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uuujeewriting · 3 years

Text

you can do it! [albedo, kaeya, childe, zhongli and diluc]

s/o has been going through a depressive episode and lacks motivation to finish their work and is getting anxiety because of it

tw: none, mentions of depression/anxiety, nothing too much. fluffy comfort <3

albedo x gn!reader, kaeya x gn!reader, childe x gn!reader, zhongli x gn!reader, diluc x gn!reader

a/n: self indulgent bc i'm way behind school and in the middle of a depressive episode so motivation's been lacking ;-; hope you guys are having a good week tho!

i would like to clarify that if any of these scenarios/hc's of mine are similar to other writers' works, it is unintentional and i apologize

albedo

oh? unmotivated you say.. self depricating thoughts? intrusive ones too?

albedo was never one to mope around when he was stuck on some problem he's yet to puzzle together, but seeing you exhausted, anxious and so... dull–he desperately wants to take all your worries away

he's a bit slow, failing to realize your depressive episode for a few days. as it prolongs, he notices how you seem to talk down to yourself and give up easily

sometimes, you don't even start work at all

this is due to your anxiety, he assumes as you think you're incapable of finishing or doing the work satisfactorily enough.

pulling you into an embrace from behind as you work on the projects you've been stuck on for the past few weeks, he gently whispers into your shoulder

"darling, have you been alright recently? are you in need of assistance?" he asks

he presses a loving kiss on your neck and you stifle a chuckle

"it's that apparent, no? i've been under the weather for quite a while now.."

as you explain your reasons and all your troubles to his end, he nods and hums ever so often

"you must be feeling drained, hm? well, frankly enough, i seem to need a break myself."

"eh? albedo where-!!”

he pulls you away from your working place and carries you to the couch, laying you down gently as he smiles at you

"aside from your unmotivated self, i reckon you need reassurance for those intrusive thoughts of yours."

and that, ladies, gentlemen and folks, is how you end up cuddling with albedo until the sun sets and you fall asleep

bask in the comfort of his words as he calls you his everything and more :')) <333

kaeya

my, oh my. what's gotten into his precious little love?

he's sharp, quite easily takes notice to your frantic and dim self.

he sees you sitting outside, head in your hands and sighs leaving your lips every now and then

unbeknownst to you, he creeps behind you and presses a careful peck on the nape of your neck, causing you to flinch and look back quickly

he was about to laugh at your cuteness, but as soon as he's reminded of your troubled state, he sits beside you and takes your face into his hands

sir we're in the plaza-

"oh archons, why is my sunshine so dim these days?" he pouts

rip u probably after this

"kaeya.. well, you see-"

and as you explain your current doubts and anxieties, he strokes your cheeks softly and looks into your eyes fondly

when you're finished, he nods and presses a light kiss on your forehead, a silent promise to accompany and help you on your endeavors to face your troubles

"i'll always be here for you, my love. if there's anything i can help you with, do not hesitate to come into my arms, hm?"

"noted, mr. suave"

jkjk o r a m i

he laughs and kisses you on the edge of your mouth

"what say you we head into the tavern for a bit? you could use some relaxation, right?"

as if you had a choice other than to say yes

childe

this man would know the second it started

having a bunch of siblings has its benefits huh

when he walks into your shared room and sees you on the edge, tears brimming your eyes he sits you down on your bed

"hey, hey.. i'm here, it's alright."

as you cry in his embrace, he rocks you gently, shushing you softly in an attempt to hinder your tears

"you can tell me if you're up for it, honey. i'm never too busy for you."

"i-it's just that-"

mhm. oh? why, how dare they treat you so harshly. really? why must you have to be burdened so heavily?

he acknowledges your struggles and worries with gentle strokes and brushing through your hair

"you have it really rough, don't you? ah well, nothing we can do but-"

"childe?"

he stands up and leaves the room for a second

he comes back with food, drinks, your favorite clothing of his, a scented candle you bought and some books you have yet to finish reading

the action warms your heart as you sniffle and smile at your lover

as soon as he lays down with you, prepare to never see daylight again as he won't let go for the longest, and i mean longest time ever

"i love you, y/n. you're strong and don't let anything, not even yourself, make you think otherwise."

zhongli

dearest, must life be so unfair to you? why you out of all people?

zhongli is wise–he knows something is bothering you when it does. that being said, he isn't sure whether or not he should approach you so directly

especially if it seems like a sensitive topic

instead, in your depressive state and anxious fiddling, he calls you over to him

he pulls you into his lap as he takes your face into his hand and kisses you tenderly

"my dear, has anything been bothering you? might i offer my hand in dealing with them?"

you'd think kaeya's mr. suave then this man pops up with his broke ass

"as a matter of fact.."

as you go on and state your dealings and troubles, he listens with an almost solemn look

he looks at you with utmost affection and concern when you finish

"the terrains of life have been steep and intimidating, you have been very commendable for braving through these, my dearest."

he places his lips onto your own and strokes the back of your head lovingly

for a reserved man, zhongli easily expresses his affection for you in multitudes of ways

his kisses being one of them

after parting your lips, he peppers your face with his kisses and you laugh quietly at his ministrations

"might i suggest a quick stroll to take your mind off things?"

you agree, thinking that once you head home, you'll be back to work with a clearer mind

little did you know mr. no money in his pockets got a liiiittle surprise for you as you won't be returning to your work any time soon :DDDD

by 'surprise' i mean he's taking you out to dinner

yall nasties

diluc

diluc is a busy man, dealing with a winery and all

along with his night profession (which he has only admitted to you and the traveling duo)

you did your best to hide your troubled self and aid him in his work, but you can only hold the facade for so long before it eats you up inside

when you break, he is slightly taken aback but is quick to comfort you

he sees you shaking and situates you on his couch as he sits beside you, rubbing your back as you curl into his figure

he's very warm

"sweetheart, would you mind telling me the problem?" he asks

he waits for an answer as you're still trying to find the words

"diluc, i'm sorry for bothering you.. i know you have plenty on your schedule and-”

"y/n, you're my top priority, no matter what. my work is nothing compared to what you mean to me."

and it's true, you're really his top priority

woohoo !! :DD

when you explain your anxieties and doubts to diluc, he's very understanding and listens to you earnestly

"-and that's why i've been so.. down, let's put it."

he strokes your face and presses his forehead to your own, looking you in the eye softly

he pulls you in tighter and closer, pressing kisses to your jawline and below your ear

"thank you for expressing your troubles with me, my love. i'm sorry for not noticing earlier."

"no need, love, you're very busy and i can't thank you enough for taking the time to understand me."

he pulls away for a second and shakes his head

"again, my work is nothing compared to you. i am willing to put aside all my responsibilities for a week in order to ensure your happiness."

uh wh a t

"ah," you laugh concerned, "sure–"

"which is what we're going to be doing this week." he smiles

welp. no turning back now

enjoy ur week with the redhead you utter s i m p

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neverdoingmuch · 3 years

Note

Wait cql lawyer/law school AU

i got you my pal dont worry!!

law school, im gonna be honest and say i know like nothing about law or law school so pls ignore any inconsistencies or inaccuracies

lwj goes to law school and he is definitely the top student in his class. they’ve been there for like a month and everyone already knows he’s gonna be the best

his one and only competition is this dude called wei wuxian but lwj isn’t particularly worried about him

so far they’re still in the stage of the course where they do the fun things to sucker people into doing the class for the semester so there’s been some practise debates and arguments and stuff in their tutorial classes

wei wuxian has that Charisma and like yeah all of his arguments are perfect but also he has an amazing smile and people are like yes i can trust him

(he’s definitely the sort to be like hm, the easy way to argue this case would be to quote some laws and use precedence to justify this but that’s boring)

lwj is also good at that sort of stuff because his arguments are perfect and everything is so perfectly researched that there should be no ground at all for someone to lodge a counterargument

(wei wuxian manages somehow and it makes lwj so mad)

but that’s whatever lwj thinks,, a lot of people join law thinking it’s gonna be like the tv shows and books and then get completely blindsided when it comes to the rote learning part or like the actual laws

and for all of wwx’s confidence, lwj hasn’t actually seen wwx so much as touch the textbook/s and he always studies in the law library so he knows that wwx has probably never even been there bc he hasn’t seen him even once (why’s he looking? bc he needs to see which books wwx uses to study,, bc there has to be something going on there,, obviously)

then they do their first like proper written assignment and lwj and wwx tie for the highest scores and now lwj has a Rival and he refuses to lose to someone who thinks that putting a ‘-us’ sound at the end of a word makes it latin (did wwx say habeas corpus and then point at a soft drink and go sprite-us can-us,,, maybe,,,,)

anyway! lwj and wwx are kinda rivals for the top spot and it’s one of those situations where one test lwj wins by a point but then the next test wwx gets full marks and they just keep exchanging the top spot in class

and this whole time wwx is like The Worst to have in class. he’s always interrupting to ask questions or just straight up not listening and spends the class doodling pictures of rabbits (they’re cute but wwx is terrible and he’s not allowed to make cute drawings)

so after a few months the most horrible thing happens.... they get put together in a project and lwj is like ugh. internally of course but his face is also saying ugh

the first time wwx and lwj get together to work on the project, lwj is prepared with a proper list of tasks to do all nicely split up between the two of them and a schedule for when they should get certain parts done by.

needless to say, lwj does not expect wwx to be ready, but wwx is definitely on top of things

he rocks up and is like yeah let’s do this, this and this and have them done by this time - basically proposing to do everything that lwj has already written down

and lwj is pleasantly surprised and is like hm maybe i misjudged wwx and decides to like re-evaluate his opinion on him

in doing so he realises that when he’d never seen wwx studying, it wasn’t an exaggeration at all. he’s never seen wwx so much as touch a textbook or spend more than a minute on a laptop doing something that wasn’t minesweeper or solitaire

but wwx is also making all of their deadlines and even adds extra information and resources to their document that could be useful elsewhere and sometimes he shows up to their study sessions and he looks absolutely exhausted

eventually lwj manages to get the truth out and wwx is just like yeah it’s easier to get worse grades than a genius but if you both study and you still get lower grades, it’s not easy,, for jc or for me

so wwx usually studies at night when his brother is asleep and lwj is like that’s bad, you can’t keep that up and just when wwx is about to go off at him lwj is like you can come study at my place

and thus begins the wonderful time where everything is alright and lwj falls in love with wwx

they work really well together and wwx is strangely considerate and nice? when he finds out lwj likes rabbits, he goes out and buys bunny post-it notes for lwj and starts to always bring him a doodle of bunnies every time he comes over. he always gets his work done on time, early even, and his work is always so brilliant and every time wwx smiles at him, lwj feels warm inside etc etc

for a long while lwj is like yes (: this is friendship (: bc he’s never had a crush before but then on the day they submit their project wwx is like hey,, the two of us make a great team,, we should always work together,, now and next year and even when we graduate,, i want to help the innocent people who need our help and i think i’d like it a lot if you joined me and lwj has his oh moment

they get a perfect score on the project of course and even after it finishes, wwx keeps coming over to lwj’s place to study or just hang out and lwj is just falling more and more for wwx each day

they’re best friends now and everyone gets used to seeing them work together on projects and then turn around to try and decimate each other when they’re working one on one and lwj thinks that he might just be the happiest he’s ever been

but then one day wwx doesn’t show up to class. it shouldn’t be strange but wwx has never missed class even once and he ends up hearing from lxc who heard from jgy that wwx was caught sabotaging some other student’s work (the other student was jzxun, who had a fondness for playing devil’s advocate and other than wwx once telling him that his argument was shit, wwx never spoke to him or seemed to know who he was but lwj is a bit too angry to remember that)

he manages to find wwx outside of his dorms as he’s moving out and he’s just like why did you do that? and wwx is like oh y’know,, bc he’s not really sure what’s happening himself,, one second he was at the top of his class and the next he was being brought before a board and being told that he was being expelled but he’s not going to tell lwj that bc lwj would definitely try and stand up for him and then they’d both get expelled

but lwj is furious and just spits out well if our dreams meant so little to you then maybe it’s a good thing you failed now,, bc his mother was a lawyer who took all these little jobs that helped people who actually needed the help and lwj was looking forward to doing that with wwx and he doesn’t even seem to care that now they can’t do that

wwx flinches and then smiles at him and just cheerily says, that’s me and leaves. he doesn’t look back and lwj doesn’t chase after him.

lwj doesn’t see him again for years (you can do 13 or 5 or however long you feel like)

lwj is a fully licensed lawyer and he’s working for the family company and he spends half of his time working on cases and uses the rest of his time to do like outreach programs where he goes and visits schools and runs sessions on what it’s like to be a lawyer, how to apply, and to provide assistance to any students who decide to study law at uni

and then at one of these programs he meets this kid, wen yuan, who is ridiculously bright and enthusiastic and has a smile that seems oddly familiar

at the end of the second session he comes up to lwj and is like mr. lan, is your name lan wangji? and lwj just says yes, expecting the kid to be a fan of one of his cases or something but then wen yuan is like oh wow! i thought i recognised you from my dad’s photo!

and lwj isn’t expecting much but he asks what the photo looks like and wen yuan pulls out this photo from his pocket and lwj immediately recognises it,, it’s the only photo he has of him and wwx

your father is wei ying? lwj asks him and wen yuan is like yes, hesitates, and then asks, would you like to see him?

and that’s how lwj finds himself following wen yuan to some dinky little office that has a plaque outside that reads wen and wei

(wen ning is the nicest and sweetest person ever and lots of people underestimate him but then he’s an absolute monster on court. he gets up and completely decimates the opponent and then at the end is like (: it was so nice to meet you!! i am baby!! and all that,, you know our boy)

anyway they walk in and wwx turns to greet wen yuan but then he sees lwj and is like woah! you! and he’s not sure whether to hide or go and hug lwj so he just gives him a fist bump,, like a bro,, and immediately wants to shrivel up and die

anyway they get the reunion stuff out of the way, swelling music, tender wrist holding, lots of staring, lwj silently declaring his wholehearted love for wwx and refusing to believe rumours about him again even though he doesn’t actually know what happened, you know how it goes

from wwx’s side of things,, after he got kicked out he went to some small uni. good in its own right but not known for their law program and ended up specialising in family law

the first case he ever won was for the wens to have the right to keep custody of a-yuan and the first case wen ning ever won was to let wwx adopt a-yuan bc i’m soft like that

so wwx has just been kinda vibing,, being a single dad, living with the wens and helping to make that difference he always promised he would

now this isn’t gonna be some au where lwj goes oh my! i must give up my high salary job and work with wwx! bc lwj has been doing good stuff at his current job and for all of his family’s stuffiness, they run a fair and just company

but! he does end up helping wwx when wwx gets a letter with a bunch of information about the jins and how they’re actually super corrupt and evil (big surprise,,) and how wwx was maybe definitely framed bc he was doing some casual work on the side and stumbled across some bad shit on the jins back in uni

lwj ends up being the one to take the case officially but wwx is definitely the guy leading it and so lwj ends up spending most of his time at the wen-wei office

lwj definitely bonds with wen yuan, who also wants to go into law, and writes him recommendation letters and helps him edit his applications and stuff

(and one day wen yuan is like leaving you was the hardest thing dad ever did and i dont think you appreciated how much he cared about you. he really did think that he annoyed you ‘til the end and lwj is like no! he didn’t! and wen yuan is like yeah i know but you gotta tell him and lwj really does mean to but the time is never right or something like that but also wen yuan is all but calling lwj dad at this point)

anyway they end up going to court, side by side, working as a team just as they promised to do and just as they finish their final day on the case, ended with the jury ruling jgy guilty and wwx’s reputation all but saved, wwx turns around and flings himself at lwj

is he crying? is he laughing? a bit of both tbh but wwx ends up confessing right then and there, still on record and everything (is that how that works??? idk! let’s say it does)

and what can lwj do but make out with him?

did a news crew come in to film the results of this massive court case just to end up with five minutes of wangxian kissing?? maybe! but when it played on tv it meant wwx and lwj didnt have to actually tell anyone they got together

(and does lwj eventually pop the question using wwx’s bad latinification? yes and wwx is too busy laughing to accept at first but he does and they end up being the worst possible tutors for wen yuan as he goes through law school bc they keep being all gross and lovey-dovey and acting like law school is the most romantic place in the world)

#mdzs #Anonymous #modao zushi #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #cql #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #all of my understanding of law comes from the pelican brief which i read over 10 years ago and one seminar on law courses at uni #so sorry if it's bad #):#lan sizhui #also i stand by wen yuan #let him keep his last name!#my aus #asks

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tonystarktogo · 3 years

Note

Could I pretty pretty please get some more on the time travel crack au? Maybe when it gets out that Steve, Bruce, andThor are technically from the future?

As much as I’d love to jump to that part, I think it’s funnier necessary to cover a few other tidbits first. For example:

Tony misses whatever discussion follows Thor’s -- hah, got it right in one, he hasn’t lost his touch completely yet -- arrival before the god carries his brother off towards a containment cell with the sort of cheer that causes Tony to carefully keep at least two people between himself and Thor, lest the asshole tries to hug him again.

Not that it can be that big a loss considering they all -- sans Loki -- end up back in the command center of the helicarrier, where Fury glares balefully at the most recent invader of his precious aircraft that clearly isn’t meant to stand in the way of gods.

A glare Thor aggressively doesn’t notice. Likely because he’s too busy partaking in the on-going discussion on what to do next.

And by ‘what to do next’ Tony doesn’t mean the expected we-were-invaded-by-a-mindcontrolled-alien-nutbag-and-there’s-probably-more-out-there-seems-like-the-kind-of-oh-shit-situation-we-should-plan-for. No. That would be reasonable and expected and Tony’s spent all of three hours in the company of the esteemed Captain America and already he can tell you that Rogers is none of that.

[Which, not cool, Capsicle. Dazzling and befuddling people with crazily brilliant ideas is his job.]

[continues under the cut]

So far, Tony’s been paying attention for ten minutes. In that time, Rogers and Thor have gotten into an argument over how to handle Loki -- which holy shit, that went from a calm, rational discussion to a battle to the death between two superhumans on a sugar high in zero point four seconds -- that Tony is so not gonna touch. [Nope. Let some other fool [i.e. Rogers] throw himself head-first into norse god family drama, Tony’s own feelings concerning his family are complicated enough.] That conversation devolved into a not-openly-fighting-while-totally-fighting stand-off between Rogers and Banner over a way too bitter comment from the latter [something about ‘you’d know all about choosing one brother over the other, wouldn’t you’ which what?], which in turn gets derailed by Banner needling Thor about the merits of beheading over stabbing.

Romanoff had the good sense to disappear -- probably to interrogate Loki while his apparently protective big brother is distracted, now that Tony thinks about it.

Unfortunately that still leaves Tony stuck here, having to play the role of the mature adult because no one else fucking will. Tony hates being responsible. It’s like being back in high school and being left to do all the work on your own in group project.

[Tony failed that project. Got a straight up zero on purpose because spite is a wonderful motivator. Which, now that Tony thinks about it, doesn’t say anything promising about the current situation.]

Tony leans even further back in his seat, only balancing on the backlegs of the chair, to give Fury a very sharp, very judgemental look.

These are the people you’re betting Earth’s survival on, that look says.

Fury’s already pissed off expression darkens further, which brightens Tony mood substantially. That one of the suit’s sensors flashes green twice in quick succession less than a minute later really just makes for a delicious cherry on the top. Or more precisely a good excuse to ditch this trainwreck of a match-making attempt.

“Whoops,” Tony says, clearly audible but not too loud to draw real attention from the three [still arguing-while-pretending-not-to] stooges on the other end of the room. “Looks like I gotta take this call.”

He jiggles his fingers at Fury. The guy rolls his eyes -- probably jealous that he doesn’t have an excuse himself, that bitch face doesn’t fool Tony -- but no one tries to stop him.

“Alright, J, what do you have for me?”

Tony pretends not to notice the shuffling footsteps. Glances at the disturbingly normal clock on the wall that is so not up-to-date with the rest of the technology in the room, it must be an inside joke. Tony would love to meet the SHIELD agent behind it -- it can’t be easy, being the only person with a sense of humor in an entire agency.

30 minutes.

Well. That’s longer than Tony thought he’d get. JARVIS still hasn’t cracked the last layer on SHIELD’s really fucked up dirt -- and given what he’s already found, that says a lot -- but it’s only a matter of time now. Besides, Tony’s got a job to do.

“To- Stark.”

“Rogers.”

Tony doesn’t turn. Neither does he stop typing.

“What are you doing?”

Tony scoffs. He’s not in the mood to pander to inferior minds -- not when they’re so fucking frustrating, don’t make any sense and worst of all make him do all the work.

“He’s tracking the Tesseract, using the scepter as a point of reference,” Banner says after taking one look at the screen over Tony’s shoulder.

Tony raises his eyebrows, impressed despite himself. Banner’s credentials clearly don’t do him justice -- and they were pretty damn good to begin with.

“Huh,” says Rogers.

Thanks for playing. Now buckle down and make yourself useful or fuck off, Tony wants to snipe but doesn’t get the chance to because the gods -- this god at least -- just aren’t on his side.

“Even without my brother’s help, a weapon of the tesseract’s might should not be underestimated,” Thor speaks up. “Should we not make haste and collect it?”

"Great idea.” Tony’s voice is dryer than the sand dune he crash-landed in back during his fun little trip to Afghanistan. “If only I’d thought of that instead of inventing fifteen new algorithms to try and get a read on SHIELD’s precious magic eight ball while you were busy defending your brother’s honor. Speaking of, I’m pretty sure Romanoff is a greater danger to his virtue than Captain Shockfreeze over there, so why are you still here?”

Okay, maybe poking the hornet nest that is godly family isn’t his smartest move [didn’t he just say he wasn’t gonna touch that?!] but damn if Tony isn’t curious. And also too annoyed to care about unimportant, subjective things like good manners and tact.

He sort of regrets his cavalier attitute a little when Thor sobers. At least there are no tears in sight. Tony is the last person on Earth who should be left unsupervised around crying people. It just never ends well.

“Ah.” Thor sighs heavily, stems his body against an unfortunate table that creaks dangerously. "I’m afraid I can’t afford to see my brother right now.”

It’s the way he says those words, the weight they carry more than anything that tells Tony he needs to drop this issue right now. Talk about one huge trigger button.

Must be inconvenient to have siblings. Tony totally can’t relate.

“Well, in that case, unless you have a magic trick with which you can pull the Tesseract’s position out of your sleeve, how about you sit as far away from these delicate instruments as possible and don’t touch anything while I work my magic, hm?”

Tony doesn’t let his gaze linger on the crushed edge of the table. Thor hasn’t even seemed to notice. He’s too busy lighting up at Tony’s snappish response. Which is surprising. Tony’s aware he’s a bit of an asshole right now. In his defence, he’s an asshole most of the time.

Rogers leaps across the room -- almost crashing into the previously mentioned delicate sensors as he does so -- to slap his palm over Thor’s mouth.

Tony stares. [How quickly can you develop a new habit again? Because this starts to feel like a new habit.]

“That sounds like a great plan!” Rogers beams at him, so wide and fake it must be physically painful for the epitome of all that is good and holy. At least Tony hopes it is. The supersoldier his father worshipped is still clinging to their resident god of thunder’s face.

It’s.

Tony resolutely turns his back on both of them because their madness doesn’t seem to come with a refund-ticket and if Tony doesn’t finish this program, no one will.

Not even Banner -- whom Tony had been kind of hoping for. Speaking of, the man’s been awfully quiet for a while now.

“You alright there, Brucie-Bear?” Tony turns around -- a little because it’s polite to face people when you talk with them and mostly to have an excuse not to watch the ongoing doomed wrestle-match between Blonde 1 and Blonde 2. His awesome nicknaming skill doesn’t get so much as a twitch.

To be fair, Banner is so busy staring straight ahead with the most epic rendition of the World’s Most Thoughtful Expression™ Tony has seen in a while that it doesn’t seem like the man heard him. At all.

Until he suddenly speaks up.

“I think we’ve forgotten something.” Behind Tony the impromptu wrestling comes to a sudden halt.

Probably something negligible like how to focus on a mission, the sarcastic voice in the back of Tony’s mind drawls. Though it should be noted that Tony’s consciousness only comes in sarcastic or not at all. Sorry, everyone, all the other flavors are out.

Banner’s frown deepens. “Something- Something important.”

Right on cue an explosion rocks the aircraft.

There’s a bit more tension in this part than the previous ones. On Tony’s side it’s because he’s smart enough to pick up on Something Is Seriously Wrong, both consciously and subconsciously and also because he feels the pressure what with everyone else apparently not taking this whole thing very seriously.

[Excluding Natasha who, believe me, takes Clint’s fate very serious indeed.]

On our time travellers’ side, they experience the frustration of being unable to talk openly, surrounded by people they don’t trust, trying to play along to the script of a movie they watched like 12 years ago and never revisited. Needless to say they’re failing horrenduously.

#ReRe answers #archangel-of-peace #if you know the future why are you such an idiot 'verse #Tony Stark #Steve Rogers #Bruce Banner #Thor Odinson #Loki #Thor's and Loki's complicated relationship #Tony is done with this shit #Steve continuous to fail at being subtle #Thor continuous to out-do him #fic #shit this got long #me: i'm gonna write a three line text post on a hilarious time travel au #also me: *what feels like 2k later but is hopefully an exaggeration* fuck #ReRe writes #time travel shenanigans #lovely people

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hqbbg · 4 years

Text

remember.

pairing: akaashi x reader

summary: akaashi’s lost his memories and you remember the events leading up to it.

genre: angst

word count: 2.4K

warnings: slight mention of blood, incident of car accident

author’s note: hi y’all! this is my contribution to the Haikyuu Headquarters server collab ✨ the prompt for this one is amnesia and I chose to write for Akaashi, but check out the other writers’ works here! I hope y’all enjoy!

part two.

The smell of the hospital is all too familiar to your senses now. There’s a low buzz of white noise around you as people come and go, walking around and minding their own business. What are they here for? Who are they here for?

You wait patiently for the elevator doors to slide open, your fingers wrung in front of you. You twiddle your thumbs three times before the light comes on above the silver doors accompanied by a ‘ding!’ and you step inside. Your finger immediately presses the button for the fourth floor, and you hold the door open for two more people as they enter the metal box. You ask which floor they need and press the corresponding buttons, watching as the doors close shut, and your steady ascent begins.

It’s quiet, save for the beeping of the elevator every time it reaches a new floor. When you arrive on the fourth floor, you wait a moment before the doors slide open before stepping out. You turn right and see the white sign above the familiar double doors that read ‘Intensive Care Unit’ and press the button for them to open automatically.

A few nurses give you small smiles upon seeing you and you do your best to reciprocate the gesture, though it never quite reaches your eyes. Nowadays, it never does.

Your hands are shaking as you reach for the door handle. The metal feels cold against your fingers and you inhale an unsteady breath before turning the bar. As the door opens, a gust of cold air hits you and the sound of multiple machines beeping fills your ears. You walk in and close the door behind you, setting your bag down on the countertop next to the entrance. Sighing to yourself, you pull the same chair you’ve been using for the past several days up to the edge of the bed and seat yourself in it. You sit in silence for a moment, unable to tear your eyes away from the main source of your joy—although, he was the current source of your heartache—Akaashi Keiji.

Had it not been for the various tubes connected to him and the reason behind this situation, he almost looked peaceful. You lift a hand and brush some hair away from his closed eyes, allowing your fingers to linger a little longer as you float them along the frame of his face. You bite your lip and hold back the tears beginning to line your eyes as your hand retracts back towards yourself.

You hum along to the song playing on the radio and keep your eyes fixed on the moving buildings and cars around you. You feel Akaashi’s thumb rubbing soothing circles around your own, squeezing your intertwined fingers every so often. As the current song comes to an end, you reach over with your empty hand and grab his phone from its spot in the console and unlock it to queue up the next couple of songs. As you do so, his phone buzzes and an unfamiliar name appears accompanied by a message.

What are you doing right now? :)

You frown slightly but choose to disregard it and continue to queue up three more songs. You look over at him and see that he continues to keep his eyes fixed on the road, completely unaware of what’s going on. You put the phone back down and debate on whether or not you should address it or not.

“Hey, you got a message,” you finally say after a few moments.

Akaashi’s eyes flicker over to you for a brief moment.

“I’ll just read it later.”

You hum in acknowledgement and decide to ignore the bubbling curiosity settling within your stomach.

Your eyes flit over to the heart monitor beeping behind the bed and you trace the cadence of each steady beat. You lower your gaze back down and sigh again. You lift your hand and grasp Akaashi’s, giving it a soft squeeze.

The breeze feels good against your skin and you inhale the fresh air with a smile on your face. The two of you finally arrived at your favorite lookout point and the city below still bustles with activity. You turn around and feel the corner of your lips falter when you see Akaashi on his phone, his thumbs tapping quickly along the screen. You turn back around and remind yourself that it’s nothing, probably just someone from work or something.

“Hey, I have to make a call really quick,” he says. You turn your head and nod.

“Okay, I’ll set everything up.”

He smiles apologetically as he takes a few steps away from the car. You choose not to dwell on it and make your way to the car to set up the little picnic the two of you had planned together.

Just as you finish setting everything up, Akaashi makes his way over and presses a kiss against your forehead.

“Sorry, I’m here now. Thanks for setting up.”

You tell him it’s no problem, simply happy with the fact that he’s here now as the two of you sit down. You hear his phone buzz and try to ignore him as he pulls the device out, typing again.

Tears continue to line your eyes as your fingers trace over his knuckles, feeling how prominent they’ve become under his skin. You lift his hand to your lips and press a small kiss against it, gently setting it back down at his side.

He’s so still. Had you not known any better, he reminded you of a living photograph.

For a split second, you could’ve sworn you saw his finger move ever so slightly but figure you’d just imagined it. You miss hearing his voice, feeling his arms around you, just him in general.

“I’m so full,” you sigh in content as you begin to clean up around yourself.

The sun has already begun setting and it’s starting to get dark. As the two of you continue to collect your things, you hear his phone buzz again with yet another text notification. At this point, you’ve lost count of how many times he’d stopped to respond. You want to ask, but you can’t help but feel as if you’re just being paranoid for no reason. However, he’s been on his phone more than he’s even looked you in the eyes tonight.

When you’re both done, you head back to the car and get inside, sitting patiently for him to start up the engine. He sits in the driver’s seat, eyes still fixed on his phone with the slightest trace of a smile on his lips. You can’t help but feel a little irked and albeit a bit jealous, so you finally decide to ask, deciding that you’ve waited enough.

“Who is it?”

“Hm?” Akaashi finally looks up from his phone and blinks innocently at you.

“You’ve been on your phone all night long,” you can’t resist the small pout on your lips.

“Sorry, love,” he says as he puts his phone down. “One of my coworkers just had a question about an upcoming project.”

“Do they know that tonight was supposed to be our date night?” You ask, trying your best to maintain an indifferent demeanor, though the question comes out more aggressively than you’d intended.

Akaashi doesn’t seem to mind, offering another apologetic smile. You do your best to stand your ground, though his smile alone makes you feel like you’re crumbling.

“It was just time sensitive,” he says. “I’ll be sure we aren’t interrupted for our next date night, okay?”

He reaches for your hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He starts the engine and you feel at ease, mentally scolding yourself for getting worked up over nothing.

You grasp onto Akaashi’s hand again, missing its warmth. Right now, all you want is for him to squeeze back reassuringly, remind you that everything’s going to be okay.

The doctors had explained to you that he would be able to recover quickly so long as he followed the proper procedures once he was conscious. Even in this state, he was already improving greatly. He just needs to wake up. You need him to wake up.

The drive home is dark. You watch the road ahead of you as Akaashi rests his right hand on your thigh. You continue to reprimand yourself internally for overthinking things, even having the audacity to suspect your otherwise perfect boyfriend.

He treats you so well, taking care of you, and putting up with the different mood swings you’d have from time to time.

“You’re being quiet,” Akaashi breaks the silence first.

“Hm?” You look over at him.

“You seem to be deep in thought,” he says, giving your thigh a slight squeeze before removing his hand altogether. You shake your head—whether it’s to shake yourself back into focus or to rid yourself of other thoughts, you’re not sure.

“I’m just thinking about you,” you reply. It’s not a lie.

Akaashi’s ears and cheeks tint a soft pink at your forwardness.

“Care to elaborate?”

You shake your head again, though this time it’s more playful.

“My thoughts will stay within my head,” you say, grinning to yourself.

As the two of you continue to converse, you both fail to notice a car nearing the intersection at full speed.

You could’ve sworn you just felt Akaashi’s fingers move in your hands. The first time might’ve been a hallucination, but this time, you definitely felt it. You let go of his hand and quickly make your way towards the door, reaching for the handle and pulling the door open. You quickly get the attention of the closest nurse nearby and explain what had happened. He nods and follows you back to the room.

You stop dead in your tracks, feeling your heart flutter with emotion as gunmetal blue eyes stare back at you. Just as you’re about to run over and throw your arms around him, Akaashi opens his mouth to speak.

“Who are you?”

His voice is hoarse, not having been used in days, but you heard him loud and clear.

“I’m one of the nurses here—”

Akaashi shakes his head, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“Who are you?”

In three simple words, it feels like your world is falling apart faster than you can pick up the pieces. He doesn’t have the same soft smile you’re used to, the same warmth and love in his eyes. Instead, he’s guarded, and confusion is written all over his face.

“I need to go get a doctor. I’ll be right back,” the nurse says, quickly rushing out of the room. You’re left alone once again.

“Do you not know who I am?” You frown, approaching him slowly.

“Should I?” Akaashi shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows. This can’t be happening.

“We’ve been dating for over a year,” you respond, feeling tears prickling your eyes once again. “Come on, Keiji, it’s me.”

Your voice comes out weaker than you’d anticipated and the look of indifference you’re receiving in return hurts.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are,” he says politely. You open your mouth to say something else, but the door swings open and a doctor accompanied by a couple nurses walks in.

You’re unsure of what happened. One moment, you’re having a good time with your boyfriend, but the next, you feel your body jerking in multiple directions as the car spins out of control. The sound of glass shattering accompanied by a soft sting of pieces cutting across your skin is sharp in the night.

There isn’t much noise—though, you’re unsure if it’s because the ringing in your ears is too loud to notice—and your eyes feel out of focus. You look over and see Akaashi slumped over, a thick and dark red liquid seeping from the side of his head and beginning to stain his shirt.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you call out for Akaashi, but he doesn’t respond. You continue to scream and cry for him to wake up, preparing for the worst until your throat feels raw. You ignore the pain and stiffness in your neck, gripping onto his bleeding arm and shake him. You’re unsure of how much time passes, but soon you hear sirens and suddenly, your world is black.

“He’s showing signs of amnesia,” the doctor sighs heavily as she looks through the chart on her clipboard. “He’s retained his basic motor skills, but he doesn’t seem to remember much of anything in the past couple of years. This is probably a result from a really intense concussion. When we scanned him for brain damage, we didn’t see anything intense, so it could be possible that this is short-term memory loss.”

“How can he get his memories back?” You bite your lip nervously, trying to hold back the tears so that you can hear out the doctor’s orders appropriately.

“Unfortunately, there’s no promise that he’ll get his memories back at all,” the doctor sighs. “You can try to jog his memory, but there’s a potential risk in doing so; you’d be writing new memories in and forcing him to believe that as reality. It’s quite easy to take advantage of.”

You nod, though you’re still trying to wrap your head around everything.

“The best thing you can do is give him time,” she says. “I understand this is hard for you, but I will also suggest consider making new memories with him.”

You nod again, this time more understandingly.

“When can he be discharged?”

“I’d like to keep an eye on him for a few more days, but after that, he’s home free. Also, I don’t know if this will help you feel better, but some patients can end up getting their memories with a single trigger and everything is fine.”

“Thank you,” you say to the doctor, sighing softly to yourself.

“We have to run some more tests on the patient, but please keep an open mind,” she says. “He’ll be back home before you know it.”

You ride the train back to your shared apartment, feeling numb all over. You’re happy he’s finally awake, but he doesn’t remember you. He doesn’t remember the memories you’ve made together and the idea that he never will twists your stomach into a knot, bringing tears to your eyes.

You want him to remember and you’ll do whatever it takes for him to do so.

#akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #akaashi haikyuu #akaashi angst #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu headquarters #akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 3 years

Text

Spells and Sneezes

I needed to try some Fantasy sickfic, and also practice my “stuffy talk”, so have ~3700 words of a very sneezy, stuffed up sorcerer. This post was inspired by a prompt I saw from this site long ago about a tall, thin, sneezy warlock, but I can’t find that post again to link it to save my life. So generic thanks to whoever came up with the prompt!

“Hehhtt’SSCCHHEEEWW!!

The tickle he thought he’d stifled exploded out of him unexpectedly as a massive, wet sneeze. The tall, young sorcerer groaned and wiped his dripping nose wearily with an already sodden handkerchief. His entire workbench was now covered in the spray. He sighed dejectedly, glancing out the window, the weak afternoon sunlight offering little comfort.

He had been stuck on this spell for days now, and the deadline was fast approaching. And this wasn’t just any order, this was for the KING. He was preparing to wage war and was looking for chainmail woven with a defense spell for 3,000 of his top officers. The king had chosen him to fill this order because defense spells had been his specialty during his apprenticeship, but for some reason this powerful chain was toying with him. If he could get just one prototype together, making the rest would be the work of a day. But he had not been able to make even one yet.

He groaned again, wincing as he continued to wipe his raw, dripping nose. His head hurt. His throat hurt. His eyes hurt. His chest hurt from all the coughing he’d been doing. But he couldn’t rest until this was done.

He summoned the chair he had shoved aside a few minutes ago. Neither sitting nor standing seemed to help him concentrate better, so he kept going back and forth. He leaned his head in his hand and picked up his quill again, scratching sigils fruitlessly.

A merry knock startled him and he leapt to his feet, his lithe frame quivering. For a moment he imagined it was the king’s advisors coming to collect the spell a week early. Instead, his younger sister poked her head in, waving cheerily.

“Brother, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost! Did I startle you? I’m sorry. It has been some weeks since I’ve seen you, and I wanted to check on you.”

She bustled in, her cleaning cart clattering behind her and parking itself by the door. Elliamina was a kitchen witch, and renowned throughout the land for her cleaning abilities, especially for never having an apprenticeship of her own. She had helped her older brother with his studies, being the more studious of the two, and had picked up some knowledge of her own, enough to make her own way in the world without formal training.

She danced over, wrapping her arms around him warmly. She was almost a meter shorter than him, but otherwise they were nearly identical, though there was a 5 year span between them. The length of their hair was the only difference. Elmrador weakly returned her hug, his heart still pounding.

“Good to see you, Mina. I have missed you. I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you, but I’ve been quite busy with orders of late. I can’t visit long today though. I have much work to do.”

“Well, at least let me give your cottage a quick tidy while I’m here.” She stepped back and surveyed him, cocking her head. “You are ill, brother.” Her mouth immediately quirked down sadly.

It was a statement, not a question. He also frowned. “I am fine.”

As if only to betray him, a hoarse coughing fit snuck up on him, leaving him red and breathless. He rubbed his chest ruefully. “Or at any rate, I don’t need you fussing. I need to finish this order. It’s for the king.”

“Hm.” She looked at him skeptically. “I have the supplies to make a tonic for you. Let me give you that at least. You look miserable.”

He grunted his approval. “As long as you don’t mix it with a sleeping draught.”

“If that's what you want,” she said, rolling her eyes. She flitted back to her cart and began to mix up a simple potion. Meanwhile, he seated himself again and resumed his scribbling. Another dratted tickle was growing in his nose though, which was streaming in earnest. He mopped the drips, to no avail.

“Ah… ah… Ahhkkt’shoooooo!” His handkerchief caught only part of the spray due to how sodden and crumpled it was, and his workbench was once again covered. Mina was at his side in a moment, rubbing his back.

“Poor dear! Elm, you sound awful. You should be in bed.”

“As soon as I work this through.”

She sighed and shook her head, handing him the steaming tonic. He took it with a grateful smile and gulped it down before taking up his quill again, rubbing his hands together to warm them before he did.

Seeing he didn’t intend to chat further, she began to clean his one room cottage. It was all he needed, just the right amount of space. He kept it cozy and neat for the most part, but when he was busy, cleaning was the last thing on his mind, which is one of the reasons she liked to visit often. She genuinely loved cleaning, especially for people she cared about. She began at the ceiling, sweeping down cobwebs and dusting the corners as she sang to herself. Elm personally thought her singing was a big component of her magic, though she denied it.

After the ceiling, she moved to the walls and cupboards. Elm found himself watching her idly rather than working. He turned back to his papers, shaking his throbbing head, trying to clear it. The tonic seemed to be affecting his fever. He had previously been shivering in the warm room, but now he was starting to sweat. The congestion seemed to be leaving his chest but was streaming out of his nose in earnest.

He didn’t know where his other handkerchiefs were, so he kept using the current one, but it was getting less and less effective as his sniffles got wetter and wetter. It wasn’t long before he started sneezing, both from his overactive nose, and the dust his sister was creating.

“Errr’sssHUUH! ErrrRIESSH’shew! Ehhhkxxt’SHEEEWW!”

Mina threw down her duster in exasperation. “I don’t know how you can stand to keep working. *I* can hardly work with you like this!”

He shrugged petulantly, rubbing his red nose. “Well, if you weren’dt kickig ub so mbuch dusdt…”

“Oh! Is the tonic not helping? It shouldn’t make you sound like that.”

“Idt helped the cough. Bud idt mbade mby ndose worse,” he mumbled weakly.

She rolled her eyes. “That tonic works on everyone else, except stubborn sorcerers. I bet your magic is going haywire and counteracting it. Especially without the sleeping effect.”

“Thadt’s ndot mby fauldt.” He shivered and coughed softly, summoning a blanket to wrap around his shoulders as he was suddenly freezing instead of sweating.

She sighed and moved to his side again, rubbing his back some more. He leaned against her wearily.

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Ndo. I worgk best adt ndight.”

“Poor dear. You’re exhausted. No wonder you’re ill. What has got you so worked up?”

She glanced at the papers spread before him. “Chainmail woven with defense? Clever. Lucky you, getting an interesting project like this.”

“Idt’s driving mbe to distraction. I can’dt quide sordt it oudt.”

Her sharp eyes roved over the parchment quickly. “Your writing is terrible when you’re ill. I can hardly make it out. Ah, but here’s one of the reasons you're having trouble--half of these sigils appear to be reversed. See these here? They’re meaningless. Don’t tell me you’ve been working with them like this?”

He groaned pathetically. “They weren’dt like thadt whend I wrote themb! I ndo they weren’dt!”

She reached out and tried to feel his forehead. He batted her hand away before she could. She frowned.

“You know your magic is unpredictable when something is wrong with you, brother. My guess is you sneezed on these and they reversed themselves. You’re positively crackling with stray mana. Not to mention you’re probably feverish. You need to take some rest.”

“I can’dt. I have to deliver 3,000 of these in a weegk’s time, and I haven’dt even godden one yedt.”

“You’re not being productive like this though.”

“Ndeither are you. I thoughdt you were cleanig.”

She swatted him playfully. “See to yourself first, Elmrador, before you worry about me.”

Shaking her head, she reluctantly went back to her cleaning. The thin sorcerer directed his gaze back to his work, slowly fixing the reversed sigils, but he couldn’t get his eyes to stay in focus. They were so heavy. Everything was blurred around the edges.

His head was overwhelmingly heavy too, and achingly throbbing. He let it drop to the workbench, the cool wood pleasant on his hot forehead. He let his mouth hang open and tried to breathe, letting his nose drip gently into his handkerchief.

He must have dozed off, because Elliamina’s touch startled him some moments later. He turned to look at her, his cheek still on the bench.

“Why are you fighting yourself? You’re no good to anyone like this. The project can wait.”

“Will you mbake mbe some tea?” he asked pitifully, changing the subject.

She rubbed his back, surveying him keenly. “I’ll make you some tea if you take it in bed.”

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded, slowly pulling the blanket closer to himself as he rose and shuffled to the corner where his bed stood. He clumsily discarded his outer tunic and boots as he went, kicking them aside before falling onto the mattress and heaping blankets and pillows over himself, dozing immediately. His sister busied herself boiling the water and preparing the tea leaves.

When it was ready, she shook him awake again and helped him sit up.

“I can do idt mbyself,” he muttered, shaking her off.

“You’re worn out enough,” she chided gently. “So let me help.”

He couldn’t argue with that. The tea was sweet and hot, the perfect temperature to start drinking immediately. But naturally, the warm liquid made his nose stream in earnest. His sister had been fussing around, fluffing his pillows and picking up his discarded clothes. When she noticed his sodden handkerchief, long past its usefulness, she quickly summoned another. He took it with a grateful smile, though the effect was somewhat ruined by his watery eyes. He blew his nose several times, but his sinuses were stopped tight, and blowing just made his head throb terribly.

Once the tea was gone and he had finally stopped shivering, he felt he couldn't keep his eyes open for another minute. He fell back into the bed as Elliamina dimmed the lights and covered him warmly.

Mina watched as he seemed to slip into a doze immediately. After a moment, she returned to her cleaning. She had made up her mind that she would stay here with him until he was over the worst of this. And since she would be here for a while, she had decided she would scour his cottage from top to bottom.

However, her brother couldn't seem to settle. He tossed and turned, coughing more and more often, the most awful-sounding fits. Finally he rolled over and opened his eyes, looking at her pitifully.

"I can'dt sleebp," he croaked. "First I'mb sweatig, then I'mb freezig. And I can'dt breathe for the coughig."

She clicked her tongue, coming to his side. She felt his forehead and cheeks, and this time he let her, leaning his head into her hand.

“You are so warm, Elm,” she tutted, brushing the sweaty hair off of his brow. “Would you like me to make you another tonic, a stronger one to help you sleep?”

He hesitated, then nodded miserably.

“Just a moment, then.” She trotted to her cart, ingredients flying to her hands before she had even reached it. She made a potion double the strength of the first one, with a strong dash of sleeping draught. Turning, she made her way back to the bed with the steaming mug as her brother once more struggled into a sitting position, hindered by another coughing fit.

He swallowed the mixture in a few gulps, grimacing, whether from the taste or his sore throat, she wasn’t sure. Then, she helped him lie back yet again, propping him up with pillows so he could breathe easier. The process seemed to wear him out. His eyes drifted closed immediately.

Elliamina tucked him in, straightening the blankets around him. He mumbled something incoherent as sleep overcame him.

“What did you say?”

“Stay with mbe,” he mumbled, his wheezy exhale turning into a snore.

“Don’t worry, I will,” she whispered, though she knew he did not hear.

Elliamina spent the rest of the evening puttering around, finishing her deep scour, making soup for when her brother woke, tending to his garden, and other domestic things that she had helped him with since they were children. She gave special attention to his workbench. She cleaned it and sanitized it thoroughly, even using a special cleansing spell on the parchment he had been working on. Sure enough, as soon as it was clean, she saw many of the sigils reverse themselves to what they should be. With a little smile, she replaced the papers where she had found them. Meanwhile, the tonic did its job admirably; Elmrador hardly moved, and he was breathing much easier. The only sound he made for many hours was soft, even snoring.

Evening turned into night. Mina was an early sleeper and early riser. As soon as the sun was down, she made a little nest for herself with extra blankets and pillows on the freshly scoured floor in front of the fireplace. She was weary from her day’s efforts, and dropped off to sleep without any effort, expecting her brother to sleep soundly through the night as well.

Imagine her surprise when she was awakened by him jumping out of bed in the middle of the night and running to his workbench, lighting candles hastily as he went. He banged down into his desk chair, picked up his quill, and began scribbling furiously, muttering to himself.

“Elm? What ails you?” she yawned, getting to her feet and wrapping her shawl around herself to go stand at his side, feeling his forehead. His temperature seemed almost normal, though his cheeks were flushed. He paid her no mind.

“The spell. It came to me in my sleep. I know what I was missing.” He sniffled wetly, wiping his sleeve under his nose, but continued scribbling away.

“I shan’t try to reason with you, since you’re so determined, though I wonder how you’re awake at all for how strong that tonic was. I don’t want to imagine the state you’ll be in in the morning.” She sighed softly. He seemed fine for now, but the tonic could only mask symptoms for so long.

With a shrug, she shuffled back to her nest. As she went, she mumbled: “Fates help you if you wake me again, though.” In front of the fire once more, she burrowed into her blankets, and was quickly lulled to sleep by the sound of his quill and his muttering.

It was a harsh cough that woke her again in the morning, just as the sun was beginning to rise, but not hers. She yawned and stretched luxuriously. For a moment she forgot where she was, until a wet sneeze made her turn.

Elmrador was just as she had left him the night before, hunched over his workbench. Spread out all around him were what appeared to be hundreds of chain shirts, and more were in the process of being finished. However, her brother looked more asleep than awake as he worked. Harsh, dark circles ringed his eyes, vivid against his pallor, as was his raw, chapped nose. Just as she noted this, the nose disappeared into his handkerchief .

“Hrrr’RUSH’eeww! Ahh’NNXGH’shuuh!”

“Oh Elm,” she murmured fondly. “You are in quite a state now, aren’t you?”

“Mbina… Good mornig. Loogk, I fidished mby prototype. Idt’s mby best worgk, I thingk.”

“It had better be, for you to be working as ill as you areYou look awful. You ought to go back to bed right away.”

“Id a few mbinutes. As sood as I fidish these three, I’ll have 300 done. Thed I cad automate themb to reblicate thembselves.”

Such a long speech made him cough harshly, his voice long gone. She tutted disapprovingly. “You’ll be in bed for a week after this. You’ve done yourself in, stubborn fool.

“Id was worth idt,” he said, almost smugly. “Idt’s for the king.”

“So you said,” she said, yet again rolling her eyes. “We’ll see if you can say the same in a few days.”

A hoarse grunt was his only reply. He had gone back to his work and needed all his remaining concentration to finish.

Seeing that he wasn’t moving until he reached his target, Elliamina did her own washing and grooming, cleaned up her bedding, and got coffee and breakfast going. Just as she was putting the eggs on, she saw him toss down his tools with a final flourish. However, as he said, the chain mail materials continued to manipulate themselves to form more armor even as Elmrador wearily stood, scrubbing his face and swiping at his dripping nose with a once again sodden handkerchief.

A round of rough, barking coughs made him hunch over again a moment later, a hand pressed to his chest. A weak “ow” was all he could manage as he tried to catch his breath, a hand now at his temple.

“I didn’t thingk coughig could hurdt so mbuch,” he wheezed.

“Only when you push your body past its limit. Come along, it’s bed for you for the foreseeable future, you dunce.” She moved to his side and grasped his elbow, leading him back to his mattress.

“You don’dt ndeed to help mbe walk, I’m ndot an invalid, only full of cold,” he muttered, trying to pull away. Mina was not dissuaded.

“Be that as it may, I’d rather help you get there just the same. You look as if a strong breeze will blow you over, and then where would I be?”

He deigned not to reply and instead allowed her to seat him on the edge of the bed where he swayed weakly as she helped him remove his sweaty clothes and don his nightshirt before propping him up against a heap of pillows, as his wheezy breathing was rather worrying her. She plied him once more with tea and tonic, which he accepted without a fuss. Then she brought over the plate of steaming eggs and toast. He made a face and pushed it away.

“I don’dt like eggs even whed I’mb ndot sick. I cerdainly don’dt wandt themb ndow.”

“Ah, so that’s why you have so many eggs. Well, would you at least eat the toast?”

He grunted noncommittally and took a half-hearted bite, taking a long time to chew and swallow. He only managed to finish half a slice before he pushed that away too. “Can’dt. Throadt hurdts too mbuch. Jusdt mbakes mbe feel sicker.” He gamely finished his tea though as she watched worriedly.

“You never turn down food. You’re already a beanstalk, Elm. I wish you would eat something.”

A rough cough was the only reply he could manage as he quickly coasted toward sleep once again. Mina sighed and decided to let him sleep, putting the food aside. That was what he needed most now anyway.

And sleep he did, for a long time. Yet his work was not done. He had to get up for a few hours the next day, for once all the shirts were complete he had to do the final quality review of the armor. Elliamina hovered worriedly at his elbow as he did intricate magic to test the limits of his creations. He was so weak he could hardly stand, arms shaking and face flushed as he cast. He had to sit often to catch his breath and wait out bouts of lightheadedness or coughs, but he would be damned before he delivered a subpar product to the king. Mina assisted him as best as she was able, doing whatever she could for his health and ensuring he didn't harm himself.

After hours of rigorous testing, he finally pronounced them suitable, while Elmrador himself ached with weariness. Without another word, he proceeded to crawl back into bed and bury himself in blankets, immediately beginning to snore as one deeply exhausted.

He passed most of the next several days in an illness and tonic-induced slumber. He was miserable when he was awake, every fiber of his being aching or throbbing. Mina forced him to eat and drink whenever she could, but mostly he wanted to sleep, and she let him do just that.

He was in fact asleep when the king's men arrived for the armor. A small crew of men rode up to the cottage with much pomp and ceremony. Mina greeted them in the garden, introducing herself as the sorcerer's assistant. They were immediately enthralled with her, as was everyone that met her for the first time, and she utilized this to expertly manage the transaction. Within 20 minutes the men were departing with many sacks of chain shirts in their cart, ecstatic with their purchase, while Mina carried a hefty pouch of gold, more than Elm had originally bargained for, into the cottage. Elmrador was still asleep, oblivious to it all. She knew he had lost track of the days some time ago, and she didn't see a reason to excite him until he was better.

Instead of waking him, she safely hid the gold in his stores. She then pulled up her chair once more to her place beside his bed, took up her needlework, and softly began to hum as she worked while her brother slept on peacefully.

#sickfic #sicknario #Sickness #snzfic #snzblr #snzario #fantasy #spellcasting #MY OCs #fever #everyone is hotter with a fever #story prompt

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amethystroselilith · 3 years

Text

Intertwined Fates (Chilumi/Zhonglumi) - Chapter 3

Uni is still hell ngl .-.

Can be read in ao3 here

SUMMARY: Lumine feels like everything's falling right back into place as she looks forward to hers and Ajax's new chapter of their lives.The past stays in the past, right?

WARNING: Please be informed about the change of rating! This chapter includes ChiLumi smut, er, I'm not used to writing smut so I hope this one turned out fine... I'm more of a fluff writer but I wanna write new things :)

“Wow, sis, getting married twice while your older brother had never even popped the question to anyone.” Aether whistled after Lumine told him about her engagement, “A really beautiful ring too.” he was holding Lumine’s hand, observing the jewellery.

Lumine had already told her twin all about what happened on the very same day she got engaged, however, they didn’t really talk too long cause 1) Aether was out shopping with Keqing and 2) Ajax wanted to pull Lumine back into their little bubble again.

They are currently preparing for the day, Aether prepping the fresh fruits for their baked goods’ filling and toppings, while Lumine take notes of the special orders due for the day.

Lumine smiled warmly as she looked at the ring, “It was crafted by Ajax’s parents. I mean, it’s still annoying what Mom did, but at the same time… It just… I mean… It’s like…”

Aether smiled softly at how giddy his sister is acting, he never seen her this excited ever since… she started dating Zhongli. He never doubted his sister’s love for Ajax, but he could see the slight anxiousness in her eyes behind her smile when she announced they’re dating. Aether was worried he gave her bad advice about following her heart, but seeing the glow her sister is emitting, he can rest easy.

“Everything’s going to be alright again?” Aether finished for her.

“Yeah.” her face turned soft, “I love him so much,” she whispered as she held her hand to her chest, softly caressing the ring.

“Looks like I have to wait until I can propose to Keqing.” Aether chuckled, putting fresh fruits on a bowl for later use.

Lumine tensed at the realisation, “Oh my god… Were you…? Aeth, I’m so sorry…” she squeaked a bunch of apologies before Aether stopped her.

“Nah… Not really, I was just thinking about it though,” Aether said before sighing, “But then Keqing announced about a big business project and you know how she is, she’s going to be so busy for months.”

Lumine hummed, knowing full well of her brother’s workaholic girlfriend, “Well, it can be a nice little surprise after.” she suggested as she started lining up cupcakes for their displays later.

“I suppose so,” Aether thought about it, “but I guess I’ll start worrying about that when the time comes.” he shrugged.

“Knock, knock!” a cheery voice arrived.

“Xiangling, hey.” the twins greeted with a smile.

“Was there something wrong with the desserts we delivered?” Lumine asked.

Xiangling’s restaurant was just beside them, which gave Xiangling the great idea of working together, the twins share their desserts with her, she makes café meals for them. Xiangling, however, is usually very busy during work hours, only coming to visit when something is urgent.

“Oh, no, they’re amazing as usual!” Xiangling walked to Lumine, Guoba hanging on her back, before giving her a big hug, “Just want to say congrats to your engagement!”

Lumine’s eyes widened, “A-ah, how did you know?”

Xiangling looked at her with a confused expression, “Your mom posted a picture of her and Qiqi playing with a caption, ‘Spending time with my beautiful grandbaby to give her mother and my future son-in-law a break’. The last part is kinda weird if you ask me, but the comments are full of congratulations to the newly engaged couple so I assumed…”

The twins sighed, of course, their mother wouldn’t respect their privacy. Lumine wondered what would’ve happened if they didn’t actually become engaged, but Lumine knows this is probably her mother’s doing of pushing her into it. She's glad she made the choice for herself.

“I was hoping to ask everyone to dinner at your restaurant so Ajax and I can announce it ourselves but it looks like mother beat us to it.” Lumine sighed but smile after, “But thanks, Xiangling! I appreciate you coming here just for me.” she said after giving her a hug, giving Guoba pats when he whined for it.

“Well, also wanted you to know that we hold wedding receptions too. I hope we’re fancy enough for your mother.” Xiangling teased.

“With your face and restaurant all over the news, I’m sure mother will be kissing your ass when she sees you.” Aether snickered.

“Well, she may do that, but if she ever did something out of the line to you guys, I won’t hesitate to fight her,” Xiangling said with a serious expression, Guoba growling to add effect.

“Thank you, guys.” Lumine chuckled.

“Much appreciated.” Aether smiled, “Here, have some Pie Mon, on the house.”

Xiangling’s eyes sparkled, Guoba drooling behind her, “Oh my god, you know I can never resist this. I’ll be sending something extra special for your lunch!” she grinned before taking the dessert, “Well, I should head back to prep work, can’t leave Dad alone in the kitchen because he always ends up terrorizing the whole staff.”

“Of course, of course.” Lumine chuckled, “Thanks, Xiang!”

They all said their goodbyes before Xiangling left.

“Speaking of staff, do you think it’s time to promote…” Aether began talking about their staff members as they work.

The door once again opened, and Lumine can’t help freeze when she was met with cold eyes.

“I guess you’re finally replacing my brother,” Xiao stated coldly before taking his eyes off her and starting on doing his share of prep work.

It received a glare from Aether and a frown from Lumine.

While Xiao has always been quiet and reserved, he and Lumine had become close when she started dating Zhongli. Xiao had always been protective of Zhongli but after seeing how much she affected her brother, how much happier and brighter she made him, Xiao can’t help but love and respect her as well. They became close, and Xiao treasured that bond.

When his brother died, Xiao tried his best to be Lumine’s rock, it’s what his brother would like, but Xiao was grieving as well, it wasn’t an easy task to stay strong for himself and his sister-in-law, so he was glad Ajax was keeping them both afloat. Ajax was someone Xiao respects as well, he was there for him and his brother, helping them every way he can. Xiao thinks his brother is blessed with Ajax and Lumine.

That was until Xiao started seeing some things changing.

How their touches aren’t platonic anymore.

How Ajax’s kisses aren’t playful anymore.

How Lumine’s heart isn’t with Zhongli anymore.

Xiao felt sick when they announced their relationship, while their friends congratulated them, he excused himself, left them and went to Zhongli’s tomb. He felt so angry, he ranted how Ajax betrayed him, how Lumine replaced him, how unfair it is for everyone to just forget about him. And then he started sobbing, crying about how he felt so alone ever since Zhongli left him.

It was different ever since that day, while he tried to stay civil, even tried acting friendly as they interact with work, Xiao just can’t help but feel bitter and angry every time Ajax would visit Lumine. He knows they talked about it, knows Lumine asked Ajax to tone down the affection when he’s around. That’s just how Lumine is, putting others before herself.

‘Shame it didn’t apply to Zhongli.’ he thought bitterly.

“Xiao, Zhongli would want Lumine to be happy,” Aether stated, receiving a pleading look from Lumine to let it go.

“I’m sure he’ll be way happier knowing he wasn’t replaced.” Xiao simply stated, not looking at anything but what he was doing.

Aether was about to defend Lumine, but his twin stopped him.

Lumine sighed, “Xiao, I know you don’t agree with Ajax’s and mine’s relationship, but please never say I replaced Zhongli.”

Xiao glared at her with a hiss, “But you did-”

“Zhongli has a place in my heart, and he always will.” Lumine looked at him straight in the eye, “I love your brother so much, and I will forever.” she said, “It’s just there are some things we can’t help.” she sighed, “I have to admit, I was unsure of being with Ajax before, but as I come to terms of accepting my feelings, it made things so much better. He helped me get back on my feet again, take care of Qiqi, make me feel happy again. There are just some things we can’t control, but that doesn’t mean we’re replacing Zhongli.”

Deep inside, Xiao knows that, he’s just having a hard time accepting it.

Xiao broke the eye contact, sadness replacing the anger.

Lumine put down her utensils, before walking to Xiao. He flinched away when she tried to touch him.

“Xiao, you may hate us for that, but please remember that Zhongli will always have a place in our hearts. Also please remember that you have a place in our home as well,” she said softly, making Xiao look at her.

Lumine smiled, “We’re family, and we always will be. Just because Zhongli is gone, it severed our bond, you know? You’re still a brother to me, and I’m sure Ajax feels the same way.”

Xiao stayed quiet, but he didn’t move when Lumine tried to pull him to a hug.

“I miss him,” Xiao said quietly.

~~~

“Will he be alright?” Ajax asked in worry, an arm folded behind his head while the other wrapped around his fiancée.

“I didn’t receive any cold treatment after, though he is a bit hesitant when approaching me. I guess we should still tone it down whenever he’s around, Aether also suggested an outing for us, make sure Xiao remembers that he’s still part of our family even without Zhongli. For now, Chongyun said he and Xingqui will cheer him up.” Lumine said fingers playing with Ajax’s shirt.

This had always been part of their routine, after putting Qiqi to sleep, the two of them will just cuddle on their bed, talking about their day or anything really.

“Hm, I feel a bit guilty for not contacting him often. He seemed to despise me ever since we came out, but I guess it’s also time for us to have a talk about it.” Ajax sighed as he remembered the angry glare he managed to catch from Xiao before he left.

“We can’t really blame him. Zhongli was the one who raised and cared for him, so it’s just natural he’s very loyal to him and can’t stand the thought of his brother being replaced. I already talked to him about it, but I think it’s going to take a bit of time for him to understand that.”

The atmosphere suddenly felt so heavy, as usual, whenever Zhongli becomes the subject of whatever they’re talking about. Despite their assurance that they’re not replacing Zhongli, there’s still the lingering guilt deep within them that resurfaces when it comes to Zhongli and their relationships.

Sensing this, Ajax stirred the conversation to a much lighter topic, “Xingqiu’s all over the news today.” he said talking about Xiao’s roommate who’s a rising author, “Looks like he finally has his breakthrough.” he chuckled.

“Oh yeah, our customers were also talking about it. I should purchase one soon actually.” Lumine hummed, “Speaking of which, by the way, we need to help them look for another apartment.” she added with a sigh, “Razor said it was the 8th time Bennett almost burned down the whole building and the tenants just can’t take it anymore.”

“...Didn’t they just move in there a month ago?”

“...Yep…”

Ajax chuckled, “To be honest, at this point, I think it’s more practical to just buy or rent a house lot more than a condominium building.”

“That’s what I told them, I’m pretty sure they’ll look into it considering it’s the fifth time they’ve been evicted this year… and we haven’t even reached half of the year yet.”

They stayed quiet for a while, just enjoying each other’s presence.

Ajax’s soft breathing was lulling Lumine to sleep, that was until she felt the hand on her waist start playing with the waistband of her shorts, a finger playfully circling around the skin under it.

“So... I made sure I locked the door this time.”

Lumine can’t help but laugh at that.

Last time, they were in the middle of an intimate moment. Both so close to their peak and desperate to reach it, Ajax can’t help but feel lost in the pleasure as he listened and watched Lumine, that was until the sound of a doorknob turning joined the sounds of skin slapping skin.

Both are thankful for Ajax’s fast reflex, quickly grabbing the covers to hide him and Lumine, just in time a sleepy Qiqi reveals herself, having been woken up by a nightmare. The blonde had quickly grabbed her robe that was hanging from their bed’s headboard, grabbing whichever undergarment she could find, which happened to be Ajax’s boxers, before taking care of their daughter.

Lumine ended up sleeping in Qiqi’s bedroom and Ajax had to spend the night with his right hand.

Not a great experience if Ajax is being honest.

“Really now?” Lumine teased, but not stopping Ajax from laying her on her back as he towers over her.

“I mean, why not?” Ajax hummed, gently attacking the spot on Lumine’s neck that makes her weak.

“Wasn’t complaining,” Lumine murmured gasping when he starts nibbling on the spot.

Ajax hummed approvingly, “In that case, allow me.” he whispered in her ear before she felt his hands tugging her shirt off.

He pulled away for a bit, releasing another pleased hum as he admired his future bride.

“You’re so beautiful,” Ajax said softly, hand gently caressing her cheek before kissing her lips, deepening the kiss to further express how he feels about her.

Lumine’s arms found their way around Ajax’s neck, a hand going to his hair while the other tracing shapes on his back.

“Off.” Lumine breathed out as soon as they pulled away, a hand impatiently tugging on his shirt.

“Whatever my lady wants.” Ajax chuckled before pulling his shirt off.

Smaller hands began exploring his abs, tugging him back for a kiss.

Ajax began trailing kisses to the spot on her neck, sucking and biting just enough to leave a mark before heading to her collarbone, giving it the same marking treatment.

Lumine shivered at the sensation, much more so when she felt a hand rubbing her side, “Ajax…” she moaned when the hand explored further up, gently cupping a breast.

“Ajax!” she squeaked, back arching when he suddenly gave her nipple a pinch, feeling her core heat up as the shot of pain turned into pleasure.

After leaving another mark, Ajax made his way to her other breast, kissing around the nipple before paying attention to the stiff bud. Lumine arched her back at Ajax’s touches, mewling softly as she buried her hands in his hair, tugging softly when she felt him grazing his teeth on the sensitive flesh.

Ajax could never be tired of the sweet noises Lumine makes, especially when she uses his name.

Wanting to hear more from his beloved, he began trailing kisses down to her stomach, his thumbs hooked on the waistband of her short, sliding them off her smooth legs with her underwear.

He sat up, his eyes turning a darker shade of blue, tongue slipping out to lick his lips as he admired the blonde goddess once again.

She was breathing harshly, face and body flushed as she stared back at him, her own eyes matching the lust with his’.

“Lumine…” he moaned, before diving in for a kiss, moving his hands to cup a breast each.

Lumine groaned as he tugged on her nipples, her head and back arching a bit, giving Ajax a perfect opening to assault the other side of her neck.

Ajax decided to mark more of her skin as his lips began exploring her chests, leaving a mark once in a while. He stopped at the area just below her breasts, his hands sliding down to her legs as he sat up to admire his work.

Just when he thought his lover couldn’t look any more perfect…

His dick throbbed painfully at how enticing Lumine looks full of his marks. Possessiveness flowing through him and urging him to mark his territory more.

He was about to, but Lumine gave out a needy whine with an arch of her hips, feeling hot and bothered when his hands were grabbing her waist, thumb circling her hip bones when it could be working on another part of her.

“Getting impatient, aren’t we?” Ajax teased as if his hardness isn’t begging to be buried in her.

“Just need you.” she whined at the ache of her core lacking attention, “Please.”

And that was all Ajax needed to hear before he moved a hand between her legs, gently tracing her wet slit before he began rubbing her clit with two of his fingers.

Lumine gave out a sigh of relief before moaning softly, tugging Ajax back to her to crash their lips together. He swallowed her moans when his fingers slid down to enter her, slowly pumping them in and out, making her roll her head back on her pillow as she bucked her hips, urging her lover to go faster.

Ajax did not disappoint, curling his fingers at the spot he knew so well that would drive Lumine crazy. His mouth began marking all over her neck and chest again as he picked up the pace of his fingers, groaning softly when he felt her clenching around him, imagining how great it would feel around his cock.

“A-Ajax… I-I’m gonna…” she panted out, hips grinding back against his fingers as she chases her climax.

His thumb reached for her clit, intensifying her pleasure as she released more of the noises Ajax loves so much.

He left her chest to look up at her, watch her come undone on his touch, “Go on, love. Come for me.”

And with the last curl of his fingers against that spot, Lumine’s eyes widened, hips spasming as she released the pleasure that they built up.

Lumine’s pleasured expression and the way her cunt tightened around his fingers almost had him coming. He pulled his fingers out of her, removing the last of his clothing and wrapping the hand that was inside Lumine around his erection, coating it with her juices as he stroked himself for some relief.

Once Lumine had recovered from her orgasm, she gently pulled Ajax, making him lay beside her. She grabbed him for another deep kiss, her hand on his shoulder moving down to his chest, abs, then to his hard on, replacing his hand with her own much to Ajax’s appreciation.

It was her turn to swallow his moans as she began to stroke him at a good pace. Ajax pulled away from a kiss, groaning appreciatively when Lumine tugged him in that particular way. Instead of chasing his lips back to hers, Lumine decided to explore the expanse of his chest, giving him some marks of her own, his skin isn’t easily bruised as hers so she couldn’t match the number of marks he left on her neck and chest.

She’ll just have to make it up by marking up his back later with her nails.

“Lumine…” Ajax hummed in anticipation as he watched Lumine made her way down to his cock, eyes locked on each other’s when she hovered over his tip.

Ajax swallowed, biting his lip as he adjusted his position, he always loved watching her take him. His hand reached up to caress her cheek, feeling her lean into his touch before moving his hand to her hair, nudging her closer to his aching prick as an encouragement.

She didn’t disappoint as her tongue slid along the slit, making him thrust in her warm wet mouth. He released a sigh of relief as she immediately went right up to work, bobbing her head up and down, tongue swirling around the tip when she reached it.

Ajax is a gentleman. He really is.

But as he watches and feels Lumine hungrily sucking his cock, not to mention the way her eyes seemed to be waiting and begging despite the unshed tears that are beginning to build up whenever she takes him down her throat, Ajax just can’t help but grab her hair and push her down as he thrusts his hips up.

“Fuck!” he hissed as he felt her swallow and tightened around him, moaning loudly when he felt the vibrations from the pleased moan she’s making.

Turned on, Lumine could feel her core aching again, making her sneak a hand between her thighs, teasing her clit a little bit before dipping two fingers between her folds, trying to match Ajax’s pace as she imagines and anticipates for his cock to be buried in her later.

The sensation and visual is just enough for Ajax to desperately fuck into her mouth, the wet choking noises egging him on to his release.

“I’m… I’m gonna…” he panted as tried to stop himself from being rougher than he already is.

Lumine hummed, looking at him with pleading eyes to give it to her.

And who is Ajax to deprive her of that?

With one final deep thrust, he spilt in her throat.

After making sure to swallow every drop of him, Lumine pulled away, wiping the excess with the back of her hand and a satisfied smile. Ajax released a groan before pulling her on top of him, grabbing her hand that was still buried inside of her. They gave her wet fingers a brief look before looking at each other’s eyes and with a smirk from Ajax, he took her fingers in his mouth, moaning at her taste as his tongue greedily swirls around the digits, “Delicious.” he licked his lips after releasing her fingers with a pop.

“Ajax…” she whined when she felt him harden again, his tip teasing sliding against her slit at their current position, “Please…” she gasped out when he reached down to continue rubbing himself between her folds.

Ajax flipped them over so he was on top, kissing Lumine again as he slowly entered her. They pulled away with a groan, Lumine from the pressure and Ajax from the tightness. As a petite woman, Ajax tries to be patient as he waits for her to adjust to his rather sizable length. It usually takes Lumine a while to get used to being full of him, even if they made love a couple of times already.

Ajax kissed the tears from her face, “You’re doing great, baby… such a good girl…” he showered her with praises, groaning quietly as her nails scratch on his back.

Once he felt her hold on him loosened, he slowly pulled back, only retrieving a small inch of himself before pushing in again at the same pace, hoping the shallow thrusts could help her adjust quicker as his resolve to just not ram himself inside her slowly wither away.

Luckily for them, Lumine doesn’t mind a bit of pain in her pleasure as she daringly thrusts up to meet him, making them both moan.

Ajax cursed under his breath before taking it as a signal to pull farther back before sharply thrusting in.

Lumine gasped, clawing her lover’s back as she tried to keep up with him, it didn’t take long for her to fall behind though, letting Ajax take control as she took it like a good girl.

As Ajax began to feel confident he wouldn’t hurt her, his thrusts became stronger, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back inside, losing control of himself as he listened to Lumine’s cries of pleasure.

He hissed when Lumine started biting his shoulder, whether to mark him or quiet her cries, he doesn’t care, he loves being marked as Lumine as much as he loves marking her.

“Lumine… feels so good inside you…” he panted between his thrusts, getting lost in the pleasure of her cunt gripping him as if greedily trying to suck him back in whenever he pulls back.

Lumine just mewled in pleasure, failing to form coherent words when Ajax is hitting her spot dead on, causing her to tighten, and at one particularly sharp thrust against that spot, she screamed his name, nails digging through his back as she came, her hips and cunt spasming around him.

“Fuck, Lumine… I’m coming…” he moaned in her ear, being careful not to spill inside her.

Lumine seemed to have other plans though, once she felt Ajax readying himself to pull out and spill himself between her legs like he always does, she locked him in place with her legs.

“Baby, I don’t think I can last much longer,” Ajax warned as he gave her a look.

Lumine pulled him closer so her mouth was against his ear, “It’s okay… Don’t you think it’s about time Qiqi gets a playmate anyway?”

Ajax gasped, his eyes widening at Lumine’s words.

The thought of Lumine pregnant with his child was just enough for him to give one final thrust, burying himself as deep as he can before releasing his seed.

Lumine gasped, whining out his name as she felt him fill her up. It was enough to send her over the edge again.

Ajax can’t remember if he ever came this hard before, or felt something as amazing as now. He had always pulled out before, respecting Lumine’s wishes to avoid getting pregnant. While this obviously won’t get Lumine knocked up immediately, Ajax can’t help but feel elated that Lumine wants to expand their little family.

Once he’s done, he slowly pulls out, laying beside Lumine before wrapping his arms around her waist, “I love you so much.” he declared before kissing her forehead, “But… are you… are you really…? That wasn’t just something to get me off, right?”

Lumine chuckled as she turned to her side to look at him, “Nah, I just miss feeling pregnant.” she teased.

“Mm, I can definitely help you with that.” Ajax grinned, the thought already filling him with excitement. He may or may not be growing hard again as he pictures Lumine and her belly swollen with his children.

Lumine laughed before moving closer, “In all seriousness though, yeah, I think it would be nice to give Qiqi some siblings, no? I’ve always wanted 4 kids.”

“Hm, I kinda want more… Wanna compensate and bump that up to 10?” Ajax grinned.

“Ajax!” Lumine gasped with wide eyes.

“What? I originally wanted 20.” he laughed at her horrified look, “I’m kidding, I think 4 is a great number. Though, I know you won’t be able to resist me- ow!” he flinched when she pinched her but still laughed after.

“You’re such a dick.”

“You love my dick.”

“Okay, that’s it, I’m sleeping in the guest room.”

“Can you walk though?”

“...Fuck you…”

“Sure, let’s get to work on those babies.”

“Ajax!”

Ajax burst out laughing, “Okay, I’m sorry, you’re just so adorable to tease.” he said before pulling her close to kiss her pout away.

Lumine just huffed but smiled, she just loves this man so much. Tiredness came to her soon, with a yawn, she made herself comfortable on his chest, “Hm, you’re lucky I love you so much.” hummed before tiredness took over her.

Ajax smiled softly, placing a soft kiss on her hair,

“I definitely am.”

~~~

He stumbled as he runs.

How could he not? He felt like he’d been running for eternity non-stop.

But how could he not? The mysterious woman is growing closer and closer as he forced himself to run as fast as he can. She doesn’t seem to feel unreachable anymore, she just stays there as if waiting for him.

And as her face became clearer and clearer, how could he not want to run into her inviting open arms and that warm smile on her lips?

“You’re almost there.”

His golden eyes widened at the sound of the voice, and for reasons he couldn’t understand, he grew desperate, ignoring his own harsh breathing as his lungs struggle to keep up with him, ignoring the tears falling from his eyes as he starts to feel the chains that had been weighing him slowly disappear every time she grew closer.

“You can do it.” she encourages, “You’re almost home.”

Home.

Closer and closer she grew.

“Welcome home, my love.”

He jumped into her arms.

Everything all went white.

“...Doc… Doc, he’s finally waking up!”

#chilumi #zhonglumi #chilumi/zhonglumi #genshin impact

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 3 years

Text

This Christmas - A Harry Styles Christmas Series (Part 1)

Two life long friends. Secretly in love. Home for the holidays. Will they risk everything by telling the other how they feel? Or will they spend another year loving from afar?

Read the Prologue here

You pulled into Anne’s driveway later the following day. You could already feel the difference of being home, it was almost like a weight had been lifted off your shoulder. Maybe this was exactly what you needed.

“Oh there she is!” Anne smiled, walking out to meet you as you got your bags.

“Hi,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around her. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” she smiled, hugging you tightly. “Come on, I’ve just finished dinner.”

“Good, I haven’t eaten since breakfast,” you laughed.

You followed Anne inside, leaving your bags in the living room, before heading to wash up and then meeting Anne in the dining room.

“Hm, this smells amazing,” you smiled.

“Thank you,” she smiled.

You took some onto your plate and started eating right away. “Hm, so good,” you groaned. “I’ve missed having food like this.”

“Oh, it’s simple to make,” she said.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve home cooked food,” you tell her. “When I’m trying to meet a deadline, I’m usually ordering takeaway.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that while you’re here,” she smiled.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I really hope I can get some words down here… if I miss this deadline… I’m screwed.”

“I’m sure you will figure it out,” she said. “You always do.”

“In the past, I have,” you nodded. “But there’s just something about this book… that I’m struggling with. I love Christmas… and I love christmas movies and books… but for some reason I’m struggling to write my own.”

“Perhaps, that’s your problem?” She suggested. “You're focusing on everything you’ve seen or read before and trying to make them yours, when you should just take your love of Christmas… and make it yours.”

“Good point,” you nodded.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you much longer. I promised I would stay out of your way and give you space to write,” she smiled. “After dinner, I’ll walk you out to the guest house.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you said.

“I can and I will,” she smirked.

You shook your head and finished eating dinner. Once you helped Anne clean up the kitchen, you grabbed your bags and followed her out to the backyard where the tiny guest house stood. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw how decorated it was for Christmas.

“It’s beautiful,” you smiled.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I went a little extra this year, hoping it might get you into the spirit.”

“Thank you,” you nodded. “I hope so, too.”

Inside there was only a bed alongside the wall and a desk near the other side. There was a small counter with a Keurig and some water. And of course in the far corner was a christmas tree covered in small ornaments and lights.

“I know it isn’t much,” she said. “And you are more than welcome to stay in the house if you’d like, but I thought this might be better for you to not have any distractions.”

“Oh, no, yes, it’s perfect,” you nodded. “Not saying I won’t take you up on the offer to stay inside occasionally, but for now this is where I need to be.”

“Then I’ll leave you to it,” she smiled.

After she left, you sighed placing your things to the side. You took out your comfy, writing pajamas, and quickly changed out of your comfy traveling clothes. You grabbed your computer and your notebook, opening up the still blank page from the night before.

It was time to get writing.

Harry took in the fresh, crisp air as he drove with the window down. He was finally home after spending the last few months in California working on his newest project. He enjoyed his time in LA and the surrounding areas, but there was nothing that could beat being back in London. At least not until he arrived back home to visit his mother, which is exactly where he was headed currently.

It was late and he knew he probably wouldn’t see her until morning, but he couldn’t wait to get home any longer. She wasn’t expecting him until tomorrow evening, but he knew she wouldn’t mind his early… late arrival. It had been a long time since he had been back in his childhood town, the last time was a few days back over the summer. He always loved going back there because the people who lived there still saw him as just Harry, the annoying kid who used to work at the local bakery.

But more importantly, he loved going back because it reminded him of a simpler time. Of course, everyone probably feels that way, but for Harry, it was because there was always the off chance he would run into you. He missed you. He missed talking to you and how things used to be. There was once a time you two were inseparable, but now you two were separated and have been for years.

He blamed himself for what had happened. He let himself get carried away into the famous life and left you in the past. It wasn’t that he meant for it to happen or that he wanted it to, it’s just he was young, he was stupid, and he let too many text and phone calls go unanswered. He supposed people growing apart happened all the time, but he never thought it would happen to either of you.

But he was happy for you. He was proud of you and everything you had accomplished with your writing. He’s read every single one of your books and recommended them to all his friends. Even some of his fans, who have caught him holding a book or two of your’s in a photo. Whenever he felt lonely, he would open one of your books and read it because it felt like he was able to catch up with you.

It was weird, he knew that, but it also made him wonder what might have happened had the two of you stayed in touch. He wondered if he ever would have gotten the courage to tell you how he felt about you. Now, it’s not like he realized his feelings for you all those years ago, but recently during a drunken discussion with Jeff, he realized the one thing holding him back from having a relationship work out was… well you.

It happened after yet another relationship had gone to shit. It wasn’t very long and he didn’t really feel that heartbroken over it, which obviously was a sign that it was supposed to happen, but it still defeated him a bit.

“I don’t get it, Jeff,” Harry said, taking a sip of his drink. “I’m fucked up… I gotta be. Am I that terrible… and I’m gonna be the type of person who just dates around, falls in love, gets my heartbroken, and then repeats the same thing until I’m old?”

“You’re only in your twenties,” Jeff hiccuped. “You’ve still got plenty of time to find love and start a family one day.”

“But what if… what if I already have, but she’s already gone,” he whispered.

“What are you on about?” Jeff groaned.

“How did you know you love Glenne… that she was the one?” Harry asked.

Jeff sighed, “I don’t know… I just… knew… I feel it whenever I’m around her and when I’m not with her I want to be. I can’t picture my life without her… I know it sounds fucking cliche, but being love is very much a cliche thing to do. When you find who you’re supposed to be with, you’ll just know… I promise.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Harry whispered.

That person was, in fact, you. He knew it. Deep down he always knew it, but he never let himself admit it. He was afraid. He was stubborn. He was stupid. And now he was paying the price.

You sighed as you deleted yet another entire page worth of writing. Two hours had passed and you were still in the same exact spot you had been when you started. So, apparently, there wasn’t going to be some magical switch in your brain that would get you writing just by being in a different location. You were actually going to have to work it.

Instead of trying to write for another few hours, you decided to grab your shower things and head into the house for a shower and some time to think. First, you needed to relax your mind and your muscles from sitting in both a car and chair for far too long. Then, you could focus on the task at hand. When you got to the guest bathroom in the house, you turned on the water, deciding on taking a bath, hoping that would help.

There were some candles laying around, so you lit those, placing them around the bathroom. You pulled your hair on top of your head before undressing as the water continued filling up the tub. You grabbed your notebook, placing it on the little tray on the tub, along with your phone, before getting inside. You smiled, closing your eyes, taking in smells of the candles and sound of the soft music you were playing from your phone.

The warmth of the water soothed your muscles, releasing the tension they once held as you took some water in your hands pouring it over your chest and shoulders. You brought some up to your face, wiping any sleepiness from your eyes because you knew you wouldn’t be sleeping tonight until you came up with an idea.

Once you felt a bit relaxed, you dried off your hands, taking your notebook out and reading through your pages of notes. You had so many ideas written down, but they had been crossed out because you couldn’t get them to work. So, next you moved onto your phone where you kept your inspiration board. It was mostly an album on your phone with pictures.

You kept searching and searching until finally, you stopped at a photo of you and Harry. It was one of the last ones you took together before you stopped talking. Conveniently, it was one taken at Christmas, where you both were dressed in ugly christmas sweaters. His arms were wrapped around your shoulder and his head was placed on top of yours. You were both laughing at something, but there was something else you noticed.

You were the happiest you had been in a long time, even now. Your smile touched your eyes and there was a glow in your cheeks. There was something about the holidays that seemed to bring people together. Maybe it was part of the Christmas spirit, or because people finally got to take a break from their normal lives for a few weeks.

That’s when it clicked. The idea you had been longing for. You quickly grabbed your pen and started writing it down. Your hand moved swiftly across the paper as if you were afraid you would forget it. Once you felt like you had enough to go on for when you returned to your little hideaway.

You read over your idea.

Two life-long friends return home for the holidays. What will happen when they discover there’s more between them than just friendship. But the love they’ve been searching for was there all along.

You knew it was risky, but you also knew your chance to figure things out with Harry had passed years ago, and maybe writing this story was your way of getting closure. Because this way, you would be in control of the ending.

Here is PART 1 ! I hope you enjoyed it. I know it’s a little slow to start off, but it’ll pick up soon.

Next Part will be posted Tuesday at Midnight CST :)

#Harry Styles Imagines #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles Fics #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles Christmas Series

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silvysartfulness · 3 years

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I got tagged by @ameliarating and @veliseraptor to do this writer meme thing!

How many works do you have on AO3?

Six. I only started posting fic on AO3 last year. Before that, many long years ago, I used my own websites and LiveJounal.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

177481. The absolute majority of which is of course Heaven Has A Road.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

On AO3, only The Untamed.

But before that, I've written for Disney Afternoon's Aladdin, Slayers, Kingdom Hearts, Assassin's Creed, and one-shot fics for my own original verses as well as my friends'.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Heaven Has A Road But No One Walks It at 1194, unsurprisingly. It's my magnum opus on AO3.

Blanket Statement at 302. The first fic I wrote for the Untamed, and the first thing I posted on AO3 (Thank you, Lise, for holding my hand and walking me through it!)

And To Many More at 169

High Noon In Deserted City at 96, which is sort of funny, since it's just a picture and about 1000 words. But the premise is fun! Still hoping for some hungry writer to adopt it and write something for it. :)

Self-Inflicted at 75.

Which checks out, I guess – the longest fic with the most readers comes first, then the fluff, then the funny and finally the angsty and fucked up. XD

I still suspect The Plotbunny of Doom / The Renegades for Kingdom Hearts would score as my all time highest, though, if LJ likes and comments translated to the AO3 format. That fic took me and two friends three whole years to write together, was 104 chapters long and over 300k.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I really try! Comments mean everything to me, and I want to reply to them all! But when I'm low on spoons (which is unfortunately often) I fall hopelessly behind, and then the catching up becomes an impossible-looking chore in and of itself.

I should really set some time aside every day to catch up on the last few chapters' worth of comments... I do love the interaction and discussion a good comment can spawn!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hm... I write a ton of angst, but only a few actually have sad endings. I'd say Eaten counts, as does Self-Inflicted, I guess. TPBoD had a very open ending that was still definitely on the somewhat hopeless side.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Mm, it's not usually my favourite genre (though I mean, the whole Kingdom Hearts verse is a crossover in and of itself) but it depends a lot on the source material. I guess TPBoD might soft-count, since we tossed in a bunch of non-canon references with all the world-jumping.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not as such? Oh yeah, I do recall getting a very upset comment on a non-con fic I wrote back in the KH days, by someone who couldn't conceive how you could claim to love a character and then write such horrible things happening to them. But you get those occasionally. Look, crushing my favourite characters is therapy. Doesn't mean I don't love them.

The Russian fandom are loudly aggressive in their comments on some chapters of Heaven Has A Road, but that's more focused on the characters, not me personally.

On the whole, I've been pretty spared. But then, there's little point in sending hate; I just block.

Do you write smut? if so what kind?

Oh, absolutely. Haven't really gotten to that point in the posted chapters of Heaven Has A Road yet, but we're about to unleash it aplenty in the upcoming ones.

What kind? Most kinds, I guess? Soft and fluffy, aggressive and snarly, consensual, dubcon, non-con. Mostly mlm but I've written het, too. Can't remember if I've written wlw, but I've certainly headcanoned/drawn it. A bit of kink is nice.

I prefer focusing on the chemistry and sensations when I write porn, rather than detailed physical smacking and squelching and body fluids, but that's just my personal preference and writing style.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of? Not that I can remember? I have my art stolen regularly, and I've had my online identity stolen, but I don't think anyone's stolen anything I've written...

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Heaven Has A Road is being translated into Russian, and I'm insanely honoured and flattered!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes – TPBoD aka The Plot Bunny of Doom, aka The Renegades, for Kingdom Hearts. I wrote it over ten years ago together with a friend and my now wife. It was a monster of a fic, I think about 320k, and the fact that we were three people helping and pushing and encouraging each other really helped keep it going!

I don't know if I would have the focus for something like it now, but it was an amazing experience I'll always treasure.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Oh man, that changes with each hyperfixation... I may have to say Marluxia/Vexen for Kingdom Hearts, simply because it's a ship that's been around in my life for so long. I still occasionally go back to read favourite bits of the fics I wrote for them, including TPBoD.

Currently it's SongXueXiao from The Untamed, of course, and a very strong contender overall! I've dabbled a bit in poly ships before, but this is the first time I have one as my main, and I'm love them.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Uh. I don’t really have any? Because of my burnout-brain, I can only really focus on one major project at a time, and that's currently heaven has A Road. And I'm really, really hoping I will be able to finish it!

It's all plotted out, I just need to write the stupid thing. Working on it.

What are your writing strengths?

Hm, I'd say that I've developed a voice/prose over the years that I'm actually quite happy with! And I'm good at conveying/invoking emotion, if going solely by how many people comment that I've made them cry. :D

I enjoy writing dialogue, and I love working with layers of symbolism.

What are your writing weaknesses?

The actual writing process. 🙄 I'm extremely uneven and unstructured in getting the actual words down. Also convoluted and inflated text at times - sometimes I write a lot of words without actually saying anything. And English is my second language, so just nailing the correct phrasing and grammar can be a headache at times.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

If it impacts the plot – like the POV character not understanding it, then maybe. And using terms that can't be translated, absolutely! Other than that, there's little point in making a text harder for the reader to grasp by tossing in whole sections in another language for clout. Is my personal view, at least, of course other writers may disagree.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

My first online fandom that I wrote fic for was Disney Afternoon's Aladdin show. Before that, I wrote original fic. And before that, before the internet was A Thing, I'd write and draw for stories that captivated me, just for my own entertainment. If you count that, I'd probably say Phantom of the Opera was my first – I had a whole ”everyone is a horse because that's what I know how to draw” AU when I was about 10 or so, that I'd draw lots of pictures for. When I was even younger, I used to make up stories for my younger brothers, based on movies and series we had watched together. I've always been a storyteller, one way or another, if only in my own head. I wouldn't know how not to.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I would have to say Heaven Has A Road, even though it's still unfinished. It's the first work of that sheer scope I have ever attempted by myself, and I'm honestly insanely proud of myself for what I have accomplished already!

Second would be TPBoD – The Renegades. Even though that was a shared effort, it's a very long fic that we managed to bring all the way to its intended conclusion, and I'm very proud of that, too!

Plus there are bits of both these fics I really like, and that I will go back and read for my own enjoyment occasionally.

tagging: @orodrethsgeek, @ebonykain, @fromaliminalspace, @chigrima, @soawen

#asksilvy #i guess #long post

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lilfellasblog · 4 years

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Truly *Nothing* Is Spookier Than Self-Care

Summary: Janus absolutely despises being accepted by Thomas and the Light Sides. He can’t help but notice how they very much do not put themselves first. He decides to change that.

A/N: If you liked this, please reblog. It is the only way to help this fic reach a wider audience. This story comes from this ask by @foreverfangirlingalways! Thank you so much for the inspiration and the wonderful prompt! I hope I did it justice!

TW: very light angst, like almost no angst. Small amounts of stress and mild flailing to adapt when the plan doesn't go perfectly.

Word count: 2648

AO3 here!

Fic Masterlist here!

Although Janus was grateful to be accepted by his Host, an aspect of such that he absolutely loved was seeing just how dysfunctional the Light Sides were in their self-care. They certainly had a great deal of work to do, but they held themselves to such high standards, they seemed to constantly move around every waking moment. Janus had been attempting to get the Light Sides more focused on taking care of themselves throughout the day, but the key word here is attempting. They’d thank him for his suggestion and promise they’d do it later.

Janus wondered why he was the one stuck with Deceit as a name.

It was now time for more drastic measures that he hoped wouldn’t land him with a giant frog again. He knew he’d have to go one at a time if he wanted any chance of success, so he decided to target each Side according to the level of concern he had for them. Naturally, this meant Roman would be his first vict- *cough* recipient.

He found Roman precisely where he’d expect him: inside his en suite gym, hair damp with perspiration.

“In the gym again? Don’t you have anything else to do with your spare time?” Janus asked innocently.

Roman started and placed the weight he’d been lifting on the ground. “Greetings Janus! And I do, there’s just always room for improvement!”

Hm, direct won’t work with him in this. Interesting. “I was wondering if you might help me with a sewing project, although I see you’re busy.”

Roman grabbed a nearby towel to wipe his face. “I’m never too busy to assist a Side in need! What is it you’d like my assistance on?”

Janus hummed. “I was hoping to experiment with a few costume ideas for Halloween. I think a pirate might be suitable for me.”

Roman grinned, excitement beginning to shine in his eyes. “Indeed! Allow me a few minutes to wash up, I’ll join you!” He waved his hand. “You’ll find two sewing stations in my room!” He pranced off to the bathroom without another word.

“Don’t take too long!” Janus called after him, hoping he wouldn’t have to wait much longer than an hour for the prince to get his appearance in order.

He only had to wait a half hour before Roman joined him in the room, hair still slightly damp. Janus internally cheered when Roman didn’t have his ridiculously complicated prince uniform on, instead wearing a red sweater with pumpkins stitched on.

“Roman, would you mind trying on the clothes once I’ve finished them? We have similar body types, although you’re more muscular, and my current outfit is simply a bear to get on and off.”

Roman blinked in surprise. “I… I suppose I could, are you certain you want me to do that?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, yes.”

After another moment of prolonged shock, Roman pulled himself together and struck a pose, exaggerated grin on his face. “Well far be it from a prince to forsake a Side in their hour of need!”

Janus smiled, relieved. “Wonderful.” He summoned his nearly-completed pirate costume: tight black pants, calf-high boots, and a billowy shirt with a deep V-neck. “I’m just about to finish these, would you mind taking a look at the seams on the outside of the leg and in the armpit of the shirt? I want to make sure I’ve pinned those in a way that won’t pull.”

Roman and Janus discussed the different options they had for stitching, and once they’d decided Janus had Roman put in the stitching for the pants while he finished stitching the shirt. Janus was pleased that Roman had decided to go for a more complex stitch; he knew the Side enjoyed getting absorbed in a task, and that he enjoyed sewing. Sure enough, after an hour, he looked over and saw Roman’s irises sparkling in red and gold, tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth. 4 hours later, and they’d both finished.

Janus stretched, watching Roman bounce slightly in his seat from excitement. “Well Roman, we did good work. Would you try these on?”

Roman hesitated, then forced himself to smile, Janus watching him carefully. “Certainly! Are you sure you don’t want to?”

“I am, I’d hate to keep getting in and out of my outfit, especially if changes need to be made.”

Roman inhaled deeply and took the clothes, holding them carefully. “I shall not dilly-dally then! I shall return soon!”

Janus plastered a wide smile on his face. “Wonderful!”

That was another thing, the sheer amount of smiling the Light Sides did and how he found himself going along with it. It made his face hurt at time from the sheer amount of smiling.

Roman emerged, posture stiff and forced but proud. Janus raised both eyebrows.

“Roman, you look wonderful! Stand in front of the mirror, won’t you?”

The prince shuffled over, eyes darting between himself and the ground.

Janus appraised the Side before him, and was relieved he wouldn’t have to lie about a single thing. “Goodness Roman, you like incredible! The skin-tight pants look wonderful on your legs, and the shirt highlights your figure! I must say, I’m quite jealous. I’ve been also considering going as a bard this year, why don’t you just take this costume? I shows off all of your muscles and your broad shoulders especially!”

Roman looked at him, surprised. “Are you certain? You’ve spent so long on this, I couldn’t possibly-”

“I am, I’ll enjoy knowing you’re enjoying something I made. Come now, Thomas is tired, and it’s best to look in the distance to prevent eye strain. Would you like to watch some Disney movies?”

Roman frowned and looked back towards where his en suite gym was. “I really should be getting back to a workout…”

“Nonsense, you’ve been working out so much, and you’ve been working hard in other areas. You’ll be more productive after some rest.”

Janus let out a breath when Roman shrugged and summoned a large television. He got some beanbags and snacks for them, and Janus watched as Roman slowly relaxed and got engrossed in the movies, eagerly agreeing to watch one after the other. Once dinner rolled around, Janus suggested a famILY movie night, which got Patton on board, which meant everyone would attend. Roman had changed back into his pumpkin sweater, and Janus was the last one awake, pleased to see the other Sides asleep, surrounded by snacks and illuminated by the glow of the television. He sank out to his room, and planned his next intervention.

/////

Janus waited a week so as to not draw any suspicion to himself, and found Patton in the kitchen. He was typing furiously on a tablet, Thomas currently working through whether or not he should use his celebrity status to get ahead in line so he could get back to editing a new video faster so he could get that out to his fans so he could-

He pulled his mind back from Patton’s, reeling slightly.

You need this more than I thought.

Janus backed up a bit, then walked more heavily to announce his presence to Patton. Patton looked up at him happily.

“Heya Janus! What can I do ya for?”

Janus smiled easily, the cheerful Side great at lifting moods. “I see you’re in the middle of something, but once you get a moment, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me bake something? It’s a skill I’d like to acquire.”

Patton lit up. “Well sure!! Give me just a few minutes and I’ll be right with you!”

Janus set a tea kettle to boil and put a mint tea bag in Patton’s mug and a black tea bag in his own. Just as Patton sighed and set the tablet on the table, the kettle went off and Janus poured the water before Patton could do it. He didn’t miss how Patton rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck.

He gently set the mug of tea in front of Patton. Patton lifted and smelled it, closing his eyes.

“Mmmmmm, mint, my favorite!”

“Oh really? Lucky guess, I suppose.”

Patton looked up at him knowingly. “You’re good at guessing,” he teased.

“Thank you for noticing. I’ve noticed that Thomas’ Sides have been quite busy lately. Do you think a chocolate beet cake would go over well?”

“Do I?!” Patton asked, eyes shining and the edges of his irises glowing light blue.

Patton donned plastic gloves and got to work peeling and grating the beets, while Janus combined the wet and dry ingredients in separate bowls. He asked Patton for reassurance on occasion, despite being confident in his abilities. He let Patton take over once it was time to combine everything and put it in the oven.

Patton tapped his finger against his chin. “Hmmmmm… what kind of frosting should we do? I’m thinking either buttercream or ganache, what do you think?”

Janus shrugged. “Why not just store-bought frosting? It seems easier.”

Patton looked at him incredulously. “For a beet cake?! Oh no, we may as well make something while it’s baking!”

Shitshitshitshitshitshit- Janus frantically thought back to the brief research he’d done on cakes.

“How about ganache? I’ve always been intrigued about that.”

“Sure!” Patton chirped. Janus let out a breath as Patton bounded over to the fridge to grab heavy cream. Patton showed Janus how to make ganache, and Janus was surprised and relieved at how simple it was.

As the cake cooked and the ganache cooled, Janus and Patton chatted amicably, Janus asking questions about something Patton would bring up and watching Patton’s eyes become bluer and bluer as he kept talking. The oven pinged, and Janus convinced Patton that a game of cards was in order while they let the cake cool. One game led to five, and by then it was time to gently reheat the ganache and pour it over the cake.

Patton jumped when he realized the time. “Oh gosh!! I’m so sorry, I don’t have dinner planned! I can-”

“Don’t worry about it Patton,” Janus interrupted. “I actually have a recipe I’ve been meaning to try out if you don’t mind relinquishing the kitchen?”

Patton smiled nervously. “Do you want any help?”

I might have to adjust my plan. “No, but I would like some pleasant company. You’re on your feet so much, it’s good to soak them.” He summoned a bucket filled with warm water and a bag of lavender-scented epsom salts. “I won’t be long.”

Patton poured some of the epsom salts into the bucket of water and groaned and whimpered at the relaxing sensation on his feet. Janus turned and allowed himself a small smile, then cooked up some 4-ingredient Italian chicken breasts from a recipe he’d found online, along with some roasted veggies and some pasta aglio e olio on the side. He set the table when Patton had his eyes closed in pleasure, then got everything served and helped Patton massage and dry his feet.

After dinner, in which everyone complimented the cooking, Patton declared he would go to bed a little early tonight, so Janus sent him upstairs with some chamomile tea. He cleaned the kitchen, and felt rather accomplished.

Roman and Patton are taken care of, thank God. He chuckled to himself. Up next, two for the price of one!

/////

Janus stood in front of Logan’s closed door, holding a pencil and large pad of paper, uncharacteristically nervous.

I’ve been able to fool Roman and Patton, but Logan is smart. He may see through this.

He knocked on the door, uncertain of his success.

Logan answered the door, every hair and fiber of clothing in order. “Hello Janus.”

Oh dear Lord in Heaven, this man needs to relax. Janus put on his best smile. “Hello Logan. I’ve become rather fascinated with the constellation Serpens and was wondering if you’d help me chart it and some stars and constellations around it? I’m afraid this is out of my area of expertise and I know this happens to be a field you’re familiar with.”

Logan looked at him skeptically. “You want to chart the stars with me,” he deadpanned. “You have no ulterior motives?”

“None whatsoever,” Janus said.

Logan looked over Janus’ shoulder at the wall, upset.

He knows you lied, salvage this! Janus sighed, pushing it a little. “Truth be told, Logan, I would like to get to know you more, and although I truly am interested in learning more about the constellation of the snake, spending time with you was my ultimate goal.”

Logan looked surprised, a faint blush on his cheekbones. “Oh. I suppose… that would be satisfactory.”

Janus leaned on all of his acting abilities to look relaxed. “Excellent. Would your room suffice?”

“It would.”

Janus laid his pad of paper and pencil on the floor where Logan indicated, and timed his next move while Logan was looking over his books.

“Say, Logan, you and Virgil seem to enjoy each other’s company, shall we ask him to join us?”

Logan stopped flipping through the thick tome currently in his hand long enough to raise his arm in a summon. Virgil rose up and grabbed his head.

“God L, how are you guys not constantly dizzy?” Virgil jumped when he saw Janus. “Oh! Hey, what’s up guys?” Janus made sure to hide his endearment for the anxious Side when he saw Virgil cringe

“Janus would like assistance mapping the constellation Serpens and the surrounding night sky. He suggested you accompany us,” Logan explained without raising his eyes from his book.

Virgil looked between Janus and Logan. “Just like… hang out?”

Janus decided to step in. “Yes. I noticed you seem to enjoy the company of others, but aren’t always interested in participating.”

Virgil offered a soft smile. “Yeah, I guess… that’s chill. Mind if I just listen to music and stuff?”

“Not at all,” Janus and Logan said at the same time.

Virgil snorted, then flopped on the bed, put in an earbud, and started up his phone.

One down, one to go.

Logan sat in front of Janus, irises already dark blue.

Two down, it seems.

Janus listened intently as Logan spoke at length about Serpens, and then about related constellations, and then about related galaxies and stars, with Janus asking questions along the way. They charted out Serpens and filled the large piece of paper with other stars and constellations, and even Virgil would chime in every now and again.

Janus definitely didn’t almost get emotional when he saw how relaxed the two normally-tense Sides were.

When Patton knocked on Logan’s door for dinner, Virgil swore.

“Shit! Did I miss something? Did Thomas need me?! Fuck, I-”

“Relax, Virgil,” Janus soothed. “I kept an eye on things, Thomas is just fine. See for yourself.”

Virgil’s eyes grew distant for several long moments before refocused. He blew out a breath.

“Okay, whew,” he sent a grateful look towards Janus. “Thanks man.”

Janus waved. “Not a problem. Let’s not keep Patton waiting.”

Janus followed the two Sides downstairs, feeling victorious at how relaxed their shoulders were. Virgil was even walking with proper posture!

Dinner was a relaxed affair, the Sides content and laughing easily. Remus was chattering on about one thing one moment and another the next, with Logan offering feedback and Virgil changing the topic for Patton’s sake. Janus ate, not admitting how nice it felt to be included in famILY mealtime. It took him til nearly the end of dinner to realize no one was watching him out of the corner of their eye.

They trust me, he realized.

By the end of the night, he stretched out on his bed, pulling his heated blanket up to his neck.

What a waste of time. Totally not worth it, he thought to himself as he planned his next meeting with Roman.

#janus sanders #janus sanders fanfic #janus sanders fanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic

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carewyncromwell · 3 years

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At last, my friends, we’ve come to the end! This is the final part of my POTC AU. *cue the confetti and noisemakers*

I’ll be creating a masterpost for this AU in the next few days, so that it’s easier to start at the beginning, but before we jump right in, I want to thank those people who contributed to the POTC AU during its development by creating content for their own characters -- @hphm-brooke, @danceworshipper, @rosievixen, @smarti-at-smogwarts, @theguythatdraws, @dat-silvers-girl, @that-ravenpuff-witch, @hogwarts9, @drinkyoursoupbitch and @samshogwarts -- as well as my dear friend @cursebreakerfarrier, whose character Jules I roped into this thing at the very start before having any concept of how big this thing could get and I feel so blessed to have been able to write for. I also just want to thank you all for the overwhelming flood of support you guys have sent my way for this project -- I truly have loved every minute of it, and I hope to finish some of my other unfinished projects as well as create other fresh new material for you guys in the near future! I love you all! xoxo

One last time -- previous part is here, and full tag is here!

x~x~x~x

Even with McNully’s brilliant ploy giving her an extra smattering of glory to cement her position, Carewyn had still initially feared the crew who had been on the HMS Lion would take her to task for her insubordination of Cutler Beckett. It turned out she really needn’t have worried.

“Lord Beckett may have been chosen by the King to take charge of the Empire’s anti-piracy campaign,” said Carewyn’s old lieutenant when she questioned him about it, “but he selected you as the Admiral of the fleet. Therefore it’s only right that we, as your subordinates, follow your orders -- whether they contradict Lord Beckett’s or not.”

“Even though I’m the sort of person to threaten the King’s chosen representative with my pistol?” asked Carewyn, her eyebrows raised.

“Even if you did far worse than that,” said the lieutenant, his eyes blazing with resolve. “Your orders saved a lot of our men’s lives out there, when Beckett’s no doubt would’ve led to their deaths. It’s only right that we protect you -- that the Navy protects you -- just like you protected us.”

His boyish face broke out into a broad smile. “We won’t betray you, Admiral. None of us will.”

With the Navy’s defeat at the hands of the Pirate Lords, Carewyn charted a course straight for London. The fleet had just started the month-long journey when about three days in, the Flying Dutchman emerged out of a gigantic wave and pulled up right alongside the HMS Royal. The Navy’s sailors immediately prepared for a fight, as they knew that the Dutchman was no longer under their control, but Carewyn held the order to attack, instead allowing the ship to approach.

The sailors on board the Dutchman were unrecognizable to Carewyn’s eyes -- gone were the barnacle-encrusted, shark-or-fish-headed crew members she’d seen before: all she saw were a band of very human, though admittedly very dirty and ragged-looking pirates. Sticking out amongst them was a handsome, clean-shaved man with a stylishly-embroidered coat, a brown ponytail, and discerning brown eyes, who stood shoulder-to-shoulder with a shorter, stockier man with very long curly dark hair tied back in a ponytail that swished around behind him like an oddly sentient tail. It was these two men that came aboard, when Carewyn invoked the right to parley with the Dutchman’s Captain in her office.

Percy shut the door to Carewyn’s cabin’s door behind the two men, taking off his tricorn hat just as the pirates, Ben, and Carewyn already had now that he was indoors. It was only once Carewyn, Percy, Ben, Jacob, and Ashe were alone that the two Navy officers and ex-Navy veteran dropped their professional masks and the two pirates dropped their intimidating glares, and Jacob and Carewyn ran forward, throwing their arms around each other and squeezing tight.

“Jacob!” Carewyn breathed against his shoulder as she clung to her brother.

Jacob cradled his younger sister close, absently trailing his hand through her hair in repetitive strokes. “Oh Wyn -- my brave Wyn...”

Carewyn pulled away just enough to look at Jacob. Her eyes trailed over his face, down to the long scar on his chest exposed by his slightly open shirt, and over his curly ponytail, which was currently squiggling like a ribbon in mid-air behind him.

Jacob smiled a bit sheepishly.

“Seems all sailors on the Flying Dutchman become a bit more ‘sea-like’ upon tying themselves to the ship. Rakepick’s hair kind of went all ‘jellyfish’ when she was captain -- probably because of her talent for shocking betrayals,” he added with a rather nasty smile. “Ashe thinks that my hair’s been evoking an eel. Fortunately I reckon I won’t start sprouting gills or turning green unless I actively shed my humanity and ignore my role as ferryman like Jones did...”

The severe look on Carewyn’s face made the smile slowly slide off of Jacob’s face.

“Jacob...when Jones was captain of the Dutchman, he wasn’t allowed to visit dry land but once every ten years,” said Carewyn, her voice betraying the anxiety she felt despite her best effort.

Jacob’s eyes grew a little more solemn. “...I know.”

Seeing the pain in his sister’s eyes, he immediately swooped in and trailed a hand through the hair near the front of her face.

“Wyn, I already planned for this. The whole reason I left you on Isle de Muerta is that I wanted to get Jones’s heart and force him, any way I had to, to release you from the contract.” He swallowed. “...I knew I’d have to be prepared to follow through, if I was going to threaten Jones’s life -- that I’d have to be prepared to become captain of the Dutchman myself, if it came to it.”

Carewyn looked if possible even more upset. “...You mean you planned this? You were really going to kill Jones, to stop him from impressing me into service?”

“I was not going to condemn you, Wyn,” Jacob said in a very forceful, pained voice. “I couldn’t let you suffer because of my mistake -- ”

“Two wrongs do not make a right, Jacob,” Carewyn shot back very harshly. “Jones may have been heartless, but he was still a person!”

“If you disregard the tentacles and claw, anyway,” Ashe said rather coolly. When Carewyn whirled on him with a very reproachful look, he spoke again before she did, “Carewyn, your brother had his fair share of conflict about the whole thing. He hated the thought of killing Jones and joining the crew of the Dutchman. He hated the thought of not being free to go where he wanted, to lose so much time with you...with me.”

Ashe’s eyes were very stony, but they still flickered over to Jacob, narrowing slightly with something oddly resigned. Carewyn’s gaze softened significantly.

“...I hated it for him too,” the merman said lowly. “I still do. But I hate the thought of Jack having died there on that deck more. I hate the thought that Rakepick would’ve actually managed to kill him this time, and there would’ve been nothing I could’ve done to stop it. Your friend the Pirate King couldn’t save your brother’s life, but she did prevent him from dying...all because she, like me, couldn’t bear the thought of you two never seeing each other again.”

His lips actually turned up in something of a weak, wry smile upon Carewyn.

“I understand your frustration -- your brother can be amazingly thick -- ”

“Oi!” said Jacob, a bit offended, but Ashe ignored him.

“ -- but I’ve been very fortunate to know the same intense, selfless love from Jack that he feels for you. I’m not going to act like it’ll be easy -- I mean, even if I’d be able to stay on-board on the Dutchman with Jack while he’s here in the land of the living...whenever he goes to the next world as ferryman, I won’t be able to follow. But I can always meet up with him at sea, in my regular form -- I can always catch up, given the proper time...just like I did while Jack was serving under Howell Davis. Until then, I’ll just find someplace to wait.”

Carewyn considered Ashe for a long moment, her blue eyes rippling with a rather indiscernible expression. Then, looking a bit more determined, she strode right up to Ashe and took hold of his shoulders.

“You won’t have to find a place,” she said. “You’ll have one with me.”

Both Jacob and Ashe looked taken aback.

“You’re family, Duncan,” said Carewyn with a smile. “And everything I’ve ever done -- everything I’m doing now -- is for my family...my blood one and my found one.”

She glanced at Percy, who beamed, before turning her gaze back to Ashe.

“You’ll always have a home with me, when you don’t have one with my brother,” she said very firmly. “Always.”

Ashe looked faintly stunned. His eyes trailed over Carewyn’s face, analyzing every inch as if he’d never seen anyone quite like her. His gaze flitted back over to Jacob, whose face had broken into a very warm, tear-choked smile.

Seeing the intense emotion in his partner’s face, Ashe couldn’t help but bow his head and clear his throat as he struggled to keep his composure.

“Ahem...well...that’s...nice.”

He glanced at Carewyn out the side of his eye almost hesitantly. The Admiral’s smile softened that bit more, becoming more sympathetic, and finally Ashe’s face slowly broke out into a very small, soft smile too. He brought up a hand and rested it on the crown of her head, lightly messing up her bangs.

“Guess I’ll just stick with you in the interim, then,” he said airily, “considering the Brethren Court’s instructions.”

Percy blinked in surprise. “The Brethren Court?”

Jacob nodded. “We took a vote and our Pirate King decided that a ‘representative’ should deliver the Court’s demands to the Admiral and the British Crown. Originally the plan was to have Ashe and me rendez-vous with you, and for Ashe to stay with you until ‘the terms were met.’”

“Jack would’ve done it himself if he could, but of course, he sort of needs to stick to the sea, unless he wants to waste his ‘one day every ten years,’” added Ashe.

“What terms did the Court decide on?” asked Ben, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. “I assume they want pardons for themselves and their crews...but just pardoning a mob of pirates isn’t going to fix things on its own.”

Jacob nodded. “Aye. The Court requested a ‘path toward reintegration’ -- one that includes pardons, as well as a job that suits our sailing and, er... ‘financially-inclined’ talents and can be used to build a future for ourselves and any families we may want to support. Amari’s First Mate said there would only be a 58% chance that the King would accept those terms, but he hoped that you ‘being put under duress’ by a pirate while submitting those terms in writing might improve the odds slightly -- ”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Carewyn very primly.

This startled both Jacob and Ashe. Carewyn exchanged a wry smile with Ben.

“We’re already heading to London right now,” said Ben, his smirk noticeably broader than Carewyn’s. “The Admiral plans on requesting an audience with the King himself.”

“With Beckett gone, I’m in the best position I’ll ever be in, to make my move,” Carewyn said, her blue eyes flashing with determined fire. “I’m done with staying silent -- I intend to convince the King to give every pirate the chance to start their lives over.”

And so Carewyn sailed for London with Ashe, Ben, and Percy as her entourage. Meeting King George I would be a formidable proposition for anyone, but Carewyn fortunately was able to prepare a little ahead of time. The Weasley family had grown up near London, so Percy was able to give Carewyn some advice of how to approach the King --

“His Majesty was born and raised in the Holy Roman Empire, so English is not his first language. There are some rumors that he really doesn’t even speak English at all, but I think that’s highly exaggerated -- anti-German sentiment more than anything, you know. One thing that’s for sure, though, is that what he says goes. He’s even ostracized his own son and heir, so I’ve heard, since he was more popular with the British people. But he also can’t stand the Tories -- they never quite accepted his claim to the throne, over the Stuarts...honestly, there are a lot of people who’ve never really warmed up to the man...”

“And financially?” asked Carewyn.

Percy considered this. “...Well, the King’s very wealthy, certainly -- everyone knows that. But I suppose profit would always be advantageous, for the sake of the Empire...”

Carewyn smiled wryly and shook her head. “The Navy has been commanded by the East India Trading Company more than the King himself, as of late. Beckett once equated money with power, and I think there was a reason. If the King’s been leaning so heavily on the Company, that tells me that it had financial resources the Crown is in desperate need of, so the Crown’s own coffers currently depend on the Company’s success.”

Ben got an delighted, devious glint in his eye.

“Bet he’ll be absolutely thrilled to hear what happened to his fleet, then,” he said sarcastically.

Ashe and Carewyn exchanged a smirk too.

“I reckon you could play to that desperation,” said Ashe dryly. “A lack of or loss of wealth is a very common fear among men, I’ve found.”

Carewyn nodded in agreement.

Within twenty days, the HMS Royal docked in London, a few days ahead of schedule thanks to the almost miraculously clear weather and friendly winds. Carewyn then traveled with Percy, Ashe, and Ben to Kensington Palace. It was only one of many castles owned by the King, but according to Percy, it was the one King George I had renovated the most, so Carewyn sussed out that it was likely his favorite of his residences and so, in her opinion, the best place to seek him out first. Her intuition turned out to be spot-on -- as it turned out, both King George I and his son the Prince were there, and although the King was occupied with his Ministers and couldn’t meet with them until that evening, Prince George Augustus was eager to meet the famous Admiral Weasley and requested an audience in one of the royal drawing rooms.

The Crown Prince of England was an amiable and warm, but not a very clever or intellectual man of about forty years. He expressed a lot of interest in Carewyn’s experience as a Navy hero, sounding rather like a child as he questioned her about facing off against the likes of Orion Amari and the crew of the dreaded ship Revenge. Carewyn did have to tailor her stories somewhat, but after a while, she was able to get Prince George comfortable enough that they ended up talking casually over a game of Cribbage, where Carewyn gleaned a few other helpful insights. For one, Carewyn learned that both the King and Prince knew several languages, the first being French, which was the preferred language at court as well as among royals abroad. She also found out that the royal family had never visited the colonies themselves, and that King George I’s leading advisor on matters of business -- the First Lord of the Treasury, Sir Robert Walpole -- had been personally putting more stock in the East India Trading Company than on investing any additional money into the colonies. From the sound of things, he believed as Cutler Beckett did in the power of money over noble ancestry, and yet the Prince conceded that his wife and father both thought well of him and that he was relatively amiable.

When Carewyn finally got her audience with King George I, she sure enough encountered Sir Robert Walpole. He was a broad middle-aged man with a powdered white wig curled into ringlets who stood beside the gray-wigged, tiny-eyed elderly King -- and the news of Cutler Beckett’s fate and the outcome of the confrontation at Shipwreck Cove visibly troubled him. As Carewyn had thought, the Crown had been counting on the East India Trading Company’s profits to flow back toward England to offset the national debt brought on by the War of Spanish Succession and Britain’s other conflicts...and so, when she made her proposal to the King, she felt rather confident.

“Votre Majesté...the scourge of piracy is indeed a threat, not just to the lives of our citizens, but to the Empire’s prosperity. But the East India Trading Company is a business -- they’re not trained in military matters, nor do they know how best to use the resources of the British Crown to combat this problem. They’re not equipped to deal with sensitive matters of state, which truthfully, I believe this to be. We don’t need to get England tied up in another military conflict...particularly when there’s a much more cost-effective alternative.”

King George I raised his graying eyebrows with some interest, but did not speak.

“And what alternative would you suggest, Admiral?” asked Walpole, looking rather curious himself.

“Investing in the colonies,” said Carewyn very firmly. “There’s still a lot of undeveloped land out there -- a lot of trading potential in beaver skins, lumber, and tobacco -- the possibility of wealth that’s been left untapped by the East India Trading Company, with their intense focus on Asia. These men who have become pirates, many of them, were privateers under us during our War against the Spanish. They know shipping and are in need of honest work. They’ve asked for it explicitly. I say that we offer pardons to those pirates who would be willing to work for a new trading company in New England -- one that can be for the colonies what the Company in India already is.”

Walpole frowned deeply in thought, considering the proposal. King George straightened up slightly in his throne so he could peer down at Carewyn with a beady eye.

“You believe, truly, that these criminals would want honest employment?” the old man asked.

His voice was very quiet and laced with a husky German accent. Apparently Percy was right to think the rumors that he couldn’t speak English weren’t true, but he seemed a bit uncomfortable with the language, all the same.

Carewyn smiled at the King. “Oui, mon roi. Beasts can survive on human flesh alone, but humans need a home and money in order to live well. Et les pirates...pardon, I hope that word is correct...sont juste les humains.”

King George’s tiny eyes softened noticeably.

“Your French is very poor, Admiral,” he said in rather smug amusement, “but your word choice is correct.”

He looked at Walpole. “What say you, Earl?”

Walpole considered his answer. “...It could be an interesting proposition -- were we able to locate someone who’d be willing to put his name, reputation, and estate on the line, to fund such a company...”

“I volunteer.”

Ben took a step forward and gave a low, but clipped bow to the King.

“Lord Earl, Your Majesty, this is Captain Gordon Cooper, of the HMS Royal,” Carewyn introduced him. “He was instrumental in helping me lead our men during the battle at Shipwreck Cove.”

“I already have a small sum of money saved up, your Majesty -- enough to purchase one or two ships of my own, to start with,” said Ben. “I truly believe that the profits I could make with those two ships just from offering safe passage to the colonies would be enough to fund the purchase of another. All I’d need would be some collateral to pay a crew for each ship in advance.”

"A standard ship would only need about ten well-bodied men to sail it and transport its cargo efficiently,” Carewyn said quickly, seeing the slight hesitation in the King’s expression. "I’m no expert in finance -- ” she inclined her head respectfully in Walpole’s direction, “ -- but in order to settle more land in the colonies, trees would have to be cut down...which means more lumber to transport back to England. If the people Captain Cooper’s ships are transporting are settlers who are incentivized to build homes there -- possibly with the promise of land ownership -- then their arrival alone would spark a boom of lumber sales. That could then pay back the investment several times over.”

Walpole’s lips spread into a smile, one wryer than the King’s. He was clearly a much more discerning man than either of the two Georges, but he seemed pleased by the proposition, nonetheless.

“...Indeed it could,” he granted. He glanced at the King. “I daresay old Townsend would be pleased to have some financial leverage for his talks with the Spanish and French...”

“Mm...”

King George I gave a short, pompous nod before turning back to face Carewyn and the others.

“Very well. I grant my favor.”

Walpole inclined his head to Ben. “Captain Cooper, the Crown grants you and your Company permission to sail. We shall provide you a loan of 10,000 pounds sterling for your first twenty sailors and any necessary ship repairs, to be paid back with interest within a year. If your sailors complete a successful -- namely, profitable -- round-trip expedition to London on board those ships, then they will receive a full pardon from the British Crown for their past crimes and be permitted to continue working as part of your Company.”

Carewyn’s companions’ eyes all lit up.

“Understood,” said Ben, his face consumed by a huge grin.

“Admiral Weasley will deliver the terms to the pirates -- quietly,” said the King with a stern eye. “I expect written reports and good results.”

Carewyn’s face burst into a brilliant smile too, which she tried to obscure when she brought an arm up to her chest and gave a low bow.

“Mais oui. Merci, votre Grace -- we’ll work hard pour England, et pour vous aussi.”

The King’s eyes sparkled with the trace of a wry smile. “Vous etes un garçon très divertissant, Amiral. J'espère que votre français se sera amélioré lors de notre prochaine rencontre.”

With the King’s blessing, Ben purchased the ships needed in London and, with Percy’s help, prepared them for their first expedition. Carewyn returned to the HMS Lion with Ashe, taking it out to sea just far enough that the Flying Dutchman could emerge from the water and pull up alongside the Navy ship. Carewyn relayed King George I’s decision to Jacob in her cabin, and the Captain of the Flying Dutchman was so overwhelmed with pride that he threw his arms around his little sister and squeezed her with all of his strength. Carewyn, however, found herself unable to celebrate.

“What’s wrong, Wyn?” said Jacob. He tilted his head to look at her, his eel-like ponytail twitching almost curiously behind him. “You did it -- you convinced the King. The Lords at Shipwreck Cove, all the people who live there, will be able to live normal lives again, and it’s all thanks to you.”

“I know,” said Carewyn lowly.

Despite herself, she just couldn’t meet her brother’s gaze. Her eyes lingered on his shoulder.

“...I just wish I could’ve given you that kind of normal life too,” she admitted.

Jacob’s blue eyes darkened. Bringing up both of his arms, he encircled Carewyn and held her tightly against his chest as he rested his head on top of hers. Carewyn bit her lip, trying to hold in her emotions as best she could.

“I wanted to bring you home,” she murmured. “The whole reason I wanted to fight for a world where pirates could be forgiven was because I wanted you to be able to come home...you and Bill and Charlie and Jules and Orion...”

Jacob squeezed Carewyn that bit tighter. Both Cromwells were crying now, even though they both stubbornly fought to keep themselves from breaking down into full sobs.

Ashe shared a grim look with Jacob over Carewyn’s head. Then he came up beside both of them, resting a hand on the crown of Carewyn’s head and leaning his forehead against his lover’s, and hummed something low under his breath. The resonant bass tone seemed to slowly calm Carewyn’s heart and breathing and help the tears ebb.

After a moment, she took a deep breath and looked up at Ashe with muted gratitude, before she turned back to her brother.

“...Now that I’ve done my duty and made sure the Crown’s terms were delivered, I intend to send in my resignation to the Navy. I can’t support Ben’s new Company while I’m still Admiral without worrying about a conflict of interest, after all.”

She offered a weak wry smile, which then slowly morphed into a much more gentle one.

“Besides...I think I’m ready to finally stop fighting.”

Jacob’s teary eyes softened fondly. “Then live, my sweet Wyn. Live in peace and happiness...”

With a heavy breath, he picked up the Dead Man’s Chest he’d brought with him back off Carewyn’s desk and faced Ashe.

“I’ll need to head to the next world soon,” said Jacob. “Would you...?”

Ashe inclined his head in a solemn nod. “Give it to me, Jack.”

Very carefully, Jacob placed the Chest into Ashe’s open hands, trailing his own much dirtier, faintly trembling hands over his lover’s once he’d taken it. His eyes darted from Ashe to Carewyn, looking heartbroken and almost starved -- like he longed so much to never look away from them again.

“Be safe,” Jacob mumbled, “and...please, keep a weather eye on the horizon for me?”

“How dare you ask me that.”

Ashe trailed his lips along the side of Jacob’s face in lingering, messy kisses, only pausing briefly to look him in the eye, blazing brown on blue.

“I will always wait, Jack. I will always find you again.”

Carewyn’s eyes were just as soft as she reached up into the inside pocket of her jacket and slowly withdrew a familiar star-like, sapphire-and-diamond pendant for Jacob to see.

It was the one he himself had given her on Isle de Muerta.

Jacob’s eyes flooded with more tears as Carewyn wrapped both of her arms around her brother’s neck, hugging him tightly just as she had then.

“We’ll be there, Jacob,” she murmured. Two streaks of tears slid from her closed eyes. “I promise.”

Jacob delivered the British Crown’s terms to the Brethren Court at Shipwreck Cove within two days, after he’d returned from ferrying the proper souls to the next life. Within a month, a ship full of twenty sailors had arrived in London, ready to man the red-and-blue-painted ships Ben Copper had purchased. The two ships set sail for the colonies, the first up to New England and the second down to the Caribbean, which allowed Percy to return home to Port Royal and go about his duties as Commodore and Ben to finally be reunited with his love Wendy Gordon and propose marriage as a free and prosperous man.

Once the two ships returned to London another month later, the first wave of pardons was signed. From there, Ben’s enterprise -- the Gordon-Cooper Trading Company -- grew, taking on more ships that then proceeded to employ the once-most-wanted criminals in the world and give them a chance at a new life. And Carewyn -- retiring with full honors from the Navy and settling in New York City with Ashe under her real name for the first time since she was a child -- visited the dock every morning to see every ship that came in.

The first ship to New York brought Ellie Hopper. The once-Pirate Lord of the Mediterranean Sea ended up colliding with the soft-spoken third son of the well-respected horse breeder Johan Schaefer in upstate New York, and the two were married within a few years.

The second ship brought Merula Snyde and the stylish Frenchman Andre Egwu. The captain of the so-called “most powerful ship on the seven seas” continued as a merchant, breaking off from the Gordon-Cooper Trading Company to buy her own ship and engage in the tobacco and sugar trade between New England and the southern colonies. Andre opened up his own clothing shop in Philadelphia and soon became one of the most sought-after tailors in Pennsylvania.

The third ship brought Bill and Jules.

When Bill caught sight of Carewyn at the dock, he practically barreled his way down the ship’s gangplank and shoved a good ten people aside to reach his best friend. The two gingers and Jules then clung to each other for what felt like hours, tears of joy streaming down their faces as Bill trailed a hand through Carewyn’s now-loose-flowing hair and Jules fawned over Carewyn’s pretty new dress.

Bill and Jules also brought a letter from Charlie with them --

My twin, Carey,

I’m sorry I won’t be able to give you this news in person -- but I won’t be accepting my pardon for a while yet.

At Shipwreck Cove, I met a woman named Sarahi (I don’t believe you know her, but she knows you, and Orion spoke very well of her), who grew up in the area of the Pacific Ocean. According to what she’s said, it’s been left largely in chaos since the death of Bartholomew Sharp -- sea serpents, carnivorous sirens, giant squids, the whole lot...and as Pirate Lord of the Pacific, it’s my responsibility to manage things there. But hey, you know I’ve never been afraid of a little adventure! Particularly when I’ve got a good crew on my side. My First Mate Barnaby’s injuries have completely healed, so we, Sarahi, and Samantha O’Connell will be heading out within the next three days on the new and improved Revolution. Sam and Sarahi helped me paint some red dragon wings on the sides, just as a flourish!

I miss you so much, and I miss Bill already, just writing this -- but I know that we won’t ever be truly apart, even when I can only see you in my mind’s eye. I know you’ll probably be worried about me, Carey, but please don’t be. I’d trust my crew with my life -- I already have, honestly, and they sure haven’t let me down yet! I can’t wait for you to meet them. I reckon you’d probably “mother” the hell out of Barnaby, and Sarahi was really happy when I told her how good of a singer you are, so she’s very excited about the prospect of singing with you. And Sam...I reckon you and she will get on famously.

Remember, Carey...we’re family, now and forever! You’ll be in my mind and heart always, until I sail up into New York Harbor and see you again! If Bill hasn’t given you the biggest hug ever for my sake, then give him a good kick to the shin and remind him. Take good care of him, Jules, and Percy for me. Love you so much.

Your brother,

Charlie

Bill and Jules Weasley ended up settling down and starting a family of their own in New York City, just twelve blocks away from where Carewyn and Ashe lived. It was not uncommon over the years for both Carewyn and Ashe to pick up babysitting duties, though Ashe most frequently would just use his particular talent for singing to put any fussy children right to sleep and then drop them off in either Carewyn’s or Jules’s lap.

Over the next six months, more and more red-and-blue ships passed through New York Harbor, dropping off more pardoned ex-pirates so they could start new lives in the colonies. Then one day, toward the end of spring, Carewyn left the brick house she shared with Ashe as if to head for the dock as usual, only to stop mid-step at the sound of someone shouting her name.

“Carewyn!”

She turned around, her ginger hair flourishing behind her as if in slow motion.

A man had just leapt off the back of a carriage he’d been hanging off of without the driver’s knowledge and was now running toward her. Carewyn squinted, taking in his unfamiliar dark ponytail and sailor’s clothes -- then, within seconds, she recognized the handsomely smiling, bearded face and his shining, galaxy-like eyes.

“Orion?” she breathed.

Her heart seemed to seize up, as if it were being squeezed in someone’s hand and yet being given wings at the exact same time. Then she threw herself into a run, and it slammed against her rib cage, as she ran to him, flat-out ignoring how her knees kept getting caught in her hoops and her heeled shoes pinched her feet.

“Orion -- ORION!”

She just about tripped into his arms. Orion caught her and swooped down on her, burying his face in her hair.

“Carewyn...” he murmured against her neck.

“Orion,” said Carewyn.

Her voice was strained with the effort of trying to contain her joy. It felt like she was being stretched at the seams and probably could’ve exploded from all the intense emotions beating at the edges of her heart. She secured her arms around his neck and clung to him -- she brought her lips up to the side of his temple and kissed it, resting her forehead against his briefly before finally pulling away enough to look him in the face.

Orion was beaming from ear to ear as he brought up a hand to trail his thumb gently along her cheek.

“...Carewyn Cromwell...I don’t think you’ve ever looked more fair.”

Carewyn smiled. “Does that mean you like my new look?”

“Yes,” said Orion, his eyes grazing her black-and-white-striped dress and the diamond-and-sapphire pendant tied with a black ribbon around her neck briefly, “but that’s not why you look so fair. You’ve been my moon goddess, previously...but now you are Libertas, personified.”

Carewyn laughed, her face contorted with confusion. “What?”

“Libertas, Carewyn,” repeated Orion, his huge smile never faltering. “The goddess of freedom! Freedom is the most beautiful thing, Carewyn. I’ve longed for it all my life, but never could truly have it, whether because I lacked the means of survival or because I was a pirate who could only live on the run. And when we first met again, on the Artemis...the thing that hurt me the most, seeing you again...was knowing that you were trapped by your position -- enslaved to the duty that made you hide who you were and march lock-step with the likes of Cutler Beckett. But now you...in this moment, here...you are free. It shines in your eyes, on your face -- it radiates off of you like a star, Carewyn. Better still -- because of you, I am free. For the first time in my life...I’m completely free to chase my heart’s desire...”

Orion’s smile seemed to shrink slightly, not out of lack of happiness but out of something almost like nerves, as he reached into his lone remaining belt and slipped out a familiar black-lidded compass.

"McNully, Skye and I have been offered salaried positions with the Gordon-Cooper Trading Company,” he said a bit more seriously, “so I may have to return to sea in the future, but...”

When he opened the compass, its scarlet arrow was pointed right at Carewyn.

“...My heart’s desire has not changed. I would always return, if you...”

He trailed off, his tone oddly shy for how calm his face appeared. The once-Admiral’s red-painted lips spread into a bigger, fuller smile too as she rested her hands on top of his.

“I wouldn’t have married you in the middle of a storm if I didn’t want to build a life with you, Orion Amari,” she said gently. “Or is it Cromwell now? We may want to make a decision about that...”

She smoothed some dark hair out of his eyes.

“I already told you that I want you to have a home. If you need to fly like a bird...then I’ll be your nest.”

Carewyn placed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. His black eyes softening, Orion brought up a hand to hold the back of her head, holding it in place. He kissed her chastely in return once, twice, and then deepened the kiss on the third go. After he released her, he lingered, his lips brushing up against hers as he smiled down at her.

“...My dear Bedlam maid...I will always follow your song home.”

Carewyn’s blue eyes sparkled affectionately. “Then I’ll never stop singing.”

“See that you don’t,” said Orion, his black eyes glittering with some wry amusement. “I do believe I said I’d envisioned a life for you where you married a man that you could sing for.”

Carewyn laughed quietly, but after a moment, she brought her forehead beside her husband’s, her arms secure around his neck as she held him close and sang for him.

“So now these two are married, and happy may they be, Like turtle doves together, in love and unity.

All pretty maids, with patience wait, that have got loves at sea – I love my love because I know...my love…loves…me.”

#THE END!#*collapses*#holy friggin' s***#wow #I'm overwhelmed #but happy!#very happy!#83 #interestingly george i died about a year after the end of the golden age of piracy #so really it's a good thing that carewyn was able to make nice with both him and his son who of course became george ii #george ii also retained walpole as an advisor so the piracy pardons would've been able to continue into george ii's reign :)#ashe naturally would spend half his time at carey's place and half on the sea with jacob when he was in the world of the living <3 #and yes charlie would pop into new york harbor now and again with his crew #I just see him living happily ever after on the high seas rather than on land #I'm sure there were other pirates who followed charlie's path too #hphm #hogwarts mystery #carewyn cromwell #potc au #orion amari #jacob cromwell #duncan ashe #percy weasley #ben copper #gwendolyn gordon #samantha o'connell #sarahi silvers #barnaby lee #my art #my writing

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realityhelixcreates · 3 years

Text

Dance of The Spheres Chapter 1: Terran Tarantella

Chapters: 1/?

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG 13

Warnings: drugging, kidnapping, implied murder

Characters: Loki(Marvel), Heimdall(Marvel)

Additional Tags: Loki Goes Overboard, But When Doesn’t Loki go Overboard, Mature Reader, Disabled Reader, Political Intrigue

Summary:

“I see a bad moon a-rising

I see trouble on the way

I see earthquakes and lightnin’

I see bad times today”

Creedence Clearwater Revival

A small group of men, and one woman gathered in a small room; the kind that seemed like a storage closet from the outside, the kind that had cameras installed, but not functioning. Beyond this room, the basic hustle of running a government rushed on, but within it, all heads were turned to a handful of hand written documents scattered over the table.

“And you're absolutely sure this translation is correct?” One of them asked.

“Yes.” The woman said. “Well, as much as I can be. Old Norse is a contentious language, but this is written so much more clearly than most of our primary sources.” She gestured to the letter in question, written in gold ink on purple parchment. It was a museum quality piece of work, and it would likely never see the inside of one. Its contents were just too incriminating. Especially since the President seemed to be seriously considering it.

“Hm. Well then, we should probably chose someone shouldn't we?” He said.

“Mister President?” The translator asked. “Are you sure? I've been quite plain about what this says. What is being asked of us. It's...reprehensible. And frankly, I am surprised that King Thor would even allow it.”

“Ma'am, this is a culture that is old beyond reckoning.” Another man-one of the generals? She couldn't keep them straight-piped in. “An alien race on top of that. It's only to be expected that they would have customs that are unfamiliar, even repugnant to us. We should keep an open mind.”

It was ridiculous. She knew for a fact that many of the people in this room and beyond held virulent hatred for several cultures that existed on Earth. There was no reason they should be showing this kind of cultural sensitivity to a bunch of aliens who just showed up and started making demands. Especially that one...

“I ask you to understand that sometimes we make hard sacrifices for the good of all.” The President said. “Asgard is a galactic superpower.”

“Was.” She pointed out. “Now they're a bunch of refugees.”

The President gave her an annoyed glance. “They will no doubt regain their power shortly. Their technology is wildly advanced. And if we go along with the occasional weird little whim they have, they will be grateful. So America gains access to Asgardian tech. Imagine how many people could have their lives bettered by Asgardian friendship.”

The translator couldn't help but wonder since when this man gave a shit about bettering the lives of others. It was disgusting, that this was probably just another path to money and power for him. Even moreso that no one else in the room was questioning this, even a little bit. They were all known for eating scraps from his table anyway, and likely looking to grab some of those benefits for themselves. At what expense?

She decided to start looking for another job.

“Asgardian friendship would certainly be a boon for our country.” She said. “Do you have further need of me?” She wanted out of here badly now. She didn't want to be in the room while they made this awful choice.

“No.” The president said. He tapped one of his men on the arm. “Escort her out, would you?”

With relief, she followed the man out of the room.

She never made it to her car.

******

Loki wandered through the dark and cramped byways, to the furthest reaches of their new settlement, past the places where the rest of his people felt safe, past where even he felt safe. These outside places were no longer the haunts of petty criminals or undesirables exactly, not that he feared such unsavories. No, these rough walls were now the lair of the most notorious and hidden Asgardian of all. So mythical was she, that almost no one knew she still lived.

Gullveig the witch. If stories were to be believed, she was the first witch. If stories were to be believed, she had been killed three times, and returned each time. If stories were to be believed, that meant she was now beyond death.

If stories were to be believed, that meant he was as well.

But that was not why he was here.

In all the whispers, in all the screamed confessions, all the gibbering of those who had visited her, her power was very real. Real and terrible, for she could grant any wish, any wish at all, and sometimes that was far more than the wisher actually wanted. Word a wish poorly, and it would be granted. Fail to think through the consequences of a wish, and it would still be granted. It was why she had been killed so many times in the first place. But that was the fault of the wishers, not Gullveig herself.

And Loki had thought through this wish, and knew what it would cost him. But the gains...if he had calculated correctly, predicted correctly, the gains for Asgard could be immense. Steeling himself, he found the one area that appeared to be lit, and entered.

“You have returned again.” She said in her cracked and watery voice. Her back was to him, and she appeared to be warming her hands over a tiny fire in a glowing crucible. Fires-real fires-were strictly forbidden within the confines of Asgard right now, but it was debatable whether those embers counted as a real fire, debatable whether she lived within Asgard. On the edge of things, always as she liked it. “So you are truly committed?”

“I am.” Loki said. “I have made my decision.”

The old witch cackled in amusement. “It may be your last! After this, you will be different. You know this, yes? This person who stands in my doorway? He will no longer exist.”

“That is by design.” Loki said.

She turned to face him. She was, by far, the oldest Asgardian he had ever seen; bent, wizened, wrinkled and scraggly. She didn't look the part of a witch. She wasn't horrifying to look at, simply old, frail, wrapped in a pale shawl. She wasn't frightening at all, except that he knew her to be older than his father's father, and that she had one, single-minded focus in life that transcended any morality or ethics she might have ever had.

“Did you bring me what I want?” she asked.

“Yes.” He offered up a sizable sack, filled with every last scrap of gold that he owned. He had pried it from his armor, stripped it from his jewelry, and pricked out every last shimmering thread from his royal wardrobe. His, and only his: she would not accept any that he had taken from someone else. This had to be his sacrifice to make-the first of several.

Gold was all she ever wanted. Anyone could buy her services, if only they offered gold. Sometimes she didn't care where they got it, but as a ruler, he was a special case. No one knew what she did with it. Surely, she had collected enough over the millennia to build a palace out of it, but it was never anywhere to be seen.

She smiled at the sight of it, seemed to stand straighter, move more spryly.

“Now, for yours.” She plunged her claw-like fingers into the crucible, stirring the embers and ashes with rapidly blackening talons. She plucked forth a glowing ring, strewn with runes, and shook it, blowing ashes from the darkening metal. Using her tattered apron, she polished the ring until it shone even in the weak light of her tiny hovel.

It was not gold, which she would never have parted with, but platinum, a metal that just happened to be fairly abundant in their new settlement. He did not know if the powers of Midgard were aware of the riches to be found in the place they had allotted to Asgard, but he would certainly see that Asgard got to claim them.

The glow and runes had thoroughly faded from the ring before she set it on his palm, with the instruction 'not to put it on until you mean it'. But he knew exactly what he was going to do with it. He had taken the opportunity while Thor slept the long and powerful sleep of an Asgardian ruler, to send a message to the country of most of his brother's friends. The country he had tried to conquer. It was a message that promised things, as in days of old. A promise of power, of friendship, of mutual benefit, in exchange for a life. The simplest and most common of agreements.

Perhaps that might make up for his earlier...indiscretion.

He vanished the ring to his magical hiding place, and exited Gullveig's home. While Thor slept, Loki ruled, and it wouldn't do for him to be missed. Winding along through long, rough corridors, until he returned to the well-lit and finished walls of Asgard's new buildings, he found Heimdall and his advisors waiting. Perfect. He needed to tell them to expect a visitor soon.

******

“There. I think that's everybody within the parameters.” One worker said, pushing back from his computer.

“Let me check.” His partner leaned over the keyboard. “Lessee...age range, yeah...unmarried, yeah...less than twelve thousand a year, yeah...anti-Party sentiments on social media...arrest record, yeah...'other undesirable'? That's pretty cold.”

“This whole thing is cold.” He agreed. “But the projected benefits are worth it. Whoever's chosen will be contributing more than their current life is worth.”

“Cold as ice. Well, let's do this.” His partner hit the sort command, the program sifting through millions of names before settling on one at random.

“Well, there's our unlucky lady.” He said, pulling up all the personal information the computer had. “Sorry about this, miss, but maybe you should've made better life choices. Either way, your sacrifice will usher in a new age of prosperity for us.”

“Well, when do we get her?”

“We've got people in her town. We'll just send them a message tomorrow. Well, sleep tight, miss. There's no telling what that freak is going to do to you.”

“Fucking frigid, man.”

******

With a groan, you pulled yourself out of bed. Another day, another dollar. Never quite enough dollars for the amount of days you spent though.

You found your cane and hobbled to the shower, wasting precious morning moments under the warm spray. You probably wouldn't get a chance to bathe this evening. You would be going to a protest-you had finished your sign last night, and it should be dry by now.

You didn't bother to turn on the lights; the sun was peeking through your window, and it wasn't like your studio apartment had much clutter to trip over anyway.

Getting your leg attached, and grabbing a slice of buttered bread, you just barely caught the bus to work.

It was simple data entry, but it-barely-paid the bills. And it didn't require you to stand for hours, or be constantly walking back and forth, or talking directly to customers, so you were thankful to have it.

You'd still be voting for better conditions though, and surreptitiously trying to unionize. You, and everyone there were still being exploited, and it wouldn't do to just accept that, simply because it could be worse.

Now if only Betty had called in...Nope, she hadn't. It was practically every day lately, that you prayed for your ultra-conservative coworker to just stay home, but she never did. She bragged to you-or within earshot of you-very often about her perfect attendance. You could never prove that she was doing it as a jab to your occasional medical related absences, but you wouldn't put it past her.

She noticed you slipping your sign under your desk.

“That's inappropriate.” She said with unconcealed disgust. Ugh, the twit would hate protesters. She somehow thought she was closer to those power-hungry hangers-on that the regime seemed to draw out of the woodwork. She had much more in common with the people crawling in the streets than she ever would with the so-called 'president' and his cronies, and she would actually benefit from the changes you were all marching for, but her pointy, oyster-white nose was so far in the air that she would never see it.

“It's none of your business.” You grumbled, slipping into your chair, and setting your cane aside. You wouldn't be getting up from there for the next few hours.

“It is my business to know whether I share a cubicle wall with a violent thug!” She trilled sanctimoniously.

“Okay, first of all, that kind of accusation is inappropriate, and prohibited by company policy. Second of all, what am I gonna do? Limp at you?”

“If you decide to get aggressive with me, I can't escape. I have to run down the stairs, but you can beat me to any floor, just by using the elevator!”

“This again? Give it a rest!” You were this close to reporting her. Again. Maybe if you did it enough times, somebody would actually do something about it.

Betty held a genuine grudge over the fact that you were the only employee on this floor who got to use the janky old service elevator. Everybody else had to use the stairs. Never mind that it was literally the only way for you to even get to your desk. No, if there was something that some people were allowed to do, but Betty wasn't, it was clearly incontestable proof of oppression against Betty herself. Also, if the 'wrong sort' of people were allowed to do the same things Betty was, well that was also anti-Betty oppression. She just wanted so badly to be able to claim oppression, that she didn't realize that she actually was being oppressed by the people she wanted just as desperately to emulate.

She was exhausting.

“Good morning you two! Hey Betty, you got those numbers for me yet?” Saved by the boss. Well, not really. He didn't like you, but he didn't like Betty either. He didn't hate either of you. He was just the boss-make believe friendly, but distant, concerned with other things. However, he disliked when employees wasted time, and Betty did. A lot. That's what happened when someone was an incorrigible gossip.

Betty slunk back to her desk, cowed for at least a few minutes. He handed you a bit more work to do, then meandered down the aisle, greeting other employees, and handing out more work on his way to his own tiny office. He wasn't all that important either, in the scheme of things. It was really amazing how many people kept their gaze so fixed on the people in power that they couldn't see them pouring quicksand around their feet.

But you would lend your voice to the march on their behalf anyway. They deserved better too. Maybe they'd see it someday, instead of continuing to fight against their own interests.

For now, though, you would concentrate on your work.

The morning came and went, your little lunch alarm signaling its death. You grabbed your cane and walked slowly and carefully to the break room. You kept a week's worth of small lunches in baggies in the fridge here. Salami, little cheese slices, crackers, cherry tomatoes, baby carrots, and grapes. Not much, but tasty and filling, and you got all the food groups. There was an unspoken rule about not messing with other people's food that, thankfully, nobody in the office had ever broken; at least not while you'd been here.

You could see into the tidy lines of cubicles from the break room, and while you crunched away at your carrots, you noticed something worrying. There were two men in matching suits and shades talking to Betty. She spoke to them animatedly, gesturing at your cubicle. One of the men peeked inside.

Oh, you didn't like that at all.

You didn't actually have anything to hide, but you knew damn well that didn't matter. If these were cops-or worse-they would find whatever it was they wanted to find, one way or another.

By the time you got back from your lunch break, the men had disappeared, but Betty still had a distressingly smug grin on her face. You checked every drawer and every cranny of your desk: nothing had been taken, and nothing had been left behind. You went back to work, trying to ignore the anxiousness that was creeping up your back.

You had just finished and sent your last spreadsheet when your boss opened his door and called you to his office. You slowly made your way there, trying not to pay attention to the malice sparkling in Betty's face, or how your other coworkers glanced at you with pity or distrust.

The suspicious pair of men were hiding out in your boss' office, and you'd never seen him looking more uncomfortable.

One of the men positioned himself closer to the door behind you, not that you could run anyway.

“Um...Do you know why I called you in here?” Your boss asked.

“I assume it has something to do with your new friends.” You said sourly. This was going bad, you could see it a mile off. You honestly didn't know why they were here, or what they wanted. “Seriously though, no I don't. Why have you called me in here?”

You'd make him say it at least.

“Er, well, unfortunately your employment with us has been, well, terminated. So, if you would just gather up your things-”

“Woah, woah, woah!” You interrupted. “On what grounds? Because these guys said so?”

'These guys' said nothing.

“No, no, it's, uh...your arrest record...”

“That's ridiculous! Why didn't you fire me two months ago then, when it happened? Because you know it was pure bullcrap, that's why! You saw the footage; I never threw anything at that cop! He tripped over some garbage that was already there, then turned around, knocked me down, and hit me with my own cane. They let me out the same day because they knew they had nothing. Cane's still bent.”

“Look, I'm sorry, but you're fired. I'm sorry. Now go on, get out of here.”

And take them with you seemed to be the unspoken plea. You stormed out of the office with as much dignity as you could, spoke to no one, shoved the meager contents of your desk into your purse, gabbed your sign, and got into the old service elevator for the last time.

You would be reporting this, to anybody who would listen. It was completely unacceptable. And now you would have to go through the ordeal of applying either for unemployment, or disability. You hoped your savings would last long enough for your appeals to go through.

You spotted their reflections in a display window on the way to the bus stop. The two men from the office were following you now. Were they feds? Had Betty and your spineless boss sold you out to the feds? You hadn't even done anything!

You almost expected it when they dragged you into an alley, a pungent-smelling cloth held tight over your face, muffling your voice. It made you cough, but that also made you inhale, and in moments, soft blackness wrapped around you.

#danceofthespheres #loki x reader #disabled reader #loki (marvel)#thor (marvel)#Heimdall (Marvel)

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voiceless-terror · 4 years

Text

Proficient in PowerPoint (The Magnus Archives)

Summary:

“Why are there so many animations?” Jon tapped his foot impatiently through the unnecessarily arduous process of getting to the next page. “I’m not a child. This is for Elias, not a primary school.”

“I thought they looked nice…” Martin said softly, shuffling his feet. “I can take them out, if you’d like-”

“They’re wonderful Martin, don’t listen to him."

Jon has to make a presentation for Elias. Sasha, Tim, and Martin help, with dubious results.

“It’s standard procedure, Jon. Every new department head does a presentation.” “But I-” Jon left off with a sigh. Being called up to his boss’s office at the beginning of the day to be informed that he would be making a presentation to all of his intimidating colleagues (and superiors, if he were being honest) was not the way Jon wanted to start his Monday. Besides, what was he going to say? How could he explain this mess of an Archive that was currently under his command? That he didn’t really know what an Archivist did, and that when he googled the position it didn’t seem anything like what Elias had described? He might as well get in front of the room, announce his resignation and go home. Somedays this felt like the best course of action.

He’d heard the whispers following the email announcing his promotion to Head Archivist. “Him?” was said more than once. A few scoffs, a few appraising eyes from the other department heads who were all at least a decade older than him. Even Sasha and Tim had given him a sort of silent treatment, only speaking to him in short sentences and one-word answers in the weeks that immediately followed.

Elias seemed to sense his unease. “It doesn’t have to be long. Just a rundown, a simple assessment of the Archives as they are and what you plan on implementing during your tenure. Perhaps a little about you and your team. Introduce yourself. Everyone’s eager to learn a bit more about you.” Jon very much doubted that.

“Well the Archives, in my “assessment,” are currently a mess.” His candor was not appreciated. Elias was not amused.

“A mess that you’re going to fix,” Elias gave him a withering glance. “I assumed you could handle this, but if that’s not the case-”

“No, I-” He sighed again, the only sound he was capable of making. “Al-Alright. You said it was this Friday, correct?”

“Yes!” Elias gave him a brief smile and ushered him out of the door with a hand on his shoulder, signaling the conversation was over. “Let me know if you have any issues. Not that you will, of course.” Of course.

The door shut behind him and Rosie gave him a sympathetic look from her seat. “You hang in there, alright? You’ll do just fine.” Either Jon looked that pathetic, or Rosie truly did eavesdrop on every conversation.

Perhaps a bit of both.

__________

It was Wednesday evening and Jon was staring at a blank screen.

Everyone else was packing up for the day while he sat in his chair, stewing over what words to write. He should be recording statements like Elias wanted, not putting together some bureaucratic nonsense so the others could ‘get to know him and his plans.’ He didn’t really have a plan for the Archives besides digitization, and even that was going disastrously. Should he even mention the tapes? He’d likely be met with scorn and laughter. Elias may find them promising, but anyone who took one look at their equipment said otherwise. Google told him that he should share fun facts about the team but that seemed highly unprofessional. Who cared that he liked to watch documentaries in what little spare time he had? Instead, he’d written a very bare-bones outline of what he’d like to say but for some reason typing it out was impossible. The only thing he’d managed to get was a layout and font in neutral, unobtrusive colors. This was very important to him.

“Still stuck on the presentation, Jon?”

Sasha was leaning against the doorway with a gentle smile on her face. She knew how hard it was for Jon to get his thoughts together sometimes and was always a sympathetic ear when it got particularly bad. She seemed to have finally settled into her role (whatever that may be) and was talking to him more and more. Though no one in the department had any experience in archiving, Sasha at least had more concrete ideas.

“Yes, I’m just-” he sighed, taking his glasses off and rubbing his temples to ward off the approaching headache. “I’ve got no idea what he wants. What is a ‘rundown’ and how can I have one with the Archives like...this?” He gestured to his mess of an office, currently drowning in paper and cardboard boxes.

“Well, what do you have so far?” Jon grimaced and handed over his notebook, filled with messy scribbles and half-finished ideas. Sasha skimmed it and made a few promising noises; Jon hated the part of himself that sought her approval. She finished and looked up with a grin. “How about you let me have a go at it? You know I love this sort of thing, and then you’ll have some time to record that statement tomorrow, hm?”

“I-really? Would that be okay? I don’t want you to have to- I mean, it’s my job.”

“I’m your assistant, Jon,” she interrupted with a placating hand. “So let me assist you!” Her offer seemed very genuine. Jon was loath to ask for help or admit to trouble even in the best of cases, but Sasha had a way of wearing him down with one well-placed smile. He decided to take the hand offered.

“Thank you, Sasha. Really.” He leaned back in his chair and gave her a grateful smile, glad for any progress made on the project.

“And it’s no problem. Really.” She tucked his notebook into her bag and gave a cheerful nod. “I’ll show you what we come up with!”

______

Jon yawned into his fist for the fourth time in an hour. The Amy Patel statement wouldn’t record on the computer so unfortunately he brought out the tape recorder. For some reason every time he recorded to tape he came away exhausted and anxious, unsettled by the words he spoke. Luckily he managed to get to the follow up recorded without too many interruptions- usually one of his assistants would come banging on the door and he’d be forced to start over for the sake of professionalism.

“Knock knock!”

Speak of the devil. Tim grinned at him from the doorway, Martin standing close behind him.

“Yes?” he asked shortly, straightening the files on his desk. “Do you need something?”

“Your presentation, as requested!” Tim bestowed upon him a flash drive with much pomp and circumstance. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh! Er, I thought I gave that to Sasha?” He looked in surprise at the device before him. He wasn’t expecting them to actually finish everything- he also wasn’t expecting anyone but Sasha to help him out. If Tim and Martin helped out as well... “I’ll uh, check it out in a few moments, thank you.

“But I want to show you now, boss!” Tim’s voice reached the whiny pitch that he knew Jon loathed. He sighed however, and plugged it in. After a few moments a window popped open, with a file labeled Jonny’s First Work Presentation. He rolled his eyes while Tim snickered. I’ll need to change that before the meeting…

The file looked...hellish, to say the least. Jon spied on the first few slides a strange and ugly gradient background that faded from bright green to black, along with garish rainbow WordArt. He was almost afraid to click on anything, lest it blind him or inspire a seizure.

“It’s really best viewed in slideshow mode,” Tim nudged Jon’s hand out of the way and made it so, the full screen now proudly showing the title page- Jonathan Sims’ New and Improved Archives!! Martin and Tim leaned in over his shoulder, the latter clearly excited to showcase his work. That’s never good.

“That’s far too many exclamation points, Tim.”

“There are never enough exclamation points, Jon.”

The next slide came in with a sort of shutter effect that did nothing to minimize the horrendous resizing done on the Magnus Institute logo, which had been stretched to fit almost the entire page and was unrecognizable due to pixilation. Jon gritted his teeth. “This is unnecessary.”

“Wow, everyone’s a critic,” Tim rolled his eyes.

“I-I can probably find a logo with better resolution,” Martin offered timidly. Jon had almost forgotten he was in the room.

The next pages were not much better- the Oxford English Dictionary’s definition of ‘archive,’ the audio pronunciation for it had a page to itself. There were several collages of books and artifacts (these looked handmade, as if someone had copy and pasted several finds from google images). Jon felt his anger grow with each laborious click. Was this someone’s idea of a joke? Where was Sasha? “Is there anything of actual substance in this?” he asked, huffing as the current slide disintegrated out of view in a dramatic fashion.

“God, so impatient! We’re building up to it.” A few more clicks. They got to a page covered with cartoon ghosts and nothing else. “Watch this!” With a click the ghosts all flew away, a clunky piece of animation that revealed Jonathan Sims’ Plan of ATTACK!!

“I did that one,” Martin announced in his ear with not a little pride.

The ‘plan of attack’ included bullet points (which were also little ghosts) regarding the new digitization and accessibility project in clear, cogent prose which must have been the work of Sasha. The rest, however- random paragraphs about ‘synergy’ and ‘dynamic team players’- was clearly unsalvageable and designed to make him the laughing stock of the institute.

“I can’t...this is unusable, Tim!”

“Keep reading! There’s good content there. God, there’s no accounting for taste these days, is there Martin?” Martin did not answer. What could Martin have said? Each page was worse than the last- the current slide had only a picture of what looked to be an ancient Egyptian scroll and nothing else.

“This is the definition of unusable.”

“No it’s not!” Tim argued though he was on the verge of laughter. He was smiling, clearly enjoying the entire scenario. “Look, I even put a ‘Meet the Team’ section-” He clicked through the slides, each piece of text gliding across the screen in an obnoxious star pattern.

“I thought they looked nice…” Martin said softly, shuffling his feet. “I can take them out, if you’d like-”

“They’re wonderful Martin, don’t listen to him,” Tim had finally reached the first slide of his ‘Meet the Team’ section. Instead of starting with Jon it began with an incredibly large photo of Tim, smiling and winking at the camera. Naturally.

“Tim Stoker: A Gentleman and a Scholar,” Jon read aloud. “I’m not saying that. And shouldn’t we be starting with me? I ask for one thing-”

“I saved the best for last, of course! Martin, you’ll love this,” Tim began frantically clicking through animations, taking a full minute to get to Jon’s slide. “Ta-da!”

Jonathan Sims: The Man, the Myth, the Legendary Archivist

It was a picture of Jon from a happy hour years ago, smiling broadly with half-lidded eyes and sprawled across the bar in a state of disarray. He had a vague memory of Sasha snapping the photo before he fell to the ground and vomited everything he drank. No no no no - he attempted to slam down the laptop screen before Martin could see but the damage was done. The man was red and stuttering, clearly embarrassed for Jon. He took a deep breath, attempting to calm down. He contemplated his options- double homicide or self-immolation. Both seemed equally appealing in the moment.

“Please leave,” he fumed, his own face a tomato red as he stared at the floor. “Now.”

“Aw boss, don’t be like that-”

“Now!” Two sets of footsteps scurried from the room as Jon threw his head into his hands.

He had quite a bit of work to do.

_____________

Of course he scrapped almost all of it, keeping only the informative parts that Sasha had written. This is why you should do things yourself. ‘Assist’ my ass.

Jon had kept the door closed for the rest of the afternoon, ignoring both the plaintive apologies from Tim and Martin and Sasha’s insistent knocking. He wanted to blame her for letting the other two get involved, wanted to yell and stamp and maybe throw a thing or two. But it was his job. He shouldn’t have left it all to them. Lazy, incompetent, his mind raged but the words were aimed at himself. Perhaps that’s why they sabotaged the slideshow, to tell him they weren’t going to do his dirty work. Hazing the new boss. Did they realize how important this was to him? Did they even care? He already looked like a fool- why not double down on it?

He took the ‘Meet the Team’ page down, his fingers angrily punched the ‘delete’ key for every picture and turned it into one slide with only their names and positions. That’s all they need to know, really. He managed to throw together a few slides on a new organizational system and something about research follow up, but it all rang false and hollow- any academic would see right through this bullshit attempt. Even the digitization slides seemed trite- why was this his first order of business? What the hell are you doing?

It was late into the night when he finally finished, though the presentation was nowhere near what he wanted it to be. The clock informed him it was only ten though, so he still had some time before the last train. He was just going to rest his eyes for a minute and then he’d get up and go. Just a minute...

____________

And then it was tomorrow.

Fuck. Fuck!

Jon woke up with his head pillowed in his arms and his back almost completely immobile. He squinted at the clock- 7:00 AM. He tripped down the hallway and into the bathroom to freshen up, splashing cold water on his face and cursing under his breath. How embarrassing to be caught in yesterday’s clothes- if he switched out his sweater vest for a blazer, they might not notice. His wardrobe was nothing if not consistent and boring. His hair tamed into some semblance of neatness, Jon went on to his next stop, the break room for a cup of coffee and then finally, back to his office to survey the finished product and perhaps do a few run-throughs.

He settled in his seat and pressed the power button to coax his laptop out of sleep. The clock on the wall ticked a steady, droning rhythm that somewhat calmed his racing heart and he took a sip of coffee, savoring the bitter flavor. His eyes flickered down to the screen- still black. He pressed it again. Nothing. He looked to the side of the computer, noticing the lack of power cord. Oh, it’s not plugged in. That’ll do it. He solved that problem quickly and tried again.

Again, nothing. He pushed it harder, hurting his finger with the intensity behind it. The screen remained black.

It was then that Jonathan Sims screamed.

_____________

It was nine in the morning and he still had no idea what to do. No amount of coaxing, either through nice words or obscenities had managed to wake it up. He removed the battery and put it back in. He prayed to several gods, none of which he believed in. He kicked the desk and promptly fell to the ground, screaming in pain. IT didn’t come in until ten, and his meeting was at nine-thirty. He was well and truly fucked.

But then he heard footsteps coming down the hall and he dashed to meet them, hoping it was the person he needed. And it was.

“Sasha!” he panted, taking in heaving, gulping breaths. “Help!”

“Oh God Jon, is this one of your asthma attacks? Do you have your inhaler?” Her eyes widened and her hands fluttered nervously. ‘I’ve told you-”

“No,” he grabbed her by the shoulders, feeling more unhinged by the moment. “I-I lost it. The PowerPoint. My laptop won’t turn on, and-”

“Breathe, Jon! That’s no trouble at all. I can get into your drive, no worries!” she said, pushing him into a chair and booting up her laptop. Jon put a hand to his chest, attempting to follow her advice. See, it’s fine! “Where did you save it? On your ShareDrive or on the general Archives one? I’ll need your credentials if it’s the former.”

His heart dropped. No no no no. He’d done the one thing Sasha had always warned him against. “I-I saved it to the desktop…”

“Oh Jon.”

And that's when he spiraled. He was going to have to walk into that meeting, hands empty, and face the firing squad. Elias will know he should have never hired him and everyone there will nod and agree that the stupid boy who couldn’t do one simple task does not belong at the table with the rest of him and Jon will be sent on his way, back to research if he’s lucky or fired if he’s not and he can’t do one fucking thing right-

“Jon. Jon!” Sasha had a hand on his shoulder, firm and grounding. “Fucking breathe. It’s fine, you’re fine! Here.” She slipped the flash drive from yesterday into his hand and he groaned, attempting to pass it back

“I can’t use that one, you know I can’t-”

“No, this one’s different, I promise,” She grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet her eyes. “I tried to tell you yesterday- I’m sorry about all of that. It wasn’t funny. We fixed it.” She seemed honest, sincere. But Jon was still hesitant, taking in shaking breaths.

“This isn’t a joke?”

“I swear. Here, use my laptop.” She passed it over and Jon paused, considering his options, which were few.

So Jon took the flash drive and laptop and left, ignoring Martin’s greetings as he brushed by him on his way up to the conference room. Here goes.

_____________

“Erm, h-hello,” Jon coughed, clearing his throat. “I’m Jonathan Sims, the new Head Archivist, as Elias...already said, I guess.” He let out a nervous laugh which no one returned. Elias nodded, urging him to go on.

Jon had made his way to the room with fifteen minutes to spare, giving him some time to boot up the computer and load the presentation. A quick, nervous glance let him know that it was much changed- at least the first few slides. He shook hands with each department head as they came in, trying to see which of their smiles and congratulations were sincere. The answer? Very few. This was not comforting.

His hands shook as he clicked his way to the first slide, his heart pounded in his chest to reveal-

Bringing the Archives into the 21st Century- A Plan for Updating and Digitizing the Institute's Statements

Well that’s not bad at all.

He began to speak, his voice gaining clarity and confidence with every sentence. The presentation was lovely- incorporating his preferred neutral color scheme, a great improvement on the nauseating colors of before. The animations were minimal and sleek, making the transitions meld seamlessly from slide to slide. There was a bit introducing Gertrude’s past work and a dig at her filing system that earned him a laugh. There were new slides regarding the preservation of documents, a new organizational structure, the introduction of a database. All ideas they’d briefly spoken about before committing themselves fully to the digitization process as Elias instructed. Everything was written in his favored academic tone- so natural that Jon found himself speaking extemporaneously on the slides he felt more comfortable with. It was all met with approving nods and a studious gaze from Elias that Jon couldn’t parse. There was also no mention of the tapes.

The dreaded ‘Meet the Team’ section had been heavily reworked- each one of them had the headshot from their IDs (poor Martin had his eyes closed) and a mention of which department they’d transferred from, along with their credentials. It was professional and informative, everything Jon had wanted it to be. Sasha had outdone herself. Sasha should be the one making this presentation.

He tried to ignore the guilt settling in his chest, even as he smiled back at the approval from the academics he so desperately craved. He clicked to the last slide, which had their contact information and- oh. It was a picture taken from his birthday a few weeks back, where they all looked fairly presentable and were smiling, no idea of the task ahead of them. Elias was there too; Rosie had taken the picture at Tim’s insistence. His audience tittered, though it seemed to be in good humor rather than mocking.

“Ah, yes. Th-Thank you for your time.” He quickly turned it off and stared at the ground, his face warm with both embarrassment and a creeping sense of belonging that he didn’t know what to do with. He was startled when a small round of applause began and he looked up with wide eyes to find a smiling audience. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elias nod and smile as well and he finally felt the sense of accomplishment he’d longed for since the start of his promotion.

The room cleared rather quickly (no one really wanted to be in a Friday meeting, after all) but Jon was stopped by a tall, smiling woman he had only seen in passing. “Sonya from Artefact Storage,” she reminded him, shaking his hand again and giving him a warm smile. “I’m looking forward to talking to you more about that database. I was always telling Gertrude she needed one, but of course she never listened to me. Stubborn to the end!” He could only stutter, too overwhelmed to formulate a proper response. A hand reached out to his shoulder.

“That was nicely done, Archivist.” For some reason the title made Jon feel odd, like he was having an honor bestowed that he had not yet earned. Elias wasn’t that much taller than him, but he always seemed to loom over Jon. “Quite the presentation. Lots of...ideas. But I must stress the importance of getting the statements-”

“On tape, yes, yes,” Jon said, quick to agree. “I just thought, er- I should let them know some of our other objectives, as well?” Seems like Sasha wanted to, at least.

“As long as you don’t forget yours,” A pointed glance. Jon gulped nervously, shoving a hand in his pocket. “Still, a good job all around. That Sasha of yours seems like a good asset. Enjoy your weekend.”

Jon froze in the doorway. Did he know? Of course not, don’t be silly. He shook his head and left the room. Well, at least that’s over with.

____________

“Did it go alright?” Sasha asked immediately upon his entrance. He managed a self-deprecating smile.

“Surprisingly, yes. That was- thank you, I guess.”

“No trouble at all,” Tim jumped out from the break room, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Always knew you had it in you. A consummate performer, I was telling our Martin-”

“Tim!” He scowled and tried in vain to shove him away, still irritated by his presence.

“Seriously, though. Sorry about all of that before. Just trying to lighten the mood, I swear we wouldn’t have actually left you with that-”

“It’s- It’s fine,” Jon sighed, reluctantly giving in to Tim’s insistent affection. “Well, not really, but it turned out alright in the end.” Sasha gave an encouraging grin.

“Did you like the photo?” Martin asked anxiously, hovering in the corner of the room. Jon paused. He considered telling him no, that he would have never put it in there himself and considered it rather unprofessional on the whole, but one look at Martin’s face told him that was the wrong move.

“Yes, Martin,” he said, summoning up the equivalent of a smile. “I liked the photo.”

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27142390

#my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #sasha james #tim stoker #martin blackwood #elias bouchard #just a bit of ridiculous fluff and nonsense #as advertised

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sugaabooga · 4 years

Text

Chance | 3

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader | Jimin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, rich!Jin, rich!Jimin

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: PG-13, none

Synopsis: Seokjin had no problem of getting girls and also had no problem of getting rid of them. One girl after the next. So why was it that you - a middle-class citizen - was an exception? You - a middle-class citizen - made Seokjin question if he really did have it all. But one thing’s for sure. He didn’t have any of your chances.

“Eh?”

Jimin holds up a hand in response to your confused expression with a small smile.

“Came to check up on my heartbroken friend,” he states, shuffling into your apartment despite not receiving any permission.

You sigh as Jimin’s scent wafts past you and shut the door behind him.

“Jimin,” you start until he tuts.

“No no no,” Jimin turns around with a grin. Your eyes drift away from his grinning form and instead settle upon the bags he laid out on the table. “I bear gifts!”

Despite your scoff, you saunter over to your friend with a small smile. “Gifts?”

Jimin excitedly nods, reaching into the bag to take out some pasta from your favorite Italian restaurant.

Your pupils dilate at the magnificent sight. “Chicken Alfredo?”

Jimin rustles through the bag some more, bringing out his own plate of pasta and a slice of cheesecake.

“Cheesecake!?” you nearly scream, back straightening up in joy.

“Pfft,” Jimin breaks out in laughter. Nothing cures a broken heart like good food.

“Mmm,” you nod in satisfaction after a bite of the white cream pasta, licking at the corners of your mouth to get the remaining bits of sauce. Too busy diving into the food, you miss the way Jimin slowly chews on his own noodles with a sweet smile, eyes endearingly gazing at you. He slightly jolts when your eyes open and dart to meet his own, a slightly crazed grin taking over your face.

“Rhis irz sho good!”

The ends of Jimin’s eyes slightly crinkle. “Really?”

You nod, stuffing your mouth with some more pasta, almost in a hurry to finish.

You scrunch your nose, suppressing the urge to sniffle and trying to swallow away that lump in your throat that indicates you’re about to cry.

Jimin thoughtfully circles his fork in his pasta noodles, taking a big bite off his fork.

“You know what happened at work today?” Jimin asks with hopes of lifting up your emotions.

“Hm?”

“The project assistant manager, Karina asked me-” Jimin abruptly stops.

You clear your throat to try to rid of the tightening of your throat, unaware of Jimin’s brain trying to think of a way to somehow switch the topic away from the sudden confession he received after you went home.

“She uh. Asked me how to print her proposal,” Jimin agitatedly slurps his noodles.

Is that the best you can do Park?

Jimin doesn’t realize you aren’t listening.

“Oh really?” you choke out, rushing over to the dishwasher to grab a cup and pour yourself some water.

“Y-Yeah,” he nods, not noticing your reddening nose and instead focusing on stabbing his noodles. “Funny right? It’s been over four months since she started working. She doesn’t know how to print.”

You plop back down into your chair, staring at your plate as Jimin continues rambling.

Your sudden sniffle causes him to stop.

“Hey. . . you should slow down,” Jimin frowns, the way you’re scarfing down your food making him feel uneasy. “You’re going to get indigestion.”

Just as he says that, you choke on a noodle. Hands hurriedly reach around for your water cup and you chug the whole thing down, a breath leaving your mouth.

That’s when Jimin notices your reddened nose and glossy eyes.

You’re crying.

You sniffle again, grabbing your fork and taking a slower bite of your pasta in fear of bursting into full on tears in front of him. This time, a choked sob escapes your throat.

Jimin lowers his plate and hesitantly reaches over.

You let out a cough, making him quickly retract his hand and grab his fork instead.

“Sorry,” you say pathetically. “It’s just so good. I haven’t eaten pasta since…”

Jimin’s lips turn into a grim line as he mentally face palms himself at your prolonged silence and deteriorating composure.

Of course.

Seokjin.

Jimin’s hand immediately reaches over to the Kleenex box and plucks out a few tissues, handing them to you.

You wordlessly take it, blowing out all the mucus that was stuffing your nose and preventing you from breathing. You don’t even have the mental capacity to feel embarrassed when a string of snot briefly connects your nose to the tissue.

“Ah, I’m hungry,” Seokjin slightly whines as he briefly looks out his side of the window in hopes of seeing a fancy, tasty looking cuisine that was probably going to charge more than a hundred dollars for a piece of meat. You suppress a smile at the older’s natural whiny tone that comes out whenever he’s hungry and debate whether or not you should suggest a place.

“I know a really good pasta place,” you suggest with slight hesitance. You weren’t sure if his rich taste buds would match.

Seokjin’s eyes widen. “Pasta?”

You nod, slightly more confident from the eager response. “The texture, the sauce, the service. MMwah,” you cough awkwardly, surprised at how that chef’s kiss just blurted out of your mouth. “It’s actually my childhood restaurant.”

“Then we have to go,” Seokjin states with a grin, silently cooing at your genuine giddiness. You tilt your head at him as Seokjin starts driving towards a curb, slowing down and turning on his car’s GPS.

Was he always this considerate?

“What’s the address?” Seokjin asks, head slightly turning to you when he feels your eyes shooting lasers at him from his peripherals.

Your heart nearly stops from his eyes meeting yours and avert your eyes to your bag. You fiddle around for your phone and quickly start punching in the name of the restaurant.

Seokjin’s lip tilts up to an amused smile, watching as you profusely blush, hands slightly shaking as you type in the address into his GPS.

Before you can catch him, he turns his head towards the window, letting an endearing smile take over his face.

“Kay,” you mumble, making Seokjin compose himself in a nanosecond and start driving off into the streets of Seoul.

You busy yourself nodding to the radio, stealing glances from time to time, admiring how handsome your boyfriend looks when he’s driving. As you turn to look out the window, taking precautions just in case you get caught, Seokjinglances over as well, uncomfortably rubbing at his chest at the foreign feeling of his heartbeat.

You grab another tissue, wiping away your tears. “S-Sorry.”

Jimin shakes his head, merely offering his silent company as comfort. This time, confidence surges through Jimin for him to gingerly place his hand on your shoulder, gently patting it.

“You okay?” he asks, just above a whisper, as you honk your nose one last time.

You offer a smile just as shaky as your breath and nod.

“Pasta must be that good, huh?” Jimin softly jokes, making you snort.

“Yup,” you state almost monotonously. “Moves me to tears.”

Jimin unconsciously ruffles your hair affectionately, making you slightly pause in your actions of crinkling up the used tissues.

Snap out of it, Y/N. You tell yourself. This wasn’t the first time Jimin was comforting you and offering emotional support. You knew Jimin was an affectionate person. You were currently emotionally vulnerable so of course any action would feel like too much.

But that’s when you feel his hand slightly drop to play with your hair then tuck it behind your ear.

This. . . was a first.

You don’t dare to look up, instead grabbing your fork once again to taste some of the cheesecake in an attempt to distract yourself from the onslaught of overthinking.

Jimin urgently removes his hand at your sudden movement, worrying if he had crossed the line of friendship and awkwardly coughs. He hadn’t meant to do that. Sure Jimin engulfed you in hugs, pinched your cheeks, patted your head, multiple times, but he had never done them with such intimacy.

Jimin feels an internal debate of whether he should say something. Maybe an apology? But that would make this whole situation too awkward.

It’s okay, he reassures himself. Friends of ten years can have this much affection right?

As if you could sense the shift in his attitude and feel it growing more and more tense, you clear your throat, turning to face him completely.

Jimin slightly looks up just to meet your guarded gaze, the area around your eyes still a bit pink from your crying.

“Thanks, Jimin,” you smile. “I bet there’s no one else in this world who has a friend bringing them cheesecake at 1 in the morning.”

“Of course!” Jimin forces a bright smile.

He can feel it.

“Yoongi-hyung wouldn’t even think about doing this,” he adds.

You drew the line.

You burst out in a laugh, eyes twinkling in the way they do whenever you find something to be funny and Jimin can’t help but to feel his heart skip a beat.

Oh boy. He was in too deep.

“For sure,” you giggle, pushing away the previous intimate gesture, deeming it to just be a comforting action at how naturally Jimin was acting.

Jimin would never think of me like that, you assure yourself.

“Yoongi would never,” you say poking at part of the cake. “Hm… I bet he’ll drop something off in front of my door or randomly burst in and throw takeout at me, saying it’s leftovers.”

Jimin laughs, nodding in agreement as he gulps down his water like a swig of beer. The past three years after he found out he was in love with you, Jimin had never even let a hint of his feelings show. But now, he felt like he was losing control. Losing control of his feelings and losing his hold on you.

You take another bite of cheesecake, oblivious to Jimin’s jumbled thoughts, and feel a lot lighter as you bring up memories of past hangouts with mutual friends.

That’s all Jimin will ever be, you remind yourself as your mouth rambles on.

Just a friend.

A/N: Hello there! I just checked the last time I uploaded a chapter and IT’S BEEN OVER A YEAR. WOW. Thank you BELOVED READER for being so patient and waiting for this new chapter! It’s a short one but there will be more to come so thank you thank you thank you for always supporting :)

#networkbangtan #btsboulangerie #btsbookclub #bangtanidx #bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #btsguild #mine #bts #seokjin x reader #jimin x reader #seokjin fanfic #jimin fanfic #wow a full year #i cant believe my unproductive lazy butt #i hope you enjoyed this chapter

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 4 years

Text

Hidden in Plain Sight (3)- Tom Holland X Reader

A/N: This story is fun to write, but school is taking over little by little so sorry if this gets delayed more than I mean for it to be! Enjoy Chapter Three!

Word Count: 2165

Warnings: Swearing? Maybe? To be honest I can’t remember if I swore or not but knowing me I probably did. But there is mention of a killer moth so if that’s as trigger as it was when it was flying around my room then I’ll mention it here.

You had the absolute worst day. You were hoping it was going to be a good day since you had put on one of your favorite outfits to wear to work. But as soon as you got to work, everything turned into a shit show. A project you thought was finished didn’t save the last days edits, your boss got on you for something that was your coworker’s responsibility, and someone ate your lunch, which you’re not entirely sure how that happened, but it did. Add to it you have the start of what you think is a migraine, the last thing you want to do is anything work related, but because you’re behind on the project that is due tomorrow, you’ll probably be up all night working on it before going in tomorrow to continue working on it at the office. So heating up some soup to eat while you work, you decide to scroll through Tumblr while you wait for it to heat up.

The news of Spider-Man, and therefore Tom Holland, staying in the MCU still hasn’t died down, which let’s be honest why should it? It’s fantastic news. Out of all the Spider-Mans, Tom’s portrayal of it is your favorite and you would be so sad to see him taken from Marvel just because Sony, Marvel and Disney couldn’t come to an agreement on things. It’s only been a couple days since it was announced, but you wouldn’t be surprised if this was talked about for weeks at least. You reblog a couple of photos, adding some of your usual hashtags. Honestly, you want to be distracted by asks, but you know that the likelihood that people will respond is low, plus you shouldn’t let yourself be distracted by Tumblr when you have the project due tomorrow.

Hating seeing notifications, you click on the second icon from the right on the bottom of your screen. You clear off the notifications from reblogs and likes but notices your app is still showing a notification, on the messages side. It’s probably just from one of your friends. You flip over to the other screen and see a message from none other than Tomholland2013, who you’ve been messaging on and off over the past couple of days, ever since you sent him that edit.

You haven’t been super active on tumblr lately. Everything ok?x

Been super busy at work lol. Big deadlines coming up.

You don’t expect to get a message back since you figured from your messages where he mentioned he was in the early hours of the day while you were only in the late afternoon, that he was probably asleep since you got home later from work than you had planned. So you set your phone aside as you pull the broccoli cheddar soup from the microwave. However, you’re pleasantly surprised to see a message waiting for you when you pick your phone back up to head back to your computer to keep working.

Ah, big deadlines. What kind of work do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?x

Hm, this new tumblr friend of yours is awake even though it’s probably the middle of the night for him?

I don’t mind. I work in graphic design. Isn’t it the middle of the night for you?

It would be if I was at home. I travel a lot for work. I’m currently in New York, so it’s only 9pm.x

But it definitely feels like I should be asleep. I’ve only been in New York for a few days and my mind is still on London time.x

What kind of work do you do?

You set your phone down and boot your computer back up. You know you have shadows to deal with and layers to add back before even getting to the stuff you were meaning to get on today. This project was going to be the death of you.

Tom stares at the message. How does he respond to that? He can’t very well tell you he’s an actor. That blows all of this. He likes being able to be open with you and the moment that it comes out that he is actually Tom Holland, well you might not be open with him. Could he tell you he works in the movie field without having to admit who he is? Could he play it off that he’s still a fanboy, because he will be a marvel fanboy until the day he dies, without blowing this whole thing up? There’s just something about you and being able to connect with someone who has no idea who he is that is different.

Even on your blog today, you shared things from months ago and still reacted like it was your first time seeing them. Your whole blog just radiated positivity, even though your messages sounded like you had a lot on your plate outside of the internet world. He wants to be able to know you without the pressure of having to be, well, him. But you’re not asking him to spill everything about who he is. Just a snip-it.

Film production. Getting ready to head off to a new project actually.x

Must be fun to travel for it. Anywhere fun?

Cleveland actually. Haven’t been there before, so maybe I’ll find something fun to do outside of the project while I’m there.x

Maybe you’ll run into Tom. He’s supposed to be there shooting a project I think. Especially if you’re also in the film industry, you’d already have more of a way into things than say I would lol

I don’t know if I’ll have that much time off to look for him.x

Well if you happen to run into him in said little time off, tell him there’s probably half a million if not more tumblr users willing to marry him, should he be in need of a wife, husband, or nonbianary pal.

Would you happen to be one of those said half a million?x

He shouldn’t have sent it. You have been pretty good about responding, but after sending that message, he hasn’t heard from you in over twenty-four hours and he’s beside himself. You also haven’t posted on your blog. Which makes him think you’re avoiding him on the site all together, which is even worse. The flight to Cleveland, wouldn’t have been half bad if he wasn’t worried the whole time about what you might have been sending while his phone was on airplane mode. And of course the one time he would have paid any amount for on flight wi-fi, it was down and no one could use it.

As soon as the plane lands, he’s flipping the switch to connect his phone again. He needs to see if you’ve messaged back. He’s ignoring all the other notifications that pop up, looking for only on apps notifications. And while you haven’t posted again, you have messaged back. Which makes him suddenly feel like he can breathe again.

I’m not the one who took Tom’s name on here. I feel like you might propose to Tom before I even have a chance to meet him IRL.

I don’t think I’m Tom’s type.X

And what do you think Tom’s type is?

And it takes everything to not just describe you. It wouldn’t be hard. He had spent a lot of time deep diving through your blog. He had looked through your #me tab on your blog. It was filled with everything from selfies to posts about things you had done. And you were the kind of person that he was into. It wasn’t an only physical attraction thing. It was the things that you found important enough to post about. The little things about your day that you shared about. But instead of typing back you, Tom decides to type something different.

I think he would be into someone down to earth. Someone who is into sharing time with friends and family equally and someone who has a great sense of humor. Oh and they would HAVE to love Tessa. That would be a must.x

Wow you’ve thought a lot about this.

Do you disagree?x

Surprisingly no. But I thought you’d say something more… I don’t know physical I guess.

Why’s that?x

I don’t know. I just did.

What do you think he’d be into?x

He can’t help but ask. He wants to know what you think he’s like. There’s enough speculation out there about what he’s like, but for some reason, knowing what you think about him, it means something to him.

I would say, similar to you- family, friends and Tessa would definitely be at the top. Sense of humor would be important. I also feel like with there being so much he can’t talk about to the public, having someone he can trust with stuff would be important. I also think trust would be important so that he has a space he can just be himself too. 🤷‍♀️

Pretty spot on. All of those are important to him. He wants to ask if those things are all important to you, but asking that would come off weird, so he takes a different approach.

Honestly if I wasn’t such a div when I was making accounts I would have just made a Tessa fan blog. I’m a bigger fan of her than of Tom. x

SO TRUE. How can you not be?! She’s the purest thing in this world (sorry to Tom) and every time he shares more of her with us I melt a little.

Paddy had sent him that picture of Tessa this morning, maybe sharing it would brighten everyone’s days. Especially knowing that you were such a fan of her too. Adding the picture to his Instagram story, with a quick caption of missing this sweet girl, he quickly uploads it.

APPARENTLY TOM CAN READ OUR THOUGHTS?!

What do you mean?x

Cute Tessa content just uploaded to his Insta story. Apparently he’s away from her and missing her 😭

She’s just too pure for this world x

I needed that right now.

Something wrong?x

Work project might kill me.

It’s due by the end of the day, but photoshop keeps crashing and I might scream.

I’m sorry love x

I’m restarting my computer for the third time today and it’s not even noon yet.

You know he’s English so the love thing shouldn’t throw you. Plus he’s a boy on the internet. But for some reason, it feels like something more. So instead of saying anything about it, you just keep messaging like nothing happened. A small part of you is hoping that by not mentioning it though, it might happen again.

Tom spends the rest of the day messaging you when he can. He knows you’re working on a project that has a deadline, so he doesn’t expect you to be at his beck and call. But when he gets a notification at almost eleven o’clock at night his time from your blog, he hopes it’s one of your personal posts to make him laugh. He isn’t let down.

THERE WAS A MOTH FLYING AROUND MY ROOM AND NOW I CAN’T FIND IT IM GOING TO DIE. IF IT EATS ME YOU ALL KNOW WHO THE MURDER IS

#me #killer moth #save me #if i die i leave everything to tom

He can’t help but send you an ask about it.

Tomholland2013 asked: You know moths don’t eat people right?x

Y/T/B: You didn’t see how big this one was. This one was definitely of the people eating variety with how big it was. And now it’s hiding in my room waiting for me to close my eyes and then it will sneak up on me, kill me, and devour me whole. 🖕

Tom laughs at your reply before sending another ask. Sure he could do this in your message thread, but he’s betting the asks are helping distract you from the moth.

Tomholland2013 asked: That’s a quiet defensive response from someone who is going to be eaten. If you want me to come save you from a killer moth, maybe be a bit nicer.x

Y/T/B: If you will race over here, find this moth, and release it into the wild so that it can’t kill me in my sleep I will make you as many Tom edits as it takes in gratitude. 👏😘Just come save me please. I swear I can hear him laughing in the distance.

Tomholland2013 asked: If he’s laughing in the distance, I’ll be over to take care of him. No one gets to disrespect my favorite blog and get away with it.x

Y/T/B: Thanks darling. I really, really appreciate it. Now I must be off to hunt this moth, before he hunts me.

Tags: @serendipitous-amor @im-still-tryin-to-find-it @tomfiction4 @im-deeply-shallow

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland fan fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fan fiction #tom holland fanfiction #imanativeofswlondondahling #hidden in plain sight

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