#Dignity is when I will not bend for anyone. I don't care if I make a dollar I'm doin what I'm doin. Then there's times the complex gets too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fullsunalicia · 4 years

Note

i found you by chance, read your entire masterlist in one sitting and i've been smitten with your writing ever since!🥺 may i request a doyoung installment of your demigod series if you don't mind? they're just so lovely🥺 stay safe and healthy❣

archnemesis — KDY

doyoung and you have been at each other’s throat for more years than you can count. the constant bickering and his know-it-all behavior makes you want to burst from anger, but maybe the tension can be released ... otherwise.

son of athena!doyoung x daughter of poseidon!reader

oh bubs! i’m smitten with you too, thank you for being so kind! i hope you stay healthy, too - have you eaten yet? if not, go eat rn! stay healthy and take care of yourself <3 now, enjoy some demigod doyoung!

The stories speak of fated lovers. What they didn’t mention was that you were also able to inherit the hate towards another demigod just because their godly parent is a bitch towards yours.

Though, that isn’t the only reason you despise Kim Doyoung.

The man was born to get on your nerves. No matter what, you guys made it a competition to be better than the other. Grades, reputation,... You name it, you’ve fought about it. All of that is heightened because of that dispute from aeons ago, where Athens fell into Athena’s hands just because she planted some stupid olive tree.

Yes, you and your father are still salty about that.

You are never ever going to like Kim Doyoung.

❀ ❀ ❀

“I hate this university so much,” you cuss as you wrap your bath robe tighter and hide behind Taeyong. He’s not exactly broad enough to cover you, but you’d still like to maintain atleast a little bit of your dignity. You’re already annoyed - the loud alarm blaring doesn’t make it any better.

Taeyong intertwines your hands and pulls you along. The halls are filled with people who are as enraged as you, but also lots of people who are too stoned to care. Some look neutral. Some laugh at you, the girl who was in the middle of showering when the fire alarm went off. “Would you rather burn?” Taeyong sighs, eyes fixed on the exit. Neither of you thought about bringing a jacket, and you both dread the snowy weather that’s waiting outside.

Well, it’s going to be worse for you. Sopping wet from head to toe, you’re leaving behind the path back to your dorm with pools of water. It’s running down your back and clings to your cheeks, frozen there the second Taeyong and you step out.

You’d rather die than look anyone in the eye right now.

The problem is that this university is filled with mortals. No matter how many of them had the sight, you weren’t allowed to use your powers in public. You’re unable to wring yourself out, making you fall victim to the freezing wind blowing iceflowers on your wet skin.

Someone behind you snorts rather loudly. “You should’ve stayed in the dorm, idiot.”

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. The sound is like nails on a chalkboard, or what you imagine would it feel like if you had glass shards stuck in your ear. Doyoung bows over your shoulder to smirk at you, unfazed by your harsh push. He stumbles, but sadly doesn’t fall.

“Aren’t you supposed to be smart, you stupid know-it-all?” you hiss at him. Doyoung is wrapped in a thick coat, protected from the snow falling from the skies as the temperature drops lower and lower. Truth be told, he’s very handsome. You can’t deny that. It’s his personality that ruins it all.

A long time ago, long before you entered college, you and Doyoung had been in the same class in highschool. Your relationship back then had been a little bit better than now, but the hate had taken root there. His arrogance. The glance in his eyes that made you think he was looking down on you.

Doyoung is his mother’s pride and joy, the poster child. The sharp tongue. Emotionless eyes, aside from that slither of smugness. He’s perfect. And that’s what annoys the hell out of you.

He is born to bow before the rules. You live to break them. You aren’t meant to be contained or held down by something as stupid as that. The ocean waves live in your veins and empower you. Free as the flowing water, and just as harsh. The problem with Doyoung and you is that you’re just like your parents. Where he is careful, you are ignorant. Doyoung thinks about his actions, you rush into it headfirst.

Both of you are the spark to set ablaze the other’s fury. It made the lifes of your poor friends a nightmare, especially when you’re drunk and loose-lipped, and the only thing Doyoung has to say about that is: “Just as disappointing as her father.”

Because of that, he ended up with a busted lip once or twice.

“That’s why I told you to stay inside. It would’ve saved you the lung infection you’re about to catch. I suppose your singular braincell can’t get that.”

You don’t react to his jab. It’s too cold for that, and your teeth are chattering too much to deliver a harsh comment anyways. Taeyong beside you is quiet, offering you his arm as you wrap your own around it and roll your eyes. “I would’ve been written up, you asshole,” you mumble. With that, you bury your face in Taeyong’s side. You wish you were in your warm room. Surrounded by the scent of the ocean breeze, and the soft music that’s heard through the walls whenever Taeyong practices. It’s friday, for god’s sake.

Someone drapes a jacket over you. Disoriented, you raise your head to scold Taeyong - he can’t give you his jacket, if he gets sick he’s going to miss his competition... But it’s not Taeyong’s. His eyes are wide and shocked.

You turn back around to check for the annoying smartass, but he’s already walking away from you towards his friends.

Jacketless.

❀ ❀ ❀

You don’t see Doyoung for days after. Normally, you’d be glad to be free of his annoying existence. After that move in the snow, you’re not entirely sure if you never want to see him again, or pin him against a wall to question him.

There was no reason for him to be ... “kind”. If Kim Doyoung is even able to do that. Why would he? He enjoys your suffering as much as you enjoy his. On any other day, he would’ve left you to freeze to death. So what possessed him to do that?

The sound of water crashing on the shore snaps you out of your thoughts. You don’t particularly enjoy skinny dipping, but once in a while, you like to just sit down in the water and listen to the ocean’s stories. The waves whisper, heard only by those who are willing and able to listen. They don’t speak any language of the world, but you still understand them - the sound of the hidden world beneath the waterline, deep in the waters, never to be explored by someone who doesn’t belong there. Both death and life are found in the middle of the ocean’s treasures - corals, sirens, those who’s ships crash against the jagged stone and sink to the ground, never to be seen again. The secret of a naiad. The first cry of a mermaid. Two boats passing in the night.

You hear it all. You know it all. As a princess of the waves, the key to all those locks is in your heart, given to you by your father. The water will always bend to your will. The earth shakes below your feet to support your anger and release it. You are (y/n), daughter of Poseidon. You are as unraveling and uncontrollable as the freshwater rivers, mysterious like the depths of the sea. Your crown is made of salt and sapphire, not metal that will rust.

Being close to your father’s realm makes you calm. It’s like returning home after a long day, the warmth of the water like a blanket around your body. Thankfully, you’re not soaked or drenched. You will never be prisoner of the sea.

You want to know what goes in Doyoung’s head. Rarely is he ever helpful towards you. There was a time in highschool where you had thought you could put your differences aside, but it’s just not possible. Doyoung is married to his pride and his pride alone, cloaking himself in it so nobody gets close. He’s intelligent and cunning. There is no reason for him to tip his hand and aid you, when all he ever does is make life hard for you.

But once in a blue moon, Doyoung’s eyes are as calm as the ocean at night. No bitterness, no snarled arguments. It’s just him, focussed on the task at hand, quiet and in his own world. He reminds you of the mermaids then, who watch over the sea to save the drowning ships. He’s not malicious. He’s just a man with his own goals.

Waiting for you on the shore are your belongings, and a jacket that was never yours. It’s time you return it.

❀ ❀ ❀

Doyoung looks unfazed when you hand him back the jacket. You clear your throat, embarrassed. How the hell do you force yourself to be kind to the rival you’ve been terrorising for several years now? “Uhm, thanks, I guess,” you mumble and turn away to leave.

You’re not ready to throw away all of your habits yet.

The choice is taken out of your hands when Doyoung tugs you back. His grip isn’t firm, just kind of clinical. Touching you only for the sake that you’d know he didn’t want the conversation to end. It makes you uneasy. The two of you aren’t supposed to converse so calmly. At this point, Doyoung should be digging his claws inside of you like an angry cat, hooked deep inside you and leave you to rot. Spark the fighting spirit in you. The part of you that creates destructive hurricanes and deadly whirlpools.

But his eyes are unfathomable. “You’re not sick, are you? We were staying outside for a pretty long time. I didn’t see you get back inside.”

You want to hiss at him - what’s it to you? - but the sound is lodged in your throat. There was no mean undertone, no teasing lilt. Just ... curiosity.

You shake your head. Your voice hadn’t returned yet; you’re waiting for the situation to explode, for the hatred to return to his eyes. Shouldn’t you force his hand away? What is wrong with you?

Doyoung drops his hand. For once in your life, you desperately wish to be able to look into his head. To read that brilliant mind that forges thousands of strategies, aware of every possibility given. No matter how much you dislike him, there’s no point denying the utter intelligence this man possesses. He’s clever, with the consuming wish to know anything and everything. You look into his eyes, but there’s nothing - Doyoung is smart enough not to let anything show. He’s not like you. Still waters run deep.

Doyoung feels like the lowest point of the ocean. All the secrets buried there. The knowledge that would never reach another’s eyes. Mysterious. Dangerous.

Fingertips brush your hand. Maybe you imagined it. You don’t know if believing your senses, is the correct decision to take right now. Doyoung’s eyes shape emotion again, the silent caution of someone who didn’t want to overstep boundaries. But he never does that with you. Why would he now? “Keep to warm drinks,” he says, not an order, but advice. He folds his jacket in his hands. Have his eyes always looked like those of an owl? Or is that just an exaggeration on your part, because his mother is often connected with that animal? “Stretch if you have to. It would be unwise for you to catch a cold during exam season.”

With that, Doyoung steps inside and closes the door, to both you and the unknown world you had just been unwillingly dragged in. The one where children of Athena and Poseidon didn’t jump at each others throat because they breathe the same air.

The one where you feel like you’re in highschool again, wondering if Doyoung and you can be something entirely different than an archnemesis to the other.

❀ ❀ ❀

You’re not childish. You’re really not.

But maybe this situation is just too much temptation. Sprawled across several books, Doyoung rests his head on his arms and is deep in slumber. His black hair is curled, weirdly, a strange sight to behold. It’s not like he’s very stylish. It must be his friends’ influence. He almost looks pretty. You’re not childish, but there’s just something so funny about grabbing a pen and ruining Doyoung’s stunning features.

Your friends roll their eyes at you as you silently step closer to Doyoung. They want nothing to do with your shenanigans, and they’re honestly too tired to stop another brawl. The entire day had been spent studying, since final exams are drawing close and everyone feels like dying from the stress. It seems like not even a child of Athena is excluded from that. Doyoung’s brows are furrowed, even in his sleep. Shoulders tense, his hands forming fists before relaxing again - he doesn’t even let himself rest while he’s off to dreamland. Though this shouldn’t suprise you. Doyoung always flings himself into unreasonable amounts of work, no matter how much his health deteriorates because of that.

Despite hating him, you know a lot about the man who looks more bunny than human. In the many years of rivalry, you picked up a fact or two about him. His memorization skills, for example. You always hated how he was never plagued by blackouts during exams, while you suffered from panic in the few classes you struggled in. He always triumphed over you with a few points just because of that. Another thing is his fear from animals. You once used your powers on him, young and reckless, exceptionally blind to the threat that you could pose to him as a ruler child, daughter of one of the big three in Olympus. He hadn’t flinched from being caged underwater. The second Doyoung sees a large dog though, he’s as far away from the scene as possible.

It’s a very rare occasion, but you’ve also seen Doyoung cry before. In middle school, alone on a bench, surrounded by parents accompanying their children to school. Athena is sworn to chastity. That means that her children aren’t conceived - they’re living, breathing ideas, born in the same strange way their mother was. In the mortal world, they were known as ‘adopted’. And because Athena didn’t give away her virginity to have Doyoung, it means there’s no father in the picture. It’s just him and his big brother. On that day, he had cried because he was fully aware he was alone. You saw it in the way he clutched his books tight; knowledge ties him to his mother, earns him appreciation. No olympian parent would ever be there for their child all of the time. They are gods, bound to the nightsky. They exist to rule over the world and keep the balance. They are the fear instilled in you as tsunamis wreck entire cities. They are the wonder and awe in your eyes at the sight of purple thunderstorms darken blue skies, clawing it open with white lightning. They’re not here to play mommy and daddy.

That day was the only day in your life where you had willingly sat down next to Doyoung and held his hand until he calmed down. You sat there for a long time, clinging to each other, before you promised to never speak to anyone about this ever. Now came the second time where you slid into the seat next to him without being forced.

Doyoung is deep in slumber. Not a single reaction is coaxed out of him as you poke his cheek, and then pinch it. His lashes are really long; the thought fills you with envy. How come every single boy you know has nicer lasher than you?

With a sigh, you put a hand to his shoulder and shake him gently. He’s warm below your touch. Doyoung doesn’t rouse. “Hey,” you say, though it’s not loud. You’re still in a library. Then: “Hey, Doyoung.”

Your idea of drawing on his face is long forgotten when his eyelids finally flutter open. He looks unbelievably tired. Like a zombie, his gaze is dazed as he lets it wander over his surroundings, before finally settling on you. Thankfully, he doesn’t give you the evil side eye. You think he’s too exhausted to actually do that now. You shift in your seat. “When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

The man drowsily reaches for his phone to check the time. Out of instinct, he narrows his eyes because of the bright light, and you fight back a snicker before he can glare at you. “This morning,” he mumbles, sleep lacing his melodious voice.

“Doyoung, it’s 9pm.”

“Your point?”

You sigh. You’d rather not do this right now. But you also can’t will yourself to stand up and leave, when he looks so ... wrecked. You want to help. “C’mon,” you murmur. “Grab your stuff, let’s get you some ramen. My treat.”

Doyoung looks at you like you’ve grown another head. Impatiently, you start drumming your fingers on the table. Is he always this ungrateful?

Nonetheless, he gathers his stuff, and you help him stuff the heavy books into his bagpack. Maybe you’re possessed. Yeah, maybe. That’s the only explanation you can muster for your behavior right now. But that still doesn’t explain why Doyoung had been kind to you after the fire alarm. Perhaps whatever possessed you had possessed him first?

You always knew those water spirits were real. Your father is a damn liar.

Doyoung lets himself be tugged out of the library by you, his body still heavy from the slumberparty he threw for himself while studying. The feeling of his fingers between yours doesn’t feel so bad. So what? You’re holding his hand because you hate him that much.. You’re just treating him like a child because he can’t walk alone, that’s all...

Neither of you let go once.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Are you hiding shit from me?”

Confused, you look out of your room to meet Taeyong’s gaze, who’s only halfway stepped out of his own to address you. A smirk is painted on his beautiful face, rather unusual for someone as kind as Lee Taeyong. You only see that kind of expression on his face when he’s punching someone in the face, or dancing in a competition. Son of Ares and all. That anger is fuel to a whole lot of good things in his life, not only fights. (Though not even Taeyong can resist the urge that was passed on to him by his father. You’ve seen the way his eyes light up when he lands a particularly good uppercut.)

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” You return to your messy room. Exams are finally over, and it looks like a bomb exploded inside your sleeping chambers as you’ve been busy studying in the past few weeks. You never even thought about tidying up because you were so concentrated on cramming a semester’s worth of information inside your head. This degree in marine biology wasn’t going to earn itself. Now, several weeks later, you finally had the time and right headspace to get your room back to its’ usual outlook.

It rustles in the room beside you. Taeyong is rearranging his furniture. “Are you out of your mind, or why are you on good terms with Kim Doyoung? I don’t like seeing you guys get along. It honestly scares me. It feels like there’s some kind of dubious peace treaty going on and it’s going to explode in my face when I get accostumed to it.”

Oh. A pink blush settles on your face as you slam your drawers shut, the embarrassment pooling in your stomach. You’ve never been good at hiding things from your best friend; Taeyong knew you too well. “I don’t know,” you tell him. Something in his room falls over. “I guess we just stopped after he lent me his jacket. Though I must admit it’s getting pretty weird. This is a betrayal to myself.”

“Are you joking? I was tired of getting in the middle of your brawls all the time.”

“Don’t lie!” You throw a book against the wall that borders to Taeyong’s room. He giggles, fully aware that he was caught lying red-handed. “I know how much you enjoyed playfighting with that dumbass. You were only disappointed that it was denying you of a real fight. You damn Ares children and your knack to fuck shit up.”

“Hey, blame it on the genes.” He wanders in your room without knocking. Taeyong isn’t very cuddly, but for once, he’s the one initiating the skinship. He hugs you tightly, thin frame fitting around yours to press you against his body. “I’m glad,” he mumbles, voice wiped clean of its’ joking tone. “Seriously. You’re not your parents. There’s no reason to not get along. If I can do it with him, why can’t you?”

Maybe what you have with Doyoung is a little different to what Taeyong and Doyoung have. But Taeyong doesn’t need to know that. And especially not Doyoung. It’s a wellkept secret that has been blooming inside you since you watched him slurp up some cup ramen, the gratitude in his eyes waking something up in your heart.

After that, he had never once looked down on you. No disrespect. No provoking comments. Only mindless chatter, and the occasional stare you caught the other doing once in a while.

[07:25pm] k. doyoung: meet me at the quad

Taeyong snickers as he reads the message over your shoulder. “So you’ve been hiding something from me,” he accuses you, and you realize that your secret isn’t as wellkept as you thought. You want to argue, but Taeyong shuts you up with a wink and leaves the room. Hmph. You return your attention to your phone.

[07:26pm] (y/n): be there in a minute.

Maybe your room can wait.

The walk from the dorm to the quad isn’t far, maybe a five-minute-walk if you weren’t rushing. It’s a little early in the evening, but still really cold, which is why you wrap your jacket around yourself tighter and pick up speed. Doyoung is waiting for you patiently, hands buried deep into his pockets.

You still have to get accostumed to the sight of him smiling at you. And to holding his arm willingly. And the wish to stand on your tippy toes and kiss him...

“Why’d you call me?”

Doyoung starts walking. Even though you already wrapped your arm around his, he uncoils them so he can interlock your fingers and stuff them into his jacket pocket. “I thought about something,” he drawls out. As always, he cloaks his voice to not expose his true feelings. Another Athena habit. You wonder if he’s even aware of it. “This rivalry thing is getting kinda old, don’t you think?”

“Are you finally admitting defeat?” You grip his fingers tighter. They’re warm in yours, and the laugh you manage to coax out of him makes you feel light. “I knew if I just continued fighting bravely, I’d win. This is for Athens, wise boy.”

Doyoung holds you closer. He seems really undecisive with what he wants to do: despite him already changing the positon of your hands, he lets go to wrap an arm around your waist and pin you against his side. The second he lowers his head to lean his forehead against yours, you feel dizzy. “Never, seaweed brain. I was actually thinking something entirely different...”

You feel breathless. “What exactly?”

“How about I show you?”

Doyoung’s lips feel as soft as they look like; his kiss feels like a caress, so sensual and loving you could do this for hours. Your hands find his hair, tugging slightly to get him closer. You even tug an appreciative, very quiet moan out of him by doing that. When he finally leans way, your lips are swollen, his are forming a grin. He’s awfully smug. Though, you guess he has every right to after making your heart pound as quickly as the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings.

His gaze is self-satisfied, but also full of adoration. Longing. The same gaze he sometimes has after reading a particularly good book. The taste of his favorite cake. Who knew enemies made such good lovers...

“So?” Doyoung cradles your face in his hands, fingers moving to tuck strands of your hair behind your ear. Careful, like you were porcelain. Expensive. Precious to him. “Do you agree with me or what?”

“I think I need to be shown again.”

He doesn’t stop you from getting a second taste.

124 notes · View notes

renee-writer · 4 years

Text

Quarantine Chapter 1 They Meet

A/N In the midst of these strange times and in honor of those working to keep our world moving, this was written. I wanted to document these strange interesting times. Ludiwici is an actual small town in coastal Georgia. I have lived there but certain liberties will be taken. As always, let me know what you think.

She catches his eye as soon as he walks in. The auburn and gold highlights in her brown hair catch the rays of sun in the bench where she sits. She is bend over her tablet and he, raised a gentleman, will not disturb her. Instead he walks up to the counter where he usually sits and gets the attention of the waitress.

“The usual?” She asks.

“Aye.” He senses rather then sees the lass behind him raise her head and turn to him. He turns to confirm and meets a pair of the most extraordinary eyes, the color of the lochs in spring, when the water is clear and as blue as the sky.

“Scottish?” she inquires and his ears pick up her own English accent, mixed with something else.

“Aye. English and..?”

“A mix of everywhere. I had a most unusual childhood. Care to join me lad so we aren’t talking across the room?”

“I would love to.” He gestures to the waitress where he is heading and gets her nod. He takes a seat across from the intriguing lass. “Jamie Fraser.” He puts his hand out.

“Claire Beauchamp.” She takes it. “What brings you to this small southern town?”

“I could ask you the same. I came on an errand for my uncles. They are thinking of buying and restoring the old factory.”

“That is excellent. It is much needed.”

“Tis'. You lass, what brings you here?”

“Pictures. I am a photographer. I am putting together a picture book of small towns.” She turns her tablet around and shows him.

“Very nice. You have really captured the flavor of this town.”

“Thank you. You learn a lot in a week.”

“As I am new here, what have you learned that can help me?”

“From one outsider to another, a tutorial on the old South. It is a buggy not a cart. Tea is always sweet and cold. Grits come from corn and are mixed with butter never sugar. Bless your heart is rarely the compliment it seems and Bless their heart never is.”

The waitress walks up, laughing. She places both their plates before them and says,” You are very good sugar.” Before heading back.

“One other thing, sugar, honey, darling, dear, and the like are just how they talk. It doesn’t mean they are flirting with you.” She adds.

“All good to know. So, how long are you to be here?”

“I leave in a week. What about you?”

“Two weeks. I have been here three days. It isn’t the people, their language or anything like that, that I am having difficulty adapting to. It is the heat. It is so blasted hot here.”

“That is the humidity, sonny boy. It will get worse.” A man, in overalls and a John Deere cap, passing by stops to say.

“Worse?”

“Hell son, it ain't even summer yet.” He is laughing as he exits.

Claire is too. He looks at her and starts laughing also. They both giggle for a few minutes before Jamie asks about her unusual childhood.

“My Uncle Lamb and my parents are all archeologists. I was raised literally from one end of the globe to another. The only continent I've yet to be on is the Antarctic.”

“Wow. And this is my first trip out of Europe.”

“It really must be a huge change then?”

“Aye. So, is your husband or boyfriend with you?”

“Subtle Jamie.” He grins at her with a shrug. “How do you know it isn’t wife or girlfriend?”

“Oh, is it?”

“No. No to all. I am single. You, any lasses or lads pinging for you in Scotland?”

“Nae, and it would be lasses. Single also.”

“It makes it easier, I guess, to travel like I do, unattached.”

“Is that the reason you are?”

“Not entirely. Are you single on purpose?”

“Aye. I've dated but not seriously.”

“Sowing wild oats?” she asks as she turns to her food. He is blushing when she looks up. She finds it adorable.

“Not so much. I've, well you know, just not all around.” He takes a sip of his coffee and a bite of his own breakfast before continuing. “My da taught me that there was a lass out there that is the one my future belongs to. Not to settle down with just anyone. To wait for her. So I do.”

“That is lovely.”

He smiles and they finish eating. The waitress brings out both checks and he reaches for hers.

“Jamie I can..”

“I know. Sorry tis' how I was raised. If you eat with a lass, in a restaurant, you pay.”

“Your dad must be someone special.” She comments as she gives in. “I get next time.”

“He was and next time?”

“I would like to dine with you again, if that is okay. It is nice being around someone from home.”

“It is okay.” Perfect. Spectacular. Wonderful. He thinks as he goes to the register to pay. He returns and looks at her. “When?”

“Well, I can take you out to the old factory, if you haven’t been there yet. Then we can go somewhere for lunch.”

“Sounds good. I actually haven’t. I have been in meetings with the owners and government officials the last few days.”

“Grand. Well, let my show you what your uncles wish to buy.”

They take her car. She promises to bring him back. Truthfully, he doesn’t care if she does or not. He has become more fascinated with her the more they talked. He just wants as much time with her as possible.

The drive out of Ludiwici proper and into the country. They pass old shotgun houses, a ton of farmland, and trailers. Scores of trailers.

“The county seat of Long County Georgia is very poor. If your uncles can revive the factory, they will be doing this area a very real service.”

“Aye.” He watches for a moment before turning back to her. “So, why don't you date? Waiting for Mr. Right?”

“I thought I had him once. He turned out to be Mr. Wrong. Very wrong. I don't put up with cheaters or liar’s. He was both. So, now I just live my life and don't bother with man to much.”

“To much?”

“Well a lady still needs sex occasionally.” He jerks beside her and she glances at him long enough to see his ears are beet red. She giggles. “Come Jamie. As a guy, you know exactly what I mean.”

“It has been a year. Sex is not something I take lightly.” He replies, looking out the window again.

“Wow. Sorry I didn’t mean to make myself out to be a loose woman.”

“You didn’t. Truly. Was just being honest.”

“Anyway. We are here.” She pulls up to what remains of the old tile factory. They will look around and it will give her time to find her composer and dignity. He comes around and opens the door for her, taking her hand to help her out. They both just stare for a moment.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #modern au #outlander fandom #quarantine #they meet

15 notes · View notes

hearteyes-for-killmonger · 5 years

Text

Cheesy little one-shot.

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

"STOP!" Nnena washed her hands watching chaos bounce around the spacious and upscale restroom. "Oh my God.. YOU GUYS.." She dried her hands as the three woman grabbed, tugged, and swung on each other like they weren't in a public establishment where anyone could walk in.

One girl was on the bathroom's floor blocking her face. A second girl had the Marley braiding hair from the first girl's bun in hand while slapping at the third girl who was wielding her stiletto as a weapon. "STOP THIS!... I SAID STOP!!" Nnena barked as her shrewd gaze passed judgmentally over the group of heavy breathing women. "You guys are acting like fools fist fighting each other over some MAN who was playing ALL of you." She'd started to stay in the stall and mind her own business but she'd heard the confrontation and their conversation, the 'who are you' 'the boy is mine' situation intensifying, their fighting words, the sound of a first hit and the following rain of hits where someone was going "bitch, bitch, bitch' after every hit. These were BLACK women going to war with each other over something stupid. Plus she was a waitress and she'd witnessed their man's clownery up close. He was a regular but the faces of his dates always changed. She'd watched him with his women. He always used the same lines every time and they'd swoon and be all over him, never to be seen again. Hearing these women fight amongst themselves like cats, she couldn't take it sitting down so she cleaned herself and she flushed.

Fast forward to the three huffing and puffing women staring at her work uniform and name badge as if she had no right to intervene or speak to them. "Look outside. No seriously, look at his table. He's supposed to be with one of you right now I assume?" She checked her watch. This man ran like clockwork. "Look out there. Really watch him."

They limped and shuffled to the door peaking out, having to move forward a bit more into the restaurant to see him. He was just sitting there waiting for the who'd been on the floor to return to the table. The women were getting impatient but Nnena pointed to another woman at a nearby table who was giving him bedroom eyes. She slid him a card and he turned it over, smiling, before sticking it in his pocket and giving her a wink. He put his hand to his ear like a phone and they didn't need to read lips to know that he'd call her although he was doing a good bit of talking.

"He's already picking up the next girl. He's not thinking about either of you. It's how some men are, only caring about their dick getting wet.. leading you on and making you think he cares just to get what he wants so he can leave and move on? You're a conquest to him! Look at yourselves fighting over a guy who probably doesn't remember either of your names."

Dignity kicked in and the women straightened themselves, avoiding eye contact with each other as they straightened and headed back into the bathroom to fix themselves in the mirror. "He definitely remembers my name, we work together," Slappy said, reapplying her nude lipstick.

"And? I've worked with him too just not through the same company," Stiletto added slipping the shoe back onto her foot. "This is stupid. Keeping up with you two on my man is already irritating and I'm supposed to watch that thot out there too?"

"I didn't even know you two existed. He said he was unattached," Floor girl said unsurely.

Stiletto rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Of course he did," she laughed angrily. "I'm an idiot." Shaking her head she did a double take at the gold ring that sat on a chain dangling from Slappy's neck. "Did he give that to you?" She looked as if she'd been stung.. deeply.

"Yeah, it belonged to his father. He wanted me to have it to prove he was serious," Slappy smiled, smug until Stiletto girl revealed the exact same ring and chain around her neck. Following suit, Floor girl revealed hers from her purse.

The same story and the same necklace had been fed to all three. They stood staring at each other with new eyes.

"I'm gonna kill him," Stilleto whispered, dazed.

"He gotta die for this," Slappy whispered wide-eyed. They were still in shock.

Floor girl finally spoke up, her hair returned to a pristine textured bun. "Erik Stevens... MUST DIE."

"Whoa whoa whoa," Nnena waved in attempt to diffuse the situation. "Murder? That's excessive. Revenge however...."

The women's dark grins showed that the wheels were turning. They looked at each other eye to eye before turning their mutual attention to Nnena who froze wondering what exactly she'd roped herself into.

One Week Later

"When I suggested you guys give him a taste of his own medicine? I didn't mean I was volunteering to help," Nnena mumbled. She was in a sharp bright red dress with a matching blazer and stilettos. Her juiced up bantu knot-out made her long curls hang over the ear where her earpiece hid. The other side of her hair was pinned artfully behind her ear, a diamond stud shining. Stiletto's clothes. The women had dressed her and bugged her with a device which allowed them to hear and see what she did and they were able to speak to her through it. That was twenty minutes ago in Slappy's office. She'd found out then that Stiletto's actual name was Rankita. Floor girl was Rose. Slappy was Vanessa.

"You're in it now and you're getting paid $300 so suck it up and act expensive," Rankita fussed with Vanessa in the background mumbling about Erik being down the hall. Vanessa worked with Erik afterall and Nnena was in their building, now planted in the hall where she was instructed to wait while they all looked on. Act expensive?

"When that door opens, you are smarter and tougher and all around better than him. You say exactly what I tell you and nothing else," Rankita says. "Chin high, don't fidget. Call Rose's phone and pretend to talk on the-"

"The door's opening," Nnena whispers putting the phone to her ear and walking as if she'd just turned down the hall. As if she weren't just standing there dawdling.

"I said I wanted Lashawn on the marketing campaign not Megan. Fix it," Nnena said over the phone line, repeating Rankita's words in her ear. She strutted like she owned the place. She felt Erik's eyes on her and kept walking.

"That boy loves black people in charge so I bet that piqued his interest," Rose giggled.

"Of course it did. How do you think I pulled him," Rankita asked. "Okay now hang up like you irritated."

As Nnena hung up with Rankita still in her ear directing her, she rolled her eyes and finally turned to find Erik staring at her carefully. "Hi, can I help you?"

"I had the same question. This is my office," Erik smiled gesturing to his door. She was standing adjacent to it.

"So it is," she nodded with a glance at the door. Rankita's voice hissed at her to turn around and keep walking. She did and got a few steps away before Erik yelled out.

"Hey," he called, "Um.. who are you here for? If I may ask."

"Dolly Masters!.. Say Dolly Masters!" Rankita was frantic.

"Dolly Masters."

"Oh.. damn, she's not here today. She actually left because she had an emergency.. Sorry you made the trip here, but maybe I could help you? I know a lil something something about what she do," he smiled warmly and if she didn't know he was a womanizer she'd have easily fell into the trap of his dimples and pretty eyes. Fortunately, she knew his game and what he wanted.

Surprisingly he got straight to business and Nnena had to keep up with that Rankita fed her to say, making the pauses seem as natural as possible. She understood only 3/4 of what she was talking about. Rankita was a genius. How could this man screw that up, she wondered. The conversation went on. He started printing shit she didn't really need, estimates. She was feeling awkward. Especially when he kept looking at her with his penetrative gaze. "You have beautiful eyes," he said as if discussing the weather. For some reason Nnena's heart beat harder and faster. "You okay," he inquired with another dazzling grin.

Rankita's voice snapped her from her heated gaze. "I'm excellent, but I do need to head to lunch so this is where I say my goodbyes."

Erik jumped up so fast his pen fell in the floor. "You mind company? Lunch on me."

"No I've imposed on you enough," Nnena stood with an Hermes bag.

"Please.. let me take you out. I WANT to," Erik pressed before grabbing his suit jacket, wallet, and keys.

Vanessa took over the mic from Rankita as the women prepped to beat Nnena and Erik to the next location. "Tell him there's a place nearby called Vudu that you've been aching to try and meet us there."

---

As they ate, Nnena flirted her ass off with double entendres that she pretended not to realize could be taken as sexual. Erik's eyes seemed to never leave her face and body. It made her extremely anxious but she was not allowed to show it. She didn't have the time to show it, Vanessa's orders were so extremely specific. 'Touch your lips.. Touch your hair.. Blink at him.. Smile.. not too much! Talk sexier. Smize. Lick your lips. Bend over.' On and on, these directions went. She felt like a porn star.

"Look at him. He wants to tear you apart like a wildcat right now, I know that look. He wants you bad. You've got him in your hand now bring it home. Accidentally call him daddy," Vanessa said.

Nnena's eyes went big before she controlled her face. "You okay, Nnena," Erik asked, eyes so focused on her she wondered if he could see through her.

"Yeah," she coughed pretending to be strangled by her drink. He bought it.

"You sure," he stood and moved beside her in her side of the booth to pat her back.

"Yes daddy.. I mean ERIK," she rushed avoiding his eye as his hand on her back froze. When she looked up, his eyes had darkened. That word stirred something in him and Nnena felt herself getting hot. Her thighs pressed together and she slid away. He slid closer, putting his hand in her lap.

"I can BE daddy," he whispered causing her to shiver.

"Control yourself," Vanessa hissed. Nnena moved Erik's hand and pushed him from her booth gesturing for him to return to his. Based on his expression, that was only the beginning. He knew what he wanted and was hellbent on getting it. "Make him take you out a few more times. Wait until you get the necklace!"

Two Months Later

There was a second date, a third, fifth, eighth, sixteenth. Nnena was making bank from the girls and Erik was basically up her ass meanwhile she'd only kissed him three times. He always wanted more, but she never gave it. For one, the girls would kill her. For two, if she even kissed him for too long her brain got foggy. She understood exactly how all of the women before her got caught up.

"You know I haven't seen him approach any women since we've been doing this? He's gotta be the biggest whore I've ever met based on my research into him and suddenly he's celibate?" Rankita shook her head in disbelief.

"I can't believe it's been two months. He was with me for two weeks," Vanessa added.

"Same," Rankita nodded.

"One week," Rose said shyly. Her time had been cut short. Erik had never called her back after she didn't return to the dinner table at the restaurant. She was lowkey crushed.

"Take him to the butterfly museum," Rose recovered enough to say. The entire group was in Florida just because they could be. It was a quick little vacay and Nnena enjoyed her free trip as she pretended to be a wealthy woman taking her wealthy man on a day date. Erik was all smiles.

"How'd you know I like butterflies," Erik whispered, awed. Vanessa and Rankita looked to Rose whose eyes were watery.

"I loved him," she whimpered, tears falling in explanation of how she knew this about him. Vanessa and Rankita both comforted her while Nnena walked with Erik enjoying the date. At this point Rose was unable to speak so Nnena was left to be herself and AS herself, she had a ball.. surrounded by butterflies and Erik.

---

"Nnena," Erik spoke gently pulling out a jewelry box. It looked like it could be a necklace. They were on a day cruise now that Erik took her on after the museum and he was mildly tipsy. All day he'd been grinning and laughing and trying to pick her up. He was adorable and every time Nnena caught herself just as happy as him.. she had to check herself and remember that it wasn't real.. which was hard... because it felt so real. "Nnena, we been seeing each other for two months and I never been with anyone like this. I ain't never had nobody make me this happy. You are perfect for me. I never thought love existed until I met you." Her ears perked at the word 'love' as did the three women's. He'd never, ever, EVER used that word flat out before. "I've done a lot of shit in my past and hurt a lot of people. I don't deserve you honestly, I don't. But if you'll stick around, I promise I'll never hurt you."

He opened the jewelry box and there was a golden necklace but it had no ring. The chain was different. At the end of it was a diamond pendant in a heart shape. He told no sad story. Nnena was shook. The three women were shook.

"Do it now. Dump him!! Tell him you're not interested in him," Vanessa urged. Nnena's heart wanted to break. She didn't want to, but she shut off her emotions. The three women approached and stood behind Erik with their arms crossed.

"Awe, fell in love did we," Rankita teased sitting by Nnena to stare at Erik with an evil smile. The surprise on his face was everything to her. He truly didn't understand.

Vanessa stood before Erik with a wave of her fingers. "Too bad she played you. And you know what? You deserved it! I hope you feel all of what you made us feel. You ruined our damned lives and I for one am sick of you. I hope you DO cry," she grinned, highly amused. Erik's eyes went to Nnena's sad eyes. He didn't want to believe it.

"...Is this true," he asked and Nnena could hear his heart shatter. She nodded, unable to speak.

Rose approached, also somber. "You would have never learned your lesson or how much what you do hurts if we hadn't done this. You'd still be leaving trails of damaged women. Nnena is an actor. We had to show you what it feels like. Maybe this will be your wake up call.."

Tears rolled down Erik's face and he stood. For a moment he was wordless, just staring at the water with nowhere to truly escape. Rankita grinned watching his pain, taking a sip of Nnena's drink. "You're right," he finally said bringing confusion to the women. "You're absolutely right... I had no idea how much I was hurting you all... I knew I was an asshole who hurt people.. but I never knew it could hurt this bad..." He held his gut as if he were in pain. Like he'd been stabbed or shot.

"Damn," he whispered shakily. Suddenly Rankita's grin faltered. She'd wanted him to get mad. Jump, yell, cuss, rave! Somehow, this wasn't as fun to watch. He was truly broken.

"I'm truly sorry," he said again looking Rankita in the eye. She nodded, genuinely accepting his apology and he looked at Vanessa.. apologizing from his heart. She wasn't smiling anymore either. Rose was the one he had to really apologize to. Her feelings matched his the most. He apologized to her from his soul and she sniffed, her own tears running as she forgave him.

Nnena wanted to rip her own heart from her chest. She tried to return to Erik the necklace, but he shook his head folding it in her palm. "Keep it," he nodded. He couldn't even look at her. He walked away disappearing and no one went after him. Getting off the boat, no one saw him exit.

They were suddenly worried about him and what he might do to himself. He'd fallen pretty hard for Nnena just to have his heart smashed suddenly. Nnena called but he didn't answer. There was nothing they could do now.

One Week Later

Nnena went back to her job with the three women consistently checking in with her. Erik had not returned to work and Vanessa was worried. He was a workaholic and this wasn't like him. Nnena tried his number again, fear making her think the worse. No pick-up. She blocked her number and tried. Nothing. She left messages and voicemails. Still nothing.

Days passed and then weeks.

No one had heard from him. Nnena regretted ever getting involved with that revenge scheme. Broken hearts could be moved on from, but suicide was permanent. She couldn't help but blame herself and the worst part was that she genuinely liked him. She liked him!!! She couldn't get over it. It ate at her.

Regret.

Days would go by and she'd be in a haze, dazed out while working on autopilot taking customer's orders with an empty smile. She didn't even notice the customer she spoke to on a particular day as he stared at her after she'd taken his order. She was looking dead at him, but didn't see until he said her name and suddenly she focused. He'd cut his hair. His locs were gone, but those dimples were the same. "Hey," he smiled hesitantly.

"WHERE WERE YOU," Nnena snapped angrily. He licked his lips, tapping the table.

"Therapy," he said simply, "...in Africa."

She looked him over. He looked well and she was grateful. She was relieved. Very relieved. She realized she'd never told him she was a waitress. As far as he was concerned, she was rich. "How did you find me," she squinted.

"Rankita," he stated with even eye contact. Before Nnena could get angry, he continued. "I stopped to talk to her, Vanessa, and Rose before coming here." Nnena nodded, understanding. He was letting them know one by one that he was okay.

She gave a small smile, "I'm glad you're alive... I'll- I'll put your order in."

She turned and he grabbed her wrist, gently, causing her to turn back to him. "There IS something else," he blinked, "I know it was a revenge plan and you were playing me and all that. I deserved it. But I never felt anything like that before. I was hoping maybe we could start over? That is if you're willing to trust me.."

Start over? Nnena had to think about it. It was a unique situation. That answer seemed to satisfy him. She went to the kitchen to put in his food order and she made a call to Vanessa.

"Which one of you psycho bitches told Erik I had feelings?"

"That would be me," Vanessa sang. "Well it's true isn't it? We're not dumb and we're not so cruel as to deter you if that's what you wanna do. We just hope he's really changed. It seems like he has."

Nnena peeped onto the floor to see Erik fiddling in the booth. "Is it- Is it really okay? I understand if it's-"

"Go for it," Vanessa said hanging up.

With a big sigh, Nnena walked slowly back to Erik's booth. He looked up and she nodded, extending her hand.

"Hi... My name is Nnena. Nnena Odigwe. I work here and... I'm not rich nor do I own a business. You are?"

"Hello, Nnena. You have beautiful eyes." He smiled when she rolled her eyes. "My name is Erik Stevens."

"Erik Stevens," Nnena smiled, "It's nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine."

@muse-of-mbaku @imaginewhoever @whoramilaje @panthergoddessbast @thadelightfulone @misspooh @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @marvelpotterlove @youreadthatright @forbeautyandlife @theunsweetenedtruth @bidibidibombaclaat @myboyfriendgiriboy @dameshaemonique @blackpantherimagines @vikkidc @hidden-treasures21 @mysidefanting @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @syndrlla97 @winteroflife @thotyana-in-this-hoe @texasbama @gingerylimonte @princessstevens @magic-madness-heavensin @wawakanda-btch @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @wakanda-inspired @blackgirloneshots @thegucciwaffle @thiccdaddy-mbaku @ledouxange7 @drsunshine97 @purplehairgawdess @trevantesbrat @indigoxsummers @cccccx1 @dynastylnoire @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @fonville-designs @they-call-me-le @theblulife @raysunshine78 @sheisexcellent

#erik killmonger #original #erik stevens #killmonger #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik killmonger imagines #erik stevens au #erik killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction

142 notes · View notes

littlegoldenbirdie · 3 years

Text

A Second Chance: Part 8

Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!

Now it's Ugin's turn to have a hard time. Bolas has given him much grief over the course of his life, but not like this. Not like this...

Okay, if you thought Part 5 was long...

When Ugin next spread his wings, the group found themselves atop a gray mountain, staring at that same blood trail again. This time it led down into a long, winding valley. Already they could hear the winds howling from the valley's depths. Bending down, Ajani sniffed the blood. "I can follow this trail too, but it'll be quite a trek! This valley stretches farther than I can even see!" Nissa stepped closer to the trailhead. "The elementals of this land speak of tearing winds ahead, and narrow, difficult roads... if we can find our way!"

Ugin twitched violently. "Oh, I know the way to the Crucible. Nexus. Whatever they're calling it now, or whatever they've made it into." His voice was an utterly alien-sounding snarl of, of all things, impatience as he dropped down to the ground, flat on his belly in the dirt. One feathered wing drooped down, forming a ramp. "Climb aboard. ...Yes, I mean get on my back and ride me like a giant horse. At this point, I don't care about dignity or anything. If this is what it takes to get there quickly, I'll do it!" Utterly flabbergasted, Jace was the first one to climb up the offered wing, hands trembling as he tried to avoid pulling too hard on the Spirit Dragon's feathers. "Oh, don't be such a coward. You think a little feather pull means anything to somebody as old as I am? Now climb or I'll... Don't make me finish that threat. Just get up there." Jaya and Ajani followed, their movements rougher than Jace's. Ugin didn't even wince. Nissa hesitated, and her hesitation led to her being grabbed like a doll and roughly deposited alongside the others. Looking over his shoulder, Ugin warned them to hold on tight to his back, neck, shoulders, feathers... whatever they could get their hands on and cling to. The next words he spoke weren't really for anyone to hear. "Just hold on, Nicol, I'm coming. I won't lose you again, brother... I won't!" A short moment later he was in motion, lunging forward to climb down into the ravine like a huge spider.

Jace had to admit they were moving a lot faster than they would otherwise. Each of Ugin's crawling steps was the size of ten of any of theirs. They could all feel him panting roughly as he pushed himself as hard as he could manage and found that even ancient dragons had their limits. Digging clawed hands and feet into any crag or purchase they could find, Ajani could smell the Spirit Dragon's blood as scrapes and gouges built up one by one and were summarily ignored. "Get down low against my back," he warned as he did the exact opposite, holding his head high in the hope that the gusting winds would break on his face instead of buffeting his passengers. Even he had to squint against the roaring gale, but that didn't stop him, or even slow him down. He could see well enough for his purposes. Pain and fatigue nagged at him, but he ignored them. He wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop. His brother needed him.

Eventually the dark chasm loomed before him, before them, and he finally stopped his relentless press forward, letting his passengers down and trying to catch his breath as fast as he could. Jaya was the first to step forward and speak. "Here, then?" Ajani nodded. "Yes, this is the other end of the blood trail. And, well, you're the fire mage. Show us what they showed our little friend, if the sight is still here!" Not another word escaped the woman as she conjured a bright flame... and illuminated the blue-green skeleton that should never have seen the light of day. "...Wow, it's your skeleton. Well, that's something nobody should ever have to see," Jace said to Ugin, who stared wordlessly. "This may sound dumb coming from a mere mortal, but... I'm sorry you have to see this, Ugin." No response came; not even a twitch. Jaya stepped closer and gave a low whistle. "Look, you can even see the remains of the fatal blow. Yup, no mistaking claw marks like those... or their maker." It was then that the Spirit Dragon stirred. "Where..." His voice was just a whisper as he tried to recover from his physical exhaustion. "Where is my brother?"

Ajani shook his head. "The trail... the trail ends here..." He was at a loss, before Nissa stepped up. "There was magic here... Two people planeswalked away voluntarily, and I sense an uncontrolled planeswalk... an ignition! Nicol's spark has awakened!" Jace stepped away from Ugin, closer to the two. "And there's no way to know where an ignition will take somebody. There's... there's no way to track him! He could end up anywhere!" Something about the scent distracted Ajani, at least until he could identify it. "The blood... I smell infection in the blood. The kind that comes on quickly... and kills just as quickly. Somebody has to find Nicol fast, even if it's not us!"

What remained of the Spirit Dragon's composure, which had been quietly fraying further and further throughout the whole ordeal, chose that moment to break completely. Surging back to his feet despite total exhaustion of both body and mind, he screamed into the dark... "Nicol! Nicol, where are you? Nicol!" The last words left his throat as he fell to his knees in an utter collapse, burying his face in his hands as well as the dirt. "No, no, please, no, I can't have lost my brother again, I just can't..." The rest of the Gatewatch just stood and looked on awkwardly, unsure of how to comfort one so ancient.

Nissa spoke up sharply. "I sense a message on the winds... but not these winds. Could somebody dissipate that illusion? I need to see what's really there if I'm to hear it properly!" The broken Spirit Dragon stirred listlessly, swiping the illusion away to reveal... "A hedron array? Here?" Nissa stared in awe. "I thought those were only on Zendikar! And it..." Her face contorted in confusion. "It sings of its sisters far away. It says... 'He who struck down the one who rested here now weeps on an altar where three misled souls brought forth the unseen flame to wake what should have stayed forgotten'..." Jace recognized what she was talking about. After all, he had taken part in it. "I was one of those three. Remember Chandra Nalaar? I met her and that Sarkhan Vol guy at the Eye of Ugin on Zendikar, and I talked her into trying Ghostfire to beat him! All three of us got knocked out by that, and ended up releasing the three Eldrazi Titans. If the hedrons are connected across planes, which I wouldn't put past such things, they're telling us where Nicol is right now." The words roused Ugin from his mental collapse and he stirred, slowly getting back up, more tired than anyone had seen him, not just those present but the untold multitudes his eons-long life had touched. Jace turned to him and smiled. "One last planeswalk and we'll find him. That's what the hedrons are saying, Ugin. To Zendikar, to the Eye. You don't have to carry us this time; we know where to go and we would carry you if we could. Follow our trail if you need to." The others, Ajani, Nissa, Jaya, moved closer to lay their hands on the Spirit Dragon's exhausted body, grasping a wing, leaning against a hip, embracing a horn... "C'mon, Jace! You said yourself that he needs a hand..." Stepping up, he laid his face against Ugin's flank in the manner one would lean up against a dear friend. "On the count of three, all right, everyone? The Eye, on Zendikar." Affirmations came from all parties, Ugin included. Counting down in perfect unison, they planeswalked away.

-----

Fuck, that was a long one! Poor Ugin...

#nicol bolas #ugin #ugin the spirit dragon #mtg #magic the gathering #war of the spark #mtg tumblr #mtg fan fiction #mtg fanfic

2 notes · View notes