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sukirichi · 4 years

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the morning after – gojo satoru ver!

warnings: slight dirty talk and suggestive content, like the yuuji one, nothing too explicit! Oh and a teasing, cheeky gojo :>

masterlist ! (photo not mine)

It doesn’t hit you until you’re whacked by an arm in the face. Literally.

You whine and push the foreign weight away that smushed your nose at the impact, less than pleased because you’re having the best of your life, but someone had to ruin it. Nevertheless, you refuse to open your eyes and settle into the warmth that encases you in that moment. It reminds you of your precious unicorn plushie you left back at your apartment; cuddly, precious, keeps the nightmares away, but the best part about this human teddy bear is that he’s all firm muscles and body heat instead of fur cotton.

Wait, what? Human?

It’s when you hear the man stirring above you with a husky groan that you freeze in your spot, eyes snapping wide open your vision blurs for a split second. The first thing you see is smooth skin and firm pecs, followed by a slender, strong neck and a sharp jawline – oh god.

So last night wasn’t a dream.

Clenching your teeth and even biting the inside of your cheeks to stop squealing – more out of embarrassment and shame than happiness, really – you slowly reach up between your squished bodies to pinch your cheeks, bringing blood and feeling back into them. No wonder you’ve slept so well last night, and as someone who prefers pulling an all-nighter until you pass out in the middle of an anime series, it’s quite rare to find a good eight hour sleep.

It’s not like you had much...activities performed that would take up too much energy. Until Gojo Satoru came, the teacher from the Tokyo school, and also the notoriously infamous “strongest jujutsu sorcerer.”

You’ve had a crush on him the moment you’ve started working as a teacher in the Kyoto school. Utahime, who was closer to him, was incredibly appalled when you told her one day about your raging crush on the white-haired man who looked absolutely breathtaking with his blindfold, but without them?

Just the thought of having seen them last night, when he was between your legs, no less, has you inwardly groaning and cringing so hard you feel so shameful that you can’t even look him in the eye. Satoru is fast asleep above you, one of his strong arms lazily draped over the curve of your waist and his fingers brushing against your bum. When you shift a little to give you both space, his fingers begin to hover dangerously close to a sensitive area and you let out a tiny squeak, muffling it with the back of your fist before he awakens.

This man had the Six Eyes – the last thing you wanted was for him to sense and notice the little things and wake up. No, you had to leave before he even gets the chance to move.

The chances of not waking him up was pretty slim, but you’ve always been proud of your sneaky movements that you try anyway. Fortunately, Satoru doesn’t seem to be a hardcore cuddler because he doesn’t pull you back when you finally slip past the sheets.

You freeze for a moment at the edge of the bed, still in disbelief that you actually slept with him. No, no, that’s wrong, you’d have slept with him anytime if he allowed it but – he actually slept with you. It’s not that you’re looking down on yourself because you’re also a special grade sorcerer and could stand your own ground confidently, but your powers when it comes to exorcising and your social skills are two different things that don’t even come close together.

You’re not worried that a special grade curse would kill you and take away your privilege of finishing that new manga you bought in your day off because you know you could handle it easily, but as a person, there’s a stark difference between you and Satoru.

True, he wasn’t exactly liked by everyone because he refused to be limited by rules and regulations, always claiming that one should not be hindered by the narrow-mindedness of the others, but it was something you really admired about him because you’re not like that. You’re old school, sticking by the book, much like his co-worker Nanami Kento who equally hates overtime, and while Gojo Satoru was loud and confident, you’re more of the person who stays by a corner during a party.

Which is exactly what happened last night at Utahime’s birthday party – aka the old wrinkly principal isn’t here so let’s get wasted type of party.

You’re not surprised that Gojo Satoru walked in, but when he did, you had to clutch your spirit water and drink it in haste because he’s got you feeling thirstier than you did last night – and you drink your water plenty. But how could you remain sane when he looked so gorgeous in just his uniform and his laughter has butterflies erupting in your stomach?

Truth was, you’re satisfied watching him from afar. It’s not like you ever plan on asking him out or being his friend because you’re sure Satoru has better things to do and prettier people to talk to, so when he sits next to you in the desolate leather couch, legs crossed over one another and his arm right behind you (although not touching, he respects your space) you nearly pass out.

One thing leads to another, and you find yourself writhing under his arms, shamelessly crying his name over and over again until the dead hours of the night that has his ego inflating.

You don’t remember how or exactly why it happened, but definitely, alcohol had to be involved. There’s no way Gojo Satoru would actually notice you, much less sleep with you, when he’s completely sober, which is why you scramble around the room with the blanket covering your bare body as you look for your discarded clothes.

If he wakes up and sees you, he’ll probably regret everything that happened last night, if he remembers any of it, anyway.

But you’re most definitely mostly sober through the whole thing, so you remember how good he was in making you feel like a goddess. The way he sucked on your neck, licking a stripe at your burning skin while his large hands groped your breasts possessively, all the while rutting in that perfect spot that has your eyes rolling at the back of your head with your nails running down his back – you shiver just thinking about it.

Gojo Satoru really has that effect on people.

You hide your flustered state and quickly pull on your undergarments, about to slip the sweater over your head, only to die on the inside because you realize you’re wearing those full cotton panties instead of sexy lingerie. With a groan, you fight back the urge to cry. But then again, who could blame yourself for not dressing sexily? It’s not like you had any idea that this would happen.

You’re halfway through your jeans when Gojo’s husky morning voice breaks through the silence. “Leaving already?” you hear him smile, although your back is turned to him, face completely morphed into terror. “Such a shame. I was actually thinking shower sex sounds nice – if you’re into that, of course.”

“Satoru,” you greet lamely with a bow, avoiding the way his stunning eyes raked over your form with an unreadable dark expression. “Uh, you’re awake, and...good morning, I guess.”

Gojo smirks at your flushed cheeks, and it takes everything not to stare at the way his biceps strain from the way he supports his head, hair sticking in every direction and looking absolutely sexy in the morning light. “Good morning to you too, Y/N,” your breath stifles, because he knows your name? “Although it would be an ever better morning if you weren’t such in a rush to leave,” he chuckles, “It makes me feel like maybe you regret what happened last night.”

Your head snaps up at his words as you shakily wiggle your arms, “No, that’s not true, I loved every second of it! It was...it was the best night of my life,” your cheeks tinge a shade darker when Gojo beams at your words, chest almost puffing out proudly. Shyly, you turn away from him and fiddle with the hem of your sweatshirt. “I just...I didn’t think you’d still want me here around, because you were drunk last night and all and I thought maybe you’ll regret it, which I don’t want to happen so yeah, I just thought I’d leave before I get to...” you clear your throat awkwardly, “...be rejected like that.”

“Y/N,” his voice falls an octave lower, the thoughts in your head growing so loud you don’t even hear that he’s already left the bed, and now he’s cradling your chin until you’re forced to witness the galaxies burning in his eyes. “You thought I was drunk last night and did it because I was just horny? That I would regret it and forget all about it?”

His proximity has your breath stuttering, your eyelashes slapping your cheeks as you blink rapidly. “Well, uhm, I’m not really your type, so I think it was safe to assume that.”

Gojo hums at your words, his calloused thumb running over your lips. A small smile flits across his face when he remembers how much of a good girl you were for him last night, obediently opening those lips up and letting him bask in the warmth of your wet cavern before swallowing all he has to give. Funnily enough, Gojo isn’t the best with his words, so he just tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before sighing.

“I wasn’t drunk,” he finally admits. The confession has you slipping from his grasp, but Gojo snakes his arm around the small of your back to pull you to him, the warmth of his bare skin seeping into your clothes. However, it’s nothing compared to the lust and adoration burning in his eyes – one you can’t properly fathom in this clouded state. “Tipsy, sure, but I assure you I was aware and sober for every little part,” his lips hover at your ear, one of his hands coming at the back of your neck to tilt your head to the side, granting him access to the hickeys he’d purposely left.

Just the sight of his markings on your perfect body has a tent growing in his pants. You feel his erection rub at the pad of your jeans, eliciting a small whine from you, and this makes Gojo resist the urge to bend you over right then and there. But he doesn’t do that, because he knows your body is too tired from his ministrations, and he’s nice enough to give you a break – even if that’s not exactly what your burning core wants at that moment.

“Like the way you clenched around my cock when I hit that sensitive spot of yours,” he laughs when you shiver at the way his breath tickles you, “Or how pretty you look when you cream around my cock, begging me to go harder because you can take it, and baby, I promise you, I loved it just as much as you did.”

Finally, Gojo pulls back, and he’s extremely satisfied when he sees how small and innocent you look just like that, as if he hadn’t just folded you in half to watch the way your pretty pussy welcome him and take him better than anyone else just hours ago.

“But,” he continues, “I think I enjoyed it a lot more, considering I’ve wanted to do that for such a long time now,” at his words, you furrow your brows, and that’s when he realizes his mistake. Gojo reverts back to his usual lighthearted self and fans his hand out almost comically with his hands on his hips. “I mean, not just the sex, though it is amazing, but having you close is what I meant. Like holding your hand or getting to kiss you,” he sighs dreamily as if you’re not in the same room as him.

“Uh,” you awkwardly begin, unsure of what to say. “Are you saying you like me?”

“Yeah,” he smirks, which shouldn’t have been such a sexy look on him, but because he’s Gojo, it was. “But Utahime said she’d cut my balls off if I even get near you. Thank goodness she was too drunk last night to ever see it, but I’m glad I talked to you. I’m just ashamed I’m only saying this after the sex but...would you like to go out with me?”

Thanks to his Six Eyes ability, Gojo is blessed with the privilege of seeing you malfunction before him as you try to find your words.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader imagines #gojo x reader smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader imagines #gojo satoru x reader imagines #gojo satoru imagines #jjk gojo satoru #gojo satoru fic #gojo x reader headcanon #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen smut

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dilucids · 3 years

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤLove in cameras ━━ Genshin idol! au

newbie! idol!reader collaborating on a photoshoot together with idol! genshin characters

includes beidou, rosaria, childe, zhongli, diluc and xiao

( back on that idol au grind. also, the sheer amount of 'male reader' shit on this app that involves incest makes me genuinely tear up and take a shot everytime i say 'shot', you'd be drunk enough to hook up with zhongli dragon form. )

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 BEIDOU ━━ UNCROWNED QUEEN OF THE OCEAN 〕

━━ one of the most nerve-wrecking things ever because she's simply so intimidating and good at what she does.

━━ you're literally shaking in your seat as she takes her solo shots, watching her lean on one leg, placing the other by her side, stretching her arms all the whilst making eye contact with the camera.

━━ she just looks so professional and you're afraid you won't be able to live up to her and ruin the entire shoot since even though you're both idols, she's been in more magazines as a senior group compared to you.

━━ when you switch for your solo shots, she seems to sense how nervous you were ( although you weren't really hiding it much with your shaky knees and annoying tapping your foot. )

━━ she places a hand on your shoulder and gives you a smile and a thumbs up, telling you you'll be okay.

━━ you realise she wasn't as menacing and stoic as she was in magazines and slightly relax.

━━ helps you relax by offering support behind the camera!!!

You lean sideways a little, allowing the thin material to fall off your shoulder a little as you glance back at the camera, lips slightly apart. Your stoic facade is broken almost immediately when you hear Beidou hollering and clapping in the background. You begin to laugh in suprised shock as the staff around the set follow her example, the shuttering of cameras now longer heard as it is replaced with clapping and whooping.

You grow a little embarrassed, glancing over at Beidou for help but she seems proud, stood there with hands on her hips and a satisfied grin. You realise she isn't going to help you out so you attempt to calm the set down with thanks and bows until you're continuing with the shoot.

━━ beidou has a very large presence, so it's very hard to have magnetism next to her but you somehow make it work.

━━ compared to your solo shots, your duo shots have a pirate/knight theme.

━━ with beidou in a pirate getup and you in a knight getup, it was obvious to see that this was some type of old ancient rivalry between the two groups and you two were meant to potray that anger and tension.

━━ due to you being new to this type of scene, she'll take the lead, making sure that her pose allowed you to fit in perfectly, whether it be far away, close, a sword to her throat, you splayed on the floor and her leaning in with her sword next to your head. ( thank god that shot was meant to focus on beidou cause with her that close to you, you couldn't keep a straight face. )

━━ of course even with such a theme, fan service is everything! so some of the poses are a little more touchy touchy and if she can tell you're nervous, will immediately lighten the mood and assure you you're doing well.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 ROSARIA ━━ THORNING BENEVOLENCE 〕

━━ like beidou, will naturally exude professionalism and skill.

━━ unlike beidou though, she'll probably ignore your nervousness or bluntly tell you to toughen up if you want to make it, it sounds harsh but you know it's her own way of advice giving.

━━ her poses are less showy than beidou, more elegant and graceful as she rests her hands on her waist or cross her legs over each other over the arm of the chair and look back at the camera.

━━ will watch you, probably assessing your style, as you take your solo shots and if she notices your embarrassment ( she definitely does ), well she doesn't stop.

━━ will somehow converse with the photographer about poses she thinks will bring out your potential and it works, she has an eye for these things apparently and a lot of photographers like her style of modelling.

As you step back, allowing the staff to move props around, you glance back at the director of the shoot and Rosaria stood before the screen, showing off the photos. They seem to be deep in conversation, the only giveaway about the tense conversation however was the director's furrowed eyebrows and lips pressed into a tight line, Rosaria had no expression on her face.

The director seems to give up after Rosaria says something, pointing at the screen with her arms crossed, walking away with a shake of his head albeit the smile of being challenged. You immediately look away when she peers up at you, catching your eyes for a split second; you knew she had been shamelessly staring at you but it was quite embarrassing to be caught yourself.

"Here we go," snaps you out of your embarrassment and you're back to sitting on a black throne lined with gold, posing for the shoot.

━━ it's awkward before the camera is on you two as you stand on the set but once the camera is on? you two flow so perfectly together.

━━ rosaria would allow you to take the reins, allowing you to do what you felt was natural and would simply follow. ( another one of her ways of easing newbies into the modelling scene. )

━━ if your pose is a little awkward though, she'd quietly tell you to move certain ways and try not to overpower you ( but if you were overpowered, that'd be your own fault and you should try harder. that's her motto. )

━━ it actually surprises you how good she looked with a spear in hand and how well it suited her.

━━ it was kinda nerve-wracking to be working with rosaria but you absolutely loved it and would kill to work with her and have her guidance again ( deffo should ask for her number for future guidance!! )

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 CHILDE ━━ 11TH FATUI HARBINGER 〕

━━ looks professional on camera but is surprisingly childlike off camera.

━━ why is his little brother on the set wearing a pj mask costume again? right, he had to pick him up from school earlier than usual cause teucer said he was sick and wanted childe to come so he got use his older brother's reputation to get closer to that female teacher he liked. as for the pj mask costume, he wanted to fit in with the shoot theme so the poor stylists had to pull out some slightly too large, dusty halloween costume they found somewhere for him. great.

━━ other than that, childe is great at what he does, amazing at facial expressions like *whistles*, terrifyingly good at making the expressions asked of him. ( can cry on command actually (( learnt to entertain his younger siblings. )) ).

━━ you're intimidated by him at first but when you guys are taking a small break between his shoot and yours, you get to see him play around with his teucer and oh my god.

━━ he's literally carrying teucer above his head, teucer posed as superman with one arm sticking out and the other on his hip as he carefully runs throughout the set.

━━ when it's actually your turn, he will secretly hype you up with teucer.

"Pretty," Teucer mutters under his breath as prop flower petals are being thrown up as you pose under them. Childe smiles a little as he ruffles his younger brother's hair, "isn't my partner the prettiest?"

You're oblivious to these comments, focusing on the camera that was following your every move but your eyes glance over to the two brothers ever so often, finding their closeness rather endearing.

"They're prettier and nicer than your last partner," Teucer huffs, thinking of the previous collaboration he had attended with another celebrity, although she was a little too flirty with Childe for Teucer's liking. "Momma said you have to find a good person, big bro" Teucer reminds aa Childe smiles amused. "Are they a good person?" Childe thrusts his thumb over in your direction.

Teucer hums, thinking carefully with his chin in hand before nodding, beaming at Childe. "I'm sure they'll fit in nicely with everyone!" Your future had just been planned and you had no say in it at all.

━━ as for duo shots, it's another enemies theme but it's more of an assassination theme with childe holding a bow, perched on a higher stage than you.

━━ took ten minutes for childe to figure out how to look good with a bow in hand, with an eye scrunched up like he was actually aiming at you. ( of course he wouldn't have succeeded if not for teucer shouting advice at him off set with his hands on his hips. )

━━ he swears he almost feels the adrenaline of the scene as if his life was actually on the line when you shoot him a glare like directed.

━━ you two get on pretty well off set as well! you joke around as props are being moved around or make up is being fixed for either of you.

━━ you feel bad when you actually stab him with the fake sword, but he plays through with it, acting like he was dying.

━━ play fighting with teucer as an evil overlord ( still wearing his pj mask costume ) mind controlling childe's lover ( you ) into thinking he was the enemy ( teucer came up with the plot ).

━━ slipped his number into your pocket as you two were posing.

━━ teucer also got to keep his pj mask costume!!

━━ posts a picture of you messing around with teucer on his instagram.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 ZHONGLI ━━ VAGO MUNDO 〕

━━ probably the most professional out of them all.

━━ his poses are quite simplistic as he models the suit, hand in his pocket, fixing a cuff link, checking the time, simply casting his gaze to the side but he still holds a very large presence on set.

━━ would calmly converse with you as if you two had been friends for a long time, with a small smile on his face.

━━ if he can tell you're nervous, he'll tell you small anecdotes about anything and everything. when it's your turn, he give your shoulder a small squeeze and nod at you.

━━ talks to the director about poses as well, has a keen eye about what prop should be used and the positioning of them; you're suprised he isn't the director of the shoot.

━━ when you thank him for his help on the sidelines, he'll shake his head and tell you it was due to your talent and that he was only creating opportunities for them to naturally shine.

━━ was literally made for the camera, just the way he poses, the way he holds himself; god, it would've been a crime if this man had never been placed front page of a magazine.

You're entraced by the way he moves━━ subtle ways, like placing one foot ahead of the other, a hand in his pocket, looking down at the watch on his wrist. He's amazing. You could watch him for ages; he was like a sculpture made by the Gods, their most prized possession. What else could explain his sharp jawline, the bangs framing his face, his long hair pulled back into a low ponytail?

"You're staring," a staff member nudges you with a small smile, you snap out of it right away, slightly embarrassed at being caught. She laughs however, waving you off, "it's okay, we were all like that at first." You nod awkwardly, her words not helping at easing the embarrassment filling you.

You're talking with a staff member when he comes striding towards you, appearing behind you and scaring off the makeup artist with a mere smile and gracing you with a hand on your shoulder. "You're up next, good luck."

━━ mentally prepare yourself to be within a five metre radius of this man for the next hour or so.

━━ whether you're weak to pretty faces or not, i assure you, this man will honestly be the death of you if your guard is down even the littlest bit.

━━ the theme of this shoot? ceo/secretary and it does make sense━━ no it would make sense, if you were the secretary, not the ceo. but apparently fans like this type of power dynamic ( assuming you're shorter than him ) and so for the future of your careers you persevere.

━━ zhongli stood clad in a suit, next to you with his hands behind his back and you sat down at a desk, eyebrows furrowed like you're examining paper work or zhongli pouring you a cup of tea. you're pretty sure this is some odd dream at this point.

━━ you only persevere until zhongli has to pose as if he was fixing your tie.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 DILUC RAGNVINDR ━━ DARKNIGHT HERO 〕

━━ intimidating. intimidating. intimidating.

━━ did you wrong god in some type of way in your past life because being watched so openly as you pose for the camera for such a man, naturally exerting power, with eyebrows furrowed was one of the most terrifying things ever.

━━ his poses are similar to zhongli's but he puts a little more back into it, dignified aura as he crosses his leg, or one hand holding his hair up into a high pony as the other is near his mouth, using his teeth to pull the bobble off his wrist.

━━ also more open to differing hairstyles! unlike zhongli who only keeps his hair in a low ponytail, diluc can comprise with a low pony, high pony or even a messy bun.

━━ good balance of praise and constructive criticism; will tell you if you're doing good but will also tell you if you could improve in certain areas or even help with poses.

━━ diluc has amazing chemistry with everyone, he fits naturally into other people's style of modelling and can alter himself or his partner to fit if necessary, he also has a large presence on camera and sometimes accidentally overtakes when he gets too into the shoot.

"Calm down," you step back in reflex when you hear Diluc's voice just behind you, "your nervousness is plastered all over your face." You make a sound of acknowledgement and bow your head, "just take a few breaths and imagine you're at home in your mirror bathroom." It scared you that he knew infront of your mirror bathroom, you were the most confident but thanks to his help, you were able to ease yourself into modelling.

"You did well," he smiles at you when you come off the set, patting you on the shoulder. You smile back, "thanks to your advice," you redirect the compliment back at him. The short interaction ends when you two have to change into your couple costume.

━━ unintended sexual tension 👫

━━ was supposed to be casual poses, really easy ones with you two sat on steps with a respective cigarette in hand as friends but somehow,,,,, you two looked like y'all had fucked a second before hopping onto the set.

━━ so, the director took the inherent sexual tension and put it into use; changing just seeming like you were smoke buddies into poses where you two leaning into the same flame to light up your cigarettes. ( close ups of you two staring into each other's eyes over the flame! )

━━ kept lesser tension packed photos though and the one above^^ just as a small treat for the fans.

━━ he definitely posted a picture of you ( tagged ) behind the scenes on his instagram with no caption though.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 XIAO ━━ CONQUEROR OF DEMONS 〕

━━ more reserved, if he has a problem with the way you do things, doesn't say anything and just makes a certain expression with his face.

━━ his poses vary, he's able to adapt to each and every theme that's given to him and usually plays it safe with poses. he's usually modelling for makeup brands so he's very good with close ups, or hand and face poses; also is very used to working with many people but often never attempts to befriend.

━━ if you initiate conversation, he'll use dry replies or even attempt to leg it out of the conversation, only because he's a little shy or doesn't really understand social rules after a while, he'll given into your conversations and try to reply normally.

━━ i feel like he has mints with him no matter where he goes so expect a "do you want a mint?" halfway into your conversation.

━━ definitely is trusted with the music that plays in the background as you guys work. xiao is literally globally known for having one of the best music tastes and often makes songs hit the 'top 100' even if it's been out for years.

━━ it takes him a little while to get used to a new partner so give him a few test shots to get your vibe checked and he'll adapt!

You try hard to ignore the song in the background, but it's stuck in your head. Watching Xiao placing his fingers gingerly on his face as he peers to the side, the camera zooming into his face, you tap your foot along to the beat━━ you've never heard this song before but it really suited your tastes.

"Excuse me," you call out to a staff member who was walking past, he stops and nods at you, pulling down his headphones, "do you know what song this is?" He shakes his head however, leaving you with disappointment but not before he tells you that this was Xiao's Spotify playlist. You nod and thank you, immediately finding Xiao on Spotify to see all his different playlists for different moods.

You never understood why fans chose to listen to their idol's playlist because some of their music tastes was just trash but Xiao had genuinely good taste and it kinda suprised you.

━━ close proximity poses since you two are modelling for a makeup brand; some shots are just headshots with you two practically sat ontop of each other.

━━ some poses are torso shots, where you're both holding the product. there was a pose where you got to act as if you were applying eyeliner onto xiao's eyes and there was definitely a period of time when xiao couldn't stop blushing.

━━ he absentmindedly hums the song in the background as you two wait on set for the director to finish their conversation with the photographer.

━━ posts a picture of himself that you took whilst he was asleep and tagged you before the photoshoot was released so fans started speculating the weirdest shit and he never bothered to clear it up, just waited until the photos were released and hoped someone in his fandom was smart enough to connect dots.

#genshin headcanons #genshin impact #genshin scenarios #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader #genshin beidou #genshin diluc #genshin childe #genshin zhongli #genshin rosaria #genshin xiao

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itsallyscorner · 4 years

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♥︎ The Struggles of Getting A Valentine

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!reader

Summary: The three times Peter tries to ask you to be his Valentine and the one time he successfully does.

Warnings: none. Just a lot of fluff. Peter being a simp, Bucky being the cutest bby ever, and Tony being a dad. This is long. Happy reading💞

(Source — Pinterest)

Attempt #1

Peter watched as you vigorously took down notes. From time to time your eyes would shift back up to the projected screen on the board. Your hair would graciously fall past your ear and to the front of your face, causing you to continuously tuck it behind your ear whenever it bothered you. He let out a dreamy sigh at the thought of running his fingers through your hair and tucking the loose strands behind your ear for you.

He wasn’t paying attention in class; he should have cared more about World War II, but you had his undivided attention without even trying. Besides, he could ask Steve for help if he ever needed it, he’s literally lived through part of World War II. Peter felt foolish as he stared at you, a lovestruck expression was on his face while he admired you from afar. You were just a few seats away from him. You were in the next row, two seats ahead of him. He was so hopelessly in love with you, his feelings for you were more than just a crush. He admired every little thing about you. From your kindness to how talented you were as an Avenger; you were the girl of his dreams.

Ms. Atwell’s voice faded in the background while his mind clouded with thoughts of you. Beside him was Ned, who was also taking notes while trying to get Peter to focus once again. When Ms. Atwell turned her back to the class, Ned roughly shoved Peter’s shoulder. The hearts in Peter’s eyes popped and the chorus of How Deep Is Your Love by The Bee Gees stopped playing in his head. He whipped around to look at Ned, annoyed that his friend took him out of his daydream.

“What?” Peter asks him through gritted teeth.

“Ms. Atwell already yelled at you twice yesterday for not paying attention in class, do you really want her to call you out again?” Ned whispered back harshly. Peter was one of the smartest dudes Ned has ever known, but sometimes he could be as dumb as a rock and as stubborn as a mule.

Peter shrugged him off, “She won’t notice.” He looked to the front to make sure Ms. Atwell’s back was still turned to the class, “I think I’m gonna ask (y/n) to be my valentine.”

Getting lured in with curiosity, Ned asks, “Don’t you guys see each other everyday? And do patrol together? How have you not asked her yet?”

“I don’t know—I couldn’t find the right time to.” Peter answered, turning his head back to the front when he sensed Ms. Atwell turn back to the class. She briefly mentions something about the Howlling Commandos and turns back around.

“When are you asking her?” He hears Ned whisper behind him. He leans back, face still towards the board, “Right now.”

Ned nods then takes a double take at the back of Peter’s head, “Now?!”

Peter rips the corner of the page his notebook was open to and began to sloppily scribble the words:

(Y/n), will you be my valentine?

Yes ⃞ No ⃞

— Peter :)

As childish as his note was, he believed that you would find the gesture cute. Little did he know that Ms. Atwell would too. While he excitedly folded the piece of paper, he had not realized that Ms. Atwell had stopped talking and was looking at him with that stern stare of hers. Cluelessly, Peter quietly giggles to himself and tapped MJ, who was in front of him. When she didn’t turn around, he looks up from the note to see Ms.Atwell hovering above his desk, arms crossed with an unamused look on her face.

Startled, Peter jumps in his seat, eyes wide and cheeks growing warm. He looks around the class to see everyone staring at him, including you. Although, you had that same unamused look on your face as Ms. Atwell. Like Ned, you also scolded Peter whenever he didn’t pay attention in class.

“Dumbass.” You mouthed at him shaking your head. A sheepish grin forms on his face as his eyes shift back to Ms. Atwell. Her red painted lips were in a thin line and her hand was held out at him.

“Give me the note, Mr. Parker”

Peter’s eyes widened even more, making him fear that they might pop out of their sockets, “NO—no, no, no. I—I can’t.”

“And why not?” She asks him in her posh accent.

“Uh—because..” Peter struggled to come up with an excuse. His eyes shifted between you and Ned, desperately asking for help. Ned shrugs in response.

“Just give it.” You mouth to him. He shakes his head at you furiously and was about to respond to Ms. Atwell, but the note was removed from his hands. Peter squeaks as he tries to take it back from his teacher but shoves himself back into his seat when Ms. Atwell glares at him. She opens the note, eyes skimming at the words written on the piece of paper. A small smirk grows on the older woman’s lips.

“P—please don’t read it out loud.” Peter pleadingly whispered to her. He leaned forward, “I’ll go to detention, I’ll even grade your papers for you—just please don’t read it out loud.”

You raise a brow at the brown haired boy, wondering what could have been written on that piece of paper that made him beg Ms. Atwell for detention to not read it. You shift your questioning gaze at Ned, who waves off your nonverbal question.

Ms. Atwell sighs, crumpling up the piece of paper, “Detention after school.”

“Yes.” He whispered to himself in victory, hands clasping together. “Thank you, thank you, Ms. Atwell.”

“I’m only letting this slide once. The next time I see you writing notes in my class, I’m reading it to everyone and calling home.” She warned pointing a finger at him. Peter nods eagerly, “Got it, Ms. Atwell.”

She returns back to her lesson while Peter shoved his face into his hands in embarrassment. A thin layer of sweat had formed on his forehead and his heart was pounding out of nervousness. He musters up the courage to look at you again.

Much to his surprise, you were already looking at him over your shoulder. He flashes you a shy smile to which you reciprocate with one of your own. You turn back around, resuming to take notes from the board. The smile on his face only grew wider as he stared down at his scribbled notebook, the image of you smiling at him stuck in his head.

Attempt #2

The next time Peter tried to ask you to be his valentine happened a few days after his first failed attempt. He was spending the weekend at the tower after Tony and Steve suggested that he should begin training with them more. Of course, he took their advice; this was an opportunity for him to improve on his skills and learn new things. But most importantly, he would get to see you everyday.

Peter was sat on the floor of the Avengers’ shared living room setting up Netflix on the giant flat screen attached to the gray wall. He had finished training an hour ago and was now going to have a movie night with you. You had also finished training the same time he did and suggested that the two of you should watch some new movie that came out on Netflix. He thought it was an amazing idea to have a movie night, obviously it was an amazing idea, you came up with it. He agreed willingly and insisted on grabbing food for you both. He swung from building to building until he ended up back in Queens at the entrance of Delmar’s. The two of you would go to the bodega everyday after school and pick up your usuals. Then Peter would swing you to the rooftop of some building and the two of you would eat before doing some patrol work around the city.

He pulled out your usual sandwiches from the plastic bag and placed them on the coffee table. To pair with the sandwiches, he also bought chips and two bottles of soda. He set up the coffee table and made it look neat. He wasn’t usually a perfectionist, but he felt the need to impress you. Did table or food presentation matter to you? Would you think he was sloppy if he carelessly placed the food on the table? Or maybe you’d think he was a neat freak from how neat and trim the food was laid out?

While you gathered extra pillows and blankets from your room, Peter continued to fidget with the food on the table. He moved the bottles of soda around too many times and even tilted the chips to make it look aesthetically pleasing. When he was content with how everything was organized, he glanced at the plastic bag. Along with the food, he had also bought a box of chocolates. The red heart shaped box caught his eyes and he felt his fingers inching closer to it. It was almost Valentine’s Day and he still hasn’t asked you to be his valentine. He felt a rush of adrenaline in his body when he took the box from the shelf and purchased it. Peter made the spontaneous decision that he was going to ask you to be his valentine during your movie night. He would place the box on top of your food and when you come out of your room, you would see the box and then he’ll finally get the chance to shoot his shot.

Peter gripped the red heart box and gingerly placed it on top of your chips. He eyed it nervously before shifting his attention back to the tv. He was searching for the movie you suggested on watching when Bucky walked into the living room. The two greeted each other quietly until Bucky caught sight of the box of chocolates.

“Are those chocolates? I haven’t seen them in these heart shaped boxes in forever.” Bucky reminisced, picking up the box and inspecting it. His eyes were filled with curiosity, “Woah, they make them look all flashy now. Back in the day, ours didn’t have bows or glitter on ‘em. It was just some picture.”

Peter found himself smiling at Bucky’s sudden interest in the box. “Did they come in different flavors back then, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky whips his head up to look at Peter, “No! They only had milk chocolate. They come in different flavors now? No way.” Bucky exclaimed, turning the box around to see all the flavors listed on the back. After seeing Bucky’s reaction to the chocolates, he wanted to just give them to Mr. Barnes. But if he gave them to Mr. Barnes, then he would have nothing to give you when he asks you to be his valentine. He didn’t necessarily need to give you anything to ask the question, but it would have made the gesture more sweet and somewhat romantic. Though, that smile on Bucky’s face was a rare sight.

Peter’s shoulders slumped against the couch he was leaning on. He mustered up a smile and told Bucky, “You can have it if you want.”

“Oh no, it’s fine, this is yours. I could ask Steve or Sam to buy me one at the stores.” Bucky waved him off, trying to hand the box back to Peter. Peter shook his head, making the brown curls on his head wiggle, “No, take it Mr. Barnes. (Y/n) and I already have plenty of junk food here. You know, with training and all, wouldn’t want all that work to go to waste just to eat a bunch of junk food.”

“Are you sure, kid?” Bucky asked still holding out the box at Peter.

Peter sent him a soft grin and motioned for him to take it, “Yeah go ahead, you’ll enjoy it more than us.”

Bucky’s grin widens and he holds the box of chocolates up to his chest, “Thanks Peter! You’re not as bad as Sam says you are.” With that, he turns around and walks back down the hall.

“Thanks?” Peter said, a brow raised at Bucky’s retreating body. You come around the corner with an arms full of blankets and pillows. Peter chuckles and gets up to help you.

“(Y/n), you didn’t have to get so many pillows.” He teased, taking a blanket and two pillows from you. You huffed and placed the items on the floor.

“I just want to make sure we’re comfortable, Pete. Comfort is important during movie nights.” You defended yourself.

As you set up the blankets and pillows you glance at Peter, “Bucky told me you gave him chocolate. That was sweet of you.” A tint of red forms on his fair cheeks.

“It was nothing. Apparently they didn’t have different kinds of chocolate back in the day. When I told him, his whole face lit up, it was probably the happiest I’ve ever seen Mr. Barnes.” He explained, sitting beside you on the floor.

You smile fondly at the boy next to you, he truly was the biggest sweetheart. “It’s not nothing. That probably made his day, Pete. We barely see Bucky smile.”

Peter hummed in response, too busy being mesmerized by the light in your eyes. He averts his gaze before you can catch him staring at your face.

Peter’s eyes land at the food on the table. His bottom lip pursed into a pout when he spotted a dent on the bag of chips created by the box of chocolates. The small dent taunted him and was only a reminder of how he should have been already popping the question. He mentally cursed at himself, he couldn’t help but become a perfectionist when it came to you. He couldn’t just ask you the question—you deserved a bouquet of flowers, boxes of chocolate, teddy bears—heck he’d give you the world without you even asking for it.

“Hey! I got you your favorite.” He sees you instantly perk up. That beautiful smile of yours takes over your features and the butterflies in his stomach came to life. He found himself reciprocating your smile.

“Thank you, Peter! You’re the best!” You squeal, pressing a light kiss on his cheek and throwing your arms around him. He was taken aback by the sudden form of affection. Shock was written on his face while his body was frozen. Meanwhile, you were already digging into your sandwich while he was still in his flustered state, processing what just happened.

Attempt #3

This had to be the perfect time to ask you, Peter thought to himself. The two of you were sat on the ledge of some random roof Peter swung you both onto. You were sat beside him, feet swinging back and forth while you looked down on the bright city. Your hands gripped onto the edge of the roof, your fingers brushing against Peter’s once in a while, making the both of you blush.

Wind gently breezed past you, causing strands of your hair to brush over your shoulder. He should have been patrolling the city, looking for anything out of the ordinary, but his eyes were glued to the side of your face. The lights from the city reflected on your features; giving your skin a warm glow and your eyes a sparkle. He thought you looked absolutely stunning.

“It’s not nice to stare.” You suddenly tease him. He’s been caught. His mouth was agape and he quickly turned his head away from you sputtering. You smirked to yourself knowing that his cheeks were turning bright red.

“Oh—um, I wasn’t—yeah, no, I’m sorry.” He muttered. His hand awkwardly scratched the back of his neck as he glanced at you. He was thankful that it was the night time, this would’ve been more embarrassing if you saw how red his cheeks were.

A playful smile was on your lips, “I’m playing, Peter. Is there something on my face?”

Besides beauty? No, there’s nothing on your face, was what he wanted to tell you.

“No! Your face is—fine.” He answered smiling nervously.

Wait, why would you say her face is just FINE? He thought to himself. He then continued to stutter out words, “I—I mean, your face is really pretty.”

You stared at him, amused at his flustered state. You always found his bashfulness adorable. He easily blushed at any compliment or kind of physical contact. You could nudge shoulders with him and his cheeks would instantly go red as a tomato. Even though he easily blushed, he was the sweetest person you knew. He cared about others around him, he had the kindest soul, and he knew how to treat a girl right. He was also a thief, because he stole your heart the moment you first laid eyes on him.

You giggle at him and bite your lip, “Thanks Pete. Your face is pretty too.”

“Thanks.” He breaths out. His inner voice then spoke, this is your chance idiot just ask her the damn question. Peter agreed with himself, this was the perfect moment. The moon shined in the night sky, the twinkling lights of the city set the mood, and the two of you were finally alone—this was perfect.

“Hey, (y/n)?” You turn your attention to him to see him fiddling with his fingers.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

You laugh, “You just did, twice, but yeah, shoot.” Your joke seemed to loosen him up because it got him to chuckle.

He eyes your hand before grabbing it. He fumbles with your fingers until you decide to help him out and interlock them together. You see him smile at your fingers.

His thumb rubs the back of your hand, “Well, I’ve been trying to ask you this for a long time now. People just keep getting in the way of all my plans. Uh—I was wondering, only if you want to, if you want to be my—“

A shrill scream interrupts Peter. He clenches his jaw, hanging his head down in defeat. You squeeze his hand, catching his attention. The adorable pout was on his lips again and you were tempted to kiss it away.

You flash him an apologetic smile, “We should check on that.”

“Yeah, we should.” Peter grunted, taking his mask and shoving it on. With the hand that was still holding yours, he helps you up from the ledge.

You wrap your arms around his neck while one of his hands rest on the small of your back. He checks to see if his web shooters are on properly and pulls you closer to his chest, “You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s get ‘em.”

Success

It was only a night away until Valentine’s Day and Peter still hasn’t asked you to be his valentine. His heart felt heavy when you didn’t walk through the doors of your shared first period class. You must’ve been running late, he remember thinking to himself. He waited to see you at fourth period, but to his dismay, you were still not there. During lunch, he kept to himself and picked at his food while he worried about you. Asking you to be his Valentine was long forgotten, now he was wondering why you didn’t show up to school. Were you sick? What if you were in danger? Was there an invasion at the tower? Maybe you were on a mission? But that didn’t make sense, since you’d usually tell him you had a mission before hand. His entire day was spent thinking of reasons why you weren’t at school.

The second the bell rung, he rushed out of the school, leaving behind a concerned Ned. He sprinted to the train, then stopped by Delmar’s to get your usual order and another box of chocolates. He shoved the items into his book bag and swung his way to the tower. He greeted the receptionist and squeezed his way into an elevator. When he landed on the Avengers’ floor, he saw Sam, Tony, and Rhodey at the kitchen.

“Hey kid! How was school? Educational?” Tony greeted him, ruffling his hair as he passed by.

“Uh, yeah.” He answered, not bothering to actually answer Tony’s question. “Where’s (y/n)?” He asked them looking around the floor. Sam and Rhodey share a look at the boy’s eagerness.

“A mission came up. She’s out with Nat, Wanda, and Steve.” Sam answered, taking a sip out his mug.

Peter’s shoulders sag, “Do you know when they’re coming back?”

Rhodey glances at the time, “Not till tonight.” Peter curses to himself. Tony raised a brow at the boy, “Why are you so desperate to see (y/n)?”

“I’m not desperate!” Peter weakly defended himself. “I just—I had to ask her a question before tomorrow.”

Tony smirks at Peter, “It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow.” Peter sighs and tosses his bag onto the floor. He pulls out one of the stools at the counter and shoves himself to sit on it.

“Exactly.”

“So you finally grew the balls to ask (y/n) out? About time, I was getting tired of seeing the two of you make puppy eyes at each other from across the room.” Sam snickered. Rhodey nodded, agreeing with Sam.

“We don’t make puppy eyes at each other.” Peter grumbled crossing his arms. Tony leans on the counter across from Peter, “Did you get her anything?”

“I got her usual sandwich from Delmar’s and a box of chocolates. I was gonna ask her to hang out in the garden and we’d eat our sandwiches there, then I would’ve asked her to be my Valentine.” Peter explained to the three men.

“You got her a sandwich and a box of chocolates?” Rhodey asked him.

Peter shrugged, “It’s all I could afford! I don’t get any money from being Spider-Man.”

Tony felt bad for Peter. He saw how the two of you interacted; bright smiles and attached at the hip. You guys obviously liked each other, but were too chicken to admit it. This was the exact push you both needed to admit those feelings. Tony patted down his pockets until he felt his wallet.

“I don’t trust you with my card, so here’s a hundred.” Tony slides the bill across the counter to Peter. The boy’s brows knitted together, “For what?”

Tony motions to the elevator, “Go and get your girl some flowers or something, I don’t know. You’ve got time before she gets here.”

“What? Mr. Stark I can’t take your money.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Kid, you’ve been making heart eyes at this girl since the moment you first saw her. Now take the damn money and make this a memorable Valentine’s Day for her.”

Peter takes the bill and shoves it into his pocket, he stumbles out the chair and slings his bag over his shoulder. “Thank you, Mr. Stark, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” He surprises Tony with a hug before running out of the kitchen.

Peter ended up at the nearest Walgreens. He went all out with the gifts, that he needed two baskets to hold his items at the store. When he got back to the tower he headed straight to your room. He wasted no time in decorating your room. He hung up stringed lights with little heart lanterns attached to them on all four of your walls. He got a few stuffed animals and a giant squishmallow. He laid those things out on your bed paired with some of your favorite candies. He also got that lip balm you’re always raving about, fuzzy socks, and a scented candle. The last thing he got, that he knew you would enjoy, was a Harry Potter Lego set. It was only a small set, but he knew you’d like it nonetheless. You’ve always told him that you wanted to build a Lego set with him and now he was going to make that happen.

He stood in the middle of your room admiring his work. Everything was set perfectly and he was proud of his decorating skills. A knock was heard on the door, making him rush to grab the bouquet of roses on your desk.

“Um, COME IN!” He yelled, fixing his hair and standing straight with the flowers to his chest. The door opens to only reveal Mr. Stark.

“Hey—wow.” Tony observered your room, surprised at how it looked. He turned to Peter and gesture to the roses, “Listen Pete, I appreciate the gesture but I’m a married man.” He raises his ring finger for show, snickering at his own joke.

“Mr. Stark.” Peter whined setting the roses on your bed.

“What? I just came in here to tell you that they’re landing in a few minutes. I got your sandwiches out the fridge and sparkling apple cider for you guys.” Tony hands the items to Peter and two champagne glasses.

“Oh, thanks Mr. Stark.” Tony waves him off, “Don’t tell the others, but you’re both my favorites in this building.” The smile on Peter’s face widens.

“I’ll get outta your hair. Good job on the room by the way, good luck!” Tony leaves the room and shuts the door behind him. Peter sets the sandwiches on your desk and takes the roses again. If Mr. Stark liked how your room was decorated then so will you, hopefully. He sits on your chair and waits for you to come through the door. He waits for a few more minutes until he distinctly hears your voice from behind the door.

He gets up again and fixes his hair and clothes. His heart skips a beat when the handle of your door twisted. The door opens painfully slow till it finally revealed you behind it. You stumble in shock once you enter your room.

“Hi.” He breathes out, hands tightening around the stems of the roses.

“Hey.” You greet him shutting the door behind you. Peter scanned your body, not to ogle at you in your suit, but to check if you had any injuries. You walk towards him and stop when you’re just inches away from him.

“How was the mission? Are you hurt?” He questions you. You fondly shake your head at him, a soft smile gracing your lips. “It was good, we were just gathering intel, nothing too hectic.” You reassure him. Peter nods in response while your eyes dance around the room.

“What’s all this, Pete?” You ask him, a playful glint in your eyes. Peter swallows nervously and offers you the flowers. You quietly thank him, admiring the red and pink flowers.

“Well, remember that one night during patrol?”

“Yes, I do. You had a question for me.”

“Yeah—um I’m gonna ask you that question right now.” Peter explains, fiddling with his hands.

“Okay. But are the heart lights supposed to be a hint because I kinda have a feeling I already know what you want to ask me?” You take one of his hands and interlock it with yours. Peter eases up and chuckles bashfully, swinging your hands from side to side.

“I’ve been trying to ask you this for weeks now and every time people would get in the way of me asking you. I wanted it to be perfect and everything—because you’re perfect. And you deserve something romantic and extravagant for Valentine’s Day. I was gonna give you a sandwich and a box of chocolates; because it’s what I can get with my money. Then Mr. Rhodey called me out so Mr. Stark gave me money and—“ He was in the middle of explaining when you interjected.

“Peter, you’re rambling.” You giggle squeezing his hand.

“I know, I’m nervous, I’m sorry.” He apologized blushing. You shook your head and pulled him closer to you, “You don’t need to be nervous, just ask me the question, Pete.”

He looks down at you, gazing into your eyes, “(Y/n), will you be my Valentine?”

You beam up at him, “I would love to be your Valentine, Peter Parker.”

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker fluff #peter parker oneshot #peter parker headcanon #Peter Parker #Tom Holland #Tom Holland x reader #tom holland imagine

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wintermelonbear · 3 years

Text

Artistry

Pairing: Damian Al-Ghul Wayne/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Trope/s: Childhood Friends, No Powers AU

Summary: A story in which two seemingly dissimilar eight-year-olds build bonds through their love for martial arts. Written for the MGI Trope Tussle 2021.

Words: 4808

Damian and Marinette first met when they were 8 at his mother’s Wushu studio. At first glance they were an unlikely duo, before meeting in martial arts class their social circles ran entirely parallel with one another with Damian attending a private school that was a feeder for Gotham academy and Marinette attending a public elementary local to her, but they truly brought out the best in each other.

Damian had grown up inside his mother’s studio, working day in and day out from the tender age of 3 to improve his weaponry and martial arts skill. His mother and father, divorced but trying their best to co-parent for his sake, each preached to him about the importance of self-discipline and concentration. When his mother and her father, Ras himself a master martial artist, had competed in Wushu they were national champions. As a third-generation practitioner of Wushu, Damian had a lot riding on his shoulders.

Marinette’s mother had practiced Wushu as a child in China. When she first arrived in France she found herself disappointed that there were no local Chinese martial arts centers, let alone Wushu training centers. Sabine always thought it would be a passion she could pass down to her future child, but there was only so much she could teach on her own. However, as fate would have it, after a falling out with Tom’s father Roland the Dupain-Chengs found themselves in a city not too far from Gotham, New Jersey. Sabine was pleasantly surprised to find that the martial arts scene was much more alive there than it had been in Paris. However, between the bakery and her young daughter Sabine had little time to spend practicing martial arts. It wasn’t until Marinette’s kindergarten teacher suggested that Marinette be enrolled in a sport to better her hand-eye coordination that Sabine finally put her daughter into formal martial arts courses.

At first, everything was fine until it became apparent that Marinette was progressing much faster than her peers, despite her typical clumsiness she was surprisingly adept at martial arts. Sabine wasn’t entirely surprised as while Wushu was difficult to teach within the confined space they had at home, she still took the time to practice Tai Chi with her daughter on the weekends, providing Marinette with martial arts fundamentals and self-discipline. With Marinette’s slight inclination for martial arts paired with her hard work she was outperforming her classmates and even some of the older kids at the studio she went to. Eventually, Marinette found herself ostracized by her peers, but her teachers at the studio refused to advance her because they had an in-house rule where children could not be advanced more than two years past their age group. Tom and Sabine knew that pulling Marinette out of the sport entirely was off the table, the pure joy that spread across her face every time she mastered a new trick was proof enough that she was in love with the sport. So they set off to find a new studio to train at, where Marinette’s needs as a budding martial artist would be met. After looking around for a while, they decided to give Talia’s Wushu academy a try despite it being a little over a 30-minute drive from their house.

In regards to the first year of their friendship, Marinette would describe it as very professional, and almost nothing more. It took a while for Damian to become more cordial with her. When asked, Marinette would say “Damian didn’t like me, but he tolerated me enough as a partner because there was only so much practice he could have done alone.”

At first, Damian did not like Marinette at all, in fact, maybe he even hated her. When he first met her, Damian thought she was like every other “talented” kid that came into his mother’s studio, only to realize talent alone would get you nowhere in the sport of Wushu. On her first day, she immediately took up the spot next to him at the front and center of the class and offered him a warm smile, “Hello my name is Marinette, I’m new here.” Damian returned her greeting with a harsh tut of his tongue and the turn of his head, he was there to train, not to make friends. Marinette’s expression was aghast, but she quickly recovered and mumbled a soft “okay not talkative then…this is going great….” Damian suppressed an eye roll, simply because he knew his mother would not tolerate that in her classroom.

Against every one of Damian’s expectations, Marinette proved herself to be a hard-working individual. Eventually, after seeing her work on her technique and tricks after class during open gym hours, seeing that she wasn’t relying purely on natural ability and truly was putting in the effort to become a better martial artist, he began to tolerate her. The first time he returned her daily “Hello” with the nod of his head Marinette’s facial expression went from neutral to shocked to absolutely beaming. Damian simply raised his eyebrow and continued with his pre-class warmup.

Over time Marinette had grown a deep respect for Damian; she wished he was a bit friendlier, but despite their rough start Marinette realized early on that, while gruff and unfriendly, Damian was kind in his own way. He always pointed out when someone’s technique was wrong so that they wouldn’t hurt themselves, he always helped bandage someone up when they were hurt, and he always stayed after class to help his mom clean up. Most people would think he did it out of obligation or his mother’s demands, but Marinette loves people watching, and even after just a few months Marinette has observed that Talia would rather Damian use the time to better himself and will insist that she, or one of their workers, handle the menial tasks.

It was not until Damian saw Marinette work through her struggles that he gained respect for her. While Wushu is a largely performative sport where everyone’s moves are choreographed, Talia wanted to ensure everyone was also learning basic self-defense resulting in regularly held sparring sessions at the end of class. Marinette was a great performer, she was highly expressive and could easily recall choreography, but she had minimal exposure to actual sparring and her reflexes were not as sharp and trained like the others. She managed to win against her opponents in the first few classes by utilizing her creativity, but eventually, her lack of experience caught up with her and in her third month at the studio, she began her losing streak. Looking at her lose to her opponents time and time again he couldn’t help but wonder to himself, “will you still be here tomorrow?” Growing up in the studio, Damian knew that most of the people who were considered to be “gifted” had a tendency to drop out the moment things no longer came naturally to them, they grew frustrated with themselves and then with the sport. At this point, he figured he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Instead, the stage was set for her to become the most prevalent figure in his life.

Despite being in the same classes for over 3 months Damian and Marinette had never sparred. It was actually quite odd that they hadn’t yet sparred, the pairings for the most part were random. Talia reasoned that with the right circumstances even someone who seems weak could win; it was important to never underestimate an opponent and lower your guard. After bowing to one another their eyes met. If you asked them as adults they would unabashedly say that they love the other’s eyes, it was like staring at the calm before a storm. Their eyes were clear, fierce, and piercing. Despite being clearly disadvantaged Marinette showed no fear. She met his first few strikes blow for blow and even managed to evade a few of his strikes with a few unique tumbling passes – something Damian noted that she excelled in. He could tell she has been studying him, observing his strike patterns from his previous matches. Rather than reacting to his strikes, she was anticipating them – a smart move considering her reflexes were lacking. Unfortunately for Marinette, this meant that one unanticipated fake was all it took to defeat her.

That night during open gym hours Marinette approached Damian on her own for the first time. “There is only so much I can practice on my own, please train with me.”

“Why would I do that?” Damian held his face firm, his mouth in a thin line and his eyebrow slightly quirked.

Marinette’s eyes steeled over with conviction. “Did you know that every time you get up from xie bu you duck your chin down in your struggle to regain balance? It’s obvious you’re trying to shift your center of gravity. Instead, try leaning on your front leg from the beginning. The first few times you try this method, you should put a ball between your chin and neck to keep your head held up until you get used to it.”

“How did you–?”

“Notice? I love observing others, I can help you. There’s only so much we can practice on our own. I need help with my reflexes and you need someone who can review your performances. We can’t do this alone. You don’t have to like me, you just have to work with me. What do you say? Deal?”

“Tch. Deal.”

At first, their conversations mainly consisted of Marinette’s one-sided chatter during their warm-up, breaks, and cool-down stretches. It took a while for Marinette to get Damian to open up, but once she found the right topics she found that he was strongly opinionated about almost everything and shared quite a few hobbies with her. While Wushu was the common interest that brought them together, they were much more alike than they thought. They both enjoyed art, video games, and superhero shows to name a few common interests. Damian would say he would want to be a hero without any powers, someone who relies on their own skill to punish evil-doers. Marinette on the other hand would love to be a magical girl who could save others without causing too much damage. After hotly debating the topic of normal heroes and powered heroes, Damian and Marinette came to an agreement that both sides had their own set of struggles and perks.

Damian and Marinette found themselves spending more time with each other both inside and outside of the studio. After arguing over which type of paint was superior, Marinette was team watercolor because of its varied use, relative cheapness to oil paints, and blendability where Damian was a more traditional artist who believed that the blending capabilities of oil paint were just as good, if not better, and their longevity was worth the cost, the two decided to settle it with a paint off. Art sessions quickly became a biweekly tradition between the two, whenever the Gotham botanical garden would have a new exhibit Marinette would insist they go to sketch the flora. Damian quickly found that Marinette was almost as passionate about plants as he was about animals, with the way she flitted about the garden he couldn’t help but wonder if she had been something like a ladybug in her past life. There were also plenty of weekends spent sketching Damian’s pets, though Marinette would note that no drawings could capture what good boys Titus, Alfred the Cat, Jerry the Turkey, and Bat Cow were.

Together they found new ways to integrate Wushu into their hobbies, Marinette had plenty of friends at school who loved art and plenty of friends who did Wushu at the same center, but Damian was the only one she shared nearly all her passions with.

With their art, they began making flyers and posters for the studio, and banners to cheer on their classmates at competitions – Damian would argue he only did this because it would increase morale, which in turn would produce better results for the studio. Marinette struggled with the posters at first as a lot of proposed designs incorporated traditional Chinese characters, she couldn’t even write in Pinyin! Tom and Sabine had prioritized teaching Marinette about her French roots, in the event that one day they decided to move back to France, and neglected teaching her much about Chinese heritage. Marinette still learned basic conversational phrases: yes, no, please, thank you, and familial titles, but she was nowhere near conversational or fluent. After realizing Marinette did not know how to speak Mandarin Damian made it his personal goal to make her at least conversational before they would begin to travel internationally for competitions. Many of the major Wushu competitions took place in China and if Marinette was going to be his partner in the couples division he was going to make sure she was able to converse with any interviewers they may meet, and that if she were to end up lost – he swears Marinette was born without a sense of direction – that she could find her way back to him or their hotel. He hoped that while working on the banners he could work in a few lessons on traditional Chinese characters and simplified Chinese characters so that Marinette could at least read signs. Apart from art, reenacting scenes from video game cutscenes and superhero movies became one of their favorite activities, it became a way to train while still having plenty of fun. Sometimes after mastering a new move-in Ultimate Mecha Strike, they would break out the crash mats to test if the moves in the game were actually physically possible.

Even the hobbies Damian didn’t share with Marinette he was willing to partake in, and the fact that he was trying meant the world to Marinette. Damian was rarely physically affectionate in the first few years of their friendship, and it was even rarer for him to vocalize his emotions, and so Marinette quickly learned that Damian had a tendency to express himself through his actions. A lot of people failed to see how warm and loving Damian truly was, but Marinette saw it in how he interacted with everyone. For example, when Damian’s eldest brother opened up an acrobatics and gymnastics center Damian immediately volunteered to design and paint a mural on the outside that would more easily catch attention, Marinette watched him alter the design day and night and sort through hundreds of color palettes to ensure the pairing was just right. She saw his kindness through his interactions with his family and hers, the painting of her mom and dad baking, a gift from Damian for their 20th anniversary, hung up in the living room was more physical proof of it. When Marinette began sewing he proudly wore her designs and when she began to take commissions, he always kept her business card on his body in the event someone asked about his apparel.

One of Marinette’s fondest memories with Damian was when they decided to host a bake sale to offset the cost of international travel for the competition team. It was near the Mid-Autumn festival so Marinette and her parents decided to make mooncakes. Damian had some experience in the kitchen helping his mother make baozi and baklava, but he definitely wasn’t as experienced as Marinette who grew up in a bakery, yet he still came over to help them with the first few test batches and to help design packaging. Watching him carefully weigh out the ingredients her parents listed and chat about his favorite flavors with her parents in French filled her with so much warmth. The kitchen was filled with banter as a discourse between traditional baked mooncakes and skin mooncakes arose. Marinette and Sabine preferred snow skin mooncakes, the chewiness pairs well with pastes like red bean and taro, where Damian and Tom were strongly on the side of the more traditionally baked mooncake, arguing that the crumble of the pastry paired with fillings like salted egg and lotus paste was clearly superior. Marinette was unsurprised that Damian was strongly advocating for traditional flavors, but her father? The same man who made mustard macarons? It wasn’t until Marinette suggested thousand-layer mooncakes were simply croissants with a pasty filling that everyone else was willing to set aside their different preferences to unite against her. While the thousand layer mooncakes and traditional mooncakes baked, and the snow skin mooncakes steamed Marinette and Damian got to work on the packaging. In order to reduce cost, they had ordered plain packaging and planned to carve potato stamps with Mid-Autumn festival motifs: the moon, rabbits, flowers, fans, and lanterns. Despite having seen how proficient Damian was with a blade in training, Marinette was pleasantly surprised, if not downright awed, by Damian’s precision with a knife. By the time Marinette had finished carving out one flower Damian had finished three lantern carvings. After finishing stamping the final package Marinette daringly pressed the still paint-laden potato stamp onto Damian’s cheek which quickly devolved into a paint fight. The picture of Damian and Marinette covered head to two in paint was proudly pinned at the top of her corkboard, Marinette would never forget the sound of the kitchen filled with laughter that day.

Damian’s parents were extremely supportive of this arrangement. Talia thought it was a great opportunity, open gym hours were busy and she couldn’t give all her attention to Damian, having a training partner could really help him grow. If they got along well they could even enter paired events together! Bruce was enthralled that his son found someone to spend time with other than his friend Clark’s son, Jon. Jon and Damian were great friends, but Jon lived in Metropolis and so the boys rarely saw each other outside of business galas and Skype calls. It was nice knowing his son had someone he could spend time with in person, Bruce was concerned that Damian’s interpersonal growth would be stunted by his lack of interaction with his classmates at school. To see his son being a kid, laughing freely, filled him with great joy, he knew that being the son of a billionaire and a top-notch martial artist had put a lot of pressure on Damian’s shoulders, but he never knew what he could do to help his son. Seeing the walls in Damian’s room at the manor fill up with pictures of him and Marinette smiling, Damian smiling, made Bruce figure that everything was going to be okay.

Sabine and Tom grew to love Damian like their own son with the more time he spent at each other’s houses. At first, they were a bit skeptical, they didn’t quite understand what their daughter saw in the boy, but they trusted her judgment and boy are they glad they did. Damian was like a missing piece of their family, despite his hard exterior, the boy was extremely loyal and caring, they could always count on him to have Marinette’s back. Sabine especially had a soft spot for him after watching him correct Marinette’s brush strokes on the banners, teaching her the differences between what she wrote and what he was writing. The two watched their daughter give herself wholly to this boy, and in return, he gave himself back to her and that was all they could’ve ever wanted for Marinette, to love and be loved.

As they grew older they shared more than just common interests: their dreams, their fears, and the pressure they faced from their families. Marinette knew what she wanted for herself – something Damian was envious of. When they were 11 to offset the competition costs, Marinette’s mother began designing and sewing their competition outfits. Once Marinette saw what her mother was doing she wanted to help, and she ended up falling in love with fashion design. From the age of 13 and onward Marinette designed all of her own stage wear, as well as Damian’s. Sabine would joke that with such a talented daughter it’s a shame they didn’t stay in Paris. Damian wouldn’t admit it – Marinette would – but the thought of possibly never meeting Marinette made him feel uncomfortably empty; he wonders how he bore with that feeling before becoming close with Marinette. Damian wasn’t sure what he wanted for himself, he would love to take over his mother’s Wushu studio, maybe even expand it, but he was always raised with the expectation that one day he would inherit his father’s corporation. Despite loving both options, loving both his parents, there was also a part of him that wanted something that was completely Damian, he had already spent so much of his life living in the shadow of his parents. It wasn’t until high school that Damian opened up to Marinette about this, as the time to make decisions grew closer Damian naturally grew more anxious about his future. Marinette rarely gets the chance to comfort Damian, oftentimes he bottles his emotions up until they’re ready to burst, and even then Marinette has to slowly coax him into talking about them, even if it is with his brothers and not her, she just wants him to feel safe with his own emotions. The first time Damian opened up to her about the pressure he felt as his parent’s only biological son she immediately swept him into her arms, stroking his hair she began to tell him about how loved he was. She told him “Damian I love you, your family loves you, my family loves you. I just want you to know how loved you are. I speak not only for myself, but for everyone who loves you when I say this, do what makes you happy. Your parents will be happy as long as you are, they trust that they raised you to make good decisions for yourself. Even if you don’t know what it is that makes you happy yet, don’t be afraid to explore your options; I’ll be right here by your side and I’m going to support you no matter what. You’ve told me before that even if you inherit the studio Maya would co-own it with you, or even if you inherit your father’s business you would be working alongside your brothers. You are not alone, the world is not riding on solely your shoulders.” Damian was completely silent, if not for the wetness on her shoulder and his grip tightening around her, Marinette would figure he was unphased. Marinette has known that she loves this boy, far past the platonic love she just expressed, but for Damian, it was at this moment that he realized that not only was he loved, but he was in love with Marinette.

“WELCOME TO THE WORLD WUSHU CHAMPIONSHIPS 2019 LIVE FROM GOTHAM, NEW JERSEY” roared overhead on the speakers.

Damian and Marinette were standing in a hall away from the main room where other contestants were preparing themselves both appearance-wise and physically. Marinette herself was fixing the crown braid in her hair. The women’s event would take place in the morning to late afternoon, where the men’s event in the evening giving Damian ample time before he needs to warm up to support Marinette. He gave Marinette’s ensemble a once over and with his cheeks tinged red he muttered “I like your costume, you look really cute”, quickly averting his gaze.

Marinette immediately flushed, almost as red as the silken top that adorned her torso, and brought the hands that were adjusting her braids down to her hips and leaned forward, exclaiming in a hushed shout as to not disturb the other competitors warming up, “Damian Al-Ghul Wayne, are you making fun of me? I just want to make sure that any pictures taken do not make me look like a hot mess. Could you imagine what could happen if Audrey Bourgeois sees pictures of me completely frumpled looking and cancels my apprenticeship?? Oh my God and then Parson’s will find out and rescind me and then I won’t be able to visit you at NYU!” Marinette’s hands now rested on her cheeks smearing away her perfectly placed blush. How Marinette managed to go from disgruntled to spiraling in less than a minute is still a mystery that still eludes Damian after years of friendship, but it was his duty to calm her down. He understands her nerves, they had spent the last few years dominating the juniors division and as they entered the senior division there was a lot of pressure for them to win there too. Unfortunately, for every person who wanted them to win, another five were praying for them to slip up, but now is not the time to be overcome by nerves, her turn would come soon and she cannot afford to be overwhelmed by nerves.

Damian fully grasped her wrists pulling her hands away from her face, “Marinette, genuinely you look stunning”. After that comment, Damian noted to himself that it seems like there was no more need for the blush she applied anyways. With the soft tut of his tongue, he smoothed out the harsh lines of her smeared blush using the pad of his thumb. He whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, “Don’t worry too much about your hair and makeup, the most important thing is your form”. Marinette leaned into his touch and gave a small nod, calming down from her spiraling thoughts, he always knew how to ground her.

“Contestant number 54 you’re up next!”

“That’s you; you might want to fix up your makeup real quick, but everything is going to be fine.” He handed her a bag with her cosmetics and a wipe and quickly clapped his hands around her shoulders to guide her to the main stage so she could focus on herself.

Fixing her makeup Marinette shot him a cheeky grin, “wish me luck?”

“You don’t need luck. Marinette you have the skill, you know that.”

“Next up is Marinette Dupain-Cheng from New Jersey, USA! She is definitely a fan favorite to win today on the Women’s Taolu floor. She is internationally known for competing not only in the women’s division but also in the couples’ scene. She’s been training for the individual event from the age of six and for the partner event from the age of nine with her studio mate Damian Al-Ghul Wayne, who is predicted to win the Men’s Taolu event. While we do not have a couples’ Wushu competition here, since turning 18 they have been dominating the senior international couples’ Wushu scene and have gone undefeated.”

Taking off her team jacket, with a quick nod to her parents, Talia, and of course, Damian Marinette strode to the center stage. Damian would never grow sick of watching her transform on stage, it was strikingly similar to the magical girl shows she had been obsessed with as a child. The moment Marinette stepped onto the mat her whole demeanor changed. Her back straightened up, her head would be held high, and most of all, the look in her eyes was filled with inextinguishable fire.

By the end of the event after getting changed Marinette and Damian were making their way to his car. Once Damian turned 16 and got his license, it became a tradition for them to go out for a celebratory meal together without their parents. “Marinette!” Damian heard a voice call out, Agreste he noted in his head. Marinette had met Agreste and Tsurugi while vacationing in Paris. While they weren’t the worst, in fact, Tsurugi was typically pleasant company, Damian was in no mood to socialize after the several rounds of interviews he had to endure after winning first place in Men’s Taolu. Many of the interviewers failed to understand that while yes, he had more opportunities to train as he is a third-generation Wushu champion, it was his hard work that got him to where he was, not his genetics.

Seeing Damian continue on to his car, not wanting to keep him waiting, Marinette quickly bid them farewell with a promise to see them tomorrow. “Hey wait for me!” Marinette called out, running after Damian. Despite his pride usually preventing him from heeding to his peers’ commands, Damian stopped in his tracks, his breath shallow and wondering why Marinette’s voice still makes his heartthrob despite having heard it call out to him for over 10 years. Feeling her hands latch around his arm gave him a sense of comfort. Her grip was strong and steady, yet still gentle. He couldn’t help but envision his hand in hers instead of his arm. The bouquet and hand-painted card in his car were waiting to see if she felt the same.

#Maribat #MGI Trope Tussle 2021 #Daminette #Damian x Marinette #please send help idk how to write #if by any chance Issa is reading this ILY #Team Childhood Friends

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 6 - ao3 -

As Lao Nie had predicted, Lan Qiren won the music competition.

This by itself would not excuse him from punishment – disobedience was disobedience, regardless of the result – but Lan Qiren’s brother, proud of the glory that had accrued to their sect under his leadership, decided that it mitigated it somewhat, and as a result the imposition of the appropriate penalty was postponed until they returned to the Cloud Recesses. There was a strong implication that any future misbehavior during the trip would be added in when determining the extent of the punishment, but Lan Qiren didn’t care about that: with his brother’s word, however careless, overriding his teacher’s, he was finally allowed to go out to look around the Nightless City.

Of course, by now all the other disciples had settled firmly into their groups, so he was still alone - he opted not to mention that to his brother. Given how cautious his brother was being to make sure that the conference went well and without interruption, he knew it would invariably result in his either being forced into someone else’s group or to not go out, and he didn’t want either of those. Anyway, he could take precautions by himself: since he knew he was traveling alone, he would be careful to stay in the areas that were indicated as safe, although he thought happily to himself that soon he would be old enough to go wherever he wanted without concern – not that he especially longed to go to the districts full of brothels or drug dens, of course.

It was reasonable to be cautious for now, though, given his unfamiliarity with cities. He was as dazzled by the massive night market – as boisterous as any of the daytime markets – as any country yokel, and the items available for purchase were as many and varied as the people who came to the Nightless City to sell them. It was almost a pity to have to return to the Sun Palace the next day for the remaining events of the discussion conferences, largely academic discussions and skill exchanges, or the day after, to spectate on the other competitions, both the minor ones for things like calligraphy and mathematics and, more importantly, the second main event, showcasing skill in riding.

Lan Qiren wasn’t competing, of course, but he obediently showed up to observe – or, rather, to daydream about something more interesting while keeping his face carefully oriented towards the competition stage – and the second he could, he slipped away into the depths of the Sun Palace once the competition itself was over. Actually leaving entirely would be rude, of course, even if it would have been his real preference to return to the wonders of the city. Still, he would much rather walk through the halls than endure the inevitable rounds of mutual congratulations that invariably occurred during the celebration held after the discussion conference’s main competition. All those sect leaders buttering each other up…

There were times, he reflected, when he was very happy to have been born a younger son.

Lan Qiren did his best to avoid any places where people were gathered, turning back at once if he saw the rooms were occupied. There was no formal banquet tonight, to his relief – they’d all eaten while waiting for the competition to finish – but the socializing had started in earnest, and it felt like there were people everywhere. It would go on late into the night, with sect leaders toasting each other from the endless jars of wine that could be found everywhere, and there would be a thousand and one boring retellings of the same old stories everyone always told at these things.

Better to avoid people.

Certainly better to avoid people like Wen Ruohan, Lan Qiren thought, backing away from a room that appeared to be a small library, where the sect leader was standing and gazing out of the window, not far from a small table with two place settings already laid out. Its presence suggested a more private rendezvous was anticipated, and others more inclined to gossip than he might have chosen to stay and try to see if they could figure out who Wen Ruohan would be meeting – probably Lao Nie, if Lan Qiren had to guess, given the whole Hanhan situation – or possibly to try to form a further connection with the aloof and arrogant sect leader, but Lan Qiren kept his brother’s warnings in mind: Wen Ruohan was dangerous.

Anyway, he’d gotten into more than enough trouble for one trip.

After a little more searching, he found a small, secluded garden – quite possibly the very same one from a few days before, now that he thought about it, though he’d long lost any sense of direction he might have had – and settled down on the bench with a relieved sigh. The party was far too loud and too boisterous for his taste, with far too many people. He might long for adventure and new experiences, but it was the lonely road and quiet towns that called to him, and sometimes also the massive and faceless cities, not the full-of-themselves sect leaders, each one in love with their own voice, that seemed to pride themselves on talking at least once to everyone who attended.

At any rate, it wasn’t his problem. His brother had made clear that he didn’t want Lan Qiren to assist him in forming connections for the sect – assuming he even could, with his terrible social skills that mostly made his brother and most of his etiquette teachers want to forget he even existed – and that meant he was completely justified in hiding himself away here where no one would find him.

“I never got a chance to congratulate you on your victory,” a low voice said from behind him, and Lan Qiren started in sudden surprise, having not heard someone enter the room.

Though, he supposed as he rose to salute, he wouldn’t – the difference between his cultivation and Wen Ruohan’s was like night and day.

“Sect Leader Wen,” he said respectfully, keeping his head down. His brother had been especially clear that he wasn’t to cause trouble for this man in particular. Not like last time, even though Lan Qiren still wasn’t entirely clear on what it was that he was supposed to have done wrong previously. He was starting to think he’d never figure it out.

Wen Ruohan walked into the room, his pace as slow and graceful as it had been three years ago – the glide of a very self-assured predator that knew itself to be the unquestioned master of its domain, not only fearless but also smug in its self-evident superiority. The aura of power, his cultivation at a level that could scarcely be dreamed of by most people, draped around him like a gaudy cloak, meant to excite envy and fear in equal measure.

Lan Qiren had heard rumors that Wen Ruohan would sometimes use the sheer weight of his power to lock people into place, forcing them to their knees or backs on the floor in front of him, humiliating and tormenting them for his own amusement, but he didn’t feel anything like that. It was a display of power, yes, but no more so than the priceless spiritual gem that hung on Wen Ruohan’s forehead or the luxurious quality of his clothing, white and red flame, black belt and gauntlets, the finest fabrics and the best embroidery.

“I thought I saw you earlier,” Wen Ruohan remarked. “Or at least the hem of your robes – were you running away from me?”

Lan Qiren’s face suddenly felt hot with embarrassment. “No, of course not!”

That interpretation hadn’t even occurred to him. Had he really been rude? Should he have stopped to greet him properly? He hadn’t thought so, since he hadn’t even entered the room, but his instincts on such things had always been terrible…

And there was still his brother’s exhortation not to spend time with Wen Ruohan.

“Forgive my rudeness, Sect Leader Wen,” he said, dropping back down into a second low bow before rising again. “No slight was intended. I’m not supposed to be alone with other sect leaders.”

“No? And yet yesterday I recall seeing you sitting here with Sect Leader Nie.”

That was true.

What was he supposed to say to that? ‘Yes, but he’s nice’? ‘But I’ve known him for years’? ‘He’s one of our sect allies, you’re too dangerous’? ‘I was told to avoid you specifically’?

Lan Qiren might not be the best at social niceties, but even he knew he couldn’t say something like that.

His face must be demonstrating some degree of his panic, because Wen Ruohan chuckled.

“You can make it up by spending some time with me now, little Lan,” he said, waving a hand in forgiveness. “Come with me – the study is far more comfortable than this garden, especially at this time of year.”

Lan Qiren didn’t really have any knowledge of what the garden was like at this time as opposed to other times, being that this was his only visit so far to the Nightless City, but he had no reason to question Wen Ruohan’s judgment on the matter.

A quick mental review suggested that he had no choice but to comply. His brother had been emphatic that Lan Qiren wasn’t allowed to draw Wen Ruohan’s ire, even if it meant complying with his instructions as if Wen Ruohan were an elder of his own sect; moreover, refusing now would probably be impolitic, especially given the other man’s misinterpretation of his earlier avoidance. In short, despite his best efforts, Lan Qiren had clearly stumbled into a social trap of what he assumed must be his own making. It usually was, after all.

It’ll be another punishment for this, probably, he thought, resigned. He didn’t think that anyone was going to come get him out of this anytime soon, no matter what his brother had said, and he was bound to trip up and say something embarrassing sooner or later. At least there’s only this evening and then the closing ceremonies in the morning – the sooner we get home, the sooner discipline can be imposed and the entire fiasco put behind us.

“Of course, Sect Leader Wen,” he said, and belatedly noticed that some of his resignation had seeped into his voice. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I will join you.”

Wen Ruohan chuckled again. “Most people would say that they were pleased to join me,” he remarked, turning and leading the way, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. “But you don’t lie, do you? It’s one of your rules.”

Lan Qiren felt helpless, following a few steps behind him like a small fishing boat caught in the wake of a warship. “It is one of our rules,” he agreed, since saying that he was happy to join Wen Ruohan would in fact be a lie. “I try to obey them whenever possible.”

“You’ve gotten wiser since we last met. I think I recall that last time, you said always obey the rules?”

“Wisdom comes with age.”

“Is that flattery?”

“Respect for one’s elders.” Lan Qiren paused. “Also a rule.”

“Of course,” Wen Ruohan opened the door to the study that he had been in earlier, the small library with its single table and two settings and window showing the outdoors, and swept inside. “Tell me, then, as the expert in your rules – what rule is it that allows the Lan sect to develop such skilled politicians? One would assume that lying was a prerequisite.”

He doesn’t actually care about the rules, Lan Qiren tried to remind himself, his brother’s voice echoing in his ears. And yet what else could he possibly talk about with Wen Ruohan? It was a question the other man had posed directly, and he was supposed to be obedient, or at least try to be…and he really, truly enjoyed talking about the rules.

“There’s some debate on that subject,” he temporized, but Wen Ruohan arched an eyebrow and inclined his head in an invitation for him to continue. “Some posit that the rules regarding the obligations to honor one’s elders and protect one’s family require that the benefit of the sect take priority over other obligations. Others take the view that not lying is an obligation of general good conduct, which cannot be disregarded, but that it is mitigated by other rules – do not speak frivolous words, for instance.”

“I take it that you’re in the latter camp.”

Lan Qiren was, as it happened, but he wasn’t sure he should say so. After all, it was Wen Ruohan’s ancestor who had first raised up his family and started the tradition of the clan as the sect rather than schools as it had once been, and by all accounts the process of doing so had been a bloody one – what was that if not a belief that your family takes priority over the common good?

He couldn’t say that, though.

Speak meagerly, for excess words only bring harm.

“I am,” he finally said, since Wen Ruohan was still waiting for him to respond. “It is a matter of personal opinion.”

He bit his tongue to keep himself from continuing to talk. There were at least fifteen other points of interest that had come to mind at once - the rule against lying was one of the more debated ones, and of course there were all sorts of writings on the subject of balancing worldly concerns with philosophical ideals more generally. And it was so rare for someone to actually express interest in it!

Speak meagerly, he reminded himself desperately. Meagerly! Haven’t you done enough harm already?

“I see,” Wen Ruohan said. “Come, sit.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose on the sect leader’s time,” Lan Qiren protested automatically. “If you’re already expecting company…”

“Who says I am?”

Lan Qiren looked helplessly at the table. There were two place settings, as he’d briefly glimpsed earlier, and a few snacks laid out already, mostly grilled vegetables – it was perfect place for a private meeting to talk business with another sect leader, which Lan Qiren wasn’t, or else to sit and converse with an old friend, which Lan Qiren definitely wasn’t.

“The servants make it up that way preemptively,” Wen Ruohan said, and Lan Qiren twitched as he realized that the other man had come up behind him, standing a little too close. “They do it in all the rooms, in the event someone wishes to use it. There’s no one coming.”

For some reason, that sounded almost ominous.

Presumably just Lan Qiren’s bad social sense again. Such a display was likely nothing more than the Wen sect showing off yet again, this time in terms of their wealth and the number of servants.

And, well, if the table really had just been set out to be used, surely it would be wrong not to use it? There were rules about avoiding waste, too.

“In that case, I thank Sect Leader Wen for the honor of the invitation,” he said, and sat down properly, sweeping his sleeves back and arranging himself. That it got him a little further away from Wen Ruohan was not as much of a secondary consideration as it probably should have been. “Would you like me to serve tea?”

“I was thinking something stronger,” Wen Ruohan said, sitting down as well, and reaching for the jar already there. “Why not a toast to your family’s victory? A double victory, no less, with you taking first in music and your brother the same in riding. Most impressive.”

Lan Qiren hesitated. That was a very appropriate toast, complimentary – exactly within the boundaries of what an elder ought to say to a junior, really. And yet, at the same time…

“Sect Leader Wen,” he said uncomfortably as Wen Ruohan poured out a double helping in each bowl. It was clear liquor, not wine. “This one apologizes, but…I am not accustomed to drinking.”

“No?” Wen Ruohan was smiling, but when Lan Qiren obediently met his eyes, there seemed almost to be something dangerous about his expression.

“It’s not that I question the quality,” Lan Qiren said hastily. “It’s only – you see – alcohol is prohibited –”

It was one of the rules. Unfortunately, it was one of the more controversial ones: it was generally waived outside of the Cloud Recesses, given how often hospitality required some form of drinking, and there were still elders in the Lan sect who simply refused to obey it at all, citing its uncertain lineage.

They were not in the Cloud Recesses now.

Wen Ruohan started laughing. “Little Lan,” he said. “Are you saying you’ve never had wine before? Aren’t you sixteen already?”

Lan Qiren’s shoulders involuntarily rose to his ears. “I’ve had wine!”

But only peach blossom wine, or rose wine, served at weddings as a toast for good fortune – but he couldn’t admit to that, since that was all kid’s stuff, barely classified as alcohol. He’d never even tried Emperor’s Smile, for which Gusu was famed.

Wen Ruohan’s smirk suggested that he’d guessed the truth anyway.

“It’s only a toast,” he said instead of calling him out on it, picking up his own bowl. “Surely you wouldn’t reject my good faith?”

When it was put like that, of course, there was nothing to be done for it.

Do not draw his ire, his brother had counseled him. If he approaches you, respond gracefully and comply with his wishes until someone comes to recover you.

After all, Wen Ruohan was well known for being moody and unpredictable, for having all sorts of strange whims and no inclination to refrain from indulging himself in them. Lan Qiren had no idea why he might suddenly be inclined to desire Lan Qiren’s company, of all people, nor as to why he would insist on him drinking a toast – at most, he could only speculate that it amused Wen Ruohan to force him to do things with which he was visibly uncomfortable.

And yet, as the saying went, it was unwise to refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit. Wen Ruohan, as the host, as the elder, as the powerful, could very easily press the issue even more than he already was, escalating from an interpersonal discussion to an intersect issue.

And how could Lan Qiren explain that to his brother?

“Of course not,” Lan Qiren said, giving in and lifting the bowl. “Thank you for your toast, Sect Leader Wen.”

He put the bowl to his lips and drank.

The liquor tasted sharp in a way with which he was unfamiliar, he observed, curious despite himself at the new experience, and it burned his throat when he swallowed. The sensation was almost distinctly unpleasant, actually, and he had to force his gag reflex not to activate, tears coming to his eyes.

He wondered, briefly, why people inflicted such a thing on themselves.

And then, just as he was thinking that, the alcohol hit him all at once like a tidal wave, descending in an overwhelming crash that obliterated all his senses.

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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shinydelirium · 3 years

Text

Kiro’s 2021 Childhood Bday R&S Translation [CN]

***THIS POST CONTAINS CONTENT THAT HAS NOT BEEN RELEASED YET ON EN SERVER!!! DO NOT READ IF YOU WANT TO AVOID SPOILERS***

This is a translation from Kiro’s 2021 childhood birthday story released on CN server. I do not know any Chinese so this was done through Google Translate. I apologize for any errors or mistranslations. Without further ado, please continue on reading!!! :)

***WARNING: ANGST!!! THIS IS SUPPOSE TO BE A HAPPY DAY FOR KIRO!!! FIRST IT WAS S2 CH12 AND NOW THIS!?!?! WTH, PAPERGAMES!?!?!***

[Chapter 1]: Child Star’s Birthday

7:50 am California

After Kiro ran to the classroom and sat down, he laid his head directly on the table. “You can sleep for another ten minutes.” He whispered to himself in his heart.

He is too sleepy.

Ten hours ago, he finished the last set of filming, returned from the studio to the house the company set up for him in California, and then caught up on all the missing courses and homework. It was already 3 o’clock in the morning.

As if on cue, his stomach growled and Kiro lay helplessly on the table.

Since his debut, he has become more or less accustomed to the professionalism of being a “star” but at this time his stomach seems to be persistently singing against him. Kiro hesitated for a moment and then opened a pack of soda five minutes later.

Sweetness hits the tip of his tongue and brings a sense of satisfaction to his brain. He finally breathed a sigh of relief, put on his headphones and closed his eyes.

This is the first time in a while he has taken a break in the past few days.

Kiro took a deep breath quietly and buried his face deeper into his arms.

But he could still feel the gazes around him looking at him and the innocent discussions. Even the moment he walked into the classroom and sat down, the air was still for half a second.

He doesn’t like this kind of “special treatment” nor does he like how he is always affected by it.

Over the years, he thought that he should be used to being watched constantly, and perhaps he had to bear the pressure from other peers. But sure enough, in fact, there are still many times that he will be a little breathless.

Like now.

As a child star, there were two to three days a week that he where he would be absent from school. For Kiro, his classmates are indeed some distance away. Because of his repeated absence, the- so-called disparity was expected.

The reasons are not so complicated in the eyes of the children. At this age, the feeling of distance is often more sensitive than adults.

He also wants to try his best to build a good relationship with them. After all, having friends is a very happy thing.

As if he had finally made up his mind, Kiro took a deep breath, smoothed down messy hair, and raised his smiling face along with his shining blue eyes.

“Good morning, everyone, long time no see!” No one could possibly refuse such a warm and sincere greeting, let alone Kiro.

Even though some shy classmates nodded their heads and smiled with furtive gazes, the greeting initiated by Kiro still received many responses. Soon, a small circle formed around him. Everyone scrambled to ask which crew he went to during the period of “his absence”, which big star he saw, and what new information he gathered.

Suddenly, a boy with curly hair, leaned in and patted Kiro on the shoulder with great enthusiasm.

“Kiro! Happy birthday!”

As his high voice rang out, the children who got together cheered in unison.

“They are all embarrassed to come and tell you, so I said it! Happy birthday, future star.”

Kiro was taken aback.

“Thank you.”

Almost a subconscious reply.

But in that small world that only belonged to Kiro, another voice sounded different from what he was doing at this time.

“So, today is my birthday.”

[Chapter 2]: A Heart to Live Up To

“Kiro, great, you haven’t left yet!”

The lingering sound of the bell was still echoing. Kiro had just cleaned up and wanted to seize the rare free time to make up for a good night’s sleep, when he was suddenly stopped by the instructor who had rushed over. He excitedly grabbed Kiro’s hands, looking very surprised.

“Teacher, are you looking for me?”

“Yeah....” The teacher didn’t seem to know how to begin. Kiro responded sensibly, leading the question back at the end of the dialogue.

“If there is anything I need to do, you can just say it directly.”

After hearing this, the teacher nodded in relief, as if he had waited for a long time and quickly told the whole story.

Kiro understood what was going on.

It turned out that there was a very important violin competition for high school students today and the classmate of the classical music department who represented the school had a temporary accident and was unable to participate. He wanted Kiro to help fill in.

“...Okay, I will try my best. Thank you, teacher, for believing in me.”

Even though he was tired, he did not refuse this sudden request.

It’s not that he isn’t interested in the competition, nor is he absolutely confident in his skills, it’s just...

He hopes that he is perfect enough in the eyes of the teacher.

After all, at this critical time, the teacher thought of him and believed in him, and he must not fail this trust.

Thinking about this, Kiro clenched his teeth, swallowed a yawn that was ready to come out, and forced himself to wake up. After the teacher went back to the residence to fetch his violin, he hurried to the scene of the competition.

The site was set up in the observation deck of a building and under the transparent glass plank pathway, it is a panoramic view of the entire city.

At the time of arrival, many contestants were already busy making preparations. Kiro’s appearance undoubtedly caused quite a stir. The teacher proudly met the gazes and protected Kiro through the crowd to their waiting area.

Kiro quickly entered the waiting area. He opened the violin bag, skillfully tightened the bow, wiped the rosin, set the violin on his shoulder, and tuned the pegs carefully and intently.

Now that he is here, he must do his best. He cheered himself up and walked in the direction where he was ready to take the stage.

“Don’t worry, he is a little star. Even if he doesn’t do well, he has publicity and won’t make the school lose too badly.”

The voice in the corner made Kiro stop.

He didn’t listen. It seemed that there was another voice arguing with him, but that was not important. Kiro just returned to the waiting area quietly, waiting for the announcement from the competition organizer. He just lowered his head and stood there quietly.

At this time a man came over. He patted Kiro’s shoulder lightly and said mysteriously.

“Kiro, this is the first time we’ve met. I am a teacher in the classical music department.” He lowered his voice, “Actually, I don’t really like the format of music competitions. Music should be something to enjoy and convey emotions, not some sort of boring game. So don’t think of it as a competition, but as a special show. I’m looking forward to hearing the music you play. I heard that you play the violin very well. This is the first time I will hear your music.

After that, he mischievously gave Kiro a big pat on the back. *Took some liberties here with the translation*

Kiro stared at this somewhat holistic man and did not speak for a long time. A similar and familiar feeling came out of him.

The broadcast system called Kiro’s name.

“Don’t think about anything, just let the world hear your voice.”

[Chapter 3]: Happy Birthday Song

The competition ended smoothly.

Kiro didn’t remember the process of his performance. He only remembered the way the classical music department teacher exaggeratedly raised his hands to applaud him when he left the competition. His eyes were full of real and undisguised recognition and praise.

At the end of the competition, he politely declined the kindness of the teachers and left alone.

The California coast is like spring all year round and the fresh air is filled with a faint smell of saltwater. Kiro walked, suddenly a little at a loss.

For a moment he didn’t know where he should go or where he could go. He just carried his violin bag and walked alone on the streets of California aimlessly.

Until he passed by a family restaurant.

Such restaurants are very common in California. People choose outdoor dining areas to enjoy their food with nature.

As far as Kiro’s line of sight could see, a family sat around the table warmly. There are grandparents, parents, and even uncles and aunts. And the main star of this family banquet is obviously the little girl sitting in the middle wearing a birthday hat.

She sat happily in the center, closing her eyes in front of a huge cake.

Everyone’s face was filled with the look of joy as they watched her patiently and earnestly. No one interrupted the most solemn “ceremony” at this time.

The little girl closed her eyes for a long, long time. Maybe she had a lot of wishes that she wants to come true or maybe she is carefully telling some wish that she wants to come true the most.

After all, in the eyes of a child, the more important the wish, the more carefully it will be heard and realized.

Kiro stood there and looked at the little girl’s face quietly. He didn’t know what he was feeling right now. It seemed that something he wanted to show was turning upwards along his heart, as if he would shed tears in the next second.

He just stood there silently, watching her finally make her wish, blowing out the candles while her family sang “happy birthday.” Grabbing the balloons in her hand, the girl ran around in the open space, spinning her little skirt.

Then she saw Kiro and ran towards him happily without knowing what she was thinking.

“Prince!” She waved her little hand at Kiro and said loudly. Kiro was stunned. The little girl ran up to him and raised her head, “His Royal Highness, are you here to wish me a happy birthday, too?”

Kiro thought for a while, crouched down and touched the little girl’s head, “Although I am not a prince, I wish you a happy birthday!”

The little girl didn’t seem to understand what he meant. She carefully picked out a yellow one from her balloon stash and gave it to Kiro.

“Thank you for wishing me happiness, and I wish you happiness too. This is for you.”

The little girl happily ran back to her seat after speaking with him and the whole family nodded politely to him, seeming to express gratitude.

Kiro looked at the yellow balloon in his hand and walked away slowly.

He was walking on the road, the sun a little dazzling, the balloon floating gently while he hummed quietly.

“Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me~”

At this time, his phone chimed, alerting him to an email.

[Chapter 4]: Special Birthday Gift

It is an email from KEY.

Since he came to the United States, KEY has always liked to use this “fun” way to keep in touch with him in addition to the phone.

Kiro sat on the roadside steps, “If my agent sees me like this, he will definitely be angry.”

Kiro thought about it leisurely but didn’t have any plans to get up.

“Today is my birthday, so I call the shots!” *Took some liberties here*

First, he simply replied to the fan messages wishing him a happy birthday on social media and then concentrated on deciphering KEY’s information. It is a very interesting little program. The code attached to the email can be directly written to change the content of the email.

Kiro has always been happy with this special design. Under his operation, the information was quickly decoded.

“The place where you stay most often.”

Kiro read it out gently, and there was a pair of combined numbers at the same time.

He raised his head, as if thinking of something.

The dance studio was deserted at this time.

This was the exclusive training room given to him by the company. Kiro took out the key and walked in gently in the same way as he had been in class.

This is a special place for him.

The sun in the afternoon was particularly brilliant, flowing into the entire classroom through the floor-to-ceiling windows, which looked clean and sparkling. Kiro stood in front of a small cabinet in the dance studio.

He felt like an ordinary child at this moment, being guided to find the answer in the way he was most interested in. He was a little happy when he thought of this.

Kiro cautiously opened the cabinet and found a box inside. He took it out, and after opening it, it turned out to be an exquisite violin.

The little violin along with the sunlight filtering down onto the light brown amber, reflected in his eyes, as if it was shining.

At this time, the second email came. It was simple and there was no need for decoding.

“Happy birthday.” He seemed to hear KEY saying this to him.

Kiro couldn’t help thinking, when did KEY hide it here?

As if responding to his question, footsteps came from outside the door. Kiro’s heart beat a little fast, and he suddenly wondered if there would be another gift.

He opened the door in surprise, and an unceremonious man greeted him.

The man didn’t even take off his shoes. The exquisite black leather shoes stepped on the smooth floor, looking particularly dazzling.

Kiro felt his fingertips instantly chill, and he clenched his hands hard to keep his body from shaking.

“I really don’t know why I’m responsible for this kid.” The man gave him a look of disgust, “I won’t talk too much nonsense with you.”

“The higher ups are very dissatisfied with you.” Each word struck Kiro’s heart, “Don’t forget why you want to become a star.”

“In one month’s time,” he threw a document on the ground, “Finish it.”

“I don’t know what you have to look forward to.” The man walked in front of him to the center of the floor. Kiro lowered his head, and there were only footprints left in his field of vision that seemed to have been dyed black with thick ink, step by step, on a clean floor.

It seems that no matter how hard he tried, he can’t wipe off that trace.

“3684.” The man impatiently left his last words, “Don’t be too self-righteous. You really think you are worth something?”

[Chapter 5]: Things You Want To Protect

In the empty dance studio, the operating sound of the air humidifier hummed quietly.

Kiro didn’t know how long he had been standing there until the tingling sensation rushed to his legs and he instinctively moved forward slightly.

The towel and hairband hanging on the side of the cabinet came into view and he strode forward suddenly and threw them to the ground fiercely. ***The towel and hairband mentioned here are what Kiro uses during dance practice to wipe off/absorb sweat***

The world swallowed his outburst silently but indifferently, making him at this moment seem small and lonely.

In the end, he dragged his numb body and walked tiredly to the towel and hairband, as if all his strength had been drained and slowly knelt on the floor.

Just like the day when he first picked them.

Kiro stretched out his hand, slowly picked up the towel and hair band, and carefully hugged them in his arms. They were his only close friends, walking side by side. They were proof of his hard work. But if these proofs can be trampled so easily, then what was all his effort for?”

The edges of the cotton towel and hairbands were slightly deformed due to their repeated use. He swiped hard, remembering that he had almost thrown them away because of being used so many times.

And whenever he was about to throw them in the trash can, the soft texture in his hands was always quietly hot at that moment.

It seemed to be telling him, “Wait a minute. Hold on.”

It’s as if they were reminding him they were made in order to continued to be used.

He once heard others say that life will find a way out.

“Is this the way you worked hard to find?”

He stood foolishly in front of the trash can, looking at the towel and hairbands in his hands, muttering to himself.

Then he would stand there, talking endlessly for a while.

He thought that music was the way out for his life that was once empty.

It seemed that in the darkness where he still was, a gleaming light suddenly broke in. In that world, he can always shine with golden light and light up his life forever.

He can see himself.

But if he can’t maintain this purity, is he still worthy to live in this world that once taught him to redeem?

No.

Kiro raised his head and looked at himself in the mirror.

That world may be impure, but his dream is real, and his love is real. This was what he wanted to do as Kiro, and it was the only way out.

He is Kiro. Not 3684.

He rubbed the hair band firmly, then raised his hand to tie it on his head and smiled at himself in the mirror with encouragement and humbleness as he did before each practice.

“Today’s 2-hour dance training has not been completed yet.”

A dynamic rhythm sounded in the studio and the sound of footsteps rubbing on the floor resounded one after another. Kiro was practicing hard while telling himself in his heart.

“This is just another ordinary day, tomorrow will only be better.”

Two hours later, he turned off the music, bent over gasping, and abnormally did not stand up for a long, long time.

Finally, for what seemed like ages, he slowly straightened up, took out the violin from the bag on the floor, and sat by the window. The dark brown violin was lined with soft light under the sun and he held it as if being embraced.

“I will definitely protect you.”

Kiro’s eyes were soft, and his tone was gentle and firm.

The birds outside the window chirped and landed freely on the edge of the window.

“It’s great that you are free.”

Kiro smiled and gently extended his fingertips.

“I will be free too.”

[Chapter 6]: Free Sailing

A telephone ring broke the silence of the studio.

Kiro looked down at the phone. It was an unfamiliar number. Maybe it was from a fan somewhere, but he picked it up in a ghostly manner.

“Hello, this is PLANET Yacht Club, what can I do for you?”

Kiro was stunned. The person at the other end waited patiently for his silence. After a long time, he remembered that when he was resting on the sidewalk a while ago, he accidentally saw a magazine ad about yachts. He made a phone consultation.

However, because he needed to go to pratice immediately he asked the other party to contact him afterwards.

Unexpectedly, it happened to be today.

“I have read your information. I have some interest in your yachts. How can I learn more about it?”

“If this is the case, you can visit our terminal directly. On which day would you like to make an appointment?”

“Is today okay?”

When Kiro said it, he was also stunned. He felt his heart beating, but he didn’t know what this feeling represented.

“Of course, we will send the address to your phone later, looking forward to your visit.”

When Kiro saw that yacht, he decided to buy it.

It was lying quietly in the corner of the entire pier, unremarkable, but in the light of the surging tide, it instantly attracted Kiro’s eyes.

Of course, the salesman saw the young boy coming to the club, obviously looking a little bit awkward and seemed to be thinking about how to politely ask him to leave.

“I want that yacht.”

Kiro didn’t leave the yacht’s sight and took out his bank card in the salesman’s dumbfounded gaze.

The boat was moored by a small harbor where there was a little old port. This was the place he saw on the way to the club.

He asked the people of the club to help him get the boat here and said that in a few days, he would come again to ask about how to operate the yacht.

It was dusk now and there were no people, only him and his boat, listening to the ebb and flow together.

The half-round sunset has fallen below the sea level. The sun is golden and far away, warmly embracing the whole world.

The yacht hasn’t been decorated yet and looks a bit simple, but Kiro doesn’t care. He feels that he has seen the future of the ship.

This is his boat, he repeats this in his heart over and over, and in the future, there will be someone who is most special to him in this world who will share it with him.

Think of it as a birthday present for yourself even though there is no cake and no birthday song today.

But this is also good.

Kiro was lying on the small deck, seagulls flying non-stop. The sky was divided into half blue and half-yellow. The boat rose and fell with the tide. He opened his arms as if he could touch the sky.

Kiro suddenly felt that he could go anywhere.

Nothing can stop him.

[End]

65 notes · View notes

archonanqi · 4 years

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fragile as dust / 8 - the eleventh

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—

ch 8 | the eleventh

The rest of the day you spend running your fingers across the rows and rows of bound leather, taking inventory of all the words and knowledge and stories that were now at your fingertips — scurrying between the library and your room, arms full of books that caught your eye.

Zhongli watched you from his seat in the living room each time you passed, offering comments on various books that you had picked out. He seemed especially amused each time you ran past with a book regaling a legend of the Lord of Geo, though you couldn’t think of a reason why. By the time the sun had set, every surface of your room had been touched by a book or two.

You couldn’t wait to get started, already knew which ones you wanted to read first — there was one that promised the thrilling tale of Rex Lapis’ fight against the Beast of Nian that you were itching to devour. But before anything else, there was something you had to do, something you’d been planning as soon as you’d seen the “The Fine Art of Liyue Cuisine” title on the bookshelves.

Zhongli had been kind — beyond that, really — about your situation, but you hadn’t forgotten that you were meant to be here for his convenience. You had done nothing but cause him trouble so far, and it was your duty to make up for the expenses you’d cost him.

(Though really, and though you would never admit it, you couldn’t deny that on some very faint level, you wanted to hear praise, your name, anything come out in that rich, deep voice of his.)

So the next time Zhongli took his walk at Yujing Terrace, you reluctantly and politely declined his invitation. Minutes after his departure, you snuck out of the door, running as fast as you could towards the northern harbor. The recipe for the pen’cai stew had called for fish, but, as you grabbed handfuls of squid from the nearest unattended stall, you decided that seafood would have to do. Seafood was something that refined nobles like Zhongli ate, after all.

The tentacles felt disgusting in your pocket the entire way home, but it was fine. You could bear it for Zhongli. You couldn’t wait to imagine his surprise and delight.

Still, how odd that of all the ingredients, seafood was the only one you couldn’t find in Zhongli’s well-stocked refrigerator!

When you got home, you breathed a sigh of relief that Zhongli had not come home yet; you didn’t know what you would have said if he had caught you with a pocket full of squid. After changing, you cracked the recipe book open, staring at it. You’d chosen this recipe because its description had stated “ no refinement is needed for this dish ”, but still, some of these terms flew right over your head. What the fuck was a “julienne”?

Zhongli had used the stove several times, mostly to heat up leftovers from the abysmal amount of food he frequently bought, and it hadn’t seemed too hard at all for him. You would learn, just as you always did.

---

By the time Zhongli returned home, smoke was still billowing from the windows.

---

It was all a bit of a haze for you. The oil had started producing bright sparks (in your defense, how were you supposed to make sense of “ Heat Oil Until Hot ”??), and you knew enough about cooking at least to know that that wasn’t good.

You also thought you knew enough about cooking to know that embers had to be put out by water. The resulting bang had sent you rolling to the floor, and when you’d gotten back up, the curtains by the stove were ablaze

When Zhongli found you, you were frozen in fear — you had backup plans for if the food burnt, but this… this went a little past that.

From behind you, you heard a loud whoosh, felt the force of the earth knock into you. The room became enveloped briefly in a golden glow, and as you watched, the fire faded into embers, then smoke. A single glowing, red gem clattered to the ground, before dissipating with a loud hiss.

“H-how?” Was the first word out of your lips.

“When Geo reacts with—“ Zhongli shook his head, cutting his explanation short for the first time you’d heard, “never mind that. Are you alright? Can you move?”

You let him lead you outside, numbly, silently. Finally, out in the fresh morning air, he peered down at you. You searched his face for anger, but found only mild curiosity. “Now,” Zhongli said, sitting on the grass by your side, ”would you like to tell me what happened in there?”

The weight of what you’d done hit you like an angry boar. Treacherous tears gathering behind your eyes, you whispered “I’m so sorry,” barely able to get the apologies out fast enough. “I— I thought I would surprise you with breakfast, but— but the oil and the water...“ You trailed off when he raised his hand to cover his mouth — out of anger? No, there was a smile on his face. A smile!

“My my,” he mused, the smallest of smiles playing on his face. “Truly, you are a child of Liyue. Always trying new things, rushing in headstrong.” Zhongli shook his head wistfully. “It reminds me of myself, many years ago.”

“You?” You asked in disbelief, feeling your eyes widen. You hadn’t once seen him with so much a button out of place on his intricate coat; weren’t convinced he hadn’t come out of the womb drinking pu’er tea and writing poetry. “ You’ve set things on fire before, Mr. Zhongli?”

“More times than I can count,” his smile widened, and you felt like you had learned a secret of the Gods themselves. “But as I learned, so must you: you can always ask for help, Hansi.”

Suddenly, it didn’t feel like he was talking about cooking anymore. As always, his words were so slow, so deliberate that you scoured them for a hidden meaning. If you didn’t know better, you would be deathly sure that he knew of your difficulties with the Vision. And right now, sitting on the grass next to you after you had almost burned down his home, Zhongli had never felt more approachable. Maybe you could tell him, after all.

Starting a fire was one thing , you chided yourself. Lying about possessing the power of one of the Seven Archons is another.

“I will keep that in mind, Mr. Zhongli.” You said, instead, bowing your head a little. “Thank you for… not being mad.”

“It is I who should be thanking you for your thoughtfulness. And what is it that you were trying to cook for me, my dear?”

You almost jumped at that, feeling warm color blossoming within your cheeks. He probably called everyone that — he was so traditional, after all. “Seafood stew, Mr. Zhongli.”

Finally, to your utter confusion, Zhongli’s smile bloomed into a rich laugh. “Then I’m very sorry I missed it,” he chuckled. “Are culinary skills something you would like to learn, Hansi?”

“Yes,” you said, frustration and indignance culminating into determination. There wasn’t one thing you hadn’t been able to learn when you’d put your heart to it — reading, stealing, surviving. Well, except... “Please, teach me.”

“You deserve a far better teacher than I,” Zhongli said, standing up and dusting his coat off, before offering you his hand. “Let’s pay Wanmin Restaurant a visit, shall we?” Then, wrinkling his nose, “though perhaps... After we rid the house of any more fire hazards.”

---

At the counter of Wanmin Restaurant was a man you had never seen before, though his resemblance to Xiangling was striking. He perked up immediately upon seeing you and Zhongli approach.

“Mr. Zhongli!” He waved frantically. “Thank you for the medicine! My knee feels better already.”

“I’m glad, Chef Mao. I’ve heard that Bubu Pharmacy’s herbal cures are nothing short of divine miracles,” Zhongli said. “Though I hear from Xiangling that you’ve been gathering herbs near Jueyun Karst? You must know that it is extremely dangerous for humans to enter.”

“Of course, of course!” Chef Mao laughed good-naturedly. “You don’t have to warn me twice. I make sure to give that place a good berth — I don’t have enough lives to go around meeting any Adepti. Now, what brings you here today? Xiangling or I will cook anything you’re in the mood for.”

Zhongli shook his head gently. “I’ll have to take you up on that offer some other time. Today, I was hoping to ask Xiangling for some culinary tutelage. This young lady here is looking to learn how to cook.”

“Oh!” Chef Mao peered at you, as though he had just noticed you. Of course, it hadn’t helped that you were trying to hide behind Zhongli the whole time. He turned around and yelled into the kitchen, “XIANGLING! COME HERE, MR. ZHONGLI AND HIS—“

A pause, as he glanced between you and Zhongli, trying to ascertain your relationship.

“Friend,” Zhongli supplied. You hated that your heart skipped a beat.

“—FRIEND ARE HERE TO SEE YOU!”

Almost immediately, Xiangling’s head popped out from behind the window, waving and beaming dazzlingly. As Zhongli explained the situation to her, you once again wondered where she was storing her endless cheer. Perhaps in her hairbuns.

“I hope that it is not too much trouble,” Zhongli concluded, crossing his arms over his chest and stepping aside. You wanted to scream at the thought that he knew you’d been trying to hide behind him.

“Nonsense!” Chef Mao slapped his hands together, and you were beginning to see where Xiangling got her enthusiasm from. “If not for you getting Wanmin Restaurant this spot on Chihu Rock, why, Rex Lapis would never have found us and written such flattering poetry about our food. Then where would we be? No favor is too big for you, my friend, let alone something so trivial as this.”

You glanced up at Zhongli, but his expression did not change. Just exactly how much influence did Zhongli have over the city?

Just who was he?

“Would Miss Hansi want to work as my apprentice for a few weeks?” Xiangling asked, thoughtfully. “With the winter coming up soon, we’re going to need a lot of ingredients, so I could use an extra hand. We can’t pay very much, maybe 1,000 Mora a week, but I’ll keep you nice and full, I promise!”

A thousand Mora — that was more than you had ever had at once in your life. You jumped to say yes, but stopped yourself just in time. It wasn’t up to you. For all Zhongli’s benevolence, what nobleman would want a servant (is that what you even were?) that they'd paid for gone all day?

You looked to Zhongli for his answer. And when he only waited patiently, you prompted, “may I accept this offer, Mr. Zhongli?”

“You are free to do as you please, Hansi.” Zhongli said, and the surprise didn’t sting as much as it used to. “I think it would be a great opportunity.”

You had never been more sure of the following “yes!” that you almost shouted at Xiangling.

Chef Mao laughed. “We’ll see how much of that enthusiasm you can keep when Xiangling starts working you to the bone!” He waved at Zhongli. “Xiangling and I will show her around the restaurant. You should get back to your work, Mr. Zhongli — you must be a very busy man.”

Zhongli raised a brow, but did not comment further. “Will you be able to find your way back home, Hansi?”

After getting your affirmation, Zhongli nodded and walked away. You would have watched him leave, if you could, studying every detail on the back of his coat — but Xiangling grabbed your hand.

“Come on!” She was almost vibrating from excitement, and you couldn’t help but match her grin with your own. “There’s SO much I need to show you!”

---

By the time Xiangling released you from your duties for the day (and you had learned more words than you thought existed), the city had grown dark.

It had been so exciting, the prospect of having a real, actual job that you didn’t have much else on your mind. And so your first mistake, you realized too late, was trying to find the same shortcuts that Zhongli had used to get home. The alleyways at night were strangers to you — and there was good reason for it.

You thought it was your imagination at first, but it became more apparent with every crawling second: there was another pair of footsteps that echoed each of your own. You quickened your pace, noticing the echo match yours almost perfectly. As you turned down deeper between the buildings, you forced your foot to stop halfway to the ground.

The echoing footstep clacked against the cobblestone.

There was a flurry of movement behind you, your pursuer realizing that their cover had been blown. The figure lunged at you, and you ducked at the last second— you were used to bigger men throwing their bodies at you, had long since learned how to use their weight against them. With all your strength, you aimed a kick at the man’s groin—

Only for him to catch your ankle with one of his gloved hands, yanking you off your feet, and throwing you against the wall. The impact knocks all the air from your lungs. You scrambled to get back to your feet, coughing. Instinctively, you reached for your chest, where your Vision once was. It wasn’t there. Of course. And even if it was, what good would it be?

“Feisty,” the man remarked, leaning in to peer at you. In the dim moonlight, you could see a strange red mask hanging his cheek, stark against his auburn hair. At his hip, a Vision glowed royal blue, with a frame that you had never seen before. “What on Teyvat has Zhongli gotten himself into?”

---

“Who are you?” You snapped. The man kept his careful distance from you, but you were sure that he would be able to catch you in seconds if you ran. The way he had moved to meet your blow was practiced, skilled, even. It seemed that you had misjudged his intentions — he was not some drunken man seeking pleasure. “Are you from Bawang ?”

“Ba—what?” The man shook his head, clutching his heart in a dramatic show of dismay. “I’m hurt. Didn’t Mr. Zhongli not tell you about me? Not even a passing mention?”

Eyeing him carefully, you racked your brains. Was he a friend of Zhongli’s? Surely no associate of Zhongli would corner you in an alley at night and push you over... Right? You were realizing how little (absolutely nothing, to be exact), you knew about Zhongli’s life.

“Was the ‘who are you?’ not enough of a clue?”

The man grinned wickedly in the night, eyes glinting at your mockery. “What a tongue you have on you. Didn’t know that was Zhongli’s type.” He offered his hand to you. “I’m Tartaglia, codename Childe. Pleased to meet you.”

You stared at his hand like you would a can of live worms. “The one from the Fatui.”

The message received, he let his hand fall back to his side. “So he has talked about me. And here I was, thinking that he saw me as just a puppet.” He mused. You had no clue what he was talking about, but it was immediately clear that the man was dangerous.

“Are you here to collect his debt? I don’t have any money.”

“Debt?” Tartaglia laughed. “No, there’s no debt . Mr. Zhongli has unlimited access to the Northland Bank’s funds. Yeah,” he clarified, mistaking your shock for confusion. “Turns out, you need to read the fine print when it comes to making deals with the guy.”

“Then what do you want from me?”

“Oh, come now,” he raised his palms in a placating manner, “don’t be so harsh. I’m only here to investigate. Zhongli has been buying enough food for a small army, and while it’s not entirely unusual of him, he also made a large payment to a certain company... that let’s just say even the Fatui won’t touch with a six-foot pole.” Tartaglia swept his glance over you from head to toe. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

You stayed silent, wishing to the Archons that looks could kill.

“I don’t know why he… acquired you, but believe me, he’s always got some kind of plan going on in that head of his.” Tartaglia sighed. “Anyway, where’s your Vision?

You stiffened. “Vision?” You scoffed. The false disbelief came easily, naturally. “You think the Archons would give someone so pathetic a Vision?”

“You can cut the crap. I saw the way you reached for it there. I’ve seen that look way too many times. Vision-holders who get too dependent, who think that having one makes them invincible.” Tartaglia’s lip curled. “A Vision wouldn’t have saved you from me, girlie. But someone as weak as you should at least be carrying it around.”

Every moment of the day, you thought of it, of how all your problems would be solved if — when — you mastered the power of the Archons. The thought that it wouldn’t, that knowing how to use a Vision wouldn’t make you invincible to the world, was devastating.

Before you, Tartaglia’s eyes were the color of the ocean during monsoon seasons, deep, roiling, devastating. You couldn’t seem to bring yourself to lie again, so you lowered your head.

“That’s what I thought. What element?”

“Geo,” you said quietly. The only thing you could do here was keep him talking, long enough until you could find a chance to escape. From what you could tell, he didn’t seem to be on too-friendly terms with Zhongli. Perhaps he wouldn’t tell him, after all.

“Of course.” He nodded, as though there was no other answer.

“What do you mean, of course?”

“ What I mean is —“ Tartaglia peered at you, raising a single brow. “Hmm. What does Zhongli think of your Vision?”

You bit your lip to stop from responding. This was dangerous territory. As the seconds dragged on in silence, you watched a glimmer of glee creep into Tartaglia’s eyes. “Oh! Oh my Archon. You haven’t told him!” The Fatui Harbinger threw back his head and laughed with abandon. “Oh, that’s great! This is beautiful!”

You waited a good half minute for Tartaglia to finally wipe all the tears from his cheeks. “Are you done?” You’d been slowly edging towards the exit of the alley, keeping your eyes trained on the Fatui. As long as you could get to Wanmin Restaurant you would be safe... but no. You couldn’t drag Xiangling and Chef Mao into this. You still didn’t understand half the things Tartaglia had said, but you knew that the Fatui’s attention wasn’t something you wanted, no matter who you were.

“Yes, yes,” Tartaglia huffed, fanning himself dramatically.

“What’s so funny?”

“My contract ,” he almost spat the word, “mandates that I stay silent about that one, sorry. But don’t worry, I’ll keep your little secret. I’d love to see the look on your face when... Anyway. I’m here to give you an offer.”

“Next time, try offering over lunch or something,” you didn’t know where you found the courage to snap, “instead of in an alley.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Tartaglia threw his hands up, somewhat apologetically. “It’s been so hard to catch you alone.” Had he been watching you and Zhongli? You grimaced. “But anyway. How would you like… all the Mora you could ever need? Anything you want to buy, eat or wear, yours, just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

“…And what do you want from me?”

“Information,” he replied, “about Zhongli. How to fight him, really, but also anything else he—“

At this point, you were beginning to feel inclined to believe that the man was simply missing half his marbles. Finally feeling like you had put enough distance between him and yourself, you turned and ran — for a whole two seconds, when a strong force yanked you backwards.

“Hey now, hasn’t Mr. Zhongli taught you anything about manners?” He tutted as you flailed in his grip, “I wasn’t done talking— whoa!”

He ducked, barely avoiding a projectile that whizzed past his cheek, so close that you could hear it whistle through the air. You peer at where it landed, firmly embedded into the brick wall.

It was a golden spear that glowed dimly in the light. Its design was immaculate, intricate, beautiful , you thought numbly, as you watched it fade before your eyes.

“Well then,” Tartaglia said tightly, “never mind her manners. It’s not like you to get so worked up, Mr. Zhongli.”

You snapped your head towards the entrance of the alleyway. You’d recognize the silhouette anywhere, but in that moment, with the same spear gripped in his hand and his features edged silver under the moonlight, eyes glowing a ravenous gold, Zhongli looked particularly divine.

“If I were worked up , Childe, I would not have missed,” Zhongli said, twirling the spear once before setting the pole against the cobblestone. The way he moved -- natural, relaxed, as though the polearm seemed like an extension of his body. There was no anger in his voice, but you felt a slight tremor in the ground under your feet and, despite your situation, a jolt of excitement at the thought of seeing Zhongli fight, seeing a Geo Vision in use.

“Oho?” Childe let go of your sleeve, crouching down low as glowing blue energy gathered in his hands. “Sure sounds like you’re asking for a fight. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this!”

Zhongli regarded him coolly for a moment. “Look around you. Is this really where you want to fight me, Childe?” He raised his head, and you and Tartaglia followed his gaze to a window. Behind the glass, you could make out a young girl’s face as she stared wide-eyed down at the scene below.

To your surprise, the Fatui paused. You hadn’t marked him down as the type to worry about collateral damage. Finally, he shifted back into a more relaxed stance, waving his fingers clean of Hydro. “You know me a little too well, Mr. Zhongli,” he smiled, all hostility seemingly forgotten. You may have misjudged his empathy, but you certainly hadn’t imagined his unhinged nature.

“What business do you have with Hansi?” Zhongli asked.

“That’s our little secret. Well, I’ll leave you two to… whatever it is you do.” He winked. “Remember, you still owe me a dinner sometime, Mr. Zhongli.”

“Certainly,” Zhongli said, lowering his hand and letting his spear disintegrate from between his fingers. “Though I must warn you, it will be the Northland Bank bearing the bill.”

“Of course.” Childe chuckled one more time, as though he remembered something funny. “See you around, Hansi.”

---

On the way home, Zhongli was uncharacteristically quiet. As you entered the warmth of his — of your home, you tried to break the silence. “Thank you for saving me, Mr. Zhongli.”

Zhongli stayed quiet for a short while more, staring at you so intently it stung. “Forgive my silence,” he finally said. “When I couldn’t find you at Wanmin, I thought that you had been hurt or… that you had run away.”

Astonished, you didn’t really know what to say. Running away was a thought that had crossed your mind, but each time, the cons far outweighed the pros. You were more than familiar with what awaited you on the streets of Liyue. “I am not so stupid to be ignorant of what would happen to me if I did” There was a pregnant pause. “And besides, I have had no reason to, Mr. Zhongli. You have been more than kind to me.”

Zhongli smiled. Was it just your imagination, or were his meltingly gorgeous smiles coming more and more often? Trying not to let your thoughts wander, you blurted the first thing that came to mind. “That spear was beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he said. “It has served me well.”

“Do you really know how to use it?” There had been no weaponry in the house that you’d seen, but you believed him wholeheartedly.

“I am somewhat versed in its usage, yes.”

“How long did it take you to learn how to fight?” You wondered, sincerely.

“I have always known how to fight, for as long as I can remember.” Suddenly, his weathered hands made sense. With your notions of him growing up as a sheltered, rich noble shattered, you had never been more curious of his past. Had he been part of the Millelith? “Though, I have since come to learn that it was never true strength. Why do you ask, Hansi?”

You hesitated, nervously glancing away. Way to dig yourself a hole. “Just wondering.”

“Hansi, I gave you my word to keep you safe, to the best of my abilities. However, I fear that there may be times when I may not be by your side, such as tonight.” Zhongli seemed to think deeply about his next words. “Remember that if you want to learn how to fight, you just need to ask.”

Tell him , a voice in your mind screamed. Tell him about the damned Vision.

As tempting as it was, you were indeed more than familiar with what awaited you on the streets of Liyue. You would not risk, even remotely, your position in Zhongli’s household.

“Thank you, Mr. Zhongli,” you mustered the warmest smile you could, as you stood up to retreat to your room. “I will keep that in mind.”

“That’s all I ask,” Zhongli exhaled deeply. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

#zhongli #zhongli fanfic #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #my writing #anqi writes #fragile as dust

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itsuki-minamy · 3 years

Text

WONDERFUL SCHOOL DAYS: MY PRECIOUS RED

CHAPTER 2: SPRING

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: skyflyinginaction

* Gakuen K (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

"Oh! It's over!"

At the same time the bell rang, Yata stood up vigorously.

However, at that moment, the chalk released by Anna-sensei hit Yata's forehead so badly that it was creepy. Yata turned around and was surprised by the gaudy sound.

"Guh! It hurts!"

"Misaki. Class is not over yet."

"Hey... the doorbell rang, isn't it over?"

"Class doesn't end until the teacher says it's over. Have a seat."

"Don't bother. It's over."

She tried to tell him that it wasn't okay. However, on the way, when Anna-sensei caught him, Yata shook his shoulders and mouth.

"Tsk. Sit down quickly."

"What? Monkey!"

"Misaki."

"I understand."

Yata clicked his tongue and sat up savagely.

"Class, so far for today. Don't forget your homework, preparation, and review."

"Wow! This time it's over!"

Yata stood up again and Anna-sensei stopped him again.

Kukuri, who was sitting next to Saya, stood up, touching her arm a bit.

"Come on. The next thing is physical education. First we have to change clothes."

"Oh, it's true."

Oh, so is that why Yata was so tense?

She quickly cleaned her desk and got up with her gym bag.

"Look, Wagahai-chan will go too. Oh, I'll lend you a bag. I'll bring it to you. Saya-chan, your left hand is burned. It hurts, right?"

"It hurts, but it's okay like this."

She shook her head, "Okay then." She replied softly.

"Physical education is often separated by gender, but today it is the same. It is a physical fitness test."

"Oh, is today the fitness test?"

[Physical education for the first and second semesters is decided by a physical fitness test.]

"Yes, it's correct."

"Is Saya-chan good at exercising?"

"Normal. If you say simple tasks like 'run' and 'swim', I'm good at it, but when it gets complicated I tend to think too much and I'm not very good at it. I need a strategy."

"Oh, basketball or volleyball?"

"Yes. I'm not good at team sports. How about you, Kukuri-chan?"

"Me too. I'm neither good nor bad."

"Neko seems to be good at exercising. She moves her limbs well."

Glancing back at Neko as she opened the locker room door, the strange-eyed girl smiled a big smile and shook her head vigorously.

"I like to move my body, but I'm not good with rules!"

It was exciting to her.

"Today we will do a physical fitness test. Everyone, do your best to get a better score than last year!"

Claudia Weismann, a physics teacher with a soft and beautiful beauty, shook the board and screamed.

"You know the first event to measure, right? Each group, after the measurement, go clockwise to the next event. When they have finished the tour, go to the schoolyard!"

"Us first, what was that?"

"Grip strength. No, it's below average, isn't it?"

Kukuri sighed.

Fushimi sighed as well, saying, "That's annoying... Do you want to do things correctly?" She had made a mistake, right? She remembers hearing that the blue club was a super elite group who behaved well.

When she accidentally looks back, he glares at her. "Sorry.". She felt a murderous aura.

"Yes. Next. Yata-kun. Come here."

She suddenly looked back at Claudia's voice.

Yata's face at Claudia's call was surprisingly bright red.

"Kukuri..."

She opened her eyes and rubbed them at the strange answer.

The event was the long seat forward lean. Claudia had just told him to sit in front of the digital measuring instrument... It is true that they will sit close enough to touch, but that's it. That's. However, Yata seemed to be going through a difficult time.

"Yata-kun, even if Claudia-sensei is the other party, he's nervous."

When she coughed, Kukuri turned around and smiled a bitter smile.

"It's like that except for Anna-sensei. He's not good with girls anyway. He hasn't talked much about it either."

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Yes. If you answer 'Oh', do I feel that communication went well today?"

Hey? Was it really like that?

She stared at Yata, who was away from Claudia, because he couldn't concentrate.

It was certainly a digital measuring instrument that a single person can measure. Even if Claudia was out, she could measure it, but she... she already understood. That was Yata, he really was shy.

Little by little, her chest grew warm.

Although he wasn't that good with girls, he looked directly into her eyes and apologized.

And he said that he would "protect" her.

It was Yata who suggested that they take her to the Kusanagi´s bar.

She finally understood how cool he was. That's how it is. All of that was something he had a lot of trouble doing. What should she do? She was happy!

How much of the flame she burns was originally from Yata? What's more, she was a different Strain.

"Hey. It's Saya-chan's turn! What? You're smiling."

"It's nothing. I'm sorry."

She shook her head hastily, pressed her red cheeks together and went to Awashima-sensei.

"Yes. Grip strength meter. Start with the right hand. You should not use the left hand."

Awashima-sensei, a frozen beauty math teacher, presented you with a grip strength meter.

"I think it's okay..."

"But it hurts if you push yourself, right? You can't push yourself too hard. What did the nurse say? Did you go to the hospital?"

"Oh, sure, I was told not to move too much."

"So, let's stop the left hand. We'll only measure the right hand. Now, hold it. Lower your hand parallel to your body. Yes. Hold it as tightly as you can."

As she indicated, she squeezed the grip strength gauge.

At that moment, a destructive sound echoed through the gym.

"Eh?"

"Eeeeeeh?!"

Awashima's eyes widened. She was confused too, and she looked down at her right hand.

The needle jumped, and that was not enough, the grip piece was broken and had come off. Was it the handle part? Subjection? Anyway, the part she grabbed was broken.

Eh? Maybe she over-squeezed the grip strength gauge?!

"I wonder if it is old."

"Sensei. It's painful."

She didn't think it was easy for an aluminum alloy that wasn't rusted to break because it was old.

She understood that she should take care of herself, but she couldn't.

When she shook her head forcefully, Awashima scowled sheepishly, "That's right."

"Is it because of my ability?"

"Yes, maybe. No, maybe it is."

"Konohana-san. You still don't know your abilities, do you? I have received reports about it."

Reports from whom?

She wondered that, but it was definitely true, so she took it firmly.

"Let's try again for now."

"Eh? Is that okay?"

"Things can be firmly measured this time."

"But I could break it again, right?"

She had gambled a bit, but it was true that her abilities were so unstable that it didn't seem like she was going to continue (or rather, she hadn't had that experience yet), so she was quietly receiving a new strength meter from grip.

Suddenly, the whole class was looking at her. Of course, Yata too.

"Wow..."

She couldn't bear the attention and her face turned red.

"That's right. Konohana-san."

"Oh, yeah."

Like before, she lowered her hand vertically, but unlike before, she tried to hold it a little lighter.

However, at that moment, she heard a loud buzzing sound again and closed her eyes tightly.

(Wow, ah! Why is it continuously activated only right now?), she thought.

"Sorry! Sorry!"

Awashima shook her head and asked Kukuri to fetch a new grip strength gauge from the warehouse. Then she turned her eyes back and tilted her head a little.

"The record is over 100 kilos. Is it okay if it can't be measured?"

"I can't measure it, please!"

This was only the result of the skill activation.

Her own grip strength wasn't as good as a gorilla's, it was normal! Because she was normal!

"Hm. It seems the newcomer's skills are excellent. Unlike you."

When she returned the broken grip strength gauge and tilted her head, she heard Fushimi's tongue click from behind.

When she took a breath and turned around, Fushimi had a haunting smile on Yata. Yata also turned his fierce gaze towards Fushimi, saying, "What?"

(Ah, wait!), She thought.

He immediately mistook her for such an atmosphere.

When she looked at Awashima, she said, "Well... oh, you two...", and gave them a lecture.

Then, to stop the fight that was about to start, she started walking towards the two of them, but at that moment, the third "bang" echoed through the gym.

They all looked at her as if that sound was coming from her.

"Kya, kyaa, ah!"

Her wide eyes were stained evenly and astonishingly. With the board broken in half, she quickly bowed her head.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm sick and my hands are getting stronger!"

"It's okay. You two…"

Looking back, Awashima smiled gently and turned her eyes to Fushimi and Yata.

And when she points her thumb at them, she heard a pleasant voice.

"If you don't stop fighting now, you will stay like this too."

"Eh?!"

(I mean... I broke it that way. I mean, I won't do that!), she thought.

She tried to deny it hastily, but when she saw the two of them choke on the words, she thought reflectively.

(Maybe it is better not to solve the misunderstanding to fit in this place?)

However, she would like to deny that "If they're going to fight here, they'll end up like this.".

When she saw them, they clicked their tongues at the same time and turned away from her.

When she looked at Kamamoto as she was about to cry from the pain of being "the last demon chief", Kamamoto also hid his smiling mouth with a deliberate throat clearing and turned away from her.

When she gave a great sigh, before Awashima who returned in front of what was broken in half, she bowed deeply.

++++++++++

Rang the doorbell.

Once she stepped inside, the wooden floor squeaked.

"Welcome. Oh. Yata-chan, you can escort properly."

Kusanagi, who was cleaning the glasses, gave him a mischievous wink when he saw them.

"You took her bag and opened the door... Yeah, great. Did you keep up with the girl?"

Yata blushed a little.

"I can carry my luggage, but..."

"Oh, I am your servant until the burns heal!"

"Why do you say…"

She was embarrassed, she wondered if it was okay, but regret the words.

Saying that while she was thinking about her request, Kusanagi laughed and showed the counter seat.

"Miss, sit down. What do you want to drink? Soda, tea, orange juice..."

"Oh, never mind. I didn't get the price of the parfait yesterday either."

"Okay, don't worry. Part of the cost of the material is deducted exactly from the cost of the apartment. Don't hesitate."

Is that so?

"Well then tea. Um... please use china that can break."

Kusanagi widened his eyes in amazement.

"Break up? Why…?"

"Because she could crush him."

"What?! Crush it?!"

"Yes."

"Konohana-san, it was impossible to measure with a grip force of more than 100 kg."

"Yes?!"

Kamamoto's words surprised everyone, not just Kusanagi.

As she looked around her, she looked at Kusanagi with a glance and breathed softly.

"It seems the ability has been activated... I smashed two grip strength gauges."

Kusanagi lost his complexion, perhaps even imagining a broken grip strength gauge.

"Well, Saya-chan. Is it possible to use a stainless steel cup? The color of the black tea worsens."

"Of course it's okay. Thank you."

"I would like to thank you. But what is your ability, Saya-chan?"

Kusanagi tilted his head as he set the kettle.

"Here we go…"

"Isn't it the power to manipulate the flame? That pillar of fire…"

"If that's the case, she won't run out of oxygen surrounded by flames. She'll burn."

Suoh, who was lying on the couch, denied the words someone said with a yawn.

"And that's Yata's flame."

"So maybe because the quality of the flame was different? It was Homura's flame, so it burned out."

"It's not impossible, but... hmm."

Totsuka, who was playing with the camera at the end of the counter, looked up.

"That's too conspicuous for Yata's flames to escape, isn't it? So I think Konohana-san's abilities are working somehow... but because she acted on the flames, I manipulate the fire. Is it premature say skill?"

So cut off his words, and Totsuka lowered the camera and looked at her.

"Don't you think you could have multiple abilities? You protected yourself from the knife, (maybe) acted on Yata's flames and broke the grip strength meter, all of which are abilities of different quality."

Everyone except Suoh took a breath and stared at each other at the Totsuka words.

Eh?

She wasn't familiar with these abilities in the first place, so she didn't understand why everyone was so shocked, she opened her mouth and looked at Totsuka.

"Ah, is that unusual?"

"Yes. At least I haven't heard of that."

"Truly?"

When she looked around, everyone shook their heads evenly.

"Is that so."

"I don't know. I don't know if you really have multiple abilities, but it certainly looks different in quality."

"If so, right? Konohana-san's specialty as Strain isn't just that she was born off the island."

Coughing, Totsuka wiped the smile from his lips. Then, he made a thoughtful gesture and called her "Konohana-san.".

"Oh, yeah!"

"That's what happened in PE class, right?"

"Yes, that's true. It was in PE class this afternoon."

When she shook her head vertically, Totsuka and Kusanagi looked at each other.

"Not good."

"Eh?"

"That's right... what should I do? I'm sure he noticed it too."

Totsuka covered his mouth with his hand and stared at the amber counter.

That boy? Who was he?

She bow my head, but no one said anything. Did everyone know?

Suddenly, when she saw Yata, he bitterly distorted his face and stared at the bottle on the back of the counter in silence.

The identity of "that boy" was immediately revealed.

To be exact, the next day. When she went to the bathroom alone after lunch.

"Hey."

As she put her handkerchief in her pocket, he approached her as she walked back to the classroom.

She turned around and looked back quickly.

"Ah, Fushimi-kun?"

"Are you really going in there?"

"What?" Before asking, she was surprised to hear him speak to her.

She turned to Fushimi and smiled, "Um...".

"What place is that?"

"The red club. Why are you in such a place?"

"Why..."

"I've never heard of a Strain with multiple abilities."

The words surprised her.

Maybe "this boy" was the one Totsuka was talking about...

"Do you think you can elucidate your abilities and control yourself in such a place? They do not perform any activities. You will just soak in warm water every day."

"Oh, that..."

"Anyway, are you just drinking tea and talking?"

She wondered why? It was as if he knew the red club. That crossed her mind.

By the way, Totsuka had called him "that boy", wasn't it a way of calling a person that you only know his face?

Maybe it was because she didn't answer him that Fushimi clicked his tongue.

She shook her shoulders and lifted her face from him.

"That…"

"Someday someone may be in danger. It's too late. Do you think so too? Your abilities must urgently be clarified and you must learn to control them."

She thought he was correct.

But for some reason, she couldn't obediently control it, and when she rejected it again, Fushimi clicked his tongue again.

"You are a Strain full of irregularities. It's strange. You can't do it alone. You should still be under the supervision of the blue club, for the good of the school and the students."

Under surveillance...

The words bit her lips involuntarily.

There was nothing wrong with what he said. Rather, that was correct. Very correct.

But…

With pursed lips, she touched the bandage on her left hand with her right hand.

But nobody in the red club said that.

"The captain cares. If something happens outside the school, regardless of whether it is inside the school, we may not be able to respond quickly. The meeting place for the red club is outside the school."

Then Fushimi kept talking.

But after all he was correct. It could be wrong. Because she cannot control it, her abilities can be revealed outside of school. At that time, it would be possible that there was no one from the red club nearby. She would have no way to stop the damage.

She couldn't do it alone, she thought. There was no rumbling sound. She certainly hurt people in the past.

Because Fushimi was right, she couldn't argue, she was just scared.

It was at that moment that...

"Stop it!"

A high-pitched scream echoed down the hall. At the same time, intense footsteps were heard.

When she raised her face to turn around, a reddish-brown haired boy jumped in front of them.

At that moment, her heart made a loud noise and she covered her mouth with both hands.

"Don't say what you want!"

Yata yelled as he stepped between her and Fushimi.

"What's wrong? You shouldn't come to school to act like this!"

He said with a high-pitched cry without hesitation.

Her chest warmed with his back wider than she expected, wrapped in a black school uniform.

He was there to protect her.

Fushimi was very right, but he still held him back.

She knew that she shouldn't be happy. There was no reason to rejoice. She was not a good person to protect. If she really thought of everyone, she should abide by Fushimi's words.

However, she was excited, in a selfish way.

"Yata-kun..."

Kamamoto squeezed her shoulders coughing. He gently supported his large, warm hands.

"How dare you intimidate her?! Do you know the word 'rights'?"

Faced with Yata's anger, Fushimi maintained his usual nasty and annoying demeanor. He looked at Yata with a ridiculous laugh on his lips.

"Hmm...! What?"

"Always talking, and what right do you have? Don't say warm things. It's too late after an irreparable disaster. I don't think the red club can handle it."

"Shut up, bastard!"

Yata yelled at Fushimi's words.

"Don't be silly! Idiot! What do you think that girl is?"

"A Strain, so what? This place is full of them."

Obstructing Yata's words, Fushimi took a breath.

Then, with a provocative mausoleum again, he narrowed his eyes and looked at Yata.

"You will end up being killed, Misaki. You seem like an incomparably idiotic person, right?"

"Bastard!"

Yata grabbed onto Fushimi's chest as if he couldn't take it anymore.

At the same time, the battle was dry. The lid of the memory that was desperately stored in the depths opened, making a rattling noise.

What revived in her mind was a noise and a scream. It was a schoolyard where tears flew.

A blue sheet put on the floor. The red lights of the ambulance that came all the time.

And a bloody person lifted off the ground.

The faces of the students on the gurney overlapped with Yata's.

"Ah!"

At that moment, terrible nausea hit her. She held her mouth with both hands and sat there.

"Konohana-san!"

Kamamoto's voice rang out. He quickly knelt beside her and hugged her shoulders like she cared, but she couldn't lift her face. She was trying to hold back the nausea.

Her whole body was trembling terribly.

It was an unmistakable horror.

Yes, it was. Fortunately, there were no deaths at the time, but she was lucky. After all, there were many serious injuries.

(I don't know what it will be like next time! This time I can kill people!), she thought.

Kukuri, Neko, Shiro, her classmates, and the red club members as well. Even Yata!

"Are you okay? Konohana-san!"

"Kamamoto! Get away!"

Dark horror stained her eyes black.

With the sharp shout of Konohana and Yata, Kamamoto's hand detached from her shoulder, and the signal fell far away.

Immediately after, she was strongly drawn and her body floated in the air.

"Ah!"

When she opened her eyes as she held her mouth with both hands, Yata's face was at her side.

She realized that Yata was holding her and her heart ignited.

"Are you ok?!

She was happy.

Oh, but no. She wanted Yata to let her go, she was afraid of hurting him.

"Uya!"

"Don't talk! Now let's go to the infirmary."

The fiery eyes no longer saw Fushimi, they only stared straight ahead.

Her profile was very sad.

At the same time as her heart beat, it became painful.

(No. It's not good, Yata-kun. Let me go.), she thought.

But she didn't get her voice out of it. Her consciousness was swallowed up by the darkness just as she was.

Suddenly, consciousness arose from her.

When she slowly opened her eyes, she could see the cloudy white ceiling.

She couldn't understand the situation for a moment, and looked mysteriously around her, but she could only see the white partition curtain.

Oh, but she notices that the curtain rail was covered with her uniform jacket and this was the bed in the infirmary room.

When she got up, you probably noticed it from the sound of the bed. She opened the dividing curtain and the infirmary teacher looked at her face.

Instead of being kind, the teacher, who felt like a trustworthy mother with deep nostalgia, smiled and took off her lab coat to get closer to her.

Her smile makes her feel relieved for some reason.

"I…"

"Yes. You fell. Don't you remember?"

"Remember…"

Oh, it's true. That had happened.

"Oh, that's good. Afternoon class is over, so go home today."

"Eh?!"

Oh, was it over?

"Did I sleep that long?"

"It's a few hours, even if it's long, right?"

No, but...

"They should pick you up, so go home today. Get some rest."

"What? Pick me up?"

When she tilted her head as she combed her hair with her hand, the door to the infirmary opened instantly as if could hear her, and Kamamoto said, "I'm sorry.".

"Oh, you came."

The infirmary teacher looked at the door and beckoned.

Then, Yata and Kamamoto came out from behind the curtain and looked at her anxiously.

"Are you ok?"

"Aren't you shaking anymore?"

Their voices made her feel very relieved.

"Yes, thank you.", she said smiling. Yata's face turned bright red.

And as he was, he retreated into the shadow of the curtain. "Yes?"

"Oh, Yata-kun?"

"Yata-san didn't mind carrying you, take it easy."

"Shut up!"

Just as she was, she heard the rattling sound of the door. So did he come out?

"Huh? Hm?"

"Oh, don't worry. Maybe she's waiting outside. Konohana-san, can you get up?"

Kamamoto shrugged and put a bag on the bed.

"This is a bag. Rest assured that Yukizome cleaned it up. It should have what you need. If you can get you up, let's go home. I'll send it to the bedroom."

"Oh, thank you. Maybe it's okay."

It was time to get out of bed and get up.

She fixed the wrinkles in her skirt and put her shoes back on. She looked good.

"Especially, it feels awkward, they're not there, are they?"

"Yes. There are none. Take it easy."

"But the expression was dark. Really?"

Eh?

She involuntarily looks at the teacher.

"Is your body really okay?"

"My body is fine..."

Eh?

The teacher shrugged and said, "Then go home."

Kamamoto removed the sack from the curtain rail and handed it to her. She grabbed it and put it on.

"Then, thank you."

Ready to go, she bowed to the nursing teacher.

When she bowed firmly to her voice that told her "Take care." and she came out of the infirmary with Kamamoto, as Kamamoto said, Yata sat in the hallway and waited.

"Yata-san..."

"Oh, give me the bag."

"Eh? I can carry it."

"I'm going to do it."

Yata extended his hand with slightly red cheeks and looking away.

"Then, please."

"Oh. Then take out your PDA."

Eh? PDA?

"PDA? Why?"

"Because it's okay, get it out."

As she tilted her head, he took out his PDA, and Yata pointed his own PDA.

A bang was heard and Yata's contact information was recorded on her PDA.

"This…"

"If something happens, give me a call! Okay? Do it!"

Yata's face turned red as soon as he saw her.

Her cheeks warmed when she noticed him. She was very happy.

Because... huh? Didn't he care at all what Fushimi said?

(I can't control my abilities, right? I might hurt Yata-kun. It's not an impossible story, because I've done it in the past.), she thought.

She try to speak correctly.

But it wasn't just about being there. He will try to protect her, it was also very natural.

Why? Why did he worry so much?

It was like a dream. Was that really the case?

"If I call you, will you come?"

"Oh, that's the natural thing to do!"

He wasn't looking at her as usual, but he didn't hesitate or stagnate at her words.

"No matter what happens, hurry up and do it right away!"

Simple words that can be clearly understood without lying.

She was so happy.

(Oh what's up with this? Why am I such a happy monster?), she thought.

She tried to email "Yata-kun" while she hid her face that had turned bright red with the PDA.

Yata, who was alerted by the ringtone and lowered his eyes to his PDA, turned his eyebrows on her saying "Oh?", and finally looked back at her.

"Yes, call me, but not for something silly!"

"Oh? I'll send you an email, if you don't have anything to do..."

"Ok, that's fine."

Kamamoto turned away from Yata, who averted his eyes from his as he endured laughter.

Yata wandered for a while and then quickly turned his back on her to hide his red face from her.

"Hey, I'm not going to answer you if it's something stupid!"

++++++++++

"Yes? You guys. If you get a red dot in the middle and end of the period, you won't be allowed to enter here for a while."

At Kusanagi's sudden declaration, they all yelled at once: "Huh?!" Oh, everyone except her, Suoh, and Totsuka.

Yata, who was sitting on the sofa with her, raised his hand, also stopped and looked at Kusanagi in a stunned way.

"Eh?! I won't, it's stupid. Nobody says I can get good points. Just tell me to avoid the red dots. It's the lowest line."

"But they are all themes, right?"

"It's still normal. Hey, I'm thankful I didn't say that in the skill test in April. The range is fixed at the middle and end of the period. It shouldn't be difficult."

"He can't help but show that he is our idiot, Kusanagi-san."

"I'm not trying to do that, stupid."

Kusanagi sighed and put the polished glass on the counter.

"By the way, Saya-chan, how did your skill test go?"

"Huh? Oh, the average score was only 80 points. Math was a bit difficult."

The inside of the tent was so cold that everyone looked at her with surprised eyes.

Yata's hand also stopped again.

"What? I haven't taken those numbers."

"Oh, no, at my other school, the transfer exam was really difficult."

Eh? Was that so?

(But I haven't taken the transfer exam, have I? I got a letter of recommendation and I just...), she thought.

Thinking of that, Totsuka suddenly looked at her and looked at her left hand.

"By the way, your burns, don't you have to go to the hospital anymore?"

"Oh, yeah. Thanks. All I have to do is be careful not to leave marks."

Yata applied to her a vitamin C ointment and lotion to the back of her hand and bandaged it.

He put a gauze on and taped it up. He had repeated it many times since April and he was used to it.

Yata who usually had a hard time talking to her, much less touching her, had a calm face when he did that treatment, probably because it was a treatment. He would ask things like "Are you okay?" or "Are you no longer in pain?"

When everyone made fun of him, he turned bright red and got angry, but he didn't stop doing it after all.

"Will the scars disappear?"

"There is no problem with the right knee. It seems that the left hand thing will disappear cleanly if care is not neglected. It will take some time, but it will still be clean in the summer."

"Yeah I'm glad."

Totsuka smiled as if he was relieved.

"Hmm. Left hand, finished. Is the bandage not tight?"

Yata propped up the scissors and looked at her.

She slowly opened and closed her hand, shaking her head.

"It's okay."

"So next is the foot. Put your foot up."

Yata hit the couch, pointing at it.

When she lifted her leg up as he told her to, Yata took off her shoe and put it on her lap. Then he released the bandage on her right knee.

"No matter how many times I watch it, it's erotic, right?"

"Aha. But Yata doesn't see it with evil eyes like you do, Chitose."

"No, Saya-chan doesn't either. She lets a man's hand apply ointment or lotion."

"That's why Konohana-san doesn't have an evil idea like Chitose."

She could hear them.

No, she wasn't embarrassing now, but she was really embarrassing at first.

She had gotten used to it a bit lately, but not that she wasn't embarrassed at all.

But more than that, Yata was desperate... It wasn't Yata's fault, but he was desperate to make it up to her and do what he could.

So she was very happy.

"How about the pain?"

"Most of it is gone, it's just turning red. Maybe I can use a lotion."

"Hmm. But don't overdo it, should I apply a little more salve?"

"Yes."

"Isn't that conversation too erotic to listen to?"

"Shut up, Chitose."

"Saya. I'm off topic. The guy who got a red dot in the middle and end of the period is banned from coming for a while. That's absolutely unreasonable."

Kusanagi stopped the talk by hitting a bread. Yes, that was the story.

Yata's hand stopped again. Maybe for Yata it was quite dangerous?

"If you don't study properly, you won't be a professional."

"You don't want to study because you want to be like Mikoto?"

"No! Go study! Even now!"

Yata sighed as he opened the cap on the lotion.

That was it. It was so dangerous that he sighed.

When she laughed, she softly made a noise to Yata, who was in a gloomy state.

"Let's do our best."

++++++++++

"Are you studying correctly?"

While she was doing her homework in her room, it suddenly occurred to her to email Yata.

She went into the kitchen, boiled water, made instant coffee, and returned to the study table with hot mug in hand, and had already received an answer.

She sat in the chair and enthusiastically opened the message.

"I was in Homura a while ago."

Only those words, but she was very happy. Yata answered the message correctly even though he said that he would not reply nonsense.

It was blunt and a short sentence, but he answered correctly the right way every time.

She was happy to send an email even though she had no problem.

Today was certainly a study session at HOMRA.

Some people were playing games, but Yata was studying hard.

When she casually showed Yata, who scratched his head, he turned red and didn't speak properly, but when the problem was solved, he said quietly, "Thank you.".

When he asked her over and over again, "Tell me...", "Tell me this..." and "Tell me that...", Kusanagi, who was watching them, said, "These idiots. Couldn't they study elsewhere?", but he was happy.

At HOMRA, the red club was very warm.

It was so much fun mingling with everyone and being happy.

"I have to do it in the bedroom. Aim! Avoid the red dots!"

She sent a reply to Yata and wrapped both hands around the mug.

The sweet, warm coffee made her heart feel warm.

She never dreamed that she could spend her days with that feeling even though her abilities had been revealed to everyone. She believed that it was all thanks to Yata and everyone in the red club.

Was she really good? She was having a quiet day like that.

The PDA shook to notify her of an incoming call.

When she opened the email she received, she saw the words "I'm upset."

"Hm, you don't have to be upset, Yata-kun. Maybe you're just blocked, aren't you? Let's do our best together. Ok?"

She texted while she smiled.

He immediately responded with an "Ok."

That made her feel like it was the end of the conversation, so she thought about it for a moment and asked, "Let's study in the library instead of going to HOMRA tomorrow."

She thought that he would probably hate studying in the library, but the answer was, surprisingly, "I can do that.", and she was shocked.

Eh?! Was it okay to go study in the library? Wouldn't he go to HOMRA?!

Oh, she didn't think he would return that answer. Yata really wanted to avoid the red dot.

She was happy in another way and said, "Let's do our best! If you have any questions, ask more and more. If I can understand it, I will show you."

Yata's response was: "I don't know, there are a lot of things I don't understand."

Yata's worried face seemed to appear before her eyes, and it erupted irresistibly.

"Hahaha. Yes. Yes... I see... Hehehe."

She laughed and wrapped both hands around the PDA.

But still, she told him to study together in the library without giving up.

"Well. If that happens, I'll ask you to avoid the red dot. Homura without Yata-kun is alone."

She put down the PDA and picked up the mechanical pencil again in a new mood.

++++++++++

"If that is."

Awashima-sensei announced with the ringing of the doorbell.

They all responded at once. A great chorus of "Yes!" echoed through the classroom.

"Turn over the answer sheet."

She placed her answer sheet on the stack of paper that came from behind and turned it forward.

Awashima received it, counted the number, and confirmed it. And when she finished, she looked around and smiled.

"Yes. Good work."

"Good luck! The test is over!"

The screams increased. She too took a breath and sank down on the desk.

After all, the math was difficult. She was not good at it. The last problem, she could not write it, although the final score would be high.

When she was narrowing her eyes, Kamamoto's voice, "How did it go, Yata-san?", jumped into her ears.

(Oh yeah! Yata-kun!), she thought.

She snapped her eyes open and woke up.

And when she got up on the same impulse, she went with Yata and the others.

"How was it? Do you think you can pass?"

"Oh, maybe it's okay."

Kamamoto smiled. Looking at Yata, he was a bit confident.

"What about, Yata-kun?"

"No! No, that..."

When she looked into Yata's eyes, he blushed a little and walked away.

But soon, he coughed, "Well, I was able to write more than usual... I have hope."

"Really?! So..."

"Well, I hope it goes well. But, I think it can be avoided."

"Hooray! That's good! You did the best you could!"

They didn't have the result yet, but she was relieved. She didn't want Yata to be banned from the bar.

When she clapped her hands, Yata flashed a goofy smile, "Oh!"

That was irresistible and she warmed her chest.

"Oh that's right. Hey, Yata-kun. This morning's email…"

"......!"

She was worried about it since morning, but she finally asked a question that she couldn't ask because she thought it shouldn't disturb his concentration on the exam.

At that moment, Yata patted her on the back and his overreaction made her narrow her eyes. That? That reaction.

In fact, when she woke up this morning, she was surprised to receive an email from Yata.

Because he, until today, he almost always responded to her emails, but Yata never spoke first. That day for the first time, Yata sent her an email. She had been impressed since the morning.

But that was a slightly confusing email.

There was no topic or text. It was just an email with a photo of the crepe shop attached. She at first she thought it was a wrong email.

Because she knew him well, Yata wasn't very good at sweets.

It was strange to think of Yata sending her a photo of a crepe shop. She felt something was wrong.

So, she thought about asking what happened after the test was completed, so she put it on hold... Hmm? Wasn't that a mistake?

"Email?"

Kamamoto tilted his head and looked at her.

When he spoke to him because he didn't want to say something, Kamamoto turned his gaze to Yata, "Did you send it?"

"Well, well!"

Yata stepped out of Kamamoto's line of sight and said that.

(Oh, after all, he sent it to me. Not a mistake.), she thought.

What did that mean?

Suddenly, she put her finger on her lips and thought.

(That email. What if he couldn't write the topic or the text?)

What if attaching a photo was the best thing the shy Yata could do in front of a girl?

Oh, maybe that was it?

"……!"

Her heart made a loud noise.

Ah, she wished it were so.

But what if it was different? If it was a coincidence? She was thinking too much.

(But what if…? In this case…), she thought, and her face turned red.

Was it okay to say that? If it was different, it would be a shame, but... but!

She clenched her hands tightly and looked at Yata.

"Oh, that... if you want, can you take me? No, I want to go!"

"……!"

Yata turned his back on her at her words and looked away.

When she laughed again, his cheeks turned bright red as she looked at him. She then she thought that she was not wrong, (Ah! It can't be! Yes, that was it!).

She ducked involuntarily, hugging her knees.

"What?! Konohana-san?"

She couldn't raise her face at Kamamoto's voice of surprise. Because her ears were bright red and she could understand him.

(Oh, I get it! Yata-kun is great and I like him!), she thought.

Even though he wasn't good at talking to girls, he emailed her and everything.

Of course, inviting a girl must have been a huge hurdle for Yata.

Yata, who wasn't good at sweets, went to the trouble of looking it up and bravely emailed her, right? She always wanted to see it, and she could have Kamamoto translate it!

"Eh? What's wrong? Yata-san. What happened to Konohana-san?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything."

"Huh? What's wrong? Am I the only one in the group?"

"Shut up. You have to keep up with yourself."

Eh? There, Kamamoto always goes where Yata went, but...

"But no. If so, okay?"

"Huh? Hey, Konohana-san."

Face down, she shook her head and refused to explain.

"Yes?"

It wasn't that hard to tell, was it? "I invited you to a crepe shop.", "I invite you.", is a story that can be done, right? Also, if she went to the crepe shop later, she could make a rough guess, right? Still, she didn't want to say why.

Yata invited her, she wanted to keep that impression.

It could be for a short time, but she wanted to keep it.

She knew Yata was embarrassed, but when she saw him refuse to talk to Kamamoto in the same way, she even felt the same way. She also tickled her and she was happy.

That "happy" accumulated and he made her happier. Yata was amazing. She felt sorry for Kamamoto, who kept it a secret.

Oh, but after all, she wanted Yata, who had the courage to send that photo, to be with her.

++++++++++

"Hey, how about the crepe shop?"

"It was delicious!"

With a big smile on his forehead, Kusanagi said, "I'm glad."

"That's why the three of us are late. I see, it's too early to be relieved."

"Of course. You know that, right?"

"I don't know. I don't think so when I see him frolicking behind me."

Yata, Kamamoto and everyone else were talking about the athletic festival around the couch where Suoh was sleeping.

It's basically a class competition, but after all, there seems to be a competition that uses skills to compete between special clubs, and they were all on fire.

Above all, the extreme tag game that takes place at the end of all competitions, it is a competition that can be said to be the flower form of the school athletic festival, and it seems to be very exciting.

Everyone was motivated to beat the blue club this year.

"Saya-chan, will you participate?"

"Eh?"

Suddenly, Kusanagi said that to her and looked back.

"……?"

"Sports day. If you go to the competition as a member of the red club, yes."

At Kusanagi's words, everyone stopped talking and looked at her.

"Eh, what?"

She notices that everyone's eyes were shining as if they were saying, "Let's do it!", and she shook her head hastily, also with both hands.

"Yes, yes, refrain!"

"Eh? Why? Do it!"

"Chitose-san. No, I refrain from doing it! I'm afraid of competitions that use my abilities. I can't control them."

In the first place, she had never tried to develop her abilities on her own. She didn't want to use them at all, but just hung out.

Did they want her to use her abilities voluntarily when she didn't even know what her abilities are? What a terrifying thing. Just thinking about it made her shiver.

"I don't know what will come out in the first place, so there's a good chance it won't work."

"Oh, never mind. I'll keep helping you..."

Yata's little cough made her eyes widen.

"It did not matter?"

Even having seen that pillar of fire, the stone pavement that was sandwiched between them, the broken grip strength meter, and the broken recording board, she was surprised that Yata could say that normally.

She really couldn't tell him anything.

Wasn't Yata afraid of him? Doesn't he think she will ever hurt him?

She didn't want him to be afraid of her. Of course, she didn't want him to avoid her.

She was very happy that he treated her like a "normal girl".

She was so happy that she trembled, but still she responded.

"But I don't know what will happen..."

Still, she was afraid to "use" her abilities voluntarily. It could affect the competition and the athletic festival itself. Especially if she hurt someone.

When she shook her head and looked at Yata, Yata coughed, "Oh, I get it.", and turned his back on her.

"No, if you don't like it, no. I'm not trying to force you. But if you're enjoying school life, join us."

"Join..."

"Oh, I'll help you. I'll follow you as much as I can."

"Ah..."

A word spoken without hesitation.

Maybe he wasn't very smart, but he was warm and kind and cool.

Although he looked closely at what she had done, he was able to say it without a small bet.

The masculine side of him was great.

(Oh, I see. I'm so happy!), she thought.

"Yes, thank you. Ordinary competitions are aggressive. Oh, that's right. Let's take first place in class grades, Yata-kun. I'll do my best too. I'll enjoy it!"

Rubbing away the burning dependency, she regained her composure and clenched her fist.

"Let's get the trophy! Yata-kun, you can win right?"

With expectations, she looks directly at him.

Looking back over his shoulder, Yata shook his head with his usual awkward smile.

"Leave it to me."

++++++++++

Sports festival. Joyful cheers filled the playground.

It was an ideal sunny day for a sports festival. The blue sky was tinged with cloudless blue. She was cheerful enough to sweat even if she didn't move.

Without disappointing the expectations of the class, Yata participated in quite a few competitions and was producing good results.

She never tired of looking at Yata, who was running like the wind.

Speaking of not getting tired of looking, Suoh was also looking. He had a completely different attitude than Yata.

What's the point of walking calmly, he wasn't even running? Burning obstacles in an obstacle course? Very surreal.

Kusanagi took a break from the store and came with a large package. She was surprised not to know that. Oh, but the rice balls and omelette were delicious! Why was everyone's lunch box so delicious?

The appearance of installing a video camera on a tripod was like someone's parents, and she laughed with Totsuka.

But it seems like he was filming with a lot of energy, and he really wanted to see it with everyone at HOMRA.

"Next is the final competition. It is an extreme tag team game against special club activities."

That was the announcement that echoed down the hall. She closed the cap on the mineral water she was drinking and hurried back to the cheering seat for the special club activities.

"Oh, come here, Konohana-san."

Totsuka, who noticed her, motioned for her to come with him.

She sat next to him and looked at the executive committee that was cleaning up.

"Speaking of which, I was wondering, but what is extreme etiquette?"

"Hmm? Oh, the one in last place wins the competition."

Eh? What was that? Kill each other or something?

In response to the answer that was diagonally above her expectations, she instinctively looked at Totsuka in confusion.

"Eh?"

What did that mean?

"Specifically, it's a competition where five players from the special club are sent to compete. One of the five is wearing a special club color ribbon. If it is stolen, or if it is undone, if it is burned, if it is cut... Anyway, if they take it out of your head, you will lose."

"Hey..."

"The remaining four people protect the people who are hovering anyway. So, surprisingly, it's a competition where strategy is more important than skill."

"I see. Well, maybe."

"That's right. I'm a bit weak at that. It seems that the blue club has won many championships even in the past. That's because it is controlled like an army."

Sensing what she meant, Totsuka smiled.

That's right, uh...?

"Oh, that? I think the silver club had three members in the first place. But is it a competition where five representatives are selected?"

"Oh, the silver club will not participate. Last year there were fewer people. The silver club just marks the beginning of each year."

Eh? Was that so?

"Oh, hey, does it start?"

Shiro came out with a smile and turned the starter pistol towards the sky.

After a moment, he rang out a loud electronic sound signaling the start of the competition.

The players all began to move at the same time. A great ovation enveloped them.

"No matter how many times I see it, that rabbit is surreal."

"That's right. But Yata will go."

Yata, the commander of the red club unit, rushed straight into the enemy camp.

There was no strategy. Really, it was attacking directly from the front.

Kamamoto and Chitose followed.

Suoh didn't move.

He stood silently and stared at Munakata, the leader of the blue club.

"Ah. okay!"

Everyone around him raised their fists and shouted loudly.

When she turned his gaze towards Yata, Yata also struck a gutsy pose with the best smile. Apparently, he managed to burn the rabbit-faced headband.

He had a cheerful expression. Immediately, he brought his lips together, harbored a fierce flame in his eyes, and plunged into a new enemy.

"......"

She was fascinated with him.

He do not doubt it and challenge from the front, facing the enemy directly.

There was no alteration of the plan, nor any calculation. He didn't even think about winning.

He just believed in himself and his friends, and ran.

His appearance was very stringy.

To her, who had run away from various things, he looked very bright.

She intensely yearned for him.

(Oh, he's amazing. Amazing! Yata-kun is amazing!), she thought.

"The green club, left! The rest are from the red and blue club! This year was also a unique match!"

The announcement heated the place even more.

Then, turning his back on the comment, Yata started running towards the blue club, who was solidifying his defense.

The opponent was the blue club, which is good at tactics and strategy. Involuntarily she breathes, then clasp her hands and pray that Yata won't get hurt and will win.

Yata's hand was engulfed in flames and the members of the blue club held his swords.

Five beautiful leaves that roared in the sunlight.

She was surprised at how sharp they were, she got up and yelled.

"Yata-kun!"

At that moment, Yata's flame swelled tens and hundreds of times. It grew big enough to burn the skies, swelled up like a living being, and attacked the blue club.

"……!"

The blue club took a breath and faced a sudden attack that was completely different from what they expected.

That momentary delay was fatal. The flame burned the headband.

"Ah! Wah?!"

The scorch broke and fell to the ground without a sound.

"The winner is the red club."

Big applause in the hall at the exciting announcement.

Everyone in the red club stood up and raised a voice of joy.

"I did it! Saya-chan! I did it!"

"Yes! You won!"

Everyone clapped and rejoiced.

"Yata-kun! Great!"

"You did it! Yata!"

Kamamoto and Chitose ran towards Yata, who was somewhat confused.

Yata, who was hugged, looked at Suoh for some reason.

For some reason, Suoh and Fushimi were looking at her.

Beside her, who noticed the line of sight and tilted his head, Totsuka put his finger on his chin and narrowed his eyes.

"I see."

#k #k project #gakuen k #novel #yata misaki #fushimi saruhiko #homra #izumo kusanagi #totsuka tatara #saya #anna kushina #kamamoto rikio #reisi munakata #suoh mikoto #scepter 4 #k wonderful school days

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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 4 years

Text

Of Ice and Blood

Part 4

Welcome back! Hope you enjoy✨

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Violence, cursing, shouting, and fighting. No blood mention. Just broken bones and stuff.

2.1k+ words [originally 1.6k but I revised it and added more details!]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5 Part 6

Sensing another one behind me, I went low and struck his leg with mine, using his fall to punch his chin with my right fist this time, being careful to use a controlled amount of force or else the nerve I hit will result to permanent brain injury and can be fatal.

I got up, swift in my actions as I saw the guy with a raised baseball bat heading towards me from my left flank, and the other one from the right, fast.

On reflex, I leaned back, the bat that was aimed at me hitting his comrade on the shoulder instead. Guy's lucky, actually. He would have suffered internal bleeding if it bashed the side of his skull.

Four down, two to go.

I took my stance once again to ready myself. This dude was a foot taller than me, with muscles packed with raw strength, but even so, pale in comparison to Tai'chi's p—

Stop thinking that! Focus!

"Smash her head Dan!" The man behind him yelled.

This 'Dan' went straight to me with his bat raised with intent once more.

Breathe in.

Everything slowed down. I let my heart rate decelerate, my hearing sharpened, my sense of smell heightening even further.

I closed my eyes, letting the rest of my senses take over. Years of practice, days of pain from training, each motion engraved to my entire body with purpose. To defend not only myself, but also those who are looked down upon, discriminated and stepped on like dirt. My parents had always taught me to defend myself. Me. Don't get me wrong, my parents are good people, albeit wary of the other races in our community. But the moment I left the roof of my home, I knew it was time for me to defend someone other than myself. I don't give a damn about where we come from or what kind of blood flows within our veins. I will protect those who need protecting, and set anyone straight and down to the ground when they deserve it.

Breathe out.

At the last few moments, with my eyes still shut, I changed my form. I followed his aura and pictured out the shape that was drawing up to land a serious blow to my head. Dan is solid and heavy, but everyone has at least one weakness. And this guy is not spared from that.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

I opened my right fist, right foot forward and relaxed my arms, my legs serving as a firm foundation for my upper body. With the bat inches away from me, I smoothly dodged to the side, using my palm to push away the hand holding the weapon and punched a vital pressure point right under his bicep.

I bent my legs even lower and struck the center of his ribs with my thumb, closing my hands as I jabbed his sciatic nerve on each side at the same time, both located in the middle line of the thigh between the groin and the knee. A solid blow to those nerve points will cause intense pain and shock to the person, along with a temporary immobility of the feet.

a/n: Self defense 101! Remember that dear readers♥

With the support of my left leg, I went behind the man, standing straight and proud. Calm, I opened my eyes when I heard his fall, staring right into the fearful ones of the moron that started all of this.

"Y-You- You killed them!"

Is he that dumb?

"Correction, I didn't. I knocked them unconscious is all. And the fellow that attacked me first? Well, he passed out from the pain of his now funny-looking arm." I stated flatly as I trudged to where he was standing.

"S-Stay away from me! Monster! Freak!" He stumbled, his ass on the ground and away from me until he felt a tree trunk on his back.

I scoffed and withdrew my knuckle dusters back under my baggy sleeve.

"You wanna know who the real monster is?" I stopped and held him in place with my scrutinizing gaze. He was trembling like a wimp at this point.

"It's you.

"You and your disgusting racist friends.

"You, along with all the people who view and treats anyone other than humankind as lowlifes and pests that are meant to be squished and eradicated from the society.

"No, it's you, and the ones who have the same mentality as you, who are monsters under the guise of a human."

I paused, not even blinking as I bore holes into his skull.

"I am human, down to every inch of my being. But unlike you, I respect and treat everyone, regardless of kind or gender, and to those who deserve it, fair and right."

Before I could continue, I scented new people coming into the scene. It was the teaching staff, along with the uni's guard.

Shocked of what they have seen, they turned towards me, angry, surprised, confused expressions on different faces.

"What have you done?!" A female, human instructor, looking to be around her late 20s shouted.

"Ma'am, if you would just let me explain—"

"You are hereby expelled from this institution, young lady!"

All the color of my skin left me as I heard the words I have dreaded even before I set foot in the campus grounds.

"Now let's not go straight to conclusions. We need to deal with this professionally AND properly Miss Holson. You are also not in authority to suspend this student." A heavily bearded dwarven professor, clad in a brown suit and Oxfords, told her off firmly.

"What are you saying Mr. Dulrik? Look at her! Look at this! She murdered students and oh my God, is that the dean's son?!"

For the love of— she blind? Why does everybody think I killed someone???

"Ma'am they are—" I was about to tell her but got cut off, again!

"Helpmehelpmehelpme!" He scrambled away from me and ran to the group of teachers and hugged the young instructor. "I don't know what came over her! She just attacked us out of nowhere!"

The audacity of this fucking bitch!

"Pardon me? Attacked you? YOU were the one who followed me out here! You and your" —I gestured to the bodies laying flat on the ground— " buddies over there!"

"She is lying! The orc was with her and and and—"

It dawned on me that I almost forgot about Tai'chi. My eyes widened, and I frantically scanned the area around for him. And there he was, standing by the oak tree, right where I told him not to move.

He seemed...irritated?

Oh no. At me?

"I have not moved an inch from where I am standing ever since I planted my feet here." He said with his deep baritone voice, turning to confront the staff. "What she's speaking is the truth. They were the ones who followed her here and attacked her, first."

"And how can we be sure you are telling the truth, orc?" Miss Holson replied spitefully.

Even the teacher, huh? Her odor smells like vomit. I mean, I knew she was...foul, but I thought it was because of the situation. Guess not.

Tai'chi did not respond. Instead, he moved to look at me in the eyes. His gaze, searching, but not in an awful way. Was he asking me what I'll do?

"How about we discuss this in the office, shall we?" An elderly professor spoke. She was wearing the university's formal teaching uniform together with black, flat, closed toe sandals. "And Miss Holson, please quiet down. As Mr. Dulrik said, we should not jump into baseless conclusions."

Miss Holson fumed and shut her mouth, holding the coward in her arms.

"Now then, Miss...?"

"Blackbell."

The woman paused. I caught a smell of surprise and... astonishment?

She cleared her throat "Well, then Miss Blackbell, please follow us to the Dean's office, along with your, companion."

Weird.

"Oh and Mr. Smith, kindly call for assistance and take the unconscious students to the infirmary to be treated and looked unto. Thank you." She told the guard. With that, she and the rest of the faculty started walking back.

I glanced at Tai'chi once more to find him, again, staring. I approached him warily, expecting him to be mad at me.

"Uh. Hi?"

I let out a long exhale when he replied, with a slight tug of his lips, his tusk jutting out. "Hi."

I fidgeted, trying to come up with words to explain myself.

"I uh, uhm. Are you mad?"

With his brow raised, "Why would I be?"

Yeah why would he be?

"I-I never told why I keep wearing my mask." I stuttered, "You see I—"

"You two! Start moving before I force you to." A teacher yelled at us from a distance.

"We'll talk later, Pearl. For now let's get this resolved first. I know for a fact that they won't expel you unless they ignore the ill intentions of the ones who attempted to harm you first. But better be safe than sorry, he was the dean's son afterall."

"Yeah... Thanks. We should.. go." I turned and started walking along his side.

******pov shift for a bit*******

Little did Pearl know, he was thinking about how...nice, yeah that's the word, definitely not sexy, you were when he witnessed your skills in combat. It awakened something in him that it took a lot of control not to get aroused there and then, which was the real reason why he stood there, unmoving from his place. Not once did he leave his eyes from you, almost jumping to help you when the guy with the baseball bat was closer than we would have liked. But oh no, he was not surprised, he was astonished and shookt , amazed when you pulled that last technique, sending the human plummeting to the ground almost soundlessly. And the way you stood right after, he knew he was smitten. That proud and intense aura you gave off was enough to make him bow down at your feet. He could feel it. He could smell it. That was his secret, he can scent people and catch any mood shift they make. Even though he told her that her eyes and brows gave it away, it was not entirely true as he could smell, literally, you and the changes on your scent.

Oh but little did he know you could to. Just not as observant as he is.

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

Wow— when I copy pasted the original thing from my notes to my drafts in Tumblr I was like "okay, so. I should read it AGAIN before I post it if I wanna avoid more unnoticed mistakes and keep editing it again and again even though I posted it already! " And I never though it would lead me to adding almost a half thousand words and a pov shift— which i found interesting and really nice! Should I do it more often? Like little inserts of what Tai'chi or another characters thoughts in second pov in between fics if necessary? It's just, nice, to put them in and write all out about what they were thinking outside of Pearl's pov! Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoyed reading❤

Tags: @kokokatsworld @crackinanutshell

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gacy-lajla · 4 years

Text

karasuno x trans!reader

warnings: accidental and intended misgendering, transphobic comments like twice and probably a curse or two

summary: after outing yourself as a trans man you were forced to live with your uncle Ittetsu Takeda and transfer schools

a/n: heya i’ve been binge watching haikyuu this past month or less (currently through half of season 4) and i just really really wanted to read some content where the reader is transgender!! i’m agender (they/them or he because we don’t have neutral pronouns where i live)

_____

Training started just like always, after a quick warm up everyone got back to improving on their skills. The team worked like clockwork as they practised as a group – of course not leaving out a little banter here and there. Coach Ukai was currently talking outside with Takeda which was nothing too out of the ordinary. The team was used to depend on themselves and coordinate accordingly. What they didn’t expect was for the two absentees to enter with a third person again. You. Tanaka and Nishinoya were the first to react, curiosity making the served ball drop.

“Is that a new manager?” Nishinoya’s eyes lit up as he took in the figure of the new person – Karasuno sure was lucky in that regard, it seemed.

“She looks cute, but not as cute as our Kiyoko!”, Tanaka added in, standing next to the Libero.

The other players attention was on you shortly after, taking your presence in before Sugawara scolded the two friends for being distracted that easily and to keep their eyes on the ball. They were about to resume when Takeda called for everyone’s attention. Quickly gathering around the coach, the teacher and the newcomer they bowed their heads in greeting, just as you did.

Harshly giving you two pats on your left shoulder blade Ukai made you step forward with himself, giving you a reassuring smile in the process. You rubbed your cold hands together, nervousness taking over your body as all eyes were now set on you. Catching on quickly the man introduced you to the team himself.

“Everyone, this is (y/n), a third year. He recently transferred to this school and will be joining our team from now on, I expect you to be respectful towards him.”

You bowed again giving a small “pleased to meet you”, thankful that Ukai spared you of making a fool out of yourself by tripping over your own words. After that you got a short introduction from everyone, trying your best to remember their names immediately but that wasn’t really your forte so you just told yourself you’d pay attention to the others calling each other’s names.

After that you warmed yourself up to join them in the actual training. During that time you couldn’t help but listen in on some of the conversations as there wasn’t much else to focus on.

“Isn’t that a girl? Why is she training with the boys?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t it be better if she just joined the girl’s training?”

“I heard that she’s actually a he.”

You didn’t pay attention to who was talking – they seemed not to be part of the volleyball club – but it sure hit you in the most vulnerable of all places. Just until recently you had been playing with the girls from your former school. You actually transferred because, after coming out as trans, you have been excluded from any gendered club activities as the authority was unsure about how to handle a case such as yourself. There were also some actions inside of school which convinced you that your former school was not the ideal place for you to stay at. Not only that but your parents sent you to stay with your uncle – Ittetsu Takeda – because obviously you were ungrateful towards them. Not that you really mind, he’s much nicer and way more understanding – well, still in the process of understanding, but at least he’s trying his best, which was nice.

“It’s weird calling someone with boobs ‘he’.”

Your jog slowed down, your mind trying to focus on suppressing tears that threatened to appear. Taking a deep breath you gained some tempo again before taking a stop next to the coach again.

“I think I’ve warmed up enough, am I supposed to just… join them?”

Ukai nodded so you continued to walk towards the line waiting to receive their spikes. In your old team you didn’t really have a set position, rotating it around inside the group as the sport wasn’t taken too seriously. Though opponents were cautious of you every time you went out on an attack you had to admit that you had more fun in a defensive position, receiving the ball was one of the best feelings you could imagine while playing on the field. But when it came to skill you would probably be considered an all-rounder.

It didn’t take long until it was your turn to hit the ball – two setters being present making progress like clockwork. You got a pass from a grey haired boy, Sugawara if you remembered correctly. It was easy to remember him, he just had a sweet aura about him which made it easy to remember his name. The moment the ball hit your hand and the ground on the opposite side of the net immediately after, silence befell the room. The Libero didn’t manage to get the ball by a hairs width. Turning towards the setter you nervously played with your hands.

“Could you try to pass the ball a little higher next time? I might not be the tallest person but I can jump pretty high.”

After a brief silence a smile flashed on his face – which you immediately returned -, giving you a thumbs up. “Sure!”

Moving out of the way a boy about your height came up to you, looking at you with bright and sparkling eyes. You didn’t remember his name but you were quite sure he was a first year.

“Can you show me how you did that? When did you learn that?”

You were stunned into silence for a second, wondering what he could possibly mean. He must’ve meant your spike, right? You’ve noticed that they tended to spike their balls quite far which you didn’t – a force of habit since in your old team your teammates struggled to get the ball higher up most of the time. Rubbing the back of your neck nervously you chuckled a bit.

“Well, my old team didn’t really have a setter that managed to keep the ball at the perfect height every time so I had to adapt, I guess? So when I jump too high I just try to get the ball on the other side as close to the net as possible. It took me some time not to touch the net in the process but with enough training it just happens less frequently.”

“Woah, that’s so cool! Do you mind staying after training so you can show me, please?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

After that you got quite comfortable with Sugawara’s sets which never seemed to falter. It finally felt like you were playing volleyball with people who shared the same enthusiasm as yourself which was a nice change. After a few more turns everyone was gathered again. The coach announce that you’d be playing one set before packing up for the day.

The opposing team consisted of Daichi, Sugawara, Tanaka, Kinoshita, Hinata, Yamaguchi and Nishinoya. You were teamed up with Asahi, Ennoshita, Narita, Kageyama and Tsukishima. To be honest, you really hoped you’d end up with the setter you’ve been training with already but that wishful thinking should apparently be denied. You wondered if the coach did it on purpose because he noticed you avoiding the other setter until now? Whatever it was there was no time to complain, not that you actually would.

You started in the back left – thankfully not serving the ball as you struggled most with it. You always made little mistakes, if it was throwing the ball too high or too low, but most commonly not noticing that you stepped over the line. Yes, when you hit the ball you usually hit it hard but if it didn’t reach the other side of the net or flew into the out there was no use to it.

The whistle ripped you out of your thoughts, focusing on the game. Yamaguchi had the first serve. It seemed like the ball was heading straight for Ennoshita next to you but in the last moment it drifted off to the side towards you. Noticing this you quickly sprang into action, diving for the ball. Despite managing to touch it there was no way of it to be saved, the first point going to the opposite team. That had to be a jump float serve! Impressed you looked at the boy breathing a quiet ‘woah’ before resuming your position. Ennoshita turned toward you as well.

“You react quick, I’m sure we’ll get the next one!”

You smiled at him, nodding.

The next serve was easier to react to as Yamaguchi failed to hit the ball right, resulting in Ennoshita successfully receiving. Next thing you knew your teams setter passed the ball towards the guy with the ponytail in front of you, spiking the ball with confidence only to be received by Daichi.

“Good spike!”, you cheered the guy in front of you, receiving a shy ‘thanks’ in return.

The other team struggled a little with the received ball, the second touch not reaching the setter resulting in a successful block from the tall blonde with the glasses, earning your first point. Encouraging words were exchanged and your team rotated its players clockwise, you now standing in the front left, ponytail standing to your right and Ennoshita behind you, Narita having the next serve. His hit seemed a little unstable but ended up rolling over the net, earning you yet another point.

His next serve seemed more intentional but was easily received by Daichi once more, passing the ball to Sugawara who set the ball nicely for Tanaka, but the tall blonde managed to touch the ball taking a direct course towards Narita once again who passed the ball towards your setter. You took the opportunity to run forward, either receiving the ball or distracting the other players – you assumed that he’d play to the ponytail guy again since the middle blocker was smaller by a few heads and thus less likely to block the ball. Sugawara, opposite of you, kept you covered, not joining the small redhead. And just as you predicted ponytail got the ball. What took you a little by surprise was the height the first year student reached, he was easily on par with you. But that didn’t help as a point was scored nonetheless.

The game went on, a head to head game. Your team had 12 points while the opponents had 14. You had scored none of the points, the setter not having played once in your direction. It bugged you, yes, but you also tried to be mindful. You’ve never had any interaction with that guy so it would be hard for both of you to get used to one another, possibly making you lose more points than you would gain.

You nervously fiddled with the volleyball in your hands. It was time for your first serve and your gut was telling you something really bad was about to happen. You’d definitely screw this one up. You really wished you’d practised your serves a little more now. If you didn’t jump you probably wouldn’t be able to score at all because you knew from experience that your standing serves always ended in home runs. Gulping down whatever was blocking your airway the moment you heard the whistle you took a deep breath before throwing the ball. Taking a few quick steps you jumped, dread filling you the moment you hit the ball with all of your might. It wouldn’t be high enough.

Oh no.

A loud thud was heard and the person in front of you stumbled a little forward, holding the back of his head before falling to his knees. Panicked you rushed towards the setter, the looming silence making you wince with every squeaky step you took.

“I’m so, so incredibly sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t mean to hit you like that-”

You cut yourself off the moment the dark haired setter whipped his head around and glared at you. Taking a few steps back others rushed to his side, helping him up asking if he was alright. Reassuring them that he was alright everyone went back to their positions, albeit reluctantly. And not like this situation was humiliating enough already, the moment the coach spoke up you really wanted to be swallowed by the ground.

“(y/n), you stepped over the line.”

You felt your soul leave your body, Asahi, now to your left tried to assure you that everything was alright. But for the rest of the game you didn’t dare call out for the ball once, not having scored once in the end despite winning by a narrow margin. You really feel like you’ve fucked up this one.

After cleaning up you quickly threw on a sweater to keep yourself warm. You were about to call out to you uncle to wait for you when something quick made you stop abruptly. It was Hinata.

“Do you still don’t mind showing me that spike you did? It was really awesome and I want to see it again!”

_______

a/n: thank you for reading! I’m not sure how i want to continue this, i might just turn this into one overall thing with no focus on one character (i’d probably write something similar for other schools as well) or i might split off from here so there would be different ‘routes’ (also including other schools! as in karasuno reader and kuroo, bokuto, akaashi or whoever)

feedback regarding this would be nice :0 have a nice morning, day, evening or night <3

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athenawrites-stuff · 4 years

Text

Of Ice and Blood

Part 4

Pairings: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Violence, Fighting, Use of curse words, and shouting.

Word count: 1.8k + words

I got up, swift in my actions as I saw the guy with a raised baseball bat heading towards me from my left flank, and the other one from the right, fast.

On reflex, I leaned back, the bat that was aimed at me hitting his comrade on the shoulder instead. Guy’s lucky, actually. He would have suffered internal bleeding if it bashed the side of his skull.

Four down, two to go.

I took my stance once again to ready myself. This dude was a foot taller than me, with muscles packed with raw strength, but even so, pale in comparison to Tai'chi’s p—

Stop thinking that! Focus!

“Smash her head Dan!” The man behind him yelled.

This ‘Dan’ went straight to me with his bat raised with intent once more.

Breathe in.

Everything slowed down. I let my heart rate decelerate, my hearing sharpened, my sense of smell heightening even further.

I closed my eyes, letting the rest of my senses take over. Years of practice, days of pain from training, each motion engraved to my entire body with purpose. To defend not only myself, but also those who are looked down upon, discriminated and stepped on like dirt. My parents had always taught me to defend myself. Me. Don’t get me wrong, my parents are good people, albeit wary of the other races in our community. But the moment I left the roof of my home, I knew it was time for me to defend someone other than myself. I don’t give a damn about where we come from or what kind of blood flows within our veins. I will protect those who need protecting, and set anyone straight and down to the ground when they deserve it.

Breathe out.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

a/n: Self defense 101! Remember that dear readers♥

“Y-You- You killed them!”

Is he that dumb?

“Correction, I didn’t. I knocked them unconscious is all. And the fellow that attacked me first? Well, he passed out from the pain of his now funny-looking arm.” I stated flatly as I trudged to where he was standing.

“S-Stay away from me! Monster! Freak!” He stumbled, his ass on the ground and away from me until he felt a tree trunk on his back.

I scoffed and withdrew my knuckle dusters back under my baggy sleeve.

“You wanna know who the real monster is?” I stopped and held him in place with my scrutinizing gaze. He was trembling like a wimp at this point.

“It’s you.

"You and your disgusting racist friends.

"You, along with all the people who view and treats anyone other than humankind as lowlifes and pests that are meant to be squished and eradicated from the society.

"No, it’s you, and the ones who have the same mentality as you, who are monsters under the guise of a human.”

I paused, not even blinking as I bore holes into his skull.

“I am human, down to every inch of my being. But unlike you, I respect and treat everyone, regardless of kind or gender, and to those who deserve it, fair and right.”

Before I could continue, I scented new people coming into the scene. It was the teaching staff, along with the uni’s guard.

Shocked of what they have seen, they turned towards me, angry, surprised, confused expressions on different faces.

“What have you done?!” A female, human instructor, looking to be around her late 20s shouted.

“Ma'am, if you would just let me explain—”

“You are hereby expelled from this institution, young lady!”

All the color of my skin left me as I heard the words I have dreaded even before I set foot in the campus grounds.

“Now let’s not go straight to conclusions. We need to deal with this professionally AND properly Miss Holson. You are also not in authority to suspend this student.” A heavily bearded dwarven professor, clad in a brown suit and Oxfords, told her off firmly.

“What are you saying Mr. Dulrik? Look at her! Look at this! She murdered students and oh my God, is that the dean’s son?!”

For the love of— she blind? Why does everybody think I killed someone???

“Ma'am they are—” I was about to tell her but got cut off, again!

“Helpmehelpmehelpme!” He scrambled away from me and ran to the group of teachers and hugged the young instructor. “I don’t know what came over her! She just attacked us out of nowhere!”

The audacity of this fucking bitch!

“Pardon me? Attacked you? YOU were the one who followed me out here! You and your” —I gestured to the bodies laying flat on the ground— “ buddies over there!”

“She is lying! The orc was with her and and and—”

It dawned on me that I almost forgot about Tai'chi. My eyes widened, and I frantically scanned the area around for him. And there he was, standing by the oak tree, right where I told him not to move.

He seemed…irritated?

Oh no. At me?

“I have not moved an inch from where I am standing ever since I planted my feet here.” He said with his deep baritone voice, turning to confront the staff. “What she’s speaking is the truth. They were the ones who followed her here and attacked her, first.”

“And how can we be sure you are telling the truth, orc?” Miss Holson replied spitefully.

Even the teacher, huh? Her odor smells like vomit. I mean, I knew she was…foul, but I thought it was because of the situation. Guess not.

Tai'chi did not respond. Instead, he moved to look at me in the eyes. His gaze, searching, but not in an awful way. Was he asking me what I’ll do?

“How about we discuss this in the office, shall we?” An elderly professor spoke. She was wearing the university’s formal teaching uniform together with black, flat, closed toe sandals. “And Miss Holson, please quiet down. As Mr. Dulrik said, we should not jump into baseless conclusions.”

Miss Holson fumed and shut her mouth, holding the coward in her arms.

“Now then, Miss…?”

“Blackbell.”

The woman paused. I caught a smell of surprise and… astonishment?

She cleared her throat “Well, then Miss Blackbell, please follow us to the Dean’s office, along with your, companion.”

Weird.

“Oh and Mr. Smith, kindly call for assistance and take the unconscious students to the infirmary to be treated and looked unto. Thank you.” She told the guard. With that, she and the rest of the faculty started walking back.

I glanced at Tai'chi once more to find him, again, staring. I approached him warily, expecting him to be mad at me.

“Uh. Hi?”

I let out a long exhale when he replied, with a slight tug of his lips, his tusk jutting out. “Hi.”

I fidgeted, trying to come up with words to explain myself.

“I uh, uhm. Are you mad?”

With his brow raised, “Why would I be?”

Yeah why would he be?

“I-I never told why I keep wearing my mask.” I stuttered, “You see I—”

“You two! Start moving before I force you to.” A teacher yelled at us from a distance.

“We’ll talk later, Pearl. For now let’s get this resolved first. I know for a fact that they won’t expel you unless they ignore the ill intentions of the ones who attempted to harm you first. But better be safe than sorry, he was the dean’s son afterall.”

“Yeah… Thanks. We should.. go.” I turned and started walking along his side.

******pov shift for a bit*******

Little did Pearl know, he was thinking about how…nice, yeah that’s the word, definitely not sexy, you were when he witnessed your skills in combat. It awakened something in him that it took a lot of control not to get aroused there and then, which was the real reason why he stood there, unmoving from his place. Not once did he leave his eyes from you, almost jumping to help you when the guy with the baseball bat was closer than we would have liked. But oh no, he was not surprised, he was astonished and shookt , amazed when you pulled that last technique, sending the human plummeting to the ground almost soundlessly. And the way you stood right after, he knew he was smitten. That proud and intense aura you gave off was enough to make him bow down at your feet. He could feel it. He could smell it. That was his secret, he can scent people and catch any mood shift they make. Even though he told her that her eyes and brows gave it away, it was not entirely true as he could smell, literally, you and the changes on your scent.

Oh but little did he know you could to. Just not as observant as he is.

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

Thank you for reading<3

I've already written Chapters 1-6 so stay tuned and check them out in my pinned post. Stay safe and healthy!

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oh-theatre · 4 years

Text

Livin’ It Up: Chapter 2

Chapter title: To Build it Up and Break It Down

A/N: IMMMM BACCCCK!! Loook i know this chapter is stupid! and it sucks! But its finished and like actually here! Also!! the whole thing about Logan having no feelings and hating them is not what it reads as and im not trying to fall into that cliche!! But youll have to keep reading!!

words: 2682

summary: Patton finds himself allowing a slight detour in his plan and allows himself one night to...explore. He wont be doing that again.

pairings: Eventual logicality, eventual prinxiety, eventual demus, eventual Moceit (Which then goes back to Logicality and Demus)

warnings: Swearing, alcohol, underage drinking, drinking, parties, kissing, throw up, slight self harm, emotional abuse

Ao3 Link

“He kissed me!” Virgil cries, Patton kicks him softly from under the table. “He kissed me” He whispers once more, shushing his words. Apologetic glances to the people around him and Patton looks back to his friend.

“We are in the library” Patton eyes, Virgil shrugs but nods returning to his doodles he calls work. Patton finishes his work, packing up neatly each and every aspect of his belonging. Panic sets into once he realizes Pattons finished his work and is now preparing for leisurely reading whilst Virgil hadn't even begun. “Virge, I love you but if you don't hurry up or make a plan I'm leaving”

“You're going to leave anyway, you have cheer” Virgil mutters, rushing through his work. Patton sighs, he squeezes his friends hand before quickly leaving him alone. Once settled on the bus his pockets buzz gently.

“Patton!” He greets, he ruffles through some of his things as he gets off the vehicle, thanking the driver kindly. He walks into the school he had become ever so familiar with after all these years. He watched as the sports team made their way out to practice on the field and found his path into the locker rooms as he listened to yet another telemarketing call. He hated them sure, but he felt guilty hanging up. Especially when it was just spoken by a real human, so he listens, nodding along until they go through the niceties and say goodbye with awkward persistence. Finally changed and in his navy blue uniform, he approaches the field. Instantly he's greeted by his friends, giddy jumps as they babble on about whatever they can muster.

He allows the team to get set up, run out their talk before calling attention forward. He ignores the rampant football team that plays behind them. Though they reserved the field Patton allowed them to use it for practice.

“Alright squad! Listen up!” He claps, a cheery grin and catching his pom poms from his friend Fiona, it begins

~~~

“I simply do not understand” Logan huffs, simply bundling himself tighter into his jacket. He follows a sweaty Roman out of the boys room, as he waves goodbye to his fellow teammates they make their way home. “Why must I have attended this practice?” Logan inquires

“Because you need to get out of the house, fresh air, you can't be huddled all day drinking away until your dad gets here” Roman explains, they stop at his locker on the way back through the school, the sounds of giggling call his attention but both continue with themselves.

“My father returning is truly not the optimal circumstance” He sighs but shrugs, puling out a small bottle from his pocket he takes a swig before a disappointed Roman snatches it away from him. They swivel and resume their trail before a quick crash decides to tumble things down. “Ah apologies” Logan decides before even looking, but his eyes dart and land his eyes on the top of a bouncy and bountiful head of hair, a sweet blushed bow and when the boy looks up he meets his eyes through his round rimmed glasses.

“You going to help?” Roman whispers, nudging his friend adamantly. Logan furrows his brows. “Obviously not” Logan continues staring, they stand frozen while Patton reestablishes himself. “Sorry Pat” The cheerleader finds Romans eyes, “-On...Patton” An awkward moment before someone taps behind Patton.

“Right well, I have to go” Patton shuffles awkwardly, his deep blue uniform fitting him comfortably. Why Logan was eyeing him was a different topic. He begins to walk away but Logan decides he’s not finished, taking his arm with a quick snap as Patton pulls away “Yes?” Logan continues his scan, a smirk.

“Go out with me”

“Cute!” Patton giggles before his somber tone returns “Bye now” he rolls his eyes, Roman can’t help but snicker, clutching to the lockers as he regains his breath. Logan scowls as he watches the man walk away, he decides to abandon his friend and follow Patton.

“Why not?” He questions, skidding in front of him. Patton, though taken aback, nods. “Give me a good reason as to why you wont entertain my company for a night?” Logan pushes. Patton adjusts his glasses, putting away his folders he clears his throat.

“You want one? Ill give you about a million” Patton smiles “First off, even if i was interested I have about a million things to do. I never have a moment off and I'm not so sure I want to spend my only freetime with you” Patton admits, why did that hurt Logan.

“Awe, that hurt” Logan hides

“Moreno im not stupid, I’ve seen how you work around here” Patton scoffs, he checks his phone, quickly replying to many messages. “You're charming! And honestly...kinda cute” Patton smirks, his small freckles dance upon his cheeks. “But i'm not a one night stand kind of guy” He shrugs

“Well, what if that's not what I want to do” Logan proposes, he pulls out his notepad scribbling done something before tearing a carefully neat crease and handing it to Patton. “You'll never know, if you don't give it a chance”

“I don't have time to give it a chance” Patton refuses the paper and decides the conversation has concluded. Logan flicks the note anyway, watching it land perfectly into his bag pocket. This satisfies him, now...to Roman.

~~~

“He asked you out?” Virgil inquires walking alongside Patton to their lockers.

“Eleven times” Patton sighs reaching his locker, he opens it up groaning at the sound of his phone. “Make that twelve” He looks to delete the message but quickly giggles. Virgil looks over his shoulder, quickly looking back as he meets Romans eyes and decides against it. “I have dance today” Patton notes, scribbling neatly in his planner, Virgil nods, squeezing his shoulder for luck as he walks away. “Tap shoes, tap shoes, tap shoes” He mutters searching through his bad waltzing into the auditorium.

“Morning Pat!” He looks up smiling as he greets the students. Walking backstage he fits his shoes on, tying his jacket around his waist.

“Alright students!” The teacher calls over the sound of the children warming up, Patton being the TA goes around checking on everyone and helping them out. He works with some students, holding them up as they work through his warm up. “Alright today's plan is partnering up and working through your partner dance!” Patton waits for everyone to partner up, going to the teacher. “Oh good, Patton, this is Logan Moreno, hes new but hes going to be your partner”

“What?” Patton turns, a smug Logan stands his hand extended and his feet ready. “Delightful” He sighs, he takes Logans hand and waits for the music. Once it begins he leads, and shockingly….Logan can dance. “Where’d you learn how to tap?”

“My mother wanted me to have a plethora of skills, so dance” He replies, spinning Patton in a quick circle. They dance around the room, Patton laughs as the routine moves, Logan feels a genuine rise in him as the smile flashes on the bright eyed boy's face. “Pretty…” He breathes

“What?” Patton wonders, they slow and close the gap between them. A slow dance as their taps echo carefully. “You're not bad” Patton compliments, Logans never heard it sound so genuine.

“Thank you, although you're quite advanced” Logan notes.

“I've been dancing since I was two years old” Patton epxlains, cheering the class while they take a break. “Ballet’s next” He notes, changing his shoes, Logan flicks his hands away helping him tie the bows. “Thank you” Logan helps him up.

“Go out with me” Logan inquires, Patton chuckles. He hadn't realized they had begun a slow waltz around the room. The space between them closes further, Patton doesn't quite mind the proximity. A quick spin before Logan pulls the boy back in. “If you say no, Ill stop”

“I doubt that” Pattons been here long enough, he heard the horror stories. “You're charming, I won't lie, but I'm not a shop and drop kinda person” Patton fiddles with Logans hand, they seperate landing on their own squares. He begins his pirouettes, focusing on a specific spot. Logan comes behind him, taking him by the waist as he dips perfectly.

“Give me a simple chance, Sorian” Logan begs “Im being serious about this, I don't typically pursue but...there's something I want to explore” Patton finds it sweet, his breath gasping on his neck definitely trying to persuade him.

But he wasn't someone's pawn, and he certainly wasn't trial run.

“I'm not going to be your test dummy” He pulls away, why did this spark excitement in Logan. A quick twirl before they finish their dance, a slow dip before they stand face to face. A smirk from Logan. “However, there is a carnival on friday, I plan to attend...should you be there...” Patton trails off, suggestive glance. Logan nods with quite an understanding, the bell rings and through Patton's rare impulsivity he places a gentle kiss on Logans cheek before he's onto his next class.

“Ill pick you up at eight” He calls, Patton rolls his eyes.

Subtle

~~~

“Well well well, look at you all dressed up!” Virgil mocks from Patton's bed. His fingers tap violently on his console. Patton rolls his eyes playfully, brushing off his outfit. His flower printed shirt complimenting a simple pastel overalls. His legs, though exposed, were warmed by socks.

“Super cute” Patton claps “Ugh, remind me to thank Remus when he calls next” Patton requests, Virgil shoots a thumbs up focusing more on his game. He really went all out, he missed the more chaotic of the twins but alas a parents choice isn't always something he could understand.

“Virge what do you want for dinner?” Patton's dad knocks, leaning into the room. “I can whip up some mac and cheese” Virgil smiles delighted, nodding at the delicious prospect. “Peaches you look great” He moves his attention to his son, the boy giving him a thankful stare. “You be careful ok? Text me when you're on your way home” A nod confirms it and it's just the friends once more.

“Are you sure I can sleep over?” Virgil throws his console to the end of the bed, grunts as he loses. Patton laughs, turning to his friend.

“V, of course” Patton lays on the bed, his back sore from practice. “Never are you not welcome here ok?” his phone buzzes, drawing attention to his home screen. His smile sinks, his two fathers smile bright while he sits a giggling baby in the middle chewing on his dad's tie. Virgil continues playing and the quiet game noises bring Patton back.

Logan: I have arrived at your place of residence

Patton couldn't help but smirk, he really did come to pick him up.

Patton: Ill be out in a moment

Logan: Wonderful, its cold so bring a coat

Patton: Thank you channel five, weather report

“Alright gloom, I'm out, see you later” a peace sign as his farewell and Pattons out and ready.

~~~

“Where were you?” Logan blinks as he enters his apartment, setting his coat away. His father stands in the den, disappointed. When was he not? Seems like the man had finally reached home, no doubt his private jet was stalling on the roof ready to whisk him away just as soon as he lectured Logan.

“Madrid, it took longer than expected, but I picked up some spanish” Logan retorts, the amusings were not met well by his father. “At the school's carnival with a friend” He admits, a bored sigh. Everything was so straight forward with his father, nothing ever sparked Logan with excitement.

“I expect you to be home, ready to greet me and tell me of your school life when I return from a trip. Then promptly go to sleep. Not out with a…friend” He snipes. Logan groans slouching as walks, or at least attempts to walk by his father. Hes exhausted and truly wishes the elation of his night wouldn't be tarnished by his father's own wishes.

But of course when did Logan ever get to do things of free will or without the rest of the few seconds dictated and planned out

“Logan Moreno you will stop right there, you will not be going on any more outings, and tomorrow at seven am sharp you will be ready to meet with my sales team to discuss opportunities. A short lunch then you will meet with my associate planner, and from there you will spend as much time as he wants discussing what you will do once you graduate” He finishes, not a breath wasted, or energy. “Goodnight Logan” he disappears into the shadowy darkness of the house leaving a sickly feeling in his son.

Once the house settles and he hears his father locked away in his office for the night, Logan on an impulse grabs an almost empty bottle of the vodka and stuffs it into his jacket pocket before retiring to his room for a night of sickly drinking, binge watching tv until his boredom reaches a peak of exhaustion. His eyelids close and the world sinks into a void of vast expanse where his pain feels numb.

~~~

“It was actually sweet Virge” Patton swoons, stabbing at his salad for another delectable bite. Virgil gleams at his friend, the actual happiness is undeniable. “I know its stupid and I know im defintely falling into his trap but...i dont know” Patton sighs

“Maybe theres something there” Virgil proposes, watching his eyes gaze over to a confident Roman, flexing at a table a few miles away. “Maybe hes serious?”

“Guess we’ll find out” He shrugs, mid bite he stops feeling his phone buzz. He checks dropping his food quickly. “Crap! I forgot I had a council meeting” He rushes to pack his things, giving Virgil a little pat on the head much to his friends' amusement. “See you!”

Maybe Logan was messing with his mind, he couldnt remember where the meeting was being held. God, he wishes he had written it down.

“You're the president Patton” he scolds himself racing through the metal halls lined with lockers. Science room or Astrology...he paces. He decides a fifty/fifty chance won't matter, he’ll just end up in an empty classroom or late for his own meeting. He chooses the astrology door, texting rapidly at his phone with severe apologies, the door creaks open but its not an empty room. “Oh! I'm so-” He begins finding he's interrupted a couple and a rather...steamy encounter. But his embarrassment quickly fades and turns to anger.

“Mind closing the door?” Cynthia, Patton recognizes from the cheer team, requests. Her arms and legs wrapped tightly around Logan. He wipes at his lips turning to face Patton. The teen expects some kind of remorse, some kind of apologetic look but his eyes are glazed over. Bored with the world, devoid of emotion.

“Door...please” He basically recites. Patton takes a quick breath, a smile creeps upon his face.

“Of course, pardon the interruption” He apologizes. He may have slammed the door harder than necessary but his fuming was visible. “I will not cry, im ok” He promises, clutching deeply at his palms, feeling his nails pierce the skin.

“Patton! There you are sunshine!” Greta laughs popping her head out of the science room. “Come on! Meetings chaos without you” She beams, motioning him in.

“Coming” He mumbles weakly, one more breath and his smile returns to his face. Plastered. He puts Logan out of his mind, and begins his speech. Completely unaware of the screaming that engulfed Logan's brain. Seeing Patton shouldn't have hit him so deep, but a punch to his gut and a sickly feeling.

What was this?

As the teen walked away feeling shameful for what the planets had seen, he catches a quick glimpse of the cheerleader leading the meeting through the door.

Feelings?

Disgusting…

A genuine smile flashes across Pattons face

Do it again...

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vex-bittys · 4 years

Text

Flufftober 2020: Day Seven

Prompt: Dancing

Pairing: Horrortale Skelebros

Category: Familial

----------

It was so strange. Without the pressing need to scavenge for any scrap of food that they could get their hands on, the skeleton brothers who’d escaped from the Horrortale universe found themselves with an abundance of free time and no idea how to fill it. Axe appreciated the down time, but Crooks believed that he and his brother needed activities to burn off their excess magic and calm Axe’s nagging mania.

Cooking classes were out of the question; the skeleton brothers still saw food as something sacred. It tempted fate to use it for creative pursuits, and the two skeletons would never truly lose their paranoia of losing it. Crooks preferred something relaxing but with motion and beauty, something that embodied everything that their Underground had lacked. Axe agreed with anything that brought a smile to his brother’s face, so they decided to try dancing.

A few internet searches pointed the pair of skeletons to weekly Latin dance lessons at the local community center. Crooks stared in excitement at the photos on the community center webpage. The dancers wore vibrant outfits and their movements embodied powerful emotion. Most importantly, Crooks felt that his extremely long limbs could be tamed into the graceful positions and elegant expressions of the dance.

Axe and Crooks signed up for the classes immediately, and Crooks’ excitement only grew as their first session drew near. The tall skeleton bounced in place as Axe opened the door to the community center gymnasium. The murmur of conversation trailed off as every eye in the room, all of them both curious and human, turned to the monsters in their midst. The humans closest to Crooks shrank away in fear, and one woman shrieked before clapping both of her hands over her mouth to silence herself.

Axe was no stranger to fear and revulsion. In the Underground and here on the Surface, everyone he met, human and monster, viewed his broken skull and ragged red eyelight with blatant uneasiness and poorly disguised disgust. He expected it, and it didn’t really bother him anymore. One look at Crooks’ distraught features told Axe that his brother was bothered by it… a lot.

Suddenly, Axe saw enemies, threats, danger. His mind quickly grew crowded with confused thoughts that he couldn’t untangle, and this reality became jumbled with his former life in the Underground. Crooks grabbed his arm, hastily mumbled apologies, and backed out of the room as Axe’s one working eyelight expanded and began to glow.

“COME ALONG BROTHER,” the gentle giant coaxed his brother in a soothing voice. Still gathering his thoughts, Axe followed Crooks out of the community center building building and away from the judgmental dance students. It took him hours to settle his mind and react appropriately to the situation.

“stupid humans act like they’ve never seen a skeleton before. they’ve got a skeleton inside ‘em all the time, but the sight of one still sets ‘em off, screaming and carryin’ on,” Axe ranted.

“I FRIGHTEN THEM, BROTHER. I AM VERY TALL, AND MY TEETH ARE QUITE STARTLING IN APPEARANCE,” Crooks argued though he secretly felt ashamed and embarrassed by the whole debacle.

“yer perfect, bro, and they can shove their dumb prejudices up their fleshy-” Axe proceeded to explain in exceptionally graphic detail exactly what the humans should (but were probably physically unable to) do with their opinions of Crooks.

Though the incident at the community center left him crestfallen, Crooks appreciated his brother’s quick defense of him. Even if nobody else liked him, he knew he could trust Axe to have his best interests at heart. He just needed to figure out a different hobby, preferably one that didn’t involve interacting with humans.

Axe refused to let the matter drop though. He didn’t mention it to his brother, but he spent a great deal of time researching Latin dance instructors in their area. One by one, he contacted them about lessons for self-conscious monsters. He doubted he could lure Crooks to another class, but perhaps he could learn the dance steps and instruct Crooks himself? He remembered the expression on Crooks’ face when they’d first discovered Latin dance, and that image drove him on until he found a teacher.

The wizened woman had once danced professionally, and she had retired from her days both as a professional and an instructor, a fact which she explained to Axe over the phone right before she hung up on him. Most of the potential teachers waited until he mentioned being a monster with a grotesque head injury before turning him down. Retired, he could deal with. He contacted her again, telling her in one babbling rush about Crooks and the community center incident.

The other end of the phone line was silent, but he didn’t hear a dial tone, only the weight of unspoken consideration. “And he won’t come to classes?” the elderly woman asked.

“”he’s very self-conscious already,” explained Axe, “an’ after what happened, he’s reluctant t’ go out in public again.”

“Understandable. I expect you to be at my studio at 8 am sharp.”

Punctuality never mattered much to Axe, but every single day he showed up promptly at 8 o’clock in the morning for his private dance lessons. The focus needed to learn the complex steps helped him calm his often tumultuous mind, and he found himself truly enjoying each dance that he learned. There were many to learn, it turned out. Latin dance was a style of dancing, not just one set of dance steps, and it included many different dance types.

After months of intensive lessons, Axe could samba and mambo with the best of them, and his paso doble had been declared passable! Thankfully, his instructor also made him practice teaching the steps. When she finally declared him ready, she also challenged him to convince Crooks to visit the studio because flamenco (the style of dance that mesmerized him the most) required an expertise to teach that Axe couldn’t develop in a short amount of time.

She also asked him an important question: Had he been able to find an outfit for Crooks (who absolutely adored the dresses worn in Latin dances) in his very unusual size. Axe hadn’t considered clothing, and admitted this to the kindly older woman. She nodded; his answer didn’t surprise her. Fortunately, in addition to being a talented dancer, she possessed some decent skills as a seamstress and had designed all of her own competition costumes.

With Crooks’ estimated measurements in hand, the woman promised to have something ready in time for Axe’s surprise at the end of the month. Axe warned her not to overwork herself, but excitement over doing something kind for Crooks was apparently extremely contagious. When the instructor showed him her sketches the next day, Axe’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. These dresses were everything Crooks could ever want and more, all saturated fire tones and ruffles that would echo and accentuate every movement of Crooks’ body.

The woman refused all of Axe’s offers of money, saying that she wanted to see Crooks happy more than she needed cash. After all, she pointed out, she was retired and no longer taking on paying clients. Over the course of their lessons, she had come to consider Axe, and by extension, Crooks, to be friends.

Axe snuck the garment bag into his brother’s room while Crooks was busy doing magic exercises. With the costume stealthily delivered, Axe went downstairs and approached his brother. “remember how you wanted t’ learn Latin dancing?” he asked Crooks; if you asked Axe about subtly, he would’ve guessed it was a hot beverage.

Crooks tensed instantly, remembering the woman who had screamed at the sight of him. “NO, NO. THAT’S ALRIGHT. I DON’T WANT TO MAKE PEOPLE UNCOMFORTABLE. I DON’T WANT THEM TO BE SCARED OF ME,” the last words came out softly, as quiet as Crooks’ voice ever sounded.

“lucky for you then: i took some classes myself. got you an outfit n’ everything. i can teach you myself now.” Axe smiled proudly. Crooks stood frozen for a moment then swept Axe up into his arms, spinning him around. As soon as he set Axe back on his feet, he dashed upstairs, and Axe heard his gasps of wonder when he saw the custom-tailored garment.

Axe said a silent thank you to his instructor-cum-seamstress for her talent. Even working with estimates alone for Crooks’ measurements, the costume fit wonderfully, clinging and flowing in all of the right places. Crooks almost floated down the stairs, doing a little twirl at the bottom to show the flounce of the skirt.

Axe stepped forward and made a formal bow. He’d removed his hoodie to reveal a T-shirt printed to look like a tuxedo though he still wore his basketball shorts. Looking up at Crooks’ unabashed smile he asked: “may i have this dance?”

READ ON AO3

DAY SIX | INDEX | DAY EIGHT

#vex does flufftober #undertale flufftober #horrortale #horrortale skelebros #horrortale papyrus #horrortale sans

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silver-wield · 4 years

Text

On Edge

As the city of Edge expanded out and around them, Cloud and Tifa spend their days building up both Seventh Heaven and Strife Delivery Service. It was hard work and an occasional thankless task, but they persisted because it was also a labour of love.

After Barret left on his quest to find purpose in his life, leaving Marlene in their care, things quietened down for the longest time, until Cloud brought home a young boy called Denzel he'd found wandering around the ruins of Aerith's church. He'd contracted Geostigma, a fatal and highly contagious disease, but that didn't stop Tifa from welcoming him into their home.

A few nights after Denzel's arrival during a slow point in service, Tifa overheard a few locals talking about a shady network, a black market, that seemed to appear from nowhere. The person pulling the strings had everyone at their beck and call and no one could explain how. Standing at the far end of the bar, pretending to rinse a glass out, Tifa's eyes widened as she heard a name she thought she'd never hear again. Don Corneo? She glanced at the two barflies from the corner of her eye. Labourers, the pair, they came in at the end of every week to celebrate a job well done. Reliable sorts, so she knew she could trust what they said. Wonder if Cloud knows? She looked at the clock. He'll be back soon. With a nod to herself that it could wait until she saw him in person, Tifa turned back to serve her customers with a warm smile and cold drinks.

~*~*~

“Hey, Cloud! You're back!” Denzel beamed up at him, as Cloud came through the doors.

Tifa came out from behind the bar carrying four plates. “Just in time for dinner,” she said to him. “Everybody wash up first.” She looked from Cloud to Denzel and then Marlene, who nodded. As Cloud passed her, she added, “There's something we need to talk about, but not with the kids around.”

Cloud paused and frowned. “Okay...”

Head tilting as she watched him go, Tifa also frowned. He sounded worried. Does he know about Corneo already? Maybe I shouldn't bring it up. I'm sure Cloud can handle it. Deciding not to poke a hornet's nest when she didn't need to, Tifa put the dinner down and went to grab cutlery.

Dinner passed in a haze of pleasant chatter about everyone's day. Denzel asked Cloud as many questions about work as he could think of, but often his one word answers weren't enough so Tifa filled in the blanks. Marlene showed Cloud her arithmetic book and bragged about becoming an accounts clerk for the bar.

“You've got a patient teacher,” he said to her, looking at Tifa.

“Only sometimes,” she replied in a teasing tone.

Cloud ducked his head a little and said, “Hoo boy.”

After dinner, Denzel felt well enough to play outside for a while, so he and Marlene went out with strict instructions to return before the street lights came on.

Cloud gathered up the empty plates and took them over to the sink where Tifa already had the water running. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Lost in thought, it took a moment for Tifa to hear his question. Then, she glanced up at him. “Hmm? Oh, it's nothing now.”

Cloud's brow creased as he began to pout. “Right...” He put the plates in the sink and turned away. “Guess I'll be in the office.”

Is he upset? “Cloud?” Tifa put her hand on his upper arm, stopping him from leaving. “Is something wrong?”

Cloud shook his head. “No. It's just I thought you wanted to talk and now you don't. It's fine.”

It doesn't sound fine. Sighing, Tifa took a step closer to him and laid her forehead against his back. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.”

Cloud placed his hand over Tifa's. “It's fine. I'm not upset.” He fell silent for a long moment, then drew in a deeper breath before saying, “If something's wrong you can rely on me. You're not in this alone.”

Tifa smiled and wrapped her arm around his waist. “I know.”

“Then, tell me what's the matter?”

Chuckling, she realised some wires crossed in their conversation. We can work on that. Moving around to face him, Tifa said, “It wasn't anything the matter with me. I heard Don Corneo's still alive and I was going to ask you about it, but then I thought what if you were already handling it?” She bowed her head, adding, “I didn't want to assume you hadn't heard. You're out in the world more than I am.” Waiting in silence to see what Cloud would say, Tifa was surprised when he put both hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him. “Huh? You're smiling?”

“Doesn't matter,” he replied, pulling her into his arms and holding her close. “I hadn't heard about Corneo,” he continued, speaking in a low voice, “but I can deal him if you want.”

Would he eventually bother them? Tifa wasn't sure. He only came after Avalanche because Shinra posted a reward. If the rumours were true, only the Turks and a few loyal administrative staff remained. Reeve reappropriated much of the company and turned it into the WRO: the World Regenesis Organisation, dedicated to protecting and preserving the planet and its people. But what about the regular people down on the ground? The WRO's focus is rebuilding. Should we really leave a threat like Corneo running around without check? “I don't know,” she murmured. “What do you think?”

“You're always saying we should get to know the neighbours.”

Tifa giggled. “That's not exactly what I had in mind when I said that, but it works.” She looked at him and smiled. “Want some help?”

Cloud nodded. “Sure, why not?”

~*~*~

It wasn't hard to run Corneo to ground in a newer part of Edge than where Cloud and Tifa lived. His tastes were just as overblown and ridiculous as Tifa remembered. “How did he even find all these materials?” she wondered, as Cloud rang a doorbell.

“I can guess, but you won't like it,” he replied, scowling.

Tifa shuddered. “Reeve would be impressed with his procurement skills, but not his methods.”

“Hmm.”

The door opened and a man with a scar running down his face poked his head out. “What?”

“Here to see Corneo,” Cloud said, placing one hand on the hilt of his sword. “We don't have an appointment.”

“Get lost.” As the door began to close, Cloud drew his sword and jammed it into the gap.

“Ah! Get lost!”

“Tifa.”

“On it.” Tifa grabbed the door with both hands and pulled. The man lost his grip and it swung fully open.

“Like I said,” Cloud repeated, taking a step forward, “we're here to see Corneo.” He continued to advance, forcing the bigger man to back up until both he and Tifa made it inside.

“We're old acquaintances,” Tifa said from behind Cloud.

“Yeah, do whatever,” the man replied, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Thank you very much!” Tifa passed Cloud, then beckoned him after checking the coast was clear. “Corneo spent all his money on trappings, huh? No lackeys anywhere.”

“Hmm...” Cloud's eyes darted around, keeping a look out for sudden attacks.

They made it all the way to Corneo's inner sanctum without seeing another person.

“Guess you were right,” Cloud said to Tifa, as he pushed open the double doors and walked into Corneo's office.

“Then, how is controlling everyone?” Tifa shook her head. “It doesn't make sense.”

“Maybe—watch out!” Cloud grabbed Tifa's wrist and tugged her to safety as a hidden goon leapt from the shadows brandishing a knife.

“Surprise!” Several more appeared.

Pulling her behind him, Cloud drew his sword. “Good to go?”

“Always!”

After making short work of Corneo's thugs, Cloud and Tifa moved past the office and into the back room.

Tifa sighed and shook her head. “I must be seeing things. This looks just like his room at Wall Market.”

“With a couple new additions,” Cloud replied, crossing to the far wall and examining a collection of photos lining it. “Asshole.” He ripped one down and shoved it in his pocket.

“Cloud?” Who's the photo of?

“No biggie.” He looked around. “Where's Corneo?”

“That scumbag. Did he escape like last time?” Tifa balled her fists.

The sound of a toilet flushing came from behind another door.

Cloud glanced at Tifa, seeming to deliberate something, then shook his head. “We'll wait 'till he comes out.”

Tifa's eyes crinkled at the corners as she ducked her head and smothered a laugh. “Thanks.”

By the time Corneo emerged from the bathroom, Tifa had taken a seat at Corneo's desk with Cloud leaning against it beside her. Both smothered their surprise as a thin, pasty man wearing a faded red velvet dressing gown appeared. Most shocking about the change in his appearance was the wheelchair.

“Guess he didn't weasel out it totally after all,” Cloud commented. “You look like shit.”

Corneo stopped and looked up. “Oho, my little Avalanche kittens. Come for a visit, have you? Well, I expected you sooner, but I heard you'd gotten caught up in your little business venture.” Corneo continued wheeling himself around the room until he reached his bed. “Little help? I take it you've incapacitated my men?” When Cloud took a step in his direction, Corneo sneered. “Not you, her.” He pointed at Tifa.

Cloud blocked the way with his sword as Tifa got up from the chair. “Forget it.”

“Oh, I wasn't going to help,” she said, as she placed a hand on his arm and gently urged him to lower his sword. “I was going to kick him and see if he's faking.” She gave Corneo a bright and very false smile.

“Be still my beating heart!” Corneo put both hands to his chest. “How could you think I'd lie about something this serious?”

“Because you're a snake,” Cloud replied. “What are you up to in Edge?” he added, coming straight to the point.

“Up to? Me? Why nothing.” Corneo smiled. “I'm just a businessman seeking new opportunities in the new metropolis.”

Tifa could feel the lies permeating the room. “And what kind of opportunities would those be?”

“What's it to you? I'm not hurting anyone. I'm just going about my day. You're the ones who ruined me so I have to start over, remember?” A vicious look crossed his face as he fidgeted in the wheelchair.

Crossing her arms, Tifa said, “You brought that on yourself, and you'll bring worse if you don't behave.”

Corneo got a saucy look in his eye. “Oh, will you punish me?” he asked, voice dropping an octave.

Tifa repressed a shudder. “Sure,” she said in a bland voice. “Cloud, you still have that bat with all the nails in it, right? That'd make a perfect paddle.”

Corneo's shudder was clearly one of pleasure. “Promises, promises.”

Cloud bared his teeth at Corneo and took a step forward. “Now look—”

“All right, all right.” Corneo put his hands up in surrender. “I'll behave. Wouldn't want your boyfriend getting jealous, am I right?”

Tifa nodded, as Cloud said, “Right.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He'd never admitted he was her boyfriend before. It made her feel strangely shy. She noticed his cheeks turning red as he glared at Corneo, so she ducked her head and tried to focus on the task at hand.

“Oh, you two are cute. Once I build a new coliseum you'll compete, huh? Really bring in the crowds, especially when they hear former champion Cloud has a new lady on his arm.”

“Not new,” Cloud snapped.

What's this? Tifa looked at Cloud again and this time he seemed embarrassed. Who is Corneo talking about?

“We don't have time for your bullshit. Stay out of trouble or I'll finish the job the Turks started.” Cloud was already sheathing his sword and turning to go.

Tifa took one last look at Corneo and followed.

~*~*~

Back at Seventh Heaven, Tifa trailed Cloud into his office and noted his desk needed tidying again. She frowned at the medical text book littered with notes. Is he looking for a cure for Denzel? Her gaze softened as it tracked to him. “Cloud?”

“I wasn't with anyone else in Wall Market,” he said, keeping his back to her. “They misunderstood. They thought that Aerith and I...”

So, it was Aerith with him. “Aerith fought in the coliseum?”

Cloud nodded as he turned around. “We needed money for that dress she wore to the audition.”

She'd never asked about the series of events that led to Cloud appearing in Corneo's dungeon in a gothic style dress. She hadn't ever pictured him like that, so it was a huge surprise when she realised it was him under all the makeup and trappings. Why did he come, anyway? “I know we said we'd drop it,” she began in a hesitant voice, taking a step towards him, “but, you never told me why you went through all that.”

Cloud glanced at her, then ducked his head and smiled. “How else was I supposed to rescue you?”

“Rescue me?” Maybe she suspected that was the reason. She hadn't really thought it through at the time. She'd been so focused on getting info out of Corneo that Cloud's purpose sneaking in eluded her. “Is that why you came?”

“Of course it was.” He chuckled and shook his head. “You think I'd go through that much for anyone else?” He dug his hand in his pocket and withdrew the picture he'd swiped from Corneo's earlier. “Souvenir.”

Tifa stepped closer and looked at the picture. “He took photos?” She looked into Cloud's face with dismay. “Then, that wall...”

“Is how he controls people,” Cloud finished with a nod. “Monsters like that always have an angle.”

“Shouldn't we do something?” She took the photo from him and replaced it with her hand.

“Corneo's the type to step in his own shit. He'll slip up sooner or later.” He squeezed Tifa's hand and shrugged.

“I guess so. It just feels wrong to let him run around all over town when things are just starting to settle down.” She sighed, posture sinking.

“Hey,” Cloud wrapped an arm around her shoulder, “if you let it get to you, then he's already won. You think I'll let that happen?”

That's right. Cloud will take care of things. Corneo won't ruin what we're working so hard to rebuild. “Mm, thanks.” She leaned her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “I always know I can rely on you.” She peered at the photo in her hand. “So, how did you end up in a dress?”

Cloud chuckled shortly. “Aerith and Andrea Rhodea's doing.”

That was enough information for her to make a guess at how things went. She'd gone through similar at the Gold Saucer. “Thought you didn't dance?”

“I only dance with you,” he replied, kissing the top of her head.

She giggled, feeling her cheeks heating at the memory. He'd come so close to kissing her during their performance, it still sent tingles through her whenever she thought of it. “Shame we can't get Andrea to come take over from Corneo; he'd be the better choice,” she said, trying to deflect from how flustered she'd become. Her eyes drifted towards the cot Cloud set up in the office for those late hours when he returned and didn't want to risk waking her. It's the middle of the day. The kids could come home at any time. We really shouldn't. She snuggled closer and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Tifa?” Cloud tucked her hair behind her ear as he whispered her name. “Wanna dance?”

Tifa giggled again and answered with a shy nod.

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