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alice-smutthoughts · 2 years

Text

Strawberry

Wakasa x AFAB!reader

All characters 21+

Minors DNI

CW: explicit smut, swearing, name calling, rough/manhandling, spanking

You just got off the plane from Paris and were walking out the gate when you saw Mikey and Draken with a big “WELCOME BACK” sign.

“Alice here here over here!”

Mikey yelled as if you didn’t see them. You ran up to the two and pulled them into a big hug. It had been 4 years since you left Japan to study to be a pastry chef in Paris. During those years you never failed to text your childhood friends every night.

“Bo no chu ro”

Mikey sounded out.

“Huh? Do you mean Bonjour?”

He laughed.

“Ya ya that!”

Draken lifted your bag as you walked with them out of the airport. You told them about your trip home and how much you missed Japan. As you got into Draken’s car you realized they weren’t driving you to your old house. They turned a few corners and ended up in front of an adorable bakery. As they pulled in you noted the name “Wonderland”.

The three of you walked in and you were shocked when confetti blew up in your face.

“Surprise!”

A bunch of guys jumped out. Some were old friends from childhood, Mitsuya, Kazutora, others you knew from Toman who tagged along with Mikey. A few new faces peered down at you. A pink haired man with scarred lips stood next to two men with matching droopy eyes. The taller one with braided hair winked at you and you blushed. As you continued to look around you noticed a somewhat familiar face. A tired looking man sat slouched on a chair, lollipop hanging from his mouth. You remember seeing him a few times around Shinichiro when you used to come over to play with Mikey. Waka-something. You turned to Mikey and Draken confused.

“What’s going on?”

You wondered.

Draken laughed.

“Isn’t it obvious? Welcome to your new bakery.”

You were frozen in place. This was all yours? You looked around in wonder. Everything was decorated so beautifully. Chairs shaped like chess pieces sat atop a marble black and white checkered floor. There were trailing vines along the walls with climbing roses surrounding the counter. An antique cupboard sat in the corner filled with mismatched porcelain tea sets. It looked just like the cafe you drew when you were a kid. Back when you dreamt of creating your own wonderland where you and the boys could escape all your worries.

“So whatcha think?”

Mikey smiled.

“Thank you! I can’t believe you still remember. How did you even afford this?”

Mikey rubbed the back of his head guiltily.

“Ah don’t ask.”

You glanced at him and Draken. You knew they were still mixed up in some pretty sketchy stuff since you were kids but you never knew the exact details.

“Anyway Miss Baker make us something! Can’t have a party without cake.”

Kazutora slung an arm around your shoulder. You let out a laugh.

“Okay okay let me show you what I’ve been doing these past four years.”

You moved into the fully stocked kitchen and found the ingredients to make a rich devils food cake with raspberry ganache. While you prepped, the guys chatted with each other. Every once in a while someone would pop into the kitchen to lick a spatula or steal some chocolate. As you were working on frosting the cake the man with the lollipop entered the kitchen. He peered down at you.

“I finished my candy. Got anything sweet I can snack on?”

You smiled and gave him the spoon you were using to portion the frosting. His eyes seemed to sparkle for a moment as he replaced the lollipop stick with the spoon. He grinned at you.

“ ‘s good.”

You blushed under his intense stare. You were never great with boys always hiding behind Mikey or Draken when you were kids.

“Um you were Shin’s friend right? I think I’ve seen you at Mikey’s house before.”

The man nodded.

“Wakasa.”

He stated. You nodded along with him and tried to focus on the cake.

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

After everyone had a piece of cake and you finished cleaning up Draken offered to drive you home. After you moved to Paris your parents decided it was time for them to fully enjoy their retirement. They booked trips around the world and were constantly travelling. They had a visited you a few times in Paris when they were adventuring through Europe. Your childhood home still remained since they knew you had plans to return to Tokyo eventually. When Draken dropped you off you gave him and Mikey another big hug.

“Thank you so much. I will never be able to repay you for my dream bakery but I will never stop try — ”

Mikey cut you off by ruffling your hair.

“Don’t be so serious. Why would you ever need to repay us? Just make me some dorayaki next time I visit okay?”

You laughed.

“Yeah.”

After you unpacked and showered you quickly fell asleep, tired after the long flight.

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

A few weeks had passed. Your bakery was very successful with your pastries and cakes selling out almost every day. The few treats you had left you would bring over to Mikey to share with the other members of Bonten.

The bell of the front door rang and you looked up. Wakasa was standing in the doorway looking around.

“Hey. Mikey said you’d have some dorayaki for him today.”

You nodded and went to grab the parcel you had put aside. Mikey had been hounding you all week for Dorayaki. This was the third day in a row Wakasa had come by to pickup his boss’ favourite treat.

“Oh before you go I made you some cookies.”

You handed him a small bag with sugar cookies cut and decorated to look like little lollipops.

“I found these cookie cutters at a shop the other day and it made me think of you.”

Wakasa looked down at the cookies then smirked at you.

“You were thinking of me? Cute. ”

Your face flushed red.

“Ah no I mean cause you always have lollipops and I know you like sweets and I figured Mikey would send you again to pick up dorayaki cause it’s his favourite treat even though he shouldn’t eat them everyday cause he’ll feel sick but he never listens so I knew he’d come get more some time this week and when I saw these I thought maybe you’d like them.”

You stumbled over your words clearly flustered. Wakasa laughed lightly. The gentle sound made your heart flutter.

“Thanks. They look good.”

You bowed your head slightly.

“Thank you. Ah you’re welcome too I mean it’s no problem.”

You blushed harder as you struggled to talk.

“As my thanks I’ll bring you out for dinner tonight. I’ll come by your house at 7.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement. He balanced the packages under his arm and turned leaving you sputtering and blushing.

As soon as he left you texted Your group chat.

A: I think I just got asked on a date

K: awww little Alice’s first date

A: don’t be a jerk Kazu I’ve been on a date!

K: “a” date :D

D: stop teasing her

K: boo you’re no fun

M: give us his name we’ll check to see if he’s a creep

A: I mean you seem to like him so I don’t think he’s a creep

D: huh????

K: who is it?!?!

M: wait what

Read

You closed your phone before the boys could bombard you with more questions. Although Kazutora teased you, it wasn’t far from the truth. You had been asked out plenty of times but always got flustered and ended up rejecting them. Your last date had been at least four years ago, before you left Japan. Your parents hounded you about men in Paris but you insisted you were there to study and that was it. And over those four years you kept true to your word. Your only goal was to graduate and return home to Japan so you would relentlessly study and practice at all hours.

After you took a quick shower and dried your hair you slipped into a pastel lavendar dress with short sleeves. You took your time painting your lips a pretty red shade and dusting on some eyeshadow. You slipped on your flats and waited by your front door.

As you stepped into the lovely Japanese restaurant, Wakasa eyed your dress. He brushed the fabric between his fingers.

“This colour looks good.”

He mumbled. Wakasa liked how the colour matched his eyes. It made him feel like you were marked as his.

“Thank you.”

You sat across from each other chatting and you felt yourself ease into his presence. He took you to a fancy restaurant that had a set menu. Each piece of sushi was made by the chef standing at the table next to yours and put in front of you. Every bite was delicious and reminded you how much you missed good Japanese food. Wakasa leaned on his hand and smiled watching you enjoy yourself. He asked you questions and was content to listen to you ramble about things that excited you. By the end of the dinner you felt as comfortable around him as you did around Mikey and Draken. After he paid and you thanked the chef the two of you waited outside for the valet.

Maybe it was the drinks with dinner that made you bold but you decided you were going to invite Wakasa in. As he walked you to your door you started to get nervous.

“Um ah thank you for the dinner. It was really wonderful. I haven’t had a date in a long time. Oh, I hope I wasn’t assuming. I mean you said you’d bring me for dinner as a thank you. But I thought that was what people say when they invite others on a date. But now that I’m saying it out loud maybe I misinterpreted. I hope I didn’t make you uncomforta—”

He cut off your panicked rambling by pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and his lips tasted sweet like the candy he had been eating in the car. He pulled back and smirked at your blushing face.

“Does that answer your question?”

You nodded.

“Um would you like to come in?”

You hesitated not wanting to be too forward. He followed you inside shrugging off his coat and removing his shoes. You brought him to the living room and went to get water from the connecting kitchen. When you came back he was lounging on the sofa lazily flipping through Netflix. He looked up at you and patted the seat next to him. You sheepishly sat down leaving some space between you two. He laughed lightly.

“Don’t get all embarrassed on me now.”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you while leaning back so you rested against his chest. A movie started playing but you couldn’t focus on anything besides Wakasa. He rested his chin over your head.

“This okay?”

He gently questioned. You nodded even as you felt your head was going to explode. After laying against Wakasa for a while you started to get more comfortable and finally noticed the movie. In was an old horror movie that you mentioned you liked. He had never seen it and you explained how it was a black and white film full of cheesy special effects and fake blood. It was a movie that always made you laugh and even now despite knowing the storyline you still laughed at the overly expressive faces and excessively fake gore.

Wakasa enjoyed hearing you laugh. He had never been with a girl like you. Sweet. Gentle. He usually picked up girls from bars and had one night stands. But with you he just liked being around you. He wanted to see you smile and be the one to comfort you when you cried. He wanted all those stupid things he’d make fun of Shin for wanting. And he loved making you blush. He thought it was cute when you’d stutter and ramble when you were nervous. And the sadistic part of him wanted to tease you and watch you stumble to respond. It was just too cute.

Wakasa started sucking on another lollipop when he looked down at you to see you were really focused on the movie. Your mouth was slightly open mid laugh and he got an idea. He slowly took the candy out of his mouth and popped it into yours. You were so into the movie that you simply accepted the lollipop without a second thought. He suddenly laughed scaring you.

“What’s funny?”

You looked at him curiously. He tried to cover his mouth but another laugh escaped.

“Strawberry.”

With that one word you suddenly became aware of the candy in your mouth.

“Ah when did you?”

He bursted out laughing. Your face flushed and you gently pushed at his chest.

“Ha you were ha ha you were just so into the movie. I couldn’t help it.”

He explained between laughs.

“Don’t tease me this movie is a masterpiece!”

His laughing calmed down and he smiled at you.

“Sorry sorry lemme make it up to ya.”

He removed the candy and placed a kiss against your mouth. His tongue poked out and licked your lips enjoying the artificial strawberry taste. You let out a surprised squeak as he nipped at your bottom lip. He pulled away leaving you breathless.

“Still upset doll?”

You blinked up at him staring at the smudged red lipstick on his mouth. You wanted to kiss him more. He made you feel bold and not like the timid girl that could never initiate anything. You closed the distance and crashed your lips onto his. He dropped the candy onto the coffee table and slid his hand behind your neck. He gently encouraged you to lean more into the kiss. His mouth opened slightly and he pushed his tongue against your lips asking for entrance. When you opened your mouth he immediately started to explore. His hand moved up and tightened in your hair causing you to let out a moan. You were panting against him. Barely able to breath with the way he kissed you so roughly. You had never been kissed like this before. With such intensity you were sure your knees would buckle if you were standing.

Wakasa’s other hand slid down your back pulling the zipper of your dress. His hand was scalding against your skin. Everywhere he touched felt like it was on fire. As he unclipped your bra you let out a gasp. He pressed open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. His hands moved to your breasts cupping them gently before brushing over your nipples. You arched into his touch letting out breathy sighs. He suddenly pulled away and instructed you to take off your dress. You were left in just your silky black panties when he pulled you down to him. You felt his hard length beneath you and you felt a mixture of pride and shyness. He suddenly grabbed your ass and ground you against him. You let out a surprised noise which seemed to spur him on more. He sucked dark marks into your neck and continued to rock your hips against his.

“Tell me t’stop if you’re scared.”

That was the final warning you got before Wakasa picked you up and brought you to your bedroom. You were sat on his lap facing your mirror. He continued to lick and suck the side of your neck while his hand travelled down to play with your covered pussy.

“W-wait ah! It’s embarassing.”

Wakasa paused as you tried to close your legs. He slapped the inside of your thighs and you let out a whimper. You let your legs fall open again.

“Good girl.”

You melted at his praise. He moved your panties to the side sliding his finger over your dripping pussy.

“S’wet. Did you get all excited just from a little touchin?”

You simply moaned in response and Wakasa clicked his tongue.

“I asked you a question.”

You shivered at his demanding tone. You had only ever experienced vanilla sex with little to no dirty talk. You really liked the sound of Wakasa’s normally relaxed voice talking down to you.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes I got excited from just t-touching.”

Your face flushed from being forced to say such dirty things.

“Hmm is this turning you on? You act all innocent but do Mikey and Draken know you’re really a little slut? Maybe I should send them a video of you like this, with your pussy out on display. I bet they’d be surprised to see their little y/n all fucked out.”

He teased while spreading your pussy lips.

“Please don’t send it to them.”

“You gonna be good then?”

You nodded.

“Hold your legs open.”

Your hands shook as you gripped underneath your thighs and held yourself open. You could see yourself in the mirror. Your pupils were blown wide and your neck and chest had dark bite marks scattered all over. Your eyes met Wakasa’s in the mirror. His long fingers wrapped around your jaw and tilted your face to the side. He bit down on your exposed neck. His other hand trailed down your abdomen until it reached your cunt. He started rubbing his palm against your heat, spreading your slick around. You felt his bulge rub against your ass and your body twitched. Wakasa slowly pushed two fingers into you, observing your face the entire time. The room filled with squelching as he started to piston his fingers into you.

“Fuck. Such a good little pussy. Suck’n my fingers in.”

He curled his fingers up and pressed against a spot that made your hips buck forward.

“Like that pretty?”

“Y-yes.”

You groaned as he continued to abuse that spot.

“Look.”

He tilted your head so that you were staring into your reflection. Your tongue hung out and drool dripped from the sides of your lips.

“Such a little whore. You gonna cum f’me?”

You tried to nod but his grip on your jaw kept your head in place. He continued to rub his fingers over that sweet spot and his thumb moved up to play with your clit. you let out a high pitched whine. You could feel yourself getting close. Your hold on your legs started to shake and your body pulsed.

“Ah W-wakasa! I’m gonna cum. Mm please.”

You begged and he sped up. A few more deep thrusts and you were convulsing. Your legs clamped shut as you came all over his fingers. Your eyes rolled up into your head and you let out broken moans along with his name. He grinned as your hands scrabbled around trying to stop him from moving more.

“Hands off. ‘M not done with you.”

Your head was fuzzy as you tried to obey him, hands moving to grip the sheets instead. He continued to thrust his fingers into your drooling cunt. You started to feel something else build up.

“Ah ah wait. It’s too much.”

As you moved to stop his hand he gripped both of your wrists and held them above your head.

“C’mon pretty girl. You can do it.”

You shook your head. It was all so much. You felt so full with his fingers reaching deep inside you. Your neck was hot where he breathed against it. His grip on your wrists felt suffocating. But at the same time everything felt so good. It felt like he was everywhere. Suddenly something snapped inside of you. You let out a scream as you squirted onto the bed. The sound of splashing echoed in the room as he continued to coax you through your high, lazily thrusting his fingers into your soaked hole.

“Good fucking girl.”

He sighed into your ear and pressed a sweet kiss to your temple. You let out a small whimper.

“Did such a good job.”

He praised and you slumped back against his chest. Your legs trembled and your cunt continued to twitch from the aftershocks. Wakasa carefully moved your body so you could lie down on the bed. You looked up and met his eyes, still dazed. Your hands reached out to cup the sides of his face and pulled him down for a soft kiss.

“Still want you Wakasa.”

You mumbled against his lips. He let out a low groan as he felt himself get harder, if that was even possible.

“Greedy slut. You messy cunt is still cumming and you’re already begging for more.”

“P-please. Wanna make you feel good too.”

“Hmm. You gonna let me use your tight pussy to get off?”

“Yes. Use me.”

You weren’t even sure what you were begging for at this point. All you knew is that he made you feel good and you wanted more.

“Get in your hands n’ knees.”

You started to move but it wasn’t fast enough. Wakasa flipped you onto your stomach and pulled your hips so your ass was in the air. You heard the sound of him unbuckling his belt and you stared as he pulled his shirt off. Your back arched and you hid your face in the pillows as he started to push his cock into you. Your fists balled up the sheets and your pussy squeezed as his cock stretched you out.

“Shit. Prepped you so much and you’re still this fucking tight. Relax for me.”

You tried to breathe but it felt like you were getting split in half. Your body finally relaxed when he bottomed out. The rest only lasted a few moments as he started to grind his hips against you. Once he felt your body loosen up he pulled your arms behind your back and started to pound into you. Your tits bounced to the rhythm of his thrusts and you let out moan after moan. Suddenly Wakasa wrapped his hand around the front of your neck and squeezed. You let out ragged pants as your hands fell back to the bed.

"Like that pretty? Want me to choke you out while I fuck you?"

You tried to say yes but his grip on your throat made it come out garbled.

"So dirty. I can feel you clenching around me."

His other hand came down hard on your ass and you let out a surprised yelp. The spot stung but you wanted him to keep going. You pushed back trying to force him deeper into you.

"Fuck. So good."

He dropped his hands to your hips and pounded himself deeper into you. You felt your orgasm building up again.

"Mmm h-harder Wakasa. Please. Faster a-ah."

You cried out as he rubbed tight circles around your clit. He let out a deep groan as your pussy started to flutter arouhnd his length.

"S-shit. Yeah, just like that."

He growled into the back of your neck. A few more hard thrusts and you came around his cock. Your body spasmed and you were held up only by his grip on your hips. He continued to thrust into you as you jerked around in his hold. He let out a grunt.

"Gonna cum."

That was your only warning as he spilled his cum deep into your cunt. His head fell forward to rest on your shoulder as you both let out harsh pants.

"You okay?"

He questioned, brushing your hair out of your face.

"Yeah. Tired."

You mumbled as you came down from your high. He let out a ligh chuckle and slipped out of you. A mixture of his cum and your slick dripped out onto the sheets.

"Lemme get you cleaned up and then you can rest okay?"

You nodded, eyes already closing. Wakasa got up to get you a towel and gently cleaned you. He was careful not to rub too hard on your sensitive skin. After he cleaned you up he looked through your dresser to pull out a pajama shirt and he helped you slip it on.

"Are you going to leave?"

You questioned, suddenly worried. He cupped your face in his hands and softly kissed you.

"You'll have to drag me outta here if you want to get rid of me. Now that you're mine I'm never letting you go."

You smiled at that and moved over so he could get under the blankets with you. You tucked yourself against his chest and he ran his fingers through your hair.

"G'night."

He whispered after your breathing steadied and he slowly drifted to sleep next to you.

#wakasa smut #wakasa scenarios #wakasa x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #bonten smut #wakasa imaushi #smut #tokyorev smut #tokyo rev #imaushi wakasa x reader #tokrev wakasa #wakasa x y/n

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panvani · 3 years

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Mochizuki Jun The Case Study of Vanitas Anime da Vinci Interview - pt. 1 -

An interview with MochiJun about Vanitas was uploaded to Anime da Vinci, and while I’d seen a lot of partial translations, I haven’t spotted a full one. This is my attempt. Corrections and suggestions are gladly accepted. The link to the original is at ddnavi, appended with interview/808972/a/. Since the interview is pretty long, I’ll be breaking it up into three parts.

The opening paragraphs of the article are just the same summary/promotional lines from every other official Vanitas source, so I won’t bother translating them again.

To summarize its contents: Mochizuki talks about inspiration for Vanitas and her time in Paris, how she wants to make people want to go to Paris, and a little spoiler.

She conceived the character of “Vanitas” during her first trip to France...

- Please tell us the details of how The Case Study of Vanitas was born. What kind of idea created this work?

Mochizuki Jun: Aahh, how far should I go back... ahaha...? For my next work [after Pandora Hearts] I’d been thinking, “I want to draw either vampires or a school setting~” and I conceived the character of “Vanitas” during my first trip to France. While sightseeing in Mont Saint-Michel, I mused on drawing “the story of a single vampire who’d watched over an island for something like one hundred years.” Everything else about The Case Study of Vanitas came from that one idea, and the general forms of Vanitas and Noé were born there.

MJ: There were a ton of things I thought about doing for my new serialization after Pandora Hearts, like increasing the number of romance and battle elements. With regards to battle scenes... to be honest, when I was drawing Pandora Hearts, the head editor told me to cut down on them since “you kind of suck at this,” and I wanted to give up. I started thinking, though, like “I don’t draw them so of course they suck! If I drew them more, they’d be good!” and frantically studied to improve with every volume. I have to get way better at anatomy and the composition of fight scenes in comparison to my last work... is what I thought.

- What drew you to vampires in particular? If there are any vampire stories you especially like, please tell us.

MJ: I don’t remember exactly what the first vampire I ever saw was, but when I was little I was really impacted by the movie Interview with the Vampire [based on the novel by Anne Rice.] When I watched it, I was captivated by the tragic and fleeting existence of vampires, as well as the blood sucking scenes, so those ideas were planted firmly in my mind. Plus, it probably had an effect on my fondness for stories with a dynamic between a young man and a girl. This is a little off-topic, but it’s actually where I got the name for the Crimson-Shell protagonist. [The two main characters of Interview with the Vampire are Louis du Pont, a young vampire man, and his adoptive daughter Claudia.]

- Why did you choose to set the story in 19th century Paris? What sort of impression did your first visit to Paris leave?

MJ: Paris was the first place I’d ever visited outside of Japan, so I thought it was huge. I’d been invited as a guest to Japan Expo, and my heart wouldn’t stop pounding the entire time I was on the plane. Everything I saw seemed so new. Noé and I shared our kind of joy for Paris.

MJ: Since then, when taking personal trips overseas, I’d pay really frequent visit to this on-site publishing house in Paris. Their accompaniment for every question or problem I had when it came to any aspect of French culture was really helpful. Since I’d been so blessed to have them, I was able to go into writing ready, thinking “yeah, I’m gonna draw a manga set in France!”

- Yamaguchi Ryuu-san, who got his start designing for Final Fantasy, produced some fantastic drawings of the Paris Catacombs and Notre Dame Cathedral for The Case Study of Vanitas. That being said, it’s interesting how your Paris has not the Eiffel Tower, but a huge “Tower of the Sun” in construction to conflict with the real Paris. Please tell us about any difficulties you’ve experienced when drawing Paris.

MJ: I’m always troubled by the balance between “where I should stay true to the Paris of this time,” and “where I should create a false Paris.” I’d be super happy if this manga made someone take the chance to go to Paris. So, I had a strong passion to invite favoritism for Paris, and wanted that “the manga backgrounds should be the same as Paris!” There are falsehoods in my Paris, but the designs were taken from the real, present day world.

- With such names as the unresolved Beast of Gévaudan Incident, the Marquis de Sade, and Dr. Moreau, never before has Paris been made to adopt such an uncanny and bewitching atmosphere. If you have anything that might be a little bit of a spoiler, please let use hear it.

MJ: The Paladins of the Catholic Church draw their motif from the legend of Charlemagne. The characters from Vanitas aren’t actually the same people as those in the legend, but I like to play around with the shared relationship dynamics and character traits. [”Paladins” refer to the twelve highest ranking Knights of Charlemagne from French mythology collected in what is known as the Matter of France- the most famous of these stories is called the Song of Roland.]

MJ: Then, all of the Malnomen have their motifs taken from fairy tales or famous works of fiction [i.e. Loup Garou, based on Little Red Riding Hood, and Naenia, based on the story of Faust.] At first I thought “well, it’s set in France, so I’ll limit myself to stories documented by Charles Perrault,” but by the second volume I’d expanded my boundaries to the Brothers Grimm and was getting my hands on other stories too.

Pt. 2 here.

Pt. 3 here.

#the case study of vanitas #vanitas no carte #jun mochizuki #animanga #logxx #logam

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thevibraniumveterans · 3 years

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Tony Leung: “[Wenwu] isn’t a villain at all!”

On September 6, 2021, Tony Leung sat down with Hong Kong actress Carol “Dodo” Cheng for an interview about life, sports, and of course, his latest Hollywood outing as a widower who grieved the death of his beloved wife and a father who “didn’t know how to love [his children]” in Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings.

Interview is originally in Cantonese, and has been translated into English.

FULL TRANSCRIPT BELOW:

Today I'm really pleased to interview Tony Leung Chiu-Wai. The last time I really chatted with you in earnest was... Do you remember? In 2013.

I think that time I was with...

We were on a plane together.

At the mall? On a plane?

We arrived in Hong Kong, and went to some awards ceremony. We were waiting for our luggage, exchanged a few words. That was 2013, and we haven’t met since. Where did we meet up next? I’m sure you won’t remember. It was here in Hong Kong. I was surprised by you. I usually go to the supermarket, very early in the morning. Because there's no-one there.

Yeah.

I saw you there.

I think that was probably it. Not too crowded in the morning.

You too. Why so early in the morning?

To... buy food. I usually wake up at 6am. I’d exercise until about 10am-ish, and then I’d…

Go for a walk.

Shower, then shop for food. I usually eat quite simply— it’s either salad, or buckwheat noodles. Salad doesn't stay fresh very well. So I’d get up early in the morning, shop for what I like, and prepare it at home.

Have you been eating healthy all this time?

I’m not doing this particularly for my health. I get an upset stomach easily. I get food poisoning very easily. And it’s miserable having food poisoning! When you’re at work, others don’t know how bad you’re having it. But you can’t tell-- you can’t convey that.

Alright, at this point it’s time for a nostalgia trip. We used to be colleagues, and we’ve shot TV series together. At that time, did you feel that you could eat whenever and not have to sleep… When did you start prioritising your health?

When did it start? I think it would have been… at least 20 years ago. Because it’s miserable being sick while on set. You’ve got to keep working. Even when I had a fever, (producer) Wong Kar-Wai would say, “No, it’s the last day, you’ve got to make it.” So I would work with a fever!

It’s good that everyone's health-conscious now, and wants to avoid falling ill. So when I was preparing for this interview, some friends told me, They’d seen you and me do an interview, from many years ago. I don’t think you’d remember. We’re talking many years ago - decades here! You were really young at the time. At the TV station you were a rising star, a top male lead actor. So I interviewed you. I asked you a question, and I don’t know if you remember how you answered. I asked, “Have you thought about retirement?” You did give me an answer at the time. Do you remember at what age you said you’d retire?

I really don’t remember. I’m sure retirement was always on my mind then.

You were in your 20s then, not quite 30. You told me— “I will definitely retire at 36!”

[laughter]

What changed your mind?

I believe that when I started out as an actor, it was certainly hard work when I was just starting out. But I thought, I wouldn’t get to where I am today without going through tough times. But as I slowly grew as a person, my perspectives and values have changed. I feel more at ease. So I wouldn’t think in extremes like I did before. I think that in the past 10, 20… 10 years? I've become a more relaxed person. I wouldn’t just say, “now I’ll retire.” If I want to keep going, I will.

This is your favourite line of work, isn’t it?

Except sport.

Could you imagine yourself in any other career? I can’t.

I’d be a sportsperson.

A sportsperson, playing what?

I play a lot of sports. I like mountain biking, sailing, water skiing, surfing… I’m up for anything.

You really like water sports, don’t you?

It’s hot in Hong Kong, and summer takes up most of the year. What’s more refreshing than being in the water?

How about in winter?

I’d still be in the water, wearing long sleeves.

You wouldn’t take up running?

I don’t particularly like it… I can’t seem to find much variety in running. I like to interact with nature directly. There’s something new every day. Take sailing, for example. Every day is different, the weather changes.

Your body is in a different condition every day.

You're working with the changing conditions. You end up building up a lot of knowledge. You learn about nature, the weather, changes in conditions. The water, currents, what do you call it... Hot weather warms the ocean and you’ll have gusts of wind. I didn’t know all this. But the more I sailed, the more I thought,“This is great!”

You’ve got a real passion for this.

I do.

What have you been up to during the pandemic? It’s been 1— almost 2 years, hasn't it?

I was filming in 2 movies… And... flying here and there.

Do you need to quarantine?

Quarantine! Countless times.

We’ve talked for so long, let’s come back to this film, Shang-Chi. I believe Tony has received endless invitations to appear in overseas films. Why did you choose this film?

I didn't really... I believe it’s fate to be involved in certain films. I can’t just want to act in some type of film, then get it. An opportunity comes up, but sometimes the director might not like me, or I might not like the screenplay. Or I might like the director, but I don’t like the character. So you can’t just make this sort of thing happen. I think sometimes the time will be just right and things will happen. The director may like me, and I like the project, or I like the director. Or I might want to try something in particular. It takes a lot, a combination of factors, for something to happen.

It's like a piece of furniture, isn't it? The pieces need to be joined precisely.

Yes.

How were you scouted for this movie? How were you approached?

The director approached me, wanted to have a chat with me. So I...

What's your requirements for taking on a film? Do you need to read through the whole screenplay?

That would be best. It would.

You would've been in many films without a solid screenplay, wouldn't you?

There would still be an idea.

An overview of sorts.

But this movie... You know Marvel is very secretive. At the beginning, I was in a video conference call with the director. What he could tell me at the time was, "You're going to be the main villain. Your character has many layers." Then I asked, "do I need to fight?" "No, because you have those rings." So I said, "then I'll definitely be fine." That was all.

What about that drew you in? Being the main villain?

That was one of the draws. In the past few years, I wanted to try characters different to those I'd played previously.

Why do all actors who have played male leads want to go off and play villains?

Actually... there's more complexity to them. I feel like there's a different mindset between playing a protagonist and an antagonist. I've acted for 30-something years. It's about time I did something different.

So you're in, you're headed to the shoot, and you're now the main villain! What's the mindset behind this?

Oh, not for this film. I thought I was the villain at first. A month before the shoot, I read the script. I didn't think this character was a villain at all. There was a real human side to this villain. Perhaps Marvel was hoping to portray a villain from a different angle this time around. So I was puzzled. Initially I was expecting, "Ooh, a villain, this will be fun", but when I looked at the script, "no, this isn't a villain at all!"

Very sentimental?

Yes, and a lot of humanity.

You thought it would be easy playing a villain.

I didn't think it would be easy.

You didn't think there would be so much emotion.

I didn't think it would be easy. I thought there would be more evil in him. I read the script and thought, "oh no, he's not evil at all", And that's difficult to portray. How would you let the audience... and I thought, "wow it's as if he's a good guy?" I read through the script and couldn't find the evil in this character.

How would you portray this character? Was the director able to help you?

The director...

Or did he put a lot of trust in you?

I rarely... He put a lot of trust in me, and I don't discuss with the director often. I thought, what's the use of discussing? I could just act it out. You can be really idealistic when you discuss. I would rather do more... When I arrived, Destin would ask me, "Do you want to talk it out?" and I would say no.

Was there a read-through?

No, no read-through.

You went straight to shooting?

Yes, straight to the shoot.

Then it would be like, "Tony, stand here, in this shot do this and that, and you'd do it?

Yeah. It was kind of like that. We filmed the action scenes first. So there was time to warm up. Then the dramatic parts. I like the drama most. I felt the most excited during these parts. The action scenes were particularly tough, because it was summer in Australia then.

Did you need to train?

I did. At first I was told I didn't need to fight. Then when I got there— wow, there's so many action scenes! So I scrambled and...

But you've got those rings. You can just throw the rings.

Sure, but there's still some action involved. Because I didn't physically prepare beforehand, it was rather tough at first. I got used to it as the shoot went on, but the weather was still hot. And there were period costumes, so it was tough at first.

So there was a sequence, they filmed all the action scenes first, and then scenes with dialogue afterwards, is that right?

I think they deliberately scheduled this so I could warm up a little. So I wouldn't need to dive straight into very intense dialogue.

There are a lot of actors involved, right? Your character has a son, too. Is this the first time you're portraying a dad?

Would it be my first time...

Or you have, but not for a much older son?

Yes, not for a much older son. I had a child in “The Grandmaster” as well. But not that old, no.

How would you portray the emotions of a father-son relationship? Because your character didn't know his son.

It was manageable. In this movie, the father-- not that he didn't love his children. He didn't know how to love them. This character doesn't even know how to love himself. The love was from his wife, portrayed by Fala Chen, He found love in this woman. But he doesn't know how to love others. So he was very distant from his children, his sons— his daughters were pretty much ignored. He was a father figure who preferred sons over daughters, a rather... traditional father archetype. Almost the old-fashioned type.

In shooting this movie, what was most difficult for you?

The action scenes.

Do you do all these scenes yourself?

I try to, but they wouldn't let us do the really dangerous ones. If you're injured, who's going to replace you?

Sure.

But I try to do as much as I'm able.

You'd need to rehearse the scenes with everyone.

Of course. Once we arrived, they arranged for Fala, my son, played by Simu, and my daughter... like you and I used to, we would all practice in the studio.

How long were the working hours?

It was 10 working hours a day, but we went all the way through that. There was no break in between.

Really? I thought you would be sitting comfortably in your trailer?

No! We filmed a lot every day! You know how that made me felt? It felt like I was in my TV days again.

Really?

You'll think, "will we get through this much filming today?" And by the end of the day, you would. But it was very intense. Perhaps they didn't want us to have a break, because we'd have to disperse and regroup. So we went all the way through. Once we arrived in the studio, it was full steam ahead. There was no meal break, because there was always...

No meal break?

No.

I've never heard of a Hollywood film shoot without meal breaks.

There's food throughout the day. Catering comes around, and we'd just eat.

But there wouldn't be an hour for a meal break.

No.

How long was shooting in total?

I was involved for about... 4 months.

Was that long or short timeframe, in your experience?

I felt like it was short, because they were very efficient and organised. They planned it really well. So every you'd head in and whoosh,

It flowed well.

Yes, very professional.

In your opinion, are there particular scenes you're in that the audience should pay attention to?

I think... I wouldn't say particular scenes, but the film as a whole. I don't think you've all seen me in this get-up before.

We could tell from the promos.

Very different to what I've played before.

Did you stay in one place for four months, or did you have to fly around?

We were only in Sydney, because we were in a studio. It was all green screen. There were a lot of special effects, so we only had to construct part of a set, And the rest was green screen, so it was mostly shot in the studio. Only the opening and ending were elsewhere, in a park, and in a village on a set they'd constructed. So I was there for... I was in Sydney the whole time. But because of the pandemic, I left for a few months in the middle, and returned when were were able to shoot again.

How did you feel about your experiences after the shoot? It's a Marvel movie, very different from the dramas and other films you've been in. How would you sum up your experiences?

Very stressed, very frustrated.

Really?

Because I'm the type of person who stays in their comfort zone. I filmed with familiar directors, and familiar crew.

You've really leapt out of your zone there.

I really stepped out of this comfort zone, working with strangers. The only person I could trust in was the director. I didn't know anyone else there. And when I got a copy of the screenplay, like I mentioned, I realised, "Wow, a villain that doesn't feel like a villain, what do I do?" I'd only received the script a month before the shoot. And when I got there, I had to work with the dialect coaches on delivery. I was filming, I was thinking... it was stressful. But we got through in the end.

Where were the costumes done?

In Tokyo. I was there at the time, and our costume designer kindly flew over to dress and fit me. At the time I didn't know what was in the script, I didn't know the story. But the costumes helped me a lot at the time. The movie's costumes were made beautifully. I thought they had good design sense. So when I was dressed for the first time, I was able to feel...

That you were the character.

Yes, roughly. I had an initial feeling for it. And then I would turn up in person, and get a better feel as I played the character.

So the shoot is over, it's about to be released. What plans do you have next, Tony?

Well when I came back to Hong Kong, I took part in a local film. Then I might shoot one in Shanghai, and then a TV series in Vancouver.

So you've done a complete turn-around since I last interviewed you. You were thinking of retiring at 36, do you not plan to retire now?

Not that I haven't thought about it... I'll stop when I feel tired. Then I'll go back to playing sports. If I feel like I've taken too long a break, and go "no, I need to do something," and there's something I'm really interested in, I'll do it. I don't need to come to a complete stop. It's something I like, after all.

So when you film in future, you wouldn't be thinking, "oh, I've been in a Hollywood production, "I will only appear in productions at that tier.” You'll be happy with a good screenplay.

Yes.

You might be asked to shoot drama films again. You would still take that on?

Well, I haven't given myself...

You've already left your comfort zone.

Yes, but I haven't really limited myself to what I think I should film. If there's a good film, I'll shoot in it. If there's something I like, I'll do it.

Well Tony, surely a typical day in Hong Kong for you wouldn't be on the water all day. What's a typical day like for you without shoots?

Well I'd get up, and there would be at least 2 hours of exercise.

Every day?

Yes.

Monday through Sunday?

Maybe one, half day's rest. You've got to let your body recover.

How about when you're shooting in Hollywood?

Not during filming, I'd save up my energy for that. Shooting takes 10 hours a day, but hair and makeup could take 2 hours. That's 12 hours, and it was tiring.

That's true.

I needed the energy for filming. But in Hong Kong, without a shoot, I'd have 2 hours exercise in the morning, make lunch, I might do some sports, like sailing, or water skiing. I'll come home, maybe watch a movie, or read a book. That's it. Maybe I'll have dinner.

I wouldn't exactly call that exciting. [Laughter]

It's pretty exciting!

For you, at least.

If the weather's good and I spend the day out sailing, I'd feel really happy about that. But not every day's a good day. I might capsize, and it would feel wrong. But it's not all that bad.

Why don't you enter competitions?

I have entered competitions.

Have you placed in these competitions?

Well... I have placed before.

What did you place?

I think second.

Oh, that's quite good. If you competed in the Olympics in sailing, there's no age limit there right?

Yes, there's no limit. But you don't necessarily have to compete in the Olympics. I could...

But we would all be happier for it, Tony. Imagine, Tony Leung Chiu-Wai representing Hong Kong and winning a medal! You've seen how happy the medalists have been this year.

It's really hard! It's really hard!

Why is that?

You're not as fit as younger people. It's hard. I play sports purely for enjoyment. I feel like it's an experience.

Fair enough.

It's... I'm not the type to want first place or something.

You're not a competitive person.

Yes. I don't want to experience a sport in that way. I'm there for my own enjoyment, not to win.

Let's say in future... since I last saw you in 2013— that wasn't even an interview, and now I've met you after all this time. Let's say in 5 years. What would you be doing in 5 years' time?

Maybe I...

Back then you said you'd retire at 36. I'll ask you again now, let's not dredge up the past. What do you think you'd be doing?

In 5 years' time, I think I would have more time for sports. [laughter]

Still on the water?

Yeah. Well, not necessarily, but a lot of different sports. I do want to try some—

Try running! I've seen Kar Ling (Carina Lau) run before!

Yes, she likes running, and hiking too.

Why don't you run with her?

I don't really like running.

Hiking?

Hiking, I'd rather... well when I'm skiing, I'd walk in the back country, in good weather, carrying my skis and wearing my cleats, it's the same thing. I'd hike up and ski down. But not that kind of hiking. Well sometimes... when in summer, in Hokkaido, I can't ski. I would still hike, but I wouldn't really like it. But it would be better with friends.

But you don't like being around too many people.

I sometimes like being with family. But my family... not everyone can hike. One might cramp up halfway.

Since you like being on the water so much, how many people does it take to do that?

One.

Just you?

Yeah.

Just someone to steer the boat.

Uhh... yeah.

It doesn't matter if there's a boat?

I do a lot of different water sports. I have those... electric boards, the type that shoot up like a magic carpet on the water, I have a stand up paddleboard, I can surf by myself too, that's doable. A lot of the sports I do can be done solo. I don't need a lot of people around.

You've really changed from before. You used to like to... go out at night?

Yeah.

That's all gone?

It has for a while. I haven't been in the nightlife for 20, 30 years. I'd eat out for dinner at most. Then I'd go straight home.

I remember I used to shoot TV dramas with you, you surprised me— We've filmed one or two series together, I would go straight home to bed afterwards, because I've always been a morning person. You could still say, "I'm going to go out for a bit." Yet the next day — our call sheets had us in very early — you were still able to make it in on time. Back then…it was a rite of passage.

Because I was young. Yes, and it was life experience. There are things you should do at that age.

Sure. Well, I hope to see you in another production soon. If this series were really successful, would you continue in any sequels?

[laughter] I really don't know, I can't say.

Why's that?

I feel like... as I've mentioned, there's fate involved in shooting a particular film. We'll see where...

…where fate takes you.

...where fate takes me.

Thank you Tony Leung Chiu-Wai for being with us today.

You're welcome.

#mcu #mcu shang chi #scatlottr #shang chi spoilers #shang chi and the legend of the ten rings #xu wenwu #徐文武 #tony leung #leung chiu wai #tony leung chiu wai #shang chi press tour #尚氣與十環幫傳奇 #尚氣與十環傳奇 #梁朝伟 #scatlottr spoilers

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let-me-love-you-loki · 2 years

Text

The Christmas That Wasn't... A Finale

As I start writing new stories, I go back to ones that haven't finished. And honestly, stories with two authors don't often see the finish line. It's the nature of writers and characters and different lives that just make it a lot harder to figure out. And that's okay. I like to think of unfinished stories as time capsules into who I was as a person when I wrote it and when it stopped. Maybe I was scared and it went to a place darker than I want to visit now. Or maybe I was optimistic and didn't quite get the sunshine I was hoping for.

We haven't talked about it in a long time, and I don't know where @mox-made-me-do-it saw this going or ending, but I've thought about it and about the character in it that was my baby to create. Here's how I see it ending for her. I don't have any idea if that resort on the sea in Bora Bora will ever be revisited, and if it does... I might be in the place I was again when Leigh ran out into the dark looking for Allie...

But here's how it ends, at least for me, right now.

Maybe the next morning or a day or two after, there's a knock on the door of the boys' bungalow. It's Marco with a set of envelopes. One for each of them--Kenny, Adam, Allie. Adam is the only one awake and they were given to him so he figured it must mean something.

Leigh had gone. She'd left early that morning on the first ferry off the resort. By the time any of then knew about it, she was back on a plane to the States. Adam wished he'd paid attention. He would have seen the resolution in her eyes.

She flew back to North Carolina.maybe she checked her phone on a layover, and I'm sure she had lots of messages and calls. But she never answered them. Never returned them. She made one call during that trip home. To her business lawyer, who drew up papers that transferred the entirety of AlsLee Entertainment to Allie Mason. The first thing Leigh did when she got off the plane was sign them. They got FedExed to the LA office. Faxed to the resort.

She called her mother to let her know she was back, but that she was going away again for a while. Someone needed to keep an eye on the house. Rent it out for some extra income. It was up to her. Leigh spent a while going through her things. Left a box of clothes and other things to go to donation. The rest she packed into a suitcase. She wrote down every important number in her phone. Turned it off. Left it on the table by the door.

I don't know where Leigh Keene went after she walked out of her house. Maybe she's somewhere in New York or London... In a city big enough she could get lost. Kenny had only ever been a wish that could never have happened. Because no matter what he said, she would never believe it. Not when another had fucked her up so completely. Maybe she found a new life. Maybe she just tried to get over the old one. And maybe I don't know because there wasn't anything she was going to.

For his part, Kenny called until the voicemail was filled. Until texts came back saying that he had the wrong number. He eventually returned to life like it had been before he'd heard two girls singing country songs on an air plane to paradise with mimosas in their hands.

Not six months later, Allie sold AlsLee Entertainment. She left LA and starting working production on a weekly live television show.

Where she got to be with her husband, Adam.

#The christmas that wasn't #An ending #Mine at least #kenny omega #kenny omega fanfiction #adam page #hangman adam page #hangman adam page fanfiction

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shepard-ram · 3 years

Note

Ender-anon here with the final part. When I started this I didn't exspect it to be so long this was only suppost to be a quick little prequel to my first smpearth ask but my love of world building and lore made it a lot longer,so I give thanks to Shep for letting me sent in these rambley fic's hahaha.

The calm before the storm

You stared in shock at the letter currently sitting innocently on your desk, although that shock was quickly turning into a combination of stress and panic because of a simple letter telling you that Emperor Philza would be visting within a few day, Emperor Philza the man who never left the capital unless it was to fight on the frontlines during war was leaving the capital of the Arctic Empire and coming to you country in the span of a few days.None of the princes even mentioned that their father was even thinking of heading to the front let alone going on what was pretty much a holiday disguised as a diplomatic trip, then again none of them were in the empires capital Wilbur and Tommy were in their own domains while Technoblade was leading the empires army assisting with the current war the empire was embroiled in their own way. The days leading up to the visit you were working yourself harder than you ever in order to get everything ready learing everything you could about the man from pouring over old letters from his sons to running around having talks with old diplomats that had met with him,only sleeping when you could no longer ignore the looks of concern that were being shot your way as the dark circles under your eyes grew as the visit drew near. Finaly though you were done everything was perfect, it was touch and go for a while when you realised that the palace kitchens wouldn't be able to make enough food but once you requistioned the military academys kitchen you were able to make up the difference. So now you stood in full regalia ready welcoming the leader of the most powerful nation on the world who was currently exspanding to your tiny probably one of the weakest nations so yeah nothing to be worried about right? Thankfully everything went well and your worries looked to be for nothing but you couldn't keep the smile off your face when he complimented your efforts, talks over the welcoming feast went great especialy once the subject shifted from politics to the princes you freely laughing as Emperor Philza who he kept trying to get you call him phil(he really was like Wilbur) shaired stories about their childhoods,such as the time Wilbur got into a crate of blue dye and got completely stained blue and his toy sheep was still blue.The next day you gave the Emperor a tour of the capital while he happily bought so many things spending so much money that you bigest concern was now if you economy could survive his vist.The rest of the trip went well he even let you spar against him though with how much Techno told you about him in your letters you could with some effort counter his fighting style letting you win despite the fact that he kept flying out of the range of your sword.All in all the vist went realy well you thought as you waved the Emperor off,you didn't offend him in any way, your economy survived his shopping spree and he even gifted you one of his feathers as a gift relations with the Arctic Empire couldn't have been greater, six months later as the Arctic Empires troops over ran the world you would be crying as you read their declaration of war.

The missing Piece of his family

There wasn't much that could surprise Philza especialy when it came to his family, but when the rift that had been growing between Techno and his younger brothers disapered overnight he had to know why, what had fixed the rift that was ripping his family apart when his years of attempts at bringing his family back together had failed every time.It wasn't untill his heir requested permistion to vist the small nation of Rhodes ( jokingly nicknamed Rhodes Island due to the mountians that surrounded the nation like an ocean surrounded a island) only a month after his last visit that the pieces finaly clicked in to place as he remembered Tommys poorly hidden obsession with you that hadn't diminished over the years, Wilbur's need to look after you and protect you from the world and now Techno had joined them with his obsessive desire for you to become his perfect little sibling you were the Tommy to his Wilbur he claimed.The fact that his sons were so attached already ment that once their future world conquest reached your nation he would gift you to his sons after all you made them happy, your reward for gaining their love would be a higher station than you held currently after all who would want to rule over a tiny isolated nation when they could become family to the strongest royal family in the world and have your every want and whim fulfilled( well except for your freedom).As he read over Technos latest report for the the front the thought hit him, he should at least get to know his future child, get to know the person his sons saw as their missing sibling.So he made arrangements to vist your nation it would be the first time he had traveled out of the capital in prime knows how long he could afford to take a break of a few days the empire could function without him for a few days.

Upon arrival to Rhodes however and saw the festivities being held in honour of his vist he coundn't help but be impressed who ever had planed this had his respect maybe he could tempt them away to work for him in the empire,his joy turned to concern(though you wouldn't be able to tell from his face) when he got a good look you, you had dark circles under you eyes and had a slither of fear in your eyes when you welcomed him.You were also younger than he thought you were while he knew you where younger than the twins he didn't expect you to be closer to Tommys age than the twins he knew that you had been ruling for a few years now, how young were you when you had the country forced upon your shoulders the only reasion Tommy had Buissness Bay was because he had councilers that could take over if it ever got to much for him its no wonder that Wilbur was concerned about you if you were constantly working your self to the bone like this. Shaking those thoughts from his head and after introductions were made he inquired about giving thanks to the organiser of the events(so the empire could acquire them) only for you to tell him that you personaly organised it all yourself oh his heart clenched abit when you beamed up at him when he complimented your efforts, rage flaired in his chest when you told him that you had done it all by yourself had nobody looked at you struggling and offered to help his future child had they all just watched you work yourself to near exhaustion for a nation that clearly didn't deserve you, no wonder his children wanted to bring you home you deserved better than this. When he heard you laughing as he told you stories about the things you future siblings had done he knew that this was what his family was missing, the next day while you showed him around the tiny capital,he bought gifts for his sons and if he caught your gaze on something bought it as well after all you would need things for your room and when you asked him for a spar he could see why Techno was so sure on you being the Tommy to his Wilbur as the same glee that he was so used to seeing in his heirs eyes during combat filled your own as the clash of blades rang out, losing despite his aerial advantage was also a plesant surprise so your draw agains Techno wasn't just a fluke.With every actitivly,every convisation, every moment spent with you only convinced him more and more that his sons were right you were the missing part of their family, you only cemented that thought as you accepted his gift of a feather from his wings, on the flight home he couldn't wait to get your room all ready for when you came home to them.Six months later after conquering any nation strong enough to be a threat of his familys ambition he finaly sent you a war declaration, it was time to bring his familys missing member home.

Ender-anon: I'm finally done,won't lie almost screamed when my laptop decided to update in the middle of writing this it took 5 hours to update.

#ask #ender anon #tw. yandere #c: philza #c: techno #c: wilbur #c: tommy #i hope y'all enjoyed enders saga /gen #cause i sure did-

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specialagentsergio · 3 years

Text

last christmas

summary: You and Emily have been in a long-distance relationship since she moved to London. She can’t wait to see you for the holidays–that is, until you say, “we need to talk.”

pairing: emily prentiss x f!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: lil bit of angst but with a happy ending, reader celebrates Christmas (no denomination or religion mentioned or implied)

a/n: sorry this took a bit longer than i was hoping for (monday and tuesday were a bit rough for me mental health-wise) but it’s ready now! i hope you enjoy it.

word count: 2.2k

masterlist

Emily had forgotten how miserable flying commercial could be. But she couldn’t really justify using one of Interpol’s private jets for a personal trip, so here she was, frantically gathering her belongings off of the belt as she tries not to hold up the line behind her at the security checkpoint.

She shakes her head in disbelief as she sits at a bench and pulls her boots back on. To think that you’ve been doing this every other month and haven’t complained once! And it’s not a short flight, either—it takes eight hours to fly from D.C. to London. Yet every time you’ve made the trip, you’ve only expressed excitement over seeing her.

She’s excited, too, of course, but she’s also nervous. Right before you’d gotten off the phone with her last night, you’d said, “I really can’t wait to see you, Em. We need to talk, in person.”

We need to talk.

In Emily’s experience, that sentence has never led to something good. She’s been trying to talk herself down ever since. Surely you wouldn’t invite her out to spend the holidays with you just to break up with her. But then again, maybe you feel that you have to do it that way, that doing it over a video call was too impersonal. She really isn’t sure what to think.

If she’s honest, she’s actually surprised you’re still together at all. Not that she doesn’t love you—she absolutely does, and you’ve said it many times in return. She had just expected you to break it off when she made the decision to move to London.

You didn’t know all the details about what happened with Doyle; you’d met after her return. But you knew enough, knew that she had had to fake her own death and hide out overseas, disconnected and away from everyone she knew and loved. And you had watched as being back in D.C. became a struggle for her. When she told you about the job offer, you had encouraged her to take it.

“I’m sorry,” Emily had sighed, pressing her forehead to yours. “I didn’t want us to end.”

“Who says we have to?” you’d asked. “I’m prepared and willing to do long-distance if you are.”

And that had been that. You had talked or video chatted at least five nights a week, and even had a standing virtual dinner date for Fridays. Her job made it difficult to travel for personal reasons, so you had flown to her (although she had insisted on paying for the ticket and always made sure you were in business class).

Long-distance wasn’t easy—she much preferred to have you in her arms. But, you’d made it work, and successfully if did she said so herself. She loved you just as much as the day she got on the plane to London, if not more.

And you loved her back... right?

If you’d asked her two days ago, she would have been confident in that. Now? Not so much.

Emily picks at her nails for almost the entire time she’s waiting at the airport terminal to board her flight. We need to talk, you’d said.

I don’t want to lose you, her heart whispers back.

---

It’s Rossi’s Christmas Eve party. Emily watches you from across the room as you chat with Morgan and Reid. You look absolutely gorgeous in a red dress, white tights on underneath to keep your legs warm in the chilly weather.

You haven’t been acting any differently than normal. You had greeted her at the airport last night with such a big hug and kiss that it drew a few “aww”’s from passersby. Every time you catch her looking at you, you smile brightly back. You’d cuddled up to her in your usual position when you went to sleep last night.

If Emily were a bit braver, she might bring up your previous conversation and ask what you wanted to talk about. But she can’t bring herself to do it. If you are planning to end things, she wants to soak in as much of you as possible before it.

JJ comes up to her side, touching her arm lightly to draw her attention away from you. “Okay, Emily,” she says. ‘What’s going on?”

It’s Christmas Eve and she doesn’t want to spoil the mood, so she says, “It’s nothing.”

“You keep picking at your nails,” JJ points out gently. “It’s something.”

Emily makes a noise of annoyance. “You know, I think I preferred it when you weren’t a profiler.”

JJ chuckles. “Oh, I’ve heard that before.” She nudges Emily with her elbow. “Come on, tell me what’s up. I want to help.”

“Alright,” she sighs. “It’s (Y/N). She hasn’t been acting any differently, but a few days ago, on the phone... Jayje, she said we need to talk.”

“Ah.” JJ tilts her head to the side. “Well, that’s necessarily a bad thing.”

“When has it not been, in your experience?”

“I said that to Will during our case in Miami, back before Henry.”

Emily frowns. “You also broke up with him.”

“For like, one day,” JJ protests. “And now look at us.” She holds up her left hand, showing off her wedding ring.

“Yeah, it worked out for you,” Emily admits. “That doesn’t mean it will for me.”

“Well, I think—”

“Mommy!” Henry comes running up and tugs on JJ’s hand. “Can we go home and get ready for Santa now?”

JJ checks the time. “Ooh, you’re right. It is time for us to go. Go find Daddy. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Okay! Bye, auntie Emily!” Henry waves and Emily waves back.

“Bye, Henry.”

He scurries off, but JJ doesn’t follow immediately; instead, she looks back to Emily. “For what it’s worth, I think everything’s going to be fine,” she says.

To Emily’s surprise, the sentiment makes her feel a bit better. “Thanks.”

After saying goodbye to JJ, she looks back to where she last saw you. You aren’t there anymore but she barely has time to wonder where you’ve gone off to before you appear at her side. You take her wrist in your hand and tug on it gently. “Come with me.”

You guide her through a few rooms and into a secluded hallway. You’re hiding something in your left hand, keeping it out of her view. When you stop, you turn towards her and a shy smile spreads across your face.

“What... what have you got there, honey?” Emily asks.

You sway from one foot to the other. “Oh, nothing much.” Then you raise your hand above her head and she looks up to see—

“Mistletoe,” she says, surprise coloring her tone.

“Mm-hmm. And you know what that means.”

She does know, but she can’t resist this opportunity to tease you. “Actually, I’m not familiar with it. Could you explain it to me?”

You drop your hand and roll your eyes. “Just shut up and kiss me, Emily.”

She feigns a long-suffering sigh. “Oh, if you insist.”

Emily takes your face in her hands and pulls you into a kiss. She tries to communicate all her feelings through it—her adoration, her happiness, her appreciation. Most of all, she pours all of her love into it.

You’re a little dazed when she pulls away; the mistletoe has slipped from your fingers onto the floor. “Oh, wow, Em,” you whisper.

“I don’t want this to be our last Christmas together,” she says, then winces a bit. “God, that was cheesy. But it’s true.”

“I don’t want it to be, either,” you reply. “Where is this coming from?”

Emily blinks. “Wha—you said that we needed to talk on the phone the other day!”

You giggle. “I didn’t mean it in bad way, dummy.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t mean it in a bad way! What else was I supposed to think?” The words just tumble out of her mouth. “You’re not seriously telling me I’ve been worried for days for no reas—”

“Shh,” you interrupt, placing your finger on her lips. “I’m sorry I made you worry. But what I want to talk about is a good thing.” You pause. “At least, I hope so.”

“Okay, apology accepted,” she sighs. “What’s this good thing you want to discuss?”

“Oh, I can’t tell you that yet,” you say, the corners of your mouth pulling up in a smile. “It’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Now that’s just cruel,” Emily grumbles.

“It is not!” you protest. “I just don’t want to spoil one of your presents.”

She purses her lips. “You’re really pushing it tonight.”

“It’s only one night, Em. It’ll make sense tomorrow.” You tuck some of her hair behind her ear. “Now, do you think we’ve been here long enough for it to be socially acceptable for us to leave?”

“I think so. JJ has already left so we wouldn’t be the first.”

“Perfect.”

---

Emily wakes up to your hair tickling her face and your lips on her neck.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” you whisper when she stirs.

Emily feels around a bit until her hand finds the back of your neck and she can pull you down for a proper kiss. “Merry Christmas,” she murmurs. She tries to tug you back down next to her, but you resist.

“Come on, let’s go open presents,” you say, tugging her in return.

She groans. “Can’t we stay in bed just a little longer? It’s so warm.”

“Don’t you want to know what your surprise is?” you remind her.

Emily tallies the pros and cons of leaving the bed in her mind, eventually settling on doing what you want. “Alright, alright.”

You grin and clap your hands together. “Yay!” Before she knows it, you’re already up and at the bedroom door.

“You go ahead; I’ll catch up,” Emily says with a yawn. She takes her time stretching, shaking off the sleepiness. She’d love to sleep in later but you’re so excited that she can’t find it in herself to say no. And of course she’s curious about your surprise.

When she wanders out to the living room, you’re waiting with a coffee mug that you press into her hands when she sits next to you. Emily takes a few sips—you’ve made it just the way she likes it. “Okay,” she says when she feels more awake. “Surprise me.”

You laugh, then go over to the tree. You retrieve an envelope from within the branches, which you then hand to her, looking nervous, but also excited. Her first thought is that it’s a gift card, but why would you be so excited about that? It would hardly be the first one you’ve given her.

The envelope itself is nothing special. It’s a pretty dark green, and you’ve written her name in your best handwriting on it in silver ink. Emily places her mug on the coffee table and slides her finger under the gold sticker keeping it sealed shut. Inside are some sheets of printer paper folded carefully. She straightens them out and it takes her a minute the recognize what’s on the first page.

It’s a plane ticket for January 1st, from D.C. to London. Emily furrows her brow. “I don’t get it,” she says. “I already have my return flight booked.”

“Look closer,” you prompt. You tap your finger on one of the lines of text and her eyes follow.

“That’s your name,” she realizes. “This ticket... it’s for you.”

“I found a job in London,” you start to explain. “A really great job. I’ve been looking for a few months, and last week I was offered the position. I had to ask Penelope for help to get a ticket on the same flight as yours on such short notice, and I think she may have exploited a few legal loopholes to do so, but we got it.”

Emily can’t focus on the papers in front of her. The text has turned blurry and it takes her a moment to realize that it’s because she’s tearing up. “I... you’re moving to London?” she whispers.

“Yeah,” you confirm softly. “I love you, Emily, and I don’t want to keep seeing you through a screen. I want to be able to touch you and kiss you. I want to be able to go see you at the end of a long day. I don’t have a place to live yet, though,” you add. “I figured I could just stay with you for a bit until I find one? As long as that’s okay.”

Emily clears her throat and wipes at her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, voice thick. “You’re not staying with me for a bit. You’re staying with me for good.”

She surges forward, pressing your back into the couch’s arm, kissing you passionately, tears still slipping down her face. It’s almost unbelievable to her, how much you love her. “I love you, too,” she says when you have to separate for air.

You catch the tears on her cheeks with your thumbs. “What was that you were saying last night about me being cruel?”

“Yeah, I’ll take that back,” she says. “Man, how are any of my presents for you supposed to match this?”

You laugh. “Well, you just immediately asked me to move in with you upon receiving this present. I think we’re even.”

Emily pulls you in close, wrapping her arms around you in an embrace. “Not to be extremely cheesy twice within twenty-four hours, but this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

You settle your head on her shoulder. “Me, too.”

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

tell me what you thought here!

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #emily prentiss #fluff and angst #my fic #sorry this took so long i accidentally triggered myself on monday and didn't feel back to normal until last night

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the-crows-typist · 3 years

Text

Time for the 3rd installment of our Valentine’s Event with none other than, Vil Schoenheit and the word: Kiss requested by @twstdaydreamer This was very fun to write and I hope all of you enjoy this as much as I did.

CW: Alternate Universe: Cinderella and The Beast, OOC, Dark past, and discussion of the death of a loved one.

This ficlet features characters singing certain songs so links will be provided for added experience.

While some lyrics are gendered, the reader still remains gender-neutral.

Word count: 7843

Other works: Chocolate Feat. Jade, Cards Feat. Floyd

A Heart from Me to You

There once was a house as beautiful as those who lived in it. Its Lord and Lady produced a beautiful heir who, at a young age, strived for beauty unequaled to anyone in the mortal plane but at the price of the beauty of his own heart. One day, an old woman with a face aged approached the manor to seek shelter from the blistering snow…Only to be turned away with looks of disgust. This angered the lady, removing her form to reveal herself as a powerful goddess who cursed all who lived in that house with an enchanted rose.

This selfishness was what brought upon the family’s curse that when night fell should the family follow. The beautiful boy suffered from the curse the most, in his transformation did he end up killing those loved.

Now, cursed and alone, the beautiful boy lived in a husk of his own home waiting the days for the earth to take him whole.

“How tragic.” You whisper, sitting by the fire with a book on your lap. You enjoyed break times by the fire and being able to read by your lonesome especially when the winters became bitter in Pyroxene. You closed the book just as the head maid came in.

“Oh look at you, you’ve got cinder marks in your uniform. Come here. You must be careful, dear. The cinder marks are harder to wash off than you think.” She said and wiping the still fresh marks off your sleeves. “It was getting cold,” You explained. “But I’ll be careful next time, I promise.”

“Please and thank you.” She smiled at you the way a mother would to her child. “Come along, Vil will be coming home soon. We should go ahead and greet him.” You follow her towards the door just as you thought about Vil. His father was a famous actor that traveled but it wasn’t often that the two of them were in the same house at the same time.

“Welcome back, Vil.” Said the maid and you, bowing your head. “How was the trip?

Vil Schoenheit stood before you, his winter coat shining with fresh snowflakes and noise a sore red. “It went as it should. May I ask for some hot tea with honey?” You could hear the pulled-back shiver in his voice. “Bring it to me in the bath.” His footsteps were quick even in those high-heeled shoes.

“Can I leave it to you?” The head maid asked. “I still need to finish cooking dinner.”

You nod your head and smoothing out your uniform, ready to take on another task as well as the scrutinizing eye of one Vil Schoenheit.

Three knocks on the door and Vil halted in his actions. “Come in.” You opened the door, pushing the tray carrying tea and small biscuits carefully into the warm room. Vil had already exited the tub and dressed in a robe. Just as you had been taught, you poured a cup of tea mixed with honey and presented it to him.

“Thank you.”

Vil was a beautiful being, he really was. The way his body was sculpted and toned made you think he was carved out of fine marble by the finest artisans. His gaze towards you made you realized you were staring too long. “I-I’ll be on my way, Mister Vil. Please enjoy the night.”

“You’re the new one here, aren’t you?”

Vil set down the cup and stood up, the robe seemed to act like a flowing dress that flowed at the floor as he drew closer and closer to you. “I believe you’re the one whose mother passed last autumn.” You nodded your head with a sigh, remembering the stressful days after your mother was laid to rest.

Times were hard for you and your family, after the sudden passing of your mother, all of you had to make ends meet whenever and wherever possible. Your step-father, Mozus Trein, got a position as a professor in a known school while your step-brothers, Angelo and Donovan, set for the Rose Kingdom.

Angelo became a baker’s apprentice while Donovan became a tailor for an apparel shop. You stayed behind in Pyroxene, snagging yourself as a position as part of the staff of the well-known Schoenheit family. While the pay was good, appearances needed to be kept at all times thus why the head maid was often uppity with you especially on your first days.

“Yes.”

“I offer my condolences to you and your family.”

“Thank you…” You say and you look down at your shoes, your chest feeling heavy and empty at the same time. “But the tears have already been shed. All I want to do now is take care of my father and help my brothers.”

There was a smile on his face and he reached over, patting your shoulder with a damp hand. Up close he smelled of clean soap with a hint of citrus. “You have a strong foundation to keep yourself stable. That’s what I want in the people who work here.” He pats your shoulder again with eyes of judgment. “But these marks on your uniform…”

Ah, crap.

“I stay by the fire during my break times.” You admit quickly and Vil only shakes his head. “It would do you good to stay further away. These cinder marks are unsightly.”

“I will keep that in mind, sir.”

He pulled back his arms and turned around as you were about to take your leave. “By the way, I would like to reiterate something while you’re here because I know the other staff will neglect to tell you this one important detail.”

The mirror before him reflected his serious expression, you gulped feeling as if you broke a rule. “When the sun begins to set. Don’t go to the second floor.”

“What’s so special about the second floor?”

All of you ate on a table, the head maid serving up some warm cream stew. “Ah, that.” You gave your bowl to ask for seconds and she much obliged you. The old lady smiled to herself. “Nighttime is the only time Vil can rest,” She explained. “He’s quite the light sleeper so even the softest of sounds will wake him up.”

The look in her eyes was distant and smile knowing as she handed the bowl back to you. “Do you need anything else? We still have some sweet corn and roasted chicken,” she asked, pushing some more food for you to take. You sip at the hot morsel of food after shaking your head. “No, I’m fine.”

The howling winter winds that rattled your window was something you could never shut out of your mind. For as long as you could remember, you had always sought refuge in the beds of your family whether it be your annoyed yet caring brothers or the understanding tiredness of your parents.

Your mother was the best at calming you, though. She always knew exactly what to do…She was your first teacher, your first friend, your primary protector after the split and she became all the more lively after meeting Mozus, your step-father. And while life adjusted itself perfectly for you and your new family, it didn’t hesitate to strike tragedy at the calmest of times.

Your mother, after all the years she had been fighting and keeping her sickness at bay, succumbed one day in front of your step-father. Even with all the magic remedies and medicines in the world to keep her alive, there was no reversing what had already been done.

“I love you.” She said on her death bed, Trein’s hand never leaving his wife’s. “I love all of you very much. I’m sorry I had to leave so early.”

You and your brothers dealt with the grief differently, all three of them going off to their little corners for days and never showing their faces to you. It was days after the funeral when you saw your father cry, holding a picture of your mother close to his chest.

Since then, you and your brothers always needed to remind each other that they needed to be strong for their father’s sake. Angelo and Donovan spared no time in snatching every opportunity that they could while you stayed behind.

Vil’s words to you repeated like a record in your head, reminding you of how he viewed you. “You have a strong foundation to keep yourself stable.” The winds rattled and you brought your knees to your chest. Was your resolve, your foundation as strong as Vil saw??

Cutlery colliding against each other broke you out of your thoughts and startling you back to reality. Slipping out of bed and into your shoes, you made your way into the kitchen with your hands holding your coat tightly for warmth. The plates clattered amongst themselves and you hear the tap opening and closing.

You listen in the dark, waiting for the next noises. The footsteps were erratic and almost cobbled, the clicking of plates loud and sudden as if something was trying to walk. Had someone tried to break in? You hear the door to the living room open and shut and you poise yourself to follow but grabbing a nearby frying pan to defend yourself.

Opening the door, you hear the pair of footsteps climb up the stairs and you begin to panic. Vil’s room was up there! Whoever it was, was targeting Vil. Your movements hesitated, remembering the rule Vil himself told you.

“When the sun begins to set. Don’t go to the second floor.”

The dead of night had already come and everything around you was dark save for the lamps that provided little help in the snowstorm. You hesitated to move, weighing the options and their potential consequences. Should you stay and let Vil rest knowing a thief was roaming the halls or should you break the rules and protect him with all you had?

You bolted up the stairs without a second thought and the frying pan clutched tight, panting as you got to the top and looking wildly and trying to listen for the familiar intermittent footsteps. You turn to your side with you hear another door opening and closing and suddenly all the lessons you’ve learned grappling with your stepbrothers come back to you in a flash.

You inch towards the room in the door, turning the knob to open the door with a soft creek that makes your insides cringe. In the middle of the room was a floating flower protected by a glass dome, it was red-pink petals shimmering and lightings its vicinity in the same color.

It was mesmerizing to look at.

Setting the pan down to your side, you walked towards it with your hand stretching out to touch the dome that protected it. You dropped the pan entirely to take the dome off the rose, its glow, even more, hypnotizing up close. Just as your finger touched its soft petals, the window to your side blew open in a torrent of cold wind and unfurling the curtains that moved like the waves of a dark sea.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”

From the darkness within the room, a pair of purple orbs glowed and a growl preceded a warning voice. The intermittent footsteps of a convulsing mannequin were not far off and its happy face brought a lick of terror to your heart.

The creature of the night crawled forwards, its sharp teeth jutting out of its mouth and form menacing and mangled. The windows were soon closed and the curtains dropped to the ground with your foot stepping on the soft fabric.

“Give me the dome.” The monster’s long claws reached out for you and before you stepped back, you slipped; hitting your head on the soft material behind you, the howling winds and the piercing orbs fading to black.

“…I told you not to come in here.”

You stood by the door of your step-father’s study with eyes facing the floor. Angelo and Donovan standing on either side of you. The yellow light gave off a sleepy and exhausted feeling in the realm of books and writing materials. In the very center was a diorama of your family, toys he wanted to surprise the kids with.

And now, the surprise was ruined.

You could feel shame boil in you, it had been only a few months since your mother remarried and you had new brothers to play with…And now your new dad was upset with you. “Come here.” He said, the man suddenly on one knee, your brothers coming over to him in a hug and you followed soon after.

“All of you, such curious little mice.” He said, patting each one of you on the back. “Next time, I want you to ask for permission before you enter the study, alright?” There was a laugh behind you, your mother smiling to herself while she leaned against the doorframe with a blanket over her shoulders. She never got used to the cold she was born in.

“Promise me that.”

“Yes, daddy.” All the children say.

And as you relished the warmth of your new father, something wet trickled down your cheek. Your brother, Angelo, was always the sensitive one of your step-siblings and would not hesitate to stop the sibling tomfoolery the moment things go awry. He held you close, his tears accidentally running down your cheek when you moved, while Donovan sat in the corner with shoulders hunched over. What was once your father’s sleepy study was now the empty hallway of a hospital.

The wind rattled against the windows of the hospital, your mother had succumbed to the sickness on a cold day. And your father was getting everything ready for the eventual end.

“Kids.”

Trein came out of the room, looking older than you remembered. “Your mother would like to talk to you.”

When you turned away from your brother’s embrace, you were seated on the side of your mother’s bed. Her body was sickly and the cold messed with what life remained in her. She smiled at all of you and your eyes began to sting.

“I love you.” She says, her eyes looking so tired. “I love you all very much.” And soon the tears began to fall from her face. I’m sorry I had to leave so early.” You blinked at the hand you held, your mother’s hand soon replaced with Donovan’s as he pulled you from your seat. In his suit, he looked more solemn and his usually long and wild hair was tied back with a ribbon.

“Let’s say goodbye.” He told you and tugged you to the coffin where your mother laid. “Where’s dad?” You turned your head, your hand now vacant and the space behind you a void of nothingness. The door of your father’s study slightly ajar and the familiar yellow light spilling through.

Your steps were echoed and slow, approaching the room slowly. When you were by the door, you peaked through the cracks; your father kneeling on the carpet and holding a figure to his chest. The diorama you once played with in your youth was set up on his table, your mother’s figurine nowhere in sight. There was a held back sob, Trein’s body shaking under his mourning robes.

You took a step back, letting him grieve in his own time.

You knew better than to come in there without permission.

You woke up with a start and a sudden sting to the back of your head. Above you was a chandelier you had no memory of seeing in your quarters and a bed your hands never recognized. Your chest heaved when you pushed yourself up the bed only to be pushed down by the head maid.

“Stay down.” She says, holding your shoulders. The light of the new day filtered through the large window of Vil’s room. Vil stood by the rose with his back facing you, holding the dome to himself just as your breathing leveled and normalized. “You hit your head pretty bad last night,” She explained and felt for the bump that made you hiss.

Last night…

“Was last night real?” You asked, your sudden burst of energy was off-putting especially when you remembered the events leading to the memories you wished to never relish again. “That rose. Was it really glowing? A-and that monster—!”

The dome was placed onto the rose with a loud clack, the glass roughly hitting the marble surface. “T-that’s beside the point!” The maid scolded. “Vil warned you never go to the second floor after the sunsets! Not only did you disobey one of the rules given to you, you hit your head while doing so.”

You bit back a hiss of guilt and opened your mouth to try to retort at your apparent rebellion.

“Elena.”

Vil’s voice was soft yet strict, eyes calm yet sharp. He regarded you for a moment while leaning against the marble table. “Let them be for the day, they’ve hit their head too hard.” You felt yourself shrink under his gaze. “See to it that they have little heavy activities as possible and prioritize that the bump is given care immediately.”

Elena bowed her head, her upset anger still very much apparent.

“Yes, sir.”

Elena’s nimble hands making quick work of dirty dishes. Your head had been bandaged with a compress pressed to where you hit your head. You stared at your meal with little appetite before poking at the grilled fish. “Miss Elena, why does that rose glow?”

The clattering of cutlery stopped and the head maid only sighed, shaking his head. “Always the curious one, aren’t you?” She turned around, leaning against the sink with arms crossed. “That’s one of Vil’s most treasured possessions. An heirloom that came directly from his grandfather then to his father then to him.”

Elena’s eyes looked to the side as if to remember. “I should know. I was there for every passing down. Vil is highly protective of it.”

It might have just been a coincidence, you thought to yourself, that the story you read by the fire had mentioned a rose but that was all there was to it. You ate your breakfast quicker after that. “I’m sorry for my behavior.”

“Next time, listen to your instructions.” She said, taking the plates from you before you could even move an inch to help her.

The feather duster slid against the books, your toes tipping to reach up for the shelves above your head. From there, you took your damp rag and swiped it across the polished wooden table. Yup, this was pretty much not so labor-intensive but it would get painfully boring unless you had some entertainment to go with you so you sang a small song taught to you in your youth.

“A dream is a wish your heart makes when you’re fast asleep.” Your mother loved to sing this song to you and soon, to your new family. Trein especially loved it when they danced together in the living room when the children were ‘seemingly’ asleep. “In dreams, you will lose your heartaches. Whatever you wish for, you keep.” You closed your eyes, feeling the memories of the past come with the melody of your song. You remember the first time you snuck out of bed with your brothers to see your parents slow dancing together. “Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through.”

You’ve never seen your mother smile so peacefully nor did you ever see her hug someone so intimately before Trein, in fact, you’ve never seen her do any of those things with your old dad. She was happy. “No matter how your heart is grieving...”

You only wished to see that happiness last longer than it should have. If only things stayed the way they did. “If you keep on believing…”

You envisioned your mother holding you close, singing to you one last time. Just like how she did when could still hold you to your chest. Just one last time…

“The dream that you wish…will come true.”

Sighing, you leaned against your broom saddened by what you made yourself remember. “Oh, I’ll never get my work done at this rate.” You say, taking your equipment with you and almost running out the library with a huff. Next to the fireplace, Vil lay on one of the long couches away from sight. It was only when you went out that he rose from his seat and hunched forward to let his hair cover his face.

He stayed silent, relishing the sound of your voice in his head.

During your break time, you decided to stay outside with a group of mice that decided to keep you company. You never understood why but the small animals around your area always seemed to be kind and almost human-like. When one mouse decided to sit by you while nibbling a small piece of leftover cookies did you begin to speak your thoughts.

“Is there something being hidden from me? Or am I being too nosey?”

One mouse approached you, listening to you at your feet. “I know last night wasn’t a dream, I know what I saw.” You say then feeling for the bump on his head. “It was real, I just know it.” There was a small squeak, one of the female mice touched your hand with her small paw as if to say words of reminder.

‘You’re stressing yourself out.’

Grimacing, you pushed yourself up and patting your uniform off the crumbs and dust. “I know.” You tell them and the mice look up to you in curiosity and concern in their beady little eyes. “I’ll be fine, don’t you worry. I’m a strong mouse just like you! I’m sure I can get to the bottom of this, I just…Need to find a better opportunity.”

The mice squeak in affirmation which makes you giggle. “Ahah, I’ll have to figure it out as I go along.” You tell them and look to the house, knowing that you had to get back in quickly. “I should get going, I’ll come back with some good food tomorrow.” You wave at the mice who give sounds of greeting as you leave.

What you saw on the second floor was real. You know it is. And you were going to prove it. You stopped by one of the mirrors, fixing your appearance quickly. “Huh?” Your hand touches the surface, small cracks brushed by your tips as if someone had driven something sharp into it. Looking up at the sky, you smelled frost in the air. Strong winds would accompany the night again, it seems.

The accompanying snowstorm was as fitting as it ever gave you a feeling of stealth. You always wanted to be a kind of spy when you were younger and here you are living the dream, though some nice gear and some goggles would have helped greatly. The wind blows and rattles the windows harshly when you brought yourself up the stairs.

“Tale as old as time, true as it can be. Barely even friends then somebody bends unexpectedly.”

You walk to the door you saw the beast. Placing a hand on the door to listen. “Just a little change. Small, to say the least. Both a little scared Neither one prepared. Beauty and The Beasy” Hesitantly, you open to turn the door to hear more of the beautiful voice. The room was dark and only the glowing rose giving light to the room around it.

“Ever just the same, ever a surprise,”

A mannequin hunches over a familiar huddle of fur and purple light. The movements of both almost unearthly yet the voice passionate and real…And so familiar. “Ever as before and ever just as sure as the sun will rise.”

The winds rattle harshly again and the beast bundles into a ball in Vil’s bed, the mannequin’s hands shakenly placing its hand on the shivering being. “Tale as old as time, tune as old as song. Bittersweet and strange, finding you can change; learning you were wrong.”

You open the door a little wider and watch the scene unfold. Somehow, it wasn’t your place to interfere at such a moment so vulnerable. “Certain as the sun rising in the east, tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme. Beauty and the Beast ”

The shaking beast’s form calmed itself and the mannequin leaned down, its monotonous face pressing against the mass of fur. A kiss goodnight. The cold of the wind blew through, the mannequin looking at you with its painted eyes. The silence was light and your eyes never leaving each other. Taking a step back, you pulled the door with you until it was shut. Everything was finally coming together.

Vil was the beast.

Breakfast was quiet and the wraps on your head were taken off. Elena made no move or sound to acknowledge you as you ate. “So the beautiful boy cursed by the goddess.” You could hear her hand grip the wet plates tightly and you knew what was coming but, at this point, you didn’t care if you got scolded. “It was Vil, wasn’t it?”

“You were given specific instructions never to go up there at night.” She said sternly.

“It’s him, wasn’t it?” You press again.

“Why are you so pressed on this? What good will it do for you?”

“The mannequin was you, wasn’t it? You were singing to that beast.” Elena fuming, slammed her hand onto the table and that was what made you pull back. “Don’t call him that.” She says and sighs, pulling away from you and straightening her back. “The next time I see you on the second floor, you are out of this house. Do you understand me?”

She takes your empty plates and splashes them into the water. Her breath was harsh and her skin almost sickly looking. A cough leaves her lips and her shoulders shiver. “Would you like some tea?” You ask softly and her shoulders hunch over.

“Yes, dear. Please.”

Just as you took the teapot from the cabinet, she spoke to you again. “Please follow that rule this time. Don’t make this harder for Vil than it has to be.”

You open the kettle and reach for the leaves, hearing the old lady cough.

You were back in the library before the sun began to set and adding wood into the fire for warmth. The snowstorm hadn’t let up since the last night and you were afraid that your quarters was not enough to warm you through the night. Using the heating pair of tongs, you adjust the wood in a way that it would burn properly and not caring if the cinders would cling to your uniform.

During the coldest of nights, you and your mother would love to cuddle by the fire and sleep until the morning. It only became a festive event with the addition of your brothers and your father. She loved the heat, the sleeping feeling it gave her and she loved it the most when Trein held her close.

Your shoulders sag, that was probably the only time you’ve ever seen him at peace. After that…Shaking your head, you push those memories away. You had to be strong, you had to be for the sake of your family. Reaching up, you swat the tears from your face. Your tears had already been wept the day she was buried.

“Stay too close to the fire and your uniform will get singed.”

Vil stood behind the couch, a warm blanket over his shoulders and hair despite being messy made him look immaculate. “I have a request.”

“What is it?”

“You can sing, correct? And sing well.” Ah, you’re not sure if you could answer that one wholeheartedly. Gulping, you nod your head. “I can sing, yes, but well, not really—.” Vil’s huff was hard and eyebrows furrowed. “Do not hide what good you have. It will not grow unless you expose it.”

“O-of course.” You nod your head and Vil closes his eyes. You noticed bags, his skin slightly paled. “Are you here because of the storm, Vil?” Nodding his head, Vil sank down next to you with a sigh. “The windows become too loud at night…I don’t like the sound of it.”

“I understand. I’m not much a fan of it myself.”

“We’re veering off-topic.” He looks to you, “Can you sing for me? At least for a moment.” The windows rattle and he closes his eyes again. You move, patting your lap for him to rest on and he gives you a look. “My mother used to do this to me. It beats having to lay down on flat ground.”

He is hesitant at first but follows after a few minutes of pondering. He lays on your lap, getting himself comfortable and you adjust the blanket on top of him. “Any requests?”

“Anything that will help me sleep.”

The winds rattle and his shoulders hunch. “Alright.”

“Oh, sing sweet nightingale. Sing sweet nightingale high above me.”

Vil’s eyes open ever so slightly, his violet eyes staring in the fire. Any moment, he would transform into the beast of the night. A curse passed down from generation to the next and yet, you stayed to sing. “Sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale high above.”

Elena had not been feeling well recently, her old age and the blistering cold made for one bad fever that she needed rest for. And while Vil was understanding of that, the winds that rattled the windows never ceased to let him sleep.

“Oh, sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale.”

But that soon changed when he heard you sing in this very library. It reminded him of the soft coo of a dove and the warmth of a wool blanket. “Oh, sing sweet nightingale sing…” His eyes felt heavy and soon his body became weightless, he yearned for the days he could walk out in the sun without fear of the night that was to come.

He yearned for the day he would no longer be afraid…

He yearned deep within his heart.

“Sing sweet nightingale…”

A black beast laid in the place where Vil once was, its gnarly teeth the same purple as Vil’s eyes. Your hands brushed the black fur as the fire crackled and spat cinders from within. The beast, no, Vil’s body laying peacefully on your lap. You move, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek and his body only moving to keep warm against you.

“High above me…”

The enchanted rose glowed dimly, its first petals beginning to fall to the countertop beneath it.

Your eyes open and the wood that once fueled the fire was reduced to ashes. Elena stood over you while Vil, in his human form, slept peacefully on your lap. The two of you shared glances and you immediately opened your mouth.

“I didn’t go upstairs this time.”

She knelt, adjusting the blanket over the sleeping boy’s long figure. You noticed how his body looked in this position, not too lanky and not too toned…but skin so pale from the days he never went out. Come to think of it, he never usually went out unless he needed to. And when he came back, he would stay in for long periods before taking his leave again.

Suddenly, you thought about his parents and wondering if they knew of his situation. Where were they? What happened to them??

Were they affected by the curse as well?

“I’ll bring the breakfast here,” Elena says. “You stay here and watch over Vil.”

Vil had no qualms about eating in the library, given that the fire was warm and the meal was hot. It helped after the bad snowstorm that passed the house for days. You noticed he had a small appetite and a big penchant for drinking lots of fluids. Well, he is a model so you don’t blame him for following the strict regimens.

“You have a nice voice,” Vil says, putting down his cup. “Thank you for last night. I hope that my beastly form wasn’t much of a problem to you.”

Shaking your head, you quickly swallow the stew you were eating. “No, no, it’s quite alright. I’m happy you think that but…About that form.” You feel Elena’s gaze on you and you force yourself to bite back a lingering question.

Vil himself was also silent. “If they’re going to stay here then they should know.” Elena’s shoulders relaxed but her expression remained unsure. “Vil, are you—.”

“I know a person with ulterior motives when I see it.” He looks over to you with a small smirk and boy does it match the messy hair and too droopy clothing. “What we have with us is nothing more than a curious little mouse.”

And you don’t whether that was an insult or a compliment but your squinting eyes only fueled his laughter, those shoulders of his bopping under the protective blanket. “Then what I saw…”

“Everything you saw was real, down to the very last petal of the rose.”

You knew it! You were right!! A smile graced your lips and you sat back against the chair you sat on. Vil took a sip and proceeded to ask more questions, some of which you didn’t have a direct answer to. “Now that you have all the information you need, what will you do with it?”

You looked down at your plate, mulling it over. “Nothing.” You answer. “You called me a curious mouse with no ulterior motive so I’ll do nothing with it.”

Vil hid his smile behind the cup of tea and Elena only sighed, a small burden lifting from her shoulders as the two of you spoke casually.

Vil was moved to the second floor, letting him rest on a real bed. You look around the room, seeing it with proper lighting for the first time. All the mirrors were covered in cloth, some cracked. The paintings that hung on the wall looked immaculate, beautifully painted…Except for one figure whose face was splashed with black. Your brows furrowed, trying to identify who this person was.

“I assume you still have more questions, little mouse.”

Vil sat up, motioning you forward to sit on the edge. “Who is he?” The family’s portrait hung as a centerpiece, you could identify a baby Vil, and his parents sitting across from each other…But that one person standing over them; you couldn’t make heads or tails of it with all the black paint in the way.

“My grandfather.”

A long sigh left Vil, his finger tucking a hair behind his ear. “Before my father went into acting, he was part of the family business led by my grandfather.” He closed his eyes, imagining the warm shop that housed many items and the many people coming in and out to buy supplies. A small Eric would clumsily put grocery items into a paper bag and wrap it, his father looming over him as he collected payments.

“He was strict when needed but his anger knew no bounds when it was released.” Vil slid down onto his bed. “Running a business is difficult, I understand that, but these fits were often quite scary to witness.” Staring into the rose’s glow, the light formed shadows of a figure hunching over a screaming beast. “It led him down a path of ruin, they went out of business and struggled during the bad brunt of the storm season.”

“He wasn’t the best at controlling his emotions, was he?” Vil shook his head at your question. “Not by a long shot. That was the very same anger that led to all this in the first place.” He looked up at the painting with contempt as if the painting stared back at him the same way. “Try as he may, my father could never outrun the curse…Even after I saw born.”

You remembered the book, the story you read by the fire. “Then…”

Vil’s hummed a laugh, eyes blinking slowly. The shadows formed by the glow of the rose moved to a scared family and a shaking figure holding a shadow of the rose. “He yelled at the wrong people, made enemies of those with magic far stronger than anyone could ever imagine.”

The shadows drew dimmer, the beastly form taking shape, roaring at the rose with all its fury and behind it was a weeping family. It all dissipated like a breaking film tape under Vil’s sigh.

Now, cursed and alone, the beautiful boy lived in a husk of his own home waiting the days for the earth to take him whole.

Your heart felt heavy, remembering the last line of the story. “I’m sorry.” That was all you could say to him but he hunched his shoulders with a dismissiveness. “What happened has passed. As you said before: the tears have already been shed.” The rose’s petals fall to the floor below it.

“Is there a way to reverse this?”

“An open heart.” he looked over to you with a smile unable to be read. “That’s all.”

You hung your head, unable to say anything. Vil only wraps his blanket around himself tighter while you stare at the glowing rose until its ethereal color was seared into your memory.

There was a splash of water, Vil sits in the tub with you preparing his robe and other items. “The snow should have receded by now. We could take a walk if you’d like.” As days passed through the house, you and Vil had grown closer. Now that either of you had nothing to hide, the tension that once felt between you was almost nonexistent.

“It has been a while since I’ve gone out. Some sunlight would do all of us good.” He said, leaning back on the tub with eyes closed. “A day in the sun…”

“Indeed. It would be nice to feel some warmth.” You learned that you and he weren’t very different. Both of you loved music, loved the theatre, just anything to dance to. And you also found out that Vil himself had a wonderful singing voice, almost like velvet.

“All those days in the sun, what I’d give to relive just one. Undo what’s done and bring back the light.”

You found out that his mother passed when he was young and his father, Eric, raised him all on his own after his mother was out of the picture. He was Vil’s first teacher, first friend, his support clutch in understanding why he was the way he was. “Days in the sun will return. We must believe—.”

“As lovers do…”

Your voices mingled together and while embarrassed to admit it, you had listened to it to his movies while cleaning. He may have caught you a few times, though. “That days in the sun…Will come shining…Through…” His deep beautiful voice echoed through the chamber, you imagined hearing it in a large theatre. Oh, you were certain Vil would love to do that.

“I always wondered why you never tried theatre.” You didn’t need to turn around to know his expression. “Do you think I’ll make it there, little mouse?”

“You’re Vil Schoenheit, son of Eric Venue. Of course, you will!”

A comfortable silence followed his laugh while you continued to face away from him. The Zen between you two almost unbreakable in the warm bathing room. The flower’s glow dimmed in the emptiness and losing more petals that piled beneath it.

With the music playing in the back, Vil watched from the balcony after getting his fair share of sunlight after the storm had passed. The voice of his father was rich and melodious as his role of a man finally falling in love after years of isolation.

He watched as you trudged around the snow before going back to his room, not once looking at the dimming rose and straight to his television. “I was the one who had it all,” His father sang. “I was the master of my fate. I never needed anybody in my life. I learned the truth too late.” The first time he had transformed into the beast he knew today, he had scared the recently hired help.

“I’ll never shake away the pain.” They were very cruel with their words, to the point that it was Elena, of all people, who told them to leave the house. Though the terror had left, it left Vil with uncertainty and fear of his appearance.

Eric’s character peered out the window just as the heroine pulls out a horse, the determination not hidden from even the viewer. “I close my eyes but she’s still there. I let her steal into my melancholy heart, it’s more than I can bear.” And now you took that place. From the get-go, Vil knew you have gone through hardships of your own. He could see it just by looking at your steeled expression and the aura you held on your shoulders.

“Now I know she’ll never leave me even as she runs away.” Not only had you defied the rule twice, your curiosity only spurred you further on with your investigation. And even when you had all the information you needed and cracked the code, you did nothing with it. “She will torment me, calm me, hurt me, move me…Come what may.”

Vil stands up just as Eric’s character runs up the stairs, the spiraling staircase almost hypnotic from above. “Wasting in my lonely tower, waiting by an open door.” He comes back to the balcony and opens the door, seeing you and Elena hauling in the bag of chestnuts. “I’ll fool myself, she’ll walk right in…” The two of you catch each other’s line of sight.

“And be with me for evermore.”

As the two of you smiled at each other, the rose begins to wilt and hunch over with each petal falling from the stem. The smell of spring drew close, Vil took a deep breath in then sighed it out. When he closes his eyes, all he ever sees are the days he’ll spend with you.

And the envisioning of a grand theatre, the same one he first saw his father in. He begins humming a small tune, thinking of the harmonizing violins, the beautiful costumes, and designs. The rose wilts more, only one petal remains on its dying stem.

The days had passed all so quickly, the winter giving its way to spring them to summer. You stood in front of the theatre, your family next to you. Trein takes you by the hand “Shall we?” entering the grand theatre, you and your sibling marveled at the beautifully crafted designs, the plush seating, and the long curtains.

“It’s beautiful.” Said your father, his smile soft. “Thank you for bringing us here.”

Angelo and Donovan pushed along, overly excited for the play. “Come on, come on.” One of them says. “It’s about to begin! Let’s sit down.”

The lights dim and the curtains open, droves of characters coming in their beautifully crafted costumes. You see Vil in his costume, waltzing with another character in yellow. The horns placed onto him were just as beautiful as him yet, after seeing his breast-like form…It never stood a chance.

The stage dimmed when he took the stage, a single rose in hand. His voice was loud, pure, perfect as he sang the song of a man who found love after years of isolation. His expression perfectly encapsulating the sadness he had felt.

“I rage against the trials of love. I curse the fading of the light.”

You remember the very first moment he bore his heart to you, the moment he asked you to sing for the very first time. “Though she’s already flown so far beyond my reach, she’s never out of sight.” Gone were the days he hid within the confines of his room and gone were the days he needed to hide out of fear.

“Now I know she’ll never leave me even if she fades from view!”

He twirls, his eyes searching the crowd until he finds yours in the crowd. “She will still inspire me, be a part of everything I do.” The background behind him changes, the spiraling staircase he walks one moved at his every move until he reaches the balcony, leaning his hands to sing his heart out with a hopeful look. The both of you stare at each other as he sings his heart out, saying the words he wanted everyone to hear with a voice he no longer feared. “Wasting in my lonely tower, waiting by an open door.”

He breathes, the wind and strings instruments beginning their strong ascend in a crescendo of harmonizing and accenting melody. “I’ll fool myself, she’ll walk right in.”

The rose glows in his hand and he hunched his back, readying himself. “And as the long, long nights begin.”

Vil looks up into the light, his expression one of pure passion and love. “I’ll think of all that might have been.” And the grip on the rose tightens but only for a moment.

“Waiting here…For ever—.”

Vil lets the rose float out of his hand and ascends up to the center of the room.

“—More!” The flower burst into a rain of petals that add to his last note and accompaniment of the instruments.

The last petal of the glowing rose falls, the stem falling on a pile of dried rose petals following the applause of the crowd. Vil regains his breathing, his eyes listless as he stares up at the ceiling when the music ends, the curtains fall, and the lights go out.

You pass through the crowds of colors and thrills, looking for the familiar mop of blond and purple hair. “Vil!” You yell out to him just as he comes to view in the sea of people. His arms are ready to take it in, “You were amazing out there!”

The sun begins to set during the embrace, Vil’s face continued to smile at you and soon giving a solemn bow to your father and brothers. “Mr. Schoenheit, it’s a pleasure to meet you. That was a wonderful performance.” He says, smiling at him with eyes trained to your hands holding the actor’s. Ah, gets it.

“Thank you, Mr. Trein. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Vil Schoenheit, you’re needed for a picture.” Says one of the stage crew and Vil reluctantly pulls away. “Coming. I’ll see you later?” He asks you and you tip your toes to him, pressing a light kiss to his lips. “I’ll wait outside. Bye Vil.”

You run out of backstage and yet he had a feeling that finding you won’t be that much of a problem. He touches his lips. “So this is love…” He whispered to himself and made his way to his troop, readying himself for the pictures.

#works from the typewriter #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #g/n reader #valentines event

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dragons-bones · 3 years

Text

FFXIV: A Rising Chorus

A/N: \o/ It’s done! Been working on this off and on since Balmung finished its Firmament, and I’m so happy I finally get to share it.

RATING: G WORD COUNT: 3032 WARNINGS: Spoilers for the final Ishgard Restoration quest line that begins with “Not By Bread Alone;” tooth-rotting fluff. Crossposted to AO3!

After months of hard work by Ishgardians and outsiders alike, the Firmament lies finished: the last of its homes ready to welcome the indigent of the Brume; its new businesses awaiting eager customers; and the warmth of Snowsoak prepared to soothe the aches and pains of its residents.

They’ve already had one impromptu party...time for an encore!

---

Hoarfrost Hall cast a long shadow over the Firmament as the sun set, the welkin overhead shading from gold to rose to inky blue with the first of the stars beginning to twinkle into existence far to the east. The image of the Hall’s belltower crept down the Abacus, ever closer to the crowd gathering at the far end of Saint Roelle’s Dais, but the growing gloom was offset by the work of the lamplighters, steadily making their way from Featherfall to the New Nest and Eastern Risensong, and the warm glow of candles and hearthfires spilling from the windows of newly-occupied homes. A low susurrus of noise echoed from the Dais as the assembly talked amongst themselves, the sound broken by the occasional bright peal of laughter or the strident twang of a violin being forced back into tune.

Synnove leaned on the railing overlooking the Dais, chin propped in her hand as she watched the Risensong Players warm up for their encore concert. The piano wasn’t Rereha’s usual choice of instrument—she was fonder of violin and lute and harp—but she had cracked her knuckles and thrown herself into that first practice before the first concert with relish, pulling a swirling song from the instrument even as she had complained about being horrifically rusty, the show-off. And better Rere than herself.

She shuddered. Just because she could hear aether as music did not mean that she had any talent or inclination for the art. And wouldn’t that have been the omen, a Warrior of Light and participating skybuilder mucking up the Firmament’s celebratory concert?

At least Rere could say she had participated during the Restoration; her creative talents lay strictly with music and storytelling, but she could plane wood into lumber.

She caught the sound of footsteps coming up behind her, and Synnove turned around in curiosity—and smiled. “Fancy meeting you here,” she drawled.

Aymeric, dressed down in simple leathers, laughed softly as he came to stand beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Synnove pushed herself to her tiptoes to kiss his cheek—he beamed at her, as pleased as any knight when their love bestowed their favor—while he said, “I hope this time I’m not too late!”

“Just in time, my love,” she said fondly, leaning into him. “They’re finishing warm ups, by the sound of it.”

Her knight pressed a kiss into her hair, causing her to beam in turn, and they settled into comfortable silence, looking out to the Dais as a similar hush fell on the crowd. Synnove could vaguely see familiar forms in the press of people, even at this distance: Uncle Edmont with Artoirel (no doubt still wearing that expression of bewildered delight at having his own composition as the showcase of these concerts) and Honoroit; the Haillenarte siblings clustered close to where Francel sat at his piano, radiating pride so fiercely they nearly flavored the aether of the Firmament with it; Heron, off to the side so she wouldn’t block anyone’s view, Amandina and Roksana perched on either shoulder and Arvide with his jaunty beret beside her. Alakhai lurked among a group of Forgotten Knight staff and regulars and Tailfeather hunters at the back of the crowd, and not far from there, Lucia successfully snuck up on Hilda and her Hounds.

(Nobles, commoners, outsiders, even a few of the dragonets who perched on streetlamps and statues. The sight of so many disparate peoples coming together set a warmth in her chest.)

Even this far from the Risensong Players, anticipation made the air nearly hum, no less potent than it had been for the noon show, and Synnove drew in an expectant breath along with Aymeric beside her as the Players raised their instruments or bows to the ready. And then—

—the first notes from Rereha and Francel’s pianos rang out, and their fellows—Handeloup and Emmanellain still on flute, Elaisse and Lizbeth still on violin, and Potkin and Augebert still on cello—joined the symphony.

For all that she didn’t consider herself musical, Synnove found herself humming along, and both felt and heard Aymeric do so, too. She recognized some of the melody Artoirel had used as part of a popular Halonic hymn, but rather than the martial or dirge-like tones of the versions she had heard when she had first come to Ishgard, it had been transformed into something happy and brilliant and celebratory and hopeful. The Firmament was practically giddy with the music, its ambient aether overwhelmed…or perhaps it was harmonizing instead.

Aymeric drew away from her, and she twisted around to look at him in surprise that quickly morphed into delight when he bowed and held out his hand to her, smiling fit to burst all the while. “May I have this dance, my lady?”

Synnove took his hand with a grin and replied, “My lord, it would be my honor.”

He pulled her close, his other arm going around her waist as she brought her other hand to his shoulder, and he dropped a kiss on her nose. As she giggled, he twirled them around, turning her giggles into breathless laughter. They made up the steps as they went along, an awful mix of a minuet and a rigaudon, nearly tripping over their own feet, Synnove’s laughter becoming inelegant snorting cackles and Aymeric snickering into her hair. Over the sounds of their mirth, Synnove could hear the crowd clapping along with the music, and out of the corner of her eye she spotted the movement of other spontaneous dancers.

Aymeric and Synnove collided to a halt as the song ended with a final flourish and the crowd cheered, pressing their foreheads together as they tried to catch their breath between residual giggles. The air between was white from their panting, and she was about to suggest they go to try one of the new food and drink stalls in Featherfall for something hot when the cheery twang of a fiddle rang out across the Dais.

They turned their heads, and even from here they could both see Rereha had abandoned the white piano in favor of her beloved violin, and her bow whipped across the strings to begin a popular reel that was quickly picked up by the other Players, flutes and cellos and piano. Another raucous cheer went up from the crowd, and without prompting, they began to clear a large, open area where lines of dancers quickly formed of both Ishgardians and skybuilders; couples like Lucia and Hilda were hand-in-hand, and friends and family dragged loved ones into the merry scrum. The hulking form of Marcelloix, shaking his head and hunching his shoulders, was easy to pick out, and though the person leading him determinedly through the crowd to the lines couldn’t be seen, there was no doubt in Synnove’s mind that it was Audaine. Those that weren’t lining up to dance instead clapped in time, and in a few more beats, the dancers had begun to dip and spin and whirl about one another in a fast-paced cotillion.

“Turning it into a proper party, this time,” Synnove laughed softly. “Shall we join them?”

Aymeric kissed her temple. “In a little while,” he said. “I’d like to have you to myself for a bit; I’ve barely seen hide nor hair of you in the past sennights.”

“That likely could have been mitigated if a certain someone hadn’t been holed up in parliamentary meetings for whole days at a time…”

“Now that, my love,” he said as they began to dance again in a proper waltz, turning up his nose in faux affront, “is unkind and unjust.”

“But not untrue!”

Their teasing continued as they danced, stepping lightly as the laughter of the crowd and the joy of the music echoed from the Dais. They were coming to the end of the song and slowly twirling towards the Abacus to head to the Dais proper, when—

[Oh! Oh! Is that dancing?!]

The pair glanced up in surprise at the voice that rang out, just in time to see Ehll Tou swoop out of the lamp-studded gloom to gracefully backwing and land a few fulms away. Hautdilong, in a boy-sized fleece-lined leather jacket popular with airship pilots, slid off her back and pushed his flying goggles up to the top of his head, blinking rapidly against the light. His dragon friend, meanwhile, dashed over to the railing, placing her dexterous front hands on the stone and leaning forward with an excited, gravelly trill.

“Oh, goodness,” Hautdilong said, looking out at Saint Roelle’s Dais with wide eyes. “What did we miss? Ehll Tou and I were visiting Gullinbursti and the moogles at Bahrr Lehs the past few days.”

“We finished the Skybuilders’ Monument,” Synnove said, grinning down at the boy when he looked up at her, mouth dropping open. She fought the urge to burst out laughing when Hautdilong’s gaze slid from her to the man next to her and he registered just with whom she had been dancing, and saw Aymeric give a brief half-bow to the lad in acknowledgement. “To make a long story short, a few of the residents wanted to put together a thank you for Francel for his work in overseeing the restoration, and put together a music troupe that performed for the first time earlier today. This,” she gestured at the reforming lines of dancers and the swelling crowd as the Risensong Players began a new song, “is the encore!”

“That explains why I saw Lord Tarresson begin to pack for a trip just as we left this morning!” Hautdilong said. “Someone must have sent him word; he had been speaking to us of how excited he was to see the Firmament finished.”

Ehll Tou suddenly barreled over in the manner of a dragon who sometimes forgot she was much bigger than she used to be, skidding to a halt before she could topple into her two-legged friends. [I want to learn to dance like a child of man!] she said, hopping from foot to foot and wearing her wide, excited smile. [Will you teach me? Please?]

Synnove blinked, momentarily stunned, but it was Aymeric who recovered first. “It would be our honor, Sky Lady,” he said warmly. “Perhaps one of the circle dances to start?”

[I have no idea what that is,] Ehll Tou said, her smile still in place. [But it sounds like fun, so yes!]

“You’ll have to teach me, too, lover-boy,” Synnove teased good-naturedly, poking him in the arm. “You, Hersande, and Baptistaux taught me quadrilles and other court dances, but none of the properly fun ones.”

“Then we will correct that deficiency posthaste,” he said cheerfully. “In fact... Master Hautdilong?”

The boy whipped his head around to Aymeric. “Ah, yes, Lord Speak—er, Ser—” The poor thing had the look of the suddenly nervous and overwhelmed.

“Just ‘Aymeric,’ is fine, especially among friends,” her knight said with a broad wink. Hautdilong slowly smiled back, while Aymeric continued: “Would you happen to be familiar at all with Coerthan circle dances? Particularly the ones from Eastern Coerthas like the branle?”

“I am!” Hautdilong said. “My mother is from the Eastern Lowlands and I was fortunate to travel with her to her home village for the spring planting festivals before the Calamity.”

“My own mama was from the Eastern Highlands,” Aymeric said. “And there’s just enough similarity in some of the town traditions that I believe we’ll manage to teach the ladies well enough. And perhaps some of our other friends, too?”

At that last, he raised his voice, calling out in the shadows, and a with a whoop, a gaggle of children came pelting up the Abacus and rounded the corner to their overlook. Synnove recognized Maelie, Noalle, and some of the Rolanberry Fields children—Lycelle, Peyraquile, and Julchiezain at the forefront—among the group, and following them were a handful of the shier dragonets whose names she had yet to learn. She had been so intent on Aymeric and the music and their mutual joy that she had completely missed the audience they had acquired.

Hautdilong was beaming and, without prompting, began organizing the group of Ishgardian and Dravanian children into a proper circle, with Ehll Tou and her cousins obediently tucking their wings close to avoid knocking other dancers off balance at his suggestion. Synnove dutifully allowed herself to herded elsewhere, exchanging a grin with Aymeric as she was shuffled into the circle between a blue dragonet on her left, who stood on tippy toe to ensure she could properly reach, and Julchiezain on her right. Synnove took a moment to ruffle Julchiezain’s hair—the boy tried to duck around Maelie on his own right to get away from it, but Maelie deftly dodged in turn and shoved him back into his spot and Synnove’s reach with a giggle—before her attention was drawn to the little dragonet tugging at the bottom hem of her vest.

“Hello, little one,” Synnove said, bending down so her face was at level with the dragonet’s. “What can I do for you?”

[My name is Ahm Sorn,] she said shyly, and Synnove melted only a little bit at the sweet, fluting notes of her mental voice. [May we teach this dance to the moogles and our other friends when we return home?]

“You absolutely may!” Synnove said with a smile. “Dances like this are the kind to be shared.”

Little Ahm Sorn made a small, purring little burble in the back of her throat. Synnove’s heart skipped a beat, but she absolutely did not gurgle and try to yank the dragonet into a cuddle. Aymeric shot Synnove a warning look anyway, which she ignored with only a slight pout as she stood up straight once more. She wasn’t actually going to forcibly adopt every sweet little dragonet that crossed her path!

(…She would ask Ehll Tou later who Ahm Sorn’s dam was, and if her dam would like an occasional minder for her daughter.)

Finally, once everyone was settled and hands and paws firmly linked, they all turned to Aymeric expectantly. He smiled at them all and said, “All right, the first set of movements goes like so…”

The next handful of bells were spent stumbling, tripping, and laughing their way through multiple circle dances, most of them Coerthan, until Aymeric made a sly, off-hand comment about Gyr Abanian dances that had the group of children clamoring for Synnove to teach them what she knew. Then Ehll Tou took lead to show them a grounded version of the fluttering, hopping dances that the moogles and dragons of Bahrr Lehs performed, and finally, as children always did, they took turns in making up new dances from what they had learned, until their laughter nearly drowned out the music soaring out from the edge of the Dais.

But all good things came to an end, and eventually the children began to droop with exhaustion and the party wound down. They fit in one last circle dance—a bit too slow for the song the Players were performing to end the encore show, but easier on tired feet wanting to shuffle rather than skip—and finished to the applause of parents and guardians come to take their charges home. They dispersed to all corners of the Firmaments, though most headed south into the New Nest; Noalle passed out almost as soon as her father picked her up, her cheek pillowed on his scaly green shoulder, and Marcelloix and Audaine fell into easy conversation with Rasequin, Gontrandoix, and Pehainel for the trek home while Lycelle, Julchiezain, and Peyraquile helped herd their fellow orphans along, with the older children each carrying one of the smaller ones piggyback. Ehll Tou crouched down to help Hautdilong onto her back, and they—and Ahm Sorn and the other dragonets—waved goodbye before winging off into the night for the sanctuary of Ehll Tou’s workshop roost.

Synnove and Aymeric collected the twins from Heron, off to the Forgotten Knight with Alakhai, and they meandered arm-in-arm up Quill’s Trace while Roksana and Amandina dozed in the crook of Synnove’s opposite arm. When they reached Bright Ballad’s Passage, without saying anything, they simultaneously turned to look out over the Firmament.

The district glowed with golden light, a mirror to the river of stars spangling the black velvet of the sky above. The soft blue glimmer of the new aetheryte system provided spots of color among the shadows, and the faint shapes of people passing in front of windows could be spotted in the houses closest to the Passage. And even with midnight nearing, the Mendicant’s Court still bustled with the night owls of the skybuilder corps, hard at work crafting goods for the residents of the Firmament or lifting off in manacutters from the Skysteel Workshop for the Diadem.

Sighing quietly, a sense of pride and satisfaction settling in her chest, Synnove leaned her head against Aymeric’s shoulder. Her knight kissed the top of her head before resting his cheek on her hair, moving his arm to wrap around her waist and squeeze tightly.

“Even seeing it,” Aymeric said, voice hushed and reverent, “it’s difficult to believe the work is finished. The repairs to the Brume and Foundation are still ongoing, of course, but knowing so many of my countrymen no longer need to worry about where to sleep at night…”

“It’s difficult to fathom the hopes for one’s home coming to fruition within your own lifetime,” Synnove replied, leaning into him. “I never thought I’d see Ala Mhigo free. I never thought a cure for tempering would be found. But here we are: griffon flags fly in Ala Mhigo; capture by a primal is no longer a death sentence; and Ishgard stands at peace and ready to do whatever is necessary to take care of her people.”

Her knight sighed, as satisfied sounding as she felt. “Our star is far from perfect, and its people less so,” he said. “But by Halone, it’s wonderful to see them try, and succeed.”

Synnove hummed her agreement and together, they turned, the Firmament at their backs, and wandered home.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #ishgard restoration #ishgardian restoration #oc: synnove greywolfe #aymeric de borel #aymeric x wol #aymeric x synnove #ehll tou #hautdilong #dt's writing #IT DONE

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buck-nialled · 4 years

Note

idk if i’m doing this right but for the Setting + Trope + Sentence Prompt Game

niall: setting - 1, trope - b, sentence - 14 🤍🤍🤍

NOTE: Thanks for the submission! Click HERE to see all prompts and send your own combo to my inbox!

SETTING: after a near-death experience

TROPE: a big damn kiss

SENTENCE: “I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

BANG - N. Horan Imagine

On the rare occasion when your and Niall’s schedule were concurrently wiped, most days consisted of being attached by the hip at his Los Angeles household. Mornings were spent going out together to catch up with friends or admire the belted trousers that hugged Niall’s ass perfectly on the eighteen-hole course he would drag you out of bed to cheer him on at. Nights were reserved with only each other, in the most intimate positions your bodies could lock themselves into. Whether that be a warm bubble bath you prompted Niall to join you in after concluding another delectable dish he had made or heating each other’s bodies with panting breaths and lazy kisses as you entwined your quaking legs together. Catching up on sleep and attaining a healthy number of hours unconscious was also on the agenda, but never failed to collapse once your and Niall’s calendars became clustered again.

When Niall placed a crisp white envelope in your lap and said nothing, a feeling of apprehension consumed your insides. This would be no regular weekend, you thought to yourself.

You picked up the envelope to inspect the front and back for any writing but came back unsuccessful. “What is this?” You rose a brow in suspicion for what the contents inside could be. Niall’s impatience revealed itself as he sat beside you on the couch and bounced his knee in a furious rhythm, mumbling to “open it.” You giggled, noticing how hard he was trying to keep his lips in a firm line to hide his smile and knew the answer to your question could only be good.

“Hurry, the suspense is killing me.” You wasted no extra time dwindling and ripped the seal to the envelope. You pulled the lip of it open and gasped at the thick rectangles sitting at the bottom. Plane tickets, you think to yourself. After you had retrieved them from the bottom with a racing heart, only one question rattled around your head: what adventure did your boyfriend have planned this time? You skimmed over the flight information on the ticket, but Niall had the answer before your eyes could locate one.

“They’re for Ireland.” You set the tickets on your lap and focused your eyes on his. His hand blindly searched for yours to embrace. The feeling of his calloused thumb trailed on the skin of your hand while he continued his explanation. “Figured it was time for you to finally meet my family and friends back home. We both have the next few weeks off together and I know that’s rare, so I thought there was no better time than now.”

The promise to fly you down to his hometown had been brought up many times in conversation. He just had the opportunity to share dinner with your family months before and had been reminding himself to return the favor. You assured him it would be okay for him to not uphold his end of the bargain temporarily, since escaping your occupations for over a week and at the same time seemed inevitable. But the man was adamant, and now that he had finally been gifted the wish of taking you down to the place he grew up, there was no chance he was letting the possibility pass him by.

Niall does not think there was anything more gratifying than when he made you smile. Your arms locked around his neck tighter than they ever had as you squealed excitedly against the skin of his shoulder. Though the two of you still stood over five thousand miles from Mullingar, a sense of being home coated his insides as he snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him. He noted how your hair smelled like home too, and your skin was soft like the childhood blanket still sitting on the bed at his mother’s house. He realized then, bringing his two homes together would be a feeling unlike any other. It was one he couldn’t wait to experience.

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

Possibly one of the cutest sights was Niall’s smile acting like a beacon as he led you around to all of the famous sites Mullingar had to offer. Granted, half of them consisted of his favorite pubs, but the shimmer of his eyes as he spoke of each one made you giddy inside. When he knocked on his mother’s door with shuffling feet, you prepared to let go of his hand when you imagined all of the embraces he would be engaged in moments following. But you were caught by surprise when you received the first hug out of both of you, from the short blonde woman who could only match Niall’s description of his mother. As you were brought down to her height to return the welcoming hold, the familiar laughter of your boyfriend sounded behind you when his mother mouthed excitedly to him: “this is the girl! she’s so pretty!”

Even more endearing than Maura showing you baby photos of Niall and cooking what Niall informed her was your favorite meal, was your boyfriend performing actions just as charming for you. Being foreign to the country and Niall’s vast knowledge of growing up there only equated to him bundling you up in every jacket and sweater you packed before entering the cold. He would spend nights making you cups of hot cocoa or tea Maura had stocked up in the cabinets and cuddle you on the sofa. A warm blanket, fresh from the dryer, would be sprawled out on your laps as he played you some of his favorite shoes and movies from when he was younger.

When the day to introduce you to his "buds" arrived, you both agreed to meet up with them at a pub near Niall's house later in the evening

The shattering of a beer bottle and crossed, accented shouts were all it took for the night to go downhill. Ireland’s alcohol was phenomenal, Niall informed you a few weeks before your flight, but some people can’t control their emotions when intoxicated. You always heard the expression of drunk words being sober thoughts. But you could process none of what these men around you were spitting, as their voices were too slurred and heavy to be understood. You ducked and tried scuttling around the altercation in hopes of spotting Niall in the crowd. His comforting form remained beside you for the last twenty minutes, introducing you to all of his friends and chatting before all of them dispersed, including Niall. He only promised it would be for a quick trip to the restroom and he would be all yours for the rest of the night. However, the dim lighting and escalating violence nearby proved his sudden absence very poor in timing.

“Niall! Ni!” You shouted, drawing a few heads your way. Everybody in his hometown knew the name. Hell, everybody in Ireland recognized the five-letter, top-charting musician’s title. You were unfazed by the glances spared in your direction and continued your efforts in working your way through the dancing, chattering swarm of people. The shouting only increased in volume, passing the music playing over the bar’s speakers and a football match on the television. You turned your head back around to find you had made little to no progress in escaping the quarrel when the bartender tried separating the two, snapping figures. Pauses began taking place in between their unintelligible threats, and when the worker attempted to interrupt the fight and declare to call the police, a long silence filled the room. You, along with many other patrons of the pub let out breaths of relief and prepared for the night to carry on, tension-free. As you spun around, one of the men now behind you muttered something and you froze in place when you heard the unmistakable click.

The gunshot reverberated through the walls of the vicinity and made your ears ring. Another followed before you had time to turn around. People were trampling over one another to evacuate the building with petrified screams. You, though, ran the opposite direction and toward the restrooms where (you hoped) your boyfriend was located. Booming stomps sounded on the hardwood flooring of the pub during your scramble to the swinging doors in the back, but louder ones drew closer to you. As your palm made contact with the sticky, cold texture of the painted door the feeling of hard metal halted you in your position.

“Not so fast, birdy. I can’t have any witnesses.” His grating voice slurred. On instinct, you removed your hand from the door and rose your other to match its height.

“P-please,” you whispered, tears brimming your eyes. By now, you prayed Niall had exited with the rest of the patrons to safety. “Please don’t.”

“Ah, an American bird! What’re ye doin’ here all alone?” Trembles overcame your body without permission. Hot tears started slithering down your face as you remained focused on the restroom door.

“You’re right,” he speaks again after a few moments of silence. “I don’t need to know,” he laughs boisterously. “Hell,” he hiccups, “you won’t even be able to tell me in a few se—“

“Police!” More stomping echoed around the barren pub. “Sir, drop your weapon and put your hands up. Now!” A man barked. You remained unmoving with shattered breaths. A clatter of the gun never sounded, and you squeezed your eyes impossibly tight once your inevitable demise continued digging into the back of your scalp.

“Sir, I won’t ask you again. Drop the weapon.” Your eyes opened. Now concentrated on the silver bolted plate flush on the door, you studied its reflection. The man turned his head as to scowl at the officers.

“We won’t hesitate to shoot.” Another spoke, readying his weapon.

“Neither will I.” The drunkard replied, never taking his eyes off of the men in uniform. It was then you took the opportunity to whirl your body around and snatch the gun from the man’s hold. His grip was tight on the weapon and only allowed limited maneuvering of the firearm. Losing no more time to fulfill his threat, the man’s finger laid pressure on the trigger. Another gunshot sounded through the building. But you felt this one inside of you, damaging your middle as you clutched your stomach desperate in attempts to claw the bullet out yourself. You lost your footing and stumbled back against the restroom door. Your mouth hung agape when the man lifted it to his head and allowed you the sight of his end. One final BANG resounded, before the officers scattered about the room. One called for more ambulances and medics on the scene into the walkie talkie clipped on his collar.

“Ma’am, can you hear me?” You nod, stunned by all you had witnessed and remembered the initial reason for your run away to the back of the bar.

“M-my boyfriend. He’s—bathroom.” You stammer, trying to twist your body in attempts of entering the restroom yourself but elicit a pained wail instead.

“We’ll search this whole building for any others but it seems like you two were the only ones in here. Right now, we’re gonna get you out of here okay?” The feeling of drowsiness overcomes you, the pain in your stomach ceaseless but becoming tolerable once fight or flight takes over. Medics enter the scene and you feel like you are floating when they assist you onto the gurney. Removing your red-stained hands from the wound once instructed by the emergency care team is the last focused sight you recall having. Their overlapping chatter and cool, Ireland air biting at your skin wade you off into the darkness. But through it, you swear you can hear Niall’s voice, soothing your every qualm and ache.

“I’m going to take care of you, okay petal? It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna take care of you. It’ll be okay.”

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

The bright fluorescence scorched your eyelids and elicited a hoarse moan from your throat. Niall, who sat in a chair beside the white bed and your figure adorned in a baby blue gown added pressure to your laced hands. Watching you be pulled away from his side for emergency surgery and observe your unconscious body the last five hours on a bed, with the fear you would somehow flatline nearly drove the man to insanity. He felt idiotic and a lack of chivalry within him when he sped from the bathroom by the sound of gunshots and assumed you would already be waiting outside for him with open arms. His mother’s visit to see him and wait for a few hours while you slept did little to ease his gnawing teeth against his lip and fingernails, and his restless leg.

“Petal, are you awake?” Niall’s gruff voice and a squeeze of your hand is all the incentive necessary for your eyelids to peel themselves open. Your eyes adjusted to the harsh light, and as you bring your un-held hand upwards to stretch, pain shot straight to your core and made you curl into yourself.

“Oh, no. Don’t do that.” Niall stands from his set and feels the blood rushing down to his legs and feet. He endures the pins and needles as he waddles over to your injured person and brushes the hair away from your face. “Love, you gave me such a scare.”

“I’m sorry—“

“You shouldn’t be apologizing. I was stupid to not find you first before I left to go outside. The officers said you were lookin’ for me and found you by the restrooms…” He says in question, earning a meek nod from you in reply. “Why didn’t ya just book it?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” The feeble squeak followed by a slap of Niall’s palm against his chest. A feeling like no other pained his heart as he stared down at you.

“Love, if anything like that happens again you have my full permission to leave me there. Have you ever seen me play hide ‘n seek? I would’ve made it out of there fine, trust me.” His comment leaves you in a fit of giggles before a vicious hiss passes through your teeth. One of your hands, adorning an IV went to clutch your stomach with your other palm.

“Oh yeah, the doctor told me earlier you should try and keep your laughing to a minimum. Your stitches might pop if you don’t.”

“That won’t be so hard with you as my housemate.” The genuine tone laced in your worlds cued Niall’s lips to quirk down instantly. He brought his face closer to yours, cupping a cheek in one of his hands as he gazed deeply into your eyes with a devious twinkle in his pupils.

“If I could, I would tickle you so hard right now. But you’re injured so I’m going to give you a damn big kiss instead.” His lips were planted on yours seconds after, leaving no room to reply as he fulfilled his promise. Loosely, you clutched his biceps adorning a long-sleeved t-shirt and sighed blissfully into his mouth. The ache of your stitched stomach no longer mattered. Niall’s devoting words and warm lips could numb any bullet that struck you.

#Niall horan #Niall James horan #Niall horan imagine #niall horan oneshot #niall horan blurb #Niall horan imagines #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan angst #niall horan story #nh #njh #niallhoran #nialljameshoran #niall horan x reader #one direction

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iamdunn · 3 years

Text

Miraculous Flash Forward Part 5: Return to Paris

A Miraculous Fan-Fic

Written by

AJ Dunn

Adrien pulled his coat on tight around his shoulders. It was a freezing winter night as he made his way back home. He avoided the urge to transform, though it would be quicker to scale the roof tops than trying to walk. It wasn’t the best idea for the tiny Kwami who was already feeling a chill. Now that Fu is gone, there was no one to heal the Kwami if he got sick. It’s not like there was a listing for guardians.

The metro had already stopped running for the night but Adrien made his way home. Plagg didn’t waste any time flying off to sit on the heater to warm himself. Adrien pulled the Manchego from the grocery bag he was carrying and broke off a large chunk then tossed it into the air. Like magic, it disappeared into the Kwami’s mouth. Adrien tore up the package that came today It was a fleece Ladybug footed onesie with a zipper up the front.

“It’s here Plagg.” Adrien beamed. He had created a fake social media account and used it to message Marinette. He was surprised that she responded happily to his request for the commission of a onesie. He wanted to feel close to her again, but he couldn’t let her know it was him. He stripped down right in the seating area and slipped the fuzzy thing on. It fit perfectly. He kicked the box to the side but realized there was something else in it. He moved the tissue paper to the side and found a fleece black garment folded up. It had the red trimming same as her costume design. He pulled it out and found it was a Cat Noir footed onesie with a hood and ears. The feet even had paw prints on the bottom.

OH Plagg.” he called holding the onesie up. “Look what I got.” waved the onesie around like a child on Christmas. A holiday he’s not had the pleasure of really celebrated since his mom went into a coma. Even while living with Amelie he had avoided it as a sad reminder of his parents.

“Think you dropped this.” Plagg picked up a piece of paper. It was a pink polka dot stationery folded in half. He opened it up and read the note tossing the Cat onesie over his shoulder.

“There is no Ladybug, without her Cat Noir”

It was a simple statement, but it brought Adrien to tears. He dropped heavily onto the couch letting the letter fall from his hands.

“You know.” Plagg started. “It’s only 5 months until the 5-year reunion. Will you go?”

“At this point, I doubt they would want me to come.” Adrien surrendered to stood up and headed for bed. Adrien’s phone dinged a new notification as he laid silently on his bed. He picked it up. It was another post on Alya’s Lady blog.

“It’s 5 months away from the 5 year anniversary of the defeat of Hawk Moth. Now that Paris has finally begun to heal from the pain caused by this villain, the citizens have been asking if our saviors would come together for a celebration. So I managed to rope Ladybug herself into an interview.” The camera zoomed at showing Alya sitting in a room with two armchairs and a simple round table between them. Ladybug sat next to her.

“Thank you for coming Ladybug.”

“Thank you for having me.” Ladybug smiled. She was so beautiful. Her midnight hair had grown out and was no longer in her customary pigtails.

“First of all, the defeat of Hawk Moth was quite the feat.”

“That is an understatement.” her serious face looked from Alya to the camera and back.

“How well do you think the people of Paris have recovered from it? Do you think they are ready for a celebration like this?”

“I think some of us still suffer certain losses even in the wake of Hawk Moths final attack.” Ladybug was looking at the screen now.

“Are you referring to the disappearance of Cat Noir?” Ladybug closed her eyes and drew a fist to her chest.

“There is no Ladybug without Cat Noir.” She said looking into the camera again. “Where ever you are if you are watching. Cat it’s time to come home.” tears jerked at his heart as he tossed his phone down on the bed and walked to the railing overlooking at his seating area.

“Stayed tuned for an interview with Marinette, the class president of the class who graduated during the final attack of Hawk Moth.” Adrien turned around and found Plagg holding the phone watching the blog.

“Must you watch that?” Adrien asked irritated.

‘What’s wrong, afraid you’ll lose the battle and get on a place?” Plagg egged him on. Adrien shook his head and turned back to his bed. He took the phone and went downstairs. Plagg turned the TV on and Adrien mirrored the phone to it. Suddenly there was Marinette on the big screen. He was wearing a cute dress, a black coated top with a flared pink Polka dot skirt. She did love her polka dots. There was a little black kitten embroidered into the skirt batting at, a ladybug?

“Is that…” Adrien said looking closer at her skirt.

“An ode to Ladybug and Cat Noir?” Plagg finished. “I think it is.”

“Marinette, it’s been nearly 5 years since your class graduation was interrupted by the final attack of Hawk Moth, how do you think your classmates are fairing today?”

“I can’t speak for all of them, but those who I have been in contact with are really looking forward to it. In fact, they are excited and hopeful to see each other again, and the superheroes that saved us.”

“After 5 years it’s no surprised that we have lost contact with some of our classmates, so how many have you spoken with?”

“All, but one.” the downcast look on her face spoke to her heart’s disposition regarding Adrien’s disappearance. “After that past four years, and all the searching on the internet, they have been no sign of our missing classmate. If you or anyone who know have any idea where our beloved friend has gone, please, let him know we are his family and we miss him.” Adrien turned the television off and went to bed.

The closer it came to the reunion the more his phone alerted him to updates of Marinette and Alya preparing for the festivities. Marinette had always given her entire self to her friends, helping them, and picnics, how could Adrien have not seen what a true superhero she was and she didn’t even need a mask.

Adrien picked up his mail in the mailroom then headed out to the school. It was spring now, and only a week away from the reunion. He noticed a thick envelope with a card inside. He opened it as he sat on the metro. It was an invitation to the reunion. Addressed to him. He checked the address and noticed a label had been placed on top of the original label. Thanks, Amelie. Or Emelie. They were both now living together, though Adrien hadn’t spoken with either. Emelie was still incoherent though conscious and living at the manor with Amelie. Adrien looked over the card again and noticed a finally written note in the corner of the card.

“I’m still waiting for your answer.” He knew Marinette’s handwriting all too well. He smiled as his heart warmed at the message.

“I will go,” he said out loud, hoping only Plagg heard him from his pocket. Adrien had a lot of arrangements to make if he was to go. He had grounds to maintain. He would need to put someone else in charge of these tasks. Adrien wasn’t sure how long he would stay, but he would start with a week just in case. He was surprised to find someone was at the temple when he arrived. An older man was cleaning up the grounds as Adrien walked up.

“Laoshi Mao?” the man asked. “I am Orisuma.”

“I thank you for your hard work, what brings you?” Adrien asked.

“I had been noticing you doing all this work on your own. Such a hard working young man” Orisuma offered. “I have been released from my job and have nothing to do during the day.” Adrien smiled.

“You have come at the right time.” Adrien motioned for the man to follow him. He keyed open the temple and the two walked inside.

“I have to go away for a few days, and I was just thinking to myself this morning how I need someone to tend to the grounds until I return.” Adrien walked him and around showing him all of the tasks he had to carry out every day and the onles that only needed to be done weekly. Since classes were still on hold for another couple weeks due to the mourning of Cheng Sifu, there wasn’t laundry. Many of the students left their yi-fu here.

“I would be happy to provide this survice to you, if you will allow me to continue when you return.” Adrien smiled at him.

“I would be honored to have your aid.” Feeling at ease and knowing he had nothing else to do for the day he returned home to prepare for his trip. His excited and nerves argued in his stomach as he arranged his flight, and packed his bags.

“Felix,” He said on the phone as his cousin answered. “I’ll be on a plane this evening for Paris.” A silence on the other side of the phone told him Felix was surprised.

“Wow, what brought this on?” Felix must be so busy with work that he hasn’t been following the buzz.

“The reunion is this Saturday, and I have been invited.”

“Are you finally ready to face them?”

“I am not sure, but what better time to do so.” Adrien gulped trying to not lose his nerve.

“Well, are there any arrangements you would like me to make on my end?”

“Just see that my room is ready.”

“You plan to...stay there.” the hesitation in Felix’s voice reverberated Adrien’s own hesitation.

“It makes sense.” Adrien tried to justify it, rather then getting a motel. “People would ask to many questions why the Heir to Agreste manor stays in a hotel instead of his own home.”

“I see your point.”

“Besides, it’s been 5 years, you’d think a man would have gotten over such a thing by now.” He wasn’t sure he was quite yet, but the prospect of finding out, while it made him wince in emotional pain, it also lightened his heart to the prospect of finally finding out who the love of his life was. His Lady.

“Pick me up at the airport.” Adrien said before they ended the call. Adrien checked the refrigerator for anything that would spoil while he was gone. Aside from cheese which would sustain, he had very little else. His evening meal was still made with Cheng Sifu. Ah, he remembered. He picked up his phone and called him.

“I will be going back to Paris for a week, so I won’t be coming in.” He heard Cheng make some sound on the other end of the line, it sounded like a cheer.

“You say hello to my nieces for me while you are there.” Another cheer came from the other end of the line. “Before you go, I would like to send them a treat if you don’t mind picking it up.” Adrien agreed and hung up the phone.

The box was larger than Adrien had expected, but not to large to fit in the back seat of his cab. Luckily he only carried one suitcase and a carry on bag. Mostly for the snacks Plagg would eat on the plane. It was a good thing Kwami’s couldn’t be seen or heard through technology. Otherwise there would be some explaining to do at airport security. He checked the box and suit case then found a seat at the boarding gate to wait for his boarding call. He had a while to wait as he had been in a hurry to get their that he arrived an hour early. Sitting in a nearly empty waiting area where no one else could see him he pulled out his phone holding it up to his head as he pretended to be on the phone.

“Who do you think I should visit first.” he asked Plagg as he used the voice to cover the secret conversation.

“I’d visit the Bakery first, they have amazing snacks and or Leons Cheese store for some yummy Camembert.” Plagg was more excited than anything at the prospect of the snacks.

“I can’t go to the bakery first” Adrien gupled. “What if Marinette is there?”

“She said she wants you to come home.” Plagg reminded him.

“She wants answers, and I doubt my answer will be good enough, Plagg I ran away like a child.”

“Well, you were in a very unique situation Adrien. No one would blame you for reacting like that.” Plagg was just happy to be going home. “You told Felix to stock up on cheese right.”

“I think we can handle that on our own, we don’t need someone else doing everything for us anymore.” Adrien had made himself into an independent man. He didn’t want someone preparing his meals for him, or buying his clothes. That was Adrien Agreste and he wasn’t that man anymore.

“I know the first person I want to see, and I know exactly how to ask her for forgiveness.” Adrien had been following the news in Paris and keeping up with everyone from a distance. It was Ladybug and Marinette he owed the most too, and he would start with Ladybug.

Adrien shoved the box into the back seat of Felix’s car then the suit case. He climbed into the front seat. His hood was still pulled over his head hiding his face. A common thing while he was in public.

“Will be we making a formal announcement at any time.” Felix asked.

“Is that wise?”

“You will be attending your high school reunion. And no matter what I say, I can’t erase Adrien Agreste or take away their memory of you.” Felix had played off to the press that he was the face of the Agreste brand saying that there was no Adrien Agreste. It wasn’t a lie, Adrien Agreste no longer existed but that was only to give him the privacy to recovery form what his father had done to this city. The Graham De Vanily Brand was a refreshing new start for the former Agreste brand and they needed to make sure no scandals rose up to destroy that image.

“Transperency is important here. If the media got wind of a secret like this, say, you showing up to a high school reunion, it could be bad for the company’s image.”

“Can it wait until Saturday. I have some sleuthing to do without a bunch of people showing up.” Adrien asked. His stomach began to tie in knots at the thought of Nino showing up on his door, or even worse, Alya. That girl could be scary at times, and he knew Marinette would have told him about the last conversation they had. He couldn’t bear it.

“Fine.” Felix huffed. “I will contact Marinette to arrange a formal announcement at the reunion, so you can make your return public and televised.” His face burned at the thought of such a public re-entrance as his heart skipped a beat.

“If you insist.” He forced a smile as they pulled through the gates of the Agreste Manor. The insignia on the gate as well as all over the house spoke to Gabriel as the symbol was a G inside of a circle.

“I wish we could change that.” Adrien said.

“As long as Emelie lives, we can’t the house is hers.” Adrien didn’t know if that made it any better.

“She can have it.” Adrien thought. “I think I am happy in Shanghai.”

“What if things work out with you and…” Felix stopped the car infront of the entrance. “Marinette?”

“What makes you think I even have a chance with her after all these years?” Adrien looked at him. “You said yourself she stopped asking about me awhile ago.”

“Ask the same question and get the same answer too many times, people tend to stop asking.” Felix was right. Adrien pulled his suit case out of the back seat then leaned into the open window.

“Would you mind taking that to Tom and Sabine’s bakery, it’s a gift from Sabine’s uncle.”

“Shall I tell them you brought it for them?” Felix gave a mischievous smile then pulled away without an answer.

“Please don’t.” Adrien said to himself as he watched Felix drive away. He carried his bacg into the house hoping no one saw him. Felix had even excused the staff for the entire week as Adrien had requested. If Emelie never recovered, this house would become his officially, even though she was a year away from being declared dead before she was found in the basement of the manor. His bedroom was the same as the last time he had been in it. It had been cleaned but everything else was still the same. Including the fact that there were clothes still in the closets. He had bever been ablet to even pack his stuff.

“I don’t think any of it will fit anymore.” Plagg laughed then flew to his cheese fridge. It was a small fridge and was now empty. Plagg sighed in sadness.

“Shall we head out to Leons?” Adrien asked him. Adrien walked to the car garage. There were sever cars in their. He opened the lock box by the entry door and fished for a set of keys, there were three cars in their a tiny black coup, a silver sadan, and a black sadan. He picked up a set of keys and clicked the key fob to unlock the doors. The lights on the black sadan lit up. He clicked the lock but and put them back. Another key fob lit up the lights on the coup. He smiled then climbed inside. He had never driven this car. He had only ever been allowed to drive the silver one, but generally he always had his body guard drive him around.

He had a little bit of shopping to do so he started with Leon’s cheese store, then went to the market to get the supplies for dinner. He intended this to be a picnic unlike anything she has ever had before.

#miraculous fandom #ladynoir #miraculous chat noir #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #miraculous world #marichat #felix graham de vanily #miraculous adrien #miraculous fanfic

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nightfayre · 4 years

Text

a young!qiucheng at a party prompt request for @itssomekindofheaven! thank you so much for the prompt, and I hope you enjoy!!

///

“Enough.”

There were many different ways Qiu imagined their reunion to be. Most of them involved surprise entries; a pair of motorcycle keys left on the countertop for Cheng to find in the morning, or the half-cracked bedroom door across the hall that hadn’t been opened since he left, beckoning curiosity. Others of them involved hard glares — a moment of shock (”When... did you get back?”) as well as bitterness (”Wouldn’t you like to know.”) — and perhaps a dose of silent treatment to ensure the message was well received.

But Qiu never considered either of them to be that theatric, nor that inclined to waste such time, and so none of that ever came to fruition. Instead, now, Qiu watched the effect of the command unfold before him.

Enough.

Cheng, kneeled before He Tian with a wet cloth that he dabbed disdainfully against the red stain on He Tian’s dress shirt, turned to look up at Qiu. His eyes caught the irritated sweep of Qiu’s gaze — widened only for a moment — and then held it.

“Enough of what?” Cheng asked, drawn. Qiu was surprised to find no bitten severity behind the words, which had increasingly become Cheng’s standard disposition over the years. Instead, he was calm, and in front of him He Tian rocked back on his heels, abashed by the salsa that had still coated his fingertips when Cheng found him — and a shattered serving bowl — in the kitchen. His older brother had made quick work of scolding him, then stiffly comforting him when He Tian began to pout, then aiding in removing the stain before the maids (or worse, father) found out.

Qiu had watched it all happen from across the room as he feigned interest in a family head’s state of affairs. When the opportunity came, he made some lame excuse to find himself here, now, looking down on the celebration’s main attraction playing babysitter. And while regular fuck-ups on young He Tian’s behalf were never exactly surprises, tonight it made something in Qiu’s mouth go particularly sour.

“There’re others who are responsible for him tonight,” Qiu told Cheng now. “Let him be.”

He Cheng’s mouth quirked, and he turned away to dab at the stain again. “He’s my brother.”

“And it’s your birthday,” Qiu said, frowning. He jerked his head over his shoulder where small crowds littered the marble floors of the He’s dining hall, gathered in tight circles as they prodded at finger foods. “People traveled to see you.”

I’m here to see you, idiot.

“They came to see my father,” Cheng amended, flat. “Don’t get us confused.”

“Well,” Qiu said, then said nothing more, because Cheng gave him a look that warned Don’t start and, frankly, Qiu didn’t have the energy tonight. Instead, he turned to He Tian, who looked up at him with a mixed expression of fear and anxiety thinly veiled by bravery. Little lion man, Qiu often called him, and he was often reminded of the truth behind such a nickname.

“You have other shirts, don’t you?” Qiu asked him. “In your room?”

He Tian nodded. “But father told me I wasn’t allowed to go upstairs tonight. They locked my door.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Qiu muttered. He stopped a passing servant balancing a platter of drinks, and the man bowed his head with respect. “Take He Tian with you,” Qiu ordered, “and find a house maid. He needs a new shirt. And—” a glance at Cheng, who frowned, “—don’t let Mr. He see.”

The servant looked where Cheng — broad shoulders draped in a dark, pressed suit and hair neatly slicked back — kneeled before his little brother on the kitchen tiles. It was a sight to behold. “Yes, sir,” the man said.

He Tian glanced to his brother, who eventually relented with a scowl and nodded with permission, dropping the cloth. Sheepish, He Tian followed the servant toward the nearest loitering maid, picking at the shirt stain as if that would make it go away faster.

“Don’t give me that look,” Qiu said as Cheng stood, silent but telling in the way that his lips pressed and his eyes, dark and severe, leveled on him. “You’re not his fucking parent. You have other shit to worry about.”

“This event isn’t any different than the others I’ve attended,” Cheng replied, mouth pulling at the edges. “Don’t be so damn sentimental. They’ll eat you alive for it.”

“Who? Your daddy?” Qiu scoffed. “I don’t care.”

Cheng tilted his head. “Your payroll would beg to differ.”

“I’ve just spent five months overseas for his ass. If he wants to fire me over a salsa stain, then I’ll start packing my bags.”

“Bags? Plural?” Cheng shook his head. “You could fit the shit in your room in a single backpack.”

Qiu scowled. “Sorry I don’t have the luxury to drop all my money on useless shit like you. Like cars.”

It had the intended effect. Cheng regarded him, surprised. “You already know about that?” he asked after a moment.

Qiu leaned back, the wall firm against his shoulder blades. He’d taken off his suit jacket an hour ago because he was hot, and because he was irritated watching Cheng interact with the party’s guests without ever thinking to greet Qiu, too. The thought in itself made him crave a cigarette. He still did. “Yeah, I do. Heard it from one of the guys because, apparently, you don’t know how to fucking text. Or call.”

There was a pause; a moment in which Cheng only watched him, stoic like his father but quiet in every way that wasn’t his father. Qiu suppressed the urge to reach forward and drag his fingers through Cheng’s gelled hair and fuck up every perfect strand if only to prove that Cheng was only twenty-three — no, twenty-four now — and nothing of what Mr. He tells him to be. To do. That Cheng was right: this party was for his father, even though Cheng’s name was on the invitation, but that doesn’t mean Cheng didn’t deserve more than a calculating, decisive look from all the guests he greeted. That he didn’t deserve more than going to bed after all the guests have left and the house staff cleans up their mess and his only thoughts being of tomorrow’s agenda, and his little brother’s wellbeing, and the empty chair that sat next to his father during the dinner.

God, Qiu could give him more than that.

“I’ve been busy,” Cheng told him now, his voice lowered so that Qiu knew that this was an apology, and that Cheng, in some fashion, meant it.

Qiu didn’t accept it. “Not busy enough to avoid buying another fucking Hongqi though, huh?”

Cheng exhaled, in the same way he exhaled when He Tian bothered him while he was trying to work: worn, but understanding. “I’m serious, Qiu. I was busy. And I didn’t want to distract you while you were abroad, either.”

Qiu frowned. “Distract me? With what? A single phone call just so I know you’re still alive? What the hell does distract even mean?”

“You know what it means.”

There was a pause; another servant passing them with a quiet apology even though they were the ones taking up space in the doorway. Then Cheng shifted on his feet, slipped a hand into the pocket of his trousers.

“She’s a beauty,” he offered. “The Hongqi. I wanted it to be a surprise when you came back. But she’s in the garage, just polished. Want to go see her after...?” He made a vague wave of the hand towards the dining hall.

Qiu’s jaw set. “No, actually. I’m still jet lagged from the plane ride this morning that you never greeted me from and I want to get some sleep tonight.”

Cheng frowned. “Ah-Qiu—”

“Forget it. I need a smoke.”

As Qiu turned and headed for the nearest exit, Cheng sighed again, irritated. “For fuck’s— You’re joking. Qiu.”

Qiu was already pulling a pack of smokes from his pocket as he walked. “Yeah, because you’re always so receptive to a joke, aren’t you, He Cheng?” he muttered.

Cheng didn’t respond, but followed him out. People only gave them a passing glance as they went by, sometimes a nod or a half-smile once they recognized Cheng as his father’s son. But soon they were alone, warm evening air dragging away smoke tendrils from the glowing end of Qiu’s cigarette as he walked the stone pathway. The sky was a deep orange hue like that of a wildfire, tainted by a dark, creeping purple at the edges. The gardens hadn’t been touched much since Mrs. He’s passing earlier in the year, but Qiu followed the edge of it nonetheless, coming to a stop at the iron gate that was cold through his sleeves when he leaned his elbows on it.

He said nothing when Cheng appeared at his side, and the two stood in silence as Cheng sparked a lighter and held the flame to his own cigarette until it caught.

For a while, they only looked upon the shadowed landscape of the He estate; the small rolling of hills disturbed by the forest, trees’ silhouettes protruding out like teeth on a comb. Qiu wondered how long it would take for a single match to leave the hilltops barren and charred. Then, Cheng spoke.

“How was it?” he asked. His voice sounded louder here, away from the house. “The trip.”

Qiu glanced at him from the corner of his eye, then looked forward again.

“Same ol’ shit,” he answered blandly. “Every city looks the same to me. Nothing worth mentioning. And I couldn’t even understand the fucking language they were speaking during the meetings, either. Waste of my time. I was muscle and not much else.”

Cheng nodded, absentminded, like that made sense.

And then he said, in little more than a mutter: “I thought of you.”

Qiu’s brows drew together, cigarette paused between the split of his lips. Then he drew in a breath; let the smoke dance and twirl in front of his eyes. The burn at the back of his throat almost felt cathartic.

“Well, aren’t I fucking lucky?” he muttered. “He thought of me. Fucking groundbreaking.”

Cheng looked at him, expression blank. “You were gone a long time, Qiu. I don’t want you to think I wasn’t thinking of you during that time. That I didn’t notice your absence, when I did.”

Qiu only shook his head. “Hard to believe when you’re more worried about talking to old men who don’t give a shit about you and a stain on He Tian’s fucking shirt than you are about seeing me again.”

“I couldn’t find the time,” Cheng told him. “My father told me my first priority was socializing — networking, or however he puts it. And He Tian developed a bad habit for nightmares about our mother again while you were gone. He’s woken me up nearly every night, and he’s skipping meals again. I’ll be the first to admit it’s annoying, but I can’t just fucking— ignore him.”

Little lion men, Qiu thought, the both of you.

But Qiu weighed the words sitting on his tongue carefully. He tapped away the flaking ends of his cigarette as he did, and watched the ash rise to the sky among the dim stars.

Eventually, he gave into the loss of inhibition.

“You’re filling a spot you don’t need to fill,” he said, a little coarse. “He’s a kid; he’s gonna mourn his mom whether you bend over backwards or not. But you’re putting more and more shit on your plate that you don’t need to, and it’s gonna bite you in the ass eventually.”

To Qiu’s surprise, Cheng nodded.

“But when it comes down to it, there’s no other option,” Cheng said. His eyes scanned the horizon, and Qiu wondered what he saw in the trees. “I didn’t have a sibling growing up in this family; I’m not so damn selfish that I would want that for He Tian, too. Especially now, after...”

Behind them, Qiu could hear the distant drone of music and the chatter of people. The liveliness seemed to be separated from them in that moment, like a dome encasing the noise. Here, they were still and quiet, caressed by a soft wind that had freed a strand of hair to lie on the flat of Cheng’s forehead, warmed by the heat between their too-close shoulders and the smoke that one man breathed out and the other breathed in. Equilibrium.

“So…” Qiu started after the silence stretched, “what, then?”

Cheng straightened, smirking. “So, nothing. I do what I can. I’m taking him camping near the river this weekend. Getting us both away from here for a few days.”

He looked at Qiu. Continued: “And when I come back, we can take the Hongqi out for a ride. I know you want to see it. And I’ll let you tinker with it, or whatever the hell you usually do with the bikes and shit.”

Qiu clicked his tongue — even as his chest warmed at the idea of putting his hands on something that nice. “Don’t try to bribe your way out of this.”

Cheng huffed a laugh, breathy and stolen. “Why not? There’s only so many ways to make you happy, and I never knew you were such an attention whore until tonight. I saw you the moment you walked in, but I didn’t realize I had to make it known.”

Qiu spit into the grass. “Fuck you. I’ll remember this when you fuck off somewhere and come back.”

“An eye for an eye. Sounds fair enough to me.”

“‘Course it does to someone like you.”

Cheng smiled — something small and rare and barely noticeable that made Qiu break eye contact. Oblivious, Cheng took a long drag off his smoke, then nodded to himself.

“Then this weekend is a deal,” he confirmed, low. “Spending some time together, now that you’re back.”

Qiu dropped his cigarette, and crushed it beneath his shoe.

“Fine,” he said, feigning vexation. “But only because it’s your damn birthday, and I’m the only one around here who seems to care. I pity you.”

The words were meant to be clipped and prickling, but he felt the weight of Cheng’s eyes trail the length of him with anything but contempt. Eventually, Cheng put out his cigarette too, then slipped his hands in his pockets as he overlooked the hills.

“Well,” he said, smirking. “Aren’t I fucking lucky.”

#19 days #qiucheng #I know this isn't much of a 'party' scene nor a 'jealousy' scene but i hope this suffices!#also I'm so brain dead from midterms so all mistakes in this are mine :(#thank you for the prompt!!#19 days fanfic #19 days fanfiction

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alt-rose · 3 years

Text

a trip to syracuse - colson baker

colson baker imagine

a trip to syracuse - a trip to syracuse leads to a cameo and a heart to heart.

word count: 4.9K (someone stop me)

the scene is in big time adolescence. if you haven’t seen it, i highly recommend. it’s on hulu.

(this could be considered a part 2 to 21, but it could be read alone)

(GIF from tenor)

it was July. you had spent your last few months working your ass off at SNL before staring as a lead in your first comedy film after your second season of SNL had ended. you had been all over the country in the last few months. you were in New York for work. then, you traveled home to your hometown to visit your family during your first week of the summer hiatus. then, you had to ship out to LA to work on your movie. then, you somehow ended back in your hometown.

you were everywhere. busy. never had time for yourself, or the time to do what you really wanted.

you hadn’t seen Colson since a few weeks after your birthday weekend. you texted back and forth. you called occasionally when you both had time. he made you laugh, and you, of course, enjoyed hearing about all his crazy stories. you looked forward to the random pictures he sent you from the studio or from set. he liked having something to share with someone, or rather, someone to share things with.

the two of you were like two best friends that could share everything with each other without needing to be physically there for each other. you could go days without talking because of your busy schedules, yet whenever you caught up with each other, it felt so natural. your relationship felt impossible to explain to anyone that asked. you felt connected to him somehow, but you couldn’t place the feeling.

colson baker: you should come visit me

that was the text you got at 3 am on a Wednesday, well technically Thursday.

you smiled at your phone as you stared at it. the light blinded you as you laid in bed in your dark bedroom at your parent’s house. it was 4 am in New York. what could he have possibly been doing? you learned not to ask that question often when it came to Colson and Pete. they were night owls and tended to drink or smoke anything they could get their hands on. for your sake, you’d rather not know what they were doing. it helped keep your nerves at bay.

however, 4 am in New York tended to worry you a bit. you opened your phone, squinting as the light grew brighter. you began to type back.

you: I should?

you: please tell me you are being safe

you scrolled through your phone as you waited for a response. your phone buzzed with a notification. you opened the message.

colson baker: safe at pete’s place

ah. Pete’s place was their new hangout. Pete was staying with his girlfriend, AG, as you called her, and it was technically her place. they were getting ready to head to Syracuse in a week or so for Pete’s new movie that Colson was making a cameo in.

colson baker: you should visit

colson baker: call me a pussy but I miss you

you smiled at that text. he missed you. your heart thumped in your chest.

you: I miss you too

you: text me tomorrow when you are sober and it’s not the middle of the night.

you: let’s see if sober colson wants me to visit

you watched as the typing bubbles appeared before the message appeared.

colson baker: sober colson said yes

colson baker: but, I’ll text you tomorrow about it

you laugh at his message before typing back.

you: goodnight cols

you: get some rest

your eyes began to lull shut, but you were determined to stay up for the next ten minutes in case he wanted to text you.

you fell asleep to one finally message from him.

colson baker: goodnight velcro monkey

somehow the velcro monkey joke always made an appearance when someone was drunk or high. it made them laugh at how the reserved, independent person you were could turn into the clingiest drunk on the planet.

you smiled one last time before shutting off your phone and going back to sleep.

the next morning, you sat in your parents’ kitchen answering emails on your laptop. your attention was occasionally pulled away from work as you watched your dogs play in the family room. it was good to be home for a bit, but your parents and dogs were a bit distracting when it came time to work.

“your phone has been buzzing for the last 20 minutes,” you mom said setting your phone down at the kitchen table. “you left this upstairs.”

“god, thank you,” you tell her not looking up from your computer.

“a lot of messages from a Colson Baker,” she gives you a look, raising her eyebrow.

“who’s Colson Baker?” your dad asked butting into the conversation as he made his way into the kitchen.

you moved to quickly snatch you phone from them. you were an adult now with an adult job, yet they still treated you like a teenager.

“a friend,” you reply as you opened your phone.

you had four messages and a missed call from Colson.

“seemed like they really wanted to get a hold of you,” you mom hummed as she moved to make her third cup of coffee that day.

“why do they want to get a hold of you so badly? seems important,” your dad chimed in.

“guys, it’s fine. please chill,” you reply. “just a friend. anyway, I have to take this call.”

you got up from the table before taking your dogs out to your back patio. you took a seat on one of the outdoor lounges as you called Colson.

“hey,” his raspy voice rang through the phone.

“hey,” you sigh. “what’s up with Syracuse?”

“you should come visit me in Syracuse.”

“I know, but why Syracuse?” you laugh.

“Pete’s doing his movie, and we’re both making a cameo.”

you went silent for a bit.

“we talked to the director this morning. they need background for my cameo scene, so I suggested you to Pete, and he was cool with it. the director said it was cool if you wanted to join the project for a cameo.”

“are you serious?”

“deadly. come spend the rest of the summer in Syracuse with me.”

“I’ll have to check my schedule-”

“shut up,” he laughed. “I know you’re free.”

“you’re right,” you sighed. “my family isn’t going to be happy with me leaving again, but they can just visit when SNL starts back up.”

“so you’ll do it?”

“sure, what else do I have to do?” you asked adjusting the phone to your ear. “plus, a week or two in Syracuse with you and Pete would be fun.”

“YES,” you heard him shout over the phone. “aight, cool,” he finally calms down. “I’ll let Pete know.”

“alright, Cols. sounds good,” you sigh into the phone.

“what’s wrong?” he asked after a beat.

“nothing. I’m just trying to figure out how to explain why a Colson Baker was blowing up my phone earlier to my parents.”

you heard him let out a laugh from his end. you heard him murmur something to someone. you heard him laugh once more before he addressed you.

“Pete said to tell your parents that I’m your dealer.”

“tell Pete that my parents might have a heart attack.”

you heard him mumble something before you heard a roar of voices.

“tell your parents that Colson works as a janitor for NBC,” you heard Pete yell into the phone.

“you guys are ridiculous,” you sigh into the phone as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“but you love us,” Pete sang into the phone.

“yeah, I do.”

you heard them laugh.

“you could just tell you parents the truth,” Colson suggested. “I don’t mind your family knowing. the whole reason we were keeping it quiet was to keep you out of the spotlight.”

you thought about it for a minute.

“and what exactly are we keeping from her family?” you heard Pete in the background.

“that I’m her best friend now. I replaced you,” Colson quickly replied.

“HEY,” you yelled sitting up in your seat. “I never said that.”

“it’s okay,” Pete said louder into the phone. you can only assume he was closer to the phone. “I know you love him more than me.”

“that’s not true,” you said in a defensive tone. “I love you both equally.”

“RIIIIIGHT,” Pete drew through the phone.

“right,” Colson agreed.

“it’s okay. I know who you text when you’re supposed to be working, (y/n),” Pete slyly said in the phone.

“knock it off, Pete,” you growl into the phone, causing the guys to laugh. “where’s your girlfriend? can’t you go bother her?”

“oh shit,” you heard Pete say. “I forgot to bring her the food we made. bye (y/n).”

you laughed at him before you heard Colson.

“I took you off speaker. he went back into his room with the food.”

“you guys made breakfast?”

“yeah, our post-mushroom pancakes,” he said. “totally came down from them a half hour ago. the food’s probably cold as shit now.”

“RIP to AG’s kitchen.”

“RIP, indeed.”

you laughed.

“I can’t wait to see you, Cols,” you smile into the phone.

“I’m excited to see you, too. I’ll send you a plane ticket.”

“I can pay for my own plane ticket. it’s okay,” you reply. “you can save that up to buy me dinner when I get to Syracuse.”

“(y/n) (y/l/n), are you asking me on a date?”

“too forward?” you laugh.

“not forward enough. maybe, I could buy you breakfast too?”

you laugh and cover your mouth with his suggestion before you finally calm yourself down.

“maybe you could,” you reply coolly.

“NOOOO,” he whined into the phone. “can you come to New York now?”

you laughed together before the conversation lulled into a gentle silence.

“can I tell you a secret?” you whisper into the phone.

“shoot.”

“I’ve been listening to your music.”

you paused waiting for his reaction.

“oh boy, have I converted you to hip hop and rap?”

“no, I made an exception for Machine Gun Kelly,” you smile.

“really?” you could hear him shift around. “got a favorite?”

“27,” you reply too quickly. “I’m a sucker for the piano. Kiss the Sky and Habit are pretty good too.”

“next show I have, you’re gonna be in the crowd. I want to perform for you.”

“for me?” you ask in a posh voice. “you could always give me a private show.”

“I just might.”

suddenly, your attention was pulled to your mom who was standing at the back door. you raise an eyebrow at her as you listened to Colson mumble through the phone.

“hold on, Cols,” you tell him. “what’s up?” you ask her.

“we’re leaving in a half an hour to go to dinner at your grandparents. you need to get ready,” she replied.

you nod to her. she stood in the doorway waiting for you to get off the phone. you raised another eyebrow at her. she wanted to eavesdrop on your conversation.

“alright,” you sigh. “Cols, I have to go. I have dinner with my grandparents.”

“fine. fine. call me later?”

“yeah, I’ll call you later.”

“bye (y/n), love you.”

you smiled at that. even though the love was platonic, it felt good to hear it from him.

“bye Cols, love you too.”

once you hung up, you gave your mom a pointed look.

“love, huh?” she smiled.

“just a friend,” you mutter before calling the dogs in.

“just a friend that you love,” she teased.

“so who is Colson Baker?” your dad chimed in once the two of you made it inside.

“he’s a friend of Pete and I,” you reply heading to the stairs.

“what does he do?” your dad asked looking up from his phone.

“just look him up. I have to get ready.”

once you safely made it up the stairs and away from their questions, you began to rummage through your closet for clothes. you were pulled out of your search by your dad yelling up the stairs.

“MACHINE GUN KELLY. YOU’RE FRIENDS WITH MACHINE GUN KELLY?”

a week and a half later, you were on a plane to Syracuse. your parents weren’t super hip about you leaving so soon, but you argued that it was for work. and, it was. you weren’t lying.

they also were not so happy about your friendship with Colson, or Machine Gun Kelly as they knew him. your mom argued for the tattoos, which made no sense, since they liked Pete, and he had tattoos. they were also not so impressed that he was a rapper.

maybe, you shouldn’t have let them read all the articles about him.

he was heavily misunderstood by the media, and Colson was not ‘Machine Gun Kelly’. he was Colson Baker. you tried to explain that he was so much more than what the media portrayed, but your parents were more of the seeing rather than believing type.

with that all said, you were happy to be out of the house. you were tired of constantly arguing for and defending your friendship. anytime you got super defensive of Colson, your family accused you of being in love with him. were you? hell yeah. but, you weren’t going to admit that to anyone. you ran from your feelings, remember?

once you finally landed at the airport in Syracuse, you texted the guys.

colson baker: in line waiting for you

colson baker: north pick up line

colson baker: black escalade

when you finally made it out the doors with your baggage, you searched for the black escalade. you attention was pulled to the sound of doors opening, and you found Colson on the passenger side of the car as Pete climbed into the backseat. you smiled as you watched the guys. you made your way to them.

“hi,” you smile.

“hi,” Colson replied looking down at you.

you kinda forgot what it was like to be around six-foot giants. Colson moved to take your bag from you before putting it in the trunk. after you helped him load up your bag, he took your hand and led you to the passenger seat.

before you could hop in, he grabbed you and kissed you. you moved to grip the fabric of his jacket as you kissed him back.

“did you just kiss her? what? did he just kiss you?” Pete asked dumbfounded from the backseat as he looked back and forth from you and Colson.

you laughed to yourself as you buckled your seat belt while Colson made his way to the driver’s seat. as he hopped in and buckled up, he turned to you. you laughed before turning to Pete.

“anyone want to answer me? did you kiss her?” Pete said slapping Colson’s shoulder with the back of his hand.

“yeah, I did. what are you going to do about it?” Colson raised an eyebrow at him.

you laughed picking at the skin of your lip.

“what the hell? am I third wheeling this whole trip?”

“dude, you would have had me third wheeling this whole trip if we didn’t invite her.”

“how long?” Pete whined. “how long has this been a thing?”

“since my birthday,” you reply quietly.

“since your birthday,” he said dropping his jaw. “that was months ago.”

“I know,” you laugh. “to be fair, we haven’t seen each other much since. we’ve been talking and stuff, though.”

“what the hell, guys.”

you and Colson both laughed as he pulled out of his spot in line and drove toward your hotel.

“oh, I told my parents about you, and they googled you. they aren’t very happy.”

“fantastic.”

you spent your first day on set waiting around for the guys in Pete’s trailer before your call time. you and Colson sat and talked, just being close to each other after months apart. once it was finally your call time, you got your makeup and hair done, which wasn’t much considering you were just an extra in a scene.

the director had you placed at a bar table with two other girls. drinks were all placed in front of you. you fixed your hair a bit before the director called action. the scene began and you just kept your head down, while you waited for your cue. one of the guys walked up to your table and began talking to the three of you. the camera panned over to your table, and the guy began his lines. you smiled and laughed at him.

“I already have a tab open so if you want another-”

“hey,” Pete yelled catching your attention. “I’m sorry about our friend. we found him in a dumpster. he’s a rescue. sorry”

“it’s okay,” the girl next to you yelled.

“aw don’t worry. he’s got all of his shots though, so he won’t bite,” Pete called back.

“oh,” the girl laughed. “what about your puppy?”

“who? Mo?”

“yeah, he looks a little young to be in here.”

“you look a little old to be in here,” Pete shot back. you had to hold in your laugh.

“CUT,” the director yelled. “let’s do it one more time, just in case, and then move on.”

you repeated the scene once more before everyone moved on to the next part of your scene. the guys all crowded around your small table. Colson stood behind Pete, who was sitting on one of the barstools.

“you guys look great. can we get another girl on the other side of Griffin please?” the director asked, gesturing to the second lead in the film. “(y/n), can you move?”

“yeah,” you reply before hopping out of your seat to sit on the other side of Griffin. you then realized that you were directly in the camera’s line of vision.

you looked up at Colson who was across the table from you. he sent you a wink before taking a drink of whatever liquid was in his glass. you smiled back at him before Pete reached across the table to fist bump you. you laughed at him before getting ready for the scene.

the director moved back and called “Action.”

“Mo actually got back from the army,” Pete started his lines.

“yeah?” you respond.

“yeah, he was there for 16 years,” Pete replied to you.

“let’s not talk about, yeah,” Griffin responded giving Pete and Colson a look.

“anyway, yeah, he hasn’t been laid in 16 years. how crazy is that?” Pete said before Colson could interrupt him.

“aye, to Mo,” Colson said bring his glass in.

“to Mo,” the table responded crashing the glasses together.

“welcome back brother,” Colson said.

“yeah, man.”

“hoo-rah, right?” Colson said clinking his glass to yours.

“hoo-rah,” Griffin cheered back.

“hey, may we all make it to heaven before the devil knows we’re dead, baby,” Colson yelled.

“YEAH,” Pete cheered back beating his chest like a frat boy.

“cheers,” Griffin called before clinking his glass to yours.

“wait. what does that mean?” Pete asked.

“like, we’re sinners and-and-” Colson nodded his head. “and, bad motherfuckers, and he’s coming to suck us back…” Colson paused to do a little motion before continuing. “he wants us.”

“isn’t that, like a Buzz Frontier song?” the other guy asked, and Colson looked up at him.

“who wants us?” Pete interrupts looking at Colson. “what did he do? what did we do?”

“Satan, motherfucker, wants us,” Colson said moving his head to emphasize each word.

he then bent his head back up before making eye contact with you. one of the other girls began to laugh, which caused the table to laugh with her. Colson sent you another wink, and you smiled back at him.

“Cut,” the director called. “that was good. let’s do it one more time.”

you were sad that your scene was over. you liked working with Pete and Colson. after you finished getting out of your costume, you put your clothes back on before heading to Pete’s trailer. in there, Pete and Colson were lounging on the furniture.

“what are you two doing?” you laugh as you close the trailer door behind you.

“waiting for you,” Pete shot back.

“what’s the plan?” you asked taking a seat on the couch next to Colson.

he wrapped an arm around you.

“I have to shoot for a few more hours, but we can meet up later,” Pete suggested.

“do you want to go out?” Colson asked you. “while we wait.”

“sure,” you nodded. “what time do you think you’ll be done?” you asked Pete.

“not sure, but I’ll text you.” Pete stood up from his seat. “I have to get back, but I’ll see you later.”

“aight,” Colson replied reaching to dab up Pete.

Pete took his hand before patting you on the head.

“bye Pete,” you call to him as he leaves.

“bye, be safe,” he laughs back at the two of you.

as you watched the door of the trailer shut, you felt a pair of eyes on you. you turned to find Colson staring down at you.

“what?” you laugh at him. “do I have something on my face?”

“no.” he gave you a small smile.

“then, stop staring at me like that.”

“staring at you like what?”

“like that,” you said pointing at his face. “making me feel self-conscious.”

“can’t help that you’re really pretty.”

“and that’s my cue to go,” you say starting to get up from the couch.

Colson laughed behind you before pulling you back onto the couch.

“do you want to go to the mall?” he asked smiling at you. “then I can take you out for that dinner you promised me.”

“ohhhh, I guess I did promise you a dinner,” you hum. “let’s go then.”

“try it on.”

“no. did you see how many zeros were on that tag?”

“jesus, just try it on.”

“no.”

“get in that goddamn dressing room and try on the goddamn dress,” Colson mutter quietly to you.

Colson had dragged you into some fancy boutique to “buy you a dress.” you resisted, of course, and the fact that he was so willing to buy you an expensive dress scared you. you were very responsible with your money, and you never splurged on yourself. this, of course, was not going over well with Colson now that you were refusing to even try on a dress that was more than a hundred dollars.

“Colson, it’s really expensive,” you softly say looking up at him.

“so?” he shrugged. “please let me buy you something nice.” he gave you the closest thing he could to ‘puppy dog eyes.’

“jesus, fine,” you breathe pulling yourself from his eyes. “I’m trying it on, but if I don’t like it, you’re not buying it.”

“scouts honor,” he said holding up his hand.

with that, you snatched the hot pink mini dress from his hands and marched toward the dressing room. you could hear Colson lightly laughing at you as he watched you.

once you made it into the dressing room, you took a seat on the bench. you put your head in your hands before taking a breath. were you doing this? yes, and it went against every bone in your body. after you settled yourself down, you began to take off your clothes before trying on the dress.

once you began to slip on the dress, you couldn’t get it to zip up. you tried every angle possible, but the zipper wouldn’t budge. you let out a heavy sigh before collecting yourself. you peeked through the sliver of the door to see if Colson was outside the dressing room. you found him browsing at a rack of clothes a few feet from your dressing room.

you opened the door by a crack before poking your head out.

“Colson,” you whisper-yelled to him.

his head perked up before finding you. he began to stalk closer to you.

“how does it look?” he asked when he got to you.

“I think I need a bigger size,” you admitted to him.

“I’ll go grab the next size up, but can I at least see it?”

“no, it won’t zip up,” you shot back.

“can I try?”

“can you try?”

“jesus christ,” he sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. “just turn around.”

you opened the door a bit more before turning around. you felt him place his hands on your hips before finding the zipper.

“this should totally zip,” he whispered in your ear. “the zipper’s just stuck.”

you felt him move the zipper down before pulling it back up. the dress finally zipped.

you sighed once the dress finally fit properly. as you glanced in the mirror, you fell in love with the dress. you looked good. it was almost as if the dress was made for your body. it didn’t gap in weird places, and it wasn’t too snug. it felt perfect, and for its price, you were glad it was perfect. it would be a rip-off if it wasn’t.

“damn,” Colson whispered.

“damn,” you nodded.

“you’re getting it.”

“I’m not going to fight you on it,” you reply turning around to face him. “now, get out so I can get dressed.”

“at least, let me unzip you first,” he laughed.

four hours and a shopping trip later, you and Colson were sitting in some fancy restaurant together. he was in a fashionable shirt and jacket while you sat in your hot pink mini dress.

“thank you for dinner,” you say reaching across the table to take his hand.

“you’re welcome,” he smiled at you after he handed the paid check back to the waitress. “I promised you a dinner, didn’t i?”

“you did,” you laugh.

“you wanna get out of here?” he suggests nodding toward the door.

“sure,” you nod back.

with that, he moved to help you out of your chair. with his hand in yours, the two of you headed to his rental car. he opened the passenger door for you. before you could get in the car, you turned and placed a hand on his cheek.

his eyes met yours, and your heart melted. his hands landed on your waist, and he pulled you close before planting his lips on yours. you leaned up to kiss him back. and there you were, standing in the parking lot of a fancy restaurant making out like a bunch of teenagers.

at sunset, the two of you were sitting at the private rooftop patio of your hotel. you were both laying on one of the daybeds watching the sky change colors. you were deep in thought.

“I’m scared,” you admit staring up at the sky.

“scared?” Colson quietly asked you from where he was laying next to you.

“yeah,” you breathe. “I don’t do relationships. I run from them. maybe it’s my fear of rejection or my fear of getting hurt.” you pause for a moment. “I really like you. like really, really like you. and part of me is scared because I don’t want to get hurt, but I want a relationship. I want love, you know?”

“I get it,” he murmured next to you.

you were both at the point of the night where deep conversations were rolling. should you have been so honest with him? who knows. would you regret it tomorrow? maybe. but, right now, it had been said.

“and, I want a relationship with you.” he rolled over on his side to face you. “I’m just scared because I don’t want to be just another girl for you. you buy me a pretty dress and take me to dinner with the hopes that I land in your bed tonight, and it makes me wonder,” you whisper.

you could feel his gaze. he took one of your hands and placed a kiss on the backside of it.

“you and I both know my track record with relationships kinda suck,” he starts. “but, I want this to work.” he brushed a peace of hair from your face. “I’ve never felt this way with anyone, and I’m going to be completely honest when I say it scares the shit out of me. and, if it makes you more comfortable, we can take this relationship at whatever speed you want it to go. I just want to be with you. I want to make this work, and I want to be a part of your life. I want this relationship to be more than just texts at 4 am and kissing you once every three months.”

you were both quiet for a bit. you were processing what he had said. he wants this to work. he wants to be with you. he wants this relationship, and he wants it to be more.

“I’m gonna fall in love with you if you keep saying shit like that,” you whisper after your moment of silence.

“good,” he smiled placing a hand on your cheek. “because, I’m falling in love with you.”

your breath caught in your throat. you wrapped your arms around his neck before pulling him down to you. he placed his lips on yours and kissed you. laying there in the daybed, you kissed him back.

“be my whatever,” he whispered.

“be your whatever?” you ask raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, whatever you want to call yourself. just be mine. be mine, baby.”

“okay.”

and you kissed him once more.

not sure how i feel about this. hopefully, this does justice for a part two, anon. i hope you enjoyed. feel free to send requests. - rose xx

#colson baker #colson baker imagines #colson baker x reader #machine gun kelly imagines #machine gun kelly x reader

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