#the idea is: early early in the morning “the predator” comes to the village so everyone (mostly kids tho) can scare him and the moon away | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deepdarkdelights · 3 years

Text

Run Little Red (Namjoon x Reader)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Werewolf Namjoon, Stalking, Obsession, Forced Relationships, Blood (Lots of it), Gore, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Discussions of discovering dead bodies, People going missing, Devious Intentions, Depictions of Guns, Mourning, Wolf Courtship Rituals

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

<<Forbidden Fables Masterlist>>

Preview: A calm life in a small village was all you ever knew, your days spent in the bakery and keeping to yourself. You liked the quiet and gentle nature of your life, but one day a wolf stands outside of your window, a stranger arrives, and people begin to go missing. Do you dare don your red coat and enter the forest?

A/N: Hello babes! My fellow authors and myself decided to change up the order of our release dates for our Forbidden Fables Collab! And, since I recently finished this little beauty, I get to release it first. yay! Now I can sit back and savor the delectable writings of my fellow authors 💜 I hope you enjoy Run Little Red it was fun to make! I can’t wait to read the comments and asks 💜

There was a wolf outside your window.

It’s eyes gleaming in the early morning light like molten gold with silver fur that melted into the snow.

You sat up in bed, wrapping your patchwork quilt around your shoulders as you scooted to the foot of the bed. It was staring at you, that much you were sure of. And that startled you, the almost human like appearance to its gaze was intense and unsettling. It was an animal, but it appeared to be far more intelligent than you had first anticipated.

Maybe it was hungry, perhaps that was why it was so intent on peering through your window.

No, it certainly wasn’t, that was evident. What you had missed before was glaringly obvious now, its silver muzzle was stained in red. It had made a fresh kill before it had wandered over to your cottage mere feet from the woods.

So, if it wasn’t hungry, why was it here?

You watched in morbid fascination as its tongue slipped out of its mouth and laved over the fresh, thick, crimson blood that decorated its muzzle. You could see the rows of sharp canines hidden within its maw for mere seconds before the wolf clenched its jaw shut and settled on its hindlegs in the drift of snow.

“My, what big teeth you have.” You whispered to yourself, your voice seemingly louder in the empty room.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it had made it’s meal. Perhaps a deer, or a squirrel, maybe a bird, or even a small, innocent, little rabbit.

That would have been ideal. But, you knew it was most likely one of the poor farmer’s livestock. Your village was small and self sufficient, rarely reaching out to its neighboring villages and rarely receiving visitors of its own. So, when the cattle and the goats began to disappear, only their entrails remaining, the town quickly became suspicious.

It was either one of two things, rebellious teenagers making a hassle for everyone, or a wolf amongst you.

If only you had known what was to come.

You stared back warily out the window at the creature, suddenly realizing just how easily it could bust through your flimsy window if it wanted to. This wolf was probably the largest you had ever seen, it was almost the size of a pony, with long limbs that held thick muscle from the time it spent chasing down its prey. You were certain a simple snap of its jaws would kill you in an instant if it desired to do so.

It’s gaze had not left you, petrifying you to your very spot. You felt like the two of you were playing a game, waiting to see who would be the one to make the first move.

The call of your mother’s voice was the tie breaker.

You rose to your feet, your bare skin brushing over the cool wood of the floor as you retreated through your door, back first.

“Yes?” You replied, angling your neck to the hallway for a moment.

“Hurry, sweetheart! You’re going to be late!” She called back from the kitchen.

The bakery had been in your family for the past three generations now, starting with your grandfather, then your mother, and now you. Your mother was showing signs of her age now, her hands were unsteady and unreliable creating more of a mess than a sellable meal. So, it was your turn now. It was the only thing you could do for her, besides be married off and you weren’t quite ready for that. No one was.

At least that was the gentle way of putting it, in reality you had made yourself quite the social pariah. You were a determined woman, one who liked to keep to herself, one who liked owning the bakery and not having to sign over the ownership to a husband. You had your mother to care for, a business to run, and a grandmother that lived deep in the woods to fret over.

It didn’t really matter what you wanted, you did what was necessary to stay afloat.

“Just a minute!” You called once more before slinking back into your room.

There was a noticeable difference about the space now, the wolf was gone. The only sign he had ever been there being the large dip in the snow that his form had disrupted and a track of paw prints headed into the forest. How strange.

You shook your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts, you didn’t want to think about what you would have to do if the creature returned. The shotgun looming over you from above the front door said enough.

You couldn’t allow a predator to get comfy around your home, that would only invite trouble into your life.

You dressed yourself quickly that morning in as many layers as you could. The walk to the bakery wasn’t a far one, but it was a frigid one. You made sure to wear your wool stockings and your leather boots, the snow looked to be thick and you didn’t fancy the idea of wet feet all day while you worked.

You leaned over the side of your bed, scooping up your bag and throwing the keys inside of it in one motion. The extra sleep you had gotten the night before had cost you the time you needed in the morning to ready yourself.

Once you gave yourself a quick look over and ran through your mental checklist, you rushed out of your room and into the main room of the house. Your house was more like a cottage, it was incredibly small. With only your mother’s room, your room, and the kitchen in one corner with the fireplace in the other it made for a quaint and cozy home. Albeit a cramped one.

“Your breakfast is on the table.” Your mother said, smoothing a stray hair behind her ear with trembling hands.

You could see her cleaning up the mess she had made that morning in an attempt to show you kindness. Normally, you were the one to wake early and prepare the both of you for the day ahead. But she had also told you many times before that she was your mother and she was supposed to take care of you as well.

You eyed the bowl of steaming porridge that sat upon the rickety table. “I don’t think I’ll have the time to eat it.”

“Then you’ll make the time.” She huffed, wiping a wet rag over the counter in two swipes.

“I shouldn’t have overslept.” You sighed, resting your bag on the floor as you took a seat.

“You needed the rest, dear. You’re up every morning at the crack of dawn and you don’t come home until nightfall. You don’t need to work that much.” She chided you, smoothing her hands over your hair in a fond manner.

“I do, for you and for Grandmother.” You reminded her. The cost of living was not cheap.

“And what about you? You should be spending time with people your age, not working yourself to the bone.”

“I don’t need anyone but you, and Grandmother.” You smiled before sipping at your spoon quickly, hissing as you burned the tip of your tongue in your haste.

“Youth is wasted on the young.” She chided under her breath, spurring a giggle from your throat.

You finished your food as quickly as you could before excusing yourself from the table and heading for the door.

“Your cloak, dear!” Your mother called as you pulled the door open, the chill of the snow seeping into your bones.

“Yes, mother!” You chirped with an amused roll of your eyes as you curled your fingers around the crimson fabric of the cloak. Your grandmother had made it herself two winters ago, as much as you loved it and her you had to admit it was a tad ostentatious and you weren’t exactly one for attention. But it was warm and it served its purpose well.

The door creaked shut behind you, squeaking softly as it settled back into the frame. The snow had fallen much higher than you had previously anticipated. You tightened the ties of your cloak and delicately flipped the large hood over your head before gripping your layers of skirts and hiking them up as you began your journey.

It was rather slippery that day, you couldn’t restrain the slight squeals that fell from your parted lips each time the heel of your boot found a patch of ice and sent you sliding. You were certain you should have caught the attention of a few passerbys, but to your surprise a large group of them had become preoccupied.

There were about fourteen of them, all in one great circle fervently discussing something. They seemed to be worried, panicked even. It had caught your attention now that the group was made up mostly of men excluding the butcher’s wife and daughter. Both’s cheeks were stained red, their eyes brimming with unshed tears as they held onto each other tight in the crisp air.

Your face tensed in confusion as you approached the bakery, the group not too far away from you.

“Oh, poor Sarah.” A tender voice cooed worriedly from next door. It was the tailor, she and her apprentice were stood outside, thick shawls wrapped around the both of them.

You occupied yourself by rifling through your leather satchel, pretending to look for the shop keys you held in that very hand. You knew that eavesdropping wasn’t very polite, but you also were the curious sort, and that curiosity demanded to be satiated.

“Don’t worry, miss. I’m sure they’ll find him soon, you know how the young ones are.” The apprentice said, her hand resting on the tailor’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

“It’s not like William though, he’s a sweet boy. It doesn’t make any sense for him to go up and missing at the crack of dawn.” She replied, her dark eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I just find it funny is all, that a stranger shows up here the same day that Sarah’s boy disappears.”

“Coincidence isn’t evidence.” The apprentice hummed, pulling her shawl tighter around herself as she began to back up against the shop door, aggravated by the chilly air. “I’m sure he’ll turn up, with a search party that size he’ll be back home in no time.”

With that, you finally retrieved your “missing” keys and unlocked the door, sliding into the safety of the bakery. You knew William as well, he really was a sweet kid...to most. Your heart did go out to Sarah though, you didn’t know the pain of a missing child but you could empathize. The sight of her broken face remained burned into your mind as you readied the shop, lighting the hearth and preparing your materials to start your first batch of bread for the day. Your late start was going to nip you in the behind, most of the women arrived by noon to get their first pick of goods and the two hours it would take to make your batches was going to loom over your head the entire time.

You were mid kneading your dough when the familiar tinkle of the bell above the shop door demanded your attention. You paused for a moment, your aching arms thanking you for the short reprieve. Almost immediately your breath was caught in your throat. You had been expecting one of the regular mothers wandering their way in, or perhaps even one of their children running errands. Not this man that stood before you.

This was most obviously the stranger the tailor had been referring to moments earlier, there was no mistake. Your village was small, everyone knew everyone and this stranger looked nothing like any of the people in your town.

He was so much taller than anybody else, broader too. But most astonishing was his pure silver hair and the deep honey shade of his eyes. You had never seen anyone as young as him with hair that light, it surely wasn’t grey, the shade far too bright to be mistaken with something that dull. He was damn near ethereal and unfairly attractive. His looks had almost distracted you from his attire but now that you were paying attention, he was severely underdressed for the weather. He had to be freezing cold.

“Hello, can I help you?” You asked softly, patting your hands against your apron to remove the excess flour from your skin.

He had a rather confident stance, like he was the owner of the shop instead of you, you who was slightly cowering and thrumming with anxiety.

He sent you a wide grin, his teeth were pearly white and for some unknown reason that sent your heart crashing into your stomach. You could have sworn they even looked slightly pointy at the ends, not unlike those of the creature you had seen outside your window that morning. You had almost been distracted by the sweet dimples that rested in his cheeks. What duality he had.

He tilted his head back slightly, peering down at you from above, “Hm, I’m looking for something sweet.” He hummed.

“Sweet?” You mumbled to yourself, resting your hand on your hip in thought.

“Oh! I made some sweet rolls yesterday, how about that?” You said with a snap of your fingers, retreating further into the shop without a response from him.

Now in work mode you busied yourself with preparing the stranger’s order. You couldn’t help but wonder why he had arrived, what his reason for being there was. Barely anybody passed through your village, and they certainly didn’t stay as long as he had.

Once you had retrieved the tray of rolls you set them on the counter before grabbing a pot of freshly warmed icing and gently drizzling it over top. Once each roll had been thoroughly coated, you set the pot aside and headed to the cupboard to retrieve a bag for them.

“Perfect.” You sighed in irritation, craning your neck back to see the top of the shelf.

Normally, you had endless amounts of bags and never needed the ones stored on the top shelf. But this winter had been far more difficult than past ones and your stock had not been refilled in quite a while.

Desperately not wanting to search for your wooden stool, you stubbornly resorted to balancing on the tips of your toes, your fingers just barely brushing against the material of the bags. You groaned in frustration, bouncing up slightly only to knock the bags back further on the shelf and worsen the ache in your shoulder.

Just as you were about to give up and resort to looking for your rickety stool, you felt a hand settle on your waist and a chest press against your back as the stranger reached up and grabbed the bags for you. He was incredibly warm, so warm you thought he may even be sick. He felt as warm as the heat emanating from a fire of fresh coals and that was incredibly alarming, but also explained his state of dress.

You flinched in surprise as you felt him set the bags aside and settle his other hand on your shoulder. It was deathly quiet, the only sounds being his slow, steady breaths underlying your panicked ones accompanied by the calm rise and fall of his chest against your back. You had never been this close to anyone before, it was incredibly uncomfortable.

You felt much like a rabbit, cornered, panicking, and believing that if you stayed still enough he wouldn’t see you and would go away.

He gently rested his forehead against your hair, nuzzling from side to side before reaching up and playing with a stray strand. You could feel him taking a deeper breath this time, humming softly like he was pleased.

“Sweet.” He mumbled to himself.

Oh. Oh, no. Who did this man think he was? You were not on the menu. You shuddered in fear before jerking away, smacking his hands off of you.

You turned on your heel, backing away from him as you fixed him with an annoyed glare. The look he gave you was one of clear confusion, a layer of hurt and frustration buried beneath.

“I’m not sure how things work where you come from, but normally you ask for permission before you go touching someone you don’t know.” You huffed, slamming the empty bag on the counter as you began to package the rolls.

It didn’t matter if he was attractive or not, you were not going to let him touch you as he pleased or get the wrong message that you weren’t even conveying in the first place.

The stranger rounded the counter, the block of wood effectively separating the two of you, making you feel a little safer. His eyes looked darker than before, less like honey and more like amber.

His confident demeanor had returned, effectively confusing you even more.

“Forgive me,” He said, another smile gracing his lips as he rested his forearms on the countertop, “It seems we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot? My name is Namjoon, and yours?”

So, he did have the capability to be somewhat of a gentleman. He was rather well spoken, and his strange mannerisms and quiet demeanor had all but disappeared in a flash.

So, begrudgingly, you replied with your name.

He repeated it after you, his tongue swiping over the full flesh of his lower lip like he was tasting it, sending a chill down your spine.

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, you were correct in assuming where I come from we do greetings a little differently.” He said with a soft chuckle, his amber eyes tracing every movement you made.

You did feel a little bad now for how you had lashed out at him. Normally, you weren’t one who was quick to anger, but that still didn’t excuse what he had done.

“It’s alright,” You said, slowly, “You need to be more careful though, if that had been anyone else I don’t think you would have gone unscathed.”

“Are most of your people so quick to violence?” He asked, titling his head slowly, a strong sense of intrigue exuding from his form.

“I wouldn’t say so normally, but we’re all a little on edge as of late. Our livestock has been attacked and just this morning one of us went missing.”

“Missing?” He asked, a new glow to eyes.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. The butcher’s son hasn’t been seen all day, it’s very unlike him.” You said, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, unsure if you should tell him more. But, considering it concerned him you felt maybe it was in his best interest to tell him.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t stick around for too long. Some find it suspicious you turned up the same day that William went missing.”

“And what if I don’t feel like leaving just yet?” He asked, disregarding the information you had just given him as if he had no reason to be worried.

You had no answer for him, truly you didn’t. The packaged rolls sat between the two of you and a long stretch of silence as he stared at you and waited for a response that didn’t come. And, without another word, he dropped a few too many coins on the counter, gathered up the bag, and headed for the front door.

He stopped for only a moment, his fingers gently stroking at your red cloak you had hung up beside the door. His amber gaze trailed over each stitch as he lightly grazed the material a few more times.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, little red.”

~~~~~~~

After he had left, your day had not gotten any easier. Just as you had expected, it had been another busy day. You had managed to satisfy all of your customers, despite that late start you had made.

There were a few upsides to the job you had, one being that it allowed you to tune into any gossip you would normally miss out on. You were more of a hit with the older women of the village, the people your age finding you to be a tad strange and off putting.

That day your shop had been filled with hushed whispers of what had come to pass, the search party still had not returned from their trip to recover William. The outlook was not in the boy’s favor, not with the increase in predator activity you had been receiving as of late. You weren’t so sure you would be seeing William walking back into town any time soon.

Once the day had come to an end, the sun dipping just below the tree line and casting shades of red over the snow, you had extinguished the lights of your shop and were locking up, your hood drawn over your head. That was when you found out the horrible truth.

As you slid the shop keys into your bag and turned on your heel, you saw the search party emerging from the woods. And with them, you could see a blanketed form lying in the snow, the sheet swaddling the body slowing turning red.

You swallowed harshly, turning as quickly as you could and beginning to make your way through the snow and away from what you knew was coming. You didn’t want to see the look on Sarah’s face, you didn’t want to watch her go boneless in the arms of her husband. But it didn’t matter what you saw or didn’t see, you would never forget the sound of her screams piercing the crisp, snowy air.

Your breath was visible in hot puffs in front of your face as you felt the burn of tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. It didn’t matter if you didn’t care for William, it didn’t matter if you knew what he was really like, there was nothing quite like the sound of a mother’s heartbreak. It was enough to send anybody down to their knees.

Your numb fingers wiped away the warm tears rushing down your cheeks, and amidst your blurry vision you could have sworn you saw a familiar figure slinking off into the woods, a flash of silver hair that just barely materialized. You could have sworn that that was Namjoon disappearing like a ghost into the frigid depths of the forest.

You shook your head, you shouldn’t bother yourself with what he was doing, your main goal should be getting home before the sun completely dips below the horizon and plunges you into darkness. So, with that thought, you rushed home.

Once you entered the cottage, things didn’t get any better. Your mother was stood there, waiting anxiously for your arrival. As soon as you had stepped foot inside she whipped the door shut and helped you remove your cloak as you toed your boots off.

“No more working late, do you hear me?” She said, gripping your shoulders to get you to look at her. “It’s not safe out there.”

“Word travels fast then?” You asked humorlessly.

“It’s a shame what happened to that boy, and I’ll be damned if that happens to you.” She replied sternly.

“And what about Grandmother then? What do we do about her? She’s out there, all alone, with no one to protect her.”

“She has the lumberjack-”

“And he only checks on her every two weeks.” You interrupted, “Let me go out tomorrow and bring her back to us. I’ll go first thing in the morning.”

Your mother bit her lip, her hands shakily settling on her hips as she thought to herself. “I’ll go with you then.”

“No, you can’t possibly think you’ll be able to make the trip. The snow is thick and it’s a long walk there, you’ll exhaust yourself. It’ll be better if I go, faster too.” You said as you approached the fireplace, raising your hands to the flames to warm them.

“And your grandmother, you think she’ll be able to make it back through the snow?” She probed, raising her eyebrow.

She had a point, if you were saying she wouldn’t be able to make it there how would you expect your grandmother to make it back with you?

You rested your hand on the back of your neck, pacing the floor and causing your layers of skirts to swirl around your ankles. You came to a sudden stop, your eyes settling on the shotgun that was mounted above your front door. Idea.

You didn’t like the thought of her being out there all alone, but if you knew she had something to protect her from the wild animals that would make you feel much better.

“Alright, what if I bring her some supplies instead? I’ll grab some things that’ll last her a good while and I’ll show her how to use the shotgun. I’ve saved up some money of my own, I could purchase us a new one.” You mused out loud.

You loved your grandmother, she was the last living member of your father’s side of the family, she was the only connection you had to him at this point. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing her just yet, not when you could prevent it from those creatures that were beginning to terrorize your people.

Your mother was silent once more, her thumb settled between her lips as she nervously chewed at the nail. She didn’t like the idea of you headed out into the woods alone, but she was comforted by the thought of you taking the shotgun with you, that much you were certain of.

“We don’t know when the next storm will hit, and the last thing we need is for her to be stuck out there, all alone, with no food, surrounded by the wild. Let me go.”

And that was enough to break her resilience.

“Promise me, promise me that you’ll come back.” She whispered, her body visibly sagging as those words left her lips.

“It goes without saying.” You murmured, wrapping her up in your embrace.

It was easier this way, you didn’t want to make a promise you had no certainty in keeping.

The air in the cottage had lost all tension, everything was much calmer than before. But your peace could only last for so long. It was when you entered your bedroom that you realized something else was wrong.

The room was positively frigid, and upon further inspection you realized that your window had been pried open, the cold winter air surging forth and snuffing out any traces of heat.

You surged forward and grasped the window, attempting to swing it shut as quickly as you could to try and insulate whatever warmth was left. But the thick scent of copper quickly stalled your movements. Instead of closing the window, you found yourself leaning forward into the brisk air, sniffing intently as you tried to make out where the scent was emanating from. You didn’t have to look far.

Your hands sealed themselves over your mouth, smothering the scream that threatened to break through them.

Sitting in the snow where the wolf had once laid, was a human heart. The snow seemed to sizzle around it, the organ still warm and slick with blood that carved rivers and valleys into the pure ice.

You could feel bile rising up your throat, your vision shaking so violently it made it appear that the heart was vibrating with steady pumps like it was still alive.

And, to your horror, you could make out a form a few feet back in the snow. The only thing that was visible in the pitch black were it’s molten gold eyes, shining back at you in recognition before it scuttled away into the darkness.

You frantically slammed the window shut and drew the curtains closed tight.

There was no mistake now, someone or something had been following you.

~~~~~~~

When you awoke the next morning from a restless sleep, you elected to keep your discovery to yourself.

Although you were incredibly frightened by what you had seen, the last thing you needed was to scare your already frail mother. Your grandmother was still in need of assistance, and you couldn’t allow your mother to halt your plans. You had a mission to accomplish, and you were set on completing it with a shotgun slung over your arm and a picnic basket on the other.

So, you shakily grasped your red cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders in haste, your fingers struggling to do up the ties at the base of your throat. Once you had completed the normally easy task, you slipped your basket onto the inside of your elbow and pulled down the shotgun from its resting place above the door.

You regularly cleaned it, a task your father had enjoyed teaching you at a young age, so you were certain it wouldn’t jam if you needed to use it in a hurry. You slid a box of ammunition into your pocket, one for you, and another box into the picnic basket, one for your grandmother.

And then you were off, bidding your mother goodbye with a hug and a swift kiss to her cheek, and an unspoken promise tittering on the edges of your lips saying that you would be home for supper. But those words were better left unspoken.

The sun was just barely peeking through the thick clouds overhead, you were certain a blizzard was brewing. This only urged you to move quicker through the cleared paths.

But the clouds weren’t the only foreboding message that morning, it was the mother’s wailing in the town square. There were three more now, holding each other in a comforting manner as they wept into each other’s shoulders.

More children had been snatched from their mothers.

Sarah sat by herself, of her own volition, an obsidian mourning veil obscuring her tear stained features. A chill ran down your back as you urged yourself to walk by them quicker, she looked more like an executioner than she did a mourner, surrounded by a choir of weeping women.

You could still hear the echoes of her cries in the back of your mind, the raw chords striking your ears once more.

You tightened your grip on the strap of your shotgun, your pace slowing as you reached the bridge that led you into the forest. You felt like you could breathe now, despite the knowledge that people your own age had lost their lives in the thick overgrowth before you. The relief that you felt from the women in the square outweighed your fear.

The bridge creaked in protest as your boots tapped against the wood. It would need to be repaired come spring.

“Little red!” A voice called from the treeline causing you to suddenly stop, snow kicking up beneath your boots.

Moments later, a familiar figure emerged from the frost coated trees, tall, ash hair, and honey eyes. Namjoon.

“Where are you off to, little red?” He cooed, his voice low with a sultry edge that sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t tell if they were delighted or terrified chills.

“My grandmother’s, what are you doing here?” You asked, your body tense and defensive.

He drew nearer now, a wide grin gracing his lips with a set of teeth so white they resembled the snow beneath your boots. The closer he got the more you noticed about him. His perfect white teeth seemed a little sharper than most, and the clothes he wore were once more, not suited for the frigid weather.

“I caught sight of this old thing,” He hummed, his finger tracing over your cloak and the strap of your shotgun as he slowly circled you, “And couldn’t help but see you.”

You stepped back hesitantly, his presence was unnerving. Without saying anything more you pulled away from his reach and began to walk by him briskly, headed into the woods.

“Leaving so soon? We only just met.” He laughed, it would have been a nice contagious laughter had you not heard the bitter edge to it.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the time to dawdle, Namjoon. I need to reach her before the storm hits.”

“Well then, won’t you let me accompany you?”

“I don’t need an escort, I know my way just fine, thank you very much.”

“And what about the beasts then?” He asked from beside you, sending you halting to a stop.

“Beasts?” You asked slowly, gazing up at him from beneath the cover of your hood.

“Well, surely you know?” He asked in a patronizing tone, his honey eyes narrowing. “Four people from your village have gone missing, red. Surely you know that wasn’t an accident. Great beasts have roamed this forest for centuries and they don’t take kindly to intruders. It would be much safer if I came with you.”

You stood there for a moment in silence, contemplating his words. He was not wrong, two people were much safer than just one.

So, begrudgingly, you accepted his offer.

His hand quickly captured your own, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pressed his side tightly to your own with a grin. How bold. You were struck once more by the fact that he was incredibly warm, it was no wonder why he wasn’t bundled up like you were. It felt like he had struck a fever.

Namjoon filled the silence between the two of you surprisingly well, telling you stories of the great beasts that roamed the woods, effectively scaring you and holding your attention. He had a way of speaking that drew people in, like a siren from the stories your father had read to you.

It was easy to forget with him, easy to forget why you had been frightened in the first place, easy to sink into his side as his warmth seeped into your flesh, and easy to get lost in his voice.

That was of course, until you felt him pulling you off of the path.

You dug your heels into the snow, tugging at his hand violently. “Namjoon!”

“Yes?” He asked.

“What are you doing? Her cottage is this way, we stay on the path, we never leave the path.” You said, gesturing towards the dirt pathway beneath the two of you.

That was a spoken rule in your village, never go off of the path.

“That’s ridiculous,” He chuckled, “If we continue the way you were going, that doubles the time it takes to get there, it’s better we take the shortcut.”

“No.” You sternly said.

“And why not?”

“Because, there’s predators out there! Mountain lions, bears, wolves!”

A mischievous smirk pulled at the corners of his lips, “Are you scared of wolves, little red?”

“I’m scared of anything that wants to eat me.” You replied with a dry tone.

“Well you do smell very sweet-”

“Namjoon!”

He took a deep breath, his eyes darting between you and the shortcut. “I promise you, nothing will hurt you while I’m here. Besides, did you know some flowers bloom in the winter?”

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“I am, there’s a field of flowers this way, all different breeds that bloom in the dead of winter. Don’t you think your grandmother would enjoy those?”

You chewed at your lip uneasily. He knew exactly what to say to make you question your own actions. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to see what he was talking about, and you knew that yes, your grandmother would be elated by something so cheery in the bleak winter months.

So, after a few moments of consideration, you agreed.

And Namjoon had not been lying. After a few minutes of trekking through the deep snow the two of you emerged into a clearing, and just like he said, it was filled with flowers of all different breeds.

You found yourself crouching down into the field, your fingers trailing over each velvety petal that had somehow found a way to survive in the clutches of an icy death. Your favorites were the deep red roses. They were a dead match for your cloak, a beautiful color that was delicately dusted with soft flakes of snow.

You couldn’t help but greedily pluck several blossoms from the foliage, slipping them into your basket.

And, amidst your excitement, you hadn’t noticed just how close your companion had gotten until you felt him. That incredible warmth had returned as he crouched down behind you, and just like he had in the bakery, you felt him lightly nuzzling your head and breathing in your scent as he pressed himself closer to you, his arms winding around your body in an attempt to pull you even tighter to him.

You froze, your finger mid pull on the rose’s stem causing you to slice the appendage on a stray thorn. You hissed in pain as you watched the blood drip from the tip of your finger before rolling down your wrist and carving a pool into the snow beneath you.

And, without a thought, Namjoon’s hand encircled your wrist and yanked it up to his face.

His once honey eyes appeared brighter than before, his long lashes fluttering as his warm breath misted over your skin. And before you could stop him, he licked a line up your wrist, collecting the blood, and pressed your finger to his lips swiping his tongue over the wound.

You yelped in surprise, wrenching your hand free from his grip as your heart pounded violently. You rose to your feet and stumbled backwards through the snow.

Namjoon remained where he was crouched, a sudden hunger evident in his honey gaze, a gaze that was not so unfamiliar.

“We-we need to go!” You stuttered, turning on your heel and retreating from whatever had just happened.

You held your hand close to your chest as you walked, frightened by what had just transpired. A part of you suddenly wished you had made your journey alone as you had previously intended.

But the harsh crunch of snow behind you reminded you of the choice you made, and the molten glare digging into your back exemplified it.

~~~~~~~

The rest of your journey was made in complete silence, a new tension had settled between the two of you. And, true to Namjoon’s word, the way he had taken you was indeed a shortcut. So, you felt no remorse as you sprinted toward the cottage ahead of you and threw a weak thank you over your shoulder.

You couldn’t stand the awkward tension anymore, you couldn’t stand being in his presence any longer than you needed to.

As soon as you approached the front door, you threw it open and let it shut behind you. You leaned against the door for a moment to catch your breath before you shrugged the shotgun off of your shoulder and strung it up on the hook beside the front door.

“Grandmother!” You called as you began to approach the kitchen door, “I’m here!”

And upon opening it, a blood curdling scream broke free from your lips.

The sight before you could only be described as a massacre. Your hands desperately tried to cover your eyes, but the damage had already been done. There was blood, so much blood amongst other things laid out atop the counter.

You fell backwards, your body sliding down the wall as hoarse screams raked through your throat. The unmistakable scent of blood was thick in the kitchen sending your stomach churning in your gut. You knew that scent, it was clear as day whatever had remained in that room had once been human.

“Sweetheart?” A familiar voice called out to you.

And upon opening your eyes, you saw your grandmother standing before you. The sudden feeling of elation surging through your body at the sight of her alive quickly died out. She wore a leather apron stained with blood, both fresh and old, and her hands were gloved. You quickly stood and began to back away from her, your sense of self preservation suddenly kicking in, your eyes zeroing in on the meat cleaver she held in her left hand.

“Sweetheart, calm down.” She whispered softly, carefully setting the blade down on the counter beside the gorey mess.

Your eyes were darting everywhere but her, panicked breaths leaving your parted lips. Your gaze finally settled in the corner of the room where a pile of clothing sat and a familiar axe. The lumberjack, she had murdered the lumberjack.

“Why?” You cried, trembling as if you had been drenched to the bone. “Why did you do it?!”

“I had too sweetie, I have to feed them.”

“Them? Who?” You asked, backing out of the kitchen as she followed your trail, her face soft with sympathy despite the flecks of blood that decorated her cheeks.

“The wolves, of course. I made a deal with them long ago, if I fed them in the winter I could stay here.” She replied, her voice alarmingly calm. “The lumberjack was a sweet man but this winter was a rough one, not many travelers I’m afraid.”

“You’ve gone mad.” You whispered.

“I know this is a lot to take in, but it’s best if you listen to me darling. Your grandfather was one of them, he courted me and then we had your father and your uncles. It’s always tricky with litters, you never know who is going to take after who. Your father though, he was the most human out of all of them. Poor thing couldn’t even shift.” She sighed, her eyes glazing over.

“You need help, you’re not well.” You tried again, doing your best to keep distance between the two of you.

“I know you’re a bit shaken up, but you need to listen to me, it’s in your best interest.” She sighed, untying the leather apron from around her waist.

“That cloak you’re wearing, it’s a symbol that you’ve come of age and Namjoon has had every intention of courting you. He’s been rather obvious really, he’s becoming quite frustrated with you.”

You suddenly became still, your mind flashing through every time Namjoon had ever touched the very item you were wearing. What she was saying, although deluded, had some semblance of truth.

“I-I have to go.” You mumbled, your throat tightening from the copper scent and smell of flesh that hung heavily in the air. You needed to get home and far away from her before she killed you too.

A deep sadness spread over her features as her head hung low, shaking from side to side. “Don’t run,” She breathed, “They find the chase seductive.”

All this time you had been slowly backing away from the person you loved the most, and now you had been stopped by the feeling of a solid form behind you. You quickly spun around, a shriek of horror escaping you as you met the bright, gold eyes of your escort, Namjoon.

And, without thinking, you ran.

Your cloak was fluttering behind you rapidly in the harsh, cold winds, the snow coming down thicker than it ever had before. And, to your absolute horror, a loud howl was echoing throughout the trees.

You peered over your shoulder as you sprinted to the best of your ability through the snow drifts. The wolf that had sat outside your window days before had returned and was chasing you down. Now that there was nothing separating you from the creature you were terrified, it was massive and hunting you down. It had the clear advantage, you were inevitably going to die. You were never going home again, another child was going to be ripped from their mother.

Tears were pouring down your cheeks like waterfalls as you blindly ran, unsure as to where you were going. You knew that you didn’t have time, four legs were faster than two and you were greatly impaired by the weather.

With no goal in mind, no destination in sight, you ran in hopes you would be able to live for a little longer. You did your best to weave between the trees, slide down hills of snow, and keep running for your life. Your lungs burned and your legs ached but still you ran, even as you heard the loud steps of the wolf coming nearer and nearer.

And, just as you had lost all hope, an outcropping of rocks became visible at the base of a snowy hill. And with every intention to save your life, you recklessly threw yourself down the hill allowing gravity to take over for you.

The second you felt yourself cease rolling, you rose to your unsteady legs and dizzily stumbled into the cluster of rocks, pulling yourself into the shelter away from the blizzard.

But your hope was fleeting as you came to a realization. The shelter was a den, one that had clearly been in use. It was littered with furs, blankets, books, and materials for a fire. The creature had been corralling you to this very location.

You turned as another burst of adrenaline shot through your body only to be stunted by the sight of the silver wolf blocking the exit to the den.

It’s bright eyes stared back at you with a gleam of satisfaction as it crouched down, shimming it’s way into the den and backing you up further into its depths.

You watched, horrified, as the wolf began to whimper, it’s body shaking violently as the sound of bones beginning to snap and crunch echoed throughout the space, reforming and distorting themselves into vaguely familiar shapes as it’s fur began to melt away.

Those bright golden eyes faded to a recognizable honey shade, and the silver fur disappeared and showed itself as ashen hair. On the floor of the den sat Namjoon in the place of where the powerful wolf had once stood.

He carefully rolled his head from side to side, his neck cracking loudly in response as he rose to his feet. A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips, a triumphant gleam to his eyes as he confidently approached your trembling form.

A broken cry escaped from your throat as you felt him press his forehead to your own, lightly nuzzling his head against yours. His strange behavior now made sense, he had been courting you in a way that was unfamiliar to you, but natural to him.

All of the people that had gone missing were male’s your age, he had been wiping out the competition.

And the bloody organ he had left outside of your window, had been a horrific present. A show of his dominance and his twisted affection.

You were crying uncontrollably now, everything you had experienced suddenly crashing down on you. You flinched in terror as you felt his fingers grip your jaw, his lips just brushing against your own and he hummed happily.

“You have nowhere left to run, little red.”

2K notes · View notes

satendou · 3 years

Text

⟼ manhunt

⍣ stardew: tilted | next: manhunt: redux | 1/?

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: iwaizumi/reader/oikawa

⇢ au: stardew!au

⇢ summary: it starts off as hiding eggs with a twist, and suddenly you find yourself hunted

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: predator/prey play, established relationship, forest sex, spitroasting, no prep, creampies

⇢ word count: 3877

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: i’ve always wanted to do a stardew au, though not in this format. still, these have been pretty fun to write so far.

“Are we sure they’ll be alright overnight?” Oikawa asked skeptically, looking at the baskets full of colored eggs sitting in front of the general store. “What about ants?”

“That’s the whole reason we went with plastic eggs this year,” Kuroo answered, picking up a powder blue on from the pile. Popping it open, he plucked the mini Snickers bar out, only to receive a swat on the hand from Akaashi. “Ow, okay, geez,” he pouted, closing the egg back up.

“There’s plenty of leftover candy you can eat after we get these hidden,” Akaashi scolded, turning to the other adults who had volunteered to hide the eggs for the hunt in the morning.

It had been unanimously decided that, if you had to be the ones to do it, you were going to make it fun for the adults too. Thus, the egg hiding was turned into a game of manhunt, where the runners had to place all their eggs without getting caught by the hunters. If they did get caught, they then had to take some of the hunter’s eggs on top of their ownl. If they managed to avoid being caught, they got to hide until the game was called.

“How do we decide who’s going to be a hunter?” you asked, leaning on Iwa’s arm. There were ten adults in all and ten baskets full to the brim with plastic eggs.

“I’ll be one,” Kuroo offered, though you didn’t like the tone in which he said it. It was scheming and mischievous, and you already knew Kuroo to be a decent hunter.

“Rip, Bo,” Atsumu said, and the group burst out into chuckles while Bokuto wilted.

Iwa’s arm flexed around yours as he laughed before he said, “I’ll be the other one.”

“Rip Oikawa.” It was Osamu this time, and laughter filled the quiet darkness once again, punctuated by Oikawa’s whining.

Everyone picked up a basket while Iwa and Kuroo set a timer for five minutes on their watches, watching as the rest of you disappeared into the darkness. There was something foreboding about being alone, even if you were just in the center of the village. Knowing that Kuroo and Iwa were going to be skulking around-- no doubt trying to scare everyone they came across-- added an element of excitement to the whole thing.

There was no one else around you, as far as you could see. Without a flashlight, you had to rely on the moon to light your way. A tree appeared to your right, and you paused to tuck an egg in it’s roots, hidden enough that it wouldn’t be seen instantly but easy enough for the kids to find in the morning.

Constantly looking over your shoulder, you placed eggs here and there, running across Osamu at one point with Atsumu on his heels, snickering as he told you Bo had already been caught.

Several minutes later, when your basket was down to half the eggs you had started with, a hand wrapped around your wrist, another one quickly clapping over your mouth to stifle your screams.

“Found you,” a voice whispered, and you quickly relaxed as you realized it was Oikawa.

Smacking him on the chest, you hissed, “You asshole, you scared the shit outta me. What are you doing?” You could feel him laughing against you, stifling his noises in his hand, before he finally managed to say, “I finished hiding my eggs, so I figured I’d come help you. There are no rules saying I can’t.”

“Well, if you insist,” you said, shoving your basket into his hands. “It’s the least you could do for nearly giving me a heart attack.”

He didn’t seem overly upset, trailing behind you and dropping eggs much faster than you had. There was a noise from your right, around the corner of the saloon, and Oikawa grabbed your wrist again, yanking you around the side of Nekomata’s house. It sounded like arguing, and you finally recognized Atsumu’s voice complaining about being caught.

Kuroo’s laughter cut across him, wickedly amused, before saying something you couldn’t hear. So invested in what was going on over there, you didn’t hear someone coming up behind you until Oikawa took in sharp breath, which was quickly cut off.

Startled, you spun around and caught sight of Iwa with his hand over Oikawa’s mouth, who looked like he was about to faint. Iwa laughed, a low rumble in his chest, before releasing Oikawa.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he drawled, staring pointedly at the basket in Oikawa’s hands. “Looks like you lose, Tooru.”

Pouting, Oikawa held out his-- your-- basket, but Iwa didn’t drop any of his eggs into his basket, his smirk widening as he held up his empty basket.

“How did you--?” you asked, looking up at him suspiciously.

Winking, he dragged you and Oikawa further into the shadows, just in time for Kuroo to skulk by silently. Kuroo paused, looking around as if he’d heard something, only to be distracted by a muffled yell from down by the river.

When he had disappeared into the darkness again, Iwa snickered. “Kuroo’s been too busy looking for Bokuto and Akaashi to catch anyone else. But I think you still need to be punished for getting caught.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened, faintly glinting in the moonlight, locking with yours when Iwa’s hands ghosted up under his shirt. “We still have eggs to hide, Hajime--”

You had never known Oikawa to turn down any chance to do anything in public-- in face, you were fairly certain at this point that he got off on it. Which was why you weren’t surprised when he continued on, a smirk flashing across his face.

“--Besides, this was _____’s basket. Mine is empty.”

He held up his basket, one Iwa recognized as the one Oikawa had scurried off with almost an hour ago. Iwa quirked a brow, pausing where he had been trailing kisses up Oikawa’s neck, crooking his finger at you.

“Were you really just going to let Tooru take your punishment, princess?” Iwa asked, pulling you right up against his chest. You were now pinned between the two of them, chin tilted up by an iron grip to look up into Iwa’s shaded eyes. “I don’t think that’s fair, do you?”

Shaking your head, you let your hands curl into the front of his shirt, standing on your tiptoes reflexively when his head dipped down.

Behind you, Oikawa chuckled, hands coming to rest on your hips. “Well, I did offer to help her, I’ll admit.”

Iwa hummed thoughtfully, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he said, “In that case, maybe I should give you a chance to make up for it. If you can hide all those eggs without getting caught in…”

“Five minutes,” Oikawa offered, looking at the number of eggs still in the basket. There were maybe twenty left, and five minutes would be plenty of time to hide them-- if you could avoid Kuroo.

The corner of Iwa’s lips turned up, a clear smirk as he nodded. “If you can get rid of ‘em in five minutes, you won’t be punished. But if you can’t do it, well…”

He left it unsaid, but you understood loud and clear. You had no idea what he and Oikawa would do, but it would no doubt be embarrassing for you. Still, your thighs clenched at the thought and a mischievous part of you considered botching it just to find out what they had planned-- until you remembered who could find you.

Kuroo and Atsumu would never let you live it down, and no doubt Bokuto would accidentally spill to the whole village that the three of you had been up to something out in public, and that was a humiliation you would never survive.

Iwa and Oikawa watched you stumble off, urgency in your steps while you tried to navigate in the dark, before they turned to each other.

“I didn’t know you were so mean, Haji,” Oikawa drawled, winding his arms around his waist.

Iwa went willingly enough, still wearing a smirk as he avoided Oikawa’s attempted kiss. “Maybe I’ve been spending too much time with you.”

Oikawa snickered, nudging Iwa’s nose with his own until he could capture his lips in a less-than-chaste kiss. “No need to be rude. I know you like it.”

You had no notion of how much time had passed by the time you placed the last egg, narrowly avoiding a prowling Kuroo by the bridge leading to the library. You had been too afraid to set a timer, of drawing Kuroo right to you and having to face Iwa’s punishment, so you could only hope you had finished in time.

Upon returning to Nekomata’s house, your heart dropped to your toes when you realized Iwa and Oikawa were nowhere to be found.

“Where--?” you whispered, only to nearly jump out of your skin when a pair of arms circled your waist. A sharp gasp left you, a scream fizzling out in your throat before you whipped around to look up into Oikawa’s cheeky face.

“You barely made it, princess. What, didn’t you want to see what Iwa had planned?” he whispered, dragging you around the back of Nekomata’s house. You could hear voices near the front of the general store, talking about another round of manhunt since it was still so early.

“Should we take it out into the woods instead?” Kita was asking, looking around at all the dark houses around you. “I don’t want to disturb anyone.”

“I’m fine with that,” Kuroo said with a shrug. The only one who declined was Sakusa, who cringed at the idea of traipsing through the woods in the dark. “Alright then, let’s go.”

The closer you got to the lake, the harder your heart thumped, wondering what Iwa and Oikawa were thinking. No doubt they would toy with you for a while, letting the tension build as you wandered alone in the dark before pouncing. The thought alone made you anxious, squirming against Iwa’s chest while everyone decided who would be the hunters again.

“I’ll be one again,” Iwa offered, cutting a glance in your direction. The smile he gave you was gone in a flash, but you got the message.

He was a predator, and you were his prey. No doubt Oikawa would join him, too.

“Funny you say that, because I was gonna say that too,” Kuroo said, and they shared a smirk before Kuroo glanced at Akaashi from the corner of his eye.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two were sadists,” Atsumu drawled, leaning back against the trunk of a pine tree.

Kuroo and Oikawa snickered while Iwa shrugged, giving the blond a half-smile. “If that’s your only objection, I’d suggest you start running.”

A hand wrapped around your wrist before you could scurry off, lips pressing against your temple to cover as Iwa whispered, “I’ll see you soon, princess.”

Barely containing a squeak, you ripped your hand from his hold and disappeared into the trees, leaving Kuroo and Iwa alone.

Kuroo turned to him with a smirk then, amusement dripping from every word as he asked, “Should I just...leave her to you, then?”

Iwa hummed in agreement, unable to stop a small laugh from escaping. “That obvious, huh?” “I won’t tell you if you won’t, just leave Akaashi for me,” Kuroo said, patting him on the arm. The alarms on their watches went off simultaneously and they shared one last knowing glance before going their separate ways.

Meanwhile, you had made it all the way down to the abandoned house overlooking a cliff, skirting in front of the creepy looking building towards the bridge. The light from your phone bounced off the shattered glass in the windows, illuminating the decrepit interior and some leftover furniture before you moved on. Your steps were muffled as you moved slowly, heart pounding while you waited for something, anything to happen. You felt suspiciously like a rabbit being stalked by a wolf-- or wolves-- as you made your way through the trees. Branches cracked underfoot, causing you to wince, and you vaguely wondered where everyone else had run off to.

Bokuto had no doubt clung to Akaashi, wherever they went, and Atsumu was probably stalking Osamu and Kita, waiting for the perfect opportunity to scare them.

As if on cue, there was a loud shriek that ripped through the darkness, causing you to jump straight into salmonberry bush with a startled yelp before you began giggling. Your hands were shaking, the light wobbling as you fought to extricate yourself, only to freeze when the sound of more branches cracking came from somewhere near you.

Barely breathing, you listened as closely as you could for any voices, straining to hear anything.

After several long seconds, a soft voice reached your ears, causing the hairs to raise on the back of your neck and a thrill to shoot down your spine.

“Where are you, princess?” Oikawa sang in the dark, playful and amused. He was clearly still too far away, if he hadn’t picked up the light from your phone, and you quickly turned it off before he could see it.

You had no idea if Iwa was with him yet, but you had to get yourself out of the bush quickly and quietly, before you alerted them that you were there. Wincing at the rustling and crackling, you managed to stand up with only a few minor scratches on your arms and legs, stumbling in what you hoped was the direction of the pond.

Wherever you were headed, it was the direct opposite of the soft, cajoling voice behind you, but you made a mistake in tripping over the root a tree that was about to fall.

With a muffled yelp, you caught yourself on the trunk, but it was too late.

“I think we found her, Hajime,” Oikawa said, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“I think you’re right, Tooru.”

They were close, too close and, in a panic, you turned the light back on and took off into the trees, dodging trunks and leaping over logs and rocks. The sound of footsteps came from behind you, heavy thumping that never seemed to get any closer even though you knew they could easily outrun you.

You could hear them calling out behind you, laughter mixing with their words and spurring you to run faster even as they asked you to stop, to give up, to come willingly. Even though you trusted them, knew it was all a game, your heart still raced, your fight or flight instinct in high gear as you ran by the pond.

At the last minute, as you tried to decide which direction to go, they almost slammed into you from behind. Someone’s arms wound around you, causing you to let out a startled yelp that would have been a shriek had your throat not closed up on itself.

“Gotcha,” Oikawa whispered in your ear, though you realized it was Iwa’s arms around you when he came to stand in front of you. “Now for our prize.”

You were herded through the entrance to the Secret Woods by Oikawa’s hand around your wrist and Iwa’s on your back, heart still thrumming from a mix of adrenaline and exercise. The moonlight was filtering through the leaves overhead, the grass dappled with silver light around the edge of the pond where they stopped you.

“That was fun, princess,” Iwa whispered, wasting no time in pulling your shirt up and over your head. Sweat was beaded on your forehead and between your breasts, which were quickly freed from the confines of your bra. “Gave us a good chase.”

You could feel how hard he was already against your ass, chest heaving from exertion against your back.

Oikawa’s nimble fingers undid the button on your jeans, forcing them and your panties down your legs without preamble, pulling them off over your shoes. Your head tipped back onto Iwa’s shoulder, a breathy gasp breaking the stillness of the clearing when his fingers plucked your hardened nipples at the same time his cock slipped between your thighs.

“Already this wet for us, huh? Did that turn you on, being chased by us?” Iwaizumi whispered into your ear, fingers tightening on your nipples just shy of painfully. “Such an easy little slut, even if you pretend you aren’t.”

His head grazed over your clit for just a moment before Oikawa’s hand fisted in your hair, guiding you to bend over halfway.

“We don’t really have time to play, sweetheart,” he said, prodding the head of his cock against your lips. “The others will probably come looking for us soon, so be a good girl and open up for daddy.”

Iwa wasn’t going to dispute his words, even knowing Kuroo, Akaashi, and Bokuto were likely in a similar situation as you-- not when you whined so sweetly and wiggled your hips back against his cock like you were.

Your lips parted, allowing Oikawa to slip his cock into your warm mouth with a pleased moan, forcing himself as far as he could before you started gagging only to pull out and thrust back in, pushing further still down your throat.

“Give me your hands, princess,” Iwa demanded, wrapping them in an iron grip at your back, leaving you at their total mercy. Dragging the tip of his cock between your folds, he circled your clit a few times, smearing a mix of your slick and his cum around before nudging into your waiting pussy.

Your throat contracted around Oikawa as you tried to moan, tears springing to your eyes as Iwa sank to the hilt slowly, forcing your unprepped walls to stretch around him. Your toes curled in your sneakers, eyelids fluttering when his balls slapped against your throbbing clit. You couldn’t remember them ever being so rough or careless before, but it only made you wetter, tongue lapping at the underside of Oikawa’s cock in an effort to get more.

“You’re so needy, princess,” Oikawa cooed, voice strained and breathless as he pulled his hips back. Drool was dripping down his balls, no doubt smeared across your chin, but your eyes glowed in the moonlight, begging him not to stop.

Behind you, Iwa rolled his hips without pulling out, forcing his cock deeper, his head grinding against your cervix and the spot inside you that made your cunt spasm around him. “So good, taking my cock so easily. Our good little bunny, hm?”

“Our sweet girl’s really a little slut, isn’t she?” Oikawa teased, yanking on your hair to force it further back as Iwa’s hand came around your throat. “Bet she’d agree to anything, hm?”

You made a noise around him, tears spilling down your cheeks while Iwa groaned behind you, slamming his hips into yours at a near brutal pace. His hand tightened around your throat, squeezing just enough that your head spun. “Fuck, I can feel you in her throat.”

“Don’t stop, Hajime,” Oikawa moaned, head tipping back as his eyes shut. He was fucking your throat with abandon now, unable to stop the way he pounded into your throat when Iwa’s hand caused you to feel even tighter around him.

You were fluttering around Iwa, your head swimming from a lack of oxygen and blood flow, choking and sputtering around Oikawa’s cock. What little you could think of was reduced to the push and pull of your body on your partner’s cocks, of Iwa’s balls clapping against your clit and Oikawa’s against your chin. Teetering right on the edge of your orgasm, your back arched, silently begging Iwa to go deeper while you lapped at Oikawa’s cock mindlessly.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Oikawa announced, hips stuttering before he forced himself all the way down your throat.

At the same time, Iwa squeezed even tighter, driving himself right against the swollen bundle of nerves inside you with a snarled demand for you to come right now.

You did, legs trembling and wailing around Oikawa’s cock still down your throat, milking another spurt of cum from him as Iwa fucked you through your orgasm. Your head fell forward when Oikawa let go of your hair, drool spilling to the grass in strings before Iwa pulled you to stand straight up. Your head fell back to his shoulder, legs barely holding you up as he thrust into you a few more times before sinking his teeth into your shoulder and cumming with a muffled groan.

Oikawa was the first to recover while Iwa continued to keep you on your feet, his head hidden in your neck while he caught his breath.

“You alright, princess?” Oikawa asked as he cleaned your face as best he could, wiping away the excess drool with his shirt. “We were a little rough…”

“‘m okay,” you rasped before clearing your throat. “That was...amazing.”

Iwa chuckled behind you, placing a smattering of kisses over the teeth marks in your skin. “That’s our girl. Can you walk?”

“That will have to be determined,” you teased, taking your shirt from Oikawa’s hands before he went looking for the rest of your clothes. “Don’t know if I wanna explain why you’re carrying me out of the woods.”

Your shorts and panties were placed in your hands, Iwa steadying you when you bent over to slip them on and tilted to the side.

“We’ll just tell them you sprained your ankle,” he suggested. He waited for you to stand up again before slipping his own shorts back on and his shirt over his head. As soon as he could see again, you were curling yourself into his chest, nuzzling at the base of his throat with a sigh of contentment.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me,” you said, and both of them burst out into laughter.

Several minutes later, with your hair a tangled mess and a limp to your walk, you stumbled out of the woods onto the path beside Kita and Osamu’s house.

They were there, along with Atsumu, and all three were looking at you with raised brows.

“You haven’t seen Kuroo or the others, have you?” Kita asked, raking his gaze over all three of you.

“Nah,” Iwa said, while Oikawa snickered behind his hand and you hid your face behind his arm. “But I don’t think we need to worry about them. I’m sure they’ll turn up.”

Atsumu burst out into raucous laughter while Osamu rolled his eyes and Kita covered his face with his hand.

“I think we’re gonna head home. It was fun, but we need to shower. Sakusa was right, the forest is filthy,” Oikawa said, hiding his smirk behind his hand still.

Atsumu wiggled his eyebrows as you turned, calling at your receding backs, “I doubt that’s a problem for you three.”

He received a wink from Oikawa over his shoulder before the three of you disappeared up the path back to the farm.

“Too bad I couldn’t convince Sakusa to come. Seems the woods are lucky tonight.”

“‘Tsumu, you are so gross.”

⇥ masterlist

⍣ stardew: tilted | next: manhunt: redux

#iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader x oikawa #haikyuu x reader #.tiltedseries

163 notes · View notes

be-ace-write-crime · 4 years

Text

Lovely Bride - Third Wedding Night

Only one pillarman left who's trust you'll have to win more than any other. Unfortunately Kars may be your greatest challenge yet. You woke up having no idea how much time had passed, but you knew for sure you weren’t in the same bed. The single candle by your bedside was on a different table and these black silk sheets were not the ones you had buried your hands in when Esidisi made love to you last night. Also the light of the candle only reached the one wall the table and the bed were set up against, meaning this room had to be bigger than Esidisi or Wamuu’s rooms.

“You’re finally awake.”

The level, indifferent voice of Kars breaking through the quiet darkness made you jump, sitting upright in the bed, sheets pulled up to your chest.

“It’s only me,” he remarked, stepping into the light so you could see him. That put your mind at ease a little, but not completely. Of all the pillar men, Kars still scared you. He had a calculated coldness about him that overshadowed his more human side, which you had only caught glimpses of.

“Good morning,” you murmured, for lack of anything better to say. “Lord Kars,” you quickly added, bowing your head.

“It’s evening, actually,” he said, giving you an amused smile as he came to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning in close. You naturally pulled back upon having him enter your personal space, but with practically nowhere to go you just pulled the covers up until you were almost hiding like a child. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

You considered the question. You weren’t hurting anywhere. You considered how you were feeling emotionally and your barely awake self quickly dropped that hornet's nest and decided to ignore it for now. “I feel fine, master,” you answered.

“Good. You may go out if you wish. You may sleep here as well. I rarely do. I have no intention of consummating our marriage with you tonight. Enough damage has been done to you already,” he said.

You felt a slight sting upon his dismissal and couldn’t keep your mouth shut. “What do you mean by damage? You were the one to suggest Wamuu be my first…”

“I did, but I didn’t expect him to be so careless I would be asked to abandon my work in the middle of the night to rearrange your insides after you had fallen unconscious. Nor did I expect Esidisi to bring you into his bed and do the same thing,” he answered, sounding and looking obviously annoyed. Your eyes went wide and he chuckled dryly. “What? Didn’t you find it strange to awaken without a hint of pain after laying with a pair of gods, little one?”

“I did… a little… I didn’t know you’d had to…” you trailed off, cheeks burning.

“Esidisi brought you here, covered in blood, which thankfully turned out to be his, at least mostly,” he said, cupping your cheek and looking into your eyes as if he were searching for something. You held his gaze, like a deer facing headlights, until he spoke again. “He asked if I would consider giving you the antidote now,” he said, which made you perk up, but his expression remained unreadable. “I will not allow you to die, but you won’t receive the antidote from me just yet,” he answered, which made your heart sink.

“M-May I ask why…?” you whispered.

“As it stands that ring is the only thing binding you to me. I am not prepared to give it up. Not yet,” he responded.

“You have my word,” you said, clutching your sheets a little tighter. Kars shook his head, unmoved, but his eyes softened somewhat.

“Perhaps I could present you with something else to show you my trust? Stand up,” he ordered, standing up himself. You could feel your face burning with embarrassment as you stood before him, naked as the day you were born.

He gently tipped up your chin and kissed your lips and you relaxed thinking that was it. You should really know better by now.

“Don’t flinch, just breathe,” he ordered softly, and before the meaning of those words could register in your brain you felt a stabbing blow right to the center of your chest, knocking all the air out of you. Your eyes went wide and you fell into his arms, trying to push him off at the same time as if it might give you more room to breathe.

Your husband stood over you, studying your reaction and drawing back his hand. He’d just about stabbed you with his pinky, forcing all the muscles in your chest to contract, and you couldn’t fight this reflex, desperately attempting to force breath into your aching chest to no avail.

Teary eyed you fought to draw air into your lungs, all your strength focused on the singular task until you were finally rewarded with the blissful feeling of air flooding your lungs, chest expanding and your extremities tingling as your oxygen was finally replenished.

Kars reached for you and on reflex you slapped his hand away, once bitten, twice shy. To your horror your hand striking his left a large, blistered mark, like you’d shaved off the skin with a burning hot razor. He looked as surprised as you that you’d done it, looking at you with wide eyes. He regained his bearings more quickly than you, smirking and licking his wounds before they healed completely, as if they had never been there.

“I’m glad to see you so lively, but try not to do that again,” he warned you.

“I-I’m sorry, lord Kars! It won’t happen again!” you declared, bowing your head. Still the warmth like sunlight shining from inside kept radiating from within you.

“I studied the scrolls you brought back. Much trivial history and things we had already learned firsthand about your tribe, but this here struck my interest. A means to awaken one’s latent Hamon abilities,” he explained, taking a pitted grape from the basket Esidisi had collected for you and placing it in your hands. The pit sprouted in your hands in the complete darkness of the catacombs. “If the sun is half as bright and wonderful as you, my love, then every second we spent in darkness will have been worth it,” he whispered.

You looked down, awestruck. You’d seen some warriors forcing already budding flowers into bloom to impress girls before, but this seemed far beyond that. Probably since Kars just awakened your powers, you assumed, but you were glowing with excitement nonetheless.

“Get dressed. You are free to practice in both your healing and combat as you see fit. I have much left to do and as night falls Esidisi, Wamuu and I must depart in our search for the stone,” he instructed, tossing you a small bag from the side table behind your basket.

“Y-Yes, thank you, lord Kars…” you said, quickly taking the clothes from the bag and figuring how to put them on. You were surprised to find the soft, black garments to be a two piece set in a similar style as what your husbands preferred to wear. It provided solid covering for every part that really needed it, with translucent silk draped lavishly down your legs like a loincloth, giving the illusion it was only a dark shadow protecting your modesty underneath, as it left your legs clearly visible.

You combed your hair and arranged the jewelry Kars had added to the bag to match, blushing madly. A prostitute would not have dressed so daringly in your little village, and you could feel Kars’ eyes on you like a predator watching its prey. Thankfully Esidisi had left you your dagger and its sheath, which you attached to the waistband of your new attire.

“I wanted you to have this, as you are one of us, but I trust I won’t have to tell you not to let any humans see you like this,” he said, taking the last item from your hands and placing it on your head. It was an elaborate piece of gold chains, coming together around your forehead with a teardrop shaped diamond charm.

“I won’t, master,” you said, face red, yet feeling oddly beautiful. It struck you that he could not have stolen or bought garments like these anywhere and they seemed to be fitted to your form perfectly, meaning either he commissioned this specifically for you, or he had made you these himself. The thought made you shiver, right as his fingers carding through your hair found the shell of your ear, tugging lightly at the lobe.

“If you’ll allow me, I would like to pierce your ears. Perhaps somewhere else as well?” he purred, making the shivers intensify tenfold. “Hmm, but not tonight. I have kept you here long enough and I have things to do before night falls.”

“Yes, master,” you said, taking your candle and your basket. Kars turned around to retreat back into the darkness, most likely to some kind of workspace you couldn’t see. Hopefully you could spend some time with him just before dawn when he returned. For now you would enjoy the sunset and a little snack, one of your private pleasures which you unfortunately couldn’t share with your husbands.

You weren’t sure where you were, but you noticed you were more sensitive to the vibrations around you as you wandered the underground halls. You slowed to a stop and rummaged through the basket, picking up the bottle of wine and a silver chalice cup, pouring to just below the rim and studying the ripples in the vessel carefully.

You also fully planned on drinking this later. Never mind you had just woken up, it was evening and you had reasons to drink. The more you watched the surface, the better you were able to read the ripples as it were. You could sense Kars in the room behind you, heavy footsteps of Wamuu and Esidisi above you, and several things… skittering all around.

One was getting closer, approaching, but hovering just outside the light of your candle. As you moved, it moved with you, stalking you almost.

“I know you’re there,” you called out to it, now a good ways away from Kars’ room, but not knowing if you were any closer to the stairs or not.

“It’s a bit early to be drinking, isn’t it, (Y/N)? Though I suppose it doesn’t matter when you plan to live as a spoilt, drunken wench, just like your mother,” a raspy vampire voice sneered, dropping from the ceiling and stepping into the light.

“What the…” you muttered, less fazed by the insults than you were by this vampire speaking to you, let alone speaking to you like that! You were their superior, although you had yet to put that claim to the test. This one didn’t seem too impressed by your status.

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Debauching yourself for the monsters that murdered our kind?!” the vampire hissed, prowling closer to you.

“I am doing what you people asked of me. Meanwhile you are one of the monsters that murdered our kind,” you responded, backing away slowly. You had the candle holder in your dominant hand, the chalice in the other. If you dropped the candle, you’d be in the dark, but you could reach for your dagger. If you dropped the cup, you’d still have the light, but you’d fumble with the dagger in your nondominant hand. You could cry out for help, but this vampire was close enough to be in the light of your flame and it would only need a split second to rip your throat out. It didn’t have to drain you of blood. It wasn’t cornering you just because it was hungry. This one had a grudge against you.

“Don’t provoke me, you disgusting little witch,” he sneered, still coming closer while you backed away. You prayed someone heard you. Your husbands, some other vampire looking to get in their good graces, but you could sense nothing. You weren’t sure how far their supernatural hearing range was, but clearly underground it wasn’t far enough.

Fear was messing with your breathing, making it shallow and weak. You hadn’t trained your hamon, barely knew how to use it at all, and even the faintest sparks of it died as you were almost hyperventilating.

“I don’t even know who you are,” you murmured, looking him up and down. His youthful face and physique were decidedly unfamiliar to you, but he must have been someone from your tribe or maybe some frequently passing merchant, but you drew a complete blank.

“I spent my entire life defending our tribe. I raised warriors by the dozens. I was the reason you had a home, only for you to whore yourself out to the monsters that killed the men who fought and died for you,” he growled under his breath and finally you recognised who you had in front of you and you couldn’t hold back a snorted laugh.

The ‘general’ of your village. He’d been old as dirt by the time you were born, and now he was older still, but the stone mask had restored much of his youth. He didn’t give a damn about the warriors he raised, and he sure as hell didn’t respect them the way your husbands did. He became a vampire by choice, betraying your people, eating them, to save his own skin.

“Right… You abandoned our tribe and begged for mercy, at the cost of their lives , but you call me a traitorous whore?!” you demanded, feeling a flare of vindication at the furious look on the bastard’s face. He was going to murder you, but knowing you got under the self-righteous bastard’s skin was worth it a dozen times over

You were out of time. With the vampire exactly one giant leap away from you, you dropped the candle, the little flame snuffed out by the fall. In a fluent motion you grabbed your blade, catching the gleam of the monster’s teeth right before all went dark around you. He tried to trick you, waiting a split second in the dark so that your reflexive swing would miss and he’d have a clear shot at your throat. What your bloodsucking enemy hadn’t realized was that you had been reading his movements with the ripples in your cup this whole time.

That brief little taste of revenge over the proud bastard looking down on you pushed down your fear enough to get your breathing under control, loading your dagger up with hamon and slashing with every ounce of strength you had.

For a moment you thought you missed, feeling no resistance, waiting to feel claws and fangs shredding your flesh, letting out the blood curdling scream you’d been choking on since that glorified leech first stepped into the light of your flame, but nothing happened.

You were breathing hard, and finally your scream seemed to have drawn your husbands’ attention. Kars was the first to catch up, Esidisi and Wamuu flying down the stairs at the end of the long hall. Esidisi’s flaming aura bathed the stone hallway in light, and you could see what you’d done as Kars locked his arms around you and jumped back with you held flush against his chest.

Your knife had gone through him like he was made of paper, burning him up with hamon. One of his arms hung charred and shriveled up at his side and a massive, smoldering gash had opened up from his shoulder, burning up his throat and going all the way across his chest.

“Are you alright, (Y/N)? What happened?!” Wamuu demanded, a stiff breeze coursing through the underground halls and the wires of his headgear dancing around his temples.

You swallowed, looking down at the vampire who’s eyes were now wide with fear, trying to shake his head, a plea for you not to tell them. As if you would treat him any more kindly than them.

“Please let go…” you murmured. Kars shook like letting go physically strained him, but did and tried to check if you were injured in some way he hadn’t noticed and was hurting you, but you shrugged off his concern. “Thank you, my masters… for the freedom and power you have given me… so that I can kill this hypocrite whore myself!” you yelled, landing a near perfect hamon kick against the side of the vampire’s skull. It exploded like a bag of dust being kicked, the rest of its body falling limp on the floor.

“Did it attack you, (Y/N)?” Esidisi asked. It was hard for them to believe. Their vampires were obedient, but it wasn’t impossible, and certainly more likely than their bride going haywire like this.

“No, it was coming in for a hug! Yes, he attacked me. He said I was…” you sniffled, still instinctively wanting to hide your tears, even in front of Esidisi and Wamuu. You looked back at Kars, who you could only guess was shaking with rage, and you regretted being a smartass with your comments again. “I’m sorry for my outburst, but…” you weren’t sure what else to say.

Without exchanging another word, Esidisi torched the corpse and Wamuu scattered its ashes as if it had never been there. Kars dragged you back into his arms, hugging you tight enough that some joints in your back popped.

“They can’t be trusted…” the eldest of the pillar men muttered, his glare focussing on his two companions. “Get rid of any vampire that was once a hamon user. I will not have our bride endangered within our own home,” he said, with barely restrained rage as he hoisted you into his arms and turned around to take you back to his room.

“Master… There are so many. It’ll be next to impossible to-”

Esidisi was cut off when his master half turned and screamed loud enough to hurt your ears. “THEN KILL THEM ALL!”

You were trembling like a leaf in his arms. Esidisi and Wamuu looked conflicted at each other before bowing and responding in unison.

“Yes, lord Kars!”

Kars took you back to his room and the oppressive darkness was less frightening in his arms, but in the dark you could hear his fangs grinding together, his frustrated, snarled breathing, and the distant screams of his vampire army being slaughtered in the pitch black caves.

“What happened?” he eventually asked. “I let you out of our sight for two minutes…”

“I’m sorry, lord Kars…” you whispered, wiling your voice to stay calm. “I guess it held a grudge towards me for… marrying you and being allowed to live…” you tried to explain.

“I understand that,” he responded tersely. “But WHAT. HAPPENED?!”

“I was able to sense him stalking me in the dark. I called out. He insulted me, my mother and the warriors of my tribe and I responded in kind… He leapt at me and I cut him with the dagger Wamuu let me have… I dropped the candle and lost control of my breathing, so I couldn’t pinpoint him in the dark and screamed and… You know what happened after that…”

“Stupid fragile human…” he muttered, making you cringe. He laid you back down on his bed and laid there with you, keeping you locked tight against his chest. “I won’t allow you to die. I will conquer the sun, the earth and all its wretched creatures if I must. I won’t let you be taken from me.”

You shivered, hiding your face against his chest. The soft mattress dulled the vibrations and this deep into the temple’s catacombs you could scarcely hear the dying screams, the crackling flames and roaring winds.

Without the vampires, who would search for the stone? How could you possibly uncover the treasure they had searched for all these centuries without the hundreds of undead that made up their army to act as their eyes and ears? Was this your fault? Would you be forced to part with your beloved in a month’s time because they could never find the stone at this rate?

It felt like an eternity, but in less than an hour it was done. Kars seemed to know when it was over, picking you up and cradling you gently against his chest as he carried you back, through the halls, up the stairs and eventually into the cool evening air. You could see the ash stained clothes of vampires who would rather take their chances against the sun than die at the hands of their masters. You remembered vividly the general’s face as your foot collided with his skull, skin burning up like a paper mask, flesh tearing and crumbling like burned up charcoal, before the impact splattered the ash like remnants into the air. You could visualize it in slow motion in your mind.

You felt proud. What you’d done was incredible! You’d never imagined you could achieve something like that, and just in the nick of time. At the same time you felt guilty. Not for the act itself, but for feeling proud of something that would inevitably snowball into such a mess.

“It is done, lord Kars,” Esidisi said. You could tell he was every bit as tense as you were, hanging back out of his master’s striking range, although he still smiled to comfort you, and so you smiled back.

“Well done, both of you,” Kars said, sitting on his throne, still holding you as he looked out over the valley. The lights of your village were still dark, and the stars were so much brighter for it, but even their twinkling was of little comfort to you right now.

“If I may say so, my lord. Our dear bride defended herself admirably,” Wamuu said, your smile widening into a grin. Wamuu admired strength above all things. Even if fighting a vampire might have been a small feat to him, he knew you had done something truly incredible in defeating such a powerful opponent.

“She shouldn’t have had to defend herself in the first place…” Kars remarked, dampening your mood again.

“You said I was free to train in combat as I saw fit just minutes before it happened…” You pointed out. Your stomach was in knots already and had been for the better part of an hour. By then you’d rather get it over with and have him snap than to endure his quiet, simmering rage.

“I meant for you to practice, perhaps spar with one of us or some of those pests who would actually obey and protect you. You realize you were inches from death?!” he demanded, fisting a hand in your hair, making you wince.

“I have been inches from death since you and those pests came here! I could have been eaten weeks ago and every second I have been here! I killed the only pest that mattered and you just-”

“Enough!” he yelled, striking at the cracked armrest at his side, shattering it completely. There was dead silence all around. “Be more mindful… of your mortality, little one…” he breathed. His eyes were blazing red and his mane seemed to bristle like that of an angered beast. You nodded as best you could with the iron grip on your own hair, which he eventually released. You didn’t need to be told to get off his lap, you got the hint, watching with teary eyes as he shook off the strands he had pulled out of your scalp.

“We’ll be back by morning,” Kars announced, disappearing in a flash. Esidisi helped you stand, and Wamuu pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“You truly fought as brilliantly as the shining dawn, beloved. We shall be with you again before the first light of sunrise,” your first husband whispered, before they too were forced to depart. You nodded and bid them good luck in their search, waiting until you were sure they were out of sight and earshot before angrily kicking the ash stained rags and pebbles around.

“As if that ring you forced on me does too little to remind me what an untrustworthy little mortal I am, lord Kars! I am thoroughly humbled by your gracious gift of conditional mercy! I shall happily bear the weight of my bastard father’s deceit of thee, great and all knowing gods!” you rambled, heading down the mountain with a torch, since there was nothing left to harm you now. People knew not to tread near your village and the monsters haunting it and all the vampires were now gone. At worst you might encounter a wild animal, but those were easily chased off with a torch. Your village lay abandoned still. You felt a wave of guilt as some pets your people held flocked towards you upon seeing you, in search of food and care. Determined to be a better master than Kars and swallow your anger for now, you went around tearing open pantries and food stores. It wouldn’t last them long, but before the time on your ring ran out some humans would realize the structures had been left uninhabited and most of them would find new homes with new owners. Your food back at the temple had gone to waste in a cloud of corpse you kicked up, so for the first time in days you cooked yourself a proper meal.

Releasing the livestock would kill them, so you dutifully went around feeding them too. The sheep and the pigs and the handful of goats and cows and eventually the horses.

Many warriors kept magnificent horses. They were a point of pride and you found them just in time as many were ready to hurt themselves on the fences or stables enclosing them in search of food.

One that caught your attention most was Aries, the big black war-horse that had killed two people in the marketplace once. It was known to be an absolute nightmare, held in check with sharp spikes on its bit and sharper strikes from its master’s whip.

It was a beautiful horse, but it seemed to bristle at your very presence. You laid out food for the huffing and sputtering creature and opened the stable door, jumping aside as quick as you could. It would be both cruel and dangerous to try to herd it back into the stable again, so you decided he might as well roam free. If someone more daring or less cautious than you tried to tame it later, that would be their concern.

You did the same for any other stabled horses, hoping they would be able to live the long and healthy lives they deserved in freedom.

You gathered a new basket of supplies and with a sour expression you headed back up the mountain to await your husbands’ return.

For a while you were able to ignore the steady hoofbeats behind you, though they were easier to sense than any vampire, but after a while it got too close to be a coincidence and you searched the darkness with the light of your torch, which was nearing its end. You could just barely make out the gracefully trotting black mass, its fur shiny in the firelight.

“Aries, no. This is for me. There’s more food down there,” you said, noting the behemoth was more calm now that it had eaten. “Here, last little snack, then go run,” you said, feeding him an apple, which he took without biting or fussing.

It was obvious it was following you and you tried to stop an obvious idea from forming in your mind, but it was too late.

“The moment I put a saddle on you, you’ll kick and stagger, injure me and enrage lord Kars. You were not made to be ridden, and you were most definitely not made to pull a cart,” you told him sternly, only to have him rub his giant head against you like a massive cat.

“I chose you,” the bastard seemed to say. “I chose you, so deal with the consequences.”

“Terrible, awful, murderous demon baby you are,” you muttered absently a while later as you were cautiously brushing down the massive horse, unable to keep the affection out of your tone. “Almost as bad as the terrible, awful, murderous demon husbands I married. I love you and I love them, but they talk about as well as you do,” you said. “I would have gladly helped look for the stone. I’d have gone out during the day and actually searched, asked people, anything. Instead I’m… Well I probably spent more time on my back than anything,” you noted, red faced as you dragged the heavy saddle out for Aries to see. He neighed and you slowly put on his blanket first. Then the saddle.

“Maybe I won’t be there to wait for him come morning. Make him worry while he hides in the shade another day,” you said, laughing at the stupidity of it. You weren’t going to do that. It’d be suicide. “More likely you’re about to throw me and break my limbs and then after Esidisi is going to laugh at me for being stupid, Wamuu will carry me around like a wounded bird and Kars will mope around sneering about what a stupid, fragile human he picked up,” you said out loud, taking a deep breath and using your hamon to boost your strength as you hoisted yourself onto his back.

“So far so good…” you whispered, stroking his neck. “I wonder where they are right now. The capital, or some port city, no doubt. You know I’ve never seen the ocean before, have you?” you mused, daring to spur him into a trot with a light squeeze of your calves. You had no reigns. He’d snapped and backed away when you only just approached with a headpiece, so that was out of the question. You’d ridden an old little pony without reigns as a child, though this hardly compared. “The ocean is less than twenty miles away. You could make that in a day, couldn’t you, Aries? Or a night… We’d ride past the capital too. We could search for lord Kars’ dumb stone,” you said, steering him through the desolate streets of your hometown with light kicks and tugs on his mane.

You really weren’t dressed for riding, but you had some proper riding clothes in your old home. You wouldn’t be back before sunrise, if you made it at all, and you had never traveled this far outside your village before. It was madness, but a heady mixture of fear and spite was urging you on.

You already had that cursed ring that promised you a swift ending. Why should you spend thirty days as a plaything if Kars wouldn’t commit to sparing you now?

You were already putting on your hardiest clothes over the more delicate ones you had been given and mounting your horse again when you realized you probably wouldn’t have been able to mount Aries in the first place without your hamon. The gift Kars had given you to show his trust and how he never showed the barest hint of anger when you struck him.

He wasn’t mad at you. He was almost forced to face an eternity without you and it distressed him to the point of lashing out.

“Maybe I’ll ask Lord Kars to accompany us to the ocean when he comes home this morning.”

“Good morning,” Kars’ calm voice still startled you and your reaction startled Aries, who stomped and huffed angrily.

“Good morning, lord Kars,” you said, trying to shush the horse. Kars watched you quietly while you calmed the giant you had brought back to the temple.

“You’re quite good at that,” he noted, coming up behind you. You quirked a brow and looked back at him, waiting to see if there was something more to that statement or if it was some kind of joke you didn’t understand. Yesterday he wouldn’t acknowledge an expert kill you made, but now he was complimenting your skills with a horse? “You have a calming air about you. It puts me at ease. Your animal compatriot senses it too. I feel a sense of contentment when you’re near that nothing else brings me,” he explained and you bit your tongue to hold back another snarky remark pointing out he didn’t exactly seem calm last night.

“Please forgive my behavior last night. I meant no offense by my words and I realize your aspirations have now suffered on my behalf. You destroyed your army to keep me safe after one soldier threatened me and your search for the stone-”

“Ssshh, my sun. No sacrifice is too great for you,” he assured you, pulling you close. “The thought of being helpless to protect you while you’re out in the sun vexes me to no end. Tonight I almost lost you when I let my guard down and I could never forgive myself if I… we had lost you forever due to my carelessness…” he explained, enveloping you in the same desperately tight hold that kept you pressed firmly against him while his army was slain. “My frustration was never directed at you… and tonight gave me some time to realize that the only reason you are alive, was because I gave you the freedom to fight back and to keep you as a caged bird at my side would not serve to keep you safe,” he went on, pressing a small vial into your hand. “The antidote.”

You smiled and reached back, carding your fingers through his hair. Gods, it was beautiful enough to make you jealous.

“Thank you for trusting me, master. I shall keep it with me, until you find the stone,” you said. He exhaled sharply, taking the hand that was combing through his hair and kissing it.

“Let me take you to bed, beloved. I cannot wait any longer,” he breathed.

“Let me take care of Aries. The sun is almost up. I shall join you shortly,” you said, releasing a rather undignified noise when you were picked up and thrown over his shoulder instead.

“Wamuu, tend to our beloved’s new pet,” he ordered. You saw Wamuu appear from the shadows in the pale of dawn, smiling at you and his master, then full on grinning at Aries.

“You have chosen a magnificent steed, dear (Y/N)! I shall be glad to assist in its care,” he announced. “I am also glad to see you and lord Kars have reconciled.”

“Ah, wait! He can be quite violent, but he’s good to me. Don’t hurt him!” you called out as you were carried away.

“Is she talking about Wamuu?” Esidisi asked, only just arriving as you were carried past him.

“She is talking about a horse she brought back. Get inside, Esidisi,” Kars answered, walking faster when Esidisi snorted a laugh.

“I have not seen you retreat to your sleeping quarters with such urgency in millennia, dear Kars,” he called after you two.

You were thrown onto his bed again. It had to be his, because it was so soft and also you bounced twice without falling off the other side.

“How dare you wear so many clothes?” he asked. Now you were not familiar with their language in the least, but you were fairly confident this roughly translated into: “You have until I am on top of you to get those clothes off and whatever is still on you is getting shredded.”

“I needed something to wear when riding Aries,” you explained, getting your old clothes off, as well as the silk bottoms of the two piece attire he’d gifted you, which you were still wearing underneath. You could sense some movement a little ways away from you, then a bright rain of sparks as Kars dragged some kind of blade against the stone of a fireplace, lighting a fire inside that grew steadily until you could finally see around the dark room. There was a dragon’s hoard of treasure laid out between the stone fireplace and the bed, glimmering in the dancing light of the fire. On the walls were enormous maps of places you had never even heard of before, some covered with pins and strings, detailing impossibly long journeys. In the corner was a desk that had to be as heavy as your newly acquired warhorse, covered in fine tools, rocks and white sand. No doubt he had been carving more stone masks, but didn’t he have enough of those already? You had a hundred things to ask about every corner of the room, but you were stunned silent and motionless at the most dazzling sight of all.

Kars usually wasn’t very fond of clothes, be it yours or for himself, but for tonight’s occasion even the minimal clothing he usually wore was too much. Bared naked except for his jewelry, he stalked closer to his darling prey on the bed, the smirk on his face telling he knew exactly what your awestruck expression was for.

“Those clothes might suit you for riding Aries, but you’ll have no need for them when riding me,” he purred smoothly, sharp fangs glinting as brightly as the jewelry adorning his regal features while he grinned down at you.

You gripped the soft, black sheets, wanting to touch, but unsure if it was allowed, like hovering by a priceless artwork. You weren’t sure if he meant it, or if he was just teasing you. He always preferred to be in charge with everything. Why would he choose a position that let you take the lead now?

“Y-You wish for me to…” you trailed off, not daring to repeat the phrase. He silenced you with his lips against yours, guiding your hands to comb through his hair and caress his perfectly sculpted form.

“Ride me. Take your pleasure and serve me as your lover and master. Give yourself entirely to me as my bride,” he reaffirmed, he was already hard when he guided one of your hands to stroke him. You were a bit more sure of yourself by now, knowing no amount of strength from you could seriously hurt or injure him. It helped that Kars wasn’t as monstrously thick as Wamuu had been and gripping as firmly as you could without impeding the slide of your fingers on his skin you managed to work your master’s hard cock in a way that made his painted blue eyes flutter shut.

“Yes, lord Kars,” you agreed breathlessly, coaxing him to lie back and let you get on top with just a small push. He looked up at you with a mixture of reverence and cocksure amusement, guiding you into another languid kiss before whispering his next command in your ear.

“I want you to use your mouth on me, beloved. Let me see your pretty, pink lips wrapped around my cock while you choke on it,” he said, his words making your stomach tighten with excitement. For any human men you might have found the act far less appealing, but for Kars you would happily oblige.

Your master’s dick was as unnaturally perfect as the rest of him. It was long, straight, the plump head flushed slightly darker and glistening with a smear of pearly white fluid. Your godly mate lacked all the smelly, hairy and sweaty human traits that might have made this unpleasant, leaving you with only the challenge of how you were going to fit something so massive down your throat as he intended.

You weren’t sure how to go about this, simply doing what felt most natural and awaiting more guidance. Licking up the salty, savoury drops of precum that had gathered at the tip and continuing to stroke his length, it occurred to you this was your first time doing this. Not just sucking him off, but this was the first time servicing one of your husbands. Wamuu and Esidisi had both taken charge and been the ones to pleasure you throughout the nights you spent with them, claiming and treasuring you.

Kars desired you no less than either of your previous lovers and would not be opposed to serving you in any way you liked, but this was what he truly wanted more than anything. To be the one being claimed and treasured and worshipped. Knowing that you desired him enough to take him and obey his every command was intoxicating to him and it showed in his adoring, half-lidded eyes, clouded with lust.

He tangled a hand in your hair and pulled you down, forcing you to take more and more into your mouth, and despite your best efforts, his pushing against your gag reflex on every stroke had you choking and sputtering, struggling not to use your teeth, even if it wouldn’t hurt him.

“Finding it hard to concentrate, my dear morning light?” he asked, licking his lips as he watched you. Even without touching you much more than a few kisses and petting your head, you were starting to get wet, squeezing your thighs together to hold out against your own needs until your master was satisfied. “Your hamon can numb the pain of your muscles stretching beyond their usual limits and restore any damage that might cause. I will make sure you are able to breathe. Stay focussed now, little one,” he ordered, bracing his legs more firmly against the bed and giving you a few seconds to breathe in deep through your nose and try and get your hamon under control before forcing you down all the way to the base of his cock. He moaned heavenly, throwing his head back and closing his eyes to revel in the feel of you. By all accounts this should have hurt, but you felt nothing aside from the slightly uncomfortable pressure of his throbbing length down your throat and the slight sting of him pulling your hair. Clutching his strong thighs for balance, you could feel the faintest tremble to them when you reflexively tried to swallow around the massive intrusion.

“Centuries I thought no creature aside from us could ever be truly perfect… How wrong I was, my beautiful sun… I may be immortal, but it is you who is truly divine…” he praised, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “So good for me, my dear… Hmm, but I did promise to let you breathe, didn’t I?” he mused, letting you come up for air, pulling back to gasp for breath with threads of saliva connecting your pretty mouth to his dick.

“I know it’s a little overwhelming the first time, but you’re doing so well. You’re so wonderful and tight,” he praised, wiping tears of exertion from your cheeks and letting you breathe until you were ready to continue.

With their immortal bodies and stamina, the pace and strength levels humans fucked at were rarely sufficient for your husbands, who preferred to ravish you at their pace. Kars was taking this slow though, savouring the feeling and the sight of you sucking his cock all the way down, shyly meeting his gaze from behind teary lashes between his thighs.

“I’ll have Esidisi teach you properly sometime. You’re so eager to please,” he cooed, stroking your cheek as you tried your best to bob your head and take him down all the way. Honestly if the men from your tribe had even considered this use for hamon, you were sure all women would have been made to master it. Not that you would have cared to do this a second sooner or for anyone else.

The smooth glide of your master’s cock against your tongue, his hands in your hair, the subtle tremor in his voice when he spoke to praise you, all of it only served to drive you mad with want.

“Mhmm, so good to me, my darling,” he said, his voice a deep rumble that sent a spike of arousal straight through you as you were pulled up into another kiss. His cock, slick with your spit, brushed almost teasingly against your warm folds like a whispered promise of the pleasure you had come to crave. Pleasure you knew only your husbands could provide.

“Lord Kars… I can’t wait anymore. Please~?” you pleaded shamefully, grinding against his hard length and feeling it pulse in time with the instinctive rutting of his hips against yours.

“I gave you my permission to serve me, my precious (Y/N). I’m not stopping you now,” he said, gesturing at his flawless body with a smirk. “You will take your pleasure from riding me like the voracious mortal bitch you are. You will worship me with every whimper and cry from your lips. You are mine to cherish and adore until the end of time itself,” he purred, pulling you close and tipping your chin up like he was posing you for some erotic masterpiece.

You swallowed and looked down. You could scarcely imagine getting all of that inside yourself smoothly, let alone riding him the way Esidisi and Wamuu had taken you. Whining about that wouldn’t get either of you off though, so with another deep breath you lined up the head of his cock with your entrance and aided by the new trick you had just learned you dropped back down into his lap in one movement.

You were rewarded with the sight of your master throwing his head back, groaning and squeezing your hips hard enough you’d have bruises with his fingerprints by the end of your rendezvous. Good healing practice, he would likely tell you, though you wouldn’t mind showing them off.

“Perfect… Just perfect for me,” he growled, licking his lips while you adjusted to his size and steadied your breathing. “You are so good to me, my sunshine…” he praised, biting his lip while his hands wandered across your trembling thighs. “Oh, don’t stop now, my darling. I know you have so much more to give me,” he said, edging you on to move already. “Worship me on your knees like the first night you came to me. Ride me like your precious stallion~”

“My stallion isn’t even this big. You must be joking!” you huffed, already bracing yourself on his chest with both hands for support as your legs were shaking. Kars looked surprised for a moment, fighting a smile tugging on his lips and quickly covering his mouth to hide a genuine laugh.

“Cheeky little thing,” he chided, clearly amused and slightly smacking one of your cheeks on his lap in reprimand. Well, lightly for him. It was like a whip strike to you, making you clench down hard on his cock where it was buried deep inside you. “I suppose your inexperience is the price of your innocence. It doesn’t matter when I’ll have eternity to teach you how to serve me properly,” he said, flipping you over and pushing your knees back until they almost touched the sheets.

“A-Ah! I’m sorry! P-Please be gentle with me! I’ll learn to serve you, please!” you cried out, already worried you were in for a punishment far more brutal than a little spanking.

“I gave you power, little one, but you have shown your only rightful place is underneath me. It is too late to beg for mercy now,” he taunted, grinding his massive dick so deep you were seeing stars. “Focus on your breathing now. I won’t repair you once I leave you broken and used. I’ll mold your insides to the shape of my cock and you will remember exactly who you belong to,” he warned.

You’d try. You’d try with all your might, but with Kars’ silver tongue whispering sweet promises in your ear and the head of his cock rubbing so tantalizingly deep inside your dripping pussy, breathing was becoming less and less of a priority.

He picked up the pace gradually, with you fighting to consciously breathe in a way that could keep the god between your legs from completely ruining your tight little cunt and keep you from passing out from the pleasure that had long since overpowered your common sense.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? What a hopeless little whore did I take for a bride. Just aching to be fucked by any one of us, aren’t you?” he asked, his hungry red eyed gaze sweeping over the sight of you taking his cock deep enough he could see it in your stomach. “I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll fuck you till your body is in ruins and your sweet, broken heart is content,” he groaned, losing himself in your sweet cries and tight heat until he felt your hand on his cheek.

“N-No… Lord Kars~” you whined, the faintest smile painting your lips. There was only one thing you truly desired. One thing, which he could give you that would leave your heart eternally content.

“ Worship me… ”

The words had just barely left your mouth before you could feel your lover seize up, legs pressed all the way back as he bit down harshly on your shoulder and flooded your insides with his release.

Gasping a final breath, you screamed to your lover, the gods and whoever else was left to hear it. Your precious mortal body constricted around him, milking his cock as if demanding more. Maybe he had been right about what you truly craved. What your body craved, at least.

You were exhausted, floating in the fuzzy post-orgasm bliss that would usually lull you to sleep quite quickly, but Kars’ warning rang clear in your mind. You could rest once you were sure he was satisfied.

In the meantime, you were still too exhausted to move, so to be let down and pulled into a hug was a pleasant surprise.

“Don’t you know I already do, my love?” he whispered. Your mind was still swimming in a tide of pleasure, making it hard to connect those words to the correct context. “You have served me well. You may rest now,” he said. That was all you needed to let the siren call of sleep pull you under, cuddled up safely in your master’s arms.

You woke up many hours later as the sun was just setting, but Kars had already carried you to the shaded side of the mountain where he was safe. You weren’t quite sure how he’d gotten you there, but you figured there were likely some tunnels in the catacombs you did not know about. You’d have plenty of days to explore at your leisure without vampires there.

Kars leapt swiftly around the steep hillside, and up the steep cliffs of the much larger mountains lining the valley.

“Where are we going?” You asked with a soft yawn, drawing Kars’ attention.

“You’ll see,” your husband told you with a small smile.

“I want to go to the ocean,” you said, only half awake, earning a chuckle.

“Close. But if you want, I can take you there. Just not tonight,” he said. You looked up the mountain you were ascending, growing slightly worried when you saw smoke rising from the top.

“Is this safe?” you asked, clinging to Kars’ shoulders. It was getting colder. These mountain peaks were tipped with snow, even in the summer months, and you were only wrapped in a sheet you recognised from the bedroom you shared.

“You’ll always be safe with me, my dear,” he assured you, slowing to a stop by the source of the smoke. Wait, not smoke, just steam. A small spring on the uninhabited mountain top had been heated to the point of steaming on the freezing summit.

Wamuu and Esidisi were already waiting for you, with Aries in tow. Wamuu had by some miracle tamed him to the point he stood resting peacefully in the shallows, letting your first lover pour water down his back to continue keeping him warm. Esidisi was half asleep, up to his chest in the clear spring water and before you could ask anything else you were unceremoniously thrown in, sheet and all.

You screamed and kicked to get back up, glaring at Kars.

“Never do that again!” you yelled, glad Aries had taken a shine to the wind god, as that obviously startled him.

“If you want to see the ocean, learn to swim,” Kars responded, casually taking off his clothes and jewels and putting up his hair before joining you.

“I can swim. I just don’t appreciate being thrown,” you argued, pouting. “And if the spring is heating up, doesn’t that mean this is a volcano?” you asked worriedly.

“It just means Esidisi is here,” Kars answered, handing you a comb and turning his head, the implication obvious. You wanted to huff and refuse, but no amount of pettiness could make you pass up a chance to play with his hair.

“I don’t like the cold,” Esidisi explained, the water near boiling where he sat a few metres away.

“A cold bath strengthens the spirit,” Wamuu interjected.

“Well you’re welcome to go roll in the snow over there,” his master responded, splashing the younger with a wave of hot water and soaking whatever clothes he was still wearing.

“Can you two stop behaving like children?” Kars asked, when Wamuu used his winds to splash him right back.

“Says the one who can’t be bothered to comb his own hair,” you teased.

“I’ll have you know, this is a privilege and not a chore. If you don’t want to, go play with your pet. Normally we’d have sent vampires to fetch clean water down the mountain, but now circumstances have forced our hands,” he explained.

“Ah, so that’s why,” you murmured, the black silk dancing unconcerned in the warm water around you.

“Don’t blame yourself, dear (Y/N). They would have become food eventually and we can look after ourselves and you,” Esidisi assured you, sitting up and stretching. You were momentarily distracted by watching the water run down his rippling muscles, following a particular drop run from his forearm, down his bicep to the swell of his pecs and a half amused scoff drew your attention back to Kars, who stood up to form a similar display.

“Unless that isn’t what’s distracting you?” he asked, smirking down at you.

“You have my full and undivided attention, my lord…” you said quickly, red faced due to more than just the water’s temperature. Although you couldn’t help but notice he had caught the attention of your other mates as well as yours with his little show.

“As it should be,” he said, letting his hair down and shaking off the excess water that caught in the ends. “The absence of our army is negligible in our day-to-day lives, but will greatly hinder our search for the stone. The last lead we have to go on was that the raw gem was brought down to Rome, where it was cut and sold,” he explained. “I’m not sure if the hamon tribe believed to be in possession of the correct stone, or if they meant to trick us, but our time was wasted chasing a smaller cut of the same gem.”

“They were wiped from existence, save for (Y/N) and her sister’s family. Seems like an awful long way to force a bluff,” Esidisi pointed out.

“What if the rest of the stone has been cut too small?” you asked, worry making your chest feel tight. You could sense your wedding ring still there, though it felt less oppressive now. Not nearly as oppressive as the deadline approaching.

“We interrogated the man who cut the stone. He said every time the light shone directly on it it nearly killed him or destroyed his tools. He cut a large flawless stone from the raw gem and two smaller ones. He did not dare cut them any finer. He sold them for a fortune to a merchant he did not know, as he wanted to be rid of the stones for good. He did not live to enjoy his fortune,” Wamuu answered, stroking Aries’ ears more to calm himself now.

“There is only one Aja that will suit our needs, but since being sold in Rome it could have been taken anywhere,” Kars said.

“The Aja draws attention. Not just for its looks. It’s ability to refract light makes it dangerous. Anyone trying to sell it would garner attention,” Esidisi said.

“If it refracts sunlight, they wouldn’t try to sell it at night. Especially if it got out what you’d done to my tribe,” you reasoned.

“Which is exactly where you come in,” Kars said, cupping your cheek. “You can embrace the light of day. You are human. You can help us search for the stone.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Yes, my masters.”

#kars x reader #kars #kars jojo #pillarmen #jojo's bizzare adventure x reader #wamuu x reader #esidisi x reader #chapter 3 #not sfw #reader insert

159 notes · View notes

acrowamongsparrows · 3 years

Text

Day 4 Accomplished/Macabre

His hand ran through the tall grass as he walked through the wood, a slight smile on his face as he felt the dew drops of early morning sticking to his fingers to slide among the scars of his trade. He was hunter and trapper, but not in the sense that many thought. When someone called for a hunter they expected a tall, meaty man covered in furs who spoke little and always had something monstrous to show of his prowess. David was different.

A beard was clear on his face but that only was due to the weather and how much Sara had been enjoying to play with it when the babe was in his lap. Margaret would roll her eyes and smile at her husbands as she busied with their quaint home full of a mixture of hand-me-downs and furniture from Lan Exeter. He was particularly proud of a looking glass he'd bought from a merchant ship from the south, there was something incredible of looking into heavens on a clear night. His family was poor in the eyes of the city but in the eyes of Markhor he was quite the upper class, to almost the extent of Buckenhall if he really wanted to be.

But there was the differences again, David was content. Not in a way that spoke of a man accepting his life, but true contentment and happiness in his small cabin with his girls. He was happy with his steady trade of hunting game and bringing it to the small market or Alina. He was happy to spend an evening in the Leaf, hear a wild tale, and go home to Margaret's arms or walk home hand in hand with Margaret when her mother could watch Sara.

Adjusting his half cape about his shoulders, David began to slow his pace as he peered between the weeds for his catch today. They said he had sixth sense for where the game was hiding, but truthfully he knew he was just patient and could be quiet. His gait grew even slower as he listened, no breeze which was good for him as it meant his scent stayed put. A shake of the grass to the right would bring him to a stop, slowly easing himself down to one knee and breathing in softly through his nose. With well practiced silence, David would slowly pull his crossbow from around his back to hand a bolt already held in place by a clip he'd imagined up himself. He was lucky Candell could forge such a small item and for little cost.

A finger gently moved the metal knob to the right and unlocked it before setting a bolt to the fire lane. David let his breathing grow softer and tell her near held it, craning his ears to the sounds nearby that he knew was his quarry. Speed and efficiency was the key if he hoped to bag his deer today, but knew that any false start or move could be just as disastrous.

Patience.

Patience was his power and he knew how to control it as he waited for one more move to pinpoint the exact spot of the deer's bed.

One breath. Two breath. Three breath. A shift in the grass as autumn decided it needed to let forth a sigh as much as him. A flash of yellow, a blink of black, and now he was pushing up to his feet.

One breath. Two breath. Three breath. The deer was rising, two short antlers rising as fast as him as the black glassy eyes of the deer locked with his own.

One breath. Two breath. Pull. The bolt flew straight and true, the skilled bowman's shot driving deep into the broadside behind the front let. Three breath.

The deer in panic and pain flew, it's heavy legs pulling it straight up and bounding into the tall grass as it caught the flecks of crimson from it's wound as it stumbled back toward the wood. David smiled as he followed the trail of blood, reaching back to reload his crossbow as he walked along behind it. Today was a good day.

Blood flecked the crushed weeds as they grew thinner and broke into the forest edge into the woods. Tuft of grass and scrape of dirt from a drug horn was only a few yards further, the beast was putting up quite a fight as he followed the trail of his prey. The blood was falling faster as he walked, thicker, and more frequent as he sped up his step further into the wood in fear of losing the thing to some other predator. Further he traveled that began to seem more likely what happened as he noticed the darker it grew the deeper he went after.

"You gotta slow down by now," murmured David as he stepped over a large rock and pressed on, noting a torn bit of fur to match the splatter of blood nearby. Still warm. "Where the hell are you going?"

The trees broke again as he marched onward leaving a soft clearing before a copse of trees loomed ahead. David came to slow halt as he looked up at those trees, they sat tall and still. Much like the air around him as he licked his lips and tried to hear something out there in the open air. Nothing. A feeling of dread sat in the pit of his stomach as he stood there staring at the trees. He should cut his losses and go home. They had plenty. Plenty of skins, meat, and money this wasn't worth it. But human nature was an animal unto itself as curiosity burned brightly through logic, springing forward with his loaded crossbow to investigate further.

The yards to the trees took seconds to reach, but the smell in the air hit him far before. Rank and earthy, like rotten meat as he coughed and lifted his sleeve to his mouth in hopes of saving him from the stench. It was like a tide of putrid ilk that was awful and familiar as he wandered these woods for years to know the smell.

Death.

It felt far to poetic to put it in terms like that in his head, but the thick air of stench made him want to vomit as he entered the gathering trees. His eyes falling over the trunks of the trees as he noted a strange tangle of dark veins rising from the earth to dig deep into their bark. They pulsed with an eerie almost breathing motion as he thought better of touching one, knowing his curiosity could only push him so far into this adventure. But he needed to find out what was going on, the village needed to know.

He should have turned back but the blood trail lead into the enclosure.

The circle of trees wasn't large but it felt thicker by the strange rooted trees surrounding the perimeter as David let his eyes move swiftly about for signs of the deer or the thief who had drug it so far. Maybe a wolf or a bear, it was the logical idea of what was out here. His booted feets gently slid through dead leaves, going silent and quiet as he could be in the face of this unknown foe. The crossbow resting in the crook of his shoulder as he looked about in the silent shadows, sweeping the area as he followed the trail. Crimson were dashed by brown and yellow leaves as the blood shined in the dark but were also framed by strange purple fauna.

Crouching down, David let his finger brush the face of one of the violet flowers but never picked it. It felt like any other flower but for some reason he recoiled from it's touch, as if there was something ready to bite him in the face of plain beauty. They felt wrong. Blooming, season, and abundance as he stood back up again to follow his bloody trail again. It felt like hours since he'd begun and by the deep shadows around him the sky was doing little to aid him in reminding it was only maybe early afternoon. Night ruled here.

The trail ended at the base of a tree, violet flowers spread about in a blanket of bright ground stars as they stared at him much as the eyes ahead of him did. So many eyes.

Crows rested in the many empty branches above, their white staring eyes regarding him in silent judgement at his presence within their hold. Where once leaves of green or even red and gold had sat now were the many feathers of the birds. Black and beyond counting, David could already feel his mouth growing drier and chest tighter as he felt a great warning coming from them as he stared up at them.

Run away. Run away if you can. Run away.

Swallowing hard, David pressed on the last few feet in the face of the carrion nightmare that guarded from above and let his eyes settle upon what they surrounded.

His kill lay on the ground before that great tree, but it had not even made it halfway here on it's own thanks to his original bolt. No the thieves were to be thanked for that.

Twisted, crouched, and eyes much like the crows above stared at him from now from below where they surrounded what he hoped was their meal. But that would need mouths. Teeth. Tongues. Taste. Only the blank broken animal skulls with black empty sockets leered at him with their flickering empty witch light. Hands like warped branches wrapped in thorns and vine to hold them split into what appeared as claws had obviously only been random bones split. The bones were clearly just as good to do their work as they carved and ravaged the carcass of his kill, splitting the fur and skin like a ripe tomato to spill the precious dying life of the deer into the soil beneath it. Greed was clear in that earth's hunger as the blood seemed to disappear as quickly as it spilled into the loose dirt. His deer was not the first to litter these monsters table as the jutting hunks of bone and sinew lay strewn about with purple flowers growing in the bed of corpses.

David found he was gasping now, the thick putrid air filling his lungs as his legs grew weak to the sight of the graveyard of the macabre. He wanted to look away from the eaters of the dead but only found his eyes widening as he looked beyond them to the base of the tree.

The picked apart face of men and women sat pierced and hung by the roots of the tree, their bodies splayed for all to see who could see. There was no blood left among those dried husks of humans as their bodies were twisted and pierced by the foliage all around only to leave the slow succor of their bones. Mouths wide in silent screams to match the holes of sharp beaks. An offering to those above still. There were to many faces in that tree.

One breath. Run. Two breath. Run. Three breath. David was running.

The black leaves above moved as one and the collective caw of their hunger rang like thunder to match an ominous high pitched hollow roar from the lungs of some long dead being.

The flowers continued to bloom.

#dwc2021 #day42021 #acrowamongsparrows.tumblr.com #day 4 #accomplished #macabre #david #deer #purple flowers #witcher oc #the witcher #roleplay

4 notes · View notes

hiddendreamer67 · 5 years

Note

I love the witch brother au so much? I think my favorite part is logan being a wolf and also Virgil's familiar, i love those two so much. But also patton baby i hope roman's hypoallergenic. Anyways, if you're still taking prompts would you consider showing us how virgil came to find his logan and/or how their relationship developed and their dynamic?

(I love this too and I will always take prompts for my witchy bois omg I got so into this again I just speed wrote this all this morning)

Read more of my writing at @hiddendreamerwriting!

————————————————————————————————–

It had happened one late afternoon in mid December. Virgil had just become of age, but it was hard to think of himself as any sort of capable witch when he couldn’t even cast a simple location spell.

Virgil grit his teeth, pressing his mittened hands together to try and form a flame to keep the cold at bay. It felt as though the spell did nothing, and Virgil’s feet still got soaked as he trudged through the snow that was knee high.

“Great.” Virgil muttered, shoving his hands into his armpits instead, hunching over against the howling wind. “Just great.”

He was going to die out here, wasn’t he? Virgil was such an idiot. Don’t worry Patton, it’s just a bit of juniper. I’ll be back by sundown. And now Patton was going to be worried out of his mind. Virgil was such a terrible brother, he couldn’t even keep them safe through the winter.

It was Virgil’s fault that they even had to come out into the woods in the first place; the village had not exactly been welcoming of a family of witches when Virgil accidentally spooked off the neighboring farm’s herd of horses. It seemed with every task Virgil took on, his magic always found a way to screw it up. He couldn’t even complete normal mortal tasks, like finding a simple sprig of juniper. Now Virgil was forced to cower home empty handed, if he even managed to make it home at all.

A howling different from the wind made Virgil come to a stuttered hault. He looked up, finding himself standing at the edge of a clearing. Standing in the center was a large wolf, fur grey to the point of being almost blue in the reflection of the snow.

The creature had already spotted him, looking over Virgil consideringly as if deciding if the witch was a threat. The rest of the world faded away, the wind quieting down as if watching with hushed tones, curious which predator would make the first move.

Virgil internally cursed, eyes darting around the tree line but never leaving the threat in front of him. Wolves always hunted in packs. How many were watching through the shadows? A good witch would have no trouble with creatures of the forest, and maybe even bend the pack to his whims. Frankly, Virgil wouldn’t be surprised if one wolf alone would be enough to overtake him and make an easy meal.

“I mean no trouble.” Virgil spoke up, hoping the magic edge to his voice would be enough to deter an attack. Yes, fear me, i’m definitely a capable witch who knows what he’s doing.

The wolf seemed unswayed with Virgil’s attempt at intimidation, giving Virgil an unimpressed look as it tilted its head to the side.

“Please, just-” Virgil cursed himself for showing weakness, shivering as his meager warmth spell continued to fade. “I just want to go home.”

Now, the wolf took a few steps away, turning its head to send Virgil a look. The wolf took another few steps in the opposite direction, looking back at Virgil again.

Virgil paused, his mind trying to process what was going on. From the body language alone, it was clear that the wolf wanted Virgil to follow, which despite the fact the wolf hadn’t shown any signs of aggression seemed like a terrible idea.

“I- no, I can’t play games.” Virgil huffed, wondering if this wolf was really just a large village dog that had also gotten lost. “I have to go home.”

The wolf gave a low growl, annoyed, and Virgil jumped. Perhaps it wasn’t a great idea to ignore the wants of what could be a magic and almost-sentient creature that wanted him to follow. Especially when said creature could easily tear out his throat.

So, hesitantly, Virgil stepped forward. He felt exposed in the clearing, and the eerie silence that had befallen the woods was no help. The wolf sat, patient, until Virgil could almost reach out and pet it (provided he wanted to lose his hand). Only then did it stand to lead the way once more, staying just a few paces ahead of Virgil despite the fact it could have easily outrun him through this snow.

Their progress was slow, and Virgil was keenly aware of the sun setting in the distance. Still the wolf made no motion to stop. It led Virgil in a straight line for the most part, every so often raising its nose and sniffing the air to ensure they were still headed towards the wolf’s destination.

“…you’re not a normal wolf, are you?” Virgil commented, beginning to put the pieces together. A shape-shifting fae, perhaps? Or an enchanted creature? Both would explain the apparent sentience, but neither would explain the wolf’s peculiar interest in Virgil.

The wolf glanced back at Virgil, and Virgil swore he saw an eyebrow raise as if mocking him.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Virgil nodded, still trying to figure out the wolf’s exact origins. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself, the early night air colder than before. “A-are we almost there?”

At the sound of Virgil’s teeth chattering, the wolf’s gaze seemed to turn pitying. He gestured with his nose, a bit forward to the right. Virgil started to follow the wolf in that direction, but this time the animal stayed at his side, seeming very intent on the way Virgil swayed with each step.

Virgil grimaced, his eyes shut tight as he fumbled to keep moving forwards. His feet felt as though they were made of solid ice. What he wouldn’t give to be back home, safely tucked in front of the fireplace with Patton curled at his side…

As if reading his thoughts, the trees suddenly parted, revealing the hut Virgil now called home. The witch let out a surprised gasp, which manifested itself as a small cloud in the chill atmosphere.

“How…?” Virgil turned to ask the wolf how it had known, but suddenly the creature was dashing back into the dark cover of the forest. “H-hey! Wait!”

“Virgil?!” Virgil’s attention was once again torn back to the hut, where a worried Patton was silhouetted in the warm door frame. The younger witch came rushing out, hurrying to help Virgil inside. “Virgil, what happened? You’re freezing.”

Virgil allowed himself to be guided inside, but his mind wandered back to the wolf. Would it be alright, alone in the woods? Of course it would, it was a wolf, if a peculiar one at that. Who ever heard of a lone wolf? A cruel irony, really, reminding Virgil how he himself had been exiled from his ‘pack’- er, village. Was that what happened? Had the wolf taken pity on him simply because Virgil was alone? He hadn’t gotten a chance to thank the creature for its assistance-

Virgil stiffened in the chair by the fire, his muscles tensing as all at once he realized what had happened. He had heard tales of gaining a familiar after he came of age, but Virgil had never considered himself enough of a witch for that to be true. Or when he did indulge that fantasy, Virgil always expected to be paired with a mouse or a toad. Something small and unassuming to prove he wasn’t a threat.

Instead, out of nowhere, Virgil seemed to have been gifted a magnificent beast. Not gifted, no, that implied that Virgil owned the wolf. He could never own something so powerful, and so tied to nature just like himself. But why a wolf? Virgil was more often a healer than anything else, despite his magic quirks. He was protective, defensive, but not aggressive. At least…he tried not to be, because he didn’t want to be feared. So what did having a wolf familiar say about him?

And more importantly, why did the wolf leave?

“Virgil?” Patton asked hesitantly, watching the elder witch rise.

“I think I need to find someone.” Virgil said cryptically, knowing Patton was still watching him as he headed to the door.

“Virgil, it- it can wait until morning-” Patton attempted to argue.

“I’ll only be a second.” Virgil pulled on his cloak once more. “I promise.” He had also promised to be home by sunset. He ignored the fact he was unsuccessful that time.

“But-!” Patton’s cry of protest was ignored, Virgil opening the door and immediately regretting his decision to go back in the cold. Still he stepped out, shutting the door. A few lazy flakes of snow began to fall down onto his head.

“Okay, Mr. wolf, where are you?” Virgil asked to himself, stepping forwards a few paces.

He didn’t need to go far. Out of the shadows the wolf emerged again, first its glowing blue eyes that looked ready to scold Virgil for coming back out. As it got closer, Virgil could see something was clutched in its mouth.

“So…” Virgil glanced down, suddenly hesitant. What if he was wrong about this? What if he just offended the most powerful wolf in the woods by claiming it was somehow Virgil’s servant?

But then Virgil knelt down, and the wolf nudged its offering in Virgil’s direction. A juniper sprig, just as Virgil had gone searching for in the first place. Virgil took it delicately between his fingers, reaching out a cautious hand to test his claim. The wolf did not recoil, in fact it leaned its head into Virgil’s touch.

Immediately Virgil felt a new warmth tingling up his arm, and he gasped at the feeling of the bond being formed. For a person with trust issues, the idea of breaking down his mental walls so quickly was almost startling.

The wolf seemed to react in a similar manner, giving a surprised sniff of its nose and a small shake of its head. Logan. Something in the back of Virgil’s mind told him. This is your familiar, Logan.

“Thank you, Logan.” Virgil smiled gratefully, scratching Logan behind the ear.

#sanders sides #witch au #platonic analogical #platonic moxiety #witch!virgil #witch!patton #familiar!logan #wolf!logan #wolf #wolves #woof #i love themmmmmm #i need more prompts of them plz

237 notes · View notes

redvoid-40 · 4 years

Text

Chapter 6: New Enemies

Fanfic title: ??? Word count: 2817 Fandom: Naruto Pairing: eventual Gaara x OC, cannon pairings Genre: Friendship, Adventure, Hurt/Comfort Warnings: None

And Gaara is here at last! It’s just a tiny bit but it’s there! :D Hope you enjoy this chapter! Let me know what you think about it!

(6 chapters already… plus the Happy Anniversary stand-alone. I guess I should make a Masterlist eventually”

Previous chapter / Next chapter

Ko-fi

After Team Seven returned to Konohagakure they had a week to rest and recover from their C-turned-A mission.

Since she had been mostly unharmed Shin used her free time to explore more her newfound sensitivity to chakra. From what she had observed during their mission, she was the only who had developed said ability and she couldn’t help but wonder. She thought of asking Kakashi or even Iruka about it, but both had been strangely busy those days so she ended up doing some solo training to practice it more.

She had thought of going to the library to do some research about it, but the mere idea of being in a room surrounded by books and scrolls all day was enough to make hives raise on her skin.

Deciding to focus on a more hands-on strategy Shin decided to try sensing and analyzing the chakra of the people in the village. However, she was quickly overwhelmed by their numbers and unable to focus on just one energy. So she decided to go to training grounds that were surrounded by nature, where she could focus on the chakra of the animals and plants around her. Sometimes Naruto would join her there, and these chakra-sensing sessions quickly turned into sparring matches. After those matches, once they were both too exhausted to keep going, Naruto would sometimes volunteer to be Shin’s guinea pig in her special training, allowing her to use his chakra as a focusing point to improve her sensing abilities.

On their last free day, Naruto had done a full functional circuit around her and Shin had managed to follow his every movement with her eyes closed, only by sensing his chakra.

“It’s kind of creepy, Shin-chan. It means you can kinda watch me use the bathroom since we live so close, believe it.”

Once their week off was over, Kakashi had summoned them for a team meeting early on the next morning.

Shin had grown so used to go to bed late in the night - sometimes early in the morning - and waking up in the afternoon that Naruto had to use the key she had given him in case of emergencies to invade her apartment and physically detach her from her bed.

—

However, their teacher himself had arrived a whole hour late.

“So sorry I’m late.” Kakashi spoke and from his tone alone Shin knew he wasn’t sorry in the slightest. “I got lost in the path of life.”

Shin felt like a zombie and could only watch in silence as Naruto demanded exciting missions from their teacher, barely registering one every two words the boy said.

Naruto-chan, how I wish I had your energy.

“Relax, Naruto. I’ll give your missions soon enough.” Kakashi said. “Before that though… Shin-kun! Can you wake up and hear me out?”

Shin startled at her name being called and only then noticed she was nodding off so bad she had a bit of drool falling from her slack jaw.

“Y-Yes, Kakashi-sensei!” The girl said, now wide awake and blushing furiously as she rubbed the back of her hand against her mouth.

“I need you to go to this address.” Kakashi said, offering her a piece of paper. “This is your mission for today.”

Shin took the paper from his hands, staring at Kakashi as if he had grown a second head.

“What?! How come only Shin-chan has a special mission?” Naruto complained. “Give me something too Kakashi-sensei! I’ll prove to you how much I’ve grown, believe it!”

“Naruto, I told you I had a mission for you three didn’t I? Learn some patience.” Kakashi said. “And you should get going Shin-kun. You’re already late, you know?”

Shin pouted at her teacher and quickly opened the folded paper to read the address in it. To her frustration the place was on the other side of the village.

With a sigh, Shin bid her friends goodbye and started to run towards the place.

—

It was well into the afternoon when Shin was dismissed from her… “mission”. And she couldn’t help the big smile stretching on her face as she made her way back. She hoped to find Naruto and the others on their usual after-mission meeting spot. She was so excited to tell them the news!

I can’t believe it! I wonder if Kakashi-sensei had the chance to talk to them yet? Ahhh! This is so great! I can’t wait to tell Naruto-chan! And Sakura-chan and Sasuke-kun as well!

To Shin’s glee, when she turned the corner she found Naruto and Sakura standing on a street together. To her surprise there were three others with them.

“Konohamaru-kun? Moegi-chan? Udon-kun?” Shin called as she approached the party. “What are you guys doing here?”

The trio smiled at seeing Shin andMoegi was quick to attach herself to one of her hands.

“Shin-nee! Nii-chan said he’d play Ninja with us today! Come play with us too!”

Shin was quick to smile and nod at Moegi. “Sure! But can it wait for a bit? There was something I wanted to talk abou-”

Shin noticed she had lost the others’ attention as Sakura approached. She stopped talking just in time to hear Konohamaru whispering to Naruto with a sly smile on his face.

“Tell us, Nii-chan. Is she your girlfriend?” The younger boy asked, obviously referring to Sakura.

Shin froze immediately. Oh boy, this won’t end well.

Naruto laughed. “Even you kids can see she’s crazy about me, huh?”

Shin’s jaw dropped as she stared at her soon-to-be-dead friend in disbelief. She couldn’t believe Naruto would gamble with his life like that! Once she recomposed herself, Shin turned to a fuming Sakura with the most disarming smile she could muster.

“Sakura-chan plea-”

Shin was unable to speak further. In a blink of an eye Sakura had punched Naruto, making him fly through the wooden fence behind them.

Shin stared at the fallen Naruto from over her shoulder and swallowed.

Scary, Sakura-chan.

Konohamaru took Naruto’s pains and opened his mouth and, before Shin could do anything about it, words were already leaving it.

“What kind of girlfriend are you? You’re a witch, and ugly too!”

Shin’s jaw dropped so wide she was sure she had dislocated it.

“Sakura-chan! Please calm down!” She yelled, putting herself in front of Konohamaru. “Please remember he’s a little kid! Don’t hit him!”

Sakura glared at Shin for a moment, but found it in herself to take a deep breath and calm down.

“I’m leaving.” She announced, giving her back to everyone.

Shin sighed in relief and pulled Naruto to his feet. “You kinda asked for that, Naruto-chan…”

“Shin-nee, how can you be on her side?” Konohamaru asked, blatantly offended. “I bet she’s not even human! Did you see how big her forehead is?”

Shin stared at Konohamaru in horror and for a moment she felt her heart stop.

Are they trying to get us all killed?

Slowly Shin looked over her shoulder, praying to every god out there that Sakura hadn’t heard that. But she had. And she was staring back at them with a terrifying expression on her face.

Shin swallowed; she knew none of them were safe now. Those are the eyes of a predator.

There was a moment of silence.

And then they ran.

Driven by fear - for he had been the worst offender - Konohamaru ran quicker than any of his comrades, desperate to escape the clutches of Death.

Before he could get far, he slammed on someone. And as one the whole party stopped; even Sakura forgot her momentary rage as she stared at people in front of them.

Konohamaru had slammed on a boy that seemed to be slightly older than them. He wore all black, had purple face-paint and a strange thing tied to his back. A few steps behind him there was an older girl, with blonde hair and a huge fan strapped to her back.

Both of them had the symbol of Sunagakure on their protectors.

“Do you need something?” The strange boy asked, glaring down at Konohamaru.

Shin didn’t quite understand why he had bothered to ask, since his hand shot out to grab the front of the boy’s shirt before he had a chance to answer. However, before he could raise Konohamaru in the air, Shin grabbed the boy’s wrist tightly, keeping it still.

“Please…” Shin began with a calm voice. “Let the kid go. It was an accident.”

The older boy glared at her but she felt his muscles relax as he let go of Konohamaru.

Shin smiled. “Thank-”

Before she could blink, his other hand shot forwards and bunched up her vest in a tight fist as he pulled her to him and growled in her face.

“You’re an annoying brat.”

The girl behind him seemed unamused. “Let her go, Kankuro. Or you’ll regret it later.”

Shin grabbed the boy’s wrist with both of her hands as he raised her to her tiptoes.

“Shin-chan! Let her go, you bastard! ”

Shin could hear Naruto sprinting to help her and then she felt it. A strange shift in this stranger’s -Kankuro - chakra, as it seemed to shoot towards Naruto.

“Wait, Naruto!” Shin yelled, trying to turn her neck to look at her friend. “Calm down!”

Her words stunned the boy into stillness and she sighed in relief. However, there was that shift once again, and next thing she heard was the loud sound of Naruto falling down.

How?

“You are a Genin here? Seems like your village is full of insects.”

Shin turned her brown eyes back to Kankuro and glared. “You played your little games. Leave them be.”

Kankuro just smirked at her and raised his fist higher in the air, making her feet leave the ground entirely. Shin was holding herself not to fight back and escalate things further, but this guy was really pushing her.

“I don’t like weaklings and brats like you. So when someone starts running their mouth like that… It makes me want to break them in two.”

Shin swallowed, feeling how serious this guy was.

This is turning out to be pretty bad…

“First, I’ll take care of you. Then I’ll deal with the loud one over there.”

As if in slow-motion Shin saw Kankuro raise his fist at her and tensed her body. She really did try her best not to get into trouble with this guy, but she was not about to get punched in the face for no reason.

Before his fist could touch her Shin grabbed tightly on the inside of his wrist and rotated it in outward roughly, until the entirety of Kankuro’s arm followed the movement as to not break any bones.

“Wha-”

Then a small rock flew towards the hand that was holding her in the air. It came with enough speed to make the boy bleed, and he at last let go of her.

As soon as Shin’s feet hit the ground she jumped back so she was standing side-by-side with Naruto. Her eyes glanced to the direction the rock had come from, and she gave a grateful nod at finding Sasuke sitting on a tree-branch over there.

“You’re pretty far from home.” Sasuke spoke. “Get lost.”

Shin smiled and laid a comforting hand on a sulking Naruto’s shoulder as Sakura and Moegi started to fangirl over Sasuke.

“Thanks for running to my rescue, Naruto-chan. I really appreciate it.”

Her words seemed to embarrass Naruto further, and it didn’t help that Konohamaru was now drawing comparisons between the two boys.

“You brat, you’re the type of guy I hate the most.” Kankuro started up again, untying the… thing from his back. “Get down here.”

“Kankuro!” The girl called. “You’re not seriously going to use Karasu because of this!”

Shin sighed and raised her hands in a gesture of surrender, ready to try to keep the peace for a second time. Then she felt it-

This chakra-

Heart beating even faster Shin’s smile died as her wide eyes went back to Sasuke’s tree. But she wasn’t staring at him. There was another boy there. He had messy red hair, a ‘Love’ kanji tattooed on his forehead, and a large gourd tied to his back.

And the feel of his chakra was terrifying.

Shin’s brown eyes crossed with his sea-foam orbs and for a moment time seemed to freeze. No one had noticed that boy yet, only her.

How is this possible? Only Jonin should be this capable of hiding their presence, but this boy can’t be any older than us.

Shin opened her mouth to warn Sasuke, but the newcomer beat her to the punch.

“Kankuro, stand down. You’re an embarrassment to our village. Have you forgotten why we came here?”

His voice was cold, almost detached as he spoke but his eyes didn’t leaver hers for even a second. The boy’s gaze was becoming too intense for her, as if he was dissecting the very flesh from her bones, and Shin couldn’t help it. She averted her eyes, moving them back to Kankuro.

The newcomer’s presence visibly shook him.

“I know, Gaara. But these brats challenged us. They started it, I swear.”

“Shut up. Or I’ll kill you.”

“U-Understood. I’m sorry, I lost control here.”

Shin’s eyes widened at hearing Kankuro’s answer. He must be truly scared to lose face like this.

The boy’s unfeeling sea-foam eyes danced between Kankuro and Sasuke, before settling on Shin again. “I apologize for the problems he caused.”

Everyone around her stayed in absolute silence, so Shin took it upon herself to answer with a forced smile back on her face. “It’s okay. No harm done on our end.”

The redhead kept his gaze on her for a moment longer before dropping to the ground in a cloud of… sand?

“Let’s get going.” The redhead ordered. “We didn’t come here to play.”

As the trio turned to walk away, Sakura pushed her way to the front and ordered them to wait.

Shin was close to pulling out her hair in frustration with everyone around her. What was up with people not letting things be today? If Konohamaru hadn’t teased Naruto about Sakura in the first place, none of that would’ve happened.

“Your protectors are from Sunagakure - the Hidden Village of Sand. While both the Fire Country and the Wind Country are allies, no Shinobi can enter another village without written authorization. So please explain what you are doing here.”

The three Suna Shinobi turned to them but it was the girl who spoke.

“Are you serious? Do you live in another planet?”

Sakura was equally annoyed and confused by the blonde’s response so before things escalated again, Shin put herself in the middle of them.

“Sakura-chan, I think they must be here for the Chūnin Exams.”

“Ah, at least one of you knows their stuff, huh?” The blonde teased.

Shin turned back to the trio of foreigners, seeing the girl raise her visa.

“As you can see, we have permission. We are Genin from Sunagakure in the Wind Country, and we came here to take the Chūnin Exams.”

“Shin-chan.” Naruto called, walking until he was by her side. “I’ve never heard of the Chūnin Exams. What are they?”

“It’s the exams all Genin like us need to take to graduate to the rank of Chūnin, Naruto-chan.” Shin explained. Then she pulled Naruto closer so she could whisper in his ear. “I have some pretty exciting stuff to tell you all later, so don’t let me forget.”

Just with that Naruto was pumped. “I can’t wait, Shin-chan! I’m in it, believe it!”

Shin smiled at her friend, for a moment forgetting all about the dangerous trio in front of them.

Sasuke dropped to the ground to stand by their side. Shin was about to thank him for his help, but before she could say anything he yelled the the Suna Shinobi’s backs.

“Hey, you! Identify yourself.”

The girl was the first to turn around, staring at Sasuke with a glint in her eyes that Shin knew all-too-well.

“Me?” The blonde purred, smiling dreamly.

“No. The one with the gourd.”

Shin swallowed as the boy turned back to them, eyes fixed on Sasuke. “I’m Sabaku no Gaara. I’m also curious about you. What’s your name?”

“Uchiha Sasuke.”

Gaara nodded once and Shin thought it would finally be the end of it. But then he turned his eyes back to her.

“And you with the wavy hair. What’s your name?”

“O-Osasu Shin.” She answered, then as an afterthought, she bowed her head to the trio. “Ah, nice to meet you all. I hope we can all… get along?”

Shin could feel everyone looking at her as if she was crazy and there was no helping the blush that spread on her cheeks.

“Shin-chan…” Sakura spoke lowly from behind her. “Sometimes I worry about you. Really, I do.”

#gaara #gaara x oc #shin #osasu shin #naruto #sakura #sasuke #kankurō #temari #chuunin exams #fanfic #chapter 6

14 notes · View notes

taizi · 5 years

Note

Protective Joxter?

this got…..so much longer than i was expecting…………..so it is in 2 parts. have some father + son bonding between 2 people who have no idea how to be a father and a son :)

all you gotta do’s knock on my door (1 of 2)

the moominspairing: the joxter & snufkin word count: 2048read on ao3

(next chapter)

There is company just beyond the light of his campfire; Snufkin has a certain sense for these things, lifting night-eyes to scan the woods around him. Everything is gray in the daybreak, hard to make out, but he still finds what he’s looking for.

“I know you’ve been following me since I left town,” Snufkin says mildly. He stirs the pot of stew with a patient hand. “There’s plenty here for the both of us if you’d like to join me.”

After a moment, someone drops down from a nearby tree. He pads over the leaves and forest litter without making a sound and settles down an arm’s length away from where Snufkin is sitting. His legs are folded up, arms draped over his knees, as if he absolutely needs to be in position to nap at a moment’s notice.

Snufkin smiles. His usual reaction to this particular creature is fond amusement, and tonight is no different.

“Hi, Dad.”

The Joxter tilts his head, blinking slowly. In the low light of pre-dawn, his eyes are very dark; or it could be his round pupils, swallowing up all the blue.

“H’llo, Snufkin,” he says, voice a lazy stretch, like taffy left out in the sun. “You don’t mind the company?”

They’re two of the same, and Snufkin knows his father would leave without ire or hurt feelings if Snufkin asked him to. As it is, though, “Not at all. I won’t be alone for much longer anyway. Spring is here, and it’s only two more days to Moominvalley.”

It’s unnecessary to point out, because the Joxter is probably familiar with the way himself by now. Since meeting Snufkin there two years ago, an adolescent son he had never known about, the Joxter has made it a point to spend at least summers in the valley. It’s common ground for them both, an easy place to navigate newfound family or peel away for time alone or time with friends.

Sometimes the Joxter leaves early, too restless to sit still, and Snufkin doesn’t begrudge him that. They always cross paths again on the road at some point, or in some faraway city or unmapped village, so there’s never any true need for goodbyes.

Snufkin is beginning to think his father is keeping loose tabs on him. This early morning is a perfect example. He just can’t think of why, when they both know Snufkin is self-sufficient, and has been since he was very small.

“Three days,” contests the Joxter, chin sinking down to rest on his knees. “You don’t sleep enough.”

Snufkin ignores the remark comfortably, passing him a bowl of the finished stew. His father gets most of the meat in his serving, and Snufkin most of the vegetables, and they’re both content as they tuck into the warm meal.

The peace lasts for about three minutes after that, and then a sudden frantic voice from overhead has Snufkin jumping in surprise.

“You there! Little snufkin! Won’t you help me?”

“Oh, dear,” Snufkin says, setting his food aside and climbing to his feet. There’s a bluebird swooping in frantic circles above his camp, and it can hardly calm down long enough to land on the arm he offers as a perch. “Slow down, my friend. What’s the trouble?”

“A snake came in the night and tried to eat my nestlings,” the bird cries. “My neighbors helped drive it away, but it upset the nest, and now my babies will fall!”

Alarmed, Snufkin skirts the fire and starts to run, without pausing even to grab his hat. “Lead me to it, and I’ll do my best to help.”

The bird takes flight and stays low, eye-level. The Joxter is keeping pace beside Snufkin on silent feet, curious and watchful.

“I forget that you can speak to birds,” the Joxter says. Birds avoid him, as do most small creatures, because he’s as much a predator as a snake in a nest. He knows better than to eat any of Snufkin’s companions, and generally has stopped offering to bring food to Snufkin’s campfire unless it’s fish. “How is it that you learned? It all sounds like chatter to me.”

Snufkin keeps his eyes on the bluebird so he doesn’t lose sight of it, even as he explains, “When I was young, there was no one else to talk to but the birds in the trees. After a while their music began to sound like language. It helps that I’m a good listener, I suppose.”

The Joxter doesn’t say anything after that, and it’s only moments later that they reach the bluebird’s tree. A quick glance doesn’t reveal any nests in precarious positions, so it must be on a higher bough. Snufkin spares a moment to wish he had had time to pull his smock on over his undershirt, because his arms will surely get scratched on the way up.

“I should do it,” his father says suddenly. “I’m the better climber.”

“They’re frightened enough as it is without you prowling around their babies,” Snufkin retorts, and eyes the lowest branch, which is still well above his head. His father has more than a foot of height on him, which lends itself to a handy solution, and he turns to wave the taller creature over. “Give me a boost, please. And then wait for me down here so you don’t send anyone into a fresh panic.”

Grumbling under his breath, the Joxter hoists Snufkin up enough that he can grab the branch and pull himself the rest of the way into the tree. Snufkin calls down his thanks, and the bluebird lands on his knee.

“This way,” it says, “not much farther! Oh, hurry!”

Snufkin follows it up easily, thanking all the warm afternoons he and his friends spent playing in the trees around the valley, because the experience certainly helps. His grip slips a few times, and once a branch bends beneath his weight, but he makes it to the nest without incident.

Right away, Snufkin can see the danger. The small bunch of branches the nest was safely built into are broken, the skirmish with the snake causing what was stable to lean hazardously to the side. The little ones inside have picked up on the bigger birds’ distress and their shrill cries work straight through Snufkin’s heart.

“Alright,” he says softly, “there’s no need to fear. I’ve got you.”

He works the nest into the cup of his palms and holds it carefully. The bluebird directs him to a new place for it, a hollow in the trunk that a squirrel helpfully surrendered, and Snufkin can only breathe easily again once the little nestlings are squared away inside.

“Thank you!” half a dozen birds seem to say at once, coming to perch on his arms or the branches around him. The mother bird adds, “To think what might have happened if I hadn’t found you— !”

Pleased with the positive outcome, Snufkin says, “Don’t think of might haves. You and your nestlings are safe and that’s all that matters. I’m happy I could help.”

He leans back to make room for yet another perching bird, shifting his footing as it flutters by, and something snaps beneath his boot. He realizes with a second to spare that he’s about to fall, and then there’s no time to grab hold of anything before the birds are shrieking in alarm, and gravity is snatching hold of his shirt and tugging him backwards, and Snufkin’s mind is blank with fear—

But he doesn’t hit the ground. He lands much sooner than that, against something much softer.

Snufkin blinks, reorienting himself, and finds himself halfway down the tree, tucked securely between his father’s arm and chest.

“Ah,” the smaller snufkin says, more relieved than anything. “Thank you.”

The Joxter picks his way down carefully. His dark fur is raised, tail like a bottle brush, and his claws are caught in Snufkin’s shirt. He doesn’t let go until the ground is firm beneath their feet, and even then it takes him a long moment to decide to set Snufkin down.

“Next time,” the Joxter says slowly, “I am climbing. I would rather scare the little birds than watch you break your bones.”

Snufkin has to work not to roll his eyes. He’s a little hardier than that. It wouldn’t have been the first time he fell from a tree, and it surely won’t be the last. Not as long as there are little birds who need favors.

The Joxter seems to sense the repressed eye-roll and his own eyes narrow. The pupils in them are slitted now; Snufkin doesn’t think he’s seen them like that since the day they met, the day Moominpappa introduced them to each other and the Joxter startled so badly he dropped one of Moominmamma’s best teacups.

“A twenty foot fall is not nothing.” The Joxter’s quiet tone has taken a sharp turn. “If I hadn’t caught you—“

“But you did,” Snufkin says, his own hackles rising. These might haves again, and right after he told the bluebird not to think of them! “And I said thank you. There is nothing else to talk about.”

“We could talk about risking your life for an animal. A bluebird,” the Joxter says in distaste, “one of a hundred thousand bluebirds. What’s next? Will you help an injured creep cross the river? Save a squirrel kit from a landslide?”

An argument, Snufkin realizes, his stomach turning sour. He has witnessed the uncomfortable scene a dozen times before in a dozen places, a child and their parent screaming at each other in marketplaces or city squares.

The Joxter is taller than him, bigger, sharp where the Mymble’s blood made Snufkin soft. His voice is usually low and unobtrusive, a storyteller’s voice, but it sounds so different in anger. Snufkin wonders what it will sound like when he is shouting the way those other parents shouted, and a very cold feeling slides around inside him.

But Snufkin never learned how to back down. The orphanage matron tried to teach him but those lessons didn’t stick. Whether it’s park keepers, or the traveler who came through the valley last year and thought it was okay to call Sniff simple, or his own father, Snufkin stands his ground.

��There could be a hundred thousand snufkins just like me,” he shoots back. “Better snufkins, even, who can play more than just guitar and harmonica, who have never been invisible and never gotten lost and never fallen out of a tree. What makes me worth so much more than that bird?”

The Joxter surges a sudden step forward, and all of Snufkin’s courage deserts him. He ducks his head, missing his hat dearly, and braces himself for furious hands.

They don’t come. He opens his eyes.

His father is crouched in front of him, hands in his lap, eyes round and hurt. The anger, if it was ever anger, is gone. When he reaches out, Snufkin is ready for it this time, and he doesn’t move away.

The Joxter’s dark paw lands very lightly on Snufkin’s auburn hair. It’s a gentle touch, and then it’s gone. The Joxter pulls back and straightens up and does a tidy disappearing act into the trees. Snufkin loses sight of him within moments.

It’s just Snufkin and the worried birds and the rising sun. Their comfortable breakfast feels like it happened a year ago.

He wraps his arms around his middle and stares at the ground. He doesn’t like arguments, for all that he can be contrary and difficult when his principles are fringed upon, when his personal boundaries are broken. Pulling up fences and signposts is one thing, but fighting with words? Just talking with words can sometimes be too much, let alone fighting with them. There is a reason he tends toward silence and solitude.

“If I didn’t have birds to talk to, I wouldn’t have anyone,” he murmurs miserably. “I’d drive them all away. All except dear Moomintroll.”

The name is like a balm, and Snufkin lifts his head to the north. Two days— less than, if he pushes himself— and he could see Moomin again. The one person whose welcome he’s never had to doubt.

Snufkin rushes back to the camp to pack his things. If he’s hoping to run into his father there, he’s sorely disappointed. But that’s only if.

#the moomins #moominvalley #the joxter #snufkin #moomin #my writing #prompt #anonymous #moomin fic #knock on my door #title oBVIOUSLY borrowed from 'home' by joseph salvat off the moominvalley soundtrack

182 notes · View notes

phroyd · 5 years

Link

We lost one of the Great Film Makers yesterday. Her soul will live on In Cinema! Rest In Peace, Agnes! - Phroyd

Agnès Varda, a groundbreaking French filmmaker who was closely associated with the New Wave — although her reimagining of filmmaking conventions actually predated the work of Jean-Luc Godard, François Truffaut and others identified with that movement — died on Friday morning at her home in Paris. She was 90.

Her death, from breast cancer, was confirmed by a spokeswoman for her production company, Ciné-Tamaris.

In recent years, Ms. Varda had focused her directorial skills on nonfiction work that used her life and career as a foundation for philosophical ruminations and visual playfulness. “The Gleaners and I,” a 2000 documentary in which she used the themes of collecting, harvesting and recycling to reflect on her own work, is considered by some to be her masterpiece.

But it was not her last film to receive widespread acclaim. In 2017, at the age of 89, Ms. Varda partnered with the French photographer and muralist known as JR on “Faces Places,” a road movie that featured the two of them roaming rural France, meeting the locals, celebrating them with enormous portraits and forming their own fast friendship. Among its many honors was an Academy Award nomination for best documentary feature. (It did not win, but that year Ms. Varda was given an honorary Academy Award for lifetime achievement.)

It was her early dramatic films that helped establish Ms. Varda as both an emblematic feminist and a cinematic firebrand — among them “Cléo From 5 to 7” (1962), in which a pop singer spends a fretful two hours awaiting the result of a cancer examination, and “Le Bonheur” (1965), about a young husband’s blithely choreographed extramarital affair.

Ms. Varda established herself as a maverick cineaste well before such milestones of the New Wave as Mr. Truffaut’s “The 400 Blows” (1959) and Mr. Godard’s “Breathless” (1960). Her “La Pointe Courte” (1955), which juxtaposed the strife of an unhappy couple with the struggles of a French fishing village, anticipated by several years the narrative and visual rule-breaking of directors like Mr. Truffaut, Mr. Godard and Alain Resnais, who edited “La Pointe Courte” and would introduce Ms. Varda to a number of the New Wave principals in Paris.

These included Mr. Truffaut, Mr. Godard, Claude Chabrol and Éric Rohmer, all of whom had gotten their start at the critic André Bazin’s magazine Cahiers du Cinema, and who became known as the Right Bank group. The more politicized and liberal Left Bank group would come to include Mr. Resnais, Chris Marker and Ms. Varda herself.

Arlette Varda was born on May 30, 1928, in Ixelles, Belgium, the daughter of a Greek father and a French mother. She left Belgium with her family in 1940 for Sète, France, where she spent her teenage years. At 18, she changed her name to Agnès.

She studied art history at the École du Louvre and photography at the École des Beaux-Arts before working as a photographer at the Théâtre National Populaire in Paris.

“I just didn’t see films when I was young,” she said in a 2009 interview. “I was stupid and naïve. Maybe I wouldn’t have made films if I had seen lots of others; maybe it would have stopped me.

“I started totally free and crazy and innocent,” she continued. “Now I’ve seen many films, and many beautiful films. And I try to keep a certain level of quality of my films. I don’t do commercials, I don’t do films pre-prepared by other people, I don’t do star system. So I do my own little thing.”

Her “thing” often involved straddling the line between what was commonly accepted as fiction and nonfiction, and defying the boundaries of gender.

“She was very clear about her feeling that the New Wave was a man’s club and that as a woman it was hard for producers to back her, even after she made ‘Cléo’ in 1962,” T. Jefferson Kline, a professor of French at Boston University and the editor of “Agnès Varda: Interviews” (2013), said in an interview for this obituary. “She obviously was not pleased that as a woman filmmaker she had so much trouble getting produced. She went to Los Angeles with her husband, and she said when she came back to France it was like she didn’t exist.”

Ms. Varda was married to the director Jacques Demy (“Lola,” “The Umbrellas of Cherbourg”) from 1962 until his death in 1990. From 1968 to 1970 they lived in Hollywood, where Mr. Demy made “Model Shop” for Columbia Pictures and Ms. Varda made “Lions Love,” which married a meditative late-’60s Los Angeles aesthetic to the New York counterculture. (The cast included the Warhol “superstar” Viva; Gerome Ragni and James Rado, the writers of the book for the musical “Hair”; and the underground filmmaker Shirley Clarke.) During that same period, she shot the short documentary “Black Panthers” (1968), which included an interview with the incarcerated Panther leader Huey Newton; commissioned by French television, it was suppressed at the time.

It was also during that period that she befriended Jim Morrison, the frontman of the Doors, who visited her and Mr. Demy in France; according to Stephen Davis’s “Jim Morrison: Life, Death, Legend” (2004), she was one of only five mourners at Mr. Morrison’s funeral in the Père Lachaise cemetery in Paris in 1971. That same year she became one of the 343 women to sign the “Manifesto of the 343,” a French petition acknowledging that they had had abortions and thus making themselves vulnerable to prosecution.

In 1972, the birth of her son, Mathieu Demy, now an actor, prompted Ms. Varda to sideline her career. He survives her, as does the costume designer Rosalie Varda Demy, Ms. Varda’s daughter from a previous relationship, who was adopted by Jacques Demy.

“Despite my joy,” Ms. Varda told the actress Mireille Amiel in a 1975 interview, “I couldn’t help resenting the brakes put on my work and my travels.” So she had an electric line of about 300 feet for her camera and microphone run from her house, and with this “umbilical cord” she managed to interview the shopkeepers and her other neighbors on the Rue Daguerre. The result was “Daguerréotypes” (1976).

In 1977 she made what she called her “feminist musical,” and one of her better-known films, “One Sings, the Other Doesn’t,” which also seemed inspired by personal circumstance.

“It’s the story of two 15-year-old girls, their lives and their ideas,” she told Ms. Amiel. “They have to face this key problem: Do they want to have children or not? They each fall in love and encounter the contradictions — work/image, ideas/love, etc.”

One of Ms. Varda’s more controversial films, because of its casting, was “Kung-Fu Master!” (1988), a fictional work about an adult woman — played by the actress Jane Birkin, a friend of Ms. Varda’s — who falls in love with a teenage boy, played by Ms. Varda’s son. The title — it was changed in France to “Le Petit Amour” — referred to the young character’s favorite arcade game. The film was shot more or less simultaneously with “Jane B. par Agnes V.,” another of Ms. Varda’s border crossings between fact and fiction, which she called “an imaginary biopic.”

After Jacques Demy’s death, Ms. Varda made three films as a tribute: the biographical drama “Jacquot de Nantes” (1991) and the documentaries “Les Demoiselles Ont Eu 25 Ans” (1993), about the 25th anniversary of Mr. Demy’s “The Young Girls of Rochefort,” and “L’Univers de Jacques Demy” (1995).

Ms. Varda was then relatively inactive until 1999, when, armed for the first time with a digital camera, she set about making “Les Glaneurs et la Glaneuse” (“The Gleaners and I”), which resurrected an artistic career now well accustomed to under appreciation and resuscitation.

“She was a person of immense talent, but also enormously thoughtful,” said Mr. Kline of Boston University. “When you look at some of the films you might think they were more spontaneous than thought out. A film like ‘Cléo,’ for instance, you might have said, ‘O.K., she just follows Cléo around Paris,’ but the film is extremely beautifully imagined and thought out beforehand.”

In “Vagabond,” an 1985 film in which Sandrine Bonnaire plays a woman who is found dead and whose life is recounted, often in documentary style, “the traveling shots in the film are always ending, and each subsequent shot beginning, on a common visual cue,” Mr. Kline said. “It makes you look at film in a completely different way.”

Alison Smith, author of the critical study “Agnès Varda” (1998), called Ms. Varda “a poet of objects and how we use them.” In an interview for this obituary, she added, “Varda as an artist intrigued, and intrigues, me by the constant freshness and curiosity which she brings to her inquiries into the everyday world and how we relate to it, particularly how she uses the detailed fabric of life.”

Richard Peña, who as director of the New York Film Festival helped introduce “Gleaners” to an American audience, praised that film and Ms. Varda’s “The Beaches of Agnès” (2008) as “touchstones for a new generation of nonfiction filmmakers.”

Ms. Varda is represented at the Museum of Modern Art by photographs, films, videos and a three-screen installation titled “The Triptych of Noirmoutier.” “A decision to change direction and move into installation art when over 80 is, by any standards, remarkable,” Ms. Smith said. “But her energy was awe-inspiring.”

Phroyd

#france #agnes varda #rip

3 notes · View notes

solidburnreturned · 6 years

Text

Your Very Own Troll

I’m writing a fanfic ovo I’ve been mulling over this idea for a while and I think I’ve finally got the plot down! A summary might give too much of the story away, but I’ll give you this: Something (or someone) is hunting the creatures of the forest, and the trolls are definitely including on the list of “desired items.” Here’s the first chapter! I’ll be updating and probably be uploading some illustrations to go with it :^)

The forest was a peaceful place, full of life and color. The creatures within the towering trees, winding meadows, and breezy plains were seen by very few outsiders. Camouflage kept both predators and prey hidden from prying eyes. Most animals were colored with varying tones of green, brown, grey, and yellow. Some had some bright coloring, but most kept their colors earthy.

Among the residential creatures were the unexpectedly colorful Trolls. Surprisingly, despite being quite low on the food chain, they were probably some of the loudest, brightest, and most bombastic critters in the entire area. Song, dance, and glitter were their favorite activities. They of course knew how to blend in and could defend themselves, but their village was considered quite safe and sound. Queen Poppy lead the trolls proudly, making sure the villagers were safe to party freely without worry.

Branch was eager to help with this.

“Poppy, I did some perimeter scouting this morning and I think you should take a look at what I found.”

Poppy brushed her hair carefully, tongue peeking out of her mouth with concentration. She was sat in front of her vanity mirror in her large pink pod, surrounded by different products involved in her daily morning routine. Branch was sat behind her on her bed, his pale blues, browns and greens looking a bit out of place surrounded by so much pink. He didn’t really care. He had bigger things to worry about, and Poppy needed to hear it.

“Run it by me, Branchie boy!”

Branch furrowed his brow and cleared his throat. “The North end of the village is secure. The river is at an appropriate water level and is looking crystal clear. The West side is also secure. The farms are thriving with the recent rains and we all have plenty of food. We should start storage early; I think Fall is going to come early. The East side is confirmed secure, although I found some feathers on the ground. I think Harper should paint up some warning signs to put in the area for now. Any big birds in that area could potentially cause pecking-related injuries. Now, the South end-”

“Branch, everything sounds just fine! It sounds fine every morning! I appreciate you checking, but you should try and relax! The biggest party of the year is tonight!” Poppy said, glancing at his disgruntled face in the mirror.

“Exactly! Poppy, I really don’t think you should go ahead with the Midsummer Bash. The South end looks compromised to me-”

She sighed loudly. “Again with the South end?”

He stomped his foot. “Yes! Well, outside of the South end! I keep finding weird stuff, and I’m just getting a bad feeling.”

“You always have a bad feeling.”

Branch’s ears turned down slightly, expression switching from frustrated to puzzled. “No, I don’t!”

“You’ve been complaining about the South end for a week now!” She spun around in her seat to face him. “Give yourself a rest, Branch! You’re just stressing yourself out over nothing.”

His light purple nose scrunched up indignantly. “It’s not nothing! A couple miles out, I found this weird...dart thing...it was bigger than me!”

Poppy smirked playfully. “Lots of things are bigger than you, Branch,”

“But I don’t know where this thing came from!”

She tried using a more calming tone, seeing that Branch was really starting to get worked up. “Maybe the bergens just have a new...game or something and one of the pieces made its way near the village.”

“Even if that were true, which I highly doubt it is since Bergentown is North of the village, that wouldn’t explain the other things I’ve found!” He marched over to her vanity and shoved her things off to the side. Ignoring her agitated protests, he slapped his sketchbook down and flipped to some more recent sketches. “Look at these!”

Poppy peered at the drawings and notes. Panicky, slightly messy drawings of some weirdly futuristic camera, a shiny gold capsule of some sort, a clear package of what might’ve been some sort of food, and a large shoe print with indents indicating that the bottoms were studded.

Poppy glanced back up at Branch, unimpressed. “These just seem like bergen things...”

“No way. Why would a bergen be all the way out here by themself? Plus, I’ve never seen a bergen eat whatever was in that weird bag.”

Gently closing the sketchbook and keeping eye contact with the light blue troll, Poppy slid it back towards him with a smile. “Branch, I know you want to keep everyone safe, and you’re very good at it! But you need to learn to let some things go.”

Branch started to get antsy. “Poppy, if I ignored something that turned out to put everyone in danger, I don’t know if I could forgive myself. Especially if something happened to you!”

“Aw, that’s really sweet! But, seriously! Everything is going to be fine. No one has seen or heard anything actually threatening, including yourself. A few weird things in the woods a ways away from here doesn’t mean we’re in danger.” Poppy stood up and patted Branch on his tense shoulder. “Just. Relax. Try some scrapbooking!”

Branch heaved a sigh through his nose. He knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with the stubborn queen. Tomorrow’s party was a favorite of the trolls, and it was definitely a huge one. He could remember fretting over The Midsummer Bash constantly during his grey days, angrily warning everyone to keep the noise down, shut the lasers off, call off the fireworks...otherwise a bergen would surly come and eat them all. While he was no longer grey and bergens were no longer the enemy, Branch was still certain that parties as big as this brought only trouble. Had he been wrong for the last 20 years? Yes. But, statistically, that just made the odds of something going wrong higher. At least that’s how he saw things. Try as he might, he’d never managed to convince Poppy to call the party off, or even tone it down. He knew he wouldn’t be successful this year either.

“Fine. Don’t listen to me. But I’m gonna be checking that perimeter like its never been checked before, and when I do find what’s leaving all this junk behind, I’m gonna rub it in your sorry face!” His nose was smashed up against hers, angry blue eyes inches away from amused magenta eyes.

Poppy blinked at him, smiling nonchalantly. “Can’t wait! Now go eat something, you’re getting hangry.” She spun back around in her chair and continued her morning routine.

A growl from his stomach interrupted his coming denial. Poppy giggled as Branch turned and trudged out of her pod. Back to getting ready for the day. She did appreciate Branch’s vigilance and knew that he did it out of love and care for the trolls. However, his constant cries of wolf this week in particular were really starting to wear them both down. She wished she could find a way to get him to just chill out and not be so high-strung all the time.

“Things will calm down after the party,” she hummed to herself, tying up her frizzy hair. “Including Branch!”

-------

Branch grumbled angrily to himself as he stomped around the South end of the village, chomping aggressively on an acorn. Poppy was right, he had been getting hangry...but his concerns were still valid. Bizarre objects appearing out of seemingly nowhere? That was definitely something to worry about.

Angrily grinding the acorn up with his teeth, Branch adjusted his backpack on his shoulders and pushed on, beyond the Southern border of the village. He paused when he caught glimpse of some young trolls playing in the grass, giggling and chasing each other around.

Choking down the acorn quickly, he hurried over to the kids. “H-Hey! You shouldn’t be out here!”

They stopped their romp and greeted branch with a smile.

“Hi Mr. Branch!” One little yellow troll said brightly. “Do you wanna play with us?”

“No, not right now, you guys shouldn’t be beyond the border! It’s not safe!”

A little chubby orange troll groaned. “But Mr. Braaanch! It’s fun out here! There’s no scary monsters!”

“You don’t know that,” he snapped. “Now I’m serious, go back to the village!”

The group whined and started trudging back the way they came. One whispered into the ear of another:

“Mr. Branch is just no fun...”

Branch’s sensitive ears caught that remark and he huffed sharply before continuing on his way at a furious pace. “I’m fun...I’m plenty of fun! They just don’t know anything about safe fun!” Another bite out of the acorn. “Wandering around in the woods with no supervision...no survivalist training...hmph!” Crunch. “Might as well have a glowing sign above their heads that says ‘eat me!’” He dug a sharp piece of acorn out of his back teeth. “Jeez, why didn’t I cook this thing?”

A crackle of leaves up ahead made him freeze. Pricking up his ears and dropping the partially gnawed nut to the ground softly, he ninja rolled over to a nearby rock. More crackles ahead. A low murmur. Branch’s heart started to thud in his chest. He carefully pulled his frying out of his pack, face hardening in determination. Peeking over the rock, this view of whatever was making these noises was blocked by the vine-covered trees. His hair shot forward and pulled him up from vine to vine. Silence was key, he knew. He had no idea how good the hearing was of these mysterious...whatever-they-are’s. The crunches of leaves started to move away at a surprisingly fast pace. Determined to at least catch a glimpse, Branch switched out his frying pan for binoculars, swinging from tree to tree and running along branches. He couldn’t believe how quickly the noises were fading away and keeping up was a growing challenge. Among the crunch of leaves and his own haggard breath he could just make out some strange swishing sound that was sometimes followed by a dull thunk.

After a few more minutes of sprinting, Branch stopped short on a vine, out of breath. The binoculars pressed against his eyes desperately searched for any sign of movement, any unnatural colors, anything. But the commotion had long faded away. The only evidence that was left to justify Branch’s pursuit were some sliced vines and slashes in the tree bark. Big slashes. Biting his lip, the light blue troll hopped down closer to one of the slashes. He ran his fingers along the bright white inner wood. The gash was enormous, bigger than he was in both height and definitely length. Sap was already starting to bleed out. Catching a drop on his finger, he tasted it carefully. The usual sweetness tree sap would have was tainted with a strong metallic flavor. He swallowed thickly, his anxiety rising.

Down below on the forest floor he spotted something florescent almost hidden in the crushed grass. He quickly bounded down to it, still on high alert for any suspicious activity. The forest had never been so eerily silent; it was deafening to him.

Hidden behind some blades of bent grass was a bright pink...thing that Branch had never seen before. It was about the size of himself (minus the hair), not quite as wide, and topped with a shiny, metal contraption of some kind beside a red tab. This thing was such an alarming shade of pink it would give Poppy a run for her money. Branch shrugged off his backpack and hesitantly touched the item, pulling his hand back sharply as if it had electrocuted him on contact. It was a smooth material that he had never seen or felt before and it was causing his face to scrunch in disgust. He recognized one of the metal parts at the top; a gear. It wouldn’t spin nearly as smoothly as Branch thought it should have as he gave it a tug. Some kind of yellow-tinted fluid was crusted around the metal. One whiff was all he needed before covering his nose and gagging.

“What is this thing?” He coughed.

Deciding more information may be on the other side, he wrapped his dark hair around it tightly and flipped it. The smooth material felt foreign in his grasp and he grunted, struggling to keep a hold if it. There was still fluid in the apparently hollowed cylinder; he could hear it slosh inside. The other side did in fact have a clue, although Branch really only felt more confused after reading it.

“Fl...ori...da? Who’s Florida?” He muttered.

Strange wavy letters spelled the mystery word out in all caps, the bright white contrasting heavily against the eye-blinding pink. Branch snatched his sketchbook out of his hair and started feverishly documenting his findings. This included the crushed and bleeding grass, the oozing gashes in the trees, and the sliced up vines hanging loosely. It was a horrific sight to him to try and capture with his scratchy markings.

An abrupt, sharp explosion off in the distance startled Branch so badly he sprang into the air with a shriek, his pencil and book flying in different directions. He bolted for the cover of a nearby tree root. The screams and alarms of birds and other animals overwhelming him completely. The silence that followed was short, interrupted by deep cheers of triumph. Holding his ringing ears, Branch decided he had had more than enough and frantically gathered his things before sprinting back in the direction of the village.

-----

#trolls #trolls 2016 #trolls movie #fanfic #my art

13 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 3 years

Text

Upcoming Movies in March 2021: Streaming, VOD, and Theaters

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

2021 continues to be a rollercoaster for movie lovers everywhere, with a once promising Spring 2021 going much the same way as 2020 with delays, release date shifts, and growing apprehension. Still, even if the first few months of 2021 will look much like the last 12, there are reasons to smile. For starters, a new Walt Disney Animation Studios project, Raya and the Last Dragon, is about to premiere on Disney+; Eddie Murphy is finally reprising the role of Prince Akeem in Coming 2 America; and there is the chance to at last watch something called… the Snyder Cut?

Here’s what’s coming.

Moxie

March 3

Netflix kicks March off with Amy Poehler’s second feature film as director. Turning her camera lens to the anarchic battlefield of high school life, Poehler adapts Jennifer Mathieu’s novel of the same name about a young woman named Vivian (Hadley Robinson), who is fed up with the toxic masculinity and sexism at her school. So taking a page from her mother’s (Poehler) former hellraiser youth, Vivian starts an anonymous pamphlet-magazine with a punk rock aesthetic. She periodically distributes her musings around the school, mocking the double standards and perhaps calling out potential predators in their midst.

Clearly this is going to turn some heads.

Raya and the Last Dragon

March 5

Get ready for a “Disney princess movie” unlike any other. Raya and the Last Dragon is the latest effort from the fabled Walt Disney Animation Studios, and the first ever animated epic produced almost exclusively from home. The film follows Raya (Star Wars’ Kelly Marie Tran), the first Southeast Asian Disney Princess. But rest assured she’s also a unique heroine within the Disney canon. Lost without her family or home, this martial arts-trained daughter of a ninja chieftain travels through a fantasy wasteland until she meets Sisu (The Farewell’s Awkwafina), a chatty water dragon of legend.

Together they seek to save the desolated and polarized land of Kumandra. They also offer an old-fashioned adventure movie for all ages that lacks a single musical number–yet retains a familiar and welcome amount of heart.

Coming 2 America

March 5

It’s been more than 30 years since Coming to America, the amusing and very ‘80s Eddie Murphy comedy about an African prince out to find his princess in Queens, New York. In Coming 2 America, Murphy’s Akeem Joffer returns to Queens while still a prince, albeit finally with the crown in sight. With his father (James Earl Jones) on his deathbed, Akeem is commanded to seek out his long lost son Lavelle (Jermaine Fowler), who lives in New York City with no idea he’s descended from royalty.

Hence Akeem and trusted advisor Semmi (Arsenio Hall) return to their old stomping grounds to meet and retrieve Lavelle. But, really, it’s just an excuse to have Akeem back in modern NYC and to let Murphy and Hall run wild. Watch out for Wesley Snipes who appears as General Izzi, a warlord that seeks to take over Akeem’s beautiful land of Zamunda.

Chaos Walking

March 5

It’s actually happening: Doug Liman’s Chaos Walking is coming to theaters. Whether you want to go will be another matter though. The movie, which stars Spider-Man’s Tom Holland and Star Wars’ Daisy Ridley, originally finished production in 2017 with the aim to release in March 2019. But after poor test previews, the film was delayed until 2020 to make room for reshoots… and all of that was before COVID happened.

Now the film is finally walking its chaos to a theatrical release in the U.S., UK, and other markets. The film stars Ridley as the last girl in the world, literally. And she’s just been awakened to a bizarre dystopia where only boys like Holland’s Todd are left, and all their internal thoughts are verbalized by a visible force field around their heads. It’s going to be a long journey to salvation.

The film is based on a YA novel and feels like a young adult adventure from the early 2010s. But the cast, which also includes Mads Mikkelsen, is winsome, and Liman has helmed good movies in the past with troubled productions, including The Bourne Identity and Mr. & Mrs. Smith…

Pixie

March 5 (Available in the UK Now)

As a film that by early UK reports is a whole lot of fun, Pixie is a throwback to gangster comedies of yore with a few welcome twists: The hero of the film is Pixie Hardy (Thorughbreds’ Olivia Cooke), a young criminal mastermind who attempts the ultimate heist as revenge for her mother’s death, and who then gets an armada of gun-wielding priests and nuns chasing her for the effort.

Now forced to rely on two outsiders (Ben Hardy and Daryl McCormack) in her small English village, Pixie is going to shoot her way to freedom, assuming the lethal, opera-loving Father Hector McGrath (Alec Baldwin) doesn’t put a bullet in her head first. Yeah, this could be a wild, fun ride.

Boss Level

March 5 (U.S. Only)

It’s often been remarked upon by many critics, including our own, that the time loop setup made famous by Groundhog Day has yet to produce a bad movie. Edge of Tomorrow, Happy Death Day, Source Code, The Endless, and last year’s Palm Springs (to name but a few) have all been at least pretty good. So director Joe Carnahan (The Grey, Smokin’ Aces) appears ready to push that observation to its breaking point with an action movie that positions itself as loopy fun.

Premiering on Hulu, Boss Level follows Frank Grillo as Roy Pulver, a mercenary in a time loop that begins with an assassination attempt on his life every morning and ends with a citywide explosion. In between he fights bad guys and tries to figure out how to break the loop and save his son. It’s a well-worn formula at this point, and judging by the trailer, Carnahan is leaning into the absurdity of it, along with relying on a talented cast which includes the underrated Grillo, Naomi Watts, Michelle Yeoh, Ken Jeong, and the ever controversial Mel Gibson. Will it work, or just be one day too many with this concept?

Cherry

March 12

Finally coming to streaming via Apple TV+, the Russo Brothers’ first post-Avengers movie seeks to be a Jesse James fantasy for our modern age. In the film, the Russos’ handpicked Spidey, Tom Holland, stars as Cherry, an Iraq War veteran with an addiction to opioids and a penchant for robbing banks. Highly stylized and the rare type of film we see these days—something original—hopefully Cherry is as sweet as its title.

Zack Snyder’s Justice League

March 18

It actually exists. Now. When thousands upon thousands of fans were peacefully flooding comic book convention centers, and not so peacefully taking to social media to let their frustrations be heard regarding “#TheSnyderCut,” no actual finished version of Justice League from director Zack Snyder existed; instead there was just a four-hour rough cut that was in black and white, and which existed without special effects, music, or most of that post-production sheen. But fan demand has willed this abandoned version of Justice League to emerge from the ether and take glorious form on HBO Max.

So this month, the version of Justice League that Snyder intended to make will at last drop at a gargantuan four-hour length. Will it really be the stuff fanboy dreams are made of? Or will it be a longer, more brooding variation on the film that disappointed millions more than three years ago? Whether you’re a disciple or skeptic of “the Snyder Cut” phenomenon, we suspect you’re curious about finally laying eyes on this sucker.

Godzilla vs. Kong

March 31 (March 26 in the UK)

If you’re a little fatigued on superheroes, might we suggest a giant monster smackdown? Just over a week after Batman and Superman have their rematch, Adam Wingard’s hotly anticipated Godzilla vs. Kong will also premiere on HBO Max, as well as in U.S. and UK cinemas. And in the Legendary Pictures event, the two most iconic giant monsters in movie history will have their first heavyweight bout since Toho’s more modest 1962 effort. Gone are the men in suits; in their place is the dazzling CGI that Legendary’s MonsterVerse has already deployed via Godzilla: King of the Monsters (2019) and Kong: Skull Island (2016).

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

In the new film, Rebecca Hall plays a researcher who feels compelled to get the godlike King Kong off Skull Island for reasons that are not entirely clear. With similarly murky logic, Godzilla is provoked by this decision, and the traditionally benevolent kaiju is soon attacking Kong without warning. Clearly the big guys have beef. The film also stars Alexander Skarsgard, Eiza González, and a returning Millie Bobby Brown and Kyle Chandler. But come on, we’re here to “let them fight.”

The post Upcoming Movies in March 2021: Streaming, VOD, and Theaters appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3uO0H2S

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

0 notes

utsus · 7 years

Note

Hi! Your writing is amazing! I love everything I've read. I was wondering if you'd be willing to write Sasuke x Hinata? Prompt: Unexpectedly in love. Thanks so much! (even if you don't write them)

Part 1. AO3

(Like the tide; push, and then pull.)

✧

Mornings in Konoha were each of them a spectacle, bright andblazing. The sun finely caressed the crests of the mountains, a lover’s morningkiss, filled entirely with heat.

Hinata blinked her eyes open and pointedly ignored the crickin her back, just there above her right hip. She could feel grains of stonepricking her palms as she pushed herself up, rising none too steadily beforeclutching the still-healing wound over her ribs. She rested her shoulderagainst the rocks, waning, lightheaded. An inn would’ve been much preferred, asfar as halfway houses go, but she’d been weak and bleeding and so damned tired; this small cutout cave was heronly option.

She’d dreamt of home, hot and bright and overcast with everyshade of welcoming morning. Now, she lifted her fingers in front of her tiltingvision and watched them shake. There was a coolness, here, amid nothing butrock and stone; It leeched into her body, her bones, and she thought of thecolor blue.

It was bound to happen sooner orlater, this.

Hinata pressed her eyes closed for a moment, pushing pastthe pain in her temples until her periorbital veins dilated. She opened hereyes and she could see it all; the flickering of a bird’s wings over the cave;the quiet ambush of ants over the carcass of some long-abandoned prey; theblood splashed over the dirt path several kilometers west.

Noticeably absent, however, were the bodies the bloodbelonged to. Hinata could feel it under her nails, a wasted thought, but theirabsence didn’t surprise her. She extended her vision as far as she could,unimaginably far, and after a tense moment of suspicion she sagged with reliefagainst the rocks. No one, shethought. I’m alone.

The blood rushing through her veins calmed, her vision andfocus narrowing back to that subdued blur at the edges. She knelt andconsidered healing the laceration on her ribs, which she could feel had bledthrough her hastily applied field dressing, but decided against it. Her chakrastores were nearly depleted, and it was a wonder she’d woken as early as shehad.

Having used too much time already—though for properpurposes, nonetheless—Hinata traced her fingers through the gritty earth beforeforming the appropriate seals. She pulled a scroll from the pouch on her legand unfurled it with a flick of her wrist, a single practiced motion. Exceptthat something in her wrist suddenly garnered her attention with a pulse ofpain, causing her to flinch but not falter. Ugh,she thought, frustrations curling her expression into something creased withlines. She’d thought her condition better than this.

The scroll unfurled and responded to her next set of seals,a message rapidly scrawled in code, and sealed itself in a single quiet fwip. She balanced it in the earth,surrounded by her hand-drawn seals, and used what precious chakra she had leftto transport it directly to the Nanadaime.

“There,” she whispered with a shaky smile, sitting back onher heels and wiping the fine sheen of sweat over her forehead away with aheavy forearm. She allowed herself a moment of respite, a single flicker of abreak from what she would have to do next before her thoughts returned to thecontent of the message and her smile slid away, stoicism replacing it. Itwasn’t a complete message, and it wasn’t good news. It was too important totransport with a scroll, which could easily be intercepted. It was also a majorcomplication, and Naruto wasn’t going to like what it meant for hisfast-tracked plans for peace between the villages.

Thinking of Naruto still brought warmth to her heart, but ithad been a long time since she had felt anything more than friendly admirationfor their newest Hokage. He had never responded to her confession, and Hinatastill wasn’t sure if that was because he didn’t know what to say, or didn’tunderstand the true meaning of what her confession had meant.

What it should have changed,between them.

Hinata shook thoughts of the past off her with a littleshake of her head, and stood to her full height. She made quick work of hertemporary sleeping area, returning it back to an appearance of untouched wildthat had never felt human change. She hefted her field pack onto her back andpaused at the lip of the cave, closing her eyes to listen to her surroundings,confident in her senses.

She knew to listen for the silence of a waiting predator,rather than the rustling of a moving creature. Shinobi had a practiced quiet totheir steps that Hinata was attuned to, having grown up beside Kiba and learnedfrom him and Akamaru about enhanced senses—and how to utilize them.

She could count the number of shinobi that could sneak up onher on one hand. Those that made the cut were familiar to her in name only;stand outs. She felt chills race down her arms at the thought of theirpracticed silence, the utter and absolute lack of presence they assumed whennecessary. Outliers.

She opened her eyes and wasconfident, then, that she was the only shinobi in the area.

Shinobi had a practiced quiet to their steps, a single scuffhere, a subtle pressure there. She would have heard it.

She should have—would usuallyhave prepared for the worst, but she was so damned tired, her chakra scrapingthe dregs of her potential, and maybe that’s why she missed it. Maybe she wasdistracted by her own exhaustion, so far from home, tired enough to be kickingup the dust of the past in her thoughts. She was waning, shaking, bleeding, andit just did not occur to her to look closer, look harder, find in thefluctuation of wildlife around her the one isolated statue of frigid absence;truly—

She had not expected an outlier.

✧

Hinata had been jogging back towards Konoha with adetermined but lilting pace for hours, with only a few breaks in-between. Itwas not an unfamiliar or unfortunate distance, from the borders of Mist, butHinata had several unattended wounds and aches that arose with the jarring ofeach step. Most concerning of all, however, was the way that her visioncontinued to blur at the edges.

She’d been ambushed by a troupe of Mist Jounin afterattaining the information she’d inadvertently stumbled upon during herreconnaissance mission, and one of them had carried a club. Hinata had madequick work of the first two men, had taken a few slices from a vicioussharp-toothed woman with fin-like blades before disarming and disqualifyingher. The lithe man with the club larger than his own body had snuck up on herand clocked her right on the back of the head, her reflexes getting her mostlyout of the way, but not enough to completely miss the blow. She could feel theraised skin there, still aching as she slowed to a walk.

How the troupe had discovered her presence, completelyveiled and hidden in the underbrush several kilometers away from their basecamp, she had no idea—but it reeked of duplicity. With the information she’dcaptured still whirling around in her mind, she didn’t have to wonder why.

Hinata stumbled, and it was a testament to how exhausted shewas that instead of catching herself, she instead fell to her knee. A stonejutted into her skin but not deep enough to worry her, even as she hissed. Hervision swam.

She hadn’t considered poison, until just that moment. Shehad a general pack of labelled antidotes and herbs in her pouch, her medicaltraining always present, but it suddenly seemed so far away. She brought herright hand up in front of her again and watched it swim before she clenched itinto a fist and forced herself back to standing position. She swayed slightly andmanaged to find her pouch, but when she pulled her medipack out the labelsswam, too.

“Damn it,” she cursed lowly, trying to steady her vision.Calling the Byakugan was unthinkable at this stage of exhaustion, and shewasn’t about to make herself faint on enemy land with no chance of aid orconcealment. She bit her lip hard enough to make it bleed, and focused on thepain there. Her vision cleared with the sudden change in focus—pain, as always,the champon of attention—and she pulled the vial for a broad-spectrum Mistantidote from her pack. It wasn’t easy but it was possible, after that, toprepare the syringe and inject it into the muscle of her thigh.

She waited a moment to feel the effects, which she soonrealized were not forthcoming, and felt the first pinch of tears begin to format the exact moment that she realized something all the more criticallyimportant.

The stillness.

The birds were silent, and had there not been a forthcomingbreeze, Hinata thought even the trees themselves would’ve been loath to move.The creatures of the underbrush were decidedly absent from view, the forestsnormally crawling carpet suddenly so spine-tinglingly motionless. Hinata could hearnothing but the sound of her own racing heartbeat.

She froze, every inch of her tensed in sudden realizationthat she had become prey. I can do this,she thought, trying to keep herself focused on positives rather than the truthof her situation: that she was easy pickings in the middle of enemy land,poisoned and hunted.

She tried to pinpoint where it was coming from, but it waslike trying to find the lowest frequency of light in a kaleidoscope of color,with blurred eyes and muddied senses. There was something about the air,though, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Her mind tried to come upwith an answer, but it was tired and sluggish, and all she could think was thatthe air felt suddenly electric.

“Show yourself,” she called steadily, her voice in directcontrast with her hands. Even if she could not find them exactly, she would letthem know that they’d been found, regardless. She straightened slowly, herevery movement smooth and unhurried. She was too smart to startle a predatorwith rapid, escapist behavior.

Her heart raced so heavily she could feel it in her throat,could almost swallow it back down. The longer she stood, the weaker she felt,but adrenaline corded in her a new spine of iron. If she was going down, itwouldn’t be without a fight. She thought about the message she’d sent, just aglimpse of what was to come, and she knew that there wasn’t even an option ofchoices.

She had to send the message toNaruto, in full.

She used every ounce of adrenaline coursing through her, herleft hand flying through the seals as her right dipped and reached for anotherscroll, already unfurling with inked lines of code disappearing into theparchment before she’d even removed it fully from her pouch.

And then, it stopped.

Fingers like cords of steelaround her wrist, a breath away from breaking bone.

“Don’t,” the voice said, just over her shoulder, and Hinatawanted to laugh. She twisted in his grip, trying to dislodge her wrist even asher left hand reached for the kunai at her hip.

It happened so fast, she wasn’t even sure she would’ve seenit even if she had been firing on all cylinders. One moment he was there, ather shoulder and the next he had her back to a tree, both wrists held againstthe bark. Hinata blinked and felt a wary combination of relief and warinesscurl within her as she recognized her opposition.

I should’ve known, shethought dazedly, a moment before her adrenaline fizzled and consciousnessescaped her.

Silence that made silence stand out.

What was Uchiha Sasuke doing onthe borders of Mist?

✧

Hinata blinked her eyes open once more as consciousnessreturned, and found herself staring at wooden walls. She sat up abruptly andher vision swam for her trouble, even as Sasuke walked into the room and gaveher a disapproving look. Hinata felt the hairs on her nape stand up in responseto his proximity, even as he walked around her wordlessly and set a tray offood in front of her. He was dressed in shadows, obsidian from head to toe, andHinata felt even more uncertain about his presence here.

He moved to the opposite side of the room and crouched tosort through a pack, her eyes never once leaving him. She was pleased to notethat her vision no longer swam, and there was only the slightest pressurebehind her temples. She held up her hands and found them steadier, though shestill felt weak. She reached for the dressing on her ribs and felt that it wasdry. She wondered if the bleeding had stopped and the blood had dried, or ifher bandage had been changed.

If it was the latter…Hinata feltherself blushing, despite herself.

She opened her mouth to call outto him, to draw his attention, but the words tangled and dispersed on thesurface of her tongue. What should she call him? They were not friends. Theywere not even really acquaintances, nor were they really even compatriots. Hehad left the village at a young age, betraying everything she protected,everything she cherished.

Including the members of Team 7,who had grown to be like family to her. They were family.

And he had walked away fromthem.

So she was at a crossroads ofidentifiers; what did she call the betrayer of her loved ones, who had also,however inadvertently, just saved her life?

“Uchiha-san,” she offered, a neutral in-between. It was anattempt to try out her voice, which she found to be hoarse, too-long unused.She cleared her throat and was about to try again, before he glanced over hisshoulder at her. There was a curiousness to his posture, muted and buried underjaded ennui.

“Drink,” he said, and turned away from her once more. Hinatafrowned, turning back to the tray he’d brought her. She had no reason tosuspect it, given that he was now a fellow Konoha shinobi, semi-newlyreinstated under the Nanadaime’s order. But Hinata had always been wary ofUchiha Sasuke, prodigy and sole survivor of the Uchiha clan, traitor to hervillage, brother to the man she had loved for more than a decade. She was waryof this man, and for good reason; she knew from Sakura’s exasperated butwarning testimonies that Uchiha Sasuke could wield words and looks as efficientlyand lethally as he did blades.

Words that could cut. Eyes that could kill.

But then, she realized withrenewed confidence, those were not reason enough for her to be frightened away.A cascade of brown hair came to mind, a handsome and jarring expression ofindifference that clashed with the blade of a quick tongue. Neji had never beenafraid to cut with his words, either.And as for eyes that could kill, well. Hinata’s younger sister was a prodigyherself.

Hinata reached for the drink he’d left her, and was pleasedto feel the water cold and refreshing. She tried to take it in slowly, but shewas dehydrated, lips chapped, and couldn’t remember the last time she’d had icecold water. At best, she’d had tepid water from her pack, or cooked from astream.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, with silence as her onlyanswer. She took several more swallows before setting the cup down and feelingout her limbs, still aching but less so than the day before. Had it only been aday? How long had she been out? She turned again to ask Sasuke, and foundinstead an empty room.

She hadn’t even heard him leave.

She was growing ratherfrustrated by that.

She rose slowly, getting her footing steadily beforeproceeding towards the door. She tried to listen for him, avidly focusing, butall she could hear were the chirps of birds, the groans of tree trunks swaying,and the soft babble of a nearby stream. She pushed open the door and there hewas, within hearing distance, but so unquestionably reticent. He sat on thefront steps with his blade on his lap, sharpening it meticulously.

Hinata didn’t want to startle him, her own self-preservationat the forefront of her mind, but she wasn’t arrogant enough to think that she was silent enough to escape his notice. She may move quietly, butshe was no Uchiha Sasuke.

She came to sit beside him, her every movement carefully controlled.She found herself approaching him quite like the predator she’d thought him tobe, slow to grow out of that response.

“Thank you for the water,” she said quietly, not wanting todisturb the peaceful air around them. “And the food.”

Sasuke didn’t say anything, but she saw his movements slowfor only a moment, as if considering. The next moment they returned dutifullyto his work, and Hinata glanced around them to better gauge their surroundings.He had brought her to a wooden cabin, only so big as the one room she had wokenin. There were trees touching the sky on every side, and no sign of the streamshe could just barely hear over the metallic slide of Sasuke’s blade. The grasswas tall enough to tickle her elbows, swaying ever gently, caressed by thebreeze. She frowned.

“What is this place?”

“A safehouse.”

Hinata turned back to him, pursing her lips. She watched hismovements for a few moments, hoping that he didn’t feel uncomfortable under hergaze. His body language was relaxed, his shoulders comfortably languid, muchlike a lazing cat. He didn’t seem to mind her staring.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” She prefaced, careful as always,“But how safe would you say this area is? Considering our location.”

Sasuke didn’t hesitate. “Safe enough.” He waited a momentlonger, almost reflecting, before he offered: “We are further South than youpreviously understood.”

Hinata’s eyebrows jumped, and she found herself glancingaround again, studying the types of trees, the position of the sun, the weedsat their feet. He was right, she realized. This vegetation was lesscharacteristic of Mist. They were closer to home than when she had lost consciousness.She wondered how far her cave was from here, and was amused that suddenly aformation in the mountain had become hersjust because she’d taken shelter there. This, she thought, was Shino’sinfluence. The man had a connection to the Earth that was unparalleled, and she’dfound herself attuned and receptive to that outlook early on in her girlhood.

“Oh,” she said, nodding.“Alright.”

And then, realizing her own rudeness, she flushed and added,“Thank you for bringing me here.”

At that, Sasuke’s eyes drifted over to her. She felt pinnedunder his gaze, sharp and barbed, endless shadows. His eyes traced herexpression, the heat of her cheeks, and she watched the shift in him; it wassomething immeasurable, she couldn’t put it into words. He moved withoutmoving, his dark eyes roving, and she felt mixed parts at ease and trapped.

She almost expected him to simply accept her thanks and returnto his work. All she knew of him was common knowledge in the village, and whatthe rest of Team 7 had shared with her about their experiences with him. If shewas honest with herself, she had always felt the slightest tinge of outsider’s resentmentfor Sasuke.

She understood what it meant to be a piece in a game,manipulated by higher powers—any shinobi did, though especially those who grewup in clan dynamics. She could not understand, however, how he felt losing hisclan. Having them taken from him. Shethought of Hanabi, of Neji, of her father and Ko and all the women who hadhelped her grow and her heart ached.She didn’t know if she could’ve lived without them, had they been taken fromher at such a young age, as he’d experienced.

But she could not realistically imagine betraying herclosest friends, her village, and all the people who tried to get closer tohelp him heal after the fact. That was not even an option for her. But Sasukehad done that and gone several steps further; he’d teamed up with an evil manwho had murdered a beloved Hokage, and he had even attempted, thoughhalfheartedly, to harm the members of his team when they had sought him out.

Hinata wanted to think, unforgivable,but she couldn’t. Hinata had never struggled to forgive, and when she thoughtof Sasuke the child surrounded by murder at his kin’s hand, her anger waned. Hewas a product of what had been done to him, and that didn’t excuse his past darkbehaviors, but there was something to be said for him coming back to Konoha andtrying to make it right.

She decided that he was just…complicated.

Now, sitting beside him, Hinata was reminded of the talesSakura had told her about Sasuke’s stoicism, his aversion to idle conversation.Hinata was more confident in herself and her worth than she had been as a younggirl, but even still, she did not expect Sasuke, a relative stranger to her, towant to pursue conversation with her any more than he had to. She waited forhim to turn away from her, maybe to nod his head or at the most, to say you’re welcome. He did none of thosethings.

“What were you thinking?” He asked instead, and there was anedge to the question that almost tasted of frustration. Hinata frowned,wondering at that.

“I’m sorry?”

And there was the temper she had heard about from Sakura allthose years, flashing in the depths of his eyes. It was there one moment andgone the next, extinguished under indifference. Fascinating, Hinata thoughtabsently, even as she felt her heart thump against her ribcage. “What were youthinking, walking around in that state?”

Understanding curled around her, and she felt her cheeksflush even as she straightened her posture further. “I was returning home.”

“You were limping to yourgrave.”

Her own anger prodded, Hinata turned towards him further andmatched his stare as best as she could. She ignored her heated cheeks, rapidlyspreading to the tips of her ears. The realization was sudden, then, that Sasukewas unquestionably beautiful, in a way that almost hurt to see—but Hinata wouldnot back down.

“I was okay,” she began, but before she could continueSasuke’s gaze sharpened, heavy with disapproval. After a moment of pause sheargued, “Maybe I was a little worse for wear, but I was up to the challenge.”

Sasuke shifted, and if Hinata had known him better shewould’ve said that there was a softened edge to that expression that was almostfond, but this was Uchiha Sasuke andthe only thing he’d ever been fond of was vengeance. And, if Sakura’s drunkengossip was true, maybe cats, too.

“Hinata,” he said, not unkindly, “You tripped over a treeroot, and it brought you to your knees.”

Hinata bristled with indignation and a little bit of shame,that he had seen that moment of hers. Simultaneously, in a darker and less familiarcorner of her, another kind of heat flared. He had remembered her name.

“Well!” She sniffed, turning away from him so he couldn’tread her like the open book she was. “Maybe I wasn’t doing so great after all.”

Sasuke allowed the silence between them to last, his handsmoving carefully, his wrists delicate but strong. Hinata glanced down from thecorner of her eyes and noticed scars, there.

“That being said,” he muttered at last, voice so low shefelt herself leaning slightly towards him to better hear it. “I still don’tunderstand what you were thinking traveling like that. If I had been Mist—”

“I know.” Hinata whispered, acknowledging the unspokenstatement. It unfurled within her, overcame her, the knowledge she’d beendenying herself since she’d left the cave. Had she been intercepted by anenemy, she would not have lived. She had been in too poor a state.

“Foolish,” Sasuke added, almost as an afterthought, andHinata wondered at the expression that grew across his face at thatword—something nostalgic.

“Yes,” she admitted almost silently, scuffing a sandalagainst the hardwood step below her. She glanced back to him as he continuedsharpening his blade, and really let herself look at him.

She had always been blinded by Naruto, the bright figureheadof her heart’s desire. Where the village had highlighted Sasuke’s prodigiousskills and handsome looks, Hinata had only had eyes for Naruto’s unshakingfaith, his square fists. She didn’t remember much of Sasuke, back then; onlyrumors, and gossip, and her friends’ daydreams.

She looked now and it was not difficult to see why hispresence alone had carved out a place in the village only the sun could rival.There was a chiseled kind of beauty to him, all angles and edges, the sharparrow of his nose. He seemed a statue come alive, so pale he early glowed underthe rays of heat. His dark hair looked soft, though Hinata would never dare toreach out and test the theory—for every angle of Sasuke that was beautiful,there was an added edge that was dangerous. There was no questioning his power,even now with his posture relaxed, shoulders hunched over his blade, and hiswrists unhurried with ease of movement. There was not a doubt in Hinata’s mindthat even though he moved languidly, slow and easy and drawing to the eye,there was a caged panther lurking beneath.

Hinata could understand the draw, there. She still hadchills over her skin just by sitting this close to him, and she had neverreally looked twice at Uchiha Sasuke. Now, she found it was difficult to lookaway. And the chills? They remained, though she reflected that could’ve beendue to the weird electric current to the air around them. She still hadn’tidentified that added energy.

The sounds of stone against steel disappeared, and Hinatablinked at the sudden change only to find Sasuke had stopped working and wasmeeting her stare with a muted expression. Embarrassed, she quickly jerked hergaze away and returned to assessing their surroundings. How long had she beenstaring, lost in her own thoughts? She didn’t care enough to consider that shehad fled from that little confrontation, however small it may have been.

A moment later, the slide ofstone and steel returned, just like that.

They sat together in relative quiet, allowing their bodiesto heal in a rare moment of relaxation. Hinata couldn’t help her mind fromcrawling back to the enigma at her side, who seemed all too suddenly confusingto her. Her friends had described him differently than this. Harder, moreguarded. Less abiding. Less conversational.

Hinata wondered again what he was doing on the border ofMist, and why he had intercepted her. How had he found her? How long had hebeen following her? Was his mission in conflict with hers? She wouldn’t give upinformation as critical as—her message!

She leapt to her feet immediately, and for the first timesince she’d woken, Sasuke’s posture became tense. He didn’t hesitate in hismovements, but his shoulders became defined, the muscles in his arms tense withforetold movement. The electricity in the air snapped, and Hinata’s chillsraced down her spine anew.

“My mission!” She exclaimed, her heart racing. She turnedbut didn’t look at Sasuke, didn’t see him. She strode back into the house andswiftly gathered her belongings, strapping them back on to her person andheading back for the door. She found Sasuke in the same spot she’d left him,still sharpening his katana, still stiff and ready to pounce.

“I have to go,” she explained, without really explaining. Therewas something to be said about the regret she felt, for having broken the calmatmosphere they’d shared. She ignored it, however, and hesitated in front ofhim, unsure of this strange thing between them that had allowed them to sharepeace and quiet with each other despite the chaos of their careers, theirlives. The moments felt strange, somehow, already so far in her past butuntouchable. Pure, in a way.

“Thank you for—everything.” She said, beginning to walkbackwards and away from him. His movements stopped and he watched her silentlyuntil she turned and he was removed from her sight once more. She started at ajog, and when she realized she already felt stronger, she began to run.

Had Sasuke given her an antidote? Had he known the poison?She felt healthier, stronger. He must have done something, and that, she realized, didn’t sit right with her if shewas just going to leave. She stopped at the edge of the trees, hesitating foronly a moment, before she turned back to him. He was still watching her, thatstrange prowling stillness strung tight like a bow in every line of his frame.She waved a hand and called, “I owe you one, Uchiha-san!”

And then she turned, and ran forhome.

✧

Hinata had run the entire way back to Konoha and felt adifferent kind of exhaustion as she finished her debriefing in the Hokage’soffice. Naruto looked on at her with clear concern, an open book as he alwayswas. Hinata stood straight and tall and her voice was steady as she spoke.Hinata had long since lost the feeling of awkwardness standing in front ofNaruto, the man she had once confessed to. All that was left for her now washer duty to her Hokage, and her admiration and love for her friend.

Naruto concluded their briefing with a long, drawn-out sigh,running his hands through his hair. He looked handsome, but so tired. Hinataworried for him silently, hoping that he was getting enough sleep. She must’veprojected that worry onto him, because in the next moment he asked, “Are yousure you’re okay, Hinata?”

Hinata tried to stand straighter, to dispel any signs of herweakness. She was a Jounin of Konoha, she had done her mission, and she wasready for the next. Hopefully she could have a few days in-between and get somesleep and tend to her garden and go play with Mirai—but her duty to her villagealways came first.

“I’m fine, Hokage-sama.” Shehesitated, wondering if it was okay to share such a thing with her Hokage, whojust so happened to also be her friend. In the end, she decided to go with it. Sheadmitted, “It was a long mission.”

Naruto’s worry didn’t wane in the slightest. “That’s true,”he agreed, starting to stand from his chair. Hinata blinked, wondering if hewas going to come around the desk to comfort her. She had to shake the mentalimage off, surprised at it. She had not thought of Naruto romantically foryears, and yet ever since she ran into Sasuke, Naruto had re-surfaced in herthoughts. Ino would probably say it was some sort of revival in her romanticside, or something, Hinata thought wryly. Sakura would probably say that Hinatawas simply thirsty.

She wasn’t sure she wanted either of those things to betrue. She was doing just fine on her own.

“Hey,” Naruto said, and her intuition had been right. Hecame around the front of his desk and moved as if to cup a hand on hershoulder, but his eyes leapt from hers to somewhere over her shoulder and hefaltered. Blinking and curious, Hinata turned and jolted when she saw Sasukestanding there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.His eyes were heavily lidded, watchful, and Hinata wondered how long he’d beenthere, and how soon after she’d left had he followed.

“Bastard,” Naruto greeted him suspiciously, but with a smallquirk to his lips. “You’re back early. Like reallyearly.”

Hinata turned back to Naruto, unsure of where she shouldlook. In fact, she realized, she’d probably been silently dismissed. Moving onthat estimation, she bowed slightly in Naruto’s direction and turned, droppingher chin slightly to acknowledge Sasuke before moving for the door. Before shecould even make it, Naruto called, “You sure you’re okay, Hinata? I could makea clone to walk you home?”

Hinata frowned, turning over her shoulder with a look ofdisapproval. Naruto rubbed at his nape and laughed self-deprecatingly.

“Okay, okay, bad idea,” headmitted, and Hinata felt herself smile.

“I’m perfectly fine,” she said, and then bowed once more,dismissing herself. “If that’s all, Hokage-sama?”

“Ah, Hinata, I told you not tocall me that!”

“Dumbass,” Sasuke interrupted,unfurling from the wall. “Let her go home.”

“Don’t call me dumbass,dumbass!”

And with that, Hinata, smiling, moved out of the Hokage’soffice. She headed down the hallway and nodded to fellow Jounin, and those whorecognized her as the Hyuuga Clan Head’s Advisor. Hanabi would probably be in ameeting when Hinata returned home for herdebriefing on their clan happenings. She winded down the twisted staircaseand took a deep breath of fresh air at her first step outside the building. Shewas looking forward to her bed, and the probability that Neji would make her ameal, despite her telling him he didn’t need to. If he was not on mission, ofcourse.

The sun was just barely starting to set as she made her waythrough the village, winding in and out of the foot traffic. She allowed hermind to trail in the clouds for only a moment before her thoughts returned toher stolen intelligence.

The likelihood of a traitor inNaruto’s midst, feeding Mist Intel.

She was only a few blocks away from the Hyuuga manor whenshe felt a presence at her side, almost deliberately so, and turned to seeSasuke slouching beside her, perfectly in tune with her steps. She startled toa stop, so surprised at him being there, and just blinked up at him. He met hergaze and she could read nothing of his expression, just that he was there, forreasons unknown, and he wasn’t about to explain it, either.

“Uchiha-san,” she greetedcautiously, nodding her head. “Did you need something?”

“No.”

“No?” Hinata reiterated, and got nothing in return. Shepursed her lips, nodding slowly. Then, she simply started walking again. Amoment later, she felt him at her elbow, not close enough to touch, but almost.His hands were tucked in his pockets and his footsteps were as silent as thegrave, but he was letting her know he was there even though she could see himout of the corner of her eye.

“You know, Uchiha-san,” she said conversationally, after itbecame clear that he was not going to separate from her. “With all due respect,I distinctly remember telling Naruto-kun that I don’t need an escort home.”

“That’s true,” he agreed easily.Hinata waited a moment.

“Must I repeat the samesentiment, even though you were in the room for the first?”

Sasuke didn’t falter. “What ifthere are tree roots in your path?”

Hinata’s cheeks flared, her lips parting around an almost-silentgasp. Was he—being playful? She turned to gauge his expression and foundnothing noticeable but for a swift gleam in his eyes as he glanced down at her.It appeared he was laughing at her.

Hinata turned back ahead and was left speechless with therealization that Sasuke, Naruto and Sakura’s teammate, known for being ice coldand as emotionally expressive as a moldy stone, was playing with her. And what’smore, he had saved her life, brought her to a safehouse, had let her see a sideto him that she was uncertain the world knew about.

She was, at the very least, confused.

And, though it was strangerstill to admit it: she was intrigued.

They turned a corner and she was home, the skyscraping wallsof her compound rising before them. She turned to Sasuke and didn’t know whatto say, how to remark on his behaviors and how curious they made her. Instead,she offered him a shy, questioning smile that he did not reflect. He simplywatched her, head tilted slightly, as she said, “Have a nice night, Uchiha-san.”

And Sasuke, the beautiful, but emotionally stunted stone she’dgrown up hearing about, reached out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear asif it was the most normal gesture in the world. His expression didn’t change, boredand indifferent even as she froze in place, every curve of her tense. His eyesflickered between her own, and his voice was heartbreakingly small when at lasthe responded.

He said, “Goodnight, Hinata.”

And then he was gone.

#sasuhina #naruto #sasuke uchiha #uchiha sasuke #hinata hyuuga #hyuuga hinata #I LIVE AND BREATHE FOR SASUHINA ASKS!! also im so sorry this is so long #......and unfinished YI K E S #im gonna work on the continuation hopefully tonight sorry #if you think naruhina are a slowburn couple boy howdy do i have News For You #sasuhina is the pinnacle of slow burn imo it takes them at LEAST a year to kiss i'm JSUT saying #thank you so much for this prompt !! <3 #prompt responses

174 notes · View notes

grimmpublications · 5 years

Text

A Story For Me

Notice before reading: This is just a story to help me work through writer’s block and to just allow my imagination to flow. No planning or anything just raw creative ideas! So as always, I hope you enjoy and feel free to leave constructive criticism, or just criticism, or whatever floats yo hypothetical boat! (Leo)Chapter 1: The Journey Begins My eyes travel over the area below me, my arm wrapped around the trunk of a massive tree, the tree purchasing me an unrivaled view of my island and the shining sea that surrounds it. The island jutted with cascades of forested hills with life teeming. Even from the height I’m at I can hear the life of the jungle raging about. Not many people, from any clan, will travel as far into the forest as I am, especially climbing this tree, but I quickly fell in love with the view a few years ago and despite the legends of the curse on this tree. I come here when I need to think, and oh boy did I have some stuff to mull over. I see smoke rise in different clearings in the jungle, each belonging to a clan of the island, one of them being my clan, the Treaor. A clan of craftsmen and hunters, our knowledge of the land and seas making us a vital part of the community on the island. It’s as my eyes scan over the area where my village sits that my half-brother’s letter comes to the forefront of my thought. The letter came early in the morning last week, I was in the middle of my first training session for the day, doing sprints in the sand of the beach near my village. A large bird swoops down near me, launching a leather bag at me. I barely manage to spot the bag in time to catch it and then the giant bird rockets back the way it came. I open the main bag of the satchel to reveal multiple items, the first being an envelope with my name written on it in golden ink. I raise an eyebrow as I open the envelope. “Leo, It’s been a long time since we’ve talked, I hope all is well. Since we last talked I’ve secured a spot in a high-profile guild in Leonos, life has been a blur since I joined two years ago, doing jobs that would blow your hair back, learning skills I’d never even dreamed of, and now we have a job that has a payout that could let us live like kings. You turn sixteen tomorrow, so as my gift to my younger brother, I offer you your first bounty. Inside the satchel is all the information you need to know about this job. I can’t wait to see how strong you’ve become. Sincerely, Tyren The Wild” I couldn’t help but beam as I run my finger over the fancy handwriting of my brother’s name. “Tyren The Wild?” I just had to chuckle at the name. My brother hadn’t lied when he said all the information would be in that satchel. Inside the satchel was instructions on finding his guildhall and then a coinpurse with more gold than I’d earned my whole life. My ship was set to sail today. On my birthday, I’d get the thing I’d wanted my whole life. A chance to be a hero. I know it sounds like a tired cliche but I can’t help it, all the stories I heard as a kid are to blame. This is my dream but as the hour came closer, I felt my heart twinge with angst and fear. So with a breath I bound down the branches of the tree faster than most monkeys in the jungle could. I get to the base of the tree and begin jogging through the jungle, using my flexibility and agility as I weave around the thick groupings of trees and vegetation. The wildlife is active in this jungle, the jungle’s extreme rate of growth providing all the resources the ecosystem could possibly need, leaving the clans with plenty of game to hunt. The animals in this jungle know me, not like we can chit-chat or anything but my footfalls and scent are no stranger to them so they usually leave me be, even the predators. I make it to the beach outside my village, the sun now beginning it’s descent to the other side of the planet by the time my feet sink into the warm sand. I loved the sunset here, the way the sun was reflected onto the ocean like a daily tattoo; the way the clouds exploded with orange and pink. I close my eyes as I call out to the sea with my thoughts. “Hey Epi, it’s me.” I think as I allow the tide to cover the tops of my feet. I can see the world darken outside of my closed eyes and sound of a storm rages before me. When I open my eyes a head the size of a mountain sits in the shallow water. “Leo” the being says in a fond tone “You called?” I smile as I lay my hand on the rocky skin of Epieolago, the embodiment of storms and the sea “Aye, I received a letter from Tyren yesterday. An invitation to begin my adventure.” “Starting to feel doubt?” Epi asks, his voice rumbling the ground beneath my feet. I nod my head as my eyes watch lightning crackle across the clouds above me “A little bit” Rocks grind as I watch Epi form himself into a man, a handsome one at that with peppered gray and black hair that is swept back and a well-groomed goatee. Epi lays his hand on my shoulder “Remember the day we met?” I chuckle as I nod my head “How could I not? I almost died that day!” Epi smiles at me as he continues “You risked your life for a creature of the sea without a moment of hesitation. Took on the task of saving a life that was far out of your reach. I usually would allow fate to run its course but something about the tenacity at which you fought your fate inspired me.” He pushes one finger into my chest “Remember that feeling of tenacity, Leondris” Epi’s eyes illuminate with crackles of energy “It’ll propel you to glory” I nod my head with a smile as I open my arms for a hug “Thanks, Epi” Epi smiles as he embraces his friend. As Leo tries to release Epi from the hug, Epi holds him there and says under his breath in a tone that sounded like a raging storm in my ears, each word like rolling thunder “Leondris Vale, I declare you as my champion.” My knee nearly buckles from the pain that flares on the nape of my neck, I feel Epi brace me as he holds me up. I take a deep breath as I steady myself “What did you just do?!”I ask, the pain launching me into a panic.Epi nods his head “I know it hurt like hell, but I thought it’d hurt less if I surprised you with it” “What’s it?” I ask with a grimace as I rub my neck and feel the outline of a scar on my neck, the design complex. “Making it official.” Epi says casually, looking to the side to conceal his smile as I erupt in curiosity “What’s official!?” Epi’s smile vanishes as he extends his hand out for me to shake “You’re officially my champion, The Champion of the Storm” “What does that mean?” I ask, the name sounding awesome but the meaning is lost on me. “It’s your job to figure that out. I’ve never anointed a champion. You’re the first.” Epi says in a serious tone. The words were heavy, but they excited me “I know what I need to do.” I say with certainty as I place my hand over my heart “I’ll make you proud, sir” “I know you will, kid” Epi looks behind him as he walks into the raging sea “Make them remember your name” he says as a giant wave crashes over him and then my eyes snap open as moonlight greets them.I wiggle my feet as they’d been in the same place for a couple of hours at least. Time gets weird when talking with Epi. Tyren had arranged for a fisherman from the Leovin tribe to ferry me to Hongrund and from there another fishing vessel was secured to take me the rest of the way to Leonos.” “Leondris,” a raspy voice says from the shore as I come to a stop from the jog I’d been on to get to the meeting place specified in the satchel. I could barely see the old man “Get on, I’ve waited long enough for ye!” I nod my head with an apologetic smile “Sorry, old timer!” I say as I throw myself over the side of the boat and find a seat. The wind picks up as soon as the old man climbs onto the boat and unloads the sails. A last push from Epi as I begin my journey. I only had three things, my bag which held all the things I hold dear to me and the supplies I’d need to get to Leonos. Then there’s my sword and shield. My two greatest possessions. The second gift I’d received from Epi. The shield was made from one of the many scales that covers the rocky terrain of his back. The scale was dark brown and was rimmed with shining steel. The longsword was made from an odd metal that I’ve still never been given a name for but the metal shines like steel but the metal has an illuminating blue hue to it. The handle is made from his scales as well but the cross guard is made from the same strange metal but at each end are two blue gems that the metal entangles around. “Someone really wanted your company” The old man says as he rests his hand on the steering column of the boat “paid me a years salary just for this nighttime cruise.”Judging from the gold in the coinpurse, I’d say that his years salary didn’t mean much to Tyren’s wealth. (Tyren)Chapter 2: For the Legacy “Gather!” A booming voice echoes through the old brick halls of the guildhall, and immediately after the shout, you can hear the numerous pairs of feet trampling down the stairs. I move down the stairs slowly, allowing the more energetic members to brush past me on the stairs as they pine for seats closer to the front. As the last of the members file into the room and clamber into their chairs as they stare at the guild leaders. Each of the four men known far and wide for their acts of bravery and skill but have since aged past their prime but their knowledge acts as a whetstone for the generations to follow them. I stand at the back of the room as I listen to the leaders’ debrief. “Good afternoon” Vexlan Worth, the eldest of the Sentinels (the leaders) says in his gruff voice “We’ve received an urgent request from the Viscount of Holmsan, apparently the entire region has been plagued by the undead and other creatures, after only a week of the attacks two hundred townsmen have been found dead.” The members listen intently, I spaced in and out of the debrief, considering I was the scout that obtained this information and was the liaison between the guild and Holmsan. “Tyren is the agent that picked the job up for us and did all the preemptive surveillance” Vexlan explains as he waves me up silently to the front of the group “Explain your findings, kid” I nod my head as he pats me on the back “Alright guys, I scouted the entire region for two weeks and in that time I saw more chaos than you can imagine but have sourced all of it to a single location.”A flurry of hands raise before me and I pick the closest hand “Yes?” “Have you sourced this problem as a magical, mystic, or human threat?” The man aks promptly. “Seems to be magical or mystic, but have contracted a mage from Genova to accompany the first regiment of soldiers to do a more comprehensive investigation.” I look around the group as I continue to answer questions. “Ya did good” Vexlan’s deep voice says as he speeds up to walk next to me as I make my way towards the dining hall. I raise an eyebrow as I slowly grab a cigarette from a pocket on my leather jerkin “Did good?” “On debriefing the boys” He points to the War Room “They seemed excited and ready for the job” I nod my head, agreeing with him about the men. They seemed fired up for this mission but considering the steep price the rich mining town was willing to pay certainly helped overall motivations. “Thanks, Vex” Vexlan waves away the thank you “No need, kid” He meets eyes with me “Meet me in my office once you’ve eaten” Vex doesn’t wait for a reply before walking away towards the spiral staircase that leads to his office. “Tyren!” A deep voice booms from within the dining hall, the voice belonging to a large man sitting at the back of the dining hall with one other person. The owner of the voice is named Gerran Striden, a hulking man with a face that used to be kind but after numerous daring battles his face is scarred and looks tough but his spirit hasn’t been scarred as I take a seat beside him. “Good scouting out there!” Gerran laughs as one huge hand pats me on the back “You practically did the whole mission before coming back!” He winks to the other person at the table whose name is Yuveri Tallow, a monk from the distant lands of Hiotian “We practically just have to kick down the door and say hello!” Gerran laughs which catches the attention of every member in the dining hall. Yuveri laughs heartily “Gerran is one for exaggeration,” he begins “but he isn’t exaggerating about this; good job Tyren” Yuveri puts his palms together and bows his head before me. I return the gesture as I grab a plate from the middle of the table. “Scouting is the easy part” I say simply as I grab food from the numerous dishes piled with steaming hot food. The doors leading to Vexlan’s office were massive, standing at fifteen feet tall and twelve feet across but a smaller door was carved into the left door. The door was open as I enter the office which was a room with a ceiling that rose way above me head and countless shelves of books wrapped around the room. A stack of paper hid Vexlan at his desk but he spoke once I entered. “Shut the door, would you?” I nod as I turn around to shut the smaller door behind me.“Thanks for coming” Vexlan begins “I’d rather not beat around the bush, I’d like you to be the next Sentinel” The words hit me like a morning star “Excuse me?” Vexlan laughs heartily “I’ve conferred with the others and they all agree. If you’d like, we invite you to be the fifth sentinel.” I nod my head, my heart knowing the answer before my mind did as the words leave my lips without a thought “It’d be an honor.” Vexlan beams and extends his hand “As in tradition, once you’ve returned from your legacy mission, we’ll announce your position.” I nod my head, realizing the newly founded importance of this mission. “My legacy mission?” I think to myself as Vexlan continues to speak, my mind swept away to visions of grandeur. “This mission is yours to run as you see fit.” Vexlan says, the words snapping me from my fantastical reverie. “Yessir!” The first thing I have to do is assemble a team to handle the important parts of the mission. Gerran and Yuveri were for sure going on that team but the rest was a mystery until I realize something. “It’s Leo’s birthday tomorrow…” And then the next member of the team became obvious “I wonder how much stronger he’s gotten” I think to myself as I walk to my room, reminiscing about the sparring session we had the day I left to seek out my fortune. He’d wiped the floor with me.” I sit as my desk as I begin writing a letter. Using the expensive, fancy ink I’d purchased after my first job in the guild. “Leo,” The letter begins.

(Wailes)Chapter 3: An Odd Job

“Wailes!” A voice yells at me suddenly, ripping me away from the intriguing passage about multi-layered weapon enchantment. “What?!” I shout reply.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for ten minutes, mate.” The young man points up “The man upstairs wants to see you.”

I roll my eyes as I place a Gearwind Eagle’s feather onto the page I was reading as I close the book and stand to my feet, straightening my dark blue robes with my free hand as I make my way to the staircase. This entire building was built into a massive tree that has deep and mysterious magical properties and the steps leading to the Dean’s office were no different, carved straight from the tree, the stairs crude as they spiral towards a wooden orb that’s suspended by roots. The doorway is circular and the door rolls to the right as I approach, revealing a well lit study with looming bookcases.

“Wailes, over here!” A small voice says within a dome of floating, orbiting books, the pages flipping, as I see between the gaps in the book, the Dean’s eyes moving like quicksilver as he absorbs hours of information in minutes.

“Dean Yorif” I say in a small bow, one of the only practitioners in this place that is strong enough to earn my respect.

“Interrupt your studying, did I?” The Dean asks with a smile as he continues to read the orbiting books

“Not at all, sir” I lie

“Oh come now, I can see the look on your face, it’s the same face I make when I’m interrupted!” the dean laughs as the books all close in unison and float to their spots on the shelves.

I nod my head in admission as I go to take a seat in a chair sitting in front of his desk. Dean Yorif is small in stature, standing only a several inches taller than a dwarf but his wisdom makes up for the lack in size. Yorif pulls himself into his chair as he rests his hand on his desk. The desk not designed for him but a gift from the Dean before him so he looked even smaller in contrast to the large desk.

“I’ve received a job from another guild.” Yorif says simply, waiting for intrigue to show on my features. My features are as stone as he rolls his eyes and continues “The guild being the Goldmeyer’s Warriors Guild”

“Goldmeyer’s?” That name catching my interest. That’s no ordinary guild, but one of the most renowned guilds in history. Responsible for ending wars and killing demon lords and distinctly keep their contracts to themselves.

“Why are they outsourcing?” I immediately ask

Dean Yorif smiles as a fisherman would after successfully hooking a fish and begins to reel me in “There wizards were useless when they attempted to investigate and decode the spellwork. So they figured we would have the knowledge necessary.”

“This is a pretty important job” I say with a raised eyebrow, wondering if this conversation is going where I hoped it was.

“Yes, I referred you for the job.” Yorif could see the question before I had time to ask, the wrinkles around his eyes sometimes masking his razor sharp eyes.

Yorif hands over a folder, containing the information on the job as he strokes the extravagant, white mustache that cascades down each corner of his mouth, passing his jawline.

“These are signs of-” Dean Yorif raises a hand before I finish speaking, nodding his head grimly. “That’s why I’ve chosen you, Wailes” He interlaces his fingers as he stares at me with proud eyes “You’ve studied them more extensively than anyone I know.”

I nod my head as I storm up from my seat and as I leave his study I say over my shoulder “I’ve got some research to do!”

Yorif chuckles as he waves a hand and the door rolls back into place as I leave his office.

I immediately began rolling through my archive-like thoughts, my mind recollecting all of the research I’d done over the years. I push past multiple other students as I make my way to the restricted section of the West side library. Only two other mages had access to this section and allowed me the solitude I’d need for the research I’m about to conduct. I have to be ready and in Leonos in two days, so that leaves a day of research and a day by air to make it to Leonos. My eyes and attention tear into the pages of the books within the restricted section as I begin my hastened research.

#story time #off the top of my head #off the dome #tumblr writers #literature #imagination #exercise #thanks for reading #hope you enjoy #writing community

0 notes

imaginebeatles · 7 years

Text

Art and Obligation | Chapter 19

Pairing: John/Paul

Rating: Nc-17 (PG-13, for this chapter)

Set in: 1820s (au)

Summary: John Lennon works as the apprentice of a well-known portraitist and is tasked to do the picture of the young Mr. Paul McCartney. He is the son of Jim McCartney, a wealthy and powerful landowner, and has the reputation of an arrogant, spoilt brat with a pretty face, who has a way of wrapping anyone around his finger. But soon John finds that things are not as straightforward as they may seem.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Beatles and this is fictional. I do not make money off this.

Author’s note: Surprise! Finally after ages and ages of waiting the next chapter has finally arrived. Thank you everyone for being patient and I hope you won��t be disappointed with this chapter :) Also, happy happy birthday to my lovely and wonderful ray of sunshine, Paul, who was born on this day 75 years ago! I love you, sweet darling boy.

George and Pattie’s home was located at the edge of the McCartney estate, past the woods and alongside a small creek wherein the local children played when they thought their parents weren’t watching, and wherein the dogs washed their mud-covered paws. It was almost a tiny village in itself, separate from the city of Liverpool, with one narrow, cobblestone road snaking and twisting and weaving itself between and around a number of stone cottages, none of which were particularly large and were sometimes shared between two of three families. Most of them had a little green garden at the front, simple but well-kept, where mothers hung the laundry to dry in the warm but weak light of the English sun, and dogs lay snoring before they were awoken by the men and dragged along for business. The odd cat ran past, chasing a mouse, and birds chirped as they flew over or rested on the eaves of the houses where they were safe from the predators on the ground below. At the end of the little street, where it gently transitioned into a dirt road that disappeared over a gentle hill and further into the city, was the smallest of all cottages. It was the cottage of the Harrisons, which they shared with Miss May and her old father, the latter of whom sat sulking in an old rocking chair at the front of the garden by the stone, waist-high wall that bordered it. A few feet away from him, Pattie was pulling the dry laundry from the clothesline and into a laundry basket that stood by her naked feet, her blond hair tied up rather messily and covered by a shawl, and her swollen belly clearly visible in the green dress she was wearing.

It was still early morning, the sun only having gone up about an hour ago, when it had shone into the bedroom of the eldest McCartney son, who had laid awake in his bed, unable to sleep any more than he had, which hadn’t been long. Not wanting to lie in bed for any longer, he had gotten up as soon as the light had hit his face, put on some simple clothes and decided to go on an early walk to enjoy the morning sun while he still could, taking Martha along with him, who had still been fast asleep at the foot end of the bed. He hadn’t considered visiting George and Pattie until he had found himself walking in the general direction of their home, but now he saw Pattie standing outside, quietly doing the laundry, he knew it had been a good idea. She put the last of the white shirts that Paul supposed were George’s into the basket, and had been about to pick it up when she caught sight of him from the corner of her eye and turned towards him to greet him with a broad, yet careful smile.

“Paul! I didn’t expect to see you here! How are you?” she asked, picking up the basket, which she propped up under her arm, the bottom balancing on her right hip. Her usually sweet face, with stunning blue eyes, rounded cheeks, and round lips that revealed the split between her two front teeth as she smiled, looked uncharacteristically tense, as if she were distrusting of the intention of his visit. But if she preferred to have him leave, she didn’t show it, her uncertain smile being nothing but inviting nonetheless. When he didn’t approach, she beckoned him to come over.

“I am fine, thank you, Pattie. I thought I’d come by and say hi. I know it’s been a while and I promised George I would, so I figured… it’s not a bad time, is it?” Paul asked as he walked over to her, snapping his fingers to indicate Martha to follow him. Pattie’s smile broadened even more and she shook her head as she unlocked the gate for him, allowing him to step inside and kiss her cheek. Martha happily trotted inside after him as well, and laid down in the sun against the cool stone wall of the little cottage, arranging herself in such a manner that as much of her body as possible lay on the cool tiles and her head rested on her paws with as little effort as possible, looking relaxed and pleased with herself. Always loyal and protective of her master, though, she kept her eyes on Paul as he continued to speak with Pattie, in case something were to happen to him, and let out an occasional huff as she rested from their unusual early-morning walk.

“Of course it’s not a bad time,” Pattie said when Paul removed his lips from her cheek, and she gently squeezed his arm in return. “George is busy working inside, but he can come down for a cup of tea. If you would like that, of course.”

Paul nodded in response. “That sounds lovely, Pattie. And er… congratulations,” he said, as he let his eyes fall on her rounded belly. Pattie flushed at his words and smiled as her hand unwittingly went to her stomach to rub it tenderly, as if afraid something were to hurt it, before she turned around and ushered him over the small gravel pathway and up to the house, causing Martha to look up in curiosity.

“George is working on the baby’s room,” Pattie explained as she opened the front door and beckoned him inside, and, true to her words, as Paul entered the small cottage he could hear stumbling up on the first floor that did not sound all together promising. “My mother brought us my old crib last week, which he has decided needed some work. It would have been endearing if it wasn’t for the fact that I am constantly worried he’ll hurt himself.”

“He hasn’t yet, has he?” Paul asked, concerned, as he took off his coat and hung it on one of the pegs on the wall. His eyes travelled up the stairs, but it was too dark at the top of it for him to make anything out.

“I haven’t heard him cry out in pain yet, which can’t be anything but positive, although there is the odd curse. I just figure, as long as he isn’t screaming or wailing, he is fine,” Pattie explained, though she looked somewhat unsure about her own reasoning as she nibbled her bottom lip. Paul, however, nodded in agreement, which appeared to put her more at ease. “Could you go upstairs and ask him to come down for tea? I’ll put the kettle on. He’ll be glad to see you.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good. I’ll call you when it’s ready,” Pattie said and Paul nodded again as he watched her walk into the kitchen and pull the door shut behind herself, leaving him standing alone in the hallway. Martha, who had walked inside with them, laid down against the front door and licked her paws for a moment before resting her head on the brick flooring and closing her eyes to catch up on her sleep. Paul himself let out a deep sigh, scratched his dog behind her ear, and started to ascend the stairs to the first floor, where he began to hear the soft melodic humming of his friend, which guided him into the direction of a small room at the end of the corridor, the door of which was left ajar. He knocked before slowly pushing it further open.

“George?” he asked, and not long after a loud curse followed. Frowning, Paul pushed the door all the way open to reveal the man in question sitting knelt on the floor by the half-finished crib that stood against the wall, a simple wooden one that looked like it had been assembled and dissembled numerous times over the last fifty or sixty years, holding his thumb in his hand as he sucked on it. A hammer laid dropped on the ground beside his knee, and George was shooting it death glares as he mumbled some inaudible curses at it, the words being obstructed by the thumb in his mouth.

“George? Are you okay?” Paul asked, and hurriedly bit back an amused grin as George turned around to him. The man’s mood, however, cleared substantially at the sight of his friend and he was quick to pull his thumb from his mouth as he scrambled up from the floor, muttering Paul’s name in a faint kind of greeting. He straightened out his clothes before he walked over to pull him into a hug, which Paul awkwardly returned – he never could get used to the freedom with which George regarded him when they were in private.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were coming,” George said once he had released him and Paul shrugged his shoulders in reply.

“I told you I would visit you and Pattie soon, didn’t I? Besides, I really needed to get away from everyone for a while.”

“The Ashers, right?”

Paul nodded, but didn’t elaborate on it and instead let his eyes fall onto the crib George had been working on. “The crib is coming along well, I see. Pattie told me you were working on it,” he said in a poor attempt to change the subject. George, however, went along with it regardless.

“Slowly but surely. I have never been very good at this kind of handiwork, but it’s necessary, you know? Pattie’s afraid I’ll kill myself, though. Not that I blame her for it. But well…”

Paul hummed in reply and looked around. It was a cosy room, the bedroom they were in, and Paul was certain it would make for a nice nursery once it had been finished. The walls were painted in a cheerful pale yellow, a rather clumsy job, with some of the paint having ended up onto the dark brown ceiling above, and alongside the window hung a short flower-patterned curtain that rested on the windowsill. Besides the crib, the room contained a ragged rug that lay on the wooden floor to soften it, a chest-of-drawers that was placed against the wall opposite the window, onto which some towels and other pieces of cloth lay, probably left there to be stored away later, and a large leather chair that stood beside it, looking comfortable despite its age. In the corner of the room stood an old rocking horse that appeared to be just as old, if not older, as the crib, which made Paul suspect Pattie’s mother had brought them that one too. It would be a cosy little nursery once it was done, and Paul didn’t doubt George and Pattie would prove to be good parents, although the thought of seeing George with a small child in his arms, was still hard for him to imagine and almost made him feel slightly sick. Feeling himself get rather faint, he flopped himself down in the leather chair and closed his eye for a moment.

“Are you feeling okay?” George asked, and Paul shook his head as he listened to the man’s footsteps approaching the crib again. “If you’d like to talk about it...”

“No. No, I simply haven’t slept well the last few days. I never do whilst I’m travelling and now with Jane… I will be fine in a few days,” Paul said, forcing a smile to put the other man at ease. It came out looking, however, like a pained grin, which instead had the opposite effect.

“Paul, you didn’t… you didn’t do anything while you were in Paris, did you?” he asked and Paul groaned at the question, which he ought to have known would come sooner or later.

“George…” he tried, but he continued as he took a couple of steps towards him, while maintaining a polite distance, ever aware of the uneven power relation between them. At the moment, though, it annoyed Paul more than anything else. Not that George appeared to notice.

“Because, Paul, with the engagement between you and Jane about to be made official, you cannot afford-“

“I know, George,” Paul cut in with an exasperated sigh, raising one of his hands to rub at the corners of his eyes in an attempt to lift some tension, but George had not yet finished.

“If anyone were to find out, especially now-“

“I know, Geo,” Paul snapped, cutting George off with more force than what would have been necessary. There was a lingering silence in the room, and Paul could feel that the other man’s eyes were still on him, but he stubbornly refused to acknowledge him as he leaned back in his chair, needing some time to collect himself. After another minute or so, he finally opened his eyes again and noticed George had gone back to working on the crib, and was busy hammering the bars into their respective places. When he began to speak, he looked up, but did not pause in his work.

“It’s so strange to imagine this is truly happening, you know. You and Pattie getting a baby together, Mike getting married to Angela, me and Jane getting engaged, officially that is… It’s not that I don’t like her Geo, but…”

“You wish you didn’t have to,” George finished for him and Paul nodded in reply.

“Everything is just so fucked up, you know?” he concluded and when George merely nodded, Paul let out a rather irritated huff, only to shake his head at himself in disapproval after. “Strange thing is,” he continued, “it doesn’t seem that long ago when we were still children. Remember that, Geo? Just us two, running around together, playing silly games and pretending we were the knights of the round table, saving Liverpool from all kinds of evil. Remember that?”

“Certainly. Neither of us ever wanted to play Arthur. You were always Lancelot, the best and most chivalrous knight who could sweep any young lady of her feet – or boy, I suppose, in your case.” George giggled at his words and Paul too could not help the smile that pulled at his lips at the memory, his heart filling with a warm, fuzzy feeling he had not felt again since those days in Paris with John. Even back then, when he couldn’t have been older than six or seven, he was pretending to be saving handsome men, lords, and princes as young Sir Lancelot with the help of his trusted friend, companion and mentor.

“And you were always Merlin, giving me all your prophecies, which never turned out to come true-“ he said, chuckling. George joined in soon after.

“More often than not because you’d change the rules every other moment whenever it suited you!”

“As if you were any better, Mr ‘my magic is the most powerful magic there is, so I can do anything and everything I want to, even when that defies all logic and every rule we had established’! At least I bothered to change to the rules, while you just didn’t care for them at all!”

“I cared!” George objected, laughing, despite the fact that both knew that wasn’t true. “Do you remember that time we asked Miss Asher to join us?”

“Oh yes! The damsel in distress who didn’t want to be saved,” Paul mused as images of that day flashed before his eyes, and chuckled as he remembered how Jane had outright refused to come with him and let herself be saved, once he had managed to make his way through the dark, dangerous, magical woods with Merlin’s help. She had gone on alone instead, after which she had put a fake wooden crown on her head and declared herself to be ‘Queen’ Arthur, and thus ruler over the two of them, giving her the ability to boss them around as much as she saw fit. “She always had a passion for acting, drama, and theatre, even back then. Oh, how I miss those days. Everything was still so simple. Every marriage was over as soon as you stopped playing, there were no babies, no obligations, and as many pretty boys to save as your mind could conjure up. Not that… not that I am not happy for you and Pattie, of course, George.”

“No, I understand. I feel the same way now that it is truly happening. If it wasn’t for the fact that Pattie’s belly has grown so much, I wouldn’t have been able to believe it, if I’m honest. It is scary though, having a child on the way; a small living creature that is completely dependent on you, and that you have to keep alive and be responsible for. Pattie’s mother thinks it’s too soon for us, that we’re too young, and although I am happy we’re going to be blessed with a child, especially after the last time when it went wrong, I sometimes cannot help but fear she is right. It’s… it’s a lot, you know?”

“No,” Paul answered after a brief moment of thought. “No, I don’t know.”

They remained silent for a few more moments, before finally Pattie’s voice came rising up from below, calling them down for tea, to which the two boys happily complied. They made their way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Pattie had already taken a seat at the kitchen table and motioned them to sit down as well. Three steaming mugs of tea were placed on the table, along with a small saucer with a couple of biscuits. Martha once again followed her owner inside and laid down at his feet, so Paul could pet here if he so wished, which he did from time to time as he drunk his tea and spoke with George and Pattie about some general things and the baby, until Pattie inquired after Jane Asher and his engagement to her. He could see the worried look on George’s face as his wife brought it up, but he merely smiled and answered her questions, somewhere feeling glad to be able to talk about it with someone who did not find it of the utmost importance that the marriage would succeed.

The Asher had arrived yesterday morning like his father had told him they would, and he had done his best to look his best and be there on time to welcome them as was desired of him. His father had been most pleased to see him looking presentable as he had come down the stairs at just the right moment, and Paul had not been able to repress the sigh of relief at the look of approval on his father’s face, which the latter luckily had not noticed. His brother, on the other hand, had noticed and had looked somewhat worried still, being well aware of the eldest McCartney’s feelings towards the match, but Paul had behaved his best and once lunch had ended and the Ashers had been escorted upstairs to their rooms, his father had even told him he was proud of him, something that happened only rarely, and Paul would be lying if he said it did not affect him.

Jane had been as dazzling as ever, being polite and sincere to everyone who spoke or even looked at her, and looking absolutely stunning as she had climbed out of the carriage, wearing a deep purple dress with a tight bodice that suited her surprisingly well, and had managed to look both approachable and kind as well as intimidating at the same time, which was one of the qualities Paul liked most about her. He hadn’t spoken to her much, though, having kept his distance from her and her family as well as everyone else, preferring to be left alone with his thoughts. He had been glad when the day had finally ended and he could retire for the evening. Except that evening, as he had laid sleepless in his bed, he had not been able to stop thinking about future, about Jane, about their marriage, about John, whom he still had to tell the “happy” news, something which he wasn’t looking forward to.

He stayed at the Harrison’s for about another hour and a half, discussing various topics and feeling generally happy to be away from his family for a while and not have to think about them, before he decided he’d better leave. It was nearing nine ‘o clock, which meant the rest of the house would awaken soon and go down for breakfast around ten-ish, perhaps a little earlier, where his father would expect him to be present and be just as gentlemanly as the day before. He hadn’t yet had any breakfast himself, either, and his stomach was beginning to protest at the lack of food Paul offered it, the biscuits Pattie had put down for them not being enough. George and Pattie understood though, and George immediately got to his feet to see Paul out.

“Thanks, Geo,” Paul said as the younger man got him his coat and helped him into it, while Pattie rummaged around in the kitchen to find Martha a little snack for the road as she always did when they visited. Once she got her treat, Martha came trotting back out of the kitchen with a piece of old bread in her mouth, her tail wagging in excitement, and began munching eagerly on it as she stood beside Paul, ready to leave whenever he so desired. Paul smiled at the sight of her and ran his fingers through her fur, before turning back around to see Pattie emerge from the kitchen as well, both of her hands holding her back as she rubbed it. George immediately took over as soon as he saw it.

“I er…” Paul started somewhat uncertain, knowing now was the only chance he had to bring up the issue he really needed to talk to them about. “I also spoke to my father yesterday, George. About the raise you asked me about?”

George, immediately interested in what his friend had to say, looked up at him expectantly, his hands halting for a moment. “Yes?”

“Well… I cannot promise anything for certain, but he did say he would be willing to consider it. He wants to speak with you first, before he comes to a final decision, and I am not sure how much he’s willing to consider, but he didn’t refuse!”

“Oh, Paul! That is wonderful! Thank you!” Pattie exclaimed before her husband had any time to say anything, and George could only nod in agreement to his wife’s words.

“Yes! Yes, thank you. I really appreciate you doing this for us, Paul,” he finally managed to say, but Paul shrugged it off, shaking his head.

“It was no problem. I told you I would talk to him. I was only lucky he was in a good mood now the Ashers are here,” he said with a pained smile, but George and Pattie insisted on thanking him nonetheless, both being well aware how difficult James McCartney could be, especially about business issues. Again Paul insisted that the raise wasn’t yet certain – his father had the annoying quality of changing his mind as easily as he did everything else – but both George and Pattie assured him they knew, so Paul left the conversation as it was and bid them both goodbye, before he stepped outside and started making his way back to the manor, Martha following closely behind.

It was a nice day, with only a few puffy white clouds drifting overhead, birds chirping cheerily in the trees, and despite the chill that hung in the air, the lack of wind made it surprisingly comfortable weather to go for a walk. Martha was happily running around, chasing various little bugs and birds that were quick to fly away and escape her big fluffy paws and eager mouth. Paul whistled a tune as he watched her, forcing himself to clear his mind and enjoy the nature around him as they slowly came close and closer to home.

They hadn’t gone far yet, though, or Martha suddenly spurted away with a couple of happy barks, tearing Paul away from his mindless thoughts as he called after her, shouting at her to come back, which she didn’t.

“Martha! Martha, come back here!” Paul shouted again as he sped up his pace, his calm walking pace transitioning into a jog as he went after her, cursing at himself as he wondered what she could possibly have seen that would cause her to run away. She wasn’t usually the kind of dog to do that, and tended to stay in close proximity to him even when they were on a walk like now. His questions were soon answered, though, when Martha came running back to him, her tongue hanging from her mouth and her tail wagging again in enthusiasm, with Jane following closely after her, carrying a large basket in one hand, as she held onto her hat with the other.

“J-Jane…” he muttered, halting in surprise at the sight of her. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, of course! We barely spoke yesterday and well… when one of your servants told me you had gone on an early walk, I thought you might be hungry,” Jane answered with a broad smile as she lifted the basket for emphasis, making her intention more than clear, and beckoned him over. “Come on, let’s find a good spot. Somewhere private would be good. Can’t have anyone interrupting our little picnic now, can we?” she joked with a cheery laugh, and Paul responded in kind as he nodded and hurried over to her. His stomach growled impatiently at the promise of food.

The two of them didn’t take long to find a good spot for their picnic. Jane had always loved the lake, which wasn’t too far away, so they folded out their generous-sized blanket along the waterside, allowing Jane to take off her shoes and stockings and dangle her feet in the water like she used to do when she was a child, while Paul laid down on his side beside her with his legs curled up around her as he made them sandwiches, offered her some fresh fruit, buttered the scones she had managed to procure for them, and handed her some orange juice or sparkling wine whenever she asked. It was a peaceful and quiet moment and Paul felt grateful for her idea to do this, being glad to be out of the sight of their ever-watchful families.

They mostly sat in silence, listening to the sounds of nature as they ate, while Jane occupied herself by fingering some wild flowers she had picked from her immediate surroundings, carefully lacing them together to create a long line of them. Paul kept to studying her, taking in every little movement of his fingers, the way the sun made her hair look an almost fiery red, rather than the copper colour he was used to, and the way her lips seemed to move as she hummed a soft tune. Occasionally, he would look across the lake and allow his mind to drift away into an almost dream-like state; thoughtless, calm, serene, and for a moment it seemed like he truly would this time. Before he could drift off completely, however, Jane pulled him back into reality by laying a gentle hand on his arm, catching his attention.

“What is on your mind?” she asked. Paul pretended not to know what she was talking about, and only shrugged as he picked up the last piece of his current sandwich and finished it. “You are preoccupied today,” Jane continued, but Paul again didn’t answer. “You were yesterday as well. Don’t think I don’t notice.”

“It’s not often you hear you are going to get married,” Paul said in reply, but Jane only hummed at his answer, and looked back at her work as she knotted the two ends of the line of flowers together, creating a circle.

“Sit up,” she said as she turned back to her fiancé, gently holding the ring of flowers in her hand. Paul did as she said, leaning forward when she told him to, and chuckled as she placed the flowers on his head.

“What are you doing?” he asked. He reached up to feel for himself, but Jane was quick to bat his hands away.

“Don’t touch it! You’ll ruin it. And it’s a flower crown, which - Look up at me, perfect – is going to make you look pretty,” Jane explained, as she adjusted the flower crown on Paul’s head with a gentle hand, afraid to accidentally break the crown.

“I am always pretty, remember?” Paul reminded her with a wink, but Jane gave him a look of disapproval as she shook his head. “But I am!”

“Don’t get cocky.” She gave the flower crown one last gentle tug and ran her fingers through his hair to add a little more volume, making the who look appear more natural, before she sat back and considered him for a moment. Once she was certain everything was perfect and secure, her lips curled up in a wide smile.

“Good?” Paul asked and Jane nodded.

“Perfect. As always.”

“I aim for nothing less, darling,” he said and Jane chuckled in response. After their laughter had died down, though, it remained silent between them for a moment, neither knowing what to do or say. In the end, Paul decided on taking a sip from his sparkling wine, his throat feeling rather dry. It was Jane, however, who ended the silence.

“Paul?” she asked, and paused to study him for a moment, before she continued her question. “What is on your mind?”

“Nothing!”

“You can tell me,” she assured him, but when Paul didn’t answer, she said, “I’ll go first!”

“Go first?” Paul repeated, unsure what she meant, but Jane merely nodded in reply.

“Yes! I’ll admit something first, and then you can tell me what’s been bothering you afterwards. It is only fair, don’t you agree? Okay,” she paused for a moment to adjust the way she was sitting, making herself more comfortable, before she continued, “I acted.”

“Acted? You acted?” Paul repeated, and Jane nodded as she smiled proudly.

“I did! Oh Paul, it was wonderful. I went to the theatre with my father – he had to be there for business and brought me along to keep him company – and while I was waiting for him to finish his meeting with the theatre manager, I explored a little and well… one of the male actors noticed me snooping around backstage, spying on the rehearsal that was going on for their new play, and asked if I wanted to try it out myself. Of course I couldn’t refuse such an offer!”

“Who was the actor?” Paul asked with a grin, and Jane hit his arm at his cheekiness.

“It is not what you think. I am not like you,” she said, but Paul only grinned wider, knowing better than to believe such a blatant lie, and so she hit him again. “I hate you.”

“I doubt that. But never mind him, then, if you want to be a tease about it. What did you play?”

“Shakespeare, of course. What else did you think I was going to play?”

“Which play? What role?”

“Hamlet!”

“Don’t tell me you did the whole ‘To be or not to be’ speech?”

“And so what if I did?”

“It is a cliché! Never mind the fact that it’s a man’s role.”

“Might be, but it’s still a dream to play such a role as Hamlet, isn’t it? And well… at first men played women, so now it’s the women’s time to play men, don’t you think? It is only fair,” Jane said and Paul snickered at that, but couldn’t think of any good argument to bring in against that statement, so he agreed with a shrug of his shoulder and picked up his wine glass.

“I’ll drink to that,” he said, taking a sip, and Jane happily joined him as she took a sip herself as well. “You know,” Paul continued as he put his glass back down on the grass next to him, “I’ve always enjoyed good old Will, and I do love that line from Hamlet that Polonius speaks: ‘to thine own self be true’. It would be good if more people lived like that, don’t you think?” Jane shrugged.

“If only it ever was that easy,” she mused.

“It should be,” Paul said and this time it was Jane’s turn t nod. Sighing, she put her glass of wine back down and leaned forward to run her fingers through the water, thoughtfully playing with it as Paul followed her movements.

“Jane,” he said after another moment of silence, feeling his hands get clammy as she looked up at him, their eyes locking, and he took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself, trying his best to ignore the rapid pacing of his heart in his chest. The best, he rationalised, was to just get it out in the open. “I er… I have another lover.”

If Jane was surprised she hid it well. She didn’t say a word and simply stared at him for a while, her body and face unmoving, giving nothing away, before she let out another sigh and nodded. “Who?”

“An artist. Painter to be exact. He’s handsome, young, about two years older than me. He’s sweet, funny, talented,” Paul answered truthfully, and again Jane simply nodded, her face expressionless.

“Do you love him?” she asked and Paul was momentarily startled by the question, making it difficult for him to speak, but once he finally found his voice, he told her he didn’t know, and again Jane nodded.

“Is that strange? Not knowing if you love someone?” he asked, frowning at his own inability to answer a question that was so easily formulated. It wasn’t that he was afraid to tell her, that he was afraid he would hurt her feelings if he said he did. He just truly did not know. Did John love him? Wasn’t it enough prove that he couldn’t say he didn’t love him? When did you know you loved someone anyway?

“No. It’s not strange,” Jane said, interrupting his thoughts and she smiled at him as she reached over to pick up another sandwich. She handed it to him and Paul took it. “It is normal. Now, finish that. We should probably get back before anyone starts to miss us and goes looking for us.”

Paul nodded in agreement and did as she had told him to while Jane put her stockings and shoes back on and started to clear the blanket and put everything back into the basket, while letting Martha finish their left-overs. By the time Paul had finished his sandwich, they were ready to leave, so he got up from the grass, took the basket from her and offered her his arm as they started to make their way back to the manor, Martha once again following closely behind them.

“Jane?” Paul asked as the manor began to come into view. “Thank you.”

“For what?” she asked, frowning as she glanced up at him, her pretty face looking positively puzzled. Paul smiled at the sight.

“For understanding. For not being mad at me,” he said and Jane chuckled at that as she shook her head and called him silly. She paused in her tracks to stand up on her tiptoes and press a sisterly kiss to his scruffy, unshaven cheek.

Previous Chapter

#fanfiction #beatles fanfiction #BEATLES SLASH #The Beatles #McLennon #mclennon fanfiction #JohnxPaul #John #Paul #PG-13 #au #Art and Obligation

34 notes · View notes

swfanficbyjz · 7 years

Text

SW AU - Fate of the Master Chapter 13

<- Previous Chapter

Anakin stirred, surprised to see Luke asleep huddled against him as though he was cold. He remembered that feeling well when he'd first left the desert planet to cooler climates. He reached to the side and grabbed a blanket to throw over him. He'd been scared when Padmé had first told him she was pregnant. He had never considered being a father. He'd been living his life with the assumption that it could never happen. They had both been in too precarious of situations to risk it. But it had happened anyways. And the moment she'd told him, he had felt his whole world start unraveling.

As he gazed down at Luke, now, and then to Leia asleep in the bed nearby, he wondered what he'd been so afraid of. His main concern now was wondering what kind of life he could offer them. He had no home, no career, no stability. He'd told Bail that if Leia wanted to stay with him and Breha that was fine. He wouldn't force her to come live with him wherever he ended up. But Luke was a different story. His aunt and uncle must be worried sick about him, there'd been too much going on since they'd left Tatooine to work in getting a message to them to tell them he was safe. And now that Luke had found his twin, he didn't want to stray too far from her. Their bond was so strong already, it would be difficult to separate them again. Bail had offered to take the boy in too. But Luke had said he wanted to stay with Anakin and Ahsoka, as long as it meant not being too far from his sister. Anakin had no idea how they were going to work that out. He planned to talk it over with Ahsoka in the morning. Obi wan had left with Kanan and Ezra to help out the other two systems that had been hit by this attack. They'd agreed the rest of them would join them later.

Anakin liked the feel of Luke curled up into him, but he'd been worried about Ahsoka all evening and wanted to go check on her. Ever since the gray Jedi talk, she'd seemed a little peakish, like something they discussed had really bothered her. It was a lot to take in, but what he'd felt coming off of her was the force equivalent to hyperventilating.

She'd done so much in the effort to protect him. Was finding out it had been foretold all that scary? Or was it something else entirely? He'd sensed there was more to the dreams she'd mentioned, but she had refused to tell it. What could it be?

He tried to shift a bit so that Luke would lean the other way, and eventually he managed to get up. He put another blanket over him and then slipped out of the room trying not to disturb anyone.

Anakin froze in the doorway of Ahsoka's room. The bed was made, the hospital gown was neatly folded on the edge, with the robe she'd been wearing next to it. She was gone, and so were her clothes and her lightsabers. He hadn't thought she'd been upset enough to run away. What was going on?

He turned to run down the hallway only to almost trip over a little blue and white astromech droid. "Artoo!" The droid beeped back at him. "Do you know where Ahsoka went?" R2 turned on his projector in the quiet hallway of the hospital wing.

"If you're watching this," the holoimage of Ahsoka said, "you've probably noticed I'm gone. But don't worry about me, Anakin. There's something I have to do on my own. Questions that need answering. I'm not abandoning you, I promise. I'll be back. But until then, trust yourself, you'll be alright. I love you." The image flickered out.

Anakin crouched down in front of the droid as if staring into its ocular sensors would reveal where Ahsoka had gone. "Could you play it again?" He asked R2D2. The droid replayed the recording and Anakin felt tears in his eyes. She'd told him that she loved him, but she'd left without saying anything. Had she felt like she didn't belong in his life now that he had two kids? It had been hard to admit all the stuff about Padmé, afraid that she'd be hurt. But Ahsoka had taken it as though it hadn't phased her. She'd always known, she had claimed. And she'd purposely held back her own feelings for his sake. Was she doing that again?

He knew Ahsoka better than he knew anyone. She'd always worn her emotions on her sleeve. When she was struggling to understand something, she wouldn't hesitate to ask. She'd seek advice when she needed. And through it all, he had trusted her completely. Believing that he knew her soul.

But something had changed in her since she'd left the temple all those years ago. He'd first noticed it when she'd come to him seeking help to restore Mandalore and end Maul's chaotic rule there.

He hadn't known what it meant. And he hadn't had time to find out. Because shortly after they'd gathered the troops to go, he'd gotten the call that the chancellor had been kidnapped. He'd been forced to leave her to fight Maul alone. She'd watched him from the open blast door of the gunship as it had lifted off. Something in her expression... as the memory stirred it reminded him of his first op as general, leading a squadron as it left Coruscant. He'd stared out the transparisteel glass of the battle ship as though he'd never see it again. He'd left countless times before, but for some reason that day, he had felt as though nothing would ever be the same again. He'd been partially right, of course, everything had changed. In spite of returning time and time again. Ahsoka had been there that day too. Standing by his side feeling the fear and pain coming off of him in waves. She'd stuck it out with him anyways.

Had she known when she left on that mission to Mandalore that things would be changing again? As the memory of the expression on her face washed over him, he felt a spear of ice hit his heart. He shivered remembering the cold that had consumed him after that. He'd never put two and two together, but now that he thought about it... there had been something so final about that goodbye. This wasn't another one of those, was it?

"I don't suppose she told you where she was going?" Anakin asked the little droid. R2 responded that it didn't know then beeped sadly. "I know, buddy, I'm going to miss her too."

---

Shili was controlled by the empire now. The space ports were locked down, she'd had to mask the code of her ship so it wouldn't be detected. As she flew low, relying on scanners to keep her out of range, she was disheartened by the industrialization of the planet. It had once been a beautiful place, but as usual, the empire had swooped in and stripped it bare; leaving it ruined for the natives. Ahsoka guided her ship away from the villages, especially the sectors the empire occupied and landed in the early evening near the tree line on the far edge of the plains. From what she'd been able to see from the air, there was likely a curfew and she wouldn't be noticed as long as she stayed away from the populated areas.

It was weird to return to her home planet; it was only the second time she'd been here since she'd left to become a Jedi. Her people were tribal, but she walked a totally different path. It wasn't exactly rare for Togruta to be force sensitive; after all they were a deeply spiritual people connected very strongly to nature and the energy of the universe; the force. It wasn't typical for her people to wander through the galaxy, so unless a Jedi had reason, like a conflict, to come to their planet... many Togruta force wielders were unknown. There had been only a handful of them to have been discovered in the last century. Even less that could survive the solitary life of a Jedi. Her people weren't meant to be loners. They thrived in groups, and watching out for each other.

She glanced in the direction of the nearest village. Did her parents miss her? If they were still alive, would they want to see her? Would they even recognize her? Would she recognize them? To the Togrutan people, being discovered by the Jedi was an incredible honor. So much so, they would gladly give up their children for life to hold the honor that they'd given birth to a force sensitive child. It was an easy weakness to exploit and one that had almost cost her life. The other child had not been as lucky.

She often told people that she had no memories of her life before the temple, but that wasn't true. Some of them, she was sure she'd never forget. Like that day, when this horrible man had stumbled into town. He looked like a Jedi. He talked like a Jedi and he had everyone convinced he was one. Everyone except her. She was too young to know what a Jedi was, but she knew he was lying. Her family and the rest of the tribe had paraded her in front of this man, along with another child; a boy named Sanshe. The man had demanded shows of their abilities, and she had refused. The boy, a year older, loved showing off what he could do. When it was her turn, she'd bit him on the hand and run from the village. Her family had yelled after her; angry, disappointed, unforgiving. She had embarrassed them. She'd run for her life.

She had accidentally stumbled on the man's camp, in her haste to get away. She had smelled his stench all over it. She'd climbed a tree nearby to watch for his return. But she would never forget what she'd witnessed. The man had brought Sanshe back to the camp and forced him to fight a juvenile akul for sport. At the age of 5, that boy never had a chance. It was rare even for adults to beat them; force sensitive or not. She'd had to keep from crying out as she watched him ripped to shreds. The man jeering the whole time. For someone who was born and bred to be a predator, the image of his mangled body had turned even her stomach.

With the akul on the loose and the man still nearby, she'd been forced to stay up in the trees. Quiet as she could be, so neither of them noticed her. Eventually the man had killed the akul and packed up and left, leaving the boys remains.

She'd tried to return to the village after the man had left, but she had disgraced them by not going with the false Jedi and they had turned her away. She'd tried to tell them about what had happened to the boy, why she'd refused to go with the man, but they'd ignored her. From that day on, she was alone. In some ways, she still was.

She put up the hood of her robe, tucking it in so it wouldn't fly off as she burst into a run across the plains. She let the force and memory guide her steps across the familiar landscape. She reached the mountains by nightfall, and wove amongst the rocks up to her secret cave. As she studied the entry, there was no evidence it had been found or disturbed. Unsurprising really, this was a dangerous place for the Togruta to be. It was where the akul liked to hide.

She effortlessly moved the boulder that disguised the entrance to her hideout and stepped inside. She traced her fingers over the drawings she'd left as a child on the cave walls. She was starting to remember every one. Each of them had been drawn after a dream. And as she walked along, the story they showed progressed. She'd been four when she'd drawn these images. Yet everything in her life had played out exactly as they had foretold.

She stopped in front of the drawing of her great trial. Well at least, the great trial of the Togruta culture. Your first solo akul kill. She'd been thirteen when Master Shaak Ti had brought her back to Shili to participate in the hunt. Armed only with a spear and a time limit, the children of the villages were released to complete their rite of passage into adulthood; Togruta mature sooner than most species. The rules were simple; find one, kill it, bring back their teeth or don't come back.

In retrospect, it wouldn't have mattered if she'd succeeded or not. She'd already dishonored her family years before. Not even going with master Plo when he'd found her had gained her favor in their eyes again, at least not the eyes of her family. But she'd still tried. If not for them, for herself. She had to prove she was worthy. She'd isolated an akul, but just as she'd been poised and ready, she had stopped. It wasn't injured, it would have been an impressive prize, but she couldn't kill it. It had stared at her with knowing eyes. And then she'd spoken to it. She'd poured her heart out to an animal! A deadly predator that could snap her bones in two in one movement.

But it had just sat there, across from her in the turu-grass. Watching her as if it understood every word she'd said. She had told it about her parents, about the hunt, about how lonely she was, about the Jedi... everything she'd been needing to get off her chest for years. And then it had done the strangest thing. It had walked over to a rock, hit the side of its face hard against it and then dropped 7 teeth from its mouth into her hands.

Her fingers rubbed across the image of the headdress she'd fashioned from the akul's teeth. She'd never told anyone the truth about what had happened. Because she'd returned with the trophy of the hunt, she had passed the trial. It had always been strange to her how after nine years of feeling so lonely, her first real friend had supposedly been the enemy.

Two days after returning from the hunt to the temple, Master Yoda had sent her to Christophsis to meet her new master. Could master Yoda tell that that experience had changed her? Had it had any bearing on the events that followed? Was the akul a symbol for Anakin? The very first person that really saw her? The first one that really listened? The first one that really cared?

After all, Anakin may not have given her teeth in such a dramatic fashion, but he had risked so much throughout the years to keep her safe. The only one to stand by her and defend her when everyone else had turned against her. He had even brought her back to life! And then... he'd become the enemy to everyone but her. Just as the akul were the enemy to the Togruta people.

She glanced to the entry of the cave. In the moonlight sat a large, hairy akul. It's sheen of orange fur reflected the soft light making it look almost ethereal. Its eyes were sharp, ears tucked back, shoulders muscular, rear end lean. Its huge paws had long lethal claws splayed out in four directions. It's snout extended forward just below the eyes. And its mouth sat open revealing seven missing teeth.

She walked over to it and knelt in front of it. It watched her curiously, like it had all those years ago. She threw her arms around its neck. Fully aware that this whole scenario was completely unheard of by her people.

"No," she whispered in its ear. "The only thing I need this time is your presence."

---

"You've done well, child," The familiar voice permeated the air around her as she meditated in the cave.

"When master Yoda had told me to reach into the force and discover who my master was supposed to be, you're the one that told me to choose Anakin, aren't you?" Ahsoka asked aloud.

"Yes," the voice whispered

"Did you know?"

"Did I know what he'd become? What he would do? Yes."

"And you still wanted him trained? Wouldn't the galaxy have been better off if the Chosen One had never been found?" Ahsoka tried not to cry, how could she say that? She loved Anakin, she'd loved him from the first time they met. She loved him still, in spite of everything he'd done. She should not be wishing to have never known him.

"Search your feelings, child. If none of the events had occurred that were set into motion by his discovery, what state would the galaxy be in?"

"I don't know! But it would have been better than all those deaths! All that suffering!" She cried out, angry at this voice. How could it speak of annihilation so easily? She stared at her hands. There was so much blood on them. To be a survivor, to know that the choices you'd made had helped cause it... She'd lived most of her life as an outcast. She'd spent so much time with the voices in her head. She'd always believed in the goodness of the force. But the force wasn't good. It wasn't evil either. It just was. It dictated all at such horrendous costs. Masquerading as comfort and light and love. Few get to see what a cruel overseer it is. Why'd she have to be one of them?

"What has to happen to restore balance will happen. We all play our parts. You were chosen to keep the balance, just as those before you." The voice said, without any emotion or acknowledgement of her pain.

"You're master Qui-Gon, aren't you?" She asked trying to restore her own peace. "You're the one that's been guiding me for years."

"I am."

"You told your student to train the Chosen One. And he did as you asked. Why did you need me?"

"Obi wan, like the majority of the Jedi, interpreted the prophecy of the Chosen One to mean balance in the light. Or he denied the prophecy all together. He could not teach the boy in the dark. To be balance, he must know both sides."

"So I was needed to make him dark?" She didn't like what the voice was implying.

"No, he had the darkness before you entered his life. But you could walk the dark with him without being touched by it. Many Jedi fall to the promise of the dark side. It was destiny for the Daughter to give herself to you. In her act, she shielded you with light. You could then enter the dark and bring him back to the middle. All others would have failed."

"So then the emperor, Sidious, was the one that could walk in the light to lead him down the path to the dark?"

"He played his role just like the rest." The voice said. She didn't like the sound of that.

"Why me?"

"When a predator can lay down their weapon in the face of certain death, only then can they understand how everything is interconnected; how two extremes can find common ground. The Chosen One is but a conduit through which flows both good and evil. You, child, were bred to kill, but when it could have cost you your life, you chose not to. You found middle ground with the sworn enemy of your people. In your great trial, you became a soldier of balance. ”

Ahsoka stood up so fast, she startled the akul that had been sleeping next to her. It leapt up between her and the cave entrance as though to protect her from danger. But sensing none, it looked at her with confusion.

“You know he's a person, right? He is more than just a tool to be molded and manipulated and used. And so am I!” Ahsoka yelled into the empty cave, anger rising in her like she’d never known. “I’m tired of all this talk of fate and destiny and prophecies! They only cause insanity! Each living creature should get a say in their own lives! You’re not the ones that have to live with the outcome of these paths. We are! Anakin was, IS, a good man. He loved people deeply, would do anything to protect them. But because of some stupid force designed prophesy, he was seen only as a weapon, a THING to be controlled. He was USED by so many for their own gains. Each one trying to turn him their way. He played his part, he fulfilled your prophecy. And now? Now he has to live the rest of his life with the guilt of what it cost to do that! And that is a burden no one should have to carry!” She was fuming. She meant everything she said, but was it even possible to defy the force?

Next Chapter ->

5 notes · View notes