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#like my mother this summer who prefered to eat standing up rather than grab a chair in another room and bring it over
sainamoonshine · 3 years
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Ugh im so glad I have a reasonable reason to decline doing any holiday-ing this year. When I told my boyfriend that I was relieved I wouldnt have to go home this year as this always creates drama (the drama being created by me finally after many years insisting on sane boundaries and basic rules of politeness and everyone overreacting like I shot their cat), he told me that to solve the drama this year he had planned to invite them over.
Invite them. Into my home. For xmas.
Dear lord that is WORSE.
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nikethestatue · 3 years
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Depth of Your Eyes
Extreme Fluff.
Domestic fluff. Babies!
Elriel Month - Day 24
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“Why do you hate me?” lamented the feared and exalted Shadowsinger of the Night Court.
Feared and admired, worshipped for his immense Illyrian power, for his stealth and strength, he, the great and mysterious spy master, the male who made enemies tremble and flee, and females swoon, failed utterly and completely at this one task—having his chunky newborn son open his eyes for him.
When his son was born, the first thing that shocked everyone—parents and healer and midwife—was his very impressive size. How the delicate, slender, elegant Elain even managed to bear him—without much difficulty too—was a mystery.
But the Cauldron loved Elain and strove to make Elain happy. It gave Elain an almost painless labour, though it was lengthy and uncomfortable nevertheless, and while Azriel was out of his mind with worry and trepidation, not knowing whether the baby’s wings would cause damage or even more serious issues, Elain was serene and happy.
The nightmare that was Nyx’s birth was still fresh in Aziel’s mind—the blood, the gore, Nyx’s tiny lifeless body in Mor’s arms, and Feyre, with a horrific gaping slash across her abdomen, bleeding out, Death hovering just above her. Therefore, Azriel dreaded Elain’s labour. For ten months he was a wreck. He was too happy, too elated, too content, too joyful in his life, and there bound to be repercussions for all that bliss.
The baby was conceived momentarily. “Let’s make a baby,” Azriel proposed a little drunkenly to the giggling and smiling Elain. They were enjoying a glorious sunset on the sea, in a tiny town with whitewashed buildings and blue roofs, in the Summer Court. It was far from Adriata, far from visitors and everyone else and they indulged in endless white sand beaches, fresh seafood and lots of local wine, swimming in the azure waters of the sea and enough lovemaking to leave them both sore and hoarse. “Now?” Elain kissed him. He shrugged, “why not now?”
And it happened—‘now’. When they returned from their holiday, she found out that she was expecting their baby.
Azriel couldn’t lie, but he was feeling rather smug.
“What the fuck kind of seed you got, brother?” muttered Cassian. “You just knocked her up in a day?”
Azriel only shrugged innocently.
As if this was to be expected. Of course he’d impregnate her in a day! But it wasn’t at all what he thought would happen—he thought that as with all Fae, this would be a lengthy process full of false starts, crushed hopes and nerves. But the Cauldron loved Elain and wanted to make her happy.
Now, he was holding his chunky son in his arms. Calm and peaceful, the baby took after his parents in temperament. He was mellow and not fussy, docile and good-natured. His appetite was monstrous though. He ate and ate and ate. At his already great size, Azriel muttered ‘you are going to be Cassian’s size by the time you are three’. And because he ate so much, he was rather plump, to put it kindly, which meant that his hamster-like cheeks obscured his eyes. At three weeks, their baby mostly slept and ate, so periods of play and interaction were minimal—hence, Azriel’s failure to actually see the colour of his son’s eyes.
Elain claimed that the eyes were hazel. Nesta insisted that they were ‘Archeron’ eyes. Cassian’s assessment was ‘I think brown. Like dirt’. Amren went with ‘I don’t know, I didn’t look closely’. Yet they all claimed that they’d seen his eyes.
Azriel was seated on top of the covers in their bed, propped against the cushioned headboard. His wing curled around Elain, who was sleeping next to him, pressed to his side, her arm thrown over his stomach. Their son, sturdy and large, almost the size of Azriel’s forearm now, was sucking noisily, eating like he hasn’t been fed in a week. He was fed less than three hours ago.
The bottle—a new invention from Dawn—wasn’t widely used just yet, but Azriel loved it. At first, Elain was reluctant to utilize it, preferring to breastfeed at all times, but then…well, then she came to accept how convenient this bottle invention was. Especially because Azriel was a nocturnal creature and had no issues with staying up or waking in the middle of the night. And with their gluttonous son demanding food all the time, she was still able to function and rest and sleep, since he didn’t really care which way he was getting his food, as long as he was getting it.
Azriel was looking down at the delicious bundle in his arms, and thought that his baby would end up looking very much like him, if he wasn’t so chubby. Right now, he was all round and soft and filled with folds that others wanted to bite and pinch.
Cassian, in fact, did bite his nephew’s little fat wrist, and Elain caught them, warning that Cassian wouldn’t be allowed to feed him if it happened again. “but it didn’t even hurt!” he defended himself feebly. “Just a little nibble…He is such a fatty!”
“No. Biting.” ordered Elain. “Or you’ll be off bottle duty!”
That was a serious threat that Cassian took to heart, because he absolutely adored feeding the baby with the bottle. He and Nesta were enthralled with him, quietly arguing and fighting about whose turn it was to feed him next. Elain and Azriel frequently overheard ‘you did it last time!” “no, but he likes me more…” “gods above, he does not like you more! He clearly prefers me!” “he was crying with you!” “yes, that’s because you made him cry!”
“We only have two choices,” said Azriel with a sigh, watching Cassian coo and babble to the baby one day, rocking him and singing him all kinds of bawdy Illyrian songs. “We either forbid them entry into the house,” at that, Elain frowned. “Or, we just let them be and simply assume that our son’s first word will be ‘fuck’.”
Adhering to the Illyrian tradition of not naming a child until he was one month old, the baby remained nameless. Well, Elain and Azriel knew what he would be called, but speculation ran rampant.
Elain had officially asked Cassian and Nesta to be the baby’s Guardians, a very important and respected position in the Illyrian society. It would fall on Cassian to start teaching his nephew how to fly—and when Elain formally requested for him to become the Guardian, Cassian shyly teared up.
“Yes, Petal, of course,” he nodded nervously, with aching sincerity, “it would be an honour. Are you sure?” Cassian still worried, “are you sure you don’t want to ask Rhys?”
Elain embraced the General gently and lovingly, and whispered, “I’ve never been more sure of anything, Cass. Only you. I’d only trust him with you and Nesta.”
It was Elain’s right as the mother to select the Guardians for her child, so while Azriel suspected who her choice would be, he waited for the official announcement along with everyone else. Eventually, the Guardian would present their son with his first sword, and begin teaching him to fight.
“Well, I want my baby to have the best,” said Elain, kissing Nesta’s flushed cheek. “Who is better than the Commander General of the Night Court armies and the Valkyrie herself? Will you two do us the honour of accepting him into your Guardianship?”
“Yes!” both of them almost yelled their acceptance.
Now, Nesta and Cassian was preparing something grandiose for the Naming Ceremony.
But first things first.
“Hey lovie, why don’t you look at me?” murmured Azriel, rocking his son gently against his chest. At first, the baby leapt towards his nipple, received nothing from it and gave an angry squeak of disappointment.
“Sorry, my friend, at this point, I think you should already know where the good stuff comes from,” said Azriel, as he offered the bottle. “I know, I know, not the same, but close enough. Believe me, I tried it straight from the delicious source and I agree, it is much better,”
“Stop being gross,” moaned Elain, and slapped his stomach.
He laughed.
“I am not being gross. Just honest. If I can suck on your titties,”
“Oh, gods, yes, I know. You’d rather suck on my titties than a bottle. I’ve heard this before,”
“And I stand by my opinion. So does my son. He has good taste. Now, go back to sleep.”
Elain ran a sleepy hand over the edge of his wing and turned around, pressing her lush ass into his thigh.
He drew his knuckles over her cheek and she reached for his fingers with her lips, kissing them, before tumbling back into her slumber.
Gods, he loved her.
The baby didn’t like all this jostling around him, and grabbed Azriel’s hand with his stubby fat fingers, steadying him and the bottle.
“Sorry,” Azriel murmured and looked down, stroking his baby’s soft brown curl that jutted out proudly on top of his head. “Mama is such a beauty…we can’t forget her either, even with you. I love you both very much.”
The baby nodded sagely, as if agreeing with his father. Yes, indeed, his mother was gorgeous and beautiful and very nice, and required his father’s attention. It was very understandable.
But this male, this father of his—he liked him very much as well. He was very kind and he fed him and changed him, and sang songs with him, and played with him, and…well, he loved him.
Azriel was smiling softly to himself, watching the baby, and then, suddenly, his son opened his eyes and grinned at him. Grinned a huge toothless smile—his very first one. He never smiled for anyone before, but this was it.
This was for his father.
This male, who’s waited for him for a long, long time, hoping against hope that one night, he’d have him in his arms and receive this huge, satisfied smile, which was meant only for him. An undeniable, glorious reward for centuries of suffering and sadness. He grabbed his father’s scarred finger in his fist and blinked at him with the depth of his Archeron eyes.
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shirophantomvox · 3 years
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Random date night with Illumi, Hisoka, and Chrollo
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Hello, anon! Ask and you shall receive! This prompt is very interesting and I will try to keep it in character as much as possible. To sum this up, Hisoka would take you to an ice cream shop, a carnival, or apple orchard while Illumi would rather go to an art or historical museum. Chrollo would persuade you to attend a book reading/author signing or go hiking. Depending on who you are and what your ideal date is, I’m sure you’d find them all fun. Going to a carnival or apple orchard is my go-to since I’ve barely been because they’re all in the suburbs. These headcanons are explained much more than the others. That is why Chrollo and Illumi seem to be short, but they’re not. Also, I can’t wait for Halloween because these headcanons are going to be amazing. I am extremely sorry if there are grammar errors! Taking classes on Zoom is frustrating and now my brain has to relearn everything that I lost in 3 months! Before we get started, I have a few announcements.
This post is more laid back than my other headcanons because I tried to keep it as canon as possible.
I want to thank you all for 65 followers! It means a lot! I’m happy to see that a lot of you enjoy my writing and like it enough to follow me! I have a challenge for you! When I reach 100 followers, I will host some type of writing event here...but I need ideas. I’ve seen some pages do specials where you can send an ask and pretend like you're talking to a character and I respond with what they’d say. SEND ME IDEAS! I WILL CREDIT YOU!
I will be stepping back a little more than before. I’ll still be logged in and re-blogging but as far as writing posts like this...it may only be once or twice a week. You see, I’m in college and I’m struggling financially and I have to work on scholarships. If you all send me an ask, be patient.
Voltron posts will only be created based on asks. I will not be writing posts about VLD if no one requests them. I do not receive any feedback from it anymore and no one seems to like them.
Now, let’s get into the post.
Let's start with Illumi first.
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Headcanon 1: Illumi has a secret admiration for different types of art but he specifically enjoys pop art and surrealism. He has commented on how surrealism makes his brain twist and his feelings swirl as he tries to figure out the piece and what inspires it.
He prefers not to participate in tours as he likes to digest the art at his own pace.
Headcanon 2: In his spare time, he paints on a canvas. His art style consists of both surrealism and abstract art. For a person with a dark personality, his compositions always contain bright colors and abstract techniques that leave you wondering about his TRUE personality. He is truly a good man with a bright personality but after being abused for so long, those behaviors/personalities have been shoved so far down his throat that they may not come back up.
He has a bad habit of asking you what you thought about every single piece of art you passed. The conversations were great but this is a date after all. The playful conversation slowly turns into a lecture about art. Although you loved your bf’s dictionary-like brain it also drained your energy.
One of his favorite artists is Vincent Van Gough. Although he favors surrealism, Van Gogh’s art style was mind-blowing to him. So amazed that he buys several Van Gogh t-shirts from the gift shop.
His favorite piece created by Van Gough is “Starry Night”.
He notices that you are becoming bored and decides that it is time for MORE excitement, one that you are certain to enjoy.
“Where are we going,” you ask, pretending to be interested.
“Down to the basement. We are going to have a bite to eat.”
Since Illumi rarely smiled, when he did smile it drove you wild. The anticipation of what his next move was going to be is what drove that wildness. Being a bounty hunter was thrilling already but dating a smart, badass assassin was totally out of your league but it worked out.
Headcanon 3: Illumi’s idea of being romantic is dramatically different from yours. He believes just spending time with you on the couch was enough. He is correct; but if you have the time and funds, your time together should be a little spontaneous. You insisted on dates outside of the house because his family will not stay out of your business.
“Illumi, I am too hungry for more trivia.”
He chuckles. “Don’t worry. So am I. That is why I’ve decided to take you to a wine and cheese party.”
Huh? Wine and Cheese at 3PM? That’s ok. When was there a time limit on when you can drink alcohol?
Illumi has indirectly attended parties as such when he was 15 years old. He never drank, but he watched as his mother’s friends (surprisingly) talked about business and their children. This time, you weren’t going to talk about business for once. Instead, you two were going to actually talk about what couples discuss.
Headcanon 4: When introduced to alcohol for the first time, Illumi immediately stated how he hated brown liquor. That includes Hennessy, Jack Daniels, etc. It makes him sick to his stomach. He prefers to drink Smirnoff mixed with fruity drinks like strawberry or pineapple.
He loves it when you make these drinks for him on a summer day.
Hence the title wine and cheese, you both go to a stand-up table, place your brochures down, and actually have a wonderful conversation not involving work or hunting.
Illumi smiled a few times, more than usual. Whenever he appears to be softer even around you, that is because he has mellowed out and doesn't have the overbearing weight of his family on his shoulders. You set him free.
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Hisoka
According to a one-shot that another manga artist created, they expressed that Hisoka was found on the side of the road, was taken in by someone that worked at a local circus, and learned Nen in a matter of days. Hisoka’s clown look and having the skills of a magician proves that this has to be canon in some way.
Headcanon 1: Given this potential backstory, going to a carnival is his go-to every summer. He wants to take you to a circus but saves that for you as an engagement gift.
Everyone with a heart knows that whether or not you’re in a relationship or not the carnival is fun as hell! Expensive fried food, elephant ears, funnel cake, ICEE’s, rides, and stuffed animals are to die for!
Being at a carnival relaxes him so his bloodlust isn’t activated unless someone bumps into him and causes a scene.
Headcanon 2: PDA is something that Hisoka does well; he doesn’t overdo it but does it enough where people get the impression that you are a couple and aren’t “best friends”.
While completing a mission depending on how rough it may be, he insists that you tag along to see how he handles the situation. You’ve already seen his ruthlessness from Hunter’s exam but he insists.
His sense of pride gets the best of him sometimes. Sometimes his head is so big that it reminds you of a large birthday balloon.
Headcanon 3: ANYWAY, given his nature, he is very adventurous, dangerous, and courageous. If he wants to go on the Demon Drop, he’ll do it and you DO not have a choice in the matter. He’ll tease or guilt trip you into doing something that you would not like to do.
“Well, you wouldn’t want me to cling on to someone else, would you?”
“No. Of course not,” you reply.
“Let’s go then, scaredy-cat.”
As a hunter, you’ve seen worse. Why are you so afraid to go on a ride?
Headcanon 4: At apple orchards, cornfield mazes are one of his favorites. You cannot for the life of you figure out how to get out but he can. He grabs a scarecrow and scares you from behind. That annoys you but is nothing compared to later on that night.
Oh. My. God. It’s haunted house time!
“Hisoka, I’m not going in!”
“Why not? I’ll protect you.”
“Because they’re monsters and I already have to deal with one.”
It took him a second to catch on that you were talking about him.
“That’s going to bite you in the butt, kitten.”
Headcanon 5: Like Killua, Hisoka has a sweet tooth. Don’t allow his buff appearance to fool you!
He LOVES caramel apples, elephant ears, funnel cake, freshly squeezed lemonade, fudge, and cotton candy. How can this man manage to stay in shape? The world may never know.
Headcanon 6: He isn’t one to play by other people’s rules but he sets his own rules with your relationship that you both must obey. One of those rules says that neither of you can be on your phones while together.
Headcanon 7: Hisoka insists that you both wear either matching pants or matching shirts to avoid unnecessary flirtation.
He isn’t jealous but on “us time”, he doesn’t want to lose a single second.
Headcanon 8: Hisoka only jumps in when necessary. Given that you’ve passed the hunter’s exam and work as a bodyguard, he knows you can handle your business. If the person can’t take a hint, then he steps in. They almost back up immediately considering Hisoka is towering over them.
When the moon shines, you both go to the car and off to sleep in your comfy king-sized bed.
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Chrollo
We all know that Chrollo loves to read! What does he specifically like to read? What Genre? Does he like to read alone or with other people?
Although Chrollo is a thief and must be hidden in the shadows, the authorities have called off the search for him for at least 3 years. Slowly but surely, he begins to find himself in the outside world again.
Chrollo once discussed a book with the Phantom Troupe when they were being transported to another place for a mission. He read “Tears of a Tiger” by Sharon M. Draper.
The reading sessions are opened with an affirmation and a reason to be thankful to be alive. He says he is thankful for the troupe, glances at you, and smiles. No one catches on to that sly face except for Phinks.
Headcanon 1: Chrollo is very silent and shy to an extent. He only associates with people he knows and trusts. You are the social butterfly at this moment.
Chrollo tags along behind you like a shy child, holding your hand while you stick out your free hand to greet everyone.
Today, the book club was going to read “Divergent”.
Headcanon 2: Although he loves to read, he hates it when others read out loud. Most people are drably read and it annoys him. After a while, he takes over. Chrollo was tense the first 30 minutes of the meeting because two cops were there but neither of them noticed it was him.
Headcanon 3: Chrollo often acts the part of the character that he is reading in the book. His tone, attitude, and emphasis on certain words keep the group engaged. He is complimented on his acting!
“Good Job, honey,” you whisper.
He responds by tightly squeezing your hand.
His tone was so impressive that the host insisted that he read for the entire night. He was ok with that because in between reads he was often distracted by a lovely pair of jeans and shoes you had on. You were into writing, so hearing others read and act out the characters helped.
Headcanon 4: In some settings, Chrollo is very braggadocious. He insisted that the group read one of your stories so you could be provided with feedback.
“We’d be delighted to view your story, y/n!”
“It will be fun!”
The book club wasn’t a stereotypical club that only consisted of soccer moms but instead consisted of men and women who were involved with a business, law enforcement, health, etc. This was an open space for everyone to relax and forget about their demanding jobs.
After the meeting, the group went to dinner at a nearby pizzeria. You all enjoyed large pizzas, beer, salads, and dessert. How could your stomach (or anyone’s stomach) hold that much?
Chrollo laughed so much that it made you question if he was your actual boyfriend or not. He even engaged in conversations with the two off-duty cops! For once, you helped Chrollo experience the greater things in life; true love, friendship, and happiness.
“Thank you,” he whispered and slyly placed a kiss on your hand. “For everything.”
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ally22042000 · 3 years
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Linked by fate
Kindergarten
Werewolf AU
Fluff
OT7 x Reader
Pack Alpha: Namjoon Alpha: Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook Beta: Seokjin, Yoongi, Taehyung Omega: Y/N
Wordcount: 1.3K
A/N: Hey everyone, I hope you are going to enjoy this part. I’ve decided that I’m going to write every part like a one-shot, so it can be read individually. If there are any scenarios you would like to read just drop them in my requests. -Ally
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Four-year-old Kim Seokjin was happily painting on the floor, when the kid next to him accidently spilled his apple juice. A shrieked left the boy as he witnessed the fluid ruining his stick figures. The boy’s eye next to him got big and he stumbled over an apology. Desperately trying to safe the picture Namjoon squished the juice box beneath his feet. Droplets landed on Jin’s face, causing the elder to frown at the pack alpha’s kid.
A shrill laughter arouse from across the room. Jung Hoseok holding his belly, whist falling of a chair. Unfortunately, Seokjin didn’t find the humour in the situation. Right as he was about to shove the boy next to him for ruining his hard work, a pale hand holding a baby wipe appeared between them. Min Yoongi, the quite boy who always napped in the pillow corner and growled at anyone that came with in a three-foot radius of him, stood there. After a moment he basically shoved the object in Jin’s face, making it obvious what he had intended it for.
The dispute died down rather quickly and the three guys started building Lego together, the ruined drawing long forgotten. And it didn’t take long when a curious looking boy glanced over Yoongi’s shoulder. Biting his bottom lip nervously he tried to think of a way to ask them to join, but Seokjin saved him the trouble. As soon as he spotted the Hobi, he greeted him with a friendly simile and asked him to help build the kitchen of the house.
That’s how the four boys met and how their friendship started, every day from then on day played together. Creating a strong bond, that everyone smiled at. They would draw, built, and play together. Yoongi still preferred to use this time to nap, but instead of the pillows he used on of their laps for comfort.
A year later, the next group of young wolfs joined the kindergarten class. All of them were assigned one member from the older class to guide them through the year and help them with any problem that might occur.
Yours was Seokjin, the boy greeted you with a dazzling smile when both of your names were called and promised to take good care of you. He immediately grabbed you hand and ordered you to sit next to him for the rest of the year. Taking his role as your guide very seriously. Taehyung was given Yoongi, the elder wearing a prominent scowl when he realised how talk active the younger boy was. When they joined your table, the boy greeted everyone with a hug, asking a million questions.
Next was Namjoon who got introduced to Jeon Jungkook. The new kindergartener looked at the alpha with big, sparkling eyes. Knowing Namjoon’s position in your pack and not believing the honour, that he would be his guid. When they sat down next to Yoongi, Jungkook let out a whispered greeting staring at his fidgeting hands for the rest of the introduction.  
Lastly, Hoseok came over with his companion, Park Jimin, a little boy with round cheeks and happy eyes trailing behind him. They completed your table.
The eight of you slowly started a conversation. In the beginning it was mainly about the routine at the kindergarten. What kind of tasks you would have to complete, such as helping cleaning the dishes after sneak time or always tidying up after yourselves. Gradually the conversation shifted to likes and dislikes. Jokes were made and compliments distributed. Taehyung puling on your pig tails and stating he loved them. Resulting in your offering too give him two with the headbands kept in the room for beauty sessions. This ensued Hobi getting up and wanting the same treatment. Because of his lack of hair length, he got a little sprout at the top of his head. A hairstyle he kept until the end of the day and proudly presented his mother and older sister at home.
The rest of the year was a mixture of happy, adventures and adorable memories. The eight of you did everything together. From Jungkook showing amazing drawing skills and Tae demanding he teach him, to Yoongi sleeping whenever possible and you curling up into his backside. Rubbing your face into his shirt until he would turn around and scratch your head like you wanted him to. Sometimes it was hard to believe that you were a wolf and not a kitten.
When Winter came, Yoongi and Jimin would snuggle up beneath a blanket and watch the rest of you play outside in the snow. A snowball fight would occur, and the air would be filled with giggles. Soon you would be the first to run back inside, as an omega you where naturally colder than the rest, especially the alphas. The two boys would immediately situate you between them. Wrapping you up in their arms, your head positioned on Yoongi’s shoulder as Jimin held your hand in his. Smiling at the remaining boys outside. Giggling, when Jungkook tackled Seokjin to the ground and Namjoon held onto Hobi so he couldn’t help his teammate.  
When the caretakers called everyone inside and distributed hot chocolate, all of you sat next to each other. Listening attentively as Mr. Hofer told you a story about Christmas wonders. Bellies full of the warm beverage and minds at ease, you easily fell asleep in a happy pile, exhausted from the day’s events.
Winter left and spring warmed up your days. Expeditions were started. The entire kindergarten walked hand in hand into the woods every Wednesday. No matter the weather; true wolfs could stand the rain. You would collect sticks for a fire and learn about nature. What mushrooms and berries to eat and which not to. It was a bit early to study those things and it will be on the schedule for Junior High classes again, to ensure you would manifest the knowledge into your brain. But wolfs believed that it was necessary to get to know the forest from a young age. You were part animal, your instincts had to be refined and improved early on. While wolfs naturally knew what thing not to eat, it helps if the brain actually had scientific facts about the danger of certain food.
Tae always exceled at these expeditions. Without fail he remember every fact about plants, berries, etcetera. The caretakers taught it; Tae knew it. It was a bit of a surprise. Normally it was difficult to keep Taehyung’s attention and he would seldom remember what was said during “class”. But as soon as they were surrounded by green it was like a switch clicked in his brain and suddenly, he became a model student.
The year ended earlier than any of you would have liked. Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon transferred to Elementary, while the rest of you were stuck in kindergarten for another year. But you promised each other to have play dates as often as possible and a year later, you and the three boys followed. It became clear during that year, in which you had seen each other almost every day, that your bond was stronger than anybody had thought.
It was a serious of coincidences which brought you together: from Namjoon spilling his apple juice to the paring on introduction day. Nobody had foreseen the relationship that would form from a kindergarten connection. The question was would it be strong enough when the obstacles of life came your way? Would developments coming with age drift you apart?
That were questions the eight kids didn’t ask themselves when they meet up the first day of summer break. They loved and teased each other, like they were meant to.
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angelictaehyun · 4 years
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PAIRING: guardian angel!taehyun x fem!reader
GENRE: guardian angel au, soulmate au, fluff, angst
WC. 3,000+
WARNINGS: minor alcohol usage, mild language, feeling of loneliness
SYNOPSIS: Kang Taehyun, a sassy, young guardian angel, didn’t think anyone could be more of an absolute mess… boy, was he mistaken.
PART ONE || PART TWO || INTERLUDE || PART THREE
.
As you sobbed into your pillow while simultaneously inhaling ice cream, Taehyun was a world away, absentmindedly picking a piece of lint from his left wing. Not long after, he was standing in front of Soobin, an elder, receiving yet another assignment to none other than you, Little Miss Crying Mess, who’d already gone through an entire box of Kleenex in an hour. 
His job was easy (and he’d be lying if he didn’t think himself a pro): silently look after you, keep you from harm, and do his absolute best to make you happy. But you would make that extremely difficult for him. When he glanced through your extensive profile, he didn’t think anyone could be more of an… in nicer terms...
Absolute fucking mess.
Like good God, yes, your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend, now) cheated on you, but that was a month and a half ago, and you weren’t even with him that long. So why could you not shut up and stop crying?
Taehyun wasn’t supposed to think this, guardian angel and all, but what was he supposed to do? You had raccoon eyes from your dried mascara and a pending noise complaint from your neighbor across the hall. 
Funnily, the first time he ever saw you, he felt his jaw drop. Although you were possibly the ugliest crier he’d ever seen (and he’d been alive for a millennium and a half), he saw past that. He awed over your piercing eyes which held so much life in them; your adorably round face that was puffy from all your crying; your silky hair which he wanted to run a hand through. 
He felt his heart yearn for you, like you were a magnet pulling him in. 
In his first week on the job, he felt nothing but pity and sadness for you. The way you seemed so lifeless and drained had him motivated to mend your aching heart. Of course, you didn’t see or feel his presence; he worked tirelessly and quietly, doing small stuff to make you smile. For example, he’d slip a $20 in your pocket every once in a while for you to find when doing laundry (you never found them, and he was out $80 by the end of the week). He also gradually refilled your bare fridge with your favorite food, hoping you’d eat them and feel a semblance of joy, but you never touched it. Instead, each meal was a piece of toast (and occasionally a handful of Goldfish) and an entire bottle of wine. 
He prayed for your liver. 
His second week, he felt even more determined to see your beautiful smile. However, without his help, you had finally decided to take a shower and mosey your way back into society, a decision he was grateful for since you were beginning to resemble a dying gerbil. He accompanied you to your local coffee shop, following closely behind as you weaved between people on the sidewalk, oblivious to you, of course. The day was going well for you; the barista accidentally sized up your order, the jazz band in the park played your favorite song, and you felt the warm sun on your face for the first time in a long while. That is, until you ran into an old friend and found out she recently became engaged. 
He practically saw your flip switch as you plastered on a fake smile and acted as if you were fine. When you finally left, you couldn’t even make it halfway to your apartment before you were breaking down once more. 
His third week was when he decided to take on a more drastic measure. When he re-read your profile to find a list of your core memories, he realized you had a lot of love for snow and snowfall. So he made it snow. 
In the middle of June. 
Nonetheless, he completely ignored the fact that it was a logistical nightmare, thinking it was a perfect idea, sure to bring a smile to your gorgeous face. When you woke up the next morning, feeling extra chilly, Taehyun felt giddy, especially as you moped over to your window and watched the crystalline snow fall from Heaven. He felt proud, especially when he noticed a single tear cascade down your cheek; he believed he overwhelmed you with such happiness, you cried. But when he heard you mumble something like a ‘Yeonjun loved snow,’ and crawl back into bed, he widened his eyes, plopped himself on your desk, and gave up. Not only did he have to deal with a crying you (again), he also had the entire city population wondering why the hell it was snowing in the middle of summer. 
Most of his fourth week was spent on your floor, playing with your dog, devising a new plan to cheer you up, and waiting for you to wake, as you spent most of your day sleeping… though he preferred you asleep since it meant you weren’t crying. Rather than feeling that pity and empathy from his first day on the job, each time you shed a tear, he found himself growing more and more irritated, so when you cried again for the eighth time that week, he had enough. He undid his glamour which kept him hidden and made himself visible to you. He fixed himself a sandwich, sat on your desk, and waited patiently for you to notice his presence. 
Much like any sane person, when you saw a random, unknown boy aggressively eating a sandwich and watching you from less than six feet away, you screamed bloody murder (which was the reason behind the second noise complaint from your neighbor). You scrambled to the opposite side of your bed and balled your hand into a fist while the other reached for a firm, weighty object, as if that was going to protect you from what you believed was about to be certain death. 
“STAY BACK!”
“Y/N, Y/N, it’s okay, it’s okay. Let me explain myself,” he tried reasoning as he slowly approached you as one would approach a flighty deer. You reached for every pillow you could and hurled them his way. As he busied himself dodging them, you sprinted from your bedroom to the front door, but just as you reached for the doorknob, he appeared from literal thin air in front of you, making you scream even louder.
He grabbed your shoulder in an attempt to calm you but that just heightened your fear. You thrashed around in an attempt to escape, ignoring how his grip on you was outrageously strong. 
Almost inhuman. 
When you finally took in his massive, iridescent wings, a small part of your brain put it all together. The other part of your brain, however, was on fire and assumed he was a nutjob hellbent on killing you. 
“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, letting go of your shoulder. 
You made another failed attempt at reaching for your doorknob. This time, he grabbed your hand. 
“I’m not here to kill you.”
Your eyes narrowed and your body relaxed (barely).
“My name is Taehyun and I’m an angel. Your angel, actually.” He spun around, showcasing his golden wings. 
You let out an inappropriate snort, which was quickly replaced by a choke as he began moving closer toward you. Your body stilled and you screwed your eyes shut. 
You felt nothing but the cool tip of his wing brush against your arm as he moved by you. After a long minute of silence, you took a deep breath to calm yourself and hesitantly opened one eye, just to be met with the sight of him comfortably spread across your couch. He mindlessly picked at the fabric of your favorite throw pillow and threw a leg across your coffee table. He seemed all too familiar with your apartment, which was a frightening realization. You watched him with bated breath as he merely glanced over your trembling figure, tilting an eyebrow. He seemed disinterested… almost bored. 
You shuffled behind your kitchen counter, making sure to put plenty of distance between you both, and once you were sure there was enough space, you took him in. He was breathtaking, to say the least. His perfectly pink lips, razor-sharp jaw, defined nose, bright eyes, and high cheekbones, it was like he was sculpted by God himself. You must’ve stared too long because you saw his lips lift into a smirk. You shifted your eyes away and folded your arms across your chest defensively, “Fine, I’ll play along. Why should I believe you’re an angel?” 
He tipped his head to the side and narrowed his eyes, “Are you blind? I literally have wings.”
“Which could be fake for all I know.”
He scoffed in disbelief, “I’ll have you know, these are most certainly real. Excuse me.”
You silently leaned back against the counter with a look of disinterest and pursed lips. He sighed before turning around, allowing you to see his wings begin to glow and suddenly disappear in a flash of bright light. You were left gaping as your mind ran wild, though only a single thought consumed you, “Why do I need a guardian angel? What could I possibly need one for?”
“Well, your life… um, it’s kind of ass,” he replied as if it were obvious. 
Now it was your turn to be offended, “Excuse me? Who the hell are you to tell me that?”
“Your guardian angel?! A-are you deaf? Why else would I be here? You think I’ve enjoyed watching you mope around your apartment for the past month? You shower, like, once a week, and honestly, you look like a soggy rat. All you do is cry and never shut up, I can’t believe you’re even still capable of forming a tear! Actually, aside from when you’re asleep, this is the longest I’ve seen you go without breaking down sobbing!” he scolded as you stood in your kitchen, insulted by his harsh rant. 
“They why stay? Go find someone else to bother, it’s not like I want you here anyway!”
You picked at a hangnail and anxiously nibbled on your bottom lip. You didn’t even know why you were so offended; he was a complete stranger. As if he knew, he shuffled over to you, close enough to reach for your hand, and surprising you both, you didn’t pull away. 
“Look, I’m sorry, but like I said, your life has been hard. When your mother passed away, you had to live on your own as soon as you graduated high school, and now you can barely afford college because all of your money goes to rent. Then your boyfriend does what he did? Not to bring up old scars, but you need all the support you can get. That’s what I’m here for.”
You yanked your hand away and scoffed. ‘Not to bring up old scars,’ he says, bringing up every single scar. 
“I’ve been doing perfectly fine on my own. I don’t need your help and I especially don’t need you lurking around. Please leave.” You pointed at your door before sulking back into your room. 
“You’re getting my help whether you like it or not!”
That was the last thing you heard before you slammed your door. 
· ──────────────────── ·
The following week was unpleasant, to say the least. Each and every morning, you woke to his annoyingly handsome yet smug face as he sat with his feet kicked up on your desk… and this morning was no different. 
“Good morning, Sunshine! You know, you’re quite the deep sleeper, your heinously loud snoring couldn’t even wake you… but it definitely woke the dead,” he cheerfully remarked, plastering on a self-satisfied smirk. You ignored him and pushed your way by his tall frame on your way to your bathroom sink. Much like the week before, he appeared from thin air and perched himself on your counter. Despite your lack of response, he continued, “We should do something fun today, maybe go get some sun? You’re looking a little… lifeless.”
He examined your body from head to toe. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he seemed concerned, but he masked it well with his smugness. 
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you,” you mumbled hoarsely.��
“Then don’t go with me! Call a friend or go out by yourself, I really don’t care. Just please get out,” he whiny begged. He hated seeing you cooped up in your small, dinky apartment. He wished for you to experience life again, and he especially wished to see the light return to your eyes and the bright smile he knew you kept hidden. 
“No.”
Once you finished brushing your teeth, you climbed back into your warm bed and scrolled on your old phone. He clenched his jaw at your stubbornness, trying his best to stay calm. It was only 9:32 AM and you had already managed to piss him off. He knew you were headstrong, he didn’t need to read a profile on you to know that; just one day around you and he already picked up on your obstinance. He jumped off the countertop and climbed onto your bed to hover over your body. His breath fanned your nose as he trapped your body between him, wings draping over you both like a blanket. You were shocked and once again, left breathless just by being in his proximity, and you could feel your pulse rapidly increasing as he glanced down to your lips. 
He leaned closer and closer, and you nearly closed your eyes, until he snatched your phone from your hand. 
“You’re not getting this back until you go outside and do something. Anything. For the love of God,” he pleaded, pulling back quickly. The sudden lack of warmth snapped you out of your haze.
“Oh my God! Gimme!” you helplessly whined.
“Are you five? You know what you have to do to get your phone back.” He slapped your hand away as you tried to steal it back. 
You refrained from punching him, instead narrowing your eyes as he did the same. You both had an unspoken contest until you broke first. His harsh gaze pierced you; he was too intimidating. 
“Fine,” you snapped, making your way from bed to get ready for the day. 
· ──────────────────── ·
There was a small, quiet beach near your childhood home you loved visiting every once in a while. The tranquility of the ocean lapping at the shore always provided you with a feeling of peace. 
Until now.
You had chosen to go out by yourself, much like Taehyun had suggested, but your plan quickly faltered when he reminded you that he would be with you regardless, either glamoured or visible. Seeing as you didn’t necessarily like the idea of him invisibly lurking around, you opted to have him visibly by your side. You’d rather see his judgment rather than feel it from afar. 
So there you were, watching him smother an obnoxious amount of your expensive sunscreen onto his face as if he were a human and not a supernatural being that’s completely unaffected by UV. It’d been a week since he came into your life, or at least made his presence known, and he was already a pain in your ass. 
“I have to maintain my cover somehow.”
“What?” You didn’t know what cover he was trying to maintain, his pesky wings were hidden, and overlooking his outright godly features, he looked perfectly human. 
He did a poor job of rubbing the sunscreen into his skin and for the first time since meeting him, you felt a smile creep on your face. He looked like an idiot. You almost let him be since you were so amused, but you helped him out anyway. Standing on the balls of your feet and cupping his face, you began smoothing the sunscreen on. He held your waist, holding you steady, and you felt nervous from the proximity but you did your best to conceal it. He silently studied you, thinking you looked incredibly adorable as you focused on your small task, your eyes narrowing in concentration and your teeth biting into your soft lips. 
He couldn’t help the way his mouth tugged into a small smile. 
“All done! Now you don’t look like a ghost,” you mused. 
“Thank you,” he snorted, releasing his firm grip. Instinctually, he kept himself hovered around you, though, never really creating a noticeable distance. 
You were thankful he pushed you to leave your apartment, but you knew you could never tell him that. You just knew he was the type to constantly bombard you with ‘I told you so’, and you’d never hear the end of it. 
The rest of the day, he watched as you laid on your blanket and basked in the sunlight, eventually getting up to walk the shoreline. You kept yourself occupied as you searched the sand for pretty shells and dainty rocks, and Taehyun forced himself to keep his distance, not wanting to disturb your peace. This was the calmest he had seen you since he was first assigned and he felt so grateful; he didn’t show it but he couldn’t bear seeing you in pain. Yes, your crying was growing extremely irritating, and yes, the pile of used Kleenex beside your bed was beginning to disgust him, nonetheless, he wanted to see you happy. 
When you stopped to blankly stare at the vast ocean, he could’ve sworn he could feel your pain, the way your heart ached, the way your mind was heavy with despair. The pain he felt wasn’t one of heartbreak though, rather… loneliness. 
In fact, all of your pain stemmed from feeling completely alone. 
He quickly made his way over to your side and grabbed your much smaller hand in his—he wanted you to know you weren’t alone anymore. You didn’t turn to him, rather you kept your eyes trained on the sun beginning to set on the horizon. You leaned your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes, relishing in his warmth and the crisp tide washing over your feet. 
For reasons he still had yet to decipher, he yearned to always be by you, protecting you, making no harm ever came your way again. He tried shaking off the feeling as doing his job properly, but something in the back of his mind told him this was different. 
Something about you was different. 
And he could quite literally feel it in his heart.                                                  
Chapter Two >>                                                                         
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mdelpin · 3 years
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Male Order Bride - Chapter 3
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Chapter 3
“Did you have to bring everything you own?” Lyon groaned after loading another one of Lucy’s suitcases onto the carriage that Gray had hired to take them from the inn where Lucy had been staying to their new home.
“These are just my winter clothes,” Lucy said, “but I’ll be sure to let you know when I send for the summer ones.”
“Don’t feel like you have to.”
“You should be used to it by now, with the way Erza packs,” Gray said, laughing away Lyon’s complaints.
“That’s different, we’re engaged!”
Natsu tuned them out from inside the carriage. He rested his head on the seat, eyes sliding shut as the exhaustion from days of not sleeping very much, and eating even less caught up to him.
He awoke to the feeling of his stomach staging a full revolt. Groaning in misery, he covered his mouth and willed himself not to throw up.
“Is she okay?”
“She gets motion sickness,” Lucy explained, “Been like that ever since I can remember. She’ll be fine once the carriage stops.”
Natsu tried to say something to reassure Gray, who had sounded concerned, but all that came out was a worrying gurgle.
A hand brushed his, so lightly Natsu wondered if he’d imagined it, but Gray’s assurance followed it. “It should only be a few more minutes.”
“You could try icing her neck,” Lyon suggested, “That works for Erza when she’s feeling queasy.”
“Queasy? You don’t mean to say-?”
“Get your mind out of the gutter!” Lyon spluttered, causing both Gray and Lucy to dissolve into giggles. “I meant when she gets sick after eating too much cake.”
After months of self-imposed isolation, the sound of their laughter cheered Natsu immensely. Even if he wasn’t clear on what it was they were laughing about.
A moment later, he felt Gray’s hand touch his again, this time squeezing it to get his attention. “May I ice your neck?”
Natsu figured it was worth a try, so he grunted his assent, worried about what might happen if he tried to talk. Gray moved the hair away from the nape of his neck, replacing it with his hand.
“Ice-make: compress.”
The resulting mist was soothing against Natsu’s neck, the ice creating a welcome distraction from his misery. It didn’t cure his nausea, but it made it feel much more bearable.
“Thank you.”
It was all the words he could manage at that moment, but he hoped Gray understood he meant it not just for the ice, but for all the times he’d already come to his rescue.
“We’re here.”
There was a tinge of excitement to Gray’s voice, but Natsu didn’t dare open his eyes, preferring to wait for the moment the carriage finally stopped.
0-0
Lucy exited the carriage along with Lyon and Gray. She stared at the two opposing staircases with a frown. From her visit the previous week, Lucy knew each staircase comprised seven steps leading to a small platform, from which a shorter set of stairs ushered visitors to the manor’s front door. It was nothing strenuous, but given Natsu’s current condition, it might as well be a mile’s walk.
“How long is she going to be like this?” Gray asked, peering into the carriage where Natsu had remained, hunched over his stomach as his body continued to struggle against his motion sickness.
“It usually takes a bit for her stomach to settle. She’ll be fine,” Lucy said, pulling Natsu out of the carriage and trying to force him to stand on his own, which was no easy feat given the high heels that were part of the outfit her spirit Virgo had brought from the Celestial World.
Gray attempted to carry him in his arms, but Natsu protested, just as Lucy knew he would. So they compromised, with Gray offering Natsu his arm to hold on to for support. It was slow going, and Lyon gave up on waiting for them, using the other stairs to make his way inside.
“I remember him being more charming,” Lucy muttered, and narrowing her eyes at Gray she added, “and you being decidedly less so.”
Gray only shrugged, focusing his attention on helping Natsu tackle the stairs, “You know, this would go much faster if you’d just let me carry you the rest of the way.”
“You don’t have to help me at all,” Natsu replied, his lips pressed together stubbornly, “I can do it myself, you know.”
Gray snickered as Natsu lost his balance on the icy steps, “Of course you can, dear.” He switched his attention back to Lucy. “I asked the staff to prepare my apartment for the two of you. I’m not sure how long it will take to get it ready. It’s been a while since anyone’s lived there.”
Lucy frowned. Gray had called Natsu love at the auction house, and now he was calling him dear? He’d also been rather attentive in the carriage, his behavior a sharp contrast to the aloofness she’d experienced during their meeting. She had a bad feeling about where this was all going, especially with Natsu so focused on whatever was happening with his magic that he didn’t seem to care about anything else. What was he even doing in Isvan, and where was Igneel?
She chose her next words with care. “Are you planning on living there as well?”
Gray shook his head.
Lucy was about to move on to her next question when Gray cut her off.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and I promise I’ll answer all of them once we have some privacy.”
They were already at his house, it’s not like she had any choice but to accept his promise. She rubbed her arms, trying to coax some warmth back into them. “Ugh, is it always this cold in Isvan?”
“No,” Gray laughed, “Sometimes it's colder.”
“Lovely.”
They finally reached the platform, but rather than continuing on to the next short set of steps, Natsu clung to the banister with one hand and Gray with the other, his breath coming in shallow pants. Gray stood next to him, looking bored but voicing no complaint. Lucy wanted to scream in frustration, and though she had half a mind to wait for them inside, she was wary of leaving the two alone together until she knew more.
“Natsu, can you please just let Gray help you? I’m freezing!”
“It’s only a few more steps,” Natsu pointed out, but Lucy didn’t feel like waiting any longer. She grabbed on to his other arm and pulled, ignoring his protests, until together she and Gray had lifted him over the remaining steps and into the house.
Lyon met them at the door carrying fire warmed blankets he draped over their shoulders. It felt heavenly, and Lucy took back every mean thing she’d ever said about him.
Gray disappeared for a moment, returning with a pair of fur lined leather slippers for Natsu. “Here you go, these should make it easier for you to move around.”
Natsu took off his shoes and replaced them with the slippers, “That is so much better.”
On her last visit, Lucy had been too nervous about her impending meeting with Gray to pay much attention to her surroundings. The only reason she remembered the number of steps was because she had counted each one off in her head to steady her nerves. This time around, she gaped at the large foyer, admiring the two elegant wooden staircases that curved gracefully to the second floor before following Lyon and Gray up the left staircase.
A large sitting room awaited them at the top of the stairs, furnished with plenty of chairs and couches, all facing three full-length picture windows. It was almost dark, but Lucy could still make out the outline of the mountains and at their bottom a darker area she thought might be a lake. She couldn’t wait to see it in daylight.
“Do you like it?” Lyon stood next to her, and when she nodded, he smiled. “Gray’s grandfather designed it for his wife. It’s one of my favorite parts of the house. Sometimes you can even see the aurora borealis from up here.”
The thought excited Lucy. She’d heard several people talk of the phenomenon, but she still hadn’t glimpsed it.
Gray walked over to the door on the left, “This is where you’ll stay. That other door is the entrance to my father’s apartment, where Lyon and I live.”
That same door opened, revealing two women exiting the apartment. They walked over to them with welcoming smiles. The older one reminded Lucy of Gray, with pale skin and short black hair that framed her face. She assumed that was his mother. Her companion was a beautiful girl with long red hair that came down to her waist. She wore a hird uniform and peered at them with interest.
“Oh boys, since you’re both here,” the woman said, “I’d like a word with you.”
“I should get them settled in-”
“Nonsense, I’m sure Erza wouldn’t mind doing that for you,” the older woman waved away Gray’s protests.
“Not at all. Hi, I’m Erza,” the red-haired girl introduced herself with a friendly wave, and the way Lyon moved to her side reminded Lucy of Gray’s teasing in the carriage. This must be the fiancée who loved cake.
“Hi, I’m Lucy and this is Natsu.”
“Nice to meet you and welcome to Fullbuster Manor. I’m Ur, Gray and Lyon’s Master.”
“Master?”
“Yes, I’m their magic teacher,” Ur explained to Natsu, “I can feel a lot of magic in you, both of you actually. What types of magic do you practice?”
“I have fire dragon slaying magic.”
“And I’m a celestial mage.”
“How exciting! Both are pretty rare.” Ur said, her mouth curving into an inviting smile. “Perhaps you’d like to join us for training while you’re here? It’s a bit too dark right now, but you can normally see our training hall from here.”
“I’m all fired up!”
“I’ll think about it, but I guarantee you won’t be able to keep Natsu away,” Lucy couldn’t help but giggle at how ridiculous Natsu sounded, saying his favorite phrase while using the feminine voice her celestial spirit Lyra had enchanted him with.
“Great! Well, I’ll leave you in Erza’s capable hands. You should have just enough time to get settled before dinner. I’m looking forward to hearing all about you then.” Ur waved, and Lyon and Gray followed her back to their apartment.
“She’s nice,” Natsu commented, earning an approving glance from Erza.
“I hope you don’t think me rude for asking, but what is your relation to Gray?”
“Oh, not at all,” Lucy tittered, scrambling to decide what to say that wouldn’t mess Gray up later. “He hired me at the employment auction this afternoon.”
Lucy figured she might as well say as much of the truth as she could, “As for Natsu, I’m afraid Gray wants to announce that himself.”
She changed the subject, “What about you? Did I hear you’re engaged to Lyon?”
“Y-yes,” Erza stammered, her face crimsoning as she showed Lucy and Natsu her ring.
“That’s a beautiful ring!” Lucy gushed, holding Erza’s hand up to the oil lamp’s soft light.
Erza seemed flustered by the attention, but also pleased. She opened the door of the apartment and led them inside.
0-0
“He got away from you?” Ur frowned at Lyon. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“He used the crowd at the auction to his advantage,” Lyon shrugged, fiddling with the beads in his braid. “I’ll get him next time.”
“For your sake, I hope there isn’t a next time. Silver is already furious it’s gone on this long. Were you at least able to get a good look at him?”
Lyon scratched his head, pretending to think it over. “Not really, I mostly saw his backside. He had short spiky pink hair, and his clothing was strange. Definitely not from around here. Maybe Erza saw more?”
“No, she said about the same, I was hoping you’d have more information.”
“Sorry, not this time.”
“Well, go talk to Silver anyway, he insisted on a report. Invel complained about the hirdmen presence at the Auction, so I’m sure he’ll have more questions.”
Ur turned to Gray, “He’ll want to speak to you as well. Invel apprised him of your presence.”
Fucking Invel!
Gray met Lyon’s gaze, unsurprised to see a triumphant smirk that screamed I told you so. It made him glad to have heeded the advice. The smirk, however, was short-lived. A more nervous look replaced it, as Lyon went off in search of Silver, filling Gray with guilt.
Lyon might attempt to act aloof, but Gray knew how much he hated to lie, especially to Ur. Now, Lyon would have to lie to Silver too, and he wasn’t likely to be as forgiving. Gray promised himself he’d make it up to him at some point.
He turned his attention back to Ur, who was gazing at him expectantly.
“It’s something Farfar1 felt strongly about,” Gray said. And it was true, even if he’d never known about it until that day. “I was just taking an interest.”
“And it’s a good thing I did,” he continued, not giving Ur a chance to ask questions he might not be ready to answer, “or I wouldn’t have met Natsu.”
“The fire dragon slayer?” Ur’s lips pressed into a slight frown as she listened.
“Yeah, her. We met at the Auction, and it was just, I don’t know. Love at first sight, I guess?”
“Oh, Gray, honey,” Ur grabbed his hand and peered into his eyes, “You can’t expect me to believe that. Not after you’ve refused to even consider any of the other girls. I know about the ultimatum your father gave you, and I promise, I’ll work on him until he changes his mind about Juvia.”
It was tempting to let Ur fight his father on his behalf, but he knew it wasn’t fair to put additional stress on her and Silver’s relationship. Plus, he was an adult, or close enough to count. The time for hiding behind his mother’s skirts was long past.
Still, Ur was the one person Silver might listen to. Gray had hoped she’d be so excited about him meeting someone he was genuinely interested in that she wouldn’t question his story. But it hadn’t worked out that way. He’d have to find another way to get her support or give up on his plan altogether.
From a young age, Silver had taught Gray that lies were something he should avoid as much as possible. But he’d also said that sometimes they were a necessary evil. An effective leader, Silver had lectured, resorted to lies only after he had exhausted all other avenues, and he was wise enough to include enough fact to lend the lie an air of truth.
Gray thought about Natsu, trying to settle on a truth that might convince Ur of the lie. He soon realized it wasn’t as hard as he’d thought. All he needed to do was remember Natsu’s smile and how it had made him feel, or even the anxiety that had come over him at his motion sickness in the carriage. If he could get that through to her, there was no way she wouldn’t be on his side.
“I know how it sounds, but when she smiled at me for the first time. I- I felt something in my heart,” Gray moved their joined hands up to his heart. “Nothing like this has ever happened to me before, Ur. I don’t know how else to explain it but love at first sight.”
Ur let go of his hand, her expression softening. “Sweetheart-”
“Let me have this,” Gray pleaded, “All I’m asking for is the chance to get to know her better and see if maybe she’d want to be mine.”
“You’re right, you do deserve that chance,” Ur said, offering him a tired smile, “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Thank you, Ur.”
She pressed her hands to his cheeks, patting them gently. “How could I say no to my adorable student?”
“You should get ready for dinner, I’ll go tell Ooba to set two additional plates.” She walked toward the door, turning to him with an impish grin. “She’s beautiful.”
Gray looked away even though she didn’t wait for his reaction, surprised by the unexpected flush that crept up his cheeks at her parting words.
Yeah, he really was.
He hurried to his room to change his clothes, determined to speak to Natsu before they faced his father at dinner.
0-0
“I thought she’d never leave,” Lucy complained after closing the door behind Erza, who had promised to come get them for dinner.
“I like her.”
“I like her too,” Lucy admitted, “She just didn’t leave us much time to figure out what’s going on.”
Natsu sat in one of the room’s rocking chairs, swinging back and forth wildly.
“Stop that,” Lucy scolded, “that chair is worth more than everything you own.”
“That wouldn’t be too hard, seeing as I don’t have anything.”
Lucy studied him with concern, but shook her head, “Nevermind, we’ll discuss that later. Where did you put your envelope? We need to figure out what we’ve gotten ourselves into.”
Natsu knew nothing good would come from Lucy finding out he’d received more offers than her, so he changed the subject.
“How do you know Gray, anyway?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Lucy raged, eyes shooting sparks at the memory of whatever had happened between them. “My father sent me here hoping Gray would choose me as his fiancée. The jerk turned me down, said I was too perky for his taste. Can you believe that? I mean, it’s not like I wanted to marry him either, but - What’s wrong with being perky?”
Natsu could absolutely believe that, despite loving Lucy like a sister. She’d been the only person besides Igneel and now, Gray, to take an active interest in him. He’d risk his life for her in a second, but he also knew that many people found her personality overbearing. The little he’d seen of Lyon and Gray made him think they’d fall into that category.
“I’m sure he’ll tell us more when he gets a chance,” Natsu stood up, stretching his arms above his head and examining the room they were in. It was the first time he’d set foot inside a residence since he’d arrived in Isvan, having spent most of his time hiding in abandoned buildings, trying to figure out how to search for Igneel in a strange country. At least he was lucky the language was mostly the same.
“Shouldn’t you be more concerned?”
Natsu turned his attention back to Lucy. “About what? I already said I’d do whatever it was.”
“You can’t just make promises like that, Natsu. People will take advantage of you.”
“You worry too much,” he said, waving away her concern, “I just wish I didn’t have to keep wearing these clothes, I feel stupid. Not to mention I don’t know the first thing about acting like a girl.”
“Well, you look fabulous!”
Natsu sincerely doubted it, but he appreciated the sentiment.
“Why were those hirdmen after you, anyway?” Lucy’s forehead furrowed with worry.
“I think that’s a longer story than what we have time for right now. Don’t you have to get ready for dinner?”
“It’s not just me, Natsu. Didn’t you hear Gray’s mother? You’re invited too.”
“That’s not his mother.”
“What are you talking about? She looks just like him.”
“Maybe, but they smell nothing alike,” Natsu said absently, his mind full of this fresh problem. Why would they want him to join the family for dinner? When he’d lived with the Heartfilias, he’d always taken his meals with the staff.
“Well, but isn’t your freaky magic on the fritz?”
“My senses have nothing to do with my fire,” he explained, “Are you sure about dinner? I never had to do that at your house.”
“You really have no clue what’s happening, do you?” Lucy looked heavenward in one of her over dramatic gestures that drove him nuts.
“I’m the one who’s with the staff, you are part of the family.”
“Part of the family? What are you talking about? We were both hired by Gray, weren't we?” Natsu paled. Suddenly there was the looming threat of forks to remember and napkins to use, all while wearing this ridiculous getup. Igneel had tried his best to instill manners in him, but Natsu had just never been that interested.
“Oh ho! Not feeling so relaxed now, huh?” Lucy watched him panic, her mouth twitching in amusement.
“What am I going to do? It’s going to be a disaster! You gotta help me!”
“Well first, I guess we should figure out what you’re going to wear,” Lucy headed into the room she had claimed as her bedroom, her suitcases already lined up against the wall.
“Can’t you just summon your spirits again?” He called out. If he felt uncomfortable wearing this dress, he shuddered to think of how he would feel wearing one of Lucy’s skimpy outfits. Not to mention she was several inches shorter than him.
“That’s not how celestial contracts work, I’ve already called on them today.”
“Your magic is weird.”
“And yours is out of whack,” she walked out of the bedroom, holding up a small piece of fabric that only she would consider clothing. “What’s up with that?”
“I dunno. I got sick right before I was supposed to leave with Igneel. Spetto took care of me, but my magic has been screwy ever since.”
“That’s strange,” Lucy muttered, “If we were still at home we could have searched my mother’s library. I doubt there will be much here that will be of help. Maybe Grandpa Crux might know something. I could try summoning him later.”
“Who?”
“Don’t worry about it. For now, let’s get you into this dress.”
Natsu held up the dress that Lucy handed him against his body. The skirt would barely reach down to the middle of his thighs.
A knock on the door saved him from having to put it on. Lucy walked to the door and opened it. To his surprise, Erza stood on the other side holding several items in her arms.
“Erza, you’re back so soon,” Lucy gestured to her to come inside, closing the door behind her.
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Erza looked stunning. She had changed out of her hird uniform and into a cream colored long-sleeved gown that reached down to her ankles. Over it she wore a woolen apron dress in a deep shade of blue that was open at the front. It was several inches shorter than her gown, in the fashion worn by well-to-do maidens in Isvan. Two gold brooches attached the straps of the apron dress to the gown, with strands of colorful beads strung between them. A third brooch held the fabric in place, creating the illusion of a neckline. A light blue patterned belt added a splash of color around her slim waist. Her long red hair was tied in a ponytail knot held in place by an ornate hair stick.
She offered Natsu the items she was carrying. It appeared to be several outfits similar to the one she was wearing. “I remembered you saying you had no belongings with you, so I brought you some of my clothes to wear until you can get some new ones.”
“Thank you so much,” Natsu cheered, giving Erza a quick hug.
“It’s nothing, Lucy is shorter than you, so I figured her clothes wouldn’t fit you very well,” Erza said, seeming bewildered by his enthusiasm. “If you put on one of the gowns, I can help you secure the hangerok2.”
“Okay!” Natsu entered the bedroom he’d chosen for himself and closed the door. He heard another knock on their door just as he’d wrestled out of the dress he’d been wearing. Soon there was another voice in the room, male this time. He pressed his ear to the door to listen.
A voice that sounded like Gray’s greeted Lucy and Erza.
“Is Natsu ready? I came to escort her to dinner.”
“She’s still getting dressed,” Lucy informed him, “She should be out any minute.”
“Already? Isn’t it still early?”
“I, uh, wanted to speak to her before she met Fader.”
Gray wanted to talk to him? Natsu supposed that made sense. He still hadn’t told him what it was he wanted from him. Natsu hoped Lucy had just been reading into the situation like she sometimes did, because if not, passing himself off as a girl would be child’s play compared to what awaited him. What would he do then?
“What are you doing here? I thought you’d be with Lyon.”
“Lyon was... busy, so I figured I’d bring Natsu some clothes she could borrow.”
“Busy?” There was a momentary pause, followed by a muffled, “Oh.”
“Is something wrong?” Natsu heard the concern in Lucy’s voice and wondered what Erza and Gray’s expressions looked like to merit it.
“Nothing for you to worry about. Lyon and I were chasing a suspect today, and we lost him,” Erza explained, “The Chief isn’t happy with us.”
Natsu listened with interest, recognizing they were talking about him. Had Erza been one of the hirdmen chasing after him? He’d only seen Lyon before he took off, and it had taken all of his energy to stay ahead of him.
“I’m sorry,” Gray replied, and there was something in his voice that confused Natsu.
What did Gray have to do with any of that? Natsu had a vague recollection of having seen another guy before running into the building. Could that have been Gray? Well, even if it had been, he’d obviously not recognized him in his disguise, which meant nothing had changed.
Natsu continued to listen to them talk about how the Chief had yelled at Lyon and how Erza felt guilty because she hadn’t received the same treatment. As soon as they moved on to a different topic, he tuned them out, examining the dresses Erza had brought him with distaste and a little trepidation. Unlike his regular clothes, these weren’t fireproof.
All he could do was hope for the best and remind himself it wouldn't be forever. He selected a white gown and put it on with a dispirited sigh, covering it with a heavier crimson apron dress and opening the door to join the others.
They all looked up at his entrance, with Erza unfastening brooches she had attached to the inside of her hangerok. She approached him and fussed over him while he tried his best to stand still as she pushed the pins through both layers of fabric.
“There you go,” Erza made some adjustments before straightening up and evaluating her efforts. “That color looks lovely on you. You should keep it.”
“Oh, no, that’s not necessary,” Natsu was quick to protest, even though he appreciated her gesture.
“Nonsense, we’re friends now, aren’t we? Besides, it looks better on you than on me.”
Natsu guessed she wouldn’t feel the same way if she knew who he really was. This was a dangerous game he was playing, and he could only trust that he’d be able to find Igneel before this farce blew up in his face.
“Something’s missing, though,” Erza studied him with a thoughtful expression before removing some of her beads and attaching them to the brooches on Natsu’s dress with a satisfied smile. “Perfect! Don’t you think so, Gray?”
Gray muttered a response that even Natsu’s enhanced senses couldn’t make heads or tails out of, turning a moment later to bow to Erza. “Thank you for thinking of Natsu, I appreciate it.”
Erza nodded, her expression turning thoughtful as she peered at Gray, her eyes lingering on his hair. On his braid, to be exact.
Had Gray had that before? Natsu couldn’t recall.
“You should get going,” she said, clapping Gray on the shoulder so hard he barely missed slamming into him. “I’m sure you two have lots to talk about. Lucy and I can wait for Lyon together.”
Erza sounded almost giddy, but Natsu had no clue what had set her off. He peered at Lucy to make sure she didn’t have any objections before agreeing.
Gray finally glanced at Natsu, although he looked away the moment their eyes met. “I’ll have Ur talk to our seamstress about making you some suitable clothes.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” Lucy said, coming to his rescue, “I brought plenty of clothes, she can just wear some of mine.”
“I feel we might need to get some made for you as well. You’re going to freeze to death wearing dresses like that around here,” Gray laughed, and Natsu and Erza joined in.
“Shall we?” Gray gestured to the door, his eyes still crinkling at the corners. “There’s something I’d like to show you.”
Natsu nodded, following him out but feeling a little awkward now that he knew they’d be alone together.
0-0
Gray had been looking forward to this moment for hours, but now that it was here, he didn’t know what to do. How should he treat Natsu? Did he already know what Gray was going to ask of him? How did people do this so easily?
He offered Natsu his arm when they reached the top of the stairs, only to have him descend the stairs on his own, yanking his skirts up above his slippers and claiming he didn’t need his help. Gray could only smile at the defiant glare he’d glimpsed in his eyes. He liked Natsu’s independent spirit, especially given he was in a strange place and in the middle of what had to be a nerve-wracking situation.
He followed Natsu down the stairs, not sure what to do with his hands, which were becoming sweaty in anticipation of being alone with his crush. It made him wish he’d paid more attention to Lyon when he was first trying to gain Erza’s favor.
Gray had never given much thought to his looks before, but given the reactions of girls like Juvia, he figured he wasn’t hard to look at. That was to girls, though. How did he make himself attractive to another man?
He’d done his best, changing into his finest set of clothes and taming his hair with a comb. After some consideration, he’d worked in the traditional engagement braid that announced his courtship status, embellishing it with beads to make it stand out more against his dark hair. Hoping to make a good impression on Natsu and to send a message to his father that he was taking this courtship seriously. But maybe he’d just made himself look like he was trying too hard. Natsu certainly hadn’t given him a second look.
Gray led him out the front door, walking toward the ice sculptures that decorated their front yard, figuring it was far enough from the house to give them some privacy. Plus, it couldn’t hurt to show himself in a positive light. Maybe he could even impress Natsu with his molding.
It was only when Natsu shivered next to him that Gray realized he hadn’t had him grab a cloak.
“I’m doing a terrible job as your host. First, I forgot about your clothes, and now I didn’t think to make sure you had a cloak before I brought you outside. I’m so sorry, please take mine.”
Gray removed his woolen cloak, draping it over Natsu’s shoulders and pinning it with his brooch to keep it in place. “There you go, that should keep you warm.”
“Thank you,” Natsu bowed his head, “Won’t you be cold, though?”
“Nah,” Gray waved away his concern. “I’m an ice mage, it needs to get much colder than this for it to bother me.”
Natsu appeared skeptical, but his expression softened when Gray showed no signs of discomfort. “You know, it’s strange. I shouldn’t even be able to feel the cold.”
“At all?” That surprised him. Gray was a powerful ice mage, but even he felt cold sometimes.
“Yeah, my magic causes my body temperature to run hotter than other people’s. It usually heats the air around me to a comfortable temperature.”
“I didn’t know that, you’re the first fire mage I’ve ever met.”
“I can’t imagine too many of them would want to travel here,” Natsu said, plastering a smile on his face, but not soon enough for Gray to miss the tinge of sadness it replaced. “Even though it is quite beautiful in its own way.”
Natsu’s sudden change of mood puzzled Gray. He knew there was something to it, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t get an answer if he asked, so he changed the subject.
“I wanted to show you this,” Gray drew Natsu’s attention to the grouping of sculptures that he and his family had made during the Winter Solstice.
Natsu gasped, allowing Gray to take his arm and help him maneuver through the deeper snowdrifts until they stood in front of the first sculpture, a snow tiger Lyon had made. Next to it was a large trellis covered in roses which Ur had made. An enormous wolf, Silver’s contribution, towered over the others.
“How did I not see this when we arrived?” Natsu wondered aloud.
“In the sorry state you were in?” Gray teased, “That wolf could have come to life and attacked the carriage and you wouldn't have noticed.”
“Did you make all of these?” Natsu moved from one statue to the next, his hand extending out but stopping shy of actually touching. “They all look so real.”
“I made that one,” Gray pointed to his creation, a sculpture of the thunder god Thor holding his hammer, Mjolnir, in mid-swing. “This is my magic. I can make just about anything out of ice, so long as I can visualize it in my mind. Most of the time I make weapons I can use to fight, but I enjoy doing stuff like this too. It helps to hone my control.”
It pleased him to see Natsu admiring his sculpture, even walking around to examine the back of it. “Your magic is beautiful,” he complimented with a smile which stretched into a grin as he added, “but I bet you I could melt it without too much trouble.”
Gods, that grin. Gray was learning he was weak to it. And Natsu’s words felt like an invitation to a game, one he was desperate to play despite not understanding any of the rules.
“Is that so?” Gray raised an eyebrow at the taunt, “Those are some mighty big words coming from someone who could barely hold on to her magic at the Auction.”
He could have kicked himself when Natsu’s smile wilted in front of his eyes. He’d made his first move and failed miserably.
“I didn’t mean- uhm, I just wanted to-,” Gray struggled to explain that he’d only been trying to flirt, but he was a clueless pathetic mess. He was glad Lyon hadn’t seen that, he would’ve never lived it down.
“I don’t need your apology. Not when it’s the truth.”
Natsu turned away from the sculptures, avoiding Gray’s eyes as he asked, “So are you ever going to tell me what it is you want from me in exchange for helping me get my magic under control?”
Could there possibly be a worse time to ask him that? Still, Gray had put himself in this mess, he’d just have to crawl his way back out.
“I- uhm, I’m not sure how to start. I suppose short is best, since they’ll be expecting us for dinner soon.”
Natsu slipped him a curious glance, “I don’t understand what you’re acting so nervous about, I already said I’d do whatever it was.”
Gray was fairly certain that would change as soon as he heard what it was.
“Okay then, I’d like you to pretend to be my fiancée.”
“Except for that.”
“I know how this sounds, but at least hear me out?”
“Gray, it wouldn’t be right for me to-”
“Please hear me out?”
“This is insane,” Natsu frowned, but gestured for him to continue.
“Thank you,” Gray wrapped his arms around himself, feeling a tad shaky now that the time had come to explain what he wanted. “My father is the Chief of Isvan, and someday I will take his place. Because of that, there’s this stupid law that says I have to get married on my next birthday, which is in October. I tried to get out of it by running out the clock, rejecting every girl my father brought to my attention.”
“Is that what happened with Lucy?”
“Yeah, I thought my plan was working, but it backfired. When I rejected the last girl this morning, my father told me if I didn’t find someone I could accept as a wife then I’d have to marry her, and she’s the worst one of the lot. I can’t spend the rest of my life with her, Natsu. To me, that would be a fate worse than death.”
“Now you’re just being dramatic,” Natsu’s mouth twitched into a smile at his declaration. “She can’t possibly be that bad.”
“No, I’m not,” Gray objected, “I can promise you I wouldn’t be going to all this trouble if that were the case.”
“You’re still better off asking Lucy for help,” Natsu argued, “I’m sure she’d agree. She knows all about this stuff, whereas I don’t even know which fork to use or-”
Gray cut off Natsu’s protest, “You don’t understand, it has to be you. My father already approved of Lucy. If I chose her as my fiancée, I’d have to marry her. But he doesn’t know you. If you agreed to marry me, he’d have to find your family, and enter negotiations with them.”
“Hold up. Let me get this straight,” Natsu peered into his eyes, “You’re saying if I agree to do this your father would have to find my family?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry about that,” Gray assured him, not wanting it to be a sticking point, “We can think of ways to keep him from doing that. Maybe I could hire some actors or-”
“Are you crazy?” Natsu cut him off, his excitement such that he was almost bouncing on his feet, “I want him to.”
Natsu’s reaction left Gray dumbfounded. “I don’t understand. Are you saying you want to marry me?”
“No, you idiot!” Natsu grinned, punching Gray none too gently on the shoulder. “I came to Isvan looking for my father. He came here a few months ago, and I haven’t heard from him since. If you can help me find him, I’ll pretend to be anything you want.”
Gray bristled at being called an idiot, and the playful punch had shocked him, although he had to admit it was also a little refreshing. For most of his life, everyone had tiptoed around him. Natsu was apparently not planning on doing any such thing, and it exhilarated Gray.
He was eager to get to know the real man hiding behind the dress, the one he’d glimpsed outrunning Lyon with ease and who was bold or insane enough to pull off this disguise in plain view of his pursuers.
“It’s a deal then,” Gray said, “We’ll start working on your magic tomorrow morning.”
He was pleased that Natsu had agreed, although he was a little worried about what would happen once they found his father. But that was a worry for another day. They had to get through dinner first.
His excitement ebbed as he thought of what awaited them. “I have to warn you, my father won’t approve at first. It might get unpleasant. I’m sorry for that.”
Natsu shrugged, his hands moving up to his waist. “It’s okay. I’m more worried about my magic flaring up than anything he could say to me.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
He felt the urge to give Natsu a hug, but instinctively knew it was a bad idea. It would only end up being awkward. So he crossed his arms over his chest to keep himself from doing anything stupid, offering him an earnest smile instead.
Natsu returned his smile, and suddenly they were staring into each other’s eyes with neither of them looking away. Natsu’s smile grew even wider and Gray could feel the blood rushing to his ears, which were thankfully hidden by his hair.
“We- uhm, we need to come up with a story so that we don't mess each other up when we get in there,” Gray said, trying his best to hide how flustered he felt by the moment they’d just shared. “Something simple that’s mostly true is probably best.”
They discussed a few ideas until finding one they both agreed on.
“We should go inside.”
“Yeah.”
They walked back to the house’s entrance, Gray’s stomach tying itself up in ever more complicated knots at the thought of facing his father.
Natsu stopped just shy of the front door, pumping his fists in the air and crying out, “We’re gonna do great!”
Gray was so enraptured by the display he let himself believe it. He grabbed Natsu’s hand in his and led him inside towards the dining room.
Notes
Farfar is the name for a paternal grandfather  
The hangerok (sometimes spelled hangerock or hangeroc) was a type of dress worn by Viking women and some other early medieval northern European cultures. The garment was shaped somewhat like a pinafore, with two straps over the shoulders secured by brooches. 
A/N: I'm happy to finally bring you this chapter. It will be the last one for a bit as I will be working on the next chapter of The Red Dragon and those tend to take a while, along with some collabs that have been waiting for a bit. 
@ft-ez-bb​
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piracytheorist · 3 years
Text
A Kiss for Good Luck (4/14)
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Summary: So this is the story of one born lucky, and one born unlucky. Fate will keep making them cross paths, but is it to bring them together, or to test them? Captain Swan AU.
A/N: Prepare thyselves, here be angst. And warnings. Next update will come on Saturday, then from next week updates will come every Tuesday and Friday.
Rating: T (make sure you’re okay with the warnings) Warnings: This chapter contains minor character death, cancer, child abandonment, and some minor child abuse.
Word count for this chapter: 2.6k (47k in total) AO3
Read from the beginning: Tumblr | AO3
~
Chapter 4: Killian Jones, August 11th 1995 – October 31st 2000
Killian doesn't expect to get the girl's name from two policemen who were searching for her. They say she was sneaking out and that they need to get her back home.
He looks at her as she's leaving; her head is low and she doesn't look back at him.
He steps away from the children still playing. He's not in the mood anymore, he's feels more like... eating something... or running to the bathroom to puke. He's not really sure.
He's certain he knows his first hardship on the difficult trip back to England. While still at the airport in Boston, his mother keeps saying something about an "immigration office" as she talks to his father on a payphone, eventually hanging up angrily. She apologizes to Killian and tells him they'll figure things out soon.
They miss their flight. He's too tired to calculate but he's sure they stay in the airport for more than a day, hardly getting any sleep on the hard chairs of the lobby. He's lucky he's got his mama's lap to rest his head on, at least.
He spends a few good hours trying to remember the girl's name; Liam would be so curious to find out about his younger brother's first kiss, and he can't even remember her name! Anna? Enya? No, he would've remembered such a name.
After even more hours they reach home tired, unwashed and hungry, and for the first time he hears his parents fight.
That same night, still shaken by hearing the fight, he goes to his brother's room. They just sit together, looking at Liam's star light that projects constellations on the ceiling. He thought that, upon coming back, he'd spend hours telling him everything about the summer school, and Boston, and having his first kiss, and flying on a plane... instead they just sleep next to each other, and for the first time he understands why some of his friends had said that they sleep with their parents after a nightmare.
That night is, actually, the first time Killian ever has a nightmare.
It only takes a week. He would later consider it the calm before the storm. Calm, or more like quiet, because his friends don't talk to him much, which he interprets as jealousy because he had the trip and they didn't.
But the storm hits exactly one week after they've gotten back; his mother passes out while coming home from work. Some long hours of Liam babysitting him later, his father brings her home from the hospital.
He's never seen their faces so saddened before.
He has so many questions, ones that fifteen-year-old Liam apparently doesn't. Like, what cancer is, and why it's bad that it's fast-acting. What is chemo and why is it too late for it to have effect? Why does mama have to stay in bed so much?
"How long will you stay in bed?" he asks that out loud.
"A few months," his father says.
Another question; why is mama not talking at all?
"And then you'll be up, mama?"
She looks at him, and tears fall from her eyes. She stands up slowly, sits between her two sons on the couch and holds them close.
Killian cannot explain it, but somehow, he knows. Somehow, the knowledge sets itself in his mind as if it were always there.
That October 24th is the most underwhelming birthday he has had. He's so used to big parties and celebrations and gifts, that a simple cake shared between the four of them around the quiet table feels out of place for a birthday.
They never tell him anything, but it doesn't come as a surprise when two weeks before Christmas his father starts preparing a black attire for himself and the boys.
He takes one black dress for mama, too, though Killian knows someone else will put it on her.
The house is silent when they leave for the funeral, and it feels even more silent when they come back.
Killian has a feeling that it will never stop being that.
This night it's Liam who comes into Killian's room and sleeps next to him.
Time becomes a blur; it's one of the days where Liam sleeps next to him that Killian wakes up early, and father isn't home. He doesn't worry much, he just tries to spend time on the TV. Only one channel has signal, and though normally Killian hates listening to the news, he prefers that over the silence now.
He remembers it's a Saturday, but father still hasn't come home when Liam wakes up and takes up making breakfast for the two of them. Killian offers to help, but he burns his hand trying to make an omelette and Liam, with a patience Killian doesn't think he deserves, takes over for him.
Had Killian known more, he would have realized that on any other day he would be getting stressed and angry. Instead, he feels empty – almost as if anticipating the news that, by two days later, become a reality.
Their father left them. He took clothes and personal documents, withdrew all the money they had in the bank, including Killian's and Liam's college funds, and apparently sold their home two days before he left.
Killian didn't cry at mama's funeral. He didn't cry when the social worker confirmed that father had left by his own choice and left them with nothing. But when they tell him that there aren't any foster families that will take both brothers together, Killian breaks down sobbing.
He can't... he can't lose him too.
"I'll visit, brother," Liam says, his voice shaking. "I will call you every day."
Killian trembles in his brother's arms. He'd rather not have a home than not have him right now. He's all he has left.
But the social workers don't seem to care. They pull Killian away – and damn Liam, why isn't he holding onto him? Why is he letting go?! – and put the two brothers in two separate cars.
It's three long but empty weeks before the phone rings and for the first time, it's Killian they ask for.
Mr. Silver doesn't look happy when Killian reaches the phone – not that he ever looks happy when Killian is concerned. He gives him the receiver with a frown.
"Don't take too long," he whispers at him and Killian fights back a shiver.
"Hello?"
"Killian!"
"Oh, Liam! Where are you? Are you coming? I miss you."
"I know, brother. I'm sorry. They took me to Bristol."
"Bristol?! How?! That's too far away!"
"I know. Maybe I can convince someone to drive me to London."
"I miss you. Please come."
"I miss you too. I'll try."
"Come where, Jones?" Mr. Silver's strict voice is heard from the other room.
"Bollocks," Killian whispers.
"Killian!"
"Oh, shut up. You have no idea how much that guy curses."
Mr. Silver appears in the hall right in front of Killian. "I asked you a question, Jones."
"It's- it's my brother, sir."
"You're not answering my question."
Killian swallows hard. "He- he said he may visit one day."
Mr. Silver snorts. "Not in here. Make it quick, now. I'm waiting for a call."
He doesn't leave, instead he stands there, arms crossed, and this time Killian can't stop the shiver down his spine.
"Killian," Liam's calm voice comes from the phone.
"Yes?"
"Is that man treating you right?"
"Yeah, kinda."
"Does he hit you?"
Killian grabs the phone tightly. He's never heard his brother's voice like this. "No." Not yet, he thinks. He's seen how he pulls at the bigger boys' ears when they aren't behaving.
He chances a glance at Mr. Silver, regretting it immediately. His eyebrows are raised suspiciously and he makes a gesture with his hand towards the receiver.
"I gotta go. Try to- please." He doesn't dare say much with that man so close to him.
"I will. I promise, brother. I love you."
"Me too. Goodnight."
He doesn't get a goodnight back. Mr. Silver grabs the receiver and hangs up.
"Move," he says, picking it back up and dialing.
It takes two more months for Liam to actually visit, but Silver doesn't let them go further than the playground a couple blocks away, with him sitting on the bench across from the swings where the brothers sit.
Killian is still young, but his mind is hardening enough to start knowing better. Silver is not suitable for a foster parent, but maybe it's not a coincidence that the other two boys in the house have already sullied criminal records.
"You're not gonna be like them," Liam says.
"Can't I come to Bristol too? Isn't there room in your house?"
"I've talked to the social worker, but I don't know how this works. She says it's not that easy."
"You're lucky," Killian says, looking down at his feet. "My social worker won't answer my calls." When I do get time for a phone call, he thinks.
"Hey, I'm still here. We may be far, but we're both still here. We'll get through this. My foster father said that when I turn sixteen he may let me help around his brother's gas station. I'll make some money, I'll find a job, and when I turn eighteen, I'll do my damnedest to get custody of you."
Killian feels tears well up in his eyes, but he quickly blinks them away. He can't let Silver see him like this.
Empty weeks turn into empty months, and those turn into empty years. Killian changes foster homes, never getting closer to Liam's, but eventually he gets in some kind of trouble – biting back at school bullies, staying out late, getting caught with alcohol – and he always finds himself back to Silver's house.
It's there that he feels the most empty, the most lost. It's only Liam's occasional phone calls, less occasional visits, and the hope that he'll get a job and get them a home for themselves that keeps Killian afloat.
There are times he wonders how things could turn out like this. He used to be happy. Things used to go well for him, he had a bright future... he had a family, a home. Now he's resorted to just waiting until he's old enough to take some control over his life, no matter how little.
And the more time goes by, the more he feels his patience running out.
Nothing is permanent in his life, nothing is stable. Homes come and go. Liam comes and goes. Having only a miserable plastic bag to keep his stuff in, most of the drawings he makes to pass the time end up in the trash. His mother was the one who encouraged him to draw and hang his pieces all over his bedroom walls. Keeping them now only serves as a reminder of what he's lost.
The only thing he actually treasures is the photo of himself, Liam, and their mother, which he managed to grab just in time while the social workers were urging him to pick up only the essentials from his childhood home. As it almost was victim of being ripped to pieces by whatever bully targeted him, he now keeps it in the most uninteresting place he could have thought of; his math notebook.
After turning eighteen, Liam finally moves in London, but he's working two jobs and only has time once a week, for a few hours, to visit Killian.
Killian doesn't celebrate his fifteenth birthday. Not that Silver would care if Killian had asked for a celebration. And when, just two days later, the police call him to come recognize his brother's body after he was killed in a work accident, Killian finds the lack of celebration so fitting that he actually bursts into laughter. He laughs and laughs until his chest starts hurting and he's on his knees, shaking but unable to call for any help.
Silver is still talking to the police on the phone, shouting at him to stop being a brat. It's Ed, the only boy older than Killian in the house, that kneels down to him and slaps him, getting him out of his hysterics.
Killian struggles to hold on, but his resolve breaks into pieces when the doctor raises the sheet covering Liam's body. He doesn't have any care left about Silver seeing him crying and sobbing like this.
One last broken hope he had, that Silver might give a damn after seeing him so devastated, is gone too after that.
It's just that one time; for the next two years that he stays under that horrible man's roof, he cultivates a cool, careless exterior, while his pillow soaks his silent tears almost every night.
At least, Silver doesn't care much for Killian causing trouble, like trespassing, breaking curfew, or even drinking. He just gives him the ceremonious slap and goes on with his day.
So Killian doesn't think too much before deciding to sneak out and into the Halloween party on the other side of the city that Ella – or Cruella, as the kids in the house call her – the first girl in the house in years, suggests they go to. With his meager savings he puts together a pirate costume, puts a thick line of black around his eyes with the eye pencil he borrowed from Cruella, and together they hot-wire the first car they find and drive to the extravagant villa where the party is at.
At first glance, Cruella scoffs and searches around the house for booze.
"I can't believe there's adults here. What was the point?!"
It's a good thing Killian got an eyepatch. The pencil irritates his eye and he has to wash it off in the bathroom, then cover his reddened, smudged eye with the patch. His other eye isn't done and the eyepatch looks weird on the side it's on, but the lights are so low that probably no-one will notice. He doesn't expect anyone to look at him long enough to notice, anyway.
Like any other party, he feels like an outsider, but he doesn't care. He dances by himself while occasionally looking around to check if Cruella found the alcohol. Instead he spots a girl, probably his age and dressed as a zombie princess, who is looking at him. Like, looking looking.
He doesn't connect the feeling in his stomach with the one he'd felt at that game of spin the bottle so many years ago. He's so older, his mind burdened with such darker thoughts, that right now it's confusing to feel an unknown emotion that isn't scraping away at his soul.
And the girl is walking to him, just as a ballad comes on.
"Wanna dance?" she says.
He just offers his hand. His mouth feels so dry he fears his voice won't come out if he tries to say anything.
He heard the term 'butterflies in one's stomach' before, but he had no clue it would feel like this, so overwhelmingly confusing but making him happy at the same time. The girl is smiling at him as they slow dance, and he reckons, so is he. From the corner of his eye he spots Cruella, holding a cup that most definitely doesn't have a plain fizzy drink or juice in it, but he can't tear his gaze away from the girl. There's something familiar about her bright eyes, whose colour he can't decipher in the red and purple lights.
Her expression is soft; her smile falls, but not out of any sadness. The song draws to an end, and suddenly her lips are on his.
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omoi-no-hoka · 4 years
Text
Rural Life and Mental Health in Japan as a Gaijin
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Heads up: This is a very long, personal post about mental health and the stresses of living in rural Japan as a foreigner. If it’s not what you’re looking for in this blog, please feel free not to read it. If you can’t tell by the gif above, this isn’t going to be a very positive post because I’m not in a very positive mood.
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It’s been just shy of five and a half years since I moved to Hokkaido, the northernmost island/prefecture in Japan. In many ways, it’s similar to the American Midwest, which is the region I’m originally from. It’s big on agriculture, it’s got lots of nature and rural areas, winters are long and nasty, and the people have a warmth that make up for the cold snow and ice outside. Heck, even a lot of the flora and fauna are the same.
I think of my current city as my “Japanese hometown” because it was where I stayed during my first trip to Japan and it’s where my hostparents from that time are. I love it here like I love my country bumpkin village of 2,800 back in the states.
But after a little over two years of living and working in this city, I think I need out. I am...tired of it in many ways.
特別扱い Tokubetsu Atsukai, “Special Treatment”
Prior to living in this city, I lived in Sapporo, which has a population of 2 million. There, no one batted an eye at a foreigner walking the streets. A lot of them were surprised that i could use Japanese, but a good few people were used to gaijin that could use nihongo and read kanji.
But in my current city, I have experienced all of the following things, some of which on a daily basis.
DISCLAIMER: I have also had a LOT of very positive experiences with the people of this city. Most of my experiences have been positive or neutral, but a good 40% have been as described below.
Everywhere I go, I am openly stared at. Gawked at, at times. (I am your standard-looking, standard-dressed, slightly overweight white girl. No visible tattoos, piercings, vibrant hair color, or otherwise attention-grabbing aspects about me other than the fact that i am clearly not Japanese.)
I am often spoken to like I am mentally disabled, or if I am with a Japanese person, they will refuse to speak to me and instead speak to my Japanese companion.
I have entered restaurants on my own and had waitstaff make a big “X” with their arms and say “No English” immediately upon seeing my non-Japanese face.
I have had waiting taxi drivers drive off instead of allow a troublesome foreigner into their car.
I have sat down alone at a bar and had the Japanese people beside me openly gossip about me with the assumption that I could not understand them.
When searching for apartments when I moved to this city, I was denied 75% of my picks because they have a “no gaijin” rule. Despite the fact that I can speak and read, that I have a good job and valid visa, and that I have already lived here 3 years without a single late rent payment or complaint against me.
I have built up casual relationships with employees at grocery stores, etc. I frequent, and they have asked me for my contact info because, in their own words, “I’ve always wanted a gaijin for a friend!” In Japan, every girl wants a token gaijin friend instead of a token gay friend.
I have gone on dates with Japanese men who clearly just wanted a white girl to hang on their arm like a piece of swag and insist on taking me to a pasta place because “You must prefer western food to Japanese food” or insisting that I dye my hair blonder to look more foreign.
I am just...so very tired of this 特別扱い (special treatment).
I don’t want to call it 差別 (prejudice) because, the majority of the time, Japanese people think they are doing me a kindness by speaking slowly and simply, or by telling me as soon as possible that they cannot help me in English, etc. While a couple of the above experiences are straight up racism (I’m looking at you, asshole taxi drivers and landlords), most of them are a misguided form of “omotenashi,” a.k.a. Japanese hospitality.
So I try very hard not to let it get to me, because I know that they don’t wish ill upon me. But I’ve worked so goddamn hard to learn this language and speak it well, and it is so frustrating for the people around me to assume that I can’t do what has been my freaking life goal. Or having people assume I can’t understand slightly difficult words and dumb down their language (Even colleagues I’ve worked with for two years now!). In the middle of a conversation they’ll say things like, “It’s hard to deal with that level of animosity--oh wait, omoi-no-hoka-san, sorry, ‘animosity’ means ‘dislike.’”
They mean it in a helpful way, but it just comes across as very condescending and I end up thinking, Oh, so they think my Japanese proficiency is so low i can’t understand that word. Which sends me into doubt over whether my language skills are actually that deficient, or whether I am speaking in a way that makes myself look at bad at Japanese.
The Effects of 特別扱い (Special Treatment)
It’s been gradual, but over the past two years, I have found myself withdrawing from the outside world. I got bad at replying to friend’s messages. I started making excuses to avoid meeting up and hanging out. I would buy all the groceries i needed to last me through the weekend on Friday after work and not emerge until Monday morning to go back to work. Even though I really love the outdoors and used to spend entire days just riding my bike along the river trails here.
...But in the past few months I’ve become unable to answer even close friends’ phone calls and messages. And I’ve even had a hard time phoning my parents, which is crazy because ever since I left home for uni I’ve called my mom on a daily basis. When I think about stepping outside of my apartment, no matter the reason or destination, I am gripped by a dread so strong I nearly throw up. I have gone a couple weekends without food because it would require me leaving my apartment to buy some, or paying for very expensive delivery which also means interacting with whoever is bringing me that food.
I’ve had a stressful summer and fall at work, and that undoubtedly has contributed to my current anxiety overload. But things have settled down at work for the past month now, and not only have I been given an award that only 2% of employees get globally, recently I have been in talks to take on what is very nearly a dream position for me within the company that is a BIG step up career-wise. I have great bosses who recognize my efforts, who listen to what I have to say, and do what they can to help when I tell them I’m in over my head.
But I have had several days where I have woken up, gotten ready for work, and just frozen at my apartment door, too sick at the thought of going outside. And yet, I can’t stand the thought of calling in sick because I feel chronic, self-imposed guilt when I take a day off, no matter the reason. So I call in to work and tell them I have a stomachache and will be in once it’s gone, (which isn’t an absolute lie), and then drag myself into work within a couple hours.
And once I enter the office, do the obligatory bow and apology for being late and causing inconveniences, the dread and anxiety vanish and I am fine until it is time for me to go outside to return home.
This makes me think that work is not a main stressor right now. It doesn’t matter if I’m going to the convenience store or the grocery store or work or anywhere. I think the constant being stared at everywhere I go has gradually accumulated to become a nasty form of social anxiety. I used to have panic attacks in middle school and high school due to home life, but since removing myself from that environment they’ve gone away. I’ve always been a socially-reserved person who shies away from the spotlight, and despite telling myself a thousand times, “Let them look at you--you’re just being you and they’re being them and that’s OKAY,” I just can’t brush it off. I have very, very seriously considered dyeing my hair from its natural brown to black in an effort to blend in, if only slightly. Which is laughable, but that’s just how much it bothers me to stand out.
But the event that really sounded the alarm for me was when my best friend of 10 years, a Japanese girl whom I met by chance my freshman year of uni, who was my roommate for 4 years of uni, who let me sleep on her living room floor here in Japan for 3 months until my work visa came through, who has been with me through thick and thin, sent me a message asking when she could drop off a souvenir for me and
I couldn’t bring myself to reply to her text.
That was when I very clearly knew that I was too deep in this funk to get myself out on my own, and I had to figure out how to get help.
Frankly, despite having struggled with panic attacks and anxiety in the past, I have never sought professional help. Until now, I never felt that my symptoms were so bad that they warranted medication. But the fact that i can’t contact my mother or my best friend, that I would rather not eat anything for two days instead of go outside, means that snorting essential oils and rubbing rose quartz against my temples or whatever isn’t going to be enough.
Mental Health Views in Japan
It’s not exactly a secret that the approach to mental health in Japan is “sweep it under the rug.” You do not talk about it. You may go to a doctor and receive medication, but you do not get counseling, because that involves talking about it. You do not tell your friends. You do not tell your family. You DEFINITELY do not tell your coworkers.
I saw my boss, T, fall into a very similar spiral to my own this summer. Stomach aches in the morning, coming in late, making excuses to get out of outings outside of work, not replying to messages, not sleeping well. And then one day he just vanished. Didn’t show up one Monday.
T wouldn’t respond to our messages so we had to contact his mother to get a hold of him. And once she had confirmed that she had spoken to him and scolded him for being “selfish” by skipping work, my coworkers were satisfied because, in their words, “Now that we know he’s still alive, we don’t have to worry.”
Honestly, that was one of the most fucked up reactions to any situation I have ever seen. I was shocked, because these coworkers truly cared for him, but their mutual reaction to this was to just...let him languish.
T announced to a select number of supervisors/colleagues that he had been diagnosed with general anxiety disorder and would be stepping down from his position. He said that he had been diagnosed years ago, but had not disclosed it because he knew that he would never be promoted if anyone knew.
And that’s one of the big reasons that no one wants to talk about their mental illness here. In Japan, having a mental illness is a shameful thing. It shows that you’re weak, that you can’t keep up with everyone else, that you are flawed in a way that will adversely affect those around you at one point or another.
But my company really is a great company and the people in charge are progressive. T has a lot of great skills and experience, and they didn’t want to let him go. So they told him that they would find someone to fill his current role, but once he had rested and gotten better, they wanted him to come back and do a position that he used to do, one that he really shined in and enjoyed. And that is where he’s at now, and he’s doing much better for it.
So, having seen all of this unfold mere months ago, I grappled with how much I should tell my employers. The talk of this new and big position in Tokyo was underway, yet I knew that I wouldn’t be able to handle it unless I got better.
So I bit the bullet, and on the night that I couldn’t respond to my best friend’s text, I sent my boss a message, explaining my symptoms, how long they’d been going on, what I thought the causes were, and that I wanted to take the morning off to see a doctor about it sometime that week.
And I was really shocked by his reply.
This boss is the guy that filled T’s position, and i didn’t know him that well yet. As it turns out, he used to be a counselor before he joined this company. He told me that I could go to the doctor whenever I wanted, but that he also wanted to talk in person about this the next day.
The next day he called me into the conference room with one other manager, a guy I really trust and like. When T vanished, shit really hit the fan at the office and it was basically this manager and me keeping us afloat for the first couple weeks, so we’ve got a lot of camaraderie going. They asked me to talk more about what was going on, why I was feeling all this anxiety, etc.
And it was during this conversation that I saw the division between the traditional Japanese views of mental health and modern views of mental health.
When I explained to them both why I wanted to see a doctor and try medication, their reactions were mixed. My boss, the former counselor, said that if I thought it was best, trying out medication for a few weeks was a good idea.
The manager looked doubtful and said, “But do you really think that going to a doctor and getting pills from him will fix everything? If you’re diagnosed, what will your colleagues think? I thought you wanted that promotion.”
In that moment i felt intense fear and regret, as well as hurt. T had said that he had withheld his diagnosis for this very reason. A part of me had wanted to think it was paranoia on his part, but now I realized that he had been right to keep it a secret. This manager, whom I knew very well and trusted deeply, clearly was of the opinion that a diagnosis/medication = evidence of weakness.
So I ended up lying and telling them, “I’ll go to the doctor just to get some sleeping pills.” (I’ve been waking up every hour on the hour for a couple months now.) Sleeping pills aren’t frowned upon in Japan and the manager was pleased with this decision.
And after that manager left, I told my boss the truth, that i would be getting anti-anxiety meds as well because I really thought it was necessary, and that I would appreciate him not disclosing it unless he was required to, which he agreed to.
Seeing a Psychiatrist in Japan
So now i had to find a psychiatrist and make an appointment. A Google search provided me horrors. Below is an excerpt of a Google review of a certain mental health clinic in my city, and the record of the exchange between the doctor and reviewer (patient). I’m not going to translate it all because it’s long, but these are some highlights of the doctor’s words directly to the patient.
“You can’t sleep? I can’t sleep either. What, do you want some pills for it?”
“You can’t expect me to believe what a patient says.”
(After he made the patient cry) “You are being so difficult. Could you stop crying?”
He gives her medication, has silent nurses send her out to the waiting room where she continues to cry, and the doctor comes to the waiting room and says, “Could you hurry up and pay and leave?”
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Having read this, I was filled with absolute fear. Maybe I was better off trying to fix this on my own after all.
But I kept searching, and I also learned that my city hall has a 心の相談窓口 (Kokoro no Soudan Madoguchi), “Mind Consultation.” You can call them to learn information about what sorts of mental health facilities/options are available in your area. A very kind lady there informed me that it takes about 2-3 months to get in to any psychiatrist in this city, most of them do not take new patients, and that counseling is almost non-existent. Unless I was a harm to myself or others, I would have to wait. However, there was one general hospital in the city that had one psychiatrist staffed. This hospital has no reservation system whatsoever (very common in Japan) and takes a set number of patients in the morning and evening. I could try my luck to get in and see her.
So that was what i did, and I was able to see her on the first morning I went! I think the Kokoro no Soudan Madoguchi lady made it sound harder to get into so I wouldn’t feel let down if it didn’t work out the first time I went.
Having read the horror story above, I had a lot of trepidation stepping into the exam room with her and two nurse secretaries. I had expected it to be a very clinical, dry exchange of symptoms and a sufficient prescription with a token お大事に。
And, more than anything, I had feared that she would say something like, “Maybe you should just go home to your own country where you wouldn’t stand out.”
But she asked me a wide range of questions, with none of them focusing on the fact that I was a gaijin: what my symptoms were, how long they’d been going on, what I had going on in my life, what work was like, past history of anxiety, etc., and she and the nurses all truly listened to what i had to say. It was clear that she cared about the underlying causes and me as a person.
She told me that it sounded like I was experiencing a buildup of stress and anxiety and that she wanted me to try a low dose of anti-anxiety meds and sleeping pills for a week and then come back for another discussion.
That was 3 weeks ago. I’ve since been in the process of working with her to find the right combination of medication. Fun fact: they prescribe you Rohypnol (roofies) for sleeping meds in Japan if they deem your insomnia is serious enough. So. That is interesting.
Where I Am Now
I am keeping my boss informed of my condition and he is still very supportive. He seems to have informed his bosses of my tribulations to some extent, because they have gone out of their way to check in on me and see how I’m doing, which is very kind of them. Of course, they also know that i went above and beyond the call of duty for several months in a row until recently, and they could simply be asking because of that. Either way, I am touched that they would think of me, as I am a lowly translator for a lesser project and they are quite a ways up on the corporate ladder.
I am still in talks about taking on a very exciting position in Tokyo HQ, despite one of those bosses likely being aware of my situation to some extent. I used to dread the thought of Tokyo because I am a country girl who needs to see green, but recently I’ve come to the tough decision that I need to leave my beloved Japanese hometown, just like i left my American one. I love them, but I do not belong in them. I have visited the Tokyo HQ quite a few times, and there are a ton of foreigners in the area so I don’t stand out at all. I think that as long as I can live reasonably close enough to a park, I can satisfy my needs for nature while lessening my social anxiety.
I am having good days and bad days where it is still hard for me to leave the house. But I am having more good days than bad now. And today I was finally able to send a text message back to my best friend. Which really doesn’t seem like a lot, but it is a lot to me. My friend is supportive and understanding, which means the world to me.
I’m getting back to being me. 💗
p.s.: The gif at the top of this is from the anime Mushishi, which I think illustrates various mental illnesses and their effects in a very metaphoric way.
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mastrmiscellaneous · 3 years
Text
Son of Smintheus, Daughter of the Forge
Description: It is an average day at the beginning of summer, 2008, until some old nightmares return, with a vengeance.
in other words, two new demigod are introduced to their new reality.
Word count: 6805
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Justin and Lucille Peters were never exactly ones to fit in well with their peers. They always felt different for so many reasons, including their family type, especially for where they lived, a small town outside St Cloud, Minnesota. All they had was each other and their mother, a wonderful woman who made instruments for a living. What made that worse for his family was that Justin and Lucille looked incredibly different, due to their different fathers. Justin was pale and blond, his hair the colour of pure gold, with shining, icy blue eyes, whereas Lucille had darker skin, as if she spent every minute of her life outside, which was far from the truth, with copper brown eyes and bronze coloured hair. Neither of them looked like their mother all that much physically, but it was clear with how they held themselves. The three of them were calm and confident, always wore a smile, and were very people oriented.
However, they still had their problems. Justin had terrible dyslexia, and had a reputation around his peers that he was cursed. You see, people seem to get very sick, very quickly if they upset him. Sometimes it was just throwing up for a few days. other times it was so much worse. obviously, nothing could be traced back to him, so his journey through school was rather simple, but he was always alone, for the safety of others. Sometimes he felt like the curse was real. Luckily, he always had his family. Lucille loved her brother, always wanting to play, and just enjoyed being in his presence. He kept her calm, and made her feel safe, which was rare for her, as she had ADHD, and had a terrible case of red-green colour-blindness. This led to a lot of bullying from her peers, due to her awkward nature and easy confusion when it came to colour. But their mother always offered comfort, and they always had the friendship between them, so they were perfectly happy.
That was, until the first week of summer, when a strange creature appeared, throwing their lives out of balance forever.
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Justin woke to the sound of his mother knocking on his bedroom door and calling for him to wake up.
“Justin! It’s ten o’clock, wake up!” Sounded her melodic voice. despite the rush in her voice, she still sounded sweet.
“Ok, mom!” Justin called back through a yawn. He sat up and stretched, rolling out of bed, and quickly changed out of his pyjamas and into a pair of blue jeans, a grey t-shirt, and his favourite blue jacket. Stretching and flexing his muscles, Justin trudged down the stairs to the kitchen, where he found his mother, Diana, and his sister, Lucille, siting at the kitchen table eating breakfast. Lucille seemed distracted, as always, fiddling with some cuttings of the E-string of a guitar, paper clips, and buttons between bites. Despite the fact she was joyfully playing with her materials, she looked tense, her movements stiff and little shoulders squared. Her copper eyes kept darting towards the window, as if she were expecting someone to be peering in through the window.
“Morning, sleepy head!” Diana teased as Justin emerged from the corridor. He grabbed a glass and poured himself some juice, them prepared himself some toast for breakfast.
“Morning, mom. Hey Lucille!”
The 8-year-old looked up, just realising her brother had arrived, and smiled wide, immediately bouncing on her seat and greeting. She was definitely the morning person between the two. The tree shared pleasant conversation, Justin attempting to wake up quickly, as they were going to be working in Diana’s shop that day.
Diana owned a music shop, selling, making, and repairing instruments of all kinds, and sometimes teaching music. The siblings loved working in the shop, but they had very different reasons for it. Justin loved the music side of it, practicing on the instruments, making sure everything was tuned perfectly, and helping with researching the types and makes of instruments they sold. Lucille, on the other hand, liked the making and repair of instruments. Lucille, despite her young age, is a master with tools, and knows exactly what to do to fix even the worst of damaged goods, making it seem as if brand new. Lucille was a good musician in her own right, but simply preferred the construction of it all. She struggled a little with finding the specific tools she needed, as she was colour-blind, with protanopia to be specific, so struggled to differentiate between the tools, as they were colour coded, so her and Diana had come up with a system and ordered the tools in a very specific way, so they could find everything easily. Everything was in order, and everything had it’s place.
The three of them finished with their breakfast and were fully dressed and ready to leave, out of the door and starting their small walk to the main street of their small town, when Lucille started getting squirmy and clingy. She was grumbling and gripping her mother’s hand tighter than usual, pulling on her sweater with her other hand, and looking around frantically.
“Are you ok, Lucy?” Justin asked, trying to follow her eyes, but they changed direction constantly, so that was pretty much impossible. Lucille replied with a simple concerned groan, and quickly turning her head towards the woods on the other side of the road, nuzzling closer to her mother as they walked.
“What’s wrong honey?” Diana asked, slowing down and kneeling down. The older two believed she was either under or over stimulated, that happened a lot, but the girl was not acting how she normally did. Instead, she appeared... fearful?
“Hear something...” She mumbled, slipping her hands into her sleeves for protection.
Diana sighed and brushed a lock of hair out of Lucille’s eyes. “Honey, there’s nothing dangerous around, trust me. I know you’re on edge because of your nightmare, but you’re safe with me. I’ll always protect you.”
Lucille glanced at the wooded area one more time, but returned her gaze to her mother, who offered her a comforting look. Justin followed Lucille’s stare, just to see if his sister was just being paranoid. He inhaled sharply when, for the quickest second, he locked eyes with a woman, pale as fresh winter snow, with sleek black hair, hiding in the bushes on the edge of the woods. As quickly as Justin spotted the woman, she disappeared, almost as if she dissolved into the shadows.
“Right Justin?” Diana snapped her son out of his daze. “We’d never let anyone take your sister, right?”
“Um, yeah, of course!” Justin smiled down at Lucille, who’s nerves had seemingly fizzled out, as she looked up at her brother with hope. Justin puffed his chest out and put on a brave face, making her laugh. “I will always save you, dear sister!”
Lucille laughed and smiled at her brother, comforted by his protectiveness.
“Alright, not that that’s settled,” Diana stood and took Lucille’s hand. “Let’s get to the shop, we open pretty soon!”
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The trio spent the day doing average shop work, occasionally seeing to a customer and their needs. Lucille was in the back room, happily fiddling with a broken stand that usually holds about eight guitars. It had been knocked over accidentally by a customer a few days prior, damaging the joints and hooks, so Lucille had a perfectly stimulating job to do for a few hours. Her neatly ordered tools were sitting on her workbench, ordered by type and size. Justin was busy tuning the string instruments that had just been delivered, preparing them to be displayed and sold. Diana was logging the shipment into their system and tying labels with a description, barcode, and price on them. All was good, and all was peaceful.
After a few hours of working, a woman walked into the shop and looks around. She consistently glanced at Justin, who was carefully watching her, trying to think of where he knew her from. She was strangely dressed, wearing a long flowing, silk dress, shining a dark green. That would be fine on it’s own, but she had matched it with a deep purple velvet cloak that trailed down to her ankles, with long, flowing sleeves, and a long pointed hood. She had thin, sleek hair, as dark as the night sky, greased back tight. Her pale skin could be matched with a piece of paper. Her chin was pointed to an abnormal extent, the bridge of her nose wide, reminding Justin of the snout of a cat, and her black eyes were sunken into her head.
Diana finished logging a particular shipment of Benson guitars, and went into the back room to check on Lucille, leaving Justin alone with the strange woman. She saw her chance as the other adult left and she approached the boy.
“Hello, Justin...” Her voice was quiet and raspy, she spoke with an abnormally large and toothy smile, her canines scarily long and sharp.
How did she know his name? Justin was certain he would remember that face. She was certainly familiar, but he could not place it for the life of him.
“Who –”
“My name is Mormo...” The woman hissed, her smile never faltering. Justin stepped back from the counter as she leant over it. Her gnarled, clawed hands gripped the counter tight, her nails digging into the wood and permanently scratching it. “I met you when you were young...”
That’s it. When Justin was eight, he dreamt about a woman with a cat like face and gnarled hands, who would lean over his bed late at night, whispering about him coming with her, how he would have fun with her. She would take him to her world, she would tell him. Luckily, she would disappear every time he called for his mom.
“Mom!” Justin yelled through the shop, panic striking though his voice. He never broke eye contact. He didn’t think he could. The woman recoiled as he shouted, shooting her stare at the door, as Diana rushed through, Lucille close behind. At the sight of the little girl, Mormo’s smile returned, showing off her vampiric fangs. Lucille squeaked and stumbled back, fear enveloping her face. Diana rushed forward towards the counter and pushed Justin behind her with one hand, and placing the other under the counter, seemingly reaching for something.
“You!” Diana raged, her normally melodic voice gruff and furious. “Get away from my children!”
Mormo growled and hissed. “They are wanted by the titan! They belong to him!”
Diana grabbed what she was looking for and lunged over the counter, tackling the creature and pushing her into a line of keyboards, knocking them all over and pinning her to the floor, holding a bronze pointed dagger to her throat. The beast shrieked and, deafening the two children, and thrashed on the ground, kicking and clawing at Diana. She finally gripped the back of Diana’s polo, digging her claws into her back. Diana called out in pain, but kept her form well enough to keep the monster on the floor, away from her children.
“The titan king has called for them! He will receive them, whether you like it or not!”
Mormo dug her claws in deeper and ripped Diana off her, throwing her to the side. Diana hit the wall with a crash, making the bass guitars displayed on the wall crash to the floor, and she dropped the dagger as she slumped to the ground. Mormo rolled to the side and crouched like a cornered animal, hissing at Diana, then stood, slowly, her too-wide smile returning, this time aimed at Lucille, who was half hiding behind the doorframe.
Hell. No.
Justin meant what he said earlier that day. No one was going to hurt his sister on his watch. He let his instincts take over, and vaulted the counter, landing beside his mother, grabbing the dagger and turned towards the creature. Mormo had leapt towards the door with clear intent, but Justin was surprisingly quick. He trusted his instincts, reaching out with his left hand, tensing his fingers into a clawed shape, imagining the pain he wanted to inflict on the creature who hurt his mom and threatened his sister. No one hurts his family. The creature dropped to the floor, choking on air as she kicked and scratched at the floor. Her mouth started to fill with a thick, lumpy, golden liquid, and her eyes started to stream with tears. These tears turned to gold as the creature writhed in pain, choking on her golden liquid, her coughs spraying the liquid across the room. His right hand held the dagger. Before he could think, he marched towards the woman and thrust the weapon down towards her face, stabbing the blade through her piecing black eye.
With a deafening shriek, the monster reached out with her claw and scratched Justin’s bicep. Before his eyes, his old nightmare crumpled to ash, leaving a thick coat of grey on the carpet floor, partially covered by the velvet cloak. Justin’s breath was deep and rapid. His hands shook at what he had just done, and he dropped the dagger in the dust.
“Justin?” The quiet voice of Lucille echoed from the doorway, as she peered out. Her lower lip was shaking, and tears were filling her eyes.
“Lucy... Come here, it’s ok!” He reassured, opening his arms for a hug, and she rushed into the embrace. “We’re ok. I wont let anything hurt you.”
The children heard shuffling behind them and the turned to see their mother shuffling to her feet.
“Mom!” The two cried, rushing towards her. Justin helped her up and guided her to a stool. Lucille sat beside her, hugging her and crying into her side. Diana comforted her daughter, stroking her short bronze hair, muttering comforts to her. Justin rushed into the back room and grabbed the first aid kit, offering to clean the wounds on her back. Diana agreed, trusting her son more than most would expect, but told him to put up the closed sign and put the window cover down so customers would not see. She removed her shirt and hugged her daughter close, wincing at the sensation of the cleansing alcohol whilst comforting her daughter. Justin dressed the wound, it was relatively long, but shallow, so no need for medical intervention, and Diana put her shirt back on. Lucille had stopped crying, but not it was Justin’s turn to be emotional. However, crying was not his response.
“What in the world was that?” He yelled, his voice cracking mid sentence.
“That was Mormo, an Empousa.” Diana sighed sadly.
“Im sorry, what?”
“A creature from ancient Greece. She’s been after the two of you for a long time.” Diana was avoiding eye contact with her children. “Both of your fathers told me she would be.”
“What are you talking about?” Justin’s voice cracked in desperation. Lucille looked between her family members, fear in her copper eyes, her gloved hands gripping her sweater tight. “Our fathers? Ancient Greece? Mom, what are you not telling us?”
“You two are special in some very specific ways. It’s your fathers’ doing. I knew it would happen eventually, but I hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.”
“Mom...”
“We have to go home. You two need to pack. I’m taking you somewhere safe.”
 -------------------------------------
After two hours of packing the bare essentials into duffle bags. Justin packed spare shirts, another jacket, jeans, shorts, and pjs, along with his pan flute, a notebook, and his wallet. Lucille packed the same amount of clothes, along with a notebook of her own, some tools, and stray materials to make things with. They both grabbed a blanket, and Lucille took her teddy bear, hugging it close to her chest as she watched her mom pace around the room. As Justin lugged the bags to the car, Diana made a phone call. She spoke in a hushed tone, sounding panicked and upset the whole time. The call lasted about ten minutes. Once she was done, she called the children to the car and they set of on a long journey.
The mysterious trip took all night and all day. Lucille slept with her head on Justin’s lap the whole night, and a good way into the morning. Justin barely slept. He tried to engage is mother in conversation, but she refused to explain what was happening.
“All I can say is it has to do with your fathers…”
That is the only explanation she could muster. Her voice cracked as she spoke, Justin knew not to probe deeper. Therefore, he decided to play with Lucille’s short hair to distract himself, making her nuzzle into his lap and groan a little. The little 8-year-old never failed to make him smile. For the rest of the trip, Justin fell in a chasm between being asleep and being awake. This was not a fun trip at all.
 -------------------------------------------
“Mom, where are we?” Justin asked. He looked around the area they had stopped. It was a small clearing in the thick pine woods just off the main road, at the bottom of a tall hill. Justin adjusted the straps of his backpack to fit better on his shoulders as his heart started to flutter with nerves. His mother was making sure Lucille was fully awake, and tying her shoes. The little girl looked very scared, hunched over, and hugging her teddy close to her chest. Justin locked eyes with his sister, her copper eyes starting to fill with fearful tears. Diana looked up at her daughter, noticed the tears, and quickly wiped them away, whispering comforts to Lucille as she pulled her out of the car.
“We’re meeting a friend of your fathers. Both of them. He will help you with the recent… problem…” She sounded extremely apprehensive. She squeezed Lucille’s hand and pulled Justin close to her.
“You mean the monster?” Lucille squeaked, hiding her face into her bear. Diana breathed sharply and forced a smile.
“Yes honey. I mean the monster.”
“Mom, we’re in the middle of the woods! There’s nothing around here!”
“We just have to climb that hill. That is where he said to meet him.”
All Justin could think was ‘Is my mom sending us to our deaths?’. She was being so cryptic, nothing like her normal chipper self. She was stiff, constantly looking around. Justin swore he could see tears starting to fill her eyes as she pulled Lucille out of the car. She took her daughter by the hand and put a hand on Justin’s shoulder.
“Let’s go.”
They climbed the hill, Justin carrying his duffle, Diana carrying Lucille’s, slightly slipped off her shoulder to avoid the wound on her back. The short hike uphill was quiet, only filled by the sounds of the forest, and the laboured breath of the three. They stopped at the peak of the hill, next to a giant pine tree with a golden fur laying at the base, and stood at the base of a wooden arch, with writing carved into the banner. It appeared to be in Ancient Greek, but for some reason, Justin could read it clearly.
Camp Half-Blood...
“Miss Peters! You have arrived!” A man’s voice sounded from a few feet away, making Justin turn. He jumped at the sight of the man. Well, half man. Before him was a pure white stallion, but where the head was supposed to be, there was the torso of a man with shoulder length curly hair and a thick, neatly trimmed beard. “Thank the gods you are all safe.”
“Well, I’d like to keep it that way. If only I could wait...” Diana responded. She was definitely tearing up now.
“You do not have to worry. Your children will be safe here.” The half-man looked between the children, who were staring at him in utter awe. “You must be Justin and Lucille! It is a pleasure to meet you!”
Justin just continued to stare, clear shock on his face as his icy eyes glanced up and down between the two halves of the man. Lucille spoke up.
“What are you?” She spoke with fascination in her voice, slightly bouncing on her feet. The man chuckled and the horse half leant down on it’s front legs.
“I am a centaur, young hero. Half man, half horse.” He smiled a kind smile, He reminded Justin on a wise grandfather. “My name is Chiron. I’m going to keep you safe for a little while in my camp.”
The centaur and three humans conversed for a while, explaining what exactly was happening. Apparently, the Greek myths were real, and their fathers were not just deadbeats, but they were deadbeat gods! Not only that, but this was a camp meant just for kids like them, other children with a godly parent, Demigods. Their mother was going to leave them here for the summer, she would come back for them in late August. Here, they would train to defend themselves against monsters, like Mormo.
Justin and Lucille were wanted by an evil group of people for some unknown reason. Chiron guessed they were particularly powerful. He said he could sense it. That power was desired by someone named Chronos. That was apparently a terrible thing.
This is the summer that changed their lives forever.
 -----------------------------------------
Diana left her children in the care of Chiron, tearfully saying goodbye to them, and staying at the top of the hill waving them off. Lucille was holding her bear close to her chest, and Justin was gripping her hand with intense strength. Not enough to hurt her, but it was tense. Chiron took them to a large wooden house, and sat them down on a soft, long couch and continued their chat, introducing them to the crazy world they now lived in. Lucille was cuddled into Justin’s side, mostly staying quiet, but occasionally making noise if Chiron made her laugh. Justin was far more serious, keeping a level head. He needed to, or he’d break.
This took all afternoon. The two new demigods were hungry. Luckily, it was close to dinner time now. Chiron had called for an older camper, a boy named Conner Stoll, who was apparently the Head Councellor of the Hermes cabin, where the children of Hermes, the children of minor gods, and the unclaimed kids stayed. Conner introduced himself and took them to the mess hall to meet the rest of the cabin residents.
Justin perched on the end of the crowded table, with Lucille practically sitting on his lap, their meals left untouched in front of them. Justin tried to converse with Conner and Travis Stoll, but there were so many interruptions from the rest of the table that conversation was essentially impossible. Instead, he focused his attention on Lucille. She was nuzzled into his side, quietly playing with a piece of wire she had in her pocket. Justin tried to engage her in conversation, asking about what she wanted to do with her wire, but she could not speak to him. She missed their mom. As did he.
After an hour, the siblings had managed to eat half of their plates, Justin almost forcing food down his sister’s throat so she would not be hungry in the middle of the night. The centaur, Chiron, cleared his throat and dismissed the demigods to the amphitheatre for a sing a long and campfire. That made the siblings perk up a little, Justin liked to sing, and Lucille liked campfires. The atmosphere that announcement brought was full and exciting, which made them more excited as clearly that meant this campfire was going to be fun. Justin took Lucille by the hand when the Hermes table stood and they followed the other campers through the dim evening light towards a classic style, three quarter circle amphitheatre with a large bonfire in the middle, waiting to be lit. as the campers entered the arena, laughing and joking about with each other, the pile of wood burst into flames, a bright yellow and orange colour, quickly growing larger the more campers entered the theatre.
“The fire is controlled by surrounding people’s moods.” Justin’s thoughts were interrupted by the feminine voice of a camper Justin did not recognise. She was beautiful, to say the least. With dark hair, shining brown in the fire’s light, and eyes that were an unrecognisable colour, switching between blue and brown with every flicker of the flames, Justin struggled to think of how he would describe her to people. “The happier the camp is, the bigger and brighter the flames. I’m Silena, Counsellor of the Aphrodite cabin.”
“Urm,” Well done Justin. He snapped back into reality when he felt Lucille pull down on his hand, the way their mom had taught them to do when they needed to snap Lucille back into reality. He finally found his voice and responded. “I’m Justin. This is my sister, Lucille.”
“Well, hello there, Lucille!” Silena’s perky voice made Lucille smile properly for the first time that day. Justin silently thanked the gods that apparently existed for that smile. “And hello Justin. Do you know who your godly parent is?”
“All I know is they’re different guys.” Justin shrugged. “Mom never told us about them.”
“She probably doesn’t know herself, sadly.” She sighed slightly, but her smile never faltered. “It happens a lot. Don’t worry, I have a feeling you’ll get claimed pretty quick.”
At that, the trio turned to the voices of several people, Silena was being called by her cabin, and the siblings were being called by Conner. They bid their goodbyes and went to sit with their cabins. Chiron and Dionysus stood in front of the fire and greeted the campers. Chiron continued to speak, talking about the events of the week. Justin was not really paying attention, he was too focused on holding his sister close to his side, and scanning the pavilion, trying to see where they would fit in. The campers were sitting in eight groups, all with incredible similarities. It was all very overwhelming. What made it worse was when he heard his name.
Chiron’s speech had ended with him acknowledging the two newest campers, which sadly were him and Lucille. Lucille hid in Justin’s arm, and Justin smiled awkwardly, waving a little, as the campers all turned to look at them. Many of the girls cooed at the image of the small girl hiding in her brother’s arm. The boys chuckled a bit at Justin’s awkward behaviour.
“Justin and Lucille Peters, our newest campers, came to us earlier today, escorted by their mother. Let us pray for a quick claiming for the two of you!”
Once Chiron had finished his speech, the sing-along started, orchestrated by the Apollo cabin. it lasted for a long time; it was pitch black by the time they were to go back to their cabins to sleep. Lucille was drifting off by this time, and was leaning on Justin as they stood to walk back to the cabins. the crowd was bustling and thick. That is why it was so obvious when it stopped, and everyone stared at Justin. He was confused at first, not noticing what was happening since he was concentrating on his sister, but he quickly realised there was a bright yellow glow shining above his head. He looked up, seeing an apparition floating above his head.
“What the—” He muttered, then looked around for an explanation. Chiron was the one to give him one.
“Well, it looks like half our prayers have been answered!” He smiled and clapped his hands together. “Praise Justin, Son of Apollo!”
A cheer erupted from the crowd. Justin just squeezed Lucille’s hand. He knew this meant their first night away from their home would be spent separated from each other. How fun.
 -------------------------------------------
After collecting Justin’s belongings from his spot on the floor, he was escorted out of the Hermes cabin to be taken to the Apollo cabin by the counsellor, Lee Fletcher. Lucille was next to him, looking extremely anxious and upset. Justin hitched his bag over his shoulder and went to stand up, but was lightly tackled by Lucille before he could. She whimpered into his shirt, her shoulders shaking as she hugged him as tight as she could.
Justin was to collect his items and be escorted to the Apollo cabin by their counsellor, Lee Fletcher. He was struggling, as Lucille had caught on to what was happening, and was not letting him. She was attached to his side, seemingly attempting to stop him from moving. The rest of the cabin avoided looking at the scene. The demigods are used to heartbreak, they are used to untimely death, but watching this scared little girl be separated from the only person she knew, from her brother, this was truly heart-breaking.
Justin finished grabbing his things and flung his bag over his shoulder. He attempted to stand, but Lucille is surprisingly strong for an eight year old. It helped her case that Justin did not want to leave her. But sadly, he had to. You have to sleep in your godly parent’s cabin once you’re claimed. Justin couldn’t help but think this was a dumb rule.
“Come on, Lucy, I have to go...” He muttered, half-heartedly.
“No.” Lucille hid her face, holding on to him tighter. Justin leg his shoulders sag and he crouched down, pulling her into a tight, enclosed hug. She almost disappeared in his embrace. He held the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her short hair.
“I’m sorry Lucy, I have to go. Trust me, I don’t want to, but I have to.” He sighed and pulled a way, wiped escaped tears from her eyes, forcing the kindest smile he could. “Don’t worry, I’m only two cabins down, and ill see you in the morning!”
“Promise?” She said quietly.
“I promise.” He gestured vaguely to the other people in the room. “While I’m gone, you gotta trust these people, they’ll make sure you’re ok. They’ll keep you safe.”
“Justin, you coming?” The voice of Conner Stoll echoed from the door. Justin called back he’d be a second, then pulled Lucille into another hug, kissed her forehead, and said goodnight. As he stood, Lucille whimpered.
“I love you...”
“I love you too, Lucy.”
And off Justin went, escorted to the Apollo cabin to spend his first night away from his mother separated from his scared little sister, and in a cabin with a group of other kids just like him. He did not sleep well. He was too worried about Lucille.
 ----------------------------------------
Lucille watched as her brother left the cabin. As soon Conner closed the door, tears started to flow out of her copper eyes. As she started to cry, She felt a hand on her shoulder, and heard shuffling at her side. She looked up, and locked eyes with a girl about the same age as Justin, with tanned, mocha skin, icy blue eyes, and what Lucille safely presumed was deep brown hair. Her colour-blindness at least let her see dark brown properly. She looked kind, soft, comforting eyes staring at Lucille as the little girl let some tears flow.
“Hey, I’m Clara.” The girl introduced herself. Her voice was calm and sweet, deeper than expected coming from her small, slim frame. She had an accent Lucille could not place, all she knew was that it was not totally American. “It’s Lucille right?”
Lucille nodded, sniffing and wiping her eyes.
“Nice to meet you.” She said, followed with a sigh. “I know it’s scary being her all alone, but you’re safe her. Why don’t you come with me, me and another new kid are gonna play a game before bed. Wanna join?”
Lucille nodded and followed Clara to sit with a boy with shaggy black hair and shining dark eyes. They played a card game called MythoMagic for a while, Lucille struggled a bit, as the attacks were organised by colour, and well, being colour blind is so fun, but she memorised the order they went in. The trio had some fun before sleeping soundly. Lucille found that Justin had left his Jacket on her bed roll. She slept curled up, covered by her brother’s jacket.
 -------------------------------------
The next day, Justin arose to a room that appeared to be glowing in the morning light. The sudden change from darkness to light hurt his eyes, the room appeared to be glowing in the morning light. Whether that was because of the bright white and yellow paint covering the walls and furniture, or because the building was actually glowing, he could not tell. He would not put it past this camp to have glowing buildings. He swore the silver cabin across the courtyard (Artemis’ cabin maybe?) was glowing last night.
“Wakey wakey newbie!” Lee Fletcher bounced up to Justin’s bedside, far too happy for this early in the morning. “Breakfast is soon, and I have to show you around the camp today!”
Justin grunted and gave Lee a thumbs up in acknowledgement.
“Not a morning person, huh? Good luck with that.”
At that, Lee went off to get dressed himself. Justin took another then minutes to get himself up, only encouraged by the thought of greeting Lucille. He pulled on an orange camp tshirt and blue basketball shorts, with blue canvas shirts. It wasn’t long until it was time to march their way down to the mess hall for breakfast, and for Justin to see if his sister was ok.
 -----------------------------------
Lucille was woken up by the girl from the night before, Clara. She was told to get dressed, as breakfast would be soon, and Clara gave her a small tshirt coloured a strange greyish yellow, with the words Camp Half Blood on it. The residents of the Hermes cabin got dressed and slowly filtered out to the mess hall, Clara waiting for Lucille as their cabin mates passed them. Lucille was slow, still tired from her late night, and it showed. She was yawning constantly, and her eyes were drooping.
“Hey Lucille, you gotta hurry, we’ll be late to breakfast.” Clara was hungry, but remained calm with the little girl. She knows how she feels, Clara had come to camp alone the year prior. Being young and coming to terms with staying here is daunting. She looked out of the window and smiled as she saw a familiar blonde haired boy exiting the Apollo cabin. “Justin’s outside, we should go meet him before eating!”
That made Lucille perk up. She rushed to put on her shoes, messing up the laces and needing Clara to fix them before they left. Lucille rushed outside and ran to her brother, who had waited outside to greet her. They shared a strong embrace and spoke quietly to each other, Clara waiting behind Lucille as she they caught up. Clara zoned out to give them privacy, focusing on the bustling crowd of campers wandering to the mess hall, until her heard her name being said by the little girl.
“She did, did she?” Justin looked up to her and smiled. Noticing she had zoned out and didn’t hear them, he elaborated. “You comforted her last night?”
“Naí, of course.” Her accent caught Justin off guard. She sounded vaguely European to him, but he could not place it 100%. “I’m not exactly going to let a little one suffer. I’m Clara Ostá, unclaimed.”
“Great to meet you.” Justin stood and smiled at Clara.
The trio wandered to the mess hall, Justin joining his godly siblings at their table, promising to meet up with the girls after his tour of the camp. Clara promised to look after Lucille. Breakfast lasted for an hour and a half. Chiron made an announcement before the campers were allowed to leave and go on with their day, basically explaining that there was something new in the lake, and the heads of the Ares and Athena cabins must come to speak to him. After that, he motioned for them to leave, but everyone stopped suddenly when a red light appeared above Lucille’s head. Lucille looked extremely confused, the red light appearing a dark yellow and blending in with the yellow sunlight, so was near invisible to her. The symbol within the light was a flaming hammer, which apparently shocked one of the tables, as they muttered between each other about her being so small. Chiron broke the silence the same way he did last night with Justin.
“What a pleasant start to the day! Praise Lucille, daughter of Hephaestus!”
The campers clapped for Lucille, the table that was muttering cheered. They must be children of Hephaestus too. As the campers dispersed, a tall, muscular kid, several years older than Justin, walked over to Lucille and introduced himself as Beckendorf, the Head Counsellor of the Hephaestus cabin, and her eldest brother on their dad’s side. Justin, along with Lee Fletcher, walked over to the pair, and Justin immediately congratulated her for being claimed. After some explanation of who Hephaestus was, Lucille got extremely excited. Justin joked that her fiddling with materials and affinity with tools made so much sense now. Clara bid her goodbyes, saying she was going to train, but would meet the two later in the day.
The two Counsellors took the siblings on a tour of the camp together, hyping up all of the training facilities and leisure activities, as well as the classes like ancient Greek, and the Introduction to Myths and Monsters. Suddenly, this whole event was a lot less scary, and so much more exciting. They passed the amphitheatre where sword training was taking place, where they saw Clara thrashing her opponent with immense strength and grace. Justin’s jaw dropped slightly, but he was snapped out of the trance when Lee patted him on the shoulder as they moved on. They stopped at the archery range, where Lee told Justin to have a go, to see how natural his skills were. Lee coached him on how to stand, hold the bow, and draw an arrow without hurting himself. His first arrow was a bullseye. The two counsellors got extremely excited and applauded him. Lucille did too, but she definitely did not know what was happening. She was too busy fiddling with a spring. They had Justin shoot a few more arrows, all hitting the bullseye, before they moved on. As they walked to the forge, where Beckendorf said Lucille would likely spend a lot of time, the counsellors asked what brought them to camp. Justin explained the monster attack, adding on the details of what Mormo said, and how he dreamt of her when she was young. Lee explained the dreams were normal, and what she said was concerning, but she was dusted, so they should be fine for a while. However, when Justin explained how he killed Mormo, thrusting out his hand, and her writhing in pain, the older campers shared a concerned look.
They reached the forge, and Beckendorf turned his attention to Lucille, explaining what they did there. Justin interrupted, explaining that she was colour blind, and Beckendorf acknowledged this, reassuring the Peters siblings that he would do anything in his power to make her experience on the forge more accessible. That made Justin feel better.
“Hey Justin, why don’t we leave these two to investigate the forge?” Lee offered Lucille appeared extremely eager to explore, and Beckendorf seemed trustworthy and eager to introduce her to her siblings, she he hugged her goodbye and promised to see her later.
Lee beckoned for Justin to follow him. He explained that they needed too talked to Chiron, as how Justin defeated Mormos was not a normal Apollo power, and he needed an explanation. Justin was worried about that. Had Apollo made a mistake in claiming him? Was he actually the son of some other God?
Le and Justin appeared at the main cabin, called the Big House. They spoke to Chiron, who had hidden his horse half in a wheelchair, explaining the story of the monster attack in full. The centaur questioned Justin on his past, asking about any incidents involving his emotions and people getting sick. Justin explained the many unexplainable times someone had gotten a headache, or thrown up, or even fainted when they annoyed or upset him. Chiron became quiet and pondered this information for a moment.
“That explains why the titans want you.” Chiron brushed a nervous hand through his hair. He kind eyes turned serious as he stared into Justin’s soul. “You, my boy, are the son of Smintheus Apollo. You have inherited Apollo’s abilities of plague. Children like you only appear once every century. You, Justin Peters, are the Plague Bearer of the 21st Century.”
2 notes · View notes
propertyofwicked · 4 years
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Could you do an a-z of dating Tom Blake pls??
ty for the request, i hope this is ok x :)
a-z of dating tom blake
obviously, we’re going to pretend THAT scene doesn’t happen and he just ends up with a tiny surgery nd some stitches :)
warnings: slight sexual references but only like twice lol
a - argue
tom is STUBBORN. that boy will be so wrong yet will be adamant he is correct till physically proven otherwise. this was usually the start of arguments. you too are stubborn, but not to the extent of tom. any argument results in tom going for a walk around the town, to let out all of his pent up anger as he couldn’t bare to shout at you for something so petty. you’d sit in the living room silently, waiting for him to return, which gave you time to think about what to say. once he did come back, he’d sit on the sofa next to you, and take your hands in his, and you’d talk through the problem rationally. since the war, he would get angrier much quicker, the smallest things being able to send him over the edge, so he’d take the time to apologise, as would you, and he’d show you how much he loves you ;)
b - body (his favourite body part of yours)
thomas blake is an ass man. any time he can have his hands on your lower back, resting on your arse - he would. he loves to walk behind you, just to show his appreciation for your curves and whenever he’d stand next to you, his hand would be on your arse squeezing it playfully when nobody is looking. 
c - care (caring for each other when you’re sick)
tom likes to pretend he is tough and no illness can beat him, and because of this, he will work himself to the bone instead of resting. he’d wake up in the morning, his voice deeper than ever as a cough tickled his throat. as much as he tries to hide it, the moment you notice, he’s back in bed with a cup of tea on the bedside table. when you’re ill, however, tom takes the day off work and just lays in bed with you day, not caring if he got ill as well - as long as you were content. 
d - dates (what do you guys do?)
you and tom would have really basic dates, enjoying each other more than an expensive meal. often, in the summer months, you’d walk down to the river and have a picnic, or sometimes you’d lay down in his mother’s orchid, watching the petals fall around you. it doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you’re together. 
e - engagements (how he proposed) 
it would be just dropped into a conversation, nothing fancy and very unprepared in true thomas fashion. like you could just be laying in bed, or cooking dinner and he’d look at you and go “hey, should we get married” and very casually you’d just reply “yeah sure” before realising he was serious and falling into his arms to give him the biggest hug you could. it just so happened he had his grandmother’s ring in his possession so he just used that.
f - friends and family (do they like you/him?)
his family ADORE you. his brother likes you, as you were raised intelligent and could have a good conversation with him - you were also a prime babysitter for him and his wife. his mum loves to finally have a girl tom’s age around, as she had spent 30 years being in an all-male household other than herself. your dad was wary around him towards the start of your relationship, but he soon welcomed him into the family after tom had helped him fix a bookcase. your mum was glad to finally see you happy, glad you’d managed to be comfortably settled down from a young age. since you lived a while away from each other's families, your friends from home never really knew your partner.
g - gifts
you guys are not terribly poor but you’re also not the richest, so surprise presents were fairly rare. whenever tom went home to visit his family, he’d return with a cake baked specially from his mother. sometimes he’d return from work, hiding something behind his back, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face and after asking him what he was hiding, he’d produce flowers that he got on the cheap from the market on his way home. 
h - how you met
you worked as a nurse in the war, so when tom was carried in, blood pouring from his abdomen, it was your job to take care of him. something in you nagged at you to accompany him the furthest you could, which is how you ended up in a base hospital tending to this soldier. over the months he was in your care, you got to know each other well, and promised to keep in contact when you returned home. 
i - intimacy (how often are yall getting down)
thomas blake has the stamina of a KING. he is ready to go to town every night and every morning for as long as you can manage - and the look he gave you before was enough to give in almost every night. 
j - jealousy
tom gets jealous of the relationship between you and his brother. he felt as if he had also been in his shadow, the younger, less handsome brother. it was obvious when he got like this because he’d go quiet, unlike his usual joking self. you didn’t tend to get overly jealous, as you could tell tom was whipped for you and barely batted an eye at anyone else. 
k - kinks
tom has a lowkey breeding kink i reckon, not like 40 kids kinda kink, but he loves the idea of getting you pregnant and seeing you carry his children and raise them. having grown up in a loving family, he wants nothing more than to have one for himself. 
l - long distance
whilst you were both away at war, you tended to be in various areas of france. the only contact you had was letters, where he’d tell you about his day or some funny story he witnessed or overheard. you told him of the wounds you saw, as it was the only way you could really pass them through your mind so they didn’t haunt you forever. it was the best part of the week, receiving letters from tom and he felt the exact same when the post came by and a letter with his name in your handwriting was handed to him. 
m - moving in
you moved in together at the end of the war, in your correspondence, when the days got long and boring, the only thing you could talk about was the future - where you’d live, how the living room would be arranged. it was more optimistic that truthful but when the war ended and you met again, you both knew it was something you had to do. tom was so glad he could live with someone who had witnessed the same pain and distraught he had and you were so glad that you both had each other in the hard nights. 
n - nights out 
you’re not much of a party go-er yourself, much rather preferring to listen to the music on the record player. sometimes, you and tom would go out dancing with scho and his wife but it was fairly rare. 
o - open with each other
the mutual experiences of the war allowed you two to be so open with each other. if there was anything on your mind, something you couldn’t get off your chest, you knew that you could tell tom and even if he couldn’t get rid of it, he’d make it so much better. tom often had nightmares of the day he got injured and every time he woke up in fits of sweats, you would be there to listen to him and tell him how everything was going to be better. 
p - pda
you two aren’t over the top in public but often are reminded with a sly cough from will that you were in fact, in full view of everyone. tom can’t keep his hands of you most of the time, grabbing your arse at any possible chance he got. you prefer to be more cute with your affection, taking his hand when walking down the street or pecking his cheek randomly. 
q - questions (what you talk about late at night?)
as mentioned before, you guys normally talk about the war. it makes it so much easier to cope with the horrors that loom over you like a shadow. sharing the experience allowed you both to cope with your own thoughts a lot better.
r - reproduction (do you want kids?)
Y E S. tom wants a house full of miniature versions of him, and it is something he discusses with you often. you want whatever tom wants pretty much, and having a product of the love you shared was a dream of yours. 
s - surprising (what surprised you about him)
he’s very affectionate when he’s sad. rather than bottling up, tom knows how to talk about his problems really openly with you and he’s not afraid to show emotion. 
t - together (what you do together)
towards the start of your relationship, after the war, you two would go on cute dates in the forest or on the river bank almost weekly, but you now you guys prefer to stay home and make use of that bedroom ;)
u - under the influence (drunk vibes)
tom is even funnier when he’s drunk. he comes home from a night out with will and some other friends and just sits, staring at you. every 5 minutes or so he’d mumble something along the lines of “you’re gorgeous - do you have a boyfriend?”. it was cute to start with but by t eh fifth time, you're laying him down on the bed and trying to lul him to sleep.
v - vacations
tom likes to go to cornwall with you. it’s where he frequently went on holidays as a child, and he loves to take you to the places he visited in his youth. 
w - wedding
you guys have a small wedding, just in the church near your house. you couldn’t afford a massive wedding and you didn’t really want one. so you held the ceremony with your families and your closest friends and chose to spend the reception at your house, listening to music on the record player and having a roast dinner. 
x - xray (when he’s hurt)
obviously, you had cared from him in the war, but sometimes the scar on his stomach would cause him pain if he moved it in the wrong way. there wasn’t much you could do, but you would lay with him and comfort him, or bring him medicine with his food. 
y - you (a random headcanon) 
“tom have you seen my glasses anywhere?” you called out to the house, hoping and an extra set of eyes could help.
“no, sorry! where did you last see them?” he called back.
“i can’t remember. they were here one moment then the next they weren’t” you trailed off as tom made his way into the kitchen. he took one glance at you, then burst into laughter, leaving you standing there in confusion.
“what? what are you laughing at?”
“baby, have you checked the top of your head?”
“oh my god!” you said, realising they had been there the whole time, your face going a new shade of red in embarrassment.
“awh bless, you really do need glasses,” tom smiled coming over to you, taking you in his arms.  his lips pressed to your head in a quick peck before he walked back to where he had been sat before. 
z - zzzzzzzzzzzz’s (sleeping routine)
you’re usually in bed first, choosing to read a book before packing in for the night. tom would stay downstairs longer, reading the paper or going for a shower. but when he did come upstairs, he’d just stand in the door frame and gaze upon you, like he had never seen something so angelic. once he got into bed, you’d mark the page and close the book, leaning into his side and his arm moving to wrap around you. 
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belladonnabear · 5 years
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Dragon Tomura X Reader: Mine LEMON AU
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Scenario: This is sort of inspired by my old headcannon Tomura Shigaraki Turns Into A Child And His S/O Has To Take Care Of Him and I briefly mentioned the reader telling him a story about how a powerful dragon took down a powerful kingdom. So this is sort of based on that idea. Enjoy!
Childhood Abuse & Neglect are mentioned! As well as sexual content! You have been warned!
~~
You were a princess of your land. However, that title did not mean much when you had two older brothers and an older sister as well. Your eldest brother Prince Hadrian was supposed to inherit the throne when your father King Ulric died. Your other brother Prince Fendrel spent most of his days training as a knight to protect your people. He was even considered to become Captain of the Royal Guard, much to your father's disapproval. And your wicked sister Princess Dimia, was set to marry Prince Cedric of Vramor.
While you've never cared much for your family, your sister was always the worst. She almost pushed you down an empty well when you wanted to read and not play with her. The last time you played with her, she pulled on your hair because you weren't letting her win when playing tag. Your brothers never even tried to stop her when your back was against the well and you almost were about to fall into it. Luckily you kicked her in the stomach and managed to run away with your book. But your sister had blabbed to your father that you kicked her because she just offered for you two to play together. Forgetting to mention how she could have almost killed you. Even when you tried to explain it to him, he dismissed you because you were the youngest. After that, you were forbidden to leave your room for the next month and had all your books taken out of your room. You thought maybe once she grew older, this phase would change. You were wrong.  
She's thrown stones at you for not talking to her, let loose a trunk full of rats into your room when you were sleeping, pushed you off your horse so you fell into the river and has hit you on several occasions when no one is looking. The worst one of all was involving Prince Asher of Thizar. You and him were courting at the time. He was polite, charming and very humorous. It was a shame that your sister didn't like that you had any amount of happiness. So she ended up flirting and seducing the man you had come to love. You had walked by your sister's bedchamber's when you heard their moans. The door was slightly cracked and you saw how she was on top of him riding him and how he kept chanting praise for her. She even managed to look over her shoulder and flashed an evil smirk at you as the two of they came together loudly.
Your heart was crumbled and torn to pieces after that. The man you thought you would marry had ended up sleeping with your very own sister. You wept in frustration and pain that day. You didn't talk to Prince Asher after that and your sister was very smug after the affair. Most of your days since then have been you sneaking out of the castle to be alone. Your father didn't care about where you were going, your brother's might as well not know that you exist and your sister would probably like to see you being eaten by a bear.
You were in the forest on the outskirts of your kingdom. Tears dripping down as you recalled why you were so upset. Your father had made a dreadful announcement this morning. You were to be Prince Asher's wife this summer. This news enraged you but your elder sister seemed delighted as she praised that her younger sister would finally have a wonderful faithful husband. You couldn't hold your tongue. You told your father that you would never marry such a dishonest and heinous man who slept with your sister. Your father didn't listen and insisted that you would marry the prince. You tried convincing your brothers to support you but if it didn't concern them, they didn't care. Your sister smiled the whole time eating her breakfast happily.
With your trusty stallion Achard you fled the palace trying to hold down your sobs as best as you could. You never felt so unwanted and alone in all of your life. Not since disease took your mother's life when you were a young girl. It felt like hours you were huddled up by the oak tree as your horse grazed on the grass. Suddenly, you heard a yelp of pain as you flinched. A gray wolf with a gash on his back leg. He was limping and whining as you slowly approached the poor creature. You did have a soft spot for animals.
"You poor thing, let me help you..." you whispered calmly while approaching the wolf.
His eyes burned as he growled at you. An idea struck you though. In your bag you grabbed a roll of bread and slowly approached the animal. It sniffed he air and seemed interested in the food. You slowly leaned down and handed it the bread. It snatched it out of your hand and began tearing away at it. While the ravenous beast ate, you wiped the blood away gently from the wound with your shawl. Then grabbed some bandages from your bag and wrapped it around the wolf to stop the bleeding.
"There you go...it shouldn't be that bad. It'll heal in a few days." you murmured.
The wolf seemed to be much better as it began standing up. Then with a sniff of its tail it took off in another direction. You sighed in relief. At least the wolf would be fine.
"Well...aren't you the charitable one?" a voice spoke.
You looked around wildly as you heard a man's voice. It sent chills down your spine. You didn't have any knights by your side since your kingdom was peaceful and you preferred being alone. So who was watching you all the way out here? And where was he?
"Look above you human..."
With trembling hands you gasped in shock at what was above you. A slim man with pale skin and wrinkled around his eyes. His lips are chapped, a small mole on the right underneath, with visible scars on his right eye and under his lip. He has messy grayish-blue hair. But what stood out to you were the grayish-blue wings on his back. They weren't shaped like a birds, they looked like ones of a dragon. A dragon that can shapeshift into a human. He looked at you in delight at your shocked expression and then dropped down from his spot on the tree. He then flapped his wings and landed down safely. His red eyes beamed as he looked at you.
"W-Who are you? W-What are you?" you inquired.
The strange man chuckled. "My name is Tomura. You might have heard my name from travelers."
You have heard of his name before. He was a powerful dragon that had many other dragons at his command. They were known as the League of Draconian and were some of the most feared dragons in the world. Their leader was Tomura.
"What do you want with me?" you questioned.
"Such an inquisitive thing. Well my dear, I'm here because I want you to be my mate." Tomura stated.
Your eyes widened as your head spun in confusion. This fierce dragon wanted you to be his mate? Why? You didn't want to upset the destructive dragon in case he decided to kill you now.
"Why did you choose me to be your mate?" you asked.
"One of my spies has infiltrated your kingdom. They described to me a beautiful princess with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes that had a strong heart and had intelligence that no one could match. I desire such a mate, even if she is human. And I can tell from your dress alone that you are in fact that princess." he replied.
It was then that he took your hand in his own. You could feel his dry skin on your own smooth skin. He brought his lips to your hand to place a soft kiss on it. Then gazed at you with such ferocious passion.
"Darling princess, I promise to make you the happiest woman in your species. I'll praise you till my dying breath. Catch you when you fall. We'll be side by side forever. I'll be faithful to you and only you for eternity. Dragons do mate for life, unlike that degenerate prince from Thizar. I won't betray or hurt you. You're my everything. And you're all mine." Tomura promised.
Your heart started beating wildly. While you knew he could be reciting a false declaration of love, his eyes showed dedication for you. Something no one since your mother, ever showed to you. If he truly wanted to eat you, he would have done so. Instead, he desired your love and loyalty. Something you also desired as well.
"I accept your proposal Tomura." you whispered.
However, he heard it and swept you into his arms so that the two of you could kiss. His lips may have been chapped but the warmth from the kiss was enough to assure you that this was the right choice.
You two pulled away as Tomura took a couple of steps back. You then saw his body change. His muscles contracts and expanded. His mouth began to shift as his eyes began to become more narrow and full of red. Achard fled as he saw the change Tomura was becoming. His wings expanded and grew as scales began surfacing on his skin. A deep snarl erupted that reminded you of an animal.
Finally, you saw Tomura as a dragon. His entire body matched his wings as crimson eyes narrowed at you. He was bigger than the oak trees you two were around. He even managed to knock one over with his long tail. Then you saw how his gigantic head lean down towards you. Carefully with his teeth, he picked you up by your dress and settled you on his back. You grasped onto one of his spines and felt your heart race tremendously when his wings unfurled.
And with one huge flap, they began to take off. You held on tightly as the adrenaline and wind kicked in. With a rather victorious roar, Tomura took off in the opposite direction of where you came from. However, you couldn't' be happier to escape your dreadful life. Now you would never have to see your sisters face ever again. You wouldn't have to hear about how your father excused her terrible behavior. Your brothers wouldn't just sit there in silence as you were left to be tormented. You now had some semblance of freedom.
~~
You now lived in the Crystal Mountains alongside Tomura and is League of Draconian. While it took sometime getting used to, you loved the life you now lived with the other dragons. It turns out the spy Tomura mentioned was your former maid Toga. She had been keeping an eye on the royal family since Tomura wanted to purge the kingdom for all its riches and used Toga as a spy to learn everything.
She kept ranting to Tomura about a nice sweet younger princess who kept to herself. That was when Tomura took an interest in you and wanted you as his mate. To which Dabi, teased him for going soft on a human.
But Tomura by no means was soft around other humans. As you and the League were around the campfire, Tomura explained what he had just done to your kingdom. He and the rest of the League had invaded your kingdom and demanded for furs, gold, food, jewelry and lavish dresses from the king. The king begged the dragon for him to take Princess Dimia instead. Your sister wept and hurled insults at your father for trying to sacrifice his own daughter to a dragon. Your brothers said nothing, much to your sisters distress. Tomura was disgusted by the king and already knew about the harsh abuse your sister put you through. So he let Toga have his fun torturing your sister. After all, the older princess was not as kind to her former maid like you were. Toga bit her with her jagged teeth, scratched her body and stepped on the fragile princess. This went on for an hour until your sister was eaten alive by the young female dragon. Your father was burned to a crisp by Tomura, he decayed into pieces.
The village was set ablaze by the dragons as they came back with many goods from your kingdom. Your brothers fled, no longer having a kingdom to rule or an army to command. You however couldn't find it in yourself to feel sorry for your father or sister’s death. They didn't deserve it. But your sister's abuse and your father’s negligence to not trying to help you, lead you to not care about the fate they suffered. Besides, you had a new family now.
Toga was a very small but energetic dragon who was also looking for a human mate as well. She was like the little sister you never had. Dabi might have had an nonchalant attitude but he wasn't uncaring like your older brothers were. He showed his ways of caring like bringing a wicker basket full of strawberries and claiming some farmer just left these and that you could have them. But you could tell he was looking out for you. Twice was looking out for you in many ways. He always wanted to make sure that you had enough room in the cave and he even taught you how to set up traps to catch animals to eat. Compress was a gentleman, despite eating meat off the brittle bone. He helped pick out some dresses that he thought would suit your complexion and skin tone. Spinner was shy but he opened up to you more. You helped him understand more about humans, since even in his human form he had green scales. So he never really got a chance to interact with them.
Tomura was a loving husband despite his dragon nature. While he did have his grumpy moods, he made accommodations to better suit your needs. Even going so far as to get you an official wedding ring to show that you were his and no one else's. He allowed you to go out of the cave but to never wander too far without someone to accompany you. He was just worried that you would get lost, hurt yourself or someone would try to take you away.
While he wasn't used to human ways, he did slowly learn about etiquette. He didn't know how to use a fork or spoon before. But thanks to you, he knew table manners to avoid looking like a slob in front of you. He even took an interest in reading alongside you. Which lead to many peaceful yet loving moments together.
One day, it was a hot summer day as you could feel the humidity rising steadily. You wanted to go out and not be trapped in the mountain all day. You slowly stretched from your bed of furs as you looked at the sparkling crystals above you. The ones that shined so beautifully like a chandelier. Beside you was your husband Tomura sleeping next to you. While you weren't married by law, being his mate made you his partner for life. So to you, he was your husband.
You brushed pieces of his hair covering his eyes and kissed his sleepy face. He slowly began to wake up stretching as well. His wings flapped a few times as they then began to pull you close to him. Tomura leaned into to give you a deep kiss as well.
"Morning princess..." he whispered.
"Good morning my love. Can we go out and find somewhere nice to swim? The weather is perfect." you requested.
Tomura slowly nodded as he leaned over the bed where the leftover strawberries were from Dabi's raid. He grabbed one and placed it near your mouth.
"Eat first."
Tomura fed you as he watched you with deep interest. He hasn't been around many humans, so he was curious to know everything about you. From your deepest fears to your little mannerisms. He took pride in being a dutiful husband to you.
The two of you then proceeded to get dressed. You wore a long white blouse with a long skirt. While Tomura wore a dark tunic to match with his breeches. He had much more regal clothes  but when he was with you, he tended to dress much more relaxed. You two walked out of your corner of the cave hand in hand. Toga was skipping about looking at the multiple dresses she owned.
"Oooh! (Nickname)! I found such a cute human boy with green hair and sparkly eyes! I'm going to try and talk to him today! Wish me luck!" she exclaimed while picking a yellow dress and leaving the area.
"So where are you two heading off?" Dabi eyed.
"We'll be out for awhile. Keep an eye around things here while we're gone." Tomura ordered.
"Sure. Just don't get too carried away lovebirds." Dabi teased.
You blushed at Dabi's remark while Tomura rolled his eyes. You two hadn't exactly have had sex yet. He's been intimate with you, ranging from heated kisses to groping your body. But never actually going all the way with it. Although, this might be a good opportunity to do so. You two would be alone and wouldn't have to worry about prying eyes.
The two of you were outside as Tomura handed you his clothes. You tried not to pry at his nude appearance but you had no such control when it came to your husband. His lean body with muscles and strong arms were a sight to behold for any woman. Though you did look away when he came to take off his pants out of some sort of modesty. That's when you saw him turn into his dragon form.
Large scales began forming around his body. His hands changed to that of talons and scaly feet. His teeth grew to the size of maple trees. His whole body extended and grew as his wings began to grow during the shift. He even had a tail that swished around to help keep his balance. Tomura suddenly bowed his head down to you. A sign that he wanted you to hop on and hold on. You gripped the horn on his head as his nostrils flared as his wings extended. Then he took off with a burst of speed.
The wind blew past you as Tomura soared up high to where the clouds were. You always loved flying with him. Even when he first took you off, you loved the feeling of flying in the air. His wings spread out as you could see the blue sky all around you. His scales were pretty too.
"You know Tomura, you're quite handsome as a human. But I do love your dragon form as well. You look quite majestic in this form!" you praised.
Tomura snorted at you but you could tell he loved your compliment deep down. You knew life as a dragon was probably tough for him when he was little. But you swore you would make up for all the compliments he should have received when he was younger.
He eventually landed down onto a patch of grass as you saw a spring with roaring water flowing down. You hopped off Tomura and placed his clothes on a tree while he shifted back to his human form. Sticking your hand down, you felt the gentle cool water under your finger tips. It made you want to take a dip more than before.
You quickly shed your clothes and hopped into the spring water. Unbothered by Tomura's piercing stare at your nude form. The water felt so relaxing to be in on this humid day. Tomura couldn't stop staring at your peaceful face. You were so beautiful to him. He couldn't believe you accepted his initial proposal. He thought he would have to kidnap you to get you to stay with him. But you stayed with him. You never tried to sneak out to leave or tried to get help. You were comfortable enough to stay with him.
It made his heart flutter in his chest. This has to be what love is. This was more than what he felt before. He was genuinely happy to be with you. In that moment, Tomura smiled brightly. He was very happy.
He dived into the water and emerged to be at your side. You stood up next to him, exposing your naked chest. He gulped as he stared at your sublime body. Not a single trace of you, did Tomura hate. He wanted to touch all of you. Claim all of you until you were undoubtedly his in everyway.
His arms wrapped around your waist slowly, as yours wrapped around his neck. Your naked bodies touching each other. You could feel Tomura's erect cock and...there was another one. After this discovery, you could just feel you were getting wet down below. And it had nothing to do with the spring water.
His wings spread out so you could only gaze at him. Like nothing else mattered in this moment, expect for him.
"Do you want me?" he asked.
"Yes." you murmured.
 "Are you mine?" he leaned forward more.
"Yes!" you agreed.
His lips slammed onto yours as you two began devouring each other's lips. Warm yet persistent kisses touched your body as you gave into the dragon. A whine escaped your throat as you felt his sharp fangs nip at your body. Hickies were planted along your neck and collarbone.
"Mine! You're mine!" he growled.
You thoroughly enjoying the calloused hands of your lover as he urgently rubbed your body, stopping to squeeze at the flesh of your waist before moving his way up to your chest. His hands rubbing your breasts as he began sucking on your left nipple. While toying with the other one. His thumb brushed against it as you let out a moan. He then moved his mouth to the other one as he began sucking on your left breast. The little whines erupting from your mouth made Tomura ache and he wanted to claim more of you.
His mouth pulled away from your chest and began latching onto your neck to suck and bite. One of his hands moved to grope your ass lovingly. His other hand began to slide down the expanse of your abdomen, palming your core. A deep sigh left your lips as he did this. Tomura's slick fingers sliding up and down your wet folds teasingly. He let out a low laugh.
"Do you want me beloved? Do you want me to touch you?"
You nodded as another moan escaped your mouth. Tomura slid a single finger inside you, moving it back and forth slowly. You began bucking your hips desperately as he moved you the rocky wall of the spring for you to lean back against. He was roughly fingering you into bliss, groaning in desire as he released his fingers from your heat. Catching your lips once again, his needy tongue ventured out to find its way into your awaiting mouth all too eager. You wrapped your legs around his waist as his wings spread out to shield you two from the world around you.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"I want you Tomura!" you pleaded.
"You want me to fuck you on both of my cocks? Is this how you want me to fuck you? Are you going to be a good princess and take both at once?" Tomura questioned as he began roughly humping against your core.
"Yes! I want both of them! Please fuck me with both of them at once! I need it!"
He grinned maniacally at your screams. He slowly begin to insert the first one into your cunt. Causing your legs to wrap around his waist tightly.
"M-More!" you gasped.
Tomura loved seeing you squirm for him. To see just how desperate you were to take all of him. Meanwhile you couldn't comprehend how good he felt pressed inside you. Then he wrapped his hand around his second one and slowly began to insert the other one in as well. Causing you to shake and moan loudly. Desperately rocking against his second dick as to entice him. Which it did. In one quick thrust your grinding hips were met with his pelvic bone.
"Ah!!"
Your heated gaze met with Tomura's as you saw his lustful expression directed at you. He then began to thrust, fast, but he had returned to entering you only halfway with both cocks. The sounds coming from both of you were already pushing him not just cum inside of you right now. He wanted this to feel good for both of you. He then started pulling all the way out, then he paused, only to slam back in with a brutal force. You shrieked as he continued pounding into you. During his violent thrusting, you vaguely noted the vicious snarls and growls emanating from your husband.
"Faster! H-Ah-Harder!" you whined.
Tomura growled at his mate, his hips snapping faster than ever before. He kept jolting his hips forward and your cries of ecstasy filled the spring. His wings were flapping rapidly as he kept filling you up with both cocks. You were stretched out beyond all conceivable belief. Tomura let his feral side run wild as his massive cocks tore through your walls. Your orgasm shook you through your entire body as you called out your lover’s name. As you came on his twitching shafts, Tomura spilled his seed into your tight womb. Tomura’s seed kept spilling into you as the two of you kissed each other lovingly. 
“I’m all yours Tomura.”
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Text
Limerence [M] ︳06
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Pairing: Zuko x OC
Genre: Romance, mainly fluff with future smut, and if you squint hard enough - you’ll find some angst.
Rating: SFW
Words: 4500+
Notes: Enjoy <3
Masterlist ︳05 ︳07
❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤
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Limerence: (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person.
The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventure, and drama.
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La Douleur Exquise
(French/n.) The heart-wrenching pain of wanting the affection of someone unattainable.
~ Ying Yue Jiang ~
           Little flakes of snow continued to fall and stick itself to the outside of my windows. A small sigh left my lips as I cradled my face in my hands, leaning against my vanity and continued to stare aimlessly at the falling snow. Suki and Toph went, using the excuse that they had to get ready for the day, but most likely since they knew I needed some space; to breath, to think. The truth was, as upset as I was at Katara, deep down I knew she had a point. Yet, I couldn't let myself sink in the truths of her statements.
            It hurt — a lot. I huffed and covered my face completely. It was stupid to be this upset, I had just met Zuko, yet the thought of this…whatever this was, not being able to turn into something more because of my bending hurt. It was one thing for us not to be together because some asshole said so, but it's another thing when you are the reason why a relationship couldn't work. Even if the relationship never does work out, I prefer to let it naturally dissipate rather than never to try at all.
            I bite my lips anxiously, but maybe Katara is wrong? Why would Zuko continue flirting with me, he knows I can bend. Suki even said it herself, Zuko is not one to play around with people’s feelings. A heavy sigh erupted once again; I'm going to go insane if I keep thinking about this. I was partially thankful for the loud knock on my door that stopped my endless, self-defeating thoughts from going too far. “Come in,” I said softly, disappointed that the fact I was upset was evident in my voice.
            The door opened, and to my surprise, Aang had a soft smile on his face as he stepped in. He seemed surprised to see me so visibly defeated, did Katara not tell him anything about our argument? “Did Katara not come by?” Aang asked. I crossed my arms and huffed, “Trust me, she came by.” Aang looked at me puzzled, “Did she not tell you about our…disagreement?” I asked hesitantly, not wanting to get more people involved. Aang frowned and nodded his head, “She did, but she told me she was on her way to apologize to you.” This time I was shocked.
            “She was going to apologize?”
            “She was, something must have popped up,” Aang said, a soft smile reappearing upon his face. I played with my fingers, “I have to apologize too.” I said softly. The fact is, as hurt as I was, it was the truth. And I was not innocent in any means since I let the conversation escalate. Aang chuckled and walked over to me, “You know the way Katara is. Although she means well, sometimes she can come off a bit…rough. But you know she cares about you, a lot. That’s the only reason why she got upset.” I looked up at Aang and saw him kneel across from me, “Besides that, I can tell you right now that you have my full support.” I titled my head to the side, confused. Support?
            “What do you mean,” I asked. Aang laughed, “You and Zuko. You two do seem to click. He needs someone like you, someone who can soften him up. It has been a while since I have seen him so...content.” I blushed at Aang. He seemed to notice because he gave me a cheeky smile and a thumbs up. This time I couldn't help but laugh softly at Aang. There was something about Aang, he always managed to defuse situations and brought the spark back in such a gloomy case. Katara was lucky to have a man like him, but could one expect less from the Avatar?
            “But, in all seriousness. In a few days, Zuko has to head back to the Fire Nation. What are you going to do? Would you be willing to go with him?” He questioned. I pouted as I looked outside, gazing at the falling snow. The truth was, as much as I wanted to travel, the sight of snow and cold is something I have become so accustomed too. Plus, all of my responsibilities, who would look after them? On the other hand, it would be wonderful to travel… After a few seconds of deep thought, I looked at Aang and smiled, “Remember that promise you made me make?” I asked.
            Aang grinned, “Next time a chance to travel pops up; you take it,”
            I smiled and nodded my head, “I think I would go…it would be scary but, I can’t exactly make him stay here,” I said with a giggle. Aang laughed and nodded, “You have a point.” He stood up with a huff as he rubbed his knees, clearly sore from kneeling in front of me for a bit. “Well, lunch is served, as I was ordered by Toph to call you.” I nodded my head and stood up, “Let me clean up quick and I'll be there.”
            Aang nodded, but before he walked out the door, I could hear him tauntingly shout, “Zuko is already there.” I blushed as I narrowed my eyes at him, with hands on my hips. Aang laughed and closed the door shut, but I could still hear him laughing down the hallway. Gosh, when will the teasing stop? I slapped my cheeks; blushing doesn’t help… I rushed to check my appearance in the mirror before I dashed to the dining room. Although I hated to admit it, the fact that Zuko was already there may have added to my eagerness to rush.
            Everyone was already seated at the table, Suki lecturing Sokka to wait before devouring into the food. While Toph teased Sokka by waving a piece of meat, meat she probably stole from the kitchen and began nibbling on it. Aang and Zuko laughed, engaged in a conversation of their own. I noticed there were three empty seats. One beside Aang, clearly for Katara, another one at the head of the table, probably for Dad but he is busy attending some meetings and won’t be joining us, and lastly a seat beside Zuko.
            With a deep breath, I walked into the dining room, going completely unnoticed until I started pulling the seat back beside Zuko. Sokka, Suki, and Toph smiled at me as I sat down at the table. “Good afternoon, I heard you slept in quite a bit today,” Zuko said with a smirk. I shrugged my shoulders, “Something came up last night, kept me up.” I said confidently, while I gently placed my hands on my lap. Zuko grinned, enjoying that I was engaging in his pointless banter. He placed an arm around my chair, just barely grazing my shoulders, with his other arm he grabbed his cup and took a sip, “Hmm, must have been important if you had to stay up all night.”
            I grabbed the glass that was placed in front of myself, and took a sip as well, “It was, but if I had to stay up all night again, I would do it, even if it was for different reasons this time.” I said. This time Zuko looked at me shocked, knowing quite well what I was trying to hint at. I couldn't help but grin to myself, proud that for the first time I managed to make Zuko flustered. Two can play this game, Sir. Zuko placed his cup down, and before he could say anything else Katara walked into the dining room, well, more like stomped inside.
            My eyes widen, and I began to question whether Katara was indeed a Waterbender given that there were literal flames surrounding her. She looked upset, no, enraged. I gave Aang a look, who looked at me just as confused, I thought she was going to apologize, she looks like she is going to kill. Even Toph looked uneased, as she could probably feel her stomping on the ground as she briskly sat and gripped her tableware tightly.
            Zuko removed his arm from my chair, whether he withdrew his arm intentionally, I had no clue, but I was glad since it looked as if Katara was about to explode. Suki eyed me carefully, and I looked at her just as panicked. The look in her eyes was the same emotion that she held last night during our dinner, so much for going to apologize… Aang coughed awkwardly, “Now that everyone is here, I guess we can eat.” I knew the atmosphere was tense as even Sokka hesitantly reached over to grab the food placed in the center.
            Eventually, we all began serving ourselves, although we all made a conscious effort not to reach for the same foods Katara was grabbing. Not once during lunch did Katara talk, but thankfully, despite her evident anger, everyone resumed conversing. “So, you are going to miss the cold when you go back?” Sokka asked with a mouth full of food. Zuko placed down his cup and smiled, “More like the snow. It gets cold, but not enough to snow.” I nodded my head, interested in the Fire Nation.
            It was strange to think that my father once lived in the same place Zuko rulers over. I remember him complaining about how hot it was during the summer, yet, whenever the weather got the slightest bit chilly in the Earth Nation, he would whine to my mother how he wished to feel the heat of summer from the Fire Nation again. “How hot can it get at the Fire Nation?” I asked. Zuko groaned, “Too hot. There was a point I was convinced that Boiling Rock is cooler than the kingdom.” Suki shivered, clearly remember how hot it was at Boiling Rock.
            I, on the other hand, smiled, secretly wanting to experience such warmth without standing in front of a fireplace with a dozen blankets on top. I want to see where Dad grew up. Zuko seemed to notice me smiling because he laughed, “Someone here likes the heat.” I giggled and nodded, “Try living in the cold for three years and then ask yourself the same question.” Zuko chuckled before wiping his face with a napkin. “Speaking about the Fire Nation, I have a question for you…” Everyone’s ears seemed to perk up, including mine.
            I placed my utensils down and looked over at Zuko. He seemed relaxed, in fact, too comfortable. Zuko looked over at me, with a thoughtful expression on his face, causing me to feel nervous, what is he going to ask me? He gently placed his hands on his lap, before speaking, “As everyone knows, my vacation is quickly coming to an end, and some of us will be heading back to the Fire Nation, with myself, to start the process of Republic City. Which leads me to my next question, how would you feel coming to the Fire Nation with me, Ying Yue?”
            At that instant, I could feel my eyes widen and my mouth shameless drop. Is Zuko asking me to go back home with him? I looked over at Aang, is that why he asked me about leaving earlier? But based off the look on his face, Aang seemed just as shocked as I was. In fact, everyone looked taken aback at Zuko’s proposal. This was not something he mentioned to them - clearly. “You don’t have to stay at the Fire Nation forever, just for a visit, unless you wish to stay…” Zuko quickly added, reading the surprise on my face.
            But the truth was I did not need any time to think it over. Something in me snapped, and within seconds I clapped my hands together and shifted in my chair excitedly, “I would love to go with you!” I beamed. Zuko looked taken aback by my evident enthusiasm, but a large smile found it’s a way to Zuko lips and there was a small twinkle in his eyes. All the self-doubt that filled my mind washed away; this was it. He likes me; he has to, why would he ask me this? “Really?” He inquired, and I shook my head, “Of course, I would love to.”
            “That means you get to travel with us!” Aang sang as he dropped his utensils down and gleefully cheered. Aang looked ecstatic that Zuko asked and I agreed, and it was then I noticed that everyone at the table was happy. Everyone soon began talking over one another, discussing how much fun I'll have. Zuko chuckled and told me about all of the beautiful places he will bring me to. Suki gushed about the dresses I can finally buy, while Sokka ranted about how good the food was with all the different spices they had. The smile on my face grew, I was finally going to travel and experience new things and do stuff that I have only dreamed.
            However, the excitement that rang through the dining hall was cut short by a harsh cough. Everyone stopped talking, and it felt like time itself came to a standstill. The smiles from everyone’s faces dropped and was instead replaced with wide eyes and shock, complete and utter shock. For the first time during this whole meal Katara spoke, and her words felt like daggers, “How will your fiancé, Mai, feel with you bringing a Waterbender back from your trip Zuko?”
            The smile on my face dropped, and I could feel my blood run cold, fiancé? Mai? I turned to Zuko sharply, and I noticed that he looked just as staggered as I was, did he forget he was engaged or something? “Fiancé? Zuko, you’re engaged to Mai?” Suki questioned, obviously the only one in the room who managed to find their voice. Zuko shook his head, looking undeniably pale, “What, no, well yes, but- fuck- wait. You’re a Waterbender?” Zuko stumbled with his words before he turned to face me.
            I looked back at him, my face mimicking his face of pure shock. It took me a while to sink in that he was speaking to me, asking me if I was a Waterbender. “Of course I'm a Waterbender, what did you think I was? A Cabbage-bender?” I responded, unsure of whether to be upset or cry. Zuko looked at me completely baffled, like what I had told him was unexpected. “Why would you lie about that?” Zuko asked a sense of betrayal laced along with his words.
            My eyes widen as I slammed my hands against the table, pushing myself off my chair and stood, “Lie? Lie!? What in the world made you think once I was something else!?” I shouted. Zuko frowned and stood up just as angrily and waved his hands, “Hello! Golden eyes, black hair, fair skin: you kind of scream Firebender!”
            My hands tightened into fists, “Is that the only reason why you were interested in me? Because you thought I was a Firebender?” I yelled back. Zuko frowned as he shook his head, “It would have been nice to know!”
            “Nice to know? You aren’t one to speak Fire Lord Zuko, as you forget to mention that you are engaged!” I shouted. I could faintly hear him growl under his breath as he looked beyond ticked off, “It’s not like that.”
            I rolled my eyes, “Not like that? Are you, or are you not, engaged with Mai?”
            “Yes, but-”
            The moment he said yes it felt like something inside me broke. I felt my strength disappear as my arms dropped to my sides. I knew the look of hurt blatantly showed on my face, “And to think…that I liked you…that I was willing to leave everything just for you.” I barely whispered. Zuko looked at me, suddenly no longer angry but full of disappointment. I couldn't tell if he disappointed in himself or me, but I could have cared less at that moment.
            “You like me?” Zuko asked as if news of my affection came out of nowhere. I frowned, completely annoyed at his ignorance, “Why do you think I would take you to the market, bake cookies, go out in the middle of the night to look at the Southern lights!? For fun? Because I enjoy freezing my ass off? I-I feel like a complete idiot to think that you, of all people, would like me back!”
            I bite my lip, forcing myself to not cry, especially not in front of him. Zuko seemed at a loss of words, and I huffed angrily at his inability to say something, “Forget this, forget everything. I wish I never met you. I wish you went somewhere else to vacation!” I cried out, and without another second to pass, I bolted out the door. I could hear Zuko push the chairs as he ran after me. I groaned in annoyance; he had some nerve to chase after me after everything that had happened, “Ying Yue, wait-!” he shouted.
            His cries for me to stop went ignored, as I ran down the hallway. When I turned the last corner, I could finally let out a breath of relief to find myself at the main entrance. I was eager to leave, and forget about everything, but I could see Kima and Lia, walking together. They were laughing about something, but Lia was the first to notice my visibly upset posture. Kima spotted Lia’s shocked expression and looked upwards to see me. “My Lady…” She started, concern and confusion written all over her face.
            “Ying Yue, please wait!” I heard Zuko shout. I turned around sharply, and I could see him turn the corner. “Go away! I don’t need to hear anything else from you. I was a fool, a complete and utter fool.” I yelled back; my back turned against the two flustered maids. Zuko glared at me but continued to run down the hallway. I huffed, not realizing just how stubborn Zuko could be. “And just in case you forget that I'm a Waterbender, here!” I shouted. I honestly did not what possessed me, as it had been ages since I have last Waterbend, yet something came over me. Anger? Hurt? Pain? Maybe a mixture of them all.
            In a swift motion, I swung my hands in the direction of the fountain that decorated the main entrance. The water from the fountain rose instantly, as I flung my arms forward and made my hands into fists. The water quickly shifted into shape, forming a large wall that engulfed the entrance of the hallway. Just as soon as the water rose, the water began to freeze. I could see Zuko’s eyes widen as he came to an abrupt stop, staring at the wall of ice blocking him.
            I turned on my heel and dashed to the door, “My Lady, what happened?!” Kima shouted as she and Lia looked desperately between Zuko and me. I shoved past them, “Fire Lord Zuko happened!” I shouted before I pushed the entrance doors open and ran out. I could hear the staff gasping from behind, although I was unsure if it was at the screaming between me and Zuko, the random block of ice that now blocked the hallway, or maybe both. To think that I was almost the other woman!
            The snow crushed underneath my slippers, and I knew it was stupid to run outside, especially in this cold. I was wearing nothing but a thin silk kimono, leaving my cloak inside. But the cold snow falling against my skin helped reduce my anger, stripping myself to my barest of emotion: hurt. People outside looked confused at seeing me dashing through the streets, probably thinking that I had lost my mind to wonder out like this in the cold.
            It took me a few moments of deep breathing to realize where I was going. I knew it was silly to go to her, she had a cold, which was the only reason why she did not visit that stupid Fire Lord Zuko when he arrived. Yet, before I knew it, I found myself running desperately towards her home. Even threw the snowfall, I could spot the smoke erupting from the chimney and the lights that were lit inside. I ran towards the front door eagerly and was ready to knock loudly. But before my hand could make contact with the wood, the door slowly opened, and the smell of baked goods and wood burning engulfed me.
            My eyes widen in surprise as she stood there. A smile painted her face, highlighting her wrinkles as she wore a thick woolly blanket over her shoulders, “Gran-Gran…” I managed to whimper out. Gran-Gran outstretched her arms, and within moments I dashed into her hold. She hugged me tightly and began to rub my back gently, her even breathing soothing me instantly. It was then I noticed that tears were falling, gosh how long was I crying for?
            “How did you know?” I cried out. Gran-Gran smiled sadly at me, before wiping away my falling tears, “A grandmother always knows.”
~ Fire Lord Zuko ~
            I stood there like a fool, completely in awe at the wall of ice that prevented me from reaching Ying Yue. It was unbelievable at how fast she did it, not ever have I seen Katara bend water to ice that fast, and she was a Mater Waterbender. The speed and skill Ying Yue did it at left me dumbfounded. It was not until I heard Ying Yue yell once again and the front door slamming shut behind her that I came back to my senses, I could admire her skills another time.
            Without thinking twice, I stepped back, and then ran towards the wall, building up the momentum in my fist which was wrapped in fire. I had to break this wall; I had to explain. But to my sheer surprise, the ball of fire that I threw against the wall did absolutely nothing. The wall of ice was thin, paper thin, given that she only used whatever water was in the fountain. But no matter how thin the ice, it did not crack at all, not even melt. I walked backward, in sheer confusion, how. How is that possible?
            “Zuko!” I turned around to see Aang and Sokka running towards me, their faces filled with worry. Suki followed behind with Toph, “Where is she?” Sokka shouted at me concerned. I shook my head and looked back at the wall of ice; it was too late. By now she could have ran anywhere. A hand grasped my shoulder, “Move back.” Aang instructed, and I listened. He lifted his hands and slowly the ice began to melt and form back into water. “The fountain,” I said, and Aang nodded, getting the hint.
            I could hear Sokka stumble behind me, “Zuko, I'm sorry.” He began. I turned around and shook my head. It was pointless. As angry as I was, it was not going to solve anything. What was done, was done, and now I have to fix it. Fuck, I sound like Uncle Iroh. “You did nothing wrong.” I started, but Sokka shook his head, “I was going to tell Katara, but she didn’t let me finish. If I had known-”
            “It's fine, I was going to tell everyone, but I didn’t think…”
            “It would be like that?” Aang finished. He turned around, his face completely apologetic towards me, “Sokka explained when we ran here. I bet if you explain it to Yue, she will-”
            “Understand? Did you see the look on her face? I did that. I hurt her when I promised Sokka not even an hour ago that I would never hurt her.” I groaned out frustrated. Suki and Toph stumbled into us, both of them anxious. “I could feel her bend from all the way over there. Are you hurt?” Toph asked. I let out a breath and angrily ran my hands through my hair, “Physically, no.”
            I closed my eyes and found myself crouching down. Why is nothing in my life simple? Smile Zuko, it's the key to unlocking people’s hearts, Zuko. Well, I unlocked more than just people’s hearts! It was faint steps that echoed down the hallway that caused me to look upwards, seeing Katara looking devasted. “I'm so sorry, Zuko. I was trying to protect Yue; I didn’t know how you two would date, start a life together with you being Fire Lord. It was stupid of me, you guys aren’t even dating and if I had known, if I had let Sokka finish-”
            “Katara, I would have done anything to protect her, to make sure she was safe.” I started as I stood up. Katara shook her head, clearly disappointed in herself. Suki sighed heavily and went over to Katara to comfort her. “The fact is that we all fucked up. Me,” and I swiftly pointed at Katara, “You. But I have to fix it. I'm not going to let her go, not like this. Waterbender or not, I like her. And she will be well respected as my friend, girlfriend, wife, or whatever we end up becoming, at the Fire Nation.”
            “But Zuko, for her to earn respect, to be able to date you…” Toph started, well aware of the difficulties that I had ahead of me. I shook my head, “I know it won’t be easy, but that’s not anybody's decision but for her and me to make.” Aang stepped up and placed his hand on my shoulder, “I think I know where she could have gone. I can go talk to her, try to calm her.” I looked up Aang and gave him a weak smile. “Thanks, but I think she needs space. I have something to do before I apologize to her anyway.”
            Aang looked at me confused, as well as everybody else. “What are you going to do?” Sokka asked. I let out a long sigh and rubbed my temples, “The truth is that her being a Waterbender does complicate things, a lot. And Ying Yue probably knows that too. If I'm going to ask for her forgiveness, I'm not going to go empty-handed. I'm going to show her I'm serious about her, about us.” Everyone looked up at me, still puzzled. “But what are you going to give to her,” Sokka asked once again.
            I smiled, “You’ll see.”
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Copyright © 2019 Mystic-Kitten, inc. all rights reserved. No reposting, modifying, or translations of any kind allowed. Thank you for your cooperation.
Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.
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gracelight87 · 5 years
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Sins I Can’t Mention
Happy Jonerys Week everyone! Here is my Day 1 contribution. 
Sins I Can’t Mention - A collection of post-war Jonerys drabbles. 
Read on Ao3. 
***
Rhaella and Robb Targaryen were the spitting images of their parents. Rhaella looked every bit a Targaryen with her thick, silver-blonde hair and violet eyes. It sometimes gave Jon pause to look at her, his eyes tricking him into seeing a childlike version of his wife. Robb inherited the Stark traits of black hair and grey eyes. Daenerys could only differentiate between Robb and his father when they were standing facing her, otherwise it was like her husband had a twin.
The children had been born at Dragonstone not too long after the end of the Great War. As luck would have it, a brood of dragons were hatched soon after Robb’s seventh nameday. Jon and Daenerys spoke extensively in their bedchambers about the possibility of having their children become dragon riders just like them. Daenerys, ever the Targaryen, argued strongly for her children to bond with the dragons and ride them. Jon, on the other hand, returned that they had no reason to ride the dragons as Westeros was experiencing a period of peace like none before.
Eventually, Daenerys won out; Jon had trouble resisting her when she batted her eyes and showed him just how much fun riding a dragon could be.
Rhaella bonded with the dragon she named Vhagar right away. After all, she lived for her Aunt Arya’s visits that often brought hushed bedtime stories about the warrior Queen Visenya and her dragon. Robb had a little more hesitation when approaching the dragons, however. He finally decided on the name Snowfyre when he learned of his father’s original bastard status.
As the dragons grew bigger and stronger, so did Jon’s apprehension. Daenerys had every confidence that her children would succeed, but Jon knew how volatile dragons could be. He still got a terrified feeling in the pit of his stomach when he rode Rhaegal, and it had been over ten years since his first mount.
The day finally came for Rhaella and Robb to attempt to ride their dragons. Daenerys had been instructing them for weeks on how to ride, and as children they had taken turns riding on Drogon and Rhaegal with their parents. The children had taught their dragons the same Valyrian commands that their mother had taught her dragons before, so Jon knew at the very least that the dragons would listen to his children.
“Remember, it’s probably going to be uncomfortable at first, but the feeling of flying is like none other in the world.” Daenerys smiled at their children as she quickly re-fastened Rhaella’s coat. “Your father and I will be in the air with you the whole time. Shout if you have any problems,” she said with a wry smile, no doubt remembering what she had said to Jon the first time he rode Rhaegal.
Jon mounted his dragon with practiced ease; the awkward positioning of his legs had become second nature at this point. The plan was for Daenerys to fly first and for Jon to bring up the rear so he could keep an eye on them from behind.
He watched his children approach their dragons with confidence, holding their hands out to touch their snouts affectionately. Daenerys smiled encouragingly at them as she mounted Drogon. Rhaella stuck her chin out confidently and slowly made her way to Vhagar’s side. The dragon sat low to the ground as if in preparation for what was about to happen. The breath caught in Jon’s throat as he watched his daughter climb onto Vhagar’s back. Seeing how effortless she made it look reminded him of how fascinated he was when he first saw Dany atop Drogon.
Rhaella was sporting a huge grin by the time she mounted her dragon. Robb, on the other hand, had yet to make a move towards Snowfyre’s wing. He looked back at Jon with furrowed brows and a frown. Jon did what he could to give him an encouraging smile despite the churning feeling in the pit of his stomach. Robb smiled weakly back at him and began to move stiffly towards Snowfyre’s left side.
Jon knew that Robb was under a lot of pressure to be a good dragon rider. He had come up under his older sister who was seemingly never nervous about anything. Jon remembered many late night talks with Robb about his frustration with being bested by his older sister during training, as well as the many reassurances he had given his son that he was doing just fine.
Jon looked on with nerves as his youngest child slowly mounted the dragon. It took him a little longer than Rhaella to find his seat, but eventually he settled in and grabbed on to whatever he could. Jon smiled to himself as he looked onto both of his children.
Without warning, Daenerys shot her family a smile and commanded Drogon forward. They took off over the cliff and below, out of Jon’s sight, before rising up in front of them. Rhaella followed as quickly as she could manage, and the image of her and Vhagar disappearing over the cliff’s edge left him choking back fear. It was only when he saw her soar up towards her mother that the feeling eased. Robb followed his mother and sister carefully, putting on a brave face to mask what was likely pure terror. Slowly, he and Snowfyre dipped below the cliff and soared off into the morning sun. Jon followed quickly after, not wanting to be left behind by his speedy wife.
Daenerys was right; the feeling of flying was the best thing he had ever felt. Every time he mounted the Rhaegal and sped into the sky, he felt as if he were lighter than air. The wind whipped across his face and clothes, but the burning feeling was definitely worth it. There was no place that he would rather be than astride the dragon named for his father as they rose through the sky.
The only feeling that would ever rival this was the absolute pride that he felt at watching his children follow in his and Daenerys’ footsteps.
No doubt because of their Targaryen blood, Rhaella and Robb were complete naturals. Despite his initial apprehension, Jon could see that Robb had a huge smile on his face as Snowfyre flew him over the ocean. Rhaella’s resounding hollers were contagious and he found himself whooping along with her. He could see Daenerys far ahead of him, circling back around to look onto her children with pride. It was later that night that he found out that the usual tears that pooled in her eyes from the wind were caused by something else that day.
Their children were dragons through and through, and there was nothing that could take away how proud Jon and Daenerys were of that fact.
***
Daenerys rarely spent much time in the kitchen, preferring to eat the delicious food prepared by the chef than to watch it be made. However, she did enjoy making lemon cakes when the occasion arose. As soon as they settled into their family home at Dragonstone, Daenerys planted lemon trees in the back garden. It connected her to the one place she felt at home while she was a child and it provided her with plenty of lemons to add to her diet.
It was a warm summer day when she found herself bent over a bowl, mixing furiously. The cook often knew to leave her during her baking time because baking typically meant that the queen wanted to be alone. Of course, she would not mind some company in the form of her handsome husband. He often liked to sneak in while she was baking and lick the bowl.
“You are going to get ill!” she would scold him as he stole the bowl away and ran around the corridor. He often left her rolling her eyes and chuckling with how childish he could be. She expected that this day would be no different.
She was putting the tray in the oven as she heard Jon’s heavy footsteps round the corner. “The bowl is on the table,” she informed him when he entered the room. He flashed her a sheepish grin and rounded the counter to pick it up.
“How do you always manage to know when I am finished?” she asked him.
“Because I know you better than you think,” he replied with a grin.
She scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do, Jon Snow.”
He smirked at his name, knowing that she only used the full version when she was on defense. He put the bowl down and walked towards her. “Really? Then how do I know that you secretly love it when I call you Dany?”
He was walking around her slowly, but she made no movement, reserving to stare straight ahead. She could hear him chuckle lightly at her stubbornness.
“I know that you miss the free cities of Essos more than you’re willing to admit.” She swallowed the lump in her throat that rose at the mention of Essos. He was right; she missed the warmth and rich culture that was found in the place she grew up. Not that she would ever admit it to him, of course.
“I know that you love it when I touch you,” he said in a low voice. She jumped at the feel of him behind her, his breath on her neck making her feel weak. Her body leaned into him on its own, betraying her mind and its resolution to stay still.
“And I know that you love it when I do this,” he said slowly, and before she knew it she felt his mouth at the little spot behind her ear. He had learned early on that she loved it when he kissed her there, and never shied away from it when they were behind closed doors.
Daenerys let out a small whine at the feeling of his hands around her waist and his mouth behind her ear. She swayed slightly, overcome with feeling, allowing Jon to support her weight. He turned her around in his arms and moved on to her neck, lavishing it with kisses as she struggled to keep her eyes open.
She happened to glance over at the hourglass and saw that the sand had almost run out, signaling that it was time to take the cakes out of the oven. “Jon,” she whispered. “The cakes.”
He hummed in agreement, not looking up from her chest. “Jon,” she pleaded. “Don’t be greedy.”
“You’re my wife, I’m allowed to be greedy,” he replied, and moved to kiss her on the mouth. The feel of his lips against hers sent her into overdrive. She momentarily forgot about the cakes as she leaned into Jon, deepening the kiss.
“Mmm, greed is good,” she said softly as he returned to kissing her neck.
The lemon cakes came out blackened, but Daenerys could not force herself to care.
***
There wasn’t much that Daenerys preferred to riding Drogon. The feeling of flying through the sky, wind whipping her hair around, and her stomach moving to her chest left her feeling euphoric for hours after it ended. She didn’t think that anything would ever compare.
Until she met Jon Snow, that is.
The first night he came to her room, the butterflies that had occupied her chest for the weeks previous exploded and left her feeling breathless. His intense gaze held hers for what felt like hours before he made the move to kiss her. That night, every intimate experience she had ever had was eclipsed by the mere running of his hands over her hips. Every place he touched made her skin feel like it was on fire, which is saying something because she knew what it felt like to be engulfed in flames.
It had been years since that first night, and the passion had definitely not diminished. Now that they shared their bedchambers there wasn’t much stopping them from being together whenever the moment felt right.
The moment often felt right.
It was a crisp morning at Dragonstone that saw the unfortunate necessity of Jon riding Rhaegal to north of the Wall. There had been some dissent amongst the Freefolk that Jon was especially equipped to handle, and they had two young children to take care of, so it was decided that he would ride alone. He also had plans to check in on his siblings at Winterfell, especially since Sansa had given birth to a daughter not long before.
Daenerys was sad to see him go, but that was not the only emotion that she was feeling upon watching him retreat towards the north. Ever since that fated day all those years ago, Daenerys had loved watching Jon ride Rhaegal. It warmed her heart to see her husband mount the dragon named for the brother she never knew and the father he learned of so late in his life.
Most importantly, the sight of him on a dragon filled her with a desperate, needy want that hit her like a gust of wind. The fact that she had to watch Jon ride a dragon coupled with the fact that he would be gone for some time was making her increasingly frustrated.
The walk back into the castle was tense. She had to walk carefully so as to hide how hard her legs were clenching together in her husband’s absence. She spent the rest of the day longing for night when she could retreat to her chambers and take care of her metaphorical itch. When the time finally came, she found herself only somewhat satisfied, missing Jon’s touch more than she thought she could.
The days following drug on and on. Daenerys bided her time by playing with her children and responding to ravens from various kingdoms requesting aid. Every night behind closed doors she would try in vain to dull the ache that had taken up residence between her legs.
It was almost a full moon later when he finally returned. Rhaegal touched down just before the sun disappeared behind the castle. Daenerys could barely contain her excitement as she watched Jon slide down Rheagal’s side. Was it just her or did he look even better than he did when he left?
He walked purposefully towards her with a small smile on his face. She felt like he could tell how needy she was for him, but as soon as he reached her he kissed her on the forehead, grabbed her hand, and begun walking towards the castle.
Daenerys walked along with him and listened as he described his trip. He told her of how Tormund was having trouble negotiating with one of the other clans over some land. They were able to get it figured out, thankfully, and he was able to spend some time with his new niece at Winterfell.
“She’s beautiful, Dany. It reminded me of when Rhaella was born and I didn’t want to leave her side for months,” he gushed.
Daenerys smiled at the memory. “We’ll have to take a family trip up north sometime soon. I think the children would love to meet her.”
Jon smiled at her. They had reached their chambers at this point, the throbbing between Daenerys’ legs had grown stronger with every step. They entered the room and Jon let go of her hand to begin removing his cloak.
“That ride is rough,” he mused as he worked on the buckle of his cloak. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that again for a while.”
Lust was coursing so quickly through Daenerys’ veins at the sight of her husband undressing that she lost all restraint. “Oh really?” she asked coyly. She began unbuttoning her dress slowly, maintaining eye contact with Jon once he looked up from removing his belt. “I thought you might want to ride another dragon tonight.”
He gulped, eyes widening as he took in the meaning of her words. She smirked at him and beckoned him closer.
“Am I going to have to remove this dress all by myself?”
***
The journey to Winterfell was a long one, and Daenerys resented the fact that she could not make short work of it on Drogon’s back. This was a family trip and her children were still too young to make the journey in the air, so she, Jon, Rhaella, and Robb were left to journey on a ship to White Harbor. From there, they rode on horseback to Jon’s family home.
“Mama how much farther?” asked Rhaella, tucked on Daenerys’ horse in front of her.
“About a day’s journey, my child. We are going to stop to rest sometime soon.” They had been riding all day, and Daenerys felt her child’s discomfort. Though she had become used to the soreness that followed horse riding, Rhaella had not spent nearly as much time on horseback as she had.
After the sun began to disappear behind the trees, Jon and Daenerys decided to stop in a little village for the night. Jon tended to the horses while Daenerys took Rhaella and Robb over to the inn to ask for a room for the night. The innkeeper looked a little shocked to see them, but maintained his composure long enough to guide them to their room. Jon joined them soon after, and they ate a small meal before turning in for the night.  
The next morning saw the four of them eating downstairs in the dining hall. People would stop at their table to welcome them to town and make small talk with the official Protectors of the Realm. Jon knew how much Daenerys loved to make conversation with the smallfolk. It reminded him of the stories she had whispered to him about her time in Essos.
They spent the rest of the morning walking around the little village. Rhaella and Robb had found some other children and were playing games with them while Jon and Daenerys bartered with some merchants. As Daenerys looked over to the children playing in the square, Jon couldn’t help but notice a note of sadness in her eyes.
“What is it my Queen?” he asked softly.
She met his eyes. “They live such happy lives,” she mused. “Don’t you ever wish we could live in a small village like this?”
“Aye,” he replied. “But I wouldn’t trade our family for anything.”
“I envy them,” Daenerys responded sadly. “They don’t have to worry about things like feeding armies and threats from the South.”
“That’s true, Dany. But they also don’t have to worry about tyrants anymore, thanks to you.”
She smiled at him. “I suppose you’re right.” She remained silent for a long moment. “Do you think it will ever be possible for us? To live like them?”
He smiled. “How about this? Once Rhaella and Robb are grown and married to other houses and serving as protectors in our stead, we can build a nice little house by the sea. Somewhere where we could be close to the children but also close enough to fly to Essos whenever we like. How does that sound?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think that sound like a great idea, Jon Snow.”
***
The feast was over, but Daenerys was starving. She had spent much of the meal trying to coax her babe to sleep and by the time Rhaella was finally down, the great hall had cleared out.
Jon and Daenerys had invited rulers of the Seven Kingdoms to Dragonstone to discuss the governing system of Westeros. It had resulted in a week of long discussions about the rights of smallfolk and the extent to which they had a say in the governance of their nation. The group of lords and ladies had finally agreed upon keeping the great houses as rulers and protectors, but allowing the smallfolk to vote on important issues that affected them.
Eventually, elections would be held to determine who would rule over the individual kingdoms, but Daenerys did not want to move too quickly. Her and Jon would remain Protectors of the Realm, but it was decided that one ruler over all of Westeros was too big of a job. They would instead turn their focus outwards, using their dragons and armies to help free people from persecution in the known world.
The whole event culminated in a feast to celebrate the beginning of a new nation, but Daenerys missed most of it when her daughter’s wet nurse came to fetch her after the first toast. Rhaella often had trouble sleeping, so Daenerys excused herself to help put her daughter to bed.
Two hours later, she made her way slowly into the great hall to find the maids cleaning up an empty room. She thought of walking to the kitchen and asking the cook to prepare her something light, but thought better of it when she realized what time it must be. Tired and hungry, she made her way to her bedchambers to try to get some rest.
When she arrived, she opened the door to find Jon sitting at the table by the fire. Before him was a large spread of food from the feast that included all of her favorite things. She stared at him for a moment before a smile broke out on her face. “Jon! What’s all this?”
“Supper. I figured you would be hungry so I had my steward bring some food for you.”
His nice gesture warmed her heart. He wasn’t the best with words, but it was his actions that told her how much he loved her. “Thank you. Rhaella just would not go to sleep,” she said as she sat down in the chair next to him.
“I’m sorry. Next time that happens, I’ll take her and you can stay with the lords and ladies,” he responded after handing her the flagon of ale.
“Actually, I think I prefer spending time with Rhaella to spending time with them.” He laughed at her admission. “What?” she asked with a smile. “I don’t mean to sound rude but they can be so daft sometimes. Don’t blame me for wanting to get away from all of that.”
“Aye, they are a handful. I thought Edmure would never shut up when Sansa asked him about the ship he arrived in.”
Daenerys laughed at that. “I am not sorry I missed that conversation.”
She ate in silence for a while, laughing as Jon recapped some of the more humorous aspects of the night. By the time she was ready for dessert, she was practically bursting out of her dress. “I’ve eaten so much, and yet I am still hungry!” she laughed.
“Well, you are a glutton for lemon sweets.” Jon replied, chuckling.
She narrowed her eyes at him playfully. “I’m serious! I’ve been so hungry lately and I feel like everything I eat is going to my chest!”
“I’m definitely not complaining,” Jon replied. “It reminds me of when you were pregnant with Rhae.”
Daenerys’ breath caught in her throat as she had a thought. She dropped her fork on her plate and moved her hands to her stomach. “Jon,” she said quietly.
His eyes widened and moved to her stomach. “Dany? Do you think…” he trailed off.
“I’m not sure. I can’t remember my last moonblood.” She closed her eyes and moved her hand over her stomach. Emotions coursed through her as she considered this new reality. Was she ready? So soon after having Rhaella, too. She hoped that she and Jon were ready for this. “I think I might be with child again.”
She said it so softly that he almost didn’t hear. She opened her eyes and looked at him nervously, trying to gauge his reaction. “What are you thinking?” she asked.
He gulped and took a moment before responding. She began to worry that he was unhappy, but he moved quickly from his chair and knelt in front of her, placing his hands over hers. “I think that you are the most beautiful woman in the world. No matter what happens, you are the most amazing mother to Rhaella.” He paused. “However, I would love for our family to grow even more.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she considered his words. She wanted nothing more than to have a large family with multiple children and it seemed as if her husband felt the same. “I love you,” she responded as she leaned down to kiss him.
***
Jon and Daenerys liked to take walks around Dragonstone every once in a while to clear their heads and catch up. The days were often so busy that they didn’t get a chance to see each other and talk. They started indoors, walking through halls of bedchambers, and often stopping to listen outside their children’s doors.
They passed Robb’s door to find him being read to by his wet nurse, snuggled in his bed for an afternoon nap. Jon and Daenerys smiled to each other fondly and Daenerys rested her head on his shoulder.
“He’s a sweet boy,” Daenerys said with a smile.
“Aye. You’ve rubbed off on him,” he replied with a kiss to her forehead.
Robb had recently had his fourth nameday, and preferred to fill it with a trip down to the beach with his family rather than a large celebration. Jon and Daenerys had been thankful that they didn’t have to bother with inviting guests.
Rhaella, on the other hand, loved big celebrations. She was soon to have her sixth nameday, and she had already specified that she wanted her parents to invite “everyone.” When Daenerys tried to clarify what that meant, she just shrugged and said “everyone.”
They were coming up on her room now, as evidenced by the sound of her playing with her dolls. Rhaella loved her dolls. They were a specially made gift that Jon had made for her about a year ago. There was a young girl with silver hair and violet eyes as well as a large green dragon to match Vhagar.
“My name is Rhaella Targaryen, second of my name, and I command you to bend the knee or feel my wrath!”
Daenerys shot Jon a worried look that he returned. They turned towards their daughter’s door and Daenerys knocked softly before opening it.
“Rhae?” she asked. “Can we come in?”
“Hi mama, papa. I’m playing dragons!” the child said cheerfully.
“I see that,” replied Daenerys. She sat down next to her daughter while Jon stayed posted by the door. “Can you tell me what that means? Feel your wrath?”
“You know, mama. They’re gonna be in trouble if they don’t follow me.”
Daenerys hummed. She was familiar with the type of speech that her daughter was now emulating; she had made a few herself. The difference was that Daenerys had worked hard since then to establish a peaceful nation that wasn’t ruled through fear, and she worried that her children and those who came after would not honor her creation.
“You know, Rhaella, it’s important for our family to protect those who need it. Many are taken from their homes and forced to do things against their will, which is why we use our dragons to free them and give them the ability to choose. But in order to be a good ruler, you also have to be gentle and kind. Do you understand?”
“I think so. So they shouldn’t feel my wrath?”
Daenerys smiled. “It is important to be strong when someone is committing a crime. You have to answer injustice with justice. But for now, when you play with your dolls, why don’t you try to be more gentle?”
“Okay, mama. I’ll try.”
“Who taught you that word, anyway?” asked Jon from the door.
“It was in one of the books Aunt Arya brought me! She read it to me one night before bed,” Rhaella replied with a smile.
“You’re going to have to have a talk with your sister,” Daenerys told Jon as they left the room to continue their walk.
“You don’t want our daughter to know of her ancestors?” Jon asked.
“Of course I do. I just don’t want her to be exposed to the wrong ancestors.”
“I see your point. I’ll send a raven when we return,” Jon replied easily.
***
The sun shone through the window, waking Jon from slumber. He could tell it was midmorning by its position and the shadow it cast over the room. Daenerys slept soundly next to him, no doubt exhausted from the previous weeks.
Their final battle for King’s Landing had taken a lot out of her. That, coupled with the weeks of rebuilding and reparations that had taken place, had Jon in awe of her tenacity. It was no wonder that she dropped to their bed at night and was asleep without so much as a “goodnight.”
She was honestly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He thought he was in love once, but being with Daenerys had shown him what actual love was. She showed it to him in the way that she truly loved her people and wanted to do right by them. She showed it in the way she loved her dragons as children. She showed it to him in the way that she loved him, unselfishly and unconditionally. He didn’t think that a ruler as kind and strong had ever lived.
He was perfectly content to watch her sleep. Her mouth opened slightly when she slept and her face was full of the creases that normally appeared when she was awake. Her hair flowed wildly about the pillows after being freed from her intricate braids. This was one of his favorite ways to look at her, and was all too often interrupted by her stirring slowly.
She moved slowly and opened her eyes, shielding them from the light coming in through the window. “I’ll never get used to that,” she mused.
It was true; King’s Landing was very different from where they had both grown up. They had opted to stay there for a few months while they were getting the Seven Kingdoms back on their feet. Daenerys wanted to be as close to the discussions as possible, which left her missing her family’s ancestral home more and more each day.
“Good morning,” Jon said softly.
She smiled up at him and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Good morning.” She moved to get out of bed, but Jon could tell it was difficult for her. He grabbed her hand quickly and tried to pull her towards him.
“Dany, you’re exhausted. It’s been weeks of non-stop talking and riding and you need a break.”
“Jon, they need me. There’s still so much to do and I can’t leave Tyrion alone with them because he-”
“Dany.” he cut her off mid-sentence. He began to pull her arm slowly until she fell down onto the bed next to him. “I think,” he said, kissing her cheek. “They can handle one day without you.” He began peppering small kisses around her face. Her forehead, her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, and finally her mouth. He felt her smile slightly and give in to his touch.
“Perhaps everyone could do with a day off,” she conceded. “But what will we do instead?”
“I can think of some ideas,” he said devilishly as he began to kiss down her throat. He felt her breath catch underneath him as she lifted her chin to give him more access.
“Hmm? And what would those be?” Her eyes were half-closed at this point, hands coming up Jon’s back to rest in his hair.
“I think I’m making it pretty obvious,” he replied, chuckling.
She could feel him pressed against her, which sent a jolt down to her core. “And after?”
“He moved up to kiss behind her ear. “I don’t plan on letting you out of this bed at all today,” he whispered against her skin.
“Jon, we can’t stay in bed all day. What do you take me for, a sloth?”
He pulled back from her neck and screwed his face in confusion. “A what?”
“A sloth. They are extremely slow and lazy animals. I read about them once in a book that my brother gave me.”
“Well, I’ve never heard of sloths, but today, that’s exactly what we are.” At that moment, his arms came around her behind and he scooped her up so she was sitting on his lap. She giggled as he moved them to a new position, resolving to make an exception for today.
And possibly, many more days in the future.
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jovialyouthmusic · 5 years
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Secret Rendezvous with Bastien Lykel Crack Fic Challenge
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New King’s Guard recruit Bastein Lykel’s first solo assignment is to accompany young Lady Madeleine home for the holidays from her exclusive girl’s school. Will her mother Lady Adelaide succeed in seducing the well built young man or will he be able to resist her charms? Not suitable for under 18s NS*W
Word Count 2907
A/N I first thought of writing this some months ago but only got a few paragraphs in before I ran out of steam. Talking of steam, hopefully it will be coming out of your ears by the end of this hot mess. Enjoy!
1 First Assignment
Bastien Lykel, the newest of the new recruits to the King’s Guard, parked the limo at Fydelia Manor and swiftly went round to the door to open it for young Lady Madeleine, newly returned from school for the summer holidays. She was some ten years younger than he, and she was snooty and difficult as nobles went. She barely registered his presence as her mother, Duchess Adelaide, came out to greet her.
‘Maddy my darling girl, welcome home’ she cried ‘I’ve got so many lovely things for us to do together this holiday, I’ve been looking forward to it’ She surged forward to embrace the young woman, but she stiffened and drew away after brief contact.
‘Really Mother, you shouldn’t have bothered’ she said icily ‘I have so much studying to do I shan’t have time for frivolities – and I’ve been invited to visit Lady Kiara next week for a few days’ Adelaide’s face fell for a brief moment before she smiled weakly.
‘Oh well Maddy, that’s good, visiting friends, and I’m so glad you’re focussed on your work.’ She touched her arm ‘I’ve arranged afternoon tea for us both today, I’m sure you’d like to sit with me and tell me all about school’ Bastien stood to the side watching the two women – or observing without being obtrusive, trying to blend into the background as Jackson Walker had instructed him to. He saw how eager Adelaide was to engage her daughter, but how cold the young woman was in return. His observational skills had been praised, and they came in handy many times.
‘Afternoon tea? I have to think of my figure, mother. I don’t think eating cake is nutritionally sound. I’d be happy with fruit or a light salad’
‘Oh of course darling, I’ll tell Cook to change the menu’ her mother said, all the fun and happiness going out of her eyes. Madeleine flounced off into the house, one of the servants following with her bags. Adelaide sighed and was about to follow her in when her eye fell on Bastien.
‘Well hello young man, you’re new’ she said, her gaze raking up and down his figure ‘You’re a fine specimen – what’s your name?’ Bastien drew himself up, straight backed and stiff necked.
‘Bastien Lykel ma’am.’ She looked him over approvingly
‘Well aren’t you a tall drink of water, Bastien. Is Maddy your first assignment?’
‘Yes ma’am, I just completed my training and I’m to be her bodyguard while she’s away from school’ Adelaide waved her hand at him and stalked a little closer, still ogling him.
‘Oh she’ll be no bother at all, that should be easy, Maddy’s a good girl’ she said ‘You need a job you can get your teeth into – I shall have to ask Mr Walker if you’re available when Maddy goes back to school – I don’t currently have any security’ She stood very close ‘My husband is away in England a lot, I’m alone a great deal of the time’ She fixed his gaze and he swallowed hard ‘Goodness knows who might be plotting to break into the manor and ravish me within an inch of my life’ she said in mock horror ‘Though that would make a welcome diversion, I get so bored.’ Bastien kept a stoic expression and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief as a member of staff came out to join them.
He was shown where the park the limo, and where his quarters would be, and he started an impromptu sweep of the perimeter of the property before going in to recce the layout of the manor. He had studied a layout of the interior beforehand and committed it to memory, and made it his business to visit every room and corridor to get a visual map too. Jackson had given him a file on known weak points, and he thoroughly checked and amended it. He waited until Adelaide and Madeleine were taking afternoon tea before checking their bedrooms.
He spent the rest of the afternoon getting to know the staff and going around the boundaries of the grounds again, checking over outhouses and summerhouses and the stables. He was pleased to see they had a swimming pool and that staff were allowed to use it at certain times of day, or ask permission. They didn’t have a gym so he resolved to jog or run round the perimeter every morning and stop at various points to train when the weather allowed. He couldn’t let his karate slip – he was in good shape but he needed to stay toned and agile.
He had dinner with the staff, and went to check in with the Duchess afterward on arrangements for night time security. It was not as intense as working at the palace, but it was good experience for him to have responsibility of the property entirely for himself. The truth was there was little for him to do unless they had visitors or he had to accompany the young girl off the property to visit friends. It was basically an easy job, but he suspected Jackson might arrange some challenge to test him.
The duchess had been drinking, that was obvious. She almost shrieked with delight when he entered the drawing room
‘Well if it isn’t the handsome Mr Lykel’ she cried ‘Come right in and take a seat.’ She patted the sofa next to her.
‘No thankyou Ma’am, I’ll stand if you don’t mind. It’s my job to check that all is secure for the night. Will yourself or your daughter be leaving the premises tonight?’ Adelaide pouted
‘Nope, we’re safe and secure, nowhere to go, no-one to see’ she sighed
‘Do you have a preferred time for the house to be secured?’ Bastien asked. This was a formality, the staff had already told him that the doors were locked at midnight when there were no guests.
‘Maddy’s already gone to her room to study before she goes to sleep. You might as well lock us all up for the night’ Bastien raised an eyebrow
‘Are you sure Ma’am, it’s barely ten o’clock’ he replied. She got up and walked to the drinks cabinet to pour herself a drink, then thought better of it. She held out her glass to the guard
‘Do you know how to mix a gin and tonic?’ she asked ‘I can show you just how I like it’
‘With respect Ma’am that’s not my job’ Bastien said, looking straight ahead and holding his hands behind his back. She slumped a little
‘Well perhaps you’d like a little drink yourself. I won’t tell’ she said, steadying herself on the cabinet.
‘No thankyou Ma’am, I’d better secure the premises’
‘When are you off duty?’ she asked, looking at him through half closed eyes. He thought she might be trying to look alluring, but she only managed to confirm the fact that she had been drinking more than she should have.
‘I may have down time but a Kings Guard is never off duty’ Bastien told a half lie – that applied at the Palace or wherever the Royal Family was resident or visiting, but it might get him away from Lady Adelaide’s attention. Besides, it was best to practice that rule before he was actually responsible for the wellbeing of the King or Queen. Adelaide frowned
‘You’re a dedicated man, Mr Lykel’ she said  ‘I’d like to meet you when you’re having your ‘down’ time’  She made toward him as if to swat his backside, but he moved faster than she, retreating toward the door without losing any dignity.
‘If you’ll excuse me Ma’am, I must see to my duties’ he half bowed and left the room. As per her instructions, he saw to locking the house up for the night and setting the alarms. The day staff had already gone home and the remainder were a little grumpy that lockdown was quite so early. He liaised with the housekeeper to make sure someone would be up and about to let the day staff in the next morning, as some arrived at 6am when he would hopefully still be asleep. He had hoped he’d be able to use the swimming pool but that was on the same alarm circuit as the main house, so any movement in there would set off the alarms.
There was little to do except sit in his office and keep watch on the security monitors. Luckily motion sensors did a lot of his job for him, but things were so quiet that he started to doze. Suddenly the alarms went off and he snapped back to wakefulness, cursing his inattention. Swiftly he saw that the breach was by the swimming pool and rather than take stock with the monitor, he leapt to his feet and made his way there as fast as he could. Gerald, the family butler, was there in the office to turn the alarm off, and other staff were appearing in the corridors to see what was the matter. Bastien made a mental note to have a drill the next day to prevent any confusion another time as he raced along the corridor.
He reached the swimming pool and threw open the door to hear splashing and thrashing sounds. Lady Adelaide, still fully dressed, floundered in the centre of the pool, the weight of her clothes hampering her attempts to get out again. Without a second thought, Bastien paused only to take off his shoes, jacket, pants and earpiece before leaping into the water and making his way to the struggling woman, grabbing her under her arms and pulling her to the side of the pool, feeling her grow still and heavy. By this time several other staff had appeared and helped to get her out of the pool. Bastien pulled himself out easily, his shirt soaked to the point of transparency, his briefs clinging to the contours of his pelvis, hiding nothing of what lay beneath. The Duchess was laid out on the poolside, unresponsive.
‘Stand back’ Bastien said in a firm calm tone ‘Let me assess the situation’  Swiftly he checked to see if she was still breathing, and laid her on her back with her head tilted back to clear her airway. As he did so she started coughing, and he turned her over on her side to help her empty her lungs of water. She retched and coughed and took a deep shuddering breath. She struggled to sit up and he helped her, grasping her shoulders and looking into her eyes as she got her breath back.
‘Stay calm your Grace’ he said ‘you’re safe now’ She nodded, tears streaming from her eyes as she coughed up more water. She held on to Bastien’s arm tightly
‘Mr Lykel – you saved my life’ she gasped ‘I was – I remember I left a book in here – I came in and when the alarm went off, it startled me and I fell in’ She pressed herself to his chest and sobbed. After an awkward moment he patted her on the back and then rested his hands on her back as she cried, waiting patiently for her to stop. Madeleine appeared and frowned at the scene
‘For goodness sake mother, have you no sense?’ she scolded ‘If you wanted the help to maul you I’m sure there are less dramatic ways’
‘M-Maddy’ cried Adeleide ‘It wasn’t like that I swear’ Madeleine rolled her eyes and pulled her mother away from Bastien
‘Oh please’ she said, and looked down her nose at Bastien ‘This isn’t the first time she’s staged something like this’ She imitated her mother’s voice ‘Oh Mr So and So, how can I ever repay you? I’m so lonely, stay and keep me company’ Bastien straightened up, but Adelaide’s eyes were fixed to his groin in amazement, and self consciously he covered himself with his hands and went to retrieve his clothes. The rest of the staff were staring also, and only Madeleine was oblivious to his impressive assets. Not for the first time he regretted being well endowed, a ‘shower’ so it was difficult to hide what he had in his pants. Folk knowing about his assets led to expectations that he was usually happy to fulfil, but he wanted to concentrate on the task in hand – being a member of the King’s Guard was a demanding and responsible job and he was eager to excel. Being big also meant that a quick fumble wasn’t practical – having sex was time consuming and he liked to have a worthy partner.
He managed to pull back the situation, sternly telling everyone to go back to their rooms and asking Gerald whether a doctor might be available to come and check her out before she retired for the night. He didn’t relish the idea of driving her to hospital, compromising security for herself and for young Madeleine. As luck would have it, the family doctor lived not far away and was able to come and check her out. Madeleine refused to wait with her mother, so a member of staff was assigned to fetch dry clothes and keep her company. Bastien went to change too and stood on duty outside the room where the Duchess waited for the doctor.
It was a half hour or so before he arrived and went in to examine her. He looked none too pleased to be called out, muttering about entitled nobility under his breath. He came out having declared her fit and healthy and with a recommendation that she cut down on alcohol. The member of staff left and Adelaide appeared in the doorway. She looked to be considerably more sober and motioned for Bastien to go into the drawing room with her. He followed in and closed the door with some trepidation.
‘Mr Lykel – can I call you Bastien?’ she started.
‘If you wish Ma’am’
‘Oh tish, don’t ‘Ma’am’ me – or ‘your grace’ – call me Adelaide, Bastien. I think you’ve earned that privilege.’
‘If you insist, Lady Adeliade’ he replied, still standing tall, hands behind his back. She sighed
‘Do you have to be so formal?’ she asked, and passed her hand over her forehead. ‘Oh let me guess, you’re on duty’ As she looked at him again he discerned a look of loneliness in her eyes. She drew a deep breath and sat down.
‘I’d like to thank you again, Bastien’ she said ‘Despite what my daughter said, it wasn’t a ruse. It was an accident and I’m lucky you were so quick responding to the alarm. If you hadn’t set it I might not be sitting here right now’
‘I assure you Ma’am, I was watching the security monitors, and the motion sensors are always live so I know if someone is in the pool area’ he assured her. He was sure he would have picked up her dilemma even without the alarm going off – she must have slipped almost immediately after entering the pool room, but he intended to return and double check the sensors straight away.
‘All the same, your swift action almost certainly saved my life’ she said. Looking up at him, a vulnerable expression on her face ‘To many people I’m a joke’ she went on ‘Poor sex mad Adelaide, chases anything in pants’ She looked down at her hand, spinning her wedding ring in her finger ‘Once my husband had his heir he wasn’t interested in bedding me anymore. I do have lovers – I have to, or I’d go mad. Godfrey doesn’t care, he has his – interests too’ she made a wry face. Thanks to Jackson’s background checks in the file he had given him, Bastien knew that her husband liked much younger women and spent most of his time in his own earldom in England. He rarely came to Cordonia unless there was an important function to attend, or his help was needed in supporting the King’s policies. There was a nominal parliament in Cordonia but they were mostly puppets, loyal to the King.
‘I’m sorry to hear it Ma’am’ he replied, already in his mind working out the remainder of the night’s perimeter check. She sighed, aware that she’d lost his attention.
‘Well I suppose I’d better go to bed’ She looked at him archly ‘Perhaps you’d better see me back there just in case…’ Bastien swallowed, but thought it better to comply as she would probably just persist in trying to seduce him, and at that moment he had the excuse of working.
‘Very well Lady Adelaide’ He opened the door for her and waited for her to exit, then went to follow her. She turned to him and took his hand. He firmly let go
‘Best to keep things professional, Ma’am’ he said, and she flounced off down the corridor to her room. At the doorway she stopped, holding it half open and biting her lip. Her eyes dropped to his groin then back to his face.
‘You know, someone who’s built like you are must have a high sex drive’ she whispered ‘Luckily so do I, and I’m not a tight little virgin - so if you’re ever in need…’ she winked broadly ‘You know where I am’ Bastien could not help but blush at her forward nature so he pretended he hadn’t heard and swiftly turned away
‘Good night Ma’am, sleep well’ He intoned as he marched off down the corridor
2 Challenging Behaviour
3 The Lesson
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aria-i-adagio · 5 years
Text
What You Take Won’t Kill You
Tumblr media
Masterpost
Fandom: The Arcana
Chapter Rating: T with a squeeze of lime
By the time Portia’s deft hands have finished with my hair and face, I’m so dolled up that I feel as though I’m impersonating someone else - an actress standing in the middle of a stage, praying that the lines that she’s forgotten return to her.  The fabric and the cloud of expensive fragrance that surrounds me change my posture.  My back is held straighter, my steps are smoother, more confident.  Perhaps, instead of a costume, I can think of it as a kind of armor that will make it easier to suffer through the next hour.  Portia has her arm hooked in mine, and I'm not sure if it's support or to make sure I won't run away.  Probably a little bit of both.
Nadia awaits us in the room with the horrible goat painting, this time set up for a more intimate dinner.  Two sets of tableware are already laid, and Portia gives a nod towards the chair closest to the Countess's before whispering conspiratorially in my ear.  "I'll keep the booze coming.  Won't hurt."  She slips into her servant persona again, all prim and proper.
"Dema.  It seems the Palace is becoming to you."  Red eyes flicker over me, and for the first time feel that she is appreciating my appearance.  I'm still not entirely sure about what to do with her.  I don't care for the trick that she pulled with my cards - though it was admittedly quite clever.  And my sympathies certainly lay more with the Doctor than with the Countess.  But...she has resources that I might need if I'm actually going to discover what happened three years ago.  And if nothing else, I'll get another good meal out of this.  I can't cook for shit and when Asra is gone, I typically eat whatever stuff on a stick the market is serving up that day.
"My lady."  I lower my head slightly, which is all of the bow I'm going to give her.  "I can't say that I haven't enjoyed any of my stay here."
A gracious nod tells me she appreciates my gesture - minimal as it is - and suggests that no more is demanded of me.  "I am told the collection of things you brought was quite remarkable.  If there is anything else you need, let Portia or me know.  It will be taken care of." 
"I'd appreciate a little more time in the library.  Uninterrupted."  I pause, then add on.  "And my sandals did take a bit of beating while running about the city today." 
"Can do!"  Portia pipes up, and I see a brief expectant smile in the Countess’s red eyes as she’s reminded of Portia’s presence.  "I know what you can do, milady.  Pretend it's Dema's birthday."
Birthday?
An excited finger pokes my ribs.  Birthdays seem to be a good thing in the magical world of Portia.  Nadia smiles at her handmaid’s antics.  “Hmm, I can think of some other gifts for you.  And I hear the kitchen has already prepared a lovely cake.  And some . . . guests . . . since you have a penchant for fraternizing with your prey, I thought it would be nice to invite them along to share our meal. What do you say?"
When is my birthday anyway?  And fraternizing with my prey?  Does the Countess know that I spoke to Julian at the bar?  Or that he broke into my shop.  That would be . . . unfortunate, primarily for me.  Unless, of course, she had somehow caught him.  For a moment, I’m afraid that Julian will be pushed into the dining room with manacles on his wrists, but the only people who enter are the two guards, once again in their normal uniforms.  I manage not to sign in relief.
"Let them stay.  They played your game well."
“I suppose our two fierce creatures do deserve a reward.”  She indulges me with a smile.  "Take seat, please, all of you. It is time for a little something to warm your hearts and steady your nerves, even if it is just for a little while."
It seems a servant has been waiting outside already, bringing fine silver cups filled with ice and sprigs of mint and something gingery, judging by the smell.  Portia takes place to stand at her mistress's side, seeming more like a proud mother hen than a social inferior.  "Sit, please, before the ice melts."
Overly aware of my dress, I tuck it around my legs and take my seat near the head of the table.  Another servant enters and lays out two place settings at the other end, as far of the Countess as possible.  That won't do.  I get back up, walk down to the end of the table, collect the flatware and the plates and bring them back to the head of the table, setting them down across from mine, and giving the Countess a pointed look.  Let them stay does not mean to exile them to the far end of the table.
The Countess stares down her nose her me, and then a slow smile overtakes her face.  "While I understand your point, my esteemed Dema, I very much doubt you are doing them a favor."  I want to read her smile as icy, but isn't, not really.  She seems more... amused?  Indulgent is perhaps the right word.  Someone allowing the antics of a favored pet to play out before tightening the leash again.
Portia seems to be suppressing a giggle as she quickly rearranges the flatware back into the proper order as I walk back to one own place and take my seat.  The Countess's comment about not doing them a favor may have been right.  Both guards look entirely terrified as they take their places across from me.  Ah well.  Of course, in using them to make a point of the Countess, perhaps I wasn't behaving much better than she herself had.
"Have you recovered from your trials?"  Nadia asks friendly little questions, polite and amicable, but somehow so very... no, distant is not quite the right word.  Far away, maybe, or lonely, the same kind of lonely a traveling merchant has when staring into a tavern fire during a long night.  She’s simply far better in masking it with friendly chit chat.  Undoubtedly, Portia briefed her in about those two, and she manages to keep a conversation flowing, even if it's mainly her asking the questions.
Unfortunately, her polite questions turn to me.  “Tell me more about yourself, Dema.  Where are you from?”
“Umm.”  I grab my wine glass and hastily drink from it, in a bid to stall for time.  “It’s far from here.  Small town.  You wouldn’t have heard of it.”
"You might be surprised.  I have heard of an astounding amount of small places.  It is important to know such..."  For a second, her voice breaks, and she looks like she's bitten on something vile, food or memory.  A hasty sip of wine.  "But I cannot blame anyone for getting drawn in by the big city.  Of course not.  Adventure and money, whatever you prefer."
"A little of both, I suppose."  A servant whisks away the ice, replacing with some sort of fish involving chopped and highly spiced raw fish.  I push a bit of fish around my plate, trying to figure out a way to turn the conversation to a different topic.  “I moved here to work with my aunt.  She, uh, owned the shop before me.”
"So you have lived here for a while?"  One of the guards asks, glad to be out of the spotlight.  "You like it? We rarely get into town itself.  Feels like it changed a lot." 
“Oh, you know how is it,” I dissemble and wish that I had a god to pray to that no one else would ask questions about my life or past.  “Things change slowly, and you hardly notice it at all.”
Nadia inserts herself back into the conversation.  “Was your aunt a card reader as well?”
“She -”  I don’t know much about my aunt either.  Asra’s told me that the shop was once hers, and I’ve inferred some things from the contents of thereof, but I don’t know any real details.  “She mostly worked with herbs.”  I stuff my mouth with another bite of the fish, hoping for a reprieve from her questions.
“Ah, botanical magic, how pleasant.”
“Um, yes.  This fish is quite nice.”  Please let that distract her.  Or maybe she’ll just ask me about herbs and flowers.  I can answer those questions.
“The kitchen here does admirably well, but I’m afraid they haven’t quite managed to replicate the flavors I remember from my childhood.  Nonetheless, it is a wonderful dish for a summer night.”
A servant whisks my empty plate.  Nadia pushes back her chair and stands.  At the other end of the table, Bludmila and Ludovico drop their utensils in unison.  “Portia, please have the sorbet and desserts Dema and I sent to the veranda.  I think I would like to enjoy the night air a bit.  And -”  She tilts her head down to look at me.  “I would like to speak a bit more privately.”  
I follow her out onto the veranda.  Lamps sway along the railing, providing sufficient light, but no so much as to overwhelm the sense of nighttime solitude.  Nadia settles herself into a wicker chair at a small table.  As a servant places two dishes of icy sorbet topped with mint sprig, I take the seat across from hers.  She picks up the petite spoon from the dish and gently scraps a bite from the sorbet.  I decide to be polite this time and mirror her actions.  The sorbet is cherry - tart and only slightly sweet.  It complements rather than clashing with the lingering taste of the spiced swordfish.
“I fear that I may not have made the best of impressions on you, Dema.”
The mouthful of sorbet melting on my tongue conveniently keeps me from quipping about her understatement.  She continues without waiting for a response.
“I’m not unaware of the current state of disorder in the city.  My motivations with this investigation are simply to begin to restore the city’s order and perhaps its faith in my competence as a leader.  To do that, I must establish what happened three years ago and see Count Lucio’s murderer brought to justice.”
“How is it that you don’t know what happened?”
She sets her spoon down and looks over the railing.  Her lips are pressed together into a thin line as she gazes at the darkness over the garden.  As I wait for her response, a massive snowy owl lands on the railing beside her.  She smiles and reaches out, stroking the owl’s head and speaking to it.  “Ah, Chandra, it’s good to have you here, old friend.”  The owl hoots gently at her.  She turns back to me and takes a deep breath - the first sign nervousness I’ve seen from her since those first few moments in my shop.  “What I am about to tell you must remain entirely between the two of us.”
“My lady?”
“Please.  Nadia.  Too few people call me by my name these days.”  She presses a hand to her temple, ever so briefly gnaws at her thumb, and then lets her hand fall back into her lap.  “I have - almost no recollections of my time in this city.”
“Your memories are missing?”  That single sentence changes my entire impression of the Countess, but I’m not yet willing to give into the sudden surge of empathy that fills me.
“Sometimes I recall hints of the past.  Whispers.  But anytime that happens, I also experience excruciating headaches . . . blinding really.  I remember agreeing to marry Lucio.  Coming to Vesuvia during the masquerade nine years ago, but everything in between, my memories are like being lost in a fog on some lonely island.”
“That -” I allow my own spoon to clatter against the sorbet dish.  What I’m about to say is as much of a understatement as the Countess’s comment on having failed to impress me.  “Would be disconcerting.” 
“Yes.”  The Countess turns back to the owl and runs her fingers over its glossy feathers.  “Portia is the only other person aware of my . . . predicament.  But I think you will now understand why I must know what happened, and who I can trust.  My courtiers tell me that Dr. Devorak is guilty.  If he is, so be it, he will hang when I apprehend him.  Which is at least an improvement on the gladiatorial trial by combat some of my courtiers would like to see return.  But I am not entirely convinced that they are telling me the whole story, or even a true story.  I will be just as content if you find he is innocent, so long as we establish the truth.”
“Why me?”
“I came to your shop because I continually saw your sign - the snake wrapped around an apothecary’s mortar and pestle - in my dreams.  I don’t know what I expected.”  She pauses and fixes me with another appraising look.  I doubt that I am anything like what she expected.  “But I think that I can trust you.  You have little interest in telling me what I want to hear.”  She rubs both of her temples.  The muscles in her face have gone taut, probably another headache coming on.  “Perhaps you will think a little more kindly of me now?”
“If your goal is to establish the truth, I can agree to help you with that.”
“That is all I require of you.”  The Countess stands, and Portia materializes from the shadows.  “I believe I will retire for the evening.  Portia, would you see Dema back to her guest room and provide her with anything she needs?”
Portia links her arm in mine as we stroll along the veranda, taking an alternate route back to the guest room.  “See, that wasn’t so bad.”
“I suppose not.”  I had made it through dinner without staining the white dress, and the conversation with the Countess had been illuminating.  Her intentions might not be as horrible as they seemed at first.  Perhaps she was more misguided than anything.  It was a vulnerable state, to be reliant on someone else to fill in information from a large chunk of time.  More vulnerable than I really liked to admit.  “So, the Countess has lost all of her memories of Vesuvia?”
“Yeah . . . I wasn’t exactly sure when I should tell you that, sorry.”  Portia let go of my arm to push open a door leading back inside.  “I wanted to earlier.  But, I’m glad that she told you.”
“So it really has been the courtiers running Vesuvia?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Oh?”  I elbow her side gently, finally haven’t become accustomed to her familiarity.  “Sounds like you have opinions?”
“As always.”  She looks around the hallways, reassuring herself that they’re clear before continuing.  “They’re - well, you’ll meet them soon enough.  But Valerius is the only one who seems concerned at all about the city, and he has a certain expectation about how things should go.  Then there’s Valdemar . . .”  She shivers.  “I don’t know if I even want to know what they’re up to.  Certainly wouldn’t help me sleep if I found out.”  She takes my arm again.  “But, you’ve had quite a long day, let’s get you back to bed.”
***
When I got back to my room, I undressed and curled up in bed hugging a pillow and hoping for a bit of sleep.  I wasn’t surprised when it didn’t.   I rolled back out of bed and paced the room trying to burn off the nagging wrongness - something missing - I felt deep in my bones.  Faust’s presence would be welcome, but tonight she’s nowhere to be seen.  With a sigh I settled myself on a the sofa with a glass of water from the carafe that had thoughtfully been left in the room and took Asra’s deck from my bag of belongings.  Leaning back against the plush cushions I let my mind turn for a moment.  I have questions about Nadia and Julian both.  Nadia’s motivations are a bit clearer now, but I can’t quite bring myself to trust her.  And Julian -  why did I almost immediately feel connected with him?  It couldn’t just be his past with Asra, whatever that had or hadn’t been?  
I settle on Julian as a topic of intrigue and shuffle the deck several times before cutting it and laying out the top three cards.  I pause before turning them over in quick succession.  The Moon, the Hanged Man reversed, and the Ace of Cups.  I let my fingers hover of the spread, but the cards were quiet.  Or perhaps, they were simply drowned out by my own mind howling at the moon.  The Hanged Man still seems appropriate to Julian - one so buffeted by the waves of fate that he’s simply given up and hopes to be washed up on some shore.  The Ace of Cups should feel more promising than it does, but the idea of an overflowing cup is only reassuring if you’re not the one being asked to empty yourself.  I close my eyes.  There’s only one person who might actually answer my questions about Julian.  Besides, if I wandered off to bar even if I didn’t find him, I could simply fall back on my usual strategy for coping with insomnia and existential dread: wine, music, sex - anything to deaden the roar of my mind.  
Given the way the palace gardens and the field wrapped around this city, the bar with raven signboard is actually closer than my usual haunt near the shop.  And, certainly, more interesting.  As I had suspected, business had picked right back up once the guards had left.  In fact, a fiddler had been added to the mix, along with a somewhat drunken accordion player.  I order a couple of drinks from the bar - neither Portia’s purloined champagne or the wine over dinner had been enough - then surveyed the room, quickly spotting the person I hoped to find again when I left the Palace.
“Mind if I sit here?”
A very surprised Julian looks up at me as I set my drinks down next to his.  “Not at all.  I wasn't expecting to see you again tonight.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” I sit down across the table from him and throw back the double shot of harsh liquor I held in my head, chasing it with the significantly better beer.  Julian raises his eyebrows and looks vaguely impressed.  But then wine from dinner had merely been a drop in the bucket of my ever expanding alcoholism.  After all, why should I bother to keep the present clear when the past was so blurry.
He glances over my clothes, then smirks.  “Whatever are you wearing, my dear?”
“Oh.”  I hadn't really thought about coordinating when I shrugged into some combination of clothes that covered the important bits.  I was in my old canvas trousers (someone in the palace laundry had expertly mended the ripped hem) and a loose sleeveless top of my own.  A black silk robe that had been tossed across the back of the sofa was over that, just skimming the tops of my thighs.  I suppose it was intended to be a bathrobe, or a dressing gown.  It was doing well enough as an overshirt, if well enough was limited to providing one more layer against the evening chill.  I return his smirk.  “What?  You don’t think this fits with my general bohemian aesthetic.”  
Julian laughs, and I feel a warmth beginning in my belly, once that has nothing to do with the alcohol or even lust.  I've heard this laugh before - I know, I just know - and I want to keep hear it again and again.  “Don't worry about it.  I'm sure you’d look fetching in a flour sack.  You certainly do in whatever this is.”
“You’re the one wearing gloves indoors and a shirt missing most of its buttons.”
“Fair enough.”  He shrugs, eyes glassy with drink.  “You do realize that Nadia'll hang you with me if she finds out you've known where I am and haven't told her.”  He reaches across the table and strokes the side of my head that collided with the door frame the other night.  The familiarity is both unexpected and yet, it somehow feels right.  “Your head hasn't been bothering you has it?”
My head always bothers me, but not from the knock the other day.  Whatever he did to heal the concussion lasted.  “See, I’m having trouble reconciling that concern with a cold blooded murderer.”
“Even murderers are entitled to some moral complexity, my dear.”  He drinks his beer, gaze shifting from side to side and then down at his gloved hands.  He rubs his right hand across the back of the left, lips pursed in an utterly abject expression.  “If I even am a murderer.”
I lower the beer that I had almost raised to my lips back down on the table.  “If?  You don’t know.”
“I, well -”  He leans forward over the table, dropping his head into his hands.  “I don’t remember much of what happened the night Lucio died.  Everything from then - not just that night, all of the plague, really - is foggy, confused.”
More missing memories?  His, the Countess’s - mine.  If amnesia is the running theme, was I involved in the murder somehow?  And what else had been involved to disorder so many people’s minds?  There wasn’t much in the books I had access to about losing memories, but what little I had found was consistent in noting that it was extremely uncommon outside of old age or significant trauma.  Julian and Nadia both have a clear connection to the Count and his murder, but I don’t - at least, not as far as I know.  But there is an awful lot that I don’t know.  
But, more to the immediate point.  “Why are you in Vesuvia then?  Do you want to die for a murder you may not have commited?”
“Does it matter?  Look, sailing with pirates for three years gives a man a lot of time to think and all I know is that I’m guilty of something.  I have to be, to feel the way I do.” He lifts his head for a moment before dropping it back against the table, arms crossed in front of him.  “Besides, if it's my fate to hang, then there's no, um, no point in continuing to run from it.  Maybe I’ll at least get some kind of answer out of dying.”
There's something about seeing him so despondent that makes me want to wrap both my arms around him - and tightly.  I start to reach my hand across the table, then jerk it back.  I've had plenty of bleak interludes, but what I feel right now is some emotion that goes unexpectedly beyond casual empathy.  Some bizarre sense that he is important to me.  A piece of heirloom jewelry that was lost and is now found, or a rare book once read in a library and now available for redemption on a vendor’s table.  I’m not quite sure how to explain away the sentiment or just what to do with it.  But not acting isn't an option.  I slowly extend my hand until my fingers are resting on his shoulder.  “It wasn’t you.”
He raises his head, just enough to meet my eyes.  “You can’t tell me that I’m innocent.  You don’t know that.”
“No.”  I lift my fingers from his shoulder and stroke the lock of hair that’s falling over his face.  “But I know you’re not a bad man.”
“How?”
“I -”  This isn’t like the cards whispering to me.  This is something more real, something from inside of me.  The words are distant, as if they’ve been shouted through a fog and had to echo over open water before reaching me, but but unlike the cards, the words are my own, and I know they are true.  My fingers brush against his cheekbone.  “I just do.”
“You really are a little fool.”  His head tilts, leaning into my fingers.  I stroke his hair and his cheekbone, waiting for him to say something else.  The fiddler pulls a long morose note from the strings that wavers in the air.  He sits up and tosses a coin across the room to the musicians, calling for something happier, faster.  The accordionist catches it adroitly and the pair begin a quick paced tune.  
Julian takes another drink of his beer and smiles at me - it only looks half forced - before standing and bowing dramatically, one hand extended to me.  I return his smile and toss back the remains of my beer.  This may not be an answer but it is part what I was hoping for when I came - to find someone to dance with into the energy running through my body gave out.  Anyone would do, honestly, but at the moment, Julian intrigues me.  I stand up and take his hand.  Eyebrow arched in what might be surprise, he takes my hand, his grin becoming more genuine as he does.  
He is, as I suspected, a fine dancer.  And dancing him with isn’t as awkward as I would have expected, given that he’s head, shoulders, and bit of ribcage taller than I am.  I feel as if he knows the steps I’m going to take before I do.  We whirl through two songs before returning breathless to our table and signaling to the barkeep for more beers, which Julian helpfully goes to fetch.
He slides close to me on the bench, wrapping an arm companionably around my shoulders. “Why the trouble sleeping, lovely?”  
I shrug.  Honestly, I don't know.  Sometimes, I just got too agitated to sleep for days on end for absolutely no apparent reason at all.  And then the sleeplessness only snowballs on itself as the agitation takes over, tearing into my consciousness like a vulture working on a fresh carcass, until finally, my mind is so far from my body that the latter can simply crash down into bed.  But Julian looks like he knows a few things about not sleeping.  Reaching out, I run my finger along the dark circle under his uncovered eye.  “And how well do you sleep?”
“I'll sleep when I'm dead.”  He leans over me.  “You smell good.”  He traces the line of my now exposed collarbone.  I lean into his touch, running my tongue across my bottom lip.  But then he shakes his head, straightens up there robe tied over my shirt, and pushes my hair back from my face.  I narrow my eyes at him, pouting and disappointed.  Julian is the perfectly awful decision I’ll looking for.  And he's clearly enough interested in me.  He runs a hand along my jaw and brushes his thumb over my bottom lip.  “I’d love to, darling, really, but I don’t know you well enough to know if this is your normal, or if you simply have amazing balance while inebriated.”
“I’m never normal, per se.”
“Note that I said ‘your normal’ not just 'normal.’”
“I'm not at all sure that I even have a personalized normal.”
“Life that complicated, my dear?”
“Not really.”  My life itself is fairly banal, except for that whole not remembering more than three years thing.  I feel like a ghost.  A specter - a spectator - at the limits of life and death.  A shade captured in patterns of behavior that were set for me long ago.  Watching.  Reacting.  But every time I feel able to act on my own, something seizes me, either pulling into melancholy or dragging me up, up, up into a frenzy.  And, once again, I'm stuck in the pattern, whatever exit I glimpsed long past, and I'm once again caught barely managing to balance between life and death.  Maybe that's why I had accepted the Countess's proposal; I wanted the exterior to match a little more constant parade of up and down in my interior life, or at least, provide me with a sorry if distraction from them.  “But my mind makes up for it in sheer unpredictability.”
“You better get back to the palace; it’s nearly dawn.  Come on, I’ll walk you.”  
“That sounds like a horrible idea.”  I lean forward, resting my forehead against his shoulder one hand on his chest, the other resting on his waist.  I’m not inebriated, but I might be a little drunk.  “I don’t want you to get caught.”
“Heh.”  Under my fingers, his chest catches in a half laugh.  “Compromise.  Your shop?”
“I can work with that, I think.”  I mean, he was walking openly in the market the other morning.  The people who live and work around my shop must not be in a hurry to turn him in either.
The air outside has gotten steadily cooler over the course of the cloudless night.  I wrap the bathrobe tighter around me and retie the knot in the sash.  Julian stops and looks back at me with a concerned expression.
“Are you warm enough in that?”
“This?  I’m fine.  Silk is a surprisingly good insulator.”
“I did not know that.”  He takes my arm when I stumble over a bucket that has been tossed in the street.  “Still, you, um, you look like you might be chilly.”  He pulls me close to him, and wraps one side of his coat around me.  It’s comfortable - the same way snuggling against Asra is comfortable.  We walk in silence arm and arm, through several turns of the street.    
“Say, why did my old mask upset you so much?”
“I -” I shudder at the thought of those glassy red eyes.  “I don’t know, to be honest.”  I pull my arm free of his hand.  “I’m sure a lot of people don’t like them.  Bad memories.  And you had broken into my home as well.”
“Yeah, I really am sorry about that.  I mean, I thought I was just breaking into As - the witch’s home.”
“Why are you trying to find him?”  And for that matter, why doesn’t he want to say his name?  At some point, Asra had been someone Julian wanted to protect, rather than “the witch.”
“I need answers.  I think he has them, if I can get him to tell me something for once.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Heh,” Julian chuckles.  “How long have you . . . ?”
“Been his apprentice?  Three years.”  At least, that’s as far as I can remember being his apprentice.  I’m not quite sure that I’m ready to trust Julian with the full extent to which I’m missing my own past.  I want to.  I’m so tired of keeping that card clutched close to my chest, telling little lies to disguise it and praying that I can keep up with them, all the while feeling like I’m drifting further and further from who I actually am.
“Fascinating timing.”
“What?”
“Oh nothing.  Look, we’re at your shop.”
Speaking of people not answering questions.  Almost as bad as Asra.  I undo the wards on the door and turn back to say goodbye to Julian.  He leans down, embraces me, then kisses my cheeks: one, then the other, then the first one again.  “Sleep, my dear.” 
“You too, maybe?”
“Maybe.”  He smiles at me - a genuine smile with no hint of a smirk.  Then he’s gone.
Chapter Seven
a/n: Yes. I was and am very much into nineties era Depeche Mode, and so is Julian.  At least, this Julian.  Who also gets worried about whether he likes new bands because they’re actually good, or just because they’re trendy.
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puppetwritings · 6 years
Text
A Little Sprout of Love || Seungcheol || Pt. 3
Pt. 1 // Pt. 2 // Pt. 3 // Pt. 4 // Pt. 5 // Pt. 6 // Pt. 7 // Pt. 8 // Pt. 9 (FINAL)
Word Count: 1668
Genre: fluff, single-parent!au, daycare!au, casual writing
Summary: Seungcheol never thought he would be able to love again. He was distracted by his own daughter and he found it difficult to trust anyone. Love comes when one least expects it and Seungcheol certainly didn’t expect his daughter’s daycare teacher to be the one to plant the little sprout of love in his heart.
“Wow, that’s almost like a drama,” Jeonghan said, before he broke off a piece of the Peppero he was eating. He pointed the chocolate covered biscuit stick at Seungcheol, “You are the male lead.”
Seungcheol rolled his eyes as he looked intensely at his laptop and turned back to his daughter’s head. He mumbled an apology to her as he took out the elastics from her hair and combed it out, opting to start over. “What do you mean it’s a drama?”
“A fated meeting!” Jeonghan said, sitting up from his slouched position. He spread out his hand across the air as if envisioning a headline. “Girl, a daycare teacher, goes to police station to retrieve someone—presumably her brother—and she meets a handsome young cop. Handsome young cop happens to be the father of the little girl who grew attached to her at the daycare. The two grow close because of silly misadventures and ‘haha’ rom-com moments. Girl falls in love with guy and boom—Ara’s got a new mother.”
Ara looked at Jeonghan, fascinated by the story.
“Good, huh?” Jeonghan asked, grinning at Ara.
“Not good,” Seungcheol said, glaring at Jeonghan. He turned his attention back to the instructions on his laptop monitor with a small pout. “That sounds more like a horror movie.”
“Only you would say love is a horror movie,” Jeonghan said blankly with a shake of his head as he laid back down. He plucked another stick of Peppero from its packaging and held it between his lips. “I think of this as a great opportunity to get you back out there.”
“It was on chance encounter.”
“A chance meeting and then a chance encounter? And your daughter will be there so there will be more encounters? This is a start.”
“Stop.”
“What? I’m just rooting for you, buddy.”
“You’re rooting for something that’s never even started,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “Now stop writing a novel and help me with her hair.”
“One of these days, I won’t be around to do your daughter’s hair for you. So, you gotta do it yourself,” Jeonghan replied.
“Don’t be so cold,” Seungcheol frowned.
“I’m being realistic.”
“Where are you even planning on going?” Seungcheol asked, pulling Ara back as she attempted to crawl away.
“I want to get married and have children too, Seungcheol.”
Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “You? Okay, Mr. Novelist. Have fun with that.”
“I hate the lack of faith in your voice.”
“Your ability to stick to one lover is about as good as my ability to tie Ara’s hair,” Seungcheol said, sighing in resignation as he let Ara run off.
“That is very rude, I hope you know that,” Jeonghan said. “I would like to think I’m at least better than you being able to tie Ara’s hair.”
Seungcheol scowled at Jeonghan.
“You started it.”
It was true. Seungcheol sighed in resignation.
“So, you really think it won’t happen?”
“You getting settled?”
“No, you idiot, I’m talking about with that daycare teacher. You don’t think you two will click?”
“No…I doubt it,” Seungcheol shook his head.
“Is she cute at least?”
Seungcheol frowned. He thought about it. Were you cute? He wasn’t sure. He had only been looking at his daughter…but if he thought back to the night at the police station and as you stood outside, watching them pull out of the parking lot then… “Yeah. She’s pretty.”
“I asked if she’s cute, not if she’s pretty.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Yeah, kinda. Pretty feels like there’s a distance but cute sounds more like you guys are close.”
“Then why would I call her cute? I’ve only talked to her twice.”
“It’s been two weeks since you first took Ara to daycare and you’ve only talked to the teacher twice?!”
“Yes.”
“Why bother filling me in on these details then?”
“You asked me if you missed anything while you were gone,” Seungcheol replied a matter-of-factly.
Jeonghan sighed. “You’re right. Of course. Why do I even bother arguing with you?”
Seungcheol smiled at his friend. “Besides, who knows? Maybe she’s already got a lover or something.”
“Look at you. Putting yourself in a cage before she’s even had the chance to bait you. This is why, Choi Seungcheol, you’re not going to find another girlfriend.”
“I’m fine with that.”
“You don’t want Ara to have a mother?”
“You could have been her mother. You looked very beautiful with long hai—ouch.”
Jeonghan stared blankly at Seungcheol, his hand folding back against his chest. “Sorry, my hand slipped.”
Seungcheol picked up Jeonghan’s book and placed it on the coffee table. “Yeah? Thanks for that.”
“And I’m being serious, Seungcheol. I really do worry about you. Is that your preference? Men? I’ll find someone for you. I know a couple.”
“Just give it a rest, Jeonghan. I’m just not interested in anyone. I don’t want to be in a relationship.”
“Alright.” There was a pause. “Just tell me your preference at least—”
“I don’t have a preference.”
Jeonghan stared at Seungcheol blankly before readjusting his position on the couch. “Fine, I’ll stop.”
The summer heat was sweltering. It was probably the hottest summer of your life and you’d much rather stay indoors, but here you were, outside in the heat, watching as your little brother put the last of his bags into the car.
“You have everything?” you asked, a frown on your face as your little brother nodded. “Are you even going to be okay with our uncle?
“Y/N, it’s Seongwoo. When will I ever be okay with him?” Jiho asked, raising an eyebrow.
You gave him an unamused look that was quickly wiped off as Jiho pulled you into a hug. You smiled. “Alright, buddy, come on now. You’re going to miss your flight.”
Jiho pulled back, his lips pressed into a straight line. “You’re going to be okay right? None of our family is going to be here this summer…”
“I’ll be fine! And it’s not the entire summer. You’re always calling me an old lady but you don’t think I’m old enough to take care of myself?”
“I dunno. You’re usually pretty clumsy. And you’re moving into a new neighborhood too…”
“I’ll be fine, Jiho. Just have fun on your exchange program and come home safely.”
Jiho nodded and gave you one last hug before hopping into the car.
“Call me when you get there, alright?”
Jiho nodded again and the car pulled out, leaving you standing alone.
You sighed and swiftly turned back into your apartment, packing the rest of your things for the big move tomorrow.
You had been questioned on and off again why you had decided to move and the answer was simple; you wanted to be closer to work. If you were closer to work, you’d save money on gas and the area around where you worked was friendly and convenient. There wouldn’t be the loud, partying neighbors that came with a college town that valued the night life more than they valued sleep. And the traffic would be better.
It wasn’t because of some terrible, life issue that led you to this choice. It was just one of the natural things and you had always been one to follow the natural course of life rather than making big decisions.
So, when the day came for you to pack yours and your brother’s things into the back of a moving truck and drive an hour and a half to your new home, you didn’t bother taking one last sweep around your apartment. Your new apartment would be nicer and cleaner and larger. You weren’t sure about your neighbors but you hoped they would be something along those lines as well.
Your apartment was nice. Even with all your furniture, it seemed as if there would be lots of room once you packed away your things. That was good. Jiho had always complained about the lack of space before.
As you went down to grab the last of your boxes, you watched as the door next to yours opened. A handsome young man, looking like he was in his early twenties, came out. He wore a large, slouched shirt and rounded glasses as well as a pair of joggers. His hair was a dark brown and when he looked at you, you could see the bags under his eyes.
“Hello,” you greeted, realizing only after the fact that you had.
“Ah…hello,” he replied with a slight wave of his hand. He glanced at your open door and the boxes around your apartment. “Just moved in?”
“U-um, yes! I have. My name’s Y/N.”
“Jeonghan,” he shook your hand though his expression still remained neutral. “I don’t actually live here.”
“Oh, then…”
“Your neighbor is at work,” Jeonghan replied. “And I just happen to sleep here often. It’s much more convenient to live with another person.”
“But you just said you don’t live here?”
“He won’t let me live here,” Jeonghan said, blinking hard as if he were trying to force his eyes to stay open. He yawned again before bowing a fraction, “Well, then.”
You watched as he trailed to the elevator, a slouch to his shoulders as he headed to a lower floor. You stared at where he was and turned back to the boxes that you still needed to move in. What an odd fellow.
You had finished unpacking most of the boxes by the time it was nearly eleven at night and you heard chatter just outside the door. You moved curiously, pressing your ear against the door. Was it an argument? No, it was just loud chatter. You recognized the voice of Jeonghan and a man you weren’t familiar with along with a girlish voice. A child, most likely.
You pulled yourself away from the door and yawned, stretching as you trudged to the bathroom.  Perhaps you’ll run into them at a later time. For now, you could only think about the warm bath that would soon await you.
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