#Other Side of the Mirror HK AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writing-frenzy · 4 years

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Hollow Knight AU Idea- Other side of the Mirror

okay, so, I like the drabbler I am, saw this post by @catanutella and suddenly I got an amazing, if awful AU idea :D

Let’s set up first.

For the Radiant Children to be born, I imagine a world where, for a certain reason, the Pale King and Radiance actually have to work together. Like, maybe there is a big bad cult, and because I like the subversion of everything in Hollow Knight, maybe it is against a god/goddess of Healing or ‘Purity’. The Radiance has been fighting against them for a long time, but she never seems to be anything but on the defense with them, their planing and power able to outmatch her own. At least, until the Pale King comes into being.

Now, the Pale King has seen the future, he can see the path that can branch if he picks one road or the other, and in the end, the cult has ideas and thoughts he can never agree with. He can see that he would never be able to take them on alone, so with the aid of Unn and the White Lady, he meets with the Radiance and with terms laid down, they all work together to defeat the enemy god. After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Once the other is cast out, things get a bit complicated... but they are eventually ironed out, if a bit tense at time with some relations. In the end, the Pale King is able to give minds to the bugs all around them, the Radiance is able to give them all dreams, but in the end, it is up to the bugs themselves to decide who they wish to follow in the end. Hollownest is built and most of the Moths still choose the Radiance, with some going over to the Pale King. This of course causes tension, but it was agreed to let the bugs choose, so there is that.

So yeah, this is the world that the Radiant Children are born into.

Now, i’m going to say this; I think Wyrms have very low birth rates, one of the reasons their species went extinct. The White Lady, being of earth and fertility in my headcannon, is able to still give him a lot of kids. (With no desperate plans and void to enter into the egg) they have a few children, I’m thinking between like 30-50.

So yeah, here is the set up for this idea; of course there will be drama, with fae like gods and court politics and all these still very morally grey characters still being themselves. (I want feral Child Hornet to be born, so maybe it was a term set down in the beginning to get Deepnest’s cooperation, the desire for a strong brood in the future or maybe one or two of the Radiant children gets saved by Herrah, who thinks ‘what about a life for a life? and boom, Hornet gets to exist and her mom won’t be a damn dreamer here.)

Now, here we get to where I want to be.

So, if we were in a comic or story, this would probably follow after a few arcs with subtle and not so subtle foreshadowing. The Cult is making a comeback, they are preparing, and now they are ready.

They have a special weapon with them this time, a mirror called the All-Seer’s Glass, said to show possibilities for what can be, as well as able to power up those who know how to use it. They also are able to somehow trick Grimm, making it to where the Nightmare King can only watch what is to happen, much to his distaste. (He does not care to be commanded or ordered around; the Cult was at least smart enough to not ask him to fight on their side, just that he watch and judge, and not interfere.)

So, i’m going to say a lot of the Radiant Children were kidnapped, from Arlo the oldest to young little Chi. With the Glass, they are all trapped in this mirror like world, where the gods are weakened and the Healing/Pure Cult is mostly in control. Grimm is forced to watch from the side, though through some sneaky antics, he is able to at least help out the kids break their bindings and get out of enemy hands, but is unable to help outside of that.

All the kids are scared; from the strange shadows they see outside their vision in the mirrored walls, to all the fighting, hiding behind their guards or Mother as the Radiance and their Father, along with other strong warriors, fight the monsters before them.

But they are getting worn down; within the mirror realm, they are weakened, and with the Cult able to constantly heal themselves, it seems like no progress is actually being made.

Chi watched on, as their father, who always stood so strong, so tall is beaten back by the enemies, who laugh and sneer in the face of his power. Can’t help but cry out as he see a nasty blow hit Father in one of his wings, the guard protecting the little one stopping them from reaching out.

‘Anyone...’ Chi thinks, tears falling onto their chitin as they watch this terrible battle so different from the stories they read, ‘Anyone, just anyone... please! Please help us...’ those tears ever so slightly blurring their vision, but doing nothing to quiet the cries of their family and friends, from the battle screeching of those fighting.

‘Help my Father..’

Chi can’t help but cry out, jostled as they are by their guard suddenly jumping, trying to get away from one of the Cultist trying to take their precious ward. Hears the louder cries of his siblings, sobs reaching out, distractions on the battlefield that work rather well.

‘Help my brother and sisters!’

(All the while the guard is fighting, forced to put the little one behind them, shadows start to form in the mirrored wall behind little Chi, a form that starts to become clear and clearer as the fight goes on.)

‘Please...’

Chi looks up into those cold, dark eyes of the bug who killed his guard, their nail still stained from their kill as they walk ever so arrogantly forward, the youth easily able to smell how pleased they are. They raise their nail once more, their actions obvious in what they are about to do to stain their nail even further.

‘Help.’

Chi closes their eyes, not able to watch how that deadly nail reaches for them, to end them.

This means their wide eyes flash open when they hear the counter.

Hearing the clashing of nails loud in the sudden silence they seem to be surrounded by, Chi looks up from the ground, watching as a small, grey cloaked bug easily goes toe to toe with the enemy. They are amazingly talented with a nail, performing nail arts Chi has only read about in books. They are even able to perform spells, judging by the soul energy that finally finishes off the foe. It is in this still moment that Chi is able to actually get a good look at the other bug, as they turn to him...

And kinda wishes he didn’t.

From those very familiar horns, the indents inside the tip of them, to the white of their chitin, a pale glow just barely able to be seen, it reminded Chi of one of their sister’s drawings, without any color and unfinished, no life given to it yet.

And yet... it seemed to be living right in front of them, a mirror image of their self in body, if the glass was black and grey that is.

Chi can only watch as this... other tilts their head at the for a bit, the darkness that can only seem to stare at them from their eye holes seeming to deepen the longer they look. Chi can’t help but feel a little relived when the other nods, turning away before they are off into the fight, easily moving within the chaos and madness of it all.

Like they are used to it, at home with it as it were.

So yeah, Little Ghost joins the fight, and the tide is turned greatly. Ghost is a tireless, restless fighting machine who only gets more power with every hit they get. To say that the home team are surprised is a very big understament, as one; this looks like one of the children, and two; why do they feel like death and void??!! Pale King does not like this, White Lady is disturbed, and the Radiance is very uneasy.

Grimm is admittedly stunned as well when a little Grimmchild helps Ghost get a few stubborn enemies, the nightmare fire unaffected in this mirrored realm (almost a bit stronger in fact, hence why they tricked Grimm in the first place).

Ghost is very much giving off the Uncanny Valley vibe, and with me imagining this is a fully looped Ghost (every ending has happened, but because of Ghost’s special ability, he just ends up starting over every time) he gives off an even more creepy pasta child feeling.

Not to mention just how OP he is.

When the fight is won and all is said and done, Ghost can go back home anytime as long as he can get to the abyss... but come on, this is Ghost.

Of course he is going to explore first chance he gets.

(And thus, we now have Ghost running wild in this nice little au. :D oh what havoc he will rein.)

#Hollow Knight #Hollow Knight AU #Other Side of the Mirror HK AU #Radiance HK #Pale King HK #The Knight HK #Little Ghost hk #Grimm HK #just i like the idea of Ghost able to explore a fully alive Hollownest #and lets add drama to all that #Radiant Children AU #I guess?

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babbushka · 3 years

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Beyond Reasonable Doubt (ch.1)

– A Lawyer AU –

You and Kylo Ren have hated one another for as long as you can remember. He, a criminal prosecutor, and you, a defense attorney should be natural-born enemies, and you are. But when Kylo comes to you seeking representation after being charged for a murder he didn’t commit, you both learn a thing or two about life, the law, and love…

[5k, no warnings for this first chapter!]

Available on AO3

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In a world of ever-changing circumstances, where people do things that cause ripples and shocks through the very fabric of society that shake them to their core, where the sun shines and rain falls and snow blows cold through the streets of Manhattan, where there is life and death and a mess of bullshit in between, there was but one thing that you could ever comfortably rely on in life.

Only one thing remained constant in the grand scheme of it all: your alarm.

With a grunt and sigh, your arm extends out from underneath the covers to smack at the loud blaring jingle that sounds from your phone, hand desperately trying to hit the dismiss button without looking so that you don’t have to face the day just yet. It’s too early, you reason, to pull your whole self out from under the covers.

Eventually you give that thought up though, because dammit now you’re awake and it’s Monday morning and you have an office that’s waiting for you uptown. So, ever grudgingly, you throw the plush comforter off of your body and stretch to greet the day, saying good morning to the city that never sleeps.

You don’t usually dread waking up, but well, the last time you’d been in the office was Friday afternoon, after you lost your case.

After you lost your case, to him.

Glancing at the clock on your phone, you chew your lip for a moment or two, before finally turning off the do not disturb function, immediately going into the bathroom to shower and ready yourself for the day while damn near a hundred backlogged notifications make your phone buzz nearly onto the floor.

There’s a small mirror in the shower, a little compact to make sure there’s nothing left on your face after you scrub your skin clean, and you catch your own reflection in it. You’ve looked better, that was for damn sure – but by that same token, you’ve also looked worse. Mondays were shit, but today was gearing up to be an even worse one than normal.

No, you think as you shake your head adamantly, you have no desire to let him soak up any more of your good mood than he had already. So what if you had forgone your entire weekend, canceling plans and ignoring friends to nurse the sting to your pride that was losing? So what if instead of checking your email or your phone, you sat yourself on the couch and wasted two entire days doing nothing but watching shitty shows on Netflix?

What you did on your downtime was nobodies’ business, and since you live alone in your beautiful one-bedroom in SoHo, no one was there to spill your secrets. If anyone asked – not that anyone would, if they knew what was good for them – you would tell them that you absolutely did not spend the weekend wanting to throw darts onto a photo of his face. That wouldn’t be very professional, now would it?

Shutting off the water, you wrap yourself up in a big plush towel, and pad across the floor to your closet. Briefly, ever so briefly, you glance at your phone on your way, holding your breath, wondering, hoping that there might be something from him.

If there is, it’s buried under a pile of emails and text-threads from your firm, so he’ll have to wait.

Manhattan in January was chilly, so you bundle yourself up in your chicest coat overtop your most well-fitting skirt suit and a pair of heeled boots. Even if you felt like shit, you could look like million fuckin’ bucks, and no one would be the wiser.

And what a wonder the power of confidence was! Through the streets and down to the subway, you smiled at everyone, and they all smiled back. You offered your seat on the train to an elderly man who clearly needed it more than you, and he complimented your gloves. Everyone from the NYPD officer drinking his coffee to the mom scolding her three children brightened as you wished them a good morning, and somehow, along the way to work, your Monday blues disappears into something a little brighter.

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Your good mood only continues to grow as you exit the elevator of the huge high-rise that you call your home away from home, your office on the twenty-third floor right in the heart of the Upper West Side. Sandwiched between the Hudson and Central Park, you have to admit that getting your ass out of bed was worth it, even if just for this view.

“Morning (Y/N).” The front desk security guard greets you, and you say hello back to him with a performative show of your badge.

HKS Law, so named after the founders and current partners Amilyn Holdo, Ben Kenobi, and Luke Skywalker, is a shining pinnacle of what defense attorneys and opposing counsel at trials should be. Not only had the firm made history time and time again with incredible wins and even more incredible ultimate losses, but it prided itself on being representation for the people no one else could represent.

Most of all, it had you.

If your alarm was a constant, than this was a universal truth: you are a damn good defense attorney. As you walk through the crisp and clean polished floors, you hold your head high, knowing that this loss against him still put you at the lowest loss rate of anyone in the history of HKS, lower than even the founders themselves.

That little reminder has you grinning to yourself. You’d been working with HKS for nearly six years now, and very quickly you saw your office climbing higher and higher up the skyscraper, saw it getting bigger and bigger. And now, you were nearly positive, that your meeting at eleven o’clock would be to discuss partnership with the firm as a reward for your continued hard work.

“Hey (Y/N)!” One of the associates, Rose Tico smiles at you from where she’s chatting with her sister Paige by their desks.

“Someone looks like they had a nice weekend.” Paige remarks, and you only wink at them, playing the game.

A game, which becomes instantly easier as your assistant, a bright-eyed intern fresh out of law school appears seemingly out of nowhere.

“(Y/N), good morning!” She is already offering you a cup of something nice and hot, her arm cradling a stack of manilla folders that have all sorts of sticky-note flags on them, that she shifts onto her hip ever so slightly to brush a few loose braids out of her face, speaking at what feels like a million miles a second, “I have your coffee ready and there’s a fresh breakfast buffet in the break room if you’d like, I can get you something – ”

“Good morning Neisha.” You accept the coffee gratefully, but interrupting her only to give her a chance to catch her breath. You check your watch, it’s only half-past seven, she’ll wear herself out if she exerts that much energy first thing. “A bagel with the usual would be perfect, thank you.”

“No problem – oh, Rick wanted you to look over those case files before your eleven-o’clock.” She breathes a sigh of relief, and gives you a smile.

Groaning, you accept the manilla folders too, balancing the coffee cup on top of them as Iman follows you into your own private office. Your assistant stands in front of your desk at the ready, looking sharp and put together, as ever.

One thing that you loved about Neisha – aside from the dozens of things that you admired and appreciated about her – was that you have never ever seen her in something other than a pantsuit. She did not wear dresses or skirts, she was almost never in heels, and she did not carry a purse. Instead, Neisha could almost always be found in a very smart trouser and blazer set, often complete with vests, and fun-colored socks in her loafers to coordinate with her ever-expanding collection of ties.

“Rick can go fuck himself.” You mutter under your breath, and she laughs.

“Should I tell him you said that?” With a playful glimmer in her eye, she crosses her arms over her broad chest.

“Yes.” You wink, before checking your watch once again and reminding her about that, “Bagel?”

“Bagel – right, on it.” Neisha snaps her fingers and leaves, closing the office door behind her.

You like your office, even if you’ve outgrown it. Much like the rest of the firm, it has stayed up to date with the contemporary interior design of the day. However where the open floor of the firm is mostly whites and silvers and glass, your office feels warmer with shades of coffee browns and creamy neutrals.

Remembering how you had been so excited for the promotion to your own office, you can’t help but chuckle to yourself now – it really was a small office. It consisted of a long dark brown desk situated in front of a wall-unit bookshelf/display area, and a seating arrangement of matching brown chairs situated around a free-edge wooden coffee-table. A soft rug covers the marble flooring, and cream gauzy curtains cover the windows, but that was about it.

You had been to the offices of the higher ups, you knew just what you could achieve if you made partner – even if you made junior partner.

And if all went well during this meeting at eleven, you knew you’d be moving into one of those offices soon.

For the first time all weekend, you sit down in the big leather chair behind your desk and finally check your phone. The case files remain on your desk, and you know you’ll get to them eventually, but until you’ve had some breakfast and that coffee can work its magic, no one could blame you for scrolling through the shit that you had put off since Friday.

It’s mostly work friends taking your side, which you appreciate. They knew losing a case was hard for you – you didn’t do it very often. And even though you never lost to anyone besides him, it still never got easier.

The case had been a simple one, or at least, you had thought so. Murders are so often simple, either the person did it, or they didn’t. If they did, there’s evidence, and if they didn’t, well, there’s evidence too. And when two parties come forward with their own evidence, compelling, strong fucking evidence – evidence of alibis and proof that your client couldn’t have been there, couldn’t have done it – it’s up to the jury to decide who to believe.

In this case, this jury decided to believe him, and there was nothing you could do about it. It was losses like this, losses like the knowledge than an innocent man was going to prison, that make you seriously question the legal system as a whole, frankly.

It’s then that you see it, and your hand freezes.

You have a missed message from him.

He’s saved in your contacts as the dick from VTH, and even though that could refer to any number of people, you know that it’s him. You have five missed messages from him, as a matter of fact, which sends both a rush of adrenaline through you, as well as a spike of anxiety.

The two of you…you’d never been friends, not really. In fact, the closest thing to a relationship that you might have is that of a rivalry, if not flat out enemies. You hated him, and he hated you, and he had hated you ever since the first day he set eyes on you, from the very first moment you walked into the courtroom as a last-minute addition to the defense counsel, and won the case in fifteen minutes.

Which was a shame, because you often find yourself thinking that if he weren’t such a…well, a dick, there could have been something there. Instead of a friendship, or even a civil acquaintanceship, you have over the years developed something of a hate-fucking-enemies-with-benefits arrangement. He was probably pissed that you ignored him all weekend, but that was okay – let him be pissed, you were pissed too.

You don’t open his messages, not yet. You’d need coffee in you and food in your stomach before you’re able to handle whatever mood he has to be in, now that you’ve got the energy to deal with him.

You’re so deep in thought that you nearly miss when Neisha returns with a plate for you, a big spread arranged on your desk for you to enjoy. You’re about to thank her and let her get on with whatever work she has to do, but she holds out a newsletter with a devious smile and curiosity gets the better of you.

“Have you seen?” She asks, and you raise a brow, a smile of your own creeping across your face.

The newsletter was something that circulated through the different firms in the area, keeping everyone up to date – or at least as up to date as legally possible – on the goings on in the sphere of influence that you all found yourselves in. Everything from congratulatory memos to case results, and even high profile celebrity gossip was fair game, but one of the more scandalous parts of the newsletter, was the publication of trouble that various lawyers found themselves in.

The Monday morning newsletter had quite a bit of this from over the weekend, and right there on page sixteen, is none other than his face looking as irritated as he possibly can, as he’s being given a hard time for a DUI on Friday night.

“Oh fuck.” Your eyes widen, wanting nothing more than to call him and yell at him for being a fucking idiot, “What the hell does he think he’s doing?”

“Whatever he wants, evidently.” Neisha shrugs, no doubt thinking the news would cheer you up in some sort of vengeful way that you appreciate. She reaches for a pumpernickel crisp from the spread on your desk and muses, “I bet the cops are thrilled, they hate that sonofabitch.”

“Yeah them and me both.” You mutter, already rubbing away a headache that’s starting to form across the expanse of your forehead. “He’s not going to be pleased about that photo, he looks rumpled.”

Sighing, you look down at the photo. He’s very clearly intoxicated, you’ve seen that look in his eyes more than once, the blurry out of focused glassy look that he gives you over smiles at dinner sometimes. You blink away the image of him in a nice suit on the other end of a table, reminding yourself that you’re angry with him.

“Doesn’t he have a driver? I wonder why he got behind the wheel himself.” Neisha continues, and bless her you think, for continually giving you a means to not be left alone with your thoughts.

“If there’s one thing I know about that man, it’s that when he sets him mind to something, no one is going to stop him from doing it.” You reply, not able to ignore a bit of gut-wrenching regret.

Maybe if you hadn’t been so mad at him, you could’ve gone with him to wherever he was coming back from, and maybe you could’ve --

“Should I have this framed?” Neisha asks, and you blink again.

You check your watch, it’s only a quarter ‘til eight. Have you really only been at work for fifteen minutes? That stack of folders sits on the edge of your desk, taunting you. You’re gearing up for an extra long day.

“No, that’s okay.” You shake your head, opening the bottom drawer of your desk and dropping the newsletter into it. “I will keep a hold onto it though. Just for fun.”

With a laugh, Neisha leaves and once again closes your office door.

“God dammit.” You grumble, pulling your phone out yet again.

The unread messages from him sit buried beneath thirty other messages that don’t warrant responses, and you hover your thumb over his name.

After all these years, something about getting a text from him made your heart jump. It felt stupid, you weren’t some teenager with a crush in high school, you were an adult, and this was just another adult, who you happened to have developed some sort of attachment to. Not a friendship, or a relationship even, but some kind of attachment.

Right now, you wanted to bitch at him for getting himself into trouble, for driving while he was so very clearly drunk, a whole argument prepared about how he could have seriously hurt or even killed someone, how even though he’s a rich asshole he can’t afford to be so reckless.

But first, in order to bitch at him, you have to read what he’s sent you over the weekend, and that’s where you keep tripping up. You don’t know why, but when you do finally open up his texts, you find that you’re holding your breath until you read them.

You try to ignore the way the thread starts out, try to ignore how if anyone were to squint, they might think something was going on between you two.

Incoming: [1/8 6:03am] just picking up croissants from that place u like. jam?

[1/8 6:10am] Yeah, raspberry if they have

Incoming: [1/8 6:11am] on it, go back 2 bed.

That had been just over a week ago, and you remember the day well, how you exchanged smiles over bites of fresh and flaky pastry, how you had dipped the croissants into hot chocolate in his bed, not giving a fuck about the crumbs that weren’t your problem because they weren’t your sheets.

How that was the last time you had seen him, before the conclusion of the case.

Now, now that you’d lost, the tone of the thread has very clearly shifted to something much colder. One thing you’re surprised to see though, is that they’re all from around Friday night, which was unusual.

Incoming: [1/15 7:43pm] going out 2 celebrate tonight, join me

Incoming: [1/15 8:57pm] u can’t ignore me forever u know

Incoming: [1/16 12:02am] i’m glad u didn’t come, ud fucking hate it here. theyre playing music 2 loud

Incoming: [1/16 12:15am] r u seriously still mad?

Incoming: [1/16 1:09am] Fuck you.

Rolling your eyes, you rub away more of that headache that starts to form. It was weird that he didn’t text you at all for the whole day of Saturday, or Sunday for that matter. If you didn’t spend the weekend together, he was very content to simply blow your phone up with links to random bullshit or long text conversations in broken grammar because his thumbs were too big for the buttons.

So for there to be radio silence after one o’clock in the morning was strange.

“For fucks sake.” You find yourself texting him back without even thinking about it, your fingers moving over the keyboard easily and quickly, sending off a slightly antagonizing reply after two days of nothing;

[1/18 7:55am] Looks like you had quite the night on Friday.

There, you think. That should get a response out of him. No doubt he would be quick to complain about how he had been pulled over and the whole nine yards. You wait for it to come through, the text. Or more accurately, the string of impassioned paragraphs that he tends to send you.

But a minute go by, and there’s nothing.

Five minutes, and nothing still.

You know you have to work, you have shit to do, you have that big meeting in a couple hours that you have to mentally prepare for, there’s no time to be worrying about him not texting you back. Still, you don’t like the silence. Sure that makes you a hypocrite, but he deserved your cold shoulder for beating you in court. At least, that’s how you justify it for yourself.

Getting up from your desk, you hover in the doorframe, where your assistant’s desk sits just outside to act as a buffer for anyone wanting to bother you.

“Hey Neisha?” You ask quietly, getting her attention, “I haven’t missed any calls, have I?”

A crease of confusion dips between her brows as she frowns, and immediately she checks the call logs on the conference phone that sits on her desk next to the big computer that takes up most of her space.

“No not that I can think of, are you expecting someone – ?”

Just as she’s asking, the phone rings. You lean over and see the number is one you don’t recognize, and you frown too.

“Better get that.” Neisha says awkwardly, so you just nod and retreat back into your own office from where you came.

It’s been seven minutes now, and there’s still nothing from him.

“Fine, fuck you too.” You mutter at the phone, locking it and putting it in the shallow drawer of your desk so you can focus on the folders in front of you finally.

The stack is pretty normal, all the weekend material finally coming in now that it’s the start of a new week. There’s new case files to look through to decide if you’re doing to accept the client, supplementary material from old case files that you’ve asked for to review, notes and evidence belonging to associates’ cases that you said you’d give your opinion on – all mixed into one big pile.

You liked it though, liked staying busy. It was a good distraction from a loss, the ability to win, the ability to prove to yourself and to the world that you’re good at what you do. There are all sorts of awards and pieces of paper displayed on the walls of your office that show that you’re good, but still, there’s nothing like a strong win after a frustrating loss.

But you’re not even halfway through reading the first folder, when Neisha knocks on your door and opens it slowly, a look of preemptive apology on her face.

“I’m afraid you’re going to need to cancel your eleven o’clock.” She says, and you can tell by the tone of her voice that there’s no use in trying to argue with her.

You let the folder fall down onto the desk, and brace yourself for whatever bombshell she’s about to drop on you, what could possibly be so important for you to have to reschedule one of the biggest meetings of your career. They would understand, you’re sure.

You hope, anyway.

“Who is it?” Your tone is already filled with dread, but a resigned kind of dread, knowing that whatever it must be, it has to be big, and you’re the only one in this entire fucking firm who can handle big things like this – it was the reason they wanted you for partner in the first place.

But Neisha hesitates with this response, scratches the back of her neck in a way that makes you instantly curious.

“I…I was instructed not to say, just that you’ve been requested to meet with them regarding representation.” She tells you, and now your headache pounds even harder.

Clients didn’t withhold their identity from you; some used an alias of course, but you can’t say that so far in your career you’ve had a completely anonymous client. Whoever this person was, had to either be royalty, or something very very close.

And though that meant there was going to be a nightmare of a trial – because these high profile people almost never got to simple settle, not when the prosecutor wants to make a show of prosecuting them – you can’t help but think that would be a pretty good notch in your beltloop, as it were.

“Alright, where are they?” You’re already up and away from your desk, shuffling the case files into a locked cabinet.

“Rikers.” She says straight away, and you let out a groan.

“Of course they are.”

You had almost hoped that whoever this mystery client was, they had posted bail and could meet at a nice neutral location. You didn’t have anything against Rikers personally, but rather the entire prison industrial complex as a whole, and as far as New York prisons went, there were few more infamous for being unnecessarily brutal than Rikers Island.

“I can call them back and tell them you’re busy…but they sounded adamant about wanting you in particular.” Neisha nudges gently, and really there’s no need to butter you up, you’ve already made up your mind.

“I’m guessing they didn’t tell you why?” You ask, even though you know the answer.

“Correct.” She replies with a sheepish shrug.

You look at her, at your watch, at your phone screen which shows no new notifications from the last time that you checked it, and you square your shoulders.

“Alright, reschedule the eleven o’clock, and let’s get out of here before Holdo freaks the fuck out on me for that.” You say, grabbing your coffee and a few more of the pastries to take in the car with you for the drive.

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Most times, you have no problem taking the subway wherever you need to get, but visiting Rikers wasn’t as easy as hopping off the train and walking a couple blocks. For times like these, you and Neisha take one of the company cars, a sleek and shiny black thing with dark tinted windows. Cars really aren’t practical in the city, which is why you don’t have one of your own, but it was nice to be driven around from time to time in the peace and quiet of a car like this.

Normally, visitors are not allowed on Mondays or Tuesdays, but you’re not a normal person, and you’re not here for a normal visit, so once you pass through the security gate, the K-9 unit and the metal detector security tests with ease, you find it a pretty quiet lobby.

“Good afternoon Ms. (L/N), here on official duty?” One of the correctional officers that sits up by the front visitation desk beams at you.

“No, I just missed you Jake.” You reply, fishing out your identification for him even though he really doesn’t need it. Jake has worked there only a year or so, and every time you see him you can’t help but think he’s young, too young for this job, you think, too young to become desensitized to the humanity of incarcerated individuals. But that’s not a conversation that you’re here to have today, so instead you keep up the chitchat with, “How’s Lottie and the kids?”

“They’re good, who are you here for?” Jake asks as a matter of protocol, and you give Neisha a look, before looking back at him.

“That’s just the thing, I don’t know. I wasn’t informed for confidentiality reasons.” You try to explain, before leaning forward and mock-whispering to him, “Please tell me someone has me on the list and I didn’t drive all this way for nothing.”

Jake laughs, a sound that feels out of place in a place like this, and pulls something up on his computer. You can’t really see it, the list, and that’s okay. Whoever this mysterious person is, you’ll find out within just a few minutes.

“You know the drill, they’re waiting for you in the back.” Jake waves you off, and you’re glad to go.

“Wait out here.” You tell Neisha, who clearly looks uncomfortable even being in the lobby, and with good reason. She doesn’t argue you on that, instead takes a seat on a bench near Jake’s table, and the two of them get to chatting while your boots click on the floors as you walk away.

There’s a couple different visitation areas in the jail, and the deeper into the building you go, the more that you’re glad that visitation isn’t allowed on Mondays. You don’t want the chance of running into someone that you had failed. Granted there had only been a handful of those instances, but the thought of any one of them being here is not outside the realm of possibility.

Through the sea of empty tables and chairs that are reserved for long term inmates who happen to have visitation privileges for good behavior, you find yourself moving deeper and deeper, until you’re at the door of another room, a closed off one more typical to that seen in movies and television shows.

Opening the door, you hang in the hallway to confirm that there’s no one else there, as there shouldn’t be. There’s eight stations, four on each side of the small room, with a phone and a pane of bulletproof glass. Right away, you have a feeling this is going to be a murder trial, if they’re not even letting you meet with the client out in the open, if they’re monitoring the phone conversation that you’re about to have.

You see a shuffle of movement out of the corner of your eye, and assume that that’s who you’re here to meet, so with your chin held high, you step into the room, and make your way to the visitation booth where a man in a bright orange jumpsuit is waiting on the other side of the glass.

Stopping as quickly as you’ve started, you stand frozen in the middle of the room, blinking away and desperately shoving aside a wave of feelings that have crashed over you at the familiar face behind the glass.

The dark hair, the deep eyes, that proud nose, those full lips, you take it all in with some strange sense of disbelief – surely this must be a dream? It has to be, even as you sit on the little stool and yank the phone off the wall, shoving it against your ear, not even knowing where to start as you try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man, this mystery client…

“Hey sweetheart.” He says, and you could smack him upside the head if only there weren’t this glass between you and Kylo Ren.

----------------------------

Tagging some pals, please let me know if you’d like to be added to or taken off the taglist! @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @mousemakingjam @the-unmanaged-mischief @drake-bells-waxed-penis @littleevilme13 @rennaissance-mama @materialisthicc

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren/you #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren imagine #reader insert #slowburn #modern au #lawyer au #my writing #beyond reasonable doubt #adam driver fanfiction #adcu

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factionzero · 3 years

Note

Alright all right since you didn't like my pet au idea 😏😉

Gardener au?

Clark that sexy sexy space landscaper trying to get some extra credits, using his laser vision for the tough space plants..

And Brainy breaking a datapad as the hot gardener bends over n gets a eyeful of those buns of steel 😏?

This one ran away from me I'm sorry ♡♡♡♡

Brainiac 5 gave a deep sigh of relief as the door finally closed, his father leaving for another hopefully long business trip.

That left him home alone and in peace to do what he wished. Which right now was to go see his favorite landscaper.

He set up a floating tray of drinks, checking himself in the mirror-shined walls of the fancy house he lived in before slowly making his way to the garden.

It was a masterpiece of different worlds, miniature ecosystems from pants long gone or far away all being maintained by invisible force fields that controlled the atmosphere.

Making it look like they were all existing in perfect unison.

He spotted Clark at one end, floating high up and petting a semi-conscious plant and praising it for being still as he pruned off dead leaves.

'That's a good girl. I got plenty of meal worms for you once we're done.' He cooed and small spindly vines laid over his fingers.

'Clark~' Brainy called out and the Kryptonian looked over his shoulders and beamed at him.

'Oh hey, Brainiac 5.' He called back, finishing up the snipping and holding out a bag full of wiggling worms for the plant to ensnare in vines and throw into its flower bud mouths ravenously.

'I thought I told you to just call me Brainy.' He huffed, feeling like Tinya's ten step seduction plan must be failing somewhere.

Not that he was even close to passing stage two yet but today was going to be the day! Stage two, physical contact!

'I know but you're my boss and I was raised respectful.' He chuckled as he floated down, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and leaving a streak of dirt behind.

'I'm not your boss, I'm your boss's son' he explained for the twentieth time 'anyway I thought it was hot and maybe you'd all like a drink? Oh but where's the rest of the team?' He asked, stepping out of the way and Clark beamed at him.

'Aw thanks, B-Brainy. I can't believe the others didn't show up again.' He huffed as he took the drink and gulped it down, taking a second too.

Brainy hummed in agreement, entranced by the way his neck moved. Truthfully he hadn't hired anyone else and just gave Clark more time to do everything, as well as extra pay.

So technically he was hks boss but he was using his father's money to pay for him? Whatever it didn't matter!

He had a whole plan to get Clark to touch him, passing him a tool or shaking his hand, he'd offer to give Clark a massage but he was pretty sure his hands would break if he tried.

'Well. You do a fantastic job anyway but I wouldn't want to overwork you…. How about a break?' He asked and Clark looked tempted.

'Well, I do gotta finish the Elsi enclosure before it gets dark.' He muttered.

'You'll have time! I promise.' He said and with that Clark followed him away from the beautiful garden to a more pristine part of the estate.

'So how are you? How's the journalism going?' Brainy asked curiously.

'Really well, I got an internship starting in a few months. Might need a new gardener then.' He said and Brainy swallowed down the upset that statement had him feeling.

He sent a silent command and the robots that were around the pool filed away before they arrived, leaving a blessedly private area as Clark whistled.

'This is nice.' He said and Brainy shrugged.

'It's one of my favorite parts of the estate.' He said. Mostly because his parents never used it.

With that he started to undress, slowly to gauge Clark's reaction and when he looked at the taller man he had his head turned away, scratching at a cheek as his ears turned red.

It made Brainy grin and continue till he was down to just the purple briefs he had prepared for today.

'Join me?' He asked as he gently eased into the water. It was blessedly cool.

'What? No no I couldn't, I'm dirty.' He said and Brainy rolled his eyes.

'Then wash off? It's what water is for right?' He teased and Clark took off his hat, huffing out before he gave a grin.

He put his foot up on a small wall and started unlacing his boots and Brainy rested against the pool wall, biting at his bottom lip as he watched him kick off each boot and then undo his belt with a swish sound that made Brainy feel hot.

He dipped under the water hoping to cool off and came up to see Clark throwing his red gingham shirt off his shoulders.

Brainy had a religious moment as Clark turned in nothing but his briefs as he took a run and jumped in, coming up to the surface and wiping his hands through his hair with a laugh.

'Ahh, that is wonderful.' He groaned, coming to join Brainy at the side with a wide smile.

'I told you.' He mused, hoping his nerves were being well masked.

Apparently they weren't as Clark swam up and put his hands either side of Brainy, trapping him against the wall as their legs brushed as they kept themselves afloat.

'Clark?' Brainy asked and the Kryptonian looked sheepish as his cheeks took on a deep red glow.

'Listen, I'm not really good with spotting these kinds of things and I know I'm gonna be out of a job after this but my friend swears that you're trying to hit on me? And I kind of hope you are?' He asked and Brainy felt like he was drowning as his words sunk in.

Screw the plan.

'I was! I mean, I am.' He confessed and Clark gave a relieved phew as he pressed in closer.

'There's this carnival back on Earth next week? I was thinking we can go together? It's nothing fancy that you're probably used to.' He started and Brainy put a finger against his lips, immediately Clark' eyes went lidded as he kissed at the finger against him.

'I would love too. And you're definitely fired but I assur you the severance package will be adequate.' He purred as floods of angry messages were being pelted at his brain.

Damn robot snitches…

Brainiac 5 put his father on mute as he circled his arms around Clark's neck and kissed him, jumping to part ten of the plan in one fell swoop!

#brainysupes #brainiac 5 x superman #personal #drabble #au prompt list

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fascinatedhelix · 4 years

Text

Some updates to the HK/NSR crossover AU, since the original was made pre-release (the following does contain spoilers!):

Ghost

Ran away from the Trankil Adoption Agency due to finding most humans too restrictive on their freedom; they’re accustomed to being able to come and go as they please, and the agency doesn’t really approve of trankil running around unattended. BBJ are more relaxed about it, leading to the little one being along the lines of a latchkey trankil.

Mayday and Zuke earn their trust by buying them food and helping them clean up in the restaurant’s bathroom, rather than just grabbing them and dragging them back to the agency. Aunty, for one, adores them, due to their sweet little face and how eagerly they eat her cooking.

Has pulled a knife on Kliff, multiple times, because he’s creepy as hell and sets off all their alarms, much to the exasperation of Zuke and Mayday. He tries bribing them with toys and snacks up until his betrayal, after which he almost gets stabbed again before BBJ drag Ghost with them to stop the fans.

Zuke doesn’t let them draw their blade in the sewer or on the streets, normally, but he doesn’t necessarily ban them from sharps entirely. He can tell they know how to use them, though he opts to let them use a kitchen knife instead of the haphazard scrap of metal they’ve been swinging around on the streets.

Zam has attempted to conduct interviews with Ghost before, but finds himself mostly just perplexed at their answers. "Okay, I’m looking at what appear to be, uh, hieroglyphics of some kind. I can see something that kind of looks like a rhinoceros beetle head... They’re shaking their head ‘no.’” The little section where he interviews them is nicknamed Ghost Tour.

Comet

They were sleeping in DJ Subatomic Supernova’s apartment at the time of the battle, since he didn’t think he’d need their help. They’re too small to be asked for a whole lot, anyway; he mostly has them around to keep himself company and have someone to talk to (or at, as the case may be).

Their sound energy absorbing powers would probably be enough to deactivate some of NSR’s robots; it comes in handy when the rogue robots are getting in the way of reinstating their guardian as charter.

Their favorite stuffed animal is a toy dolphin that DJSS calls Delphinus, though Comet calls them Splashy when they learn how to write.

As they grow older, their horns begin pointing backward and eventually curling into a similar shape to ram’s horns.

DJSS secretly relishes in the opportunity to have a legacy in the form of taking care of Comet, though he doesn’t know that they are probably more likely to carry his name farther into the future than any drones he sends up to space.

Bunny

They live with Remi, the artist and leader of the Sayu team. He treats them much like a little sibling, in the nice way, and gets them to watch some of the more family-friendly anime he watches; they’re particularly fond of Sailor Moon and Dragon Ball Z, even if they keep dismantling the figures he gets them. They’re much gentler with the plushies, though.

It takes a few weeks of watching Dodo and Sofa work on machinery to get them learning how to build stuff as well as break it. They make it an entire thing when they grow older, working on machinery.

They eventually grow cheek spines, not unlike some depictions of the adult Ghost, and otherwise heavily resemble Hornet as an adult. Much taller than her, though.

Sayu’s kind of reluctant to attack Ghost because they resemble Bunny so much; “You’re too cute to fight!” Zuke doesn’t like the idea of Ghost acting like a trankil shield in fights, but it does help throw off her aim.

Thorn

Yinu’s mom specifically chose the former Broken Vessel because they were the only trankil that expressed any interest in Yinu’s infodumping about classical music. They even responded to questions with head shaking or nodding.

They come to Yinu’s side after her piano breaks, letting go of their fight with Ghost quickly enough; they don’t fault their sibling for doing what they thought was right, even if they don’t understand it, but they believed Yinu needed their support more.

They’re taking violin lessons, as it’s a touch easier to adjust to playing with four fingers on that then on piano. They get pretty good at it as an adult, though in the modern day their playing is a touch mediocre.

After their performance at Yinu’s concert, fighting in her defense with a stolen machete, Yinu’s mom at first grounds Thorn for stealing and playing with sharps, but concedes to put them in a fencing program to “get it out of their system.” They turn out a lot more competent than the instructors were expecting, and intimidate the crap out of their peers. When they’re older they take up a proper swordfighting class.

Yinu does wind up joining them in learning fencing, after her mother gets a recommendation to get her to get more exercise to avoid literally rooting herself to her piano (not an unusual issue for plant folks; they have to move pretty regularly or else they get stuck in one spot and have to be cut out). Her mom worries that she takes to it a touch too eagerly, perhaps because of her relative helplessness.

Thorn acts fairly stoic and polite most of the time, but they can be quite the handful when something piques their interest. They get banned from at least one Renaissance fair due to playing with the swords or poking the roasting pig. Yinu starts covering for them after they start bribing her with extra sweets.

Scotty

Neon J initially treated them like a trainee when he got them, but it quickly slipped into adopted child territory when he realized just how young they were. He did want kids back when he was human, so he took very quickly to the role of adoptive father.

Scotty is very good at learning language and patterns, so they wind up learning English writing pretty quickly for one of their kind. Because of this, Neon J becomes one of the few privy to the nature of the vessels, though he is uncharacteristically quiet about it.

1010 adores Scotty, occasionally posting about them on social media, making them a bit of a fandom darling, though the band does have to put out PSAs about not getting a trankil irresponsibly.

Scotty’s favorite food is cheese tarts and cheese danishes, which they tend to be awarded for good behavior.

Scotty is a very active child; they dance, they run around the mansion, they swim in the pool (and just about any fountain they run across, much to Neon J’s embarrassment), and they can’t be brought within 100 feet of a dog park without trying to pet every animal in the vicinity.

They try their best to comfort their adoptive dad when he’s suffering from phantom pains or flashbacks, though they don’t know the techniques very well. Their usual method is gently patting his hand or leaning against him (among vessels they’d be leaning against each other in large groups, leading to one big cuddle pile; they can’t do it here by themselves, but they’ll sure as hell try).

Much to Neon J’s embarrassment, they become quite the potty mouth (er, hands) when they get older. He’s a sailor, he slips up every now and then!

Riley

The former Greenpath Vessel is rather happy to leave behind the harsh life they lived back in Hallownest, though they find the most success in recounting their old life through art.

Eve tends to be a very dramatic teacher, but quite gentle with her little friend. She couldn’t have asked for a more enthusiastic student, though.

Eve’s quite protective of the little thing; she’s not quite as heartbroken about Zuke’s abandonment due to the company of her apprentice/adopted child, but the thought of them being taken away tends to scare her quite a bit. As such, she tends to spoil them rotten, though they’re still quite sweet.

Riley has a degree of PTSD from their experience in Hallownest; they’re very sensitive to sounds and movement in their peripheral, and have bitten and scratched people on more than one occasion for getting in their bubble without proper warning or consent. Eve’s pretty good about avoiding their blindspot and having her footsteps make noise they can track.

Eve’s among the first to learn about the Lord of Shades and the dream realm due to her teaching her magic painting to Riley. With her help, they created the Dark Mirror, which allows people to enter a sort of waking simulation of the dream realm, though it tends to seriously disorient people not accustomed to messing with reality (musicians tend to do fine, but normal folks? Not so much). It becomes a very useful communication tool when discussing Hallownest and how it functioned.

Sterling

The former Hollow Knight views themselves as deeply indebted to Tatiana, though also viewing her as a friend. She gave them a name, a new purpose, and an opportunity to live again without the constraints of their failed duty; of course they’re going to feel kind of guilty about it.

Only the NSR artists and a few select NSR personnel have seen them in person, and the first thing people tend to notice is their sheer size. Tatiana worries how much renovations will have to be done to accommodate the rest of their kin once they grow up, if they wind up matching their eldest sibling.

They tend to have a reasonably positive relationship with the artists, due to their kindness towards the vessels and generally respectful attitude towards the behemoth of a trankil. DJSS tends to rant about space in their general direction as his idea of small talk, and they tolerate it. He also not so subtly squees when he sees Comet interacting with their elder sibling. Sayu’s team thinks they’re anime hero levels of cool, sword and all, and Bunny tends to agree, trying to challenge them to fight. Yinu’s mom tends to scrutinize them as reference for Thorn’s later growth, though Yinu herself and Thorn tend to climb the adult trankil like a tree for fun. Neon J respects them deeply as a knight and technical prince, though Scotty’s pretty content to try and get them to play when they visit. Eve appreciates their good manners and willingness to listen, and Riley rather likes showing them their drawings.

Tatiana tends to treat Sterling as something of a confidante, due to their quiet nature and strong sense of loyalty. She worries they idolize her a touch too much to be healthy, but knowing what she does about their past, she’s not sure if a human therapist would help.

The wings grew in a couple weeks before the Rock Revolution; evidently they hadn’t developed quite enough to develop them before they had been sealed, leading to serious back troubles during their fight before their rebirth. It was a pretty chaotic affair helping them through their last molt, considering the other trankil who’ve been molting had a lot less to shed.

Tatiana tends to scold Sterling for digging through her old rock cassettes, though she comes to regret it after the whole debacle with BBJ.

Sterling’s way more ruthless than Tatiana asks for or is fully aware of; they tend to take threats to their new life, siblings, and new companions very, very seriously, and god help the poor soul who convinces them to act. Kliff doesn’t last long after the Rock Revolution, because of this, not that anyone notices.

Misc

The vessels were united under the leadership of Ghost to create the Lord of Shades, and upon killing and absorbing the Radiance, they’ve essentially become the collective gods of the Dream Realm as well as the Void and probably Death too. The level of focus and cooperation needed to fully activate these powers is incredibly high, especially after the vessels begin developing individual personalities, so there won’t be any casual appearances of the Shade Lord any time soon.

Vessels don’t need to eat to grow for the first five or six years of their life, as they have a lot of soul energy stored in their bodies from birth to facilitate growth in the Abyss (their “yolk”), but once that’s expended they won’t grow any more until they gain a stable food source and a safe environment to molt, hence why Ghost spent such a long time being so small, despite being the same age as Sterling. While not eating won’t kill them, humans don’t know that.

The average height for an adult vessel is 8 feet, from the bottom of their feet to base of their horns, whereas a newly hatched vessel (like Comet) is about the size of a tennis ball curled up.

People who aren’t accustomed to the otherworldly presence of the trankil tend to freak out when they’re nearby; the sheer emptiness of their eyes, the expressionless faces, the inhuman size and proportions all give anybody not used to it the heebie-jeebies. Of course, Vinyl City locals stopped caring pretty shortly after they first got the trankil.

#crossover nonsense #hollow knight #no straight roads #nsr spoilers

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sourmarmales · 5 years

Text

Found — Tokoyami x Reader

SOULMATE AU

Words: 2000+

Summary: You spent a large chunk of your life not knowing if your soulmate was even alive. Your tattoo never darkening, leaving you in a dark spot until the day you found him.

You lived in a world where everyone had a tattoo like marking just like their supposed other half, their ‘soulmate’. No other pair had the same marking. It became darker the closer your soulmate was to you, or lighter the farther away they get.

Around the age of 11 is when yours appeared on the back of your left hand, a pair of birds joined together with a crescent moon shape above it. You waited for the day it’d become the dark black you desired, but it was always a white or light grey.

You were currently 23 and it never even got close to a dark grey. It stayed a pale white. A lonely, ghostly white.

When you were 20, it had caused you to move from your family home and begin to isolate yourself whenever possible not being able to see the pitying eyes any longer.

Jealousy raged through you like a thick fog during this time but there was nothing you could do but wait.

But you soon enough you had found some happiness in your roommates.

You lived with your new friend Amiki and her soulmate Naoko, all of you just barely able to pay off your two-bedroom apartment together. They both had quirks, Naoko himself worked for a hero agency as a sidekick when possible.

You on the other hand…

You were quirk-less. You worked full time for the ‘Community Center’, only earning three dollars more than minimum wage. You did anything for them, being as that you weren’t the best at saying no. You were almost there pack mule of the company.

You stood up from the office chair and sucked in a breath as you stretch your arms high into the air, your back making a loud crack before you let your arms drop. You grabbed your jacket and purse, letting them lazily sit in your arms as you reach for all the paperwork on your desk, a few slid underneath and you decided to just pick them up tomorrow.

You stepped out of the small, almost closet-sized, room. The lights already off in the building, you slumped your shoulders and walked along the wall towards the exit, you straightened up once you heard laughing voices. You could see two figures standing in the lobby, the only part still lit up in the building.

“(Y/N)! There you are! I was looking everywhere for you!” Your supervisor called, you just stood in front of him, quirking an eyebrow. He and your shift lead snickered, bumping each other with their arms like they were both in on a secret joke.

“Why…?” You were hesitant to ask, you just wanted to go home, and knowing him for a while you already knew he needed you to do something that could have been done by anyone.

“I need you to go to the upper floor and set it up for seating around the table for fifty and around the wall for one hundred and fifty.”

“But I’m off for the night?” You mumbled in question and glanced at your shift lead who had a tentacle arm quirk. He could indisputably do the job in 30 minutes where it’d take you to triple that.

“I knew I could count on you. See you at eight tomorrow!” He shouted, choosing to ignore you. He brought his hand down on your back, hard, in what they would call a ‘friendly gesture’. The items you had flew out of your arms, scattering all over the ground. They just laughed as they walked out of the entrance, leaving you in the building alone.

You wondered why you didn’t quit but then it all came rushing to you, you couldn’t afford it.

‘You just have to be patient.’ You thought to yourself as you looked at your pale tattoo. ‘The day will come eventually.’

You slowly gathered the discarded belongings from the cold stone floor. You straightened your skirt and walked towards the elevator so you could just rush in and leave.

You headed to the upper floor, what was called the ‘Skyline Meeting Room’. It was only for big company meetings but there hadn’t been one scheduled for tomorrow so you thought the whole thing was a waste of your time.

You half-assed the setup and by the time you finally got to the apartment the time had already hit one in the morning. You forgot to lock the door as you headed straight to your room, not even managing to take off the business required black pencil skirt, dark blue button-up, and black two-inch heels, you fell into an uncomfortable slumber aided by your exhaustion.

Your dreams were filled with strange creatures of many colors and variety, a normal dream that you wouldn’t remember when you woke up.

The smell of burnt toast and the sound of shuffling in the apartment disturbed your rest. You rolled off the bed figuring it was time to wake up anyways. Cringing at the uncomfortably twisted clothes, you busted out of your room and straight into the bathroom, looking at the small clock hanging on the wall.

You eyes narrowing to focus past your sleepy daze, you could see the small hand on 6 and the big hand near the bottom. You decided it was around 6:30 in the morning and decided you would just rush your routine. You jumped in the shower, being quick to wash up before almost slipping out of the shower. Before standing in the mirror and brushing your hair and teeth before running across the hall to your room to put on some clothes.

You walked into the kitchen wearing a fresh new skirt and blouse, not wanting to put the agonizing heels on just yet. You bounced on your toes as you looked at the cereal selection in the cabinet.

A loud gasp followed by shatter made you whip around in shock. Your roommate stood staring at you with wide eyes her, her shoulder tense and her hands still in the original form when she was holding the now destroyed plate.

“Amiki what’s wrong?” You snapped out, your heart racing from the sudden loud noises.

“Your tattoo!” She screamed, her arm flying up, her other hand covering her mouth. You quickly brought your arm up seeing the marking an almost black. The breath caught in your throat, as you just stared at it.

“Oh my god!” You yelled out and she shoved you in pure excitement, you stumbling before catching yourself on the counter, holding onto it like it was your life support.

“You gotta go find him!” She yelled, a wide smile resting on her face.

You had the same look as you stared at your hand until the realization set in and your smile faded, your thumb rubbing over the marking. “I have work I can’t-”

“Fuck work! Call in sick!” She placed her hands on her hips, eyebrows quirked in an angry look.

“Ami I… I can’t. I just have to hope he finds me.”

“Your work better be glad to have someone as dedicated as you.” She sighed, seeing the sad look that adorned your face. You both quietly continuing your morning routine with a few additional glances at your hand.

Once you got to work, you shoved past the large body of people in front of your work building, you held up your badge for the security at the door and they let you through with a grunt.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You asked the front desk assistant, she cocked her eyebrow, seeming irritated with your simple question.

“You’re joking right?” She almost snapped, you quickly shook your head and she brought her hand up, rubbing her temples before speaking quickly. “We’re hosting the annual pro hero meeting. I thought you would have known, seeing as that you have more clearance with these things than I do. Is that good?”

“Yes, thank you.” You quickly said, moving away from her station you headed up towards your ‘office’. You saw a small typed note on your door and yanked it off.

‘(Y/N), Come up to the Skyline Meeting Room and stand out in front of the doors. There is a cart of refreshments for our distinguished guests that will need to be distributed during the 15-minute break. Just stay put and wait for my instructions. -HK’

Your shoulders slumped as you dropped your belongings into your office before fast walking to the elevator. You walked up to the doors and stood next to one of the guards. You stood straight up and held your hands together, covering your tattoo in the process.

You watched as a few pro heroes walked into the room, but only one caught your eye. You watched as the jet-black pro walked past. He seemed stressed as he walked into the room, his eyes moved everywhere almost seeming to be searching the ground for answers.

You felt a small vibration a few minutes later and pulled out your phone, a message.

‘Bring me tea now.’

You grabbed the tea from the cart and slipped into the room, bringing in the tea for your boss as requested. You had your head down as you headed over to him on the sidelines. The meeting had already started. You handed him the tea and promptly walked out, standing outside the door, waiting for further instructions. Unknown to you of the eyes that followed you around inside.

As time went by you felt another buzz and quickly looked down to your phone, ‘A simple, ‘Bring in the carts’ popped up and you grabbed onto one of the carts, quickly pushing it towards the door, one of the security guards held the doors open as you moved the cart of refreshments. You nodded to him as you pushed it in. There was a large amount of what seemed like friendly chatter. You put on a fake smile as you walked around. You offered the drinks around, and handed them to people with your left hand hiding your marking for no real reason.

They all were super friendly, answering with pleases and thank you’s. All but two, Ground Zero who already had his reputation and Tsukuyomi who still seemed frazzled as he intently starred as you walked around the table.

Once you finished your rounds you walked towards the exit. You could faintly hear past the loud talking a chair squeal as it was pushed from somewhere with force, quick footsteps approached before your right wrist was ripped from the cart. The pro hero Tsukuyomi was staring at your marking intently.

“I’m sorry, but could you let go?” You whispered in shock, you paled a bit seeing the whole room was staring at you two, cameras pointed in your direction. It was more of his unexpected behavior that had everyone quiet.

You watched as the feathers on his head puffed up. He held onto your wrist, his thumb ran over your marking a few times before his hand slipped into yours in a smooth motion. The other moved to push his cape away from his arm, he twisted it towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. You could see the dark black tattoo on his forearm.

It matched yours perfectly.

You stared for a few more seconds before your head snapped up to look at him, he released your hands as he scooped you up in a tight hug. It didn’t take you any time to wrap your arms around his neck in pure bliss. He’s what you’ve been waiting for all this time.

Your eyes flooded with happy tears as he spun you around. As he set you down, his hands slid back into yours as he bumped his forehead against yours. Your eyes shut as you sat there for a minute, a wide smile on your face.

“Tsukuyomi! Tsukuyomi!” The press called at him.

He ignored them as he leaned into your ear, “I’m Fumikage Tokoyami.”

You whispered back yours, still dazed from the fast and unanticipated meeting of your soulmate.

A bombardment of questions flowed out like a dam breaking, the camera flashes were almost blinding.

“Is that your soulmate?” “Did you know she was here?” “Are you just meeting?” “What’s her name?” “What are you going to do now?”

He just stood blocking most of the camera’s from your view as his cape covered your side.

“Those questions will all be answered eventually. As of now no comment.” He said before pulling you around and pushing you out the door before they shut.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” You supervisor called, you stopped and looked over your shoulder before turning around to face him. His face was red with anger. “And where do you think you are going?” He snapped and you looked at the ground.

“I was just-”

“You planned this didn’t you?” He growled steam pouring from his ears in anger. “You can’t just leave now!” “Yes, sir.” You mumbled, your hand covering your tattoo in instinct. Your body was then abruptly tugged to the side, you looked up to see a cloudy blackbird hovering over Tokoyami’s form

“She will no longer be working here. Effective immediately.”

#fumikage tokoyami #tokoyami fukimage #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #tokoyami x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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