#i have two because the old one kept winning the fist fight and now its too late to kill them . theyre just called fio sr and fio jr | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lunar-wandering · 3 years

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petals for two

finally, here it is. the Shadowpeach non-fatal Hanahaki AU the people have been waiting for.

Word Count: 13k

Read on Ao3

Bajie and Wujing found Wukong kneeling down by the river.

Again.

For the third day in a row.

"...Elder brother?" Wujing asked, watching how Wukong's back and tail stiffened. "Are you...okay?"

"...Just peachy..." Wukong said, but the way he said it was quiet, wheezy, and entirely unconvincing. Bajie quirked an eyebrow.

"Really? Because that's what you've said the last two times now." He said, crossing his arms with a healthy dose of suspicion on his face. "That last fight was pretty bad- y'know it would be pretty unwise of the 'Intelligent Stone Monkey' to be hiding an injury-"

"I said I'm fine!" Wukong snapped, turning around to glare at them with firey red eyes, his fur bristling with anger.

There was a pause, Bajie and Wujing both falling silent as Wukong continued to glare at them-

And then Wukong's hand flew to his mouth, as he turned back around to face the river, his body shaking with muffled coughs. Both Wujing and Bajie rushed to his side, concerned-

Only to freeze as they saw the purple petals slipping through Wukong's fingers, falling into the river and floating downstream. There was a moment of silence, broken only by Wukong's wheezing breaths.

And then they were both kneeling beside him, Wujing rubbing comforting circles on Wukong's back, while Bajie pulled the Monkey King's hand away from his mouth, letting the petals fall freely.

Wukong, surprisingly enough, let them do this, and the three of them quietly watched the petals float away, vanishing as they went around the riverbend.

If Wujing and Bajie noticed the tears running down Wukong's face, they didn't comment on it.

"...I'm sorry." Is what Wujing chose to say, in a soft murmur.

"It's fine, I'm fine." Wukong whispered, for a whisper was all his throat could manage at the time. "I'll be okay."

They all knew he was trying to reassure himself with his words more so than them.

When the three of them returned to their makeshift camp with an apology and a half-baked excuse, Tripitaka barely batted an eye.

Bai Longma, however, stared at a stray petal clinging to Wukong's outfit with a look of knowing.

Miles away, in a cave hidden by shadows, a figure leaned against the cave wall, one hand steadying himself while the other covered the fresh wound to his eye, petals falling out of his mouth as he cursed whoever decided that love could be unrequited.

Hanahaki. The disease of unrequited love.

Or, well, as it was known nowadays, the disease of pining.

Originally, when people were first discovering the disease, they thought it to be only born out of feelings that could never be reciprocated.

As it turns out, that simply wasn't the entire truth.

Overall, about 20% of Hanahaki cases reported end up being due to unrequited love.

The other 80% are due to people who simply, for one reason or another, refuse to confess.

As was recently discovered, about a century or so ago, the one true cure for Hanahaki is to look your beloved in the eyes, and say; "I love you."

As you can imagine, not many people have the courage to do that.

Luckily, the disease has never truly been fatal more than it was a slight hindrance. There even exists some medicines and teas that can reduce the effects of the flowers, although using them comes with its own ballpark of side effects.

Anyways, to make a long story short, MK wasn't surprised to end up meeting someone currently suffering from Hanahaki.

He just hadn't been expecting it to have been the Monkey King.

It hadn't really been obvious at first. Hanahaki will sometimes wither slightly when distanced from whoever the afflicted person has a crush on, but it never really takes much to send the flowers into full bloom again.

MK didn't actually hand out with Wukong a lot, and even when he did, it was only for training, something Mk restlessly focused on in the hopes of getting better at being, well, the Monkey King's successor.

Which was why, when during one of their rare breaks, Wukong froze in shock when MK actually asked him a question (one that, for once, wasn't about training).

"...Monkey King? Do you have any friends?" MK asked.

"Sure I do!" Wukong lied, "Why do you ask?"

"Ah- well-" MK stuttered, staring down at the ground in front of him as he seemed to ponder how to phrase his next sentence. "You just seemed... lonely, I guess."

"Well, I'm not, since I do, in fact, have friends, so. Yeah." Wukong said, crossing his arms as his tail slowly swung back and forth nervously.

"Are your friends from now or before?" MK asked, tilting his head in curiosity. "Actually, did you even have friends before?"

"...Before?"

"Before the Journey to the West." MK elaborated.

"Psh, of course I did!" Wukong said, "Y'know, I was even friends with Demon Bull King back then- you wouldn't believe some of the stories I have about him..."

MK had, in fact, already known about Wukong and Demon Bull King having been friends. Tang had been more than happy to bring that up, multiple times.

But what MK really wanted to know was-

"Was there anybody else?" He asked.

"Of course there was! For example, M-" Wukong started, but very quickly cut himself off, the light in his eyes dulling slightly. MK winced, sensing that he'd somehow stumbled upon a sensitive subject.

Before he could apologize though, Wukong suddenly tensed, before turning and starting to walk away.

"Uh, I'll be right back, I just need to check on the younger monkeys for a moment, okay?" He said. It was an excuse that was easily seen through, but MK couldn't bring himself to mention it.

Similar situations kept happening.

Sometimes it was understandable, like when Wukong would take a second or so to throw a smile back on his face (a smile MK was starting to recognize as fake) whenever MK brought up the subject of the Journey to the West.

Other times, however, it was a little confusing. Like, for example, when after an unspoken kitchen incident, MK had worn a purple jacket to training. (Mei had let him borrow it from her, since his yellow jacket was still in the wash, due to the Kitchen Incident That Shall Not Be Named).

As soon as Wukong had seen the purple jacket, he'd froze, before hastily turning away and running back inside his little house, claiming to have forgotten something.

MK had taken the jacket off and stuffed it into his bag by the time Wukong returned.

It was only after the Macaque fight that things became clear.

They'd been silent, watching the sunrise, and MK had started to doze off, leaning on his mentor's shoulder as he slowly started to fall asleep.

...Only to be jostled back into awareness as Wukong's shoulders shook with barely muffled coughs.

"Are you okay?" MK asked, lifting his head off of Wukong's shoulder and staring at the Monkey King with thinly veiled worry. Wukong leaned away from MK's gaze, a hand still covering his mouth.

He was too busy coughing to give a good response.

"If you broke a rib or something and didn't tell me I'm not going to be very impressed." MK deadpanned. Wukong shook his head 'no' in response, hand still over his mouth despite the fact his coughing fit had already died down. "Well, what is it then?"

MK waited as Wukong seemed to internally debate with himself.

And then the Monkey King slowly removed his hand from his mouth, revealing the petals that he had confined within his palm.

"Oh. Oh!" MK said, realization striking him as the dots connected in his mind. "Oh, you have terrible taste."

"I know..." Wukong groaned, placing his head in his hands, not caring about how this caused some of the petals to stick to his face and fur. MK giggled a little over how silly his mentor looked, Wukong glaring at him and sticking one of the petals onto his successor's cheek in response. MK made a noise of disgust as he wiped the petal off of his face.

Far away from the two of them, Macaque stumbled back into his dojo, nursing a new injury, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and holding crushed flower petals in his fist.

Well. Wukong could officially say that he'd never been in a situation like this before.

Tangled up and dangling from the Spider Queen's spiderweb, Wukong tried to distract himself from the feeling of being trapped, unable to move.... by doing his best to observe his surroundings.

There... sure were a lot of other demons here. He couldn't figure out if it was good or bad that he didn't recognize most of them.

Wait.

Wukong looked around the room again with narrowed eyes.

Could Spider Queen have also taken-

No.

Wukong couldn't see him anywhere, not to mention that the other monkey had always been concerned with his own safety first and foremost. He'd probably scrambled to get out of town at the first sign of trouble. Wukong wasn't going to find Macaque in here.

He wasn't sure why he'd even looked.

...And there was that warm, tickly feeling in the back of his throat again.

Wukong squirmed, trying to ignore the sensation for as long as possible. He even started humming, his go to method for repressing the petals, but it barely worked, and a small dose of panic started to overtake him. He had no way of covering up the petals that would come, his arms and hands pinned at his sides.

He would not let Spider Queen or the rest of her crew find out about this, not to mention....her.

(If the Lady Bone Demon found out about his Hanahaki... well, she already has enough leverage as it is. Wukong isn't about to hand over any more.)

And then there was Demon Bull King. Wukong wasn't entirely sure how his old friend, (ex-friend, he reminded himself), would react, and honestly he wasn't too keen on finding out.

Still though.

The flowers always win in the end.

Wukong did his best to duck his head into his shoulder, and hoped it would be enough as his chest was wracked with coughs.

The Demon Bull King was many things, but he was not, in fact, stupid.

He had been quick to notice the growing panic on Wukong's face, (really, the monkey hadn't even tried to hide it, either due to being lost in thought or because he thought nobody was paying close enough attention to notice), and had decided to watch and see what the Monkey King would do next.

He hadn't expected Wukong to turn his head to the side, doing his upmost best to silence his coughing fit.

He'd expected the flower petals even less.

"You, of all people, haven't gathered up the strength to confess?" Demon Bull King asked, startling Wukong right out of his coughing fit. "I did not take you to be a coward."

"I take offense to that." Wukong wheezed, a few more petals falling from his mouth as he spoke. "Besides, I remember you taking forever to confess to Princess Iron Fan-"

"I'm not the one who held my words in long enough for them to take root and bloom." Demon Bull King said, "Who is the object your affections anyways?"

"None of your business." Wukong said, once again squirming within the confines of the webs. Demon Bull King raised an eyebrow, before glancing down at the petals now littering the floor. The flowers typically would hint at who the afflicted had a crush on, but Demon Bull King was too far away to be able to tell what flowers the petals belonged to.

If he were to hazard a guess though...

"The Six Eared Macaque?" He asked, proceeding to find great amusement in how Wukong's fur stood on end, panic flashing on his face. "Ah, so I'm right then-"

"Shut up." Wukong hissed, his eyes flashing red. "Seriously, shut up. You can't tell anyone else about this-"

"Tell someone- I see flowers aren't the only nonsense your mouth spits out." Demon Bull King said. The red glow faded slightly from Wukong's eyes, as his expression shifted to confusion, with a small dash of hope.

"You... aren't going to tell anyone?" Wukong asked.

"And loose the precious blackmail material you have graced me with? Of course not!" Demon Bull King laughed, and Wukong sighed, sensing that somehow this would come back to bite him later.

Wukong forced his suitcase shut, trying to ignore the niggling feeling of guilt as MK stared at him, unimpressed. Okay, so maybe 'going on a vacation' wasn't the best excuse to use, but Wukong couldn't afford to waste any time coming up with a better one.

He was ready for MK to be worried about training.

He wasn't ready for Mk to be worried about him.

"...Will you be okay?" MK asked, "I mean, you seem to not want anyone to know about your Hanahaki, but if you're with friends then you'll be surrounded by other people at all times, so-"

"Oh, it'll be fine." Wukong said, waving MK's concerns away. "Besides, if the flowers act up, I'll just rip out my lungs."

"Please do not do that!" MK said, the horrified look on his face making Wukong chuckle.

"Oh, c'mon, it's not that bad." He said, "I've done it before."

"That does not make it better!" MK said, looking like he was about to start ranting, and Wukong took that as his cue that it was time to go.

MK pushed the exit door open, stumbling a little as he rushed into the alley way.

"Ugh- why did you do-.....that......" He said, voice trailing off as he registered that the alley way was empty.

Well. Seemingly empty.

One quick check with his true sight later, (he wasn't going to be falling for any tricks again), and MK was holding a dumpster over his head, revealing the shadow monkey that had been crouched down, hiding behind it. Macaque glanced up, his scarf covering his mouth and his fur bristling in shock as MK set the dumpster off to the side.

"So much for you having been a great warrior, huh?" MK said, crossing his arms and staring down at Macaque with an unimpressed expression.

"Uh- ah, so you figured that out, did you? Maybe you aren't as dense as you look." Macaque said, voice slightly raspy, as he stood up, trying to pretend he wasn't just hiding behind a dumpster-

Only for his scarf to slip down a little, allowing some golden flower petals to fall out. Macaque made quick work of snatching them out of the air, crushing them in his grip as he hid them behind his back, tail swishing nervously, but it was too late.

MK had seen.

"...Oh. Oh!" MK said, feeling torn between screaming in frustration or laughing in amusement over what had just been revealed to him. "Oh, you have terrible taste."

"...I have no idea what you're talking about." Macaque said, sighing and breathing out a few more golden petals as he did so, completely unaware of how much this revelation had shaken MK's already very delicate mental state. "Seriously. I don't even know where you got the idea that I'm in love with someone or something like that, because I'm definitely not."

"I never said anything about you being in love." MK said, starting to lean more towards being amused at this entire situation as Macaque stiffened, his tail stilling. "I just said you had terrible taste- maybe I was implying your whole 'performance' with the shadow play back in the theatre was simply lackluster."

"I take offense to that." Macaque hissed, his shadow growing slightly bigger as his tail once again started to thrash back and forth, this time in anger. MK ignored this obvious attempt at intimidation for another question that was on his mind, a much more pressing one, in his opinion.

"You still haven't answered my question from earlier, why did you do that?" He asked, watching as Macaque took a minute to process the question, having not expected the sudden subject change.

"....Why did I do what- Oh! Why did I break the lantern, you mean?" Macaque said, suddenly avoiding eye contact, his hand twitching like he wanted to grab hold of the edge of his scarf as he chewed on the corner of his lip, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand. "Well, I was going to do the whole 'watch the hero get tormented by their inner demons and insecurities' thing like all the other villains, but you seem to already be doing that to yourself so- yeah. Didn't want to bother using my own expansive list of abilities when I could just lay back and watch the show you were already putting on for me."

"But I thought you wanted to be center stage, not in the audience. Y'know, because you want to steal the spotlight from Monkey King." MK said, raising an eyebrow as Macaque's hand finally grabbed the edge of his scarf, and he started fiddling with it nervously. "Or well, either that or you want to share a stage with him."

Something must have been brought to the forefront of Macaque's mind when MK said that, as suddenly he was turning away, using his scarf to cover his mouth as he coughed. MK remained standing in front of him, arms crossed, waiting patiently for the shadow monkey's response.

"I- I have no intention of shar- sharing a stage." Macaque eventually wheezed, pulling his scarf back down as he spoke so that he could be heard clearly. MK amusedly noted that he could see some golden petals peeking out from within the confines of the red cloth. "Not now, not before, and not ever."

"Ah, sure, keep telling yourself that." Mk said, staring pointedly at the flower petals.

Macaque flicked him on the forehead.

"Ow!" MK said, recoiling, a hand going to his forehead to try and numb the sting, his eyes closing reflexively as he leaned back. "Why would you do that for-"

MK paused, blinking bewilderedly, as he realized Macaque was no longer in front of him, seemingly having vanished entirely, having used MK's momentary distraction to fade away into the shadows, only a single left behind flower petal revealing that he had ever actually been there.

If MK had used his true sight again then and there, he would've found that Macaque was now resting on top of one of the nearby rooftops.

As it was though, his friends burst through into the alley way, prepped with questions he wasn't ready to answer.

(Later, Macaque would severely regret failing to remember to warn MK of the danger that was approaching him. But that would be later, and now he fully intended on sneaking back into the theatre to retrieve his shadow lantern...)

Life on the ship honestly wasn't all that bad. Sure, MK had lost all of his powers, and there was the ever looming threat of the Lady Bone Demon, but ignoring all of that important stuff?

Life on the ship was actually rather nice.

"You know what? I think I could actually get used to living like this." MK said, leaning against the railing of the ship, letting the wind rustle his hair. Wukong hummed in agreement, sitting on the railing beside his successor.

"...When all this is said and done, we should take a vacation." He said, "A real vacation. Together this time."

"Can I bring my friends with me?" MK wasn't so sure he could handle leaving the others behind after everything that had happened.

"Sure, go right ahead, if that's what you want." Wukong said, shrugging. MK visibly brightened, and an idea struck him.

"Oh- and you could bring your friends along too, you know, the ones I haven't met yet!" He said, and Wukong stiffened.

"....Uh.... about that..." He started, and MK's smile fell, replaced with a mixture of disappointment and concern.

"...You lied about the whole 'having other friends' thing, didn't you." He said, looking his mentor up and down before rolling out another accusation. "You're far lonelier that I thought you were."

"...Immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be, Kid." Wukong said, a sad, half-hearted smile on his face. MK tried to come up with a response, either a joke or maybe some comforting words (how do you even comfort an immortal, who has been through so much and had probably heard everything you could possibly say?)-

Only to be completely distracted as the ship was heavily rocked by something crashing into it. MK's grip tightened around the steel railing, steadying himself as he heard the others rush up to the deck, shouting in confusion. Out of the corner of his eye, MK could see Wukong scramble to keep himself from falling over the side of the ship. (Which MK had to admit was... strange. Wukong had his whole cloud sail thing, he could fly, why would he be concerned about falling off?)

The rocking stopped, the ship steadying itself, and MK could smell smoke. Cautiously and slowly, he turned around, mentally preparing himself for the possibility of an attack, brought about by the Lady Bone Demon or one of her 'followers' (demons, that she had entranced to think that they were getting a good deal out of this, when in reality all she was doing was using them, with the full intent to throw them aside once they had served their purpose).

MK expected the broken bits and pieces of another, smaller ship, some parts still burning (and really, they should deal with those fire before they became a bigger problem. Sandy seemed to be running to get the fire extinguisher, so hopefully there wouldn't be any fire induced explosions today).

What he hadn't been expecting (but in hindsight, really should have been), was to see Red Son, standing in the center of the debris, nervously dusting the dirt off of his jacket, with Macaque laying face down on the deck behind him.

Red Son was having a very long day. Or, well, it had been about three days, really, but that wasn't the point here.

He brushed the remaining ship debris off of himself, making himself more 'presentable' while also purposefully prolonging the amount of time he could go without meeting the questioning gazes of MK and his friends.

Catching sight of the monkey still laying on the ground behind him, he turned and nudged Macaque with his foot.

"You really aren't making a good impression here." Red Son hissed, under his breath, knowing that the other's exceptional hearing meant that he could easily hear him.

"There truthfully isn't a good impression to be made." Macaque said, voice muffled by both the deck and his scarf, as he continued to lay face down, making no move to get up. "Not to mention, I'm feeling a little... singed, at the moment. Not everyone is as fire proof as you are, you- you hot headed fool."

The shadow monkey had, overall, been a great help in escaping from the Lady Bone Demon's dungeons, but Red Son wasn't past the point of kicking him in the side. Hard.

Macaque yelped in pain, curling up a little as though to shield himself, but continued to not even try to get up.

Red Son was unfortunately stopped from kicking the monkey again as he was tapped on the shoulder. Turning around, he found himself face to face with MK and Mei, their expressions completely neutral.

"Ah- Hello, Noodle Boy, Dragon Girl." Red Son said, politely nodding to each of them, trying to ignore his own nervousness (he did not feel like getting thrown off a ship today, thank you very much). MK and Mei said nothing, and Red Son began to wonder for a moment if crashing into their ship twice was somehow crossing a line.

But then both of them smiled, and Red Son braced himself just in time as Mei tackle-hugged him, MK laughing as he watched her do so.

"Wow, you really don't have much luck with vehicles and driving, on the ground or in the air, huh?" MK said, pushing a piece of debris from the miniature ship Red Son had flown in to the side with his foot. "Seriously, it's a wonder you ever managed to pass a driving test with skills like this."

"A driving what?" Red Son asked, immediately regretting it as both MK and Mei fixed him with a look of complete and utter horror.

"Oh heavens." Mei breathed, her grip on Red Son's shoulders growing almost uncomfortably tight. "You entered a race without knowing how to drive."

Too loud.

It was far, far too loud.

Still though, it was much better than being trapped down in the Lady Bone Demon's cold, dark, and desolate dungeons.

Or, at least, that is what Macaque thought to himself, even as he subtly pulled his scarf up over his ears, trying and failing miserably to block out the rumble of the engine, the hiss of the fires from the remains of their ship, the hushed whispers from Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy, and the trio's argument about Red Son's apparently non-existent drivers license.

(If he had known Red Son had never really, truly learned how to drive, Macaque wouldn't have let him pilot their escape ship.

...Albeit, Macaque himself wasn't all that much better, having had no idea as to what over half of the buttons in the ship were actually for.

Still though, he would have at least tried to land a perfect landing, instead of going all out on making sure they, quote, 'crashed in style', like what a certain hot tempered demon did.

Seriously Red Son. What the fuck.)

It took a few more minutes of laying there, trying to block everything out, before he realized that, over the roar of the engines and the trio's arguing, he couldn't hear where Wukong was.

...Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

Macaque stiffened as a warm hand landed on his shoulder, its grip alternating between being soothing soft and threateningly tight.

"...Macaque?" Wukong's voice asked, and Macaque felt the unfortunately all too familiar twinge in both his chest and throat.

Ah. It was definitely a bad thing then.

Wukong pulled his hand back as Macaque abruptly stood up, stumbling away from him and towards the side of the ship. For a moment, Wukong genuinely wondered if Macaque planned to just jump off the ship, despite the fact that they were thousands of miles above ground.

But Macaque simply grabbed hold of the railing, leaning slightly over it, his shoulders shaking.

"What's the matter, are you sea sick already?" Mei asked, noticing Macaque's movement. "Or, wait, would it be air sick? Meh, it's probably the same thing..."

Macaque gave no response other than raising his hand to flip her off, which simply made her cackle like a mad man. Wukong would've walked right on over to him and smacked the shadow monkey for the rude gesture-

That is, if he hadn't been already preoccupied with covering up the petals his concern for the other had caused him to start coughing up.

Unseen by either of them, MK glanced back and forth between the two monkeys, seeing how Wukong tucked the petals into the pocket of his shirt, and spotting a few golden ones fluttering away from Macaque, carried by the wind. MK sighed, ignoring how Mei and Red Son, the two closest to him who had noticed his reaction, looked at him in confusion.

It was going to be a really long trip.

Macaque stirred a bowl full of cake mix, deeply lost in his thoughts.

You see, being stuck in a ship, thousands of miles up in the air, surrounded by people, especially MK and the others, was a very stressful situation to be in. And unlike back at his dojo, Macaque didn't exactly have any training dummies to take said stress out on.

So, he naturally defaulted to another, less violent technique.

Stress baking.

Macaque had waited patiently in the shadows until Pigsy had left the kitchen to join the others up on the deck, and then had promptly taken over the entire room.

...He wasn't sure why he decided to make a chocolate cake though. He had really just been going through the motions, using the first thing he saw or what was directly in front of him, not feeling like putting in the effort to really search for anything else.

Well, at least thus far only MK had stumbled upon him like this, and the Monkey King's successor had been easily chased away by a purple glare and a hissed threat.

'...Although...' Macaque thought, stirring slowing down slightly as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway, approaching him. 'Maybe saying that I was poisoning everything in the kitchen wasn't the best choice of threat.'

He very nearly dropped the bowl when Wukong entered the room.

"So." Wukong said, leaping up onto the counter and sitting down, cross-legged. "Poison, huh?"

Well. He might as well go along with it. No use in changing his excuse now.

"Yep." Macaque said, taking the spoon out of the bowl as he gestured at the room. "I'm so one hundred percent done with all of you, so I have decided to poison all of you. Finally get rid of the noise, have a bit of peace, you know?"

As he said this, he made the mistake of putting the spoon within Wukong's reach.

The Monkey King, spurred by nothing but his own impulsivity, leaned forwards and casually licked the edge of the spoon.

Macaque pulled the utensil back at record breaking speeds (he avoided putting it back into the bowl, he knew far better than to do that) and proceeded to stare at Wukong with the most offended expression he could manage.

Wukong completely ignored it.

"Your 'poison' happens to taste an awful lot like chocolate." He said, taking a glance around the kitchen, noting all the ingredients on the kitchen island, before looking Macaque up and down. "...Stress baking?"

"Poison." Macaque corrected, glaring at the other as he got a new spoon to stir with. "I'm making poison."

"...Poison for yourself, maybe." Wukong said, looking thoughtful, "If I remember right, you can't eat chocolate, can you?"

Macaque didn't bother to grace him with a response, instead turning his back to the other monkey, continuing to mix more ingredients into the bowl. It was blessedly silent for a while, but-

With Wukong sitting right behind him, watching his every move, even stress baking wasn't able to help Macaque relax.

Not to mention the flowers in his chest that were once again begging to make themselves known.

Macaque forced the flurry of emotions and petals back down as much as he could. He flicked an ear, listening behind him.

Wukong was still there. Why was he still there-

Macaque slammed the bowl down on the kitchen island, barely avoiding chipping it, and taking brief pleasure in how he could hear the Wukong's breath catch, before the Monkey King descended into a small coughing fit, probably from surprise at the shadow monkey's sudden movements. Macaque turned back around to face Wukong, crossing his arms over his chest as he did so.

"What do you want from me?" He hissed, his tail swishing back and forth from agitation. Wukong's tail swished too, but Macaque could tell that his was a sign of nervousness.

"Ah, oh nothing." Wukong said, his hands behind his back as his legs swayed back and forth over the counter. "Just making sure you don't actually decide to poison anything."

"If I had poison, you and I both know that I would have used it already." Macaque said, "I don't even think there's anything I could even use as poison on this ship."

"...Point taken." Wukong said, leaning forwards and resting his chin on his right hand.

(He kept his other hand tucked in behind his back. Macaque did pick up on Wukong seemingly acting suspicious, but was far too focused on trying to get the Monkey King out of the kitchen to actually think much of it.

Something that Wukong was extremely grateful for, as it gave him the time to actually hide the crushed flower petals in his palm within one of his pockets.)

"Um, so uh, how do you know if the kid and the others are all okay?" Macaque asked, deciding to try a new tactic of getting Wukong out of the kitchen, hoping that the Monkey King's stupid over-protectiveness would prompt him to leave the room, which would let Macaque finally bake in peace.

"Oh, I left a hair clone with them." Wukong said, and Macaque slumped, his hopes dashed. "...Say, on a different subject, how do you know if it tastes good?"

"Huh?" Macaque asked, befuddled for a moment before remembering the cake bowl on the table behind him. "Oh- the cake? Well, I don't know really, usually I just sell it or something... Not that I really do this often, mind you! This isn't- I don't- I'm- wait. You want to taste test it more, to get free samples, don't you?"

Wukong simply gave a non-commital shrug, but the smirk on his face gave his intentions away. Macaque sighed wearily, before pulling a smaller spoon out of a nearby drawer with his tail, scooping a bit of cake batter into it, and tossing the spoon at Wukong, mentally willing the utensil to hit the Monkey King smack dab on the forehead.

The utensil, unfortunately, did not, in fact, obey Macaque's wills, as Wukong caught it with ease, and started licking the cake batter off of it, his tail wagging happily.

Macaque bit the inside of his cheek, nearly drawing blood as he used the pain to push the flowers in his throat back down, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he realized just how... cute the other looked in the current moment.

...No, nope, absolutely not-

Macaque spun back around, throwing himself entirely into the task of mixing the last of the ingredients together, and doing his upmost best to ignore the monkey sitting behind him.

Wukong's incessant humming was absolutely not helping in any way shape or form.

Things continued on, Macaque making the cake and occasionally tossing a batter covered spoon over his shoulder so that Wukong could taste it.

(Macaque silently told himself that he was doing it in the hopes that Wukong would become satisfied and leave, already-

But, deep down, he knew it was just because he liked seeing the other monkey happy.)

Macaque dumped the cake batter into a pan, setting the now empty mixing bowl off to the side before shoving the pan into the oven, and setting a small timer.

When he looked back over to where he had placed the mixing bowl, fully intent on washing it and proceeding to use it to make some icing, the bowl was gone.

"What the-" He started, looking around bewildered, before realizing what must have happened.

Sure enough, Wukong had the bowl on his lap, and was using a spoon to scrape the remaining cake batter out of it, to eat.

"...It's not like you were gonna use it anymore... right?" Wukong asked, almost looking sheepish as he realized Macaque was staring at him, and he curled around the bowl protectively.

Macaque glared at him, using his magic to make his eyes flash purple and make the room grow slightly darker.

"Get out of my kitchen before I retract my truce card and cash in on punching you in the face." He threatened.

Although the threat didn't hold much weight (Macaque would probably end up breaking his hand punching Wukong before he could ever hope to actually injure the other) Wukong still scrambled to get out of the room, taking the bowl and spoon with him as he went.

As Wukong rushed pass Macaque in his haste to leave, their tails lightly brushed together.

And that was the last straw for Macaque, who, once he was sure the other was gone, hurried to turn on the sink to cover up the sound of his coughing.

'..........Stupid monkey....' Macaque thought, leaning over the sink and watching flour and flowers go down the drain.

MK found Wukong in the hallway, with petals falling out of both the Monkey King's pocket and his mouth. He seemed to be spacing out, lost within his own thoughts.

He was still carrying the mixing bowl.

"...So I take it you didn't confess to Macaque?" MK asked, sounding almost disappointed.

"What- no- why on Earth would I confess?" Wukong asked, snapping out of his reverie. MK merely shrugged in response, but mentally he cursed.

'I was so sure that baking together would settle this whole mess once and for all.' He thought, watching as Wukong balance his bowl in one hand and softly rubbed a spot on his tail with the other. 'I guess it's back to the drawing board...

....Maybe the others would have some ideas?'

"How to get someone with Hanahaki to confess?" Tang asked, setting his book to the side. "MK, you know that's not really a thing you can force, I mean, look at how long it took Pigsy and I-"

"I know, I know, the both of you have told me about your confession, and how long it took to get there, multiple times." MK said, rolling his eyes. "But like, this is worse than you guys, which honestly, before now I didn't think it was possible, but. This has been going on for centuries."

"...I feel like there's a majorly important piece of information I'm missing here." Tang said, leaning forwards with renewed interest. "Who, exactly, has Hanahaki?"

MK paused, debating for a moment on whether or not he should actually tell him.

But, well, it was kind of obvious, and he seriously needed help getting the two of them together, so-

"Monkey King and Macaque." MK said, before adding, for clarification; "Both of them have it. For each other."

"Oh. Oh, that makes so much sense." Tang said, sounding as though pieces of a centuries old puzzle had magically connected right before his eyes. "...I'm sorry though, I can't help you."

"...Oh. Okay, I'll just ask someone else then-"

"However. I am not opposed to starting a betting pool."

"Hanahaki? Why would I know anything about Hanahaki?" Red Son asked, sounding oddly nervous as MK stood in the door way to his room. "...Why are you even asking me about it anyways?"

"Because Monkey King and Macaque have been pining for centuries, even back during the Journey to the West if the stories from Mei's great grandfather are to be believed, and while I've only been witness to a small portion of it, and I guess it's kinda been amusing, I am so done with it, like-" MK waved his hands around in frustration. "Why won't they just confess already?!"

"...I'm....sure they have their reasons." Red Son said, "What... did Mei say, about this, exactly?"

"Oh, she just laughed when I told her about it, and then cemented her place in the betting pool." MK said.

"There's a betting- Noodle Boy, why didn't you start with the betting pool?!"

Red Son had, in fact, already known about Macaque's Hanahaki.

That kind of thing was a little hard to miss when you're locked up in a cell with someone for an extended period of time.

Finding out Wukong also had Hanahaki came as a little bit of a surprise (though, really, now that he knew about it, it was kind of obvious, but as they say, 20/20 hindsight-).

Outside of making bets though, Red Son was mostly content to just sit back and watch the two monkeys stumble around each other. Sure, he did think their inability to confess made them cowards, but.

At least MK was too wrapped up in his frustration over the monkeys drama to notice the fire demon coughing up smoke and petals behind him.

Wukong slowly sneaked into the room, as quietly as he possibly could. Staying low to the ground, he tip toed over to the shelf, cautiously reaching up-

Only for someone to grab a hold of his hand, stopping him from reaching his prize. A nearby lamp flicked on, and Wukong looked up to see Sandy intently staring down at him.

"...Hi." Wukong said, laughing nervously as he slipped his hand out of Sandy's grip. "Um. I totally wasn't sneaking around or anything, I was just... sleep walking?"

"...I see." Sandy said, reaching over and taking one of the tea tins off of the shelf. "In that case, this one right here will do wonders to improve your sleep-"

"Ah, oh, no thank you, it's fine, I can handle it." Wukong said, subtly scanning the shelf of teas, slumping slightly when he couldn't seem to find the one that he wanted. Upon seeing the monkey's dejected face, Sandy sighed.

"Is this what you were looking for?" He asked, pulling a tin of tea out from behind his back. Wukong looked at it in shock.

"How'd you-" He started.

"It was just a lucky guess." Sandy said, setting the tin in Wukong's waiting hands. "Use it sparingly though, I'm running a little low on supplies right now. Oh, and be careful with the side effects, okay? Stop taking it if anything seriously bad starts to happen."

"...Thank you." Wukong said, pocketing the tea tin and turning to leave Sandy's room.

"Oh, one more thing." Sandy said, causing Wukong to pause mid-step. "The next time you try sneaking around in the dark, use a stronger glamour over your eyes. The glow seriously gives you away."

"...Duly noted."

It smelled like smoke.

That was the first thing Macaque noticed as he stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the storage room. Immediately, he tensed up, his fur standing on end. After all, where there was smoke, there was usually fire as well. And although Macaque would never, never admit it... he wasn't exactly the most... fond of fire.

(A capture hero, trapped and unaware.

A burning mountain, the air choked by smoke.

And an abandoned warrior, trying desperately to escape the mountain's flames.)

But... Macaque couldn't hear any of the noises that usually accompanied something burning. Instead all he could hear was someone's slightly irregular heart beat, and their wheezing breaths.

Macaque forced himself to walk forwards, curiosity starting to over power his caution.

He rounded the shelf of boxes just in time to see Red Son cough out more smoke, along with a few burnt petals.

Macaque paused, knowing the other had yet to actually see him, as he pondered what to do next. His hands twitched towards the edge of his scarf, but he kept himself frozen.

On the one hand, he could just turn around and leave before Red Son could even notice him. As was said before, Macaque was truly not very fond of fire, and despite having spent at least two days trapped with the fire demon, Macaque hadn't really gotten over his general...wariness of him.

On the other hand though, now that he'd seen the other demon, Macaque's curiosity was peaked.

...Well, they say curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, so-

"Who's it for?" Macaque asked, chuckling a little to himself as Red Son startled, finally noticing the other's presence.

"What?" He asked, looking at the shadow monkey in shock and confusion.

"Your Hanahaki." Macaque elaborated, "Who is it for, Mei or MK?"

Red Son remained silent for another moment, blinking in confusion, before the question, along with what was currently happening, seemed to register within his brain, and a furious blush over took his face, a few sparks flying off of him.

(At the sight of said sparks, Macaque took a hesitant step back, glancing around for anything that was possibly flammable.

Red Son was far too wrapped up within his own emotions to notice the monkey's anxiety.)

He sputtered for a moment, struggling and failing to come up with a proper response.

"...Both. It's, It's both of them." He eventually muttered under his breath, avoiding eye contact with Macaque as he shyly rubbed his arm.

"What was that? Sorry, I didn't hear you the first time, could you say that again?" Macaque said, not at all surprised by this new development and instantly deciding that now was the perfect opportunity to mess with the fire demon.

"You damn well did hear me and we both know it." Red Son said, shifting from flustered to angry in the blink of an eye.

...Macaque outright laughed at hm.

"Oh, oh, like you're one to laugh." Red Son said, "I know all about your thing for Monkey King. You're in the same boat as I am, both literally and figuratively."

"...Okay, first of all, we are in an airship, not a boat." Macaque said, leaning 'casually' against a wall of supply boxes. "Secondly- I have literally no idea what you're talking about."

"Why haven't you confessed yet?" Red Son said, moving on with his line of thinking and completely ignoring the shadow monkey's denial.

"Conf- I, I could ask you the exact same question!" Macaque said, caught off guard before pulling himself together and recovering. "Why haven't you confessed?"

"I, am simply waiting for the right time. I'm planning a big romantic gesture, I'll have you know." Red Son said, "You, on the other hand, are simply being a pining idiot."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Macaque denied yet again, a slight growl making it's way into his voice as his eyes flashed purple.

Red Son wasn't impressed.

"Your pitiful attempts at denial and intimidation have little to no effect on me." He said, "Seriously, just admit that you're in love with Monkey King already. Pretty much everyone else already knows about it."

"...I won't say I'm in love."

"Do not start the random musical numbers again, you already did it far too many times when we were trapped together in that cell, and if I have to bear one more minute of it I will not hesitate to toss you overboard."

The tea was bitter.

Very bitter.

Still though, it tasted leagues better than weed killer, which had been a not very well though through experience that Wukong never ever wanted to repeat.

And the tea worked better too, repressing, the flowers better than humming or the previously stated weed killer ever could.

Still though, there was a reason as to why Wukong had never opted to try this method before.

Said reason, of course, being the side effects.

He sighed, staring at how there were now purple flecks within his red eyes. Nothing that his usual glamours couldn't cover, but his magic was dwindling fast. He would have to start cutting a few corners soon if he didn't want to end up completely and utterly powerless, and the glamours concealing his height and eye colour would probably end up having to be the first ones to go.

Other than that though, it was concerning that the eye colour change was happening so soon, not to mention the speed at which it was progressing. A change in eye colour was the most common starting side effect of repressing Hanahaki, after that... things start to tend to become strange and rather unpredictable. The list of side effects caused by repressing Hanahaki was miles long, and was always having new things added to it- the reaction seemed to always depend on the person.

Basically, Wukong had literally no idea of what the side effect would be for him, nor how he could prepare for them.

And, of course, this meant he wouldn't be able to know how to hide them either.

When Wukong woke up the next morning and found that his eyes had already turned fully purple, a faint sense of unease settled itself over him like how a morning mist settles in a forest. He supposed he should've expected this to happen quick, he was repressing thousands of years of pining after all, but still, he hadn't been expecting it to progress this fast....

He felt fine though, nothing different than usual. (He did feel a bit weaker, but that had already been happening before the tea. No, that was something else.) For a moment he wondered if his immortality had made him completely immune to any possible side effects, but immediately shot that idea down, as if that had been the case, his eyes wouldn't have changed colour at all.

Wukong exited his room, throwing his usual glamours back on just in case, and made his way to the ship's kitchen as quietly as possible, he'd awoken a bit earlier than usual this morning, and didn't want to accidentally wake any of the others up.

Warming up the kettle and taking the tea tin out of the pocket (he sadly noted that it was almost empty already), he carefully followed the instructions on the side of the tin, not wanting to mess anything up and risk the tea not working.

A few minutes later, and Wukong sat at the kitchen table, spacing out a little as he slowly sipped his Hanahaki Repressing Tea.

He was starting to almost fall asleep in his chair when Pigsy entered the kitchen.

"Morning." Pigsy greeted, looking Wukong up and down with a mix of worry and suspicion. "You're not usually up this early, is something wrong?"

'No, I'm fine, perfectly fine.' Was what Wukong wanted to say.

Instead though, no sound left his mouth at all.

Oh.

Oh shit.

It wasn't every day that someone say Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, speechless.

Today, however, seemed to be one of the days where he was.

Pigsy watched as Wukong's mouth clicked shut, panic briefly flashing across his face before being replaced with an easily recognizable nervous smile as the monkey drew his tea cup closer to himself, as though to hide it. Pigsy rolled his eyes, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from Wukong, immediately noticing how the monkey avoided eye contact entirely.

"Experiencing the side effects, huh?" Pigsy asked, "Don't give me that surprised look. Even if Sandy hadn't told me about you taking the tea, you're being rather obvious right now."

Wukong visibly winced at that, sipping his tea again.

"How exactly do you plan to get through the day without being able to talk huh?" Pigsy asked, leaning forwards slightly. "Surely you must have some plan prepared."

Wukong started to shake his head no, to show that he didn't, in fact, have any plan here, but then he paused, looking thoughtful.

A sudden pang ran through Pigsy's mind, and he gripped the sides of his head, looking down at the table as he winced, trying to collect himself, feeling as though he'd been set off balance.

"-an you hear me?" Wukong's voice was faint and echoey, before growing stronger. "Can you hear me? Hello-"

"Yes I can fucking hear you." Pigsy said, looking back up, and proceeding to be almost shocked (but at the same time really not) to find that there were now two Wukong's sitting across from him. The new Wukong was obviously Wukong's golden astral projection form, as it perfectly matched how MK had described it.

Or well, it almost matched perfectly...

"Oh, good." Wukong said, via astral connection, "I wasn't sure this would work, but since it does I can just talk to the others like this-"

"Does this form of yours normally look like.... well, that?" Pigsy asked, interrupting.

"...What?" Wukong took a moment to analyze his astral form.

Unlike MK's description of it being 'Monkey King but in gold, like a shiny pokemon', Wukong currently had three tails, one pink, one red, and one purple. Said colours were also splashed all over his astral body, almost giving him a sunset-like appearance.

"...Huh. That's new." Wukong said, "I guess the side effects go deeper than I thought."

"Is this something we should be more concerned about?" Pigsy asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, no, it's fine. At least, it's far better compared to everything else. Maybe. Probably." Wukong said, the nervous smile on both his real self and his astral self growing slightly bigger.

"...Everything else? Probably?" Pigsy questioned, sitting up straighter with worry.

"...Ah, you weren't meant to hear that part." Wukong said, wincing. "Which I suppose that means it's time for me to go-"

"Hey, wait-" Pigsy started, but didn't manage to get any words out as Wukong abruptly closed the astral connection, before standing up and leaving the room faster than the other could ever hope to follow. Pigsy sighed as he caught the barest glimpse of Wukong's tail going out the door.

That damn monkey was definitely going to need a serious intervention one of these days.

"Monkey King this is an intervention." MK said, crossing his arms as he tried to do his best impersonation of one of Tang's infamous glares. He assumed he failed miserably, given Mei's muffled snickering, but Wukong at least shrunk down sheepishly, so he must've been doing something right.

MK sighed as a pang ran through his head, having expected it- before blinking in shock at the astral image that now stood before him.

"Why do I need an intervention? I'm perfectly fine." Wukong said, both his real self and his astral self smiling nervously- and the three other astral copies of him mimicked the motion. One was pink, one was purple, and one was red. They were each surrounded by a faint golden glow, and were each connected to the main golden astral version of Wukong by their tails.

"You- you are definitely not fine!" MK shouted, still having not recovered from the shock, and wasn't given any more time to try and process what he was seeing as the three bonus Wukong's started speaking.

"Shit." The red one hissed, frustration in his voice. "Fuck." (MK blinks, shocked to hear any version of his mentor swear, and immediately decides to smack Wukong on the arm the next time his mentor tries to reprimand him for swearing.)

"At least he's learning how to read people better, now he won't get tricked as easily." The pink one said, sounding almost....proud?

"I won't be able to trick him anymore either- He's catching on. He's starting to catch on now-" The purple one said, panicked. "I need to lie, lie lie lie-"

"Once again, I don't know what you're talking about." The golden, normal Wukong insisted, seemingly ignorant to the existence of the others.

MK had, of course, set up this intervention to talk about how Wukong tended to repress his emotions, (specifically those concerning a certain shadow monkey), but he definitely hadn't been prepared for... whatever all this is.

"Are you fucking seeing this?" He asked Mei.

"I'm not seeing shit." Mei said, wrapping her arm around MK's shoulder and lightly knocking their heads together, as though doing so would transfer the images that MK was seeing into her own brain.

"Language." All four astral Wukong's said, in perfect unison, and MK reached over and smacked the real Wukong on the arm for his hypocrisy.

The hastily put together intervention steadily went downhill from that point forwards, Mei complaining about not having been let in to the Astral Connection, and Wukong closing said connection the instant that MK had revealed the existence of the astral copies to him. The Monkey King had left the room rather swiftly after that, and MK sighed, for what seemed to be the millionth time since he'd found out about his mentor's Hanahaki.

He would have to do a much better, and much more well put together intervention next time.

Wukong ended up running out of tea the next day.

On the one hand, this was a good thing, as it meant he would only have to wait a day or so for the side effects to finally wear off, and he could go back to actually speaking again.

But on the other hand, this meant that he'd be back to coughing up flowers again, much, much sooner than he would like.

Wukong sighed, leaning against the railing of the ship, watching the sunset. He could probably jump off the ship and find the materials needed to make the tea himself, but without his cloud sail, it would certainly cost him precious time.

Time that he currently absolutely could not waste.

So he resigned himself to what would have to happen, and tried to mentally prepare himself for the flowers that would return within the next twenty four hours.

.....For some reason, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched....

In his many years of having known Wukong, Macaque had never seen him be quiet.

But he sure was quiet now, leaning against the ship railing, peacefully watching the sun as it dipped below the horizon.

(The fading colours of the sun reflected perfectly off of Wukong's fur, covering the other in golds, red, purples, and pinks, and overall making him look really pre-

No, nope, Macaque absolutely could not think about that right now, if he started coughing up flowers here and now it was sure to be noticed, and he absolutely couldn't have that happen.)

Macaque really wanted to consider the silence a blessing, finally, a break from the seemingly endless amount of chitter-chatter-

But instead, he couldn't help but feel worried.

Sliding back down to hide behind the crate he'd been sitting on before Wukong had come out onto the deck twenty minutes ago, Macaque lightly chewed on the edge of his scarf, thinking.

Option one: he waltzes over there, throws on a Perfect Smile, and asks Wukong what's wrong. Maybe he could even throw in a jab or two, or say it sarcastically in order to hide his very real concern.

Option two: he sneaks past Wukong, reenters the ship, and hides out inside of his room until he feels confident enough that these stupid emotions have passed.

Macaque was just deciding on option two- when the shadows surrounding him shifted.

Glancing up, he found that Wukong was now holding the crate the shadow monkey had been hiding behind over his head, and was staring down at him, unimpressed.

"...Hi?" Macaque said, letting the edge of his scarf fall out of his mouth and glamouring away any sign that he'd been chewing on it in the first place. "Um. Fancy meeting you here?"

If possible, Wukong's unimpressed look deepened.

"I was- I was here first, I'll have you know." Macaque said, hurriedly standing up, brushing non-existent dirt off of his clothes. "I don't really appreciate you encroaching on my personal space."

Wukong's expression did not waver, but he did set the crate down to the side, so at least Macaque no longer had to worry about having it be thrown at him. Still though, Wukong continued to stare, so maybe he wasn't out of the woods yet.

"So uh, what's with the whole silent act, huh?" Macaque asked, trying his best to be nonchalant about it. He hoped the response would be something meaningless, like a silly little bet or something along those lines.

He didn't expect to receive no verbal response at all, with Wukong's expression shifting away from unimpressed to something Macaque immediately identified as nervous.

Which....probably meant that this really was something to be concerned about.

Which probably also meant that asking any more about it would eventually result in some kind of long, emotional talk, which absolutely was not Macaque's forte.

...Well, he'd been planning to go with option number two from the beginning, so-

"Welp, this was a nice talk." Macaque said, "But, unfortunately, I have some other stuff that need to be tended to so.... bye!"

And with that, Macaque awkwardly flashed a peace sign, before falling down into the shadows, reappearing within the comforts of his own room. Deciding that he'd definitely had enough for one day, he crawled into his bed, pulling the covers over his head and trying his best to banish any thoughts of Wukong from his mind as he fell asleep.

He'd tried to sleep.

Really, he'd tried.

But after his third petal coughing fit of the night (courtesy of his brain refusing to forget how beautiful Wukong looked in the light of the sunset), Macaque gave up.

Which was why he was currently sitting on the couch, staring at the shadows on the wall, letting his mind play tricks on himself, making it seem like the darkness was moving.

He startled when he heard the sound of someone walking down the hallway.

Macaque wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been up for, but something told him that it was still far too early for even the early-risers to be up and about.

It was at the exact moment that someone sluggishly entered the room that Macaque remembered his glamours were down, and he tensed, knowing it was far too late and that he was far too tired to throw them on now.

He relaxed ever so slightly once he realized that the one who had entered the room had seen him glamourless multiple times before.

...Still though. What was Wukong doing up so late?

"...Got nightmares? I hope they're all about me." Macaque said, almost instantly cringing at the words coming out of his mouth, wanting to take them back and shove them into whatever sleep deprived corner of his mind they had come from.

Funnily enough though, Wukong didn't react at all, there wasn't even a small twitch of the ear or tilt of the head to even indicate that the other had even heard him.

There was a beat of silence, and Macaque chewed on the edge of his scarf, distracting himself from the awkwardness of it all by focusing on the sounds of the ship at night.

The beeping of the autopilot, the whir of the engines, the quiet sleeping sounds of the others, Wukong's steady, slow heart beat...

His.... slow heart beat...

"Oh" Macaque breathed, his voice partially muffled as he still had part of his scarf in his mouth. "You're sleep walking."

A contradictory mixture of concern and relief flooded through him at this realization. For a moment he just sat there, watching as Wukong continued to sluggishly make his way around the room.

And then Wukong bumped into the edge of the coffee table, and Macaque got up in record time, ready to catch the other if he fell-

Only to pull himself back as Wukong righted himself, still fast asleep. Macaque sighed, sitting back down on the couch. Why had he even been worried? There was literally nothing to worry about here, Wukong was literally invulnerable, he'd be fine. This was fine.

He rescinded that thought when Wukong suddenly turned, slowly but surely making his way towards Macaque. The shadow monkey watched the other's approach warily, stiffening when Wukog clumsily crawled onto the couch beside him.

Macaque stayed as still as possible, practically frozen, and partially hoping Wukong would get back up and sleep walk his way back to his own bed.

That, of course, didn't happen, and Macaque barely bit back a gasp, the edge of his scarf falling from his mouth to rest on his lap, as Wukong's tail found and curled around Macaque's own.

'Okay.' Macaque thought, feeling the flowers surge within his chest, as well as a faint tingling sensation covering most of his body (it had been a while, since he'd had any positive affection). 'Okay. I can handle this.'

And then Wukong leaned against him, his head resting on Macaque's shoulder.

'I can not handle this.'

When Wukong woke up in the early morning, the first thing he noticed was that he was not, in fact, in his bedroom.

'Ah. I slept walked again.' He thought, wincing, slowly pushing himself up. '...At least I didn't collapse in the middle of the hallway or inside of MK's room this time...'

The second thing he noticed was fabric sliding off of him, landing in a pool on the floor.

Leaning over and picking it up, he instantly identified it as Macaque's scarf.

He'd. Been sleeping while curled around Macaque's scarf.....

Almost immediately, he started coughing, purple petals falling from his mouth.

'Well. There goes the last effects of the tea.'

(When Macaque opened his door later on in the after noon, he would find his scarf sitting on the floor in front of him, perfectly folded.

He would find a singular purple petal within it upon unfolding it, but immediately dismiss it as being unimportant.)

"Why is it a forest, why did the engine need to malfunction and land us in a forest." Macaque complained, laying in the shadow of a tree, staring up into the branches as though the tree would give him an answer.

"Hey, it's better than a mountain." Wukong said, setting down a glass of lemonade beside the other monkey, before turning to hand another one off to Tang. (Pigsy had, for reasons unknown, made Wukong act as his waiter for the day. Nobody was quite sure why, and from the way Wukong glared whenever the subject was brought up, they figured it was best not to ask). "Can you hear how MK and the others are doing though, they've been gone for a while..."

"Why don't you just use your cloud to go check on them?" Macaque groaned, but still did what had been asked of him, tilting his head to the side, listening intently. After a moment, he was able to pin point the trio's voices. As for what they were saying....

Macaque smirked.

"They're fine." He said, "Although, they might be another few minutes before they come back."

When the trio came out of the forest wearing flower crowns, Macaque mentally cheered.

(After somebody with Hanahaki confesses, the flowers need somewhere to go. Usually they simply pop out of the ground around the person who has confessed.

It was a popular tradition to make and wear flower crowns using said flowers if your love was reciprocated.)

"Oh, did Red Son finally confess?" Tang asked, "We've been waiting on that for like. Ever."

"Oh heavens- Was I the only one who didn't know?" MK said, hiding his face in his hands.

"Oh no, I don't think Monkey King here knew either." Sandy said, lightly patting Wukong on the head. Wukong had been adorned with a look of utter shock since the trio had returned, but now he finally broke out of his surprise, and before the trio could even think to move, Wukong had grabbed hold of them, lifting them up a little in an excited hug.

"Oh my gosh- I'm so happy for you!" He said, only putting them down as Red Son started struggling. "We've- we've gotta throw a party- Pigsy can we throw a party-"

Macaque rolled his eyes, blocking out the current party planning, going back to staring at the sky through the tree branches.

"...Macaque."

Macaque looked over to see Red Son standing beside him.

"...Yes?" Macaque asked.

"...I'm braver than you are."

"What the fuck does that mean-"

Of course, Wukong had ended up deciding that they couldn't have the party on the ship. For some reason or another, he was utterly convinced that this party had to be big, which, of course, meant that there had to be a large space to hold it in.

...Had the situation been different, he would've brought everyone to Flower Fruit Mountain.

As it was, he found the next best thing.

"How the fuck did you know about my family hide out?" Red Son asked, watched as Wukong knocked three times on the door.

"You forget I was friends with your father, Red Boy." Wukong said, sending Red Son a smirk. "Oh, and watch your language."

The rest of the group stood slightly behind them, some of them prepared to run away if, somehow, this went awry.

Luckily enough, they didn't have to worry. Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan took the fact that Red Son was now dating his former enemies surprisingly well, and were fully willing to let them use the base to hold a party.

Wukong, surprisingly enough, ended up being the one to regret the decision to come here, the realization that maybe he had made a mistake hitting when Demon Bull King grabbed him by the back of his scarf, lifting him into the air. Wukong went slack immediately, knowing that struggling would be futile.

"The rest of you can keep sorting things out." Demon Bull King said, "I would like to have a few.... words with the simian."

And with that he turned, walking out of the room and bringing Wukong with him.

Demon Bull King entered a smaller room, reaching and closing the door behind him as he did so. Unceremoniously, he let go of Wukong's scarf and let the monkey drop down to the floor. Wukong let out an 'oof' as he hit the solid concrete.

"Ow." He hissed, glaring up at Demon Bull King. "Ya could have been a little more gentle there, Bull King."

"You can handle it." Demon Bull King said, "Now, onto the real matter of business. You haven't confessed yet, have you."

"What? Oh, is that what this is all about- I mean, I have no idea what you're talking about." Wukong said, laughing nervously. Demon Bull King stared down at him, unimpressed.

"So I'm right, you really still haven't confessed." Demon Bull King sighed, "Really, I expected better from you. Oh well, I suppose it is a good thing that my son is braver than you, not that that's very hard."

"Ouch." Wukong said, slightly jokingly. "You...really aren't pulling back your punches today huh."

"You trapped me under a mountain. I can be permitted to throw a few heavy hits." Demon Bull King said, "As it is though, if you do not confess sooner rather than later, you may miss your chance."

"Huh?"

"Do not make me out to be a fool, Sun Wukong. I can see the way your body grows weaker." Demon Bull King stared pointedly at a scrape Wukong had gotten on his hand when he'd been dropped onto the floor. Wukong, following the other's gaze, hid it behind his back. "You can't hide it from me. A month ago that fall would've been nothing to you. The Lady Bone Demon has affected you more than you're letting on."

"...So what if she has?" Wukong asked, "It's fine, it doesn't really mean anything, my powers will come back to their full strength sooner or later, you know."

"When I carried you, you weighed a little heavier than you used to."

"Hey now, don't go making comments about my weight!" Wukong said, letting the glamour on his eyes drop so that he could give Demon Bull King the red-eyed glare. "Seriously, I don't know what you think you've figured out, but just, drop it, okay?"

"...If that is what you wish." Demon Bull King sighed, opening the door and standing slightly to the side in order to let Wukong through first. "Promise me one thing though, for the sake of our old friendship."

"...Of course."

"Please confess before the time runs out."

"I'll... I'll try."

The party had been great.

In fact, the party had been spectacular.

Which was why, of course, that merely a week after the party, their luck seemingly ran out.

One of the Lady Bone Demon's 'followers' attacked the group during a supply run. Somehow, someway, Wukong and Macaque had managed to draw it away from the others, giving the rest of the group ample time to get the ship loaded and get everyone to a safe place.

Now all the two monkeys had to do was find a way for themselves to escape.

Macaque ducked under a wave of magic, glancing over at Wukong, hoping that the other would have some kind of plan.

He could immediately tell from the look on the other's face that he did not, in fact, have any sort of plan.

Macaque kept dodging as he watched Wukong impulsively take the offensive, sliding under a wave of magic, running up and jumping to kick the demon in the face- Only for the demon to catch him by the foot, spinning him around and tossing him. Wukong's back slammed against the mountain they'd ended up fighting beside, and he fell onto one knee for a moment.

And then he slowly stood back up, his fur messed up. He used his sleeve to wipe some blood away from the corner of his mouth, his eyes burning red and oh-

Oh, that was kinda hot-

Macaque immediately cursed letting himself get distracted, as the flowers grew in his chest, and he stumbled, wheezing as a few golden petals fell out of his mouth.

A wave of magic hit him from behind, knocking him to the ground and sending him skidding over to where Wukong now stood.

"Shit- are you okay?" Wukong asked, keeping one eye on the demon, who simply watched them in slight amusement, as he helped the shadow monkey back to his feet. Macaque glanced between the demon and Wukong, feeling the flowers in both his throat and his mouth.

Fuck, he wouldn't be able to win this fight if he stayed like this, in this state.

...Which only left him one option.

Taking only the barest of seconds to prepare himself, Macaque grabbed a hold of both side of Wukong's face, ignoring the monkey's confused squeak as he made sure their eyes met.

"I love you." Macaque said, a single petal falling out of his mouth.

"...I love you too?" Wukong said, confusion and shock filling his face.

"Wait, what?" Macaque asked, but was given no time to question it as the demon seemingly had enough of waiting, and threw a whip of magic at them, the two monkeys having to separate from each other and leap to different sides in order to avoid the attack. As the dust from the attack settled, Macaque locked eyes with Wukong again, the Monkey King's face coloured with a blush, looking shocked, and Macaque was sure the expression was reflected on his own face.

"You love me too?!" He asked, sliding to the side, to avoid another attack.

"Yes!" Wukong shouted, backflipping out of the way of a burst of flame.

"Then why did you say it as a question?!" Macaque asked, slowly making his way back over to the other monkey while avoiding the demon's attempts to hit him at the same time.

"I don't know, why did you confess in the middle of a fight!?" Wukong asked, mirroring the other monkey's movements.

"It seemed like the best option!" Macaque said, leaping over top of another magic whip, spinning around and finding himself back to back with Wukong. "I- I didn't really think it through."

"And people say that I'm the impulsive one." Wukong muttered, deflecting a beam of magic away from them with his wrist.

"I heard that." Macaque hissed, turning ever so slightly to glare at him.

"I know." Wukong said- before turning and knocking Macaque to the ground, just in time for a blade to go sailing over top of them. "When did he get a scythe?!"

"How should I know?!" Macaque asked- before his ear twitched, and he grabbed Wukong's shoulders, rolling the both of over to the right, swapping their positions as the ground where they had previously been suddenly broke apart, a spike rising out of it. Both of them stared at it in shock, before glancing back at each other.

"Well, there's one thing that I think we both know." Wukong said, as Macaque stood up, pulling Wukong to his feet along with him. They both turned to glare at the demon. "And it's that we're starting to get real sick of this guy."

"...You know, I hear that there's a solar eclipse coming up." Macaque said, and Wukong immediately smirked.

The demon sent another blast of magic, and, still holding hands, the two of them stepped to the side, Macaque even taking things one step further, twirling Wukong as they dodged the blast, before pulling away, giving the Monkey King a small bow before falling down into the shadows. Wukong, smirk still wide on his face, turned to face the demon with a determined look.

Running forwards, swiftly moving left and right to stay out of the way of the demon's attacks, Wukong got himself right up in the demon's face. Jumping, he flipped backwards, hitting the demon in the chin with his foot as he did so, before landing on his feet slightly further back than he'd been before.

The demon rubbed his chin, eyes blazing with anger, and Wukong laughed.

"C'mon, is this the best you can throw at me?" He taunted, practically dancing out of the way of the spikes that shot out of the ground at him. "Surely you can do better than this!"

The demon growled, not seeing the trap for what it was, summoning his scythe and charging forwards. Wukong stayed where he was, smirk still firm in place on his face.

When the blade was almost close enough for Wukong to taste the tang of the metal, the shadows in front of him shifted.

Macaque shot up from the shadows, with a spear made out of the darkness, easily blocking the demon's attack, his eyes glowing purple as he stepped forwards, shadows still trailing and swirling around his feet as he forced the demon to take a step back.

The demon grit his teeth, so focused in trying to keep Macaque advancing any further- that he failed to notice as Wukong slid beside him, his eyes glowing red as he took power away from his glamours and channeled it into making sure this punch was the last one.

The strike hit, and Macaque stepped back, his fur rustled by the wind as the demon was sent flying past him, slamming into the mountain, hard.

The two monkeys stood there for a moment, panting, staring at the demon's prone form.

A minute passed, and that was all it took for the two of them to confirm that the demon was not going to be getting back up.

A sigh of relief left the two of them, Wukong falling down to sit on the ground, while Macaque slumped, leaning against his spear as the two of them took a moment to finally relax.

Only to jump as a field of yellow chrysanthemums and purple, flowering wisterias appeared around them.

The two of them stared around themselves in shock for a moment, Macaque dispelling his spear as he sank down to the ground beside Wukong. A breeze flew by, knocking loose a few petals, mixing yellow and purple together.

"...You know, I can't decide if these flowers are hilariously late or perfectly on time." Macaque said, and Wukong laughed.

"Say, who do you think has more flowers for them?" He asked, and the both of them took a second to think about it, looking out over the field. Wukong abruptly stood up. "Why don't we make some clones to help and find out?"

Macaque laughed, standing up and summoning his own shadow clones as Wukong blew on a few of his hairs, and they went to work, counting flowers.

...In the end, they ended up giving up after the third recount also ended up in a tie.

When the two of them finally returned to the ship, adorn in matching flower crowns, MK took one look at them, a brief expression of shock flickering on his face, before he fell backwards onto the couch, a strangled laugh escaping him.

"Fucking finally!"

#Monkie Kid #shadowpeach #fanfic #my writing #non fatal hanahaki au #this took forever

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ladyartemesia · 4 years

Text

The Terms

◐ PART III of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Series Masterlist ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Mature (for this installment)

Warnings: ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming. Violence and discussion of violence relating to ritual combat. Jin’s pheromones need their own warning. Yoonji and Yunli are not the same person.

Word Count: 2300

Author’s Note: As promised, this chapter is twice as long as the previous two and a lot of what people have been speculating about in the asks is discussed in this chapter... along with a few surprises...

“Luna rex provocatione means ‘the moon king’s challenge.’ It is never invoked lightly as its consequences are grave indeed... If an alpha believes that he is the true Alpha and the goddess has placed another in his path as a test of worthiness and dedication to the pack, then he will acknowledge his acceptance of this test by declaring luna rex provocatione. Once the challenge has been set forth only the death of the Luna’s first mate or the total surrender of the challenger can satisfy it...”

Text of the traditional speech given by a chief elder to begin a luna rex provocatione ritual [7th century]

“I know you won’t understand, but this isn’t personal-”

Jimin offered his rival an overtly feigned smile.

“You plan to kill me and claim my mate. Which part of that could I possibly take personally?”

Tae snorted somewhere in the background and Yoongi elbowed him hard.

Tradition dictated that both alphas meet with their second-in-commands in the chief elder’s chambers to discuss the terms of combat.

Namjoon brought Min Yoongi and Jimin had somehow ended up with Taehyung.

He didn’t remember actually agreeing to make Tae his second...

It just sort of happened somewhere between calming his hysterical mother and quickly reading up on archaic pack law.

The chief elder coughed uncomfortably. Goddess, this ascension was supposed to be easy. He never in a million moons thought he’d be in this position.

The last chief elder who oversaw a luna rex provocatione ritual had immortalized it in his journal as “the single most horrific moment of my life,” describing in detail the Luna howling in torment at the loss of her mate and the victor collapsing over the corpse of his foe in misery and guilt.

As in the past, the outcome of this conflict was already decided by fate...

Pain and regret weighed heavily on the older man as he considered the younger of the two alphas.

Park Jimin was going to die violently and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Because Kim Namjoon issued the challenge, his opponent will decide combat form. Your choices are human form, half-shifted, and wolf-form. After your choice is declared, Namjoon may add a minor alteration if he so desires. Park Jimin, please declare form.”

“Human,” he answered softly - and every single occupant of the room recoiled in response.

It was bad enough to witness a fight in wolf form or half-shifted... but to engage in ritual combat as a human-

It would be brutal - even psychologically disturbing - without the benefit of a wolf’s hide to mask the savagery.

Namjoon’s eyes widened in shock, but he recovered quickly.

“I request teeth and claws.”

Not quite a half-shift. Teeth and claws allowed for attacks using lengthened canines and claws.

It could make a kill slightly more... humane.

Jimin nodded and the elder pressed his seal over the first of the terms.

The were no windows in the small, stuffy chamber and between the heavy ceremonial garb and the nearly twenty braided praesidium bracelets wrapped around his wrists, Jimin felt as if the blood in his veins was literally coming to a boil.

Though he dared not remove them to relieve his discomfort.

Each bracelet represented a prayer to the goddess. They were given as protection to a loved one before a great trial.

His mother had not stopped making them since the ascension. She’d torn apart her most expensive dress and spent hours twisting the fabric strips into intricate traditional braids while she prayed...

Jimin’s fingers sought them out for comfort as the miserable parade of ritual legalities marched past the two hour mark.

Many agreements (like Jimin’s insistence that his mother not be allowed to attend the fight and Namjoon’s pledge to financially support the Park family in the event of their alpha’s death) were settled quickly, however the sheer number of details to be solidified was overwhelming.

“I think it best if we adjourn for a short recess,” the chief elder sighed wearily and Taehyung nearly ran Yoongi over in his desperate scramble to finally use a restroom.

Jimin turned to leave, but a hand on his elbow drew him back.

“I want you to know, I did this for you as much as for the rest of them.”

His tone was low and carefully respectful, but Jimin’s wolf snapped irritably at the elder alpha’s presumption.

“What an... interesting statement to make.”

He pointedly removed Namjoon’s hand from his arm with calculated nonchalance.

“No one expected you to be chosen... Jungkook, or even Hoseok, would have been an understandable alternative, but you’ve never taken being an alpha seriously-”

“According to you,” Jimin fired back, finally allowing his voice to harden in cold fury. “I have always known and valued what I am. I simply never felt called to your version of it.”

Namjoon tilted his head in acknowledgement.

Park Jimin might not look particularly dangerous ... but for the first time, the Kim alpha considered that he may have underestimated his opponent.

“Either way - the pack does not trust you. They are not confident in your ability to lead them,”his hands fisted reflexively at his side as he considered the weight of his next words, “...but if you beat me, they will never question your strength.”

Jimin’s hands tightened into fists.

Namjoon might be an overconfident windbag, but he had a point.

He faced an uphill battle to subdue a restless pack as well as increased threats from rival clans looking to expand their own power and territory.

The challenge was a chance to establish his claim.

Or die trying.

“You think rather highly of yourself,” he chuckled and Namjoon bristled indignantly.

“I have devoted my life to the pack. I have never questioned my duty to them.” He leaned forward a bit, holding the younger alpha’s gaze with purpose. “That is why I will not hesitate to kill you.”

“And what of the Luna?” Jimin wondered in mock contemplation. “Do you think she will take kindly to the loss of her mate if you win?”

Namjoon’s jaw clenched. The Luna was clearly a sore subject.

“If I win, then you were never really her mate were you? Your entire existence boils down to nothing more than a sacred test in my destined path.”

Silence stretched heavily as the two alphas regarded one another with open hostility.

“I will fight you till the last shred of life is ripped from my body,” Jimin snarled.

A shiver ran down Namjoon’s spine, though he was far from intimidated.

“At least now you sound like an alpha,” he scoffed.

Then he was gone.

Jimin waited till the sound of the older man’s footsteps faded before slamming his fist into the table.

He needed air and to be alone with his thoughts for moment before he could civilly resume the endless negotiations.

Unfortunately, the only place offering both of those things was a cluttered balcony near the back of the building.

The room traditionally designated for luna rex provocatione proceedings had been used as a storage closet for at least the last hundred years (and therefore needed to be hastily cleared after Namjoon’s inconvenient declaration). Consequently, the room’s former contents (piles of toys from this season’s charity drive) were now strewn haphazardly across the narrow outdoor space like debris from a brightly colored bomb.

Jimin carefully navigated his way to the balcony’s wooden rail and lifted his eyes to the moon.

“Please,” he begged softly “... send me a sign.”

“If he did not hate me before, he surely does now,” you sighed, staring morosely at the lights flickering in the old chamber building. Somewhere within the bowels of that archaic fire hazard, your mate of less than twenty-four hours was negotiating a nightmare.

“This is not your fault, Luna-“

“Isn’t it?” you snapped. “That’s who I am. I’m the Luna, if I could just accept another mate without someone getting their throat ripped out, then none of this would be necessary.”

Jin sqeezed your hand sympathetically.

The council placed you under guard in a small cottage across from the elder’s chambers in order to prevent the alphas from having any contact with you. Since then you kept a constant vigil from its rickety porch, hoping to catch a glimpse of the young man whose life you had ruined.

“Would you do it then - if you could?... Would you accept another mate to spare the Park alpha?”

Bitter tears burned at the corner of your eyes.

“Yes,” you whispered, “...I think I’d do almost anything to save him.”

Comfortable silence settled between you for several minutes - until a small flutter of movement drew your gaze to the chamber balcony.

Then he walked out.

And just the sight of him was enough to slam your heart up into your throat.

Jimin...

Jin quickly turned to your guard and unleashed a wave of pheromones that would have knocked out a grizzly bear. The guard whined and abandoned her post to follow him inside without a second thought, leaving you conveniently alone.

Male omegas are a rare and dangerous breed, you observed wryly, before retuning your attention to the man across the path.

A painful ache twisted hungrily in your gut as you watched him tilt his face to the sky. Somehow the relentless beauty of his features was even more captivating in the moonlight...

Suddenly a strong breeze braided though the air around you, playing with the loose strands of your hair and carrying your scent away from the small cottage and up to the balcony where the young alpha sought solace.

Jimin’s eyes shot open as the rich, unforgettable essence of you exploded over his senses. His gaze immediately locked with yours, cutting through the distance and darkness with an intensity that left you reeling.

You could not see his face at the ascension - instead the blindfold left you burning with curiosity as your mind conjured a thousand variations of how he might have looked on you in that moment...

Yet every last one of them fell short.

You could never have imagined the naked longing - the fierce desire - that burned boldly in his regard.

A strange, desperate frustration overtook you.

He was too far away - and Namjoon was going to take him from you before you could touch him again - before you could breathe him in again-

The cruel wind continued to pull your fragrance toward Jimin like an erotic incense, yet it offered you no such gift in return. You could not discern his scent and you wanted to - needed to - with a voracity that was almost blinding.

Please...

A mournful whimper tore from your lips and Jimin’s body reacted instantly to your distress.

Suddenly he was digging through the piles of mismatched trinkets and toys on the balcony, tossing aside all manner of discarded treasures till he finally found what he was searching for.

“Jimin-hyung! Where are you? Chief elder wishes to resume-”

Jimin glanced toward door as his fingers worked frantically over the object his hands.

“I’m on my way!”

His eyes found yours one last time, then he drew back-

A muted thwack echoed a few inches from your shoulder as whatever Jimin threw embedded itself into one of the porch beams.

Your fingers trembled with anticipation as you reached forward to retrieve (what appeared to be) a pointed metal dart - probably from a wall-mounted Darts game someone donated...

A length of braided cloth was tied tightly to the shaft and you recognized it immediately as a praesidium bracelet.

Soothing waves of Jimin’s scent drifted up from the fabric where it had rubbed repeatedly against the glands in his wrist.

Your body calmed instantly. Cold desperation gave way to the soft warmth of tenderness.

He knew.

He knew what you needed and he found a way to send it to you.

Your hand closed tightly over the bracelet as you crumpled to your knees and sobbed.

A gentle knock sounded at Namjoon’s door and a familiar figure slipped inside.

“...Yunli?”

Namjoon blinked for several moments in confusion before closing his evening read to approach her.

“Yunli... why - what are you doing here? It’s late - the ritual set to begin at sunrise.” He glanced at the door behind her, “Is Yoongi with you?”

She shook her head.

“My brother doesn’t know I’m here.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened as he considered all the ways his best friend’s younger sister sneaking into his house (in the middle of the night no less) could go horribly wrong.

“Ah. Well... that’s ...not good,” he mumbled, running his hand over his face. “Are-um - are you here to wish me luck for tomorrow?”

He reached for a glass of water to soothe his suddenly dry throat.

“No. Frankly I hope Park Jimin beats you to a bloody pulp.”

Water sprayed comically out of Namjoon’s mouth as he began to cough violently.

“What?!” *wheeze* “Why?!”

She offered him a sad smile.

“You know why, Kim Namjoon.”

He did know why.

Yunli had loved him (or believed she loved him) since she was a little girl.

He sighed heavily.

“Yunli, we’ve been over this-”

“One week. The change comes to me in one week-”

“You’re Yoongi’s sister-”

“I’ll be twenty years old, and for the last time I’m not your sister-”

“Goddess above, Yunli!” he shouted, “You’re just a child!”

Yunli’s hands gripped the collar of his shirt and yanked him down to her level.

“I am not a child!” she growled.

Then her mouth was on his and every single thought he ever had disappeared.

There was only her.

Heat poured through him like heavy syrup as his senses surrendered one by one. His arms wrapped around her without the slightest hesitation, as if their sole purpose was draw her in.

Sweet... Oh goddess, she’s sweet.

Yunli whined needily and a possessive growl rumbled from his chest in response.

Then she was pulling back - wrenching herself away from him with an anguished sob.

Bitter tears flowed freely down her impossibly beautiful face and Namjoon - who spent the majority of his life barely acknowledging his heart - suddenly felt it shatter.

“You should have waited for me,” she whispered.

“Yunli-I-” he tried calling out to her, but it was no use.

She was already gone.

“Are you sure you have everything you need?”

Jimin offered his second a distracted smile and nodded. His room looked the same as it did the morning of the ascension, yet his entire life was different...

“You were great today, Taehyung. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Tae felt his chest swell with pride. He didn’t want to think about what sunrise might bring, but he was determined to serve his old friend well.

For as long as he could.

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckled, recalling that he fell asleep on his feet for three entire terms before anyone noticed. “You’re a surprisingly ruthless negotiator. I barely contributed.”

“I wasn’t alone though...” Jimin whispered, “and when Namjoon first issued the challenge... I thought I might be.”

Taehyung gulped, pushing back the oppressive sorrow settling in his gut in favor of some levity.

“You - uh - you actually missed the wildest part of the whole day.”

“...I did?”

“Yeah it was bizarre. Did you notice the table was different after our break?”

Jimin shrugged. His thoughts had been... elsewhere at that point.

“We couldn’t find you at first, so you missed the whole ordeal but - when we all came back to the room, that big oak table was split in half.”

Hello my precious readers! If you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments.

(If you are already on the taglist, I will automatically tag you in all future chapters, you do not need to ask to be tagged again.)

Please please please PLEASE let me know what you think! This chapter was HARD and I genuinely aganized over it. Your feedback and support are what kept me pushing though. Truly. I would love to hear from you! I treasure every word of feedback like diamonds.

End Note: Yoonji was mentioned earlier in the story. She is Yoongi and Yunli’s cousin. Yunli and Yoonji are separate characters.

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gyuluster · 3 years

Text

one last present | (f)

“Soobin gifts you something unusual, but oddly perfect.”

oneshot | established relationship! au | 1.7k words

s u m m a r y : soobin has one last birthday present to spoil you with, and you certainly did not expect it.

w a r n i n g s : literally just fluff, so much fluff, soobin is best boyfriend, a little nerd information about animal disease but nothing too grim, a little kiss at the end ):

a u t h o r ‘ s n o t e : hello hi this sounds all over the place but idc because it’s @soobmint birthday and this is tailored very much to her liking anyway happy birthday chae i love u so much <3

back to masterlist

“I’M NOT ACCEPTING ANOTHER PRESENT FROM YOU.”

The said boy furrowed his brows, bottom lip jutting out slightly at your words. Despite the image being extremely adorable, you refused to submit.

Choi Soobin had spoiled you enough.

“But, ____,” he began, getting up from the sofa the both of you were cozily settled upon. A few of the opened presents fell on the carpeted floor from his lap, and, letting out a noise, he instantly dropped to his knees, picking up the objects.

“No buts!” you exclaimed, crossing your arms. “You’ve gifted me half the shopping mall! You can’t expect me to accept more!”

The pout was more prominent with every word of refusal. “Honey,” he murmured, and the endearment had your heart skipping a beat. He propped the fallen presents atop the coffee table before you, standing up straighter once again. “I like buying you gifts. I mean, It’s your birthday after all.”

Indeed it was so. Of course you knew, but your boyfriend made sure that you never forgot — the excitement which radiated from him these past few weeks almost became unbearable, knowing he was planning all these lavish outings and presents, but you could not help but go along with his wishful preparation. His pure, unadulterated joy at wanting to make your birthday as special as possible truly touched your heart.

“And plus, after this one, there are no more.”

When you answered him with a raised brow, quite unconvinced, he raised his fist into the air, a little finger erecting. “Pinky promise.”

“Pinky promise, huh?” You could not help a small smile escaping. “That serious?”

Nodding, he hovered the finger closer to you. “This present will be your absolute favourite.”

Looping your own pinky with his, he helped you off the sofa, making sure you didn’t drop any of the gifts around you. Then, wrapping the rest of his fingers around your hand, he led you out of his living room.

Taking a long journey into the hallways, you both turned to the kitchen, a vast marble sensation of countertops and island bars, courtesy of his parents’ wealth. Catching sight of the wall-length, transparent doors, Soobin held out his free hand, careful to be quiet as he opened the doors into the nature beyond.

The Choi’s garden was another world entirely — perhaps bigger than his house, a fine collection of all the fruit trees, bushes and flowers, scattered upon the lush grass, freshly trimmed this morning. You closed the door after you stepped into the cool evening air, the sun on its way to descent below the horizon.

“Where is this present, Soobin?” you asked him, curious as to why he steered you outside. He only answered with a knowing smile, converse quiet against the grass, hand on yours unwavering.

Your confusion only grew as, swiping past the trail of gran old oaks and birches, you ended up upon the small pond right at the end of your boyfriend’s garden. It shimmered with the golden light of the dying sun, a few crickets resonating around its edges. The little reservoir was your favourite place inside his domain, a lilting peace always exuding from the calm waters, lapping against the slight bank.

However, as your eyes wandered, there was a new addition, settled beside the pond. “What is this?” you wondered out loud, gazing over the small, wooden structure, slightly bigger than a sandcastle. Its detail was incredibly intricate, a tall arc carved out in the front, a moving creature fidgeting at the edge. The roof was slanted, like that of a miniature cabin, and your previous interest had only heightened, tugging on the sleeve of Soobin’s white shirt.

“Stay here,” he said, letting go of your hand for a moment. Carefully stepping along the edges of the pond, he kneeled next to the wooden construction, leaning in as his hands slid inside the open doorway. You crept a step closer, craning your head forward to catch a glimpse, but when you saw your boyfriend murmuring sweet nothings to the unknown inside, you stopped.

That was when he brought his hands out, now very much occupied.

A gasp escaped you at what was revealed.

Two small ducklings snuggled in the folds of Soobin’s hand, making soft quacking noises as his finger stroked each of their heads softly. Your face morphed into one of infinite tenderness as a smile curled instantly upon his lips at the reaction.

Slowly, as not to disturb the animals, he walked over to you, eyes never leaving their faded yellow coats. Only when he stepped before you he looked up, sharing some of his elation within your gaze.

“My last present,” he declared. Hovering his full hands closer to you, he added, “Here.”

You did not dare answer him, holding your hands out as, ever so gently, Soobin dipped the ducklings into your care. Their webbed feet clung onto your palms as they curled against you, welcoming your warmth. Your nerves had to be thanked for that, rising with each caress of their feathers against your skin.

Your eyes lifted to the boy before you.

He was not wrong at all — this really was your favourite present. “How…” you got out, but of course he knew, of course he knew that you had wanted these creatures for so long.

It wasn’t exactly a secret that you wanted ducks — it was certainly a bizarre first pet to have, but you always found these types of birds adorable. Whenever you and Soobin would walk through the parks in your city, you would rush to the waterworks within nature, and stare at the families of ducks for hours on end. Sometimes, the poor boy had to haul you out of the forests, but he always found his heart turning in on itself whenever he stole a glimpse of your excited smile.

So when he ended up in the animal shelter one day, weeks before tonight, in search of these animals, he saw these two baby ducklings, and instantly made sure to whisk them away within his pond, hiding them and their little cabin from your curious footsteps.

Until this day. When now, they nearly slept with the gentle stillness you kept them in.

He could see it in your eyes. You were already in love with them.

“What…” you gulped, thumbs caressing their tiny heads. “What did you name them?”

Soobin’s hand crept up to his neck, scratching awkwardly. “You better not laugh.”

You narrowed your brows. “Why?”

He pointed at the left duckling. “So this one is Aristotle,” he began, awaiting your teasing, “And this one—” pointing to the right, “—is called Plato.”

There was a long silence before you burst into soft laughter.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, locking his hands behind his back. “I told you not to laugh.”

“I’m sorry, baby!” you gasped out, grinning. “I didn’t realise one semester of Greek Philosophy could change you this way.”

“Stop!” he whined, stepping closer as he observed the slumbering ducklings. “I don’t know, I just really liked the ring of it, okay?”

“Awww, don’t worry, Soobs,” you reassured him, nudging his leg with your foot. “I like the names.”

It was his turn to give you the unconvinced raise of his brows. “I’d bring out my pinkie, but my hands are a bit occupied.”

Satisfied, he nodded, watching you tend to your living gift with your fingers. “There’s something a little wrong with them, ____.”

Smile fading, you glanced up at him. “What do you mean?”

He crossed his arms. “The lady at the shelter mentioned some time of...preen malfunction?”

You knew exactly he was inferring to. “Malfunctioning preen glands?” Your fingers brushed against the base of the ducklings’ tails, feeling an odd texture around their feathers. “I researched this while I was looking for ducks as pets. It means that their feathers don’t dry properly, which can be really dangerous for them.”

“Oh my God,” he muttered. “I should have looked into it further!” He groaned, swiping away his hair from his line of sight. “How am I going to take care of them properly?”

Your stare upon him seemed to calm him down. “Soobin, it’s okay.” Gingerly, you patted their backs. “I know how to treat this.”

“I’m sorry for putting this responsibility on you, honey,” he mumbled, taking one final step to you before planting his hands on your shoulders. “I wanted you to have some ducklings, but seeing these sick ones just...it did something within me.

“I felt like I had to get them somewhere safe, ____. And the only safe haven I could think of was you.”

Your eyes widened, his touch all the more prevalent. Soobin noticed, cocking his head. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

His hands crept up, sliding from your neck to hold your face in his slender fingers. “Do you not realise that I associate you with all the good things in the world?”

You swallowed a lump in your throat, refusing to let the sting of tears win over you. “There’s a reason I presented you with the ducklings, honey. If you’re so good to me, then little Plato and Aristotle will forever be loved.”

Oh, God. How could you fight the waterworks after that?

Raising upwards, you closed your eyes as you captured Soobin’s lips, insides singing at how he welcomed the touch. His fingertips stroked your cheeks as he leaned further into the kiss, moving against your mouth like a lovestruck fool, yearning for you and everything you represented.

As the sun fully descended, you opened up slightly for him, the boy clinging onto your bottom lip till a soft moan escaped you, causing him to lose nearly all of his senses. He might have gone further, may have teased his tongue along the swell of your mouth, but he held back.

If it weren’t for the creatures nestled in your hands, he would have dared, but he pulled back, breathing a little panted as his thumb caressed the apple of your cheeks.

“Happy Birthday, ____,” he whispered, eyes swirling with lifelong affection.

“I love you, Soobin,” you replied, lips curving upwards.

Then you looked down at the slumbering ducklings, smile growing.

And I love you two, too.

#txt imagines #soobin imagines #choi soobin imagines #txt fluff #choi soobin fluff #soobin fluff #txt scenarios #choi soobin #soobin #choi soobin scenarios #soobin x reader #choi soobin oneshots #choi soobin x reader #txt x reader #txt #tomorrow x together imagines #tomorrow x together

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Yours Truly (Pt. 2)

Requested By: Some of you!

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

AU: College

Word Count: Part 1 -> 9,786 // Part 2 -> 7,433

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Pining, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Here's the second and final part of the imagine, gang. I hope you enjoy the adventures I wrote for you! Let me know about your fav part(s)!

♡ Happy Reading ♡

Part 1 -- Click Here

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

5.) Epiphanies

A Week Later

"Yuqi, why the hell did you drag me here? I'd so much rather be writing…" you shove your hands further into the pockets of your hoodie and look at her with a scowl. Rows of people fill the bleachers around you, everyone excited for the football game that's scheduled to start soon. Happy couples sit together all around the stadium, and the sight only works to remind you of how weird things are with Jisoo right now.

"One: it's a Friday night and you need to let loose, and two: I wanted to come, so you have to tag along by default. The rules of friendship are very simple, Y/N," she trails off, tilting her head at you with a smile.

"Well I am gonna go get some food," you imitate her, "Do you want anything?" You stand from the bench and look down at her, noticing how her permed hair sticks up in a few different places. You smooth it out for her as she answers, "Nachos, please."

"Alright, dork. I'm sure the line's kinda long, but come look for me if I'm not back in 20." She pats your butt as you leave, and you just shake your head with a smile.

"--I know! Did you hear about Lee's new girlfriend? I heard she got in a fight with his ex last ni--"

"I'm fucking starving bro."

"Yeah, they totally hooked up at Jackson's party!"

Various conversations work their way to your ears as you walk towards the back of the line, but you attempt to not get too invested in the gossip. As welcoming as your school tends to be, even it has its fair share of scandals and drama. You've never been one to care about rumors though, and you don't plan to start now.

"I heard that Jisoo likes someone."

Funny how plans can change in an instant, don't you think?

You can't find it in yourself to ignore the childish desire to eavesdrop, so you listen in as the line slowly shifts forward with each new customer served, doing your best to be inconspicuous.

"Supposedly she's been into them for a while but they don't know about it. I guess Lisa is planning to get them together tonight or something, I don't know." You recognize the brunette speaking as Seulgi, a dance major that you share a couple classes with. She's talking to Yeri, whom you've seen a few times in passing.

That must be why she was defensive about the kiss; she has feelings for someone else.

"Ooh, that'll be interesting. I can't say that I'm not disappointed, though; now Jisoo's gonna be off the market." The shorter girl frowns, basically reading your mind with her statement. You've never fooled yourself into believing you have a chance with Jisoo, but knowing that she'll be whisked away by some lucky classmate of yours definitely isn't an easy pill to swallow.

You pass the remaining wait time by imagining who that person may be. Jisoo has a lot of friends, but you've never seen her around campus with any particular love interest; she always puts her studies first, deciding that her education is far more important than any potential relationship.

You remain lost in your thoughts until it's your turn to order.

"Hey Y/N, what can I get for you?" The cashier greets, resetting the register as she grins at you.

"Hi Yeji," you smile back, happy to see your old friend again after what feels like forever. Your busy schedules have kept you from hanging out much lately, but seeing her now is something you're grateful for. "I'll take two waters, a medium nacho, and 1 hot dog, please."

"You want everything on it?" She asks in reference to your last request, assuming you still stick with the order you used to go with in your childhood.

"You know it. And make sure to--"

"--spread the toppings out well. I remember, girl." She says with a wink, turning around to get started on your order. The familiar interaction warms your heart, aided by the idea that some things never change. After she packages your things up in a convenient little container, you thank her and pay, walking away with a promise to meet up at the school's café next week.

About halfway back to your seat, something unexpected happens.

"Rosie, we can't buy out the whole place. This is the 4th trip we've taken back here and the game hasn't even started yet!" You freeze as you round the corner, almost dropping your food as Jisoo's low voice sounds off nearby.

"Unnie, I didn't even get to eat much of the other stuff at all! Lisa and Jennie stole it and shared it with everyone else," the artist pouts, rolling her hands into fists at her sides like a toddler.

"Fine. But this is the last trip I'm taking." She warns, rolling her eyes when the Australian attacks her with a flurry of kisses. "Yah! Let's go before we miss something." She says, pushing her off of her with a smile on her face.

Even her voice makes your heart ache, and it reminds you of what her kiss felt like against your lips. It was short, no doubt, and barely there; but the sparks remain, waiting to be reignited anytime she's around. Maybe you're just destined to pine.

----

"There you are! I was literally about to go steal some food from Shuhua because you were taking so long."

"Yeah, yeah," you say, sitting down beside Yuqi with the cardboard box in your hands. "You're lucky I love you enough to pay for this. Now I'll have to survive on 3 grains of rice and ramen for the next few weeks."

"Oh, the struggles of being a broke college student." She says woefully, clutching her hands together in front of her chest to add to the effect.

"Precisely," you agree, scooting closer to offer her some nachos. When she tries to greedily take the whole tray of them, you're quick to stop her.

"Ah, ah, ah," you warn, pulling her wrist back down. "We're sharing, chica." She huffs, but eventually settles down and decides to shove her face full instead of protesting anymore.

Now, with your best friend happily eating, you relax and begin to prepare yourself for the match.

"LET'S GO!" You shout with Yuqi, chanting together as your school's anthem echoes throughout the stadium. The rival team has been behind the entire game, but they closed the gap in the last few minutes and now it's neck and neck. Your band plays loudly to encourage your team, and it seems to be working; they manage to repeatedly hold the others off and keep them from scoring.

It's the start of the fourth quarter now -- the home stretch. With their spirits still high, your team continues to keep victory out of their opponents hands. The black paint underneath their eyes is really streaked now, showing all the effort and sweat that they've put into the game so far. A beautiful sunset just previously gave way to a rapidly darkening evening sky, allowing some stars to peek out now.

"My high school team sucked; this is epic!" Yuqi says, making you laugh. You tear your eyes away from the heated game to say something to her, but all thoughts soon disappear from your mind and you stop mid-sentence.

She notices your sudden silence and looks at you, only realizing what's happening once she follows your line of sight. Jeong is standing against the metal fence that borders the track, mingling with everyone at the bottom of the bleachers. That doesn't bother you, but what you see next certainly does; you spot Jisoo beside him, giggling at something he said as he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Oh shit," Yuqi breathes out, fully grasping the weight of the situation now. She doesn't even attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he knows how in love you are with Jisoo and yet there he is, flirting away. He's the only other person besides Yuqi who knows of your feelings for the brunette, and you really trusted him with it. Clearly that was a mistake. You blink a few times and set your jaw, quickly looking away as he moves closer to whisper something in her ear over the noise of the crowd.

"I'm gonna head out to the car. Just let me know who wins," you mumble, brushing past her on your way toward the exit. You know there's no way you'd be able to focus on the game anymore after seeing that, so going is your best option. She catches your arm before you can slip away, and says, "Wait, I'm coming with you. And don't even try to tell me no; I can always watch highlights later. I'm not gonna let you be alone right now."

Knowing it's pointless to argue anymore, you nod once and wait for her to gather up her trash and coat. "Let's go," she says, taking your hand after tossing her garbage in the can conveniently placed at the end of your row. She squeezes it a few times for reassurance, and a bittersweet smile works onto your lips at the gesture.

You don't notice how Jisoo's eyes follow you, every fiber of her being yelling at her to go after you. She hates seeing you sad, and although she isn't 100% sure of the reason for it now, all she wants is to cheer you up.

"So, Jisoo. Do you have any plans after the game?" Jeong smirks, quirking a brow suggestively at his own question. Jisoo grimaces, saying, "Yeah, I do. I have to study." She tries to find you in the crowd again, but it seems that you've already slipped away.

"We're throwing a party tonight, you should come." He leans a little closer to her, but she takes a step back. The only reason she's even talking to him right now is because Lisa introduced them, and it would be impolite not to. She turns him down, yet again sneaking a glance around the stadium.

"No wonder Y/N's too chicken to ask you out; you're hard to get, but I don't mind a challenge." Her head whips around at his statement, heart regaining that familiar uptick at the mention of you. "What?" She blinks, not believing her ears. Surely she was just hearing things.

"I said I don't mind a challenge," his words come out slightly slurred, and the effects of the alcohol he's been drinking are beginning to show themselves in all the wrong ways. The more he talks, the less Jisoo can stand him. "Look, Jeong -- I'm not interested. I'm sure there are other girls here that would love to get to know you, but I'm not one of them. Now, if you'll excuse me," she says, turning her body to the side to maneuver around him and get to the stairs. He lets her go without another word, his pride too bruised to come up with a more fitting response than a muttered insult.

She makes quick work of getting to the parking lot, where she spots you approaching Yuqi's car, head hanging a bit. Seeing you upset saddens her, and she's determined to find out what's wrong.

"Y/N! Wait up!" The shout catches your attention, and you slowly spin around. Jisoo begins to jog out to you, and a scoff slips past your lips (though you don't put much effort into stopping it). You're hurt, and half of the reason for your pain is staring right back at you like nothing happened.

"What do you want, Jisoo?" You sigh, not looking forward to where this conversation will most certainly go.

"I want to talk, Y/N." She's in front of you now, scanning her eyes between yours to gauge your reaction.

"What is there to say? Just go back to talking to Jeong; you looked like you were enjoying yourself." She can hear the jealousy laced in your tone, and things finally -- finally -- begin to click for her.

"Is that what this is about?" She asks in reference to your sadness. The question isn't accusatory at all; she's genuinely trying to piece things together.

A disbelieving laugh leaves you at that. How is she still so oblivious? "Yes, Jisoo, it is. I just had to witness someone who I thought was my friend flirt with my crush. So yeah, that's what this is about." Sensing that she doesn't know what to say, you decide to conclude things for her. This is already pitiful enough, and you'd rather spare the both of you from having the "it's not you, it's me" talk.

"Look, I get it. You don't like me back, and you were only trying to be friendly by inviting me to the rehearsal that night. Just please, for the both of us, forget it even happened. Forget all of this. It was a mistake, and I won't do it again."

Jisoo hates that you're jumping to conclusions without even knowing her true feelings; you automatically think that she couldn't possibly feel the same, and you use her moment of silence as a form of evidence to prove that. The complete opposite is true, though you'd never give her enough time to straighten out her jumbled thoughts and tell you that.

She finds her voice when you turn away, and she reaches out to touch your hand. "Stop, you've got it all wrong." Your eyes glance down to your intertwined hands, but you wiggle out of her grip with a heavy sigh. Over your shoulder, you shakily say, "You don't have to pretend for me, Jisoo. I'll be alright. If he makes you happy, then so be it."

With that, you get in Yuqi's car and tell her to drive away, leaving Jisoo to deal with the sinking feeling in her chest that worsens as the car's tail lights grow dimmer and dimmer in the distance. You're gone, and she really has no idea how to come back from this.

6.) Broken Hearted

The next few weeks were hell. You avoided Jisoo as much as possible, too embarrassed to face her after what happened and too weak to be close to her again. You'd surely fall even harder if you allowed yourself to grow any closer, so you didn't take the risk. How could you? Falling alone isn't an enjoyable experience, and you've been teetering on the edge of no return ever since that afternoon at the daycare.

It was hard enough to escape her hold -- her face was everywhere, plastered on ads and bulletin boards all throughout campus, on reminders and sign ups for student council. You used your sick days in order to hide away in your dorm and block out the world, only being comforted by Ryujin when she wasn't busy with her own life or Yuqi when she could spare a few hours. They always made sure to care for you as much as they could, knowing first hand how tough heartbreak can be -- especially with the added stress of schoolwork.

One person you thought about often was Jeong. Every time he'd cross your mind, dirtying up your brainwaves with the mere notion of himself, you'd grimace. He didn't deserve the attention, and yet you couldn't help but question why he did that to you. He hadn't reached out since that night, likely due to Yuqi giving him a piece of her mind after the game. He made it clear that he wasn't sorry, and that if given the chance, he'd play his cards even better and hopefully score a date with Jisoo.

Maybe that was the worst part of it all. Hearing that it hadn't just been a stupid thing he did because he was drunk; he realized the weight of his actions, and he'd do it again, over and over, without caring about how you fit into the equation. That football game was simply a turning point, hidden in plain sight as an unassuming night for you to hang out with Yuqi. But you learned more then than you had ever intended to; Jeong's selfish, and he probably never even cared for you in the first place. The idea of that makes you feel dirty -- like you wasted so much of your time with such a horrible person, sticking up for him and defending his name when he wasn't around when he never even deserved that in the first place. You wish you would've known who he really was back then; you would've stayed away.

Unbeknownst to you, Jisoo was struggling much like you -- minus the whole "betrayed by a best friend" situation. Every time that she showed up in class, she hoped with every piece of herself that you'd walk through the door and grace the room with your presence. You seldom ever did, though -- but when you ran out of free days of absence and were forced to attend class in order to keep your grades up, you never even uttered a word to her. She'd make it a point to ask questions in class, hoping that hearing her voice would bring something out of you, as yours did to her. She longed to talk to you again, if only for a minute; but your resolve remained strong, and her determination grew weaker as the days went by.

Being the person she is, though, she knew giving up wasn't an option. After a few weeks of that cycle, greeting stands were placed at the front doors of each complex on campus, manned by different members of the council. She came up with a story for the administration on the fly, using her people skills to convince them that it would be good for student morale and getting more people to join clubs. It was a great effort, but she underestimated your avoidance skills; you thwarted her plans again, slipping right through her strategically linked fingers.

Eventually, she lost hope. She exhausted every option she knew to try, and the girls ran out of new ones as well. Seeing their unnie so upset saddened them, and they did all they could to cheer her up in any and every way they knew how.

7.) Premiere Night

"Y/N, get up. You're gonna shower and get dressed if I have to force you to do it myself." Yuqi commands, blasting into your room and flipping on the overhead light that shines far too bright for your liking.

"Mmm," you groan in protest, not even bothering to roll over.

"I mean it; don't test me, you know I'm true to my word."

"Why, Yuqi?"

"Because we're going to the performance tonight. The big show that everyone has been going on about is premiering, and you're coming with me to see it."

"I can't do that." You say, her words sobering you up from your sleepy stupor.

"I know who the lead is," she informs, already knowing about your reasons for being hesitant, "and that's precisely why we're going. You can't keep living like this, so either go get your girl, or agree to be friends with her and work past what you're dealing with."

"You sound like a mom at the end of an 80s movie."

"80s movie moms are valid, so I'll take that as a compliment. Now go!" She shouts, shoving you off the bed. You tumble to the floor in a heap of blankets and pillows, still managing to hit your funny bone as you let out a pained groan.

"Remind me to slap her later, Ryujin."

"Will do." She salutes, reaching a hand down to help you up. With one last glare at an annoyingly bubbly Yuqi, you head to the bathroom to shower.

----

"How do I look?" You ask, looking yourself up and down in the skinny mirror attached to the wall.

"Is it gay if I say I'd ask you out?" Yuqi asks with a smile, fanning herself animatedly when you strike a pose.

"Very much so, yes."

"Well, hand me the rainbow suspenders, then."

You push her over with a laugh -- the first real one you've shared in a while -- and wrap her in a hug.

"Thank you, for real. I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have you." You say against her shoulder, pulling back to look at your roommate and add, "Either of you." The three of you settle in for a group hug and tell a few more jokes before Yuqi finally drags you out of the dorm.

----

"How does it feel to be back in society?" Yuqi whispers, leaning in close to you to read the seat numbers printed on your tickets.

"As lame as ever." You add, amusingly unenthused.

"You're never gonna convince Jisoo to date your dumbass with that attitude." She retorts, feeling a little guilty when she sees your expression change upon hearing her name. You're afraid to see where the two of you will stand at the end of the night, so saying it's still a sore subject is the understatement of the year.

"I'm messing with you, dude. If she doesn't want to be with you, then it's her loss; but I highly doubt that's the case. I've heard she misses you a lot." For once, Yuqi's words are halfway encouraging to hear, and you let out a light smile.

"Well I'm prepared to worry about that whole situation later. For now, let's find our seats and enjoy the show." Your best friend quickly agrees, and the two of you squeeze through the crowds in the aisles to get to your row.

----

"Jisoo, I promise you'll do well. You've been practicing for months; you've got this," Soo-hyun says, rubbing his co-lead's back in reassuring circles. The certainty in his deep voice gives Jisoo some semblance of security, and she stands to look at him with one final, nervous sigh. Stage fright has never been this big of an issue for her, but the size of the crowd and the idea that you might be out there scare the hell out of her. She wants you to be there with all of her heart, but she doesn't know if she'll be able to handle watching you walk away again. The past few weeks have been torture, and she misses your presence and witty remarks more than she ever thought possible.

"Thank you, Soo-hyun. I'll meet you out there in a couple minutes, just let me collect myself."

He nods and says, "Take your time. I'll let Mrs. Choi know," before leaving and shutting the door behind himself. Now alone again, Jisoo digs through her personal bag that lays neatly on the small futon of the dressing room. When her fingers come in contact with that familiar material she's spent hours staring at, she bites the inside of her cheek and unfolds it for the millionth time. Multiple poems and blurbs litter the page, accompanied by cute doodles and cartoons here and there that give it a personal feel. She's spent the time away from you methodically working through the different writings, restraining herself from reading all of them in one setting so that she can have new content from time to time.

She's down to the last one, now, and a surprising sort of realization hits her when she reads it. It instills within her a sense of determination -- determination to get you back and set things right, one way or another. She makes a plan to find you after the performance.

-- After The Performance --

It was even more spectacular than you ever imagined it could be. The school spared no expense in getting the best props, employing the most skilled technicians on hand, and recruiting the best artists that the school had to paint the backdrops. Everyone behind the scenes worked tirelessly to produce the best show possible, and their efforts really paid off.

And, of course, you can't forget the actors.

The entire cast was incredible, their talent matching some of the world's most sought-after stars. Every part was played to perfection; even the smaller, supporting roles were acted with passion, really bringing the piece together as a whole. The production left you wanting more, too inspired and awestruck by the amazing performances to be content with just seeing it once. So, after numerous calls for an encore, the cast returned to run through a few of their key scenes.

---

As the cast takes their final bow, large cannons placed on either side of the stage shoot out bursts of colorful confetti, and you watch it flutter down around them. Some try to catch a piece or two to add to their scrapbooks, wanting to have a trinket from their college years, while others just hug each other and twirl around with content smiles on their faces. The crowd continues its loud cheering, and eventually you find the courage to sneak a glance at Jisoo.

To your surprise, she's looking right back.

Her eyes hold a mixed softness; she's proud of herself and glad that you came to support her on such a big night, but part of her wants to escape the busyness of it all and tell you everything she's been feeling. She'd be content with looking at you forever, she realizes, as she studies you. You're the true star in her eyes, always shining so bright and making everyone feel at home whenever they're around you. She hopes you know how special you are.

Mrs. Choi approaches the cast from stage right, gathering their attention to congratulate them and commend them for their performances. Jisoo reluctantly looks away from you, unsure if it's the last time she'll be seeing you tonight. The thought upsets her, but there isn't much she can do about it right now; so, she gives her attention to her professor and flashes that smile that makes everyone weak in the knees.

You knew it was just a matter of time before she'd be pulled away and immersed in some conversation about the show, but the selfish side of you never wanted her to look away. No matter how confusing things may be because of all of your unresolved issues, she still looks at you like she always had before -- her gaze is kind, albeit bittersweet, but it's full of care. Seeing her like that makes you feel like even more of an asshole than you already do -- maybe you should have just listened to her at the game. Running away was an immature choice, rooted entirely in your own sadness in that moment as you deprived yourself of any explanation she could've offered, though you can't judge yourself too harshly. The situation is complicated, and you still don't know whether to hate yourself for running or go easy on yourself in light of what happened.

When Yuqi sees you stand up and shuffle towards the end of your row, she sends you a warning look.

"Dude, I'm not gonna run away. I'm literally just gonna step outside for some fresh air, I promise." She visibly relaxes, no longer having to prepare herself to wrangle you back into the seat.

"Fine. But if you aren't back in 15 minutes I'm coming to track you down. You really need to talk to her."

You sigh, nodding in agreement. "I know, trust me. Just let me get my thoughts together first." She sends you off to do just that, but not until the two of you complete the special handshake you made up all those months ago.

---

Brisk air rushes over your skin in waves the moment you exit the side door of the building, automatically sending goosebumps to raise in its wake. It feels nice, though; it grounds you, and works to cool off your heated skin. The atmosphere inside was thick with the tension you've been feeling ever since what happened that night at the game, and its effects were only heightened by the raw performances of the evening. Passion and longing were the driving factors of the play, ironically, and many of the scenes drew eerie parallels to your current situation. So, it's no wonder that you're thankful to step away from it all for a bit.

You greet a few stray audience members that're puttering around outside as well, opting to walk down a little further away from them and lean against the building. The wall's brick material feels rough against your back, lightly scratching it whenever you shift your weight from one foot to the other. You don't mind it, though; it's oddly nostalgic, somehow.

When you hear the door open again, you think nothing of it. The metal hinges latch just the same as they had for you, so there's really no reason for you to even look up. However, that all changes when you feel someone's eyes on you.

Unprepared is leaps and bounds away from being a fitting statement to describe how you feel in that moment; Jisoo stands merely 10 feet away from you at most, right next to the stage door that she just came out of. Her hands fiddle with the drawstrings of her costume, seemingly always needing to be occupied when she's nervous or unsure of herself; it's a habit you've picked up on after seeing it so many times.

The longer you look at her, the more you want to look away; she's so beautiful it hurts, and the silence is eating away at you. You can't blame her, though; neither of you know what to say or do, and the only thing you seem capable of is staring at each other. When you break the intense eye contact you were sharing to turn away, only intending to take a minute to collect yourself, Jisoo is suddenly set in motion.

She's afraid you'll leave again, and she's prepared to fight even harder for you this time.

I love you as the stars love the night sky

A fateful, cyclic romance

A game of eager greetings and reluctant goodbyes

Those words -- ones that you remember penning one day in class while completely entranced by Jisoo -- roll from her lips effortlessly, as if she had spent time committing them to memory. She had, in fact; whenever days passed without her even catching a glimpse of you, she always found herself unfolding that note again, tracing a finger over the curve of your unique letters as she reread the poem. It always brought her comfort to think that you were in just as deep as her, and a similar sense of hope blossoms in her chest now when she spots an unbelieving smile tug at the corner of your lips as you slowly turn to face her again.

You're still into her, and she's falling even deeper at the realization. Maybe she didn't lose you after all.

She takes calculated steps towards you and breathes a sigh of relief when you stay put, not showing any signs of running. The wheels in your head are going into overdrive now, turning and churning as you process her little recital, and she prays with all of her heart that you won't be upset once you put two and two together.

"How did you…"

"You dropped it one day, and I picked it up. I meant to give it back to you, but I guess I just never got around to it." She feels a little guilty for keeping it as long as she has, but it's served as a way of keeping you close during your time apart. Those bits and pieces of you, scattered around on that page, encapsulated by the annotations and doodles you so kindly left behind, have stayed in her heart. Ever since she discovered it all that time ago, it's never been very far from her; she cherishes it more than you'll ever know.

"You didn't show it to anyone, right?" Your voice is laced with worry, lowered a bit to keep others from overhearing.

"No, no! Of course not. I just… kept it for myself. You're really talented; I couldn't stop reading your stuff."

"Thank, I guess?" You awkwardly chuckle, still a bit rusty on how to interact with her after everything. Plus, to be fair, having your crush read one of the love letters you wrote about her is a bit unheard of. Newfound territory, you think to yourself.

"How long?" You ask after a minute of silence, only realizing how loaded your question is after it slips past your lips, turning into a puff of steam in the chilly atmosphere. "How long have you… felt that way about me?" You quickly add, "Assuming that you feel what the poem says, of course."

An amused smile tweaks her lips at how cute you are. "I do, Y/N. I always have; ever since that afternoon at the daycare."

"Really?" The question is quiet, full of childlike disbelief.

"Really. It was always you." She says it freely now: unafraid.

The sentiment is sweet, but memories of the football game come flooding back and you're reminded that as much as you want to skip this next part, you still have things to discuss.

"What about Jeong?"

"What about him?"

"Did you ever like him?"

"No. The girls thought so, but it was just a misunderstanding. That's why Lisa introduced us at the game; she thought I had a crush on him, but I told her that you were always the one I was looking at. I told all of the girls that, after that night."

Her confession renders you speechless -- only capable of listening and nodding every now and then. She takes advantage of your silence to finally explain herself and tell you everything she's been dying to.

"I didn't know you felt the same until our talk in the parking lot. I mean, I was hopeful after some of the moments we had, but I didn't know for sure until then. I wanted to beg you to stay and hear me out, but you left before I had the chance."

You blink a few times as the reality of her words begin to sink in. "I had no idea…"

"Yeah, well…" she trails off, unsure of what to say next. She's forgiven you for walking away, knowing you were just hurt, but the whole situation still left a bad taste in her mouth. So much pain could've been avoided for the both of you if you had just listened.

"How did they take it?"

"They yelled at me for waiting so long to tell them, but then they tried to help me get you back. Remember those student council booths?" She leans in a little closer to ask that last line, her lips pulling to the side in that iconic smirk of hers.

You audibly gasp and point at her animatedly. "I knew that was you!"

"Mhm, pulled some fancy-sounding excuse out of my ass to convince the board, and boom; 20 brand new tables set up the next day. I still can't believe you managed to slip past them, though. I mean, c'mon, have you seen how talkative those kids can be?"

"Trust me, it wasn't easy," you laugh with her. "I had to sneak to the back entrances like a drug dealer."

"I can totally see that."

"I'm dedicated, what can I say?" The stupid hair flip you do makes her laugh even harder, clutching her stomach as those beautiful sounds slip past her lips.

As your shared laughter eventually turns into soft chuckles, she smiles at you, saying, "I really missed this. I missed you, so so much."

"I've been a wreck without you, Jisoo. It's honestly embarrassing."

She looks at you with something new shining in her eyes, and she carefully contemplates what she's about to admit. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

"I rarely cry, Y/N, but I did over you. So you have no reason to be embarrassed. It seems like both of us were pretty bad off." She looks down after saying that, scuffing her foot against the concrete of the sidewalk. Being vulnerable isn't usually easy for her, and she never really lets people see that side of her -- not even the girls. She feels like she has to stay strong for them to keep things running smoothly, but she fails to realize how important her own feelings are. You're different, though; she feels like her entire collection of secrets would be safe with you, and you make her feel secure enough to be open like that.

When she feels you step closer and hook two fingers underneath her chin, her eyes dart up to yours and her heart speeds up. Your other arm hesitantly wraps around her waist, giving her plenty of time to step away and deny you. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that she couldn't possibly want someone like you that you're genuinely surprised when she steps further into your embrace, pulling your arm tighter around herself.

Her right arm comes to rest loosely on your shoulder as her other hand caresses your forearm, rubbing various patterns against your smooth skin. "I tried so hard to get you to pick up on my flirting," she starts, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck as she holds you close. "Every touch," she runs a finger down your arm, leaving a trail of electricity in its wake. "Every look," she moves her hand from your neck to your cheek, cupping it sweetly as she gazes into your eyes. She strokes your skin with the pad of her thumb, smiling beautifully when she feels you nuzzle into her hold even more.

"And that kiss…" she says, sounding breathless at the mere thought of it. "I wanted it to last forever."

"Why didn't you tell me that, then?" You ask, not even a trace of anger in your tone. You're determined to let go of all the hurt and fear that your misunderstandings have caused, opting instead to finally get the answers you've wanted for so long. "After I came back from putting Aera to bed you were just… different. And then when you said it was just a part of the script--"

"I know. I was afraid that if I let myself have you like that -- if I let you in all the way -- there'd be no going back." When she sees the confusion building in your eyes, she continues on. "I don't usually let myself get distracted; I can't afford it. You know how seriously I take my studies." You nod, recalling the numerous times you've found her in the library until it closed, studying hard for the exams everyone knew she'd ace. "But you wiggled your way past every line of defense I ever put up. You became my favorite distraction." A dopey grin tugs at your lips at receiving that title, and you subconsciously hold your head a little higher.

"But I wasn't prepared for that. You make me feel things that I've never felt before, and I really didn't think I could afford to let myself have you. Not fully, anyway. I could deal with a crush; I told myself I could keep you close enough that I wouldn't miss you, but far enough that I could keep myself protected."

"What changed?" You ask, smoothing your hands over the small of her back, feeling the heat radiate from her skin. They've worked their way under the hem of her shirt during your conversation, subconsciously seeking to share her warmth, and Jisoo has been acutely aware of it the entire time.

"When I saw you walk away like that I didn't know what to do with myself. I've had people leave before, so it's not a new thing; but I never missed them like I've missed you."

A bittersweet, melancholic look settles on your face at that; she deserves every good thing that the world has to offer, so knowing that you played a part in her sadness -- whether it be direct or indirect -- disheartens you a bit.

"But you're here now, and that's all that matters." She says, leaning her forehead against yours.

"And I'm not going anywhere," you affirm, holding her even closer than before. She brushes her nose against yours with a quiet sigh, relieved to be in your arms, caught safely in your warm embrace. If falling feels like this, she's more than okay with it.

"Can I?" You ask, glancing down to the heart shaped pillows you've dreamt of having against yours again.

She nods, uttering a soft, "Please", as she tilts her head to the side in expectancy. You close the remaining distance, bending your knees slightly to tighten your hold on her waist and pull her flush up against yourself. Both of her arms wrap around your neck now, occasionally coming down to tilt your head and allow her better access, or run her fingers through your hair. It's sensual and meaningful, but an air of urgency hangs in the air, thickening it the longer her lips are on you. Both of you are making up for lost time, so it's no wonder you're so eager.

She takes your bottom lip between her teeth as she backs you up, pressing you against the brick wall that you had migrated a few steps away from during your conversation. If she were kissing anyone else, perhaps she'd care about the strangers staring, or what they might say; but as she stands here, feeling your hands explore her body in the ways that she's dreamed of and your lips kiss her senseless, that's the furthest thought from her mind. Her hands grab at the collar of your shirt, balling the material up in her palms as she pushes her lips against yours from a new angle.

When you eventually pull back for air, you can't help but say the phrase that's been sitting on your mind for weeks. "I love you."

Her heart speeds up to match yours, both of them racing as you look at each other with giant smiles on your faces. "I love you, too. If you hadn't already guessed that," she chuckles, leaning up to kiss you again. This one's more innocent, though -- full of giddiness as you replay each other's declaration in your minds.

"Y/N L/N IF YOU AREN'T OUT HERE--"

Yuqi bellows loudly, blasting through the side door and out into the chilly night air. The metal smacks against the wall from the force she exerted, and you physically cringe at the sound. Jisoo does the same, quickly pulling away to find out what's going on.

When Yuqi's line of sight settles on the two of you, her eyebrows raise and a smirk lands on her lips. "Well, well, well. Looks like my work here is done," she says, cocking her head to the side self-assuredly when she sees how swollen both of your lips are and how mussed your clothing is. You send her a look that she registers as "Get lost", and she retreats back into the performance hall with her hands raised in surrender.

"Idiot," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head as you watch the door close behind her, its poor hinges still recovering from her assault. Jisoo's giggle makes you turn back to her, finding a breathtaking smile forming on her lips. "You're so cute," she coos, poking your cheek, "especially when you blush like that."

You fight the bashfulness that attempts to take over, managing to cock a brow at her and say, "Hey, watch it -- I might not be so kind in my next poem if you don't stop teasing me."

"Aww, don't be like that, baby."

She tenses up after realizing she let that pet name slip out at the end, but your smile only widens.

"Say that again."

"Baby," she drawls in her signature sultry tone, stepping closer to you again.

"Mmm, I could get used to that." You hum against her lips, pressing yours to them at the end of your statement.

"Good, because there's more where that came from."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," she settles into your arms again, looking into your eyes with so much love you nearly swoon. "This is only the beginning for us."

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tetsurouskuro · 4 years

Text

The Equipment Room

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem!reader

warnings: college!au, smut, swearing, daddy kink

word count: 3,014

a/n: i followed the stream and started watching haikyuu!! and here i am, writing kink for yet another fandom asdfghjkl! i’m not happy with this but i hope you’ll enjoy it! <3

Kuroo loved volleyball. He loved the feeling of adrenaline pumping through his veins as he played. The way he saved the ball or when he scored a point. He loved the way he felt when his team was winning. During his time at Nekoma he had learned a lot. Teamplaying, spikes, receives, faint attacks. When he was made captain of the Nekoma volleyball team he was honored. Of course his reaction to it was too be cocky. “Of course I became captain,” he had said with a smirk on his face. He was glad that he had Kenma with him and he couldn't have asked for a better setter.

But he also loved you. God, how he loved you. He was such a loser for you, but only you knew that. When you started your first year at Nekoma High School you'd never thought that you'd become manager for the boys volleyball team. There you'd learned how much a sport could put different people together, but also how noisy the boys there were; especially the captain of the team.

When Kuroo Tetsurou, the captain of the boys volleyball team started to flirt with you and give you compliments, you only brushed him off. “He's a fuckboy,” you'd thought. But when you started becoming warm with being manager and saw how he encouraged his teammates, lifting their spirits when they felt down and soon you fell in love with the “Scheming Captain” and started dating him.

He got on your nerves. His teasing was both funny and irritating. But one thing was for sure, the sex was beyond amazing. He would tease you during practice. When he knew you were horny and wanted him, he would use his shirt to wipe off his sweat instead of his towel. You'd watch him do it, seeing his abs. Your eyes would travel to his v-line and you would bite your lip. Imagining your lips around the crown of his cock. You'd squeeze your thighs together, but it would only make it worse. Kuroo knew what he was doing and you hated him, until he made you cum.

Now, Kuroo was in college and you were still stuck in high school, without him. Kuroo would come by Nekoma so he could see how his old teammates were doing and when his old squad wasn't watching he would kiss you; make out even.

Kuroo joined his college's volleyball team as soon as he had the chance and to his surprise Bokuto had chosen the same school. So here they were, in the school's gym and practicing together, Bokuto helping Kuroo with his receives.

“So, how's (y/n)?”

“Good.”

“Uh-oh, that doesn't sound good. You two had a fight?” Kuroo sighed and stood up straight. Bokuto held the ball in his hands and watched his friends face.

“No. It's just that these exams are killing me and I haven't seen her in a week. It's so frustrating since I saw her everyday in high school.”

“A week, huh. That's so sad.”

“Shut up, owl head.” The boys started laughing and suddenly the door to the gym opened and in walked... you.

“Ooooooh, it's (y/n)-chan,” Bokuto screamed out and sprinted towards you.

“Hi, Bokuto-san,” you answered back as you were tangled in a big hug by the grey and black haired boy.

“What are you doing here? Missed Tetsu?” he asked while batting his eyelashed at you. “Oi!” He then said as Bokuto felt a ball hit the back of his head.

“Sorry, the ball must've hit my hand wrong,” Kuroo answered with a smirk on his face.

“I leave you two lovebirds alone.” Bokuto said and exited the gym while rubbing his head. Kuroo could only laugh at him as you walked up to him.

“Was that really necessary?”

“Of course. The owl needs to know his place.”

“Tetsu, you don't have to call him that anymore. You're not in high school anymore and besides, you're both on the same team now.”

“He'll always be an owl to me,” you could only roll your eyes at his response. “Why are you here kitten?”

“Oh, right,” you said and started to fumble with your bag, clearly looking for something. “Here.” You handed him a bento box. “I talked with your mom and she said that you forgot to bring your dinner to practice so I thought I'd surprise you.”

“Well, I am surprised,” he took the bento box and pulled you into his embraced and kissed you. “I've missed you.”

“I've missed you too, Tetsu.” His lips were back on yours again. You opened your mouth and let his tongue inside your mouth. Your tongues both dancing with each other. “Tetsu-”

“Come with me.” He grabbed your hand, his hand intertwined with yours as he pulled you behind him and into the equipment room. Letting you go so he could close the sliding doors.

“Tetsu, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I'm doing?” He answered, his gaze locked on you. A smirk plastered on his face.

“Tetsurou, stop. What if someone comes in?”

“Well, then you have to be quiet baby girl, can you do that for daddy?” God. This killed you. You were both scared and hella excited. The two of you haven't seen each other in a week so the sexual tension was sure to be high. You just didn't expect it to happen here.

The both of you had a daddy kink. You had somehow during intercourse moaned out daddy and if Kuroo didn't know know he could get any harder; he did now. Ever since then he had also started calling you “baby girl” when you were alone. It was only a nickname meant for you when the both of you were alone in the bedroom or wherever he chose to take you.

Kuroo placed the bento box you had given him on a shelf near the door while still having eye contact with you. His gaze never left even when he walked towards you. Now, in front of you stood a tall 6'2 man who you adored. Loved.

“Kuroo I don't think-”

“You don't have to think. Just feel,” god, it was hopeless arguing with the man but you didn't want to do it there because soon his teammates were gonna be on the outside, even though the thought excited you.

His hand touched your chin, lifting it up so you could look at him. He then bent down and kissed you, his tongue invading your mouth. His hands on your hips pulled you even closer to him so you could feel his bulge poking you through his shorts.

“Baby girl, I'm so hard for you,” Kuroo speaks as his lips travel to your neck. You tilt your head to the side to make it easier for him. You want him to stop, but also you didn't.

Kuroo turns your body 180 degrees so your back is pressed against your front, his hard on poking at your lower back. He starts to grind his pelvis against your ass, making his already hard cock grow even bigger. You moan out softly because god, do you want him.

“Hmm? What was that?” He asks as his hands that were on your hips starts to slowly caress your ass, squeezing each butt cheek and then slapping your right one. “You like that, baby girl?”

“Yes, daddy.” His left hand squeezes your left breast as his right starts to unbutton those skin tight jeans you chose to wear. Not that Kuroo didn't mind, quite the opposite; he loved them. The way they made that sweet ass of yours look tight and “smackable” as Kuroo had said eveytime you had them on, but now when he wanted them off of you, he hated them.

Once Kuroo managed to unbutton your pants he drags them with both of his hands down your legs, your panties following suit and pushes your back slightly forward so you have no choice but to grab hold onto the plinth that's in front of you.

“Kuroo, what if someone-” slap! A hand against your ass making you flinch and moan at the same time.

“It's daddy for you baby girl and don't worry. No one will come in here.” His left arm slowly caresses its way up until he reaches your front and drags your bra upwards, making your tits spring free. He starts to work his fingers on your sensitive nipple, making you moan out at the sensation.

Suddenly, his fingers are rubbing your slit, lubricating you all over. You hadn't noticed you'd even gotten this wet.

“Does this excite you, baby girl? The fact that anyone from my team can come in and hear you? See you?” His fingers continue to rub your heat, teasing you.

“Daddy, please.”

“Please what, baby girl?”

“Please-” he thrusts two fingers into your cunt, taking you by surprise. Your walls cramping around his fingers. Your hands grip the plinth harder and you try to suppress your moans, but in vain. You let a few slip out at the sensation. The way his fingers thrust into your tight heat and his other hand playing with your erect nipple makes everything feel so good.

Suddenly, voices could be heard from the outside, making you go stiff but Kuroo's fingers didn't stop. They kept going in and out of you, thrusting so pleasurably that you can't help but moan out, his name falling for your lips.

“If you don't keep it down we'll get busted and you don't want that right, baby girl.” The hand the had on your breast leaves only to be placed on your abdomen and travel down to your sensetive bud and start doing small motions.

“F-ffuuck,” a loud moan slips out from your mouth. His fingers curling upwards inside your cunt, hitting your g spot perfectly.

“Do you want them to hear us? Is that it baby girl?” His voice rough aganist your ear. His lips leaving a trail of kisses on the side of your neck.

“No, daddy.” The building sensation you recognize so often, every time you're with Kuroo in fact. “I'm close. God, I'm so close.”

“Yeah?” and he withdraws his fingers from your cunt. The empty feeling of missing his figers inside you has you a whimpering mess.

“Turn around.” Turning around to face him you see that he has pulled down his shorts and breifs. His shirt on the floor beside your feet.

“On your knees and show daddy what a good girl you are and suck my cock.” His right hand is fisting his length and slowly jerking it up and down. A pool of pre cum can be seen on the crown of his cock.

Getting on your knees on the floor you start to grab his cock with your hand but his hand stops yours before you can even grab it.

“No hands, baby girl.” Instead you look up at him, both of your gaze locking onto each other as you slowly open your mouth. His left hand grabs your chin, his thumb on your lip as he slowly psuhes his cock inside your mouth. Your lips close around the head of his cock, the taste of his pre cum slowly filling your taste buds.

“Fuck yes, baby girl.” He groans out and you pull him deeper inside inside your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat. Kuroo lets out a soft groan and grabs a hold of your hair. You then start to bob your head up and down his length, taking him as far as you can.

“Just like that. Fuck, yes. You suck me so good, baby girl.” You keep on bobbing your head, going in an even space as you take him in. His cock keps on twitching every now and then. His hand on your hair keeps getting tighter and soon enough he pulls you away with your hair. Both of his arms grabs you under your armpits and pulls you up, all of your weight and sets your ass on the plinth. The head of his cock rubs your slit, lubricating your labia.

“Tetsu. Kuroo. Daddy. Please.”

“Please what baby girl? Tell me what you want?”

“I want you.”

“No. Tell me what you really want.”

“I want your cock. Please daddy.”

“Of course baby girl,” and he slowly thrusts his cock inside your cunt. Out. In. Out. In. Giving you no time to get used to his size. His size always impressed you. The feeling of his cock stretching your walls, feeling all of his 9 inches inside you.

Throwing your arms around his shoulders you pull him close to you, only for you to bite down on his shoulder to suppress your moans. His own hands on your hips, keeping them in place as he fucks you.

While Kuroo keps on thrusting into you, the voices outside kept getting louder and louder. Balls hitting the floor. Laughter could be heard every now and then. You were scared. You didn't want anyone to find you but you didn't want Kuroo to stop. That would be stupid because his cock kept hitting your g spot and god how you wanted to cum. You felt that familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach building up faster and faster.

“You want to cum, baby girl? You want to cum on my cock huh?” Even without looking at him you could tell that he had a cocky smirk on his face. You could only whimper as a respons to his question. Your wettness was making it easy for him to work you up, the sensation that you're very familiar with returning to you as your teeth bite into his shoulder harder.

“C-close,” you mumble out onto his shoulder, your teeth dug deep into his flesh.

“Cum. I want you to cum, (y/n). I want you to cum all over my cock. Cum all over daddy's cock, baby girl.”

“T-Tetsurou!” Letting go, you cum all over his cock. Your juices covering all of him, making it even easier for him to slide in and out of you. Squelching sounds could be heard as he kept on fucking you.

“The way you tighten around my cock when you cum is fucking amazing,” Kuroo states as his hips keep on pouncing into yours, him nearing his own release. Whenever he's close, his thrusts become sloppier and he wants to cum so badly. He wants to fill up your cunt with his seed.

“I'm gonna fill that cunt of yours with my all my cum, baby girl.”

“Daddy. Please. Fill me.”

“Fuuuck... (y/n)!” His hips stills as his cock jerks inside of you. His legs trembling at his release. Your own legs trembling still after you had your own release a couple of minutes ago. His hands move from your hips to your thighs, holding them for you.

You pull your head away from his shoulder, seeing the bite mark on his shoulder. The redness around it makes you worry. Looking up at him, you're ready to apologize but he reads your expression and knows exactly what you're thinking.

“Don't. I like it. It'll remind me of you at practise later,” a smug smile on his face.

“I can't believe you just did that, Tetsu...”

“Hmm, well I liked it, didn't you?”

“What... I... O-Of course I did,” a blush appearing on your face.

“Thought so.” Kuroo pulls away from you, your soggy heat missing the feeling of him.

“Oh and babe? Don't shower when you get home. I'm not finished with you yet.” He winks at you and you can only blush even more, pressing your thighs together trying to stop the tingling feeling between your legs.

Kuroo pulls on his breifs and shorts and throws on the t-shirt that he discarded earlier. You're busy yourself trying to pull on your own clothes. You can feel his semen slowly coming out of you making you feel embarrassed and horny at the same time.

“Where's Kuroo? We're supposed to be go jogging now”

“Well (y/n) came by earlier, maybe he walked her to the parking lot. Let's go and see if he's there.” The voices faded away from you and Kuroo and the feeling of breathing normally returned to you.

“Looks like the coast is clear.” His voice speaks softly at you.

“I can't believe you Tetsu... someone could've walked in on us you know.” You had your arms crossed over your chest, a sour pout on your lips as you tried to look pissed at him.

“Yes. I know. That's what makes is so exciting with public sex. The feeling of someone could bust us but at the same time thrilling.” He only smiled at you while placing his hands on his hips.

Walking up to him you sighed at him. You loved this man so much, but sometimes he could test your patience and you wonder how you let him do these things to you. Not that you really mind.

“Well. I need to go and you need to jog.” You placed your palms on his chest and his arms went around your shoulders.

“Not that I need it. I've already had my warm up,” rolling your eyes at his comment you act as is he just hadn't said it.

“See you later?”

“Yes. I'm not done with fucking your brains out kitten.”

“KUROO!”

“What? It's true,” laughing at you, the way he closes his eyes and his teeth warming smile you could only smile back, cause you wouldn't want it any other way with Kuroo Tetsurou.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyu x reader #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #tetsurou x reader #kuroo smut #nekoma #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou smut

2K notes · View notes

just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Out Of Time ~ 112

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,900ish

Summary: Captain America: Civil War --- tread carefully.

Steve landed the quinjet as Bucky and Y/N grabbed weapons.

“You shouldn’t come in with us,” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Too bad,” Y/N responded, slipping guns into the holster of her suit, that was thankfully in the quinjet. “I’m coming.”

Bucky sighed before looking up at Y/N. “I’m not the same man you knew.”

“I’m not the same woman. But…” Y/N stepped forward, took Bucky’s metal hand, and held it to her chest. “You’re still my Bucky.”

Bucky studied her eyes for a second before swiftly putting his free hand on the back of her head and pulling her in to meet his lips. She was shocked, not kissing back for a few, before remembering how much she loved the feeling of his lips on hers. He was the one to end the kiss, stepping away and breaking all physical contact with her.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” Bucky apologized. “I’m not in the correct mindset.”

He quickly made his way over to the back of the quinjet, waiting for the ramp to lower. Y/N joined him before Steve left the pilot’s chair and stood in the middle of them as the ramp lowered.

“You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?” Steve asked.

“Was that the time we used our train money to buy hot dogs?” Bucky questioned.

“Yes,” Y/N answered, with a reminiscent smile.

“You blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead,” Steve continued.

“What was her name again?” Bucky asked.

“Dolores,” Y/N responded. “You called her Dot.”

“She’s gotta be a hundred years old right now.”

“So are we, pal,” Steve said, clamping his hand on Bucky’s shoulders.

The three of them looked at each other before Steve slipped his helmet on and they exited the quinjet. It was cold, the wind blowing harshly as snow covered the ground. Bucky led them to the entrance, set in rock. The door was open.

“He can’t have been here more than a few hours,” Steve said as they stared at the door.

“Long enough to wake them up,” Bucky said. Both men looked over to Y/N.

“Last chance. I really wish—“

“Save it Steve. You know I’m not leaving,” Y/N retorted.

Both men sighed. “Then no powers unless it’s absolutely necessary. I don’t need you throwing up in the middle of a fight.”

Y/N gave a small nod before Steve led them in, her in the middle and Bucky tailing. They entered a small elevator. She watched as the men nodded at each other while the elevator went down. Once it rattled to a stop, the men heaved up the doors. Steve held up his shield as the other two held up their guns, walking along a corridor, keeping close to a wall.

The trio headed up a flight of stairs, Bucky leading, Y/N in the middle, and Steve at the end, when they heard a noise from behind them. They swiftly spun around, aiming down the corridor. Still keeping his gun up, Bucky gently pushed Y/N down so that she was more hidden.

“You ready?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Bucky responded.

The three held their positions as the creaking of the doors at the end of the corridor continued. The double doors part, forced open by Iron Man. Both Steve and Y/N stared in surprise. Tony walked towards them, retracting the suits helmet.

“You seem a little defensive,” Tony commented.

Steve got up and walked towards Tony, keeping his shield up. Tony eyed Y/N who was slowly following.

“It’s been a long day,” Steve replied.

“At ease, Soldier,” Tony said. “I’m not currently after you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Could be your story’s not so crazy. Maybe. My girl friend also wasn’t at the place that I left her. Figured she was with you.”

“Tony—“

“Ross has no idea I’m here,” Tony cut Y/N off to continue. He lended his shoulder against a large cement post. “I’d like to keep it that way. Otherwise, I gotta arrest myself.”

“Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork,” Steve said, lowing his shield. It’s good to see you, Tony.”

“You too, Cap. Hey, Manchurian Candidate, you're killing me. There's a truce here. You can drop.”

Steve signals Bucky to lower his weapon, in which he does. Y/N walked up to Tony, hesitantly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Nat called and warned me. I had to come help.”

Tony stared at her, studying her carefully for a moment. He had a feeling for a few days now that something was up, something besides the Accords. He just couldn’t figure out what.

“I’m sorry too,” he said quietly, pulling her into his arms. He held a kiss to her head. Bucky tensed at the gesture, which Tony noticed. “Alright, let’s go.”

Tony put his helmet back over his face and the four of them cautiously walked further into the bunker. The three men were positioned so that Y/N was in the middle of them. Iron Man was leading the way towards an enormous chamber with capsules standing in it.

“I got heat signatures,” Tony stated.

“How many?” Steve asked.

Tony paused before answering, “Uh, one.”

As the entered the chamber, the lights turned on. A hazy, yellow mist descended within the capsules around the room. Each capsule contained a soldier. They all looked around, bewildered.

“If it’s any comfort,” Helmut Zemo’s voice came over a speaker, “they died in their sleep.”

They all walked around, staring at the soldiers that had each been shot in the head.

“Do you really think I wanted more of you?” Zemo continued.

“What the hell?” Bucky muttered.

“I'm grateful to them, though. They brought you here.”

Zemo appeared in the control room, through a small window. Tony lifted up his hand as Steve threw his shield, but it bounced back.

“Please, Captain,” Zemo taunted. “The The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets.”

“I’m betting I could beat that,” Tony retorted. The four of them rounded the center consul so that they could be closer to Zemo.

“Oh, I'm sure you could, Mr. Stark. Given time. But then you'd never know why you came.”

“You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?” Steve questioned. Staring Zemo straight on.

“I thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you. I followed you. But now that you're standing here, I just realized . . . there's a bit of green in the blue of your eyes. How nice to find a flaw.”

“You're Sokovian,” Y/N stated, coming closer. “Is that what this is about?”

“Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. No. I'm here because I made a promise.”

“You lost someone?” Steve wondered.

Zemo, looking grave, clicked his tongue. "I lost everyone. And so will you.” A screen suddenly turned on, bringing everyone’s attentions to it. “An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumples from within? That's dead . . . forever.”

They all moved over and looked at the screen. The frozen frame of a secluded road and the date, December 16, 1991. Tony’s face helmet disappeared, his eyes briefly met Y/n’s before flickering back to the screen that began to play.

“I know that road,” Tony stated, anxiously. “What is this?”

All eyes were now on the screen. A car came into the frame, crashing into a tree. Y/N watched as someone road up on a motor cycle and got off. The Winter Soldier. Steve watched Tony’s increasing unease. The driver got out of the car, crawling on the ground.

“Howard,” Y/N gasped quietly, eyes brimming with tears.

“Help me wife,” Howard begged on the video. “Please. Help.” The Winter Soldier walked over and hoisted him up by his hair. “Sergeant Barnes?”

“Howard!” Maria called.

Tony looked up and glared at Bucky, before his eyes found their way back to the screen. Y/N was unable to take her eyes off the screen, her heart began racing. On the screen, the Winter Soldier lifted his metal fist.

“Wait!” Howard begged, hand digging into his suit coat. “You don’t want to do this, Barnes. Look.” Howard pulled out the photo of him and Y/N dancing. “We knew each other… You know her… Remember.”

Y/N heart clenched as a sob torn through her. Her hand came up to her mouth, trying to keep it quiet.

“Please don’t,” Howard continued. “Remember Y/N at least.”

After a brief glance at the photo, the Winter Soldier punched Howard over and over.

“Howard!” Maria called again.

Howard slumped over, dead. The Winter Soldier put him in the driver’s seat, face against the steering wheel. He walked around the the passenger side, where Maria was located. The Soldier reached in and gripped her throat, expressionless as he strangled Maria. The Winter Soldier then walked up and aimed a gun at the surveillance camera, ending the feed.

Y/N’s heart was beating rapidly. It was the only thing she could hear. Her breathing was becoming increasingly unsteady. Losing her balance, she backed up into the wall and slid down it. Steve kept his eyes on Tony, who lunged towards Bucky.

“Tony, Tony,” Steve said, stopping him.

Tony looked at Steve, clearly consumed with grief and tears glistening in his eyes. “Did you know?” Tony asked, trying to control his emotions.

“I didn’t know it was him.”

“Don't bullshit me, Rogers! Did you know?”

“Yes.”

Tony stepped back, chin jutting up in a twitch. Looking over at Y/N, he sees her struggling with this as well, making him realize that she didn’t know either. Tony reengaged his helmet. He punched Steve to the floor and deflected gunfire from Bucky, disarming him. Grabbing Bucky, he flew across the chamber, slamming Bucky onto the floor. Tony pinned Bucky’s arms down but was unable to fire because Steve threw his shield at him.

Steve barged Tony backwards. Tony then shouldered Steve to the floor, shackling his ankles. Bucky came back up and punched Tony, who just listed him and slammed him against a machine. Tony raised a fist, but Bucky twisted it. A rocket shot out from the Iron Man suit, a fireball exploding. Steve sliced his shackles as a towering structure of pipework collapsed.

Barely registering what was happening around her, Y/N was quickly thrown back into her senses, as pieces of metal began to fall around her, boxing her into the corner.

“Ah!” She screamed.

Bucky and Tony were thrown to the ground by the metal, not hearing her screams. Steve though, did.

“No,” he whispered. Steve and Bucky stood up, making eye contact. “Find Y/N and get out of here!”

Bucky nodded. He quickly found her, throwing the metal to the side.

“I’ve got you, Y/N/N,” Bucky said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/N shaking in his hold as Bucky rushed towards the wall with the lowest platform. He hit a control panel, opening the over head roof. Tony shot at them, thankfully missing, before Steve landed in front of him.

“It wasn’t him, Tony,” Steve stated. “HYDRA had control of his mind!”

“Move!” Tony ordered, hovering. He began to fly over Steve.

“It wasn’t him!”

Steve grabbed onto Tony’s ankle in mid air, smashing the bottom of the boot. They fought while Bucky was trying his best to make his way up the platforms with an almost unresponsive Y/N in his arms. He began to notice that the trembling was increasing and that she was sweating everywhere.

Tony unsteadily soared upwards as Bucky jumped across to another platform, Y/n still in his arms. Tony kicked Bucky down, causing him to let go of Y/n, who rolled away. Tony then took aim but Steve quickly jumped in front of Bucky, using his shield to rebound the energy back to Tony. He dropped, landing on a lowering platform.

“He’s not going to stop,” Steve stated, helping Bucky up. “Go.”

“Steve, it’s too dangerous for me to take Y/N,” Bucky worried. “Look.”

Steve looked over to see Y/N shaking, with sweat dripping down her forehead.

“I’ve got her,” Steve stated. “Go.”

Bucky ran and Steve leaped over and shot a wire around Tony’s neck, dragging him down. Tony deflected Steve’s shield, before trying to target Bucky.

“Come on, come on,” Tony muttered.

“Targeting system’s knackered, boss,” FRIDAY warned.

“I’m eyeballing it.”

Tony’s helmet retracted and he shut one eye, taking aim at the opening hatch. He fired, hitting the giant hinge and cutting off Bucky’s escape route. Tony then flew up, blocking two swings from an iron pipe Bucky was trying to use. Tony grabbed Bucky around the neck from behind.

“Do you even remember them?” Tony asked.

“I remember all of them,” Bucky replied.

Bucky pushed them both of the walkway. Steve jumped into them to deflect their fall. Bucky landed on a platform while Tony and Steve landed on the concrete floor besides an opening in the wall where snow drifts in. Finally hearing more of the commotion, Y/N pushed herself up, looking over the side.

“No,” she panted.

The three men she loved most in the world where fighting each other and she had no strength to stop them. She winced as she felt a cramp in her lower abdomen.

“No, no, no,” she whispered frantically.

Pushing herself up, she shakily jumped down from platform to platform as the men still fought.

“This isn’t gonna change what happened,” Steve said to Tony.

“I don’t care,” Tony replied. “He killed my mom.”

The two began going at each other, with Bucky shown joining in. Y/N got down to their level as Bucky was blasted away from Tony, his metal arm blowing off. Tony zapped him again, throwing him to the side. Y/N rushed as quick as she could over to him.

“B-bucky,” she called, collapsing beside him. “Bucky, please…”

Bucky coughed up some blood. “Go,” he groaned. “You have to get out of here.”

“But you’re all killing each other.”

“And you shouldn’t have to see that… go… please…. I love you.”

“Bucky, I—“

“Go.”

With an unsteady inhale and a nod, Y/N opened a portal to the quinjet. She knew she couldn’t get much further than that. Closing it, she fell onto the ground. She had no more energy to move but her body still forced her to vomit. Y/N couldn’t focus on anything around her, black spots filling her vision. With one more heave, she blacked out.

~~~

Tony and Steve were both panting as Steve ripped the shield out of Tony’s suit and helped Bucky up. They began to walk away, leaving Tony on the ground.

“That shield doesn’t belong to you,” Tony said. “My father made that shield!”

Pausing, Steve raised his chin before dropping the shield. He walked around, with Bucky’s arm around his shoulder, leaving Tony to stare at the shield. Panting, he watched it until something suddenly hit him.

“Y/N,” he gasped. “No.” He pushed himself up. “Y/N!”

He called her name as she walked around, searching for her. Tony feared ash something terrible had happened to her or that she had gone with Steve and Bucky. He eventually, after almost an hour, gave up the search and headed out of the bunker. Tony was thankful to still see a quinjet here. As he entered the jet, he saw a body laying in the middle of it.

“Y/N… Baby?”

Tony slowly limped over to her. As he drew closer, he noticed the blood seeping from somewhere in between her legs. He rushed to kneel next to her.

“Honey,” he tried to be gentle but firm as he turned her over from the vomit she was in and patted her cheek. “Y/N, please.”

But nothing. He quickly moved to find where the blood was coming from. There was no gash, no wound. As he ran through all the possible things, Tony’s mind came to one solution.

“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no.”

He hurried and got the quinjet into the air and set for the compound before getting out of his battle torn suit. Tony then took Y/N into his arms, rocking her as he begged for her to wake.

“I can’t lose more than I already have… I’m so sorry…”

Dr. Cho was already there waiting for the quinjet when they landed back at the compound. Her and her people rushed Y/N away from Tony. He watched helplessly, falling onto his knees as tears trailed down his cheeks. And he did the one thing he’d never done before in his life. Tony Stark prayed.

“Please God… don’t take them from me… I’ll be better, work harder… I’ll do anything. I’ll give anything. Including my own life… Just don’t take them from me. I’m begging you… I-I-I didn’t even know… I didn’t even know…”

next chapter >

I’ll see you guys after Disney World! I’ll still be responding to asks and comments!

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #tony stark x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #iron man x reader #captain america civil war #civil war #captain america x reader #the winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x reader #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #tony stark imagine #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes imagine

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sasuhinasno1fan · 3 years

Text

The way you had your hair reminds me- Zutara Week Day 1

My second Zutara Week though I hope I can actually finish it this time. I decided I really wanted to do something with Katara doing rhythmic gymnastics so I decided that since most of the prompts fit, I’ll do a sort of Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo AU. It’s a good kdrama if you’ve never heard of it. trying to fit 16 hour long episodes into 7 days is gonna be interesting. I’ll warn you now and let you know there will be onesided LuTara but for like a day maybe. I haven’t written that day yet so we’ll see. This will end in Zutara happieness, I promise. Anyway, enjoy. Hair

Zuko crawled carefully as he wiped down the windows. Most of his classmates didn’t want him anywhere near an open area, especially with his limited vision but he’d just gotten his bandaged taken off and he wasn’t about to let it hinder him.

Without them on, he didn’t see Mom flinch at the sight of them, though the massive burn wasn’t any better. The fights between his parents weren’t either and Azula’s teasing was starting to be hurtful more than playful. He wanted it all to stop. If he pretended that things were ok, maybe they would be eventually.

“Hey scarface!” Zuko looked over, 3 of his school bullies storming over. He tried not to flinch, already knowing what they were going to yell at him about. They’d been doing it all day. “We lost the race thanks to you!”

Zuko used to be more confident. But after the burns, a few harsh words and he’d start retreating back down into himself. These bullies took advantage of it. During their Sports Day yesterday, Zuko had dropped the baton in the relay race and ran in the opposite direction, away from the bullies yelling at him.

“Mr. Reversal, can’t believe you’re so stupid.”

“You need a walking stick, scarface? Huh?”

Zuko felt one of them shove him and he expected to hit the window frame. Instead, he went flying out the open window. Years later, Zuko would mostly remember him being caught by an older man with darker skin, most likely from one of the Water Tribes, with kind blue eyes, who held him as he burst into tears and two younger children. The boy patted his back, telling him not to worry because his sister would take care of it and the girl screaming up at the bullies from the ground floor. Her long braid swung back and forth as she shook her fists and threatened to do violent things to them. her eyes seemed bluer than her families, like the clearest ocean.

He didn’t know they’d slip back into his life years later. That the little girl who threatened bullies for a boy she didn’t know, would become so much more important to him.

________________

Zuko unlocked his bike, trying not to feel discouraged. It was hard not to when he’d been disqualified from another competition for having a panic attack. Every time he walked onto the mat, his hearing would go wonky and he’d start seeing double, not to mention his heart beating like it was trying to escape his chest. As a result, he’d always forget to sault his opponent and the referee.

Along with being propositioned to train an up-and-coming fencer to get onto the national Olympic team – which he refused because how was he supposed to help someone when he could even finish a match – all he wanted to do was collapse onto his bed. He could already tell that during training tomorrow, he’d have to deal with snide remarks from Jett. How that guy became captain, he’d never know. He knew if he just beat him in training like always, it would piss him off even more and with the school’s Sports Day coming up, he was not in the mood to do the worst event for the Fencing Department.

He climbed on his bike, adjusting his kit sitting on its place but stopping himself from peddling back to campus when his phone rang.

“What Sokka?”

“So, the results of the match went up. Jett wants to talk to you; says he’s got the prefect thing for you to do to make up for your loss. The rice lifting challenge.”

Zuko had to bite his lip to keep from screaming. The idea of the lifting challenge was to carry as many bags of rice and the industrial size, like the one the school cafeteria ordered and hold it for as long as possible. Usually, the Karate Department would be the one to win, fencing never even coming close.

“I’m not going.” Zuko said, making up his mind.

“What?”

“I’ll hang out at Lu Ten’s office or something, but I’m not going. Not to the crapshot of a meeting or to Sports Day. I don’t care what he threatens me with. I’m only coming back to drop my kit off.”

“Um, well I actually heard Mai was back. Didn’t make it past the preliminaries for the national team I hear.”

This day couldn’t get any worse.

“Screw it, I’m not coming back for the next few days. I’ll be with my uncle if you need me.”

“Wait! Ask Toph to do your event for you. it would put the Weightlifting Department in danger of losing but most of those guys don’t like her anyway. She’d love a chance to get back at them. come back to campus and ask her and then I’ll take you out for lunch. At my dad’s restaurant. You love his marinated salmon.” Sokka said, trying to entice his roommate.

Zuko sighed. “I want two orders. And you’re paying.”

“Done! Get here soon.”

Zuko didn’t bother answering, stowing his phone away and pushing off, heading towards Republic City Sports University.

______________________

Effortlessly, Katara grabbed her back leg and straightened it as she did her pivot. She kept her balance as she came out of it and continued to twirl her ribbon. Her coach nodded.

“Very good. You’ve been practising. Your balance is better. Now I want to see if your fouettés have improved as well. If you want a chance at placing first and getting noticed by our sponsor and qualifying for the national team preliminaries, your routine can’t have any mistakes. Ty Lee, pay attention. I’m testing your fouettés as well.”

Katara looked over at the girl dressed in pink, who was pouting down at her matching hoop, Suki patting her on the shoulder. While Katara and Ty Lee weren’t friends, it was hard to not bond over being singled out by their coach.

Katara stood at the ready, twirling her ribbon as she readied herself when the door burst open.

“Azula!” Ty Lee cried.

Azula Lung was the student with the most sway in the whole school. Her father was the Prime Minister of the Fire Nation and while he didn’t hold much power in Republic City, since all powers were equal, that didn’t mean much at the University. She got the best room, private transport to competitions and rules didn’t apply to her. She could boss around any coach, even though she was in the Karate Department. There’d been rumours that her place was bought, until her first competition where she creamed everyone. She was her department’s ace. In fact, she managed to take the Weightlifting Department’s old gym for the Karate Department, which started a massive feud between them. she was rude and arrogant and somehow, one of Ty Lee’s best friends.

Katara noticed a girl standing next to her. She was dressed in all black, the only colour being the red of her nails. She looked incredibly bored and only looked annoyed when Ty Lee launched herself at her.

“Mai, you’re back!”

“Mai has returned from her qualifying competition for the national team. We’ll be taking Ty Lee with us. Problem?” Azula announced.

“No of course not. Except, Ty Lee, you were supposed to show me your routine for Sports Day? Since you’re our department’s cheerleader.”

Azula scoffed. “Sports Day, waste of time. She won’t be attending. You, blue peasant.” Katara balked at that and narrowed her eyes. “You’ll be taking her place. Problem?”

Katara opened her mouth to say, yes big problem, but all the girls of the Rhythmic Gymnastics Department crowded around her, suffocating her with their hands.

“None at all.”

“Thanks Katara!” Ty Lee said, scooping up her bag and dashing off, Mai following and with a raised eyebrow that spoke of her superiority, Azula leaving as well.

“You can’t argue with her Katara.”

“She’d have you removed from the school. I heard she got a person’s whole family business shut down for pissing her off. Do you want that for your dad?”

“Her dad might be the Prime Minister, but he’s practically a mafia boss.”

Comments like this floated over her head, as well as ones telling her they’d help with making a routine for Sports Day, which was in a few days. All Katara could think about was how completely unfair this all was.

And she let it out too once training was concluded for the day.

“It’s completely insane how she can just lord over them like that!” she said, harshly untangling her hair from its bun.

“Easy, you’re gonna rip your hair out.” Suki said, stopping her from tugging at it more and helping to pull half of it into a bun like she usually wore it.

“She’s a student. A sophomore at that. Where does she get off acting like she’s the greatest thing in the world? Just cause her dad is a Prime Minister? So is mine!”

“I thought Water Tribe issues fell under Yue’s dad’s jurisdiction?” Toph, a member of the Weightlifting Department asked, her hand holding on tightly to her guide dog’s harness. She was just as well known as Azula, due to the fact that she was blind but was still one of the highest climbing Weightlifting competitors at the school. She beat all the senior’s bests within her first month.

“Yeah, only because the South is smaller. That’s not the point! The point is, she does whatever she wants and doesn’t get in trouble for it and it extends to her friends too. I have a competition coming up soon and instead of working on my routines for that, I’m going to be learning choreo for a routine for one of the dumbest traditions of Sports Day.”

“Oh,” Toph said, a massively mischievous smile on her face, “well you won’t think it’s stupid when you hear what I heard. Wanna take a guess as to who’s the Fencing Department’s cheerleader?”

Katara looked over at Toph, who’s smile was growing maniacal. Usually that meant someone was going to get embarrassed as hell. It usually tended to be Sokka.

“Wouldn’t it be one of the girls?”

“Nope.” Toph shook her head, popping her p.

“Is it-?”

“Katara, watch out!”

A guy on his bike and panicked look as he turned the corner, thankfully started the veer off course at the sight of her. She still stumbled over her feet and fell to the floor, her hands pricking in pain as they were scratched. Thankfully though, her jacket took most of the damage. The guy on the other hand, had to shove his bike off his feet, rubbing at his shin.

She took in the pale skin, paler than Toph’s and dark hair surrounding his face. It didn’t stop her from noticing the large burn surrounding his right eye. she noticed that his school jacket was the same one Sokka wore, meaning he was in the Fencing Department.

“You should be more careful.” She meant for it to come out a bit nicer, but the anger from dealing with Azula slipped in.

clearly the guy didn’t enjoy being yelled at as he snapped back. “I didn’t see you.” he seemed to rethink his anger and continued in a calmer voice. “Are you ok?”

ok, now she felt bad about snapping at him. “I’m fine.”

“Oh, what up Sparky?” Toph asked, seeming to brighten as she figured out who almost crashed into them. her guide dog Badger, lead his owner over and with surprising accuracy, Toph punch the guy on the arm.

It was a little scary how well she could do that.

“Stop calling me that.”

“Hey, tell me. Seen his skirt yet? I know he doesn’t shave his legs so please tell me he’s going all out for this.”

The guy sighed. “Thought Sokka told you not to tell anyone.”

“Sokka? He’s the Fencing cheerleader? That’s why he’s been borrowing my hair pins? Those things are expensive.” Katara interrupted.

Toph burst into laughter, clearly enjoying herself while Suki looked thoughtful.

“So that’s why he asked for makeup advice. Suddenly Sports Day is looking a lot more fun.”

“Speaking of which, I’m going back to my room before Jett finds me to let me know my event. Oh, Toph wanna annoying your department?”

“Always.”

“Take my spot for the Rice Lifting event. I’ve dealt with way too much to even put up with Jett today.”

Katara furrowed her brow, wanting to say something about the fact this guy wasn’t going to participate but then she noticed Toph’s smile dropped a little and her punch was definitely softer the second time she hit him.

“Done deal Sparky. Tell your old man I’ll see him later.”

“So who was that?” Suki asked as the guy finally took off.

“Zuko Lung, not related to the royal brat. I go to his old man’s tea house sometimes. He’s Sokka’s roommate apparently.”

“Oh yeah, he’s a pretty good fencer from what I hear. Weird though, I haven’t seen his name in the announcement of students placing.” Suki said.

She had a point. Katara never remembered seeing anything either. She also found it a bit strange Sokka never dragged his roommate to meet the rest of them. there was something about Zuko though that seemed familiar. It was on the tip of her tongue but nothing came to mind. Oh well, for another day then.

“Hey, let’s go find Sokka. Maybe if we catch him off guard, we can get him to agree to let us wax his legs.”

__________________

“I hate you.” Sokka mumbled, hiking his cheerleading skirt up. Katara bit her lip to keep from laughing at the crop top he was in. apparently, he pissed off their department captain by telling him that Zuko wasn’t participating and Toph was taking his place, so his new uniform was worse than his last.

She tossed her braid behind her, trying not to think about how young she must have looked. She had her hair like this when she was younger since it was much easier to put it into a bun. Her own uniform was rather pink for her taste, but Ty Lee basically guilt tripped her into wearing it since it already been bought. She was still annoyed at this, even more so when she found out her new roommate was Mai. The dark and depressing girl was apparently in the Archery Department and Sokka, who’d been in that Department before transferring to fencing, said she was undefeated. Yet she didn’t get past the first round of preliminaries to get onto the national team.

“Hey Sokka!” Aang, a member of the Track and Field Department came bounding over, his own skirt floating around his legs. “Katara, you never told me how much fun a skirt can be. Took me a while to find boxers that weren’t too long but still.”

“I’m glad your having fun Aang. At least someone is.” She said, smirking at Sokka.

“You deal with 3 hours of having your hair ripped out and then come talk to me.” Sokka snapped. “Ugg, I’m gonna kill Zuko. This is all his fault.”

“Wow.” A familiar voice said. Zuko was in casual clothes, carrying a cooler. Next to him was a man, with a squarish face, the same gold eyes and dark hair as Zuko, though his hair was pulled back into a top knot. “See if I bring you anything ever again.”

“You know Jett will kill you if he sees you.”

“He can’t do anything. My uncle called to pull me out for the afternoon. This is work, we’re delivering ice tea for the Fencing and Track and Field Departments. Aang, next time, don’t put your order late at night.”

Aang looked embarrassed. “Sorry. You were already gone when I got back from training. I was going to order for the Rhythmic Gymnastics department, but I know how conscious your coach is about sugars and such.” He said, looking at Katara.

“It’s ok. I’m stealing one though, I deserve the extra sugar for being in this outfit.” She said, walking over to Zuko and opening the lid on the cooler. She noticed he was staring intently at her face.

“What elementary school did you go to?” he asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

“Did you go to Ba Sing Se Preparatory?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“You screamed at those bullies.”

Bullies? Wait. It hit her like a thunderbolt, why he looked so familiar. His burn was a bit more faded but she couldn’t believe he forgot him. He’d been pushed out the window by bullies and her dad, would come to drop off lunch for her and Sokka, managed to catch him before he hurt himself and she’d screamed at the bullies from the floor.

“Holy crap. That was you!” Sokka said, “you had like no hair then!”

“Sokka!” he’d disappeared from class for a few weeks and when he came back his hair was cut so far back that it made his bandages stick out more.

“Yours was in a braid then.”

She was confused for a moment when she realised, he was talking to her. Yesterday her hair had been out but now it was in the same style she had it in as a child.

She’d always wondered what happened to him when Zuko suddenly disappeared for good one day. She’d didn’t think she’d find out now.

#zutara week #zutara week 2021 #weightlifting fairy kim bok joo #AU #rhythmic gymnasit katara #fencer zuko #fencer sokka #weightlifter toph #runner aang

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marvel-and-mischief · 3 years

Text

Daisies

Part of my Floriography Series

Pairing: Pero Tovar x F!Reader Words: 2700 Warnings: gambling, swearing, alcohol, rough handling by guards, allusions to prostitution (it’s part of a scam), lighthearted punishment in the stocks Synopsis: Pero seems to always be around at the wrong time to sabotage your scams and join in with your punishments. Enemies to Lovers (sorta)

Daisies: attachment, new beginnings

💐

“Now remember, ten or above wins you double your stake, below ten and your stake is mine.”

The scruffy drunkard sat opposite you let out a bellowing laugh, the nasty stench of his rotten teeth hitting your nostrils. His movements sloshed the tankard of mead in his hand, spilling some of its contents on the table between you. You had to hold back your look of disgust and smile through the uncomfortableness.

“I won’t lose. Throw ‘em, lady,” he slurred. You had to fight off the smirk threatening to show on your face as you shook the two, six sided dice in your right hand. You had nothing to worry about, the dice were weighted, favoring the lower numbers and therefore guaranteeing your win every time.

“Alright, but when you win you owe me a drink!” you winked cheekily at your mark, catching his eye whilst you threw the dice on the table. The more you distracted them the less chance there was of getting caught in your scam.

The dice came to a stop and you both looked down at the same time; a three and a four, earning a groan of disappointment from the few onlookers that had gathered to watch.

“Better luck next time,” you grinned, gathering up your dice and winnings as the man muttered something unintelligible and grumpily left the table, “anyone else want a go?”

“I will.”

You froze at the voice in your ear and saw the figure of a familiar man take the recently vacant seat opposite you. Pero Tovar always seemed to show up in your life when you least wanted him to. He was an annoying ghost and you could never shake off his haunting. You should gather up your earnings and leave but something kept you rooted to the table. And the longer you took to contemplate your next move, the more the drunkards in the tavern wanted to know what was going on. Soon you’d attracted quite the crowd.

“I said, I want a go.”

You looked into his brown eyes, the ones that sparkled with humor, always at your expense.

“It may be too difficult for your small brain to understand how to play,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Then let us play a different one. I will throw the dice, and if the total is lower than ten, I win every penny you have taken tonight.”

The bastard. The only reason he would suggest playing it that way was if he knew how you were cheating the game. You clenched your jaw in frustration.

“I think I am ready to take my leave-“

“But we have an audience!” Pero smirked, raising his voice and waving a hand at the tavern full of people who hurrahed, eager for you to throw the dice. You were cornered, physically by the wall of people around you and mentally by Pero who knew if you refused the game it would look suspicious.

“Fine,” you grumbled, faking an over the top smile, twirling the dice in one hand and clenching your other hand into a fist under the table. Stay calm, don’t show him how much he was getting to you, you told yourself. You’d chase him down afterwards and with a knife to his throat take your money back. That would show him.

You dropped the dice on the table and leaned back in your seat to see Pero staring at you. You didn’t need to see the dice to know you had lost, the weights that usually worked for you were against you this time, and the tavern goers yelled in surprise and delight, some were even joyfully patting Pero on the shoulder in congratulations. All the while Pero was smiling at you, self satisfied at playing you at your own game.

You pulled the drawstring bag off your hip and threw it across the table, hitting Pero in the chest.

“Better luck next time,” Pero mocked your earlier words, “would you like a drink to drown your sorrows in?” Pero threw the bag of coins in the air and caught it successfully.

“Oh bugger off, Pero,” you hissed, leaving the tavern in a huff. You didn’t want to see him again this night. You’d get him back next time.

The boy was young, still a teenager but old enough to know better. His clothes were of the finest materials, gold threads held the pieces together and added beautiful patterns to the front and shoulders of the jacket. He even had a long, shiny feather in his cap. He stuck out in the crown like a sore thumb.

You had been scouting the market for marks all morning and he was the only person you thought worthy of relieving of coin. He had a guard with him, who was more interested in looking at the women walking by, and his coin purse was dangling enticingly down by his hip. It would have been much easier for a child to run along and snip the string with a knife but the only ones you’d found were hand in hand with their parents. So you were on your own.

You were hidden down the side of a building, in the shadows and away from prying eyes. Or so you thought until you caught the flash of a grin out the corner of your eye.

Pero Tovar was mirroring your position on the other side of the marketplace, the wealthy man in the middle of you both. Pero moved his gaze to said man and it was then you knew he was after your mark.

It had been only a couple of nights since he took all your money at the tavern and you’d be damned if you were going to let him swindle you of even more coin. You had to get to the mark before Pero did, by any means necessary.

You tried to plead with him, subtly shaking your head but all Pero did was lean against the wall and offer you a warning glare.

The mark was buying a trinket from a stool, handing his purchase over to the guard to carry and looking around for where to go next. This was your only chance.

You untied the string at the top of your tunic, letting it open up to display your chest more than you would usually allow. But you needed a distraction and a way of getting close to the man without suspicion. You pulled out the small scissors from your boot and held them comfortably in your dominant hand, shaking down your sleeve to keep them out of sight.

You tried to ignore Pero but as soon as you slipped out of the alley he did the same, heading directly for the wealthy man.

Unfortunately whilst you were gaining speed through jogging movements, Pero’s purposeful strides were larger than yours, meaning you both reached the man at the same time.

“Sir, could I offer my services-“

“You seem too respectable to want the services of a harlot-“

“Harlot? Excuse me, I am so sorry, this ruffian-“

“Ruffian! You should show some respect-“

Your attempts to get close enough to grab the purse were scuppered by Pero subtly pulling you away with a hand around your waist. And as much as you tried to pry him off you, he was strong and stubborn, rendering your scam completely useless. The wealthy man’s guard dragged him away with a growl in your direction to stop you from pursuing them.

“What was that!?” Those words had been on the tip of your tongue but Pero spoke them first. You looked at him with a confused frown.

“What?”

“What were you thinking? That guard could have killed you.”

“Oh do not pretend you care for my health, you wanted that purse to yourself.”

“I did, but when I saw you were going to get yourself in serious trouble I had to come and save you instead of getting the coins for myself. You are welcome, idiota.”

You stared at Pero in disbelief. Was he expecting gratefulness? You couldn’t quite believe what he was saying.

“I have been doing this for years and I haven’t gotten caught once. I would appreciate it if you didn’t save me again,” you huffed, tying up the strings of your shirt before stomping away from him.

If you never saw Pero Tovar again it would be too soon.

You were mad. But you were mad that Pero was right more than you were mad at your actual predicament.

You had been playing a simple card trick on an unsuspecting traveller, one that you’d played hundreds of times, it had never gone wrong. Somehow the extra card up your sleeve (the one you used to cheat with) had slipped out and fallen to the floor and a guard that had been watching had spotted it and arrested you before you could run.

So that was how you found yourself in the stocks all morning, set in the middle of the courtyard of the castle grounds for everyone to laugh at. A few delighted children had thrown various rotten vegetables in your face, most adults had taken pity on you and walked on by. Your back was hurting from being hunched over, your feet were aching on the hard, stone ground. But none of that compared to the pain of seeing your foe being dragged towards you.

“Please, I beg you, this is punishment enough, do not put that man anywhere near me.”

“Anyone would think you hated me,” Pero grumbled, humor in his voice despite being guided towards his punishment.

You felt the top half of the stocks lifting off the back of your neck, a second of relief, as the guards situated Pero next to you. His hand was so close to yours you could touch him, not that you wanted to. The stocks were dropped down and locked in place and the guards left you alone.

“You bring me nothing but bad luck,” you mumbled, huffing as you shifted on your feet.

“Because I was not there to save you this time?” You could hear the smirk in his voice which irritated you.

“Because I have never been caught, and then you start showing up everywhere I go and I am caught, and to make things worse, I have to be punished next to you!” You laughed humorlessly, narrowly dodging a handful of what smells like horse manure. You shoot a glare over to the man who threw it.

“Carino,” Pero clicked his tongue and you felt his hand sweep against yours, “these rotten potatoes are preferable to your whining.”

You gasped and tried to flick at his hand but it only hurt your bruising wrists.

“When I get out of here I am going to find the biggest vegetable, fresh from the ground, and throw it at you.”

Pero laughed a large, belly rumbling laugh that surprised you.

“Why are you laughing?” you asked, baffled at his sudden turn of emotions, but it didn’t deter him from laughing more.

It was the second plop of manure hitting the top of your head that had you joining in with Pero. The ridiculousness of the situation, the bickering between you, and your damn hand kept knocking into his. It was all so silly.

You spent the rest of the morning in fits of giggles with the man you thought you hated.

You were thrown down the steps of the dungeons, your knees hitting the hard, dirty floor before you were hauled back to your feet to be taken to the cell that would be yours for the night.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” was the voice that greeted you. You saw him sitting in the corner of the cell, a growing bruise on his jaw and stripped of his leather outer garments. He looked softer in just a shirt and breeches, more vulnerable but also kinder. Like any ordinary man, not the pain in the ass you knew him to be. You chuckled at the sight of him.

“Your life would be boring without me,” you teased, but Pero nodded his agreement. You plopped down next to him with a sigh, stretching out your legs and feeling the soreness of your knees as you rested them. You rubbed at the tenderness over your skirts.

“Are you hurt?”

“Some scrapes, that is all,” you assured him, but his eyes lingered where you were soothing your burning knees, “how did you end up in here?”

“Not my fault,” you raised a sceptical eyebrow, “a drunkard started a fight with me.”

“And where is this drunkard?” you asked suspiciously, looking through the bars into the other cells, all of which were empty.

“He passed out. The guards did not want to drag his useless body in here.”

You hummed, clearly not believing his tale. He rolled his eyes at you, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing.

“And you?”

“Hmm?”

“How did you end up in here?”

You sighed, remembering what had happened.

“A noblewoman thought I was going to steal her purse.”

“You were not going to steal her purse?”

“No!” You feigned looking scandalised at the mere suggestion, before dropping the act, “I was going to steal her dog.”

Pero guffawed, not expecting you to say such a thing.

“Her dog?”

“It would have been worth more than the coins in her purse.”

Pero rubbed at his tired eyes. You listened to the sounds around you; the guards gossiping outside the dungeon door, a rat squeaking somewhere nearby, the rhythm of Pero’s breathing. It was the first bit of peace you’d had in a long time.

“If we get caught again they will not simply throw us in the dungeons,” Pero whispered ominously.

You couldn’t disagree with him, but there weren’t many other options for people like the two of you. You were wanderers and loners. You had no money, no home, no family. What choice did you have?

You glanced at Pero who was already looking at you. He looked defeated, with dark bags under his eyes and his lips turned ever so slightly downwards, he looked how you felt. Hopeless and alone.

“We keep running into each other. That must mean something,” you claimed, feeling stupid as soon as the words came out. You quickly looked away and waited for him to mock you.

“You think this is God’s will?”

You shrugged and began picking at the dirt on your skirts.

“Perhaps we should do something about it.”

“Like what?” you asked, allowing your tone to lift in hope.

“If we are meant to be, maybe we should get out of this town and find another.”

“Together?”

“Why not?”

You looked at Pero then. There was no teasing in his eyes or smirk on his lips, he was being deadly serious. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of sticking with Pero from now on. However, you couldn’t make it too easy for him.

“Well for one, I’d be stuck with your ugly mug.”

Pero grinned and let out a deep, throaty chuckle.

“I would wager my ugly face is better than the hangman's noose.”

The room became sombre once more as you realised what your options were. You had to leave town, but you could either do that alone or with the man whose company you were beginning to enjoy.

You felt Pero nudge your side and you saw he was holding a single daisy up to you.

“Do you carry flowers at all times?”

“No, idiota, they are growing in the walls,” with an amused shake of his head he carefully placed the small flower behind your ear and leaned back to admire his work.

After your initial shock you smiled your thanks and he smiled back.

“Bonita,” Pero muttered and leaned his shoulder against yours as he settled back against the cold, damp wall.

You think you could get used to sticking by his side.

Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @phoenixhalliwell @computeringturtle

#Floriography Series #Pero Tovar #Pero #Tovar #Pero Tovar x Reader #Pero x Reader #Tovar x Reader #The Great Wall #Pedro Pascal

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angxlyxn · 3 years

Text

forever - eren x f. reader

summary: Eren comes bearing a gift for his love.

warnings: mentions of abuse, blood, descriptions of wounds/bruises, kidnapping, yandere content but its sorta soft(ish)

a/n: I wrote this for a friend, and I apologize if its ooc :/ I don’t know Eren’s character that well because this story is centered around older Eren (season four), and I haven’t read much of the manga.

word count: ~1.9k

How long had it been?

How many weeks had you been here, under his “care”?

Whether it was months or weeks, or maybe even years, you did not know. All you were able to discern was the cold tile beneath your body, as well as your stiff limbs that were spread out upon it. Your eyes fluttered open, lashes grazing against the bruise that sat comfortably on your left eye, the gradually yellowing mark feeling more like a brand than a black eye. You rubbed your restrained palms against each other in an attempt to create just a bit of heat for yourself, but all that you really accomplished was gaining a few more rope burns on your wrist. You shifted your bound ankles, trying to gain back any sense of mobility as you lay stagnantly upon the uneven flooring. Looking down at your legs, you saw the various bruises and lacerations dotting them, shades of violet, red, and yellow dancing over your previously spotless skin. Your glossy eyes were glazed over, about as void of life and awareness as your mind was. It was as though you had undergone infantilization since you had been with him, you had lost touch with reality and become so useless because of his insistence on doing everything for you. It made you sick just thinking about it. You hated feeling inept, and you despised the feeling of powerlessness. There was only one thing you hated more than these things though, and that was Eren.

Eren. His name felt far too familiar in your mind, the word a fleck of dirt upon your otherwise at ease brain. The boy who you used to be so close to, the little kid who couldn’t intimidate a fly even if he tried. You had gotten into your fair share of fights as a kid, but you always ended up being far too small to ever win any. With Eren, it was half and half. He would lose some, and win some. Most of the ones that he would win would be the fights which you would team up in, what with your stealthiness and his anger. That was one thing that certainly hadn’t ever changed about the boy. As a kid he was more direct, more predictable. His bouts of rage came in patterns, and you were usually able to subdue his more unsavory emotions relatively swiftly. But now, as one might be able to infer from the sorry state of your crippled body, he was erratic, his temper having turned years ago from formulaic and obvious to completely incalculable. You hated it. You hated everything about his personality. You hated him.

Although, you weren’t entirely sure if you could bring yourself to completely loathe the brunette. It truly was a complicated situation. Feelings of affection and fondness for him left over from your childhood were still persistently blooming within you, rising through your lungs and up your throat and choking you out. You could say that you hated him a million times over, scream it at the top of your lungs, but you weren’t sure if it would ever be true. It couldn’t be. A shred of the boy you used to know must still be within him, buried beneath layers and layers of cruelty and unfeeling. He had to be there. And when you think about his old self, his stable, grounded words and determined being, you cringe a bit whenever you so much as think about hating Eren.

You just couldn’t believe how much he had changed.

As if on cue, a lock clicked, and a stream of light shone over your body, the harsh brightness of the sun pooling around your form. A rough hum of approval echoed throughout the room, the tired voice bouncing off of the walls and flooding your mind, the simple sound somehow being enough to make your ears ring. Another click, this time the door being shut and bolted behind the tall brunette. Your body involuntarily shivered as he began to approach you, your frame jolting off the floor with each step he took. He crouched before you, his form nothing more than a silhouette in your tear-filled vision.

The boy placed what appeared to be a tissue-wrapped package down in front of you, shifting onto his knees and tilting his head at your tears. A calloused hand gripped your jaw gently, yet in a manner that still demanded your attention and obedience.

“Angel,” he murmured. He never talked much these days, with the exception of whenever he got angry. “I went into town.”

You finally brought yourself to look up at him, shifting awkwardly until you had propped yourself up against the wall behind you. You hesitantly gazed at him with glassy eyes, your expression inquisitive and slightly pained.

A few moments of silence passed between the two of you, the only sound being the methodical ticking of the grandfather clock that sat in the corner of the otherwise desolate cabin which you were stuffed away in. He averted his eyes, breaking eye contact with you in favor of looking down at the package that he had brought in. He mumbled something under his breath about money as he nudged the parcel towards you, retrieving a small switchblade from his pocket after doing so. At the sight of the glinting blade you began to shuffle away from him, your bare feet catching on the billowy dress that Eren had picked out for you and scraping pathetically against the floor.

Before you could get too far, however, he grabbed your shoulder, his scarred fingers wrapping around your creamy arm with an iron-clad grip. He pulled you forward with a great force, causing you to tumble onto your stomach and fall before him, face pressing uncomfortably into the flooring beneath you. He wrestled with your hands, pulling them in towards one another and grasping your wrists together. You squirmed feverishly under his grip, wondering what you had done to make him want to hurt you. Bracing yourself for the pain, you squeezed your eyes shut and kicked your legs pitifully as you felt the blade grow closer to your arms.

However, all you felt was the release of your wrists, oxygen hitting the open gashes that had formed all over your lower arms as a result of rope burn. As he brought his blade back into his chest, the tip of it nicked the side of your forehead, which was still pressed down into the ground. Tears sprung from eyes as a bit of blood poured from the wound, the crimson substance dripping down your face and mingling with your crystal tears.

“Sit up,” he said as he looked down upon you. You complied with a bit of irresolution, your body faltering as you shifted to sit, using your numb hands to shove against the stony tiles. After you had resituated yourself, he grasped both of your hands between his. You flinched away, pulling your hands into your chest at the foreign feelings of his warm palms against yours.

He glared at your action, eyes darkening over and brow furrowing in contempt.

“Y/n,” he said in a warning voice. “Hands. I went to the trouble of getting something for you. Let me give it to you. Please, my love.”

You reached out your hands to him, allowing the brunette to grasp your small fists between his disproportionately large ones, pressing the package tenderly into your hands as he did so. Tentatively, you allowed yourself to gaze down at the parcel, your eyes drifting over the slightly crinkled tissue paper. One of your fingers grazed over the gift, pulling the tissue up from one side of it to reveal a gleaming object. You tore open the rest of the package, the silence filling the room still incredibly deafening.

Words still did not find you as you revealed the gift, which was a small brass hair clip with a metal flower fastened to the end. You discarded the tissue, instead opting to hold the barrette loosely, the cool iron brushing up against your warmed hands. You averted your eyes as you felt his palms come into contact with yours once more, grasping the hair clip and twisting it between his slim digits.

You felt a bit of hair being moved from your vision, the tangled locks effectively pushed out of your face by your captor, who only gave a small smile as he readjusted your tresses. He clipped the barrette onto your hair, the heavy clip pulling slightly against your scalp after he let go. He leaned back, his eyes shifting from jaded to soft, pupils dilating and lids opening a bit as he drank in your appearance, which couldn’t have been pleasant. Weeks without being let out of your binds had caused some dirt to clump in your hair, and your face had surely become weathered and deadened.

Yet he still looked at you as though you were God himself, like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. You reckon that Eren used to look up to you when you both were younger, his eyes lighting up ever so slightly every time he would come into contact with you. But this was different. While you were in the Survey Corps, combat training with him always consisted of him holding back on fights that should have been balanced and him murmuring something about ‘not wanting to break you’. You always took it with a grain of salt, thinking he was just being cocky by restraining himself, but it seems you were wrong, on more than one account. It was now apparent that he seemed to think of you as some prized possession, one that was “far too good for the outside world”, as he would say.

He still hurt you though. “Even Goddesses need to be kept in check” was always what he said as he cut into your skin, or hit you around whenever he had a particularly shitty day. Honestly, his treatment of you was far more confusing than it was cruel.

But maybe it was better that way.

You were brought back from your thoughts by the feeling of something rubbing against your cheek, namely Eren’s hand. He brought his fingers up to your eyes, brushing away the tears that sat upon your lashes, and then the blood that had dripped down your face. His touch mingled the two substances together, painting the skin on your face with a shade of watery red as he dragged his digits down your cheeks.

Pulling his hands away, he looked at your uncomfortable form, your quivering lips and shaking hands making their presence far too obvious.

Yet he still looked upon you gently, his mouth twisting upwards into a smile.

“You’re always so beautiful for me,” He said, his words impassioned, yet soft.

“I’m so glad that I get to have you, forever.”

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passable-talent · 4 years

Note

hi!! for roe, can i request a part two to the commander reader one?? maybe written with the events that happen when zuko asks if he can join the group (and when katara splashes him with her water bending, the reader deflects it)? the rest is up to you. thanks!! 🥺♥️

i love when yall request part 2s deadass

part 1

Being in the Fire Nation again made your skin crawl. It really was awful. You kept thinking that every voice behind every mask of every soldier was going to be an old friend from the academy. It kept you paranoid, and distracted, which was really the worst thing you could be on the Day of Black Sun.

Sadly, even a military strategist like you couldn’t have predicted what happened that day. You didn’t really want to make Sokka feel worse, so you couldn’t say much about it, but you were angry you’d wasted the day, the eclipse.

And running into Azula had made your skin crawl.

She greeted you like an old friend- you were. And in her discussion of how she’d known of the invasion, she let slip that one little detail, the one that had made your heart stop cold.

She said that Zuko was ‘gone’.

You knew that Azula lies, its all she’d ever done. And yet, you couldn’t help but wonder- he was a banished prince, one who’d let you get away even though you were in league with the avatar. He, as Katara had put it a month earlier, could’ve pieced it together than Aang was alive. You knew how deeply punishment ran in the Fire Nation, you’d seen it first hand.

Zuko had failed to kill the Avatar in Ba Sing Se. Could his father have killed him for it?

You loved him deeply, even to this day. He’d never hurt you, so though you listened and understood when Aang and Katara and Sokka talked horribly of him, you’d never agree. You saw a glimmer of hope in him, when he let you go in the earth kingdom, and for just one moment in Ba Sing Se. You’d always harbored hope that he would one day return to your side, and help the avatar, but-

He couldn’t do that if his father had killed him.

“Gone”.

She was done speaking to you by the time the fighting started, and although you protected your friends, your mind wasn’t up to the task of focusing enough to win the battle. You cursed yourself for it- you were Fire Nation too, you knew what she was doing, damn it. You knew that she was a liar by nature, but you couldn’t help but worry, be terrified.

The eclipse ended. The day ended. You had to go, and leave so many of your fellow soldiers behind. You wished you could save them all- but you knew what had to be done.

You were the only firebender Aang knew. You had to train him. The problem was- you never learned much more firebending than the basics that Iroh had taught Zuko in the winter. Sure, you knew them by heart, and they served you well, and sure you’d figured out some moves of your own in facing down firebenders all spring and summer, but you couldn’t help but feel inadequate for training the avatar.

You gave him what you could. You hoped it was enough.

You didn’t quite grieve for Zuko, because you told yourself that Azula must have been lying, just like she was about Suki. She had to be. Zuko wouldn’t go down that easily, even to his father. Iroh wouldn’t have let it happen. You had to believe that Azula was saying it just to get in your head.

She’d succeeded in distracting you during that one battle, on that one day. You wouldn’t let her do it again.

Lucky for you, it wasn’t long before she was proven wrong.

Sometimes, thoughts come at you all at once. You have a thousand different reactions and in the moment, you have to chose one. Sometimes, though, your reaction is instant, but follows down a train of thought that happens in hardly the blink of an eye, when you think so fast that it transcends words.

This was what happened when you saw Zuko. You were filled with relief, and you wanted to hug him, your old friend, who you were so sure was dead, even though you tried to convince yourself otherwise. You were about to take a step forward when you realized it would make you look like a traitor to your friends, and so from behind Katara you said “forgive me” before rushing forward, and hugging him, exactly like you’d wanted, with a breath of his name.

But the euphoria of seeing him alive faded while you remembered what he was likely here for. He was the enemy of Aang. So you let go, and walked backwards to your friends again, standing at Aang’s side, where you knew you’d make your allegiance clear. You hoped that they would understand why you’d needed to hug him.

“I heard you guys flying around down there, so I just thought I’d. Wait for you. Here.” Zuko was as awkward as you’d ever seen him in your life, back when he was a bumbling preteen. It almost made you smile, but you couldn’t, quite. Appa’s roar had always made you flinch, but as much as you expected to see the prince eaten then and there, Appa instead licked him, and you caught the way that it affected Aang. Why did the bison trust him?

“I know you must be surprised to see me here,” Zuko said, and you narrowed your eyes, as surprised as he expected. Sure, he was alive, and you were happy about that. But why now? He hadn’t been chasing the avatar for months, even before Ba Sing Se. Why did he come now?

“Not really, since you’ve followed us all over the world,” Sokka said, and you could feel the combat rising in your friends beside you. They didn’t get it. Zuko wasn’t the most strategic person in the world, but he was smart. If he was here to fight them, he wouldn’t have come alone. He wouldn’t have come without armor on.

“Right, well, uhh...” He was so awkward, it was almost painful. How was this the same prince that you’d known just a few months ago? “Anyway, what I wanted to tell you about is that I’ve changed. And I, uh, I’m good now. And, well, I think I should join your group. Oh, and I can help teach firebending, since I know Y/N doesn’t know some of the higher stuff. See, I, uh-” You shared a glance with Aang, briefly. You were surprised by practically everything he was saying- he’d had a change of heart? He wanted to help the avatar?

He remembered that much about you?

“You want to what now?” Toph said, being cutoff only a moment later by Katara.

“You can’t possibly think that any of us would trust you, can you? I mean, how stupid do you think we are?”

“Well, you trust Y/N, and they’re from the Fire Nation, like me, so-” Zuko’s words almost insulted you. You cared for Zuko, but you and he were not the same.

“Y/N helped us from the first moment we met,” Sokka said, coming to your aid, and you looked at him briefly, almost touched he’d had such a quick response. “All you’ve ever done is try to hunt us down and capture Aang.”

“I’ve done some good things!” Zuko responded, taking a small step forward. “I let you go in that storm! I let Y/N go when I was supposed to take them prisoner! I mean, I could’ve stolen your bison in Ba Sing Se, but I set him free! That’s something.” Appa seemed to try to prove his words with another lick.

“Appa does seem to like him,” Toph conceeded. It put just the flicker of doubt in your chest, that he might be telling the truth. You hoped he was- he hadn’t lied about any of the other examples.

“He probably just covered himself in honey or something so Appa would lick him,” Sokka said, and you glanced down at yourself.

“I didn’t feel any honey when I hugged him,” you said, which earned you a quick glare from Katara, and you decided to shut your mouth.

“Still,” Sokka said, waving a hand in front of him, “I’m not buying it.”

“I can understand why you wouldn’t trust me,” Zuko said, lowering his head, “and I know I’ve made some mistakes in the past.” For a moment, you wondered if you were gullible, or perhaps naïve, to almost believe him.

“Like when you attacked our village?”

“Or when you stole my mother’s necklace and used it to track us down and capture us?”

Yeah, maybe you were.

“Look, I admit I’ve done some awful things. I was wrong to try to capture you, and I’m sorry I attacked the water tribe. And I never should’ve sent that Fire Nation assassin after you. I’m gonna try to stop him-”

“Wait, you sent Combustion Man after us?”

You were definitely naive. He sent an assassin after you- you couldn’t let yourself trust him again.

“Well, that’s not his name, but-” Oh, Zuko, why would you doom yourself like that?

“Oh, sorry,” Sokka said, boomerang held with blade toward Zuko, “I didn’t mean to insult your friend.”

“He’s not my friend!”

“That guy locked me and Katara in jail and tried to blow us all up!” Zuko took the blows and lowered his head, but then slid his gaze to Aang.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” He asked, his voice calmer now, “You once said you thought we could be friends. You know I have good in me.” After Aang didn’t respond, he looked to you.

“Y/N? Please.” For a moment, you met his eye, but after a slow heartbeat you looked away, condemning him to whatever decision Aang would reach.

“There’s no way we can trust you after all you’ve done,” Aang said, his voice strong, with no hint of hesitation, “we’ll never let you join us.”

“You need to get out of here,” Katara ordered him, “now.”

“I’m trying to explain that I’m not that person anymore!” he shouted, and you brought up your fists, as his body language clearly said otherwise.

“Either you leave, or we attack,” Sokka threatened, stopping Zuko in his tracks. His gaze fell to the ground.

“If you won’t accept me as a friend,” he said, lowering himself to his knees, “then maybe you’ll take me as a prisoner.”

“No, we won’t!” Katara snarled, stepping forward and throwing him back with a powerful wave. You knew that she wouldn’t throw him over the edge, but your heart pounded in worry all the same. “You need to get out of here, and don’t come back. And if we ever see you again- well, we’d better not see you again!” You looked away, as he stood, and walked away. You couldn’t bear to look at him.

The boy you saw in front of you, the boy that left the Western Air Temple- he was everything that you’d always wanted to see in Zuko. He was the best parts of the boy you’d once known. He was trying to make things right, and accepting the consequences of his actions. You were proud of him. And it took every ounce of your strength not to go to him, and tell him so.

You held back your voice as Katara and Sokka raged against him. You knew that their trust in you was strong, but you were Fire Nation to them, even after all this time. You knew that the foundation of your friendship was strong, but to try to convince them of the good in Zuko would be battering rams taken to load-bearing pillars. You were a strategist- you knew to hold your tongue.

Toph, on the other hand, had no such qualms. She stormed out, and you avoided the wrath of the water tribe siblings.

But Zuko proved his allegiance, first by helping take down Combustion Man, then by reasoning with Aang using more gentleness than you’d ever seen him use, at least at one time. And once again, you kept quiet, knowing that you shouldn’t actively speak out in favor for the prince. Even when Aang asked for your permission, you skirted over your opinion.

“You’ve been hurt by him far more than I. If you’re okay, then I’m okay.”

But after he’d been accepted, after he’d been given his own room, after he and everyone else had settled in, you couldn’t stop yourself, couldn’t keep quiet anymore. You snuck through the hallways and into the room he’d been given, and knocked on the wall beside the archway of his door. Hopefully it would get his attention before alerting the others.

He looked up from his bags to you, and for once in his life had foresight enough to keep his voice down.

“Y/N?” He said, and you rushed through the door to hug him once again.

“Zuko,” you answered, laying your face in the crook of his neck. “I’m so happy to see you.” He hugged back, shocked by the gesture as he was.

“It’s good to see you too,” he answered, but yielded the conversation to you.

“I always knew you’d join us eventually. I knew it.” He didn’t answer, beyond resting his forehead down onto you.

He didn’t question how you knew more about his heart than he did.

He knew the answer.

tag list: @lammello @kittyddandnyla @qquell @caitiff @coldlilheart @sleeping-with-the-fishes @duh-dobrik @dxcter

-🦌 Roe

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astrognossienne · 3 years

Text

scandalous beauty: athalia ponsell lindsley - an analysis

“Not that St. Augustine citizens went around killing people they didn’t like. But Athalia was not on a level playing field. Nobody liked her, so there was not a big hue and cry when she was killed.” - Sally Boyles, a neighbour of Lindsley’s

For someone so brash, loud, and ballsy, her life, especially her early life, was quite a mystery. Just like her controversial death. On January 23, 1974, former model, dancer, political activist and television personality Athalia Ponsell Lindsley was murdered with a machete by an unknown assailant on the front steps of her home in St. Augustine, Florida. Her murder is notorious more than four decades after it occurred. The only eyewitness said a man attacked Lindsley with a machete in broad daylight on the front steps of her white mansion. Gossip swirled that neighbour Frances Bemis knew who killed Lindsley and would notify authorities. Bemis was later murdered on her nightly walk. Police arrested only one suspect for Lindsley's murder, which remains unsolved to this day. For someone who was a Leo, I don't think Athalia was a very happy person. I think she tried to bring others down, with her based on her ill-concealed dissatisfaction with the way things were. Unfortunately for her, her demise happened in a town that didn’t care for her.

Athalia Ponsell Lindsley, according to astrotheme, was a Leo sun and Libra moon (the moon is speculative). She was born Mary Anne “Athalia” Fetter in Toledo, Ohio in 1917. Her parents were both wealthy New Yorkers; her father was a utilities magnate and her mother a socialite. Shortly after her birth, she and her family moved to Isle of Pines (now known as Isla de la Juventud), Cuba where she was raised until the age of 12. By the time the parents moved to Jacksonville, Florida and enrolled her in parochial school, she was winning beauty contests and pursuing an acting career. After high school, she moved to New York City, where it didn’t take her long to be employed as a fashion model for the celebrated fashion designer John Robert Powers, which helped her land work in some Broadway musicals and as a hostess on a TV game show. By 1949, she was the hottest model in NYC. She was just as hot off the runway as well; the list of Ponsell’s sexual conquests was long, including the likes of actor Tyrone Power and Joseph P. Kennedy, Jr. She was reported to have been married three times, one of them to a man named Ponsell, but there is no information on him or her other two spouses. She had a scrapbook of all the celebrities and people she was acquainted. But success had quickly gone to the young model’s head, and by 1954, she’d burned all her bridges at her modeling agency, and her reputation as “the bitch of New York” was well-earned and kept her from earning any more work in the entertainment industry.

Out of work, over the hill, and her looks fading, Ponsell quit her 20-years of modeling and entertainment work and retired to a white stucco mansion in St. Augustine in 1972. By that time, the 55-year-old washed-up model became embittered. From the moment she arrived in St.Augustine, she did her best to position herself at the top of the city’s high society. But the sides of that pyramid were very steep, and to the city’s old-school cultural hardliners, she was an outsider, and an obnoxious one, at that. St. Augustine is known for being a rather cliquish town, and unless you have Spanish, Menorcan, or WASP roots, any newcomer is looked at as an outsider. She was known as a pain in the ass, criticizing everything she thought was wrong with the town and its citizens. Naturally the upper crust didn’t take too well to her. She may have annoyed them, but she did catch the eye of another important person, Mayor James Lindsley, a St. Augustine native who went by the nickname “Jinx”. Jinx was known around the city for his ability to work hard and drink even harder. He was of the generation where if he was wronged, or if there was a problem, he settled his differences with his fists. Despite his passionate love affairs with ass kicking and Jack Daniels, Athalia was drawn to Jinx’s good standing with St. Augustine’s old guard, Jinx was attracted to her still-good looks and fiery personality. The two courted hard and fast, and just a few months after they met, they married.

Their marriage was rocky from the start, providing the town with juicy gossip. In fact, just 3 months into the marriage, the two separated. They wound up living in separate homes, fighting back and forth about possessions and property. She may have treated her husband and the town like dirt, but she was very moved by animals and took in a lot of strays and accumulated a coterie of animals. This didn’t endear herself to the neighbours, and they complained of dogs barking and other noises coming from her makeshift “animal shelter”. One neighbour in particular that took exception to Athalia and her animals was a hot-headed county manager called Alan Stanford. Stanford lived next door to her on Marine Street, and the two clashed from day one. Stanford filed several noise complaints against Athalia and her pets, resulting in her arrest. In revenge, she made Stanford’s life as county manager a living hell. She became a fixture at City Hall, attending every county meeting she could and accuse Stanford of all sorts of improprieties, from the mismanagement of county funds to stealing equipment from the road department. Some of these accusations weren’t entirely unfounded, but it got to the point where her presence was dreaded. She was after his job and wanted him fired. Stanford, in turn, threatened her life. December of 1973, she found out that Stanford lacked the civil engineering degree required for all county managers, and went to the state to report him.

On January 23, 1974 she attended her last city hall meeting, armed with petitions of several citizens calling for Stanford to resign. She exposed the fact that Stanford forged documents and padded his experience and qualifications as county manager. Later that day, to celebrate, she met her estranged husband Jinx for lunch. The day went surprisingly well, going shopping in Jacksonville and running errands. At approximately 5:30 pm, they both went home to their respective houses. As Athalia walked her pet blue jay around in her front yard, an intruder emerged from her back yard, armed with a machete. Moments later, the police department received a call about a murder. The police arrived to the provided address and found Athalia sprawled across the front steps of her porch, nearly decapitated and hacked to death with a machete in broad daylight.

The scene was chaotic, with neighbours trampling all over the grass trying to get a look, contaminating evidence. In their great police work, the cops never thought to rope off the crime scene. When her husband Jinx was notified of his wife’s murder, he took his time getting to her house, making a pit stop to his attorney’s office along the way. A few hours later, the cops find a machete in his pickup truck. But an open-and-shut case this was not. In February of 1974, the rumour was that Jinx killed her in a drunken rage. Even though Jinx had a violent temper and smacked his wife around, in the eyes of local investigators, he was “unarrestable”; they had no real evidence against the mayor and he even passed a lie-detector test. A tip from one of Athalia’s neighbours came in: it seems the neighbour’s 19 year-old son claimed to have witnessed her old nemesis Alan Stanford kill her. There was a trail of blood that led from Athalia’s front porch directly into Allen Stanford’s back yard. More than a few weren’t concerned with Athalia being killed because she was such a bitch that they feel that she deserved what she got.

In March of 1974, there was a blood-stained machete, a watch, and blood-soaked trousers found in a bag in a swamp; the blood on the clothes matched Athalia’s, and the clothes belonged to Stanford. On February 22, 1974, Alan Stanford was arrested and charged with murder. On January 1975, the murder trial commenced. The prosecution had a strong case and a guilty verdict seemed almost certain. Just before closing arguments, Stanford’s defense team called the 19-year old witness to the stand. Despite previously identifying Stanford as the killer, the young man was now unsure of the identity, having never actually seen the assailant’s face. On the day following the killing, a young nurse rode her bicycle as she always did. The police stopped her and questioned her about the murder. The nurse picked out a third suspect, deputy sheriff Dewey Lee, as the killer, further muddling the waters. The jury found Alan Stanford not guilty, despite the mountain of evidence against him. Local authorities were so upset by the verdict that they refused to re-open the case. Even though Stanford was acquitted of the murder, Athalia wound up getting the last laugh in the end, they local county board voted 4 to 1 to fire Stanford due to his lying about his credentials. He wound up leaving town shortly afterward. Today, St. Augustine is different; most who lived on Marine Street during the 1960s and 1970s have either moved away or passed away. Athalia’s house, now a historical landmark, still stands today, a grim reminder of how local resentment can go too far.

the murder of frances bemis

Frances Bemis was a socialite and neighbour of Athalia Ponsell Lindsley who happened to be a close friend of hers. Shortly after Lindsley’s murder, Frances started gathering information in order to write a book about the murder, claiming that she had information on what really happened. On November 3, 1974, she went for an evening walk and disappeared. Her body was found near her house, her skull crushed by a cement block. Her murder has never been solved.

This was the next analysis that I planned to do after the Robert Mitchum one, so I decided to just get this one out of the way.

Stats

birthdate: July 25, 1917*

*note*: due to the absence of a birth time, this analysis will be even more speculative.

major planets:

Sun: Leo

Moon: Libra

Rising: unknown

Mercury: Leo

Venus: Leo

Mars: Gemini

Midheaven: unknown

Jupiter: Gemini

Saturn: Leo

Uranus: Aquarius

Neptune: Leo

Pluto: Cancer

Overall personality snapshot: She had a prestigious, compelling presence, even when she was just clowning around, and a natural ability to command both respect and affection from her friends and colleagues. In the nicest possible way she assumed the position of the leader because she had a strong independent streak and believed in her lofty, worthy ideals, but she also gravitated towards collaboration and an impartial examination of the facts. She could be bossy and yet her bossiness was so diplomatic that it was convincing, even impressive. Although she wanted esteem and tended to identify with honourable goals and people, she could work alongside others she respected and she really wanted the best for everyone. She had style, and she instinctively knew that ‘manners maketh man’ and that, if for some reason they didn’t, they went a long way in making life worth living. When she came into her own, she developed a strongly aesthetic approach to life and are naturally creative. She needed a very positive, active medium through which to express herself, such as drama, teaching or running her own business.

Anything to do with beauty and harmony interested her, such as decorating, design and painting. Her interest in social equality took her into politics or the law. She had a strong sense of herself and stubbornly followed her own personal code of ethics, yet she also enjoyed being part of a group that had a common purpose or bond. She cherished ideals of liberty and equality, but if there were some distasteful tasks to perform she moved very smoothly into the role of delegating – well, she thought, someone has to give the orders around here or we would have no harmony at all. Although she seemed to enjoy an easy, breezy approach to life, there was quite a serious side to her personality, and she could be surprisingly controversial and provocative. She was willing to stand up and be counted, and perhaps make it look easy. She had a natural appreciation and enjoyment of the good things of life; she assumed that they should be hers by birthright. And through cunning charm, calculated boldness, and intelligent maneuver she managed to have plenty.

She was ambitious, sound at giving orders, carried responsibility well and was a good teacher, especially able to bring out the best in children. She believed in herself and generally knew the right thing to say at the right time, although she could show a stubborn and dogmatic side. She had a high opinion of her mental powers, and it was certainly true to say that he had plenty of mental energy. She was a mentally restless person, both versatile and broad-minded. She experienced personal growth through analysis and using her intellect, although the collection and communication of facts may have been an end within itself. She was a reliable and loyal person. Her will and sense of honour were strong and she was a great organizer. On the downside, her self-assuredness could become dogmatism and imperiousness. Conservatism may have affected her creativity, artistic values and love affairs. This expressed itself as self-imposed restrictions or as selfishness. She often felt inadequate, which created an insidious form of oppression over all her forms of expression. She could also take herself so seriously, that people think that she was older than her years.

She belonged to a generation that could be unpredictable in that it liked to instigate change simply for the sake of shaking things up and providing stimulation. Humanitarian ideals became extremely important, as well as the belief in absolute freedom for every individual. She came up with radical new ideas which she stubbornly followed. As a member of this generation, she may have felt deep spiritual convictions, although she may not have seen herself as religious in the traditional sense of the word. She was part of a very artistically talented and creative generation that wanted to escape from the demands of the world around them into a world of excitement and glamour. Members of this generation loved the theater and the cinema, in fact, any sort of creative self-expression. They also believed in the rights of any individual to express themselves. This generation was both idealistic and romantic, selfish and individualistic. Lindsley embodied all of these Leo Neptunian ideals. Also, as a member of the Leo Neptune generation, she experienced and fully embraced changes in sexual mores and attitudes, changing the way people approach the whole issue of romantic relationships. Changes were also experienced in the relationships between parents and children, with the ties becoming looser. She was part of a generation known for its devastating social upheavals concerning home and family. The whole general pattern of family life experiences enormous changes and upheavals; as a Cancer Plutonian, this aspect is highlighted with Lindsley’s father dying relatively young and her having to care for her mother until she died.

Love/sex life: There is never any question as to the ground rules of her erotic universe: what best served her ego, best served her libido. She had a marvelous capacity for enjoying sex but her pride and self-possession always came first. Some people might have found the egotism of this position offensive but many others hardly noticed. After all, a lover as lively, generous and exciting as she had good reason to be proud. There was always a distinctively theatrical quality about her love making. She wanted sex to be a big event, full of drama and intellectual significance. This grandiose approach to sex can certainly be entertaining but it often made her romantic moments seem less than spontaneous. More importantly, real life sex rarely met her cinematic standards. This is one reason why she often found the idea of love much more appealing than its physical manifestations.The sex in her head was never common or clumsy, and she could always count on great reviews.

minor asteroids and points:

North Node: Capricorn

Lilith: Virgo

Her North Node in Capricorn dictated that she needed to develop the more caring and compassionate side to her personality and try to place less emphasis on the materialistic aspects of her life. Her Lilith in Virgo ensured that she exhibited a Madonna-whore complex; she made her way through the world with her sensational wits and she had no time for constricting judgments. She confronted the grittier facts of life, especially sex. She was good at sex but not as a form of sappy emotional expression.

elemental dominance:

fire

air

She was dynamic and passionate, with strong leadership ability. She generated enormous warmth and vibrancy. She was exciting to be around, because she was genuinely enthusiastic and usually friendly. However, she could either be harnessed into helpful energy or flame up and cause destruction. Ultimately, she chose the latter. Confident and opinionated, she was fond of declarative statements such as “I will do this” or “It’s this way.” When out of control—usually because she was bored, or hadn’t been acknowledged—she was be bossy, demanding, and even tyrannical. But at her best, her confidence and vision inspired others to conquer new territory in the world, in society, and in themselves. She was communicative, quick and mentally agile, and she liked to stir things up. She was likely a havoc-seeker on some level. She was oriented more toward thinking than feeling. She carried information and the seeds of ideas. Out of balance, she lived in her head and could be insensitive to the feelings of others. But at her best, she helped others form connections in all spheres of their daily lives.

modality dominance:

fixed

She wasn’t particularly interested in spearheading new ventures or dealing with the day-to-day challenges of organization and management. She excelled at performing tasks and producing outcomes. She was flexible and liked to finish things. Was also likely undependable, lacking in initiative, and disorganized. Had an itchy restlessness and an unwillingness to buckle down to the task at hand. Probably had a chronic inability to commit—to a job, a relationship, or even to a set of values.

planet dominants:

Sun

Mars

Pluto

She had vitality and creativity, as well as a strong ego and was authoritarian and powerful. She likely had strong leadership qualities, she definitely knew who she was, and she had tremendous will. She met challenges and believed in expanding her life. She was aggressive, individualistic and had a high sexual drive. She believed in action and took action. Her survival instinct was strong. She wanted to take herself to the limit—and then surpass that limit, which she often did. She ultimately refused to compromise her integrity by following another’s agenda. She likely didn’t compare herself to other people and didn’t want to dominate or be dominated. She simply wanted to be free to follow her own path, whatever it was. She brought about complete and profound transformations in her life, good or bad (and it was often bad). She felt the need to let go of what was familiar to her and accept new and different ways of being and doing things. There were areas in her life where she had to accept regeneration, which involved the destruction of the old and the creation of the new.

sign dominants:

Leo

Gemini

Cancer

She loved being the center of attention and often surrounded herself with admirers. She had an innate dramatic sense, and life was definitely his stage. Her flamboyance and personal magnetism extended to every facet of her life. She wanted to succeed and make an impact in every situation. At her best, she was optimistic, honorable, loyal, and ambitious. She ventured out to see what else was there and seized upon new ideas that will expand their communities. Her innate curiosity kept her on the move. She used her rational, intellectual mind to explore and understand her personal world. She needed to answer the single burning question in her mind: why? This applied to most facets of her life, from the personal to the impersonal. This need to know sent her off to foreign countries, where her need to explore other cultures and traditions ranked high. She was changeable and often moody. This meant that she was often at odds with herself—the mind demanding one thing, the heart demanding the opposite. To someone else, this internal conflict often manifested as two very different people. At first meeting, she seemed enigmatic, elusive. She needed roots, a place or even a state of mind that he could call her own. She needed a safe harbor, a refuge in which to retreat for solitude. She was generally gentle and kind, unless he was hurt. Then she could become vindictive and sharp-spoken. She was affectionate, passionate, and even possessive at times. She was intuitive and was perhaps even psychic. Experience flowed through her emotionally. She was often moody and always changeable; her interests and social circles shifted constantly. She was emotion distilled into its purest form.

Read more about her under the cut.

Athalia Ponsell Lindsley was a former model, Broadway performer, actress, dancer and television personality who died in a savage late-afternoon attack at her home on Jan. 23, 1974. Wife of the once mayor of St. Augustine, James "Jinx" Lindsley, who died a few years after her death. Mrs. Athalia Lindsley was very active politically.

She also took in many animals, such as dogs, cats and even two goats. At the time of her murder, she was outside trying to rehabilitate one of her rescue birds, a blue jay named Clementine which had an injured wing. She had rescued the little bird from neighborhood cats.

Athalia Ponsell Lindsley was a very devoted daughter who took care of her mother full time until her mother passed away.

She was 58 years old when her life was brutally cut short.

A neighbor and local politician was the only person ever arrested and tried for her murder, after a very dramatic trial, a jury found the defendant not guilty, and he was acquitted

(x)

#athalia ponsell lindsley #leo #star analyses #scandalous stars #long ass post #mine

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imomomi · 4 years

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A/N: This is part of a BTS x Haikyuu collab, the masterlist can be found here and inspired by the song Serendipity.

Summary: Kuroo’s life was meant to be simple. Go to Nationals, try to win, and get into a good college. But, it all goes haywire when Kenma brings a cat to practice. Now, Kuroo must rethink everything he knew about life and himself.

Rain pattered on the windows of Gym B as the team stretched. Kuroo looked around the gym wondering what was holding Kenma up. It was unusual for him to be late or skip practice, but the rain might have contributed to the slight cold he’d been developing over the last week. Kuroo wondered if it was better to cancel their Friday practice and give everyone the chance to get home before the storm got any worse. Coach Nekomata would most likely agree.

The gym doors open with a bang and a roll of thunder echoing from outside. The noise and flash of lightening that followed sent his heart into his mouth. Kenma entered, not a drop of water on him despite the heavy rain. Nestled in his arms rested a sleeping cat. Its gray fur gleamed unnaturally beneath the gym lights.

The sight of their setter cooing softly to the cat sent a whirl of enthusiasm through the team, especially Lev who jumped towards Kenma long limbs shaking with excitement.

“Let me see,” he demanded, attempting to snatch the cat out of Kenma’s hands. Kenma dodged him easily, but the cat startled and lept out of his hands. It strode slowly across the gym floor, coming to a stop between Yaku and Kuroo.

“Leave her alone, Lev,” said Kenma. A sharp slap filled the air and Lev hissed, rubbing at his stinging hand. “She was lost, I couldn’t just leave her.”

Kuroo knelt and held a hand towards the cat to coax her forward. She stared at the limb curiously and then sat on her back legs, holding her own paw up. He was shocked with the paw tapped against his palm as if high fiving him.

“She did that to me too,” said Kenma softly. The cat jumped at the sound of his voice, jumping over Kuroo’s outstretched towards Kenma. She settled at his feet, tail wrapping around his ankle.

“She’s smart,” said Kuroo. Kenma hummed, nodding in agreement.

“You need to take Fuku home,” said Kenma. Lucky. There was something cute about Kenma naming a cat that.

“What? Why?”

“My mom won’t let her stay. And…I found her curled up in your jacket.”

“I can’t take her home! Where is she going to stay?”

“It’s just for a couple of days, until we find a new home for her.”

Kuroo looked down at the cat. Bright gold eyes met his. He knew whatever fight he would put up, Kenma had an answer for. Outside the storm raged on. The smell of rain wafted into the gym. The rumble of lightening sounded like the purr of a cat.

“You’ll behave, won’t you?” He rubbed the spot between Fuku’s ears. The cat didn’t respond, but her nose twitched and filled Kuroo with an uneasy sense of foreboding.

A couple of days turned into weeks. Kuroo kept the act up and asked Kenma day after day if he had found a new owner. But, part of him was growing used to having Fuku there. Each day, she would wake before him, padding quietly across his room to burrow in his sock drawer. Sometimes he let her out when he went on a run. When he came back, she’d sit on their roof snacking on fish or dried squid. Other days, Fuku would follow him and Kenma to school. Though she never rode the train with them, he would find her wandering the grounds during lunch.

Kuroo wondered if Kenma had done it on purpose. At home, Kuroo was often alone. His grandparents would take day trips to visit their various friends and his father worked late. Talking to a cat was a step closer to insanity, but it was nice having someone to vent too, even if she couldn’t quiet respond.

He liked it most when Fuku would curl next to him on the bed, her gaze focused on his books as if she understood the words printed on the page. Sometimes he would read aloud to break the silence. It was a calm and quiet peace that he hadn’t known he was lacking.

Today, Fuku rested on his bed, curled around one of his old sweatshirts. She pawed at the logo curiously.

“Nekoma. Like you, neko-chan. I’m the captain of the volleyball team.”

A head tilt.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t seem like the type to be responsible and all that, but you’d be surprised.”

She lept from the bed, skidding across his desk. The poster he had been working on—why didn’t they have a manager?!—crumbled under her paws.

“Shit,” he cursed. Annoyance flared. Sometimes Fuku did things like this; whatever luck her name brought must have been buried deep. “I need that for fundraising.”

The cat blinked and stretched, crunching the poster even more. He had the weird feeling that, she had done it deliberately to annoy him with an apathetic air of calm.

He needed new friends…and a new cat.

Wind blew into the empty classroom as Kuroo unlocked the latch on the windows. He’d offered to clean, only to avoid being too early to practice. Last time, he’d shown up on time, Yaku had spent a half hour mocking him for being more of an old man than Coach Nekomata. Chalk dug into his cuticles. A healthy layer of dust stuck to the front of his sweater. The classroom had last been cleaned by Tsubaki Ayumi, a girl who did her homework seconds before their sensei walked in. She cleaned in the same fashion, pushing crumbs beneath desks and under the bookshelf. Kuroo found his annoyance growing.

The trees rustled. A fresh flutter of petals fell onto the window ledge from the blossoming trees outside. But, something else stuck between the trees. Kuroo narrowed his eyes. Was that someone’s jumper?

“Hello,” a voice called. Kuroo looked up and jumped back. A girl was hanging from the ledge of the window, smiling at him.

“Wh….what? Who are you?”

“That’s not very nice.” she said. One of her hands left the ledge to pull her hair away from her face and his heart lurched out of his chest.

“Are you insane? You’ll fall!” he shouted, jumping to grab her wrist and pull her into the classroom. She was wearing their school uniform, and Kuroo vaguely knew he had seen her at Nekoma before. She fell into the classroom face front and hissed.

A poster was thrust into his hands. “Have you seen this cat?”

“Who are you? How did you climb that high?”

“I didn’t climb up. I climbed down from the roof.”

“What year are you in? Which homeroom? You can’t just do that!”

Her head tilted, “We’re in the same class.”

His hands twisted in his hair. Tie loosened; blazer tossed over the back of his chair. Her knees were scrapped, stockings bloodied. On his seventh birthday, he had climbed the tallest tree in his backyard and had gotten stuck for an hour. His father had come home to find him crying on the back porch cut up from sliding down the trunk of the tree. He peered at the girl’s face, the little cuts on her cheeks and looked at the tree outside their classroom. Had she really climbed down from the roof?

“I’ll take you to the nurse. Come on,” he said. She jumped as he moved, almost frightened by his tallness. But she followed. Her nose stuck high in the air and her steps were light and airy.

“Kuroo-san, my cat?”

“What’s your name?”

“My name?” she murmured. Her fingers traced a pattern on her temple. “We’ve been in the same class for three years. Four, if you count Junior High.”

He looked at her for a long while. Kuroo wasn’t the type to forget people and someone like her didn’t seem like the type to be easily overlooked. Guilt swirled and he tried his hardest to think of her name. He usually avoided the girls in class. Not that there was something wrong with them, they just had a vision of him in their heads that was often outlandish compared to his actual personality.

“It’s alright, Kuroo-san.”

“Kuroo? Y/N?” Kai entered the classroom, looking surprised to find the two of them together. Y/N jerked back. Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her skirt as if it will somehow hide her scrapped knees.

“Y/N? Oh, you’re the one…” he trailed off. The one whose mother had died. His unspoken words shook in the air. A pure longing to flee the room filled him. Kai spared him a pitying glance and guided Y/N out of the room.

Their teacher warned them not to bring it up to Y/N who returned from a week’s absence looking pale and withdrawn. Kuroo had never really noticed her. Silent was a word he rarely associated with people, but Y/N had always been like that. His memories of her were sparse at best. But once in their second year, she had freaked out when one of the other boys stole her confession letter and read it aloud. No one really remembered who she was trying to confess too, but everyone remembered the bruise on that had bloomed on Takashi’s face after she punched him.

Now, everyone remembered her because of her dead mother.

He looked down at the poster and let out a loud groan. Only he had this type of luck. The cat staring up at him was Fuku.

Kenma disappeared behind the door, shutting it softly behind him. Y/N and Kuroo stood silently beside one another, looking at the door for a moment. Y/N swallowed, turning away and starting to walk forward. Kuroo walked beside her, bag swinging from his arm with a casual grace. Alone and far from her earlier mania, Y/N was increasingly shy. She seemed almost embarrassed by her actions.

“Come on,” said Kuroo.

“I’m sorry,” she shook her head sharply, hands tightening into fists at her side, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just worried about Fuku.”

Y/N glanced down at her wrist, which was slightly swollen and a raw red that would surely give way to a bruise come morning. Kuroo was quiet; so was Y/N. Both trapped within their own minds, riding spiraling thoughts.

“Can I ask—” Y/N lifted her gaze and met his. He hesitated and then rambled forth, “—what’s so special about the cat?”

“Of course, you can.” Silence. He stared at her. She stared back. “Oh, that was you asking.”

“Yeah.” A smile tugged at his lips.

“Fuku is lucky.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, I hardly know you.”

“Fair enough.”

“Hmm.”

“So, Kai and you seem to get along. Have you been friends long?”

“Since first year.”

“That’s nice. Bet he asked you to come to a ton of volleyball games.”

“Uhh, no, not really.”

This was awkward. Too awkward. What did he say? Volleyball was his usual go-to topic, but she seemed uninterested. The sky above them was overcast and gray, dark clouds edging over the horizon. His grandfather should be home. Maybe, they could offer Y/N a ride if it started raining, but he hoped that she would be gone before then.

“Kuroo, you’ve never had a girlfriend, have you?” she said. A stunned look came over his face as his mouth fell open slightly. Nonsensical words fell from his mouth as he attempted to stutter out an answer. Y/N scrunched her nose.

“What? Why are you asking that?”

“Hinako—she’s the class president—always says you’re ‘very mature’ when we’re in the locker room, but you’re kinda odd.”

Heat spread across his nose and cheeks. If the world worked the way he wanted it to, it would open up and swallow him at this moment. They stopped in front of a tall narrow house that hid a wide backyard. His grandmother was seated on the front stairs, tending to a pot of roses. She looked up as they approached. Her eyes flickered towards Y/N and back to him; a wide smile stretched across her face.

“Tetsu, did you bring a friend over?”

Y/N bowed low. “I’m L/N Y/N. Kuroo-san found my cat Fuku. I’m sorry if she caused you any trouble the last few weeks.”

“She’s been the sweetest cat,” she stood and stretched. “Come inside, have you eaten? I hope Tetsurou hasn’t been making any trouble for you.”

“Obaa-chan, she’s going to get Fuku and leaving,” Kuroo groaned. His grandmother paid no attention to his words. She dusted off her apron and ushered Y/N into the house. He followed behind slowly. His grandfather was seated on the floor, watching a game of football on the television. The sharp, crisp smell of lemon filled his nose. The floors are still slightly wet from when his grandmother had cleaned them.

“Oi, Tetsu, a girl?”

“No, Ojii-san. She’s here for Fuku.”

From the kitchen, he heard the crack of an egg and the sizzle of butter. Y/N would not leave without a full belly. Y/N was telling a shortened version of her story. He winced when Y/N mentioned having gone to Junior High with him. There would be no end to the questions later.

“A cat?”

“Her cat. Climbed a tree and everything looking for her. I almost had a heart attack when she came by our classroom window.”

His grandfather laughed: a laugh that immediately warmed the room.

“Fuku,” crooned Y/N. The cat hissed and crawled underneath his bed. Y/N followed. In his head, he ran over the last time he had cleaned his room. Hadn’t Kenma thrown his ramen cups down there at one point? Kuroo had the nasty habit of leaving his laundry everywhere. He prayed that all his underwear were in the hamper.

“Ahh, fuck. Ow…”

“You ok?”

She wiggled out from under the bed, a thin layer of dust covered her uniform and hair. Her cheeks puffed out and Y/N held her arm out to him, showing the red scratches that now covered her arm.

“Is she not your cat?”

“She is. It’s Fuku…she’s being difficult.”

He didn’t quiet understand. A cat was a cat, it exhibited certain animalistic behaviors, but it was still domesticated. Fuku never really scratched anything, just the occasional paper and bedsheet. Why would she attack Y/N? Ruby ran over the slightly swollen cuts. It was on her wrist too, the one she had hurt climbing the tree at school.

“Shit—sit by my desk. I’ll get you some band aids.”

“It’s alright. Fuku didn’t scratch that deep. I think she’s had a bit of trouble recognizing me after being gone for so long.” Her voice was brittle, caught with unshed tears. There was a story behind the cat that Y/N wasn’t ready to share that. Kuroo should be more curious, but he’s still reeling for the girl who emerged at dinner—funny and sharing stories with his grandfather that are equally rowdy as the best of his.

Fuku crawled out from under the bed, padding to his side. Her tail wrapped around his ankle. Kuroo bent and picked her up, holding her out to Y/N. Fuku struggled in his grip and escaped the moment his hands loosened.

Y/N’s face fell. Kuroo’s sure he wasn’t meant to catch the flash of genuine distress that crossed her face.

“I think it’s best she stays here for the night,” Y/N said. Her earlier merriment has all but faded. “Can I try again tomorrow?”

Kuroo doesn’t think twice before agreeing.

“Dad?” she called. No answer. The door was locked, his shoes gone.

Y/N had not seen her father for many days. Since her mother had died, he had become a ghost. Coming and going at odd hours. Choosing to sleep in his office rather than his bedroom. There are nights when she woke and found him pouring over old photo albums. She despised his silence and hated her own cowardness. She cannot put a name to the feeling that cropped up when her thoughts wondered to her mother. Her stomach pulled and tugged, and she felt ready to shout. Even school and her books were not enough to distract her.

What she really wanted was her mother back. Instead, she lived in a quiet state of discomfort, torn between aiding her grieving father and acknowledging that her mother was gone.

She ventured further into the house. Everything was a reminder of her mother. The wallpaper redone when they first learned of her illness. The couches belonged to her mother’s mother. The kitchen sat unused for many months. Y/N did not know how to cook and most of her afternoons were spent in the hospital by her mother’s side. It was unfair that she had to face the reminder every day while her father hid from it.

“Guess, it’s just me,” Y/N muttered. Fuku’s water bowl evaporated in the weeks she was gone. Y/N shuffled toward the kitchen and took a water pitcher to refill it. One day, she would come back. Y/N would pry her out of Kuroo’s hands if she had too.

��Five years ago, her mother had arrived home, soaked and sniffling with a tiny kitten clutched between her hands. Y/N’s father, half exasperated, half charmed, scolded her as he helped her warm up. They seemed so content with one another and lost in a world only the two of them knew. When Y/N remembered her parents together, she remembered that day.

Maybe that was why she felt so desperate to get Fuku back. Fuku was just a cat, but she held a small piece of what Y/N had lost. Her life had become disjointed fragments that Y/N couldn’t reassemble.

Some days slid by in a haze: warm, cold, good, and bad. She felt as if she had lost something greater than just her mother. A piece of her had shriveled. She tossed her jacket on the couch. She climbed the stairs. She slept and woke again. The same endless cycle.

He missed the train that morning. Kenma was down with a slight fever and his stop at the convenience store to pick up medicine had set his schedule off. Now, trapped between a crowd of salarymen, Kuroo tried to inch forward. If he missed this train, he would miss morning practice entirely.

The hiss and rumble of a train engine was a sound that normally would put Kuroo to sleep. On long trips they took to training camps or practice matches, he looked forward to the naps he’d take on the train. Though it was rare that he could sleep for longer than an hour, given his team.

His eyes skim the platform, stopping on a familiar figure. So, Y/N took this train too. His father attempted to drive her home last night, but she insisted that she lived nearby and left in such a hurry that Kuroo got scolded for letting her go alone.

He thought that she looked lonely. Hadn’t he looked like that too once? Before he met Kenma, Kuroo was shy and nervous. Tokyo was huge, full of smoke and buildings taller than any Kuroo had ever seen. And, his mother was gone. It was years since he thought of his early grief over her death. His grandparents, father, and friends all helped ease the pain.

A train passed by; a gust of hot wind followed its trail. Kuroo inched forward. Y/N still hadn’t seen him. Her head was tucked down, nose buried in a thick book. What a nerd.

“L/N?” he called.

She didn’t react. The page flipped. Kuroo hovered near her awkwardly. She liked her cat, maybe that would get her talking. Or he could scare her. As he’s about to creep next to her, her gaze lifted and met his. Kuroo coughed and pressed his hands behind his back.

“You look like a con-man,” said Y/N.

Kuroo’s face twisted, “Ehh, I swear you’re out to get me or something.”

“No, I just pay attention. It’s not hard.” The book snapped closed. The corners of her eyes tightened. “How is Fuku?”

“Are you still mad she likes me more than you?”

Her lips pursed. “She does not!”

“I’m pretty sure she wanted to stay with me. Maybe you’re a dog person?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you. Why are you taking this train? Where is Kozume-san?”

“Are you a stalker? Cause, I don’t have any kind of inheritance or anything. My death will be worth nothing.”

“No. I take the same train and you’re incredibly loud. Far too loud for the morning.”

“Late start?”

“I was up late.”

Their train pulled into the station. A swarm of people step on, all dressed in various suits and ties, heading deeper into the city where they’ll work until sunset. Kuroo pressed his hand against the door and let Y/N step in first. That was the day Kuroo and Y/N became friends. Kuroo never truly knew how much she needed someone those days.

Their friendship came like a crack in a dam, first a slow trickle of water than all at once. Kuroo was slightly stunned by how seamlessly Y/N fit into his life. There are times when he’s surprised by aspects of her personality. A ruthlessness came out during their economics classes and they’ve become known for their frequent debates during history. Y/N took her lunches with Kai or her other friends, but there are days when she joined him and Kenma, exchanging quick words over coding, game theory and design.

One Monday, he dropped a smoothie by her desk. He’d never seen her drink anything but her bottled green tea, but it felt like the right thing to do that morning.

“I’m not letting you copy my homework,” she said, dryly, “What’s in this?”

“Strawberry, apple, ginger and spinach.”

“Sounds disgusting healthy,” she said. Taking a sip, she made a face at the sharp aftertaste of ginger. “Do you actually need the homework?”

“This is a college prep class, we’re not all slackers,” he said. He knocked his knuckles on her desk, pulling a sheet of her math homework over and flapping it in the air. She grimaced, remembering the half an hour she spent trying to figure out why her answer to number seven was wrong.

“Just checking,” she answered, snatching the worn sheet back and tucking it into her folder.

“Wanna be our manager?” he asked. The words slipped out before he realized, but Kuroo didn’t regret asking.

“Really?”

He thought about it. “Yeah, it’d be nice to have someone help with all the planning.”

“But shouldn’t you ask your team first?”

“I’m the captain. Yaku and Kai already know you, Kenma too.”

Y/N didn’t look like she would say no. In fact, she seemed a bit pleased at being asked. Someone—Takashi no doubt—knocked his bag over as they made their way to their seat. He didn’t get an answer, but Kuroo formulated a plan to get her to do it. He had a feeling that Coach Nekomata would help her, the same way he had helped Kuroo—or maybe being around the team would take away some of the despair that crossed her face when she thought he wasn’t looking.

“I have a question,” she said, leaning forward. Her eyes gave nothing away. The flat line of her mouth reminded him of her expression when she came across a particularly hard math problem.

“Well, what is it?”

“What’s with the hair?” she asked flatly. Instinctively, his hand rose up to try and flatten the mess. Bedhead. A case so severe he’d never figured out just what to do with it. Rumors had spread around the school about his nighttime activities giving him an unsavory reputation when it came to dating. None of it was true, but once the rumors had started, there was no real way to end them. The truth was that his hair was a result of too many pillows and constant movement while sleeping.

“It’s not what you think,” he blurted out. “I’ve tried to get rid of it. Nothing works. I live my life in a constant state of dishevelment.”

“Just sleep like a normal person?” she suggested.

“I do!”

“Of course, you do.”

“What are you doing here?” Kuroo asked. The look of mock surprise fell away and a slow smirk grew on his face. “Curiosity finally go to you?” he asked.

Y/N didn’t answer, waving her hand in the air to draw him closer. He pointed at himself, mocking her silent request. She did it again, rolling her eyes as he slowly sauntered forward.

“Closer,” she murmured. He inched nearer; body angled toward her. Before he could dodge, her fingers latched onto his ear, pulling him down to her level. A yelp left his mouth, and his body twitched, trying to get away from her hands.

“Did I agree to be your manager?”

“That hurts,” he whined. She let him go, cheeks puffing out in annoyance. Nekoma had been a volleyball powerhouse for years, but they had an astonishingly bad record when it came to keeping a manager. Having witnessed his teammates practice, it was no wonder why. They were loud, rambunctious and whoever was their manager needed to be able to deal with the multiple personalities that were on the team. Dodging Kuroo’s insanity, Yaku’s temper, Lev’s wild arms, and the rogue spikes that would no doubt leave bruises was too much for any one person.

“First fight?” Yaku muttered, passing by them. Y/N stuck up her middle finger which he mimicked seconds later, sending a mocking smile in her direction.

“So, you’ll do it?” Kuroo asked, drawing her attention back to him. “We don’t expect you to show up to every practice. I know you have your own stuff to deal with afterschool and we don’t want to get in the way of that. But having someone at our games to help out would be better than nothing.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Other than getting to spend more time with me?”

“Yes, other than that,” she said, rolling her eyes. Kuroo’s smile fell, lips twisting to the side. Pressing a hand to her shoulder, he leaned down, so they were eye-level. She wondered if there was some spirit in Nekoma that lent that cat-like glint to everyone’s eyes or if it was an aftereffect of spending so much time at the school.

“Think of your college resume,” he said seriously.

“That just makes me want to say no.” A soft laugh left her, nose scrunching.

“What do you want then?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“When you do, let me know. I’ll make sure you get it, whatever it is,” he promised.

The air in Tokyo was crisp and brought with it the sweet smell of summer and freshly burnt wood. The sun inched past the horizon, giving way to the thick velvet of a star strewn sky. Y/N pulled her jacket closer, looking at the rising form of Tokyo’s Skytree. The streets seemed so familiar it left her with the annoying nag of déjà vu. Curling her fingers into her fist, Y/N pushed away the familiar ache of pain that she often ignored.

Her father walked on ahead of her, head hanging low, shoulders slumped. In a couple of months, Y/N would reach the one-year mark. One year without her mother and then the gap would grow. She’d never admit to her father, that there were times where she missed her mother so much that she was left with a void of sorrow that did nothing but grow endlessly. He missed her too. It was strewn across his face at the oddest of moments. Once when he had been scolding her for coming home late after practice, he had stopped in the middle, face sagging with grief. Those looks seared into Y/N’s mind, reminding her at every moment just how much they had lost.

“It should be up here,” he muttered, turning to face her with a small smile. Y/N nodded, mutely. Following his quick strides, she pushed her hands into her pockets, poking one finger out of the forgotten hole. A trail of lanterns began to light the sky. Her father paused, offering her his shaking hand. Grasping it tightly, she linked elbows with him, pressing against his side.

A small temple was tucked away into an old square that was a remnant of the days before Tokyo had been made capital. The streets were lined with stalls, selling fishcakes, yakitori, and other festival foods. All around them families dressed in summer yukatas passed. The smell of burning fires wafted in the air. Y/N felt slightly undressed. Ahead, waiting between the gate of the temple was a familiar figure.

“Kuroo?” she asked. He stood at the entrance of the temple with his family. Both of his grandparents were wearing yukata, heavily embroidered but made of thin fabrics.

“Oi, Y/N—” He froze at the sight of her father and offered a quick, polite bow. “You should have said you were coming; I would have waited for you.”

“I…my father and I wanted to come together.”

“Is this a classmate?” her father asked.

“Kuroo Tetsurou, sir. Y/N and I are friends.”

“He’s the one who found Fuku,” said Y/N. Her father frowned. She wondered if he also missed their cat. Or maybe, he was startled by the news that Fuku had been missing.

“I’ll go ahead, Y/N,” he said. Before she could stop him, her father disappeared up the steps of the temple. Y/N sighed.

Kuroo stared at her, his brows pinched together. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s our first time coming without my mother,” she explained, wringing her hands nervously. Understanding flickered across Kuroo’s face. Hands, slightly calloused but smooth, pressed over hers. The warm touch anchored her. Y/N breathed sharply, instantly seeking out the broken bits of comfort she could find. It wasn’t fair to Kuroo though, to burden him with her grief. She pulled away.

“Y/N.”

She looked in the distance where the shadow of her father stalked.

“Look at me.”

“I should go.”

“My mom died when I was seven.”

She froze. Kuroo moved closer, calm but steady as if trying to stop a wild animal from fleeing. She felt like that; caught in the snare of his words.

“We can’t compare griefs. But, when I lost her, I felt like the world had shattered. You don’t need to pretend to be happy…not with me.”

Her lip quivered. She said in a small voice, “I miss her.”

The sun burned past the horizon; around them a thousand voices spoke over one another. Kuroo stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug. She breathed in sharply and held on tight, as if to trap his comfort in her grip. Thank you, she wanted to say. Kuroo swayed slightly and she knew that he could hear her unspoken words.

Y/N did not become their manager. Not officially at least. She tended to show up to practice only to follow him home and attempt to coax Fuku into coming home with her. The day she succeeded was bright and sunny. Kuroo was half listening to her story about how Yamamoto and Kenma had been fighting while he was in the locker rooms.

His mind was spirling down a dangerous path. Kuroo found himself entirely focused on Y/N. He doesn’t understand why. She didn’t seem remotely interested in him. He had no time to waste, twisting his throughs over a girl. But, as much as he tried to avoid thinking of her that way, he found himself entertaining the same line of thought over and over again.

“Sorry what?” he asked, realizing that she was waiting for an answer.

Y/N laughed. “Coach Nekomata told me you had a training camp?”

“Oh, yeah. If you come, you can finally meet Bokuto. And Tsukki. And all the rest.”

“How tempting, me and a bunch of mangers cleaning up your sweat.”

As they reached his house, Y/N bounded forward to greet his grandmother. Sometimes he was convinced she was only friends with him, so she would be fed. The amount of bentos he had brought to school for her exceeded normal standards.

“Obaa-san, it isn’t good for you back to be hunched over the plants like that,” Y/N scolded. She helped his grandmother up the stairs, chatting all the while.

Kuroo followed them into the house. Y/N didn’t bother going upstairs first. While her mother was sick, Y/N had been home alone often and forced to cook. Sheepishly, she admitted she wasn’t any good at it and his grandmother had taken pity on her.

Occasionally, Kenma and the team came over to try her latest creations. They were lucky they weren’t subjected to the daily disasters he was. Once they are fed and watered, Kuroo and her ventured upstairs. His grandfather tossed a wicked look his way as they head toward his room.

Fuku was surprisingly receptive to Y/N and approached her on her own. Usually, Kuroo would need to pick her up first and give her to Y/N.

“Fuku, come on, girl. Don’t you want to eat tuna at home?” Y/N said. Fuku inched closer and then clawed at Y/N’s tights. Surprise and then a bright smile stretched on her face.

She picked up Fuku, cooing all the while the way a mother did with her child. It felt like the ending of a book.

But, Y/N looked happy for the first time she had met him. Not the fake happiness she wore like a mask. He found himself grinning for no good reason, other than she had smiled. While she was distracted, he studied her face committing it to memory. Eyes brighter than the stars, deeper than water, and lined with affection. Going forward, he hoped that she looked like this all the time.

“Y/N, you’re happy, aren’t you?”

“Right now?” She turned and lifted Fuku up into her arms. She softened her expression, crackling with a warm energy. “You make me happy, Kuroo.”

It slowly dawned on him that while he was staring, she had caught his gaze. Lost in his thoughts, he felt no embarrassment, nor did Y/N look upset. It looked more like she was waiting for something.

He wanted to tell her that he liked her—not the way one like a friend, but he liked the way she spoke, every word measured and certain. Or the way she remembered things he had mentioned only once. Or the way she knew what he was asking before he asked her. He liked her calmness, her banter, how she would do anything for the things she loved, and the slight madness that he both encouraged and hated. His words failed him.

Kuroo didn’t want anything to change. If he told her and she rejected him, would their friendship be over? Besides, what could he offer her? Y/N still grieved over her mother. What kind of man would he be to take advantage of that for his own gain?

He closed his eyes for a moment. Y/N sat next to him on the bed and rested her head on his shoulder. Fuku curled up in her arms. Her closeness was the sweetest, bitterest thing he had ever known.

#kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #Kuroo Tetsurou #kuroo imagine #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu reader

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shurelyasreverie · 3 years

Text

Twisted Fate x Reader: Wanna Bet?

After a successful heist, you and Twisted Fate play cards to pass away the time, but it seems that money isn't the prize Tobias has on his mind...

Word Count: 1654

The life of a thief and mercenary was not an easy one, but it had its perks. The thrill of living on the edge, fighting nail and tooth for precious gold and jewels made this life addictive, especially with two reliable comrades that stood by your side through thick and thin. Tobias Felix had the charm, Malcolm Graves had the brawn, and most importantly, you had the common sense to not get yourself killed. Combined, you were an unstoppable force, shown again today through another successful heist that got you plenty of gold for you to throw away at the local pub.

Taking a table at the corner, you and Tobias had barely gone through a glass as Graves already finished a bottle of the heavy duty stuff, sending him slumped on a chair, dead to the world.

“It's been less than ten minutes and Grave's already a goner,” you groaned as you finished a shot glass.

“Well he don't look like he'll be causing any trouble tonight,” Tobias mused, sliding an already prepared shot to you.

“Cheers,” you mumbled in thanks as you took the new glass, about to down it until you hesitated. You looked at Tobias sceptically, the entire time his enigmatic smile was plastered on his face. You slammed the glass down. “Oh no, no, no. I'm not falling for that old trick again.”

“Whatever do you mean?” His voice had a light lilt, feigning ignorance.

“You get me drunk just so I'll agree to play cards with you, then I end up losing half my gold because of you,” you groaned as many regretful memories plagued your mind. You rubbed your temples, both the alcohol and memories causing a headache.

“Today might be your lucky day, you could end up winning against me.”

“Are you kidding me? Your skill and magic with cards is literally your selling point. It's your only selling point.”

“You wound me,” he frowned teasingly. You cursed yourself for feeling weak to his deep, reverberating voice as he chuckled. It was the alcohol's fault, right? Right.

“Anyway, why do you keep bothering me about cards? What's the point if you know you're going to win?”

“Just because I win doesn't mean it ain't a challenge,” Tobias corrected. “You're good with whatever hand you're given.”

“Play with Graves then.”

“He's too dumb,” he responded plainly. “Anyway, does he look like he's in a state to play?”

He pointed to the passed out form next to you.

“Point taken but I'm still not playing,” you grumbled, leaning back and crossing your arms. “Our heist went well and we got good money from it. I refuse to lose it all in the first night.”

“Fine...” Tobias huffed but after a brief moment he leaned back with a signature smirk on his face, already shuffling a deck of cards. “But how about this? We play but we don't bet money. I promise.”

“You don't keep your promises.”

“I've kept the ones I've made with you,” he pointed out. You had to give him that, you don't remember him ever breaking a promise but you barely remember him making any promises in the first place.

“Fine. What're we dealing with, then?”

His smile widened as he started to deal the cards. “I don't normally bet on this 'cause it requires trust. But I trust you.”

“A dangerous choice but I'm honoured.”

“I want your honesty,” Tobias announced and you raised your eyebrows. “I ask you a question and you answer wholeheartedly and entirely truthfully. Can you promise me that?”

You downed another shot as you contemplated.

“Sure.”

“That's what I like to hear,” he smirked.

Unsurprisingly, you lost, and quickly too.

“And here I was thinkin' you'd put up more of a fight,” he mused as he collected the cards and shuffled.

“I figured we'd be playing multiple games so I'm conserving energy,” you retorted and Tobias nodded in amusement.

“Fair.”

“So... your prize?”

“Ah, of course. I'll make this easy for you first. Ease you into it,” Tobias stopped shuffling to watch you. “Answer me honestly: what do you think of the pants Graves bought today?”

You pulled a face before instantly covering it up. “Well, I mean- he's wanted those things for ages... he was very happy with them.”

“Honesty, sweetheart,” Tobias reminded and your heart raced at the name as you cleared your throat. You sent a cautious glance over to a passed out Graves. You snapped your fingers by each of his ears, clapped your hands in front of his face and then lightly slapped him.

Not a peep.

Knowing now he'll never hear your answer, you leaned into Tobias. “I hate the ghastly things. They're a crime to all things good on this earth, I haven't seen anything uglier and at that price? You've got to be kidding me.”

By the time you were done with your rant, Tobias had a fist to his mouth, suppressing his laughter.

“I ain't ever seen you so passionate about anything before,” he mustered as he picked up his new hand of cards. You did the same.

“He was just so happy when he got them, I couldn't tell him what I truly thought,” you sighed as you put down a card.

“And what do you think of my looks?”

As he placed a card for his turn your eyes scanned Tobias up and down. Purely for noting his attire, and definitely not to admire his figure and features.

“You dress fine. It seems to work well for you, anyway,” you replied.

“Meaning?”

“If your clothes were ugly, your charm wouldn't work,” you explained. “But it seems no one has complaints about what you wear. Hell, a lot of people probably like it.”

Tobias hummed thoughtfully. “That so? Lady Luck's blessed me with a lotta things but she didn't give me no luck on the dating scene.”

“I think that's less Lady Luck and more just you being unfaithful.”

“Aw, come now. I ain't that bad.”

“Prove it.”

“You free tomorrow night?”

“Not like that,” you groaned as Tobias laughed.

“Ah... and would you look at that, I've won again.”

“I really shouldn't have agreed to this,” you grumbled as you chucked the rest of your hand onto the pile of cards.

“Now, tell me,” he leaned forward. “Who do you prefer? Me or Graves?”

“What?” You frowned. “Listen, you're both my partners in crime. We're a trio. I rely on both of you equally. Malcolm might be an idiot sometimes but he's a good, trustworthy bloke. Honestly, I admire him. Sometimes.”

“... I see,” Tobias nodded and he leaned back. He didn't inquire any further and you raised your eyebrows at his sudden solemnness. He idly rearranged and shuffled the cards as he seemed lost in thought. You sighed, figuring to give him the honesty you promised to give him.

“That being said, I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel closer to you.”

“Oh?”

You nodded, saying no more. The three of you had each other's backs but it always felt a little more meaningful knowing Tobias was by your side. How he seemed to always know the right things to say to keep you motivated, encouraging you forward with a firm hand on the small of your back. You bit your lip, making sure you didn't voice your thoughts to him. Your words already seemed to have impacted him regardless, cards already dealt for a new game with his smirk back on his face.

“You're playin' better than before,” Tobias observed.

“I feel the next question is going to be a big one,” you replied, sending a wink. Tobias cleared his throat in response, hurriedly putting down a card.

After a few minutes of silence, another card was placed down and Tobias leaned back in his chair with a smug look on his face. You frowned at his empty hand before sighing in resignation.

“Right, what do you want to know?” You took a pint of ale, bringing it to your lips.

“Would you date me?”

You almost spat out your drink. Eyes wide, you searched Tobias' face, wondering if he was lying. But there was no teasing smile, instead he was dead serious, his dark eyes burning into yours.

“I- what sort of question is that?”

“I want to know what you think of me,” he replied frankly.

“You're great,” you answered quickly.

“But would you date me? Remember your promise.”

“Why do you want to know?” You pouted.

“I think you can figure it out,” he cooed, bringing his face closer to yours. Frozen in place, you couldn't lean away. His nimble fingers took your chin, making you look at him. “Work partners ain't enough for me. I'm hopin' Lady Luck might help me out with you. So... what do you say?”

“I say...” you leaned forward, pressing your lips against his. Although when you tried to pull away, the grip on your chin tightened as Tobias kissed you back. Whenever you tried to part for air, his lips chased yours, only relenting as you placed a hand to his chest with a giggle.

“I love you,” you admitted.

“Dangerous words, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “Soon enough you'll be beatin' me in the charm department.”

The moment was interrupted by the slow clapping of Graves, making you practically shove Tobias away as heat rushed to your face. Since when was he awake?

“About goddamn time,” Graves grumbled as he stood up. “I'll get some new drinks, it's on me to celebrate the new happy couple.”

#oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #drabble #lol #league of legends #league of legends imagine #league of legends x reader #twisted fate #league of legends twisted fate #twisted fate x reader #x reader #self insert #y/n #fluff #shurelyasreverie

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walkerwords · 3 years

Text

“The Savior Sessions” Part 29 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: While Daryl and the others are fighting their way through Alpha’s trap, the reader comes face to face with their fear as Beta enters Alexandria.

Word Count: 4826

Warning: Swearing, Violence

Song I Wrote To: “Seven Nation Army” by The White Stripes

Note: So, this scene is a bit different. Judith is not in Alexandria at the moment as she’s with her mom in Hilltop. I am not removing Michonne from the story like she is in the show. So, this fight is gonna play out a bit different!

-------

Arriving back home in Alexandria, Enid words followed you.

She was right, Lydia should not have been out there alone and it would be your fault if she got hurt or worse, fell back into the hands of her mother.

Even as you walked down the darkening streets of Alexandria, there was a part of you that didn’t care if Alpha took more lives and that terrified you. You loved your friends, your family, but if collateral damage was necessary for Beta and Alpha to die, then so be it.

The bitter taste in your mouth followed you as you walked towards home. When you noticed Rosita pacing outside the cell, you slowed.

“What are you doing?” you asked. Rosita looked up at you and then walked forward wrapped her arms around you.

Confused, you hugged her back before letting go. “Ro?” you asked again.

“Sorry, I’m just… A lot has been happening,” she said.

“Like what? I wasn’t gone that long.”

“Gamma is here,” Rosita said, gesturing towards the cell.

“What?” you asked, glancing towards the small window.

“She arrived earlier, said she wants to help us,” Rosita said.

“And you believe her?”

“I don’t know. That’s why she’s locked up,” Rosita explained.

“You think she’s another spy?”

“No,” Rosita said, shaking her head. “Though, I don’t know what to do with her. I keep thinking about when Dwight switched sides.” Nodding, you understood where she was coming from. Dwight had given you valuable information that helped you win the war against Negan and his men.

“Dwight had someone he cared about pushing him forward,” you reminded her. “Sherry was everything to him.”

“Gamma has her nephew,” Rosita reminded you and you knew she was right. Earl had taken in the Whisperer baby after Connie had saved him from his mother abandoning him in the sorghum field.

“Is Adam enough?” you asked.

“I hope so,” Rosita said. “I don’t know if we can win this fight without her help.”

“Is that willingness I hear, Espinosa?” you asked.

“It just might be, (Y/L/N),” Rosita countered.

“Well, what does Daryl think? Michonne?”

“Michonne is a bit MIA at the moment. She’s travelling from Oceanside or to Oceanside, I don’t really know. Daryl however, is gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone?” you asked, suddenly concerned.

“He, Jerry, Aaron, Connie, Kelly, Magna, and Carol got a lead on the horde. They went looking for it,” Rosita explained and you could see that she was worried as well. Sighing, you rubbed at your temples. This was why Carol had wanted you home. She needed someone to watch the front lines so she could go find Alpha’s Walkers.

“They should have waited for me,” you said, clenching your fists.

“I think one unstable person is enough,” Rosita mumbled and then realized what she said.

“Nice,” you quipped, storming past her.

“(Y/N)!” Rosita tried, but you kept walking, not wanting to hear what she had to say. You weren’t stupid, you knew that you had been acting irrationally. That much was clear and you could see that when it came down to it, you were not thinking clearly. However, you couldn’t get Beta’s face out of your head.

It would be a cold day in Hell before you let him win. Then again, you felt as if the last decade had been Hell on Earth. Still, you pushed on, ignoring the worried looks of your friends as you headed to your house.

Gabriel was coming out of Rosita’s house as you passed the front steps and he looked as if he was going to say something, but didn’t. Considering how pissed you were, he must have figured it was better to give you a moment alone.

Shoving open your front door, you let it slam behind you. You went straight to your garage. The overhead gaslight illuminated the myriad of maps laid out on your workbench only reminded you of the failure you had experienced when trying to find Negan. Lashing out, you swept your hand across the table, scattering the maps across the map.

Bracing your hands on the table, you struggled to keep it together. “I really need you,” you whispered to the empty room. A single tear dripped onto the old wood and you scrubbed the second from your cheek. Your knees sunk to the floor as you began to feel the loss of him again.

“He’s not dead,” you reminded yourself. “He’s out there.” Even as you encouraged yourself, Negan’s face remained behind your eyes. Negan being alive was the only thing that was keeping you going.

Sitting there on the floor of your garage, you thought back to a conversation you had during the war against the Saviors with the one and only Rick Grimes.

Eight Years Ago…

“Hey, Boss,” you said as you walked into Rick’s house.

“You don’t have to call me that,” Rick said with a small smile.

“Ah, well, it’s a force of habit. You are, in fact, our boss. One that I am more than willing to follow.”

“Well, thank you, (Y/N),” he said.

“So, what’s up?” you asked, hopping up on the counter of his kitchen.

“I need your advice on something,” he said.

“Is this about Dwight?” you asked. “Because if it is, then I have to tell you that I don’t trust the weasel, no matter what he told Daryl.”

“It’s not,” Rick said with a small frown. “It’s about Negan,” he said.

“What about him?”

“Carl thinks that he’s more than we think,” Rick said.

“More than a psychopath who murdered our friends?” you asked, not liking where this is going.

“Carl thinks we can reason with him.”

“And I think that the dinosaurs are going to come back,” you deadpanned. Rick gave you one of his looks, but you weren’t deterred by it. “Come on, Grimes, you don’t actually think that we can resolve all of this by a damn conversation, do you?”

“I want the killing to stop,” Rick said.

“I know, I know,” you said. “I just don’t want you to lose focus.”

“You think I should kill him?” Rick asked, but you paused. Taking a moment, you reviewed everything that had happened since the Satellite Station.

“I think,” you began, “that you should do whatever is necessary to protect our people.”

“What if that doesn’t include killing Negan?” Rick asked.

“Then it doesn’t,” you said with a shrug. “Look, I don’t know the man. I haven’t had the opportunity to actually speak to him or see what’s behind the cocky grin so I can’t speak on his character. I believe in a person’s actions and so far, Negan’s have been horrendous. Do I think that maybe one day he can be a decent person? Yeah, sure. I don’t think anyone is truly lost, but the future is a long ways away and we need to think about surviving now.”

Rick was quiet for a moment before he looked back up at you and nodded. He then reached out and gripped your forearm and you mirrored the movement. “Thanks, Shots,” Rick said, using Carl’s nickname for you.

“I’m always gonna be here, Rick. I ain’t never leaving you behind,” you promised. Rick smiled at you.

“I know,” he said. “You never leave anyone behind. That’s why I love you so much, kid.”

“Not a kid,” you reminded him.

“Shut up and take the compliment,” he said and then you pushed him back. Rick feigned surprised and then pushed you back. The two of you ended up wrestling in the kitchen, laughing the entire time. Regardless of what was to come, you would be by his side as one of his closest friends and that was all that mattered.

--------

A loud thud pulled you from your thoughts.

You waited, listening, and when you heard it again, you grabbed your sword and slipped out the side door, picking up a spare radio on the way.

Pausing out front of your house, you searched the darkness around you. Something felt off and it made your skin crawl. Drawing your blade from its scabbard, you began to walk along the sidewalk, checking around every corner you could find. Your heart was hammering in your chest, but your breath remained steady. You were trying to rationalize that it could have been anything. Maybe a stray animal had gotten in and couldn’t get out. However, there was a part of your brain that knew how ridiculous that was.

You never got this particular feeling unless it was for a good reason, or rather, a bad one.

Slipping in between the houses, you searched darkened windows, checking in on your fellow Alexandrians, but everything seemed to be okay. That is until you came across a specific house. You could hear dull thuds as if someone was redecorating at the odd hour.

Sneaking up to the front window, you peered into the dark living room. Suddenly, a pair of white eyes and a gaping jaw appeared at the window, startling you. As the freshly-turned Walker fought to get to you through the pane of glass, you noticed the slash mark on its throat. One that a very particularly large blade would make.

“Shit,” you swore and pulled your radio as you stumbled back from the house. “Gabriel?” you whispered into the radio as you tried to get your nerve back.

“What is it?” he asked, answering your call.

“Walkers, there are Walkers inside the walls,” you said, finally turning away from the house.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Something’s wrong,” you whispered, looking around. It was then that you noticed a trail of fresh soil on the ground. If you hadn't been trained by the best tracker out there, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. However, the large boot prints in the soil only confirmed the fear in your mind. That fear turned to rage as your eyes began to scan for your target.

For Beta.

“(Y/N),” Gabriel said. “What is going on?” You went to answer him when you had a realization.

“Gamma,” you gasped as you took off running, letting the radio crash to the ground as you ignored Gabriel’s worried tone that crackled over the line. You pushed your legs harder to get to Michonne’s house as quickly as possible.

Throwing yourself down the cement steps, you burst into the jail that had its door broken down. When you beheld what was in front of you, however, you nearly crumbled to the ground. Instead of Gamma, you found Laura on the floor with blood across her face.

Sliding to her side, you grabbed for her face and neck, checking for a pulse. “Laura? Laura, wake up,” you begged. Her eyes opened weekly as she saw your face.

“(Y/N)?” she asked.

“I’m here,” you said, trying to wipe the blood from her face. Her blonde hair was soaked in her own blood as she struggled to stay awake. “It’s going to be okay,” you promised her. As you pulled back your hand, however, they were drenched in red.

“Beta,” she choked out as blood dripped from her lips. “Run,” she said, gripping at your shirt with weak fingers.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said to her as she kept staring into your eyes. “You’re not alone,” you whispered. Gripping her hands tight, you felt her trying to return the favor, but she was too weak. “Where is Gamma?” you asked her.

“Got her out,” Laura said. “Safe… I… Think…” she said just as a tear fell from her eye. “I, I can’t,” she struggled.

“Shh, don’t talk,” you said, trying to soothe her, but you didn’t have any more words of comfort to offer her. How could you tell her everything was going to be alright when he had done this?

“Eugene,” Laura sputtered, choking a bit. “Tell him, thank...you.”

“I will,” you promised as she reached for your face once more before her hand fell to her side and Laura drew her final breath. “No, no, no,” you cried as her pulse dwindled and then stopped altogether. “No!” you yelled, clutching her body to yours. It was as if the world stopped spinning. You knew that there wasn’t a guaranteed amount of time, you knew that and you had to finish it before she came back. There was a universal agreement across all the communities, nobody turned.

Pulling the knife from her belt, you quickly slipped it into the base of her skull, silencing her soul. As you pulled the blade, you fell into her again, hugging her close to you. Your tears mixed in with the dirt and blood on her skin as you clung to her, not ready to let go.

“I’m sorry,” you cried into her neck, holding onto her with dear life. “I’m so sorry.” As sorrow filled you, the anger began to boil over, nearly drowning you. Beta had done this. He had taken yet another person from you and probably enjoyed it too. Laura had been given a second chance after the war and he had stolen her life as if it meant nothing.

Gently placing her down onto the floor of the jail, you shut her eyes with your steady hand. Taking a deep breath, you got to your feet and gripped your sword tight. Looking down at Laura again, you felt your heart breaking, but you ignored the pain and channeled it into fury.

A loud crash came from above followed by a loud grunt. Turning from the body of your dead friend, you ran from the cell just to see Beta run from Michonne’s home, his knives in both his hands.

His large form was even more terrifying than you remembered. Daryl’s voice was in your head as you were reminded of what happened when Beta had fought him, but you weren’t Daryl and now, this was even more personal.

As Beta turned his focus to Rosita’s home, you attacked. Drawing a smaller knife from your boot, you reeled your arm back and threw with all your strength. The knife embedded itself into Beta’s shoulder, making him stumble from surprise. You ran at him with all the speed you had left in you.

Beta turned just as you raised your sword, aiming for his head. Beta ducked, parrying your blade with both of his. He knocked you back, but you returned with a strike aimed at his torso. Beta spun around, knocking you off balance, but you never stopped.

Trading blows back and forth, you finally had another opening and aimed for his throat. Beta blocked once again, leaning in close as your blades scraped against one another. Looking into his eyes, you didn’t show an ounce of fear, but recognition lit up in his eyes as he groaned against the pain in his shoulder.

“You,” he spat, his lips pulling back in a sneer.

“Yeah,” you said. “Me.” Beta roared in anger as he kicked at your stomach, sending you to the ground. Rolling to your feet, you slashed at his leg, cutting into the back of his thigh. Beta stumbled again but remained on his feet. “Did you get my message?” you asked, lowering yourself into a crouch.

He ran at you again, swinging his blades over your head. Ducking just in time, you avoided decapitation. “What did you do with Gamma?” you asked.

“Nothing,” Beta said and then braced himself. “Yet.”

As Beta stalked towards you, all you could think about was Jesus and Tara and Laura and everyone else they had taken from you.

Red encompassed your mind as Beta aimed for your heart. With a quick turn, you pivoted on your right foot, ducked under his arms, and brought your sword up along his back. Your blade bit into his flesh as the leather tore.

Beta yelled out in both pain and alarm as you drew your sword back. He whipped around, landing a blow to your head. You fell to the ground as stars danced in your vision. Beta kicked away your blade as it fell from your hand. Reaching down, he lifted you from the ground and got in your face.

“You are not worth death,” he spat in your face before throwing you against the curb. Your head hit hard and just before the darkness overwhelmed you, you swore you saw Beta smiling.

-------

Negan had no idea what Alpha was up to.

There were cryptic whispers around camp that led him to believe that Alpha had attacked Carol and the others, but he wasn’t sure of anything.

Then there was the Beta problem. Negan had no idea where the human Rottweiler had gone.

Alpha was across from him, staring into the fire and she looked to be waiting for something. Negan wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but whenever she was that calm, it was never good. Just as he was about to speak up and ask her what was going on, her attention snapped to the shadows as Beta finally reappeared.

Negan watched as the second-in-command arrived and he looked rough. Even in the dark, Negan could see that Beta was injured. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t think the Terminator douchebag could get injured, let alone bad enough to warrant a limp.

“Beta,” Alpha greeted as she didn’t move from her spot. Beta stopped before her, kneeling on the leg that seemed to be the less injured one.

“Gamma has betrayed us,” Beta reported. He then noticed that Negan was there, but Alpha kept her attention on her second, not caring about who was listening.

“What happened?” Alpha asked, looking at the fresh blood.

“She was hiding,” Beta said. “I couldn’t find her. These people are protecting her.” Negan had to hand it to Aaron, the man sure did know how to make friends. Negan continued to listen.

“And the blood?” Alpha asked tilting her head to examine the wounds he had sustained. Her fingers threaded through the torn jacket and Negan could see the blood on her hands as she pulled it back. “Yours?” she asked, confused.

“Ambushed,” Beta responded.

“The archer is with Carol,” Alpha said. “Who else could have done this?” she asked. Clearly Alpha thought that Daryl was the only worthy opponent to go up against Beta, Negan thought. However, she had never seen Rosita when she went all “Mama Bear” and Negan hoped that he himself would never be on the other end of one of Espinosa's fists.

“Broadsword,” Beta bit out, the rage echoing out of him like steam on a train. At that one word, Negan’s blood ran cold. He tucked his hands under his legs before either of them could see the small tremor that was sneaking up on him. Negan fought to keep himself from swearing out loud as he put the pieces together.

You had attacked Beta and you had nearly defeated him.

“Are they alive?” Alpha asked casually.

“For now,” Beta said. “I have plans for them. That one, dies by my hand.” Alpha nodded to him and then dismissed him to get his injured taken care of.

“What do you know about this sword-wielder?” Alpha asked him. Negan met her eyes and then relaxed further into the ground, shrugging one of his shoulders. With a lazy look on his face he vaguely waved a hand.

Beta huffed and disappeared back into the camp. Negan watched after him, trying to keep it together. He knew that you had placed your sights on Beta, but now the man was turning his on you and that terrified Negan.

“Absolutely nothing.”

-------

When you woke up, you were in a somewhat familiar room.

An ache in the back of your head made you wince as you tried to sit up.

“I would take it easy if I were you.” Blinking, you turned towards the soft voice to see Enid standing over you. It was then that you realized you were in the medical trailer at Hilltop. “Here,” she said, reaching for your arm. Enid helped you sit up, placing a few pillows behind your back.

“What happened?” you asked, trying to get your mind to stop racing.

“Beta knocked you out pretty hard,” she said with a sigh. “You hit your head and you’ve been out for almost two days.”

“Two days?” you asked.

“Siddiq brought you here to keep you off Beta’s radar,” she explained.

“That won’t last long,” you said with another wince as you rubbed at your temples.

Everything from that night was coming back in waves and it was making you feel a bit nauseous. Emotions swelled in your chest as you remembered the rage you felt when attacking Beta and the sorrow and dread you felt as Laura died in your arms.

Beta had done all of that just to find Gamma. A stranger had brought death back to Alexandria and you now had lost someone who truly understood you.

“Laura’s dead,” you whispered.

“I know,” Enid said, reaching for your hand. You squeezed hers back as you sat in silence.

“Where is she?” you asked. “Where is Gamma?”

“Safe,” a new voice said as Michonne approached you. She was looking at you with concern but also relief.

“Good,” you said, nodding. If Gamma had been taken or killed, all those lives lost the night Beta stalked Alexandria would have been for nothing. “I’m glad you’re here,” you said to Michonne.

“We’re all here,” Judith’s voice piped up as she appeared behind her mother.

“Hey, you,” you said, reaching out a hand to her. Judith walked forward and took your hand in hers. “I almost got him, kid. I was pretty damn close,” you promised her. Judith nodded as Michonne placed her hands on her shoulders.

“There’s something else, (Y/N),” Michonne said.

“What’s wrong?”

“Daryl’s missing.” You fell back into your pillows at the news and you fought the urge to scream. You didn’t know how much more of this you could handle. It was starting to look as if Alpha may win and that made you want to beat her that much more.

--------

Holding a mask made from Walker skin was the last thing Negan expected to receive from Alpha.

"You've earned it," Alpha said as she stood next to him. Standing next to her, he could see the blood that streaked her clothing. Something had happened when she went off on her own hours before. Negan figured she had been in a fight, but he couldn’t be sure who she had gone up against.

He did know that it wasn’t you. Beta was someone who would be a challenge for you, but Negan had a feeling that if you got Alpha one on one, she wouldn’t be standing next to him right now. No, this was someone else. Trying not to think about any of it, he returned to what was in his hands.

"Why?" Negan asked, not liking the way the leathery skin felt against his calloused hands.

"You were right about Gamma," Alpha said. She then stepped forward and ran her hand down his arm. "She was the spy. You proved yourself to me."

"All I did was share my opinion," Negan pointed out as he met her eyes. Alpha was examining him and Negan knew what she wanted. His hand slipped into his pocket to rub along the marble, keeping his connection to you.

"You showed me that you want this. You are a crass man, but a smart one. The mask proves my loyalty to you as your words proved it to me."

"Well alright then," Negan said with a small smile. With a shake of his head, Negan pulled on the mask and secured it behind his head.

He could appreciate the irony, the act of putting on a mask when he was already wearing one. As soon as it was in place, Alpha reached up and ran her hands over his new face.

"Perfect," she whispered. Negan stared down, afraid of what he may have to do in order to keep his cover. He had done a lot of shitty things in his life, but sleeping with the enemy was not something he was eager to do, not when he still yearned for you and your touch.

The way that you lay your hands on his skin was as if you were searching for solidity kept him sane. He was your rock, grounding you into this world just as you were his. Without you, Negan wouldn't want to survive and he just hoped you hadn't lost that love you held for him because he sure hadn't.

“Since we are trading trade secrets and all,” Negan began, causing Alpha to stop looming over him. “I had another idea.”

“Go on,” she said.

“I know you are all about destroying everyone and proving you’re the alpha female. Though it’s not like you need to, you are the damn Alpha.”

“Your point?” she pressed.

“How about we get them to join us?” Negan offered. “You were right when you said that these places with their walls and doors don’t last very long. I’ve seen many kingdoms fall since this whole shit show started and trust me, it’s only a matter of time. However, we get them to see how much better the way we live is…” Negan splayed his hands. “I’m just saying it would be something to think about.”

Alpha was silent for a moment, thinking over his words. Negan was just hoping that she didn’t see the true intentions behind this sudden epiphany. The truth was, after Beta had admitted that you had done some serious damage, Negan was not eager for Alpha to exterminate you and your family.

“What did you have in mind?” Alpha asked finally. Adjusting the mask on his face, Negan grinned at her.

“I have some ideas.” Alpha raised her eyebrow at that but gestured for him to keep talking. “First, we’re gonna need a big ass tree.”

-------

Enid had finally cleared you and you were eager to get back on your feet.

Walking out into the bright sunshine, Hilltop was bustling around you. You felt as if you had the worst hangover in history, but you pushed on. Dianne was on watch, Alden was over at his blacksmithing station, and you could see Ezekiel over at Barrington speaking to Kelly who looked distraught.

Aaron spotted you then and jogged over. “Hey, you’re okay,” he said, grabbing you into a hug.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you said, pushing him back. “What happened while I was out?” you asked, gesturing to Kelly. Aaron sighed, running his hand through his curls.

“Alpha, she trapped us in this cave full of Walkers. Her entire horde was down there,” he said. “We managed to find the exit, but…”

“But what?” you pressed.

“Carol tried to take out the horde with some old dynamite,” he said. “The explosion caused part of the cave to collapse.” The look on Aaron’s face told you enough.

“Who?”

“Magna and Connie are trapped down there and we don’t know if they’re even alive,” he said. You hadn’t known Magna that well, but you liked her enough. However, Connie had become someone you turned to at times and you knew how much Daryl cared about her. Not to mention her sister who was her everything. This was too much after just losing Laura and now two more may be down.

“Are you okay?” you asked him.

“Not really,” he admitted. You took him back into your arms, hugging him tightly.

“Me neither,” you admitted, sinking into the embrace.

“Open the gates!” you heard Dianne yell from her spot up top. You and Aaron split apart then and with a look, you both took off towards the main gate.

You let out a breath of relief as you saw who was walking into Hilltop. Daryl and Lydia leaned on each other as the gates shut behind him. Daryl seemed dead on his feet as Lydia struggled with both of their weapons. You ran forward and grabbed the crossbow from her as Aaron took hold of Daryl.

“Daryl fought her,” Lydia said as she breathed heavily. Daryl’s leg was bleeding, and he looked as if he had been run over by the horse and the carriage. Michonne came running behind you, helping Lydia stay on her feet.

“You’re a moron,” you said to Daryl, grabbing at his face. “But I love you.” Daryl snorted and then you were taking his other arm and helping him to Enid. Lydia followed close by as Michonne carried her staff for her. “I’m sorry, Lydia,” you said to her. “I shouldn’t have asked you to go looking.”

“It was my decision,” Lydia defended. “I didn’t find him, but we have a new problem.” You, Aaron, Michonne, and Daryl all looked at her then.

“What is it?” Michonne asked. Lydia grimaced.

“My mother’s coming.”

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#the walking dead #walkerwords #twd imagines #the walking dead imagines #twd #negan imagine #reader insert #savior sessions #the walking dead imagine #twd imagine

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