#also THANKS ASA FOR FIXING THAT CHAIR

[unknownkthrn]

Nights With You ♡

Genre :: fluff

Word Count :: 1,428

Paring :: Boyfriend!Chenle

Warnings :: stuff that doesn’t make sense

Notes :: :’D Not very Christmassy but takes place in winter

~~

To you, Christmas, or just the winter break in general, was a special time, being with special loved ones would make almost anything feel better. And today you were getting ready to meet with your friends from high school. Your boyfriend sat on the couch playing video games as you bother him with questions about your outfit.

“You’re leaving now?” Chenle looks up for a slight second from his phone when he sees you moving to the door from the corners of his eyes.

“Mhm.” You nod.

“Okay. I’ll join you in like an hour or so. Depends on how long my parents keep me for.”

“Alright. Bye.”

“Bye.”

You and Chenle did go to the same high school and had hung out with basically the same people but Chenle was mostly closer with some of your seniors from his basketball team. The two of you met on one of the massive get-togethers at the end of high school. You had already broken up with your then boyfriend a few months back, so you were like ‘why not’ when Chenle asked you out on a date then you two start dating.

Speaking of you ex, you forgot he was also a part of said group and didn’t think he would be there. But it doesn’t really bother you much as you happily greet some friends you haven’t seen after college started. You talked and caught up and did things people do when they have a reunion. A lot of people were curious about your relationship with Chenle due to your contrasting personalities.

You caught sight of your ex and was surprised but happy to see that he also has someone new by his side. But when he saw you looking, he pulls his girlfriend closer, landing a peck on her face while staring at you. His eye softens asa he looks back at his girlfriend as you shake your head, focusing back on the conversation you were having.

You were all just waiting at a mall for the others to arrive; the last one was Chenle. You were all planning to go to an amusement park like you did once in high school and recreate pictures you took that day.

When Chenle arrived, you ran over into his arms. Despite wanting to show your ex exactly what he was doing to her, she decided against it.

That would be exactly what he wants. I should just ignore him.

Chenle smiles down at you and ruffles your hair and starts catching up with the others, not noticing your pout as you fix your hair.

For the most of the time, it seemed like your ex stopped bothering you. Until dinner came.

It started out like how dinners usually start. You all went to a nice restaurant, talking like you didn’t want the night to end.

You really didn’t want to pay attention to them, but your eyes kept travelling to the corner to look at your ex.

He was pulling his chair out for his girlfriend.

~

“Hm? Why not?” You tilt your head, to the side as you enter the restaurant with your boyfriend.

“It’s a little too cheesy, don’t you think?”

Though you really didn’t think so, you just nodded your head and pulled out the chair for yourself. “Hm, okay...”

~

Though you thought what he said was a personal preference and let him be, you couldn’t help the terrible feeling in your stomach to go away.

Instead, you just averted your eyes to focus on something else.

Not long after the food arrived, and you were just happily eating when you had to turn to your ex’s direction to get some tissue. And there he was, wiping food off his girlfriend’s face. Seems normal, boyfriends in movies and books do that often, but the way it made you feel definitely wasn’t normal.

~

“There’s food on your face.” He points out but just continues eating.

“Huh? Where?” You start dabbing a napkin all over your face but it didn’t come off.

Instead of wiping it for you, he points it at his own face.

Finally getting it off, you thank him, then continue your meal.

~

It had been a couple years since you dated him, so things were bound to change, right?

You tried shaking off the bad feeling you were getting.

And these things kept happening, especially when you looked in their direction.

It wasn’t until you heard his girlfriend giggling, “What’s wrong with you, today? You’re acting differently.”

Startled by the question, he actually turned to you but looked away when you were staring back, brows furrowed.

Is he doing this on purpose?

You tried to finish your dinner, but the food didn’t seem to digest properly.

Chenle, being not dumb for once, notices your discomfort, and asks if you want to head home.

You shook your head, not wanting to ruin his night. Plus, you didn’t really feel like you could share your problems, burdening others in the process.

At first, he just nods his head, going back to talking with the others. But then suddenly, he tugs your arm up and tells everyone that you’ve both had a great time catching up and hanging out with everyone. Then he mentions how you weren’t feeling well with indigestion, and excused you both from the table.

You called out to him, “I said I was fine.”

“He's bothering you, isn’t he? It’s okay, you don’t have to explain. Do you really not want to go home?”

You shook your head, “I do...”

“Okay, then let’s go.”

Chenle couldn’t drive. He didn’t know how to and didn’t really need to when he had his own driver.

But for some reason, this time he didn’t call for his driver, choosing to walk you home despite not knowing where you were.

After a bit of walking, you heard him let out a teeny tiny sigh you would’ve missed if it wasn’t so quiet. “We’re lost, aren’t we?”

“Psh lost? Nope. This... This is the right way.” Chenle shakes his head and looks around. “Yes, definitely. You have trees in your neighbourhood, right?” He points at a group of trees in the distance.

You laugh, “Why didn’t you call for your driver? Is he busy?”

He shakes his head, “No he’s leaving for Christmas next week. I didn’t call for him since I thought you might feel more uncomfortable. Plus you might puke and I did not want that to happen.”

You shove his shoulder. “Well, do you think you can call him now? I promise I’ll keep everything inside my mouth.”

“But I just said we’re going the right way!”

“We’re obviously not! You’ve just been leading me in circles.” You point across the road to where you were earlier, then point ahead of you to where you saw the trees.

“Fine.”

~

Feeling the warmth of your apartment made not only you warm up from the freezing cold weather outside, but it also helped calm your nerves.

You went to wash your hands and change, and when you came back, you saw Chenle setting up the couch.

“Want to watch a movie?” He asks.

You nod.

“Great cuz I already made the popcorn.” He grins, patting the spot beside him on the couch. You went to cuddle him and watch the movie together.

After a few minutes, you felt safe. You decide to open up to your boyfriend.

“That j*rk. Is he stupid or something?” Chenle continues cursing out on your ex, like a never-ending list of different swear words.

You cuddle closer to Chenle. You watch as the couple in the movie get married and grow old together. Your mind wanders to Chenle.

There’s definitely no one else I’d rather marry and grow old with.

You poke his arm.

“Hm?”

You softly say, “I love you.”

“Huh? What did you say?” Chenle turns around to face you.

You shook your head, “Nevermind, it’s nothing.”

The grin on his face told you he was not going to let it down. “Nuh-uh, it was totally something.”

“You probably heard me, though.” You whined.

“Mm, but it wasn’t clear enough, repeat it please?”

Your face turns red as you feel like your body is on fire under all the blankets.

“I-I love you, Chenle...”

“Really?”

You nod.

“Really, really?”

“Shut up.” You push his face away.

Chenle chuckles, and places a kiss on your jaw, “It’s okay ‘cause I love you too.”

You smile, as your body fills up with another warmth as you stay cuddled on the couch together.

#a neo christmas #nct fluff #nct dream #nct u #christmas fluff #chenle fluff #zhong chenle #nct chenle #zhong chenle fluff #nct #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fluff #chenle #chenle x reader #chenle fanfic #nct dream chenle

[elldell1204]

I Sing for Love - Jay Halstead x Reader

fofisstilinski: hi, i would like a jay halstead with prompts 3 - “Can you just shut your mouth?”, 60 - “But I want to hear you sing.”, 63 - “I think I love you.”, please, thanks

Thank you for this! ❤️ I didn’t reblog @darkdisrepair ’s prompt list to be getting them, but they kindly let me use them so definitely go and check them out. Their Upstead fics are like no other! They’re genuinely amazing. 😘 Anyways, I really loved writing this one. I did alter some of the prompts slightly to make them work in the sentence, by the way. Also, I’ve been playing The Last of Us II recently, and this fic was partially inspired by the scene of Ellie playing the guitar in the music store. I’ve linked it down below so you can listen to the song I mean, as it’s really beautiful and thought it’d fit nicely here. I hope you like it, even if it is a little long-winded. Enjoy! 😊

Warning: couple swear words, may make you cry :( sorry!

wc - 2,783

Click here for the song

Admiring the pile of untouched boxes in the otherwise empty corner of the living room, you took a moment to finally let it sink in. ‘I’m moving in with Jay.’ It was a seemingly simple event to anyone else, but for you and your best friend, it was a huge step forward in your hopefully long life together. Because you knew this was it. You had shared your heart, your mind, your soul with Jay Halstead, a feat you had never even come close to achieving with any of your other boyfriends, not that there were many.

It was scarily similar how alike you two were, yet at the same time, you were totally different. You were both quick-witted, divergent thinkers, aware of the true horrors of the world but in different lights. He had first discovered that when his father gave him ‘tough love’ as a child, a trait he vowed never to adopt. Next was when he saw the travesty that is war; tragic losses of friends as their lives are ripped from your hands by beings you could swear weren’t human, the methods of finding information that haunted you in the form of your worst nightmares, the survivor’s guilt that plagued your everyday when you came home to the widows of the men you fought so hard to save, but unfortunately it wasn’t hard enough. It was a miracle he was able to pull himself out of that hole, and still, he hasn’t fully. But with your help and Hailey’s, he’s surviving. Knowing him now, you weren’t surprised that Jay went into the police force after his active duty. Some say that Chicago is a warzone in itself, but he knew that he could endure this one. After all, the heart he possesses wouldn’t have allowed him to do something with his life that didn’t help others. One of the many reasons why you loved him. Every day he sees the scum of the world, but when he manages to help someone, it reminds him of why he does it. And he knows when he comes home to you, he’s safe. You both know that. Because you have each other, and you protect one another, physically and mentally.

You weren’t on the front lines like Jay was, but still you saw the suffering and agony the world withstands. You were an ASA, a dream you had since you were a child. From the age of three you were better at arguments than any other child on the playground, something your dad used to tease you lovingly for your whole childhood. He told you to “chase your dreams until they become reality, because you would never forgive yourself if you didn’t”. You had asked him why he seemed so forlorn when he said the last part, sat on your bed one night after he’d read you your story. That was when he told you about his dream of becoming a singer, an almost unachievable dream, but one he worked so damn hard for. You asked what happened, and he relayed how his mother became troubled with drinking and drugs after his father left, and so he, being the eldest child, had to work to provide for the family, and so his dream stayed a dream.

You remember saying “But, Daddy, you can still be a singer. I can be your audience.”, and you can still see the smile that spread across his face at your words, the expression being etched into your memory ever since. That was the night he decided to make you his protégé, teaching you how to play guitar and singing with you. This went on for years, and by the time you were thirteen, you were both playing along together, serenading and smiling without a care in the world.

But it wasn’t long before your world crashed down around you. You were seventeen when you got the call, walking out of school one afternoon, with the biggest of your problems being a boring geography assignment, when your mother told you to get to the hospital instead of going straight home. She wouldn’t – more like couldn’t – tell you why over the phone, and as you rushed to Lakeshore Memorial Hospital, your mind was racing with possibilities.

Your dad had collapsed at work, luckily not severely injured, but after running further tests, it was discovered he had stage four lung cancer, and there was nothing they could do. You barely left the hospital the next few weeks, sitting by your father’s bedside as he drifted in and out of consciousness, coughing one minute and throwing up the next. He managed to stay awake a few hours a day at the start, holding your hand and telling you he loved you, retelling stories from his childhood and yours. But when his lungs got weaker, he asked you to bring in your guitar and sing to him, seeing as he couldn’t do it himself. “Music makes me almost as happy as you do, my darling.”

So you did. You sang until your voice was hoarse, until you fell asleep mid-verse, until your fingers and thumbs were blistered. Your mother sat like a mannequin in the chair on the other side of his bed, holding his hand, treasuring the feeling. The feeling of the man you lost too soon.

“If I ever were to lose you, I’d surely lose myself. Everything that I’ve found here, I’ve not found by myself.” You sang, tears pricking at your eyes. You looked up, gazing over at the weak form of your father. If it wasn’t for the machine hooked up to him that was beeping quietly but steadily, you may have thought he was already gone. He was that debilitated, with his limbs laid straight, outlining his body, his eyes closed and his lips, that seemed paler than ever before, the only landmark in the vast ocean of ghastly white that had replaced the face once full of life and laughter.

You laid your guitar back in its case before moving closer to him, intertwining your fingers with his, scared at how cold they felt already. You looked over at your mother. She was silently crying, her eyes rimmed red and streaks traced down her cheeks, and she nodded her head at you.

You sniffed, letting the tears that stung your eyes fall as you stood, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your father’s forehead.

“It’s okay, Dad.” You whispered. “You can go now. Go be at peace. I love you.”

And after a deep breath, you turned to the doctor that stood at the doorway. “You can take him off life support now.”

You let the tear flow down your cheek for a few seconds before you wiped it away. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the sadness. You had a job to do.

You had officially moved in with Jay a few weeks ago now, but due to your busy lives, the only things you had unpacked were the bare necessities, most of which were already dotted around your shared apartment.

It still sounds weird to refer to Jay’s apartment as your own. You practically lived here before he asked you, anyways, seeing as yours was a lot smaller, in a worse neighbourhood and had a lot of noisy neighbours. It was practically the complete opposite to Jay’s, his being a two-bedroom condo with sweet Mrs Elizabeth Bailey next door who you often helped out by carrying her groceries or fixing a dodgy cupboard door. She was like a great aunt to you both, inviting you round for dinner or baking you some cookies every so often. Many a time had she told you about her late husband, Tommy, and their stories from their lives together. Both you and Jay loved to hear the tales of their adventures, and you were saddened that you never got to meet him. One night, you sat close together on Lizzie’s couch, Jay’s arm wrapped around your waist as you leant into his chest, admiring a photo album she had passed to you as she recalled the memories linked to each image from her armchair. She had surprised you when she suddenly said, “You two remind me of Tommy and I; hopelessly in love.” You looked up and smiled at her, a twinkle in her eye as she remembered her husband, and you felt Jay pull you just that little bit closer.

It was also that night, when you both returned to his apartment, that he asked you to move in with him.

And now you were rummaging through your stuff that was packed into boxes, pretty much half of your life stuffed neatly into them. Looking through each one, you realised how little each of the material items mattered to you now that you knew Jay. Apart from the photos of friends and family, the odd keepsake you’d collected over the years and meaningful gifts from various birthdays and Christmases, it was all just junk. At least you thought so until you spotted your guitar case tucked away into the corner.

You took a deep breath before reaching over and picking it up, getting to your feet as you carried the case over to the couch. You sat down slowly, your heartrate picking up even with your meticulously controlled breaths. You gently laid it down in front of you and opened it, lifting the lid like it would shatter if you went too fast. You hadn’t opened it in years, not since you closed it at the hospital on that horrible day. A droplet landed on the smooth mahogany, one that came from your eyes. It took you a while before you wiped it away, unsure if you were strong enough to touch the instrument without breaking down before it.

‘Pull yourself together, Y/N, it’s been ten years’ you thought. And despite telling yourself that you had mostly moved past your father’s death, trying to see the light from it instead of the darkness, you still had moments where you were majorly overcome with grief. But you knew you could do this. You had to. He would have wanted you to.

So you picked it up. You examined it, not that there would be any new marks or scratches with it being shut off from the world for a decade, and then laid it on your knee like a baby, your hands assuming the positions that were like second nature to you, like another language. And you strummed the strings. They were horribly out of tune, so you let out a sodden laugh at the sound before tuning it to perfection.

Now all you had to do was play. You had time before Jay got home, so that wasn’t stopping you. What was is the thought of playing the guitar your dad bought you, the guitar your dad taught you to play, the guitar that you played to him and with him as you sang together. You knew he wouldn’t want you to stop playing, but you couldn’t bear the thought of playing it without him there to listen.

So you closed your eyes and imagined he was there with you, listening and smiling, as your fingers found the first chord on the neck of the guitar and you played it. Then the next. And the next. And you were doing it. You were playing the song. Now all you had to do was sing. You saw your dad’s smile and you knew you could do it.

“If I ever were to lose you,

I’d surely lose myself.”

Then suddenly there was a loud smash of glass on the floor behind you and you jumped, spinning around violently to see Jay stood in the doorway over some shattered glass.

“What the hell, Jay?! You scared the shit outta me.” You shouted, a hand over your racing heart.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just wanted to hear you sing.” He smiled sympathetically, walking a little further in to lean against the chest of drawers in the corner.

“Shut your mouth. Like hell you did. You just wanted something to make fun of me for.” You huffed, frowning, as you moved to put away your guitar. You could feel the unjustifiable anger bubbling deep inside you at him hearing you, allowing yourself to be so careless as to let him in the first place.

“What? No, of course not. It was really beautiful, and I’ve never really heard you sing before.” He said cautiously as he came to sit beside you on the couch, taking a hold of your hands to stop you putting away the guitar. He could tell you were annoyed, and though he wasn’t sure why, he knew to tread carefully, as he seemingly had hit a nerve.

“Yeah, well, I don’t do it around other people, at least not since I was younger.” You said softly, feeling guilty for shouting at him.

“With your dad?” He asked. He knew all about the story with your father, minus the part where you sang to him before he died. You couldn’t bring yourself to relive that if you didn’t have to. But now you did have to. You couldn’t let Jay be in the dark about it any longer. All he had ever been was supporting and caring to you, and you felt ready to let him in fully.

“Yeah.” You whispered, not trusting your voice. You shuffled in closer to him, and he let go of your left hand to wrap his arm around you, and then you took a deep breath. “I, erm, haven’t played my guitar since the day my dad died. He asked me to play it to him whilst he was in hospital, because he couldn’t do it himself like before he got sick. And on his last day, I played him that song you just heard; it was one of his favourites. Not that he was conscious. He’d been knocked out cold with meds for days by then. After, we said goodbye and took him off life support. And I could never bring myself to play my guitar since.”

Silence followed, allowing him to process and you to recover. He kept rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, showing you support without using his words.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “But wouldn’t he want you to keep playing? For him?”

“He would, that’s why I’m trying now.” You pulled away slightly and smiled at him. “He’d have liked you, y’know? He really would.”

“I’m sure the feeling would be mutual.” He returned your smile.

Every day he reminded you of the wonderful man he is; caring, funny, kind, smart. But he also showed you he loved you, that he trusted you. And so you did the same.

You sat up, retrieving your guitar and laying it on your lap once more. You glanced over to him and smiled.

“This was also one of his favourites.” You told him, and then you started to play.

 “Talking away,

I don’t know what,

I’m to say I’ll say it anyway,

Todays another day to find you.

Shying away,

I’ll be coming for your love okay.

 Take on me,

Take me on.

I’ll be gone,

In a day or two.

 Needless to say,

I'm odds and ends,

But I'll be stumbling away,

Slowly learning that life is okay.

Say after me,

It's no better to be safe than sorry.

 Take on me,

Take me on,

I'll be gone,

In a day or two,

In a day or two.”

 When you finished, you sighed deeply, a half-sad, half-loving smile spreading across your face as you turned towards Jay. He was sat in an awestruck daze, smiling back at you as you put your guitar away in the case. When you sat back up, he shifted closer to you, gently taking your cheek in his palm as he gazed into your eyes, running his thumb softly over your cheek.

“I think I love you.” He murmurs.

You scoff jokingly and roll your eyes teasingly. “Well, you better bloody love me, Halstead. We’ve moved in together.”

He chuckles, and you can feel his warm breath brush over your cheek.

“I do. I love you. And I’ll keep saying it, even when you’re sick of hearing it.”

“I’ll never get sick of hearing it, Jay, because I love you too.” You whispered, smirking as you leaned in to kiss him. He met your lips with his, kissing you lovingly, assuring that you knew you were it for him, as he was it for you.

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagines #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fluff #Chicago PD #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead fanfiction

[mrneighbourlove]

Metal Rider: Ch 1. The New Client

"Alright. Smile for the camera. Three, two, one." The light of the lens flashed, capturing the image of the family company. The photographer shook his head, raising a brow at the lead woman. "Ms. Tablitha. Please straighten your back. You're the shining new star. I swear wild animals follow the rules better."

"Okay, if it's so easy, you try sitting straight in this dress." Asakonigei huffed, trying to adjust a bit more comfortably on the chair in a so-called 'graceful' pose. "In heels, a dress, a push-up bra, and ten pounds of jewelry to be exact."

"Come on, dear, it's not that bad, is it?" Ragulul asked his niece. "We need you as our star for the new column in the magazine."

"Yes, there's too many pictures of old farts anyhow." Valeken assured her. "A pretty lady is exactly what we need."

"Dad, I'm sure I can put on a dress and look ten times better." Bodacin snickered, teasing his cousin. "What do you think, Asa? I could rock it."

"And those heels." Marmosel laughed, nudging Asa in the shoulder.

"Oh, shut it." Asa punched her cousin in the arm.

Kahli adjusted his camera, trying his best to tune out the immaturity. "Let's go again. Three. Two. One." He took another photo, looking unimpressed. "Adequate. Don't quit your day job for a career as a model. Mr. Tablitha. I'll take this down to the print shop and have her photo ready."

"Oh, come on, I just know you want me in a dress like Marilyn Monroe standing over a grate." Bodacin threw an arm around Kahli's shoulders. "I'd be an overnight sensation."

"There'd be overnight reports of sudden blindness." Marmosel joked, earning a giggle from Asakonigei.

Kahli shoved the man off him, gathering up his equipment. "Childish."

Outside, a tall man with red hair, gruff cut facial hair and a black suit waited sitting outside a limo. Smoking a cigarette, he silently watched Kahli walk out the building. This new client of his told him to wait outside the building. "Tablitha industries, huh?"

The brothers shared a laugh while the uncles paid Kahli for his services. Once the photos were finished, Asakonigei went to change back into her business attire instead of the dress that screamed 'millionaire desperate housewife' as she so eloquently put it. Not far behind Kahli was Ragulul, the elder of the two uncles. "Ah, you must be Mister Dragmire, yes?"

"Malik Dragmire. Limo service. I was told you may have wanted an ongoing service."

"Yes, please, follow me to my office." Ragulul motioned for the man to come along into the building. "I require a limo for my niece. She's the quote on quote, 'face of the company', and responsible for bringing in new clients. Yet, while I understand that she is very capable of taking care of herself, one can never be too careful."

Malik did so, slowly walking behind the man. His presence was immediately intimating, casting an aura of menace. Least, that was the expression on his face. "You're a rich company. Rich face needs a rich ride."

"Indeed, though despite our 'richness' as you put it, one also requires safety." As the two men rode the elevator up to Ragulul's office, he then stated, "On your resume, I noted that you were a fighter of mixed martial arts. You served three years before released early on good behavior. Yet, all charges against you were dropped due to newfound evidence. You drive the limo for parties, proms, and other clients in the area." He then asked, "What would it take for you to be exclusive for my niece's appointments throughout the week?"

Malik eyes narrowed down on the man. "You look into my background? Best you keep it spoken at that." Looking over some papers, Malik looked up. $1,500 dollars a day. $500 for gas and repairs on the limo. $1000 for my service. Doesn't matter how little I drive the client."

"Would you hire some random stranger, who may or may not be trustworthy, to drive your niece everywhere, everyday, before looking into him?" Ragulul seemed unfazed by Malik's tone or price. "Very well. That is agreeable. You will be here at 7:30 in the morning to await my niece. If she is not being driven, you follow her into appointments. If she works late, you wait with her. If she calls you in the middle of the night to be driven to the airport, you go. Any location, you drive. Understood?"

"Understood." Malik grabbed the papers, signing his work contract.

~

Cleaning the blood off his knuckles, Malik flipped his out from his pocket. Seemed Ms. Tablitha finally wanted his service. Good timing too. After texting he'd be there in 15 minutes, Malik wrapped cleaned up, got in his limo, and drove up the highway to pick her up. Sitting in the front, he unlocked the back door as he saw her coming out of the building.

Asakonigei had her huge tote pocketbook over her shoulder and heels in the other hand as she hurried to the limo. She was dressed in business attire, consisting of a white blouse, black skirt, transparent tights, and her hair pulled back into a long tail with hoop earrings dangling to her shoulders. In one ear was a bluetooth device, walking as she spoke to the client. She was currently doing damage control, the client fussing over supposedly a less than appealing set of doors for the custom-made car he ordered. Holding onto Malik's arm, she balanced herself while slipping on the heels.

"No, Mister Kiys, I understand, I'm heading that way now to personally inspect the doors myself." Asakonigei assured the picky man. "I'll be there within a half hour." Once the phone call was over, the petite woman then cleared her throat and quickly put on the other heel. "Thank you."

Malik nodded, leading her to the back door. "I have some water bottles in the back if you need to drink."

"You're a lifesaver, though I may need a beer after this." Asakonigei slid into the limo and then slumped into the seat with an audible sigh. "I'm hoping this is just a fluke and the old man is going senile."

Malik got into the front, turned on the limo, tapped in the coordinates into the GPS, and started driving. As they were heading down the road, he resumed his playlist, playing, "Take Me Home, Country Roads."

"... you know, I wouldn't have guessed you enjoyed country music." Asakonigei tried to keep a straight face, but with all the memes surrounding that particular song, it was impossible not to snicker. "Don't forget to take the ten second inhale before screaming 'West Virginia'."

Malik didn't sing along to the song, even as said 'West Virginia' beat played on. Turning onto the highway, the neon city light shined down on them. The next song that turned on was "Somebody That I Used to Know", only it had a synth edge to it.

"... You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness ..." He mumbled as the bar passed by.

As soon as the limo pulled up to the destination, Asakonigei barely had time to pull Mister Kiys' file before trouble started. The old man was out there waiting for her, arms crossed and foot tapping. Taking a breath, she put on her best smile and told herself this was nothing new. This particular client was picky and very selective.

Malik put on his shades, turned the limo off and got out. “You prefer me at the car or at your side miss?”

"You can come with me if you like." Asakonigei sighed and started to ask Mister Kiys how he was, but his tirade started before she could even start.

"The doors! What kind of work did you send me?" The old man huffed at the woman, shaking a finger. "You shouldn't hire ex-cons to do an honest man's work! They're costing you time and money." He gestured to her to follow him to the warehouse where the materials he bought to make cars were stored. "Look at all the warps in the metal!"

Malik chose to follow, glancing around at the cars. His shades hid his eyes from looking directly on Asakonigei. He was curious what kind of woman she was under pressure.

"Mister Kiys, I assure you, if there was a problem on my end of the work, then it will most assuredly be fixed." Asakonigei inspected the doors. What Mister Kiys said was true, there were warps. It looked like whoever was working on this model of door frame was doing a half-assed job. Great. If this pair was bad, she could only imagine what the others might look like. "It seems you are correct, MIster Kiys. This is not the greatest of work, yet we will send you new doors, free of charge. I will personally inspect the doors before the pairs are shipped here."

"Hmph." Mister Kiys still did not look too impressed. "When you find the man who did this, you should fire him. You need someone trustworthy and someone who does decent work."

"I do agree the individual who did this needs a lecture."

"How fast can I get new doors?"

"I'll see to it that you have them by the end of the week."

Seems she was able to keep her cool and analyze the problem in front of her quickly. Grabbing a paper cup, Malik poured himself a drink to parch his lips.

"I don't understand why you insist upon hiring these people..." Mister Kiys grumbled under his breath. "I'm surprised they haven't stolen from you."

"If they do steal from us, it's a straight, one-way ticket back to prison." Asakonigei reminded her client patiently. "We're trying to do a good thing."

"It's more like they're simply taking advantage of your good nature."

Malik casually nodded to the cute front desk girl eying and smiling at him. Green hair wasn’t his thing, but he appreciated the nod. Grabbing a paper, he flipped through the local news as Asakonigei continued talking. With a chuckle, he laughed at the Calvin and Hobbes comic.

Once Asakonigei was done with Mister Kiys, the face of Tablitha Industries was ready to throttle someone. Once Malik escorted her back to the limo, she then instructed, "Mister Dragmire, take me to the factory, please. I need to speak with my employees about this subpar work."

“Of course.” Driving down the road, he couldn’t help but smile rubbing the wheel. “You know, this limo is a Kikai Industries Model. Good company.”

"I've heard a great many things about Kikai." Asakonigei nodded. "We used to work with them until the scandal was exposed about embezzling money."

“Scandal? That was dismissed in court.”

"While it was dismissed in court, it still doesn't explain where all the money went. It hurt our company and several others." Asakonigei shook her head. "My uncles lost nearly 30 million dollars with Kikai."

“Well, Onaga Kikai was forced to step down. Maybe you’d do better with his successors. Heard they’re a close family of siblings now.” Smooth Criminal was about to play, but Malik switched the song to Poker Face. “Eh, bad taste.”

"Perhaps. Yet, it has to be a joint decision." Asakonigei did not sound too keen on trying to go back into business with someone who had hurt her family's lifelong work of building up an empire from the ground. "My uncles and cousins might not want to try to rebuild that bridge that someone else burned."

“Well, can’t fault you there.” Pulling up back at the factory, Malik followed Asakonigei closely behind.

"Wear this." Asakonigei handed Malik a mandated safety hat and a pair of protective glasses. "Each time you go into the factory, you need to wear these. You never know when something might fall or you could get a face full of welding sparks. Understand?"

“Uuuh, sure.” Malik complied, awkwardly putting the helmet and goggles on.

"... your hat is backwards." Asakonigei noticed the man was such a hulk, he had to hold the safety glasses in-between a thumb and index finger. "Bend down here and I'll help you."

Malik frowned, turning it around. “I’m fine.”

"Stay on the walkway and don't wander off." Asakonigei slid her card to open the factory door. "Don't touch anything. Just stay with me. A lot of this equipment can be dangerous."

“You got it.”

 Once inside the entryway, Asakonigei power walked down the designated area for walking, outlined by two yellow lines, streaked through with white. As she continued through the factory, a lot of the workers paused in their task to greet her or politely waved. However, she was a woman on a mission. Each employee had a serial number for the work produced. And a certain employee was about to get a royal chewing out for his crappy craftsmanship.

 Malik walked behind her, actually recognizing a couple people in the assembly line.

 "Mister Urgo!!!" Asakonigei's voice was so stern and loud that a few of the other employees nearly jumped out of their skin. Several of them were either grimacing or muttering a soft prayer for Urgo's job because he was in serious trouble.

 Mister Urgo nearly dropped his welding torch. "Damn it---sorry for the language, Miss Tablitha." Urgo apologized for the foul words. "What can I do for you?"

 "Did you sign off on the shipment to Mister Kiys?" Asakonigei had her hands on her hips, a dark scowl on her face. "I... might have."

 "Did you or did you not? It's a yes or no answer, Mister Urgo."

 "Yes, yes, I signed off on the doors! Why? What's the matter?"

 "Those so-called doors were warped, Mister Urgo. What happened?"

 Malik took out a note book, charting his work schedule so far for the day.

 Excuses. That's what Urgo said. All she heard were excuses. It only made Asakonigei madder. "Mister Urgo, when I gave you this job, I expected exemplary work. What you signed off on not only made me look bad to Mister Kiys, it made the entire company look faulty, lazy, and worst of all, cheap." Asakonigei's scolding could be heard from the other side of the factory due to the echo. "You have two choices. You can take a demotion, or you can quit."

 "But---!"

 "Which will it be, Mister Urgo?"

 Malik glanced down at the man; his eyes cold. He hoped he had the common sense to take the demotion.

 "The... the demotion, Miss Tablitha." Urgo gulped when the newest addition to the company glared at him with eyes of hell. "I'll take that, please."

 "... you're back on janitor duty starting tomorrow. Go home." Asakonigei instructed the ex-con with a frown. "I'm disappointed in you, Mister Urgo. I expected better."

 As Asa gleamed over the others, Malik watched the ex-con walk by. Least he still had a job.

"Everyone, back to work." Asakonigei instructed. "Due to Mister Urgo's negligence, you will have to pick up his orders as well. I trust you can do this? I will be happy to pay you overtime."

 "Yes, yes, Miss Tablitha."

"Good. Don't forget about the mandatory check ins with your parole officers coming up at the end of the month." She reminded the employees. "Also, this Friday is the company picnic. Bring your families."

Malik checked his watch. 9PM. “Anything else you need Ms. Tablitha?”

"Drive me home, please." Asakonigei reminded Malik. "I have to be in downtown tomorrow for an appointment at 9am."

Getting in the car, Malik played some light music as they drove off. “So I can take Friday off then if you’ll be sticking around for the family picnic?”

"Mister Dragmire, you are an employee of Tablitha Industries, correct?"

“I’m on a week’s contract to start. That hardly qualifies me for company picnic status.”

"Regardless of your status, it would be bad taste to refuse." Asakonigei looked at his face from using the rear-view mirror. "Not to mention, it's free food."

He appeared to be a man who thought it was amusing, but ultimately below him. “The amount of money you’re paying me I can have all the food I want at home.”

"Suit yourself then." Asakonigei then said in a most sly tone. "I'd just... hate to call you in on your day off. For work related purposes, of course. Never know when you might run out of ice for the cooler."

Stopping at a red light, Malik took a look back at Asakonigei, studying her in the blink of an eye. “Sometimes a man needs his time off to be alone.” A light smile, he caught something. “That ring on your finger? Shouldn’t you be happy with your family instead of worrying about the help?”

"A man alone is always up to something, usually no good. At least, that's what my uncles say." Asakonigei knew that he was thinking about her, wondering what was going through her head. "I can tell just from looking at you that you've been in too many fights. Those knuckles have seen better days. Besides, what could it hurt to mingle?" When he remarked on the ring, she laughed. "Just because I'm getting married doesn't mean I'm going to stop working."

Turning back to the green light, his shoulders dropped. “Maybe I rather fight to break a sweat then go around mingling with complete strangers. Besides. I don’t have any family to bring.”

"It doesn't matter if you don't have anyone to bring, a lot of the men don't. It's just for good measure." Asakonigei reminded him. "And fighting won't solve everything in life, Mister Dragmire."

“Makes me money and it’s a fun activity.” Pulling up to her house, he turned back to her. “Pick you up at 9AM?”

"Yes, you'll be taking me around downtown to do some errands." Asakonigei started gathering her things. "Bring a book. You'll be doing a lot of 'hurry up and wait' tomorrow."

“Fine by me. Need me to walk you up the stairs little girl?”

"Little? I'm by no means little, Mister Dragmire." Asakonigei then shrugged, totally jesting. "Though you could just carry me up to my apartment. My feet are very sore."

“Your lover won’t protest?”

"My fiance is working late tonight. Besides, he doesn't live with me yet." Asakonigei shook her head as she took down her hair and removed her earrings, placing the jewelry into her bag. "We're looking for a new place together."

“Ms. Tablitha. What would the neighbours think?” Malik had a cheeky tone to him.

"And what makes you think I care what they think of me?"

“Rumours spread. Sometimes, people think what they want. And what they think puts you into trouble, regardless either or not they are true.” Unlocking the door for her, he waved her off. “See you in the morning.”

"Have a good night, Mister Dragmire." Asakonigei gave him a light smile. "I hope you sleep well. Get plenty of rest."

________________________________________________________________

Brand new Modern AU with @ridersoftheapocalypse! Very excited to start this story!

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/643135695872049153/metal-rider-ch-2-mr-chauffeur

#ridersoftheapocalypse #Modern AU #Malik #Klinge #Asakonigei

[onefineday20]

Ally [ Tanya X Mubaek ]

(A/N) : this is also available on my wattpad under the same u/n.

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

Anxious thoughts came crowding into my mind, no one is on my side here. I needed an ally who can keep taps on tagon, preferably someone already on his side. I tapped my feet under the table, raking my brain for answers. Who would be willing to betray tagon and join my side? The first name that flashed in my mind was none other than “saya". I sighed, saya is no better than tagon, they're tarred with the same brush, after all he's “the devil's spawn". I can't trust saya, he never takes sides unless there's something in it for him, he's always running after his own benefits. He didn’t hesitate to kidnap my people as hostages before, and he'd do it again if given the chance. I can't look at him without attributing his cruelty and apathy to eunseom. Oh eunseom, I wish you were here. I choked back a sob, now is not the time to drown in a stream of my own sorrows, I need to pull myself together and think rationally.

I walked into the balcony, getting some fresh air might help me gather my thoughts. I tightened my hands around the icy railing, allowing the coldness to chill my bones. The cool of the morning numbed my face to the point where I lost sense in it. I flitted my gaze skywards, in hope to get an answer from our great mother “the great white wolf".

“Who could be my ally?” as expected the sky didn’t open up and eject out a messenger carrying an answer. Disappointed, I squeezed my eyes shut. I knew that joining hands with taealha wasn’t an option either. Tagon might be oblivious to this, but taealha’s abilities makes me regard her as an even bigger threat than him. She's crafty and sharp, and not someone you can mess with.

Shivery and demoralised, I peeled my numb hands off the railing , in order to withdraw to my chamber. My gaze strayed downward, and fell on the figure of a man heading towards the temple entrance. I rejoiced seeing the face of the man who'd make an ideal ally, just the person I have been looking for. He's almost the only person who could possibly challenge tagon's authority. With the daekan's under his command, he is a fearless, and a highly respected warrior by the people. How come he never crossed my mind?

“YANGCHA!!!” not a second was wasted towards putting my plan into motion. Yangcha bulldozed in at my call “inform mubaek that I want to see him immediately” with a slight bow of his head, “tagon's spy" was gone. I grubbed for a brush, and a small pouch containing some lip paint in a small jar, and daubed it on my lips, to add a touch of life to my pale complexion. I had made up my mind, and the gentle knock on the door made me even more resolute “COME IN"

The barrel-chested, tangle-haired warrior raised a hand in greeting and bowed, always from a safe distance away “tanya niruha, you asked for me?” I can’t believe I’m about to do this, I plucked up my courage and pointed to the chair right across from me “you might want to sit down for this, I’m about to ask you to make a very tough decision”

He just stood by the door fixing me with an unblinking stare, did I overdo it with the lip paint? He finally broke the silence “I’ll be well niruha, but you have something on your teeth" oh great!!! I picked up my ornate mirror, and turned my back to him, wiping the pink smudge from my teeth. He politely waited until I was done. I presumed my authoritative aura again “what I wanted to tell you is, I’m going to strike tagon, but I’m going to an ally"

“And you want me to be that ally?” he finished off my sentence “yes, I have a plan, but I can't do it without your help, I need you"

“I need to hear your plan first, what do you have in mind?” I filled him in on my plan, and he listened intently to my every word. “We need to be chary if we don’t want tagon to find out about our plan, if we meet up too often, that'll raise his suspicions”

He stroked his beard “and what do you propose? I'm listening” I forced the words out of my mouth in a half-whisper “marry me!?”

“pardon???” “we should get married to join our powers, and dismiss any doubts in tagon" he smiled like he’d just heard a really funny joke, I knew he wouldn’t take my words seriously. I continued “isn't that what you people do here, marry for power or wealth. Asa mot and tagon did it, so why can't we?”

“Isn't it more suspicious if I marry you out of the blue?” he remarked. “Listen, I’m not asking you to love me, I’m just proposing it for the sake of our cause. I know you don't tagon to be a king either, if he seizes all power, he's going to wreak havoc in the union. As you may already know, he doesn’t trust me either. He has planted yangcha to spy on me, he'll get rid of me when I’m no longer valuable to him"

I took his hands in mine “I need to protect my people, so please think about it until tomorrow, and if you agree, meet me in front of tagon's residence"

Next afternoon right after I had my lunch and the maid cleared the table, a knock sounded on my door. I opened it and found myself face-to-face with mubaek “what are you doing here?”

“I came to escort you” I couldn’t help but smile when he held the door for me, then joined me by walking side by side all the way to tagon's residence. Our high status granted us access to the residence without raising any suspicious, and we paced the corridors awaiting tagon's arrival. I glared at yangcha who was still on our tail, and complained loud enough for him to hear “does he have nothing better to do, why is he still following us? I swear it he'd follow me to the bathroom if he could” Mubaek shook his head in laughter “he's just doing what tagon ordered him to, don't give him a hard time"

Quirking an eyebrow in yangcha's direction,I lowered my voice to a whisper “see, that's precisely why I proposed marriage as a solution, or else yangcha won't leave us alone"

With downcast eyes, he asked again “are you positive you’re making the right choice? You're still young I don't want you to regret making a rash decision later on"

I rubbed my hands together muttering “I won't"

“They're coming, think quick, how are you going to cause a scene?” he urgently demanded, I remembered what I told him yesterday about “causing a scene” To make our story more believable.

“By doing this, they'll believe we're in love" I inched closer to him, cupping his face in my hands, and despite his shell-shocked expression, I planted a kiss on his lips. His undesirous body language soon turned submissive as he played along with my ruse. Our efforts paid off when taealha’s titter rang loud enough to startle me and break our kiss. I feigned innocence like I had just been caught by my parents, doing something that I shouldn’t be doing “the high priestess and the brutish old warrior, who would’ve thought?!” She observed still giggling.

“so you two want to get married?” Tagon sought an answer from his position at the head of the long table in his work room.

I nodded “that's true" upon hearing my confirmation, saya dropped a book with a thud. I completely ignored him when he dusted it off, and gave a half-hearted apology.

Tagon did a steeple with his hand, seemingly noticing saya's reaction to the news “you know tanya, if you wanted to get married, the best candidate for you would be my son, after all you’re friends and of the same age" he gestured to saya in the far corner of the room. I gave saya a sideways glance, his expression was unreadable, marry the devil's spawn? No thanks.

“I'm into older men" I blurted out “and we're in love with each other” mubaek entwinedour hands and squeezed them, he tried his best to sound convincing, but I could tell he was cringing from embarrassment.

“I'm so envious of you two" taealha said under her breath, downing a glass, and pouring another. Tagon clapped his hands on the table, and stood up “will then it's settled, you have my blessing. Saya, you're in charge of the wedding preparations. A high priestess must have a grand wedding. I'll trust you with it son"

Saya merely nodded unwillingly. Tagon walked over to mubaek and hugged him with a broad smile “congratulations my old friend, you're finally getting married, it's right about time"

Saya wasn't pleased about any of this, I should watch him closely, in case he tries to sabotage the wedding.

I spent the following days preparing for the wedding, amid a flurry of activity, and a shower of congratulations, and wishes for a happy life from the people, the wahans, and the daekans. I saw my father when we went to the fortress of fire to ask for his blessing. He seemed particularly pleased with my match and welcomed him by heaping praises, and speaking highly of him. But when he mentioned my mother, I broke. I wish she was here with me at this time, it's a tough thing for a girl to get married without having her mother around, fussing about with the dress and the preparations.

Just a day before the wedding, I realized I was right about saya's intention in sabotaging my marriage. I was in my chamber getting my gown measurements for the last time, just in case something needs to be fixed before tomorrow. Saya loitered about not helping with anything in particular, all he did was make my blood boil. I was done with my gown, and sat before two large boxes of jewellery at my disposal, to choose from. I took a pair of dangly earrings, with a green precious stone in the centre. I was about to try it on, when saya handed me another pair of silver and sapphire blue earrings “this would go better with your gown" I tried it on and it looked perfect, he really has an eye for these stuff.

I admired the glistering jewels in the mirror, when saya's hands slid over my shoulders, kneading them “why do you want to marry that world-weary old man all of a sudden? Do you really love him?” he sneered close to my ears, giving me the shivers. I stood up and moved towards the balcony, taking my time to regain my composure, I answered with my back turned to him “yes, I love him. He has shown me nothing but kindness since I arrived here"

He tightened his arms around my waist “and what about me?” his voice cracked, is he jealous??

“I'm sorry, I don’t feel that way about you" I uttered flatly. When I turned to look him in the face, he was flushed, his lips trembled with the ghost of unspoken words, my words must’ve stung him deeply. He leaned forward, invading all body space, a dark look passed his face “does he feel the same way about you? Knowing you have cursed his brother, his only family, to death?” my hand instinctively flew to slap him across the cheek. His mad laugh echoed through the empty chamber. A moment later the dark look in his eyes softened, and he seemed to be on the verge of tears, when he clutched my hand and rubbed against the red mark on his cheek. When he spoke this time, his speech was frenzied, I realized how desperate he was to stop this marriage “it's not too late to change your mind, marry me instead , we'll take down taealha and tagon, and rule this land as king and queen. I have a better change of succeeding the throne as tagon’s son. What can that lowly warrior of a minority tribe give you that I can't?”

I couldn’t take it anymore, I pushed him away “saya, plea..se please leave, I need to rest, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow”

I cried myself to sleep that night, part of me felt sorry for saya, and another part longed to be reunited with eunseom again.

My royal blue wedding gown greeted me first thing in the morning, I put it on with the help of four obliging priestesses. It's long sleeves satin sleeves, were veiled with a layer of delicate, thin lace. The lace covered the upper part of the gown, ending around my waist, where the velvety satire flowed all the way to the bottom.

Saya handpicked the fabrics and had it tailored for me. Speaking of saya, he waltzed in while I was busy wearing my jewellery, appearing to be oddly cheerful. He didn’t seem to have a chip in the shoulder about what happened last night. Not to mention the color of his attire matched mine, in fact our entire attires seemed to be designed for a couple. His royal blue attire was matched with a golden brocade giving him a regal look, he was always fashionable, but I couldn’t help but feel he was overdressed for a wedding that wasn’t his.

“you look beautiful” he chirped “and you'll be mine soon" his weren’t moving but I heard the last part loud and clear, because they were his thoughts. My heart lurched, has he done something to the wahans or mubaek?

The abruptness of my movement, knocked my chair over as I stood up “what are you up to?” I spat out.

“Why do you mean?” his fake friendly smile unsettled me. “niruha?” mubaek’s head peeked through the door, I heaved a sigh of relief “yes?” I tried to force a smile.

“It's time" he announced, crossing the room in a couple of strides. Saya looked between us both smirked, and took his leave.

“What's wrong?” he asked once saya was out of our way. “I think saya is up to something, ‘you'll be mine soon’ those were his thoughts. He wants me, I’m worried he'll either try to harm you or my people to get to what he wants. So before we go, I want to cast a protection spell on you”

“a protection spell?” “yes, it's just something my mother used to do when I was a child, I’m not sure if it's effective, but do you mind if I try it?”

“No I don't mind, if it puts your mind at ease" I took both his hands in mine “our great mother asa sin, the great white wolf. I tanya of wahan your direct descendant implore you with a heart rendered heavy with worry to protect this man from all evil that may befall him.

May all swords trained at his neck turn to ash

May all arrows aiming his way lose their path

May all eyes spying on him be cursed blind

May fear be instilled into the hearts of his enemies at his sight

And may all schemes of betrayal against him turn on their schemer

When I call this man my husband I tie his fate to mine" I released his hands, and slipped on my cashmere cloak, the ceremony was about to begin.

We ascended the podium hand in hand, determination burned in our eyes. I raised our interlocked hands above our heads, the crowd roared with shouts of respect and admiration. The people loved me, and now I had mubaek by my side, tagon your reign of chaos is coming to an end, on my hands.

#arthdal #arthdal chronicles #tanya #mubaek #kdrama #korean drama #korean #drama korea #netflix #kim jiwon #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #park haejoon

[kaytewrites]

easy as the breeze [asa&honor]

a short piece about my centaur bard, asa, having trouble sleeping on a ship, and honor, tiefling fighter, helping him through the worst of it; also features whitechapel, kagonesti elf ranger.

rating: G warnings: none word count: 1735

Nighttime is probably the worst part of being on the ship.

Scratch that, it is the worst part. Because even though Whitechapel spends most of his time above deck on watch anyway, there’s still that strange four hours where he comes down and goes into his elfy deep meditation that it’d take a hurricane to break him from. (And by hurricane, Asa means a breeze as light as a damn butterfly’s wing. The man sleeps lighter’n a feather).

And that’s not the worst part. Asa’s traveled with Whitechapel before, knows the man’s strangeness and has worked around it for years now, even when he was barely out of colthood and didn’t know the right end of a sword. And it’s not even sharing it with Honor, too, because Honor’s nothing if not polite to a fault and doesn’t make a peep outta turn.

Nah, it’s not that. It’s the space.

Centaurs weren’t made for small spaces. Creepin’ below decks like some kind of biped human and nestlin’ beneath reams of wood inside what seems the tiniest wooden bucket on this sea is the last thing, last thing Asa wants to do. If he’d known exactly how he would react to being at sea, he would’ve never taken the contract.

That’s a lie. He would always have taken the contract. He’s bad as a bloodhound for sniffing out trouble and jumping right in.

But still. Centaurs are made for open plains, clopping through wide streets, tipping their hats to pretty ladies to watch ‘em smile and giggle. Asa’s one of ‘em. Centaurs weren’t made for this. Every time he hears the ship sway and creak like some breathing, living thing, he wants to swarm up the decks and get out, out, out.

He’d tried humming the first night, strumming at his lyre idly, plucking out lullabies he remembers from his childhood. That stopped real quick as soon as Whitechapel glared at him. The second night, he fidgeted restlessly, and nearly resorted to trying to find that drink they had a cask of from Tinnsport before eventually passing out.

The third night, it’s Honor who tries to help.

He’d stayed out on deck long as he dared, taking up first watch and dipping dangerously into second, watching Whitechapel stroll onto the deck and give him a silent nod.

“All’s clear, cap’n Whitechapel,” he grins at him, and gets a raised eyebrow in response. Asa tutts, still smiling. He can count on a hand the times he’s gotten that dour elf to smile at him in the past five-six years. Tonight’s not gonna be the night he adds another. Especially not with how much he’s loathing the idea of going back below decks.

“Get some rest, Asa,” Whitechapel says, and Asa tips his hat and cants himself upright.

“That sounds like a damn fine idea,” he says, stretching and yawning to cover the fine tremble in his limbs. If anyone notices, they’ll just see a novice at sea, plagued with fatigue. No fear here, no sirree. Asa is just fine.

“I have sedatives,” Whitechapel offers, gruff and forward and kind in that tactless way of his. (He can hide it all he wants - Asa can hear him now. I only offered it to make you stop being annoying and sleep. I prefer you unconscious. Naw, Asa don’t believe it. Whitechapel cares. He just won’t let himself admit it.)

Asa considers it for all of half a second before shaking his head. “Naw. Makes me too foggy. Thank you kindly, though, bestest friend.” He tips his hat to Whitechapel again, watches the scowl grow on his face, and saunters over to the door below decks before the elf can look him in the eyes and see how much he wanted to take them.

He escapes to the corral, finding his stall open and Honor already tucked neatly into the cot. He settles down into the blankets and pillows he’s nested up around the hay, pulls his coat off and folds it neat like his Ma taught him (Always take care of your coat, kiddo, and she’d pat his shoulder and his horseback, never underestimate the value of a good traveling coat.) and sets his hat down on top of it. He settles against the pillows, closes his eyes, and waits for sleep.

It doesn’t come.

He hears what seems like every creak in the boat. Hears the water sloshing against the sides, feels the sway of the ocean and the persistent uneasiness that comes with it. He wants to open his eyes again, but he knows he’ll just see the tight-pressed walls of the ship around him and want the sky, want the ground, something he can feel under his feet and chart and map like his Pa taught him, how to measure the ground with each step and put that to paper, but you can’t do that with ocean, it’s all just - endless -

He hears a thud and an oddly toneless “Ow.” before he’s opening his eyes and looking around, panic making the edges of his vision wobble. Honor is on the ground, staring at Asa with a measure of concern in his silver eyes.

Asa can see where the cot has fallen, one leg kicked out from underneath it. His offending hoof is still extended, and he pulls it back with an embarrassed flush to his cheeks.

“Aw, hell, Honor, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, frustrated with himself. He’s actin’ like a damn foal. He reaches over to look at the edge of the cot, and he’s broken clean through the wood of the leg. “Shit. Asa, over here makin’ a mess as usual.”

Honor looks between him and the broken leg of the cot. Asa focuses down on it, pressing the leg to the stump, willing magic into it to knit it back together. He knows he could do it, there’s a way - if only he’d paid a little more attention -

He feels a hand on top of his, and opens his eyes where he’d squeezed them shut.

“Are you alright, Asa?” The words are low, as soothing as Asa suspects Honor’s voice can get, and Asa swallows.

“Yeah,” he says automatically. “‘M fine, Honor, you know that. Just a - just a bad dream, I s’pose. Somethin’ or other like that.”

“Okay,” he says, and the easy acceptance of the answer makes Asa feel guilty in a vague, shameful way.

“Sorry ‘bout the bed. Guess I don’t know my own strength. Not like you do, y’know?” Asa says, and groans internally at himself when he doesn’t stop talking. He’s always moving, fidgeting, talking, and being near-panicky ain’t helpin’ none. “Bet you’d never do somethin’ like this, huh? Aw, ignore me, I’m just blatherin’ on ‘bout nothin’. ‘Swhat I do best, y’know? I could prolly talk someone to death if I tried hard enough, magic’s tricky like that-”

“Asa.” Honor’s voice is loud enough to break through the rattle of his own voice in his ears. “Are you - claustrophobic?”

“Cloosy-whatsit now?”

Honor grimaces. “Do you - not like small spaces?”

Oh. That. “Well. Can’t say they’re my favorite, but I can manage just fine, Honor - though I don’t blame you if you wanna find a different roommate.” He tacks on a laugh and a smile, but it feels fake, even to him. And something in him - balks at the idea of Honor leaving.

Honor doesn’t say anything, just stands up off the broken cot and looks down at it. Asa feels all over again like an uppity colt gettin’ scolded by the herd leader (again, Asa, do we have to do this again?) and keeps his eyes down, fiddling with the button at the bottom of his shirt.

Before Asa can blink, Honor takes the frame of the cot and just - rips the last three legs off. He sets the frame down like nothing's happened, stacks the legs in a neat pile, and arranges the thin, flimsy mattress once more. He nods once, then settles back down, laying on his back.

“Well,” Asa says, after a beat of silence, “I'll be damned.”

“Gnome can fix it in the morning.” Honor's voice drifts from the cot, already half-asleep again. Damn if Asa doesn't envy that. (Damn if Asa doesn't mind not having it, not when he knows where that came from.)

“Aw, yeah. Didn't even think of ol’ Theo.” He feels - foalish again, and can feel the panicky edge of confinement creeping into his thoughts. Think of the gnome, Asa, think of Honor, think of how careful he is every time he steps into saddle, how you've grown used to his weight, how he didn’t look at you twice for throwing up for a day and a half at sea-

(Centaurs are proud, Asa, his mama used to tell him. We bear no riders. We fight for ourselves and our herd.)

Well, mama, he thinks, looking over at Honor, I don't know about the herd, but I kinda like this one.

“Still awake?” Honor's voice sounds like a statement, but Asa can pick out the question anyway.

“‘Fraid so,” Asa sighs.

Honor frowns. He rummages through his pack for something, and comes up with two tiny bundles of tight-packed cotton. He holds them out to Asa.

Asa takes them, confused. Honor points to his ears, then the cotton. He pops them in, curious -

And, after a moment, he realizes he can't hear the waves or the creak of the ship anymore. When he closes his eyes, it feels like he's just sittin’ in one big old rocking chair.

He's so caught up in the thought of sleeping the whole night through that he startles at the touch on his arm. He opens his eyes, staring at Honor, who mimes taking the cotton out. Sheepish, he does.

“Better?” he asks, and Asa swears that's a grin on his face. He swears it.

“Thanks, partner.” Asa’s reaching out to touch him on the shoulder automatically, before he remembers himself and pulls away. He gives Honor a thumbs-up instead.

Now he knows that's a little half-smile on the tiefling’s face. Honor gives him a little thumbs up in return, and Asa could nicker with how pleased he is.

When he settles against the hay and blankets and pillows with the cotton in his ears, he swears he feels a feather-light brush against his pelt, there and gone between one heartbeat and the next.

#d&d #dnd #dungeons and dragons #dungeons & dragons #dragonlance #tiefling #centaur #elf #so did u know i love all of them so much #so. much. #artemisius rhook #honor the tiefling #whitechapel the elf