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jimlingss · 5 years

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Magic & Mysteries [2]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 [Finale] | The Sequel Oneshot

➜ Words: 10.8k

➜ Genres: 95% Fluff, 5% Angst, Adventure, Witch!AU, Familiar!AU, Hybrid!AU

➜ Summary: Everything’s okay....EVERYTHING’S OKAY, YOU’RE FINE. Look, you just have one tiny problem. It’s an itty-bitty issue. Not that big of a deal. So what if you don’t have a familiar and you’re about to take on the ENTIRE family business. Oh, you have a name to uphold? Everyone’s depending on you? Great. That’s just fantastic. But it’s fine. You’ll get your familiar and you’ll run the best damn potion shop the world has ever seen. Everything will be fine, right?

Spoiler alert: everything was NOT fine.

You’re running for your life. Feet moving faster than your body can register, heaving breaths tearing from parted lips, you sprint with all your might. You’re a thunderbolt darting down the street, slipping through the crowds. Every so often, you glance over your shoulder like a fugitive or a criminal. But no. You’ve done nothing wrong. Yet, you’re being chased. “Stop it, Y/N!” A stern voice echos into your mind. “Get out of my head!” You scream, grabbing fistfuls of your hair, making strangers move out of the way and shoot you odd looks. There’s a long, exhausted sigh. “You’re going to trip and fall.” Like he says, you tumble, nearly falling flat on your face when your shoe hits a rock. But you catch yourself, hurling your body forward. Forward. Once you reach the shop, you throw the door open. It crashes against the wall. Mr. Lee is at the counter, in the middle of a conversation with a customer. Both magical folks regard you with wide eyes and you throw yourself at the counter. “Y/N?!” Hyperventilating and moving a strand of hair away from your face, you spit it out, “I-I’m so sorry! I know this is so rude, but I’m going to need my paycheck. Right now.” He blinks. “What’s the matter?” “I’m leaving town.” You look over your shoulder, harshly whispering as if he can hear you, “I need it right now.” “What?” The old man’s brows furrow, confused, though he slowly follows with your desperate request. “Is there something the matter? Something you need help with, dear?” “I’ll explain it later by pigeon. I’m so….so sorry!” Mr. Lee opens his cash register, counting the bills and slipping them in the white envelope. “Well, I only have half of your paycheck with me at the moment. I haven’t had time to withdraw from the bank ye—” “It’s good for now! Thank you!” You take it, stuffing it in your satchel. “I’ll see you soon!” There aren’t any proper goodbyes. You can’t bid farewell to all the people you met, talk to Taehyung one last time or even return the key to the innkeeper. Though you’re sure the latter doesn’t mind — she’ll be pissed when she realizes you haven’t come back, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Though the worse part is that you’ve left behind your most prized possessions. Your broomstick is still in the room. Dammit. You turn in the alleyway and he appears in front of you, an apparition materializing in the air, particles stitching together to form his body. The man is unimpressed, brow lifted as he skims you from head to toe with his eyes. “Where do you think you’re going?” You scream, backing up and running the other way. But where are you even supposed to go? No matter what corner you turn, he’ll materialize. He shouldn’t be able to. His magical abilities shouldn’t be so extensive. But he’s not just a mere familiar. He’s a wizard. Jimin manifests himself in front of a crowd, arms crossed and sighing. “You can keep running, but you’re exhausting yourself, y’know.” “Go away!” you shout and finally, it’s enough to catch people’s attention. You run in the opposite direction, not wasting a moment. “Y/N!” Before he can catch you, he’s stopped by several concerned bystanders. “Are you bothering her?” “No!” He exhales, dragging a hand over his face. “I’m her familiar!” Bated breath held in your throat, you collect yourself. You’ve found a hiding spot. A bush. A decorative bush on the side of the road, meant to make the town look pretty. The fern leaves are high, covering the top of your head and finally with a moment to breathe, you calculate what you can do. You could catch a ferry out of this place. There’s a possibility you could sneak past him and onto the pier, but then there’s a chance he can transport himself on the boat. There would be no escape then. Considering you’re the worst swimmer in the family, if you jumped ship, you’d drown and die. You could go to the police station for protection, but at the end of the day, he’s done nothing wrong. He hasn’t broken any law and you highly doubt any officer would believe you even if you told them what was going on. But if there was one thing that you were good at… You could run back to the inn, grab your broomstick and book it out of here. He would never be able to catch up if you’re constantly up in the air. You’re also confident about your flying skills. But you don’t know if you can make it back to your room in the first place. “Y/N?” Jimin brushes past you. He’s clothed, wearing your robes that are much too short on him and all too tight everywhere. He looks ridiculous, especially with your messenger cap, hiding the ears on his head. But with one glance at him, you hunch down more into the bushes. A shadow looms over your figure. “Mommy….why is there a witch in the bushes?” You cringe, trying to shoo the kid away in whispers, “go away, go away!” But the five-year old girl is much too curious. She looks down at you, cheeks rosy and eyes rounded. “What are you doing?” Luckily, her mom takes her hand and drags her off. “Rose, what did I tell you about talking to weirdos?” Maybe you can just transport yourself elsewhere. You’re not good at this kind of magic, but it wouldn’t try to hurt. You inhale, shutting your eyes tight, squeezing your hands into tight fists. You murmur the memorized incantation over and over again. Please, please, please. You envision a tropical beach, painting a beautiful picture of somewhere far, far away from here. Oceans crashing against the shore, the sea salt mist kissing upon your warmed cheeks. Seagulls swooping above you. Laughter and giggles of children. Humans around you, basking in the sunlight. You print the picture onto the forefront of your mind. You imagine a honeymoon destination, a vacation spot. And you can feel your body beginning to slip. Like you’re falling into a dream, your mind moves, fingertips to your toes tingling. Almost there…. But then a shadow looms over your figure. And it’s not the girl. “There you are!” Your collar is grabbed, entire body picked up. Your concentration is broken, body unable to materialize where you want it to go. “No! No!” He drags you. “Let me explain myself, stupid girl!” “Get away from me!” “Y/N-! Ow!” His grip loosens when you stomp on his toes. Chaos ensues. You slip away. Jimin shouts your name, running after you. But you don’t stop, destination already in mind. The inn’s door smashes open and you run past the counter, up the stairs. The innkeeper grimaces. “No running allowed!” You ignore her. Luckily enough, the room is still as you left it, unlocked. You shut it once you’re inside, broomstick in the corner. Grabbing it, you open the window, positioning the broom in between your legs and you’re already halfway out, leg hanging out the window— “Y/N!” The door slams open. “Bindora!” He shouts the spell. Instantaneously, you are paralyzed. It’s as if your limbs have been bound together with invisible rope and you scream, falling over, back into the room. The broomstick clatters to the floor. The man is gasping, pushing away his blonde strands from his sweaty face. He shuts the door and then steps over your body, falling onto the mattress. He catches his breath and sits up, looking down at you. “Are you done?” You roll over to face him. “W-what do you want from me?” “At least let me explain,” Jimin sighs and slumps to the ground, sitting on the floor with you. His arm rests on his propped up knee, lips pressed in a tight line. You’re still bounded, unable to move. It’s pathetic and you begin to squirm, discreetly wiggling around. “Do you think I’m blind?” He lifts his gaze, scoffing with a playful glint in his eyes. “Stop trying to roll away from me.” You roll again to face him. “What is there to explain?” He remains straightforward and blunt. “Aren’t you curious about how I became a dog?” You decide to go the same route too. “No. Frankly, I’m not. I want to leave.” “What don’t you understand? You can’t run from me!” He sighs in frustration. “I literally can smell you from a mile away! I’m still part dog!” Jimin throws off his hat and true to his words, there are black pointed ears on the top of his head. You stare at them for an extended moment before your pupils flicker down to meet his half-lidded eyes. “Okay, I’ll admit I’m a bit curious.” The corner of his mouth tugs. It makes you unsettled at how handsome he is, like the perfect exterior is a trap for the trouble-making interior. “I was turned into a dog about a year ago. Some witches hexed me or voodooed me or some shit. I just woke up one morning and I was a dog.” “Why would they do something like that?” You feel like a worm, struggling pathetically on the floor until you manage to sit yourself up, leaning against the dirty wall. “I...I may or may not have had relations with a few witches…” He pauses, running a hand through his hair, between his ears, slicking it back. “At the same time.” “Oh.” “Yeah. Oh.” He chuckles lifelessly. “They must’ve found out, got pissed, and turned me into this.” It makes sense. If he’s as flirtatious as he says he is and he had multiple affairs then it’s kind of ironic that they turned him into what he was: a dog. Even if it’s outlandish, you believe him. Some witches weren’t to be messed with and their rage was to be feared — your cousins proved that sentiment. “That…..really sucks.” “Yup. I ended up in a hundred of places — wandering from town to town, a circus, a pound, a pet shop….until I was put into a familiar adoption center.” You connect the pieces. “Where I found you.” Jimin nods. “I overheard that you were supposed to run a potion shop and your grandma once turned a wizard from a bird back to his human form. I thought you could cure me.” You grimace. “That was my grandma. Not me.” He scoffs. “Obviously.” It hurts to be insulted and tears are brought to your eyes, but you force them away, pouting at him instead. “Okay. I get it and that sounds horrible, but can you let me go now?” You struggle against your invisible restraints, still feeling like you’ve been rolled up in a blanket. Jimin quirks his head to the side. “Do you really think I don’t know you, Y/N? We’ve spent every single day together for the past three months. The moment I let you free, you’re going to run for it. Again.” You huff out, annoyed that he’s right. You might or might not have a habit of running away when there’s trouble on the horizon. It’s not your fault you’re a class A coward — it’s just who you are. “Then what do you want from me?” “I want you to get rid of this.” He points to his ears. He’s still a half-dog, half-human. You wonder if he has a tail. “Fix me.” You fight against your bindings, glaring at the wizard. “Why should I?” The bastard smirks slyly, coming to his feet. Jimin’s arm extends and he grabs the collar of your dress, pulling you up. You freeze up when he leans in close, hot breath skimming against your lips as he lowly whispers, “because I’m still your familiar.” // You’re sulking. How could you not? You’ve been lied to. Your cute puppy is gone. And now the tables have turned — you’re the one following after him like you’re a lovesick dog. You’re trailing behind his shadow, noticing his tall height and how broad his back side is. It’s strange. You can barely wrap your mind around it and you’re overwhelmed. At the bank, Jimin merely says his name and reads out his memorized identification number. Apparently, he’s loaded and two sacks of coins are immediately withdrawn from his account. The bastard smirks at you as he throws and catches the sack in one hand. “Tell me what you need to buy and I’ll pay for it. You don’t need to buy anymore hand-me-downs or worry about finances.” “.......thanks.” Your pouty glare only earns a stupid grin from him. The two of you go on a shopping spree, or rather, Jimin drags you everywhere on his journey. He searches for proper clothes, purchasing cloaks and pajamas, robes and sweaters. He also finds himself a wand, spending a full hour in the store searching for the right one, excruciatingly picky. By afternoon, you’ve sighed hundreds of times. But as you’re standing by a book stand waiting for him, your eyes stray off. They fall onto a brightly covered guide. Dog Training 101 for Dummies. Your pupils immediately flicker upwards to the vendor. “How much is this?” “Three gold coins.” “I’ll take it.” You smile, exchanging the few coins you have for the book and stuffing it in your satchel. “Y/N!” Right on time, Jimin turns around with a blazing smile. At the market booth, he holds up two sweaters for you to see. “Which one do you like better? Blue or red?” You pause, approaching slowly. “Blue.” “I’ll take both,” he says to the lady who wraps it up. Your eyes are lifeless, expression blank. “If you already decided, then why do you bother asking me.” “Because I care about your opinion.” Jimin takes the bag, handing over the right amount of coins and then he passes it to you without a second thought. You feel like a maid, carrying tens of his bags on each of your arms, more or less a servant in his merciless rule. The two of you walk off as you struggle with the weight of his purchases, teetering from side to side. “Where did you get all this money?” The man smirks. “You’re not the only famous one.” There’s an extended silence. Then, Jimin twists on his heel, and his hand lifts. He flicks your forehead, making you whine. “Ow! What was that for?” “I know what you’re thinking,” he deadpans. “Stop reading my mind!” “I’m not, idiot.” The corner of his mouth slyly tugs again. “I can see it on your face. You’re an open book. And no, I’m not famous for sleeping with witches and women or being a casanova; although, I have created a name for myself in that arena.” You can’t even bring your hand up to rub at the spot he flicked. “Then what are you famous for?” “I’m a spell-specialized wizard,” he simply comments and then stops in his tracks, pointing to the left where they’re selling traveling sets of potions at a open stand. “Pick one.” They remind you of first-aid kits. There are basic and advanced sets, each of them carrying different kinds of materials and tools to brew necessary potions on the go. As you sweep your vision across the table, you begin to break a sweat. You swallow hard, palms clammy, skin cold. To cure Jimin of his half-dog state, you need to make a potion. Even if you didn’t want to and decided to run again, the both of you are connected via a familiar and witch bond, making you practically married to each other. And you’re also sure he could track you down with that damn nose of his or with his powers. Either way, you’ve been cornered with zero escape. Jimin’s arm comes to drape over your shoulder, chin propping on it as he leans down, breaking you out of your trance. You jolt, not used to being touched and you tense up. He can probably feel it, but he isn’t deterred. After all, you’ve held him much more intimately before. But you don’t dwell on those thoughts, instead coming to side-glare him. “If you’re a spell-specialized wizard, can’t you fix yourself?” “If I could, I wouldn’t be asking you,” he mutters. “I traveled with you for the past three months and went on my own for a year — there’s nothing on the market that I can buy that will fix me. A customized, antidote potion is the only thing that can cure me.” A bumbling man behind the stand approaches. “How can I help you?” You point to the slim, white box. “I’ll...take the basic kit.” Jimin stands straight, his arm still around your shoulders as he motions to the black kit instead, overriding your decision. “We’ll take the advanced set.” You sigh. Again. Carrying all his bags, Jimin eventually finishes his shopping spree at the markets and boutiques. The pair of you stop for a nice lunch at a cafe. He spends his money lavishly and without much thought, not caring if something is expensive or not. But as luxurious as it is, you are tense the entire time, unable to enjoy yourself. He’s too familiar and comfortable with you while you aren’t. Jimin has his arm hooked around your shoulder, unabashed with his public displays of affection, gaining the envious glances from strangers and sweet smiles of older married couples. It makes you unsettled. “Y’know…” His breath is on your ear, sending a sea of goosebumps all over your arms. “You don’t have to be so afraid of me.” “I’m not.” “You’re stiff. And you can’t even look at me properly.” He sounds almost a bit sad. You steal a glance at him, freezing when you realize his brown rounded eyes have been gazing deeply into your own irises, and you quickly look away. “I’m just not used to it.” “That’s understandable,” he hums lowly, “but you do know I’m still the same as your precious Chimmy, right? Y’know, the one you hugged and slept with, the one you always kiss, the one you love so damn much….” Embarrassment eats at you. Your face burns up at the numerous memories. You’ve changed in front of him, hugged him and pushed him to your chest, slept beside him, kissed him, declared your love for him. God. You want the ground to swallow you whole, but you don’t know what kind of magic you’d use and knowing your abilities, you’d mess up and then you’d be the one to swallow up the ground. “That’s…..different.” “Is it?” “You were a dog then and now…” His brow quirks, having too much fun teasing you to death. “Now I’m a man?” You exhale, throwing his arm off of you. “You lied to me.” “I didn’t. It’s not like I could communicate to you that I wasn’t a damn dog and a wizard instead. If I could, I would’ve. Trust me.” A sigh releases between your parted lips and you stomp away, putting more distance between both your bodies as he laughs. From the outside, it looks like a lover’s spat and it doesn’t help that he yells out after you— “Didn’t you tell me you love me?!” You fully understand why those witches hexed him. // The both of you enter with the innkeeper giving you the stink eye. If she knows Jimin is staying for good, she might bring up your rates. But for now, by the look on her face, you know she thinks he’s just a guest you invited back or...someone you hired for a night of pleasure. The latter assumption horrifies you, so you brush it away. Entering the room, you groan, putting down all the heavy bags. Jimin walks over, falling on the mattress while you take out the portable potion set. There’s an array of ingredients inside the case, a small stone cauldron as well, enough materials for one dosage of whatever you want to make. You stare at the materials in front of you. “Think you can whip something up?” Jimin lays on his side, propping himself up by an arm, head rested in his hand. “Will you leave me alone if I do?” “Yup. This potion is your ticket to freedom.” His words make you feel somber somehow, but you shrug them off, focusing. You examine the ingredients and the tiny beaker they provide. A good place to start is with a basic healing potion. Technically, you’ve already reversed the curse halfway with that other potion. Maybe you could modify it and possibly find a cure. But as you pick up the glass test tube, your hand suddenly begins to tremble. You put it down before it slips and shatters on the ground. An inhale is taken, then an exhale. You swallow hard, pushing down the thick lump in your throat. But it doesn’t help, and the world is beginning to swirl in your vision. You’re dizzy, sick to your stomach, nauseous. You can’t. “Are you going to start?” His brows are lifted as he watches. “What’s taking so long?’ “You don’t understand.” You’re frustrated, not knowing why he’s making you do this. It’s too much pressure. “It’s not so simple. I can’t just cook something up! There’s no recipe for this sort of thing.” “What about your grandma’s?” “She didn’t write anything down! And it’s not like I can go to the graveyard and ask her now!” “Just do what you did last time then!” Jimin is equally frustrated, trying to use his rationale to understand your hysteria. “But make it stronger. You already cured me halfway.” “That’s not how it works. It’s not the same! You obviously don’t know anything about potions.” “You just don’t want to do this, do you?” He sits up, voice threatening. “Want me to stick around longer?” “No! But I just can’t! Stop it.” The pressure and panic has you nearly bursting into tears. “Y/N.” You have a phobia of potions. “I think I’m going to be sick.” “Is this because of what happened?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” The ‘incident’ swirls at the forefront of your mind. The memory you had been trying to suppress for so long comes as fresh as if it occurred yesterday. Jimin is exasperated. “Just get over.” There it is — your limit. You’ve been shoved to the brink. You’re tired of being pushed around by him. “Fuck off!” you scream at the top of your lungs. “Go away!” But Jimin stays in the same spot, wide-eyed, ears perking. You burst into tears, sobbing into your arms, weeping and wailing pathetically on the floor. He is uncomfortable, though he never moves, staring at you and letting you cry your soul out. // After you bawl your eyes out and you’re left in a hiccuping state, he asks if you’re okay. You nod and hold yourself up in the washroom, cleaning yourself up and waiting for your swollen eyes to go down. When you’ve calmed down and regained your sanity, you open the door and he’s...gone. Jimin is nowhere to be found in the tiny bedroom, not in his human form or as a dog. Maybe he’s had enough. Maybe you’ve annoyed him to no end and he’s abandoned you. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or not, but your answer comes when you sniffle, nearly crying again— The door opens. “Oh, hey.” The man has a soft smile, eyes kind, and he lifts up a bag in his hands. “I thought we would eat-in tonight, so I bought food.” You nod in silence and the pair of you settle on the floor again, pulling out the take-out of noodles and eating to your heart's content. You fill your cheeks, tummy feeling warm, and you bask in the peacefulness. But when you look up, you find Jimin gazing at you. He never mentions the incident, potions, or your mental breakdown again. “I’m sorry,” you mutter and Jimin glances at you again. “I didn't mean to swear at you. I love—” You catch yourself, tripping over your own tongue. “You love me,” Jimin finishes with a timid smile. “It’s okay, you can say it. You’ve said it to me many times before.” His head downcasts, concentrating on swirling his fork in his cream pasta. “It’s nice to hear it, you know. I’m used to people swearing at me and telling me they hate my guts.” You scoff before it morphs into a laugh. “Why did you go out with so many witches at once? You can’t really blame them for doing what they did.” “Hey, for the record, just because I see someone once or twice….or three times does not mean we’re an item. It’s their problem for jumping to so many conclusions. I don’t date. I don’t do romance. They should know that. Instead, they assume I’m a cheating, lying douchebag when I go see someone that’s not them.” Your lips smack together. “You’re…” “An asshole,” he finishes and shrugs. “It wouldn’t be the first time I heard that. But what can I say? It’s boring to be tied down to one person. Don’t you get tired being with someone constantly? Could you imagine being tied down? It sounds like a punishment. Shouldn’t we live having fun?” The food is suddenly made unappetizing and you play with it. “I...guess…” “I know our lifestyles don’t match. So all the more reason to quickly make that antidote so we can separate, right?” There’s a pause. “I’m sorry for being an ass when you’re already helping me. And I know why you might be traumatized, so asking you to get over it doesn’t really help. So by all means, take as much time as you need. I can wait patiently.” You nod. “Thanks.” The corners of his mouth tilt, eyes slightly crinkled. “I’m just surprised you’re not sick of me.” “Oh, trust me,” you mutter mid-chew, “I am.” “Then why were you looking for me?” He giggles, adorable laughter bubbling from his chest and unable to stop. As cold as Jimin can look with his sharp features and emotionless expression, when he laughs, his face seems to soften, eyes crinkling and nose wrinkling slightly. “You looked like you were going to cry when I wasn’t here.” “I-no!” “Uh, yes.” The tinkling sound of his laughter fills the room again, triangular ears quirking, and you relish in the company you didn’t know you missed. “You’re cute, you know.” You scoff lightly. Those buttered words won’t work on you. // Night falls faster than anticipated. You brush your teeth, disgusted when he uses your own toothbrush afterwards. But when he takes a much needed shower, finally cleaning himself up and you get the chance to take the book out from your satchel. You rip off the cover, making the front blank so he won’t catch you, and you begin the first chapter on negative and positive reinforcement. You make it away to the entire chapter of the guide before he comes out and you stash the book away. “What’s our sleeping arrangement?” He towels off the light blonde strands of his hair, relishing in the scent of your soap he stole, and he brushes his strands with your hairbrush. Jimin, dressed clad in his cotton pajamas, scoffs at your question. “What do you mean?” “Well…..the bed’s small.” You swallow hard. “I can remove the first sheet and set something up on the floor for you if you want….” “Yeah, right.” He drops the towel on the ground and flops onto the mattress, diving front first and inhaling the covers. It smells like you and he nestles in the blankets, relishing in your scent. He rolls over. “We can share.” ��W-what?” “There’s plenty of room. Come on.” He pats the spot beside him and slyly winks. “I don’t bite….at least, I’ll make sure it feels good.” Your face heats like a furnace and you approach in hesitation, gawking at the tiny space left on the bed. “Can’t you turn back into a dog?” Jimin laughs in your face. “You’re going to have to kill me to make me go back into my dog form. I haven’t slept as a human in over a year.” He stretches out his limbs, moaning as he takes out all the aches and kinks in his bones, more like a cat than a dog. “Then I-I’ll just sleep on the floor.” “Tch.” He clicks his tongue in annoyance. “You don’t listen, do you?” Jimin takes your arm and pulls you forward, grinning at your squeal. You fall onto the bed, head buried in his chest. He snaps his fingers and immediately the light above you dies off, allowing the golden moonlight to pierce through the window. He wraps his legs around yours, arms over your shoulder and waist, cuddling you in a secure hug. He nuzzles happily into your hair and you can’t pull away, bound by his iron grip and strong limbs. “Jimin…” You pout, wiggling around. “Why can’t you just rent another room?” “Don’t wanna,” he answers childishly, all too affectionate. It’s times like these that you’re reminded Jimin is definitely Chimmy — stubborn, pretentious, but also clingy when he feels particularly needy. You remember all those nights when he curled up in your lap and made you pet him incessantly, growling if you stopped. “I like it like this. Plus, you’re cold at night, aren’t you? I can finally keep you warm.” You’re warm alright. Your face is aflame. “They give you the shittiest blanket here,” he mumbles against your hair. “We should file a formal complaint.” You sigh. “Can you at least let me go a bit? I can’t breathe.” “Do you think I’m an idiot?” His voice suddenly drops an octave, rumbling from his chest, threatening. “You’re going to try to run in the middle of the night.” Suddenly, you’re wide awake. Your eyes open. How did he know? It’s like he’s casted a spell and tapped into your mind again, except he hasn’t. “That’s how we ran from your home, didn’t we?” You shift around uncomfortably before melting into his embrace. If you weren’t lying to yourself, then you’d even say you were comfortable in his arms. It was warm and you didn’t have to curl up to conserve heat. You even feel...safe. “I’m not going to run.” “Liar.” Jimin smiles gently and you can feel it on your skin. “But you couldn’t even if you tried. I won’t let you.” You’re his walking antidote, the key to solving his issue. He won’t let you escape so easily when you’re the solution to his predicament. He’s not done with you yet. Jimin’s fingertips come down and the pad of his finger presses against the sensitive spot between your shoulder and neck. “And I know your scent well.” Despite him being in his human form, Jimin still retains dog-like qualities, like his strong sense of smell. Your suspicions are confirmed when he says, “I can smell you from miles away.” Without you knowing, Jimin rubs his nose into your hair, making you smell like him, fulfilling an urge he has deep within. You squirm, feeling ticklish from his tender touches. “You’re annoying.” “So are you.” He smiles. Eventually, soft breaths emit from his parted lips, exhausted from the entire day. You crane your neck, trying to look up and see if he’s fallen asleep. But then Jimin tightens his grip on you, hugging you like you’re his comfort toy, and he sleepily murmurs, “don’t go.” Maybe he’s dreaming, delirious between the boundary of consciousness and slumber, but you hear every word of his loud and clear. “We’re a team, aren’t we?” Your frown eases. That’s right. You and him. It doesn’t matter if he’s a dog or a wizard. It certainly doesn’t change the fact that you’ve spent the last three months together and that you love him dearly. You’ve made an oath to protect him as his witch. … .. In the middle of the night, Jimin’s grip on you loosens. He rolls over and you’re released from his binding arms and iron grip. But your feet never touch the ground. You don’t grab your satchel, slipping from the room and taking flight with your broomstick far away where he would only be able to take in the lingering scent of your perfume, never strong enough to know where you are. You don’t go. Instead, your arm extends and you touch his soft ears. They’re fluffy, velvet to the touch. As you rub, feeling the outline of the triangular shape, he leans into your hand. Jimin doesn’t wake up, unconsciously coming closer and relishing in your affections. You choose to stay. // It becomes less and less hard to admit that his company is pleasant and enjoyable. You’re not talking to yourself anymore. Your companion has merely transformed into a large being that you can interact with on a higher level, hold conversations, banter back and forth. It’s nice. But sometimes, you wish he would just turn back into a dog. All Jimin does is complain, complain, and complain. If he’s not complaining, then he’s whining and annoying you to death. He’s dragging down your own morale, less of a wizard or a pet, more like a black raining cloud constantly over your head. “Why do we have to deliver these dumb packages?” he knocks his head back, moaning tiredly to the sky. “I already told you I have more than enough money to support the both of us.” “And what happens when you’re gone?” You’re struggling with the heavy weight of the package and he never once reaches out to help. “Where will I get my money then? I have to be responsible and save up.” “I’ll give you a handsome payment if you can cure me,” he says curtly with a lifted brow. “Did you really think you would fix me for free? I’m not that much of a cheapskate.” “Uh-huh.” His hands are in his trouser pockets, dark robes adorned on his body, luxurious from head to toe. He’s always wearing a hat on his head, hiding his unusual ears from the rest of the world. “You should use a levitation spell so you don’t have to carry that.” “No.” You sigh. “I’m just going to do it how I’ve always been doing it.” Or more like you have zero confidence in spell-casting and you don’t want him to show off with his own abilities. It already irritates you enough that he’s arrogantly strolling around like he owns the entire place. “I always thought this job is stupid. Your plant was even more stupid,” he mutters and you purse your lips, anger being poked at with the reminder of your poor tickly-wickly plant. “Can I just go sit somewhere and we can meet up later?”

“No. You’re going to accompany me,” you respond in a firm voice. “It’s what a familiar should do.” Jimin groans and rolls his eyes to the back of his skull. “But I’m not a dog!” You ignore him, entering the greenhouse to deliver the package in your arms. Greeting the familiar lady, she asks about the tickly-wickly and you disheartenedly brush off by saying that plants weren’t for you. Discreetly, she asks if Jimin is your boyfriend and you tell her no, that you’re just babysitting. It confuses her, but it isn’t far from the truth either. “Why are you walking so slow?” You turn around, feeling even more tired with having to drag him everywhere and convince him it's worthwhile. Jimin is kicking the rocks, obviously sulking with his bottom lips slightly jutted out, reminiscent of a puppy not wanting to go to the vet. “I don’t want to keep going. This is fucking dumb. I have better things to do.” You grit your teeth, but take a deep breath to compose yourself. This morning, you knocked out another chapter from the training guide. It’s time to put the things you’ve learnt into action. This time, you stand your ground, unyielding, and you open up your palm. “Jimin. Hand.” “What?” “Jimin,” you repeat. “Hand.” He approaches and with a sly smirk, pretends to spit in your palm. The bastard grins, but you’re unimpressed with his mischievous antics. “Bad. That’s bad. Give me your hand.” He glares. You glare. It’s a fight for dominance. Your stares and locked eyes nearly spark with electricity, both your magic abilities releasing into the air and in between each other. It’s a full ten seconds with held breaths and thundering heartbeats before Jimin reluctantly lifts his arm, putting his hand in yours. You also know he’s following your instructions from curiosity and not obedience. But it’s still a win for you. Immediately, a smile spreads into your features and you tilt your head to the side, actively expressing your happiness with his behaviour. “Good. I don’t want you to fall behind, m'kay?” You hold his hand that fits perfectly in yours, bringing him along. His skin is softer than expected and you relish in his warmth. Jimin is pouty, but much quieter than before. “It's not like I would get lost…..” For the next little while, you train him. You finish reading the entire book, addicted to the words and pages, soaking up all the information. Though it’s much more difficult to implement the techniques in real life than to simply read about it. At first, Jimin fully revolts. He’s a stubborn bastard who refuses to listen to anyone, but you make sure to keep calm and he seems to feed on your praise and compliments. Slowly, but surely, he becomes obedient, even if he still whines and complains occasionally. “Sit. Sit here and don’t move, okay?” “Where are you going?” He looks down at you with big eyes, blinking a few times. You swallow hard, maintaining a stern expression. “Just sit and stay.” Unknowingly, Jimin follows your will, taking a seat on the wooden bench. He’s confused, though it’s a good start to teaching him a new command. “You’re not leaving, right?” “No. Just stay.” You begin to back away, carefully and cautiously. “Good, good.” When the time is right, you turn around to walk into the grocery store. You stride down the aisle, quickly finding what you’re looking for. In the next minute, you’re slapping a yellow pack onto the counter, making your purchase. To your pleasant surprise, Jimin is still on the bench when you walk out. His hands are in his lap, looking around curiously at the butterflies and birds, as well as other magic folks that pass by. He’s cute….and you realize, still very much like a dog, despite being in a human form. But if he knew you were training him, he would probably spit and piss on you. There’s no doubt about it. “You’re back!” Jimin grins when you get closer, face lighting up before he catches himself and tries to play it off as nothing. “I was getting bored, that’s all.” “Thank you for staying.” You make sure to praise him, smiling widely and in approval. “I had to go to the store to buy some stuff.” “What?” He’s interested and you catch his hat shifting slightly, ears perking beneath. “Just some candy I used to have as a kid.” The plastic package rustles in your hand and you open it. “I was craving it. Want some?” “Sure.” The wrapping is clear, ends twisted off and making it look like traditional candy. You can see the soft pink hue of the jelly. Your mouth waters, remembering the gummy texture and sweet flavour, but it’s not for you to eat — you bought it for a reason. You hand it to him and he pops it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. His brows lift and he hums. “It’s good!” “I know.” You grin, extending your palm forward. “Hand.” “Where are we going now?” Jimin puts his hand in yours without thinking twice and you give him another candy. He smiles and throws it into his mouth. “You’ll see.” You’re discreet enough that he doesn’t really catch on. With Jimin listening to you, life becomes a lot easier. His presence is a lot more bearable and he’s not wildly pulling you along or making you surrender into his crazy antics. Mr. Lee becomes well acquainted with Jimin as well. He asks where your familiar is, the one you adore so much, and you merely say he’s running an errand. But as a whole, things seem to be running smoothly… Except, another wrench is thrown in your life when Mr. Lee gives you your last paycheck. “Did….did I do a bad job, sir? Is there a reason why—” “Oh, no, no.” He waves you off, absurd at the idea. “You are one of the best messengers I’ve ever had. It’s just that I’m going on vacation with my wife. We decided on that place I was talking about last week. It was spontaneous, but I finally bought the tickets yesterday evening.” A sigh of relief leaves your lungs. “I thought you were firing me.” “No, no. I would never. I just thought it was time to treat myself and my wife. As they say, happy wife, happy life.” The old man looks at Jimin with twinkling eyes. “Right?” “Uh….sure..” he responds with an awkward smile; the two of you are unsure of what he’s implying. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to tell you sooner.” “It’s quite alright.” You ease him with a smile. “I hope you have lots of fun.” “I will.” He nods. “My wife’s so excited that she’s already packed. We’ll probably be back in a month. We’re thinking of visiting family on the way home since we’ll be nearby. Will you be okay?” “Don’t worry about me.” You rock from your heel to your toes. “I always do well no matter what happens.” “That’s the spirit!” Except it’s a complete lie. You can already feel Jimin’s piercing gaze on your backside. The pressure on your shoulders. The strain in the air. It makes it hard to breathe and you’re tempted to run off, but he would be able to catch you without blinking. To Jimin, you are a prey and he is the predator. Now that you’re jobless, there’s truly nothing for you to do. There are no more excuses. Of course, he wouldn’t care even if you were fully employed. Understandably, to Jimin, his predicament is the most urgent matter. “Y/N….Y/N….” He calls you insistently and you halt, spinning around. “What is it?” He continues walking and you match his slow pace. “I know I told you to take your time….” he begins, hesitant, but patience run thin. “And?” “And at this rate, I think it’s going to take years.” Jimin decides to lay it on straight, blunt in his words, and you look at each other. “You love running away from your issues and problems.” “I do not.” He ignores your weak defense. “When are you planning to make an antidote?” You don’t answer. “Do you even have any plans? If...if it’s too difficult, why don’t we enlist more help? You made a potion before with that boy a few weeks ago. But do you even know where to begin?” You continue walking, looking straight ahead. Jimin gets ticked off at your lack of responses and raises his voice, quickening his walking pace. “It’s not like your first experiment will work on me. This will take time, so why don’t we start now? How long do you plan on waiting? How long do you want me to be like this?” “I don’t know,” you spit out in annoyance before commanding him, “be quiet.” Jimin scoffs, being blatantly disobedient. “No. I’m asking you something and you’re not answering me. How long do you want this to go on?” “I don’t know!” you repeat in frustration. His expectations are burdensome and you hate that he’s relying on you. Deep down you have zero faith that you can restore him to his fully human state and you feel suffocated by his confidence in you. “Will you please stop pressuring me?!” “I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so wishy-washy and indecisive! Do you really think you can accomplish anything by sitting around? Do you think you can be anyone great if you keep procrastinating?! You’ve done nothing! You’ve been going from place to place trying to search for what magic suits you when news flash, Y/N, you’re a potions-specialized witch whether you like it or not!” “I’m helping you out of the goodness of my own heart, okay? I don’t appreciate this tone!” You stomp your foot indignantly. “Stop demanding things from me!” Jimin scoffs, arms crossed and completely unsympathetic to you. “What a joke. You’re not helping me out of the ‘goodness of your heart’. You have to help me — I’m your familiar.” “You’re right.” The two of you finally stop in your tracks, in the middle of the street bickering to one another. “You’re my familiar, so you have to obey me.” His eyes narrow. “I’m not your servant.” “Turn back into a dog,” you yell. “I liked you better that way!” “You can’t make me.” The man’s teeth grits down, jaw clenching. “I can. I am your witch and I demand you turn back into your dog state.” The words are spoken into the world. Within three seconds, there’s a yellow poof. A cloud has appeared, mist thick and causing you to cough. You wave it away, watching the shadow shifting into a smaller frame. When the smoke dissipates, you look down and it’s the dog that you know and love. He’s cute and adorable, darker ears with its hue fading off into the golden and fluffy coat, except now you know who he truly is inside. He barks and howls, wailing a million gripes and whining with a high-pitched voice. You glare into his rounded eyes. “I absolutely will never. ever. do potions again, do you understand me?” You don’t want to die. You don’t want him to die either. Jimin continues to whine and complain, howling and shrieking at the top of his lungs like there’s a full moon up in the sky. It occurs to you that he can’t turn back into a human if you’ve commanded him to stay like this — if he could, he’d probably slap you and bring you back to your senses. But you’re tired from all this arguing, exhausted from his disobedience and chaoticness. Maybe you should’ve run when you had the chance… “You should go find someone else,” you tell him in a softer and gentler voice, squatting down to lock your eyes with his. You’ve long given up on yourself. He should too. “Someone who can actually help you. Not me. Don’t put so much of your trust in me. I don’t deserve it. I can’t help you. You and I both know how bad I am at magic. I’m terrible at magic.” He howls and barks again, even yelping this time. But you can’t understand him. “I’m sorry.” You rise to your feet, turning around and walking away. Jimin must’ve changed tactics because instead of those horrific howls like he’s screaming at you, now he’s pitifully whimpering. But you shut your eyes, trying your best to ignore it all. One day you’ll see him again — you’ll run into each other and he’ll be all healed up and maybe you could even be good friends. For now, you leave him behind. But then you begin to hear paws padding on the ground, clumsy steps taken, stubby legs struggling to keep up with your hasty strides. Jimin barks, catching up to your side. “Go away.” He growls, barks, whimpers, as if pleading for you to stop. Jimin goes as far as biting at your shoe, allowing himself to be dragged three steps before you stop and withdraw harshly. He yelps despite you not causing injury to him, but it still sends guilt straight through your chest. “I-I told you to go away!” It doesn’t matter that he’s your familiar and that you’re bonded together. He still has the ability to leave. As painful as this is, it just has to be done. No matter how much it hurts you, it’s better to be alone. That way, you only disappoint yourself in the end. “Ummm….excuse me, Miss.” There’s a tap on your shoulder and you shift. “Yes?” “Is that your puppy?” The stranger points across the dirt street and there he is — sitting obediently, staring at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes ever. His brown irises glimmering, stars practically inside his orbs, and he looks like he’s about to cry. Jimin has his tail and ears down, having been following you quietly for an hour. “I think he’s waiting for you.” “H-he’s not mine.” “Really?” The female frowns and glances at the dog. “Poor puppy. Maybe I should bring him to a shelter.” “N-no…..I...I can.” You walk away again and the girl doesn’t say anything as Jimin follows you. But this time, you pace slower, glancing over your shoulder. Jimin has his head downcasted, sad and apologetic. It makes your chest ache. A thousand flashbacks begin playing in your mind of all your adventures together, your wild journey thus far. It was a bad idea to turn him back into a dog. You’re weak for all animals. “Mommy, mommy, look!” A small boy, no more than four-years old lets go of his parent’s hand. “It’s a doggy!” “Yes, it is.” He looks up at his mom. “Can I pet it?” “You should ask the owner first, sweetheart. We don’t know whose dog that is.” The child turns his head towards you, the closest person to the small animal. “Is this your doggy?” “Ummm…..ummmm….” You’re not sure how to answer, but the kid is waiting expectantly and you end up smiling meekly. “You can pet him.” The mother nods thankfully at you and keeps an eye on him while continuing her conversation with her friend. The boy hops off the sidewalk, going towards him and patting him on the head with vigor, but not hard enough to hurt. Jimin allows himself to be pet, though his ears and tail are still down. His eyes are flickered up to you as if to get your approval. “What’s his name?” “Chi-...Jimin….his name is Jimin.” “Jimin!” The boy giggles and then moves onto lightly scratching the top of his head. “Is he your familiar or a normal dog? My mommy has a cat at home, but it’s her familiar. He’s super smart!” “Jimin….is a normal dog.” You smirk, lowering yourself down like the kid. “He’s an annoying mutt. Do you want him?” He blinks and pouts. “I don’t think mommy will let me.” “Yeah.” You sigh, elbow propped on your knee and chin rested in your palm. “He’s a handful too. I don’t think anyone can handle him.” “He’s a good boy!” The four-year old grins and continues to pat Jimin. You hum, a slight smile slipping on your lips before you sigh wistfully. It seems as though you’ve finally found someone more stubborn and unyielding than you are. He’s defeated you yet again. You allow Jimin to walk alongside you silently. He doesn’t make a sound either. The innkeeper glares when you enter and brush past, but you’re not affected anymore. It’s like that’s her own way of greeting you. You enter the room and shut the door. “Change back.” The world hears the command spoken and he transforms into his human form. You’re forced to look away when the light is blinding. He takes shape, growing taller and leaner, fur becoming skin, though his ears morph into a triangular shape, staying stuck to the top of his skull. The tips of your fingers are tingling. To a certain extent, witches can tell their familiars what to do and make requests, but the responsibility of that power makes you uncomfortable. It’s awfully burdensome. Jimin lolls his head to the side, wearing an unimpressed expression. His tongue rolls inside his cheek, half-lidded eyes staring into yours. He runs a hand through the blonde strands of his hair, pushing it away from his brows. “Were you really going to abandon me in that form?” “No…..” Your voice is small. “I’m sorry.” “I’m not leaving you,” he reiterates firmly. “And I’m not letting you leave either.” “Why?” Your question is left unanswered and maybe because he doesn’t know himself why he’s so adamant about this. It would certainly be simpler to leave you and seek help elsewhere. Though Jimin doesn’t exactly care for being logical at the moment. “Look, what you did back then wasn’t your fault.” Immediately, you know what he’s alluding to and your blood runs cold. You turn around like a petulant child, vision diverted elsewhere, arms crossed in defense. “I don’t want to talk about it.” “Well, too bad. I’m not letting you run away. This stupid ‘incident’ or at least that’s what you like to refer it to — it wasn’t your fault.” “Yes, it is!” you shout and as much as you hate arguing, Jimin keeps pushing you. “I almost killed us!” “But you didn’t!” He tries to reason, “You got me out there before the whole place burnt down.” “Barely!” You slump to the ground, wanting to curl up and hide away. “What kind of witch blows up their entire house?!” “It was just a failed experiment.” “It was a basic recipe I was following,” you correct with a groan, holding your head in your hands and tempted to cover up your ears and obnoxiously sing to drown him out. “But I couldn’t even do that. And….and the next day, I was supposed to do the grand opening of the store and pretend nothing happened?! I would’ve ruined my family’s name! God, my cousins were right. My entire family was right.” The night before the opening of the store, you burnt down your entire house to the ground in an experiment. You barely got out there alive with Jimin in your arms. Someone would’ve thought that a stranger had a vengeance and torched your house, not that you did it yourself on accident. When you close your eyes, you can still see the searing flames from that night, the green fumes leaving your chimney, the way your precious cottage exploded in front of you. Your house became a bonfire. And then you ran away in humiliation. You’re an idiot. Dumb. Bad at magic. “No, they’re not,” Jimin expresses in frustration, closing the proximity between your bodies. “You’re a brilliant witch.” “Stop saying that so you can get me to make you an antidote!” “I’m not just saying it for that! I mean it!” “Well, I can’t help you!” The decision is final. You’re not changing your mind. “No matter what you say — I can’t and I won’t.” There is silence and a muscle in his cheek twitches at how much of a brat you are. For good measure, you add on, “so you should go find another way instead of waiting for me since it’s never going to happen.” “Fine.” “Fine!” “But I won’t leave without getting our bond removed.” Jimin points to the ground, stubborn and as childish as you are. He’s annoyed to no end and is one minute away from strangling you. “I don’t want to be connected to you in any way.” Your bottom lip is trembling, but you stand your ground as well. “Fine by me! I would rather have no familiar than a familiar like you!” “Perfect then!” Not only are you a terrible witch who’s bad at magic, you’re a coward — a coward who lies and is too afraid of facing the truth. // The pair of you march up to city hall as if you’re about to lead a protest and overthrow the government. There’s conviction in your steps, strides firm, eyes set forward and fists clenched together. Behind you, Jimin follows at a distance. And in reality, you’re both less like leaders of the new world and more like an old couple tired of each other’s shit and filing for divorce. “Hi.” The lady behind the booth slowly lifts her head, but her eyes are still glued onto her computer screen. It seems to take an eternity before she slowly peels her eyeballs away from the damn monitor to lazily look up at you. There are purple bags under the witch’s eyes, undeniably tired. “How can I help you?” Your jaw is clenched and your jutted finger pokes at the granite counter. “I’d like to break ties with my familiar.” “Identification, please.” You dig into your pockets, luckily finding the rectangular card and you slide it over in the small hole between the counter and glass wall. The female witch looks on both sides of the card and types your number into the system. She clicks and then pauses and then clicks again. It takes a full minute of you standing there, awkwardly. The woman finally hums, pulling up Chimmy’s profile and the past paperwork filled out. “Where’s your familiar now?” “He….He’s behind me.” The witch rolls to the side with her swivel chair, looking over your body and tilting her head. A frown mars her blank expression. Jimin smiles and lifts his hand. “Hi.” She glances back at you, too exhausted to be outright shocked. “How is your familiar a human?” “I’m actually a wizard,” Jimin adds on, but no one particularly cares. You don’t know how to clarify this bizarre situation. If only she knew you were as baffled as she was. “It’s…….complicated.” “Al-...right….then….I’ll admit, this is my first.” She quirks her head to the side, not smiling or laughing when you reply with ‘me too’. The woman behind the booth types on her keyboard, clicking a few more times as if she was merely messaging her husband what’s for dinner. “It’s quite a feat. Bonds are difficult to create….” And even more difficult to break. You know the saying and it makes you all the more unsettled. The woman’s fingers continue to flurry over the keys and then she stops. You blink twice, waiting patiently before she turns her monitor towards you and Jimin. The both of you crowd next to each other, cheeks nearly squished together, eyes wide, staring. “I’m sorry, I can’t dissolve your relationship.” “What?” “Why not?” The administration witch exhales in tiredness and slumps forward. She clicks something and pulls up a line graph, showing you certain dips and rises with the back of her pen. It’s complicated, hundreds of numbers and lines filling the screen, intersecting each other and colour coded, reminding you of paperwork for filling out your taxes or graphs on the stock market. It makes your eyes and brain hurt. “As you can see, your relationship has never dipped below the line to break your bond. The lower the graph dips, the more successful the ritual of breaking your ties would be. But the trends in your relationship has remained relatively constant. In order to get rid of the familiar and witch link, there has to be a large enough emotional disruption.” “There is a large emotional disruption!” Your hands are open, showing the figure beside you. “He’s a human!” She sits back, shrugging. “Well, looks like it wasn’t a large enough disruption.” You’re baffled, but also aware this isn’t just some dumb government regulation or law that witches and wizards created. It’s always been like this since the dawn of time, part of the natural world. The graph merely shows the facts, but it doesn’t make it any less ridiculous. Jimin steps in, concerned. “How does the system know? What if it’s wrong?” “It isn’t. Our magic analyzes all bonds and magical links the moment you step into a government building. It’s a pretty advanced system that automatically updates. Impressive, huh?” You and Jimin look at each other, exchanging expressions of distress and dismay. A staggering exhale leaves the seams of your lips and you shift back towards the lady. “Is….is there really no way for us to separate?” “A witch and familiar tie is difficult to establish. Both parties must be intrinsically compatible, complimenting each other’s strengths and making up for one another’s weaknesses. They have to both agree and go through the proper procedures too.” She explains it to you like you’re a child who should’ve learnt this a long time ago, but you already know all of this. The woman is rubbing salt all over your wounds. “Breaking the tie is even more difficult. You can’t sever them so easily unless there is cause for it, deep enough that your bond has pretty much dissolved on its own.” She glances at your graph and spins her monitor back around. “Now you can go try to get it professionally removed anyhow and go through the ritual, but the likelihood of it being successful is extremely low. It probably wouldn’t work in this case. Actually, your relationship is better than normal, I’d say.” She looks at you one last time. “Come back when it’s worse.” When you leave, your mind is boggled. You’re having an out-of-body experience without using advanced magic. It seems like your muscles are moving and your brain is delayed. What just happened? “I don’t know.” Jimin sighs and you realize you said it aloud. You turn on your feet once you get down the city hall steps and you stare straight into Jimin’s warm brown irises. “Slap me.” “What?” The wizard-familiar is appalled, jaw becoming slack. “No!” “We need a large emotional disruption, right? So, slap me!” You lean forward, putting your face out for him and even tipping to show him your cheek. “C’mon, Chim, I know you wanna slap me hard! You feel annoyed by my existence, right? Hit me! Hit me hard! I want it! Smack me, you dirty dog!” He glances around, for once being the one to feel embarrassed. There are horrified expressions from strangers passing by. You wince when his arms raise, but instead of striking you across the face, there’s a gentle touch on your shoulders. Jimin lightly pushes you away. “Stop. I’m not going to hit you, Y/N. I’m not a monster.” “But you have my full permission!” You huff out, unknowingly pouting at him. Though after a second, you collect your senses again. “No, I get it. You don’t want to get your hands dirty, so use your magic on me! No. Wait. I have an even better idea! Let’s duel!” “What?” He’s distraught over your absurdity, wrinkles between his brows probably creasing permanently. “I’m not going to duel you! You don’t even know how to do a proper levitation spell!” “Exactly!” Dueling with Jimin would pretty much be the equivalent of getting stabbed with a blunt knife. But if it’ll break your bond, you’ll do it. If it’s what he wants, you’ll do it. “Just duel me and win. Hurt me — not enough for me to die, but enough to send me to the hospital! We’ll be all good! I won’t hold it against you, promise!” “I’m not going to do that,” Jimin deadpans, tired of you and your suggestions, and walking away, unable to handle the ridiculousness. You’re frustrated, screaming after him, “Then what are we supposed to do?!” “You could go back to the cauldron!” He turns on his heel, shouting back at you. At once, your blood runs cold, expression falling. Jimin sighs again and his hand itches to run a hand through the blonde strands of his hair. But he remembers that he’s wearing a hat, that he has ears. So instead, he pinches the bridge of his nose, and then approaches closer. His plump lips are parted, apologies tumbling off from his tongue. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” A murmur leaves your throat, “You did.” “Come with me,” Jimin whispers and you lift your head, locking your gaze with his. “I think...I know one of the people who might’ve cursed me. If we find her, then maybe we can release my curse somehow and our bond will naturally dissolve after that.” He stares at you, eyes kinder than before, even endeared. “I promise I won’t pressure you anymore.” Pathetically enough, there’s no beat of hesitation in your answer. “Okay.”

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jimin fanfic #jimin fluff #jimin scenario #LET'S GOO #BTS JIMIN AS A DOG.#OC...as a hot mess.

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yangssunglasses · 5 years

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SSM Day 1 Prompt: Far From Home

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Into the Jungle

This was Sakura’s first solo mission outside of the village. A training mission, the young kunoichi reminded herself firmly as she slowly picked her way through the dense tropical foliage, careful not to trip over gnarled roots. Her sandaled feet were sinking into the muddy ground, giving her a disgusting slimy feeling between her toes. Sakura clenched her jaw in determination, trying not to think of all kinds of worms that lived in this muck and were probably touching her skin right now.

She had researched the conditions in this terrain before the mission, but nothing could have prepared her for the oppressive, wet heat of the southern jungle. Sakura was bathing in her own sweat but no amount of toweling could make her dry in this muggy atmosphere. Even breathing was harder because of the moisture in the air. And the smells! At least Sakura wasn’t overly reliant on her nose to find the way. She imagined even Kakashi-sensei would have gotten a headache from the hundreds of various smells mixing together in a confusing cacophony. Intense flower fragrances were only overpowered by the all-present scent of rot and decay, which both only partially hid the more subtle animal musks. She almost wished for a gas mask like those worn by Rain ninja.

Sakura stumbled along the path that wasn’t really a path, not one made by humans by any means. She would have preferred to jump on the trees like she was used to doing back home, but here it would have been nigh impossible with all the tangled, slippery and unstable branches forming a dense labyrinth of a canopy. She was better off on the ground, closer to the goal of her mission.

Shishou, why? Sakura sighed and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. She wearily adjusted the shoulder straps of her backpack that were biting into her skin. She’d been trekking through the jungle for five days already and her exhaustion had been steadily building up in that time. In preparation for the Sand chunin exams, Tsunade sent her alone to gather a certain type of mushroom that only grew in this specific rainforest. The chance to encounter enemy ninja was extremely low, wild beasts and poisonous plants on the other hand… Obviously, Sakura was expected to deal with any danger she would face like a well-rounded, self-reliant chunin. Still, it would’ve been useful to have someone to watch her back. On top of that, she planned to make use of this occasion to bring back some exotic toxins for her own personal study. As a result, she didn’t get much sleep at night and her backpack was bursting with specimens collected on her way.

A suspicious rustle coming from the bushes put her on alert. In a blink of an eye, Sakura whipped out a kunai and scanned her surroundings for the threat, heart in her throat as she strained to sense anything or anyone approaching her position. When a small critter skulked out and quickly ran through the open space to its next hiding spot, Sakura’s shoulders slumped in relief. She turned away to continue her march, a kunai in hand.

Cutting the lianas and foliage in her way, Sakura came into a bit of an open space. A marsh area stretched wide before her. Sakura looked suspiciously at the dark surface, rotted logs and algae drifting in the still water between clumps of high grass. Then she gave out an excited gasp when she spotted a strip of land in the middle, positively brimming with the mushrooms she was looking for!

With a burst of speed, she rushed across the murky water for the small island, not caring about the splashes. She squatted to inspect the mushrooms closer, then grinned. They were perfect!

Sakura worked quickly, cutting the stems of mushrooms so they could grow back and sealing them in a special storage scroll. She straightened up and stretched languidly in satisfaction. With her main objective reached, she could finally go home. She hefted the backpack on her shoulders again and turned around—

Only to face a gaping maw filled with rows of sharp teeth.

Sakura did something which for a ninja was an unforgivable mistake—for a split second, she froze. It was completely involuntary, an instinctual reaction that could not be purged with any amount of training. The animal part of her brain took over, choosing to stay still as she stared into the jaws of death in total shock, unable to react. And no matter how little time it took for her reflexes to kick in, it was still going to be too late and she knew it.

In a flash of blinding speed, something violently pushed her back. Sakura fell, hitting her head hard, but the boggy soil somewhat softened the impact. Blinking through dark spots flying in front of her eyes, she registered electric blue flashing lights, followed by a pained roar and a smell of smoke and burned flesh. She scrambled up on her knees to see what had happened. She was certain someone had just used a lightning jutsu.

What she saw took her breath away. There was a man standing tall over the fallen beast’s carcass, breathing hard, a bloodied spear clutched in his hand. His hair was black, wet and wildly tangled, his body dark with what looked like mud and possibly paint (for camouflage, the analytic part of her brain supplied). Her gaze wandered lower and she couldn’t help blushing when it hit her that he was wearing only a loincloth.

Then he looked at her and she stopped breathing for a moment. Even though he was wearing a mask, she got an impression that he was checking up on her too from the way his stance relaxed after a few seconds.

Before she could gather her thoughts, her mysterious savior turned to already leave. Sakura gasped loudly. Red was dripping from his other arm down his elbow. “Wait! You’re hurt!” she called out to him.

Sakura pushed herself to her feet and fought through the wave of dizziness. She suspected she might have a mild concussion. She groaned, cradling her head and walked to him, spending more concentration than usual on the simple task of channeling chakra to her feet so she wouldn’t sink in the bog.

“Wait,” she repeated, softer than before. “I’m a medic-nin, I can heal your injury. You don’t want an infection to get in. Let me repay you for saving me.” She gave him an imploring look.

The man—no, the boy, she noticed, as he wasn’t much taller than her and he seemed younger than what she initially thought, maybe around her age—stilled in consideration, then gave a small nod. Sakura smiled in relief.

“Okay. Okay,” she said, gathering her sluggish thoughts. “First, let’s get to the stable land. Do you know any safe place to camp nearby?”

The boy nodded again and headed off, but after a few moments he doubled back when he noticed her lagging behind in disorientation. He took her gently by the arm and Sakura thankfully leaned on him. She didn’t even bother to watch where they were going, trusting that he’d get her there. If the ease with which she came to depend on him seemed a little strange her, she didn’t think much of it.

Finally, they made their way to a secluded spot at the foot of an ancient tree. It was easily defensible, with the wide, solid trunk behind their backs, rocks to the left and thick bushes to the right. No more chance for the wild beasts getting a drop on one of them.

“Thanks,” Sakura told the boy as she put her weight against the tree. She shrugged off the heavy overflowing pack from her shoulders. It landed with a thud on the ground beside her. She pulled out her medkit and water canteen before looking at him. “Come here,” she said softly.

Warily, he approached her. “Don’t worry, I’ll just clean and bandage your wound,” she reassured him with an easy smile. “Please, sit.” She patted the even spot next to her.

He stuck his spear upright into the ground, then kneeled at her side. Their thighs brushed and he abruptly straightened up, breaking the skin contact. Still tense, his hand curled around the weapon, as if he was not ready to let it go.

To break the awkward pause, Sakura coughed. “Um, your arm? Please.”

Very gently, she put her hand on his and pried it off the spear. He didn’t fight her. Sakura held his arm with her left hand and poured water from her canteen over the injury, cleaning it. The gash wasn’t very deep, but it was long, bisecting his upper arm from the shoulder almost to the elbow.

“Alright,” Sakura muttered, feeling around the wound. “Do you feel any unusual pain?”

In response, she got a headshake.

She pulled a roll of bandages out of the medkit. “I’ll wrap it for now,” she explained. “I’d stitch it up for you, but it’s not necessary.”

The smooth wooden mask tilted questioningly.

“I’m sorry, but my concussion will mess up medical ninjutsu. I need to rest for a bit and when I’m better, I’ll heal it completely for you. Can you hang on that long?”

The boy inclined his head in affirmative and she rewarded him with a smile. “Pinch me if I start nodding off, okay? I need to stay awake for a few hours.”

She wrapped his arm quickly and professionally, then let it go. They settled side by side against the tree, Sakura with her knees drawn up to her chin, the masked boy cross-legged.

“By the way, my name is Sakura. Can you tell me yours?” she asked in a friendly tone.

He gave her a piercing look through the mask and she sighed. “I guess no,” she mumbled dejectedly. “You’re not much of a talker, are you? Trying to stay silent and mysterious, is that right?”

Even though she couldn’t see his expression, he radiated amusement.

She huffed. “Very well, be this way. I’ll go first and tell you a bit about myself. You’re probably just dying to know what I’m doing in this jungle, aren’t you?” she said with a self-deprecating snark.

Against her expectations, the boy propped his cheek on his hand and leaned towards her in a listening posture. Sakura’s expression lit up.

“Okay, so it all started when my shishou ran out of sake…” she began telling her story animatedly.

The masked stranger looked down at the girl he had rescued. The night had finally fallen and she had gone to sleep, deeming enough time had passed since she had hit her head. Her head was now resting on his thigh where he had gently moved it after noticing how uncomfortable she was, sleeping on the ground.

He had started a campfire before it had gotten too dark but he didn’t trust the flames to scare away all of the night’s predators. So he kept a silent vigil over the girl—just like he had done every night for the last week.

Unbeknownst to Sakura, her mysterious savior wasn’t really a stranger to her. And when he was sure she was fast asleep, he finally took off the cumbersome wooden mask.

When Aoda had informed him of an intruder entering his territory, Uchiha Sasuke had found himself in a predicament he never would have foreseen. Had it been anyone else, he’d have dealt with them with no mercy or hesitation, but Sakura was a complication he couldn’t get rid of with his usual methods.

Tsk, excuses. You could knock her out, drug her, cast a genjutsu on her, or toss her out anytime you wished, but you’re still too soft, Ssasssuke-kun. Too weak to defeat Itachi. The sibilant voice of Orochimaru mocked him inside his head while the cursed seal pulsed with burning pain. Sasuke grabbed his neck and clenched his jaw, taking the punishment.

It had been almost a month since his sinister teacher left him with nothing, no supplies, not even clothes on his back and told him to become the apex predator of this jungle. Sasuke spent the time honing his instincts as well as the mastery over the lightning techniques, but it was all put on hold when Sakura entered the picture.

With one look, he could see she’d gotten stronger, more confident, more capable in their time apart, however at first he was incensed that she would take such a big risk, coming there alone. She didn’t know all the dangers of this jungle and she had no one to watch her back. Sasuke doubted she possessed the same immunity to poisons like the one he’d built up through Kabuto’s disgusting cocktails and sadistic injections.

He treated following Sakura, watching over her while staying out of her sight as just another form of training. He had more than a few close calls when she almost found him out. Her powers of observation greatly increased and Sasuke learned not to underestimate her. He was becoming convinced he could leave her and she’d make it fine back on her own, when she relaxed her iron-clad guard for one critical moment and almost ended up as crocodile food.

His body moved on instinct when he jumped in between her and the attacking beast, a razor sharp fang slicing a long gash on his arm when he pulled it away just before the massive jaws would have clamped on it. It was the worst injury he’d sustained during his stay in the jungle. When Orochimaru sees it, Sasuke would suffer a “penalty” for damaging his future perfect body. Not that he cared much. Surviving Orochimaru’s cruel and unusual ideas for punishment would only serve to make him stronger, more resilient, more prepared to kill Itachi.

At least Sakura was going to leave soon, which was a relief to Sasuke. He didn’t relish the perspective of her running into his teacher or anyone that would be sent to summon him back to the Sound base. In the morning, he’d escort her to the edge of the forest.

Sasuke was jolted when the girl sleeping on his lap unexpectedly shifted. She made a distressed sound in the back of her throat, her face scrunched up funnily. Sasuke carefully brushed away a longer strand of her hair which was tickling her nose. She settled down immediately, but he didn’t pull his hand back. Very gently, he traced over her cheek and earlobe with his fingertips.

Sakura gave out a contented hum, so he continued touching her. This night, being far away from civilization and possible onlookers, Sakura’s obliviousness to his real identity—it all gave him an unparalleled privacy. He couldn’t help himself. No one would ever know, not even her.

He petted her hair, marveling at the silkiness of it, he greedily brushed his fingers on the smoothness of her bare arm, then back up. He stroked her nape, then along her jaw and chin, stopping just shy of her lips.

That’s when Sakura turned her head upwards, green eyes foggily peeking at him through the eyelashes and he froze in shock.

“Sasuke-kun,” she murmured with a drowsy smile, hand closing around his.

“… Sakura,” he said, feeling at a loss. She caught him without the mask, now what?

“I missed you… so much… Sasuke-kun…” she slurred sleepily.

“Aa,” he rasped through a tightened throat. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here,” he told her in a low tone.

Sakura mumbled her agreement and closed her eyes, drifting off. Sasuke released his breath. With a bit of luck, she’d dismiss this conversation as a strange dream. In any case, this was a warning. This one annoying girl made him lose his focus, his edge too easily. He wouldn’t let it happen again.

Sasuke picked up the mask and fastened it on his face.

Sakura woke up refreshed and after sharing canned rations with her masked companion, she had felt good enough to attempt the medical ninjutsu. There was just that nagging feeling in the back of her mind, like she was forgetting something vital…

“Did anything happen when I was asleep?” she asked.

For a split second, she thought she might have seen him tense up. Then the boy shook his head once. Nothing.

Sakura still worried at her lower lip in thought, then let the matter drop. It was probably nothing. She must have dreamt something and simply forgot. That wasn’t unusual. She then turned her mind to more important things.

Delicately, she unwrapped the bandage from his injured arm and put her hands over the scabbing, reddened wound. Green chakra enveloped her palms and seeped under his skin as she concentrated on knitting his flesh. This was a fairly simple healing and it didn’t take long for her to finish, leaving behind smooth, untouched and pink skin where otherwise there would have been a long, ugly scar. Sakura ran her hand down his arm one last time, making sure all was in order. She noticed a small, oval birthmark just below his elbow, which struck her as odd, but not malignant, so she left it alone.

“All done!” she announced with a smile, raising her gaze to the slits in his mask.

The boy tentatively tried moving the arm and found no difficult or pain. He inclined his head in thanks.

“You’re welcome. You saved my life anyway, so this is the least I could do.” Sakura stood up and put on her backpack. “Now, how do I get out of this jungle?”

The boy touched her shoulder and pointed the way, before setting off in the lead. With his help as a guide, Sakura traveled a long distance across the jungle in a matter of hours. Soon her surroundings became familiar.

“I recognize this place… It’s near to where I entered!” she said excitedly and nearly ran into the boy’s back when he abruptly stopped.

“What, why did you stop?” she asked. He crossed his arms and she understood. “Oh… right, you’re not going back with me…” she said quietly, looking to the side, before lifting her face up to him. “Then, I guess this is where we say goodbye.”

Sakura formally bowed. “Thank you for saving my life and guiding me out of here. I owe you.” Then she straightened up with a smile. “I hope we’ll meet again and you won’t be wearing that mask,” she added with a sly look.

He shrugged, giving her the impression that he would consider it, but no promises.

Sakura chuckled. “Maybe not then. Well, I’m going. See you next time!” she said as she pivoted and started walking.

After a dozen steps, she looked back. He was standing where she’d left him, still like a statue. She raised her hand and waved.

He waved back, the darker spot of the birthmark visible from the distance. Sakura was taken aback by the familiarity of his posture, there was something about it that she’d seen before…

She continued walking for a while, mulling over this and then the realization hit her. She whirled around, casting a desperate look.

“Sasuke-kun?! Sasuke-kun, is that really you?”

But the masked boy had already disappeared into the jungle.

AN: Sorry for the lateness of this entry. Happy SasuSaku Month! XD

#ssm19 #ssm19d1 #sasusaku #my fanfiction

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thecardsimagine · 5 years

Text

Of shipwrecks and seafoam

Summary: Let me tell you a story about a pirate and a merman, finding a love that goes beyond insecurities and death. Let yourself be taken away onto a journey about doubt and secrets, understanding and a bond that even goes beyond the deep blue of the ocean.

Pairing: Merman!Julian Devorak x Pirate!Reader (Nonbinary) Rating: Mature because of swearing and suggestive content Warning: Blood, Death, Killing Genre: Romance, Drama, Alternate Universe

a/n: First chapter! I am already ahead of my posting lol, but it would not be fun without some wait! Please enjoy and leave me a comment of what you think ^-^

Chapter 1 - The Unknown

With a surprised scream, you scurried further back on the sandbank, immediately overcome with more pain from your side. Unwillingly, you let out another cry, the pain too much to bear as you felt the blood flow from your wound again. A bad thought overcame you as you silently wished you had not been washed up on this shore, but died instead in the water like your comrades.

The moment you let out your scream you heard a small blop, sounding like something went underwater, and when you finally got some control over your pain again, you looked up, only to see the eyes that had stared at you so intently before gone. Breathing heavily you looked around into the open waters in front of you, blue and calm, nothing of particular interest swimming in it. Almost like the storm and the war at sea had not taken place the night before. It was the way you liked it best and yet, it brought nothing but dread over you.

Maybe you were hallucinating after all, having hit the ground pretty hard when you fell. Your head too, indicated this, being way too heavy to be held up any longer after inspecting the area around you. So you gave it up, sinking the limb down into the rough sand again with a groan. Even though you tried to calm yourself with deep breaths, the happenings finally caught up with your emotions, your body burning as it curled up, tears shooting into your eyes.

For a few desperate minutes, the worst thoughts and the most dreadful memories came back to you. They reminded you of your dead comrades, your destroyed home. How you had thought you were going to die in the water when the mast fell on you. The feelings of knowing you were going to die now and the panic as you couldn't breathe underwater. It all came back to you, and it was terribly fresh in your mind still.

You had lost everything and were stranded somewhere, you didn't even know where it was. Was it an island? Was it the mainland? Would someone come to help you, or were you all alone? Some part of you hoped that if no one was there to help you, you really were there alone, your mind drifting back to the ominous eyes in the water. But even when you looked back once more, they were nowhere to be seen. You really were alone except for a few birds you could hear in the distance.

As the initial panic that had overcome you dispersed, the tears dried out, and you slowly and very carefully sat up. Though it took its time to find a comfortable way to sit in, you didn't grow impatient, suppressing the pain as best as you could with sheer willpower. This was not the end, you told yourself. You had been granted this second chance, and you needed to use it wisely. No matter what was in the water, it couldn't possibly hunt you on land and probably was a stupid fish anyway.

Getting up from the ground was a whole different story though.

You tried seesawing yourself up, which had been the absolute worst idea you could have had, giving you full five minutes of tortures pain. The location of the wound had been severely unlucky, seated right where your body was supposed to bend over. You had no other possibility but to lay back down again until the throbbing pain slowly faded out, enough at least for you to start a second time.

This time, you were much more thoughtful. Rolling onto your knees and hands you could feel the burning in the abrasions on your palms, but it wasn't as bad as the wound at the side of the torso. Reminding yourself to keep your body straight, you struggled to get up, though eventually, you came to a stand, a big achievement for you. It gave you back a bit of your confidence and will to live.

You could do it. There was nothing doing to stop you.

But in the soft sand, your ankle wobbled in your first step, immediately bringing you down to your knees again. You could feel the sting in your side from the shake running through you, but you bit your lip, holding back the tears. You did it once, you'd do it twice.

For a while, it was just you, your thoughts and your fight with the walking. Maybe you felt quite as unsteady because of all the pain in your whole body, perhaps you just had a severe case of sea legs. Whatever it was, it was a displeasure and probably the worst thing you ever went through. When you finally managed a few steps forward, for the first time, you felt the heat radiating from the sun. Pearls of sweat fell off your forehead, landing in the sand and vanishing in only seconds of the contact.

You felt very hot all of a sudden, it being a mixture of the actual sun rays on your skin, the light fever, and your body having to work hard to even get this far. Oh, how much you'd have loved to have a good swig of water right then and there, or some salty bitter which would have probably made you forget about your wound for a while. Your tongue felt dry coming out of your throat, and your eyes burned too, even though the tears had only recently dried out.

Looking around panting, you inspected the area. You were at a large sandbank that ended promptly in a patch of grass and forest. The beach was too big for you to see the sides of it, you did see the water at the end of both of them though. Admittedly, you did not have the courage to make yourself explore very far. There was no guarantee that you would even make it to one end of the beach, let alone, whatever was in or behind the forest area. But you weren't one to give up quite yet either.

With slow, heavy steps, you moved towards the thicket. None of the bushes were tough enough to make for a real hindrance on your path. However, you did try to keep them away from your wound - if possible - your skin too. The last thing you could need was a rash now.

What you were searching for? You didn't know.

Maybe you hoped you would find out where it was that you were stranded. In the best case, you'd find people - hopefully, humans - who'd help you and come to your aid. A hut would have been nice already too. Water, food, shelter, that much you knew you needed. But no matter how bravely you made your way through the greens and trees, there was nothing in sight that would have helped you.

You made a point of inspecting the trees, hoping to come across a coconut tree or maybe bananas, but you weren't as lucky with that search either. Tropical woods yeah, but nothing edible. You had yet to become shamelessly enough to eat the few worms that crossed your field of vision, but right now, the thought alone made you feel sick to the stomach. The last thing you needed was to have to double over and puke out the little bit of water you had left in your body.

The branches and leaves underneath your feet crackled when you stepped on them until suddenly, you felt some resistance. For a silent moment you hoped you hadn't just stepped on an animal, both dead or alive, and you felt immense relief when you just saw a sturdy branch that wouldn't give away under your weight. You picked it up, it made for a good walking stick. It allowed you to at least prop yourself against it and work as a third limb for you, and you felt satisfied with your find.

Soon enough, time had passed. What felt like three hours might have actually just been one, but you couldn't tell the time anymore, aside from the apparent change in daylight. Together with your stick, some rock, and leaves that you could carry, you walked back to where you had come from. You found backtracking to be comparatively easy, just orienting yourself on the bushes you had pushed aside and footprints, and latest back at the beach you could clearly see where you had been lying in the sand before.

Without much care, you dropped the things you had brought back into the sand near the shore. It had never been your task to care for fire, but if you couldn't find basic needs like water and food, you decided you weren't going to freeze to death when night came at least. Yet, you wanted to be careful, ready to extinguish the fire in case something went terribly wrong, so you stayed near the water. In secret, you hoped that the fire would keep possible animals away at night and lure the much-needed help of people closer. "If only you had a ship," you thought.

It needed you to get up once more to get some small branches for the fire, though you experienced it much easier, now that you had the walking stick at your side. With it, you felt capable of progressing and it gave you some much-needed hope. Even if you found the thought to be a little pathetic, it also made you feel less alone and less stranded. You would get through it - you just didn't know how yet.

The unthankful sun that had pestered you all day was slowly setting at the horizon while you tried to start up the fire. Having a lighter would have made this extremely easy, and you felt a little overwhelmed with the task of rubbing two sticks together until they started smoking. It took you so many exhausting and merciless tries, often ending in nothing but one of the sticks breaking, with you only having so many left to try. But you didn't give up. Filled with determination you hung on when finally - at the third to last of your good sticks - grey smoke started to rise.

Overcome with joy you wanted to blow on it to make it spark, but you held your own excitement back to not destroy it. That, and you also had to deal with the pain in your side when you leaned forward, though you tried to ignore it as best as possible. Not long from then and you had a glimmering fire, warming you from the outside now, more than your fever had from the inside. In fact, it only confirmed your thoughts that you would manage to survive. You were strong and as long as you weren't carrying around a massive infection, there was probably nothing holding you back.

That was, in fact, the first time you realized something. Even though you had more than felt the pain all the time, you had yet to actually inspect the wound. The shirt you had been wearing was ripped at your side, though it wasn't hanging off from your body. It was mostly intact if not for the slash-like rip. Even though it was bloodstained and muddy, probably also a little sandy on some patches, you were glad to have it on your body still. You would have been worse without it.

Carefully, you brought your arms up, pulling the shirt over your head with the uttermost carefulness. Just one harsh move and you'd have to rejoice when the pain would retake the upper hand. It did hurt to take it off, but not as much as you expected it to. "Oh god…" you whispered as you discarded the shirt to the site, seeing the wound for the first time. It was not pretty, and it certainly wasn't good.

You wished you could have seen more from the range of view you had, but you could only see the foremost parts. The wound must have been going way to your back from what you could feel, and when you tenderly brought your fingers up to it, they were instantly covered in blood again. It was still way too fresh to be anywhere near recovering. Though the sides were starting to dry up, creating scab which still hurt terribly when touched, at this pace, it would need months to heal up.

You weren't so curious as to explore how deep it was either, being pained enough by just the thought of touching it any further than the scab. Then again, you were afraid that there could still be some splints of wood or anything in it. The good part of your skin felt rough from what you had noticed, probably the sea salt that had manifested through your time in the water. Letting out a displeased sigh, you looked up at the ocean.

The sea was as calm as ever. And you were well aware. Even though you - a simple pirate - couldn't have known the exact reaction of the water on your wound, you did know that it hurt a shit ton to get salt water against open flesh though. And you knew that your grandma had always told you to do it anyway because it 'Closes you right up!' It still hurt though. But after all the pain you had experienced in the last few hours, you weren't sure if you could endure any more than that.

Yes, it would help you - maybe. It could make the wound close faster, avoid infections, at least you thought it could.

Would you risk it though?

There was one more thing. Even though you had pushed this thought aside for almost the whole day, it still had lingered in the back of your mind. What about the creature? You admitted to yourself that it might have been a hallucination or a trick of the sun in the water, but it seemed so… touchable, real even. What if it was still lurking? Maybe you were more prey than you thought you were.

Shaking your head, you dismissed the thoughts quickly. You had come far, you couldn't possibly let yourself stray from the right thing to do, just because of a fantasy. No, you couldn't afford that in your current situation. You really, really couldn't.

Reaching for your walking stick, you pushed yourself up again. There were a few feet between yourself and the ocean water, and you discarded of the pants you still had on your hips. You would wash the clothes at another time. Some time you didn't actually need dry clothes like the night that was coming fast.

'It's just a fish,' you thought. Nothing could harm you, you just needed to jump in, not lose consciousness as the salt would burn out your wound and get out again in one piece. You were a pirate, damnit! You had done much worse than face a tiny, pretty fish.

But with the first step you made into the water, it was clear you were not going anywhere. You jumped hard when you felt your foot covered in slime, and you struggled to even find your stand in the water. Something you had not seen in the waves, or maybe ignored until now was the vast load of seaweed that got swept up the shore. You were sure it was seaweed, you knew the consistency well enough to be able to feel it through the skin of your foot.

"Ew…" You made a gagging noise as you pulled your foot back, a few strings of the green, underwater plant hanging from it. You were a pirate! But that didn't mean you needed to like everything about the deep blue sea. "No way…" you muttered, kicking the seaweed off your foot and instantly regretting having used such hard movements. Admittedly, you knew you shouldn't have given up at a bit of plant, but it certainly had damped your mood.

Walking back to the fire you put on your shirt again, hearing a faint splash in the distance. Goosebumps rose on your skin as you immediately turned around, trying to see something in the dim light of the rising moon. Anything, you just wanted some confirmation. What if… Something had lurked back there, waiting for you to go into the water. A shudder went through you as you decided that maybe the seaweed had been your guardian angel trying to warn you. Now, you chose to not enter the water anytime soon, as long as you couldn't at least see where you were stepping and what was going on beneath you.

With the help of your stick, you slid to the ground, letting out a groan as your bottom hid the sand hard. Careful now, you laid back down. Tomorrow you'd set out the camp a little closer to the forest, that much you were sure of. But for tonight, you couldn't get up again anymore. Everything hurt like you had just been thrashed by someone. That thing you thought you kept noticing was just a fever dream, you tried to tell yourself, to calm the raging thoughts in your mind.

Tomorrow would be better, you decided. A fresh start, better objectives. You could do this, you'd survive. Lying still in the sand, you could feel your wound pulsating in the tact of your heartbeat. It hurt. It hurt terribly. But it would be okay, you knew you could make it. For a while, you tried to listen to the waves, see if there were any more irregularities, but there were none for you make out. It was warm next to the fire, that was good. Probably the only thing that could lull you into sleep like it did, and before long, your eyes closed and you fell into a restless slumber.

You woke up as the moon still shone brightly over the night sky. It couldn't have been many hours that had passed since you fell asleep, as the fire was still glimmering and crackling next to you. A rustling next to your body was what made you snap out of a bad dream you had, a dream about your sinking ship and dead co-pirates. You could feel your body burning up from the fever throughout the night too. Next to you, it sounded like a rough patch of wood rubbing over the just as rough sand. An unpleasant sound, as you found.

When you pinched your eyes together, you heard it louder, moving nervously even. It was accompanied by the waves, and you made out a small disturbance in their consistent clashing against the beach. Then a gurgle, then silence. You stared up at the night sky, stars twinkling peacefully above you. But there you were, scared shitless. What had you just experience? What kind of sound had this been? What was it that had been so close to you?

Your first thought went out to a dog or something similar. You couldn't possibly know what lurked in the forest behind you. But then, why had it gone to the water? Could it have been the creature? Sitting up without hesitation, your adrenaline kept the pain to a minimum. Your head moved from one side of the beach to the other, aimlessly scanning the ocean. Nothing, just water no matter where you looked.

Letting out a deep breath you robbed back over the sand, gaining some more distance. Your left hand touched the place where the creature must have been as the sand felt wet and pushed together there, sending shivers through you. Only then you noticed the cold feeling at your side. Your shirt was, and as you lifted it, seaweed fell out of it. You were disgusted by so many things at this moment. The underwater plant, the thought of something watching you sleep, maybe touching you. Otherwise, you could not explain how the seaweed had gotten on your wound.

Silently, you had to admit the seaweed felt good. Cooling and relaxing the painted flesh underneath, but to you, it was nothing more than dirty water plants, and you tore them off, throwing them back in the water. Your movements stopped as you heard a gurgle, paired with a high-pitched sigh and you looked around frantically. "I am going crazy…" you muttered to no one in particular. "Completely nuts."

There was nothing, it was all in your head. A fever dream, hallucination, whatever you wanted to call it, but it wasn't real. It couldn't be. It could have been you who had laid on the sand, it could have been you picking up seaweed in your sleeping state, seeking for something to cool your body with. But still, you crawled around the fire, to the backside of it, pushing all the sticks and leaves you had left into it, hoping it would keep whatever fantasy of yours away.

And it did. At least, it helped comfort you. The adrenaline disappeared, leaving behind complete exhaustion. And you curled up as good as you could, trying to dismiss any bad thought and irregular noises, before you finally caught back up with your sleep, falling back into the broken dream you had before.

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imagine-organization-xiii · 5 years

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Organization XIII - As Reptiles

Xemnas - King Cobra - The world’s longest venemous snake, threatened by habitat destruction and has been listed as Vulnerable on the IUCN Red List since 2010. It preys chiefly on other snakes and sometimes on rodents and lizards, and typically avoids confrontation with humans if possible. Also the national reptile of India!

Xigbar - Black Mamba - First formally described by Albert Günther in 1864, it is the second-longest venemous snake after the king cobra. In a threat display, the black mamba usually opens its inky-black mouth, spreads its narrow neck-flap and sometimes hisses. It is capable of striking at considerable range and may deliver a series of bites in rapid succession.

Xaldin - Komodo Dragon - A member of the monitor lizard family Varanidae, it is the largest species of lizard and their size is usually attributed to island gigantism. Because of their size, they dominate the ecosystems where they live. There are two glands in the lower jaw that secretes several poisonous toxins, but the glands have also been shown to secrete a coagulant.

Vexen - The Monitor Lizard - Known as the most intelligent reptile on earth, some species’ learn to count snails at feeding time, use their forearms to extract insects from longs, can recognize their human keepers on sight, and display distinct personality traits.

Lexaeus - Salt-Water Crocodile - It is among the largest crocodiles and regarded as dangerous by people who share the same environment. It was hunted for its skin throughout its range up to the 1970s, and is threatened by illegal killing and habitat loss.

Zexion - The Frill-Neck Lizard - Another extremely intelligent animal, they use the large frill around their neck to scare away predators. When in danger, they hop onto their back feet and run away at a fast pace on two legs, almost like a human.

Saix - Cuban Crocodile - a small species of crocodile only found in Cuba. It is a highly aggressive and dangerous animal that is of interest to biologists for it’s unique physical and behavioral traits. Captive animals were intelligent enough to have displayed cooperative hunting behavior and could be taught tricks.

Axel - Fire Skink - The species is known for its bright and vivid coloration. Native to tropical forest in Western Africa, the fire skink lives fifteen to twenty years. It is a diurnal lizard that loves to burrow and hide and is relatively shy and reclusive, but may become tame in captivity.

Demyx - Alligator Snapping Turtle - the largest freshwater turtle in North America that can grow to weigh more than 200 pounds.They have powerful jaws, a sharply hooked beak, and a long, powerful tail. They are almost entirely aquatic and only emerge from the water to bask in the sun or to nest (for the females.)

Luxord - European Adder - venomous snake extremely widespread and found through most of Europe. They are not regarded as especially dangerous; the snake is not aggressive and usually bites only when really provoked, stepped on, or picked up. Bites can be very painful, but are seldom fatal.

Marluxia - Mexican Mole Lizard - this guy is adorably ugly i love him. Also known as the five-toed worm lizard, the mole lizard is one of the four species of amphisbaenian that have legs. It is a burrowing species that usually only surfaces at night or after a heavy rain. It uses it’s tail as an escape tactic for predators.

Larxene - Pongona, or Bearded Dragon - The name "bearded dragon" refers to the "beard" of the dragon, the underside of the throat which can turn black if they are stressed or see a potential rival. They are adept climbers, spending significant amounts of time on branches and in bushes and near human habitation. Pogona species bask on rocks and exposed branches in the mornings and afternoons.

Roxas - The Carolina Anole - an arboreal anole lizard native to the southeastern United States. It is also sometimes referred to as the American chameleon due to its ability to change color from several brown hues to bright green, and its somewhat similar appearance and diet preferences.

Xion - Leaf Chameleon - arguably the world’s smallest reptile, native to Madagascar. Has an unusual shape to its body and is generally earthy in color. Details about the true population of the are unknown, although it is known to be widespread. It is found in many protected parks/areas/nature reserves, and is also protected under the Madagascar laws.

#image headcanon #organization xiii #organization xiii headcanons #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts headcanons

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unclehung10 · 4 years

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neuseeland welche sprache spricht man (8)

new zealand what language is spoken in new zealand what continent does new zealand belong to i wrote down some german words for you and next to them the same words as the children and people in this country say in english. It can happen that a district can overlap with parts of several regions. Because of the majority voting system, these could only gain a few seats in parliament, despite the large number of votes. September 1893 New Zealand was the first country in the world to introduce the right to vote for women. In 1861 large gold deposits were discovered on the South Island, which led to the gold rush in Otago.

New Zealand's South Island - Pure Fascination

Declared a British colony in 1840, it only gained official autonomy from England in 1947. For him, it's all about motivating the warriors psychologically. The choreography is very free, so that each dancer can express himself. This Haka is usually danced without weapons. The pair flukes (Schistosoma) are parasitically living sucker worms that are native to the tropics and subtropics. They infest mammals, birds, reptiles such as crocodiles and alligators, but also humans. They live in water, penetrate the bloodstream of their victims and then remain in the veins of their hosts. The tiny pair can cause schistosomiasis (also called bilharzia), a tropical disease for which there is only one antidote worldwide. New Zealand is an island state in the South Pacific, but where exactly is New Zealand?

The place and the buildings where the treaty was signed at that time are today the popular tourist attraction "Waitangi Historic Reserve".

{

New Zealand's territorial waters are with 167,653 kmÂ² very large relative to the land mass, the Exclusive Economic Zone is with 3,931,136 kmÂ² even one of the largest in the world.fact, many visitors are so overwhelmed by the peaceful atmosphere that they forget all vigilance and behave differently than at home.you may be bothered on the beaches with sand flies, wasps and the parasites called Giardia, which "only" provoke a strong thin shit and are otherwise harmless.

Why are there no snakes in New Zealand?

But for many Maori, a part of Tahiti is the most important of all islands - the spiritual home of their ancestors. Raiatea belongs to French Polynesia and is located about 220 kilometers northwest of the largest island of Tahiti.

Read more about campervan hire New Zealand here. Early settlement long-arrow-right The Maori were the first settlers of New Zealand, which they called Aotearoa - "Land of the Long White Cloud". The last time a man died of tree nettle poisoning was in 1961. He stumbled while walking through a nettle bush; five hours later he died in hospital. However, this was the only recorded death so far; all other poisoned people were very ill for two to three days.

Who owns New Zealand?

New Zealand belongs to the British Commonwealth. The word Haka in itself has nothing to do with war, but only means "dance" or "song with dance". Even if the wide open eyes and the loud voices easily tempt to take the movements as aggressive, they are not always. The point is to gather, to experience courage through the group, to stand strong and find balance in power. Their fine K

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purpleplatypusbear21 · 5 years

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21 Questions

Tagged by @hailqiqi - Thank you for the tag!

Rules: Answer the questions then tag 21 people.

Nickname: PPB21

Zodiac: Taurus

Height: 5′2′’ (I’m short)

Last Movie I Saw: Into the Spiderverse - IT WAS SO GOOD!

Last Thing I Googled: "What’s in the sugar bowl?” (A reference to A Series of Unfortunate Events)

Favorite Musician: Brendon Urie <3

Song Stuck In My Head: The Super Smash Bros. Brawl main theme because my husband was singing it in the car

Do I Get Asks: Sometimes. I used to get more with anon on, but I’m happier with anon off.

Following: 268

Amount Of Sleep: Usually 6-7 hours a night

Lucky Number: 21

What Am I Wearing: A black and white striped shirt, black pants, black boots with gold zippers, black and white earrings

Dream Trip: Anywhere tropical

Dream Job: I’m trying to find the intersection of “doing good for the world” and “making a lot of money” - someone help me please!

Play Any Instrument: Piano, harp, singing

Languages: English, French

Favorite Songs:

The Scientist - Coldplay

The Blower’s Daughter - Damien Rice

This Ain’t A Scene, It’s An Arms Race - Fall Out Boy

Don’t Let Me Go - The Fray

Sweetness - Jimmy Eat World

LGFUAD - Motion City Soundtrack

That Green Gentleman - Panic! at the Disco

Lisztomania - Phoenix

Scar Tissue - Red Hot Chili Peppers

Doctor Worm - They Might Be Giants

Random Fact: I am biracial (half White, half Chinese), but everyone thinks I’m Japanese.

Describe Yourself As Aesthetic Things: (I don’t really want to do this so I’m just gonna name things I like) - coffee, chocolate, cats, music, dance, Dragon Quest, Pokemon GO, the Undertale soundtrack, summer, fashion, cosplay

First Fandom: ATLA!

Tagging…

@clarielparke, @fanwright, @prinsesseazula, @zuzuthejerkbender, @focusas, @seyaryminamoto, @dragongirl028, @firenationflameos, @gd2go2, @bellatrixobsessed1, @dimensionbitch, @madamebomb, @salixj, @the-rosey-one, @bushy-the-bush-spirit, @squarehere, @imperialfire, @justteamavatar, @appaang, @esegrouchmaniac, @dragomer

#21 questions #personal

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kitsoa · 5 years

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Fic: A Measure of Gratitude

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Genre: Gen

Word Count: 4309

Characters: Sora, Riku

Relationship: Sora & Riku (mainly platonic but its free real estate)

Summary: [Post KH2][Pre-DDD] It was a childish ambition of his, accomplished in seconds. Perhaps the way he got there cheapened the moment, but it couldn’t change the beauty of the view. This was his home.

Sora reflects on his homecoming.

The air splashed around like a thick hot soup. Hungry gasps for oxygen took in the humidity with native ease while arms pumped through the foliage of green and sneakers slapped the wet stone at a constant beat. The run was joined with the ceaseless screams of cicadas and the scampering rustle of a startled animal.

The island was built around a massive and dormant volcano. Upon its dark soil sprung violently rich greenery. Trees of impressive heights, coiling vines along fallen trunks, moss blooming along jagged cliff sides, wet ravines that spilled water from a nearby ocean channel in loud splatters. The expanse of the main island was covered in a forest known fondly by the youth of the town. The primary hiking trail was exhausted in its familiarity, only holding captive the spirit at the base of the volcano’s sharp incline by a sloppily pinned strip of bright yellow ribbon blocking entry to Uwami Point.

It was almost laughable really. Closed in a moment of crisis roughly 20 years ago, the lone, pathetic string of tape was mainly symbolic of the very few hard laws in the land, relying on the trust of islander fellowship to enforce the idea that Uwami Point could kill as it had done before. It didn’t stop the more adventurous children until resulting consequences satisfied them to play exclusively at a lonely island across a small surf of ocean.

It was a schoolyard dare, a right of passage for unruly teens, a thrilling challenge to a wide-eyed child looking to prove himself. So the act of jumping over the blockade was not unheard of. Not for many Islanders and certainly not for Sora.

The impact of his shoes on the rock was momentary as the young teen immediately broke back into his run. He launched himself among the step stones of a winding creek, sweeping under low hanging branches, arranged in a manner both familiar and entirely new—like someone shifted the couch over by two inches. His focus was as intense as his breathing, eyes darting miles ahead of his next step to take the vault across the stump that wasn’t there 2 years before, and dodging the drop where he broke his wrist when he was nine. All the while the incline grew steep and the smell of the ocean took back dominance over the dirt and green.

The trees started to thin as the rocks climbed to the sky and what was the once the expert movements of a boy at home became something else entirely. He kicked off the wall of stone and parried himself off another in a way that looked like flying. Sora flipped along the small footholds, finding greater purchase on the larger ledges only to launch himself higher, sometimes scampering his shoes straight up a vertical incline to catch a distance lip.

The entire time his blood pumped, eyes elated and sparkling with what was a childhood dream falling—or in this case climbing— into his lap. The moment captured his body into a captivated physical trance, his focus equally pacified and humming with electrifying precision. Beneath that, wells of something greater, more mysterious, and limitless bubbled with the joy. It joined his coiled muscles as he rocketed along the impossible trail of Uwami Point.

The massive leaves of a tropical bush indicated the return of green and Sora grabbed its stalk for one final pull up. There were few trees upon the more level walkways of the mountain but the path winded across vertigo-inducing altitude. Sora rose to his feet, taking several steps toward the clearing on the rocks, the air salty and active. It was a like a different world, the clouds so much closer, his eyes consuming the entire expanse of the forest surrounding the town— the size of a dinner plate from his vantage point. His feet stopped at the massive drop into a sea of trees.

“Wow.” He breathed, unable to contain his wonder. Here was his home, his small world nestled in a nook of island foliage and blue sea, in a form he never before dreamed he’d see. Sora let the temptation to reach his hand out toward the coastal settlement take over, his gloves obscuring the homes, his fingers worming along the dirt streets, every single denizen in his palm. The school was near his pinky, the younger students milling about like ants while at recess. Several ships were finding the port with trade from the island neighbors. His small home settled on the edge of town by a coast of soft white sand curled under his thumb. If he squinted, the mayor’s mansion was in sight by the town square. Face flush with excitement, Sora thought of showing Riku this view. He wondered what he’d say.

And then, in the distance, he spotted the lush little Play Island. The special islet stood out like a beacon surrounded by the blue. Even so, it was still an unsuspecting location for his world’s heart. Just knowing that gave the place a warm glow that was amplified by the fond memories upon those shores. The compulsion to lay on its sun-soaked beach was far too real for the mountain scaling teen.

With a wry grin, Sora fell into the easy analytics of judging if a glide-induced jump from this height would result in an early nap across the stretch of water. Confidence started to swell with a change in the wind pattern, whipping his hair into his eyes which were skirting across the town in a last minute search for witnesses. He took a couple steps back to prep his running start.

His muscles fired him into a leaping sprint when a voice emerged out of the quiet nature around him.

“You will definitely get spotted if you try that.”

Sora squawked as he tried to stop, his momentum launched out of control. And in a comical attempt to stop himself, the boy’s arms flailed wildly while his sneakers slid to the edge of the cliffside until finally, Sora fell off.

“Sora!”

Riku, the unsuspecting visitor to what was actually an impossible trail to follow, stumbled forward in a jerk of protective reflexes, reaching down the cliff toward his falling friend to no avail.

“Oh thanks, Riku.” He heard the eye roll in Sora’s voice and took in the sight of his friend falling slowly through the air, a magical glide easing him to the next available ledge, arms crossed in a sour mood.

“Did anything hit you?” Riku couldn’t contain the guilty worry in his voice. He clenched the ledged while his friend descended.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Sora insisted, feet touching the ground on a small lip along the cliffside. “Just gimme a second and I’ll give you some payback.”

A second was all he needed to scale back up in two easy leaps. Riku couldn’t rise to his feet in time to avoid Sora’s vengeful tackle on the way up, complete with a gurgly yell.

“Wah? SORA!” He spluttered as a face full of Sora was now on top of him, pushing his shoulders to the ground. A mischievous grin was on his mouth as he pressed his forearms into Riku’s face with a series of sloppy knuckle slaps to his head.

“Way to screw up my plan Riku!” Sora laughed while the older boy knocked his hands away in a light swipe. He then used his long legs to pin Sora’s ankles in a show of resistance.

“Oh, you’ll thank me later,” Riku responded, attempting an easy tone with difficulty amidst the wrestling match. He swept his feet to the side, knocking Sora off balance and into humorous crumpled of limbs. Riku took his chance and went after the boy’s mess of brown hair, rustling it into an even greater mess.

“Hey!” Sora protested grabbing at his pant leg in a childish way as Riku got to his feet. His posture tensed.

“No no don’t.” He said as Sora released his pant leg with a cocked eyebrow. Riku heaved a sigh, scratching has his face with an embarrassed gaze. “I can't let my uniform rip.”

And that’s when Sora took full note of his friend’s attire, blue plaid dress pants and a now dirt scuffed short sleeve uniform polo fit with a plaid tie. The Destiny High School summer uniform.

“Why aren’t you in class?”

Riku swallowed a laugh in a choked huff. “Why aren’t you?”

Sora shrunk back in a spell of insecurity. He grabbed at his feet as he adjusted himself into a sitting position. He was still in his adventuring clothes, complete with the clanking buckles and rattling pockets full of keychains and accessories. He scratched at his head.

“Ah, you know.” He laughed with a furtive hesitation in his eye. “I wasn’t really feeling it today, that’s all...”

Riku crossed his arms, clearly contemplating something in the silence of his piercing eyes. He took in a breath… and then sighed it away in defeat.

“I’m not really one to talk.” Riku pulled a hand through his bangs, clearing his vision before the wind swept it back into his eyes. Sora felt the tension in his neck relax. “The moment I realized you were skipping, I headed out after you. Talk about an opportunist.”

“How’d you know I’d be here?”

Riku hummed thoughtfully, taking a moment to crouch down to Sora’s seated level and kick his feet out. “You were staring at Uwami Point yesterday. I had a feeling you wanted to give it a spin with your new abilities.”

“And yet you stopped the biggest test of said abilities.”

“Hey, as impressive as your ability to glide is, don’t think for a second you won’t get spotted by the entire town trying to take a short cut to the Play Island. We have to—”

“Maintain the world border. Don’t worry, Donald never let me forget.”

“‘Border?’ ”

“Sorry— ‘order.’ ”

“You’ve clearly committed that to memory.”

Sora made an exaggerated pout. “It’s not easy lying to everyone.”

His exaggeration hid greater stress and Sora had to swallow down a sudden string of tension in his throat at a creeping memory from only days before. A reunion so basic; the family friends rushing to their home as news of Sora and Riku’s return rippled across the town like the igniting lamps at nightfall. He remembered Hana, the wife of his father’s employer, in her misleading scowl and heavy glare, yielding to a twinkling joy on verge of tears, crushing him in a hug and pawing his shoulders and face for signs of some kind of harm. Questions spilled from her mouth that would echo later from neighbors of a more casual bond. Where had he been? What had caused his absence? Was he okay?

He didn’t blame them for their overbearing reactions. He even indulged in the euphoric atmosphere of their presence. Old bonds in his heart leaped. Childish selfishness basked in an attention he had gluttoned for in his younger days. And as joy curled his lips, a blush rose to his cheeks and brought a similar twinkle to his eye— looming clunch on his jaw skewed his face awkward. His neck grew tight and a pressure seeped through his chest.

When the swell of shock and elation died out, and all that was left between them was that empty air of unanswered questions and great expectations, there was the seizing dismay in her eyes. It was a confusion so unrelated and undeserving while she and many others in the following days would realize that they had come to harbor a worry that would never find burial.

And wasn’t that worry just another form of darkness?

Riku’s face was lax, his mouth a hard to read line. “True.”

Sora shook his head of the memory, choosing instead to cling on the more present good. The beautiful horizon lent a hand in that.

“Oh, but secrets can be fun too! How many people do you think have ever successfully climbed Uwami Point?” As if to exclaim his point, Sora outstretched his arms to present the impressive view of the town.

Riku hummed. “If the stories are true, I can only imagine a small number have even tried.”

'Stories’— meaning cautionary tales and ‘tried’—meaning ‘failed.'

“Yep… Everything looks so different from up here.”

“It certainly provides… an interesting perspective.”

The kind of perspective a restless child could have used to cure his island fever. A spin on the small sameness of a sea-locked paradise that could easily inspire and regrow weary appreciation for home… But it was a perspective nearly impossible to gain without first stepping foot outside. Redundant, the view of the town could just as easily summate the limits of their world.

The thought was sobering. The memories of reckless horseplay on the island and schemes of adventure on the beach gave a sleepy warmth in Sora’s head. It felt a little like swimming, staring out at home. Weightless, free, and comforting. The memories of loving smiles from shopkeepers on the square, or his father’s crew, to the diligent teachers at the school— he imagined they were all within his vantage point from this distance. But in the same way, it felt a little muffled. Unreal and distorted as though the winds from this mountaintop were waves and those smiles were trying to talk to him from the surface when all he could only see was their sun dazzled shadows through the water and all he could hear were their warped voices in the bubbles.

“Are you happy to be back Riku?”

The question caught Riku off guard, Sora’s expression was mellow and perhaps nostalgic—not an ounce of unspoken context or prying. Just an honest reflection. Their home behind his heartfelt gaze, the sun as ever faithfully crawling through the sky, the question seemed silly.

“Yeah.” And his words were sure. It didn’t really matter if rumors flew in unsavory ways, or if the townsfolk would never completely understand the people they were growing into. Even if there was a foundation of truth in the furtive glances, and that horrifying storm— now a bad memory— was a result of his weakness… the idea of standing on this earth had been resigned so many times in the past year that Riku couldn’t fathom regret. At least not at that moment. Sora just made things easy.

“What about you?” He shot back. What of this open heart could words really convey? There was something so islander about an exchange of easy pleasantries, if this could be considered that.

“Oh sure.”

A silly question indeed.

And it was like they were on those dark shores again, yearning for the slight breeze to smell the same while letting it settled slowly that they were never going to view their sea again. If Sora hadn’t been there. If he had been alone, grounded on that suffocating land, Riku imagined he would have wept endlessly on that black sand. He would have gone from being blind to the wealth he already had, to truly destitute. A real island prison as opposed to his naively manufactured one.

But Sora’s eyes flickered, that sobered feeling from earlier swelling around his vision while he took in his friend. Déjà vu. That water swarmed around Riku and he felt the urge to reach out to him against a swallowing current. At least… he was below the surface with him. It gave him the strength to lay the feeling on the table.

“But you know. I think I’m a little nervous.” The surprising words had that characteristic Sora pep. It was the sort of certainty that spoke of his refusal to dwell and brood, or at least fight in the face of it.

“Nervous? Of what?” Unlike Riku, Sora’s never resented his home. Any guilt around his heart from here would have to have been born from some contrived sense of failed responsibility and as far as he could tell— Sora was nothing but victorious.

Sora slowly let his gaze fall away from the town, focusing at his feet, upon the shoes that trodden on lands beyond the wildest imagination.

“Not a day went by when I didn’t think of home… I just wanted to find you and Kairi and let everything go back to normal... “ He cocked his head in some mixture of nostalgia and amusement.

“But ever since we got back… I’m starting to wonder if normal’s even possible anymore.”

Sora wasn’t sure normal was the word. Maybe it was ‘same’? But that forced him to recognize the feeling as unyielding change. A transformation instead of a slightly skewed picture frame.

Sora‘s voice was gentle, almost lost to the wind in his bout of insecurity. Riku exhaled through his nose, not taking his eyes off the sad smile on his friend. There was a flare of guilt in his gut he refused to let fester. If only he had realized what he had. If only he hadn’t uprooted their world and destroyed any sense of the word normal. If only—

“You think you’ve changed?”

Sora crossed his arms with a more befitting pout of consideration as he rolled the summation.

“Yes? I mean something’s different. I feel different.”

“You’ve grown,” Riku corrected and Sora felt an uncontrolled swell of pride from a younger side of himself, desperate for his older friend’s recognition, now suddenly dished out without fanfare. He laughed it away with a dry bark.

“I’m taller.”

“And you can climb Uwami Point in seconds flat.” And the weight of such a benign fact was reluctantly recognized, but promptly ignored.

“That doesn’t matter.” He pushed Riku’s example away with his hand, bemusement in his eye. It did matter. It was indicative of his new abilities, of his responsibilities and purpose. It was the highest point in their world. The limit.

“Does ‘normal’ even matter?” Riku asked, but in his head, he screamed ‘ of course it matters.' The attempt at devil’s advocate to fight Sora’s woes was a purpose he could rally behind though. It settled him into a familiar position; giving sage advice he wasn’t entirely sure of like the older kid on the Play Island he was used to being.

“Not exactly…” Sora admitted. “But it probably does for everyone else.”

Riku paused, the spell of concern resonating and tugging at his own heart. It didn’t take long for the rumors to reach them. While their return was miraculous and welcome, the lack of answers to their great mystery simmered a world of fables. How long until they tainted the hearts of their beloved islanders? How long until the weakest of connections withered when Sora’s love included everyone? Would it spread like poison? What would that lead to?

“I know what you mean,” Riku said after a moment, doing his best to fight the spiraling void of dark possibilities. Alas, it brought him to a spot of resonance. A memory from just that morning, interrupting Kairi’s pre-class conversation with her classmates to inquire about Sora and the stares from the underclassmen that ensued. People unsure of what to think. Perceptions once gilded in admiration and familiarity now boggled in the foreign sight that was Riku himself. Otherness. Guilt. It was like playing with fire and blisters calloused along his skin.

Riku didn’t know how to put that into words.

“But hey,” He continued, finally knocking Sora out of his thoughts and catching his drifting gaze with a tilt of his head. “I guess we just have to keep it a secret the best we can. Just you, me, and Kairi.”

They were the people Sora’s heart chose. Woven into the foundation of all he felt, they were his pillars. As long as they stood beside him, he would be okay. That image of swimming felt a little more grounded, in his hands were the solid palms of resonating company and it coursed through him like liquid courage. The steadfast eyes of his longest friend reassured him. He was not alone.

Sora nodded sharply, encouraged. “You’re right.”

“That’s more like the Sora I know.” A wry smile teased Riku’s mouth. A shock of perspective— one of less macrocosmic levels— jolted Sora with a trill of self-conscious anxiety at his words. He blinked back beside himself.

“Ah… uh… Sorry?” He offered. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t being ‘me’...”

Riku waved the concern away with a laugh. “Don’t think about it too hard, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Hey!” Sora jutted his jaw forward for show and Riku had to hold it together with a bemused smile.

“Why don’t you go to class tomorrow? We can bring things to normal together.” Riku offered after a kind silence.

He shifted his weight and brought himself onto his feet as Sora pursed his lips, giving the only school building on the island a long and pointed glance.

“Come on Sora. United front?”

He may cox his friend with ease, but stepping into the constricting uniform was a herculean task in and of itself. He could truly sympathize with Sora’s reluctance with striking clarity. Even so, Riku's efforts seemed fruitful.

“Only if you let me glide to the Play Island after nightfall.” Sora mirrored Riku, rising to his feet with a sly grin on his face, troubles far away. He began walking toward the edge of the perimeter he arrived from, intending to jump.

Riku gave a scoff. “You’ll have to carry me with you.”

“No way! You’re too heavy!”

“I’m offended.”

“How are you gonna get down without scuffing up your uniform?” Sora asked pointedly, peering over the edge to find potential footholds for his friend to ease down the cliff. Riku, in a moment of concern, glanced at his uniform pants, patting away some dirt collected from when he was sitting.

“I guess I didn’t think that far.”

Sora took a step back in yet another jumping prep, a self-important laugh. “Then it looks like you’re actually are getting that lift.” And that’s when Sora stepped on a loose stone, bringing his attention to the earth beneath his feet.

“Hey, Riku… come over here.”

“I was joking,” Riku said turning around from the cliffside only to noticed Sora‘s distracted focus. He drew closer, following his friend’s curiosity as he crouched himself toward the stone.

“What do you know... We aren’t the first ones up here.” Riku mused as Sora brushed away loose dirt from the sloppy engraving. It appeared to be old but was deep enough to have survived years of erosion. Whoever wrote the message did so with passion. Sora imagined if someone were to have scaled this cliff —without superhuman abilities— they would’ve easily had the drive to inspire a trophy of this simplicity. The message itself was the confusing part.

“‘Another, ’” Sora read aloud. “Another what?”

This was the highest point in all of Destiny Islands. There wasn’t ‘another.’

Riku failed to respond, something dark sobering his gaze. “That’s kind of sad.” He said after a pause.

“Hm? What do you mean?” Sora was attempting to search for more inscriptions on the rock but failing.

Riku took his time to brush his thumb over the message, the jagged engraving seemed artistic at first glance, but closer inspection showed more sloppy desperation in the lines. “Whoever climbed up here chose not to write their name… they probably weren’t very proud of themselves.”

And to write something as greedy as 'another.' There was little context in those lines, but something about its location was chilling. Sure... the view was beautiful, the feat was validating, the notoriety was immortalizing, but what more could someone from this small world expect?

“Oh…” Sora knitted his eyebrows together in concerned thought. “That’s… not right…”

Who wouldn’t feel proud of themselves? Sora and Riku technically cheated themselves from the pride… but the spoils of the view, the nostalgic dream-come-true was too sweet to not appreciate. But this mystery person, who most likely scaled this mountain with their hands, facing the dangerous winds and stretched out footholds… they didn’t even tell anyone to warrant an island legend… assuming that they got back down alive. Sora almost choked on that sinking thought. It made him feel wrong, almost dirty. In those moments, the air clung to his skin weird, like he didn’t really belong. Nothing stirred more fear in his heart.

“Or their name is actually ‘Another.’” Riku offered after a silence.

Sora choked, but this time on a bursting laugh. “Now that’s sad.”

“I’m just picturing a cranky mother naming her fifth kid ‘Another’ out of frustration or something.”

Sora threw his head back. “I’d probably climb a mountain too if my mom was that disappointed in me.”

“You’ve done more than that and your mom’s a saint Sora.”

Sora smiled, impossibly bright. “I’m actually really happy we weren’t the first up here.”

It made him feel closer to the ground, but he didn’t know how to say that out loud.

Riku hummed in agreement. Sora took in the town as he rose to his feet one final time. This was home. It was small, but plenty. This was enough.

When they returned to level ground, Sora and Riku took a boat out to the Play Island. They stretched the long afternoon in the dark cave of the Secret Place, holding a handful of conjured fire to newly made engravings of their own, sloppily scratched on the precious blank stone. They tested their imagination and art skills on the walls, making up stories about a mysterious ungrateful mountain climber and later showing Kairi in fits of laughter. She scolded them for skipping class before drawing an artistically superior sequel.

And when night fell they saw the stars shimmering from the cave openings. Backs flat on the wet stone floor, they got another, equally impressive view of their world.

#kingdom hearts #a repost because i put the ao3 link the last post and i dont think it got on the tag #anyway please enjoy

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