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ficsnthings · 3 years

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Sweet Love┃Ash (Supernatural) x Reader

Summary: Alternate first meeting between the Winchester brothers and Ash, featuring the Reader, Ash’s plus size wife.

Rated: Mature - sexual references/situations

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y/h/l = your hair length

y/h/c = your hair colour

y/e/c = your eye colour

“We could really use all the help we can get.”, Sam said.

“Well, we can’t.” Ellen told them, “But Ash will.”

“Who’s Ash?”, Sam asked.

“Ash!”, Ellen hollered.

The man who had been asleep on top of the pool table when the brothers had entered the bar abruptly awoke, briefly thrashing in disorientation.

“What?”, The recently awoken man called back, “Closing time?”

Sam looked to Jo in disbelief, “That’s Ash?”

“Mhm.” She replied, “He’s a genius.”

Just then a woman emerged through the swinging kitchen doors. She was beautiful with (y/h/l), (y/h/c) hair, (y/e/c) eyes, and a full figure that boasted of wide, voluptuous hips. Her thick thighs were wrapped snugly in dark, high-waisted denim paired with a cropped black tank, and a plaid long sleeved shirt draped around her waist.

And she was carrying a full plate piled high with sausage, bacon, eggs, toast and hashbrowns.

Dean had never been in love, but he thought this might be what it felt like.

Ash smiled when he caught sight of the beautiful creature gliding across the floor towards him, “Is that my gorgeous wife, my Goddess of Sunshine, bringing me breakfast?”

Dean was pretty sure that his brain straight up short circuited when he heard the dishevelled man before him refer to this absolutely indescribable creature as his ‘wife'.

You giggled at your husband's antics, a light blush rising to your cheeks and a cute little skip invading your step as you closed the remaining space between yourself and your mullet-rocking love. You paid no mind to the Harvelles and the Winchesters, too caught up in the warmth of Ash's smile, the little spark in his eyes. Life around hunters was short, and since you knew these guys weren't a threat you weren't going to waste time worrying about them when you could be spending these precious moments with the man of your dreams.

As soon as you were within range, Ash’s hands automatically reached out to grasp at your alluringly wide hips, using them to pull you toward him, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into soft, pliable flesh. His legs spread at the knees where they dangled over the edge of the pool table he was sitting on to accommodate your form stepping between them.

You set the breakfast plate down beside him on the table, one arm reaching up to wrap around the back of his neck, fingers delicately gliding through the long hair at his nape. You plucked a piece of sausage from the large plate you had made and held it up in front of him. Feeding each other was just one of the many public displays of affection that the two of you frequently engaged in with a disgusting lack of shame. He quickly took the hint and parted his lips, taking the bite into his mouth and groaning as the flavor hit his tongue.

He swallowed the morsel, then leaned forward to press dozens of playful, nipping kisses into the crook of your neck, causing your giggling to recommence as he cooed, “You’re far too good to me, My Love. Don’t know how I got so lucky to end up with someone so wonderful as you.”

Dean was honestly wondering about that as well.

Seriously, the dude had a freaking mullet and looked like he belonged on the road with Lynyrd Skynyrd. He was scrawny, of average height and had a mullet. It was strange (but also kind of awesome) enough to warrant mentioning twice. Dean had no idea how a guy like that could end up with someone like you. He couldn't decide whether he should be jealous or declare the other man his hero.

Ellen, while used to the cloying PDA that the two of you shared as a couple, had clearly decided that was enough of that and said dryly, “Alright lovebirds, if you could pry yourselves away from one another for a few minutes, these boys need some help from you, Ash.”

* * * *

“Sorry, I guess I haven't introduced myself, yet.” You apologized, holding out your arm towards the Winchester brothers for a handshake as you took your rightful perch upon Ash's lap. “I’m (Y/N),” you informed them. “Married to the genius.”

Sam accepted your proffered hand and formally introduced himself in turn, where as Dean scoffed as he dropped a folder to land with a smack! onto the bar top, “You gotta be kidding, this guys no genius. He’s a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie.”

His dismissive tone immediately made you bristle. You hated when jerks would come in here looking for Ash's help only to then completely dismiss and underestimate his intelligence based solely upon his appearance. It pissed you off every time, though it amused Ash to no end.

As if to prove this, Ash smiled, eyes narrowing on Dean in a look of assessment, “I like you.”

“Thanks,” Dean muttered, no further convinced that this dude was anywhere near the ‘genius’ Ellen and Jo claimed he was.

You, less than impressed with Dean's attitude, snorted, “You know, Asshole, Ash is the one meant to be helping you, not the other way around. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to judge a book by its cover? Just because the genius comes wrapped in this sexy, mullet rocker package doesn’t negate his intelligence. And again, you asked for his help, so a little respect would go a long way.”

The reprimand left Dean's mouth agape, his expression becoming thoroughly dumbfounded upon hearing you utter the words ‘sexy, mullet rocker package’ with such conviction and clear lack of humor. If he'd thought his mind had short circuited earlier after hearing Ash call you his wife, at this point Dean would be surprised if his brain hadn't begun leaking out of his ears.

It was all proving to be a little too much for Sam, who had to turn his face away in a desperate attempt to try and cover up his uncontrollable laughter, both in response to his brother's expression as well as the absolute seriousness with which you referred to your husband's sex appeal.

While the majority of the time you were Ash's sweet girl, his Goddess of Sunshine, that didn’t mean that you were weak, or that you couldn’t or wouldn't stand up and stand your ground when challenged. You were actually quite protective over those you loved and wouldn’t hesitate to defend them in any way you deemed necessary. Though this was a very mild example of this trait, the point still stood; His girl wouldn’t stand for anyone disrespecting the man she loved, especially on their own territory. It was something that always filled him with warmth and pride to witness, and just another of the many things he absolutely adored about his wife.

Ash’s arms squeezed your waist in a comforting gesture, hands lightly skimming up and down your sides soothingly. “It’s okay, Baby Girl, the man hasn’t seen my work before. The skepticism, while a bit irritating, is expected.”

Dean shrugged, sitting himself down on a bar stool, “Well, alright then. This stuff’s a year’s worth of our Dad’s work.”, he placed one of his palms atop the folder, smirking as he slid it toward Ash, “So, uh, let’s see what you make of it.”

Ash opened the folder and pulled out the contents. His chin rested comfortably in the junction between your shoulder and neck, eyes quickly scanning over the pages as he leafed through the documents. He shook his head, confounded, before pulling his gaze back to focus on the Winchesters.

“C’mon, this crap ain’t real. Ain’t nobody can track a demon like this.”, Ash said, not quite believing what he was looking at.

The brothers shared a knowing look, before Sam turned back towards Ash and simply said, “Our Dad could.”

Ash’s eyebrows rose a bit before furrowing slightly, his hands returning to leaf through the papers in front of him with renewed interest, “These are non parametric statistical overviews. Cross-spectrum correlations. Jeez, I mean… damn. They’re signs, omens. If you can track them, you can track the demon. You know, like crop failures, electrical storms.”, He glanced up and said, “You ever been struck by lightning? It ain’t fun.”

His voice was practically a growl by the end of his monologue and you couldn't help the way heat began to pool between your legs, core clenching around nothing. You shifted a bit in his lap, just barely grinding against his thigh before settling again. Ash was still focused on the information before him, though his head did turn slightly to press a brief kiss to your neck while one of his hands absentmindedly drifted down your body to rest on your inner thigh, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

“Can you track it or not?”, Sam asked impatiently.

Ash cleared his throat, “Yeah, with this, I think so. But it’s gonna take time. Uh, gimme…”, he paused, taking a moment to calculate, “51 hours.”, he decided, eyes meeting Sam and Dean’s head on.

Sam and Dean shared another communicative look while you carefully gathered the papers and slipped them back into their folder. Once all were back in order you rose from Ash’s lap to allow him to stand as well, his arm immediately returning to once again wrap around your waist after taking to his feet. Meeting seemingly adjourned, the two of you began striding towards the back room that you called home.

“Hey, man,”, Dean sounded from the bar, causing Ash and yourself to pause and turn back towards the elder Winchester, “By the way, I, uh, dig the haircut.”

Ash practically puffed out his chest with pride as he hammed, “All business up front, party in the back!”, you can’t help but giggle as he flourishes the long ends of his hair dramatically.

As the two of you turned to continue on your path towards your room, Ash leaned down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he practically growled, “Don’t worry, Baby Girl, I haven’t forgotten about you. Gonna spend at least 23 of those 51 hours makin' you come apart underneath o' me.”

A shiver ran up your body, shots of arousal pooling low in your core at the implication. Ash really was the sexiest mullet rocker/genius, and you were so proud to get to call him your husband.

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#ash x reader #supernatural ash x reader #ash x plus size reader #supernatural fic #supernatural x plus size reader #supernatural reader insert #reader insert #reader insert fic #plus size reader #plus size reader fic

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curseofaphrodite · 3 years

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I hope you don't mind my novel-like asks 😂 Because here's another one.

Well let's sit on the floor and let them be on your lap, and they can leave if they want to. Penny stays for as long as you have something for him, Kid is frozen for a bit and then leaves and Laku almost immediately leaves 😂

And yeah, there were a lot of those... things... and my friend was like "oh that can't be right, they probably just use the smut term wrong or they exaggerate to get more readers" and we looked through one fic and one sentence has been burned onto my retinas forever... let's just say that as a simplified version, it said that "his long fingers rub all the right places" 🤮

But ngl, I've read some of the (neatly written) non-smut Pennywise x readers to mess with Marika and I thought about writing a Marika x Pennywise fic for her birthday next month (don't worry, without smut 😂). But yeah I laughed at the mental image of waking up and seeing Pennywise smiling next to you non-evilly and then you'd lean over to kiss him softly and be like "good morning honey, slept well?" and then go make him a cup of coffee 😂😂 (A lot of non-smut fics are like that and like??? HE DOESN'T EVEN LOOK LIKE BILL AND LITERALLY EATS PEOPLE AND IS JUST THIS EVIL ENTITY, NOT EVEN "JUST" SOME PSYCHO, WHY WOULD YOU BE ATTRACTED TO HIM)

Haha yeah my friends have visited my blog reading fics since I started, at least one of them has said that she visits this almost daily. We were in the same story writing community once upon a time (around 2015-2016) and I guess they still want to keep up with my writing.

Aww yayyy I get to move to Ketterdam! I'm gonna pack up real quick, though I'll spend Christmas with my mom first but I'll leave after that. And omg Nina would give so much love for them, cuddling them every day and we'd just sit inside their enclosure and let them climb over us and joke and she'd tease me for my feelings for Kaz and aaagh...

And yeah I mean... he was SO MUCH DIFFERENT in 2013-2014 when I was crushing on him?? He had selective mutism (meaning he can't bring himself to talk to anyone else than who he thoroughly trusts, which usually means only family) and after a few months of us being friends, HE STARTED TO TALK TO ME?? (Or whisper things to my ear but yeah) Omg I was walking on clouds when he did that. And then he confessed that he has a crush on me too, and then he mainly whispered stuff that wasn't actually necessary, like "you're so pretty", "I like your shirt" and when I had just gotten a haircut "your hair is so cute"... and once he whispered that he wants to hold my hand and kiss me but is too shy to do it in front of other people and I felt like bursting.

Also we had these really cute park "dates" during school days (he bought me ice cream as a surprise a few times 😭😭), he waited for my train to arrive to the school's station (he always came to the station before my train because he wanted to be there when my train came) and RAN to me to hug me when I came out, he constantly looked for excuses to spend time with me, always wanted to sit opposite of me when we were at the school diner, he wanted to walk with me back to the class when we ate and I always waited for him to finish if I had eaten because once I left without him and purposefully was really slow with eating and that resulted in him basically throwing his plates and utensils like a frisbee to the returnal rack before RUNNING UP to me with the biggest smile I had ever seen, and once when train operators were on a strike for a day, he sent me a message on Facebook at like 10pm which just read "My dad drove me to school, but I missed you at lunch ☹ I hope to see you tomorrow, good night ❤" and we just had these looks and smiles we sent to each other, and after we graduated, I got to know that THE WHOLE SCHOOL had shipped us and my teacher purposefully paired us for assignments a few (underestimated) times more often for it to be a coincidence, and even the cleaner had seen the chemistry and had asked my classmate that "when do those two lovesick fools get together" and god, thinking about those times still makes my heart thump faster, he used to be the sweetest boy I had ever met.

He stopped (vocally) talking to me in February 2014 and afterward when I think about the reason why, it seemed like he started crushing on our class assistant because suddenly she could talk to him on phone while he stopped talking to me. Well, we still talked super frequently on Facebook, though he stopped using hearts and our messages were more friendly than flirty/romantic, like "what did you do today, ooh, sounds fun 😊 I hope you had a great time" etc, until he started ghosting on me but yeah, I looked around my messages with him and around September 2014 he had started to talk more like that, but now it's the whole next level 😅 It feels like he's too lazy to form complete sentences and just expects me to understand his gibberish?? For example, he asked when "my days will end" and meant that when does my workday end and if I can come see him that day. For a moment I thought he's asking that when do I die tbh.

Hahaha yeah 😂 Here's one of my messages btw, he asked about how Ketterdam is:

Ketterdam is a rather rainy and gloomy city where the sun doesn't shine much but it has a lot of interesting history. Some of the streets in the city still look like they were straight from the Middle Ages and it was really nice to wander around last time.

Then he was like (I think, because I translated this from part-gibberish) "oh, so you have already visited Ketterdam? When did you visit and how long did you stay there?" (If I freely translated the actual question without modifying it, it would be "Ketterdam? When? Year, month. Visit, long?")

Yeah I've been there a couple of times. For the first time in June 2016, for the second time I went on a surprise visit in October 2018. I stayed there over the summer in 2016, in 2018 I stayed for a little over a month and got back for Christmas.

And when he asked about how long will it be when I retire and move back to Finland:

Kaz hasn't talked much about our retirement, but he said that since he has been doing that job since he was a teenager and it has profited well for at least a decade, we might be able to retire early. I'm the first person he has really been attached to since childhood so if we stay together, we're maybe retiring in our forties or even earlier if we'll get a lot of successful jobs, since we might have enough money to live normally for the rest of our lives at that point. We might move to Finland then, who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️ Ketterdam isn't the safest place to live in if you don't have the kind of reputation Kaz has and Kaz liked Finland the last time he was here, at least nobody is coming too close 😂

(Finland is known for people who don't like strangers invading their personal space, there was a lot of covid memes when this situation started that if covid ever came to Finland, we don't have to change anything in our daily lives since we already stand at least 5 meters apart instead of the required 2 meters)

Back to the piggies:

Yeah, I mean the only thing he didn't even touch has been coconut so far, everything else goes. So I think he'd eat your cookie and then eat the rest of your unattended cookies if you turned away from them for just a second 😂

Btw, a side note: all my guinea pigs have eaten treats from this certain trademark from the very start of me owning them (I mean from when I got my first piggies in 2003) and tbh I thought to look at the trademark name a few months ago and laughed my head off at 2am.

(I gave Penny one of those right after taking the pic, don't worry)

i dont mind your long asks at all, its so nice to talk with youuu (+ i love your guinea pigs, dont mind me fangirling over them)

Penny is so cute that way. He gives off major "pls lemme be your friend!" vibes! i feel like if kaz adopts all of you, penny would be the one who'd follow kaz around where he goes, etc 🥰

and PLS I LAUGHED! Yes, imagine going on dates with pennywise like a normal couple like,, nooo. anyone can like any fictional character, and why would they choose pennywise 🥲🥲 haha marika sounds fun too. and ofc your friends want to keep up with your writing, its spectacular <3

AND IKR! looking back on crushes I often wonder "wow either i was completely oblivious to the red flags or they changed a LOT" (most of the times, it's the former with me)

I love how the school shipped you though, I can definitely see it. He was so sweet back thennn. It's not fair at all how he just started ghosting you out of the blue. It's really rude and ugh, if i was a lawyer, ill sue him for you.

hehe, love the answers you gave him. (and omg he really asked "Ketterdam? When? Year, month. Visit, long?" ? that's so funny i-) and i love how each of the answer wasn't just detailed but ACCURATE!

LIKE YES he can't even find any plotholes or be suspicious because you covered everything from Kaz's life in five to six sentences.

and guess what, im not really a fan of cookies so penny can have all the cookies he wants 💗🍪🍪🍪

#🏷️ : lovely people #jenni the brilliant 🦢#tea with mutuals

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bbq-hawks-wings · 4 years

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I read your tags— please talk about your OC, I'm curious :D

So! Tell me about " the oc of yours!" - @mintgreencase

You all are so sweet! Thank you! I can finally word vomit out her wiki-styled bio!

There's a lot but also some content warnings for neglect, physical assault, depression, and smoking below the cut.

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

PERSONAL DESCRIPTION

BIRTHDAY

February 12

AGE

22 (Current)

GENDER

Female

HEIGHT

159 cm (5'3")

HAIR COLOR

Champagne Pink - Dark Purple

EYE COLOR

Pale grey

BLOOD TYPE

QUIRK

Cephalopod

STATUS

Alive

BIRTHPLACE

Fukuoka

FAMILY

Adopted father (alive)

Mother (alive)

Half-sister [27] (alive)

Half-brother [18] (alive)

Half-brother [16] (alive)

Father (alive)

Keigo Takami - Husband (alive)

OCCUPATION

Business consultant

Part-time model

Pop Idol (former)

AFFILIATION

Civilian

Summary

Tamakado was born out of an extramarital affair between an unknown man and her mother who was discontent with her marriage to an overbearing, insecure, and quietly misogynistic husband. Once she discovered she was pregnant, her mother broke all contact with Tamakado's birth father and attempted to pass the baby off as her husband's. He was already suspicious before the baby was born, but the truth became obvious when her subtle heteromorph quirk and appearance were unexplainably different from her mother's innocuous quirk while her husband was quirkless. The issue was never discussed, and her parents remained emotionally disconnected from her for the rest of her upbringing, choosing instead to shower their other children in attention - particularly the first son they had after her.

She was named Tamakado, spelled only with the kanji 圭 which alone can be read as "Tama" as in a round gem or "Kado" as in a sharp corner or rough edge. She was only referred to as "Kado" by her family.

She spent most of her childhood hiding her presence and avoiding making an impact in attempts to earn her parents affection. In her second year of middle school a classmate told her she was quite pretty behind her unflattering haircut and ill-fitting hand-me-downs and wondered why she didn't focus on her appearance more. When Tamakado brought it up in hopes of pleasing her parents, her father in a tired, drunken frustration effectively told her that the only thing she and her beauty was good for was seducing and ruining men the way her birth father had done to her mother and that drawing attention to herself would continue to bring disgrace on him and their family.

Though it was initially crushing to hear, she remembered the word "mermaid" in her classmate's description and discovered the myth of mermaids who lured men to their doom to steal their jewels or eat the flesh off their bones. She decided that if the only thing she was good for was ruining others, she might as well do it on her own terms. Over her last year of middle school she began reaching out and forging connections as well as began to learn how to utilize her appearance and charisma to garner popularity; and using her sister's high school graduation and younger brother's upcoming middle school graduation as cover, she also studied hard and got accepted on a scholarship into a high school known for being connected in the entertainment industry and producing several noteworthy young stars without her parents' knowledge.

Her first year was fairly innocuous as she learned about the social dynamics and groups of the school and made connections through mutually beneficial favors, even reclaiming the nickname "Kado" as a personal brand. In her second year, she and two of her heteromorph friends created an amateur pop idol band using a motif of "cute, man-eating monster" as its selling gimmick with an emphasis on fleshing out each girl's character independently should they choose to branch off individually or add more members - of which hers was the gorgeous, "liberated," man-slaying mermaid that had originally inspired her. By the start of their third year, they were slowly getting attention and a small, dedicated following.

Tamakado had made a mistake in her naivety, though, and underestimated the cutthroat nature of the industry and, by extension, the school. In the middle of her third year of high school she was lured alone into a meeting with a rival classmate under the pretense of setting up a business favor for her band mate. She was physically assaulted and had revealing, incriminating photos of her taken for blackmail. When she attempted to defend herself to the school authorities, the school sided with her well-connected classmate, citing her blunt and "lascivious" persona as likely having caused it and offered to "help" her under NDA and contract.

Without a support network at home to limp back to, being shut out of the only industry she had connections in, not wanting to drag her friends into her problem, and without any negotiating power - she signed a celebrity marriage agreement that detailed how she was to conduct herself, when and how this relationship would be revealed to the public, when and how many children they would have, and that she basically existed to boost his image in exchange for a comfortable life. It shouldn't have been a legal or enforceable contract by any means, but she was in no position to refuse or fight back.

She didn't even know who she would be married to until she met him face to face after signing her contract alone, and even then she initially only got the name "Hawks" - an up and coming 18 year old soaring up the hero charts and on his way to being one of the best heroes Japan had ever seen.

Over the first few months of the relationship, despite not consummating the marriage and attempting to give her her own space in his home and her life on Hawks' part, she rapidly deteriorated until he worried she might actually die in her room from self-neglect. He offered to expedite a passport to allow her to escape as much as possible under the guise of "higher education" in lieu of a more permanent solution to her problem, and she spent the next several years bouncing back and forth between America and Japan before permanently returning, determined to make the best of the hand she was dealt, including finding her old friends, reclaiming and transforming her personal brand and image, and attempting to at least be friends with the man she was slated to spend the rest of her life with.

Appearance

Tamakado is a short, hourglass-figured, freckled woman with fair skin, pale grey eyes, and pinkish purple hair. She doesn't typically wear makeup, and tends to prefer a toned-down, natural fashion style.

Her Cephalopod quirk gives her several attributes of many squid, cuttlefish, and octopuses including chromatophores that can change the pigment of her skin and hair, increased flexibility and fine muscle control, and mild venom in her saliva. Her hair has the ability to curl and relax at will - from perfectly straight to tight coils. When relaxed her hair is pale champagne pink, and when constricted it's a dark purple. While she can voluntarily control this, her overall mood and level of stress can subconsciously effect it. Her chromatiphores glow under blacklight, and she blushes a soft purple instead of pink.

Personality

Tamakado takes the "kado" (rough in manner) impression and runs with it, attempting to appear confidently brash, intimidating, and abrasive to those who stand opposed to her. Among friends, this persona lifts a bit to show a much more vulnerable and unsure person who is constantly second-guessing herself. She struggles with explicit declarations of affection and speaking plainly about her own feelings. Doing this with extra attention and eyes on her is especially difficult.

Her history has given her a soft spot for underdogs and tries to use her abilities and resources to offer them a chance to earn notoriety and respect - in which she is firm but fair. She believes in leveraging connections and rewarding good performance. She doesn't like being idle and prefers to have a problem to solve or a goal to work towards whenever possible. She's shrewd and pays attention to small details like word choice and past conversation when interacting with others.

Trivia

Her favorite food is shellfish.

Because her hair has more connective tissue to allow it to curl and relax at will, her scalp is extremely sensitive and she hates getting haircuts which means she keeps her hair long even though she'd prefer the maintenance of shorter hair.

She also won't tie her hair back in any way unless it's loose, otherwise she gets a massive headache.

She has a bad smoking habit she picked up after high school and has been trying to quit for years.

She speaks English moderately well thanks to her visits to America but swears fluently.

#my oc #tamakado #she speaks

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mikenewtonhateblog · 4 years

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My oc’s aka too long of a gd post

The “BL” Crew (does not stand for boys love I’m just a moron who made that abbreviation before knowing what it stands for). My main crew and main series, a lot is a big WIP right now as I’m slowly redoing the first book and all the lore. Why? I love torture. Book is fantasy type but I won’t specify what.

Lacie, the protagonist. God tier idiot, bisexual bipolar depressed MESS, insomniac, former theater kid, doesn’t know what she wants out of life but currently it is not This(plot of book). Hot headed, impulsive, crude, rude, Mommy IssuesTM, would rather be taking a nap right now, rules are made to be broken, absolutely fucking FERAL, more bags under her eyes than the airport lost and found. 5’5, 130lbs, Aries, age 18, white as shit like literally the whitest human you have ever seen, strawberry blonde hair in a 2011 Hayley Willaims haircut with long bangs, the darkest brown eyes you’ve ever seen that stare directly into your soul. Lanky, no curves, body of a 12 year old boy but works out so she can and will kick your ass and thats a threat. Not human?

Josh. Soft boy, smart, Lacie’s cousin and only friend for like the first 18 years of her life, autistic anxious mess who’s special interest is anchient egyptian history, is in honors classes, despises math, passes out when his girlfriend looks too cute, just needs a hug. Can eat a whole carton of easy mac if left alone, whole wardobe is the same outfit just different colors/hoodies, sensory issues, seriously can someone give this guy a hug. 5’9, 150lbs, Pisces, age 18, mixed (half whatever flavor of white Lacie’s family is [they don’t even know its just some scandanavian shit and irish], and half mexican on his mom’s side), medium olive skin with freckles and moles, dark chocolate brown hair that’s a bit of a 2009 Beiber cut, warm brown eyes, not beefy, a lil thicc and self concious about it but squishy boys are GOOD. Gets bit by a werewolf so now he is one his mood on it is “thats a lot to unpack but let’s just throw the whole suitcase away”.

Zander. There is not one braincell in this man, himbo KING, pansexual dumbass with undiagnosed ADHD, no impulse control, head empty and full at the same time, PTSD, his fashion sense should be an actual crime, gets in fights to feel something, basic requirements for him to be attracted to you: kick his ass. Drinks his respect women juice, sees a folding table and must immediately launch himself on it, chaotic, cannot drive a car and will not, food aggression and eats enough for 3 people but never gains weight which is ILLEGAL, him and Lacie may be a couple.....but in this house we stan slow burn, he talks in caps and every sentence either ends with a question mark or exclaimation point, likes romcoms. 6’2, 190lbs, Sagittarius, age 19, austrailian roots and has the accent but is from [REDACTED FOR STORY REASONS], white, dorito shaped with long legs, blueish black hair that’s long and messy, dark navy eyes that match his hair, bigass neck scar from [REDACTED]. Not human

Peter. Gay dad friend who is TIRED of having to be in charge of a bunch of teenagers, only one with full functioning braincells, lowkey a genius who loves engineering, mixes magical technology with human technology because he likes to play god, is he ever sober? No one knows, will kill for a bottle of single malt, his fashion sense? Tastefully expensive suits perfectly tailored. Likes building his own weapons that no one else knows how to even use, generally non-threatening but can get scary if needed. 6’4, 140lbs string bean man, Scorpio, age 179 but looks early 30s, I know I said Lacie is the whitest human but he’s even paler like a literal sheet of paper with scandanavian roots/ancestors were vikings or some shit, blonde hair styled like 2013 Brendon Urie lmfao, light crystal blue eyes. He’s a vampire and was born one.

Danielle. Tiny, sweet, queen of girls supporting girls, comments on all her friends instagram posts with 20 emojis, LOVES fashion and has a wardrobe that would make anyone jealous, oozes feminine energy, only child and parents are in love still, gets exactly 8 hours of sleep each night and wakes up looking like a disney princess. Just because she is small and cute doesn’t mean you should underestimate her she WILL fuck your shit up. Quiet when angey which is terrifying. Josh is her bf and she loves him so much but also loves teashing the shit out of him. Legally cannot cuss, polite, used her high heels as a weapon once, speaks like 5 languages because studying them is her hobby, gardens, hugs everyone. 5’0, 110, Taurus, age 18, mixed (half french-american, half Korean-american), glowy skin always, PETITE frame aka the friend everyone can pick up when they hug, long past her waist curly brown hair, bright green eyes. She’s not fully human as she has fae blood in her and this gives her the ability to talk to and control plants. Flower crowns for everyone

Becca. Theater kid who would die to sing in Wicked and has the vocal range to do so, cannot wait to graduate and go to her dream college which she got into and a scholarship, closeted lesbian bc her whole giant family is extremely catholic and she feels like not dealing with it, “no boys allowed in bedroom” rule is her favorite joke, chill, middle child of 5 siblings and just wants some peace and quiet for ONCE. Her fashion sense is “I’m dropping subtle hints I’m gay but only to other gays”, has a black belt and took self defense classes. 5’6, 145lbs, Virgo, age 18, Latina (cuban and mexican mix), darker brown skin with light freckles over her nose, athletic build, eyebrows on POINT, bright caramel eyes, short light brown hair cut in a bob, has a tiny nose stud, always wears a blue friendship bracelet her gf made her. Human

Anika. Calling her a bitch/slut is a compliment, bisexual, a bit of a mean girl but she grows out of it give her time!!! Is always Too Much, the horny friend, favorite color is red so thats almost all of her outfits, loves to show off her body as much as she can because she’s hot and knows it and thrives in her own confidence. Her mom is literally like Regina George’s mom from Mean Girls but married a rich man 20 years older than her, Anika doesn’t know her bio dad but thats fine neither does her mom and her step dad is nice and does his best to be a dad. Becca’s gf, always hanging out at her home so Becca can get some quiet because Anika’s an only child and has a pool. 5’9, 135lbs, Gemini, age 18, white, long layered dark reddish brown hair, teal-blue eyes, swimmers body type (I normally do not mention bust size but she would want the internet to know she was blessed with big bahoogles so there you go), can sprint in heels. Half mermaid (boy was that a surprise considering her mom doesn’t know who her father is LOL)

Rex. Nb uses they/them he/him pronouns but honestly will respond to any, goth lite, only attracted to men and ace, can read minds so knows all your secrets, mischevious little shit, great friends with Zander and enjoys his dumbass thoughts and that he’s basically a human version of Jackass, wears too many rings, goth boots for kicking and fashion babey, always has the freshest memes and will not hesitate to roast in the group chat, hangs with the girls most of the time. Chaos god who loves making art, be gay do crime, skateboard and spraypaint. 5’8”, 165lbs, Leo, age 18, Native American, masculine frame, dark brown skin, blue eyes, firetruck red shoulder length hair that’s usually in a ponytail, knock-off gucci sunglasses just for judging their friends. Has magic in their blood so not entirely human and can cast spells and shit (don’t roast me its a wip and I’m doing my research)

Sam. Boho goddess, aromantic, makeup and nails are always instagram worthy, quiet and stoic type but losens up around close friends, Rex is her best friend, has some trauma and doesn’t want to talk about it, emotionally numbed out a bit and wants to purely vibe. Has seen some of the worst parts of humanity and wishes she hadn’t, finds no point in being bitter or resentful though because that won’t change anything, loves cats and once she moves out shes adopting one or three. Has wine aunt energy. 5’4, 200lbs PLUS SIZE QUEEN, Scorpio, age 18, Filipino (her parents are immigrants fun fact!), really olive skin sometimes has a grey/green tinge to it, dark brown almost black shoulder length hair, gold-hazel eyes. Sam’s the victim of a family curse that requires her to consume human hearts to survive, she can transform into a pretty scary looking being and uses this curse to hunt down pedoph*les, r*pists, murderers, and abusers. The less often she feeds the less human she looks, hence the constant grey/green tinge to her skin.

Andy. Baby of the group, must be protected at all costs, 100% didn’t sign up to be in a friendgroup of 90% monsters but highkey loves it, trans, bi, anxiety MAXED, just wants to draw comics and cosplay spiderman, has to babysit his two younger sisters a lot because his parents are....not great, and as a result now knows all the lines to Tangled and The Little Mermaid. Big nerd energy, has to draw on everything including homework, gets inspiration for comics from his friends, awkward and socially anxious, drinks way too much tea and will accidentally steal your pens. Fears include: crowds, thunder, tall angry men, tiny spaces. Just trying his best. 5’2, 100lbs BEANPOLE BOY, Leo, age 16, white (irish and scottish roots), freckles absolutely EVERYWHERE, orangey red hair thats in desperate need of a haircut, chocolate brown eyes, braces, chronic nail biter. Human and kinda wishes he wasn’t.

That’s it for now if you read all this bless u thank u here is my whole heart. Please no discourse, literally these are fictional people I’ll never publish the books they go to.

#no i am not looking for critiques on them #i get my critiques elsewhere lmao #my ocs

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toooldforfandom-liveblogs · 5 years

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RWBY V07E03 - Ace Operatives

I think this episode is going to be about two things: new outfits and a mission with the ace ops. I really want to find out how well RWBY is going to handle having 5 new characters around plus everyone else so let's do this!

Huh, I'd have thought they'd change their outfits before a mission since Ironwood wanted them to upgrade. Wouldn't it make sense to have the better equipment before going on a mission?

Interesting that Qrow is not on the list of Active Huntsmen (congrats everyone else, you're official huntsmen and huntresses now!) Oscar is also absent but I guess he's being held back because he's Ozpin.

How long of a timeskip was this?

Ooh, now it all makes sense. I was a bit confused about the timeline but mission briefing -> upgrades -> first shot of ships flying around fits more than what I was thinking.

Ooh, a promise for even more enhancements!

I don't remember anything too different about Jaune's new outfit that would make him look so forlorn. But I guess any kind of change makes him move further and further away from the Jaune that Pyrrha knew.

The closest Blake has ever been to making a :3 face.

Are they going to talk about Ruby's decision?

I can imagine Pietro holding his face wondering why Blake and Yang requested so many zippers.

It's interesting how Blake almost reads like a completely different character while with Weiss she's still just Weiss but cooler. The difference that a haircut makes.

Or maybe they changed her facial features a bit?

I'm feeling weirdly proud of Jaune having a proper landing strategy. More than the hair and the "complete" armor, I think that's the most noticeable sign of how much he has grown.

Qrow went from pirate to... fancy pirate.

This is the weirdest thing to geek about but I love that Weiss's aura meter is slightly lower than the rest. She used her summons!

I was going to write a bad joke about them being "totally straight and _just_ friends" but screw that, they are gay and cute and I love them.

Weiss is very blush-y this season but I can't tell if it's because of the cold or if it's just more noticeable because she's the one with the lightest skin.

So, which kingdom uses kilograms and which one uses pounds?

Ruby finally realizing that wearing a skirt in the frozen tundra probably isn't be the best of ideas.

Yay, they are addressing it.

I'm glad they are actually talking about it. Did they wait to be outside of Atlas on purpose or is it just a coincidence?

I still can't tell what the show is trying to say about Ozpin. "Honesty is always the best policy" would have worked during the first seasons but the Fall of Beacon changed things enough that being irresponsible with what and how you say things would be naive.

I just can't decide if the show is going to prove Ruby right and Ironwood will turn out to be hiding his worst tendencies from them or wrong, with Ironwood feeling betrayed and maybe causing him to go off the deep end.

Proving her right would redeem Ozpin. Proving her wrong would maybe cause Ozpin to reappear after finally realizing his way of doing things only made things worse.

The way the show is framing the situation, with Ruby clearly feeling uncomfortable, avoiding the question, Yang being worried about it (even though she has always been Ruby's unconditional support), the fact that Ruby is a "honest soul" and this goes against that, makes me think it's going towards the "Ruby is making a mistake" side but who knows. Maybe I'm underestimating the show by thinking there's only two clear choices and it'll do something unexpected and more realistic.

Interesting that Qrow's bad luck manifested in him instead of on Clover. Is Clover's semblance that good of a counter to Qrow's?

I always knew Ren wasn't to be trusted. Only someone evil would make Nora sad. Forget about Watts and Tyrian, I'd watch out for Ren in the future.

I think this the dumbest Jaune has ever been.

Her ears moved! Having someone with super hearing in your team seems like a great idea.

Oh. I thought she heard the Geist. Has she been here before in a White Fang mission?

Nope, not that. Was this explosion where Ilia's parents died?

The use of depth of field during a battle solves all my issues with the way they handle having too many fighters in the same shot. It's just blurry enough to hide the simpler animation the fighters in the background have but clear enough to know who's fighting.

So, what's the name of this ship?

Whenever there's someone "new" that's acting cool I wonder if they are just being set up as awesome to be defeated later on to show how powerful the enemy is. CFVY's introduction in Volume 2 and later defeat in V3 was almost 99% that so I'm hoping this is not a repeat.

I'd have thought that dividing her body to go past obstacles was clue enough for Ruby to maybe start thinking that "go fast" wasn't exactly what her semblance does.

I can't believe they relegated the best part of the episode to the background of a scene.

I commented before (maybe on the Discord?) that I thought Tyrian was trying to stir up the population of Mantle instead of specifically trying to sabotage Hill and I think this supports that idea. It's just the best way to make the population of Mantle feel threatened since it looks like Atlas is trying to silence the opposition by killing journalists and vocal "civilian" supporters, causing even more civil unrest.

It may even improve Hill's chances of winning the election as a response.

I think this was a necessary episode but I'm not a big fan of it. By now it's probably no secret that I can take or leave the fight scenes and the second half's focus in showing off the upgrades and how cool the Ace Ops are made my eyes glaze over a bit. It did have some strong character moments though!

And the outfits are finally here! The more I look at them, the more I like them. It may be just in my head but I feel the character themselves look slightly different too. Blake's head is slightly less... Blake-y (she always looked weird in screenshots in the past) for example. Weiss looks similar but her expressions are more animated. Maybe I'm just imagining things. But the outfits are great in movement and a straight up upgrade for everyone except for maaaybe Jaune's hair which I still can't get used to.

Jaune's growth being so clearly shown in his landing was great, and his armor finally looking "complete" makes it even more obvious that this is not the Jaune that cheated his way in to Beacon. Or rather, he still is but he is so much more.

Blake and Yang's moment was incredibly cute. LOL at anyone who still thinks that they are just totally platonic and straight friends who awkwardly flirt with each other. (I just remembered that a comment about a haircut was one of the biggest clues about what was really going on between two characters in another show I don't want to spoil by accident.)

Weiss is carrying around a lot of guilt which I'm sure will come up later in the season. But, as Marrow said, every human is complicit in the oppression of the faunus, and while Weiss was close to the one of the main direct sources, it's not like she could have solved anything on her own.

Aaand, that's the first half. The second half is mostly the fight which, while it wasn't very interesting for me, it was very well animated and it did do a great job showing not only how cool the Ace Ops are, but also their personality. Pretty notable considering it's a team of five in an episode with eight other characters running around with their own little moments.

Qrow's reaction to Clover is intriguing. There's no way to tell what he's really thinking, the emotions shown across his face are just subtle enough that they could support any theory. Does he resent Clover's "luck"?

In any case the fact that they are _so_ cool and friendly makes me suspect something bad is going to happen. Because nothing good lasts.

Most of the pieces in the OP have already appeared, the only one left is Robyn Hill. Is the fourth episode going to be her premiere? I can't wait. Until next time!

Note from the future: While reading this again before posting I realize it sounds maybe too negative. The dangers of liveblogging while tired instead of waiting a couple of days like I did with Gravity Falls. * sigh *

#rwby #rwby liveblog #rwby v7 #rwby v07e03

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jimlingss · 6 years

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Jungle Park [1]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 1.5 OR Chapter 2

➜ Words: 4.9k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

➜ Warnings: depiction of throwing up.

➜ Notes: oh shitttt, here’s finally Hoseok’s slice of life series. buckle up, folks. there’s an entire adventure waiting ahead.

Sometimes life can be so entirely mundane that you forget your surroundings. The routine falls into place, yesterday becoming today, tomorrow a reflection of all the other days until time blurs all together. Your body goes on autopilot, mind operating somewhere else as your skin and bones carry forth. And that’s how sometimes, you snap awake again and wonder: How the hell did I get here? Such a moment is now when you’re pulling up on the curb in front of a nightclub. You scramble out the door before walking over to the two people standing in the street and greeting them. One girl is obviously wasted, mumbling incoherently and slumped over her more sober friend. The latter female grumbles in annoyance and thanks you when you help open the door, guiding her drunk friend inside. “Where are you off to this evening?” you ask while closing your door, hands gripping on the steering wheel. “Sixth street, please,” the sober one says in the backseat before she reaches over to her companion and tries to seat belt the girl in. But said girl only waves her off and instead leans over to where the front seat is. Her short blonde haircut brushes against her forehead, nearly pricking into her eyes that are blackened by smudged mascara. Her little black dress rides up unattractively and you realize her three inch high heels are held in her hands. Every word is slurred and spoken slowly. “Wher’ ar’ we go...i..ng?” “Home,” her friend answers. She appears a lot more put together than the other girl, sleek black hair behind her, deep blue dress complimenting her red lipstick. “Now can you please sit down so we can go, Choa?” “No! Don’t wanna!” But the intoxicated female gets buckled in anyhow, despite her little temper tantrum. You offer a sympathetic smile to her friend before nodding and merging onto the street again. “Drive to his house! I wanna give him a piece of my mind!” “No, you are not going to call him again. You won’t contact him. You most certainly will not go to his house. Come on! You’re better than this.” “No, I’m not! I’m weak and I love him, Yura!” Choa wails out in sobs and the other girl sighs in exhaustion. “And that fucking bastard took my heart and ripped it into shreds! He cheated on me, can you believe that?!” You realize she’s talking to you, so you nod, glancing in the rear-view mirror. “Sounds horrible…” “Yeah! He cheated with my fucking mother!” She laughs hysterically, on the verge of violent sobs. “He’s a motherfucker!” You raise your brows, finding it difficult to keep your eyes on the road when you’re brought to such speechlessness. “That’s...uh…that’s really unfortunate.” “He was supposed to marry me!” She’s screaming in both spite and sadness. “I even picked out a wedding dress! It was a Vera Wang! And I lost the receipt! What am I supposed to do with it now?!” She continues on her rant, spilling all her deepest darkest secrets to you, a stranger. “You know, I thought he was cheating on me with that bitch secretary of his. I know she tried to seduce him on a business trip once, but he told me he loved me and he wouldn’t want anyone else but me. And..and..and I trusted him! But lo and behold, I go back to my family’s house and what do I find?! He’s fucking sleeping with my mom! My mom! Out of all people!” You swallow hard, moving your hands on the steering wheel, taking a left down the avenue. You don’t know what to say or how to console the girl. It sounds absolutely horrible and you empathize deeply, especially when she’s grieving in your backseat and her cries are bloodcurdling like she lost a child. “I never liked him anyways,” Yura snaps. “You deserve better, Choa. Good riddance it’s over. He’s your ex now, so there’s no point in being hung up on him.” “But that doesn’t change the fact that I love him!” She’s yelling and crying, and you snap out of your trance, flinching from her deafening wail. You accelerate a little more to get to the destination faster. “I still LOVE HIM!” “You’re better off without him.” “You don’t understand!” Choa sobs without stopping and then she looks at you again, catching your attention in the rear-view mirror. “Haven’t you had an ex that you still love?” “Choa, leave the taxi lady alone. Sorry,” she says to you before turning towards her drunk friend. “She needs to concentrate on driving!” This is definitely the most interesting part of your job. Your little career is nothing impressive. It’s dull and you don’t make much. It’s barely enough to scrape by when you’re living in the city. After paying the lease of the cab, the fuel and maintenance, you only get to keep the fare and tips which leads to about three hundred a night. But at least you get to hear people’s stories, happy or sad. You get to see all sorts of different people and their backgrounds, see where they’re going, get a glimpse into their lives. It’s interesting to say the least. Your lips part, about to give the girl some advice. You want to tell her to talk to him and see if he’s serious about fixing things or see if it’s really over. She also needs some time to heal and think about things, see what she wants and what’s best for her. After all, she can’t move on with her life without some sort of closure. The first step is to sober up after tonight…. But you don’t get the chance to say these things, not when she suddenly leans over with a groan and the next words that comes from her mouth has a cold shiver running down your spine. “I think I’m going to be sick.” You whip yourself around, almost hurting your neck in the process. The thought of having to spend the rest of the night on your knees scrubbing polyester seats and cleaning after someone’s vomit makes your blood run to ice. “Is she going to throw up?!” The stoplight turns green and you’re forced to look back and drive, going over the speed limit by a bit. Yura taps her friends back and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Um...no, she won’t.” There are gagging sounds. The girl is retching at the back of her throat. And then it splashes. The bean burrito and vodka shots from earlier regurgitates from her mouth and plunks down in chunks, slapping all over the floor and the backseat. She hurls and heaves, spewing out endlessly. When she’s done, she burps and the putrid stench fills your small taxi all at once, making you want to vomit. “Sorry…” This is it. This is the last straw. You need another job.

“I can’t do this anymore!” The woman paces around, high heels clicking softly against the carpet as she storms around, arms crossed, trying to walk off her rage. She’s wrinkling her blazer and stretching her dress pants, but the man doesn’t make any comments. He’s too busy rubbing his temples with his thumbs behind the desk, leaning back in his swivel chair. The room is heavy with tension. “Sunyi, calm down.” “No! I won’t! Jimin, this is unacceptable!” She stops at his desk, hands pressing on the clean surface. “He can’t just take a case from me when I’ve been working on it for months! They were my clients!” “Then speak to Hoseok. I don’t understand why you’re telling me this.” “But he won’t listen. You are a partner of this firm. You are his partner. Can’t you talk to him about it? This isn’t the first time and I’m fed up. This is not what I signed up for.” Jimin sighs, not knowing what to say. His job is already full of mediation, he would rather get rammed by a school bus than deal with workplace conflicts on top of it. Sensing his hesitation, Sunyi stands straight and scoffs. “Can you afford to lose me? I know plenty of other places that would love a lawyer like me.” The threat is loud and clear and he stares back at her with narrowed eyes, not appreciating her tone of voice. “Jimin….talk to him.” “Fine.” A long exhale escapes his mouth and his body slumps. “I’ll see what I can do.” The female nods and opens the door, but she lingers for a second. “And can you please talk to Yoongi?” “What is it now?” “His attire is disgusting,” she spits. “He wears open-toed sandals around the office and doesn’t cut his toenails and the last thing I want to see before my lunch break is his dirty feet fungus.” She storms out of the office and Jimin stands up from his spot in exasperation, calling out to her, but no one hears his woes. “Sunyi, I’m a lawyer! I’m not supposed to be dealing with problems like this!” // It’s a relatively normal afternoon. People are tapping away at their keyboards, preoccupied with documents and files upon files. A few legal assistants are helping the others, running across the office floor, murmuring things. The photocopier whirrs to life, phones ringing once in a while. It’s the glorious sound of work. Jimin decides to go for another coffee cup and he times it perfectly to run into his best friend. “Hey, bud.” They stand in the kitchen at the counter, side-by-side, facing the white cabinets. “Everything going alright?” Jimin looks at him with a soft smile and crinkled eyes. Even when he’s a professional and dressed cleanly like one, his brunette hair and cute face makes him look like a kind boy-next-door. It’s not such a bad thing. If anything, it’s advantageous to have such a natural disguise, making opponents underestimate his abilities. On the contrary, his partner’s appearance is as frighteningly scary as his personality. He’s dressed sharply in a black blazer and dress pants, polished and neat. His black hair is styled well with a strand curled at his forehead, strong brows accentuating a sharp jawline. Jimin realizes why he’s the one who appears more approachable in the office. Hoseok is just way too intimidating. “Fine,” he responds curtly and picks up on what’s going on with his sharp perception. “What is it, Park?” “We need to talk, Hoseok.” He nods and looks over his shoulder, stirring his coffee mug before taking a sip. “Do you want to go into my office?” “No, we shouldn’t alarm the others,” he says and the other male will never understand why he’s so sensitive to such little things. There’s no one in the kitchen anyway. He doesn’t know why Jimin is speaking so quietly either. “But listen, I need you to do something for me and if you don’t, I’m going to lose my shit.” Hoseok lifts a brow. “What is it?” “Do you know what I’ve been doing these days? I’ve been doing the job of an HR representative. I’m dealing with issues in this office every single day, all the petty little problems and the stupid drama.” He scoffs and then laughs, having thought there was something more serious at hand. “That’s because you have no backbone. Do you see anyone coming to me with their issues?” “That’s exactly it,” Jimin emphasizes. “You are half of the problems around here.” “Really now…” Hoseok’s curiosity is piqued. “And who is having problems with me?” “No. We are not going to discipline them or scare them or use whatever tactic you’re thinking of right now. We need to address this the right way. There will be absolutely no intimidation tactics or sweeping under the rug or warnings. We need to keep the tropes happy, Hoseok. Everyone needs to function well for this office to function well.” He motions him to go on. “So…?” “We need to hire someone for HR.” Hoseok laughs. He throws his head back and gets a good chuckle. Then as he shakes his head, he takes his mug and begins walking down the hall towards both their offices. Jimin follows behind him with a growing scowl. “We’re going to open an HR department for fifteen people?” “This is a high conflict office and you know it,” Jimin reasons with him. “There are problems every other day here and I’m tired. I can’t focus on my real job. We need someone here to solve conflicts and to deal with all the issues that I don’t want to deal with.” “No.” Hoseok keeps it short and simple. “We aren’t going to do that. It’s unnecessary. Do you realize we would need to clear out another office and pay them? It’s an unnecessary expense in our budget. And not to mention, it’s ridiculous. Have you ever heard of a firm this size having an HR department?” “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve made myself clear. I’m not asking for your permission. I’m telling you.” The shorter man stops the taller one, both of them standing in the middle of the hallway and quietly bickering underneath their breaths. “Hoseok, what is the name of our firm?” “Not this again, Jimin. If you have something—” “Hoseok. Answer my question.” He rolls his eyes, tired of the other’s childish antics and getting flashbacks to days in university. Yet, Hoseok gives in with a long sigh. “Jung and Park.” “Exactly. We’re in a team. It’s me and you—” “Actually, that’s incorrect.” He gives a shit-eating grin, marring his cold exterior with a playful twinkle in his eyes. “It’s supposed to be you and I.” “Don’t be an ass.” Jimin pouts. “We’re hiring someone for HR. That’s final. It’s what we and everyone else here needs.” “Fine.” Hoseok gives in once more and nods his head. “Just hire someone.” “Oh my god!” Jimin suddenly shrieks and scares the living daylights out of his partner. “You don’t hear anything that comes out of my mouth, do you?! No wonder people have issues with you!” “What?” “Hiring is part of the HR job and I’m not doing that anymore!” He throws his hands up into the air. “You hire someone. I’m done!” “What?” Hoseok is still confused. “You want me to hire someone?” “Yes! Finally, the man hears!” Jimin laughs manically, causing Hoseok to ponder how many coffee cups he’s had. He ends up skipping away, happy that one out of the heaps of problems is solved for now. And Hoseok is left by himself, sighing. Who the hell is he supposed to hire?

You need a job. After you force yourself to sync your sleeping schedule back to the general public, sleeping at night instead of day as you’ve been doing for the past year, you go on a job hunt. First, you revamp your résumé. When you’re satisfied, you flip open the local newspaper until you realize this isn’t the nineteenth century and no one uses the newspaper anymore. It’s been a long time since you’ve had to search for a job. Needless to say, you’re a bit rusty. But you still hold a lot of hope as you scour online for job postings. You write down phone numbers, giving them calls to see if they’re still hiring, most of which apologize and tell you they already have someone. It’s difficult since the economy isn’t doing great, but you don’t give up. Every opportunity of work, you jump at the chance, calling or emailing, even printing out physical copies to go drop it off...that is until you run into a certain post… Human Resource Manager Jung and Park Full-time $40-60k Salary It’s right up your alley. It ticks off everything you want and everything that you can do. When you click on it, you get the specifics of the company, the details of the position, responsibilities and requirements. You qualify perfectly and even the location of the firm is only a mere subway ride away. The pay is decent, enough for you to live, and it’s unlike the taxi business where some nights you go home empty handed. There could not be a better opportunity. It’s miraculous, a chance that fell from the Heavens. But….you can’t do it. “Is there a reason why you want to work at McDonalds?” The shift manager looks at you expectantly, voice a bit on the quieter side, making it hard to hear. “Well, I’ve eaten at this franchise a lot.” You swallow hard, trying to hide your shaking hands and conceal the nervousness. “I think it would be really interesting to be on the other side of the counter.” “Hmm, that’s nice,” she replies sincerely and nods with a kind smile. At this point, you’re looking anywhere, any place where you can make some fast money before you search for a real career position. If you’re on a search forever, you won’t have money to pay the upcoming bills. Your savings will only do so much before they diminish into nothing. “Hello.” You look over the bakery case towards the manager who’s preoccupied with some cakes. “Hi, can I help you?” “Um, are you possibly hiring at the moment?” You hold the stack of résumé close to your chest, not yet giving up. “Unfortunately, no.” They give an apologetic expression. “We’re not looking for anyone.” You walk around stores on the street and in the malls, bakeries and coffee shops, clothing stores and fast food chains. It feels like when you were a teenager again, looking for a summer part-time job and coming up short every single time. All the interviews done in corporate offices never call you back or they take your résumé without even actually taking a glance at it. And maybe that’s a good thing. You have nothing impressive about yourself. You don’t deserve a fancy job in some high rise or at some luxurious establishment. You’re not cut out for that life. It’s plain and simple. They wouldn’t want you. “Can you handle a stressful environment?” “I’d like to say I can.” You hum before laughing. “I was a summer councilor back in the day and someone lit a cabin on fire once, so I think it’s suffice to say, I can handle myself during an intense environment.” The old woman across from you laughs heartily. You could feel it — this interview was going well. You might actually get the job and the excitement was making your eagerness double. “Last question,” she flips a page and then folds her hands on the table. The woman looks deep into your eyes and is quiet for a moment as if she is trying to truly see the person in front of her and not just a candidate for the job. “Don’t you think you’re overqualified for the position?” You frown. “Overqualified?” “I mean, your work experience is very versatile. Your educational background is fantastic. I am quite fond of your personality. You seem like a genuinely earnest and hard-working individual. But, why here?” Her eyes bore deep into yours. “This is an elementary school administration position. All you would be doing is answering phones all day.” “Well...I...uh….if this is about the salary, I’m completely fine with what you’ve offered. And I like stability. I don’t have plans of looking for something else,” you’re stuttering, not knowing how to answer. “I like working with different people and I like kids too. I..just think I would do well here.” She smiles softly, a very calming presence in the midst of your panic. “This isn’t about salary and I’m not questioning your loyalty. We’ve spent...what...an hour together? And I can tell you’re a kindhearted person, Y/N. I’ve lived to see enough people come and go. Heck, even before this interview, I had someone come in and the first thing they asked were about vacation days.” This woman knows nothing about you. At most, she might be your future employer, but sometimes you wonder how people can know you after spending mere moments together. Is your face really that easy to read? Are you just too open about yourself? But none of these questions matter when what she says hits you the hardest— “I think you should aim higher.” The posting still haunts you. Human Resource Manager Jung and Park And maybe that’s the reason why you haven’t been doing well in any interviews, except for a select few. Perhaps this is why no one has given you a call back despite your efforts to display your dedication. The posting follows you wherever you go, on the back of your mind, imprinted into your memory. Maybe this is what you really wanted from the start — not stupid jobs at fast food restaurants or running in the streets handing out your résumé or jobs that aren’t of interest. Human Resource Manager It’s a bad idea. It’s a really bad idea. But with one eye open, you go in for the kill.

In the heart of the metropolis are soaring towers, corporate offices and companies, business and enterprises that you have no reason to represent or work for. The firm is large and full of glass, from the giant windows to the glass of the conference room. But despite the modern design, it’s gray. The walls are painted in a gray shade, spaces left empty, cubicles tall and covering people’s faces. There are boxes of files and paperwork stacked up along the halls. It seems like a tense environment and you can hear people hard at work, typing on keys, flipping through papers, sighing every so often. You wonder if you look awkward and out of place. For the fifth time, you tug on your pencil skirt and smooth out your old blazer, afraid you look weird or tacky. Your grip on the briefcase tightens and you don’t even know why you brought the darn thing when there’s only a squished ham sandwich and more printed résumés inside. You’re sitting straight in your seat, staring at the receptionist and waiting. When she looks up from her computer, you divert your eyes to the firm’s name overtop her desk on the wall. Jung and Park. You can do this. All you have to do is keep it professional. The door to the left conference room finally opens, someone exiting and holding a file of folders. Your heart stops right in your chest. Your breath hitches. Something stirs inside of you. A tall man with dark hair, in a fitted suit, is standing right in front of you. His sun-kissed skin is glowing, high cheekbones, long nose, everything adding to his handsomeness. His mere presence commands your attention. Even when he’s frowning, there’s something about him that makes him so alive. Hoseok takes one mere glance at you before looking down at his papers. “Y/N?” You flinch when he calls your name and you stand up, swallowing down the thick lump in your throat, feet together, adjusting your skirt one last time. You can do this. “Yes?” “You’re here for the interview?” he asks without looking at you, taking a peek at his watch and phone. When you confirm, he nods and pockets his mobile device before gesturing towards the empty conference room. “Come in.” You’re shaking. Even when you’re trying your hardest not to tremble, hiding your hands in your lap, it’s useless. You can’t stop staring at him either. No matter what you do, you can’t tear your gaze away from his face. It’s too difficult. You want to be professional. You want this job. You don’t want to screw this entire thing up. But the things you want are things you could never have. “You have a degree in…” He searches the paper in front of him. “Human Resource Management Honours. Wow.” You mumble, “it’s just a commerce degree…” “No, it’s exactly what we’re looking for.” Hoseok, on the other hand, has no problems with keeping it professional. He doesn’t notice your staring eyes either. If anything, he only casted cold glances and seems to be disinterested in the whole ordeal. “Do you have any previous HR experiences?” “Yes. I worked as an HR representative for about a year before the small company shut down.” The lawyer hums and studies your résumé like your entire existence can be summed up with words printed on the lines. “And your previous job?” “I was an executive dispatch member for cab services.” It’s a slight lie, a truth exaggerated. It doesn’t sound impressive to say you drove a taxi around in your late twenties and your early thirties. “And you quit because?” “Differences in professional goals.” More like you spent three hours cleaning up after some drunk girl’s vomit and had enough. “How did you hear about this position?” “I saw a posting online.” “Right.” It seems like he’s going down a checklist, firing question after question at you. The man never once looks at your face. He treats you rather coldly and you feel like your chances are slim. It’s just a feeling inside that tells you won’t get the job — which is understandable. “Why do you think we should hire you?” “I...I have a good educational background. I’ve worked in many different areas, so my work experience is very versatile. I’m really hardworking as well.” You mentally thank the older lady from a few days ago who gave you ideas on what to say. “I’ve worked with a lot of different kinds of people before and I enjoy it. I think I would be a valuable asset to your team.” Yet, Hoseok appears unfazed at your answer, as if he’s heard similar things from other applicants. “What do you consider to be your weakness?” “I…” You’re having a hard time, palms sweaty, mouth dry. “...I think I have a pattern of underestimating myself. I’m a bit dependent on others too, but I’ve been working to improve myself on that…” The man across the conference table scribbles something down on his paper, like he doesn’t enjoy the fact you have trouble being independent. “Then what are your strengths?” “I’m dedicated and hardworking. When I do things, I have to do them right or I won’t be satisfied.” You clear your throat, getting a grip on yourself, reeling from your whiplash of being in his presence. “I’m resilient. I can get back up when I’ve been knocked down. I can survive and make it past hard times…” “That’s good.” There’s a ghost of a smile gracing his features, warming his cold expression, and you’re trapped in a trance. But it’s interrupted when he suddenly moves back, closing the file. You’re surprised at how it’s over so quickly. “Well alright. I’ll give you a call then. Thank you for coming by, Miss Y/N.” He stands and you follow after a delayed second, but before he opens the door, you interrupt— “Um...I..” “Oh sorry.” He turns. “Did you have a question for me?” “Hoseok, I….I really want to work here.” Your fists are clenched tight, your head is downcasted and you’re sure you look like a desperate mess begging for this job, but you have to take the leap. If you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. “I understand if you won’t hire me, but will you at least take me into serious consideration?” “I’m sorry?” There’s a pause. You look up at his confused expression and you frown, stumbling over your words. Hoseok finds the way you speak to him odd, as if you’re perfectly familiar with him. He interjects with his own question, “Do we know each other?” “What?” “I’m sorry. I got into a car accident about seven years ago. There are some things I can’t remember anymore.” He offers a small smile and you’re caught off guard. It came out of nowhere, so sudden, but he says it nonchalantly like it doesn’t affect him at all. Your frown deepens to the point where it hurts and you blink. You’ve been stunned to silence. His brows are raised and he dips himself down, searching your face and he repeats himself in honest curiosity, “Did we possibly know each other?” “Not really,” you answer. “We were acquaintances back in university, like twelve years ago. I thought you would remember me, that’s all.” “I’m sorry.” His brows furrow. “I can’t seem to recall…” “No, it’s alright.” You nod, returning his smile. “I’m sorry to have to make you talk about your accident.” “No, I don’t mind.” Hoseok looks down at your application in his hand. Y/N. Your name brings no significance back into his mind, but he’ll make sure to remember from now on. “Well, if there isn’t anything else...” “O-oh yeah, umm, okay.” You bow your head slightly as he opens the door. “Thank you for the interview.” Hoseok lifts his arm with an open hand. You stare down at it for a second before clasping your palm with his, shaking his hand. The corner of his mouth lifts and he nods. “It’s not a problem.” The both of you end up walking your separate ways. The man returns to his office with a stack of files in his arms. And you can’t help but turn around to stare at his broad backside becoming smaller in the distance. Well...either way, the two of you were strangers from the start. You’ve always been strangers to each other. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t remember.

#BTS fanfic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fluff #hoseok #jhope fanfic #HOSEOK AS A HOT SHOT LAWYER WHO THINKS HE'S THE SHIT #OC WHO JUST NEEDS A FUCKING JOB TO LIVE ( ꒪Д꒪)ノ #i promise you this will not be cliché

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leedonly-blog · 5 years

Text

oneus members as your classmate [imagine]

kim youngjo (ravn)

good guy - follows school's rules: wears id and proper uniform everyday, has proper haircut. he does not ditch classes.

fashionista - he has jaw-dropping fashion sense.

leader - always nominates himself as a responsible leader.

how did your relationship unfold?

he assigned you as his assistant leader because he trusts you more than he trusts people.

you admire not just his perfect looks but his good attitude as well. he's a warm guy who accepts opinions and confessions without getting upset.

he protects you like a knight-and-shining armor. your relationship with each other seems vague. although you confessed to him, he's still treating you as his reliable friend.

　　　　　　　　༄ +₊

lee gunmin / lee seoho

sunshine - source of happiness inside your classroom comes from him. he just smiles and cheering up his classmates whenever they are feeling down.

prankster - despite his positive vibes. he's naughty and likes to joke around.

extrovert - defines himself as social butterfly.

how did your relationship unfold?

he tried to befriend you by the time you laughed at his corny jokes.

you started to feel uncomfortable being with him as his pranking continues in an offending manner.

he felt sorry to his mistakes and he promised that he will never prank anyone. the next thing you knew, you've fallen in love with him but unfortunately, seoho was unaware of that.

　　　　　　　　༄ +₊

kim geonhak (leedo)

popular (1/2) - his visuals made almost all of the girls swoon over him. his popularity is no joke

shy - does embarassing things and ending up loathing them. he barely talks to strangers oof.

strong man - broad shoulders, stunning body build, biceps and big hands that captivated all humans

how did your relationship unfold?

a fangirl asked you to deliver valentine gifts for him (since you two are classmates) in exchange of free foods for lunch. however, leedo rejected all of them and told the fangirl to stop bothering him. he wanted to make you his.

you refused him many times because realizing that he's popular with almost-perfect visuals kill your braincells one by one. he blackmailed you about your cheating incident while taking up the quiz in physics. "if you refuse one more time. i'm going to spread out your horrible secrets," leedo treathened.

you decided to keep distances away and not talking to him. in your perspective, it was the only way to live peacefully.

as the time goes by, you accepted his offer being his officially fake girlfriend.

　　　　　　　　༄ +₊

lee keonhee

meme material (1/2) - he is always targeted by evil photographers/classmates who are making fun of his meme faces

food addict - wants to buy the whole canteen itself

extra - he likes to joke around (ft. seoho)

how did your relationship unfold?

because you pity him, you're protecting him from those malicious students who destroy his reputation inside the school.

he confessed to you one day, thankful of what you've done to him.

you're already aware of his feelings as he started to court you with effort and patience.

　　　　　　　　༄ +₊

yeo hwanwoong

smol - never underestimate him being short because this shortie is a cutie

meme (2/2) - sort of look like a sloth. he and keonhee are living soulmates.

dancer - he joined a lot of dance contests out there with his sharp and powerful moves

how did your relationship unfold?

you really want to dance but you just couldn't. hwanwoong noticed you were struggling so he taught you some basic dance moves.

hwanwoong was slowly getting closer to you but you were slowly staying away either because your girl bestfriend likes him. you promised that you'll help her no matter what happens.

you realized that hiding your feelings towards hwanwoong hurts you more when your bestfriend makes a move. until she finally recognized your feelings. she even called you a "traitor" ; admitted that she just used you to get him.

hwanwoong became anxious for not telling you what he truly felt towards you. he comforted you by hugging you tightly and whispering sweet nothings

　　　　　　　　༄ +₊

son dongju (xion)

cutie-patootie - acting cute everytime, everywhere. no one can resist his cuteness.

popular (2/2) - girls in your classroom (also in the campus) can't help but to stalk him like crazy

nerdy + rude - loves to carry out books. he is sometimes rude to your classmates, including you.

how did your relationship unfold?

xion isn't that type of guy you actually want to go out with. he annoys you day by day even though you're not even doing any bad things to him. he often switch moods from cutie-patootie to savage guy who wants to stab you directly using a sharp knife.

xion doesn't like being a center of attention, but he likes getting your attention though.

you hated him since first day of school. you are honestly ready to do everything against him: punching his whole body hard, slapping his face hard, kicking his butt hard but how about falling in love? you never thought that a cutie-savage guy would leave a big impact in your life.

　　　　　　　　༄ +₊

note:

i'm sorry for any typo and grammatical errors. i'll edit them soon.

this is my first time doing imagines hell yeah bc i'm bored lolol

remember that each member has an individual (?) route. all imagines of the members are not occurring at the same time.

i hope you enjoy reading! dedicated to my co-moonies/to moons ♡

#oneus #oneus imagines #oneus x you #oneus as your classmate #ravn #seoho #leedo #keonhee #hwanwoong #xion #kpop #kpop imagines #multiple routes

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 5 years

Text

Mutilated Mannequin (Part 18)

Breakfast is strangely quiet and Azula can’t place why until Ozai clears his throat. “I called Dr. Guhira. He said that he can do some revision surgery.”

Azula laughs, a few tears threatening to spill over. “Are you serious?” She pauses. “You want me to get more surgery?”

He clears his throat again. “I thought that you might…”

“No. No more. My face is already damaged enough.” Her voice hitches.

Ozai opens his mouth but Ursa’s voice fills the quiet. “What’s going on here?”

Her farther cringes.

“He’s being insensitive again, isn’t he?”

He casts her a pleading stare but she can only work to swallow down her tears.

Her expression only seems to kindle her mother’s temper further. “You and Zuko won’t have to worry about that soon.” She slaps a stack of court documents onto the table.

Something about it makes Azula’s stomach lurch.

“Azula, I’m trying to…I’m trying to fix this.”

“Then stop telling me to get surgery.”

“It’s different than…”

“I have to get to class.” She mutters as she picks up her bag and heads for the door. She doesn’t know what she looks less forward to, a run in with Jet during gym class or the tense conversation that she is about to have with Chan.

She makes her way to his locker and loiters there, running thorough her script until she sees him sauntering up. He runs his finger though his hairline. “You want to start or should I?”

Azula shrugs.

“How did I make you feel like you needed the surgery?”

“It wasn’t just you. It was actually mostly my father.” Azula admits before recounting the comment that inspired her to get work done. He rubs his face in the way that he always does when he is particularly stressed.

“I guess that, that was pretty shallow, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“I should have told you…” he trails off, “that you didn’t need the surgeries.”

She folds her arms and replies with a soft, “yeah.” It is all she can manage for the time. What’s done is done. She considers briefly, her father’s offer. But, no, she won’t let him goad her into another operation. Not for cosmetic’s sake anyhow.

“Homecoming probably didn’t help either.”

“No.” She agreed. Not that it was of any more use that she didn’t mention what had been bothering her so much.

“So, what now?”

Azula shrugs. “Nothing, I guess. I just wanted to let you know why homecoming ended the way it did.”

Chan nods. “Kind of glad that you did.” He scratches the back of his head. “Are things going to be less awkward now?”

“I hope so or this conversation was pointless.”

He lets out a loud curse when the bell rings.

“Don’t worry about it.” Azula dismisses. “I’ll just tell Kyoshi that I was having trouble carrying all of this.” She opens her locker and pulls out more textbooks than necessary. She hands them to Chan and picks up her bag. “"And that you were giving me a hand.”

“Ah, so you’ve discovered the wonders of being ‘helpless.’” Tops grins. “It comes in handy sometimes.”

“Is that why you’re wandering the halls?” Azula asks.

Her grin widens. “ Hell yes!”

.oOo.

Kyoshi lets her join them for frisbee. “How intense can throwing around a flimsy disk get?” She clearly underestimated the sheer chaos three of the school jocks could stir.

The absurd amount of combined testosterone wafting off of Sokka, Chan, and Jet is enough to build a future resume for a frat house.

She is thankful for it; it keeps Jet from pestering her. She lingers with Katara and Yue at what she hopes is a safe distance from the sport related pissing contest. Though she has landed herself in the center of an age old rivalry.”

“Don’t let her get the frisbee!” Yue declares as Azula sends it sailing to Katara. Yue groans as the other girl’s hands clamp down on it. The girl looks smug. She tosses the frisbee back to Azula who passes it to Yue and then it is back in her hands again. She rolls her eye, realizing and accepting that they were never going to pass it to each other.

“Mind if I join you guys?” Ruon asks.

Azula passes the frisbee to him and he flicks it to the nearest person, Yue. “Sorry about your face.” He comments.

“It is what it is.”

“Yeah. Chan was telling me a bit about it.”

She finds herself pleasantly to have such a considerable amount of support. Frankly she had been almost certain that Yue would cut her out. Granted, the girl is tactlessly truthful but she has come to know that, that’s just the girl’s personality. She supposes that she appreciates the honesty.

“Why aren’t you with Chan?”

“I’ve taken eight frisbees to the face and we’ve been playing for five minutes.” Ruon shrugs. “I’m not into extreme frisbee.”

The four pass the frisbee between one another. Azula watches it sail into Katara’s hands and Katara passes it to Ruon.

“Hey! You skipped me.” Yue complains as Ruon tosses it to her.

Azula outstretches her good arm to catch it. Before she can, a different frisbee collides with the back of her head.

“Careful, Longshot.” Jet leers. “We can’t mess up the back of her head too.”

Azula picks up the frisbee and glowers at Jet. Her gaze flickers between he and Longshot before she ultimately decides to toss it at Jet. She lands her hit square on his nose. Longshot chuckles, unaware that she still has one frisbee at her disposal. This one stikes his ear. She offers them the dullest expression she can muster, one that might even impress Mai.

“Jesus.” Ruon remarks with a half laugh. “I didn’t realize you had such good aim.”

Azula shrugs. “I have many talents.”

“I think that Longshot is gonna whine to Kyoshi.” Yue comments.

“Let him.” Azula replies. “Kyoshi likes me.” Even if she does get a lecture, the satisfaction of striking the both of them will outweigh it. Getting the last hit takes the edge off of the sting they left her with.

But still, some tingles of doubt remain.

They carry her to math class and into lunch.

She wishes that her mind would stop lingering on the petty comments. They seem so small in comparison to the kindness everyone else seems to afford her.

She arranges her food, and simply observes the conversations around her.

“Are you still taking Zuko to the comet festival?” TyLee asks.

Yue grimances. “Oh God no.”

“Aw, why not? He’s kind of cute.”

“Gross.” Azula mutters.

“The first half of homecoming was nice but then he started talking about Mai and it got awkward.” She pauses. “You still going with Kei Lo.”

“He’s nice and everything but he doesn’t like that I have to bring Tom-Tom along with us on our dates sometimes.” Mai shrugs.

“Soooo…is it too soon for me to asking him to the festival?”

“Have at him.”

Azula’s heart sinks again. She is still alone. She pretends to be interested in her meal, wishing that they would all just stop talking about dates and dances. She thinks of bringing up their sports teams, heaven knows that TyLee can talk about gymnastics for ages and Yue did love to boast about her award for her 500 meter freestyle. She doesn’t speak up fast enough.

“Are you going to ask anyone to the comet festival?” Yue asks.

And again she takes too long to answer.

“She can ask all the people she wants, nobody is going to say yes to a face like that.” Jet comments. “She couldn’t get a date before, she sure as hell can’t get one now.”

“That’s bold coming from someone who lost his date.” Chan comments.

“I’m taking Smellerbee.” He shrugs.

“Poor girl.” Yue comments, “I’d try to help her if I liked her, but she has one of those coconut haircuts and I don’t condone that kind of sin against hair.”

“It least she isn’t made of plastic. Broken plastic.”

Broken plastic…

Azula absently brings her fingers to her cheek. She hasn’t seen it yet, but she can feel the raised ridges of scar tissue.

She hears Toph enter the conversation but the words never settle. The face Jet makes brings her some satisfaction, but it is fleeting as his words echo in her head. Moreso when she catches tunes in to hear him say, “you can’t even fucking see, of course you think that she’s pretty.”

“Jet, my asshole looks prettier than you.” Toph grumbles.

“How about this? How about you leave beauty related opinions to the people who they are meant for; people who can see. Blind people don’t get to call things beautiful.”

Toph folds her arms over her chest and blows at her bangs. “Whatever I’d rather be blind then look at whatever you have going on.”

She should say something. Anything at all instead of hiding behind the rest of them. But she had thrown away most of her fight with the frisbees and the rest of it has been sapped away by Jet’s commentary.

She thinks of Ozai’s offer. Dr. Guhira has always been good to her, at the very least he made her feel comfortable and like she had a choice. She can imagine that he’d be able to perform a healthy corrective surgery.

“Good luck with the festival.” Jet’s voice cuts through her thoughts. “I bet that even that faggot Aang get more dick than you.” He offers her a final sneer before going to receive his high fives and words of praise.

Katara starts to stand and Suki holds her down. “He can’t talk about people like that, Suki.” Her grip tightens around her empty water bottle. “Did you hear what he called Aang? Aang isn’t even here!”

A mist of outrage settles over the table. And through the fog, they don’t see her get up and leave. She leans herself against the wall just outside of the cafeteria. She could give her father a call…

The double doors open and Katara emerges.

“You can get written up for ditching, you know?”

“I guess I’ll take my first write up then.” She replies. “Is this the first time…?” She looks at Azula before clarifying, “that people have talked to you like this?”

Azula nods. “I have to admit, I admire their sheer audacity.”

Katara laughs. “I always thought that you’d have some crazy comebacks.”

“Disappointed?”

Frankly she thought that she would too. She seems to have them at the ready on TyLee’s behalf and on Mai’s...and Zuzu’s if he’s lucky and she’s feeling generous. But when it comes to herself she seems to lose her bite.

“Not really.” Katara says. “I’m sure I’ll hear them soon enough.”

“Maybe.”

Katara pulls her into a gentle hug. Usually that is reserved for only TyLee to do, but today she accepts the comforting gesture.

.oOo.

She is, once again, the first person to spread her picnic blanket on the ground. This time she is bundled up in a coat and several layers of sweaters that are just thin enough to accommodate her sling.

“Hot chocolate?” Pathik offers.

Azula holds her hand out. Stargazing and hot chocolate, she supposes that she can really use that today. She takes a sip and looks at the sky until bickering from below draws her attention away.

Katara gives a little wave.

“I can’t believe that you nerds talked me into coming here again.”

“You say that every week, Yue. I think that you enjoy astronomy.” Azula speculates.

“I enjoy the idea of free hot chocolate.” She wraps her arms around herself. “It’s too cold out for this.” She gestures to the telescopes.

“Yes, but it’s the only time that you can see Canis Major.” Katara points out.

“And Venus is best seen this month.” Azula adds.

“Who cares about Venus. I still haven’t gotten to see the moon.” She shiverers and burrows further into her coat. “Look at this.” She waves her arms around at the snow. “Too cold.”

“Maybe if you’d zip your coat, you wouldn’t be as cold.” Katara suggests.

Azula hears a clatter and a muffled, “oh dear.” Katara wanders over and helps their professor pick up his telescope. When the remaining few students make themselves comfortable Pathik addresses them. “Today, I would like to start by telling a story to get us in the winter spirit…”

She never imagined that astronomy club with come with fairy tale read alouds. But then, Pathik has never been anything but whimsical. She isn’t opposed to his story choice either.

“Hey, can I share your blanket?” Katara asks.

Azula nods and tosses the blanket over her shoulder.

“What about me?” Yue asks.

“First come, first served.” Azula shrugs.

She and Katara were the last remaining people after the telescopes have been packed away. Katara looks at her phone and bites her lip, “I forgot that Sokka had an away game tonight.”

“I’m sure that my limo has some extra space.” Azula replies.

Her face slackens in relief. “For a second I thought that I’d be walking home. I mean, it isn’t that far but my nose is getting numb.”

“Yes, mine too. Just like old times.”

Katara laughs, “I never thought that I’d have to help someone change nose pads.”

“I suppose that I didn’t think I’d ever have to ask someone to help me with that.” The conversation fades out. In its place is the soft sound of sleet hitting the parking lot.

“He’s wrong you know.”

“Hmm?” Azula knits her brows. “About you not going to get a date to the comet festival.”

“Can we avoid this topic?”

“I guess we can, if you really don’t want to go with me.”

Azula stares at her for the longest time. “You...you want to take me?”

Katara’s hand squeezes hers and she nods. “I’d really like to give it a try. Jet was a horrible date…”

“So the bar is pretty low.”

“So I need something extra special to make up for it. I figured that you like a challenge.”

Azula smiles. “I do like a challenge, yes.”

“So you’ll go with me?”

Azula nods. “I’ll go.”

Katara leans forward, when Azula misses her cue, the girl rolls her eyes and pecks her nose instead. Katara brushes Azula’s bangs aside and leans in for a second try. Azula hesitates before tilting her head. The girl’s lips are meer inches from her own when two rapid horn bleats cause them both to jolt.

“That doesn’t look like a limo.” Katara mumbles, a blush creeping onto her cheeks.

“We’re having a family dinner.” Zuko calls from the car window.

“We’ll have to drop Katara off first.”

“She can come with us.” Ursa smiles. “There’s an open seat in the back.”

“Thank you Ms. Kasai.” Katara climbs into the back.

“You won’t be thanking us after dinner.” Azula whispers. “Family dinners are always…”

“Dramatic or weird.” Zuko fills in.

“Are you going to tell me about your girlfriend?” Ozai asks, tapping the steering wheel.

“Yup.” Zuko muses. “It’s gonna be weird this time.”

#Avatar #Azula #Katara #Azutara #Sokka #Jet #Yue #Toph #Zuko #Mai #Tylee #Fanfiction

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rosalind-of-arden · 5 years

Text

Paper and Fire Reread Chapter 11

Let’s dig some more into the trauma mine of Morgan, Wolfe, Wolfe, and Santi, shall we? Oh, and there is also Thomas.

Jess’s stun shot and Zara’s killing shot both had the same effect, and I just give up on figuring out how these guns and armor work. Ok. Fine. Maybe Zara had hers set to stun too and Jess is just an idiot. For fuck’s sake, I think Santi recovers faster than Zara.

Wolfe snapping at Jess here is totally using anger to cover trauma. He was already a wreck, now his source of emotional support is injured and could have been killed; he can either be an asshole or fall apart, and we all know which way Wolfe’s going in that situation.

But also! Helping Santi means Wolfe at least gets a little cuddling in while they’re going through the tunnel. Whether they like it or want to admit it or not, they both need that. They’re the last ones up from the tunnel.

Jess parked the path and no one seems to be erasing the marks. Are they something the pursuing soldiers wouldn’t recognize? Or is this evidence that Zara lets them get away?

Wolfe vs. Santi on exit plans. Let’s call this one a draw since the kids end up being the ones to solve it. Still 6-0 Wolfe.

Wolfe seems calmer while they’re debating plans. He does better when he has a problem to solve.

When did Morgan get filled in on the plan? While Jess and Santi were up dealing with Zara? Or does she mean that translating back out is how she planned for them to leave?

People who have definitely been to Rome before: Wolfe, Santi, Khalila, Thomas. Part of me really wants to write an adorable and fluffy little child Thomas visiting automata workshop thing now.

Thomas really seems to be struggling to explain his plans here. Just trauma? Or trauma compounding pre-existing difficulty with language?

Santi initially has no patience for Thomas’s difficulty explaining his plan. But then he sees Thomas tremble, and he apologizes right away and shows more patience after that. Recognizing a pattern from Wolfe? I think so.

Dario is the one to suggest splitting the party. I find it a little odd that no one questions this or argues about it.

Jess is underestimating how hunted Wolfe and Santi will be, I think. Even not accounting for the Artifex hating Wolfe, we’re talking about a Scholar who knows how to build a printing press and a high-ranking military officer turned traitor.

Morgan hugs Thomas before going scouting with Jess. There’s that caring side again.

Morgan, still better at stealth than the actual smuggler in the group. For once, kissing while in danger is actually a good idea.

Wolfe gives Thomas his Scholar’s robe here. One, this is so sweet. Here’s Wolfe, who remembers wearing those prison uniforms, giving Thomas something to cover it up, making himself more vulnerable in the process. He’s also offering Thomas an item of clothing symbolic of what he wanted to give Thomas in the first place, and of what was taken from both of them. Two, did Wolfe bring a spare robe? Because he has one on again later (everyone but Morgan and the three High Garda of the group are wearing robes when they go back to the basilica).

"Morgan walked arm in arm with Thomas, subtly supporting him when he faltered.” More sweetness! Morgan is taking such good care of Thomas. And then Thomas reassures her when she worries about Wolfe’s group.

Morgan likes watching Thomas work. Ok, I give up, this chapter just makes me want to write lots of fluffy Thomas/Morgan snuggles.

And now Morgan and Jess are comforting Thomas together. Jess is awkward about touching Thomas, but he knows what to say. Morgan is the opposite: no apparent problem with the hand holding, but can’t find words. Being so freshly out of her own traumatic ordeal, Thomas’s feelings might be a bit too close to hers for comfort. Also, she’s trying very hard to make it look like she’s ok.

Thomas and clothes: Jess thinks Thomas is shy with the girls, but is it just the girls? He seems embarrassed by shirtless Jess, too. As far as removing his own clothes, is it just shyness? Or does he not want the others to see injuries and/or scars? Almost entirely headcanon on the Wolfe side of things, but I’m seeing a parallel between Thomas and Wolfe on the clothing issues.

Morgan is really, really good at taking care of Thomas. All the hugs and hand holding and kisses. Talking about the bird he gave her. The haircut. The new clothes. How much of this is coming from her own experiences and things she witnessed in the Iron Tower?

Morgan says here that the glowing letters are appearing because she’s cheating and wants to see what she’s doing while she works. Remember those glowing letters back in Ink and Bone when Jess aught her? Is this a sign of how far she’s come in her alchemy skills since then: it happened by accident before, deliberately now? Or is this a sign that she was lying then and it was never an accident?

Alchemy takes energy. Obscurists are born with adequate quintessence to fuel it, others aren’t. How does this connect to Jess’s ability to use alchemy-powered Library tools? What energy are those drawing on? Not quintessence, presumably: if it was just a matter of Jess being like Wolfe and having some but not enough to count as an Obscurist, he’d also have the Obscurist spidey sense and be able to identify others with the same power. Well, ok, it’s Jess the Oblivious, so I suppose I shouldn’t entirely rule that option out. And I really, really shouldn’t try to make the alchemy technobabble make sense, anyway. The fucking guns don’t make sense, of course the magic doesn’t.

Wolfe is back, and even though his group had a nice, relaxing lunch, he’s exhausted and irritable. Would Wolfe actually be shocked by Thomas’s behavior here? Or would he recognize himself in it? Jess is too busy fixing a lion to observe.

This whole bit of Jess and Thomas deciding on a name and pronouns for the lion is adorable.

Grumpy, flustered Wolfe and the lion. So cute. Wolfe does not want a lion that requires cuddles. But given that he pushes Santi forward after he’s done, I’m going to say this isn’t fear or trauma, just Wolfe being his usual prickly self. After everything he’s been through, he doesn’t have the energy to be nice about this.

Santi has worked with lions before: he was controlling them to some extent when they first got to Rome. He’s quite pleased to have one that’s even more under his control. He, unlike Wolfe, is totally an animal person. (Mechanical animal person?) They’d totally have a dog if not for Wolfe refusing to have anything to do with it. Maybe he even just likes lions in general; he’s got a tattoo of one, after all. Symbolism, too: here’s a symbol of the Library, turned to their side.

While Wolfe’s crankiness about the lion wasn’t trauma, Glain’s definitely is. She’s been holding herself together all day. Now it’s her turn to have a meltdown. Her world has been shaken: everything she worked for and trusted turned out to be bad, she just had to fight against her fellow soldiers, and she’s not having an easy time working out what she should trust now. She’s probably also insecure about her ability to deal with friends who have changed, particularly Thomas: she does not know how to help him, and that would frustrate her. Morgan and the lion make convenient targets for all those feelings.

Traumatized, angry Glain is really an asshole: the suggestion that Morgan might turn against her friends because of “What might have been done to you” is especially hurtful, not only to Morgan, but also to Thomas and Wolfe. The Library put all three of them through trauma to try to make them into something it could use. Saying they might turn out to be dangerous because of what happened to them plays right into their insecurities.

And that particular comment is where Santi steps in. He didn’t break up the argument when they were just fighting over the lion or whether Morgan could be trusted; he’s willing to let the kids work that shit out themselves. But when she implies that a traumatic ordeal can turn a person dangerous? Santi shuts that down right away and orders her to go make friends with the lion. He’s nice enough about it, probably recognizes a traumatized soldier lashing out (he totally does the same shit himself), but he is not letting her poke at Wolfe’s insecurities.

More Artifex and Archivist conspiracy notes. They’re both still assholes, what else is new?

#the great library #paper and fire reread

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a-rdentlyy · 6 years

Text

*finger guns* fuck vld s8 B)

I was incapable to do my final projects until I wrote down all my feelings. VLD is trash, but I’m sadly obsessed with it, dear god just end my suffering. Just to be clear, I also have some (very few) good things to say about this season but those will be at the end.

Cons

lol the whole fucking season

Pretty much everything concerning Lance was about Allura, nothing about his own personal growth except when talking to Keith

Sunset talk was romantic as FUCK and Keith spoke about how great Lance was and was just so fucking soft the whole time

Sitting at the table and confiding in each other about personal growth had me tearing up tbh

Literally episode one was extremely gay

Like, super gay

Lance and Allura have an awkward date, which was honestly pretty cute, EXCEPT for when Lance suddenly tells her he loves her and she’s just like “i mean ok i guess” and they kiss????????????

What the hell??????????

And why the fuck did Lance choose to seek solace in Keith when he was worried about his “date”??????? (hint: its gay fellas)

And then when Veronica asked about Keith and if he was single Lance literally freaked the fuck out for like 67493862988409 years

HUGE queerbait season and episode if you ask me :/

How the FUCK is Ezor still alive, I’m not complaining, but this was out of nowhere

The astral plane episode w the old paladins could have been so cool

Blaytz should have been with Lance, literally his whole speech about people underestimating him and “fucking having greatness within” is LITERALLY what Allura said to him in either season 5 or 6 (can’t remember and don’t really care about their interactions tbh)??????? Like??????? Give my boy some validation that isn’t centered around his romantic life?????

Alfor should have been with Allura. That’s her fucking dad and his whole “my daughter chose you cuz ur cool i guess” speech to Lance felt so flat and awkward, I hated it. Everything about Alfor’s speech would have been so much better if it wasn’t about how Allura liked him.

AND SHE DIDN’T EVEN CHOOSE LANCE, SHE CHOSE LOTOR AND SETTLED FOR LANCE BECAUSE HE WAS HER CONSTANT COMPANION

They did Lotor dirty, my trash son

Not a single bit of actual redemption

In the Honerva flashback episode could see how his parents tore him down. Zarkon destroying his first colony broke him.

Totally unresolved Lotura plotline. I really liked them together and they had genuine chemistry unlike the “main” bullshit ship of the season. Allura first tries to kill him in her nightmare and then immediately trusts him after he says like 2 words????????? Girl ain’t over her ex.

So was he actually evil and was really sucking out quinessence or was that plotline just never touched upon, cuz he tried to explain what was happening in s6 but was never really allowed to speak?????

The Altean colony was never really resolved???????

Like, who’s running it now??????

Altean/Farmer Lance

Don’t even talk to me about this shit

What the FUCK is with him suddenly becoming Altean????? Like, if he had, you know, some Altean descendents and his little markings were suddenly activated then i’d kind of get it

Also Lance has Altean markings now, because we just can’t let Lance move on from Allura and be happy can we

This ending was SUCH BULLSHIT. Lance has always wanted to be a pilot but now that some girl he liked is dead he wants to live on a farm w his family?????

I’m still not done with how they won’t just let Lance move on from Allura and be happy

He lives on Altea, of all places, so he’ll see her people everywhere

He has fucking Altean markings so he’ll be reminded of her every time he looks at himself in the mirror

Honerva seemed like such a good, complex villain but they just made her goal so fucking dumb

I figured she’d want to get Lotor back (which I dug because I’m always here for mother’s love n shit) plotlines, but suddenly she’s trying to get to an alternate universe?????? The fuck?????

And what the hell happened when she actually went to the AU, what the actual fuck

What a bitch, she’s still pissed at Allura even in this alternate reality

Lol AU baby Lotor telling Honerva how she sucks is incredible

Klance

Fucking gypped

So much build up

Where the hell is the “slow burn” endgame for Lance?????? Definitely not with Allura, that shit was rushed as hell

Literally so much chemistry between Keith and Lance

Allurance

I don’t actually hate Allurance

The writers just suck at doing their job and making good romantic relationships

Literally cringed at every scene where Allura and Lance interacted tho, it just felt so forced

When Lance said “my girlfriend” I actually had to stop watching and had to take a solid half hour to recover (I’m not even joking), it was the worst thing I had ever heard

HELLA rushed “i love you” to Allura. Lance, she’s the fucking best, I agree, but dude. You honestly don’t even really know each other that well (the demi in me is coming out lol)

Allura never once responded to Lance saying I love you until the very end, and even then it felt more like a platonic “I love who you are” deal. She definitely didn’t love Lance like he cared for her.

She even ended up dying and walked towards Lotor at the end, she still chose Lotor over Lance at the very end

And we just can’t let Lance have anything nice, can we

Lotura

“He was happy with you” fuckin Honerva speaking the truth for once

Literally one of the best ships that crashed and burned for no reason

Through this entire season you can still see Allura isn’t over Lotor

Allura, they did you so dirty as well

My wife

I’m so sorry for what they did to you

This amazing survivor of genocide that thought that she was the last survivor was killed off

They also ruined ur character tho, the real Allura would never have basically tortured the real Zarkon without quintessence poisoning

And you would have realized you don’t actually love Lance like that

Those goodbyes actually destroyed me at the end tho

“I’m gonna miss you Allura” BITCH ME TOO, THE FUCK

Shiro’s goodbye made me tear up the most

So she can create infinite realities because of her sacrifice except for one where she lives???????

And who’s leading the new Altea????? No one???? They never explain what happens with the actual colony that Lotor made and the current timeline

Holy shit I just realized we never actually found out if Lotor survived the quintessence field or not

I mean, almost certainly didn’t

But still, that shit’s important to tell us

Looked like a hawk carrying away a baby mouse

Shiro’s wedding was fucking bullshit

Like finally he can be happy

But god, give us fucking SOME development that isn’t damage control

At least I liked whoever he married in those background scenes despite never learning his name

MATT’S HAIRCUT IS A TRAVESTY at the end

He looks way better with long hair

What the fuck was with the lions just dipping??????????

Tbh that shit made me cry

And now they’re just chilling out in space??????

Pros

The beginning of the season was actually surprisingly really good? Like, I was nearly invested the whole time up until episode 8?????? And then it got fucking insane and weird with no explanation.

THE ANIMATION IS GORGEOUS

Baby Lotor was so fucking cute, I adore him.

Those small Klance scenes killed me

Keith supporting and validating everything Lance has done and just being a great bf in general

That romantic ass sunset scene (you CANNOT tell me that shit was platonic)

We could have had it all yo :(

Surprisingly really liked Kinkade’s vlog episode, it made me like the MFE pilots

I didn’t care about them at ALL in s7 but now I like them more

Just Kinkade and Rizavi tho

Some tasty VeronicaxAcxa shit

That’s lesbian activity

Thank god Bex was right when she said Kacxa wasn’t gonna be a thing

Old Paladin’s were pretty cool except for the bullshit talking

BAD. ASS. VOLTRON/ATLAS FUSION.

Thank GOD Galra Emperor Keith wasn’t a thing

Coran keeping Allura’s memory alive keeps me alive

HIS TOAST TO HER HAD ME CRYING

THEY REALLY WERE FAMILY

Thank god it doesn’t seem like Lance is insanely depressed a year after Allura’s death, this kid needs closure and to move on and find some semblance of happiness that doesn’t revolve around romance

Small Klance moments at the end

That fucking reunion at the end made me cry

At least we got a mlm kiss, even though it’s garbage :)

List of Those Done Dirty

ALLURA

Lance

Lotor

Shiro

Adam

The Whole Fucking Fandom

All in all, fuck v slur, 3/10 for the season and 4.5/10 for the whole show. Seasons 1-3 are the only canon seasons. Except for parts of Season 5 and 6. Those can stay.

Also Klance is Canon King.

#voltron legendary defender #voltron spoilers #vld spoilers #voltron season 8 #vld season 8 #vld season 8 spoilers #shut up tess

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rnaryjune · 6 years

Text

OH HELL YEA CAST LIST TIME

let’s do some (inevitably wrong) first impressions, shall we?

(following is based on cast bios ONLY, haven’t watched any interviews

Steve: he’s either a derrick or a glenn and it’s a little hard to say which but im leaning towards glenn. that being said i agree with the whole “don’t have a strategy thing” because he’s right, this show can be too unpredictable. however, should have at least *some* outline about what he wants to do. wanna say he’s gonna make it at least to week 2

Sam: YOOOOOOOO WHY SHE GOT THE “I NEED TO SPEAK TO THE MANAGER” HAIRCUT SHE’S ONLY 27 SHE’S TOO YOUNG FOR THAT. i get the distinct feeling mom won’t like her which means i almost certainly will. i like her strategy because. same. but also im intrigued that she called the show a social experiment cause like....it’s been so long since anyone’s really seen the show in that way. it’s kinda nice tbh. anyway imma keep an eye on her.

Haleigh: WHY DO I SUDDENLY HAVE AARYN FLASHBACKS OH HELL NO SHE THINKS DERRICK WAS *CUTE* ARE YOU *SHITTING ME* like okay imma feel bad if she’s actually decent but i mean. she’s from texas. and she likes derrick. which is the safest fucking choice man come ON. she’ll make it to jury before being backstabbed by an all-guy alliance tbh. sidenote: chainsaws and crossing the street are absolUTELY reasonable fears tbh.

Kaycee: okay i immediately wanna like her but why the hell is a pro football player in this game like what do THEY need the money for. i mean it’s not as bad as fr*nkie grande but still. well anyway she’s gonna be one of those women you THINK is gonna kick ass at physical comps but ends up giving it up to the guys who end up backstabbing her and HANG ON WAIT SHE LIKES *CODY*? FUCKING MCFUCKWAD *CODY*? OH HELL NO okay tbf if she just means from a game standpoint like. i *guess* but also there are just. so many other ppl u could choose cody is weak sauce as a choice. ALSO HOLD UP SHE GAY? THIS GIRL IS A ROLLERCOASTER FIRST I LIKE HER THEN I DON’T IDK IM SO ON THE FENCE WITH HER. then again mom probs won’t like her so im kinda obligated to ka;dshflkasdhflksadfk

Tyler: oh BOY. HE SAID HE’S “QUESTIONABLE” KHSALFHADSFLKA oh lord i can already tell ppl are gonna stan him cause he named victor zach and dan as his faves and like. maybe one outta three is good lmaoooo. (victor was okay i *guess* but zach? pfffffffffffft) im sorry it’s a no from me im not feeling it. curious to see if he’s gonna be sweet or if he’s a complete ditz.

Bayleigh: bayleigh and haleigh alright sure bbcasting. “i call ppl out irl” oh hell. she’s not gonna last. im sorry i wish she would but i already see them picking on her and sending her out. i really really really wanna be wrong but like do u SEE another black woman in the house. uggggggggggggggh not looking forward to the ugly shit they’re gonna say this season. fucking hell casting can u be more diverse pls im so tired of just seeing y’all fill spots with the usual suspects. anyway bayleigh has a sweet smile and i love that she chose donny as her fave; unfortunately ppl who choose donny never seem to make it far.

Kaitlyn: a life coach oh brother. “im gonna use my messages from my guides” oh LORD. okay she might be nice but she ain’t gonna last. honestly so far i think she’s gonna be the first to go.

Winston: this the one mom is probs gonna like (actually come to think of it maybe tyler too). he writes love notes to his dog? oh mom’s definitely gonna love him. KHAEIFHAEOFSFDL okay ryan reynolds i can kinda see but justin timberlake? who the hell saw THAT. anyway hard to read him but imma say a tentative yes cause i see potential

Angie: oh LORD. i shoulda known she liked joey cause soon as i saw her i was like well there’s joey sdajlhslhsdfl. she’ll get on with kaitlyn. maybe try and do an all-girls alliance? but like. ya gotta win comps to pull anything off. and i don’t see it. might actually be the first to go. next.

JC: holy SHIT i can’t tell u how glad i am he said he liked josh and not fr*nkie or zach. mom is almost certain to not like him so i gotta. do i think he’ll last? proooooobably not but we shall see.

Brett: okay no THIS is the one mom’s gonna like. oh my god he’s an IDIOT HE FUCKING SAID “TROPHY” TO DESCRIBE HIMSELF DJLAHODFHAEOIFEOIF MAYBE HE’S JUST CONCEITED IDK. vehement is a good word but like hmmmm not sure it’s a great character descriptor. oh god yea he IS conceited i HATE him so yea mom’s def gonna like him.

Angela: oh she gonna get with brett. she sees herself in rachel @god pls i would be so down for a rachel 2.0. anyway aside from her shit taste in men because im calling it now she’s gonna get with brett, i think i like her. she’s probs gonna be the worst woman this season tho lol

Scottie: hello oddball man u will never be dentist johnny though. oh man this guy’s gonna be annoying as hell. he likes evel dick which...i know y’all hate him and i understand why but i’ll be damned if he isn’t one of the most iconic players. anyway im fine with that hOWEVER IDC UR A 26-YEAR-OLD VIRGIN HE JUST WANTS TO GET SOME TAIL which actually he might with kaitlyn idk. anyway pass.

Faysal: i kinda like him but idk how well he’s gonna do. once again hard to read but i see potential.

Rachel: SPEAKING OF RACHEL 2.0. AND SHE’S ACTUALLY A VEGAS PERSON OMFG. oddly enough she likes britney oh man this is great yea sorry she’s top of my list just because i really really want her to be good and she probably won’t be bUT

Chris: gotta disagree that derrick is better than paul but aside from that i mean. he’s kinda right wrt paul? like would i say top 5? ...probably not but paul WAS a good player. a shitty person but a good player. do i think he was “robbed” of the half million? no dude blew up his own game TWICE he got what he deserved he’ll be okay. anyway. DUDE I ALWAYS WANTED TO BRING A NOTEBOOK IN THE HOUSE TOO BLESS. okay yea no i like him i think he’ll be underestimated and tbh i really wanna see him go far.

#bb20 #big brother #big brother 20 #read more #swearing #caps cw

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rosecorcoranwrites · 6 years

Text

Tale of a White Rabbit

Originally published on www.rosecorcoranwrites.com

“Bostwick,” Emmaline began tentatively, “do you think, maybe, you could take me out of your pocket?”

“Why?”

“Well, It's just… a little too much jostling for my tastes.”

In reality, the repeated swaying and bumping that came with riding in the magician's side coat pocket had given her a combination of nausea and headache, but she had been raised to put things delicately, and moreover, the magician had done enough complaining for both of them that day.

“You want me to carry you again?” Bostwick asked in a resigned tone.

“I can try hopping beside you for a while.”

“Okay.” He gently pulled her out of his pocket, still a little unsure of how exactly to hold a rabbit that was actually a person, and set her on the rocky path beside him. “But try to keep up.”

They set off again up the trail, with dark clouds and looming peaks above and reddish black dirt below. Emmaline could tell that Bostwick had slowed down to allow her to keep pace with him. She was very small, even for a rabbit, and her gait, if that's what her little hops could be called, felt like a completely inadequate way to climb the mountain path. Still, she wanted to practice using her new rabbit feet, to get used to them… just not too used to them.

She looked back down the six switchbacks they had already climbed to try and see the carriage that had taken them across the Styxian Wastes, but they had already departed back toward the Empire, disappearing among the red earth and piles of garbage that they had driven through that morning. Emmaline remembered looking over an old, yellowing map of Ataxia that Mr. Charles had unearthed before they set out on their journey. The Rodomontade Mountains had looked so small and unimposing when they were just a series of small, inked-in points, but as she and Bostwick turned onto the seventh switchback, she thought they might never make it to the top.

“It's too bad we have to go by foot now,” Emmaline remarked offhandedly.

“It's not like the carriage could come up this path. It's too narrow.”

“I meant it's too bad we couldn't have taken a horse.”

“I can't ride.”

Emmaline opened her mouth to say something else, but couldn't quite think of what to say to Bostwick's remark. She had been trying to make conversation, since they had been traveling in silence for over an hour, but the magician's tone was that of someone defending himself, as if she were blaming him for his lack of horse-riding ability.

“Um, so, how far do you think we'll have to go before we reach Ramshackle?”

“The map showed a town somewhere in the mountains, but I would think it would have to be further in than this. Even goblins wouldn't build right on the slope of…”

They had just turned around a large boulder and saw that Bostwick had underestimated goblins' lack of constructional discretion. The path split in two; one way led further up the mountains, and one led to a small town that was built right on and into the slope of the mountain. The brick buildings had a sooty, factory look to them, and smoke escaped from dozens of pipes and chimneys that slithered and jutted from each structure.

“It looks like we're here,” Emmaline said cheerfully.

“And not a moment too soon,” the magician said, watching as white flecks of snow started to drift down and mingle with the soot in the air.

Emmaline hopped back into Bostwick's arms—which were much warmer than the chilly ground—and pointed her paw toward rusty metal sign that read Comewright Inn.

“That looks like a good—”

Bostwick put a hand over her head and muttered a soft shh. A crowd of tall, wooly goblins had bustled onto the street and were conversing loudly, but Emmaline remained silent until they passed. She couldn't let anyone know that she could talk. That was of the utmost importance.

Bostwick edged around the goblins, several of whom cast a curious glance at his top-hatted head, and made his way into the Comewright Inn. The interior was pleasantly warm and tastefully decorated, not all that different from a human inn, save for the innkeeper behind the reception desk. He was a pointy-nosed fellow with a bowl haircut and a covering of short beige fur on the rest of his face. He was actually very cute for a goblin, Emmaline thought, in a ferrety sort of way.

“Whooo!” he said as Bostwick approached the counter. “You're an odd-looking one. Styxian, eh? I have a second-cousin down in Styx.”

“I'm human.”

“Oh! We don't get many humans through here…” He trailed off, looked up at Bostwick's hat, and made an impressed sort of noise. “A magician, eh? What are you doing in Bombast of all places?”

“Uh…”

Emmaline nudged him with her nose. They'd been over what they would tell people, but Bostwick seemed to have forgotten. Emmaline couldn't blame him; this was the first goblin he'd ever spoken to.

“I'm… I'm doing research. For the Academy,” he finally said.

The goblin nodded, then seemed to have nothing else to say. Bostwick switched Emmaline to his other arm, nervously petting her ears back. She didn't know whether to object to this taking of liberties or not. It actually felt kind of nice, like having someone brush her hair.

“You'll be wanting a room then?” the goblin asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Bostwick gave a sharp jerk of his head that was probably supposed to be a nod, and the goblin led them up a narrow flight of wooden stairs and down a door-lined hallway. He unlocked one of the doors and held it open for Bostwick to look in. Their room was just that: a six by ten space with four walls, a window, and no furniture.

“Why…?”

“You asked for a room, didn't you?”

“I assumed that would include a bed… and maybe a bathroom, or at least a tub.”

“Bed and bath cost extra, and there aren't any vacancies for such rooms at the moment.”

“Well, could we—could I reserve a room like that for tomorrow night?”

“I'll see what I can do,” said the goblin, and left.

“Well, at least it has a window,” Emmaline said, hopping from Bostwick's arms as he knelt down.

“Great.” He pulled off his coat and dropped it petulantly on the floor. With a deep and resentful sigh, he grabbed his top hat off his head and pulled several blankets out of it, followed by a squashy pillow.

“I figured we’d have to camp out at some point,” he said, spreading the bedding out on the floor, “I just didn't think it would be while staying in an inn.”

“Yeah… Well, you know goblins.”

“No, nor do I have any desire to.”

Emmaline was tempted to retort that that was exactly what he was going to have to do, but held her tongue. Bostwick didn't have to be here, in Ataxia, sleeping on the floor. He was here for her sake, though she still wondered why. Why had he volunteered to come?

Maybe now is the time to ask him, she thought, but noticed that he had unwound his long scarf from his neck and was arranging it rather meticulously on the floor beside his make-shift bed.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I thought maybe you'd want your own bed. It's more of a nest, I guess, but you can probably fix it if it's…”

She hopped over to what indeed looked like a woolen nest. It was a little lumpy, she noticed as she climbed into it, but still fairly comfortable. She pulled the loose end of the scarf over herself like a blanket and looked up at Bostwick, who seemed to be bracing himself for a rebuke.

“Thank you, Bostwick. It's nice and warm.”

“Good.”

With that, he turned down the gas lamp on the wall, got into his own bed—carefully placing his top hat beside his pillow—and shut his eyes.

Emmaline could still see perfectly well, improved night vision being one of the only perks of being a rabbit, and looked around their room, letting her eyes and her mind wander. Both eventually settled on Bostwick, who for once looked almost happy. It was a rare sight. He had been her family's court magician for over a month, but she couldn't actually remember seeing him smile. Some people were just like that, her oldest sister had said when Emmaline asked about it. Some people were just serious. Of course, Bostwick skipped right over serious and decided to go straight for morose, her youngest brother had added.

Emmaline sniffed, hoping Bostwick was sleeping and didn't hear her. She had always been surrounded by people—her parents, five sisters, six brothers, and of course Mr. Charles, the Camellian Tea Inspector who acted as her personal tutor—but now she was all alone, in the dark, with no one but Bostwick for company. They had left the Empire just this morning, and she already wanted to go home. Had it really been only last week when they decided to go on this journey?

It had all been decided so quickly. Bostwick had barged into the meeting that Mr. Charles, her parents, and several foreign clients were having about whether or not to add extra bergamot to the new batches Earl Grey, (a measure that Mr. Charles vehemently railed against). All in attendance stared in shock as Bostwick, holding a pile of Emmaline's clothing and a small, shivering white rabbit, explained the situation as well as he could. He had found her in the garden. She—Emmaline—the rabbit. Yes, the rabbit was Emmaline. And at that point her mother seized her from Bostwick's arms, her father canceled the meeting, and the rest of the family was called in to sit around the large, teapot-covered table where the Camellian royal family typically conducted business.

Emmaline huddled against her mother's chest and explained what had happened properly. There had been a goblin in the garden. He had snapped his fingers, and then… The whole situation still felt surreal to her, but the shock and terror on her siblings faces brought it all home. She had been cursed, turned into a rabbit. It had really happened.

“Well…” Her oldest brother had said. “Well… should we go out looking for that goblin?”

“And get someone else cursed?” her father said. “Of course, our guards might have a chance if they're on the offensive. That cowardly little dastard might not fare as easily against a soldier as he does sneaking up on a thirteen year old girl.”

“Probably not,” Mr. Charles said. He and Bostwick—who was standing silently against one wall—had been asked to stay. “If he's not long gone anyway, he would prove to be nothing but trouble for anyone who encountered him. From what Emmaline described, he must be an imp, and imps aren't known for their repentant behavior.”

“Then… then what can we do? Surely human magic can't break a curse like this.”

“No.” Mr. Charles poured himself a cup of tea, sipped it for a moment, thinking, then said, “But goblin magic might be able to. Mind you, the only sure-fire way to break the curse would be for that imp or someone from his family to reverse it, but like I said, you'd have a fine time convincing them. Your best bet would be to find some other way of turning Emmaline permanently human again. There are a number of magical items I've heard of: lamps containing genies, wishing stones, magic wands. Ataxia has many such items, but it won't be easy finding them, and it will be even more difficult obtaining what you've found.”

As this statement settled over them, Mr. Charles began pouring tea for everyone in attendance. They passed the cups around the table, with one for Bostwick, but no one but Mr. Charles actually drank anything.

“So I'll have to go to Ataxia,” Emmaline finally said.

“It looks like it,” her mother said, hugging her close. “But you won't have to go alone. Surely… surely someone…”

They looked around the table. Though Camellia was the smallest of the countries in the Empire, everyone in the family had important jobs to do. Emmaline's parents and her two eldest siblings ran the affairs of state within the country itself, while her second and third oldest sisters and her twin brothers (who were the second oldest brothers) oversaw the many tea plantations that covered the hills of Camellia and provided the country's wealth and stability. The rest of her siblings acted as ambassadors to the countries around them, some traveling as far abroad as the Nopali Desert in the South or the Opal Islands in the East. Even now, three of her siblings were out somewhere in the Empire, negotiating tea deals with other countries, and would not find out that their youngest sister had been cursed into a rabbit until she had already left for the goblin-run continent of Ataxia in the north. They couldn't spare anyone for a quest like that.

“I recommend against a large troop of guards,” said Mr. Charles. “Or a group of humans of any kind. It would attract far too much attention. Attention invites curiosity, and curiosity… Well, it might not be a very good idea to let anyone know you're a princess.”

“True,” her youngest brother said. “They're liable to kidnap you for ransom.”

“But I'll need some sort of… bodyguard,” Emmaline said, unsure if that was the right word. Companion? Comrade? Someone to saddle the burden of journeying through unknown territory with her, while fending off any hostile goblin activity they might encounter along the way. “Maybe… maybe a magician could come with me. They expelled the goblins from the Empire in the first place, so surely…

“I can't see any goblins giving a magician too much trouble, at least,” Mr. Charles agreed. “Magicians have been known to journey into Ataxia to conduct research for the Academy from time to time. That might actually prove to be a good cover story. You can go disguised as the rabbit they use for hat tricks.”

After a moment of thinking it over, Emmaline's father said, “Very well. If that's decided, we'll need to contact the Academy as soon as possible to find a suitable—”

“I'll go,” Bostwick said, stepping out from the wall.

Everyone in the room stared at him, some open-mouthed. Though he was the most logical choice, none of them had even considered asking him, for they all assumed that he would refuse to go, or that he might even leave for another country if they pressed the matter; with his skill, he could have his pick of any royal court in the Empire. Yet he had said it. The disagreeable and standoffish Bostwick von Dogsbody, who prided his prestigious position as court magician to one of the Empire's royal families, and who had worked very hard in school to get there, was volunteering to accompany the last princess in line for the Camellia throne through an unwelcoming continent full of humanity's ancient enemies, on a quest for something that might not even exist. It was the second most shocking thing that had happened that day.

“A-all right,” Emmaline squeaked out. “Bostwick and I will go. We'll go to Ataxia.”

A week later, they took the train from Camellia to Borderton, a town just to the south of Styx, where they hired a carriage company to take them as far into Ataxia as possible, which proved to be a straight, one day ride through the Wastes of Styx to the border of a country called Bombast, where they would start their search for a cure.

“Why 'permanently',” Bostwick asked, as Emmaline reminded him of Mr. Charles specifications for what they might be looking for before they set out from their spartan Bombastic lodgings the next day.

“I certainly don't want to change back and forth into a rabbit at random times.”

“Obviously. I meant why bother stating that. Why wouldn't anything we find change you back permanently?”

“Well… I don't know. Maybe Mr. Charles meant beware of quick fixes. There are probably potions that only let you stay human when you've drunk a certain dose or spells that wear off after a while.”

“That would still be better than nothing.” Bostwick donned his coat and picked Emmaline up in his arms once more.

“Try asking the innkeeper first,” Emmaline said. “See if he knows about any magical items.”

Bostwick held his finger to his lips and Emmaline ducked her head into his hand. She was going to have to get used to pretending to be a dumb animal.

“So…” Bostwick began, leaning on the counter of the reception desk. “I'm researching curses.”

“Ooh, I'm not sure I would want to teach humans how to do those,” the innkeeper said.

“I don't want to cast them, I want to lift them… or know how to lift them… for research purposes.”

“Hmm. Well, I don't think you'll find anyone with curse knowledge around here. Not many Bombastic goblins can cast curses.”

“I thought all goblins could.”

“No, no, no. Some goblins can set things on fire, or conjure large blades of metal from nowhere, but that 's hardly what you might call a curse, now is it. Imps and some Stuffian goblins are quite adept at curses, and I suppose certain royal families have acquired the ability over the years. I myself can only imbue ink with magic in such a way as to make it change color, but that's my lot in life, I suppose.”

“Wait, you mean that different kinds of goblins have different sorts of magic?”

“You really do need to do your research. That's basic knowledge.”

“I'd just assumed that since humans can do all kinds of spells…”

“Yeah, I'd heard that, too, but you all need to practice magic, right? Imagine that. Practicing magic like a child practicing tying their shoes.”

“It's a little more complicated than that,” Bostwick began, but Emmaline pawed at his sleeve. They were getting off track, and though Bostwick might find the conversation interesting, it didn't seem to be leading them any closer to an idea of how to break her curse.

“Anyway,” the magician said, picking her up in one hand and pulling her away from his sleeve, “I have to get going. There wouldn't be any magical items nearby, or…”

“Hmm, well, there's the mayor's house. I heard his wife is an avid collector of magical items from near and far. That would be your best bet, as far as Ramshackle is concerned.”

Bostwick made his way out the door and up the street. It was not hard to find their way around, as the town had been built vertically up the hillside, with a single street zig-zagging back and forth through it. The mayor's house, the innkeeper had explained, was of course built at the very highest point in town because “being high up is better than being low down”, which was apparently some sort of goblin proverb.

Though belonging to the mayor, the house was just as blackened as the rest of the town, which sent its smoke up to curl around the mayor's walls. Bostwick covered his mouth with his scarf and wrapped Emmaline's head in the other end, which actually made it harder to breath, but she was so muffled that she could hardly say so. Bostwick knocked, and a short, round, thoroughly cow-like goblin opened the door.

“Oh, my! A Styxian! What a surprise! Come in, come in!”

“Actually I'm a human.” Bostwick said, stepping in and removing the scarf from Emmaline's face. “Do Styxians look human? That's the second time I've been mistaken for one.”

“Oh, you're the spitting image. But a human, dear dear, I can't think of the last time one came through here. Must have been seventy years ago. I was just a girl.”

The goblin certainly didn't look or sound older than seventy, but then again, Emmaline thought, they might age differently than humans, or live longer.

“Right… Anyway, I'm doing research for Melieh's Academy of Magic, and I was told the mayor's wife had a collection of magical items.”

“Ooh, indeed I do, dear. I never knew they were world famous, but I suppose it is quite a large collection…” She was clearly flattered that even a human had heard of her, and waved Bostwick down the hall into a room that was filled, wall to wall, floor to ceiling, with glass cases holding velvet covered shelves, upon which sat thousands of small, gleaming silver and gold objects.

Bostwick and Emmaline gaped at the sheer number of objects, then approached one of the cases to see what exactly they were.

“Thimbles?” Bostwick asked.

“Thimbles!” The bovine goblin said. “Largest collection this side of Pandemonium.”

“And they are magic thimbles, right?”

“Oh, of course, dear. When you wear these thimbles, not only will you never prick your finger, you'll also be able to thread any needle, no matter how small the eye or how large the thread.”

“In that case…” Bostwick said, making to leave, but Emmaline scrambled against his chest, trying to climb up to whisper in his ear. He opted to place her on his shoulder instead and leaned toward one of the cases on the premise of examining the thimbles.

“What?” he whispered from the corner of his mouth.

“You can't just leave, Bostwick. That's rude!”

“There's no point in staying.”

“Just make small talk. See if she knows about any other magical artifacts around town. She is the mayor's wife after all.”

“ 'Other magical artifacts' implies that these are also magical artifacts…” he muttered,” which I hardly think—”

“Who are you talking too, dear?” the goblin asked.

“Oh, um, just my rabbit.”

Emmaline scratched him hard on the neck, trying to remind him to remember their cover story, and he whipped her down off his shoulder.

“I often talk to dumb animals,” he said, glaring at her and rubbing his neck with his other hand. “It's just a habit some of us magicians get into.”

So he hadn't forgotten… Well, how was she to know? Still, he didn't have to squeeze her so hard. She wiggled around into a more comfortable position while Bostwick started a conversation about whether or not all the thimbles did the same thing.

“Oh, yes, it's a common enchantment, really.”

“And do you use all of them? Or… any of them?”

“No, no, don't be silly.” She waved a hoof-like hand with stubby, hard looking fingers on it. “I collect them because they have little pictures on them.”

“Hmm. And none of them have any curses on them, right?”

“Oh, no… at least, I don't think so. Hmm, I wonder, though…”

“If, hypothetically, they did, how might you go about removing it?”

The bovine goblin seemed exceedingly disturbed by this line of inquiry, and Emmaline looked pleadingly up at Bostwick. He was being too obvious.

“I only ask because I have a cursed… spoon.”

“A cursed spoon? Oh dear, whatever does it do?”

“It… Well, it turns into a fork whenever I put it into soup.”

“You poor thing!” the goblin said with sympathy. “Oh, but… why not just use a different spoon?”

“It's a good spoon… aside from its being cursed,” he said, clearly at his limit for hastily cobbled-together explanations.

The goblin brought her hoof-hand thoughtfully to her chin, contemplating Bostwick's predicament for a moment, then clapped her hands with a slight clicking sound.

“I know! There's a shop at the bottom of town that might have just what you're looking for. Just take the road all the way downhill and it will be the last shop on the right. You can't miss it!”

Bostwick thanked the goblin and followed her back down the hall, only to stop in mid-step on his way out the door.

“What was it you said they sold there?”

“All kinds of kitchen utensils. Everything under the sun. You're bound to find a nice new spoon there.”

“Ah. Right.” With that, he continued out as the goblin waved cheerily after him.

“How did you know she had spoons in mind rather than curses?” Emmaline asked once they were out of earshot.

“I think having Clarence as a roommate gave me a sixth sense for detecting inanity about to happen. Not that it helped much. With nothing else to go on, we might as well make our way down through the town and see if there's anyone who has the vaguest idea about curses. Unless you have a better idea.”

Emmaline didn't, so they proceeded through town, talking to any goblin who met their eye and visiting every shop that was open. Although Emmaline was pleasantly surprised to find that many of the goblins were friendly, if not as chipper as the mayor's wife, she also noticed some downright angry stares from some of the goblins they walked past, and one or two huffed away before Bostwick could ask them anything. Bostwick's mood went downhill with every passing encounter, and she could tell that the complete lack of information on curses was getting to him. For once, she shared his depressed mood. Not being able to ask her own questions was frustrating enough, but Bostwick also kept switching her from hand to hand, or up to his shoulder, or back into his pocket. Even now, as they made their way back to the inn with nothing to show for a whole day of inquiries but a supply of hopefully-edible goblin food, he wedged her into the crook of his elbow while trying to get a better hold of the sack of foodstuffs they'd purchased.

“Ow! Be more careful, Bostwick!”

“Sorry.”

“That's twice today you've squeezed me. Rabbits are a lot more fragile than humans.”

“Sorry,” he repeated, though he didn't sound like it this time, “but you're sort of inconvenient, you know?”

“Tactful as always,” she muttered, hopping to the ground. In a way, he was right—this entire situation was far from convenient—but she was just as dirty and tired and discouraged as he was. It wasn't her fault she was difficult to carry; she didn't want to have to be carried at all.

As they entered the inn, Bostwick scooped her back up—carefully, she noticed—and started up the stairs, only to be stopped by the innkeeper, who delivered the first good news of the day.

“Ah, Human, I was waiting for you to show up. There's a bed and bath vacancy open if you still want it. You certainly look sooty enough to warrant it, at least.”

He led the way to their new room, which was the exact same size as the last one, only with a bed and bathtub squeezed inside, only inches apart from each other.

“Why…?” Bostwick began.

“You asked for a bed and a bath, right?”

“Please tell me the tub is at least hooked up to the plumbing system.”

“Of course it is. What kind of lunatics do you think we are?” the goblin said with a chuckle, leaving them to their room.

Bostwick once again dropped his coat to the floor; a small cloud of black dust flew up from it. Ramshackle really was filthy, Emmaline thought, examining her own gray paws. She couldn't wait for a proper bath, but she was also bothered by the large, ground floor window above the tub.

“It doesn't have much privacy, does it?”

“That shouldn't be a problem.”

With a swipe of his hand, Bostwick conjured a long, purple curtain in mid air right in front of the window, then conjured two more to block the view of the tub from the rest of the room.

“Whoa…” Emmaline said.

“What, that?” he glanced up at his handiwork as he removed his shoes and socks. “It's just conjuration and levitation. You've seen me do those spells before.”

“Yes, but never with anything so large, and conjuring all three at once…”

Bostwick shrugged, as if pulling objects from nowhere and defying the laws of gravity were nothing special, though Emmaline knew that even for a magician, what he just did was no easy feat.

Bostwick climbed onto the bed and pulled one of the curtains aside. He turned the hot water faucet on full blast, with the hopeful and expectant look of one who had not had a proper bath for days, but then jumped back as if something had suddenly occurred to him. Emmaline had thought of it already. They both stared at the tub, with a glance or two at each other.

Of course it was fine for Bostwick, Emmaline thought. He could take a bath while she did something else—study the map of Ataxia, perhaps—but how was she supposed to bathe? Rabbits might be able to swim, but she couldn't, and she didn't know how slippery her paws and claws would be on the porcelain, even if the tub wasn't filled all the way. Before they had left Camellia, her second oldest sister had helped her take a bath in the sink, but now? What if Bostwick had to help her? She was mortified at the thought; even if she was a rabbit, she was still a girl!

“Ah,” Bostwick said, snatching his top hat off of his head. “This might work.”

He pulled a long saw out of the hat—Emmaline had heard of tricks where people were cut in half, but never seen one—grabbed the blade in one hand, gave the whole thing a wobble, and turned it into a cooking pot.

“Clarence taught me that one. He took a lot of classes in the door-to-door magician track, where you're expected to travel and make do for yourself in the wilderness. I thought they were pretty useful spells, even if I never thought I'd actually end up needing them,” he finished bitterly.

Emmaline felt a hollow, guilty feeling in her stomach. She was no expert on magic, but she knew that court magicians studied hard to be able to perform the sort of spells Bostwick did, and here he was, for all intents and purposes a traveling, door-to-door magician, a job usually reserved for those whose magic was sub-par at best. He had stood by her, no matter how “inconvenient” her situation was.

Now, he had rolled up his sleeves and was filling the pot with water, then clambered off the bed and placed the pot on the floor. Conjuring a knife, he cut a sliver from a large bar of soap.

“It looks like there's only one set of towels, but you can use this washcloth,” he said, draping the cloth over the handle of the pot, with the little piece of soap on top of it.

Emmaline hopped over to what had become a perfect, rabbit-sized bath tub, in awe of Bostwick's ingenuity.

“Could you, um, help me into it?” she asked. Bostwick obliged, plopping her into the steamy water that half filled the pot. She reached for the soap, but ended up knocking it to the floor; Bostwick picked it up for her and placed it in her paws.

“You're on your own from there,” he said, and disappeared behind the curtains of the bathtub.

They left town early the next day and took the path further up the mountain, where it eventually leveled out and meandered between two slopes. The sky above was still cloudy and seemed to be threatening snow, but the innkeeper said there would be a settlement about a day’s walk away that they could get to before the weather became too bad. Bostwick had made a comment about the high likelihood of them catching their death in a blizzard instead, but took the innkeeper's advice to head out anyway. Though the road was covered in sharp pebbles and bits of briars, Emmaline hopped along beside Bostwick. She wanted to be as little of a burden as possible, which seemed like a good idea for the first hour or so of walking, until she cried out in pain.

“What's wrong?”

“I stepped on a thorn or something.”

Without asking, Bostwick picked her up and examined her front paw, from which protruded a small but very thick and spiky black thorn.

“It must have been from one of these bushes. Can you pull it out?”

He extracted it easily, and Emmaline jumped down, wincing as she hit the ground, then hopped a few paces.

“You're limping,” Bostwick said.

“Oh, well, it just hurts a little.”

“Here.” He whisked her up once more and started walking again.

“Sorry about this,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“You always having to carry me around. I know it's probably annoying…”

“It's not your fault. At least now I can walk at a decent pace.”

Even when he's being conciliatory, he somehow manages to complain, Emmaline thought. Of course, he had been the same way in Camellia, but now, spending twenty-four hours a day with him, it was almost too much. Still, at least she wasn't alone on her journey��

“Bostwick, do you mind if I ask you something… personal.”

He looked down sideways at her, then said, “Suuure.”

“Why did you volunteer to come with me?”

“Why?”

“You know we could have asked another magician.”

“You could have, but none of them would have agreed to come. Magicians are generally pretty snooty. You couldn't expect someone who's used to the life of a stage or court magician to want to wander around the boonies with a rabbit.”

Anyone else might have added “no offense”, Emmaline thought, but instead said, “But surely a door-to-door magician would have jumped at the chance to travel like this.”

“Not through Ataxia they wouldn't—well, maybe Clarence would, but he's still in school—and anyway, when push comes to shove, you're going to need someone more skilled than a door-to-door magician.”

“So that's why you volunteered? You knew you had what it took to be able to protect me, and you were willing to give up the life of a court magician to do it.”

She was impressed. Bostwick might not look it, or act like it, or say anything to even hint at it, but he was a genuinely good person. Yet here he was, frowning again as usual.

“I thought I could protect you, if need be, but I'm starting to have my doubts about whether or not human magic really is a match against goblins. You heard what that innkeeper said about them conjuring blades and fire, and if a goblin could curse you just by snapping his fingers…”

“But magicians drove them out of the Empire.”

“That may be so, but none of the spells I know could do that. I can put on an entertaining show, but that's pretty much it.”

“I don't think so. Your spells have already been really useful. Like how you put all our supplies in your hat, or turning a saw into a pot… It's more than I can do, like this at least.”

“There's not much you could do as a human, either, to be honest.”

Bostwick had never struck her as the most tactful person, but this was going too far. She had been trying to cheer him up, and really was thankful for his magical abilities, and here he was insulting her to her face. She could take a few complaints about the problems of her being a rabbit, but to scorn the abilities she had as a human was the last straw. She bit him hard on the hand and leapt to the ground, favoring her hurt paw as she did so.

“I'll have you know that I could do plenty as a human! I've been preparing to accept my royal duties my whole life. I've learned all about history and geography, diplomacy, biology as it relates to tea, politics…”

“I only meant you wouldn't be good in a fight against goblins,” Bostwick said, sucking on his hand, which had a nasty red mark where Emmaline had bitten it.

“I guess… I suppose not… but neither would you!”

He sighed, or growled, or something in between, then said through clenched teeth, “That's my point!”

This statement echoed softly through the still air around them. So they were both a lost cause, that's what he was saying. Should she feel depressed about this, or perhaps take their mutual uselessness as a form of camaraderie? Either way, Bostwick's constant pessimism was maddening. One the one hand, she probably ought to say sorry for biting him, since he apparently hadn't meant to insult her, but that would no doubt lead to some new line of negative commentary from him. Instead, she opted for hopping a few feet in front of him as they continued on in uncomfortable silence.

It had started to snow again, and the ground was incredibly cold on her paws. Looking back, she saw that Bostwick had donned a pair of gloves and pulled his scarf up around his chin. Oh well, she thought, rabbits survive in the cold. She had a fur coat of her own.

The path began to wind back and forth around the mountain slopes, so that they couldn't see too far in any direction, but the light behind the clouds grew steadily darker, so they must have been nearing the settlement. Emmaline hoped they were, at least, as the wind was picking up and the flakes of snow were gathering together in thicker, wetter bunches.

“Hold on,” Bostwick said from behind her, “you’re getting hard to see.”

Bracing herself for being picked up again, Emmaline was surprised to see everything go black for a moment, then to feel the ground get swept out from under her as the magician scooped her into his top hat. She looked up at him, wondering why the sudden change in transport, but he wouldn't meet her eye. He probably doesn't want to get bit again, she thought.

“Look,” he said, “if I put you on my head, you won't scratch me, will you?”

“On your head?”

“It's getting too snowy out here, and I don't have any other way of sheltering you… I definitely don't want to use the blankets, in case we have to camp out again. If you ride on my head, with the hat over you, that'll keep all the snow off, but you have to promise not to scratch if you can help it.”

Emmaline wanted to think it over—she was more concerned with whether or not Bostwick could actually keep her on his head without her falling—but the hat was filling with snow as they spoke.

“I promise I won't scratch you.”

With a nod, Bostwick flipped her onto his head. There was one tumbling, disorienting moment, and then she felt her feet come down on his hair, and was again surrounded by darkness.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I think so.”

“Okay.”

They were off. Though Emmaline had to work a little to stay balanced, Bostwick had a remarkable steady rhythm to his steps, which was odd, considering how jerky her ride in his pocket had been.

“Where did you learn to hold your head so steady, Bostwick?”

For a moment the only sound was the wail of the wind and the pat-pat of footsteps, then Bostwick said, “I used to walk with books on my head sometimes.”

Emmaline had heard of this practice used by some young nobles to improve posture, but had assumed those stories were made up. Besides, Bostwick's family were shop owners, from what she had heard.

“Why did you carry books on your head.”

Again, there was silence. It seemed to stretch out so long that Emmaline didn't know if Bostwick had heard her, but finally, quietly, he said, “I thought it would help me walk more like an aristocrat, like everyone else at the Academy.”

He offered no other explanation, but none was needed. He was from a merchant family; most students at the Academy were fairly wealthy, if not actually nobility. Emmaline had always assumed that because Bostwick was so good at magic—the best in his class, according to her father—that he'd been revered by his fellow magicians, but maybe that wasn't the case. Maybe Bostwick had spent his whole time at the Academy trying to prove himself. He certainly had, in her opinion, and Camellia had been fortunate enough to be one of the only countries in current need of a new court magician at the time of his graduation. His hard work had all paid off while he served as their magician, living the kind of life that any aristocrat might lead, but now, because of her curse… If she had been human-sized, she would have hugged him, even if he probably wouldn't appreciate it. As it was, she settled for snuggling down onto his head.

They continued walking for about half an hour, occasionally taking a turn here or there from what Emmaline could feel. Eventually they seemed to slow down, and finally stopped.

“Great,” Bostwick said, his voice the definition of sarcasm.

“What is it? What's wrong?”

He lifted up the front of his hat for her to peak under. They had reached a settlement of sorts, for there were a few wooden buildings lining the mountain path. All of them, however, had boarded-up windows, and several had caved in from some prior disaster. As unwelcoming a sight as this might be, the storm really had become a blizzard, so Bostwick pulled the boards from one of the doors and hurried inside.

The interior, Emmaline saw as Bostwick removed her from the hat and put her on the ground, was drier than outside, but just as cold. The magician snapped his fingers, conjuring a small flame into his hands so they could get a better view of their surroundings. It might have been a barn or a bar at one time—it was difficult to tell which—but the floor was now covered in a thin layer of straw and a few broken chairs and a table had been pushed to the side of the room. Emmaline hopped over to these, seeing if there might be anything of interest left by the previous occupants, while Bostwick busied himself with shoving the straw into a pile and lighting a fire. It was crackling in no time, aided by some of the chairs' legs. They were at least warm enough to pass the night. Emmaline sat in her neck-scarf nest and looked across the fire to her companion, who had removed his snow-dampened coat in favor of the blankets he'd been carrying in his hat. They were both exhausted—emotionally, on Emmaline's part—and neither made any move to start a conversation. Bostwick poked the fire from time to time, then finally fished in his hat for some of the food they had bought in Ramshackle. He unwrapped a small potato pie and slid it on its paper wrapper over to her, then started on his own.

The soft snap of fire and the muted wind outside were the only sound for a while, until Emmaline sat back on her haunches and asked Bostwick if he could wrap up her half-finished portion. He did so without a word and stowed it back in his hat. Dinner was over, and without anything else to do, they might as well try to sleep, but Emmaline didn't want to leave things as they were.

“Um, Bostwick, about earlier… I'm sorry for biting you.”

He looked at the mark on his hand. “It's okay.”

“No, it really isn't. You were just being realistic, and I… I suppose I took it personally. I already feel like I can't do anything, physically, as a rabbit. I hop too slowly, and I can't hold things. I can't even talk to the goblins we meet, and getting information from people is something I know I'd be good at, since I've been taught about negotiations and diplomacy. I'm still a princess, even if I am a rabbit… Anyway, there was no excuse for me hurting you like that.”

Bostwick at first showed no reaction, but poked the fire a little more and added one of the chair backs for fuel.

“Well,” he said, “I guess I wasn't much good at getting information from those goblins.”

Don't take it that way! she wanted to scream. Instead, she hopped out of her nest and over to where he was sitting, putting her paws up on his leg.

“I didn't mean it like that. I just wish I could help you out more, since it's my fault you're here. I'm not blaming you for us not finding anything in Ramshackle. There was nothing to find.”

For a moment, Bostwick raised his eyebrows in surprise before bringing them down into a concerned scowl.

“I'm not blaming you either.”

“What?”

“It's not 'your fault' we're here, Emmaline. You didn't ask that goblin to turn you into a rabbit; he just did.”

“I know that, I just meant, well… You don't have to be here, but you came anyway. I know how much you loved being a court magician, and now you're basically working as a door-to-door.”

“Yeah.”

It was such a blunt, bitter reply that Emmaline didn't know how to respond. Anything she said was sure to be met with more pessimism, but, she reminded herself, some people were just like that. In which case, there was no point being diplomatic or delicate; she could say whatever she wanted.

“Thank you.” She leaned her head and paws on his leg, which was as much of a hug-like gesture as she could manage. Surprisingly, an moment later, he pet her ears back.

“Just doing my job.”

They slept through the night curled up on their respective beds, as close to the fire as they could manage without getting burned. It had died out by the time they woke up, but fortunately, so had the blizzard. Sunlight and snow dust poured in through the doorway, and beyond that, a blanket of snow, two feet deep, covered everything in sight.

“Great,” Bostwick said, donning his coat once more.

“It doesn't look too bad.”

“You don't have to walk in it. Speaking of which, I think I have a way of keeping you warm.”

He had crammed his scarf part way into his hat and let Emmaline climb into it, then wrapped the two ends tightly around her. She imagined this was how it felt to wear swaddling clothes, or maybe a straight jacket, but she was at least warm. Holding her in his arms, he set out into the snow.

The clear, clean white under the blue sky gave the mountains a beauty that had been hard to see before. Each ridge appeared in more detail, and the pine trees they found themselves walking through glistened and sparkled with frost. Even the ever-present rocks and boulders had taken on the appearance of soft, smooth lumps under the snow.

“I hope we don't get lost,” Bostwick said.

“Always looking for that cloud behind the silver lining, aren't you?”

“I'm just being realistic. Things like that always happen to me. During one of the festivals in the Capital, when I was a kid, a dog tried to bite me and I had to climb a lamp post to escape. And then when I was offered a place at the Academy, a bunch of people looked down on me for being a von Dogsbody. Then I couldn't pull a rabbit out of my hat…”

“Well, at least that has changed, in a way,” she offered, but Bostwick either ignored or didn't hear her.

“And then there was that time I won third place in the poetry contest…”

“That doesn't sound bad at all.”

He stared off into the distance for a moment, then shuddered, as if recalling some terrible event, leaving Emmaline to speculate about what sort of white elephant prize he must have received.

The path they hoped they were on led gradually uphill and the trees around them grew thicker all the while, until the path crested. They saw before them a clearing with dozens of houses, each with multiple chimneys issuing smoke into the air.

“This must have been the settlement the innkeeper meant!” Emmaline exclaimed. “We just had to keep walking a little longer.”

“If we'd done that, the blizzard would have—”

Emmaline never found out what the blizzard would have done—though it was something awful, no doubt—because one of the trees had chosen that moment to dump the melting snow off its branches and onto Bostwick's head.

“What did I tell you?” he said, wiping the snow off of his hair. “The worst possible things always happen to me.”

“Really?” Emmaline said, taking his attitude in stride. “Have you been cursed by a goblin and turned into a rabbit? Because I think that might be the worst possible thing.”

Bostwick glanced away, apparently realizing that he couldn't say much to this, but then muttered, “Well, the way things go for me, I probably will be before long.”

Emmaline burst out laughing. He really was maddening, but whether it was their talk last night or the prospect of a warm, dry room before them, she couldn't hold it against him.

“I'm glad my misery amuses you,” he said.

“Well, isn't that what you're supposed to do? You are still my court magician, right?”

“Sure,” Bostwick said, with a grudging smile, and walked on toward the town.

#short story #original content #fantasy story #fantasy short story #magician #white rabbit #cursed princess #goblins #goblin #fantasy short #story #booklr #bookblr #writeblr #writelr #fantasy writeblr #fantasy writelr #fantasy booklr #fantasy bookblr

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raintekla · 4 years

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Rain Tekla: Zeyo Atoel what was

The Quicksand.

How many hundreds or thousands of people can come and gone through those tavern doors? The viera whipped her Moogle mask right off her face and onto the top of her hair as a waiter brought her a delicious soup. Deep purple eyes widened as she brought the bowl up to her lips, giving a small blow, before sipping without need of a spoon. Slurp. Ahh. How many weeks had it been since she had left her Tekla sisters’ side? A few moons mayhap? Her hand went up to run through short ebony hair. For a fleeting moment something spontaneous inside her poked and prodded at her, suggesting she needed to change something. Her hair, her mask, her outfit, her identity for the twentieth time? Alchemical hair growth elixirs weren’t exactly cheap, but the stylist could certainly be worth the gil, right? Some suns she wanted to look like a mob boss. Someone in charge who smoked thick cigars and barked orders with a funny hat. Other times, she wanted to be the warrior she was back in her village. This week she was Urkel Grue, a mysterious gilionaire widow with a terrible secret, oo lala! Would this haircut last her or would she change her mind in a week? Hair, clothes, armor, weapons, decoration, this bright new world had a million things to peak her interest, so who could blame anyone for never sticking with one style for too long?

Being silly was a huge part of her identity, but it was also her biggest defense mechanism. Everyone underestimated her, or felt sympathy for her. Such a dull silly girl, talking to nutkin and making terrible jokes. It let Rain slip right past their defenses, studying people. If only they knew what she was really capable of, who she really was.

Well, at least the soup was good here. The soup -and- the music! In the corner of the room, a male miqo’te sang a sweet old crooner’s song, “Birds flying high, you know how I feel. Sun in the sky, you know how I feel…”

Rain’s eyes shimmered, the tavern lights illuminating the tears that had immediately sprung. As the cold buried into her chest, she swallowed and reflexively reached for her mask, sliding it back on. Usually she wore the moogle to be off putting and silly, but there was moments like this when it truly did act as a disguise. As the buzz of the barflies faded, the world began to dull and Rain muttered aloud her only thought.

“How did that song get here?”

Leaving her soup warm and half empty, Rain fled from the Quicksand, walking at a brisk pace towards the emptiest alleyway she could find. Ul’dah was so packed with life that it was often difficult to get a moment to yourself.

Her boots clicking to the rhythm of a song that couldn’t have been more than a whisper by now, Rain managed to find a small nook. Turning her back to the warm stone wall, she slid down until she was sitting on the ground. In her mind the music was still going strong, and as she pulled her knees to her chest, she remembered that cute little viera boy’s face, his tone much much higher as he sang that very same song some epochs ago.

“Reeds driftin’ on by, you know how I feel. It’s a new dawn, it’s a new sun, it’s a new life… for me ...”

A small viera girl with dark skin and even darker hair began to clap excitedly. “Wow, what a great song, sis!” Li’l Rain, then known as Zeyo, had a wide grin, being the coolest kid in Atoel in her own mind. That wasn’t a traditional greeting necessarily, but many referred to their kindred as ‘sister’.

Opposite of young Zeyo, the singing viera child had wrinkled their nose, “I am not a sis.”

Zeyo waved a hand dismissively, “Sis-TER, whatever. Us people in the ‘know’ say sis, and clearly, you aren’t.” It was playful banter, accompanied by a teasing smirk.

“No, I mean that I’m a boy.”

Zeyo’s jaw dropped. A boy! She knew there were boys in the village, of course. She had just never met any of them. There were two, supposedly. Atoel wasn’t quite so small that everybody knew one another, yet it wasn’t large enough to hold a tonze of diversity. This kid sounded like a girl, and dressed and acted like a girl too so far as Zeyo had been concerned. Then again, she wasn’t really sure what all a boy was supposed to look or act like. The Wood Wardens rarely returned home, and the only men she had seen came from portraits. Curious, she reached out and poked the boy’s little upturned nose, “Are you sure?”

As her hand was swatted away, the boy gave a cheeky reply, “No, I’m not Sure. I’m Rhom.”

“Well, Rhom, I’m Zeyo. What kind of song was that?”

“Oh, you liked that, huh? It’s one my mom sings all the time, it’s pretty old.”

“You should sing it again.”

From that sun on they had become inseparable. Best friends forever, two peas in a pod, all that.

Each village in the jungle had their own Green Word, their own laws and customs. Though many were similar, certainly all were different in either minor or even major ways. In Atoel the children were generally raised by the community at large. Unlike many western civilizations, youths weren’t very numerous. In their matriarchal society the men, who were scarcely numbered as it were, were sent to protect the jungle and thus keep the village hidden. In a people who could live up to hundreds of summers, procreating to circulate life wasn’t a very high priority. In that equation, a village might be lucky to have ten children at the same time, and while most did their part to educate the young, someone had to take on certain educational responsibilities.

For Zeyo and Rhom, that someone was Crjn. A massive brute of a woman, Crjn was a salty no-nonsense educator. Though she might permit herself a smile here or there, Zeyo never once witnessed the woman laugh. Crjn picked kids up starting around six summers old, specializing in the physical aspects of education with the enthusiasm of a Drill Sergeant. It was a dangerous world out there, and everyone in Atoel needed to have intimate knowledge with a variety of weaponry and hunting techniques.

Above all others, Crjn was Zeyo’s favorite teacher, and likewise, Zeyo had become the ‘favorite’ student. She could pick up any of the wooden training weapons and use them masterfully. She had strength, speed, and accuracy, everything that mattered to a warrior. When it came to sparring or any physical competition, she was undefeated. In team exercises, everyone wanted Zeyo on their team.

Where Zeyo fell behind were lessons in philosophy, arithmetic, and literature. Incidentally the former and latter two subjects would become much more important to her as an adult. However, as a child she hated them. Well, hated the ‘official’ philosophy lessons perhaps. Some suns, however, Rhom was as much a teacher to her as he was a friend. Through him she learned a deep love and respect for people and life. It wasn’t as if Atoel was ever disrespectful of nature, but Rhom truly truly cared for life.

Once when they were around seven, Zeyo had chased after a bright blue butterfly, Rhom behind her laughing. They had wandered just outside the village, something they did often ever since lessons with Crjn started up a summer prior. Rhom was a pacifist by nature, he couldn’t stand hurting people. Knowing how hard the lessons were on him, and just how uplifting the natural world was, Zeyo was constantly taking him on little adventures like this. As they followed the fluttery little insect, Zeyo gasped as it landed in a spider’s web in an attempt to get away from the bunny girl trying to catch it.

“Oh no!”

As it struggled to free itself, the vibrations along the web awakened the spider that had been lurking in the shadows of foliage. Fearing for the butterfly’s life, Zeyo gripped her little walking stick like a baseball bat, and squashed the arachnid against the tree, her aim true as ever.

And that’s when Rhom broke down in tears. “Zeyo, why would you do that!?”

Zeyo turned around with her bright purple eyes locking onto her best friend, who was now slumped down onto his knees, crying. “Wha? No, no, it’s okay, I got the bad spider, see?”

Broken up, Rhom’s chest heaved, “You didn’t have to kill it. It had a life, Zeyo and now it’s gone, you’ve taken it. Don’t you know anything stupid?”

Her instinct was to reach out and shove him, but she fought it. He was upset, clearly. If she let the spider live, might it not have starved to death anyways? Besides, it was -just- a spider. Instead of asking her questions, she simply walked over and hugged her friend. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Promise me. We only kill what we need, when we have to, that’s what mother says. Even then, it should be with respect and love. The spider could have lived.”

And as he cried into her, his pain became hers. It was a lesson she would carry with her always, though not a rule she would always follow.

Summers passed and the two grew closer and closer, but they wouldn’t stay kids for long.

One sun, when the pair were around twelve summers old, Rhom had went missing. Zeyo hadn’t thought anything about it during her lessons. He had missed out before due to illness, she would just have to visit him at his home after. Fortunately for her, it was a sparring session, and so the sun seemed to pass faster. Mean stiff wonderful Lady Crjn had given them quite the workout, and when the class was over, she asked for Zeyo to stay behind.

“Rhom didn’t show up for class today.”

Zeyo just kind of nodded her head, always respectfully quiet in Crjn’s presence.

“Do you know where he is?”

Frowning, she shook her head, “No ma’am. I thought he was sick.”

Crjn stared down at the young girl, her eyes squinting into brown beady little things. “He best hope I don’t find him before his mother does.”

And that was all that needed to be said, so far as Crjn was concerned. The veteran fighter and educator turned her back to her pupil, a slight smirk on her face. Children needed a regular healthy dose of fear to keep in line. Little Rhom, the worst student Crjn had ever taught, would not miss the next sun’s lesson. She was confident that Zeyo would make sure of that.

And she was right, naturally. As soon as Zeyo was dismissed she ran to find Rhom. Checking the first dozen ‘usual’ spots, she felt a growing gnaw in her stomach as each location showed no sign of the boy. Eventually she moved onto irregular play places, and eventually took a chance and headed outside the village proper.

She found him in the exact spot she had killed that spider five summers before. This time it was Rhom who was hidden in the brush. Ignoring the churning of her stomach, Zeyo tried to keep up her friendly playful attitude, “Hey Rhom, been lookin’ all over for you. I guess you’re hiding out from Old Crjn, huh? You know she’s gonna give you another thrashing when you get back, right?” Several times their educator had tried to ‘beat some sense’ into Rhom. Never had it worked.

The boy kept his face tucked into his knees, pulling at his shins as he shrank into himself. “Go away.”

Zeyo’s stomach knotted even tighter. Something was going on. Even when they fought he had never told her to simply get lost. For a moment she just stood there, staring down at him, chewing on her lower lip. She wasn’t sure what to do or say. Should she poke at him more, try to make him smile? She could certainly make a silly face or try out a silly voice. That always cheered him up. Or perhaps should she take offense? Should she just beat it like he asked? Instead she elected to just stand there, frowning and saying nothing. Averting her eyes from her downtrodden friend, she looked around the area, suddenly ‘fascinated’ with the leaves of the trees. It was an especially hot sun and already her skin had a slight glistening of sweat. Birds were chirping, Opo opos were hooting and hollering in the distance, and gnats were buzzing about in close proximity. Ugh. Zeyo swatted at the tiny cloud of bugs until they left her alone.

“Sorry.” His voice was quieter, still clearly upset, “I just.. They’ll be here tomorrow, you know.”

They? Zeyo couldn’t help but grin. The Wardens, the protectors, guardians of the jungle. Fathers, mentors, warriors. She had never seen one before, and the thought filled her with a bubbling anticipation. This was gonna be great!

“I’m leaving. Just like my sister did. Maybe I’ll even find her.”

Zeyo frowned. Rhom’s sister had left the village before he had even been born, maybe thirty summers ago or so? Many more had left since that time. It wasn’t something celebrated within Atoel, or anywhere that she knew of. People wanted to venture out into the great unknown, abandoning everything they knew and loved just for a shot at what? Exploration? And of course, once you left the village, you were never welcomed back. You were an outsider, as prone to being struck through the heart via arrow as any other threat would. Why would Rhom want that for himself, to be away from her, Zeyo, who needed him here? Again she swallowed her instincts, wanting nothing more than to cry out, ‘But we’re best friends!’. Instead she just sat down next to him and draped an arm over his shoulder.

“Zeyo, you could come with me. We could leave together!”

She frowned, “You know I can’t do that. Maybe in a few summers, after I pass the test..” The Test. Rhom didn’t need to ask which one, no child would. It was, in Atoel anyroad, when a girl became a woman. Usually a girl took it around twenty summers old, some as young as fifteen. They would fight Crjn, using any single weapon they wanted. They didn’t necessarily have to win to pass, but it was likely the hardest trial they would ever have to overcome. Failure meant humiliation, a mark on them for the rest of their lives. They could try again after a summer, sure, but they would forever be remembered for their impatience and ineptitude. However, this wasn’t necessarily true for everyone in the village. There were many who never passed their test, they simply weren’t fighters. They would prove themselves in other ways down the line, but there was always a reverence saved for those who excelled.

“I’m not going to make it, Zeyo. I don’t wanna go. I hate this, and even if I did, I wouldn’t be me anymore.”

He looked up at her for the first time that sun, eyes red and swollen. He was scared for his life in a very literal sense. He was a boy, and the men returning to the village meant that he would be taken out for his own ‘test’. He would learn from a Warden. Learn to be a better hunter, learn to live alone, and most importantly, learn to kill. Looking at him, understanding dawning on her, Zeyo gritted her teeth and hugged him close. No, he wouldn’t make it. Not little pacifist Rhom who wouldn’t hurt a butterfly.. Nor a spider.

“We could run away together and.. You know, that way we could still be together.”

That was another thing she hadn’t put too much emphasis on. Tomorrow her best friend would be gone, likely removed from her for longer than they had known one another. Culturally she had become more than a little desensitized to the situation, certainly. The distance betwixt two bodies did not indicate the distance twixt two souls. It was possible to love someone for a hundred summers, let live malms apart and have only met a dozen times. Regardless, that growing pit of despair in her stomach bit at her, her selfishness taking over. No, she would not lose him.

“Zeyo?”

Her own eyes were watering as he turned to face her. Putting on a brave smile, she stroked his cheek, “They’ll never take you away from me, Rhom, I promise. It will be okay, -you- will be okay. You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit.”

As he leaned forward, their foreheads touched, the warmth of the jungle nothing compared to the burning in their cheeks. Her throat closed, butterflies, as it always came down to butterflies somehow, swarmed within her gut. Then she ventured forward and touched her lips to his, for the first and hopefully not last time. He returned the gesture, his lips parting awkwardly. Neither of them knew how to do this, and while it wasn’t quite what either expected, neither cared. They awkwardly pulled back, shuffling, Zeyo brushing the bangs from her eyes.

Rhom sighed, his eyes somehow seeming twice their usual size, shimmering as he stared at her. “Okay.”

And that was all either of them said as they just hugged one another, cuddled together in the brushes, hidden in the jungle away from prying eyes.

#ffxiv #ffxiv viera #ffxiv mateus #mateus #ffxiv rp #backstory

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