#there’s no anger in the original. just sheer sadness and shock | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years

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i saw your post about Charles and what his personality past and part in the story line so i was wondering if u could do the same for vlad? :)

Ah, well, I can at least let you know what I’ve seen so far? I haven’t delved too far into Vlad, and some of his general impressions can be confusing, so I’ll do my best to make it sensible and unbiased! Here you go lovely <33333

Fair warning, there will be mentions of a lot of JPN app content since Vlad and his boys aren’t around much in the ENG app yet.

My general sense of Vlad is basically discount vampire Sasuke Uchiha.

What I mean by this is to say–according to what I’ve read so far–his clan/family were murdered by vampire hunters in cold blood when he was just a young boy. Presumably as a result of that traumatic event, he harbors a sizable enmity towards humanity and kind of lashes out on them in weirdly specific moments of violence. Another aspect of his motivation is something that’s mentioned within Comte’s route; which is that Vlad went through the timespace door on his own one day and allegedly saw a devastated future, where nothing remains of life on earth more or less.

I guess the reason I find him to be so perplexing is that he speaks about his actions in terms of efficiency, while most of the things he does just feel like unhappy outbursts (v often a product of unresolved trauma symptoms, I’d wager.) I also say this because he appears to have no larger pattern to his fury beyond the original event of his loss. Most of the human beings he attacks aren’t much of a threat to him and hurting them really doesn’t bring him any dividends beyond revenge.

For instance, he insists his disdain for humanity and insistence on controlling them is for the sake of ensuring they do not destroy the future–the horrifying wasteland he witnessed when he traveled through the timespace door. However, I’m not really sure how his current movements really speak to that goal? I mean sure, maybe he’s relying on Faust to create an immortal human so that humans will be forced to care because it will be their future too, but he doesn’t allow Faust to draw his pureblood blood for experimenting. (One can most certainly argue this was more about a lack of trust, and perhaps for plenty reason: Faust is vindictive enough to try to turn the tables and exert control over Vlad, or act on his own whims with his findings.) But if that’s the solution he’s waiting on, turning the rivals of the men in the mansion doesn’t really bring him any closer to that vision either? I mean, what good does it do to bring back Gilles de Rais–a prominent French serial killer? How would unleashing him on the populace help humanity “realize the error of it’s short-sighted and wasteful ways” and move to a brighter future?

Can’t help it, I ask these questions as I read.

In Comte’s main story, Comte hammers home that Vlad is not somebody to be taken lightly. One day when MC goes out to buy flowers, Vlad poses as a human florist to sell them to her–which is how Comte finds out he’s in France, and that he’s made contact with MC. When prompted, Comte describes him in a very particular way; and I think people really overlook this when they talk about their relationship. He says that Vlad is frighteningly pure in terms of the way he thinks and acts. The way I understood his description (given what I’ve seen of Vlad) is that Comte really does mean it point blank: Vlad is very simple in terms of why and how he does things. The issue with this is that nuance and context are lost on Vlad as well–and that’s where the problems start to flood in. Vlad is angry at humanity for what they’ve done to him. Baseline? That’s fair, they killed his damn family. However, Vlad thinks that by extension he has the right to decimate the general public and attack people completely uninvolved in his hurt.

And that isn’t right either–it’s ignoring so many factors here. He’s ignoring how much vampires use and toy with humans as pawns, it’s ignoring the massive power imbalance between him and his victims (this really isn’t a case of self-defense most of the time, nobody but Comte/Leo is a sizable threat to him), and he’s ignoring whether or not a person even did anything to deserve his retributive violence. While murder is never okay, it is perhaps more understandable when we see Jeanne’s frenzied and violent belligerence in response to a man who murders a boy’s mother for the sake of his own amusement/convenience. Vlad literally sees almost every single one of the rivals he created begin to heal/improve and murders them in cold blood because they are no longer of any use to him. That’s uh……..that’s a little messed, not gonna lie to you chief.

While part of me understands the efficiency here–he doesn’t want to leave any traces of his involvement, he doesn’t want any loose ends–it’s also just kind of foolish and cruel ultimately. From my understanding of the narrative, all the people he turned had some visible sign that indicated their origin to Comte. So even if he claims it was for the sake of concealment, it was more likely about his personal convenience. Which…..also yikes.

[Comte clearly does not trust Vlad to be reasonable, and I think there’s plenty of good reason enumerated above, but I actually don’t sense quite so much hatred? I think he’s just given up on the idea of Vlad growing up, even if he doesn’t like giving up on people. And considering Vlad’s behavior, I think it’s overkill to say that Comte just abandons him because he doesn’t care lmao. Even when Comte expresses real anger at the end of his own route, it was more because Vlad was fine with endangering MC’s life just to get back at him. I think Comte’s unhappiness with Vlad has more to do with Vlad’s treatment of human life as meaningless and worthless. It’s fascinating but also kind of sad? Vlad’s traumatic experience results in behavior that is a direct exacerbation of Comte’s trauma, and as such--no matter their potentially fond history--they can’t stomach each other.]

In Comte’s route, Vlad also has Shakespeare abduct MC and take her to the cathedral. Later on in the castle, we see an immediate display of Vlad’s shocking powers: he has the ability to manipulate people’s desires/thoughts. I’m not exactly sure how this works, but he is able to give MC visions of the mansion and Comte coming on to her–which shocks her into realizing it’s all just a dream. It’s not reality; it’s all manufactured by Vlad.

After that...weird introductory note...Vlad gives MC the rundown on his life together with Comte, which as always is subject to a question of bias. My assumption is that he did not lie, only because he was trying to convince MC that he was “right.” Furthermore, he does not omit the most damning evidence of his erroneous judgement, which suggests a continued inability for him to see where he went wrong.

We get a series of three flashbacks. The first is them as young kids. I don’t know if Vlad had already experienced the horrors of his family being destroyed, but this particular flashback focuses on Comte. His parents, in an effort to teach him that vampires and humans have no ability to co-exist, send away all of his teachers/mentors/nannies/the servants--pretty much everyone and anyone he was closely bonded to. Think about it this way: we can see that Comte is very sociable and affectionate by nature. He was living in a house full of people, all of whom cared about him and looked after him in their own way. Now the house is entirely empty. Naturally Comte is very very upset, and Vlad appears to try to cheer him up with little success.

[When I look back on this scene I don’t think I initially registered the sheer dissonance of Vlad’s reaction, versus Comte’s catatonic misery. There was a very solemn feeling to that memory, and the correct choice in terms of extending comfort is to hold his hand believe it or not. There is a sense that he feels very alone. When young boy Vlad enters one can argue that it was the proper thing to do; he was trying to cheer up his playmate and friend. But at the same time, I think I need to double check. Because I’m beginning to wonder if I was wrong. What if Vlad was happy to see someone as alone as him, and that joy is accordingly dissonant for that reason? He can’t see what Comte needs or how he’s hurting because he’s so glad he isn’t alone anymore in a way.]

The second flashback is the war nurse scene that I have spoken at length about. The important thing to focus on here is Vlad’s surprise that Comte would opt out of turning her out of respect for her wishes. The way Vlad frames the situation is starkly different from Comte’s. Comte sees himself as an outsider, somebody who invaded her life as a result of the timespace door and therefore has no right to suddenly change the course of her fate. He had no idea if she even wanted to live (considering the horrors she’d have to cope with and remember) or leave that time period at all, for that matter (considering the only thing keeping her going was helping the wounded/victims). Comte really was listening to everything she had to say, and he was taking her concerns and motivations seriously.

Vlad simply says: if you want her, take her. It’s as simple as that for him. And in one way that’s not entirely wrong--assuming Comte would have every intention of looking after her and actually cares a lot about her. But what’s being ignored here is her agency and the fact that they really don’t know each other that well? Something like that could begin and be rocky, if it doesn’t end in complete disaster. Worse, I get the feeling Vlad is perfectly fine with the notion of turning her and if things don’t work out, just kill her or get rid of her. Again, the simplistic thinking comes into play here: it ultimately comes down to Vlad being self-centered. He’s thinking only in terms of satisfying his needs, he doesn’t seem to have any concept of a larger pair or group feeling. There’s an inability to bend/be flexible for the sake of maintaining a greater harmonious feeling.

[For the record, I don’t think this makes him irredeemable? Only that it makes it very hard to live with him or love him, probably. There’s an inability to live at a joint pace? It’s always answering to what he wants without room for anything else most of the time, which to me is not living and it’s not love ;;;;]

Following their escape back to their own time, Vlad explains how he wants to use the door to turn geniuses and control humanity. He eventually wants to create a surveillance state, which would mean everyone is forced to move with his explicit approval, more or less. (He almost reminds me of Louis XIV, can’t tell if that’s what they were going for.) I have my doubts that his abilities could extend that far, but human history shows us that we are plenty susceptible to fascist and totalitarian rhetoric. In a shocking display of anger, Comte draws the line at controlling humanity and forcing them into a regime in which, and this is Vlad’s description not mine, “we (purebloods) would be like kings.” There’s definitely a concept of evolutionary superiority at play here, which echoes what I mentioned earlier; vampires seem to have this awareness that they’re apex predators in a sense, and enjoy the power that comes with that. Unfortunately, that probably makes for a fairly toxic/uncomfortable larger species culture, which is exactly what Comte and Leo hate lmao.

Vlad does not seem to find any issue with this sort of outlook, and asks MC to decide which of them--Vlad or Comte--is right. Who is more realistic, who best understands the future? As expected the MC replies that it's Comte, and Vlad goes from beseeching to big mad at record speed. He's p much that gif of the teddy bear that smacks its head down on the tables and then has the angry eyebrows.

This is where Comte intervenes, firing a warning shot that grazes Vlad's cheek and demanding he let MC go. In response, Vlad shoves MC into the turbulent timespace door--p much guaranteeing MC's death. (Essentially timespace is a void of sorts, a human being could never survive in that environment for long. Vlad fully knew this, and yeeted her anyway.)

So uh, yeah. Disagreement? Death. Moving on? Death. Nuanced approach to reality? Death. Beginning to think he doesn't really have a lot of patience or open-mindedness or any other kind of problem-solving approach.

He raises flowers and gardens like a fiend, and he openly plucks any single flower with a blemished leaf. Even if a single petal is slightly damaged, it will be removed and destroyed. So one could argue his extremism reflects a kind of perfectionism as well. No room for errors or troublesome dissent. No ugliness of any kind. I mean in all of his interactions with Faust and Charles this is the overt undertone. Don't ask more of me than I'm willing to give. Behave like good children, mommy's busy. Is that insubordination? boss music begins

One thing I actually don't understand very well is his decision making in Dazai's route. Dazai finds out about what Vlad's doing in a nanosecond when he senses MC is in danger, and yet Vlad makes absolutely no move to eliminate Dazai? He just watches from the shadows. Even when Dazai grills Charles about his loyalty to Vlad, no retribution.

My best guess for this specific situation is that Vlad does derive some level of satisfaction thwarting the future of human beings/former humans. Dazai--being somebody with no great desire to live, no rivals to speak of as far as we can tell, and no larger aspirations--is a life that is easily extinguished. There's no satisfaction in it. When Vlad's clan was murdered and he saw the future decimated, it could be that he felt humans had invaded and eradicated every potentiality that was important to him. Where he might have lived happily with his family, that future was ripped from his grasp. Where he might enjoy his flowers and the creation of an immortal for the rest of conceivable time, that too was ripped from his grasp with a desolate future.

So much about who Vlad is is about control, so it's very possible his lashing out is an extension of that. Dazai does not awaken any of the disdain he feels, and he does not succeed in overthrowing Vlad's control over Charles, so Vlad simply lurks in silence.

And last but not least, I've seen the preview to Vlad's newest birthday event story. The contents are incredibly revealing, in that MC wishing him a happy birthday and offering him a gift has him saying that it was "the best birthday ever." Granted idk if that’s sweet or just...beyond sad, but here we are. It’s only compounding my curiosity about the wound on his chest--I really do wonder if he was attacked and locked away by vampire hunters or hostile human beings or something. I say that only because that line speaks to a lot of isolation, and given how little he seems to care about turning people/subjecting them to his whims it feels odd. Why the isolation or lack of people who care about him? Is it a perceived lack where his actions alienated all the people who wanted to be close to him, or is it a more involuntary lack?

When she says let’s celebrate again next year, he seems a pleasantly shocked by the notion, and remarks “Ah yes, it’s a promise c:”. The preview was also mega horny: “You make me feel so loved, I don’t think I can be gentle with you tonight. If you enjoy it so much, then I won’t stop. I want to see you completely lost for me. I’ll teach your body what it means to be loved by a pureblood.” Aaaaaand pretty sure the CG was alluding to him licking the good stuff from her basement, though not entirely sure given it was only the preview.

The brief POV they give us is also very revealing:

“You always keep your promises, and I think I underestimate all the time how much you saved me. You are good, only you are good in this world.”

“Will we continue to make promises to each other in the future? Well in that case--you will always, always be mine, my vampire.”

Tbh he’s...v sweet? In his own way? Honestly he feels like a crabapple that is just so sick of the world and wants softe wife to take comfort in. While granted that’s not really my thing, I know a fanbase appeal exists for these types--so if that’s your thing, have at it!

So now that we have reached the end of my ridiculously long analysis (when am I ever brief, I’m so sorry. If you made it all the way here you deserve a cookie at the very least, if not the right to chase me with a bat) perhaps it’s more clear why I said discount vampire Sasuke Uchiha? “My clan is gone, every other second I’m going to be in retraumatization insanity, when I’m not I’ll be seeking power/hobbies, planning the demise of people who wanted the best for me, building a team to my advantage and unquestioned control, and eventually settling for a lifelong love who sees the best in me despite my more difficult moments and perceived hollowing loneliness. Not the most ideal comparison, but I will say if Vlad was not already named the historical figure, would have pointed and yelled Uchiha.

That’s all from me folks, hopefully this was a fun way to get introduced to him? And again, hope I didn’t alienate--I fully respect what people do and don’t enjoy o7

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp meta #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp faust #ikevamp charles #ikevamp dazai #i hope this was helpful!#i had too much fun writing it jkahlgkjhgdf i love meta #but thank you for submitting <33333 #oh discount vampire sasuke uchiha we really in it now #rambles #not incorrect quotes

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sooibian · 4 years

Text

Wherever You Are

Pairing: Kai x You as Lys ft. Baekhyun, Minseok, Yixing

Description: When you least expect it, love, quite literally, sweeps you off your feet

Themes: Romani AU, magical realism, romance, angst, drama ™ (i grew up on a healthy dose of Bollywood and it! shows!), secret relationship, heavily influenced by Mmmh Kai

Warnings: Blood, weapons, violence

Word Count: +9.5k (i’m sorry i haven’t had the time to proof-read this at all)

Tagging: @changshapatrol @rosetvler @bbyunz @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt @royal-aeris @bbhmystar @his-mochi-cheeks @littleflowercrown13

Part of the Steampunk Romani AU collab with @leewalberg @vampwrrr @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme

Pre-reading notes:

1. This is a spin-off for Lys from Star-Crossed but it can be read as a standalone oneshot. I’ve tried my best to translate the events of that fic into Lys’ POV but feel free to shoot me a message if something still confuses you.

2. Lys is a mind-reader, Baekhyun has the ability to influence physical objects with his mind, Yixing is a dragon and he’s the leader of the clan (Bulibasha), and Kai - as we all know - can teleport!!

3. Glossary: bulibasha - clan leader, dado - father, dya - mother, gadjo - someone of non-romani descent / origin, dragă - darling, iubirea mea - my love, lautari - a group of romani musicians, zakono - a key institution for enforcing the Romani Code.

“Dado, can I go along with Minseok?”

“Where to, dragă?”

“To the horse fair....the one in the village?”

“That’s no place for a pretty princess such as yourself -”

“But..but.. dado!”

“The camp has everything you’ll ever need, dragă.”

You woke up to the same old chirping of crickets, the same old crimson, black, and gold panels draping your tent, the same old wine stained goblet on your nightstand, the same old aroma of steamed xaimoko and hearty cornbread, and... the same old stinging in your heart.

Lips stretched into a habitual wide grin, you greeted the lass who brought you dinner with a drawn out “Morning”.

“It’s seven in the evening, Lys. You know how your father feels about you sleeping during sunset!” Vera exclaimed and gathered her skirts to sit on the edge of your bed, her gentle fingers combing through to untangle knots in her mistress’ long, dark hair.

Having mastered the art of repressing the emotions that threatened to colour your expression at the mere mention of your father, feigning excitement, you took her hand in yours and coyly quizzed her on the topic she was dying to discuss, “Tell me more about the whitesmith boy, Vera? Did he prove to be,” you cleared your throat and said in a hushed whisper, “worth his mettle?” and drew the question out with a roaring laughter.

“Hush, Lys!” Said Vera bashfully, biting on her lower lip to suppress the smile that was beginning to form on her mellow, innocent face. The whitesmith boy, better known as Kris, was the clan’s most eligible bachelor until yesterday.

Young girls, in pairs or trios, would hide behind the shrubbery by the river to catch a glimpse of him shirtless, bring him bent out of shape wares to fix and polish - even the ones whose weights their delicate hands couldn’t bear - and watch him at his job for hours at an end as sweat would drip down his neck, making his light, cotton shirt cling onto his well defined back.

As any young man his age would, Kris surely enjoyed the attention but he didn’t thrive on it. His heart belonged solely to his beloved. He settled for the most simple woman, some would say for the want of a better word, but you were convinced that none of them had experienced the sweetness that was love.

You had - but only vicariously. Love, trust, anticipation, joy - all vicariously. The only emotions you truly understood, first-hand, were longing, anger, and sadness.

“Lys?” A finger poking into your side broke you out of your reverie.

“Hmm?”

“I said, yes.”

“What for?” You asked, an innocent eyebrow raised in question.

She only giggled in response and darted out of your tent. Grinning wide, you turned to your meal and just then the aggressive tramp of horses’ hooves and sharp, piercing cries of pain and fear from men, women, and children reached your ears. Before you could make sense of the situation, your shell-shocked eyes followed Vera’s body as it fell inside your tent with a dull thud, an arrow pierced through her chest.

Your dinner tray toppled over as you ran to her aid and struggled with the bitter truth that you could do nothing to breathe life into the one person out of the very few that truly cared for you. With your hand on her teared stained cheek, you listened to her conscience ferociously chant, dya...dya...take care of dya!

“I will, Vera. I promise to take care of your mother.”

Only when she was reassured did Vera allow life to drain out of her eyes while tears started to line yours and grief clawed at your throat. You began to drag her limp body towards the bed and it wasn’t long before a familiar face barged into your tent. Throwing his crossbow to the side, your brother helped you hoist Vera’s body up onto your bed.

“What’s going on -”

“We’ve been attacked by a group of dacoits. Stay inside. Whatever happens, do not leave your tent! You understand me?” Minseok commanded, his dark eyes piercing yours while blood trickled down the side of his face.

“You’re hurt -”

He shook his head and repeated, panic betraying his voice, “Just... stay safe, Lys. Will you?”

Breaking down into sobs you nodded frantically as the ugly realisation of loss washed over you. Minseok pulled you into a tight embrace, praying fervently, “It could’ve been you. It could’ve been you instead of - of Vera! Thank God! Thank God, it wasn’t you!”

His every word felt like a punch in the gut.

He then marched out with his crossbow in hand, vengeance in his eyes and your heart clenched with fear for your brother’s life. Hiding behind the entrance panels, you watched the scene outside.

The settlement was barren except for the dacoits and a handful of men from the clan out on the field; the rest had scurried into the safe confines of their caravans and tents. Men on horseback, dressed in black robes, had their faces covered in black scarves. They spoke a different tongue but you understood that they sought revenge. A life for a life, they repeated over and over in broken Romani. They menacingly circled Baekhyun with arrows and daggers pointed to his heart. Baekhyun’s stance was alert with his jamdhar in his hand as a majestic black and gold dragon hovered over them, a tattered body dangling from his spine chilling, bloody mouth.

It happened within a matter of seconds - the dacoits lay slain - some with arrows pierced through their chests, some eviscerated into smithereens and the rest crumbled to black dust - the doing of Minseok, Baekhyun, and Yixing respectively.

With one flap of his massive wings, Yixing descended, gracefully landing on his human feet as a man-servant trotted to his aid with a black robe to cover his modesty yet, very little was left to imagination.

“They really thought -”

Before Yixing could complete his sentence, an unconscious Baekhyun collapsed - right in the centre of the bloody chaos. That jamdhar is going to be his undoing, you said to yourself. A girl with dark unruly hair rushed to his side - your fiancé’s side - the sight turning your limbs to ice.

Your heart sank to your stomach but the edges of your mouth curled up in a smile as you met her eyes from a distance with sheer contempt in your own.

A man you didn't recognise, supported by two others on either side, was being ushered into Yixing's private chamber.

You felt a hand against the small of your back. Minseok whispered into your ear, "Dado wants to see you."

***

In the centre of the room slouched a man on a wooden chair, his hands roped together at the back, face bruised and bloodied - evidently the doing of your own brother.

“What’s all this?” You asked the three men surrounding him.

“The bandits left their dog behind,” spat Yixing.

“So? What am I supposed to do?” You directed the question to your father.

“We need to know who he is, where he’s from, and...why we were attacked.” Replied your father, eyes forcefully trained on the unconscious man on the chair.

“You should’ve probably left him with some life in his body to answer your questions.” You said to Minseok indignantly.

“Lys!” Your father was prepared to reprimand you at your insolence in front of Bulibasha.

“Dado - ”

“Lys, just hold his hand and tell us what he’s thinking.” Minseok tried to lighten the tense atmosphere with his calm voice.

“I have better things to do than hold a gadjo’s hand and listen to the filth of his mind. I’ll leave you big and strong men to it.” You sauntered over to your father, the corner of your mouth raised in a smirk. Dusting the lint off of his magnificent black and red woollen cloak that was embroidered along the edges with the finest gold thread, you sang, “I’m nothing more than just a pretty princess, anway.”

“Lys, please!” Cried Minseok.

“What would you have me do, Minseok? Stay here with you all while my fiancé is canoodling with the Bladerunner by the pond?” You retorted.

Yixing shot you a puzzled glance while Minseok and your father averted their eyes.

"It’s known to be their usual hideout.” You half-shrugged at Yixing, your casual tone not doing much to ease the frown lines on his handsome face.

While you were busy squabbling with your family, the man on the chair lifted his head up, rope evidently cut loose with a push dagger, and immediately all four pairs of eyes turned to him. Underneath the caked blood and grime on his face, he flaunted golden skin, luscious lips, and sharp, distinct features. His eyes met yours and crinkled into crescents as his lips curved into a disrespectful smirk.

He gave you a casual two-finger salute goodbye and….vanished.

Breaking into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at the three men caught unawares, you turned on your heels and merrily skipped out of Yixing’s private chamber.

The next morning found you by the river, still trying to wrap your head around the events of yesterday. ‘Thank God it wasn’t you!’ Your brother’s gentle voice rang ominously in your ears. ‘But what if it was?’ you reasoned with yourself, ‘Would it have meant being finally free or trapped in a permanent state of oblivion?’ In tune with your mind, your feet wandered, taking you deeper into the viridian forest.

You stumbled upon something stock-still and landed on your back causing that something to stir and wince in pain as it slowly regained consciousness. You crawled as far away from it as you could only to recognize him by the pleated black cummerband around his waist. The gadjo struggled to hold himself up and flattened to the ground again.

His agony brought you some solace as Vera’s ashen face flashed before your eyes. Laughing, you exclaimed, "So this is how far you managed to get! A stone's throw from Bulibasha's tent."

The man winced again but a smile began to form on his lips. "Wa-water," he breathed but you leisurely rested your back against the trunk of a nearby tree and denied his request with a little shake of your head, “A life for a life, gadjo. Repay your debt. Your people killed my friend.”

“Not- not my doing,” he said throatily and began dragging himself towards the river. He was sculpted like the dancers of a lăutari - long and lean, elegantly broader along the shoulders and chest and enviably slim around the waist.

You offered him no help. Instead, waited with a bated breath for his soul to escape him. But his snail’s pace had started to exasperate you. So you begrudgingly volunteered to bring him water as his dying wish.

“Here you go, gadjo. Seeing the way my brother beat you up, a sip or two of water won’t be of much help, anyway.” You sneered, holding the edge of the cupped leaf to his bruised lips.

As he drank, colour slowly returned to his ghost-white, bloodied face. “Kai,” he said in a voice that was husky and deep.

“What?”

“It’s my name. You’d do well to remember it.” His face lit up with a smile and his eyes found your thick golden anklet bejeweled with iridescent beads. He flicked the bead trinkets with his finger and squeezed his eyes shut as if in admiration of a great symphony.

Before you could even make sense of the situation...of him...he vanished again.

Kai, you mouthed, curled up in bed at midnight.

“Kai,” you said the gadjo’s name out loud, the tips of your fingers tracing the movement of your lips and despite yourself, blood began to warm your face. It had been a week since you met him in the forest but the man had capsized your mind. You inwardly admonished yourself for not killing him when you had the chance - it was the least you could’ve done for Vera - but you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him.

You saw truth in his innocent yet compelling eyes.

A whirlpool of emotions rose in your chest as you tossed and turned in bed causing a bead of your anklet to tangle with a loose silk thread from your quilt. Groaning, you sat up to undo it, and heard a sudden, loud crack.

Kai had unexpectedly appeared, standing at the foot of your bed. Arms crossed over his chest and head tilted to the side, he smiled down at you.

Returning his smile, you said, “If I scream, there’ll be at least ten men here, in no time, with sharp objects pointed at your throat.”

Gaze intertwined with yours, Kai knelt before you as his deft fingers found the troublesome bead. Smirking, he slowly pushed the quilt out of the way, and you instinctively pulled your skirts down below your knees. His mouth found the loose thread and he bit on it to free you from the restraint as his warm breath fanned your ankle and his soft lips brushed ever so slightly against your skin. As delicate as the touch was, it felt like being imprinted with a blazing hot cast-iron.

“If you truly wanted me dead, you wouldn’t have saved my life. And I’m here to thank you for that,” he smiled, and took the bold step of sitting next to you, on your bed. He then clicked his tongue, fingers ghosting along the curve of your ankle, and piped cockily, “Besides, you know I’d vanish before your sluggish men even manage to get here.”

“You think you’re very brave, gadjo?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just a fool for walking into the lioness’ den.”

His expression suddenly turned solemn. Studying your face intently, he whispered, “I’m sorry about your friend. I didn’t -”

“You didn’t what?” Your heart thumped wildly in your chest in a rather desperate anticipation of his innocence. So you immediately placed your clammy hand upon his trembling, cold one.

His voice grew thick with anguish as he explained, “I didn’t know those men were going to storm your clan. I’d only met them that morning. They said they were traveling south and I - I really had nowhere to go so I joined them without giving it much thought. I was desperate for company.”

His words were very much in line with his thoughts and memories. Images of the dacoits just as you’d seen them that evening, their boisterous banter, their journey towards the settlement, the food and wine and spoils they shared along the way, all flashed before your eyes.

You knew a liar when you saw one - their features were drawn out a bit differently, you’d believed. Baekhyun was a liar. He’d lied when you had asked him if he loved you. But Kai on the other hand…

“At the time you didn’t realize that they were plunderers?” You asked delicately.

“All I understood was that they weren’t men of strong character. But I didn’t care for their morality. I knew I could protect myself if worse came to worst.”

“Why didn’t you simply run...vanish when they besieged my clan?” As hard as you tried, you failed to keep the edge off of your voice.

The pitch of Kai’s voice rose as he continued to explain, “I grew numb...my hands and legs and...mind...I’ve seen war and suffering and I didn’t expect to cross paths with tragedy again so soon. So I - nobody noticed this at the time because of the chaos - but I fought on your side. I tried to save as many as I could.”

You contemplated on his words for a moment without realizing that his fingers were now laced with yours.

“- when my brother found you, you just -”

“I thought I - ,” his voice dropped and lower lip quivered slightly, “ - deserved the punishment.”

Fighting back your tears, you asked, “Why didn’t you explain this to them?”

“Did you see the look on your brother’s face? And the dragon’s? He was breathing fire even in his human form. They were ready to bring me to justice for the crimes I didn’t commit.”

You gave Kai a quick once-over. His face still bore bruises from the beating but his clothes were impeccable. Rich, even. He was dressed in a blue cashmere smock, red velvet pants, and his fingernails were coated in a deep teal. He wore a beaded bracelet on his right wrist that sparkled in the dim lighting of your tent - as did the platinum ring laced with exquisite tiny diamonds on his right hand index finger.

Had the dacoits looted him, they would’ve comfortably lived on the gains from the ring alone for a good part of the year. What was the need for them to tread such a great distance to loot your clan, you wondered.

Yet again, you grew wary of the man before you.

“Why are you telling me all this?” You asked.

“Because I don’t want you to resent me for the death of your friend.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you asked defensively, “Why do you care what I think, gadjo?”

“Kai,” he corrected you and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, he disappeared again.

The scattered morning light filtered through the thicket and descended in brilliant pearls in the unshackled stream of water amidst the medley of the trinkets on your anklet, the ballads of songbirds, and gushing water hitting rubbled mass as you tiptoed deeper into the forest.

A firm grasp balanced you by your arm as you hopped over rocks to cross the stream.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re tailing me, gadjo.” You teased him.

“Here,” he thrust some peeled almonds in your hand as soon as you got to the other side. Smiling, he said, “eat up. These extraordinary tiny things will help with your poor memory.”

He walked ahead of you, guiding, as you both slipped further into the capricious forest.

“You leave only to come crawling back so soon, Kai?” Although you uttered his name almost derisively, you felt heat rising up your cheeks as it fell from your lips.

“You see? The almonds help.” He stated matter-of-factly.

You merely scoffed in response.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” He asked, retaining a casual tone.

Letting out a deep sigh, you bombarded him with your well thought out mental list of questions in response. The questions that had plagued your mind since your very first encounter with him.

“Where are you from, gadjo? Don’t you have a home? A... girl waiting for you?” You deliberately held on to his arm on the pretext of steadying yourself ...and his mind drew a blank.

I can’t remember anything before you.

You were about to say something more but then stopped short, retreating until your back hit the trunk of a tree. He followed and halted only at a hair breadth’s distance from you, towering over, as sunlight danced on his skin.

He breathed, “You tell me. Do I?”

“Hmm?” Brows quirked, you stared right back into his eyes as his head continued to lower slowly and you, despite yourself, started going up on the tip of your toes, his hand around your waist holding you steady.

“Do I have a girl,” he whispered, his index finger lifting your chin up, his warm breath tickling your face and his lips ghosting over yours, “waiting for me?”

Your eyelids drooped almost instinctively as the back of his fingers gently caressed the side of your face.

“Kai -”

He chuckled, swiftly scooping you up in his arms. You felt your whole body squint and your ears popped rather painfully. It wasn’t long before Kai’s feet found firm ground in a meadow full of beautiful plume thistles while you stayed burying your face in the crook of his neck, eyes firmly squeezed shut.

He gently put you down but your legs gave out. Feeling squeamish, you berated him, “Warn me the next time, yes?”

He pulled you in a tight embrace, panic betraying his voice, he asked, “Are- are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize!”

“How do you survive this at all? It’s- it feels terrible! I feel horribly queasy and my spine is trying to claw its way out of my back!” You argued aimlessly.

“One gets used to it.” He said softly as you lay on your back and he lied down next to you.

“Where are we?”

“We’re very close to Cluj-Napoca. Prince Jongin’s would-have-been kingdom.” His vague and casual tone was starting to vex you a little.

“Prince Jongin?” You enquired rather haughtily.

He answered, “Yours truly,” and bent his neck down in a bow.

“You - you’re a prince?”

He turned to face you and you excitedly followed suit. Tracing your jawline with his finger he whispered, “Not anymore. I mean - forget it, it’s a long story.” He sighed and turned his face to the clear blue skies again.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you urged him to continue, “I have all the time in the world.”

He took a moment to contemplate on your words and then his own before indulging you with a wistful smile on his face, “I turned out to be someone..something nobody expected out of me. More capable than the rightful heir, more popular with the people, more popular within the court, and more popular with the King himself.”

“Hmm...I’ll need a little more than that.”

Kai chuckled, his eyes crinkling into half moons again. “Three months ago, Cluj-Napoca was attacked by the Kingdom of Bucharest. My father - the King - was recovering from an affliction of the nerves at the time. Although I am not much of a fighter myself...well, I wasn’t trained to be one but what I lack in strength, I make up for in agility.. I led the army into battle and we managed to protect our territorial integrity and independence.”

Kai had been continuously fidgeting with the lace on his black tunic while narrating the story of his bravado, leaving you utterly astonished at the duplexity of his personality.

“So what went wrong?” You asked, studying him closely.

“The thing is I am not the King’s legitimate son,” he laughed and continued the story in a slightly higher pitch as if imitating someone, “I was born out of love, says my mother. I’m the son of a concubine.”

“But, if after everything, the King was in your favour then why did you leave?”

“He was toying with the idea of making my half-brother renounce his title. So before matters could get any worse for her son, the Queen asked me to ‘disappear into the night’ as compensation for not driving me to the streets when I was a mere boy.”

Aghast, you enquired, “So you just left?”

He simply shrugged and replied, “I am not built for a life of frivolity and merely keeping up appearances.”

“But what of your mother?”

“She’s not built for a life otherwise than of frivolity and keeping up appearances. Besides, she’s been offered an elevated position within the court by the Queen after my disappearance and she intends on keeping it. And as for my father...well, he thinks I’m a traitor who abandoned his own people. That’s why on the day that your clan was raided...I couldn’t think straight. The war with Bucharest has clearly taken a heavy toll on me...suffering of others is far beyond the level of my tolerance.”

“But what about your subjects? Tell me, how are you so casual about this?”

“You’re the daughter of the richest man in the clan. Why do you want to leave?”

“It’s not the same. Also, how do you know what I want? And- and don’t answer a question with a question. It’s annoying.”

He huddled closer to you and bragged, “It’s all in your eyes.”

“Enough, gadjo, this is not about me.” Your face flamed and your stomach was in knots in anticipation of his answer.

He let out a heavy sigh and replied, “Life is an adventure that is best lived boldly. I can go wherever I want, whenever I like. Why should someone like me bear the stifling burden of a crown when I can be...free.”

True to his character, Kai yet again appeared out of nowhere, took the heavy jute tote out of your hand and asked, “Don’t you have a handmaiden for these things?”

He was dressed entirely in black - dress shirt tucked into fitted trousers - and his face was covered with a sequined veil mask, leaving only his alluring eyes exposed. To say that you were not used to his abrupt appearances would be a gross understatement.

“I’m picking up some specific things for Vera’s mother...also, we’re in the middle of a bazaar, gadjo! You’re growing bolder by the day.”

“Lys, did you forget to take your almonds this morning?”

You scorned, “Do you have a death wish? If my brother sees you here... or the dragon... or..”

“Your precious fiancé?” He teased. “The one who’s..what was it again? Yes, the one who’s busy canoodling with the Bladerunner by the pond?”

Suppressing a grin, you gave him the side-eye and asked, “So you’re different, then? Better than Baekhyun?”

“Vastly! Tremendously! Immensely! Extremely!”

Shaking your head, you shot him an offhanded remark, “I don’t believe you.”

He immediately grabbed you by your wrist and dragged you inside what seemed like a dingy storage room for grains and pulses. Setting the bag down on the floor, he looked you in the eyes and roughly placed your hand on his chest.

”Don’t you think I’m different? Don’t you believe that I’m better? Don’t you understand I can make you happy? Truly happy?” He asked, his heart pulsing against your fingertips.

The overwhelming words you want to say...talk to me comfortably...I’ll listen to you...loosen the boundaries...I’m like you, too.

Eyes glistening, he pleaded, “Fly away with me.”

“No.” You stated plainly while your head and heart hammered wildly at the words he so bravely uttered and the ones he didn’t.

Brows knit together, his face scrunched in comprehension of your answer. “Why not?”

“It makes me squeamish.” You shrugged.

“Stop being funny.”

“You’re being funny. Whatever happened to you wanting to be free?”

“I don’t understand.”

Arms defensively crossed over your chest, you looked away from him and muttered, “You know what I mean -”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I didn’t mean I wanted to be free from you!” Kai’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he continued to argue, “Please don’t tell me you’re in love with the idiot you’re engaged to.”

“Of course not! It was just an arrangement to keep his loyalties with the family.”

“Then what is it?” He asked in his softest voice.

“I can hear the words you don't say, gadjo.” You bellowed, nearly throwing him back.

He shushed you before asking in a whisper, “So?”

“Isn’t it terrifying?” You struggled to keep your voice low at his very tempting yet terrifying proposition.

“On the contrary, in fact. I’ve never been good at putting my feelings into words. I say the things I don’t mean and freeze when I’m expected to say something. I’m easily misunderstood, Lys.”

“But everyone has secrets that they’d like to keep...secret. And from where I stand, you’re a man of too many secrets, gadjo.”

“And you’re the woman capable of unveiling them all. Look, I have nothing to hide and I don’t even want to keep anything from you. The rest,” he gulped hard before continuing, “is up to you. Think about it, would you rather be trapped in a loveless marriage? You’re the bravest woman I know, Lys. Don’t try to run away from truth.”

Ever since you’d met Kai, he was all you could think of. With him you felt safe and happy - the two emotions that had eluded you for the longest time. You wouldn’t dare to admit this to yourself but as frightening as it was, you also felt loved. All these years caught in an airless vortex, you felt like you could finally breathe - finally someone wanted you for who you were and not what you pretended to be - but something was still holding you back.

***

Kai’s words kept you up all night.

Eloping with him was a solution to all of your problems but it meant bringing shame to your family. You knew for a fact that you’d never be happy at the cost of their happiness. Sleep and answers eluding you, you scraped your hair up in a bun and threw a shawl over your shoulders to go see your father.

The fragrance of sandalwood mixed with liquor pervaded the air as you knelt beside his sleeping form. Age had started to prominently line his skin yet he looked a lot youthful without a scowl painted across his features. You planted a soft kiss on his forehead and the back of his hand, perennially struggling with your feelings towards him. He was your father, after all, and you couldn’t say that he never loved you. You only wished that he tried to understand you better.

“Dado,” you whispered against his hand, “I love you.” and broke down, sobbing quietly.

Suddenly, his disturbing thoughts came unravelled to you, filling you with unbridled rage and fear.

Fear for Kai’s life.

“You ice-veined monster...” You whispered against his hand before storming out of the tent.

“We have to stop seeing each other, gadjo.” Avoiding Kai’s eyes, you broke it to him as coolly as you could, caging a maelstrom of emotions within you.

“Would you stop calling me that? It’s cold and impersonal.” He took your hand in his as you both continued to trod lightly into the forest.

“And you’d like me to be warm...and personal..with a gadjo.. Because?”

Hurt flashed in his eyes at your remark but at this point you wanted nothing more than to save his life. When you grew to be so protective of Kai, you couldn’t tell but you knew you would do anything to save him from your vicious father. And to be able to do that, you needed him gone for good.

“Because I’m not just anyone. I am...” Breathing heavily, he pinned you to a tree.

Yours, roared his conscience. Unambiguously.

A welcome warmth seeped into your veins but you maintained a stoic demeanour. If he could hear your thoughts he’d take you away...far, far away from this stockade you called home. Tears you’d been trying so hard to hold back, spilled from your eyes as he lowered his mouth to meet yours in a deep kiss.

“We can’t be together, Kai.” Breaking the kiss, you pushed him away and sank to the ground, weeping.

Despite your protests, he carried you in his arms. Smiling, he nodded to gain your attention and trust before yelling, “Three…,” You engaged your core at “Two” and at “One” you felt a familiar uncomfortable knot in the pit of your stomach.

“It’s dark here.” You remarked, while still in the protective comfort of his arms.

“It’s night time in this part of the world, dragă.” He explained putting you down on your feet.

“Oh..you just called me -”

“I’ve been learning your tongue, iubirea mea.”

You were grateful for the darkness as it concealed just how smitten you were. Swiftly changing the subject, you asked, “Where are we?”

“Somewhere far, far away,” said Kai and you heard the smile in his voice, “at the edge of a crater of a volcano. But not to worry, it’s an inactive one.”

“How boring!” You teased, as he carefully sat you down.

A blanket of stars glimmered above as you and Kai cuddled closer to each other, enveloped in a cool breeze.

“Lys,” Kai’s eyes shone brighter than the stars as he turned to face you, “whatever it is, you can tell me. We’ll work it out. My father once said that there is no problem so complex, nor crisis so grave that cannot be satisfactorily resolved within twenty minutes. And twenty minutes is all we have. Right?”

“I have to be back in time for -”

“For lunch, yes.”

“Let me tell you a story,” you said, and Kai lay down, resting his head in your lap.

“Go on,” he urged you, the tip of his index finger meeting your nose in a little pat.

With your hand on his forehead, you narrated, “There was once a couple who married for love, much against the wishes of the Elders of their village. Because of this, the newlyweds were driven out. They wandered for weeks without food and water, travelling far and wide, seeking shelter...and acceptance. One day they found,” you swallowed hard and Kai’s expression turned solemn. He gently caressed your face with his fingers, calming you down to help you continue, “they found us. Our clan, I mean and my father was Clan Leader at the time. The woman had grown fragile and sick and was in an urgent need of care but my father denied them shelter. ‘They’ve been expelled for a good reason,’ he maintained. He lacked the basic human decency to even offer them some food for sustenance. They camped outside the settlement, pleading with anyone and everyone who crossed paths with them...until...until the woman could take it no longer. She died in her sleep and the man vowed to annihilate all those who were responsible for her death - our clan included. The leader of the dacoits who brought you to the clan that day is the man in the story, Kai.”

Brows furrowed, Kai opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

“My father - he - he recognized the man the day they stormed our settlement. And after everything, when he found you, it was like he’d struck gold. He was all set to incriminate you because our clan won’t rest until someone’s been punished. But truly - it’s all his fault. Had he not denied them refuge, the man wouldn’t have harboured resentment against us. Now he knows about us. He knows that you come to see me...he’s been keeping a close eye on us to be able to capture you at the right time. It won’t be long before he succeeds, Kai. So you must- I mean, we can’t -,” you huffed, “after all, I’m engaged to be married. Minseok and Yixing are going to pay Baekhyun a visit tomorrow to fix a date for the wedding.”

Biting on his lower lip, Kai contemplated on your words for a while before speaking again. “Seventeen minutes. I have a plan. Do you trust me?” He looked at you with mischief twinking in his deep, dark eyes and a smile teasing the edges of his lips. You replied with a hesitant nod.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” You said.

“Anything,” Kai said with a smile. He closed his eyes and placing your hand on his chest.

“You can be anywhere, everywhere and with anyone, yet-”

“Yet?”

“You know what I mean,” your voice trailed off.

“I can be anywhere and everywhere,” said Kai, cupping your face in his hands, “but I want to be by your side. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Don’t you see why it makes me upset when you say that we can’t see each other anymore? Don’t you see the irony? You can’t tell me that I can ‘port anywhere, except where I actually want to be. I love you, Lys.”

Looking straight into his eyes you said softly, “Love is a strong word.”

Brows quirked, he enquired, “Does it scare you?”

Your eyes glistened with tears as you responded, “As selfish as it may sound, I don’t want to bring dishonour to my family.”

“You won’t. I promise.”

“But what if your plan fails?”

“It won’t. And if at all it does, I’ll make sure you’re safe and sound. As for me, it’d be an honour to die for love.”

He loosened your fist open and placed a small china jar in your palm. You opened to find almonds in it. He grinned wide, and said, “Fresh ones.. in case you’d run out.”

If you loved Baekhyun you would’ve, without a doubt, stabbed the woman with the same knife that she sat polishing.

For the longest time you’d tried to hate her for being the object of your fiancé’s affections, admire her for her bravery, admonish her for her recklessness for if anyone were to ever find out… but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything for or against her.

Pivoting your attention to Kai’s best laid plan, chin up and voice firm, you said to her, “Show me your best blade.”

“What do you need it for?” She asked nonchalantly, entirely focused on the task at hand. Sure you’d grown softer since you’d met Kai but for her to not acknowledge a former Clan Leader’s presence fueled your anger.

You walked over to her and rested your hands on her shoulders, squeezing a little too harshly than you’d intended to. You wished she were thinking about anything other than Baekhyun but you weren’t surprised to find that she wasn’t.

“Lys!” She exclaimed, almost falling out of the little worn out wooden stool. She met your eyes, albeit with great difficulty.

Deliberately curling your lips into your best feature - a sinister smile, you whispered in her ear, “One that is good enough for carving a man’s heart out of his chest,” before tossing a piece of silver in her direction and strutting out with a navaja, a fighting knife.

***

“Do you have it?”

Kai appeared in your tent as you sat leisurely, snacking on peeled almonds.

“Solve a mystery for me. How do you always find me because I’ve never seen you wander in through the entrance panels. You just pop up out of nowhere.”

“We have an important task at hand.” He said, sitting down next to you, bearing the mannerism of an army general.

“No, I need to know. Now.”

Kai groaned at your unpredictable temperament and slapped his thighs.

“Alright, if you must know,” he said in a seductively low voice, leering at you as his nimble fingers drew circles along your foot. He slowly drew your skirts up with his other hand and you immediately smacked it down in protest.

“Fine,” he chimed. Letting out a sigh, he tugged at your anklet, “The sound of this has been burned into my memory. It’s how I find you everytime.”

“How very romantic. What if I were to take it off?” You asked playfully.

He tilted his head to the side, a hint of annoyance on his face. Firmly, he said, “Please, don’t.”

“Alright, alright!” You exclaimed at the sudden shift in his mood. “So what’s next?” You asked.

He removed an unassuming little vial from the pocket of his buckskin waistcoat and said, “This.”

You recognized the design of the vial - the opaque green glass bottle and its mouth closed with a black cork, “A spell?”

“The dragon’s wife is too trusting!” He exclaimed cockily.

“You went to see Bulibasha’s wife -”

“Assuming a disguise, of course!”

“Are you insane?!”

“Does it come as a surprise?”

“What did you tell her?!”

“I told her that this spell is the only way I can be with the one I love. And I wasn’t lying.”

“You really have a death wish, gadjo!”

“Kai!”

It took you a little while to calculate the risks of his audacity. Gaping at him, you finally spoke again, “Tell me what’s next. I have the blade.”

“Excellent.” He held the bottle up to your eye level and explained, “I’m going to sprinkle this on the Bladerunner when she’s on her way back home in the evening and her worst fears will come alive and start gnawing at her. And what do you think is her worst fear?”

“Losing Baekhyun.” You answered in a haughty disdain.

Kai chuckled. “Perfect. You said your brother and the dragon are going to visit your pretty little fiancé tonight? This spell will get the better of the Bladerunner and against her best judgement, she’s bound to go to see Baekhyun around the same time. The two men already have their suspicions about her and to catch her visiting Baekhyun at an ungodly hour will only reinforce their worst fears and this time they’ll not be able to wriggle out of it. Baekhyun and the Bladerunner will definitely be called into the dragon’s spine-chilling, morbid private chamber after that and a decision will be made.”

“What does that mean for us?” You asked, adrenaline making your blood quicken.

“Leave that to me. All you have to do is be there before they pronounce a decision and request a private audience with the dragon and your brother. And remember to,” he grabbed the navaja from your nightstand, its cutting edge reflecting the glint in Kai’s eyes. The corners of his mouth curled up, he quipped innocently, “use this well.”

The day unfolded exactly the way Kai had predicted.

Baekhyun and the Bladerunner had been called into Yixing’s private chamber at dawn. It was too early for the clan to start it’s day so you waited outside the tent just as Kai had instructed, listening closely for the right time to make an entrance. A loud and intense argument ensued between Minseok, Yixing, and Baekhyun - the three men who might as well be sworn brothers.

If you’d never met Kai, you would’ve thought that Baekhyun was being dramatic - fighting tooth and nail to save himself from heartbreak. It was a little selfish, you thought. Hearts mend, your father said to you when you had begged him not to put down your pet goat when she’d injured herself.

“But not without leaving a deep scar,” you muttered to yourself before barging into Bulibasha’s private chamber.

Seeing your father’s arrogant portrait next to the dragon’s in Yixing’s private chamber bolstered your bitterness towards him. Without another thought, you struck the portrait in its right eye with the navaja. That wasn’t what the knife was intended for but it was akin to killing two birds with one stone. As it went flying towards the portrait, it nicked the Bladerunner’s ear since she heroically pushed her lover out of harm’s way.

“Lys! You’ve ruined Father’s portrait!” Your dutiful big brother lambasted you.

Having dressed for the occasion in a red, black, and gold robes, and lips painted in a delicious scarlet, you walked with a deliberate swing in your hips, your dark, waist length hair emulating the movement. You allowed your fingernails to brush the Bladerunner’s arm as you sauntered over for the navaja under eagle-eyed stares.

With the knife in your hand, you came and stood before the Bladerunner, placed a hand on her cheek and whispered, “You have beautiful skin, Bladerunner. I’d hate to ruin it,” as you ran the edge of the navaja along her neck, pressing it just enough to leave her with a superficial cut. You were sure Baekhyun was bound to overreact, and he did.

He pulled you out of the way, standing like a barrier between the woman he loved and the one he tolerated. His firm grasp around your wrist was starting to hurt you but you maintained an unwavering demeanour. Your eyes landed on Baekhyun’s exposed sternum. It had been a while since you saw him without the basil necklace. The necklace was a testament of the promise you made to love and cherish each other forever but it was obviously no more than an accessory to him.

“Hand it over. It never looked good on you, anyway.” You whispered and extended your hand toward him. Without a word, he slapped the necklace into your palm. Your heart hammered widely against your ribs because things were going exactly the way they were supposed to but in your experience it was never a good sign.

You knew what Baekhyun was going to do next. The look in your eyes taunted and teased him until he finally snapped. Baekhyun grabbed the dagger from your hand amidst loud gasps from everyone present.

He’d done it.

One prevalent belief still held by the clan was that taking a knife straight from someone’s hand meant that the relationship between the giver and the recipient had been severed.

Baekhyun had finally severed his relationship with you. Despite the anxiety bubbling in your stomach, you smiled inwardly at Kai’s genius.

“Baekhyun! What have you done?” Yixing’s voice thundered, echoing loudly in everyone’s ears but the enormity of his action was clearly lost on the Baekhyun. He continued to plead, “If the Bladerunner is to be punished, Bulibasha, I deserve a harsher punishment. I don’t care what the Zakono says. You can’t go on acting like she was alone in this!”

Minseok seemed firmly rooted to his place as he shot daggers at Baekhyun, his cat-like eyes disapproving Baekhyun’s out-of-character rebelliousness.

Now’s the time, you thought to yourself before being the one to break the uncomfortable silence. “He seeks her when he’s upset. And even when he’s not.” You turned to bow before Yixing and appealed, “Bulibasha, I would like to request a private audience.”

***

An exhausted Yixing slumped to the floor with his back against his spectacular dragon portrait. Face buried in hands, he groaned, “You young people really know how to complicate matters.”

“I agree,” Minseok joined in the whining while pouring wine into three goblets.

“Yixing, you have to stop acting like we have decades between us. And Minseok, put that down! It’s too early in the day for wine! Tell me what you’d rather have me do. He’s been in love with the Bladerunner forever.” You tried reasoning with them but Minseok only shook his head indignantly at your words.

“Baekhyun can’t do this to us after everything our family’s done for him. We took him in, fed him, clothed him. This is not how he repays us!” Minseok exclaimed.

You couldn’t help but draw parallels between Kai and Baekhyun’s journey so far. While they didn’t have a lot in common, one thing was for sure. They’d forever been treated like outsiders in their own homes.

“Bulibasha -” You turned to plead with Yixing.

“This is a nice switch from Yixing for when you want to reprimand me to Bulibasha for when you need something from me.” Chastised Yixing, tilting his head to the side, expression blank.

Eyes downcast, you mumbled, “I don’t want to go ahead with the wedding.”

“The Lys I know would want revenge. The Lys I know would’ve asked for his head on a spike. And hers, too!” Yixing exclaimed.

“I’m just not the same Lys anymore. The both of you really need to stop trying to control everything and everyone around you. Minseok, you know we have better fighters now and we don’t really need Baekhyun anymore. And you can’t use me to keep him by your side forever. Besides,” you got up to fetch a goblet of wine for yourself, “forgive me but… i need some liquid courage before I -”

“Please don’t tell me you’re serious about the gadjo.” Minseok muttered nonchalantly, with blatant disregard for the surprise his statement had taken you with.

Steadying yourself by tightly gripping the goblet, you asked, “You know about him?!”

“Of course, I do!” Minseok exclaimed, “I mean, we do, Yixing and I both. You thought you’d disappear randomly and nobody would ever find out? The gadjo even procured a spell from the Clan Leader’s wife! It was foolish, if you ask me.”

You offered no further explanation and said instead, “Kai. It’s his name. You’d do well to remember.”

Fuming, Yixing bellowed, “Have you no shame, Lys? His people stormed our clan. We lost no fewer than eight lives that day! You lost Vera! Have you forgotten already?”

With no care in the world, you started to defend Kai, “I haven’t forgotten and I never will. But the monsters who raided us weren’t his people. He was just as surprised by it as we were. Whatever happened is Dado’s fault.”

It was Minseok’s turn to rebuke you, “Lys, I know you love to blame him for everything but this is a serious matter. You’re taking things too far.”

“No, Minseok, it honestly is!”

Minseok and Yixing listened carefully as you revealed to them the secrets your father had been harbouring and how it was his ruse to pin the blame of the raid on Kai. Neither of them spoke for quite some time, trying to assimilate the information you’d just shared with them.

“Lys,” said Yixing calmly, as Minseok sat with his hand over his head, “even if what you say is true, you know the Zakono does not permit you to marry a gadjo.”

“Bulibasha, say that I was snatched...taken...it’s better than saying that I ran away. I can’t bear to be here any longer.” You walked over to where your brother sat, shaken and furious. You took his hands in yours, looked into his eyes and cried, “Minseok, someone like me is not meant to be confined… I want to be out in the world, moving constantly, exploring, unearthing its marvels and wonders, its deepest ...the most well kept secrets, just- just living. I am begging you to let me live!”

“Lys, that’s enough!” Interrupted a new voice, bringing you a sudden surge of relief.

You turned around to find Kai in light-toned pink fitted trousers and a broad cummerbund around his slim waist that accentuated the elegant lines of his body. A relaxed chiffon and lace tunic in the same pale pink shade with flared sleeves that closed around his wrists was tucked into the cummerbund and his ebony hair fell in silken locks over his forehead.

He took confident strides towards Yixing, and stated with a sense of surety in his eyes, “If we wanted, we could’ve disappeared without a trace.”

“Get out, gadjo,” said Minseok in a dangerously low voice, “nobody needs you here.”

“The woman I love does,” answered Kai coldly, “so I will stay until she asks me to leave.”

Anger igniting his momentum, Minseok lunged forward and punched Kai in the chest with all the strength he could muster causing Kai to stumble several feet back.

“Look at him!” Spat Minseok as you rushed to Kai’s aid while he struggled to gain his bearings. “What a weakling! I cannot trust him to protect my little sister.”

Regaining your composure, you said to your brother in a threateningly calm voice, “Minseok...don’t make me say it.”

Minseok turned to you, face scarlet and eyes bloodshot. He demanded, “What is left to be said, Lys?”

Brows furrowed you looked him in the eyes as your heart threatened to leap out of your chest. “Father doesn’t have a lot of years left and... you know how bad it’ll be if word got out we were raided because of his misdeeds...the wrong decisions he made as Clan Leader.”

Minseok laughed darkly and shot you a disgusted look. “You’re right, Lys. You’re clearly not a child anymore. But what would you rather have me do, huh? Disrespect the Zakono? Give you away to a man who abandoned his own people? One who doesn’t have a place to call home?”

“Minseok, that’s enough,” commanded Yixing, causing Minseok to stop at once. Hands on hips, he continued, “Everyone has the right to choose their own destiny. And I’m sure you understand this better than I do, you can’t expect our headstrong Lys to change her mind easily especially when it’s set on something. We’ll let you have your way, Lys. But -” Yixing’s scrutinizing gaze met Kai’s kind eyes.

Yixing reached for the leather coffer which sat in an inconspicuous corner of the tent. You’d been to the private chamber multiple times for various reasons before but you’d never noticed the coffer. He crouched over it, rummaging for something specific. It was a few minutes before he rose to his full height again, a talisman in his hand, his face saying nothing in particular.

He split the talisman in two, fastened one half of it to a black thread and quietly tied it around your neck and gave the other piece to Minseok. The talisman was similar to the one he wore around his wrist. It was very much like a jade stone, flickering in various shades of green as if alive and breathing.

“The talisman will tell us where you are - at all times. It’ll turn red to signal us when you’re in mortal danger. If that is to ever happen, no matter where you are, you know I’ll find to you in no time. And when the light goes out - ” before the mood could turn somber, Yixing continued with a voice heavily laced with pride, “Don’t ever think about taking the talisman off. Well, the truth is, you couldn’t even if you tried. This thread has been strengthened by a number of powerful charms and spells..fashioned by my own wife.”

You responded only with an understanding nod, the realization that you were finally going to have it your way had not sunk in yet. Yixing and Kai shared a look before Kai walked over to him with a grave expression on his face. Yixing drew a dagger out the bandoleer strapped around his thigh and Kai placed his hand on the teakwood desk in the room.

“Make it quick, Bulibasha,” said Kai.

“What’s going on?” You whispered into Minseok’s ear.

Minseok sighed before responding in a clipped tone, “Proof that we fought for you when the gadjo was taking you away as revenge for the death of his dacoit friends. But the gadjo just.. vanished with you and all we managed to get was -”

Your conversation was interrupted by Kai’s muffled cry of pain as he collapsed at Yixing’s feet.

“- a little finger.”

In a state of blind panic, you rushed to be by Kai’s side, struggling to form words. You were aware that Yixing wouldn’t let you go without proof of Kai’s commitment towards you but you never imagined it would come to this.

“Take this,” Yixing held the mouth of a vial to Kai’s lips as he grappled with consciousness. Kai hurriedly gulped down the milk of the poppy which knocked him out almost immediately. While he was asleep, Yixing called for his woman to clean and bandage him.

***

You spent that time sitting next to a sulking Minseok.

Setting aside his pride, Minseok finally asked, “Will you atleast come visit?”

You rested your head on your brother’s shoulder and he instinctively huddled closer to pat it affectionately. “Every full moon, I promise,” you replied softly as a silent tear rolled down your cheek.

He pulled out a heavy drawstring pouch from the inside pocket of his coat and handed it to you saying, “Keep this.”

You shook the purse in your hand until the coins jingled and then reprimanded Minseok, “Kai’s father is King for god’s sake! He can take care of me.”

“But I still want you to have it. I had so many dreams.. the wedding I’d planned for you..” said Minseok as tears sparkled like diamonds in his eyes, “please...keep it.”

You pulled your brother into a tight hug and sobbed, “Take care of yourself, always.”

“You’re a fine one to talk...eloping with a gadjo. Can’t say that I didn’t see this coming. Unconventional to the end, Lys.” He twisted your ear playfully while crying and laughing simultaneously.

“Let those idiots get married, Minseok, and set the fool who broke my heart free.”

“Lys -”

Pouting, you asked, “Won’t you do it for your darling sister?”

“Fine!” Minseok agreed begrudgingly, “Anything else, your highness?”

“Take care of Vera’s mother.”

“You know I already do,” said Minseok, flicking your forehead. “Promise me you’ll come visit? And you’ll always, always take care of yourself?”

You took Minseok’s hand in yours and pressed your lips to his knuckles, as his heart continued to weep.

***

It was nearly noon when Kai finally awoke.

You stood up as he walked over to you with a marked confidence in his demeanour like his little finger wasn’t carved out of his body just a few hours ago. He wrapped his arms around your waist, while Yixing and Minseok watched uncomfortably, and rested his forehead against yours.

With your hand on his chest you asked Kai, “Are you alright?”

“Never been better. You look like a bride, iubirea mea,” he said, holding you closer, tighter as his hands travelled the length of your back.

“Shall we?” He asked, lowering his head to press his lips against yours. He deepened the kiss and you responded with equal fervour as he lifted you off your feet, twirling you in his arms until you felt a familiar, intense drop in your stomach, one you’d soon have to get used to.

‘Cause I’m too wicked I want to take all of your heart Don’t you worry So soon, you have my world

You make me feel so Mm-mhm..

**********************

hello @diveinthebluewithyou this one’s for you...welcome to Romaniverse!! hope you enjoy <3

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reluctant-mandalore · 4 years

Text

The Artist (Din Djarin x gn!Reader)

Word Count: 3821

Warnings: Fluffy with some angst and an angry Din. He’s a bit mean at first but I promise he makes it right. Not beta read because I wanted to get this out asap.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: I couldn’t resist writing, it was just such a sweet idea. I ended up getting carried away, so it’s kind of long lol. As per usual I got some angsty din in here but it’s all fluffy and happy at the end I promise!! Also, Din is a bit mean at first, he’s a grumpy grump who’s mad about his face being plastered everywhere, but he turns into a softy fairly quickly. I tried to stay gender neutral but I may have slipped up sooo yeah. Enjoy!

Original Post: The original post is here and the lovely darling who came up with this idea was @mandowhorian

Edits: (4)**Reader blushing was removed to made to be more inclusive** (1)Just some grammar and spelling edits done. Also fixed up some of the paragraphs I felt were a bit weird. (2) I was looking back at this so I could post it to AO3 and noticed that the @ to the original poster of the idea was wrong, sorry for any unnecessary notifications!! (3)More spelling and grammar fixes, also fixed a pronoun error. ^-^

The bounty should have been simple enough. The mandalorian had been tasked with bringing in a lone artist from the outer rim. The artist was overdue on some payments to a lone shark and had seemingly gone into hiding to avoid these payments. Originally, he hadn’t planned on taking the job, but the pay was decent enough and it should have been rather easy. It wouldn’t take much to bring in the little artist, though he had been warned about them having some weird abilities.

Din wasn’t too concerned in that regard. He’s seen some weird stuff in his time as a bounty hunter. Honestly he wasn’t sure anything could top the child and his strange powers anyway. Although with that in mind, nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to walk into.

The bounty hunter had approached the structure quietly, it was later in the evening and much of the busy crowds were leaving for the night. The studio was small with tables propped out front, most likely used for sales, though today they had remained empty. He had asked some locals about the artist, learning how the artist was currently grieving and wasn’t offering or selling any services at the moment due to it. Many of the locals even saying that they hadn’t even seen the artist emerge from their studio for some days now.

Din had ended up watching the little studio for most of the day anyway, looking for signs of the bounty. Truth to the locals words, the bounty never emerged to sell their works. So, with the streets having become empty and with no signs of the artist, he made his way to the entrance of the building.

Pulling back the cloth to the entrance of the bounties private studio, Din was met with something he had never expected to see within. His face. Specifically, his face plastered everywhere on canvases around the studio.

Din had stumbled back in shock at what he saw, knocking over some paint cans as he did. He felt frozen in time standing there staring at the works of art and suddenly felt himself become overwhelmed with a multitude of emotions.

Managing to collect himself, he straightened and slowly walked through the room, taking in each painting he saw. Every painting was unique in some way, whether it be from the paint used or the style in which it took. Some were younger versions of himself while others reflected his current aging features. His fingers had trailed lightly across the surface of one painting in particular, a dark and gloomy piece hidden away in a corner. Similar to the others, it was of his face, but this time it was bloody and bruised. His portrait self almost looking to be on the brink of death.

Din had a feeling of when this painting had been painted and why it was done in the way that it was. How did they know what he looked like that day? Did they see? He wasn’t even aware of anyone else, other than the droid of course, being there. How did he not notice them?

Many thoughts and feelings were pouring through him while looking at the piece of art. Feelings of confusion, anger, and distress had soon consumed him, but the worst of it all had to be the feeling of fear.

Fear because someone had seen his face. Fear because this meant his creed was crumbling to ashes before his eyes. Fear because it was possible that it may have been like that for longer than he ever knew. Fear because in this moment everything he had worked for was crashing down around him and he wasn’t even exactly sure how it happened.

Engrossed with his worries, the Mandalorian didn’t even hear the artist approaching. Coming through a back hallway, the artist had suddenly appeared from around a corner, stopping when their eyes landed on his form. They looked at him from afar, watching him take in the painting before him. Not even aware of the distress that currently wrecked the Mandalorian’s body and mind. Their own head tilting to the side as confusion began marking their own soft features, and wondering why a Mandalorian of all things had stumbled into their studio.

“Can I help you there? Customers aren’t supposed to enter the studio and I’m not currently taking any orders.”

Hearing them speak had snapped him out of his confused daze and he slowly turned his head to stare at them silently. He knew instantly based off the description from the client that this was his bounty standing before him. The Mandalorian’s mind soon beginning work over time to try and comprehend exactly what his target was doing. His mind trying to work out the answers to his bundles of questions.

Were they trying to mock him? Trying to act as if they had no idea who he was or what they had done? This had to be a plot that they came up with. They must have known he was coming and had plotted how to distract him. Maybe they just wanted to taunt him? A sort of ‘fuck you I know your face and have ruined your life’ kind of taunt.

“You’re a mandalorian right? Are you after a bounty-”

Din was swift and predatory in his movements, not giving them time to finish their sentence as he grabbed and pinned them to the ground. Their tiny wrists held in his one hand, pinned above their head, while he roughly shoved a blaster to their cheek. His body had soon pressed into theirs as a way to use his size and weight to keep them still underneath him. He radiated danger and had waves of anger rolling off of him. The sight of him in this angry state certainly would have had any number of people running, included the artist if they weren’t currently pinned underneath him.

The artist had squirmed under him in panic, attempting to free themselves, but not being able to due to his sheer strength. He could feel the heat from their body seep through his armor into his own, and any other time being this close to someone would have made the Mandalorian flush. However, at this moment, Din wasn’t concerned about such things. He was more worried about the fact that the person underneath him knew his face.

“What’s with all the paintings? How do you know?” He growled out, his grip tightening around them, his helmet now inches from their own face.

A whimper sounded from the artist below him and tears had begun to form at the corners of their eyes, “I-I don’t know what you mean.” Their voice was shaky and their form trembled under his. They were utterly powerless and weak when compared to the Mandalorian.

He scoffed at their response, it wouldn’t be the first time a bounty had tried to play innocent and dumb. Shedding some fake tears wasn’t going to soften him up any bit. “Don’t act dumb. How did you find out? Where did you see it?”

“Find out what? I-” They paused as he had moved the blaster closer to them as they spoke. “I-I really don’t know what you mean!”

Admittedly, the job was far from his mind at this moment, all he cared about was dealing with the fact that someone had seen his face. That this person before him had decided to taunt him with the knowledge of them having seen it. Job be damned, it felt like his whole self was destroyed, his creed most likely broken. He could care less about the dumb bounty job. He just needed answers.

Din growled again, his anger continuing to grow as they proceeded to deny any knowledge of what he was asking. He ended up hulling them to their feet, his grip never loosening as he did. He turned them around to face the corner which held the painting he had looked at not too long ago. He had pressed himself into their back when he did, a hand coming to roughly grab their chin to force them to look at the painting before them, the blaster still at the ready if needed.

“That face.” He gritted out, his fingers beginning to dig into their skin, “Where did you see it?”

He watched as their fearful expression morphed into that of one marked with sadness. A frown had now etched across their lips, and they looked away as a few of their tears finally slid down their cheeks.

Din was surprised by their reaction, he thought for sure they would have given up the whole innocent act by now or would have at least slipped up a bit. However, they didn’t and if anything it only made them seem to be more genuine in his eyes—a thought that both angered and confused him more than anything.

Mumbled words was the only reply he got from them at first, their voice barely audible to him, “What was that?”

“He’s my soulmate... or he was supposed to be at least.”

Din could feel himself pale under the helmet at their words, a feeling of shock once again spreading throughout his body, as he found himself letting go of them in an instant. His anger had disappeared completely at hearing their explanation—leaving only confusion in its wake.

It crossed his mind briefly that they could be messing with him still, but the expression they wore and the sincerity in their voice had stomped the idea completely. They were being serious, and Din had no idea how to handle such information.

Stepping back from them, the blaster fell to his side. “I.. what?” were the only things he could manage to say in his stage of shock and confusion.

“Do you know what the force is?”

“Barely.”

“Well, through the force, I get force visions of him all the time. They’re usually just his face, his surroundings were always blurry to me, but his face was always clear.” They began to explain as Din listened while remaining silent, “The force is not strong with me, so I think that’s why the visions were not always so clear to me.”

“So this isn’t just some sort of sick joke of yours to try and mock me?” He asked, still having some trouble in believing what the artist was expressing to him. “You’re not lying just to try and get me to not take you in?”

He watched as anger had marked their once saddened features, “A joke? You think I would joke about something like this? That I would spend years of my life painting and wondering where he was—wondering if he was safe?”

Din stood and just listened as they went off on him. Their anger about the accusation evident as they bitterly ranted to him about his behaviour during the past half hour or so. He continued watching as their rant died down to them just fuming while looking at anything that wasn’t him—clearly upset and hurt by his remarks.

“If you’re here to collect me for a bounty just get it over with, don’t deepen my grief.” Sometimes he could forget how insensitive he could be. It was already clear enough to not have been some joke or plot. So why did he have to continue suggesting such things?

The room had filled with silence after the artist had finished their long winded speech to him, and it felt stuffy with the new atmosphere between them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...” His voice was the first to break the silence before he had trailed off again, “What made you think the visions were of your soulmate?”

They had seemed to calm again with his question, a sigh escaping their lips as they went to continue their explanation from before to the Mandalorian, “Honestly? I didn’t think such a thing at first, but eventually, I could just feel it.” They paused, seemingly trying to figure out how to word their thoughts before speaking once more, “I guess you could say I just knew that this was the man I was connected to for life. I could feel it in my heart—in my soul. He was the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with, or at least I thought so until the last one….”

The artist trailed off again, a habit of theirs that Din had noted to himself as he watched them go over to look at the painting properly. Their arms had crossed over their chest now, hugging themselves as if they were cold, but it seemed to be more for personal comfort than anything. Din had took note the expression they wore on their face and suddenly felt a rush of guilt flow through him for how he had previously handled them.

“The last one?” He couldn’t help but question.

They nodded and smiled sadly at him as they wiped the tears falling from their eyes “I think I saw him die some months ago. The last vision I had of him was of him looking like that and I haven’t had any visions since.” They had motioned in the direction of the painting before them, only providing more evidence that it was in fact a painting of the face he had wore while on the brink of death that fateful day.

“So I think he...” their words died in a quiet sob, one of their hands clasping over their mouth as he watched their figure become consumed with grief.

The words from the locals of the artist grieving came back to him as everything began to fall into place. This person was grieving who they believed to be their soulmate. They were grieving Din and they hadn’t even met him. It was something difficult for him to fathom at first, but seeing how it broke them had made his heart sink none the least.

“He’s not dead.” The words left him before he could stop himself. The urge to suddenly comfort the distressed artist before him coming to light.

The artist turned to look at him suddenly, almost doing a double take from his words “Wait do you know who he is?” They questioned, their expression changing from one of sadness to wonder. “What’s his name? Is he ok? Can you take me to see him? I’ll pay you…”

Their voice stopped registering in the hunters mind as he tried to comprehend their questions and excitement. They weren’t lying. They were being truthful in everything they spoke and they had no clue that the face in the paintings were his. They truly didn’t know anything about him other than what they had seen in their visions and yet they loved him enough to grieve for him.

Din didn’t know how to answer all those questions of theirs. It was him. The answer was simple yet also hard to articulate. The man in their paintings, in their visions, was him.

That was his face. His face which no one was supposed to see. He almost wanted to yell out that it was him. He wanted to scream to them about the creed and how it was everything to him.

The creed he swore might be in question now and he didn’t know how to feel about it other than dread. He understood how some circumstances were accepted in regards to others seeing his face. Did a soulmate having visions fall within those categories? He didn’t know, but really hoped so at this moment.

“It’s me.” The words finally wafted out his modulator in a whisper, barely audible, but the artist had clearly caught it.

The artist had stared at him with shining wide eyes. A hand had come to their mouth again but this time in surprise. Not being able to bear looking at them anymore, the Mandalorian turned away again. as his heart began beating rapidly in his chest at the confession. “It’s my face. It’s me.”

Their reply was equally as quiet, a mere whisper through the air, “R-Really? You’re not lying?”

The only response he could muster was a small nod, as he was afraid of how his voice would sound. There were so many things to discuss with them. Things like his way of life and the danger it entailed. He also needed to tell them about the creed, and most importantly, the child in his current care. All of this didn’t even include the things he was sure they had to tell him.

Din had jumped at the sudden feeling of their body pressing into his back. His mind blanking at their touch and smell engulfing him. The feeling of them wrapping their arms around his waist had caused a flush to spread over his skin and a shaky breath to barely sound through his modulator. It had been so long since someone had touched him in the slightest and he wasn’t prepared for it to happen like it just had.

“I was beginning to think I’d never meet you, I mean, I literally thought you died.” Their words were muffled into his armored back and hearing them he felt his heart clench again.

Seeming to catch themselves, the artist pulled away from him, shyly looking away at the realization of their impulsive actions. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hug you out of the blue like that.” They had managed to stutter out, “It’s felt like I’ve known you forever even though we’ve really just met and I literally thought I had lost you. So I guess I’m just happy.”

“It’s fine” He replied quietly, feeling his heart skip a beat at seeing the small smile that graced their cheeks from his words. “It should be me saying sorry for how I treated you earlier anyway.” He continued, turning to face them properly and looking down at their wrists he had grabbed so harshly not too long ago.

“I mean you're a mandalorian right? Your kind don’t show your faces to anyone, I’m sure it was quite a shock to see all the paintings.”

He was surprised with them having some sort of knowledge of his way of life. Even if it was so little, any amount was better than none. “You know of mandalore?”

The artist shrugged, looking down at their hands as they twirled their fingers. “Only a little of what I have heard. People say you're the fiercest warriors in the Galaxy.”

He nodded in reply to them as they fell into an awkward silence once more. Honestly, Din had never talked much in the first place and he had already talked more than what he was used to within the last hour. He also wasn’t really sure where to start.

What did they do now? Did he invite them back to the ship? Ask for them to pack up and move in? Maybe they should just call it a night and worry about it in the morning. It was late after all, and of course the child still waited for him to return.

“Are you going to turn me in? That’s why you’re here right? I’m your bounty.” The artist was still smiling at him even after such inquiries, “I won’t stop you if you want to. Just knowing you’re ok is enough for me. I don’t want to get in the way of your job.”

Sweet. Too sweet. Maybe even naive. That was how Din would describe them in this moment. He believed them too in their claims, that they would happily let him take them to their impending doom at the hands of some scummy lone-shark.

Din was honestly surprised to see how easily they just offered themselves up to him. How easy would it be to just take them up on their offer and turn them in. After turning them in, he could then just shove the whole experience into the back of his mind to be forgotten. It would be a simple and easy process for someone of his kind.

“No.” He answered, not even needing to think about the answer for long. There was no way he could turn them in now. “I… it's just…” He trailed off, even now trying to find a logical response to his reasoning. Even if one wasn’t needed in the first place.

Many others wouldn’t care. They would turn in the artist without a thought, soulmate or not. It wouldn’t matter to them, but to Din. To him it mattered more than he ever thought it would.

“Are you good with kids?” He asked them, thinking of the child waiting for him. He could already see the child taking a liking to them and the idea of having some help with the child was something he looked forward to.

“You have kids?”

He shifted uneasily at their question, feeling oddly vulnerable in this moment, “Sort of, I have a foundling in my care and have been thinking about getting someone to help with caring for him.”

Din couldn’t explain the sudden concern that he felt at telling them of the child. He didn’t understand the sudden want for them to accept the little womp rat. The thought of maybe them not wanting anything to do with him now that they knew he had a child in his care actually scared him. Even worse, he found himself fearing their rejection, already having a desire to keep them with him.

Which is why he was happy to see the large grin that had spread across their cheeks at hearing about the child, “I would love to help you with that.”

“The position is permanent.” He said with a teasing undertone in his voice, not being able to help the sudden bubble of happiness which had swelled within him.

“Oh I would hope so.”

A grin had spread across his lips under the helmet at their own teasing reply, and he found himself closing the distance between them once more. One of his gloved hands had came to their cheek, tilting their head to look up at him. In response one of their own hands, paint stains and all, covered his. He had watched them for a bit like this, before finally pressing his helmet against their forehead.

A Keldabe kiss.

He wasn’t sure if they knew exactly what he was doing, but he would explain everything to them soon enough. For now, he just enjoyed the moment he was sharing with them. His eyes closing, as his arms had moved to wrap themselves around the artist to hold them closely.

They had then stood embracing each other for a while, just allowing each other to take in the other's presence while they did. Honestly Din found himself never wanting to let go of them again—a feeling foreign but not unpleasant for him.

Din couldn’t explain why it felt so right to be this close to someone he barely knew. He couldn’t even understand why he had suddenly wanted to spend the rest of his life with this person. The only thing known to him in this moment was that before him stood a person who would be forever intertwined with him.

His clan of two had become a clan of three.

Tags:

@murdermewithbooks @hdlynnslibrary @imalovernotahater @askalphapazvizla @onlydarth @mandodjarin @pedrosdoll @fleurdemiel145 @anothermoronintransition

I think I got everyone that either wanted to be tagged or seemed interested in it. Sorry for any missed tags and for any unwanted tags >.<

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m0chisenpai · 4 years

Text

Faith and Trust

Pairing: Bilbo Baggins x fairy!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.7 k

Authors note: I talked about this like once and then wrote thus on impulse in the span of like two days. It’s a stand alone but if I could do a mini series on this I definitely would and expect some angst along the way too.

Fairies were a rare creature to walk Middle Earth. They were neither extinct, nor plentiful. They resided in the water, in the Woodlands, few found solace in the mountains. As long as there was a tree there were hollow trees there were bound to be fairies. Tales would go on about their ethereal beauty, their wondrous powers, and then there were the stories of their mischief.

These creatures were dangerous. Leading adventurers into the dangers of Middle Earth or residing in homes only to drive families out. But just as much as they were attracted to mischief they were attracted to those which were sweet.

Bilbo Baggins woke up like every morning to the warmth of his bed, and to a kitchen which he bustled about to make a filling first breakfast. Only when he had gone to sit and enjoyed it he found tiny bites taken out of it. He merely brushed it off deeming he might have taken a few bites and it slipped his mind.

But then came time to sit out and enjoy a smoke from his pipe which wound up missing. Rather than it being in its usual place on his writing desk he found it to be in his armchair. These strange happenings continued on for days only wearing his patience thin and making the merry Baggins a large grump.

A bell like giggle made the fuming hobbit turn towards a shaking bush. It stopped for a moment then shook again, twinkling in the morning light and with silent careful steps he shook the bush and out shot a small girl in a mess of curls and sparkles that rolled off her body.

“I knew it!” He pointed a shaking finger at the giggling girl who sat up looking up at the hobbit with innocent eyes. Oh those eyes melted away any anger held in them. Fairies were not born of evil nature, it was merely in their blood and ways to mess about those who lived near their home trees.

“You’re a fairy aren’t you?”

You nodded hopping to your feet. Your skin was a beautiful ochre and your curls shined beautifully beneath the afternoon sun. Yet your eyes were the most inhumane thing, they were a beautiful golden color. She was a head smaller than a hobbit and approached him carefully only when she was a few inches from him she floated off her feet to meet his eyes.

“Hobbit?”

“Well yes that is what I am, and you! You have been trespassing and messing about in my home!” Bilbo’s words knocked the girl on her bare feet which she rocked on.

“Well you should know fairies tend to find themselves gravitating toward the company of others.”

“Company!? You soaked and ruined my tobacco pouch!

“So do you wish for me to leave?”

“Yes!”

“Very well, but on one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You are able to produce sweet things if I am not mistaken. I see you get the sweets from that warm room. All I ask is that you leave me something sweet after every meal you sit down for.”

Bilbo let out a sigh and ran a hand over his face. “Very well, and your name?”

You smiled dipping into a small curtsy “Y/N.”

He returned your smile with a slight bow of his head, “Bilbo Baggins, at your service. When the sun fully sets I have my last meal of the day”

“Very well, until then Mr.Baggins” you waved as the sparkles that danced around your body slowly clung and shrunk down to your sparkling small form which Bilbo watched fly away.

You never got that close to any creature of Middle Earth before.

That evening for supper just before Bilbo left out a plate in front of him with a few tea cakes and then he began to eat his own meal. A few bites into his meal a warm glow floated into the seat and slowly enlarged taking the shape of the young fairy who immediately took a tea cake and put it into it ignoring the shocked hobbits' gaping face.

“Is there a problem Mr. Bilbo?” You looked up at the hobbit, your cheeks puffed out clearly filled with pastry.

“Well surely you are...cold in that thing are you not?” His cheeks red as he motioned to her sheer dress that hung off her body. He never realized it earlier but her garments were not of the shire. They were much like flower petals almost. And you found what you wore extremely comfortable, there were some fairies who chose to fly about nude, but it wasn’t unusual. Your kind just happened to be comfortable in your skin.

“Hmm well this is what I typically wear. But I saw some of the other hobbit women wear such comfortable clothes! Will you teach me how to make them Mr.Bilbo?” Your eyes glowed up as you looked up at the hobbit who signed through his nose.

“After the second breakfast tomorrow we'll see about a dress for you.”

“There’s more meals?!”

Bilbo kept to his word and took the young fairy into town where you happily flitted about finding herself to be extremely fond of the pastries or sweet that your eyes landed on. Bilbo ended up getting more than a dress, but a few on top of a basket of muffins which you held in the crook of her arm while you nibbled on a muffin.

At first Bilbo found the fairy to be a nuisance, and sometimes she would work his nerves. One morning he woke to your body snuggled against his own and his scream surely woke the Shire.

Another time she went to sit down at the table to read a book she had found, but the only seat available was the one Bilbo was in and so she chose to sit on his lap which made the hobbit give a long winded speech with rose red cheeks.

And then there were moments when she made his hobbit hole feel less empty. Like in the mornings when you’d miss out on your first meal. He would wrap a biscuit or cake in a handkerchief and stuff it into his front pocket. That way when you caught him out in front of his home you’d sit beside him nibbling on the treat while you watched him blow the smoke into unique shapes.

Whenever he went to sit down for a meal or tea she would be waiting in what she claimed as her spot. And as you two shared a meal you’d beg for him to tell you more about life in the Shire, and he would. He would tell her how his people chose a life of peace here, find a spouse, settle down and create a family together.

“And do you want one Mr.Baggins? A family of your own?”

His cheeks warmed up as your eyes innocently looked up into his own, “one day perhaps.”

Bilbo neglected to realize how much time passed with the fairy by his side as the warm sunny days turned shorter, and the winds grew cold and crisp. The leaves on the trees change from beautiful greens to bright oranges and ambers.

He hated to admit it but some mornings he would wake to find you snuggled beneath the sheets with your head nuzzled against his chest. Bilbo had a warmth to him you clung onto.

And rather than shove you away or get up he would use a free hand to brush over your sparkling cheeks, or twirl a loose curl around his finger.

One one particular day in the warmth of his hobbit hole Bilbo sat at his desk making a list of much needed things to get done before the first snow would fall.

“Y/N” you turned to look back at the hobbit as you chose to sit on the floor in front of the warm fire in hopes it would warm you during the chilly weather. A large quilt swallowed you up which you chose to patch up as some of the kind hobbit women taught you stitching and quilting.

“You stay here much longer these days, not that I am complaining! But does your family miss you?”

Your head tilted in thought. “I think they do, but my family left after I bloomed. They assumed I had passed on and as a result I was left behind. I found a home in a tree that was not my own and I found love with a new family, but I feel as though I am not not meant there. Sometimes I feel I’ll never find my true home again.”

“Oh Y/N...” You quickly turned her head away. Your family is truly loved, but a fairies original tree home holds a special spot in one's heart forever. And when you stepped out the fresh petals of flower to darkness and the cold you never forgot that sad feeling.

You couldn’t fly since the tree's heart was empty of any dust and walked for days nearly being squished to death by animals and other creatures. Once your new home found you they quickly took you in. Your wilted wings sprung to life and the color returned to your body after bathing in the hollows dust.

As your thoughts lingered on Bilbo noted your still form and stood from his spot. He silently took a spot beside you noticing how that sparkle your face typically held dimmed.

“No one should be left alone, and you will not be alone forever. You’ve a heart made of gold I am sure any dwarf would try to steal you if they could. But never feel as though you have no place.”

As he spoke did you slowly begin to look up at Bilbo with warm cheeks. Your bottom lip quivered turning into a pout and you threw your sewing aside to throw yourself in the hobbits arms hugging him tightly.

When he overcame his shock Bilbo wrapped his arms around you holding you tightly against his chest.

“You shouldn’t say such things Bilbo, you’ll only make it harder for me to leave.”

“Then stay” you looked up at the hobbit with wide eyes “your home is here in Bag End. I’ll give you as many treats, as much tea, anything as long as you’ll stay.”

That beautiful giggle warmed his heart as you shook your head, “I only need you Bilbo.”

#bilbo x reader #bilbo baggins #bilbo baggins x reader #the hobbit #the hobbit x reader

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four-loose-screws · 3 years

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FE8 Novelization Translation - Chapter 12, Section 2

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

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I call this a “section” because it is not a separate part of the chapter in the book, but divided from the rest of the chapter by a scene break.

———————————

Chapter 12: The Wyvern Rider's Wrath (con’t)

When confronted, their formation did not crumble. They waited patiently. Because Eirika’s army had to rush right into the center of that formation and break through it, they were clearly at a disadvantage.

The enemy was using the canyon’s complex terrain to their advantage. Just when the enemies in front of them captured all of their attention, soldiers lying in wait would appear from unexpected directions.

“Do not fall back! Keep moving!” The enemy’s sheer might put great pressure on them. Eirika called out to any soldiers that looked like they might pull back, and led them directly.

Nearby, a sudden, violent noise echoed through the air. Eirika immediately turned around, and saw Franz fall to the ground. It appeared that his horse had been shot and he’d fallen off.

“Franz! Are you alright?”

She ran over to him, but he quickly sat up before she could lend him a hand. He shrugged off his pain and forced himself to smile. “I am! I’m not injured at all!”

However, his lance arm seemed to have been injured from the force of the fall. He couldn’t put any power into it.

“You need to be healed right away…!” Eirika wrapped him around her shoulder, and stood him up.

The healer unit on the rear line felt so very far away. Compared to their enemy, organized in their perfect formation, Eirika’s army was split up, and they couldn’t cooperate with each other at all.

Had she chosen the wrong order to give?

Doubt sprouted up within her. Perhaps what Innes had said was right, and they should have pulled back for a moment to assess the situation. Had commanding her army to charge no matter what may happen been utterly reckless?

Joshua had told her that this would be best. But they were slowly being closed in on now. It wasn't too late. Should she order her entire army to retreat…?

"Eirika, look over there!"

Tana's voice rang through her ears.

If Tana flew up into the sky, she would just become fodder for the ballista, so Achaeus had greatly reduced the height he flew at, and stayed just above everyone's heads. Tana was clinging to his mane, and staying around the rear line.

Eirika saw three figures just ahead of them. "Dragons…?"

She froze. The three figures were calmly flapping their giant wings, and coming their way. Because she'd just seen dragons a few days ago on the mountain, there was no way she could mistake the sight of them. They were dragon riders from the Grado Army.

Was it General Glen? Eirika's heart was filled with both hope and anxiety.

He had promised to ask the emperor what his true intentions were. Once he knew that the crime Eirika was accused of was a lie, he would surely focus his efforts on working towards a conclusion to the war.

Was he able to find out the truth? Had he learned that Eirika did not massacre ordinary citizens? Had he come to order the Grado Army to stop fighting?

The wyverns gradually became bigger and bigger. The Grado Army also noticed them, and started cheering. Both armies pulled back to make space for them. The canyon with two armies jumbled together fighting in it opened up.

And it was indeed there that the dragons landed. The wind their wings whipped up caused a small dust storm, making Eirika squint.

A tall young man jumped down from the lead dragon. He wasn't Glen.

The young man landed on the ground and studied his surroundings with anger in his eyes. His gaze stopped on Eirika.

He had brown skin and sharp eyes. 'His facial features look like Glen's…' The moment Eirika had that thought, he started walking with huge steps. Directly towards her.

She stepped back. There was a fierce hatred within his eyes.

"Are you the princess of Renais?" He stopped in front of her, and spoke in a low voice.

Eirika nodded timidly and asked in return, "And you are…?"

"I am Cormag. The brother of the man you slaughtered, General Glen."

"...What?" She couldn't believe her ears.

Silence fell across the battlefield. Even the Grado soldiers gulped and stared at Cormag.

"I… killed… General Glen…? I could never…"

"I cannot hold a grudge against you for it. It is the nature of the battlefield to kill your enemies. But that reasoning alone will not calm my feelings! I must avenge him!"

"Please wait. What do you mean? There's no way… are you saying General Glen is dead? What could have possibly ha…?"

"Don't play dumb with me!" Cormag shouted and cut her off.

Deep within his harsh anger, she could also feel a hint of sadness, and it made her unable to know what to say.

Glen was dead. The shock she was in was immeasurable. Who could have killed such a brave general? She couldn't imagine who.

Cormag seemed to think that it was she who had done it. She shook her head weakly. "This… is a misunderstanding. I didn't fight General Glen." Eirika only angered him more and more with each word, but she further pleaded with the young man, as he was still gripping his lance. “The general promised me that he would confirm the truth with the emperor. He was going to ask if the charges against me were true, and…”

“Don’t try to mess with me! You really think my brother would trust you!?”

“It wasn’t about him trusting me. General Glen had a strong sense of justice. The claim that I massacred innocents in Kiris was vague and without proof. So he decided to confirm the truth… and tried to return temporarily to the capital to ask the emperor for the truth.”

Her voice was shaking. Every time she remembered Glen’s face in the moment they said goodbye, her chest tightened. Though she’d seen hope in him that he could help end the war… he’d been lost suddenly and unexpectedly.

Cormag’s expression changed to one of doubt. His features were still harsh, but he narrowed his eyes in thought.

“That does sound like something he would have done. He wasn’t the kind of person to fight someone when he wasn’t sure of what was true and what was false.”

“Yes… I once met him at Grado Palace. Both General Duessel and Prince Lyon praised him for his strength and honesty. Anything he was working towards, he hoped would help bring an end to wars like this one quickly. And yet he was…”

Eirika’s words and expression both made Cormag start shaking. He swallowed, unable to hide his confusion. “So… if it wasn’t you, then who…? Who could have killed my brother…?”

Cormag’s eyes fell on Eirika’s hand. In it, she was gripping her beloved rapier. His eyes became even more harsh. He whispered slowly, confirming each word as he spoke them, “...The wound in Brother’s chest. It was not one that could have been inflicted by a sword. It had to have been… a lance. Brother was killed by a lance. But there shouldn’t be that many people who are strong enough to be able to kill my brother with just one strike…”

Suddenly, the color drained from his face. His voice was like a growl. “...No… Valter? Was it him…?”

Cormag tightened his grip around his lance, startling Eirika. However, he did not point it at Eirika. Instead, he brought it to his chest, as someone about to make a very important vow would do.

Eirika saw that his face was stiff with nervousness, and it made her uneasy.

However, the words that he spoke were a complete surprise.

“Princess Eirika. I will work together with you.”

“Huh?”

“Starting now, my enemy is the Grado Empire. Until I kill the man who killed my brother… I will work with you.”

Eirika couldn’t believe her ears. The two soldiers he’d brought with him reacted in the same way.

“Sir Cormag!” One of his dragon riders said in a shrill voice. His face was pale. “What are you saying!? There’s… There’s no way you could betray Grado!”

“I want to avenge my brother. I don’t care if I’m called a traitor for that.”

“You’re supposed to inherit the title of Sunstone! For you to do something so foolish… you would sully your late brother’s honor!”

Cormag’s expression looked pained for a moment, but then he shook his head. “My conscience is my guide. I have nothing that I should be ashamed of. I know Brother would understand.”

“Sir Cormag…”

“If you want to stop me, then come at me at your full strength!” Cormag raised his lance and turned it towards the dragon riders that he was supposed to be working with.

The dragon riders were still pale, but made up their minds and tightened their grips on their lances, then one shouted to the paralyzed Grado soldiers, “He’s a traitor! Cormag… no, that man… kill him!”

Though they were enemies, the dragon riders were heroic knights. They both shouted as they raised their lances and charged towards Cormag.

Cormag stood up straight. Going up against two knights riding dragons should have put him at an overwhelming disadvantage, but he was calm.

He spun his long lance. With that one attack, he delivered a fatal blow to both the dragons' necks.

Their stances crumbled, causing their riders to lose their balance and fall to the ground.

“Who’s next?! I don’t care where you come from! I’ll fight you!” Cormag shouted.

The dumbfounded Grado Army ran towards him.

The soldiers clad in Grado armor collapsed, one after the other. By the time Eirika came back to her senses, four soldiers were already lying on the ground in a pool of blood.

A commotion started to sound from behind them, signaling that the second enemy army was probably making their entrance. They likely thought that the battle had progressed with Cormag defeating Eirika, and her army falling in one fell swoop to the front army’s pincer attack. However, the tide of battle had changed.

Eirika’s decision to have her entire army continue marching forward was the right one. They didn’t panic at the sudden appearance of the army coming from behind, and instead were able to face the enemy reinforcements with strength to spare.

The battle became more intense than it had been before. Cormag’s betrayal had shaken up the Grado army, and he showed no mercy towards his former allies. He fought so fiercely that it looked like he had become possessed by something, waving around his lance without taking even a single moment to rest.

He defeated roughly ten soldiers in the blink of an eye, then climbed back atop his dragon.

His mount did not care which side he was on either. Dragons were known to be highly intelligent creatures, and loyal to their riders. He allowed Cormag to direct him and spread his wings open wide. That was when the real battle started.

Eirika’s overwhelmed army made a comeback, yet still, Aias’ strategy truly was a magnificent one. Aias himself was lying in wait inside of a fort deep within the canyon, and did not try to show himself, but his commands traveled to every corner of his army. The Grado Army had recovered from the shake-up, but they were getting desperate.

The battle was at a stalemate. As Eirika’s army became more and more exhausted, continuing to fight became all the more grueling for them. The enemy had made bases of small forts located throughout the canyon, making them able to fight while revitalizing their morale. The army behind Eirika’s also pushed against them so much that it seemed like the enemy had unlimited reinforcements.

At this rate, the fighting would continue on until nightfall. That worry started to make her chest feel tight.

If darkness fell, then her army, which did not have a base of their own, would be at a fatal disadvantage. They would become terrified that they would not know where their enemies might attack from, and that would add all the more to their fatigue.

Just then, a loud commotion arose from within the fighting soldiers. Eirika turned her head to see what it was.

It looked like a large number of reinforcements had arrived yet again. She looked up towards the sky. This attack would be too much for her army, which was only becoming more and more exhausted.

‘Is there already nothing that can save us…?’ The moment she felt just about ready to give up, she heard a voice.

“Lady Eirika, it appears that the Holy Knights of Rausten have arrived.” Seth, who had been protecting her, called out.

“Rausten…? Is it true?”

She greatly doubted it, as L’Arachel’s information had been nothing more than a vague message the wind had told her.

“Look at their flag. It has the emblem of Rausten’s holy knights sewn into it.”

Seth pulled Eirika atop his horse, and she looked in the direction that he was pointing.

She could see it clearly, fluttering in the twilight sky. There was no mistaking it. It was indeed the emblem of Rausten’s holy knights.

Although Eirika couldn't normally call herself a deeply religious person, she found herself whispering a prayer of thanks to the gods. Reinforcements had arrived at the very last minute. She couldn't think of it as anything else than a real miracle.

The Grado soldiers panicked and started to flee. No matter how much they'd had the upper hand until now, they were tired as well. Now up against a strong enemy like the Holy Knights of Rausten, it was no surprise that their will to fight shriveled up.

"They're finally here!" The voice was L'Arachel's.

Eirika turned around and looked at the smiling woman.

Dozla dropped his axe and sighed, then his bearded face turned up into a relieved smile. "They're late! I was nervous they wouldn't make it in time!"

"Truly! That was quite a close call!!"

The knights shouted a valiant battle cry, then rushed straight ahead. The Grado soldiers could not hold out for even a second. They were defeated in the blink of an eye.

Eirika tried to go over towards the knights with Seth, but then she received word that a messenger had arrived.

Eirika entrusted Seth to receive the message first, then continued over to the knights along with L’Arachel.

The knights also noticed that Eirika and some of the others were near them, and one ran up to them. “Princess! The Holy Knights of Rausten have arrived!” He then bowed his head towards L’Arachel.

Eirika stared blankly in amazement at L’Arachel.

L’Arachel responded in a dignified voice, “I apologize for troubling you. Please raise your head.”

“We fought with the Grado Army along the way, and that is why we were late. We are very sorry!”

“By the gods, you were too late!” Dozla’s chest puffed up with anger, and he looked down upon the knight as he said, “If I hadn’t been here to protect Lady L’Arachel, can you imagine where she would be right now!? All of you need to reflect deeply upon your actions!”

“Yes, Sir! We are very ashamed, Sir!”

“Come now, Dozla, you can’t scold them. They’ve been fighting very difficult battles, just as we have.”

“Um… L’Arachel?”

Eirika had been in shock and listening to their conversation the entire time, but she was finally able to speak up and get a word in the conversation. “Who are you…? What connection do you have to the knights…?”

“Huh?” L’Arachel seemed to have completely forgotten that Eirika was there. She looked at EIrika with her eyes opened wide, and burst out in a fake laugh. “Ah, this… it’s nothing! Please pay us no mind!”

“But… they called you princess…?”

“That’s… that’s a nickname! Just a nickname…”

“Lady L’Arachel, I must humbly say that I don’t think there is any way you can hide your identity any longer…” Dozla whispered.

L’Arachel nodded in resignation. When she lifted her head back up, she said in a voice tinged with regret, “Oh well. Even though I wanted to leave it a mystery for just a little while longer… Alright, Eirika. Since things have come to this, I shall reveal the truth. My identity as a beautiful young woman wandering the lands continuously on a journey to slay monsters is only temporary. I am actually the princess of the Theocracy of Rausten!”

L’Arachel raised her staff majestically, and Dozla clapped his hands together with a thunderous boom.

Eirika’s eyes were wide as saucers as she stared straight at the master and servant. Now that L’Arachel had said it, many things suddenly made sense. She should have realized it when L’Arachel had predicted that the knights were close by.

“Why… did you decide to hide your identity and go on a journey? Fighting monsters is dangerous, right…?”

“Because it is my duty! No matter how dangerous it may be, it was a test given to me by the gods, so I gladly devoted myself to it.”

“And how noble of you it was, Lady L’Arachel!” Dozla shouted in a voice full of admiration.

L’Arachel puffed out her chest.

The knight whispered to Eirika, “The princess was impassioned by the words of the troubadour Saaga. She said that she wanted to fight evil just like a main character in a hero’s tale, and fled the palace, even though we did not agree with her passionate pleas…”

“I see…”

“Are you telling her more than she has to know?” L’Arachel strained her ears in their direction.

The knight panicked and dodged the question. “Not at all! More importantly, Princess, we’ve brought you something from King Mansel.” The knight turned around.

Another knight noticed this signal and slowly walked over to them. In his hands was a white bag, which he politely handed over to L’Arachel.

L’Arachel seemed to know what was inside without even asking the knight to confirm it. She gingerly took the bag, confirming just how heavy it was, then smiled with satisfaction. “These are war funds, correct? It’s just like Uncle to be so thoughtful!”

“He said to tell you that for the time being, he is giving you five thousand gold. If you should need more, then he will prepare it, so he wants you not to have any reservations about requesting it.”

“For now, this is plenty. Isn’t that right, Eirika?

L’Arachel dropped the bag, still full of all of the money, in Eirika’s hands. It felt very heavy to her. Their journey had continued on much longer than they had anticipated, so the war funds that King Hayden had given them were almost completely gone. She was very thankful for the assistance.

“I have one more message from King Mansel. Do not push yourself too far no matter the circumstances, listen closely to Sir Dozla’s good advice, never forget to give thanks to the gods, go to bed early and wake up early…”

Sensing that the message would continue on for a very long time, L’Arachel cut him off. “Understood! Lord Uncle is as much of a worrywart as ever, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Your Highness! In summary, he said that he wants to see you safe and sound as soon as possible, so please come home straight away.”

“Before that, we must defeat the Grado Army, which is currently attacking Jehanna. Once we’ve saved Jehanna, I’ve decided that I will come home immediately.”

L’Arachel’s voice was filled with excitement. The knights’ arrival seemed to have put her in a very good mood, and Eirika felt the same way. It also meant they had confirmation that they had the full cooperation of the Theocracy of Rausten. It was more reassuring to have them as an ally than anyone else.

However, Seth was running over towards them quickly. Eirika noticed the dark look on his face, making Eirika uneasy. “What’s wrong, Seth?”

“We’ve received a report from the front lines. Jehanna Palace suffered a fierce attack from the Grado Army, and has finally fallen.”

“What…?” Innes gasped.

The smile also disappeared from L’Arachel’s face.

Eirika couldn’t speak. She stood frozen in place, unable to do anything but stare at Seth.

Innes asked in a biting tone, “And the queen? Is Queen Ismaire safe?”

“That is unclear. The palace has already been conquered by the Grado Army, so we do not know any information about what is happening within it.”

“We must hurry, Eirika.” Innes turned toward her.

“Pray that she is safe. We must save her right away.”

“Yes!”

Eirika quickly started to turn around, but then Seth said, “The Grado Army’s commanding officer is Prince Lyon. That is the end of the messenger’s report.”

“...Lyon is…?” Her feet froze. When she looked up at Seth, he was staring at her with a dark expression on his face.

He knew very well the emotions Eirika and Ephraim felt for Prince Lyon. The siblings liked the kind prince very much.

Though she’d been prepared for this since the war started, now that the time might come to make a decision, she was very unsure. Would she be able to turn her blade against him?

L’Arachel saw Eirika’s expression, and tilted her head to the side. “What’s the matter?”

“...Oh, it’s nothing. Let’s hurry!”

It wasn’t entirely decided that they had to fight. There was surely still room for them to talk things out. There must have been a complicated reason as to why Lyon had to fight. Perhaps his father, Emperor Vigard, had forced him to, and he’d had no choice but to lead the army. Or maybe, rather than entrust the army to a violent commanding officer, he’d thought it best to go himself, and keep the damage done to Jehanna at a minimum… and that was why he volunteered to deploy.

Eirika shook her head, casting away her lingering memories. There was no time for her to waste guessing what Lyon’s feelings might be. The only thing she could do now was head towards Jehanna at once, and confirm that the queen was safe...

#fire emblem #fe #fe8 #sacred stones #gba #game boy advance #eirika #japan #japanese #translation #novel #light novel #fe8 novelization translation

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candychronicles · 5 years

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i need you // t. shigaraki

A/N: Originally inspired by a drabble I had written, it took on a life of it’s own. Dedicated to the lovely @katsukisprincess who is also a whore for soft, slightly ooc Shiggy.

CHARACTER PAIRING: Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,614

WARNINGS: hints of depression, unhealthy relationships, bad coping mechanisms

SYNOPSIS: Tomura Shigaraki was never one to show his feelings. In fact, he never even really considered he had them, until you came along.

“you should just fucking leave already. i’m busy and you’re annoying.”

those were the last words Shigaraki said to you before you had left the hideout and consequently the League behind. they had been your life for quite some time, adopting you in as one of their own without any question. no one had cared about your background, no one had cared what your quirk was, as long as it was useful in some way to the League. you had friends, a family, a unit, something to dedicate yourself to, something that made you feel not so alone.

you didn’t mean to fall for Shigaraki. you certainly didn’t expect him to return those feelings in any way, shape or form. you admired him above all else, a true god in your eyes. how someone so volatile, so brash, could have such genius ideas, who could truly be a mastermind behind the greatest group of villains there had ever been, was beyond your imagination. that’s why you had truly looked up to him. you had seen past the behavior of a spoiled kid and understood the knowledge and sheer power that he had possessed.

Shigaraki knew of your pure, unadulterated admiration for him and though he usually never cared about such things, he was enamored by you and your feelings. to him, knowing someone who seemed so innocent yet who held so much power and used it only to better the world, was mind boggling. he became enamored himself, wanting to know more about you, wanting to know just how far you were willing to go for him.

the game of cat and mouse played on for quite some time. Shigaraki took quite the interest in you and your special abilities, pushing you to your limits, teaching you, helping you grow and change into the person he wanted you to be. you obliged without question, doing anything to please him. to be frank, you were just happy that he was taking interest in you, never even believing that his interest was more than platonic.

the first signs were his inherent trust and respect towards you, indulging you with secrets and giving you important responsibilities within the League. that trust led to some vulnerability being shown, talking about more mundane topics and ideas with an eventual sort of confession that led to hours of desperate sex, not wanting to waste any more time ignoring what each other wanted.

unsurprisingly, Shigaraki was not easy to be with. despite you seeing him as more than a child, it was still hard to deal with his temper tantrums. you had been the only one who had really been able to calm him down, and though it was tedious at times, you persevered, bringing a sense of peace he never knew he needed until then. his mood swings were also something that was hard to become accustomed to, but over time, you had learned to read his tone and body language and adjust accordingly.

the one thing that you never were able to get used to was the lack of true affection from him. sure, he showered you with plenty of sexual affection, worshipping your body in ways you never knew were possible, and even splurged in stealing the occasional gift for you, but there was this emotional disconnect that was hard to look past. you had tried, you really had, but when he uttered those eleven words to you one night, you had turned around and left without batting an eyelash.

Shigaraki didn’t think that anything would come from his words; after all, he had said much worse to you before. it even took him almost a whole day before he had truly realized you were gone. at first, true panic had settled in. he thought you were kidnapped or caught but when Toga had assured him that you had just walked out one day, his panic subsided into a foggy numbness.

truth be told, Shigaraki was absolutely devastated. he couldn’t understand why you had left. he knew he was mean, he knew he crossed a line, but he thought you were in it for the long haul. his numbness turned to anger and he cursed your name with every nasty word he could think of. how dare you leave him, how dare you leave the League, leave behind everything that made you.

that anger turned into sheer sadness after the reality that you weren’t coming back settled in. you had left, he was alone, and it was terrifying. he didn’t realize how he needed you to sleep, how he needed you to calm him down, how you running your fingers through his hair was everything to him. he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t shower or bother to even change his clothes. rivulets of blood cascaded down his neck, scratch marks deep and angry.

it took days for him to come out of his room, and when he did, his whole demeanor was void of any real emotion. he took charge like nothing had happened, but everyone could tell something was wrong. a random lackey had challenged him and his ability to lead still which led to Shigaraki decaying the guy without a bat of an eyelash. everyone was on thin ice, but nobody dared to say anything.

it was only when Spinner had gotten a particularly nasty reprimanding from Shigaraki, nearly losing his life after a simple mistake, did anything get taken care of. Spinner tracked you down and spent hours begging you to return to the League, explaining how bad Shigaraki was and how he needed you, how they all needed you, to return.

“why didn’t he come here himself, if he is doing so bad? he doesn’t really care about me, he never has.”

eventually, you had agreed to return. if nothing else, you would be able to say your piece and truly move on; however, that plan went out the window as you had truly taken in Tomura Shigaraki’s appearance. his whole body had lost the aura of power. death and decay surrounded him in a thick, eerie fog. he was no longer the strong, powerful leader you had grown to admire and eventually love: he was dead inside.

“(y/n)?”

“hello, Tomura,” you had replied, voice steady despite the incessant pounding of your heart and your shallow breaths. you were scared, not of him, but of the state he was in.

he was sitting by the bar, body slumped over, video game loosely held in his frail hands. blood stains all over his shirt, neck raw from scratching, eyes bloodshot. when he had seen you, his whole body froze, shock barely registering on his face, the first emotion he had felt in weeks.

“they weren’t lying when they said you weren’t doing well, huh…” you mused.

without warning, the video game clattered loudly to the ground and Shigaraki launched himself off of the stool. his arms snaked around your body, pulling you close to him, ragged breaths tickling the back of your head.

you stood dumbfounded. you could count the number of times on your hand that Shigaraki had truly hugged you. you weren’t sure what to do, yet you put your hands gingerly around his shaking frame, holding him tight.

“i-i…” he trailed off, not sure where to begin. he had no idea what to say, no idea how to apologize, no way to understand what he was even feeling, but he knew he needed to say something, anything to convince you he was sorry.

“i need you. i need you so fucking bad. i don’t know why, i don’t know what’s going on, but fuck, you can’t leave me. not again, not ever.”

“Tomura…”

“please, come back to me. please. i love you.”

your body went rigid at his confession. you had no idea he felt that way. you had no idea he loved you.

“you know i love you too. you know i love you so much it hurts. it really does hurt. i-i know that you aren’t the type to shout your love out to the world. i know you can be stubborn, i know you don’t understand your emotions all the time. i have loved and accepted every part of you, good or bad, but it hurts to love you when you feel like you're not loved back. i need to know that you love me, Tomura. i need to know.”

Shigaraki had pulled back from you, looking at the tears streaming down your face, the pain in your eyes, and had dropped to his knees, carefully holding your hands in his own.

“i don’t know how to do this. i don’t know how to love. i didn’t even know i loved you until you left me. i was so lost, i was scared shitless. i didn’t want, i don’t want, to do any of this without you. i can’t promise i won’t push you away sometimes. i can’t promise i won’t be difficult. i can’t promise i’d ever put you before the League even. but i promise i will try my hardest to figure out what i’m feeling and i will work on it until i’m better, until i can treat you the way you deserve. a queen, standing by my side, helping me rule the world. i need you.”

without hesitation, you dropped to your knees with him, holding his face in your hands, looking at him with pure love.

“okay, Tomura. we’ll do this together. me and you.”

“you and me…” he repeated, smiling for the first time in a long, long time.

“but first, you need to shower.”

“only if you’ll join me.”

#tomura shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #bnha tomura #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #boku no hero x reader

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sparklydreamies · 4 years

Text

Stray Kids 8 Part Series ~ (1) Bang Chan: Perfection

Group: Stray Kids

Member: Bang Chan

Genre: Light angst + hurt/comfort

Word Count: 3,300+

Summary: Bang Chan can’t afford to take breaks in this industry.

Stray Kids 8 Part Series MASTERLIST

A/n: This is the beginning of an 8 part Stray Kids hurt/comfort series!! I hope that you will all enjoy this a lot :) also writing this sort of theme about Chan absolutely killed me because this man deserves the entire world ;-;

TW: This story contains a descriptive anxiety attack.

Through the blurry, sleepy view his eyes gave him, Bang Chan could barely make out the small, digital clock on his desk that read 3:14. He groaned softly as he resumed his work on what was soon to be Stray Kids’ next title track.

Normally, Chan considers himself a person who is able to work fast and diligently at the same time, which often comes in handy in an industry that demands perfection. Yet, as he sat slouched in his desk chair, fiddling with his laptop to try and create a proper bass line, he began to feel pressured.

For a producing idol, having writer’s block was a death sentence. Nothing had the power to overwhelm Chan with the heavy feeling of anxiety like a deadline for a demo due at the end of the week which has barely been started.

It’s not that the song hasn’t been started, it’s that it has been started and restarted too many times to count after Chan deemed the previous draft unacceptable. Chan’s standards for himself might seem overkill to some people, but Chan calls it being a perfectionist.

Everyone, including Bang Chan knows that real perfection was not possible for a man to achieve, however that didn’t stop Chan from striving for it. In a way, it was a blessing and a curse. Being a perfectionist meant that Chan was never finished with anything until he was one hundred percent proud of it. This demo was not an exception.

As Chan listened to the basic beats he had recorded already, he began to drift out of consciousness.

He had to finish the track. He was so tired. Maybe if he took a twenty minute nap he would feel better. No, he would just end up sleeping all night. Wake up. Don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall asleep.

He was yanked out of his dreamy state by the harsh sound of his phone vibrating on his desk. He took a second to gather his surroundings before checking the text message sent to him.

Changbinnie: Where are you?

Chan groaned. Changbin has been on his ass all week about taking care of himself as if he was made of glass. Changbin should know that this was how Chan worked. He always pushes himself to his breaking point and faces the brink of exhaustion in order to create the best music he could. There was no other way for him to make music.

Channie: Studio

Chan cracked his back against his chair before getting back to work. It was only three in the morning, which was hardly late enough for Chan to admit defeat and give into his drooping eyelids.

He didn’t get it. Music always came so easily to him. All of the lyrics he tried to write sounded too awkward for his liking. All of the beats were too overdone and basic. He was frustrated and tired, and far too busy to deal with Changbin’s nagging.

Sure, Chan hasn’t been around for many meals during the past few days. Lord knows he hasn’t seen the inside of the dorm in three days straight unless it was to shower and change. Chan scoffed thinking of how he would react if it was one of the other members working to this extent. He would physically restrain them to their beds if that was necessary. He was different, though. He was the leader and the eldest. He didn’t have the time to worry about himself. He was responsible for all of their careers. He could handle a little bit of extra work.

His hands were shaking slightly as he recorded another chord progression for the pre-chorus. At this point, Chan didn’t even know if they were shaking from exhaustion or from the sheer amount of caffeine he had coursing through his system.

Chan let out another exasperated noise of defeat as he listened to the choppy way the verse led into the pre-chorus. He felt the frustration take right to his heart. His head was pounding, and he gripped the strands of his hair to ground himself.

He was okay. He had pulled songs out of his ass before, he could do it now. It was going to be fine. Maybe if he added a lead-up sound into the pre-chorus, things would flow nicer.

Why did he feel his eyes filling up with tears? He had no time to feel sorry for himself. Nothing was working out, and crying about it wouldn’t change the fact that his head was completely empty of original song ideas.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands before focusing again on the track in front of him.

He hadn’t even started on the lyrics.

The sense of panic was far too strong, and his mind was screaming for him to buck up, focus harder, create something that was acceptable.

He was pulled out of his thoughts again by the sound of his studio door opening.

“You’re going to kill yourself, I hope you know,” Changbin said quietly as he made his way over to his usual chair beside Chan.

Chan tried to give a somewhat interested look to the younger rapper, but all he could manage was a slight head nod. He was still focused on the colourful lines of beats and chords on his laptop. He refrained from looking directly at the younger boy, not wanting to show any signs of the intense feelings that crushed his chest.

“Jesus christ, you actually look like shit,” Changbin grabbed Chan’s chin gently and brought his gaze towards away from the track which was causing so much grief, “why are you doing this?” Chan’s gaze remained unfocused, looking at nothing in particular.

Chan took a second to process what he was saying. Why was he doing this? Because it was his job. Because the company, the members and the fans were all waiting for him to do his job properly.

He wanted to say all of that, but what came out from his lips was “I have to”.

“That’s bullshit,” Changbin said, “I’ve been warning you about taking care of yourself-- Chan you’re shaking”. He moved to grab a hold of Chan’s trembling fingers. “You haven’t been eating, you haven’t been sleeping, you are a shell of yourself, and for what?”

“For our jobs, Binnie” Chan pulled his hands away from the other boy, turning himself back towards the screen. He didn’t want the younger to see the fresh pool of salty tears threatening to fall down his cheeks without consent.

Changbin sighed. “You’re more important than a deadline. You know that, right?”

“What do you want me to do?” Chan asked, “I'm okay”. His voice was reduced to nothing more than a whisper.

Chan didn’t need to look over to know that Changbin was thoroughly upset. Whether it was with him or the company, Chan didn’t know. All he knew was that when something upset Changbin, the aura of the room shifted. The air felt heavy and thick.

“I’m worried about you,” Changbin said, placing his hand on Chan’s shoulder. The older boy involuntarily flinched at the unexpected contact. “I woke up in the middle of the night to see that you aren’t in your bed again, and I just don’t know what to do anymore,”

“Don’t”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t be worried about me,” Chan swiveled in his chair to finally meet Changbin’s gaze for the first time that night, “it’s not your issue,” He was expecting frustration, anger or fury, but he was startled when all he could read in his brother’s eyes was shock and sadness.

“You don’t...” he trailed off, “you don’t sound like yourself...” Changbin slowly raised himself out of his chair. He was avoiding Chan’s eyes.

“All you’re doing is distracting me,” Chan accused, “I can handle myself, I don’t need you worrying about me like my mother,”

Changbin’s entire body was stiff. He looked uncomfortable, like he was trying to figure out what to say, but couldn’t.

Why couldn’t he see that this was what Chan needed? Why couldn’t he see that this was best? Why did he have to stick his nose in everybody’s business like he has any say in their activities?

“You should leave now,” Chan said coldly, “I have to get back to work,”

Changbin hesitated for a moment, seemingly mulling over what his next words should be.

“You’re upset that you are having trouble with a song... Big deal,” Changbin said, still quietly, but with so much more bite to his tone, which shocked Chan. “We have an entire group of kids at home who need their leader. You think that they don’t feel anxious these days? We all feel stressed, Chan”

“Bin-”

“These children look up to you because you’re a damn good leader,” Changbin began moving anxiously around the room, “they see their... role model throwing his health away for a song, and they think that should be the standard. It is sick, and it shouldn’t have to go that far,”

Chan felt the pressure in his head return at the words Changbin was saying. “You don’t have any right to bring them into this--”

“You know I found out Jeongin’s been skipping meals?” Changbin’s voice was steadily rising. His face was darkening with frustration that was hidden earlier.

Chan sat in stunned silence. Jeongin has been skipping meals? For how long? Why didn’t Chan realize this before? Was he sick? Did he need a councelor? Was he self conscious?

Before Chan got a chance to ask any of these questions, Changbin continued on his rant.

“All of the kids are stressed because that’s what happens before a comeback! I don’t give a damn if you want to ruin yourself for your music, because I get it. I do too. But I am not going to let you create a bad example for the kids. I can’t and I won’t,”

Chan finally found the strength in his legs to stand up and look at Changbin face to face. He could see that Changbin was furious by the fire in his eyes and the red colour that was taking over his skin.

“You have no right how to tell me to live, you don’t know what being the leader is like!” Chan snapped, shoving his finger into Changbin’s rapidly rising and falling chest, “I am doing this for the kids, okay?”

“If you honestly cared about them,” Changbin shoved Chan back away from him, causing the leader to stumble before gaining his balance on his desk chair, “you would make sure that they knew their health always comes first. This is a dangerous game, Chan! And sooner or later you are going to lose,”

“I think you should leave,” Chan said for the second time that night. He had enough. This was all so that Stray Kids could be the best group they can be, yet Changbin is acting like Chan is a maniac for being a perfectionist.

Changbin was stunned. “Be that way.” he mumbled before ultimately leaving the studio. Before ultimately leaving Chan alone.

The moment the door clicked shut behind the younger boy, Chan muffled his screams of frustration with his hands. The tears that have been on edge for a while now began streaming down his face, making tracks that felt like they burned the soft skin.

He was mad. No, mad was an understatement. He was upset. Furious. Angry. Pissed off. Hysterical. Any of those synonyms could describe the feelings that Chan felt. His head was pounding, and the pressure was back worse than ever.

He felt guilty because Changbin was right. He didn’t even notice that Jeongin wasn’t eating. He didn’t deserve to be a leader. He should quit. He should go to the company and tell them he failed.

Chan began pacing around the room, suddenly feeling like the walls were too small.

His gaze fell on the small, white laptop that was causing his pain, and he felt white hot anger and frustration. With a cry of anguish, he slammed the screen shut.

He pulled at his hair so forcefully he wouldn’t be surprised if it ripped from his scalp. His chest felt so tight.

The laptop. He shut it so hard... What if he shattered the screen? With a whimper, he raised the screen up to see that it was still in good condition. The contents of the screen however, were not.

Chan felt the air leave his lungs when he saw he got bounced out of the software. He felt like his world was crashing down around him.

With shaky hands, he moved the mouse to open the software again. Chan prayed to whatever deity there was up there that he didn’t just lose all of the progress that he most definitely didn’t press save for.

The one attempt of a song that Chan didn’t hate ended up deleting from his laptop, never to fully develop into a proper song.

That was the final straw for Chan.

All at once, it seemed like the Earth’s supply of oxygen vanished. His hands flew desperately to his hair in an attempt to pull himself out of the spiral he was in.

He was full on sobbing, clutching his knees to his chest once his legs gave out from under him. He struggled for breath on his studio floor. He was so tired. He wanted to sleep so bad.

It felt like his body was being compressed, and he didn’t know how to save himself. He felt hopeless and weak, crying over some stupid lost progress. His world was shattering.

Your work is gone.

Changbin hates you.

Jeongin isn’t eating because of you.

The members don’t want you as their leader.

The fans know you’re a fraud.

You’re a horrible idol.

You don’t deserve to be here.

These thoughts were ringing in Chan’s ears, bouncing around his skull. Chan cried out again, burying his face into the carpet, trying to breathe.

He needs help, but he doesn’t deserve it. He brought this on himself, and now he’s actually compelled to inconvenience another person with this. The track was gone, his members hated him, and he was broken.

Chan’s entire forehead was slick with sweat, and he felt his body tremble. He was a weak, worthless fool. He was clawing at any part of him that he could. He felt so weak and alone, sobbing his heart out on the floor.

He didn’t know exactly how long he spent curled up in a ball beside his desk before he was able to calm his heart rate down enough to process thoughts. He needed someone. He needed someone badly, but the weight of shame kept him seated against the wall.

He wanted to call Changbin and apologize so badly, but with how immature and selfish he had been acting, Chan didn’t deserve the kindness and support the younger boy would inevitably give him. The guilt of how he treated the other boy began to eat away at the shame.

With a spinning head, Chan hoisted himself upwards enough to grab his phone from the top of his desk. The time on the screen read 4:53, and Chan desperately hoped that Changbin was still awake.

Without hesitating enough to psyche himself out, Chan pressed the “call” icon, and waited. He tried to slow down his breathing enough so that Changbin wouldn’t know he was crying.

“What do you want?”

Chan was startled at Changbin’s greeting, almost stuttering his response. “I... I’m sorry,” was all that Chan could manage to say.

“You should be,”

Chan cringed at the bitterness in the other’s voice, but remained calm. “Can you come?” Chan’s voice was shaking slightly, and there was a beat of silence from the other end of the line.

“Are you crying?”

“No,” Chan denied, biting down on his closed fist in a sad attempt to stifle the sounds that were threatening to escape from his throat.

“Are you okay? Fuck I was almost home, but I’m coming back, okay? Just wait for me,”

Chan felt another set of hot tears trail down his cheeks, which sucked because he thought he didn’t have any more tears left in him. He wanted Changbin to come back to him, but not because he was afraid that Chan couldn’t handle simple emotions. “Okay,” he answered, and as soon as he felt the tightness in his throat, he hung up the call. Changbin didn’t need to hear him sob.

Chan felt himself start to slip into his spiral again, and slapped himself in the cheeks. He needed it to ground himself.

Just breathe.

Chan counted all of the breaths that he took until Changbin came. He tensed up once he felt a soft hand on his shoulder and a face next to his. He was expecting Changbin to be mad, however the boy keeps surprising him.

There were faint wrinkles of worry on Changbin’s forehead as he held a serious gaze with the blubbering boy in front of him. His touch was irritating to Chan, who shrugged the hand off his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” Changbin whispered, trying to meet Chan’s eyes.

Chan raised his eyes. “Why are you sorry?” he asked, sniffling and rubbing the tears away from his abused and stinging eyes. Changbin didn’t have anything to apologize for; it was Chan who was stupidly self-destructive.

Changbin moved so that he was sitting beside Chan, his back against the studio wall. “I was too harsh. I should have been more patient, I know you’re stressed,” he sighed. Of course Changbin had to be an angel.

“You... you were right,” Chan admitted.

“Bang Chan? Admitting I’m right?” Changbin teased, “that’s a first,”

Chan playfully shoved Changbin, and then moved to rest his head on the younger’s shoulder. The atmosphere was lighter now that Changbin was there to relieve the pain.

“I should have been a better leader,” Chan whispered, “I’m sorry,”

Changbin surely didn’t miss the way his voice faltered at the end of his statement. Chan felt his eyes get heavier, the post-panic attack fatigue getting to him.

“You’re a fucking amazing leader,” Changbin replied, “I’m sorry for being harsh. Although I am not sorry about telling you off for setting a bad example because I know that you can do better,”

“’S fair,” Chan slurred.

“Look at me,” Chan gave a half-hearted, half-interested moan, “Christopher, I said look at me,” Changbin commanded, grabbing Chan’s chin and bringing it to his face, “You are perfect.”

Chan searched Changbin’s eyes for lies, but was met with nothing but the sincerity of a best friend.

“You are perfection. And I know that whatever you end up doing is going to be perfect,”

Chan smiled at his friend. Even though he could be annoying and naggy, Changbin was always there to pick him up. He was always able to wipe the dirt off of your face when you fell from the high. He didn’t pass judgments.

Chan was stuck in his thoughts until the realization of his reality hit him like a freight train. “Fuck,” he said as he pulled his face away.

“What?”

“The song...” he said, grasping at his desk until he was in a standing position and opening his laptop again.

Changbin stood up too and sighed. “I thought you were going to take it easier from now on,” he whined.

“Fuck no, Changbin,” he said, tiredness still evident in his tone, “it’s gone,”

“It’s gone?” Changbin pulled his seat beside Chan, focusing on the newly opened blank track Chan started.

Chan just nodded as he tried to remember how the song goes. Okay, it was 120bpm tempo... What were the chords that made up the verse? What was the instrument? How did the beat go?

Chan groaned in frustration as he racked his brain.

“We’ve done this before,” Changbin shoved Chan so that he could get a better view of the laptop.

“Huh?”

“You, me and Jisung,” Changbin looked concentrated, “we’ve produced songs in hours. I’m sure we could get something done if we worked together,”

Chan smiled, probably for the first time in days. “I would like that a lot,” he said gratefully.

It was then that Chan realized that maybe some some people could be perfect after all.

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etlunainmorte · 4 years

Text

DMC MECHA VERSE: Part 2

( Because, yes! ❤❤❤😍😍😍 )

This is my Christmas gift to my dear friend, @dreaming-gamer . And the part 2 of my DMC Mecha Opera, err,... Alternate Universe! I hope you like this as much as I enjoyed writing this!😍😍😍❤❤❤

***

Previously,...

Without strength, you can't protect anything!

Nero took Credo out to visit Dante, the best Mecha Pilot Rubrum has ever seen, to prove to him that he’s worthy to be accepted as a student in the planet's most prestigious Mecha school, The Tyger University. But, on his way towards the legendary Pilot's residence, he saw a group of unknown Mecha chasing after the man, himself! And behind the Red Justice Rebellion's back was a mysterious metal case - containing Tigris Dominus' most lethal of all lethal secrets!

If you truly are righteous, you should not be running away from these men! You should face them as a man of justice should!

At first, our hero doubted Dante's intentions. Why was he running away? Why were these men chasing him? What,... was he hiding?!

Luckily for Dante, Nero listened to his heart and chose to protect him. He fought with Nico's underdeveloped Mecha, Credo, but ended up failing when he activated the not – so perfected laser beam!

All seemed lost, Nero and Dante were going to die!

I'm taking my,... time!

That was, until the mysterious thing that was concealed inside the metal case behind Rebellion's back showed itself. It was a man,... WHO TRANSFORMED INTO A MECHA!

A human,... who can turn into a machine?! What an unbelievable sight! And what a powerful being it was! With a single laser beam attack, he annihilated the enemies!

What is Dante's connection to this mysterious man? Why is he running away with him like a convicted man?

And most importantly, what would happen to Nero now that he is involved with the most destructive secret in the face of planet Rubrum?!

***

"Are you sure we would be safe here?" The Legendary Mecha Pilot, Dante, asked for the fourth time that evening as Nero led him, and the mysterious dark - haired man, who transformed into that powerful, mystical Mecha, into Nico's spacious secret facility.

"I told you! We're gonna be safe here. Trust me." And as much as Nero wanted to be more patient towards the Pilot and his strange behaviors, he could not shake off the foreboding feeling that began plaguing his head.

Especially when he gazed at that unconscious man in Dante's arms.

A man,... who could transform into a Mecha. And Dante being pursued by those Pilots who seemed to be working for Mundus, all because the famous Pilot took this man away,...

As soon as the men, and their slightly malfunctioning Mechas, were settled inside the dark facility, Nero made his way towards the corner of the room to look for the light switch. He was so itching to interrogate Dante about all this, and interrogate him, he shall.

"Now, as much as I admire you as the greatest Mecha Pilot in the Universe," The youth began. " ... you must tell me why - "

However, as soon as Nero opened the lights, he was shocked! Beyond surprise!

For, right before them stood Nico, and none other than Nero's mother, Queenie, herself. And what's more, right behind the ladies was a table full of Nero's favorite home cooked meals, and a large poster on the wall that says, "CONGRATULATIONS, ON YOUR PROMOTION, NERO!"

They were supposed to surprise him! And they were speechless! It looked like they were waiting for him to return for hours! But, they didn't only see Nero, they saw Dante, his Rebellion, the steaming Credo, and the unconscious mysterious man, as well!

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOIN' ON HERE?!" Eyes as wide as saucers, Nico questioned, the unused party popper still in her hands.

"Nero, sweetie, are you alright?" Queenie asked worriedly as her eyes bounced from Nero to Dante to the man in his arms, then back to her son.

It took Nero and Dante almost an hour to explain everything that went on earlier that day, how Nero was going to visit Dante, how he found the Rebellion being chased, and how this enigmatic man, now lying on the couch, still unconscious, saved them from certain death.

And by the time Nero finished explaining, Queenie got even more worried, and Nico started fuming even more in sheer anger.

"So, you're saying," Nico began, her voice getting dangerously low that it honestly scared both Nero and Dante. " ... YOU TOOK CREDO OUT,... JUST TO SHOW OFF IN FRONT OF DANTE?!"

"Well, I - " Nero tried to explain but, he was interrupted as Nico's cigar - stained, tattooed finger almost punctured his left shoulder.

"AND YOU'RE SAYING CREDO, MY GRANDMOTHER NELL'S MOST PRIZED CREATION, IS NOW DAMAGED BEYOND REPAIR BECAUSE YOU USED HIS UNDERDEVELOPED LASER BLAST?!"

"It's not what you think - !"

"AND YOU BROKE YOUR PROMISE TO NOT TAKE CREDO OUT! HOW. DARE. YOU! PSYCHO!"

"To be perfectly frank here," Nero thanked the Heaven's that Dante decided to intervene. Ignoring the youth's dagger gazes at him that clearly to ask for rescue, he went on. " ... Credo,... ahh, did I get the name right?"

"Damn straight ye did!" Nico huffed indignantly, crossing her arms and looking down at Dante with such ferocity.

"Ah, yes, Credo." Dante calmly went on, and with a smile and a single wink at Nero, he said, "You see, Credo is not Nell Goldstein's most prized work."

"Huh?" Nico muttered, raising her eyebrows.

And with this, Dante smirked and pointed at the Rebellion behind him with his thumb. "The Red Sword Of Justice, Rebellion. That's one of Nell Goldstein's Mecha masterpieces. You could say, that's made just for me."

"You're kidding." Nico blabbered without a single blink of an eye, unable to believe Dante's words. "H - how is that Nell's work? I thought Mundus and his scientists developed Rebellion?"

Dante sighed. "Well, you don't know a lot of things about Nell and Mundus! They go way back, you know?"

"Yeah, granny used to say that." Nico's walls were finally breached at the famous Pilot's words. And with a growing curiosity and fascination towards the Red Mecha, she now politely asked, "Hey, uhh, can I go s - see the Rebellion?"

"Ehh, sure! Whatever." Dante tiredly answered as he collapsed on the sofa right next to the dark - haired mystery man. Throwing the Rebellion's key at Nico, he added, "You'd even see Nell's original programming in it. One of Mundus' mad scientists tinkered with it and replaced it with one of his. Kinda made to synchronize with the other Mechs. You know? For tracing. But, don't worry! I put it back the way it is just before I threw my own ass out of Tigris. Spent the whole night working on it.”

With a huge smile on her face, and the golden key on her hands, Nico said, running towards the red Mecha, "This is a brand new discovery! I'm gonna take note of all of this!"

"Yeah, yeah." Dante muttered as the smile slowly faded away from his face. Looking at Nero, he asked in a whisper, "She’s really Nell's grandkid?"

Nero nodded. "Yeah, she is."

"Well, kinda hard to say! They don't exactly, ahh, look similar."

"You're not the first one. She gets that a lot."

"Hmm."

Nero sat at the chair opposite Dante, and with such curiosity burning at the back of his mind, he began asking. "Nell and Mundus went their separate ways. You left him. Nell tried to develop machines to match Mundus', you ran away with," Nero's eyes wandered towards the peaceful face of the dark - haired man sleeping on the sofa, then back at the renowned Pilot's eyes. " ... that." Nero ended with the word, unsure how to call the man - creature who saved his skin from danger. "Why are you, guys, plotting against Mundus? I mean, why are you,... hey!"

Nero's eyebrows furrowed when Dante began laughing quite hysterically. And this unnerved the youth, and scared the living hell out of his mother, who remained silent all throughout their conversation.

"Me and Nell? Plotting against Mundus?!" Dante mocked through his fits of uncontrolled laughter. Then, all of a sudden, all traces of amusement vanished from the Pilot's face, to be replaced with something that was truly menacing. "No, we're not plotting against Mundus. Mundus,... is plotting against the whole Universe."

"What?!" Nero was beyond shocked of what he just heard. It's truly unbelievable! "Y - you must be joking! You - "

"Mundus, for all his goody - two shoes farce of a leader, wanted nothing more than to dominate all the planets in existence." Dante began, his voice only being slightly interrupted by Nico's excited remarks on the Rebellion a few feet away from them. "And for that to happen, he wanted this kind of power that would give unlimited energy to his Mechas. He has been searching, for twenty goddamn years, for this source of power.

"And guess what? He found it! Right on a certain far - flung crimson planet on the neighborhood galaxy! The one planet we knew only as a myth! You know Operation Red Grave?"

"Y - yeah." Nero nervously answered, feeling his sweat and blood running colder and colder at the Pilot's relentless revelations. Giving a sad look to his mother right next to him, he said, "My father, who worked for Mundus, went along with that operation. He never returned, we never found out why."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear about that, kid, but, what do you remember about Operation Red Grave?" Dante went on, seemingly becoming more and more impatient.

Racking his brain for answers, Nero set aside his feelings towards the parent who abandoned him and his mother for a while and tried to recall the events that took place twenty years ago. "It's, ahh,... Operation Red Grave was launched by Mundus to repel the Rubrum rebels who fled into this neighbor planet and take into custody the innocent civilians they kidnapped and tried to murder."

"Don't you find it strange? If there are rebels, Mundus would not let them flee into another planet in the first place!"

"So you're saying it's all a farce?"

"Exactly! It's a huge, goddamn cover up! To kidnap the innocent civilians of the mythical crimson planet! And why?" Dante leaned a bit closer towards Nero as his eyes travelled to the man who was lying right next to him. Nero followed the direction of his eyes and realized,... everything.

It doesn't take genius brain cells to figure out what's truly going on.

Nero,... finally realized.

"This man," Nero said, feeling his voice shaking in fear. " ... he lived on that crimson planet, didn't he? Mundus,... is going to use him to power up his Mechas, isn't he?"

"Yes." Dante answered with a nod, his eyes as furious as they can be. "The pain he and his men went through. The torture they endured. It was a horrible, horrible nightmare! Mundus' mad scientists drained his fellowmen of all their power in many ways you would never dream of. They did it for power and still failed.

"And this man. He is the only one left. And he is very strong, as you have witnessed. That power you just saw? That's just the tip of the iceberg! This man tried to help what remained of his fellowmen to escape and nearly annihilated Tigris Dominus all by himself!"

"Wait! Is that," Nero interrupted as the pieces of the puzzle started coming together. " ... last year's Mecha facility malfunction that killed thousands of men? That was caused by this man?! It's another huge cover up?!"

"A FREAKIN' TRIPLE LASER BLAST AT THREE TIMES THE AVERAGE SPEED?!" Nico's voice from inside the Rebellion echoed all over the place all of a sudden. "HOOEE! THAT'S GENIUS MECHA ENGINEERIN' RIGHT THERE!"

"Got that damn straight, kid." Dante confirmed.

"What happened?" Nero asked, starting to feel pity towards this man he never even personally knew.

Dante shook his head with a pained look in his face. "Mundus ordered us to massacre those few remaining captives right before this poor guy's eyes. Sent him into panic mode. Got neutralized even before he got a chance to retaliate. Hold up a second right there. I disobeyed Mundus on the massacre part. That's why I was - "

"Sent to a military probation camp for a month, I know." Nero finished for Dante. "The media pretty much bloated it up, you know?"

"Punished for running away with nobleman Morrison's ward?!" The Pilot added. "That's bullshit! I don't even have the hots for Lady Patty Lowell! If you ask me, I'd rather go out with Lady Mary or Lady Tr - "

"Mundus surely values you as a Pilot." Nero cut him off mid - sentence. "Would have killed you for insubordination right then and there, you know?"

"Sure, he does! He raised us, yeah? We're the most talented men on the face of Rubrum, after all!"

Wait, us? "What do you mean by - ?"

"Anyway, we can't let Mundus get a hold of poetry guy right here. If he does, that marks the start of the apocalypse, as we know it."

"So,... that's," Nero said, slowly nodding in agreement. " ... what you mean before when you said he must not fall into the wrong hands, or something."

Dante held up a finger. "Close enough!" Then, rubbing his hands together, he added, "Do you have pizza right there? I'm starving!"

"I'm not sure about pizza but, yeah, go help yourself." Nero said as he watched the renowned Pilot, now wanted man, waltz towards the table to help himself with some chicken legs that Queenie herself cooked.

And Queenie?

"Hey, mom?" Nero was not surprised to see his mother so upset. After all, who could handle those facts that Dante just revealed and still remain calm?

However, this changed when the youth faced Queenie and convinced her to speak up.

"You okay there, mom?" Nero gently asked, his hand on her frail and bony shoulder.

Queenie faced her son and right then and there, Nero saw the tears in her kind blue eyes. And this broke the youth's heart. "I can't allow you to be involved with this, Nero."

"But, why? We can't just sit by and let Mundus do as he wants! Don't you understand? The whole Universe counts on us!"

"No! I won't let you fight this war! I lost your father, I won't ever lose you!"

That man,... Nero thought. She mentioned that man again. She must be really, really hurt.

"Mom, father left us, plain and simple! He was not fighting any war, nor protecting innocent, mythical beings like - "

"He did!" Everyone, even Nico, who heard Queenie's voice all the way towards Rebellion's cockpit, went silent when she raised her voice. "This,... Operation Red Grave. This mythical crimson planet. This,... abominable creature,… who turns into a deadly machine,...

"Your father,... tried to stop Mundus' plans! He tried to save each and every one of these creatures! All for the sake of mankind and the Universe! He,... single handedly fought Tigris Dominus, and Mundus, all by himself!

"And he was mercilessly killed! All because of Mundus' selfish needs! All because he went ahead and pretended to be the hero! But, the truth is – he was not!”

Nero felt a huge lump blocking his throat the moment he saw Queenie bursting into tears. The room was still silent, and he couldn't do anything else but watch as she quietly wept.

And, above all, he was speechless at what he just found out.

"You,... knew about Mundus' plans? Right from the very start?"

"Y - yes!" Queenie cried. “He,… told me everything,… before he left.”

"And you knew what really happened to dad but, you didn't tell me. Why?"

"You have to understand, Nero! I'm only trying to protect you - "

"Why did you hide all this?!" Nero stood, helpless, feeling his emotions getting the better of him. "I thought dad just left us. I mean, you knew all this time, and you didn't tell me?! Why did you lie to me, mom?! Answer me!”

"Nero, please - !"

"Erm, excuse me." Dante, who was still holding a chicken leg, now bitten on some parts, interrupted, getting between her and Nero and feeling really, really awkward. Facing the mother, he cautiously asked, "Ahh, your sweetheart who got killed by Mundus and his men. What's his name?"

"Vergil." Both mother and son answered.

And to this, the legendary Pilot's eyes widened in shock. Dropping the chicken leg onto the floor, he breathlessly mumbled, "O - oh, s - shit - !"

"What's wrong, Dante?" Nero asked, getting confused and impatient with the older man.

"W - well," Dante began. " ... y - you see, h - he's - "

"Ahh, Dante?" Nico nervously called from the Rebellion. "I see red dots on your monitor getting closer and closer to our location. Is that supposed to mean something important?"

"SHIT! THE TRACER!” Dante cursed. “I WASN’T ABLE TO OVERRIDE THAT PART OF THE CODE! MUNDUS FOUND US!"

The moment those words came out of Dante's lips, all of them heard an awful and deafening noise seemingly made by something mechanical, followed by a huge explosion that wrecked the wall of the once protected facility. The impact almost threw them away but, they were all protected by Credo, who was standing just between the wrecked wall and them.

And now, Nell Goldstein's prototype, The Creed 001, or simply known as Credo, lay in multiple pieces they couldn't even count.

"CREDO!" Nico, who was still inside Rebellion clinging for dear life, wailed. Her cries were followed by a voice that made their blood run cold. It seemed to come from a Mecha's speaker, its volume turned up to maximum.

"I know you're there, Dante, my son." That sinister voice said. It was, indeed, none other than Mundus, himself.

"Still as persistent as ever, are we, dad?!" Dante mocked, emphasizing the word, dad.

"Oh, you know the drill, my son." The voice that seemed to ring all over the place went on. "Surrender the Vitalis now, and none of your friends would be harmed."

"Oh, yeah?" Dante threatened, all the while signaling Nero and the others to carry the still unconscious man away from the place and escape. "And when was the last time you fulfilled a promise, huh?"

"Hahaha! Your foolishness would not get you anywhere, Dante! And it seems that you are still unwilling to accept my mercy even after I’ve done all acts of kindness towards you.”

"Mercy? Kindness?" Dante spout, giving Nero the angry look when he realized that they wouldn't leave without him. "Do you have,... any idea,... how much I've heard that exact same line from you?! You're a liar! And the Vitalis is not going anywhere! You,… WILL NEVER HAVE V!”

Dante's words were followed by a deathly silence that filled the room. And it was followed by a voice so horrific, it frightened the living hell out of them.

"And so be it."

What happened next went by in a blur. Dante angrily shouting at them to take cover, Nero protecting his mother and the said Vitalis with his own body, and Nico ducking inside the Rebellion as multiple laser beams assaulted them with the full intention of killing all of them.

However, the laser blasts didn't even reach their bodies. In fact, the multiple blasts of blinding light stopped suspended in mid air. As if time, itself, stopped. And when Nero looked beneath him, his eyes went wide with shock. He found his mother safe and sound but, the Vitalis was nowhere to be found. The youth looked up and saw the mysterious dark - haired man, himself, now wide awake, standing between him and the laser blasts that could've ended their lives. He seemed to be projecting, with his strangely marked hands, a force field that protected them like a very strong shield.

A few seconds later, Nero heard the Vitalis muttering something under his breath, and the multiple blasts of light slowly started moving towards them once more. At the blink of an eye, the blasts of light sped up towards them at their normal pace once more, and the Vitalis countered this by making another gesture that projected a seemingly electrical kind of force field that enveloped them like a pair of bright blue wings. The blasts of light flew towards the shield of wings and got instantly annihilated as they made contact with it.

"What,... the hell - ?" Dante muttered as he witnessed everything that's happening.

And even before Mundus could make another move, the Vitalis snapped his fingers.

The last things Nero saw that night was the Vitalis' hair turning from jet - black to white, and the whole room being engulfed in blinding light. As if he's died and gone to Heaven.

***

TO BE CONTINUED!

***

#Vitale #DMC5 #Devil May Cry 5 #dmc5 dante #dmc5 nero #dmc5 nico #DMC MECHA VERSE #Part 2

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fizzyxcustard · 4 years

Text

Fear and Loathing (2)

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Fandom: seaQuest 2032

Summary: (Part 2 of The Right Thing - this will be a chaptered fic) Captain Hudson knows that you and Lucas are more than just friends, and after changing your shift rotations to make sure you’re not on duty together, you take things into your own hands and request a transfer from seaQuest. Before your transfer can be processed, officers and crew begin showing signs of extreme anxiety, anger and paranoia. Some are worse affected than others, you being one of them. Can you fight for not only your relationship with Lucas but your state of mind?

Pairings: Ensign Lucas Wolenczak x FemLieutenant!Reader, Commander Jonathan Ford x Lieutenant Lonnie Henderson (only slight)

Warnings: Language, violence, insecurity, angst, paranoia, anxiety, mental instability, very mild sexual references, age difference/gap.

Comments: If you wish to be added to my seaQuest tag list, which will be separate from all my other tags, let me know, and I will only tag you in these if you specifically request to be tagged. This is practically a dead fandom now, but I would still like to share my writings with you. If you would like to ask any questions, then by all means just ask!

Captain Hudson ushered you into his quarters, and Lucas automatically followed on behind without any prompt. Lucas’ heart was racing frantically. He was losing you. And how could he stop it?

With a loud sigh, Hudson sat behind his desk. “I hope to get back to running this vessel sometime today,” he said sarcastically.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you apologised. “I’m aware of problems that have occurred due to my personal conduct with Ensign Wolenczak, and that is why I wish to request a transfer.” You stood upright, your hands behind your back, much in contrast to Lucas’ defensive posture of his crossed arms.

Lucas was aghast at you. “You can’t!”

You placed your official request of transfer down on Hudson’s desk. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Hudson said.

“You can’t actually accept this!” Lucas shouted, glaring at the Captain and pointing at the white envelope for emphasis.

Hudson’s jaw clenched in frustration and his eyes darkened. “You will control yourself, Ensign, or it will be you I transfer. She has every right to request transfer, and I thank you for your professionalism, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, Sir,” you replied, still remaining composed.

“Ensign, please return to your station. Lieutenant, I’d like a word.”

Lucas looked at you sadly, a stray tear falling down his cheek. Then he left the room, his shoulders hunched, the weight of the world resting upon them.

You continued to be composed, despite your heart shattering. By giving in to your feelings and instincts, you were now jeopardising your career.

“Take a seat,” Hudson instructed. It was quite plain for him to see the pain in your eyes that you were trying so hard to conceal. Hudson’s face softened and he sighed. “I was his age once, believe it or not, and he still has a lot of growing up to do in order to fill that uniform. Losing either of you is the last thing that I want to see happen, but may I give you a piece of advice?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t keep letting him push you to take full responsibility for this. Be accountable for your actions, and yours alone. Maybe the shift rotation change was a little harsh. Whilst I consider your transfer request, you’ll go back to your original shift pattern as of now. However, outside of duty and meal times, you and Mr. Wolenczak are under strict orders to remain separated. If I find that either of you have broken this order, you’ll both be dismissed from duty immediately.”

“Thank you for understanding, Sir,” you said, saluted, and left.

You returned to the bridge and sat beside Lucas in your usual spot. “Keep quiet, and that’s an order, Ensign,” you instructed, never looking at him. However, you could imagine his expression, but couldn’t bring yourself to look.

“Is everything alright, Lieutenant?” Commander Ford asked, approaching your station.

“Yes, Commander. Captain Hudson has changed my shift rotation back to its original pattern while my request for transfer is considered.” You knew that the others on the bridge were having their ears filled with your personal business, but you resigned yourself to the fact that they would all eventually find out what was happening.

For the rest of the day you and Lucas remained quiet, barely speaking but a handful of words to each other, which were always in connection with duty. Each time Hudson gave an order, you could see Lucas’ jaw clench tight and sheer loathing flash in his eyes. Hudson had understood you far more than you ever thought he would, and considering his authority, he hadn’t brought punishment down upon you that was as firm as other captains. The very first captain of seaQuest, Marilyn Stark, who perished after going rogue in her extreme ideas, would have probably recommended complete stripping of your rank and Lucas’, calling for your dismissal from the Navy and UEO. No way would you have been employed for either again, not even for a desk job in headquarters. There were certainly harsher captains to serve under.

At dinner, Lucas came behind you, holding an empty food tray. “What are you doing?” he growled in your ear.

“I’m doing what needs to be done, Lucas,” you hissed back in response. You never turned to see his face, but you could imagine his infamous sulking pout. The food you had put on your tray didn’t seem all that appealing, and as you gazed over it, your stomach began to lurch, and you could feel the all too familiar palpitations in your chest. It all seemed stronger than usual, until you lost your grip on the tray and it fell to the floor. All of a sudden you found yourself on the floor next to your tray. Lucas’ voice broke through the cloud of grogginess and dizziness that was surrounding you. Every breath you took and it felt like splintered glass in your chest.

“I’ll take her to Med Bay,” Lucas told the small gathering around you. Eyes were looking down on you and voices were loud, chattering at you and through you. The faces looked as though they were dissolving; you blinked hard, causing flashes of light to break through the darkness beneath your eyelids. Lucas tried to help you up, but you toppled to the side, nearly taking him down to the floor with you.

There was a small commotion around you as officers flitted in and out, and Lonnie finally returned with a wheelchair.

Lucas wheeled you out, and still your vision remained blurred. It was like a sheet of blue and silver before your eyes with flashes of beige and other colours, moving this way and that. Breath was passing through you a little easier now and the chest pain was subsiding.

In the Med Bay and the doctor, a middle-aged Irish fellow with glasses, began to inspect you, asking about your symptoms. By now and you felt jittery, as if your muscles were contracting more than they should have been. A fluttering was still present in your gut and chest.

“It sounds like a panic attack to me,” the doctor mused. “But the fact you fainted and have blurred vision is what is concerning me. Maybe a sudden change in blood pressure? I’d like to take blood samples and keep you in overnight.”

“Do you think it’s serious?” Lucas asked in concern.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your fingers gripping the sheets. Lucas and the doctor’s voices seemed to drift away as you felt the hair on your neck stand to attention, and subconsciously your teeth ground against one another.

Captain Hudson appeared at your bedside after he’d heard of what had happened. “Lieutenant,” he began. Then his suspicious gaze shot to Lucas, who was stood the other side of your bed. “Ensign, the doctor can do his job from here.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucas replied, venom dripping from his tone. He shot one last concerned and sad glance at you before disappearing.

“I want to keep her overnight for observation, Captain,” the doctor began. “The passing out and blurred vision is what’s concerning me.”

“Do what you need to, Doctor. I just want my Lieutenant back in one piece,” Hudson said.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a spot of admiration for your captain. He may have been stern and abrupt, but he cared for his crew and looked after them well.

“I admired your actions today. It’s your integrity that I greatly appreciate. Get some rest,” Hudson said, shooting you a faint smile before walking out of the room.

The next half an hour was the doctor examining you. Eye test, hearing test, blood pressure, blood test and urine sample. Naturally your blood pressure was a little elevated due to the stressors on your body. The blood test would be ready the following morning; every aspect of your body’s function would be tested.

Lonnie came to visit shortly before the doctor was due to finish. “Do you want me to bring you anything?” she asked kindly. You asked for your journal and current novel you were reading.

By the time that it was half ten, you could feel fatigue setting in. Calm had come over you again, and you lay down, closing your eyes. Waves and the moon. Black sky and sparkling stars. Lucas holding you. They way it should have been. And as you drifted away into sleep, you never noticed one tear fall down your cheek.

As you ate breakfast the next morning in the Med Bay, the doctor began reading through your test results. He furrowed his eyebrows; the blood test showed normal activity for your immune system, sugar and lipids, but your hormone levels showed a significant drop in serotonin and high adrenaline levels. An unknown viral strain was present but its DNA did not match anything in the medical database.

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” he said. He pulled up a chair next to your bed.

“Morning, Doctor,” you replied, swallowing a mouthful of toast.

“I’ve looked over your blood test results this morning, and whilst most of it is normal, your blood is showing a dip in serotonin levels and an unknown viral toxin.”

“Virus?” you asked, shocked. You had been under the impression that all this was was a panic attack induced by stress.

“A panic attack makes sense with the lowered levels of serotonin and elevated adrenaline. But this virus concerns me as I’m not sure if it was responsible for the symptoms in the first place.”

“I’ve suffered with anxiety for some years, Doctor. And I stopped taking medication for it when I enlisted at twenty-two.”

“I’d like to keep you here for another few hours and take regular blood samples. I intend to send them to the main lab at the UEO headquarters and see what their thoughts are. Maybe we can look at online counselling to help with the anxiety.”

Lucas visited you that morning before his shift. He stood at your bedside and smiled sadly. “How are you feeling?”

“A lot calmer but tired. The doctor says I have a virus which isn’t identified, and isn’t sure if it’s linked to my panic attack and passing out last night.”

“If you need anything at all, I’m here. Just ask.” He reached out and touched your hand, but you flinched and pulled away.

“Don’t!” you said sternly.

“You’re letting Captain Hudson dictate our lives!” Lucas hissed.

Your heart began to pound again and the sharp pains built, radiating through your chest like forks of electricity. You gasped, trying desperately to get your breath. “Get….out….” you were able to say.

“Ensign, please leave,” the doctor ordered.

Later that morning and Lucas was pulled into Captain Hudson’s quarters. Lucas, as usual, stood with his jaw clenched and his eyes glaring in anger at the captain.

“You are not to visit her again, Ensign! Do I make myself clear?” Hudson boomed. “It’s funny how both attacks she’s suffered have been when in your company. Not only does she have more moral integrity than you and professionalism by requesting a transfer, but she’s fighting an unknown virus. I will not have you put more on her shoulders.”

“I’ve put nothing…”

“Enough!” Hudson shouted. “I’m thisclose,” he began, holding his forefinger and thumb close together for emphasis, “to shredding her transfer request and putting you aboard another vessel instead. Captain Bridger allowed you far too much freedom on this boat. You’ll learn to keep your mouth shut, follow orders and not back answer me. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucas growled.

“Good. Get out of my sight,” Hudson shot back.

You remained in the Med Bay for the rest of the day. Lonnie came to visit and brought you fresh underwear and toiletries to wash with. She stayed for a little while, comfortable in your bedside chair, talking about what had happened on the bridge that day. “Be glad that you can have a break,” she giggled. “It’s not right without you though.”

“I’m hoping to be back in a couple of days. The doctor wants me to rest and de-stress, which is easier said than done in this place, especially with Lucas’ constant sulking.” You sighed.

“Hey, I know you think the world of him, but you can’t let him keep putting on to you. He’s stressing you to the point of making you sick. I know you requested a transfer and it’s because of him. He still has a lot of growing up to do.”

“You’re right. He does.”

#seaquest #seaquest 2032 #seaquest dsv #fanfic #Lucas wolenczak #Lucas wolenczak x you #Lucas wolenczak x reader #Lucas wolenczak x fem!reader #captain Oliver hudson #lieutenant lonnie henderson #commander Jonathan ford #dagwood #Darwin the dolphin #lieutenant jj fredricks #lieutenant Tim o'neill #lieutenant James brody #Tony piccolo

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