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wesimpforxiao · 3 years

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Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 5.2

Author’s Note: I saw this on pinterest and thought it applied to Xiao XD P.S. Do you readers like that the story is in 2nd POV, or should I change it to 3rd person? My thinking is this POV allows me to get away without mentioning appearances or a chosen name so ya’ll could be put in OC’s shoes?

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Is it just me, or is he looking my way? You caught Childe in the act while you and your team retreated into the opposite tree line after Aether had taken the dragon tooth. Something didn't feel right. The trees seemed to close in on you like tunnel vision. Was he planning on attacking you with the skirmishers at his side? Was he going to show his true colors now? Is it time to face death?

He dismissed the soldiers and retreated from the direction you had all spotted the skirmishers in the first place. He made a point to cast a meaningful glance your way.

I can't let it happen now, you looked to each of your teammates as you all ran through the snowy woods. If he brought all of those Fatui agents on board with taking you out, the entire group would be overwhelmed. The sheer cold puts us at a disadvantage. Bennett could get hurt. Xiao can't fight with his full strength. When was the last time Aether and Childe sparred? I can't rely on those results to protect me either.

No one was paying attention; you could slip away and try to strike a deal with the Harbinger. Bargain for Xiao's freedom and safety. You were hypersensitive to the weight of your coat on your shoulders, and the crunching of snow beneath your boots. He can't hurt us now...not now!

You peeled away from the group and they continued to run towards a cave several hundred yards from their current position. No one had heard you. When you finally reached the first firepit, you found Childe waiting next to it.

"Oh there you are, ojou-chan! Did you get the tooth? Where are the others? They didn't run into trouble, did they?" He greeted you with his signature friendly stature.

"Drop the act, Childe." You came to a halt maybe ten feet from him, with your back to the firepit. It warmed your body significantly and you could finally feel your fingers and toes again. He was on the far end of the open area.

"Whatever do you mean, ojou-chan?" The mask didn't crack.

"We're alone now. Is that what you wanted?"

Childe stared at you for a moment before breaking out into a loud fit of laughter. "Oh ojou-chan, you know me so well〰" He took a couple steps toward you. "You should know I've been meaning to talk to you."

"That's close enough." He stopped. "I know what you're after."

"Oh?" A dangerous glint sparked in his eyes, one that you've never seen before. "Enlighten me then."

"I don't want Xiao dragged into whatever mess you brought upon us. Whatever your plan entails, it ends with me."

"A noble sacrifice for a man that will not love you," he smirked. "Why do you try to protect him when he can clearly fight for himself?"

"He's been through enough already," your hands closed into fists as you recalled his horrific past. "I'll go with you, but only if you give me your word you won't take him too."

"Ha! I feel no need to fight you, ojou-chan." The sincerity in his voice attracted your gaze back to him. "I don't wish to hurt you."

"Huh..?" That's out of character. Is this some sort of trap?

"I...have other goals in mind. They require your cooperation, of course. And your cutting of ties with the adeptus."

"Cutting ties? Why would I do that?" Your brows furrowed.

"My loyalty lies with the Tsaritsa, but I have a special interest with this mission after meeting you, ojou-chan," he made his way closer, and you stood in total confusion. "I will personally see to it that you will not get harmed at all in Snezhnaya. It all depends on your answer."

"You...I don't get what you mean. What answer? What exactly are you asking of me?" Whatever it was, you sure as hell weren't going to agree with it. But as soon as the questions left your lips, you knew.

He does like you.

Childe took note of the realization--and the fear--on your face and continued. "Surrender is a valid option, I promise I'll be gentle. This is a simple route that avoids all the fighting and pain. All you need to do is allow me to love you, and I won't harm your friends. You have my word."

"L-love me?" The words left a terrible taste in your mouth. "I...I could never! I could never love you, either! You killed my Granny...you stole her house from her frail hands. You...You!" Your sword made a metallic sound as it was unsheathed.

Childe inhaled and manifested his bow. He nocked an arrow onto his finger and drew the string to his cheek. "A most expected answer, ojou-chan. Thank you for strengthening my resolve. This will be much more enjoyable now." Whatever turmoil that shone in his eyes was long gone and replaced with pure malice. "Let's make this a fair fight." The arrow shot into the fire and extinguished it.

"Tch." You ran toward him as fast as you could in the snow, and crossed sword with lance.

"Not bad," your opponent grinned with satisfaction. "Where'd you learn this technique from?" You somehow managed to keep up with his unrelenting blows thanks to the muscle memory that belonged to Xiao. "I don't recall the adeptus ever training you."

"Ngh!" He landed a kick to your stomach and you fell into the snow. Childe let you get back up, completely high on the thrill of fighting you and more than intent on dragging it out so he could watch your fighting spirit diminish. I may be keeping up with him, but I can't land a solid blow like this. You slowly removed your two remaining jackets and tossed them into the snow next to the extinguished firepit. If I can somehow finish the fight quickly...You knew it was a hopeless battle. A fight between a non-vision wielder and a harbinger that wields both vision and delusion? Complete and utter self-annihilation will ensue.

"I admire your tenacity, comrade," he watched the jackets fall. "But now that I have my answer, there's no reason to wait any longer." He shoved his lance towards you when your guard was down.

"I won't let you hurt him!" You swung your blade to parry, and a sudden blast of material sent the two of you flying backwards into the snow. Your vision was suddenly looking into the tree canopy. "Ugh, wha--?" You sat up to find ice shards scattered across the snow. Something cool and metallic sat in your free hand. You opened your palm to reveal what you least expected.

A vision.

You stared at your hand with bewilderment while Childe rose to his feet with a mixture of shock, admiration, and annoyance. "I see. An unexpected development," he remarked with cold eyes. "It's a shame you won't have the chance to wield it properly against me. He drew his bow and aimed for your chest. Another block of ice manifested before the arrow could pierce you.

You placed the artifact into your jean pocket, and you rose to your feet with a newfound confidence. Maybe you could beat him here and now. Images of Xiao's fights involuntarily crossed your mind, and a lance of ice materialized in your hand. You held it so that the tip pointed directly at Childe.

Another clashing of blades, this time converting Childe's into an ice sculpture. But not before you had managed to freeze his leg into the snow for a hot second. You ducked at his swings, parried his attacks, and followed through with a sequence of your own--or rather Xiao's--attacks. It looked like you were gaining the upper hand until Childe caught your blade in his gloved palm.

"Thank you for the entertainment, ojou-chan," he growled. "But this is where it ends for you." Did you really think he hadn't studied your newfound techniques during your previous fighting session? So naïve of you, ojou-chan. You can't use the same tricks twice.

You retracted your weapon and lay waste another blow. He easily parried it. You engaged in a combo before swiping your feet at his legs; he leapt away before you could knock him down. You were frustrated now, your movements becoming sloppier with each passing movement.

There's the real you, he mused. His frozen blade dug into your dominant shoulder with such force that he had you pinned to a tree. He felt nothing but sadistic pleasure course through his veins at the sight of you squirming in pain.

"Gah!" A shriek escaped your lips and your lance dropped from your hand. You tried to claw the spear out of your body as he stalked ever closer to you.

"I don't even need Foul Legacy to kill you. You could never defeat me, not even in your wildest dreams," Childe stalked towards you as he twirled a new hydro polearm behind his body, stopping once its blade pressed against your neck. He could kill you in an instant, and he would if he wasn't required to bring you alive.

You were seething with anger and hatred. It was stupid of you to go after him on your own, to seek a peaceful resolution to this conflict when you knew all along that there wouldn't be one. It didn't matter now. Your anger subsided, shoulders releasing themselves from the tension in your muscles once you thought of an idea. Even the pain in your dominant shoulder seemed to subside a bit. Your sudden change in demeanor made Childe's grip loosen for a moment as he questioned the newfound peace emanating from you.

Your eyes closed and your lips curled into a smile. Adeptus Xiao, you called to him in your heart.Please hear me and answer my prayer for protection.

A sudden gust of wind blew against your back, and Childe faltered. He looked to you for an explanation, and you met his gaze through his mask. "I know, but he can."

Xiao burst into Childe at an incredible speed, knocking him square into another tree. The trunk splintered in half from the force. He conjured his polearm and held its blade at Childe's throat. "Why the sudden politeness in your prayers?" He called out over his shoulder without taking his eye off the Harbinger. I'm cursed with hearing her rambling whenever I'm gone, and only now she speaks politely to an illuminated adeptus? Despite that thought, he actually loved hearing your voice reach his ears.

"I-I don't know.." WAIT, he COULD hear me all this time?! Blush further tinted your pink cheeks that were red from the sheer cold.

"Tsk," Childe spit blood onto the snow and glared at the yaksha.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't decapitate you here."

Childe wasn't going to give him a reason and debated on conjuring his polearm instead. Here he was, about to die at the hands of the damned yaksha, and all because he had decided to give you a chance to 'escape' a portion of the hardship that awaited you. Signora would lose what respect she had for him if she ever found out. Oh well.

"Ngh," you writhed against the tree. Your feet were just inches from solid ground, making this injury all the more painful as you hung from the lance. You couldn't move your dominant arm anymore. Xiao let go of Childe's collar and moved to your aid. He slipped your other arm over his shoulder so he could relieve the pressure off of your injury, then yanked the spear out without warning. Your shout of pain scared the nearby foxes away.

Xiao gave the Harbinger one last glare before he lifted you in his arms and took off at an incredible speed. It was only a matter of seconds before the two of you caught up with the rest of the group, who were waiting just inside a small cave that held mysterious lab equipment.

"Be careful," the yaksha set you on your feet but refused to remove your arm from around him.

"There you are! W-where'd Childe go?" Bennett paled when he saw your injury. "Here, let me see that." Aether, Paimon, and Xiao exchanged knowing looks while Bennett examined your shoulder. "You should sit down. This isn't anything I can't fix!"

"What happened? Did Childe...?" Aether trailed off once he returned with a bowl of water from a boiling pot.

"Mn," you winced when Bennett peeled your shirt off of your bloody skin. "I thought he was conspiring with those agents when we were making a run for it, so I followed him."

"A foolish decision," Xiao grumbled. He took the water from Aether and held it to your lips.

"Were you at least able to find anything else out about his plans? Or Signora?" Paimon spoke up. "It's not worth getting hurt over if you just throw yourself in harm's way like that."

"I thought he was going to..." your eyes flicked to Xiao's for a split second before they fell to the ground. '--Hurt you,' you wanted to say. But the yaksha would not hear of it if you said something so foolishly naïve. You were just a measly human after all, with little knowledge of fighting and a large heart that wanted to protect those around her. A big heart could only go so far; it proved useless in your battle today. Or did it? You nearly jumped up when you remembered, "I have something! I got something from this!" Your loud yelp scared the daylights out of Bennett, and he nearly yanked the stitch out that he had just put into your skin. You dug into your pocket and pulled out the artifact.

"Is that--?!" Paimon and Aether sprung to their feet simultaneously.

"A vision?" Xiao's eyes widened slightly. And a cryo one, at that.

"So cool!" Paimon spun around with excitement. "You're officially one of us now! Er, not that you weren't to begin with--"

"Congrats," Aether nodded and flashed you a toothy grin.

"Yeah, congrats!" Bennett also flashed you a bright smile and observed the trinket in your palm. "Wow, we're like, polar opposites!"

"Heh, yeah," you nodded with a faint smile. Your eyes found Xiao's, which were locked onto your vision. "Xiao?"

"You received a blessing from the very god that's hunting you. Do you not find that odd?" His lack of enthusiasm made your chest ache in disappointment.

Was he not proud of such an accomplishment?

"Yeah now that you mention it," Paimon held her chin and thought. "It is really weird. Why would she make her target more powerful? Wouldn't that just make it more difficult for her to capture you?"

"Did Childe say anything about it?" Aether prompted.

"No," you shook your head slightly and pursed your lips. "He seemed as surprised as I was."

To be blessed with the cryo vision, one must commit an act that revolves around love, Xiao's brows furrowed. Had she done something on the behalf of her grandmother, or is this all in the Cryo Archon's plan? It never crossed his mind that you had gotten it on his behalf.

#genshin impact #xiao genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #fanfiction #xiao fanfiction #xiao one shot

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happylittledrabbles · 3 years

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choke me!

Rating: 18+

DO NOT READ IF UNDER 18, NO MINORS!!!

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Eren Yeager

—

"It's been four years, Reiner."

Reiner never thought he'd see Eren again. And yet there he was, sitting in front of him. The two exchange some heated words until Eren has had enough and lunges at Reiner, pinning him against the wall by the throat.

Except, instead of a cry or a shout, Reiner's reaction is a lot more...unexpected.

"Did you just...moan?"

Choking kink fic, basically.

AO3

—

“It’s been four years, Reiner.”

The last person Reiner Braun expected to see tonight was Eren fucking Yeager. He knew he’d see Eren again eventually, he just figured it’d be when Eren was killing him or he was killing the damned menace.

He didn’t think the reunion would be so soon.

They had warned that if Eren were to attack Marley at any time, it’d be tonight. But he had had so much fun at the fair with the kids that he hadn’t fully registered that Eren Yeager still existed. All he could think about was how happy he was to finally be out of that hell that was called Paradis and away from seeing the devils he had grown to love die at the hands of his own people. And he thought he had finally escaped it, except now, the biggest threat among both of their worlds was sitting right in front of him.

“H-how…” No thoughts in his head. There was nothing. Eren’s expression was so calm, it was mocking in comparison to the panic running amok in the blond’s chest.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking in these four years, Reiner Braun.” His name sounded like pure acid on Eren’s tongue. Even if Eren kept his tone measured, Reiner’s name still came out like two spears that pierced him directly in the heart.

“A lot of thinking about how you betrayed us. About how you killed Marco. About how you were my role model. A big brother, really.”

Nausea swirled in his stomach like a hot pit of lava, and he couldn’t help but step back and bump into Falco, who was also petrified; the two of them stilled like perfect marble statues. Reiner had tried hard to forget he ever interacted with Eren, nevermind considered him a friend. There were many times when they were alone together that he almost professed that he was the Armored Titan because he felt so close to him. He felt pride whenever he watched Eren succeed, even though he should have been actively distancing himself from him in preparation for the big operation. When he was supposed to not feel anything at all after breaking through Wall Maria and effectively killing everybody Eren knew, he locked himself in a room and cried and screamed for hours until Bertholdt came in and had to pry his hands from the table and hug him until his other personality took over, and he felt nothing again.

Oh, how he wished his other personality took over now. Then he wouldn’t be able to feel the crippling fear resonating throughout his entire body. Then he wouldn’t be able to feel the pure dread cross his face as Eren grew his missing leg back and stood up, instinctively hugging his arms behind him to make sure Falco was protected.

“I won’t hurt him,” Eren said, his visible eye dropping to the young boy staring at him with stormy blue eyes, wide with terror. He snickered. “Maybe he’ll get caught in the fallout. But, I won’t hurt him now, if that’s what you’re wondering. In fact...” He gestured with his hand for Falco to leave, giving him a chilling smile that he meant to be reassuring. “Go ahead and leave, kiddo. This shouldn’t take long. I just need to talk to my old pal Reiner here.”

“Don’t talk to him,” Reiner whispered shakily, but eventually let Falco go and pushed him forward. “Go. Run as far away as you can. I’ll handle this.” If anything happened, he wanted Falco as far away from the site of disaster as possible.

He turned back to Eren and noticed he was several inches taller than when he last saw him. It made sense; he was a grown adult man now, but it was still a shock. He was so used to peering down at Eren and resting his arm on top of his head, ruffling his hair, tipping his chin back to make eye contact with him. But now, if he slouched even a bit, he’d be shorter.

“How cute. You used to be protective over me like that,” Eren said with a bitter laugh, beginning to step forward when Reiner stepped back and nearly tripped over a chair in response. “What, are you scared of me? Ha. I remember when—”

“Stop!” Reiner cried, slapping his hands over his ears and shaking his head emphatically. “I don’t want to hear it! I don’t—”

“Don’t want to hear what, Reiner? How we used to be friends? How I looked up to you? How we shared so many good times together?” He picked up the chair he was sitting in and smashed it to the ground, the wood strewn across the ground like puzzle pieces. Reiner flinched at the echo of the crackling wood, his hands balling into fists at his sides. Eren blew the splinters off his palms and clapped them together to get rid of the rest of the debris as he walked leisurely around the room with his freshly grown leg, circling Reiner like a hawk to its prey.

“Did you feel anything when you killed Marco? Did you feel anything when I told you my mom was eaten? Knowing it was all your goddamn fault?!” Eren roared, his eye a ball of flaming green fire.

“I—”

“No, you didn’t feel anything. Because if you felt anything, you wouldn’t have tried so hard to get close to me.” Eren unraveled the bandages around his face to reveal his other eye, somehow making the fury blazing in his stare even more potent. He let the bandages drop to the ground, the fabric twisting and turning gently as they fell into a pile. Reiner blinked slowly, so slowly it would have seemed he fell asleep for a moment. He stepped forward, about to reach out to Eren when his breath hitched in his throat, his lungs refusing to expand as he was yet again face-to-face with the boy—man—he had ruined the life of and had grown close to, all at the same time.

He took a deep breath once his lungs began to function again, closing his eyes to block out Eren’s intense glare.

“I was always your friend, Eren,” he clarified, taking the chance to raise his arm up and reach out to the other man in hopes of understanding, of doing something to prevent whatever he was about to do. He flinched at the sound of applause outside, a horrifying reminder of the sheer number of people outside that Eren could so easily massacre in the span of a minute if he transformed. If only he could teleport and tell Willy to get everybody the hell out of there. But alas, he was confined to this basement with nobody other than the embodiment of the Attack Titan.

“Please believe me,” he pleaded, a hopeful yet terrified smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he watched Eren’s expression soften. “I’ve always liked you.”

But Eren’s expression wasn’t softening. It was merely morphing into one of mockery, disdain sharpening in his glare and piercing his chest like a lion’s claws ripping into its prey. He never felt weaker than at that moment.

“Don’t,” he huffed, taking a deep breath before shrieking, “ patronize me! ”

He descended upon Reiner with superhuman speed, gripping his outstretched wrist and pinning it against the wall along with the rest of his body, raising his forearm up and pressing it against Reiner’s neck. He expected Reiner to scream, grunt, curse, or exhale sharply, but the last thing he expected to hear was—

“ Ah-nn!”

It was almost comical how stiff the two men went at the sound, their eyes widening at the same time as they simply stared at each other. In awe, fright, surprise, or a mixture of all three. Reiner couldn’t gather what Eren was thinking from his unreadable expression, but all he knew was that his face was bright red, his heart was racing, and his body was being far too receptive to the heavy weight on his windpipe.

And all Eren knew was that he quickly found out that he liked this just as much as Reiner so obviously did as well.

“Did you just...moan?” Eren whispered, his eyebrow quirking in intrigue. He moved his forearm forward, pressing more of his body weight into Reiner, eliciting yet another sound of pleasure from the other’s thin lips.

“N-no— mmn!” The feeling of his windpipe and the sides of his neck being pressed in together was a feeling that left Reiner’s knees weak, his eyelids growing heavy as endorphins danced around his brain, leaving him in a state of swoon.

As Reiner struggled to stay standing, all Eren could do was stare in pure shock at the scene before him. Never had he seen Reiner come undone so quickly and so easily before, not even when he came across Bertholdt fucking him brilliantly in the outhouse during training. He looked, frankly, bored, as if he was putting on a scene for the other. Perhaps it really was a good thing the beanpole died. Now, Eren could play around with that expression of pure ecstasy without worrying that a seven-foot-tall bag of bones would try and slap him with those gangly limbs.

“Interesting…” Eren trailed off, his tongue wetting his lips as he dropped his forearm, allowing Reiner to gasp for breath and cough. The blond’s hand snaked up to his own throat, making sure it was okay, although its trail was hesitant, bewildered. Was this discovery also new to Reiner himself?

“So...this is new to you, too?” he dared to ask, his hand twitching to replace Reiner’s and uncover that never-before-seen expression on the other’s face once again.

Reiner scoffed and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the resistance his throat gave. “Shut up.”

“I mean, no wonder you always looked so bored when Bertholdt was fucking you,” Eren continued with a shrug as he looked around the room. He smirked, his eyes drifting to Reiner’s, mischief glinting conspicuously in both of them. “You needed something else to get you off.”

Reiner’s confusion was palpable, his agape mouth transforming into a sneer once he realized what Eren was talking about. His face had already been red, but now it was a deep scarlet as his mind ran back and quickly figured out that the shadow outside the window of the outhouse had, indeed, been Eren Yeager. How long had the little bastard been there? He was...busy during that time, so he lost track of the shadow outside once they changed positions. Had Eren...been watching them? Not merely passing by and getting surprised by the sight?

“I said shut the fuck up,” Reiner growled, pushing himself off the wall to leave. However, Eren’s hand clamped down on his throat, pushing him back in the wall and causing his head to thump off the concrete. “Shit!” He tried to gasp, but the force pressing against the sides of his throat was even stronger than before, with more purpose, causing his gasp to morph into a squeal.

“Did I say you could leave?” Eren murmured, leaning forward so that his lips tickled the shell of the other’s ear. He licked a trail on the outside of Reiner’s ear, causing the other to release another strained gasp and squirm under the weight of his hand. Perhaps this awakened something in him, too, because his body was reacting just like Reiner’s was. He couldn’t stop his hand no matter how much he tried; the expression and small whimpers the blond was making underneath him were like pure opium.

“Eren! Ere— oh,” Reiner cried, his clawing at Eren’s hand halting once the brunet’s lips fell to the junction of his jaw and neck, sucking feverishly at the soft skin that wasn’t taken up by his tense fingers. Once he came to after the sensation roiled him up, he exclaimed, “W-what are you doing? Eren, stop—”

“Stop?” Eren chuckled, his other hand dropping to Reiner’s crotch, which was painfully swollen and twitched as his knuckles brushed against it, drawing out a delicious moan from the throat underneath his hold. “And let you leave like this? How rude would that be of me, especially since I was the cause of this?” He paused, a pensive look replacing his devious one. “I mean, if you really want me to, I’ll stop.”

He stepped back, releasing Reiner’s throat and holding his hands up in the air. He tried to suppress the devilish grin that threatened to come out, keeping his face neutral. “I stopped.”

But it was nearly impossible to suppress the grin any longer as he watched Reiner’s expression morph from pure pleasure to confusion to, finally, loss. His trembling hands came up to reconvey the place where Eren’s hand was, an angry red bruise beginning to bloom at the sides of his neck as if trying to see if the hand was truly gone. His eyes dropped to his own crotch, wincing at the sight of it as well as, probably, the pain his constrictive pants were giving him.

“I…” Reiner was both at a loss for words. His eyes searched the room until they fell upon Eren again, a sort of pleading in them. He wanted Eren to read his mind so that he didn’t have to embarrass himself by begging do it again, please come here and choke me and fuck me— but all Eren did was stand there, which was somehow more infuriating than listening to him whisper humiliating things into his ear.

“...come here,” he mumbled, rubbing his forearm nervously. He didn’t dare make eye contact, staring down at the floor as if it’d kill him to look up and meet Eren’s undoubtedly jeering eyes.

“What? I couldn’t hear you?” Eren cupped his hand behind his ear and leaned forward, causing Reiner to suck on his teeth and ball his hands into fists at his sides.

“You’ve always been a little shit, haven’t you?” Reiner grumbled, his arm shooting out and gripping Eren’s wrist, bringing it up and guiding the other’s hand around his throat. “I said—”

“Ah-ah,” Eren interrupted, shaking his head. His hand stayed limp around Reiner’s throat, his other hand sitting comfortably in the pocket of his trousers. “You have to prove to me how much you want it.” He tipped his chin up, gazing at Reiner underneath heavy eyelids, shifting his weight onto one foot.

“Beg.”

“Wha-wha—” Reiner spluttered, his eyes wide and his grip on Eren’s wrist getting tighter and tighter. “What?” As much as he was surprised, his body very much was not. It took in the simple word like an aphrodisiac, his shoulders and cheeks getting even redder and his crotch getting even more painful.

“You heard what I said,” Eren taunted, licking his lips as he closed the gap between them, halting right before his lips. “Beg. Or else I’ll leave you like a bitch in heat.”

When had Eren grown so domineering? He had always had a certain gusto about him, some confidence that propelled him forward, even if it made him look like a loser. He didn’t give up during the ODM training even when it was clearly rigged against him. He made the broken thing work. It was pure rage that was fueling him, but...when had lust taken over? When had the fury in his eyes melted into hot ardor? Had he...always felt that way about Reiner?

“Eren…” he trailed off, trying to muster up the courage to actually beg. God, this was humiliating. How the hell did they even get here? What were they doing? But he couldn’t let Eren leave and kill all those people. And he certainly couldn’t fight in this condition. As much as it was dehumanizing, Eren was right. It felt as if he was in heat, his entire body boiling and in need of an electric touch.

“Choke me, please.”

“Yawn. Do better.”

“C-choke me, hard.” Reiner’s eyes rolled partly up as he felt the pressure of Eren’s hand growing around his neck, unable to restrain his outburst: “Harder! Please, choke me—touch me...ugh…”

The pressure had returned, and the physical incapability of speaking due to his constricted windpipe replaced his emotional incapability due to his dignity. But what dignity did he have now? All he could do now was completely let go.

“Fuck, yes! E-Eren, I—” He gasped when the pressure finally returned to its previous state, giving his body its much-needed dose of aggression. “I want you to f...f-fuck me.”

Eren chuckled, deep and dark, and before the other knew it, they were smashing lips, a violent exchange of saliva and pleasure.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he murmured against Reiner’s lips, both of them panting after the impromptu makeout session. He smirked as he slipped his other hand out of his pocket and trailed it down Reiner’s chest, stopping at his pecs and giving them a generous squeeze, earning him a grunt from the blond. “To be honest, I thought you’d come just from me choking you. Kind of pathetic, don’t you think?”

Reiner’s eyes were tightly squeezed shut, biting his bottom lip to prevent any more embarrassing sounds from slipping out.

“S-shut up.” But that couldn’t have been less convincing. The affinity for choking was new, but the chest fondling was old news. The training camp had been torture for him since there were way too many instances of people accidentally brushing against his pecs or nipples, almost causing him to rupture a blood vessel from trying to suppress a squeak.

But Eren was taking full advantage of having it right in front of him, diving his face into them and massaging them with his free hand with a voracious speed as if they’d disappear.

“These have grown a lot, haven’t they?” Eren jeered, pulling back his choking hand to strip Reiner of the top half of his clothing to be even closer to those soft pecs. The second the fabric had been removed, his choking hand returned and he dove right back in, leaving a trail of hickeys on the cleavage made by his pecs.

“Eren! E—a-ah—”

“I’d say they’re almost D cups, I think,” he continued, his voice muffled from the masses of muscle. He pulled back slightly, eyeing them for a moment before opening his mouth and clamping his teeth around the perfectly pink and perky nipple, leaving deep marks in the velvety areola.

“AH! What the—ow!” Reiner’s eyelids shot open, looking to see what the hell Eren was doing down there. All he saw was him grinning proudly, his hand coming up to stroke the bitemarks and not-so-accidentally passing over the nipple, giving it a gentle squeeze and flick. “Eren, the fuck?”

“Get down on your knees,” Eren commanded, and Reiner found himself on autopilot at the conviction in the other’s voice, his knees wobbling before dropping to the floor in compliance. He kept his eyes on Eren’s knees, his previous bashfulness returning; how could he make eye contact like this? He knew what was going to happen next: the horrendous blush on his face and chest made it quite clear.

Meanwhile, Eren was taking his time enjoying the view under him. He bit his bottom lip, letting out another chuckle as he shook his head. “You know, Reiner, I always looked up to you. I never thought I’d see you like this. So...submissive.” He tipped Reiner’s chin up gently with his finger to get the other to meet his eyes. “You never let me get the upper hand in training. You were the one making me drop to my knees.” He frowned. “But now you’re looking up to me. Funny how that works, huh? It only took the murder of an entire village of people and my mom to get you like this.”

Eren teasing him about his choking kink was humiliating. Being on his knees to somebody he saw as a little brother, about to commit even more sinful acts, was humiliating. But being constantly reminded of all the atrocities he committed against his friends was pure torture. It was putting quite a damper on his mood, but he couldn’t exactly tell Eren to stop talking about it because he’d only jeer him more. The only way he could think to get Eren to shut up was…

He dove forward, opening his mouth and wrapping his lips around the bulge in Eren’s trousers, his hand coming up to further massage it. His trousers smelled of grass and disinfectant, but the distraction was clearly working, seeing as Eren’s agape mouth stopped forming words and only allowed a shuddering breath to pass through.

“You’re eager, eh? Alright, I’ll give you what you want.” With one swift motion, he unbuckled his belt and was about to let it drop to the floor, but his eyes flashed with intrigue as they switched between Reiner’s neck and the leather. “On second thought…”

He wrapped it around Reiner’s neck, and before the blond could say anything, he zipped the belt until it was pressed tightly against the pallid skin underneath, already causing it to pinken from irritation. He poked a new hole into the leather, sliding it through and returning his hands to unbutton his trousers.

“You look like a dog,” Eren scoffed. Once his trousers were unbuttoned, he pushed them down only slightly; he didn’t expect this to take too long, seeing as how undone Reiner already was. He gripped the other’s jaw tightly in his hand, maneuvering the chiseled face to look up at him. “Bark for me.”

Reiner, who was still processing the belt around his neck, spluttered about and furiously shook his head, trying to get it out of Eren’s grip. “Hell no! I’m not a damn dog.”

“Hm. Shame.” Eren’s grip on him lessened, only for it to return full force when he transferred it from his muscled jaw to his short hair, the locks sticking straight up in between his fingers. “Then put your mouth to good use.”

Reiner was going to object, but the warmth radiating from in front of him made him drop his eyes to be faced with what looked like an iron rod underneath the linen fabric of Eren’s drawers. He gulped at the sight; if this didn’t fit in his mouth, how the hell was this going to go inside of him? He would have cursed himself for thinking that far ahead, but the act was inevitable—Eren was going to fuck his brains out.

He took a deep breath and leaned forward, pressing a hesitant kiss to the tip wetting the fabric with precum practically sticking up out of the top. He had caught flashes of Eren naked whenever they came across a hot spring or all the boys bathed together, and what was in front of him hardly compared to what he had seen back then. Eren truly had grown in more ways than one.

He shakily lifted a hand and moved the fabric out of the way, allowing Eren’s cock to spring up proudly, almost as if he was mocking Reiner and his need for it. He licked his lips and leaned forward, licking from the base to the tip with a flat tongue, practically drooling over it with the amount of need swirling in his chest.

“F...uck,” Eren groaned, tipping his chin up as his grip on Reiner’s hair tightened. “Got a lot of practice with Bertholdt, I see.”

Just at the mention of Bertholdt, Reiner sped up his stroking and licking, yet again hoping this method would get Eren to shut up and to produce more of those sounds of pleasure. Sure, he seemed to be dominant in this dynamic, but Reiner was the one who held the most power as of now. He could leave Eren blue-balled and walk away, or Eren could do the same to him. They were caught in a lustful dance of power, and neither wanted to walk away, as sinful as it was.

“Wait, you’re going too— shit!” The grip on his hair was growing painful, and it only grew tighter when he opened his mouth wide and engulfed Eren’s cock up to the middle, using his tongue all the while to lap up his drool and his hand to stroke the places his mouth couldn’t reach. He very much successfully got Eren to shut the fuck up, and he smiled to himself as he graciously lent his throat as a substitute for yelling at him to be quiet.

“What a fucking slut,” Eren chuckled, brushing the few long locks of hair that flopped into Reiner’s eyes, tipping his chin up slightly to meet his eyes. “Look at me while you do it.”

Pervert, Reiner thought, but he wasn’t all that different himself, for he looked up at lightning speed and locked eyes with the commandeering man above him, feeling precum and saliva running down his beard. That’ll be a bitch to clean.

“Good.” Just that word was enough to send chills down his spine, his eyelids fluttering with pleasure as he reached his hand that wasn’t busy stroking down between his legs, trying to soothe the throbbing pain spreading in his groin. But he was interrupted by Eren groaning and his grip on his hair turning into stone.

“Since you wanna go so fast,” he murmured, cocking his head curiously before pulling Reiner all the way down his cock, the other’s nose nestling in the happy trail leading down his stomach.

GURK!

“It’s satisfying to see you choking on me,” he laughed, tossing his head back to let out a moan as he could feel Reiner’s throat tightening and moving around him, the softness of the back of his mouth leaving him breathless. “I’ll fuck you in a second, but in the meantime…”

He gave an experimental thrust, slow and shallow, leading to more gurgling and choking noises from the man below him, drool beginning to build up in the corners of his mouth and dribble down his chin. Reiner’s hands flung out to grip Eren’s thighs, trying to process the fact that he was being facefucked.

“Mmgh—nngf!” He tried desperately to slurp up as much drool as he could, but it was beginning to pour now, down his chin and onto the floor, gathering into a pool near his knees. His eyes were watering, the tears accumulating in the corners of his eyes.

“F-fuck yeah,” Eren growled. Now equipped with more confidence, he pulled out of Reiner’s mouth partly—giving the other a short sense of relief—before snapping his hips forward, lodging himself deep down in his throat. A horrid gagging sound released itself from his throat, squeezing between his cheeks and Eren’s cock. His stomach dry-heaved, but he had hardly any time to recuperate before Eren launched back into thrusting himself over and over into his mouth.

“Hah— fuck, this is good,” he groaned, a smirk ever-present on his lips. He could feel Reiner’s throat straining against the belt as it expanded, which only provided even more tightness. However, his smirk disappeared once he felt a familiar warmth building up in his stomach, signaling he was almost at his end. He lowered his head from the thrown-back position it had been in before, and he almost finished on the spot when he saw the lewdness on Reiner’s face. The blond was beet red, his cheeks looking as if he had been slapped over and over—which he had somewhat been, with Eren’s stomach—his mouth berry red and stretched to accommodate the cock he was sucking so deliciously, gobs of spit running down his chin, and tears trailing down those highlighter-red cheeks. God, he looked gorgeous.

“Well,” he mumbled, pulling out of Reiner’s mouth and allowing him a moment to breathe and cough out all the phlegm and irritation gathered up in his throat. He only added more spit to the pool in front of him, falling onto hands and knees as he spat out the last of the spit and precum that accumulated in his throat.

Eren let out an exasperated breath, rolling his eyes as he buried his hand in Reiner’s hair again and roughly tugged him up to his feet, the other whining and complaining the entire way. He faced the blond for only a second before turning him around to face the wall and shoved him against it, his chest pressed against the cold stone. While his hand was busy holding Reiner’s wrists together behind his back, the other trailed down to grip his ass, giving it a firm squeeze before slipping it underneath the waistband of his trousers.

“Your mouth pussy was fantastic, but I want to use the real one,” he explained, his lips leaving the tip of Reiner’s ears bright red as he stroked the soft skin underneath his hand and cupped the mounds of well-built muscle. “What a bubble butt. Heh, you really worked hard on this. If your muscles are this tight, I can’t imagine your asshole.”

“Mm!” Reiner whimpered, his shoulders hiking up to his ears to protect them from the assault of Eren’s hot breath and humiliating words. He tried to break free from Eren’s grip on his wrists, to no avail. Both his wrists and his neck were restricted, and although it was uncomfortable, it only made the throbbing ache in his pants even more painful. How he developed this kink, he had no idea—all he knew was that he wanted relief, now. “Eren...Eren, please. Fuck me. Ple—guh— ”

“Shut up for a second,” Eren commanded as he forced two fingers into Reiner’s already heavily lubricated mouth, sopping up the spit dripping from the roof of his mouth and tongue. He shuddered at the feeling of Reiner’s soft tongue wrapping around his fingers, amazed that such a thing was on his cock only a few moments ago and even more amazed that he didn’t come on the spot. He used his thumb to push Reiner’s pants down to his ankles, marveling at the view of his back muscles rippling under his pale skin, fighting against the restraining grip on his wrists, followed by the elegant slope into the two golden apples for an ass.

“Goddamn,” he breathed, lowering his head and opening his mouth to deliver a deep bite to the virgin skin at the nape of Reiner’s neck, sinking his canines into the flesh in an almost animalistic motion, causing Reiner to jolt from underneath him.

“Eren, stop with the biting!” Reiner pleaded, but he couldn’t help the whispery moan that passed through his lips at the thought of being marked.

“Sorry not sorry,” Eren replied with a snicker, resorting to leaving hickeys to further mark his presence on Reiner’s body, proudly screaming I was here and fucked him beautifully. “You clean back here?”

The mere insinuation that he wasn’t made Reiner want to turn around and snap Eren’s neck right then and there, especially considering he very much doubted Eren was. He grunted, the awkwardness of that question causing nausea to boil in his stomach.

“I...bathed for the festival earlier today,” he explained haltingly, his blush radioactive at this point. But when Eren didn’t move right away, he sighed and opened his legs slightly, wrestling one wrist free and trailing it down to his asscheek, spreading it open as a very clear invitation. “Hurry up.”

Eren’s eyes widened, and a heated smile filled out his face at the sight of Reiner coming completely undone and practically begging to get fucked. Before the spit on his fingers could dry, he spread Reiner’s cheeks with his other fingers and plunged his index and middle fingers inside, earning a squeal from the blond.

“S-slow! Slower!”

A confused look crossed Eren’s face, but he shrugged and continued to scissor Reiner open, curling his fingers against the soft walls to try and find that one spot that drove men crazy. He found out about that quickly while at the hospital, a male nurse being particularly caring and spreading his legs open to cure a patient.

“I thought you’d be looser than this,” he replied, genuinely baffled at how tightly Reiner’s grip around his fingers was. How the hell was he supposed to fit inside? They said the bottom being tight is more pleasurable, but he imagined it’d downright hurt his dick.

“You jackass, I haven’t done it in a-a wh... while,” Reiner stuttered, a grunt sneaking in between his words as he tried to accustom himself to the feeling. He was arching his back as much as possible, but he quickly discovered it could arch much more when a sudden wave of pleasure crashed over him and a lustful cry made his mouth drop.

“Found it,” Eren sang, a proud grin spreading across his lips.

“Hng-! ” was all that came out of Reiner, followed by heavy breathing and small whimpers as he tried to regulate his breathing, but it was difficult when Eren ruthlessly continued abusing that spot now that he knew its location. “Eren...it feels...a-ah…”

“My fingers are magic, I know,” he replied with a shit-eating grin, and although Reiner’s back was to him, he could feel the bratty expression he was making.

“Oh, shut up, you idiot,” Reiner groaned, about to insult the other once more before another wave of pure pleasure corrupted him and returned him to his panting, sweating state.

After a few more moments of scissoring and dirty talk, Eren pulled out his fingers, much to Reiner’s dismay, and gripped himself as he stepped closer and lined himself up with Reiner’s entrance.

“Alright, get ready,” he joked, bracing the wall with one hand and snaking the other around Reiner’s neck once more, pulling his head back so that he could see the look of shock in his eyes as he slowly pushed the tip inside.

“Ngh!” Tears were gathering at the corners of Reiner’s eyes again as he attempted, again and again, to relax and breathe the pain away, but it didn’t help that Eren was so well-endowed. “Just...slow—go slowly.”

Eren pulled out at a snail’s pace, looking down to see where they connected before pushing back in, earning a low groan from both the men. “I don’t even have to try. You’re so tight, I can’t fucking move. Feels like my dick is going to be pulled off.”

Reiner rolled his eyes, about to say something until a sigh interrupted him as Eren continued to pull out and push inside, staying at the same pace. “I can’t control that. I hope your dick gets pulled off. Maybe then you wouldn’t be a murderous basta— hngh!”

A slap echoed in the small room from Eren giving one solid thrust, the roughness of it seen from the reddening of Reiner’s ass. He chuckled at the other’s reaction and tightened his grip on his neck, the belt making it a lot easier to yank him back and force him to meet his eyes. “Watch your words, Braun. Or else,” he gave another rapid thrust, causing the fat on Reiner’s ass to ripple from the force, “that will happen.”

“O-okay, okay, I’m d-done!” Reiner cried, his arm reaching back to grip Eren’s shirt for leverage while the other clung to the wall for dear life. “I promise, I’ll s...nngh...stop.”

“That’s what I thought,” Eren taunted, licking a trail up Reiner’s cheek, picking up the salty tears spilling from his eyes along the way. “You think I can move now without losing my dick?”

Reiner didn’t answer. All he did was lower his head as much as he could with Eren’s grip on it, preparing himself to lose the small ounce of dignity he still had left. He arched his back and pushed back onto Eren’s cock, gasping at the feeling of it spreading him apart and leaving him so perfectly full. He swirled his hips, trying to find that spot Eren so easily discovered, all the while pulling out and swirling his hips as he pushed back. It was quite the ab workout, causing sweat to build up on his hairline and building a thin sheen on his skin.

This was heaven on Earth. The view was spectacular, but what was more spectacular was watching Reiner act like a complete slut, as if Eren’s cock was the only thing that could bring him relief and pleasure. He was really willing to give up all his dignity just to use it to pleasure himself, and Eren couldn’t have been more willing of a participant.

“I guess that’s the answer to my question,” he breathed, a moan causing him to throw his head back. He dropped both his hands to Reiner’s hips, riding alongside their gyrating motions. “Yeah...that’s nice. Keep moving like that.”

“Eren,” Reiner warned, looking over his shoulder now that his neck was freed. “Eren, move, goddamn it.”

Eren cocked his head. “Is that how you ask for it?”

“Oh, for fuck’s—Eren, please, fuck me. Ruin me, do what you want, just please fuck m— ”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” It only took half a second for Eren to comply with Reiner's wishes, snapping his hips forward and sending Reiner careening toward the wall, his face pressed up against the stone just like his chest was. He’d definitely have scrapes on his face as it bounced up and down with each merciless thrust that practically sent him up the wall.

“ Ahn—ugh! Fuck, fuck, yes! Feels good, f-feels so—hnngh! ” The dry slapping noises eventually turned into wet, squelching sounds that would have made Reiner cringe, but he could barely hear them in the fugue state he was in. Eren was right: he felt like a dog in heat, his mind on nothing else but getting pounded until he was filled.

“Faster! God, faster! Ngh, harder!”

Reiner’s moans leaked, and as much as he wanted to stop, he didn’t have the energy since all of it was going into not finishing right then and there. It was just what he needed, except…

He tilted his head back, which was difficult with how roughly Eren was slamming into him, but he eventually caught Eren’s eye and smiled. “Choke me, Eren. Choke me until I can’t breathe.”

Eren smiled back, his grin malicious. “You got it, sweetheart.”

He took that command to heart because instead of one hand this time around, he used both hands, wrapping them around Reiner’s neck and using that for leverage instead of his hips. It was honestly a nicer angle to better fuck Reiner into oblivion, and he used it to his full advantage.

Smack, smack, smack, smack…

“ Guh— ugh, fu-uck,” Reiner groaned, practically gargling his own words with how he could barely breathe. Meanwhile, Eren was struggling with holding back his own moans with how velvety soft Reiner’s walls were, hugging him like the most comfortable sweater in the world. How did he go this long without taking advantage of the hole that had been around him all this time?

“I never thought you’d be this easy of a lay,” Eren remarked, graduating one hand’s place from Reiner’s neck to his hair, pulling it and pushing his face into the concrete. “Who knew you’d open up to me this easily? If I knew, I would’ve fought Bertholdt for access to your ass.”

The fog of lust clouding Reiner’s brain long enough for him to understand and process Eren’s comments, and, even though it was nearly impossible to speak anything other than moans and whines and emote anything other than pleasure, he still attempted to reach backward and scratch Eren’s hip, leaving three bright marks on the tanned skin.

“After this is over, I’m going to kill you,” Reiner managed to say when Eren stopped shortly to readjust his angle. He was very grateful for that split second of clarity because once Eren started up, instead of brushing against that spot, he was directly nailing it over and over with perfect precision.

“ OH— oh, my God, I-I’m—too much, too much, I’m so— ah, hah... c-close—!” Reiner was incoherent at this point, finally reaching the “brains fucked out” stage of this brutal hookup. He could no longer think. All he could do was moan, pant, and cry out each time his spot was abused.

“ Hah—I’m gonna come soon, t-too,” Eren breathed, having his own difficulties with speech. He tried to act as cool and collected for as long as possible, but now, it was nearly impossible, with each thrust drawing out the warm feeling in his stomach more and more. It also didn’t help that Reiner kept tightening around him with each thrust, giving him all the components to finish. He just needed one thing.

“Where do you want it?” Eren whispered, dropping his head to take advantage of the last few moments to leave more hickeys all along Reiner’s neck and collarbones.

Reiner was beyond redemption at this point, evidenced by the fact that he all but screamed out, “Inside! Please, inside, come inside, I n-need it, I need you, please, I—”

His orgasm was sudden and unexpected, but Eren hit his spot at the perfect angle and speed, causing it to rip through his body. He was left speechless, going rigid as his vision spotted before going completely white, finally receiving the release he had been chasing over the past half hour. He heard somebody wailing, and when his consciousness returned to him, he realized he was the one making that awful noise, his vocal cords frying themselves with the unadulterated ecstasy running through his system.

Eren didn’t take much longer to follow, giving a few more slams—rougher than all the ones preceding them—before coming undone deep inside Reiner, groaning at the feeling of warmth coating Reiner’s walls and making his insides even hotter than they already were. But he wasn’t done. In his state of bliss, he managed to pull out of Reiner—earning a pitiful whimper from the other—and turn him around to push down on his shoulders so that he was on his knees again.

“Fuck, fuck—fuck! ” Eren couldn’t help the countless exclamations of pleasure that racked his body as he stroked himself furiously in front of Reiner’s face. The last of his come splashed on Reiner’s face, coating his cheeks and the bridge of his nose in the milky white substance. Yet again, he wasn’t done. He smeared the tip across Reiner’s lips, painting them with the same glossy color. And with that, he was done, stepping back to admire his handiwork. He grinned, satisfied with the result.

He had completely ruined Reiner Braun. His hair was tangled and sticking out in all different places. His eyes were red from crying. His face was completely coated in sticky, hot semen. He could barely open his lips without it stringing between them. Tears stained his splotched cheeks, and dried saliva ran down the entirety of his chin and throat. His chest was red as well, full of bite marks and hickeys. His neck was a completely different story—it was probably rubbed raw and full of scratches and finger indentations, all of which were hidden under the belt. And then…

“Turn around for me and bend over,” Eren said, his last demand of the night.

He had evidently turned Reiner into an obedient subordinate because without a single complaint or hesitation, the blond nodded submissively and turned around, revealing his back that was full of scratches and the deep bite mark at the nape of his neck. To think, he’d probably be targeting that nape in a couple of minutes once again, except it’d be for the kill. He wondered if, when he’d rip Reiner from the nape of his Titan’s neck and admire his dead body, the bite mark on his neck would still be there.

Reiner bent over, lifting his ass in the air and dropping his chest and face to the floor, a look of pure embarrassment on his soiled face.

“Beautiful,” Eren whispered to himself as he watched his come pour out of Reiner’s hole, running down his leg and dripping onto the ground. “Satisfied?”

Reiner, from his docile place on the floor, nodded his head, his hair flowing back and forth on the ground. “Y-yes...thank you…”

He then collapsed to the floor, his hips no longer able to sustain his own weight. His legs were trembling, never having experienced such a savage fucking before. It had always been loving, sweet, slow. But he quickly found that he had been severely deprived of something he so desperately needed. He’d probably get brain damage from all the choking he was going to do in the future, but that didn’t matter. He already planned on dying soon, anyway.

“I’m going...to kill you...after this,” Reiner continued, severely out of breath.

Eren walked over silently, squatting down and brushing the hair out of Reiner’s sweaty and dirtied face. “I’d like to see you try. You can barely walk.”

He laughed and pat Reiner on the rear, standing back up and walking over to the exit as he fixed his trousers and buttoned them.

“But thanks for the good fuck. I needed that. Honestly, if I hadn’t made everybody from Paradis come rescue me today, I’d save this battle for another day. I’m feeling very…” He lifted up his hands, looking at his nails and running his fingers through his hair. “...relaxed right now.”

Reiner was half-asleep, but he was conscious enough to have heard Eren’s words loud and clear. He snapped his head up and turned to stare at Eren to see if what he heard was the truth, but all he was met with was Eren adjusting his shirt and tightening his hair into a bun.

“P-Paradis?”

“Yeah. Heh.” Eren looked over his shoulder and winked. “I’ll catch you out there, then. If you manage to survive, come to Paradis. I’ll give you a very special welcome.”

And with that, Eren Yeager exited the room heavy with the smell of sex and quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Reiner Braun was left alone—used and besmirched with a fucked-out mind—to mull over what just happened and what will happen in only a handful of minutes.

Eren fucking Yeager.

#attack on titan #aot fanfiction #eren jaeger #eren yeager #reiner braun #eren x reiner #smut #aot smut #fanfiction

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softyoongiionly · 4 years

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Portraits of a Tiger|| 01

Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.

And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.

Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut (later), Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: language, depictions of violence both verbal and physical however they are fairly mild, mentions of war and power dynamics, there will be smut in future parts so, (18+ only please).

Current Tag List: @bulletproofbirdy @gldnrecs @naajix @bluewhale52 @nikkikenji�� @lustedkisses

A/N: oh okayyyyy HELLO!!! Its here!!! Warrior! Yoongi is finally emerging from the depths of my writer blocked brain and I am SO happy you get to meet him. Once again, this series will be posted in parts just as Mama Mia! is and it may not necessarily follow a linear timeline.

Also, I know I mentioned her in the tag list post but, SERIOUSLY you guys this story would not be possible without my wonderful friend @bulletbroofbirdy aka Rachel who has literally spent so much time dreaming up with wonderful universe with me. My sweet angel, you are the greatest in the world and I love you. Please go follow Rachel and send her all the love in the universe and thank her for her genius brain because, without her, this fic wouldn’t exist.

War.

It’s not an uncommon occurrence where you’re from.

The ever-present shifting of the borderlines is a constant reminder of the struggle for power.

Many see it as a valiant effort, a noble cause...

But, war is something that doesn’t appeal to you.

It doesn’t sit right with your perspective on the world.

Sure, you understand it’s strengths and why it could be seen as necessary.

However, the consequences of war, of violence- never seem to be worth it.

Death.

It’s not an uncommon occurrence where you’re from.

When war is constantly raging on the background, it should be expected.

It should be normal.

To most of your district, it is.

To you?

Every single rise in the death toll sends icy despair into your heart.

Every drop of blood spilled feels as though it’s your own.

You’re desperate to find the solution for peace but, you know it’s not that simple.

Man is never content.

The struggle for power is never ending.

As you grow up, you learn to adapt.

Learning a trade is the easiest way to establish yourself so, you take up knitting and medicine.

You sell your wears and remedies in the market every other day and spend your off days replenishing the stock that you sold.

Your parents live comfortably but in order for them to do so, you’re in the market for hours on end.

Today starts as any other.

You’re gathering your wears in your family’s home as the sun is beginning to peak over the mountains.

The colors it throws through your window are breathtaking and, if you weren’t so exhausted, you’d be able to enjoy them a bit more.

Thankfully, your preparations don’t wake your parents as they sleep soundly in their bed.

You wish for nothing more than for them to be at peace every chance they get.

They have sacrificed so much.

The market displays its usual scenery.

The fishermen are always first setting up their catches from the evening prior, the butchers are hanging up their kills from the overnight hunt whilst the farmers arrange seasonal produce on their carts...

You always have your cart near the end of the market.

It’s easier for people to think about softer things such as knitted blankets or healing elixirs once they’ve purchased their food.

Thankfully, business is decent.

Your wares are well-made and your elixirs have an exceptional success rate.

The prices are fair so you attract all walks of life but, you focus more on serving the lower class folk such as yourself.

One of the fisherman, who you’ve grown acquainted with over the last few months, nods to your cart as you’re setting it up.

“What do you have today __?”

With a smile, you hold up a mauve woolen blanket which you’ve spent nearly two weeks on.

“This is the item of the day. I used a root dye to get the color- what do you think?”

He purses his lips, nodding in consideration, “I’m sure someone will snag that right away. It looks warm. It will be very useful over the next few months. Do you have any of that uh- “ Lowering his voice, he cranes his neck to assess whether or not any of his team can hear him, “ginseng mixture that you sold to me last week?”

You bite back a smirk as you nod towards the woven basket containing your various medicines, “I do. I made a new batch last night. Did you need some?”

A rapid nod is sent your way along with a handful of coins, “Thanks. It worked wonders last time. My wife sends her gratitude.”

Your cheeks heat up immediately but given that you’ve heard worse things in the market place, you merely giggle and file your payment away.

Ginseng is a natural stimulant that you often recommend to men experiencing issues with sex or fertility. Whilst you completely stand by its effectiveness, you won’t deny that it’s slightly awkward working with the men you’ve helped. Especially since they often insist on loudly announcing how many times they had sex the night before.

The rest of the setup goes smoothly and by the time the sun fully takes its place in the sky, you are ready for the market to open.

As your adjusting the sign on the front of your cart, you hear an interesting bout of conversation ignite in front of you

“Did you hear? The Royal Army is arriving today to refuel.”

“You’re lying. Are you serious? Do they- do you think they have him with them?”

“Of course! They aren’t stupid enough to travel without him. They’d be ambushed immediately.”

“Yah, what are you talking about?”

“The Tiger. He’s coming through town today.”

Instantly, your heart stalls in your chest.

You try your best to appear unbothered but, it doesn’t stop the panic from seeping into your bones.

The Tiger and the fleet of warriors he oversees are well-known in your village.

Word of mouth is truly a powerful mechanism for spreading information and, stories of The Tiger had been circulating for quite sometime.

They started out simply depicting a powerful new recruit into the Royal Army.

Despite his initial inexperience, The Tiger quickly rose through the ranks due to his otherworldly fighting skills.

According to the rumors, The Tiger was known for his silent destruction.

By the time his enemies could grasp what was happening, The Tiger and his men had already completed their mission.

They had already killed, maimed or destroyed whatever they were after.

A recent success had led to The Tiger becoming the General of the largest fleet in the Royal Army.

From what you had gathered, he wasn’t much older than you so the fact that he essentially lead an entire army is quite impressive.

However, given the stories of his cruel and cold blooded nature, it makes a lot of sense.

“I heard he beheads the enemy general on the battlefield after he wins...”

“I heard he killed 3,000 men all on his own in the middle of a thunderstorm!”

“I heard he keeps a viper on him at all times and he sets it loose on anyone he disobeys him!”

“I heard that he never sleeps.”

“Do you think he’ll come here? Would he be seen out in public like that?”

“Why wouldn’t he? He has nothing to fear, there isn’t a single soul in this village who could take him on.”

“Plus, he never travels alone. He’ll have his men with him.”

With a snort, you continue displaying your cart as normal and, only then do you realize that you stand out amongst the other merchants.

Every single one of them has an offering for the warriors.

It’s not customary to do so and, you’re only viable guess is that it has something to do with the market fawning over this tiger character.

“Were we supposed to put something out?” You murmur to the woman beside you, brows knitting in confusion.

She chuckles heartily, “When a normal fleet enters, no. We usually just offer them food and the resources we can spare.” A bit of excitement flashes through her eyes as she adjust the basket of radishes on her cart, “However, this is no ordinary fleet. I suggest you put something out too dear, that pretty face of yours could land you husband on the Tiger’s army, any one of his men would be a worthy mate. They aren’t shooting blanks like my husband over here!”

Her body jostles with laughter as she shoves her hand up against the man beside her, who looks whole-heartedly unamused.

“Jane, please...” He grumbles

You can’t help the grimace that comes across your face when Jane mentions finding a husband but, it’s quickly replaced with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

“I have something for that.” You offer in a hushed tone and, the man seems to unfurl from his submissive position as he offers a meek smile.

“You do?”

You don’t have time to answer him before the mood of the market shifts into quiet chaos.

“I think they’re coming!” The fisherman whispers frantically, adjusting the sign on his cart for the millionth time.

As much you hate to give in to the hype, you feel compelled to go with the flow and, put something out for the warriors.

You settle on a basket of your most popular anti-inflammatory ailment that’s proven to be quite effective amongst your customers.

The long strips of white wood are haphazardly placed into a woven basket as you brace your ears for the piercing sound of trumpets.

Magnificent as the musicians in your village are, the blaring cacophony of noise is far from something you wish to be apart of this early in the morning.

However, the noise never comes.

The gates open up as normal as a reasonable size crowd begins meandering throughout the market.

You turn towards Jane with confusion painting your features, “Where’s the music?”

Jane is adjusting her radishes once again, glancing eagerly towards the crowd of people, “The Tiger does not allow fanfare of any kind. A far away village defied his orders once and played for him and his fleet anyway and- well...” She smirks bemusedly, “it didn’t end well for them, so we respect his wishes.”

Your eyes widen at that as you nod, swallowing back any fear that threatens to crawl up your throat.

“Got it.”

The usual slew of customers begin filing in and as business begins to pick up, you slowly forget about the famous warriors that were to enter.

Roughly, an hour later, your basket of willow bark remains untouched and, you begin to consider putting it back in its normal place. This particular bark is quite annoying to obtain and you don’t feel great about giving it away to some warrior after you’ve spent hours trying to procure it.

However, as you glance at other offering baskets, you notice that some of them have been emptied.

This means of course that either your fellow merchants put their offerings away or, the warriors are already in the market.

A strange and unsettling feeling washes over you at the thought of deadly warriors perusing throughout town. You expected that they would be recognizable, especially given their reputation but, nothing seems to give away their presence.

As a paying customer leaves your cart with an armful of various items, you notice something that normally doesn’t garner your attention: hair.

You see it amongst the crowd, peeking over the tops of heads.

It’s a shimmering icy platinum and it’s tied up atop a strangers head with a beaded string. It moves throughout the crowd slowly, stopping at various points, likely exchanging words with another merchant before you finally make out the face it belongs to.

A man dressed in cotton linens maneuvers out of the crowd, dark eyes scanning his surroundings almost anxiously. As he moves closer to you, you’re able to fully take in his features.

Pointed and smooth, his face is the epitome of contradiction.

Deep brown eyes, rounded button-nose, pouty lips and strong eyebrows adorn his face whilst his rather large hand flexes instinctually towards the object hanging off of his hips.

It’s a sword.

This man certainly isn’t a civilian.

Unfortunately, you’re unable to ignore the beauty he possesses. He is quite ethereal once you get a closer look at him; you don’t think you’ve ever seen another person that looks quite like him.

As he speaks with the fisherman, your ears perk up to in an attempt to hear the sound of his voice.

Faintly, you can discern a bit of rasp and calculation in his tone but, you aren’t able to absorb it over the sound of the market.

Its then you realize that you’ve been staring at this stranger for far too long and, if you’re ever going to meet your quota today, you need to avoid distractions.

You sell another one of your blanket moments later, increasing your daily total by a reasonable amount. Making blankets is enjoyable yes but, it’s extremely time consuming so it feels good when someone rewards you for your hard work.

“Please have some radishes! They’re grown in top soil from the northern region! It gives them a certain uh- “ Jane’s shrill voice pulls your attention towards her cart which now brandishes a new visitor: the stranger with the blonde hair.

You're realizing that Jane is pausing mid-sentence because, she is desperately looking to you for answers.

You've assisted Jane with her produce before as she was having trouble with the flavor of some of her vegetables. This was mainly due to the fact that she had been using the wrong kind of fertilizer but, you had also given her several tips to improve the overall taste of her produce.

“A certain crunch...” You finish for her, stabilizing your tone as you brave a glance towards the man. “The mixture of the soils helps with the texture.”

His feline gaze rushes towards you at the sound of your voice, as if he wasn’t expecting you to speak.

At the sight of you, his lips part momentarily before quickly sealing in a tight lipped smile which directs toward Jane.

“Thank you.” He nods toward her as he takes one of the radishes and tucks it into the pocket of his linen pants.

“Of course! Um thank you- sir for your...services...” She stutters and it’s then you notice that she hasn’t made eye contact throughout the entirety of their conversation.

A bit of discomfort flashes through his eyes but otherwise, he merely grunts in acknowledgement.

Jane’s comment is the last bit of confirmation you need that this man is indeed a warrior.

However, his reaction to her words strikes you as odd. Warriors rarely shy away from gratitude. They are often proud and boastful regarding their positions but, he seems to be bothered by what she said.

The man never looks back at Jane as he makes his way to the next cart. Every so often, you notice him looking over his shoulder or glancing towards the entrances/exits of the market. His presence doesn’t necessarily make you uneasy but, his behavior sure does.

He acts as though he is in danger.

It puts you on edge but, you direct your attention back to the customer in front of you.

“Good morning.” You smile, “Anything catch your eye?”

The man cards a hand through his salt and pepper hair as he leans over your cart, eagerly scanning the items you have on display.

“Eh do you have anything for dry skin? With winter around the corner, I gotta start thinking about this old skin of mine. The wind does a lot of damage on my knuckles.”

“You know what? I think I have just the thing...” You bend down to access the crate beneath your counter and grab a medium sized glass bottle, “This is an olive oil and honey treatment, it will treat dry skin immediately but, it’s meant to treat dry skin over a longer period of time too. I also-” You bend down once more to grab a tin of cocoa butter and place it on the counter top, “have this. This should help with daily wear and tear. You only need a little bit so this tin should last you through the winter.”

The man smiles eagerly and quickly reaches for his pockets before he freezes. You don’t notice until you look up from your counter but, the platinum haired warrior is back and, he’s standing right behind your customer.

“O-Oh go ahead, go ahead. I uh- I'll go next...” The man stutters, gesturing frantically to your cart.

With a quirked brow the warrior moves to step in front of him until you raise your hand.

“No sir, it’s ok. You’re in the middle of a transaction.” You insist, eyeing the warrior sternly, “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

The immediate crowd surrounding your cart seems to pause, nervously glancing towards the warrior who merely nods and steps back into place.

The shock is apparent on the faces of the crowd but you ignore it and send a reassuring smile towards your customer, “Ok, that will be 11.50 and-” You slide a bundle of rosemary towards him, “take this too, on the house. Brew it in some hot water to aid digestion, winter food tends to be a bit harsher on the system.”

The man swallows nervously, dragging his items toward his chest, “Thank you—uh so much. Thank you.” He turns towards the warrior, directing his gaze towards his feet as he bows his head, “Thank you for your service...”

The man doesn’t allow the warrior time to respond before he rushes off back into the crowd but, you get the feeling that it wouldn’t matter regardless.

The warrior doesn’t seem interested in anyone’s gratitude.

“Let me know if you have any questions.” You nod your head towards him, pushing the basket with your offering towards the edge of the counter before busying yourself with putting a few things back in their place.

He says nothing but, he approaches the counter whilst his eyes shrewdly observe the ins and outs of your set up.

He’s even more striking up close. His smooth, tan skin is mostly unmarked except for the giant scar running down the center of his right eye. It goes up the center of his eyelid and disappears right above the center of his brow. It’s still red and angrily risen against his otherwise angelic looking face.

A warrior indeed.

The bit of people around your cart haven’t stopped their staring but, they are at least making an attempt to look like they aren’t paying attention. It doesn’t stop you from wishing that you didn’t have an audience.

“Tree bark?” He questions with an arch to his brow

You look towards the basket he’s gesturing to before returning your gaze back to his.

“White willow bark.” You correct, almost defensively and it cause his lips to twitch.

“Is this some kind of decoration?”

You shake your head, placing your fingers on the edge of the basket, “No. It’s meant to be chewed. It reduces inflammation. I figured it would be useful since I imagine you deal with muscle soreness quite often.”

He smirks, “Amongst other things yes,” With long elegant fingers, he points to the basket, “So- if I chew on this, I should feel relief from any pain I might be experiencing?”

An all too rapid nod comes from you as you continue your explanation, “Well it’s mainly used to treat pain in your muscles and joints. If you’re looking to treat other types of pain, I have other options...”

He shakes his head, his hair swishing to the side as he does, “This should do, thank you.”

You suspect that he’s done, given that the bark is (annoyingly) free and he’s only seemed to be interested in the offerings thus far so, he surprises you when he asks yet another question.

“Do you have any more of that salve?”

“Of course,” You offer him a smile now that the initial tension is starting to lift, “Did you want a big tin or small tin?”

He purses his lips in thought, looking towards his hands, “What do you recommend?”

Without a second thought, you step towards him and take one of his hands, bringing it closer to your face for inspection.

The man seems to freeze in place, eyes widening in absolute shock, his own limb betraying him as it goes limp.

His hand displays evidence of the life he lives.

Rough, calloused and blistered...

His nails are bitten down to a point that almost looks painful but, the thing that stands out the most is how beautiful his hand is to you.

The strength in his skin is palpable and the indigo veins protruding against his hand are a firm reminder of what he is likely capable of.

What you don’t notice however, is the utter panic that flushes across his face or the way his eyes dart nervously between you and his hand.

Just as you would during any consultation, you briefly run your fingers over the palm of his hand and up the length of each of his fingers

“Hmm I would recommend the big tin, I think...you have a lot of rough spots but the skin between your callouses is quite smooth so,” You carefully set his hand back onto the counter and return your eyes back to his, “what that tells me is that your skin is roughened by your environment rather than by an actual lack of moisture.” You slide the big tin towards him, “Apply this to the dryer areas as needed throughout the day but, every night before you go to bed, make sure to put this on. Sleeping with it will allow it to seep into your skin and heal the dryness over time.”

The warrior’s eyes are transfixed on you and for a moment he is completely speechless, his hand lingering on the counter before hurriedly places them back at his side.

He can’t understand you and why you just touched him.

But what’s worse, is he can’t understand why his mouth is suddenly dry.

Or why his skin is on fire...

Or why his heart is thrashing around in his chest.

He clears his throat and nods, “Very good. I’ll be sure to follow your instructions.” He sticks the hand you didn’t touch into his pocket, fishing around for something, “What’s my total?”

“That will be 3.50.” You say with a smile, holding out your hand.

He dispenses his payment into your palm before stowing his items away in his free pocket.

“Thank you.” He grunts, the hand you touched still kind of awkwardly lingering away from his body.

Was he going to wash it as soon as he got the chance?

Did you smell weird?

“Of course, have a nice day. Safe travels.” With a wave, you send him off, missing the small smile that momentarily appears on his face.

You’re genuinely relieved that the encounter is over but, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t intrigue you.

Before you’re able to get your bearings and move on, Jane is rushing over to you frantically.

“What on Earth was that??? Do you know him??? Why didn’t you tell me you knew him?!” She swats your arm, her eyes wide with incredulity.

“Ow!” You grip your arm, “What are you talking about?”

The man has already disappeared back into the crowd but, you’re still attempting to keep your voice at a reasonable level.

Jane does not follow suit.

“You just put your hands on the Tiger!” Jane shrieks causing you to recoil in response, “He could kill you for that! What were you thinking?”

“He’s going to kill me because I touched his hand?” Your brow arches in amusement, as your lips threaten to smile, “I had no idea who he was Jane, I was just helping a paying customer.”

She doesn’t like your answer and quickly swats your arm again, “Y/N this is not a joke! He’s a dangerous man. I nearly fainted when you looked him in his eyes but, then you touched him and-”

“Jane, that’s enough.” The fisherman hisses, gesturing wildly to the crowd of people, “You’re making a scene and he’s still out here somewhere.”

She huffs her hands rushing to smooth out the apron over her dress before rushing a finger into your face, “You won’t be laughing if he shows up at your house with a sword in your face. You need to be careful.”

You smirk at this but otherwise comply, not wishing to fire her up any further, “Thank you for your concern Jane, I’ll make sure to carry my sword around too, you know, just in case.”

Jane snorts then and rolls her eyes, scurrying back to her cart and mumbling something along the lines of:

“That mouth is going to get you killed...”

You can’t help but giggle.

There’s no doubt that the man you just spoke to was a warrior and, maybe he was some almighty warrior but he other than an intense staring problem, he didn’t scare you at all.

Thankfully, business is booming for the remainder of the day and although you’re thrilled at the money you’ll be taking home, you aren’t looking forward to all the replenishing you have to do.

The last order of business before heading home is picking a few things for your parents and grabbing the last of the steamed buns for your best friend.

Rachel has lived beside you ever since you can remember. The two of you spent most of your childhood running around the village, causing mini bouts of chaos everywhere you went. Despite the challenges life had brought the both of you, you grew together rather than apart.

Rachel is the village’s most treasured teacher and she’s been running the school for the past few years. She’s kind of the best and, you have a feeling she’ll be interested to hear about the rather interesting events that had transpired over the course of your day.

As you turn down the dirt path towards her home, you start to wonder where the Tiger and his fleet would be staying.

Your village wasn’t run-down but it wasn’t exactly luxurious by any standards.

The rubble near the beginning of the street along with the various empty wooden barrels doesn’t exactly count as décor and, the occasional drunken argument outside the village’s tavern certainly doesn’t add any class to the area but, its home.

Rachel's house is easy to spot amongst the rest of the street as it’s the only one completely covered in plants.

She’s had a love of greenery for quite sometime and, it’s amongst the many things you two bond over.

Adjusting the bag on your shoulder, you immediately reach for the handle and use all your weight to shove the front door open.

Rachel is sitting on her sofa and despite the fact that she was expecting you, she still jumps at the sound.

“Oh my goodness!” She exclaims “Have you ever heard of knocking???”

You giggle but otherwise ignore her and lean against the door dramatically, “Rachel, you better get one last look at me because, this might be the last time you ever see me.”

She laughs lightly and folds her arms, “What did you do this time? Did you call the apothecary a fraud again?” Wiggling her fingers, she reaches out for the snacks your holding.

“Ok first of all, he is a fraud but no....it’s much much worse.�� You shove the snacks into her awaiting hands before flopping down on the armchair, “I touched a man’s hand...”

She freezes, the bun lingering near her mouth, “Alright, now I am officially curious, why is hand touching worse?”

You smirk, “I touched...the Tiger’s hand” You point a finger at her quickly as her lips part, “Before you even make the joke, no it wasn’t a real tiger...it was THE tiger.”

Rachel snorts with laughter before going wide-eyed in shock, “You...wha--the Tiger? THE Tiger??? You TOUCHED the Tiger?!!?!? What were you thinking?!? Oh my god, did he bite? Wait, focus, Rachel---Why did you touch the Tiger?!?”

Whilst she’s rambling on you burst out in a fit of giggles, snuggling back against the chair, “He came to my cart looking for a good salve for his hands. All I did was do an assessment as I normally do to see what he needed. I don’t understand why everyone is freaking out...he seemed pretty harmless to me.”

She leans forward on the couch, “Harmless? He seemed...harmless?!?” She whispers frantically, “He has personally slain hundreds of men with those very hands!!!

“Why are we whispering?...”

Rachel returns to normal volume, rolling her eyes “Fine. More like thousands if you count how many his army has obliterated. And you just pawed at him--are you insane? He has killed people for less! At least that’s what the rumors say.”

You keep giggling, completely unfazed as you make yourself at home, “The rumors also say that he killed an entire village because they played their trumpets for him. I don’t know how credible these rumors are.”

“Well....what was he like then? You cannot drop this information on me and not give me every detail.” She insists, gesturing wildly at you before leaning back and sipping from her mug.

“Uh he was fine. I mean- he was normal I guess, I don’t know. He has really long hair, its blonde- like really blonde. He looks young, way younger than I thought he’d be. He has a big scar over his eye. Jane was practically drooling over him...”

Realization crosses Rachel’s face as she watches you intently. She relaxes back into her chair as a knowing smile spreads across her face, “Ohhhh young, blonde, mysterious...Jane must really HAVE been drooling. Seems like she’s not the only one, though...”

“I mean- the fisherman guys were pretty excited too I guess. I don’t know what the big deal is honestly, I know he’s supposed to be good on the battlefield but they were treating him like he was some kind of king or something.” You narrow your eyes “Are you suggesting I was drooling over him? Because I definitely wasn’t...I even told him to wait his turn in line.” You insist, shifting around on the chair.

Rachel crosses her legs dramatically, steeping her fingers as she observes you, “Was that before or after you found out he was handsome? Hmm?” She smirks again, holding her hands up innocently, “I am implying nothing, I am just NOTICING that you are definitely affected by him. I haven’t seen you impressed by....well, anyone.”

She’s not wrong.

“Hey hey whoa...who said anything about impressed?? I’m not impressed. I’m not impressed at all.”

Rachel eyes you suspiciously”...right...not impressed at all. Well, did you at least hear anything about them? Any word on how long the army will be here? We’ve got to be the safest village in the country as long as they are in town.” Suddenly, she facepalms in realization, “My students will be so distracted as long as they are here.”

“Not impressed. He’s just a man with a scar and sword...” You insist, twiddling your thumbs “I guess they are just refueling, I’m not sure how long they will be here. Jane told me I need to watch my back so, hopefully not for long...” You giggle again, thinking of how excited the schoolchildren will be now that the legendary Tiger is in town, “maybe you can make an assignment out of it...”

She stares off into space for a moment and mutters, “that’s not a bad idea...we could get outside, maybe a soldier could come speak to them? There’s got to be at least one that’s not terrifying?...” Rachel shakes her head, unimpressed with your lack of understanding, “Just a man with a scar and sword—he is the most feared military leader of our generation! And I wouldn’t worry TOO much about watching your back. After all—none of the legends involve the Tiger killing civilians, do they? At the very least his presence here means good business for the village. If you can get the Tiger as a repeat customer I can only imagine the profits you’ll turn at that little stall!” She muses, laugh heartily, “Buy the salve that soothed a beast! I can hear the gossip already...”

You point a finger at her, “I like the way you think. If you ever want to stop educating and enriching the minds of our youth and be my business partner, let me know...” Suddenly the humor within you dissipates as the reality of your situation seems to sink in, “You don’t think I should be worried though right?”

Rachel lets out a short laugh, “Thanks for the offer...” She shakes her head, “As far as this Tiger business is concerned...I don’t think your safety is under any threat. How did he react when you touched him? Did he seem angry?”

“He just froze...” You recall, your eyes unfocusing slightly, “It was kind of weird honestly. I’ve never had anyone do that before. It’s pretty normal to get checked out during an apothecary visit. I guess I wasn’t supposed to look at him either but, how the hell am I supposed to do an exam if I can’t look at his face?”

“Hmmm...that is strange. I’ll be honest, I thought he would have scolded you or pulled away based on the stories. Unless...” Rachel slumps back against her sofa, her face relaxing into a smirk, “...he was just as surprised by you as you were of him.”

You wrinkle your nose, “Ew no. Definitely not.”

Rachel doesn’t look convinced but you continue nevertheless, suddenly wishing to change the subject.

“He looked nervous I guess- I don’t know. His hand just sort of hung there after I finished. Today was weird...anywayyy-” You nod to the dough between your palms, “How are the buns? Did anything interesting happen in the education world.”

“Oh three boys got in a worm eating contest and threw up on their practice parchment so I could go without that kind of interesting for awhile. The buns are transcendent as usual but you-” She narrows her eyes in your direction, “- are dodging. Why would a general be nervous around you hmm? You said he is young...is he also handsome?”

“Ah god I love kids...” You note with a giggle before shrugging, shrinking back into the chair, “I don’t know. Objectively he- he definitely wasn’t ugly.”

Rachel raises an eyebrow, “I sense there is more to it than that.”

“Fine. He was easily the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life. There! Are you happy now?” You grumble before dramatically staring off into the distance, “Oh to be murdered by the most handsome man alive...how romantic.”

This prompts a twinkling bout of laughter from Rachel who has finally finished the first of her many snacks, “I can think of worse ends my friend. Perhaps that was your only interaction? I am sure he is busy making preparations; too busy to be executing smart-mouthed apothecaries. I wouldn’t fret too much Y/N.”

With you sigh, you accept her analysis, sending a nod her way, “You’re probably right and, that’s probably for the best.” Despite the conviction in your tone, you can feel the disappointment on your face, “Thank you for calling my mouth smart.” You smirk before nodding toward the door, “I should probably head home. My father has a nasty cough and I seriously doubt he’s taken the medicine I left for him.”

Meeting you at the door, Rachel pulls you in for a big hug, “The smartest mouth in town- that's why I keep you around. Give your father my love and tell him, if he gives you a hard time—I will find out!”

You laugh, hugging her tightly, “The second smartest mouth in town...” You insist, “let’s do the tavern this weekend please. The children have been taking all your time and I miss my best friend!”

“Of course! No pack of tiny ruffians can get between me and a night out.”

You pat her shoulder gently before stepping out of the doorframe, “That’s right.” You smile, thankful to have someone like her in your life, “love you, have a good night.”

“Good night, sleep tight...” She sings, slowly closing the door, “don’t let the Tiger bite!” She laughs wildly before slamming the door shut to prevent your retaliation.

She’s a menace.

The walk back home is pleasant, the fall breeze nips at your skin through your sweater but, it feels refreshing against your flushed cheeks.

Your parents are asleep by the time you return home.

It’s common for you to arrive well past their bedtime but, despite your lack of contact, they still manage to make you feel loved.

On the kitchen table sits bowl of stew and freshly baked bread, along with a new blanket for the winter.

Your mom makes a fresh one everywhere with thicker fabric to combat the icy freeze of the winter climate. The stew will be cold but, your heart will be warm and your stomach will be full.

In truth, these are the only things that matter to you.

Living simple certainly has it’s drawbacks but overall, you are comforted by it. Your parents raised you to be thankful for the things you have and to only set your sights on obtaining things that truly matter to you. It doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have goals but, your parents have always stressed that external success can be fickle and, material possessions only take you so far.

Being content is truly priceless and, you’re thankful they instilled these values into you.

Climbing into bed, you allow your mind to wander to the man you met today.

You couldn’t quite understand the legend behind him. Not to say that he wasn’t worthy of such folklore but, it’s more so that you didn’t exactly understand the warnings behind it.

He didn’t seem scary.

Although, it’s possible his demeanor is something he uses along with his beauty.

It could be that the Tiger lives up his animal comparison.

Beautiful and deadly.

Village gossip shouldn’t keep you awake longer than necessary, you think, it’s time to rest up so that tomorrow’s work day doesn’t feel like a never-ending task.

With the sound of the whistling wind just outside your home, you slowly close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

Your plan for a peaceful nights rest is completely demolished when you feel the frantic hands of your mother shaking you awake.

“Y/N! Wake up! Wake up! Raiders- they are raiders outside, hurry!” She drags the covers off of you, “We have to go!”

In a haphazard blur, you spring to your feet and arm yourself with a few important possessions and your sword.

Your parents tow behind you as you make your way out of your home.

The village is in utter chaos; shouting, clanking metal, screaming, amber flames peaking out from above the rooftops.

You grab your mothers arm, keeping her close to you as you try your best to follow procedures.

Like most smaller villages, your area is equipped with a protocol that will ensure the least amount of damage if there were to be an invasion.

Collect the essentials and gather your loved ones

Arm yourself

Make your way to the town square; there is strength in numbers.

Allow the raiders to take what they want (with the exception of human lives)

Negotiate

Simple in theory but, rarely in practice.

It’s difficult to keep up with a protocol during times of intense stress.

Amidst the chaos, you see Rachel scrambling out of her house, with a bag slung over her shoulder.

You cry out for her, desperately hoping she will hear your voice over the madness,

“Rachel! Over here!”

With wide eyes, she reaches out for your mother’s hand, bowing her head to shield from any possible debris.

“The army is here, they will protect us.” Your father murmurs solemnly beside you, his face stoic and rid of any bit of positivity

This could end very badly.

The four of you rush into the town square, trying your best to remain calm throughout the screaming, back up against a wall. Your grip tightens on your mothers hand as you spot the tents of the armed guests currently residing in your village.

The raiders continue their plundering throughout the town accompanied by the sounds of glass breaking and shouting.

Suddenly, there is a different sound: the clanking of swords. Briefly, you can see glimpses of armor peeking out of homes, the sight causing your eyes to widen.

“Look!”

Rachel and your parents crane their necks to see what you’re pointing out as the sounds coming from within your village begin to change.

Grunting, groaning, more clanking swords and a bit of shouting shoot out of the main street like fireworks.

“Clear the path!” An unfamiliar voice shouts and it’s then you can see what’s going on.

The raiders have been captured thanks to the ominous group of tourists that arrived yesterday.

Oddly enough, you don’t even remember seeing them leave their tents and it makes you wonder how the hell they managed to move so quickly undetected.

There are several men, dressed in black and gold armor, dragging the raiders by their shirts to the center of town square. One of them is a tall, doe eyed looking man with shaggy brown hair and biceps that could likely snap a neck if they so desired. He has his sword to the back of one of the raiders who scuffles along on his knees to meet with the rest of his captured teammates.

As the rest of the soldiers file in, another leader of the troop, tall and equally broad, gestures to Bambi with the biceps.

“Jungkook-ah! Bring the leader to the center; let our general deal with him.”

Jungkook does just that, quickly the toe of his boot into the back of the raider and jerking his head to the center of the plaza, “You heard him- move.” He grunts and the raider reluctantly shuffles forward.

Your fellow villagers are reasonably alarmed but, they all seem to freeze in place as they watch the show unravel before them.

This is already more excitement than your village has had in ages and, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t eating it up.

The man who has now been identified as Jungkook, steps away from the raider, still pointing his sword at him, a smug smirk on his face, “You know for a master thief, you were far too easy to catch. Lucky for me, I made a bet with my brothers here that I would catch you in 10 minutes,” Jungkook walks back towards the man, entangling his fingers in the roots of his hair before tugging backwards, “, and according to the clock tower, it only took me 8.”

Beside you, Rachel seems to swallow back her surprise before subconsciously starting to fan her face,

“Goodness, he really is something huh?”

Despite the tense nature of the situation, her demeanor makes you giggle,

“Stop drooling over the calvary...”

She smacks you playfully which causes your father to shush both of you, a moment which reminds you of your schoolyard days.

A bit of immaturity is actually refreshing after the events of this morning.

“Jungkook-ssi,” A voice bellows throughout the plaza, sending a chill down your spine, “What have I told you about placing bets on our captors huh?”

As the voice grows louder, you see him: the Tiger, stepping out from the main street, his long platinum hair flowing freely in the wind. His hand brandishes a sword, one that most certainly possesses the ability to inflict some serious harm.

Sheepishly, Jungkook smirks, releasing the man’s hair roughly and stepping back to his original spot, his sword posing to strike.

“Sorry hyung, this one was just too easy. I saw him skirting the perimeter last night, I know it would be a sure win once I saw his technique.”

So that’s how the army was able to move so quickly; they already anticipated this attack.

The Tiger chuckles darkly, his eyes alight with pure delight, “Aish- what am I going to do with you people hm?”

He moves like his name; slow, deliberate, deadly- you know that you’re about to witness an execution and you aren’t sure if you can stomach the sight, even if these raiders deserve it.

Its your turn to swallow back your reaction to him which doesn’t go unnoticed by your best friend standing beside you.

“Now look who’s drooling...” She teases, giggling as you playfully shove your elbow into her side.

The crowd is dangerously still, hanging on each syllable the Tiger speaks whilst his men, six other soldiers roughly his size, watch intently.

The rest of the raider clan are being held captive by the remainder of the fleet, bowing their heads in shame and fear but, the leader seems unaffected by their defeat.

“You lot aren’t men.” The man spits, his accent thick, “you’re narcissistic little boys who like to play dress up. You’re cowards, hiding behind your swords, killing everything that stands in your way. You have no idea how the other half live. You have no honor.”

There are gasps throughout the crowd then as your village grows shocked at the way he’s spoken to the Tiger.

If you had any hope that this wouldn’t end violently, it’s been squashed by the time the leader finishes his sentence.

The Tiger however, merely chuckles again, a light smirk on his carnation lips,

“It’s odd that a man who earns his keep by stealing from others would have the authority to lecture my men and I about honor.” He kisses his teeth and slowly raises his sword to brush against the man’s cheek, “Look at all these poor people hm? You've terrified them. Your lack of intelligence isn’t their burden to bear now is it? But you have made it their problem; ripped them from their homes, terrorized their children, their livelihoods and, all because you’re too incompetent to learn your own trade.”

The Tiger’s words infuriate him and the next thing you know, he’s lunging off the ground towards the Tiger, a snarl arising on his mouth.

It prompts your hands to fly to your face and your feet to nearly trip over themselves as you brace for the inevitable fight.

But it doesn’t come.

With one swoop of his arm, the Tiger has the leader knocked to the floor and underneath his leather boot. Jungkook has reacted quickly as well, his arm raising in the air to slice his sword through the man’s body. With one twitch of his hand however, the Tiger stops Jungkook from following through,

“See? You can’t do things like that my friend. Because if you do, my big friend here with the sword will slice your greasy head in two.” The Tiger smirks again, before turning his head over his shoulder, “You folks wouldn’t want to spend the day cleaning blood of your beautiful plaza now would you?”

Overexcited villagers quickly shout various commentary at him,

“Kill him!”

“Cut his head off!”

“Make him pay!”

The Tiger chuckles once more, raising his brows as the man struggles beneath his boot, “Well, I guess you’re lucky they aren’t in charge of your punishment...” He looks up towards the remainder of his fleet, nodding his head at the other prisoners, “Namjoon, Jin: ensure that none of these men are here against their will. If the rest of you are here by choice, I suggest you make yourselves disappear into the forest before I allow these fine people to get ahold of you.”

Immediately, the Tiger’s fleet begin following his orders and take the men away towards their tents. As they walk out of the plaza, only Jungkook, the Tiger and the clan leader remain.

You notice Jungkook scan the crowd then, peering out at the eager faces watching the show he is willingly apart of. Very briefly but noticeably, his eyes land on your best friend and as they do, they seem to linger.

He looks curious, almost boyish in a way as his ways seem to memorize her face but before Rachel even realizes what’s going on, his eyes quickly return to the raider.

“If you’re going to kill me, just do it. Don’t be a coward, I can’t listen to you ramble any longer.” The man growls which prompts the Tiger to push his foot down a little harder upon his back.

“I’m not your executioner, thief. Your fate resides with the Queens.” He explains, matter of factly before jerking his head towards Jungkook, “Put him in the portable cell. I’ll send a notice to the council that we have a criminal that needs to be dealt with.”

Jungkook nods, eagerly crossing the bit of plaza and kneeling down to restrain the man with handcuffs.

He grips the chain linking them and heaves him upwards so he’s standing between the two men.

“I’ll hose him off first,” Jungkook wrinkles his nose in disgust, “I don’t want him stinking up our camp.”

“Fuck you-” The man spits, jerking his wrists in Jungkook’s grip which then causes the Tiger to raise his sword once again.

“Behave yourself, thief.” He commands, his eyes darkening for the first time, “I’m assuming if you’ve heard stories of my fleet, you are privy to the fact that we don’t miss our target. Please don’t give me a reason to live up to my name.”

With that, the two men drag off the clan leader towards the rest of their fleet, not bothering to look back at the dozens of people they just saved.

They ignore the applause, the gratitude, the pleas for them to return and feast.

You have to admit that you’re shocked.

The supposedly wicked and ruthless Tiger sure seems to have quite a bit of restraint and diplomacy.

“Did he- did he really just let him go? Unharmed?”

Rachel asks a very good question and it seems to be the one on your parents minds as well.

“It’s extremely odd. I was fully prepared to witness an execution, he would have been within his right.” Your father notes, his eyes still trained on the center of the plaza.

Generals have a certain level of freedom with the prisoners they choose to capture; they are expected to have good judgement and carry out punishments if necessary.

In essence, the Tiger had every bit of authority to end that mans life and, given that he an eager crowd behind him, it genuinely perplexes you.

“Organized raids come with an automatic life sentence, the leaders are usually executed within a few days of their trial.” Your mother notes and it’s then that Rachel notices your silence.

“Well I think it’s safe to say that you didn’t make it on his hit list. You can’t be worse than a lead raider...” She grins, knowing full well that your confusion also comes with an annoying amount of curiosity.

She also knows that you plan on finding a way to speak with him again.

And she is absolutely right.

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

“Should I say hi to Jungkook for you? Ask if he’s betrothed?” You tease and Rachel promptly throws balled up dress your way.

You went to her house after the excitement in the town square to bake a batch of fresh bread for the Tiger’s fleet.

Bread is increasingly hard to come by these days due to a crop shortage in the northern region so despite what people may think, most military diets consist of salted meat and corn.

Doughy, fluffy, cheesy, rosemary bread is a luxury.

“I have a feeling you’ll be preoccupied with your mission to court the Tiger.” She retorts but a deep frown comes over her then, as she wraps the last loaf in parchment paper, “Are you sure you should be doing this? Waltzing over to a tent full of dangerous soldiers doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“I want to thank them.” You insist, loading your basket with the rest of the loaves, glancing up at your worried friend, “All the village ever talks about is how ruthless they are, how cruel they are known to be but, the reality is: they saved us. It must be frustrating to refuel just as any other fleet would and have people gossip about you or fear you unnecessarily. I’m not planning on staying for tea or anything, I just want to show my appreciation.”

Rachel raises her brows, “That’s all hm?”

You nod, “Yep.” Your lips pop with the sound of the p and Rachel remains unconvinced.

“This has nothing to do with the Tiger?”

“Of course not.” Your answer tumbles past your lips far too quickly and, it causes your friend to grin knowingly at you.

“I know that look-”

“Ugh what look?”

“The look. That one-” She points at you, “You’re about to do something you know you shouldn’t.”

Her smile is far too contagious and her knowledge of you surpasses anyone you’ve ever known in your life.

She has your number and there really is no point in lying to her.

“Fine, ok maybe it has a little something to do with the Tiger-” You smirk, trying to stifle the giggle that threatens your disposition, “Don’t laugh at me!”

Rachel’s twinkling laughter fills the room as she rounds the counter. Placing her hands on your shoulders, she smiles fondly at you, “Just be careful ok? I know he intrigues you and honestly I’m not at all surprised but, don’t let your curiosity get in the way of your safety. That’s the most important thing.”

“I won’t.” You promise, smiling back at her, placing your hands on hers, “I promise, I’ll be careful.”

Rachel helps you out once again, insuring you have everything you need before her soft voice is answering a question you asked moments earlier.

“And uh about that Jungkook boy-”

You smirk, “He’s definitely not a boy, did you see his muscles? He looks like he could bench press a mountain lion.”

She grows flustered, “No, I didn’t see any muscles, I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“Oh so you also didn’t notice him staring at you in the plaza today right?”

Rachel’s eyes widen, “Wait he was?” She clears her throat, amending her eagerness as you giggle, “He definitely wasn’t staring at me don’t be ridiculous. What I was going to say-”

“What you were going to say is that ‘no Y/N, I don’t want you to check on Jungkook’s marital status directly but, should you happen to come across his left hand, let me know whether or not you see a shiny band around his finger, not that I would care or anything. Because, I totally don’t have the hots for him.’ “

Her mouth opens and then closes like a fish before she playfully nudges you through her doorway, “Shut up.”

With a laugh and a few parting words, you are off to visit the tent of your village's heroes.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous.

But you’d also be lying if you said you were nervous for the right reasons.

The concept of walking into the basecamp of a supposedly elite and ruthless fleet is one thing but, talking to someone you find attractive?

Absolutely terrifying.

Your presence is immediately noted by the men inside the camp.

Two of them are seated at a table outside of one of the tents, hands and teeth full of meat, their motions freezing in place as they see you.

As you pass by one of their horses, you notice of them is speaking with a group of raiders.

The conversation seems amicable, suggesting that many of the raider clan was indeed in your village against their will.

You approach the main but, before you are able to make ring the bell on the outside, you are crashing chest first into a very firm and very broad chest.

“Holy-” The voice sounds familiar and as you look up, you are meet with the bambi with biceps himself: Jungkook.

“Hello I-” You attempt to begin but his panicked voice interrupts you.

“Yah hyung??? Uh there’s a-” He swallows thickly stepping away from you, “There’s a girl here!”

The word seems foreign on his tongue and his behavior genuinely surprises you.

Where was the cocky warrior from this morning, brandishing a sword and placing bets on his captors?

“Jungkook, for the last time- we don’t use that word. We say young lady or woman...” Another voice, one you don’t recognize fades into your scope of hearing before pushing open the fabric of the tent. He is arguably just as beautiful as the other men, tall, dark haired, buff- as if he would be anything else.

“Oh, hello. Are you...” The man narrows his brows as he looks towards the group of raiders speaking with one of his counterparts, “Are you with the group or?”

You shake your head, your basket swinging when you turn back towards the village, “Oh no, no I’m from the village. My name is Y/N Y/L/N...” You bow your head slightly, “I came here to bring you this,” You gesture to the basket, “It’s fresh bread. I wanted to thank you for saving my people today.”

You feel the need to rush out your explanation as the rest of the fleet continues to stare at you. In fact, the way they are looking at you is rather unnerving.

It isn’t disrespectful just intrusive; they are looking at you as if you’ve sprouted a second head.

“You-” The man before you cocks his head, looking befuddled, “You came here to- thank us?”

“Well yes, I know bread is hard to come by and I figured you could use a pick-me-up after your fight this morning.”

He smiles now but his incredulity doesn’t change as he takes the basket from your hands, “It’s warm.” He notes, “Did you bake this recently?”

“Yes I baked it today, just now actually uh-” You decide to speak candidly now since the possible threat margin seems to be closing, “You look confused.”

Jungkook is practically hiding behind the man you’re addressing and it takes a large part of you not to laugh at his behavior.

“Forgive me.” He chuckles, “We aren’t exactly used to hospitality. Most villagers avoid us like the plague, it probably has to do with our General but regardless.” He bows his head, “We appreciate the gesture. I’ll make sure to pass along your gratitude to him once he returns.”

“Oh is he not here? I was hoping to thank him myself.” You try and mask the disappointment in your tone, not wishing to come across as stranger than you already did.

The man shakes his head, “No. He often takes a walk after an invasion; gotta make sure the perimeter is secure.” He smiles and you are taken aback by how white his teeth were, “My name is Seokjin, I’m the outreach expert on the fleet and unofficial chef. I promise your bread will be put to good use, it’s been months since we’ve had any decent carbs.”

His comment makes you smile and you are delighted that his demeanor is so welcoming.

“I’m sorry to heart that. Will you be in town long? I can try to set you up with a few more baskets before your departure?”

Seokjin chuckles warmly before snorting as Jungkook paws at the basket, “Easy.” He admonishes but its too late, Jungkook already has half a loaf down in his mouth, his chest rumbling with the sound of his groan.

“Oh my god hyung, it’s so good...”

Seokjin looks disgusted with him but hands him the basket anyway, nodding to the rest of the fleet, “Share. Make sure you save a loaf for Yoongi and I.”

Jungkook happily obliges but not before turning towards you and bowing, “Uh thanks for the- for the bread....”

His sentence is choppy and over before it even begins as he goes bounding off in the direction of his team.

“Pardon him, he’s been in the army since he was fourteen. We haven’t done an amazing job at socializing him but, he’s getting better. He’s still a bit antsy around women though.” Seokjin chuckles, fondness in his eyes, “Ah but to answer your question, yes. We've decided to set up here for a few weeks to train our new recruits. I would love to more of this bread if it’s not too much trouble.”

You smile, waving him off, attempting to conceal your happiness at the news he’s just delivered, “Nonsense, I’d be happy to bake some more.”

“Excellent!” He chirps, clasping his hands together, “I’m sure Yoongi would be happy to know we’ve finally manage to contact with a villager. It’s been an issue for us, stories spread like wildfire you know? And just like wildfire, they tend to do more harm than good.”

“And Yoongi is?”

Seokjin chuckles, “Ah I believe you’d know him better as...” He flutters his fingers dramatically, “ the Tiger.”

Yoongi.

So that was his name.

“Oh yes,” You amend, “I’ve certainly heard of him but, I prefer to make my own judgements rather than succumb to the gossip.”

He smirks, “That’s very noble of you Y/N. I for one,” He places a hand on his chest, throwing a wink your way, “, live for the gossip.”

Your meeting with Seokjin ends soon after that with a promise that you would return with more bread.

As much as you wanted to rush back to Rachel’s house to inform of your meeting with the ‘most dangerous fleet in the world’, you remind yourself that school is in session; a necessary but annoying inconvenience.

However, there are plenty of ways you plan on keeping busy for the remainder of the day and one of them involves visiting the river to collect more herbs for your remedies.

You obviously weren't able to sell your wares today as the marketplace was still littered with evidence of the robbery. Your parents had insisted you take the day off to restock and recuperate whilst they helped the village leaders clean up.

Reluctantly, you agreed and you are now very grateful that you had.

The river has always been one of your favorite places. It was rich, green, buzzing with life and, always a few degrees colder than your village. Surrounded by mossy trees that seem to stretch as high as the clouds, the river is encased with life. Rabbits, squirrels, tortoises, frogs and a plethora of birds all coral in the area the river resides in whilst bears, big cats, wolves and monkeys hide behind the dense forest. It’s any apothecary’s paradise as it is also the residence of any herbs capable of growing in damp areas.

Angelica, Blue Vervain, Marshmallow, Stinging Needle and more: the river is your one stop shop for so many of your essential ingredients.

Today you’re after a particular herb though and armed with another woven basket, you make your way towards the large bushels of it growing at the base of a tree trunk.

Valerian is an essential herb in your arsenal and due to its popularity, it’s something you’re consistently having to restock.

Gathering it carefully, ensuring you don’t disturb the root of the plant.

You are so enthralled with your current task that you don’t even notice that you are no longer alone.

“Is this where the tree bark grows?”

You jump nearly six feet out of your skin, whipping your head around to face your intruder.

Standing before you is the myth himself, the Tiger or as you’ve recently learned: Yoongi.

He’s still in his armor from earlier, his long tendrils pulled back away from his face into a low ponytail. Between his lips, which are curving slightly, is a piece of the bark he had taken from your cart the day prior.

He is chewing it as you instructed.

“You of all people should know not to ambush someone like that...” You breath, placing a hand on your chest, “I could have wacked you with this basket or something.”

He just smirks, “I’ve had worse.” He notes, taking the bark from between his teeth, “I’m sorry I frightened you though, I didn’t expect to see anyone here.”

“Likewise.” You retort, nodding your head at the bark, “Is it helping?”

He shrugs, “Too early to tell I suppose but, it’s tending to my oral fixation so, either way it has a purpose.”

You straighten up a bit more and smooth out your dress, “It will work, it just takes a bit of time.” You assure him before adjusting the herbs in your basket, “I came by your tent earlier to offer my thanks for what you and your men did today, your outreach coordinator Seokjin told me he’d pass along the message but-”

“You did what?”

His tone doesn’t entirely lean one way or the other and you quickly grow worried that you offended him.

“I brought a basket of bread to uh-” You swallow thickly, meeting the intensity of his gaze, “to your camp as a thank you for saving my village.”

Several emotions flicker across his face before he settles on surprise, “I see. Were they polite?”

You can’t help but smile, this day truly has been full of surprises and, Yoongi’s demeanor is only adding to that list.

“I only had the privilege of meeting Seokjin and well- I kind of met Jungkook but, he seemed a little-”

“Awkward?” Yoongi smirks

“A little.” You amend, “But both of them were very polite. They explained that they often don’t receive any hospitality on stops like this; I was very sorry to hear that.”

Yoongi’s teeth seem to catch the inside of his cheek as he nods curtly, “There’s no need for apologies. Hospitality is welcome but, never expected. I try to teach my men that we should never expect gratitude for what we do as it so often comes with a price.”

“I suppose gratitude should be offered situationally then, there was very little draw back to what you did today. Our village is privy to raiders; maybe if word gets around that you all were in town, that might prevent this from happening again.”

He purses his lips before nodding in consideration, “I see you’re point. Regardless of its necessity, gratitude is always welcome: especially when free food is involved.”

His comment makes you giggle and your laughter makes his lips itch in a way they never have.

“I wholeheartedly agree with that. I get a surprising amount of baked goods sent my way doing what I do so, I’ll have no problem dolling out the gratitude while you all are here.”

Yoongi’s brows knit in confusion, “Do you people often pay you in baked goods?”

Laughter flows freely out of your mouth then and you shake your head at his question, “Definitely not, I sell my goods for currency as does any obedient member of society,” At this Yoongi smirks again, he likes your wit, a lot, “but I do receive muffin baskets, cakes, pies and whatnot from happy customers. They’re mainly from women whose husbands have taken my ginseng remedy.”

His curiosity blooms, “And why is that?”

You feel a bit of heat rushing to your cheeks, “Ginseng enhances uh- drive, often times it can be used a stimulant to promote you know-” You’re hoping Yoongi will put the pieces together but instead his eyes remain expectant, “passion.”

The word makes Yoongi straighten up a bit and in an effort to look casual, he nods quickly and hums a little too loudly.

“Ah yes. Of course. Well, as I said- free food is free food right?” He wagers, his fingers rubbing at the bit of bark.

Its your turn to smirk now but, you quickly change the subject when you ask, “Is the leader of the clan secure? I didn’t see him when I passed through your camp.”

He clears his throat, bringing the bark back towards his mouth, “He is. I have him locked up just behind the trees so he isn’t able to influence the new recruits. He had an alarming number of unwilling participants within his group, many of them claimed to be brought there with the threat of physical harm.”

You kiss your teeth and shake your head, “I don’t understand that kind of behavior. I understand that sometimes desperate people do desperate things but, to exert power or harm over another person without a viable cause...it just makes no sense to me.”

He’s intrigued now and as he brings the bark back to his lips, his brow knit with curiosity, “Hm. So do you think there is a justification to steal but not to commit violence?”

You can’t figure out why your opinion would matter to him but, you sure as hell aren’t going to question the length of this conversation.

“I think that some people believe they have no other choice but to steal. Wealth and power aren’t possible without a poor man to stand on, to oppress- I don’t support the idea of taking what doesn’t belong to you but, I could see why people are driven to do so. People are growing tired of being the poor man. Senseless violence isn’t something I could find a justification for. What the raiders often do, is both so I guess-” You hesitate, “I’m conflicted.”

Yoongi is captivated by your explanations, not because they are particularly ground breaking but, because they are particularly human. You aren’t afraid to discuss the complexity of life nor are you afraid to admit when certain things confound you.

“That’s a fair assessment. Do you agree with today’s outcome?”

Your smile returns, as you adjust the basket on your arm again, “I did. Especially because it seemed to surprise everyone, myself included.”

His lips return to his smirk, “Why? Because I didn’t behead him?”

“Exactly.” You breathe out a laugh before continuing, “I for one was shocked to see you deal with the situation without your trusty viper...”

His face turns to one of incredulity, “Oh my- you're not serious are you? Do people genuinely think I keep a viper on me at all times? Do they have any idea how unpractical that is?”

Yoongi’s reaction sends you into a fit of giggles and the sound makes his lips itch again.

He decides he enjoys the sound very much.

“I’m sure you’ve set a few people straight after this morning,” You offer, wiping a bit of moisture from the corner of your eye, “I doubt the rumors will repopulate the same way after you leave.”

“What do you think of them?”

“The rumors?”

“They’re entertaining.” You shrug, “But I don’t like to make assumptions about people unless I’ve met them, not even scary and supposedly cruel generals like yourself.”

The ghost of a smile shows itself on Yoongi’s mouth and his eyes seem to glimmer, pleased with your answer.

“I wish more people had that mindset.”

It’s all he says before promptly dropping the subject again, nodding in the direction behind him, “I should probably head back to camp. I have a feeling that the longer I am away, the smaller my chances of getting any of that bread become.”

“You’re probably right, I have to be back before sunset anyway.” Your parents don’t like it when you’re out at the river after dark, “It was very nice meeting you Yoongi. I hope you enjoy the bread.”

His lips as he realizes something vital, “I’m sure I will. Forgive me, I don’t remember catching your name...”

At his observation, you extend your hand towards his, “Oh of course, my name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Without looking down, he grasps your hand gently as if he were afraid to break it, “Y/N- I’ll remember it.” He promises unnecessarily but it still sends a flutter through your heart, “Get home safe.”

When he releases your hand, you step back towards the bushel of Valerian before smiling once more,

“You too.”

As Yoongi departs from the river, he smirks to himself.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be the routine stop he had planned on.

Perhaps this would be so much more.

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itsuki-minamy · 4 years

Text

“KINGDOM OF RED": Chapter 2 (Pages 93 to 146)

TRANSLATION & RAWS: NARU-KUN

The wall was badly broken.

Suoh, who dropped out of school after completing the supplementary lessons, was sitting on the bench at the bus stop. He wasn't waiting for the pass. It was a hot and humid day in which the sun was raging even though it was June. So on the way home, he buys ice cream on a stick and sit on the bench at a cabin-style bus stop in the shade to eat ice cream.

The bus stop is no longer in use (at least Suoh has never seen a bus stop here), and it seems like it has been left unattended and has forgotten to check out. The roof and walls to prevent rain and wind are made of wood and have corroded over the years. However, it is useful to avoid the sun. The road was up a hill and the bus stop was near the bottom of the hill.

Moist, gentle heat envelops his body. It was windy, but the wind direction was bad. The wind blowing from the side is blocked by the wall and does not hit Suoh. This stop was good for umbrellas, but it was also a windbreaker. There is no choice but to look at the state of the tree swaying in the wind.

Quiet early summer afternoon. The first to notice it were his ears.

From a distance, he hears the sound of a bicycle's wheels spinning at tremendous speed. He wondered if he was getting closer, "Ooh!" He hears the voice of a child screaming.

And the wall was broken.

The corroded wooden wall was completely destroyed by a bicycle that rushed down with tremendous force, and a child riding on the tattered bicycle appeared in front of Suoh. He was thrown from his bicycle, fluttered in the air for a moment, rolled on the ground, hit a wall opposite the wall that his bicycle had destroyed, and stopped.

"What the hell..."

The boy frowns painfully, almost upside down from the impact of rolling.

He meets Suoh, who was sitting on the bench at the bus stop and eating ice cream. The boy opened his eyes and said, still in an upside down position.

"Are you hurt?"

"You're…"

Even if he thinks about it, the questions are absurd.

The boy, groaning, finally gets up from a prone position and checks his body. Then, he squeezes the brake on the bike that fell and jerked.

"I thought I was lucky because the bicycle was thrown in the dumpster, but it looks like the brakes were broken. I'm sorry for the surprise. I'm glad I didn't hurt you!"

The boy said that with a smile on his face. A cool breeze blows through a large hole in the wall of the destroyed bus stop. The child's pale hair ruffled fluffy.

Is he a high school student? He was a childish boy with a well-organized face and a slim figure.

"Well, it wasn't the case since you were relaxed. I'm going!"

The boy suddenly seemed to remember something, but as soon as he stood up, he frowned and stopped moving. Apparently his leg was injured.

"Ugh. No use. Sorry, can I hide for a bit?"

The boy hid behind the bench without Suoh's consent. Suoh wasn't particularly interested, so he left him alone and ate the rest of the ice cream.

Before long, he hears several jerky footsteps. Three bad-looking men run. At first glance, they are wearing a fashion that spared no effort so that they could be recognized as bullies. The dangling gold accessories make a jarring noise.

"Hey."

A man with a shaved head calls out to Suoh.

"Has a high school boy come this way?"

Suoh didn't reply. Perhaps that attitude was annoying, one of the men clicked his tongue.

"Hey, answer what I ask you!"

When Suoh was still silent, he was touched from behind on his back. The boy hiding behind the bench. It seems to be a sign to do him a favor.

Suoh opened his mouth, thinking it would be troublesome.

"I do not know."

"You lie! It's the kid on the bicycle that fell over here!"

From behind the bench, he hears a faint, impressive sound. Apparently, he did not know that he would be caught on a bicycle. It can be silly.

Behind the terrifying bully before Suoh, the other two compare the bicycle to the destroyed wall and turn their necks, saying, "What happened?" "Is that child okay?"

"I do not know."

When Suoh told him that, the shaven-headed thug got enraged and grabbed Suoh.

But before his hand grabbed Suoh's chest, the boy hiding behind the bench came out and stopped the bully. The child, holds the bully's hand, shakes his hand and smiles.

"Sorry I was here."

Suoh was amazed.

Didn't he want them to hide him? No, he really didn't want to hide behind Suoh, but he wondered what to do if he hid and came out later.

The man who was about to grab Suoh also grimaced in frustration. After exposing a face of direct surprise for about two seconds, he felt relieved as if he had returned to himself, and forcibly pulled on the hand that was paired with the boy. He slides the back of the bench and forces him to tip over, and the boy is dragged in front of the men.

"Uh..."

"You can't run anymore. Where did your father go?!"

The bully held the boy with his hands and pressed his rough face closer to the boy.

"I don't know. Like I said before, my uncle often goes on a trip, so if I go on a trip, I don't even know where to go."

Even if it's scary, he doesn't seem scared at all. He is used to this situation or he is just nervous? However, even though it wasn't sexual harassment, he seemed to be in trouble.

"Liar! I wonder if you became a decoy and let your father escape!"

"Well that's correct."

"So you're admitting that you let him get away!"

"That's right. If you ask me, I'm in trouble when they ask me. No, I'm still in trouble, right?"

Apparently, it is not exactly this child who is being persecuted, but the child's father.

Suoh grabbed the wooden ice cream stick that he had finished eating and tossed it in the trash next to him. A dirty, rusty metal trash can with the sound of a wooden stick falling and a clicking sound.

The men turned their eyes as if the sound reminded them of Suoh's existence.

"Hey, who are you? Do you know him?"

"I don't know. He was there when I got rid of my bicycle."

The boy said before Suoh answered. It seems like he is trying to get involved without permission and the child doesn't want to get him involved anymore.

Suoh sighed and looked at the men. Ignoring their faces, if he looks at each one, he can see a tense atmosphere running between the men. The shaved man, who was holding the boy in his hand, gulped and released the boy's hand. He can see the child blinking as if surprised.

"What are you doing?"

The words thrown at Suoh were terribly devoid of content.

"It is a demon."

Suoh said in a low voice...

"Get lost."

The air sways. In the movement of the air, he realized that these men would not approach. He can tell by the smell that he is willing to fight.

"What, cheeky..."

One of the guys said in a silly voice, maybe he couldn't retreat. Another person touches his elbow.

"No, don't waste it here. It's not our job to deal with an unrelated child."

With that word as a hint to retreat, the men returned the brilliance. "Next time your father goes somewhere, ask him where he's going!"

Suoh stayed behind with the boy and somehow looked at his face.

The boy's eyes were wide and he was looking at Suoh.

The two brown eyes reflect a lot of light and shine. His focus was on Suoh's eyes, direct enough to look like a prisoner.

For a moment, Suoh was a bit confused.

He feels like he hasn't been able to face such a straight line of sight from a non-hostile opponent these days. Most of the people who come are those who are trying to sell a fight, and most of the people who are not, look away as if they thought they would be bitten if they looked directly at Suoh. Even people, like Kusanagi and Honami, who try to communicate with the surrounding people, rarely look directly at this point.

The child's eyes, which pierce his gaze from the front in an attempt to identify the other person without any intention, are like when a child observes a person. He felt that uncomfortable straightness.

"King?"

The boy said, looking at Suoh.

It was an oddly cautious tone that he could tell that he was afraid to bow his head.

"Ah?"

When he frowns without understanding the meaning, the boy tilts his neck, which had been tilted to the left, again to the right, giving him a thoughtful look.

"Hmm... It doesn't feel right..."

He can't see what the story is. It was okay to throw him out, but he was a little worried about what this kid would say next, and he look forward to the next words.

The boy suddenly seemed to have some inspiration and said.

"King!"

As soon as he said that word, the boy became confident and nodded.

"Yes, King is the best fit."

"What are you talking about?"

"The story of your name."

The boy said with an innocent smile.

"Can I call you King?"

"Do what you want."

Amazed, this time he left the boy and began to walk. The boy came out to chase him and yelled, "Ouch!" It seems he forgot he had an injured leg and moved.

"King, wait a minute! I can't walk!"

He stopped and looked back reluctantly. The boy laughed happily. With a simple smile like that of an old friend, he approaches Suoh.

"Sorry, but could you give me a hand?"

In the end, Suoh was replaced by a child's cane.

He didn't have the righteousness or the kindness to keep up with him, but for some reason he was caught up in the boy's rhythm. There was no such thing as listlessness in the way the boy spoke and interacted, rather it was not strangely clingy.

Speak frankly and dryly, with no signs of compassionate or intrusive appeal. The ease with which the boy would not get hurt or angry at all, even if he declined his request, on the contrary, may have made Suoh feel like he could get a little more involved.

The boy grabs Suoh's high shoulder as if he is dangling and walks so as not to put his weight on his injured leg.

“The people I mentioned above are debt collectors. My uncle loves gambling and just got into debt."

"Uncle?"

"Oh, that's my dad."

When he was skeptical about some of the words spoken by the boy and repeated like a parrot, the boy complimented.

"I think those debt collectors aren't bad people either. They don't normally blame me, but I helped my uncle escape today, so I think I pissed them off."

"Where did he go when you let him get away?"

"I don't know. Like I told those people, I haven't asked."

While lending his shoulder to the boy, listening to his words, he finally came to a small apartment.

It's an older, two-story apartment that's rare these days. The inner door to the first floor was open.

"That open door over there is my house. I ran away in a hurry, so I left the door open."

The metal door that seems to make a cheap noise when knocked is wide open. Next to the door was a name tag with the words "Ishigami". What hides the back of the room is a thin, hand-made piece of fabric that looks like it was made by joining pieces of fabric together. Beyond that, there was a small tatami room that integrated with the kitchen. It's messy, but not crowded. Daily necessities and messy and unclear sundries are boxed and decorated as a small display, and it can be seen that the owner of this room is living happily as is. However, as a sign that he had run away, he saw a container of hot water lying on the ground.

When the boy removed his hand from Suoh's shoulder, he entered the room, believing that Suoh would naturally approach, and without a doubt, he said, "King, is it okay with Gobocha?"

"What is Gobocha?"

"As the name suggests, it seems to be gobo tea. The neighbor told me it was good for my health and she bought it, but I didn't like the taste. She gave me a drink, so when I told her it was not delicious, she gave me a lot."

The child takes a teapot with tea from the refrigerator, stirs the drink and pours it. He put two cups on the table and looks at Suoh with a smile.

Suoh walks into the room, takes the drink in one hand and drinks it. The flavor hasn't changed much, but the scent that comes out of the nose is definitely that of Gobo.

Hydrate his throat with a very cold tea with an unusual flavor. At first glance, the house did not appear to have air conditioning, but a cool breeze was blowing in through the open windows. There is a clink. When he rolled his eyes, a wind chime that looked like handmade was hanging from the curtain rail.

It's still good now, but he thinks it's hard to spend time in this house when summer comes around, but this kid laughed that he didn't have a cooler and enjoyed the little tricks to avoid the heat. It felt like this.

"It was incredible what happened a moment ago.", said the boy with a smile.

"A moment ago?"

"When you got rid of the debt collectors. King, you saw them and they all ran away."

Suoh snorted a bit at the comment. The boy also narrowed his eyes in a funny way at Suoh's appearance.

The boy drank his tea in one sitting, took a breath, stood up with his crooked leg elevated, dumped tap water into a plastic bag, threw in some ice, and tied it up. He wrapped it in a towel and put it on his ankle. Keep talking gently while quickly treating the affected area.

"Keep in mind that there are colors, shapes and temperatures."

"Ah?"

Suoh frowned at the sudden comment. The boy still has a slight smile.

"No, I could see the sign, I'm not saying I'm like an expert or something."

After trying to apologize, the boy looked away, perhaps trying to remember what he had just seen.

"I could see King's signal growing in the narrow space. I think they could see it too, so they ran away. I didn't run away simply because I wasn't afraid of King's eyes."

The boy continues talking while looking at him.

"It doesn't mean I feel the line of sight, you don't emit a beam from your eyes, I'm not talking about that. But it's true. It's the first time I've seen a person's intentions so clearly. It's like I've seen a ghost although I shouldn't have been inspired."

Suoh glanced at the boy. The child smiles vaguely and looks down to bite into something.

"Is there color, shape or temperature?"

"There was. King's sign is... the temperature is high and it feels red. Then it grows like a glow."

It was like listening to a children's poem. The boy shook his eyes as if trying to find a suitable expression.

"Yes, it was like a flame. Everyone knows that if you touch it you will get burned, that's why the King sign scares everyone. But, although I know it is scary, fire attracts people."

Once, the child removes the ice pack from his leg and observes. Suoh looked at him and said in a low voice.

"What is that?"

"Huh? What?"

"What is King?"

The boy slowly blinked his big eyes a few times, and after a while, he bowed his head.

"Because you are like a King."

"What do you mean?"

The boy changes the tone that seemed calm until then and speaks like a child.

"When King looked at them and made a great sign, I thought you were a king! You were like a great king!"

"It was like a flame from a little while ago."

"The flame looked like a king."

"Was it even covered with a crown?"

"Well maybe it's a little different..."

The boy also made a pensive little face and made his eyes shine.

"You are a lion. You are like a lion with strong fangs. A lion would be the king of beasts."

Suoh sighed and stood up.

He couldn't keep up. Or rather, he had been with him long enough.

The boy didn't try to stop Suoh, who was about to go home, and said, "Oh, are you going home? Thank you for today."

"See you."

The boy responded to Suoh's miserable greeting with a bright smile.

"See you again, King!"

See you, the words were not just greetings.

Then the boy appeared many times before Suoh. He appears casually as a dog or cat that you often run into during a walk, and when he thinks he have been following him for a while, he easily disappears.

After repeating such a thing several times, Suoh got used to the boy's existence. He come to accept him as a familiar dog or cat.

Those who have been close to Suoh so far are those who fear him, or those who have a sense of hostility. There are even those who borrow Suoh's power, try to use him as a shield, or feel the illusion that they became stronger when they were close to Suoh.

With the exception of Kusanagi, who never entered Suoh's territory, even when he was near Suoh, and drew a refreshing, clean line. Kusanagi's way of taking a distance was refreshing to Suoh, probably because most of the people who sided with Suoh were the ones who stepped in and hit him, or the ones who came up and tried to lean on him.

In comparison, that boy enters this area, both physically and mentally. However, if he want to lean on him, he don't and disappears. After all, he looked like an animal without human thoughts or speculation.

Suoh himself is called a beast and is used to being treated like an animal. Such a beast got acquainted with a friendly dog and cat.

++++++++++

It doesn't make sense for Suoh to wander around town.

He does not have a positive desire to play, nor does he want a place to stay. Like a fish swimming in a tank of water, just walking around town.

Suoh has never felt a clear inconvenience in his life. Although his parents died early, he had a legacy he could live with. It was his eccentric grandfather who became Suoh's guardian after his parents died, and did little to interfere in Suoh's life with minimal discipline when he was young.

There is no shortage and there is no particular bond.

Still, Suoh felt that this world was narrow.

A world in which people are crowded and various emotions intertwine, as if walking is going to hit their shoulders. There was always a vague feeling of obstruction, no, a strong feeling of irritation.

(Your parents were laid back and nice people.)

His grandfather once said while drinking. He wondered why a child like him was born to such human beings.

(But it may have been unusual for me to freely accept a child like you.)

He was a stubborn and silent grandfather. He became ill and was strongly recommended to be hospitalized, but refused to decide where he would die. He hated hospitals and terrible treatments that would only postpone death, with a force that could be said to be hatred.

(I live freely and die. You also live freely.)

His grandfather stretched his back and looked at Suoh, even though he was thin from illness and had black, depressed eyes.

(You decide how to deal with that annoying thing in you.)

His grandfather's finger pierced the middle of Suoh's chest. He doesn’t hear what his grandfather said was a nuisance. However, he intuitively felt that it was related to this vague sense of obstruction that constantly envelops Suoh.

Suoh swim in the city like a fish. A town called Shizume where he was born and raised. People crowd and cross, it looks beautiful, it is also like a sweep.

Suoh doesn't hate humans like his grandfather. If the horses meet, they will meet each other and there will be no feeling of revulsion towards each other. Sometimes he finds it fun to hang out with Kusanagi.

Still, as Honami said, he certainly thought it was easy to be afraid of the people around him.

He doesn't hate humans. However, the intertwined human thoughts and feelings strengthened Suoh's sense of obstruction.

The "troublesome thing" in Suoh is probably why people around him are afraid of him and call him "beast", and that boy calls him "King".

"Oh, it's King."

Suddenly, he hears a bright and familiar voice.

Suoh, who was walking through the city smoothly, stopped. There is only one person who calls Suoh as King.

As expected, see the boy sitting down. The boy was in a circle of friends in front of the play center.

Suoh tried to pass by with a glance, but the boy was quick to say something to his friends around him.

There was no reason to wait, so Suoh continued without loosening his legs. The boy takes a brisk step and stands next to Suoh, looking up with a loose smile.

"It's the first time I've met you at night, King."

The boy said that, in a tone that was funny.

Suoh doesn't respond in particular and stomps on the dirty street surface.

By the way, Suoh vaguely thought that this boy would appear only at certain times of the day.

After school, he was playing near the place where he first met him, which is also Suoh's school route, and he was waiting in front of Suoh's high school while being nice to the students. To Suoh, this boy was a creature that haunted bright places.

"Did you go out at night to party despite being a kid?"

After saying that, he realized that it is surprising that this boy plays in Shizume at night.

The boy smiled after blinking his big eyes.

"A child is not much different from you, King."

"I'm going."

"Totsuka."

He thought he was a boy who was 12 years old at the most and had just entered high school. He's probably lower than average, and he has seen him in uniform multiple times, but didn't feel like he was wearing it.

However, there is not a big difference between twelve and fourteen, and in that sense, the difference between Suoh and this boy is not that great.

"Where are you going, King?"

"Separately."

Suoh candidly replies to the listening boy as he walks with a step that seems to bounce slightly beside Suoh. The boy was a guide.

"Does that mean it's not destiny?"

"That does not exist."

"So why are you walking?"

"There is no reason."

It is like a fish swimming in a tank of water. The boy looked at Suoh again for a while and laughed softly.

"After all, King is like a lion."

Eat, sleep, just walk around the place. Certainly animal behavior.

The boy doesn't want to know about Suoh, even though he follows Suoh. They meet in town, move on, and then go home.

Suddenly, Suoh realized that he didn't even know the boy's name. He was a bit surprised and speaks in the first person. He hangs around and talk nonsense, but he never asks for a name.

"Your…"

The boy looked at him as he spoke.

"Name is…"

It blinks, clicks and blinks twice. Then the boy also grimaced that he finally realized the fact that they did not know each other's names.

"Tatara Totsuka."

Totsuka rubs his nose. He felt stagnant for some reason.

A boy who calls himself Tatara Totsuka says with an impulse...

"I don't know King's name!"

Suoh simply called himself Suoh, while looking at the surprised boy.

"Suoh Mikoto."

The boy spoke the name in a tone like singing a spell, and his eyes were round.

"It's amazing that I have heard about the name and the rumors, King is Suoh."

"Did you know? Hmm, didn't you know?"

It seems like he didn't know he was the same person, even though he called him King and knew about Suoh's rumors.

Suoh was amazed and glanced at Totsuka, and tried to remember what he was caught up in.

"Name plate."

Suoh said, remembering an earlier event.

"The name of the front card is different."

Totsuka made a surprised face.

"Do you remember well?"

When he found him, he met this boy with an injured leg and brought him home. At that moment, he saw the front card of the house. He didn't want to remember it, but it seems like it stayed somewhere in his head.

"Uncle's last name is Ishigami. But I'm a collected kid, so my last name is different."

"Eh?"

Totsuka revealed the origin in a light tone, which seems heavy from the point of view of general sensibilities.

"Was I three years old? I don't remember much, but it seems like I was dropped off at the park. I knew my name and I was carrying a small backpack with some money."

"Didn't you change your last name?"

"Yeah. Well, it doesn't mean I can't find a father. Until then, I thought I could live in that house for now. So it looks like we're living together."

That's probably why he calls his father "uncle." Considering how he met Totsuka, his father does not appear to be a legitimate type of adult, and may be living with him with the intention of having a small presence rather than as a father.

The slight freedom, kindness and somewhat dry atmosphere of the child, despite his original personality, can come from his birth and upbringing.

"Totsuka."

Say the name for the first time. Totsuka replied lightly.

"Yes?"

"Because you follow me?"

It is a new question. Totsuka looked lightly and crossed his arms to think.

"Why is it exciting?"

"Exciting."

Involuntarily returns the word like a parrot. He frowns and sees Totsuka walking beside his.

"There's a lot of fun in the world, but that's definitely not the case, is it? But there's something I can definitely say when I'm with King. I feel like it's there."

It's an awkward and fluffy answer.

"I do not know what it means."

"Well, in a nutshell..."

Totsuka thought for a moment and nodded aloud.

"I will be a servant of the king."

Suoh had a very strange face. If Kusanagi were here, he thought he would have an astonished face.

"Servant of the king?"

"That's correct. Who is there besides King?"

Totsuka smiles and says it as something natural.

After a while, he realized that Totsuka is a person who is very interested in various things. It seems that the interest in Suoh is only temporary. Suoh took a deep breath, wondering if it was useless to take him seriously.

"The king's servant is faking his current pastime?"

Totsuka also put on a serious and thinking face. The silence this time is unexpectedly long. This child, who usually speaks firmly, takes time to respond only when he thinks deeply.

After spending a long time thinking, Totsuka said...

"I feel different."

"What?"

"I can't explain how I feel, but it's not my hobby. I like to try different things, but this is not the case."

Despite the irrelevant reply as usual, Totsuka's tone was unwavering. He thinks he's a funny guy. He looks like an idiot with a lack of screws in his head, but there are times when he seems to be looking at something different.

"Then…"

Totsuka said in a serious tone. He always speaks in a soft tone that seems to include a smile, so the mood changes when it becomes serious.

"I wonder if I want to stay away."

What? He tries to ask, but before that, he notice a sign of the way to go.

He turns his gaze to him. Three men stood up. It is a trio of a large man, a man of medium height, medium back, golden hair tied behind him, and a tall, thin man. Although the face and body were not alike at all, the atmosphere created was exactly the same. They are the ones who often intimidate their environment with their appearance and attitude. They seem to be floating in the surroundings, which the general public would avoid if they walked, and they blend into Shizume city at night as a background.

The men's eyes caught Suoh directly.

Suoh stops and ignores those who get in the way.

There was a distinct smell of hostility in them. For Suoh, the smell he got used to. The aggressive will is exposed in the eyes of the men to whom it is directed.

"King."

Totsuka calls Suoh. It doesn't seem awkward, but it is a voice with a soft color.

"Go somewhere."

He told him in a low voice, but there was no sign of Totsuka moving.

Suoh didn't look at Totsuka, he just looked at the ones standing in front of him and waited for the next action.

"You are Suoh Mikoto."

A large man standing in front of him said that. The upper arm muscles extending from the black tank top are tight and swollen. More than a threatening act, it was more like an unconscious force at the signs of battle.

The men look at each other as if they are talking to each other.

"Do you know Mitsuha-san?"

Mitsuha. Suoh looks for the name in his head and remembers it. He remembered him because he was a strange guy. The man who knew Kusanagi. Suddenly he came and got into a fight with Suoh. He's used to getting into fights, but he's never done it like that.

Was the full name Mitsuha Kurayama? It seems like he was a famous guy in Shizume. Kusanagi said he was rampaging almost like a street demon, equivalent to suicide.

Suoh remembered Mitsuha Kurayama's eyes.

Behind the dull color, there is something that burns violently, the eyes that glow black.

That eye had a reminiscent color. The irritation and resignation the man had were familiar to Suoh.

"What did you do to Mitsuha-san?"

Says a big man with a grumpy voice. To call him Mitsuha-san, they must have been members of Mitsuha Kurayama's group. After losing to Suoh, Kurayama obeyed Suoh's words to disappear, and disappeared from this artistic district. Are the remaining subordinates looking for the missing team leader?

Perhaps he was frustrated by Suoh, who was just looking back without answering, the big man distorted his face. However, he doesn't grab it in frustration, but licks his lower lip in a hasty gesture.

"Did you kill him?"

Suoh is momentarily absent when asked a tense question despite being intimidating. A peaceful voice echoed before Suoh understood its meaning.

"Ah, I've heard that too. It is rumored that Suoh Mikoto killed a person named Mitsuha Kurayama."

Suoh saw the owner of the voice that did not fit the content at all. Totsuka makes a smiling face without feeling tension by removing the poison.

"But you didn't kill him, did you?"

In a noisy situation, Totsuka is creating a loose atmosphere by himself. Suoh clicked his tongue.

"What if I killed him?"

"What should I do? But you didn't kill him, did you, King?"

Totsuka says that with a face that seems to respond to a test of confidence. The men around him also seemed crazy because they did not adapt to the situation.

Suoh gets tired and opens his mouth to end the matter quickly. "I faced him because he sold me a fight... So after I hit him, I told him to disappear, and he disappeared."

The men mutter under their breath at the explanation.

"Did you beat Mitsuha-san?"

"Don't be silly, why would Mitsuba-san listen to you?"

The men said that. Suoh no longer responded. Just be quiet and look at the men in front of him.

The men were ready to attack Suoh. There are no signs of quitting. The hostility and aggressive will that emanate from them smell stronger. It is the smell of a beast that rises at the signs of violence.

The big man in the lead in a black tank top stepped forward. After that, a flashy blond man and a tall, thin man spread sideways as if trying to lock Suoh up. All three are in a combat pose. Suoh warned Totsuka who was behind, "Go away.", Without turning around.

"Damn. How dare you say you beat Mitsuha-san!"

The big man said that while raising his big arm. A powerful fist slices through the air and hits Suoh's left cheek.

He hears a buzzing in his ear for a moment. The hit part is hot.

A momentary sensation of shaking the world and the heat.

It was permission for Suoh to break free. A sign that he, who is forced to live in a small world, will rush to the front.

The edge of his mouth lifted. A smile comes naturally. The big man who hit Suoh looks into Suoh's eyes.

He shook his shoulder. The flashy blonde in the back yells and jumps up in a hurry, as if grabbing his foot for a moment and taking it in. A tall, thin man pulls a knife from his back pocket and raises the blade with just a snap of his wrist.

Hostility and targeted harm. It is a familiar feeling. Sparks that continue to fall punishing. It is annoying and frustrating. However, it was also true that he feels liberated from the narrow world only at this moment. He knew it was just a momentary illusion.

Suoh stabbed at his fangs and giggled, stepping out of the tight little place that was pushing him inside.

++++++++++

The big man, turned into a big lump on the street and spread conspicuously. The black tank top is damp with blood from the nose. The skinny man is crouched on his stomach, and a blond man with a puffy face is trying to provoke the large man to pass out, with a sigh.

The deal was completed in five minutes.

Suoh has a fist with the blood of one of the three men, wiping it loosely on the waistband of his pants.

The passing heat is easily removed, and he suddenly remember it with a cool head.

What happened to Totsuka?

Before the fight started, he was aware of him, but after it started, he completely forgot about his existence.

"Hey, help me!"

When the blond man managed to lift the large man's body, he hysterically called out to the other thin man. The skinny man looked down the street, holding his stomach with one arm. Find the knife that fell and try to pick it up. He can no longer see the fighting spirit anywhere. He guesses he's just trying to collect it.

But before that, a slim hand reached out and picked up the knife lying on the street.

It was Totsuka.

He has a slightly embarrassed look on his childish face and slowly bends the butterfly knife to close the blade.

"Put down the knife!"

Totsuka said that, thinking that he would pick it up as it was, simply handed the well-bent knife back to the thin man. The man looks great.

"Oh."

The blond man called again in a voice mixed with irritation and impatience. The skinny one grabs the knife with a complicated look, and when he puts it in his pocket, he stands up and goes to his friends. The blonde and the other grabbed the tall man by the arms and dragged his body.

Suoh didn't say a word and sees the men's backs.

"Hey, you're strong." Totsuka said.

The admiring voice is a bit old-fashioned and feels relaxed.

"If you stay with me, you will get hurt."

"Hey. I'm running away fast. More than that, take this."

Totsuka gives him a soda. It was a can of cola that was sweating a bit on the surface.

"What?"

"Your face. Put it on while it's cold."

He seems to refer to the cheek that received the first blow. In other words, when Suoh started fighting and was beaten, it appears that Totsuka went to buy a cola from the soda machine.

He thought he was a fuzzy guy, and that he was scared and lost.

Suoh receives the can of cola that Totsuka offered him and puts it on his cheek. Feel a little tingling and a pleasant coldness on his cheek. However, it got troublesome in a few seconds, put the can down and grab the tab.

"Oh, if you don't cool it down yet, will it swell later?"

"Shut up."

"Is it good? Is it really good?"

Suoh caused a jerk, even though he was skeptical of Totsuka. Immediately after that, a column of brown bubbles stood in front of him.

It's bright enough to be inadvertently overlooked, with cola bubbles gushing from the open can.

Shining in the light of the city center at night, the tail sprouted out with a refreshing sound and fell on Suoh's head.

"……"

Suoh stared at Totsuka's face, glue dripping from the tip of his chin.

Totsuka was also blessed with the cola and his face was drenched.

"Fu."

Totsuka laughed as if he couldn't bear it. He shakes his wet head like a dog to get rid of the water, holds his stomach and laughs.

"Ahahahahaha, I didn't think it'd gush out until now. Wow, I got wet too."

"I shook it."

"It would have been safe if you had cooled your face properly. Anyway, I've never seen such a good way to release. Unsurprisingly, King has something!"

Suoh was in awe of Totsuka, who laughed and wanted to take a picture.

He has never seen anyone approach Suoh like this ordinary stupid student.

After all, this is probably stupid.

"Fu."

Suoh laughed inadvertently. Certainly the current way of squirting glue was quite wonderful. Is a carbonated drink something that spreads great?

Something was wrong with something that didn't matter. It felt cold and a little comfortable when it came down, and it was slimy with peripheral skin and was sticky. When he rubbed his lips, it was sweet.

It's rubbish, it's not good, but it's kind of weird.

When he saw it, Totsuka had round eyes.

Looking back to see why he made that grimace, he smiled more than ever.

"Haha, King laughed!"

Totsuka laughs happier than before.

Suddenly, Suoh hit Totsuka's head lightly with his fist. Totsuka held his head as if it had hurt, but was laughing.

Suoh pointed with his mouth and capped the glue that was left in the can. When he tried to walk with Totsuka who was still laughing without discipline, he felt the signals of several people approaching him.

"Totsuka, what are you doing?"

"That person is Suoh Mikoto, right?"

They were the guys who were with Totsuka at the game center a little while ago. The smell of hostility isn't even dust. Just a little fear and a little curiosity mix and get closer.

Totsuka finally laughs and looks at the guys who seem to be friends.

"Ah, yes. Suoh Mikoto."

He said the name they just said, and after that, Totsuka…

"He's King!" Totsuka added.

"Why King?" "It's a nickname?" The boys mysteriously bowed their heads and Totsuka responded with a smile. Inevitably, he was dressed to be surrounded by boys even with Suoh.

While standing in the center of the children and drinking cola, Suoh suddenly remembered his teacher's words.

(When someone who can easily break through the walls that seem to surround you appears, you will become a central figure among the people. As if the things of now have never happened.)

It smelled of annoyance. But for some reason it wasn't unpleasant.

++++++++++

Nogi played with a butterfly knife in his hand as he endured the tingling of his lean body huddled and beaten.

Rhythmically, the metallic sound of the knife opening and closing sounds soft. The blade and handle of the knife flap like a butterfly and rotate as the wrist is moved slightly. After practicing a lot, he has been able to do it without being too conscious of his hands.

"Damn it, what is that 'Mikoto Beast'!"

Sakata angrily hits the table hard with his fist. The boastful muscles that stretched from the black tank top trembled. Suoh fainted him, but he woke up while being carried. It seems like his pride got hurt because he was suddenly stretched out, and his face was still bright red from a while ago with embarrassment and anger.

Kyosuke was cooling his face with a wet towel. The hair in the back is untied, and the blonde hair sticks to the face. This man in parentheses was worried that his front teeth had been broken and he had been silent for a while. The blood-soaked front teeth are carefully tucked away in the breast pocket.

The three were in a bar, where an acquaintance worked part time. The interior, which was based on black, was dark, and not very clean. The store was empty, with just a couple drinking cocktails and a hooded man sitting with his back to the back table.

Glancing sideways at the wild trees spreading negative aura in the wind after the fight, the pair secretly exchange words with a disgusting face as if they were planning to go home. The single male guest didn't even turn around.

Nogi, Sakata, and Kyosuke were members of Mitsuha Kurayama's team.

Kurayama was strong, bad, and cool. They even felt that they could take over the world if they followed him. He felt like Hidekichi Toyomi, who was a peasant who followed Nobunaga Oda.

Nogi has been crazy since he was a kid. His house was poor and his parents were not interested in Nogi. His face was not ugly, but there was nothing to see, and the slim body was somewhat ugly. Still, he was good when he was in elementary school. He had athletic nerves, so if he could play sports, he could rank high in elementary school and among the neighborhood kids.

However, since he was in high school, he has been ridiculed a lot. At best, he had no passion or patience to pursue a sport, and he immediately threw it away. Nogi, who was used to being treated as mere leftovers, joined the bad group. When it came to bad luck, few people were stupid in front of him. Being a feared man didn't feel bad. Even with a face that had nothing to do with it, if he dressed in street fashion and behaved appropriately, he could play with a woman who roamed the city. It got even more fun after he started dating Sakata and Kyosuke, whom he met in town. Sakata, who is big and proud of his power, is a bit fluffy to ruin the leader's style, but his fighting strength is good, so if he was riding that horse, Nogi could also dominate. Kyosuke, who is proud of the number of women he has, is annoying and conceited, but if he stayed with him, he could get along with a woman.

He kept chasing only the funny things in front of him. He felt that if he followed Mitsuha Kurayama, he might see more funny eyes. So one day when Mitsuha suddenly disappeared, he was confused.

It is said that Mitsuha Kurayama was crushed by Suoh and disappeared as Suoh ordered. What a fucking brat.

And although the three attacked together, they suddenly lost.

Crash, crash, crash.

The opening and closing of the knife Nogi is playing with becomes violent with irritation.

Suddenly, Nogi remembered the high school student who was on Suoh's side. In fact, he met him before. From the above situation, it seems likely that he does not remember the other side.

Nogi and Totsuka met while hanging out at Shizume. The guys who were walking together at that time knew each other. In other words, the relationship is from acquaintances to acquaintances. Acquaintances started talking to each other, so somehow everyone in the place knew each other. He forgets what they were talking about, but Nogi showed Totsuka a knife action.

With just a slight snap on his wrist, he can instantly open and close the bent knife. Seeing the knife spinning with a slight metallic sound, Totsuka's eyes twinkled, "It's amazing!" It was just nice to be respected. He was in a good mood and told him the various heroic stories that he had lived through so far. He talks about the kind of fight he experiences, what kind of bad things he did, and how scared he was. Totsuka didn't spew out the words of respect that he had when he saw the action of the knife, he just said, "Hmm. If you do that, you're an ordinary person."

It was a bit stuffy. He felt as if a painful part had been hit. Nogi is an "ordinary person", as Totsuka says, when he is not with anyone. He was only strong when he was with someone and he could be great.

However, Totsuka's words were so clear that he was sick, but not angry. Somewhere in his heart he had the feeling that he was convinced it was so.

When he remembered that moment, his feeling of frustration spun and he calmed down. He means, it doesn't matter.

Nogi closes the blade of the knife and stops his hand.

"Now it is okay."

Mitsuha Kurayama is gone. He respected his with a strong feeling of admiration for being a dark hero, but he lost to Suoh Mikoto, abandoned the team members, and ran away somewhere.

It may be time to return to the "common person." Nogi is already eighteen years old. He can't avoid it forever and has to find a job to eat.

Sakata looked Nogi in the eye.

"Will you withdraw without revenge?"

"Ok. Mitsuha lost to him and ran away with his tail between his legs. What does it mean for us to get revenge?"

"One, even if I put Mitsuha-san aside, the truth is that he beat us! Let's just leave it at that!"

Even with that, Nogi inwardly thinks that they can't beat him. Kyosuke was silent and compared Nogi and Sakata with sullen eyes.

Nogi searches for a reason to be okay with Suoh, and as if he had guessed it, he sharpened his mouth and said carelessly.

"Did you see who the Beast Mikoto was with? It's a boy. Is the beast with a boy like that? Let's throw he away. It's worth it."

It is a vain defeat. Still, it was better than admitting that he couldn't get his hands or legs out. Sakata still has an angry red-black face, and even if he is looking for a counterargument, he moves his mouth.

"It's worth it, isn't it?"

Suddenly, he hear a voice behind Nogi. The hair on the neck is erect.

He turned around to repel it. The bent butterfly knife slips from his sweaty hands and rolls across the floor with a thud.

A man stood up.

It has a slim but strong body. How to lose weight with firm muscles, which is different from normal weight loss. He wore a hood over his eyes, but he took it off. Sharp, deeply carved features and golden hair were exposed. And the upper half of the right ear, decorated with five piercings, does not exist as if it were torn off.

Nogi pursed his lips. The breathing and heartbeat are faster.

"Mitsuha-san…"

It was Earless Mitsuha.

This man who was a wolf made a team and quickly made it huge. Fearful of being violent, he suddenly abandoned his huge team and disappeared.

Mitsuha Kurayama is right in front of him.

Nogi swallowed the words. The other two are also amazed. Sakata, who had turned his face red and black with anger until a while ago, now has a fair complexion, and Kyosuke, who was worried about his broken teeth, is also opening his mouth.

"Suoh is it worth the effort?"

Kurayama said again. He bows his head with an innocent look like a child.

He was afraid of the innocent gesture. He felt anxiety throughout his body that he did not know what to do in the next moment.

Kurayama has a 500 ml bottle of Deutsche Beer in one hand. He moves with a slight movement.

If he weren't good at drinking or were already drunk, beer that overflows from the edge of his mouth runs down his chin.

"Mitsuha-san… you are here. Why until now…"

He says with a shaking voice. Originally, he was a bloody person. Even his assistants did not know where he usually lives, and in the end, Nogi was unable to contact Kurayama directly.

He does not recall exchanging words face to face except for greetings.

Kurayama picked up Nogi's knife that had fallen under his feet and started to play with it in his hand.

With an insecure hand, it looks like he is about to cut his hand. He is apparently not used to handling knives.

"I had to disappear a bit, so I hid."

Kurayama opened his mouth lazily.

"Why?"

"I promised."

Kurayama said in a completely confused childish tone. Sakata asks intimidatingly with a confused face.

"Who did you promise?"

"To Suoh Mikoto."

Nogi and his colleagues instinctively looked at the name. It bothered them that the name, which was heavily wrapped as a cause of Mitsuha's pain, anger and abandonment, was emitted from Kurayama's mouth.

"Did you fight Suoh Mikoto?"

When Sakata asked that question, Kurayama nodded.

"And I lost. I promised to hear what he said if I lost, so I had to disappear. That's it."

Kurayama says while playing with the knife. Although he was slow a while ago, he improved in no time and the speed of opening and closing the knife increased steadily.

Nogi swallowed the words. Kurayama seems sincere. Still, he didn't understand why he was bound by the promise to Suoh. Kurayama looked at Nogi's face. It makes he feel like he has read his inner feelings in his expression. Kurayama actually seems to have read his heart.

"I was looking forward to keeping my promise to Mikoto. That guy is interesting, isn't he?"

He had no choice but to nod at Kurayama from a distance. Nogi and the others tug their jaws awkwardly.

"Suoh Mikoto it's worth it, isn't it?"

Worth it. Nogi's spine chills when he remembers his words, which he said as a loss. He nodded deeply again, trying to get into Kurayama's mood.

Kurayama returned a smile. The hands that turn the knife are becoming more and more sophisticated, almost the same as those of Nogi, who has been practicing for a long time.

"I promised to disappear, but now I am free. Please ask me about my entertainment."

Kurayama intimately fixed the knife he was playing with like a sword. He throws it out suddenly. Nogi's entire body stiffened.

He immediately thought it would kill him.

Kurayama threw the knife. Fly straight into Nogi's face. Nogi couldn't react and suffocated.

The knife grabbed right next to Nogi and flew back.

"Oh, in the middle."

Mitsuha Kurayama said happily.

Looking back, the knife was stuck in the center of the dart board at the back of the tent.

Sweat trickled down his armpits. It hits so hard it hurts his heart.

Kurayama smiled innocently and said, "So, will you ask me?"

++++++++++

"Oh, Tatara. Isn't that funny to you?"

As soon as he opened the door, Mikio Ishigami, Totsuka's father, said. When he returned for the first time in a week and the first greeting made Totsuka, who was preparing a meal in the kitchen, a little surprised.

"Welcome back, uncle. For the moment, don't say it now."

"Yes, I'm home. And... sorry, I had a light when I ran away."

Ishigami looks uncomfortable and has a shy smile. Apparently, when he escapes from debt collectors, he feels guilty for Totsuka.

Totsuka's uncle Mikio Ishigami is a bastard.

The look is medium in size, and while he's not particularly cool, he does look like someone not unpleasant, and he looks quite young thanks to the naturally permed fluffy hair that doesn't seem too bad. He has a friendly personality and is not a bad guy. However, he was a selfish person and could only do what he liked.

What's worse, gambling makes up a large part of his "favorite". The Ishigami family were poor to a level that felt life-threatening at times, as they only worked when they felt like it, and the money they put in quickly melted into the gamble. When Totsuka was a child, he used to gather wild grass and cook because he ate alone while Ishigami was away. Thanks to that, Totsuka is still familiar with edible herb.

"Yeah. Debt collectors wouldn't even catch me and sell me."

"If they sell you, I'll buy you back correctly."

"Should I thank you?"

"It's okay if you think you're on a big ship. I've made money and paid the debt."

"Oh, did you win? Horse racing? Boat race?"

"The horse listened to my wish."

"Hey, then I have to thank the horse."

After making a slight exchange, Totsuka remembers his uncle's first words and bows his head.

"By the way, did I look happy? I'm crazy about potatoes."

"No, I don't think it's fun to do it now..."

Ishigami sits in front of the chabudai and puts on a thoughtful face. Totsuka returned to his frying pan. The potatoes are starting to brown nicely. The oil entwined with the potatoes made a delicious sound.

"You always manage to live without leaving me fragile and without coming home for a while, and I always find something fun."

"You should have fun, right?"

"Of course, it's better to have fun."

Ishigami nodded and then looked at Totsuka more closely again.

"However, I feel like something is a little different from the usual "it seems fun". I think it seems like you've found more "cool stuff"..."

Totsuka opened his eyes. He never thought this guy would say such a thing.

"Uncle, isn't it amazing?"

"Is that true? After all, I am you..."

Ishigami said it with a good face, and along the way, he looked like he was in trouble and made him cover his mouth. He tries to say, "I am your father", but it seems like he got scared along the way. This person wants to be Totsuka's father, but runs away to avoid facing the role of a father. No, he knows that a parent's position of responsibility just isn't right for him in the first place.

"I've been living with you for a long time."

"Yes."

Totsuka smiled at Ishigami. Ishigami also laughs like he's relieved.

"So what happened?"

"I met a great person. Maybe the world will change."

"A woman?"

"Is a man."

"What?"

Ishigami was disappointed, and easily shifted his interest from the subject to the issue at hand.

"What are you doing anyway?"

"Potatoes."

When he came home from school today, the neighbor shared the potatoes that her relatives sent her. She is a person who usually cares about Totsuka and gives him (the last time she gave him gobo tea).

"Potatoes? In other words, is it a potato?"

"Yes. I can't make meaty potatoes because I can't buy meat. But the seasoning is meat-potato-style, and I use the potatoes with no waste. When I bake the skin-on potatoes until golden brown, they are fragrant and delicious."

His face glowed as he lifted and displayed the contents of the pan that was on the stove in the kitchen.

"Relieve me. I have money today. If it's meat, I'll buy the best. Marbling."

"Man, I don't use marbling for the beef potato."

"Well then what should I buy?"

"Okay, I'll buy it."

When Totsuka smiled, Ishigami nodded and took the crumpled 10,000-yen bill out of his pocket and presented it.

"You can buy whatever you want."

"Are you really rich today?"

When Totsuka laughs and receives the money, he goes to the front door and says he will go.

"Tatara."

"Yes?"

When he was called and looked back, Ishigami also had a shy and awkward smile on his face.

"Sorry, for several things."

Totsuka had trouble answering for a moment, but immediately thought that it was not a word for an answer, and left the house saying, "Meat, but wait for it."

The days have gotten longer recently. It is almost night, but there is no sign of sunset and the sky is a beautiful blue.

The weather is unstable at this time of the season change, and while it looked like a summer production before, it was a bit chilly today.

Totsuka walks down the path to a nearby supermarket while looking up at the sky. When he reached into his pocket, the ticket he received from Ishigami made a loud noise.

Ishigami is the type of person who has no money to transfer. Even if he does get money, he will spend it immediately, so there is basically no way to raise his standard of living.

However, Totsuka had no complaints. He thought it would be nice if Ishigami had fun, and he is not dissatisfied with living with Ishigami. Even in a slightly difficult life, he can enjoy the ingenuity of living there and living happily.

However, generally speaking, Totsuka was an unhappy child. The person who picked him up when he was abandoned, was divorced (the person who was Ishigami's wife was drawn to his kindness and joined, but became desperate over his inability to live). Totsuka lives alone with his uncle, who does not earn much money and leaves Totsuka, who is still a child, alone at home and is out for days.

Once, Totsuka's living conditions were judged, he was deemed to have suffered abuse and was about to be protected.

It was a bad situation for Totsuka, so he survived with his own ability, and Ishigami also survived by acting like a real human being.

If Ishigami was burdened by Totsuka's existence, it would have been safe to go to another sheltered place, and he would be sure that he could live happily again. However, as Ishigami was willing to live with Totsuka as always, he was not convinced that they would take him out as a poor child.

He think he should escape from a difficult place. Totsuka is by no means a patient child. It doesn't feel like he is enduring a difficult life. So Totsuka is not sure that the place is difficult.

It should be difficult due to this situation. He is sorry for him and for this situation. It was calmer for Totsuka to have such a frame than unrelated people trying to cover him.

Ishigami doesn't seem to have such a "frame".

Suddenly, Totsuka thought of Suoh with someone.

Usually, he doesn't "frame" anyone. No, he himself exists as a natural thing in the world, he hates "frames" that try to fit all humans.

When Totsuka met Suoh, he thought he was like a lion.

Those who live instinctively without being bound by the human framework.

He really felt that he could see the aura coming out of his body. In words, it's just a feeling of intimidation, but the moment he sees it, Totsuka is big and strong.

He felt that he met a beast that lived in the desert. But in fact, this is not a desert.

In the city where many humans live pushing "marks" against each other, the beast seemed terribly difficult to live there.

Looking at the beast that walks through the city in search of a desert that does not exist, Totsuka wanted to show the beast that there is also something fun in this city.

He still doesn't know what to do, but he follows Suoh as he is driven by that urge.

He would like to show "fun" to Suoh, who seems to be crouched, stiff and frustrated, and see where he goes.

(You one day...)

When the words that a person said to Totsuka when he was a child crossed his mind, it had a strong impact on his back.

Something slammed into his back with force, and Totsuka choked and flew forward. He hit the street and rub the asphalt hard. The impact on his back was so strong that he felt nothing immediately, but when he got up with his arms raised, he felt a hot tingle on his rubbed cheeks.

"What…"

Totsuka looks back.

What he saw there was the silhouette of three men. One of the silhouettes carried a long stick that looked like square wood in his hand. Backlit, the sprayed stick looked like a black shadow.

"Eh?"

Unaware of the situation, Totsuka watched the stick go down.

The stick was knocked down on the left side of Totsuka. The impact to the limbs and severe pain tore through him.

A crushed voice escaped from the back of his throat.

When the sight that had been torn away for a moment returned from the shock, the struck foot felt hot and painful, and, on the contrary, the body felt terribly cold. Sweat breaks out.

Scared by severe pain, Totsuka raised his face as he curled up on the ground as if he was holding his injured leg. Look at the faces of the three men around him.

It was a familiar face. The other day, a trio who sold a fight to Suoh and got beaten up. A large, muscular man, a man of medium height with long blond hair down his back, and a tall, thin man. There was a uniform smile on their faces. A face that seems to be afraid of something, but is undoubtedly drunk with the uplifting sense of violence.

There was only one possible reason for them to attack Totsuka. Finding an outlet for anger with a weak man who was on Suoh's side, despite the pain and shame at having lost to Suoh.

(Hey, I get away fast.)

He remembered his words to Suoh. The escape leg was crushed. He can't even stand up, not just run. Most of the time he has a hard time.

Then he should try talking to them. Even when entangled with someone, Totsuka was good at removing damage from that person by speaking.

But now the pain is distracting him, and nothing comes out of his mouth except a harsh, rapid breath.

The big man let out a laugh like a sigh.

"If you have a grudge, face Suoh."

At the same time, he kicks Totsuka's shoulder who was lying on his back.

The blond man also gave a tight laugh and jumped on Totsuka's belly and stepped on him. He could not breathe due to the strong shock and pain. A feeling of fear that internal organs are about to explode hits him.

From there it was already spoiled.

Picked up, hit, rolled and kicked. When he held his arm to protect his body, they kicked him severely and stepped on his finger.

Severe unconscious pain and greasy sweat. The body is shocked by excessive pain, and the stomach turns upside down and vomits.

Totsuka was shaken with pain, but when the surprise of the sudden pain subsided, he felt a part of his head go quiet and his thoughts returned.

This is "violence".

He believes that, as if he realized it in his soul.

So far, he has seen the "violence" up close. He has seen the fight scene and seen Suoh defeat these men in front of him with violence. To some extent, Totsuka has been mistreated by others.

However, now that he has been exposed to an assault that destroys the human body, he has realized for the first time that the core of Totsuka's body is "violence".

These people were completely drugged. They laughed, uttered dirty swear words, almost meaningless. Atrocities make people nervous. Fall into a milky state due to violence.

Unlike the men who were excited by violence, Totsuka, who understood violence and began to move from the turn of confusion and fear to the turn of patience, was calm.

A bit of discomfort was reflected in the men's eyes.

The men are intoxicated and excited by the violence. However, at the end of that expression, there was certainly a color of "fear".

Are you afraid of getting here? Do they feel guilty, even slightly? He tries to find out, but cannot make up his mind.

When he was looking at the men with his body curled up to reduce the damage even slightly, he recognized the thin man. He took a deep breath and said with his lips without cheating.

"I don't want to see sore eyes!"

Saying that as an excuse for something, the man's leg kicked Totsuka in the head like a soccer ball.

His consciousness darkened, as if the lights in the room were off.

#k #k project #k novel #mikoto suoh #totsuka tatara #Izumo Kusanagi #homura #kor #k Kingdom of red #kingdom of red

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the-gayest-dump · 4 years

Text

A half-orc and his ax. Chapter 1: Welcome to Warwick.

It’s been a year since the death of the battleborn tribe. Ox was now 21 and had been living off of the land just as his mother had taught him. Kill and take only what you need, use every piece of your kill, never kill the women or children, and always replace what you take when you can.

The half-orc was seven feet of muscular and scarred gray skin now wearing an iron helmet that covered his entire head but his eyes and jaw. The helmet had a cut on the left side from where Ox had knocked the former wearer down but it still served its purpose. He chose not to wear a shirt so he could move easier and show his enemies that this was not his first battle. The only thing that covered his back was his father’s ax that fit into a holster that slung through his arms like a travelers’ backpack and let the ax stay on his back. The ax had a dark green blade with blades on both the left and right side so its owner could cut in any direction necessary and a long handle for two hands. Third-degree burns went around his arms and several scars from cuts too deep to heal covered his chest and back. He knew the story and face of every scar and who caused it for he was proud to have fought a worthy opponent. His pants were made of simple brown wool that reached his black leather boots that were from his father.

The brute had been surviving well off of the land but he could not do everything himself. He was a warrior, not a medic or priest. He knew of simple remedies using the medicine the local flora provided but the wounds he was receiving were beginning to be too big for a novice healer to handle. He knew a town was nearby his camp for he set it up there on purpose to protect them if bandits ever attempted to raid them but Ox was not sure what would await him inside those gates. He was raised to know that all living beings are strong in their own way but what would they think of a battle-scarred warrior walking into their town? He had never been in a town and for all he knew he was a completely new creature that no one had ever seen before. How would they react to not only a warrior but a half-orc warrior? He decided to take a day to introduce himself to the town and hopefully make some allies.

It was a bright and sunny day when Ox prepared for his journey into the city. It had rained the night before but now not a single cloud lingered. Ox put out his campfire after finishing the boar he had caught the day before and set out towards the town. A ten-foot-tall wall made out of cobblestone surrounded the town from basic intruders such as wildlife and bandits with no tools. Archers filled small towers every few feet to keep a lookout and provide support to fighting guards. Ox approached the large oak gate where he saw merchants enter frequently when two spears crossed together and blocked his path. He looked at the two guards wondering what they were doing as this had never happened for the merchants.

“You ain’t from around here big guy. State your business.” Stated the guard to his left. They were both outfitted in iron armor that covered their entire bodies with a single slit to see through on the helmets. The voice sounded deep and wise as an old veteran warrior.

“Business?”

“Why do you wish to enter?” Clarified the other. This voice sounded lighter and calmer than the other.

“Ox lives near town.” He said pointing to where he had set up camp for the night. “Ox wants to meet people and see how Ox can help.”

The guards looked at each other as if comparing notes with their eyes to tell if the other trusted him or not.

“If work is what you’re looking for there’s a notice board in the central plaza. Don’t cause any trouble and there won’t be any trouble. Got it?”

“Plaza?”

The left guard sighed as the right clarified again “Big open area in the center of down. Keep going forward from this gate and you’ll see it. Welcome to Warwick”

Ox nodded as the guards removed their spears and the gate opened. As he entered he could hear the guards whisper

“Not too bright that one is he?” Said the man that was to his left.

“Like you can talk. Last night you couldn’t remember your husband’s name and you’ve been together for 5 years now.” replied the girl.

“That’s different. You know how I am with too much mead. That ones completely sober and doesn’t seem to know how a pronoun works!”

“Yeah, and Joseph is a hard name to remember, right old man?”

“This is why we never talk on duty.”

Not the best but certainly not the worst way Ox had been greeted before. Inside the gates, the town had simple worn down dirt paths showing the most common routes to all of the homes and stores which were made primarily of wood with strong oak doors. Pine and oak trees could be seen surrounding the outside walls and signs jotted out of every building that was not a home telling what they were. Most of these words Ox had never seen before. Temple? Witches cauldron? Leatherworkers? He would have to explore these after finding the notice board. The streets were almost empty aside from smaller vendors shouting for attention.

Following the guards’ directions, Ox found the notice board that seemed to be made of parchment more than wood with several notices covering older ones. Most of the notices were from the town guards about festival times or public notices with some bounties here and there. Some notices, despite being hidden underneath several others, caught the brute’s eye. One said “Please save our little girl” and showed a crude drawing of a half-elf girl that looked to be in her teens and immediately beside it “WANTED: Alasar “Deaths Hand” Yanthor. Dead or alive”. With another drawing showing a middle-aged….creature that was certainly not any race he had ever seen. Scales covered the man’s face as if he was an overgrown lizard with a large maniacal smile showing that sharp carnivorous teeth filled his mouth while piercing eyes seemed to scream “Catch me if you can”. Both were posted near the same date but had been on the board for weeks. Ox took both of them off the board and followed the address listed if interested.

The directions brought Ox to a two-story building made of cobblestone with a sign coming out of the wall that said “Armory”. An area next to the door had been cut out to let citizens watch the guards train or talk to the person at the desk inside the armory. A girl with dark brown hair raised into a small ponytail was currently behind the desk wearing the same armor as the gate guards but had taken off the helmet for comfort and visibility. She was mumbling to herself as Ox approached saying “Can’t believe those fuckers gave me desk duty again. You break ONE man’s arm and-.” She stopped when she noticed Ox standing awkwardly beside the desk waiting for her to finish as not to be rude. With a very noticeable fake cheery voice, she introduced herself

“Well hello there!” The fake cheer annoyed Ox more than it should have but he let her continue “My name is Opal and I’ll be answering any questions you have today.” She finished with a smile that seemed like it physically hurt her to put on as the warrior put the notices down in front of her

“Where find family and bastard?” He explained pointing at the daughter and bandit respectively.

“First of all let me speak on behalf of the city of Warwick by thanking you for-”

“Stop.” Ox interrupted.

“Stop?”

“No fake voice, no smile. Ox will not tell others. Just be self.” He tried giving a reassuring smile that just seemed weird to her but she got the point.

“Oh thank Marisol I hate putting on that persona for the people!” she exclaimed in a much lower and natural-sounding voice. “I shouldn’t have to sound like a merchant trying to sell some garbage she paid too much for and has to make a profit to people. I’m a guard! I’m supposed to sound tough to show people they’re safe!” she sighed and collected herself before continuing

“Sorry. Long day. Anyway, the Gray household is next to the leatherworkers. They can tell you about the kidnapping and this-” She stopped upon seeing the wanted poster and leaned back in her wooden chair to get a better look at the new person in town. “I haven’t seen you here before” she stated looking at the ax and scars on Ox “You’re clearly no trainee with that many stories to tell on you. What’s your game? Bounty hunter? Sellsword? A knight that lost his armor?”

Ox looked more and more confused with each suggestion. Were these clan names? The last one seemed too long to be a clan but that was all he could think of.

“Battleborn” he replied hoping he guessed correctly.

“The fuck is a battleborn? That the name of your group?”

“Clan.”

“What’s your code of arms?”

Instead of answering he tried to change the subject so more strange words wouldn’t come out of her mouth “Why does angry one care?”

“These are high-level bounties you’re picking up here. Both related to each other and I don’t want to send some newbie to his death. This isn’t some kid who ran away from home and made a band of idiots serve him. This is a dragonborn who’ll roast you without any pleasantries.”

“Dragonborn?”

“Person with a high amount of dragon in their blood. Not a direct descendant but enough to gain some benefits from his bloodline. Elemental breath of whatever their ancestor likes, sharp claws, natural scales, and usually a massive ego.”

“Ox can take scaley man down a size. Where is bastard?”

“Alright. Don’t come crying to me when those burns on your arm start adding up. If you go out the north gate and follow the road you’ll see an old fort. That’s where he is and presumably where he’s keeping the girl. Come back here with his head and the girl as proof and you’ll get some gold for your trouble. Don’t come back and I’ll mention how strange you look in some stories at the tavern.”

“Thank you. Ox will be back tomorrow”

“I look forward to it.”

Finding the Gray household wasn’t as easy as the armory since all houses were nearly identical in structure and materials but eventually Ox found the correct house and lightly knocked on the door. He had to crouch down so his face could be seen through the door since this town was obviously not built for anyone above 6ft tall. A small woman with dark wrinkly skin and medium length straight gray hair answered the door as she was talking to someone

“I promise I’ll remember the peaches this time dear I’ve even written it on my- AHHH!” She let out a horrid scream upon seeing Ox in her doorway and he grabbed his ax and looked for who had frightened her. She slammed the door as he continued searching and she screamed “Guard! Guards how the hell did a bandit get in the city!?”

Not finding anyone that matched her description and all nearby eyes being on Ox he finally realized he was the ‘bandit’ in question and knocked on the door again “Ox is not a bandit. Ox wants to help wi-”

“You can help yourself to a big slice of burn in hell! Was taking our daughter not enough for you fuckers!? You want to come and finish us off now!?”

Since the house was close to the gate one of the guards for it came rushing over to the disturbance “Hey there again big guy. Find everything alright? Sorry about my friend. He’s just cranky all the time.”

Ox wondered how she could be so calm when someone was calling for her to take off his head but nodded and showed her the notices he had taken.

“Can’t wait to see those done. Oh and don’t worry about Mrs. Gray. She scares easily. Having her think you’re a bandit that got a hold of guard armor is practically a part of your initiation here. Sorry for not warning you about her”

“Ox is sorry to scare her. Can scared one please calm down?” He said sounding sad for disturbing this woman.

“Yeah hold on.” the guard went up and knocked loudly on the door and screamed in “Mrs. Gray there’s no bandits for the thousandth time this month! This here is a new person who wants to help ya find your daughter and kill Alasar!”

“Well, why didn’t he speak up or at least put on a damn shirt!? Not right walking around civilized folk like you just crawled out of a cave!” she said as she opened the door again. Ox looked at himself and thought ‘Ox not from cave…..’ as she invited him to crouch inside.

The home was rather small with the kitchen and living room only separated by kitchen counters and three closed doors along the walls. The living room had a few chairs and a table with a bottom compartment that held various tools for hobbies such as sewing and woodworking kits. Ox took a seat as he waited for details.

“Honey! Another one wants to disappoint us today!” Mrs. Gray called out. Another elderly woman with a lighter skin tone and hair kept in a bun came out “I told you time and time again if you keep talking like that no one’s going to ever volunteer again.” She looked at Ox with a smile and held out her hand “Stella Gray. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Ox. Ox knows-”

“Yeah, you know everything we put on that notice. She was taken late at night while trying to find local ingredients to cook with when bandits nabbed her. Guards told you where the fort is. Now get going”

Stella silently glared at her partner before she corrected herself with a sigh “Look. I’m sorry. You’re probably a swell fellow and you’re very skilled and offering to help from the bottom of your heart but I’m just tired. Our little girl has been gone for weeks and every week some brave young adventuring type swears on their life they’ll get Sylis back and the next day either their corpse turns up at the gate or they come back with a bunch of excuses about how tough they are and they couldn’t do anything and blah, blah, blah.” She put her head in her hands and sighed again as Stella continued

“Sylis isn’t our daughter through blood as you can probably tell from the picture. We found her lost in the woods outside town and tried to find her parents. The guards found them but not in any kind of state a little girl should be hearing her parents are in. We tried finding someone to take her in since we thought ourselves too old to be caring for younglings but no one would have her and treat her right. We don’t know why bandits would take her of all people from this town. We’re not wealthy by any means so we can’t pay any ransom even if we did receive one.”

“Ox will not bore wise ones with Ox’s skills since wise ones have heard skills before but Ox will try to bring little one home safe and take bastards head with.”

“Well, we look forward to it if you can. I wish I could offer you more information or something to help you but that’s all we know. May Marisol light your way.” They both waved goodbye to Ox as he left the city gates and once again heard the guards talking behind him.

“You think he’s gonna make it?”

“You ever seen someone that big before old man? He can definitely take Alasar one on one but I don’t know about his entire camp.”

“50 gold says we find his corpse at the gate next shift”

“You really wanna lose your gold that bad? Deal.”

‘At least someone believes in Ox’ he thought. They will know that Ox does not break promises, especially concerning the death of bandits, in due time.

#a half orc and his ax #chapter 1 #fantasy #story #orcs #bandits #dragonborn #magic #mages #D&D #dungeons and dragons #Ox

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gospelofsam · 4 years

Text

PASSING DAYS

OOI.

Twin ravens circled the clear Vanaheim skies, their mix of blue and green feathers glistening in the summer sun like newly polished gems. Below them, a wild landscape stretched on for miles in either direction. It was beautiful, yet untamed, much like the Vanir who resided there.

Campsites dotted the plains, going on for as far as the eye could see. An arena was nestled somewhere in the middle of them all, hidden behind tall blades of yellowing grass and wildflowers. The entirety of the Vanir realm was overgrown, as were most of its occupants in their own right. Wild, untamed and free.

One of the ravens, Hugin, perched on the branch of a lone oak tree. He ruffled his bright blue feathers. His beady green eyes followed two bodies as they travelled down the tilled path. Interested was the bird. Interested and watching, as was his job.

The two stopped in their tracks, resting at the tree where Hugin had perched himself. They took a seat under the shade the expanse of leaves provided, talking and laughing amongst themselves. One, the boy, tossed a square of wood between each of his hands, his golden hair falling out from the man bun and into his face. He had sharp features, but not the kind that might scare someone off. No, they were gentle in their own ways, soft where it mattered the most. His eyes were as green as the landscape he was sitting in, as were the girls who leaned into him.

Hugin, from what he could see from his place on the branch, could immediately tell the two were related. The girl’s hair, though, was much darker, as red as the autumn leaves. Yet they shared the same flawless complexion, the same emerald eyes, and the same pointed features. Elves, the raven assumed, possibly from Folkvangr, the Vanir parallel to Valhalla.

“We should really get going,” the boy piped up, dropping his moving hands to the ground. They still fidgeted, Hugin noted, always ready and anxious for something new. Something more exciting than simply resting in the grass. “The others are probably waiting up for us, you know.”

The girl rolled her eyes, a strand of her auburn hair popping out from the braid that rested over her shoulder. Her face was speckled in dirt, but that didn’t keep from the fact that she was a looker. “They know their way back. A couple of more minutes won’t hurt them.” She beamed at the other. A bright, happy grin like that was infectious. It made you want to smile, to keep her happy for as long as you could. The boy, who, like the girl who accompanied him, still remained nameless to Hugin. Munin, his sister, might have known, but she was still surveying the area, keeping watch over the realm their master dared not to go.

The boy chose to return her smile, though he seemed hesitant to do so. He took the small wood black back into his hands, passing it under and over his slender fingers. Possibly to occupy himself, Hugin was unsure.

After a few moments of silence, Munin, who’s feathers were more green than blue, landed on the branch opposite of him. Her eyes were a shining blue, much like Hugin’s feathers. She nodded at him, pointing her beak downwards at the brother and sister. Ah. So, these were the two they had been sent to find. Together, their bodies changed and shifted to look more human. Twin shapeshifters sat on the branch where the birds had once been. They couldn’t have been older than fifteen, maybe sixteen, but time and was easily disguisable.

Munin plucked unruly feathers from her dark green hair, setting them in a neat pile beside her. Her hair fell in waves above her shoulder, but her eyes remained the same piercing blue. She looked accustomed to Vanaheim’s wild terrain, donning Doc Martin boots, denim jeans and a flannel. In her usual fashion, the articles of clothing all shared the green color scheme.

Hugin, on the other hand, had much shorter, much more vibrant blue hair, mirroring the bright blue feathers his raven form bore. He and Munin’s color schemes were inversed, hers being mostly green, while his consisted of various shades of blue clothing. Unlike his sister, he was undoubtedly unprepared for the realm of the Vanir, having dressed in an oversized blue, almost black, sweater, jean capris, and sneakers. Munin gave an annoyed look, which Hugin countered by blowing a raspberry. He was mature like that.

The two raven spies of Odin dropped down from their oaken perch, frightening the elven siblings as they landed. Well, more so when Munin landed. Hugin, who hadn’t timed his own jump right, hit the ground with a thud. His hands were scraped, bleeding slightly, but nothing felt or seemed to be broken. Still, the boy looked concerned. As Hugin got to his feet, brushing the grass from his palms onto his sweater, the blond elf rushed forward, dropping the wooden block from his hands. It was a rune, Hugin realized. Instead of the warmth that crept from the elf’s body into his own, he attempted to focus on the wooden rune. Distracting himself, really.

Munin coughed, breaking up the boy’s healing session. She was clearly impatient, and Hugin couldn’t blame her. They had been given a task. They couldn’t afford to be held back by minor inconveniences such as injuring a hand. The boy backed away, but he and Hugin continued sharing eye contact. Even without words, the elf’s message was clear. He wanted to know if the shapeshifter was alright. Hugin nodded, silently assuring him he was. His scrapes had vanished, the only trace that he’d even injured himself in the first place being the trickles of his own blood staining the blades of grass crimson.

“Stop gawking and do your job,” Munin grumbled, her elbow connecting with Hugin’s ribcage. He moved his emerald eyes away from the elf, his face burning, mostly out of embarrassment of being caught. Truthfully, he hadn’t realized he’d been staring.

He cleared his throat, clasping his newly healed hands behind his back. The girl, he noticed, had been chuckling, but had been quieted by her brother, who looked as embarrassed as Hugin felt. He fidgeted behind his back, he looked over the two elves, attempting to piece together the signs that they had once trained under the Vanir deities Frey and Freya. The rune etched into the boy’s wooden block was fehu, the rune dedicated to Frey. That was the only indication the two were connected. His sister had a quiver slung over her back, which had a distinct triskelion pattern sewn into the fabric. It was a motif that had been associated with Freya for many winters. How had he just now noticed them?

“You know, you two are easier to find than I thought you’d be.” said Hugin, keeping his tone light and humorous. Only the Allfather knew what these two could be capable of own their own, much less as a pairing. He wasn’t keen on returning to Oscar, the new Odin, with his wings clipped. “Frey and Freya’s…successors, am I right?” Replacements and successors. The two words were interchangeable now. The old gods were long gone, leaving behind legacies, prodigies, to take their places. That’s what Hugin and Munin were. Carbon copies of their parents with the same ultimate goal. Live, serve, and then die at Ragnarok.

The elf’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment Hugin thought she’d draw her bow and send him stumbling back to Asgard with an arrow lodged in his chest. She nodded, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, we are. Why does that matter to you? What even are you?” She studied Hugin and Munin, like a hunter stalking prey. She was watching their moves, he realized. She was frightening, sure, but not intimidating.

Beside him, Munin clicked her tongue. It wasn’t the first time they’d received the question and it most certainly wouldn’t be the last. “We’re shapeshifters, elf. I am Munin, and this,” She gestured to herself, then to Hugin. “is my brother, Hugin.”

“Yeah, Thought and Memory. I’ve heard about you two.” The elven girl rose from her seat amongst the blades of grass. She smiled at them both, but there was a hint of disgust laced in her words, like the shapeshifters’ names had left a sour taste in her mouth. She almost reminded him of Munin. Almost. “Aerin and Olive.” From they way they had introduced them both, he could only assume that she was Olive and her brother was Aerin. Oddly enough, knowing their names was more comforting than knowing them solely by their predecessors. “There something you need or are you just stalking us?”

Before Hugin could speak, Munin, as usual, took the lead. He didn’t mind. The less talking the better. “The Allfather wishes to see you,” she said, her tone placid and her face emotionless. Yet, he knew better than anyone that she was anxious. Asgard was their home. Vanaheim was uncharted and unfamiliar territory. “The matter is urgent.”

Aerin’s light brows knit closely together. The Vanir and Aesir, despite the truce that had been put in place, had a strained relationship. It was a childish feud Hugin hoped had passed with the old gods. Now he knew that was far from the truth. “Why didn’t Oscar show up himself? The guy can come and go between the realms whenever he feels like it, but not drop by Vanaheim when it matters?” His sister shot him a warning look. If Aerin noticed it, he didn’t choose to acknowledge it. Or perhaps he didn’t care. Either was a plausible explanation.

How Munin had stayed so calm was beyond him. She sighed, “It’s not my place to question the Allfather. My brother and I simply deliver his messages and watch whoever catches his interest.” Munin caught Hugin’s eyes and nodded to the twins. He made an ‘o’ with his lips and cleared his throat.

“It’s just a meeting. A quick one, hopefully.” He added with a shrug of his shoulders. Oscar – Odin, same difference – hadn’t told him much about the topics of discussion, not that he ever did. Not that he wanted to keep the information to himself, but because Hugin and Munin had no real importance to the Allfather.

The elves seemed to ponder the idea, each distracting themselves by fidgeting. A shared habit, he guessed. “Maybe we should talk somewhere else,” Aerin interjected, tucking his fehu rune into the pocket of his denim jacket. Olive nodded her agreement, dropping her hands back down to her side.

Munin looked skeptical, and for the first time in awhile looked to Hugin for advice. He shrugged, a darkish smile adorning his features. He watched as the two elven deities started down the path once more.

“Let’s not go back to Ossie on an empty stomach, yeah?’ Hugin urged his sister along, calling to Olive and Aerin to slow down. Munin groaned, annoyed, but hurried off after her younger brother.

#norse pantheon #germanic #odin #loki #thor #frey #freya #asgard #vanaheim #nine worlds #vanir #aesir #ragnarok

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oneofiv · 4 years

Text

Such a dirty, filthy word...GRIEF!

I am no expert but by life's infinite graces I am quite familiar with grief and the variety of coping mechanisms that come along with it. Welcome to my Ted Talk. Ok, serious face. I have been on this planet for a little over 33 years and in that time frame I have lost not one, but both parents and most recently and easily most gut wrenching my little sister Devin. If you are uncomfortable with dark humor and the concept of complete black hole sadness, I'd say turn around right now but really you should stay. Because these two things are eventually unavoidable. So buckle up babies!

Dad: 15 years old, stubborn, insecure, massive chip on the shoulder

Losing my dad was tough, for many reasons. He was the first. Uncharted territory. How does one go about living in a world where one minute you had two parents and the next you're down to one? Well more like half of one. Mom wasn't doing so swell back in 2001. She had a lot of demons (too many to go into in the post but trust me we'll get there one day). So now, I am the oldest sibling of a one parent household. Dad was the navigator, he was the one who knew the next step. I think this was the first time I felt completely and utterly helpless. I remember I was having a good day on September 27, 2001. My friend Brett and I went to the mall, I'm pretty sure I bought a purse from American Eagle. Back at home, sprawled out on my bed attempting to start some homework, the phone rang. It was my Dad's mom. You ever know something is wrong before given any actual reasoning? That's happened to me twice in my life. Once, 3 years earlier and this day. I knew he was gone. My grandma Alice asked to speak to my other grandma Carol (whom we lived with). She said nothing other than "Hi sweetie, can I talk to grandma Carol?" Thinking back on it there was no real shift in her tone of voice, maybe subtly but not enough to send red flags waving around in my mind. When it was finally said out loud that he was gone, I embraced the laminate flooring beneath me. An ungodly wail escaped my mouth. I became one with my siblings as a ball of overwhelming grief. A son without his idol, two daughters who wondered who would walk them down the aisle now? With that quick call the life that we had known was gone. He was gone.

Mom: 25 years old, still stubborn, still insecure, working on that chip, in a super unhealthy relationship

We use to joke about how it would come down to the apocalypse and all that would remain would be the cockroaches, Twinkies and my mama. She had done so much damage to herself in her short lifetime that it was baffling how she made it as long as she did. But despite all of that it was still absolutely shocking when she really died. I was living 900 miles away from my family in Myrtle Beach when I got the call from my sister. My knees gave out, my ears starting to ring. I now have no parents. How does that happen? How do some people have both and I get none? Selfish, irrational thoughts like that one would soon consume my mind. In chaos we booked a flight back to New York but it wasn't for 24 hours. We can drive there quicker than that. We ended up using the credit for the flight back for the official goodbye a few weeks later. Guilt. Crippling, soul crushing, guilt. Could I have changed the outcome by being kinder to her? Were my siblings right? My tough love approach was falling on deaf ears? I didn't tell her I loved her the last time I saw her. In fact, I'm pretty sure I just scoffed at her. A month earlier we celebrated Christmas. In the week I was back home she never emerged from her room. Or if she did, I wasn't around to see it. I hugged my siblings, cracked some jokes and packed up the car to escape back down to the warmth. Halfway down the block, "SUSIE", my most prized possession was back in my childhood room, we turned around. And there she was, making her way down the stairs like the living dead. Ghostly pale, disheveled, with the saddest eyes I've ever known. A common site, unfortunately. No words were exchanged. A sarcastic breathe of air was my greeting. I will have to live with this. Realistically, I think my mom knew how much I loved her. She had to. I spent the better part of 15 years begging her to come back to us. If that didn't scream love, what did? Maybe actually telling her "I love you"? I do Mom. More than words were ever able to express in your lifetime. I hope I am like you when I have kids of my own. Seriously! Minus the obvious issues, I would be disgustingly lucky to be a fraction of the mother you were. I wish you knew.

Devin: 29 years old, not so stubborn, still insecure, chip is long gone, freshly laid off

...I don't want to write about this. I've never had a problem sharing my grief about my parents but Devin is different. Its still so new. Its never been believable to me. Plus to be actually honest about this one I would have to divulged some things that I would rather keep close to the chest. Because Devin doesn't deserve to be remember any other way than as the wildly funny, intimidatingly gorgeous, absolute lunatic that she was. All you need to know is that my little sister died 5 days after her 28th birthday. I was the last one to see her. She was wearing a "Finding Gerald" shirt (i.e. Finding Dory) and the last thing I said to her, as I touched her back, was "I love you Dev". This grief. This is the monster you hear about. The one that takes down others. The one that is so easy to get lost in. The one that makes you wonder if you should follow and leave too. When I think about her not being here my initial reaction is sadness, obviously. But that is shortly followed by a cocktail of guilt, anger, resentment, self loathing, loathing in general, bafflement, you name it. And its that cocktail that gets stuck as a lump in my throat. I can't swallow it. I can't allow myself to move past those feelings. I can shake off the sadness but not these. I am conditioned to sadness. These were new. I would, and I mean this with every single inch of me, trade places with her if I could. The world deserves Devin but more importantly Devin deserved the world.

When my Dad died I coped like most teenagers would. I hated my mom, my littlest brother was the bane of my existence, I discovered self harm (eventually to be replace with the more socially acceptable tattoos and piercings) and I fell in love with a boy. With Mom, as I was older and "wiser" I coped with booze and drugs and sex. The holy trinity! After Devin, I ate. A lot. I went from a squishy size 12 to a robust size 20. My interest in guys was minimal, I assume a side effect of my new padding. I like to think that I have covered the spread on ways to cope after losing a loved one. But the reality is I could have done so much more damage if wanted to. I could have become #4 on the Sheppard Family Tree of Death. Which, I have dibs on by the way. I refuse to outlive anyone else! Call me selfish but I am done losing people. I am feverishly knocking on all wood surfaces right now. I think another one would break me. And for good. I often wonder how it hasn't already. Am I stronger than I think I am? Or in a weird way does my inability to follow through with things also effect this aspect of my life? ← If you are curious what dark humor looks like, this would be a prime example. In other words, I am not suicidal, just super fucked up!

People have asked me how I do it, I assume they mean live with so many people absent. The only thing I have to say to that is, Quinn. The littlest of the Sheppard's, a full grown adult man now, but forever my chicken nugget. You think its been rough for me? Quinn was 5 when Dad died, 15 when Mom left and 19 when he lost his best friend. All of that before he could remove the "teen" from his age. If he can keep his head up and walk this earth without a massive grudge then fuck it so can I! This is a constant theme in our lives, perspective. No matter how bad its been, it could always be worse. The hardest day of our lives could be a cakewalk for someone else. This doesn't mean we're not entitled to grieve the way that we do but it also doesn't excuse us for being bad people. I refuse to let the loss of my family members allow me to treat others in a negative fashion.

I will probably come back to this topic time and time again but for now this is it.

#grief #loss of loved ones #mom died #dad die #sister died #loss of parents #loss of a sibling #coping mechanisms #coping #survivors guilt #subsance abuse #alcholism #cancer

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killing-time-w-kaz · 5 years

Text

Sleepsong

As the knife pierces my heart, I am thrown into the waking world. Chest pounding, I stare at the ceiling fan, watching as it does nothing to combat the summer heat. Not that I need to be cold—that dream is chilling enough.

Why that dream? What did I miss? Could I have stopped the knife? Would I be free of this? These stained hands?

Sleep doesn’t come again. I watch the sun rise, curled up, praying the shadows don’t creep closer.

I grip the sink’s edge, head bowed before the glass. Looking up, I lock eyes with the woman staring back. Shadows stained her face, an emptiness in her eyes turning her into a doll. Is this what I’ve become? A lifeless doll? A humorless laugh escapes. When was the last time I truly laughed?

A mountain of paperwork greets me when I sit down to work. How many reports have I written? How many more to go? My colleagues mill around the office, drinking bad coffee and chatting about marriages and birthdays—happy events. Bright fluorescent lights beating down on my head. Few shadows lurk here.

I walk from the afternoon briefing. Nothing interesting was shared—just new statistics. I turn the corner and he is standing there with a knife. As the knife pierces my heart, I am thrown into the waking world. I stand in the hallway, chest pounding, staring into nothing. In the corner of my eye, shadows creep closer. No one is here, no one is here, no one—

No, someone is here. I can feel the eyes on the back of my head. Whipping around, I hope to catch a glimpse of the starer. Only an empty hallway. A giggle echoes through the space. “Come and find me it” seems to say.

My desk partner walks down the hall, from the direction of the laugh.

“Did you hear a giggle? Or see a young child?”

“No, I haven’t seen anyone here, sorry.”

As he walks away, I feel a tug at my sleeve. A little girl stares up, eyes full of glee. She wears a simple nightgown. I hold her hand as I kneel down so I am on eye level with her.

Are you lost? What’s your name, little one?”

She points behind me, eyes wide. I let my attention dart over my shoulder, but nothing is there. I turn back to the little girl, but she is gone. Once again, I am alone.

I sit on my bed that night. Who was that girl? She felt familiar somehow. I fall asleep, alone with my thoughts as I try to untangle the puzzle before me.

I stand in the living room, shadows dancing on the wall. A boot scuffs the floor, I spin around and the man stands there. Steel glints in the dark and as it pierces my heart, I am thrown into the waking world. Chest pounding, I hold my head, cold hands cooling my forehead.

Why can’t I sleep? Why does that dream keep replaying? I could have stopped the knife, why didn’t I? Why did I just stand there?

I question it until the sun rises and burns away the shadows.

Someone once said that walking through a memory can help clear it up. I stare at the wall of paperwork, dredging up memories from the depths of my mind. The office melts away, shadows bleeding over the scene.

I open my eyes and I’m in the house. No light can be seen, everything reduced to dark figures. I turn around before I hear the man in the doorway. I stare him down as he charges at me. I grab his hand before the knife pierces my heart—

And I am thrown into the waking world. I gaze up at the fluorescent lights beating down on me. My desk partner’s worried eyes peek over the mountain of reports.

“You okay? You just fell over? You are sleeping enough?”

Head pounding, I stagger to my feet, using my chair for support. Shadows creep from the corners of the room. Scanning the room, I see her. The little girl. She stands, barefoot, in a doorway, waving me over. I walk past my desk partner, toward the girl. I have so many questions. Stretching out my hand, I hope to reach her. But I never do.

The door is gone, replaced by a mirror.

“Everything okay?”

Another colleague taps me on the shoulder. I smile and nod my head.

The sun sets without another invasive dream. But now the night rules and I sit alone with my thoughts, a ticking clock my only companion.

I sit on my mother’s lap. She is telling me something, but I’m not listening. I nod my head, so she can go back to the story we’re reading. But that never happened. The house is plunged into darkness. Mom hides me behind her back as she turns to the door. A boot scuffs the floor, a man enters the living room. He lunges forward, steel glinting. As the knife pierces my mother’s chest, I am thrown into the waking world.

I jolt off the couch, heart pounding. The house is silent, threatening to suffocate me. I wait out the night on the couch. Even though it’s summer, it feels as if someone dropped an icy veil around me, blocking me from the world. It would be nice to have someone to keep me company. But I am alone, and I wait.

The morning is full of shadows that try to tear the world apart. Everyone is quiet, too busy to talk. Shadows cover my eyes, dragging me back to the dark living room. I can feel the air as he rushes at me. The sound of his boots on the wood floor. The warm flesh of his arm as I grab it. The bite of steel as I snatch the knife away. The hot blood as the knife pierces the man’s chest. And I am thrown into the waking world.

Blood drips down my hands. Shouts ring through the office. Shadows disappear from my eyes. My desk partner rushes over to my seat, yelling. I look down at the knife lodged in my chest. As I slump to the ground, the little girl stands over me, laughing. I answer her with an empty cackle. Her eyes have become glassy, doll-like. She too has been reduced to a doll. It becomes hard to see, a fog settling down. The little doll leans close, lips next to my ear:

“So this is how I die, eh?”

#bastille #sleepsong #based on a song #i wrote this instead of studying #shortstory

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sunshinejoon · 7 years

Text

2 am

Genre: Angst Member: Yoongi

Summary: Nothing good ever happens after 2 am.

parts: ii / iii

They say nothing good ever occurs after 2 am., when the stars are asleep and the night sky is held captive by the man in the moon. The moon was young that one particular night, hardly any light brightening the all-black canvas. Perhaps you should’ve taken that as a warning as you descended down the stairs, destined to draw your boyfriend from his work-induced coma that had chained him down in his studio for hours on end. Refusing to drift off without his warmth beside you, you had fought off sleep as much as you could. A book had occupied your interest for all that time, but each turn of the frail pages only made your eyelids heavier. With fatigue hanging heavy on your shoulders, you shuffled down the staircase and into the studio. The open doorway was a constant place you perched when observing the music your lover was constantly producing as he sat in his plush, leather chair, headphones attached snugly to his head. Still in your languid state, you placed a hand on the man’s shoulder hoping to receive his attention for a brief moment, sleepiness preventing you from speaking, but the way he tensed under your soft touch instantly made you more attentive. From the corner of his computer monitor, you had seen that the time was 2:05 am, and that was your very last warning.

The stress was practically radiating off of Yoongi, creating a tense aura that threatened to suffocate the both of you, but you were used to his moods when writer’s block clouded his mind. The stormy look in his brown eyes were familiar in every way, and you always did your best to calm the hurricane that tore through him. It usually worked, too, a warm embrace and feather-like kisses painted across his pale forehead doing the trick, more often than not. It was different that night, though. You acknowledged what was coming, but knowing how to handle it was another story. You should’ve left him to his lonesome, you should’ve retreated back to the bedroom and hid under the duvet covers until the moon disappeared.

But something halted you from doing so, the heartstrings hummed through your chest most likely the perpetrator.

Yoongi tore off his headphones rather violently a second later, music quietly humming into the heavy silence and wavering amongst the four walls that suddenly seemed too small for your comfort. You jumped at the crack of the impact, eyes widening as he spun in his chair and flung your hand from his shoulder. The eyes looking back at you were dangerous, lightning and noiseless thunder echoing within his irises. The hand you had laid upon him, although it did not hurt, was cradled against your chest, as if to keep within the confines of your own space and not to intrude his. You stood your ground, despite the obvious cower your body did when he rose from his chair, his lips stitched into a heavy frown.

“What do you need?” he hissed, venom oozing from his syllables. His tone was deep and angry, and you suddenly found yourself feeling worried. When you opened your mouth to answer him, screams and pleads of warnings rang through your mind. You pushed them away, confident you could handle him at his worst.

“I-I didn’t want to go to bed without you, but it’s getting very late. You’ve been working all week and all day today. I can tell you’re stressed. How about calling it a day and getting some rest? Then we can spend some time together, even if it’s just sleeping. I feel like I haven’t seen you all week-“

“You came down here and interrupted me just so you could whine to me?” he asked, voice louder than before, but this time laced with an anger you had never quite seen before. At least, not from him. A scoff of disbelief escaped him as his gaze fell to the floor for a second before returning darker than before, something you thought impossible at this point.

Your body instantly froze as Yoongi’s words shot right through you. The ache spiraled throughout your chest, and your breath stilled itself in the back of your throat, as if it was too afraid to come out. The small hints of a smile that were once etched on your lips had fled, and your eyes bounced across the dimly lit room, desperate to escape the eye contact that was holding you hostage. He had never spoken to you this harshly, not even in previous fights. He was always gentle, approaching problems with a clear conscience and balanced temper. This was a side of him you had dreaded meeting, but it was bound to happen at one point or another.

You made a small note in the back of your mind that it always made itself known, the dark side of people you loved. You had just not expected it to happen in the dead of night. But that’s when the demons tend to come out to play, isn’t it?

You subconsciously noted the instinctive step you took away from him when he took a small step forward, determined to maintain the safe proximity between you two. You made the questionable decision to look back to his eyes, the wreckage of the storm occurring inside of the brown of his irises clearly visible.

“You’re so fucking annoying, you know that?” He begins. The anger pierces through his speech and an audible crack splits through his words. “Asking me to abandon my work just so you get some attention? You’re the clingiest person I’ve ever met. You never shut up because you think you can fix everyone else’s problems, and you never know when to let someone handle themselves. You’re not my fucking mother, Y/N!”

At that moment, you could’ve sworn you felt yourself shatter. The world around you spun under your feet. He had yelled so loud, despite how close you were, and his words echoed through your mind. You wanted to say something, to retaliate, but all the words you had thought about saying had fallen away.

“Now do me a favor and leave me alone.”

With that, his last devastating blow, he glared at you once more before sitting back in his chair and throwing his headphones back on so he could forget you had ever come in it disturb him, and you found yourself wanting to forget you had existed.

You did not allow tears to fall until the bathroom door was shut and locked behind you. The pain was immeasurable, and you hated yourself for being weak, for letting his words affect you as they did. You were always thick-skinned and an expert at letting people’s words slip off of you as if you were embellished in armor. He was just stressed. You repeated this to yourself multiple times, excusing his behavior. Stress possessed people in unbelievable ways, and being a victim of it before, you were understanding, though deep down, a small voice nagged at you ceaselessly. The echo of his words was still present, and you suddenly realize that once you hear something enough times, you’ll end up establishing it as fact, and that little voice played back all its favorite words that came from Yoongi’s mouth until you shared his opinion.

On the way to your bed, you heard the roar of a car engine, and glanced out the closest window quick enough to watch Yoongi’s black car speed off into the night. He always fled when you two fought to calm down, and you always found yourself wondering where his destination was. Tonight, however, you didn’t give it a second thought.

When the plush surface of the mattress embraced your body, you shut your eyes tight despite the darkness already looming over the bedroom. Your desire to sink into the bed was unfathomable, yet you weren’t sure if it was because you wanted to sleep or because you wanted to disappear.

About 2 hours later, the familiar creek of the bedroom door awoke you, light from the hallway illuminating a small fraction of the room. You refused to open your eyes, careful not to notify him that you were not asleep. Not long after, the bed dipped beside you and a scent filled the room, though it was not familiar. The man lying beside you, who usually smelled of guitar wood, was replaced with a stranger. It was strong, and you had to repress the desire to cough.

Yoongi tucked his body closely beside yours, and to your surprise, he was warm; sweaty even, despite the frigid weather outside. It was when he placed a chaste kiss to your shoulder blade in silent apology that you put the pieces together.

It was the aroma of perfume that emitted from his sweater that kept you awake up until the sun rose, and it was the remnants of red lipstick that has been accidently transferred onto your skin that make you feel dirtier than you’ve ever felt.

Your eyes shot open in realization, only to be greeted by the alarm clock on your bedside that seemed to mock you, as it reminded you that nothing good happens after 2 am.

#yoongi imagine #yoongi scenario #yoongi angst #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi scenarios #suga imagine #suga scenario #suga angst #bts angst #bts imagines #bts scenarios

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darksaber87 · 4 years

Text

Vampire Tales - Chapter 3

Year 4E 206

She let her hand fall from his cheek, Richter caught it. Looking into her face as he held her hand

“Hello, Richer,” she said still smiling at him.

“S..Seras? It can’t be,” Richter said as he tried to find the words to say

“I watched them kill you. I held you in my arms as you and our” She stopped him before he could finish the words, sorrow appeared upon her face and Richter knew the words he was about to say brought her as much pain as it does him.

“How are you still alive,” asked Richter

“I’m alive because of what you did for me,” replied Seras

It struck Richter like a silver dagger to the chest. He grabbed Seras’s face

“Your eyes! Let me see your eyes,” explained Richter

Seras opened her eyes, where once was light blue almost crystal like eyes were replaced with red/yellow and black, the eyes of a vampire. Richter taken aback by this let go of her face. Realizing he has not drank any blood since his resurrection he fell backwards his back hitting the crypt wall and he slid down, Seras walked over to him. Running her hand through his hair.

“My count, you must be thirsty,” Seras said as she cut her finger

The blood droplets fell from her finger onto his lips as Richter opened his mouth with each drop of Seras’s blood he felt his strength return.

“You can have more than this, my love,” as Seras lowered her robe past her shoulders enough for her neck and all of her shoulders and the top of her breast to show. Unable to control his thirst anymore, Richter got to his feet and bit down on Seras’s neck. Seras felt his fangs enter her neck like small little fire pokers. The sensation of his bite reached every part of her body sending ecstasy of pleasure with it. Soft moans let from her mouth. Seras grasped Richter’s back as her nails dug deep into his back leaving marks. Unable to control herself anymore she bit hard onto Richter’s shoulder puncturing his skin and muscle drinking his blood as it spilled from his wound.

Richter finally let go his bite as did Seras, he looked at her as he face was flushed with pink and she was breathing heavy. Seras looked at Richter letting her robe fall from her body exposing the rest of her. Richter saw it though, the scars left on Seras’s body a reminder of the sins of his past. Richter walked up to Seras and placed his hand on her scars, he felt her body shudder.

“You must not blame yourself,” Seras said as she placed her hand on his “These are my sins not yours”

Year 3E 101

The wind and rain kissed Richter’s face as sped through the forest, blood pouring from his wounds. Clutching his side and digging the silver arrows from his arm and legs. Noticing the wounds are not healing, Richter needed blood. He noticed a small clearing up ahead, quickly coming to the clearing it open up into a small farming village, realizing there was livestock in the barns and that meant fresh blood. Richter made his way to the barn, but it was too late, the hunters caught up to him. Silver arrows flew past him one barely missed his head but enough to cut his cheek. The hunters encircled him bows ready each with silver tipped arrows. Feeling weaker and unable to control it anymore, Richter let his vampire side loose. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, he was upon the first hunter in a second, as he tore through the mans flesh with his claw the blood splattered on the ground. Richter’s speed, agility and strength increased tenfold with each passing moment. He was upon the second hunter and grabbed him by the throat as he lifted him off the ground Richter bit deep into his neck draining his blood. As Richter drained the man's blood, the his wounds started to heal.

Richter loved this sensation of being unstoppable the fear he invoked upon men's faces, but it also scared him. He was losing himself within this frenzy. When Richter reached the final hunter. He pleaded with Richter not to kill him and in a moment of clarity he turned headed towards the town. As Richter turned his back he felt a familiar sting in his back as two silver arrows pierced his skin. RIchter turned to see the hunter shooting arrows at him as two more entered his leg and right arm. Richter pulled out the arrow from his leg and was upon the hunter in a flash as he hit the hunter under his jaw with his own arrow. Blood poured from the hunter as he fell dead on the ground. But the hunter left a present in Richter’s chest a holy enchanted silver dagger, Richter fell to the ground on one knee as he grasped the dagger he pulled it from his chest as it burned his skin. Richter needed blood and fast if he expected to survive these wounds. He look at the dead hunters one was drained of his blood and the others have lost too much as it coated the cold rainy ground red, he looked to the barn and realized the livestock was his only choice. As he entered there was not an animal in sight. Richter knew he must commit the ultimate sin and consume the blood of an innocent if he wish to survive, he looked around noticed a small farm house as he made his way to the house he grew weaker with each step and his own blood now coated the ground red. Richter burst open the door with what little strength he had, which awoke the only occupant a Nord woman in her late twenties, shoulder length blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. As he made his way to her, he grabbed her by the shoulders, but before he could drink her blood he collapsed from his wounds, Richters vision began to blur as the world around him turned black last this he saw was her face and the look what he thought was sorrow.

Richter awoke to sun lit room as he looked around he saw the woman sitting and a table reading a book.

“Oh finally awake I see,” the woman said looking towards Richter. “I didn’t think you were ever going to wake again”

“What do you mean by that and why am I still in your house,” replied Richter

“You are still here because if I brought you to my village they would of killed you in an instant, vampire. You have also been asleep for one year, eleven months and eighteen days,” answered the woman

“Almost two years….how am I not dead,” asked Richter

“Because I kept you alive, with my blood,” replied the woman.

“Your..blood, why? Last thing I remember was me trying to kill you and drink your blood and yet you saved my life,” said Richter looking at her with a puzzled expression

“I saved you because, before you lost conscious you hesitated to take my life and blood,” the woman said without batting an eye “I just feel you are a good man”

“Than I thank you for saving my life, but I must be going. People are after me and if I stay in one place too long they will find me,” Richter said as he stood up.

“Find you? You’ve been here for almost two years I’ve haven’t see a single person come looking for a vampire,” the woman said barely containing her laughing. “By the way my name is Seras Victoria”

“Richter Tepes,” replied Richter. “So what can I do to repay your kindness”

“Well it’s almost the end of harvest and my vegetable garden needs harvesting. You can do that,” replied Seras with a smirk.

As the months went on Richter found himself still at this farm, a reminder of the life he once had with his wife Anellia. Richter felt his life was indebted to Seras for what she did for him. As their friendship thrived, a romantic interest blossomed from it. A year into their relationship, Seras announced to Richter she was pregnant. Excited at the prospect of being a father, Richter realized he could have a normal life at this farm secluded from the world. During the winter while training out in the farm yard, keeping up his mental state along with his physical, he heard footsteps in the woods and whispers of voices.

“Show yourselves, I know you are there,” shouted Richter.

As more rustling occurred, as Richter heard more footsteps, At this time Seras stepped out from the farmhouse to find out why Richter stopped training. Richter could not shake this feeling that what was coming was not good.

“Seras get back in the house,” Richter shouted.

“Why, what is going on Richter,” replied Seras with worry in her voice now.

“Something bad, now go back inside,” answered Richter, but it was too late 10 men appeared from the forest each with a bow drawn.

Before Seras could make her way back in 5 more men appeared and blocked her path from the house.

“Seras, come to me,” Richter said as held out his hand for her to grab itl.

“Who are these men, Richter,” Seras said.

“Hunters, they track and kill monsters like me,” replied Richter.

“You are not a monster,” answered Seras ask she clutched his arm. “You hear that! This man is not a monster, you men are pointing your bows and drawing swords to attack an innocent man”

“Silent wench! You will not speak, you, the vampire and the abomination growing inside your womb, must all be purged from this world,” spoke the red haired man in the back

“You will not touch my wife or my unborn child,” but Richter was cut off by a sound, which made his stomach turn. He felt Seras grip on his arm loosen, as he turned and seen the tip of a sword through her lower abdomen and another through her right chest followed by a scream that will forever be embedded in his memory. Seras was lifted up and thrown across the yard where she landed and did not move.

‘SERAS,” bellowed Richter. “Why….she did nothing...nothing and yet you did this to her”

“I will destroy every last one you,” Richter said as his anger reached a point of no return, he searched for the heartbeat of his wife and child and only heard Seras’s faintly and fading fast.

Richter vanish from the spot appeared behind three hunters, making quick work of them. He turned his gaze upon the five near the house as a volley of arrows came his way each arrow stuck him but did not slow him down. Cutting down two with a single slash and grabbed another by the throat and crushed it. The finally one felt the bite of his sword under his jaw and through the top of his head and Richter bit down and drained him of every ounce of blood within his body. As Richter removed the arrows his wounds healed instantly. Richter turned his gaze to the seven hunters left and their leader the hulk of a man with red hair.

“HAH a battle worthy of my skill. It has been a long time,” spoke the red haired man

“Battle..I think not, this is a slaughter,” Richter said void of emotion as he threw his sword towards one of the seven hunters.

The sword entered the man's chest as it knocked him back, Richter vanished and appeared in front of the man and pulled the sword from his chest before he hit the ground. With single motion he decapitated another. Richter again vanished, leaving a small swarm of bats in his wake. He appeared in an instant snapping another hunter's neck as the break echoed through the woods. One of the hunters unsheathed his sword and charged at Richter with ease he deflected the attack and severed the hunter's arm and stabbed him through the throat.

The three remaining hunters started to back away from where Richter was, scared to fight him.

“Cowards,” came the voice of the red haired man and with a single motion from his massive sword cut the three hunters in half. “Now just you and me”

The massive man was fast, faster than Richter thought, with out any time the man's massive sword came crashing towards Richter. Just in time he blocked the attack as the power behind it sent a shockwave of air and created a small crater around Richter.

“I have not had a battle like this in a over a hundred years,” spoke the red haired man.

“I will end you here and now! YOU WILL NEVER see the next morning,” Richter said angrily.

With each massive blow the red haired man swung with his sword Richter deflected. Richter continued to listen to Seras’s heartbeat as it was almost non existent. With one final effort Richter deflected the red haired man's massive sword up and with that Richter embedded his sword into the man’s thigh and with a twist severed his leg from his body. The man toppled sideways Richter cut his dominant arm clear from his body.

“HAH ...bested by a vampire ...finish it foul creature,” spoke the red haired man as blood coated the snow around him red.

“No ...,” replied Richter. “You will suffer for what you did” and with that Richter severed the man's remaining hand and foot from his body.

“You think this is suffering HAHA, this is nothing compared to what you are about to go through. Your woman is dead along with you child,” spat the red haired man

“YOU BASTARD,” as Richter grabbed the man’s head and with all his strength crushed it beneath his hand as the blood splatter hit his face. “Face Oblivion because even your soul will not be safe”

Richter made his way to where Seras was laying on her side, his hands started to shake as he turned her over to see the wounds to her chest and womb.

“My count…,” spoke Seras as her words were faint.

“Seras...don’t talk I can make this better,” replied Richter as he bit his wrist enough to draw blood as he poured his blood into her mouth, Seras drank it, but nothing happened.

“For a brief time ...we were a family. It was the happiest I’ve ever been,” said Seras as she touched his face. A moment later her hand fell limp and she took her last breath.

For the second time Richter held the woman he loved in his arms as she died, but it was more his unborn child also never saw the light of this world as he clutched her body close to his he let out a thunderous scream. He placed Seras and his child in a coffin lined with roses and buried them in grave with a grave marker that read

Beloved wife and child to a man who is cursed

Richter woke, sweat poured from his face as he looked over Seras still fast asleep, covering her up with her robe. Richter walked around to figure out where they were.

He recognised the tomb instantly, it was his family crypt, home to his ancestors of the Tepes bloodline. Richter made his way outside into the cool summer air. He felt the tug at his arm as Seras fully robed leaned against him.

“That is the second time I awoke without you by my side,” Seras spoke.

“How long did it take,” asked Richter.

“Two years and eight months,” replied Seras.

“What of our child,” said Richter.

“I’m sorry, but it did not survive,” said Seras as her voice started to break

Seras looked up at Richter’s face as tears fell from his eyes, he looked down at her.

“What am, about to do will throw this world into chaos, are you still willing to follow me, Seras,” Richter asked

“Tell the end of time my count,” replied Seras as she looked towards the horizon as the light of dawn approached.

“Then we need powerful allies and I know of one such ally, Clan Volkihar,” said Richter.

#writing #my fanfiction #story

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delaware-lemme-smash · 7 years

Note

Hi! I don't know if you're still open for scenarios but if so, could I request a Prince!Todoroki AU with him trying to get out of an arranged marriage, only to meet his fiancée when he discovers her trying to escape the castle before she meets him? And he starts warming up to them despite their circumstances?

This ran away with me a little bit. I got this idea as soon as you sent the request. I’m a sucker for fantasy and this was right up my street. I might write a sequel if people are interested. Also, I write in a reader-insert style so my stories are usually in second-person. I hope you enjoy!

Todoroki Shouto

The sound of hard-soled leather boots against polished marble echoed through the wide corridor leading to the War Council chamber. Guards lined the walls, backs straight, halberds held at attention. Their polished armour gleamed in the light of gilded lamps that interspersed hanging tapestries, each of which depicted a stylised flame - the symbol of the Todoroki kingdom.

Shouto pretended not to see any of it: the guards, the flagrant display of wealth, the symbol of his father’s House. Two Kingsguards in full plate, painted red, blocked the doors of the Council chamber. He narrowed his eyes. The guard on the left bowed, a mere incline of his head, then slipped into the chamber. He closed the door behind him, but Shouto could still hear the rumble of the king’s reply through the thick panel of wood.

The guard returned, a few shades paler. ‘King Endeavor will see you, Crown Prince.’

If the hall was grand, the Council chamber was downright ostentatious, bedecked in every shade of red and gold known to man. A fire roared in the black marble fireplace, despite the summer heat pouring in through the open windows. The ugliest and most unnecessary thing, however, was sat at the end of the long, polished table that dominated the middle of the room. His father.

A tall man with short red hair, and wearing armour lavishly tooled in crimson and gold, painted with yet more fire patterns, King Endeavor regarded his son with a piercing blue glare, his elbows planted on the table, hands steepled in front of his chin. No affection shone from that face, only expectation.

Shouto reined in both his nausea and his rampant dislike for the man. He took a formal stance in front of the table. He didn’t bow or incline his head. Endeavor’s eyes narrowed. The fire behind Shouto’s back roared higher.

‘You are supposed to be meeting the envoy and the girl.’

‘I came to inform you that I will not be attending that meeting.’

Endeavor scoffed. ‘I know it’s tedious, but you have to actually meet the girl before you marry her. After that, as long as you produce heirs, I could hardly care less.’

Shouto forced himself to met his father’s eyes. There was no point in mincing words. ‘I am not going to marry her.’

A muscle ticked in the king’s jaw. ‘I’ve told you time and again that this is not up for discussion, boy. As my heir, you do what I tell you and you do it without complaint. Anything less is treason.’

‘By all rights, my elder brother should be your heir-’ Shouto started. The king’s hand slapping against the table silenced him. The wood blackened under Endeavor’s palm and smoke coiled up between his fingers. The servants would have to replace the table.

‘You are my heir. I created you as such. Your siblings were nothing more than failed experiments. What good are your brothers? And the less said of your sister, the better. With luck I can get a good marriage for her to bring in some trade but-’

‘I’m not marrying her.’ Shouto spoke quietly, but his words sliced across Endeavor’s tirade like a hot knife. ‘You want to bind her magic to mine, just like you did with my mother.’

Endeavor settled back in his throne-like chair, tapping his fingers on the burn mark he’d left. His tone was low, dangerous. ‘Yes, and look what good it did me. Three worthless, expensive royal brats and a mewling tit of a Crown Prince.’

Shouto forced himself to unclench his fists, and let go the breath he was holding. He wouldn’t rise to the bait. ‘I will not marry her.’

Endeavor surged to his feet. As he came around the table, flame swathed him from head to toe. The fire in the grate roared and spat sparks. The room turned into an oven. Shouto leaned back as his father’s furious, fire-wreathed face loomed over his. The king seized the front of Shouto’s tunic, burning holes through the fabric, and hauled him closer.

Flames licked at the corners of his mouth as he spoke. ‘I don’t care what you will or will not do. Your will has no meaning, Shouto. My will is your will. You’ll do exactly as I tell you. I don’t care if I have to drag you down that aisle in chains with the point of my sword in your back. You’re marrying her. Now go.’

Shouto stumbled as King Endeavor shoved him away, releasing his tunic. The front of the garment was in tatters.

‘And get changed,’ Endeavor snapped. ‘You look like some street urchin.’ He turned his back on his son, facing the fire, arms clasped behind his back.

Shouto stared at his father, taking in the details, cementing his hatred of the man. The burn over his left eye seemed to prickle. A stark reminder of everything the man had done. It might not have been his hands on the pot of boiling water, but it had been him who’d driven Shouto’s mother to madness.

This is the last time I’ll ever see you, you bastard.

Shouto turned and left without a word. The guards opened the door when he knocked, and he retraced his steps along the hall. As soon as he reached a cross-section, two guards in pale blue armour fell into step beside him, visors down. Shouto barely reacted, save to say, ‘It did not go well.’

‘I’m not sure what you expected,’ said the guard on his left. His armour was adapted to his needs, with a bird-shaped helm and a thinner gorget to cover his neck. His eyes gleamed red from the slits in his visor. ‘You’d have done better to be away.’

‘Think a little deeper, Tokoyami,’ said the guard on Shouto’s right. He made stiff, emphatic gestures with his hands while he spoke, armour clinking. ‘If he went along with it too easily, the king would have grown suspicious.’

‘Then we are pulling a double-blind?’ asked Tokoyami, sounding thoughtful.

‘There’s still no time to delay,’ said Shouto, turning onto a narrower corridor, though still lavishly furnished, that led to the private quarters of the royal family. Or the royal children, at least. Endeavor had his own quarters elsewhere in the palace, much to his childrens’ relief. Shouto’s doors were at the end of the hall. They’d been recarved at his birth. One half was fire: all sinuous lines and tongues of flame, and the other was ice: fractal patterns and snowflakes.

He pushed open the ice-covered door and entered. He didn’t spare a second glance for the luxuries of his room. The silk sheets and upholstered couches and gilded sconces meant nothing to him. He changed from his soft, rich clothing that was only suitable for inside the castle (suitable for nothing now), into tough leather gear, high boots, a blue surcoat, and a light cloak. His fur-lined one would attract too much notice for a short horse ride on a warm day. He emptied his drawers of jewellery, trinkets, spare money. Anything small and sellable.

Behind him, Tokoyami moved swiftly. Packing extra clothes and blankets into a roll he would conceal beneath his cloak. Iida guarded the door.

Shouto buckled on his sword. ‘Leave anything that won’t last a while.’

He wouldn’t need silk where he was going. Cotton and wool, fur and leather were his fare now. He would grow accustomed. He stepped out onto the balcony, bracing his hands on the balustrade. The castle gardens spread out before him, lush green and hazy in the sultry afternoon. The sky was a perfect, unbroken blue. But all Shouto could see was how quickly it would turn to evening, and how little time he had to put distance between himself and his father before it grew dark.

Something scraped against the castle wall.

Shouto turned his head, eyes widening slowly. There was a woman clinging to the wall. Correction: there was a woman hanging onto a long rope, staring at him like a deer looking down the shaft of a hunter’s arrow. Shouto’s gaze tracked upward, following the line of the rope to a balcony some three floors above. His own was two floors from the ground. His eyebrows rose.

‘Your highness, Princess ____.’ he said. His mind was oddly blank.

You swallowed against a dry throat, clinging to the rope for dear life. ‘Prince Shouto,’ you replied, politely. There was no reason to be rude just because you were dangling from the side of a castle.

Shouto blinked slowly, as though he was trying to dispel a hallucination. ‘Is there a reason you’re rappelling down castle wall?’

Your hands were beginning to burn from the strain. You really weren’t made for this kind of activity. Bracing a foot on the railing of his balcony, you fumbled for an explanation that wouldn’t see you dragged before the king to explain yourself.

‘It’s…a hobby.’ You took in his clothes for the first time. Leather hunting gear? ‘Is that what you’re wearing to the betrothal presentation?’

He stared at you incredulously. ‘I could ask the same question,’ he said in a tone of quiet disbelief. ‘You are, after all, wearing peasant clothing.’

‘You noticed.’

‘I did.’

This really wasn’t going well. You’d done perfectly up until now, ditching both the guards and your ladies-in-waiting. The rope you’d bribed one of the female servants to leave stashed under the bed in your chamber had been long enough. And the knots that old drunk admiral had taught you at a stuffy dinner party had held up just fine, so far. You weren’t sure how much longer you could go dangling like bait on a hook though. All it would take was one wrong glance upward and there’d be a thicket of guards waiting for you at the bottom.

‘Are you…going somewhere?’ Shouto cast a glance back into his quarters. Iida was poking his head out of the door and Tokoyami was waiting with the bundle tucked under his arm.

‘I could ask you the same question,’ you said, throwing his own words back at him.

He tapped his fingers on the balcony. ‘Perhaps.’

‘Then, perhaps,’ you said, growing irritated instead of terrified, ‘you would let me continue what I’m doing in peace?’

‘You’re running away,’ he concluded at last, noting the heavy backback that was slipping off your shoulder. His voice was chilly. ‘How far do you possibly expect to get?’

Then, at the very worst moment, Tokoyami stepped onto the balcony. ‘My prince, we have to leave before the king sends guards-aiyo?!’ He squawked at the sight of you. ‘My prince, that’s-’

‘The princess. I’m aware. She’s running away,’ Shouto said. ‘Are you ready to go?’

‘Yes, everything is prepared,’ said Tokoyami. ‘But, the princess…?’

‘Hm?’ Shouto glanced at you, sizing you up. ‘Oh, yes. Leave her be. She seems to know what she’s doing.’ He turned to leave.

You gaped at him. ‘Then…you’re not going to summon the guards?’

Shouto paused, glancing over his shoulder. ‘That would get in the way of my own plans, your highness. I have no desire to marry you.’

That might have offended you, if you weren’t scaling the castle wall to escape the same situation. You abandoned the rope and hopped neatly down onto the balcony. Tokoyami moved as if to stop you, but you brushed him off, following the prince.

‘You’re running away, too?’

The prince ran a hand through his bicoloured hair, blurring the line between red and white. ‘I am.’

‘Let me come with you.’ The words had left your mouth before you had time to consider the wisdom of them. His eyes widened. You scrambled for an explanation. ‘I won’t get far on my own. I don’t know this kingdom. If they catch me, they’ll force me to marry some old man if they can’t find you. I don’t want to be married. You can drop me off as soon as we’re over the border. I have money. Please.’

His mouth twitched at the corners. ‘You…you are proposing that we run away together…to avoid having to marry each other?’

You laughed at the ridiculousness of it. ‘Yes.’

He stared at you for a long moment, then turned to Tokoyami. ‘Find her some men’s clothes that will fit. A cloak and my spare sword. Iida, get the stablehand you bribed to saddle another horse.’

You started to curtsey, then changed it to a bow. Better get used to pretending to be a boy, for now. ‘Thank you, my prince.’

He flipped up the hood of his cloak. ‘Prince no longer. Just call me Shouto.’

#Anonymous #delaware-lemme-smash #todoroki shouto #Shouto Todoroki #Todoroki Shoto #Shoto Todoroki #bnha #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #boku no hero academia #mha #mha headcanons #mha imagines #mha scenarios #my hero academia #Mod Rig

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mavrisfanfics · 7 years

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Request - Edward Kenway x Reader

Ask:

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed IV - Black Flag

Pairing: Edward Kenway x Reader

Words: 4431 (What’s with me and big fics, god damnit...)

Warnings: OOC af, probably... it’s been a long time

Notes:

I’m sorry I took so long anon! I’ve been working on other projects and the problem I had on my laptop didn’t help. On top of it all, I was hit by writer’s block along the way (ugh... why does such a thing exist...)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

Requests are open!

The best way she found of being truly free, was being a pirate captain. She could do what she wanted, and the dangers only spiced it up. Boarding ships was a favorite of hers, the adrenaline spike during the battle and the reward of gold after it finished made it the most invigorating experience of all. So after a long time without any fighting, she and her crew grew bored and decided to attack one last ship before heading to port. Their target was a brig, and ignoring her instinct, which told her to not engage it, she jumped head first into the battle.

She should have known better. Now that the battle was over, she realized she should have heard her instincts. After the blur of battle, from which she could only remember gunshots, cannon fire and the sound of clashing swords and ships, all she could focus on was the burning remains of the brigantine that slowly disappeared between the waves.

The loud cheers of the enemy crew grew in volume when a part of the brigantine that was still above the water exploded, probably from some gunpowder barrel that was there. Small pieces of wood, cloth and rope rained over the sea and the brig. As the eyes of the captain of the brigantine followed the falling debris, she took a look at the small loot that they had taken from her ship.

"My ship...!" She murmured. Her voice was strained and only the few men of her crew that were tied to the mast along her did hear her.

"We can get another one..." Her quartermaster whispered beside her. His body moved against her side as he turned his head to take a look at the current ship they were on. "This one could be a good replacement."

Someone on the other side of him told him to "keep dreaming...", and their fellow captain couldn't help but agree. With ropes around her wrists and torso, tied to one of the masts of the ship, she knew it would be useless. These pirates would do the same thing she did to others: torture, then kill.

"What do we do with them?" She heard someone unknown ask.

"I don't know... Throw them out into the sea?" Another man replied. She could recognize of the Welsh accent, and she didn't know if she should be happy or feel betrayed that she would be killed by one of her own.

"We could throw them out when we pass by the next port."

A dark skinned man appeared from one side of the mast. He seemed to be circling her crew, observing them and taking a look. He passed by her, only sparing her a glance. Before he could pass on to her quartermaster, though, he did a double take and stepped back to stand in front of her. He looked her up and down with surprise, and she glared at the man.

"Edward, there's a woman here." He told someone at the side of the mast, out of her field of vision. A couple of fast steps were heard and she could finally see the other man. He had a small, scruffy beard and his blond hair was in disarray, as most pirates usually were. Contrasting against his sun-kissed skin, were the bluest eyes she had ever seen, piercing and hypnotizing. Was it another situation, she might have flirted with him, but at the moment all she wanted to do was stab him and all of his damn crew.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" He asked in that Welsh accent. A smirk spread over his lips, barely masking the surprise. The (ex)captain could see that the blond man was as surprised and confused by her presence as his fellow dark-skinned friend.

"What kind of man would let such a pretty thing in a pirate ship?" He stepped closer to her, which along with his mocking tone made the woman glare even harder at him and let out a slight growl. She felt the shoulders of her fellow quartermaster tense beside her, and she knew he was holding back a chuckle.

"Are you the captain?" The Welsh pirate asked her quartermaster, noticing his reaction. "Why would you have such a pretty woman on your ship?" She felt her crew member shake harder against her side.

"I don't know, why don't you ask the captain?" Her quartermaster replied with amusement, pointing at her. She heard chuckles and snickers leave the few men of her crew that had survived the battle.

The dark-skinned man and the Welsh looked at her questioningly.

"Captain (f/n), at your service. I would bow, but I believe the ropes don't allow me such thing." She almost had to bit back a laugh when the two pirates exchanged looks of surprise and the enemy crew whispered between themselves. And then the blonde guy laughed.

"Sure, and I'm supposed to believe that a woman such as yourself is captain of a pirate ship?"

"Being a woman doesn't stop me from being able to cut off your balls if I need to." She replied, offended at his reaction. The men tied to the mast squirmed, probably reminiscing on a past memory.

"What why would you become a pirate?" He asked, pretending to ignore the reaction of her men.

"It was either that or live unhappily with a pig that pretended to be a man. Also, it's fun." She felt like she was giving too much information, but she didn't believe they would let her and her men go, so she didn't care.

"You know, you remind me of someone... Have we met?" He asked after a moment of silence.

"Let me guess, you ask that every woman don't you?"

"No, not all, just the interesting ones." He smirked at her and started passing back and forth in front of her. "But this time, I really think we've met before."

"If we had met and you had that attitude, I would have broken one of your bones, so I don't think we did."

"You are a feisty little thing, aren't ya?" The man's smirk grew. He didn't even let her reply. Instead he turned to his partner. "Adéwalé, make sure our guests feel comfortable."

After that, he turned around and left them. The girl turned to the dark skinned man with a big, innocent looking smile.

"So, Adéwalé, how're you doing?"

It was going to be a long trip, so the least she could do was entertain herself.

---___---___---___---___---___---

She and her men could easily have died of boredom tied to the mast, and among themselves they wondered if that was how they planned to kill them. But the crew of the Jackdaw never did anything to harm them, although some appeared to want to.

After a few days, they started to create games among themselves. One they preferred was the game we nowadays call the telephone game, which would lead to a lot of chuckles and giggles among the prisoners. Eventually, even the Jackdaw crew started to join in when bored.

Along the way, (f/n) had been able to exchange a few words with Adéwalé and a few of the nicer men of the crew, sometimes even holding long conversations at night. Occasionaly, Edward would pass by (Adéwalé had confirmed her suspicion that the man was indeed the captain), but he wouldn't stop for more than a few couple of words, or he would only spare a glance. The longest conversation he had with her or her men was when someone asked them why they were stuck to the mast and not in some sort of cell. Edward just laughed and told them the treasure he had taken from their ship was taking up the place.

A week and half had passed when Adéwalé cut off the rope that tied them to the mast and took the woman to the captain's quarters, where Edward was waiting, sitting at a chair with his feet over a table with maps and charts.

"Why am I here?" She asked, looking around the cabin after Adewalé left. One thing she could say was that it was a lot more messy than her own used to be.

"You know, I have been thinking, I never asked you where you were from." He asked her directly. She looked at him from across the table, while he patiently awaited her answer.

"And why are you so interested?"

"You're welsh too aren't, you?"

"Takes one to know one, I guess..." She replied with a shrug.

"I knew it!" He laughed. He got up from his seat and dragged another chair from a corner of the room, which he put in front of her and motioned her to seat down, before going back to his own.

"So where are you from, exactly?" She asked him before he could ask her the same thing to her.

"I come from Bristol, but I was born in Wales and lived there for a few years. What about you?"

"Born and raised in Swansea! Funny, I had a friend as a kid that moved to Bristol..." She said, while Edward grabbed a nearby bottle and took a swing, before replying:

"Really?! I was born on Swansea as well!"

The two captains (if she could even call herself that) remained in silence for a while. A shock seemed to pass through them before they looked at each other in surprise.

"No way! Kenway?" Edward's lips widened in a smile, while she remained with wide eyes and an open mouth.

"(L/n)?! So I do know you!"

Edward got up from his seat and, after pulling her tied form from her chair, hugged her tightly.

"Hmm... I'm just... hugging you back in my mind, since my arms can't do it."

"Oh! About that..."

Edwards broke from the hug and pulled out his hidden blade, making her jump at the sudden sight of it. Once she recovered from the surprise, the ropes that were once binding her arms fell to the floor.

Moving her arms was painful with all the cramps that assaulted her muscles.

"Aren't you afraid I attack you or something?" She asked Edward. He moved back to his seat once more with a laugh.

"What did I do for you to hate me so much to the point you would attack me?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask my ship? Oh, wait! He's at the bottom of the ocean." A nervous laugh escaped the man. He grabbed an empty glass that was nearby and handed it to her after pouring some of the drink into it.

"Anyway..." He started, trying to change the subject "...how exactly did you become a pirate?"

Reluctantly, the woman accepted the change of subject. The two spoke for hours exchanging stories of their lives after Edward's departure. They got so into it, they couldn't talk about everything that day, so they continued the next day, and the other day after that...

After the first visit to his cabin, the ex-captain and her previous crew weren't tied to the mast anymore, instead they received the option of helping the Jackdaw's crew with navigation, and they could either leave on the next port, join the crew, or steal another ship and sail on their own.

The woman decided to leave on the next port, much to Edward's disappointment.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay here with me?" He had asked her, reminding her of a kicked puppy.

"I've been under the command of others, not very exciting." Had been her reply.

"What about this? Next time we port, I have some business to take care of. You can accompany me, and if you find it interesting, I'll train you."

She didn't know what he meant, but she accepted the condition just to amuse him, having her mind already set up.

Or so she thought. The same way she thought her old friend had told her everything about his life.

The following time her foot touched land was when Edward told her about the Templars and Assassins, after she had to help his ass when his assassination went wrong.

And apparently that was enough excitement to make her stay.

---___---___---___---___---___---___---

"Again!" Edward quietly observed the woman from the upper deck. She stumbled, almost falling to the floor again, when a wave hit the ship. One of the four men she was sparing with tried to help her up, but she refused. She got into an attack position, the stick stuck to her wrist (which she used in the place of a Hidden Blade for sparing) pointing towards her sparing partners.

Edward seemed hypnotized, watching her spar with his crewmembers. Adéwale was the one ordering around the ship at the moment, considering Edward being on the ship pretty much made no difference because of how distracted he was.

He couldn't help but stare at the woman as she seemed to dance around her sparing partners, her “blade” nothing more but an extension of her body. She dodged, blocked, attacked almost perfectly...

...until she left her back open and found herself on the floor again.

"Again!" She screamed once more, showing everyone on the deck of how stubborn she was. Edward called her and she looked at him.

"Always watch your back!" He yelled at her. She nodded, determination taking over her.

Another sparing started, and he watched her carefully, paying attention to the smallest movement of her body: her flowing hair, her cloak dancing around her legs or flying around her hips when she rotated suddenly to defend an attack (She had gotten an Assassin's cloak identical to Edwards, only darken and smaller), the way the corners of her lips twitched up into a smirk when she blocked successfully... He wasn't just hypnotized, he was downright smitten by her. The crew knew it, he knew it, hell, probably the ship itself knew it, but he would never admit that. Last time he was with someone, it didn't end well, and considering they were both pirates and assassins, he knew the relationship would, most likely, end terribly bad. So why bother?

Finally, after countless tries, she was able to dodge an attack from someone behind her. Her lips got stuck in a smile for the rest of the match, and Edward couldn't help but feel proud of her. Once the men were all on the floor, Edward climbed down to the main deck.

"Thought you'd never do it!" He admitted with a laugh.

"Yeah, me too. Still need some training, but I'm getting there! One day even I will be able to beat you!"

"Why don't we try it now?" He asked throwing her the Hidden Blade she had left on top of a barrel during the sparing match. Her demeanor turned serious and she looked at him, worried.

"With the real blades, are you sure?" He nodded at her before replying:

"I believe you'll be careful enough."

After a moment of hesitation, she threw the stick on her wrist away and put the Hidden Blade where it belonged.

The two stepped away from each other. She stuck out her hidden blade, as Edward pulled out his sword, both of them in battle stances. Most of the crew's attention turned to them, those who had work to do spared only a few amused glances. Their captain versus the woman, that would be interesting. The few who had worked under her and stayed were even more interested that the rest.

Edward lunged at her and she blocked successfully. The two then exchanged blows, always countering and blocking the other. It seemed that they couldn't decide on a winner.

But then she blocked one of his blows by twisting her arm and shoving his sword away from her with the help of her blade. She then spun in the other direction and hit him right in the face with her elbow.

Edward stumbled back with a hand over his nose and she turned to him again, smug look on her face. And when he saw it, his complain got stuck in his throat. Her smug look did things to him... He smiled at her, sheathed the blade and chuckled.

"That was a nice hit!". Edward wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her against him in a "friendly" manner. She glanced at him sideways. Weren't they continuing? That was it? "Tonight we'll celebrate your progress once we reach land! What do you say?"

He dragged her for a while as he awaited her answer. Once she weakly accepted it, he released her, with a pat in the back, and made a beeline for his quarters, leaving her disappointed that they didn't keep sparing.

"Hey, Adewalé!" She called, noticing said man watching her from the upper deck. "Would you mind sparing with me?!"

"Sure." He replied, walking down towards her.

As they were both getting into fighting stances, he amusedly wondered if she had noticed Edward "fix" the front of his pants before leaving.

---___---___---___---___---___---___---

Edward didn't know if the weakness at his knees was due to the landing, the giggle, or the small hand he was pulling through the streets of Havana. The female pirate looked behind her occasionally to check the guards right behind them. Edward turned a sharp right, but she had different plans.

"Meet you at the ship!" She yelled at him, before releasing herself from his grasp and running in the opposite direction, calling the attention of most of the guards away from him. Edward tried to call her back, but the few guards that were chasing him had a slightly higher priority on his to-do list.

After luring them to a hidden corner and killing them or knocking them out (a faster option than outrunning then, in Edward's opinion), he tried to find her, worried that something might happen to her.

He could have headed back to the Jackdaw, but he wanted to make sure she was alright. He knew she could defend herself, but he didn't know if she could handle all the guards that followed her.

The longer he spent running through the rooftops of Havana without finding her, the more worried he got, all kinds of bad scenarios running through his head. Only after about an hour did he give up and return to the ship, so the crew could help him on his search. When he was nearing the port, the Jackdaw already on sight, he noticed another figure jumping a few building away.

A sigh of relief left him when he recognized her robes. She waved at him when she noticed him, big grin on her face. The distraction made her trip and almost fall from the roof, much to his horror, but she held on to the edge, and pulled herself up with a sheepish smile. She sat on the same spot for a while, recovering from the fright, and Edward headed towards her, angry and ready to scold her for her recklessness.

"Edward! That was so fun, we have to do that again!" She said, excited, when he landed on the roof she was in.

"Are you insane?! What were you thinking, running off on your own?!" He scolded, arms crossed as her gave her a stern glare.

"Edward, relax, there was no problem, I lost them easily, I just figured I could lose them better by blending with the crowd, and you could run faster without dragging me round." She explained, before adding with a giggle "And it was fun!" Edward pinched the bridge of his nose.

" 'twas stupid! I was worried."

"Aw~! Big captain Kenway was worried with wee old me~!" She joked. She tried to get up, but she winced when her weight landed on her feet.

"What is it?" Edward's demeanor went from stern to worried immediately. "Are you hurt?"

"My ankles hurt, I did a weird landing earlier. I'll be fine soon..." She reassured him.

"Is any of that blood yours?" She shook her head, while he searched her body for any wounds.

"No, one of the guards just caught up to me and I had to deal with it. I'm fine." She got away from him and slowly walked to a nearby ladder. "Let's get back to the ship."

"What you did was stupid. " He said, and she stopped before the ladder.

"Which part?" She asked with a light smirk.

"All, but mostly the part where you attacked our target as if there were no guards." He replied, crossing his arms and returning with the stern look.

"Well, you were being all stealthy and you almost lost him, so I had to use a different tactic."

"And you had to jump from the roof while everyone was watching?" She stepped closer to him, to the point where she was right in his face.

"I got the job done. You were being too careful."

"Because I didn't want to put you in danger." She blushed at his confession "You were not ready yet."

"Well, being a coward won't do us any good if we lose sight of our target. And you can't complain much, you got some nice rewards too!" She slapped the pouch on the side of his waist, which had a lot more money than it had when they ported in Havana. A smirk grew on his face.

"When I see an opportunity, I take it." She released a clear laugh, and Edward swore his heart stopped.

"Opportunity? I didn't know that's what they called money these days."

They stared at each other in comfortable silence. Edward felt his pouch heavy on his side, but it wasn't because it was heavy, but because of what was inside. Was it a good time?

The sky was gaining an orange tint and the wind picked up, dragging to land the smell of the sea and the sound of the waves crashing into the piers a couple hundred feet away. Some strands of her hair got into her mouth and she spewed them out, making Edward laugh at her. She laughed too, once the strands were away from her lips.

Edward decided to throw caution at the wind and pulled a silver necklace from his pouch.

"Here, I got this for you." He said. She gasped in surprise "I noticed you were eyeing it earlier, so I stole it in the middle of the mess."

"I wasn't eyeing it, I just happened to glance at the woman wearing it."

"No, you were eyeing it!"

"...Okay, maybe I was eyeing it, but you didn't need to steal it for me!" She admitted with a chuckle.

"If you don't want it, we could always sell it."

"No! I'll keep it!" She slowly took the necklace from his hands and checked the little details on the teardrop-shaped pendent, with a (Favorite Gem) in the middle. "You really didn't have to steal it, though. You don't own me anything."

"Don't I own you a ship?" He asked jokingly.

"Yes, you do, but a single necklace won't pay for it." She joked. "You'll have to try harde-!"

Next thing she knew, his lips were crashing into hers. Edward's kiss was slow and passionate, spontaneous. She wasted no time kissing him back, heart soaring high with happiness. She wrapped her arms around his neck, one hand clutching the necklace and the other running through his hair. His were on her hips. Their lips were locked for a while, and when they split up, it felt like they had awoken from a dream.

She could see the moment he regretted his actions, while she remained stunned, trying to process the fact that her best friend just kissed her. He turned away from her and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"I'm sorry, (F/n), I don't know what came over me. Let's just forget it happened and get back to the Jackdaw." He apologized as he walked to the edge of the roof, preparing to jump off it.

"I like you!" She blurted in a panic, not wanting to let go of the chance. "I know I shouldn't, we're friends, but I do! And if you feel the same way, I'd like you to tell me!" He stopped a the edge and released a bittersweet chuckle.

"You can do better than me."

"I know I can, but I don't want better! Because a 'better' man would make me be stuck at home, while with you I can be myself and not be judged for it!" She exclaimed. "I... I love you, and if that kiss meant something, then you feel the same for me... right?..."

He finally looked at her, and once she looked into his eyes, she knew she had the same expression: hopeful, praying that their feeling were reciprocated.

"Of course!" He smiled. "I'd have to be blind not to love you too."

In a burst of happiness, she ran to him and hugged him with a giggle, before repaying his previous kiss with one of her own.

“I’m so glad we met again.” He admitted with a whisper, after they broke off the kiss.

“Yeah, me too...”

Adewalé watched them arrive at the ship, hands intertwined and big smiles, while she rambled to Edward of new things she had to train. The quartermaster muttered a "finally", happy his friend and superior, until a new, disturbing thought came to mind.

Knowing those two, he wondered how many nights of sleep he and the crew would lose.

#request #Assassin's Creed #black flag #ac4 black flag #edward kenway #x reader #assassin's creed x reader #fanfic #reader-insert #reader #request plz

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imagine-loki · 7 years

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Dragons Don't Just Take Princesses

TITLE: Dragons Don’t Just Take Princesses CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 1 AUTHOR: land-of-dragons-and-frogs ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine being the leader of a (rather large and powerful) hidden nation of shape-shifters. You are one of the few who can shape-shift into a dragon as you happen to have two true forms–your usual appearance and that of a dragon… RATING: E for Everyone (rating may change in later chapters, stay tuned!!) NOTES/WARNINGS: Kidnapping, bloody battles. Also dragons, if that’s your thing ;3c

“Highness, I don’t think it’s a good idea…” You roll your eyes, feathered wings guiding you in circles over the battle raging several hundred feet below you. “What if you get hurt? Or killed? Or caught?”

“Then we’ll worry about it when it happens.” Your general, a crow like yourself, sighs wearily, flying next to you as you ceased circling and flew behind a nearby hill.

“If this backfires, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal.” You slip into a more natural shape, one intended to strike fear into the hearts of men. Your talons sink into the soft earth, leathery wings expanding and stretching for the hasty fight and flight maneuver you intend to complete. “Meet me in the stronghold as soon as you can. If I spot you as I go, I’ll give you a lift.” Before he can complain, you take to the air, soaring back to the battlefield.

You hear the screams, the clashes and clangs, the thwap of arrows, before you land your first attack. You spot him—the green one, bathed in a powerful aura of green and blue with flecks of black and gold—before launching a fireball at the opposing army. You feel arrows clink off your True Silver scales, a growly chuckle escaping your scraggle-tooth maw as you circle back and launch another fireball. This time you dip down and mow down some of the soldiers, taking out a catapult on your way.

Once you circle back for a third run, you align your path differently. You send off two fireballs, this time flying low over the green one’s army; arrows plink against your scales, fire roars in your ears.

You lazily extend a clawed hand down, plucking the green one straight from his place on the ground. You feel him trying to cast spells on you, hitting your claws with his fists, cursing at you with what you can only assume is Asgardian—your grip doesn’t budge. True Silver is magic-proof, after all.

You extend a farewell gift of a catapult-destroying gust of flame towards the green one’s opposing army before flying off towards your stronghold.

Your stronghold was a three day’s flight for all. Well, all except a dragon. The trip takes you about an hour, though you pause in the first few minutes to collect your pouting general mid-flight; the raven perches on one of your secondary sets of horns, protected from the wind.

The Green One went quiet within the first ten minutes of flight; that, or you were going fast enough that the wind took his words. You weren’t sure which, though he was quiet when you began to slow down for your landing.

You touched down carefully, paw containing your captive held off the ground so that you did not crush him under your weight. You gathered ancient draconic magic within yourself, willing it to take the shape you wished; when you released him, a thin silver chain and collar appeared. The collar was designed to block all forms of the green one’s magic while fitting snugly, allowing for proper air flow and without impeding speech or food intake. The chain would hold wherever your placed it without risk of a link snapping or shattering; currently, said chain was wrapped around your claws. You did not bother checking for concealed weapons; you knew he more than likely had them, but right now you were untouchable.

The Green One looked stunned and confused, eyeing you with what appeared to be a healthy sense of fear and concern. You sat on your haunches, peering down at him, assessing the man sat in front of you. His raven-black, dark blue in the right lighting, long hair was tousled from the wind, a knotted mess in the back. His skin was a soft cream color, yet not overly pale; something told you that this hue was not a reality. The green and gold-embroidered cloth that sat under the polished gold-link chainmail suited the man, especially with what was obviously specialty-made thick breeches. The man lost a boot mid-flight; the puppy-covered sock pattern was more amusing than you’d admit.

A lanky black cat settled on your claws, looking up at you with bright brown eyes. Yes, that’s right. You had no way to explain the situation to the man. Your general was right—what were you thinking?

Time to rip the band aid off.

You shift your focus from the man to the cat, shifting your claws; your general hopped off of them and sauntered over to your captive, settling in the man’s lap. Lazy bastard.

You fill your being with magic, imagining the form you wished to take. Wings shrank into nothingness, replaced with your usual appearance—a clean red Midgardian hoodie, nice jeans, sneakers, and a soft fluffy cat tail with a fur color that matched your hair. You had ears to match, but those were currently hidden under the hood of your jacket.

“Welcome.”

—————

The battlefield was like any other. Hack, slash, spell here, speed heal, block an arrow from killing Thor, stab an enemy soldier or three, rinse and repeat. Sometimes Loki would argue with his brother, but today the fighting was too thick for that. In fact, he thought they’d have to withdraw before the beast showed up.

One second he’d been fighting three men at once, and the next there was a fiery explosion and a large shadow soaring over the battleground. A glance upwards confirmed the source of the shadow: a giant silver dragon. One that was apparently fighting on his side.

It took out more of the enemy, sending them into pandemonium as their opponents ran to seek cover from the aerial onslaught. The creature even took out a catapult, though that might have been to protect itself from the army.

It fired off more fire, and then suddenly he wasn’t fighting anymore. His ribs were constricted, he’d been jerked off his feet, his stomach dropped to what felt like his feet; he’d have thought he’d been hit by a battering ram were it not for the claws trapping him in an iron grip, keeping him from falling to the ground.

He saw Thor shout something at him, fear apparent in his brother’s eyes; he could only watch as the battlefield quickly faded from view, spells and knives useless against the beast.

He fought against its grip for a short while, wind snatching the words he screamed at the beast. He demanded to be released, to be let go and freed. His boot slipped off of his foot from the sheer force of the wind; he watched it tumble into the clouds below. Swallowing nervously, he opted not to fight his captor. Asgardian or not, he wouldn’t survive a fall from this height if he was caught unaware.

Eventually the beast landed in a wooded clearing, holding him a few inches in the air to not crush him. The clearing might have been a designated landing space, but the tall grass and blooming flowers suggested otherwise. Somewhere nearby, water was flowing—a stream or creek of some sort, he supposed absently.

He kept his eyes on the silver dragon, its piercing eyes scanning him over before dropping him to the ground. He winced, tailbone throbbing where it had hit a rock. The ground was cool and gentle under his sock, kept springy and soft from a layer of moss.

A weight settled around his throat, blocking his sensation the local magical aura. The weight was not uncomfortable nor was it too tight on his throat; it was the implication of the object that frightened him more than he was willing to admit. He was defenseless, save for the knife he had stashed in his remaining boot. In his panicked state, he noticed that a slim silver chain connected from his throat to the claws of the dragon.

A cat, a black one that he had not noticed before (which in itself was odd—where did it come from?), sauntered off of the dragon’s claws and onto his lap. He went to pet it out of habit only to find that he was unable to move. Was it the dragon’s magic, or was it the cat’s? He wasn’t sure. Quite frankly, it didn’t matter. His heartbeat quickened, ingrained fear making it difficult to think clearly.

And then, the dragon changed.

It shrank, diminishing in size and shape until it became something almost Asgardian in form. It was smaller than himself, only coming up to his chest, in clothes he’d never seen before. Perhaps the clothing came from a different realm? What caught his attention was the long, soft-looking tail that seemed to protrude from your rear. If he had to guess, you had a matching set of ears on your head. The dragon-creature radiated an authority and power he had never felt before; it was calming in a strange sort of way. It made him feel… oddly safe. He did not drop his guard—he didn’t wish to be killed—but it reassured him that nothing would happen to him just yet.

“Welcome.” The voice carried the same authority, strong and secure and fully of what he could only describe as honey-smooth calmness. This individual could turn into a dragon at a whim, so he was sure nothing he could do would harm them.

“Who…” His voice was rough, throat raw and painful after screaming at them during the flight. The way their eyes pierced him, as if looking straight into his soul after he spoke… A shiver ran down his spine.

“I go by many names. You may call me Y/N.” They do not mince words, their tone of voice still as calm and in control as it had been before. “What, pray tell, is your name?”

“I am Loki, Prince of Asgard.” He found himself speaking without thinking, voice shaky and confused. It was as if something inside of him told him that his captor already knew who he was. “Why did you take me?”

They do not answer his question. They merely cock their head to the side, watching him as if he were an interesting item for them to observe. The silence is crushing, overbearing; he looks away as if that would protect him from the silence of the surrounding area. Why was he acting so… defenseless?

“General, allow Loki to get up.” They spoke, shattering the silence. The cat seemed to sigh and get off of him, only to turn into a rather tall and thin man with strawberry-blonde hair. This man was also in strange clothing: a black top similar to the one word by your captor, but with a purple wave-like symbol on the chest; shorts with what seemed to be a million full pockets; and sturdy shoes that had seen better days.

“Highness, I still don’t think this is a good idea…” General grumbled, eyeing him as if he would strike at any given moment.

“Hush, you. He’s mine, and therefore not your problem.” His heart stopped in his chest, icy-cold fear dragging it’s claws down his back and into his lungs. He’d heard Fandral speak of some of the women he’d bedded in a similar fashion; was he…

Was he a slave now?

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laseroy89 · 7 years

Text

Recalled

Franklin Road has been closed for as long as I could remember. The fence spanning it has rusted over years of rain and shine, and the “STOP” and “ROAD CLOSED” signs hung onto the small little grilles by a flimsy chain. Three huge concrete blocks stood in front of the fence, their warning black and yellow lines flaking off. Oddly for an abandoned road, there were no visible potholes expected from a long period of no maintenance. There was however a layer of dead leaves and twigs, as nature slowly encroached on the tarmac, in the form of overgrown trees and numerous weeds at the roadside.

I passed by Franklin Road everyday on my way to and from school, and sometimes when I wasn’t too rushed, I would just pause at the fence, and peer into the unknown. Even though the signs had faded and dulled over time, they still reflected much of the sun’s rays and would have obliterated my retinae if not for my hands constantly shielding my eyes. The trees were sorely in need of trimming; they extended their thick branches over the road, blocking much of the sunlight like a colossal green umbrella. The minuscule gaps in the canopy let in a little light that shone on the mounds of dead leaves, giving the effect of a large speckled carpet laid across the lane. It would have looked welcoming if not for the gloomy atmosphere clinging to that place, probably due to the complete absence of birds, or any animal for that matter. It was just dead silent, a stark contrast to the bustling road just beyond the fence.

I tried to think of it as a normal closed road, or as normal as a closed road could get. However, there was something odd about it that I can’t put my finger on. It wasn’t the overbearing silence, nor the general creepiness of the place; it was something else that I felt like I should know, but I had completely no idea what it was. That nagging feeling lurked at the back of my mind, like there was a finger slightly depressing the alarm button in my head, not enough to set off my alarm bells, but deep enough to cause an insatiable itch.

Why was it that no one had ever talked about it explicitly to me? Whenever I mentioned Franklin Road, everyone would either fall silent, or change the subject suddenly, stopping me from pressing on the topic further. Even my parents. It was confusing, and it made me uncomfortable, as if I’ve violated some unspoken rule. Which is by the way absolutely absurd. I’ve lived in this neighbourhood my entire life, I know almost everyone in this place, and no one has ever taught me about any rule.

The very first person I coaxed into talking about Franklin Road was my new friend Megan, who just moved in from….not really sure, some place west. She confirmed my suspicions that there was indeed some special rule.

“They told me not to talk to you about it.”

“Really? Who’s they?”

“Your friends, the teachers….everyone. Everyone told me not to talk about it - and they didn’t tell me why, just said so in a really serious tone. Which is kinda stupid - how can they expect me to follow what they say without telling me why?” She wringed her hands in mock exasperation.

Now this made matters more interesting. It’s like a conspiracy theory against me….for some meaningless forgotten road?

“You know….how ‘bout we go find out what the hell this is about after school?”

She nodded her agreement. Goddamn, what a way to ask a girl out.

We met at the fence of Franklin Road at around 9pm. Under the cover of night, the creepiness took on a new level of intensity. In the absence of light, the thin grilles of the fence were almost invisible, an unseen barrier between the secrets locked within and the world outside. The dull signs hung ominously, as if warning us that no good would come out of this venture. I switched on my torchlight, and it failed to pierce beyond five metres into the inky darkness beyond.

It was surprisingly easy to overcome the fence - just hop on the concrete block and clamber over the top, and we were in.

Once on the other side, looking back at the brightly-lit street was surreal, a perspective that I’ve imagined but never experienced. The view of the water from a fish stranded on land - vulnerable in a strange new environment, gazing back at the world we left behind.

We proceeded forward, my torchlight a little beacon bobbling in a sea of darkness, barely probing it. Our movement slowed down to a snail’s pace, with hands outstretched, feeling for any obstacles. It didn’t help that our footsteps crunching through the dead plant matter were magnified tenfold, due to the lack of any other sound. It was eerie, to hear absolutely nothing but our own movement, like the area had intentionally quietened down in order to survey us newcomers. Were there malicious monsters hiding behind the cloak of darkness, observing our every move, waiting for the right moment to strike? In an environment devoid of sound, sometimes imagination just gets restless, starts running wild and plants all sorts of crazy ideas in one’s head. We both focused on moving forward.

We concentrated so much on the thin sliver of light emitted from my pathetic torchlight, that it took quite a while before we realised that we had walked into a clearing. I shut off my light, and let my eyes adjust to the ambient moonlight. Over here, there were much less leaves on the ground, and the night sky could be seen without obstruction.

Megan nudged me and pointed to my left. I squinted my eyes, and could barely discern a gaping hole of blackness - a small road that linked to Franklin Road. “Cool, so this place was once a Y-junction.”

“Yeah, but look at that.”

I stared a little longer at the spot before I found what she referred to. It was an extremely faint patch of white which escaped my attention the first time round. Odd, considering that the roadside should be a predominantly wooded area.

My curiosity aroused, I strode over to the white patch. As I got closer, I could make out more and more white, mixed in with a little grey - it seemed to be some sort of car wreckage, half-hidden in the bushes. I immediately clicked on my torchlight to investigate this interesting finding, but couldn’t turn it on. Strange, I could’ve sworn I brought full batteries.

The white patch turned out not to be a car wreckage, but seemed to be some sort of huge white van. Only the metal frames and the bottom half of the body still remained. The top appeared to have burnt off, as deduced from charred ends on the bottom half. The wheels were in no great condition either - three of them had fallen out and all of them were punctured.

“It’s alright, kid. I’ll get you out.” Warm, burnt hands loosened the straps around my chest, but left those on my legs. A blackened face appeared in front of me. That person slowly pushed my gurney upright. My head rolled to the side and hit one of the many boxes they had onboard. I groaned in pain, my vision momentarily swimming. “Sorry, kid. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be okay.” The same tired, yet kindly voice spoke in my ear again, sounding much weaker than before.

I shook my head and rubbed my temples. I had no idea why that scene flashed through my head.

“There’s some wording at the side - but it’s too dark, can’t really read it.”

Throwing whatever just happened to the back of my mind, I walked slowly to where Megan was. Sure enough, there were some huge white letters printed against a dark red background, nearly obscured by large, deep gashes. This van has been through some shit. I stepped closer to read the words, and stepped on something round with a loud crack. A light - a flashing light, one that is normally attached to emergency vehicles like fire engines and - ambulances.

A flurry of noises soon cleared out into distinct sounds. A lady screaming somewhere. A lot of male voices shouting at each other. Not really clear enough to hear what they were saying though. Oh, and lots of metal clanging, making my head throb even more. Man, that was pain. And what’s that beeping on my chest? Something electrical. Oooooh, eeeeeelectrical. And -

Blinding white light. Oh my gosh, so fucking bright. This heaven or somethin’? Not even whatever God there was could be this bright. Can’t really blind your followers - unless they are already blind. Hahaha - ooooooooh I’m on a bed with wheels. I just realised. This is really cool - I can go anywhere I want now while lying down. Oh my head has a white cloth wrapped around it, that stinks of alcohol. Oh - and hey I’m going upslope!! And the light is gone - only to be replaced by another bright light. I think father calls it flourescent, or something like that. And hey I’m moving but my bed isn’t moving. Oh I know what’s going on, I’m in a moving van!!! Hahahahahaha this is some exciting shit - why the FUCK AM I IN AN AMBULANCE?

“Bryan? You there?” Megan’s words brought me back to reality. That seemed so real, so vivid, as if I was actually there. I felt everything - the lightheadedness, the confusion at what was going on, the dull throbbing of my head, the pungent stink of rubbing alcohol, the cacophony of fuzzy voices. It felt familiar, yet foreign.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” I answered without conviction, but she had moved on into the interior of the wreckage. I followed uncertainly, gripping the sides to support myself in case the visions came again. Inside the ambulance, there was a charred gurney, some first aid boxes, burnt cloth that looked like bandages, and a pair of defibrillators. And wedged in the ambulance left, almost completely hidden by the bushes, was another car carcass. Only the front half could be seen, and the bonnet was stuck halfway into what remained of the ambulance’s left wall.

There was a bandage over half of my head. I guess that’s why I was in this ambulance.

The ceiling shook. The flourescent lights shook. My gurney shook. My body shook. My IV line shook. Everything shook, along with the loud revving and the muffled sirens of the ambulance. Everything except for the hand holding mine. “You’re gonna be alright kid, just a minor head injury. We’ll reach the hospital soon, just need do a little patching up and you’re good to go.” The deep kindly voice said to my right ear. Another hand patted my stomach. I couldn’t feel any pain, but I felt like some bits of my face was missing. Or just numb. Oh man, I hope it was the latter -

I couldn’t hear it - I guess my ears were blown out. There was some kind of shrill ringing in my ears, other than that I couldn’t really hear much. But I could definitely feel the impact of something huge ramming into the side of the vehicle. My head flew to the side and hit the railing. I slipped in and out of consciousness. It was hard to observe my surroundings now. The light went out. Some orange glow at my feet - fire. Some boxes had fallen on me. My head was tilted in an uncomfortable angle. I had no control over my body.

“It’s alright, kid. I’ll get you out.” Warm, blackened hands loosened the straps around my chest, but left those on my legs. The paramedic pulled himself from underneath me. In the orange glow of the fire, I could see that he was injured, and was drenched in blood. I wanted to help him, but I couldn’t move a muscle. His blackened face gave me a charred smile. He slowly pushed my gurney upright, grunting with pain and exhaustion. My head rolled to the side and hit one of the many boxes they had onboard. I groaned in pain, my vision momentarily swimming. “Sorry, kid. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be okay.” The same tired, yet kindly voice spoke in my ear again, sounding much weaker than before.

He propped himself up next to me, and pushed open the ambulance door. Bright light flooded the cabin. “Get clear, brace yourself, yeah?” His voice rang with a tone of finality. I felt a tug and a push, and suddenly my gurney was set free. I rolled out from the ambulance, the bright sunlight momentarily blinding me. As I rolled away from the vehicle, I felt a wave of warmth cascade over me. Did the ambulance explode? There was something hot - hot flames licked my feet. Wait. Hot flames licked my feet. HOT FLAMES LICKED MY FEET!!!

I struggled with the flaming hand that grabbed my ankle. No, no, no, no, this was real life now - the entire ambulance was ablaze and I was lying right there in the centre. A fiery spectre had crawled out of where the collided car’s windscreen used to be. Its entire body was just a skeleton that was burning with an orange flame, and its skeletal hand was now grabbing my left leg. I yowled in pain as the flames from his hand scorched my skin. The flaming corpse cocked its head and looked at me, its charred eyeholes bored into me with fierce desperation.

“SET ME FREE.” It begged in a deep, raspy voice.

“Get off me!” I continued to struggle, the heat almost unbearable. My ankle was definitely a goner now, and the agony seared through me like a red-hot iron. No, I’m not gonna die like this.

“SET ME FREE!!! SET ME FREE!!! SET ME FREEEEEEE!!!” Its begging shed its pleading tone and started to fill with anger, rising in pitch and intensity until it became a scream. “SET ME FREEEEEE!!!”

“Megan!!” I shouted for help, only to realise she was nowhere to be seen. Had she already been devoured by this demon? No, this is getting worse by the minute. The flames ate their way up my calf, my skin starting to peel off and my flesh starting to char. Oh shit -

“It’s alright, kid. I’ll get you out.” Where have I heard that one before? A white human apparition appeared to my right. It bent over and gently pried the burning hands off my calf. I gingerly pulled myself away, gritting my teeth at the intense pain.

“Just need to do a little patching up and you’re good to go.” The being gently patted my wound, and I felt the skin in that area start to cool down. My flesh slowly lost its blackness, and my skin was slowly putting itself back. It was healing me.

“Get clear, brace yourself, yeah?” He nodded at me knowingly, and I acknowledged. I crawled backwards as fast as I could, retreating from the ambulance.

The ghostly paramedic grabbed the fiery spectre and forced it back into the car, kicking and punching it. Upon reaching the windscreen, it stuffed the spectre’s head into the car’s cabin, and squeezed in as well. The two spirits grappled with each other, and the spectre’s head was forced into the dashboard of the car multiple times before the wreckages exploded. A familiar wave of warmth cascaded over me as I blacked out.

I woke up to the sight of a weeping Megan and my concerned parents kneeling over me. Apparently, Megan had been investigating the wreckage, and was so engrossed in probing round the remains that it was about an hour before she noticed she was alone. She had to find her way out by herself, which took about two hours due to the spoilt flashlight function and the dim screen of her mobile phone. She only called my parents and the police after climbing over the fence, due to the poor reception in the area.

There was no wreckage at all; all remains were removed within two days of the accident, and the road was closed. Not really sure why, and don’t really care why. I know what I saw was real to me, and that was what really mattered. I confronted my parents about what happened, kinda pissed at why they blocked everything from me, found out that my brain had somehow blocked the memories and to prevent any traumatic flashbacks, they decided to do what they did and got everyone in on it too. At least they told me where the paramedic rested in peace.

I visit the paramedic, Scott, any time I could. I owe him my life, and my memory. It wasn’t enough to respond to my accident at home, then sacrifice himself to save me in the ensuing ambulance accident - he literally came back from the dead to save me again. Thanks Scott, for going beyond the call of duty.

#road #accident #car accident #nosleep #paramedic

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