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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

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Scarlet Moon

Genre: Scarlet Heart Ryeo!AU, Time Travel!AU, Alternate History, Royalty!AU

Pairing: OC x EXO OT9

Summary: This isn’t Gwen’s time. She was from the modern era, with technology and electricity. But during a solar eclipse, she’s transported back into a previous life in a time and place she does not know. Now, as the foreign daughter of a merchant living in a prince’s household, she must tread carefully, watch her back, and guard her heart. But with the princes locked in a battle over the throne, the chances of her making it out alive might disappear.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3

********

The paper sliced across the skin before any action could be taken to avoid it. A high pitched hiss followed by a short whine. The flap of skin that had been separated was being dyed red.

Gwen stuck her index finger in her mouth to sooth the stinging. It helped a little bit. Still sucking on the appendage, Gwen stumbled over to the supply closet and opened the thin metal doors with the other hand. She kept this feat up as she opened the first aid kit and pushed around the different types of bandages, trying to decide which one to use. The cut was right on the tip, right where you never want it to be. It was hard to get a band aid on that kind of cut. Eventually, she found a smaller version of a standard design and ripped the paper covering opening. She wrapped the band aid around her index finger before heading for her desk. It was back to the files that had injured her in the first place.

The pile was tall; by her standards, at least. Gwen had been dealing with it for the past hour. The dates on the files needed sorting, separating the ones could be sent to long-term storage. She almost gave out another whine, but she didn’t want the others to hear and start the relentless teasing. Her coworkers were quick and very witty.

It was a friendly floor. Everyone joked and played around without the fear of feelings being hurt. If Gwen didn’t have to do the actual work that came with the office space, she wouldn’t mind staying here forever. But dealing with these files and demanding customers and meeting quotas was not what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. Not that Gwen knew exactly what it was that she did want to do. She’d tried a lot of things over the last few years in her slow going college years. Marketing, history, education - hell, she even took several makeup courses and skincare lessons that focused on natural resources. None of it stuck, none of it held her interest, though the information could be recalled if needed.

“You alright there, Gwen?”

Drudging up from the bowels of her thoughts, Gwen looked up at Kimberly, who had stopped at her desk on the way back from the printer.

“Yeah,” Gwen nodded with a sigh. “Just… ready for the week to be over.”

“Ain’t that the consensus,” Kimberly laughed.

“How are the dogs?” Gwen was seizing the opportunity to distract herself from work. Kimberly owned two dogs with opposite personalities. One was the well-mannered older brother, the other was the skittish, hyper younger brother. She loved to talk about them and there was never a shortage of entertaining stories.

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Kurt is back to back to demanding his breakfast at five a.m. Oh, but Kent now does this thing where he walks backwards. Whenever he starts doing that, we’ll beep at him. You know, like the garbage trucks? Then he gets all shy and hides his head.”

Gwen couldn’t stop giggling at the thought. “Oh, the poor thing!”

“You’ll have to see it next time you come over.”

“I can’t wait.”

As Kimberly walked away, Gwen sighed. She didn’t get out too much and the humor that most of her socializing outside of work was with one of her coworkers wasn’t lost on her. Just another dart to throw at the board that was Gwen Sinclair.

It wasn’t like her life was a complete disaster. Really, it could have been worse. She could imagine a thousand different scenarios that she could be living right now that were worse off then her current situation. Truthfully, if glanced at from the outside, Gwen’s life was simply... mediocre. She was blessed with tolerable roommates, an okay job that provided a nice paycheck for a twenty-three-year-old who had yet to finish college. But… the loneliness was killing her and overall, she was craving for something more.

She was exhausted from obligation and responsibility. She wished to go back to the days where she read about adventure and intrigue and imagined some day living that out herself. After having those words in her hands, she felt empty in her reality. Somehow, each day felt even more draining.

With the end of another workday, Gwen packed up the files that still needed to be sorted, locked up her cabinets and tugged on her coat as she waved goodbye to Kimberly and the others. A few other coworkers were chatting excitedly about the solar eclipse happening in a few minutes. Gwen, however, was annoyed. Annoyed at the fact that all anyone - online or in person - could talk about was the solar eclipse, as if it was the only one that had ever been seen in this generation. When one person mentioned the eclipse, it was fine. When it was every post and every comment and every conversation, it felt a little ridiculous. Gwen couldn’t care less about the event. Getting home was her current priority. But escaping wasn’t that easy.

For the millionth time, Gwen rolled her eyes as she scrolled through the newsfeed, waiting for her car to warm up in the parking garage. The weather was cold and dreary, slowing down her progress on getting home. Puffs of steam escaped her lips in the below freezing temperature. Other employees hurried past the back of her car to get to their own tiny sanctuaries. An alert for a new email popped up at the top of the phone screen. From the quick scan of the notification, she saw that it was from her eastern history professor. He wanted to go over the latest paper from class. Oh, no. That was never a good sign.

Gwen huffed, threw her car into reverse, and pulled out of the parking space. First the papercut, now this.

Since all her classes were online, Gwen had the minor luxury to not be forced to talk to her professor face to face, which surely would have been humiliating. But it couldn’t be avoided completely. She’d email him back once she arrived home. Or maybe she’d put it off until tomorrow. Dealing with this was the last thing she wanted to do. Stress was already causing her skin to revert back to puberty, she didn’t need this as well.

Her phone rang and she struggled to answer it while carefully winding down the levels of the garage. It was Jaynie, the favorite of the roommates.

“Hey, Janie, what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just wondering if you were coming straight home today.”

Gwen smirked, knowing exactly where this was going.

Over the past several months, a bit of an obsession had developed with Korean dramas. The shows the two of them consumed were different from the same old, boring American television and there were years worth of stories to choose from. Currently, they were in the middle of another romantic comedy. While Gwen loved the storyline and was in a constant state of swoon, as soon as the credits started rolling, she was reminded how pathetically uninteresting her life was. But those sixty plus minutes of pure escapism made it all worth the crash that came afterwards.

Gwen tried to wait patiently in the line to leave the parking garage, but her frustration was getting the better of her. It was stop and go, stop and go, stop and go.

“I’m planning on it. That is, if people decide any day now to not drive idiotically.”

“Ugh, I had the same problem on my way home.”

Curious. Both of them worked in the downtown area. “How did you get home so fast?” Gwen asked.

“I got off a little early today.”

“Lucky.” Her accounting job often led to flexible hours. Gwen was jealous of that level of freedom.

The road was slick from the freezing rain. Weather like this brought out all the stupid drivers as if this wasn’t a yearly occurrence. She was careful to look both ways before exiting the garage and inching into the street. What she didn’t account for was the other emptying lot across the street. A large black SUV pulled out right at the same time, but went too fast, hitting the water that was slowly turning to ice on the asphalt.

With no time to react, the SUV slammed into the side of Gwen’s compact car. Glass from the driver’s side window shattered and sprayed her face. Her phone flew out of her hand. The crunch of metal hit her ears before she could fully process what had happened. With the force of the collision, her forehead slammed against the steering wheel before the airbag deployed. The sound of screams echoed around her, but the words were unintelligible. Slumped over in her seat, a shadow creeped over the scene. Through the slits of her barely open eyes, Gwen watched as the sun disappeared behind the moon. Then all went black.

********

The water was what brought her back. It filled her lungs and surrounded her on all sides. She flailed her limbs, desperate for traction that couldn’t be found. Her clothing weighed her down, the hems being pulled as if hands had gripped tight on them. She needed a miracle. And a miracle she got. Two hands held onto one of her wrists and pulled her to the surface.

She gasped for air as her rescuer struggled to bring her to shore. The cloth that covered her felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds, making it nearly impossible to move. Water made its way up her throat, spilling over her lips. Her lungs were finally clear. They took in as much oxygen as they were allowed, burning with each brath.

“Lady Gwen! Lady Gwen!”

A young girl blocked out the bright sun. She shook Gwen’s shoulders desperately.

Gwen’s brain processed that the girl was not speaking English, but… she could understand her. The girl’s damp, dark hair was pulled into halves on either side of her face held in place by wide red straps. She looked at Gwen with deep concern, like a lifelong friend. But Gwen was sure she had never seen this girl before in her life.

“My Lady, can you hear me?” she asked frantically.

“Who are you?” Gwen finally choked out.

That made the girl pause in her panic. “What?”

Slowly regaining her strength, Gwen pushed herself up to her knees. As her eyesight cleared, she took in her surroundings. Gone were the tall metal and glass buildings, traffic lights, and speeding cars of her modern home. Now all that surrounded her were trees and a sandy beach of a large, calm lake. In the distance, wooden houses with curved rooftops, painted in bright reds and greens dotted the horizon. The heaviness that weighed her down was a dress made of too many layers and of no western fashion that she’d ever experienced before.

Whispers bounced around the rocky shore. All the faces that were looking on with concern around were unfamiliar. Gwen grabbed the hair cascading down her back, but it was still the red she knew, darker from the dampness of being pulled out of the water but still her hair.

“Where am I?” she asked in a quiet, gasping voice.

“My Lady, don’t you remember?” The girl panicked. “You’re in Songak. Goryeo.”

“Goryeo?” Gwen screeched. All the minor details she could summon up of the country came rushing to the forefront of her mind. It was information overload and her brain couldn’t handle it. Her lungs tried desperately to keep up, breathing in as much air as they could, but her throat was closing up from the panic. The landscape blurred and she fell to the ground.

********

She was in a bed this time when she regained consciousness. The room was cold and dimly lit with soft, orange candlelight. A man, Caucasian unlike the others, sat beside the bed on a stool, worry etched into every facet of his face.

“Gwen, sweet, are you all right?”

English. He was speaking English. But that was a footnote of comfort to the bigger problem. She still didn’t know what had happened to her or how she got here or who these people were that seemed to know her. The man, who was about in his mid-forties with salt and pepper hair, smiled down at her, though his eyes were confused. “Gwen, does it hurt anywhere? Can you tell me if you hit your head?”

Gwen took a moment, to calm down and to evaluate what she was feeling physically. Her head didn’t hurt, nor did any other part of her body. Wordlessly, she shook her head. The man seemed relieved.

“Are you all right?” He asked again, a different meaning under the question this time. “Chae Ryung said you couldn’t remember her or that we were in Goryeo? Do you at least remember your papa?”

Gwen weighed the choices in her mind. There wasn’t a mirror around, but she started to wonder if she had taken the place of someone else. Someone who knew these strangers. She could say that she didn’t know any of them - the truth - but would they think her mad if she spilled too much? Perhaps she could say she remembered a few things. Like him, if he is this poor girl’s father. Why am I here? In this time?

Choosing to comprise with herself, she gave the smallest of nods. “Papa.” Sitting up, she pulled him into a hug and there was something comforting about his embrace. This body remembered him, at least.

“What happened?” she asked after she let go.

“Chae Ryung said that you’d wandered off again and she found you, you’d been the water a long time.” The man, Papa, sucked in a breath, his eyes beginning to water. His genuine concern over her wellbeing made Gwen choke up as well. “The doctor said you stopped breathing. That could explain your lost memories.”

Good. The excuse was already in her hands. That should make it easy enough to play along while being forgiven for any missteps. But they shouldn’t be in Goryeo. That didn’t make any sense, historically. If anything, they might have been in Joseon – late Joseon. Was this some sort of alternate timeline? Or maybe she hit her head really hard in the car crash and this is really all a dream from the stress of her paper and too much K-drama.

Yes. Too much K-drama.

That had to be the explanation. This was all a strange dream. Which meant, she could play along and not be afraid. She could ask questions and live out the day until she woke back up in her own time, most likely in a hospital with a bandage on her head and her mother fretting over her.

She glanced around the room, taking in the architecture that she had only ever seen in pictures. In person, it was even more stunning and intricate. This wasn’t an ordinary citizen’s home. Interesting. What else could her brain come up with? “Why are we in Goryeo?��

“Your father’s a merchant, remember?” He spoke slowly. Each word was deliberate, giving Gwen time to process. Good filler for her mind. “I made a large fortune here and planned on taking you back home, but… your mother is buried here. We couldn’t leave her behind.”

A wave of emotion hit out of nowhere. Though her mother was alive and well, it didn’t stop a tear from escaping. “Mama.”

Papa wiped it away with a coarse finger. Gwen gasped back, surprised by the realness of the touch. Her dreams were never this intricate. The blanket strone across her lap scrunched in her fingers. It was cold and soft… and very real.

She wasn't dreaming, was she?

Confused by her reaction, Papa paused for a moment before continuing his explanation. “The eighth prince is graciously letting us stay with him while we wait on the construction of our home to be complete.”

The eighth prince?

Panic grew tenfold. If this wasn’t a dream, then she was in very big trouble. If history told her one thing, it was that proximity to royalty was the most dangerous place to be. Gwen might possibly have been able to skate by if they were simply staying in some unknown village far from the capital, but they were in a prince’s home. Which meant they were in… Songak, the capital city, just like that girl – Chae Ryung – had said. Right under the King’s nose. Breathing became difficult again. Each one was shallow, barely letting in any oxygen. Gwen could feel her chest tighten and her vision blurred.

“Gwen!” Papa jumped up and tried to keep her straight to give her lungs as much room as possible. He switched to Korean as he called out over his shoulder, “Someone, get the doctor! Now!” Shuffling sounds echoed off the floor on the other side of the sliding door and then faded away.

A minute later, breathing no better, two men and a woman rushed inside along with Chae Ryung. The older man stepped in front of Papa and took his place. He pushed Gwen’s shoulders gently until she was lying down. Two cold fingers against her wrist checked her pulse. The other, much younger man stepped up to Papa.

“What happened?”

Papa frowned. “It seems she’s lost some of her memories. I was explaining why we were here when suddenly she had trouble breathing.” He stopped, struggling with his own breath. “I’m sorry we’ve become a burden to you, Your Highness.”

Gwen’s breathing was regaining strength and she was able to concentrate on the conversation. So that was the eighth prince. He was younger than she would have guessed, handsome even, if she had to focus on something other than her lack of breath.

“Do not think such a thing,” the Eighth Prince replied. “Your presence has greatly improved the household. Lady Gwen will get better with time.”

Papa bowed, obviously grateful at the response. He turned to the woman. “Lady Hae, may I enquire after your own health?”

“Today is a better day,” she smiled, though her pale, drained complexion said otherwise. “Please, don’t worry about me. Keep your thoughts for your daughter.”

The doctor released Gwen’s wrist, satisfied with the improvement of her pulse and breathing. He stood up.

“It was a mild panic attack,” the doctor said calmly to Papa. “If it happens again, she should lie down and focus on her breathing. The incident at the lake seems to have taken a toll on her body. She simply needs rest. In time, her memories and her body will recover.”

Gwen didn’t agree with that statement fully. This body might get better in time, but there was no way memories that didn’t exist would ever return. One by one, the occupants left the room until it was only Gwen and Papa remaining behind. Silence hung in the air. After a moment, Papa sat down on the stool and took Gwen’s hand.

“I was worried I had lost you,” he whispered.

Gwen’s eyes fell down to the blanket covering her legs. Things were becoming clearer to her now. This was not a dream and she was no longer Gwen Sinclair from the twenty-first century. Something must have happened. She didn’t know what exactly had occurred or what would happen now, but she was here. And little did this man – known only to her as “Papa” – know that he had indeed lost his daughter. The face may be the same, but the Gwen inside was different. She would try her best to be good to him, at least until she found a way to get back to her own family. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

********

The next morning, the doctor, along with the Eighth Prince, came back to check on Gwen. The doctor commented that her pulse was stronger and that she seemed well on the road to full health. However, he still insisted on keeping her on bedrest.

Bored with these same walls and too curious about her temporary home, Gwen sat up. If she was going to be here for a while, she might as well get to know it. “I’m fine. Please, don’t make me stay in here all day. The sun and air is good for you, isn’t it?”

The sudden rebelliousness against the doctor’s suggestion did not seem to sit well with any of them. Gwen gave Papa a pleading look. A father couldn’t resist those eyes. He sighed, turning to the doctor. “Perhaps, a little exercise in walking around the grounds would be all right?”

The doctor looked reluctant, but he agreed. “But she shouldn’t overexert herself.”

“Chae Ryung will stay with her,” the Eighth prince ordered. “If you’ll please excuse me, I must meet with my brothers.” He bowed and left, followed by the doctor.

Having heard her name from the hallway, Chae Ryung shuffled quickly inside and over to Gwen, holding out her arms for the latter to balance on as she slid off of the bed. “Are you sure you want to go outside?”

Gwen nodded. “Yes. Perhaps seeing more of this place will help jog my memory.”

Chae Ryung tilted her head. “How can your memory jog?”

Gwen snorted, both at Chae Ryung’s confusion and at herself for the slip of the modern phrase. “Sorry, I just meant, maybe my memories will come back.”

“Oh.” The look on her face was enough to make Gwen laugh again.

Gwen scolded herself internally. She had to be more careful with her words. Every step was one on thin ice. She couldn’t change who she was, not completely, but she would have to pull back. Chae Ryung, however, felt safe, like a shelter from the rain. With her, Gwen could find answers that might be dangerous to seek elsewhere. Straightening her shoulders, Gwen smiled broadly and took her newest friend’s hand. Chase Ryung grinned brightly at her and guided her out of the room.

#exo royalty au #exo royalty!au #scarlet heart au #scarlet heart ryeo #exo time travel au #exo time travel!au #exo angst #exo series #exo x oc #exo x original character #exo ot9 #Scarlet Moon

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writers-blogck · 4 years

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Creeper in the Snow ( Karasuno x Manager!Reader )

Warning(s): Weird old man lol. Is this good, probably not. This is more of a crackfic than anything in my head. But here it is! Title: Creeper in the Snow Pairing: Karasuno x Manager!Reader Fandom: Haikyuu! Word Count: 2.047

The cold cloud escaped your lips with every breath you took. Snow still lay on the ground from that night's storm. The roads were cleared though the sidewalks still had the inch or so of snow that hadn't melted at all with the rising sun. Your shoes would be soaked by the time you got to the gym but by then you could switch into your indoor shoes. All you had to do was get there and open up the gym before any of the team got there.

You were in charge of getting the gym set up before the team got there, or at least starting the process. It was normal for one of the boys to arrive at six-thirty to see the doors already open, net material brought out (you were too small to set it up by yourself without one of he poles falling on you), and freshly cleaned balls. On certain occasions, you went even earlier to set everything up for the boys. You were a second-year, though you got mistaken for a first-year often. Screw you chubby face!

This meant that it was your second year managing for the team and it would be a lie to say you hadn't gotten attached to your little family. So, what was the harm in doing something special every now and again? On Valentine's Day, you had made everyone chocolates and put cute hearts everywhere in the gym. Christmas, you went all out. Lights, a tiny tree (with gifts included), and anything you thought could make practice a bit more special. You would only be in high school together for so long, you wanted to make the most of it!

Today wasn't a special day, perhaps, but you were still out in the chilly weather at the ungodly hour of six a.m. on a Saturday. Why you may ask? Well, thank you for asking disembodied voice! You decided to be nice and get to the gym before the others to turn the heat on. This way, when they finally did arrive, they would enter a warm gym instead of what would feel like the icecream fridge at Ukai's store. Weren't you just an amazing manager? Kiyoko had early lessons on the weekends and Yachi lived farther away than you.

It took one small metro ride and a twenty-minute walk to get to the school, but you didn't mind. You normally liked the time by yourself, it gave you time to think. Most days you would have one of your earbuds in to listen to music or some podcast but today, your phone and headphones were tucked away in your schoolbag. Today was not going to be a relaxing trip, not in the slightest.

Everything had been fine until you stepped off ar your stop, one you normally left alone. All of the other passengers had other stops to get to, you were the only regular passenger that got off this stop. It was hard to keep your stomach was sinking when you noticed a man in his late thirties get off at the same station. At first, you didn't think anything of it but when you noticed the man had his phone out, your anxiety began to swell. Was he following you? Perhaps he worked in the same area. You were just being ridiculous.

As you went over the practice plans for the day, you noticed that even after five minutes of leaving the station, the man was still following you. You thought about the phone stuffed deep in your bag, hidden by your binders and pens that you had casually tossed in that morning. Should you call someone? Who would be up this early? You didn't want to wake someone up just because you were scared. You often worried over Hinata when he got hit by one of the volleyballs and ended up being called a worrywart. You overreacted to the tiniest little thing, this was just something like that.

Or so you wanted to believe.

As you saw the gym approaching, you shoved your numb fingers in to fish out the keys. The man had slowed down his pace but you still saw glimpses of him when you turned corners. You were ready to just be inside the gym and be able to lock yourself inside. The others could knock when they arrived, they would understand if you told them what happened, right? You were so close to your paradise when a loud cough startled you enough to drop the keys in the soft snow beneath.

"Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." It was the man with a friendly look on his face. Everything about him screamed of a normal man. He probably was a father or some upstanding businessman. He wasn't like the creeps the metros warned girls about.

"It's okay..."

"I didn't know you were going to Karasuno or I might have walked with you. I'm here for a teacher's meeting? I've come from out of state and I'm not sure where I'm supposed to go. You go here, right? I was hoping that you could help me find my way to the library."

See, you were overreacting. He was just some lost teacher, that wasn't so bad. You could almost hear Tanaka and Nishinoya's voices teasing you about you being a scardey cat. You spent most of your time with the chaotic boys due to being in the same grade as them which led the three of you to form a strong connection. They always made fun of you for being so jumpy like Asahi. Maybe they were right, you were too skittish.

"Oh, well, all you have to do is-"

"I was hoping you could show me where the library was, I'm not good at remembering things. I used to be able to when I was a youngin but I can't seem to remember things as well anymore." He joked, taking a small step in your direction. Instinctively you took a step back of your own, hitting the locked doors of the gym. You could feel the hint of cold metal even through your clothes.

"My team will be arriving soon so I don't know if I have time-"

"Here, let me get that for you!" The older man kept interrupting you anytime you tried to object to his 'friendliness'. He bent down to grab the keys you dropped and just as you heard the click of him phone taking a photo, everything bubbled over. It all happened so fast! You could hardly tell what had even happened until it was all over and you could look back once everything calmed down.

The first thing that happened was the sound of a collective cacophony of male yelling. The creep had been shoved face-first into the cold snow with a foot pushing into his left hand with no care of how much force they were using. The phone he had been holding lay a few inches away before being picked up by someone else. You blinked owlishly as you finally looked up, taking in the entire chaotic situation around you.

Five boys were standing there, each with a unique expression on their face. Tanaka stood out the most as he had been the culprit who pushed the man into the snow. His foot didn't leave the creep's hand as he stared down at him with a snarl. There was that well-known Tanaka glare. He was one of the team members that was the most (outwardly) protective. If Noya had been there, they would be a deadly duo. No one could win against the two guard dogs of Karasuno! Still, your red-headed kouhai seemed to be taking the place of the rolling thunder warrior. He was just as bouncy, though he was staying a few inches behind Tanaka.

Daichi had been the one to grab the phone, the terrifying dad look on his face. Suga's arms wrapped around you, pulling you away from the mass of bodies that were piling up and the chaos that was growing. The last one who had stayed silent from the sidelines was Asahi, a worried look in his eyes. Of course, all of the upperclassmen would be some of the first ones to arrive, that was normal. It was surprising to see Tanaka and Hinata so early and so awake. How many times had Tanaka stumbled in three minutes before practice started, jacket on backward, and a wild look in his eyes?

"You think you can get away with being a pervert to our precious manager, huh?! Delete those picture, you creep!" Tanaka's voice echoed across the empty schoolyard, the only other witnesses of the event being the birds high in the trees. All you could do was stand in confusion as the boys figured everything out. Tanaka was one to overreact but Daichi always had a level head. Seeing him with such a rage-filled look in his eyes was scary. Sure, the guy had made you feel uncomfortable but Tanaka didn't have to be so aggressive.

"I-Please..." The older man's cheek was becoming a bright red as the snow from his fall was sliding off slowly. His hand had to be going numb since he wasn't wearing any type of glove and Tanaka refused to move his foot. They had spoke about pictures....what had he taken a picture of? It was too early for you to put two and two together but the boys had seen it with their own eyes. The guy had been taking a photo of under your skirt as he 'helped you' with the keys.

"Don't try it!" Hinata bounced up, head peeking over Tanaka's shoulder as if the upperclassmen was a shield for him. It would have been funny if you weren't so confused about what was going on.

"He was just trying to get directions," You murmured to Sugawara, watching Asahi grab the keys and begin to open up the gym. It felt as if the boys were split into two different groups: the ones that were dealing with you and then the ones dealing with the old man. Sugawara and Asahi ushered you inside, leaving the other three to finish up what they were doing. Before the steel door shut you off from the outside, you heard the distinct sound of shattering glass as something was tossed to the ground.

Then they were gone, the door blocking out any noises that may come from outside.

How had that all happened in less than ten minutes? The clock read 6:45, fifteen minutes until the practice was supposed to start. You would have normally been here for nearly a half-an-hour before any of the boys showed up. You were thankful for whatever reason brought the boys here earlier than normal. What would have happened if they hadn't shown up? What had even happened to begin with?!

"Are you alright?" Sugawara's hands were hovering over you like a worried mother as he brushed off any stray snow that may have gotten on you. They were right to call Suga the team's mom, he was the best at making sure everyone was okay. He knew exactly what to say at the right moment and always was there to lend a shoulder to lean on when you needed some help.

"Yeah...He was just asking for some directions, he said that he had a meeting in the library today."

"There isn't a meeting today, is there?" Asahi spoke up, more to himself than anything. Suga shot a glare in his direction causing Asahi to quickly change his tone.

"Don't worry about it. Let's get it warmed up in here!" Asahi offered his kind smile, his hand resting on your smaller shoulder.

"I was planning on getting here early to do that but then that guy distracted me..."

"No worries, they say the cold can do the body some good." Suga glanced over his shoulder to flash a comforting look before going back to turning on the heat. Even though the room was filled with the chill of winter, you felt warm with the knowledge that you would always have your team to keep you safe.

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tk-writer · 4 years

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Jealous. [Haikyuu!! - Tsukkiyama]

Tsukishima fights an intense ler mood at practice one day when he sees Yamaguchi and Nishinoya messing around.

Word count: 2693

hi there! i stole this idea from That One Scene in the baseball anime Ookiku Furikabutte (Big Windup!) i’d link it here but of course i can’t find the post with the video kajsfhajks. anyway, here’s tsukishima with a Phat(™) ass ler mood & cute boi Yamaguchi as tribute. enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tsukishima could barely focus during practice that day, and it was all Yamaguchi’s fault.

The blonde barely uttered a word that afternoon, even when his fellow teammates addressed him directly. They figured he was finally taking the game seriously for once, not wanting to get left behind as the rest of them soared to greater heights. But in truth, volleyball was the furthest thing from his mind.

His thoughts - and his heart - were set on his childhood best friend, whose antics that day made it impossible to focus on read blocking, on spiking, on anything. All because of that stupidly infectious laugh of his.

While Tsukishima was taking a quick break, his steely eyes fixated on his freckled friend as he got ready for another round of serving practice. Lately he'd been flopping most of his jump floats, so today he had dedicated almost all of his time to perfecting them. He was working harder than almost anyone else, which earned him Tsukishima’s respect even though he never said it aloud.

However, instead of heading to the court to take his place, Tsukishima saw him walk towards Nishinoya with cheeks ablaze. His ears perked up as he caught the tail end of their conversation, finding it difficult to pull his attention elsewhere.

“Hey, uh… Nishinoya?”

“What's up?”

“Can you… umm… do ‘it’ again?”

Nishinoya tilted his head in confusion, but beamed with joy when he realized what Yamaguchi was asking.

“Ohh, you want me to do ‘it’ to help you relax?”

“Uhm, y... yes, please!”

“Alrighty! Lift up your arms! Hehehe…”

Tsukishima had a gut feeling about what was coming next and turned away before anyone could notice the blush creeping across his own cheeks.

A couple seconds passed before an all-too familiar laugh rang out through the gymnasium, capturing the attention of all but one blonde haired blocker who refused to look. An unfamiliar emotion swirled in the pit of his stomach, one he couldn't put a name to until much later when the two of them were alone.

“-Aheeheehaha! Gaaaaah!”

“Stop moving around so much! You’re making it difficult!”

“I cahahahahan’t!!”

Their fun was soon interrupted by the team captain, who was less than pleased to see his juniors messing around once again. As soon as the two underclassmen heard Daichi’s stern voice yelling at them from the court, they froze up and stood at attention.

“Stop fooling around you two! Yamaguchi, get out here and serve already!”

“Right! Sorry!!”

The pinch server regained what composure he could before racing out to the court while Nishinoya zoomed over to the other side. Tsukishima watched in disbelief as his friend took a deep breath, got a running start, and then successfully completed a perfect jump float, one that even Nishinoya couldn’t receive.

So that ‘it’ thing really worked, huh? He tried his best to fight the smile creeping across his face, kicking himself mentally for being so soft. Seeing that unfold before him was so lame, so ridiculous, so undeniably and indisputably...

…adorable.

Nishinoya ran up and gave his teammate a double high five, then poked him in the ribs to throw him off. Yamaguchi doubled over, clutching his sides while his high pitched laughter floated through the air.

Tsukishima pretended not to notice.

He saw it happen again later, while Yamaguchi was sitting next to Suga on the bench during break. The third year was much more subtle about it, doing sneaky things like poking his side repeatedly and whispering mean teases in his ear. Tsukishima could make out a few words here and there scattered in between Yamaguchi’s tittered giggles. The first year was doing his best to stay quiet, clamping a hand over his mouth while he squirmed in place, probably to save himself the embarrassment.

Tsukishima glanced over his shoulder, trying not to make it too obvious he was watching.

“...does it tickle here?”

“Pfffft, bahahaha!”

“...here… or what about here…?”

“Eheheheehee! Sugaaaa!”

He couldn’t tell which was worse. Suga’s soft, yet sadistic teasing, or Yamaguchi’s breathless begging. Watching his nose scrunch up, bunching the scattered freckles across his face together while he threw back his head and finally erupted into full blown belly laughs. It was all too much for the middle blocker. In his head, a single sentence repeated itself over and over again like a mantra for the rest of his time at practice, one he couldn’t ignore no matter how much he tried to repress it:

I should be the one getting him.

~~~~~

When the sun began to dip under the horizon, the two of them left the gymnasium together and walked side by side as they headed home, like they always did after practice. Tsukishima was as quiet as ever, still mulling to himself while Yamaguchi tried making small talk. He didn’t really register what he was saying, as his mind was still replaying the scenes from earlier. He was so deep in thought that he barely heard his friend calling his name.

“...Tsukki? Earth to Tsukki! Helloooooo?”

The blonde perked up, finally coming back to reality. Yamaguchi was staring at him with his big, brown eyes, like a puppy dog seeking attention from its master. He thought about the way he squeezed them shut when Nishinoya tickled his sides, and then how sweet his giggles sounded when Suga was poking him. He thought about how much he wanted to hear him laugh like that again, right here, right now.

He couldn’t deny it any longer. He really, really wanted to tickle Yamaguchi.

Without saying a word, Tsukishima slapped the back of his neck and began to give him gentle squeezes.

“Aaaaaah! Tsukkiiiii!”

Yamaguchi’s reaction was as predictable as always. He raised his arms to try and grab Tsukki’s hands, leaving his midsection wide open for an attack. The middle blocker jabbed into his sides, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly in amusement while Yamaguchi tried to fight the tickles from both ends. It was funny how much those subtle touches affected him. No wonder everyone else on the team enjoyed teasing him so much.

“Are you still spending the night tonight?” He asked, keeping a straight face as he feigned ignorance to Yamaguchi’s suffering.

“Ahahaha! I already said yeahahahaha!”

He gave him a few more rapid squeezes before letting him go. Yamaguchi let out a few more breathy laughs, then immediately started to whine, but it went unnoticed by a brooding Tsukki. He was still unsatisfied, but this little taste was enough to blow him over until they reached his house. Maybe then he’d feel a bit more bold.

~~~~~

As soon as they got back to Tsukishima’s place, they kicked off their shoes and went straight for the couch to watch some stupid TV shows. It was a Friday night, and they basically had the place to themselves since the rest of his family was out of town. Yamaguchi sat on one end of the couch, shoving fistfuls of cheese-itz into his mouth while Tsukishima sat on the other end, looking bored as ever as some dumb cartoon episode played on the screen. In reality, he was using all of his willpower to fight back his embarrassing little urge. His fingers twitched in place, tapping against the arm of the couch incessantly as if relieving pent up energy.

“Hey,” he said after an hour or so of silence.

“Yeah?” Yamaguchi mumbled with a mouthful of cheese.

“What was up with that whole ‘it’ thing earlier,” he asked casually, hoping his curiosity wouldn’t betray him.

“Huh?” Yamaguchi gulped down his cheesy snack. “Oh! You mean…”

He trailed off, the end of his sentence barely audible. Tsukishima noticed a pinkish hue forming on his cheeks as his gaze fell to the floor. It complimented his freckles quite nicely. God, why did he have to be so cute?

“Uh, well… Nishinoya suggested it ‘cause I kept getting nervous, and he said it could help me relax…”

“Uh huh. Did it work?”

“Actually, yeah! I felt like it helped loosen me up.”

“Uh huh.”

There was a brief moment of awkward silence that fell between them before Yamaguchi spoke up again.

“Uh, why do you ask?”

“You know,” Tsukishima said, leaning over his friend who was sprawled out across the cushions. “You can ask me. If you ever want ‘it’.”

“Wha, what?!”

Tsukki grabbed both of his wrists and held them down firmly, with little resistance from the pinch server who stared at him with a dumbfounded look, as if he hadn’t expected this to happen at all. He donned his most convincing poker face, hoping it was enough to mask his nervousness. His heart was beating so fast, it felt like it was climbing up his throat. There was no going back now.

“Tsukki…? What, what are you doing?!”

“Do you like it?”

“...Huh? Like what?”

Tsukki flashed a knowing smirk before he asked his next question.

“Do you like being tickled?”

There it was. He managed to spit it out, after all, as much as he hated saying that word. It looked like it bothered Yamaguchi just as much, who was already writhing beneath him.

“Whahahat?! Me? Wh, why do you ask?!”

He was giving himself away with his nervous laughter and skittish babbling. Tsukishima hadn’t touched him at all, and he was already so worked up. His smirk turned into a grin as he shuffled the trapped wrists into one hand and hovered the other over his head.

He was really going to enjoy this.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

Yamaguchi pulled weakly at his trapped arms, not really trying to get away but not surrendering either. He wiggled with what little room he had, and the sight made Tsukishima even more eager to get started. He noticed that the hem of his shirt had ridden up, exposing a bit of his belly button, and snuck his hand underneath so that it rested against his bare skin. It felt warm in his palms, and it twitched a lot just from the slight movement of his hand.

“Ehehehe, Tsukki!! Wait!!”

“Not gonna answer? Mmmk.”

Unable to hold out any longer, Tsukishima wisped the tips of his fingers against Yamaguchi’s stomach. His skin was soft to touch and quivered like jello. The freckly-faced boy squealed loudly, arching his back and pushing himself further into Tsukishima’s hand. The blonde couldn’t help but smile; only he knew how weak his friend was to light tickles, and he was going to exploit that fact for as long as he could.

“Tsukeeheeheehee!! Wahahahahit!!”

“It's really obvious that you like it,” Tsukishima stated matter-of-factly, continuing to spider in a circular motion around his navel. “You were so shy about asking, and you never said stop.” He moved towards his side, raking the entire length of his waist as Yamaguchi shrieked, squirmed, and protested. His torso bounced up and down like he was on a trampoline, contorting himself as much as he could with what little room he had to move. He accidentally brushed against his hip and remembered how bad it was there once Yamaguchi shrieked in ticklish agony.

“Ahahahaha, nghhhh, noHOHOHO NOT THEHEHERE!!”

“Not where? Here? You mean your hips? You’re really weak there, aren’t you?”

Tsukishima proved himself by tickling that hyper-sensitive area, putting his thumb in the crease of his thigh while his other four fingers dug into the side of his hip. Yamaguchi bucked his hips in response, involuntarily trying to shake him off but instead pushing himself further into the blonde’s grip once again. His laughter was bubbly and wild, jumping through multiple octaves until he lost his energy and fell into silent laughter. That’s when Tsukishima knew he was getting to him. He eased up, still stroking the waist of his shorts but at a much slower pace so he could catch his breath.

“Such a big reaction from a little touch,” he whispered, ghosting his fingers up his chest until they reached his collarbones. He fluttered against them with a feather-light touch, relishing Yamaguchi’s small squeaks and flinches. He climbed further, skittering the backs of his nails against his neck while the pinch server shook his head from side to side. He tried fighting back his giggles, but they burst through despite his best efforts.

“NgghhaahAHAHAHAHA! Pleeeeease! Tsukeeheehee!”

Tsukishima moved up to his ears, jumping from one to the other as he nearly tickled his friend to hysterics. Every time he turned his head, he’d just go to the other, making it impossible to shake him off. Yamaguchi was unable to form words, once again succumbing to silent laughter.

“What’s wrong? Can’t talk? Maybe this will help,” Tsuki poked one of his underarms and nearly got bucked off the couch from how violently Yamaguchi thrashed. After grounding himself a bit more steadily, he focused his efforts on this new spot, poking the center of his pit again and again while his friend convulsed beneath him. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he tried hiding his face in one arm, perhaps from shyness or embarrassment. That just made Tsukki poke his other armpit, which elicited another goofy cackle from the trapped server.

He kept it up for several more minutes until Yamaguchi’s face was bright red and his giggles turned into wheezes. Tsukki gave him a few seconds of respite, allowing him to catch his breath before things got too intense. He put his hand on his stomach again and lazily traced random patterns into his trembling skin.

“I don't think it's lame, by the way,” he said, tracing a line from one side to the other while the brunette snickered from the light touch. “You can ask me whenever.”

“Aheeheehee… aha! ...I… I cahahan?”

“Yeah. Just don't be weird about it,” Tsukishima released him at long last, taking a moment to enjoy the blushing, disheveled sight that was Yamaguchi. The guy had curled himself into a ball in case Tsukishima decided to attack again and was still giggling, even now when Tsukki was at least a foot away.

“So… you don’t think I’m lame?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned about what his friend thought of him. The blonde shrugged his shoulders, acting nonchalant while his insides fluttered like butterflies.

“Nah. You’re a pretty cool guy. I guess.”

Yamaguchi sounded a bit hoarse, so Tsukki went to the kitchen to fetch him a glass of water. He chugged it down so fast he started coughing, and Tsukki rubbed circles in his back until he was breathing normally again.

“Wait… why were you watching me so much at practice?” the brunette suddenly asked while staring at his friend, who looked quite taken aback from the unexpected question.

“I wasn’t. I just…”

“Hold on! You were jealous, weren’t you? Did you wanna do ‘it’ to me at practice? Did ya? Did ya?” Yamaguchi poked at his friend’s ribs, moreso to annoy him than get a reaction, and luckily the blonde was able to stifle his own vocalization. He slapped away his hand and furrowed his brows in a fake display of annoyance.

“Stop. And how bold of you to assume I was focusing all my attention on you, dummy.”

Seeing him don a shit-eating grin only spurred Tsukki’s irritation on. He felt his own cheeks burn with humiliation now that he’d been discovered. It wasn’t often that Yamaguchi got the best of him, and when he did, he made sure to rub it in as much as he could.

“Awww, Tsukki!! If you wanna tickle me that bad, you can just ask too!”

“Shut up. And don’t say that. It’s embarrassing. For you, I mean.”

“Hehe, what's the matter Tsukki? Can't say it? You can't say t-EHEHEHEHEE NOOOOOO! Please no I'm sohahahahree!!!”

Yamaguchi spluttered out pleas for mercy through more wild laughter as Tsukki latched onto his sides, tickling with much more ferocity than before. They stayed there for a while longer, just enjoying their closeness now that both of their little secrets were out in the open. Yamaguchi’s laugh rang out like musical notes, filling the house with a wonderful, heartwarming sound.

And for once, Tsukki actually laughed along with him.

#tickle fic #haikyuu!!#tsukkiyama #lee!yamaguchi #ler!tsukishima #FINALLY I FINISHED THIS KJRHKJF JEEZ #ONLY TOOK ME TWELVE YEARS #IM NEVER WRITING ANYTHING EVER AGAIN LOL OL OL OL #jk but for real its 4 am this is barely coherent i need 2 slempt

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moonstruckbucky · 4 years

Text

The Wilds [5/?]

Summary: After a bitter divorce, you seek solace in the wilds of Alaska. Unbeknownst to you, it’ll change you in ways you could have never imagined.

Warnings: More sadness, some anxiety.

Notes: Uh, hi? Please don’t kill me for the absolute nosedive I took with this story. I had some personal issues in my life (false alarms, thank god) that hit a little too close to both the content of this story and some personal experiences, so I had to take a step back. Please enjoy this next chapter where we’ll learn a bit more about Bucky! x

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

The lake doesn’t feel so peaceful despite the quietness along the water, which matches your mood. Turbulent, unsettled, marred by rolling whitecaps as a result of the slightly rough breeze. It’s cool today, and as you sit by the water, you try and let the wind carry your uneasiness away. You’ve been doing good, so good, and as if he could hear it, Shawn had to make his reappearance. You’d known he would - he couldn’t let you sit for too long. Had to reassert himself, had to reassert his control.

Control you’re fighting like hell to regain and keep.

He’d called to taunt you, to remind you that he was moving on, happy. Flaunted it in your face by talking about their upcoming wedding. The wedding you did have, only bigger, better, with even more flowers and the best money could buy.

You felt pathetic, irritated that you’d had no confident words to spew at him for his games, and you’re embarrassed by the fact that you’d cried after hanging up the phone. Halfway through another sentence comparing you to Lizzie, and you’d had enough, pulling the phone away and slamming the End Call button as hard as you could. It wasn’t very satisfactory - the effect lost on the development of touchscreen phones.

As you sit by the lake, wind rustling the trees and your hair, blowing it around your face, you allow yourself some small victory - you hung up on him, stopped his attempts to bait you in their tracks, regained some control. It’s a small step, but a step forward all the same, and that little bit of optimism, sun through the clouds, brings a small smile to your dampened face.

Your therapist will be proud when you tell her, admit how much relief you feel just from the minute act of hanging up the phone. Eventually, you’re sure, you’ll stop picking up if or when he calls again to torment you. You can take back control.

Fall’s approaching. There’s a sharpness to the air now that signals the approaching end of summer, and some of the maple trees have begun to turn bronze. Alaska is pretty like this - one season fading into another and for a minute, you don’t ever want to leave. But then you remember that you should find a job, stop living off of Shawn’s money despite the alimony you’re sure to receive. Maybe you’ll settle some place like Alaska, open and free, without the constraints of a city. Somewhere there’s fresh air, but still society close enough should you need human interaction.

For now, you let yourself absorb what the wilderness has to offer.

Until your quiet reverie is interrupted by frantic barking some time later. You know only one person with a dog within living distance of you, and despite your instincts to brush it off, you’re overcome with the need to investigate.

Natalia finds you first, dark fur standing out against the green of the forest foliage. She winds herself around your feet, nips gently at your pant legs, grabs hold of your sleeve and tugs.

“What is it, girl?” you ask, and she barks again as she lets you go, tears off into the trees.

Without question you follow her, dodging in and out. She doubles back a few times, makes sure you’re still behind her. She leads you past the path back to your cabin, past the waterfall where you first met Bucky.

Bucky.

Oh god, what if something bad has happened? Unbidden, your heart clenches tight in your chest, cuts off your air as you run to keep pace with Natalia. You’re not even sure why - you hardly know Bucky but you’re worried regardless.

You nearly eat dirt and leaves as your foot catches on a raised root, but you quickly find your balance and push on. Breath coming harshly, you stomp down the painful stitch in your side.

Natalia dashes up the steps to a cabin similar to yours, though smaller. Quainter. The front door is open, leading you to believe she’d forced it open in an effort to find help. Or Bucky just left his front door open for the hell of it. Either way, you don’t think twice about running inside.

The lights are off, and despite the sunlight, you can hardly see a thing. Natalia’s nails click on the floor as she runs down the hall, barks three times from another room, and you do your best to follow it, feel your way across the cabin’s small space, stub your toe on a corner of a wall. Grimacing, you skim your hand along the wall until it meets the wood of a door frame.

“Bucky?” you call into the room, where you can hear Natalia panting and whining lowly. You squint in the dull lighting, barely making out a shape hunched on the floor beside the bed.

“‘M here,” he answers, voice low and monotone - empty. It twists your heart painfully, face tugging into a look of concern, and you approach slowly.

“Are you okay? Natalia found me…” you offer by way of explanation. In the dark, you see Bucky duck his head, hear his heavy sigh.

“I’m...I’m okay. You don’t have to worry.”

Lips pursing at that, you lower slowly to your knees in front of him. His eyes glitter in the dark where they’re focused on his knees, bent and hugged to his chest. Carefully you lay a hand on his arm, and you feel his body go rigid. Beneath your palm, his forearm is hard and unyielding. He shifts it out from under you, tucking it close to his body, shielding it, lets your hand drop to his knee.

“Bucky, what happened? Why are you in the dark?” Your voice feels loud in the still silence, against the quiet breaths of the man in front of you. Breaths when you really listen to them, quicken, shorten. Your fingers curl into his knee. “Hey, Bucky, you’re okay. Deep breaths okay?”

His breathing slows again, and you can feel him relax a little. Piece by piece, inch by inch, he unfurls his body until he’s a little more open, a little more spread out. You sit back on your heels, give him a little more room.

“S-Sorry,” he whispers, and in the dimness you see him drag a hand down his face.

“It’s okay.” He moves as you speak, rises to his feet to flick on the bedside lamp. Soft orange throws deep blue shadows across his walls, and you forego examining his room to scrutinize him instead.

He looks...rough. Deep circles under his eyes, a haunted look within them that you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. His hands are buried in his sweatshirt pocket, shoulders hunched in a way that suggests he’s trying to hide. You stand as well, rethink reaching out for him. You don’t know him that well, despite the way his obvious struggle tugs at your heart.

“Can I make you some tea? Or fix you a drink?”

Bucky looks like he’s ready to decline, mouth opening to do so as the wall goes up behind his eyes, but he closes it. Nods, just once. Follows you out into the living room, flicking on the lights as he goes. The inside of his home is no surprise to you - mostly empty, save for a couple personal trinkets here and there. Otherwise, no decor on the walls, a tattered rug in front of the fireplace, no other signs that this is his home.

It saddens you for reasons you’re unsure of, but you let it go for now and busy yourself with filling the kettle. Bucky takes down two mugs and then reaches above the fridge, takes down a bottle of amber liquor that’s about a quarter full. He upends it into his mug, takes a long sip of it and avoids your curious gaze.

When the kettle whistles, you fill both mugs, regardless of the alcohol still in Bucky’s. He drops a tea bag into it and lets it steep, gestures to the living room where a ratty couch sits. You sit at the far end, opt to give Bucky some space to clear his head, but to your surprise he sits close to you, close enough that his thigh brushes yours.

“‘M sorry you had to see that. That Natalia bothered you,” he says gruffly after some time. The dog looks up at the sound of her name, tilting her head curiously.

You shake yours, fingers warm from your mug of tea. “She didn’t. I’m actually...glad she found me. She seemed really riled up.”

His smile is tight, uncomfortable, and he shifts on the couch. “She’s really in tune to my….to me.”

It isn’t the whole truth, but you don’t push. Sip from your tea and busy yourself by looking around the room. Now that you’re not overcome with worry for Bucky, you can look a little more closely. The fireplace is covered in soot, a half-burnt log inside it. The paint is chipping in places on the wall above the mantel.

In the center of it is a single photograph. You can’t make out the faces too clearly, but there are four of them in the photo - three men, one woman. You avert your eyes lest you stare too long, but Bucky’s noticed. His shoulders are stiff and there’s a pinch to his lips as he stares hard at the photograph. Awkwardly you sit and drink your tea until the mug is empty.

You ask before you can think about it: “Why were you sitting in the dark?”

Bucky’s breathing hitches, and you grimace, an apology on your tongue. But before you can utter it, he simply says, “I get panic attacks. I had a bad one and...and that’s why Natalia found you.”

Again, he keeps it short, speaking quickly - there’s more he isn’t telling you, but you daren’t push. He’s still skittish, erratic, eyes bouncing around the apartment only to settle on that photograph again for a moment. It clearly holds significance for him, if the way his eyes strain just slightly when he focuses on it, the shadow that seems to pass over his face.

It spreads throughout the room, darkening it despite the lights he’d turned on earlier. Obviously his mood is souring again, and you feel awkward, your skin itching with the urge to get away - back to your cabin where you can fret and overthink in peace. The phone call with Shawn left you on edge, a raw nerve ripe for irritation, and Bucky’s stony, less-than-pleasant demeanor is rapidly putting you off.

He must sense your rising panic, because he looks over at you, the tension in his face softening just a bit to something more somber, something sadder.

“I’m sorry I’m making you uncomfortable,” he utters, taking you mildly by surprise. He rubs at his forehead and drops his eyes - a truly pitiful look rife with self-loathing. It breaks your heart.

“N-No,” you argue, and he gives you a skeptical look. “I understand. I understand really well actually. Um, my, um...my ex...he called me, after you left yesterday. It, uh, it threw me for a bit of a loop. My head’s a little all over the place.”

It’s the most you’ve ever given him about your history, about your struggle, and you can see his face softening, an invitation for you to open up more. But your tongue feels heavy enough after giving even as little information as you have, and you stay quiet, pick at a seam in your jeans idly.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, but this time he isn’t talking about his panic attack or pulling you from whatever you’d been doing. He’s apologizing that your ex still seems to have a hold over you.

If only he knew.

He could, a small, quiet voice chirps in the back of your head. Its presence stills you as Bucky’s gaze burns the side of your face while he watches you. He could if you let him in.

God, how you want to. Despite the terror you feel at getting close to another person, you feel that tug in your heart - the one you felt for Shawn when you first met him. The desire to experience that intimacy with another person, it both thrills you and frightens you. Frightens you so badly you still feel that urge to run.

“I’m okay, if you’d like to leave,” Bucky says, and he says it with a gentle smile. His eyes, though, are tinged with sadness at the thought of you leaving - and you don’t know what to do. He knows you’re uncomfortable and he’s giving you an out.

Do you really want to take it?

Sensing your struggle, Bucky stands up, extends a hand. “How about a walk? Fresh air might do us both some good.”

You eye his hand warily, flickering between it and his face - open, completely readable. He wants you to say yes, but he won’t make you.

That flutter in your heart again at his patience, it’s all the resolve you need.

You take his hand.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #the wilds #lumberjack!bucky #bucky au #lumberjack au #bucky barnes angst

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aceofspadegrass · 3 years

Note

Hey hey hey! Haven't been requesting for quiet a while.

Remember the chishiya kitty and Niragi kitty ya know pre-border kitties!

Yeah can I have a part 2 where *inhales* NIJIRO CAN'T FIND A HOME FOR THE BOTH OF THE KITTIES SO HE ADOPTED CHISHIYA WHILE DORI ADOPTED NIRAGI AND THEY BOTH TAKE THE BOTH OF THEM TO WORK IN THEIR STUDIO WHILE FILMING (yes fanta is there too, and the other doggies) AND WHEN IT WAS TIME FOR DORI TO SHOOT THE FLASHBACK SCENE WHERE NIRAGI GETS...ya know..I AM SAD OF THAT SCENE OKAY!? HE GOT BRUISES AND ALL-

and after that scene Dori comes looking for kitty Niragi and saw the kitten all shaking beneath the black chair that say's the word 'NIRAGI' in the back, ya know those chairs right? (Fanta is there right next to the kitten licking it's head in reassurance what good pupper! He is trained so well-)

The rest is up to you!

Pre-BorderKitties, Now with a Baseball

Characters: Sakurada Dori, Murakami Nijiro, Yanagi Shuntaro (Mentioned), Niragi Suguru (Technically), Chishiya Shuntaro (Technically and also only mentioned)

Genre: Fluff with a little angst. Just a tad. Poor kitty Niragi, he saw baseball season.

1.5k words

Well here you go buddy! It was fun to write, but poor kitty Niragi, he saw something he wasn't supposed to. I like to imagine Niragi later got to hang out at the 'Beach' in a separate room as they filmed the rest, without seeing the fate of his owner wearing the future human version of him. ✨

(Also I'm reusing the liner from the other one because it's nice.)

The next few days turned into weeks, much longer than the either were expecting.

Murakami came by every day to help Sakurada with the kittens faithfully, as he promised. Since then, the kittens have warmed up a little to them, and by the end of the month they ended up adopting a kitten each. Murakami thought it would be more funnier to take the cat after their character, so now Sakurada had a little dark grey kitten as well as his precious dog. Niragi was still pretty much the same as he was the first day Sakurada met him, skittish and wary of everything, but now a little more willing to cuddle next to Sakurada.

Today was filming day for Alice in Borderland, Sakurada driving over to the site where they were filming one of the scenes, Fanta happily chilling in the backseat with Niragi sitting next to the pupper, the both safely fastened to the car so they couldn’t get thrown around if something happened. Fanta was using a leash while Niragi was just huddled in a little cloth that was attached to a smaller strap, but it was effective enough.

Sakurada parks by the rest of the cars and gets out, opening the door and releasing his pets from the car, Fanta hopping down to walk besides Sakurada. Niragi was carried out instead, the three heading over to where the others where, Sakurada waving at the others there as he passed by and went to the dressing trailer they set up. Later on in the day they’d be shooting the other parts of the Beach episodes, and he didn’t need to be staying in his Pre-Borderland outfit for that long, so it was just a quick change here instead of coming already dressed. He spots Murakami not that far away, the man there despite not filming any scenes until much later in the day, Chishiya cradled in his arms and apparently sleeping.

“ Hi Sakurada!” Murakami waves to Sakurada from a distance, then comes closer and bows properly. “ Good luck during filming today!”

“ Thanks Murakami. What are you doing here?” Sakurada asked, Murakami smiling at him as he straightens up, Chishiya still fast asleep despite the brief squishing he just endured.

“ Well, I just came by to watch! That and I heard you were bringing your pets to work, so I wanted to see them too!” Murakami chirps, Sakurada chuckling. He gestures to Fanta, who was still by his feet, Murakami bending down and petting the pupper. Fanta gives a soft bark and wags his little tail, happy to be getting attention without having to do much. Murakami stands up again and waves to Niragi as well, who was curled up in Sakurada’s arm.

“ Well, I better get going now. Talk to you later!”

“ Okay, I will!”

Sakurada goes to gets dressed and heads out once he finished, placing kitty Niragi down on the chair with his name on it. The kitten mews up at him the moment Niragi left Sakurada’s warm hands. Sakurada smiles at Niragi and gently pets the kitten, which earns him the tiniest of purrs and a loafed bean when he lifts his hand up. “ You stay here and rest for a bit, okay Niragi? I need to go work for a little bit~”

Niragi only stays here and watches as Sakurada heads towards the bridge where the scene would be, not far from where everything else was. Sakurada could see Fanta happily playing with Yanagi’s dog Merry not that far away. Sakurada appreciated that Yanagi came by just to hang out with Fanta once he heard that Sakurada was taking his dog to the site so that when they were released until later on they could just hang out and do normal people things. Maybe they could walk the dogs together, that’d be fun.

The scene itself was thankfully taken within a few shots so Sakurada didn’t have to worry about any real bruising on his beautiful face. The hits weren’t as hard as it looked, they made sure to use softballs and not apply as much pressure as it was depicted to prevent any real damage, but the acting (and extra makeup they applied to make it more realistic) still had to make it seem they were the real deal. Sakurada congratulated everyone for the good job, the others even coming over to check to assure he was perfectly alright before they broke for a break and moved locations to film some more scenes at the ‘Beach’ indoors, the nighttime outdoor scenes taking much later in the day.

Sakurada heads back to the break area, but pauses when he notices something wrong, Murakami wandering around with worry on his face.

“ Murakami? Murakami, what’s wrong?” Sakurada jogged over to his friend, Murakami looking up at Sakurada.

“ I can’t find Niragi.” “ Huh? What do you mean?”

Murakami looks at the ground, eyes flicking around to try to spot the kitten. “ Well, I thought it’d be a good idea to let the kitten roam around a little, under my supervision on course! So I took him off the chair you left him on. But….”

Sakurada raised an eyebrow as he waited for Murakami to finish, although panic was already seeping into his bones. “ But…?”

“ Well, I think Niragi saw you guys acting out that scene, and he suddenly ran off. I don’t know where he went. Goodness, I hope he didn’t run far…”

Sakurada frowns, then nods. “ Let’s look for him. Go see if Yanagi spotted him too.”

Murakami nods in return, and they part, Sakurada looking around to see if he could find the skittish kitten, including underneath places a kitten could’ve been. He shouldn’t have ran far, but since this was a fairly open area…. Sakurada shivered at the thought of what could happen. He even called out the kitten’s name a few times and asked the others if they saw where Niragi had scampered off too, but no results.

Sakurada was about ready to start looking outside the area where they had all been in when he felt paws against his shoe. Sakurada looks down to Merry, who barks and runs off almost immediately, Sakurada following after the dog.

“ What is it Merry?” Sakurada asked, the pupper stopping in front of the black chair where he last had left the kitten. “ Wait, is he….?” Merry barks in response and wags her tail, the trots off after apparently having completing the mission the dog set out to do.

Sakurada lets out a small chuckle at the dog’s antics, then finally checks underneath the chair, finally getting his prize of finding his kitten. Niragi was curled up right underneath the shade of the chair, easily fading into the shadows with how dark and small he was. Sakurada reaches out for the kitten, and the moment his fingers grazed the kitten he felt the poor thing shaking, and a short mew erupted from Niragi, full of fear. Sakurada instantly started hushing the heightened kitten, staying still and reassuring Niragi that he was alright..

“ Oh, did I scare you? I’m sorry Niragi, I didn’t mean to. I’m alright, see? Nothing’s gonna hurt you either you little vanilla bean, oh I’m so sorry if that scared you….” Sakurada says in a soft tone, the kitten mewing again while he continued to shake, fur puffed up all over and resembling a dust bunny.

The sad mews seemed to have caught Fanta’s attention as well, the dog padding over and laying next to Niragi, licking the kitten as if he knew the best way to calm a crying bean.

The two laid there underneath the chair comforting the kitten for a while, and while others did come by to see if everything was okay, Sakurada always politely sent them on their way to reduce Niragi’s stress. Eventually he could scoop the kitten up, getting into a sitting position as the kitten trembled against his chest, a paw moving to press against his chest, which was still in the school uniform he was supposed to wear.

“ It’s alright now Niragi, I’m here. I’m here.” Sakurada continued to soothe, cradling the kitten as he heads to the trailer. After all, he still needed to change out and get the makeup wiped off so he could head to the other location for more filming.

Afterwards, he gets up and heads to his car, grabbing the little cloth pouch with the strap. Thankfully, it also functioned as a sort of carrier, Sakurada tying it around himself and settling the kitten to rest within, right up to his heart so the kitten could listen to his perfectly alright heart. Within seconds the kitten began to quietly purr, curling up safely in the comfort of Sakurada. Sakurada nods in satisfaction, and he heads to where Yanagi was, the man offering the extra leash he brought so they could walk their dogs together, Sakurada quickly thanking him. He calls his dog over, Fanta trotting over and letting Sakurada clip the leash to him. Hopefully Fanta would walk for a fair distance, knowing how much more he preferred to just flop and become a fried dumpling instead, the two setting off for a nice brisk walk until they had to head down for the rest of filming.

Niragi, at the very least, was safe and comfortable, the best way Sakurada preferred him to be after that harrowing experience for the kitten.

#aib #alice in borderland #sakurada dori #murakami nijiro #yanagi shuntaro #chishiya shuntaro #niragi suguru #pre niragi kitty is trying his best to interact but people spooky~#poor baby saw his owner get smacked as his human version :(#also kitty chishiya is just sleeping because he simply isn't bothered #good thing kitty niragi didn't run off too far that'd be disasterous #i haven't the slightest of clue of the order they filmed everything so i made it as i went #maybe kitty niragi learns the gremlin behaviour from watching sakurada play as niragi at the beach :0 such a smart kitty #fanta is so precious~#so is merry :D #ask

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abizarreyodelingincident · 4 years

Text

Linked Universe: Our Nightly Confidant 1

Wind From Home

Twilight considers himself a simple man. A farmer at heart, even if he has the hands of a hero. He's grown in a small village, where everyone knows everything about everyone else. Community is a sense that's been cultivated in him as well as pumpkins on a sky island (whatever that saying means).

He loves his brothers and his sort of dad. This quest... he doesn't want to say it's a blessing. It isn't. The monsters threaten many. Their group hasn't always saved everyone. It's no blessing that hurts so many. But he can't help rejoice the opportunity to meet so many heroes. To find his place in the legacy of the Hero of Courage.

As a Hylian from a human village, he's never worried about his place, but he does find peace in belonging to a group with no such innate distance.

He's one of the oldests, weird as that is. Most of the group are like little siblings to him. Weird, insane and irreverent little shits that give him grey hair. No, he's not thinking exclusively about Wild (Wild's a special case). He's attuned to their moods.

Four asked if he had a special sense for this, the second time he'd done it. A 'special' sense, he had insisted in the middle of their training camp, meaning wolf senses. No. Twilight doesn't feel one side of him bleeds into the other. It's not like that.

It's not what makes his eyes trail after Wind today. His youngest brother (barely losing to Colin by a season) is currently laughing his ass off on a tree stump over Warriors tripping on Legend's items. It is denied, not very convincingly, that the items weren't left there on purpose. Little shits, he's telling you.

The truth is more down to earth, the way Twilight likes it. Dogs train themselves to recognize hylian expressions. They know what sadness and joy and anger look like all too well. They know when to cheer their big two-legged friends. And a wolf? Well, a wolf better learn fast the difference between a real smile and a fake if it doesn't want to end up stuck in a bear trap.

***

First watch is always a bit nerve wracking. Unlike second and third watch, Twilight can't just shift into wolf form to sniff out enemies and make sure the whole forest is secure. Links don't fall asleep easily. Legend wakes up at the slightest noise for the first two hours he looks asleep. Time might just stare at the sky the whole night, not getting a wink of sleep. Sometimes, Twilight himself just... can't stop thinking. Wondering where she is now. If she's alright. If Ordon's safe without him. Once in a while, he'll close his eyes and hear Lumi crying, and Uli's quiet steps to shush her.

The other half of the time, it's staying asleep that's the problem. The Goddesses know they all have plenty of material to fuel their nightmares (he's never forgetting Yeta's face, he's resigned to that).

When the moon's path has almost reached its zenith, Twilight hears the first few moans. His heart drops. He hoped. But he's not surprised. Sometimes, the heart can't take the weight of the mask people plaster on.

It starts small. It always does.

For a time, it's mostly sniffles and choked sobs. Then a small 'I'm sorry.' Twilight grimaces. None of them show their scar easily. The deep scars, at least. Wind wouldn't appreciate an audience. Unfortunately, Twilight can't exactly leave. The next best thing however is to try and cut it short.

So, decision made, he creeps around camp, places himself behind Wind and shakes his shoulder. (Carefully. The group collectively learned not to take sleeping Links lightly. At least, Sky had laughed out the black eye with grace.)

“Hey, Sailor,” he whispers, hoping none of the others react. “It's your turn.”

In truth, it's a touch early for that. But he knows he made the right call when Wind rubs his eyes and freezes at the wet feeling on his fingers. He'd been in the middle of turning around, but he immediately fakes a stumble and buries his face in his rolled up blankets instead. It's a good cover to wipe tears without being too obvious.

Twilight would be impressed if that didn't send pangs of worry through his chest. Oh, Wind...

“Mrm,” Wind mumbles. “One minute?”

“Sure, I gotta take a leak anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, piss off.” Wind waves him off from under the blanket.

Twilight smiles to himself. He should ask Wind to direct a play next time they visit his Hyrule. Queen Zelda was always in need of entertainment for the stuffy dignitaries. Jackasses couldn't crack a smile if they were whipped.

That faint irritation pushes him toward the end of the camp line, out of the clearing. Once he's out of sight and hearing range, he grabs onto his cursed necklace and sneaks through the underbrush. His senses make navigating through the twigs and branches child's play, and the lack of any pig-like stench reassures him that there's no malice-infected monster around. In less than a minute, he has circled around the camp and positioned himself the near opposite of where his hylian form left through. Generally, people don't make the association if he leaves a few minutes tick by. Out of sight, out of mind.

It's a bit embarrassing how well that trick works.

Wind's head is turned in the direction he disappeared earlier. Skittish, like a rabbit looking out of its hole. Wind must be waiting for him to return from his manly business, which is a bit of a lost bet at the moment. Seconds tick with only the faint brushing of leaves on his fur and the nightly wind for company. Then, all at once, Wind stands up and stomps his way to the stump Twilight had been using for his turn at the watch.

“Damn it!” Wind curses under his breath. The tears are held at bay, barely. “There's no way he didn't see... calm down, calm down dammit, he's gonna come back soon!”

A small boot kicks off some dirt. Twilight flinches in his hiding spot. That's more anger than expected. He's not sure what to do with that. None of them like vulnerability. None of them are used to being allowed vulnerability. He's worked on Wild and Time for a while now, and he's making progress, even if it's only them opening up to him.

It's that same instinct that pushes him to walk through the bush and reveal himself. He's as non-threatening as a large wolf can be, but Wind still whirls around with his sword drawn. Recognition is a second slower.

“Wolfie!” Wind whisper-yells. “Bad dog! I almost skewered you!”

Twilight raises one eyebrow, unimpressed. He is most certainly not a bad dog, and he is quite experienced at dodging last second hits by flailing, surprised preys. Not that he even thought of Wind as prey, never, but Wind didn't have to imply he'd be that stupid.

“Oi, what are you looking at?” Wind grumbles, dropping back on his tree stump. “Stupid dog...”

Twilight fights the urge to growl. He's here to help, not pick a fight. Unfortunately, his struggle had been obvious, because Wind deflates and sheaths his sword.

“Sorry. It's just... I'd been doing so well so far,” he whispers. “Even if they're big mother cuccos about me sometimes, they still listened to me.”

Twilight feels his tail curl between his legs. He knows he's overprotective. He knows it's annoying Wind, but he can't help it when every other time they fight, he sees Colin rushing into the path of King Bulblin.

“Hey, hey, don't be sad.” Wind cajoles, patting his knee like an invitation.

Twilight's too happy to question the change. He plops his chin on Wind knees and looks up. Small, calloused hands run into his fur.

“Do you have family, Wolfie?”

… What? For a second, he slips out of grasp just to better stare at Wind. Then, he sniffs his breath for a second, and whilst there's a fair amount of onions there (dental hygiene, Sailor!), no traces of booze anywhere. So, he softly woofs, tilting his head to the side.

“Do you have a she-wolf and a litter of little pups that trip all over themselves? I bet you're a good dad, aren't you?”

Twilight can't help the shocked whine that burst out of his throat, nor the flattened ears on top of his head. Him? A dad? He was far too young for that! Being a brother to Wild alone was trouble enough as it was, fatherhood remained firmly beyond his grasp. Besides... it wasn't like he had someone with whom...

“Aww,” Wind cooed, scratching behind his ears, “I didn't want to scare you, Wolfie. I just thought you take good care of us, s'all. I bet you'll be a good dad someday.”

Flattered as he is, he can't help puff and huff into Wind's shirt. He's a noble beast, talked down to like a lap dog. At least, he successfully distracted Wind from what nightmare he had.

Together, they listened to the crackling embers, moving only when the flames needed another log or when a critter stumbled too close to camp (a very curious rat that scampered when it met Twilight's eyes).

“How much did he drink?” Wind mutters, a bit later. “Did he pass out with his breeches down?”

A low growl rumbles into his chest. The disadvantage of others not knowing he's Wolfie is hearing that kind of crap about himself. He's a misunderstood man condemned by the judgemental Links of the world.

“What? Don't like him? Twilight's okay. Most of the time. Like, he saw me cry. I know he did. He knows I know, but he still pretended not to... you know?”

Twilight's best deadpan glare expresses that yes, he knows. More importantly, he puts a paw on Wind's chest, making a small inquisitive noise. Why? Did he need to share it with a very innocent wolf that doesn't judge anyone and anything except Warriors' morning hair?

The fragile grin on Wind's face falters. His eyes dart around. “I... it's not like... You won't laugh, right?”

Twilight nods emphatically.

“It's nothing too bad. I just miss my sister and my grandma.”

Oh, Wind...

“... Please don't tell the others,” Wind said in a tiny voice. “They already have a hard enough time taking me seriously. I don't want them to think I'm being a baby who cries about his family.”

The confusion can't overtake the lance of shame and heartbreak that spears through Twilight's body. Had... had they pushed Wind into this? Made him think that because they hide their tears, they'd laugh at his?! Goddesses... Uli would smack him with her wooden spoon for making a mess like this.

Again.

He might have been a bit overbearing once his quest had ended. Colin had been happy about the attention... the first three days or so. Afterward... well... Uli and Rusl had taken him aside, put their feet down and helped him let go of his dead grip on his little brother's safety. And half the monsters he'd faced had nothing on the challenge of letting Colin make his own mistake. He thought he'd gotten better about this.

But he might have forgotten Wind was not nearly as tolerant or hesitant as Colin.

“I'm a Hero too. I'm strong. Why would I cry over nothing? My grandma and my sister are fine. I bet we'll be portaled in my Hyrule soon and I'll have worried for nothing and Twilight and Warriors will be right to treat me like a fragile little boy again.”

He's not. They all know he's not. He's just... the youngest. The most cheerful, most innocent, most... most well-adjusted of them all, and they want so badly for Wind to keep that. He's a wonderful young man. They're all so proud, so impressed with him.

He's gonna have a few conversations with Warriors and Time tomorrow. Goddesses!

“Hey, Wolfie... I know you don't like being around too long, but... Do you mind staying a bit?”

Twilight chuffs, stubbornly burying his face even deeper in his little brother's shoulder. As if someone would be able to pry him off Wind before morning.

***

“Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?”

Wind looks up sharply, startled but unwilling to admit it. He'd been polishing that long view of his by himself. “What?” he says, and there's an implied 'the fuck?!' in there. Pirates...

Twilight brushes the grass and then sits on the hill, staring past the coast at the red sun. “My father told me that, the day before I left on my quest. Neither of us knew then I'd have a quest soon, of course. But it stuck with me.”

For a long time, Wind's expression shifted between fascination, embarrassment and a bit of confusion. Twilight really needed to teach him how to maintain a poker face before he played cards with Warriors again. Still, there's no rush.

For all that it tears him in half, dusk also has a way to sooth his old aches. It's a peaceful time. A moment when the day dies, when the living settle and close their doors.

“It's the horizon, for me,” Wind admits. “When I... the first time, I'd never ever left my island, and all of a sudden, I had to leave because that huge ass bird had kidnapped my sister. So I had to leave my home for the first time, and I was on Tetra's boat, staring at Outset Island shrinking and shrinking till it was gone. Even when I pulled out my sister's long view, all I could find was the waves of the Great Sea.”

“Ah, a boar and a bulblin got my brother, my childhood friend and a bunch of kids. Knocked me right out with a hit to the head.”

Wind pulled his lips together and narrowed his eyes. “Well... I didn't get hit or anything, but Tetra threw me out of a cannon so I could infiltrate the fortress. Hit my face pretty hard too. That counts?”

“It wasn't a competition!” Twilight laughs, ruffling Wind's hair. It causes a flinch, and that's the light-hearted mood gone. Great. Twilight breathes through his nose. “You know, sometimes, I really want to smack my dad upside the head.”

Wind blinks. “... Okay?”

“Every goshdarn time I see the sun set, I remember him and my mom and my brother and sister, and... home. Every sunset reminds me of home. Makes me miss it so bad. Now I can't help feel that strange sadness every time.”

Silence.

A snort.

“Goddesses damned!” Wind wheezes out through his laugh. “He...”

“Yup,” Twilight says, leaning his chin on his fist. “He didn't think that one through. Bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, ain't it? So, I do want to make him think before he spouts philosophy at me.”

“Hey, hey, Twilight!” Wind says, impish, tugging on his sleeves. Then, the second he has Twilight's attention, he puts on the most serious face he ever wore. “Do you ever feel a strange sadness... as you put on your pants?”

“You little shit,” he says, brimming with affection.

Wind, not to be undone, jumps to his feet. “Do you ever feel a strange sadness... as you drink milk?”

“Oi,” Twilight stands after him, darting right after the brat.

“Not the strange sadness of being chased by a goatherd!”

Two minutes. Two minutes and six variations of the most profound saying his farmer dad told him. Butchered. Butchered like a lame goat in winter. Twilight is both furious and delighted and it might be why, when he does catch Wind, he unleashes the noogie from hell.

Wind's screams, so closely related to that of a dying piglet, are very satisfying. Worth the kicks to the ribs.

And when retribution is served, Twilight shifts the hold into a one-sided hug with the smooth grace of a man who regularly pretends not to be the wolf that is never seen with him. Wind freezes, realization sharp on his face when he notices the tears gathering in Twilight's eyes.

“But the first thing I'd do if I saw him tomorrow... is hug him. Tell him I'm glad he's okay and that I missed him. Then I'd smack him and run for the hills, because Rusl happens to be the only guy in my village that knows how to use a sword.”

After a whole body shudder, Wind gives up and buries himself in his big brother's shoulder.

#Linked Universe #Linkeduniverse #LU Twilight #LU Wind #Wolf Link

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tae-cup · 4 years

Text

Down With The Ship | Two

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female!Reader

Summary: Captain Jeon Jungkook; a beautiful mess of blood and gold. His greatest treasure, may also be his greatest downfall.

Genre: Pirate!au

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, nothing explicit, violence?, Blood, Guns, pirates being pirates

Rating: T for Teens

A/N: I’m sorry to the entire crew of bangtan, but most importantly Jungkook and Taehyung. Thank you and goodnight. This chapter is all backstory and nothing else.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

Word Count: 9.2k Words

Other: Masterlist

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The 18 year old looked out over the deck washed in blood. The putrid smell of rotting fish and burning flesh tinged the air. He didn’t gag. The smell was commonplace to him. He gripped the railing, watching as the last of his old crew was thrown overboard, bound and gagged. Then he turned to the old captain.

“Do you enjoy watching your own crew being tied and thrown overboard?” He asked the older man. “Because you certainly had no qualms about it a few moments ago. I am in control, now.” He surveyed the tear streaked face of the man. Then he laughed a cold, merciless, laugh. “Goodbye, sir.”

He planted his foot on the old man’s back and kicked him off the ship. The new captain’s first mate turned to him.

“What should we do now, Namjoon?” The man asked. Namjoon’s eyes looked over the blood as passively as his counterpart. Then he turned to his new captain.

“I think we have some cleaning up to do, Jungkook.”

Captain Rogers was not a kind man and most certainly not to any cabin boy who was to be his glorified slave.

“Jeon!” The captain barked to the 12 year old. The young boy had learned to be silent, to let his rage simmer and harden, for the past 2 years.

“Yes, sir?” Jungkook straightened his back, wide eyes giving him an innocent look. The kind of look that made Captain Rogers pissed off.

“Go clean the galley.”

Jungkook nodded and turned to leave, instantly regretting the decision. The captain leered over the desk and grabbed his wrist tight enough to leave bruises. The child didn’t even flinch.

“What do you say?”

“Yes, sir.” He said, his voice unwavering.

“Good boy. Now go pull your weight, you should be lucky that I even took you in. Especially after your parents tried to run, isn’t that right?” The captain let out a loud laugh. “You should be thankful I spared your pitiful life. Now show some respect.”

“Yes, sir.” The heat of rage flamed up again, but Jungkook remained silent.

He scrubbed the deck and the galley, then he went ahead and made everyone lunch. No one thanked him, but it was alright, he never expected it. His hair was light brown after spending days in the sun. Jungkook kept his eyes down as a crew member was thrown overboard, the splash, his life, a mere ripple in the tide as the ship carried on.

He was quiet in his work, never complaining, never protesting. Jungkook never really believed he was lower than anyone else. He still held onto the hope that one day he could be acknowledged.

The boy spent another year, and then another, bending to every whim of Captain Rogers. His back was scarred, his wrists a permanent shade of purple, his nerves keeping him awake until early in the morning. Then he’d get up, work, and do it all over again.

Yes, it weighed on him, yes, the passing time felt like a death sentence, but he forged onward. At first he just planned on escaping, disappearing one night while the crew was docked, but it never felt like the right time. Being on the crew, he was now a wanted man. He would never be able to live a normal life, and maybe that was his curse.

He could stage a mutiny. He sat upright in bed, bumping his head on the ceiling as he was on the top bunk. Is it possible? Jungkook was just one boy and he had no friends on the ship. Everyone he’d originally met were now thrown overboard, dead, or long gone. He had been on the ship the longest and he knew the least amount of people. His only home was the ship, his only family was Captain Rogers. So how could he stage a mutiny? He had no one.

His 18th birthday was spent without much fanfare. He got a big clap on the back by the captain and a couple muttered ‘happy birthdays’. Unlike his other birthdays, he was ecstatic. Now he was an adult, he could make the choices he wanted. However, years of training had taught him that his actions would always have consequences. And if he went through with this plan...he would have a lot of consequences.

The ship was docked at Krestleven, a small town that was wealthier than people gave it credit for. Jungkook was given a day of freedom by Captain Rogers, which was the nicest thing he’d done for him in eight years. Nothing could ever really make up for the scars that marked him physically and mentally, but he appreciated it.

A couple kids ran by as he strolled the streets. The man pondered his fate, how the mutiny could work. He needed a right hand man, but the crew was loyal to a fault, even if they were terrified. Jungkook had long given up seeking Captain Rogers’ appreciation.

Someone bumped into him, causing his heart to race and his skin to crawl. The brush of skin on skin causing him to flinch and feel nauseous. He hated that feeling, the touch of another human against him. There was nothing but pain in the touch of other humans.

“Hey man, are you okay?” The man who bumped into him was now standing in front. Jungkook blinked a few times.

“W-what?”

“I asked if you were alright.” The man’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I said sorry for bumping into you but you seemed frazzled and I know I’m clumsy so if you’ve been injured or anything, I can pay for it.” The man rambled on. He had brown hair and hazel eyes, a lean frame and dimples when he smiled.

“No, it’s fine.” Jungkook said. He was always fine. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. My name is Jungkook, today is my birthday.” He said shyly.

“Oh?” The man straightened, letting his dimples show. “I’m Namjoon and happy birthday my good man.” He didn’t reach out to pat Jungkook on the back like he usually would for one’s birthday. He could tell this kid was skittish. “How old are you turning?”

“18.” The younger man mumbled, shuffling his feet.

“Ah, still young.” Namjoon nodded. “I’m 21. Would you like to head out for a drink?”

Jungkook tilted his head at that. Was this man voluntarily asking to hang out with him? Captain Rogers always acted like he was the slime of the Earth, as if no one could want him except the captain. The 18 year old pointed to his chest.

“Me?” He asked in disbelief.

“Of course you!” Namjoon motioned to his left. “Just a little ways that way there’s this great bar. If ya tell ‘em it’s your birthday, you just might get a free pint.” The man winked playfully. Jungkook looked expectantly at the older man before realizing that he was motioning for him to take the first step.

Jungkook had never led anything, never made a name for himself. The first step ignited the passion to be someone other than the cabin boy for Captain Rogers. And the deep rage that had settled to a buzz in his bones now crackled with renewed energy.

He thought back to his life before Captain Rogers. He had always wanted to be a pirate, to sail the sea, and throughout the years, his hope in himself may have diminished, but his love for the sea had not. And how dare Captain Rogers spoil such a beauty for him. Yes, he decided in that moment that Captain Rogers was a blight to the sea, a blight to the shimmering paradise of the blue waves.

Captain Rogers was a man who treated the sea like a conquest instead of journey, a beast instead of an adventure. As he made his way to the bar, he found himself lost in thought.

“So where are you from, Jungkook?” Namjoon stopped him outside of a door.

Warmth flooded through the windows of the tavern, golden light growing brighter as the sun sunk lower. What if he never went back? It was a question he asked himself a lot when he was allowed off the ship. And just like a dog, he always came back.

“I’m not sure anymore.” The man shrugged in response. “My home was pillaged, but I was spared and taken in as the cabin boy.” He said vaguely, skipping over the more gruesome parts. “Been on that ship since I was 10.” He gestured to the tall ship in the distance.

“Ah, I see.” Namjoon opened the door and the two men stepped inside. The older man took the lead and sat at the counter where the barkeep was polishing glasses. “One pint of your best stuff, please.” Namjoon ordered. “And it’s this lad’s 18th birthday.” He patted the man’s back. Jungkook almost choked.

“Happy birthday, man!” The barkeep’s smile put him at ease and he realized how warm total strangers could be.

He passed him a beer, free of charge, and Namjoon was passed a drink. The foam sloshed over the rim every now and then.

The room heated up as more people flooded the bar and the night grew darker. Namjoon and Jungkook found themselves having to shout over the crowd. The younger man kept pulling down his sleeves and Namjoon certainly noticed. But the brown haired male wasn’t one to pry. Jungkook seemed to be a very private man and Namjoon could respect that.

“Ah, you’re so lucky, Jungkook.” Namjoon said, a tired tone to his voice. “I moved here a while ago for a job, but now I wish I could just sail around the world with no cares. Like you.” His eyes twinkled in the glow of the bar.

Jungkook felt his heart racing. It was getting dark and the captain was surely looking for him.

“It’s not all great.” He said, prying himself out of his carefully protected shell. Namjoon put him at ease, made him feel safe in a way the captain could never provide.

“Yeah, it must be tough sometimes, but at least you never have to be in one place for too long.” He shrugged in response. He eyed Jungkook’s wrists as the young man once again pulled down his sleeves.

“You should join us, Captain Rogers is always looking for people and he’s strict, but a good person.” Jungkook blurted.

He was fibbing only a bit, but Namjoon fit perfectly into his plan. He could see him as a good first mate. Of course, he wasn’t sure if he could see himself as a captain, but he supposed that all came with due time.

“You’re strong, I can tell.” He continued. “You’d make a great addition.”

The man thought it over, fingers tapping his glass hesitantly. His gaze flickered to the counter and then back to Jungkook. He scratched the back of his neck.

“I’m not sure, Jungkook. It’s hard to just drop everything and leave.”

“But everything would be provided.” except maybe comfort and security. “We leave tomorrow night, so please think about it.”

“I will.” Namjoon stood, paying what he owed.

Then the two men stepped outside the bar. Jungkook took a deep breath in of the night air. It had cooled significantly and there was a slight chill to the air. The clouds had cleared and the sky was splattered with stars, the moon like a white dot in a swirl of inky black.

He needed to head back to the ship and give himself time to prepare for punishment. It was way past when he should be out. He was an adult now, but old habits die hard.

“Jungkook, wait.” Namjoon stopped the man in his tracks.

The hazel eyed man gingerly reached for the young man’s wrist. He held it up and slowly peeled back the long sleeved top. Jungkook wanted to scream, to pull away, to stop him from revealing his scars. Instead, he stood still and squeezed his eyes shut. Then he heard Namjoon inhale sharply. He carefully rolled back up the younger man’s sleeve and let go. Jungkook dropped his wrist.

“Who did that to you?” The man’s voice was soft, like a gentle tide. “Was it Captain Rogers?” Yes.

“No.” He shook his head quickly, his voice suddenly little more than a squeak. “No, Captain Rogers is a good man, he would never hurt me.”

It was a lie, even he knew it. Why was it his gut reaction to defend this man? Maybe because he was his only home, his only family. Captain Rogers was all he’d ever known. Death and pillaging and blood was all he’d ever known. Yet Namjoon, who stood before him, offered him the knowledge of compassion and kindness; maybe even love.

“If you say so.” The older man clearly didn’t believe him.

Namjoon knew he shouldn’t join whatever mess Jungkook was in, he shouldn’t, but it wasn’t like anything was tying him down to Krestleven. A pale man walked by carrying a few fish traps. His low whistle interrupted the static air between the two men. He looked over at the couple, shrugged, and then moved on.

“Please, Captain Rogers will give you the adventure of a lifetime if you join our crew.” Jungkook tried his best to sound confident.

“I’ll think about it. I’ll meet you at the docks tomorrow morning if I choose to join you. Please, just give me some time.” Namjoon sighed.

He saw himself coming to a crossroad in the woods. One path led him to a stable future, perhaps a family, a simple life. The other held adventure and the future was foggier. He deeply inhaled. The scent of salt and fish, the scent of adventure, hit him. He smiled to himself, having already decided his choice. Still, he needed to get his things together and he had a few hours until morning.

“Goodnight, Jungkook. Rest well and don’t get into too much trouble, alright?” Namjoon bid his new friend farewell.

As Jungkook arrived on the ship, he tiptoed past the captain’s office. He had long since learned the creaks in the floorboards and the right places to stop. He cracked open the door to his bunkroom, being very careful as to not make much noise.

He climbed up to his bunk, only to see another body there. The captain grasped his wrist from his bunk bed. Jungkook resisted the urge to scream. The skin Namjoon had just touched, was now being dirtied by the captain’s dirty hands.

And while he took the beatings, for every one he cursed the captain’s name to the gods and swore vengeance for all the sailors thrown overboard.

Namjoon was an early riser. Well, he didn’t like it, per say, but he was a light sleeper. So when the sun woke up, so did he. He didn’t have much practice being on his toes 24/7, but Jungkook did. The younger man helped him throughout the first month get acclimated to the environment. As a result the older man never saw any beatings to himself. Jungkook taught him the safe practices from the beginning, knowing full well that Namjoon had the capabilities of fleeing at the first sign of distress.

It was almost twice as exhausting to pretend everything was alright. To pretend this was the most idyllic crew you could ever encounter. Jungkook often took Namjoon’s punishments, should it ever befall his beloved friend. Jungkook was a bit too self sacrificing. He would die for any of his crew members, except maybe Captain Rogers.

He saw to it that Namjoon would never have a finger laid on him. If the older man knew this, it would surely damage his pride, so he simply never mentioned it.

The black eye? Oh, just a scuffle he had with another crew member, it was an accident. The bruised arm? Oh, he was just clumsy and bumped into something. The busted lip? The limp? The fingerprints on his neck? Accidents. Simple accidents. And while Jungkook faded, Namjoon began to shine.

One night, he was sneaking back to his bunk when he accidentally bumped into a corner right in the new bruise. He couldn’t help hissing out in pain. The bed next to him moved and Namjoon sat up, being a light sleeper. He rubbed his eyes and blinked a couple times. Jungkook froze, caught.

“Uh, this is just a dream, go back to sleep.” Jungkook said quietly.

“I’m not that stupid, kookie. What are you doing awake?” Namjoon swiped at the drool running down his chin.

“It’s nothing.”

Namjoon crawled out of bed and stood, standing taller than his younger counterpart. “Tell me.”

Jungkook looked away, not meeting his gaze. Then, with a sigh, he rolled up his sleeves. Even in the moonlight, Namjoon could see the dark outlines of bruises.

“Who did this to you?” The man demanded, his voice hushed as to not bother the cabin next door.

The ship creaked uneasily, its swaying rhythm not doing much to quell his thumping heart.

“Captain Rogers.” He said quietly, after having an internal battle. Namjoon’s eyes darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“I knew it.” He said after a while. “But why?”

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

The pieces were clicking together in his mind, gears turning like a well oiled machine.

“Who told you to take beatings for me?” He said furiously. “I know you don’t want me hurt, but do you think I feel any better watching you sacrifice yourself?” He shook the man’s shoulders, not caring about how he flinched.

“It was the right thing to do.” Jungkook tried to reason.

“No it wasn’t.” He crossed his arms. There was a long pause. Namjoon looked the young boy up and down, making note of every scratch, every bruise. He let out a breath, Jungkook’s head hung low in shame. “Now what are you going to do about it?”

The young man’s head whipped up to look at his friend. “What?” He said breathlessly.

“I said, Now what are you going to do about it?”

Jungkook’s heart thumped loudly in his chest, he worried that the whole ship could hear it. The waves were a dull thud outside, a beat that his chest yearned to sing, only held down by the sharp nails and hard fists of Captain Rogers. The anger simmering below was a volcano just waiting to explode. He wanted that man gone.

“We’re going to stage a mutiny.”

The deck was a battlefield. Even the smell of the sea could not mask the pungent smell of blood on wood. Yet, the sight before him did not bother Jungkook. He had seen blood, smelt it, even tasted it. He’s seen war, he’d seen the merciful and the merciless. And he considered himself merciful as he kicked Captain Rogers deep into the sea.

Namjoon stood beside him, the last two souls on the ship. The ship was haunted with memories and Jungkook was sure every inch of it had been covered by his blood at some point in the last eight years.

“Get some rest, we’ll clean up later.” Jungkook waved off a tired looking Namjoon. “Oh and Namjoon?”

“Yes?” The man turned to look at his new captain.

“You’re going to be my first mate.”

“I’m your only ‘mate’.” The older man chuckled before turning and heading back downstairs.

Jungkook then turned to the mess. He wasn’t the cleanest person, but for some reason he felt the urge to scrub the deck. So he did. He scrubbed away every inch of blood splattered on the light oak wood. It didn’t stop it from being stained a deep cherry red.

He longed for his bunk, but instead he went to the right. And there he stood, paused in front of the oak door that held his worst nightmares. The dark haired man pushed down his anxiety. He’s not going to be in there. You just pushed him off the ship. He’s gone. That’s what his mind said, but his body was shaking. He hesitantly opened the door. Ghosts flew past him.

Memories of nails clawing into a locked wooden door, screams no man should make leaving his throat. He trembled, unable to move. The office was the same as it had been a few hours ago and he intended for it to stay that way. He didn’t want to touch Captain Rogers’ things, the idea repulsed him. He took a deep breath. But a little look can’t hurt right? You’ve seen every inch of this room, why not see if you can find another? Jungkook shut his eyes, thinking it over, before taking a step into the room.

He walked around the desk, keeping the door open. The room smelled like the captain; cigarettes and blood. The tall man flipped through the stacks of papers with the confidence of a mouse in a lion’s den. He was the captain now. He looked up, catching himself in the mirror across the desk. His breath hitched. I am in control now. He thought, trying to calm his stomach. All he could see was a spitting image of Captain Rogers.

Captain Jeon Jungkook was 19, working under the guise of a harmless merchant, when he met a mister Park Jimin.

“My boy here is a strong, hardworking, 21 year old man. He would make a fine addition to your crew.” The pudgy man before him smiled.

Jungkook did a good job at pretending he wasn’t as calloused and cold inside as he really was. He often got these propositions, but he didn’t want to put people in unnecessary danger. Once the cover of being a merchant vessel was blown, everyone on the ship would be criminals.

“I’m Park Jimin, but please just call me Jimin, sir.” The blonde haired boy smiled sweetly.

He would never get used to older people referring to him as sir. The word brought up bad memories. Swallowing the distaste in his mouth, Jungkook pulled his lips into a tight smile. Yes, they could always use a helping hand, but this man looked too sweet to be on a pirate ship. He could always be the cabin boy. He shuddered at the thought. He would never put someone through that.

“Why do you want to join my crew?”

“Adventure, sir.” Jimin responded curtly. Then he paused, thinking it over. There was a mountain of thoughts behind the swirl of his eyes. “And freedom. Being a part of a crew brings you freedom.”

Jungkook knew right then that Jimin would fit in perfectly. They had the same ideals, and though he held himself with a rather timid aura, he still held himself up. Now, technically a cabin boy should be younger than him, but Jungkook could make an exception. He was a pirate for god’s sake, what’s a little bend in the rules? Jimin’s father looked like he wanted to stop his son from speaking when Jungkook started.

“Correction, Park,” He said formally. “A crew does not grant you freedom,” He knew this first hand. His crew had been invisible shackles on his skin. “The sea grants you freedom.”

And Jimin smiled, his eyes crinkling in delight. Jimin reminded him of what he could have been, had he not been taken. Would his parents have supported his choice to sail the sea? Would his parents tell him to get some sea legs and journey half way across the world? There were so many questions regarding his parents, holes that would never be filled. The scariest part was that he could barely remember their faces.

He cleared his throat. “Park Jimin, on behalf of my crew and myself, we would like to formally extend an invitation to join us on our journeys. You can study under me as a cabin boy.” He held out his hand.

Jimin took it in his easily and shook. The hands of Park Jimin were soft, uncalloused. He had obviously never worked a day in his life and he overflowed with a childlike innocence that Jungkook would never have again.

The captain covered his eyes, groaning. Open sea had never felt more claustrophobic. Despite having more than enough space for three of them to wander without bumping into each other, the knowledge that they were around was enough to keep him from relaxing.

His mind had been running since Jimin came aboard. The cabin boy had been more than happy to follow around Namjoon like a puppy. Jungkook blamed it on the fact that the older man did not trust the word of his younger crew member as much as Namjoon. Even if he was the captain.

“What’s wrong, captain?” Namjoon leaned over him, blocking the sun. Jungkook squinted up at his old friend.

“Am I going about this wrong?” He sighed.

“Aish, so hard on yourself all the time, Jungkook.” Namjoon moved over to lie next to him on the deck. The young man shut his eyes instinctively as the sun beat down. “What’s on your mind?”

“I mean, I don’t want to end up like him. What if Jimin ends up being scared of me?” He felt his heart sink at the feeling.

He didn’t even know the man that well, but the thought of becoming anything more like the monster he feared made him nauseous. Namjoon released a breath, as if he were tired of the conversation already.

“Then you have to make sure he isn’t.”

Kim Seokjin had trained to be a carpenter for exactly three years. Three years since he’d been pulled off the streets and into the kind arms of a hardworking man. Three years of grueling work where callouses gathered on his hands and grime covered every inch of his body after a day of work. It wasn’t his passion in the beginning, but it was his passion now. It was all he had. He only prayed someone would come around and give him the opportunity to work for them, to sail around the world.

He often spent his time watching the horizon, watching the waves beat back and forth against the rocks. Then one day he spotted a tall ship coming into view. It was thin, meant for speed. It’s sails were completely unrolled, taking advantage of the wind.

Soon enough, a small rowboat was making its way through the water loaded with goods and two people. One had brown hair, the other had pitch black hair. The one with black hair was clearly the captain. He wore all black right down to his boots.

“Achem, is there a Kim Seokjin, here?” The captain spoke.

“I am Kim Seokjin.” Jin squared his shoulders. The captain lit up at this revelation.

“Ah! We’ve been looking for a good boatswain.”

The older man deadpanned. “Sir, I am a carpenter, not a boatswain.”

“You can be both, I won’t tell.” Jungkook pushed his best smile forward, despite how little emotion he felt inside. In fact, the only emotion Jungkook felt lately was blind rage and he really needed a better outlet than ranting to Namjoon for hours.

Jin watched the man with eyes narrowing in suspicion. He clasped his hands together, still unconvinced.

“I suppose you’ll have to look somewhere else.” He tutted, turning to head back up the gravel path to the workshop.

“We can pay you!” The handsome captain called. “We can pay you a lot, but you just have to hang in there.”

Jin scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t look for money. I just want something new.”

“That’s it?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

The Captain was growing restless. His crew was content with sailing around pretending to be merchants. We are merchants, Namjoon would say. But Jungkook had only ever known blood and violence. He felt trapped trying to hide that part of him; the anger he feared would never be sated.

“Seokjin, you ask the simplest of things from a guy like me.” Jungkook said slyly, his demeanor doing a 180.

Though Jungkook cared about his crew far more than Captain Rogers and he would never lay a hand on them, he still wondered if he learned cruelty from the Captain or if it was in his blood. It was unfair how the ghost of Captain Rogers still haunted him.

“You can sail the world with us, just trust me, it won’t be so bad.” He smiled. Jin frowned.

“What could you possibly offer me, merchant?” He eyed the man. The captain was definitely more than a simple merchant. Even Jin could understand that. The older man was having trouble decoding the captain’s true intentions.

“I’m Jungkook. This is my first mate Namjoon.” The captain, Jungkook, introduced. “We have a cabin boy named Jimin back on the ship. We could really use someone like you on our journey.”

Jin sighed and shook his head. “No thank you.”

“Are you sure?” The old carpenter was like a father to Jin. He placed his weathered hand over his apprentice’s.

“I don’t think that life is cut out for me.” The apprentice shrugged in response. “They want a boatswain, not a carpenter.”

“They can be one in the same. Trust me, I know that, boy.” He chuckled, then coughed harshly. Jin furrowed his eyebrows in worry.

“Are you alright, Chung-ho?” He squeezed the old man’s hand.

“Jin, my boy,” Chung-ho coughed again and swallowed. “I am 80 years old. I have lived 50 of those years here, in the same place. The one thing I regret is not following my dream of adventure. I would not wish the same fate to befall you. Take your chance while you can.” The old man often had a youthful attitude, making him forget about his age.

It was moments like these, sitting in his humble abode listening to the creak of the wood, and looking into his aged eyes did he realize how old Chung-ho was growing. But out of all the things he’d seen, this was the first time he saw regret and pain flash across the old man’s face.

“Go.” The man shooed him out the door, handing him a small bag of goods. “Now I won’t have someone to talk my ear off in the morning.” He joked, but Jin knew it held sadness.

Jin softened, letting his lips tug into a smile. Then he drew the sturdy old man into a hug.

“Take care of yourself, I’ll visit you soon.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, lad. Now hurry on.” He chuckled as Jin made his way down the path.

Jungkook and Namjoon waited at the bottom, Jungkook pacing impatiently. They were murmuring back and forth.

“I guess we should get going, Captain.” Jin’s lips parted into a bright smile to mask the tug of his heart at leaving Chung-ho. Three years of living with the old man did something to you.

Jungkook’s face split into a smile that reminded Jin of a bunny. His face looked oddly innocent, but there was something dead behind his eyes.

“I’m going to give it to you straight.” Jungkook clasped his hands together on the table.

Jin had made lunch and being the oldest, he fell into a motherly parental figure role quite easily. He filled a small gap that Jungkook was missing. It put him at ease.

“I want to go back to pirating.” He said, letting his words sink in.

Namjoon was the first to speak, hesitation in his voice. “Are you sure?”

Namjoon and Jungkook had been through a lot together. There were just some things that they didn’t talk about with the others. The things they went through they always explained away vaguely, never going into detail about how they procured the ship or where the other crew went. Jin let his spoon clatter to the floor loudly. The others turned to look at him.

“You want to be pirates? Aish, you kids don’t know what you’re getting yourselves into.” He had this hardened gaze as if he remembered something.

“I know all too well. That’s the thing, pirating is all I’ve ever known and I will never be happy until I can go back to it.” Jungkook tried to reason.

“Have you tried cooking? Or maybe sewing? I’ve heard knitting is gaining popularity.” Jin rambled before frowning. “Pirating ruins lives, it ruined my life.”

There was a long pause. Everyone stared at each other. The captain swallowed thickly and looked away from the intensity of Jin’s gaze.

“Then you can make your life again.” Namjoon said, breaking the silence. “If you become a pirate, wouldn’t that be like a bit of vengeance?”

“I don’t sail for vengeance.” Jin sighed. “Chung-ho would never have liked me to go around terrorizing people.”

“Then don’t.” Jungkook stood and leveled with Jin. “You can just stay on the ship. I don’t mind.”

The older man thought it over, still uncomfortable with becoming someone who he disliked. He tapped his foot nervously. Then, he released a deep breath.

“Fine. Have it your way.” The words lacked the punch. Instead, he just sounded really tired.

“Well, Jimin, it appears you’re officially a wanted man.” Jungkook slapped a yellowed piece of paper in front of the cabin boy. The man picked it up, crinkling his nose as he spotted his face plastered on the paper.

“I didn’t think anyone would care.” Jimin said quietly.

“They think we’ve kidnapped you.” The captain scoffed.

“They aren’t in the wrong for thinking that.” Namjoon crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“Fine. Jimin, you need to stay low. You are not to leave the boat for the next few months so get comfortable.” He ordered. The blonde haired boy nodded at the command.

The captain was quite honestly worried for his crewmate, but he often reminded himself that Jimin was a grown man, older than himself. Jungkook then motioned to Namjoon and Jin.

“Namjoon, head out with Jin to get the supplies. I’ll stay with Jimin.”

The other men nodded and went to get the rowboat ready. Jimin stayed silent, staring at the wall just behind Jungkook. The captain shifted awkwardly in his seat.

“Are you alright? It’s not everyday that you become a wanted man.” Jungkook tried his best to reach out to the timid man. Jimin jumped, seemingly having forgotten that he was still there.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Jimin blinked a couple times.

“I asked if you were alright?” Jungkook wasn’t one to be emotional, besides perhaps anger.

He had a hard time connecting to others, which was why he left that job to Namjoon, the first mate. Sadly, that resulted in Jungkook feeling like a stranger on his own ship and Namjoon had a deeper bond to the others than he would ever have.

“I’m fine. I’ve been through worse and at least I have you guys now.” Jimin smiled shyly. Jungkook nodded and they fell into silence once more.

The captain clenched his fingers and unclenched them over and over in an attempt to loosen his nerves. This man was his crewmate, why was he so nervous?

“Are you afraid of me, Jimin?”

The older man looked startled at the question, yet he still shook his head. “No, I don’t think I can be. You’re younger than me and you’ve probably been through a lot. I respect you for how far you’ve come in so little time.”

Jungkook felt something inside him break open, just slightly. The crew was beginning to peel away at the chest he kept locked inside. Its contents were not ones that he wanted people to see. Inside was a small boy who used anger to keep himself trapped, to keep himself safe. And he longed to be angry at someone, anyone, but the crew was making it increasingly hard.

“Why are you so nice to me? I don’t treat you well.”

“Yes you do. You think I don’t know how other captains treat their cabin boys?” Jimin raised an eyebrow. “You just let me do whatever I want and I worry that I’m not doing enough.”

“I was a cabin boy.” He said vaguely.

He didn’t want to unlock that whole other side of himself all over again; not after he spent the last year keeping it locked shut so he would never have to think about it again. But at night...at night he got nightmares. And insomnia swept him up in its arms until he couldn’t breathe.

“Really? What was that like?”

Jungkook ignored the man’s question. “That’s not important. I just wanted to make sure you know...you have no reason to be so timid around me.”

Jimin’s face was blank for a moment, but then he started smiling. A small laugh left him.

“I’m just like that with everyone, captain, no need to feel insecure.” He teased and Jungkook glared at the cabin boy.

Namjoon wasn’t one to be impulsive, but just this once he was. He was looking around the market when he heard a loud shout and clang from somewhere nearby. The man was curious, as one should be, and he walked towards the area where people were fleeing.

“I’ll shoot your brains out right now if you say one more word.” The low rumble of a man echoed off the cobblestones.

Namjoon froze, taking in the scene before him. He really shouldn’t get himself in more trouble than necessary considering he was a wanted criminal now.

“Listen man, I wasn’t trying to steal from you.” A dark haired man lay on the ground, a gun to his head.

“Then why did you have your hand in my pocket?!” The man growled. The dark haired man laughed and pushed the gun off his forehead.

“A simple misunderstanding?” The other man smirked.

He then proceeded to kick out the legs of the man holding the gun. The gun flew across the pavement and the dark haired man easily picked it up. He pointed it at the other man and, without even flinching, shot him in the forehead. It was a clean shot, the man was dead in an instant. The dark haired man pocketed the gun and looked up. The only person left at the scene was Namjoon.

“You want to pick a fight too?” The man furrowed his eyebrows, hand going to his pocket.

“Actually, I was wondering if you want to grab a drink.” Namjoon smiled. “I hear that if you say it’s your birthday, you’ll get a free pint.”

Kim Taehyung was an easy addition to the crew. His aim was impeccable, but his personality was something else. He had this way of changing his mood like changing clothes. The man never revealed too much information about himself, like how he learned to wield a gun so well or why he was on the run, but the captain knew it had something to do with the royal navy. In many aspects, he was like the captain. He hid many parts of himself.

“Taehyung,” Jungkook leaned against the wall, watching the older man shiver after having just walked the plank. “Do you like the sea?”

“I wouldn’t be sailing around with you if I didn’t.” Said man smiled a little. He used a towel to dry off his hair. The sea brought him pain, but he knew he needed to begin healing.

“I’ve got this grand idea to visit the queen and steal some of her fine jewelry.” Jungkook said nonchalantly. “What do you think?” He tried to nudge the man to open up to him. Which was rather hypocritical as Jungkook was not one to open up to his crew.

“Oh?” At the mention of her highness, Taehyung stiffened.

In his mind he remembered holding up his right hand and pledging his allegiance to her majesty. He remembered the smile she wore as she wished them a safe journey. A journey he would not return from. Words he could never take back. Taehyung was a man of his word and that oath still hung in his mind like an old sweater.

“Taehyung.” Jungkook stood straighter, causing the gunner to do the same. “You’re an excellent shot. Why did you leave the navy?”

The man frowned, his entire demeanor changing. Tension buzzed in the air. The pain from somewhere in his chest gave a tug once more. Taehyung swallowed thickly and finally backed down. He turned to fold the towel and put it away.

“It was more about conquest and less about adventure. The sailors simply didn’t care for the waters they skidded across.” He spoke softly, as if remembering a distant memory.

He was thinking of the orange sunset, the calloused hands, the hushed words spoken at night that he could tell no one. He thought of the sailor who died in his arms. The sailor who was set adrift to become one with the sea. The sailor who taught him all he knew and loved him. It was like a separate part of him that he had hidden away.

“And I lost someone who meant a lot to me. I couldn’t go near the sea again without thinking of him-them.” He cleared his throat. “It took some time, but I think I’ve healed enough to love the sea once more.”

Jungkook let the pieces click into place. And like a lightbulb, his eyes lit up in recognition. He hesitantly reached out and took Taehyung’s hand in his. The brush of skin on skin caused him to wince slightly in discomfort.

“Taehyung, I don’t care about who you are or who you love.” He said quietly. “BTS is happy to have you. All of you.”

Tha captain sucked in a breath, ready for the inevitable nausea as he hugged him, the tears began to wet his face.

The sky was gray. He wasn’t even allowed to see the sun the day his eyes went dark. It was like a cruel trick that he must undergo. The softest of hands touched Taehyung’s rough ones.

“Why did you let this happen? You saw the person aiming at me and yet you did nothing. Are you a coward?” The words slipped out of the mouth of his dead lover like gasoline. And suddenly his world was ablaze.

Taehyung jolted awake, heaving himself up from his bed and tumbling out into the hallway. It was gray, the color bringing a foul taste to his mouth. He made his way out to the deck, still in a hazy stupor. There was a salty tinge to the wind. The sea was restless today, it’s waves tinged a gray.

Gray like his lover’s eyes. Gray like his uniform, gray like his hair. The pounding of the sea rocked the ship back and forth. To his surprise, he found his captain laying on the deck, arms and legs splayed out and just staring at the sky.

“Captain? Are you alright?”

“Taehyung? Ah, you’re awake so early.” Jungkook sat up and crossed his legs. He tilted his head back and let the wind ruffle through his hair.

“What are you doing up so early?” He countered, plopping next to him.

“I haven’t been able to sleep in years, Tae.” The nickname slipped out easily. Taehyung pressed his lips into a line. The last time he heard that was when he lost him.

“Me neither. Being a deserter doesn’t stir pity.” Taehyung responded coldly, eyes glued to the rough sea. Jungkook didn’t make a fuss about this new information. He simply nodded and looked up to the sky.

“So how did you become captain?” The gunner asked, seeing if he could pry open any piece of the mysterious captain’s life. The man stiffened noticeably, gaze flickering between Taehyung and the deck.

“Hey, what’s that?” A new voice joined the mix.

They both turned to see Jimin pointing out into the sea. Jungkook immediately stood, eyes narrowing as he spotted the object in the distance. Another ship was headed full speed towards them. It would be a matter of minutes before they were next to each other.

Jungkook cursed and pulled on a coat. He gestured to Taehyung. “You, go grab your guns and you,” He pointed at Jimin. “Go wake up the others and tell them to bring weapons.” He turned towards the railing, his fingers clutching the sides. “We have guests.”

Hoseok loved his ship. He would never imagine leaving it and his crew were never the kindest people. Still, he did feel bad about running off with the ship and leaving them stranded. Being lost in his own thoughts was a common occurrence. He often hummed or sometimes spoke.

“Okay, Hoseok. There’s another ship over there, all you need to do is sidle right on up and ask to join the crew!” A few weeks of living alone really had done something to his drive for human companionship.

Maybe he should have paid more attention to the local papers when he was in Krestleven because then he would have heard about the rogue pirate crew known as BTS and how one of their men shot and killed someone point blank, another got drunk off his ass and started a fight, and another had an insatiable thirst for blood. Maybe that would have deterred him. Maybe. He was still very much deprived.

What he hadn’t expected when he arrived, was ropes thrown over the deck and a gun pointed to his head. The man felt sweat gathering on his forehead.

“Who are you and why have you approached our vessel?” The man said, his voice low.

“Taehyung, it’s all clear below deck. It seems that this guy’s the only one on board.” A timid voice echoed from below deck. Then the head the voice belonged to popped out into the doorway. He had blonde hair and a cheeky smile.

“See, I told you.” Hoseok said wearily. “I just wanted to say that I need a crew and I would be honored if you let me on yours.”

“Do you even know who we are?” The captain spoke, motioning for Taehyung to lower his gun. The man obliged, if a bit hesitant.

“No? Should I?” Hoseok smiled sheepishly.

“Do you know BTS?” The broad shouldered man said.

Oh. Oh no. Hoseok had definitely chosen the wrong ship to approach. The wind combed through his hair and they were at a stand still.

“Well, I still need a crew. Do you guys have a pilot?”

“No, Jin has been doing that so far.” The captain quirked his head towards the broad shouldered man.

“And I’m doing a fine job!” Jin shouted, facing growing red.

“You almost crashed us into the rocks. Twice.” Taehyung growled. The man was silent after that.

“See! I’m a trained pilot, I can do it!” Hoseok said hurriedly, an excited expression taking over his face.

“We’ll see about that.” The captain said darkly. “I’ll give you one week to prove yourself and if you cause any issues, I won’t hesitate to drop you. You mean nothing to this crew until you earn it, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And don’t call me sir.” The captain visibly bristled. “Just call me Captain.”

Hoseok was far too energetic for this early in the morning. Jungkook felt his eye twitch as he bounced around, talking excitedly from person to person. Only Jin seemed to humor him while Namjoon just frowned. Jimin tried his best, but even the slightest bit of annoyance came from the man. Taehyung remained silent as Hoseok pestered him. Therefore, that left Jungkook having to entertain the man.

“Why are you so hyper so early in the morning.” Jungkook glared at the older man, but that did little to dampen his shine.

“Well, I haven’t seen or spoken to anyone in about a month!” Hoseok said, far too cheerily. His smile seemed a little strained.

“Right…” Jungkook just laid his head back down on the table. “Go steer the ship, Pilot. We’re stopping at Lamit today. It’s a small fishing town off the coast of the british isles.”

“Alright!” He then hopped off to steer the ship and Jungkook was suddenly afraid that this man was now in charge of their lives.

For some reason, Jimin had been very taken with this energetic personality, though he didn’t seem pleased in the morning. The cabin boy trailed after the pilot like a puppy.

“Namjoon.” The captain barked hoarsely, his voice still waking up. “Go make sure they’re doing their jobs.”

The first mate just nodded and left to follow after them, shouting something about staying on task. Jungkook groaned and rubbed his temples, but even if his crew gave him a headache in the morning, they were still his responsibility and he wouldn’t give them up for the world.

Yoongi wanted adventure. He craved it. He was restless, always drawn to the water that seemed to understand him better than any person. The ever changing tide and choppy waters spoke to him. The man was short of stature, yet he held himself with pride.

He fished, he delivered, he traveled every now and then, but he never had any adventure. Most who met the man would not describe him as a risky thrill seeker, but he was so much more than that. His insides felt like a whirlpool, churning water, and shimmering gold.

When the ship came into view at the small town of Lamit, he needed to take his chance. He was well versed in other cultures from his travels as a fisherman and he was knowledgeable on the sea’s creatures. He could pass off as a striker well enough.

But Yoongi wasn’t stupid, he knew that the ship belonged to BTS. He kept up with the papers enough to know they had maybe six members and none of them seemed like a striker. It may have been the riskiest decision he had ever made, but he still ran towards the ship as the captain stepped off.

The man seemed to instantly know what he was going to say and just sighed heavily.

“No.” The captain stated. Yoongi was taken aback. This man was quite a bit younger than him and yet...yet he had knocked him out of place with just one word.

“I just wanted to-”

“No. We don’t have the need for another crew member.”

“Yoongi?!” The shrill voice of another man hit him. The pale man winced, recognizing the voice instantly.

“Hoseok, I didn’t know you were the sixth member.” Yoongi stated coolly as he tried to regain his footing in the conversation.

He knew Hoseok from the few times he’d gone to Krestleven. They had interacted a couple times and while Yoongi found Hoseok exhausting, Hoseok enjoyed his company far too much.

“Fine, what can you do… Yoongi?” The captain looked him over, cold gaze flashing over his features.

“I can be a fine striker, sir.” Yoongi said, placing his hands behind his back.

“Yes! Yoongi is very knowledgeable. He knows all about fish and crust-crust-”

“Crustaceans.”

“Yes! Those!” Hoseok tugged on the captain’s coat like a child.

The captain sighed, prying Hoseok’s fingers off his coat with a look of disgust. “Watch it, you’re still on trial.”

Hoseok backed away quickly, but they both knew the captain wouldn’t get rid of him. Then the captain turned back to Yoongi.

“I’ll put you on a trial period that is only over when I say so.” The captain’s nostrils flared. “You want adventure, you want the sea? Then you’ve come to the right place. If you want to settle down and litter the ocean with your shit, you’re in the wrong place.”

“I love the ocean.” He said earnestly. “I can’t live so far from it all the time. I need to be near it.” yoongi said desperately. “So please, let me join your crew.”

Dignity be damned, he was going to be a pirate.

It was the night before their biggest heist yet. Namjoon settled into the bunk across from his captain. The two hadn’t spoken specifically on the subject, but it was agreed that they were more comfortable in each other’s presence at the end of the day.

The exhausted captain flung himself into his bed, landing with a loud thump and an oomph. The first mate rolled over as the captain blew out the candle. It was quiet, but he knew the younger man was looking at him.

“What’s wrong, Namjoon?” Jungkook sighed after a moment.

The truth? Namjoon was insecure. Putting his faith into six other men was a huge stretch after only being able to trust Jungkook for a year. The man was also supposed to be a role model for the crew, after all, Jungkook felt like a crazed captain sometimes. And when those times came, people looked to him to lead. Trust was so tricky.

“Can we trust these men?” Namjoon frowned, thinking about the meal from earlier that night. Jin had made a recipe and named it his ‘secret recipe’, but it just made everyone waste the water supply by drinking gallons trying to cool the heat.

“Of course.” Jungkook pulled the covers up to his chin, fingers peeking out.

“How do you know?”

“It’s this gut feeling.” He responded simply.

“We can’t keep working off your gut feelings, Kookie.” Namjoon let out a breath and turned away.

“I know.” The captain said quietly to the other man’s back. “But I would gladly die for these men. I can feel it in my bones.”

The haunting tone of his voice reminded the first mate of the night before the mutiny. The night before everything changed. It made him shiver, but he trusted his captain. He had to learn to trust the others too.

Jungkook gripped the side, his crew watching his back. He laughed a little, letting the breeze carry his voice as far as it could. He overlooked the british mainland’s harbor. A mess of smoke and cobblestone laid out before him.

“Men, we’re about to be…” He gritted his teeth and whipped around to face his crew. “Notorious.”

Namjoon straightened, chest puffing out with pride as he watched his old friend lead so confidently. Jimin shivered as the wind bit at his hands and cheeks. Taehyung was lazily spinning his guns in his hands. Jin had his arms crossed, foot tapping anxiously against the planks.

Hoseok had the biggest grin on his face and Jungkook couldn’t even be annoyed anymore. Yoongi remained silent, stoically staring ahead. He had yet to say a single word to many members and the longest conversation he’d had with him was the day he met him a year ago. Still, this was a fine crew. His crew. And Jungkook would die for his crew, which surprised him as he had never thought that way before.

Perhaps his heart was swelling with an unknown emotion towards the men that barged into his life unannounced. Yet, he didn’t really mind.

“Let’s be strong and stick together. Have each other’s backs. By the end of the night, we should be as rich as kings and just as known.” Jungkook grinned, the adrenaline already pounding in his ears.

“Do you hear me, men?” He stomped his boot harshly against the planks to gain their attention.

They all straightened out and chorused the words he had long awaited to hear.

“Yes, captain!”

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Taglist: @lovelyseomin @yoongi-sugaglider

#bts #bts x reader #Jeon Jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook #JK #Pirate au #angst #fluff #tatawrites #Down With The Ship

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ussgallifrey · 5 years

Text

Change of Plans

✦ Summary: Bucky really wants to give you a good Valentine's day, but sometimes even the best thought plans don't work out the way you thought they would. ✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader ✦ Warnings: Mentions of menstruating and periods ✦ Word Count: 3.3k

There was something about the girl, who made his heart thud with a continuous home home home, that made Bucky desperately want to get this right.

At the admission that you'd never celebrated the holiday with a partner before, which was said nonchalantly over a shared pizza, he was absolutely determined to change that. Sure, you'd only been together seven months - give or take a few days - but there was just something about you that made all the little signals in his head go off all at once and his tongue would tie up and he felt hopelessly dumbstruck at the sight of your smile like all the time.

He was crazy about you. That's all.

And because of that, he wanted to do something for the 14th. Nothing overly insane, like dinner in Paris with fireworks at the Eiffel Tower. Though, if you asked, he would have no qualms about absconding a quinjet and flying you there on the spot. But that is definitely not your taste - not even close.

But you deserve flowers and chocolates and a card and probably one of those giant pink teddy bears with the heart that says XO-XO that you were cooing and awwing over in CVS last week. And, God help him, he might even attempt to make dinner.

Yeah, he's got it bad for you.

And waking up in the same bed this morning, with the knowledge that my place or your place? had finally ended at long last and that this was how he got to wake up almost every day. Well, it just about made his heart thump out of his chest and wouldn't that be a messy cleanup?

So, he's pleased as punch with himself when he can hear the happy little aww coming from the bedroom later that morning. He's obviously been up for hours already, attempting to throw together something edible in the kitchen while you slept away unawares.

You're a sight to see, as he leans against the bedroom door frame. Still under the covers, but sitting up enough to smell the vase of fresh flowers on your nightstand.

"You devil," you chide with a tired smile and a beckoning hand.

Bucky's more than happy to thread his fingers through yours as you pull him down next to you.

"When did you do this?"

He wants to kiss you.

"Had some time," he says instead, cupping a hand to your flushed cheek.

You hum happily, eyes fluttering closed as you lean into the simple touch. Warm lips feather-light against his palm.

"Keep it up, mister. See where it gets you."

Bucky chuckles, leaning his weight over you as his lips ghost against your own.

"Mmm, that's the plan," he murmurs before dropping a kiss to your waiting lips as you tug him ever closer.

Bucky likes to think he's pretty flexible. More of a flying by the seat of his pants type of person than a strict schedule follower. That's why he was going to let the day kind of flow on its own natural path. Breakfast in bed, maybe more in bed. Then a shower obviously, and maybe if things were to happen in there then that would be fine because you could still get the box of chocolates and the teddy bear whenever. And lunch and dinner didn't really have to fall on a set time either, so long as there was plenty of time left over for other activities later that night.

But even those simple plans are easily changed.

"Well, this sucks," you announce, emerging from the bathroom with a towel around you, hair damp against your skin.

He's already changed the sheets in hope of sparing you further embarrassment.

"I'm sorry."

Dropping down onto the edge of the bed, Bucky folds himself around you to massage your warm shoulders.

"No, I'm sorry," you sigh, leaning back into his welcomed touch.

A kiss to your neck, fingers digging into the muscles of your back, "Hush. It's not like you can control it."

You nod slowly, head down and hands folded in your lap. He doesn't like the change one bit. But he lets the silence stretch at your discretion. Focusing all his skill into alleviating any and all pain he can with his impromptu massage.

After a moment, you admit, "It wasn't supposed to happen for three more days."

He gives a little hum of acknowledgment as he works his thumbs along your spine.

"It's bullshit, Buck."

That gets you a kiss to your cheek.

"I know, baby."

Leaving the comfort of the bed for only a moment to pad across the room, in your comfiest clothes and newly gifted heart-eyed taco-patterned socks, you return with an assorted box of chocolate and a small bag that had been hidden in the closet.

His heart, honest to god, wants to burst. He can't even remember the last time someone got him something for Valentine's.

Bucky holds up the covers for you to slip back in next to him, cuddling up against the large purple teddy bear wedged in between you both.

Handing over the red gift bag with silver ribbon tassels, "You're going to love this."

A raised eyebrow and a wary voice responds, "That sounds ominous."

You just smile, watching him untie the ribbon.

"Oh my god," he groans. "Why?"

All you can do is laugh as he pulls out the small Falcon plushie with a disgusted touch, as though the toy is actually burning him.

"I think this actually constitutes as a form of abuse."

You can't stop laughing, but you grab the bag from him while trying to fight back tears and pull out another stuffed animal.

It's a sloth.

And then he sees the heart and he just shoots you a strange look and it sends you into another round of hysterics.

Snatching it from your hands as you collapse back against the pillow with howls of laughter, Bucky stares at the large red heart that says Damn Shawty You Fine.

As you continue to scroll through your phone, Bucky holds out one of the chocolates for you. Opening your mouth enough to let him slide the cream-filled piece into your mouth.

You were trading off all the coconut and walnut and pecan clusters his way, and in return, he was giving you all your favorites - despite his personal tastes.

"Mmm," you coo around the candy as you eagerly hold up your phone for him to see. "Look at this one - he's so cute."

Bucky stares at the curly-haired poodle wearing a heart headband.

"His name is Cupid. How cute is that?"

"Super cute," he responds with absolutely no disinterest whatsoever as he tries to catch up on the last few Dodgers' games before they were moved to California. The bastards.

You're not even bothered by it as you scroll through the adoption app and show him a tiny dachshund with a Free Kisses bandana.

"His name is Cupcake, Bucky. Cupcake."

He nods, "I can see that, yeah."

"Can you imagine if we got a dog? Oh my god, I haven't had a dog since I was a kid. We should get a dog."

Bucky shoves another piece of chocolate into your mouth as you laugh weakly around it, the protests dying on your lips.

It's absolutely freezing outside, but he insisted on going out to the store instead of using one of those delivery apps you were so crazy about. It was giving you a chance to sleep anyway, so if he was out for a while, then all the better.

- Midol

- Half-baked ice cream

- Gummy bears (not sour)

- A dog

- Rubbing alcohol & medical tape - ur fault

- We're almost out of dish soap too

- ♡

Is what the text reads.

Pulling his hood up and his coat closer, Bucky walks down the recently snowed-over sidewalk towards the store.

And you know what, it was all going just fine. He found everything you ask for - well, almost everything - and was at the register. And it was fine.

But the universe intervened and a pink poster caught his eye for the local animal shelter's Paws and Claws event. And he got a really stupid idea in his head. Because clearly, some higher power was trying to get him to check off everything on your list.

Which is how he finds himself inside the FurEver Home animal rescue, almost forty minutes away from the apartment. Like an idiot. A lovesick idiot.

There's an older woman behind the counter that a white cat is walking across and dangling red heart banners wrap around the back wall. Small cat condos are in the one corner with a Kitty Haven sign above a room. And on the opposite side, it's not that difficult to miss the distinct sound of several dogs barking.

"Hi, how can I help you today?" she smiles warmly.

And that's when he realizes what he's actually doing.

"Uhm, yeah, I actually wanted to look at the dogs, if you - "

She's already moving around the counter, "Yeah, of course."

Why did this seem like a good idea again?

"You can put that over here if you want?" she shows him a little shelf, pointing at his shopping bag.

"Oh, uh, yeah."

What the actual fuck was he doing?

"Okay, hands to yourself. If there's one you want to really meet, I'll get them leashed up and everything. Was there a certain one or a breed you were interested in?"

Bucky shakes his head dumbly, "No, just wanted to look around, I guess."

The barking is insanely louder once the soundproofed door is opened. Everything smells of wet dog and he's actually kind of overwhelmed, unsure of where to look as she guides him down the first row of kennels.

"These guys here are some of our newer arrivals," her voice is raised to be heard over the barking.

"Rocco here is a mixed pit, two years old. He's better with a quieter home right now. And Jessie was brought in from the same place. Little skittish, but she's a real sweetie."

He looks down at the large pitbull that's standing up on its hind legs to see him. And the nearly identical female in the kennel next to him. His heart squeezes.

"We have Cookie over here. She's a Collie mix, about five years is what our vet estimates. Domino is our oldest pup, she's ten, but she is so good with kids."

The little graying dog wags her tail when he walks in front of her kennel.

Oh, this was such a bad idea. He wants to take them all. Could he take them all?

They round the corner and another row of kennels. Max, Coco, Puff, Pebbles, Sascha, Twix, and Kit all bark and wag their tails and excitedly hop up as he walks by. And he is hit by the fact that this was a really really stupid idea.

A final row of kennels.

He passes by Margo and Finn, but pauses at last before a Golden Retriever - the only dog actually laying on a bed instead of right at the door.

"This is Lottie - hi, sweetheart."

The dog hops up and walks over to them, nuzzling her nose against the kennel as the woman stops in front of her.

"She's three, very well behaved. Housebroken, knows your basic commands."

The dog isn't even looking his way, just sniffing against the door, trying to get to the woman.

"Her last owners couldn't afford the vet bills; had to give her up. But we got you all taken care of, baby, didn't we?"

It's only then that the dog turns her head and Bucky realizes, "She's blind?"

"Yes. She got SARDS and her previous family couldn't afford the treatment and surgery."

"Is she on medication or…?"

"No, not anymore. Antibiotics post-surgery and some pain relievers, but she's all healed up now."

He stares at the healed-over scars where her eyes used to be and his chest aches.

The woman seems to pause, taking in his expression.

"Would you like me to grab a leash?"

He nods wordlessly, struck by the dog in front of him, sniffing around the edge of her kennel.

She opens the door and the dog backs up with an excited little tail wag. With the command, she sits and the woman is able to get the purple leash attached to her collar. And then she hands it to him and oh, hey. This is happening.

"Free to walk in here or right out on the main sidewalk. When you're done, just bring her back over to me or one of the other volunteers. These guys are microchipped, just so you know."

Oh, darn. Looks like opening all the kennels and stealing the dogs wasn't going to work out then.

"Oh, okay," Bucky says instead.

The woman moves on to the other kennels, before disappearing around the corner, giving him room with the dog. Bucky looks down at her waiting patiently in front of him. Slowly, he kneels down, offering out his hand.

She sniffs it, once, twice, before inching her face a little closer.

He's awestruck.

Hesitantly, he touches her muzzle with gentle little strokes. She leans right into it.

"Hey, sweetheart. Wow, hey, hey."

Her tail thumps happily against the concrete floor.

"Yeah, you're coming home with me, aren't ya, baby?"

Distantly, he thinks he's being a touch insane. But Bucky just stands up and slowly starts to walk her down the back row. Watching how Lottie stays right along his left side, her head occasionally bumping against him. When they reach the end of the row, he guides her with the leash to turn around and she does it perfectly.

"Good girl," he rubs a hand between her ears as she pants.

The woman doesn't seem the least bit surprised when he meets her up front only a minute later.

He signs the adoption paper and the license registration. Gets coupons for a pet store and a vet visit. Is given several pamphlets about bringing a new dog home. And one very specific paper about blind dogs which he spends far more time reading over than the other ones.

The volunteer recommends getting a harness or collar that signals her disability to others and something called a Halo? It all just kind of keeps hitting him in waves with that underlying what the hell did I just do?

And then he's standing in the middle of the icy sidewalk with his dog. His Dog.

Ooh, boy. That's a crazy thought, ain't it?

He looks down at Lottie who's just patiently sitting on his left side, panting lightly.

"Come on, girl. Let's get you home."

The apartment is still dark when he walks in. Lottie remains on her leash - he'll have to lead her around the place first. Opening the contents of the shopping bag, he grimaces as he hurries to put the very warm ice cream into the freezer.

And then he hears a tired groan from the bedroom, "That you out there, handsome?"

His breath catches as he looks down at Lottie and back at the bedroom door.

"Uh…" he stalls. "I'm not sure if I'd go that far?"

"I'll be the judge of that," you call back playfully. "You got the goods?"

He nods with a silent laugh, unbagging the last few items as Lottie sits at his feet, sniffing the kitchen counter. Bucky pets her head affectionately.

"Yeah, I knew a guy. He cut me a deal."

Your laugh brings warmth to his chest, "That's my man. I hope it was a good deal?"

There's a rustle of sheets and then your very distinct footsteps. And then a gasp.

"I think so," Bucky says with a shy smile.

"You didn't," your voice is adorably high pitched as you stare.

"I did."

You continue staring with a gaped mouth.

There's a jolt of nerves that hits him then. The realization that maybe this wasn't actually a good idea. And, hey, maybe you should have been there to pick a dog you actually wanted. And he should have at least told you or hinted at the possibility instead of just running out and literally adopting a dog.

But then you're crossing the room and crouching down next to Lottie.

"Hey there, pupper. Hi - awww!"

She leans right into your waiting arms as you rub down her sides and scratch behind her ears.

"You got a name, sweetie?"

Your eyes are glued right to her, a lovestruck look on your face.

"Lottie," Bucky says. "But we could change it if - "

"No," you stare up at him with admiration. "No, I like Lottie." And then you turn your attention back to the dog, "Yes, I do! Yes, I do. Oh, you are an angel, aren't you? What a pretty girl!"

He loves the way you wrap yourself around the dog, emitting all your affection onto her. Not even bothered by the obvious scars on her face. Seeing a dog in need of love and giving her all you've got.

And then you're standing up and squaring him with a lopsided smile.

"You're an idiot, you know that right?"

Bucky tries to look offended, but he just smiles. "Yeah. But I'm your idiot."

"Ah, ah, ah!" You chastise, a hand reaching down to rest on Lottie's head, "Our idiot."

He can't help but roll his eyes as you lean down and continue petting the dog.

"Yeah, I hope you're ready for the full force of this guy's stupidity, Lottie. He comes home looking like a mess almost weekly. Can't even take off his boots at the door like a normal person."

Bucky coughs loudly, "Anyway, dinner?"

You don't even pay him a bit of attention. "And the smell. Doesn't even take a shower after a long mission. I hope your little doggy nose can handle it or maybe we'll just hose him down."

"Italian?"

Fixing him with a pointed look, "Could you get anymore cliched for Valentine's Day?"

He grumbles, feeling oddly left out now that you've placed all your attention on Lottie.

"Chinese?"

You smile, standing once again to press a kiss to his nose, "A man after my own heart."

Circling his arms around your waist, he tugs you against his chest, "All it took was the promise of takeout?"

"And a dog."

He nods, "And a dog."

You press a kiss to his lips.

"Oh! And taco socks," you wiggle your foot happily.

Another kiss, and then a longer one, and then a peck. He stares into your eyes, cupping your cheek with everything he has about to burst from his chest with love love love.

"I love you."

Your smile is sweeter than candy as you lean into his hand, "Love you too."

Lottie makes a little whining sound and you break away. Bucky ruffles her fur a bit, already planning a list out for all the things he would need to buy her.

Moving around him, you eye the goods on the counter - snatching the Midol up quickly.

"You got my ice cream?"

He winces, keeping his face focused on Lottie, "Uh… it might have melted?"

You gasp.

"Way to go, Bucky. Just ruin my whole day, why don't you?"

Bucky gaps for a moment, then points at Lottie, "Look, sweetheart! I got you a dog!"

Another gasp of surprise as you move down next to him.

"Well, would you look at that! Guess I'll just have to forgive you then, won't I?"

Lottie thumps her tail against the floor, a smile seemingly on her face as she pants. Bucky pulls you in with one arm and kisses you soundly on the lips.

The day might not have gone as planned, but he thinks everything might have worked out the way it was supposed to after all.

Permanent Bucky Tag List: @livvy-barnes

Want to be added? Send me an ask ❤

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes one shot #marvel fan fic #my fic

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writinginthedarkwood · 5 years

Text

Koma Inu! Kirishima x Reader: The Other Half

The Lion Dog Guardian of the shrine is a cheerful and strong protector of the shrine, but what is he doing all alone out here? Are you what the shrine has been missing all this time?

A tribute to my dear friend @kiriwhores-sama-main who is seriously a JOY to talk too and a talented author.

Full list of my other Yokai works included in my Master List.

Has nsfw content.

“Something isn’t right.” Your grandfather was a quiet man. He preferred to sit propped up near the window so he can watch the day go by. He hasn’t been able to walk for a few years now, but that never bothered you. It was never a chore to care for him, in fact, you love that you can repay him for raising you alone. “Did I not add enough to the soup?” You asked sweetly before gently blowing on the hot liquid. You held the spoon up to him, but he didn’t look away from the window. “Something’s very, very wrong.” He squinted looking past your garden and towards the rest of town. He leaned just a bit closer and wiped some of the condensation off of the glass before sitting back in his chair. “The birds have gone off. There’s something wicked in the air.”

“Don’t be silly, everything is fine.”

He refused to eat his lunch, not the rice, vegetables or delicious soup. “Would you like to take a nap instead Grandfather?” He shook his head no and continued staring out the window.

You couldn’t wait around all day, not with all of the chores that need done. You clean up after the mess of lunch and head outside. You smiled and carried an empty wooden bucket toward town to fetch water. Grandfather had thought about having someone dig a well on our property, but I told him I didn’t mind the walk. The pathway through the forest is an easy one to stroll through.

Usually the sound of chirping song birds joined you, or the sound of crickets as they hopped along the mossy stones.

It was silent.

“Maybe I should check back up on grandfather...” You looked over my shoulder to decide if you should turn back. “Well we do need water for dinner...”

Before you could move, the ground shook.

The rocks jumped towards the air and rolled with the tremor. You fell to your knees as the ground around you cracked open, moving like it was made of water and not solid Earth. The trees around you lost their branches, slamming into the brush below.

A thicker tree cracked down the middle and fell towards you. You shut your eyes and covered your head. You know the impact or the tree will kill you, but the hit never comes.

The shaking stops and you look out from behind your hands.

He was beautiful, the afternoon sun shone behind him, glowing off of his skin. His hair was impossibly red, it stuck out of his head and them rand down is back like a shaggy lions mane. He smiled down at you and tossed the tree away from the two of you. “You- you caught the tree- you... saved me.” You tried to stand to your feet but you couldn’t. The man laughed and crouched down. “Can I help you up?” He asked sweetly. You nodded your head, trying not let your mouth hang open in shock. He wrapped his hands around your waist and lifted you to your feet with no effort. You were shaky, but stood on your own. “I don’t know how I can thank you enough.” He started to respond to you before the realization struck you. Is grandfather okay?

You quickly turned and ran away, shouting over your shoulder that you were sorry to the man who rescued you. Your feet carried you over debris, jumping over fallen branches and holes in the pathway.

Your garden was spared, a few plants uprooted, but no extreme damage.

But your home, completely crumbled to the ground. The roof had fallen in, the stone walls held towards the bottom, giving some structure to the building, but it was all completely destroyed.

You screamed and tore at the stones, but with every rock you pulled free, the debris would shift and fall even farther in place.

You didn’t know, but your pain was felt by all the forest creatures for miles. They wept with you, the sweet daughter of the valley who had already suffered so many times.

You didn’t mourn alone.

A few months later.

“Good morning Y/N, off to the shrine?” You nodded with a half smile and carried your parcel of lillies. “Off to visit Grandfather.”

The mothers of town have always been kind to you, but they’ve pulled just a bit away. You hear the whispers, especially from the older crowd and the little children.

“She must be bad luck...” “Everyone she loves dies...” “She can’t marry MY son, I don’t have a death wish!”

They smile and wave, but you can see the worry in their eyes. They’d probably be happier if you left.

You continued walking anyway, smiling as you go and humming the same tunes your Grandfather would buzz to himself.

You did this a lot, almost every day if you could help it. The other villagers have neglected the shrine over time, but you worked diligently to keep it clean.

The gate stood beautiful and red in the afternoon sunshine, it’s arches stretching far into the sky. You always found yourself politely nodding to the guardian of the shrine, a beautiful Lion Dog statue that is worn like it has seen better years. It roared to the sky with a gaping mouth. You stopped and gazed at him a little longer today. It hasn’t rained in a few days, the statue looks sort of dirty. You smiled to yourself and decided to clean him up a bit. “Stay right there friend, I’ll get you cleaned up.”

You set the package of lillies propped up against the steps and grabbed the wooden bucket and cloth you had hiding just inside the entry way. You always wash the walls of the inner shrine, and sweep the pathways among the graveyard.

You scrubbed away what looked like years of grime, the stone statue darkening in color from the water. Bird droppings fell away, and the stone underneath looked smooth and better than ever.

It was strange that the Komainu was alone. Parallel to this one is an empty place holder, a shadow remaining where another statue must have sat. After finishing your work you stared at the empty place for a moment and suddenly felt sad, the shadow instilling some type of longing in you, like something really was missing. You pulled a flower from the lillies you brought and placed one on the spot before walking the rest of the way into the shrine.

You swept the pathways and abandoned stone memorials. Your fingers cramped as you scrubbed away dust and dirt from the walls of the sancturary, where the other villagers have long stopped worshiping. Grandfather insisted on being buried here, he was the last of his generation, a pillar in the spiritual community.

You tried not to think too long whenever the thought of him passing alone crept into your head.

You stopped washing the walls for a moment as the sadness crawled up your spine.

The water dripped down the wall and pooled on the floor.

You sang to yourself to bring the mood up, smiling while you sang about nature.

As you started to lose yourself in the music, really ringing out the beautiful notes you felt a tingle of the back of your neck.

Someone was watching you.

You looked stopped singing suddenly and looked around, feeling silly. Why would anybody walk all the way out here other than you? Someone could have followed you from the village, but that’s unlikely, why follow bad luck?

You sighed and carried the bucket outside where you dumped the water and refilled it for next time. The sun is setting, washing the statue kept you out here much longer than you meant too. You rushed to try and hurry back before dark.

You stopped one more time at the beautiful wall of names, seeing your grandfathers on the bottom of the list. You removed the old, starting to wilt flowers and left the new lillies lying there.

Something strange halted your light footsteps, leaving you without any breath in your lungs.

The freshly cleaned statue was gone. You rushed over to it, waving your hands in the air over the pedestal to see if it would collide with stone.

Your hand felt nothing, the lion guardian was gone.

Backing away from the oddity of all your back collided with the other empty pedestal. You jumped like someone touched you, feeling incredibly skittish.

The lillie you left as a gift for the lion dog was different now, it was made out of solid gold. “How is this possible?” You whispered to yourself before reaching out a shaking hand.

The moment you touched the golden flower, the world around you warped and changed.

The tree’s surrounding the shrine grew taller, reaching impossibly tall heights. The sky was a beautiful pinkish hue, it was terribly bright compared to the pastel pallet of the sunset before. The shrine was even bigger, the paint no longer chipping. The stone was sturdy and smooth, practically glowing with cleanliness. Even the air felt different, the mugginess of the summer was gone. It felt crisp and sweet, like flowers were blooming nearby.

“H-hello?” You stepped onto the stairs, they’re far grander now. You held onto the railing to sturdy yourself.

You thought you heard footsteps, but saw nobody around. You called out again, your voice echoing around you, making you feel even more alone.

You heard a strange noise nearby, the sound of something heavy falling to the ground. The further you walked along, the more audible another sound became. Someone was... grunting? Even yelling a bit. You rounded a corner to a deeper part of the shrine yard.

“Ohhh I didn’t see you there!” A voice called before you barely came into view.

You gasped, the man who saved you during the earth quake was throwing rocks around the yard.

He stretched his arms over the back of his head, pulling his sweaty ab muscles in a lightly obvious attempt to impress you. “I was just, throwing in an extra work out before sundown!” He sat down on a mossy rock and threw a towel over his shoulders. “But uh! Welcome! I guess I should start by thanking you!” He smiled and motioned for you to walk closer. You took a few steps into the grass, the blades tickled your ankles. “I should be the one thanking you...” You smiled toward the ground. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

The terrible loss of your grandfather clouded that memory for so long. It almost felt like a dream, like that moment was so far away from now.

“Hey that was nothing! That tree was like a paper weight to me. It really is YOU that deserves all the praise.”

A light blush freckled your cheeks. “But I haven’t done anything...”

He stood up quickly, his long red hair flowing behind him. He flashed a bright mouth of sharp teeth at you. “Haven’t done anything? Look at this place! It looks amazing because of you!” He threw his arms out and motioned to the beauty around you two.

It really was gorgeous. Huge flowering plants lined the walkways between the graves. Memorials were shining and polished perfectly.

“A human hasn’t loved and cared for this place like this in, well. Centuries! Your warm heart has really made it a more fun place to live.” His energy was infectious. He reached a hand out for you to take with a sweet gaze. “Can I show you around?”

You felt no fear in your heart, you reached out and touched his warm hand, feeling nothing but positive energy radiate from him.

The two of you strolled around the shrine, the memorials seeming to go on forever. Some were grand tall statues, others were long trailing walls with hundreds of names on them. He talked while the two of you strolled together, and you noticed that he almost seemed, nervous?

“And- uh- yeah! That was the graveyard, a little sad I guess but up here is the inner shrine where I-I live!” He chuckled a bit and touched his hair. “If you’d like to see... that?” He kind of drew out his sentence, looking at you with a cute scrunched up face.

Seeing the inner shrine? You beamed. It’s not often people are allowed to see the inner shrine where the most sacred items are stored. “Wow really? You would let me inside?” You asked with wide eyes. “Of course I would!” He looked at you with a face that said he couldn’t believe you would even ask.

The closer you walked to the shrine, the more different it looked. It was huge, like a palace. “Wow!” Your chest filled with excitement, it was unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing...” You said under your breath. “I guess it is a little impressive now. It looked terrible not too long ago, but since you’ve come around the place has really cleaned up.”

Your bare feet padded against the marble pathway, the stone felt smooth and a little warm. Your skirt brushed gently across the ground, you almost felt the need to pull it up, the dirty cloth feeling out of place in such a grand setting.

“I really did all this?” You asked looking around at the blooming cherry trees. “You sure did!” He smiled and gave your hand a pat. “It’s been, well. Really nice with you being here so often.” He looked at you with a sweet, smaller smile. “Are you the Koma Inu of this shrine?”

“Yup! You figured it out.” He stretched his free arm out and flexed. “Yeah I keep this place nice and safe on my own. Bragging wouldn’t be very manly of me, but I’ve been watching over this place for as long as I remember. Nobody can mess with the dead when I’m around!”

“You’ve been here all alone?” You didn’t mean to pry, you thought your question was innocent enough. His face dropped, his smile fading for just a moment. You stopped walking, just outside a very large golden door. “I’m sorry did I say something to upset you?”

His smile bounced back to his face. “No! No never, not at all Y/N.” He put a hand on your face for a just a second, cupping your cheek. “I can’t imagine you saying anything to hurt me.”

Your face blushed bright red as he stared deep into your eyes.

He dropped his hand and snapped his fingers, the huge golden doors creaking open. When stepping into the great hall, lanterns lit on their own, A fountain with intricate lion carvings in white stone erupted with flowing water. “Not so bad right? What do you think?”

You covered your mouth, feeling very small. Your eyes watered, “I- I’m not worthy enough to be here..” You stammered out, your voice almost failing you.

He spun around quickly and gently took your shoulders in his hands. “Y/N don’t you ever say that!” He said in a gentle tone. He wiped a stray tear off of your cheek.

“I- I am the unlucky girl of the valley. I have no family, no place to live.” You didn’t often get to speak to other people anymore, especially about your emotions. “I’ll dirty this beautiful place.” Your lip quivered and the lion dog’s face was horrified. He scooped you into his arms, firmly holding you against his chest. “Hey now, you don’t have to worry about any of that anymore.” He whispered against the top of your head. “What do you mean?” You looked up at him, puzzled.

“Are you hungry? He asked with a grin.

You were almost always hungry, but you were used to skipping meals.

The two of you sat together by a lovely stone fire pit. He cooked a large piece of meat while you chopped a few large vegetables. He told you stories about his heroic feats, how demons have tried to slink their way into the shrine to disturb the people resting here and eat the gold. You watched him tell his stories with bright animation, completely entranced. He spoke a lot with his hands, reenacting some of his best fighting stances.

The two of you ate together until you were tired, laughing so hard between bites you almost swallowed wrong. You couldn’t see, but outside the sun had long gone. The night sky blanketing the shrine in a cozy haze, the clouds laying low to the ground in a misty fog.

After hours of talking, you hadn’t noticed how close he was sitting to you. Before long, you had laid your head on his shoulder, the warmth of the fire much kinder to you than the wooden floor at the hospital you slept on.

Kirishima caught your slipping head as your sleeping body fell towards his lap. He cradled you in his arms for a minute before picking you up.

Your eyes fluttered open to the soft pale light of morning hitting your face. You were lying on a soft bed of silk. A thick furry blanket covered your bare skin.

You sat up suddenly and pinched your arms, gasping and gripping different parts of your body. “What?” You looked around, wondering how you could wake up inside another dream.

“Eijiro?” You called out, your voice barely able to shout.

The room you’re in is beautiful and expensive looking, but cozy at the same time. The porcelain hand painted vase was filled with wildflowers. The window was large and open just a crack.

Your heart beat quickly, waiting for something to happen.

The door slid open kind of harshly, followed by a booming greeting. “Good morning sunshine!” He had his arms on his hips, still no shirt in sight.

You had the blanket covering your chest, you’re only wearing your slip, your normal clothes were tossed to the side across the room. He sat down across from you on the bed. “How did you sleep?” He asked with a stretch. He yawned a big, sleepy yawn.

“I haven’t slept that well in a long time.” You felt very well rested, the usual soreness of your body was gone. Instead of a terrible hunger pain, you felt warm, safe and a little bit thirsty.

“That’s great! I’m so happy you’re comfortable-”

“However...” You continued. Kirishima shut his mouth quickly like he knew what you were going to say. “Did you take my clothes... off of me?” You asked feeling horribly embarrassed and exposed.

He nervously laughed and scratched his head. “Your clothes were really dirty, I didn’t want to get the bed gross. You must have been exhausted, every time I tried to shake your skirt off you just cuddled closer!”

Your entire body flushed and you hid your face behind the blanket. It’s not like you to trust men so easily, you left yourself in a vulnerable position.

Yet somehow you felt nothing but comfortable with him.

“Did you sleep in here with me?” Before you could even complete your sentence the guardian swung and arm over you, knocking you onto your back and snuggling into your neck. “I like to sleep in short bursts, won’t you come back to sleep with me for a bit before breakfast?”

“I- I can’t stay in bed I need to get to town.” His breath was warm on your neck. “What’s in town that you need? I’m sure I have everything for breakfast already.” His voice was tired, his arm pulled you closer to him. Just his presence was lulling, your eyes suddenly feeling heavy again. “But if I don’t sweep all of the patients rooms before noon I won’t be allowed to eat.”

He stiffened a bit, his breath catching in his chest. He leaned up on his elbow and looked down at your worried face. He gently traced a finger down your cheek. “Forget the hospital. Forget the town.” He said softly. “You could stay here with me, never feeling hungry. Never having to sweep for spare rice.”

You opened your mouth to speak. He closed the space between you, pressing his lips gently on yours.

It felt like a piece of you was completed. Like everything that was wrong, was right again.

A strong warmth covered your body, a light glowing around you. You sat up with a gulp of air. Your hair grew thicker and ran all the way down your back. Your thin, starved body was filled with strength, muscles toning and adding padding to you. You felt a surge of power, causing you to cry out for a moment, your voice was replaced with a loud roar.

Kirishima put a hand on your back, keeping you steady as the power flowed out of you, leaving you winded. “I knew it!” He pulled you into a hug, showering you with kisses. “What just happened?”

“My love, my darling. My other half!” He cupped your face and kissed you again. “Kirishima!” You said with a bit of a giggle.

“The two of us make each other whole. Two halves to the same cycle.”

“Your other half?” You couldn’t help but look at him with awe. His loving, handsome face so hypnotising. “Your luck isn’t ‘bad’. You just don’t belong with the humans.” He looked as if he might cry, but no tears gathered in the corner of his eyes. “Death follows you like a shadow, which for a race of people with very short life spans is catastrophic. Yet it’s a necessary part of balance.”

“Why does death follow me?” You thought about all of the pain you’ve felt for so long. All of the people you’ve lost. Was it really your fault?

“Because you complete me, the two guardians. One of life and one of death.” He pulled you into his lap and kissed your jaw gently. “Together we’ll protect the people of the valley, so that their ancestors may rest peacefully and their most sacred treasures will be safe.”

You couldn’t help but stare at him with awe. His face so loving and gentle. Noticing you looking at him so intently something in his eyes changed. His crimson eyes flashed a mischievous look and he dipped your chin so that your lips would meet his. He playfully parted your mouth with his tongue, circling around and widening the space. Inching his way further into your throat until your eyes rolled back into your head. He pressed your hips down onto the blankets, his fingers digging into your skin. His hips grinded against your, slowly moving your body so that your legs parted for him. You gasped when he disconnected your lips with a small trail of spit between you two. He grinned down at your flushed face. “E-eijiro...” You could barely sputter out his name. “Yes my love?” He said between trailing kisses on your neck. “What are you-” He bit down on your neck piercing your flesh. The wound was deep enough that under any circumstance before you would have screeched in pain. You simply moaned in pleasure, it feeling more tingly than painful. The bite mark started to heal almost instantly.

Kirishima growled in your ear, vibrating your head. He pulled away at the small amount of fabric you had on. It tore away from your body with a satisfying rip. He slowly moved his hips, rubbing his length against you. “Do you want to stay by my side, forever?” He pulled down his pants, his member bouncing free and touching your exposed slit. You gasped and he moved the tip to hover over your entrance. “Yes I do...” You grabbed onto his shoulders and he slammed his mouth down onto yours, pressing himself inside of you at the same time. You mewled into his lips as your body adjusted to his size, he moved his hips just a bit to let your moisture slick around him. His hands roamed all around your body, tracing your curves with his fingertips and cupping your soft breasts. He pumped harder into you, feeling satisfied with the way you fit around him. He pulled his mouth off of yours and put his face next to yours, leaning on his elbow to give himself better leverage. He panted in your ear as he slammed into you, groaning soft words of comfort and praise. Your body responded to his harder movements, the perfect pressure spot being pounded into sending you pulses of pleasure. With every stroke it felt like shock waves through your entire body, the heat burning in your chest through your entire core. He dragged his tongue from your collar bone to your ear, looping your ear lobe in his mouth and nibbling on it. “I love you Y/N.” He whispered. You cried out that you loved him too, as your climax built. Your body shook and chills covered your spine in goose bumps. Your guardian gave you a few long strokes before shooting ropes of cum into your throbbing body. He grinned down at you with his sharp teeth, specks of your blood still staining them and his lips. He kissed you one more time before pulling out and flattening his chest against yours in a cozy snuggle. “Ready to go back to sleep now?” He teased. You tried to giggle but his full body weight was crushing you a bit. He laughed and rolled to the side, pulling you onto him. “We’ll be more responsible tomorrow, can we just have a lazy day today?” He yawned and stretched. You felt full of energy, ready to take on the world. “You want to sleep all day? How can I sleep now?” You wanted to get up and run, testing out your stronger body and what it can do. “Hey I take my job pretty seriously, but I just want to enjoy being reunited with you for awhile.”

You smiled, but then realized his wording was strange. “You mean reunited from that day in the woods?” You questioned. He stiffened a bit underneath of you and you leaned up on your arm to look at his face better. “Is everything alright?”

He smiled at you, his eyes soft and beaming with affection. “Yes my light. Everything is perfect.”

If you enjoy my works and would like to offer me support, please consider donating to my Ko-fi account, right here. It is a tremendous way to help me put out requests faster, as I’m a disabled student.

#Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima x reader #mha kirishima #kirishima lemon #bnha eijiro kirishima #yokai kirishima #yokai bnha au #inthewoods yokai #koma inu #bnha fantasy au #bnha fanfiction #bnha monster boy #monster kirishima

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lo-55 · 4 years

Text

Shattered Chains of Fate Ch.11

Silver and Steel

Ichigo holds his sword firmly, his eyes narrowed at the man in front of him. They’d separated. Ukitake stays behind, but Ichigo has no doubt that he’s just as powerful as the man in front of him.

Ichigo knows good and well that he can’t beat the both of them, but that won’t stop him from trying. Rukia still stands behind him, uncertain.

“I can see you’re determined,” hatman says. He changes his stance. “It’s unfortunate, but today my zanpakuto is feeling playful. She’s a bit picky, you understand, but you’ve gotten her interest.”

“Lucky me,” Ichigo says dryly.

That get’s the man to laugh.

“I’m Shunsui Kyoraku, the captain of squad eight, and you won’t find me so easy to pin as these young bucks here.”

“...are you aware that that sounds suspiciously like an innuendo,” Ichigo narrows his eyes at the man, Kyoraku, who looks startled but laughs a moment later.

“We’re going to have fun with you,” he predicts. There’s an undercurrent in his easy voice, something that is not quite malice but still not nice. Ichigo cocks his head.

“We’ll see.”

Kyoraku crosses his swords at the blade and changes his stance. The world seems to shift, just enough to set Ichigo’s teeth on edge. It’s a familiar sensation, one he’s missed in the past few months. He knows, as soon as this Katen Kyokotsu is released, what has been done.

They’re in a reality marble, or something akin to it.

Ichigo narrows his eyes. This is a man strong enough to warp reality itself to his whims.

“You have to know you can’t win,” Ukitake actually sounds gentle. “If you give up now, you and your friends won’t be hurt.”

“Until you execute us, you mean,” Ichigo shoots him a dark glare. He has the decency to wince.

Ichigo looks to the other man. Kyoraku, captain of the eighth. He’s a whole different kind of monster to Kenpachi. Not a claw in the throat but the shadows that lurked just out of reach.

“So. Shall we begin?”

“I suppose. However, I should explain now what it means for my Zanpakutou to want to play with you,” Kyoraku’s smile turns just a little bit sharper. “Katen Kyokotsu makes childrens games real.”

“... you’ve got to be fucking with me,” Ichigo can feel a twitch develop over his eye brow.

“Excuse me?” Kyoraku asks, cocking his head just so.

“No, no. See, I met a little girl who makes nursery rhymes real, and now you’re going to make a kids game real. That just. Yeah. That’s my life. Why the fuck not.” Ichigo shakes his head. “What game are we playing?”

Kyoraku looks intrigued by his admittance, but tells him all the same.

“Have you ever played Kagome Kagome?”

Ichigo was exasperated. “Which of us is the demon?”

Kyoraku started walking, clock wise, leaving a trail of copies behind him while shadows slithered up and locked around Ichigo’s eyes. He stiffened, but he knew how powers like these worked. Kyoraku was just as bound by the rules as he was.

The question was, now, what happened if he guess wrong? What damage would it do?

Kyoraku’s voice echoed around him. It circled him on all sides, front and back, left and right.

Kagome kagome

Kago no naka no tori wa

Itsu itsu deyaru

Yoake no ban ni

Tsuru to kame ga subetta.

Ushiro no shoumen daare

Kagome kagome, The bird is in the cage,

Ichigo tilts his head. The voice will be no help. This game is hardly fair.

When, oh when will it come out

In the night of dawn

On top of that, all of the space around them now feels distinctly like Kyoraku. The laugh on the wind, the shadow at his back, the scent of sake and, now, some type of bun. He can’t feel where Kyoraku is, and the song is coming to a close.

The crane and turtle slipped

Who is behind you now?

Ichigo swallows thickly. His instincts hum under his skin. He’s always trusted them. They’ve guided and protected him well for years.

And, according to the prickling along his arms, the greatest source of danger is to his right.

“A shadow,” Ichigo says with sudden certainty. “It’s one of the copies of you.”

He swings to the right, fast and hard, and feels flesh cave to the bite of Zangetsu.

It’s the last good blow he makes in the fight.

“So. What do you think is wrong with him?”

“Karin!” Yuzu frowns minutely at her sister from where she stands before the stove, a ladle in one hand. Sauce bubbles cheerfully in the pot in front of her,

“What? We both know there’s something weird about Ichigo. There’s been something weird about him since he got home. And now he’s even weirder. Does he really think we believe he’s our brother?”

“Karin!”

“What?” Karin is unrepentant. They both know. Ever since Ichigo came back he’s been weird. He’s up at all hours, he barely sleeps and he’s skittish as all hell. Karin has started walking louder to make sure he jumps less when she shows up in the room. Even their dad has started acting different and distant from Ichigo. On top of all that, Ichigo is more physically affectionate that she’s ever seen him in their lives.

“I’m pretty sure that the guy upstairs now isn’t even Ichigo. He’s a clone or something.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say!”

“But’s it’s true!” Karin insists. Yuzu falters, the irritated furrow in her brow easing. The spatula in her hand is brandished like a weapon until she sets it on the spoon holder beside the stove.

“But he looks just like Ichigo…”

“The one that came back from his trip is definitely Ichigo.” Traumatized, and Karin isn't’ an expert but is he supposed to be so traumatized from an explosion? Did he hit his head? Was it worse than he said? That sounds like Ichigo. “But the one we have now is definitely not our brother.”

“Karin… How is that possible?”

“Ghosts are possible,” Karin reminds her, ignoring the fact that Yuzu can’t see them. Still, Yuzu believes in them, more than Karin herself does. If she doesn’t acknowledge that they’re there they won’t bother her like they do her brother.

Yuzu bites her lip.

“Still… What do we say?”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything yet,” Karin admits. It’s too soon, and there’s too much weird stuff going on right now. She doesn’t trust that they’ll get the truth if they go after it without more facts to shuffle through whatever crap the adults try to feed them. They’re young, but they aren’t stupid, and Karin knows that they’re going to have to pull answers out like they pull teeth.

“Good,” Yuzu says with finality. Quieter, with a glance at the ceiling, she adds, “That Ichigo, even if he isn’t our Ichigo, he seems… lonely, Karin.”

Karin knows the look in her sisters eye. The one she gets with stray cats and the cast off friends that Ichigo brings home sometimes. It’s the look that lead to the entire year they’d spent devoted to guarding a single caterpillar in a jar until it was a butterfly. Yuzu is not the temperamental one, she isn’t the scraper, but there’s not doubt in Karin’s mind that she’s the real power in the household. When Yuzu puts her foot down that’s all there is to it.

“Then we just make him our,” she says with a roll of her shoulders. Simple as that.”

“Yeah!” Yuzu grins. “Oh! Did I tell you my doll is haunted?”

“... huh?”

* *

Shunsui Kyoraku is a dutiful man.

He does what is required of him, to serve his home and protect his friends. He always has, since he’d first felt the weight of the heavy black kosado on his shoulders. He is the second son of nobility, he was born to know duty . Even if he prefers to be lackadaisy, even if he bends the rules until they’re twisted knots, and lets events take their course, he will follow the orders Yamamoto gives directly.

He and Juushiro were some of his first students, and they are the only ones left from their class for a reason. He is perhaps one of only five who remain to remember the wolf that Yamamoto truly is, for all he falls to heel at the call of the Central 46 now under the guise of a loyal dog.

He has seen the fight it had been for Yamamoto to establish the shinigami in the first days of their existence, when the foundations of the world had been shaky and the throne had been empty. He had been there for the first quincy war, one thousand years ago, and then again for the second only two hundred prior.

That one had hardly been a war. It had been a slaughter, and he had raised his sword to it just as he had been told.

Now a child stands before him, desperate to save a girl who he can’t have known longer than a summer. She is one of Juushiro’s, one of his favorites in fact. He knows he’s been grooming her to be his next lieutenant for the last forty years, since even before Kaien’s death.

(Privately he thinks it should be the two of them trying to protect her, but they have seen Yamamoto incinerate men, they have witnessed his bankai first hand. If he presses the issue, what chance do they have? They have gone to the Central 46 as captains and nobles and been turned away both times, in spite of the ancient laws.)

This child, Shunsui thinks while he bleeds from his shoulder down to his sternum, is frightening.

He is young. He is human, he cannot be more than two decades old. But it is his eyes that are the most unnerving.

They are not the eyes of someone who knows defeat. They are the eyes of someone who knows that defeat means death. The eyes of someone who has not been beaten by the merits of his simple being alive right now. The fact that he stands before him, with Shunsui’s blood on his sword, is a testament to that fact.

It’s been a long time since someone had done so well in one of his games. They’re never in anyone else's favor, but now Kyokotsu laughs somewhere in the back of his mind, his swords thrum in his hands.

Truthfully, Shunsui would rather not kill this child. He would rather not kill any of the children in front of him.

He knows Juushiro feels the same way. Killing Rukia would be like killing a part of him, too.

They’ve both sent petitions to the Central 46. Both as captains and as noblemen, but none have been answered. It’s a violation of their own laws, but then the Ryoka had come and their investigation had been cut short.

According to Nanao, little Hitsugaya has taken over for them.

Kyokotsu switches games, and Shunsui sinks into the shadows.

The boy is good, for all he is young. He’s been well trained, he thinks on his feet. He fights like there’s something missing.

And that red ribbon on Rukia’s wrist. Her new clothes. It’s interesting.

Shunsui has never seen anything like it. It’s almost like a pseudo bankai, forcibly unlocked by the child in front of him.

Yes, frightening is really the right word for it.

The games change. Ichigo catches on quickly to each one, to the rules and the ways they are both bound by them.

He’s also accumulating more injuries. Cuts on his arms, his back, his chest. Kyokotsu is fond of the boy. It’s rather unfortunate, really.

Shunsui feels bad when he goes in for a hard attack, an emotion he ruthlessly crushes down. He can’t afford to be worried about an opponent in a battle.

Ichigo barely moves back. He’s not fast enough to completely dodge the blade the cuts into his shoulder, just shy of his throat.

Rukia screams, so does the boy from the forth and kid that looks like a shinigami but probably isn’t.

Blood erupts from the split in his skin, a deadly strike if a slow one. It won’t be a quick death. It might not be a death at all if he can, say, get seen by the fourth division member that’s not twenty feet away in the next ten minutes.

Shunsui is broken out of that idea when white overtakes red and it is no long blood that splatters out of the child's body, but a paste that looks awfully familiar.

What in the hell?

A half an answer comes a minute later, when a hand grasps Katen by the blade and yanks Shunsui forwards so Ichigo can try to cleave him in half.

Shunsui blocks with Kyokotsu. The boys reitsu has changed. It was once light and brilliant, a small sun in his young chest. Now it lashes out darkly, black and tinged with red. The eye that turns upon him doesn’t match the other.

One brown. One yellow, rimmed first in black and then in white.

A hollow eye.

It’s only the fact that rules of their current game mean that Shunsui can’t be cut anywhere where his clothes aren’t white, and the fact that his haori and kimono are already off to the side that save him from the brutal counter slash. The boy is fast, his movements vicious and harsh.

Shunsui separates from the attack. He can feel the wind and the faint crackle of lightning that gives away the presence of the oncoming storm that is Shihoin Yoruichi.

She crashes into the platform and knocks Ichigo unconscious with something that looks suspiciously like a very large baseball bat.

She stands before them, two of the old guard, surrounded by children. She cannot take them all, and Ichigo’s reiatsu is still dark and dank, an ocean of shadows that even Shunsui is weary to tread into.

Kyokotsu laughs softly. She wants to play with this boy. Katen inches forwards, her true nature flickering at the edge of his soul. Pure and holy, she wants to split the boy’s darkness with light.

Shunsui cannot allow it. He smothers her in the darkness of Kyokotsu and bids her sink further into his soul, a burden he still bears with grace and secrecy.

“The lost lady of the Shihoin,” Shunsui greets with a smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your return?”

Yoruichi doesn’t answer immediately, and her playful smile is tight around the edges. Shunsui remembers when she and her brother were still just children at their fathers knee. Yukihira hadn’t even been going grey in the temples when he’d died. It seems all Shihoin lived short, fast lives. They are quick shadows that burn away in the light. Disowned or not Yoruichi is now one of the oldest Shihoin on record.

“You certainly did a number on the boy,” she says instead of answering. Kisuke is involved with this, somehow, the mask is proof enough. Just what do they want with Rukia?

This changes things.

The banishment of half the upper echelons of the gotei 13 had never sat right with Shunsui. It was too much too fast, and Kisuke had never struck him as the type. Not to say Kisuke was a good man, but he certainly was not a good enough liar to fool someone like Shunsui for so long, or Shinji for that matter.

If there weren’t strict orders against it, he might have hunted them down in the living world and demanded answers himself. But Yamamoto had made it clear. No one was to launch any further investigations into the hollowfication incident.

(Now he wonders again ; why?)

“He did trounce little Bakuya over there pretty badly,” Shunsui points out.

“So he did. I’ll be taking him now,” she warns. Her body tenses, ready to flee. Shunsui steps forwards and swings lazily at her head.

He slices through open air and a few stray purple strands of hair.

She’s slower now than she was before, he notes, but still fast enough to flee his field of influence before he can cut her down.

Now all that’s left to do is see to the wounded, figure out what to do with their little turncoats, figure out what’s possessed their central government, find out why a child has been hollowfied, unlock the strange mysteries of Rukia’s new powers, and possibly get drunk.

Easy breezy.

An explosion sounds from where Yoruichi has run off to, and Shunsui figures his plans may have to change.

* * *

Kon paces the basement of Ichigo’s strange house in his borrowed body, wearing a trail in the cement floor.

He’s surrounded on all sides by the strange things that Ichigo keeps in here, the magical artifacts and tools that he’s accumulated.

Amongst all of them is the plain brown box that Kon had found on a table upstairs.

The weirdo from the dreams, Merlin , swears he gave it to Ichigo. Kon would normally call Bullshit but honestly? It’s Ichigo.

There’s just something about that kid that makes him feel like anything is possible. Even gifts from dream men who smell like too many flowers and don’t give straight answers.

Kon arranges the thick crystals on the markings carved carefully into the floor. He’d tried to make it look exactly like the picture in the book, but he wasn’t an artist. It didn’t matter. Ichigo’s body seemed to know what they were doing without him having to tell it. He could feel a strange power thrumming through his borrowed skin.

It sunk in from the world around him, filling up the empty spaces in the bone marrow, in the muscles, in the very pores of his body.

This vessel knows what to do, even if Kon doesn’t.

He sets one of the other items in the middle of the circle. There’s six crystals that shine incandescently on each corner of the design.

“Use the stones first,” Merlin had said, his lilac eyes curved with some hidden joke, “ You’ll need Ichigo to use the last bit.”

The last bit being a scrap of cloth that he’d left in the box. It was same shade as his hair, and tattered at the ends. Kon left it where it was and set in the center of the circle two more stones. One was a red crystal. The other was dull grey, and shaped like the head of a small serpent.

Everytime he touches them Kon feels his fingertips tingle with something .

Kon picks up a paring knife.

On Ichigo’s palm is a long scar, one that’s been opened over and over again. Now, Kon presses the blade to the same thin white line until it splits neatly under the sharp edge.

Red wells up. He barely feels it. Ichigo’s pain tolerance is insane.

He holds his fist out over the circle and let’s Ichigo’s body do as it apparently knows to. Blood drips into the careful lines he’s made and it spreads with a vermillion glow that crackles faintly.

“Let Silver and Steel be the Essence…”

* * * *

“Again,” Ichigo touches his forehead. It throbs horribly. “Why the hell does this keep happening to me?”

His groan of pain is met with silence. He can touch his forehead so he’s not tied up. And he can feel pain so presumably he’s not dead. That’s good. If he dies he can’t keep his promises.

On the other hand, if he was dead he probably wouldn’t feel like he was chewed up and spit out again.

When he finally peels his eyes open, he finds himself in the ‘inside’ again. Vertical buildings, and pieces of himself in the form of places he’s gone. The water at the street is a bit deeper.

Ichigo rubs his head and squints around him.

“Zangetsu?” he calls, looking around. The old man is nowhere to be seen. There’s something familiar about this entire situation. He can taste chalk and blood. His chest aches. What the hell is going on here?

“Zangetsu!” he yells louder. No response.

Fine then. Maybe if he focused on his zanpakuto? Zangetsu was the manifestation of it right? Or something.

Ichigo closed his eyes and reached out, taking a deep breath.

He focused on the feeling of his sword in his hand. The cool metal until sturdy wrappings. The wicked blade. The weight of the weapon. The comfort of Zangetsu against his back.

He closed his hands around something and opened his eyes.

And nearly had a heart attack.

“What the fuck!?”

Standing in front of him, no holding his hand, was him . If he’d been sent through a bottle of bleach. His eyes, the other him’s eyes (fuck this was confusing) were bright, luminescent gold. Where there should be white was instead black. When the other him grinned his teeth weren’t as sharp as Ichigo felt they should be.

“Hey there, Partner.”

Ichigo extracted his hand warily. “Who the fuck are you?” He asked bluntly.

A flicker in the corner of his eyes came from the side. His head snapped to the side to see Zangetsu, the old man.

“Zangetsu.”

Ichigo looked back at the other him. The one who spoke. His head throbbed. His chest ached.

“Huh?”

“Ichigo.”

“Yes, yes. Ichigo, Zangetsu, whatever,” he waved his hands impatiently. “What the ever loving fuck is going on here? Why am I here? I was just fighting and- Did I get stabbed?” Ichigo patted down his chest. There was no blood, and it didn’t hurt.

The other him scoffed. “Damn you’re dumb. Yeah ya got stabbed!”

“Don’t be rude,” Ichigo said absently. He lifted his shirt. There wasn’t even a scar on his chest. Just the same red circle that had rested on his chest since he’d been speared through. It felt like an eternity ago. The longer the wars went on the harder it was to keep track of everything and everyone. Sometimes he felt like he mixed up the order of operations. Did he go to London first? Or Oceanus? Fuck.

“ I’m rude!”

Ichigo has to jump to avoid being stabbed by the sword Zangetsu. Now wielded by the other him, and also reversed in color.

“You’re the one that made us wait that long before you heard us, asshole!”

“Huh?!” Ichigo ducked and dodged each slash. Finally, Zangetsu (the man) blocked Zangetsu (the sword (except they were technically both swords (and this was making Ichigo’s head ache))) to stop the fight.

“Ichigo,” Zangetsu intoned. “You were being beaten. Badly. We cannot allow this to continue.”

“Okay,” Ichigo says slowly. “So you suck me out of consciousness and throw me here while everyone else is back there? What about Rukia and Hanataro and Ganju!”

“What about them?” the Other Him. White Ichigo maybe? Shirogo? Espejo? Nieve? Speaks up. He leans on his sword, looping his arm casually over the bite under the curve of the blade. “Why do you think we give a shit about your friends?”

Ichigo scowls. “If I go down we all do.”

“Exactly,” says Zangetsu. “We all die if you do. If you lose. We cannot lose, it cannot be an option. So you must become stronger. You can hear my voice now. You can wield my blade. But there is power inside of you that you do not know. Prepare yourself, Ichigo. We will make you stronger now.”

“To gain that strength, you must fight. Take your sword back from yourself.”

“Huh?!”

He only has a second to duck a sword strike at his head. Neive (he’s going with that for now. Snow) comes at him with a wild grin and vicious intent. A berserker who swings Zangetsu by the ribbon like a demented yo yo.

There’s something weird going on here. Ichigo knows it. He knows there’s something not right about this. The whole thing feels too familiar.

He doesn’t have time to contemplate it before he comes back at Neive with the best counters he can manage whilst unarmed.

Zangetsu is calm and methodical. Ichigo can see in him the commander, the strategist and the pragmatist that he has had to be when war clawed at his throat and shadowed his footsteps.

Neive is wild and vicious. Ichigo sees in him the desperate strength he’s drawn out at the last seconds, the hail mary victories that he's ripped from the claws of defeat time and time again.

The careful planning of Zangetsu, the intricate steps of a dance of strategy, falls away in the face of Neive’s brute forced, deadly strikes. He aims to win, even if he has to cut himself-who-is-Ichigo down to do it. Ichigo’s blood sings with it.

Even though he steps away from death, even though if he’s just a hair too slow he’ll lose his head, Ichigo has to stop himself from tipping his head back and laughing. Fighting like this, he feels almost free.

Almost.

He steps in close, suddenly, regardless of the fact that Zangetsu-the-sword cuts into his shoulder from the sharp curved heel. Blood dots the blue beneath their feet and Ichigo catch’s Neive’s arm between his hands. With a vicious twist that threatens to break his arm he’s forced to let lose the sword. The ribbon keeps it stuck to his wrist, and Ichigo twists his body until he’s back to front to Neive. He grabs the swords hand and swings it around until it’s a hair breadth away from both of their throats.

“What the fuck?” Neive asks, too loud in his ear.

Ichigo shoots him a crooked smile. “You only said I had to take it back.”

Neive stares at him, the angle awkward and painful to his neck. Finally, his doppleganger relaxes and legs the ribbon slip free. He steps back, letting Ichigo hold the sword on his own.

“Well I’ll be damned. Not bad, boss.”

“Why are you so surprised,” Ichigo hoists the blade onto his bleeding shoulder. “Aren’t we all part of the same person? Me?”

“So we are,” something in Zangetsu’s voice doesn’t sound entirely pleased about that. “You’ve done well.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Ichigo scowls at him. “There’s something wrong with the both of you, I want you to know.”

“By your own logic, there’s something wrong with you too,” Neive pointed out, far too cheerfully.

“Uh huh.” Ichigo rolls his eyes. “How was that supposed to make me stronger? It was a fight, I’ve been a million of them. “

Maybe more than that.

Zangetsu doesn’t answer right away.

Ichigo sits on the sideways building and motions the other him to do the same. Neive drops to his side, both of them criss cross and the blade long enough it covered both of their laps.

“Well?” he presses.

Zangetsu is not quite stoic enough for Ichigo to miss the way his mouth turns down and his shoulders draw together. He’s bracing himself for something.

“We are both… facets, of your power Ichigo. I needed to introduce you to him as well.”

“A simple hand shake wouldn’t do?” Ichigo scowled at him.

“We did shake hands,” Neive points out cheerfully.

“Not the point. Why the song and dance? Or are you all the drama in my soul too?”

Neive crows with laughter and slaps Ichigo hard on the back. Ichigo rocks with the force, hissing. His shoulder burns.

Zangetsu comes to crouch before him. He lays his hand on top of Ichigo’s shoulder and the pain eases minutely. The blood stops staining his shirt.

“What…?”

“I can stop your bleeding,” Zangetsu explains.

Ichigo nods, slowly. He remembers, faintly, injuries that weren’t as bad as they should have been, blood stains that were too small. Roman had commented on it once or twice.

“You’ve done it before, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

Ichigo looks between the two of them. Their words ring through his head.

“How long have you been with me?”

Neive grins. Zangetsu looks at him solemnly.

“ Always , Ichigo.”

* * * * *

It’s over.

It’s over and they’ve won. The price was high (it’s higher every time and Ichigo dreads the day that one of them does not return to Chaldeas) but they snatched victory away with bloody hands and desperation.

They’ve won. Nero is not there to celebrate their victory. Karna has faded away. Arjuna had never really been one of them but Ichigo knows they owe him. Billy the Kid. Geronimo. Scathach herself. All gone.

And how many yet to go, before this bloody conflict is ended? This is one war won, and three yet to go. They’ve come more than halfway, but done so by the skin of their teeth.

What else can they do?

Run?

Hide?

Chaldeas is the only safe place and even that can’t last forever. Even if it could, Ichigo would never stand by, safe within the walls.

Ichigo looks down at the cracked tile of the Whitehouse and finds the tips of his shoes glittering. The war is over. It’s time to go.

“Ichigo?”

He looks to Kyo. His impassiveness is finally gone. His expression is open and horrified.

“It’s time for us to leave,” Ichigo says solemnly. It’s time for you to forget .

“No!” Kyo lunges for him, grabbing his hand, and for the first time Ichigo can see it clearly. His brown eyes, wide and open, his hand grasping desperately at Ichigo’s sleeve. One feeling sings through the touch.

Loneliness.

The lion that stalks in Kyo(in Sousuke) ’s shadow. The yawning the maw of solitude.

He’d broken past it, Ichigo realizes. Had dragged him off of that isolated pillar that Sousuke stood so precariously upon and brought him to stand on solid ground surrounded by heroes and rebels, emperors and goddesses. And Ichigo, just a human.

His throat tightens. What kind of place is seireitei that someone like Sousuke is so utterly alone?

“I don’t have a choice,” he says. He’s gone up to his knees and the light is rushing swiftly to his midsection. Eating him up. He can feel the familiar pull of ray shifting.

“Find me!” Sousuke grips his hand all the tighter. “Promise me. Find me in the future! Make me remember!”

Ichigo feels his hand start to dissolve in his grasp and does his best to hold on for a few seconds longer

“I’ll find you.” He vows

Light glitters, air rushes, and the last thing he sees is the crushing sorrow on Kyos face.

(Ichigo will not break his promise)

* * * * * *

#Ichigo Kurosaki #bleach fanfiction #BAMF!Ichigo Kurosaki #Ichigo Kurosaki is Ritsuka Fujimaru #gin ichimaru #bleach #bleach/fate grand order #Merlin Fate/Grand Order #kyo (SCoF)#sosuke aizen #shunsui kyoraku #juushiro ukitake #rukia kuchiki

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myownworldstayout · 5 years

Text

New Friends Ch. 15

Ch.1 / Ch.14 / Ch.16

(So, I’m thinking I’ll just update these when I write them, ya know? but I’ll try to update at least every week- or every Sunday -if I fall behind)

“Felix, you should’ve seen yourself!” Wayhem exclaimed, practically buzzing with excitement. “You had this weird suit on and your hair was black and, man, your eyes they-”

“They were intense!” Aurore jumped in, flailing her arms around. As soon as school was over, the group was insistent upon giving Felix a detailed play-by-play on what he did under Hawkmoth’s control. Strangely enough, they seemed pretty proud of his work.

“You would’ve loved Lila’s look of horror when she spit out her tongue.” Kagami said calmly, though she held an air of amusement in her tone.

The blond in question nodded along absently, keeping his nose in his book. He didn’t appear to be too interested in learning about his akumatization.

Marinette bit the inside of her lip, shifting on her bedroom floor. She wanted to ask him if he was alright, but they hadn’t gotten a moment alone since they returned to the school earlier. Not only that, she really needed to go talk to Master Fu about their.. Situation.

“Marinette was awesome, as always, talking you down to let Chat Noir catch up with us.” Wayhem added, straightening with pride as he smiled at her.

Felix’s gaze flicked to Marinette at the comment, and she noticed the grip on his book seemed a little tighter than necessary.

“Speaking of which, how did Felix get akumatized?” Aurore asked thoughtfully.

Marinette glanced at Felix, trying to gawk a reaction on how she should respond. He didn’t give her any clues.

“He took the butterfly for me.” She finally said. “He used his book as a shield, but then got akumatized himself.”

Wayhem whistled. “And what an akuma it was! If it weren’t for you, Ladybug and Chat Noir might have never caught him.”

“I know right!” Aurore grinned. “I wonder what would have happened if they didn’t catch him, ya know? Fe as a villain makes a lot of sense, actually.”

A frown tugged at the corner of Marinette’s lips. Felix? As a villain? She didn’t even want to imagine it.

And from the way he tensed up next to her, she had a hunch he didn’t want to either.

“Felix could never be a villain.” She spoke up on his behalf.

Kagami chuckled. “I don’t know, Marinette. He certainly doesn’t seem like the hero type.”

“And look at today! I heard he even got Chat Noir to lose the ability to feel. Do you think Ladybug got hit?” Wayhem said eagerly. No one wanted the heroes to suffer, of course, but now that they knew everything was alright, it was fun to talk about it.

Aurore groaned. “Ugh, I wish you could remember what you did!”

Felix huffed, and Marinette barely caught the reply, “That makes one of us.”

Aurore and Wayhem both took a breath to continue their rambles when Luka cleared his throat.

“Hey, guys, it’s getting kinda late. We should probably get going so we can get our homework done.”

The group glanced out the window, seeing the sun just starting to set over the buildings.

Marinette smiled. She knew what Luka was doing, and she couldn’t be more grateful. How was he able to read them all so well?

“I think that’s a good idea.” Kagami agreed, catching onto the scheme and standing up.

A few extra looks from the two had Aurore and Wayhem on their feet as well.

“Oh, right, yeah. We were definitely assigned homework.” Wayhem nodded awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

“See you guys tomorrow!” Aurore waved, being the first to open the trapdoor and step down the ladder.

Everyone left single-file through the trapdoor. Until it was Felix’s turn.

“Uhm..” Marinette started, lightly touching his upper arm to stop him. She’d hoped he would pick up on Luka’s message and stay put. That would have saved some awkwardness. “Why don’t we go up to the balcony? For some fresh air?”

Felix looked down at her hand, contemplating her words.

“Alright.”

Marinette leaned on the balcony, feeling the cool metal against her arms. The red sun slowly slipped beneath the buildings, melting into an orange sky. The chatter of their friends grew faint as they traveled to their separate homes. She glanced at Felix, who was leaning on the balcony next to her. He still wouldn’t meet her gaze, choosing to watch the sky instead.

It wasn’t until they couldn’t hear the others talking anymore that she spoke.

“Are you.. Are you okay?” The question felt ridiculous. Felix obviously wasn’t acting like himself. Though she’d never been akumatized herself, Marinette knew how much it can affect people.

Felix didn’t respond at first, lowering his eyes to the sidewalk.

“I could have hurt you today.” His voice was so small, so soft, it made Marinette’s heart ache. It made her want to hold him close and tell him everything was fine, just like he did for her two days ago.

Felix sighed, shaking his head. “I thought I was helping. You.. being who you are..”

Marinette held back a laugh. “Being who she is”? That’s a good way of referring to her alter ego. She’d have to remember that.

“I knew you couldn’t get akumatized, but I didn’t think about what would happen if I got akumatized. All the things I did, all the things I could’ve done. And you were so close to me, I just..” He trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Who knows what I could’ve done to you.”

She couldn’t help the blush spreading across her cheeks. Even though Felix knew she was Ladybug, He was still thinking about her safety, her protection. He was upset because he could have hurt her.

And I love you for it. Her blush deepened when she remembered his words from earlier. She’d brushed them off because of the circumstances. People say crazy things all the time under Hawkmoth’s influence. But seeing him now… was it possible he meant it? What if Felix did love her? How would she even feel about that? Did she love him back?

Marinette drew in a breath to calm herself, hesitantly touching his forearm.

“For the record.. I don’t think you could ever hurt me. Even when you were akumatized, you didn’t touch me. Not as Marinette or Ladybug.”

She remembered the way he spoke to her, the way he looked at her so tenderly despite being filled with hatred and vengeance. No, Felix would never hurt her, would he? He actually cared for her, however hard that may be to see.

Felix finally met her eyes, and Marinette stared back. She hadn’t noticed the blue specks in his silver eyes until now.

Her heart skipped a beat when he carefully placed his hand on hers.

“Well, at least I had some sense about me during.. that time.” He murmured, turning away from her again. It was like he didn’t think he deserved to look at her anymore.

Marinette glanced down at their hands. The others always joked about it, but she never realized how protective Felix really was of her until now.

“I want to help.” He had said. He didn’t want her being Ladybug alone. He’d proven how serious he was about keeping that promise today.

“Felix, I want to take you somewhere, but it’s kind of far. How do you feel about heights?”

~~~~~~

Lila still found herself shifting her tongue in her mouth even hours later. Stupid Felix. Marinette was supposed to be the one akumatized! Not him! But of course he ended up taking the hit, huh? He just had to be her loyal lap dog till the end, didn’t he?

“I’m surprised we had to finish our classes today. That akuma was brutal.” She heard Nino sigh as she walked into the Clair De Lune cafe. Adrien, Alya, and Nino were having a study session to finish homework and talk. Naturally, she was invited as well.

“I know right! I couldn’t even get good footage of Felix because of that stunt he pulled.” Alya complained, swiping on her phone. Try as she might, Lila could hear the uneasiness in the reporter’s voice clear as day.

“Oh, that stinks. Maybe I can help you clear the footage later!” Lila joined in, sitting in the empty seat next to Alya. She ignored the way Nino switched looks with Adrien.

“Really? I didn’t know you could edit videos.” Alya said gingerly, also ignoring the boys’ reactions.

Lila scoffed, holding her head high with a smile. “Of course! How else do you think I helped Jagged Stone with his concerts, or got that charity event over the news?”

“Hey, Al, I thought you said you weren’t inviting Lila.” Nino suddenly whispered, lightly nudging his girlfriend.

Lila’s smile faltered at that. She almost had to look away to avoid glaring at him. Why was Nino getting skittish all of a sudden? She thought that offer to get him a solo act on TV had pulled him in for sure!

Alya rolled her eyes, setting her phone down on the table. “I already told you. It was a misunderstanding!”

“Uh, what was a misunderstanding?” Lila asked hesitantly.

The two turned to her, Nino with a frown and Alya with a sigh.

“Nino thinks your lying.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Yes you did!”

“Lying? Me?” Lila gasped, dramatically putting a hand to her mouth and batting her eyes.

“Yeah!” Alya answered before Nino could explain himself. “He says that since Felix said you were ‘spreading lies and filth’ that you’d lied somehow. I told him it was crazy, of course.”

Nino huffed, shifting his cap. “Felix was a truth akuma! Those kinds literally can’t lie!”

“He was a punishment akuma. He could have easily bent the punishments to fit his own delusions.” Alya shot back, crossing her arms.

While they were distracted with each other, Lila blinked several times, then widened her eyes as much as possible. She used up all of her eyedrops earlier so this would have to do.

“Guys, please, you don’t have to fight!” She cut in, flailing her arms a bit.

“It’s..it’s really okay. I understand why you’re upset, Nino. It only makes sense you’d think I’m responsible for the horrible things Felix did. He was akumatized because I outed him as a bully, after all.” Lila lamented, eyes wide and teary as she traced circles on the table with her finger.

Alya gasped in disbelief, sending a quick glare to Nino before grabbing Lila’s shoulder in comfort.

“Of course it’s not your fault! Felix is the one to blame here. That man’s a villain whether he’s akumatized or not.” She said bitterly.

Lila nodded, standing up nonetheless.

“Thank you, Alya. you’re so sweet! I wouldn’t want Nino to be uncomfortable, though..” She smiled sadly, hanging her head a bit and gesturing towards the capped boy.

As expected, Alya immediately turned to Nino, giving him a look. The DJ appeared to be disgruntled by it, but only sunk in his seat and put on his headphones.

“No, it’s not a problem. You can stay.” He grumbled.

Upon hearing the words, Lila immediately straightened and sat back down in her seat. Good. She still had Alya. Adrien didn’t say anything at all during the exchange, meaning she also still had him. Now, about getting Nino back..

~~~~~~

Ladybug held Felix tightly in her arms as she jumped from rooftop to rooftop. She thought he would be nervous when she suggested they travel in this manner, but to her surprise, he seemed completely calm. Actually, she could’ve sworn she saw a faint smile grace his lips when she made a particularly long leap. His arms hung loosely around her neck, unbothered even when she became unbalanced a few times from extra weight. He trusted her.

The thought warmed her heart. Felix trusted her. She vowed to show him that his trust wasn’t misplaced.

“Alright, We’re here.” She announced, landing in front of Master Fu’s massage shop. “I’m gonna go detransform real quick. Don’t go anywhere.”

Felix nodded, tentatively studying the building before them, and Marinette ducked into an alleyway nearby.

“What do you think Master Fu’s gonna say when you explain things to him?” Tikki said eagerly, taking a bite of the macaroon Marinette gave her.

“Hopefully he says ‘Yes’.” Marinette muttered to herself, signaling for Tkkki to hide as she walked out of the alleyway.

“Are you ready to go inside?” She asked Felix, situating her bag on her shoulder.

He nodded, stepping towards the door. “Yes, but why are we here?”

Marinette smiled, a certain eagerness reflecting in her eyes. “You’ll see.”

~~~~~~

Breath in.

Then breath out.

Breath in.

Then breath out.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Things were getting a little out of hand as of late. They still didn’t have any leads on Hawkmoth. Ladybug seemed to be getting more anxious, and Chat Noir.. he’s a steadily growing problem. Their dynamic as heroes was fine for the time being, but as civilians-

“Master! Ladybug is here!” Wayzz suddenly called out, right before a knock sounded on his door.

“Master? It’s Marinette. I came to talk to you about something.”

Unsurprising. She wouldn’t come to him if that wasn’t the case. Now, to decide exactly how important that something was. Perhaps she wanted to vent about Lila again, or maybe give some development about Adrien..

“Of course, of course. Come on in. you are always welcome here, Marinette.” He said warmly, standing to open the door for her.

A few whispers came from the other side, and when he pulled the door open, he noticed a blonde-haired boy accompanying her. The blonde looked to be around her age and had a strange resemblance to Plagg’s holder. They were probably related somehow.

Marinette smiled, giving a small bow. “Thank you, Master. Let’s talk in the room, if you don’t mind.”

Fu nodded and stepped to the side so she could pass. “Will your friend be joining us?”

She spare a glance to the boy. “He’ll come in later.”

“Someone found out my identity.”

Fu tried not to look panicked at the statement. Identity reveals cause a lot of problems, especially when they’re created on accident.

“The boy outside?” He assumed.

She nodded. “But it’s not what you think.”

A slight sense of relief. Maybe the reveal was on purpose then? Or something else caused him to find out? Either way, it was good to see Marinette so composed. It meant she had control of the situation.

“He wants to help us.” She then added.

..hm..interesting.

“Go on.” Fu prompted, lightly stroking his chin.

She quickly explained from the beginning, how she met the boy, their growing friendship, the reveal, his akumatization. Everything.

“I know we don’t normally do this,” Marinette said, subtly playing with the carpet on the floor, “but I think Felix has proven himself.”

Fu didn’t respond at first, considering her words.

“Permanent heroes can be risky. Are you sure he’s ready for this responsibility?”

“Absolutely.” Her tone was confident and certain with a clear determination blazing in her eyes.

Fu smiled. “Then I trust your judgement. Please, bring him in.”

~~~~~~

Felix shifted on the floor in the hall for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. He still had no idea why they were there, or why Marinette decided to become so cryptic all of a sudden.

Speaking of cryptic, who was the man that she greeted on the door? Why did she call him ‘Master’?

The doorknob turned, and Felix scrambled to his feet. The door swung open, revealing the old man from earlier. Marinette stood behind him, a bright smile on her face.

“Master Fu, this is Felix Culpa.” She introduced.

The man narrowed his eyes, looking Felix up and down. It felt odd being on the other end of a scrutinizing gaze.

He then smiled. “Nice to meet you, Felix.”

“Likewise.” Felix replied shortly, sparing another questioning glance to Marinette. Her smile didn’t waver.

The man- Master Fu, apparently? -waved his cane towards the room.

“Come in. There is much to talk about.”

Felix found himself following without much resistance. Something about the man’s demeanor told him there was no need for paranoia.

“It’s my understanding that you would like to help out.” Master Fu inquired vaguely as they sat down.

Another quick glance to Marinette.

“Yes, as much as I can.”

Master Fu gave a satisfied nod, then gestured to the ravenette next to them. “Ladybug’s made quite a vouch for you.”

Heat rose to his cheeks. She.. vouched for him?

“And I trust her judgement.” Fu continued. “Now it’s up to you.”

Felix didn’t miss Marinette’s small gasp when the man took off his turtle shaped bracelet and handed it to him.

“Felix Culpa, will you take the miraculous of protection and accept the responsibility to stay by Ladybug’s side in times of peril?”

Felix didn’t respond at first, turning it in his hand. It was hard to believe such a mundane object could hold so much power.

“Yes. I will protect her.” He finally answered, meeting Marinette’s gaze. “With my life.”

~~~~~~

Marinette practically skipped out onto the sidewalk. That went so much better than she expected!

“So what do we do now?” Felix asked next to her, still studying the miraculous on his wrist.

“Now, we train.” She answered, turning into the alleyway she de-transformed in earlier. “You need to get used to your new powers. So we’re gonna go on a small run through Paris, but be careful. I don’t want anyone finding out there’s a new turtle hero yet.”

The sun had set while they were inside. Therefore, they could use the night as a cloak for now. She didn’t want Hawkmoth getting wind of another permanent hero.

Felix didn’t bother asking for her reasons. “How do I transform?”

“Just say, ‘Wayzz, Shell On’!” Wayzz spoke up, flying up to Felix’s side. It had been a special surprise for Marinette when Master Fu gave up his miraculous. She supposed it made sense, though, with Felix being so protective.

Felix said the magic words, and a shimmering, green light washed over him.

His costume had similarities to Carapace’s. He still had the shell shield on his back, the same goggles, and color scheme, but there were also differences. For example, Felix’s hood was down, resting on his shoulders instead of his head. Dark green patches stretched across his elbows and knees, emphasizing the mini turtle shells strapped wrapped around them. The last difference was the dark green rings around his wrists and ankles. Overall, he looked..

“Impressive. What’s your name?”

Felix hummed, running his hands through his hair, which looked about the same in and out of costume.

“Buclier.” He decided, nodding to himself in silent confirmation. “Yeah, Buclier.”

Ladybug smirked. “Alright, ‘Buclier’, ready to show me what you’ve got?”

~~~~~~

Alya blew out a sigh as she opened the cafe door. She couldn’t believe how long it took to finish their homework. It was already night time!

“What did you guys get for number five again?” Nino asked behind her, holding his notebook with a confused expression.

Alya playfully groaned, looking up at the clear, starry sky with a smile. “Nino, for the hundredth time, it’s-”

A shadow passed over head.

“Did you see that?”

“See what?”

Another shadow passed.

“That!” Alya shouted, grabbing Nino’s arm and pointing to the spot she saw them. The first shadow definitely had a bit of red in it. Maybe it was Chat Noir and Ladybug on patrol again!

“Alya, I don’t see-”

Nino was cut off by a yank from Alya, who was dashing in the direction the shadows went. She didn’t see Ladybug during today’s akuma, and Felix got in her way the time before. There was no way she’d pass up another opportunity like this!

They wound through the streets of Paris, Alya fumbling to take out her phone and Nino shuffling behind her.

“I don’t think we should be doing this.” Nino mumbled uneasily.

Alya waved him off. “Why not? Ladybug obviously doesn’t mind. She even- oh look, there they are!”

She felt Nino bump into her when she suddenly stopped, but Alya was too focused on the pair ahead of her to mind. They stopped on a rooftop together and seemed to be talking. She wished she was close enough to hear them.

Raising her phone, Alya focused the camera on the two. Thanks to the city lights, She was able to see their figures, but nothing more. She started recording anyway, about to begin her usual greeting when something stopped her.

“Wait, who is that?”

“Who is who?” Nino responded, leaning around her to get a better view.

A third person, one with a tail and a familiar pair of ears. It was Chat Noir, but that didn’t make any sense. If that was Chat Noir, then who’s the other person that Ladybug’s talking too? A new hero? There weren’t any akumas out though..

What was going on?

~~~~~~

Buclier did his best to keep up with Ladybug. Knowing this hero of Paris was also his clumsy classmate helped him not to feel too embarrassed when he slipped on a few rooftops every now and then. It didn’t help the mini heart attacks, though. You’d think the shoes to this suit would have more friction.

“Hey, you’re doing pretty good.” Ladybug complimented, stopping on a random rooftop to catch her breath.

“Well, I’ll certainly need more practice.” Buclier sighed, reaching up to fix his turtle shell. There was nothing wrong with it. He just felt a bit awkward having something on his back. The shield was surprisingly light.

For convenience in battle. He reasoned.

Ladybug shrugged, straightening to look at the night sky. “I think you’ll pick it up easily. You’re already really flexible, for some reason.”

“My mother didn’t put me through ballet for nothing.”

Ladybug blinked. “Wait, you take ballet?”

“Since I was six.” Felix confirmed.

“How did I not know about this?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but a certain alley cat interrupted him.

“Okay! I’m here!” Chat assured, landing between them and holding his staff at the ready. “Where’s the akuma? Or emergency or whatever? Why didn’t you call me, Bugaboo?”

Something about Chat calling Marinette ‘Bugaboo’ didn’t seem to sit right with Felix, but he ignored it. They were going to be a team now, after all. They needed to learn to work together, for Ladybug’s sake.

“Uh.. because there isn’t an emergency.” Ladybug replied. “Chat, this is Buclier. He’s going to be a permanent hero, now.”

Chat frowned, confusion spreading across his features as he put his staff away. “Permanent hero? I thought we didn’t do that. And what happened to Carapace?”

Ladybug winced. “There were.. Difficulties.”

Felix wondered what she meant by that. “Difficulties”. Although he knew her identity, Marinette had yet to reveal the other miraculous secrets to him that she knew. He didn’t mind. She would tell him when she- or he -was ready.

“Anyway, I talked with Master Fu. He agreed that this was a good course of action. If we have another hero behind the scenes, we might be able to defeat the akumas faster and find out where Hawkmoth is hiding.”

Chat glanced between Buclier and Ladybug, not appearing to be fond with the idea.

“I guess..” He finally relented. “So we keep this a secret then?”

Ladybug nodded. “Yes, for now.”

Chat Noir nodded as well, shifting to get a better look at Buclier.

“Well, welcome to the team, but just so you know,” He wrapped his arm around Ladybug’s shoulders, “LB and I are super close. So don’t get too comfortable.”

Yeah, that definitely didn’t sit right with Felix.

“Chat!” Ladybug scolded, slipping out of the heroine’s grasp.

“What? It’s true.” Chat Noir defended, crossing his arms like the petulant child Buclier decided he was.

“Thank you for the welcome, but I believe Ladybug was trying to ‘show me the ropes’.” Buclier spoke up, subtly stepping more between Chat and Ladybug like Chat had done moments earlier.

“He’s right!” Ladybug agreed, effectively cutting the cat off. “We should get going. See you later!”

She threw her yo-yo out and swung away before anyone could object. Felix followed, not acknowledging Chat’s glare as he left. It appeared this team-up was going to be a bit more rocky than he had hoped.

Tag List: @unabashedbookworm @bluerosette23 @minightrose@kuroko26@im-here-for-the-content @angstyrastuff @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanboy7794@choaticneturcl @bigcheeseyboi @burntnugget-tae @ayuchan07@honorisfortheweak @knightrose15 @mjisntme@rhub4rb @simplythebestbug@wilhelmares@zebrabaker@dargeon-lissa @kristycocopop @alumneia @kaydenth3gayden @thornangelic727 @flirtshobi @whatamessofwords @offically-over-it @flashflashitsash @thewingting @aegyobutpsycho2 @zoeytheweeb @zeyheartstaylor @friedchickening

#Felinette #Felix Culpa #New Friends AU

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typewriterghcst · 4 years

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Title: A Very Small Wish Fandom: The Cat Returns Characters: Baron, Muta, Toto, Haru, plus some OCs Rating: PGish maybe?? Words: 2797 Summary: A pleading request from a parent whose daughter has been cursed by a resentful witch is nothing truly out of the ordinary for the Cat Bureau— in fact, it might be so common so as to be routine— so why does something feel inherently off about this particular one? Notes: Second chapter of six of a Secret Santa gift for @deedee-sunflowers. I had the realization that it actually takes a Bit for the witch part of this to show up, and I apologize for that orz That said, I'm so glad you liked it! Especially that they're all in character and that Vanya is interesting, aha. I worry a lot that he might be too grating, bc I definitely get a lot of enjoyment out of writing those kinds of characters, but I don't want them to also be irritating to sit through rip Anywho, a chapter in which Haru has a chat with a beloved monster i’m sorry that was a very vague shrek reference

Ch. 2: Virtuous Siree

She might be hesitant to admit it, but Haru is almost disappointed to meet the cursed daughter, having halfway convinced herself in her unshakable unnerved skepticism that the Vanya creature had crafted her existence wholesale from lies and nothingness. Yet here she is, standing before them with her hands (hands? it’s hard to tell) folded in a mannerly fashion in front of her. Her long, golden veil is in much better shape than her father’s handkerchief, though the odd snag and rip is perhaps inevitable when one is in possession of what appears to be a pair of curly horns.

She is otherwise far from inconspicuous, as well; the gauzy shroud masking her person still reveals the aforementioned horns, and a pointed snout, and little hands adorned with inch-long claws. A long, hairless tail snakes out from behind her, curling at her feet like a sleeping dog.

Perhaps the most pressing thing, however, is that the same uneasy chill runs through Haru within this strange, half-concealed child’s presence as it does when her father is around. For the first time, she wonders if it’s not, in fact, her blunted human instincts furiously trying to warn her of Vanya’s true nature and simply a facet of his kind’s existence.

Vanya wanders into her line of sight again, standing beside his daughter with a laughably manic, skittish energy and reaching for her clawed hand. Haru notes the two are very nearly the same height. Yet, to hers (and probably the Bureau’s surprise, as well), he appears to have little trouble lifting her off the ground and holding her out to them, as if he’d worried they wouldn’t understand just how truly monstrous she’d become should he not bring her closer to their eyelines.

“This is my daughter, Virtuous Siree.” He seems to take a certain, special glee in saying so. “She is exquisitely cute! Like a baby. I’ve had her for years now.”

Virtuous Siree, though her face is obscured by the veil, seems unbothered by this treatment, inclining her head politely to their guests.

“Pleased to meet you.” Her voice echoes much like a lonely call in an empty stairwell, resulting in the definitively disorienting effect of two separate people speaking in unison.

“...And you, as well.” Baron is the first to recover from the oddness of the situation, removing his hat and bowing, and the rest of them follow suit shortly after (sans Muta, anyway, who gives a more characteristically terse greeting).

“Thank you, by the way,” Virtuous Siree then continues, as casually blithe as her father. “For taking the case. We are beyond aromatized to have obtained your assistance!”

Behind her, Vanya utters a noise somewhere between a squeal and a sob, and then hugs her close to him. “Cute! She’s too cute! Virtuous Siree, did you have a good day today?”

“Yes, Papa, I worked in the garden. The cherries are ripening on the vine! And I started a new painting when I was done.”

“Your funny prickly face horns are sticking me through my fur!” Yet, he appears to make no motions to pull away. (Haru sneaks an amused look at Muta; sure enough, the mystified frown on his own face makes it clear he’s as lost about how to feel about this interaction as she’d expected him to be.)

“How far of a journey is the Sown Forest from here, Vanya?”

The fox glances at Toto only from the very corners of his eyes at first, but the expression lacks even the most minuscule hint of suspicion. He pulls his face away from Virtuous Siree’s veiled one, placing her back on the ground with a happy coo.

“I can’t tell you how far, but it will take….” Here he counts futilely on his tiny paws again. “...eighteen-twenty minutes!”

“...You mean, eighteen to twenty minutes?”

Vanya hesitates, and here, now, it becomes obvious he’s beginning to pick up on Toto’s skepticism. When he answers this time, he’s back to his by now expected plaintive offense.

“Time works differently in Oostal! I’m only a little creature from Oostal, and I don’t know your Earthical time measurements!” He cries.

“Papa’s trying his best,” Virtuous Siree interjects with the modest passion one might expect from a shy girl her age, patting her father on the paw.

“To focus on the pretty Vanya Creature’s tenuous grasp of a time he’s never used before when his cute daughter is at risk of being cursed forever!”

“Yeah, birdbrain, that’s real heartless of ya,” Muta can’t help but add (a marked testament to how much he enjoys antagonizing the crow, if even his antipathy for the Vanya creature doesn’t see him pass up the opportunity.)

“But if time works differently, how are we meant to keep track of how long we have?” Toto asks, side-eyeing Muta with no small degree of smug amusement. (For his part, Muta seems uncertain whether to take this abrupt subject change as a surrender or a snub.)

“Use a pocket watch,” is Vanya’s dismissive reply.

Baron finds himself rather suddenly the object of vested interest for three pairs of eyes; Muta, Haru, and Toto all three almost instantly turn to him. He looks from each one to the other in moderate bemusement for mere seconds before his shoulders relax in a subtle show of resignation.

“Yes, I have one with me.”

“Wouldn’t have been you if you didn’t,” Toto teases with a smile.

“Of course,” Baron deigns to play along with a faintly put-upon tone.

“Where’s that witchy paper you said you got, anyway?” Muta asks Vanya. “The one that says it’s okay for you to get help from strangers. Don’t think I forgot about it,” he ends with crabbily.

“I left it on the table!” Vanya replies with a matching huff, less than humored by Muta’s skepticism.

Here Virtuous Siree jumps to contribute, expression molded into a contrite, abashed frown, “Oh, no— Papa, those papers got blown away earlier today! I-I opened the door to go out into the garden, and a bigly strong gust blew in!”

“Seriously—?”

“They blew up into the surrounding trees,” Virtuous Siree continues, more chastened than before in the face of Muta’s apparent exasperation, a reaction which seems to give the cat some considerable pause. “I couldn’t reach them.”

Vanya pats her head.

“It’s no significant loss that they did! We can search for them when I go to pick up the leg up in our sleeves.”

The perplexed silence which settles after Vanya’s words lingers heavily, but at least only briefly.

“Oh,” Toto first responds with a dawning amusement and the slightest of laughs. “You have something in mind to help make these tasks less of a struggle.”

Vanya nods enthusiastically, giving no indication of having discerned their earlier confusion, nor why Toto then felt the need to clarify. His tail, also, curls into an excitable question mark shape before relaxing again.

“It will take just a moment— I hid it in the root cellar with the other cates.”

“And the root cellar is—?”

“At the edge of the property, by the fence.”

“Very well. It shouldn’t take us long, I think, but we ought to depart right away. Please lead the way, Mr. Vanya.”

“I’ll stay here,” Haru speaks up. “I’d feel a little bad leaving Virtuous Siree all alone again, even if it is just a few minutes— I don’t mind keeping her company. I mean—” Here she turns to the girl herself with a sheepish expression, hands folded bashfully behind her back. “ —if she doesn’t mind my company, of course.”

“I don’t mind!” Virtuous Siree responds with a resolute shake of her head.

“Good, goods!” Vanya agrees in delight. There’s yet another almost cat-like expression of affection from him, rubbing his cheek against Siree’s as he swings their joined hands. “Play nice, Cute Siree. We’ll be back before you know it!”

&&&

The little house in which Vanya and Virtuous Siree have made their home is in all honesty not all that strange to Haru. At least, in the sense that it has walls and doors and windows, and furniture with purposes that are easy enough to grasp upon laying eyes on them. Yet two things still stand out to her as unusual.

The first is that the walls, if not the house entirely, give the rather distinct impression that the entire thing had been carved from an enormous gourd or another hardy vegetable of sorts. When Haru furtively lays a hand on one of the few unoccupied walls, she finds she can’t discern the material by sight or touch.

The outside of the house hadn’t struck her as so outlandish. It certainly hadn’t appeared to be a massive vegetable.

The second, as previously alluded to, is that almost every available surface is buried beneath an arbitrary variety of countless objects— threadbare coats, rusted silverware, broken trinkets.

Distantly, Haru recalls Vanya’s pithy words regarding his shattered teacup— waste not. Seems he kept that particular aphorism close to his heart.

Vanya’s daughter has claimed a spot at the round table in the middle of the room, perched precariously on a wobbly stool with a set of messy watercolor paints and a well-worn brush.

Her face is still hidden, but Haru can still tell her companion (Virtuous Siree, as her father has stubbornly referred to her, and it’s still a terribly odd name to Haru) is shyly stealing glances at her, one after the other, before quickly looking away again, back to her painting.

“Can I draw something, too?” Haru eventually asks to divert the tension.

Virtuous Siree jumps on the distraction. “Oh, yes! You can! Papa always keeps plenty of paper and paints around for me!”

The girl jumps off her stool and scurries to a cabinet across the room, behind a pile of ostensible scarves and socks (the cabinet itself also piled high with an unimaginably diverse array of items— hairbrushes, hats, and tattered books, just to name a few.) In a snap, Virtuous Siree has an identical spot to her own set up at the table beside her for Haru.

“Here you are! Would you like a flat or a round brush..?”

Haru, having never been much a painter, finds herself somewhat stumped at the question, glancing back and forth between the two brushes for a half-minute before sheepishly speaking up. “Actually, this is silly, but do you have anything more fit for an amateur? I don’t do much drawing, and I’d hate to waste some of your good materials.”

Virtuous Siree laughs, a short, girlish noise that quite comically clashes with her unnatural-sounding voice, and waves her hand. “Don’t be silly, I have plenty of materials. You can’t waste them if you used them to do something fun.”

“O-Oh… Well, I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“If you want to start slow, though, hmm…” Virtuous Siree scampers across the room again, stooping to look in her cabinet; Haru hears her shuffle various objects around as she searches for something specific. “Oh! I have some wax crayons. They’re a little used, though.”

“Oh, that’s okay. They’ll be perfect.”

It’s when Haru is settled again, this time staring down at a sheaf of brown, grainy papers— thick, heavy, with a distinct weave to the tiny fibers that must make up the sheets— that she finds herself beset by another stumbling block. She hasn’t drawn anything since she was a child, and those childish scribbles had consisted mostly of attempts at whatever animals had caught her eye.

Absently, she wonders if her skills have managed to budge past their old level. Probably not. But, there’s no time like the present to find out, she supposes. She’ll try drawing Baron.

“What does the name Virtuous Siree mean?”

Virtuous Siree gives a pensive noise. “You don’t have to call me Virtuous Siree. Just Siree is fine. Only Papa calls me Virtuous Siree-- he added the first part a little while ago.”

“Okay, Siree, then. If you like, you can call me just Haru.”

“I’ll do that!” Then, remembering what Haru’s original question was, she adds diffidently, “‘Siree’ is just a filler word in Oostal’s language, but it has a-- umm, an implication of emphasis. It’s what you use to boost the feelings in what you’re trying to get across when you can’t remember a word.”

Haru pauses in her attempt to color in one of Baron’s eyes. “Does that mean your name with the addition of ‘Virtuous’ is kind of like saying ‘really virtuous?’”

“It is!” Siree admits with an almost embarrassed laugh. “Papa’s very silly sometimes.”

To herself, Haru thinks that sounds like yet another vast understatement.

“...Have you ever dealt with witch’s magic before?” Virtuous Siree asks.

“Not…. witch’s magic, no. At least, I don’t think so. But I was transformed into a cat once,” Haru says, carefully drawing a spiral on her paper with a yellow crayon (her interpretation of the sun. It won’t do to put crayon scribble Baron into a rainy, sad environment, after all).

“What’s a cat?” Siree asks.

“Oh— um. It’s an… an animal from my world. They look a little like your father, but a little bigger. Oh! Actually, Muta and Baron-- well, Muta is a cat, but Baron just looks like one.” Then, abruptly remembering Siree has been cursed and must therefore look quite similar to her father under normal circumstances, Haru hastily adds, “I-I guess they’d look like you, too, wouldn’t they?”

Siree nods slightly, even though she hasn’t looked away from her own painting. When she speaks, her voice is soft, shy again.

“They're cute. I wish I could be cute, too, like Papa. Or, um, like I was.”

Somewhere, that gentle, beseeching string of words tugs at an old fear, one that had been allayed rather completely with the return to her normal form but not altogether forgotten— that of losing her familiar reflection. What was on the inside ultimately wouldn’t have changed, and there had always been little flaws in her human appearance she could have spent hours complaining about, but… in the end, her face, her humanness, had been held more dear by her than she could ever have realized without being transformed against her will.

“Don’t worry,” Haru finds herself saying. “Baron and the Bureau managed to rescue me from becoming a cat. They’ll do the same for you, no problem. You just wait. You’ll be your old self in no time.”

Siree’s brushstrokes slow and then stop altogether. She moves so that Haru knows she must be studying her thoughtfully, and the very knowledge of Siree’s no doubt unblinking, pensive gaze trained intently on her is enough to give her goosebumps again.

“...You’re very kind,” the girl eventually remarks. Then, finally looking away (Haru’s pretty sure, at least), she adds, “I like that. I hope you make it out safe.”

“I have the Bureau,” Haru says surely. “I’ll be fine.”

“Well, I hope they stay safe, too,” Siree adds.

As if wise to the fact they’d been the subject of the past few moments of conversation, the Bureau (accompanied, of course, by Vanya) arrive just seconds after with the familiar sound of the beginnings of an altercation between Muta and Toto. Vanya again wastes little time in hugging Siree.

“You’re back,” Haru says in the meantime. “Are we good to go now, then?”

“Yeah,” Muta breaks off his disagreement with Toto to answer with a shrug. “Whatever the pipsqueak picked up, it didn’t take long.”

“It’s a surprise!” Vanya protests, turning a haughty gaze upon Muta. Then, thoughtfully, he amends, “...A good surprise.”

Haru, thinking of Vanya’s original haste in returning to his daughter, and seeing perhaps the same veiled concern in Baron’s and Toto’s faces, nudges the avian Creation beside her, and… well, bless him, Toto takes very little time to speak up for them all.

“Will Virtuous Siree be alright here all by herself?”

Vanya rocks back and forth a few times, dragging poor Siree with him (though she seems unbothered, at least). “Yes, yes, Virtuous Siree is safe here. There are neighbors! ...In fact, if she feels scared, she should go next door to Mr. Gleb.” This spoken directly to Siree, despite the odd choice in phrasing.

“I will, Papa,” Siree answers without hesitation.

It’s here that Vanya lets her go with one last delighted chirrup, bounding over to the door and the Bureau and darting outside. Before following suit (...somewhat), Haru turns back to the girl and flashes her a reassuring smile.

“Bye, Siree! Stay safe, and don’t worry— we’ll get you all fixed up.”

“I know you will!”

As far as Haru can tell, Siree continues waving until they can’t see each other, and something about the dedication instills a certain amount of similar sentiments in Haru.

#the cat returns #secret santa

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