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endlessnightlock · 2 years

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Hey there lovely lady! Here's a few gems from the "101 ways to say I love you" prompts (holy shit there are SO many good ones on there 👌👌👌) I know you'll make absolute magic from these!!

#20, #23 #41

P.S so glad to see you back with us on the ol Tumblrs and I hope you are having a great day 🌞💕

@peeta-pocket thank you, I'm doing great!

From the 101 Ways To Say I Love You prompt list.

20. "You make me feel safe."

23. "I want you, and only you."

41. "Let me see your scars..."

“...but that’s enough from me. And Sweetheart’s a whole lot cuter than an old drunk.” Wolf whistles carried up from the crowd, and Haymitch rolled his eyes. “Flattery ain’t going to get any of you free drinks!”

That stirred up some laughter, but Haymitch ignored them as he went on. “So, without further ado, here she is—Katniss Everdeen.”

Katniss waved to the crowd of club-goers as she stepped on the stage with her guitar slung over her back. “How are y’all doing tonight?” she asked as she pulled the stool from the back of the stage and set it in front of the microphone. She sat down, pulling her guitar forward in place, smiling at the faces she couldn’t quite make out for the bright stage lights. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m here to have a good time. Let’s get started!”

While Katniss appreciated the fans she’d somehow garnered as a regular at the small club, she wasn’t great at making small talk with them, on stage or off. And so, because she’d rather be herself than insincere, she filled as much of her set with her songs as she could. Besides, the music was what the people came for; it’s what she did best.

There was one exception to Katniss’s keep mum on stage rule. She shifted on the stool as she neared the end of her set, finishing the second-to-last song. Sharing heartache made life a little less lonely. If she helped some of her fans get through a hard time the way songwriting had worked for her, it made the occasional twinge of discomfort she felt singing personal lyrics and telling a little of her story in front of a crowd.

“This song is very special to me,” Katniss murmured, strumming a few lead-in cords. Of all her songs, Let Me See Your Scars was, by and large, her most popular. As bittersweet as it was to remember the past on at least a weekly basis, she knew the lyrics garnered a strong reaction because she’d put so much of her heart and soul into it.

“This one is about first love and loss and all the highs and lows that go into it.” She explained that when she was seventeen, soon after the loss of her sister, love blew into her life like a spring rainstorm. The relationship made her feel alive again, and even after it ended when he left for college, she hadn't found anyone that made that type of impression on her since. “It was a once in a lifetime thing, and I kept my mouth shut,” she admitted. “Anyway, that’s enough about me. Here’s Let Me See Your Scars.”

Katniss made her way through each verse, especially melancholy thinking about the boy who’d been such an essential part of her life. In between verses about coming back to life from a living death, only to be haunted by his ghost once he left, she heartfeltly sang the chorus:

You made me feel safe

You were a shelter from the storm

For all my life I’ll only want you

Only you

Because you said

Let me see your scars…

When she played the last note on her guitar, the crowd erupted. As they were still making noise, as usual, Haymitch turned the stage lights off and the low club lights back on, allowing Katniss a chance to get a look at her fans before she left the stage.

She saw him in the crowd, as devastating as he’d ever been, and her heart seemed to stop. It’d been six years since he left her behind, but he still looked the same—beautiful.

Nausea kicked in as she realized he was now aware of just what his leaving did to her, that she was still in love with him.

Katniss had to close her eyes to escape that blue gaze cutting through her like a goddamn ax.

Peeta.

KPKPKPKPKP

The February air was like a knife to the lungs when Katniss burst through the backdoor of the club and leaned against the brick facework. She was only in her black tights, mini skirt, and sweater she'd worn for tonight’s set. Shivering, she crossed her arms over her chest as she stepped into a shadowy doorway. She wasn’t running away. She just needed a little time to think before she had to go back inside and confront the gut-punch from her past.

Katniss wished she'd thought to grab her coat before leaving the club, but heartbreak and despair tended to mess with your head. The exit door creaked open behind her; the noise the winter-dry hinges made was the only reason she looked back at all.

Peeta.

Katniss caught the frantic way he turned in every direction, trying to find her in the shadowy alleyway. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. His distress had always gotten to her, so she stepped out of the shadows and let him see her.

“Katniss,” her name slipped off Peeta's tongue with the same disbelief that made her hide in the first place.

“Peeta, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were here— if I’d known, I wouldn’t have,” she tried to explain, say anything to make this situation any better, but her words faltered when he strode towards her and placed both hands on her cheeks before kissing her with what had to be years of the same longing she’d felt. Katniss whimpered at the relief of having everything she'd lost back again.

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry,” Peeta explained between kisses. “It’s been the same for me. I could never forget you either.”

#endlessnightlock writes #everlark fic #101 ways to say i love you prompts #everlark fanfiction #THG #obviously I'm not a songwriter lol #but I tried

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makeste · 4 years

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“...and I bullied him.”

hello, hello, good afternoon or evening or whatever time it is. so by now we’ve all had some time to bask in those “Kacchan admitted he cares about Deku” feels (well, technically they were “All Might pointed out that Kacchan was worried about Deku and Kacchan didn’t deny it” feels, BUT THOSE MIGHT AS WELL BE THE SAME FEELS, YOU KNOW). and it’s been lovely. I’ve been having a time. it’s been nice.

but now I would like to talk a bit more about a part of this chapter which I think was even more important.

for me, this was the line of the chapter. this one panel may honestly be the biggest piece of Kacchan character development since all the way back in chapter 120. “I ended up bullying him.” okay but guys?? can we just talk?? about how absolutely extraordinary this one sentence is.

it’s self-aware.

introspection? from a kid who’s had to be dragged kicking and screaming to every character development milestone he’s ever experienced in his life? and on an emotional level that actually goes deeper, and doesn’t just stop at the surface-level anger that’s so often his instinctive reaction to everything? who are you and what have you done with Bakugou Katsuki lol.

but seriously, the level of self-analysis here almost stunned me, guys. not only does he demonstrate a very impressive level of insight into Deku (something I especially love because it mirrors the many analyses Deku has made of him, and shows that the understanding between them is actually mutual), but he also shows an unprecedented degree of insight into himself. like, historically speaking, Bakugou and Feelings have not always exactly been on the same page, you know? so for him to suddenly get so thoughtful now, and sincerely try to analyze these feelings which up until now he’s always ignored and avoided dealing with... that is such a huge step. also, bonus points: he recognizes it as a problem within himself, and doesn’t try to pin the blame on Deku in any way. he recognizes that he’s the one who reacted badly to Deku’s behavior. to be able to examine your own feelings like that and arrive at a conclusion that acknowledges that you’re not the good guy in this, that you’re the one who made the mistake -- that takes a level of accountability that not everyone possesses.

it’s self-prompted.

okay this one is a big deal honestly. no one put a gun to Katsuki’s head here and forced him to confess this. all All Might said was “you’re worried about him too” and that somehow prompted a level of emotional honesty that Katsuki has never before shown. now, based on the fact that the successors’ notebook is still fresh in Katsuki’s mind, and that All Might mentioned earlier that Aizawa couldn’t help because he was “busy at the moment”, this conversation likely took place shortly after the kids returned from their New Year’s break. meaning that this was basically right after the Endeavor internship arc, when thoughts about seeking atonement were still fresh on Katsuki’s mind. so this isn’t entirely out of the blue; it shows that Katsuki did, in fact, learn exactly what All Might was hoping he would learn from Endeavor.

but it’s one thing for this to be on his mind, and another thing entirely for him to actually confess it out loud. and I absolutely will give him full credit for that. he admits, without anyone forcing him to, that he bullied Deku. there’s no incentive for him to do this whatsoever. Deku isn’t there to hear it. he’s not admitting it for the purposes of seeking forgiveness. he’s simply just being honest, and owning up to what he did because he realizes it was wrong. and that takes a lot of inner strength, to do that. to not shy away from it and keep pretending like it never happened. this is a huge first step for him.

it’s a confession that leaves him emotionally vulnerable.

this is another big one. it’s not always evident because he makes a big effort to downplay it, but Katsuki looks up to All Might every bit as much as Deku does. he seeks his approval, he wants All Might to be proud of him, even though he very often puts on a big show of not caring about it at all. it means a lot to him. a lot.

and Katsuki knows how much All Might cares about Deku. and sure, All Might is already perfectly aware that Katsuki and Deku aren’t exactly on the best of terms, and he’s always been understanding about it; always gently compassionate and attempting to smooth things out between them without being judgmental.

but All Might also doesn’t know everything about the two of them. and even with Kacchan and Deku’s relationship never exactly being on the most rock solid of terms at U.A., there’s still a vast difference between the way they interact there, and the way that they interacted back in middle school. when Katsuki was not only hostile, but occasionally downright cruel. and when Deku was still quirkless, and very much not on equal footing with Kacchan in terms of power, and yet Kacchan bullied him anyway.

what Katsuki is confessing here puts him at risk of rejection from one of the people whose opinion of him matters the most. he’s opening himself up to the possibility that All Might might not, for once, react with his trademark understanding. he’s admitting to All Might, I did something unherolike, and I hurt someone you care about, and I didn’t have a good reason for doing it. All Might, in the moment immediately following this statement, has an incredible amount of power over Katsuki. he has the ability to withdraw his support, to condemn him, to pull away and decide that Katsuki is not someone worthy of becoming a hero after all. he has all the power in the world over Katsuki in this one moment; a rejection from him would be a blow he’d never recover from.

and Katsuki, knowing this, tells him anyway. willingly opens himself up to that possibility of being hurt, of being rejected and shunned by the person who inspired his dream. because the alternative is being dishonest with him. this is, in short, a decision made because he believes All Might deserves to know this, and deserves to hear the truth from him. he wants his approval so badly, but he can’t live with the knowledge that he’s “tricked” him into giving it. so he tells him the truth, ready to face whatever consequences might arise from that. and I think that might be one of the bravest things he’s ever done.

it’s not attempting to shirk responsibility.

this, right here, is why Katsuki is my favorite character. because even though he’s flawed, even though he’s made a lot of mistakes, when he realizes that and is confronted by it, he never tries to hide from them. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: to me, the essence of Katsuki is that he is someone who is always trying to be better. he wants to be a good hero; he wants to be a good person. when people point out to him that he’s done something wrong, he listens. it doesn’t always sink in right away, sure, and sometimes he gets stubborn and it can be hard to hammer that truth in. but once he gets it, he always makes the change. he never tries to make excuses. he owns up to his shit and does his best to course correct.

with this acknowledgement here, that he bullied Deku, there’s no attempt on his part to say that it was Deku’s fault, that Deku shouldn’t have done this or that. he doesn’t blame his parents or his teachers or try to act like he didn’t know any better. he makes no attempt whatsoever to justify it. it’s just simple, honest truth. back then, I ignored my own weakness, so I ended up bullying him. it’s a plea of guilt. no attempt to mitigate it or downplay it. the verb he uses, “ijimeta”, doesn’t water it down.

“to ill-treat; to torment; to be cruel to.” there’s no attempt here to paint this in a flattering light at all. which is good. because in order for him to really atone for it, to really go the distance in his redemption arc which we’re all rooting for him to do, the most important step is for him to take responsibility. he can’t learn from it if he’s trying to hide from it or make excuses for what he did wrong. he has to fully acknowledge his mistakes. and that’s exactly what this is.

it shows remorse.

that’s right y’all. they sent my boy out to do an internship with Endeavor over the holidays, and he came back having learned the true meaning of Christmas. his heart really did grow three sizes. honey badger does care.

there is genuine, sincere remorse for his actions here. he’s sorry for what he did. he regrets what he did. there’s real contrition there. it’s not forced or insincere. again, nobody made him say this! nobody pressured him, nobody led him on. these are his own feelings. I bullied Deku. I shouldn’t have done that to him. I want to atone for it.

I know some people in fandom don’t think this is enough. the same thing happened with Endeavor as well. people aren’t always satisfied with restorative justice; they want retribution. they want punishment for his actions. and that’s a natural feeling; it stems back to that instinct of wanting everything to be fair, which I mentioned in another meta not too long ago.

but the thing is, retributive, punitive justice doesn’t actually help anyone. it doesn’t restore what was lost. Katsuki being punished doesn’t do anything to undo what was done to Deku. it doesn’t do anything to heal the harm that was dealt. it doesn’t do anything to make things better for either of them moving forward.

but do you know what does? restorative justice. making amends. which is exactly what this is building up to now.

it shows an understanding that remorse is not enough, and that in order to move forward he has to take action to be a better person.

Katsuki understands that simply being sorry for what he did is not enough. I suspect that’s one reason why he hasn’t attempted to apologize to Deku yet; because he recognizes that after years of tormenting him for stupid and self-centered reasons, a simple apology might seem meaningless at best and self-serving at worst. it puts pressure on Deku to make a decision to either accept or not accept it. Katsuki saw the Todoroki siblings struggling with a similar conflict not too long ago. and he knows better than anyone else how selfless Deku can be. “deep down, he doesn’t take himself into account, y’know?” and so if Katsuki simply apologizes, Deku might end up offering forgiveness that he doesn’t actually deserve, just because Deku is that kind of person who puts others above himself.

and so rather, what Katsuki has opted to do for now is to put all his efforts into helping Deku. he knows Deku is in a considerable amount of danger. he knows how much Deku has on his plate with the SIXQUIRKS and trying to handle all of that. and he knows there are other potential dangers looming which they don’t even know about yet. he’s been alert and anxious about this -- you saw how quickly his mind leaped to worst-case scenarios about the past OFA users; how he was sure that All Might was hiding something from them, and how agitated and apprehensive he got thinking about what that might be.

“I’m worried for him. you are, too,” All Might said. and Katsuki didn’t deny it. didn’t even try. he is worried about Deku. he’s worried about what he has to face. he’s worried about him getting in over his head and something happening to him. and so the way that he has chosen to try and atone is to help him. with his training, with his quirks; whatever he can do. if he needs to push him he’ll push him. whatever he can do to help make him stronger. and if he needs to protect him, he’ll do that too.

atonement is not the same thing as forgiveness. atonement is about trying to make up for what you did, to try and correct your mistakes however you can. it doesn’t mean you’re pardoned from them. all it means is that you’ve acknowledged them, and are doing your best -- doing whatever you can -- to repair the harm done, and to be a better person going forward. and sometimes there is no way to ever completely make up for it. sometimes you can’t undo the harm, because you can’t go back and change the past. the only thing you can change is the now, and the future.

and so Katsuki is trying to atone. he’s trying to be the friend Deku deserves now, since he wasn’t before. he’s trying his best to make things right, and it all starts with this one sentence. that acknowledgement of what he did, of what can’t be changed. acknowledgement of the mistake, so that he can learn from it, so that it never happens again.

so yeah. BnHA Redemption Arcs strike again. Horikoshi you smooth son of a bitch.

#bnha 284 #bakugou katsuki #all might #midoriya izuku #bakudeku #bnha meta #bakugou meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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fbfh · 3 years

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promptember day 11 - 2/2 draco x reader (mild enemies to lovers) - 40 smut

(aged to 18+ for nsfw content)

//reminder that in real life ‘being mean cause they like you’ doesn’t exist! This is fiction and everything is consensual! Tropes that are fine in fiction don’t always translate well to real life! Stay safe ily!//

You can’t seem to get away from Draco Malfoy. You’re constantly running into each other, ending up in the same classes, hell, the same empty hallways for miscellaneous sneaking around and various mischief.

It's not just that fate throws you two together a lot, it’s the way he looks at you, the way you always end up interacting. He scrutinizes you like he’s studying something, trying to crack a code, trying to see how all the pieces connect. Whenever you two talk, which is much more than acquaintances should, you seem to have his full attention in ways no one else does. He doesn’t even seem to focus on his homework as much as he does on you.

It’s a strange comparison, but it always reminds you of when the prince meets Cinderella in the marketplace. The way he so desperately wants to know her, know more about her. You see that same drive in Draco, and it makes you wonder if you could ever get along, ever understand each other.

Today, however, he’s really getting on your nerves. You’re trying to focus on your homework, and not feed into his little game of distracting you, but it’s not going well. You’ve had to physically bite your tongue three times to stop from saying something very impulsive and probably really rude. You’re doing better than usual at not giving him a reaction, but you can tell you’ll give in soon if he keeps this up.

He sits down next to you, leaning over and looking at what you’re writing, placing a hand idly on your shoulder.

“Your handwriting’s quite messy, isn’t it?”

Count to ten, you tell yourself, take deep breaths.

“And why do you write your a’s like that? It looks-”

“Fuck you, Malfoy!” You stand up, reeling around to yell at him, eyes piercing into his, widened in shock, “Is it really that hard to not mess with me every minute of the day?” You let out a laugh, getting closer to him.

“I guess I can’t even do homework now without tuning into the annoying blondes channel.”

He’s standing up now, too, and you refuse to be at all flustered by how much taller he is than you or how close you’re standing. You grab his tie, gently pulling him closer.

“Or are you just so obsessed with me-”

Before you can finish the sentence, your back is against the stone wall. Draco has you caged in, one arm up, the other wrapped around your waist.

“Yes.” he breathes. “About bloody time you noticed.”

Your face is burning hot, and you think back over the past few months. You squint, searching his face for insincerity. You find none.

“Have you been flirting with me this whole time?” you question, bewildered. He lets out a breathy, warm laugh, and you’re once again overwhelmed at having his undivided attention.

“Have you always been this oblivious?”

In an instant, all your feelings shift. The annoyance melts into infatuation, the irritation into excitement, the frustration into… a different kind of frustration.

Oh my god, have you and Draco been crushing on each other this whole time? Did everyone know except you?

You try to ignore the familiar tingling feeling building up, even though it’s almost unignorable already.

“What,” you ask, desperately trying not to come undone in front of him, not like this, “so, you like me or something?”

His face comes closer to yours somehow, hand caressing your cheek. His fingers are long and cool against your skin.

“Love,” he says, warm breath fanning against your skin, “I am utterly obsessed with you.”

He pulls back slightly, studying your face, waiting to see how you feel.

Before you can stop yourself, your hands are on his cheeks, pulling him close, pressing your lips to his. After a moment he does the same. You kiss each other with an enthusiastic hunger, just beginning to break the tension that’s been building for so long.

One hand on your jawline, the other ghosts down from your waist to your leg, sending electricity up your spine.

‘This isn’t what I had in mind when I yelled fuck you,’ you think, fighting a smile as he presses kisses down your neck, his touch addictive, and exactly what you need.

Your homework can definitely wait till later.

#draco x reader #harry potter x reader

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crystalkleure · 3 years

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🤝 !!!!!!!!!

Kyle Hakim and Evel Oxford!

These two did interact in canon, and quite a lot, it's just that they were so private about it and task-oriented the whole time that we ended up...surprisingly never really outright seeing much of it. But they clearly spend a huge amount of time communicating with eachother, even when not physically near eachother, and they work extremely well and efficiently together.

And I got to thinking real hard about them months ago and realized something that promptly broke my heart, but I only dumped the huge text wall on Discord at the time, so now it's time to finally cross-post it here:

You know how Evel's like "I Very Blatantly don't give a fuck damn about any of you people or anything else for that matter, I only care about my Beyblade Science"? I've thought a lot before about how Hearts behaves in relation to this, Hearts deliberately surrounds himself with people that explicitly either don't care about him or want to Actively Aggrieve Him somehow, because growing up with Phi fucked him up and that's just another manifestation of his whole "Hurt me! I want you to hurt me, so I can prove I'm STRONG when it doesn't stop me! Kick me down so I can spit in your face when I stand back up! It makes me feel powerful!" thing. But what about Kyle?

Dog Boy is Evel's dog. Evel's the guy Kyle was working for and texting all that time, Kyle fucked off and disappeared as soon as Evel did, etcetera. Evel is the person Kyle is loyal to, not Hearts or Phi.

And Kyle wears that mask. Kyle doesn't like to be Seen and Perceived. Kyle doesn't like to be paid attention to. At least, not in a personal way. He has great fun aggravating Xhan, but bedeviling Xhan did not reveal any personal details of himself to Xhan. In fact, it was all exaggerated insincere theatrics on Kyle's part, just for the sake of some Funny Chaos. Kyle puts up a fake face almost all the time when interacting with other people, quite literally hiding his real face behind a mask.

...Because Kyle evidently can't control his facial expressions very well and explicitly doesn't like how Seeing His Face gives away what he's thinking. He doesn't like people just, like...Observing And Acknowledging Him. He's either really self-conscious or just really reserved and private or both. The presence of his shit-ton of rather striking face tattoos -- which detract so heavily from his actual facial features, and yet he STILL covers it all up with the mask anyway as though he wasn't satisfied with even that -- seems to indicate that he is deeply dissatisfied with his own natural physical appearance, and thus self-conscious about his looks on top of being extremely private about his true emotions.

And Evel...won't pay attention to him. At least, not on a personal level -- Evel does not become personally emotionally attached to other people. Evel just wants Kyle to be useful. Evel doesn't care about Kyle himself so much as he cares about what Kyle can do for him, and Kyle is dutifully helping him complete his Fucked Up Beyblade Frankenstein Science Task. It...makes sense...that Kyle apparently likes that. That fits like a glove with his characterization, and WOW that's fucked up.

Kyle wants social contact/companionship without the vulnerability of a true relationship, and Evel wants a helpful lackey. It's a perfect, dysfunctional symbiosis.

Kyle wants his True Actual Self underneath the facade he puts out to be ignored, and Evel only cares about the shallow surface level "how can I use you" aspect of other people, so he will gladly not dig deeper. Fuck, I'm sad.

I do wonder about Evel, too. He's quite open about supposedly not giving a shit about other people, Only His Science, but I wonder if he's truly not capable of emotionally connecting, or if he's just deliberately refusing to. Is this a Gwyn And Naoki Type Of Situation, where he's so absorbed in his work that he feels that if he DID try to get close to another person, they'd end up feeling, well, ignored, and thus they'd inevitably get frustrated with him and leave? In that case, he probably -- on some level, without necessarily even admitting it to himself -- actually really adores Kyle, because Kyle is the perfect solution to that fear. Kyle LIKES to be ignored! Being ignored is specifically what keeps Kyle around! That's the ideal companion for a guy who is Bitterly And Cynically resigned to the fact that other people will always feel emotionally neglected by him!

Damn, that's painful. I love all the Dead Gran guys so much, they're all such a fucking wreck.

#PAIN. PAIN AND SUFFERING. MY BOYS.#.Replies #Miss Gumita #BeyBurst #Beyblade Burst #Beyblade Burst Chouzetsu #Kyle Hakim #Evel Oxford #CK dissects #I wonder if Kyle maybe got bullied for his appearance a lot in the past. That might be an implication here.#He does get Ugly Jokes made about him when the mask comes off...#Everyone looked at Gumita like she was crazy when she said he was handsome #Ah...fear of being heckled for his face...Kyle......Son Boy...........;_;

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divinexxchaos · 2 years

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INBOX || @erncst

““ you deserve better. ” - To Nicole“

Nicole Winters x Jess Mariano

Nicole wasn’t one for PITY PARTIES. Not that she thought that Jess was throwing her one, or that he was insincere with his words. In fact, it was because she KNEW he was sincere that she was bothered. People didn’t just say things like that if they didn’t mean it. At least, she hoped it wasn’t some attempt to make her FEEL BETTER, because she didn’t feel any better at all. Her hand lowers to pull up the shoulder of her flannel to cover the nasty scar that had started this whole conversation. He had seen it now, so covering it seemed pointless, but she did it anyway as if it would somehow make her feel less emotionally naked. She hadn’t told Jess everything. She hadn’t told him about her siblings, that it wasn’t just her, that she had been their primary caregiver for so long. She had told him that her mother left, abandoned her to start a new family and that her father...well it had CHANGED him. She hadn’t outright said to Jess the things that he had done to her, but it had been made pretty clear and Jess was smart. He could connect the dots, she was sure with his words that he already had. She didn’t tell him that her mother had come back and taken the only family Nicole had left from her, that Jared and Sara were her life for SO long and now she didn’t even know how to breathe without them. Nicole was the only child her mother didn’t want, and perhaps if she had been better, done more, maybe her mother would have never left.

“I deserve better?” She echoed, shaking her head at him in disbelief. “How would you know the first thing about what I deserve? Everything that I’ve been through happened BECAUSE of something that I did. If I had just done more, talked less, not argued with him. If I had just been enough, been better, maybe she wouldn’t have left. Losing my mother DEVASTATED my father, and its my fault that she left. How can you say I deserved better when I am the one who caused all the ruin in my life?” She was starting to sound much too poor me for her liking, so she swallowed the lump in her throat and ignored the ITCH in her eyes. “It’s not like it matters anyway.” Not like she mattered anyway, “you don’t have to tell me what you think I want to hear, fuck you don’t even have to sit and listen to me. I don’t even know why you just listened to all of that, I just...” her voice was WEAK & QUIET, “I just can sit here and listen to you tell me I deserve better when I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

#I had this all typed out #and it was so much better before #but then tumblr ate my reply #idk where it went #im so sorry #but #i hope this is okay #even though it was my second go #lol #<3 #&&*answered // nicole #erncst

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kurlyfrasier · 3 years

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The Plan: Step Four (final)

Raph x Reader

Synopsis: Reader has a plan to win her favorite terrapin over. Step Four: This wasn’t part of his plan.

Warnings: some violence, somewhat dark raph (although I think I’d really enjoy some dark!Raph. Know anyone who writes that?)

Word Count: 2281

You weren’t paying attention as you walked home from a leisurely day in the lair- even if it did start kind of rough. Your thoughts ranged from Layla’s insincere words to a game you couldn’t seem to beat Mikey in. You thought maybe he had figured a way to cheat and had yet to share his insights. Then you thought about churrs, causing an unconscious smile to grace your lips. Raph hadn’t churred all day, though- which turned your smile into a frown.

“Hey there, girlie,” a rough voice said next to you, stopping you cold as you held your breath. “I liked that smile.”

“Yeah, me too, Vinny,” another stated behind you, his footsteps heavy on the pavement, his voice sinister. “I bet we can make her smile again. Whaddya think?”

“Real pretty like?” The first voice you assumed to be Vinny, snickered. “Ya really think so, Jim?”

Blood rushed in your ears as your breathing turned rapid and eyes raked over your surroundings in a panic. It had gotten dark on your trek home and you may have passed it a block or two back- you weren’t certain because you didn’t travel the opposite way of the lair very often. Not only had you passed your home, but you seemed to have turned into an unfamiliar alley. One that reeked of liquor and urine. So definitely not the best alley you could have wandered into.

“Yeah,” Jim chuckled, sounding closer, close enough for you to feel his body heat behind you. The eerie sound gave you chills. “I bet her scream sounds like a siren’s call, too.”

On some unknown reflex, you elbowed Jim in the stomach, sidestepped away from Vinny, and spun to face the so-called men in a fighting stance- the cold, rough brick behind you a comforting presence. The move surprised you and your wide eyes proved that.

“Oh-ho!” Vinny laughed as he nudged his doubled-over, hacking friend with a menacing grin. “She’s a feisty one.”

Jim spit at your feet. “Good. I like to tame them-”

“Do ya hear that?”

You strained your ears and steadied your breathing, hoping the rush of blood would go silent.

“Wha-”

“Shh!” Vinny put a finger up to his lips, eyes wide and frantic with fear. “I swear I hear-”

The pavement beneath your feet vibrated and that’s when you noticed the deep, rumbling, growly noise coming from the shadows behind the men. Whatever it was, wasn’t human and had your heart rate beating wildly in your chest.

“Ya promised, Swee’heart,” the baritone growl forced your eyes to focus up and into the shadows, latching onto familiar, furious green eyes. You ignored the new nickname, thinking it was the anger talking. His voice was deeper than you had ever heard. His gaze promised retribution. For the first time since you had met him, you were scared. Scared of what he was capable of. Scared the men before you may not see tomorrow. Scared of his fury and what it meant for you.

“Hey!” One of the men shouted, already facing away from you. “We found her first.”

“Yeah! Go find your own b-”

A hand reached into the dim light. Three-fingered and deep green wrapped onto the talking man’s neck, squeezing just enough to shut him up. The man automatically grabbed the wrist the hand was attached to- a sad attempt to free himself. His friend stood statue still and silent as he stared at the mutated hand.

“Ya promised ya wouldn’ go lookin’ fer trouble,” Raph said, slow and meticulous, eyes never straying from your own as the ground continued to vibrate beneath your feet. “An’ I tried stayin’ away, Swee’heart. I really did. But these lowlives kep’ talkin’ an’ I didn’ like wha’ they were sayin’.”

The statue moved, but Raph grabbed the back of his shirt in a flash. The man squeaked.

“Nuh-uh. Where do ya think yer goin’?” Raph held him in place. Now that he was facing you, you saw it was Vinny who tried to run. “She’s been workin’ real hard learnin’ how ta fight,” his eyes gleamed. “It would be a shame if she didn’ get ta practice.”

You cocked your head, slightly confused, arms long ago fell to your sides. Was Raph saying to hit the man?

“Ya elbowed this guy pretty good earlier,” Raph shook the man he held by the neck and you were certain he was going to pass out at any moment. Raph smirked. “Thought ya might like a chance ta hit this guy too.”

“R-really?” Your voice shook. You weren’t much of a violent person, but you had been curious if Raph’s praise during practice was truthful. Plus, it felt great defending yourself a bit ago.

“Yeah. Wide stance, remembah?”

You nodded, a gleam in your eyes as you got into a fighting stance.

Raph somehow grunted in approval over what you had, by now, figured out to be another one of his churrs. “Do me a favor, though. Only hit ‘im once. I don’ wantchya ta hurt yaself.”

You gave him a half nod, pulling your arm back and aimed for Vinny’s eye. Bone crunched under bone. Your arm vibrated from the contact and you pulled back, shaking the sharp pain out of your hand and wrist, causing more pain than you thought it would. When you looked up you saw you missed Vinny’s eye and instead, jabbed his nose. Vinny was groaning in pain, hands filling with blood as Raph chuckled, still holding the men in their place.

“Good hit, Swee’heart,” Raph tossed Jim into the side of the building and he slumped onto the ground in silence. Then Raph jabbed Vinny in the temple, knocking him out and dropped him on the ground before crossing the alley.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Raph stood in front of you, unable to stop the protective churr that still hadn’t quietened down even though the threat was literally passed out on the pavement. He had a feeling it wouldn’t stop unless he took you to the lair- where he knew you would be safe- and had Donnie check your wrist.

“C’mon,” Raph lifted you up into his arms and made his way to the roof. He stayed silent, aside from the churring, and was comforted by the fact that you wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his shoulder as he hopped roof to roof until they arrived at the manhole closest to the lair. Reluctantly, he set you down, knowing he couldn’t hold you and enter the sewers at the same time. Immediately after he closed the manhole up he lifted you back into his arms and held you close. Thankfully, you didn’t protest. He never wanted to let you go. Pride filled his chest as he remembered the move you pulled the same moment one of the thugs reached for you. Not that you saw what that lowlife was doing, but the dread that filled Raph as he watched was a memory he would never forget. It made his blood boil, you being in danger. He was happy now that you had convinced him to teach you how to fight.

Now in the lair, he strode straight for Donnie’s lab, his obnoxious churring catching everyone’s attention as he walked by. They didn’t dare follow him. Not even Leo.

“Donnie,” Raph’s voice was demanding as he walked into the lab. “I need ya ta check Y/n’s hand an’ wrist.”

“I’m not touching her,” Donnie stated, backing into the wall, hands up in surrender as Raph sat you on the table.

“What. Why not?” He growled along with his churring, never taking his eyes off of you, a hand rested on your knee.

“Your churr, bro. I’d rather keep my shell in one piece, thanks.”

“I won’t hurtchya, I promise,” Raph gritted out, squeezing your knee without realizing it, still not moving his gaze from you.

“Raph,” you rested a hand on his, causing his grip to loosen, and the other on his chest. “I’m okay, see?” You moved your wrist and fingers to prove nothing was broken. You barely even winced, but he saw it and it kicked his churr up a notch in volume.

“Donn-”

“Please, Raphie?” Your plea had his heart skipping a beat, your eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I promise I’m okay. Please don’t be mad anymore-”

“Mad?” Both brothers spoke in shock.

“I’m not mad, Swee’heart. I’m-I-” Raph ripped his gaze away from you and looked to his brother for help. He didn’t know how to express that he just wanted you by his side. That he wanted you safe and away from danger. That he couldn’t live without you. That he’ll always be there to protect you. That you didn’t need to fight because he vows he will always be with you in whatever capacity you deem him worthy of. That you were never leaving his sight again if he had any say in the matter.

“He’s not mad, Y/n. Although, I could see why you would think that considering how domineering his protective churr is.”

“Protective?” Your face scrunched in confusion.

“Yes,” Donnie nodded and Raph looked back to you, never wanting to look at anything other than your beauty for eternity. “He wants to keep you safe and, in his eyes, the only thing he deems good enough to protect you is himself. Honestly, I’ve never seen him like this so I’m worried that if I touch you, he’d try to kill me.”

“Kill you-” Your furrowed brows raised in surprise. “Raph you didn’t?”

“No,” he held your gaze with confidence. He may not have killed those men in the alley, but he wanted to. His entire being begged him to squeeze the life out of one and crush the other, but he didn’t. He was worried you may never want to have anything to do with him again if he did and that thought kept him refrained.

“That’s good,” you breathed out. “So now what?”

“Donnie’s gonna check ya out,” Raph unconsciously rubbed his hand up and down your thigh in a soothing gesture. More for himself than for you. Touching you proved you were alive. That you were there- with him.

“Not with you in here, he isn’t.”

“Well I’m not gonna leave ya,” he rasped barely above his churr, leaving the sentence hanging. You now knew what this particular churr meant, he didn’t need to say it.

“Yes-”

“No way in-”

“Raph,” you cupped his face in your hands. His eyes closed at your gentle touch. “If you want Donnie to check my hand, you’re going to have to leave the room.” His eyes flashed open at the suggestion.

“No-”

“Five minutes.”

“Fiv-”

“No-”

“Minut-”

“No-”

“I promise.”

Your words made him pause for a beat. His churring the only sound to be heard. Donnie still hadn’t moved.

Two.

“Ya said that before, Swee’heart.”

“Donnie isn’t going to hurt me, Raphie,” the nickname made his heart soar even as your hands fell to your lap. “You know this. And you know I didn’t go looking for danger.”

“Tha’s not what it looked like ta me,” Raph saw the confusion cross over your face. “Ya walked past yer place and cut through three alleys headin’ who-knows-where before ya entered that last alley an’ those guys saw yer pretty little smile.”

Your eyes widened in shock as your cheeks turned into his favorite shade of pink before you finally stuttered out your question. “Y-you think I h-have a pr-pretty smile?”

He tucked some hair behind your ear. “Yeah, Dum-dum-”

“And you wanna keep me safe?” Your voice was determined this time, a certain gleam in your eye that had always frightened him. You looked as if you had connected more dots than he had ever planned to let you connect.

“Y-yeah-”

“Then why am I not your Layla!?”

“My Layla? Oh-”

“Yeah! I’ve learned how to fight. I had to freeze my butt off just so you would be forced to lend me a shirt! I-”

“Ya did what?” His sharp tone shut you up and had you looking to Donnie for help. So Raph blocked your view of his brother, smirking down at you. “Y/n, ya can borrow my shirt any time. No need for a ruse.”

“Fine,” you huffed. “But that still doesn’t explain why we- w-why we aren’t y-you know?”

“Togetha?” Raph finished for you, a small smile on his lips.

“Yeah,” you whispered, looking down at your lap, thumbs fiddling.

“‘Cause I nevah thought ya would wan’ somethin like me,” Raph answered, voice hoarse, his churring much quieter than before.

“Like you? Raph, I’ve liked you for months!” You exasperated, clearly frustrated he didn’t get the memo.

“Ya deserve more than me-”

“No! Don’t you dare do that, Raph,” you gave him a pointed look.

“But ya do-”

“Oh yeah? Then who do you think could protect me better than you?”

Raph stayed quiet, unwilling to answer that. He was certain nobody could protect you better than him, but that wouldn’t help him convince you otherwise.

“Exactly,” you whispered out before tugging him down by the edge of his plastron. Surprising him with your soft lips against his own.

~~~

Donnie never did check your hand that night and Raph’s churring didn’t stop for the next few days; going back and forth between his deep, growly protective churr and his rumbly happy churr- depending on who was close by. Layla claimed she became stifled because she was always stuck in the lair and was never able to go on any ‘proper’ dates, which eventually led to her breaking up with Leo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Oh gosh...I had to write the little “L” word lol and I added in a tiny kiss too! I usually try not to do that lol Idk why cuz I like to read them lol but whatever. I hoped you like this! :D

Want to read more by me? Masterlist

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miss-bvnny · 3 years

Text

Yet another fan tweaks up TLK 2 and TLG: The Squeakel.

Im bored and in a lil pain. time to jot down all my personal ideas/headcanons for how I'd polish up TLK 2 and TLG to fit with the first movie a bit better, and create something more cohesive since like only about 3 people on the TLK2 and TLG teams paid attention to the first movie. I've seen a lot of hedcanons and AUS and whatnot in my day so I've kinda got a good idea of what i like and what I think might work better. Veteran TLK creators please interact with me and gib feedeback on my sick tricks

Uhhh TW for abuse and cub death

So...while there's TECHNICALLY nothing I'd change about the first movie, as it's pretty much done and solid, I wanted to play with my ideas for Zira's backstory.

YES in my version it'd be a one-sided love, kinda like how DemiiDee on dA and Silver-Wolf-17/@mask-of-prime see it, Scar knew she was obsessed with him since the day she met him as a cub, and took advantage of that. After he became king, he wanted loyal lionesses just in case Sarabi, Nala, Sarafina and the others got wise and rebelled. Zira and her pride sisters were all starving, and he knew that. He welcomed them in, promising food and comfort in return for their loyalty. Zira didn't hesitate to agree, and Scar loved her blind adoration of him. He WOULD have liked it if someone like Sarafina was so blindly in love with him (Scar had a gross unrequited obsessive crush on Sarafina growing up, and he constantly held it against her after she chose to be with Nala's father Mega instead. This is another reason why he was so hard on the hunting parties. He used his position as king to get petty revenge on childhood bullies and the like). Scar decided Zira would be his queen but like...ONLY because Sarafina had already made her choice. Zira didn't care, and knew she'd make Scar proud and produce a lot of wonderful heirs for him, in order to repay him for ''all he'd done for her'' (A very thin and insincere ''all'' if you ask me). So, Zira gets pregnant with who will eventually be Nuka, but...Rafiki takes a look at her and sees she's very weak and will probably only have one cub. Oh well. Let's just hope this one son is a suitable heir in Scar's eyes.

....Well-

Nuka's born. Weak, unfocused, and not at all what Scar wanted or was hoping for. He TRIES to teach Nuka and raise him as an Heir, but...it just doesn't work. Scar believes he was destined for greatness and for a prosperous, strong lineage. Nuka is none of those things, and it seems Zira will never be able to give him another heir (I KNOW the ''This woman can't have kids'' trope is icky but HOLD ON wait until you see where I'm going with this) Scar disowns Nuka and scolds Zira for disappointing him. Zira begs for his forgiveness, and swears on her life she'll find a way to make things worth Scar's while.

During this time, several of the male cubs who were born around the same time as Simba are being exiled. Scar doesn't want any males around to threaten overtaking him, and nips the problem in the bud before it ever becomes an issue. Many pride sister saw him doing this, and while they disagreed with it...it DID offer one bonus: Trustworthy males were leaving for better lands. They could take the new young cubs with them, since none of the sisters wanted their children to be raised in Scar's Pridelands.

Surprisingly, one of these lionesses trying to save her cubs...was Zira. Within the last few months, she'd...began to realize perhaps she was looking at Scar with rose-colored glasses. She was beginning to wonder if perhaps she was wrong to worship him the way she did. The thoughts were still kinda...new, and she wasn't sure what to do. But, during all her confusion, she DID happen to meet another male lion. Mpendwa, (Swahili for ''Honey'') was an old friend from her teenage years who was a wanderer by nature. Zira was VERY happy to see him again, after all these years. She met with him in secret, when Scar and the Hyenas weren't looking, and began to fall in love with him. REAL love. Mutual good love, where he loved her for who she was, and NOT what she could give him. Even Nuka seemed to like him, too! And...by some miracle, Zira and Mpendwa had a secret litter together! Four beautiful, healthy little cubs! It was perfect. SO perfect. Perhaps the problem had lain not in Zira, but in Scar the entire time. It served as more confirmation to Zira that...perhaps she was in the wrong to love him. Mpendwa asked her if she and their four cubs would come with him. Somewhere far and somewhere safe, where they could be happy together. Zira...was hesitant, afraid of disappointing Scar further, and even more afraid to leave her pride sisters behind. They were in this because of her, and...there were so many of them that it'd be impossible to get all of them out without Scar seeing something was up. Nevertheless, she knew she had to think about the future of her cubs, and NOT about Scar. She agreed, and plans were made for Zira and Nuka to meet Mpendwa at the border with her four cubs. In the dead of night, they'd leave using the rest of the evacuating males as a cover so they could make a clean getaway.

....Well...to make a very heartbreaking and gruesome story short...Scar knew about Mpendwa the entire time. And of course he saw Zira was pregnant. He overheard their plains to escape, and prepared accordingly. Mpendwa and three of Zira's cubs were killed as punishment for her disloyalty and attempt at mutiny. He lets her keep the youngest one alive as a reminder of her shortcomings, but ONLY if she'll swear her loyalty to him once more. With nothing else left to do, she swore her allegiance to him, and returned to the Pridelands with only Vitani and Nuka left of her family. In the coming days and months, Scar turns up the charm to further entice Zira, making sure she and Vitani are given the best of everything and taken care of, to ensure she feels terrible about what she did and she never acts out again. Sadly, it works, and Zira falls back in love with him, realizing SHE was the one in the wrong, and was an utter fool to betray Scar. Things are....steady for a while. Not bad, not good, but...steady for Zira and Scar. He of course ignores both cubs, and Zira has to reach out to him pleadingly if she wants to connect with him. Zira works as a willing mouthpiece to spout propaganda tot he rest of the pride, assuring then Scar is a GREAT king, their ONLY king, and that he will usher in a new golden age for them all. It pleases Scar and he is sure to...ever so slightly reciprocate his gratitude to her. If only to keep her totally convinced to stay with him. Zira can see he's...flaky and not too sure about her, and decides she MUST act fast to show him she is worthy.

She MUST somehow produce him a viable heir. And quickly. But with all the other males gone, there's not a whole lot of cubs being born. And her beloved Mpendwa is long dead. So...she has to figure something else out. One day, while hunting for Vitani and Nuka on her own, she runs across a skinny dark brown lone lioness taking a dead zebra somewhere. She tells Nuke and Vitani to wait, and begins to stalk this female, named Jibu (''Answer'') Jibu takes her kill to a secluded spot, and Zira notices she's having trouble catching her breath. It doesn't take Zira long to see...Jibu is pregnant. VERY pregnant, and close to giving birth. GIVING birth, actually! She's going into labor. Jibu cries out for mercy, knowing she is alone and there is no one around to help her. Zira, in a moment of maternal instinct and compassion, helps her. She, along with Nuka and Vitani, stay by Jubi's side as she gives birth to one little brown cub. Then, Zira gets...a really really REALLY terrible idea, just looking at the little cub. Calmly, she tells Vitani and Nuka that Jibu will need some water, and that they need to bring some back for her in some fresh moss. It's a big job, and the cubs are BOTH very willing to help. Vitani and Nuka leave on their big mission, and then Zira, Jibu, and the new cub are left alone.

Zira is quick about it. Merciful, even. By the time Nuka and Vitani get back, Jibu is dead. Zira sorrowfully tells the cubs that...the birthing process was simply too much for a weak and skinny loner like her, and that there was nothing at all that could have been done. Nuka asks what they're going to do with the cub, and Zira says she SUPPOSES they could take it back to the pride, as well as the zebra Jibu just killed. They return to the pridelands with food, and...Zira presents the cub to Scar. She tells him that his mother gave birth on the edge of the territory, before succumbing to her dehydration and fatigue. Scar looks the cub over, and is overjoyed. He declares THIS cub, this Kovu, WILL be his heir.

So, time passes, and before you know it, Simba returns. The TRUE Pridelanders rise up and reclaim their land. In the wake of his return, Zira's pride sisters see the error of their ways, and oppose the hyenas in battle. Scar is overthrown, and Simba takes his place as King. Zira is of course horrified, outraged, and...filled with a turmoil of emotions about it. Some part of her feels...free that Scar is gone, but the rest of her was so twisted by his words that she doesn't want to admit she's happy he's dead. She chokes those feelings down, trying to sit still and look pretty for Simba as he moves in. Nuka, Vitani, and little Kovu are doing well, and...as a mother that's all she should care about, really. But...deep down inside, there's a growing, growling, burning need for revenge in her soul.

As Kovu grows a little bigger and the pridelands heal more, Simba and Nala announce the birth of their OWN heir.....Kopa. Yep. Yes. That's right, I'm a Kopa theorist. Upsetting, I know. But like....it makes sense. Look at how overprotective and suffocating Simba was to Kiara in TLK 2. Almost like he'd dealt with tragedy in relation to a cub before, and vowed to never let it happen again. Huh. If YOU'RE reading this and you have no idea who Kopa is and the drama behind his very existence, first of all God I wish I was you, secondly, go here to learn what then entire TLK fandom is divided over:

https://disney.fandom.com/wiki/Kopa

Anyway, Kopa is begins to grow and learn as the next king of Pride Rock, good friends with Nuka and Vitani, and even their cute little brother Kovu. He's not...VERY old right now, but he'll grow and be able to play with them one day! Their mom, Zira, seems....a little upset about stuff. She always watches them from afar, never engages with the rest of the Pride, and doesn't seem to like Simba. Kopa, as a young kid determined to be a great king, takes a note to keep an eye on this. She might be really old, but she's part of his father's kingdom. Everyone else is happy and healthy, she should be too, right? Simba and Nala seem...worried about her as well. For different reasons, but yeah.

Ever the hunter and woman scorned, Zira has been...studying Kopa. He's young and naive, but...eager to learn and take over for his father. He's studious and intuitive, often finding trouble without meaning to, because he was trying to solve a problem or get involved in pride politics. Of course, all the other lions and creatures love him, and are eager to see him grow into a fine future king. There s NO doubt he's a jewel in his family's crown. But...he is still a cub. Zira remembers how devastated she was to lose Vitani's three siblings, and knows that Simba and Nala will be equally devastated if....something happens to Kopa. She knows exactly how she's going to avenge Scar now.

Simba and Nala were out on a little moonlight hunt together one night, like they enjoyed to do together. They were coming back to Pride Rock afterwards, only to hear a terrible commotion. Zazu rushed to meet them, telling of something terrible that had just happened: Zira tried to assassinate the young prince. Her pride sisters were now in arms against Sarabi and her pride sisters, trying to stop an attempted uprising. Simba and Nala quickly joined in to fight, Simba finding Zira with Kopa in her jaws. He stops her, and Timon and Pumbaa are quick to get Kopa to Rafiki for healing. Simba and Nala face off against Zira while she gives her side of the story. telling about how she's tired of being docile and pretending her heart isn't broken after Simba and Nala both took everything from her. Simba and Nala both see she's still...terribly twisted by Scar's words, trying to be patient but firm with her as they attempt to talk her down. She won't have it, and leaps at Simba, Nala gets involved, and they fight her off. Simba calls for her banishment, and she is thrown out of the Pridelands with the rest of her followers, and her three cubs.

During all of this, Rafiki is attending to Kopa and his injuries. They're...bad, but not fatal. With time, he'll be just fine. Zira left him blind in one eye, gave him a terribly ripped ear, nearly tore his tail off, and he's got a deep throat scar that will alter his voice quite a bit. With time he'll be alright physically, but...I'm not so sure about mentally. Kopa has...a LOT of PTSD over it. blaming himself for how he thought Zira was a friend he could help, wondering if he was stupid for never seeing her anger sooner. He begins to question his abilities as a future king. Yes, he's still young, and accidents happen, but...this event has left him a bit jaded all the same. Simba and Nala see it, and...want to do the best for their son. They can see the enthusiasm in his eyes to one day be king fading. It's devastating. And...while Simba isn't about to give up on him, he doesn't want to force Kopa into something he...clearly doesn't want to do anymore. On top of that...Simba fears Kopa may not be safe in the Pridelands anymore. Zira and her followers ARE in the Outlands, but...Zira is bold and full of hate. There's no telling what she could do next. After a lot of deliberation, meeting with Zazu, Nala, and Kopa...the king comes to a conclusion. He strips Kopa of his title as an heir, and sends him to live in the Oasis with Ma, Uncle Max, and the rest of Timon's family. He'll be safe and well-fed there, far away from Zira. It'll only be for a while, until the trouble with the outlanders settles down, and until Kopa is ready to return home. Kopa agrees to the idea whole-heartledy, and departs for the Oasis as soon as he's fit to travel. It's...painful and hard, but it's the best option for their son's mental health. Simba and Nala do visit often, and are glad to see it DOES seem to be working.

Okay. So Zira tried to kill Kopa in the name of Scar, got herself booted, and the origins of her three cubs have been dealt with. That's all the Zira/Scar and Kopa backstory stuff done and dealt with. I'm gonna cut it right here since this is gettin awful lengthy, and continue with TLK 2 and The Lion Guard in a part 2. Keep an eye out for that one.

#the lion king #the lion king 2 #neato after dark

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poguesofthebau · 4 years

Text

dance partners

requested by: @danicarosaline (literally forever ago bc i suck)

summary: you and jj had been besties for as long as the rest of the pogues, but everyone always thought it was strictly platonic. one night at a kegger, though, your relationship with the blonde changes drastically. (we love a lil friends-to-lovers moment!) word count: 2.9k

“this is gonna be an epic night, guys.”

“jj,” you said, rolling your eyes with a light laugh. “you say that on the way to every kegger. we all know you’re just excited to get fucked up.” the rest of the pogues chimed in, agreeing with you as jj flipped you off. the walk to the kegger was longer than most people would be willing to trek, but it was always your favorite part of the night. walking from the Chateau to the Boneyard was one of those little things that probably wouldn’t mean much to anyone else, but times when you could simply bicker and laugh with your best friends meant the world to you.

“y/n, you need to learn to look forward to these kinds of things. you only live once, you know.” he reached out to you, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side as the other hand, in the shape of a fist, lightly ruffled the top of your head. you grabbed the hand that was resting on your shoulder, spinning yourself out of his gentle grip and conveniently forgetting to remove your hand from jj’s when you were free of his hold. to your left, kie, pope, and john b were exchanging suspicious glances, immediately noticing the lingering touch between their friends. kie snorted in surprise, but other than that, they all kept their mouths shut.

soon enough, the five of you had arrived to the scene of the party. within a few minutes of getting there, you all had red solo cups in hand, spreading out on the beach to mingle a little. after kie got her first refill, always having been the quickest drinker of the pogues, you two broke off from the boys, arms linked together as you roamed around the beach. somehow there was music flooding the beach, and neither you nor kie could stop yourselves from letting out a few dance moves to the songs you knew. you chatted and laughed at the antics of the already drunk teenagers scattering the sand, pointing out those who were doing the funniest shit. “okay, wait. we can’t laugh at those girls,” kie said, nodding toward two kook girls who were clearly too far gone, dancing messily with each other. a small flock of guys had begun to cheer the two on, but they seemed too busy enjoying each other’s company to notice. “that’s gonna be us in like, an hour.” you both laughed loudly, clinking your cups together before downing the rest of their contents without anymore words.

once you had emptied your cup, you turned to figure out how far you’d strayed from where the keg sat. as you scanned the beach, your eyes met jj’s, immediately earning a smile from your friend along with a raise of his own cup. you flipped yours upside down with a joking pout, indicating to the blonde that you were already out of ammo. he waved for you to come over to him, and you nodded with a smile before holding up a finger and turning back to kiara. before you could say anything, you noticed the sudden amused glint in her eye and she began to talk. “pope and jb are making fools of themselves again. i’m gonna go get in on that. i’ll catch up with you later?” you laughed at the two boys she had pointed out, both seemingly trying to limbo without reason.

“yeah, i got jj, so i’ll find you later. good luck with the other morons!” and with that you were parting ways, kie heading straight as you turned and made your way over to jj. “you gonna get me a refill or what, pogue?”

jj bowed sarcastically, grabbing your cup and falling into step beside you as you moved toward the keg. “it’d be my genuine honor, princess.” you scoffed at the nickname, bumping jj’s hip with your own. once again, his arm found its way around your shoulders, and the two of you swayed clumsily over to the source of the beer. “two refills, dude,” jj called to the kid manning the keg. once your cups were full again, you and jj found yourselves a seat in the heart of the chaos, perched on a fallen tree branch that some other pogues were standing in front of. as you laughed at the scene playing out before you (a bunch of touron guys standing in the middle of a circle of people doing ‘parkour’), jj watched you with a smile. the two of you bantered a little, mocking the actions of the people around you as you tried to ignore the feeling of his eyes burning into you. after a few minutes of trying to avoid his glance, you finally gave in. when you caught his eye, the glance you expected to exchange was not at all what you got. in all honesty, you’d never really seen jj with that expression. he looked... smitten. you raised your eyebrows at him, laughing again. “are you laughing at me now? don’t you know better?”

your eyes widened at the question, your cup-less hand immediately coming up to his chest to hold him back from any attacks. “no,” you corrected. “i’m laughing at your face, because i think it might be broken or something. you can’t make a face like that and expect me to take it normally. don’t you know better?” you were leaning into him tauntingly as you spoke, smiles spreading across both of your faces as you did.

“y/n,” jj teased back. “are you trying to get me to kiss you? hm?” your hand then fell from his chest, and you let out a scoff. jj, on the other hand, wasn’t satisfied with that being the end of the conversation. he lifted a hand to flick back a piece of hair that had fallen onto your shoulder, and that same hand somehow found its way to the side of your face. though you were still smirking confidently and comfortably, your insides were getting all sorts of twisted up. what was he doing? was this whole thing still just a joke? “i don’t know if you know this, but, if you are, you don’t have to try that hard. kinda don’t have to try at all.” jj was now wearing an expression you recognized. it was his i’m hot, and i pull girls, and i know it expression. for some reason, that pissed you off a little. slightly offended, you knocked his hand away from your face, turning back to face the tourons. you felt his gaze linger on you, but before either of you could do or say anything else, the rest of the pogues had materialized before you.

all three of them decently drunk at that point, john b and kie were laughing hysterically as pope dazedly looked between you and jj. hopping down from the tree branch and taking a step toward them, you decided to ignore pope’s obviously noticing that something had just happened. “what’s so funny?” you asked, internally hoping whatever they were giggling at would be enough to lift your spirits again. while they explained the joke they couldn’t get over, you essentially downed your second drink. at the tail end of the explanation, jb and kie both broke into more laughter, and this time you joined them. when the laughter faded, you spoke again, this time only to kie. “come get a refill with me?”

kiara looped her arm through yours, nodding with a smile. “of course! we’re off!”

after one more fleeting look at jj (a glance he caught, and even tried to hold), you and kie were walking away. against your own will, you let out a sigh, shoulders slumping a little as you replayed the past few minutes in your head. this time, you got a refill and remained standing by the keg, kie next to you with a drunk but concerned pout on her face. ignoring her, you downed your third drink within a minute, quickly stepping back up for another. that’s a bit better, you found yourself thinking as all the drinks seemed to hit you at once. turning to kie, you smiled insincerely. “what are you thinking about, my little drunk?” her eyebrows knitted together at the question, her head tilting knowingly. she was asking you the same thing. letting out a puff of air, you rolled your eyes but explained yourself nonetheless. “i’m fine! jj just like... implied that he wanted to kiss me or something. i’m just confused, i guess.”

“honey, i just watched you down a cup and a half of beer that you don’t even like. i may be a little bit drunker than you, but i think you’re something other than confused.” her arms crossed insistently across her chest, some of the liquid in her cup falling onto her arm in the process. she giggled at her own mistake, trying her best to wipe the drink away and looking back to you expectantly. “are you gonna explain, or should i go ask jj what he did to you?”

at that, you were vigorously shaking your head. “no, no, no. it’s not that big of a deal. it was just unexpected. i mean, jj hitting on me? that’s weird, isn’t it?” kiara simply shrugged, letting you continue the tangent she knew you were about to go off on. “it’s kind of annoying, too. i’m his best friend. at least, one of his best friends. and now he’s gonna try to, what, conquer me? like he does with the desperate tourons? i’m not a fucking touron. it could’ve been a really sweet moment if he hadn’t--”

“wait, a really sweet moment?” kie interrupted. “oh my god. you wanted him to kiss you!” without hesitation, your hand was clamping over her mouth, both of your eyes wide. peering over your shoulder, you caught eye contact with jj once again from across the beach. he waved nervously, and you threw him a tight lipped smile in return. easily distracted by the boy, your hand fell from kie’s mouth. when she realized she had some leeway to speak, she lowered her voice so only you could hear her words. “awww, you guys are so cute! seriously, since when was this a thing? and how come you didn’t tell me?”

you shook your head lightly, eyes fluttering shut for a second before you answered. “it’s not really a thing. i mean, i don’t think it is? i’ve had this little crush on jj forever, but i never let myself feed into it because it’s jj, you know?” kie nodded sympathetically, tossing a comforting arm over your shoulder. “but now he’s acting weird, and i don’t know what that means.”

taking a deep breath, kie forced you to fully face her, placing a hand on each of your shoulders. (actually, she had one hand on one shoulder, and the other held her full cup, which was being balanced on top of your other shoulder, but it was close enough.) “here’s what i think you should do,” she began, grabbing your full attention at the implication of a solution. “be you. it’s jj, y/n. he’s fucking weird. but, i don’t think you should assume he hasn’t had a little crush on you forever, too, because i’d say he has. but don’t tell him you got that knowledge from me.” you raised your eyebrows, opening your mouth to question her so-called knowledge but being cut off by your friend. “so what i’m saying is, just do what you always do. don’t freak out, or start avoiding him, or any of that shit. just be y/n, be normal, and i’m sure jj will be jj, in that terrifyingly concerning jj way. if something’s gonna happen, it’ll happen. and if not, you’re still y/n and jj, right?” you nodded slowly as you took in her words, your subconscious registering them as the truth. “oh, and one more thing: get drunk with me, please!” even when she was drunk, kie knew just what to say in times of distress. so you listened to her.

you took a few more seconds to let the nerves leave your body and mind, but soon enough you were back with the boys again, in that same spot next to jj. he seemed a little surprised by your return, but didn’t verbally question it. you bumped you shoulder against his with a smirk, and when he concluded that you weren’t upset, his arm was tossed back around your shoulder like nothing had happened.

within thirty minutes, you’d almost forgotten how weird jj was acting. instead, you were focused on being with your friends, and having fun. kiara, pope, and john b eventually began dancing foolishly, tripping over each other and laughing at their own actions. you and jj remained perched in your seats, both swaying and singing along to the music surrounding you. after a few songs of simply watching your friends’ drunken dance moves, jj was hopping down from his spot and putting a hand out for you just as the song changed. you looked at him hesitantly, laughing when he impatiently shook the hand that he wanted you to take. “c’mon, princess. you’re my dance partner. let’s go!” succumbing to his persistence, you put your hand in his and let him pull you from your seat and move you a few steps closer to the source of the music.

conveniently enough, jj had chosen a decently scandalous song for the two of you to dance to. the movements between you were goofy and innocent for the first few moments of the song, but when the bass dropped just before the first chorus began, you felt like every ounce of alcohol you’d had that night was hitting you at once, and your body was basically moving itself. you let jj pull you flush against him as your hips swayed with the beat, your back pressed firmly against his front. he followed your movements, one hand in yours as he tried not to focus too much on the way your ass was moving against him. with one particularly powerful roll of your hips, you had jj lightly groaning behind you, drawing a chuckle out of you as you spun in his arms. “what, you wanted me to be your dance partner and now you can’t handle it?” at that point, you were unbelievably aware of how close your face was to jj’s, but kie’s words were ringing through your head loud enough to keep you from moving away. if something’s gonna happen, it’ll happen.

jj’s arm snaked around your lower back as the two of you continued to dance while you quietly talked. “oh, no, princess. i can handle it.”

“then what’s the problem, dance partner?” your free hand came up to jj’s shoulder, fingers lightly grazing the nape of his neck, and you gave him a small, satisfied smile. maybe kie had told you to act normal, and this wasn’t normal, but it was fun, and you had gotten just as drunk as she’d wanted you to, so who was complaining?

“no problems here. absolutely none,” jj insisted quietly. suddenly, that smitten look from earlier was back on his face. before you could react, the hand that had been stationed on your back was moving to your cheek. he tugged you a centimeter closer, studying your face as he did. when your expression didn’t change, your eyes just flickering down to his lips and back to his eyes, he knew what his next move was. without giving himself another second to overthink it, his closed the gap between your mouths, both of your eyes now shut as you melted into each other. the music was long forgotten, and the (extremely loud) hoots and hollers of surprise from the other pogues were ignored. the hand you’d had around his shoulder was now raking through his hair, and his was holding the back of your head steady. neither of you moved away from the other until the song was changing, and you both realized that the volume of your friends would soon draw a lot of attention to the two of you. when you pulled back, you locked eyes with jj for a few seconds before breaking into laughter and burying your face in his shoulder. “what? am i that bad? you laughin’ at me again, princess?”

you pulled yourself away from the shelter you’d found in his shoulder to look at him again with a surprised smile. “that’s your main concern right now, jj?” he laughed with you, pulling you back into a hug. “by the way,” you murmured in his ear so none of the eavesdropping pogues could hear. “we’re gonna have to talk about that ‘princess’ thing, because i don’t know if i can handle it.”

jj released you from the hug, smiles plastered on both of your faces as you finally turned to face your friends, who were full-on applauding at that point. “we can talk about the ‘princess’ thing later, princess. let’s take a walk first.” and just like that, you and jj were waving sarcastically to your friends, refusing to otherwise acknowledge them (or answer any of the burning questions they were throwing at you), and heading off to a quieter part of the beach. the walk to this kegger had been fun, but you doubted anything could top the walk you and jj were taking now.

tags: @baby-bearie @g4bster @danicarosaline pls lmk if u guys wanna be tagged in all my stuff :)

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

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Title: Observation.

Word Count: 3.3k

Pairing: Mini!Yandere!OC/Mini!Reader.

Synopsis: It’s like being the pet of a pet. Shrunken down, trapped, and isolated… There are worse things you could do than keep your head down and try to play happy-family.

TW: Shrinking, Violence, Imprisonment, Gaslighting and Mentions of Kidnapping.

“It gets better, after a few days.”

His voice was calm, laced with an unidentifiable accent and heavy with a calm, complacent undertone, the kind you’d expect from someone talking to an old friend rather than another hostage. You’d only been awake for an hour or two, but if he was going to panic, he didn’t seem to have any intention of doing so in front of you. Rather, he’d just greeted you and offered an insincere apology before helping you to your feet, spurring you on with promises of tea and explanations, both of which he seemed in no particular rush to provide.

The strangeness of your current state seemed obvious, by now, even if it didn’t really make sense. Your host was normal, a man of few words and tan skin with the barest hints of a spiraling tattoo peeking out from just beneath his sleeves, but he was the only normal thing you’d seen so far. The kitchen table was too low, pushing against the tops of your knees, but your chair was too high, the soles of your feet barely able to touch the ground. The empty vase on the nearest counter was ornate, but plastic, the cheap, overly-decorated sort of thing you’d decorate a playroom with. Most of the cabinets were false, but the few that weren’t contained plates too thick and too wide, cups that were just too small to be held comfortably, silverware that didn’t feel right in your hands. They were tools for toys, faux-commodities for dolls that didn’t need to really use them.

Things for people like you, now.

You crossed your arms on the smooth tabletop, staring down at your hands. Trying to see if anything about you was different, as you spoke. “I don’t know how you can say that.”

“It does,” He assured, making no exceptional attempt to sound any more convincing than he cared to be. “The headache will start to fade with a little sleep, and you get used to making do. We have a lot, but there’s always something missing.” He paused, chucking under his breath, as if the minor inconvenience was his own, personal joke. “I think he does it on purpose. To ‘simulate the difficulties of real-life’, or whatever excuse he wants to use to explain why I’ve been doing laundry by-hand for the past year and a half.”

You stiffened at the mention of your kidnapper, the person who forced you into their little fucked-up experiment. The details of your abduction were blurry, a nonlinear series of pricks to your arm and nonsensical threats you couldn’t quite remember, but you didn’t push yourself to recall much else. You had a feeling you wouldn’t like anything you managed to dredge up. If someone had the capability to make you into something so small, something so helpless, and the apathy to put you on display like a prized pet… You weren’t sure they’d be nice enough to make the transformation as painless as you’d hope.

“I don’t live here,” You mumbled, more to yourself than to him, although the stranger saw fit to hum in response to the admission. “In this town, I mean. I just moved here for a job - I didn’t even really want to, but I needed the money. They set me up with an apartment and everything.” A kettle whistled, and he nodded sympathetically. He didn’t turn to face you. “I didn’t even get to see it, not before I got… shrunk, or whatever.”

“New faces make the most convenient targets. If no one knows you, no one can look for you. Everyone you used to know is too far to do any good.” You sink into your seat. Somehow, his words of comfort did little to inspire much hope. “I think I was a tourist. I was passing through, stopping at a bar, and then--” He clicked his tongue, waving in some vague, dismissive gesture. “--this.”

You frowned, biting the side of your cheek. “Were you scared?”

At that, he glanced over his shoulder, sending you a loose, careless smile. You attempted to return it as he pulled a mug from the nearest drawer, preparing a still-boiling drink with the idle concentration of someone who’d done this a thousand times before. “At first, but as I said, it gets easier. You never get used to it, but the homesickness fades, and you find ways to keep yourself occupied. The only thing that’s changed is your size.” Your shoulders slumped, your attention quickly drifting back to your own self-pity, but a sturdy hand came to rest on your shoulder before you could start to spiral. “You’re not alone, either. You have me, and we will get you through this. In the meantime, drink.” A mug was delicately placed in front of you, the handle just a little too thick to hold comfortably. “It’ll help with the nausea. You’ll feel better once you clear your head.”

You only leaned back, letting him rub slow, soothing circles into your back as you lifted the mug to your lips and took a sip, if only to see the way his smile seemed to grow.

By the sixth day, you’d come to terms with the fact that you were, undoubtedly, in a dollhouse.

The layout was massive, but easy to navigate. The building was split down the middle by a spiraling staircase, the dizzying structure decorated with halls in either direction, all leading to bedrooms or bathrooms or spaces so sickeningly domestic, you’d come to think of the kitchen as a neutral zone. Most were unused. Leon’s (he’d introduced himself properly later on that night, once you were stable enough to ask) bedroom was tucked into a corner of the ground-floor, but there were signs of life everywhere. An empty cup left in an otherwise unoccupied parlor, a book abandoned halfway through, little things, but things Leon didn’t seem like the type to overlook.

The only aspects of the house that hadn’t been tampered with were the industrial-style security cameras, each protected by a metal box and a colorful array of warnings, and one of the spare rooms on the top floor, this one covered floor to ceiling with pastel colors and stuffed animals, things for someone much, much younger than you or the home’s only other occupant. You didn’t try to investigate further. There’d been a camera in that room, too, and if your captor saw you looking around, they might’ve assumed you were curious about...

You’d moved on quickly. That’s all that mattered.

None of the doors had locks, either. You’d only found two so far, a row of deadbolts on the symbolic front-door and a padlock on the basement, both of which seemed to be later additions. Currently, you were lingering near the latter, unsure if you should persist and risk the wrath of your all-seeing voyeur or leave it alone, live to dwell in paranoid anxiety for another day. A part of you was scared, honestly. Nothing else had to be locked away, hidden behind a bolted door, and if there was something you weren’t supposed to see, you weren’t sure you wanted to. If it was Leon’s secret, you couldn’t--

You never got to reach a conclusion. Without warning, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against a broad chest and pretending not to notice how quickly you went rigid. There was a laugh, a playful squeeze to your hip, and just as quickly as you were restrained, you were let go, forced to turn around and meet the dark eyes of your only companion. Leon was like he always was, cheerful and much too enthusiastic, despite neither emotion having an obvious motivation. Still, you fell into it quickly, attempting to mirror his joy. It was the least you could do, considering how kind he’d been, over the past few days. “I didn’t realize you were up,” He explained. “It’s still strange to have another person here. I wasn’t--”

Suddenly, he stopped, pursing his lips and scanning over you. His eyes never managed to rise above your neckline, though. “What do you think you’re wearing?”

It took you a moment to process the question. There was a closet full of clothes in the room you’d picked out, but you’d managed to avoid them, so far. Every piece was stiff, unyielding to shame or preferences, and the color scheme was akin to something you’d see in an ancient sitcom. It was a futile progression to dread, and yet, you planned on putting it off for as long as possible.

Judging by Leon’s expression, ‘as long as possible’ wasn’t for much longer.

“I didn’t want to change,” You admitted, a hand absentmindedly drifting to your wrinkled shirt, smoothing over the thin fabric. “It just feels… I didn’t want to, alright? Is something wrong with that?”

That earned a scowl. It took more self-restraint than it should’ve not to step back. “I left something out for you.”

You’d woken up to a pale-pink monstrosity laid out on the foot of your bed, still on a hanger. It’d been disregarded without a second thought. “I didn’t realize,” You mumbled, bowing your head just enough to seem apologetic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would be a big deal… Does it matter?”

His scowl deepened, grew, but just as quickly as it’d come, Leon found a way so cover it up. It was there, but a second later, it wasn’t, an expression of disappointed sympathy sewing itself seamlessly into his features. With a gentle, patronizing sigh, he pulled you into another hug, choosing once again to ignore the gesture’s one-sided nature. “It does, angel, but we’ll make an exception this time, alright? When I do something thoughtful, you’re supposed to show me you appreciate it. That’s how this is supposed to work.”

You opened your mouth, thinking for a moment before closing it again. Suddenly, you were glad he couldn’t see your face. The concern slowly infecting it would’ve been… worrying, and you weren’t sure if you could think of an unimportant agitation to explain it away. “The basement,” You said, instead. “Do you have the key?”

“Don’t ask silly questions.” Leon pulled back, tapping the tip of your nose with his index finger. “Hopefully, that door will stay locked. I don’t see a reason either of us should have to go someplace so unpleasant.”

You nodded, and Leon took you by the hand, wordlessly guiding you back towards the center of the house, towards the spiraling staircase and towards your bedroom, where his selected outfit was still waiting, sprawled out over your comforter.

This time, you didn’t argue when he told you to put it on.

He waited three weeks to start sleeping in your bed.

It might’ve been an impulsive decision, on his part. It felt impulsive to you. One moment, you were huddled underneath thin sheets, just beginning to close your eyes and welcome the darkness, and the next you were wide awake, terrified and paralyzed as your mattress dipped, creaking as Leon moved onto it. If he cared that you were awake, he didn’t make an effort to show it, only sliding under your sheets and throwing an arm over your waist, holding you with a practiced intimacy, an undeserved intimacy. The kind of closeness you didn’t want any part in.

“Leon,” You mumbled, much too quietly to be taken seriously. As if there was anyone else you should be afraid of waking up. “Are you alright? Why--”

“Hush, now.” His voice was low, but not tired. Perfectly awake. Perfectly aware. More of a half-hearted threat and a command made out of fatigued necessity. “Sleep, sweetheart. Don’t ask questions.”

He closed his eyes, his forehead coming to rest against the nape of your neck. You didn’t.

“I see you're fond of your new companion”

Elias didn’t make an effort to pose the sentiment gently. He seemed bored, if anything, his chin resting on his fist as he stared down at you and Leon, seemingly numb to the oddity of talking to two people that barely measured up to his thumb. He’d been generous enough to let out of the dollhouse for - as Leon affectionately put it - the ‘monthly check-in’, or… onto the table it rested on, at least.

It was disorienting, seeing the space that surrounded your world, all bare walls and scientific instruments you couldn’t identify, sterile but cluttered, like an unused room in a very lived-in home. Elias was nothing special, either, not the ominous, foreboding figure you’d imagined. He seemed average, if anything, a pair of black glasses and a head of unruly hair making for a rather unimposing figure. A captor, but not an intimidating one. A man with a hobby that just so happened to need a few unwilling volunteers.

Of course, that didn’t stop you from shrinking into Leon’s side when his gaze shifted towards you.

“They’re good company,” Leon answered, his composure never wavering. Why would it? He’d done this a thousand times before, and as far as you knew, he and Elias got along. As well as a captor and their captive could, anyway. “To tell the truth, I’m starting to think I’ve been here too long. I was almost glad this one wasn’t so stubborn, after last time.”

You felt your throat go dry. “Last time?”

“I don’t want to have to deal with another incident,” Elias warned, brushing off your question as if it’d never been asked. “You got along with your other roommates too, at first. Everything’s wonderful and terrific and perfect, until I come to check on you and find one less participant than I should.” He pursed his lips, shaking his head as he let out a noise of frustration. “I can move (Y/n) to another enclosure if this isn’t going to work. I don’t want to lose resources because you don’t get along with them.”

Leon gasped, pressing a palm to his heart in a show of betrayal. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to make a joke or distract you from the topic at hand. “I’ve never done anything that wasn’t necessary. You told me to take care of my home, and I am. I shouldn’t have to suffer because you have poor taste.” Elias rolled his eyes, and Leon laughed, slumping against you, intertwining his fingers with yours mindlessly. “You picked a timid one, and they’re coming along nicely. I don’t plan to waste such a rare opportunity.”

“Are you sure?” Elias asked, leaning back in his chair and fishing for something on the floor at his feet. A notepad, but you couldn’t make out what was written on it. “I’d hate to disagree, but your track-record says otherwise. I’m patient, but I do have my limits, Leon.”

He glanced towards you for the first time since the start of their conversation, keeping you in the corner of his eye. “(Y/n)’s going to behave.”

You didn’t know whether or not you should correct him.

You should’ve corrected him.

“No,” You spat, not bothering to hide your disgust. It was a terrible feeling, a vile sense of wrong, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be surprised. Everything about Leon was telling, from the grimace pressed into his lips to the anger in his eyes, bright and fiery and terrible. Unconsciously, you pressed yourself against the tiled wall, gripping your towel a little tighter. It was the only barrier between him and you, and by god, you weren’t going to give it up. “Get away from me. Don’t touch me.”

“You’re being irrational,” He said, crossing his arms and taking a step closer. You considered making a run for the bathroom door, but you doubted you’d be able to reach it before he reacted, catching you and doing something worse than staring you down. “Couples bathe together. It’s normal, you’re just--”

“We’re not a couple!” It was the first time you’d yelled at him, the first time you raised your voice, and Leon didn’t try to hide his offense. He edged closer, but you were quick to press yourself against the wall, to bare your teeth and try to make it clear he couldn’t intimidate you just by existing. Not again. “We’re captives. We were kidnapped, I was kidnapped, you were kidnapped. You can’t keep acting like this is normal, and you can’t expect me to. I’m not just going to sit back and play nice while you--”

“I don’t think I like your tone,” He warned, his eyes narrowing. The shower was still running, hot steam beginning to fill the room, but Leon didn’t seem to feel the need to turn it off. You’d barely had time to cover yourself before he came in, your hair and your skin still dripping, but you were glad you had. If only to protect the few traces of dignity you had left. “Stop,” He ordered, grimly. “You’re going to say something you regret.”

That was your sign to back down. That you should give him what he wanted, or at the very least, do your damnedest to make sure you weren’t the reason he didn’t get it. When he stopped trying to patronize you, it meant he was mad. And when he was mad…

You tried not to think about what happened when Leon got mad.

You should’ve backed down, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to let him have his way. “You don’t even want to get out of here, do you?”

Grit teeth. A locked jaw. Your second warning. “You shouldn’t--”

“I shouldn’t ask questions?” You cut him off without hesitation. “What do you not want me to ask? What are you so scared of my finding out? That you like feeling powerful? That you want to be in control? You can’t lie to me, I’m the one that has to deal with you. All your rules and your comfort and your fucking clothes.” You forced yourself to stop, to take a breath and seek out the same composure Leon was so good at maintaining. He took the chance to make his argument.

“You’ve been here for a month, I’ve been here for nineteen. You don’t know what it’s like when Elias doesn’t get his way. You haven’t had to deal with that because I’m helping you.” Another step. He was practically breathing down your throat, now. “You should be grateful.”

But, you didn’t want to be grateful. You wanted Leon to stop acting like you should be.

You swallowed, letting the silence grow tense before you broke it. “Someone was here before me.” He made no move to interrupt. You persisted. “What happened last time?”

He flinched, and made no attempt to hide it. You didn’t need another warning.

You lunged to the side, aiming blindly for the door, a weapon, anything that could help you escape or fight or act. Leon was faster than you, though, and much more practiced. A fist closed around your shoulder, blunt nails tearing into your skin, and just as swiftly, a heel found its way to the back of your knee, sending you crashing to the ground, something in your ankle cracking as you collapsed. You were slammed into the unforgiving floor, your cheek soon pressed against the cool surface and Leon’s body bent around yours, his weight and his strength keeping you pinned down. Weakly, you tried to push yourself up, but Leon only growled, his resolve strengthened and his grip iron-clad. There was nothing you could do to squirm away, not unless he had a sudden change of heart

“Bitch,” He spat, letting out a string of less specific profanities under his breath. “I took care of you. I kept you safe. All you had to do was let me.”

You didn’t respond. Leon sighed, but his hold on you never loosened.

“You still want to know what happened, don’t you?” He sounded defeated, exhausted, but that didn’t stop him from kissing your shoulder as you struggled to nod, the gesture both fleeting and far too prolonged, at the same time. He pulled back, but didn’t let you go, only scanning over you with the same tight, loving smile he always wore when he was about to do something awful.

You’d never thought that smile would make you feel so sick.

“You’re about to find out, angel.”

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mittelfrank-divas · 3 years

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Dance of the Black Heron chapter 3

In which Dorothea attempts to sort out how to teach Hubert to dance and words are exchanged.

AO3 link here!

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"No, no, no." Dorothea dropped the spoon that she'd been using to tap out a steady rhythm on the side of an overturned crate, letting it clatter onto the sun-bleached wood. "Are you dancing, or are you attempting to recite chapter five of our tactics textbook to Professor Byleth?"

Hubert dropped his stance to fold his arms together. Twenty-five minutes into their dance lesson, and he already felt sweaty and overly warm in his uniform. The afternoon sun beat down on them despite the mid-autumn season, making him regret his preference for black. His long hair was already starting to stick to his cheek on one side, and he was pretending not to notice this. "I do not understand the question."

Dorothea advanced on him across the small room. Well… "room" was a generous term for the location of their private lesson. Hubert had spent weeks sniffing out the more abandoned corners of Garreg Mach when they first arrived at school. The monastery grounds were a maze of ruins, both above ground and below, and many of the abandoned locations appeared to never be included on the guards' regular rounds. Of course, he had always imagined that when he utilized such hidden spaces, it would be for much more nefarious purposes than practicing for a dance competition.

The size and dimensions of this particular building were reminiscent of the knights' hall, but whatever use it had seen in centuries past was long since lost. The wood roof had long ago rotted and caved in, and no door remained in the doorframe. But the tile floor, once cleared of debris, made for a smooth enough surface to dance on without risk of tripping, despite weeds pushing up between a few of the cracks, and the brick walls offered some amount of privacy while they practiced. The open door faced away from the monastery, and the path here was overgrown enough to dissuade anyone from choosing to wander in this direction, so he could be confident that none would be nearby to witness his humiliation. In essence, they had their own private courtyard in which to stage their lessons.

Dorothea took him by the shoulders and gave him a shake, even though she had to reach up to do so. "You're too stiff! You look like a waiter in one of those fancy Enbarr restaurants where they fold the napkins to look like doves."

Strictly speaking, Hubert had hardly visited any restaurant, in Enbarr or anywhere else. Restaurants existed for those who were socializing or traveling, or who did not already dine in the actual Adrestian Palace, served by the royal family's own chefs. But he had a vague impression of what she was describing. "And I am to understand that that is a bad thing."

Dorothea's hands flew to her head in a dramatic fashion. "Yes! The point of dancing is movement! You cannot move and be rigid as stone at the same time. The scowling doesn't help, either."

Hubert felt himself flush. "I was merely concentrating."

Dorothea pursed her lips sympathetically, but her voice retained some of its impatient edge. "Concentration is important, but you'll need to learn not to let that show on your face. The judges want to see a smile. Can you do that, Hubie? Do you know how to smile?"

With some effort, Hubert conjured the most pleasant smile his face could allow.

Dorothea visibly recoiled, her hands leaving Hubert's shoulders so she could step back. "Never mind. You look like you intend to flay me alive. Don't smile like that at the judges, alright?"

Hubert tried to ignore the sting that her comment induced. "I was not intending to be sinister." Not at this exact moment, anyway.

"I've never met someone who could be threatening by accident, but somehow you manage it." Dorothea threw herself back onto her seat and took up her spoon again. "Fine! Let's start from the top!" With that, she began drumming out a beat for him. With a groan, he went back to it.

It surprised Hubert how quickly the dance came back to him. He had not even thought about waltzing for years, let alone put it into practice. His feet still remembered the steps, his shoulders still remembered how to set themselves as though preparing to cradle another in his arms. The basic mechanics of it were really quite straightforward.

And yet he could feel Dorothea's eyes on him, evaluating his every movement. The steady drumming of her spoon on the crate provided a simple enough beat for him to keep time to, but it was a grating sound, one that reminded him with every strike that he was not simply one dancer among a crowd. He was alone on an empty floor, foolishly dancing along to cutlery. Could the entire school hear the noise? Would a face appear in that open doorway any moment? He felt horribly foolish and woefully exposed.

"Augh, just stop!" Dorothea suddenly snapped, the spoon slamming down on the crate. "Honestly, could you look any more miserable? You act like you don't even want to be here."

Hubert bent over to catch his breath, hands on his thighs. There was a reason that he devoted most of his energy toward magic, something that allowed him to stand perfectly still while still fighting with deadly force. "This may come as some shock, but no part of this experience delights me. I am here for my duty, nothing else."

"Really? You think I love being here, pretending to be happy about you getting chosen over me?" Something in Dorothea's voice broke. Hubert tilted his head up to look at her through the sweaty bangs hanging in his face, and realized that she was on her feet, hands clenched at her sides.

He stood upright, hands still clutching at the stitch in his side. Hellfire, was he out of shape. "Is that what you think this situation is?"

Dorothea snorted. "At least have the decency to be honest with me. You and Edie just couldn't have your class represented by a commoner, could you?"

Hubert would have laughed, if he had the breath for it. Instead he merely stared at her in confusion. "Where in Cichol's cursed name did you get that idea?"

"Come on, Hubie. We both know I'm the best dancer in our class. And you come to me with the flimsiest of excuses for why I wasn't chosen? That you need me to concentrate on learning magic? Dancing is a magic class! There is no reason I couldn't do both." Furious tears were pooling in her eyes, threatening to spill. "I'm not an idiot, Hubie. I know there are plenty of people who think I don't deserve to be here. And maybe that would be enough to sully our house's reputation, having someone like me represent us. I just thought you and Edie were above that sort of thing."

Hubert tried to work out where exactly this situation had gone horribly wrong and saw that he'd mishandled it from the start. He should have seen how this would look to her. He straightened his jacket and laced his hands behind his back, feeling that he owed her at least some proper manners. "On the contrary, the thought of watching you outmatch those pitiful nobles and inflict upon them the shame of failure that they have too rarely encountered in their wretched lives fills me with a joy that I rarely know. Yes, you are in every sense the ideal candidate for this competition, and the Black Eagles would be proud to have you represent us. Not despite your origins. Your unique experience is exactly what makes you so adept at what you do. You know what it is to hone your skill for professional use, not as some parlor trick. It was not I who argued against your candidacy, nor was it Lady Edelgard. It was the professor's preference."

Dorothea processed this quietly, her green eyes fixed on something behind him, her arms crossed defensively. "I really thought they believed in me more than that."

"They do," Hubert said flatly, not wishing to obscure the message with what might seem to be insincere reassurance. "Enough to ensure that you do not deviate from your aspirations. Dorothea, why exactly did you come to the officer's academy? Gaining admission while working full time as a Songstress could not have been an easy task."

Dorothea sniffled, giving a dismissive shrug. "Oh, you know. A school filled with Fodlan's wealthiest young noble bachelors? How could I pass up an opportunity like that?"

Hubert rested his chin on his palm, letting his gaze drift to the tall, sun-dappled grass outside the door. "If that is your goal, then it's certainly not the worst plan for going about it. In fact, I would call it downright shrewd. But of course, the fact that you would also be learning skills here that could be used in any number of positions in the future must have crossed your mind. A backup plan, as it were."

Dorothea snorted, though it came out more as a sniffle. "I mean, what gal wouldn't want to learn how to strike a guy with lightning whenever he gets a bit handsy?"

"Indeed, but you could have learned that in Enbarr. There are other schools, easier schools to access." Dorothea said nothing, impulsively reaching to fix her long hair, as if it were ever anything less than perfectly coiled about her shoulders. Hubert persisted. "I have read your application."

Her gaze snapped back to him, wide-eyed. "But that's--"

"Highly confidential, of course. I don't trust just anyone to have such free access to Lady Edelgard. I need to know just who is sitting behind her chair every day." It had not, in fact, been a remotely easy task to gain access to the academy's records. Hubert was still trying to puzzle out where the bishops hid their archives. Fortunately, Professor Byleth was not quite so paranoid about the files they were given, and so he had managed to leaf through the documentation on the Black Eagles. Would that the other two professors could give him such ready access to their own classes.

"It's also very rude," Dorothea muttered.

"I do not tend to concern myself with what is polite." Hubert felt a faint smirk tug at his lips. "Quite an impressive application, actually. Your test scores were average, but your essays were most engaging. You have a practicality that many others lack. You do not allow the big picture, as it were, to blind you to facts. You have valuable insights that our class needs."

Dorothea flushed, looking away from him. For someone who seemed to thrive on attention, she did not seem to know what to do with this sort of praise. She sighed impatiently. "Is there a point to all of this, or are you just heaping compliments on me so I'll drop it?"

"My point, Dorothea, is that you did not come to the officer's academy just to be a Songstress by a different name. The professor fears that making you a Dancer would send a signal that you are valued only for your appearance. That it would lead you to limit yourself. Frankly, I would be inclined to disagree, had I not seen you in action."

"They said that?" Her voice hitched a bit when she said it.

"That is what they told me. That they want to see you succeed as a gremory, a class that very few ever manage to achieve. Though I do not agree with our professor on every front, their instincts on our class composition have been largely accurate. Do not think I haven't noticed you studying the chapter on Meteor, a spell so complex that I doubt even Linhardt would be bothered to learn it."

She gave him a startled glance, but did not deny it.

Hubert nodded to her. "So I ask you again: why did you come to the officer's academy? If you are happy remaining as a Songstress, if you would be satisfied only to become a Dancer and nothing else, then I will gladly end this farce and accompany you to persuade Professor Byleth to change their mind. But if you came here to prove something, as I suspect you did, then I would be remiss to allow you to make such a sacrifice."

Her eyebrows arched disbelievingly. "Hubie, that almost sounded generous of you."

He chuckled. "Lest you mistake my actions for kindness, allow me to remind you that I seek only to ensure that Lady Edelgard's people are maximizing their potential."

"Right, of course. You could not possibly be trying to help your friends achieve their dreams the way you're always talking about helping Edie with hers." She was smiling now, even as she wiped at the corner of her eye with her sleeve. "To answer your question, I... I don't know if I have just one answer for you. But I do know that I have been around simpering nobles my whole life. And I would give just about anything for the chance to wipe the smile off their faces. And beating them at their own game? Learning the spells that all their fancy tutors and expensive libraries couldn't teach them? I'd like that very much."

Hubert smirked in triumph, and offered her a low bow. A proper bow, the likes of which he normally reserved only for Edelgard. "Then, Miss Arnault, I suggest a trade. I will help you reach your goal if you help me reach mine. Teach me to survive this blasted competition and I promise that all I know of magic is at your disposal."

Dorothea laughed. "Okay, okay, no need to turn this into the opening of an epic drama. Though... hmm. I think I have an idea of how we're going to present you now. You are actually quite charming in your own way, Hubie. There's no reason to try to cover it up with a fake smile."

Now it was Hubert's turn for skepticism. "Somehow I doubt there is much charm for you to find."

Dorothea waved him off. "Oh hush, you'll see what I mean soon enough. Anyway, we're focusing on your stance right now. Here, take my hand." She stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder and held out the other for him to hold.

He surveyed her in confusion. "Does the contest not require each contestant to be performing alone?"

Dorothea huffed. "Yes, despite the waltz being a couple's dance. It's a silly requirement, really. But right now you're letting your nerves get in the way of your movement. You need to stop being so embarrassed about me watching you. So let's take out the audience factor entirely. There is nobody left to watch if we're both participating, right?"

Hubert sighed as his gloved hand took hers, the other resting lightly on her waist. "Perceptive, as ever."

She grinned up at him. "That's why I'm your teacher. Now, you lead. Teach me to waltz as though it's my first time. I'm a lowly commoner who's never been allowed to join in on such a high class dance before."

Hubert chuckled at her, pulling them into a slow, steady rhythm. Dorothea followed smoothly, exposing her lie for what it was. "Does that work on the brainless nobles you seduce? Pretending to be clueless?"

"Some of them." She smirked, unapologetic. It was harder to match each other's steps without music, but Dorothea was a professional. She adjusted to Hubert's pace, reading his body language well enough to anticipate his steps. "Good. Loosen your grip on my hand a bit. You're directing me, not pulling me like a dog on a leash."

"Quite the analogy."

Her head quirked in an approximation of a shrug. "You'd be surprised how necessary that comparison is. Far too many noblemen can't tell the difference."

"Not as surprised as you might think." He complied with her instruction, letting her hand simply rest in his rather than gripping it.

"Better, but you're still too rigid. You're worrying too much about what I'm doing. Dancing with someone is about trust. Which I know is in short supply with you."

"What gave you that impression?" Hubert tried not to stare down at her feet, certain that he was about to tread on her toes.

"I can't believe I have to tell you this, but my eyes are up here." She laughed at his startled look. "Trust, Hubie! You need to trust me that I know how to keep up with you. And you need to trust yourself. You know these steps, right?"

Hubert studiously kept his eyes on hers, realized his hand had tightened around hers again, and pointedly loosened it. "Knowing and doing are not the same."

Dorothea sighed. "Alright, stop. New plan. I'm cashing in that magic lesson right now."

Hubert let his hands fall away from hers as she stepped back, and tried very hard to keep pace with Dorothea's shifting moods. "I did not realize you were in such a hurry to learn."

"I am now. The wall makes a good enough target, right?" She moved to stand beside him so that they both faced the same direction, with only a wall of bare brickwork ahead of them. "So? What's the most basic Dark magic you know? What's the spell you can cast in your sleep?"

Hubert regarded her. "You are aware that Dark magic and Black magic are quite different, I'm sure. Black magic utilizes the elements, while Dark magic draws on something more internal and primal."

Dorothea sighed impatiently. "I have read chapter one of the textbook, yes, thank you Hubert. Show me anyway."

Hubert puffed out a breath. At least this would be a respite from his stumbling around. "Alright. The simplest Dark attack is Miasma Δ. It goes like this." It was easy. So easy to gather the dark magic in his chest. To draw his hand across his body as he muttered the incantation, feeling the cold sting of power spreading its tendrils down the length of his arm. To flick his fingers outward just as the magic reached them, casually lobbing a sphere of crackling darkness at the bare wall. The impact resonated with the magic's hollow sound, leaving a blackened scorch mark on the bricks. How strange that trying to dance had felt like wading through waist-deep mud, but casting this spell felt like stepping back onto dry land, as light and easy as walking on a summer day.

"Hmm." Dorothea experimentally moved her hand across her chest. "Like this?"

"Palm inward. Arm parallel with the floor." He reached over and tilted her elbow up a few degrees. "You want to draw the magic in toward your hand before you expel it. If you allow your arm to droop, you risk casting at the floor rather than at your target."

Dorothea imitated his movements, right down to a small flourish in her wrist that, strictly speaking, was not a necessary addition to the spell, but that Hubert habitually added on principle. "And your feet? Do you step forward with your right or your left?"

"Always lead with your casting side."

"Right. Of course." She practiced the motions again. Hand across the chest, elbow out, step forward, flick of the wrist. Again and again she repeated the steps, imitating him perfectly without the actual orb of magical darkness firing from her hand. And then she tried it again using the other hand.

"Dorothea, what are you doing?"

Dorothea flicked one hand in front of herself and then another. "What's it look like?"

Hubert crossed his arms. "It looks like you are being very smug."

She grinned, but did not stop her impromptu dance routine, working in much more hip sway than the original spell called for. "Don't I have a right to be? I'm finding all your secrets, Hubie."

He could not help the amused smirk that crossed his face. "I very much doubt that."

"Well I've found one, anyway. You are a good dancer when you're not getting in the way of yourself. We just have to draw it out of you. What is spellcasting other than a very precise dance routine with a purpose?" She did a careless twirl, her hair fanning out around her. It looked so effortless.

"Ah yes, deadly magical force is naught but prancing about." Hubert watched as Dorothea spun the movements he had taught her into an intricate routine that grew with each new iteration. Here he was, betrayed by his own lesson.

She came to a standstill, grinning in triumph. Whereas Hubert felt bedraggled and exhausted by dance, she looked invigorated, her peach skin glistening radiantly. "From now on, we'll warm up our sessions with a magic lesson. It's something you're already confident in, so it'll get you into the mindset you need. Come on now, let's get back to it. We've got lots of time yet before the sun goes down."

Hubert groaned, casting his eyes up at the treacherously clear blue sky, still shining bright with the low evening sun. If only he believed in the Goddess, he might be tempted to beg her to nudge it towards the horizon just a bit faster.

#hubert von vestra #dorothea arnault #black eagles #fanfic #dance of the black heron #indigo's ferdibert got me hyped to finish this part!

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jilytho · 3 years

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will you accept this rose ch 2

Read below or on AO3

The Bachelor was the last reality competition show Lily had ever envisioned herself going on. Wipeout? Sure. Love it or List It? You bet. Survivor? 1000%. But The Bachelor? Never.

She watched it almost every season, of course. It was her sister Petunias favorite show so she’d grown up watching it and had started to like it. She was more into The Bachelorette but even after moving out of her childhood home and into her campus apartment with Marlene and Mary, she found herself putting it on weekly voluntarily. It became their little tradition. Monday nights, it didn’t matter what was happening in school or work or with significant others, they were to meet on the couch with large bottles of red wine and order takeaway.

They knew it was all staged and fake, of course. There was no way half of what happened wasn’t completely orchestrated by producers but that didn’t mean it wasn’t entertaining. They’d offer up their opinions, place bets on the winner, predict each cringey line, and most importantly, how they’d react to each date and situation.

You find out one of the other contestants is making up lies about another, do you tell the Bachelor, confront the liar, or stay out of it? You’re told to stick to a two drink limit per cocktail party, do you follow that, not drink at all, or sneak shots in when nobody is looking?

They treat the show like a video game, what would you do if you were orchestrating the actions, how would you act from a producer's side, from the Bachelor view, and of course, as a contestant. How would you respond when he tells you he wants someone who will stay home with their children all day. Would kissing with eyes open be a dealbreaker? Or something you can work on together. It became an interactive game show almost, and it became very easy to disassociate the contestants into characters on a scripted show instead of real people, just like them.

Their little game collapsed when Petunia came to visit one week. It was her moms idea. Have Petunia stay over at Lilys for just a night, let them go out on the town and talk Petunia wedding prep, watch The Bachelor together and bond like the old days.

She arrived at noon on Monday, an hour earlier than she was supposed to, which Lily had of course predicted. Petunia apologized profusely and insincerely for not giving Lily enough time to shower and properly clean her apartment, despite the fact that Lily had been up till 4am the previous night scrubbing the kitchen and permanently burning off skin cells with bleach.

They’d gone shopping, each dressing room filled with thinly veiled insults on Lily's figure, her hair, her style. Lunch was spent condescendingly discussing how the red meat in a burger was going to inevitably lead to Lily’s death and didn’t she know that no man liked a girl who could eat as much as they could?

Lily had sent 18 SOS texts and red wine emojis to Mary and Marlene in their group chat by the time the bill came. By the time they got home, Mary and Marlene were both waiting, wine poured and discussion topics ready to take the focus off of Lily.

They passed time as a group, chatting while Lily played a silent drinking game that Marlene had quickly caught on to. Drink at every condescending comment Lily was the focus of, drink everytime Petunia talked about how well Vernons job paid, drink everytime Petunia said Lily drank too much, drink everytime Petunia suggested no man would really care about an advanced degree. The advanced degree comments were crossing lines because Petunia knew that it wasn’t just Lily getting her masters, but all three of them. Insult her all night, fine, but insulting her friends right to their face was too much. Lily almost lashed out and kicked her out right then and there but Mary handled it gracefully by reminding Petunia that she doesn't “quite care if any men were interested, as long as women are”.

Petunia stayed silent for an amazing fifteen minutes after that.

They were able to fill the time leading up until the episode began with discussing the season thus far, the relationships and chemistry, or lack thereof. The wine was ridiculously useful in aiding her shoulders dropping and time began to pass at an acceptable rate. As soon as the episode began, Lily was able to mostly forget Petunia was there, easily falling back into her game with Mary and Marlene.

“You know that’s not how I’d handle someone like Victoria. I feel like with a person like her you really just have to-”

“Lily, would you shut up? The rest of us are actually trying to watch the show.” Petunia snapped at her, neck flipping obnoxiously to glare at her from the opposite couch.

“Actually, Petunia,” Marlene interrupted icily, “I was really interested in Lily’s thoughts. In the future, I’d prefer you not speak for me.”

“Why is she acting like she’d ever be in that situation?” Petniuan shot back, “it's not like she’d ever be on the show, she’s clearly not up to their standards.” Petunia took an obnoxious gulp of her wine, sneering over the lip of the glass.

“Any bachelor of any season would be lucky and grateful to have Lily on the show and if you think anything else you should probably just go.”

“Even if you somehow got onto the show, there is literally no man on earth that would give you a rose over any of these women.”

“Well, we’ll just see about that, won’t we, Pet?” Lily drained her rather full glass and immediately unlocked her phone, googling the application process for the following season.

She didn’t know who the Bachelor was going to be, and she didn’t care, the wine mixed with Petunia's attitude was plenty of motivation and before the next commercial break Lily had already completed and submitted her application, without any proofreading.

XXX

She’d almost forgotten ever applying. She fought hard to forget every second of her time with Petunia over that visit and applying to the Bachelor seemed to be part of that.

When she’d received the email that her application had been accepted and that she’d be moving on to the next round of the interview process, she almost deleted it. They’d included a photo of who the next Bachelor was in the email, however, and something about his eyes made her hesitate. Warm and hazel, sharp jawline, deeply tanned skin, drop dead gorgeous, exactly her type. Regardless of the way her mouth dropped, and regardless of how intelligent and beautiful most of the women on the show were, she was not the kind to compete with 30 other women for one man's attention.

Her finger hovered over the trash button but she couldn't bring herself to do it, instead closing out her inbox and moving on with her day, the knowledge that it was still sitting there, waiting for her, sat in the back of her mind all day.

She was probably just going to ignore it. All day while she worked on her thesis, it taunted her, but she couldn’t bring herself to delete it and she certainly couldn’t bring herself to respond so instead it just sat.

Until she opened the mail. And right there, right on top, was Lily’s invite to Petunia's wedding. Enclosed was a note, “Lily, as you can see on your invitation, we have chosen to not give you a plus one. Since you are not currently in a serious relationship, or the relationship type, we’d much prefer to not have some stranger at our wedding who we’d have to cut out of the photos or spend money on dinner for a friend. See you then.”

That was the deciding factor. “I’ll show you relationship type,” she whispered to herself angrily as she pulled up the email again, flitting past James’s face to the response button and booking herself an interview.

Marlene and Mary both died laughing when they figured out what she had done. She’d come home, popped open a bottle of tequila, poured three shots into a juice glass and threw it back before the entire story came pouring out of her.

#jily #jily fic

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paintedwithapalette · 4 years

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SoKai Week Day 1 - Paopu Fruit

Word Count: 4, 054

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To Sora and Kairi, it was like being on an emotional high.

Through time, their bond had hardened like concrete—impenetrable. It was beyond latent feelings at this point, it was a harmonious compound of encouragement, support, admiration, and most of all, trust.

With their hands intertwined and legs dangling as they were bundled together close on the paopu fruit tree, these emotions ran rapid with just a single touch. The salty air and the seagulls squawking overhead was nothing short of the pleasantries the two had become familiar with. Though, it would’ve meant little if they didn’t have each other.

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of this place,” Kairi said, closing her eyes and allowing the wind to gently caress her face. “I know in my heart that this isn’t where I come from, but to me, this is home.”

“It always has been,” Sora validated.

“You think so?”

“Of course! This place wouldn’t be the same without you, you know?” Sora sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “And hey, I’d be a total wreck without you. Do you know how many times I probably would’ve fell to darkness if it weren’t for you being by my side?”

“True. You’re pretty much hopeless without me,” she teased.

“Hey!” Fabricating a look of hurt, he pulled her in closer with one swift motion and sent Kairi into a fit of giggles all the while. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think even you can figure that out, dork.”

Another five minutes passed as they wrestled, mostly consisting of Sora trying to pull Kairi in close while she pretended to reject his advances, no matter how much she loved every second of it. As their laughter died down, they settled into a comfortable embrace; the warmth of Sora’s arms encompassed around her petite frame. They sat in a comfortable stillness, no words traded between them as neither broke eye contact until Kairi tucked some hair behind her ear with a soft giggle.

“What’s that goofy look for?” she asked.

“Sorry,” Sora apologized insincerely, putting on a grin. “Guess I just don’t want to forget that I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

Kairi’s blush intensified along with the ends of her lips. ��You’re such a cornball.”

Sora chuckled nervously as he scratched his cheek as he imagined how much Donald would tease him if he heard that one. “Yeah, well…”

“It’s okay,” Kairi said. “I like how cheesy you are.”

“Well, there’s plenty more where that came from!” Sora pulled her in with an even tighter embrace, once again making Kairi burst into laughter.

When it died down, she rested her palm against his face and used her thumb to travel across the texture of his soft skin. “Looks like you really never did change,” she said.

Sora smiled, tenderly taking hold of her hand. “Of course I didn’t.”

Their smiles were radiant, weaved with affection as a sheen of desire shimmered over Kairi’s eyes when she noticed Sora looking at her lips. Their anticipation surged as their proximity decreased, their faces inching closer, closer, and closer...

“Sora!”

A yelp escaped them both as whatever tension there may have been dissipated and they held each other even tighter. Their nerves settled as Donald and Goofy entered their light of vision, the voice clearly belonging to the former of the two.

“Donald? Goofy?” Sora asked. “What’s up?”

“Riku and the King wanted us to tell you about the bonfire tonight,” Donald explained. “Since we’ll be celebrating the return of a half-pint like you, Sora.”

Goofy took note of the fact that neither of the two had let go of the other since Donald spooked them. “Gawrsh, I shore hope we aren’t interruptin’ you all.”

“Uh, no, of course not!” Sora gave a sheepish grin as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Gee, then how come your face is red, Sora?” Goofy asked.

“Awwww, isn’t that sweet?” Donald teased, clasping his hands together and bringing them up to the side of his face.

“Could you cut that out?” Sora clenched a fist as Donald burst into laughter. “No offense, but can you two buzz off? Kind of in the middle of something here.”

“Guess we oughta stop meddlin’ then, a-hyuk,” Goofy said with a chuckle as he made his leave with his usual gangly walk. Donald didn’t stray too far behind.

“And remember to behave, Sora. Mind your manners,” Donald joked.

“Knock it off!” Sora shouted as his friends entered the seaside shack. “That’s it. He’s gonna regret this the next time I see him alone with Daisy.”

Kairi found Sora’s frustration amusing as she placed her hand on his cheek, directing his focus back to her. “Well, don’t worry. We still have plenty of time to ourselves, right?”

It wasn’t long before whatever Donald had said before became irrelevant as Sora fell into a goofy smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”

At least, so he thought until a frisbee smacked the back of his head. “Ouch!” Sora cried as he massaged the tender spot and turned around to spot Lea catching the frisbee just in time. Sora should’ve expected as much since it wasn’t uncommon for Lea, Isa, and Ven to have their fairly regular frisbee games around this time. Still, wasn’t it odd that it somehow hit his head?

“Yo! Sorry ‘bout that,” Lea called, waving.

“Aww, no biggie,” Sora called back. He returned his focus to Kairi once again but it didn’t take more than a few minutes before the frisbee hit him in the back of the head again. This time, Lea received a frown.

“Sorry, butterfingers!” Lea said, though this time Sora noticed Ven covering his mouth with both hands while Isa rolled his eyes.

Sora slowly turned back around to face Kairi, giving him an understanding smile. “Think maybe we should find a different spot?”

Sora shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I’m sure it’s just an honest mistake.” Despite his words, his eyes narrowed as if he were waiting. Ten minutes passed and nothing occurred. The three seemed to continue about their own business. Sora let out a sigh of relief.

“Now, where were we?” Sora said, his usual smile returning before it was derailed less than a second later when the frisbee came hurtling right into the back of his head.

“Sorry again!” Lea apologized through the laughter he was failing horribly to stifle. “M-My fingers slipped!”

Sora growled, having had more than enough as he pushed himself off the tree, helping Kairi down all the while, as he took her hand and marched towards the seaside shack. Kairi had no objections but was left wondering where their next destination lied. “Where are we going?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Away from those jerks,” Sora said vaguely.

When Sora and Kairi exited the seaside shack, Lea and Ven were quick to catch up to them.

“Aww, where you goin’, buddy?” Lea asked, draping an arm around his shoulder as he pinched Sora’s cheek. “We didn’t mean to interrupt you guys. Was I disrupting the mood? It’s just that you two are just so darn cute.”

Sora grumbled under his breath but ignored Lea as he led (pulled, more accurately) Kairi inside the Secret Place, ignoring the howls of laughter from Lea and Ventus echoing in the short distance.

When Sora and Kairi made it inside, the former scoped the place out in search of any unwanted souls in the area. Thankfully, it looked empty as Sora let out a relieved sigh and smiled. He loved all of his friends dearly, but even he wanted some space every now and then to be with the girl of his dreams. He looked back at Kairi, their hands still attached.

“Think the coast is clear?” Kairi asked with a cheeky grin.

“Yeah, I think so.” Sora rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry about that. Hope I can at least make it up to you.”

Kairi shook her head softly as she wrapped her arms around the base of his neck, momentarily catching Sora by surprise before he carefully held her waist, bringing their foreheads together. “You already did.”

“I did?”

“Yes,” Kairi answered without hesitation. Her eyes traveled over to the drawings they made as kids handing each other a paopu fruit. “By just being you. I told you before all of this that I wanted you to never change and you haven’t. That’s more than enough for me.”

“Kairi...”

Before their lips could seal the deal, they heard a sharp squeal in the short distance. They immediately detached themselves from each other and scoped out the area.

“Who’s there?” Sora asked, returning to his previous look of defense.

Kairi narrowed her eyes, taking mindful steps as her eyes wandered over the cave until she heard hushed voices.

“I told you not to freak out over this, you dip,” said a hushed male voice.

“Shut up! They’re super cute! What do you want me to do?” asked an equally hushed female voice in return.

Kairi was able to pinpoint the voices from behind the large rock with a less than flattering face drawn on it. Making sure not to alert whoever happened to be back there, she tiptoed over until she looked behind the rock to find nothing. She raised her eyebrow.

Meanwhile, Sora turned around and saw two individuals making a poor attempt at being stealthy as they tried to crawl out of the Secret Place unseen. “Hey!” he shouted.

The two culprits, a.k.a Tidus and Selphie, looked up like deer caught in the headlights. The former of the two bumped into the rear of the latter, sending them both to the ground.

“Tidus? Selph?” Kairi voiced as she emerged from the other side of the rock.

Selphie scrambled back up to her feet, knocking Tidus back down in the process as she approached her best girl friend. “I-It’s not what it looks like!”

Tidus rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head. “Except it’s totally what it looks like.” The comment earned him a scowl from Selphie.

“Were you two spying on us?” Kairi asked.

Selphie bit her lip and averted her eyes. “W-Well, that’s uh...”

“It was her idea,” Tidus accused with a sharp finger pointed at Selphie, though the brunette didn’t deny it as she fiddled with her fingers.

“Selphie...” Kairi admonished.

“I’m sorry! I just heard you two like to come here a lot Lea and, uh... I dunno, I was a teeny bit curious to see how far you guys were gonna go. And you’re just soooo cute!”

Sora sighed as he shrugged defeatedly.

“That’s... sweet, Selphie, but boundaries would be nice sometimes, you know?” Kairi chastised kindly.

Selphie bowed her head in shame. “Yeah, I know...”

Sora crossed his arms. He was beginning to think this island was too crowded for his liking. “Well, uh, we’ll leave you two to it then,” he said somewhat hastily.

Kairi was caught off-guard when Sora moved past Selphie and took her hand in one swift motion as he hurried out of the Secret Place.

“W-Wait!” Selphie said, reaching out for them. “I just need to know if you guys have gotten to third-ba—”

Tidus covered Selphie’s mouth and pulled her back before she made the situation any more awkward than she already had.

“Just don’t, Selph.”

After having to feel the brunt of Lea’s teasing once again, Sora led Kairi to the wooden door leading to the cove. Sora and Kairi briefly examined the area before hopping across the broken bridge that led to the other side.

“Watch your step,” Sora warned.

Kairi puffed out her chest. “Hey, don’t you worry about me, I think by now I’ve learned a thing or twoowhoa!” she sputtered as she nearly tripped over herself when she landed on the other side before Sora caught her in the nick of time. He carefully brought her back up to her feet.

“You okay?” Sora asked with genuine concern.

Kairi found the will to stop ogling and cast him a smile. “Yes.”

They stood in a comfortable silence before they heard feet pattering against the sandy surface in the short distance.

“Woof, woof! Woof, woof!”

Before he even had a chance to react, Sora was tackled to the floor by Pluto and it only took a second longer for his face to be submerged in the dog’s drool.

“Aww, Pluto,” Sora whined, though Kairi couldn’t bite back the laughter that escaped her even if she wanted to. Once Sora’s face was appropriately drenched, he moved over to Kairi and would’ve nearly pounced on her as well if Kairi didn’t catch him in time. She still gave him plenty of chin scratches and pets to assure him his appearance wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

“It’s very nice to see you, too,” Kairi greeted. “How’ve you been, boy?”

“Gosh,” said a familiar high-pitched voice. “Sorry about that, you two. You know how Pluto can get sometimes.”

King Mickey approached them along with Riku. The latter chuckled as Kairi took a handkerchief out of one of the pockets of her pink shorts, dabbing Sora’s face once she was free from Pluto.

“Sorry, were we interrupting something?” Riku asked, a sly grin on his face.

Sora cleared his throat. “Uh, well...”

“Yes, you are,” Kairi answered boldly, though her words betrayed the smile on her face.

Riku raised his hands in defense. “Don’t mind us, we were just trying to get a little training in. But if you needed a little bit of privacy, then by all means...”

Riku stepped out of the way, presenting the rest of the cove to them, empty and barren for their disposal. Kairi sent an appreciative smile while Sora bashfully scratched his cheek.

“Thanks, Riku,” Sora said as he and Kairi moved past them. Riku playfully saluted while he and Mickey shared a chuckle. They were about to leave along with Pluto before they saw Lea charging in hot.

“Hey, Sora! I got somethin’ for ya,” he cried.

Riku calmly grabbed the back of Lea’s shirt before he could get any closer and yanked him back. “I don’t think so.”

“No, but it’s really important! I swear,” Lea said.

“What is it?” Mickey asked.

“I’m locked out of my house and I need his Keyblade to unlock it.”

Riku and Mickey shared a look. “You do realize more than half of us have Keyblades, right? Matter of fact, don’t you have a Keyblade?”

“And don’tcha live in Twilight Town?” Mickey added.

“I… I just moved here?” Lea gave a sheepish grin. “Today, actually. Crazy coincidence, am I right?”

Riku and Mickey shared a look of disbelief before nodding to affirm they were on the same page. Despite his protests, they grabbed Lea by his shoulders as they dragged him away from the scene.

Sora and Kairi were left to themselves as their eyes wandered the cove, a wave of nostalgia flooding over them both as memories lurked in every nook and cranny of this area of the island.

“Hey, remember when the raft used to be here?” Kairi asked as she wrapped her arms behind her back. “It’s almost like... this is where everything started.”

“How could I forget?” Sora asked with a chuckle. “We worked so hard on that thing. It’s a shame we never got to give it a try.”

“It’s a nice thought, wondering what would’ve happened had we been together the whole time setting sail on the sea. But honestly...” Kairi walked towards the shore, her arms tied behind her back as she looked to the sky wistfully. “If I could go back and change how everything went down, I don’t think I would.”

“Really?” Sora tilted his head.

Mm hm.” Kairi nodded, pursing her lips into a tight smile. “It may not have been ideal, but being able to go inside your heart, being able to see things through your eyes and feel the things that you felt... how much you cared about me and wanted nothing more than to make sure I was safe... maybe we’re this close because of that. And ever since then, no matter what, we always find our way back to each other again.” She turned around and faced him. “I wouldn’t trade that for anything. Not for one second.”

Sora was left speechless for a moment until a certain warmth washed him over. “Kairi...” he said quietly, his eyes trained on the sand. “I guess sometimes I just wish I could’ve done better for you. You spent all that time having to watch from the sidelines, waiting for me to come home because I kept leaving you all alone. I guess sometimes I wish I could’ve done better for you.”

Kairi sighed, but she settled into a gentle smile as she carefully approached him in good spirits. “Sora, go into your back pocket for me please.”

Sora raised an eyebrow. “Uh, sure.”

He did as told and dug into his back pocket and retrieved the good luck charm she had given him all those years ago. Since then, she wanted him to keep it permanently as a reminder of the bond they shared. Sora had come to treasure it deeply.

“Even if we’re apart, we’re not alone anymore,” Kairi said. “Remember that?”

Sora looked over the charm and the face, his own face, she drew grinning back at him. His eyes shimmered as the memories came back. “Yeah,” he said. “We made a promise.”

Kairi nodded. “We did. No matter what happens, no matter how far apart we are...”

She took Sora’s hand and gently closed them around the good luck charm.

“We’ll always find each other,” she said with a soft smile. “No matter what.”

After a moment of silence, Sora nodded. “You’re right.” He gripped his lucky charm harder. “I don’t think I would trade anything in the world for that either.”

“So, don’t worry about that stuff. In the end, I think it made me stronger. Not just me, but you too. And besides, I love you just the way you are, no matter how much of a hopeless goofball you are.”

“Thanks, Kai—hey, wait a minute! You take that back.”

Kairi giggled as she ran away. “But it’s the truth! You said it yourself.”

Sora grinned. “Okay, you asked for it!”

Sora chased Kairi all over the cove, leaving no stone unturned as they playfully teased each other all the while. Sora could have easily caught up to her before, but after all the training Kairi had received, she was a lot trickier to catch these days. Their misadventures ranged from running behind the coconut trees to splashing each other in the sea.

At one point, Kairi was running away after she casted Waterga magic on Sora (which Sora thought was cheating but at least he had an Aeroga spell to dry himself fast).

“Now, you’re really gonna get it!” Sora declared as he chased after her.

“I’d like to see you try!”

Sora looked ahead and put on a look of surprise. “Oh, hey Riku!”

Kairi stopped in her tracks. “Riku?” Before she had a second longer to react, Sora grabbed her by the waist from behind.

“Gotcha!” he said, a toothy smile as Kairi kicked her legs out.

“No!” she said in-between her giggles. “Lemme go, you lazy bum!”

“Nuh uh, I need my revenge.” Sora put on a malicious smile as he began tickling her sides. Kairi howled with uncontrollable laughter.

“Sora…! I-I can’t!” Kairi sputtered.

“Ha! Not so tough are ya now, huuuuhaaaaah!” Sora couldn’t finish his comment before he tripped over himself while backing up. He fell to his back, taking the brunt of the fall while he caught Kairi in the nick of time as she fell on top of his chest. They landed in the middle of shrubbery and gorgeous flowers that bloomed brilliantly near the ladder that led to the zipline.

After a brief stint of silence, they ultimately laughed at the situation at hand. This felt right. This was how it should’ve been. The stars had aligned and the universe was finally working in their favor. So it seemed, at least. Kairi wanted to last forever.

But she knew deep down all good things must come to an end.

“Hey,” she said suddenly. “I have a surprise for you.”

Before Sora could question her, she went into her back pocket and pulled out a paopu fruit. How she was able to carry that back there, she wasn’t sure but neither of them questioned it.

“I know we’ve already shared one before, but... I kind of want to relive that moment again,” Kairi admitted.

Sora didn’t say anything. He only offered a smile. A smile that communicated everything it needed to. He told her that she was safe, secure, and free of judgment. He told her that she was the apple of his eyes, the girl of his dreams, and his destiny. He told her how happy he was the first time she asked him to share one with him and he wanted nothing more than to do it again. All with one smile.

“You know I’ll come back to you, right?” he asked. “I won’t give up. I’ll never give up.”

Kairi’s smile turned solemn. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Sora took the paopu fruit from her possession and gently grazed his teeth on top of one of the spikes. Kairi took the initiative to nibble the other end, but before either could bite down, she cupped his cheek with her hand. Sora responded by using his index finger and thumb to carefully hold her chin.

The way he looked into her eyes with such a focus and confidence, it was enough to make a tear stream down her face. No matter what the situation, he always assured her that he would come back.

They both simultaneously bit down on the paopu fruit, solidifying their destiny to find each other once again, and in a turn of events, the fruit dissipated into sparkles that twinkled against the setting sun. They were still and locked firmly in the moment as they looked into each other’s eyes, her hand and his fingers still attached to each other’s faces, quietly admiring each other until Sora ended up being the first to break it.

“Don’t ever forget,” he said. “Wherever you go...”

Then Kairi woke up.

Reality settled as the memories slowly drifted back as she studied her room, the morning sun peeking through the slits of her blinds and its warmth faded from the translucent curtains. Eventually, she remembered it had been a year and a few months since Sora disappeared. She and the others were still hard at work looking for a way to bring him back home. But for a moment, she was relieved of the pain of her own uncertainty of his whereabouts and her lack of ability to see his kind smile beyond distant memories. It reminded her of the time when she first returned to the islands without Sora or Riku, except it was even more painful because her memory was fully intact.

He was there. He was so close. She could feel his touch. Everything felt so natural and real. Perhaps, in its own roundabout way, it was?

Maybe, just maybe... Sora was trying to communicate with her. Perhaps he wanted to assure her that he was okay and that he would return to her, but they could only meet in a dream. As the dream was nearing its end, she did recall her memories slowly rematerializing in the back corners of her mind and she had to assume the same could’ve been said for Sora as well as their fun-filled day on Destiny Islands without a care in the world came to an end. They both remembered that Sora still had to come back and he made sure to promise that he would.

Yes, it had to be him. Even the impossible couldn’t keep him away from her for long. No matter what the circumstances, Sora found a way.

Tears welled up in her eyes and they gradually slid down her cheeks as she looked out the window at the bright, morning sky.

“I’m always with you,” Kairi finished.

Credit for both of these amazing art pieces goes to my super talented friend, @amyhayanora!

#sokaiweek #kingdom hearts #sora #kairi #sokai

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baoshan-sanren · 4 years

Text

Chapter 7

of the wwx emperor au which I’m thinking about calling Emperor Wei WuXian and his Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

The Sect Leader meeting begins as any other. Jin GuangShan heaps empty flattery onto the YunMeng Jiang Sect, then everyone else heaps empty flattery onto the LanLing Jin Sect, then Jin GuangShan returns the favor for some, while ignoring the others. Wei Ying lets his eyes focus on some invisible point in the distance, and tries to ignore the sickly-sweet smell of honeysuckle that seems to follow Jin GuangShan like a cloud.

He thinks about the Wen Sect. He thinks about Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing. He thinks about the misfortune that is his shijie’s betrothal to Jin GuangShan’s pompous brat of a son, and how incredibly satisfying it would be, to break off that arrangement. He thinks about the stark contrast of flowing white robes on a moonlit rooftop, and those same robes pooled on the floor of his receiving hall.

Nie MingJue interrupts the verbose flow of insincerity with an impatient bark that makes half of the Sect Leaders recoil. None dare accuse him of discourtesy however, not with the Emperor in attendance. Once they have calmed their ruffled feathers, the conversation turns to more productive subjects. Unfortunately, these productive subjects are equally as boring, and Wei Ying thinks it cannot be healthy, suppressing so many urges to yawn in such a short period of time.

Usually, he listens with half an ear, just in case he is required to offer some sound of assent or dissent. Uncle Jiang is skilled at steering these discussions to a reasonable conclusion, and Wei Ying only has to agree without giving them much thought. He is prepared to do the same today, but the mention of Gusu catches his attention, and he finds himself listening without intending to do so.

The past year had been difficult for many; a drought in YingChuan, YangQuan, HeJian, followed by a heavy rainfall that had flooded parts of LanLing, MoLing, TingShan, and Gusu. Crops were ruined, livelihoods lost. Wei Ying is aware. The royal coffers had borne the brunt of these misfortunes. In fact, he is fairly certain that the royal coffers had paid for the necessary relief multiple times, and that the majority of this relief had gone to LanLing, LangYa, and the Sects closely aligned with the LanLing Jin. He clearly remembers the amounts requested by HeJian Fan and QingHe Nie. He knows exactly how much silver it took to reinforce MeiShan’s river dams. And he knows that GuangLing had received enough to rebuild the entire region from the ground up.

Yet, somehow, HeJian Fan and QingHe Nie, historically more in need of assistance, seem to have recovered fully. But the LanLing Jin faction claims to still be in distress. It is not so obvious, since none of the Sect Leaders will speak plainly, but these strings of complaints about failing crops, impassable roads, and roving groups of bandits can only lead to one place. They are angling for further assistance, and Wei Ying, never the one to count the gold in the treasury, or to care how it is spent, finds himself indignant at their shamelessness.

Perhaps it is only the fact that his mind keeps circling back to Lan Zhan’s white robes. Or perhaps it is the continuous silence at the end of the hall where Lan QiRen kneels, still as a statue. Whatever the reason, Wei Ying decides that enough is enough.

“Sect Leader Lan,” he says, interrupting Qin CangYe mid-sentence, “we have not heard any tales of your misfortunes. How does Gusu fare in the wake of these hardships?”

Lan QiRen does not look surprised to be addressed. He bows low, his voice both chillingly cool and irreproachably respectful.

“The Gusu Lan are honored by the Emperor’s attention. There is no need to trouble Your Majesty with our insignificant hardships.”

“TingShan has requested assistance three times in the last six months,” Wei Ying says, “It is unlikely that the calamities which have befallen them had bypassed Gusu altogether. You are neighbors after all. I would like to know the extent of the damage your region has suffered, and your methods of remedy.”

The others seem under the impression that the Emperor is preparing to reprimand the Gusu Lan, and most of them settle in comfortably, expecting a pleasant diversion. After all, in the past few years, the ritual humiliation of the Lan Sect had become a type of entertainment in its own right.

Lan QiRen rises, and makes his way to the center of the hall. Wei Ying has never bothered to study the Lan Sect Leader closely, but he does so now.

It is fascinating to see Lan Zhan’s hostile pride and courtesy being perfectly mirrored by a man whose appearance is so drastically different. Lan Zhan wears them as an armor, but it is an oddly endearing and somehow fragile-appearing armor, one Wei Ying thinks may easily crack under pressure. Lan QiRen, however, wears his pride as he would a sword. An ounce less of respect, and it would give the impression of hostility.

“Answering Your Majesty, three towns and six villages had requested assistance with the drought, one town and two villages with the excessive rainfall. The initial aid sent by Your Majesty had been distributed during the drought, to replace the lost crops for a period of one year, with hopes that the following harvest would make any further assistance unnecessary. LianYi was most severely affected, their poor irrigation techniques unable to sustain a prolonged shortage. The issue was solved by construction of of check dams, irrigation canals, and cisterns. Five other villages in close proximity to LianYi will also benefit from this construction; between them, the cost of the project was fully funded. The excessive rainfall had adversely affected the commerce in CaiYi Town, destroyed two embankments in ChuanYi, and decimated the dam at WuHou. WuHou was flooded, and it cannot sustain rebuilding efforts at this time. The villagers have been moved to HanYi, where approximately half are still receiving financial assistance from the Gusu Lan. The embankments at ChuanYi have been repaired; none of the villagers were displaced in the process. The commerce in CaiYi Town is still recovering. Its proximity to Gusu has allowed for temporary relocation of those whose livelihoods were lost. The Gusu Lan are still considering the best way to proceed on the provision of future assistance.”

Wei Ying leans back in his seat.

He does not like Sect Leader Lan. He never has. There is something about Lan QiRen’s bearing that suggests even Heavens should think twice before demanding his respect. And yet, it is difficult not to feel admiration for his fortitude, for his ability to stand, utterly unbowed, in the face of so much hostility.

“I am told that before my mother’s death, one could not become a Sect Leader without attending lectures at Cloud Recesses,” Wei Ying says thoughtfully, “Sect Leader Lan, do you still teach?”

The man does not blink at the mention of the Empress, although more than one Sect Leader squirms in discomfort.

“I do, Your Majesty.”

“There is clearly much the Empire could learn from your example,” Wei Ying says, “The Gusu Lan are to be commended for their competence.”

Lan QiRen accepts the compliment with the same cool serenity with which he accepts insults. Wei Ying wonders what it would take to provoke the man into any display of emotion.

“The financial relief you are currently sending to HanYi must cease. From this day on, the royal treasury with step in and provide the necessary assistance. I will also ask that you submit the cost of CaiYi Town restoration to the Royal Treasurer, so that those who have been relocated to Gusu may return to their homes.”

Lan QiRen still appears to be utterly unmoved, although he does kneel, and thank the Emperor for his generosity.

Wei Ying does not want to be thanked. He would rather have some indication as to what the man is actually thinking underneath that cool exterior. But it seems that his efforts will not bear fruit today, so he focuses on needling the others.

“I am sure that any Sect Leader who is encountering difficulties in allocating their existing funds, will be grateful for Lan Sect Leader’s advice and guidance. Today, I will assume that any neglect of their duty is a result of ignorance, and not willful mismanagement. Therefore, I expect that they will educate themselves on how to govern more responsibly the future.”

The silence that greets his words seems a perfect excuse to bring the meeting to an end. Wei Ying feels that he has exhausted his store of patience for the day; he sweeps out of the hall while most of the Sect Leaders are still seated, forcing them to pay their respects to his retreating back.

He has not gone a dozen steps before Jiang FengMian catches up.

“That was... imprudent,” he says.

It certainly must have been, for uncle Jiang to actually say so out loud. Ordinarily, he would wait to voice his complaints until they are both behind closed doors, as no one should ever question the Emperor in public. Since Wei Ying rarely bothers taking initiative, these conversations are rare, and tend to end in Wei Ying yielding to his uncle’s superior understanding. This time, however, Wei Ying has no regrets.

“I know what you want to say. The Sect Leaders feel that they have been insulted for the sake of a Sect they unanimously despise, even when they cannot agree on anything else. I have given them a good reason to show a united front, when it is preferable to have them waste time in petty bickering. Worse, Lan QiRen will not thank me for holding him up as a shining example of competence, just so I can better highlight their abysmal failures. It is likely that my actions have only increased the animosity the others feel towards the Lan Sect.”

Uncle Jiang sighs, “If you know that nothing was accomplished by it, then why?”

“Something was accomplished. The Lan Sect will receive the assistance it needs. The rest have been accused of mismanagement, and will rush to either hide or distribute any misappropriated funds. Right now, they are anxious that I mean to send an independent magistrate to re-examine their spending. I hope this keeps them on the edge for months. It serves them right. As if LanLing Jin would ever need financial assistance from the Royal Treasury,” he scoffs, “Jin GuangShan could probably build an Immortal Mountain of his own, but has the audacity to complain about the cost of dam repairs.”

“The Emperor is the father of the nation,” uncle Jiang says gently, “he should have more patience for his children, even when it seems that they do not deserve it.”

Wei Ying has never been so grateful to see the doors of his own chambers.

It is only the first day. The first day out of seven, and not even half over.

“Parents who are afraid to put their foot down, usually have children who step on their toes,” he says firmly, “Now, I must change for the banquet. If the High Councilor insists, we may continue this conversation later.”

Uncle Jiang does not look particularly happy, but he bows and heads back to the meeting hall, probably intending to placate everyone Wei Ying has offended.

Wei Ying does not care. If Jin GuangShan even breathes in his direction in the next twenty-four hours, shijie will have to find someone else to marry.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #ficlet #m #wwx emperor au #trust me this is actually relevant to the plot #lmaoooo #ily guys

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tiaragqueen · 4 years

Text

Antipode

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Alastor x Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,6k+

✂ Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, possessiveness, death, murder, slight violence

[Edited]

***

As always, I can’t get enough of this guy.

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“I'll lure your carelessness. If you stop thinking, that would be the end. With a face that says I don't know a thing, I'll bring you down.” - Deal With The Devil [Tia]

You’d always been a give and take person.

You refused to give anything to anyone without a ‘payment’ of some sort because you didn’t want them to start taking advantage of your kindness. Looking back at it, you realized that you’d been quite paranoid. Unfortunately, or fortunately, your paranoia wasn’t unfounded. Not all people were grateful for just one favor and ended up asking for more without so much of a thank you, often using your so-called friendship as a bribe. Other than that, you tended to reject gratitude because you considered it as insincere and ingratiating at best. You’d only trust words if they came in ‘tangible’ or ‘palpable’ things such as earnest support or a gift. Though, there were times when you had to compromise with your few closed ones and begrudgingly accepted gratitude. Even so, you couldn’t deny the gnawing feeling of wanting to challenge its veracity.

It wasn’t a bad thing, was it? You just wished to see if people truly loved and appreciated you like they said they did.

On the other hand, you felt uncomfortable with taking without giving something in return. You deemed it unfair to the concerned subjects, even if they didn’t seem to mind or were ‘brainwashed’ to think that way. Although you weren’t the most moral person, you just couldn’t understand why some people were willing to manipulate others, especially for the sake of personal amusement. Didn’t they have anything better to do than playing with people like that?

Unfortunately, manipulation was rampant even in the most ordinary household. And in Hell, it was a hundred times worse. From high ranking officers to petty thieves, from employers to employees, from adults to kids, everyone always tried to use each other for various purposes. Anyone had an upper hand, be it embarrassing shenanigans, hidden trauma, dirty secrets, basically everything they could get their hands on or learned from someone else. You abhorred this place and if possible, moved to a better one. But you supposed this was your retribution for being too easygoing and ended up involved in the underworld, despite knowing the consequences.

Still, was it bad to wish for a break from constantly annihilating people who had tricked you? Preferably, forever? You knew you weren’t the kindest woman, but even you were far from the worst one here. You just wanted people to be accountable, goddammit!

“Die, you bastard!” you snarled, plunging the cleaver into the chef’s chest. This was, by far, the second man you’d killed in a week. You’d only agreed to work for him because of the high salary, but after countless rough treatments and failure to pay you in time, your temper eventually exploded. Other chefs and waitresses immediately escaped the moment you tackled that greasy man and racked his insides, though some lingered to take a picture of your recent murder.

As long as they didn’t disturb your rage – or God forbids, alleviate it – you paid no heed to what they were doing. They could eat his carcass for all you cared about.

Sighing, you flung the knife across the building and fished out a wad from his pockets. You squinted when you counted the less than satisfactory amount, and your mind instantly played a scenario of him spouting another lie to cover it up.

“Asshole,” you grumbled. Well, at least he already paid half of your salary with his life. It was enough for you to be able to sleep peacefully at night if you didn’t infuriate yourself with his imaginary lie that is.

“Well, well, well. Look who I found here.”

You slowly raised your head when you heard a static-like voice. Or, should you say, radio-like? Peering over your shoulder, you spotted a tall man with red apparel grinning behind you. Just from his demeanor alone, you could deduce that he was bad news, and now you regretted throwing the knife earlier. It’d be handy if he decided to attack you somehow unless he was stronger than you. There were many things you still didn’t know from this place, after all, one of them included the most powerful figures.

He cocked his head, piercing eyes narrowed slightly. “Having fun robbing him, sweetheart?” he asked in a tone that you couldn’t decide whether it was mocking or curious or both.

“Who the hell are you?” you squinted charily. As tempting as the option to retreat sounded, you had a feeling he wouldn’t let you go that easily. And now that you thought about it, the onlookers had vanished since his appearance.

Was he… truly that scary until they couldn’t even bear to breathe the same air as him? Or did they simply disappear because they were bored?

You gasped when he abruptly grabbed your wrist and pushed his face close to yours. “I’m so glad you asked, my dear! My name is Alastor and I’ve witnessed your wonderful ability in handling that man earlier.”

“W–what?”

“Although he’s twice your height and weight, you effortlessly toppled him and pierced his stomach as though it was a huge meatball!” he chuckled at his reminiscence. “How amusing. To think that it came from such a harmless woman…”

“I…” you stammered, oscillating between thanking or insulting him for underestimating your abilities. “Thank you…?”

Alastor's impish features softened somewhat. “No need to thank me, sweetheart. I was merely stating the truth.” There was a gleam of candor that promptly vanished when his default creepy grin emerged. “Now, the reason why I’m approaching you is that I’d like to offer you shelter.”

Now, this was suspicious, and a little concerning. “And why’s that?”

“Why not?” He simpered as he wrapped his arm around your lower back and opened a portal to a huge living room; presumably his residence since it was your current topic. “A random act of kindness never hurt anyone, no? Besides, you won’t just live in my house without doing anything. You must help me too, as a return.”

“Help with what?” you inquired, examining the place in case there was something even more suspicious than its owner. Or any kind of trace to inform you about who you were dealing with, honestly. He had to be anything but a mere denizen, right?

“Well, anything,” Alastor replied, calmly observing you touching and inspecting whatever interested you. It was quite amusing how curious you were with his belongings, and how blatant you were at seeking information about him. He couldn’t have picked a better entertainment than you. “So, how is it?”

You stared at his open palm. A deal, he was asking you to make a deal with him. And you, being a loyal supporter of taking and giving belief, immediately accepted.

“Deal.”

Alastor’s wicked grin widened as a green aura zapped from your clasped hands and sealed the exit. You swiftly retreated and stared at him wide-eyed, trying to comprehend the sudden event that occurred just now.

“… What happened?” you whispered fearfully. “A-Alastor, what just happened? What was that light? What did you do?”

He looked away, humming apathetically. “Just a little magic to ensure that you don’t try to break our deal, even though I know you won’t.” He peered through his lashes and simpered. “Taking and giving, no?”

Your heartbeat accelerated as you darted towards the doors and tried to pull them. To your horror, they didn’t even budge. “You bastard, let me out of here!”

“No, can’t do. We’ve made a deal, after all.” Alastor smiled, watching your futile attempts at busting the doors and windows. “Surely you won’t back down from your belief, right? This is the time where your loyalty is tested, you know?”

Sliding down the windowsills, you gazed at his shadow. You’d seen that shape before, at least half of it, from your peripheral vision. The shadow seemed to enlarge whenever you murdered someone but always receded before you could fully identify it.

For the longest time, you’d chalked it up to mere illusions. Why would anyone want to stalk you anyway? Because you were new in Hell? Well, you were certain you weren’t the only one. And they’d surely be more interesting than you ever could.

When the shadow wavered and took a shape of a guffawing man, you began to realize that this guy, this flamboyant guy had been in your life for a very long time. And you’d ignored that flagrant sign just to save your thinning sanity.

“You stalked me,” you murmured, shoulders sagging. “That wasn’t just my…”

Alastor vigorously nodded, dilated eyes piercing your tepid ones. “Indeed, and now you’ve entered my snare. And willingly, too!” He chuckled before sneering. “You sure are a gullible one, hun, more so than that charming demon belle. But I suppose that’s where your appeal lies!”

Clenching both fists, you snapped your head in his direction and growled. “You son of a bitch, you’re gonna pay!”

The shadow materialized from his coat and thrust you against the wall before you could leap towards him, the impact left a couple of cracks behind your head. Alastor tutted and stood in front of your slumping figure, one hand on his hip.

“Has anyone ever told you how futile it is to fight one of the Overlords? Oh, wait. Of course, you don’t, because you’re still new in here.” He leaned forward, twirling a strand of your hair. “But it’s okay. You’re bound to me now, so there’s no need for you to learn so much about this world. In fact, I prefer it if you don’t. A little innocence goes a long way, you know?”

Alastor whirled his finger and nodded approvingly at your current attire; a red knee-length dress, dark stockings, and a pair of flats. A stark contrast to your earlier choice; a plain shirt and torn pants.

“I’ll make some jambalaya once you wake up, my dear~”

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