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#of course she would accept silence's anger and fear without protest
kurozu501 · 2 years
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Final Rhine lab manga chapter even addressed whether or not saria was going to stab ifrit in that moment with the knife and ended on an emotional conversation between her and silence, this manga really did give us everything.
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jordanstrophe · 3 years
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War of Royalty
Yay! It's done!
CW: Slavery, medieval whump, whipping and branding referenced, noncon stripping (again, nonsexual)  taken in by royalty, whumpee thinking fluff is punishment, intimate caretaker, forcefully carried, begging 
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The king held a golden goblet in the palm of his hand, occasionally glancing from the ambassador to the boy at his right hand. He was visibly trembling as all eyes at the banquet were glued on him, tracing his scars, staring at the healing whip marks curling over his shoulders. The king however, just kept looking longingly into his face. 
“Are you not hungry, Eden?” He asked, nodding towards his overfilled untouched plate. “No! It’s n-not that, your majesty, It’s just... sh-should I not be serving you? I should be refilling your wine, or washing plates.” Eden tucked his head waiting for the hand to dig in his hair or a strike to the back of the head... But alas, he just laughed.
“Nonsense! I want you here.” He raised his goblet before bringing it to his lips. Eden hoped his red cheeks weren’t as visible as they felt. “Then tell me, what's something about you? What hobbies have you dabbled in?” He asked. “I... used to set up picnics in the field for my master when he was tired.” Eden let a smile creep across his face at the once happy memory. 
“A picnic mm? That sounds delightful.” He painted a grin on his face before waving the guard over. “What on earth is a picnic?” He whispered. “Ahh, it’s like a feast.. but outside and on the ground, my lord. It’s quite dreadful.” The guard whispered back. “A feast... In the ground, eh?...” The king muttered to himself, stroking a hand through his beard. 
He then noticed half the table was more indulged in the boy than their own plate as Eden had sunk further into his seat. The king took a breath, before leaning towards the guard. “Then set up this picnic for the boy and I.” He spoked. “Wh-what? My lord, that’s far too dangerous! We would have to set up a wall of guards protecting you!” He protested. The king slowly cranked his head till they made eye contact. 
“Then do it.” He hissed. 
-
Eden’s legs trembled as he was walked down the corridor on the king's arm. “Your majesty, why are we leaving early?” Eden asked. "That’s a surprise.” He smiled, unaware that his words only pierced more fear into the boy's heart. 
The gates leading the courtyard swung open, revealing a sea of guards fully armored in a perfect circle around the hill. Their backs were to the center as they faced outwards, their swords centered with their body at their feet. Eden instantly tensed in horror, knowing this process all too well; the stake in the ground, the crowd gathering to watch the whipping, the cheering and laughter at his every cry.  
“Y-your majesty wait!" Eden begged, crumbling to his knees while pressing his forehead to his feet, mumbling pleas and apologies. “Calm yourself, boy. You’ve done nothing wrong.” He soothed, but it was like his lips were running without him. “Eden! Look at me.” The king finally commanded, his voice raising to a level he had never heard before. He then snapped his fingers as two guards stepped aside, revealing an embroidered blanket with full plates in the center.
“wha-?” Eden shyly looked up at the king. “You’re not taking me to get whipped?” He blinked. “Ah-of course not! Why would you think that?” The king couldn’t hold back a laugh as he grabbed Eden’s elbow. “I thought you might like some privacy. I could use some as well after all these war meetings over sea. I just got home! I want to relax for a night.” His arm tightly wound around the boy's arms, practically pinning them to his sides.
He plopped him down on the blanket across from him, struggling to get comfortable, although it wasn't half as miserable as the king was expecting.  Eden's eyes kept nervously glancing at the wall of guards, but his chin was tilted back. "Don't look at them, look at me." The king smiled, handing him sliced fruit from the plate. Eden accepted it as he huffed a sweet, real smile.
-
“My lord, did you enjoy the banquet?” Madeline asked, bowing before refilling his glass once more. “A bouquet is business for a king my dear, but the picnic with the boy was quite nice. I just wish he wasn’t so frightened, he expects a slap across the face every time I look at him.” He puzzled. 
“He’s quite well behaved, is he not? I think we were all expecting a handful with all those scars, especially that burn on his chest.” She said as she fixed the last winkle on his bed. 
“... What burn on his chest?”
There was deafening silence in the room as the servant's face drained from all color. 
-
The gates slammed open as two guards held each of the boy's arms, dragging him into the throne room. “Please wait! What's going on?!” Eden cried, his feet could hardly touch the ground as his toes grazed the carpet. His tearful eyes found the king sitting on his throne, his face painted with dread as he rested his chin on his hand. He didn’t look up when the guards held the slave before him. 
“Wh-what’s happening?” Eden panicked, seeing the woman from earlier, her face staring at the floor red with guilt. 
“Strip him.” The king muttered, his eyes averting Eden's horrified gaze. 
“-what?” He gasped, his pupils dilated before two hands ripped the clothes off his back, it’s tattered white pieces falling around his feet. He let out a choking cry, turning his head from the countless eyes that widened. The room instantly erupted with anger when the brand became visible; the brand of an illegal trade set up by his previous master. 
“This is treason!”
“An insult to our kingdom!”
“Who did this to the boy? I’ll have their head!”
“SILENCE!” The king ordered. The room fell silent aside from Eden’s crying. 
He rose from his throne, approaching until his hand reached the boy's cheek. “Look at me.” He spoke, feeling him tremble in the palm of his hand. 
“I can’t.” Eden rasped, hiding his face within the king's hand. He choked on a sob when he was suddenly pulled into the king's chest, the guard's grasp disappearing as he was held by nothing but the king's gentle embrace.
“Who did this to you?” He gently whispered in his ear, curling a hand in Eden’s hair. 
“I-... I can’t!” He sobbed, burying his face into the fur of the king’s robes. He felt him sigh a long, disappointed sigh. Then, the comfort was taken away, falling back into the harsh grasp of the guard's cold metal hands. 
“Return Eden to his chambers, let him rest for the night.” His hand lingered on his cheek for a moment as he blindly leaned into it, before it slipped away. "Send the four horsemen! I want whoever owned this slave to be found immediately! Turn every stone on its back! Tear the city apart if you have to!” He hissed, swinging his cloak around before collapsing back in his throne. 
“I want their head for what they've done to this boy...” 
ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ Thank you for reading!~ @tears-and-lilies  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @starnight-whump  @bumpthumpwhump @whumpcreations @myst-in-the-mirror @heathenville (ahhh, If I forgot a tag, I am so very sorry, give me a poke and I’ll fix it right away)
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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years
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This Is New For Me
Loki x Reader
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Summary: Life on Asgard can be straining - especially if the God of Mischief has taken a liking to you.
Warnings: Loki being so terrible at flirting it physically hurts, bullying, this got way angstier than I initially intended
Words: ~2800
A/N: I’ve written this trying to distract myself from personal problems, but honestly I can’t think straight rn. Dunno I kinda hate how this turned out but here you go I guess...sorry.
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Loki Odinson must really despise you.
No matter how often Thor would stand up for his brother and try to justify his behavior, there was no other explanation for you other than that he must truly hate you with every essence of his being.
In the beginning, having been invited in the palace to train magic under the Allmother sounded like a once-in-a-lifetime chance - yet all that’s left from your initial excitement had been replaced by pure annoyance.
Lately, whenever you knew that you had to attend class with that certain raven-haired prince, your insides would churn before you even arrived.
Weeks have turned into months, never once ceasing his condescending remarks or childish pranks. Of course, he wasn’t called the God of Mischief for nothing.
All nine realms had tales to tell about his sheganinans - yet with you, he seemed especially invested. There was not one encounter where he could leave you at peace, always ending with you being victim to his wicked humor. 
The man did not seem to respect you at all - and it made you furious.
Today, you’d show him just what you were capable of!
“Greetings, great Allmother.” Polite as always, you bowed deeply in front of your queen, her magnificent presence still making you jittery beyond belief.
“No need for formalities, my lovely student” she responded heartily, only making you admire her even more - until a loud, exaggerated sigh cut through the calm atmosphere.
“Her again?” There he stood, maintaining his defensive pose as he rolled his eyes at you. “Mother, why would you keep on bringing a lowlife like her to defile this holy place?”
This was probably the millionth time that Frigga apologized deeply for her son’s behavior, and you were always amazed by her patience with him. How could a person so formidable end up raising such a troublemaker?
But then again...if she believes that there is good in the God of Mischief, then so would you.
“For today, I have prepared a spell that can only be cast by two mages at once”, Frigga explained, while Loki would still not bid you a single look. “So throughout this lesson, you will need to work together to succeed.”
Irritation was clearly visible on his face - and if you were perfectly honest, you weren’t really fond of that idea either. Yet if it was your scolar’s wish, none of you would protest.
“Spontaneous creation of complex concepts puts a huge stroll on one’s mind and body, so do not be frustrated if it doesn’t work within the first try.”
The idea was simple: Create a blooming meadow in midst of the palace floor, since creating life would be way too complex - only masters of the sorcery arts could take this spell to completion.
You and Loki were now sitting on the bare floor in front of each other and only now you realized how tense he had become, sweat dripping from his forehead and biting his bottom lip.
Was your presence really so terrible that he couldn’t bear with it?!
“Hey” you whispered, taking his hands to form a ring just as instructed “Don’t worry, we’re gonna get this!”
“I don’t need your encouragement...” he spat between gritted teeth, now that you noticed his palms were just as sweaty as his face seemed to be.
One second. Two, tree...fourty....a hundret and two...
“Relax” Loki repeated to himself as if it was his mantra - but now, with your fingers entangled in his? Sheer impossible.
Distraught, he shot his mother a desperate look, just for her to point  towards you, sitting cross-legged and seemingly completely relaxed.
Since your eyes were closed, Loki took this chance to observe every detail of your face, without having to fear that you’d notice his little infatuation.
By the norns - you were as fair and bewitching as always. So way, way out of his league. An unreachable, vigorous being. No angel, valkyrie or similar could ever reach up to you - at least in his eyes.
Was this what they called love at first sight? Loki only knew those sentiments from novels he always ridiculed before he got to know you.
Slowly and steadily, Loki aligned his breathing pattern with yours, picturing the cycle of energy the two of you formed. Carefully, he began infusing you with his magic, trying his best to allow yourself do the same to him.
Another minute passed by and you were finally able to let your magic flow through each other’s bodies entirely, like a serene stream.
With things being like this, he felt so different from the Loki you knew.
His magic was strong, indeed - but so gentle, warm and somehow comfortable to be coated with. You wondered-
“HEY!”
As soon as Loki slapped your hand away, breaking the cycle, all of the flowers that had previously bloossomed through you would wither in an instant.
“What the hel do you think you’re doing, you mewling quim?!” Loki shoutet as loud as his lungs allowed him to, while his mother’s face distorted in second-hand-embarrasment at her son’s choice of words. “Who do you think you are?!”
“I-I’m sorry, I just-” You only wanted to scan his emotions through the magic bond you shared, just peek under the cover for a mere second - what was he so afraid of you to find?
“Know your place, woman!” The god pointed at you before he rushed up, ignoring the ache in his heart as he saw your face contort in sadness. “You are beneath me, never forget that!”
Why were you even surprised?
“You’re right” you sniveled quietly as you balled a fist in your dress, and Loki hated himself so much that he wished to just disappear. “My apologies. You don’t have to put up with me ever again.”
As always, instead of fighting, you made your leave without ever fighting back.
Frigga’s pleads for you to stay and talk this over were all for naught when you rushed away, muttering curses directed towards youself rather than anyone else.
Instead of scolding her son, she’d punish him through her silence, furiously shaking her head as she rushed away as well.
Why did he always have to ruin everything?!
The God of Mischief was very well aware that whenever you were close, his mind went completely blank - and that made him panic.
Never before he had felt so goddamn vulnerable in front of anything, terrifying him beyond belief.
And Loki loathed that feeling: Losing control over himself, being reminded once again how alone and  unloveable he is, facing a goddess as stunning as you are every single day.
So he concluded it to be best to cope like he did all those millenia: Cover up those insecurities, shove his anxieties in the back of his heart and protect his heart from anyone coming close.
Good thing you believed that presumptupus, disoblinging duplicity of his to be his true self.
That would make it easier for the both of you, having as much distance as humanly possible. Vicinity could become dangerous terrain.
Yes, he would only save you some time - it would be a waste if you would try to actually give him a chance, just to be let down by what kind of disappointment he truly was.
But it wouldn’t end here - since the only way Loki Odinson first and only communication was through causing mischief.
A scream of yours startled the servants early in the morning, with your personal maiden being the first to rush to your side.
“Milady, wha-” She stopped in her tracks as she saw you standing in front of the mirror, touching your scalp in disbelief, where everything had been cut short.
That was it. Enough of it!
Dismissing the servants, you took a scissor and tried to at least make an acceptable hairstyle out of the mess he had made, before you would leave to the royal garden.
“You!” Pointing towards Loki, innocently sitting on a bench to watch the sunrise, you screamed and let a strand of hair run from your fingers to the floor. “You did this!”
“Now relax, would you” he chuckled, wearing his smug grin like a trophy as he defendingly held his hands into the air. “You should be grateful, it looks much better like this.”
Next thing he knew was the feeling of your backhand, mercilessly crushing against his collarbone.
Usually, you’d be shocked at yourself, for you had never been a person to choose violence ever before - but right now, you were too full of anger and hurt to even realize.
“You conniving craven pathetic worm!” you exclaimed, breathing heavily as you swung yet another fist towards the prince - however, he grabbed your wrists, trapping you in his hold.
In his life full of wrongdoings, he had been called worse than that - yet still, hearing insults coming from you of all people shot arrows through his heart with every word escaping his lips. Not that he’d ever admit, though.
“It was just a little prank.” Loki would’ve never thought that his actions would affect you this much. “What are you so worked up about?”
“All this time I believed there could be a good person beneath all that...but now what?” The compassion you detected in his eyes were only upsetting you even more. “You are a selfish, cruel and terrible person, and I gave up on you.”
Loki let go off of you, staring at you in disbelief:
You actually believed in him, all this time?! That was impossible!
If anything, the Odinson had always believed you to ignore his existence completely, if he wouldn’t use such drastic measures to attract your attention.
“Wait a second, I-”
“I hope you know that you deserve to be alone...” you sniveled, turning around to face him one last time before you fled the scene. “And you always will be.”
Several minutes had passed until Loki had given up in silencing he voices inside his head that told him you were right: He was indeed a despicable being, tainting your pure goodwill - repelling anyone that would still be willing to give the God of Mischief a chance.
Out of a whim, he jumped up from his place, wanting to rush after you. He was very well aware that he was probably beyond forgiveness by now, yet he at least wanted to make things up to you - even though he had no clue where to start.
“Calm down, Lady Y/N.”
Thor’s voice drang to Loki’s ears just a mere second before he saw that particular heart-wrenching scene unfold in front of him:
You were lying in his brother’s arms, crying to your heart’s extend while soothed you, softly petting what remained from your hair.  Loki remained hidden in the shadows, even though his guts told him to stab his brother right here and now.
“My brother...you know-” The God of Thunder was trying to find the right words, even though poetic speeches were not really his forte. “It’s just his speecial, twisted way of interacting. Who knows where he got that from.”
“I rather wonder if he realized how his behavior truly makes me feel” you snapped back, unwilling to keep defending him. “Weak and worthless, that’s how I feell. And every time our ways cross, he’s making it worse!”
By the gods, Loki never wanted to make you feel that way, let alone think such ways about yourself! He of all people, who knew best what its like to feel unfit and nowhere near enough.
Loki grabbed the fabric of his shirt tight, feeling that his heart might burst if he didn’t. It took everything in him to not let out a loud sob and be caught - but then, his brother snapped him out of it with an impossible question:
“Do you still love him?”
“L-Love might not be the right word, I mean-” Lately, you had let Thor in on your secret admiration for his younger brother. “With the way he’s treating me, and all-”
You just couldn’t help being drawn to him against all reason. After everything you had endured, just to be close to him - and he never even acknowledged your feelings.
And still, here you were, crying over a man that didn’t want you.
“Lady Y/N?”
Loki’s voice made you panic, immediately wriggling out of Thor’s embrace. The Odinson understood immediately, nodding towards his brother before leaving the two of you alone.
“Since when have you been standing there?!” Panic dropped to your stomach, wondering just how much he had heared.
“From the very beginning.”
Before you could even think about what to do now, Loki summoned a dagger, cutting off his raven locks in one swift move. “Wha-”
“Please, accept this as means of apology.” The man now dropped to one knee, humbly facing the ground. “I have never intended to make you doubt your most perfect self.”
Frantic, you were scanning his voice, face, anything for the slightest hint of a lie - but nothing. Loki seemed determined and sincere when he looked up to you, hesistantly taking a hold of your hand.
“This is new for me...” he uttered under his breath as his lips graced your knuckles, and only now you realized that he was trembling ever so slightly. 
“I-Is that another trick?!”
“What kind of vicious being do you think I am?” Well, after everything he had commited it was only natural of you accusing him. “There are lines not even I do not cross.”
Only for a brief second your heart felt a little bit lighter, as his eyes were locked with yours, lost in this moment you have been waited for so long...
...a little too unexpected, right?
Suddenly, you tugged your hand away, and Loki could only sigh in frustration. Of course it won’t be that easy for him to gain your trust. “I don’t need your pity, Loki...”
No matter how he racked his brain around the matter, he had burdened your shared past probably beyond the point of repair.
That would be his last chance, maybe the last time he’d ever see you again. He was so desperate in his attempt, and yet - what else could he do?
So for the first time in millenias, the God of Mischief decided to speak from the heart for a change:
"Y/N, I-I...As I said, this is new for me, so...” he cleared his throat before continuing, stress literally dropping out of every pore. “From the first day we’ve met, you...I mean...you were the most magnificent being I ever laid eyes upon, and...when I think about it now, I-I may be enarmored with you.”
Your eyes widened at this wholeheartedly confession, a sincere smile playing on his lips in contrast of sole tears running down his face.
Never before you had seen him like that: Flustered, vulnerable, and honest...
“I thought to be unworthy of your affection, so I tried to belittle you, to...I don’t even know. I’ve been told many times I am quite assertive of anyone but myself. I-I mean, I am a mess...I don’t understand my own feelings and thus drive away any chance of happiness, and...how could you ever-?”
“Mhh...” you silenced the man as your lips crushed over his, falling straight into his arms. It took Loki quite a second to fully grasp the situation before deepening the kiss, his arms wrapping around you as if you’d disappear if he was to ever let go.
“Y/N...” the prince gasped when your lips parted from that breathtaking kiss - and this time it was you who wore that thug grin on your face.
"Apology accepted” you giggled, just to smother the face of this flabbergasted man in yet another thousand smaller kisses.
This had to be a dream, he thought...and immediately, a wave of guilt washed over him. He did not deserve this in the slightest.
“Now, don’t give me that look.” Cupping Loki’s face in your hands, you gifted him that heartwarming expression he had ignored for so many years, thinking it was not meant for him. “That kiss wiped my memory from everything you’ve done...by now.”
Out of sheer, genuine happiness, Loki leaped from the floor and excitedly swirled you around in his arms.
After another kiss that would kick the air right out of your lungs. the god would peck a more gentle one afterwards, as sweet and tender as no one ever thought he could be.
Even if it’s gonna be a long way, Loki would prove to be worthy of your love.
“Lady Y/N...if you are to believe in me, then I swear I will be on my best behavior from now on!”
"Let's see about that."
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sweetwolfcupcake · 3 years
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Allurement: Chills and Creeps
Yandere Namjoon x Reader
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She was not liking it at all, not even a bit. (Y/N) knew that she was sometimes a bit too naive and trusting, the girl was well-aware of her follies. But she was no fool. It was the eighth time she had received a gift- not just any gift- it was an item she remembered vividly checking out online, or perhaps it was what she had eyed when she was passing through the street market. The last time had been a book she had been wanting to read, but of course, she could not afford to spend on anything inessential, (Y/N) had to save money.
                                                                                    There were handwritten notes with each bouquet of flower, or 'gifts', (Y/N) did not know what else to call, them, even though they were gradually making her paranoid.
But as she read the hand-written note, while a bouquet of burgundy roses in her grasp, she felt chills running down her spine.
'The love of my life. I think it is time, we must leave this vain world behind and create one of our own. I shall pick you up tonight when you would be off to your home from your draining shift at the restaurant. You would never have to worry about a thing when you would be with me. I have everything prepared. And tonight, we shall elope. And we will live happily, ever after.'
- Your faithful and devoted soulmate.
The girl felt sick reading the note. Her stomach churned and her eyes welled up with unshed tears as her heart dropped to her stomach. Until now, she had been unsure what to do with all of it, the notes had been getting creepier, first, it was a comment on how her hair seemed to be in perfect sync with the wind, the next one had been a compliment on her dress, even her voice, the person then had commented on her sneakers, and how to smelt like a rare, sweet, untouched flower he wanted to 'bloom in his garden alone'.                                                                              She could not take it anymore, it was turning terrifying and she was already regretting not going to the police. She felt her cheeks dampening as the terror set in. What would she do now? She could not afford to miss even a day at work!                                                                                                        All (Y/N) had ever wanted to support her mother, complete her education and live in peace. Her lips quivered as she sniffled, trying to stifle her sobs, or she could wake up her mother- the woman needed to rest.
"What do I do? Whom had I ever wronged to deserve this?" she whispered, feeling the panic brewing in as more tears cascaded down her flushed cheeks.
-----
(Y/N) had gone to work anyway, she could not even think of missing it, it would take a strain on her bills. And she did not want that. Despite her requests, her employer had not let her off earlier than usual. It was close to midnight when she had stepped out of her workplace and had begun to briskly walk towards her home. Her legs were tired, but she knew that if she would slow down, she could be in danger. She prayed that whoever it was, they were playing a sick prank on her, just a sick prank.                                                                                                                                                              Yet, all such thoughts vanished the moment she heard footsteps behind her, it was at a distance, but it was fast approaching. And without a second thought, she broke into a sprint. With her mouth open, gasping air as she forced her legs to move faster as she ran, she ran for her life, the sound of boots chasing her pushed her further into the edge of fear. She huffed, feeling short of breath. Her lungs burned and her feet ached, but she did not stop, she could not.
Not until she crashed right into another body and screamed in surprise, expecting the worst, but the familiar soothing voice floated in as the person held her close, breaking her out of her panicked state-
"(Y/N)! (Y/N) what happened? It's me, Namjoon! It's alright, you are okay, you are fine, (Y/N), look at me."
She blinked, getting her breathing back into normal, at least that was what she tried. The dreaded footsteps ceased at a distance and as Mr Kim's eyes focused ahead of her, with his jaws clenched and eyebrows drown together, she knew that he could see the person,                          "L-let's just get out of here, please." she pleaded while finally letting a single tear escape her eyes. Her voice had caught Mr Kim's attention as he looked down, eyes reflecting deep concern
"Are you hurt, he hurt you? Why were you running?"
"I-"
"Just stay here, okay?" with that, before she could protest he was marched past her, she turned back, only to catch sight of a man running away before Mr Kim could confront him, but instead of returning, he took off behind the man. And she was left alone, shivering, sniffling, frightened and incredibly tired.
"Please..." she whispered out to the air. Footsteps floated in once more, only this time, it was the familiar silhouette of Mr Kim that had greeted her sight before she felt relief flooding her tensed nerves.
"He got away, bastard!" Mr Kim hissed, despite the sense of relief and security she felt in his presence, the sliver of his rage had her gulping as she realised that after all, he beyond those polite smiles and benevolent eyes. As soon as his gaze flickered at her, the anger simmered down "Are you alright, Darling? You are trembling, here," he generously took off his coat and dropped it over her quivering form.
"Tha-thank you." fear had not left her yet, if anything, the withdraw of adrenaline hit her all at once and her already weak legs turned completely boneless, but Mr Kim was there to hold her, pull her closer to his comparatively warmer body as he supported her weight.
"Careful there, calm down okay? My car is right here, I have some water. We will talk when you are better, hm?" his voice was soothing, gentle, calm, the depth only added to the calmness as he gently rubbed her shoulder with his thumb.
Under any other circumstances, she would have been uncomfortable, but at the moment, it was addictively reassuring and she wanted nothing more than to lean on him and go to sleep. She was exhausted. A weak squeak escaped her lips as he felt his hand on the back of her thighs before she was heaved up. "W-wait, Mr Kim, you don't need to!" Now pressed flush against his chest as he carried her in his arms, she could feel the vibration of his deep chuckle.
"Don't worry, I won't drop you. Besides, you need to rest." she protested no further, only held on to him in silence.
The short walk was silent until he reached his car and put her on her feet again. Opening the car door, he gently ushered her inside. The warmth of the car added to the relished feeling of safety, and it also made her realise how vulnerable she was. Had Mr Kim not been there...She did not want to even think about what could have happened.
"Here, have some water." he offered her a bottle of water as soon as he was inside the car, as well.
"Thank you," she whispered before accepting and opening it and attaching her lips to the opening straight away, she was parched and the lukewarm water felt like nectar of immortality.
"Slow down, you will choke otherwise, slowly." he fussed and her cheeks warmed up as soon as she realised that she had rendered the bottle useless to him.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I-I" she could not hold back the sniffle, the fear and anxiety had never left her
"No, no, relax, it's okay, I have other bottles, but I want you to relax first, okay? Here, have some." he cooed as he produced a lollipop from the dashboard, it smelt of fresh lemon and honey "Whenever I am tensed or upset, I used to pop open my favourite lollipop, it helped me relax." suppressing yet another sniffle, she accepted the candy with her shaky hands "Relax, okay? Let's get you home first." she nodded mutely, that was the best he could do for her. All she wished to do was to curl up on her bed and let sleep take over. With that thought, she passed Mr Kim a smile as she put the lollipop inside her mouth. He smiled at her, yet, it seemed sharp. But she was sure she was thinking too much, she was a bit shaken after all.
The car started and Mr Kim took to driving, the silence was comfortable, added to the smooth motion of the car, and the tiredness taking over her, she felt her eyes turning increasingly tired with each passing moment. But she fought it, she did not want to fall asleep in his car, he was already being too kind, too generous. At least she could wait until she fell on her bed. The sweet and sour taste of the lollipop was addictive, it made her realise how long it had been since she had bought herself a stack of her favourite candies.                                                                                      She could not ponder over it long enough but, the tiredness was too much and the call of slumber was compelling enough for her to finally give in and sag against the passenger seat and let her droopy eyelids flutter shut.
****
Taglist (Kindly remind me later if I missed anyone)- @whatpageisthis @amoc94 @theresa-nam-nam-me @dearbambideer @casualminiaturetimemachine @njrwifey @kpopisnicee @illnevertrustmyselfagain @potterbrooke @luvaffaire @bighitfics @rkive-diary
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fanmoose12 · 3 years
Note
Hi, I had this HC about Levihan after Shiganshina and about both of them being broken in a differen way but when I started writing it it because long as fuck, I’m so so so sorry... 🙈
When they get back, Hange is angry. She has this red rage boiling inside of her and she’s almost choking on it. Levi identifies this immifiatelly so the minute they get back he takes charge of her. He’s not rough but he is persistent. He forces her to get bath, helps her get out of her clothes and takes it away to clean it. She hisses at him and hurles all kinds of abuse but it’s her way of coping with the events and he silently accepts it. Later he helps her clean her woulds and forces her to get her wounds checked up by a doctor.
‘No, it’s not ok, it’s gonna get all shitty and infected. Go to a doctor now, you lost an eye! The report will wait.’
She gets frustrated and vents at his something along the lines: ‘Erwin would have never need to check up tiny scratches like these, Levi, I said it’s ok!’
And he goes silent for a minute. Nevertheless, he forces the medical check on her - he gets the doctor to see her in her office. She is angry but not stupid, of course she understands that this had to be done so she is silently grateful.
She doesn’t want to go to sleep and she knows Levi would go check on her so instead of staying in her room or lab, she sneaks off to Moblit’s room. There she curles herself on his bed and lets her muffled cries be silenced by the cushion. The empty room is a painful reminder of everyone she had lost and she contemplates the events of the past days as she cries. Levi does not find her there and she is grateful for that. She needs to mourn.
She watches Levi the next morning as he runs on the training ground and she grits her teeths. He’s the only one out there, only one doing everyday excercise on the verge on sunrise like nothing has happened and she hates him for it. She hates him, herself, everything and everyone, she wants to scream out her anger but it’s so much that she starts to cry instead. Of course, Levi finds her like that which makes her frustrated even more.
‘Have you slept at all?’ he asks her and she doesn’t answer which gives him all the clues he needs.
He tries to take care of her again and calm her down the best way he can but since he’s not really good with words his sentencs come out a bit too rough and she snaps at him: ‘I know I have to make their sacrifice worthy and after everything, after Erwin and all I really don’t need a reminder from you!’
Again, he goes silent for a minute, eventually turns on his heel and heads to the kitchen. He makes her a cup of tea and forces her to go to her room to take a nap. She argues but feels too weak and so she falls onto her sheets that somehow smell like a lavender soup and really falls asleep. Later she discoveres a bag with tea leaves on her desk - Levi got them from a doctor and according to his neetly written note, they should help her to get more relaxed so she could sleep.
She feels slightly better after that and burries herself in work. When Levi comes to check on her she ignores him. She doesn’t want to talk or be taken care of - she is still angry and wants to put that anger to good use.
Levi himself doesn’t seem to be different after the events at the first glance - as soon as they arrived, he starts with the routine. He takes care of the horses. Does the initial reports. Washes Hange, himself, their clothes, boots and weapons. He makes sure the brats got a proper medical care. Makes sure Hange does, she promises she will. Then he checks up on her and after a yellfest he leaves her office and convinces the doctor to go to her. In the meantime, he cleans up his room. He cleans up Hange’s room and lab as well. When he runs out on cleaning their rooms, he starts on cleaning up all the things that did belong to their dead commarades. Over the night he manages to sort a lot of things into boxes so he can take them to their families the next day. He does the usual excercise in the morning and after that he takes the things that were left after his commarades and goes to talk to their families. He tells them about their bravery and sacrifice and he silently listens to their cries. He silently accepts their rage as well. He doesn’t confess to Hange that the giant bruise on his jaw is actually from a brother of one of the fallen recruits - Levi could have ducked but he didn’t. He himself is not sure why and Hange doesn’t seem to care about his face anyways.
Everytime they speak, he feels Hange’s rage boiling inside of her threatening to flood everything and everyone within its reach and so he lets himself be available to that. He lets her vent. He knows that she needs that now and he’s prepared to take another punch in a jaw if necessary.
It’s been three days since they got back and Levi tries to get Hange to sleep once more when she snaps at him again. This time she is vicious, she wants to hurt someone, anyone within her reach, she want to make the whole world suffer with her. She clenches her fists, so close to punching him but eventually she doesn’t. She slams her hands on a desk instead and yells another remark about a burden of being a commander, about Erwin, about how pointless it all has been and about noone understanding it. Levi goes silent again, blank face and then leaves her office to make her tea.
After a few moments Hange hears a loud porcelain bang and weird noices in the kitchen. She goes to check it only to find Levi curled on the floor in the pool of broken cup, spilled tea and, as she realizes immidiatelly by the sharp smell, vommit. His hand is clutching his stomach and he’s shaking feverisly, forehead on the ground, cursing under his breath.
‘Levi?’ Fear suddenly cuts through her like a knife as the memories of all her lost commarades flood her mind.
‘It’s ok,’ he growls, but his shaky voice begs the differ.
She touches his shoulder and feels the tremor in his muscles. He pushes her hand away and his fingers are clammy and cold. ‘Levi, are you sick...?’ she starts when she suddenly realizes something - he did vommit yes, but there seems to be nothing but liquid on the floor.
‘When was the last time you ate?’ she asks sharply.
No answer. Levi tries to get up but aborts the mission as soon as darkness starts to cloud his vision. Instead, he just sits, his face mercifully hidden by his hair and the cover of the night. She starts to examine it anyways as he waits for the sudden wave of weakness to pass.
‘When was the last time you have slept?’ she probes again, starting to have an inkling based on the dark, almost bruise-like circles under his eyes - and wait, is that an actual bruise on his jaw?! For the first time after their return she actually looks at him and realizes his fasade has crumbled in front of her very eyes without her even noticing. How long has he looked like this?
‘Do you resent me, Hange?’ he whispers and she twitches at his soft broken tone.
‘What...?’
‘Do you resent me for the choice I made for all of us?’ He’s looking at her with empty dead eyes as if begging her to yell at him something about Erwin once more, to twist that knife deeper and to put him out of his misery.
And just like that, all of her anger is gone.
She is broken, yes. She misses Erwin and everyone terribly and she doesn’t know how to comprehend their loss. She is suffering by all that had happened. But she is far from being the only one.
‘I’m... I’m sorry,’ she chokes out quitely.
The room falls into silence.
Levi is still shaking but the weekness is slowly melting away. He sighs. ‘I’ll clean this mess...’ he starts but she scoffs.
‘Like hell you will. Come on. I’ll take care of the mess.’
‘I...’
‘I said I will take care of the mess, shorty. That starts with you. Let’s get you something to eat,’ she leans in to help him get up. ‘And then you’re going straight to bed. That’s an order.’
He doesn’t protest. When they get to his room she smells the familiar scent of lavender soup and Hange remembers that it lulled her to sleep for the past days. She feels embarassed when she remembers how many times she lashed out on him.
She gently pushes Levi into a chair. ‘There. Take care of your clothes, I’ll bring you some food.’
She lingers in the door long enough to hear his voice call out her name.
‘Hange...’ he says again and she knows what he wants to ask before he does.
‘No, Levi,’ she stops him softly. ‘I don’t resent you. I didn’t agree. But I understand. I’m sorry for the past few days. We will live through this and make it worthy their sacrifice. Together.’
He doesn’t answer but she can see the relief in his eyes.
She leaves for the kitchen. There she makes a new pot of tea for him and cleans the mess on the floor, well aware of the fact that once Levi gets there in the morning he will clean it again himself anyways. When she gets back to his room with a pot of tea and a plate with food, she finds him still sitting in that chair, still in that dirty clothes. His head has sunk on his shoulder and his chest is rising and falling in a steady pace. For the first time since their return from Shiganshina, he fell asleep.
Hange leaves the plate and the pot on the table, reaches for a blanket and gently covers him with it. As she looks at him, she feels at peace, like she is finally able to start processing what happened. She knows they will never speak of this incident again - Levi is not the one with words and she can’t afford to hesitate now as a commander. But as she leaves the room, she cannot but to linger in the moment just for a bit longer since it filled her with solace and calm for the first time in the past days. ‘Don’t worry, Levi,’ she whispers as the leaves the room and it sounds like a promise. ‘We will make it through together. For them.’
oh my god, anon, wtf, this was so good! like i was literally at the edge of my seat reading this and thinking - oh no, will hange lose it? will she lash out at levi? and then levi! when he collapsed in the kitchen - i kid you not - i actually gasped lmao
you wrote it so good, described what hange and levi are going through so well, i could practically feel the tension and their grief
thanks for sharing this with me! you're very talented✨💖
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mobagehelllocal · 3 years
Text
"huling sayaw"
twst oc week - day seven: free day or alternate universe
*arknights au
“hold my hand, before we have to give each other up everything, I will give to you. everything.”
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She had been on the run for days.
Raina gritted her teeth as she tugged her hood lower across her face to shield herself from the heat of the sun. She turned around, her eyes squinted as she glanced at her fellow travellers. Most of them (just like her) bore the mark of the Infection—Oripathy. Dark, crystal shapes that emerge from the skin.
“... We shouldn’t be too far away now.” She kept her voice calm and in control—even if she wanted to scream and cry about how unfair their situation was.
“Where exactly are we going, Raina-nee?” Her eyes met that of a child, clutching onto her older sister. Both had contracted Oripathy the most common way: being exposed to a dead body with the disease. Her heart broke—their futures, stolen from them. Not by the disease, but by the treatment they received from their homeland—Laterano.
It was the Laterano decree, that those who became Infected were forbidden from staying or entering Laterano territory.
“... We’re going to Rhodes Island.” Her smile trembled—and she was sure it was more of a grimace. “I am friends with the Doctor there—we exchanged research quite a bit before...” her voice trailed off. “... If there is a place who will accept us... I’m sure Rhodes Island will.” She looked up, and hoped that there was nothing but determination on her face. “So just a bit more everyone..! We can do this.” She helped guide everyone across the sandy terrains they were crossing before—
She raised her head again and peered into the distance. The sun had just begun to set, dragging its brilliant colours of red and yellow past the horizons. In its wake, the sky began to darken purple and blue--like a bruise.
“We’ll need to set up camp soon...” Her hand reached up, and clamped tight on a small, diamond shape charm that hung around her neck. She felt her heart twist as she traced the shape with a finger—her eyes watered, and the smile she had been desperately holding up—immediately curled downward.
‘I miss them, gods I miss them. I don’t know how to live without them.’
After all, It was the first time, since she was born, that she was separated from them.
--
“Sankta Raina. You are accused of harbouring Infected when it was clearly against Laterano Law. Do you deny it?”
“I do not—but do you not have any humanity in you? These people are still Laterano citizens and are owed help by our government, on our lands—”
“Silence, Sankta Raina. You were not asked to speak.”
“That’s—”
“Sankta Raina. You are also accused of being Infected yourself… and hiding it from Laterano Authorities. Do you deny it?”
“… I do not.”
“Then you and your harboured Infected will be banished and stripped of your Laterano Citizenship and Privileges…”
“Are you serious? Now of all times, we should be united in understanding Oripathy and healing it…! Banishing me—us—it will not cure or help anything—You are just delaying something inevitable—!”
“Out there, you are no longer our concern or our problem. You are on your own, Sankta Raina. You will be stripped of your firearms on your way out of Laterano. Do you have any last-minute requests to make of us?”
“Oh, so now you ask!?”
“Speak it. And perhaps we will permit it.”
“… You won’t tell the twins.”
“Naturally. The two of them are core members of Laterano’s Apostolic Gun-Knights. Their very reputation… their future would be tarnished by your actions… No, the two of them will be kept far away from the trouble you have caused, Sankta Raina.”
“… I’m glad we can agree on one thing.”
--
‘Jade, Floyd... I hope you two are okay. I hope you are not kicking up too much of a ruckus...’ she couldn’t help but desperately pray to any god or higher being that could be listening.
The twins were well loved in Laterano due to their effectiveness as Apostolic Gun-Knights and enforcers of the Laterano law. Their future in Laterano was brilliant—and not one she wanted to mar with her selfish actions.
“Perhaps… I can meet them again one day…” she raised a hand to trace the scars of Oripathy on her cheek. ‘But who am I kidding…’ It would be impossible to cross paths with them again—knowing that Laterano was likely going to send them as far away from her as possible.
‘So until I discover a cure… I can’t see them… and even then, with what I’ve done… Laterano will not make it easy.’ She gritted her teeth, the tears started to gather at the edge of her lashes and she started breathing heavily in an attempt to not let the tears fall.
‘I can’t cry..! If they were here—! They would tell me not to cry—!’
Her thoughts are cut off by a sharp scream behind her. She turned immediately, and what she saw made her eyes widen.
‘Laterano’s Apostolic Gun-Knights!?’
She rushed over to her group as she rubbed fiercely at her eyes to ensure there were no tears before she confronted the Gun-Knights. She slid to a stop and spread her arms out in a protective stance over her group.
“We were peacefully allowed to leave Laterano territory.” Her eyes narrowed and she bared her teeth. “So why are you here? Threatening my companions?”
The Gun-Knight peered at her.
“Are you Sankta Raina?”
“Y—yes. Why do you need to know—!?” Before she could finish her sentence, the Head Gun-Knight gestured with his fingers and two of his accomplices quickly manoeuvred themselves to hold her down on either side. “What are you—?”
“We have reasons to believe that the criminals we are chasing down are looking to meet up with you.” The Head Gun-Knight said. “So we are using you as bait.”
“Criminals?” She questioned, stunned. “What—who would—? I’ve never—!” The Knight looked almost bored as he stared at her.
“Who else but—”
‘No they wouldn’t—’
“J—”
BANG BANG.
The Knight slumped down, dead—and her companions all shrieked in surprise. Raina flinched as she felt blood splatter across her cheeks before she craned her neck to see—
The Twins.
Just as she remembered them. Aquamarine halos and diamond shaped wings shimmered under the light of the daybreak sky. They were beautiful—so beautiful. Raina’s heart skipped a beat at how handsome they were—standing before her, protecting her, as they always did since they were children.
Except...
“Awww, we wanted to keep it a secret a little longer~ Ne, Jade?” Floyd had a tail. Diamond tipped—like his wings. It twisted and flicked around, as if expressing his excitement.
“Ee, Floyd. Oh well, we can’t deny that this slight hiccup in our plans isn’t fun at all.” Jade had horns. Tall and curved wickedly—beautiful and grotesque on an angel...
“Ehehe. You’re right~! Let’s… have some fun…!” Floyd’s horns were identical to Jade’s—if not somehow pointed outward.
“Fufufu….” While Jade’s tail was identical to his brother in appearance, he moved his lazily by swinging it from side to side.
‘The Law is absolute. From the moment a Sankta aimed their gun at another of their kind, their fates were decided.’
Raina could only stare in horror as she watched the twins decimate the entire squadron of Apostolic Gun-Knights—with eyes glowing gleefully and mouths spread into wide, sharp grins. The other Gun-Knights stood no chance—the twins were considered their best agents in decades. Once they had finished, they turned back around, their eyes immediately fixated onto her. Floyd moved toward her eagerly before Jade raised his hand and stopped his brother. Floyd frowned and opened his mouth to protest but he was interrupted by Raina.
“... Why…?” She felt her throat dry. She was caught between sheer happiness at being able to see them, sorrow upon knowing what must’ve happened and—anger. Anger because she did not want this future for them. “Why!? Why are you here—I made sure—!”
“As if they could hide something so important from us.” Jade cut in, calmly. His gold and olive eyes peered down at her, before it flickered off to the terrified group behind her. His smile turned cordial. “Well, it’s quite late in the day. We should set up camp. Don’t you agree d—Raina?”
She turned around at that, to see that her group was staring at the twins in pure fear… as they would any Sankta who had fallen from grace. “Yes… Do… do not worry.” She stood up shakily, “They’re my friends… They’ll keep us safe.”
She smiled—and she wondered again, how reassuring could it even look—when she herself was terrified.
‘What have you two done…?’
--
The whole group skittered around when the twins had rejoined them after disposing of… the bodies. She had only approached them once—to offer them dinner, before she slipped away from their grasp to look after her companions. She could feel the heavy weight of their gaze on her shoulders—down the black crystals that formed on her arms… But she ignored them for as long as she could as she dressed or reworked any of her companions’ injuries.
She did this—going around the hot fire at the center of their camp, until there was no one left to distract herself with and—
“You’ve kept us waiting long enough!” Floyd pouted as he yanked her down to sit in between him and Jade. The other twin stared at her, as collected as ever, as he poked a stick into the fire.
“I have to take care of everyone.” She bit out. “They’re my responsibility now.” Floyd only huffed in response before he nuzzled into the curve of her neck, lips dangerously close to—
“Don’t—!” She flinched back, briefly hitting Jade as her hand went up to cover the crystals that had formed across her skin.
“Haah? You’ve never resisted squeezes before!” His expression twisted. “Is it because of these?” He gestured to his newly acquired demon horns and tail.
“No--of course not—it’s… I’m… an Infected now… I just thought...” The twins snorted in unison.
“You must be a unique kind of stupid, doll. If you think your infection will make us stay away from you.” Jade said dryly, as his hand snaked around her waist and pulled her tight against his side. Before she could protest, Floyd moved, and pressed up against her—which squeezed her in between them both.
“You…” She felt her eyes water and she blinked rapidly—in an attempt to not let her tears fall. “Nothing’s changed…?” her voice cracked.
“Absolutely nothing.” They said vehemently, once more in unison.
“Your future…” She raised a shaky hand to trace her fingers up the length of their dark horns. Both twins bent down, their eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of her hand against their new appendages. “... You shouldn’t have fallen… not for me.”
“On the contrary.” Jade purred as he nuzzled against her shoulder, lips pressed against the crystals there. “How could we picture a future without you?”
“Besides, it was getting boring in Laterano!” Floyd smiled, goofily as he nuzzled his nose against the curve of her shoulder. “It’s more fun with you!” She gritted her teeth, her hands fell away from their horns—and cupped her own face. She started to cry. She had thought she had lost everything but…
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'But she hadn’t lost anything. Not anything of value anyways.
“T—thank you… I’m sorry…!” She began to sob, “I’m sorry I kept it a secret…! I should’ve… told you guys… I…” her whole body began to shake, and the twins only drew closer.
They had been together every day and knew they would see each other every tomorrow. It had simply become impossible to imagine a future without each other.
“That’s right! Say your sorry! To think you were going to have fun without us!” Floyd pouted.
“Cry for now, dear doll. Let it all out.” Jade said smoothly. “And don’t forget, from here on out. We have already fallen… it doesn’t matter how much farther we fall.”
--
“let’s say goodbye after our last dance who knew we could fall from the heavens? so together, let’s give each other up— after we dance one more time”
--
*huling sayaw - 'last dance'
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maplecornia · 3 years
Text
chapter 24
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𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.94K
𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7
𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?
𝔞/𝔫: things are getting heavyyy
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language
tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear |@mangminnie | @pixiekooo
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If you're still enough, you can hear the inner whispers of your heart.
Have you noticed?
You're able to hear everything you have kept locked away. It tries to break through the cage, and you can feel the chains growing weaker and weaker with each passing moment. Each tick of the clock drawing closer and closer to the moment where you can no longer hold it in.
Where you finally break down.
Taehyung sighs and leans back in his chair, the meeting room now empty and dark. It's hard to believe that at the break of day it was filled with conflict and torn decisions.
-
"I'm against it."
At the sound of Yoongi's sharp dismissal, it's as though the room wakes up. Some in protest, some in shock. Suga raises his brow at the reaction, almost scoffing when he sees it.
"It's too much of a risk." He sighs almost in contempt. "If you want her so badly, why not sign her with Source or Pledis? They're our shareholders for a reason. Plus, since we're all under HYBE it will be exactly like she were a BigHit affiliation. Given the way this industry runs, however, she's probably best out of Kpop and should be signed under HYBE America. After all, she is a foreigner."
Though they are harsh, his words make sense. This would be the most logical approach rather than breaking their ban on female trainees. They made the ban for a reason, Yoongi doesn't understand why they would throw that away for someone who is slightly talented.
Besides, what about every other talented girl before her?
What reason should she have to achieve the dream which they were denied?
"I have to agree with Yoongi," Jin speaks up, his brow furrowed in concentration. "She has a unique and beautiful voice, that much is true. It'd be a shame to let it go, but if you think about it, we wouldn't be letting it go. Giving it to another company under HYBE might provide a better chance for her in the industry."
Taehyung bites his lip, not liking where this is going.
Jin glances around the table, hesitating before he says his next piece.
"We just got back, can we trust that they'll accept us if we do this? Next thing you know there'll be rumors of a scandal."
Though it was all on their minds, it still hurts to hear it out loud.
Can they trust ARMY to be there for them this time?
"It is a bit concerning. She'll be the only female trainee in an all-male company. Can you imagine the rumors? The field day Dispatch would have? She'd be hated before she even had a chance to show them her worth." Jhope murmurs under his breath, his eyes sparkling with deep worry.
They've all faced that. The fear of being hated for just being you. For existing without the mask.
"But I liked her," Jimin says, leaning forward. Though his words are simple, they are said with the most sincerity. "She's someone you hardly ever see, her voice stays with you, it doesn't leave. It's the kind that people can't get enough of. That's something special...shouldn't we take that into account?"
Biting his inner cheek, Taehyung glances up at BangPD, wondering if he knows. Did Jungkook tell him? He knew about Yen, why wouldn't he have found out about him as well?
If only he hadn't saved that recording. If only he hadn't been so careless, then none of this would have happened.
Somehow he feels as though those moments are being stolen from him.
"Jimin has a point, Yoongi. Did you hear her?" Jin speaks up, his gaze glazing over as though he were looking into the distance. Or recalling a long forgotten memory. Yoongi scoffs and smirks bitterly.
"Of course I did, I have ears."
"Are you sure?" Jin mutters in response, but it's almost as though Yoongi can't hear him.
"Think of this realistically, you have to know there's zero to no chance of her making it. Even if she's talented." There's a moment of uncomfortable silence at his words, words which no one wanted themselves to say. Sighing, Suga gestures towards Namjoon.
"Come on, Joon back me up here."
The room turns to Namjoon, waiting to hear his response.
He stays silent for a moment, his hand resting on his chin as he ponders the situation, his deep eyes calculating moves and countermoves. Possible situation and solutions.
All while trying to forget that the possible trainee is Yen.
Biting his bottom lip, he can't help but remember the way she was in the studio. How her eyes lit up with unimaginable love and devotion. A look only a fellow artist would be able to recognize. She was made for this, he can tell. She yearns to sing, to be lost in music, enveloped in a world of her own making. To be able to share that with others.
Looking over at BangPD, he narrows his eyes thoughtfully.
"What are you planning to do?"
Yoongi's eyes widen at Namjoon’s question, and he leans back, looking to BangPD's response. Bang Sihyuk smiles softly, almost as though he expected this.
For some reason, that look irks Taehyung.
Don’t think you can control us. We weren’t made for your chessboard.
"It will be on a purely trial basis. I am planning to sign her as a trainee, but the public will not know about it until I am sure that she will be a good addition." He looks towards Suga, pointedly directing his next statement towards him. "I understand your concerns for her. After all, she would be our first female trainee for a while."
Suga bites his inner cheek in protest, leaning back in his chair and brooding.
"However, I have been planning this for a while now." The room goes silent with the revelation as they turn to him, waiting for him to reveal more. "Ever since you've left for the military, I've been thinking of possible trainees to recruit for a new girl group. The first girl group to be officially under BigHit entertainment. They would be managed, produced, and signed underneath our label. Not through a loophole like BE:LIFT, Source Music, or Pledis. This would be ours and ours alone."
Jimin shakes his head in confusion. "Why now? What changed?"
BangPD sighs, his careful eyes scanning the room in a calm and collected manner.
"I don't know entirely myself." He rubs his face before continuing, playing with the portfolio of Yen. "I thought it was time to expand our horizons, to try something new...I guess you could say I was inspired."
He glances towards Namjoon, and Joon can't help but remember that day all those years ago.
The day when BangPD proposed a plan, an inspiration to him, not quite unlike this one.
Namjoon’s brow furrowed in concentration, he turns to your smiling photo, still spread across the table.
Was it you?
Were you the reason for this inspiration?
"In any case, before I moved any further, I wanted to see if things would work out with her. One trainee. I didn't want to make a mistake like last time, hence the trial period." Bang Sihyuk continues, swaying a bit in his chair.
"Who would train her?" Taehyung mutters underneath his breath, unable to look away from your photo this whole time. Turning to BangPD, his eyes are aflame with conviction. "If we have our normal staff take part in her training, we won't be able to control who else could find out. If her existence were to be completely secret, who could we trust?"
It's a valid question, but Taehyung doesn't like the glint Sihyuk gets in his eyes at the notion. Silently, he wishes he never spoke up. Maybe then he would've been able to stay under the radar, and BangPD would never have to suspect he had any affiliation with the girl.
With Yen.
"You would."
Two words is all it takes.
Two words and the room is in an uproar.
"What are you talking about?! We have enough on our plate with our comeback, and now you expect us to train a girl who shouldn't even be here in the first place?!" Yoongi is so outraged that he stands, his chair rolling back into the wall.
"Yoongi, calm down--" RM begins, but Suga isn't willing to listen to anyone at the moment.
"Do you have any idea how much pressure we're under? And now you want to add an inexperienced trainee to our list of burdens just because she can sing?!" he snarls, his lip curling in disgust, his eyes dark with anger.
"Yoongi-hyung, you heard her voice. You have to admit that we found something here." Jungkook speaks up, meekly. Taehyung narrows his eyes his way.
Just what does Jungkook get out of all this? Taehyung knows he has to be the one who gave BangPD the file of your voice. He was the only other one there, besides Taehyung. Taehyung himself couldn’t bring himself to give you the flash drive, but Jungkook didn’t even think to tell you. He went straight to BangPD as though this were his decision to make. Did he even think of asking you what you thought?
What’s your angle?
Yoongi rolls his eyes, gesturing to the portfolio on the table.
"Yeah, we found something. But not something worth risking everything we built over!"
"Don't you think you're being a dramatic? We aren't even sure if this will work out. It's just a trial, and it's the best option for us to train them given the situation." Namjoon murmurs, rationally. Suga's eyes flame with defiance at the rebuttal and slams his hand on the table.
"And what happens if word gets out before we're ready?"
The room goes silent with the ultimatum, and they all avoid his gaze.
"What happens when we're the cause of her downfall?"
Glancing at each other, they ponder the question. A question that has weighed heavily on them ever since they debuted, ever since they became the star in the public's eye. Ever since the world knew about the boy group...
BTS.
Scowling, Yoongi pulls away.
"I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't have time for this. I have work to do, work that has been waiting for us for 2 years! Or did you all forget our promise?" When they don't answer him, he scoffs, pulling his backpack on his shoulder and walking out the door. "I'll see you at practice."
There's a moment of silence as soon as Yoongi leaves, silence uncomfortable and pressing. Licking his lips in nervous anticipation, Hoseok looks at the rest of them, almost unsure.
"Is he going to be okay?"
BangPD leans forward, folding his hands on the table.
"Don't worry about Yoongi, I'll talk to him later. But what about the rest of you?"
His quick, analytical eyes scan the table, hovering over every one of them. Almost as if he were trying to predict what exactly they would say next.
"Do you agree?"
-
Now, Taehyung grits his teeth. His grip tightening around the water bottle he was playing with in his hands, he throws it across the wall. As he watches it crumble at the force, he finds the ruin in his mind easing. Water drips off of the wall, and he feels a sort of sadistic satisfaction at the sight of destruction.
Now he’s not the only one broken.
But once that fades, he's left once more with his memories and his regret.
"Dammit." He groans, dropping his face in his hands hopelessly.
-
Standing, Tae grabs Jungkook by the hand before he can follow the rest of them out. The door shuts behind them, leaving only him and Jungkook in the meeting room, an uneasy silence hanging over them. With words they need to say, questions waiting to be answered.
"Taeh--" Jungkook begins, but in his rush, Tae interrupts him.
"Were you there?"
The silence that blossoms between them grows to a deafening roar as Jungkook gently pulls away from Taehyung's firm hold. It creates a bitter but necessary distance between the two of them. It lets them know that they're different, that what happened back then was something that belonged to one as much as it did the other.
"You heard her too, didn't you?" Jungkook murmurs, his words turning Taehyung's blood cold. Smiling softly, Jungkook runs his hands through his hair. "I saw you as you were leaving, you were the one who recorded her, aren't you?"
Biting his bottom lip, Tae can't answer. Even though he knows that moment wasn't his, even though he knows that his ideas of fate and chance have been destroyed, he's unable to admit to it. He can't find it in him to voice the fact that he was there, that he gave birth to her chance, and he wanted it to be his and his alone.
Jungkook chuckles nervously at the silence before speaking once more.
"I wonder...why didn't you have the same idea as me?"
-
His hands tangled up in the locks of his hair, Taehyung stares at the slick wooden table, his heart in knots and his mind jumbled.
"Why didn't I?" he mutters to himself, a soft whisper that lingers empty on the air. "Why couldn't I say anything?"
Pulling away from the table, where Yen's future was decided this morning, he swallows hard. By the end of the day, he found himself lingering around this room, the studio, anyplace that reminded him of her.
Laughing bitterly, he rubs his forehead.
"Why..." He whispers, holding his phone tightly to his chest.
"Why can't I forget you?"
Biting his bottom lip, he quickly messages you, having the sudden urge to see you. Maybe then, would he realize what he can't find? Would he be able to create another memory, another moment in time? One that was yours and yours alone?
After a couple of moments, you don't answer.
Maybe...I was just afraid of letting go.
Standing almost decisively, he rushes out of the room, and down the hallways of the building.
I need to know.
As he rides the same elevator you rode yesterday down to the lobby, he holds his phone tighter in his hand.
If I don't find out now, I may never get another chance.
Desperate, he sends another message to you.
One more time.
Catching his face in the metallic walls of the elevator, he can't help but imagine yours smiling up at him. A face that makes everything seem alright again.
That's all I need.
What happens when that is taken away from him? What happens when he can no longer see the person who gives him courage? Biting his lip, he can feel the pain in his chest grow.
Just let me see you one more time.
He doesn't want to let you go.
As the elevator dings and he steps out, he pauses, seeing Namjoon right in front of him. Namjoon glances up, his eyes glazed over and tired, but when he sees Tae, they widen in recognition. Taehyung smiles inwardly to himself, he knows this look. A look lost in the wilderness of creativity and desolation.
"Oh, Taehyung!" he says, and Taehyung nods to him curtly before brushing past him and continuing to the front door. Namjoon, however, catches him by the wrist and Tae pauses, turning around.
"Namjoon?" His face is blank, but something in his eyes tells Tae to be wary. They are sort of dark, not really there, but urgent and anxious. Taehyung wonders how eyes can hold so many words, and yet tell you nothing at all.
"You knew, didn't you?"
At his words, Tae blinks, his heart pounding.
"I..."
"That's why you followed her, how you knew about her injury."
How does he know?
"When were you going to tell me?"
Biting his bottom lip, Taehyung can't help but feel a bit of aggravation towards his older friend. Why can't he keep anything to himself? Why is it a crime for him to live his own life, without everyone looking in? Yanking his arm out of Namjoon's grip, he scowls, turning on his heel.
"When it became your business."
Namjoon stands there, a bit in shock before rushing forward and taking Tae forcibly by the arm once more.
"Taehyung, wait!" At his touch, Tae tries to pull away, but Namjoon won't budge, his eyes desperate and wild. They unnerve Taehyung, make him want to escape, hide away until everything turns back to normal again. "If she's going to become an idol, any affiliation you have with her will only hurt her."
Tae's eyes widen at his words, snapping a hidden string he didn't know he had inside of him. RM doesn't notice, instead, his grip tightens around Tae until he feels as though he's suffocating from the inside out.
"You know that right?"
Gritting his teeth, Tae pulls away from Namjoon, staggering back until he's a good distance away. Raising his eyes to his hyung, Namjoon finds a look he's never seen in his younger friend before.
Loathing.
"Don't act as though you know everything." He spits before turning away and walking out of the door.
Namjoon sighs as he watches him leave before glancing over at the now empty lobby. The lobby where just a day ago, he met a sweet, cheerful girl. Someone who filled his mind with inspiration and wonder.
Smiling sadly, he rubs the back of his neck, looking up at the sky as though that will offer him the answers he seeks.
"Just who are you, Yen?"
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𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: this one was actually pretty hard to write, i'm ngl ;-;
chapter 25 here
check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters
check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content
check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics
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parkersbliss · 4 years
Text
2:48 A.M | T. Holland
Pairing: Tom Holland X Teen!Sister!Reader
warnings: No-no words, Tom being too protective for his own good, trash writing, ‘m sorry
wc; 1.1K (she’s short)
synopsis: Sometimes your older brother just doesn’t know when too much is too much. 
Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List
(not my gif )
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"You can't boss me around all the time, Tom! I'm eighteen," You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. 
"I'm still your older brother!" He defends, matching your tone of voice. You roll your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose, "Yeah well, maybe I don't want you to play the older brother." 
Tom scoffs, "I'm doing this for your best interest."
"No, you're doing it for your best interest."
"That's not true," He protests. 
You click your tongue, giving him a pointed stare, cheeks flushed with anger, "Yes, it is! You're treating me like some kind of baby. I'm old enough to take care of myself! I'm an adult for fuck's sake!"
"I'm not treating you like a baby! I just don't like him." 
"You haven't even met him!" 
"So?"
"So? Are you serious? You are such a child!" You scream, fed up with the way he was treating you. Tom could be so self-centered sometimes, ignoring how you felt, and yet he would still say it's for your best interest.
Tom opens his mouth, but you're quick to cut him off, "I don't care, Thomas. This isn't your fucking decision." He clamps his mouth shut as you storm out of the room. He rolls his eyes, flopping down on the couch, flinching when he hears your door slam shut, the whole house shaking. Tom drags his hands down his face, had he been too harsh? He didn't think so. In Tom's eyes, you were still the baby girl his mom had brought home all those years ago. He was your older brother, your protector, but maybe, you didn't need protection anymore. Tom had to constantly remind himself that you were an adult now, he had no control of your decisions anymore. Tom knew that, of course, he knew that, but he just couldn't accept it. His little sister, no longer needing him, it didn't feel real. 
He heard your door creak open and you stepped out, heels clicking against the floor a coat hiding your body from him. 
"Where are you going?" He asked, eyebrows raised. 
"Out," You spat, grabbing your bag by the door and slamming it behind you. 
Tom sighs, running a hand through his curls, you were really mad. He wasn't stupid, he knew you were going out, probably drinking. He couldn't stop you, you were of legal age. He just hoped you'd be responsible.
... 
The door creaked open and you peaking your head inside, all the light were dim and you took it as a sign that Tom had gone to bed. You push the door open the rest of the way, dropping your purse on the ground and attempting to slide off your heels. You fail and flop to the floor, tugging them off your swollen feet and throwing them somewhere across the room, completely forgetting about your goal to get to bed without waking your brother, but it was a little for that. Tom flips the lights on and you flinch, groaning at the sudden brightness. 
"It's almost two in the morning," Your older brother said, leaning against the kitchen counter. You look up at him, head lolling to the side, "Thanks for telling me."
"Your curfew is eleven," He points out. 
You stare at him, eyes blinking slowly, frown deepening against your face, "I like the number eleven." 
"Are you drunk?"
"Are you?"
Tom pinches the bridge of his nose, he was tired as hell from waiting for you to come home, and here you were proper drunk. 
"We're going to bed," He said, walking over to you, only resulting in you scrambling away. 
"Uh-uh," You tutted, "I'm not tired." 
He raises his eyebrows as you yawn, defeating the words you just said.
"You just yawned."
"Did not!"
"We're going to bed," He said again. 
You whine as Tom picks you up, "No! I want ice cream!" 
He throws you over his shoulder and you pound at his back, "I want ice cream!"
"It's two in the morning!"
You scream, causing Tom to almost drop you, "Ice cream!"
"No! You're going to bed."
You went silent, letting your hands rest on Tom's back. He freezes, fearing the worse, and he was to fear it. A loud wail escapes your lips and you begin crying.
"Oh you've got to be kidding me," Tom said. He drops you on your bed and you sniffle, wiping under your nose, a few sobs wrecking your chest.
"If I get ice cream will you stop crying?" He counters. 
You nod your head and he returns to your room five minutes later with a tub of your favorite flavor. He hands you a spoon and sighs happily when you dig in, silencing your cries. 
"You shouldn't drink this much," He said after a while, he notes the clock blinking in the corner. It was 2:48 in the morning. 
"You shouldn't talk as much," You replied, offering him your spoon full of ice cream. He takes it and lets the delicious treat cool his mind.
"I'm serious, (Y/N). You're really drunk and if you weren't with friends you might've done something stupid. I know, I was a bit harsh earlier, but drinking away your problems won't make them actually go away." 
You stare at him, mouth full of ice cream. 
"What if I wasn't here? You probably would've passed out on the floor." 
You blink at him, stabbing your spoon back into the cartoon. 
"I'm not a kid anymore," You said softly. "I know I might be drunk, but I know how to take care of myself. I called a cab tonight." 
"I know you're not a kid."
You quick an eyebrow at him.
"I just- I guess, you're still my little sister and I don't want to lose you yet." 
You grab his hand and he flinches at the coldness of yours, "Tom, you're my brother. You've been with me through most of the important times in my life. Nothing's going to change that." 
He nods his head, "I know, I'm really sorry about earlier." 
"It's okay," You smiled, opening your arms, inviting him in. He takes the opportunity and you both sit there hugging, ice cream disregard on the bed. 
"Oh and don't act live you've never been proper smashed." 
He laughs, "So maybe I've been once or twice, but at least I didn't throw a fit over ice cream." 
You grab a pillow from your headboard and fling it at him, it hits him square in the face and he tumbles off the bed. You cover mouth, howling with laughter, "That's what you get!" After receiving no reply, you poke your head over the edge of the bed, checking to make sure he's okay. Instead, you receive a pillow to the face and you fall back onto the plush mattress.
"That's what you get!" Tom yells triumphantly. 
"You're so going to pay for that!" You said, grabbing the pillow and tossing it at him. 
"Oh, sure!" He mocked, sticking his tongue out, "Catch me if you can!" Tom runs out of your bedroom, almost smacking into the door frame. 
You giggle, grabbing another pillow, "Oh it's on!" 
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THE MASTERPIECE: CHAPTER 1/5
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Modern!IVAR x Reader x Modern!HVITSERK
a/n: This MASTERPIECE was so much fun. It was such an honor to do this with you @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie, you are so talented! Every hour writing and editing was definitely worth it! Thank you!
Spotify playlist: here (only for those who like latin urban music)
Words: 1913
Warnings: strong language
Summary: Ivar and Hvitserk had always prided themselves in being the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok. They had a comfortable life full of everything they wanted: houses, cars, money, and the most beautiful women. And with all of that came the security of always having the upper hand. But what happens when a bewitching girl from Ragnar’s past arrives into their lives claiming his fortune?
~~·······~~
An appointment with a lawyer was pending. He refused to give any other information on the phone about the reasons, so she had to meet him in his office.
Y/N had a hunch it was going to be a waste of her time. So out of spite, she was the last one to arrive. Not that she was ever on time. Punctuality was never one of her strong suits, but she didn't care about what others thought. She was so over their meaningless gossip.
Y/N stepped into the room and all heads turned to look at her, yet nobody knew who she was and she didn’t recognize anyone either so she excused herself and went out again. She must have been given the wrong room number.
The lawyer got up from his desk and called her name. He intercepted her midway and accompanied her back inside.
She looked exasperated; she even refused to take her coat off or sit down. Instead, she gazed around the room and noticed two young men out of the four reunited whispering emphatically at each other.
The lawyer thanked everyone for their presence and began reading from a long document.
Ivar was staring at her, wondering who the fuck she was and what she was doing at the reading of his father’s last will and testament. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize what the lawyer was saying.
"...and it is my last will that all of my houses, company shares, private artworks collection, and the entirety of my capital goes to Y/N Y/L/N.
To my sons, please, forgive me. I hope you will understand my decision and in time come to accept it. I love you all.
Signed,
Ragnar Lothbrok."
Her face froze in a gesture of confusion and old memories best left unstirred popped into her mind.
There was an oppressive stillness in the room. Everyone was twisting and turning in their seats but nobody dared to break the silence.
“That’s a mistake, right?” Y/N heard one of them say in a quiet voice after some time.
"Ma'am, could you come up to the front and sign the document, please? Ma’am?”
Yet Y/N could not move. She’d heard the lawyer’s words loud and clear but the gears in her head were still turning, in an effort to process their meaning. It couldn’t be true. Ragnar simply left after using her. Surely, he would never leave her in possession of all that he owned.
"No!" Hvitserk jumped up from the chair, shouting and banging his fist on the table.
The lawyer winced in fear. He knew of the infamous temper of all the sons of Ragnar.
"Who is she? What is she doing here?” Hvitserk turned to face Y/N. “Hey, you! How do you know my father?"
She stared blankly out of the window and didn’t answer.
He snarled his lip in disgust as his anger overtook him. “Hey, are you deaf, woman?! Who. Are. You?! Answer me!”
“Ma’am, please. The quicker you sign these documents, the quicker you can leave.” The lawyer urged her with his eyes as if he knew that a discussion like this could only end with one – or several – of them in jail.
She finally found it in her to separate her feet from their spot on the ground and move forward towards the big oak desk. As she walked in between a row of confused angry gazes, she couldn’t help but remember Ragnar’s smiling face.
These men gathered around looked as strong, proud, and reckless as he had been and it was at that moment that she understood who they were. They had to be his sons. They didn’t seem like the kind of people you would want to mess with.
And yet, she wasn’t exactly afraid of them. Fear was not what paralyzed her body; it was the realization that everything about her life was about to drastically change.
“Father... father would never do something like this,” Ivar stated in a harsh voice aimed at the lawyer. “Check that testament again!” Ivar was sure that if his mother, Aslaug, were alive, she would've threatened to take his license away and ruin his reputation if he didn’t find a way to revert Ragnar’s will.
In a split second, the room broke into protests, their contained displeasure bursting through at last.
Yet their angered voices only faded into the back of her ears as she came to understand that this could be her opportunity to get even. She slid the pen against the ivory-white sheet of paper and with a swish of her wrist she sealed all of their fates.
The brothers argued for long minutes with the lawyer but there was nothing he could do. It was beyond his power.
And as they complained, she slipped out of the room quietly.
Ivar noticed and tried to follow her in a haste, but she was already gone. He looked out the glass window of the lawyer’s office and saw her crossing the bustling street. If they didn’t hurry, they would lose her in the crowd forever.
"Come on, let's talk to her!" He urged the others.
Björn looked at his younger sibling and brooded his forehead. "No, let it be. Father wanted it this way, so we have to accept it.” He didn’t seem exactly happy about it but his tone still spoke of resignation.
Ubbe turned to Björn and nodded begrudgingly. "Yes, he’s right. It won't work, she already signed it. It’s a legitimate legal contract.”
"Hvitserk?! You know that's not fair!"
"You’re right, Ivar. She can’t get away with this! And you-” He pointed at Björn and Ubbe. “-if you don't want to fight, then we will. But don't expect us to give you back your part of the inheritance if we succeed.”
“It’s not like we need it, baby brother.” Björn shot back. “My business with Ubbe is thriving. If you want to keep living under our father’s shadow, that’s your problem.”
“As for us,” Ubbe continued his brother’s train of thought. “We’ll try to make our own path as father did once... and you two should do the same. Maybe this is for the best...”
Hvitserk and Ivar exchanged a glance, silently acknowledging that their brothers were crazy and that they were on their own on this one. They ran out of the office as fast as Ivar’s legs would allow them.
~~·······~~
“Hey! You! Hey, stop.” Y/N ignored Hvitserk’s yelling and picked up the pace but Hvitserk grabbed her arm very rudely.
"Touch me again and you’ll know just what I’m capable of, pretty boy.”
Her confidence intimidated him and he took a meek step back.
“Could we talk to you, maybe?” Ivar’s tone was much softer, and she seemed to be considering it.
“No.” She changed her mind in a split second and started walking hurriedly away from them again.
“We just want-“
“Wait!” Ivar was stopped by Hvitserk’s hand on his chest. “I have a better idea. Let’s go get the car.”
Ivar realized immediately that his brother was probably planning something insidious and he decided to give him a chance.
~~·······~~
They followed her to her home and parked at the end of the street, hoping that the massive tree in front of her house would camouflage them from her view.
“And what are we going to do now?” Ivar leaned his head on the headrest and looked beyond annoyed. They had been sitting in the car for at least two hours without making any progress.
“We’ll stay here until we find out who she is and what she wants. So, relax brother, and give it some time.”
“That doesn’t make any fucking sense and I’m hungry.” Ivar had run out of patience. “Let’s try to do this some other way.”
As they spoke, Y/N dimmed the lights inside of her house. The outline of her body was the only thing they could see. She went from one room to the next, until she sat down in one place – probably her living room – and stayed there for a while.
“She’s turning on the lights again. Look! She’s going out of the house. Duck!” They slipped down their seats and lowered their heads.
“I fucking hope you have a better plan than hiding in plain sight, Hvitserk.”
His brother frowned, his forehead creasing deeply and Ivar knew then that he had no actual plan. That was the face he made whenever he was trying to come up with something on the spot.
Ivar rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw.
“She must’ve left already... Let me go near the house. Maybe I can spot something through the windows that can help us figure out who she is.” Hvitserk muttered only half-convinced.
“Fine. But be careful! We don’t want her to find out we’re here.”
“Dude, of course.” He replied a little insulted.
Hvitserk walked up to her home with his back hunched over, trying his best to be invisible. He reached the walls of her house and slid flush to them until he reached the window. He peeped through it, trying to see what was inside.
Her home was small and humble but clean and neatly organized. She had an awful number of plants and herbs spread on various shelves as well as some lighters, smoking pipes, and what looked like a strange strain of weed, at least from that distance. So she wasn’t thatuptight after all, Hvitserk smirked cheekily.
There were dusty old books stacked on piles with weird unreadable symbols on their spine, and there were some regular documents on her kitchen table but he couldn’t make out the small letters.
Hvitserk narrowed his eyes, they probably contained a few answers. He took out his phone to snap a picture of the papers.
At that moment the front door opened and Y/N crossed her arms stiffly across her chest.
The flash of Hvitserk’s phone went off accidentally and blinded her momentarily which only made her look angrier.
“Well, wouldn’t you rather come in?” She challenged him in a sarcastic voice.
Hvitserk was pissed off and startled, but most of all, he was embarrassed, judging by the way his high cheeks flushed with blood.
“What? You thought you were being so stealthy? You guys aren’t exactly subtle...”
“We just, uh- we just want to get to know you better.” Hvitserk cleared his throat and gave her an improvised smile.
“Oh, is that so?” Y/N’s eyes twinkled for a second and her shoulders relaxed a little. “Well... If that’s the case, handsome... then you should ask me out.”
She sauntered forward to caress his chin with her index finger seductively. She flashed him a smile and Hvitserk, ever the ladies' man raised an eyebrow and smirked back, unable to help himself. All thoughts about his mission had left his head and were replaced with the signals his brain was giving him for him to notice the light caress of her fingers, her body inches away from his, and her tantalizing lips so close to his face.
“Or... you could just fuck off!” Y/N shoved him, sending him tumbling backward until his ass hit the grass, then she smacked the door on Hvitserk’s face with a smug smile. “Asshole.”
It’s this easy to fool a guy. She thought with amusement.
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sheadre · 3 years
Text
Aurora Borealis (Jiang Cheng x Reader) Part Two
Summary: Zhu Ran'En (Reader) the imperial princess, was sent into exile for a crime she did not commit. Meeting Jiang Wanyin, the Yunmeng Jiang sect's leader was not just a chance meeting. Their fates were written in the stars however, her relations to the royal family will never let her live in peace. How will she manage to save the kingdom while trying to keep Jiang Wanyin away from the snakes of the royal family?
Word count: 3281
Warnings: this story contains violence, blood, mindgames, scheming, angst, romance, fluff with Jiang Cheng, awkward flirting.
A/N: If you liked this story, please like and comment or reblog! You may find this story on quotev.com/Vaeri or on ao3. Please check out my other works in the Mo Dao Zu Shi fandom! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!<(^-^)>
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You sat in silence as you sipped on your tea with your face ordered into nonchalance. You got used to having to wear a neutral mask around people in the palace and it was a habit that couldn’t be easily left behind. Your (e/c) eyes looked the sect leader over who was eying you with suspicion. He was handsome as was told by many in the kingdom, his features chiseled and strong, his body lean and tall. You already had time to check him out when you first encountered him but a second glance couldn’t hurt, now could it?
If you would still be a part of the court, your father would definitely try and engage you to Jiang Wanyin. Your father always wished for a strong son-in-law who could protect his daughter. And this time, you wouldn’t protest.
“Imperial guards are asking about your highness all around the other towns in this region” Jiang Wanyin spoke up with a scowl. “You are already spending your time in exile.”
“My dear cousin wishes to secure her place in the court and fears that I will take action” you shrugged. “Not that she is wrong.”
“Your highness, are you planning something?” Jiang Wanyin grumbled, his eyes sparkling with lightning. “I warn you, there will be innocent people caught in the middle of your war against whoever offended you in the court. I’m here for them.”
“And I tell you that those innocent people might all be wiped out if you try and restrain me from taking action. Do you even know why I’m here?” you narrowed your eyes at him, your fingernails rattling against the wooden surface of the small table. It seemed Jiang Wanyin failed to dig deeper than the rumors going on around about the case, his light blush of embarrassment was indicating that. You sighed heavily and picked up the kettle to refill your cups while taking a breath to continue: “I caught my cousin and uncle, the second prince talking about money embezzlement and money laundering. They realized their mistake and now I’m here. To simply put it…”
“There is something more to that if your highness seems to be in such a distressed state” the sect leader noted calmly his eyebrows still furrowed. You wondered if anything would make him smile in his life. You imagined him smiling and hid the picture in the back of your mind. He would give a magnificent sight for sure.
“I advise you to not interfere with my plans… if a commoner like you get caught in the war of the royal family, what do you think might become your future?” you asked. Sitting back down, you pulled your hands in your lap but held his stare.
“Those kind of wars always end up being the public’s demise. Are you planning on sacrificing innocent people?” Jiang Wanyin asked back lifting his chin and you could tell that he was already determined in getting involved.
“I plan to earn the emperor’s favor again” you replied not wanting to argue anymore with him. There was no point, you could just leave him out of everything. You didn’t need his help nor wanted it. He had no idea of the monsters ruling the kingdom and how many people would be devoured by them. You got reminded of the hard times in the palace you spent with cornering people, avoiding corrupt ministers’ hands grabbing onto your sleeves so they could get you involved in their shady businesses. Your cousin always tried to get you in trouble so you would get executed but to her misfortune you were too smart.
“By starting a war?!” Jiang Cheng gritted his teeth angrily.
“Starting one?!” you jumped to your feet from anger. Of course, the sect leader wouldn’t know about anything of your plans but his nosiness annoyed you. “I’m going to end the rebellion the war generals of Wu, Yan and Jin are planning!”
“Rebellion?” his jaw went slack. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms in front of your chest with a huff.
“If you were sharp enough to notice the imperial guards roaming the area, you should’ve rather noticed the brewing war under our feet” you noted as you sat back down. You didn’t really care about the fact that he left out your title by now. You were convinced that you didn’t need his help but… maybe you were wrong and should consider accepting his hand if he would offer. You had no army, Jiang Wanyin had, you had no connection to the other sects, he had. Then you started massaging the bridge of your nose continuing: “Forgive me for my words… I did not mean to be so harsh, it is only frustrating me so much that I know what awaits us if my cousin and uncle wins. The emperor is old and sickly, everyone is already preparing for the coronation of Crown Prince… however, without me looking out for his highness, I have no idea if he will live long enough to become emperor.”
Silence stretched between you two, him staring you down while you sipped on your tea with the perfect mask of calm. It was quite easy to pull it on by now. You were already planning your next move as you sat there. Perhaps, Jiang Wanyin could be a key character in your heroic story, you just needed to pull the strings in the right way… but that was quite hard.
“Your highness, I am only here to warn you” Jiang Cheng spoke up suddenly and stood up then. “Do not sacrifice innocent people.” His eyes were spitting lightning at you from where he stood before Jiang Cheng turned around and stormed out of the mansion. You smiled at his lack of manners, his temper reminded you of a friend you left in the palace. You wondered how Xiao Pei was doing now that he was by himself. He got a high rank in the military but everyone knew of your good relations. He was like a little brother to you.
You knew that Jiang Wanyin will come back to you in the near future. The news about a rebellion of the three small counties was spreading. Wu, Yan and Jin generals had authority over the three counties closest to where Yunmeng was located. Yunmeng would be the first to meet their united armies once the generals would advance towards the capital. However, you had much to do in the meantime. With a smirk you went back to your study and rolled out a blank parchment.
Jiang Cheng’s PoV.
Jiang sect leader was furious by the way the princess was acting. There was a war brewing under their feet and she was only adamant on getting her place back at the palace. Her position was more important to her than anything else! She was just like the other royals, sacrificing innocent people for wealth and power. He felt foolish for hoping that maybe Zhu Ran’En was different and was rebelling to stop injustice. He was wrong.
For a second he hoped that she was different, that she was using the dark ways of cultivation because she needed to. However, the evil glint in her eyes told him otherwise. Arriving back to Yunmeng gave him a feeling of calm and tranquility. As the days passed, he easily forgot about the princess, work piling up. He spent nights figuring out the financials and counting how much money they needed for the replacements of training dummies and other supplies. Wei Wuxian showed up with his… husband, Hanguang-Jun and was annoying Jiang Cheng to the point he was sporting a massive headache.
“Ah, Jiang Cheng! I heard you went after the Dark Princess!” Wei Ying burst into the study with a large excited grin on his face. Wanyin was already starting to massage his temples but had yet to yell at his brother. “Is she as pretty as the rumors say?! How was she?!”
“Why are you so excited suddenly, ay?” Wanyin asked back as he put down the brush knowing that he won’t be doing any more progress today. “Have you got tired of Hanguang-Jun?”
“Wha-?! Why are you saying such things, Jiang Cheng?!” Wei Wuxian leaned forward right into Jiang Cheng’s face with a scrutinizing gaze before his face lit up like he found the problem for world peace. “Are you being defensive because you like her?!”
“Wha-?! Why would I like her?!” Wanyin jumped up to his feet with his fists trembling by his sides. “She’s evil and vicious! She’s not pretty at all! Just one of the pampered princesses only caring about wealth!”
“Did you get rejected by her?” Wei Ying narrowed his eyes in thought as he tried to guess. “That is why you’re so sour, Jiang Cheng?”
“Who is sour?! Huh?!” Wanyin felt like jumping out of his skin. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to strangle his brother or run away and never look back until he found peace. Lately that term seemed to not exist. People were always finding him for something. A broken practice dummy here, a young disciple in need of a practice sword because the one he had was lost to the river or broken. Was it really such a luxurious request to just be left alone for a while?
What irked the sect leader even more was the fact that Wei Wuxian was not the first person to ask him about the matters of marriage. The elders expressed their concern of a sect heir because other men in his age was already married with at least two children. It wasn’t about him not having any interest in the matter but he was just too busy to think about it. He had no time to court anyone and he refused to just marry a woman he never met before.
“Wei Ying” came suddenly Hanguang-Jun’s quiet voice and just like an obedient pet, Wei Wuxian turned to his husband with a wide smile on his face and hurried over to the entering cultivator. At least, Hanguang-Jun still had manners and bowed to Jiang Cheng upon entering the study. “It is time we leave Jiang sect leader to his duties and do not bother him longer. We have to take care of those ghosts in Chongyang.”
“Alright…” the Yiling Patriarch sighed deflating at the lost chance to annoy his brother further. Jiang Wanyin walked his guests out to the pier with prayers to the heavens for helping him out. His thoughts then turned back to Zhu Ran’En. What was she planning? She was so sure about her success it was giving him chills. She was definitely an enemy he didn’t want to make.
At Chongyang:
The city was quiet. The people were all acting scared and worried, lines were forming on their forehead the second they spotted someone unfamiliar. Fog was encasing the whole city, vendors closed their shops and went to somewhere safe. The small inn which welcomed Hanguang-Jun and Wei Wuxian with reluctance was close to the middle of the city. Wei Wuxian tried to ask around about the sightings of the ghosts but got short replies of the same kind. All of the people were talking about the grey clothed ghosts or corpses who roamed the city at night and killed those who stepped foot on the streets. A few men mentioned that it all started after the appearance of a man in the clothes of the royal officials. No one knew what the man was doing in the city or if he was still around.
It all sounded suspicious to him. So Hanguang-Jun and Wei Ying decided to stay at the inn and see what happens at night. Wei Wuxian sat with his back to his husband’s chest when his ears suddenly perked up at the sound of an erhu. He jumped up and went to the window not caring about his state of clothing. He scanned the area with his eyes narrowed and soon spotted a dark figure standing on the rooftop of the building forty chi distance far from his position. The delicate figure of a woman was sitting on the rooftop with an erhu in her lap. A cold calmness was surrounding her as the wind blew her long dark hair.
“Lan Zhan, look” he mumbled while his husband walked up behind him.
“Resentful energy” Hanguang-Jun said with a low voice.
“Mnn” Wei Wuxian nodded and pulled his robes tighter around himself fixing it before grabbing Chenqing. “Let’s check it out!”
Your PoV.
The city was quiet as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. You always loved to watch life go by under your feet when you observed the world from the rooftop of a building. It was calming, like you weren’t a part of the world and could disappear from sight to watch everything happen without actually taking part in anything. You sat there in silence as the sky turned dark and the stars appeared. The fog around the city only obscured the vision of the starry night sky from those who stood below. However, you could easily admire the beauty of the night. Then you heard it. Otherworldly grunts and moans coming from below.
Liu Minister, who visited the city a few days ago and whom you should’ve met here disappeared when the animated corpses started roaming the city at night. The minister – who was your good ally – sent letter to you about someone following him since he left the Imperial palace in the capital. Pulling out your erhu from your back, you smiled mischievously while you hummed a tune. A tune you learnt from your mother. 恶梦È mèng (Wicked Dream) was the song your mother taught you when her family was accused of treason and got executed. After that, your mother lost the favor of the emperor and was the laughing stock of the people in court. The night you found her dead body, you heard those notes coming from her quarters. You promised yourself to find her killer because even if she was ashamed, even if she lost the favor of the emperor, she would’ve never committed suicide.
The notes were flying in the air as you played. Resentful energy surrounding you before black mist circled the animated corpses and closed around them. You were curious if the culprit would show themselves if you annoyed them with binding the corpses together. Your ears then perked up and before the two newcomers could land on the rooftop you were sitting on, you jumped over to another one.
“Ah, I remember you!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed with a large grin on his face. “You’re the lady who gave up the table for us!”
“Ahaha, nice seeing you again, Young master” you smiled at him.
“You’re using resentful energy” Hanguang-Jun stated but his tone was not scolding. There was no warning in his words, just a simple statement, an observation. You expected a different reception when you thought about meeting this pair again.
“What can this humble one do?” you asked, shrugging your shoulders with a pout. “This is the only way for me to cultivate.”
“Don’t you have a golden core, Imperial Princess?” the Yiling Patriarch asked then. Your smile widened before you let out a mirthful laugh. He was smarter than you thought he was. If he would be your opponent at court, you would have fun for sure.
“A princess is taught to learn embroidery and etiquette, Wei gōngzǐ” you replied squinting your eyes before turning to the corpses. “Don’t you find it interesting that these appear once a minister disappears? Hmn?”
You were well aware of him noticing how you changed the subject but it seemed he decided not to object to it. It was clear you weren’t his enemy which in your opinion was based on where he was standing when your plans were executed. Opinions and interests can change in a matter of time after all. Then you heard clapping from down below. Tap. Tap. Tap-tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap. It was repeated once more before the corpses broke out of your energy shield. Their angry moans and grunts could be heard as they approached the buildings you were standing on. Soon, screaming was heard from the house and you saw that it was the house of a merchant.
You stamped your foot on the tiles which broke under the force and a hole opened up under you. You landed inside the bedroom of the frightened merchant and his wife who were hiding behind the over turned table. The corpses stumbled inside toppling over each other but you were quick enough the cut them off before they could get to the pair. Hanguang-Jun and Wei Wuxian was soon following you through the hole and before you had to say anything, Lan Wangji grabbed the husband and wife and took them to safety. Unleashing your full power felt like you opened the gate of a dam. Yet it felt even more liberating when the Yiling Patriarch followed you in tow.
You saw the grin spreading on his lips and knew that he felt the same thing. This burst of power was enough to decapitate all the corpses in close proximity. You hurried downstairs and went out to the street to be faced with more animated corpses. Your sword was a simple sword but was your trusted ally in battles by now. It shimmered in the light of the few lampions placed above the street. Otherwise, the fog made it hard to see further than one chǐ. (That’s like half a meter)
You heard someone whistle with the wind from the distance. You cursed under your breath knowing that the culprit was already too far for you to catch up.
“Lan Zhan went after him” Wei Wuxian spoke up from behind you suddenly. Then you heard the dull thud of corpses falling to the ground. The puppet master was too far to control the corpses.
“He’s too far by now…” you sighed with your eyebrows furrowed.
“Your Highness seems to be upset” he noted stepping closer to you.
“The Minister who visited the city before the corpses appeared…” you started staring at the ground as the fog dissolved around you. “He is a good man but I think he is dead by now or at least the culprit took him with themselves.”
“You are familiar with the minister, aren’t you, Your Highness?” he asked.
“Stop calling me that, Wei gongzi” you shook your head with a sad smile. “I no longer possess the title, not officially.”
“The man got away” Hanguang-Jun spoke up once he landed in front of the two of you. “But he tried to obscure my vision with this.” He lifted his hand with a handkerchief in it. Your eyes widened and quickly approached him taking it from his outstretched hand. The fabric was one of the most expensive materials, only the imperial palace had access to something of the kind. It was a pearly white with the symbol of the Huang house.
“That dirty pip-squeak! Cui!*” you spat angrily as your hand curled into a fist with the handkerchief between your fingers.
“I assume your highness is troubled over the matter” Wei Wuxian quipped curiosity shining in his eyes. You turned around and started walking towards the other direction as you said.
“This is an Imperial matter, please stay out of trouble” your voice rang through the street even when the fog already swallowed you. “This is way too dangerous for those who do not belong to the court.”
To be continued…
*Cuì=啐 is a sound for spitting.
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animemangasoul · 4 years
Text
You Are Wanted Obi-Wan Kenobi
Summery: Qui-Gon lives and Mace gets a new Padawan.
In which Qui-Gon repudiates Obi-Wan and Mace isn't about to let the kid leave the order without a fight.
Chapter: 2/10
The world shifted.
And Mace had not been prepared for it. The minute his decision in taking Obi-Wan Kenobi had cemented itself in his head, the second he knew, the very moment his calmness on the matter had faded, the world shifted.
New Shatterpoints.
It sent a shiver down his spine and his head practically ached with pain. To think young Kenobi held such a crucial place in their collective future that the world itself rearranged at Mace's choice.
How...... curious.
Briskly walking out of his last council meeting for the day, Mace rubbed a tired hand over his brow and sighed. It had been two days since he made his decision to take the repudiated Padawan as his own and yet he hadn't gone down to the Halls to see Kenobi yet. Sure he'd been busy; force knew being the Master of the Order didn't leave much room for time off, but he also knew that before he decided to take Obi-Wan as his Padawan, he had gone to see the kid every evening, so this; he frowned, this felt like an excuse.
And for the life of him he couldn't figure out why he was making one.
He had made his choice, Obi-Wan Kenobi was his choice, so why was he stalling?
Exchanging final words with Plo, allowing Kit to talk him into a night out with the others (sometime next week) and causally avoiding Depa's searching glare, Mace finally wrapped up all that needed to be said and extracted himself from his fellow council members to finally get back to his rooms and relax.
"Troubling you, something is."
Mace stiffened.
Coming upon Master Yoda on his way back to his quarters was..... unexpected.
The green troll was standing down the hall staring out one of the giant windows looking down at the courtyard. The Korun man briefly wondered how the Grandmaster had managed to get ahead of him without him noticing. A thought he quickly discarded because this was Master Yoda and the old Jedi was an anomaly wrapped up in centuries of tricks. For all Mace knew, there was a hidden vent from the council chambers all the way to his rooms that Master Yoda had taken advantage of.
The sudden imagine of the tiny Master squeezing himself into a little tunnel, hobbling quickly to get ahead of him made Mace bite his tongue before he did something inappropriate as laugh.
"Hello again Master Yoda." He said instead, coming to a stop next to the wise old Master. "What brings you here?"
He saw the gimer stick coming and yet the hit was unavoidable. Mace hissed, long having outgrown rubbing at the painful sting of his ankles.
"Troubled you are."  Yoda's ears were flat against his head as he spoke and while he wasn't looking at him, the light reprimand and concern floated between them in the force. "Talk to me about them you should."
Mace folded his hands behind his back standing tall and rigged, gaze tracing the evening sun before sighed. "I made a choice and now I seem to be too wary to carry it out." The words leave his mouth with a certain level of reluctance but there was no one he trusted more to point him in the right direction than Master Yoda, so he spoke his hidden truth, hoping the old Master could guide him. "Perhaps I was too hasty."
This time he let out an audible grunt when the gimer stick swatted against his knee again, harshly. "Trust in the force you will!" Yoda reprimanded. "Never known you to disregard the will of the force. If what you have decided to do is led by the force, well to follow it, you are!" Yoda's ears are once again droopy, claws clutching his gimer stick tightly.  "Chance to do right by young Kenobi this is, take it you most. Take it, I ask of you."
The force shuddered and expanded, Yoda's voice was but a whisper despite how powerful it came out, and Mace clenched his fists, fingers digging into his wrists. "Is it me that he needs?" he asked; yes lingering on the fading lights. "Or am I inserting myself into a spot meant for another?" He wasn't even remotely surprised the old Jedi knew who he was talking about.
Yoda slammed his stick into the ground. "Qui-Gon it was not!"
Mace winced.
"Perhaps you, it was always meant to be!"
Mace wasn't so sure.
How had he been so confident two days ago, only to falter with every minute that passed? Mace was no coward. So what if there were a few new Shatterpoints? So what if the future was even more uncertain now. What did it all matter so long as the force was with him? What did it mater if he knew in his heart he'd made the right choice? And he knew, oh he knew he'd made the right choice. After all, he wouldn't let that bright kid go. No, not without a fight.
Then what, what was holding him back from going to the Halls and relieving the young one of his burden of uncertainty?
"Let your fear rule you, you most not."
Eyes widening slightly, Mace opened his mouth to retort, but a wave of Yoda's hand silenced him. "Fear rejection you do. Also fear an uncertain future you do. Silly it is," he forcefully carried on when Mace once again tried to interrupt him. "But emotions rarely rational they are. Fear you have. release it into the force you most. Need you Obi-Wan does."
He wanted to protest against the accusation of fear, deny the ridiculousness of Yoda's claim, but he couldn't. Loathed as he was to admit it, the Grandmaster's words rang true. He was afraid. His decision to take young Kenobi as his Padawan while having not been subconsciously spontaneous, it had consciously been a surprise. He wanted to train the kid. Of course he did.
Maybe it was his destiny all along.
But the world shifted when he made his choice. New Shatterpoints had appeared. Perhaps galaxy defining Shatterpoints, and he hadn't even asked the child to become his Padawan yet. What would happen when he did? His head was aching as if lightsabers were going through it. His mind burning with the unraveling of the world as he knew it.
And yes, he was also worried that Kenobi might not want him as a Master. Might try to hold out for a Master who had more time on his hands. Or else, why wouldn't the kid have just asked him directly if he would consider taking him?
'You know why,' his inner voice hissed back. 'He has been rejected one too many times.'
Fear of rejection. Mace supposed they might both be suffering from it currently. Him who had yet to take on a Padawan after his Depa. And Obi-Wan who was dismissed by the one man who had openly accepted him; not that Qui-Gon's several rejections of the child didn't make Mace's blood boil with righteous fury.
Two of a kind.
Maybe it was always meant to be.
"Fear is the path to the dark side," he finally muttered back, lips twitching slightly as he imitated the Grandmaster. "Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering."
"Insufferable you are."
He couldn't help but snort, watching from the corner of his eye as Yoda's ears perk back up. "I am."
"Understood have you?"
"Yes."
"Let go of your fears have you?" Yoda had fully turned around to look at him now. His all too seeing eyes fixing him with a stare of thousand solar systems. Mace paused before answering. Taking a second to focus on the pulsating headache drumming against his temple, his worries for the future and his fears concerning young Obi-Wan Kenobi.
He sighed. Turning around to face the old Jedi Master.
"Not yet," he said, bowing deeply. "But I will. Thank you Master Yoda." And with that he took a step back, turned and walked toward the direction from which he came.
"Your quarters the other way they are," Yoda called after him, the mischief in his tone quite obvious. Mace nearly had to bite back a grin.
"I have something urgent to take care off," he answered back, not slowing down. "It's long overdue."
Yoda didn't say anything else. Choosing to remain quiet. But his satisfaction and pride in his fellow council member swirled around them in the force, making the Korun man shake his head, a smile dancing at the corner of his mouth.
It was about time someone set him straight.
--------------
Master Che gave him a look. "You haven't been here in a while."
Her tone was casual enough but only a fool wouldn't sense the reproach behind them. Mace inclined his head in apology. "I'm sorry Master Che, I have been busy."
"You better have." She snapped. "Your absence has been noted by Obi-Wan and that boy does not need any more concern on his shoulders." She paused then, stern gaze softening into an almost hopeful gaze. "Did you find him a Master?"
Mace shook his head, raising his hand when disappointment briefly flickered over the medic's face. "I haven't been looking for one these past two days, Vokara."
Brows furrowing, his old friend crossed her arms. "Pray tell, why not?" There was no judgement or accusation in her tone, just puzzled curiosity.
The Korun man shrugged. "I have decided to ask him myself."
Vokara froze.
Her lekku's turning a shade darker before her cheeks flushed with pleasure. The realization dawning on her with happiness. Lips expanding into a warm smile that crinkled the corner of her eyes, she reached out to squeeze his shoulder. "That's wonderful news, Mace."
He nodded back, uncertainties of these past two days long having faded away. "I do hope young Kenobi feels the same," he joked back lightly, making the Twi'lek woman slap him gently on the shoulder.
"Of course he would," she said, looking incredulously at him. "He would be ecstatic. Now go in there and tell him the news. He's been waiting."
Stepping back, Mace bowed. "Thank you my friend."
She brushed it away. "Anytime. Now go."
Bowing again, he was just about to side step her into the adjacent hall to find Obi-Wan, when her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. Mace paused, turning around to meet Vokara's eyes. A conflict of emotions were flashing across her face.
"What is it?"
She frowned, dropping her hand. "Don't do anything irrational," she warned. "But Qui-Gon was here yesterday."
"What?" The words were nothing but a whisper,
"Qui-Gon came to see Obi-Wan yesterday."
Mace didn't even notice when his hands clenched into fists, when his nails dug into his palms, crescent moons carving into his flesh. It's only when Vokara grabbed and squeezed them that he uncurled and breathed out slowly. "What did he want?"
Her frown deepened. "To check up on Obi-Wan. He was worried. But I told him the kid wasn't to be stressed out and seeing his old Master could do that to him, so I forbid it."
"Check up on---" Mace stiffened. After everything Qui-Gon had put that kid through, after what he did to him. Kenobi had saved his life and yet Qui-Gon had thrown him away so easily..... And now, now he wanted to check up on him! Where had he been when the kid woke up for the first time, confused, scared and asking for his Master. Where was he when Obi-Wan reached up to tug at his braid and found it gone. Where…..
Mace couldn't…. Couldn't understand how Qui-Gon was so oblivious, so loving and so cruel at the same time. To abandon someone and then turn around to what? See if they were cooping well with the trauma you've gone and added to their already mountain high issues? No wonder Feemor had never forgiven the man. Clearly he was still just as reckless, just as careless just as damaging.
"Master Windu?"
Mace couldn't reconcile his oldest friend, his crèchemate with the man he'd become. Kriff, he couldn't reconcile him with the man that held young Obi-Wan close after his battle with the Sith. Couldn't compute how the same man who'd repudiated the child, had sobbed over his still body, had tried to heal his wound while begging his Padawan to hang on, had pressed his cheek into the auburn hair and whispered sweet, comforting words into the dying Kenobi's ear.
"Mace?"
Obi-Wan wouldn't have survived without Qui-Gon refusing to let him go.
And yet…..
He'd thrown him away the minute he hadn't gotten his way with the council. The minute he'd found his Chosen One.
"Mace!"
His eyes snapped open were they'd somehow fallen shut while his memories had gotten away with him.
Vokara's hands squeezed his shoulders almost painfully tight. "Breathe Mace," she said, blue lips pulled tightly at the corners. "Breathe. Release your emotions into the force."
"How dare he," he muttered, eyes narrowing, even as he breathed in and his anger slowly dissipated into the force. Acknowledged, accepted, and let go. "How kriffing dare he."
"I know."
The pale understanding in the medic's eyes made Mace feel just a little bit better. They both had a rather soft spot for young Kenobi, hell, Mace was sure most Jedi felt the same, so of course this whole situation with Qui-Gon was, upsetting.
Running a tired hand across his brow, the Korun man exhaled. "Did Kenobi see him?"
Vokara's forehead twisted. "No, but I doubt he didn't sense him."
Sighing again, Mace nodded. "Could you let me know if he comes back? I would like to talk to him before he gets the chance to speak with Kenobi."
"I will." she said pushing him down the hall. "Now go. I'm sure Obi-Wan is wondering what's taking you so long."
Mace snorted, shoulders slumping and calmness settling over him once more. "Very well. Good day Master Che."
"Goo day to you as well Master Windu," she hummed, strolling past him in the opposite direction.
-----------------
Mace walked into the familiar private hospital room that had only a year ago been dubbed as Obi-Wan's second bedroom by the medics. The amount of times he spent there, Mace wasn't really surprised. 'Now it's his only bedroom,' a traitorous voice whispered in the back of his mind before Mace shoved it away rather forcefully.
His eyes first landed on the pile of Get Well cards that had practically tripled in numbers since the last time he'd been here. Gaze catching on the uneven, slightly crooked looking one standing front and center. Mace studied it.
Childish squiggly lines wrote out in bold letters, "Lots of Health Mr. Obi-Wan!"
The writer had obviously struggled in making it. Several lines had been scratched out and rewritten. Basic was clearly not the gifter's first language. Mace blinked, gaze focusing on the young man staring back at him from the hospital bed, biting back a wince at the several Shatterpoints surrounding Kenobi in the force. "Skywalker?" he asked, nodding at the card.
Kenobi's lips drew into a rueful little smile and nodded back. "Yeah," he said, lifting a book from behind all the flowers and cards, waving it for Mace to see. "I'm helping him practice Basic." Looking at the card next to him, Kenobi's smile turned a little less sad and a little more genuine. "He's a quick study."
For a single moment Mace Windu was dumbstruck by the sheer kindness that was Obi-Wan Kenobi. Anakin Skywalker had come and turned the kid's world on it's head and here Kenobi was; while recovering from a life ending injury, helping Skywalker learn how to read.
Mace just knew then, without a shadow of a doubt, Kenobi would be a great Jedi someday. If not the greatest.
'Maybe not the most powerful,' he thought, pulling up a chair next to the kid's bed. 'But no doubt the greatest.'  After all, he embodied the epitome of what it meant to be a Jedi. Compassioned, kind, brilliant--- Mace briefly let himself reach out for the boy's force signature--- And with a light so bright maybe someday it would chase the darkness of their future away.
"So he's been visiting you?" he asked, crossing his arms then his legs, leveling the kid with his full attention.
Brushing the shock of red hair out of his eyes, Obi-Wan smiled softly. "Yeah. He was a bit skittish when he came here to see me a couple of days ago--- After you left for that debriefing," his brows scrunched up in thought as he nodded to himself. "Yes, I do believe it was around seven days ago." Here his eyes lost a little bit of that dull sheen of emptiness. And it made Mace feel just a little bit appreciative of the troublemaking terror that was Skywalker. "We talked. It was a bit…." waving his hand lazily, Obi-Wan shrugged. "Awkward at first but he was pleasant enough company and it was nice having someone around who didn't feel sorry for me outside of my injuries or knew about my…. Circumstances."
Mace nodded. "And when did you start reading The Little Jedi to him?" Picking the children book out of Kenobi's hands he looked down at the old worn cover.
"I wasn't reading it to him," the kid protested, crossing his own arms before pain flashed through his eyes and he dropped them almost immediately. Mace did not comment on it, but noted to himself to let Vokara know before he left for the night. "He was having trouble sounding out a couple of words and I offered to help. And then I suppose it became a thing," he ended it with a shrug.
"And the card?" Mace smiled.
Now the flicker of pride in Obi-Wan's eyes could be felt throughout his force presence, even behind the pain, uncertainty, the fear and worry. "Anakin is learning how to write and he..... he said this was the first thing he wrote on his own." Blinking quickly, Obi-Wan turned away from him, eyes fixating on his own fingers plucking at the covers. "He's a good kid, Master Windu."
"I do not doubt that," Mace replied softly, a finger tracing the face of the cartoonish Jedi. And he didn't doubt it. Sure Skywalker was a walking, talking Shatterpoint, but he was a good kid, that he could believe.
A companionable silence descended between them. Both parties lost in their own thoughts for a while. But it wasn't long before Obi-Wan started to fidget. 'Something was on his mind,' Mace thought, could practically taste it in the force. The kid was nervous, his feelings racing and battling each other around them despite how strong his shields were. The Korun man elected to wait him out. If Kenobi wanted to ask him something it was prudent to let the kid find the courage to do so. Pushing young Obi-Wan rarely worked and after having gotten to know him a little better, Mace would admit he had started to adjust to the kid's tells.
And finally, after the minutes had trickled on by; Mace content in flipping through the children book in his lap, Obi-Wan mustered up the courage to ask what he'd been clearly dying to ask all along.
"Master Windu, what did Master Olu'omla say?"
Closing the book and putting it aside, Mace captured Obi-Wan's eyes with his own. "I don't know."
A blink of stunned surprise. "Why not?"
Mace shrugged. "I didn't ask him."
Another tense silence. Mace waited.
And then, with nothing but a whisper and traces of fear coiling around him in the force, Obi-Wan broke eye contact. "Is it because you knew he wouldn't accept…." a hitch of his breath. "Me?"
"No," Mace said carefully and then stopped. He couldn't for the life of him say it. And for the love of the force why was it so hard for him to spit out the words he'd been wanting to say ever since he'd talked to Depa, hell, even before then. Before he'd asked any Masters he had wanted to ask Obi-Wan himself. So why wouldn't these blasted words come out.
["Let your fear rule you, you most not."]
Master Yoda was a wise Jedi.
"No," he tried again. "It wasn't because of his acceptance or lack of acceptance that I didn't ask him. It's because I wished to ask you myself." A deep breath. "So," he said, meeting the shocked gaze of the kid and refusing to let himself falter. "Will you Obi-Wan Kenobi become my Padawan learner?"
Silence.
The kid had paled significantly, nearly invisible freckles now practically shining like beacons where they were scattered across his nose. He looked so dazed Mace was momentarily worried the poor child would pass out on him and Vokara would hear of it and never let him visit again.
"Me? Your…. Your Padawa--- Me?"
Was that a squeak?
Mace bit his lip to prevent the snort that threatened to slip out at the scandalized young man in front of him; now beat red from sounding so undignified.
"Yes," Mace said, lips quirking up despite his best effort. "It is a rather simple question, Kenobi."
"But… I…. You," Almost pointing at him, the kid faltered, probably remembering his manners and then pointing at himself instead, eyes as huge at dinner plates. "Me…. Bu--- I don't understand," he finally spluttered, looking relieved he'd managed to at least string together one complete sentence.
"What is there not to understand?"
Mace was a Jedi. He was not supposed to find humour in someone else's distress let alone a young Padawan learner, but Kenobi's shock was so amusing he couldn't help but tease him, just a little.
But then---
"Why would you want me?" The question unraveled such insecurity in the kid, Mace heart ached. Even as the auburn haired youth tried to keep his emotions in check, face carefully blank, fingers folded atop of each other as not to give anything away, his eyes. Oh his eyes were the gateway to Kenobi's uncontrollable waves of emotions and Mace could see them all.
"Because you're a remarkable Jedi," he said carefully, reaching out to squeeze the kid's shoulder like he did so many nights ago. "And I would be honored to take you Obi-Wan Kenobi the rest of the way to your Knighthood if you let me."
Blue-green eyes sparkled with tears. Bottom lip quiver ever so slightly.
"Oh."
Mace squeezed his shoulder again.
"But why," here Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, eyes darting around the room, careful not to meet his gaze. "If you wanted to ask me…. Why didn't you---" he couldn't seem to finish his question. A sting of pain carrying across the force over to Mace.
"Why didn't I ask you before?"
The kid nodded, fingers clenching his wrist, the distinctly missing Jedi robes unable to hide his habit. Which Obi-Wan most have noticed a second later for he immediately let go, curling into himself as if to protect his heart from words he knew would break him in half.
Qui-Gon had truly done a number on this child.
Mace sighed. "In all honesty," he said, keeping his voice low. "I'm not your best choice."
Raising a hand to stop whatever outburst coming his way, he shook his head. Obi-Wan clicked his mouth shut and looked down. "What I meant," Mace said. "Is that being on the council, being the Master of the Order does not leave me much room to go of planet. And you will have plenty of missions of planet as a senior Padawan."
"I can do solo missions, It won't be my first time--"
"I know," Mace cut him off. "I know. But that doesn't mean that there won't be difficult missions that are too dangerous for you to take alone and for those you will need your Master. That's why I didn't think I could be enough for you. That along with the limited time I'll have in training you is the reason why I didn't ask you before. You deserved better."
Obi-Wan was glaring at him now. "Then why did you change your mind? Is it because no one else wanted me and you feel sorry for me? Did Master Yoda put you up to th--"
"Kenobi, stop."
Obi-Wan's mouth snapped shut even while the glare was still present and accounted for. Hurt feelings suffocating the force around them, making Mace sigh again. Qui-Gon had stepped on this kid's self esteem until there was nothing left.
'Stop Mace,' he told himself as soon as his anger started to show its ugly head. 'Punching a fellow Jedi in the face is against the Code.'
"I'm sure I could find another Master for you if I looked Obi-Wan," he said softly, leveling the kid with a stern look. "And do you really think I would go out of my way to pity you?" Before the kid could get a word in, Mace raised his voice, silently cutting him off. "No, I chose you because despite how complicated our partnership might become due to my prior obligations, I'm willing to make it work. If that means delegating some of my council duties to someone else so be it. Hell, if that means I will have to step down temporarily to complete your training then I will do so." And it's only when those words leave his mouth, that Mace knew how very true they were. "You deserve to make your own choices Kenobi. Not to have those around you make them for you. So yes, I don't believe I am your best choice. There are plenty of Masters that could prepare you for your Trials and teach you what you need to know without having to balance it with other duties outside of your education, but I am willing to make it work, for you. If you'll have me."
Never had Mace spoken his heart out like this. Not in a very long time. But for young Kenobi….. "So," he said, trying and failing to smile at the tear stricken face of the suddenly oh so small kid sitting in front of him in that hospital bed. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, will you do me the honors of becoming my Padawan learner and let me guide you to Knighthood?"
Mace hadn't expect the hug.
But when Obi-Wan flung his bedsheets away and threw himself at him, spindly arms tightening around his neck with a sob, instinct took over and Mace pulled him close. Hand curling around the back of Obi-Wan's neck, his other arm circling around his waist; careful not to jolt the kid's injuries.
He let the boy cry against him. The silent sobs wrecking his body as Obi-Wan's sheer relief nearly drowned them both within the force.
He most have been so scared.
"There, there young one," Mace muttered, running his fingers through the slightly long hair that they'd have to cut as soon as possible. The kid was his Padawan now after all. And speaking off. "You have yet to answer me Kenobi," he said, lips quirking up even as the kid's tears soaked his tunic. "Does that mean you don't want me as your Mas--"
"No," Obi-Wan nearly shouted, scrambling back into his bed and staring at him in absolute wonderment. "I mean yes, I mean.... I want to be your Padawan!" He blinked furiously as his eyes seemed to well up again. "Thank you, thank you Master Wind---- Thank you, Master."
When Mace smiled at that single word, he was met with a radiant nearly blinding smile in return. One that lit up the force like thousand sunsets and thousand sunrises.
It was heartachingly beautiful.
"No." he whispered, somehow finding his eyes a bit wet. "Thank you, Padawan mine."
And Obi-Wan's smile grew even brighter as if such miracles were possible and the force sang with pleasure.
------------
"Lay back down, Padawan. We have an early morning ahead of us and you need the rest." Master Che had been very clear in her instructions when she'd come to check in on them about an hour ago. Smiling her congratulations when Obi-Wan had told her the news. Mace did not wish to cross her. She'd already let him over extended the visitation hours.
Eyes lighting up at the use of the word he probably thought he'd never hear again, Obi-Wan pulled at his new braid and frowned. "I'm not tired." His new Padawan braid lacked any beads or bands; Mace having braided it in the traditional way of his lineage had left them out as those accomplishment had all been repudiated by Qui-Gon, but Mace swore to himself that those final beads his Padawan earned before his Trials would be all the more worth it because of it.
"Padawan," he said in a warning tone.
Lips quirking up into a grin, the kid slid down until he was fully laying under his covers, head resting on his fluffed up pillow. "Fine."
Mace huffed, pulling the children book from the desk and opening to the first page. "I'll read to you till you fall asleep."
Obi-Wan snorted, eyebrows quirking up in utter disbelief. "With all due respect Master," he said, eyes glinting with laughter and brilliant stars. "I'm not a child."
"Neither am I," Mace fired back, single eyebrow lifting in return. "What's your point?"
"You really want to read that book?"
Mace shrugged. "It's been a while. Humour me why don't you."
Pulling his cover up to his chin, Obi-Wan's mirth brushed against Mace's force presence; still not having a training bond but feeling closer to each other than they'd ever been efore. "Whatever you say, Master."
Force flicking the kid's braid into his eyes, Mace ignored his indignant huffs as he began to read the silly little book out loud.
Remembering a small three year old child sitting at his feet while he read a similar book to him in the crèche. Brilliant, bright blue-green eyes staring up at him in wonderment and now---
Briefly meeting the same bright blue-green eyes gazing up at him from the hospital bed. Hurt, in pain but no less alive, Mace allowed himself to smile.
"The little Jedi wanted to help people," he started.....
The End
Second chapter finally up!!!! Hope you all like it!
Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
46 notes · View notes
suituuup · 4 years
Text
unspoken 4/4
On the second day of her fourth and last year at Barden, Chloe meets an oddly quiet girl and finds herself drawn to her despite her silence. Asperger’s Beca.
rating: T
word count: 3,600
ao3 link
*
Cries crackle through the babyphone, cutting through Beca’s dream. Her eyes blink open and she feels her wife shift beside her, a soft sigh carrying above the cries. 
“I’ll get her,” Beca murmurs, dropping a kiss to Chloe’s shoulder before slipping out of bed. 
“Thanks, babe,” Chloe calls after her as Beca sleep-laden limbs drag her across the hall. 
Despite the ungodly hour and how exhausted Beca feels, a soft smile pulls at her lips as she bends over the railing and gently plucks her daughter from the crib. 
“It’s okay Peanut,” she whispers, brushing a kiss behind her ear. She carries her to the bedroom just as Chloe sits up, transferring her into Chloe’s arms. Spencer latches onto Chloe’s boob right away, her cries quieting down to soft, content coos. 
The baby wraps her tiny hand around Beca’s pointer finger as she feeds, and Beca isn’t sure how much more cuteness her heart can take before it bursts. 
It had never crossed Beca’s mind before she and Chloe’s relationship got serious that she would ever become a mom. Beca had lived in her own bubble until then, spending most of her life alone. Not being able to really speak from age 5 to 18 prevented her from bonding with anyone, and she’d never imagined she would fall in love, let alone make someone fall in love with her.
But Chloe… she wasn’t just someone. She managed to see past Beca’s social challenges and accepted Beca’s unconventional comfort zone instead of coaxing her out of it like people had tried to in the past, starting with her dad, who never attempted to understand her. 
Beca trusts her wife with everything she has, so when Chloe told her she was convinced Beca would be an amazing mom despite her autism, Beca believed her. 
Over the course of Chloe’s pregnancy, Beca became hyper-focused on everything she could learn about babies and motherhood. Some things could naturally only be learned through practice, but knowledge has always been her way to keep her fears to a minimum. 
And when Spencer came into the world, Beca learned another way to love that is beyond what she’d ever felt before. For someone who had spent most of her life being told she didn’t feel like others typically do, Beca was terrified she wouldn’t be able to love her own child the way she was supposed to. 
But as soon as she held her daughter in her arms that day, it was instant and overwhelming, and to this day the best thing Beca’s ever experienced. 
/
As they’re taking interview after interview to find a nanny for Spencer before Chloe’s maternity leave is over, Beca brings up her desire to start working from home, and take care of Spencer while Chloe’s at work. 
Chloe’s favorite part of the day is whenever she gets to come home to her family. Beca is usually cooking dinner while Spencer does what fifteen-month-olds usually get up to, like playing with her cubes, crawling at full speed to stuff she’s not supposed to get into (ie: Chloe’s make-up bag) and making cooking anything a challenging affair, or chatting to herself. 
Tonight, Fleetwood Mac’s Everywhere is playing throughout the house from their expensive wireless speaker (Beca doesn’t kid about music-related stuff so the sound is incredible) and Chloe toes off her shoes before padding to the kitchen. She stops around the corner, a wide grin breaking across her face when she sees Spencer dancing in the middle of the room in nothing but her diaper, while her wife sings along to the lyrics with a spatula as her pretend-microphone. 
Chloe’s caught filming half a minute later, flush rushing to meet Beca’s cheeks when she sees they have an audience. Chloe laughs and pockets her phone (that video is definitely going up on social media later) just as Spencer whirls around when she realizes her mama’s attention shifted to something else. 
“Mamamamama,” Spencer babbles, toddling over and extending her arms up towards Chloe. They’re both mama for now, and are not pushing Spencer to call one of them mommy, figuring she’ll decide on her own later on. 
“Hello my sweet girl,” Chloe gushes, blowing a raspberry into Spencer’s neck and drawing a giggle from her daughter. “I’ve missed you.” 
“Mama dance,” Spencer requests, and Chloe can’t say no to those sparkling blue eyes. Not that she’ll ever say no to dancing, anyway. 
She takes Spencer’s left hand and starts to sway to the music, her daughter’s delighted laughter filling the kitchen. Chloe stops once she’s standing near her wife, leaning over to press a kiss to her lips. “Hello.” 
“Hey you,” Beca greets with a grin. “Good day?” 
“Mhm. Glad to be home.” 
As Chloe suspected, Beca is an amazing mom, if not a little bit overbearing sometimes. She shields Spencer a bit too much, while Chloe is the type of parent who lets her kid fall down or take a tumble whilst discovering new things. 
So when Spencer trips at the park under Beca’s supervision a few months later, resulting in a trip to the ER, Beca is a mess. Upon getting to the hospital with Aubrey, Chloe is told they had to restrain and tranquilize her wife as she had started hitting herself and spiraling. 
“Restrained?” Chloe echoes in shock.
“The psychiatrist on call has been paged, ma’am.” 
Anger bubbles up Chloe’s frame. “She doesn’t need a freakin’ psychiatrist, she has autism!” She pinches the bridge of her nose, blowing out a breath. “Can you just… take me to her?”
While Aubrey stays with Spencer, Chloe is taken to the room her wife’s kept in. She strides over to the bed, laying a hand over Beca’s. “Oh my god, baby…” 
It hasn’t happened often in the decade Chloe’s known Beca, but she knows from Beca’s blank look that she has shut down. 
“Can you please untie her?” She asks the nurse, tears rising to her eyes. “It’s only making it worse. I promise she won’t hit herself while I’m here.” 
“Ma’am…” 
“I’m--I’m not a f-freak,” Beca’s voice trembles, barely audible. 
The words break Chloe’s heart into a hundred little pieces. She hastily sits down on the edge of the bed before her legs give out on her, sliding her hand into Beca’s. “Of course not, my love. Nobody thinks that, I promise.” 
“Chlo,” she croaks out, panicky eyes fleeting from Chloe to her hands. “I want out.” 
Ignoring the nurse’s protests about calling security, Chloe quickly unfastens the soft restraints and climbs onto the bed, pulling Beca into her arms and brushing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re okay, baby. I’m not going anywhere.” 
It’s a long while before Beca is able to talk. “Is Spence okay?” 
“She’s fine, Aubrey’s with her.” 
“I-I looked away for a s-second.”
“I know, babe. You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?” 
“O-okay. Can we go home?” She croaks out. “I just wanna go h-home.” 
“Yeah, we can go home.” 
Spencer conks out on the ride home. After putting her to bed for a pre-dinner nap, Chloe heads to the master bedroom to find Beca lying on her side with her back to the door. She crawls across the mattress and spoons her from behind, pressing a kiss to her covered shoulder. 
“She’ll fall and hurt herself many more times, without it necessarily being our fault, babe,” she murmurs. “It’s what kids do, and you have nothing to blame yourself for.” 
Beca sucks in a sharp breath. “When it happened-- I completely lost my footing. I panicked. Another mom had to call a cab for me b-because I-I couldn’t. Everyone was looking-- judging.” 
“I’m so sorry,” Chloe whispers, squeezing Beca’s waist. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re an amazing mom and you do so much for Spencer, even things that are extremely difficult for you, like going to sensory overload places like the playground. I’m in awe of you every single day, Bec.” 
The door creaks open before Beca can reply, and Chloe glances over her shoulder to see Spencer toddling in. 
“Hey munchkin,” she greets softly, rolling onto her back as Spencer climbs onto the bed with some difficulty. 
She’s sporting a large band aid across her forehead. “Mama okay?” 
Beca smiles. “Mama’s fine, Peanut. C’mere.” 
Spencer snuggles into her side, unknowingly stitching the cracks in Beca’s heart back up through her affection and unspoken love. 
/
“We’ll be back at three, alright?” Beca says, smoothing her palms over the lapels of Spencer’s coat. 
“Yes, Mama.” 
Beca musters a smile, even though her heart feels extremely heavy this morning. It’s Spencer’s first day of school, which means she won’t be spending the day at home, and Beca is already experiencing separation anxiety. 
She’s also scared Spencer might have a hard time at school, just like she did. The fear is most likely triggered by her own PTSD because there’s no reason her bright and socially able daughter doesn’t make friends. 
“I gotta go,” the four-year-old announces, glancing over her shoulder as her classmates enter the building. 
“I know, I know.” Beca swallows the lump in her throat and hugs Spencer tight. “I love you.” 
“Love you, too.” She hugs Chloe next, whispering the same before happily bouncing to the entrance. 
“She’ll be fine,” Chloe murmurs, her hand sliding inside Beca’s as soon as she pushes to her feet.
“I know. I just--” Beca sighs. “I’m gonna miss her.” 
“I know.” Chloe presses a kiss to her cheek. “Let’s go home. I’m sure I can come up with a few ways to distract you until three.” 
Beca flushes hard at the innuendo, breaking eye-contact while Chloe simply cackles. 
/
“What do you say, Spence?” 
Sheepish blue eyes flick up to meet Chloe’s, before they move back to Andrew. “Thank you!” She pads to her pile of gifts and sets the newest wrapped present on the table, standing on the tip of her toes to reach. 
“Wow, you and Beca sure know how to throw an awesome party,” Andrew’s mom comments with an impressed sort of nod as Spencer and her son hurry to meet the other kids inside the blow-up T-Rex taking a third of their backyard. 
Spencer has been obsessed with dinosaurs for the past year, so it was only natural she’d want that theme for her birthday party. It became Beca’s near sole-focus for the last four months, as she wanted to make sure everything was perfect. To her credit, it really was. 
“Yeah, my wife really outdid herself,” Chloe says with a smile, her eyes doing a quick sweep of the small crowd to track down Beca even though she knows Beca is probably in the backstage section of the event. “I’m going to see if she needs a hand. Help yourself to drinks and food, Caroline.” 
Chloe heads back inside the house and rounds the corner to the kitchen to find Beca staring at the cake with a frown on her face. 
“Everything okay, babe?” 
“I forgot to buy candles,” Beca mutters. 
“Oh, well I think we have some over here,” Chloe says, stepping further inside the kitchen and standing on the tip of her toes to reach the top cupboard. “Ah-ha, here you go.” 
Beca wrinkles her nose as she takes them, then shakes her head faintly, and it’s like Chloe can read her thoughts. There’s something that doesn’t sit right with those specific ones, but Beca will use them anyway because she feels ridiculous about being so picky. 
After eleven years together, Chloe knows what can trigger Beca’s Aspie side, and one look at the cake tells her what’s wrong. 
“Aubrey isn’t here yet, I’ll tell her to stop on the way to buy green candles, ‘K?” 
Green so they can match the dinosaur on the cake and not pink like the only ones they have. 
“N-no, it’s not--it’s not--” Beca lets out a frustrated sigh, her nails digging into her palms. It seems to take a lot of internal debating until she can finally utter out, “It’s not a big deal.” 
“Neither is Aubrey stopping on the way to buy candles, I promise,” Chloe assures Beca, stepping closer to rest a hand on her lower back. Chloe’s touch has always been one of the things that ground Beca, and her shoulders slump as she puffs out a breath. 
“Okay. Thank you.” 
Chloe smiles. “Spence is having so much fun. You really threw an amazing party.” She leans in to kiss Beca’s cheek, rubbing her back. “Wanna join us outside?” 
She feels Beca’s muscles tense under her palm as Beca purses her lips, eyes flicking towards the window. No matter how much social progress she’s made since Chloe walked into her life, she’s still shy around near-strangers and sensory sensitive. A bunch of loud and hyperactive children can be a meltdown trigger. “Um, maybe in a little bit.” 
“Okay. No pressure.” 
Beca only comes outside when it’s time for the cake, retreating inside after Spencer blows her candles. Chloe didn’t think until now that Spencer really notices Beca doesn’t act like her friends’ parents, but she’s proven wrong later that day as she helps her daughter carry her presents to her bedroom. 
“Mommy, why is Mama different?” 
Chloe pauses, setting the pile of boxes on the floor and joining Spencer at the foot of the bed. 
“Mama has something called autism, baby. It means that her brain interprets things differently than you and it can make it hard for her to talk, listen, understand, play, and learn. That’s why she’s sometimes in her own world, or why she doesn’t like to interact with people.”
“Oh,” Spencer lets out, clearly mulling it over. She eventually looks to Chloe and asks, “Is it dangerous? Like cancer?” 
“No, absolutely not. Mama is very healthy.”
Spencer’s shoulders slump, and she musters a smile, nodding. “Okay.”
Smiling as well, Chloe pushes Spencer’s hair back from her forehead. “She loves you so much, sweetheart.” 
“I know. I don’t care that she’s different, I was just wondering why.” 
After tucking her daughter in, Chloe pads downstairs and into the living-room, where Beca is reading on the couch. She hums when Chloe curls up into her side, freeing her arm to wrap it around Chloe’s back. “All good?” 
“Mhm, yeah. She had fun today. You threw an amazing party.” Chloe lifts her head from Beca’s shoulder. “You okay?” 
Beca nods. “Sorry I didn’t socialize much, I-- It was a lot.” 
“That’s okay. There’s nothing to apologize for.” She nuzzles Beca’s cheek. “You know I don’t mind entertaining people.” 
Beca chuckles. “Oh, I know. Sometimes I wonder how someone as talkative as you fell for a girl who could barely put a sentence together.” 
“Opposites attract, I guess?” 
Beca simply hums, feathering the tips of her fingers up and down Chloe’s arm. Chloe decides to keep Spencer’s question for herself, knowing Beca might feel self-conscious about their daughter noticing her unusual personality. 
Beca is the one to break the silence. “Do you ever think about having another kid?” 
Her question makes Chloe’s thud harder, and she lifts her head from Beca’s shoulder to look at her. “Do you?” 
Beca snickers. “I asked first.” 
“Yeah, I do,” Chloe replies with a smile. “I’ve actually been experiencing quite the baby fever ever since Samuel was born.” Her godson, Aubrey’s four months old baby boy. “We still have three vials from Spencer’s sperm donor.” 
Beca looks at her with sparkling eyes. “Are you okay with carrying again?” 
“I am, but are you sure you don’t want to?” She knows Beca is sceptical, concerned about giving their baby autism even though Chloe has assured her many times it wouldn’t be a problem if that were the case. 
“Yes. I’ve given it some thought and-- I just don’t see myself being pregnant.” 
“Okay,” Chloe agrees quietly, reaching up to cradle Beca’s cheek. She kisses her softly, grinning. “I’m really excited.” 
“Me, too.” 
Chloe’s been acting weird ever since they left Beca’s work Christmas party. 
She doesn’t say anything on the cab ride back, and heads directly to their bedroom when they reach home. Beca pays the sitter and goes to check on Spencer to make sure she’s still asleep. 
“Chlo?” She calls out softly as she lingers in the bedroom doorway, watching for a moment as Chloe takes off her earrings and her watch. Her confusion only enhances when Chloe doesn’t answer, triggering a wave of anxiety. She’s never been good at picking up on other people’s emotions, but after living over a decade with Chloe, she can tell when something is off. “What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing,” Chloe mutters. She reaches behind her to undo her zipper, but can’t quite reach. “Can you give me a hand?” 
Beca crosses the room to step behind her, dragging the zipper down. She searches Chloe’s eyes in the mirror, bracing her hands over Chloe’s upper arms. “Talk to me? Please?” 
“She likes you,” Chloe eventually provides, turning around and sitting on the edge of her vanity. “It’s pretty obvious to anyone watching.” 
“W-who does?” 
“Amanda,” Chloe says. Beca’s new assistant at the label. “She was flirting with you all night.” 
“I…” Beca’s eyebrows knit together as she thinks back to the party. “Are you sure?” 
“Pretty sure, yeah.” She sighs, her eyes softening as she slides her hands into Beca’s. “And I don’t want to be jealous, because I know you’re just oblivious when it comes to that sort of stuff, but it’s not… exactly easy to watch someone so attractive flirt so openly with your wife.” 
Guilt coils in Beca’s belly. “I’m sorry, I-I had no idea.” 
“I know that, and I don’t want you to beat yourself up for it, alright? I’m sorry I gave you the cold shoulder instead of telling you right away. I think my pregnancy hormones are just making me more possessive than usual.” She scrunches up her nose. “I was ready to pounce on the woman.” 
Beca giggles at the imagery, leaning forward and burying her face into Chloe’s neck. Her arms wrap loosely around her wife’s waist as she remains close for a few beats, basking in her proximity. 
“I’ll talk to her,” she murmurs. “Let her know I’m definitely not interested.” 
“Are you sure you’re comfortable to do that?” 
Beca lifts her head, grimacing. “Can’t I write her a card?” 
Chloe’s laughter chases away that guilt and Beca finally relaxes. “Sure.” 
Beca’s hand curves around the gentle swell of Chloe’s belly. “You said Amanda was attractive but I frankly have no clue what she was even wearing because I was too obsessed with how beautiful you looked tonight. I honestly don’t even remember what she and I talked about.” She kisses Chloe gently, resting her forehead against hers. “I love you. Every time I think about you throughout the day, which happens a lot by the way, I feel like I need to pinch myself. Sometimes I think about seventeen-year-old me watching people date in high-school and feeling sad that she’d never get to know that. I wish I could go back to tell her that it’s all going to be okay, that somewhere down the line, she’ll meet this incredible human being who won’t make fun of her for not being able to talk, someone who will be amazingly patient and understanding with her aspie side and who will love her with her whole heart.” 
Beca sometimes has trouble finding the right words, but not tonight. They just pour out of her heart, like they often do when it comes to Chloe. 
“Bec,” Chloe croaks out, reaching up to cradle her jaw. Her eyes are misty with unshed tears and she puffs out a breath. “You suck for making me cry.” 
Beca laughs, pressing a few kisses to Chloe’s exposed collarbone as she hugs her. “Let’s go to bed, wife.” 
/
Chloe is completely and utterly exhausted, but the happiness radiating through her whole body makes it totally worth it. 
She glances down to Elliot, rubbing her palm over his stomach. “Are you ready to meet your big sister?” 
The door opens a couple minutes later, Beca walking in with Spencer. The six-year-old gasps softly, her eyes alight with wonder as Beca picks her up so she can take her first look at her baby brother. 
“He’s got the same hair as me,” she observes with a smile. Chocolate hair, like Beca. Spencer had Chloe’s eyes, and Chloe was looking forward to finding out which shade their little boy would end up sporting. “He’s so little, Mommy.” 
“He is,” Chloe murmurs. “Do you wanna hold him?” Spencer’s head bobs up and down in an excited nod. “Alright, go sit in the chair over there.” 
Beca sets her down and grabs the nursing pillow off the foot of Chloe’s bed, setting it on Spencer’s lap once she’s all settled. She carefully plucks the newborn from Chloe’s arms and sets him down on the pillow, crouching in front of the chair as she keeps her hand under his head to support it. “What do you think, Spence?” 
“He’s so cute,” Spencer gushes, her reaction bringing fresh tears to Chloe’s eyes. She grabs her phone off the table and snaps a few pictures of her family, smiling widely. “When’s he coming home?” 
“In a couple days,” Beca says. “We might need your help to read him stories or sing him to sleep.” 
Spencer nods dutifully. “K.” 
Compared to Spencer, Elliot is a heavy sleeper so far, which is pretty great because Chloe feels like she could sleep for days. She wakes up bleary eyed one afternoon after a nap, her son or wife nowhere in sight. 
Following the soft voices and coos carrying from the living room, Chloe ventures down the hall, stopping in the doorway as a soft smile slips on her lips. 
Elliot is chilling on his playmat while Beca and Spencer color on the floor next to him, oblivious to Chloe’s presence. 
Chloe observes them for a moment, her heart fit to burst as she realizes how perfect her little family is, and how far Beca has come. 
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the-badger-mole · 4 years
Text
Traditional Part 3
   Zuko woke first the next morning. He stirred the banked fire and set about making breakfast. As he was setting on a pot for tea, he heard someone else emerge from the tent. A moment later, Chief Hakoda settled beside him and yawned. 
“You’re up pretty early,” Hakoda observed. “We have another hour before we needed to get up.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you, sir,” Zuko apologized. Hakoda waved him off. 
“Not your fault,” he said. “I’m a light sleeper is all. Kya used to complain that she had to tie herself down when she slept so she wouldn’t accidentally wake me. She was a really heavy sleeper. I once got out of bed, tripped into a pile of pots and ripped one of the rushes off the wall, and she barely moved.” Hakoda let out a chuckle, but Zuko could see a flash of sadness in his eyes. “The kids take after with that, you know.”
Zuko did know. After he had joined the Gaang, Zuko began observing how the group operated with a growing sense of horror and confusion. How had they managed to evade capture for so long? And how would Zuko keep them safe? He was grateful for Toph’s presence. Her sensitivity to vibrations in the earth made it unnecessary for him to try to implement night watches. Still, Zuko was glad for the guards who stood by Katara’s bedroom door at the palace. If someone attacked her while she was sleeping, she’d never know about it. In the Fire Nation, it was traditional for the Fire Lady to sleep in her own room. Zuko wasn’t sure if all royal couples followed that archaic rule, but once they were married, Zuko was determined never to let Katara sleep on her own if he had a choice. She could sleep as heavily as she pleased as long as he was around to protect her.
“I’m a pretty light sleeper, too,” he told Hakoda. A shadow of a smile passed over the older man’s face. Silence fell over the pair, and Zuko would have liked to imagine it was the sort of comfortable, companionable silence he’d enjoyed with Iroh, but the truth was his mind was racing for something, anything to say to Hakoda that would raise his esteem in his future father-in-law’s eyes. 
“I heard a bit of your conversation with Sokka last night,” Hakoda confessed, startling Zuko from his thoughts. 
“Y-you did?” Zuko went over the conversation in his head. He hadn’t noticed Hakoda or Bato paying any special attention to them. He didn’t think he had said anything that could be interpreted as an insult. He glanced at Hakoda nervously and found the man smiling slightly, but warmly. 
“I know I shouldn’t eavesdrop,” he said. “But honestly, I didn’t have much of a choice. The wind was blowing in my direction.”
“It’s...fine,” Zuko shrugged, unsure of what else to say. If nothing else, at least Hakoda had heard that he loved Katara and wouldn’t force her into marrying him if she didn’t want. He cleared his throat nervously and waited for Hakoda to say something. 
“You know, I wasn’t as surprised as I should have been when you and Katara started dating,” Hakoda tilted his head back and looked up at the stars in the still dark sky. “When I found out, I suppose I should have felt something like anger or fear. And I did, but mostly I felt strangely like I was expecting it.” Hakoda shrugged with a thoughtful hum. “Maybe in a way I was.” 
“You don’t want her to marry me?” Zuko asked. Hakoda was confusing him. 
“It’s not that,” Hakoda said. “I have a lot of the same concerns as Sokka. You have proven yourself to be a fine young man. I think under different circumstances, you would be just the sort of man I always hoped Katara would find. Supportive, but not overbearing. Kind and compassionate. You’re a bit awkward and withdrawn,but no one’s perfect.” Zuko felt his face heat up and he ducked his head. 
“Um...”
“I didn’t mean to insult you,” Hakoda assured him gently. “I only meant that Katara has always been outgoing and forthright. And a bit awkward in her own way.” Hakoda smiled fondly. “I do understand why she chose you. You two suit each other. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t surprised. I suppose all of this has been a very long time coming.” 
The pair lapsed into silence once again. The water Zuko had put on the fire had started to boil. He took the pot from the flame and added the dark, pungent tea leaves  to steep. 
“I think I knew where things were heading at your coronation,” Hakoda continued. Zuko looked up in surprise at that.
“What do you mean?” he asked. Hakoda gestured at him vaguely. 
“I mean I think I knew you two would end up here eventually,” he said. “The day of your coronation, during the celebration banquet afterwards. You two kept finding reasons to be near each other. She wanted to make sure you weren’t in pain, or you wanted to introduce her to some advisor or general. She had accidentally gotten two cups of punch and thought you’d like the other. You wanted her to try some Fire Nation delicacy.” Hakoda shot Zuko an amused look. “I didn’t admit it to myself just then, but it was a bigger shock for me that Katara ended up with Aang and you ended up with...er...the young woman with the knives?”
“Mai,” Zuko supplied.  Hakoda nodded his head, accepting the answer. 
“Well, I was surprised at the way things shook out. Looking back, I think I would have been more unhappy if Katara had married Aang. I’m worried for her now, but she was never truly happy with him. You make her happy.” Hakoda said the words as if it were the first time he’d understood them. He smiled at Zuko again, warm and full. “I know you’ll look out for her, just like I know she’ll look out for you. Still, I worry about this arrangement.”
“Sir, I would die for your daughter,” Zuko said fervently. Hakoda chuckled and motioned for Zuko to settle down.
“Easy on the sir stuff,” he said. “Hakoda is fine. I know you would die for Katara. You proved that already. But I hope that you remember to live for her, too.”
“...sir?” Zuko blinked in surprise. Hakoda sighed and sat a bit straighter.
“Zuko, I know you are the Fire Lord, and that comes with a lot of responsibility. Katara understands that probably better than almost any woman you could have married. She grew up with me for a father, after all. But love is...love is like a flower. If you don't nurture it, it'll die. You make my daughter happy, and, under the circumstances, I couldn't ask for more.”
“I...” Zuko swallowed hard, feeling overwhelmed, confused, and touched at the same time. He was at a loss for words. Hakoda’s smile turned a bit melancholy. 
“Katara is a leader in her own right,” he said. “She puts everyone before herself. She did it for us. She did it for Aang. And, I suspect she does it for you and your people.” Zuko remembered walking into her office late at night to find her poring over proposals for justice reforms and public social programs. There were times she went whole days without sleep. Hakoda was right. Katara did put everyone else first. 
“One leader to another,” Hakoda interrupted Zuko’s thoughts. “One husband to another, I’d like to give you a piece of advice.”
“Please.”
“Even though you have a duty to your country, you will also have a duty to your wife and family. Sometimes those duties come in conflict with each other. When it is your choice- and it will be your choice more often than you think- you should put them first.” Zuko swallowed hard suddenly imagining the family he and Katara would make someday. Someday soon. 
“I will,” he swore. Hakoda clasped his shoulder.
“Good man.” He nodded towards the steaming teapot sitting by the fire. “Now, I think we could both use a bit of a warm up.” Zuko poured them both a cup of the strong brew. Hakoda took a sip and sputtered. 
“That is...bracing!” he declared, coughing a bit. A warm blush spread over Zuko’s face as he murmured an apology. No matter how many times his uncle tried to teach him, he could never get the knack of brewing tea. 
.*.*.*.*.*.
By Bato’s reckoning, they were about a day behind whatever had left the drag marks that Zuko had found. Once everyone was up and dressed, they broke down camp and prepared to continue the hunt. Sokka took folded the blankets and furs, and then he and Zuko broke down the tent while Hakoda and Bato plotted their course for the day. The older man made their way back as they were securing the tent in a pack. 
“You two work quick,” Bato said. “I’ll give you that. Well, that’s camp maintenance. I guess this means you both get a point.” Sokka pumped a fist in the air, until Bato continued, “That still puts Zuko in the lead.” 
“Aw, come on!” Sokka protested. “I did way more than he did! I sharpened all of our weapons.” 
“I made the fire,” Zuko pointed out, more invested in messing with his friend than in winning the point.
“I broke down the tent.”
“I helped,” Zuko said. “I also made breakfast.”
“You should lose points for that tea!” Sokka refused to be outdone. “You could use that to peel paint!” Hakoda and Bato laughed at the pair. The scoring was left  as was, to Sokka’s chagrin. But it didn’t matter. Soon they found fresher tracks and Sokka identified the animal they were after, earning him another point and tying him with Zuko.
Part 1, Part 2,   Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
102 notes · View notes
dyaz-stories · 4 years
Text
Out of The Woods — One: Acceptance
It’s here!! You guys might remember this post of mine, and that is what this story is based on! I had planned to have everything done by Inukag week and... yeah that didn’t happen, but this is chapter one, the next ones will be based on prompts, though I definitely won’t have them all out this week. Let me know if you want to be tagged for this specifically (tagging everyone just for the first one) and I hope you’ll enjoy this first one!
Thank you so so much to @sweetchcolate for being my beta for this chapter, you helped improving the final result so much and you’re amazing ❤️
Tagging: @shinidamachu @sailorbabydoll92 @sweetchcolate @clearwillow @zelink-inukag @cstorm86 @digital-art-monster @danycontreras90 @redflamesofpassion @lost-amidst-the-stars @eternalnight8806-3 @desiree239 @keichanz @ashleys-canvas @mustardyellowsunshine​ @meggz0rz @contacting-u @ramen---boi @superpixie42 @kazeinori @disgruntledbeast
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The full moon shone high in the night sky, its soft light falling on empty streets and tightly shut windows. The villagers laid restless in their beds, waiting for the morning to come, pretending nothing would be happening tonight, pretending that they didn’t know about the white form dashing through the trees in the forest, pretending they hadn’t left him an offering that was far more than they had ever expected to pay. Pretending that the moonlight was enough to repel the darkness.
In the forest, things looked very different. Even the midday sun hardly pierced the thick foliage, and the moonlight barely reached the ground. Unlike the village, the forest was full of life and movement, even at night. Small demons, animals, owls and bats… It was like they knew the humans wouldn’t venture in here tonight, and they intended to make the most of it.
Sometimes, however, the noise was interrupted for just a moment. Silence fell brutally on the trees, as a flash of white appeared, only to vanish just as quickly, letting the animals resume to their lives as though nothing had happened. The silhouette stopped in front of a clearing, sniffing the air, as it checked its surrounding. Once it was satisfied, golden eyes focused on a bag laying on the ground. Good. Relief overtook it for just a second, before resolve flashed in its expression, and it jumped in.
The action was only a matter of seconds. The form jumped in, easily threw the bag over its shoulder, paused, only long enough for an exterior observer to discern red clothing underneath long white hair, before he ran away, just as fast. A blink, and you could have missed it.
It didn’t stop until it had reached a small river. There, it took north, going up stream, the sound of bare feet on rocks barely audible over the brook’s whisper. Finally, the shape slowed down as the banks of the river started to rise to form a small ravine. After one last glance over its shoulder to make sure it wasn’t being followed, the white shape disappeared behind the rocks.
As it walked to a small wooden hut by the lake that had formed there, the moonlight revealed a definitely humanoid shape, an impression that was only disrupted by the two triangular ears on top of its skull. He unceremoniously dropped the bag onto the grass, only to freeze when a yelp came from the bag.
Slowly, he knelt down next to it. The moonlight caught onto claws, and they briefly shone in the dark as he prepared to open it.
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Kagome didn’t regain consciousness until she was moving. She remembered the men, showing up in her house, dragging her out as she asked, begged, for an explanation. She remembered Mo, the leader of the village, telling her that he was sorry, that this was for the best, for everyone. She remembered the pain exploding in her temple. She remembered hitting the ground. And nothing after that.
She woke up, disoriented, unable to see, terror coursing through her veins, aware that someone was moving with her at full speed. Her stomach immediately protested against the up and down movement, and made it all the more difficult for her to fight her first instinct: to scream. She dug her teeth into her lower lip in order to keep from making a noise. Trying to calm herself down, she took a few quick breaths. That, however, only fueled her panic as she realized with horror how hard breathing through the cloth was, but she somehow managed not to have a complete meltdown. She could breathe, after all. It was just difficult. She focused on that for a moment, and used that to consider her situation.
It wasn’t easy to form coherent thoughts, not with the fear that was infecting her system, and certainly not with the fact that she could feel the youki of the person carrying her. Her reiki was always under control, and she had never had any problem with it, but as it was, it took everything she had not to let it spike. If she did, it could have disastrous consequences.
She swallowed, and forced herself to focus. What did she know? The men of the village had knocked her out, but clearly, she wasn’t with them anymore. She closed her eyes, both to calm down her breathing and to try to remember Mo’s words.
“I’m really sorry, Kagome,” he’d sighed, shaking his head dejectedly. “If there was any other way, I would choose it, but you’re the village’s priestess, and I know you understand why you must offer yourself in this situation.”
“What are you talking about?” she’d asked, tensed, not aware of the gravity of the moment yet.
Her eyes shot open as his words finally came back to her.
“I’m sorry,” he’d repeated. “I believe what we need right now is a virgin sacrifice.”
‘The situation’ had to be a reference to whatever lived in the forest. From what she’d been told when she had joined the village as a priestess, only a couple of weeks ago, in replacement for a distant cousin of hers who had been murdered, everyone believed it was a god that they had angered. They made regular offerings to it, once a month, on the full moon. And tonight was…
Gods. She was tonight’s offering.
She had just realized it when she felt herself falling, and let out a cry of protest when she hit the ground. She closed her mouth shut, but the damage was done already.
The silence that followed was excruciating. She felt the bag being lifted as though she weighed nothing, and she knew that it wouldn’t be long until it was open. Concentrating her reiki in her hands, Kagome prepared for a fight. She would not go down easily. She knew herself, knew her power, and she didn’t doubt that she would be able to take out a demon, even without her bow, if she had the advantage of surprise.
But, as she prepared to deal it a death blow, knowing that she wouldn’t have another chance, she hesitated.
Maybe she was being unfair. Maybe it was her fear speaking, and not her reason. Her work was not to inflict death. It had never been, and in fact, she had always held strong beliefs against that practice. Kagome knew that gods and demons could often be reasoned with, and that they would rarely go out of their way to attack humans unless provoked.
It was stupid, not to kill the demon instantly. An act of folly. It was taking a chance on something nonsensical.
Kagome took it anyway.
When the bag was finally pulled down, she held back her power, only sending a flash strong enough to make the demon jump back with a surprised growl. Sharp pain to her cheek told her she’d been hit, but she didn’t care as she stared at the supposed god that terrorized the village, and all she found was…
A young man. No older than herself, probably under twenty. Sure, his hair was white, his eyes seemed like liquid gold, and the dog-ears on his head weren’t human, but other than that— He was practically a boy. Skinny, almost to the point of being called scrawny, and his entire body tense as a bow string.
Kagome slowly lowered her hands, though she didn’t disperse her reiki just yet. The man kept growling as he glared at her, claws in evidence. His eyes moved over her clothes, a priestess’ garment, and the growl only became louder.
“What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s my food?”
Fear was soon replaced by anger, and Kagome shot him a death glare that would have made most men cower. He didn’t react to it — she hadn’t expected him to. Clearly, he was not ‘most men’.
“Oh I’m sorry, am I not a sacrifice satisfying enough?”
“Sacrifice?” he repeated with a frown. “The hell sort of sacrifice are you? Am I supposed to— eat you?”
People didn’t eat other people, did they? He couldn’t say he was tempted, even if she smelled a lot like fresh meat.
“No, I’m—” Kagome rolled her eyes. She had not expected to have to explain that part of the situation, and now it was weirdly uncomfortable. “They said they needed to make a— a virgin sacrifice. To appease you.”
A puzzled look appeared on the man’s face, and for a second, Kagome really feared that she would have to explain to him what a virgin sacrifice was. But then, his eyes widened in understanding, and, much to her surprise, his cheeks heated up. He glanced away from her, blushing and clearly embarrassed, which only made her feel more awkward.
“K-keh! So there’ll be no food this month?”
The question took Kagome off guard, yet again, and she was starting to realize that she really did not like that sensation. Why was she always one step behind? Something was wrong here.
“I… suppose not.”
For a few moments, there was only silence. He was crouching and glaring at her and she was trying her best to assess the situation, now that her fear was mostly gone, but she still was far from having enough information. First things first, then. Clearing her throat, she asked him about the thing that had been on her mind ever since she had felt his aura.
“You’re… not a god, are you?”
His lips curled to reveal his fangs, and his growl, which had stopped when she’d mentioned being a virgin sacrifice, picked up again.
“Are you making fun of me?”
His voice was defiant, and Kagome didn’t doubt that he would have attacked her if he hadn’t feared her powers. She swallowed as she looked him over once more. His youki was extremely powerful, so she had assumed he was a demon from the beginning, but now that she was looking at him, there was only one explanation that made sense. She hadn’t even considered it before, but the ears spoke for themselves.
“You’re a half-demon,” she said slowly.
“Gotta problem with that?” he snapped.
“Everyone believes you cursed the village,” she said, shaking her head, just trying to understand. She didn’t know how such a mistake had been possible. She’d only ever met Kikyo a few times, but based on what she’d heard about her power, there was no way she wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. Maybe, maybe, she would have believed him to be a full demon, but she doubted even that.
“Sounds just like those assholes to blame their problems on me,” he mumbled bitterly. “Been blaming me for their priestess’s death, too.”
That caught her attention again.
“You’re Inuyasha?” she asked.
He almost jumped when she said his name, before focusing back on her. His eyes were shining dangerously, and Kagome resisted the urge to lift her hands defensively in front of herself. She didn’t want to risk escalating the situation.
“How would ya know that?”
“I was told that, on her deathbed, Kikyo said you were responsible for her final injuries.”
She watched his face crumble. The shock in his eyes, the way his lips fell. He whirled around, turning his back on her, but his reaction told her everything she needed to know. Having seen that— she couldn’t believe he had anything to do with her cousin’s death.
“She said that, huh?” he asked, voice sounding a little too loud and too clear. “Sounds just like that bitch. Keeping me her dirty little secret and stabbing me in the back last second. Nothing surprising about it.”
Kagome watched his back, silently. She didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know where she went from here.
“I’m Kagome, by the way,” she said, awkwardly.
That snapped him out of whatever emotion he was feeling, and he turned around.
“I didn’t ask,” he growled. “So ya said ya were— a sacrifice? Were ya okay with that?”
Her lower lip started to tremble, as it finally dawned on her what the men from the village had been willing to let happen to her. Whether they expected she’d be killed or— It would all have been horrible for her. The worst part was that she was pretty sure she could have been guilted into accepting it.
“Well, that’s humans for ya,” the half-demon said with a shrug, able to tell what the answer was from her silence.
Kagome forced herself to breathe in, but it didn’t help. She had been called to the village. They had asked for her presence, and she hadn’t thought much about it. She travelled a lot, usually going where she was needed. When they had called for her, she had assumed they wanted someone powerful, given what was living in the forest. She hadn’t doubted their intentions at all. Did they know then? Had they planned this all along? Did they think of it whenever they saw her walking through the village in her robes?
Inuyasha cleared his throat, right before she lost herself completely in questions she didn’t have any answers to, and she looked at him, blinking the tears away.
“What are ya gonna do now? Going back? Are ya gonna tell them that I ain’t a god and I haven’t cursed their village?”
He was trying his best to sound detached but, judging by his previous reaction, he did count on the offerings of food, which meant he did care about what her answer would be. She wanted to give him something, she did, but she didn’t know what to tell him. Even if he hadn’t killed Kikyo, he had injured numerous villagers who had ventured into the forest. She couldn’t find it in herself to feel bad for them right now, but he was still very much dangerous, even if he looked so young and normal. He could probably feel her reiki, and that might be why he hadn’t done anything to her yet. He might very well be waiting for her to lower her defenses to strike.
“I don’t know,” she admitted regardless, voice weak. “I can’t say I really want to go back there.”
The silence that followed was heavy and uncomfortable. Kagome wrapped her arms around her knees, pressing them against her chest, and finally let the reiki dissipate in the air. She would be able to summon more energy if needed, but it didn’t look like it. For now, at least.
“I guess ya can sleep here,” Inuyasha finally said, reluctantly. “’s not much, but it’s warmer than outside, and demons don’t come here.”
She could understand why. The air was infused with his youki, clearly marking the place as his territory. It made sense that other demons wouldn’t want to challenge him.
“…I think that would be for the best,” she said.
His reaction was less than enthusiastic. He sighed, obviously considering retracting his offer, then pointed at the hut with his chin.
“C’mon.”
Kagome pushed herself up, wincing at the sudden wave of pain that shot through her head, where she had been hit. If Inuyasha noticed it, he didn’t show it. In only a few large strides, he was in front of the hut, pushing the curtain that served as a door.
“You comin’ or what?”
Well, even if he didn’t kill her, he was pretty insufferable, Kagome decided as she followed him, walk a little wobbly.
The hut consisted of one room, with no furniture whatsoever. In a corner, there was some straw and what looked like a blanket, laying directly on the earth, and that was about it. It was not, by any means, comfortable, and Kagome found herself almost horrified at the thought that he lived here. These conditions were definitely not good.
“I told ya, it ain’t a palace or anything, but unless you wanna sleep outside, you should get your ass in here.”
Inuyasha’s annoyed voice — though Kagome was pretty sure she detected a hint of shame in there as well — finally got her to step in.
“You can sleep there,” he said, pointing at what was probably his bed.
“But what about you?” she questioned, concern filling her voice despite the fact that she wanted nothing more than to collapse on there to soothe her throbbing head.
In the darkness, with the only window in the hut being the sole source of light, she missed the suspicious glance he shot her. When he didn’t find anything in her behavior that should keep him on his guard, he merely shrugged.
“I’ll be good. I’m not like you humans, my body can handle a lot more.”
Kagome accepted his explanation, too tired to object that demons, while more resistant, still needed sleep.
“Well, if you’re fine with it…”
The only response she got was another shrug, so she slipped under the blanket and did her best to wrap herself in it. As expected, it wasn’t pleasant, but it was better than nothing. She watched as Inuyasha went to sit against the wall opposite her, putting as much distance between them as he could in this small space, and closed his eyes. She hesitated a second before rolling around, turning her back to him. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest decision, as she wouldn’t see him coming if he attacked her, but she knew she’d hate it if someone watched her as she slept.
Even with her exhaustion, sleep wouldn’t come to her, and the pain did not help. After a while, she rolled over again, attempting to find a better position to sleep. When she moved, she saw his eyes opening. It lasted less than a second, just long enough for her to see a golden flash, but it told her that he was keeping track of her actions.
It seemed that he was as weary of her as she was of him. The thought was almost reassuring. She wouldn’t attack him, unless he did first, and if he felt the same, well, they were both probably safe.
And with that thought, Kagome was finally able to find sleep.
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When she stepped out of the hut in the morning, Kagome at least felt a little better. Her head still hurt, and the cut on her cheek stung, but she assumed she would be okay. The first thing she did was to examine her surroundings, something she hadn’t been able to do when she’d arrived at night.
There was something surreal about being here, in the middle of a forest she’d been told was inhabited by dangerous monsters since she’d arrived, and to see that it was, actually, a really normal place. The sun was shining bright in the sky, the birds were chirping in the trees. Today was looking like a beautiful day.
Looking around, she realized the hut was by a lake, in an enclosed area surrounded by cliffs. There was a small waterfall just a little further, making the river the only easy way out, though she assumed Inuyasha had other ways. The scenery was idyllic, in stark contrast with everything she’d imagined about the forest. Sure, she could feel youki all around her, even with Inuyasha’s so present, and she couldn’t forget that this place clearly wasn’t inhabited by humans, but it was all so… peaceful.
She heard a noise above her, and was startled when Inuyasha simply jumped down from a cliff. He landed with a grunt, and she took her chance to examine him as he pushed himself back up as though he hadn’t fallen from at least ten meters.
She hadn’t noticed in the night that he was dressed entirely in red, and that was not the only way he looked very different in the daylight. He went from a mythical being to— a person, simply put. She noted his sharp jaw, the hard glint in his eyes, the frown that she doubted ever left his face. When his eyes turned towards her, she glanced away quickly, then berated herself for her reaction. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Hey!” Inuyasha yelled at her, “I got some food for ya!”
Joining her, he hastily handed her some fruits.
“It ain’t much, but ’s all the forest gives at this time of the year,” he explained.
“It’s fine,” Kagome replied, forcing herself to smile. “Thank you for that.”
A look of suspicion passed on his face, and he had to bite back a comment. He didn’t like her behavior, not one bit. People were never nice to him. He definitely expected her to try some shady shit. Maybe she wanted something from him. He couldn’t figure out what for the love of him, but that would explain that ‘virgin sacrifice’ story she’d told him. After all, he’d never asked for that. Surely, those guys weren’t twisted enough to get that in their mind without any suggestion?
Keh. All things considered, he wouldn’t put it past them.
Humans couldn’t be trusted, after all.
“You should try to wash yourself,” he said bluntly as she bit down on a pear. “You reek.”
In fact, she smelled like animal blood. That was why he hadn’t been able to tell she was in that bag. Which was definitely weird and—
“Excuse me?” she protested, eyes wide. “I’m so sorry I didn’t have time to wash myself before I was given as a sacrifice, you—”
Was she insane? Did she think that, just because she was a priestess, there’d be nothing he could do to her?
“Whatever, wench,” he growled. “Should probably take care of your clothes, too, ‘cause it ain’t any better.”
Kagome didn’t think she’d ever been so insulted. It took a lot of her self-control not to shoot some reiki at him. She tried to tell herself that he had helped her so far, and that it was probably a bad idea, but damn if it wasn’t tempting. She folded her arms on her chest, self-consciously tightening her clothes around her.
“And what am I supposed to wear then, you pervert?”
The way his eyes widened as color rose to his cheeks his face told her that he had not considered that difficulty.
“That’s not what I— Ah, fuck.”
He quickly got rid of his haori and pushed it in her hands.
“Just get it done. I’ll be— around. Scream if a demon starts eating you alive or— something.”
With that, he was gone, and Kagome was the first surprised when she felt a grin lift the corner of her lips. She’d been told before that she trusted too easily, clearly she had, and perhaps this was another one of those situations, but Inuyasha just seemed weirdly… inoffensive. She didn’t doubt that he could be dangerous, however it was also strangely easy to forget.
Shaking her head, she walked to the lake, and found a place where she would be hidden by rocks to take off her clothes, before taking a deep breath and plunging in.
It was the middle of spring, and the water was biting cold, which didn’t stop her from immersing herself completely. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Inuyasha was right about her needing a bath. She didn’t think she reeked — jerk —, but she didn’t think she smelled great either. She took the time to rub her body energetically, then to rinse and disentangle her hair. She was almost done and was about to start working on her clothes when she felt a disturbance in the forest’s youki.
She only had the time to look up before a giant centipede, with a woman’s chest and head, came out of the woods, screeching in a high-pitched voice. Instinctively, Kagome tried to reach for her bow and arrows, only to find them missing. She didn’t have time for anything else, so she moved as though she did have them at her disposal. With only her mind, as the Centipede was closing in on her, already opening its mouth wide enough to swallow her whole in one bite, she shot a reiki arrow.
The shot was unfocused, difficult to maintain, and it wasn’t nearly as efficient as an actual arrow would have been, but the creature was close enough that there was no way she could have missed it. Fortunately, purification was her strong suit, and the Centipede was destroyed in an inhumane scream.
Kagome remained there, trembling, frozen in place, unable to comprehend what had just happened. She was still immobile when Inuyasha burst into the clearing, jumping in the water in front of her, fully clothed.
“What the hell was that? What—”
His eyes widened and he spun around, though not quite quickly enough for her to miss the blush forming on his cheeks. Kagome slowly realized, while staring at his back, puzzled by his reaction at first, that it was because she was naked. That finally got her to move, and she wrapped herself in his haori, hands shaking so hard that she had to try several times before she made it.
She forced herself to breathe in. She’d fought and killed demons before. Sure, this time she’d been taken completely off guard, and she didn’t have her weapons here, but still. She’d been through worse. She couldn’t let this affect her that much.
“Wash your clothes,” Inuyasha ordered, though the effect was undercut by the fact that his back was still turned to her. “I’ll be closer, ‘kay?” Then, after a moment of awkward silence, he added “Good job on that one”, and took off as fast as he had the last time.
Kagome didn’t even have it in herself to protest his manners right now. She started to wash her priestess garment, with regular movements that she had done a hundred times before. Still, the Centipede’s scream kept replaying in her mind, and she couldn’t seem to shake off that horrible feeling she’d had when she had realized that her bow wasn’t there.
Despite all her efforts, her hands didn’t stop shaking.
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Inuyasha watched the woman from above. Seeing his haori on her shoulders made him feel— weird, to say the least. He hadn’t expected her natural scent to be so pleasant for his nose, and he knew his clothes would definitely smell like her afterwards. Right now, though, the aroma from the mix of their scents was having more of an effect on him than he’d have wanted it to. Stupid demonic instincts…
It would probably only get worse if she chose to stay. He didn’t have much experience in that domain, because he hadn’t been in contact with many dog demons, or not for a long time, but it was likely he’d start to consider her part of his pack. Which meant he’d feel protective of her. Get attached to her.
He sat up with a growl at that thought. He knew he should have wanted her to leave, if only to avoid that. She was human, after all. She wouldn’t have the same instincts as him, and judging on how easy it had apparently been for Kikyo to stab him in the back, he didn’t have many hopes for that one.
Keh. He couldn’t believe Kikyo would have done something like that to him. He’d— Fuck, he didn’t know if he’d loved her, not when they’d spent so long openly distrusting each other, but saying that, on her deathbed? She’d really done him dirty.
And it sucked, because he hadn’t been able to mourn her. He’d been preparing himself to meet her, in the clearing when they found each other, when it had happened. It was like a refuge for them, a place where they just— sat, next to each other, and talked, ignoring their differences. She spoke a lot about not wanting to be a priestess anymore. He listened, mostly. Let her daydream out loud about a world where they’d both be simple humans. Normal.
It had almost made him want that, too.
But Kikyo had died, and the villagers had tried to kill him, almost succeeding that night, because they’d taken him by surprise, and he’d been all alone once more.
He swallowed, risking another glance at the new priestess. He should have gotten rid of her as soon as he’d realized she was a— a person. Should have made sure she wouldn’t be able to guide anyone to this place, and shouldn’t have looked back. However, even though she clearly viewed him as a threat, judging by that first shot of reiki she’d fired at him, she hadn’t commented on the fact that he was a half-demon. Her gaze had lingered on his ears, but outside of that, she hadn’t shown she was even aware of the implications of his status, something humans were usually very keen on reminding him.
That had gotten him… curious. Not hopeful, he didn’t do that anymore, but if she proved to be somewhat interesting, if she could dull the loneliness, even just a bit… Let’s say he wouldn’t be opposed to her presence.
He’d been alone for almost as long as he could remember. The memories of his mother had been fading, and he now tried his best not to think about it, because he couldn’t take that her face wasn’t as clear in his mind as it used to be. He clung to her scent, which he still knew, but he didn’t have much else, and when that’d be gone— He’d have nothing left. He knew it was stupid, to try to make new memories, hadn’t worked well with Kikyo and wouldn’t work with that one either, and yet he couldn’t help but try.
He could take being alone, had for years. He couldn’t take not having a single good thing, a single good person to remember. He just couldn’t.
Down there, the priestess was done with her washing and had laid her clothes on a rock, waiting for them to dry, and he decided that was his cue to go back down.
She jumped when he landed next to her. In other circumstances, he might have found that funny, but right now, he was just satisfied with her reaction. She should be afraid. This place was deadly, and ignoring it wouldn’t do her any good. If she was on her guards, it was all for the better. As long as she didn’t zap him with her reiki, at least.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, frowning, when he didn’t talk immediately.
Yeah. Fine. Just, there was this weirdly childish part of him that liked to imagine that she wouldn’t remember she was supposed to choose whether to leave or to stay today, and that she’d just end up… Well. Staying.
Like she could fucking forget something like that.
“’s all good. You?”
She shivered at the question, but quickly caught herself.
“I’m… fine. I didn’t think a demon would come here. Your youki is pretty powerful. I thought it would keep them at bay.”
“It usually does,” he replied, shrugging off her concern. “Could be ‘cause they smelled the blood, or ‘cause you’re a new smell. Some find reiki… tasty, I guess.”
She threw him a horrified glance, and he took offense at that.
“Calm the fuck down. I don’t eat people. Would be shit if you taste as bad as you smell anyway.”
Kagome rolled her eyes, reminding herself that she should not waste her energy on getting offended because this jerk implied she would taste bad. It just was not worth it.
“Men at your village did that?” he asked, pointing at the injury on the side of her head.
She had done her best to clean it, and she didn’t think the wound was infected. It still throbbed painfully, and it couldn’t possibly look good, but there was not much she could do about it right now.
“They did,” she replied, mouth dry. “They knocked me out before… You know.”
He did, and it still didn’t sit right with him. He wondered if they just wanted to get rid of her and were hoping he would do the dirty work for them, or if there was something else underneath it all, but he just couldn’t come up with an answer.
“So? You gonna go back there or what?”
She flinched, suddenly snapped out of her thoughts, and Inuyasha cursed himself. He was supposed to approach the subject carefully — or, ideally, not at all — and that just wasn’t the way to do it. Especially since he had this irrational wish that she would stay.
“Well, I clearly can’t for the moment,” she said, finally. “My clothes are drying, and I don’t think I feel well enough to travel. But…”
Inuyasha’s ears had perked up, which was pretty pathetic in his opinion, but at least she hadn’t noticed. That wasn’t definitive, not by any means, but it was something, right? If she stayed for a few days, he could perhaps— pretend. Pretend she was something for him that he could never even hope for. Pretend that, maybe, she didn’t feel sick and disgusted from being in his presence.
“But?”
“I just— I have nothing here. I’m not talking about the food, you can clearly find those things, even without the offering—” Inuyasha felt his chest swell with pride, as his instincts to provide for his pack kicked in. “—but there isn’t much I can do about the creatures here. I mean, I barely took down the Centipede, and you and I know it’s not the most dangerous thing to live in those woods, not by a long shot. Not to mention I don’t have herbs to take care of my wounds, or…”
“I know where herbs humans like grow,” Inuyasha interrupted her. “Can’t help you with picking them, don’t really know the difference between ‘em, but I can take ya there. I can go steal stuff from the village, too, but if you’re talking ‘bout your bow, I don’t think I’d make it to the temple. That’s usually under heavy guard.”
Kagome frowned, but nodded.
“I suppose I could learn to focus my reiki without it. It’s doable, in practice. If you know where herbs grow, that would be great, though.”
Inuyasha couldn’t help but think that there was something weird in the way she spoke to him. He was vaguely aware that it was because she talked to him normally, without calling him a monster, a half-breed, or an abomination every sentence, but there was something other than that. He couldn’t identify it as respect — he hadn’t been faced with it enough — however he could hear the underlying kindness in it.
That definitely played a role in him letting her stay, in walking her to the spot where herbs grew, later in the day, and in waiting around to make sure she wouldn’t get in trouble. It was rather nice, to have someone talking to him like that, he wasn’t gonna complain, that was for sure, and yet…
There was also something worrying about it. If she kept it up, it would probably get harder to endure the way others spoke to him, so, when he recognized it for what it was, he told himself he shouldn’t get used to it.
But fuck if he didn’t want to.
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Days passed. Kagome was healing slowly but, though she appreciated not feeling pain every time she got up anymore, the idea was more worrying than pleasant to her. Every time she thought about it, and about going back to the village, she felt a pit in her stomach. She hated it. She had always lived to help others, devoted herself to it body and soul.
And they had betrayed her so easily.
She didn’t think she would be able to change her behavior, even after that. She knew herself well enough to be able tell that if someone was in danger, she would jump in without a second thought. She spontaneously took action for others. It was just who she was, what she did.
Now though, the thought of doing this for them was actively sickening. The thought that they would use her, would take advantage of her again, and the knowledge that she probably wouldn’t be able to stop them— it hurt in so many ways. She didn’t want to be the type of person who couldn’t trust. It was— She believed people were good. Maybe not entirely, and maybe they hadn’t always been, to her and to others, but all in all, she thought everyone deserved her help, her kindness. If they talked to her about their issues, she wanted to be able to listen to them and  to believe them.
The idea that she might not be able to do that anymore was soul-crushing.
Inuyasha, as it turned out, wasn’t of much help when it came to her moral dilemma, and she hated that he had been the first recipient of her new-found mistrust. He didn’t deserve that. Clearly, he had been through enough already.
Not that he had talked to her about it. In general, they didn’t talk much. She’d tried to engage in some conversations, but he’d shrug her off quickly, take off in the woods, or close his eyes, leaning against the wall of his hut. She knew he could probably still hear her, because there was no way he fell asleep that fast, but she got the message, loud and clear.
It didn’t mean there was no communication between them, though. It wasn’t much, and he certainly didn’t make any grand gestures, but if she mentioned something, he’d make sure she would get it. It generally manifested in food, but he also stole some items she’d brought up. She knew she should have said something then, but she hadn’t found it in herself to berate him.
“Thank you,” she’d just said, genuinely grateful.
“Keh. If it can get you to stop talking my ears off, it’ll have been worth it.”
But she was starting to be able to read him, and even if his arms were folded on his chest, and he was frowning, she knew that when his ears perked up that way, it meant he was happy about the attention.
It was the cutest thing ever.
“You shouldn’t put yourself in danger by going to the village, though,” she’d added, genuine worry piercing in her voice. “I can make it without these. I really don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”
As most of their conversations, it had ended abruptly, with him rolling his eyes and growling “Whatever” before running off in the forest, and she’d let out a long sigh. Just once, she would have liked not to feel like a complete nuisance when she talked to him. Was that really too much to ask?
It wasn’t even like they could avoid each other completely, otherwise she would have given him as much space as he wanted. Instead, they lived together, in a really small space. He had taken to sleeping regularly outside, and when she’d voiced her concerns, because she really, really didn’t want to push him out of his living space, he had vaguely replied that he did that before she was here, that he liked sleeping in trees, and that she was overestimating her own importance.
Another extremely fulfilling conversation.
So Kagome had done her best to use the same language as him. She couldn’t be as silent as him, because she was the type of person to express herself vocally, and not with growls and grunts, but she could pick herbs and fruits, even if she still didn’t stray far from the hut, and she could kill small demons. So that was a start.
She did her best to pay attention to him silently, to avoid scaring him off, which wasn’t simple for her. It was obvious that he was used to a rough existence. There was no hidden softness in him. Whether in his body, all muscles and bones, or in his behavior, he seemed to treat everything with the same harshness, including himself. It was that very harshness that came out when he was talking to her. That became a lot easier to accept once she realized that it was just who he was and that it was very likely that he hadn’t received anything else.
She wanted to show him something else.
That turned out not to be such an easy task. He always pushed her away when she tried to show him kindness. She didn’t know if he just really didn’t like her, or if it made him uncomfortable for some reason. She didn’t want to impose anything on him, she just wanted him to know. Not everything needed to be so hard all the time.
When she was coming back from picking fruits, she found him knees deep in the lake, and chest bare. It wasn’t the first time, and she was pretty sure he had caught glimpses of her naked as well. Normally, she would have been uncomfortable with it, but her attachment to privacy had greatly diminished recently, so she just watched him from the corner of her eyes, absent-mindedly noticing his toned chest.
She heard him groaning in annoyance as he attempted to untangle his hair. His claws seemed to be doing a pretty good job at that, but it still looked like an unpleasant experience. She winced in sympathy for him, and then the idea hit her.
“Do you want me to brush your hair?” she asked, words leaving her mouth before she had really decided whether or not it was a good idea.
The look he gave her told her that it definitely wasn’t one. Yet, because she just didn’t know when to quit, she insisted.
“You got me a brush, remember? That would be a lot easier, and I would actually see what I’m doing.”
Inuyasha glared at her, and Kagome swallowed. She was pretty sure that was an argument she’d just lost. It was obvious, from the look in his eyes, that he was doubting her. Well, it would just be another failure to add to her list. No big deal, fine, whatev—
“Okay. But if you try anything funny, I’ll tear off your hand.”
“That’s great!” she beamed. “Just give me a second to get the brush!”
He was still eyeing her suspiciously when she came back, and she wondered what he thought she would do. Beat him to death with the brush?
She sat on a rock, and he took place between her legs, back turned to her. He tilted his head, and she got to work, an inexplicable grin forming on her lips. His hair was surprisingly smooth and silky between her hands, and it was a pleasant feeling underneath her fingers. After the first tense minutes, Inuyasha started to relax. His shoulders fell down, and she heard him taking in a deep breath, followed by a long exhale.
Her movements were slow, careful. Soft. Evidently, he didn’t mind the treatment.
“Can I touch your ears?” she asked, curious, after a while. She had wondered about them since she had first seen him.
“Don’t pull on ‘em,” he mumbled back, voice almost slurred, as though he was falling asleep.
She decided to take that as a yes. Hesitantly, she reached to take one in her hand, and let out a small exclamation when she found it feeling like real fur. Not just that, but it was pleasantly pliable, and she had to actively resist an urge to play with it.
Don’t, Kagome, she told herself. She didn’t want him to push her away again.
But Inuyasha didn’t say anything as she massaged them. Instead, he let out what she thought was a contented sigh.
“So,” he said, still with that half-asleep voice, “your injury’s better. Are ya, y’know, going back there? Have ya made your mind ‘bout that?”
Kagome froze and let go of his ears. She cleared her throat awkwardly as she took back the brush and got back to taking care of his hair.
“I’m in no hurry,” she admitted, voice small. “Why, do you want to get rid of me that bad?”
She had intended to say it as a joke, but it sounded desperate instead.
Inuyasha’s long silence after that only made her feel worse. If he was trying to find a nice way to say it, it was more than she had expected. She thought she would only receive bluntness in response, but she could take him at least not wanting to hurt her feelings too badly.
“…nah,” he said, so low she almost missed it. “Y’can stay a while longer. Or a lot longer. I don’t mind.”
That almost had her dropping her brush.
“Really?” she asked in disbelief. “You told me I was breathing too much of your air.”
“Didn’t mean that.”
“You said if I hurt myself when picking fruits, you’d me get eaten by the wolves.”
“I wouldn’t have done that.”
“You—”
“Ugh, fine, go, see if I care!” he finally exploded, standing up and stepping away from her.
He found her with a bright, wide smile on her face, and his heart skipped a beat.
He didn’t know he was capable of making someone smile like that.
“I’d love to stay,” she said softly. “I just didn’t think you’d want me to.”
“Well I told ya. I don’t care.”
“Actually,” she grinned, leaning forward, “you said you didn’t mind.”
“I meant I didn’t care!”
“Right.”
“I don’t care! I fucking mind if you’re going to be like that!”
Then Kagome bursted out laughing, and Inuyasha felt like he couldn’t breathe simply from listening to her. The laugh flew high in the sky, losing itself between the clouds, and Inuyasha felt lucky from having been there to witness that. Hearing her laugh. Certainly felt like an event in and of itself.
“Thank you,” she said, simply.
“Keh. You’re welcome.”
When she pushed herself off the rock to get up, he held out his hand for her. He didn’t know why he did, certainly couldn’t find a good reason, but he did anyway.
She took it without any hesitation, ignoring the calloused palms and the claws. This time, he felt like he could finally breathe, like she was injecting air directly to his lungs.
He could get used to that feeling.
161 notes · View notes
shijiujun · 4 years
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Can I be cheeky& also jump on the Chuyao fic prompt bandwagon, please? Sham marriage idea proposed by LY when his sister appears to drag him back home. Except LY announces straight up he can't as he is with QCS (We are married...spiritually!) and everyone, even QCS, going wth??? Then there's chaos (LY family) but also support (Bai family /all of Shanghai)? And somehow LY & QCS evolve from friends to lovers? I imagine QCS will suffer in this fic becoz of LY antics. Thank you so much!!
ANON, HERE YOU GO: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25225831
-
“You can’t take me away from Lao Qiao, he’s my husband!” Lu Yao blurts out suddenly in the chaos, yelling at the top of his lungs.
The ensuing silence comes swiftly, and it’s so quiet that he thinks he can hear everyone’s heartbeats.
“You are?” yells Youning, about to launch a ceramic vase at an unsuspecting person in front of her.
“I am?” thinks Chusheng, a fist of his opponent’s hair in his right hand.
--
Read the full chapter below
“You can’t take me away from Lao Qiao, he’s my husband!” Lu Yao blurts out suddenly in the chaos, yelling at the top of his lungs.
The ensuing silence comes swiftly, and it’s so quiet that he thinks he can hear everyone’s heartbeats.
“You are?” yells Youning, about to launch a ceramic vase at an unsuspecting person in front of her.
“I am?” thinks Chusheng, a fist of his opponent’s hair in his right hand.
Lu Yao regrets it the moment the words leave his mouth, because he’d said whatever was the first thing on his mind in this moment of crisis, if only to keep everyone from fighting to the death. How did the situation even escalate like this?
His sister (and his siblings, to be accurate) rarely find themselves surprised by their youngest brother, but this time, Lu Miao’s eyes go comically wide as his words sink in. As soon as the surprise comes, however, the cold fury sets in, and Chusheng turns around just in time to have Lu Miao turn her attention on him. If looks could kill…
Chusheng is a little ashamed to say that he might be dead right now.
“You better explain, Lu Yao,” seethes Lu Miao.
===
He sits uncomfortably on the chair in Bai Qili’s manor, looking at his hands on his laps. Next to him, Chusheng sits as well in silence. The man has not exposed him so far, and Lu Yao wonders if he will — on one hand he hopes fervently that Chusheng helps him through this, but the other part fears Chusheng’s anger and disgust after.
He embarrassed Chusheng in front of so many people earlier. Lu Yao basically fake-outed Chusheng and dragged him into this farce, a farce that has no easy solution.
Why didn’t he use his stupid brain before spouting nonsense?
“You must be joking,” Lu Miao snorts, considering Lu Yao. “Which church or registry would have allowed you to officially marry another man?”
“We’re married spiritually!” Lu Yao retorts, when no one else speaks up. “We did our baitang, three bows and all.”
Chusheng doesn’t contradict him, but Lu Yao can almost feel the murderous intent emanating off the inspector who’s sitting closest to him.
“You are being entirely ridiculous, if it’s not officially registered then it doesn’t count at all! You’re coming back with me right this instant-“
“Why are you always sticking your nose into my affairs where it’s not welcomed? I’m perfectly happy here, have you ever thought about what I want? I’m not three anymore, jie!”
They might have continued to argue for hours after, maybe shatter some plates and cups in the process, if not for Bai Qili’s intervention.
“… Lu-xiaojie, perhaps a baitang doesn’t mean much to you or the rest of the Lu family, but the Bai family and Green Dragon Gang takes the ceremony very seriously. Since San Tu is married to Chusheng by ritual, I’m afraid he is one of ours now. If your family insists, I’m sure I can make arrangements for an official registration, conventional or not," the man drawls, as imposing as ever.
Lu Yao almost gapes at Bai Qili — out of everyone present here in this living room, Lu Yao was sure the old man would be the first to beat him to death and then toss his body into the river for daring to corrupt his Chusheng, never mind that Lu Yao comes from a powerful family himself.
How would he not know what a taboo it is for two men to be together in Shanghai, or the rest of China? If they were overseas — Paris, London, anywhere, this would be much more acceptable, so to hear Bai Qili just go with the flow without a word of protest or even a look at Lu Yao is not what he expects of the head of the Bai family.
Finally daring to brave a look at Chusheng, Lu Yao sees his best friend glance over at the same time and freezes.
There’s no anger, not that Lu Yao can see. Some exasperation and resignation perhaps as Chusheng sports an expression that is similar to the one he has when he’s experiencing severe gastric.
San Tu, you can’t tell me you don’t know just how much he dotes on and gives in to you.
This was something Youning said a while ago, and he shudders, all the hair on his skin standing up as Chusheng reaches out a little hesitantly, and then wrapping Lu Yao’s smaller hand in his.
“Da-jie, lao ye-zi, I’m sorry for not informing the both of you earlier, this was indeed an oversight on my part. We completed the ceremony in the Green Dragon Gang’s altar hall… we were still figuring out how to tell you both. My apologies,” he lies smoothly. “And if here is where San Tu wants to stay, I won’t have anyone take him away from me.”
Fuck, Lu Yao curses internally, his eyes widening because why does this sound so, so real?
A squeeze around his hand reminds him that it’s his turn to play his part, and so Lu Yao continues, “Jie, please. I just want to be here with Lao Qiao. If you… if you decide to take me back home anyway, if you do anything to take him away from me… I won’t want to live anymore.”
Lu Miao stares for a good while, but tries again, “Do I not know you well enough? You won’t have the guts to do that. Stop theatening me, it won’t work-“
“You didn’t think I’d cut myself off from the family,” Lu Yao returns quietly. “But I got out from right under your nose, didn’t I? At least for the first year.”
“San Tu, do you even know what you’re doing? He’s a gang member!”
“Hey, what’s wrong with a gang member? Are you looking down on my brother?” interrupts Youning suddenly, her hands on her hips as she furiously snaps at Lu Miao. “This gang member of a brother has been taking care of San Tu, where were you guys when he was down to his last silver and almost getting chased out of his house? It’s Lu Yao’s fortune to have bagged someone as outstanding as Chusheng-ge!"
Lu Yao pales a little at the mention of a fine example of how he’s not taking care of himself well and also at Youning’s insinuation that he married up, then hurries to say, “Jie, there’s no one else for me but Qiao Chusheng. Where he goes, I will go.”
Even in death, is the unspoken part to that declaration.
She falls silent at that. After a beat passes, Lu Miao turns her attention to Chusheng, as if saying, if my brother wants to be ridiculous, so be it, but are you going to ruin your reputation and everything you’ve built just to play along to his whims?
“And you love him?” she asks.
Unconsciously, Lu Yao clutches back at Chusheng’s hand in his, a plea.
“I love and cherish him above all else,” Chusheng replies without the slightest bit of hesitation.
If Lu Yao ignores everyone else around them, he can almost believe Chusheng when he says that.
===
It’s a clusterfuck of epic proportions. Lu Yao is curled up on the couch in Chusheng’s room at the Bai manor, with his knees drawn up to his chest and his fingers pressing at his temple as he contemplates just how much trouble he’s in. Not only has he pissed off his sister, because he’s sure Chusheng is mad at him too.
Now that the anger at his sister and the Lu family has abated somewhat, Lu Yao is finally left alone in his thoughts as he marvels at how bold he was earlier.
He regrets it now of course, but damn, this is the first time he’s been able to pull one over his sister. As ridiculous as he was, Lu Yao manages to think through the consequences of his actions — mainly the possibility that his family will try to do anything and everything within their power to create trouble for Chusheng.
He’s already dealt Chusheng with such a heavy blow, and over his dead body will the Lu family hurt even a strand of hair on his head, Lu Yao vows.
The only other problem is Chusheng’s happiness in the future. Once the news of his sham marriage with Chusheng goes out, will women dare to approach him after? What if there’s a woman that Chusheng really, really likes right now, and Lu Yao has basically ruined everything for him?
Would Chusheng hate him?
So absorbed he is in his thoughts, his teeth gnawing lightly at his nails, that he misses Chusheng’s entry into the room until the man flops down right next to him on the couch. Lu Yao startles so much that he almost falls off the edge of his seat, if not for Chusheng’s fast reflexes.
“You are honestly…” Chusheng admonishes without heat, sounding absolutely tired.
“I’m sorry,” Lu Yao rarely apologizes and admits his wrongdoings, but here he is. “Lao Qiao, I’m so sorry, I swear I wasn’t thinking-“
“Did I spoil you too much?” the man sighs, leaning into his seat with his eyes closed. “That you would pull such a huge lie in front of your family and mine and think that I would, without question, play along?”
The phrasing is strange enough that Lu Yao knows Chusheng is really, really upset.
Panicked, he replies, “Lao Qiao, I- I’ll go and tell them that it was a lie. I just… I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking! I’ll tell Bai lao-ye that it’s a lie, that you’re helping me deceive my sister, so don’t-“
Don’t be angry with me, don’t ignore me, don’t hate me.
“Forget it. You made the announcement to more than 60 people today, San Tu. I just barely smoothed this over with lao ye-zi, and what’s done has been done,” Chusheng finally says, patting at Lu Yao’s shoulder. “We’ll figure this out tomorrow. You can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Other than the fact that Lu Yao doesn’t sleep well in new environments, the events of today have rattled him significantly, and with Chusheng lying on the couch surely awake as well, Lu Yao finds himself staring at the ceiling until dawn breaks.
Lu Yao knows he can fix this for Chusheng.
Can’t he?
===
“Inspector Qiao, congratulations!”
“Da-ge, congratulations! What kind of a brother are you huh, you got married and didn’t think to get us to throw a party for you?”
“Ahh… no wonder Detective Lu has been spending so much time with you recently. You hid it so well, lao-da!”
Chusheng has to be immensely thankful for the support from his brothers and the people who actually know him, like the owners of the snack stalls he frequents, even the newspaper boys that Chusheng regularly tips and everyone at the station. Telegrams start coming in from other precincts that are headed by several other members of the gang, and even some of the petty criminals that are stuck in the holding cell at the station for a few weeks give him their blessings.
Of course, while the people happy for him and Lu Yao actually number more than Chusheng expected, there are as many others who gossip and shoot him strange looks. He can almost hear the, look at him, such a fine young man, if not for his unconventional tastes in a partner.
By the end of the morning, Chusheng has unplugged all electronic communication devices in his office and the doors are firmly locked, with instructions to Salim to not let anyone in unless an entire village is on the cusp of imminent death.
He’s trying his best not to think too much about it. Chusheng meant what he said to Lu Miao before, that there isn’t much he can do for Lu Yao except to ensure that he will not suffer in silence. With the stunt Lu Yao pulled yesterday, this is the best Chusheng can do for him. For now, his strategy is to simply wait until everyone has forgotten that he and Lu Yao are married, and then…
And then what?
It’s not as if baitang is child’s play. Can he simple fake-divorce Lu Yao at the end of this? When will this end, in the first place? A year? Two years, a decade? And let’s say if they do manage that, will any proper and self-respecting woman even consider him?
Chusheng doesn’t have any prejudice against same-sex couples — back when he worked at the docks which saw an all-male staff, sometimes he heard stories about how some brothers would help each other out and find companionship in each other as well — but not everyone shares the same views as he.
At the thought, Chusheng calls, “Ah Dou.”
Ah Dou, who is patiently sorting through Chusheng’s actual work documents and the pile of congratulatory messages that came for him today, looks up from where he’s standing at the shelves.
“Get Liu Zi to send some brothers to protect Lu Yao,” he says with a frown.
That dumbass probably wouldn’t even notice if someone was intending to do him harm and with the way the gossip mill is running, it’s better to be safe than sorry.
And as for the future, possibly marrying a woman…
Chusheng shakes his head, clearing his mind of wishful thoughts.
For someone who doesn’t know if he can live to see the next day, who has blood all over his hands and is no good person at all, Chusheng has never expected to have his own family.
Not even Lu Yao should be tied down to him.
Salim pops his head through a small opening in the doors and asks, “Sir! Two congratulatory flower stands came for you, do you want me to set it up outside the office?”
Finally, Chusheng loses it.
“Anyone who makes another congratulatory remark can spend a night in jail!” he snaps. “What, do people not have anything better to do? I’m not fucking kidding. I don’t want to hear another message coming through the doors of the station, do you hear me?”
“Okay,” Salim replies a little dejectedly, closing the door shut behind him again.
Of course, his outburst and anger is what Lu Yao hears about a few hours later. Remorseful, he turns up at the station and sneaks into Chusheng’s office.
“… what’re you doing here?” Chusheng asks, looking up from his papers.
“Lao Qiao… I’m sorry,” he apologizes, biting at his lower lip. “I didn’t realize there’d be such a huge fuss over this.”
Lu Yao is the perfect picture of a sad, pitiful puppy, and Chusheng has all along doted on Lu Yao, so the image does tug at his heartstrings. As soon as the urge to comfort him comes, Chusheng frowns.
He’s got this all wrong. He’s the one who was wronged and taken advantaged of, so why does Lu Yao look like he’s the one being bullied?
Sighing, Chusheng kicks at the chair in front of him, signalling for Lu Yao to sit down.
“I’m not angry, San Tu. I would have appreciated some warning, and maybe we could have thought things through a little, but as I said last night, that’s all been done and we can’t turn back,” he points out.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Lu Yao swears, “I… I’ll take on all the cases you have while this marriage thing is going on for free? I can… I promise I won’t make you pay for any of my meals again, Lao Qiao. I… I won’t even hang around anymore outside of a case, just… just…”
At that, Chusheng finally laughs, and the sound is a huge relief for Lu Yao, who hasn’t heard him laugh since the shit that went down yesterday.
“I’ll hold you onto the first two then,” Chusheng says nonchalantly. “San Tu ah, what are you thinking? We’re brothers, are we not? You said before that you cherish the friends you have here and… it’s the same for me. If it’s something you want to do, or don’t want to do, I’m at your back ready to support you. For as long as this ruse has to last.”
“Even… if that means you’re in a gay relationship with me? Even if no woman would want to marry you after this?”
“Even then,” Chusheng nods. “I’m no good person to marry anyway.”
“That’s not true!” Lu Yao protests.
“Alright,” Chusheng waves him off. “I’ve already gotten earfuls from Youning and lao ye-zi for not treating you right, so… I guess since everyone thinks we’re married now, you need to move in to my apartment. Get Liu Zi to help you pack, and you really should move in as soon as possible.”
Lu Yao didn’t even think of that. As the implications of staying together with Chusheng sink in, he stiffens in his seat.
“What, you laid your claim on me first and now you’re being all shy about it?” snorts Chusheng, reaching over and poking at Lu Yao’s forehead. “I have an extra room, so don’t worry, husband.”
“Mnn,” Lu Yao nods at that, and his cheeks flush a little pink at the term. “I’ll go pack then.”
“And we have to do dinner at the Bai manor tonight!” calls Chusheng after him.
At the door, Lu Yao blanches.
===
They live together as friends from then on. Compared to Youning, Chusheng is the perfect roommate. At the very least, the likelihood of Chusheng setting something on fire is minimal, and the man’s house surprisingly suits Lu Yao’s tastes. As promised, there is enough space for them to have a bedroom each, and the storage room at the back turns into half a study for Lu Yao and his books.
Lu Yao decides that the least he can do is cook (and now that he has lost his source of income by offering to work for free, the only way he gets fed without having to pawn off his treasures is to ask for grocery money from Chusheng) for them both. When Chusheng realizes that Lu Yao is cooking regularly, he starts coming home early on a daily basis as well.
Bai Le Men and Chang San Tang are off-limits, unfortunately. For now, Chusheng is experiencing what it’s like to live as a monk, but the inconveniences stop there.
In fact, having Lu Yao in the same house as he has its perks, namely the ability to drag Lu Yao out of bed early in the morning for cases.
It’s their first case since the announcement and there is no lack of attention on them, as this is the first time they’re being seen out in public together. When some men in the crowd begin to focus on Lu Yao with less than friendly gazes, Chusheng naturally steps closer to him, his eyes steadily sweeping over the crowd.
He’s mine, he’s trying to say, if you’ve got anything you want to say you come at me.
They solve the murder two days later, and Lu Yao jumps in surprise when Chusheng slides three silvers over the top of the dining table, his usual payment for consulting on cases.
“What…”
“Save it,” Chusheng’s eyes crinkle a little as he smiles, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you eyeing my wallet recently.”
Touched, Lu Yao feels hot tears come to his eyes, “Lao Qiao, I knew it, you’re the best to me-“
“Yeah, remember that the next time you try to use me to lie to your family. I don’t want you to spring an adopted child on me next,” Chusheng downs his wine, shaking his head.
Not as many changes happen after his fake-marriage to Lu Yao, much to Chusheng’s bewilderment.
On a usual day, it’s typical for him to buy breakfast, lunch or dinner for Lu Yao even before they began to live together. The only difference is that he’s going out to buy breakfast every day now before Lu Yao wakes up instead of every few days. Chusheng still chauffeurs him up and down, only the destination is no longer the apartment he shared with Youning, but Chusheng’s house.
Before this, he had Lu Yao’s cooking frequently too as the man would roll up his sleeves and cook for him and Youning at least one a week or every two weeks. They’re both slowly getting used to each other in close proximity, and the latest of developments involve them making grocery trips together every four days.
Everything else has stayed pretty much the same.
When Chusheng sees an imported coat made of high quality sheep’s fur as he passes by a store one day, he doesn’t even think much of it before he’s walking in and buying the expensive outerwear for Lu Yao. The price doesn’t even cross his mind. All he knows is that Lu Yao will like this.
He presents the bag to Lu Yao over dinner the same day, and Chusheng is right.
Lu Yao loves it so much that he leans over the table and presses a kiss to Chusheng’s cheek in excitement.
“What, are you really that happy?” Chusheng teases, but warmth fills him as he sees that he’s made the right choice.
“Of course I am! You know how scared I am of the cold,” Lu Yao points out, hugging the material to himself. “This material is known for trapping heat in!”
A few weeks later, Lu Yao ironically catches the flu bug despite how protected he is, and ends up bedridden with fever. To better take care of him, Chusheng lets Lu Yao rest in his bed so he doesn’t have to run between two rooms.
The bed sleeps two now, even after Lu Yao has made a full recovery. It feels less empty that way and both Chusheng and Lu Yao find themselves warmer under the covers sharing a bed.
As the weeks go by, they shift from having their own sides of the bed, to falling asleep and waking up in each other’s arms, their legs tangled together. Most of the time, Chusheng wakes to Lu Yao’s hair in his nose and his arm resting over Lu Yao’s waist.
And when Chusheng gets hurt by a rival gang involved in their latest case, Lu Yao tells the nurse outside the operating theatre that he’s Qiao Chusheng’s husband loudly. In the days after the operation. the nurses even bring an extra bed into the ward so Lu Yao can keep an eye on his husband.
The nurses and doctors, for one, think that their relationship is cute.
They even survive a trip to Hai Ning to visit Lu Yao’s father. Chusheng has to endure four separate shovel talks, each sounding more deadly than the previous one, but they get to announce their relationship to Lu Yao’s mother at her grave too.
On the train journey back, Lu Yao dozes off against Chusheng’s shoulder. He lifts up his arm to hug Lu Yao to him so he’s laying a bit more comfortably without question, enjoying the feeling of having Lu Yao in his hold.
===
A year after Lu Yao tried to con his way into matrimony with Chusheng, he returns home to an empty house, Chusheng not yet returned from the station. As Lu Yao passes the dining table for the kitchen to put his groceries away, a piece of paper and a metal trinket catches his eye.
It’s a marriage certificate. As real as it can be, with Lu Yao and Chushueng’s name on it.
The realization that they’ve been living just like a married couple in the past year hits him like a freight train and his legs feel weak.
Indeed, they are as real as any married couple existent in the country, minus the sex.
Of course Lu Yao loves Chusheng. There has never been any question about that. Chusheng is the only person Lu Yao truly cares about, more than he cares about himself.
Wherever he goes, I will go, even in death, he said then.
I love and cherish him above all else, Chusheng had answered.
With a small smile tugging at his lips, Lu Yao slides the gold band onto his fourth finger.
Busy at the stove making Chusheng’s favourite beef stew when Chusheng comes home later, Lu Yao is prepared when the man comes close, sliding his arms around his waist and pressing himself against Lu Yao’s back, his chin hooked on Lu Yao’s shoulder.
It’s not difficult to catch the gleam of an identical band sitting on Chusheng’s hand/
“Smells good,” Chusheng inhales deeply.
Lu Yao sets the spatula aside and covers the pot with a lid to let it simmer, and once he’s free, Chusheng turns him around and reaches for his lips.
They kiss softly as if they’ve done this countless of times, when it’s only their first, proper kiss, but it doesn't matter.
“Tomorrow,” Chusheng breathes, his forehead pressed against Lu Yao’s after they part finally for air.
“Let’s baitang for real in the ancestral hall.”
===
*baitang 拜堂 - Traditional Chinese wedding custom which involves three kowtows, there are variations but usually the couple kowtows to heaven & earth, to their ancestors, and then to their parents. Some baitangs will have the couple kowtowing to each other.
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ktheist · 4 years
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interlude: sit still, look pretty. [1]
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a spin off from nice guys finish last fic.
synopsis. yoongi is like the embodiment of the dark side of the moon while jungkook is the luminous, shining side that showers you with his light. one grounds you down to earth and the other makes you want to reach your hand up and touch the cosmos.
but you can’t be making decisions on your own now. everything you do and all you will do, is subject to the happiness of the little bundle of joy you had along the way of your fallen marriage.
and it’s obvious as day, your daughter won’t accept anyone else as her father other than min yoongi and nobody else as her mother other than you.
muses. ex-husband!dad!yoongi x ceo!mom!reader x co ceo!jungkook
genre. slice of life
chapters. previous | next
words. 1.2k
note. i’ve been pretty busy with classes and assignments so i decided to do this. i’m more of a ‘let the story flow’ kind of person so i can’t say for sure how many chapters it’ll be lmaooo 
x
you like yoongi - you were married and you loved him then but you still like him now. maybe it’s the way he keeps it real with you. tells things straight to your face. 
you like it. keeps you grounded.
but that’s also why you divorced him. sometimes his words are a little too blunt. a bit too imposing even. felt like he was holding you back from what you wanted to do most which was running your own startup with your rival-turned-co ceo.
“you’re gonna let our three year old hang out at the office on the day you’re supposed to pick her up from kindergarten but failed to do so, so i had to drop her off here because you said by the time i got here, you’d be done with the meeting,” like right now when he uses that judging tone of his and that stone face without any trace of empathy whatsoever, “which you clearly aren’t?”
you don’t hold back from crunching your nose with displeasure. a hard frown settling on your features. you can feel hwayoung physically shifting in your arm. her giggles have died down and you know for sure, if you glance down, you’ll see her smile taking a turn downwards. she may be young but she’s not blind to the tension that lapses between her mother and father.
so for your daughter’s sake, you press a kiss on her forehead and drop on your knees to set her down on her little feet. 
“baby, why don’t you play with auntie joy while i talk to your dad?” she’s still giving you those puppy eyes - the same ones you used to give to yoongi throughout the three years you spent raising her together - when you signaled for joy to come and take her.
she doesn’t protest, letting joy hold her hand and guide her out of your office, the squeak of her shoes cutting through the silence until it’s out of shot.
“seriously, what’s your problem?” you run a hand through your hair, pushing the strands you had initially styled to frame your face back, “i told you it was a really important meeting. i stepped out to say thanks for doing me a favor even though it’s rude to walk out of a meeting with the directors. hwayoung doesn’t care - i brought all her toys here so she could play with them while waiting.”
his eyes widens in mockery, voice raising into a pitch “oh wow. you went out of your way to make sure your daughter isn’t bored. con-fucking-grats. do you want a pat on the back for a job well done?”
then his voice drops, eyes boring into yours like he’s the least bit impressed, “she wouldn’t even have to be here if you did your part as her parent and picked her up after school like you’re supposed to.”
“not everyone has the luxury to laze around at home and go ‘oh! look at the time. time to pick up my daughter because i’m fucking min-no work-yoongi’.” you retort, heart pounding rapidly in your chest, face hot from pure unadulterated anger that begins to make its course the way only min yoongi can.
it’s only until a moment and yoongi’s crestfallen face later, do you realize the weight of your words. 
“wow.” the man nods, tongue prodding from inside his cheek. he walks backwards slowly, palms held midair as though in surrender.
but you don’t feel like a winner as you watch the man you used to share your fears and aspirations with, twirl around and walk straight out of the door like he’s walking out of your life. again.
“fuck.” you hiss under your breath, hand swiping the mug of pens closest to you off the desk. a shattering clamor cuts through the leftover tension.
it’s a whole solid minute later that jungkook pops his head into your office, the rest of his body outside still visible from the see through wall. a whistle escapes his mouth at the sight of pens and glass pieces strewn across the floor, a shard glinting dully next to your own heel.
“trouble in paradise?”
he strides in, hands buried in the pockets of his cobalt blue trousers.
“piss off.” you grunt, shooting him a probably uncalled for glare.
jungkook doesn’t seem offended, eyebrows knitting together in a rather concerned frown, “hey, we’re a team now. i hate to see you like this as much as i hate to see you regret it when you step out of that door still mad over what your ex-husband said.”
“or did.” he adds as an afterthought.
“he didn’t do jack shit.” you confess, shoulders slouching, “i called him an unemployed loser even though i know he quit his job so he could pay more attention to hwayoung - fuck, i’m an asshole.”
you pinch the bridge of your nose just between your eyes, willing the memories of yoongi’s crestfallen face away even though you know it’ll haunt your dreams for at least a week. 
“that, you are.” jungkook nods from the corner of your eye.
“but you’re not a bad mother, ____. i saw how much you wanted to be the one to pick hwayoung up from school but also didn’t want to miss the meeting. in the end you chose to stay and lead the meeting. thanks to you, it looks like we’ll be coming to an agreement faster than we thought we would.” he adds, and that’s the thing about jungkook, he doesn’t sugarcoat it but he doesn’t necessarily throw a brick in your face and tell you to take it for what it is.
and all of a sudden, you feel like a dead weight have been lifted off your shoulders. your spine feels a little straighter and your chest more puffed than a minute ago.
“meeting starts back in five. let’s wrap it up so you can go back to being a badass mom.” the corners of his lips tilt higher just in the briefest second before he twirls on his feet and walk out of your office.
you tuck the hem of your skirt down, smoothing out the creases and retying the ribbon around the neckline of your peach colored blouse before strutting out of your own office, head held high, heels clicking against the floor, announcing your return to the meeting room.
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