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muyurei · 3 years

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Cultural Relics Are Not To Be Messed With – Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Guanghe Underworld Criminal Organization

sorry for the slow pace of translations 🙇‍♀️ here’s chapter two!

There is a high chance that Dong Mingbo’s already heard of the demon knife Qi Chen had spoken about, probably because despite being the middle-aged man he is, his heart is yet to be diminished and is still full of desire for thrill and vitality, so he looked for and then collected a knife that looked demonic enough in itself and even named it as such. Besides this possibility, this knife could have also been commissioned with the purpose of replicating Long Ya, or the Dragon Tooth knife, and in the need to make it look as realistic as possible, it was also broken and made to look as though it was the real deal with how it’s being restored.

Of course, it wasn’t as though Qi Chen was silly enough to go ahead and ask these questions, so he left his inner thoughts alone and went out of the office, not forgetting to heed to Dong Mingbo’s request of closing the door. He then went downstairs and returned to his workshop.

Guanghe Company’s number of employees was very limited in number. In the two days Qi Chen has spent working here, he’s only seen around a dozen to twenty people, most of them gathered in the large, open office room located on the second floor of Building A. On one side of the office, there were floor-to-ceiling windows that gave the room a lot of light. There were even potted plants arranged near them in an organized manner. Up ahead, there was a semi-open office room only separated from the outside by a translucent glass door, only a little smaller in size. This was the place where the leaders of each team and department in the office stayed in, in which around seven or eight office tables were placed inside.

When Qi Chen came to report in the first say he went here, it was very fortunate for him that the tables in that office were labeled with name plates indicating who occupied that spot, making it easier to navigate around, all of which were likely put up by the respective owners of those office tables. However, there was one unoccupied table among those. It was empty, and it didn’t have a name plate.

Conveniently, at that moment, there was a girl who was a member of the company’s human resources personnel. She pointed at the empty table and told him: “Originally, this was supposed to be where the deputy leader of the executive team sits, but he had been heavily injured the last time he was out on a business trip. He’s been stuck in a comatose for about two or three years now, so the table was emptied and the computer was restarted. It’s very much alright to occupy the table now, though, so don’t worry too much about anything regarding transferring to a new work place.”

Qi Chen: “...Wait just a moment! What do you mean by ‘heavily injured on a business trip and was rendered comatose for two to three years’? What exactly...?”

The girl thought about it for a moment, then replied: “You call it... vegetative state, was it? The word’s vegetative, right? Ah, whatever. He just doesn’t respond or move anymore, like this–” She then rolled her eyes back and tilted her head, showing him an expression of someone who had hemiplegia for a few seconds.

Qi Chen: “...”

“You get that?” The girl returned to her normal appearance. She patted Qi Chen’s shoulder and then added: “That’s not the main point I have here, though. Honestly speaking, you seem all delicate skin and tender flesh there, so I’d kindly like to remind you of something... do you see that desk behind you?”

Qi Chen really wanted to know how the quiet-looking, small-staff girl managed to speak with the atmosphere like that of a White-Bone Demon*, but he pushed this thought down and turned behind him to look at the desk as she told him to. He was greeted with the sight of a frosted acrylic name plate attached to the desk – Executive Team Leader • Long.

(*t/n: white-bone demon, a character from journey to the west. see: https://villains.fandom.com/wiki/Baigujing. in modern business terms though, it refers to women in powerful positions. think of it as though hr girl is speaking with the voice of someone who you’d expect would be the ceo of the place)

“...Ah, a code name?” His mouth twitched as he looked at the single Chinese character that literally meant ‘dragon’.

HR girl shook her head. “No, he really is surnamed Long.”

In the company, workers often had name plates on their desks, usually containing their position, the team or section that they work in, and their full name for easy and convenient identification. For instance, this table in front of Qi Chen had a name plate with Supervisory Team Leader • Hu Yi engraved on it, just like how the usual pattern of name plates in the company go. This person, however, only had their surname engraved on their name plate, which was rather unusual, but other than that, there didn’t seem to be anything else on the desk that seemed strange. Because of this, Qi Chen wondered: Is there something wrong with this team leader?

It was lunchtime, which meant there weren’t any people in the office, so the HR girl didn’t hold back at all in her talking. She pinched her thumb and index finger together, leaving just a little bit of space between them, and said: “Executive Team Leader Long has a... slightly bad temper, so to say. Don’t try to make any mistakes that might provoke him, alright?”

However, despite two days having passed since he first worked here, Qi Chen was unable to see this slightly bad-tempered executive team leader. It was said that he had gone on a business trip, and his return date hasn’t been determined yet. Qi Chen didn’t take the warning too seriously – the executive team and the logistics team are, after all, different from each other. He’ll just have to be careful when it comes to interacting with other teams, especially with their leaders.

He recorded today’s work – the restoration of the Dragon Tooth knife earlier in the morning – into the work log, then looked at the time, only to see that it was time for lunch. Qi Chen had just clicked save when he felt as though the computer screen suddenly bugged out, and a quick, blinding glare from outside the window flashed before his eyes. He blinked, then turned his head to look at the glass of water on the table. It was half-full, and the water inside of it seemed to be shaking, though it wasn’t very obvious unless it was looked at closely. Soon, it stopped, returning back to normal.

“Earthquake...?” Qi Chen muttered below his breath. He couldn’t help but look up – he felt as though there was some slight movement coming from upstairs just now.

Regardless of whether it was an earthquake or something that was being heavily moved upstairs, it had gone by in the blink of an eye. Qi Chen glanced at the ceiling for a second time and then withdrew his gaze, not thinking much of it.

The people in the company was very precise with their mealtimes – they were never too early or too late when it comes to coming and going about with their food. Naturally, Qi Chen always felt that eating was a delight, so after cleaning up his work table, he took out his phone and his wallet, and then he walked out. Behind him, a small, thin, dark-skinned man also proceeded to walk out, looking down at his phone at the same time.

Because of this, the following events happened:

As they walked out of the building, Qi Chen saw a tall figure emerging from the side, who was just about to enter through the door. Before they could accidentally bump into each other, Qi Chen and the tall man were able to stop walking for a moment.

Qi Chen was secretly celebrating in his heart that he managed to avoid an ‘accident gone bad’ when the man who was fiddling with his phone behind him suddenly ran into Qi Chen.

Thump! Qi Chen was then knocked forward and his forehead hit the tall man’s chin.

Qi Chen: “...”

The man hissed and took a step back, holding his jaw in his hand. “Do you even know how to walk?! Just going around with your eyes closed, aren’t you?”

“Sorry.” Qi Chen rubbed his forehead, thinking to himself, I really did just get shot while I was lying down, didn’t I.

(t/n: to get shot at while lying down = to get berated/scolded despite having done nothing on purpose)

He stepped aside to move out of the man’s way, and only then did he notice that the man was holding a cup of coffee in his other hand. However, he probably had to dispose of it soon, considering that the coffee had splashed out just a bit. Not on Qi Chen’s body, though – on the man’s hand, and his iron gray trousers.

“Lao, Lao, Lao– Boss?! Why are you here?!” The little dark-skinned man poked out his head from behind Qi Chen. Seeing the person who they had bumped into, he couldn’t help but stutter and call out weakly, only to end up shrinking back behind Qi Chen.

Qi Chen, who had somehow became a human-shaped shield: “...”

The man was wearing a light gray dress shirt, very akin to the color of smoke, and it looked as though it had been carefully tailored to fit his body – broad-shouldered and long-legged, tall and lean; it made him look very respectable and serious*. If he didn’t have that annoyed expression on his face, he would’ve definitely left an excellent impression on Qi Chen, 100% at that. He couldn’t see the man who was cowering behind Qi Chen, so Qi Chen had to bear the brunt of his scowl. “Am I not allowed here? Would you rather that I’m not?”

(t/n: literally, he looked like a dog. someone who looks upright and dignified but actually has an unpleasant attitude)

The little man paused and thought back to what he said. After thinking about it, he felt as though he really did just sound rather rude earlier, so he poked his head out from behind Qi Chen again and said, “Boss, why come back just now! We missed you to death!”

Qi Chen: “...” What an ever-loyal dog!

(t/n: literally, what a big dog leg. refers to disciples who’d follow their masters around. may or may not be a reference to the “looked like a dog” part in the previous sentences)

However, the man ignored the little man’s buttery words. Instead, he turned to Qi Chen and sized him up with a disdainful expression on his face. He muttered a few words, though because his voice was too low and quiet, Qi Chen only caught wind of the word ‘knife’ and nothing else.

“Ah, by the way boss, just earlier, my head was lowered down because I was scrolling through Weibo... I wasn’t able to see where I was going, so I knocked into him, which resulted to the two of you bumping into each other...” The little man’s voice kept getting quieter and quieter, and while it was evident he was scared, he didn’t forget to clear Qi Chen’s name to his boss.

Qi Chen didn’t mind too much, in all honesty, but he felt around his pockets for a pack of tissues, took one out and handed it to the man: “I’ll get you another cup. Please wipe your hands.”

“No need!” Despite his temperament, the man has profoundly handsome features, and was born with good and smooth skin. At this moment, though, he had a deep frown on his face, looking as though everyone around him owed him eight million in cash, and his voice was full of impatience. He didn’t even glare at the real cause of their accident – he continued to look menacingly at Qi Chen, turning over the sleeves of his light gray dress shirt over his wrists twice so the coffee doesn’t seep into the fabric, and he ignored the tissue in Qi Chen’s hand. He passed by Qi Chen’s outstretched arm, taking a long step forward, and continued to walk to the office room meant for the team and department leaders in the company. Before he left, though, he snorted coldly and said: “Is your head made of granite?”

Qi Chen: “...”

How come he’s the only one here getting blown up by this person’s gunpowder?!

(t/n: gunpowder = anger, annoyance, like how ‘exploding in anger’ goes.)

Qi Chen turned his head and saw that the real-life powder keg had already strode in to the small office room, walking straight to the desk that Qi Chen had stood in front of not too long ago, and put down his coffee cup on the table...

This was obviously the company’s legendary “slightly bad-tempered” Executive Team Leader Long.

Slightly... bad-tempered...

Haha.

Qi Chen looked away, putting the tissue paper he took out earlier into the little man’s hand. “Let’s just go eat now.”

The little man froze for a moment, and up and about he went, trailing after Qi Chen.

“Qi Chen?” The little man looked at the ID that Qi Chen had on him, and then warmly said, “Eh? Xiao Chen, I’m so sorry... I really was just fiddling around with my phone and didn’t look at where I was going... I ended up even getting you disciplined... Because of this, let me treat you to lunch to make up for it! What do you want to eat? Do you want to go to the underground–“

“Underground what?” Qi Chen wasn’t very familiar with this particular area in the business district, so he didn’t know where the nice places to eat in were. However, he does remember that just beyond the traffic light by the company’s gate, there was an underground shopping mall nearby. He thought that that was what the little man had been telling him about, so he nodded and said: “Alright, let’s eat there. I don’t really know my way around here just yet, so I’ll just go with whatever you recommend. Though, it’s really not necessary to treat me. I won’t break or lose anything just by getting scolded by Executive Team Leader Long, so don’t worry about it.”

“About the executive team leader... he sure does have quite the temper, but most of those in business are like that, you know. It’s normal to find someone here who’s that fierce, and it’s not an understatement to say that we’re all pretty afraid of them. I mean, even Supervisory Team Leader Hu doesn’t look very approachable, always standing there with that menacing face... it’s scary. It does make sense, though, given his position in the supervision team.” He followed Qi Chen, telling him the things he knew while gesturing around. “And Ming-jie, you don’t just get to talk to her whenever you want. Most of the time, she gives everyone that glare overflowing with a k*ller’s aura. If the person on the receiving end isn’t used to it, they might just piss their pants out of fear.”

(t/n: jie, literally, sister. sister ming. used to address girls who are older than you.)

Qi Chen: “...”

He walked out of the company area and looked back at the building’s sign with confusion. He asked the little man: “I still know how to read, right?”

The little man: “...”

Qi Chen: “You were talking about the people working in Guanghe Cultural Heritage Conservation Co., Ltd., right?”

The little man: “...”

Qi Chen: “For a moment, I really thought we worked at Guanghe Underworld Criminal Organization.”

The little man: “Sh... Is something not right?”

Qi Chen nodded. “I don’t think anything here is right.”

The little man: “...”

Qi Chen continued to walk towards the underground shopping mall near the traffic light with a solemn expression on his face. The little man immediately caught up to him in two steps, slapping Qi Chen’s back and said: “Wait a moment!”

F*ck! Can a human being even be this strong?!

Qi Chen, who had been ‘patted’ on the back, almost vomited out his kidneys. He looked back at the other man dejectedly and asked: “What?”

The little man replied, “Why are we stepping out of the company?”

“Aren’t we going to the underground mall to eat?” Qi Chen looked puzzled.

The little man took a look at the entrance to the underground mall near them and suddenly remembered that there was indeed a food court inside. “Ah! So you want to eat human food today?”

Qi Chen: “...” What are you even saying!

“Then... what was that underground thing you mentioned earlier?” Qi Chen asked exasperatedly.

The little man turned his head and pointed at the company building. “There’s a cafeteria in the basement floor of our building. You can enter just by swiping your ID.”

“...” The corners of Qi Chen’s mouth twitched. “Do you... usually eat non-human food?”

The little man’s face brightened. “Yes!”

Qi Chen decisively crossed the road. “...No thank you. I think I’ll pass on the company cafeteria for now...”

The little man stood on one side of the road and looked at Qi Chen’s back, muttering to himself: “There’s something wrong here...”

He followed the rope tied to his ID while crossing the road and caught up to Qi Chen in three steps.

The midday sun reflected on the glass windows of the high-rise buildings, the light felt more of a glare to the eyes, blinding anyone who looks. Behind him, there was a heavy traffic, and pedestrians bustled in a stream. When Qi Chen was about to step on the escalator to go to the underground mall, he heard the little man behind him mumble something, and asked him: “Xiao Chen, you wouldn’t happen to be human, would y–“

“AH–!”

Someone let out a shrill shriek not too far from behind them, interrupting the little man’s words. They were both startled, stopping in their tracks and looking back at the commotion. A crowd had formed by the road. Qi Chen didn’t know what happened, only that nothing happened in the road just then. He could vaguely hear a woman crying out loud, and the onlookers let out worried noises.

“I’m not... I... I don’t know how I...”

The words were said rather irregularly in broken stutters, until it didn’t even sound coherent at all.

The author has something to say:

Little theater: Qi Chen: The moment I met you, it felt like eating ☐☐ do you have a grudge against me →_→ Long Ya: You literally filed me all over! Qi Chen: Obviously I had to, it’s not on purpose, but glaring at me and only me, aren’t you afraid that your eyes might fall out →_→ Long Ya: You actually used something so ordinary and stupid as a metal file on me! Qi Chen: File and weld gently my &ss! Long Ya: Now that you’ve mentioned it, you actually f*cking welded me with a welding gun too! Qi Chen: No way to talk properly now [bye bye (t/n: literally, 【手动拜拜. refers to the bye bye hand emoticon on weibo and qq that moves)

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(As of 04/13/21: Edited.)

#cultural relics are not to be messed with #danmei

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chemiste · 4 years

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Foresight ~ ch. 9

a/n : cool cool, heres ch 9, ALSO i will be posting y/n’s assignment when it’s all finished so that’ll be a couple chapters later, that’s why you’re not seeing certain pics rn. love y’all, please talk to me if you want id love to hear what y’all have to say, any thoughts theories about the story? whats going on in your life? tell meeeeeeeeee!!!!!

mah masterlist

“Guys, we’ve got a problem.”

Mitch said from the main section of the tour bus. You had been trying to get a few more hours asleep, but the soft rumble of the tour bus was changed to screams from outside the bus.

You moved your curtain back and stepped out into the bedroom compartment, rubbing the sleep from your eye.

“What is that…”

The words died on your tongue as you looked through the blackout veils in the living room. It was crazy. It was like all of Denmark was there, crowding around the Royal Arena, excitedly anticipating Harry’s arrival.

“So this is what 10,000 people looks like huh.”

You said, still a bit gobsmacked. You looked around at who was in the main compartment and saw Harry sitting on the left couch.

You plopped down beside him and threw your legs up onto the remaining part of the couch, leaning arm again his chest. With his right hand, the poster had been scrolling through Instagram, looking at all the postings from fans for tonight.

On the other couch, Jeff was on a call chatting with someone about the new people barrier they’d need to get through.

He ended the call, “The good news is our other buses were able to get here early enough and unload in the back before the crowd started. The problem now is getting us through the crowd, I called ahead and we’re gonna turn around and take an SUV in to try and be more inconspicuous. Everyone, what you need for the show cause we wont be able to get back to the tour bus till afterwards.”

The group complied and went into the back rooms as the tour bus exited the Arena parking, heading to the secret location where you all would switch vehicles for attempt number two.

You straighten your duvet out, having not pulled out anything during the drive so you didn’t have anything to pack. You glanced over to Harry who was shoving a stray piece of paper that had scribbles all over them into a journal that seemed overstuffed. “

Are those lyrics?” You asked, slinging your backpack onto your shoulder. His eyes looked up at you briefly and then he nodded.

“Yeah, uh, just writin’ whenever I can yeh know?”

You put your shoes back on and headed into the living compartment.

“Alright everyone off and into the SUV pronto so any fans that decided to follow the tour bus don’t intercept our exit.”

Jeff said, taking the keys from the rental man who handed them to him.

You all piled into the SUV, you and Clare in the very back, then Hélène, Harry squished in the middle, Sarah, and then Mitch with Jeff in the front.

“I’m a big boy why I’m I the one sitting ‘ere in the middle!”

He whined as the SUV pulled out onto the road, making his knees hit the console.

You laughed and pulled out your phone for a quick picture, but you weren’t fast enough as Harry snatched your mobile device out of your hand.

“Hey! Give that back you, thief!”

“Nope! I think we need som’ pictures of you know junebug,” the poster cackled, turning the flash on and leaning into Sarah’s lap to take a bunch of snaps of you crawling from the backseats.

You groaned and put your hand up to block the flash dots that had been clouding your eyes.

“Come on! Do better than that Y/N!”

He teased, you responded by changing you hand briefly to flip him off and then to a rocker hand sign. Satisfied, the boy handed you your phone back, that stupid smirk donned on his face.

Cute stupid smirk…

Huh? Psh, yeah whatever.

“Okay crouch everyone, we’re pulling in.”

Jeff called as he pulled into the Arena parking lot again. You watched as the SUV got through easier than last time. You could see from your crouched position some of the fans lined up, or walking together to the doors.

Some were holding signs, others had matching t-shirts. They all seemed so elated to be here, and it made you proud of Harry.

You looked up and saw Harry doing what you had been, watching his fans. A small smile grew on his face and you could see how truly appreciative he was of his fans.

Finally the SUV got to the back gate where the other tour buses had been stationed, Jeff rolled down his window and gave the man at the booth his pass. After it had been approved, the gate opened and allowed the SUV in, closing immediately as some fans tried to slip through but to no avail.

“One more time everyone, 3, 2, 1.”

The beats for Carolina started to play, and the band started up again, Harry standing in the middle of the stage still in sweats, hanging not changed yet.

It had been a few hours since they were able to get and now were just adjusting a few things for the performance like always.

You were sitting on the stage off to the side, laptop in lap. Those assignments didn’t do themselves. You were going through your photos, trying to see if any recent pictures matched some of the words you needed for your last assignment.

After that you head back to the dressing room, having time to kill as the band gets dressed and pampered. You decide to check in with Maggie and give her an update.

It was March 30th now, you were in Barcelona sprinting through the aisles as Harry performed Kiwi.

The concerts had been going well, Norway and Germany were beautiful but it all went by so fast that your memories seemed blurry.

But you remembered your off day yesterday with crystal-like perspective.

“Harry, look at this field oh my god have you seen anything more beautiful!?!”

You and Harry had taken the day off to find something of nature since the only thing y’all had been around the previous week were cement walls.

The both of you stumbled along a lovely meadow in a hill dip about an hour away from Barcelona, where he would be performing tomorrow night. The grass was tall and vivacious, little purple and pink flowers sprang up in between the stems.

H turned to you with a smile that resembled a kid on Christmas Day. He looked absolutely soft and sweet, wearing that blue and white striped hoodie. You matched him slightly, wearing a white sweater and blue skirt complemented by thigh-high boots to keep your legs warm.

“Woohoo!”

He yelled as he ran straight into the flowery abyss and flopped into the ground. You trotted over to him, laughing and snapping photos of the hill line and the fluffy white clouds.

He giggled and you looked down to the boy underneath you. You took a picture of him and smiled.

Scanning back through the photos on the small screen, you think if you’d been a least a foot farther from him you wouldn’t have heard what he said quietly.

“You’re very pretty yeh know.”

You snapped up to look at him, a bit surprised from the compliment.

“Oh, thank you. You are too.”

He crinkled his nose at your response, groaning and then sitting up enough to wrap an arm around your was it and drag you down to his level.

“Harry!”

You scream, sorta laughing as your fall was buffered by the flower bed. The sky was lovely, a bright blue. Clouds were scattered around and the wind slightly pickup, making you shiver.

“Come ‘ere.”

He said softly, pulling you rest your head don his chest. You held your camera up to his face, showing him a picture.

“This one is gonna be for ‘silly’.” You said.

“It’s perfect.”

You thought so too.

A cheer shook you out of your trip down memory lane.

Right, the concert.

You gripped you camera in your hand and scanned the stage to find the boy you were suppose to be taking shots over.

Or off of…

Stop it Y/N!

He looked good, decked out in the black and white patterned suit.

“ ‘ve ripped man trousers!” You heard him say with a laugh.

You rolled your eyes, this boy. After a few more songs, he starts up Anna and you laugh. Oh this song.

You’re taking photos, bopping slightly to it, hey it’s a catchy song!

But then he turns to you and gives you a smile.

Oh no.

The lights shining off his suit and hair make him seem like he’s sparkling, and that smile just made your heart stop.

It’s like you’re fully seeing him in a different light and it’s breathtaking.

Oh, fuck, maybe I do like him.

You’re pacing in your hotel room.

Slightly freaking out.

“I like him! I can’t believe it, Maggie was right I’ve got a stupid crush! I can’t— this, how?”

You talk to yourself, trying to figure out when it all added up for you. The little touches, him saving you from the crowd that one time, sneaking out and touring Amsterdam, even the way you interacted with each other was different from the rest of the band.

“I’m—I’m totally overthinking this right? There’s no way…”

You’ve never felt this way before, the heart races when he smiles, the look he gives you after a laugh, when you hug or snuggle into him on the couch, how his cologne smells making you feel at home and loved.

You stopped pacing.

“Oh my god, am I in love with Harry Styles?!”

Yes, yes I am.

You turn, gobsmacked and flop onto your bed.

What am I gonna do…

You’re in the terminal in at 5am, waiting for the flight to Milan.

It’s dead quiet sans the occasional custodian worker of business group getting off an all-night flight.

You’re standing at a sunglass kiosk, trying on different pairs in the little round mirror set up. The band is across the wide walkway sitting on various chairs waiting for the flight.

Maybe or maybe not you’d been slightly avoiding Harry since the night of your little proclamation. During the Madrid show, you’d opted out of taking photos, instead going out to look around the city and maybe pick up enough stupid tourist gifts to make you forget.

Thankfully Harry didn’t seem to notice your sudden change in moods, unfortunately it meant he was coming over to you right now and you couldn’t stop it.

“Like any of the sunnies?”

He asked, grabbing a pair and popping them on and making a funny face at. You shrugged, not answering.

Oh great, now he seemed to have picked up on your inner turmoil when you didn’t speak, taking the glasses off and putting them back in their rightful place.

“You okay?”

He asked quietly, concern coating the edge of his words.

You nodded, pushing back some of you hair behind your ear and turning to the small mirror to look at your reflection.

“ ‘m just a bit tired.” You answered, hoping that would be enough for him.

He nodded, thinking for a moment then holding up his phone.

“Picture?”

You smiled, “H it’s 5am I don’t look the nicest for a picture right now”

“Oh come on Y/N you’re gorgeous any time of day.”

Not helping.

“Fine fine, but I don’t want to be seen.”

He opened the camera and pointed it into the mirror, “Okay then how are we gonna take this picture love?”

You wrapped you hands around his head to cover his eyes, “Like this goofball.”

He smiled, “You’re the goofball right now.”

After throwing up a peace sign with his spare hand, he snapped the picture and then checked to see if it was good.

“I like, ‘m gonna post it.”

You yawned and nodded to his statement.

Guess I wasn’t fully lying, I am pretty tired.

“H, we’re ready to go.”

Mitch called, you both grabbed your suitcases and rejoined the group, following the flight attendant into the small plane.

You were first in line down the aisle and quickly found a seat in the back of the plane, hoping Harry would opt to sit with someone else a few seats in front of you, after all there were only about 20 seats in the plane, hopefully he’d pick not pick the one right next to you.

I’ve got too much to think about, I might burst into flames if I have to smell his vanilla spice cologne for the next two hours.

“Mind if I sit here?”

Fuck.

“Yeah sure.”

He slid into the seat with ease, tucking his bag under the chair. You curled into the corner of your seat, trying to put a small bit of distance between you but not too much to make him worried.

Harry turned to look at you, propping his left elbow up on the squishy armrest between the two of you.

“I remember the first tour we did fo’ 1D, got ’t was hectic. Stupid, teenagers on the road wit’ too much money an’ not enough discipline. The first month was crazy, all of us high on the feelin’ of performing once we’d gotten over the stage fright, then immediately going t’ a new town, meetin all these people, ’t was a dream. But then a couple months later we could feel the toll, I don’t think I really realized how exhausted I was from touring until the last night where instead o' celebratin, I went to sleep right when we entered the hotel an’ didn’t wake up till 3pm the next day.”

Harry’s little heart spill didn’t help you too much with your dilemma, might’ve just made you fall for him even more, but you appreciated the fact that he was trying to let you know he knew the feeling.

“Thanks H.”

You mumbled, face squished into the headrest of your seat.

He patted his shoulder, “Come ‘ere, yeh can fall asleep on me.”

Your eyes widen, “Oh, don’t worry about it, I’m fine—“

“Nonsense, come on, you’ll wake up without a creak in yo’r neck yea?”

Fuck it.

“Alright.”

You scooched over and nestled into the British heart-throb, soaking in that damn vanilla cologne you’d sworn to avoid.

He laid his head on top of yours and you made yourself relax, cause you couldn’t deny it, it was pretty comfy like this with him.

Pretty comfy indeed.

During the concert, all you can think about while taking pictures is how the Styles boy might be sweeping you right off your feet.

The little dance moves he makes, so erotic but beautiful in the same way, like he’s in another room dancing on his own in the dark. The way he throws he head back during certain parts of a song, caught up in the moment—

She’s such a good girl,

“Be professional! You’re on job for gods sake,” You muttered to yourself, raising the camera again.

She feels so good,

But then you lower the camera again to watch as he rocked his hips with the beat, jaw-dropping at the sight. You looked up to his face as he turns, that was now looking at you.

He started to strut on the stage, slowing making his way to you, eye contact unwavering.

“I met her once and wrote a song about her

I wanna scream, yeah

I wanna shout it out

And I know she hears me now.”

Hold on, knows?!

He finally let his eyes drift back to the crowd, singing la la las with the rest of the band.

You on the other hand, were having a miniature heat attack.

The gesture was so raw, so real, too real. It’s like he was talking to your soul, reaching out to tell you—

Does this mean he likes me too?

telephone hour for this chapter!

mah masterlist

64 notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 4 years

Text

heart under construction (02)

word count; 4842

summary; sam can’t handle how you make him feel, and so he takes the easy way out.

notes; this gets angstyyyyy, I’m sorry in advance.

warnings; none, nada, zilch.

Sam was finding it harder and harder to deny just how much he looked forward to your visits. They were well into month two of construction now, and seeing you bringing them coffee and smiles in the morning had become a vital part of his day. He knew when you would arrive, how long you would stay for and when you’d go back past in the afternoons upon finishing at the school.

If asked, he would deny that you were the reason he started taking is lunch breaks later, and he would deny that he was definitely packing extra food each morning before Jake was picking him up, just on the off-chance that it might be one of the days you would join him for his lunch break. On an occasional day, you did choose to sit with him, and he’d listen to you talk happily about the school, the nursery kids and how much each one meant to you.

He knew about Zach, who was a pain in the arse, but still somehow one of your favourites. He was fond of Lexi, who reminded him of his own niece, and he hated Connor with a burning passion, because the kid often came up in the stories that ruined your day, and so he naturally chose not to like him, whether he was four or forty.

You were becoming more and more ingrained in his life, and he was doing nothing to stop it.

He didn’t want to do anything to stop it.

You knew more about him than almost anyone, when he spoke to you, he couldn’t help the words that would just start pouring from his mouth, the questions following. He didn’t just want you to know about him, he wanted to know about you. He wanted to know everything, from your favourite colour to your deepest fears, he wanted to hear your most embarrassing stories and he wanted to know what your thoughts were on every topic he could think of. He wanted to know if you believed in aliens, and which conspiracy theories you thought were true, and which vines were your favourite. He wanted to know you, through and through.

It was as though the more he learned, the more he needed.

You knew about his niece, Jake had proudly shod you pictures of his husband Roger and his daughter Alice only a few days after meeting you. He’s boasted about his daughter’s accomplishments, and he’d told you the story of his proposal to the man he loved. Sam had watched with pure joy the day you had dished out advice to his brother when he was panicked about Alice, just to see you put him at ease with only a few words.

He could no longer picture a day without you in it, without you passing through in a whirlwind of cute smiles and stupid jokes for him.

The day Sam had realised just how much he needed you was the day you’d made the same stupid ‘Uncle Sam’ joke he made on every date he went on, his eyes wide and jaw dropped as you teased him about being Uncle Sam and asked him if he would do his best impression of the propaganda posters, only to giggle incessantly as he pulled off a very poor attempt at a recreation, unable to hold his face in the same stern look.

Since that day, he hadn't been able to bring himself to make the usual joke on his dates, because he knew he wouldn’t get the same joy from seeing them laugh as he did when you had.

As the weeks went on, he was finding it harder and harder to deny that you might be exactly what he wanted. You might be perfect for him, and he had to consciously stop himself from thinking about you, as you started to take up a permanent residence to linger in the back of his mind. He couldn't stop, he would be shopping and be reminded of you in something he thought you’d like to try, and he’d definitely put it in his basket before moving on. He’d be on a date and a girl would remind him of something you would say and he knew the joy filling his system wasn’t from the girl before him but from the idea of you being with him instead.

As they neared the summer, you had started wearing lighter dresses, and fewer coats, and Sam couldn’t forget the day you’d come by to see them on the weekends, a light summer dress swishing around your midthighs, a stark contrast to the work-appropriate trousers he’d seen you in before that point. You had eaten lunch with him that day too, and he had struggled not to let his eyes trace over the skin revealed to him when your dress rode up as you sat down, or the way your leg felt pressed up against his.

He had spent hours resisting the urge to reach out and discover just how soft your thighs would be under his fingertips, and how they might feel trembling under his grasp, or scratched up and red from his beard.

You were off-limits. You were too nice for him to ruin it, because he didn’t settle down.

He didn’t do relationships. He doesn’t. He won’t change for one chick, not with all that could go wrong, not with every hope he could build-up, only for one person to bring everything around him crashing down. Not again. Now, the only person he relied on was himself.

He wasn’t snapped out of his thoughts until your voice was calling out to him, not from inside his own mind but from the street below, his eyes scanning over the area until he saw you, hands cupped around your mouth as you called out to him, waving happily and the smile he sent you back was instinctual, he was unable to hold it back, stop it from breaking free.

He was waving you up the ladder before he could think about it, and you were quickly completing the climb. Taking a seat beside him, you huffed out happily, nudging him with your shoulder and giving him a laugh, his eyes rolled fondly, your feet carrying you quickly across the now stable floorboards to greet his brother, and he trailed behind you slowly, the work he had been doing now completely forgotten as he followed after you.

You were complimenting them on the house, telling them just how much you admired the amazing work they were doing and his cheeks flushed, an idea suddenly coming to mind for him, his hand taking yours absentmindedly as he lit up with all new kinds of excitement.

“We finished the balcony!”

Before he could stop himself, he was tugging you along, guiding you up the mended staircase to the top floor as he swiftly undid the catch on the ceiling to floor doors, pushing them open as the low sun flooded the room, and you awed at the space, your hand gripping his tightly as you stepped out cautiously onto the small patio space. The fences had yet to be put up, the bolts and supports put in place, but the old-fashioned style railings were still sitting in a stack in the corner, and you turned to face Sam with a lazy on your face.

“Classic style railings to match your oldies theme, yeah?”

His eyes widened, nodding slightly as you crouched, running the fingers of your free hand over the warm metal, tracing the swirling patterns. The rays of the lowering sun cast a golden glow over your skin, making you seem almost otherworldly as you admired the sights around you, your breath practically knocked from you each time you looked out over the beautiful scenery.

The sun was dipping, not quite hitting the edge of the horizon yet, but it was getting close, the distance seeming to dance lowly as the heat died down, the pale yellows and oranges of the lower sky fading away into barely present pastel pinks and purples, soon to fade to royal blues and ebony blacks as the night was ushered in.

“I bet the sunset would look amazing from here.”

Sam wasn’t even sure if you were aware that you had spoken the sentence, the dreamy way you had sighed out your words made him question whether it was just a thought you had accidentally let slip as you stared longingly at the distant sky. He squeezed your hand, tugging you closer to him a little as you turned your head, eyes soft and a small smile gracing your features as he looked at you, the urge to lean in and bump his nose against yours almost overtaking him, and he cleared his throat, giving you a shy smile as he spoke up; “You should stay and watch it. I’ll stay behind, and lock up after.”

“Wait, really?”

Your excitement was already leaking through, your fingers gripping his, your other hand coming up to hold his between both of yours as you practically bounced in your place, your body now facing him fully and he laughed gently at your enthusiasm, his chest filling with warmth and his heart racing as he studied the joyous look on your face. “Yeah, ‘course. It’s going to be a great sunset tonight, it’s been warm all day, and it’s a clear sky. I think-”

“Sam, your phone is ringing an- oh, shit, sorry. You want me to just send it to voicemail?” Jake gave him a knowing look as he reached the top of the stairs, waving the buzzing device to him, a knowing smirk on his face as he looked over the two of you, your hands clasped together between you, almost chest to chest in the rays of the setting sun.

It was far too romantic for Sam. Nope, not at all.

“No, no it’s fine. I’ll answer.” He took his hand from yours, pressing his thumb down on the green answer button and stepping away from the two of you as he heard you begin to tell his brother all about the sunset he was planning to show you, a small smile twisted on his face as he greeted whoever has called him.

“Ye’llo? This is Sam.” He jogged down to the bottom of the steps, glancing back to see you beaming, your arms spread wide as you joked with Jake, the sight of you getting along so well with his brother just warming his heart.

“Hey, Sam? It’s Jess, from the other week?”

His eyes widened and he spun away from the scene, remembering the fiery red-head he had been out with the week prior, a smirk tugging on his lips. “Hey, Jess. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you’re free tonight? I have no work tomorrow, and my roommates out for the weekend, so I am just all alone over here with takeout food and vodka?”

Her tone was teasing, and Sam knew exactly what she was offering. Licking over his lower lip, he rubbed a hand over his jaw and scratched at the scruffy beard that had built up, glancing back at you once more, something he wasn’t used to feeling twisting in his gut as he made his decision.

The sun did set every night, there was always more opportunities to watch the sunset, right?

“I can be there at seven, text me the address, beautiful. I’ll see you soon.” With a cheeky grin, he ended the call, taking the steps two at a time back up to the top floor and tucking his phone into his pocket, feeling it buzz only a second later with what he assumed to be the address from ‘Jess’. “Sorry, new plan. Can I raincheck on that sunset? I have a date.”

Sam had not anticipated how much it would hurt to watch the smile fall from your face, even just momentarily, and no matter how hard you tried to fake a new smile, he’d seen the sadness flicker across your features, his heart feeling as though it had frozen over and turned to stone in that split second, plummetting to his stomach.

He offered you a few more dates, more dates in the upcoming week, the sudden regret of the choice he’d made coming back to bite him in the ass as he pulled his phone out, offering to search to find which day would be best, checking for the best temperatures, but your enthusiasm seemed to have seeped away as you dismissed him, telling him it was ‘no big deal’, despite the fact he could clearly hear from your tone that it had saddened you.

The chance to spend time with you was quickly slipping through his fingers, his heart shattering as he watched you fasten your coat more firmly around yourself, building yourself up to excusing yourself and he grasped at straws, trying to work out how to backpedal from the situation he had gotten himself into, how t-

“I’ll stay. I love watching the sunsets, I’d love to watch it with you.” His eyes hardened, gaze narrowing as he looked over at his brother, trying to ask him what the fuck he was doing, but the happy squeal you released in response only caused his heart to sink further, your face lighting up once again as you turned your back on him, to face his brother.

“Really? You would?”

“Yeah, I can tell you more about my daughter. I have some stories you’ll love.” Jake glanced over his shoulder as you wandered further toward the edge, the sun getting lower and duller in the sky, and Jake fixed him with a harsh and judging look, shaking his head as if to dismiss him, and Sam felt his jaw drop, no chance to respond as his brother turned for him, beginning a story about Alice as you sat on the edge, your legs swinging over the edge of the balcony.

He considered saying goodbye, he considered just texting ‘Jess’ and calling it off, so he could sit on your other side. He could get the blanket from his truck and wrap it around your shoulders to keep you warm, and if you wanted, he would stay with you until night set in, the moon shining brightly so you could watch the stars without the light pollution of the city or the blockade of clouds, thanks to the clear night.

And then, Sam caught himself.

Snapping back from the sappy thoughts, he shook his head, turning on his heel and focusing on making sure he was looking good in the front camera of his phone as he made his way toward the street, pulling up the app to book a taxi as your voice faded away behind him, the front door slamming shut as he stormed from the property.

Instead, he was going to drink and fuck his troubles away with a hot redhead.

The cab pulled up for him, and Sam was quick to dish out a handful of notes to the driver, checking his hair in the reflection of the mirror before he was hopping out, striding into the lobby of the apartment building with confidence. Scrolling his finger down the list of numbers, he found the one he was searching for, pushing his finger against the buzzer for a second. Instead of getting a verbal response, the grated gate across from him humming as it opened for him, slamming shut behind him as he jogged to the elevator.

The second the doors shut and he had pushed the button, he studied the flicking of the lights above his head signalling the floors climbing, and he pushed the thought of your smiling face from his mind, quickly chasing the disappointed look on your face from his thoughts as well.

He was in the elevator, on the way up to the apartment of a very hot girl who wanted to spend the night with him, so why was he thinking about you?

The second the ding of the elevator sounded, the doors sliding open, his mind blanked as he looked at the sight before him. Popped in the doorway, a wicked grin on her face as the red curls framed her face, a pale blue lacy nightgown falling to her mid-thighs, he was dashing the distance of the corridor and the open door across from him, his hands finding her hips and giggles filling the apartment as she swung the door shut behind them.

She took one of his hands in both of hers, a wide smile on her face and he tried to ignore the feeling of wrongness creeping along his spine, tried to ignore how much he preferred the feeling when it had been you. Instead, he leaned down, bumping his nose with hers before pressing their lips together carefully and cautiously, the way he had wished to do with you as he tried to replace the ideas of you in his heart.

Hold on, heart?

Swallowing thickly, he broke away from the girl before it could go too far, choosing instead to comment on the smell of the food in the house, and she guided him through to sit on the couch. The conversation between them flowed, but it was strained. It was small talk, and he hated small talk. It was nothing like the conversation he had with you when funny and easy-going chat would flow between you so fluidly and comfortably you’d think you had known each other for years.

He chose instead to distract himself with his food, letting the girl slide closer to him at their meals finished, the layers of clothing slipping from his body as he let himself get comfortable. His shoes were toed off, kicked away across the room, and his jacket slipped from his shoulders. The overshirt he wore was stripped away, and so was the belt around his waist, the buckle having been digging into him.

Jess had inched her way across the couch, she had started on the other side of the couch, and now, her legs were slung across his lap, his hand stroking the skin of her upper thigh gently as she giggled, pouring a new set of drinks for them as he kissed and nipped at her jawline teasingly.

Taking a deep swig of the poorly mixed and very strong drink he’d been served by the girl before him, he downed the entire thing, a wide grin on his face as the warm haze from this one, and the previous ones, already taking effect in his veins. Gripping her leg tightly, he plucked the glass from her hand, adding it to his own empty one on the coffee table before him, to lie with the discarded boxes and plates.

Pulling the girl over his lap, she squealed in joy as he leaned back into the couch cushions, her eyes boring into his as her hands wove into his hair and his hands slipped around to palm at her ass, her lips slanting over his wetly, their touch not nearly as intoxicating as they had been the weeks prior, but he was willing to try. Instead, he focused on the feel of her body pressed to his, the way she moaned above him as he groped at her and the way her hips were starting to roll down into his.

Finally, the image of your beautiful smile burned into his mind each time he closed his eyes faded away.

Sam was royally fucked.

His head was pounding, his muscles were aching, and he was late.

He was so late that all the missed calls from Jake, all the texts that had asked him where he was and how long he was going to be had all be replaced with one passive-aggressive ‘nevermind’ and then it had gone silent. He had barely mumbled a goodbye to Jess when she had dropped him off as he dashed up the steps of his own home, bursting in through the front door and straight up the stairs to the second floor as his eyes landed on his brother.

The man was painting possible colour samples onto the patches of walls that were leftover, the fill-ins still having to be completed. “I missed going to get carpet samples! I know! I am so sorry, but-”

“Oh, hey!” Sam was panting as he reached the top of the stairs, his hands coming to rest on his knees as he tried to regain his breath, his hungover body not thanking him for the sudden exertion, and his brain was muddled, the lecture he had expected to receive from his older sibling having never been sounded out. “Don’t worry about it, it’s all good.”

“Uh.. right.”

“How was your night?” Jake’s question only confused him further, and Sam stood up straight, scratching the back of his neck as he looked or his brother, who had turned back to painting his sample patches. Jake never asked him about his ‘dates’.

“Yeah, it was fine. She was fine.. I guess..” The man only hummed in response, and Sam couldn’t help but feel like his brother was just a ticking time bomb waiting to explode, no matter how calm he was being right now, and he just couldn't take it anymore. “I am sorry, Jake. I know you wanted an opinion on the samples, and I should have been there, so, it's not okay.”

“Dude, it’s fine, really. I’m glad you had fun.” Wiping his hands down on a rag, he finally turned to face Sam and he took a step toward his brother, Jake’s hand clapping down on his shoulder as he smiled at him, widely. “I, er, I didn’t go alone, actually. (Y/N) came with me.”

Sam had spent the night trying to push you out of his mind, and he had succeeded. In fact, up until this point, he had yet to think about you today, and suddenly, it’s like the weight of your presence had come crashing down over him once again. “What?”

“Yeah, I was texting her this morning.” Jake shrugged, as though it was no big deal, and Sam felt rage flood his system. Not at his brother, but at himself. The same feelings of guilt from last night came clawing back at him once again, and the regret of how he’d spent the night curled up with another woman in an attempt to forget you. His head was still pounding, his stomach was twisting with nausea and he was confused about how he was feeling. “When you weren’t around, she offered to come with me. She actually chose some really great samples, they-”

“Woah, texting? Since when did you have her number?”

He could physically see the way his brother recoiled from his harsh tone, his jaw dropping and Sam almost felt bad, but the puzzling mix of emotions swirling within his mind and heart were masking it out entirely. “Uh.. well, since she told me that her nursery group is having an event to welcome possible new parents and kids to the class in September, and that she thinks I should go.”

They must have been talking about it the night before, and Sam was kicking himself knowing the fact that she had such a good time she had deemed them close enough to have her number, and that he’d been too busy fucking another girl to have been here to get her number. “Right, fantastic..”

“Dude, what is your problem today? It’s no big deal, it was just carpet samples, stop beating yourself up! I took (Y/N), and it went f-”

“We’re just letting strangers make decisions about our house now, then? About my house?” He knew it was unfair, but his mind was buzzing, and he wasn’t himself, and once the anger that was festering within him at his confusion had found a way to start leaking out just couldn't stop it. “Good to know! Great idea, Jake! Maybe, I’ll start bringing all my dates over here to pass their opinion, too! At least I had a fun night with them, so their opinion must be important, too!”

He took a break, pacing up and down as his brother stared at him, slack-jawed and brows furrowed, and Sam was so caught up in his own world and thoughts that everything around him felt like it was beginning to slip away, like it was of nothing important or worth taking in.

“I mean, if we’re going to let one total stranger give their opinion on my house, might as well be all of them! Let’s just invite the entirety of this random neighbourhood to pass their opinion, may as well make it city fucking hall while we’re at it!”

The silence around him was overwhelming, his breath panted out as he dropped his hands to his sides from where they had been held out in exasperation, and his shoulders sagged, face relaxing as he felt all the irrational anger he’d built up bubble over and escape, calmness and tranquillity seeping back into his body.

“I am so sorry. I totally invaded, didn’t I?” Sam felt like he had turned to stone with how fast his body tensed. He had never heard the footsteps, never even knew she had been here, but how could he have when he’d been so caught up in a screaming match with himself. He practically gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned around, his eyes wide as he took you in. Comfy and casual wear, a devastated look on your sweet face as you avoided looking at him entirely, and cold pangs of sadness moved through his chest more and more prominently with each beat of his heart as he watched you back away. “You’re right, it really wasn’t my place.. I mean, I just came all up in here, I’m not sure what I was thinking. I’m going to go, this is your house, I’m not welcome. Got it. I.. I’ll see you around, I guess?”

Placing down the handful of small carpet trimmings you had been holding, each word you spoke felt like a stabbing wound added to his conscience, and he gaped like a fish, panicking on what to do as he watched you make your way down the stairs. He whipped his head back and forth between where you had been stood, and his brother, the sound of the front door slamming shut upon your exit snapping him from his reverie as he scrambled to get tot he stairs and follow you.

When he finally made it out onto the street, tumbling down the driveway and onto the street, he found it empty, no movement or even a hint of your presence to show him which way you might have gone. He knew which way you always walked to and from, but when he reached the street corner, he had no idea which way you may have gone and how he would find you.

Trudging back to his house, he could barely lift his feet as the severity of what had transpired dragged him down, his toes catching on the step as he dragged himself back up to face his brother. A tense silence sat between the two men, thick ad palpable in the air, and he distracted himself by picking up the collection of thick fabric samples you had left behind, a small smile flicking on his features.

Shuffling through them, he ran his thumb over each one, evaluation the colours and textures as he thought deeply about each one. He loved each and every one, he couldn’t fight that they were all truly terrific samples, and he probably wouldn’t have chosen any of them any differently if he had been there himself, and the thought only made him feel worse.

“I like the dark grey and speckled one.. for the stairs and the middle floor.” His words were mumbled out, and Jake let out a sigh, the first real sign of disappointment his brother had shown since he’d returned and it sent chills shooting along Sam’s spine at the thought.

“Yeah, that’s what she said.” With a shake of the head, Jake sealed up the paint pots he had been using, dropping paintbrushes into a pot of water to soak. “Said she thought they would look best. Something about thinking that they would give us maximum opportunities on the furniture we chose, because that carpet was a pretty neutral colour, but also made a statement.”

“Yeah..”

“That doesn’t matter, though.” Jake’s voice had hardened, the disapproving older-brother tone only adding to the sombre mood in the building. “I mean, it was just a complete strangers opinion. Not like she’s a friend. We don’t really know her.”

“I fucked up, I know that.” With a heavy sigh, Sam palmed at stinging eyes, choking down his emotions. “Don’t make it any worse.”

#sam taylor #sam taylor amazing stories #dylan obrien sam taylor #sam taylor x reader #sam taylor/reader #amazing stories #dylan obrien amazing stories #dylan o'brien amazing stories #dylan obrien #dylan obrien fic #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien x reader #HUC #heart under construction

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mnthpprt · 4 years

Text

Chapter 14: Modern Musings And Old Temptations

[I apologize for not uploading in a few days. As lockdown starts easing up, daily life has become more busy for me. I still intend to at least try writing a chapter a day, and you all are welcome to send me what you would like to see in the story as well as other kinds of posts like headcanons and such.]

I patiently wait outside le Comte’s door until he is done talking to whoever is inside. Judging by the husky voice I hear alongside his own, smooth and melodic, it must be Leonardo.

Turns out I was right. He finally steps out of the room and closes the door behind him before glancing at me.

“You look good, cara mia,” he compliments me. I thank him with a quiet “grazie” and a shy half smile before he walks away, hands in his pockets.

I knock on the door and le Comte invites me in, but instead, I just open it enough for me to poke my head inside.

“Morning, Comte,” I greet him. “How bad would it be if I turned one of the dresses you gave me into a pantsuit?” He tilts his head and gives me a confused smile.

“I would not take issue with it, but you’d surely get some looks around town. Why do you ask?”

“Well...” I finally walk in, revealing my new outfit. “Surprise! It’s so pretty I wanted to be able to wear it without destroying it with my clumsiness, especially after the little accident I had with the ladder in the library.”

After leaving Isaac’s room, I went to ask Sebastian for some pins, thread, and an old bed sheet. Sadly, he did not have one, so I spent all of yesterday evening and part of the night doing my best to sew without a pattern. The aim was originally to shorten the skirt, but I ended up separating it from the bodice entirely and turning them both into a sort of top and a pair of wide legged trousers, respectively. There was enough fabric left for me to make some matching shorts out of it, which I wont’ be able to wear much but are good for skating. I also shortened my chemise and made a simple bra out of the bottom part, so I have something to wear when I don’t feel like putting on a corset.

“That’s not too bad,” le Comte laughs. “You look beautiful, ma chérie.” I giggle and twirl around to give him a better view. “ How did you alter it so quickly? From what I can tell, you’ve been busy.”

“Isaac gave me a sewing machine,” I explain. “That’s another thing I wanted to mention. We talked. I think he’ll finally stop avoiding me now,” I say with a smile. He returns it.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He gestures for me to take a seat across from his desk, and I oblige. “The reason I called you here, Anaïs, is that Sebastian will be going into town today to do some shopping. I was wondering if you would want to accompany him.”

“Count me in,” I declare. The only reason I haven’t ventured into 19th century Paris on my own yet is that I don’t know the customs. Getting in trouble over my lack of etiquette is not exactly on my time travel checklist.

“Wonderful. The coach is already waiting outside,” he says. “Have fun, ma chérie.”

Soon after that, I am stepping off the carriage and onto the cobbled street of the city, Sebastian close behind me. I can’t help but look around in amazement at just how new everything looks; this is the same area I frequented no more than a few days ago, the buildings in which were then charmingly run down, if not haphazardly renovated to fit a more modern industrial aesthetic. However, in this very moment, the stone façades are still free of pollution and graffiti, each brick perfectly shaped, blissfully unaware or the erosion that will eventually blunt their edges.

I feel Sebastian tug me along gently, but I am too captivated by the sight before me to properly process his amused expression. I recognize my favorite bar, only it is not a bar, but a book shop. The book shop I recently took refuge in when it rained has become a café, and the café where I had bought a croissant to eat on the go is now a tailor’s shop. Even the quaint little boutique with the nice sweater I didn’t have enough cash to buy has changed, the window display now gone and replaced with a front door to what I presume is somebody’s home.

The rational part of me is conflicted. On the one hand, I have been, for two days now, well aware of the fact that I have really traveled back in time, so this change in the city should not surprise me in the slightest. On the other hand, I also know myself, and I should not have been expected to just accept that so easily. The past few days have been completely insane, to say the least. Time travel is real! Vampires are real! Nothing makes sense!

Nothing makes sense. I latch onto that mantra like a lifeline. Nothing makes sense, but I would be lying to myself if I denied I have been enjoying it. A fresh start, with no expectations and a whole lot of time. The slow pace of this life I am only dipping my toes into contrasts so violently against my usual routine that the shock almost feels good. I quietly mouth to myself that I am effectively trapped here for a month, still unsure of whether I want this surreal fever dream to be over or to lay back and enjoy it while it lasts. Regardless, that knowledge tastes bittersweet on my tongue. I feel helpless, yet this beautiful cage offers a much needed holiday from my - uncomfortable at best, painful at worst - existence in the modern world.

This train of thought inevitably leads me to what Arthur said back in the thermae. The bite of a vampire comes with immense pleasure, he’d told me. I knew then it was merely his attempt at seduction, but the more I think about it the more sense it makes. The brief pain of helplessness and fear and frustration, followed by the promise of something beautiful: a world where the impossible is fact, where I could live and breathe, rather than just survive, barely able to gasp for air. And all for the complicated price of leaving behind everything I ever knew, my friends, my loved ones, the very blood of my blood. Is it a bad deal at all? Am I selfish for entertaining the thought of putting my own safety at risk in exchange for some peace and quiet among the voices in my head that never seem to shut up?

“Anaïs,” Sebastian waves a hand over my face, bringing me back to reality. “We’re here. Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, sorry. Got distracted.” Though it might be a bad excuse, there is no lie in that statement. He looks concerned, but I wave him off with a smile. “What are we buying?” He frowns, unconvinced, but moves on to answer.

“I know the sellers at the farmer’s market well enough to get some discounts, so I want to go there for cooking ingredients and some toiletries. We’re also low on coffee. I was thinking you could go get it on your own, that way you can also explore the city to your heart’s content,” he says. “You know, as a thank you for your help. Consider it a break from work.”

He gives me a friendly smile as he slides some money into my hand, and I thank him by briefly holding his own. Right now, he might be the closest thing I have to a friend. If only he weren’t so busy...

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #ikevamp #ikemen #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikevam fanfic #ikevamp fanfiction #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp leonardo #ikemen vampire comte #ikevamp comte #ikemen vampire sebastian #ikevamp sebastian

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fuckingfinwions · 4 years

Text

AU: In Noldorin culture, starting at his majority at age 50, an elf sexually serves his father. After all, so much was putting into raising the child, it’s only fair that he gets to see what came of it. It would be abhorrent for a father to physically force or to sexually torment his son, but the son is expected to come to his father’s bed whenever requested, until the son reaches his second majority (age 100), or marries and starts a family of his own.

This fulfills the “leather/rubber” square of my season of kink card.

Gil-Galad and Maedhros sat across from each other. They had met at an abandoned village halfway between the two camps so that Elrond and Elros could go to the large, safer force. The main negotiations had been completed by letter, but now the two commanders were finally seeing each other face to face. Both had left their swords outside to demonstrate truce, though there were guards close enough to make betrayal costly.

Gil-Galad said, “Thank you for releasing the boys. What did you want to speak with me about?”

“That’s all the warmth you have to welcome your father?” Maedhros replied.

“As you are a murderer who hasn’t spoken to me since I was twelve, yes.”

“I sent you away for your safety after the war seemed hopeless. Do you really wish you had fought alongside me these past fifty years?”

“No!”

“Anyway, that touches on what I wanted to speak with you about. I have missed you, though even without me you have grown into a strong king.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

“I have also missed the chance to see how you’ve grown as a man, as the reflection of my lover and myself. I would have that tonight.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Why not? You are my son, and I have the right to you. I’m not even considering repayment for the decades you stayed away from me.”

“It is a perverted tradition, and you are worthy of nothing.”

“This has nothing to do with your opinions of my actions. It is a part of Noldorin tradition as much as the crown; you can’t claim one without the other.”

“What would my other father say of this if he were here? Would Fingon be as willing to bend me over the nearest scrap of furniture?”

“You’ve truly been among Sindar too long! The homage of a son to his father is perfectly reasonable and honorable, not merely the refuge of immoral creatures such as you consider me. Fingon and I discussed that we would raise you to understand Noldorin customs and responsibility, and he would be grieved that you turn your back on them.”

“If being among Sindar allowed me to see clearly what is unnatural and marred about having sex with someone you raised from a child, I am glad of it.”

“Unnatural! What could be more natural than to wish how to see the person you find most beautiful in the world combines with yourself? And if you object to sex with someone who raised you, that should make me more appealing rather than less.”

A terrible thought occurred to GIl-Galad. “If you think this way, I assume your brother does as well, and he raised Elwing’s sons. Were they forced to pay for their care the same way?”

“You are phrasing it in the worst possible way, but no. Though the twins call Maglor 'father’, he does not claim any rights over them. And besides, as Peredhel it is hard to know when they are of age.”

Gil-Galad let out a sigh of relief.

“You, though, are my son, and I am growing frustrated that you will acknowledge that but not your duties.”

“Why should I? What benefit will I get out of pretending you deserve anything from me?!”

“Benefit! Fine, then, if you want to cheapen yourself by bartering your body I can hardly stop you. First off, I won’t have my men shoot you tomorrow as you ride away, even though it would help me a lot for the Beleriand Noldor to have no king. Second, I will not tell your followers who curse my name whose son you are, nor will I tell Arafinwe either that you’re mine or that you have less respect for tradition and law than Feanor himself, even though it’s true.”

“So you put me in your bed through threats and blackmail.”

“It could have been out of your own desire and respect, but you decided that was not enough. I you need to be bribed with a treat though, I will tell you in the morning all the tactics that Morgoth has employed in the past five hundred years, so you can better defend against them.”

“You paying only after me? Hardly fair.”

“I am already paying for what is mine by right. I think you have heard quite well what happens to those who try to extort me.”

“Fine. For tonight, I will obey you, Father.”

“Good. Start by taking off your armor, I can hardly see the shape of you.”

Gil-Galad did so, setting each piece off to the side and wondering if this was all an attempt to get him vulnerable enough for an assassination. He struggled with the buckles on the back of his thighs, usually having a squire to help with them.

Maedhros approached, and Gil-Galad tensed. Maedhros undid the buckles that Gil-Galad had been having trouble with, then moved upwards. Maedhros kissed the back of Gil-Galad’s neck as he undid the buckles on his shoulders.

When Gil-Galad was down to his tunic and hose, Maedhros said “very good. Help me with mine now; as I’m not wearing full plate it should be faster.”

Gil-Galad pulled the mail tunic over Maedhros’s head, and wondered aloud, “Even with each other’s help, are we going to be able to put all this back on?”

Maedhros gave an uncaring shrug once he was down to his leather riding pants and jerkin. “Probably not.”

“But people will know!”

“Maglor will guess, but no one else knows you’re my son. You can say that we were working late into the night and sleeping in armor is uncomfortable. Or you can say that the vile kinslayer threatened you into sex, I don’t particularly care. Just know that if anyone tries to avenge your honor their death will be on your conscience.”

“Are you-” Gil-Galad bit off the comment he was going to make. “Don’t joke about that tonight; not if you want me to stay polite.”

“If you inherited the family temper, you ought to practice controlling it more, especially as a king,” Maedhros chided. “But very well.”

Maedhros stepped back and looked at Gil-Galad; he made a pretty picture. His clothes had been disheveled by the armor’s removal and Gil-Galad had not bothered to put them back in place.

“You look pretty, but I’m sure I’ll enjoy what’s under the clothes even more. Undress for me, slowly.”

Gil-Galad began to unlace his shirt. He looked Maedhros in the eye for a moment, then hastily glanced away. Once the shirt was unlaced at the neck he lifted it a few inches, paused to glance at Maedhros without making eye contact, lifted it an inch more and paused again. Maedhros was about to yell in frustration when Gil-Galad yanked the shirt up until was all bunched between his nipples and chin and wiggled his shoulders, perhaps to show of their breadth.

Gil-Galad was so obviously nervous that he nearly got his arms stuck in the shirt, but Maedhros was far too distracted to help. Maedhros had been right about how much he would enjoy seeing his son’s body. The breadth in the shoulders was all Fingon, but light skin dotted with freckles was barely a shade darker than Maedhros’s own. Gil-Galad’s height came from him as well, and that lovely chest several inches closer to Maedhros’s gaze than when he was with Fingon.

Their similar heights also made Gil-Galad’s lack of eye contact extremely obvious. He wasn’t looking up from his lashes and playing the ingenue, but rather staring at a fixed point a few inches past Maedhros’s left ear. It couldn’t be the ear itself, as that had been gone for centuries, and most people didn’t find it’s lack interesting after a moment or two of shock.

“There’s no need to be nervous. Even if I’m not your first choice of lover, I assure you that I will not cause you pain and have every intention of bringing you pleasure alongside my own.”

Gil-Galad blushed and mumbled for a moment.

“What was that?”

“Not my first choice, but my first all the same.”

“Really? You’re a virgin?”

“Yes. It hasn’t seemed worth the headache pursuing anyone.”

“Are there none who pursue you?” Maedhros asked as he walked closer.

Gil-Galad shook his head.

“You mean that a beautiful, brave, noble young man such as yourself has not yet been recognized as the treasure you are?” Maedhros was now standing with his clothed chest less than an inch from Gil-Galad’s bare one, still refraining from touching. He leaned close and whispered in his son’s ear, “That is a travesty I will thoroughly make up for tonight.”

Gil-Galad shivered and turned his head to look Maedhros in the eye. Maedhros held his gaze for only a moment before leaning in still further, capturing his lips and pressing against his front.

Gil-Galad had remained soft until now, but the leather laces rubbing against his chest began to stir him. He reached for them to try and get the two of them back on equal footing, but Maedhros caught his hand.

“Lately, I am more beautiful while clothed. You are magnificent though, and I expect I’ll like what’s under your trousers even more. Take them of; I want to see all of you,” Maedhros said, backing up a few inches so Gil-Galad could have room.

Gil-Galad did. The tent was chilly, and he leaned back towards Maedhros as soon as possible. His cock brushed against Maedhros’s thigh, the leather sticking and releasing.

“You certainly get the length from me, but that curve is all Fingon. I wonder if liking your balls played with is a family trait as well.” Maedhros reached down with his right arm, the left being occupied tracing patterns on Gil-Galad’s back. Maedhros wore an odd sort of glove on the handless wrist, but he had a lot of practice and was very skillful with it. He caressed Gil-Galad’s sack, letting the leather glove drag along the sensitive skin while never pressing too hard.

Gil-Galad moaned.

“It seems so,” Maedhros said, drifting his fingers lower as his right arm maintained its place.

Gil-Galad started forward when his father’s fingers found their goal. Even one finger was more than he had ever had inside him, and he was scared of how large a cock would feel.

Maedhros said, “Deep breaths, relax and just focus on what you’re feeling right now.”

Gil-Galad let his head rest on Maedhros’s shoulder and did so, inhaling the musky scent of the leather overlaid with the oil worked in to keep it clean. It was heady.

Maedhros was starting to sweat, but he had no intention of undressing beyond what was necessary, and not until the time it was necessary. He let the sweat run down his face and into his collar as he trailed kisses across his son’s face.

Gil-Galad was practically overwhelmed with sensation. The finger inside him had found a spot that made him see stars. Every time he tried to move away his cock rubbed against the firm leather of Maedhros’s pants, or against the sleeve where Maedhro’s arm was still toying with his balls. The kisses were a light contrast, until Maedhros began kissing his lips as well.

Gil-Glad came the moment is father’s tongue parted his lips. He threw back his head and moaned. Maedhros looked sweaty but still fully dressed as if he had come in from the training yard - with the exception of a very obvious white stain on one thigh and halfway up his belly. Gil-Galad thought he could have come again from the sight alone.

“I’d say this night is off to a very good start,” Maedhros remarked, making no move to wipe away the mess.

#season of kink #incest eromenos au #fucking gil galad #this scene takes place in F.A. 555 and Gil-Galad was born in F.A. 460 #making him 95 and definitely an adult but not seen as societally mature #warning for incest advocacy by one of the characters #things that are relevant in this au:#feanor and arafinwe both married young #Feanor didn't like the association with Indis #and although the norm is only for same-gender parent and child to have sex in this au #there's some showing off that's expected between spouses #and Feanor was not going to let Indis see him naked and vulnerable #Arafinwe married young because he believes he's Finwe's least favorite son and didn't want to keep being aware how he was falling short #once you've had the fire of Feanor and the strength of Nolofinwe in your bed why would you want him?#Arafinwe wanted to avoid hearing Finwe reassure him that he was familiar and cozy #(and he was in love with Earwen and such but there's no reason they couldn't have waited a decade if he'd wanted to)#one day late but happy father's day ;)#not archived yet

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innaminitus · 5 years

Text

Italian nights #2

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Request: I had this idea for a fic with Loki based on Blank Space by Taylor Swift where reader like the song in front of other people because she’s crazy and manipulative and seductive and goes through a ton if men but Loki learns she’s super anxious and sensitive in private??? Idk if that works, and it’s up to you if you wanna add smut (from @psycho-on-thephone)

Warnings: part 2/2, language, smut

Word count: 2799

A/N: I decided to stay with Taylor Swift for this fic. Was thinking about getaway car but that would’ve been too savage. Anyways, it’s 3am and I’m posting instead of sleeping

Gorgeous

Loki was watching you sway your hips to the music. You tried to sing along, but didn’t know the words and kept laughing at yourself, peaking at him from time to time to make sure his eyes were still on you.

Whiskey in his glass warmed him enough to care a little less about the worries of the world, your bare legs did the rest. You were not wearing any shoes, your feet moved on the sand as if it was the softest carpet when you joined other people’s dances.

You accidentally found a beach party organized by a hotel or a club and decided to join.

Your little agreement seemed to work. You’ve spent majority of the time together, he managed to be your distraction from whatever demons you needed to hide from. He enjoyed your company more than he would admit. There was something… mesmerizing about you. About how different you acted when you were among other people and when you were just with him. You were like two sides of the coin, and yet he somehow adored both of your faces. The crazy one, daring, the one that liked to drink and kiss was fun to spend time with, but it was your calm side, the one that wasn’t afraid to show vulnerability and calmness was the side he enjoyed most. He didn’t know why you decided to trust him with your feelings, but he was happy you did.

He could show claws thanks to you as well.

“I would gladly spank that ass of hers,” said a man on the barstool next to Loki, who turned to face him. He was watching you as well. “Bet she would enjoy every minute of it.”

Blood boiled in Loki, but he managed to not kill the man on the spot.

“You think?” The god raised his brow and his eyes were back on your body. You were smiling at some man, then at another, but not giving them much attention.

“One look at a girl and I know what she needs, believe me, dude. And this one here needs some good spanking…” He took a big gulp of beer and continued to follow you lustfully with his sight.

Loki forced himself to keep calm. No need to start a fight because of it. Yet.

“Why don’t you go and try your luck, then?”

The man laughed and shook his head.

“Maybe I should!”

You caught Loki’s sight, discretely asking you to come to him. You excused a girl you were dancing with and with a smile that made his insides twirl slowly walked to him.

He greeted you with a smirk, and ignoring the man next to him guided you to straddle his lap.

“My queen,” he murmured in your neck.

It took you just a mere second to pick up his game and your smile widened.

“My king…” You kissed his lips gently.

“Fuck, I am-“ The man next to you stuttered and Loki broke the kiss.

“What were you saying about my girl? Ah, yes. That she needs a good spanking,” he said as calmly as he could and you raised your eyebrow before turning to the man.

“Kinky,” your voice was almost erotic and Loki shivered at the sound of it. “You want to do it to me?” You reached and with your finger traced the hem of the collar of the man’s polo shirt. His eyes were slightly widened, he was drunk enough to think you were serious and was now thinking either about escaping this situation without a black eye or about you in his bed. Loki didn’t want to know if it was the latter. “You want to spank me, solider? Till my ass is nice and red for you?”

He couldn’t bare it. He didn’t want you to talk like that to any man that wasn’t him.

“Like hell I do,” the man said eagerly, completely ignoring the fact that you were on Loki’s lap.

It wasn’t even a second when you reached under your dress, to the thigh holster and pulled out freshly polished Colt King Cobra, aiming it at the man’s head.

His eyes widened in terror, he suddenly got as pale as a dead man. Somehow no one noticed that you were holding a revolver yet. Loki couldn’t hold a laugh at your mad action.

“Have some respect for woman around you, pervert. You never know if they aren’t able to kill you.” You smiled at him sweetly and reloaded.

“I think the lady wants you to apologize.” Loki smiled as well, although his smile wasn’t as pleasant as yours.

“I’m- I’m sorry!” The man cried, looking around for any help. Loki knew you didn’t have much more time to play anymore.

“Do you promise you won’t do it again?” Your voice sounded as if you were talking to a child.

“Yes! I promise!”

A single gasp somewhere near made you blow a kiss at the man, hide your colt and get off Loki.

“I’m bored of this party. Let’s go somewhere else.” You took his hand and dragged him with you.

You should think about the consequence

Of your magnetic field being a little too strong

You still held his hand even when no one could see you. You needed to feel that something was keeping you on the ground.

For a second you really thought you were going to pull the trigger. You’ve done it so many times before, it was as natural for you as breathing. Shooting unpleasant guys in unpleasant situations.

You needed cold shower.

You weren’t sure what made you mad more; the man’s comment or reaction of your body when Loki called you his queen. Your stomach jumped, every inch of you wanted to hold him and kiss him. It wasn’t what you’ve signed for. You wanted distraction, someone who would keep your mind busy for more than just a few hours or one night, maybe friendship. Not this sick affection you felt. Not the need to touch him, to have him for yourself. You were scared about coming back to the States, to a normal life he wasn’t a part of.

You walked in silence along the beach, soon finding yourselves completely alone, far from loud music and laughs.

“I want to swim,” you said suddenly, stopping and locking your eyes on the sea. “With you.”

A day. You only had a day more with him.

You didn’t look at him when he walked behind you and with gentleness untied the strings holding your light, black dress. You pretended you didn’t shiver at his touch when he slid the straps down your shoulders and moved his hands along your body, releasing you from the dress. His fingers undid the belts of your holster and it was soon on the ground as well, leaving you only in your swimming suit.

You wanted it gone, too. You wanted him to take it off with his teeth, kissing his way along your body. But when you turned to him, he wasn’t looking at you. He was watching the calm waves.

And I'm so furious

At you for making me feel this way

He couldn’t look at you, not when you were almost naked, bare to his sight and no one else’s. He wasn’t sure he would be able to control himself.

You gently tugged on his shirt, forcing him to look at you. Your gorgeous eyes were locked on him, your fingers wrapped around the fabric.

“Are you going to swim in your clothes?” You asked, your voice sounded somehow insecure.

It amazed him how quickly you could change from psycho with a gun at a man’s head to an anxious girl, uncertain about her own being. He didn’t mind it. Not when he knew who you really were.

With two moves Loki’s shirt and trousers were on the sand.

“Come, then,” he said silently, not being able to take his eyes off of you once he laid them on your body.

You smiled slightly and nodded, turning around to take a few steps and walk into the water. He let himself enjoy the view of your almost naked body in movement before following you with a sigh. The water was warm, even though it was the middle of the night. You walked until the water was reaching your elbows and suddenly stopped, your fingers created elaborate patterns on the calm surface of the sea. Ha came closer, to see your face. Your jollity disappeared, evaporated into thin air.

Was it because of the man? Or did he do something wrong?

“Y/N?” His voice wasn’t any louder than a whisper.

You only snuffled as if you were about to cry. He’s never seen you cry, not from the confusing emotions boiling inside of you.

Loki took a deep breath and stepped in front of you and insecurely took your face in his hands, making you look at him.

“What’s wrong?”

And you should think about the consequence

Of you touching my hand in a darkened room

Easier question would’ve been what’s not wrong. His stupid, ridiculously beautiful face was right there before you, and you weren’t sure whether you wanted to kiss him or slap for making you want him.

You felt hot, shameless lust whenever he was so close to you. Your heart ached unbelievably every time you pretended to be his, because you wanted, no, you needed to be real or else you would rip yourself in two. But you were sure it was just the agreement for him. A handshake. You wished you never approached him, never interrupted that girl who was flirting with him. Maybe it would’ve been her problem now. The pain in chest.

You never thought of yourself as of somebody actually able to love anyone, not in a healthy way. You were possessive and manipulative. No one deserved that. You didn’t deserve anyone.

That’s why you just shook your head and smiled at him.

“Everything’s perfect,” you lied.

He raised his eyebrow at you.

“No, it’s not.” He stepped closer. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

You shut your eyes. Opened your eyes. Clenched your jaw. Relaxed your jaw.

No words were able to form sensible sentence.

You released yourself from his hands, placed yours on his shoulders and pulled him closer. Your lips fell on his, tongue forced its way into his mouth. It wasn’t a good kiss, your teeth hit his, but after a second you pulled away.

“That’s what’s wrong,” you gasped, shocked at your own actions. Psycho. “I can’t stay away from you. I want you.”

His breathing was heavy when he watched your face with disbelief painted on his face. He didn’t want you back.

“Y/N-“

“No, don’t say anything.” You shook your head. “This can never work. Not with my sick personality, and-“

“Oh, shut up.”

You couldn’t stop him and, to be honest, you didn’t want to. He kissed you, gentler than you kissed him, more passionate. You almost melted under his touch when he lifted you up without breaking the kiss and walked out of the water, his tongue dancing along with yours as he did so.

He muttered odd words that sounded like Norse and suddenly you were surrounded by a green light, at what you clung onto his wet body harder.

When the light disappeared, the sound of waves was also gone. You pulled away and looked around. You were in your hotel room.

“How did you…?” You didn’t manage to say anything more, because he pushed you on the bed and shut your mouth with his lips.

“Just an old trick.” He smiled and continued to leave a trace of wet kisses along your neck and collarbone.

He slowly slid both straps of your bikini bra before undoing it on your back.

“Loki…?” You panted silently when your nipple ended up in between his lips, tongue caressing the sensitive bud.

He lifted himself a little to look at your face, concerned.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Ocean blue eyes looking in mine

I feel like I might sink and drown and die

His eyes were locked on yours and you were close to the edge of a breakdown. How could he want you?

“Skip the foreplay,” you asked quietly. “I need to feel you.”

You wanted him so badly, even if it was just for a night. Quickly, before he changes his mind and realizes how broken you are.

He rested his forearms on the sides of your head and kissed you sweetly. Why did it felt so real when it certainly was a dream?

“I don’t want to just fuck you like the other men, Y/N,” he said and pressed his lips onto yours again. “I want to make love to you. Let me…”

You shook your head, a tear you weren’t able to hold back anymore rolled down your cheek.

“You can’t want me,” you sobbed. “You can’t.”

“Stop telling me what I can. I want you. The real you, not the girl you pose to be.” He kissed the tear away. “Let me put the broken pieces together.”

You couldn’t say anything, you just wrapped your arms around him and pulled him to kiss. His lips fitted on yours perfectly, his hot kisses warmed your body.

“Please,” you sighed again. “Please, just fill me whole.”

He kissed your neck and with a flick of his fingers the rest of your clothes were gone. Nothing was separating you anymore, your burning skin touched his and when he parted your legs to line himself with your entrance you were already lost for him.

You didn’t want these feelings. You wanted them gone, to rip your heart and throw it into the sea.

He pushed himself inside you and you moaned loudly, completing his sigh.

And you are so gorgeous it makes me so mad

You make me so happy it turns back to sad

You clenched around him so perfectly he shivered and almost lost control over his arms, nearly falling onto you. Delicious sounds of your pleasure filled his ears when he slowly pulled out only to equally slowly push himself deep in. He didn’t want to take you fast, not this time at last. He wanted to take his time with you, to cherish every inch of your gorgeous body, but you didn’t want him to.

Did you felt the same way he felt about you?

Your hips gritted against him, hurrying him. He did as you asked, quickened the pace and moaned into your lips at the feeling of your wet, warm pussy clenching around him. Your fingernails left red marks on his back as he slid his hand in between your bodies and began to rub circles on your clit.

You squirmed under him, the sound only turning him on even more.

But you didn’t want him. You made it clear. You only wanted sex, after he so thoughtfully helped you avoid strangers in bed.

There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

And you are so gorgeous it makes me so mad

The pleasure was overwhelming, Loki’s lips on yours swallowed every sound you made. His thrusts reached deep inside of you and your ecstasy was close, closer than you could imagine.

This isn’t love, you kept saying to yourself. This is just pure lust.

Another pretty lies.

You couldn’t bare it anymore; the pleasure surrounded you like the water you were just in, floated violently into you, making you cry.

Loki was just behind you, groaned onto your neck and, shaking, spilled himself inside of you, warmth of his cum helping you ride down your orgasm.

He was heavy breathing when he pulled out and collapsed next to you.

You didn’t know what to say.

He did.

“I love you,” he spat out as if it was an insult. “I love you, but I can’t be with you if you only want sex.” He turned to you and grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him. “Let me take care of you.”

He loved you.

“I am-“

“If you are going to say you are too broken for a relationship, cut the crap. I keep saying to you that I love you. Not the mask you put on every day. You.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks. If he was being sincere, this could actually work…

“Can you fix me?” You asked silently, his hands now gently cupped your face as he placed a loving kiss on your lips.

“There is nothing to fix.” He shook his head. “You have to let yourself love somebody again. Love me.”

You nodded, somehow believing every word he said.

“I love you.”

But what can I say?

You're gorgeous

#loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki #tom hiddleston #loki smut #loki imagine #avengers #marvel

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padfootagain · 5 years

Text

Stranded (II)

Part 2 : Lifetimes

Here's part 2 for my first Obi-Wan fic! Hope you like it! Do you want me to do a part three? Then tell me :D If I have enough people wanting me to write more, I'll make one last part.

Gif not mine

Word Count: 3671

Night had fallen on Hoth, and with it, the temperatures. The drop was starting to seriously worry you. You had a vest on, and a pair of leather boots and trousers, but your clothes were hardly warm enough to protect you from such cold. Your teeth were chattering, you had wrapped your arms around your legs in an attempt to keep as much heat as you could, but it was far from enough to keep you warm. By now, you could barely feel your hands and feet as you forced your fingers and toes to move.

Once again, for what seemed to be the hundredth time, really, you passed your fingers before Obi-Wan’s lips to check if he was still breathing. But you felt the burning warmth against your fingers, and you heaved a relieved sigh.

For how long had you been stuck in that cave, you have no clue. You quickly gave up trying to keep a count on the flying minutes. And as the light from outside was entirely blocked by the fallen rocks, you couldn’t use the sun as a marker either. Only the change of temperature made you guess that it was night-time now, but you couldn’t be sure of anything.

"It’s getting colder, isn’t it?"

Obi-Wan’s voice made you jump, bringing you back to reality. You slowly nodded.

"It must be night," you told him. "I just hope it won’t get any colder."

He sat up, his movements slow, but he shook his head when you tried to argue against it.

"I feel better," he explained, although you weren't sure if he meant his words or was simply trying to reassure you.

He reached for your hands, and winced at how cold they were.

"You're so cold…"

He moved closer to you, until he could wrap his brown Jedi cloak around your two frames. He moved an arm around your shoulders, and you leaned into his embrace without any resistance. You couldn't help it… the way you noticed how easy it was for you to fit in his arms…

If only he weren't a Jedi, and you weren't a Senator. If only there wasn't a war raging on. If only you had met in different lives… Or perhaps you had. And perhaps you had shared one or a million happy lifetimes together, but this time, it was a destiny apart that was set for you.

You couldn't help but smile at your own silliness. What could even make you think that he felt the same?

He wrapped his hands around yours again, protecting you from the cold. His fingers were still stained with the red traces of dry blood, but you ignored that detail, just like he did. Slowly, softly, delicately, his thumbs brushed against your knuckles, and the touch made your heart shake. You let your eyes close.

You wanted to remember this. This… this was the closest you would be to him, you guessed so at least. And you wanted to take this memory with you when you both escaped this cave.

The way his calloused hands brushed against yours, the warmth of his frame passing through you, his arm holding you against him, the rhythm of his chest rising and falling with each breath he took and let out, the warm air that left his parted lips only to brush against your hair…

If only this could last forever.

You both remained motionless but for Obi-Wan's brushing fingers for a long while. Your breaths through the frozen air drew crazy patterns before your faces. The plants all around you were still the only source of light, lighting up the passage just enough for you to see the opposite wall.

And the temperature continued its fall…

"You're shaking," Obi-Wan let out in a breath, and his remark finally made you realize your own movements.

"I'm… I'm still so… so cold," you stuttered through chattering teeth.

He tightened his hold on you, but he was shaking as well. His strengths were waning more and more every second that flew by, he felt dizzy. He was losing focus all over again. And he knew you could feel it in the way he held you. He didn't mind though.

No news from Anakin for now. And although Obi-Wan didn't doubt for a second that his friend would find him, the question that remained was: would he found the two of you in time, or would the cold have killed you by then?

Obi-Wan kept on looking for a plan, a way out, some trick to warm you up, but there was no idea crossing his mind. None that would work at least. He was too weak to fight any droids. He was probably even too weak to move these stones away from the entrance… Would your chances of survival be higher in the wreckage than here? He wasn't sure…

He looked at your trembling lips that were slowly turning bluish. He tried to figure out in which direction his instincts were guiding his path. But as he rested his eyes upon you once more, it was pretty clear that he would have done anything to keep you safe.

There was nothing to protect you from the cold in that cave. Nothing could make the situation better in here. He couldn't sense any droids or lifeforms beyond the wall. It seemed pretty safe to go out again. He would probably lose his last strengths in moving these stones away, but he might succeed. And if you stayed, this cave might turn into your tomb…

It was worth a try.

He lifted his hand towards the stones and tried to focus as much as he could, but managed only to make the rocks tremble at his first attempt, none of them moved.

You looked up at him with eyes full of questions.

"What are you doing?"

"You might have more chances if you stay in the ship for the night. You can find blankets and other supplies to keep you warm there."

"Can you walk back to the ship?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Of course, it matters!"

"It's the middle of the night. After that trick of ours, the droids will probably not be sending another wave before sunrise, they will suffer from the cold too. You can find a better shelter in the ship. You won't need my protection for the night. And anyway, you're taking my lightsaber with you. You seem to be good at wielding it."

"I'm not going anywhere without you."

"You won't be needing me, but you need to get better protection from the cold."

"Of course, I need you."

"My mission is to make sure that you reach Coruscant alive, and I intend to complete my mission. Now, just do as I say, please."

You moved away from his arms, the air coming between the two of you right where the other was a second before making you both shiver.

"I am not leaving you here."

"You must."

"I won't do it."

"Look… Senator Y/LN, you have to trust me on this."

"Of course, I trust you, General. That's not the point!"

You had started to raise your voice, and he followed your lead without even noticing, until it was too late and he couldn't go back in time to erase the anger in his voice.

"Then get out of here. It's too cold, we won't make it through the night!"

"I won't leave you behind! We either both go or we both stay!"

He heaved a sigh. A sadder expression formed on his features, but a calmer one as well. When he spoke again, his tone was once more soft, almost delicate.

"I can't stand, Y/N. You have to go to the ship and find a place to take cover."

"What if I come back here with blankets?"

"It will be too cold in the open, you won't be able to make the journey back."

"How can you know that?"

"I know. I just do."

"Well then, it's settled. I'm staying here."

"Have you not listened to a single word I've just said?"

"You're the one who doesn't seem to understand my decision, here, Kenobi!"

"You must save yourself!"

You shook you head, but didn't reply as he opened his mouth to speak again. You waited for him to break the silence around you again, but he didn't. Not right away. Instead, you heard the roaring wind from outside echoing through the cave.

His expression changed so quickly in just a few seconds. First, he was worried, almost afraid. Then he was sad. And finally, he was wearing this stern mask again.

"Your work at the Senate is vital to the Republic. You must do whatever it takes to survive through the night."

His tone was cold now. Blank. Did he really mean it? Was it everything you were to him then? A Senator? Not even a friend? You had known each other for years, and now… of course, you had never acted on your feelings, and of course you didn't see each other on a regular basis but you thought… you thought you were at least a friend to him.

He fled your gaze, bringing his blue eyes down to stare at the dusty ground. He couldn't lie to you while looking at your eyes. It was the only way to make you believe that he meant all these words of his. If he put distance between you and him, then perhaps you would listen to his plea and save yourself.

But seconds flew away and you remained silently staring at him. And after a while, he couldn't avoid your glance anymore. He forced his expression to remain blank as he looked up again.

He could see he had failed though. He could read it in your eyes. You did doubt him now, but your will to stay had not faltered. This stubborn glim was still alit in your eyes.

"You don't mean that," you shook your head, your voice both defying and fragile, almost breaking and yet passionate.

He heaved yet another sigh, and as he stared into your eyes, he knew there was no need for lies. If he was to convince you, it had to be through honesty instead.

"Y/N, you have to take your chance. For me. For many years now, we have been friends… and you have always trusted me. Trust me again, just one last time."

"But that's the thing, Obi. I can't let it be the last time."

There were tears shining in your eyes before you could control yourself. You sucked in a shaky breath. The mere thought that this could be the last time you saw him…

"The Force is with me," he gave you a sad smile. "Y/N, please…"

Slowly, his fingers rose to brush your cheek. The gasp you made… you were certain he heard it, but actually, he was too distracted by his own pounding heart to notice.

Your skin against his… he had dreamt about such a simple gesture. He had dreamt about it being allowed. He had wished for it to happen. He had wished for the knowledge of how it would feel to brush his thumb across your cheekbone. Such a tiny, simple gesture, and yet, it had accompanied his dreams for years now.

It might have been his last chance to know how it felt. So, for once, he stopped worrying about the Jedi way. He stopped worrying about protocol. He stopped worrying about right and wrong and allowed and forbidden. Instead, he worried only about what his heart had desired for years, but that he had always refused for himself.

It was such a simple, innocent gesture, after all. Just a tiny touch. A caress. It barely felt like a breeze. He was dying, it seemed like a good last will…

"You have to save yourself. For me. Please, live for me."

A tear rolled down your cheek, and when he made a movement to move his hand away, you took it in your own, guiding his fingers back to your cheek, until his palm was set on your jaw and he was cupping your face.

"I could never live with myself if I left you here, Obi-Wan," you shook your head. "How could I live knowing that the prize to pay was your life? I can't do it. It's my life, and it should be my choice. And my choice is to stay with you. Obi-Wan, you… I…"

Your voice broke, and he brushed the tear away from your cheek.

Before he could react, you had buried your face in his shoulder, and were holding on his shirt as if your life depended on it.

"I can't leave you."

"You must…"

But you shook your head, your tears falling by now and wetting his beige shirt.

"I love you too much to let you die."

A whisper. Barely a breath. Just a sound he could have missed but by some miracle, he didn't. Just a few words, but how meaningful they were…

Was he right though? Was it all real? Or was he losing sight of the line between reality and illusions because of his wound?

But suddenly there was a crazy hope alit in his heart. He should have felt guilty for it. The Jedi in him should have pushed the feeling away. But who was he to push away love forever? At the end of the day, he was but a human, flawed and incomplete, and if you were his weakness, then what a beautiful weakness he had…

He wrapped his arms around you at last, holding you against him, closing his eyes, memorizing this moment. He wanted to be able to remember this feeling… even if it was just to remember it as he drew his last breath. Actually, it made the perfect last thought. The weight of your body leaning against his, your warmth spreading across his chest and arms, your breath warming his shoulder, the softness of your hair…

He couldn't help but notice how perfectly he fitted into your embrace.

He took a deep breath, tightening his hold on you a little. His head was spinning all of a sudden. How much time did he have left before he would fall to unconsciousness again? He had to say it… he had longed to say it for so long.

He pressed his lips to your ear, his beard tickling you in a way that made your heart beat even more frantically.

"But I love you too much to let you die too."

You pulled away suddenly, just enough to be able to look at his eyes. Searching for an answer, you stared right into his soul. Was it true? Had you heard him right? Was it all real, or just your mind playing tricks on you in this desperate hour?

But you read the answer in his gentle smile, in the fondness on his features as he looked back at you, at the soft glimmer in his eyes that told you he found you the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. He did mean it. He meant it, every word of it…

You ran your hand through his beard and up his jawline, across his cheek and up to let your fingers disappear in his hair that partly fell before his eyes. He melted under your touch.

"It's my life," you shook your head, and there was such determination in your eyes, the battle to change your mind was definitely lost. "I am the one to choose how to use it. And I would rather die tonight by your side than have to live a hundred more years without you."

You noticed the gasp he took, and how hard it was for him to breathe. He seemed to think for a moment, but eventually, a smile formed on his face.

"You really are the most stubborn woman I have ever met, you know?"

You both let out a chuckle, before you finally bent to this urge of yours. How many times had you stopped yourself right at this moment, backed away and pretended like the connection had never happened? You had lost count long ago. You would not try to count any longer. You were ready to bring back that count to zero.

You cupped his cheek and crushed your lips to his. And at first you didn't think he would kiss you back, and you were almost okay with it. He was a Jedi, after all.

But then, his hands moved to hold your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, and when he did kiss you as well, you were certain to have found heaven.

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

Anakin checked the radar in his hand again. The wreckage was close…

In the sky, the sun was slowly rising with the dawn, painting the heavens with golden shades. The cold was vivid, biting at his cheeks. The wind was deafening. It was such an unhospitable planet…

"Master! There!"

He turned towards his Padawan, and followed the direction she was pointing at. Indeed, he could guess the shape of a stranded ship under the snow.

"Come on, Snips!" he urged Ahsoka as he started to run towards the wreckage.

It had taken longer than he had planned for him to find Obi-Wan's crashing site. The snow made it difficult to spot the signs.

He had not encountered any droids on his way to the ship, and he wondered if they had given up on you and his former master. He hoped so, at least…

But most of all, he hoped he wouldn't be too late.

He and Ahsoka explored the carcass of the ship, but there was not much left. Distorted and melted metal. Cut and burnt wires. Traces of flames and pieces of your droid. Only broken things and traces of a violent end. The smell of ashes still lingered in the cockpit.

The young Togruta found the signs of medical supplies being taken away as well, and Anakin soon found the traces of blood Obi-Wan had left in his wake. They followed the traces out of the ship but snow had covered the rest of the tracks. He cursed under his breath, reaching for the commlink on his wrist.

"Obi-Wan, can you hear me? We're at the ship, where are you?"

But he was met with only silence.

"Obi-Wan!"

Again, no voice answered, only the roaring wind.

"Didn't Master Kenobi speak of a cave?" Ahsoka thought out loud. "And if he was wounded, they couldn't have gone far."

"You're right, Snips. Let's move on. Keep your eyes open."

They advanced through the snow, looking across the white and dark surface of the cliffs in search of a cave or any kind of crevasse. The wind didn't carry snow, but it was icy temperature was enough to make it difficult for the two Jedi to keep their eyes open. Anakin felt like it was cutting his cheeks open. The strength of the raging squalls was impending their movements, coupled to the thick layer of snow that sometimes was up to their knees, it was greatly slowing their pace.

It lasted for only a few minutes, but to both of them, it felt like an eternity. Until finally, Anakin spotted the entrance of the cave. And somehow, he knew Obi-Wan was inside.

"There!" he cried at Ahsoka as he ran towards the dark hole in the cliff.

As he stepped inside sliding a little over the icy ground, he took in the sight of the battle that had been raging on, before noticing the fallen stones that seemed to block the way…

He didn't think and merely rushed to the rocks, starting to dig.

"Snips! Help me out!"

But Ahsoka was already by his side, pushing the stones and the debris of droids away as well. And eventually, they broke through.

You were both sitting against the wall, your arms around each other and Obi-Wan's cloak wrapped around your frames. You seemed both unconscious.

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin called, hurrying by the Jedi's side and softly shaking him. "Obi-Wan!"

A few seconds passed, and for a moment, Anakin thought of the worst. That was it. He was too late. Once again, he was too late to save someone he loved…

But Obi-Wan's eyes finally flickered and opened, and Anakin and Ahsoka couldn't refrain a relieved sigh.

"Anakin…"

His voice was hoarse, low, barely audible, and yet it was such a comforting sound.

"Anakin, how come you're always late?"

They all let out a chuckle.

"That's because you always invite me at the last minute."

You stirred in Obi-Wan's arms, and finally opened your eyes as well. As you realized that rescue had arrived, you finally moved away from him, and Ahsoka helped you to your feet and then to walk while Anakin was taking care of Obi-Wan.

The walk back to their ship should have been rather quick, but both Obi-Wan and you were too exhausted to move fast.

But eventually, you reached the starship, and you both lied down on two benches separated by barely a meter.

"We'll soon be out of here, hang on," Ahsoka reassured you, before following her Master and R2 inside the cockpit to take off.

Obi-Wan and you looked at each other for the first time since you had lost consciousness together the previous night.

And slowly, he reached for your hand.

And slowly, you reached for his.

Was this story forbidden? Undoubtedly. Were your duties incompatible? Society seemed to think so. Was it a good idea to go against institutions and rules to be together? Wisdom would have you answering that it wasn't.

But did you love him? With all your heart. And did he love you? With all his might. And you didn't want this life to be one of these lives where you and him couldn't love each other.

Maybe for once, it could be enough. At least, for this moment...

********************************

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realityhelixcreates · 4 years

Text

The Saga Begins (And She Doesn’t Stop)

Chapters: 44/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: None Relationships: Loki x Reader (Someday) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Loki Is Really Starting To Lean Into Those Fantasies, You Really Want To Attend An Avengers Party, No Ulterior Motives, None at all, Phil 2 Will Not Start Singing Anytime Soon I Promise, Summary: You gain a new teacher, Loki gains a new anxiety.

Loki held your hand in one of his, the other on the small of your back, steadying you as you walked slowly across the room. Standing no longer made you as dizzy, but if you moved to fast, your head still spun, and Loki was not willing to let you fall again.

He hadn't really wanted to allow you out of your chair yet, but you had heard that Thor was throwing a bash for his friends, and there was no way you were being consigned to your room, or stuck in a chair, while there was an entire Avengers party going on.

You definitely didn't want any of them seeing you like this. You still checked in once a week, and each one you talked to-Captain America, Falcon, a young lady with an accent you couldn't place and who didn't bother to introduce herself, even Doctor Banner once-they all held your situation in negative regard. There were plenty of questions about your treatment and your captor. Nobody had a gentle word for Loki. The kindest had been Banner who had told you Loki was a 'bag of cats', but had bid you luck in 'finding the kitten'.

You couldn't let them know an Asgardian had injured you. Who knew how they might take it?

So you walked until you simply couldn't anymore, and Loki had led you back to your chair, showering you with gentle praises for your strength and perseverance.

Today he had magicked you into more modest clothing, the kind you had started considering 'normal'. A deep, blue-green dress, hemmed with ribbon woven with black and yellow chevrons. Tan apron overdress, embroidered with horned snakes and the phases of the moon. Warm, soft felt trousers underneath, comfortable padded slippers. The domed brooches on your shoulder straps were fancy today, with curling dragon patterns, and strings of gold and pearl beads to hang your little trinkets from.

You'd found out from Saldis during one of your baths, that the clothes you wore were Asgardian versions of attire once found on Earth. The clothiers who worked in the palace had only very old book illustrations to go off of, and did not know that humans didn't wear these things anymore; Asgardian fashion moved and changed far slower than Earth fashion did. They'd been trying to make you clothes that would help you feel comfortable, as a guest of the king.

That was actually pretty thoughtful of them, you thought. And you'd told Saldis that the humans out in the believer's camp wore dresses like this, or at least some of them did. It was a process known as reconstruction, where modern humans tried to bring parts of the ways of humans from generations past into their own lives. Some did it in little ways, like learning an ancient language, and reading texts those people left behind, if any. Some did it in big ways, like trying to live entirely like they did. Others participated in reenactment, where they lived, dressed, and acted as people from times past, but only for a little while every week or month, then went back to their regular jobs and homes.

“So it's not all that unusual for me to wear clothes like that, I guess, since the last humans who interacted with Asgardians in any numbers were all wearing them. And the people out in the camp are probably trying to get in touch with the thoughts and feelings of those people.”

“Can you tell me about them?” Saldis had asked you. “I never get close enough to the gates to see them, and obviously, they aren't allowed in.”

“Well, I was only out there for a short time, but they aren't all that different from me.” You said. “They come from different countries, and they feel a connection to the Aesir. Some of them worship them, some of them came to study, I'm pretty sure. Some probably came just to be a part of all this.”

“All this?”

You gestured around you. “A whole new alien species, now permanently residing on Earth. We're a really isolated species, you know? We didn't know for sure there were other people out there until, like seven years ago. And we haven't shared the planet with another intelligent species for tens of thousands of years at least, and that was just another species of human.”

“There were more than one kind of human?” Saldis exclaimed excitedly, prompting you to explain the human family tree to the best of your ability. She left vowing to find more books on the subject.

When you had been dressed and finished with your exercises, Loki wheeled you out into the palace complex, Andsvarr following close behind.

“Since we cannot practice magic or self-defense today, I will be leaving you in the library with a new teacher.” He informed you. “She has a 'Seidkona Express' curriculum laid out for you, or so she tells me.”

Once in the library, he took you to a smaller room that held even more library. The books here looked especially old and important. Some were made of metal, their covers crusted in gems and pearls, some were scrolls inside climate controlled cases, and some were no more than clay or stone tablets. There were even a few staves of weathered wood, carved all over with foreign symbols.

Obviously, you would be keeping your hands and feet inside your ride the whole time. There was no way you were allowed to touch anything in here. Some of these things might be older than the entire human race.

What a thing to realize: that there might have been some people writing epics, even before yours had figured out how to bash two rocks together.

There were a handful of ladies in the Special Library, all beautiful, dressed and coiffed very similarly to the unfinished murals of the Queen. They were all very friendly with Loki, and somewhat less reverent than most of the other palace workers.

You couldn't help but to side-eye him a little. Loki didn't seem like a philanderer, but that didn't mean that he had no history, and it definitely didn't mean that he didn't get around at least a little.

To think that one of these ladies-or more!-could be a former flame...or even potentially a current one...It made you feel strangely bitter. You held it back from showing though, after all, it wasn't like it was any of these ladies' fault that you'd gotten spoiled by being the sole recipient of all of his attention for all these months.

At least, you thought you were. But there were times when the two of you were apart, and who knew what he was up to then?

It was none of your business.

“Oh, you've finally brought her!” One of them exclaimed in perfect American English, startling you. She didn't even speak with the vague accent Loki and the King used when speaking; it was like hearing one of your old neighbors. She even had the very slight Midwestern drawl you were used to.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, dear! Loki has kept you away for way too long, especially for a new Seidkona trainee! My, it's been ages since we had one. My name is Saga, and I am going to be teaching you about the history of Asgardian law for the next little while.”

“Saga is an Aesir.” Loki explained. “All of them are, actually. These ladies all used to be my mother's handmaidens, and are an elite force of stored knowledge. They will be able to teach you all of the things-”

“-That he hasn't got the patience for.” Saga finished. Loki pursed his lips in slight annoyance.

“She also will not hesitate to sass anyone who crosses her path.”

“I like her already.” You proclaimed.

“Of course you do.” He grumbled, but patted you softly on the shoulder before leaving you there.

“Now,” Saga began. “I have several translated manuscripts of law declarations made by our kings. Let's read and discuss the history and reasons behind them, starting with Allfather Buri's Declaration of Sovereignty Over Nornheim...”

*****

Loki arranged foodstuffs on a platter: dark bread, a pot of jam, cold sliced lamb, and a cup of skyr. You would be in lessons for several hours at least and, knowing Saga, potentially quite a bit longer than that. You would need something to eat, and it would be a good excuse to check in on you.

And to make sure Saga was teaching you to be as subversive as a good Seidkona should be.

Buridag would be coming soon enough, and he could not wait to pin the cloak of office to your shoulders. A powerful message would be sent that day, many centuries of tradition would be broken. But it needed to happen, and if something needed to be broken, he was the ideal candidate. Things would change, even if he had to shove them through with a battering ram.

And you, so important, so central to it all...and he didn't think you really understood how vital you were. You still had a shy streak, a deep down belief in the bedrock of your being that you were somehow not worthy of what was happening to you...Well. Loki understood that feeling implicitly, but he did not know how to alleviate it in you. Loki had been through every possible stage of life and death, but relating to the feelings of others was still sometimes difficult for him.

He felt as though he could not court you properly, though, until you had removed that self doubt, and accepted your worth. If there was anything he could do to help, he would, without hesitation.

He also felt that it was becoming important for him to get to the bottom of the strange, quasi-real dreams you were sharing. It seemed to him that they were becoming more frequent. It seemed also, that something that should be within his grasp was being purposefully kept out of it, which was frustrating. There were many clues before him, and he either was not seeing them, or he was not connecting them.

He knew he was close, dancing right on the edge, which frustrated him all the more.

“My prince.” An errand runner approached him, breaking his train of thought. “There is a Midgardian man at the north gate who says he has come from Reykjavik. He says he is with Íslandspóstur, and that he has a package for your Seidkona. Well, he did not call her that, but that is who he meant, my prince.”

“Is that so?” Loki asked suspiciously. “She is not available. I shall see to it. Andsvarr, please take this tray to the library. I shall be away for a short time.”

He dismissed the errand runner and stalked through the half finished streets all the way to the north gate. The person waiting there was certainly dressed as a postman, in his red and black, although that was not a difficult uniform to procure. He waited anxiously, being heckled by a group of nearby protesters. When he noticed that it was Loki coming to greet him, his anxiety seemed to skyrocket; he couldn't wait to be rid of the package-a large, light, very taped up box, signed by Tara Miller, your irritating friend.

Loki took the package and let the postman escape with haste. They would have checked it for dangerous things, such as explosives or venomous animals, but he was going to check it again, in the safety of his chambers.

He took a different route back, stumbling across a road crew whose work had ground to a halt.

“Is there a problem here?” He asked, as the supervisor rushed up to him with relief washing over his face.

“Your Highness! Perhaps you can put to rest a disagreement we are having, if it does not waste too much of your time.”

“There is little of more importance to a city than it's roads.” Loki said. “Tell me of your problem.”

“It's this bloody great stone.” The supervisor pointed to a large boulder, jutting out of the dirt. “Those Midgardian fellows are very odd about their rocks and hills; they refuse to muck about with them, and they don't even break them or build over them. They advise us not to either, but this one is right in the middle of the road.

Now, I know we're not Midgardian,” He continued. “But I want to stay on their good side, since they're trying to help us out. So we're having a bit of a debate as to whether we should just smash the thing and incorporate the rubble into the road, and leave the Midgardians none the wiser, or if we should respect their superstitions and try to move the thing whole, out of the city, or into some courtyard somewhere.”

“I see. I suppose there is nothing wrong with not wanting to offend our allies. If you can move it, do so.”

“Thank you your Highness.” The supervisor said, turning back to his crew. “You heard him! No more debating now, we dig it out and move it!”

The workers approached the stone with shovels and levers, Loki leaving them to their job. Funny, the things that seemed to require a Royal Opinion.

Far down the road, almost out of earshot, Loki heard the crack of breaking stone, and rolled his eyes. At least they had tried.

*****

Loki set the large box down on the sheepskin rug, in front of the fireplace. Knife in hand, ready to throw the entire thing into the flames if he had to, he slit the heavy wrapping of tape, and peered inside.

Loki was not inclined to feel guilt over going through someone's mail, especially not where your safety was concerned. Just because it was signed by your friend, did not mean that it really came from her.

There was a bright green, stuffed...creature, that did not resemble any earthly creature he knew of, which he checked for hidden dangers. It proved to be free of needles or poisons, or secret compartments, so he set it on the 'safe' side. There were several packets of snacks, which he set on the 'unsafe' side, to be sent to Bjarkhild for checking. There were several books, which he checked for hidden razors or pins, and of course, more poison. A tiny USB labeled “Music”. A knitted throw blanket. A few of what must have been your favorite articles of clothing and jewelry, all of it ratty and cheap.

Within another box was a very carefully wrapped leaf, large and variegated, its thick stem enclosed withing a vial of water. New roots were already growing. It was labeled “Phil 2: Electric Boogaloo”, a reference he did not understand, though he did remember you speaking of a cherished houseplant you had named Phil. This must be its offspring, a way to circumvent the extreme difficulty of shipping an entire live plant of the size you had indicated.

Beneath it all was a collection of papers, mostly keepsakes from the places you had visited with Tara, as well as a diploma from some place known as a 'High School'. Odd. You had told him that you had not been able to receive higher education, yet here was proof that you had not just attended, but graduated from a High School. Maybe there was a school that was even higher than that. A Greater or Grand School, perhaps.

Beneath that, were the calendars. THE Calendars. Tara had sent you all three, including the newest one. Loki hadn't even known it was available yet. There were still months to go before the Midgardian year ended.

Ugh. The calendars. How humiliating. He flipped the new one open, finding his picture on the month of November. How they had joked and teased each other, so friendly even though they were debasing themselves for money.

They had wanted him to put oil on his skin! He'd refused of course. If they wanted to glisten like sweaty, filthy, slime farmers, that was their prerogative; if he absolutely had to show skin like a trollop, then he wasn't going to do it like a common one.

They had eventually relented...then they had stuffed him into prisoner's clothes, opened them to the waist, tousled his hair, and handcuffed him to the prison bars! Everyone had had something scathing to say, some sly, insulting jest at his expense, their jeers bouncing off the walls.

After the photographers had gotten their shot, he'd snapped the cuffs with barely any effort, and had to be persuaded by his brother not to wreck the place.

He doubted he would be invited back for next year. He doubted he would want to go. But just imagine if there was a demand for it? A clamoring for pictures of Loki, outstripping even the desire for photos of the Noble Captain? The Playboy Philanthropist? Even his illustrious brother?

Did human women in fact, like a 'bad boy'?

Probably not.

Did you?

Definitely not, given the scoldings you had rained down on him.

But maybe...maybe if you came across him, in this particular situation; chained, unbuttoned, ostensibly helpless...what would you do? Would you help him out? Or would you 'help him out'?

He picked up one of the older calendars, idly flipping through as he floated on the thought of your sweet hands on his skin, right up until he noticed that for the months where Captain America was the feature, you had marked out all the days with hearts instead of crosses.

His heart sank in his chest, the reverie entirely broken.

#lasabrjotr #loki x reader #loki (marvel)

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littlemix-styleblog · 5 years

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Requested Little Mix Outfit Inspired For BlackPink Concert

Jade

New Look Blue Camo Pocket Utility Jeans: £27.99. So if your a avid follower of Little Mix, You would know Jade has a fetish for a certain pair of orange trousers. She`s worn them from Disneyland to Tanzania, to rehearsals to the Kids Choice Awards and you know what? I think she really likes them. They may be out of some peoples comfort zone or a bit too garish but when you want to make a statement you reach for these. Camo pants have taken off these last couple of years, Not because we all want to join the army but because they have become a fashion staple, Becoming trendy and modern. They have that edgy, Dynamic edge and you can wear them casually or for a assault course. Ideal for festivals so they are versatile and ideal for a Blackpink concert too..You can get them in a variety of colours too from Purple, Green and Grey.

Doc Martens: £130. In this post we have a variety of shoes to choose from, From chunky trainers to the heavier trainers to these boots. No question about it Jade loves her DMs. Together with this look you could combat the world. You don`t have too wear DMs, you can put some white/black trainers with this look too!.

PrettyLittleThing BLACK CREPE SPAGHETTI STRAP BANDEAU CROP TOP: £6. This bralet is all part of the layering process, Jade hasn`t really been seen wearing a bralet too many times...But looks can be deceiving because just seen what we would do with this top.

I Saw It First Black D Ring Slogan Tape Belt: £6. Now for those really into their fashion, you would know these belts have really taken off. Many dupes of the OFF WHITE yellow belt have been made and copied and you would find these everywhere. You can find them all in different colours and styles and patterns. These are a great belt for that added grunge effect, It gives a extra spark for your outfit. You can also buy this belt in yellow.

SkinnyDip HEARTBREAKER NECKLACE: £4. Not many of you are aware but Jade is known for her quirkyness, Which I personally love about her. So to fill any blank bits or for that extra bit of extraness we have added a necklace, You can get a variety of quirky necklaces from Skinnydip to choose from, from different quotes to phrases etc.

Bershka metallic cross body bag: £11.50. So initially I wanted a cool rockstar, edgy shoulder bag, We found one but it was out of stock and that was the only one I could find. We picked this one up because it`s quirky and it`s rainbow and we all know Jade loves rainbows. I can understand how you might think it`s for five year olds but it would liven up your outfit. But if you didn`t like that we understand, We also managed to pick up another bag with the Burberry pattern and again this could pass off as designer and is ideal for keeping the essentials safe. You can see it here

Black Crop T-shirt: Now we added this one because it`s a great way to layer. If you take a look back at the Summer Hits Tour last year, Jade wore a black cropped t-shirt just like this one with a bikini top underwear. This was the idea I was going for and it`s a perfect example of layering. Simply add the black bralet underneath (Or a different coloured one) and your good to go. Of course you don`t have to buy one, I couldn`t find any cropped t-shirts as small as this on the market so the easiest way to get one would be to buy a plain black t-shirt and cut it, Of course the ragged edges would make it look even more edgy.

Jesy

Look No.1

Topshop Bleach Flap Rip Mom Jeans: £42. Jesy has been really into the denim thing lately. She seems to love baggy boyfriend/Mom jeans and wears them down casually or dressed up. If you have a look back through her Instagram you will see she has worn mom jeans a lot on nights out or casually. You don`t have to go to a concert looking all glammed up to have a good time.

PrettyLittleThing WHITE JERSEY SQUARE NECK BRALET: £8. What`s also been happening lately is that Jesy has been really into wearing padded bra, Actual padded bras you wear under your shirt. Now I couldn`t choose a bra because not everyone feels comfortable wearing one let alone wearing one under your t-shirt. So we went further and went for something longer..a Bralet!. Jesy likes to keep to her top half simple..She likes to show her toned stomach and arms. You could do too, When your dancing around you don`t want to feel sticky or hot. I know a bralet may not seem like everyones cup of tea either so you can swap this with a t-shirt and the outfit would still look good.

PrettyLittleThing CLOVER BLACK STRAP HEELED SANDALS: £20. This outfit would be a mixture of grunge and classy with these heels. Can feel like a sophiscated young lady whilst wearing black heels and mom jeans. All the rage at the moment.

H&M Narrow belt: £6.99. It`s your choice if you wanted to add a belt or not, or let the jeans free like Perrie does. Or if you don`t want your pants falling down (Or you hate pulling them up every 2 seconds) then a belt for you. Belts with gold hoops have become popular recently, A lot of brands and shops have taken inspiration from Gucci`s classic belt and incorporated it in their own...For much cheaper.

ASOS DESIGN large square polysatin headscarf/neckscarf in monogram: £14. What a absolute corker this is, The scarf is a much cheaper dupe of the one Jesy owns. Not only that but it more or less has the same logo as Fendi so you could pass this off as designer. Of course you don`t have to wear this is as headscarf, You can use it as a scarf, or you can hang it around your handbag and even that would look designer (Most designers do this), Or maybe a wrist scarf? Or a neck scarf? The list is endless.

Look No.2

Sacred Hawk t-shirt dress with wolf motif: £32. I did come up with two outfits for Jesy, One is trendy and one is similar to what she has been wearing lately. But I chose this t-shirt dress because she seems to be a fan of these, She doesn`t like plain ones she has to like ones with graphic prints..Which I must admit was hard to find unless they are designer. Now you will see where I am going with this if you continue reading but it is part of a new fashion trend that is happening recently and it`s all to do with layering. I have noticed layering has become really popular lately, You might think layering is too do with keeping warm and putting another t-shirt on but oh no. Layering is experimenting and letting your creativeness run free, It`s apart of creating a dynamic yet unique look.

PrettyLittleThing NEON PINK HIGH NECK JERSEY LONG SLEEVE BODYSUIT: So we decided to include this bodysuit because 1. It`s neon and neon is at the height of it`s game at the moment and 2. It`s all to do with the layering effect. As I mentioned above layering has become popular recently with people doing different layering styles. Underneath a black t-shirt dress you can wear a bodysuit with a turtleneck (So people know your layering), So we chose this pink bodysuit. From a plain outfit to a really funky and dynamic one we have just shifted this outfit from first gear to second gear with one really simple piece. You can also get it in green here

ASOS DESIGN ribbed ankle socks: £3. If we take it back to last month, Do we remember when Jesy uploaded a photo with the green beanie? She wore a oversized t-shirt dress didn`t she? Along with boots. Well banish the boots and add some socks because girl this look is going places, This is my favourite look out of the lot. It`s so youthful, fun, fresh, unique, creative. Girl if I was going with you I would wear this look. If pinks not your thing, Then why not try some green socks? We picked these ones up from ASOS.

Nike Air Force 1 Trainers White: £54.99. How could you go wrong with the classics?

Perrie

Boohoo Petite High Rise Mom Jeans: £15. This outfit may look familiar to you, Yes I did recreate Perrie`s outfit she wore to the 1975 concert recently. She wore a pair of mom jeans. Mom jeans are for people who like to feel comfortable without the feeling of something sticking to your legs or for the people who don`t like how their legs feel in skin tight jeans. Now mom jeans arent to everyones taste..They can be awkward, Make your legs look weird and everything but you can experiment, People like different things. What to also note is that Perrie didn`t wear a belt with her outfit on that day...She went for the grunge, laidback undone look which is also becoming a trend now.

Topshop Smooth Thick Hoop Earrings: £8. Perrie has been sporting some gold hoops a lot lately so it would be wrong not to add any. Thick gold hoops are on trend at the moment.

PrettyLittleThing WHITE CHUNKY CLEATED SOLE TRAINERS: £25

Monki checked cap in beige: £10. Perrie seems to love a good hat and to make this outfit stand out, you could add a hat. If you don`t like the way your hair looks or if it looks greasy...Wear a hat. We picked up this hat from ASOS, With the Burberry pattern beaming people would think is designer and expensive. So why not look expensive for much cheaper? Perrie has been seen wearing Buberry items, But us mere mortals arent that rich so we have to settle for dupes and what better dupe then this one.

MissGuided black funnel neck long sleeve bodysuit: $15. Ah, the classic black bodysuit. These go with everything and anything. Wear these casually or glammed up..Can`t find a top that goes with that skirt? A bodysuit is the answer to your prayers.

Leigh

I Saw It First Black Slinky Zip Front Long Sleeve Unitard: £10. As of late last year when Little Mix was on the performance circuit, I noticed Leigh had been wearing a lot of skin tight clothing such as cycling shorts, bodysuits...Basically she was dressing like a cyclist. Now I`m not saying you should go and dress like one, Because let`s be honest it`s not the best fashion look and not everyone can pull it off. So we circled around that and ended up with this black unitard from I Saw It First. You will be able to dance freely, Not get so hot and you won`t have any trouble finding the fly. Slinky unitards arent just for the ballerinas, they are for the festival and concert goers. These fit in with the very grunge, 80s trend happening at the moment. If you look around you will be able to find a unitard that is fully covered everywhere without any cut outs.

Claudia Canova mermaid sequin bum bag: £20. When you go to a concert, You can`t just go without any cash or a phone or a emergency backup of a lipgloss. Would you take a bag? Maybe but we need something more convenient that won`t get in the way of our dancing. Bum bags arent just for festivals, Celebrities have been seen wearing these casually. They along with many of the items in this list have become a fashion staple these last couple of years and not only that but it`s convenient and will save you a nagging from your mum. However, WIth bum bags you can either have the fun, quirky bag or you can have the casual, sophiscated glammed up one whichever one takes your fancy it will go with your outfit. So I picked up this glam one from River Island.

Topshop PETITE Hacked Off Cropped Denim Jacket: £42. Leigh loves a denim jacket and so do we. Incase you are worried you may get cold or you want to hide your arms then a jacket is the perfect accessory.

Glamorous Chunky Mono Trainers: £34.99. Chunky trainers has become popular as of late. Personally I think you can get the ugly chunky trainer or you can get the cute chunky trainer, You can go big or you can go small. Taken I think from Yeezys these have spiralled into a trend, It`s all apart of the 80s trend.

This post does contain affiliate links. This means if you make a purchase through these links I earn a tiny commission to keep the blog running. It does not cost you any extra.

#Little Mix #Glamourous #ASOS #PrettyLittleThing #Boohoo #MissGuided #Office Shoes #Nike #River Island #Topshop #I Saw It First #H&M #SkinnyDip #New Look #Inspired

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raendown · 6 years

Link

I finally got around to taking part in @dahtwitchi‘s Dick Pic Project! And in time to be allowed my repost of her delicious artwork! The image I am posting is ever so slightly doctored, just cropped a little, but with permission from Twitchi.

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4121 Rated: M Summary: Madara isn't sure what he thinks about being given a third chance at life. He's glad that he has his brother and Hashirama with him, although he's pretty sure he could live without Tobirama being there as well. What really makes things things interesting is all this new technology. He particularly enjoys his new 'cellphone'.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Rapture On The Lonely Shore

As much as Madara appreciated being given another chance at life, there were still moments when he wondered if this was all just a little too much trouble. He had lived his life – two of them in fact! In that time he had committed his crimes, died for them twice, and seen about as much of the world as he’d thought he would ever want to. Getting dragged back in to the land of the living for a third go around wasn’t really in his plans.

Having both of the Senju brothers tag along for the ride could be nothing but karma trying to kick him in the ass and have a good laugh at him while doing it. Some days not even the fact that Izuna had also clawed his way back to life was worth the aggravation of it all.

Certainly on the surface everything was fine and dandy. The citizens of Konoha had at last reached a point where they were content to ignore him so long as he remained docile and afforded them the same discourtesy. Hashirama had fallen so easily in to the patterns of friendship they enjoyed during the few shorts months he had been able to peacefully exist within the village they built together. Spending his days with Izuna as he had always wanted to was a joy he’d long stopped believing could ever be possible.

The problem, as always, was Tobirama. To an outsider’s point of view it would appear that Tobirama had given up all animosity towards the Uchiha brothers he once carried so much hate for. And that would almost be considered correct, Madara had to admit. After finding themselves alive in a time period far passed their own, all of them had found it much easier to lay down their anger and simply enjoy the time they had been gifted, allowing the sins of the past to stay there and looking forward to the future with lighter hearts. Tobirama spent most of his time these days devoting his mind to the science he’d always loved.

He spent the rest of his time bothering Madara.

It wasn’t the same sort of hatred which had existed between them before when Izuna lay buried beneath six feet of earth and neither Tobirama nor Madara could look at each other without seeing the blood of their lost kin. Back then they had both done everything in their power to get in each other’s way, to antagonize and impede and irritate in every way they could just for the pleasure of knowing they had ruined even just a moment of the other’s day.

Now Madara wasn’t sure what he would call it. Without the weight of the world on his shoulders Tobirama seemed to have discovered a new side of himself that very much enjoyed poking fun at other people. He found a great deal of amusement in pulling small pranks and Madara, unfortunately, was his new favorite victim. Even more confusing was that none of it seemed to truly be mean-spirited. Tobirama switched out his reading glasses and put dye in his shampoo bottle, he laughed at the results until he was rubbing his sides with glee and then – amazingly – he would return Madara his things or provide him with the cure for whatever chaos he had caused. Then he returned to his lab until the urge for this new brand of fun rose again.

Several years had already gone by since the Fourth Shinobi War and all of them were fairly well entrenched in their patterns. Izuna in particular still struggled to remember the availability of new technologies like electric stoves and lightbulbs. On his part, Madara had been enamored with the concept of a cellphone since he was first handed one and the concept explained to him. That changed when Tobirama got a cellphone of his own.

Now here he was eyeing the small bar across the lock screen which indicated that he had a new message from “That White Bastard”. Madara sighed, drumming the nails of his other hands against his thigh as he wondered if it was worth his time to open the message. Last time he gave in to curiosity he’d gotten a series of eight picture messages of the same stupid leaf from different angles. Just a dumb waste of his time, something harmless that did nothing more than irritate him yet caused no real offense, that was the basis of all their interactions now. Madara had stopped checking Tobirama’s messages since then and started deleting them on sight but today a pattern had been broken.

Today he had received one picture message followed by no less than fifteen text messages in rapid succession. The constant ding of his phone was both annoying and slightly alarming, holding his attention if only for the way the messages just kept coming all at once. That wasn’t like Tobirama. It was more like Tobirama to wait and send each message in short intervals for maximum irritation value.

With a roll of his eyes and a heavy sigh, Madara unlocked his phone and fumbled around for the messages app. He wouldn’t be able to think about anything else until he solved this mini mystery so he might as well get it over with sooner rather than later. As soon as he opened it, however, he narrowed his eyes in confusion, anxious worry rising up in his throat as he read through the immediately visible messages.

No Seriously Do not I mean it, don’t scroll up If I send you enough messages it won’t be visible Just don’t scroll up I mean it Uchiha Don’t fucking do it If you want to keep your sanity DO NOT SCROLL UP

Madara caught his bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled viciously with indecision. He’d never seen Tobirama come even close to panic before but these messages, the speed with which they had all dropped in one after the other, it felt a lot like panic to him. The last message in particular caught his attention. He wasn’t sure if the wording was meant as a genuine warning or as a some kind of threat but all it had really accomplished was to make him incredibly curious. What could that idiot Senju have possibly sent him that would be followed all of this?

It took exactly half a minute for Madara to cave to his own curiosity. Whatever had been sent to him, it was obvious the Senju didn’t want him to see it. He might be holding amazing blackmail material in the palm of his hand; he would be stupid not to investigate that. Scrolling upwards only increased his confusion at first as it became more and more clear that Tobirama seemed to have sent him something by accident, something he truly did not wish for Madara to see, true panic clear in the messages where he seemed to realize he’d made some sort of mistake.

DON’T LOOK AT IT I DID NOT MEAN TO SEND THIS IMAGE Believe me when I say I meant to send something else This was an accident Do not scroll up Do not look at that image No Seriously

And then Madara found the image itself.

If he had an ounce less self-control he would have thrown his cellphone across the room on mere reflex, an instinctive reaction to the immediate influx of conflicting emotions. Of all the possible things Tobirama might have sent him, even accidentally, an image of the other man in the nude had not even crossed Madara’s mind.

Alright, so Tobirama wasn’t completely nude in the photo, although he might as well have been. His torso was bare and the pants he was wearing were opened to allow his impressive erection to rise out and stand perfectly centered in the frame. Madara couldn’t decide if he wanted to stare at the most delicious cock he’d ever set his poor shamed eyes upon or if he wanted to trace the shape of the tattoo he’d never known about. Tobirama’s pale white skin made a perfect backdrop for the red ink of a tiger to claw its way up and around his shoulder, the stripes of the beast’s arm running down Tobirama’s. The man’s other arm was pulled up behind his head to draw Madara’s eye to the third surprise: apparently Tobirama had seen fit to pierce one of his nipples.

Madara swallowed thickly, both hands clutching his phone so hard the metal casing gave a protesting creak. The part of his brain that had been raised in a war with the Senju was a little disgusted with himself for even entertaining the ideas this image was clearly meant to inspire. Perhaps it wasn’t meant to inspire those ideas in him but the other part of himself, the one that had put the war behind him and was slowly learning to trust again, was already rerouting blood to some very interested parts of his body. A few years ago he might have scowled at this same image with nothing but revulsion. Now he sank deeper in to his couch cushions and palmed the front of his trousers.

Two could play at this game, he thought with a grin. It had taken hours to teach him how to use the camera function on this overly complicated device but it was time he appreciated as well-spent now, reluctantly backing away from the messaging app so he could open up the camera and fiddle until he remembered how to turn it around to face himself. Then he unfastened his pants and pushed them down.

He wasn’t nearly as naked as Tobirama, he noticed. Staring back at the image of himself made him wonder if he should set the scene a little. Maybe take off his shirt? Pose? What expression should he make? Madara shifted and watched his cock bob from side to side, leering at the reflection his own hardness when an idea occurred to him.

It took several tries to get a picture he liked that actually stayed in focus, then several more tries to figure out how to send it back to Tobirama. If he said so himself it was quite an attractive image with him hunkered down in a similar lounging pose as the other man with one of his hands stroking himself and his eyes closed in bliss.

When his phone began to ring he nearly jumped out of his skin. The screen told him that Tobirama was calling him and Madara stared at it for a few seconds, terrified enough that his erection wilted a little. He didn’t think Tobirama would call him. He’d just…actually he had no idea what he’d meant with this stupid idea. Tit for tat? Payback? Mutual teasing with naked bodies? But if he didn’t answer then he ran the risk of Tobirama just popping in with that infernal jutsu of his so Madara accepted the call with one shaking thumb, his other hand still wrapped protectively around his own cock.

“Hello…” he mumbled, unsure of what the protocol was for talking to someone he’d just sent a racy picture of himself to.

“I thought I told you not to look at it.” Tobirama’s voice sounded oddly breathless in his ear. Madara swallowed thickly as his mind supplied him with several possible reasons why. His thumb absently rubbed small circles around the smooth head of his cock, making him shiver.

“You made me curious,” he admitted.

A few beats of silence followed before Tobirama spoke in a husky rasp, “I think I made you hard.”

“Perhaps. And you?” This was all stupid, so stupid, a bad idea shaped from adrenaline and the shock of sudden arousal. The percentage chance of this all blowing up in his face was astronomically high and yet he couldn’t stop his thumb from continuing to trace light circles, closing his eyes and dropping his head back to strain his ears for the sound of Tobirama’s voice. Had the man always had such an attractive voice or had Madara just not been listening properly?

“Madara…what are you doing right now?”

There were a hundred possible answers he could have given, a million different lies he could have told to stop this situation before it got too far out of hand, but the only animosity left between them was harmless pranks because they made Tobirama laugh and Madara had just enough courage to make a leap of faith. He took a chance in a way he never would have done in the world they lived in before.

“Right now? I’m touching myself while I think about that picture you sent me.”

“Oh.” Tobirama cleared his throat but it didn’t erase the fact that they both heard his voice crack. “R-right now. You’re–? Okay.”

“Do you know what would help?” Madara grinned listening to Tobirama’s breathing speed up.

“What?”

“If I could listen to you touching yourself at the same time.”

He never would have guessed how satisfying it would be to hear the hitch in Tobirama’s breath and the stuttering inhale that followed his statement. Madara shifted his grasp on the phone and squirmed as his thumb moved a little faster. Every fiber of his being wanted to move the entire hand, his blood boiling with anticipation at just the thought of it, but he held off for now. How much more satisfying would it be to have Tobirama join him? To listen to each other fall to pieces even though they were half a village apart.

Very likely he would have trouble looking Tobirama in the eye the next time they saw each other but that was a problem to be considered later. He could worry about his own recklessness and the possible fallouts of this after what promised to be a very satisfying orgasm.

“So, what, you would just…if I…?”

“You’re already touching yourself aren’t you?” Madara cut in smugly.

“Are you?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Tell me how you’re touching yourself Tobirama.”

The voice in his ear stumbled through a few syllables, clearly having difficulty doing both tasks at once, but finally he managed to say, “Slowly. I like to do it slowly. With light touches at first.”

Madara kept his eyes closed and groaned freely as his hand began to move at last, root to tip, consciously mimicking the things that were being described to him and trying to imagine it was Tobirama’s pale hand working him. Unsurprisingly, it was pretty easy to imagine. He’d never been more thankful for the perfect recall his eyes granted him.

“Never knew you had any other tattoos. If you were here I’d be tracing it with my tongue.” Madara bucked helplessly in to his fist when Tobirama groaned in his ear. He waited to hear something back, silence stretching until he realized the other man either had no idea what to say or was still too embarrassed to say it. Feeling reckless, he continued to speak his mind without thought for the consequences. “And that piercing. You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? I’d love to get my teeth around that.”

“It was a dare,” Tobirama murmured finally, making him chuckle.

“Dare you to stroke yourself a little faster,” he said darkly. The other man let out a keening sound that sparked down the length of his spine like a jolt of electricity.

When the breathing in his ear started coming in fits and starts Madara swallowed thickly and moved his own hand faster as well, thrilled in a way he couldn’t describe to know that Tobirama had done so at his behest. His other hand absently pressed the phone so hard to the side of his head he feared the screen might crack, unwilling to miss even the slightest sound.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he asked, grinding the words out between his clenched teeth.

“Fuck – yes – fuck…” Tobirama paused and then he whispered, “I want…to hear youcome.”

Madara groaned again instead of answering. If he had a second hand free he would have reached down between his legs to tease his entrance, maybe spit on his fingers and pressed in with just the tip of one, but to do that he would have to drop the phone. The last thing he was willing to do at that moment was give up the sound of Tobirama right at the edge, so close to glory. So instead he squeezed his eyes closed tighter and constructed the image of the other man on his knees taking Madara in to his mouth, the heat and the suction and the way his red eyes would be narrow and unfocused.

It was just enough. With a violent shudder he came, back arching and teeth grinding, a wordless growl ripping up his throat and immediately echoed from the other end of the call. Madara felt his jaw drop open in a gasp when he realized that Tobirama was coming too, reaching his completion from listening to Madara’s own.

When the pleasure bordered on pain he let his hand come to rest and slumped backwards against the couch cushions to listen to Tobirama’s panting. His mind was blissfully empty of any thoughts other than how incredibly satisfying that had been, more satisfying than taking care of things himself usually felt. It took several minutes for him to realize that he and Tobirama were sitting in silence and listening to the each other recover in the aftermath. This was a man who, until a half hour ago, he would never thought himself to have any attachment to, had never even considered him as an option. Their shared past had blinded him to any possible attraction before now.

Now he wasn’t sure he would be able to look the man in the eye without wondering what he would taste like in the throes of ecstasy. Madara snapped both eyes open and stared at the ceiling with muted horror as he slowly realized what he’d just done and who he had done it with.

It seemed Tobirama’s mind was following the same paths.

“May I point out,” he heard the man rumble, “that it truly was an accident, me sending you that image.”

“Hmm. You say that and yet I cannot think of any other reason for you to possess something…like…that…” Madara’s voice trailed off as a sudden thought washed over him like ice water. Why indeed would Tobirama have taken a photograph like that? Had he meant to send it to someone else? Had he taken it for a another person? His panic was cut short when Tobirama snapped at him, slipping easily in to defensive mode.

“You’ve called me narcissistic many times yourself. If you can’t tell what that image is for then I don’t know how to break the news to you.”

“Well I just thought, you know, if it was meant for…”

“Someone else?”

Madara pulled the phone away from his ear so that he could scowl at it briefly, hoping Tobirama would feel his irritation through their connection. Then he brought it back to say, “Clearly. I seem to remember that Inuzuka boy blathering on about something called ‘dick pics’ while he was trying to explain the camera function to me.”

“It was meant to pander to my preference for exhibitionism when at the time I lacked a partner to exhibit myself for.” He paused, a moment in which Madara strained his ears for more. “I am, in fact, still without a partner. A life partner, I mean. Or, well, that’s a bit presumptuous, clearly not every relationship is meant to last for life but what I mean is–”

“Are you asking me to be your partner?”

“Well I was going to but not if you’re going to interrupt me in that tone.”

“Because you don’t actually hate me or because I got you off over the phone?” Madara huffed, using his sticky hand to wrench his clothing back in to place with something like offense settling in his stomach.

Tobirama echoed his huff. “Impossible man. Just hold on a moment.”

Before Madara had time to question what the man wanted him to hold on for there was a surge of chakra across the room and then he was very glad he’d taken the time to stuff himself back inside his pants. Tobirama’s head swung from side to side as he took in the room he had just appeared in, clearly looking for Madara, and he narrowed his eyes when he spotted his prey.

“Are you deliberately this obtuse or do you somehow go through life with your eyes closed without noticing?” the man demanded, crossing the room with long strides to lean over and brace himself against the back of the couch with one hand, shoving his face right up in to Madara’s.

“I am not obtuse!”

“You can’t even tell when someone is flirting with you!”

“That’s – you’ve been flirting with me!?” Madara shoved the idiot away from himself so that he could rise to his feet with indignation. “What are you, five? A little girl pulling pigtails? You annoy me every chance you get and call it flirting? Not even your stupid lump of a brother is that poorly socialized to think that any sane human being would see your actions as some form of courtship ritual!”

“Would you shut up?”

Tobirama sneered in irritation and then hauled Madara up on to his toes for a searing kiss that cut off all further comments. As much as Madara wanted to cling to his argument that absolutely no flirting had happened, he gave in to Tobirama’s very convincing rebuttal rather quickly. It was hands down the best argument he’d ever lost and he did have to admit that the benefits of going along with this far outweighed the downsides. Actually, he couldn’t think of any downsides at all.

He very deliberately avoided thinking about what Hashirama’s reaction would be to this little development.

Groaning in protest when the delicious lips assaulting his own pulled away, Madara gathered what little cantankerous irritation was left in him and glared up at the man towering over him, a little insulted as he always was whenever he noticed again how much taller Tobirama was than him.

“You did send me that ‘dick pic’ on purpose, didn’t you? I know you did.”

“I maintain that it was an accident.”

“Bullshit.”

Tobirama shrugged. “Believe what you will. Although I should probably mention that I believe it was your brother which started the betting pool on when precisely you would clue in to my attentions. I’m not certain who has the spot for this month but we may wish to be discreet for now.” Madara pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I changed my mind. You’re too much trouble, get out of my house.”

“Hmm, so that’s a no on taking a few more personal photographs? These cellular phones are incredibly useful, wouldn’t you say?”

Madara paused to close his eyes and draw in a deep breath, letting it back out slowly before cracking his eyes open again for a very hard glare. He was sort of hoping his new partner might cower under the force of such a sharp expression but instead the only response he got was a single raised eyebrow.

“I hate you,” he grumbled.

“You’ll love what I can do with my tongue, though.”

“Can I take pictures of that?”

Tobirama didn’t answer him but Madara did notice the other man made sure to grab his cellphone as they stumbled down the hall towards his bedroom.

He still didn’t understand for what purpose he had been given yet another unearned chance at life. Madara had no idea why he and Izuna and the Senju brothers had all been pulled away from what should have been their final rest. But that mattered less and less with every kiss the two of them shared on their stumbling journey down the hall. There didn’t need to be a reason for any of this; what mattered was the fact that he hardly remembered what it felt like to truly hate someone, that he had the life now he had dreamed of for so many years before.

What mattered was Tobirama and the oddly peaceful feeling of leaning in to his embrace. This new future with its strange technologies was no faultless paradise but it certainly had quite a few perks he very much intended to take advantage of like cellphones, dick pics, and the dimmer switch on the electric lightbulbs in his bedroom. Madara had no idea why he had been granted the life he’d always wanted – but he was happy to finally be happy.

#rae writes #art by dahtwitchi #madatobi #madara #tobirama #fanfiction #fanart #naruto shippuden

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katapunberbicara · 5 years

Text

Not your likely guide of dressing at wisnite

Not being a student anymore, I plan to recap the memory when starting as a student before it fades away without a slightest trace. First off, since lately I like watching the video about the transformation of the clothes throughout the years, in which I’m triggered to write the same issues, specifically to describe how I dressed at wisnite, commonly named as prom night, from time to time. So, this all about the memories of wisnite and the way I attired for each. I’m actually not well-dressed so if you look for a guidance, this writings will not contain anything that might help you to be dressing well in a prom night.

Anyway, the term of ‘wisnite’ I used here referred to the tradition of throwing a thematic party for the graduates before their leaving the campus. Most of the party was held at night because not like the graduates, during the day the juniors organizing all the stuffs were still hanging around in campus.

Old but gold October 15, 2016

It was the first wisnite so I and my friends were excited to look for the right outfit for that special occasion. The rules of dressing was the colors must include black, red, and gold, or anything that looked both fancy and classy since the theme was ‘old but gold’. Had followed the excitement, I ended up buying the wide-brimmed hat that had caught my eyes at the first whilst going shopping. For the cloth, I wore black blouse, cardigan, and semi span skirt with stripe-patterned to complete my look.

Class of 2012 who would graduate at that time were brothers and sisters I respect the most because of their wholesome advice, the solidarity, moreover their sincere guidance. Despite this class was the first class in my department and hence struggling with all the difficulties since it was hard at the beginning, still they really did a good job to set everything ease for us.

I can truly say that eventhough this class is old, but they have turned into a gold indeed. For that reason, the party was organized, arranged, and prepared sincerely by all my friends for offering a heartwhalming night that showed our respect and affection for our beloved one, the class of 2012.

Vintage October 15, 2017

This time, I wasn’t that excited to attend the wisnite. But, I might be driven to keep coming over because of the courteous manner for the seniors who would graduate. I didn’t buy anything, but only looked around in my wardrobe and finally found tunic and trousers both in nude colors that would not only fit to the style of vintage, but also were modesty in dress. Then, the top was layered with the tribe-patterned outwear belonged to my friend to make my look more vintage.

However, there were several issues which had coloured the relationship between my class and those class who would graduate, class of 2013. But, it seemed to me that the incoveniences among us occured merely because of miscommunication in the organization.

Through the process of learning and contemplating from the past, I have a better understanding about human interactions, moreover how to maintain a vertical relation between the superiors and the inferiors. Can’t be denied that people might easily misconceive even by little things like the tone through speaking, the mimic of voice or gesture, and the sentence when addressing one or more orders. Once the misconception occured caused on the faulty thinking, the sentences of ‘sorry for bothering’ and ‘thank you for helping’ are meaningful to reassure us.

Monochrome March 28, 2018

Among the graduation’s periods, this periods had the least graduates, probably only around three graduates. Hence, the committees held wisnite in a classroom in campus. Since the theme was monochrome, so we could simply wear anything, but it must be coloured with black, white, a mixed color of both, viz. grey, or in stripe-patterned. At that time, I decided wearing a denim jacket and a grey long dress from my wardrobe, along with a veil with the same color.

I didn’t remember particular things that time, besides it was also the least of my class member coming, probably due to the thesis-making life during that whole periods.

Mask party July 15, 2018

It was the first wisnite for my year class who formerly completed their bachelor degree. Compared to us, they were forced to faster their graduation since most of them were also pursuing their master degree at the same time.

Somehow some of my friends used to make funny of my team by saying that we would finish in July since Adenna was in. Unfortunately, we just made it on time in October just like anyone else. As people always say, ‘man plans, God decides.’

Back then, none of us had thought the committees would be that serious arranging the party, even preparing one thing beyond our expectations that made us utterly confused about whose idea that was, rather than being satisfied about that. Forget about it, since it was a mask party, I wore my favorite long dress and mask, both in black. Can you spot where I am ?

1980’s Retro October 18, 2018

Despite that time was my night, I didn’t prepare anything since there were only two days left before the graduation day. As getting closer with the D-day, the more costs incurred and the thighter the schedule. I only dressed in black knit sweaters and polkadot dress, along with the cheap headbands I had found while shopping kebaya. It seemed like the outfit didn’t fit much to the theme, since retro, as we know it, was full of color while mine only consisted of monochromatic color, plus a little bit red coloring my veil.

To be honest, I couldn’t cry easily, but realising that was the last chance I met my friends, suddenly the tears came out. Moreover, thanked to the committees who had arranged a slight moment for us to share feelings and last words before we were scattered without having a say for each other. For that reason, my eyes was watery. Never at once had we gave up on chasing the way to make us more likely intense and as intimate as the upper or lower class.

Some of you might argue that I had exaggerated the situation and this was not the last yet, and still a lot of chance awaits in the future. But still, if I were able to spare the time longer, I would rather do many good things together with those who counted on me, whereas I myself was having so much imperfection; recognised how to soothe my nerve whether it was by walking around or talking plenty more cheesy jokes instead; patted me on a the back whenever I did wrongness rather than leaving me behind; and stayed by my side even in the craziest and the most chaotic time.

They are the north of my south. They are the daylight of my dark night. They are completely completing me

Even if, you may simply say that’s all what friends are for, still I am very thankful for being wrapped with a dozens of beautiful souls of them!

#story of my life

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dragonsight9 · 6 years

Text

Half Gone: Chapter 1

Note: *dropping story ideas, drawings and pages of chapters all over the place* Crap, oh god, oh goodness gracious I’m so sorry guys. Please enjoy this chapter while I try to get myself organized.

Story Masterpost

Word Count: 2,495

Summary for the chapter: Virgil wakes up and gets cleaned up for the ceremony.

Warnings: None atm(Remember to let me know if you see any)

“Virgil!! Virge! Kiddo! Come on wake up! We have to get ready or we’ll be late!!”

Virgil groaned quietly in response to the muffled shouting, curling his tail over his snout and pulling his wings closer to his body. His foggy mind started to dim once more, wrapping itself in the warm comfortable blanket of the darkness that is sleep.. Only to be brought back to reality by a tickling sensation on the tip of his nose. Figuring it to be a bug he unconsciously flicked his tail over his nose to be rid of it. When it returned he growled tiredly and turned his head and rested it under his wing. Then it started to get brighter and he cursed the sun for being so bright, covering his eyes to block it out.

“Go away Pat.. I love you but it’s too early in the morning for this..”

“But it’s the day of the new kings coronation! We can’t be late for that! We’ve never missed one since King Hansen adopted us. We can’t break that streak and miss one now!” Pattons whine echoed through the cave.

Virgil lifted his wing when the light dimmed and stared at his younger brother with one open, annoyed eye. He was still glowing brighter than usual but Virgil could still see his excited features. He sighed and slowly sat up, showing Patton that he was getting up. He kind of regretted it though when Patton squealed in excitement. Virgil flinched at the noise and the flash of extra light from Patton and stretched, opening his wings and stretching them out in either direction of his cave and turning to Patton. His smile was still beaming and Virgil winced, still used to the darkness of his cave.

The moment he had stopped stretching, Patton was on him, cleaning his scales and smoothing out the small wrinkles that formed in his wings from lack of use. Virgil could very well take care of himself but Patton did this every time there was an important event they were invited to, and it wasn’t just Virgil he did it to. He would go around the whole island and get everyone prim and proper. Virgil grinned every time at the thought of “Prince” Roman, as he liked to call himself, constantly whining about how he can take care of himself. Only to be silenced by Pattons wide bright smile as Roman admires himself in the large mirror he made for himself. In fact, he was probably admiring his small crown of horns atop his head right now rather than meeting up with the others at the castle gates.

Then Virgils thoughts take a sharp turn. The “Prince” that was supposed to be crowned today, Prince Raymond, Virgil had a bad feeling about him. The way he walked with his back a little too straight, the way he talked too softly when he wasn’t around the 6 dragons and the way that he always seemed to notice them in a room full of hundreds of people. He was always too kind and too caring, but when Virgil had met him, he had looked him in the eyes and noticed the slightly menacing thoughts drift into them for a moment. Then as soon as they were there, they were gone, and Virgil had been uncomfortably anxious for the rest of the night.

The king at the time, King Eric, had introduced all of the dragons in their human forms to Raymond when they had enough time. They didn’t know who he was then, and the dragons still don’t, but they trusted King Eric and his judgment of people, especially when none of his heirs survived to be 10 years old. Virgil remembered pulling Eric to the side and telling him that he should keep an eye on Raymond. Eric had smiled and put a hand on the storm dragons shoulder, putting his worries to rest for the time being and telling him that it would all be ok.

His worries would have stayed buried if not for the way that King Eric had died. A maid had came into his room and found him dead in his sleep along with a glass of wine at his bedside. Virgil had been anxious and suspicious. He stayed up later than usual to keep watch over the whole kingdom, including the castle and seeing as Virgil didn’t need to sleep as much as the others, he stayed up for about a week before the black markings under his eyes became too noticeable and he finally slept.

“What are your thoughts on Raymond?”

Virgil was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost didn’t register the fact that he just asked Patton what he thought of Raymond.

He felt his younger brother pause for a moment whilst cleaning Virgils large twisted horns. “Well kiddo, he makes me feel a little..” He tilts his head slightly, thinking, the light from his body dimming slightly and his branch-like horns becoming paler. “..a little uneasy I guess. His morals seem to be in the right place, but sometimes I can’t help but think they’re a mask, fake.” His movements slow as he moves to sharpen Virgils jagged spines. When Virgil looks up at the bright blue and yellow dragon he notices that he’s frowning and his intensely light blue eyes are glazed over in thought.

“Hey Patton?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve been getting everyone ready for the ceremony, but have you gotten yourself fixed up yet?” Virgil says, pointing at the slightly mangled light brown fur that followed Pattons spine all the way to the middle of his tail then fluffed up to become a ball of fur at the end of it. It was matted and messy, wrapping around the long, thin, yellow spines that protruded from it. His bright sky-blue scales had bits of leaves and grass stuck between them, which Virgil thought must be at least a little itchy for him.

Patton froze and looked over himself, he seems a little surprised before laughing. His laughs were always nice, it sometimes reminded Virgil of the sound of the wedding bells that the humans used, or the feeling he gets when he sees kids playing in the roads of the villages and cities he visited. “Well, I guess Roman gave me a bit more trouble than usual today than I originally thought.” Virgil chuckled at his response, it was always a wonderful thing, seeing Patton smile or be happy, no matter how many times you saw it.

“You want me to help you out?” A small voice joined them. “I may be a tiny human but dragons are always way more fascinating.”

Pattons eyes widened and his smile grew wider, showing off his thin needle-like teeth. His head snapped towards the voice in excitement and basically turned 10 years old again. He squealed in happiness and quickly crawled over to where the little human, clad in blue and white slightly formal wear(by Virgil and Pattons standards) stood, scooping him into his arms and giving him a careful hug and closing his eyes. “Oh kiddo I missed you so much!! It feels like forever since I last saw you!”

“Patton you saw me yesterday.” The human wheezed out. “Also I would like to breath.”

Pattons eyes snap open wide and he pulls out of the hug quickly, still holding the little one. “Oh! I’m so sorry kiddo! I just love you so much! You know how excited I get about seeing those I love!”

“Well, I mean, I am your adopted brother so it just makes sense you love me.”

Virgil grinned as Patton spoke up again. “Oh come on Joseph! Give yourself some more credit! You’re family. Also, shouldn’t you be getting ready for the day? We’re the guests of honor around here, but we’re only going to get the good seats if we’re there early.”

Joseph, the young human in Pattons arms, gives the dragons a look of confusion slightly, causing his light brown hair to fall and cover his dark blue green eyes. “Is it someones birthday or am I missing something here?”

Patton laughs and puts Joseph down as Virgil speaks, “You already forgot?”

“Huh?”

“Kiddo! It’s coronation day!” Patton chimes in, leaving Virgil laughing as Josephs face grows red in embarrassment.

“Joseph how did you forget? You were so excited to even be in the castle for the first time, let alone be a guest of honor for the kings coronation.” Virgil walks over to sit next to Patton as he spoke. Patton was basically a dwarf compared to Virgil, but it just made him that much more adorable.

Joseph suddenly came to, turning to run back to the light in the corner of the cave where Virgil dug out a home for him. “Oh god!! I have to get ready then! I can’t miss out on this!!”

Virgil decided to speak up, not being able to handle the anxiety of possibly missing the ceremony building in his chest. “Don’t be in such a rush kid, Patton, knowing him, already has an outfit for you.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Patton nodding his head vigorously in agreement. Joseph stopped and turned around, his eyes sparkling brightly. He was always amazed by the dragons magic but Pattons was always fascinating to him, he loved it.

“Really?”

“Of course Joseph! And! Because it’s your first time being in the castle I only chose the best for you!” Patton winked and snapped his claws together instantly showering Joseph in a golden, rainbow-like glow.

Virgil had to look away for moment, the brightness burning his eyes slightly, but when he looked back Joseph was dressed in a dark, midnight blue coat with black trousers and a white undershirt. The blue coat had gold thread trailing through the sleeves in a pattern similar to falling stars and a small crest of the kingdom over his left breast pocket. The coat looked comfortably snug, showing off his small but built frame from working as a blacksmith in the nearby towns. It wasn’t squeezing him, and was loosely wrapped around his waist making him seem like a person who really wouldn’t mind if you gave him a hug randomly. If he hadn’t already, he looked like a very handsome noble.

“Well, would you look at that, you probably look more like a prince than Roman!” Virgil laughed and Patton looked ready to defend his brother when he noticed the way Joseph was beaming at his outfit and instead, let out a soft giggle.

Virgil grinned as Joseph ran over with a small rare smile that could light up whole worlds and hugged Patton tightly. “Oh thank you Pat! I love it so much!”

He would’ve liked to hear the rest of whatever they were discussing but the blood pounding in his skull was suddenly too loud. The whispers of doubt were becoming clearer, and his senses suddenly heightened, which both surprised and worried him. What could be so worrisome that it causes my own shadows to doubt the new king? He twisted his neck and looked towards the pool of darkness on the opposite side of the cave room they were in. It lead to deeper caverns much darker than Patton could ever hope to light up. It was filled with twists and turns that no map would ever be able to lead anyone through. There were also magic traps lain throughout that could get anyone killed or even more lost. It was Virgils home, and every human knew to stay away, maybe being away from the shadows so long is just heightening his anxiety?

He was startled from his wandering thoughts when Patton accidentally steps on his own tail and tumbles to the ground. Virgils eyes widen in concern and he immediately gets ready to tear something to shreds before realizing that Patton was laughing at something, along with Joseph. Virgil looked back and forth between the two, guess he missed the joke. He shrugged his wings to relax, the scales underneath turning into the night sky. “Well, I guess we’re all ready to go then?”

Joseph looked over at Patton, “What about him? His fur is still matted and now he’s got gravel in it from laying on the ground.”

Patton chuckled as he got up. “Don’t worry kiddo, I can get myself untangled. Just gotta get the wind through my fur. My scales will be fine as long as I get enough sunlight and fly through enough clouds, which Virgil has plenty of.”

Joseph gave a skeptical look to Patton, “If you say so pops..”

“Well, who do you want to ride with Joseph? We gotta get going.” Virgil clawed at his teeth, trying to clean them the best he could.

“I’ll go with you, I think Patton might want some free space so he can get himself prepared.” Joseph spoke, looking at the disheveled Sun dragon as he walked over to Virgil.

“Alright then, you remember how to get up?” Joseph answered Virgil by tapping on his arm, who then crouched down next to him. Joseph smiled at Virgil and then jumped onto his shoulder, using his wing as support for his weight. Once he was up high enough, he grabbed onto of Virgils spines and pulled himself the rest of the way up. He slides himself between the dragons spikes, careful not to hurt himself and leans back against the curve of the spike behind him. Once he’s sure he’s not going to hurt himself on accident while Virgil is moving, he pats Virgils back, letting him know he’s alright.

“Comfy?” Virgils deep voice rattles Josephs bones as he stands, letting his tail send a small gust of wind that sends some of the gravel airborne.

“As comfy as I can get on a scaled, spiked dragon without a saddle.” Joseph said, rolling his eyes.

Virgils eyes, I guess you could say, “lightened” at the mention of the saddle and he looked over at Patton, who only winked before walking to the cave exit. “Well then come on guys! I don’t want to miss out on the others outfits before the event!” With the last word he fled the cave, taking their only source of light with him. Well, that is, if you don’t count the glowing yellow scales going across Virgils sides mimicking lightning bolts and the white scales on the undersides of his wings mimicking the stars.

Virgils unease started to grow again as he started towards the exit of the cave. Why can’t I just relax? As he stepped out into the sunlight he could already see Pattons long form swirling and dancing in the sky and he spread his wings. Is it just a bad day? He thought as he lifted himself into the clouded sky of his territory. Or is it because we’re crowning a new generation of kings?

Current Taglist: @virmillion @residentanchor @iitsasecret24 @neonb-fly

#sanders sides #sanders sides au #dragons #thomas sanders #fanders #sanders sides fic #half gone

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missixo · 6 years

Text

St Balderich Slays the Dragon [6/19]

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 (on tumblr)

This fic (on AO3)

Pairing: Balderich/Mondatta

Summary: The humans are right to fear omnics and what they can do. What he can and will do to humanity. He is Jörmungandr, and he will see humanity fall.

St Balderich Slays the Dragon

Chapter 6

His men rag on him for the rest of the week about being held down by the beard, with emphasis on the fact it was an omnic doing the deed. It only cements his idea further that this needs to happen. The ragging itself is not an issue, but some of the jokes that were not far enough out of earshot were… well, some of his men need to readjust their thinking before this settles in too deep. All conflicts end at some point, and he wants to avoid wartime sentiments spreading beyond that point if he can help it.

***

Balderich doesn’t recognize any of the faces working in the pharmacy when he goes to refill his blood pressure prescription. “Where are Amelia and Jaime? Not sick, I hope?”

One of the technicians rushes to reassure him, bouncy little thing with an almost convincing customer service smile. “Oh, no sir! The regular pharm crew’s had a heck of a time this week, inspections and licenses and such, so we’re covering them for today. Whose name is the script under?”

“Von Adler, Balderich... Say, you wouldn’t happen to know where I can put in a request for a medic, do you?”

She shakes her head, customer service smile still in place, eyebrows perfectly angled to show sympathy. “Sorry, I’m new and not familiar with most of the hospital layout yet, but one of the receptionists in the lobby should be able to tell you. If you’ll give us just a second, Colonel, we’ll have your meds to you.”

The colonel steps aside to let the next person fill their script. He doesn’t have to wait long before he has the baggie and is heading toward the lobby. He only needs to ask the first receptionist he spots.

“Certainly, Colonel. If you’ll go down this hallway, it’s the third door on the right.”

“Thank you.”

***

Liam isn’t sure he’s hearing the colonel right. “Sir, are you sure you want this omnic as your division’s dedicated medic? He’s standoffish, abrasive, and he has a note in his file about excessive roughness with a patient. There are so many units much more suited to--”

“Yes, I am sure I want this omnic. Will that be a problem?” He doubts it, it would get the omnic out of the hospital’s hair.

“I… We… we’ll get back to you, sir, with the administration’s decision later today.”

Balderich stands to his full height before reaching clear across the desk to shake Liam’s hand. “Thank you for your help. I trust the administration will make the right decision.”

“Uh, um, y-yessir. Have a good day, sir.”

The colonel walks out, looking staid as ever but feeling like the cat that got the canary. He knows they’ll say yes. Too many people bend over backwards to keep him happy, but it does have its uses on occasion.

***

MD wakes up sometime in the early evening on his day off with a new notice flashing in his vision: transfer orders moving him halfway across the base, effective immediately. He now holds the proud title of medic to the Crusaders of Germany.

‘Someone shoot me in the head, please.’

He must make a noise because his roommates are looking at him over their poker game.

“Everything good, M?” Zax, with six points in a pair of staggered columns and a preference for ‘Hawaiian’ shirts. None of his roommates call him MD; they know he hates it, but he still doesn’t have a ‘name.’ He doesn’t want one.

“Does he sound good to you, Zax? Sounds to me like he got some bad news.” Archie, five points in an inverted pentagon set oddly high on his head, wearing various shades of brown.

“How’s about we let him answer for himself, gents? Em, love, what’s happened?” Prism, three points in a tight triangle pointing off to her left, never seen in anything but floral patterns.

“Transfer orders. I’m the new medic for the Crusaders.”

All three of them pause. Logically, they all know the Crusaders are heroes of Europe, but there’s always that uneasy feeling, being around someone who destroys omnics as a career. They look at each other and set aside their cards to help him pack. MD’s not coming back here again.

Prism convinces him to put on his ‘off’ clothes, a blue pullover with a hood big enough to hide even his array if he wants, over black sweatpants. His flip flops complete the look.

Archie tosses him one of his oversized satchels - not quite a duffel - to carry his things in, not that that amounts to much: a reader pad, some tiny glass baubles he bought at the BX one trip, and a small rope of miscellaneous beads he’s collected since Hell Week: a mix of glass, enamel, wood, and metal charms. His two other outfits go in and there’s still room for more.

Zax carries down MD’s pair of succulents for him until he knows how big the case is he’s going to get as a ‘starter kit’ until he can requisition all the supplies he’ll need. As a last moment of hilarity, the starter kit fits in the satchel with the rest of his things with just a little room left, so he can take both of his plants with him.

Zax finishes walking him to the door. “Good luck.”

MD nods and starts walking. After a few minutes, he waves down a transport truck nice enough to give him a lift to the Crusaders’ barracks. The drive goes quickly, smooth over the fresh paved roads.

The truck drops him off with a wave from the driver, and he’s left standing outside the building he’s almost assuredly going to die in. An omnic as medic for the Crusaders. Is this someone’s idea of a sick joke? Even he figured out humor has its limits after the insulin deal. He clutches his plants a little tighter to his chest.

He’s beginning to contemplate desertion and figuring out a Plan B to destroy humanity when the door is opened by a multicellular monolith he doesn’t recognize, wearing the standard shapeless camo trousers and a T-shirt he almost pities for the strain it’s under, with a head of surprisingly full blond hair and a small, neat beard.

“You are the new medic?” He doesn’t sound surprised. Even speaking quietly as he is, MD can tell this man’s voice could probably carry across to the hospital with enough effort behind it.

MD can only nod in response. This one looks calm, but then so does Jörmungandr, and he’s bent on obliterating human society.

“Good! I’m Lieutenant Reinhardt Wilhelm, pleased to meet you. Follow me and I’ll show you your new office.” A wide grin punctuates the statement as he ushers MD inside.

“Most of the crew is at dinner right now, but the colonel should be around soon to answer any questions you might have.” He has to double time it to keep up with the lieutenants gait. Wilhelm keeps up a steady commentary about the rooms they pass, but MD’s stuck on the realization he’s now going to be living in the same building as the man who A: accidentally backhanded him because he was upset about stitches getting removed or something, and B: he grabbed by the mutton chop and held still with that mutton chop for several minutes. Amazing basis for a relationship. Can his day get any better?

“Here we are! No one told me about your quarters, and the last medic left before I got here so--”

“These likely are my quarters, Lieutenant Wilhelm. Thank you, I can get myself settled in just fine. You may return to dinner without worry.” He doesn’t approach the door until Wilhelm moves away from it.

“I’ll let the colonel know you made it!” And he’s off with a jaunty wave.

MD surveys the amount of dust in the room and opens the two windows, sticky from long disuse. He sets his plants on the wide sills and his bag on the field cot tucked in an alcove, noting the cloud that puffs up from the light impact. After he takes a moment to marvel at the amazing neglect of this space, he rolls up his sleeves past his elbows and mourns for his sweatpants. First point of order on the docket: find something that he can even begin to clean the mess of dust bunnies and cobwebs with.

#mondatta god ai #tekhartha mondatta #reinhardt wilhelm #balderich von adler

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