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synthetictorii · 7 months

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The Price Of Beauty ✧ Hizashi Yamada

Pairing: Present Mic/Hizashi Yamada x reader Genre: fluff Summary: Hizashi's been having headache that have a very obvious cause. It takes a lot of effort and sacrifice to keep his hair in such unnatural shape, y'know? Word count: 5.1k A/N: ...obligatory old and cringey fic ahead warning...

The bell rang, declaring the lesson finished. It was late in the afternoon already so all the students hurried out of classroom without asking you any question. You were teaching assistant for English lessons at U.A., the hero academy, which was pretty ironic as you were born quirkless. But it was a job you really enjoyed and it still left you with enough time to study for your own lesson on police academy. What you didn’t inherit in terms of quirk was compensated for by your high intelligence and natural talent to simply soak up information. You never had a hard time studying, not even now during your last college year although yes, there were subjects you spent more time on than you wanted but hey, that was life. You felt truly blessed to be clever enough to get the opportunity with the U.A., the students were mostly fine kids and the lessons were fun. However today left you exhausted even if nothing much happened as you didn’t get nearly enough sleep, binge watching the new series of your favourite show until 4 a.m. The good thing was that it was Friday so you could catch up with your sleeping tonight.

You yawned and let your head fall down on your hands lying on the desk you were sitting at. You closed your tired eyes for a while, enjoying last warm rays of sun falling on your back through the window. You must have dozed off for a second since you did not notice the steps approaching you or that a person stood above you until they softly petted your head with a chuckle. Your head snapped up, eyes widened in surprise. “Hey, [y/n], was I that boring?” Asked the person (who still didn’t remove his hand from your head), grin on his lips. Your features relaxed and your shoulder dropped slightly. Now that you knew who it was, you had to restrain yourself from leaning into his touch. “Sorry, I’m just really tired, Yamada-san,” you gave him a weak smile, your eyes casted down so you wouldn’t have to look on his pretty face. As if it mattered, your cheeks were probably pink anyway.

The only reason why you hadn’t fallen asleep during the lecture was him – your long time crush Yamada Hizashi, or as the public knew him, the pro-hero Present Mic. You were interested in him since he debuted as a hero. You admired how skilled he was in using his power, always paying attention not to hurt civilians or break windows with his loud voice. And he also had his own radio show and taught at the high school. It was truly admirable that he managed to do so many things. Then there were, of course, his astounding looks. His mane of golden hair that he obviously took good care of, well-trimmed mustache and piercing lime eyes with facial features worthy of God himself with his beautiful cheek bones and jawline to die for. You absolutely loved just watching the man as he elegantly moved and explained the grammar or really simply existed. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. He always radiated so much energy, watching him was hypnotizing.

“I already told you like hundred times to call me Hizashi,” he sighed, pulling you out of your thoughts. The pout was evident in his voice. You were not going to deny yourself looking at his cute expression. Whatever face he was making he always looked so perfect and charming, was this man actually a human? “No one calls you that in school, I’d feel weird if I did,” you explained, scratching your nape awkwardly. You kept your mouth shut about the fact that you were afraid that the word would come out as a purr. “Ah, so that’s how it is,” he nodded but you saw the devilish smirk already forming on his face and crossed your hands across your chest. “Then I suggest, that you, [y/n] [l/n], join me on Sunday to help me grade the essays at my place,” he finger-gunned you but quickly laughed it off. It almost looked like he was nervous. Why make him even feel even worse by telling him to pet you again because you missed his touch. “That’s if you don’t have anything else to do for school or whatever,” he added quickly and more quietly than before. All the deadlines that were slowly drawing closer were forgotten the instant you saw your chance to meet him outside the school. How could you refuse his offer when he was obviously so flustered about it – not to mention that you wouldn’t miss out on it for the world? Your heart jumped around in your chest. “I’d love to help you!” You smiled brightly at him, your [e/c] sparkling with happiness that didn’t go unnoticed, sending his pulse into overdrive. He snickered and spinned around with a yelp of excitement. Yes, he was loud, very loud, but you didn’t mind one bit.

After agreeing on details, you left the classroom together and chatted for a little while before going your separate ways – him into teacher’s lounge and you home, finally. You smiled the dorkiest smile the whole way to your little apartment, whistling a happy melody. Sure, it wasn’t exactly a date, yet your heart was beating so fast you wondered if you’re not going to collapse. Maybe you’ll finally get a chance to talk to him properly, not just simple small talk you managed to have in between classes or strictly work-related discussions. You were hoping that it would also give you a chance to show him your interest in him, although you doubted you’d actually make a move or something.

It was something that was always on your mind and bothered you – that he was affectionate towards you (and others too but you noticed that not quite as much) whereas you kept to yourself and never returned it. If it was his way of showing interest, he must be thinking that you’re not into him. Oh boy, how wrong he would be. For now though there was no reason to worry about that. Instead you tried to imagine what his home will look like – will it be an apartment or house? You guessed a flat since it was more practical and easier to maintain. And there’s bound to have plenty of speakers and posters and CDs all around the place! You daydreamed for the rest of the day, not getting slightest bit of work done. Even as you were falling asleep, cuddling to your blanket, Hizashi’s image stayed on your mind.

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Nearly half of the next day you spent in bed. Of course you re-watched all your favourite episodes of any series you could thought of during the night and had to catch up on sleep now. After that you pretty much just worked on some essays you were supposed to finish until the end of next week while doodling little hearts and lovey-dovey stick figures into the notebook next to your keyboard. You had hard time concentrating on the task at hand, already impatient to see Hizashi. It was so sweet to wake up to his text, it only stated the address of his apartment and that he was looking forward to your meeting but still… that he sent it today meant he also thought about you, right? You bit your lip, smiling as you drew yet another little heart, feeling like a love-sick schoolgirl.

Tomorrow came soon but not soon enough. You barely slept the whole night due to excitement. Miraculously though you were overflowing with energy, feeling like you could run the whole marathon without breaking a sweat. This was the power Hizashi had over you. You agreed on meeting him at noon after you had lunch which was still about three hours away but you were already running around your flat too nervous to eat so you figured why not start getting ready.

You styled your [h/l] hair the way you liked the most and that made you feel confident. Then you had a little mental breakdown over what clothes you were supposed to wear. It took you way longer than it should and it was almost time to go. In the end you settled for comfy skinny jeans that made your ass look nice (but that was definitely not the reason you chose them) and casual shirt with rolled-up sleeves. Yup, looked good enough. You packed all the things you needed along with your keys and phone, reading the address one more time. You picked up a banana, at least a little snack, and headed out, almost running as you couldn’t hold in your excitement.

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You for sure were no runner yet today your body pushed beyond its limits and carried you to the address in record time. You let yourself into the building as someone was just leaving at your arrival so you simply gently knocked on the door labelled Yamada Hizashi and waited.

Soon you heard soft steps and the door was opened, revealing a surprised Hizashi. You giggled at his shocked expression before taking in his appearance. He looked completely different, so much so that you’d doubt it’s the right guy if it wasn’t for the lime eyes and his mustache. He had more conservative pair of glasses on his eyes with simple black frames and was dressed more casually too, sporting black jeans with holes on the knees and t-shirt with a name of some band on it and grey cardigan. His directional speakers were nowhere to be found, leaving his neck bare, safe for the beaded necklace. The neckline of his shirt allowed you a glance at his exposed collar bones and you swallowed thickly. But the most prominent change was his hair. He had them tied back into a messy bun but it was still flowing in golden streams down his shoulders. He looked even more mesmerizing than in his hero outfit. You checked the name plate again. He laughed softly and scratched the back of his head, nervous under your look. “Expected better?” he joked but you heard the uncertainty in his voiced. You shook your head gently and gave him a supportive smile. “You just look quite unrecognizable,” you explained. “That’s the idea,” he snickered and stepped aside to let you in. You walked in and took off your shoes, following him to the living room.

The place was cleaned spotless and all the plants were green and healthy. You expected that much, just like all the little decorations. Most of them were music themed, unsurprisingly. Yet even with every surface covered with all kinds of little decorations, photos or CDs, the living room was rather spacious with little furniture, the modern looking black sofa dominating the room. The contrast made you confused which was obvious on your face so Hizashi quirked a brow at you, still nervously shuffling next to you, it almost looked like he was the guest. “I was just wondering why’s the room so empty, I imagined it full of technology and stuff,” you smiled at him curiously. He reciprocated it in somewhat mischievous manner. “Where would I dance if there was no place?” He winked at you and picked a remote from one of the shelves, pushing a button. Upbeat music started playing from a huge stereo in the corner. Hizashi spinned in a semi-circle, moving in front of you and extended a hand towards you. “Shall we?” His lime eyes shone brightly, sending your heart racing at hundred miles an hour. He looked so playful and pretty and your lovesick brain could hardly resist his offer. Luckily you remembered in time that last time you danced with someone you almost broke their foot as you accidently stomped on it too hard. You’re not going to risk the same happening to this precious man in front of you. “Aren’t we supposed to grade some essays, Hizashi?” You sighed dramatically, already moving your gaze away from him but then you caught a glance at how his pupils dilated, grin wide. “[y/n]! You finally said it!” He exclaimed, overly-excited, jumping on the spot like some child. At first, you weren’t sure what was he talking about, but then it hit you and your face turned pink again. It was incomprehensible to you that simply hearing his name from your lips could make him so happy. “Yeah, so stop overreacting if you want me to say it again sometime,” you snorted fondly. He calmed down in an instant, still all giggly.

“’right, so sit down here,” he patted a spot on the sofa while backing into the kitchen, the music still played much quietly in the background, “and tell me what would you like to drink, I just bought some new kind of tea I wanted to try for the longest time if you want to join me?” He shot you a look you could only describe as hopeful. “Sounds good,” you beamed at him, eager to try something he found promising. “I wouldn’t guess you to be the tea type,” you teased as he prepared the tea according to the steps on the little bag it came in. “Shōta showed me its wonders,” he explained as he set the colourful cups down on the coffee table with a soft thud. “I hope it’s good, would be awkward if it’s not,” he grinned sheepishly and plopped down on the opposite side of sofa. You tried your best not to look disappointed because of the distance between you. “I fully trust your instincts,” you reassured him with a smile. He gave one himself and then reached under the table, pulling a stack of papers. “You ready to dig into this?” he lifted the pile. It was obviously heavy, suggesting that a long grading session was upon you. You were not going to complain though; it only meant you’ll get to spend more time with the man! You simply nodded and took a half, or attempted to as it was really rather hard to hold all the sheets. Hizashi noticed and without any difficulty moved your share into your lap. “Even struggling with papers, you should hit the gym with me sometimes,” he said jokingly, blissfully unaware of the storm of images of him all sweaty and pumped from the training running through your head. You hid your red face behind the essays. “How long have these been piling up anyway?” you asked instead. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. “Let’s just say that some students need those grades fast, okay?” You rolled your eyes playfully, taking your pen and looking at the first essay.

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About two hours in, your eyes started to sting, migraine threatening to attack. You laid the papers down and pinched the bridge of your nose. You still had half of the papers left to grade. Hizashi knew you both were in trouble after the first half hour when he almost dozed off. After that he gave up his place on couch, instead sitting on the pillow on the ground so the slight discomfort wouldn’t let him fall asleep. Now you began to understand why it took him so long to get the grading done. You laid on the couch with head supported by arm rest and pillows, yet sleeping didn’t once cross your mind as you were too nervous in Hizashi’s proximity. Your tired eyes moved on their own to look at the man. You couldn’t see his face but he was obviously just as done with this shit as you were. Every other second his hand reached into his golden hair, pulling at his hair tie to loosen its grip. You bit your lip. He seemed to be in pain – no wonder, his scalp must be so sore after his hair were styled high up for days in school and then tied back. Maybe a little massage would help him? You were afraid he would hear your heartbeat, the thought speeding up its rhythm. It’s worth a try, right? He also sometimes played with your hair! And helping each other is what friends and colleagues do after all! Sure, your motive was purely the selfish pleasure of touching him but you needed some excuse if he asks why are you doing that. You wouldn’t be able to tell him the truth – that you were wondering since you first saw him how would his hair feel against your fingers and that it was so hard to keep yourself from playing with them when he sat next to you on meetings.

You took one last deep breath and snaked your hand into the messy bun he pulled his hair into, toying with the hair tie until it came undone, doing so stealthily enough he only noticed when his locks fell fully around his shoulders. “[Y/n]…? What are you-,” before he could finish his sentence, you mustered all your courage and threaded your fingers through his hair to gently rub little circles on his scalp. A little satisfied moan escaped his lips, draining all blood from your body and sending it to your cheeks. How shameless! You thought and sat up so you could use both your hands, resuming your little demonstration, gradually moving your fingers all across his skull. It was relaxing for you too, his hair was silky and each lock slid and curled perfectly around your fingers. You took your sweet time on each new spot, making sure it felt good. You knew the pain that comes after wearing ponytail the whole day but couldn’t imagine what pain does he have to go through with his trademark hairstyle.

Hizashi’s feedback was… pleasantly embarrassing. He made little murmurs and soft gasps, each one of them sending your heart near cardiac arrest. “Damn, is this what they teach you at uni?” he sighed happily, head leaning into your touch. You giggled and scratched the top of his head. “Feeling better?” you asked, never stopping the movements of your hands, now running your fingertips gently all over his skull. “Right now, I would gladly grade your half of the essays too if you continued,” he purred. “Deal,” you chuckled as you dumped the ungraded papers into his lap unexpectedly. He didn’t believe you would actually do that, turning a bit to look at you questioningly. “Are you sure? It will take forever!” he frowned concernedly. You rolled your eyes. As if you’d let him strip you off your one chance to show him you can be affectionate too. “Absolutely sure, your head must hurt like hell after having your hair up like that all the time,” you continued your massage as he sighed and relaxed again. “You have no idea, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay for my perfect look,” he winked at you over his shoulder.

It was so playful you were glad you were sitting or else your knees would probably give up under you. But well, two can play this game. “In my opinion, it’s worth it, though you look great like this too,” you informed him. You tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, though on the inside your heart was racing. He tensed, caught off guard but quickly regained his composure. He chuckled softly and moved a strand of his hair behind his ear. “Thank you,” he said honestly, his voice changed but you weren’t able to pinpoint which emotion had caused it, “I admit I was hesitant not to do my hair up today.” That piqued your interest. “Why?” You asked curiously, tone soft as it seemed to be a touchy subject. “Well… that’s,” he chuckled humourlessly and gave a shrug, “I’ve been made fun of because of my hair, so yeah. Only when I started styling it the way I do now did people accept it as a part of my superhero persona.” You stopped your movements for a while and opted instead for simply laying your hand on his shoulder. “I like it more this way,” you smiled gently when he turned to look at you again. “Makes you look younger,” you snickered, making him chuckle, “besides I’ve always had a thing for guys with long hair.” That earned you a cheerful laugh, the sound of it easing your anxiety over his reaction to your confession. Something in his eyes changed though, what it was though stayed a secret to you once again. The two of you fell into comfortable silence with you massaging his scalp while he graded the essays.

He was right in the end. It did take him a short forever to get through all the papers but his pace was significantly quicker than before. During the necessary short breaks you chatted about everything and anything, about his radio show and your classmates, his own student years and how the tea he made was really delicious. It was wonderful, you really enjoyed yourself and it surprised you how easy and fun it was to talk with Hizashi.

So much so that you nearly whined when he set the last essay aside and pumped his fists into the air. “Finally,” he sighed happily and turned to you. You folded your hands in your lap and grinned at him proudly. “I can’t believe you really sacrificed yourself like that just to be spoiled,” you laughed. “Aren’t your hands hurting?” he asked as he glanced at your hands with concern. You flexed your fingers a few times, if only he knew how much time you spend typing away on keyboard, it was basically a work out. “Not really, but a rest would be nice,” you smiled reassuringly. “I’m just glad I didn’t have to grade all those,” you teased contently. What fool would choose some boring – and for the most part badly written – essays over caressing Hizashi’s golden mane? “So does that mean that I can always trade grading your part for a massage?” he raised a brow at you playfully. You pretended to ponder about his proposal but who were you kidding, of course it meant exactly that. “You can try, I won’t stop you,” you shrugged but your lips betrayed you, forming into a wide smile. “It’s a deal then,” he smirked victoriously.

You chatted for a bit longer but as the sun began to set, you decided it was time for you to leave. You didn’t really want to do so but you also didn’t want to walk home in the dark. Hizashi generously offered to accompany you on your way but you declined despite all his arguments. He was obviously tired and his first lesson tomorrow starts at 7 a.m., you knew because it was yours too. However, you definitely needed to wake up later than him as your appearance didn’t need such meticulous preparation. You decided that even though you’d gladly trade your soul for an opportunity like that any other day, it will have to wait. “It’s really fine, Hizashi,” you chuckled at the pure childish joy that lightened up his face at his name. “And I’ll text you once I’m safely home, okay?” you offered and he sighed, leaning against the door frame. “Fine, but I don’t like it,” he pouted and with a push he stood straight right in front of you. “Thanks for coming,” he smiled and spread his arms. You breath hitched in your throat and your heartbeat quickened but you quickly shook off your nervousness and stepped right into the hug, wrapping your arms around him too. “No problem,” you said sweetly as you reluctantly let go of him. “Let’s do this again sometime, shall we?” you asked hopefully and he gifted you one of his precious grins. “Of course,” he winked at you as you waved each other goodbye. You rushed home, all giddy and lovesick.

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During the next couple weeks it became a nearly daily occurrence for every teacher at UA to see you and Hizashi together, most of the times on the couch where Hizashi laid with his head in your lap, chatting, grading, or tapping away on your phones. Every time you massaged his scalp, careful not to mess up his hair. In return for your gentle care, he always prepared a tea or coffee for you before your first lesson and gave you less papers to grade.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t want more but you were quite content with how things were now. No longer were your conversations focused on work-related topics and general small talk, instead you both learned many things about each other. It was almost uncanny how alike you two were and how many of your hobbies matched. You also became much more affectionate towards Hizashi although still more professional than him. He seemed not only to notice that change but also enjoy it greatly. He paid more attention to you, his lime gaze finding you even in the middle of lectures. Students luckily haven’t noticed yet.

Today was Friday, your favourite day, and not because of the upcoming weekend. It was the day when you had a two hour break in between lesson you taught with Hizashi so you could spend it together and often did. It was the highlight of your week.

Your ways parted after stepping out of the classroom. He has offered to bring you lunch – something he did quite often in the last week, you weren’t complaining though – whereas you headed to teacher’s lounge to reserve the couch before Aizawa usurps it for himself. You actually considered asking the man about Hizashi; he must have told him something, right? They were best buds after all! Stepping into the room you sighed happily, it was empty and the couch was free. You sat down and pulled out a book from you bag. It won’t hurt to read for a bit before Hizashi comes.

You managed to get through the whole chapter before the door opened and in walked the loud man with both your lunches. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he smiled as he sat down and handed you your box with Chinese noodles with vegetables and chicken, one of your favourites from the canteen. You said cross-legged, your knee gently brushing against his tight. You wondered since when exactly did you start to sit so close to each other. “Thanks, this was totally worth the wait,” you hungrily dug in, closing your eyes at the delicious taste. He laughed softly and also started eating. You watched him from the corner of your eye. His movements were always so graceful, even if he was doing something mundane. He was still as fascinating as he was before you got to know him properly and your crush only got more unbearable because of it.

Opening of the door caught your attention, shifting your focus on the person coming in. “Hello, Aizawa-san,” you greeted the black haired man, the slight tensing of Hizashi’s features going unnoticed. “Hello, [y/n],” he replied, catching you off guard – never before did he wasted energy on talking. You never took it personally as the only person who got him to talk was currently sitting next to you. You still had to notice how said blonde eyed the newcomer warily. Of course he also noticed the change of his friend’s treatment of you. And he had a feeling that it meant nothing good. He knew he shouldn’t have told him anything! “Is something the matter?” you asked curiously, polite smile still plastered on your face. Maybe he wanted your help with something? What could that possibly be you had no idea but it was the only explanation you had for the shift in his behaviour. Aizawa looked at Hizashi briefly, only the most inconspicuous twitch of his lips was a sign of any emotion. “You know, my neck’s been hurting like hell today and since you always help Yamada I thought-,” he didn’t get to finish his thought as Hizashi suddenly jerked to your side and pulled you to his chest, almost knocking both your lunches down. You looked up at him confusedly. His cheeks were pink as he glared at Aizawa dangerously. “Shouta! She’s mine!” he pouted as he pulled you even closer to him. Now you were even more confused, what was going on?

“Oh really?” he cocked a brow at the blonde and turned to you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d thought that there was amusement sparkling behind his tired eyes. “Are you, [y/n]?” he asked the crucial question. You gulped. To be honest, you didn’t mind one bit to be monopolized by Hizashi – in any sense really. But how would he feel about that? Sure, he did started all this but there’s also the possibility of this being just another quirk of his playfulness. If it was so and you expressed your feelings, you were risking the fragile relationship between the two of you. Then again, you were tired of waiting and second guessing. “Yeah, kind of, sorry Aizawa-san,” you smiled, equally apologetic and nervous. You felt Hizashi tense against your back, his hands stilled too. On the other hand, the man in front of you smirked victoriously but his eyes weren’t on you but on the blonde. “Is that so? My mistake,” he said, nodded, finally looking at you again, and walked to his table on the furthest side of the room, safely out of hearing distance. You bit your lip gently as Hizashi let his hands fall from your waist back to his lap. He cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting next to you. “Well…,” he started, anxiously fidgeting with his fingers. “Well?” you looked at him just as anxious. “Are you serio- I mean, would you like it?” he blurted out, finally meeting your gaze. His eyes were wide and hopeful behind his glasses. You noticed he was holding his breath – just like you. You averted your eyes for a fraction of second. But who were you kidding; you truly didn’t have to think about it. “Yes, yes I would,” you whispered with a shy smile. His own widened into a full-blown grin as he pulled you to him again, squeezing you tightly, making you laugh in delight. This time his lunch did fall down but neither of you cared. “That settles it then! You’re officially mine!” he cheered loudly enough for everyone – Aizawa – to hear. You wondered if he planned for this to happen, if so, you owe him big time. Maybe you could also gave him a little massage? “But be warned, my dear,” Hizashi purred quietly into your ear, wanting only you to hear him this time, “I don’t share.” A pleasant shiver ran down your spine. “I don’t think I mind at all,” you whispered back as you kissed him. No way, Aizawa can take care of himself.

#bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #hizashi x reader #present mic x reader #hizashi fluff #present mic fluff

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pigeontheoneandonly · 8 months

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from Lemongrass-

Seeing him now, it was clear he’d grown up watching his mother, and absorbed everything she had to teach. That added new depth to her understanding of the damage BAaT did to his family. It was easy to sense, lurking there even today, in every interaction between mother and son, but harder to interpret. When she was done, she returned to the kitchen, and found he’d added tofu, galangal (not ginger, she reminded herself, firmly), the aforementioned limes plus some kaffir lime leaves he’d obtained god-knew-how, and fish sauce to the waiting ingredients. He smiled as he heard the door shut. “Here you are.” She dumped her handful of fresh produce beside his pile. “These look great. Take this.” He handed her the spoon. Shepard held it like a dead mouse. “Wait a minute—” He took the lemongrass to the sink. “Nope. This time, you cook, and I help. Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it.” Everything about this read imminent disaster. Kaidan noticed her frown, and pushed her arm towards the pot. “Add the coconut milk.” It trickled in, aided by her tentative stirring. She put the spoon down. “Kaidan, look, cooking… My biggest accomplishment is getting a microwave burrito thawed the whole way through without drying it out. I know you want to do this whole domestic thing—” He picked it up and put it back in her hand. “I have never known you to admit defeat on anything. What’s going on? Talk to me.” She stared into the pot, expressionless face flickering in the burner’s flame. Kaidan tried another tact. “You’re not sleeping. You barely eat.” “I…” She let the spoon go, and slumped over the stove, tiredly. “I didn’t expect winning to feel like this.” His face softened. “That’s because we didn’t win. We just beat the reapers.” She brushed some of the hair out of her eyes. He rubbed her shoulders, left a kiss on her neck. “Let’s just make soup, ok? Lemongrass is next. Smash it first.” The damp stalks left small puddles on the board as she ran the knife through them, and then upended it and brought the butt of the handle down on each piece, thump thump. Then the same to the peppers. The motion was almost comforting; Kaidan made this soup a lot. Kaidan slid sliced galangal into the pot. “Your turn.” Picking up the lemongrass with the blade, Shepard watched it disappear into the white broth, only to bob back up again, filmed with coconut milk. Already leeching all its intensity and leaving the herb softer, milder, spent; having sprouted and fought through the dirt to the sun, grown tall and proud, only to give up all it made to this. Because she declared that this was its purpose and its end. A fistful of bright leaves fluttered down over the lemongrass pieces. Shepard started. Kaidan’s brow furrowed, and he touched her arm. “You sure you’re ok?” “Yeah,” she said, distantly. “I’m just tired.” He watched her a few moments too long for comfort. “Even the squirrels know that.” It caught her off guard and she laughed, as he clearly hoped she would. Just one chuckle. But it helped.

i love this so much, it's so recognizable and so gentle but he's not coddling her or letting her get away with anything. i'd love the director's cut :D

<3333333 I love this fic, thank you for asking about it!

I think at some point, everyone has an experience that is both life-altering in some way, but just...ends. There's no closure, there's no lesson, there's no meaning. You're just left to pick up the pieces and try to make some sense of the new life and the new personhood it's dropped you into.

That's Nathaly when the war ends.

And on top of that fundamental unmooring, she's tired, and she's traumatized, and she has no idea how she could possibly fit into the world that remained in the aftermath of the reapers' defeat. It's not a world that spectres so much as, well, people who can fix shit up and make it work again. And she's always been better at breaking things.

Kaidan, of course, is worried. This has been going on for some time at this point. Long enough for them to settle in on this land, build the house, make the furniture, barter for the things they need. And she's still tired and still quiet.

So then we have this scene. In Lemongrass, Nathaly's incompetence in the kitchen is serving thematically as an analogy for her inability to fit into this post-war life, square peg/round hole style. She doesn't simply not know what to do in the kitchen; she feels helpless to learn, she doesn't even know where to begin figuring it out. It's glaringly obvious when she thinks about the lemongrass leeching into the coconut milk that she's wondering if that's her--if she's been all used up by the war, by the Alliance, by this huge necessary task that only she could accomplish, and so she had no choice but to complete. Wondering if there's anything left of her after that fit for anything other than the bin.

But she's Nathaly, so she can't just tell Kaidan that. And honestly probably can't put it into words as plainly as I just did. She doesn't understand her own emotions that well. But they show in her every action in this scene. And that's a language Kaidan can read. He's always understood her intuitively, sometimes better than she understands herself. That's been their dynamic in pretty much everything I've written about them.

So he knows coming at it directly isn't likely to work. But Kaidan's EQ is pretty damn high, and so he also knows instinctively that getting her to do small things, make small accomplishments, like cooking soup, is going to help her through it. So that's what he's doing; just coaxing her a little, making her work, making her talk, but in the low-key, low-stakes way she can handle.

#ask me anything #nathaly shepard

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neufhistoires · 9 months

Text

Loveless Marriage (FrUK) Chapter 10

Loveless Marriage

Chapter 10

Word count: 4,023

**There are some suggestive themes in this chapter**

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“Wait! I just need to take one more photo of these ones,” Francis called out as he leaned over pink flowers at the botanical garden, trying to get the best angle he could. Arthur was slowly, but surely, walking away from him.

Francis had insisted on buying a disposable camera at one of the souvenir shops (even though he obviously already had a camera on his phone) because it would be aesthetically pleasing to develop the photos and put them in a physical album. Arthur argued that it was a waste of money because he already had a camera on his phone, but that didn’t stop the Frenchman. His mind was set.

“You’re so slow– I’m heading to the next area without you if you don’t hurry up!” Arthur called out, although it really wasn’t much of a threat anymore, seeing as he essentially already did go to the next section of flowers without the Frenchman. Francis was going to ignore the other man until he glanced over and realized how far away he was, irritation becoming apparent on his face.

“Hey! I told you to wait!” Francis yelled back, his eyes narrow as he took one more photo and then ran over to the Englishman.

“I didn’t realize you were my parent,” Arthur muttered sarcastically, his gaze averted away from Francis as he snapped some photos of the next area of flowers with his phone camera.

“I’m not– I’m your husband,” Francis teased, a smirk forming on his face as he watched Arthur tense up and glance around to see if anyone heard him say that.

“That’s even worse! Stop it!” Arthur yelled in a hushed tone.

“You’ll appreciate the effort I put into these photos when you see them developed later. Hey, I might even let you make your own copies of them,” Francis said, completely changing the topic as though he hadn’t even heard the other man.

“No, thanks,” Arthur scoffed. “I’ll be posting my photos and sending them to my friends today– maybe even right now– because I don’t have to go somewhere and wait for them to be developed.” “You know, you’re so much more tolerable when you’re drunk…or sick,” Francis muttered, trying to take his next set of photos faster.

“Well, if I get poisoned, I’ll know who did it,” Arthur replied, but he let out a small laugh, which made Francis smile, too.

The two of them continued to make their way through the garden, making sure to take photos of, and with, the Coco de Mer plants, which Francis couldn’t help but make dirty remarks about. Then, they proceeded on to the Thai Garden and the Chinese Garden, where they listened to a park employee explain the history behind them.

After the interesting, but very detailed, history lesson, the two of them were hungry so they stopped at a restaurant called Wildflour Cafe, which was located in the botanical garden. Arthur ordered tea and Francis ordered coffee, both of which tasted exceptional. For the food, they split a savory avocado bun, which was essentially thick, toasted bread with avocado spread and tomatoes topped with basil. They split it because they also each ordered a piece of homemade ginger and lime drizzle cake, which was also, of course, delicious.

Just when Arthur thought that they were done and went to ask for the check, Francis went ahead and ordered wine… even though it was lunch time.

“What are you doing– drinking at this time?” Arthur leaned in and whispered, which caused the waitress to stop and wait to see if the Frenchman would still want it.

“We’re on vacation– normal etiquette doesn’t apply! I want to try their wine,” Francis replied defensively, making Arthur let out a heavy sigh.

“Whatever– I guess I’ll try some, too, then,” Arthur said, making the waitress smile and nod before she walked away to go get their drinks.

“That’s the spirit,” Francis mused.

“Yeah, yeah. Admittedly, I find things more tolerable when I’m drunk, too,” Arthur said with a laugh.

“Like I said, we’re on vacation. Would we really be enjoying it if we didn’t get at least a little bit wasted?” Francis replied, sounding like he was a college frat boy who couldn’t contain himself. Well, at least the Frenchman knew how to have a good time– Arthur would give him that.

The waitress brought them their wine and then Francis held the glass up expectantly, waiting for Arthur to lift his glass up, too.

“To us,” Francis said, locking eyes with Arthur as he gently clinked their glasses together.

Arthur wanted to scold Francis, to tell him to stop joking around about their supposed marriage, but… he looked so serious when he said it. It sort of freaked the Englishman out, so he took it as a cue to drink faster. At least he wouldn’t have to think about it too much if he got drunk. Maybe he wouldn’t even remember something as small as the way Francis looked at him then.

“My family’s wine is better, of course, but it’s not bad,” Francis said, swirling the wine around in his glass.

“I honestly couldn’t tell you the difference,” Arthur replied, making Francis scoff. He wasn’t sure if the Englishman was just trying to push his buttons or if he really meant it.

After they finished up at the restaurant, they returned to the botanical gardens to do one last walkthrough to see if there was anything they had missed the first time. It seemed a lot more laid back and enjoyable when they were a little bit tipsy. Francis wasn’t being uptight about getting the right camera angles anymore, and Arthur stopped complaining about the fact that the Frenchman wasted his money on a useless camera.

This time they were taking completely random photos together. Some of them were rather silly. Most of them were photos of times when they tried to make serious faces or pose elegantly, but they just ended up bursting out into uncontrollable laughter instead.

The two of them stumbled around the gardens for who knows how long until they started to walk back in the direction of their hotel. They continued taking photos and walking into souvenir shops, buying things that they definitely didn’t need, like big sun hats and flashy glasses. At one point, Arthur even started doing impressions of American presidents, which was when they realized that maybe they were a little too drunk.

Although… if they could notice something like that, then they probably weren’t too drunk at all. That was Francis’s reasoning at least when they finally returned to the hotel and went straight for the bar in the lobby. That was starting to become a regular thing for the Frenchman– getting wasted in hotel bars.

Still wearing their huge sun hats and sunglasses, they drank for hours until they genuinely started to feel sick. Arthur threw up all over the chair beside him, which Francis made sure to get a picture of on his disposable camera. He was grateful when Arthur didn’t treat him the same way though when he started to puke next. The mess they made wasn’t enough to embarrass them because they were too drunk to really comprehend what embarrassment even was, but it was enough to make the bartender kick them out.

They should have been embarrassed. At least a little bit, right? But instead they were laughing about it in the lobby.

The truly embarrassing part was probably when they both decided that they wanted to take the stairs, but couldn’t make it up more than three steps without falling over. It went on like that for a few minutes before one of the hotel employees politely suggested that they use the elevator.

On the elevator, they continued to mess around and laugh at things that they usually wouldn’t find funny. Francis pressed all of the buttons on the elevator, making it hit every floor on the way up to theirs. Arthur closed the door immediately each time they reached a floor, making it difficult for others to even get on the elevator while they were on it. It was surprising that they could even remember which floor their rooms were on, but somehow they made it to the correct floor…

Upon stopping outside their doors, Arthur leaned against the wall in the hallway, watching as Francis pathetically tried to get the key in the door to his room. He started to laugh at the Frenchman, which caused Francis to turn around with a frustrated expression on his face.

“Why don’t you try to open your own door instead of watching me?” Francis slurred, his whole world spinning when he turned around to lock eyes with the equally drunk Englishman across from him.

“It looks too difficult– I’ll just sleep here,” Arthur said in a matter of fact tone as he slowly slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground.

Francis huffed and turned around to continue messing with the key. Then he realized he had been trying to use the wrong key and laughed at himself for a second before he put the correct key in and unlocked the door.

The Frenchman turned around again and saw the Englishman almost passed out in the hallway. Francis was drunk, too, but he could at least still recognize that sleeping in a hallway was wrong.

“Come on,” Francis mumbled, trying to lean over and grab Arthur’s arm without falling over himself.

“Where are we going?” Arthur slurred, his eyes still somehow closed as Francis tugged him into a standing position.

“You can sleep with me,” Francis replied, trying his best to focus for just a few more seconds so he could get the other man in the room and pass out in peace. Arthur wasn’t making it easy for the Frenchman though, as he kept fully collapsing into him. He almost knocked him over each time.

Eventually, the two of them got in the room, slamming the door on accident. At least the slam was loud enough for them to hear it and know that it shut for sure.

It would’ve been pitch black in Francis’s room, but he had accidentally forgotten to turn off the small lamp in the kitchenette, so the room was dimly lit. Unlike Arthur, Francis hadn’t made a mess by tossing clothes everywhere, so his room was well organized… before the two of them threw their sun hats, sunglasses, and all the other random souvenirs they had picked up along the way on the floor.

For a few minutes, the two of them didn’t really say anything. They both felt like everything was moving and every sound echoed, so Francis sat on the edge of the bed with a hand on his head and Arthur fumbled around in one of the cabinets trying to find a cup so he could get some water before bed.

It went on like that for a while, the sound of Arthur moving dishes around filling the room. Eventually, he found a cup, messily poured it with water, which got all over his hands, and then made his way over to the bed. Unfortunately though, as Arthur was walking over to the bed, just as he had almost made it there, he tripped on the unorganized pile of souvenirs and fell on top of Francis, spilling the glass of water on the other man.

“Merde! Arthur, what is that?” Francis slurred, not realizing that it was only water because he was too drunk and confused to have been paying attention to what Arthur was doing before he came over to the bed.

“Ouch, sorry,” Arthur mumbled, accidentally letting go of the glass completely as he tried to push himself off of the other man. Fortunately, when the glass hit the floor, it didn’t shatter.

As Arthur tried to use his hands to push him off of Francis, he accidentally placed his hand somewhere he shouldn’t have, causing the Frenchman to let out a groan. Arthur didn’t really realize what he had done, and then he made the situation even worse by reaching for a nearby folded blanket and attempting to sop up the water he had poured on the other man. Most of the water had spilled on his pants…

“Arthur, wait, I can–” Francis attempted to stop the other man, his cheeks flushed as the Englishman repeatedly wiped his lower half with the blanket. Right as Francis reached his arm out and grabbed Arthur’s wrist to stop him, the Englishman made contact with a certain area again and made him moan, this time much louder than before.

Although Arthur really couldn’t think too clearly, his body seemed to be thinking for him because his shorts suddenly started to feel tight and restricting after he heard the noise the other man made.

The two of them sat there frozen for a second before Francis said that he was going to take his shorts off because they were wet, but Arthur didn’t get off of him like he thought he would. No, instead he helped him take off his shorts, to which the Frenchman helped the Englishman take off his shorts, too.

It all happened so fast, as though in a matter of seconds the two of them had succumbed to some sort of primal urges and… became one.

They both weren’t thinking, their brains too distorted by alcohol to really understand what they were doing. They were only trying to get rid of the uncomfortable throbbing down below, so they didn’t even consider using lube or anything else that could have made the process a little less… regrettable the next day.

The sun coming up in the morning wasn’t enough to wake either of them up. They were both utterly exhausted from, well, a series of unfortunate events that led them to the situation they were currently in. It was only when an unassuming hotel employee entered the room to clean it that they realized how late it was.

The sound of the door opening was enough to frighten and startle them both. They glanced over at the woman who was staring at them wide eyed as if she had seen something she shouldn’t have.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize anyone was in here! I’ll excuse myself,” The woman said, covering her eyes as she fled the room, clearly embarrassed.

Francis wasn’t too concerned after he saw that it was just a housekeeper who had embarrassed herself by accidentally entering the room. He was genuinely oblivious to the whole situation due to the pounding headache from his hangover. So he carelessly drifted back asleep, figuring it was just because he had a tendency to sleep naked.

Arthur was going to fall back asleep since his head was killing him, too. He couldn’t quite remember the previous night, well, at all… but he just assumed that he had a hangover. It wasn’t like it was that bizarre of an occurrence for him. However, at first he did think it was strange that someone… Francis… was lying on top of him, but upon further thought that wasn’t really that strange either.

Something seemed off though, so Arthur shifted some as he tried to consider what it might be, his head hurting even worse the more he thought. What was truly bizarre was the way his ass stung when he shifted only slightly. No, actually, his ass… was terribly sore. He furrowed his eyebrows and shifted again, glancing down to get a better look at the man who was lying on top of him. The Frenchman had promised to wear pajamas if he was going to sleep in the same bed as him before, and yet… he was naked! Putting all of the pieces together, Arthur’s cheeks flushed and he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Instead of waking him up gently, Arthur woke the Frenchman up with a rough shove. Usually the two of them could get away with shoving one another rather playfully and it meant nothing, but this time it actually physically hurt and startled the other man.

“Ow! What’s your problem?!” Francis yelled, falling over on the other side of the bed and grabbing his shoulder where he had been shoved. It was honestly such a hard shove that he would probably be bruised later.

Francis had been startled by being woken up so aggressively, but once his initial shock wore off, he realized what sort of situation they were in. Normally, he would have blushed and maybe even said something smug about the whole thing, but instead he felt sick to his stomach. It was just like the wedding, wasn’t it? Something that was meant to be romantic and meaningful had been screwed up, and even worse, he could tell Arthur wouldn’t ever forgive him for it. He was going to truly hate him.

“What’s my problem?! You’re the pervert who put me in this situation! I should’ve known you would do something like this!” Arthur yelled, getting off the bed and pulling his underwear on. His ass hurt so bad, but he was mad enough that he could look past that for the time being.

“Arthur– you have the wrong idea! My head is killing me! I was drunk last night, too! I can’t remember anything!” Francis yelled back defensively as he stood up and walked over to Arthur who was getting dressed so quickly it looked like he was running away from a murderer or a monster. Maybe that was what Francis was to him now– a monster.

“Get away from me, you liar!” Arthur yelled, almost tripping himself on his pants that were halfway on so he could put more space between himself and the Frenchman. “You’re always like this– sleeping around with anyone you can get your hands on! Didn’t it ever occur to you that other people have feelings, too, and not everyone is comfortable with how close you get to them?” Arthur continued, no longer yelling as he became more level headed, his words clearly striking to kill.

And it was working, too. Francis was too shocked to speak. That was really what Arthur thought of him? Well, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t alluded to it before during their fight when they kissed, when Arthur said that Francis would take anyone. He truly thought that Francis was a pig, a nuisance that was in his way.

“I knew something was up when you said that you wanted to sleep in bed with me because you were too cold. You’re disgusting,” Arthur continued to insult the Frenchman, pointing his finger at him accusatively.

At the beginning of their argument, Francis had wanted to defend himself, to explain that he didn’t realize what happened until morning either, that he never intended on hurting the other man, but… he felt so low he felt numb. He could only take so many insults.

When Arthur didn’t get a response, he simply said, “Stay away from me,” and left the Frenchman’s room.

That was the last time the two of them spoke before they got on the plane to return to England. Francis was still hurt by Arthur’s insults, but he had wrongfully assumed that the Englishman would be willing to make small talk with him on the plane.

“I went to develop the photos yesterday. I think the–” Francis was cut off when Arthur abruptly stood up from his seat and walked over to the nearest flight attendant, asking if there was anyone in economy who would want to switch seats with him. He explained that he didn’t care if the seats were more cramped, he just absolutely didn’t want to sit in his original seat.

With that, Arthur disappeared to the back of the plane, not even glancing at the Frenchman as he walked past him.

The two of them had fought several times. It was sort of their thing. But, it was usually a more playful, competitive kind of fight. Neither one of them had ever given the other the silent treatment for any longer than a few minutes. This time, they hadn’t spoken in days.

It was a painfully long thirteen hour flight. The whole time Francis was plagued with the thought that things would never be normal again, or well, at least as normal as they were. Arthur, on the other hand, spent the whole flight thinking about how Francis had gotten him drunk on purpose and taken advantage of him. He was contemplating every oddly intimate gesture and glance that the Frenchman made towards him and how he must’ve had a perverted ulterior motive. They were both miserable.

When the plane landed, Francis got off first because he was closer to the front. He waited for Arthur, hoping he would at least acknowledge that they arrived at the airport in the same car together, but when he greeted him, he was still walked past and ignored.

“Arthur, you’re acting like such a child,” Francis lashed out when the other man walked past him without a single word or glance.

“Maybe if you weren’t a disgusting manipulative liar, I would acknowledge you,” Arthur replied, stopping, but not turning around to look at the other man. He really knew how to hurt the other man with his words.

“You’re just as much at fault for what happened as I am!” Francis said, raising his voice as he stomped over to walk in front of the other man and force him to look him in the eyes. “We were both drunk! I can’t remember anything other than the next morning either!”

For the first time in days, Arthur reluctantly made eye contact with Francis. His gaze alone was enough to hurt Francis. It was so cold.

“You know what? Let’s say that’s true– that you really were drunk and you can’t remember anything. There’s still something worth noting– you aren’t disgusted by what happened, and I am,” Arthur said coldly, pushing past the Frenchman again.

Francis froze because what Arthur said was absolutely true and it devastated him. He understood why Arthur was upset– the whole thing was an accident, after all, but… the fact that he was disgusted with him and kept telling him over and over again really wounded him.

Arthur figured Francis was still following behind him, that he would get in the car and they wouldn’t speak on the way home, but when he opened the car door and nonchalantly glanced behind himself to see what the Frenchman was doing, he was surprised to see that he hadn’t followed him. He felt a bit guilty and hesitated for a second, but then he reminded himself that Francis was an adult with a job, so he was probably paying for a taxi, so he left.

The Englishman assumed that the Frenchman’s reluctance to respond or follow him after what he said was an answer in itself– Francis really must not have minded that they had sex.

Francis was indeed taking a taxi back to their house, but it still hurt to know that Arthur wasn’t even concerned enough to send a text asking how he planned on getting home. He honestly didn’t make too much money working part time at a flower shop, so he would be spending most of his savings on the expensive airport taxi, but he was dejected enough that he supposed it was worth it.

Francis got home later than Arthur because he had to wait for the taxi. He noticed that no one was home, but that Arthur had definitely already been there because his luggage was in the kitchen. He figured the Englishman must’ve left immediately in hopes that they wouldn’t run into each other.

The Frenchman went upstairs with his own suitcases and slowly unpacked his things, hoping that he would hear the familiar sound of keys jingling as they unlocked the front door downstairs, but hours passed and he hadn’t heard anything. When he came across the photos he developed and the silly sun hats and sunglasses, he broke down.

#hetalia #aph france #hws france #fruk #aph england #hws england #aph fruk #hws fruk #hetalia fruk #francis bonnefoy #arthur kirkland #hetalia france #hetalia england #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #ao3fic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

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pangolinheart · 8 months

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FFXIVWrite 2023 DAY 2 - BARK

Rhiki could never say no to Riqi-Tio. She's not a monster.

I tried to write something cute for this one! It's a little outside of my usual wheelhouse, so I hope it turned out okay.

Rating: General Genre: Fluff Characters: Z'rhiki Irhi (Warrior of Light), Riqi-Tio Word Count: 2021 Content Warnings: None

“Miss Rhiki! Miss Rhiki!”

The combination of the small voice calling her name and the tugging at her sleeve woke Z’rhiki from her daydreaming. She looked down to see a pair of big blue eyes looking up at her.

“Oh, hi Riqi-Tio! I didn’t see you down there.”

The girl’s pupils widened. “Y-you remembered my name!” She said, her voice brimming with awe.

In the face of such earnest excitement, Rhiki couldn’t help but beam. “Of course I did!” she responded. “It’s the same as my name, after all! Well, sort of.”

“I-It is!” Riqi-Tio had evidently not considered the similarity in the sounds of their names before, and appeared all the more eager for it. She still hadn’t released Rhiki’s sleeve.

“Yup!” Rhiki nodded, still smiling. “Now, what can I do for you, other-Riqi?”

“Uh…” In her wonderment it appeared that the girl had forgotten what it was she had wanted to ask the Warrior of Darkness. “Oh! C-can you help me? Eirwel and Arkil said that you’re too busy and I shouldn’t bother you, b-but…!”

But a few minutes ago, Rhiki might have agreed that she was quite busy – between assisting with Ryne’s efforts in the Empty, contributing to Eulmore’s reconstruction, and participating in the search for a method to return the Scions to the Source, she had a lot on her plate and more on her mind. In that moment, though, she could think of nothing more important than helping little Riqi-Tio with whatever it was she was endeavoring to accomplish.

“Of course I can help you! We Rhikis have to stick together, after all!”

She hadn’t thought the girl’s eyes could get any larger, but they certainly seemed to. “O-Okay!” She rustled through the pocket on one side of her long pastel coat, then switched to the other. Rhiki waited patiently until she finally retrieved a piece of paper, which she held up for Rhiki to read. It appeared to be a hand-written list. Riqi-Tio pointed to one of the entries, “I don’t know what this one is….”

Rhiki knelt down so the girl could more easily show her the unfolded parchment. Upon closer inspection, it looked to be a list of herbs and other ingredients, written in the neat, swooping script..

“Miss Chessamile gave me this list. She asked me to bring it all back to the infirmary,” Riqi-Tio explained. “But, I don’t know where to get ligan-… ligna….”

“Lignum Vitae bark,” Rhiki supplied. She glanced at some of the other items that had already been marked with a check; bright flax, lime basil, harcot, light gerbera…

“Did you know where to find the rest of these on your own?” She asked, impressed.

Riqi-Tio shook her head. “No. But Miss Chessamile said a real Warrior of Light always asks for help! So, I asked other people, and they helped me.”

Rhiki nodded sagely. “She’s right. Miss Chessamile is very smart, isn’t she?” It always broke her heart to hear children talking excitedly about wanting to become Warriors of Light. She couldn’t stand the thought of them having to bear the burdens of an entire realm, or being forced to witness all of the pain and tragedy the world had to offer. But she also didn’t have it in her to crush their well-meaning dreams. She was glad, at least, the Chessamile was using the moniker to teach the right sort of lessons. “Hmm… I think Lignum Vitae trees grow in Lakeland….”

“All the way in Lakeland?” Riqi-Tio chirped. “But… I can’t go to Lakeland by myself….”

With one hand Rhiki reached up and mussed the girl’s soft, white hair. “Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got me to take you, then!”

“Really?” The young mystel’s voice came out as a gasp, her stubby tail standing on end. Rhiki could almost feel her vibrating with excitement. She grinned.

“Sure, why not?” She paused, “But, we should probably ask Miss Chessamile, first.”

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“Is that one?” Riqi-Tio pointed to one of the passing trees from her place on Lieutenant Nibbles’ back.

Though Chessamile had been dubious of the proposal at first, and had pointed out that Lignum Vitae bark could be obtained from the botanists in the Crystalline Mean, Riqi-Tio’s enthusiasm for the trip had won her over. Besides, she and Rhiki had reasoned, if one couldn’t be safe traveling in the company of the Warrior of Darkness, when could they? So, with a solemn promise to return the little girl unharmed, they had set off on their errand. Not wanting to overly tax her charge, Rhiki had offered her a ride on the back of her chocobo, which she had eagerly accepted. The Lieutenant had always been a patient, responsible sort, and didn’t seem to mind carrying such a tiny rider.

Rhiki squinted at the tree, then glanced down at the gathering log she held open in the hand that wasn’t wrapped in the chocobo’s reigns. “Uhhh… I don’t think so. The wood looks too light. Let’s look for a different kind.”

“Okay.” Riqi-Tio settled back into the saddle and resumed diligently scanning the landscape for candidates.

“Oh, what about-“ the girl suddenly stopped short, before pointing fervently again, this time to the south. “Miss Rhiki! Look! That one’s moving!”

“Huh?” Rhiki looked up in the direction Riqi-Tio was indicating. “Oh! That’s not a tree. It’s a violet triffid. It’s an animal… Well, sort of, I guess. It’s a seedkin, anyway.”

“Triffid,” Riqi-Tio repeated, eyes still fixed on the lumbering giant. “What does it eat? People?”

Rhiki giggled a bit, nudging Riqi-Tio with her elbow. “Don’t worry, I don’t think it eats little mystel.” She said. “Actually, that’s a good question. What do violet triffid’s eat? I’m not sure.... Maybe… purple carrots?”

It was Riqi-Tio’s turn to giggle. “That’s silly!” She pointed out.

“Well, what do you think they eat, then?”

“Uhh… Pixie apples!”

The two continued to speculate about the dietary preferences of violet triffids, until a copse of dark-trunked trees caught Rhiki’s eye.

“Oh, those look like the ones we want!”

“R-really?” Riqi-Tio scrambled out of the Lieutenant’s saddle, almost falling sideways off of it before Rhiki caught her and set her gently on the ground.

“Careful!” She reminded. Pocketing her gathering log, she reached over to the girl. “Here, take my hand.”

When one of Riqi-Tio’s small hands wrapped around hers, Rhiki led them closer to the small grove. Up close, she could see the distinctive grooves in the bark that the log had indicated. “Yep, these are the ones we want!”

“Yay!” Riqi-Tio beamed. She stretched her free arm out to run her hand along the trunk of one of the trees. “But how do we get the bark off?”

“I’ll show you,” Rhiki offered, releasing her hand and shrugging her pack from her shoulders. Riqi-Tio waited patiently while she retrieved a knife and a sack for collecting their prize.

“Like this! First, you have to make a little cut, and saw back and forth.” She demonstrated, shuffling to kneel next to the tree so that Riqi-Tio could watch. She dug the blade of the knife into the tree with a bit of effort, then wiggled it to pry the bark loose from the wood. “Then, you can grab the bark that’s sticking out and pull down!” Following her own instructions, she grasped the tab she had created with the knife and pulled, until the strip of bark tapered off and broke from the tree. “See? Not too hard.”

Riqi-Tio watched with rapt attention, nodding after each sentence to demonstrate she was listening. Rhiki offered her the sack, then the strip of bark she had just harvested, which the girl dutifully stowed away.

Rhiki nodded approvingly and had started her next incision, a few ilms away from the first, when Riqi-Tio interrupted her.

“Can I help?”

“Uh…” Rhiki considered this for a moment. “Sure! How about this? I’ll make the cut, and then you can pull the bark off. Sound good? Be careful, it’s a little rough – you don’t want to scrape your hand. If you need help, just let me know.”

“Okay!” Riqi-Tio waited until the beginnings of a strip had been cut loose, then reached up to peel the bark down. Rhiki watched her struggle to pull a piece free, smiling warmly.

“Need help?”

“No! I can do it!” Riqi-Tio insisted. She pulled harder, leveraging the entire weight of her tiny body, and finally managed to pull a portion free. She displayed the fruits of her labor to Rhiki, who clapped enthusiastically.

“Good work! Ready for the next one?”

Riqi-Tio shoved the scrap into the sack she had set aside. “Yeah!”

The next strip was easier, and the one after that still easier. They moved to a different tree, not wanting to cut too much bark from a single one, and repeated the process. They worked in tandem, cutting and peeling bark, for quite some time, before Rhiki noticed Riqi-Tio’s energy beginning to flag. She glanced down at their haul and found the bag to be at least half full.

“All right, we should have enough! Let’s do one more, then we can go back to the Crystarium.”

“Okay! Can I ride on Mr. Nibbles again?”

“It’s Lieutenant Nibbles,” Rhiki snickered, digging her knife into another piece of bark. “He worked hard for that rank!”

“Lewtenant Nibbles,” Riqi-Tio corrected solemnly.

Distracted by her amusement, Rhiki angled the knife incorrectly and it slipped through the bark, nicking one of her fingers where her hand had been braced against the trunk. “Ow! Shi- I mean, Wicked White!”

“Are you okay?!” Riqi-Tio gasped while Rhiki pulled her hand back and waved it wildly at her side to cool the sting of the cut.

“Ow, ow!” She hissed, placing the tip of her finger to her mouth and tasting blood. She looked down at the small slice in her finger pad. It hurt, certainly, but she could tell it was nothing serious. To Riqi-Tio she said, “Yeah, I’m fine. No need to worry! It’s just a little cut. See? This is why you have to be careful with knives!”

“Can I see?” the small girl reached both hands up towards Rhiki’s. “I can help!”

Rhiki hesitated for a few seconds before proffering her hand to Riqi-Tio. “It’s okay, really. Just a scratch, see?”

“No, I can help!” Riqi-Tio repeated, resolute. Reaching deep into one of her coat pockets and fished out a small roll of bandages. She grasped Rhiki’s injured finger with one of her small hands and, with some difficulty, wrapped a bandage around the tip of it with the other. Fondness bloomed in Rhiki’s chest as she watched the young girl work.

Riqi-Tio pulled the edge of the bandage free from the roll and tied it in place with surprisingly adroit movements. “Ta da! All better!”

“Wow! It is all better!” Rhiki marveled in exaggerated wonder. She reached out with her newly bandaged hand to once again pat Riqi-Tio’s head. The little mystel’s ears wiggled in delight. “You’re going to be the best apothecary ever.”

Riqi-Tio was aglow with pride. “Yeah!” She exclaimed as Rhiki set back to collecting the last piece of bark. “When I grow up, I’m going to make the best potions in the whole world! And then I’ll give them to you so you can be safe on your adventures!”

“I can’t wait.” Rhiki grinned. “Well, shall we head back to the Crystarium and deliver all this bark to Chessamile?” She plucked the sack from the ground and held it up for Riqi-Tio to see before stuffing it, along with her knife, back in her pack.

“Yeah!”

Rhiki slung her pack back over her shoulder and walked with Riqi-Tio over to where Lieutenant Nibbles had been waiting, uncomplaining, watching the proceedings. She helped the child onto the chocobo’s back, and they set off back in the direction of the Crystarium, chatting.

“See that island over there?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s actually a big turtle!”

“Nuh-uh! There’s not turtles that big!”

“Yuh-huh! It is! His name is Bismarck.”

“How do you know his name?”

“He told me.”

“Turtles can’t talk!”

“This one can!”

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite 2023 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #shadowbringers #riqi-tio #rhiki tag #this is late once again #but i really wanted to go to the beach so i took a break haha #hopefully i'll be more punctual when the deadlines start #anyway I love little riqi-tio #she deserves the world

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impishtubist · 8 months

Note

Sirius is high key judging everyone by the time the Amortentia lesson rolls around. It’s bad enough he’s got to deal with all of them being hormonal idiots all the time and right in front of his dinner too (he claims it wasn’t him, but everyone suspects he’s the one who magically separated the two Sixth Year Gryffindors who were more interested in locating one another’s tonsils than their dinner back in Fifth Year. They’re right), now he’s gotta deal with it in class. James is saying it smells like Lily’s perfume, he’s fairly sure he heard one Slytherin saying it smelled like popcorn with ham and frankly he doesn’t want to know anything else about that kid’s bad taste, Remus is moodily saying it smells like the moon and Sirius wants to know what the hell that even smells like, Avery is claiming it smells like firewhiskey and lemon and Sirius will launch himself across the desks if Avery makes one more reference to that day, Lily is wondering why it smells like sandalwood and citrus and Sirius hopes (without much expectation this will come to fruition) that James doesn’t hear right then because that’s exactly what his cologne smells like and Sirius just doesn’t want to deal with it right now, Peter’s a jarring shade of lime green and Sirius doesn’t know how the hell he went so wrong with it and is making plans to grab the people closest to them out of the way when that thing explodes, and Sirius still smells nothing but the ingredients. He has to forcibly separate 2 different couples who are getting far to frisky for his liking in class, don’t think he didn’t see those hands wandering into dangerous territory and he’s a very firm believer that clothing stays on during class and “don’t test me on this Rosier, I don’t care how pretty you think Natasha is, I will personally tell this entire class about July 1972 if you even think about subjecting me to you two shoving your tongues down each other’s throats” and Rosier reluctantly complies (Sirius hates 98% of the people he grew up with, but that shared history has its uses). Class ends and Sirius just hauls his little group out with a magical lasso, he’s having none of this and is idly contemplating murdering Slughorn for making it his problem (he’d never do it, but he’s spectacularly annoyed right now)

oh no I would die for aroace Sirius, he's so Tired and so Over It 😭

#imp speaks #sirius black

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milkywaygg · 8 months

Text

The Cosmas REVAMP (Chapter 2)

After saying goodbye to Nora, desperate to leave her alone to stay on her good side, Linnie left the building as he dug around in his pants pocket, feeling his heart drop slightly as the normally sitting bottle spray was not there. Once he had left the building, Linnie turned and hid in the corner of the building to take his phone out of his bag, shuffling the many textbooks that he had brought with him. Turning it on, he clicked on his twin sister, Daisy’s, contact information and sent her a message, hoping that he wasn’t too late.

Daisy? Are you still awake?

Nah. Just cramming for this stupid history test tomorrow. Why?

You wouldn’t mind picking me up, would you? I really don’t think I should fly home by myself. I left my pepperspray at home.

You don’t have your wand on you? Can’t you teleport home?

I don’t have my license yet. I have to re-take the test remember?

Right right. Yea, gimmie a min to find my wand. I’d take the car but mom and dad are asleep, hence why they didn’t blow up ur phone given how late it is lol.

I know I know. I’m sorry. I just lost track of time and…I met someone.

Oooo you don’t say? I’ll be there in 2 mins, then you’ve got some tea to spill, Mister!

Laughing slightly, Linnie kept himself hidden as he shoved the few books that he had pulled out back in his bag, careful not to let any of them smash his wand. He sighed somewhat disappointedly at his wand as his mind replayed all the failed practical exams he had faced, due to being somewhat magically inferior to most of the student population. While Daisy was able to teleport on her first try on exam day, Linnie hadn’t managed at all, and when given a second chance, he teleported with an arm and a leg missing, literally. He also remembered what happened earlier that day during class, where the baby had shrunk him accidentally, and he was left squealing in the corner until his teacher had helped him. With every lesson, Linnie felt a wave of laughter overwhelm him as he failed every spell and counter spell, despite knowing everything in theory. He knew the wand movements, he knew the correct incantations, but somehow..it never turned out in his favor.

Catching him off guard, a loud POOF suddenly appeared in front of him, forcing Linnie to clutch his chest and fall backwards. Daisy, a tall girl with shoulder-length green hair and hexagon shaped glasses behind her pastel green eyes, smirked slightly as she helped her brother out.

“You just can’t stay outta trouble, can you?”, she said jokingly, “What are you doing back here? I expected you near the front door or something.”

‘I-I-I just didn’t want anyone to see me, and try to rob me. I-I forgot my stuff back at the house.”

“Rob us? Shit, if they robbed us, I would have been like, wait? We got money?”, Daisy laughed, grabbing his wand out as she grabbed Linnie’s arm, “Now come on. Wouldn’t want to keep mom and dad worried.”

Linnie felt as if his body were being crushed as Daisy teleported him and herself back towards their bedrooms, split into two different sides. Both sides had a desk for school stuff against the lime green walls, and Daisy’s laptop illuminated her agricultural studies and history textbooks that were lied around, alongside papers and pens. The twins’ beds stood next to each other in the middle of the room, while a single lamp shined in the corner. Linnie tossed his backpack onto his bed and took a seat on the desk, resting his arm a bit as Daisy smiled at him.

“Sooo…you gonna tell me about this mystery woman?”, Daisy pried, making Linnie squirm slightly.

“Well, it wasn’t a date or anything. She just looked so sad and I thought maybe she wanted someone to talk to.”

“Uh huh…”, Daisy said, urging Linnie to go into more detail. “What’s she look like? She got a name.”

“She had this curly, cyan hair and was wearing a letterman jacket, kind of like how all the football players wear?”, Linnie started to explain, but grew worried as Daisy’s smile started to fade, “What? What’s the matter?”

“Not Nora Cosma.”

“Um…yes..her. Why?”

“Linnie, lemme ask you something.”, Daisy asked, rubbing her temples slightly. Of all the people he could have interacted with tonight, he chose her?! “Do you know her well?”

“Not really. I mean, we do have AP Literature together, and occasionally I’ll watch her play before we go perform with the band for half time. Why?”

“Ehhh…I think you should be careful around her, Lin.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Well…she’s not exactly student of the year, if you catch my drift.”, Daisy shrugged, re-counting the last few interactions with Nora. “You know how I was late to first period this morning? That bitch shoved me in the locker in the men’s room, and everyone thought I was some sort of pervert. Thanks to her, I’ve got detention for the next two weeks. Thank the stars I didn’t get suspended.”

“Did mom and dad get upset at you?”

“They did until I told them what happened. Mom’s gonna make a call to the school in the morning about it.”, Daisy sighed, “But anyways, I don’t think Nora’s the type of person you want to be associated with.”

“Oh dear. I wish I would have know all that happened to you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not you fault. Just please..”, Daisy pleaded, “If you do get involved with her, please please be careful. I don’t think she’s going to treat you right if you do get with her. I mean, you saw what she did to me, and I’ve overheard her a million times about how weak she thinks men are, so..”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I think she’s taken already.”, Linnie shrugged, “She was on her phone most of the time I was there and looked like she was texting someone, so I’m not sure. I-I wasn’t going to get with her or anything, but I just wanted to make sure she as doing ok.”

“Damn Linnie, you’re a better person than me. If that were me, I’d have let her suffer.”, Daisy said, “Anyways, I gotta get back to my studying. Let me know if the light disturbs you.”

“Really quick, Daisy? Can I ask you a question?”, Linnie asked softly, shuffling in his seat. Daisy nodded. “Do you um…think I’m stupid?”

“What? No! Why would you ask that? Are you crazy?”, Daisy asked, the question sending her into shocked, “Why? Did she call you stupid. Why I outta-“

“No no no! Please! She didn’t say anything to me, I promise!”, Linnie said, his voice getting somewhat high pitched, “No. It’s just…I’ve been thinking about all those practical tests that I keep messing up and today I had a bit of an accident in class.”

“What happened?”

“Well, you know that daycare class I keep asking you to join me in…Dina, that baby that I mentor, accidentally got a hold of Mr. Langston’s wand today and shrunk me with it, and well, you know I’m still struggling to transform correctly, so I had to try not to get eaten by this giant cockroach while the rest of the class searched for the wand.”

“Ooo ouch! Are you ok? Did she hurt you?”

“Not on purpose. The poor dear. She felt so bad and didn’t know what she was doing.”

“Yikes. See, that’s why I prefer pets over babies and children. They can’t use wands like we can.”

“Well I know, but I don’t know. I love cats and dogs but taking care of children just makes me feel extra warm inside. I don’t know. Just…I’m not mad at Dina or anything. It was just an accident after all. It’s just..sometimes I think I’m too dependent on other people to come and send me. I’m just wondering if I’m stupid or weak.”

“Ha! You’re not stupid or weak by any means! Hell, you always make the best grades in history and literature, since you aren’t waving a magic wand or anything. You’re crazy good at theories and stuff, and it takes an incredibly amount of patience to babysit and care for those children they way you do and never ask in return.”, Daisy said, smiling at Linnie, who seemed to perk up a little bit, “Just..the practical part of school just takes time to develop, and everyone develops at a different speed. Some people are born incredibly powerful while others have to wait a while longer. You’re so patient with everyone else, but sometimes, I think you forget to be patient with yourself.”

“I know, but it’s so much easier said that done. I really don’t know how you do it, Daisy.”

“Just takes time. Just know that if you need help, I’ve got your back, and I’m not gonna let anyone mess with you..ever. Now, you should probably get some sleep. We gotta be up bright and early for this stupid test.” Linnie smiled at his sister thankfully as he moved his backpack from the bed to his desk chair, before changing into his pajamas and settling into bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone before eventually zonking out, tuning out his sister’s typing on her computer. Though he still tossed and turned as he continued to think about everything that had happened at school and the coffee shop, he eventually let his sister’s words soothe him through the night, lucky that he was born a twin.

#fairly oddparents #cosma family #fanfic #au

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kryie · 1 year

Text

Guitar practice

A Javier Escuella fic

summary- javier spots you watching him play guitar and offers you a lesson

The important stuff:

Word count- 864

fluff

“lime”

“What are you doing over there?” A voice called to you from the right, sat by the river bank under a tree covered by the late evening shade from it leaves, you didn’t expect anyone to notice you there. You’d been listening to Javier practice his songs from a distance while he too sat along side the river bank propped up by an old piece of drift wood washed up long ago.

“I was listening to you play…” You hadn’t planned what you’d explain to him if he spotted you, thinking the tree and his concentration on his playing would provide enough cover for you to watch and admire him from this distance.

“From over there?…” his head was tilted in amusement.

“Your sat away from camp and looked so focused i didn’t know if you wanted company and didn’t want to disturb you. I’m sorry.”

“well you have now” he replied jokingly as sarcasm laced his tone, “don’t worry it’s alright i don’t mind you listening while i practice. Come sit with me, please.”

The please was sincere, his voice softened as he said it and suddenly you weren’t as nervous about sitting with him as you had been when thinking of it before.

You took a seat down next to him, leaving plenty of space between you two through panic of getting too close. Although his presence was definitely comforting you found there was still an irrational fear of making a fool of yourself in front of him that lingered over you that you couldn’t shake. Javier patted the space signalling you to come closer.

“You seem tense is something wrong?” Again his sincerity was comforting, seeming so genuinely concerned for you made the pace in your chest quicken.

“No i’m alright. Honest.”

He gave a small nod and went back to playing.

“have you played before?”

“i’m afraid not. I’ve tried but never gotten very far i don’t think i’m quiet talented enough for that.”

Javier gave a small laugh and placed his guitar down beside him.

“i can teach you if you’d like, it’s not as intimidating once you get started i promise.”

You took a moment to consider the offer. His guitar was a favourite pastime of his and a genuine enjoyment so to share it with you was undoubtedly sweet of him so it seemed there wasn’t much to consider.

“i don’t know how to hold it though.”

He flashed a soft smile at you. “That’s fine just come closer and i’ll show you.”

He opened his legs and once again patted the ground for you to sit there in between them. The sudden intimacy of the situation he was proposing hit you as you moved closer to him and his arms came to wrap around you, guiding your arms to the instrument. He pressed the back of the guitar close to your body and inadvertently pressed his chest to your back in the process.

“you need the body close to you so it’s comfortable to play, and-“ he took your hands in his and gently curled your fingers around the neck of the guitar, his fingers lingering for a moment before guiding your others to rest on the body of the guitar.

“Hand positioning is important with posture.” He placed his hands on your sides and you could feel his gaze fixed on the way they hugged your body. Javier pulled you closer to him to straighten your back.

“hope i’m not being too rash here, let me know if you want me to stop and let go.” His voice purred in your ears, he was so close.

“this is good- i mean don’t worry it’s ok”

he could tell you were shy, not through being uncomfortable but because of the intimacy of the situation.

“relax cariño” he whispered, “you don’t have to be shy, and if we’re going too fast i can slow down for you and if you want to stop you just have to say understand?” He looked at you with a serious but soft expression and waited for your response. You gave a nod and he gently cupped your face, stroking your cheek.

“i have to admit i’ve thought about this before.”

Just as you realised what he had said Javier pressed his lips to yours. His hands snaked under your legs to hoist you onto his lap- legs wrapping around his waist.

You broke the kiss to speak and he huffed in frustration.

“Javi-“ he continued to kiss your neck while you spoke.

“hmmm? What is it mi cielo?”

“the camp. They can probably see us…”

his lips stayed on your neck as he mumbled his reply- “i’m enjoying myself right now let them see.” You could feel his lips curve into a smirk as he continued trailing kisses down your neck.

“Javier please someone is going to see us…”

“and why would that be an issue?”

He looked at you smiling like he had no idea why it might seem like an embarrassing problem. He was certainly enjoying playing dumb while he teased.

“If you want we can go back to my tent and i can teach you some more there…”

#rdr2 #rdr javier #javier escuella #rdr2 fanfic #rdr1

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just-another-storyteller · 1 year

Text

Unbroken Shine

Emerald, a young Seldnac'Rae, was just headed home, when someone was in dire need of her help...

POV: 3rd Person Warnings: Bullying, injury Word count: 819

Emmy felt the warmth of the setting sun on her back. Soon, its bright light would be replaced by the soft glow of Arbalednac's leaves and grasses. Or so Emmy assumed; she'd never been outside that late, only seen it from windows. Her parents worried easily, so she always tried to be home before dark. In a few years, Emmy would be an adult, and then she could explore Arbalednac at night all she wanted.

Right now, though, she was headed home, when a scream cut through the air.

Emmy found herself running in its direction before she'd even realized what she'd heard, heart beating so hard it felt like it might burst, paws drumming on the ground.

The scream had come from a Grimalkin Seldnac, a lynx, maybe a year or two younger than Emmy. They were cowering on the ground, the purple flames on their tufted ears flickering erratically. Towering above them were two Vargkins, bigger and older than Emmy, snickering to each other.

“Hey!” Emmy called out as she jumped between the duo and their target. “Pick on someone your own size!”

One of them, a hyena with swirling lime-colored markings, leaned in until their fangs were just inches from Emmy’s face. “Oh? You mean like you?”

Emmy fought the instinct to cower, and instead let her flames and markings glow brightly, their green light reflecting in the hyena’s eyes. She didn’t answer—didn’t trust her voice to be steady enough for that—but growled, hoping the younger Seldnac would flee, though she didn’t dare look away from the hyena to check.

“Hey, what are you, a puppy or a deer?” the other Seldnac, a wolf like Emmy, asked, nudging Emmy’s antlers with his snout.

The hyena laughed. “Aww, prey trying to fight back?”

“I’m not prey!” Emmy defended herself, but she couldn’t help but flinch when the wolf’s dark red flames flickered higher.

“She’s cheeky prey, I’ll give her that!”

The hyena finally took a step back, still standing too close for comfort. “Maybe we should teach her a lesson.”

“Hmm…” The wolf tilted his head to the side.

He moved faster than Emmy’s eyes could follow. Pain shot through her head as sharp fangs locked onto her ear and the soft fuzz covering her antler, pressing them together.

Emmy yelped, then growled, then whined, but the wolf didn’t relent. “Let go!” She tried to break free, but his grip was too strong, and the pain only worsened the more she struggled. “Please!” When begging didn’t help, she tried to snap at him, but he was too large, out of reach of her teeth.

“Seems like she still hasn’t learned!” the hyena howled. “You’ve gotta show her!”

With a deep growl, the wolf began throwing his head left and right.

Emmy’s front paws were lifted off the ground as a new bout of white-hot pain shot through her, not quite drowning out a sickening crunch just before she fell to the ground, her eyes clenched shut.

The wolf snorted and turned away. “Hope you’ll know better next time.” His footsteps moved away from Emmy. “Come on, before those brats’ parents get here.”

“Good plan!” The hyena’s footsteps followed, slowly fading the further they got away.

Emmy’s head hurt too much to speak or get up. She just lay still, trying to keep her jagged breaths as steady as possible.

The other Seldnac licked Emmy’s ear, trying to clean away the blood, but more kept flowing. “I’m sorry,” they repeated again and again. “I’m so sorry.”

The pain slowly faded enough for Emmy to pry her eyes open, her vision filled with reddish fur and purple glow. Her left eye burned when some blood dripped into it, so she quickly shut it again, only keeping the right one open.

“Can you make it to your parents? Should I help you? Should I go get them? Can you tell me which way?”

Part of Emmy wished that the other Seldnac had gotten hurt instead of her, but she knew that was unfair. As the pain dulled, Emmy managed to catch her breath. “Just… Just give me… a moment.”

The lynx nodded and went back to trying to clean Emmy’s wound.

Finally, the pain faded enough for Emmy to push herself up, but as soon as she did, the world started spinning. The lynx pressed themself against her flank, preventing her from falling again.

“I’ll help you,” they promised. “Just tell me where to.”

Emmy nodded, causing a fresh pang of pain to shoot through her. “This way…”

She took a few unsure steps towards home, trying not the stumble over the piece of broken antler on the ground. With the lynx pressing against her even warmer than the evening sun, Emmy made her way back home, arriving long after the stars had taken the sun’s place on the clear sky.

#seldnac #seldnac rae #seldnac'rae #xenofiction #short stories #short story #flash fiction #writeblr #writerblr #my writing #am writing #Emmy (Seldnac)

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horribleauthortm · 2 years

Text

Actual Day 3 thing cause that Isaac/Monika thing doesn't count-

Prompt: Pay Attention || Games We Play

Words: 821

IBVS by @onebizarrekai

Colors.

Weird colors and shapes.

Purple, with hints of lime green, a few yellow sparkles here and there.

Was he seeing things?

Blue, a couple reddish ovals sprinkled between.

Drew couldn’t help but stare at the floating shapes, which he had been seeing since he woke up that morning. At first, he thought he was still sleepy and half-dreaming when he looked at his brother and found the cloud of randomly colored ‘bubbles’ around him. He even found it funny, Nevin’s grumpy morning-face through all the blues, reds, and purples.

…

It wasn’t funny anymore.

What even is this?

Is he going crazy or what?

He’s not mad, come on. What are you thinking?

…

Maybe it’s some neuro-thingy disorder. This type of thing was a symptom of some of them, right? He read about something like that before, what was it called? Synesthesia? Synthetic hallucinations? Maybe some type of schizophrenia, could that be it?

But it wouldn’t show up suddenly, right? Just yesterday everything was normal. Nothing could have happened between the evening and this morning. It’s not like it would just ‘awaken’ randomly. That’s not how it works.

What else could it be? It’s either that or he’s going crazy, and frankly, he preferred the first possibility.

Okay, he’s not crazy, he’s just got some hallucinating disorder.

Should he tell someone about this? If it is some disorder like that, he would need to address it, right? What if it evolves and gets worse, or branches out into more life-altering side-effects? He’ll need treatment, wouldn’t he?

He really didn’t want to have to tell anyone. Would they even believe him if he did? They’d probably think he’s lying or playing around.

And even if they did, they’re too busy to take him for diagnosis.

There’s no need to bother them with it. It’s not that bad. If it gets worse, then he’ll think about telling them.

…

What if he tells Nevin? Would he laugh at him and think he’s joking too? What if he thinks he’s crazy?

…

No, Nevin would believe him.

He glanced up at Nevin, who was sitting across the table from him.

Forget it, it’s not like he would be able to do much about it, either.

Nevin was looking back at him.

Orange?

“Drew!”

Drew jerked his head up, looking at the man sitting to his left.

Red, orange.

“Yes, sir?”

“Were you listening to me just now?”

“Of course, Mr. Baker.” He smiled nervously.

The tutor stared silently at him.

Orange, green.

“What’s the answer then?”

Crap.

Drew glanced back at his brother. The shapes were now of a red-purple palette. He was looking at him weird. “Five,” he mouthed, after making sure Mr. Baker was focused on Drew.

He turned back to the older man. “Ummmm…five?”

Red, green.

“Nevin,” Mr. Baker said sternly, side-eyeing him, “I’m asking him, not you.”

Drew looked at his brother.

Blue, red, purple.

“Sorry, sir.” Nevin huffed under his breath, propping his elbow on the table and leaning his head on his hand. He looked up at the other.

“Solve the next one, Drew.”

Drew took a deep breath, gulping then turning to the book sitting open in front of him.

What was he supposed to solve again?

“I’m sorry,” the boy mumbled, looking up at the formally-dressed man, “What number do you want me to solve?”

Orange, magenta.

The man sighed. “Drew, are you alright?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been distracted since the beginning of the lesson, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, that.” Drew laughed nervously. “I, uh, didn’t get much sleep last night?”

He did not like this.

The man raised an eyebrow, “Oh? And why is that?”

Please just tell me what to solve and move on.

“I…had a nightmare.”

“Uh huh.” He nodded slowly, “Well, I hope it didn’t scare you too bad.” He gave him a small smile.

Magenta, reddish-pink.

Drew chuckled, hoping this conversation was over.

“Which one should I solve?”

“Thirteen. You’ll need your notebook for it.”

“Okay.”

Drew pulled his notebook from the side, turning to a blank page somewhere near the end.

Find the GCF and LCM of the following numbers, then write each fraction in the simplest form:

He copied the numbers to his paper when a phone rang. Mr. Baker picked it up.

“Hello? Yeah, this is Derrell Baker, who’s with me? Oh, Jenny! Sorry, I didn’t save your number yet.”

The conversation was tuned out. Drew side-eyed the teacher.

Yellow, sparkles of magenta.

Drew took a deep breath.

“Psst, Drew.”

He turned to the black-haired boy.

Blue, orange, some reddish-pink here and there.

“What’s up?” He mouthed, sparing the tutor, who was looking off into the wall as he spoke, a side glance.

The boy smiled and gave his brother a quick thumbs-up. He then turned back to his work, noticing that Nevin was still looking at him.

But Nevin wasn’t.

He was looking only slightly higher.

#ibvsweek2022 #ibvsfanfic #ibvs #nevin jovel #drew jovel #isaac beamer versus the supernatural #i have no idea how true this is to their timeline #i dont know what age they were at when they got their powers #or when they were staying with their mom #im just winging it-

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be-events · 1 year

Photo

once again, all trainees from lime entertainment, sr media, and studio delta are gathered in the auditorium at the seoul arts center. the dust has settled since wrapping up the last of the private feedback methods when it comes to evaluations—some with a lot to say and others of few words—all coaches remained completely silent immediately following the completion of each performance. if anyone questioned it, they simply explained that they’d need to discuss privately before giving their final feedback.

judgment day has come and all trainees anxiously await just what their coaches are going to say as they take the stage again, notes in hand.

“first of all, i want to congratulate all trainees on a job well done. everyone completed the assignment without any injury or major catastrophe,” lee haesun from sr media speaks first, smiling into her microphone as she surveys the crowd as if to make eye contact with each and every one of the trainees in front of her. “while we do have notes, we’re pleased with what we’re seeing from our trainees overall. great job, everyone,”

lime entertainment’s kim chanhee clears his throat before taking his turn to speak. “all that said, no one had a perfect performance. you were all given complete control over this evaluation; no requirements or limitations to try to work within. while many of your played to your strengths, you may have highlighted your weaknesses by mistake in doing so.”

“as a team, we’ve decided what aspect of your performance needed the most immediate improvement,” yoo youngmin, the studio delta representative coach, takes over the conversation. “and rather than just present you with the problems, we’re also assigning tasks to fix them. for the next month, some of your free training periods will be dedicated to various lessons or activities that will help improve your overall performance as a future idol.”

youngmin, haesun, and chanhee all straighten out the papers in front of them, referencing their notes one more time, before they start to call trainees one by one, telling them what their performance lacked and how they plan to fix it.

“KIM DANNY,” chanhee calls his company’s trainee by name, “we all noted that using a prop in your performance was an interesting choice to provide a little more interest to the performance. however, we felt that you didn’t utilize it in the most creative or engaging ways. we didn’t feel the purpose of the fan, just an acknowledgement that you had one in your hand. for that reason, we’ve enrolled you in improv acting classes for the next month. our hope is that you’ll start looking at performance props in more creative ways after these lessons.”

chanhee glances at his list before calling the next trainee. “LEE CHAERIN, we all felt that your performance felt a bit… dated. while it’s nice to call back to the classics and acknowledge the seniors who helped create this industry, it’s also important to be up to date on the current trends and competition. you’ll be working with coaches in a sort of kpop boot camp, studying the current trending groups and the most popular songs of the last year. if you want to succeed in this industry, being educated on it is a must.”

haesun takes over for the sr media trainees, calling out one name after the next. “SHIN EUNAE, we’ve seen great improvement in your dance abilities since you joined the company. however, we’re still concerned about your flexibility and strength. to help encourage you beyond what’s covered in our basic dance lessons, you’ll be attending flying yoga classes for the next month. while i hope you do have some fun with it, it’s an activity that’s very demanding of your core strength and flexibility.”

“SHIN YUJI,” haesun calls the next name on her list, “your performance was nearly a perfect replica of yuna’s original, which would be amazing, except we don’t want you to be a copy machine who just spits out the same thing as her seniors. we felt that your performance lacked personal identity, so in order to help you better connect with yourself and your own creativity, we’ve arranged for guided mediation sessions and ask for you to follow self-discovery journal prompts this month.”

the next trainee on her list is called out, “SONG CHAEYEON, while we appreciate your willingness to step outside of your comfort zone and try a new concept, we couldn’t help but notice… it really doesn’t suit you. while we don’t mean to assume anything about your personal life, we suspect that you’re not very experienced in matters of romance and sensuality. our solution to this one is a bit unorthodox. for the next month, we’re asking you to watch and read romance dramas, movies, and novels and take notes on the emotions of the story. sometime this month, a coach will accompany you to a host cafe to practice going on a ‘date’ with a host there. it’s a safe way to give you the experience we feel you lack.”

finally, youngmin takes over for the studio delta trainees. “HAN SAEM,” he calls out, “while you’re a very graceful dancer, grace isn’t often what’s needed in male choreographies. we want to see more power out of your performance. to help build this strength, we’re enrolling you in boxing classes for the month. we have a private trainer who will assist you in strengthening your body and hopefully teaching you to use it in a more powerful manner as well.”

the trainees are all instructed to work hard at their assigned tasks and lessons, though not to neglect their regular classes as well before they are dismissed and returned to their home companies.

at the end of the month, each trainee will meet with a coach who worked closely with them during their assignments and have a one-on-one review. the trainees will be asked what they learned, how helpful they felt the task was, and how they plan to apply the skills learned to their training going forward.

OOC:

this event is for trainees only and will run until april 12 at 11:59pm. any threads or solos posted after the deadline will not count toward points. please send in your points submission before this deadline.

please use the hashtag #BE:SOLOEVAL for all posts relating to this event.

FOR +2 TRAINEE POINTS please write a 4-post thread with another trainee relating to performing the unique assigned tasks. this could be discussing their task, sharing what they’ve learned, complaining, expressing jealousy, remarking that they see a difference in another trainee, etc. NOTE: THIS CAN BE REDEEMED TWICE (two separate 4-post threads with different muses and/or ).

FOR +5 RELEVANT SKILL(S) POINTS please write a 300+ word solo about your muse's experience with their task (attending the special lessons/classes, what they learned, etc.).

when you’ve completed all options that you’d like to participate in, please send the following form to our points submission blog:

SUBMISSION TITLE: MUSE NAME - COMPANY - SOLO EVAL PART 2

preparation 1: +2 points to distribute to any trainee skills [ link to thread ]

preparation 2: +2 points to distribute to any trainee skills [ link to thread ]

performance: +5 relevant skill points (singing, dancing, rapping) [ link to solo ]

#be:event #BE:SOLOEVAL

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extra-vertebrae · 2 years

Note

Sorry ‘bout all the peeps asking for stuff that either doesn’t exist or isn’t meant to be shared, myself included (I asked about the simian/ape mons) thanks for letting us know! I don’t know what the other asks were, but I bet that it’s annoying to keep saying, sorry, this didn’t get consideration! Hope you have a good rest of your week, and I hope you know that I personally am just interested in your stuff! IO, TUZ, and all that. We’re just curious (I think) , and we don’t wanna be demanding!

No worries, Anon! Legitimately, please don't feel bad - being asked about stuff I enjoy is really, really cool and I love to talk about the Things I Like with anybody who will listen. I guess you could say that it "comes with a cost" - there's unfortunately a really hard limit that I know peeps can't see; it's a crappy line in the sand that acts like a hard cap, and it's hard to lay out that line for people without sounding like I'm annoyed or unhappy with people trying to engage with me with those things we share an interest in. I've tried to "work around" this line by holding Asks like yours and others until I have a good answer, because I don't want to say "no", but that means answers take a lot longer, and in the process more questions just like them come in and I unfortunately just get overwhelmed trying to juggle them all at once. It comes from wanting to please folks and it's a lesson I keep having to relearn that I just can't manage that with what all I have going on right now. It's a bit like that old "why can't I hold all these limes?" meme.

Thank you very much, Anon, I hope you have a good rest of your week, too!

#ask

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wannaberp · 2 years

Photo

— WHO IS ALICE KIM?

she’s a EIGHTEEN year old wannabe, born JULY 11, 2004. she’s currently eyeing LIME ENTERTAINMENT and lives by the words “if nothing changes, nothing changes.”

maybe you should learn more or ask her a question.

▶ PLAY THE CLIP [ dream_reality.mp4 ]

it's a complicated question. the truth is, alice never exactly wanted this for herself - her mother wanted it for her, more than anything. instead of cram school, she'd been in vocal and dance lessons all her life. instead of making friends, she was making connections of a professional sort. instead of catching up on chores and doing homework, she was sipping coffees and taking small, delicate bites of parfait, simply hoping to be seen by some scout who would decide she was too pretty to allow to pass by.

her mother never looks half as proud of good grades as she does a good performance, so alice had stopped trying in school. while it's never been said plainly, alice is fairly certain she'd been adopted simply for the purpose of becoming a celebrity. why else would her mother have put her into performance lessons literally as soon as she could get her signed up? it was mere days between getting to her new home and beginning the lessons. she'd only been three.

fifteen years later, she was here, being asked about undying passion for idolatry that she simply didn't have.

she should be bitter. she should hate her mother for forcing this on her, for taking away her youth in favor of turning her into some sort of performing monkey, extant only to entertain. she should loathe the woman who'd encouraged her to be a social outcast, because god forbid she ever, ever make a friend, or even worse, make plans.

she doesn't.

she loves her, more than words can properly explain. while alice doesn't necessarily love performing, she loves watching her mother watch her perform. the bright smile, the clapping, occasionally even the tears welling in her eyes. it all makes the effort worth it. it makes her want to do better, and to be everything she wants her to be. a star, beloved by the public. an idol, falsely worshipped.

her aspiration might have been to be onstage, performing to enthusiastic crowds, but there was only one audience member she truly cared about pleasing. others would come and go, but she had faith her mother would eternally be her biggest fan.

of course, she wouldn't say that. that was too personal, far, far more information than anyone needed on her. idols were sincere when it suited them, after all, and truth was not a look she wore well in this scenario. no, ever admitting she wasn't just like every other hopeful out there - working hard for their dreams, impassioned by a compulsive need to be seen, to be heard, to be known and understood and loved - was simly not an option.

instead she gives the interviewer a bright smile and, pushing perfectly bouncy hair away from her face, speaks simply.

"i want to make people smile. it was this or dentistry."

she takes a second to appreciate the laughter coming from behind the camera before she continues.

"no, but really. it might be something you've heard before, but i want more than anything to bring joy to people. the idols i love do that for me, so of course i want to do it the same way."

#BE:ACCEPTED #ive #jang wonyoung

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askcmcarscrew · 9 months

Text

Chapter 3: Settling In And Soaring High

At Ramone’s Fashion and Paint Shop

“Alright they’re ready!” Sally shouted from the dressing room.

She had just finished helping the girls get dressed in their new clothes that Ramone had made for them. After him and the others had gotten a chance to get to know the girls and decided to make something that best fits the crusaders’ personalities.

“Well then.. What are you waiting for let’s see them.” Lightning shouted back into the closed curtains.

Seconds later Applebloom stepped out first. Wearing a sleeveless blue plaid shirt, blue jean shorts, and brown faux leather material stitched design casual knee high cowboy boots, and a M&F western twister wool cowboy hat. Good thing her mother’s ribbon hadn’t fallen off when they entered this world so Sally had tied it into a tails down bow.

“What da ya’ll think?”

Applebloom did a pose with her hand on her hip while the other holding up her hat.

“You look ok.”

Sarge gave a small shrug, while everyone else applauded her.

“Thanks ya’ll!”

She stepped off to the side giving Sweetie Belle her time in the spotlight she stepped out the dressing room. Wearing a white sleeveless mini dress with a lime green bow, light purple leggings, light purple zip side wedge boots, and a lime green glitter headband.

“How do I look?”

Sweetie Belle shyly gave a small pose holding her hands behind her back.

“You look fabulous.”

Ramone and the others applauded her and Sweetie Belle smiled moving next to Applebloom,

“Alright Scootaloo you're up! Let's see what you got!”

Lightning shouts into the dressing room and Scootaloo steps out. She's wearing an orange sleeveless T-shirt that Ramona had also cut holes in the backs for Scootaloo’s wings, a mid wash contrast jersey sleeve denim jacket to hide her wings, blue jeans, converse black classic high top sneakers, and a grey slouchy beanie.

“Well. What do ya say?”

Scootaloo gives a pose her fist up in the air and her other on her hip.

“You look awesome Scootaloo.”

Lightning and the others applauded them as they show of their new looks one more time.

. . .

Now that the girls have gotten a few lessons in how the human world works. Some new clothes to wear as well, and finally decided to tell the rest of the town about them. All that left is to decide who the girls will be staying. It took a while but Doc had decided that the girls should stay with him the first night just to get settled in. Then Applebloom will be staying with Sarge, much to his dislike, Sweetie Belle with Ramone, and Scootaloo with Lightning. So far everything looked all good, they’ve taken care of everything that needed to be done...That is...until Scootaloo asked one little question that caught everyone off guard.

“So..This is all cool and stuff. But when can I get started on my flying practice?”

Scootaloo was sitting at a table inside Flo’s V8 Cafe giving Lightning and Doc a bored look. At a loss for words they haven't even given the thought that a pegasus would not want to be stuck on the ground all day.

“Well..Scootaloo ya see we have a lot of people that visit own town quite often. And we don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be flying around. The wrong person might see you.”

Doc and the others have already explained to them what might happen if more people find out that they’re magical, talking, multi-colored ponies from an alternate world. And the thought of being taken off to some lab and experimented on...didn’t sound to fun in the girl's mind. But still Scootaloo didn't like the thought of being grounded during their entire stay here, especially for who knows how long they’ll even be here. And Scootaloo needed to practice her flying or else she’ll go stir crazy. Everyone paused to think for a moment...suddenly an idea popped into Lightning’s head.

“I got the an idea! What if Scoots goes flying at night around Willy’s Butte. It’s the perfect place and no one else will be able to see her because it’s so dark. And if they do they’ll think she’s a bird flying around. And I’ll be there to keep an eye on her to make sure nothing bad happens.”

Doc put a hand to his chin in thought.

His plan sounds possible, the fact no one will be able to she her, and Lightning standing guard keeping watch. It seems like the a pretty solid plan.

Doc was instantly snapped out of his thoughts when he found Scootaloo kneeling down in front of him, hands out front in a begging manner, and giving him the biggest puppy dog eyes imaginable. Unable to resist the sheer cuteness of it all smiled

“Sounds like the perfect plan…”

Doc was stopped mid sentence when Scootaloo jumped in his arms giving him a great big hug.

“Thank You Thank You Thank You Thank You Thank You!!!"

. . .

The sun set and the moon's now high in the sky. An excited Scootaloo cannot wait to get out, stretch her wings and finally teach herself how to fly.

“ Come on come on hurry up! I wanna get all the time I can flying!”

“Alright alright. Just let me get my jacket.”

Lightning grabbed his jacket from the bed and slipped it on, locked his door and the two head off to Willy’s Butte.

. . .

It’s been three hours already and Scootaloo still could not get herself off the ground. Lightning had automatically assumed that she already knew how to fly...Boy was he wrong. For the past three hours Scootaloo had done nothing but fall flat on her face..quite literally. Covered in cuts and bruises Scootaloo was stomping the ground, kicking dirt and rocks everywhere, pretty much throwing a tantrum right there in front of him. Then she plopped down next to a rock pulled her legs up close and started crying.

That’s it!

Lightning got up from his spot and walked over to Scootaloo kneeling down in front of her

“ Hey there Scoots you ok?”

Sob Sob…

“Aw Come on Scoots you’re not giving up are you? I thought you wanted to fly? Do you really think you’ll achieve anything by giving up every time you get frustrated?”

“...”

“You can do it if you really try.”

She looked up at him and he held out both hands

“Come on squirt. Give it another go.”

She took his hands and he lifted her up, wiping away her tears she put on a determined face and took a deep breath, opening up her wings at first getting nowhere.

“You got this Scoots! Don’t give up!”

Scootaloo looks back at him for a second she could of swore she saw Rainbow Dash standing right there turning back looking up at the sky.

This is what I want. I can’t give up,opening up her wings.

I won’t give up.flapping hard.

I won’t give in, floating off the ground.

I won’t back down, closing her eyes.

Not now. Not when I’m so close. I can’t stop. I won’t stop. I can do this. I believe in myself. I have faith in myself. I trust in myself. I trust in my heart. I’ve got the power. This is it. This is my goal. This is my dream. Everything I’ve worked so hard for. Is all for this.

Scootaloo slowly opened her eyes, looking down at Lightning she was at least 30 feet high in the sky.

“YAY! ALRIGHT SCOOTALOO YA DID IT!!!”

Lightning shouted high in the sky cheering on Scootaloo eyes widen beaming with pride Scootaloo exploded

“AWWWW YEAAAAH!!!”

shooting through the sky, and soaring up higher. Feeling that she’s finally broken free from her cage. Spreading her wings out wide and soaring, finally flying.

I’ve done it. I’ve finally done it. Lightning if it wasn’t for you I would have given up..

flying down into his arms Thank you Lightning. Thank you.

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