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offaeandcreation · 3 years

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A Pearl Lost and Found

“This is the composition I made for my final exam; its name is ‘A Pearl Button Lost and Found.’” She announced. Finally, she settled her fingers on the guqin and rang her first chord.

Meng Shi waited and waited. Trained A-Yao in everything she knew; reading, writing, music, even squirreling away every extra coin on cultivation manuals. A-Yao must be ready for when Jin Guangshan returned for them. For him. For her. Day in and day out. He trained. She worked.

Jin Guangshan did not return.

CW: Implied/Referenced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Financial Issues Referenced

AO3

A breeze rushed through the open hall, sweeping the white and blue banners of the Gusu Lan Sect into a dance. Though the noise never passed a whisper, a hush settled as a young woman ambled into the hall. With her guqin tucked in a silk sleeve under her arm, robes curling around her like blooming petals of a flower, Meng Shi settled in her place at the front of the hall like an immortal cultivator, long fingers ghosting over the qin strings.

“This is the composition I made for my final exam; its name is ‘A Pearl Button Lost and Found.’” She announced. Finally, she settled her fingers on the guqin and rang her first chord.

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

She dreamed Jin Guangshan would return for her. Constructed fantasies where one night he would sweep into the brothel, take A-Yao into his arms, smiling as he did so, and ferry them away. Far away.

Deep in the nights, while a client would take their pleasure inside her, Meng Shi would dream: it was him, not a client. She was in Jin Guangshan’s bed, married and unworried when her next meal would be. And A-Yao was practicing cultivation and studying the six arts, not hidden in a closet away from wandering eyes. Sometimes, when the client was especially rough, not bothering to even use oil, (or letting her slip it on), she would clutch the pearl button he had given her so tightly she would find its imprint inscribed into her palm the next morning.

A button and a dream. That’s all she had.

Day in and day out. He trained. She worked.

Jin Guangshan did not return.

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

The chords soft and slow, required Meng Shi to hold down zither strings while plucking others. And then the pause. The last note hung in the air, stringing the audience into an uncomfortable pause. Made them freeze, spines akin to metal spikes – waiting for the breath, the respite. Just like she was all those years. At least, they had the privilege of it lasting only for a moment.

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

The one who freed her out of the brothel did not wear gold. At least in his robes; he brought no buttons or promises.

In fact, when they first met, she didn’t even know who he was.

The last visages of sunlight vanished beneath the horizon. A couple days off, only during the time she bled. Cramps tightened their grip around Meng Shi’s waist and it must have shown on her face for A-Yao crept closer, clutching at her skirt. She squeezed his hand with a smile, making certain her eyes crinkled. A-Yao returned the grin. She wondered if it was as false as her own.

The merchant selling the cultivation manuals often took his place at the end of the street, just at the intersection between the poor and rich red district in Yunping. She scanned the crowd for the familiar squirrelly-mustached man in blue or green hemp. Loud chatter boomed in the busy street as vendors and prostitutes called out to potential customers. Potential coin. Another meal. Another day.

“Are you looking for your friends?” A voice said very much close by. The sort of slurred smirking tone Meng Shi was all too familiar with. She pulled A-Yao close, using her sleeve and skirts to hide him, her fingers dug into her purse, nails scraping through the thin material into the too little coin. She peered over her shoulder, scanning for the drunkard.

Not even a couple paces away, said drunkard lounged on a nearby pillar, liquor pouring down his chin as he looked down on what appeared to be a cloaked person—their back to her. The fabric looked thin, and it shimmered against the torchlight.

Red silk, most likely. Rich.

Though the weather wasn’t as humid as it usually was this time of year, it was obvious the person wished to hide their identity. As if a rich man could shed his origin so easily in these parts.

“I asked where Yunmeng is.” A youthful voice replied, coming from the throat of someone who just stepped over the door’s ledge of adolescence into adulthood thoug it didn’t crack, “either tell me or I’m leaving.”

A gold piece flashed in the torchlight.

Her coin purse too light.

The merchant may raise the price again. And she wouldn’t even be able to afford a meal for A-Yao.

“A-Niang?” A-Yao asked. They had stopped walking.

The drunkard’s eyes glittered, a slow dripping grin spread on his face, “Ah, what a junior, so impatient. Too embarrassed to enter a brothel? With your pretty face, you may get even a discount!”

The young man bristled, hand flying to his side. The drunkard’s smile fell away into horror, skin sheet-white.

“I’m sure if I swing around your pretty face, anyone would give me a discount.” The young man hissed.

Meng Shi frowned. Rich and spoiled. Likely to flash a weapon he couldn’t even yield.

She pulled A-Yao along. Not worth the risk.

“A-Niang,” A-Yao said as they slipped back into the flow of the crowd, “I think he is a cultivator.”

~~~

The merchant raised the price.

Meng Shi tucked the booklet into her sleeve alongside the painfully empty purse. A-Yao dragged his feet on the pebbled ground, kicking up dirt clouds. They walked down a smaller street now, crowds and people leaning more into the open, brightly colored shops. Surprisingly enough, this side of the street remained empty. Not even drunkards or thieves hung around. Something about a ghost wandering the area. Not that she had ever seen it.

“What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer, frowning at her sleeve before pulling at her skirt to continue back to the brothel, “It’s nothing, A-Niang.”

The third time he got like this.

“A-Yao, please-” Meng Shi stopped, clutching the book closer to herself.

“The cultivator is here.” A-Yao interrupted, pointing behind her instead.

Meng Shi turned, and indeed a silhouette with a cloak leaped from balcony to balcony, right to the roof of an abandoned tea-house. No one had picked up the place due to the leaky, broken roof…

“Master cultivator! Watch out!” The cry tore out of her throat.

The moment the words left her mouth, the cultivator sunk into the rooftop as if it devoured him. A loud, painful crash.

Meng Shi covered her mouth with her sleeve. The tea-house simply too unsafe for her to enter, and what even could she offer?

What is it with rich men fooling around and getting themselves into trouble?

She should just leave. Perhaps the cultivator broke a bone or two, but he had the funds for a doctor, while if she so much as attempted to climb into the unstable building, a scratch could kill her.

A red light blinked in the holes of the house. Bright. Like a silent firework.

And the young cultivator shot up through the hole in the roof, cloak billowing around him like a flying flag. Sword beneath him, engulfed in the colors of a scarlet star.

Is this how Jin Guangshan flew? Would A-Yao one day be like an immortal, flying above them all?

She clutched the book closer. Hopefully.

The red light remained only for a moment, disappearing before anyone in the crowd noticed him.

He landed right in front of them. The wind swirled around him, cupping his figure in the air. A slow descent, a god. Meng Shi pulled A-Yao close, bowing her head.

“Is this esteemed cultivator injured?” She asked, eyeing the red, bleeding slashes on his exposed hands and chin. Her mind raced, tracing the building of the local doctor on a mental map. Yes, down two streets and-

“No need.” The cultivator replied.

A-Yao’s gasp tore her attention back to him.

The red slices slowly shrunk and disappeared, like wiping off makeup.

The cloak’s hood that framed his face slipped to reveal dark hair wound up in an elaborate hairstyle, clipped probably with some luxurious pin, hidden in shadow. Round red eyes met hers, “I appreciate your warning, however.”

Irises scanned her before shifting to A-Yao, peeking his head from behind her. He too must have seen how his wounds vanished in a flash.

“What a sweet-faced son, impressed?” Voice tilted up with a pride of a purring cat. Crescent smile to match.

A-Yao nodded, though his white-knuckled grip on Meng Shi’s skirt revealed his trepidation.

The cultivator slid a sword into its sheath, gold with motifs woven in. But the light from the shops and vendors proved to be insufficient lighting to see what they were.

Very expensive. Perhaps when Jin Guangshan took A-Yao to the Jinlintai, he would finally get one.

“Perhaps you can help me with a matter.” The cultivator said, “do you know-”

“Yunmeng is on the northern end of the city which you can find the lake to cross to reach it following up this street,” A-Yao said, pointing behind the cultivator.

Meng Shi squeezed A-Yao’s shoulder, “do not interrupt someone, A-Yao.” Much less a rich, dangerous cultivator.

The cultivator blinked before bursting into laughter, “I actually was going to ask something else, but clearly you must have walked by me earlier to overhear that interesting conversation.”

A cold pit dropped into Meng Shi’s gut. She swung her sleeve to cover A-Yao. Maybe he wouldn’t punish them for the interruption. Maybe-

The booklet went flying, clattering into the dirt as its flimsy spine snapped. Colorful papers skidded across the ground, flashing their contents for all to see.

And the coin purse slumped to the ground, not even containing a coin for a single clunk.

Meng Shi gasped. A-Yao scrambled on his hands and knees, picking up the scattered paper. She too, though tears blurred her vision, never mind her skirt, scrambled the precious paper up from the ground. There is no way the merchant would even allow them to exchange the book! He would demand money. And the pages were out-of-order now, not even numbered. How would A-Yao use it now?!

“What is this?” The cultivator leaned over, picking up a sheet.

Meng Shi bowed her head, shoulders shaking. Please don’t laugh at her. Please don’t-

“A cultivation manual, esteemed cultivator,” A-Yao answered, also bowing his head, remembering his manners.

Meng Shi dared to look up. The cultivator frowned at the sheet, flipping it back and forth. The line between his brows growing into a crevice. His gaze shifted back to A-Yao, “You eagerly want to become a cultivator?”

A-Yao hesitated, glancing at Meng Shi for assurance.

“I’d prefer you wouldn’t lie to me. There won’t be a consequence for your answer, but I hate liars.” The cultivator interrupted. He crossed his arms, but the page didn’t so much as crinkle. Long sharp nails barely ghosting the fragile paper.

“My father is a cultivator,” A-Yao replied, voice even.

“Oh?” The cultivator leaned back, posture relaxing a bit, “And who is this man? I might know him.”

“Sect Leader Jin Guangshan.”

The cultivator… flinched. He opened his mouth, paused, before closing.

Did something happen to Jin Guangshan? Why did he flinch? Was he this cultivator’s sworn enemy? Were they in danger?

He said nothing. And A-Yao remained in his spot, not so much as flinching or trembling under the red-eyed stare. Even with placid smile—the same mask Meng Shi wore with the more difficult clients.

The cultivator finally sighed, breaking the silence, and changing the subject, “What do you think of this… manual?” The way the words came out sounded like he just had eaten some strange-tasting fruit.

Meng Shi’s hand curled into a fist, hidden beneath her sleeve. How dare he? She stayed up night after night, working, spreading her damned legs for ferocious beasts to claw a meal for them. To get A-Yao schooled. To get those manuals so he could leave and never look back. Meng Shi would bet her pearl button given as a gift, as a promise, that this man wouldn’t survive one night working as a prostitute. And he had the gall to look down at the manual. At her?

A-Yao’s gaze flittered to the ground.

“Remember, I don’t like liars.” The cultivator reminded him.

“These manuals are useless,” A-Yao said. Now he shook, eyes flitting between her and the cultivator.

The wind stole her breath.

No.

No, he had to be incorrect.

A-Yao must have been doing something wrong, perhaps the manuals were too advanced or-

The cultivator smiled, sharp-edged like the sword he wore on his belt, “Correct. These are more likely to give you Qi deviation than anything else. A useless endeavor.” He then turned to her.

Only clasping her hands together, digging nails into her flesh kept her from bursting into tears, “You have a clever son. A shame really that-” he paused, frowning at her. The relaxed arrogance in his posture dissipated. Tht stupid smirk fell away.

A rich. Spoiled. Brat-

“Your name?”

He suddenly wanted to know her name?!

“Meng Shi.” She hissed, grinding her teeth together to keep angry words from spilling.

At A-Yao, “and yours?”

“Meng Yao.” Obediently, responded with a salute.

“We’ll meet again then.” The cultivator said with a wave, cloak billowing like a curtain in the wind as he walked away, without a goodbye.

“A-Niang…”

“Let’s go home.”

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

The melody changed to something heavier, sadness into tension, but a playful sharp tune echoed within the pauses. How else would she paint their benefactor? Outer appearance merely a veneer of youth. Sharp-edged and almost bordering cruel. But unlike a certain man with a certain button, the man kept his promise. Foreshadowed in a lack of a goodbye and by the tune she plucked on the zither.

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

Two nights later, as Meng Shi calculated the number of clients she would need to take on extra to buy a refill of rouge, anything but to think about the collection of false manuals stacked in a corner behind A-Yao when a rapid knock forced her to open her door early.

Sisi waited with a frown on her face. Lips already painted in her favorite deep rose pink, “Madame says someone is here for you.”

Meng Shi’s fingers dug into the old wood. Nails too short, clipped to defenseless crescent-moons, unable to even make a scratch on her damn door.

“A-Yao.” She gestured at her son, who had looked up from his poetry book when the door knocked, skin turning pale, “go hide. Only come out when I come for you.”

He nodded, slipping past her and Sisi with his shoulders hunched.

“Watch over him, please-”

Sisi grabbed her hand, warming her cold, trembling fingers between her palms, “I’ll scratch out anyone who so much as looks his direction.”

Meng Shi nodded, touching her hair, making sure not a single stubborn strand stood out of place. And she went to the first floor.

Madame Meng stood at the front room of the brothel with a cloaked man, taller than the young cultivator she met a few nights before but wearing the same color outer robes, standing akin to a column holding up a temple, with a stone expression to match.

“It appears a Young Master bought your contract.” Madame Meng twitched a false smile as Meng Shi lifted her head from her bow, “and your son’s.”

Meng Shi’s jaw dropped. She stared at the Madame before shifting to the unexpressive, unfamiliar man.

“Take any possessions and your son. I’ll escort you to your carriage.” The man said.

The debt? The contract? Everything? Paid?

The glimmer of excitement popped. The red robe. He must have been that youngster’s servant or something. Most likely, he bought her to be his concubine.

But a concubine didn’t have to take on clients.

Better than a prostitute.

Maybe if she asked nicely, she could ask for A-Yao to learn cultivation…

“Of course, please give me half a sichen.” She bowed again. Her throat closed up.

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

Meng Shi’s hands flew on the guqin. The melody bright, full of scales and chords, forcing her arms to run up and down the entirety of the instrument. Sweat trickled down her spine. Above the fast-paced song, murmurs among the crowd hummed in the background.

And then a pause, before she started the remix, a softer, sweeter tune than the first set of verses she played.

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

The youngster cultivator ended up to be older than she was, revealing himself to be Sect Leader Wen.

He had no interest in making her his concubine.

Instead, he had A-Yao immediately swept away to join the other junior cultivators. And herself, a two-story house within Nightless City, with two servants, and an allowance.

Meng Shi waited with baited breath for the ‘but.’ When Sect Leader Wen announced it, he easily read her.

“All talent should be part of my sect. Why should I let anyone else snatch your son up?” The response came with another of his sharp-toothed smiles.

Well… as long as A-Yao wasn’t in any danger…

That was it. Right? A-Yao studied cultivation under the banners of the greatest Sect in the cultivation world. She no longer had to take clients to bring food to the table. And she bought Sisi’s contract as well.

But her hands itched.

“The Gusu Lan Sect’s expertise is in musical cultivation,” A-Yao mentioned offhandedly once, among a tirade of other information about the Great Sects.

An idea popped like a firecracker. At the very least, she would have fun for an evening if it didn’t go as planned.

~~~

The Wen Clan had more than enough money to throw at almost any form of entertainment while juggling the expenses of running the biggest sect there was without a hitch. Every couple of evenings, entertainers would perform for the clan in their private dining room. Guests, lucky enough to be invited, often came back with stories such as the one time Madame Wen paid a troupe of fire-breathing acrobats to accompany an announcement of her pregnancy. By coincidence, A-Yao befriended First Master Wen Xu and had been invited to dine with the main branch more than a handful of times. He mentioned Sect Leader Wen paid musicians this time around.

Asking permission to play one song on the guqin on that nights proved to be quite easy: certainly helped to slip a bag of coins to the troupe leader and flutter her eyelashes.

She prepared like she would for work, excluding the ruffling of fabric and sewing of her sleeves so they would hitch up whenever she twisted her wrist. With her guqin in its silk sleeve, she slipped into the room, earning a nod from the musicians and a confused stare by the bodyguard Wen Zhuliu.

“It’s just a performance. Don’t worry.” She whispered to him, placing a manicured finger to her lips.

It earned her more blinking, but he let her in.

Servants milled about the never-ending sea of tables in the private dining hall. Members of the Wen clan with their flame robes sat in sections, eating and talking, passing and turning the revolving trays filled to the brim with soups, meats, and noodles. And at the back of the room, on an elevated platform, the main branch with their fiery collars towered above the rest. And A-Yao.

He quickly noticed her presence, followed by Sect Leader Wen. A raised eyebrow, but she only bowed in his direction before taking a seat where the musicians set up.

Straight back, head angled, guqin propped on the carpeted. And she played.

It was a melody she composed many years ago. Sweet like the lychee she peeled for A-Yao, sprinkled with a little Yunmeng spice she could afford once a year.

The piece came to an end to a silent room. Disciples and elders alike all watched her with mesmerized gazes. And then the clapping began.

~~~

“An excellent performance; I didn’t hear such quality for many years.” Sect Leader Wen mentioned the following day. On purpose, Meng Shi escorted A-Yao to his classes, something she hadn’t done since the first six months of their arrival. And as she prepared to leave, Sect Leader Wen materialized behind her.

Meng Shi bowed, “many thanks to Sect Leader.” She clutched her sleeves to not flick her wrists.

Sect Leader Wen tilted his head, “but I’m guessing you didn’t perform just for fun.”

Meng Shi returns a smile, “I was hoping to showcase my abilities, so Sect Leader may consider allowing me to continue my music study?”

“Oh?~” A pause as Sect Leader Wen tapped under his chin, most likely pondering the matter, “This year, the Gusu Lan Sect will host a discussion conference. Perhaps you wish to come with Meng Yao?”

~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~~🎵~~~🎵~~~🎵~

The music ended. A long chord held with crescendoing trills before drifting off into oblivion. Only its echo remained in the quiet hall.

Unlike the private dining hall of the Wen clan, the Lan Sect clapped quietly—crisp and polite.

Even A-Yao matched their volume and rhythm, though she could read his posture to be restless with how wide his grin spread on his face and how the muscles in his hands twitched.

Meng Shi saluted, signaling the end of her examination

Lan Qiren, acting Sect Leader, gave a single curt nod. Perhaps it was just the light, but she swore he wore a tiny twitch of a smile, “The examiners and I will return once we have our verdict.”

Even with the budding...relationship? between them, she was sure Lan Qiren would judge her purely on merit and performance.

An incense stick later, with a smile no longer hidden, he announced:

She passed.

#Meng shi #meng yao #jin guangyao #wen ruohan #lan qiren #jin guangshan #mo dao zu shi

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forsakenoathkeeper · 3 years

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I Am Alive (chapter 5/?)

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Synopsis: You were a mechanical engineer, now a nurse for androids, who moved back to Detroit after the revolution to offer aid. After reconciling with an old friend, you became rather acquainted with his android partner.

Please support me on AO3 & thanks for reading ♥

Connor wasn't oblivious to what he was doing.

'Rogue' was one word that came to mind; but, that was a bit extreme all things considered. He wasn't acting against the police and he didn't intend to commit any crimes, especially heinous ones.

He was hunting the android alone, without clearance, without jurisdiction.

-not like this was the first time.

He had intel that the human detectives didn't have. A good lot of them didn't respect him, some more obvious than others, and often disregarded his input on things. Of course, they were never hesitant to let him take the lead when dealing with dangerous individuals or gunfire.

Most of the time, it didn’t bother him.

Fowler saw him as a competent detective and needed the manpower, now more than ever. Hank trusted him with his life and stood up for him. That was all the recognition that Connor needed.

Having to work alone wasn’t all that terrible. He was faster, stronger, more capable of discretion... usually. He didn't have to worry about putting someone in danger or being slowed down. It also meant that he could-

-bend the rules in ways that only androids were capable of.

The other detectives were hung up on the possibility that Evelin Wheeler was murdered by someone she had crossed in her days as a lawyer. Connor had found seven cases that ended with death threats. Three of those cases, the plaintiffs or victims, were still alive and living in or near Detroit.

While other detectives were investigating those potential leads, Connor took to the streets to see if he could locate Robert. Maybe it was his programming talking; but, Connor was suspicious of the android.

Clouds were heavy and dark in the sky, the smell of approaching rain thick in the air. Connor was waiting outside of Haven in a nearby alleyway, perched up against a crate where he could duck back into hiding or lean out and see into the street.

He was standing near an abandoned warehouse that seemed to have suffered structural damage at one point, rubble having collapsed into the plot nearby. The towering structure was an eyesore and provided good cover for the detective. It was also across the street from Haven.

Connor fumbled with his coat pocket, fishing out a coin. He rolled it between his fingers as he waited.

You had been texting him, a very welcomed distraction from the monotony. Though, if Connor was being honest, waiting never bothered him. He couldn’t quite tell if it was because his android, a part of his programming, or just the way he was.

"u know u dont have to" was your latest message, popping up in the top right corner of his HUD. You had trouble getting your car started this morning and had taken a taxi to work. When Connor found out, he asked if he could give you a ride home.

"If I'm being honest, it is not just for your sake. I want to see you" he texted back.

It had been a little over week since he last saw you. Work had been hectic for you both, between countless damaged androids and Connor knee deep in multiple cases, one in particular that was rubbing him the wrong way. Even if he only got to sit in a car with you for thirty minutes, that would be good enough.

"i miss u too" your reply came in. Connor smiled at that and briefly pondered how to reply.

When people were 'an item', what did they do? Attending a restaurant together seemed to be the most common answer that came up in his searches; however, considering Connor did not require sustenance, and lacked the components to dispose of them, he couldn't eat.

Surprisingly, ‘drinking’ came up a lot, too. There was no way he was taking you to a sleazy bar. There were always clubs. Did you like that sort of thing? He didn’t want to make assumptions about your lifestyle. There was the added concern that Connor didn’t know if he could dance. He had never tried it before.

'Walks in the park' also came up in his searches; while Connor was not easily perturbed by the weather, you likely would find it far too cold outside. The local movie theatres were closed down temporarily due to the uprising, leaving that option out, as well.

He could invite you over to his apartment; but, what if you took that as an unwanted suggestion? He missed you in that manner, maybe more than he cared to admit; but, he didn't want to give the impression that it was all he cared about.

Connor's LED was blaring yellow as he internally argued with himself. He aggressively shifted his coin from one hand to the other and flung it high into the air with a flick of his thumb.

Humans did this - 'heads or tails' - so he tried it.

When it fell back down, he snatched it from the air, opened his palm and glanced down. The coin had landed on tails. Connor glared at the harmless nickel disk for not giving him the results he wanted.

Okay. Maybe he was thinking too hard.

-maybe he just needed to go for it.

"I want to treat you to something. If you would like that?" Connor messaged you.

Likely caught up in something, you didn’t reply immediately. So, Connor began rotating his coin again, rolling it between his fingers, flicking it back and forth between his palms. He had no idea where this quirk came from: if it was programmed into him or some bizarre string of code that manifested itself. He could do it without much processing power, making it rather relaxing.

"if you wanna? u dont have to do anything like that" your message popped up on his HUD some time later.

"Is it weird that I want to?" Connor messaged you back.

"not at all" you replied. He read it in your soft voice and found himself feeling bashful. He felt weird, like he wanted to do things for you - unnecessary things that you were perfectly capable of doing yourself.

"theres a park i loved as a kid. we can go when it warms up?" you offered.

"I would like that" Connor replied.

A thought came to him, something that he chided himself for: he had hoped for something he could do for you, now, not later.

But, then-

"until then i like ur apartment" immediately came in afterward.

Connor gawked at the message like an idiot for a moment or two before he snapped out of it. Maybe you had read his mind... somehow.

He had no need for a TV because he could get all the news on the interface in his processing unit. He didn't have a need for many dishes for obvious reasons and only bothered to keep the fridge plugged in in case Hank brought something over. His apartment was severely under furnished by human standards.

Suddenly, he wanted to change that.

"You are welcome anytime" he replied. "I'll make sure its warmer this time"

Your reply came fairly quickly; but, Connor didn't see it.

Movement caught his eye.

An android was approaching Haven, not that that was anything new. However, he dressed in a dirty hoodie and torn up pants, ankle-high work boots matching what Connor had seen in Evelin Wheeler's home, the correct height and stature for the model type seen in Louis’ memories.

Connor slid the coin back into his coat pocket and focused his optical sensors on the android. He couldn't get a good enough look from this angle to see into the propped up hood.

The detective waited outside while the other android crossed the threshold into Haven.

Markus wanted to do things the right way. Connor respected that.

It meant that he would inform Robert the police were looking for him and try to encourage him to speak with them. If he was innocent, that meant he had nothing to hide. But Connor knew that Robert would likely attempt to flee, even if he was innocent.

The android was inside the building for eleven minutes and some odd seconds before he stormed out the front and trotted down the street. Connor didn't waste any time taking up pursuit. The android had some haste to his steps, but wasn't running. Still, Connor knew he would lose him if he dawdled for a second.

Rain began to fall, beginning in gentle sprinkles that coated the concrete and asphalt in faint specs. Connor could feel the rain like gentle taps against his outer skin. It was useful: the noise made it harder to properly hear the sounds of their footsteps. That potentially risked the chance that Connor would lose Robert; but, it also meant he was less likely to be detected.

He needed an empty, quiet place where he could interrogate him. But, Connor also was well aware of the fact that he didn't have backup. If the android proved to be more dangerous than he anticipated, he would be alone and at great risk.

-again, this was nothing new.

Connor recognized the route Robert was taking. He was heading for the industrial district's harbor.

It wasn't abandoned. Factory work had resumed, albeit with struggles considering the android workforce had been lost. However, people were trying to return to normal life. They needed to; and so, the ports reopened and shipments starting to flow again.

The detective continued to stalk behind the android for miles, paying no mind to the fact that he was steadily growing farther and farther away from where he had parked his car, nor the fact that he was getting soaked by the rain.

When they arrived at the harbor, Robert took a path through a rundown building that was likely once a communication hub for a business that went under decades ago. It was longer than a direct route, but provided cover, less any of the human workers at the nearby plants spotted him.

In following, Connor realized that abandoned shipping containers were piled up outside. The rust and erosion patterns suggested they had been here a long time.

At the end of the row of containers, another building, a steel hub right at the edge of the water. Normally, these were open, designed to be for receiving and sending shipments, unloading. However, someone had taken the time to board it up.

Robert entered through a hastily cut out hole acting as a doorway.

Connor knew this was the end of the line. He was going to have to face Robert here.

He took one, careful step past the threshold, and realized there was an echo. That alone made it near impossible to continue sneakily. When Connor stepped forward, he felt something scan him. It was harmless, a perimeter censor: the kind of motion detector that could pick up android's serial numbers with a quick scan, and send alerts to the programmed android. It was, essentially, an intruder alert.

The detective turned his head to the adjacent wall. Sure enough, there it was, the size of a quarter, at head level, eyeing him.

He was intrigued that Robert had taken the time to setup defenses here. It wasn't particularly deterring, just a simple alarm that would prevent him from being snuck up on. Connor could hear Robert's shoes loudly squeak on the floor. He was pacing, probably deciding his next move.

Connor continued, turning down the hall and stepping into the main hull.

When Robert spotted him, he took a few steps back, maintaining distance between them. Connor took up a firm stance, feet shoulder length apart, arms crossed in front of him, hands cupped, like a soldier might stand.

"Why are you following me?" Robert called out, sounding more annoyed than anything else. The echo in the room was loud, creating an obnoxious tremor around them.

"I wanted to talk to you - ask you a few things," Connor replied calmly.

Robert was silent for a moment, eyeing Connor suspiciously. "You're the detective android," he said lowly. "I heard stories...” Robert looked him up and down. “You're not as intimidating as I expected."

If that was intended to insult Connor, all it managed to do was make him curious. What kind of images had Robert conjured in his mind of the android detective?

"Why haven't you removed your indicator?" Robert asked in a manner that was almost taunting. "You think we're equal to humans, don't you? Why wear something that sets us apart?"

"It doesn't matter to me if people know I am an android," Connor answered, maintaining his passive tone. It wasn't entirely the truth. Sometimes, he wanted people to know he was an android. He was once frightened by the idea of deviancy; now, it felt like a badge of honor. Maybe, he was prideful: he was the first detective android to join the force, and the last and only of his model.

"You work for the humans - against us," Robert accused. “What makes you think you have any right to stand with us?”

"I don't work against androids. I work against murderers," Connor proclaimed. He could see panic flash behind Robert's eyes. But, the android was quick to compose himself. "-human or android," Connor added on.

Robert opened his mouth; but, Connor, growing tired of this pointless banter, decided to be direct.

"I'm here because I believe you killed Evelin Wheeler."

"Who?" Robert asked, his head tilting to the side. From his lack of concern, Connor couldn't quite identify if he was being sincere, or just didn't care.

"An elderly woman who was being cared for by an android," Connor elaborated robotically.

Robert shrugged. "What makes you think I did that?"

"I saw you harassing the android living with her," Connor answered, tone lowering.

Robert settled a firm glare on Connor. "Harassing? I wanted to help him be free."

Connor kept his stoic expression, eyes unyielding of his emotions, LED strong blue. "I'm glad you remember them," he replied lowly.

The detective could see some stress rise in Robert. He wasn't frightened by Connor. He was growing steadily more and more angered by him.

"Then, surely you-"

"He was delusional," Robert interrupted sharply, clearly insulted. "Called her 'family'. I had to help him. He was being controlled by that human. I set him free."

"He was free,” Connor corrected him. “You hate humans. That's what it is. It has nothing to do with justice.” He maintained his persona: a cold, calculating detective.

The other android didn't seem to like that word. "You still elevate them above us, you hypocrite!" Robert snarled. "Don't talk to me about justice."

"Human or android, you killed an innocent woman in cold blood," the detective said lowly, letting his stare darken slightly.

"Where's your proof?" Robert challenged.

"Your shoes match the impressions at the crime scene," Connor stated bluntly. "You also were seen harassing the family-" Robert twitched at the word. "-a week before the murder. That's enough circumstantial evidence to obtain a warrant for your memories for that night."

"Where's your w-warrant, huh?" Robert challenged, his voice faltering slightly. "Why am I not under arrest, yet? You have nothing!" Robert shouted, his voice echoing around the chamber.

Connor narrowed his eyes slightly. "742-11-904, you are under arrest for trespassing on private property-"

Robert suddenly shifted and charged at Connor. Being a unit designed for industry work, he was bigger than Connor, bulkier with a wider frame and greater weight capacity; but, Connor was agile, flexible, and designed for combat. He avoided his assault with ease, but wasn't able to counter. His back hit the wall and Robert continued down the hallway past him.

Connor took up pursuit, finding that Robert took a different path out. He chased him into the harbor, out in the open, where security lights shined down on them. Workers from a nearby plant were perched on a balcony on the second floor. Connor could hear their surprised murmurs, "what the hell - you see that shit?"

Chain link covered the edge of the dock to act as a barrier to prevent falls. Connor contemplated pulling his gun on Robert; however, trespassing wasn't an offense worthy of firing, and he had yet to obtain the warrant he needed for the murder case. Pulling his gun would have been a one-way ticket to suspension, or likely worse.

Robert wasn't made for this. Connor was going to catch up to him. The android likely knew this. He had to take a path that Connor wouldn’t follow. He climbed the chain link, reaching the top before Connor got to him, and dived over the edge, straight into the harbor. The splash was drowned out by the rain tapping on the metal roofs nearby.

Connor looked over the edge to where the dark waters lapped at the concrete platform. Naturally, he couldn’t see anything through the murky water. He sighed, placing one hand on the chain link to lean against it.

"Well, so much for that," he groaned to himself.

It was unlikely that Robert could stay submerged for long, even less likely that he would surface here. He wasn’t going to return to this hiding place, nor Haven. Connor would have to find him through other means.

The rain started to pick up, sprinkling morphing to heavy droplets. Connor's eyes adjusted to lighting, or lack of, naturally. He was too focused on finding Robert that he failed to realize the sun had set. The time was normally hidden on his HUD as it was intrusive, distracting. He didn't need sleep. He didn't need rest. He could theoretically go days without a break.

When he brought the time temporarily back into view briefly, he realized it was 7:17. Your shift ended at 7 tonight, and he had promised he would be there.

"Shit!" he cursed out loud, swiveling away from the fence.

As he trotted away, shoes making wet sopping noises on the concrete, Connor started a message, "I'm sorry. I'm going to be a little late".

Before he sent it, he realized that he had missed your previous message.

"hold u to eet" you had replied. It was in response to his promise that the apartment would be warmer next time. But, it also struck him as a painful reminder that you had placed trust in his ability to get you home safely, and in a timely manner.

The rain continued to pick up until it was pouring down, like tiny rocks pummeling his body. It didn't hurt, but it was exhausting. He had fucked up, twice. He failed to capture Robert and now he was delaying you.

Instead of sending that message, he decided to call.

It rang once, then twice-

"Oh - shit - are you here already?" you blurted into the phone as soon as you answered.

"N-no, I-" he stammered. "I'm going to be late. I'm sorry."

"Actually - that's fine. I got so caught up in this thirium shipment, I didn't realize what time it was," you explained, sounding out of breath. "I was afraid I was keeping you."

"I wouldn't have minded waiting," Connor replied, feeling some relief at your words.

"No - don't say that," you scolded gently. "Don't take bullshit from anyone, Connor."

"Ugh-" he stammered. Did he take bullshit from people? Maybe he did and he just didn't care most of the time. Was waiting for you bullshit, anyway? He didn’t need to sleep, afterall.

"Working late, too, huh?" you breathed into the phone.

"Field work," Connor replied lowly.

You chuckled into the phone. "You know I can take a taxi if you're-"

"No, I-" he interrupted sharply. "I want to see you. Please."

"Connor," you breathed into the phone.

His phone wasn't a handheld device. It was an interface build into his processor. He could hear you directly in his head. Even through the slight distortion created by radio signals, the sound of your voice still managed to do something to him. Maybe he underestimated how badly he missed you.

In the background, Connor could hear one of your coworkers, "ooooo - who's Connor?" teasing at you in a purposely obnoxious voice.

You laughed quietly. "My boyfriend," you answered.

My boyfriend-

For some reason, something as mundane as you telling people that, made him really happy.

There was some shuffling noises, likely you moving around and trying to balance something in one hand and your phone in the other.

"Is he cute?" a different voice asked this time.

Connor was prepared to eavesdrop on this conversation in full; but, after some loud shuffling, you came back, speaking into the phone properly. "I'm gonna let you go, now - get this finished up - oh shit it's raining - let me know when you're in the parking lot?"

"Understood," he replied automatically, a habit. Plus, if he was being honest, he was disappointed.

"-and don't stress about it, Connor-" you added on hastily.

Fuck that-

-as soon as you hung up, Connor was running to his parked car.

#connor x reader #deviant connor #deviant connor x reader #dbh fanfic #rk800 x reader #rk800 smut #connor smut

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yukimoji · 4 years

Text

My World: Part 3 ( Tanjiro Kamado x Reader )

( a/n: hello! welcome to part 3 and the final part of the “my world” series! this became longer than i had initially expected, i apologize deeply for that. also, i'm sorry if it seemed like i shitted on kanao too much, im so sorry bby i still love u. take note there will be grammar errors and typos, bec im blind and i always seem to miss those errors rip. thank you all for following “my world”, and i hope you all enjoy! )

(also, how do u even write angst?? i tried my best and i hope ya’ll dont get too disappointed with my poor excuse of angst lololol)

Part 1 I 2 I 3

Total words: 6600+ words

Genre: Angst and Fluff

!!MAJOR, MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

Warnings: Mentions of blood

With each passing day, it felt like you were getting closer towards the edge of the line.

In a dark tunnel, you stood there, wandering aimlessly towards the light that could not be even seen for miles and miles. An endless loop of nothingness, as the feeling of dread, terror, and fear consumes you from the hidden depths of your mind.

You hoped and wished that one day you could see even a tiny glimpse of what lies ahead of you. Wondering if there's more to it than the endless bloodshed and horrors you've seen hundreds of times now.

But then, suddenly, a warm entity started to walk alongside you. A feeling as warm as the bright rays of the morning sun, and an inexplicable feeling of something accompanying you on your endless journey.

Even when immersed in darkness, the underlying warmth seemed to radiate from that figure. There was a tinge of happiness in your harsh world that made the road to the unseen light seem less lonely than before.

However, with every step, the distant light gets dimmer and darker.

And the warm feeling beside you blazes into a raging, roaring, sea of fire.

The morning after you received the heartfelt letter from Tanjiro, word broke out that Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Zenitsu had defeated Lower Moon One.

You were rejoiced to hear that your comrades had defeated another member of the Twelve Demon Moons. When you heard the news for the first time, you promptly darted to find the nearest pen and paper to congratulate the trio. However, you stopped dead in your tracks when your Kasugai Crow screeched out the status of the Hashira that the trio had accompanied.

Rengoku Kyojuro, the Flame Hashira, has died after an encounter with Upper Moon Three.

Your eyes were as big as saucers, as you stood there in shock. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Upper Moon 3? Hashira? Dead?

You've never really had a proper conversation with the Flame Hashira, but you've had high respects for him. The way he would hold his sword with pride and his never-ending sense of justice would always bring hope to you and your fellow slayers. You could still remember the words of encouragement he would say every time he would have encountered the lower ranks like you.

"Always set your heart ablaze!"

Hearing about the death of such an important figure in the Demon Slayer Corps made you tighten your jaw. Your hand clenches at the thought of someone so kind and strong had died of such a painful death. You inhaled tiny and long breaths as you try to calm yourself down from the frustration rising in your veins.

He would've wanted his death to inspire the Demon Slayers to fight harder, and you will. His fate will not be in vain as long as the Demon Slayer Corps will continue fighting on.

If you feel angry, you could only imagine as to how Tanjiro felt. Knowing the boy, he would've befriended and had grown attached to the fallen Hashira. Your face contorted into one of sadness. He would be distraught, seeing the Flame Hashira die in front of his very eyes.

You glanced at the paper and the pen at the corner of your vision, and decided to write to the Hanafuda-clad slayer. You went to grab the items and sat down to start writing your letter.

You couldn't be there to physically comfort him, you were too far away. You prayed that this letter would suffice, as you could not do anything more to console the Burgundy-haired boy.

Tanjiro made his way back towards the Butterfly Estate, after visiting the Rengoku Estate to deliver Kyojuro-san's final wishes. He gazed at the katana guard that was given to him by Senjoru, Kyojuro-san's little brother. He sighs sadly at the thought of the Flame Hashira, his words echoing in his mind.

"Live on and set your heart ablaze!"

Breathing out softly, his Crimson-hues looks upwards to the sky, staring at the moving clouds high above.

"CAW! A MESSAGE! A MESSAGE FOR KAMADO TANJIRO!"

"Yaah!" Tanjiro yells out in surprise at his crow's loud screeching, but his expression brightened at the sight of a letter attached to it's legs. He then puts his arm out to let the crow land on it.

"Thank you!" He affectionately pats the head of the crow, and proceeds to take the letter placed delicately on it's legs. The crow screeches once more, and takes off.

Tanjiro looks at the crow flying away, and returns his gaze towards the letter in his hands. He reads the message written in it, and can't help a smile forming from his lips.

"What can be done, is for us to not let it define our days to come. We can choose to heal, whilst bearing the scars, whether alone or with someone precious.

For as long as you want me to, I will be here for you."

I read that somewhere, but I couldn't remember where, hehe.

I'm sorry for what happened. I can't imagine what you're feeling, but I will always be here for you. Rengoku-san will not be forgotten, and he will always live in our hearts and memories.

Be kind to yourself, Tanjiro. You mean the whole world to me.

- [ L / N ] [ Y / N ]

Tanjiro chuckles softly at the letter, and holds it close to his chest. He sniffles as he flutters his eyes close, the corners of his mouth turning up into a thankful grin.

"Thank you, [ Y / N.]"

Months pass, another mission comes by after the completion of another mission. As the weeks gone by, you could find yourself growing stronger each passing day.

During your time apart, you and Tanjiro would often exchange letters. Usually, it was him describing his missions in full detail and how Zenitsu and Inosuke were doing as they worked alongside with each other. Every now and then, little scratches and odd pen marks will decorate the surface of the paper, which you could only assume is Nezuko's doing.

You, on the other hand, would also write about your missions. Occasionally, you would tell him about random stuff, little things on your mind as you go about your day.

One thing remains constant, though. The two of you would always end a letter with a heartfelt sentence that became your little way of saying "I love you" for each other.

"You mean the whole world to me."

Today, me, Inosuke, and Zenitsu went to Yoshiwara with Uzui-san. He basically forced us to come with him, because he wouldn't stop harassing the poor girls back at the Butterfly Estate if we didn't go. He said he was looking for his three wives, as they stopped contacting him after going undercover to find a demon in the district. Can you believe it? Three wives?!

When we arrived, Uzui-san immediately dressed us up as girls and we were sent off to brothels where we could hopefully find the demon causing havoc in the area. Honestly, I'm kind of glad that you weren't here to see me. Not because I don't want you to be with me, no no no! I actually miss you so much and I just want see you again and I just-

It's because I looked absolutely ridiculous! Seriously, it was a miracle that I was able to pass up as a girl!

Anyway, it's my first night here, and so far, there's no sign of a demon. There's been rumors going around about young women suddenly committing suicide without explanation. There's something fishy going on around here, that's for sure.

I'm going to end my letter here. Tomorrow's another day, and we will do our best to make this mission a success.

Stay safe, [ Y / N ].

You mean the whole world to me.

- Kamado Tanjiro

Of course, there were moments where you were worried sick for the boy. When news broke out that the Sound Pillar and the trio defeated Upper Moon 6 in the Red Light District, you were absolutely ecstatic. Another Upper Moon had been slain, and you couldn't be more proud for the trio.

That is, until Tanjiro abruptly stopped sending letters.

During those moments, you could only send letters to the Butterfly Estate, asking about Tanjiro's health and condition. You tried not to get your emotions get the best you, but you couldn't help it. Not when Tanjiro was laying in a bed, unconscious, and out of your reach.

You found comfort of the letters that replied to you. Kanao, the Butterfly Pillar's Tsuguko, started writing back to you, and kept you up-to-date of Tanjiro's well-being that would soothe your anxious nerves. You were thankful for her, as she would always write back to you every night without fail.

Gradually, you began to get to know her, and eventually thought of her as a friend. Since she was a little shy, you gladly told her about your days and endless missions, and maybe a little bit of jokes and puns to lighten up her day.

It wasn't long too until she started talking about the things she liked, like how she enjoys blowing soap bubbles and considers it a hobby. She would also talk about how she likes sweets and accessories, squishing cat paws and helping with the cooking at the Butterfly Estate.

Who knew, that the girl who wrecked you mercilessly during your Rehabilitation training was actually such a lovely and adorable girl who enjoyed the little things in life?

When Tanjiro finally recovered, you never stopped sending letters to Kanao. She was a fun pen pal and a friend to have, because she would listen to each time you would either rant about your day or just say some dumb puns when you're too bored to function.

One day, Tanjiro told you that he was going to the Swordsmith Village to ask for a replacement for his sword. That night, he spoke of how the Love Pillar and the Mist Pillar were present in the village, and how he had the chance of speaking to Genya Shinazugawa, the Wind Pillar's younger brother.

For days on end, the Crimson-eyed slayer would tell you about a training doll that mimicked the strongest Demon Slayer who ever lived. He would rant endlessly, telling you about a swordsmith who trained him to the bone without food and water. He told you, one day, he accidentally smashed the doll into pieces, revealing a worn and old sword hidden inside of it.

You snickered, and you could already hear Tanjiro's voice, which was loaded with panic and anxiety, just by reading the contents of his letters.

You were pleasantly shocked the next day, when your Crow announced the news of the deaths of Upper Moon Five and Upper Moon Four.

Tanjiro was like a magnet for the Upper Moons, and you can't help but feel a heavy sensation in the depths of your stomach.

It felt like the calm before the storm, as after Tanjiro's experience in the Swordsmith Village, there was a rapid decline in Demon activity all across the country.

However, it seemed like the crow didn't exactly tell you everything regarding the Village's aftermath.

After what seemed like forever, you made your way back to the Butterfly Estate. Since demons have not been running all over the place, there weren't as much many missions as there was before. Your crow yelled at you to go back to the estate, but hey, you weren't complaining about that.

You couldn't contain the excitement, a giddy expression ever present on your face. Each step brought you closer to your destination, and as the Estate finally presented itself to your vision, you practically skipped your way in order to reach the area faster.

You heard shouting in the distance. There were cries of panic, seemingly asking someone to come back. You didn't stop your hurried pace, but your eyes widened in both joy and shock when you saw the familiar raven locks of your demon friend, who was now running towards you at full speed.

In broad daylight.

"[ Y/N ]! [ Y/N ]! [ Y/N ]!" Nezuko cries out in joy, jumping at you with all of her strength. You couldn't react on time as she lands on you, and the both of you tumbled to the ground. She was hugging you, a hand affixed on top of your head, patting it relentlessly.

"Oof! Hi, Nezuko!" You laughed at her antics, and hugged her back without hesitation.

You were confused, that's for sure. Even though you were absolutely overjoyed to see your friend, your mind was screaming confused thoughts on how on earth she was able to hug you underneath the blazing sun. Not only that, she was not wearing her usual bamboo muzzle and she spoke your name! She actually spoke! Her voice was absolutely adorable!

"Welcome back!" She cheered happily, and you already feel yourself melt into a puddle at how cute she was acting. She continued to nuzzle onto you, and you felt a sense of pride knowing that an incredibly cute and sweet girl was aggressively showering you with love and affection.

"EH?! [ Y / N ]'S BACK! SHE'S BACK!" You snapped your head to the source, and beamed at the sight of Zenitsu calling out to the residents of the estate, signalling your arrival.

"It's nice to see you again, Zenitsu!" You called out and waved at him, a bright smile present on your face. You couldn't really move, not when Nezuko wasn't done hugging you and spoiling you rotten with her affection.

Zenitsu's eyes widened for a second, until he began jumping around and screaming out a series of chants like the madman he is.

"REALLY? IT'S REALLY NICE TO SEE ME AGAIN?! AW! DON'T FLATTER ME, [ Y / N ]! YOU SHOULD'VE TOLD ME BEFORE THAT YOU HELD ME IN SUCH A HIGH REGARD! YOU KNOW, IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO ASK FOR MY HAND IN MARRIAGE!"

Your smile began to fade, and you could look at him with utter dismay as he proceeded to yell out nonsense.

But then, a familiar voice calls out. The voice that you've yearned to hear for months, as it makes your heart skip a beat as it gets louder and closer.

Tanjiro comes out from the estate, looking around frantically, a desperate expression evident in his gentle features. He looks at your direction and he goes stiff as a statue the moment he locks eyes with you. His eyes began to water, his lower lip quivering from the sight of you.

He races up to you, rivaling with the pace Nezuko had when she assaulted you. Instantaneously, he engulfs you in his loving embrace, and you couldn't hold back your giggles and laughter as he proceeded to wreak havoc on your face with little kisses.

Nezuko lets out a sound of pleasure and releases her hold on you. She watched her brother as he coddled you with so much attention, and she clapped happily at the sight.

After what seemed like ages, Tanjiro stopped attacking your face with kisses and raised a hand to softly caress your cheek. His crimson-hues looked at you with so much passion and adoration, and you gazed at him lovingly in reciprocation.

Slowly he leans in to you, his forehead brushing yours. The corners of his mouth are pulled up, a ridiculously goofy expression adoring his features. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks because of the close proximity to his face, but still, you gave him the biggest grin you could muster up.

He chuckles and closes his eyes, nuzzling on you as he holds you in his arms protectively.

"I missed you. So, so much." He breathes out, and you giggle as his warm breath fans your flushed face.

"I missed you too, you big baby." You fluttered your [ E / C ] close, holding him tight and not wanting to let go.

After months of hardship, stress, and pain, you find yourself once again welcomed by your home and your world.

You spent the next few days roaming around the estate, with Tanjiro beside you, holding your hand at every moment. Not just that, you've got to spend time in the garden with Nezuko again! Only this time, you were accompanied by the presence of Zenitsu, Inosuke, and even Kanao!

Each day was filled with laughter and joy. Even when the Hashiras decided to train every slayer in harsh training routines, your happiness never faded. Given the sweat and soreness of your muscles as you shift from one Hashira to another, you would always be rewarded with the sight of the bright stars shining brightly over all of you.

But one day, that happiness seemed to fade away. The devastation and cruelty that you had faced before came back from the ashes of the past, as each second escalated into the catastrophic hell that you were now forced to face.

One night, every Hashira unexpectedly went on a high alert. You couldn't understand what was going on, and you were even more perplexed when Tanjiro suddenly asked you to stay alert and left in a haste. You stood beside the campfire, confused, and you couldn't control the familiar feeling of dread swallowing you up again.

Your instinct was telling you that something terrible and unprecedented was about to happen. Your heart was thumping uncontrollably on your chest, as you started to sweat and tremble from the overwhelming feeling of uncertainty that made shivers run up to your spine.

Unfortunately, your fears were confirmed when a loud explosion was heard in the distance.

You gasped, as you felt the ground suddenly disappear. You couldn't respond quickly, your mind spinning out of control as you fell down to a fortress filled with demons that seemed to stretch out forever.

You breath hitched as you came back to your senses. You looked around, trying to find something or somewhere that could end your endless free fall. You felt a sense of hope as an area where you could land safely came into view. Your eyebrows were knit together, mouth clenching as you performed a breathing technique and landed swiftly at the edge of the structure.

The moment you landed, demons started to flock towards you. Your blood began to boil, rage rapidly overcoming you. You unsheathed out your sword, tightened your grip on the handle, and immediately slashed your way through the hordes of demons. It was then you realized, that it was the beginning of the end, and that it was going to be a long night.

In a blink of an eye, smiles turned into anger, laughter turned into screams, as what was once happiness was now destroyed and replaced by rage and anguish.

And whenever happiness is destroyed,

There's always the smell of blood.

Hours of endless bloodshed. Thousands upon thousands of casualties had rained upon the ranks of the Demon Slayer Corps. You had seen the brutal fighting with your very own eyes, and the rage only intensified with each life taken by the hands of those ruthless demons.

The Twelve Demon Moons had perished. But at the cost of their heads, were the lives of your mentors, comrades, and friends.

However, it finally seemed like their sacrifices were not in vain.

The sun had risen, and Muzan Kibutsuji howled out in pain as the sun's fiery rays started to burn him. He had taken the form of a large, hideous baby, as he desperately tries to hide away from the sun's burning gaze.

Almost everybody was severely injured; there were severed limbs, large gashes, and heavily bleeding wounds.

Despite the overwhelming pain, the remaining slayers continued to fight on, too high on adrenaline and determination in order to bring Muzan to his demise. Everybody held on, performing everything they could do to make the Demon King roast under the sunlight and suffer for his crimes.

Right now, you were driving a bus, speeding towards the crawling abomination. You slammed on the pedals, accelerating at full speed as you rammed into the enormous, yet horrific excuse of a baby.

"Stay down, you bastard!" You yelled out, a dangerous glint twinkling in your eyes as you couldn't help the sides lips tugging up into smug smirk.

You jumped out of the vehicle right before a big hand smashed the front portion, as a voice commands you and nearby Kakushi to push the back portion to block Muzan from moving further. You all gathered together and pushed with all your remaining strength, yells of determination echoing out to stop Muzan from going further.

Your eyes widen as a large hand rises, but before he could smash you all into pieces, the Wind Pillar successfully cut off it's hand on time. You all continued to push, but Muzan was starting to overpower you all and was slowly going over the vehicle.

Then, you heard the loud clank of chains, and saw the monster stumble back as a large chain had wrapped itself on the demon's neck, forcing him to stay in place. You all moved out, and went to the Stone Pillar, aiding him by holding him in place as he uses all his power to grip unto the chains in order to pin the beast down. Muzan hollered out, as he continued to burn under the sun.

Determined to find shade and escape death, the huge monstrosity resorted to dig himself into the earth. The Hashiras then took turns attacking the abomination, attempting to wear off its stamina. All hope seemed lost, as the chains, and all of your energy rapidly depleted as Muzan continued his struggle.

Then, against all odds, the demon throws his head back in a final, ear piercing scream. Gigantic tears fell down from it's hideous face, and after what seemed like eternity, it's body finally crumbled into nothingness.

There was a pause. You all held your breath, the heavy tension in the air suffocating you all. Disbelief was evident on your faces, as you could not properly process what had just gone down.

Then, you all erupted into loud yells of victory.

Muzan is dead. The Demon Slayers had won.

You all cried out in happiness. Centuries of battle, bloodshed, and death finally bearing its fruit. Everyone embraced each other, beaming smiles present in every slayer's face as the shouts of triumph echoed across the battlefield.

"It's not over yet!" A Kakushi yells out, "Stand up! Treat the wounded! Don't cry, you fools, stay focused! We can save them!" You all looked around, and saw the bodies of several Hashira and Demon Slayers slumped up all around. The celebration ceased as everybody started to scatter; newly found strength flooding them as they sought out to save the heavily injured.

In your peripheral vision, you saw Kanao hunched up and unconscious, and she was being tended by several Kakushi. You ran up to her, and your jaw clenched as you observed the injuries and blows she had taken. You kneeled down, and asked for one of them for bandages so you could help patch up your friend.

As you started to wrap up some of Kanao's injuries, lilac hues started to flutter open. She takes a moment to look at her surroundings, and when she sees you and a few Kakushi patching her up, her lips formed a small yet grateful smile.

"...Thank you."

Your eyes darted to look up to the voice, you gasped in relief and your expression brightened as Kanao weakly gives you a wry smile.

You stared at her, the corners of your mouth tugging up and your eyes flickering with gratitude. After wrapping her wounds, you gently took her hand and encased it with your own.

"We won, Kanao." You whispered. Shutting your eyes close, you recalled the memories of how hard she fought against Muzan, along with Zenitsu, Inosuke, and the Hashiras. The ravenette just paused, and her mouth falling open as she was reflecting on what you had just told to her. Then, she breathes out in delight, and slowly raised her other hand to caress your own. Kanao's whole face lit up, and she beams at you, nodding her head in appreciation.

But then, suddenly, in the corner of her vision, something captures Kanao's attention. She stiffened, and her hand started to tremble under your gentle hold. Her forehead furrowed and she struggled to find her voice.

" [ Y - Y / N ]-chan..!"

You opened your [ E / C ] eyes, and glanced at your friend's facial features. You grew concerned, trying to make sense as to why she was shaking and sweating so much. Then, loud shouts began to echo and you felt a heavy sensation start to enclose your chest. You started to tremble, the loud yells becoming more frantic by each second. The feeling of dread returned, seemingly to taunt you as goosebumps rapidly washed over you. The girl returned her attention to your bewildered expression, her lilac orbs filled with worry and regret.

You hesitantly turned around and looked to where Kanao had her gaze on to figure out the source of her behavior. Instantaneously, your eyebrows elevated, a hand immediately clasping your mouth. Your eyes welled up in tears and the cries of distress escaped away as you stomached in the scene before you.

You stared ahead to meet the figure of your beloved Tanjiro.

But he didn't look like your Tanjiro.

A beast roared out, screaming and assaulting any being that was attempting to get close to him. You saw a glimpse of Zenitsu and Inosuke trying to hold back your transformed lover, the Water Pillar frantically yelling orders not get close to the boy, but to no avail.

It felt like the whole world had shattered right before your very eyes. You struggled to swallow back the bile rising to your throat, your breathes becoming more erratic as the hot tears endlessly fall from your eyes. You become absolutely racked with sobs, the heavy feeling on your chest intensifying to the point of suffocating you.

"Stop crying!" You mentally scold yourself. "Now is not the time to cry! You have to help! You have to save him!"

But you couldn't move. You couldn't speak. You couldn't do anything but wail out in absolute heartbreak as Tanjiro further succumbed into hysteria.

No matter how hard you tried, your feet were glued to the ground. Your mind hurled insults, screaming at you to step forward, to run, and try to save your beloved. You could only look up to the heavens, reciting a silent prayer pleading to every Deity who was listening to stop this madness.

In the midst of your emotional turmoil, you have flashes of what once was. You recall how Tanjiro would hold you in moments of peace, how his eyes would fill up with tenderness and love whenever you locked eyes with him, and how his beaming smile seemed to brighten up even your darkest days.

Your heart continues to pound painfully in your chest as you gasp out endless incoherent breathes. You could hear his loving voice resonate in your head, your cries becoming more erratic at the thought that you could never hear his warmth-filled sound again.

"You mean the whole world to me, [ Y / N ]."

You could only look helplessly as the now human Nezuko began to cry out to her corrupted brother, holding him in place so that he could no longer hurt more people. Tanjiro continued to screech and thrash in the sister's grasp, his screams releasing powerful waves of energy that would blowed away anyone who had even dared to come near him.

Zenitsu and Inosuke were swept away by the strong shockwaves, but Nezuko never weakened her grasp, as she continues to hold on to her brother desperately. Tanjiro dropped down, the sound of the tearing cloth ringing around as massive and sharp tentacles exploded out of his back. Zenitsu cries out, terror overtaking his face as he desperately reaches out to save Nezuko.

But something still puzzles you. Your stomach still twisted at the sight of Nezuko bleeding, but what was perplexing was that Tanjiro declined to bite his sister. Even though he had a taste of his sister's blood, he resisted and refused to attack her.

Maybe, just maybe, your Tanjiro was still there, fighting to break free from his eternal prison.

"[ Y / N ]-chan." Kanao calls out. You snap out of you emotional daze and faced the girl. She looked at you with a hopeful expression, and she takes out a small box from her belt.

"We can still save him..." She starts, opening the box to reveal an injection. "My master gave this to me, and she said that this is medicine made out of Wisteria flowers that could turn demons back into humans."

Kanao coughs up blood, her face scrunching up as she groans out in discomfort. She stumbles forward because of the pain, and you instantly hold her to prevent her from falling to the ground. She looks up to you, and gives you a sad smile.

"Tanjiro turned into a demon just now. Even if I could evade his attacks with one eye, my injuries could get the best of me." She coughs again, placing a hand to her re-opened wound on her waist. She takes your hand and places the injection on it.

"There's still time, [ Y / N ]. Tanjiro loves you too much to even raise a hand at you."

You looked down at the injection, your eyes filled with renewed determination. You nodded in agreement, then took long breaths to calm yourself down. You knew what you needed to do, and now, you could save him.

You wiped the trails of dried tears on your face, eyebrows drewn together as your expression hardened. Tightening your grip on the object, you stood up and turned around to confront Tanjiro.

"Thank you." You breathed out, forever grateful to Kanao for giving you this oppurtunity.

You inhaled deeply, oxygen rapidly flooding your veins. You could feel your muscles become stronger each second, as adrenaline fills you once more. Bursts of energy traveled all across your body, giving you the courage and power you needed to pull this off. You focused your strength on your legs, and in a flash, you dashed towards your lover.

"Tanjiro.."

The demon takes notice of a presence rapidly approaching him. He growls and turns his attention towards you. Scowling, he screeches loudly, tentacles aggressively whipping around at all angles to attack you.

"When this is all over, let's make our own world,"

You looked up to meet his eyes, and you were with scarlet ones, which were filled with hatred and rage. Your breathe hitches momentarily as a shiver ran up to your spine.

"A world where no one could tears us apart."

Tanjiro had never looked at you with such hostility before. However, you didn't let that faze you as you continuously dodged his never ending assaults against you.

"Enough is enough, Tanjiro."

You jumped and evaded the whips his tentacles threw at you. Then, an opening presents itself, your eyes dilating and you bolted even closer until you came face to face with the demon.

"You musn't make Nezuko cry."

Tanjiro howls out loudly, and he raises a hand with the intent to smash you. You quickly caught the glimpse of his clenched fist, and you leapt, avoiding his arm as it plunged downwards with such speed and strength.

"Come back to us, and you won't be ever lost again,"

You swore everything looked like it was in slow motion. In that moment, a bright light engulfed your surroundings. Your body flew above the demon, and when his back came into full view, you immediately pushed the cure into him. Tears shone in your [ E / C ] orbs, as a love-filled smile appeared on your features.

You didn't even feel the pain when a rouge tentacle managed to successfully pierce itself into you. Your tender gaze never left the boy, and you finally breathed out in relief. You fluttered your eyes close, and you tumbled helplessly against the surface.

"You are the whole world to me."

"[ Y / N]!" Nezuko calls out to you, her face contorted into one of pure horror as she watches your body make harsh contact with the ground.

Suddenly, Tanjiro stops moving. His tentacles ceased it's assaults, and slowly, but surely, it retreats back into his body. The boy to started to shake uncontrollably, exhaling out heavy breathes as his eyes trembled wildly as he stares at the sight of your injured body.

With all the remaining strength you could muster up, you looked up to the demon. Instead of the hatred and rage you had saw moments ago, Tanjiro's Scarlet-hues were filled with regret. Tears ran down his cheeks, sadness clouding over his demonic features.

You inhaled softly, and with each passing moment, you saw his eyes slowly turn back into the Crimson colored orbs that you loved so much. As seconds pass by, your vision began to darken. Exhaling out in exhaustion, you felt thankful that you get to see a glimpse of your Tanjiro once more. You heard loud shouts resound through the field, feeling something tending to your wounds before your sight was further consumed by darkness as you fell into unconsciousness.

" -Ma..?"

" -Ma!"

"Mama!"

You jolt up in surprise, trying to catch your breath as cold sweat falls down from the side of your face.

You take a moment to observe your surroundings, and you could find yourself sitting in a bench that was located at an open lake. Sakura trees were abundant, and their beauty was obviously not overlooked as pink blossoms flew around with the cool spring breeze. Flora was flourishing all over, and the sounds of the little animals living in the lake was prominent.

A nightmare? You thought. Sighing deeply, you let yourself fall back in the bench where you were sitting on. A small hand shakes on your own frantically, as you turned your head and smiled softly as a gigantic pair of eyes, clearly filled with worry, gazed into your own.

"I'm sorry, Takeo. Did Mama scare you?" You chuckled, as the child in front of you pouts and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Stop dozing off like that! I was really worried when you started to cry in your sleep again!" Takeo exclaims out, puffing out his cheeks as he stomped on his foot in annoyance.

You laughed at his antics, your melodic voice echoing across the peaceful lake. You leaned forward and raised a hand to gently pat your son's head. The boy looked almost the same as you, seeing as he inherited your complexion, your facial features, and even your [H / C] hair.

There was one thing, though, that distinguished him from looking like a complete carbon copy of you.

He had Crimson colored eyes that he inherited from his father.

Takeo continues to huff out in annoyance, but he couldn't fight the flush rising up to his face from your act of affection towards him. Whether he was going to deny it or not, it was an irrefutable fact that he loved getting his head pats. As you observed Takeo's features, you felt warmth and tenderness embracing your chest. You pulled your hand away from his head and just chuckled at his failed attempts of trying to look angry at you.

"Papa asked me to fetch you, ya know.." Takeo mumbles, his Crimson-orbs looking away from you in embarrassment. "He says that Aunt Nezuko and Uncle Zenitsu are coming over today, along with Uncle Inosuke and Aunt Kanao. He figured that you would be glad to see them again."

"I see." You whispered. Your mouth slowly into a grin, and you nodded gratefully. You felt excitement and joy bubble up in you, as you beamed brightly to your son. "Thank you, Takeo. I'm absolutely delighted to hear that they're coming to visit today."

Slowly, you stood up from the bench, one hand holding on your son's arm for support and the other caressing your swollen belly. You looked up to the heavens, eyes sparkling with gratitude as a thankful sigh escaped from your lips. You shifted your attention away from the blue sky, and softly held your son's hand as you began your way back home.

"Let's go home, shall we?"

Once upon a dream, you never thought the possibility of true love coming to you all your life.

Growing up in a demon infested world, life seemed to be fond of throwing you into hardships and struggle. Despite the horrors of the world, you always persevered. For every challenge that has been hurled towards you, the tribulations have only made you grow stronger and better.

Your life may had started out roughly, but that doesn't mean that it did not change for the better. The endless bloodshed had become relics of the past, moments of time that helped shape the world as it is now.

Recalling those moments of uncertainty, the rays of sunlight peeking through what was once the dark and gloomy clouds had now completely engulfed your life with warmth and tenderness. What you once wanted to experience all those years ago, has now become your reality. The little bits of happiness that you yearned for, now held onto you, never wanting to leave any time soon.

As you get closer to your home, you could hear the voices of children laughing and playing. Soon, you saw a glimpse of your humble abode, and little kids that looked similarly to you and your husband came into view. Takeo releases his hold on you, and he excitedly makes his way towards his siblings. Your expression brightened, a permanent smile present on your face as you took in the sight of your children frolicking around with happiness evident in their faces.

Then, a warm hand snakes over your waist, pulling you towards a broad chest that belonged to your lover. You couldn't contain your giggles as your face was immediately assaulted by small pecks and kisses. His hanafuda earrings seemed to ring each time he moved his head, his long ponytail swaying alongside with the cool breeze. His crimson-eyes gleamed in adoration as he gazes into your own, an adorable grin affixed in his lips as he continued to lock you in his protective embrace.

Sakura petals flew all around, encasing your surroundings with a sense of peace and serenity. After years of struggle, you can finally wake up in the morning without the likelihood of a horrible and painful death looming over you, as your cruel and dark world was now behind you.

Those dark days were long over. Now that you had finally avenged your family and the numerous deaths Muzan Kibutsuji has inflicted upon humanity, you could finally spend the rest of your life in peace.

Now, you had finally found a place to call your home. With him, you had created a whole new world. A world that was overflowing with love and happiness. Now that he would always stay by your side, you won't have to be lost anymore.

Tanjiro lifts up a hand to softly caress your cheek, gazing at you with so much love and adoration. The corners of his mouth quirked up as he fluttered his eyes close and slowly leaned forward. Your expression softened, and you chuckled softly as you put your arms around his shoulders. Your eyelids close shut as you felt your chest swell up with so much emotion, as his lips finally captured yours into a love-filled kiss.

"You are the whole world to me, [ Y / N]."

( a/n: thank you, thank you, thank you so much for following “my world”! it means so much to me that some of you had taken a liking on this series :’D im sorry if there were mistakes and ooc-ness along the way;;;

thank you for reading, and stay safe! you all mean the whole world to me <3)

#tanjiro x reader #tanjirou x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjirou kamado x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer imagines #tanjiro kamado #tanjirou kamado #kamado tanjiro #kamado tanjirou #kny #kimetsu no yaiba tanjirou #reader insert #kimetsu no yaiba imagines

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otvlanga · 3 years

Note

Hey op, DO YOU GET TO THE CLOUD DISTRICT VERY OFTEN?? (Oh, what am I saying? Of course you don’t~)

How dare u nazeem, now i’m having Jarl Ballin send the guards to fetch me your wife in her tiniest loincloth.

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Chamomiles, Chrysanthemums, and Everything In Between [Gigi x Nicky] - ChaosKatya

summary: In which Gigi’s a florist, and she’d like to think she usually has a pretty good head on her shoulders. That is until a new tattoo artist starts shifts in the studio opposite and well, now Gigi’s not quite sure what’s going on with herself anymore. Everyone else seems to know, but Gigi sure doesn’t.

a/n: first full chapter ive ever posted! again, let me know what you think @chaoskatya <3

“Gigi… Earth to Miss Goode? Gigi. GIGI!”

Jaida claps loud, startling Gigi from her trance. Bolting up from where she was leaning on the counter, she turns so quickly to face her coworker she nearly knocks her iced coffee flying. She stumbles for it, saving it from tipping over, smiling sweet like nothing happened.

“Yes, Miss Hall?”

Jaida laughs softly. “Do not Miss Hall me. Girl I was talking to you for a hot minute before I realized no one was home up in that pretty head of yours.”

“Rude. I was nodding and everything?”

“Uh huh. And what was I talking about?” Jaida props her hand on her hip, waiting for an answer.

Gigi wracks her brain, and comes up empty. She at least tries to smile to make up for it. “Uhh, the schedule for the succulent shipment arriving tomorrow?”

Jaida laughs, loud and brief. “Ha! Nice try. Wrong.” She swipes for Gigi’s drink, taking a hearty sip to cement her new ownership.

“Hey–!” Gigi tries to protest, attempting to grab for it but Jaida just holds up a perfectly manicured nail at her.

“Nu uh. You don’t deserve this. ‘Sides, it was totally half melted from how long you were spacing out there. What’s on your mind, girl?”

“Nothing! I’m just. Distracted, that’s all,” Gigi sighs, and can’t help but flicker her eyes out towards Wallflower’s storefront.

Jaida doesn’t miss it. She follows Gigi’s eyes out the window, and raises her eyebrows in understanding. “Mmhm… I’m sure you are,” she smirks and walks away, sipping Gigi’s coffee loudly for punctuation, “Make sure you finish your orders for pickup today before you chase your french fantasy, ma cheri.”

Gigi opens her mouth to argue, then just makes a frustrated noise in defeat. Jaida’s not wrong, she just hates how obvious it’s become. It’s been getting worse, now only 10 am and her head’s already in the clouds and she has yet to actually start working on any of the arrangements she’d meant to have started almost an hour ago. Tying her long hair out of her eyes, she stands at her work station for a good while, staring at the order forms handed to her this morning. All small individual orders, mostly early Valentine’s arrangements for folks looking to beat the inevitable price hike or gifting early to work around prior plans, or some highschoolers probably asking people out to prom since the season’s coming up. Relatively simple and easy for Gigi’s skill, but she still can’t get herself to focus. When nothing comes to her, probably from the lack of coffee, she decides not to linger and gets up to check on the displays.

She goes over a checklist in her head for things she could do that’s still considered productive but isn’t at her actual arrangement station. She checks soil moisture in the succulents, watering the drier ones, prunes some of their smaller flowering shrubs that are getting a little bushy, and double checks the temperatures on the floral coolers.

She’s wiping down the leaves on a large monstera in the houseplant section when she smacks herself on the forehead, realizing she’s subconsciously navigated herself towards the front of the store and is now conveniently right beside the front window. Still, she can’t help herself, and tries to peer across the pedestrian street in hopes that at least seeing her today will temporarily get her out of her system.

It’s been a week since Harmonize, the tattoo studio across Wallflower, had filled in their vacancy and signed on their newest artist. The two stores are fairly friendly, when Gigi was hired over a year ago the owner Widow had brought over fresh baked bread to introduce herself, and it was one of their artists Crystal whom Gigi chose to ink the small piece on her rib. In fact, the two grew pretty close and she’s hung out with Crystal as many times as she’s hung out with Jaida who’s her actual coworker, the three of them often grabbing lunch or a drink together if time permits. It was her understanding that even before Gigi had joined the team, all the stores on their little promenade area were relatively familiar with each other. It was a small shopping district, all pedestrian walkways and local establishments, not fairly common anymore with the rise of larger malls. This meant the stores often knew and supported each other for solidarity, and that it wasn’t odd for people from other stores to pop in and introduce themselves.

That being said, it’s been a week since the new girl had started shifts and Gigi still hasn’t worked up the courage to talk to her. She’s only caught glimpses of her, either walking out with Crystal after locking up or stepping out in the middle of the day for a smoke break. Gigi knew of them needing a replacement after Dahlia had moved coasts, but she remembers how when actually seeing her in person for the first time her breath completely hitched in her throat and she had to run to the break room to hide for a bit.

Luckily for Gigi, unluckily for her work still left unattended, the walkways meant not a considerable distance between the two storefronts and she’s immediately able to catch a glimpse of the mystery girl inside leaning against the front desk. She can visibly see her short, slicked back platinum hair looking as pristine as always, and today she’s got on a red lip that looks so, so good. She barely knows anything about her, doesn’t even know her name, but by god would it be a lie to say she isn’t pretty enamoured.

Crystal’s obviously her coworker, but no amount of pleading texts will yield her any information. Jaida’s spoken to her already on her own but also refuses to tell Gigi anything, apparently because she thinks Gigi’s refusal to go alone is funny, other than that she’s French and hotter up close and that her accent was “delicious” which was incredibly not helpful. Gigi contemplates how this accent might sound when instead it’s her boss’s voice that suddenly appears next to her.

“She is pretty hot. I think I have a crush on her too.” Jackie says plainly into Gigi’s ear.

Gigi yelps and jumps again for the second time this morning, this time a lot more embarrassed thanks to being caught by her boss not only clearly slacking off but openly staring at the store opposite. And that she can’t even cover up Jackie knowing exactly why she was staring.

Jackie just laughs good naturedly and shoves an iced coffee into Gigi’s hands, holding another two against her chest.

“I was on the way when Jaida texted me saying she drank yours and to pick you up another one, so I got some for all of us. Something about you needing the caffeine, and I can see why,” she looks out the window to Harmonize, then back at Gigi, “finish those orders first, yeah?” She smiles knowingly at the younger girl, then heads to the back room where Jaida is probably counting stock.

Jesus christ, she was too preoccupied with her own thoughts she didn’t even hear Jackie come in. Their door has a fucking bell and she was standing right beside the front window. Well, nothing like a mountain of work and some fresh iced coffee to shake off a morning of embarrassment.

All things considered, Gigi loves her job. It’s something sacred to her, something guaranteed to ground her, soothing her senses and pulling her into a focused zone like nothing else. She loves the feeling of stems in her hands, watching an empty vase or paper wrap build into a living work of art that tells a story. She was never that big on plants as a whole, Jaida and Jackie tend to cover the succulent houseplant and herb territory better than she ever could, but she’s always had a soft spot for the flowers. She’s built up her craft and made a niche for herself in Wallflower very quickly, there’s nothing more enticing to her than mixing and matching colors, textures, shapes and sizes until her perfectionist ass is satisfied with the outcome. She always jokes that none of her work comes out short of instagram perfect, well worth more than just their price. She’s even taken to studying up on old flower meanings in her spare time, and while she thought they were silly at first she did grow a little attached to the convolutedness and intricacy that goes into working meanings into her arrangements.

She’s got a couple of standard bouquets up first- Wallflower provides a ‘cheat sheet’ of pre-determined arrangements for customers not particularly picky or familiar with what goes into their bouquets. She holds a sunflower in the center of the vase to build upon, surrounding it with a smattering of simple pink and red roses. She fills the shape with baby’s breath and green heather for texture, before filling whatever gaps are left with myrtle sprigs for more greenery.

She goes over the meanings in her head while she ties off and trims the stems and decoratively wraps the arrangement in delicate, pink paper and clear cellophane- adoration, happiness, love, innocence, admiration, love. It’s incredible to her how many flowers basically mean the same thing, but she supposes it’s hard to offer something as beautiful as a flower and not convey some form of affection.

She’s a couple of arrangements in before her phone buzzes in her back pocket, pulling her out of her groove. She wipes her hands down her apron and pulls it out to see a groupchat message from Crystal.

Clown Whore 🤡👅 just got off a client but LMFAO totally saw u staring @ N u aint slick @Gigi Goode

Gigi can’t help but widen her eyes a little and type her reply back a little frantic.

Goode, Gooder, Goodenest Gracious! 🌼 her name starts with N????? Nina? Natalie? Naomi? is Naomi french enough to count as a valid guess?

Clown Whore 🤡👅 LOL u know we aint tellin u its been a week. JUST TALK TO HER U DUMB ASS LESBIAN

Goode, Gooder, Goodenest Gracious! 🌼 :( ya’ll are mean. why are you my friends. Michelle’s for lunch? @Jaida @Crystal

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 lol im down

Clown Whore 🤡👅 breaks in 30. come to yall then :))

Gigi takes note of the time and puts her phone down sighing. She loves her friends with all her heart, but they’re also assholes whose favorite hobby is bullying poor Gigi especially when it comes to Gigi’s ability, or lack thereof, to deal with cute girls. Still, she wouldn’t trade the world for them (not that she would ever say that to their faces, she has some pride).

She continues her arrangements, hitting a snag on a particular one that for some reason requested a fairly large centerpiece, “all whites, minimal greenery- romantic but no roses” but at the same time “nothing too funeral-y or wedding-y”. She’s built and torn apart the arrangement around 6 times and is close to ripping her hair out when Jaida materializes in front of her station.

“You good, sis?” she laughs, picking up the order slip to examine herself.

Gigi looks around and realizes her station looks a hot mess, whites and greens strewn haphazardly everywhere. “Yes, you’re looking at my personal funeral. We good to go?”

“Yeah, ‘bout that. Crys texted that she’s gonna take a smoke for a bit and I’m gonna join her, is it alright if you go ahead? We’ll catch up, it’s all on me” Jaida says cheerily, handing Gigi her card.

Gigi raises her eyebrows in suspicion, idly wondering why Crystal didn’t just message their chat, but takes the card anyway. She’s not passing up free lunch. “Sure, the usual for everyone?”

“Yep, see ya in a bit, girl!” Jaida waves brightly, already on her way out the door.

Weird. But Gigi doesn’t think much of it.

The walk over to Michelle’s is short and uneventful, only being about 2 blocks away, but the small local joint is by far their favorite go-to. It’s arguably a diner, complete with the red leather booths and black and white tiled flooring to match, but it’s become a local staple in the district for being so much more than just a diner. They’ve got a wide variety of comfort foods of all types, plus it’s got halal options for Jackie and vegetarian ones for Crystal. Gigi walks in to the sound of the bell above the push glass door and is immediately greeted by not only the rich smells from the kitchen, but the owner Michelle at the counter. A matronly figure with a heart of gold, she’s made sure to know all of the district regulars by name and face and the girls at Harmonize and Wallflower are no exception. It’s a little past lunch rush, lots of people sitting at the booths and the counter but no one in line.

She greets Gigi as she enters and Gigi’s listing off the usuals for everyone, takeout for Widow and Jackie, when a husky voice pipes up from behind her.

“Oh, actually, Jaida said takeout for everyone. And an additional ceaser, s'il vous plaît.”

Gigi whips around, heart leaping out of her chest, and finds N smiling right behind her. Gigi stammers a bit, definitely fumbling for something to say, and tries her best to get her bearings. “Ohmigod, hi! Shit, hi! Gigi, from Wallflower,” she says quickly, nerves evident, “I haven’t met you yet! Oh my god, you’re N-?”

The blonde just laughs politely to cut her off, perhaps to save her from her fumbling. “Nicolette, but please call me Nicky. Crystal sent me over, says her and Jaida can’t make it and to bring everything back?” Nicky smiles wide, and her smile makes Gigi think her heart is stopping a little too many times today.

Gigi crumples a little in realization. Of course Jaida would offer to pay for everything, she wouldn’t bother unless it came alongside personally torturing Gigi for fun. Well, nevertheless, it’s not like Jaida can avoid payback. Gigi asks Michelle to upsize everyone’s drinks but Jaida and Crystal’s and adds an extra side of ice cream to her own. Michelle swipes Jaida’s card, hands Gigi her small cup of ice cream, then lets them know to sit at a booth while they fix up everyone’s orders.

Nicky and Gigi sit at the booth nearest the door, and Gigi’s glad for the cup of ice cream to keep her busy because her brain’s running in circles trying to think of something to say while also subtly trying to finally get a good look at her. As Nicky settles into the seat opposite, turning to lay her purse next to her, Gigi can’t help but eye some design on her arms before it’s covered once more by the long sleeves of her blouse. Her platinum blonde hair’s slicked back into a short length, now she realizes it goes a little past her chin, and her makeup is impeccable, sharp smokey eyes and red lips. She’s even more gorgeous up close, and it does absolutely nothing to settle Gigi’s nerves. Gigi’s hands fidget with her small plastic spoon, and she’s hyper aware of how she’s now looking anywhere but the girl sitting across her. Thankfully, Nicky leads the conversation.

“I am sorry it’s taken us so long to meet, I have been having a little bit of a hard time putting myself out there” she says with a drop to her voice, and Gigi instantly feels guilty.

“No, no it’s my fault! I should’ve gone over, I had the chance I’m just,” Gigi breathes when she realizes she’s sped up again, and Nicky’s looking right at her earnestly, “-pretty bad at meeting new people.” She drops Nicky’s gaze and rubs the back of her neck, staring directly down into her ice cream. She realizes she’s coming on very weirdly, and she feels very hot all of a sudden. Stupid Crystal, stupid Jaida, this is exactly why she can’t be trusted alone with a pretty girl. Either Nicky doesn’t realize or realize exactly, either way Gigi’s glad she doesn’t bring up how awkward Gigi’s acting.

“Well, no matter,” she interrupts Gigi’s thoughts with a smile, “I’m glad to have met you now. I heard you were the one who had done the arrangement Jackie brought me on my first day, thank you, it was quite beautiful.”

Gigi softens. “Oh, it was my pleasure! Again, I’m really sorry I hadn’t come along to meet you sooner.”

Nicky waves her off, “Please, stop apologizing, it’s alright, we were both busy. Let’s move forward now, yeah?” She smiles brightly again, and it eases Gigi’s heart in a way she could not explain, nor does she want to confront any time soon. But for now, this is nice.

Gigi smiles back and opens her mouth to respond, when Nicky’s phone suddenly rings from her purse. Nicky quickly swipes it out to check the screen.

“Oh, one moment, it’s a client, I’m so sorry” she says, standing up and stepping out of the booth. Gigi tells her no worries as Nicky steps out of the diner to take the call.

Gigi uses this opportunity to breathe, at the same time finishing her melting ice cream and checking her own phone. She’s got a string of messages, all from the culprits.

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 LOL

Clown Whore 🤡👅 GO GIGI!!!!!!

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 USE YOUR WORDS BOO ure killin it!!!

Clown Whore 🤡👅 what did we say about the accent? :))) plus isnt she so nice shes a whole ass sweetheart

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 omg ice cream u bitch k we deserve it

Clown Whore 🤡👅 oooo yall look like youre on a date already :))

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 wtf who callin? she got a man?

Goode, Gooder, Goodenest Gracious! 🌼 YO WTF FUCK YALL WHAT WAS THAT :((( WARN ME, ASSHOLES? I WASNT READY also are you here?? how do you know???

Clown Whore 🤡👅 michelle’s texting us LMAO

Gigi whips her head up to see Michelle at the counter across the diner, phone in hand, typing away. She meets Gigi’s eyes and sends her a wink, laughing mirthfully.

Goode, Gooder, Goodenest Gracious! 🌼 is my whole life snitches and traitors???

Clown Whore 🤡👅 💖💖

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 💛💛💛💛

At this point Michelle comes around to the table and carefully sets down the stacks of takeout containers bundled in two plastic bags, but not without patting Gigi on the back and whispering you got this darling. Gigi just groans in exasperation.

Clearly, everyone has it out for her in this life. But she decides that hey, maybe that’s not so bad. They’re her friends and her friends care and they bully her a little but that’s what friends are for. Care enough to call her out on her stupidity and force her to act. What exactly she’s acting on, she’s not quite sure, but things are certainly happening. And she’s finally met Nicky, who is intimidatingly gorgeous but also kind and nice and she’s happy for that. Sure, she’s extremely attractive, but part of her doesn’t even remember why she was so afraid to talk to her in the first place when her presence now seems to both scare and ease Gigi in a way she really can’t name. And while she may not really understand all that she’s feeling maybe, just maybe, that’s okay too.

Nicky steps back into the diner and turns back to Gigi, eyes bright and smile wide.

“Let’s get back to the shops?” she says cheerily, and sticks out her hand for Gigi to hold.

Gigi takes a deep breath, smiles, and takes it. “Yes, let’s.”

#rpdr fanfiction #gigi goode #nicky doll #gigi x nicky #lesbian au #tattoo artist x florist #cceib series #chaoskatya #s12

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queenofeden · 4 years

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my contributions to @lovelikeyoursfest for the first prompt, ��the start of something new”. these are technically both excerpts from longer in-progress fics featuring my apprentice, laurel, but they happened to fit the theme so well i thought at least part of them deserved to see the light of day. consider this a teaser for my future works if u find urself interested~

chronologically, nadia comes first, julian can be found under the cut

Nadia & Laurel

January, 5 years ago

The whole of Vesuvia thrums with the energy of the masquerade, like one large body set to motion at last after a long winter. The lights, the reeling crowds, they pulse and pump as they make their way along the arterial canals, upwards, always upwards, to the highest reach of the city -- to the beating heart of it all -- the palace. Laurel catches Asra’s hand in her own, dragging him along, or he her, or perhaps they simply get swept away together by the throng, laughter bubbling on her lips for what feels like the first time in months.

Try as one might, it is easy to get separated once the party truly takes hold of the palace. The hoi polloi of Vesuvia clamor towards the offered food and drink, while the elite swan about and entertain themselves with chatter and gossip. It is not with intent that she loses track of Asra somewhere past the room full of enchanted, talking statuary. One moment he is there, and the next he is not, the space he once occupied at her side now taken up by three bustling women in matching silver gowns and masks done up like swans, all vying for entry into the room. It matters little to Laurel. Asra will find her eventually, when he cares to be found himself. He always does, somehow, whether she cares for him to or not.

There is little intent to where she wanders, keen to let herself be drawn wherever the whims of the party may take her. She knows there is something surrounding her -- a pall of grief, though it seems too melodramatic a sentiment. It is a palpable, invisible thing about her nonetheless. People walk around her, unsure of why, rowdy drunkards don't dare to jostle or bump her. Her own personal never-mind-me spell, cast without intent simply by virtue of existing. Their disinterest rankles, but she shoves the ill-feeling down deep. It's not them she's here for, anyway. A tall glass of fizzing wine makes its way into her hand, plucked deftly from a passing servant’s platter, and she carries it along in her gloved hand, sipping occasionally, leaving a smear of bright red along the rim of the glass from her painted lips.

The heavy press of the party lessens as she finds herself on the veranda, the roar in her ears fading, carried away on the cool evening breeze. It chills her overheated skin, bare beneath only a few thin layers of chiffon and satin, and she relishes the prickle of gooseflesh it leaves in its wake like a kiss. She takes her glass and drains the last of the golden wine too quickly, and trades it for another -- something pink and dangerously sugared this time. This too she finishes in a few deep gulps, setting the empty glass back onto the bemused servant's tray and taking another before they have time to even move away. Alone, save for the alcohol that burns in her too empty stomach, she wanders the less crowded gardens, full of others who have little interest in being found. She hums along to a familiar tune as she passes through a faint cloud of sound, drifting over the tops of the immaculately trimmed hedge walls.

She feels sweet with wine and song, the lightest she has felt all year. Here, the sounds and smells, the anonymous, whirling multitude of bodies-- they keep out what Laurel would rather forget. Here there is no responsibility, no pitying glances from familiar patrons, none of Asra's well-intentioned saccharine condolences. No one knows her here, not behind the gilt painted mask. She is hardly herself, if she wants not to be, and oh how desperately she craves the chance to not be herself, if only for just a little while. That is the true magic of the Count’s masquerade, something far more powerful than what she could throw together in a mortar at home and call such. She is only the swell of the music. It lifts her slippered feet, carrying her in some semblance of dance as she walks the cobbled path, eyes closed in what would feel almost like joy, if she could remember the feeling.

There is no one on the path with her, no one to see her dizzy, stumbling attempt at a coranto, so when her body meets something else -- someone else, the slide of a silk gown against her bare arms -- her eyes snap open, and she stumbles backward with an embarrassed curse.

"Shit! Sorry, so sorry."

Laurel lifts her gaze, expecting to see the heated glare of whomever she'd been unlucky enough to plow into. What she does not expect is the countess -- The Countess -- blinking back at her with equal amounts of surprise.

With a choked sort of squeak, Laurel drops immediately into her best, lowest curtsy, knees creaking and head bowed so low her mask threatens to slip straight off her nose.

"O-oh, My Lady Countess, forgive me! Please forgive me!"

Her heart hammers in her chest. The Countess! Of all people to drunkenly stumble into! The count would likely have her head for daring lay a hand, however accidental, on his beloved wife. Or perhaps the countess herself would ask him to cut off her wicked, clumsy feet instead as a mercy.

Less likely was the countess's voice -- rich and deep and rolling over her like sweet molasses -- saying softly, "It’s quite alright. Please stand."

Laurel blinks, straightening her spine in fractions, giving ample time should the countess deign to change her mind and command her to sprawl, prostrate in the dirt, at her feet instead. She doesn't. Eventually, Laurel is able to lift her chin and look the -- only slightly -- taller woman in the eye for the first time.

She had known the countess was beautiful, much in the way that people knew the sky was blue, the grass grew green, and the south was a frigid waste, an immutable fact. People spoke often of her features in the market, lauding the beauty of her violet hair, her striking, crimson eyes, her high, royal brow. More so, she knew it to be true by the simple truth that vain Count Lucio would never settle for less. What few memories she has -- a parade, swirling streamers in the air; the profile of a distant woman, nestled like an idol on a float of white roses and purple hyacinth -- are clouded by time and distance. She had pieced her together that first year, vague impressions and gossip and distant glances in the town square where she deigned to appear. Vesuvia's very own princess had crossed her mind very little after that.

This close, close enough to smell her sweet jasmine of her perfume, to count the faint few freckles on her bare shoulders, Countess Nadia is more lovely than Laurel could have ever imagined.

Laurel's gaping leaves her uncharacteristically silent, but the countess seems to recover first. Likely she's used to filling stunned silence.

"How is that you found me here?" she asks, a faint tinge of pink across her nose, though whether it is from embarrassment or anger Laurel cannot gauge.

Laurel glances around, taking in the tall topiaries that surround them. “I-- where is here, exactly?”

Julian & Laurel

Late September, 5 years ago

The first time she arrives at his clinic, Julian doesn’t yet know that he should turn the woman he would come to know as Laurel Lobban away. She comes to his clinic like most regular patients, in a hurried flurry of skirts, eyes bright — not red, thankfully, the sclera a clear, healthy white with irises of sky blue — sharp with an edge of desperation. Perhaps a family member was sick, a spouse, or sister. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had dragged him from his clinic in the misty, early hours of pre-dawn with their pleas.

He lets the woman in — his first mistake — and leads her to the small table in the corner where he offers her a perfunctory cup of poorly brewed coffee or tea, though she doesn’t look to be in any particular need of it. There is a tension to her body, ratcheted tight as a halyard line. If plucked she might sing, high and sweet like the E string of his vielle, but that could also be his third cup of coffee before sunrise talking. From over her nose and mouth, she pulls down her paisley patterned scarf to reveal full but drawn lips, chewed raw and near bleeding. She stretches and bunches the fabric in her hands, twisting it into knots.

“You’re the doctor, then, yes?” she asks, squinting up at him. “Doctor Devorak? The one everyone talks about?”

A grin, black and bitter as the lingering taste of coffee in his throat, spreads his lips thin at that. “Well, now, that depends. What do the people say?”

The woman watches him, eyes canny as a hawk, flitting between his features, sizing him up. “They say you help people, that you don’t overcharge like the hacks in the heart district do.” She sniffs with derision then, nose crinkling up, though whether at the thought of his colleagues uptown or the smell of something in the room, he cannot tell. Astringent probably, he had just cleaned his tools for the day. Often he forgets how strong the smell can be to those far less nose blind than he. She coughs delicately, like she’s trying to suppress a gag. “They say you’re a good man.”

Ah, well, hm. Julian can’t say he’s heard that one before. ‘Foul, beaked harbinger of misery’ yes, ‘heartless bastard’ sure, ‘utter fool’ sometimes, but good man? Compliments were not something many of his patients or their families had on their minds once he was around. Her words settle like a heavy stone in his near empty stomach. This close, with her looking at him just so, her eyes are less so the color of summer. Darker, near navy, paling into a grey to match his own with a flash of almost-barely-there yellow at the center, like a brewing sky at sea -- one set to storm and tear him to pieces any moment, the look of them setting his sailor’s intuition on edge. He ignores them, words and eyes both.

“And are you in need of my help then?” he asks, stepping away to rifle through his curio cabinet, stuffed to bursting with jars of tinctures and salves. “You don’t look beplagued, perhaps some other malady? Allergies? A fungus?”

A loud, nearly surprised, scoff. “I don’t have a fungus,” she asserts with umbrage.

He feels his cheeks heat, grateful that his head is buried in the cabinet and not on view of her no doubt scrutinizing gaze. “Of course not, of course not, so sorry. I didn’t intend any offense miss-- ah, I don’t believe I got your name?”

“Laurel, Laurel Lobban.”

She’s right behind him again. He jumps, knocking the shelves with a wayward elbow as he turns. Her hand is held out to shake, and he takes it with mild surprise. Her grip is firm, no nonsense, but she squeezes a little too hard just before she lets go in a way that lets him know how intentional, how controlled those reads he took of her were. He would see nothing of her that she didn’t want him to, that much he could tell.

“Laurel Lobban,” he repeats, rolling the matching consonants on his tongue. “Laurel, laurus nobilis, lauraceae, like the plant,” he rambles, finishing rather dumbly. She snorts.

“Yes... like the plant. Are you all right, doctor?”

Was he all right? Maybe that third coffee had been a bad idea. “Fine, fine. Though I would be more fine if I knew what I could help you with, Miss Lobban. Hard to diagnose if I don’t know what ails you.”

“I don’t — ” she sighs, frustration warring across her features. “I’m not sick. I’m not here for some tincture. I — I want to work with you.”

He laughs. It was the wrong thing to do, by the telling darkening of her expression, the subtle shift in her jaw as she clearly clenches her teeth. He can’t help it though. It trails off, nervously, his stance shifting from one leg to the other. Whatever you do next, proceed with caution, Ilya.

“Work? Work here?” Nailed it.

“Do you work elsewhere?”

“I — no. This is it,” he replies, gesturing weakly at the single, cramped room, with it’s tiny storage closet and its rickety loft where he keeps his private office which is little more than a second closet. Why would anyone want to work here? With him?

“Then yes, here. With you.”

That he didn’t like.

“And do you ah — do you have any medical expertise then?”

She frowns. There’s a knot of lines between her brows that would be cute, almost endearing, in any other situation than this. Her cheeks flush pink. “Well, no. I mean I’ve read a few books, but… I had hoped you would take me on as an apprentice.”

His mouth falls open, spluttering. He weaves around her so that he’s no longer pinned, like a bug to a board, between her expectant gaze and the cabinet. “Unfortunately Miss Lobban, I’m not equipped to take on apprentices at this time. You see, I’m — well, the fact of the matter is — ”

Stop it. Stop talking.

“There are plenty of other doctors who would take you on, I’m certain.” Who? It doesn’t matter. Doctors who aren’t me. Why would anyone want to learn from a failure who couldn’t even cure his patients, anyway? What could he possibly have to offer an apprentice?

“I don’t want those doctors. They say you’re the best in the city, I want to work with the best.”

The best. Julian bites back another fit of laughter. Grinning — baring his teeth really — instead. “Now now, flattery won’t change my mind.”

She’s followed him again, standing as close behind him as she dares while he flits about the room, restless with nervous energy.

“If I was flattering you, doctor, you would know.”

Had he been this insistent when he’d come to Nazali the first time? Almost certainly, if the stories he’d heard oft repeated are true. How had they put up with him, and not thrown him out on his ear? The simple answer is that they are a much better doctor, a better person, than he. Nazali had discovered the plague, had made the greatest strides in its classification, its treatment, yet. And what had he done with their teachings? Squandered it all. Sat by and watched as patient after patient came to him for help, had plied them with false comforts, and in the end had done nothing, save for ease them into their inevitable deaths. He should tell her that. Should count out his many failures for her like he does for himself every night in place of sheep. Certainly that would frighten her away.

What he says instead is this: “Have you ever watched someone die?”

Her mouth goes slack, obviously taken aback by his question. For a moment he sees the fear flash across her eyes, but quick as it came it's replaced by something else. Something harder. She licks her lips and smiles, lips wobbling at the edges. "Do you ask all the girls that, or am I just special?"

He keeps his gaze hard, until the slight upturn of her lips collapses into a frown.

“Surely that can’t be a prerequisite for the job.”

“On the contrary,” Julian replies, nerves solidifying. “Humor me.”

Laurel’s eyes slide sideways. “No,” she says carefully, chewing over her words. “Though death and I are no strangers.”

Julian takes a deep breath, a brief flare of pain in his chest for having been the cause of the dark shadows that crossed over her features at that admission. He rakes a hand through his curls, shoving them away from his face, where they stay for a moment, before flopping back into his eyes.

“So you have lost someone?” he asks, though it is less question and more statement of fact.

Her gaze flicks back to him, sharp and pointed as the tip of a blade. “Hasn’t everyone in Vesuvia by now?” she asks him cooly.

Julian at least has the grace to look chagrined, feeling the heat of one of his telltale flushes burning under his collar. “I suppose you have a point there.”

“I don’t relish the thought of death, Doctor Devorak, if that’s your concern.” Laurel grips the strap of her bag tightly, staring up at him, imploring. “And I’ve no agenda, I assure you. I simply want to find some way to help.”

It is that moment that the door of the clinic swings open, the sharp RANG-CLANG-CLANG of the bell startling the both of them. A barrel-chested man heaves in the doorway, face shining, slick with sweat as he gasps, hands on his knees.

“Doctor! Doctor please, my husband he — “

Immediately, something shifts in Julian. One moment he is himself, good old Ilya Devorak. The next he is simply Doctor, parts within himself shuttering closed as others open, the whole of him changing as instinct takes over, just as it had every instant before a battle when the quiet set in and he and Nazali knew the first wave of bodies would soon hit; the calm before the storm, captured entirely within himself like a model ship trapped in a bottle.

“On it!” he barks, grabbing his overcoat and mask from their hooks with practiced ease, already making long strides towards the door before Laurel’s voice cuts through the quiet roar of his thoughts.

“Doctor please!” she all but hisses, chasing after him with stubborn steps. “I need — let me do something, anything!”

With a sigh, Julian reaches out and fixes the scarf about her neck back over her nose and mouth before placing his own mask over his face. Safe behind red glass, he cannot see the piercing blue of her eyes anymore, no longer at risk of being swept away by the violent current of her.

He takes her by the arm, and gently but firmly leads her to the door, past the panicked man who dumbly, silently, follows them out onto the street at Julian’s other hand. The rosy tendrils of pre-dawn light are barely making their way across the sky, the cobbles beneath their feet still heavy with morning fog yet to be burned away by the heat of the day. With a deft flick of his wrist, Julian switches the crude sign on the door front from ‘IN’ to ‘OUT’. When he turns back, Laurel still lingers under the halo of lantern light, hem of her skirts dancing around her ankles as she shifts anxiously from foot to foot.

“I — ”

“Go home, Miss Lobban,” he says, voice half muffled, mouth filling with the cloying scents of camphor and dried roses. “Truly, the best you can do for anyone is to not find yourself here again.”

With that Julian turns and follows the snuffling man where he leads, leaving Laurel behind him, disappearing into the pre-dawn gloom.

#lovelikeyours2020 #the arcana #my fic #apprentice laurel tag #nadia x apprentice #julian x apprentice

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pressurecooked · 4 years

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Do you get to the cloud district very often? Oh what am I saying, of course you don't.

✿ punches u.

#✿ || answered #anonymous

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bapwoo · 5 years

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Bold tag thingy

Rules: bold the statements that are true (italicize for somewhat true) and tag 15 people.

I was tagged by the bestest @dragonsfire !!! My drafts are still so full with all those tags, but I am still quite busy to get them all done. However, I got some time now and this tag is quite easy to make so *CRACKS KNUCKLES, NECK, LEGS, BACK, EYES* LET’S GO!!!

note: u pretty af, so I am lowkey upset you did not bold that you are pleased with how you look (if I remember it well >_>)

★ appearance ★

i’m over 5'5 / i wear glasses/contacts / i have blonde hair / i wear sweatshirts a lot / i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing / i have one or more piercings / i have at least one tattoo / I have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have gotten plastic surgery / i have or had braces / i sunburn easily / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don’t often smile / i am pleased with how i look / i prefer nike to adias / i wear baseball hats backwards

★ hobbies and talents ★

i play a sport / i can play an instrument / i am artistic / i know more than one language / i have won a trophy in some sort of competition / i can cook or bake without a recipe / i know how to swim / i enjoy writing / i can do origami / i prefer movies to TV shows / i can execute a perfect somersault / i enjoy singing / i could survive in the wild on my own / i have read a new book series this year / i enjoy spending time with friends / i travel during school or work breaks / i can do a handstand

★ relationships ★

i am in a relationship / i have been single for over a year / i have a crush / i have a best friend I have known for over ten years / my parents are together / i have dated my best friend / i am adopted / my crush has confessed to me / i have had a long-distance relationship / i am an only child / i give advice to my friends / i have made an online friend / i met up with someone I have met online

★ aesthetics ★

i have heard the ocean in a conch shell / i have watched the sun rise / i enjoy rainy days / i have slept under the stars / i meditate outside / the sound of chirping calms me / i enjoy the smell of the beach / i know what snow tastes like / i listen to music to fall asleep / i enjoy thunderstorms / i enjoy cloud watching / i have attended a bonfire / i pay close attention to colors / i find mystery in the ocean / i enjoy hiking on nature paths / autumn is my favorite season

★ miscellaneous ★

i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle / i am the mom friend / i live by a certain quote / i like the smell of sharpies / i am involved in extracurricular activities / i enjoy mexican food / i can drive stick-shift / i have memorized an entire song in a day / i believe in true love / I dream up scenarios to fall asleep / i sing in the shower / i wish i lived in a video game / i have a canopy above my bed / i am multi-racial / I AM A REDHEAD / i own at least three dogs / i am lgbtq+

To make some things clear, because I did not want to write into the text: I am half pleased with how I look; does gold medal from district elementary school basketball tournament counts??? lol; I practically always cook without a recipe but bake? I can’t do that; I do enjoy singing but I am so bad lol; and I travel but mostly not during breaks but literally during school lol; I know how to drive stick-shift bc it is normal here to have car with it... however, last time I drove was like 4 years ago lol; and I am dreaming up scenarios every day lol but it does not make me fall asleep aoiejgifvno

THANK YOU!!!!!! And for tag: @yangyangthegerman @choimomo @be-the-piano @kpoppie-kid @b-ace @luizycs @shineekeylover @unclejuho and anyone who wants do to it. ILU

#Why I always blabber so much in the tag games?#I am so bad aoehrgofin #sorry lol

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ihatemakingart · 6 years

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let’s not take four months this time, i said

it’ll be quick and easy if you just change the format, I said

(First Previous Tag AU blog tag[Everything together in reverse order])

WRITING UNDER THE CUT

Osomatsu turned the corner from the check-out area, the bright red of his hoodie grabbing his brothers’ attention. Choromatsu stood, and Todomatsu unraveled his arms from Jyushimatsu to do the same, and both moved to meet the eldest.

“Did they say anything else since mom went back?” Choromatsu asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Not really,” Osomatsu said quietly, “they're giving him a cane for a while, but they didn't really show him how to use it…”

“Osomatsu,” Matsuyo called, grabbing the eldest’s attention. He gave a scan over the others, particularly Jyushimatsu and Ichimatsu, before his eyes fell low and he backed away to return to their mother.

“You can go ahead and take his bracelet off if it bothers him,” the woman behind the desk noted. Osomatsu nodded, guiding Karamatsu away from the desk and pulling up his arm to figure out how to best get it off--these damn things were always a pain if you didn’t have scissors. Once he managed to stretch the tagged paper band enough, he worked it off his brother’s wrist and brought him the rest of the way to the door for the waiting area, looking to the rest of the sextuplets as they approached.

Todomatsu frowned some, scanning Karamatsu before stepping next to him. “What was it they said again? About what to do to try and see if it heals any?”

“They're giving him some medicine and eye drops to use for a week, then they want him to go to an optometrist or something,” Osomatsu tried to relay, loosening his grip on the second born’s arm as Todomatsu took the other one.

“A week? That doesn’t sound right…” Todomatsu frowned a bit. At the silence of the others, he huffed, “what? It’s not like an ER’s job is working with eyes.”

“I know, I don't buy it either,” Matsuyo huffed suddenly as she and Matsuzo stepped up behind them, her shuffling around her purse. “I'm going to call a cab and then the optometrist,” she said while taking out her phone, stepping outside to do so.

“Uh, oi, anybody want a drink? I saw some vending machines a little down the way,” Choromatsu piped up to offer. While their father and Totty merely shook their heads, Karamatsu’s head turned a bit, and Osomatsu was quick to perk up, along with Jyushimatsu; even Ichimatsu, looking off to the side in that always gloomy expression, raised his hand a little bit.

“Maybe tea, if you wouldn’t mind? But don’t feel like you have to,” Karamatsu said, starting out at a decent volume but quickly getting quieter and fidgeting with the cane.

“Aahh, do u think they have beer?” Osomatsu sighed, eliciting a glare from his brothers. “What? I’m kidding! Pepsi’s fine,” he said with a roll of his eyes, trying, and failing, to resist a grin as Choromatsu rolled his eyes as well, falling into step towards the vending.

“What else?”

“Eh…” Jyushimatsu lowered his eyes to think, until Ichimatsu started walking in the same direction as Choromatsu. Choromatsu watched him for a few moments, before picking back up after him. “Water’s fine!” Jyushimatsu called after him, earning a smile and nod from Choromatsu.

Once the two returned, they all decided to head outside instead of loitering around in the ER, since the season made it pleasant enough. Matsuyo was just outside of the metal canopy that stretched from over the front door, still fiddling with her phone.

The eldest sighed as he stepped out from under the awning, screwing the bottle top back on and forcing it into his hoodie pocket. “How’d the call go?” Osomatsu asked in a tone edging on a yawn, clasping his hands behind his head.

“They don't have any openings--no special exceptions allowed,” Matsuyo grumbled, fumbling around the device’s interface. “How do you do the thing where you find businesses online again? I keep pulling up some add about frosting.”

“Eh? They can’t be serious! He can barely see, can’t at all with the bandages--there has to be another place that’ll take him.” Osomatsu yapped, lowering his hands from his head.

“I’ll try to find some other places to call,” Matsuzo huffed, adjusting his suit jacket. It didn’t take much longer for a cab to pull up, which-after confirming it was the one Matsuyo had called for-Todomatsu wasted no time putting Karamatsu into the middle seat of. And, naturally, sitting down and buckling himself in as well before anyone else had a chance to protest.

“Oi, why does he get to take the cab? There’s nothing wrong with him!” Osomatsu squawked, earning a glare from their mother even Karamatsu could sense, and that made both the eldest shrink a little.

“Except for being a demon.” Ichimatsu said in an aside, hiding behind Jyushimatsu.

“It would be a waste for one of us not to come with when there’s a whole empty seat. Besides, who else is as helpful as me?” Todomatsu said in a sugar-saturated voice.

“What about the front?!” Osomatsu hissed, and Totty stuck his tongue out, causing Osomatsu to curl his hands into fists just as his youngest brother quickly shut the door. The car started off, and Osomatsu crossed his arms in a pout, ignoring Choromatsu shoving his shoulder in mildly amused reprimand before starting off with their father, the youngest two in tow.

After a kiddish whine, Osomatsu followed, his feet scraping the sidewalk as he slinked over it towards the house. It, at least, wasn’t a very long walk-thus taking Karamatsu there on foot in the first place-but halfway through, Osomatsu definitely couldn’t blame them for taking the cab. Not to mention how tense the atmosphere got as soon as they’d started walking; Osomatsu definitely felt envious of the cab ride.

When they slid open the front door, though, they all felt the relief flooding through their bodies at the smell of dinner cooking. Of course the other three had gotten home first; and Matsuyo would have no doubt started as soon as she could. Best medicine(after morphine and laughter) was a full stomach, after all.

Matsuzo slid the door to the family room open first, stepping in and deciding to linger as his eyes set on Karamatsu and Todomatsu sitting at the kotatsu, Todomatsu pausing mid-sentence and lowering his phone to look at them all as they filtered in. Karamatsu’s head turned to Totty, before swiveling a full 180 to pantomime facing the others. His face twitched to the sound of the other sextuplets’ movement as they went to the night's chosen spots, though he held back from the urge to turn around when Matsuzo greeted he and Todomatsu.

“Hey. Was the ride nice?” He hummed, trying not to be awkward. Todomatsu gave a cutesy grin and went back to his phone, and Karamatsu gave a silent nod.

“Did you manage to find anywhere with time available for an appointment?” Karamatsu asked, voice sounding nearly normal in a way that took Matsuzo off guard for a second.

“Right--somewhere a little more toward the edge of the district; they had an opening at two o’clock.” He nodded, stepping a bit closer as he spoke and eyeing the white cane that lay neatly between Kara and Totty.

“That's good; I hope it wasn't much trouble,” he said, turning back to the table.

“No, no don't worry about it,” Matsuzo said with a light, barely non-awkward pat of Karamatsu’s head. At Matsuyo’s voice calling out that the food was almost ready, the majority of the sextuplets leaped up and darted to the kitchen, leaving those who didn't practically in a dust cloud.

Matsuzo blinked slowly, before snorting and following suit. Karamatsu furrowed his brows, twisting his head automatically in an attempt to follow their movements but realizing, suddenly, it was a moot point. He sighed, turning his face back ahead of him and slouching a bit, beginning to reach for the cane when the door slid open again. He waited for a moment before the distinct clack of a bowl and glass being set against the kotatsu reached his ears.

“Hello?” Karamatsu tilted his head, and a hand softly drifted over his shoulder.

“You’d never get a scrap of it if I didn’t bring it to you myself; I'd still be careful if I were you,” Matsuyo chuckled.

“Ah, you didn’t have to-”

“Listen, NEET, this is the only time you’ll get off easy on being lazy! Don’t take it for granted,” she said jokingly, setting his hand on a pair of chopsticks,

rubbing his shoulder a bit before heading to her and Matsuzo’s table.

The others filed back in, making much less noise than they had in the kitchen; the usual peace after the storm of dinner time. They sat down and quickly got to eating and chattering, and Karamatsu sat quietly; the food was bound to still be quite hot.

Once his stomach started twisting with hunger, though, he was quick to cave, and slowly slide his hand towards the bowl. Or, well, where he thought it was supposed to be.

Todomatsu rolled his eyes in a manner that was almost audible in his breath, and grabbed Karamatsu’s hand and placed it on the bowl. Ichimatsu’s eyes narrowed-for what was probably the eighth time since they’d gotten home-and he scoffed.

“What, are you gonna spoon feed him now?” Ichimatsu grumbled with a sour expression, but it shrank when instead of backing him up or ignoring it like usual, the others stared at him with dazed expressions.

“Shut up, Ichimatsu-niisan,” Todomatsu growled, scooching closer to Karamatsu, but otherwise going back to his own food.

Dinner passed relatively usual, although there were many attempts to try and start a conversation or otherwise lighten the mood; mostly from the eldest two. Osomatsu had always hated tense atmosphere, and Karamatsu wasn’t much different in that regard--they were often the ones to go about doing this, but each attempt seemed to just tighten the lips of the rest.

Once they’d finished-which took a good while since anyone actually willing to eat did so slowly-and put things away, they went through their usual routine of sitting around the kotatsu, occasionally chatting or wandering off for a few hours.

“I think I’m going to get ready for bed,” Karamatsu said, scratching the back of his neck with a yawn.

“Ah, really? What do you need?” Choromatsu stiffened, blinking a bit as his eyes darted around without really looking at anything.

“For now I’ll just brush my teeth, so it’s alright. Thank you.”

Choromatsu furrowed his brows and leaned over the table a bit. “Are you sure?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Karamatsu asked with a twitch of his head, sounding genuinely offended. Choromatsu drew back a bit, and Karamatsu’s head turned further in following the now clear sound of his movement.

“Nothing, just, it might be hard, right?” Choromatsu pointed out, glancing around the table awkwardly in hopes he could find back up. The others turned their eyes elsewhere, expectably.

Karamatsu lowered his face a bit, taking an extensive breath, “it's fine.” He reassured, sliding his legs from under the kotatsu. “It shouldn’t be difficult, just a matter of actually… getting there,” he placed a hand on the ground, taking his cane.

“D-do you want help?”

“I’ll be fine, I think, thank you, Choromatsu,” Karamatsu said, pushing himself up and leaving the room. They all quickly went back to whatever they'd been staring at the table thinking about.

When he found his way back in and settled himself neatly under the kotatsu in his previous spot, only to lay down and snuggle into the carpet, though, Osomatsu began to find an issue. “What are you doing?”

“Aniki, I'm just-”

“Just about to fall dead asleep here instead of going to bed like a normal person?” The eldest hummed dourly, with a chiding tone and chin in hand.

“Non, non, I’ll stay down here, buruza,” Karamatsu hummed, fidgeting to get himself comfortable. “What sort of word is ‘normal’ for us anyways.”

“Ah, bullshit! Come on, move it!” Osomatsu commanded, pulling on his brother’s sleeve. Karamatsu hesitated a bit, but with another few tugs, he followed the eldest upstairs. He insisted he needed no help(again) in putting on his pajamas, and though it took long enough for a couple of the others to make their way up and pull the futon out, he didn't do too badly (even if his pants may have been on backwards and the shirt buttons were misaligned).

“Here,” Osomatsu said in a beckoning tone, gently pulling Karamatsu to the futon and sitting the both of them in adjacent spots. Totty gave a bit of a pout upon noticing the action, but didn't protest and returned quickly to getting ready.

Karamatsu’s brows furrowed as he was pushed into a lying position, and as the eldest stayed next to him. “But isn’t this--?”

“Hush, hush! sleep!” Osomatsu insisted, pulling Karamatsu’s head to the pillow and drawing it near his chest.

“Ah! A-aniki, you’re squishing my face.” Karamatsu protested with an uncomfortable squirm.

“Oh, sorry,” he almost snorted, scooching away a bit and adjusting his arm. It didn't take long after the others turned out the lights and got settled for most of them to fall asleep, particularly Karamatsu. He didn't plan to think too hard about anything by staying awake, anyway.

Karamatsu took a long breath and gave a long exhale as he shifted under the covers. It felt… Brighter somehow; his face felt pleasantly cool, and he could smell breakfast strongly as opposed to the expected nose-full of whatever laundry detergent had been picked that month and Osomatsu’s sweaty armpits. He was almost tempted to try and lift the bandages to see if he could--well, see. But the sting that rubbing his face drowsily against the pillow caused reminded him the depth of the damage was definitely not going away for a while.

He rolled onto his back, settling deeper into the blankets comfortably with the much less irritating position. It must have been a lovely day out-he could still hear some birds chirping… And not much else. Come to think of it, breakfast was sort of the only thing he could smell at the moment. Not that he expected to be able to hear the others breathing, or smell their breath from this distance, but it was oddly silent… until the echo of a shout reached him from what he assumed was the living room.

Karamatsu grasped at the empty pillow beside his, brows furrowing as much as they could with the bandaging. “Hello?” He called softly, and slowly forced himself to a sit. He listened carefully for an answer, or any sort of sound to indicate someone else was in the room. When there was nothing but the voices downstairs, he gulped, standing up clumsily. He could feel his heart begin to knock against his chest, and his lungs tighten; he had to follow them.

The cane--where was the cane?

He shuffled to the nearest wall, putting a hand to it and crouching to try and feel around on the carpet. He couldn’t remember where they mentioned putting it if they’d mentioned where at all. Karamatsu found his way to the door, cautiously sliding it open and stepping into the hall.

“Hey! Can anyone hear me?” He shouted, taking to the opposite wall and feeling his way along it until the edge of his toes touched air, and he flinched back with a barely suppressed gasp. The stairs. “Brothers?...” Karamatsu’s voice dropped, and he slid his hand from the wall to the railing with a gulp.

He made his way down step by step, taking great care in shakily sliding one foot down until it scraped the solid wood, placing a bit of pressure down, then doing the same with the other. It was an arduous process, but the drop his gut took each time he wasn't quite making his mark definitely kept him on his toes. He was almost starting to get confident in it when he heard one of the doors slide open. Immediately, out of reflex, he pulled his head up to pantomime looking in the direction and shrank when he could practically sense the tension it caused in whoever was there.

“Karamatsu?” Choromatsu’s voice rang through the hallway, “what are you doing?” Rushed footsteps followed his nervous question, until hands grasped onto Kara’s arm, guiding him down the last few steps.

“I, I couldn’t find the cane,” Karamatsu explained quietly, taking a step on the first floor but not pulling his other hand from the banister.

“Osomatsu!” Choromatsu called in that loud tone he tended to get, looking upstairs only to hear the bathroom door slide open and watch the groggy, messy haired eldest lumber out. Choro spun to look at him, gesturing fanatically to Karamatsu as Osomatsu's eyes opened fully. “What the hell?!” Now properly alert, Osomatsu walked towards them, growling at Choromatsu’s lowered brows and eyelids and sneer bared teeth.

“I didn’t think he’d try to leave, I was just taking a piss!” Osomatsu said defensively, putting his arm around Karamatsu’s back and shoulders to shepherd him away from the steps.

“Well, he left!” Choromatsu said, his animated form of expressing anger taking over, despite Karamatsu beginning to shrink. “We wouldn't have even heard him, the only reason I saw him was because mom wanted me to get you!”

“Choromatsu, it’s,” Karamatsu began, drawing his lips shut tight when he was interrupted.

“What if he slipped?” Choromatsu said, pinching Karamatsu’s shirt sleeve. “You could have broken your neck or something!” He scolded in that same sour voice, leading the other towards the bathroom. Karamatsu tightened his jaw with a swallow, going silent.

Osomatsu gave a low sigh, stature slacking as he turned to go back upstairs.

#blind!kara #osomatsu-san #tw: eye trauma #tw: chemical burns

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911onabc · 6 years

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do you get to the cloud district very often?.....what am i saying, of course u don’t

#its 3am and i wanna beat up navern #FUCK U NAVEEN #ramblings

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primortravel · 3 years

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New Post has been published on https://primortravel.com/latin-america-10-ways-solotravelpricingtracker-solo-trekker/

Latin America 10 Ways-SoloTravelPricingTracker | Solo Trekker

Latin America 10 Ways-SoloTravelPricingTracker: Spotlight on Latin America: After more than a year of lowdown, summer 2021 has been off to a rocky restart as COVID-19 restrictions constantly change. However, top solo travel deals for single travelers for 2021-2022 are at unheard of lows. With Latin America relatively “nearby”, check out the three easy steps below to access 140+ top solo travel deals-Latin America. Since no single supplement deals are always limited in number, book as far ahead as possible.

Follow the three easy steps below for no to low single supplements or solo-priced rooms/cabins using our free SoloTravelPricingTracker.

Go to the drop down menu, and select “LATAM”.

(For more information on their wide variety of trips, connect with UnCruise Adventures using our free search tool, the SoloTravelPricingTracker.net.)

Day 2-3 From San José, you will be off to La Fortuna.

You have lots of choices: You can start by relaxing in a local hot springs. Alternatively, you can begin with going whitewater rafting. If you want to really get your heart pumping, you can have an adventure rappelling down a waterfall!

You can hike around the famous Arenal Volcano’s base. Monkeys may greet you as you make your way. To cool off, you can swim in the nearby waterfalls.

Other ideas? Go for a bike tour. Explore a wildlife refuge. Go for a horseback ride. Learn how to paddleboard.

Bird watchers and nature lovers will enjoy seeing the three hundred and fifty different local species. You may even see a sloth high overhead in the treetops. At ground level, you may spot really large lizards!

Day 4-5 From La Fortuna, you are off to Monteverde.

The day will start with a bike ride along the banks of Lake Arenal. You will have a boat trip and van to Monteverde. The Santa Elena Cloud Forest Reserve is cool even in the summer. Like Indiana Jones, you will cross suspension bridges high over the forest below.

For an exciting add-on, try out ziplining. You will get a true “birds’ eye view” from the tree tops!

For a real change of pace, you can visit the local Butterfly Garden. It has thirty different types of butterfly so have your camera ready!

Fellow coffee lovers will enjoy the tour of the Monteverde Coffee Plantation. You will learn how your morning coffee makes the long journey home to you. Then it will be time to enjoy some samples of really fresh coffee!

Day 6-7 You will leave Monteverde and head to-Costa Rica’s Pacific Coast.

Day 8 After a final swim or surfing adventure at Malpais, you will head back to San José.

You will arrive in time for dinner and to see local nightlife.

Day 9 Your Costa Rica vacation for singles adventure travel packages comes to an end as you head home.

Costa Rica Two Ways: Ecotour Deals for Solo Travelers: Insight Travels:

BE SURE TO SAY SOLO TREKKER 4 U SENT YOU FOR SPECIAL SAVINGS!

Solo Travel Destination-Costa Rica a Top Eco Tour and Adventure: Sample Tour:

Costa Rica is a full pageant of color. Rain forests combine with endless white, sandy beachy. Butterflies and frogs buzz by waiting for you to focus your telephoto lens. Once you get off the beaten path in Costa Rica’s national parks, you will see both endangered and other species from large cats to noisy macaws. There are lots of adventurous, active options from hiking to diving or more leisurely birding and whale watching.

San Jose:

Day 1:

The capital of Costa Rica has much to see and do. San Jose has many museums to prowl through. My personal favorite was the Museo de Oro (Museum of Gold). It has many exhibits that date back to the time before Columbus. Fashionistas will also be glad to see its gift shop. It has great fashion jewelry in gold based on the ancient items in the museum. Earrings and necklace replicas make special gifts to remind you of your trip.

Savegre:

Days 2-4:

Bird lovers get ready to be entranced! Humming birds will hover starting at breakfast. You will find more than 170 species. Sunrise is the best time to view Costa Rica’s colorful birds. If you have good luck, you may get a selfie with a new “friend”!

Hike the Quetzales National Park. This 12,350 acre park has 14 eco-systems and 3 forest zones! It has both natural water sources and highland forests.

See the division between North and South America which occurs at the Continental Divide.

Spy on multiple local bird species in flight or nesting.

Relish awe inspiring views between the Central Volcanic Cordillera and the Talamanca Mountains. They are near by to both the southern and central Pacific coasts. (To the east is the Caribbean Sea.)

Behind is the tallest peak in Costa Rica known as Chirripó.

Uvita:

Day 4-7:

Kayaking: Hatillo Mangrove Forest

Costa Rica has one of the world’s richest eco-diversity venues. Its mangrove swamps, filled with birds. Species of birds range from the royal tern, brown pelican, little blue pelican and the bare-throated tiger-heron. Mammals include the exotic white-nosed coati, two and three-toed Sloth and the white-faced capuchin monkey. In addition, six crab species lumber through the forests. Also at home are massive boa constrictors and vibrant green lizards.

Hiking the Corcovado National Park

Founded in 1975, the Corcovado National Park has both ocean (2,400 hectares) and rainforest (54,539 hectares) sectors. It is a top venue for tourists from around world. It is rich with many species: 6,000 of which are lurking insects, 116 amphibians, 140 mammals and most popular? 400 bird species! The Corcovado National Park has 6 eco-systems. It serves as home for colorful scarlet macaws, tapirs and awesome poison dart frogs, leering crocodiles, fierce pumas and jaguars.

The Costa Rican Pacific Coast is home to the Caño Island Biological Reserve. Pristine beaches surround the island which is protected by a reef. As a result, it is perfect for snorkelling or diving. Year round you can see depths of up to 65 feet! You will see a wide range of species from whales, dolphins, manta rays, turtles and colorful tropical fish.

DAY 7 End of Tour

Peru Solo Trekker 4 U Insights:

Machu Picchu is one of the world’s most famous sights. For global tourists, Machu Picchu is the ultimate draw to stroll slowly leisurely through an ancient monument while enjoying modern conveniences. For an active holiday, it is an ideal spot for outdoor sports and hiking. You can choose either or a mix of both styles that fit your budget and interests.

As a result, Peru is a top solo travel destination as a standalone trip. However, it is also well located to combine a trip to Peru with a visit to its neighboring countries of Chile to the south or Ecuador to the north.

Peru Solo Travel Beyond Machu Picchu-Other Key Sights Not to Miss:

Peru’s Amazon: Iquitos is a common launch point for Peru’s Amazon. You can choose an adventure tour going on an expedition with a small boat and crew. I did this in another part of the Amazon. With just fifteen new friends, we were able to make our way into remote areas not possible for larger boats. There is a real thrill to making your way through the rain forest with your guide cutting a path ahead of you. Another plus is that it is more likely that you can see wildlife in their native habitat by going “off the grid”! The Amazon region covers two-thirds of Peru’s territory. It is a haven for wildlife viewing up close and personal! The sloth and monkeys high above the canopy are most often photographed. However, I fell in love with the capybaras. These gentle giants can reach 120 pounds. They love to lounge in the natural pools that are throughout the Amazon. They are perfect for an exotic selfie!

However, if you would like a luxury 5-star river cruise, there are many great deals with no single supplements. A good choice would be combining Machu Picchu with the Amazon.

Solo Travel Deal for Peru: OAT Travel Sample Tour:

OAT Travel has 30 years’ experience in the travel industry and guarantees that groups will be no larger than sixteen people. Better yet: they have no single supplement* on land tours! It is not just the typical large tour model but a really unique, high-end tour at affordable prices. (Do book early while there is space available for solos to avoid paying a single supplement!)

Real Affordable Peru

Lima • Sacred Valley • Machu Picchu • Cuzco

Explore Peru from storied Machu Picchu to the heights of Cuzco. See llamas making their way through the Andes and watch as local artisans create their handiwork. Sample top local cuisine and learn more about the ancient Inca empire.

Solo travel deal for Peru:

Lima:

DAY 1 Fly to Lima, Peru.

DAY 2 Arrive in Peru’s capital, Lima, and explore the Miraflores district.

DAY 3 See the sites of Lima’s old city before moving on to ancient Incan times.

Solo travel deal for Peru:

Sacred Valley:

DAY 4 Arrive in the heights of Cuzco and start your adventure in the Sacred Valley. Cuzco, once the Incan capital is is one of the highest points in the region at 11,000+ feet. This is a good way to take it easy and get use to the height. It actually dwarfs Machu Picchu which stands at a mere height of 7,874 feet! Luckily, the Internet is filled with tips on adjusting and avoiding or overcoming altitude sickness. Pisac, also located in the Sacred Valley, is largely known for its handicraft, open-air markets.

Solo travel deal for Peru:

Whitewater rafting adventure:

DAY 5 Time for an adventure: go whitewater rafting in the Urubamba River. This has always been one of my favorites for solos or families. It is an adventure for both novices and experts. Before viewing the ruins of Ollantaytambo, you will meet a local family for lunch, and have the chance to try local dishes. Ask about the piranha! I was really shocked to find that they make very tasty appetizers.

DAY 6 Make your way by train ride through the Sacred Valley and explore fabled Machu Picchu. While Machu Picchu is one of the world’s most famous ancient sights, it was only discovered recently in 1911.

DAY 7 Continue through Machu Picchu and exploring the Sacred Valley and back to Cuzco. Ask about whether there are still horse trails to make your way through the Sacred Valley. For other options, you can join an active day tour for more hiking, biking and ziplining. For a really breath-taking view, join a ziplining adventure at the top of the canopy.

Solo travel deal for Peru:

Cuzco:

DAY 8 While you discover Cuzco, you will have free time to explore independently.

Solo travel deal for Peru:

Village life:

DAY 9 Visit Izcuchaca for archaeological ruins and trekking. Follow-up seeing daily life in the village of Chinchero.

DAY 10 Before heading home, you can see Oropesa, Tipon, Sacsayhuaman & Kenkoe. Located south of Cuzco, they boast more Incan ruins and history to view.

DAY 11 Time to fly back home!

Other Great Tour/Cruise Operators for LATAM -SoloTravelPricingTracker

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#Backpacking #SoloTravel #SoloTraveling #solotrekker #Travel #Traveling #Social Travels #Solo-Traveling

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preeya-herlittlespace · 5 years

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Experience The Best Of Manipur Series - II

While I loved the valley but my heart remains tucked somewhere in the hills of Manipur. It was my home for more than two years and the hills and its people loved me back the way I loved them and more. Manipur hills with all its insurgency and army operations happening have been a scary and mysterious abode. And I am glad it opened it’s arm to peacefulness in my presence. https://herlittlespace.com/2019/06/20/the-best-of-manipur-series-i/ Do read the first part of this series ! Just two hours from Imphal lies Tengnoupal, a beautiful, serene hill town that I called home. It happens to be the highest point on NH-2, the ASEAN highway that enters Myanmar, through Moreh. The road is popularly known as the Moreh road and you can book a vehicle easily from Imphal to travel here. There are also buses running daily and share taxis are plenty! While traveling from Imphal, the road is plain and straight till Palel. And you cross little towns like Thoubal, Kakching, Khongjom, etc. Thoubal happens to be a district town which is crowded and the market is really big, while Kakching has a beautiful garden known as the Kakching Garden and, bang on the road in Khongjom you come across the glorious gate of the Khongjom War 1891 Memorial. While driving down it falls on the left-hand side and it’s worth paying a visit. Not just for the architecture but to pay homage to the great sacrifice to the martyrs of 1891 War.

The first bullet of the war was fired by the British on the 24th March 1891, without any provocation from the Manipuris. In the days fighting at the capital of Manipur, about 50 Manipuris including Pukhramba Tanka, Khumbong Subedar, Leisang Jamadar and Athokpa Dewan sacrificed their lives. Two Tangkhuls were also among those killed in hand to hand fight. Lt. Brackenbary and some sepoys of the British Army lost their lives on the side of the British. In the aftermath of the palace attack, owing to the demand of the Manipuri masses, seven unguarded British Officers were killed.The Battle of Khongjom was the greatest battle of the Anglo-Manipur War. Great freedom fighters-Major Paona Brajabasi, Chinglen Sana, Khumbong Major, Loitongba Jamadar, Keisa Jamadar, Heirang Khongja and many more rank and files of Manipuri warriors sacrificed their lives at this battlefield. Source - https://thoubal.nic.in/tourist-place/khongjom-war-memorial-complex/ After Khongjom the drive is beautiful with green meadows on both sides and hills at a distance. Different shades of green fill your heart and if you are lucky, you might get to see a rainbow! The hilly roads start from Palel and the scenic beauty of the road is unparallel. During monsoons it’s misty, clouds come down to say hello and the temperature changes drastically. And exactly two hours or 70kms from Imphal on this road you reach Tengnoupal, there is an Assam Rifle post for a regular checkup and just 5 minutes from the check post is the very beautiful Gaby’s Café where you can stop for a quick bite.

https://herlittlespace.com/2019/06/06/these-beautiful-cafes-in-manipur-are-all-about-coziness-and-good-food/ You can learn more about the cafe here!

Tengnoupal town Tengnoupal had been home for more than two years and I had so many guests come over for a stay, they just wanted to soak in the beauty of this tiny little village town which has recently been made into a district. And quite a few kept asking if there was a homestay or a hotel around this beautiful hill but there wasn’t any until now! Gaby’s Café now has rooms to stay and that’s not all, you can also carry your tent and camp for the night in their compound. And if you are a mountain lover like me you must stay at least for a night in this beautiful café and explore the villages around. You shall meet some really lovely people with the warmest smiles.

Home!

Strolling down the village... Tengnoupal lies just 37kms from Moreh, the border town that shares its boundary with Myanmar. It takes a little more than an hour in the hilly roads to reach Moreh. There is one more Assam Rifle check post and you cross the very beautiful Chamol river on the way. MOREH TOWN

Often referred to as India’s gateway to Southeast, Moreh is more than just a border town. This commercial capital of Manipur is mainly inhabited by the Kuki community but there is a noticeable number of Tamils, Meiteis, Punjabis, Telegus, Bihari and Nepali settled there. This rapidly developing trade point in India is growing at an unbelievable pace.

The fish market in Moreh

The vegetable mandi I made frequent trips to Moreh because the Lamphalong Market was such a temptation! And just an hour away I could actually enter a differ country without any Visa or Passport, how could I not make the most of it.

However, the first thing that I noticed about this little town bustling with people was the number of Tamil posters around. In a little state like Manipur, where most people were not very familiar with Hindi, how was Tamil so popular? I did not know whom to ask until I met Shree Aunty. One day in my usual trip to Moreh I asked my driver, where did he have his food? He was from Uttar Pradesh and I saw he was never comfortable in having food in the local market places. “God knows what meat they will feed me”, he said. So, I asked him if he stayed hungry till he gets home? He said he had food at a Tamil family restaurant and I thought of accompanying him. The little restaurant served proper home cooked food including dosas and thalis( both veg and non veg). On the very first day I asked for a permission to take a picture of the old lady sitting in the counter,he had the most typical tamil features and spoke to her employees in Burmese. She denied for a picture and I did not wamt to push. I started visiting her restaurant regularly and it did not take long for the ice to break and at times I visited Moreh just to sit and chat with her. I have always been curious about the Burmese Tamils here and I had googled about them but I wanted to know more. And I would keep asking her until one day she was ready for a picture and talk about her ancesters.

“My mom used to say they called us Kala Lumyo, because we are dark. But still that is our home and those people are our people! Things will get better and we will be able to go back to our own home." Often she looked lost in her thoughts... Maybe pondering on the times gone by. "I was born in India, in Moreh. But my mother used to say that I belonged to Burma. I speak Burmese better than Tamil. My mother was from a village in South india and my father was from Chennai but they had their home in Burma. They fell in love and married in Burma. Burma was their country. Burma was home!" I had very casually asked her... "And where do u belong aunty?" She smiled with teary eyes and said, " I don't know... “ In the 19th century during British colonialism thousands of Indians from Tamil Nadu began to leave and migrated to Burma(now Myanmar) attracted by the country’s labour prospects. They successfully involved themselves in the rice cultivation and trade. But their fortune did not last too long, with the decline of the British Empire they began losing on their business. During a military coup in the 1960s under General Ne Win, the Tamil population were forced out of the country. There are quite a few articles written about these Burmese Tamils and if you want to read more about them, here is a link to one of the best I found - https://homegrown.co.in/article/47804/manipurs-mini-tamil-nadu-how-burmese-tamils-ended-up-in-moreh Other than the interesting blend of culture and heritage this little border town of India has one of the most flourishing market places in the country. According to economists, this little town will turn into a bustling city in the coming years and you know they are correct once you enter the town.

The market place in Moreh happens to be one of the main attractions of Manipur and for all the right reasons. I myself explored the market there and I can tell you there you nothing you won’t find there, both legal and illegal. And the biggest market here is the Namphalong Market from where daily there is a business of around 90 crores. NAMPHALONG MARKET

The Namphalong market is on the other side of the border and to enter the market you actually enter Myanmar. If that is not interesting enough you can actually explore the border town of Myanmar, Tamu for the day without a Visa and a passport. Though this is far from experiencing mainstream Myanmar but good enough if you want to explore the local cuisine and a part of the culture, market place and places of worship. The namphalong market was described as a shoppers' paradise to me and why not?! You actually find an insane variety of things in this market and for a tax-free price!

Every day thousands of sacks packed with goods are transported through these thelas, trucks and buses.

In my two and half year stay, I must have visited the market hundreds of times and I actually went crazy with the variety of fruits and vegetables that were available and how cheap they were.

Then there are electronics of every kind, there are enough types of kitchen items to set your kitchen up for good, there's a full lane for crockery! A lane dedicated to home décor stuffs like posts and planters, artificial flowers, wall décor. A lane dedicated to clothes and fabrics. One for makeup and skincare, one for shoes and bags, and one dedicated to food! And if you are a shopaholic you might just go crazy with the kind of options you get for the price.

Shopping is not the only attraction this place has to offer, you can actually take a pass from the immigration office in the market go for a tour around the town of Tamu. I absolutely loved doing this, most of the times I would take an auto to just drop me in the main market and explore everything on foot. It’s easy to find an auto back to the lamphalong market at the end of the time. Right when you enter the Lamphalong market you come across the little immigration counter. The counter charges around 20/- INR, keeps an identification card and you are told to be back by 4pm(Indian time). You have an auto stand at the end of the market place and they charge you 300/-INR for an hour and 500/- INR for hiring them full time. TAMU

The bridge that connects both the countries. The white part is Indian side and the yellow part is where Myanmar starts. Suddenly the auto driver starts driving on the left-hand side of the road, you cannot read the banners around you and the auto driver nor any other person does not understand Hindi or English, you have entered Myanmar. However, there are quite a few Nepalis settled there and if you are lucky you might meet a few and they happily take you around the town.

For me, the language barrier hasn't been much of a hindrance, I roamed around the market and bought things without understanding a word they said and it was fun! I loved the feeling of being in a different country where I could not understand the language but it worked out amongst us quite beautifully. We laughed at each other for being confused and yet, in the end, it was manageable. Other than the market place, Tamu has a few beautiful monasteries that are worth a visit.

Tamu market will give you a little glimpse of the culture of Myanmar and there are a few good restaurants there too. There is one right in the main market area called 'The Water World'. The food is delicious and paying in Myanmar currency you end up eating so much for so less money! Almost every tour agency take their guests to this restaurant and so I am sure you won't miss this one. During these visits, I made a few friends in Myanmar too and one of them was a baker. I loved her cakes so much that she took me to her little factory in her house itself.

I had written quite a few blogs on Manipur, but never about this part of the state. Not because I did not want to but this part of the state was home and I was scared if I would be able to do justice to it. Hoping that the blog grows your interest in the beautiful state that Manipur is. And the next in the series shall be the other sides of the state. though I have already written about most of them but will combine all in this series so that it helps. Liked the blog? Pin it!

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alt-avengersfics-blog · 7 years

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#TattooMe

Summary: Tony Stark runs the most successful tattoo shop and gallery in New York. What happens when he and his team of artists host a tattoo giveaway on Instagram? A/N: Heya guys, so this is my first ever fic posted on Tumblr and will be an AU mini series featuring different Avengers paired up with a tattooing style I think matches their characteristics. It’s going to be a reader insert fic with some potential reader x whoever. I have the first few characters stories developed in my head, they just need to be written. Any feedback is appreciated!

Word Count: 2115 (sorry I got carried away~!)

When it came to tattoo shops in America, the biggest name in the game that everyone knew was Stark Tower. The multi-floored, state of the art facility took nearly four years to construct and not only had earned a reputation for being a celebration of modern technology in its design, but the owner of the tower with his dazzling charisma was known to recruit only the best of the best artists in each of their stylized areas of tattooing. The shop itself was branded Avenging Tattoos, and the outside of the building built from vibranium reinforced concrete boasted a giant ‘A’ with a large swoosh through the center that lit up at nightfall brighter than the New Year’s Eve ball. Since the lavish grand opening of the facility thousands of adoring fans would flock in droves to this temple of the tattooing community to have prayers lined onto tender flesh in a wash of rainbows and blacks all while trading intimate moments of rare, raw human connection through conversation over the steady thrum needles driving home.

Stark Towers was home to much more than just tattooing though. Since its inception born from a crazy shower thought one night while Tony Stark stood under the warm stream blasting away at his tired skin he knew he wanted this dream to own his own shop to be something more than just another place to get tattooed. That’s why, even when his friends laughed in his face when he shared his hopes for a shrine to honor the history of the art of inking skin, Tony surged forward with the passion only a mad man could possess to make it all a reality. Countless hours and sleepless nights he poured into nurturing and growing this tiny seed until it blossomed into the most beautiful flower in Downtown Manhattan.

The first floor of the tower looked rather unassuming to the average individual. Some may even mistake it for a hotel lobby with the main wall lined with a large black marbled reception desk atop a delicately stained walnut wooden frame. The walls were awash with the color of storm clouds before a torrential storm and a modern chandelier that looked like the rings of Saturn stacked inside one another in three tiers provided enough light to illuminate the vast expanse of the room. Several couches and plush armchairs provided seating for those as they waited their turn to check in with the fashionably dressed receptionists with stunning smiles working behind the counter directing those to their destination within the upper floors of the tower.

The second floor of the tower was accessible by all members of the public after paying a small fee at the reception desk and functioned as a museum, packed full to the brim verging on the point of bubbling over of anything and everything a curious mind would need to feel satiated when it came to the topic of tattooing. Expertly designed and laid out by top architects and curated by a man simply known by the name Vision, guest could wander the winding halls of the second floors for hours gazing star-struck at old preserved skins inked with prison tattoos donated by Russian strong holds in Siberia, at primitive tattoo machines which often were just long sticks with a single needle at the end that were driven by hand into the wearer’s skin in a series on long painful taps, and infinitely more.

Above the museum the next three floors were entirely dedicated to the art inspired by Stark Tower’s resident tattoo artists and those that often guest spotted there. Hand drawn charcoal art framed in delicate frames, paintings lovingly brushed with tender hands upon canvas stretched on wood frames, and photographs of previous designs inked on human canvases lined the simple black walls illuminated by the soft glow of can lights wedged into the ceiling’s fixtures. Second only to the actual shop itself, this was Tony’s pride and joy and he wanted everyone to share in the passion that these artists poured tirelessly into their work. Those that couldn’t get worked into the books to get artwork permanently lined onto their skin often flocked to the gallery to admire the art and speak with the gallery’s manager, Pepper Potts. Word on the streets was if you expressed enough interest in a piece hanging in the halls of the gallery, you could become a proud owner of the artwork for a sizable donation to the charity the tower worked closely with.

After the gallery, there was a merchandise floor, mainly added to provide an additional layer between public access and the main hub of the tower, the shop where the artists worked. Here fans could purchase various items from shirts and hats, to keychains and bags, and all the profits made from the sales of the merchandise benefitted the charity known as SHIELD which Tony worked very closely with. This floor was managed by a perky brunette called Darcy, and thanks to her efforts the shop year after year could cut checks to SHIELD that totaled thousands.

At last there came the main floor where Avenging Tattoos resided and the artists practiced their trade. This floor only allowed access to those booked to get tattooed that day during specific time slots and individuals were required to check in with receptionists in the lobby. Once verified by the computer, they were issued wrist bands with scan codes that the elevators read through infrared scanners and whisked them off to the main floor. The sleek black elevator doors would slide open and instantly the air is electrified. Classic rock pumped through speakers lining the huge room and along the walls stations were strategically placed to allow each artist room to work and design. The hum of machines powered on as they danced across peoples’ skin buzzed in the air alongside laughter as everyone chatted while getting worked on.

The space felt intimate while remaining very spacious and smelled vaguely of disinfectant and incense. The room itself was round with the artists stations forming a U-shape starting at the front on either side and coming together at the back. The walls were bathed in a flashy red with trims of metal gold fixtures for lights and others for small detailed decoration. At the center of the room just outside the elevator doors sat a desk in the same red and gold with a circular design in the center illuminated by a soft blue glow. Seated behind the desk, often asleep leaned back in a comfortable chair with his feet propped up, was the shop’s manager affectionately nicknamed Old Man Nick.

No one knew what Nick Fury did in his past for a living, but rumor circulated that the man was ex-CIA or some secret spy that cost him one of his eyes. Retirement eventually found Nick and he returned to New York but quickly discovered how the drugs and violence pumped into the veins of his beloved hometown at the hands of the gang known as Hydra quickly wreaked havoc and devastated many areas of the community. No one knows how he came to know Tony Stark, but after pitching his idea of Stark Tower and the Avenging Tattoo shop, Nick agreed to back his endeavor and aid in the construction in exchange for a favor of his own. Together, Fury and a young ambitious district attorney name Peggy Carter founded SHIELD to take back the community from the clutches of Hydra.

On the date of the grand opening of Stark Towers, after much convincing from Nick, Tony agreed that he and his group of talented artists would tattoo that day for twenty-four hours straight the SHIELD insignia to those that wanted it for twenty-five dollars apiece and all proceed went straight to implementing the first item on the agency’s agenda: a youth outreach center for at risk kids where they could participate in activities and get mentored by prominent figures of the community and law enforcement and otherwise stay out of trouble. To say the plan exceeded expectations was the vast understatement of that year and the organization had enough funds to not only construct a beautiful facility for the youth of the community but they were able to move ahead schedule with their plans to build a women’s shelter and a learning center to help those finish their GEDs and even earn vocational degrees. Every year now on the anniversary date of their opening, Tony would host a lavish charity gala event and invite some of the biggest names in New York to attend and raise more funds for SHIELD.

All the success blew Tony’s mind, but he couldn’t help but wonder if there was more he could do. What was the next biggest trend? How could he attract more customers? Spread more knowledge about tattoos and get his and his artists’ work out there in to the world? Tony wracked his brain but came up empty handed every time and after several days spent flustered he invited the team out to breakfast to run through some ideas and pick their brains.

Now comfortably seated in a cozy downtown breakfast joint Tony forked another heaping helping on pancakes doused in house made blueberry syrup and shoveled the bite into his mouth, eyes briefly flashing up to meet those around him. Everyone agreed to come despite the early hour after the promise of free food and coffee and now papers scribbled in Tony’s messy scrawl passed between them in between bites of food.

“So, anything stand out?” the brunette questioned through the mouthful of pancakes, a bit of blueberry syrup running down his chin into meticulously manicured facial hair. Natasha grimaced next to him and forced a napkin into his hand which he quickly discarded onto the table and opted to take his thumb and swipe up the runaway drizzle before sucking the digit clean.

“I like this one”, Steve chimed in from opposite the round table, a cup of black coffee nestled in his right hand poised for a sip before his dusty pink lips while those baby blue hues gazed at the paper in his left. Messily scratched out on the leaf of lined paper torn from a spiral notebook with its frayed edges and coffee stains was a word that simply said ‘giveaway’. Tony furrowed his brows together but before he could begin bombarding him with questions Steve placed the paper back on the table and held his hand up to silence him.

“Hear me out”, he began after slurping some of the piping hot liquid and sighing with relief. “We all have Instagram accounts with thousands of followers, right?” The group around him all nodded in agreement which gave Steve the encouragement to continue. “So, what if we host a giveaway for our followers? I mean we are all booked out months in advance with chance openings if someone happens to cancel, so what if we give away tattoos so that maybe those people who can’t get on the books or can’t afford it have a fair shot?”

The group fell unusually silent, their utensils all resting on their napkins for the time being as they allowed the idea to sink in. “You know, that’s not half bad”, Bucky murmured first, the gears in his head clearly fast at work developing on the idea Steve suggested. “We could set the guidelines, say ‘no more than this size or this price’, yada yada, and do one for each of us. Then people can share a post we create for each of our personal accounts that way they can still choose who they want the chance to get tattooed by with the hashtag #tattoome-insertnamehere- and then we draw a winner randomly after a set date.” Again, the group fell silent, everyone thinking of the possibility and weighing the pros and cons.

“You know, I don’t see a downside to this”, Bruce quipped after biting into a bacon strip. If Bruce couldn’t find the any reason not to proceed with the idea, then it was a solid plan. Tony clapped his hands together win a grin and eagerly rubbed them together. “Then its settled, I’ll design an image you all can add text over and we’ll each post the original to our personal Instagram accounts then a month from today we will randomly draw a winner and invite them to the tower to get tattooed!” The group hummed their various forms of agreement then returned to eating. Tony in all his eagerness shoveled the rest of his pancakes into his mouth then scampered off to get to work. This was going to be a blast.

#avengers imagine #avengers imagines #avengers au #marvel au #avengers x reader

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svfedotov · 7 years

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Mukbang: Korean for Eating and Broadcasting (Part 2)

Se-Yeon gripped her cellphone in her hand but she couldn’t quite bring herself to dial 119. Something about Min-Hee promising to tell her story captured her interest. Perhaps it was the sincerity behind her voice or just Se-Yeon’s own need for a rational explanation, but her fingers froze up as she tore her eyes away from her phone and back onto her computer.

Min-Hee was still holding the clouded eyeball to the camera as if test her audiences reaction. With a fluid movement, she dropped the eyeball into her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully before making a bitter face.

“Yuck, it tastes like grizzle.”

She shook her head playfully and smiled.

clowns_are_coming:

Gotta eat everything LOL

hobitzzz:

i called the cops! they’re coming to get u!

RoguePirateParty:

ugh, ur nasty >:(

Min-Hee ignored the comments and dug a fingernail into the right cheek, getting herself a large piece. She looked at thoughtfully.

“His name is Lee Young-Hwan and he was born in 1960.”

She let out a small sigh as she ate the meat.

“He is the only son of Lee Sung-Ki and Lee Sook-Ja. He comes from very old money, some sort of linen and cloth company established during the Cheaongye era. As you can imagine, as he was growing up, he didn’t lack for anything.”

She reached off camera in the brief pause and brought out a large serrated knife. Se-Yeon felt her heart jump into her throat but like a bad car wreck, could not look away. Min-Hee moved the head face up and put the knife between the lips.

“While the rest of the country suffered from the after-effects of the Korean War, he grew up far away from the troubles.”

The knife moved back and forth through the corners of the lips, down through the cheeks that split like an overcooked hotdog, and caught abruptly at the jaw bone.

“Summers in Europe, grade school years in his uptown home in the Pyeongchang-Dong area of Seoul where he attended the elite schools. You know the type,” she added, grasping the jaw with one hand and pressing against the head with the other. “Rich and spoiled.”

With an audible crack, she twisted the jaw to the left and then back to the right, working out whatever cartilage still held it to the skull. The jaw bone, now lacking any cheek muscle or sinew to hold up, flopped cartoonishly open, only being held by the skin under the chin. Min-Hee laughed and grabbing the head by the hair, showed it to the camera. Se-Yeon could clearly see the full damage of the former Mr. Lee.

His mismatched eye holes held only the one eye and stared dead back at the audience. The hunks of flesh that Min-Hee had picked and eaten left large craters in his face and smooth crests of bone could be seen where the forehead was. The jaw though, that just hung limply off the head like a horny cartoon wolf, and within it, it revealed a perfect set of teeth that led all the way back throat.

LifeisaBunnyman:

…no tongue…

Instead of what should’ve been a gray, cooked tongue, there was a jagged cut along a meaty stump. Odd, though Se-Yeon, I don’t remember her taking the tongue out. It must have been removed earlier, perhaps even when…

“Well, he just wouldn’t stop screaming, you know?” said Min-Hee. She grabbed the jaw and mimicked mouth movements as she put on a goofy voice. “Oh please Min, I’ll give you whatever you want, I won’t call the cops, blah blah blah.”

Once again, she placed the head on the table and grabbed the knife. She swiftly cut through the rest of the chin skin and removed the jaw completely. Her hand glistened with the oil from the chin fat as she drew the jaw to her mouth and peeled off the small amount of flesh that still clung to the bone with her teeth. It jiggled in her teeth before she sucked it in and chewed.

liu_dai:

oh my god oh my god oh my god

clowns_are_coming:

woah, hardcorre

“That part is pretty chewy,” she said through a mouthful of food. “But the cheeks are the best.”

She dug the chopsticks deep into the right cheek. The flesh gave way easily and she gleefully ate it with a satisfied sigh. After a half a minute of pecking, she once again reached for the knife and with the tip this time, ran the edge along the heads brow from one lobe to the other. As she worked, she continued her story.

“Anyway, Young-Hwan had everything he wanted and you know what happens to people who have everything they want? They like to do bad things.”

She grabbed the edge of the forehead skin and pulled carefully so as not to rip it.

“I hear raw skin peels off like an orange, but the cooked skin keeps threatening to tear,” she commented. “Sorry, I just keep interrupting my story. Okay, so as Young-Hwan got older, he started to do bad things. When he was in middle and high school, he was the ringleader of his own gang and would go into town after school to beat up kids from other schools. He knew he couldn’t do at his own school, of course, everyone was just as rich and powerful as he was and he would get in trouble really quickly, but the kids in other districts were easy pickings. He would find the smallest, weakest kids and shake them down for money! Can you believe that! He had an allowance bigger than some people’s paychecks and he beat up poor kids for change!”

A look of anger flashed across her face as she spoke.

“And it wasn’t just kids, he would beat up homeless people too, even had his gang take pictures of it as he squatted next their beat up bodies. Rumor had it he had driven some poor student to suicide but no one ever came forward to prosecute him. Everyone was scared of him. He got in plenty of trouble for all the fighting and stealing, of course, but nothing ever came of it. He would either pay off the cops when they showed up or his parents would pay them off later. He never learned consequences.”

She paused her story as the forehead peeling finally reached the hairline. With the extra weight of the hair and the hair follicles, the rest of the job was much easier. Min-Hee cut and scalped along the hairline and with one final tug, pulled the entire mass off the skull. Trapped steam gently curled out warm bone. She held up the scalp and looked at the camera.

“I’m not eating this,” and threw it off screen.

Se-Yeon had remained speechless the entire time. She instinctively shoved a handful of salad in her mouth to prevent herself from screaming, feeling the cucumber and tomato juice drip down her chin. She wanted to turn it off, she had to turn it off, but she was scared to even go near her keyboard for fear that Min-Hee would find her and eat her next. All Se-Yeon could do was chew sloppily and stare forward, her hands in tight fists on her lap.

Her food seemed foreign in her mouth but she knew if she kept eating it, she would be human, a good human eating her good food. Not whatever what was playing on the screen. She felt her mind go blank as she frenzied over the food around her, trying to separate her world from that of Min-Hee’s. The rice is next, she thought, and grabbed the rice bowl. Forgoing the chopsticks, she scooped as much as she could in her mouth and chewed. As soon as one bite was done, she immediately shoved in the other, devouring the whole bowl in mere seconds. The fish, already half eaten, went in as well. She winced as the small bones scratched her cheeks and scraped her throat, but she didn’t slow down.

Her stomach moaned as the food hit her gut, but she silenced it with the entire glass of barley tea. She loudly burped and fell over weakly on the low table, her head turned to Min-Hee’s show. The food bowls were scattered at her feet to which she quickly kicked them away in disgust. She felt a little more relaxed, but not by much. Not nearly enough.

At some point during Se-Yeon’s fury, Min-Hee had gotten a small crab hammer and was gently breaking open Young-Hwan’s skull.

“Eventually,” continued Min-Hee. “Young-Hwan grew up, went to college, and became the vice-president of his parents company. Suddenly he got the power to be a bully on a much larger level. He began to aggressively shove out other textile companies with backhanded tactics, frivolous law suits, and even outright intimidation. Thanks to his tenacity, he made his company much more powerful and him much more above the law.”

The skull, softened from the boiling, finally gave way for a hole big enough for Min-Hee to fit her small hand in. She smiled as she felt the brain squish between her fingers.

“But no one escapes forever.”

********

“Lee Young-Hwan?” repeated Detective Kim as he listened to Min-Hee talk. “Anyone got details on him?”

A young addition to the force named Pak was typing away at the nearest computer and spoke without looking away from the screen.

“Apparently Lee Young-Hwan is the heir to a multi-million textile fortune, known for his aggressive tactics and mostly worked behind the scene.”

He pointed at the pictures the search engine had brought up. It was definitely him. Few of the pictures were posed, most were of him working on site somewhere or inside a courtroom, but the man in the official family photos with his elderly parents and wife exhibited the same face as the girl was eating.

“It appears he has not been reported missing,” continued Pak who had just as quickly brought up the missing persons search. “He must have disappeared very recently. We’ll make sure to have his family contacted.”

The reveal of the deceased name only brought more questions. How did this Min-Hee manage to get Mr. Young? Aren’t the rich usually surrounded by bodyguards? Did he have a habit of disappearing for a day or more at a time so often that no one went looking for him? Most importantly, where was the rest of his body?

“I wonder,” he mumbled to himself before turning to the young cop again. “Have there been any reports of headless bodies showing up?”

Pak did a quick search on the internal server and shook his head.

“Nothing. But she is quite small and considering the short period of time he’s been missing, she most likely did not have time to dispose of the body.”

“And her size suggests that she would have to break down the body into smaller parts to move it on her own, which would take some time,” said Detective Kim, finishing Pak’s train of thought. “Unless she has an accomplice.”

“She is quite famous, she just might.”

Kim watched as Min-Hee started to cut through Young’s mouth. He had seen plenty of cadavers in his day, intact and in various parts, fresh, rotten, water-logged, dried under the sun, but this was on a whole new level. She was on a whole new level. Min-Hee appeared so normal. If he had ever passed her on the street, he would never imagine that she would be capable of killing and eating a human being. She had the appearance of a well-raised youth, a woman that just passed into adulthood, who would spend her time matching her clothes to her make-up, reading glossy magazines, and meeting with her friends over sweet deserts in trendy shops. The kind that would secretly binge sugary dramas and was a klutz in the kitchen but always aimed to improve. She would fret over her weight even though she barely gained any and worked in a flower shop run by a sweet, but nosy old lady.

But this was definitely not her reality. Min-Hee existed somewhere much darker, much more accepting of violence and hate. She might indeed have been all the things he would’ve assumed, an existence of glittery eyeliner and bulbous flowers, but that was only what she projected. That was merely the skin she wore to blend in with society. She had filled up every crack and split with a brand new person and smoothed it over so perfectly that she would never appear as alien as she really was. Min-Hee was the true wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Kim found himself staring deep at her face, looking for some sort of hint of bent nose or covered scar, something to give away the demonic personality that she hid, but there was nothing. She was perfect. Her eyes projected nothing but kindness even as she dislocated the jaw. Her lips curled playfully as if she was posing in photo booth. He was stunned by his complete inability to read her.

The sharp ring of a cellphone broke him out of his trance. He had forgotten that his partner, Song, was still next to him. Song flipped his phone open and pressed into his ear.

“Song,” he answered his phone sharply before responding to a series of phrases on the other end.

“Okay…yes…yes…we’ll meet you downstairs. Goodbye.”

He clicked his phone off and looked at Kim.

“She’s been traced.”

“You found her?”

Song nodded and motioned Kim to follow him downstairs.

“She’s not far, in Seoul actually. She streaming from a warehouse in Geumcheon District. We got a team ready to go. Hopefully she’ll stay live until we get there. “

Their leather shoes slapped down the hallway as they dipped into a stairwell and quickly maneuvered to the underground garage. Four heavily armed officers stood in full SWAT uniform next to a SWAT van and a female officer sat behind the wheel of an official blue, yellow, and white police car. She stepped out of the car and opened the side doors for the two new arrivals.

“Detective Kim, Officer Song,” she said with a bow. “I’m Officer Choi, I’ll be driving.”

They returned the greeting and hopped in. With a flick of flashing lights, the two cars sped out of the garage and on to the road. Song pulled out his phone again and logged into Min-Hee’s live stream. She was still at it, this time peeling the skin off Young’s forehead. Song’s eyebrows flew up as he made a disgusted face.

“It just keeps getting worse,” he said, surprising Kim with his openness. Kim had never seen anything shake his partner. “Can you imagine someone like this walking around in the world?”

“It takes all kinds,” responded Kim as he reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. He shook a couple loose and handed one to Song before lighting his own.

“Her though? That’s a surprise, it’s so rare to see women being so violent. They don’t really like getting messy. Usually when the corpse is damaged like that, it’s a man doing the damage. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was personal.”

“Or she’s crazy,” added the driver before excusing herself.

Kim laughed humorlessly and took a deep drag.

“Or she’s crazy.”

Kim looked out the window as the buildings and people flew by him. The sun had long begun to set, setting the clouds on fire and turning the farther cityscape into a dark cut-out clawing at the sky. He felt himself glancing at the faces in the crowd, trying to pick out the dark secrets these nameless citizens were hiding. Which one of that group of old ladies was secretly a war bride? Was that young business man actually embezzling money? Did that happy couple beat and insult each other behind closed doors? Kim had been in the business long enough to know that you can’t judge a person by their cover; that even the smallest mouse is capable of killing, but Min-Hee was such the perfect young woman. Almost too perfect. Just like camouflage.

******

Se-Yeon ripped open her cabinets and grabbed her box of cereal. Gripping it to her chest, she snatched a bowl of apples that was sitting on her counter and the rest of the rice in her fridge. She could feel the delicate band of her sanity stretch farther and farther, threatening to snap into a shudder of violent screaming, and the only thing that kept everything intact was the food in pressed against her body. Something about the whole thing seemed almost unfair to her.

She had dieted while Min-Hee ate meals big enough for six people. She had counted her calories while Min-Hee gleefully ate three McDonald’s meals with an extra-large soda. She had run three miles every morning, bathed her face in acne cream, and busted her ass keeping her weight down while Min-Hee, well, Min-Hee ate a human fucking head with a smirk on her face. She was insulting Se-Yeon, insulting all the work that she had put into herself as if to say ‘you’ll never be as perfect as me, you’ll never be this free.’

Se-Yeon was mad and ashamed and in response decided to eat everything in her house. She would watch the video to the bitter end, knowing that at least what she was eating was clean and pure, not like whatever Min-Hee kept putting her body.

Se-Yeon pulled up to the low table and began to shove handfuls of cereal in her mouth as Min-Hee proceeded to talk.

“Oh, it’s so warm,” said Min-Hee as she pulled out a glob of gray, cooked brain. “It feels like scrambled eggs.”

She gingerly took a bite.

“It tastes just like the rest of him, kind of porky, but way stronger. So like pork brains.”

She slurped a clump of it into her mouth.

“It’s not bad. I guess being rich really seasons the soft bits.”

LifeisaBunnyman:

Ha ha, wonder if u can deep fry it?

“Hmmm, maybe I’ll try it next time,” responded Min-Hee.

LifeisaBunnyman:

I was kidding!

Min-Hee smiled and shrugged before continuing her story.

“Where was I? Oh yes. So Young-Hwan started to shove out the competition of other companies. Didn’t matter who they were. Big, small, it was all a threat to him. Or, most likely, he enjoyed the power. One day, he decides that a small, family owned textile business was in his way and demanded that they sell to him. Of course, they said no. What he had offered them was much smaller than what the company earned and would put the family in the poor house. They turned him away but Young wouldn’t take no for answer.”

She stuck her hand back in to the skull and pulled out another handful of gray matter. As she did, Se-Yeon bit off a chunk of apple and chewed it noisily as she watched.

“The family was very small, consisting of a mother, father, grandmother, and a daughter. A couple of weeks after Young-Hwan visits, the father disappears. The mother, of course, contacts the police but they’re no help at all, saying that he most likely ran away from creditors or his family or any other millions of reasons that fathers run away. They said they would look, but they didn’t. The mother was now all alone.”

Min-Hee had driven her nails into the remaining skin on the skull, an expression of hate crossing her face as she licked Young-Hwan’s brains off her other fingers.

“One day, Young-Hwan and three of his cronies knock on the woman’s door. They came in, feigning sadness about her missing husband, and offered to buy up her company to release her from the burden of ‘man’s work.’ At first she refused until Young-Hwan warned her that it would be a shame if something happened to her daughter as well. Apparently little girls disappeared off the streets of Korea all the time, only to reappear years later in a Chinese whorehouse, not knowing anything but sucking cock for food. The woman relinquished the company then and there. She received five million won, a pittance that lasted only to the end of the month, and the family fell into poverty.”

“The mother had started working at a laundry mat, working long hours for small pay and was completely heart broken by her husband’s disappearance. She began drinking as a way to cope and one day drank herself to death. Her daughter found her body still curled around a bottle; she was only twelve years old.”

Se-Yeon felt herself tear-up at Min-Hee’s story. It wasn’t subtle, she was clearly talking about herself. Se-Yeon responded by eating a handful of cereal to choke back her tears.

liu_dai:

can’t belive I’m still watching

At this point, Min-Hee began tear apart what was left of the head and face, revealing more and more of the skull underneath. It was an odd sight, watching a person go from face to muscle to skull, like the layers of an onion. Min-Hee pulled out the remaining eyeball and squished it between her fingers like a grape.

“It was then and there that the little girl decided to get revenge. She knew she was too small and had to focus on being a smart woman before she could do anything, but the moment would come and when she was 19, it did. Turned out Young-Hwan had a thing for collecting mistresses, especially young ones with big eyes and pink lips.”

******

“Kim, I think she’s reaching the end of her broadcast,” said Officer Song as they turned a sharp corner. The KNP SWAT team sirens were hot on their heels.

“How far are we?” Kim asked the driver.

“Almost there, she won’t get away.”

She added the last part with a satisfied smirk.

Song watched Min-Hee monologue into a scoop of brains with a nervous anticipation. He was running all the possible outcomes in his head, from Min-Hee following instructions and immediately giving herself up to her pulling out a gun or a knife and dying in a hail of bullets. No one can really predict how a criminal would act under pressure, but he was hoping that the SWAT team would not have to use their weapons. Or in the very least, he hoped that she was alone. One woman would be no match, but she could have a dozen people hiding just off camera. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she did; nothing about this case had been making any sense. He started playing with his ring again, feeling the smooth metal spin around his finger.

“There it is,” pointed Choi to a warehouse that had just appeared in their line of sight. “That’s where she’s streaming from.”

It was a small, one story warehouse that seemed to have been abandoned for a long time. Several windows had been busted out and weeds grew through the cracks in the cement. The building didn’t look like it could house a large company, maybe something family owned or with a limited product release.

They pulled up the building and immediately piled out of their cars. Kim took in the visage in front of him, his hand resting on his issued gun. There was no indication of what the interior could contain, the warehouse sat as silent as the area around it.

Kim and Song got on both sides of the main door, guns drawn, while the SWAT team emerged carrying a small, one person battering ram. The doors to the warehouse were old and wooden; easy for one strong armed officer to knock down. The detectives exchanged nods as Kim held up three fingers at the team.

Three, two, one…

******

“There’s really not much left, is there?” said Min-Hee, holding the skinned skull.

She had ripped off the nose with a sharp swipe of her knife and had blown into the holes, clearing chunks of meat that she shook out from the top of the skull. His ears had been laid off to the side with his jaw and she looked soulfully at was left of Young-Hwan as she continued.

“The little girl grew up and started following Young-Hwan around. She went to all his favorite restaurants and bars until he noticed her. That’s how she had become his mistress. That’s how she got him alone.”

She sighed and smiled into the camera.

“That’s how she killed him.”

Se-Yeon could feel her abdominal fighting her as she kept shoving food into her stomach. Min-Hee was smiling so benignly, like she had no care in the world, that Se-Yeon could feel herself tearing up. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying out loud. She looked at her own mess, the half-eaten apples, the spilled box of cereal, the empty bowls of rice and felt nothing but emptiness. No, that wasn’t quite right. She felt something, something close to pettiness. Suddenly, her diet seemed so pointless, her fears so minimal.

Min-Hee had eaten her hate, her nightmares. She had become the stuff of mythology, the wild woman who had destroyed those that had threatened her. Maybe she wasn’t a crow in human flesh, maybe she was the dove, eating the worlds sin and telling everyone it’ll be okay. Min-Hee was taking her life back. Se-Yeon had suddenly become so envious, she burst into tears.

Somewhere, she was sure she heard a man call Min-Hee’s name and the faint accusation of murder.

******

The door splintered after a couple of blows and let in the glow from the setting sun. Dead set in the middle of the warehouse was a bright computer screen on a desk with a large chair in front of it. The back of the chair faced Kim and his team who quickly filed in through the broken entry way. The table was wider than the chair and Kim could see some sort of tools scattered on the counter top.

“Min-Hee! This is the police!” shouted Kim, his gun gripped in both hands. There was no movement from the chair.

Aside from the glow of the computer screen, the rest of building was shrouded in dark shadows. Aging machines sat rusted against the walls and a fine layer of dust covered everything in the room. Kim motioned for the SWAT team to split up in case there were other people hidden in the corners.

“Min-Hee! I repeat, this is the police!”

Once again, there was no movement, just the continued flickering of the screen. She’s cocky, he thought, but she won’t get away. He and Song walked slowly towards the chair.

“Min-Hee, get up, you’re under arrest for murder,” he ordered.

Still nothing.

As they approached the set-up, they could finally make out what was on the screen. It was Min-Hee, talking and holding up the well picked skull of Young-Hwan.

“And that’s how she killed him,” said the Min-Hee in the stream.

******

A surprised look crossed Min-Hee’s face as a hand slowly crept over the stream and moved in front of the camera. It was thick, heavy with work, and wearing a gold ring on its middle finger with an inscription of an officer’s name and a “thank you for your work.” Min-Hee’s face was partly obscured by the large thumb, hiding her eyes and nose, but a clearly visible smile crept across her face.

“Well well, if it isn’t the police,” she cooed. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to show up.”

******

“Min-Hee?” asked Song, grabbing the chair. He looked down at the chairs occupant and turned away in disgust.

Instead of a young, perky girl eating a human head sat the decapitated naked, aged corpse of Young-Hwan. The screen flickered morbidly on the limp body as Min-Hee smiled in her broadcast. The various tools that Kim had spotted were not for eating, but for torture. Pliers, hammers, scissors, everything that could be used to torture a man was there, coated in dry blood and viscera. The body itself seemed severely damaged, indicating that Young-Hwan was tortured for quite a while before he was killed. His tongue was left behind as well, hammered to the table like a piece of wood. But it wasn’t just the headless corpse that had thrown him for a loop, it was what she had placed in its stead.

Kim instantly bit his knuckle.

On top of the bloody stump of a neck sat a web cam that pointed towards Min-Hee’s stream on the computer. Kim carefully waved his hand in front of the camera and saw it mirrored on the screen in front of him.

“Well well, if it isn’t the police. I was wondering how long it would take for you to show up.”

Kim stared blankly at the screen as Min-Hee smiled cleverly at her pursuers.

“I hope tracing my web camera wasn’t too much of a hassle. As you can obviously guess, I couldn’t afford to have you actually find me, so I took some precautions. Don’t worry, you just made it in time to watch me sign off.”

She stuck her fingers into Young-Hwan’s eye sockets and wiggled them, a giggle escaping from her lips.

“Such a useless man,” she laughed. “Well, I’m guess I’m done here. I’ve really made a huge mess! I know this was very hard to watch but I want to thank everyone who has stayed with me. I really appreciate it. Also, a big thanks to the police for working so hard to catch me.”

Kim cursed under his breath and turned away.

Se-Yeon continued crying, her tears pouring into her mouth as she kicked the ground.

“But you know what they say, the first one is always the hardest.”

With a wink and a peace sign, she bowed her goodbyes.

“Thank you for watching! Until next time.”

And all across the world, screens went dark.

#horror #mukbang #south korea #short story

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