#i keep my room immaculate according to my friends

[neonjazzparty]

Finally updated my Meet the Artist

Fun fact: I am not a person but a concept

[url-is-under-construction]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭 ~ 𝐇.𝐋 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Based off the prompt:   “𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭. 𝐖𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬.”

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Swearing

𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: Family always came first to you. That’s why you moved to Tokyo with your baby brother despite being miserable every single day, until you met him.

If NYC was the city that never slept then Tokyo was it’s younger sibling who was constantly trying to outdo the elder child. You ignored your younger brother who sat beside you in the taxi, leaning your head against the window and admiring the bright neon lights that stood out against the black of the sky.

No stars were visible, and the noise of the city was audible from inside the taxi, grinding against your ears. You hated it.

“Y/n.” You yanked my head from the cool glass of the window, leaving it foggy in your absence as Sean gently called your name. “We’re here.”

It was then you noticed the taxi had come to a stop, in front of a small looking building.

“This is it?” You asked, only getting a nod and sigh in response as the two of you exited the small vehicle, him sighing loudly as he picked up the bags.

You approached the door and knocked, waiting impatiently as the city air bit and nipped at your rosy red cheeks and nose.

It opened, revealing the man you recognized to be your father. You took a step back, turning the volume of the music in your ears up and letting Sean do the talking. You observed as their mouths moved, and the door closed on the two of you, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion before relaxing as it opened again.

This time he was fully clothed and a woman quickly scurried out from behind him, not giving any of you a second glance.

You pulled the earbud out, looking between your brother and father.

“Who was that?” You asked, following the two of them into the cramped building.

“A friend.” Your father responded sharply, before going over the ground rules and showing you to your rather small rooms.

The sleep was terrible that night. Unable to get comfortable on the thin mattress, and longing to be back at home in America. After all, you weren’t the child who had screwed up.

                                                  【~~~】

It took about three days for the reality of the situation you were in to settle in.

You were living in Tokyo. And you wouldn’t be returning home any time soon.

It was quite a rude shock when it finally hit you, and that’s when the tears every night started to pay visits.

You sure as hell weren’t the one who had fucked up, destroying not one but two cars, illegally racing and crashing through the frame of a house waiting to be built. No, that was Sean. But as usual you also had to pay for his mistakes and so off to Tokyo you went with him, leaving behind your friends, your family and your car.

It wasn’t like your mother was expecting you to live here forever with Sean. After all you were almost nineteen and very much so capable of making your own decisions.

She had wanted you to go with him for the first month though, not wanting him to be completely alone with no one but your father there for him, and by painting it out to be some exotic holiday she had convinced you to tag along.

It was a mistake.

Sean had started coming home later and later every night, adjusting well to life in the city. You on the other hand, had absolutely no friends, and despised your days with every fiber of your being. You had begun marking days off your calendar, counting down eagerly for the month to be over and for you to return home.

“I hate it here.” You shoveled food into your mouth, standing with your back against the counter of the kitchen as Sean absentmindedly filled a glass of water. “Why did I choose to come with you?”

“How would I know?.” He mumbled under his breath, pulling his phone out of his pocket as it buzzed.

“You know if you hadn’t been so-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He cut you off, rolling his eyes. “I get enough if that from Mom and Dad. Don’t need it from you too.”

His accent was far stronger than yours, and you mocked him, feeling defeated when he just rolled his eyes and turned back to his phone.

He read whatever was on the screen with a small smile on his face and nosily you leaned over, wanting to get a look.

“Fuck off.” He shoved your shoulder, still smiling.

“What’s got you looking all happy?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked at you, a mischievous smile on his lips as you waited.

“How do you feel about going out tonight?”

                                                 【~~~】

Bodies crammed together in the parking garage, all surrounding the hundreds of cars parked in the lot. The immaculate paint jobs shined in the harsh neon lights, and most of them had their hoods up and their incredible engines on display, leaving your jaw on the ground every time.

You stuck close to Sean and Twinkie, feeling safer with your younger brother and his best friend. You felt intimidated by the gorgeous women who surrounded you, not that you were there to impress anyone. You were there for the cars.

The shitty 1990 Accord you had back in the states was nothing compared to the beasts that were parked in here.

You could feel vibrations in the ground, from the music and cars and it brought a small smile to your face as you walked through the swarm of people.

Sean’s eyes were scanning the crowd intently, clearly searching for someone.

He finally located who he was after and pulled you and Twinkie in the direction, his smile growing.

“There are some people I want you to meet.”

You were introduced to some faces you knew you wouldn’t remember, a gorgeous girl named Neela being one of the few you did.

You didn’t miss the way they looked at each other, or the way her boyfriend would possessively interrupt when you were talking to her, much to her dismay.

“And finally,” Sean said as you approached a man leaning back against his car, a small smirk on his face. “The one and only, Han.”

You flicked your eyes up to meet his, ignoring the way your breath slightly hitched in your throat.

He stuck his hand out to grasp yours, and you gripped it back with the same smirk he was wearing.

“Y/n.” You introduced yourself, not missing the way his eyes slowly traveled up and down your body. “I’m sorry about what my brother did to your car.”

His eyes returned to you, a smile on his face.

“It’s fine. Plenty of others sitting in that garage.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his smile turning into a shy grin.

“Better keep Sean away from them then.” You teased, turning to your brother only to realize he had left.

You noticed him standing by Neela again, walking around her car while her boyfriend, Takashi, watched intently from afar.

“He’s in love. Has been since he saw her.” Han rolled his eyes, popping a chip into his mouth.

“Hard to see why he wouldn’t be.” You said. “She’s beautiful. Kind. Into cars.”

“And what about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you kind? Into cars?” He asked, following your eyes to Sean and Neela.

“You forgot beautiful.” You said with a small laugh as you moved to stand next to him, leaning against the Mazda RX-7 behind you. You were praying to god it was his car, otherwise the lucky owner would probably get very, very pissed.

“Nah.” He turned his head and looked down at you. “Don’t need to ask you that to figure it out.”

A blush crept into your cheeks and you couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on your face.

“Well, usually when someone is kind they don’t run around telling others about it.” Your eyes met his again. “And I love cars.”

He grinned at you, and you turned your head to look back at Sean.

A part of you wanted to play hard to get, but the other part knew that even after only five seconds of talking to this man you were fucking done for and he knew that as well.

“And what about you?” You copied his earlier words, elaborating when you saw his confused face. “Are you kind? Into cars? Beautiful?”

“Beautiful?” He scoffed. “Sweetheart I’m a damn model.”

You let out a laugh, feeling yourself relax.

“I was kind enough to not beat your brother to death after he totaled my car.” Han joked. “And as for cars-” He gestured to the garage, full of stunning, high performance cars capable of stealing your heart in a matter of seconds. “-I probably wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like them.”

“Yeah I suppose that was obvious.” You let out a content sigh. This was the first time you had forgotten about your little countdown, and also the longest conversation you had had with someone who you weren’t related to.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, admiring the cars that surrounded you for a few minutes before he turned back to you again.

“What are you doing here Y/n?”

Your head turned to his, your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, you think Sean doesn’t gush about his amazing older sister every chance he gets?” Han rolled his eyes at you like you were stupid.

“No. I find that very hard to believe.” You let out a small laugh. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Sean told me that you were eighteen, turning nineteen in a few months time. No one is forcing you to be here, in Japan.” Han explained, his dark eyes staring into yours. “And yet here you are. Living in Tokyo, miserable, because your delinquent brother couldn’t stay out of trouble in the states. Why?”

Your mouth opened, then closed, then fell open again. You turned your head away from the piercing dark eyes and glanced at your brother.

“Because that guy who destroyed your car is my baby brother. He’s the closest family I’ve got.” You watched Sean as he spoke to Neela, hearts in his eyes. “Family stick together Han. I couldn’t let him just up and leave to a brand new country, with no one but our father there for him.”

Han watched the way you spoke, feeling a warmth across his chest.

“It’s my job to protect him and be there for him, and I don’t care if I’m miserable the whole time I’m doing it. I’m going to be there.”

His jaw almost dropped as your words hit him like bricks.

“You know,” He started. “You remind me of someone I used to go way back with.”

You scoffed light-heartedly.

“How old are you?”

He just grinned. “Too old for you.”

“Well luckily for you, my age is too young for me.” You said. Despite your tone being confident your body was completely betraying you, bracing itself for rejection.

Instead he just laughed and ran a hand through his hair.

Both of your heads snapped to the right as someone called his name, and you felt your heart fall when you realized that he was probably going to leave.

He sent a quick wave to the person who called out and pushed himself off the Mazda, gazing down at you.

“You know,” He started, a shy smile creeping onto his face. “If you ever get bored during the day you should come by the garage. I think I could make it worth your time.”

You let out a small laugh.

“We’ll see.”

                                                【~~~】

“You made friends pretty fast.” Sean said teasingly as you entered the kitchen, your hair sticking up in all kinds of directions.

“Yeah and so did you apparently.” You sent a sarcastic smile back in his direction. “Pity she’s taken.”

The smile on his face dropped instantly and he went back to his breakfast, ignoring you.

After a few minutes of silence between the two of you he spoke up again.

“So are you gonna?”

You looked up from your phone and coffee, furrowing your brows.

“Am I gonna what?”

“Swing by Han’s garage?” He had a knowing smirk on his face. “He told me all about your little conversation.”

You just shrugged casually, not wanting to let him know how you really felt inside.

“Maybe, if I have the time.”

“All you have here is time.” He scoffed. “All you’ve done for the past few days is buy food, eat it, then sleep. You may as well.”

You let out a sigh and finished what was left of your drink.

“Yeah, and for your information Sean, it’s been great.”

“You know you wanna Y/n.” He teased, a grin on his face.

“How about this,” You started. “Let me know next time you head over there. Maybe I’ll tag along.”

“Sounds good to me.” Sean said. “Especially given that I’ll be there tonight.”

Your cool demeanor dropped and your eyes widened.

“Tonight?”

“That’s what I said.” He grinned. “I’ll be sure to let him know he can look forward to seeing you there with me.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” You whispered under your breath.

He just shrugged his shoulders.

“You’d be doing me a favor if it meant I’d never have to see your gross face again.”

“What are you? Five?” You asked.

“I’d say that’s about right.”

You just scoffed at him, heading back to your room.

Not that you’d ever admit it to Sean, but you were glad that he’d be heading over to the garage tonight.

You would definitely rather die than tell him that though.

                                               【~~~】

You shut the car door behind you and stepped out into the cool evening air.

Sean had come by to pick you up after he had finished school, and you had been anxiously waiting all day.

Now you were finally here, and still very, very anxious.

“This doesn’t look like a garage to me.” You furrowed your brows, looking out at the water.

“That’s because it’s in there.” Sean pointed to the large brick building. “We’re gonna stay out the front, this is where Han’s been teaching me how to drift.”

“Oh.” You managed to get out, following your baby brother to a group of people who were all sitting down by stacks of tires.

All four faces were familiar, but you only remembered the names of two of them.

“Y/n.” Han greeted you, nodding his head with a smile as he casually held the bottle in his hand.

“Hi.” You smiled back at him, your nerves starting to melt away.

Sean gestured to the empty seat beside Han, and you took it.

The others tossed you friendly smiles which you returned, and Han looked up at Sean.

“Go get your sister a drink.” He said.

Sean did as he was asked, reaching into the cooler that had been brought along and handing you a bottle of something.

“Are you gonna have one?” You asked your brother as you opened it and took a small sip.

“Can’t drink and drive now, can I?” He smirked, digging his keys out of his pocket and heading back towards the Evo.

“Well that’s a first.” You scoffed, and you heard Han let out a small laugh beside you.

“I’m guessing the cowboy doesn’t wanna fuck up another one of Han’s cars.” Twinkie said, watching Sean as his climbed into the car and started it.

You looked over at Han.

“That’s your car?”

“Yep.” He nodded proudly, watching Sean as he started his usual route around the dock.

“How many more have you got hiding in that garage of yours?” You asked with a small laugh.

“You’ll have to come see for yourself.” He shrugged.

“Maybe.” You shrugged as well, missing the way Twinkie and the others looked back and forth at each other.

“You know,” Han started. “If you haven’t got any other plans tonight, I could take you out for a drive, grab some food. Maybe come back to the garage when everyone’s gone.” He said the last part quietly enough for only you to hear.

You looked over to Sean in the car, able to make out his face of concentration despite how far away you were from him. He wouldn’t miss you for one night.

“When do we leave?” You asked with a smile.

He grinned with a surprised laugh, and you could tell he had been expecting you to say no.

“Now, if that works for you.”

You looked back at Sean, wincing at the sound of the tires screaming against the road.

“Sounds good.”

                                              【~~~】

The two of you had ended up getting cheap food from a side-of-the-road vendor, eating in silence in the car before making small talk about everything, from your life back in America to what kind of animals you thought you could take on in a fight.

You were laughing when you stumbled out of the RX-7 and into the cool night air, following Han into the garage which wasn’t that much warmer.

You didn’t know what you had expected when you walked into the garage, but it definitely wasn’t what you saw.

Han gestured for you to follow him up some stairs to an open second story, furnished with a small kitchen, table and chair, and living area.

“Wow.” You mumbled under your breath, realizing he must have some serious money to be able to afford all of this. Not to mention the cars in there, some of which cost more than your house, car and life savings combined.

“It’s my pride and joy.” He pointed towards the sofa, and you took a seat, sinking in to the plush material as he opened the fridge and called out to you. “You want a drink?”

“Yeah thanks.” You smiled, and he pulled out two of the same bottles you had been drinking from earlier.

He took a seat beside you, on the opposite edge of the relatively small sofa, and the two of you sat in silence for a moment, reflecting on your night, before you spoke up.

“Thank you.” You said quietly, and he looked at you in confusion. “For what you’re doing for Sean, I mean.”

“It’s not a problem.” He brushed it off. “He’s a good kid, the kinda person I want to be around.”

You let out a scoff.

“Well I wouldn’t go that far.”

He chuckled at you.

“Thank you.” He said, and this time it was your turn to be confused. “You might not realize it. but coming out here with Sean has made it so much easier for him. He probably won’t ever tell you, but he’s grateful as hell and crazy lucky to have you in his life.”

A small blush crept up onto your cheeks, and you almost didn’t notice as he crept closer towards you. Almost.

“Yeah well he’s also crazy lucky to have met you.” You said quietly, your eyes meeting his as the two of you drew closer and closer. “I am too.” You whispered.

“And why’s that?” He asked, his tone matching yours, and you swore the room got hotter by about twenty degrees.

“You’re kind,” You started, remembering back to last night when you met him. “Into cars.” You continued, and he nodded along, agreeing with you.

“You forgot beautiful.” He whispered, just inches from your face now, and you smiled cheekily.

“You’re a damn model sweetheart.”

He grinned, his eyes flicking down to your lips briefly and before you could realize what was happening his lips were on yours.

Your hands instinctively went to his hair, pulling him closer to you as you laid down flat on your back, feeling his hands roam up and down your body.

You felt butterflies erupt in your chest as your hands wandered from the back of his head, and so did your mind.

Sean’s face flashed in your mind and you inhaled sharply, pushing Han off of you and sitting up, breathing heavily.

“Shit.” You hissed, moving to the edge of the sofa and holding your head in your hands. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Han asked, also breathing heavily. His tone sounded confused, and guilt racked through your body. “I’m sorry.” His voice changed to apologetic. “I thought you wanted to.”

“I do.” You whined. “I want to, but I can’t. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh.

“Sean.” You turned to look him in the eyes, and his face dropped.

“Shit.” He said.

“Shit.” You agreed.

The two of you sat in silence, still trying to catch your breaths, and trying to think of a way to fix the now incredibly awkward situation.

“I think I should leave.” You said, pushing yourself up off the sofa.

“Y/n don’t go.” Han protested. “It’s the middle of the night and you’ve been drinking. Neither of us can drive and I’m not going to let you walk home or get into a taxi with some creep.”

You let out a sigh, not letting him see how the fact that he cared that much made you all warm and fuzzy inside, or how the fact that it made you all warm and fuzzy inside made you want to gag.

“What do I do then?” You asked.

“Take my bed.” He nodded towards a door that you were assuming led to his bedroom. “I’ll take the sofa.”

“No way.” You protested. “This is your home Han, you aren’t sleeping on that tiny ass sofa. I can, it’s no problem.”

His eyes looked like he wanted to argue, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Ok. I’ll go grab you some blankets.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, laying down on the sofa.

It was undeniably comfortable, and you let your eyes close before Han returned, vaguely feeling him place a thick blanket over the top of you before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, leaving you with butterflies.

Your mind started to slip out of consciousness, and you let it, forgetting about how you were sleeping in Han’s garage, and planning on being out of there before he woke up the next morning.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Just a fun little something that took me about a week to finish writing! Hope you like it and requests are most certainly open <3

If anyone would like to be on the tag list for part 2, please let me know!

[ackerfics]

hi, rory! <3 what majors would the sc veterans take if they were in the modern world?

hi, anon !! thank you so much for this ask, this is heaven in disguise from all my schoolwork. tbh, the whole time i was working for a lab report, my mind will go back to this ask bc i wanted to have the association as accurate as possible hhhajshw

i asked one of my friends for help and thank God for them bc my single brain cell really said 'it's time for you to rest' after staring at one backlog. without further ado, here are the veterans' majors if they're studying in university:

first off, hange zoe, because if you ask me this question in real life, they would be the only one i can answer. every damn time i would think of them in a college setting, being a biology major is really hange's forte. at this point, this is what everyone would associate them with.

hange is all about experimenting and doing brilliant breakthroughs in any field of science but knowing that they have this unparalleled fascination with the unusual and unexpected life-forms (ahem titans ahem), the biology lab would be the surest place where you could find hange. i feel like biology is too broad so i will add that microbiology or bacteriology are just some of the specializations they will be taking in their time in college.

imagine, being lab partners with hange and immediately knowing that you will have one of the highest grades in the class because they're that well-versed in a specific lab report. and if you're partners with them for the rest of the academic year, you might as well have a shot at an immaculate grade. i'm not saying that you should depend on them too much though hHHHH, hange is still a member of the majority of the student body who relies heavily on caffeine to keep them invigorated. who isn't at this point?

so far, some of the biology majors that i encountered (well, more like chatted behind a screen — online classes suck), they have this energy that could drain my social battery too quickly and hange fits that description. (note that this doesn't apply to any college bc i observed this in mine soooo 🤭) they're the type to always go on a tangent on a certain science article or coerce you into joining this org thing. i can imagine levi just looking at hange like they're the one sucking his brain cells out whenever they speak about a documentary in bbc they watched the night before.

and if you're stuck on anything biology-related, hange will be the best person to ask help from. they're the first ray of sunlight you get while waking up. they're that approachable.

okay, so erwin smith.

don't come at me but he just radiates this ceo vibes and with that, one of his probably majors is business administration. i know this is so stereotypical of me but let's face it, erwin is a smooth talker through and through and if he doesn't take up marketing, business is one way to spend his college years. knowing his personality in attack on titan of establishing deals easily with a determined resolve, he fits the broadest description of being a business administration major. (again, don't come at me because my consultant for this statement is google and nobody comes after google sometimes hhhhh)

just for the benefit of myself, i will add what google says about this major, "[they] learn the mechanics of business through classes in fundamentals, such as finance, accounting and marketing ... students find ways to solve problems using data and they develop communication and managerial skills." and i thank you.

he's also probably the most well-spoken and most professional when conversing with others among his friends (and i'm not saying this to drag the other characters but this is what i pick up on) and that is exactly the qualities his major specializes. it is expected for them to strike deals and be a people person and who better character for the job than our very own erwin smith 🤩

now i mentioned 'one of the probable majors' and yes, aside from business administration, philosophy just exudes erwin smith. ngl, when i imagined erwin in a college setting, this major will always come first. his mind is just so sexy to me??? and i hope you guys think the same, too, because i don't want to be the only one who thinks that 👀 kidding aside, erwin is one of the smartest people in attack on titan and every time he speaks in one episode, my brain will instantly go mush, and that's what i feel when i hear philosophy majors talk.

philosophy majors (according to any other youtuber who does lookbooks for various majors hhhhhh) challenge what is unanswerable and analyze questions with no right answer. i feel like erwin, like hange, will talk all night to explain a theory. just imagine a date with him and you just listen to him rant about a topic that they should be making a report on. just listen to this man, okay?? it's adorable when he lets his guard down to include you in his little bubble of philosophies. he would also mention random things that he learned in classes, sometimes finding joy in knowing the philosophies of other people, or even deciphering levi's dream of an apocalyptic world. (it pisses levi off but he just leave him be.)

if you want a man who can do both of these majors, erwin smith is the answer 😉

sigh, mike zacharias.

this man holds so many talents and will forever amaze me.

i assume all of us here watched the movie perfume. and no, i'm not saying that mike is going to be a murderer but just like the main character of that film, making perfumes will be his forte with that sense of smell of his. and here, i conclude that mike will definitely take up chemical engineering.

he gives me the vibes that if it covers the one thing he does best, he will love his major. (mr. zacharias, can you please spare me that quality because i really need that now 😩) being in the labs while experimenting mundane things that can be found in the environment to create different scents is also a likely situation you can find him in, again, very much like hange. he's the type of student who really puts so much effort in staying afloat the honors list, even to the point of topping midterms in his major, for the sake of his dream. there will never be a moment where you will catch him complain about his major and professors.

he's that type of friend in college who agrees to any rant you say but in reality, he's got his life easy 😭

i headcanon mike owning a perfume shop after college just like how levi always dreamed of having a tea shop.

okay, imagine this little scenario if you're dating mike where he creates this unique perfumes as random gifts for you. they're not the typical perfumes that can seep through the room and can make you gag for no reason, they're subtle scents that will stay for the duration of the day. because again, he's got a sensitive nose, so making perfumes according to what his sense of smell dictates will always result in a revolutionary experiment. if you're randomly blurting out that you want a fusion of flowers and fruits as your perfume, say no more, he's your man.

now, the veteran who i find the hardest to associate a major with — levi ackerman.

after much deliberation and a break from plant physiology, i see him taking up law or criminology.

(i asked some of this from my mom because she attended law school :>>>)

levi is so organized and detailed in the things that he do and he fits in either of these majors since they require tedious memorizations and analysis of laws and crime scenes while being assertive enough to defend someone. he's the typical person who blurts out the true situation of a crime scene when watching film adaptations. yeah, he's that person, the one who sucks the enthusiasm out of you while watching a movie because he just had to correct some of the scenes. nevertheless, he means well though, he just wanted you to understand the reality unlike how films portray gruesome murders. movie nights always end up with levi ranting about half-assed mystery clichés.

levi's binder of readings are always too bright for everyone's good. his notes are full of highlighters and scribbles that it can blind someone. for one, he's always up all night studying his readings and cases for a practice court so by choosing neon highlighters, it's a way for him to wake up. there isn't one book in his possession that he doesn't highlight like it's a fricking coloring book. hange once jokingly said that his binder now acts like his bible and for once, he agrees because he was never seen without one. hange had a field day since levi never agrees with them.

when doing practice courts though, his go-to resting bitch face always come in handy when carrying out his role as one of the lawyers. he's just so sexy with his hands in the pockets of his slacks as he tries to justify his supposed client. the way he questions the accused definitely isn't hot because he's like one of the panelists in your thesis defense, the one who just comes up with questions that have you melting on the spot. he's dangerous i tell you. it also doesn't help if you accidentally hurt one of his friends or just landed randomly in his blacklist for being annoying as hell. relax though, he doesn't mean harm other than the fact that he's ready to throw some hands from all the pent-up rage he gathered in his body.

of course, i couldn't forget how he dresses up like a typical dark academia fanatic so look out for eye-candy.

if you want someone who can recite articles from the constitution, this man is perfect for you 😌

i had so much fun doing this !! again, i'm not generalizing every major i've talked about in these little headcanons, this is all for fun and based on the people i encountered in college. if you want more of this, don't hesitate to ask !! 😚

[mrsgiovanna]

A Dream Realized (Don Giorno x Fem! Reader)

The cutest request from a nonnie mouse, I had too much fun writing this and may have gone overboard😅

This takes place many years after the events of Vento aureo.

No warnings, just pure, self indulgent fluff😍💜💭🐞

“Giorno! Get out! Get out! Get out! You’re not allowed to see (y/n) in the dress!” Trish ran across the room to slam the door before Giorno could see you while you tried on your stunning designer dress and shoes in front of your excited bridal retinue.

“But I just want to talk to her, I’m leaving in a moment and I’ll only see her at the wedding now,”

“Gio, please wait, I’ll be out in a minute,” you call out, hurrying to get out of your dress so you could see him one last time before your wedding tomorrow,”

“Of course tesoro, don’t worry, I won’t leave without seeing you first,” Giorno paced outside the master bedroom, amused at the laughter and muffled conversations he could hear from the other side of the door. As soon as you step out of the room, you run into his arms, and give him the warmest, tightest hug you could with all the energy you could muster, almost as if you wanted to memorize the way his body felt against yours.

“I’ll miss you tonight my love, not that I’ll be able to get any sleep…” you say as you look up into his sparkly emerald eyes, interlocking your fingers around his neck.

“No, no bella, you need to rest, I want you to be well rested and alert for tomorrow, don’t want people to think I’ve tricked you into marrying me when they see your dopey, sleepy face,” teased Giorno, masking a mischievous laugh by burying his face in your hair.

“Whatever… my sleepy face is adorable, you just don’t want anyone else to see it,”

“Yes bella, you’ve caught me out, only I should be able to see you like this. Giorno locked his fingers around the small of your back and pulled away to look at you, “you know, the next time we hold each other like this, you’ll be Mrs. Giovanna, you ready for that? It’s your last chance to run away…”

“Oh you guys are so annoying, Giorno, come on, its only one night, (y/n), we’ll… try to have him back in one piece for tomorrow, can’t make any promises though,” said Mista as he slung an arm around the young Don’s shoulders trying to drag him off. With a few chaste kisses, Giorno had left and you went back to the room to go over the final details of the wedding and just have a moment to relax with your party.

 You both spent your evenings recounting stories of your childhoods together, you knew the boys were out somewhere making the best of Giorno’s final moments as a bachelor, but you weren’t worried, you wanted him to have a normal experience for once, well as normal as one can conjure while being the don of Passione.

Yours was a classic “childhood sweethearts” love story- little boy meets little girl, they become the best of friends and a mutual escape for one another from their painful realities, boy goes on an epic journey and attains a supernatural, almost godlike power and ousts the menacing don of the most powerful mafia in Italy for the betterment of society, boy then pursues girl after years of mutual pining for each other- just your usual love story…

Reforming Passione was not easy, and it took years of painstaking work to get to a point where Giorno could focus on his personal life, and be the man he thought you deserved. You never doubted that he would realize his dream, and you cheered for him silently from your position in the shadows, staying hidden for your own safety.

­ “Everything looks beautiful outside- here, I’ve brought over your flower crown and the bouquets that Giorno had sent over, I’m convinced this was made with GE, I haven’t even seen some of these flowers before,” marveled Trish as she helped fix your headpiece to your hair. “Giorno is already here, he looks like an absolute dream, well, he always did look great in black.” You smile at Trish, thankful that she was your maid of honor, she really has been the best friend you could have asked for during this entire planning stage, and you were excited at helping her in the same way when her time came.

As you give yourself one last look at your reflection in the gilded mirror, a little butterfly flutters through your window and lands on your outstretched hand, slowly transforming into a small note. The girls all gather around you as you unfold the letter and begin to read it. You recognize the immaculate penmanship immediately-

My beautiful (y/n),

To say that I’ve been looking forward to this is an understatement. Thank you for always being the source of my strength and my sense of calm in this crazy world. I’m usually a man of few words, so I’ll keep this short and save the rest for my vows to you. I just want to say that I love you and I’m ready to embark on this new adventure with you. Today you will take my name, and in exchange I get everything I could ever want- I get you…

P.S. look for a little blue box on your nightstand, please wear that when you walk down the aisle.

All my love, Gio

One of your bridesmaids hands you the box, and you open it to find a beautiful, elegant jeweled necklace, perfectly matched to your look for the day.

The ceremony was beautiful, romantic and lighthearted- everything you could have hoped for, and the sight of Giorno beaming as you walked towards him is one that will remain imprinted in your memory forever. Your reception was the grandest soiree you’ve ever planned and you were elated that everything was going according to plan, and that the guests were having a wonderful time.  Despite your exhaustion, you danced the night away with your handsome husband, until you both could barely stand. Finding a quiet corner, you decide to sit down and just observe the cheerful scene.

With glossy eyes and flushed cheeks, you both look at each other affectionately

“I can’t believe this is happening Gio, it feels like a dream and I’m scared I’m going to wake up…” Giorno looks at you while twirling a lock of your hair in his fingers, drinking in your loveliness, “It is a dream amore mio… one that we have realized. Nothing and nobody will be able to take this from us now…” he says as his gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips, claiming them in a soft kiss, the first of countless more to come.

[buryyourfavouritestrope]

Goodnight - Soryu Oh

Author Note: So I played some Otome games randomly and one of them was Kissed By The Baddest Bidder. Interesting plots. Soryu was one of my favourites, so was Shuichi. Anyway, enjoy this maybe. A little suggestive at points. Also just straight uploaded not checked yet.

On any other day Soryu would’ve avoided the establishment; he despised the heavy stench of alcohol blended unevenly with a few of Mamaru’s cigarettes. He’d suffer once he returned to the sanctity of his room for the evening, he could already feel the scent clinging to the insides of his nose. Soryu would hold this against his friends for a while; even if neither of them had forced him to come. His body had moved of its own accord the second the young maid had shone a bright smile and asked if he was joining them.

The Ice Dragon had situated himself on the opposite side of the table from her, if it had been a possibility, he would have sat on a bar stool beside the bar. Instead, he suffered sat besides, what could only be called, the useless Detective. Perhaps Soryu had been to harsh in that thought, Kishi may be lazy but he’d helped Inui out of a spot of bother a few times. The Dragon couldn’t help the sparks of Envy that had lodged in his chest once again, albeit for a different reason, as he pondered on Kishi. No-one could blame Soryu, Mamoru held the second thing that Soryu could never have.

After a while the Auction Managers had dispersed, each going their separate ways as they bid farewell for the night. A few a little more than tipsy as they staggered by the many bar patrons. Baba had been the first to leave; a charismatic grin on his face as he promised to do this again before following a rather scantily clad woman out of the bar. Ota and Mamoru had been the next to go, a exasperated Detective wrapping an arm under Ota to support his drunken frame. With those three gone it had left Soryu with a nonchalant Eisuke and a close to tipsy maid. He should have left after Baba; it had been his intention to go but the young maid had started to speak to him and so effortlessly he had found himself lost as they conversed. They hadn’t even noticed when Eisuke had left; and that thought had made the blood in Soryu’s body run cold.

“What about those two?” Came a partially slurred voice, the syllables gently tore the man from his thoughts. His ever-observant gaze falling briefly to the woman. She’d stayed; the second they’d both realised Ichinomiya abandoned them she had chosen to stay and so had he. Soryu convinced himself that his presence was for Eisuke. He was staying to make sure she didn’t embarrass the man or cause any more trouble than she had since the Auction. It hadn’t been because Soryu had noticed the several less than sober men whose eyes lingered on her for a little too long when she went to order herself another drink, nor had it been because her presence beside him soothed his stress-riddled body.

Soryu lifted his gaze from his companion to gaze at the pair situated in a booth by the entrance. A rather thin salaryman with comedically thick rimmed glasses and a sort of awkwardness in his actions that rivalled a nerdy schoolboy sat across from another scantily clad woman. Her fingers danced around the rim of her glass as she watched the man with vague interest. Every so often she would lean further forward allowing the salaryman a clearer view of her cleavage.

“He’s a nerd and she’s an escort” Oh commented idly, he reached for his seventh whisky of the evening, relishing briefly as the liquid seeped down his throat. Normally he would stop at four and switch to a light beer but then again, he would never have been out drinking for this long unless he was making a deal. As he placed the, now, empty glass back on the table he reminded himself that he should’ve left before Eisuke.

“Soryu that’s not how you play the game” She chuckled a little as she finished the rest of her own drink. Her fingers danced around the rim of her own glass as she hugged it against her chest. At some point she had slithered into the seat beside him, and he could smell the lavender that swam through the air around her, offsetting any other smell from the establishment.

He’d frozen. His mind replaying the same word in her voice as though trying to retain how the syllables had rolled from her tongue in that innocent tipsy tone of hers. She’d never called him by his name before. It had always been ‘Mr. Oh’ or ‘Sir’. Never Soryu as much as he had craved it. He’d have told her if it hadn’t been for his pride. If he hadn’t wanted to save himself from being teased by Baba or Ota.

“You’re supposed to say something like. She’s asking him to buy her cat.” She whistled, another sip of her drink and Soryu caught the gaze of the bartender. In a brief flick of his wrist, the Bartender nodded. “But he’s allergic to cats, so she’s offering herself with the cat but he’s just waiting for the other members of his DnD club.” Soryu couldn’t help the soft chuckle that tore through his throat. “Do that again, I like that sound.”

Her drunken words meant nothing currently, yet it didn’t stop the warmth from dusting Soryu’s cheeks. The Ice Dragon caught the way she began to rock sideways, and he was certain that the room was spinning around her; so as the bartender set down a tray of coffee, Soryu placed his arm on the back of their seat, it was a precaution to keep her on the cushioned bench. He inched closer to her – just to make sure she had something to keep her propped up. Not because he wished she would fall towards him. Or so in that moment he could hold her.

“Ok, how about he’s a police officer in disguise, and she’s a widower. They matched on a dating app whilst he was trying to get closer to a drug ring. She guessed the code correctly and he wants to arrest her, and she just wants to get her rocks off. Two crossed wires.” Soryu smirked. Stifling her laughter, she placed hand in front of her mouth. She shifted in her seat, her leg brushing against his, an innocent action that had Soryu’s muscle tensing and his mind malfunctioning. The ever-composed Ice Dragon felt pathetic – she could reduce him to dust with just a smile and they hadn’t even known each other that long, not before the man had fallen for her soothing presence.

“Better…who next….?” She sighed, her head roaming the other patrons. Soryu lifted his coffee to his lips, the liquid lingering on his tastes buds as he revelled in the bitter drink. The second it hit the back of his throat he felt the caffeine kick in, doing its best to rid him of the alcohol coursing through his system. “Him” she practically beamed pointing to the bar.

For a second, he wondered if she meant the bartender, who stood cleaning an already immaculate wine glass, but then his gaze just skimmed a man hunched over his drink. He was younger than the other patrons, his dishevelled brown hair damp from what Soryu assumed was the rain outside. A hefty sigh masked the mumbles that came from the bartender, and for a second Soryu recalled a face in his mind’s eye. Especially when he caught sight of the glasses that sat beside the man’s drink, he paired them with the off brown three piece that adorned the man’s body and it suddenly occurred to him, just who he was looking at.

“That’s Shuichi’s and Eisuke’s love child. See the bartender doesn’t like him, clearly, he has the aura to get on everyone’s nerves just from his presence alone, probably from Eisuke, but arguable from Shuichi too. Then there’s the hair, the poor eyesight, and that sigh.” Soryu announced.

The room fell silent before hysterical laughter rang out. Soryu almost jumped at the sound as it resonated in his ears. She wrapped her arms around her body as she struggled to compose herself or even breathe. A grin spread through Soryu’s features, as they ignored the quizzical looks from the other customers. Even from the love child whose scowl imitated Shuichi so well that the woman’s laughter doubled.

“I bet…” She paused, inhaling deeply, “I bet he’s sad because his dads are fighting so he left after coming all the way to Japan to see them. Maybe he went to Dubai first to look for Shuichi but when he found out that he came to Japan he followed. Poor guy. Don’t worry sir, your dads will stop fighting soon” She shouted the last of her sentence. Soryu hushed her, sending the man an apologetic smile.

“Here. Have some coffee” He uttered. The mug remained untouched, her body lifting from their shared seat. She stumbled towards the bar, hands gripping the wooden surface tight as she ordered another drink. The bartender, whose eyes flew between her and Soryu, nodded before handing her a glass of what Soryu knew would be water. The mafia boss had slipped some money to the bartender when he had delivered his coffee, a silent look passed between the two men in a wordless contract to cut her off.

Soryu had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed the pair of legs now stood in front of his coffee. He lifted his gaze carefully, cautious not to linger on any places he shouldn’t. She grinned down at him, rocking on her feet to keep herself steady.

“Look Sor, I’m taller than you now” She giggled. The nickname held an effect on him that he was too ashamed to admit to. The Mafia boss stood his hand hovering in the air before he turned around.

“Get on, it’s time we left” He announced; he bent slightly at the knees whilst he waited. She took a moment to understand what he meant, her body all but jumping onto his back. She hung her arms around his neck as her legs wrapped around his waist. Neither of them missed the way her body shivered the second he placed his hands under her thighs, or the way his body seemed to relax further.

To any outside observers they looked like a couple, a boyfriend who had come to collect his drunk girlfriend carrying her back to their room. Especially with the way she grinned, every so often blowing on the shell of his ear. The action would have Soryu jolting slightly, his fingers squeezing her thighs in a false warning. The Ice Dragon Leader wore a softened expression, a small smile gracing his usually frowning features.

“We should tell Mr Ichinomiya and Mr Hishikura to kiss and make up so their son can have his family back. He looked so sad; I wonder what Mr Ichinomiya did.” She mumbled, her voice seemed quieter now and she slurred her words a little less. A soft rumble in Soryu’s chest alerted them both to just how entertaining the idea of waking Eisuke up to tell him his fake son was waiting for him was.

“Maybe not tonight. I don’t think Eisuke will be too impressed” Soryu laughed. The woman fell silent even as she continued to blow on Soryu’s ear or tap her fingers against Soryu’s chest. What he had failed to notice in her silence was her reaction to his laugh. He’d only chuckled earlier, and yet the soft exhale that could barely be called laughter had the maid craving for more. “Ok, I need to put you down now” He added as they stepped inside the Penthouse elevator.

She didn’t move to release him, in fact she tightened her hold on the man, her legs wrapped tighter around his waist as she buried her head into the crook of his neck. He could feel the pout she wore, especially as her lips skimmed the skin on his neck. He moved his head away from her, a small shudder running through his body as he gazed at her through his peripheral.

“The elevator card is in my pocket; I can’t reach with you on my back.” He informed her; she continued to pout, shaking her head a little. A mischievous spark in her eyes startled Soryu as he felt her press further against his back, her fingers running down her chest towards his jacket pocket. His eyes closed struggling to maintain his composure until he felt the soft prick on his check. He peeked through a crack in his eyelid to see the familiar white key card.

“Here you go” She beamed, “Now onwards Sor.”

Mentally he was scolding himself, he should’ve told her – forced her to get off him. Anyone else and he would’ve. He’d done it many times in the past, each with a different drunk woman who would remember little of Soryu’s kindness and forever wind up hating him for his harshness the next morning. He should’ve left when Baba left.

He stood there, in the middle of the penthouse longue, unsure of where to put her. He couldn’t walk up the stairs and dump her on Eisuke. Not with his ill-temper when he gets disturbed. Nor could he leave her on the couch, not with the wandering hands of both Baba and Ota. He couldn’t think, not with her head resting in the crook of his neck, her breath gliding across his skin eliciting goosebumps in its wake. He shook his head as he headed towards his own suite. She’d stay in the spare bed tonight, if Eisuke hadn’t removed it already. Soryu would leave her there and make his way to his condo for the rest of the night. By the time he reached it, he’d have just enough time to shower and go to the Ice Dragon’s headquarter.

This wasn’t her first time in his suite, and much to his dismay he hoped it wouldn’t be the last. She’d cleaned the room many times before, but this was the first time that he willingly brought her to the room. The first time he had placed her on the bed. He was a statue by the bed; watching as she hid her face with her hands. Her clothing hung dishevelled on her body, her skirt rising just high enough to have Soryu’s mind wondering. He’d imagined her many times in his bed, and he wished he could say those thoughts had remained in the dead of night at his condo, but often he found himself fantasizing during his meetings with Eisuke. The Ice Dragon Leader would catch her cleaning in her maid uniform – hardly the most scandalous outfit but enough to have his blood racing and his eyes glossing over.

“Do you need anything? Water?” He frowned at himself. He knew the answer already and with that knowledge he’d bring her some water before he left. In the morning he’d send Inui over with some pain medication and perhaps some breakfast to keep her hangover at bay. With that settled he turned to leave. Just as quickly as he had moved, he felt a significantly smaller hand pull at his. His eyes drifting to the fingers that wrapped around his wrist as he let himself be pulled down.

“Don’t go” She paused; her words sounding panicked. “Not just yet” She continued. The simple sentence attacked what little self-control Soryu had left. It’s when his head hits the pillow that the alarm bells ring. A harsh reminder of just how bad things could turn out. At that point he should’ve stopped, told her she was drunk and left immediately. He should have. Yet he remained there, his body turning to lay on his side. Neither spoke, for a while, at least not with words. Soryu’s usually calm eyes roamed every corner of her face, a silent plea. He drank her in as though this would be the last time, he’d see her. Which should Eisuke find them was a very real possibility.

“Hold on” She whispers, breath warm against his face. She reaches out to him. Two fingers gently running over the skin of his forehead as they push back a stray hair. “There much better” She adds. Her hand remained there, it pulls him closer to her and he doesn’t stop the way his body shuffles closer on the bed. He can feel her rubbing her fingers against the skin of his temple. Soryu can feel her breath on his lips, and that on its own is enough to send his heart racing, he can smell the alcohol and the heavenly scent of Lavender. A scent he would forever associate with her, with this. It’s a smell subtle enough not to irritate him. Her fingers run over his hair, and he can’t help the shiver that escapes him. Nor can he stop his eyes from closing as he revels in the sensation. She eats at his control, and he can feel it slipping. He should be scared by just how easily she made him weak, but he’s not.

“I should go,” He mutters, he doesn’t mean these words anymore, “and you should get some rest before we do anything we’ll regret”. He doesn’t move, any conviction in his body went the second her fingers fell from his hair to the nape of his neck. She doesn’t force him to move, its written in her eyes how she feels, especially when he places his hand on her thigh. His fingers rubbing slow circles into her skin.

It’s innocent. The soft caress of her lips on his. She made the first move, he’s painfully aware of that fact but he kisses back regardless. His mind savouring the way her lips move against his, its everything he imagined it to be. The innocence depleting quickly as his mind races with the countless scenarios he imagined in his early morning showers. Her lips tempt him just as much as he tempts her. His hands pulling her body flush against him. Both ignoring the burning sensation in their lungs demanding them to breathe. His hand resting on her thigh rises higher; high enough to feel the material of her underwear.

Her own hands move to his shoulders desperate to rid him of his jacket. It doesn’t take long for the material to fall to the ground in a crumpled heap. His lips travel from hers to skin of her jaw, he leaves wet kisses as he turns his attention to her neck. In turn she moves her attention to the buttons of his shirt. He can feel the air stabbing against his overheating chest and the sensation knocks his brain into gear. He’s quick to hear the alarm bells, quicker to release her neck from his torment.

In an instant they both stop, her hands caught in one of his hands whilst his other remains still on her thigh. He inhales attempting to muster some control as he pulls himself off the bed.

“I’m sorry, I can’t” his words end in a pitiful chuckle; aimed at himself. In a reckless moment he had ruined what little closeness they could have. She wasn’t his to hold, to kiss or to touch. She wasn’t his as much as he wished she was. “I better say goodnight before I change my mind” He utters. He casts one last look at her, face red and dishevelled.

The second the door closed behind him; he fell against it. He hadn’t bothered to grab his jacket, nor had he bothered to rebutton his dishevelled shirt. Soryu lifts his fingers to his lips, he can still feel her lips against his, still feel the lingering warmth on his body. He was changing his mind the second he fished for his phone in his pocket. If Inui didn’t answer he’d go back in, deal with the fallout tomorrow.

“Was it everything you’d hope it’d be?” Eisuke’s voice filled the silence. The tight-lipped syllables turned Soryu’s blood to ice. “I do hope it was worth touching what belongs to me. I can see you enjoyed it and this once I’m willing to overlook it for an old friend.” He added.

[lolabangtan]

Biting dogs seldom bark | jjk

You and your junior Jungkook decide to go to his room when you see the library is full. In the face of silence and concentration, one of your childhood habits comes back to haunt you, to Jungkook’s delicious dispair.

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: is indulging a whiny virgin kookie considered something worth warning for? anyways, virgin boys are fun to play with when they submit and you encourage them to leave behind toxic gendered expectations. support your local virgins and stay at home if you can.

# biting kink, subby virgin!jungkook, college AU, dom!reader, soft femdom, Y/N eating some ass and licking some balls, a little bit of cum play, too, oral (male receiving), overstimulation, unprotected vaginal sex, the word noona appears a dozen times, Y/N is basically JK’s hot noona and he’s been dreaming of her fucking him for all eternity.

This is both inspired by Run BTS ep 30 where JK moaned a little when Jin bit his shoulder and the realization that some people do bite their friends according to a classmate I used to have in high school.

Well, we all miss jungkook. this is in his honour, although i hope he does never read it.

“Are you sure you don’t want my freshman notes?”

“There’s no need, noona. Thank you.”

Jungkook was tired. You could see it in the way he dragged his voice, the way he moved and picked up papers and opened his laptop—even the way he blinked, squeezing his eyes over and over again.

“Tell me if you change your mind,” you finally said, “I never got to sell them and they’re rotting in a folder on my computer anyways.”

Jungkook put away his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I can—I can do it. I just need some more time to do the research. Professor Choi’s presentations aren’t really useful… He said he’d share all the notes but there are only conceptual frameworks.”

As he was facing his first mid-term exams and you had to study to get into an internship in Tokyo for your senior year, you had tried to go first to the library closest to your residence, which, although it had a horrible Wi-Fi connection, was not usually very crowded.

You guys were so delusional! When you arrived, you thought about whether there were really so many people studying at your school. There was not a single chair, not a single bench, hardly any room on the floor free to sit and be productive.

Pressing your lips, you stared at him for a moment, silently, as you always did.

Jungkook and you knew each other from high school after he arrived from Busan right after you started eleventh grade. He was the new kid, handsome, quite cute, only fifteen years old, and your friends loved to welcome kids like that, so there was no way you could stop them from taking the poor boy as their protégé. Since he had turned out to be a really nice boy, all shyness and naivety, how could you not take him under your wing, too?

Even if many people said you were the cool type: silent, thoughtful, taking care of your friends from the shadows. And they were right—biting dogs seldom barked.

He relied on you as he relied on no one else. You were his noona, his older sister, his strong, confident friend on whom he could always count. And you loved it because you had always thought that Jungkook was your baby.

However, you had this small, slight, insignificant habit that you should get rid of one day, and which changed things a little bit.

Since childhood, you tended to bite people. It was nothing hard, not biting them in their necks and bleeding them to death. You never hurt them, and they weren’t even proper bites. Your mother once told that it was because of some pain in your teeth you had had when you were five, and you just had gotten used to it.

But you would never bite strangers—ugh, not at all. It was just a habit you started to do when you felt comfortable enough with someone, so you simply tended to bite your friends’ shoulders, or their wrists, or anywhere that was munchy and squishy.

You were about to graduate from high school the first time you bit Jungkook.

The loyal, hardworking kid he was, he had accepted to invite you to his place after school for the first time. His parents already knew you and they were really happy that he had a noona to help him (his mother was apparently a little bit older than his father, too), so they did nothing to stop him from taking a grown-up, hot girl upstairs to his room.

You were expecting something completely different when Jungkook turned his doorknob.

Being sixteen years old, you expected to find a deep smell of corn, a mess of T-shirts reeking of deodorant and sweat, bags of Doritos lying on the floor, posters of anime girls in microscopic bikinis. But the reality was simply a moderately tidy room, although it was populated by little Japanese cartoon figures, a huge computer with a microphone and a closet full of immaculate white tees.

“Are you okay, noona? You seem… shocked.”

His question made you chuckle. “I just expected something different…”

“I didn’t really have time to clean up this morning,” he said, “I didn’t know you’d ask to come over. Fuck, I even forgot to make the bed…” He hurried over to his bedside table and picked up a white round cylinder to throw into the bottom of the drawer. “Yeah, let me just pull out the sheets a little bit and we can… We can do it here. Studying.”

“I mean that I expected something worse, Kookie. You’re a really clean boy.”

Kookie, he loved hearing you say that. It made your lips pout and then it made you smile. The tenderness, the care, the cooing. He adored hearing you say it.

You both sat down on the bed, since the table had been invaded by the giant computer, and you took out your books to start studying. Silently, you bit the tip of your pen while he stared at you, and eventually, you noticed his eyes burning your lips.

“Sorry, is it yours? You know, I have this awful habit of biting,” you added.

“Don’t worry,” said Jungkook, “you can keep it. I have more. As long as you bite… things and not people,” he added with a mysterious smile.

You couldn’t hold the laugh. “Actually, I do bite people. But only those I feel close to. I don’t bite just anyone, you know. Half my friends have had enough of me, though.”

Jungkook frowned slowly, thinking that it made him less than a friend to you. Not even that. He could not even be the pathetic friend who was in love with you, it seemed. He was just the new kid you spoke to out of pity last year.

“Are you okay? You look worried.”

“Mm, yeah. I just feel sorry for all of your friends,” he muttered, grabbing the first book he saw and opening it by a random page.

“You’re my friend, too, you know that, don’t you, Kookie?” You pressed your lips when he kept silent and looked down at his wrist. He had such pretty hands, you thought. Maybe you had just been containing yourself since you knew all your friends except him since kindergarten. “See?”

Then you grabbed his wrist, smiling, and gently sunk your teeth into his soft golden flesh.

Jungkook whimpered as he pulled his arm away from you. “N-noona!”

It hadn’t been a whimper of pain. At all. You had had your fair share of physical contact with other people and you knew there was no pain behind his cute noises. The mere thought made you rub your thighs together, but you didn’t lose your shit and bit his wrist again, chuckling.

“Ah, noona, stop…” he moaned. His eyes shone with a weird glow. “Let’s… Let’s focus back on the study, please.”

How uncomfortable he seemed to be made suddenly you feel incredibly bad. You, his trusty noona, his reliable older sister, had been turned on by his voice, by his groans, when Jungkook was clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“Sorry.”

“I… Gotta go to the restroom for a second,” he muttered, rushing to get off the bed without even facing you. You nodded to his back. “I’ll be right back.”

But Jungkook took his time to return and, by the time he was back, his bangs a little wet, you had already finished with your homework and felt the urgent need to get away from his room—everything, from the sheets to simply the air lingering around, smelled like him, and it just fuelled the fire inside your guts.

That had been the first and last time you bit Jungkook, and not because you didn’t want to. On the contrary, it was incredibly hard to resist your impulses.

Back on that awful pre-exam day, with all the faculty libraries fully stocked and the dorm’s Wi-Fi getting weaker and weaker, you and Jungkook had plunged back into a bubble of concentration, though yours barely lasted a few minutes.

Once you looked away from your laptop, you turned to Jungkook, who, on his back, was working on his paper for Mr Choi. You could see his thick neck swallowing saliva from time to time, his eyes fixed on the screen with a small blue light alloy. Oh, this boy was so bad for your health, how had you even hold yourself for all those years? You had suddenly forgotten.

The repetitive sound of the computer keys, along with how little your last americano had woken up your brain, ended up bewitching you, and you slid into a relaxation bubble, absorbed by the way the words appeared on the screen at the same time his fingers typed.

You turned in his direction, sneaking one of your legs next to him, and barely noticed how he tensed up in front of you.

His T-shirt had a loose collar, which fell a little lower than his collarbone, and you ended up resting your chin on his shoulder to watch him write his soporific work in more detail.

However, attracted by his warmth, by his earthy scent that resembled the smell of winter sunshine, you slipped your nose into the skin of his shoulder and did not notice how your teeth gently dug into his tender flesh.

Jungkook’s chest reverberated with a soft moan covered by his mellow voice. Without realizing it, he had lowered his hand to your thigh during your lazy embrace and squeezed it the moment you bit into his shoulder. He threw his head back slightly and closed his eyes as his fingers dug into your thigh.

Fascinated by his reaction, you stuck your teeth into his neck again, this time dragging them a little before you pulled your head away from him. A shiny bite mark decorated beautifully his golden skin.

“F-fuck, noona, you can’t just…!” he whined.

That was quite a similar situation to that school day, but there was something about the way Jungkook whined, about the way he bit his lip, about the way he had thrust his hips—almost imperceptibly—about the way his fingers sank into the flesh of your thighs, that told you that no, that situation was very different.

Jungkook tried to laugh the whole situation off and reached out his hand, which had moved away from your thigh as if it were burning his palm, to grab a pillow and place it on his lap.

Fuck it all, I guess.

With remarkable physical exertion, you propelled yourself onto the leg that was prey to Jungkook’s hand and lay on his lap, landing your ass on the pillow that absurdly hid his erection. The friction made him hiss as the small bites throbbed on his skin.

Then you finally kissed him, grabbing the loose neck of his tee and sinking your face on his, fed up with all that nonsense you had been telling yourself of Jungkook hating your bites.

You deepened the kiss and stroked his lower lip with your tongue, warning him. Then, when he gasped again, you snuck your tongue in his mouth and finally began to devour him with all the passion you both had inside.

He was the first to speak as soon as you parted your faces, his neck reddened by the craving of passion, and he looked into your eyes. “For… for real? Is this really happening? I’m not dreaming again?” You could just laugh at his words. “I’m serious! Fuck, I’m so hard already, noona…!”

“That’s my Kookie, all hard and ready for me.”

You kissed him again, biting his earlobe first and dragging the soft skin with your teeth as you pushed him against the bedding of his messy bed. It smelled like him too, but why would you care about that when you had your golden honey boy in your arms, whining and moaning as you completely devoured him?

Jungkook coughed a little when he tried to speak, choking on all the saliva that was pooling in his mouth. “W-wait, noona… How far do you wanna go?”

“As far as you’ll let me,” you answered without looking at him, still absorbed by the way your teeth were digging into the other side of his warm neck. “Why are you asking? You don’t have any condoms and you don’t know if you’re clean?” You finally looked at him.

“That’s not it… I’m pretty sure I am…”

That made you smile. “That’s good—I’m on the pill and I’d hate not having you cum inside.”

You weren’t making it easy for him to confess that he had never had sex with another person, or that no one had ever jerked him off or given him a blow job. Listening to you talk so naturally about the way you would fuck him into madness made the hair on his nape stand on end in a mixture of erotic euphoria and the most outrageous fear of ruining everything.

“I’m a virgin!” he finally spurted out.

“What?” you asked, shocked. Then you rose from his chest to take a better look at his face. “How so? I can’t believe you’ve never had the chance to get laid. You had half the class whipped for you back in high school.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “Well, everybody thought I was your boyfriend, and they kinda respected it… And I didn’t really meet new people outside school.”

You felt so bad for the poor thing, not having been able to enjoy sex during his teenage years because of you and your stupid, cool reputation. And you hadn’t even been fucking him.

“But I didn’t mind, noona, really… I liked that they thought so.”

“You don’t hate me? Why did you never tell me about it?” you insisted, “I can’t possibly be okay with this, Jungkook. I’m sure you would’ve liked to experiment in high school. This is ridiculous.”

Jungkook closed his eyes and ground his hips against yours. Suddenly his face looked no longer angelical and shy, but desperate, raw, needy. When he opened his eyes again, they glowed, watering, with pure lust.

“Noona, if you knew the things I’ve done behind your back. If you knew how many times I’ve touched myself at night thinking about what it would feel like having you bite me all over my body, you really wouldn’t be okay with it… I hated seeing you do it to your friends, they couldn’t enjoy it as I would have…! And when it finally happened the first thing I did was getting hard, like the horny virgin I am. So disgusting.”

You chuckled. “Should I leave you alone? You seem to be enjoying yourself a lot, Jungkook.”

“Call me Kookie,” he begged, “I’m Kookie. To you, I’m Kookie, noona, please.”

“Okay, Kookie.” And there was that pout on your lips again and the smile that preceded it when you called it that. “You asked me before how far I was willing to go, and I said as far as you would go. How far is that? What do you want us to do?”

His dick twitched the second you spoke. “Everything. Anything—I’m okay with anything you wanna do to me, noona, I’m so fucking okay with it… You left me so alone when you graduated, noona, and you’re going to Tokyo next year. You’ll forget about me. I want you to be my first, I wanna have marks from you all over my body, I wanna remember you—but I don’t want you to forget about me,” he suddenly whined, “I don’t want you to go.”

You let out a groan of compassion from your throat and took his face in your hands. Still lying on his bed, you kissed him again, deeply, trying to imbue the kiss with all the love you felt.

“I’ll only be away for a year. Then I’ll come back and stay in Seoul,” you said, caressing his cheeks.

“Will you be with me?”

“I will be with you. Now.” The expression on your face changed completely as an avid sly smile stretched your lips, and your hand went down under his shirt. “You haven’t answered me. What do you want right now? You’ve never been touched before by anything that isn’t your hand, Kook. I should compensate you.”

It was too soon, and you were too turned on to just sit on his lap and ride him, and if you sucked him off he wouldn’t last longer than a minute, and it’d also ruin is self-esteem, so perhaps it was better to start with the basics.

The sound the fly made as you carefully lowered it with your hand gave him a chill that went down his spine and ended up making his dick throb inside his underwear.

You were greeted by his tip, slippery and red and glossy, which peeked through the edge of his underwear. The contact with the cold air in the room made him shiver and pant, caged under your arms.

“God, Kookie, you don’t know what you’re doing to me…”

“Tell me,” he panted, “Tell me… what you wanna do to me.” Jungkook couldn’t hold back a whimper when your thumb circled his sensitive red tip. “Ah, please, noona!”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” you said as you pumped his shaft, making him shiver under your body. “You know, Kookie, I thought it’s too soon to just ride you until you’re on the verge of tears, begging me to let you cum inside my tight pussy, but if I give it a second thought… That’s fucking turning me on.”

“Yes, noona, ride me, please.”

You finally got rid of your sweatpants under Jungkook’s hungry, eager gaze and, before taking off your underwear too, you took his hand and made him caress your clothed cunt.

“I’m soaking wet, see, Kookie? Imagine what it’ll be like under my panties. Imagine what it’ll be like inside me.”

“So hot and damp. I’m sure your pussy is so tight, noona, so wet,” he moaned, thrusting his hips into the empty air. “I won’t last inside you if you’re like this, noona. Fuck, I won’t last a second.”

His voice had taken on a hint of worry, so you took his face in your hands and bit his cheek gently, gently, as you sat on his lap. “That doesn’t matter to me. In fact, I like it—I’m dying to see your orgasm face, so I’ll make you cum so fucking hard you won’t even be able to think about it.”

Jungkook didn’t really know how to reply to that, so he simply moaned when you took off your panties.

“I can feel how hot your pussy is…”

“And now you’re going to feel it even more, Kookie,” you laughed. Slowly, he got inside of you. Feeling the way his dick slowly stretched you out as you sank down on him, perfect girth and perfect length, you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment. His breath had become heavy and shaky, his eyes tightly closed, and you could feel him shaking underneath you. “Breathe, baby. Don’t be so tense.”

Then the poor boy coughed again, choking on his own spit. “I’m just… trying not… to cum, noona, but you’re so tight and hot and wet and it feels really, really good…!”

“Should we go deeper?”

He nodded after a few seconds, still not opening his eyes. What a shame, you thought, not having the visuals of the first time his virgin cock was buried in your hot, wet cunt. But then he bottomed out, and it made him open his eyes with a moan that made you clench around him.

“I’m close,” he panted again.

You didn’t respond, but simply lowered your hand to your clit and massaged it at the perfect rhythm as you dug your teeth into his neck, pushing your hips against his.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” you managed to say, claiming his neck with your lips as your teeth gently bit on the soft golden flesh. “Are you gonna come inside noona, fill up her pussy? C’mon Kookie, I know you can. Let me see your cute face.”

Looking up at you, tilting his head to the side, Jungkook twitched inside of you and pouted as if he was about to burst out in tears. The poor boy was overwhelmed. So, you bent over him and kissed his lips, whispering against them that you were eager to see him come, to see him moan louder and gasp and sob.

Jungkook whimpered into your mouth, as you were still kissing him. “Yes, yes, noona, yes, I-I’m gonna-shit, please, noona, I’m so close!”

“Fuck, Kookie, you feel so good,” you moaned, caressing the hair of his nape, “Come for noona, let her see how you fill her up.” Then you bit him in the neck and sucked on the reddish mark your teeth had left on his honey skin.

That was the last straw for Jungkook, and let out a breathy whimper as you felt him rubbing his feet against the bedding, shivering underneath your body, overwhelmed by the intensity of his orgasm. The poor boy was on the verge of tears, and you were loving it, the feeling of his cum filling you up, even if you knew you weren’t going to make it despite being so close.

Then, with a jolt, you realised he had started bleeding from the nose, the glossy blood seeping through his parted lips.

“Fuck, Kookie, you’re bleeding!” you breathed, rushing to putting a strand of his fringe behind his ear, “It’s normal to bleed in your first time, babe, don’t worry… I’ll get you something to wipe it off. Anyways, the air in your room is so dry, you should get a humidifier…”

Jungkook nodded. He had started to come down from his high, but you were still sitting on him, dick buried deep in you, so the boy gasped when you moved your hips to fetch him a tissue.

You smirked. “Sensitive, are we? Are you going to help noona come?” you said then, heeling, leaning back and forth as Jungkook shut his eyes tight and grabbed your hips so you’d stop moving. However, he did not. In fact, his hands helped your sharp movements, lifting you until you only had his tip inside and sinking you down on him again, making him bottom out. “Do you like it, Kookie? Do you like it when I fuck your spent cock? Are you going to cum for me again?”

You couldn’t help it—your baby Koo was coming again with his cum-covered dick buried deep inside your cunt, heels rubbing against the blankets because it was too much. Yeah, you couldn’t help the knot unravelling inside your belly, making you clench around him.

Enjoying the last remains of your orgasm, both riding Kookie and rubbing your clit until it was too sensitive, you leaned with both hands on his sweaty chest with a smile of utter satisfaction.

“I know you said you were a virgin, Kookie, but tell me, have you ever watched porn? Don’t lie to me.” He nodded, barely able to open his eyes, frowning from all the overwhelming pleasure he had just begun to get down from. “I bet you love to watch girls being stuffed up with a man’s cum. Don’t you, Kook? Ever wondered what does it feel like? Having someone’s warm cum filling up your pretty little hole.”

You slid the tip of your finger up and down your labia, collecting his cum mixed with yours, and rubbed it against his ass hole, creaming its rim, your finger ghostly hovering over it.

“I-it feels good,” said Jungkook, “And nasty.”

You kept covering the skin of his butthole with his own load, taking your time to cover it so it wouldn’t fall down easily. “It’s really nasty, Kookie, you’re right. Better clean up the mess, don’t you think?”

Then you slowly went down his chest until you found yourself in front of his balls. The last thing he saw before you dived between his legs was a sly smirk, and then everything went white when your tongue found his sweet spot after digging for a few seconds. The pleasure of feeling your tongue licking parts of his body that he had not even thought of touching clouded his vision, and suddenly his world was only your tongue and his trembling body.

“Fuck! Noona, shit, shit…!”

Jungkook arched his back, stunned to feel his cock slowly hardening again despite having come just a few minutes ago.

You decided to give him a break by moving your lips away from him.

“Is it too much, Kookie?” He nodded without hesitation. “But here I thought I should compensate you for all those amazing orgasms you could have had if I hadn’t been in your way. You’ve never complained about me taking care of you, though.”

Then you kissed his balls and licked the thick vein crossing his dick to the tip before engulfing with your mouth all that fit in. You could feel it twitching over your tongue.

“Mm-please noona! I’m going to cum if- Ah, ah!” Jungkook’s eyes were watering already.

Smiling and bobbing your head up and down. You were ruining him—you knew it, this probably wasn’t the way he’d pictured his first time to be like—but he was loving it. Every moan, every gasp, every wet sob that shivered throughout his throat. Every unintentional jerky jolt of his hips that made him look down to you with the most blatant fear of having messed up, until you reassured him with a long kick up to the flushed tip of his dick to let him know that everything was okay.

“Mhf, please, noona, ple-please, I can’t, I-I…! I’m gonna come…!” The mere thought of the next words coming out of his lips could bring him to the verge of orgasm. “In your mouth, noona, I’m gonna cum… mouth! Shit, shit, please, let me!”

You took your lips off his shaft for a second. “Do you?” you purred then, licking on his tip with short strokes of your tongue. Your fingers slid into his already prepped hole and you rubbed your finger pads against his prostate until you set the perfect pace. “Come for your noona, c’mon, baby, Kookie, cum for me,” you breathed against his slit.

Jungkook barely gave you any time to swallow his dick again, so you almost missed his cum shot. The warm liquid went down your throat and you kissed his tip with wet lips, enjoying the way he twitched against your tongue.

“Stop, stop, please,” he begged you, pressing his things together beneath you, “I can’t, don’t…”

“It’s okay, Kookie,” you muttered before kissing his inner thigh.

His arms welcomed you with a mix of sweat and mellow, fluttery eyes, rushing to embrace you as if not having you against his chest was the worst thing that could ever happen to him. You smile, turning over to have him against your chest, and kissed his forehead after you covered both of you with his comfy blanket.

Jungkook smooched your earlobe, still breathing heavily. “I’m going to miss you so much, noona.”

“I’m going to miss you too, baby. Noona’s gonna feel so lonely without you…”

“No, you won’t,” he scoffed. It was hard not to notice the harsh pain in his voice.

You turned around to face him, and Jungkook moved over the bed with a frown, too fond of his previous position over your soft breasts.

“You’re gonna leave, noona, I get it. You’re gonna find a boyfriend in Tokyo, and you’ll forget about me. I know. But it’s okay, noona, I swear—I still have this moment to keep with me forever, and I-” You stopped him the second you saw an anguished tear rolling down his cheek. It shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t be crying. Was it your fault? “Sorry, I-”

“I’m not gonna leave, Kookie. I’m not gonna leave you, either. And one day I’ll be the one to see you off at the airport before you take an aeroplane to, I don’t know, the States, and I’ll miss you so much, baby, as much as I’ll miss you next year.”

He finally dared to look at you through his wet eyelashes. “You’re gonna miss me?”

“Every single second,” you muttered against his lips before kissing him, too engrossed in the earthy warmth oozing from his skin to notice drowsiness taking its toll on both of you. “I’m going to miss you every second I’m away from you, Jeon Jungkook.” And, being buried in each other’s arms, you decided to follow him and closed your eyes, leaving any worry behind.

A few minutes later, Park Jimin, Jungkook’s roommate, came into the room along with his friend Kim Taehyung and they watched them silently until the first one whispered, looking at his also shocked friend:

“I told you! You owe me twenty thousand won!”

Don’t hesitate to like, reblog, and leave some feedback if you liked it! It’s always good and encouraging to know what you think <3

“Biting dogs seldom bark” is copyright ²⁰²⁰ Lola Bangtan, all rights reserved

[inkandpen22]

Somewhere (1/?)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader  

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.7k

Series Summary: Based in the early summer of ‘78, tonight Y/N is celebrating her 18th birthday. Her protective older brother and their friends take her out dancing. She envisions the perfect night! 

A/N: In this story, muggles are aware of the wizard world. The series is based on West Side Story and POV switches between Sirius and Y/N. The red dress is based of the Saturday Night Fever red dress btw lol 

Masterlist

Reader

While business slows down in the boutique, I hurry along on finishing last-minute tasks before the weekend. The goal is to get all of these orders done before closing. 

“Hey, Lauren?” I shout for my best friend as she finishes stocking up the backroom for the weekend. 

“Yeah?” She calls distantly. 

“Could you bring me two of those navy cardigans when you come back out?” I recite, looking over the shipment list in front of me. 

“Sure thing!” She complies. 

Today is my eighteenth birthday. To celebrate, my older brother, Brady, is taking me out to the disco with our friends. It’ll be the first time I can go out to a club and drink. That’s not the most exciting part of today either! I’m officially an adult, a functioning, independent, member of society. My brother and his friends will no longer see me as the youngest who’s in constant need of looking-after. Brady has always been overprotective, but Lauren has tried to help convince him that I can take care of myself. Lauren and Brady have been dating since they were in high school, almost five years now. They’ve graduated from college and Lauren is eager to be married. In my opinion, it’s only a matter of time. I can’t see either of them with anyone else. Plus, I already consider Lauren my sister. 

Lauren appears out from the backroom with a bright grin as she joins me at the register counter. “So, are you excited?” 

“Yes! It’s going to be so much fun!” I gush, practically bursting. “Finally after four years of watching you guys go out with me, I can join!” 

She gives me a knowing look, “did you ever end up showing your brother that dress you picked out?” 

I bite down on my lip, pretending to return my attention to the order sheets in front of me. I can already hear her reprimanding, Brady’s too when he sees the bright red off the shoulder dress I picked up yesterday from the shop down the street. The fact that it’s off the shoulder will go over like a led balloon. 

Lauren’s jaw drops, “Y/N!” 

“I know, I know,” I sigh, trying my best to avoid a lecture. Moving around to the other side of the counter, I head to the office with the order sheets. 

Lauren follows on my heels, “he’s never going to let you go, especially if you step out of your room in that dress and those matching heels you bought!” 

“But it’s my birthday!” I plead, turning to face her with puppy-dog eyes. “My eighteenth, the most important one! It’s my first night as an adult.” 

Lauren sighs defeatedly and I continue to express a poor, pitiful, pout. I can tell she’s on my side, but she also doesn’t want to go against her boyfriend. I understand her predicament, yet then again, my brother can be unreasonable too. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” she offers, rubbing her temples stressfully. 

I jump up and down, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you! Thank you! Oh, thank you!” I repeat profusely. If Brady is going to listen to anyone, it’s her. 

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t get excited just yet,” she parts from me with a stern expression. “Your brother won’t be happy. I will vouch for you, but it’s up to you to stay in line. Tonight is your chance to really prove to Brady that you’re not a baby anymore.” 

I nod my head frantically, “yes, yes, of course! Tonight will be perfect! Promise!” 

Lauren narrows her eyes with a smirk, unconvinced. She hums, taking the sheets of paper from me to put them in the office. 

Tonight will be perfect! I can feel it. I’ve been waiting for this night ever since I can remember. After tonight, everything will be different. 

____________________________________________

Reader

As I listen to my Gloria Gaynor record, I stare at my reflection in my full-length mirror. More specifically, I admire the red satin dress that hangs off my shoulder. It’s everything I imagined it would be. As I think about it, it’s funny, I don’t feel any older, I don’t look any older, yet I feel different. 

Over the music, I hear a series of knocks on my bedroom door. "You coming, Y/N?” Brady calls from the other side. “Lauren and the others are here!"

"In a minute,” I announce, lowering the volume of my music. “I have to do my makeup!"

"You look fine as you are!" My brother insists as I hurry into my bathroom. "Besides, someone is really excited to see you..." he insinuates.

"I have to look immaculate,” I argue, rushing to put on my makeup in front of my skin. “Plus, Jay can wait!"

Working as fast as I can, I follow a makeup tutorial Twiggy did for Cosmo. It’s crucial I perfect my eyeliner and large lashes. 

"We're just going to the disco," he huffs, growing impatient. He would never last as a girl.

"It's my eighteenth birthday!” I remind him. “It's the first time I can drink and actually go into a club. Let me do what I want!” I then shoo him away, "go entertain your friends downstairs!"

"You have ten minutes!” He announces as a form of compromise. "Everyone's waiting for us!"

Mouthing the words to Gloria’s latest album, I’m practically dancing already and we’re not even at the disco yet! If only tonight could last forever. I want to ponder every minute, every second because tomorrow will be just another day and the magic will be gone. 

Sirius

James stopped by my apartment to go over things for his wedding to Lily, but I have other plans. 

"A disco?" James repeats with a frown, rolling over to lay onto his stomach on my bed. “And why would we want to do that?” 

"Muggles really love them!” I tell my best friend as I move about my bedroom to get ready. “Plus, it’s the start of summer! We are officially Hogwarts graduates, what better way to celebrate!” 

"Why can't we just go to a bar in Diagon Alley?" He reasons. 

"You'll like this place, promise! Muggle music…” I struggle to describe it. “It’s unlike anything I've ever heard before!"

"But muggles are so... mundane,” he shakes as though he just caught a chill at the thought of them. 

"I invited Remus and others too," I mention, certain that'll help convince him to come.

"At least we'll know people, I suppose," he shrugs, at least now considering the idea. 

"Just give it a chance, James. Watch, after tonight you're going to want to spend every night of our summer holiday there!" I predict, nearly positive it’ll happen. 

"Oh alright,” he complies with a huff, rising up from my bed to get ready. “I guess we don't have anything better to do," he grumbles on his way to the door. "Plus, we won't have to worry about any Death Eaters joining in on the fun."

Reader

I hurry down the stairs, to join Brady and his friends, Jay, Adam, and Henry, in the living room. The boys and their girlfriends have already started drinking while listening to some Queen in the background. They’ve gathered around on the couches and armchairs as they’ve done countless times before and after going out together. My brother is the only one standing, leaning against the fireplace mantel with a glass of scotch. Brady is the first one to notice me enter the room, he takes in my appearance in a scan of his eyes and waves me over. Clenching his jaw, he downs the remainder of his drink. 

“What are you wearing?” He asks rhetorically, wasting no time to reprimand me. 

“A dress,” I sass. 

“Cute,” He remarks sharply, not finding amusement in my response. “Go change, now.” 

“Oh come on, please,” I beg, taking his hand pleadingly. “It’s not that revealing and it’s my birthday!” 

He shakes his head, pointing toward the steps. “Go, hurry up.” 

“One night! One night and I’ll return it first thing tomorrow!” I negotiate. 

He glances between me and his empty glass, twirling around the leftover ice cubes, clearly debating whether he should accept my offer. 

“Please…” I mutter, pouting dramatically to get a rise out of my brother. 

He huffs and turns to the group. "Alright!” He shouts to gain their attention.” All eyes shift to me and my brother. “Jay, boys, I need to keep an eye on Y/N,” Brady commands of his buddies as he wraps an arm around my waist protectively.  “It's her first night out and the last thing she needs is uninvited attention, especially from wizards," he mutters the last part with disgust.

I look up at my brother in confusion. “Do you think they'll actually go to a human club?" I ask him, the idea never once crossing my mind. 

Wizards don’t really interact with us. In fact, they’ve created a whole other system and lifestyle apart of our own to avoid us. Different schools, stores, forms of government. I would imagine they have discos of their own. 

Lauren steps forward, "they're actually considered human-"

"Lauren!" My brother barks, causing his girlfriend to bite her tongue.

"That's debatable," Brady’s best friend, Jay, grumbles disdainfully, focusing on the drink in his hand. 

Henry and Adam hum in agreement, looking at Brady like he’s a preacher. 

"If we do see some, just stay clear, okay?" Brady orders strictly. Based on the sharpness of his stare, I best not test him. 

"How will I be able to tell?" I mumble, having only seen a wizard once or twice my whole life, at least consciously. 

According to Brady, and the others, wizards have the uncanny ability to appear normal just like us. However, in recent years, there’s been trouble amongst the wizard race. There’s a group of wizards who want their society and ours to be completely separate. My family and Brady’s friends are quite fond of the idea. In fact, most people are too. It’s such a frequent topic in the news,  in addition to the tensions surrounding it,  that I’ve grown annoyed by the dramatics. 

"Believe me, you'll know,” Brady assures. “They're so dependent on their magic that they can't help but use it."

"Okay, I will..." I mutter, wondering if I’ll truly see magical-beings tonight.

_________________________

Masterlist

[high-warlock-of-brooklyn]

And baby I'll rule, I'll rule, I'll rule, I'll rule, let me live that fantasy (Chapter 2/2)

Ao3 LINK, Chapter 1 LINK

Chapter summary: It's time for the Hunter's Moon Ball! After the fated encounter in the Brocelind forest, Fate brings Alec face to face with the gold eyed boy once again. This time, Alec decides to have a word with the elusive Prince of Magii.

Chapter 2 Square filled: Hunter’s Moon (for @shadowhunterbingo)

Alec’s first Hunter’s Moon was, from the start, unexciting. His usually busy parents were practically non-existent for their children due to the wartime efficiency in planning the Hunter’s Moon required from both of the royals. 

Isabelle was only ten years old, and more interested in learning secrets of the trade from their old Spymaster, Hodge Starkweather. The little time she didn’t spend learning how to blend into crowds or how to obtain answers from cryptic messages, she spent it in her own personal closet. The Princess’s closet is still a thing of dreams among the servants, and Isabelle allows few in it, even though she’s more than generous to them in matters of gifts.

Alec, being only thirteen at the time, as well as a young Prince at risk for assassination during the festivities, was kept far away from large crowds. And while he appreciated being left alone for once, it had also left him incredibly bored. So when Jace had asked him to slip away from the castle to see the comet up close, Alec had taken him up on the offer after only a little of his friend’s pestering.

The castle watchtower, being the highest point in all of Idris, was understandably the best place for watching the stars. Jace had nicked some of his father’s whiskey compartment, and while Alec had only a few sips, the two had talked for hours of courtly duties and what every courtier sounded like, and tried to make a caricature of it. Dawn had come sooner than they’d expected, and Alec, fearing a riot at hand after the guards found his room empty, had motioned to leave.

On his way down, there had been this boy, hidden away in an alcove, watching the stars, feet dangling down the balcony in a dangerous decision that rivalled some of Jace’s own. Alec had wanted to go ask his name, but Jace had whispered about hurried footsteps of guards, and they had to leave anyway.

All the commotion made the boy turn his head, and all Alec remembers, crystal clear from that night, are eyes of molten gold, framed in silver lines above the cheek.

Like liquid sunlight and moonshine trapped in human form.

And now, after twelve years of searching, that boy is standing in front of Alec, having saved an innocent animal with an impressive set of knife skills.

Alec tries to ask him something, his name, which of the kingdoms he’s from, anything. But his guards intervene, Underhill leaning in to inform him about some recent development and the Queen’s orders for him to come home as soon as possible.

He catches Jace’s eyes, jerking his chin towards the crowd as a question. Jace bows slightly, a gesture meant to convey that he will take care of this all. Assured, Alec mounts his horse once more, galloping as fast as he can towards the castle.

------------------

“Your Majesty.” Alec courtesies as soon as he reaches the throne room, panting after running the whole way from the stables. “You wanted to see me.”

“Yes, Alec.” Maryse calls out to the courtiers and the guards. “Leave us alone. Isabelle, stay please.”

“Of course, Mother.” Isabelle puts away the paper at hand. Alec sends a quick glance towards his sister, silently asking if she knows what this is about, getting a soft nod in return.

“Isabelle tells me that the Prince of Magii has reached our kingdom.” Maryse leans back on her throne. Alec recognizes the gesture, the one he’s seen countless times during strategic meetings.

“I thought King Asmodeus wasn’t looking forward to joining us after the talk of the accords fell through eight years ago.” Alec turns to look at the Spymaster. “What changed?”

“The King has fallen out of commission. Too ill to rule. Left behind a vacancy.” Isabelle’s red lips stretch in a deadly smile. “A Prince-shaped one.”

“Perhaps the young Prince can be persuaded towards a treaty, then.” Maryse muses. “In any case, I want you both on guard.”

“Of course, Mother.” Alec nods.

“An unknown element being introduced like this….” Maryse looks between her children, “Alec, you would be running point on this. Isabelle, refer to your brother in case of any major decisions. And keep me apprised of what happens. Be on guard. If all these years of rule has taught me anything, it is that you can never be too cautious of who your allies and enemies are. Do you understand, Alec?”

Alec stands a bit taller, well aware that this will be a test for him, not just to his mother or his country, but to himself.

“I understand, Your Majesty.”

----------------

“Stop fidgeting, you look fine.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Then stop doing that.”

Isabelle slaps Alec hands away from where he’d been fiddling with his cuffs. After years of battlefield training, Alec feels naked without a bow in hand, or at least a sword, and his hands itch to fly to the only detachable parts in reach.

Isabelle has truly outdone herself with their outfits, Alec thinks as he smooths a hand down his jacket front. His sister looks radiant in her black ball gown, a slash of gold right down her chest up to her waist in an immaculate arc. Anyone looking at her dark ruby necklace and complicated updo might not think of her as a deadly warrior, but she prefers it this way. Even though Alec knows the truth of the sharp knives lined up in the hidden holster round her thigh, a twin to the one sitting snug around his ankle.

Alec, on the other hand, looks nothing less than a King. The navy of his tuxedo is a shade dark enough to be mistaken as black in dim light. The only splash of brightness is the gold bow tie Isabelle insisted he pair it with. He’s a shining beacon of royalty to anyone and everyone, just as he asked his sister to present him to be. If he’s going to rule, he might as well start looking the part.

The bow and arrow cufflinks however, are utterly unmatched to the rest of his outfit, at least to people not privy to their origin. King Robert had been an excellent ruler, a perfect swordsman, and a good husband, but it seemed that his perfection had trickled low when it came to being a parent. Robert had been dubious of Alec choosing a bow at such a young age, thinking it somehow tainted his skill with the sword. Alec had entered the annual championship hosted by the Five Kingdoms out of sheer pettiness, disguised himself as a commoner, and had won the prize with nothing but his bow and quiver.

Standing today before so many dignitaries holding his every movement, every word under scrutiny, Alec feels seven year old again.

“Alec,” Isabelle nudges him with her elbow, “your speech.”

Alec takes the flute of champagne Isabelle offers, clinking his spoon against it as customary. Everyone turns to face him, silence blanketing the hall like a shawl in a cold afternoon.

“My honoured friends and allies, welcome to the Hunter’s Moon ball.”

A roar goes up from the crowd. Alec smiles warmly at the Lupine dignitaries cheering for him, right alongside his own subjects.

“It is customary for the ruling monarch to deliver the first toast of the ball, but I have been informed this is a special occasion.” Alec faces the Magiis seated by a large window, the golden-eyed man noticeably missing. He tries not to let his eyes wander too much in the crowd in search.

“For the first time in more than half a century, all Five Kingdoms have been reunited under this very hall.” Alec raises his flute. “Let us start off the season with hopes of peace anew, and bonds forged in light as bright as the comet itself.”

------------------

The party starts full-fledged after that, everyone mingling and drinking and having fun in a way that is entirely impossible anywhere outside these sacred halls. The Law of the Moon forbids any conflict inside the hall as long as the party lasts, and the patrons seem to take full advantage of it.

“I thought the host was supposed to be inside the venue.”

Alec turns to face the owner of the smooth voice, trying to contain his surprise when a pair of molten gold eyes stare back at him. “Just collecting my thoughts.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.” The man offers a smile, turning to leave.

“You can stay. If you want, that is.” Alec wants him to stay.

“Okay.” He comes to stand next to Alec, body twisting to lean against the railing, the witchlight in the balcony casting sharp shadows on the deep golden skin. “I’m Magnus.”

“Crowned Prince of Magii.” Alec notes, half to himself, before extending an arm in greeting. Magnus returns the gesture. “You weren’t at the toast before.”

Magnus heaves a sigh. “Some news arrived from Magii. I left my father ill at home. I was afraid it might’ve been something drastic.”

“How is he?”

“He’s stable, for the time being.” Magnus says.

“I’m sorry about your father.”

“While I appreciate your concern, my father is a- complicated man, to say the least. I know you must’ve heard the rumours. We haven’t seen eye to eye on anything since I was a child. To say I have mixed feelings about him would be an understatement.” Magnus barks a humourless laugh. “Now that he’s ill, I honestly don’t know what to think.”

“He’s your family. Family is always complicated.” Alec takes a swig of his champagne. “May I ask you something?”

“What’s in it for me?” Magnus raises an eyebrow, a hint of a challenge gleaming in his eyes.

“How about an exchange? An answer for an answer?” Alec offers.

“Deal.”

“The night of the last Moon, twelve years ago. Were you in the southern alcove of the palace?” Alec asks.

“I was. And yes, before you ask, I did see you and your friend that night.” Magnus answers, eyes boring into Alec’s own. “Now you owe me two answers.”

“Fire away, then.”

“Okay.” Magnus regards Alec closely, eyes running from head to toe. Alec feels a sudden urge to squirm under the intensity of that gaze. “I heard you don’t use a sword in the battle, that you favor bow and quiver more. I’d like to know why.”

Alec smiles to himself. “It started because my best friend said mastering a longbow will be harder than mastering a sword. I liked the challenge, I suppose. But then- you know how us royals never truly lead a battle in the front lines?”

“I’m aware.” Magnus’s jaw ticks.

“It’s always the foot soldiers dying in the front line while the monarchy hangs back to strategize and secure. I suppose I wanted to be useful, even if I’m kept away from the course of action. With a sword you can only stab and kill and maim, it’s all swashbuckling. But with a bow you can aim, and know who you kill, and be aware of exactly whose life you’re responsible for.”

Magnus points at Alec’s hands. “Is that why the famed Idrisan Prince is wearing a decade old pair of cufflinks?”

“No, these-” Alec looks down at the slightly marred pieces of gunmetal, “these I won at the Five Kingdom Championship when I was nine. I wanted to prove to my father that I could be just as much of a king with a bow as I would be with a sword. I disguised myself as a farmer boy so they wouldn’t throw me out of the competition or accuse me of being played favourites.”

Magnus regards Alec closely. “You continue to surprise me, Prince Alexander.”

“In good ways, I hope.” Alec finds himself smiling bashfully, the Magii Prince returning the gesture generously.

“So, is this the ball where you try to find a suitable match?” Magnus asks, eyes suddenly faraway. “Prospects are abound. Surely there has to be someone that catches the eye of the man who would one day be king.”

“Why, do you have any suggestions?” Alec asks, curious.

“Me?” Magnus lets out a self-deprecating chuckle. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about marriage for love. It’s all saving the bloodline and securing a legacy. Love has no business in a palace. Or so my father tells me.”

“I’ve always known that my sister’s eldest will inherit the throne.” Alec nods determinedly.

“Don’t want any children?”

“My ability to procreate is rather limited, given my…. inclinations.”

“That’s the fanciest way I’ve ever seen someone come out as gay.” Magnus tries to hide a smile. “For what it’s worth, I’m bisexual, and do have the option. But I’d rather not.”

“You don’t want heirs from your bloodline?” Alec asks, feeling curious.

“Well, let’s see.” Magnus faces Alec. “My father was betrothed to the daughter of the most influential person in the kingdom. But after the marriage, they found out that the new queen could not bear children. My father took the matters in his own hands.”

Magnus looks away from Alec, eyes focusing on something far away, and in a way, Alec supposes he is too at the moment. “There was no love lost between my parents. It was rather like a business transaction, you can say. She was a lowly farmer’s daughter who wanted better things for her poor family, and my father only wanted an heir. She died during childbirth.”

“I’m sorry.” Alec says, voice low.

“It’s quite alright.” Magnus seems to come back to the present once more. “As it happened, Queen Lilith didn’t want to share the throne, or anything else with another woman’s child. She wasn’t very maternal, so to speak. Even so, she somehow held my father together. I was six when she was assassinated. It seemed my father changed overnight almost.”

“So to answer your question, Prince Alec, no, I don’t want to continue this bloodline.” Magnus’s gold eyes seem to light from within. “Especially with the family curse still a possibility.”

“Beg pardon?” Alec asks, confused.

“Surely you have noticed my eyes are not the most usual in nature.” Magnus makes a two fingered gesture at his eyes. “When I was born, my father said I was blessed by Sammael himself. I call it the curse of the Magii.”

“You’re descended from Sammael?” Alec chuckles. “Sammael is a bedtime story for little kids.”

“What are you Idrisans ever so fond of saying?” Magnus pretends to think the question over. “Oh that’s right, all the stories are true .”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Like a heart attack.” Magnus answers. “Only he was not so much of a dragon as a evil warlord. Though changing his form does nothing to attribute his lust for wealth. King Jonathan lead the rebellion against him. The same Jonathan I’m sure you are descended from.”

“The two bloodlines reunited under the Hunter’s Moon after a thousand years.” Alec takes a deep breath, the crisp night air slowly turning warm as dawn approaches.

“I suppose fate can sense the impending kinghood on both of us.” Magnus comments. Alec opens his mouth to say something, only to be cut off. “Please don’t insult the capabilities of both our wonderful spymasters by trying to deny it, Your Highness.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Alec answers. “Actually, I was going to propose an alliance between our kingdoms.”

“An alliance?” Magnus sets his champagne flute on the balcony railing, turning to face Alec head on. “What makes you think I’d be interested?”

“The fact that as kings, neither one of us are inclined to continue the legacy of war that our ancestors started.” Alec says matter-of-factly. “You are ready end the royal bloodline for the sake of a new chapter, and I’d like Idris to be a part of that story.”

“Tempting.” Magnus’s eyes flicks downwards from Alec’s eyes, only for a moment, before coming back up. “We’d have to negotiate the terms, of course.”

“Goes without saying.” Alec adds.

“But, I will consider this as a not-so-distant possibility.” Magnus says.

Alec smiles, satisfied in the knowledge of a possibility of peace. Another possibility jumps up in his mind, and he straightens his shoulders. It’s now or never.

“Would you like to go out for a drink?”

Magnus glances exaggeratedly between the drinks at hand. “I thought that’s what we were doing already.”

“I meant more like a date.” Alec takes a deep breath, anxiety wracking his brain piece by piece already. “I’ll even show you the secret royal wine collection.”

“Giving up state secrets already?” Magnus’s gold eyes twinkle with mischief. “What will your council think?”

“That I’m very, very gay and I really want you to say yes?” Alec smiles nervously.

“In that case,” Magnus plucks the empty flute from Alec’s hand, setting next to his own, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Magnus reaches up on his toes to kiss him, and Alec meets him halfway, eyes closed, heart pounding. The kiss is gentle, the two still testing waters. Alec never wants it to stop.

Finally Magnus pulls away. “Well, you certainly know how to keep a man on his toes.”

Alec laughs, throwing his head back, a full on body shaking laughter, vibrations of which shakes Magnus too, the latter still holding onto Alec. Alec looks back at the party through the ceiling length glass doors, his sister twirling Lady Clarissa, both radiant in their joy. Jace looks happy as he talks animatedly with Jonathan Wayland, Lady Roberts deep in conversation with them. He finally catches the eye of a member of the waitstaff, beckoning him forward for a refill for them both.

“To new beginnings.” Alec raises his glass, clinking with the one in Magnus’s hand.

“May they usher in peace,” Magnus stares into Alec’s eyes, “and love.”

Inside, a roar of clapping goes up as the sun rises and Hunter’s comet passes fully. Outside, the future Kings smile, eyes radiant in the sunshine, a new dawn ushering.

[ssson-of-sparda]

WHAT FORTUNE GAVE - CHAPTER 1 (VERGIL X NERO’S MOTHER)

Summary: Vergil arrives in Fortuna and crosses path with a rebellious lady dressed in red. But even if he doesn't want pay attention, Fortuna seemed determined to intertwine their lives.

(PROLOGUE)

Tags: Romance / Angst / Fluff / Explicit Sexual Content / Explicit Language / Canon-Typical Violence / Blood and Gore / Religion / The Order of The Sword / Civil War / Rebellion / Demons / Action and Adventure / Sparda’s past

Author’s note: So, let me introduce you to Elissa aka Nero's mother. I've decided to make her rebellious and quite feisty to mirror Nero's impetuosity. After all, that kid had to take after someone, right? So why not mummy dearest? I know the story might seem slow to start but I need to set up the scenery for the events to come. Hope you like it anyway.

It all started on a Holy Thursday, on the first day of a most-welcomed vigorous spring that tinted the cityscape of the Castle Town of Fortuna in luminous shades of gold and blue. The cobbled streets were empty, the shops and cafes all closed, for all the inhabitants were gathered inside the Cathedral whose majestic dome overlooked the nearby Renaissance-style buildings, a sacred beacon calling the devotees to pray. But the religious establishment was nothing in comparison to the partially-veiled giant-like idol standing tall and massive within the ramparts of the city, a figure made of stone and marble with the face of Vergil’s father. It didn’t look very resembling to him. Sparda never had such delicate features, not in his son’s memories at least. But it did not matter. The young man wasn’t here to judge some clearly distasteful architecture. He was here for the answers and the promises of power that island kept in between its walls.             “The Order of the Sword, huh? They worship a demon as a god?” This reality sounded foolish, incomprehensible even. His father was no god. He knew that better than anyone. But what was religion if not idealisation, divinisation of a flawed man? Humans …

***

“Elissa!” A fearful whisper pronounced the girl’s name but it would take more than a whisper for her to stop her mischief. “Elissa! Come dddd-down!” The girl named Elissa smiled, enjoying the risk she was definitely taking. Degrading the Savior? Not her first time. But she had never climbed that high before. “What if sss-omeone sees you … sss-ees us?” She rolled her green eyes, weary of the perpetual anxiety shaking the already very trembling voice of her friend. “Agnus! Stop being such a pussy!” She shouted-murmured, not really knowing why she was murmuring at all. “Everyone’s at church!” Agnus fidgeted even more as he saw the young woman taking her time spraying blue paint on the statue, the tip of her rosy tongue out, an adorable display of her concentration and perfectionism. “Does it look like the Guard’s symbol to you?” She demanded, observing her rebellious art from all possible angles.     Agnus sighed and looked up, regretting to have left his lab for this childish yet dangerous adventure. He wasn’t a teenager anymore. He even had a woman and a baby daughter waiting for him at home. So why wasting time playing vandals with Elissa? He knew why. “You’re not looking under my skirt, are you?”          The man blushed, terribly uncomfortable. “What? Of cccc-ourse not!” But he was a scientist and scientists were curious beings. That’s what he was telling himself each time he was thinking about what was hidden underneath Elissa’s crimson clothes.The Cathedral bells rang loud, signalling the end of today’s mass. Soon, the people of Fortuna would invade the streets again to come back to their boring daily occupations. “We’re definitely gonna get ccc-caught.” Agnus told himself. “What am I gonna tell Marcus?” A suspect noise stopped Agnus in his alarming thoughts. It was coming from a few streets away. Squeals and growls of fury and pain. Demons? “Ddd-did you hear that?” Elissa listened carefully and recognized the screams. She had heard similar ones in Mitis Forest recently. She had shut a lot of them up too. They were demons alright but not the worst kind. “Just a few …scarecrows.” She tried to reassure Agnus but realised he was already gone. “Such a pussy.” She shook her head, slightly exasperated but not surprised. Agnus was not famous for his bravery, quite the opposite. He was a coward but Elissa was okay with it. After all, he had been providing the Guardians with very useful information concerning demons for a few years now, all that thanks to his natural talents as an alchemist. The girl jumped off the statue and, in order to remove the beige dust from the fabric, shook her old red dress typical of Fortuna fashion, one of the few clothes she had kept from her past life in the Order and that she now used to blend in among the Fortunans each time she would venture in town. She then cautiously pulled up her skirt to reveal a thigh belt hidden under the white petticoat and strapped the spray can, right next to a sharp curved dagger she kept in a thin leather sheath just in case.        “Hey! You!” Did we say cautiously? “Shit!” Time to run.

***

Yamato shone in the sun, casting a shadow on Vergil’s young face that even this small fight hadn’t manage to fluster, and once again the blade made one with the saya with a perfect clink that echoed like a lethal musical note in the demon-cleared street. “Just what are your true intentions?” He wondered out loud as he wrapped his blue frame under a linen cloak that looked foreign to anyone who would take a look.Elissa took a look, green eyes staring with curiosity from under her white hood she had carelessly thrown above her head in precipitation to cover her soft locks of fiery ginger when she had left the place of her previous mischief as fast as she could, successfully escaping the angry guards shouting at her.           She took a look, knowing exactly what this stranger had just done as she watched him crossing the crowd with purpose, alone, going up the street towards the Cathedral while everyone was walking down, their minds still lost in religious psalms.             She stopped in her track for a second to admire him, wondering who he was and where he came from. She imagined a distant city at first, somewhere far away from here, crowded with people who hadn’t been indoctrinated by the Order’s promises. But then, as she noticed his bearing, so stately and yet so lonely, she thought he wasn’t from a particular place but from many places. A wanderer, traveling the world, someone who held knowledge, who had seen what was beyond the horizon of Fortuna.            He probably noticed her stare as he concealed his face even more under his hood and slightly hunched his shoulders. So, out of respect and despite her devouring curiosity, Elissa walked away, certain that if Sparda wanted her to meet this mysterious strange again, then their paths would cross one more time.Vergil quietly made his way in the main avenue where the marble giant was standing and slowed down when he noticed a small crowd gathered by the statue’s feet. Everyone was gasping in shock, hands over mouths as if they were the witnesses of the worst sacrilege, the most terrible infamy.       Wondering what the fuss was all about, the Son of Sparda peered over everyone’s shoulders from a distance but close enough to spot a graffiti plastered on the leg of the thing the Fortunans seemed to call The Savior. It was a symbol of some sort, a pair of winged arms with sharp claws protecting Sparda’s horned head. It had been drawn with turquoise paint that was still running down the immaculate white stone and that was leaving a heavy odour of solvents in the ambient air, identical to the one Vergil had smelt when that girl who had stared at him with insistence had walked past him, an odour indicating Vergil when the degradation had been made and who had done it.He scoffed briefly, amused by the political provocation and the over-dramatic reaction of the bigoted crowd, and after glancing one last time at the spray-painted symbol, resumed his exploration of the city.       “Looks like appearances can be deceiving in this city after all.” Vergil said as he thought about the rebellious girl in saint clothes who didn’t seem to be new in the graffiti drawing business according to the devotees’ wrath. “Those rebels again! Soiling the image of Sparda with their belligerent propaganda. Hope the Order will find them soon.” They agreed with each other with angry nods. “They are worse than demons! They probably hide in shadows like the rats they are.”     Had Vergil just stepped in the middle of a civil war?

***

When her holy hood fell back on her shoulders, Elissa sighed in relief, glad to finally feel her soft ginger hair finally liberated from that awful religious cage of white cotton she couldn’t stand wearing anymore. Few more minutes and she would also get rid of that ridiculous dress that constricted her like a straitjacket. But right now, she had a meeting to attend.      Summoned by her leader, probably to claim responsibility for her new roguishness that had caused such a big turmoil in the city this morning, she pushed the door of Guardian Marcus’s office without an ounce of fear or apprehension. She knew full well she would not be reprimanded. She never was.  “Elissa! My child, come.” The white-haired old man welcomed her with wide opened arms and showed her a seat before him where she sat in silence and waited for him to say what he had to say.At first, he just stared at her, without a word but with half a smile and a look of amusement he couldn’t keep to himself. And finally he spoke with a cheerful tone. “You should have painted it red.” His loud laugh echoed in the room and he took a huge sip of the red wine waiting to be drunk in a fancy chalice next to his velvet armchair.            Elissa had a timid respectful smile; unable to act casual with this man who, even though was distant family, had been leading the cause she was fighting for for so many years, since even before she was born. “How did you find out?”           “Agnus told me.” He admitted and gauged the girl’s reaction who seemed more disappointed in herself than surprised. “Should have thought so.”    “Be careful who you surround yourself with, Elissa. Offering someone your trust can be as dangerous as any blade. Believe me, I know.” He traced the large scar along his wrinkled face, a reminder of an old betrayal that had made him lose, in addition to his left eye, a man he used to call brother and who was now leading Fortuna thanks to his lies and his dark secrets. Sanctus. “I shall remember your advice, sir.” “But you know what surprises me the most? It’s that Adel didn’t try to talk you out of this. After all, he follows you like a shadow … an enamoured shadow even.” Marcus smiled, trying to build complicity with this young lady, the granddaughter of the brother he had lost long ago, a child he loved like his own. Elissa smiled in return and shook her head, having trouble to believe she was having this conversation with her leader. “And yet you seemed keen on refusing his advances. May I know why?”        “I didn’t know this was a matchmaking appointment.” Elissa humoured, definitely amused by the situation. “I’m old and I’ve been at war for most of my life. So let’s say, the frivolity of youth and the burgeoning loves are like peaceful songs to my heart.”        Elissa sighed and her heart, in spite of this new attempt at making it yield to a man she didn’t love, once again refused to see Adel as nothing else than a friend. “I’m just not interested. Enamoured shadows are not my type.”         “ And what, pray tell, is your type?”

***

Vergil had visited many places in his short lifetime. Perpetually on the move – he refused to say ‘on the run anymore’ for running was for the weak – he had seen so many cities, so many different landscapes, some in shades of blue, some in shades of green and other in shades of gold, so many colours most men would have forgotten but that he had somehow always cared to remember. But there was something about Fortuna that made her unique, different from all the things he had had the chance to see.         Perhaps was it the anachronistic almost medieval atmosphere that had shaped the city architecture and the inhabitants’ lifestyle or perhaps was it because every edifice seemed to hold secret knowledge about his family.  Whatever it was, Vergil was sure of one thing; what made Fortuna special were clearly not the city’s filthy underground bars from Port Caerula, well hidden under the docks, away from prying eyes that would be easily outraged by the debauchery they held between their walls. That kind of place he was familiar with, despite his revulsion for them and the people frequenting them.           “Hello, sugar. You’re a new face.” An eccentric woman declared as she tried to take a peek under Vergil’s cowl, her voluptuous body leant against the bar. “And a handsome one. I would lower my price for a face like yours.” The young man glanced at the woman, shortly but long enough to see how she looked, the embodiment of repulsive tragedy that once looked beautiful.             Her makeup was smeared and barely hiding the bruises and the cuts on her young face and she was wearing a church outfit ripped at the thighs and purposely unbuttoned to reveal her generous cleavage. And in her velvet purse, she kept a wig made of dry artificial ginger hair some despicable men had certainly asked her to wear more than once.       “Not interested. Now leave.” Vergil’s tone was curt and cold but she insisted anyway.        “You’re sure? I make the best blowjobs in all Fortuna. Isn’t that right, Captain?” She nodded towards a young charismatic brown-skinned man carrying a crossbow on his back and drinking sitting the stool right next to Vergil. When he heard his name, he spared a glare at the prostitute and at the Son of Sparda as well for no particular reason but because he hated his occasional obscene deviations to be exposed. “He just looooves some naughty church girls. Do you like them too?” Vergil ignored her and focused again on his drink, lying untouched on the bar. He didn’t like drinking. “Or do you prefer them innocent and prudish? I can be either.”  “Quit with your lies and just leave, Pomona².” The dark-haired man ordered with a strong voice that made her smile.       “ Ha! Looks like I finally have my name back. See you around, sugar… Adel.” She winked and left to sell her body to someone else that would accept it in exchange of a bit of money.“You should not visit that sort of bar if women like Pomona bother you, stranger.” The so-called Adel warned before drinking from his tankard. He, just like everybody else here, could tell Vergil was not from around. All they had to do was looking at him. After all, everyone knew everyone else in a small reclusive island like Fortuna. “It’s sometimes the loudest, worst people that give all the information a man looks for.”     “So you’re looking for information then. About what?” Vergil was a curious man but he despised curiosity in other people, especially when he was the subject of their curiosity.            “Nothing a man like you knows about.”        The answer surprised the Moor who hadn’t expected such arrogance coming from a stranger. “Well, piece of advice. If you want information in Fortuna, there are two ways to get them. Either you don’t behave like an arrogant asshole or you pay for them.”     Vergil smirked slightly under his hood as he already knew how to react to such pathetic insult. Adel was not a difficult man to read. “Just like when you want a woman’s love, am I right?”             The provocation burnt and stang like the most vicious hot poker piercing through

Adel’s dignity and ego. It pushed him to stand up and grab his crossbow in retaliation.         But his weapon, as precise and strong as it was, was useless in close combat and it instantly met the sharp blade of a magnificent katana that would make any swordsman worth the name grow pale. And with a dexterous swift move, the crossbow flew across the room as if it was a paper plane.But the clients in the bar didn’t gasp at the legendary Yamato. They gasped at the silvery-white hair adorning Vergil’s head that had been revealed when he inadvertently had lost his hood in this express fight. “It’s the hair of Sparda.” People whispered, amazed.     With an expert graceful move, Yamato found his saya again and Vergil walked through the crowd, high-handed and resolved to escape this place and all those bothering eyes he felt upon him.But as he pushed the door of the establishment, he came face to face with the feminine figure he had noticed in the streets this morning. It stopped him in his track and for the first time in his lifetime, but certainly not the last, he looked into her deep green eyes.  They reminded him of an old poem he loved greatly, one he had read so many times and would never grow tired of, about a dark forest and a tyger burning bright³. And as he gazed in that girl’s look and witnessed that emerald wood, wild and dense, trying to conceal in vain the fiery fur of a predator, Vergil knew he would never read that poem the same way or imagine Blake’s colours in the shades he would normally imagine them.               And so he stared, longer than he wanted, almost the same way she gazed at the pale blue topazes and at the god-like silver hair crowning his head. But while fire is wild, the ice is timid. And thus, admiration only shows through the eyes of the red lady.    And when she finally opened her mouth to speak her mind, Vergil escaped into the night leaving lost shadows behind him. But that was fine. Shadows were not the lady’s type after all.It all started on a Holy Thursday, on the first day of a most-welcomed vigorous spring that tinted the cityscape of the Castle Town of Fortuna in luminous shades of gold and blue.      But among them there was this vibrant red and two sparkling amber-tinted emeralds reflecting brighter than anything else in a pair of icy eyes, a mirror who strangely wouldn’t mind seeing that reflection again.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: ¹ Marcus: derived from the name of the Roman god of war, Mars to highlight Marcus' status and personality. ² Pomona: From Latin pomus "fruit tree". The word "Pomme" is also the French for "apple", the fruit of temptation. Pomona will come back in other chapters. ³ a tyger burning bright : From William Blake's poem The Tyger

[thelostguardianau]

The Lost Guardian- Chapter Eight

“Heed the Silenced”

(Authors note: aha.. yknow I should probably stop making promises for this fic. Months later, w/ a chapter that doesn’t have Thomas in it, three different outlines down and i’m really just at the mercy of this fic at this point xD considering midway through writing this chapter I had to cut and rewrite an entire scene i’d spent a month on bc I’d decided that Dee had a chance at redemtion that added an actual direction and a tangable end goal to this story. So. Yeah. And!! A loud Thank You!! to @bumblebeekitten for helping me bounce ideas back & forth for this au and being my beta for this chapter!!)

Character Info & Art:

Patton | Logan | Roman | Virgil | Remy | Deceit | ??? | ???

Chapter Seven | Chapter Nine

Fandom: Thomas Sanders Sides

Pairings: Eventual Polyamsanders (LAMPR/CALMR-a.k.a LAMP/CALM + Remy ‘Sleep’ Sanders)

Warnings: THIS CHAPTER IS KINDA DIALOG HEAVY!(sorry) Currently depicted as morally grey Deceit(subject to change in future chapters), though the side of Deceit from his first appearance doesnt make an appearance in this chapter and it is explained why, mentions of past betrayal and dark descriptions of bodily concepts, curses, limitations, and changes only really explained as possible through the lore of this au. Deceit speaks in riddles because he has to, ominous warnings. Virgil still isn’t okay mentally. Mentions of indifference to death, lack of selfworth or self preservation. (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

[[MORE]]

Brown eyes flutter open at the chilly breeze of a fan, and the ravenette’s mind comes to realize that he’s been moved from resting on his stomach to laying on his back. Groggy from his much too short nap, it takes a few moments to realize there are no warm bodies near him or under him, no breathing or chatter of familiar voices to sooth him.

The room, he realizes, is empty.

The room itself is, in fact, not Remy’s bedroom at all.

Shooting straight up, Virgil’s first clear thought is that he’s back at home. At his apartment, this time in his hoodie yet still roughed up from his latest ‘adventure’. The scene is eerily familiar, and yet he knows this time that work is not where he needs to be. It’s already daylight and his mind now knows this familiar scene, he should feel alone. Yet, this time he can hear the sound of honking cars and people, his loud neighbor from upstairs stomping around.

It doesn’t make sense as he walks to his window and peers out to see vague cars and people, he can’t even seem to make out any individual faces. It’s grey and raining outside, but there is no pattering sound against the foggy window. ‘What’s happening?’ Virgil wonders.

“Life seemed so simple a week ago, even months ago, did it not..?” A familiar voice drifts from behind him. Ice cold fear shoots down the ravenette’s spine as he recognizes the voice.

“I can hardly believe you were able to leave it, your routine. It was your everything, back when you came to terms with what you had left. Am I wrong, Virgil?” Whirling around to face the voice, Virgil finds the terrifying ex-Guardian sitting on his couch looking quite at home, if a little sheepish.

“What do you care?” He spat back, stepping back against his window.

“I am only looking out for you, you know. I have been protecting you all your life. Of all people I think I would know what is best for you, don't you think? We are connected after all, you and I.” The man sighed, making a surrendering motion with his hands.

“Why would I trust you?! You tried to kill me yesterday!” Virgil growled. “Why--h-how are you even here!?”

“False, my dear Virgil. I tried to warn you. Sure,” The guardian rolled his hand as he spoke, “I am forced to have a round-about way of speaking my truths, it is just part of my consequences it seems. But how else was I going to get you to listen to me after the others fed you lies about me? I do sincerely apologize for my other half being rough, though. I cannot quite.. Control.. Him.” The guardian tilted his bowler hat down to guiltily hide his eyes, regret briefly twisting his expression.

Finally the Guardian stood, dusting himself off as if his immaculate attire had acquired dust from just existing in his apartment. “I needed my physical body to reach yours and make our soul connection strong again, so that my soul could reach yours. However.. The pain I caused you was far from my intention. I am deeply regretful that it came down to.. That awful encounter.

“To answer your question though, Virgil, I am here because I created ‘here’. A realm made to form this illusion of being home, sweet home, just on the corner of the little street you had come to live on for the past year. It is all my doing. Where you stand is simply an illusion only you and I can access, a manipulation of your dreams and memories. The only place where the real me can talk to you mostly unhindered.” The guardian gestured to his surroundings.

“It takes only one person to flip your life on it’s head, a matter of hours to make the decision of a lifetime, and a matter of days to have completely changed your life’s direction,” He turned to Virgil, and looked him straight in the eyes, feeling distant and lost.

“And only a matter of years to succumb to the depression of the lonely consequences..”

Virgil blinked at that. The sad, longing tone had him thrown for a loop; it almost felt like the Guardian wasn't even quite talking to Virgil. “I-What..? I.. I don’t understand.”

The Guardian shook his head, snapping out of it and refocusing himself. "Nevermind that. It is time I talked to you for real, if you will have me?" The Guardian held out a hand politely, though there was no real expectation for Virgil to take it.

After a pause, Virgil gave a slight nod, still suspicious of the other's intent. The Guardian returned the nod, and his hand fell to his side.

“I am limited to the time that you rest and for now I will not be able to explain myself thoroughly, so, I ask you to understand that I do not expect you to trust me when I am done. I honestly do not expect you to ever trust me. With the mistakes I have made, I firmly believe I would not deserve it.”

Virgil blinked in surprise, not having expected his captor to admit to his faults straight off the bat.

“Okay.. Well, we’re here, might as well hear your side of the story. So.. Shoot.” Virgil said lightly, distrust and suspicion still evident in his tone and stance.

“I would assume at this point you are well aware of how the story you have been told paints me as the villain, a mastermind seeking power, immortality, and revenge? At least, that is what I am led to believe is still the story, it has been many years since I have heard the tale first hand… And... Well. Would that not be so lovely?” Virgil made a face, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“I am serious. Life would be so much easier if it was all black and white, true or false, good and bad, would it not? If those who meant well knew everything and those malicious few could not corrupt anything?” The Guardian frowned a bit, frustrated with his words that couldn’t seem to cooperate with him.

“Would it not be lovely if I could talk to you without fighting to keep from turning every honest thought into a question or theoretical statement just to let it be said? That my words could hold a meaning not forcibly disguised in the forms of fables and riddles?” The Guardian looked down lamely, his words tapering off in agitation. For a moment, Virgil waited as the Guardian was silent, contemplative. Then, the next moment the Guardian’s face scrunched up in sadness and his words were soft as he placed a hand over his golden wrist markings.

“My story is complicated, and twisted with shades of grey. One could say what I did was an attempt to keep you safe, another could say that what I did was outlandish and impulsive, and stupid. But no one will be able to tell you that what I did went according to the plan I had... at first. No one will tell you that my intention was to save you, to keep your fate safe. No one will tell you that my plan was ruined. Because there is no longer anyone who remembers what happened that night except for me,”

The Guardian’s eyes flicked up to meet the ravenette’s, a hurt look passing over his face as he continued. His steady voice now just barely trembled with uncertainty as he continued.

“No one but me and the soul who wants so desperately for everyone to forget. The soul who ripped my own in two to bury the secret, and ruin you and I both.”

“My final warning is this: Beware of the man who carries the world on his shoulders unflinchingly, he will be watching you closely. You have immunity to his power thanks to our connection, you might use this knowledge well to find the truth that lies in plain sight. However, your fate lies in the decisions you chose to make with this knowledge, I can only warn you of what might come.” The Guardian nodded solemnly, choosing to finish his cryptic warning there.

Virgil stood there, reeling with the information. Sure, he definitely wasn’t completely convinced he could trust this cryptic stranger, Guardian? Foe? Friend? Virgil wasn’t really sure what to call him anymore. But damn, his life was already so fucking crazy, this was all just fucking crazy! He could just be dreaming for all he knew.

But… Deep inside, he was hoping he wasn’t.

This was, well. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting to hear when facing the man whose, er, body? Had originally tried to strangle him? Now he’d heard his sob story and, well, Virgil wasn’t that easy to fool, but he’d also been told that it wasn’t expected that he’d trust the guy even in the end and he didn’t really want to.

He’d been on the path to death for so long, and then just two days ago everything had changed. So much was happening, it was frankly exhausting. What the fuck was he, some book protagonist? Couldn’t he get a little time to think about all this before he went crazy?

Still, something under all his incredulity begged to hear the guardian out. He vaguely wondered how Stockholm Syndrome worked before he gave in a little. What difference did a little more crazy make in his life at this point?

“Fine, I’ll heed your warning, or whatever the fuck. But only if you can tell me what you mean when you said that this guy ripped your, uh, soul? In two.” Virgil huffed, partially relaxing. It was odd how comforting he found it to be, floating in this weird feeling imaginary world, where he could interact with objects that weren’t real. It felt like he was really standing in his home, and yet it was just built from memory.

The guardian’s solemn expression formed into a grim smile, eyes distant once more before nodding. “I will do the best that my words will allow.” Virgil nodded, and waited for the now very familiar stranger to gather his words and take a breath. Then he began, his markings lightly flashing gold.

“You find yourself whole one day, as you have always been. To be whole of body, whole of mind, both human and guardian in nature. To have conscious thought and control over your whole physical being and soul..

“You find that yourself and others of the winged variety are capable of separating your soul from your being, though only the most Elite can do it well. You find out the family you made would soon be in danger. You then find yourself lost and alone when you once had a home to call your own.

“You find yourself knowing a truth, a perilous truth. Your home is in shambles now that you are gone, yet they do not know it. This truth is at fault, but the blame is not fully your own in a world built on lies.

“The source of truth tucks itself into blankets of grey, drawing itself further from discovery with each passing day. Now only you know the truth. The source of the truth finds you, it seeks to hide you too.

“You find yourself split one day, as you have never been before. Forced apart from the body, trapped within the mind. Guardian in nature, to have conscious thought and your dying soul trapped within, a false mind piloting the puppeteered confines of a broken body with a blind goal.”

“You find you cannot control what you used to, you are a prisoner to a body that is no longer your own, mostly unconscious to the world around it. Crazed by the false emotions that fuel it.”

“The you that used to be is no longer, and has not been for over a hundred years. The world that knew you knows not of what you’ve become. Knows not of the shackles that bind you.

“The you that used to be is no longer, and will never be again.” The Guardian finished, hesitant yellow eyes meeting Virgil’s carefully. Phantom goosebumps trail down Virgil's arms as the final sentence strikes a cord in him.

Virgil found he really wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, the rawness in the other’s tone spoke volumes of the sore spot they’d reached.

“Your body rests, but your mind also needs time to process today. I shall see you when you next rest, though only if you wish to seek me. Rest well knowing that you will not be scooped from your safety once more, as I hope I’m never to do so again. And...” The guardian paused, considering their next words very carefully.

“I know it is selfish to ask... but, I hope and wish that Thomas is alright, after all this time... Do take care of him, would you?”

Virgil paused and stared, finding only concern and longing in the guardian’s expression. And, well, fuck. What a way to pull at a guy’s heartstrings.

“Er, yes. Yeah. I’ll try my best.” Virgil gave his signature mock salute, the Guardian tipping his hat in return.

“Trying is all I could ever ask of you, Virgil. Rest well, you will need it.” And with that final sentence, the world around Virgil gently grew dark, and he sunk into the comforting arms of sleep.

Despite it all, Virgil still found his mind vaguely conscious. Sluggish at best, but awake nonetheless.

He figured it was likely some lingering effect from the Guardian’s dream realm, but didn’t dwell on it. His life had way too much else going on to be debating the side effects gained from Guardian powers.

First, he’d been pretty damn convinced two days ago that he was going to be a goner by the end of the month. Completely resigned to die believing that his very existence was scorned by the world he’d been unwillingly born into.

Then Patton had stumbled onto his shitty apartment’s roof, found him in all of his resigned and depressed glory, and changed his life forever.

They’d mostly skipped the whole ‘Human nature is a series of life, death, and rebirth’ spiel that guardians were known to give in these situations because... Well, It wasn’t like they’d really had time to address it before the truth about his soul had come out. That he wasn’t exactly human to begin with.

Virgil didn’t think that Guardians had ever had a situation like his before. There wasn’t a protocol for comforting a kidnapped guardian soul. It’d never been a possibility before!

So it wasn’t surprising then, that Virgil didn’t have any better of a time processing it.

His whole life, all that he’d known to be true, all that he’d believed in? Everything had been uprooted and turned on its head. He’d apparently been living a life that was not supposed to be.

Perhaps for the first time in two days, Virgil realized that the thought of his death at the end of the month had not been consistently worming into his brain. It had once been something he could never seem to stop thinking about.

The death indicated by his soul timer was now perhaps the farthest thing from his mind.

Perhaps the strangest thing so far was that he wasn’t alone anymore. He’d possibly had more physical contact with other people in the short two(three?) days since this adventure started then he’d had in the past 16 years.

And wasn’t it just the cherry on top that he’d also gotten nearly choked out by the very guardian accused of kidnapping his soul in the first place? And now he was considering trusting the damn guy.

Virgil hollowly wondered why he even cared.

Why did he care about staying alive now when he’s spent his whole life believing he never would? Up until two days ago, that belief had still been true. But now? Avoiding death was the goal, Logan had stated as much.

Really, would Virgil lose anything by trusting the banished guardian? Even if the guardian was trying to trick Virgil and got him killed, what difference would it make? That’d always been the goal before. What did he, Virgil, really have to lose?

If it happened that Virgil lived past his twentieth birthday, if he became a guardian like he was supposed to be in the first place. Would he want that? Did he want that?

He wasn’t sure. Didn’t know if he ever had been.

His life had been built on resignation to the inevitable. Nothing seemed to motivate him towards liking or hating that possibility. He was just that.

Indifferent.

And wasn’t that just the greatest revelation of the night? Finding out that you’re indifferent to living or dying.

Once this was all over, if Virgil lived that long, he would make a note to see a therapist. He knew very well that this kind of mindset was unhealthy to keep. It just couldn’t be helped that the nineteen years he’d lived with this particular affliction couldn’t be fixed by a few extra hugs and comforting words.

Even if he didn’t like the fact that death sounded like the more peaceful option.

His thoughts paused, mentally sighing at the downward spiral he’d caught himself in. It was tiring, and going nowhere.

‘For now,’ he decided, ‘I’m just going to see how this plays out. The Guardian said that none of the others remember the truth, or whatever. So, It’s a ‘he said-they said’ situation right now...’

‘I’ll have to keep an eye out for the guy that he warned me about, then. Who knows if he's as dangerous as The Guardian made him out to be. It’s hard to tell with the weird way he has to talk..’

Virgil paused again, a realization striking him. If he could have groaned, he would have. Not once had he been given or even remembered to ask for the name of said Guardian. What was he supposed to call the rogue Guardian now? He couldn’t just keep calling him The Guardian!

Amidst the disbelief of such a slip up, a foreign yet familiar feeling prodded questioningly at his conscious mind. Adding confusion into the mix of emotions, he returned the feeling with a questioning thought of his own.

He briefly heard the Guardian’s whispy voice once more, now acting with permission.

“You may call me Janus”

Then all at once, Virgil woke up.

.

.

.

Chapter Nine

[floral-poisons]

Hiii I saw your ask about how we write? Thought I will add my perspective.

Previously, I used to write once every few months after I binge read a lot. I liked mixing various ideas from different stories.

I started writing fanfics on Tumblr because I was pretty anxious for the past few months so I wanted to keep myself occupied. I am not very good at getting story ideas so I would see a one-liner and decide who it would suit, then I would picture the scene in my mind and it felt like an anime of sorts. Writing is very different because the story changes according to my mood xD

For example, fluff may end up with a little more teasing than I had wanted it to be, and so on.

Nowadays, I just think about stuff I want to do with Idia and insert myself in the scenario. Ngl, one moment we're in his room, the next moment, we are dancing under the moonlight, the next moment, he is telling me it's alright to be sad, and bam I have 5 fic ideas =.=

If I am talking to a friend and they say something funny, I end up writing about that with Idia xd

Today marks 2 months of me making Idia Shroud my comfort character. I gave myself a challenge to write 60 drabbles with Idia, one for each day I have loved him.

Right now I have written only 15 but the power that jpeg file has over me is immaculate.

I get pretty obsessed with my hobbies and I feel like writing is something that requires a lot of validation if you want to continue sharing it with other, so I have focused on just writing for the sake of Idia. I broke down a few times because I felt nobody liked my writing so honestly, I feel people need to have a clear reason for why they write.

I really vibed when you said it appears as a movie in your head cx

awww lyza. i hope you know regardless, your writing is amazing and will always be loved. it takes a lot of work to begin writing for the sake of you but write for the sake of you! and idia!! i'm happy to hear about your process though!! i'm rooting for you! fighting!! 💕💕💕

[dekuscrybaby]

dancing bachata with him

pairing(s): iwaizumi x reader, nishinoya x reader, bokuto x reader, yamaguchi x reader, tendou x reader, oikawa x reader (all separate)

requested: no; just self-indulgent writing and i wanted a reason to listen to bachata

word count: 2.6k+ words

warnings: slight manga spoiler (timeskip)!! wrote this as gn as i could, but thought of a f!reader when i wrote it, sorry if i offend anyone. dancing gets steamy and suggestive. mentions and implications of sex, not proofread at all

a/n: i added some songs that i felt vibed with the character so feel free to listen to them if you want. gets repetitive at one point. this is also my second time trying to post this so uhhhhh apologies 

iwaizumi:

the birthday boy!!

so this man, i just know he knows how to dance bachata

i mean he went to uni in california, there’s a ton of hispanics and latinos there bro

i know for a fact he befriended one of them and by default, he was dragged to a party at one point

which is exactly where you are right now

you and iwa were invited to a mutual friend’s little sisters quince

so, you’re both sitting at a table as the music is roaring through the sound system

the moment iwa hears romeo santo’s voice begin to ring through the room, he’s instantly standing up, stretching his hand to you

propuesta indecente or odio vibe mega hard with this man

“let’s go”

“go where?” you asked, not really expecting iwaizumi to be into dancing

“dance, of course. unless you don’t want to?” a nervous expression was on his face now.

“you know how to dance to this type of music?”

“of course i do, i’m what you call cultured”

so you take his hand and walk onto the dance floor with him

you kinda know the basics of the dance style so you’re not too nervous when you get into your own space of the dance floor 

he put his hands in front of his body, a hint for you take them as he slowly began to lead you in the dance

you both kept your distance at first and you couldn’t help but admire the sensual way his body was moving 

you both moved in accordance to the songs beat before he pulled a quick on you

he intertwined your fingers on one hand and allowed his other hand to travel down your waist

feeling extra confident in himself, he pulled you into his body and slotted one of his thighs between your own

not stopping your movements whatsoever

“wasn’t that awfully smooth of you, mr. iwaizumi?”

“you already know it. gotta keep you on your toes, no?” 

to which you laugh at bc being with him is already a treat in itself 

definitely has you wrap both your arms around his neck so you can be closer

he has one arm hanging lowly your waist while the other sneakily settles onto your upper thigh

very smooth and touchy man

iwa makes sure to hold you so incredibly close while smoothly maneuvers you both across your little spot on the floor

he definitely spins you when he finds it necessary

would for sure end up kissing you during a song

maybe a cheesy ass dip at the end, even if doesn’t seem to fit the song

all in all, 1000000/10 dance partner

would let him maneuver me any way he wants 

nishinoya:

this is gonna be so self-indulgent so apologizes beforehand

so, in my head, noya travels the world a lot

and he’s a latin/hispanic king in the eyes of many so yes he’s visited various of these countries. you go along with him too ofc

and yes, he can dance bachata and various other dance styles 

unlike iwa, he’s a lot intimate about this bc he’s the ultimate simp

he’d do anything to have your body pressed tightly against his own

especially if you’re wearing something irresistible 

also unlike iwa, he vibes best with prince royce bc in my head they’re both like more upbeat and wholesome? idk if that makes sense but it does in my head

def incondicional or darte un beso vibes

BUT if he’s feeling frisky that night, definitely see te robaré

mans would not ask you if you want to dance

he’d DRAG you out to dance

strong believer that it’d be a good first for your relationship bucket list

“yuu, where are we going?”

“to dance, duh.”

“you didn’t even ask me though…”

“don’t have to! i know you’ll love it.”

“love what?”

“this.” he instantly pulls you into his body, wide smirk on his face 

there’s virtually no space between you two

can’t even slip a piece of paper between you two

your breath hitches at the close proximity, you can feel his breath against the shell of your ear

who knew noya could be this smooth?

your mind is definitely thinking of other activities but you come back to earth when he begins to dance to the beat

one, two, three, (four)

one, two, three, (four)

he makes sure to keep you in beat

while also making sure he can feel every ridge of your body on his own

your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck

has his around your waist

he likes sneaking playful gropes in your ass or even waist if he wants to be more innocent 

mans is touchy touchy, that’s the way to describe him easily

LOVES to spin you and also loves to be spun 

your full body is in motion with this man and you’re not going in just one direction, you’re moving every which way (very organized tho)

sneaks in kisses between spins

also an amazing partner and bc i am an extra simp for this libero i rate him a 10000000/10

bokuto:

also an honorary member of the hispanic/latino community

very very cultured man

he plays pro volleyball so he’s bound to travel to other countries

honestly, he’s never practiced bachata with a partner 

he has seen people do it though so he has a very general idea of how to dance it

bokuto is currently on an away game on a different country and he flew you out 

simp, you know?

you guys went to a club, destress a little and just let loose 

definitely vibes with monchy & alexandria bc the vibes are immaculate, especially on hoje en blanco and dos locos

anything that’s fast-paced and all-around energetic is perfect for mr. bokuto

also does not ask you to dance

but instead of just dragging you, he pleads for you with his eyes

puppy dogs before glancing between you and the pile of bodies dancing

you HAVE to take the hint or else he’ll be really bummed out

bokuto: 🥺👀🥺

you: ???

bokuto, in bold: 🥺👀🥺

you sigh at this, “kou, would you like to go dance?”

”i thought you’d never ask, babe! c’mon let’s go!” he’s literally beaming

you’re dragged away right after that

similarly to noya, he loves having your body pressed to his

but bc he’s not as experienced, he keeps you at a safe distance so he doesn’t accidentally step on you or something

that changes once he gets more confident

or when he sees a couple do something he wants to try with you

also loves to spin you

loves pressing your back to his chest and dancing like that for a bit before spinning you back around so he can see your pretty face

holding onto your hips and helping guide them just the way he likes

loves pressing his thigh between your own, might make you come closer so he can feel you better

also likes groping you, with consent ofc

sometimes he gets too distracted with the way you’re moving that he loses count of the beat and ends up messing up

part of the distraction would come from him smooching you anytime he please which makes you guys stumble a few times 

that’s okay though

he makes up for his mistakes in energy and enthusiasm 

how would i rank this man? hmm

1000/10 very fun to be around so he’s a very fun dance partner 

yamaguchi:

hate to say it but mans does not know how to dance bachata

sorry yamaguchi stans, just had to to say 

man works in electronics!!!

hardly goes out as it is

but you eventually get him to leave the house every once in a while

one of those times being rn, at a co-worker’s party 

you honestly can’t remember what it’s for but there’s loud music playing 

also gives me prince royce vibes but like,,, early prince royce, ya dig?

i’m talking corazón sin cara and even soy el mismo bc bro y’all are soft

you’d have to take the lead with him for the first few minutes of the song 

maybe seconds bc he’s a quick learner, especially if he’s observing 

this man is the only one who’d actually ask you to dance before even trying to drag you out of your seat

he looks at you with these cute eyes bc man is love in with you

“do you wanna go dance? this song looks like fun.”

“ashi, do you know how to dance this type of song?”

“well, no, but i want to try with you. do you want to?”

who are you to say no?

so unlike the other three, he’s a lot sweeter and maybe even shy while you’re dancing

idk if y’all know but he’s basically a little kid trying to dance with you

you guys keep like an arms distance and probably do not get much closer 

you guys do move your arms around and bring them a tad bit closer to spice things up

but otherwise, you guys won’t get too close, especially bc this is his first time dancing bro bachata

lots of soft gazes

he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world and that shit’s cute

loves complimenting you as you’re both dancing

all in all it’s just a pure moment, nothing too spicy for the first time around or second for that matter

10/10 dance partner, learns quickly but still not too confident in himself 

tendou:

KING!! HE IS THE MAN IVE BEEN SIMPING OVER FOR A WHILE

cheeky mf would be so good at this

does he know how to dance it?

no

but he’s the fastest learner and also very very sensual with these sort of thing so he’s amazing

idk what he does as a profession but he’s still the same person from high school, just a tad more professional in the workplace

gives me the fattest aventura vibes (if you haven’t realized i don’t know much about bachata, murder me)

obsesión and el malo vibe or maybe even los infieles

very similar to iwaizumi and his way of dancing bachata 

but less smooth and more cheeky

very very cheeky

“baby, let’s go dance”

“yeah, give me a min-“

you do not get a minute, his big hand is already instantly wrapping around your arm to pull you up

“tori, do you even know how to dance to this?”

he laughs, “no, i’m smooth but not that smooth.”

you’re left a little confused but the moment he pulls you in tightly, your worries disappear

“just follow my lead,” he whispers in a seductive voice

he places on hand on your waist and the other holding yours just at your waist level

he instantly slots his thigh between your own and leads you guys through your spot on the floor

loves when you pop your hip to the beat

as every moment passes, he pulls you closer and closer

to the point where all you can breathe is his cologne and the alcohol in his breath

might lean down to press a few teasing kisses to your neck

mans might even grind his crotch down on your thigh

he wants to leave you as flustered as possible 

was this a plan for him to take you back home so he could ravage your body? maybe, but he won’t admit, that’s the fun in it

also loves to spin you but he does it outward so he can catch a full look of how you’re dressed

bites his lip when he sees you enjoying himself

ceo of dirty compliments in your ear as you’re both dancing

LOVES LOVES LOVES seeing your flustered face as you guys are so so so close

he’d for sure try and start a makeout session in the middle of the song

something about the passionate atmosphere between all the couples, really gets him going

also sneaks in gropes along with the grinding

once he realizes how much he loves dancing to this music, he wants to go out and do it more 

rate for this man? 

100000000000/10 broke the scale plenty of times 

i want to be his dance partner, please 😔😔

oikawa:

HE LIVES IN ARGENTINA 

HE KNOWS ALL ABOUT ARGENTINIAN CULTURE AND AND OTHER HISPANIC/LATIN COUNTRIES

YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE

anyway, he takes you guys to a bar as well

you’re visiting him so he has to show you the best parts of the country and this is the end of your day

the spanish music blaring through the speakers gets him in such a great mood bc he wants to have his own little spanish opera moment with you

also gives me aventura vibes but the lighter more romantic music of it

very playful with it

def un beso and dile al amor or even ella y yo if he wants to get spicy with it (even if it’s like a mix of reggaetón and bachata, maybe pop, idk i’m whitewashed 😔)

“my love, do you want to go and dance with me? i love this song.”

“since when do you dance, tooru?” you tease him

“i’ve been a cultured man since i’ve landed in this beautiful country”

“really now?”

“yeah, would you like a demonstration, y/n/n?”

YOU CANNOT SAY NO TO HIM

especially not when he’s looking down at you with this smug grin on his face

does things to you, ngl 

he pulls you up and instantly wraps an arm around your waist as he leads you towards the dance floor

he knows how to dance so he instantly rests his hand on your lower back 

takes the lead without telling you, you have to have faith him and his skills

sways you both PERFECTLY in beat

his other hand is at his side but he is not stuff at all

his body is loose with it, just the way it should be

asks you to wrap your arms around his neck maybe even asks you to hold onto his cheek and give him a smooch

has you giggling the entire time bc he’s such a dork but he’s your dork

 SPANISH SPANISH SPANISH

he sings the lyrics to you in such a quiet voice just for you two to hear

he has an accent when he’s singing bc it’s like his third language but it’s still the cutest thing ever 

also loves praising you in spanish or even giving you spanish nicknames

“te miras tan hermosa, bailando conmigo así, mi amor.” 

you either know what it means or you don’t 

if you do, you’ll blush and come up with an equally cute spanish compliment

“gracias, mi rey. te vas tan chulo debajo de esta luz.” (thank you, my king. you look so good/cool underneath this lighting)

or you don’t have a clue what he said but he said in such a low tone that you assume he said something nice

“i said that you look so gorgeous, dancing with me like this, my love.” he laughs at the lost expression on your face

his laugh is contagious so you end up laughing as well before leaning in to connect your lips, as the song begins to dwindle down 

also enjoys twirling you about when it’s appropriate, adds in to the giggly fun part of him as a dance partner

now, i’m not a simp for oikawa but i would simp for him over him if he offered to be my dance partner 

i rate him a 100000/10 for a dance partner

[tarajenkins]

Please no more Square, I am at my (character) limit lmao

"The Light will not be denied!" 

I really do still wonder how anyone who played through ShB could reach the conclusion that a child with no Blessing Of Light ever stood a chance against the will of a Lightwarden. And not just any child--a child the Ascians intended to use as a doorstop to prevent the First from being destroyed before the Rejoining could happen, a child whose own trusted parental figure was willing to gaslight and manipulate them for the sake of their own power. A child whose behavior would absolutely need to fit a certain mold to achieve their ends. 

The Light corruption of a Sin Eater is confirmed by Halric's arc to be a lot like Tempering. Repeatedly Tempering someone, like Loonh Gah's mother in the Amalj'aa questchain, destroys their sanity. Emet-Selch's own dialogue up there confirms that the Warden essences in the WoL would not only drive them to madness, but violence. Vauthry had the essence of a Lightwarden forced into him before he was even born, and he had no higher power to protect him. 

Selch puts it plainly: the corruption of a Lightwarden is absolute in time, even for the WoL. I have yet to hear a good reason why Vauthry’s corruption would have been the sole exception to this rule. The “half Sin Eater” bit is brought up sometimes, but that is just buying into the lies his father told. Vauthry was already an entirely Hume infant. He was never “half” anything. He was already complete. He was corrupted. Tempered, according to Halric’s arc--blaming him for not fighting it is like blaming Thancred for the Waking Sands. It’s not a thing anyone can fight.

There’s also Yoshi-P asking players to ask themselves if Vauthry was really a friend of the Sin Eaters, or was he being controlled by someone.

(On a side note, I could have sworn it was stated the Ascians can't handle Light well, or at all? How did Emet-Selch even do that in the first place? Bad Writing(tm) \o/)

Silence Is Golden:

In a world where everyone rightfully fears Sin Eaters, a world where Eulmorans had fought them and died to them for decades, where those corrupted by fallen Sin Eaters have to be put to death before turning themselves--how would the mayor of Eulmore even explain his son's "gift"? Explain his son having a second, Sin Eater face in his chest? Explain that he allowed his child to be corrupted by a rando in a cloak, with no input from his wife? How did he keep her silent? Besides Square not bothering to give her dialogue, of course.

(Also, there was at least one other Minifilia in Vauthry's lifetime. The Minis all fought for Eulmore, as per Moren's book. How did they miss the Lightwarden now residing in Mr. Mayor's child? Did Hydaelyn know?)

It's such poor writing on Square's part to have left the disturbing Echo of how Emet-Selch “made” Vauthry as a footnote, and even moreso to have Wrenden claim in the hilariously contradictory patch 5.1 that Vauthry's father was the "good old days" of Eulmore. A man that would agree to let that be done to his own wife and child, a man who vocalized such disregard for his own peoples' lives, that was the good old days, really? The mayor who had "unrest" and detractors "stirring up the citizenry"? THAT mayor?

This is how far the writers were willing to go to dehumanize a fat man who had absolutely no consent or control in his “destiny”. And, speaking of dehumanizing--

--Square couldn't be arsed to treat Vauthry's mother like a character and not a convenient and silent womb, so we have no idea what happened to her. (My money is still on the Obscenity theory.) But since Vauthry only mentioned "Father", it sounds like the mayor raised him alone. 

What did Former Mayor do when his son had challenging questions about his father’s plans for him, or when the child balked at the answers given? How did he explain whatever happened to his wife? Just how much did "Father" have to manipulate that child's world to maintain the lies?

It’s strongly implied Former Mayor kept his son in a state of isolation where neither his word nor the Ascians' will could be questioned until the child was thoroughly brainwashed to believe, and there would be no questions then. Whether intended by Square or not, Vauthry does display many signs of an adult who suffered extreme isolation as a child. 

An entire childhood, with his likely only trusted source of knowledge and solace being someone who was grooming him for a power grab--and all the while, he can’t escape the presence of a creature inside him that drives mortals mad.

One of “Father’s” directives stands out in particular between the lines during ShB, though we don’t know how it came about originally:

Don’t tell anyone what you really are.

Even though Vauthry was given a good reason “why he was born as man and sin eater both", it still leaves the impression he was born because Sin Eaters are bad, and Vauthry needed to stop them from doing bad things--plus hush, don’t tell, people would find his existence bad if they knew the truth of it. Kids ask questions. Kids wonder. Feeling like an outsider hurts, let alone an outsider made of the same stuff that everyone fears. If Sin Eaters are monsters, then what was he? 

The fact Vauthry asked his father why was he born that way in the first place indicates the child instinctively felt there was something wrong.

The in-game dialogues appear to back this up. Although Vauthry's "heritage" was supposed to be this amazing thing, the true nature of it was instead lied about and kept hidden his entire life. Seems unusual for a guy supposedly convinced that he is “perfection”, doesn’t it? The fact that Eulmorans never once referred to Vauthry as "half Sin Eater" or a "God" during twenty years of his rule, the fact he only mentioned it himself before the Warden was about to claim him entirely; all well and good his father obviously invented some lie to placate the masses (“born with miraculous and convenient power” was all it took), but how did maintaining that lie, hiding who he really was, read to Vauthry all those years? 

During ShB, he still seemed to keep to the isolation he likely always knew. He never left that room. The citizens came to him when they wanted something, but it was never implied or shown he sought social contact on his own. Nothing was scaled to him, utensils, glasses, plates, etc.--as though he refused to single himself out as different from everyone else.

He called the Lightwarden’s awakening a “trial” to be embraced during Crown Of The Immaculate. Odd that someone supposedly convinced of his godhood would ever think he needed testing--but it makes perfect sense in the context of someone who always felt they needed to prove that they were worthwhile.  

He was proud of his power to protect his people, and proud of the paradise he built for them, but he didn’t want Alphinaud to paint a picture of him, he wanted a painting of the city. There were zero paintings or other monuments to himself in Eulmore. Lot of people in the fanbase speak of him being vain, yet he seemed to not want to be seen unless he had to be--almost as though, even toward the end, even through all the bluster, he still read being “half Sin Eater” as wrong.

With that in mind, there didn’t seem to be much evidence to even tell Vauthry he was born because he was wanted. He was born because his ability was needed. If not for his father’s ambition, however sweetly that may have been disguised, then to defend Eulmore against the monsters he was a part of. His ability was needed, not even him specifically--and the Eulmorans, with all their wishes and dreams to be fulfilled, could easily enforce the belief on the child that who he was didn’t matter, what he may want did not matter, only what he could do for others mattered. And what he did for them wouldn’t matter if they knew the truth of him. What a terrible, conditional ”love”. It could explain why he was so cynical about human nature. (Even though his predictions about human nature in the face of a dying world 110% came to pass in the Black Rose timeline. 6_9 gg G’raha) 

Yet despite all this, Vauthry needed to be convinced he was doing good for the shattered world. He needed to be convinced what he was doing was right, despite having power enough to not care. If Amaurot was Utopia, then Eulmore reminded me very much of Ursula K. LeGuin’s Omelas--a paradise, at the cost of one child’s eternal suffering. 

Food For Thought (and Bad Writing(tm)):

A lot of people have a boner for the cannibalism implications of meol despite the bad math behind it, but fucking meol, how does it work? 

Sin eating historically was to cleanse one who has passed on of their earthly sins that they may find peace in the afterlife--this was done in different ways by different people, but one of the best known methods was ritualistically baking the sins of the dead into bread or cakes and consuming it. Yoshi-P has even said he thought of meol as a sweet bread. Quest text from the Unfulfilled Forager in Gate Town further backs up that meol is not meat-based:

(By the way, nothing was keeping this man from hunting a shit-ton of meat that was literally within walking distance.)

It suggests Vauthry could have been taught that by eating the sins of the world, a.k.a. Sin Eaters, a.k.a. meol (which in the Japanese version, was something he was apparently afraid of doing?) --he was saving someone’s soul. 

“And for thy peace I pawn my own soul. Amen.”

In reality, there would be a point Mr. Mayor would not know how to feed the Warden forced on his child. Humes don't have a natural method of feeding on "living aether", yet the Warden would not reach its full potency without it. Making meol could either involve an instinctive act on the Warden’s part, or it was taught--and that seems very much beyond his father’s area of expertise, OR Vauthry himself, so I’d almost wonder if the Ascians had a part in it.  But like mixing medicine in a favorite food, theoretically, the aether provided by meol would slowly build up. And as the Warden grew in power, it would need more, and more. It would explain that final “powerup” before Mt. Gulg.

Provided Sin Eaters have any living aether left. They never explained that bit. Sin Eaters have no bones, no blood, no meat, nothing but Light. We saw enough of them dissipate into the air, including in cutscenes. Even Tesleen, very recently turned, faded. There is nothing else to them but Light...and there should be nothing left but that “blank perfection”, the Eater would have ate the rest? So where is the “living aether” they require to survive?

Fresh-sliced sneater wing, empty as the plotholes of this arc.

I could buy him turning people into Eaters directly, but then what was the point of the bread?

That’s right folks, meol still doesn't make sense, surprise! Also: so many people in one city allegedly being "disappeared" over twenty years, from a stagnant population, to “feed” everyone every day--yet no panic, not so much as a hushed whisper about it? Eulmore is supposed to be the safest place anywhere -- no idea how it could gain that reputation with that theory. Square wrote Eulmore like it existed in a vacuum, no one knowing no one. The lack of depth is still jarring, three playthroughs later. Only one unreliable narrator of an NPC (Thoarich) even hinted this theory, to boot. 

Side note I thought was strange: you never see any of the normal food in Vauthry’s chamber actually eaten, it’s all untouched. I wonder if the Warden somehow eventually affected his ability to tolerate the food a Hume would normally eat.

That said, his “mind control” of the populace was laughably ineffective, so I wonder what even was the point of feeding them meol. Perhaps it was again the Lightwarden instinct to create more of its own kind. Nothing else seems to fit. “Oh no, this Eulmoran is staggering randomly around, muttering about Vauthry! How can we survive this onslaught?” Yyyyeah no, lol. Alphinaud confirmed the Eulmorans were acting of their own free will until that final showdown, so the mind control seemed to be a panic move--I wonder if it was even took conscious effort at that point, or just another instinctive SOS from the Warden. Given his father’s trouble with the smallfolk, I have to wonder if it was Former Mayor’s idea, if there was a real reason behind it. Not a reason that would make good sense, but nothing in this arc does make good sense, so.

The thing is, meol was an optional dish. No one was forced to eat it. So Vauthry must not have been relying on controlling or turning anyone.

But despite the fact meol defies their own game logic, Square really did seem to relish hinting at the dehumanizing, Austin Powers “haha fat guy eats people” trope anyway, and seriously. They could do better than that--I hoped they’d BE better than that. But here we are, the company that is supposed to go so hard against harassment takes an easy target and encourages a very specific negative response to it. This is the reason I believe Eulmore was such an inconsistent arc--they almost entirely depended on Vauthry’s appearance to carry the weak narrative, explaining very lttle of his actual motivations because that would ruin their weak-ass “gotcha” that he was the Lightwarden of Kholusia. Of course he’d be evil, just look at him! Right guys? Look! He’s fat! 

Just as they used nothing but thicc’qotes in the trailer to try establishing the evils in Eulmore. Thicc’qotes eating fresh fruit whilst having pleasant conversation is the root of it all in Square’s eye; not a noblewoman who tried to have her maidservant murdered, not the nobleman who pushed his bodyguard over the rails, or even that asshole on the balcony laughing about splitting someone’s head like a melon. No, fatness is the real wickedness. Square was full of shit for this one and it shows when looked at with even a little critical thought. I don’t know what I expected of someone who requested a human “Jabba The Hutt” to be the last-minute midboss, someone who looked at a heavier Lakshmi and said “that’s not cute”, or a jackass who told a cosplayer they needed to lose weight onstage at FanFest 2014.

Even more disappointing? All these questions here, all these inconsistencies? For the majority of the playerbase, “he’s fat” was good enough. The Ascians get a million thoughtful theories. One of their victims? The playerbase thinks he manifested from the womb as you see him in game. They don’t stop to think of what it implied, to be born corrupted and groomed as a tool not only for Ascians, but his own father. They avoid the fact the fandom darling directly violated a woman and child’s bodily autonomy even as they insist on Vauthry taking absolute 100% responsibility for everything he was made specifically to do. And there’s just one difference between him and literally every other villain in this game, aside from the fact he had no choice. Yeah. As much as some players hate to hear it, if Vauthry had swapped models with the fandom darling, we wouldn’t be hearing justifications for mass murder/dictatorships/skeevy noncon. We would definitely be hearing how Vauthry was used, though--and how tragic his story is.

Some players bring up Dulia-Chai as though she somehow counters all the bodyshaming bullshit elsewhere. It doesn’t. She was still in place along with all the other thicc’qotes as Square’s fucked-up shorthand for excess and indolence. I had to learn she kept books for the Stoneworks in optional dialogue. Maybe if she didn’t talk about cakes and such so much, but I mean, that’s what fat people do, right? 

So if you’re laughing at fat men, we fat women know you’re actually laughing at us, too. Git gud or stop embarrassing yourselves.

“Tyranny”, aka you keep using that word, I don’t think it means what you think it means:

Whatever the Ascians did to make sure Vauthry’s "Ascension" was a time-release event, the "madness and fury" clearly had taken him when we met him in Shadowbringers. Punishments for those having broken the laws of the city changed from exile into vicious death sentences. Suddenly the God talk, where not even Alphinaud had heard that. It really makes a case that Vauthry was slowly declining into madness the longer he was exposed to the Warden--in fact, Thancred sort of confirms it, during the trailer: “This town certainly has changed, but not at all for the better.” He was only on The First for five years. 

Vauthry likely had no introspective dialogues because much of who he actually had been was already gone, and the player is left with his remaining drive to do “good” and “justify your existence” wrapped around the instincts of a Lightwarden.

Yet a lot of things remain that really contradict the "bones of the poor" narrative the writers were trying to push about the city, and many times I felt a real disconnect between what our party was saying and what Eulmore was actually doing. A lot of it implies that, despite the Warden utterly subverting Vauthry as per the hard rules of Tempering, there was benevolence at work, once. The Minstreling Wanderer said that he could not say whether Vauthry was wicked in his youth, and I take this as a sign he was not. 

First off, let’s just get this out of the way: The Crystarium also expected you to work for the city in some form if you were expecting to stay there.

”Layabouts”: a people who were the main line of defense against the Sin Eaters for all The First for eighty years, until the futility of it, and all the loss, broke their spirits entirely. Just another sample of how Square intended Eulmore be shown as fat=lazy, despite their own lore--until Square was lazy themselves and didn’t finish the thicc’qote models so Eulmore would be exclusively fat bodies as shown in the trailer. 

The narrative often fudged with writer omnipotence regarding the protagonists, pressing to cast Eulmore in a negative light because they’d given up hope, even though loss is so important in excusing the Ascians’ actions. Our party had the WoL, whom they knew not only had a good chance of defeating Lightwardens, but G’raha seemed to know the WoL could contain them. Your average native inhabitant of the First would not be far off the mark feeling hopeless about the world, though, because they didn’t know about these extraordinary circumstances. Most of their oceans were lost in the Flood, and that in itself, realistically, is a death sentence. It’s all well and good G’raha was so perky and hopeful, and all well and good the game contrived a convenient deus ex machina to fix the issue (they never really addressed the issue anyway), but none of the locals could know any of this. I can see why Eulmore would think the Scions were full of shit, because for 80 years after the Flood, Eulmore tried to stop the Sin Eaters and could not. Honestly, I expected more sympathy for the Eulmorans, because they had been the front line for so long and lost so much. But lol fatties amirite?

Now, Square tried to dabble in many other Enlightened Social Commentaries with Eulmore, but immediately contradicted themselves so many times I was constantly asking myself why Alphinaud was being so goddamn extra dramatic. Gate Town/The Derelicts:

Not at Eulmore’s hand, Alphinaud honey, you can’t solo farms or communities. The people who remained behind were borked over by the ones who left. What are you even trying to say here, Square, help me out. Generosity--”largesse”-- is bad? Abandoning what you have, all others  be damned, for something you were never given a promise of receiving....good? Sympathetic? Seriously, what is your point here, Square? How does this equal Eulmore being malicious? How does this not make the bulk of Gate Town hopefuls a bunch of dipshits? Wright is in sight from Gate Town, but no one ever thought going there might be better?

If Square meant for Eulmore to seem a prison for the “poor”, they did a shitty job of that, considering: 1) A big point about Gate Town was that the people staying there left viable homes, farms, and communities for a chance at getting in, a chance that was never guaranteed by anyone, and they refused any alternatives Alphinaud offered them, plus

2) No one was keeping anyone from leaving if they wanted to. No guards, no masked vigilantes, no rando singing Hotel California in your ear.

So ruthless a prison, there were not only invisible guards holding you against your will, there was an Amarokeep waiting in the Derelicts to whisk you away for 70 gil so you can pretend to make a daring escape, straight to the freebie Amaro that will take you to The Crystarium. Tell your friends! Tell Alphinaud! He will literally buy anything this expac.

- “Young Kai-Shirr” getting into Eulmore was never a “matter of life or death”, and I can’t tell if that was Alphinaud being pretentious again or the writing was just that bad. Kai-Shirr was offered work at the Crystarium and he refused it, “it has to be Eulmore”. How is that on anyone but him? (Plus why does no one ever question Kai-Shirr’s complete lack of caring for why Alphinaud wanted in, if that was true? Was Kai-Shirr then not dooming Alph to “death” instead when he robbed him? That’s not very cash money of him.)  

This isn’t “life or death” either.

Neither is this.

Nnnno. 

Considering Stilltide reported they have fish for all, and Wright’s trouble was not enough people, this is not only not “life or death”, but fucking creepy. Hopefully this better illustrates my confusion of what we were being told vs. what we were being shown in Gate Town/The Derelicts.  d( ᐖ )

- The citizens In Gate Town/The Derelicts were not at the mercy of a "contest" to be let in. It was shown to be literally a help wanted board with jesters, and the “contest” was “do you have this certain skill someone is looking to hire”. I guess the Crystarium will hire a fishmonger to do the work of a chirurgeon or something? 

The jongleurs were otherwise just "rule of cool", I guess--although the significant look the Red gave us, followed soon after by Emet-Selch’s lurking outside the Offer, made me wonder if they were not acting as monitors on Vauthry for the Ascians. 

- There was at least one person in the Derelicts from the Crystarium, looking to make a quick gil on the extravagant “refuse” of the city, and several locals were doing the same. I guess those “layabouts” inside the city had their uses after all, Katliss.

- Meol was not the only food given to those outside the city. Produce and such that was not “pretty” enough for the fussy free citizenry was distributed to those camping the outskirts. 

I’d have expected a “tyrant” to let that produce rot. Catty in Stilltide confirmed there was enough fish for everyone living there, and Zia-Bostt above seems to back that up. Game in the field was also aplenty even in terms of map mechanics--this was not some form of forced famine to hold the smallfolk in a state of dependence. Eulmore was still paying the villages for produce. 

So much for the exploitation of big, bad Eulmore! 

Again, Alphinaud himself bemoaned how the people were there of their own choice, and how they refused any and all alternatives he presented them with. The people in Gate Town wanted to wait for Eulmore, they left their own homes and farms freely for Eulmore, screwing over their neighbors in the process--and that is not Vauthry’s fault, that is on them? 

Hurricane Florence left my husband and I homeless a while. You do not fucking pass up sure shelter and work and food to wait instead for a nebulous chance at Hollywood or Las Vegas--and if you do, that’s all your own tomfoolery, that’s not “injustice”, no BONES OF THE POOR required. It’s common sense, Square, goddamn lol 

The Free Citizenry:

- The rich would not be permitted into the city if they did not give up their wealth  for the benefit of all living there. This was a condition for the rich only. There is zero indication those funds were being put into Vauthry's pocket; it ran the city, and both free and bonded enjoyed the results (there seemed far more bonded residents in Eulmore than free, to boot.). There's a policy that would never fly in at least two allied citystates, lol.

It raises the question, if Wrenden and Former Mayor were so damn equitable, how were there even rich to begin with? There’s an old noble in Vauthry’s Eulmore who apparently does not know how to tie his shoes without a servant--a.k.a., the idle rich existed before Vauthry even came into power. The dialogue of Vauthry’s father also made it seem that these were systems in place long before he his son was even born -- except Vauthry’s system did not allow their hoarding of wealth, and distributed it instead to the benefit of everyone in the city. It was also a system that was so satisfactory, both free and bonded citizens became loudly dissatisfied after he was gone. 

- The rich were the only ones guaranteed “Ascension”, and if you want to call that a perk I’m going to assume it’s because the entire system relied on their dosh--technically, they already did their “work” for the city. (”Buying a stairway to Heaven”, as it were.) So much for those "bones of the poor", Alph. Statistically, if bones built Eulmore, it was the bones of the rich.

Until Gaia, Ascension was only mentioned twice, but again, no real context was given. (jfc Square, we shouldn't have to buy an overpriced lorebook for this.) First time was the Weeping Warbler chain. Going by the quest dialogue, it sounded very much like something offered as mercy to terminal illness or otherwise impending death, as the Warbler's creepy patron lamented how he almost wished he could hasten his own to join her (btw, the right answer to that poor girl's fear that she'd be a burden more than a treasure was "YOU ARE MORE THAN YOUR VOICE”,  asshole. >:| ). Players at the time were legit “oh that poor old man, she’s like his daughter :CCCCC” Ahahaha oh my sweet summer children

Either way, "Ascension” was definitely implied to be entirely voluntary. It was implied there were even rules and conditions to be granted it. And Vauthry did not seem to push anyone towards the idea, it was just there. (If it was for terminal illness, though, consider the following: Thoarich seemed confident the Warbler would live, but may lose her voice. If you have to be terminal to be Ascended, ironically Vauthry may have refused her patron's request.) The second mention was from Vauthry himself, for his “trial” when the Lightwarden awakened--so he certainly, tragically, believed what he claimed it was.  The Bonded Residents:

- Even at his worst, there is no indication that the free citizens were encouraged by Vauthry to abuse their workers; in fact, the Amiable Maiden and her Ardent Attendant implied heavily that appreciation and respect for one's bonded was the ideal that was pushed by Eulmore, that "love for one's fellow man". 

At no time were the bonded residents “slaves” (a new accusation from Twitter). They were “bonded” to the patrons who hired them by a work contract, and they sought those jobs willingly. No one kept them from leaving Gate Town, only kept them from getting in without a work arrangement--again, a prerequisite the Crystarium also had according to Katliss. The bonded residents were paid, and apparently paid well. 

As the WoL, we were also bonded to the Chais, and were able to come and go later. It was like the writers knew they needed to sit the fence so the free citizens would be redeemable enough to help with the immersion-breaking giant Talos plot later, and so never pushed Eulmore to the evils they talked about but never showed--leaving behind the most disconnected, self-sabotaging arc I’ve ever seen from this MMO.

An evil slaveowner at work.

Alphinaud rewarded for being an agreeable yet melodramatic young boy.

- The bonded we met who fled Eulmore had fled their patrons, not Vauthry himself--even the Warbler thought Vauthry a “great man”. No one in Eulmore feared him.

- Tristol’s “grave sin” to be patronless and penniless was contradicted by Fathana, whose patron had died some time ago, and yet she remained in the city without one to help new workers--because her patron had been so kind to her. The clerk whom you first speak to upon entering Eulmore even says that if you are “fired” or otherwise lose your patronage, you can try to find another patron to remain in the city or work as a general laborer like Fathana until, presumably, you do find another patron. Or maybe you don’t even need a patron, and you are allowed to stay as your own boss at that point, she certainly was.

Since the Chais helped us leave the city, I’m not at all sure why they didn’t do the same for Tristol, especially if Vauthry’s violence was a well-known thing. It’s almost like violence from Vauthry wasn’t expected, and they’d never think that would happen. I mean, some recent time ago, Vauthry only exiled thieves from Eulmore.

(Hell, Square may have even fudged Tristol’s punishment, implying Vauthry had ordered him tossed off the balustrade of The Offer. Vauthry’s balcony appears to be the one directly above The Path To Glory, right above the gates into Eulmore. There doesn’t seem to be ocean nearby at any realistic distance or angle from that balcony. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

- Laws that we saw in effect were for the benefit of patrons and bonded citizens alike. There was nothing to suggest those laws were unreasonable, either. The punishment became fuck no unreasonable (though as I pointed out earlier, the punishments seemed to ramp up in violence the longer the warden was part of him, from exile to a literal pound of flesh, much like Titania went from a benevolent ruler to Jumpscare Prime). But fraud being a crime is sort of expected anywhere, and creeps at the Beehive should not touch dancers unless dancers consent, lest they get the bouncer. ( another strangely thoughtful law for a “tyrant”. )

- The bonded residents inside seemed much happier with their lot than Alphinaud’s dramatic assessment, which was also confusing as hell. 

-  Entire families were allowed to enter if one member was hired. Alphinaud was able to drag us along with a minimum of fuss as his “assistant”. Vauthry’s definition of how one “gives” to Eulmore was not based solely on traditional work.

- Bonded residents were not afraid at all to speak of bending rules for perfect strangers when offering drinks to us, so Vauthry wasn't out prowling for blood 24/7 like an Inquisitor trying to fill their heretic quota. Not only was Dulia-Chai not afraid to go calm him down at the height of his rage, Chai-Nuzz didn't freak out at the idea she'd do it. Nuzz. Wasn’t nervous. Yeah, let that one sink in 9_6

The only time Vauthry acted seemed to be when an issue was brought forward directly to him. Otherwise, it seemed like standard Lightwarden behavior: stasis, until presented with a real and immediate threat to itself, which in Vauthry’s case was a threat to the order of his city, or the ones killing Lightwardens.

For allegedly being aggressive against Kholusia's neighbors, Vauthry seemed to have taken the Crystarium's refusal of his offer to lead them back in the day really well, as in, he did jack shit in retaliation and accepted it. In fact, he was so warlike, Emet-Selch was surprised Vauthry would move that army, even for a very clear threat against fulfilling the false destiny Emet-Selch forced on him. 

While on the subject of aggression, the people in Amity have dialogue indicating they feared Vauthry would send the army after them--which he obviously never did, in all 20 years of his reign.  

- “No one leaves” except hey whoa there hi, Lue-Reeq, who comes and goes as he pleases. Plus that bonded resident who came to Wright looking for ale. Plus us, also bonded residents, because Dulia-Chai once again had nothing to fear from Vauthry.

Also anyone who was exiled previously. For supposedly wanting to keep people inside Eulmore, Vauthry sure was terrible at doing it lmao

GCBTW: I'd really love to see Square and Alphinaud be similarly vocal and insistent with the actual horrors our own Allied city-states commit without the corruption of a Lightwarden in play. The selective outrage/pearl-clutching is really immersion-breaking.

Ishgard: “Highborn” genuinely exploiting the “lowborn” every other sidequest to this day. Genocide of the Au Ra. At least two FATEs, one job quest, one lorebook entry, and one dungeon indicate Ishgard has fucking disgusting levels of rape carried out by figures of authority. Rent is being charged for people from the Brume--the homeless, destitute people in the Brume--to live in the Firmament, but they can arrange payment plans! And this was all talked about while one of them was shivering in the cold nearby. What, can't the highborn be arsed to share what they have? Eulmore is the height of wickedness because they couldn't cram an island full of people into one tower, but Ishgard's our pal even though they can't manage to make space in their mansions for one small area of one city. My God, Vauthry had FOOD in his chamber, shame!--but that's okay, Aymeric, you rock that extravagant dinner spread in the dating sim cutscene. Maybe the Brume can fight over the Ishgardian Muffin crumbs.

(Yes, I know, Vauthry had more food than that in his chamber. He’s also approaching fifteen-plus feet tall. Proportionally, the food in his chamber would be the equivalent of you or me living on cocktail peanuts and thimbles of water. Once more, Square was so fixated on fatphobia they didn’t do the fucking math.)

Doma: “Hey yeah look guys I know child trafficking is bad but let’s just smile and nod at this guy who did it to Yotsuyu and give him a different post, okay? Okay. Remember to be polite. We will never speak of this again.”

“Let me laugh about your beliefs and call them bullshit while I angle you into a war that isn’t even yours, Xaela tribes.” Gridania: Lets people straight up die if the “elements” tell them it’s okay. Exiling a child for stealing a bag of flower seeds is normal and totally not at all fucked up. Open and accepted racism against the Duskwights with no sign of Kan-E-Senna saying fucking stop that shit.

Ul’dah: Human trafficking. Child trafficking. Human lab rats. Using prisoners for blood sports. The Syndicate living it up in finery, giving exactly nothing to people living in the streets. Notoriously corrupt Brass Blades. More implications of fucking disgusting levels of rape. Turning away the Doman refugees when they literally had nowhere else to go and nothing left. We smiled and nodded when Godbert said people mustn’t be given charity, they must work for their own good.

Limsa Lominsa: Fucks over the “beast tribes” at every opportunity, then complains they summon Primals.

But remember, folks, it was Vauthry’s Eulmore that was the real evil we had to desperately move against. Not the newer, capitalist Eulmore that didn’t feed two guys from Wright because they couldn’t afford it, shoosh those “bones of the poor” don’t count. The writers tried to retcon a lot in 5.1, it seemed--suddenly, it was implied people were forced to leave villages, conscripted, etc. Except the people were still there to tell us otherwise in 5.0, and there was still no sign of any Eulmoran forces keeping them in Gate Town. We went from Alphinaud demanding the free citizens take responsibility for what they’d done in Eulmore to posthumously blaming Vauthry’s “bad influence” for everything up to and including a noblewoman’s attempted murder of her maidservant, because the noblewoman’s husband was creeping on the girl. 

Which leads us to another of my biggest peeves--all the while, despite “the truth” being so important when it came to Emet-Selch, the sins of Vauthry’s father and the suffering his wife and child endured because of Emet-Selch’s direct hand are left unspoken. We smile and nod silently to Eulmorans and then offer them up Vauthry and his “bad influence” as an excuse for their own misdeeds. I’ve never felt less a “hero” in this game as I did then. Yet Emet-Selch, who committed this atrocity on a child, was called a HERO because fandom darling, while the child is vilified and thoroughly dehumanized.

It’s really telling how much blind condemnation the fanbase dealt to Vauthry for reasons that were completely inaccurate, while the fandom darling of this expansion was 100% the founder of not one, but two civilizations based on domination, the most recent being a nation whose canon creed is  "No lands must remain beyond our grasp. Go forth. Conquer. Rule.", a nation whose people have a habit of calling all the “lesser races” they conscript “savages”. Fandom Darling was also hype af for Black Rose and called it worthy of his bloodline! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

It’s really telling that the fanbase will randomly accuse Vauthry of being a sexual predator with Sin Eaters based on exactly zero evidence (but a lot of projection on their part), while the fandom darling 100% canonly used the actual Solus zos Galvus’ enthralled body to sire a child with Galvus’ unwitting wife, and going by the dialogue--

--he’s done that before. No wonder consent was no big deal when he made that offer to Former Mayor. But this was played for sympathy because fandom darling and what do you know, the fandom bought it.

Square “both sided” actual authoritarian characters--actual colonizers, actual mass murderers of entire worlds, actual skeevy-ass characters who don’t care about consent because “not really alive”--called it “heroic”, even (the latter was called “moral relativism”, and it’s genuinely unnerving how many players pushed that as absolution or relatable)--but throughout the course of the main expansion and two subsequent patches,Square went all-in that the fat guy who had his agency and sanity stolen from him in utero to be used as a tool of destruction was the real tyrant. We the player were encouraged to buddy up with E-S while we were never once given the option to wonder if something was terribly amiss with Vauthry, if he may need help. They didn’t even spare us a “jfc that poor man, the Eaters got to him” when he blindly twisted his neck 180 to neither see nor hear us. He was still “evil” because reasons, a.k.a., he was fat.

TL;DR, the playerbase: 

I remain unconvinced the Ancients were not clever enough to suspect summoning the “Will Of The Star” may have an effect on their own wills, as their wishes for Zodiark carried an unspoken need for the Elder Primal to be granted control to achieve its end. Emet-Selch stated that Tempering was to be “expected”, even “natural”, though his appearance towards the end of 5.3 seems to contradict Tempering: has there ever been another instance that a Tempered being was able to act directly against the best interests of the primal that holds them in thrall? Elidibus sure couldn’t. 

Disclaimer: I actually have no issue with liking the Ascians, be it shipping, writing, art, porn mods, whatever. But if you come into my yard with nothing but shit talk for Vauthry on reblogs of my art, yet have all the praise for the one who made him, you’re going to hear in my personal space about why you’re a hypocrite. Often. With receipts.

The End.

First off, it’s popular in the fandom to say the Lightwarden was Vauthry’s real body because it’s just so damn inconvenient to the dating sim mentality that the fat guy was the default. Thing is:

That is Innocence’s head and its wings inside Vauthry’s split-open back during the pre-phase two “transformation”. Between that and the second face that appeared to cave in most of Vauthry’s chest (on the heart side, interestingly enough), the face whose eyes opened and glowed upon the Warden’s “awakening”:

It doesn’t look at all like it was a “transformation”.  It looks like the Lightwarden emerged and absorbed what was left of its host’s physical form while still retaining Vauthry’s broken mind.  (Notice the nose, much longer than Vauthry’s actual nose, eye spacing, the bit of smile. That second face was the Warden.)

Before his death, Vauthry did not say "well dang, the Ascians promised I would be all-powerful so I could be evil! Curse them for cheating me!"

He said "Father told me...that I am hope. That I am righteousness. That I am...a god... That is why I was born...as man and sin eater both...I kept the people safe!"

Those lines make no sense if Vauthry interpreted Father’s manipulations as "haha I'm a spoiled evil brat I can do what I want". A spoiled evil brat wouldn't need to be convinced what they were doing was GOOD, would they? Why would that even have been a thing, wouldn't they just not care? He had the power to not give a shit. Instead, he would see his peoples’ “dreams fulfilled, their wishes granted.” EDIT - Canon as of 5.3 appears to support this analysis! \o/ 

Spoken at the end by G’raha Tia on the subject of enduring hope, and additionally supported by the Minstreling Wander, who told us in the Immaculate EX unlock he could not say if Vauthry was wicked in his youth. ”Vindicate his existence”. Vauthry was never in this for the evil selfish lulz. He believed he needed to prove the “half Sin Eater” heritage forced on him did not make him a monster, that it was good, that he was good, and he did it by doing everything he was gaslighted to believe was good by his father--until the Warden finally broke him entirely. To the people who debated so strongly he was just evil because reasons, or refused to hold other characters to the same standards of damnation they set for him because reasons, hope your shoe tastes good. Your reasons were always really clear, btw.

This remains the story of a child who needed a hero that never came, and players choose to discard it, like the free citizens snub produce, because Vauthry isn’t pretty enough for them. A fat character’s stolen life simply isn’t worth the effort of contemplation because the one who made him makes players horny on main.

What happened to this character, with just the little information the game gave us, was straight-up abuse. Yet too many in the fanbase thought no further than juvenile fat jokes (so cool) or unquestioning contempt for a character who was clearly in a state of mental breakdown (unless it was the fandom darling, he’s allowed, even if it destroys worlds) --while Square readily had their characters ace detective enough to detect his weight, but not his unnatural height, his pointed ears, his fogged over eyes, his bendy-straw neck, his second freaking face. Oh, and he can control Sin Eaters. Wait, you mean the Lightwarden was in him the whole time!? Seems legit gais, what an unexpected turn of events! 

ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

[m00nycore]

𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝘼𝙇𝙇 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙔 𝙎𝙏𝙐𝙋𝙄𝘿 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏 ;; 𝙩𝙬𝙤 .

𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 .

𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮 𝙭 𝙤𝙘 (𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨)

𝙩/𝙬 : 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙡𝙮 𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙩𝙤𝙭𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥, 𝙙𝙚𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙏𝘼𝙂𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 ;; @dreaming-about-fanfictions @aesthetic-el @lord-byron​ @drxcomvlfx​

Green apples and toast.

It’s what Draco had been sending to her room every day, according to Poppy. He had asked the elf- kindly, she said- to make sure she was eating and to find out what she wanted.

Everyday, Wren couldn’t help but give the same response. Draco had somehow chosen the food from the first day very well. The two weeks they spent at the manor before they went to Hogwarts was only endurable because of her carefully crafted routine.

Wren was an early riser. Six o’clock was her preferred wake-up time, and she began her day by sitting in a bath with the water so hot that it burned the entire time.

Poppy would bring her an apple soon after, as well as a pitcher of water and a cup. In the morning, her appetite was small. She would eat the apple in the tub, and when she was done, she’d exit the bath. Wren got dressed, and headed to the gardens by seven-thirty.

Wren stayed outside in the gardens, aimlessly wandering to kill times. She would return into the manor at noon, and she refused lunch from Poppy.

The best part of her day was the visit to the library, a room that was immaculate, but untouched for the most part. The room was huge, almost as large as her manor’s. The Malfoy family didn’t seem the type to read obsessively the way she did. She would take a few books out and return to her room.

By the time she had devoured each novel, Aegis nestled into her side, Poppy brought her dinner- toast and a green apple. As she ate, she asked Poppy to keep her company. The two would talk every night.

She would learn every detail of Poppy’s day, which comforted her. The Malfoy’s had a few house elves, and Poppy was becoming friendly with them. In turn, Poppy listened with wonder in her eyes as Wren described each book she had read to her.

At nine at night, she would lay in bed, waiting to be able to sleep. Many hours later, she was swept into a dreamless sleep.

The irony of her given name almost made her laugh- she was Persephone, trapped in the unforgiving Underworld. The green apple had been her pomegranate seed, and Draco was unwillingly her Hades.

Since the night in the gardens, the two hadn’t spoken, nor had Wren returned the ring to her finger. It would all change tomorrow, she knew, but she was strangely numb to it all. The monotony had gotten to her. 

Narcissa knocked on her door again that night, just as Wren was packing her trunk to return to school the following morning. As far as she knew, neither of them had left the house- save the time they ventured to Knockturn Alley. Poppy had told her about it.

“Good evening, Mrs. Malfoy,” she greeted.

Narcissa smiled at her, strained, standing by the door. She glanced at the ring that sat atop her pile of clothes.

“That was Lucius’ great-grandmother’s,” she commented, smiling softly. “My ring was passed down from his maternal grandmother, to his mother, to me. That ring was always meant to be yours.”

Wren studied the ring, a soft smile of her own growing on her face. “It’s beautiful. I suppose it’s fitting,” she decided, meeting Narcissa’s eyes. “Being Draco’s favorite color... it only makes sense that his bride-to-be sports it. He also likes silver, if I’m not mistaken, so the band is fitting as well.”

There was a pause.

“I know he was cruel to you, Persephone.”

She couldn’t help but wonder if she meant the time in the gardens, during their time at Hogwarts, or whilst they grew up together.

“We have a plan in the works,” Narcissa continued. “Draco can fill you in. He’s clever, he thought it up himself,” she hesitated. “Would you go talk to him, Persephone?”

Wren studied Narcissa, considering. “Yes,” she eventually answered.

Narcissa nodded and exited.

The walk to Draco’s room was rather confusing, as she had no clue where to find it. 

She passed a house elf cleaning the banisters, and knelt down.

“Hello,” she greeted. The elf looked at her warily. “I’m Persephone,” she introduced herself.

“Oh! Yes, our new mistress Persephone. Please forgive Dilly, ma’am!” the elf cowered, making her heart break. She had a feeling that Lucius Malfoy’s cruelty wouldn’t make an exception for house elves.

Wren smiled kindly. “Hush, now,” she soothed. “I don’t mind. You don’t even have to call me mistress. Dilly, you said?” the elf nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, Dilly... do you perhaps know my elf, Poppy?”

The elf nodded. “Yes ma’am!” he squeaked. “Poppy told Dilly all about Mistress Persephone’s kindness! Poppy loves Mistress Persephone very much!”

“That makes me happy to hear, thank you,” she told the elf. “If you don’t mind me asking, where is Draco’s room?”

Dilly perked up. “Dilly can show you, ma’am! Is Master Malfoy expecting you?”

“I’m not sure,” she murmured, rising to her feet. “Would you care to walk with me, Dilly?” she reached her hand out for the elf to take.

“Yes ma’am!” he exclaimed, accepting her hand. 

As they walked, Dilly explained that he had been working for the Malfoy’s for many years. He held an obvious respect for the family, but Wren could see that it was built upon fear, regardless of if Dilly knew that or not.

When they arrived at Draco’s room, she looked down at Dilly, releasing her hand from his.

“Thank you, Dilly,” she said, grateful. “I’ll see you soon, hopefully!”

Dilly’s eyes lit up. “It was Dilly’s pleasure, Mistress Persephone!”

As Dilly ran off to finish her cleaning, Draco’s door opened.

He looked just as bad as when she saw him last. He wore his usual black suit, and his hands were in his pockets. 

“I’ll never understand your fascination with house elves,” he stated, the usual, insufferable tone in his voice.

“Must you always speak like you’re about to spit at someone?” 

He sneered, just as she predicted.

“Anyway, I’m not fascinated by them. I just think they’re such lovely souls. Especially my Poppy,” she was smiling.

“Why are you here Bardick?” Draco’s arms were crossed across his chest.

Wren’s brow crinkled. “To speak to you. Tomorrow we’re breaking the news of our engagement, after all.”

“I suppose you’ll be breaking up with Zabini then?”

She crinkled her nose. “Blaise and I are hardly even worthy of the term friends. Don’t get your knickers in a twist just because I rejected you for the ball and ended up taking him instead.”

Draco was still scowling. “Well, come in then,” he snapped, opening his door.

His room was as much of a prison as her’s was. 

Wren was baffled at how, despite living in the room for eighteen years, there was hardly any proof of his residence. His belonging were present, of course, but there was no personal style... it looked almost like a guest room rather than the room of the family heir.

They stood, awkwardly, across from each other until Wren turned to an armchair and sunk in it. 

“Your plan?” she wasted no time getting to business- after all, she knew that neither of them would make a move to acknowledge or apologize for the night in the gardens. It wasn’t their way. 

Draco sighed, going to sit on the edge of his extravagant bed, and running a hand over his face. He was frightened inside. 

“There’s a vanishing cabinet,” he began. “One in Borgin and Burkes.”

Wren nodded, aware of the plan immediately. It was hard not to hear about Montague’s near-death experience with the one in Hogwarts.

“So you’re sneaking them in the school,” she stated, prompting him to nod. “Before or after you kill our Headmaster?”

He was quiet. She already knew the answer- before. He would be grasping at any chance to have someone else take Dumbledore’s life.

“Draco, I know you’re-.”

“You don’t know anything,” he hissed. “He chose me! It’s my time!”

Wren ignored him. “As much as I hate to admit it, I’m here to help you. I know it’s scary, I know you don’t want to- hell, I don’t even want to help, but I don’t want to die. I couldn’t imagine having to carry out the deed.”

He was quiet, staring at her with an unreadable expression.

“So, this is Draco Malfoy’s room, hm? You should open the curtains more... you don’t look like you’ve seen the sun in ages.”

Malfoy smirked. “You’re one to talk, Bardick,” he teased, taking in the girl’s pale, sickly appearance. She swam in the large sweater she wore. As corpse-like as she could appear, her beauty could not be mistaken.

“I’ve been in the gardens every day, Draco,” she countered. “I’ve been busy.”

Draco almost looked... sympathetic. “It’s quite pathetic,” he commented. “Seeing you force yourself walk around for six hours.”

“You watch me in the garden, how sweet. Already so attentive of your bride-to-be.”

He snorted, a ghost of a smile on his face. He looked down at the ring.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, suddenly. 

“No,” she admitted. “Poppy must be looking for me. It’s around this time that I have to stomach my toast and apple.”

Draco shook his head, angry again. “You’re ridiculous,” he spat. “Think starving yourself would get you out of the mission, do you?”

“I’m not hungry.”

He stood suddenly, and walked forward to grab her wrist.

“Get off,” she ordered, a murderous edge to her voice. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“Having dinner with my fiancée,” he replied, through gritted teeth.

[lovelivingmydreams]

A story by heroes and villains

Janus Anker: identity

To be a teenager is to learn more about yourself. But does it have to be all at once?

Please leave a comment on this one? I usually don't ask but I would really like feedback on this one.

Masterpost

Summer before freshmen year, Janus was a wreck.

He always kind of hated the way he looked. But lately there were days where he didn’t even like to look at the normal half of his body. When nothing in his closet felt comfortable. The first day of summer, he went over to the neighbor’s house to hang out with Virgil. He was having a bad day and needed his friend. “Janus. Good to see you my boy,” Virgil’s dad greeted as he opened the door. Janus forced a smile. “Hi uncle Lo. Is Virgil up yet?” he asked. “He’s in his room. You know the way,” uncle Logan told him kindly. Janus nodded and rushed up the stairs. He opened the door to Virgil’s bedroom and froze. Virgil was standing in front of his mirror a pen in his hand and his hoodie and t-shirt on the bed. He looked up and smiled at him. Why was his hair purple? And since when did he do his eyeshadow so immaculate? Did he paint his nails purple too? Was that lipstick? And why was there an intricate pattern running up his arm, over his shoulder and fading out at his chest? “What do you think? Looks pretty sick right?” he asked as he showed off his work. Janus wasn’t sure which part of Virgil’s drastically changed appearance he meant. But it looked very… very… God he could not be having a gay panic right now. Not with Virgil. He’d never had a crush before! He never cared for any of the girls in class. Not in the way Virgil sometimes expressed interest in them. Like Anna from their class. Virgil had had a small crush on her at the start of last year. Out of curiosity Janus had asked what it was like. To see if maybe he was crushing on someone without realizing it. Sadly Virgil’s explanation hadn’t brought an epiphany. Which made this even more confusing. If he was simply gay and crushing on Virgil this whole time, then he should have realized it then right? He’d known him all his life! He didn’t feel like this last week though. He forced himself to drop that train of thought. He wasn’t here for any of this. “Yeah. Looks good. Though I doubt uncle Lo will let you actually get a tattoo. Ever,” he said, trying to play it cool. Virgil chuckled and nodded as he tossed the pen on his desk and put on his shirt and hoodie. The latter was new. Black with purple patches. It looked hand made. In a good way. Janus couldn’t focus on it though. He was still reeling from the unexpected rush of feelings that had just been dumped on him.

Maybe it was just because Virgil had looked so different? Some sort of shock? That must be it. Right? Anyway it was mostly over now and he was back to feeling wrong in his own skin. “I know, but I wanted to try it out anyway. I’ll wash it off later. After I take a picture.” Virgil then studied Janus’ face. “One of those days?” he guessed. Janus nodded. He’d never been able to express to Virgil how it felt exactly. But his friend managed to make him feel better anyway. He’d help him relax by messing around with his hair or helping him pick something nice to wear. Or some general self-care stuff. “I’ve got just the thing. Sit down I’ll be right back.” Janus proceeded to throw himself face first on Virgil’s bed, doing his best not to think back to the fake tattoo he had drawn. Or not the part where it made him feel things anyway. Virgil was good at art. Good enough to make others envious, or make people try and get something from him. Janus felt his stomach twist in knots at the mere thought of it. Virgil was too kind to deny anyone if they’d ask. It would be very hard to keep him safe in high school though, when they weren’t guaranteed to be together for every class. Janus had been thinking a lot about ways he could protect them from bullies and fake friends. The best he could come up with was seem scarier and stick together. The coward was going to scare off the bullies. Janus was very aware of how ridiculous that sounded. He was going to try though. And then there was still the matter of Roman Castile. That pompous brat never stopped trying to get Virgil to trust him and steal him away. Janus still couldn’t figure out why he went through so much effort. Was it because he didn’t get told ‘no’ often? Was Virgil a challenge? Roman couldn’t possibly really know or appreciate the kind of person Virgil was. So what was the plan? “Get up. I can’t work my magic if you hide away like that,” Virgil instructed as he entered the room once again dropping something on the bed. Janus sighed and sat up. “Give me your hand. We’re doing make overs,” Virgil instructed as he got on the bed with him. Janus was about to protest, but Virgil had that look. There was no arguing. “Fine,” he sighed. Virgil took his hand and started doing his nails with a golden polish. “I bought this one for detailing,” he explained. Janus looked at Virgil’s hand and saw there were little stars in the purple polish. He couldn’t help a smile. It looked pretty. Virgil had started using make up the last few months. Just some dark smudges under his eyes and black polish on his nails to look extra edgy. Maybe the new look held the same intention? A high school upgrade? With a little detail to hint at a softer nature for those who looked close. “You’re in the mood for makeovers today,” he observed. Virgil chuckled. “I suppose,” he nodded as he blew over Janus’ nails, finishing of his right hand. “Next,” he instructed. Janus gave him his left hand, holding his right up so nothing could mess up the still wet paint. “What’s with all the shades of purple anyway?” he asked. “Just felt right,” Virgil muttered casually as he finished off Janus’ other hand. “There,” he stated satisfied as he let go. Janus shook both hands for a bit trying to get them dry. “We’ll find the look that feels right for you too. Just you wait,” Virgil assured him as he dug through the bag Janus had heard him put down earlier. “What are you planning?” he asked. “Relax, I’m not going to make you go home with a face full of make-up. We’re just trying something different okay?” Virgil assured him. Janus let out a sigh and nodded. He trusted him. “I wouldn’t go for a dark lipstick for you. It looks cool but it’s… Not something even I would want for an everyday look. And the goal is making you feel good not shock you,” he joked. Janus’ eyes fell to Virgil’s lips as he mentioned lipstick. The dark color made every movement stand out even more. They looked very kissable. And that brought Janus mind to a screeching halt. The image of kissing his best friend made him feel all sorts of ways. But not quite the way Virgil once described. He felt nervous and excited, and flustered. But not… Not love. He didn’t think of sweet nothings and dates and holding hands. Or he did, because part of him wanted to run those down to figure out if this was a crush. But none of that fit how he felt about Virgil. The thought of it was just weird to him. Virgil was movie nights and stupid jokes and teasing. But also kissing. Apparently. Suddenly he was yanked out of his thoughts by Virgil carefully taking hold of his face. For a second he thought Virgil’s mind had gone to the same place his had. But when his eyes shot up to V’s they were just amused. “Relax. And stop biting your lip. I haven’t even done anything and you’re already trying to ruin my masterpiece.” “Sorry,” Janus muttered. Relieved that Virgil had no clue what just happened. What was wrong with him? “It’s fine,” Virgil assured him as he started applying whatever color he’d decided on to Janus’ lips. It did not help with his crisis. And it was just a stellar crisis to have when the object of your attraction was literally holding your face and had his lips a breath away from yours. “There. Now, I’m going to need you to trust me for a sec here,” Virgil warned ominously. Clearly having fun. Janus couldn’t help a chuckle. Now that Virgil wasn’t so close anymore the attraction subsided to a not all consuming level and he could kind of enjoy the fact that Virgil was trying to make him feel like a movie star or whatever he was going for here. “Do I have a choice in the matter?” he asked dryly. Virgil chuckled. Janus thought back to how Virgil had said that Anna’s laugh made his heart skip, back when he liked her. But while the sound made Janus feel comfortable and happy, his heart did nothing special. He was just happy and relaxed because the sound was familiar and safe. “You have a point,” Virgil agreed. “Close your eyes for me.” Janus did as he was told. Virgil’s hand was on his face once more and he could feel his breath drift over him. The fact that he couldn’t see a thing as a brush drifted over his eyelids only intensified the new feelings. “Did you know the principle of our high school is childhood friends with uncle Thomas?” ‘Uncle’ Thomas was an old school friend of Uncle Logan. Janus had met him a few times over the years. He was a nice guy. If a bit high energy. “Really?” he asked a little surprised. “Yeah. Joan Stokes. They use they/them pronouns. According to uncle Thomas.” Janus couldn’t help the confused frown. “What do you mean?” he asked. “They’re non binary. They don’t identify as a man or a woman. Like they were born in a male body, but their gender is not male or female.” “People can do that?” Janus asked. “Just decide they aren’t what they are?” “That’s not it. Uncle Thomas says that Mx. Stokes… Mx. Is the neutral version of Mr. or Mrs. by the way… Anyway he said that they are their authentic selves. They were always non binary. They just didn’t know it until they were in their teens or something. I looked it up. There are people who are born in a male body but discover they are female later in life. Like. It’s proven that their brains even work more like that of a female. And the other way around can happen too. So why wouldn’t there be people who are in between?” Janus tried to wrap his head around it. Being a man but not being a man… or a woman. “So is… are they…? Did I say that right?” It felt kind of weird. He’d never heard of this until now. “That was exactly right.” Janus could swear he heard some pride in Virgil’s voice. “Okay, so are they both or neither?” he asked. Virgil’s hand stilled. “You know… I didn’t ask. Hm… I suppose… Maybe it depends on your perspective?” he mused as he continued working. “Look up for a bit please,” Virgil muttered. Janus opened his eyes and felt Virgil start applying some eye liner. “I don’t have mascara, so I’m almost done,” he told him. Janus felt relieved. He was enjoying this, truly. And he was curious to find out how he looked. But he also needed some distance between himself and Virgil. And maybe some time to try to look up what all of these feelings were about. Because he wanted to know what this thing was that threatened his friendship with Virgil. Was this a crush? If it was, then why didn’t he feel any of the stuff he was supposed to feel. Except for a very dumb and dangerous wish to kiss his best friend. “And done! Turn around I’m going to fix your hair a bit.” Janus sighed and turned to face the window. He’d let his hair grow the past few years. It came past his shoulders now and he liked the way it looked. He usually wore it up to the side. But Virgil liked to play around with it sometimes. And Janus secretly liked it when he did. “Okay so I’m not going too wild here. I’m keeping it simple,” Virgil assured him as he started brushing Janus’ hair. Janus hummed in acknowledgement, already lost in the feeling of the brush. This was relaxing. And over much too soon. “Done!” Virgil announced as he hopped off the bed. Suddenly Janus was dragged in front of the mirror. “Well, you look hot, if I do say so myself.” Janus was so shocked that he barely registered the complement. He looked… The person in the mirror was… That was him… If he forgot about his clothes for a minute and just looked at his face. The feeling of wrongness was gone. In it’s place was a strange sort of euphoria. “Is this a good speechless or a bad speechless?” Virgil wondered. Janus was pulled away from marveling at how Virgil had managed to go for a natural look in spite of his birthmarks making it harder to pick a color that looked good on both sides. He wanted to hug him. Thank him for making him look beautiful. He'd never appreciated the shape of his eyes until Virgil made them stand out. His lips looked elegant and full. And now it was down, Jan's hair framed his face so nicely. Virgil was amazing. But when he looked at him, the euphoria subsided. Slowly replaced by dread. He looked like a girl. He realized. If he switched out his clothes a little, he could easily be mistaken for a girl… and he liked looking like this. This was too much. Did Virgil know that this would happen? Was that the point of bringing up pronouns? Was this a test? He couldn’t let him know. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t even know what there was to know. He needed time. “You are getting way to good at this. I almost didn't realize it was me,” he said while he was trying to find an excuse to get the make-up of and go home. Virgil smiled. “I'll take that as a complement. It looks good on you. Thanks for letting me try it out,” he offered as he went back to his bag. “I’ve got some sponges to clean up. Dad wouldn't care, but I get it if you don't feel like explaining that we're just messing around.” Janus relaxed a little at that. Virgil didn’t know. Good. He accepted the sponge and with a heavy heart went to the bathroom to clean up. He left his hair down though, finding a little comfort in that. He also left his nails as they were. When he got back Virgil was sitting cross legged on the bed sketching. He looked up and smiled. Janus smiled back and let himself drop in his usual spot. He probably should go. But if he hurried home now, it would be even more suspicious. And as long as they didn’t get too close again, he could ignore at least half of his crisis. “Hey, I’m probably not going to use the lipstick or most of the eyeshadow anymore. You think your mom can use it?” Virgil wondered absentmindedly after a few minutes of comfortable silence. Janus shrugged. “I'll ask her. You sure? Isn't make-up very expensive?” “It’s all either sale or stuff Uncle Thomas gave to me. One of his friends is a make-up artist who gets stuff like that all the time for free. and I wanted to experiment,” Virgil explained casually. “But like I said I’m not a lipstick kind of emo and other than black, purple and maybe blue I don't think I’ll use any of the eyeshadow.” Janus nodded. “Sure.” He didn’t mention that he might make his own selection first. To test out if it was just novelty that made him feel good, or if he was really… a she. Virgil put the sketchbook aside and got out of bed digging through the bag. He put a bunch of stuff on his desk before coming back and handing the bag over. “I’ll need the bag back though. Have her select what she likes and do with the rest whatever you want.” Janus nodded as he accepted the bag. They listened to music for a while, Virgil sketching absentmindedly. “Is being with a man who’s actually a woman gay?” Janus wondered out loud all of a sudden. Virgil looked up. “Does it matter?” he asked. “I mean… A little?” Janus didn’t know how to explain where the question came from. He knew. But he couldn’t say without giving himself away… herself? No. He was not ready to try out the pronoun. Not even in his mind. “Well… I don’t know… Do you mean someone who’s born male but identifies as female?” Janus nodded. “And we’re talking about us as guys right?” Janus nodded again. “Then. If they identify as female, it’s not gay I suppose. They’re a woman. At least that’s what I got from what I looked up. I didn’t do a whole indebt study.” Janus hummed absentmindedly. “I don’t know if I could make out with someone who’s like that,” he admitted. He didn’t mean to sound insensitive. He might be ‘someone like that’ himself. It just felt all so complicated and confusing right now. He didn’t know what to think. He wouldn’t know for sure until he was put in that position. He thought back to the past few years and his failed attempts at trying to feel interested in girls the way Virgil was. He thought he was just picky. That he needed to be really into someone to even consider putting his mouth on theirs. And the argument could be made that this was true for Virgil too. But he only liked him as a friend. Not as someone he wanted to start a family with. Though he could imagine them jokingly making a pact to settle with each other if they were still single when they turned 30 or something like that. Could people just want to kiss someone without being in love? They did that right? One night stands and all that stuff happened all the time. If they could not be a guy or a girl, or be the opposite of what they were born as. Or seemed to be born as at first glance. His head was spinning. He had too much to think about. “Well, I don’t think I’d care. If I like them, and they’re cute. Then I’d be down I think…” Once again Janus hummed vaguely. It was a bit of a relief. One less thing to worry about for him. They sat in silence after that, listening to music. Virgil sketching, Janus trying to compile a plan. When Virgil was called in for lunch Janus left for his house. He had made a decision. He had lunch with his dad, his mom was at work and his dad had to go present a project. Which meant that by some miracle, Janus would have the house to himself. A rare occurrence. Normally he’d invite Virgil over. But this time, he needed some time for himself. He took the make-up bag up and then dug through his mother’s closet. He took out a skirt and a shirt that sat loose so he wouldn’t ruin them. He wasn’t going to take risks with her shoes. He’d have to make due. Once in his room he searched the bag for the right colors. They’d been shades of yellow and brown, he recalled. He saw that Virgil had kept the eyeliner, which made sense. Virgil wore it almost daily. It was fine. This was just an experiment anyway. He wasn’t as good as Virgil. He figured out that he had used slightly different shades, or blended or something on either eye to make up for the different skin tones. He didn’t get it exactly right but close enough. He’d borrowed his mother’s mascara and prayed he was putting it on right. He put on a shade of lipstick that looked close enough to the one Virgil used, wishing he’d paid more attention to what he said rather than panic about how much he wanted to kiss him in that moment. In any case he was done with his make-up. It wasn’t until he was about to put on his mother’s shirt that he realized he probably should have started with the clothes and ended with the hair and make-up. Live and learn. Very carefully, he put on the shirt and then the skirt. He closed his eyes as he stepped in front of the full length mirror glued to his closet door. He took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s just… try,” he whispered to himself. He opened his eyes… She looked great. Virgil had done a better job, but still. The outfit was… It helped. Janus felt a giddy laugh escape. She played with her hair and held out her hand as if she was greeting someone. “Hi,” she said, making her voice higher. “I’m… Janice. Nice to meet you.” Janice. Familiar but more fitting. Her heart was racing, her stomach in knots. Now this was closer to what Virgil described as falling in love. She was just so happy to meet herself. The pronoun felt much less scary in the privacy of her own room. She was going to have to do more research. Why was she only starting to feel this way now? What was that thing with Virgil earlier? Why did she only feel bad about her body on some days and others she was completely fine with being Janus. Was that normal? But for this moment she let herself be happy. Everything else could wait just a bit longer. The rest of summer, Janus did every chore they could. Their parents and uncle Lo had implemented a system that allowed Virgil and Janus to raise their allowance if they did chores. It was meant to teach them that a good work ethic got rewarded or something along those lines, Janus was sure. But all they cared about was that they’d be able to buy themself some make up and an outfit to wear when they needed it. They were still a mess. The good news was, they now knew why. They were gay. That much was clear. Or well they were exclusively into men. But after talking in some online chat groups, they’d figured out that they weren’t a trans woman, as they’d initially thought. They were, in fact, gender fluid. Some days, he was just Janus. Other days she was more comfortable as Janice. They were okay with they/them on any given day. That is, they’d figured that out in their head. But they weren’t out to anyone yet. They were terrified of telling any adult in their life. Even if they were fairly sure that Uncle Lo, at the very least, was fine with the whole gender thing. But still. They wanted to tell Virgil so badly. But… There was one more thing they’d figured out  that they weren’t ready to share. They were aromantic. Or at least on that spectrum. So… They did and didn’t have a crush on Virgil. There was definitely, attraction they felt for the boy now sitting next to them in the car, singing loudly with them to the songs of one of their favorite bands as they were headed off for a weekend in New York for a P!ATD concert. They were having fun. It was a Janus day, so they felt okay when Uncle Lo and Virgil used male pronouns and stuff like that. Virgil grinned at him. “You better be prepared, I’m going to make you fit in with the crowd tomorrow,” he promised. Janus rolled their eyes and laughed. Setting in the next song with him. About an hour later they got to their hotel. “We have two adjacent rooms. I trust you boys can be responsible enough to be left to your own devices after dinner?” Uncle Lo asked sternly. Virgil and Janus exchanged a glance. “You can trust that we won’t do anything that could make you decide to go back home tomorrow. Making us miss the concert.” Janus assured his honorary uncle, who chuckled. “Well, I suppose that is very sound reasoning. I’ll let you two unpack. We’ll have dinner in the hotel restaurant in an hour,” he reminded them. “Okay, dad,” Virgil grinned as he opened the door to their room and they brought in their luggage. Virgil dropped his as soon as he closed the door. He took a running start and flopped on the bed. Or beds. It was a two bed room, but the beds were pushed together. “This bed is awesome! You have to try this Jan!” Virgil’s tendency to shorten Janus’ name was actually a blessing on their feminine days. Janus smirked and dropped his bags too and dove onto the bed next to Virgil. Oh, they were soft and comfortable. “It’s going to be a pain pushing them apart,” they muttered. “Eh, worries for later,” Virgil said dismissively as he folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m glad we get to do this. It feels like forever since we’ve just hung out you know?” Janus felt a little bad. They’d been very tense lately, which had put a damper on every time they’d visited Virgil or invited him over. They hoped things would get better soon. Once they got over their attraction, they could tell him everything. And then they could get back to normal. They just… Most of the time they were fine. But there were moments when Janus had a gay panic around Virgil and his instinctive reaction was to push away. Which obviously confused Virgil. And rightfully so. Rationally they knew that if they explained themselves, Virgil would understand he didn’t do anything wrong here and everything would be fine again. But they were afraid he’d be weirded out by it. He might be okay with their pronouns bouncing around the way they did. He might be okay with him being attracted to guys. And maybe even with him being aromatic… But him being attracted to him might be too much. “Yeah… Sorry. I’m just…” Janus tried to figure out how to explain some of what he’s going through. Virgil was his best friend. He should tell him. “Hey, I get it. High School has me pretty stressed out too. But even if we don’t have all classes together, there’s lunch, and we’ll see each other outside of school hours to. I mean, we live next to each other. There’s no getting rid of me.” He turned his head and smirked at Janus at the last part. Janus smiled a little. Feeling a little better knowing that Virgil had no intentions of leaving him behind. He never had turned away from him just because some other kids told him he could hang out with them. People had even stopped trying to separate them. With one annoying exception. But he wasn’t going to give that guy the satisfaction of taking up space in their summer. They stared at the ceiling for a while, just talking no sign of any awkwardness. They made it through a fun dinner and when they got back to the room they played a game of truth or dare. It was harmless stuff. Just acting silly and nothing too challenging. Until… “Janus, truth or dare?” Virgil chuckled as he sat down after dancing to ‘barbie girl’. “Dare,” Janus replied carelessly. “Okay… I dare you to…” Virgil bit his lip and played with his sleeve as he thought about a good challenge. Janus knew that these were nervous habits of his but they couldn’t dwell on it very much as suddenly Virgil smirked and leaned in. “I dare you to kiss me.” It was a joke. Very clearly he only meant to take Janus by surprise and tease them about their reaction. But Janus was tempted. He could do it. Kiss him like he’d wanted to and Virgil couldn’t be mad because he’d literally told him to do it. It was the only rule they had for this game. Don’t dare anyone to do something if you are not prepared for them to actually follow through. Because they could be competitive enough to do very dumb stuff just to prove a point. So… If he kissed him now, he could maybe finally get the thought out of their head. And try to gage Virgil’s reaction to see if he was ready for them to come out. They’d hesitated too long though. Virgil was falling back and chuckling. “Relax I was just joking. Besides I never specified where you had to kiss me or anything. No need to stress out about it. Though…” Virgil looked up at him with a thoughtful expression. “You’re pretty cute. I wouldn’t hate kissing you I suppose,” he smirked, making heat flood Janus’ body. He wouldn’t? “You know, if I had to,” he added as he stuck out his tongue. Janus felt his embarrassment turn into annoyance. Virgil had gotten into the habit of complementing him like that. Wrapped up in casual teasing. He couldn’t know that it got Janus’ hopes up and Janus knew that getting upset at him would only hurt them both. But he often found himself powerless to stop it. He tossed Virgil a pillow. “You’re impossible,” he huffed. Hoping Virgil wouldn’t spot the frustration in his tone. Which of course he did. “J?” he asked gently as he got up. Laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. Janus just curled in on himself, too embarrassed to face him. “Hey, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean anything with it okay?” Virgil assured him. “It’s just… I know you are kind of hung up on your skin sometimes… And you know I am terrible at expressing myself… All I wanted to do was like… Let you know I think you look cool and stuff. I know that it probably means nothing coming from me…” God, they were a terrible person. Virgil was trying his best to help them, to lighten the mood that plagued them even though they never let him in on what they were thinking. “You’re wrong,” they muttered into their knees. “It means a lot. It really does… I’m just being an ass hat,” they admitted. Virgil chuckled, their reply enough to let him relax it seemed. “Yeah, but I love ya anyway,” he assured them. There was a pause. “It’s getting late we should split the beds and get some sleep. Big day tomorrow,” Virgil noted. Janus uncurled themselves and nodded. They got up and each pulled one of the beds to the side. They dug through their suitcases for their PJs and Janus worried about whether it would be weird to go to the bathroom to get changed. In the past they just got dressed in front of one another when they stayed over. But that was all before… Before Janus could even finish their thoughts Virgil was heading to the bathroom. They relaxed, not even stopping to wonder why Virgil was suddenly shy about getting dressed in the same room as them. They just got dressed and in bed. They looked up when Virgil got back in the room. “Night J,” he bid as he turned off the lights. “Night V,” Janus replied. It took them a while to get to sleep. Try as they might they couldn’t keep themselves from imagining what it could’ve been like if they hadn’t hesitated. Those thoughts quickly turned to despair though. Virgil had never once expressed attraction to one of their male classmates. Not to mention that despite his whole broody aesthetic, their friend definitely wanted a romantic relationship. Their dreams were plagued with the fear of being found out and rejected. When they woke up Virgil was grinning down at them. Dressed and ready for the day. “Get up sleepy head. Time to get dressed. Breakfast is in one hour,” he informed them as he tossed them color shampoo. Right. They were going to be turned into a real emo kid for the concert today. Janus groaned and got up. Since when was Virgil a morning person? He was usually the last to fully wake up. He must be really looking forward to today. When they got into the bathroom they finally woke up enough to realize that not sleeping well wasn’t the only thing that had them feeling like crap. It was a Janice day. They let out a sigh and were grateful that they packed something they were comfortable in no matter how they felt for the concert. After their shower, they wrapped their hair up in a towel and pulled on the skinny jeans and the baggy band shirt Virgil gave them when he told them they were going to the concert. Apparently it being a few sizes to large added to the look. To Janice, it kind of felt as close as they dared to get to wearing a dress in public. “J? You done yet? Come on! I want to make you pretty!” Virgil’s teasing voice came through the door. Janice wished they could let their friend know how much they appreciated his make overs. “Yeah, I’m ready,” they replied, trying to sound slightly reluctant. Virgil got in with a grin, dragging a chair from the room along with him. He sat Janice down and dashed out of the room to get his make-up bag. When he returned his grin had not faded even a little. He immediately got to work. “You want to wear your hair down or up today?” he asked as he took out a hairdryer and started drying their hair for them. “Down,” Janice replied. Always down on Janice days. Virgil nodded. “Okay. I’m going to pull it out of the way for a bit though,” he informed them as he turned off the hairdryer and tied their hair together on the top of their head. “Close your eyes. It’s going to be a surprise,” he told them. Janice took a deep breath and relaxed as they closed their eyes. They felt Virgil apply something to their face with a sponge. Then a soft brush applied something powdery. Then he made quick work of their eyes and lips. “Okay. It should be warmed up now,” they heard Virgil murmur as he let down their hair again. Before they could ask they felt Virgil start to brush their hair. Pulling up locks and holding something warm against their scalp, moving upwards slowly. Wait was he… Straightening their hair? “Okay…” Virgil mused as he readjusted their shirt. “You can look.” Janice could hear the pride in Virgil’s voice. Clearly he was satisfied with the result. They opened their eyes and felt their mouth drop in awe. “Tragically beautiful I’d say,” Virgil smirked. Their birthmarks… They were gone. Or hidden at least. “What do you think?” Virgil pressed, sounding a little nervous. “It looks great,” they agreed. The waves were out of their hair and the black color actually looked pretty good. Their eyes and lips were accented with dark make-up. They looked good. A little sad but… Also cute? Virgil had rearranged their shirt. Janice had tried to center it, but Virgil had made it so that one of their shoulders was bare. They had never felt this good about how they looked on a Janice day while there were others around. “Awesome. Give me a minute to fix myself and then we’ll head to breakfast,” Virgil told them, clearly relieved that they liked their look. Uncle Lo was okay with Janice’s make over as soon as Virgil assured him that the color wouldn’t stick. And even that was probably only because he didn’t want Janice’s parents to get upset about it. They spent the day sightseeing. Janice got addressed as ‘miss’ at a few stores and while he and Virgil chuckled about it, in secret Janice was very happy with those instances. The concert itself was amazing. For a little bit they could pretend that they didn’t have massive secrets and that things would be okay.

everything to lose

@moonlightshow00​ @naturallyunstablegamer​ @alias290​ @meowthefluffy​ @frida0043​ @angelic-cali​ @selenechris​ @theblackveilinreverse​ @cirishere​ @hestianerd1​

[risingsouls]

Recruited: Chapter 1

[Yeah it’s for real happening because I’m weak. So here it is. I’m basically going to write out my new recruited verse because I have lost control of my life.

Shoutout to @kiealer for a mention of her OC’s healer race and the HC we have that Vegeta and co demolished most of them. :3]

Nabooru

Traveling beyond the bounds of her desert home had always been limited. Within the desert, never ending sandstorm made venturing too far from known landmarks treacherous for fear of never returning or serving as a meal for the beasts lurking beneath the sands or in caverns. Beyond the eastern border lay greater Hyrule. Lush, green, thriving. 

To Nabooru, it always felt like she was stepping into an entirely different world and not simply because of the stark contrast of weather and scenery. In her younger years, the culture shock hit her harder than more recent years. Women didn't fight and served their husband's needs and desires. It was rare that they served in government, and it was almost taboo for them to talk about it. To have an opinion of matters deemed "too dirty" for the so-called fairer sex. Most resided in the home and only the men provided. They dressed modestly, and did not speak out of turn. None of which would have bothered Nabooru had the denizens not tried to hold Gerudo women to to same standards while traipsing through Castle Town or outside of the desert. The mostly matriarchal Gerudo, where women ruled and fought and drank and cursed. Where their sexuality was celebrated and not demonized (though many Hylian men and women alike had celebrated right along with them for at least one night of their lives until the sun rose and those same Gerudo became whores and heathens once more). Who cooked and cleaned and raised children. Gerudo women did everything Hylian women did and then some. 

If the lesson didn't stick with Nabooru the few times she ventured out with her best friend, Aveil, against her will, it certainly did when she joined Ganondorf at court. When she spoke among the other delegates of Hyrule's court, it wasn't uncommon for her to face chortling, eye rolling, or grimacing. Ganondorf could then repeat the same point moments later, word for word, and be met with at least some modicum of agreement or a proper debate.

And that only touched on the prejudice spurred by anger and fear Hyrule harbored toward her people. The Civil War may have ended in a peaceful treaty, one promising unity and safety, a new beginning. But none forgot how avidly and proudly the Gerudo fought for their sovereignty until their second to last breath. The skills and power of the demons from the desert.

None of that mattered for Nabooru any more. Hyrule was far behind, somewhere in the vast, new realm of space that she could never possibly fathom before she boarded a ship primed for traveling such an expansive place beyond the world and reality she understood. She could only guess what other planets might offer her in terms of terrain or people. What her new life as a soldier to a galactic emperor entailed. But beneath the inorganic lighting and in the midst of technological advances even the brightest on her home planet could not begin to dream up, she hadn't found much opportunity to ask while she struggled to process her surroundings. Stars and debris whizzing by windows as they passed them. The words her new commanders spoke amongst themselves. 

“Remind me your name?”

It took Nabooru several seconds to note the silence that had befallen her company, curiosity and shock holding her gaze transfixed to the door that slid open of its own accord to admit them. She tried to mask the hurried step she took over the threshold as well as she could, though her continued awestruck surveillance of her surroundings--the large screens along the walls displaying information, the flashing lights, the beeps and low, mechanical hums--displayed the mixture of her curiosity and apprehension of it all no matter the measures she took to downplay them. And, when she finally found the emperor and his generals again, their mixed bags of expressions confirmed her failure. Frieza stared at her with an increasingly amused smirk, his tail tapping against the side of his chair, one a parent gives a learning child. The wide, pink general with a layer of spikes on top of his otherwise bald head and forearms grunted, his expression squished in impatience. The taller of the two sporting a green braid and a tiara with matching earrings tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, yellow eyes half-lidded in either boredom or disbelief.

Nabooru straightened her posture, mind working overtime to replay the last few seconds and figure out what sort of answer they expected her to give to a question she hoped she heard. She chewed the inside of her cheek, and hoped the blush in her cheeks was less apparent than it felt when she came up short.

“I apologize,” she bowed her head, unsure of the proper etiquette, “did you ask me something? I’m...a little overwhelmed.”

“Yes, I suppose even just this ship is quite a marvel to you, isn’t it, coming from such a technologically barren planet as yours? It has been quite some time since we recruited someone from a planet like yours.” Nabooru released the breath she held and raised her head again, returning to her full height and her hands behind her back when Frieza didn’t berate her for her misstep. A small voice inside her whispered how it wished he hadn’t whisked her away from her home, but she tamped it down like a stubborn weed before the sentiment could reflect itself in her eyes. “You will get used to it soon enough. As for what I asked, I requested your name. I like to know what to call my more promising acquisitions.”

Another fight to keep her expression neutral, her pride festering at being referred to as some otherworldly trinket that caught his eye. She lowered her head again. “My name is Nabooru, my lord. I thank you for the opportunity to serve you.” 

Bitter words on her tongue. Subjugation didn’t suit her, but laying the act on thick felt like the right move with the emperor. The whispers of his other soldiers about his temperament swirled through her mind as a constant reminder to behave if she wanted to survive. A reality that would take some adjusting to, and, once more, a role she didn’t want to play. One given without the luxury of choice.

“Splendid. Then, let’s get straight to business then.” He raised a pitch-taloned hand and the taller of the generals stepped forward. “Once we arrive at the base, Zarbon will give you the tour and enumerate your daily schedule for the time being. He will also outfit you with a proper uniform.”

Nabooru glanced between the three of them, taking the time to note that they all sported similar attire, as had the soldiers who first landed on Hyrule. She still wore the clothes she left Hyrule in: her patterned bandeau and pink pants in the typical Gerudo style along with the jewels she adorned herself in. The chest piece looked like armor of some sort, and though she never cared much for it, it didn’t look entirely uncomfortable. She wasn’t worried about the look of it either, as there seemed to be different styles and perhaps she would get lucky with one that suited her taste and figure. What did bother her was that her attire was all that she had with her to remind her of her home, her past and people, due to the instruction to pack light if anything at all. She gripped the strap of the bag slung over her shoulder; the changes of clothes she brought along felt all the more irrelevant.

She nodded as a show of understanding, sensing that resistance or questioning of the regimen set out for her would only go ignored if she was lucky. When the three returned to their own conversations about the successes of a few planetary ventures, the prospects of others to be considered in the future, Nabooru used the rest of the flight to drink in whatever information she could from them and her surroundings. What she would be expected to do. How the technology surrounding her worked or what she would needed to understand for her own purposes. The personalities of the emperor and his most trusted generals. A difficult task when, perhaps purposefully, they kept their talk clinical and impersonal. Emotionless reactions to each report, whether good news or bad.

When the ship landed at the base, a large edifice that could pass for a castle on her home planet save for its plainness and more angular architecture, Zarbon led her away from the emperor and his fellow general, his boredom once more pervasive on his immaculate face. His tone of voice matched it as he pointed out areas of interest: the mess hall, showers and bathrooms (a mild concern to her when she only saw what she identified as male bodies entering or exiting them), and the expansive halls that held the soldiers’ quarters where she would sleep. He did not spend much time discussing any of them, their functions self-explanatory enough. So Nabooru hoped. The last thing she wanted was to find that, after a long day, her bed was some sort of complicated apparatus or had some fancy voice command that made it comfortable enough for rest.

The door to another room slid open and she followed. “This is where you will have your daily lessons considering your...under educated background,” he said, the hint of a sneer on his lips. “Mostly teaching you the basics you will need to operate the most rudimentary of our tech needed to do your job efficiently along with the expectations of your role in planetary trade.”

“Trading planets?” Nabooru couldn’t help how her eyes narrowed, the implications of such a business unpleasant at best in her mind. Not to mention what that could mean for her own home. Was their fate as secure as she thought? She hid her distaste by continuing to survey the room and commit its location to memory. It looked like a fairly ordinary, all purpose classroom. Another expansive screen replaced a chalkboard at the head of the room with a metal podium in front of it. Two rows of glass-topped desks faced the front of the room. It made her wonder if others would be joining her for her lessons.

Zarbon flipped his braid over his shoulder. “Yes. Our business is in finding planets to trade or sell and readying them for such transactions in most cases. Others are used for the empire’s purposes if they’re deemed worthwhile for some reason or another. Much like yours.”

Hyrule had been lucky, then. Avoided a likely more violent takeover, potentially thanks to her people’s warrior prowess. While she doubted Ganondorf and the rest of the Gerudo would be horribly merciful when they took over, she had a feeling they would spare far more than Frieza’s forces if the decision concerning their planet had swung the other way. She would have laughed at the irony of it had better circumstances been offered for amusement.

“I see…”

“You will learn more about that here. It isn’t my job to teach you such basics.” He moved to the door and Nabooru took her cue to follow. “You will be expected to report here first thing in the morning after the first meal and your lessons will last until the afternoon meal. The rest of your day will be spent training so you can get a better handle on your ki and utilizing it in the most efficient ways for your station.”

“I mean no disrespect and I understand the need for learning the other facets of my new job, but that sounds more up my alley than sitting in a classroom for several hours.”

“Of course. It is expected of you warrior types.” Nabooru could hear the eyeroll in his voice despite her position behind him. Along with the scrunch of his nose with his next scoffed statement: “Speaking of brainless imbeciles…”

Her curiosity outweighed the split second surge in her temper over the insult to her and her people along with whoever the general had spotted in front of him. She took a step to the side to peer around Zarbon as they continued down the corridor. Three men in the similar style of armor as the rest of the crew strode toward them, a shorter one flanked by two much larger figures, the sight reminiscent of her first exposure to Frieza and his generals. The two in the back--a bald one with a mustache and the second’s large stature the only thing keeping him from being swallowed by the mass of black spikes sprouting from the top of his head down to the top of his boots--appeared to be in high spirits, excitedly discussing their latest victories and sharing in each other’s laughter. The one in the middle paid them little mind, his dark gaze only shifting from its fixed, forward position to note the two of them approaching. His lips curled into a smirk.

“Well, well. Did Frieza let you off your leash for once?” He cast Nabooru a fleeting glance but little more. His hand rose to press a button on the side of the device fitted over his ear connected to red glass over his eye. The two behind him had stopped laughing and followed suit, exchanging a glance between them. “And for babysitting duty nonetheless. Is there a demotion in your future?”

“Remember your place, Vegeta, before I have to forcefully remind you of it,” Zarbon sniffed, his haughty air rivaling that of the shorter male. Any ounce of resentment she had sensed over the task meted out to him disappeared, replaced by what she could only describe as pride in his sense of duty to Frieza. Once more, Nabooru had to dampen the urge to, at the very least, snort at the display. “I do hope the report from your latest mission is better than the last. Frieza wasn’t particularly fond of the amount of near irreparable collateral damage you and your baboons caused in sacking it.”

“Hmpt.” Movement at Vegeta’s waist caught Nabooru’s eye. What she had mistaken for a furry belt turned out to be a tail, the end of which had loosed itself from its secure position for a moment before it tucked itself back into place. “Whatever. We got the job done when all your other units failed. It’s a sad day when Nappa here can figure out the secret of their healing abilities when none of your top picks could. How many fleets failed and crawled back to base with nothing to show for it? Three? Four?”

“It hardly matters when you can’t follow simple instructions. Two prisoners is hardly recompense for the damage. But unfortunately, your fates are not mine to decide.” Zarbon twisted around to nod to Nabooru. “Come. We’ve wasted enough time with filth.”

The two larger men stepped aside as Zarbon pushed onward, and Nabooru didn’t miss the fire in their supposed leader’s or their own eyes as she passed. The seething rage bubbling beneath the surface at such a dismissal. The kind she had grown used to on her home planet when dealing with Hyrule’s court. She bit the inside of her cheek to distract her from such empathy she couldn’t afford. While she didn’t trust Zarbon either, she had no real intent of making alliances here if she could help it. She worried enough about the welfare of her people whose fate could very well be tied to her own performance within Frieza’s ranks. Whatever the story of those three tailed warriors and the animosity they had toward Zarbon and he to them, it was of no importance to her. Squabbles between ranks and authority were bound to happen in a militaristic environment.

Another door slid open and the pair entered what Nabooru could only describe as a storage room. Arrays of what she assumed were weapons lined the walls alongside cabinets and displays for the armor she would soon don. She waited near the doorway while Zarbon considered each set. “You would do best to steer clear of those Saiyans if you want to avoid trouble. Or be successful.” He picked out a set and held the pile of clothing out to her. “Before you ask, yes, it will fit. All of it stretches to even the most extreme sizes.”

When Zarbon turned around, Nabooru took that as her cue to change into the new outfit. Setting her satchel on the floor, she picked through the garments to figure out the sequence with which she was meant to put them on before undressing. She started with what looked like the pieces that went beneath the armor: a long sleeved, high neck-lined top in a deep red several shades darker than her bright hair and a matching pair of bottoms cut to cover little more than her private areas. A single test revealed that they did stretch with incredibly little resistance and enough for her to slip them on with little trouble. Though far from what she was used to, the fabric was more breathable than expected and fit her like a second skin.

She picked up the armor next, the same cut as that she had seen on most of the other soldiers save for the wings on the shoulders and hips, and the chest portion looked more suited to a feminine form. It stretched just as easily as the singlet, and she pulled it on over her head, sliding her arms through the straps. Once more, even the armor seemed to mold to her shape without being too tight or restricting her movement. 

As she tugged on the last few pieces of her new uniform--thigh high socks of the same material as her singlet and a pair of white, leather gloves and boots much like those she noted the smaller Saiyan wore--she watched Zarbon shift to another storage unit and tap in a code. A drawer popped out and, when she informed him she was decent and he faced her again, he held one of the devices they all wore over an eye in his hand. This one with orange glass.

"This is your scouter. It scans power levels and acts as a communicator, among other useful functions you will be taught in your lessons." He handed it over, and Nabooru turned it over in her hands. "I'm sure you will find it useful."

“Power levels? Like how strong another person is?”

“Indeed. No need to worry about wearing it now, but do remember to take it to your lessons.” Zarbon swept past her and back to the door, and Nabooru didn’t need any coaxing to follow. She dropped the scouter into her bag along with the rest of her belongings and shouldered it before following him back into the hall. 

"We have one more stop, the medical bay," the general continued in that same bored tone, but Nabooru noted a flicker of what she assumed was excitement over the prospect of finishing the task so beneath him and returning to his proper duties. "Its use is what you would expect, of course. It is where we will part ways. You will have your translator chip installed. By the time you wake up, it will likely be dinner. After you'll have time to do as you please for now. Fill it how you wish."

She almost failed to register any other information that followed the first bit. "Translator chip?" She felt dumb asking so many seemingly obvious questions. "Installed how?"

"It is a simple and near painless procedure," he responded, his sigh just barely held back. "We all have them for ease of communication. The task of learning every language in the universe would be all too time consuming, and not everyone can speak the galactic standard."

Nabooru nodded despite the discomfort she felt over what sounded invasive and too foreign for her liking. The reason behind it made sense. She had taken the time to learn as much of the other languages of Hyrule as she could, and to describe the endeavor as time consuming put it lightly. Not to mention the imperfection of it. In the time she left her home, she had only gotten a taste of the vastness of the universe. If it took her years to get a grasp on just a handful of languages, it would take eons to manually learn all the languages of every race in the universe. Reasoning through it, deeming this chip useful, still did nothing to ease her apprehension.

The double doors to the medical bay slid to each side and admitted them into the sterilized space so unlike the healing ward back home. Several tanks lined the far wall, and more screens lined half of the one adjacent to it The doctors wore the similar armor the rest of them did, though the one who approached the pair from the rows of cots on the other end of the room wore a white robe of sorts beneath his armor. His bushy orange eyebrows and beak-like snout made him resemble a rotund, wingless bird.

The conversation he and Zarbon held between one another was clipped and short, all business and no filler about the reason for their visit--one the doctor had been made aware of and prepped for prior, he proudly noted--as well as a discussion over new recruits to the medical bay and their adjustment. From the sounds of it, they were the prisoners he had mentioned in the conversation with the Saiyans. She had to keep herself from snorting when the doctor discussed a certain reluctance to help; if she didn't fear her own rebelliousness would trickle down to the fate of her people, she might not be so compliant. Piecing together the brief tiff in the hallway with this information suggested they had little left to lose.

Zarbon turned to her once more. "This is where I take my leave. Keep to your schedule and don't cause trouble. Frieza may have chosen you specifically out of a gaggle of mediocre warriors, but that does not mean you're valuable."

With a toss of his head and one last pointed glare, the general left her alone with the doctor and a smoldering combination of helplessness and anger searing her heart and lungs. He wasn't wrong; that she had no reservations about. But hearing it, feeling it in the presence of these warriors, generals, and other help within the base, she could not deny her expandability. How her rank on her home planet meant nothing now, and she had been kicked from the top to the bottom, her life of hard work and pushing herself to fight better and harder than the next Gerudo, learn everything she could to improve her station, all she did to earn rank and respect among her people had been reduced to cinders here. She was starting over with no real idea where she was headed. Where she could head, if anywhere at all.

Survive. That's what she had been taught to do first and foremost. The costs of survival, of not endangering the deal made to ensure her people got the better life she always wanted for them, would have to be worth paying.

The doctor led her to one of the tables and instructed her to lie back, the cool metal on the few portions of skin left uncovered making her shiver. She listened for a moment to the explanation of the procedure--a gas to put her under, an incision behind the ear, and just a bit of prodding around in her brain--before she decided that her ignorance of it would keep her from bolting. He fitted a mask to her face and told her to simply breathe deep and count backward or recite some poetry. Nabooru hardly made it through a line of a Gerudo poem she did happen to memorize before the gas clouded her brain and muddled her words. Her eyes fluttered closed, the tension in her body eking out of her, her hands balled into tight relaxing as she succumbed to sleep.