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animanganerd · 7 months

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Everything Annoys Me And I’m (Too) Hot - Chapter 15

The Untamed / Mo Dao Zu Shi Fanfic

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47881336/chapters/127864741

All chapters: here x

Chapter 15 ❖ Wandering families crossing paths (Part 2)

The next day, at a market in a quaint town. On one side, Wen Kexing was glued to Zhou Zishu as they browsed through the variety of jewellery and accessories on offer with the intention of picking a matching pair, while on the other side, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji walked arm in arm, stopping at every food stall to buy all the food Wei Wuxian desired.

Visibly annoyed by his parents’ infatuated behaviour, Lan Xiaoli sat down at a random table, all the while shaking his head and staring at them with a dark expression.

“Embarrassing parents?” a voice asked, startling Lan Xiaoli. He hadn’t noticed that the table was already occupied.

The voice belonged to a youth around his age. The friendly features of the young man’s face were only interrupted by the cheeky glimmer in his eyes. But he didn’t have a malicious aura about him, so Lan Xiaoli quickly shook off his initial shock and nodded, his face still clouded with gloom.

“I know that feel,” the other sighed with a knowing smile and pointed with his thumb at two men behind him.

It seemed like Lan Xiaoli wasn’t the only one troubled by his adopted parents being obnoxious love birds in public. Yet, Lan Xiaoli was startled once again. One of the two men had white hair – just like him!

Lan Xiaoli’s staring must’ve been obvious, as the youth asked him, “Do you want to talk to them?”

“Wha–,” but before Lan Xiaoli could deny it, the other had already called out to the two men. They promptly walked over and joined the boy on his side of the table, all three of them now facing Lan Xiaoli.

“This brother has a question for you,” the youth said, after they had introduced each other.

The boy’s name was Zhang Chengling. The taller man with white hair was called Wen Kexing and the other man’s name was Zhou Zishu, although he was introduced as “A-Xu” by his partner.

The two men looked at Lan Xiaoli with expectation, but also with a clear sense of patience. Heat shot into Lan Xiaoli’s cheeks; he could practically feel his face turn red. He’d never had any problems with acting like a brat towards his dads, but in front of strangers he turned into a shy, well-behaved boy.

“Y-Your hair…,” he finally stammered, addressing Wen Kexing. “How can you live with it? Do others not bully you?”

The question took the others by surprise, their expressions turning blank. A moment later, Wen Kexing laughed heartily. “Bully? Me? No, I don’t get bullied.”

Lan Xiaoli gaped at him. “Like… never? In your whole life?”

Wen Kexing shook his head, still chuckling. “My hair just turned white recently,” he explained.

Lan Xiaoli furrowed his brows in confusion. “How does your hair just… turn white?”

Of course it couldn’t be expected that people knew about the sacrificing ritual, as Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu had only learned about it themselves in the armoury on Changming Mountain, so Wen Kexing elaborated.

“When you love someone veeeeeery much...,” he started, his tone similar to that of a parent explaining how babies were made, but he was interrupted by Zhou Zishu, who had shoved his elbow into Wen Kexing’s ribs, and gave a proper explanation.

“In order to save my life, he had to sacrifice his meridians. His hair turning white shows the trade was successful.”

This piqued Lan Xiaoli’s curiosity even more. Could it be that he’d been part of something similar in his past? Was his white hair related to him not being able to form a golden core? Had his ability to become a cultivator already been destroyed before his dads had picked him up?

He probed, “Sacrifice?”

“Yes, it’s a complicated and dangerous technique. But we don’t want to bore you with specifics, let’s talk about something more pleasant,” Zhou Zishu suggested with a kind smile.

“No, please, I want to hear it,” Lan Xiaoli pressed.

“Me too!” Zhang Chengling chimed in. So far, Zhou Zishu had only given him a brief summary of what had transpired on Changming Mountain.

Zhou Zishu was a little taken aback by their enthusiasm.

Wen Kexing, on the other hand, grinned. As he knew the most about the ritual, he gladly obliged and started again, “It’s a technique that allows you to rescue someone from certain death. It takes two people to perform the ritual and requires genuine qi, which needs to be refined over a long period of time and can be so fierce that no common body can contain it. I received the qi from an ugly monster-- oof!” Another jab from Zhou Zishu’s elbow.

Wen Kexing rubbed his abdomen and continued, “Anyway, that’s not the point. The one carrying the refined qi has to transfer it to the dying person. To help this person escape death, the qi carrier needs to fully destroy his meridians in the process.”

Even though Lan Xiaoli was incredibly interested and listened attentively to every word, a flash of disappointment crossed his face at the end of the story. Hearing Wen Kexing’s explanation, it was rather unlikely he’d been part of such a ritual as a child. What’s more, he probably wouldn’t have forgotten it, would he?

The disappointed look on Lan Xiaoli’s face didn’t go unnoticed by Zhou Zishu’s keen eyes. His own expression softened, and with a hint of a friendly smile, he asked, “Why do you want to know about this?”

Lan Xiaoli paused for a moment. He lowered his eyes before he started to explain, “My natural hair is white too, and for some reason, people had nothing but hurtful words for me. At some point I just could not take the bullying any longer and dyed it black. My father was not amused, but my life has certainly been more pleasant ever since. Still, I could not stop wondering why my hair was so different. But after hearing your story, I can say with certainty that I have sacrificed nothing for it. My dad said I was born with it, but I think… or at least hope there is more to it.”

As he spoke, he stared at his hands, clasped together in his lap. Once he was done explaining, he looked up again. “That is why I was so astonished to see someone else carrying white hair with such confidence.”

Just as Lan Xiaoli finished his sentence, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian joined the small group.

Upon seeing Hanguang-jun, Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu quickly stood up to respectfully greet the other couple. Not only were they younger, they of course had heard of the mighty Hanguang-jun and his partner. After a short round of introductions, Lan Xiaoli gave his dads a brief account of their conversation.

The random table Lan Xiaoli had picked just happened to belong to a tavern. Since the new acquaintances had taken some of their precious time to listen to the teenager’s woes, Wei Wuxian deemed them friendly and invited them for a meal and a few drinks. As soon as alcohol was involved, the mood lightened up considerably. They spent hours telling each other stories of the adventures they’d been on, their spirited and boisterous laughter echoing through the stillness of the night.

Lan Wangji and Lan Xiaoli were the first to retire, quickly followed by Zhang Chengling, albeit involuntarily. If he wasn’t such a lightweight, Zhang Chengling would’ve stayed up much longer. Zhou Zishu, who was the most sober at this point, saw it as his responsibility to help the teen into bed, and decided to call it a night for himself, leaving Wei Wuxian and Wen Kexing to their fun.

Before going to bed, however, Zhou Zishu stood and admired the accessories he and Wen Kexing had bought at the market, when he was suddenly squeezed tightly from behind.

Apparently, Wen Kexing couldn’t bear to be separated from his beloved for any longer than necessary and had followed Zhou Zishu. Seeing that slender waist of Zhou Zishu, Wen Kexing couldn’t resist the temptation and hugged him, kissing him all over.

Zhou Zishu was in an excellent mood that night and didn’t resist, giving in to all of Wen Kexing’s desires.

During their drinking bout, Wen Kexing had talked about the sacrificing ritual in full detail. The two had never talked about what had happened in the armoury, and Zhou Zishu had never pressed Wen Kexing for details. This was the first time Zhou Zishu had heard the full story, and his heart was so moved by the lengths Wen Kexing had gone to save his life that it had gone entirely weak.

The alcohol he’d consumed that night may also have played a part.

The two of them spent a very passionate night together, with Zhou Zishu even being so generous as to try new positions and everything.

The next morning, Wen Kexing woke up with Zhou Zishu in his arms. It took him a good minute to realise that they were both naked. He jolted up.

“Did we do it?!?” he asked, shaken.

Zhou Zishu slowly came to and uttered a muffled sound of confirmation, still groggy from last night. With Wen Kexing’s indignant screech ringing in his ears, Zhou Zishu had awakened to the point where he couldn’t easily fall back asleep, so he sluggishly got out of bed.

“I can’t remember a thing!” Wen Kexing said with a cracking voice, clutching the blanket. Ever since they had stopped playing games, their nightly activities had become a rare visitor again.

Zhou Zishu picked up a piece of clothing and simply shrugged off Wen Kexing’s remark. “Not my problem.” Then, while putting on his robe, he turned around to send him a cocky smirk.

“Show me what we did!” Wen Kexing demanded.

But Zhou Zishu only shook his head. “Re-enacting it won’t be the same.”

And with that, he stalked out, leaving behind a speechless and deeply upset Wen Kexing, who watched his retreating back with his mouth agape in disbelief.

Once he’d recovered from his shock, Wen Kexing swiftly got dressed as well and decided to consult Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. He scurried through the whole tavern, knocking on all the doors until he found them.

The two looked at him in surprise.

“Last night,” Wen Kexing began, out of breath, “Lan Xiaoli said he wanted to learn the truth about his past and happened to mention someone who could restore memories.”

Wen Kexing took a short moment to catch his breath. “I am also in dire need of remembering something,” he explained, leaving out the specifics. “Since we have the same destination, we might as well travel together. What do you say?”

Wei Wuxian glanced at Lan Wangji who showed no reaction.

Their reluctance made Wen Kexing sweat a little. Afraid they might say no, he put on his best puppy dog eyes to try and persuade them.

Lan Wangji didn’t object, so Wei Wuxian just shrugged and agreed to his proposal. Their new friends had passed his appraisal with flying colours. Not only were they kind, but from what Wei Wuxian could tell after last night, Wen Kexing was definitely a fun guy, too.

To restrain his smile and prevent his delight from overflowing, Wen Kexing quickly cupped his hands in gratitude, and turned on his heel to find Zhou Zishu and Zhang Chengling.

Both were a little stumped at the “joyous” news, exchanging a helpless glance. But they knew that once Wen Kexing had set his mind to something, he could not be dissuaded, so they really had no choice but to agree to this journey.

Still, Zhou Zishu couldn’t help but feel that Wen Kexing was overreacting. He kneaded his throbbing temples, trying to rub the headache away. Why was he so keen on remembering a damn night?

But then again, he’d always had a tendency to be overdramatic.

⬩ ❖ ⬩ ❖ ⬩ ❖ ⬩

For such a large group, a donkey was no longer sufficient for travelling. Instead, they upgraded to two horse-drawn carriages, with the teens in charge of driving.

Lan Xiaoli had managed to work out a rough direction from what little information he had gleaned from various tales and legends, and there was a long road ahead. Since none of the books or scriptures he’d studied ever mentioned a specific location, all they could do was travel from one northern mountain village to the next, asking the residents if they had heard of or knew anything about this immortal that could restore memories.

During their journey, Wen Kexing and Wei Wuxian became great drinking buddies, their spirited laughter often disrupting the peace and quiet of the night. The two got along very well in general, sometimes a little too well for Lan Wangji’s liking. But with Wen Kexing’s heart firmly set on Zhou Zishu, there was nothing to worry about.

While the grownups hung out together, Lan Xiaoli and Zhang Chengling learned a lot about each other’s practices.

Lan Xiaoli was truly amazed by Zhang Chengling’s skills, and while he knew it was inappropriate to use another family’s techniques, he still wanted to learn them.

He was careful in his approach to ask his dads for permission, putting on his most obedient expression. “Would it be alright for Chengling-xiong to teach me some of his moves?”

Lan Wangji’s brow slightly knitted, but before he could say anything, Lan Xiaoli quickly put forth, “In exchange, he can participate as a guest student in our morning lessons!”

Wei Wuxian was patiently waiting for Lan Wangji to answer, but the latter was just kneeling rigidly with a ramrod straight back, as if his body was frozen while his brain was working hard. The deal Lan Xiaoli had offered wasn’t too bad, so Wei Wuxian nudged Lan Wangji with his elbow and whispered, “Martial arts don’t necessarily require spiritual energy, so it’d be a nice alternative. Plus, it’ll be good for him to have a friend his own age.”

After hearing Wei Wuxian’s input, Lan Wangji’s body slightly relaxed. He closed his eyes and inclined his head in agreement.

Lan Xiaoli’s face lit up. “Thank you!!” he blurted, stumbling a little as he jumped to his feet. He immediately rushed over to Zhang Chengling, who then taught him some martial art basics that didn’t rely on any internal forces.

Once Lan Xiaoli was familiar with the fundamentals, Zhang Chengling proceeded to demonstrate a simple technique – first as a whole, then step by step. Lan Xiaoli repeated each move as demonstrated by Zhang Chengling, following the step-by-step guidance. Zhang Chengling watched his moves carefully and found only little to criticise.

“Your body tension is already quite impressive, there are only a few adjustments needed. First of all, it’s important to keep your fingers tightly closed on your blocking hand. And when swinging your fist, remember to slightly tilt your elbow upward. This allows you to use both your fist and elbow to strike, so you can knock out two opponents at once in the best case scenario.

“And lastly, your forward step. The semicircular motion needs to be bigger. Your goal is to step around your opponent and spin on your heel to get out of their sight.”

Lan Xiaoli nodded at all the points Zhang Chengling brought up. Zhang Chengling showed him the steps once more, and Lan Xiaoli repeated them.

Zhang Chengling clapped his hands in excitement. “That’s it! Well done!”

He taught Lan Xiaoli a variety of techniques throughout their journey, and as they progressed to more complex techniques, they continued their practice under the supervision of Zhou Zishu.

In return, Zhang Chengling attended Lan Wangji’s morning lessons as promised. At first, it was difficult for him to rise at mao time, but over time, he adapted to the early mornings. Zhang Chengling was eager to learn with plenty to catch up on, and Lan Xiaoli gladly offered his assistance.

Supporting each other with word and deed in their own field of expertise, the two youths formed a strong bond comparable to brothers. Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing, too, became as close as uncles to Lan Xiaoli.

Zhou Zishu reminded Lan Xiaoli very much of his father. He was a strict and nitpicky teacher, who was not to be trifled with. But the similarities went far beyond their teaching styles. However, while Zhou Zishu was also on the calm and quiet side, he was not quite as taciturn and expressionless as Lan Wangji. Still, he had an incredibly discreet aura. Time and again, Lan Xiaoli had failed to notice his presence, jumping in fright when Zhou Zishu suddenly spoke up.

Wen Kexing on the other hand liked to joke around. He was rather outspoken and had a tendency to whine and nag, especially at Zhou Zishu. Despite his somewhat childish demeanour, Wen Kexing was attentive and took great care of everyone. He was, for example, a much better cook than Wei Wuxian, in Lan Xiaoli’s opinion.

The most positive and astonishing side effect of having the others around was a change in Lan Xiaoli’s behaviour. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were delighted to see that he had finally dropped his bratty attitude and was generally more agreeable.

As they spent more time together, the two families developed a close friendship. They openly shared their thoughts on various subjects, occasionally agreeing and sometimes disagreeing. In the latter case, some nights culminated in heated arguments, especially when Wen Kexing and Wei Wuxian had too much to drink. But by morning, it was all forgiven and forgotten.

After a long day of riding up a particularly steep mountain pass, man and horse alike needed a rest.

Lan Xiaoli and Zhang Chengling guided the carriages to a limpid river that flowed parallel to their pathway. Although the northern air was crisp and clear, it wasn’t cold enough to freeze the water. The stream’s lapping disrupted the otherwise tranquil atmosphere as it languidly rippled away. To reach the river, they had to ride through a small patch of woods.

It wasn’t long before nightfall, so the group decided this was a good place to set up camp for the night. The climate of the cold mountain range in the north was harsh, hence only few people had settled here. There weren’t many villages, let alone towns and never mind cities. Road houses and travel huts were few and far between, but thanks to a few neat tricks, Lan Xiaoli and company were able to isolate their carriages and spend the night in them if necessary.

While Lan Xiaoli helped Wei Wuxian make talismans to keep them warm and ward off evil, Zhang Chengling and Zhou Zishu went to catch fish for dinner. Meanwhile, Lan Wangji and Wen Kexing prepared their carriages for the night.

To work on their tasks, the three parties had to split up. While Lan Xiaoli and Wei Wuxian sat at the edge of the forest to catch the last of the sunlight, Zhou Zishu and Zhang Chengling had gone to the river, and Lan Wangji and Wen Kexing busied themselves inside the forest.

Lan Xiaoli didn’t know how long they’d been working on the talismans, but as soon as he’d finished a batch, he went to hand it to the two men toiling in the forest. However, after a good ten minutes of trekking along the forest path, Lan Xiaoli still hadn’t reached Lan Wangji and Wen Kexing. When he found no trace of them after another ten minutes, he began to wonder.

How far into the woods did they bring the carriages?

He walked and walked, passing tree after tree, but he just couldn’t find them. After an unknown amount of time had passed, he simply scratched his head and, with a shrug, decided to return to his dad.

He marched all the way back from whence he’d come – or so he thought. After wandering for a while longer, his heart began to pound.

…Did he just get lost? How could this be?!

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #fanfiction #fanfic #mdzs fanfic #mdzs fanfiction #everything annoys me and i'm too hot #eamaith #wei wuxian/lan wangji #wwx/lwj #zhou zishu/wen kexing #zzs/wkx #woh #word of honor #adoption #found family #original characters #crossover

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

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Perfect Opposites

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 1843

Find it on AO3

Tagging: @today-in-fic

It’s jealousy that fuels all the gossip, and the unkind comments. Jealousy from the men because she’ll never so much as give them a passing glance, and jealousy from the women because they feel inferior in her presence. Because thanks to her, Fox Mulder is no longer a prize to be won by new recruits. Gone are the betting pools about which young, sexy new agent would successfully take him to bed (the tall brunette always had the most bets), and numerous are the men who boasted to their buddies that they would be the one to get her number, to take her out, to fuck her, with nothing to show for it. She didn’t even bother to reject them, just ignored their attempts at small talk and walked away with a tight lipped smile, leaving their egos bruised and “ice queen” on their lips. They called him Spooky because as whacky as his ideas were, he could still charm their girlfriend into a weekend fling with minimal effort and they knew it. They were all jealous, from the seasoned senior agents to the ones fresh from Quantico. Every last one.

I’ve always taken a special interest in them, Agent Mulder and Agent Scully, given my history. I noticed Agent Mulder and Agent Fowley too, before, but I knew it wasn’t anything special. I didn’t see myself in them the way I do when I watch him with Scully. I picked up on the difference right away; how he looked at her, and touched her casually. I saw something familiar in his gaze, the sadness and the longing. She seemed oblivious to it for the first few years, always so painfully poised and professional, but eventually she caught on. While everyone else called her “ice queen” behind her back, I saw how she leaned into him when he whispered in her ear, and the quirk of a smile that played at the corners of her lips. That same sadness and longing in her eyes when she looked at him, stealing glances while he was focused on AD Skinner at the front of the room. Sometimes they’d touch the other’s knee under the table and exchange a knowing look. I can’t see through tables, but if you know what you’re looking for, you’ll find it. And I knew she wasn’t cold and without feelings. She just didn’t allow very many people in, but she allowed him in.

When Agent Fowley came back, I immediately thought of Agent Scully and how she might be feeling. She’d probably be threatened, and jealous, though she really didn’t need to be. Agent Mulder never once looked at Agent Fowley the way he looks at her, even when they were in a relationship. Even when they lived together. I guess Agent Scully doesn’t know what I know, because I saw how upset she was by Agent Fowley’s presence. The set of her jaw, the way she crossed her legs and leaned away from Agent Mulder, putting distance between them both physically and emotionally. She was protecting herself, or trying to. It’s been painful for me to watch, though I know I’m biased in wanting them to be together. I’ve told myself over and over not to get involved, that she probably doesn’t even know I exist, much less will she listen to what I have to say. She’s a private person, she would never talk to me about something she likely hasn’t even admitted to herself. My resolve crumbled, though, the day I saw her crying in her car in the parking garage.

I can’t know for sure that’s why she was crying, I will admit as much. But because I’ve been there and walked that path, and because I’ve been watching them for so long, I feel so strongly that she was crying over him. Over her, Agent Fowley, stealing Agent Mulder away. She doesn’t need to worry, but she does, and it just hurt my heart to see it. I told myself that if I ever happened to be alone with her, I would say something. I can’t recall ever having been alone with her before, so if it happened by chance, it would be a sign.

Imagine my surprise when I was washing my hands in the bathroom and she came out of the only other occupied stall, eyes puffy and the final sniffs of a covert crying session still crinkling her nose. It was only she and I in the bathroom. It was the sign I was looking for.

I said “hello” and she looked at me startled, like she hadn’t even realized I was there. That happens a lot lately, I’ve noticed. While I was once the young hot thing at the bureau, my late 50’s haven’t been especially kind. You become invisible, as an aging woman. Someday she might know what that’s like too.

“Hi” she responded, curtly, but not without some warmth. She wasn’t rude, but she also wasn’t looking to chat.

“Agent Scully, I realize you probably don’t know me from a hole in the wall, but-“

“-Agent Hansen, right?” She forced a smile. I didn’t do a very good job hiding my surprise that she knew my name. I nodded, and barreled on before I lost my nerve. She’s even more beautiful up close than she is across a conference room table.

“Right, Agent Hansen. Um, I don’t mean to be nosy, and I’m not asking you to share any personal information or anything, but I wanted to tell you…”

She was watching me suspiciously by way of the mirror while she washed her hands. Just get it out, damnit.

“…I just wanted to tell you that you don’t need to worry about Agent Fowley.”

She straightened up and turned to face me while she dried. If I thought she looked suspicious before, I didn’t know how many flavors of suspicion she possessed.

“How do you mean?” She asked me, and I knew she was curious even more than she was uncomfortable.

“I mean, you don’t need to worry about her and Agent Mulder. He’s not in love with her.”

She balked.

“What? Why would you say that to me? Agent Mulder is my partner. Nothing more.”

Sensing that she was about to bolt, I went for it.

“Agent Scully, just hear me out, okay? You don’t have to say anything, but please listen. I was like you once. I’ve been with the bureau a long time, and when I was in my late 20’s I was assigned a partner who was nothing like me at all. He was tidy and methodical and I have more of a ‘bull in china shop’ approach to life. But we became very close, and after several years we became…involved. He was the love of my life, and when I see you and Agent Mulder together, the way he looks at you, it reminds me of the way Harry used to look at me. I was here when Agent Mulder and Agent Fowley were together, as partners and as lovers, and I can tell you that he NEVER looked at her the way he looks at you. I know that she’s intimidating and it’s got you all out of sorts, I can see that, and I just wanted to tell you that you don’t need to worry.”

Her expression was rapt but also quite emotionless.

“You can see what? What makes you think I…that Agent Fowley bothers me?”

I shook my head and waved my arms to indicate that she didn’t need to worry about THAT either.

“No no, it’s not obvious, Agent Scully. I know you work very hard to hide it. I only notice because, well this sounds creepy I’m sure, but I’ve always taken an interest in you, because you remind me of myself. It’s only because I’ve observed you so much with Agent Mulder that I can see how much she bothers you.”

She let out a breath of relief, then looked around the bathroom, as though it had just occurred to her to make sure no one else was in there.

“So, you and your partner, you got together?” She didn’t look at my face when she asked. She was embarrassed to even be curious.

“Yes, we did, about 8 years after we were assigned to work together.”

“And, um, what happened? At work?” Curiosity got the better of her after all.

“We were split up, and he was reassigned to VCU. I’ve been here in the bullpen ever since. We got married, had two beautiful daughters.” Because I know her expressions so well, I caught the almost-smile that she quickly suppressed.

“Is he still in VCU?” The wrinkle in her eyebrows told me she was trying to figure out who he was. All the guys down there these days are pretty young.

“He passed away a couple years ago, from a heart attack. But he worked up until the day he died.”

Her hand reflexively went to the cross at her neck, her mouth falling open in an “I’m so sorry” look that I’ve become very familiar with since Harry died. I kept talking to save her from offering condolences.

“It’s sad, yes, but we had 20 wonderful years together. Harry said we were ‘perfect opposites’ and that we each made half of a whole person. So you can see, then, why I can see my own story in you and Agent Mulder. Maybe you’re not ready, yet, to take that next step, and that’s okay. It took us 8 years. But I see how much you’re bothered by Agent Fowley and I just promised myself that if I ever had a chance, I’d tell you that you don’t need to worry. Agent Mulder is in love with you.”

She looked at me then, shocked, like I’d said something unspeakable. She opened her mouth to protest, but then closed it, looked at the floor and said “thank you” so quietly I almost didn’t hear her.

I left then, pretty sure I had done all I could. I told AD Skinner I wasn’t feeling well and took the rest of the day off, and stopped by the coffee shop around the corner to get two drips; one black and one with cream and sugar. After that I drove out to the little cemetery to visit Harry, and tell him what I did. As always, I poured his black coffee into the ground for him, and sipped mine while I updated him on our favorite star-crossed agents, the other set of ‘perfect opposites.’ I wish that he had lived to see the day they finally get their heads out of their asses, but if they’re anything like us, they’ll need plenty of time to accept the obvious. And if they’re anything like us, once they finally come to their senses, they’ll wish desperately that they hadn’t wasted one minute on this Earth not loving each other, because forever is never as long as you think it will be.

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thai-with-booty · 3 years

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The mall - Part I

This is a story I wrote a while back, but wasn’t ready to share and kept coming back to rather than writing all in one go. It was based around a few years ago when I and my husband were very new to the idea or being more open as we are now.

I can't believe that I am really doing this. Walking in the mall, wearing slutty black high heels (Id never normally wear high heels to a mall), a black silk mini-skirt with a tiny lace thong underneath and a flimsy white silk blouse with just a thin lace bra underneath. My nervousness is causing tiny beads of sweat to form and trickle down my blouse. I had a bet with my husband, over a stupid game, I don’t even remember now what it was, but I remember it being something so small and insignificant, with the loser having to do whatever the other wanted for a full day. I had his day all planned out: fixing my dresser and doing all kinds of stuff around the house. I was sure that I was going to win, but here I am in the mall looking like when I was 22 and working in a bar. If I had known what he wanted me to do, I never would have made the bet.

I feel like a slut and I know that I look like one, too, but somehow a part of me is enjoying this. All of the men staring at me is really doing something to me. I can feel the moistness between my legs and an urge to show off more of myself.

When I first started out today, I was very self-conscious and kept my arms crossed in front of my chest, but realizing that this just brought more attention to myself, I forced myself to act naturally; and soon I realized that I enjoyed having their eyes undress me. I have even found myself trying to catch men looking at me, watching their faces as their eyes wander all over my over-exposed body. Earlier, I spied a guy staring at me, and without even realizing what I was doing, I stretched my arms up, pressing my breasts against the blouse enjoying the look on his face as he stared at my breasts straining the fabric of my blouse. I am supposed to meet my husband in the food court for some new instructions and I can only imagine what he has planned for me next.

I think those three guys are following me. As I stop and pretend to be interested in a window display, I notice that they stopped also. As I continue on, I see that they are right behind me. I have to admit that, as nervous as I am, I am also very turned-on by this.

Oops, I just dropped my purse. As I bend over to pick it up, I can feel this tiny silk skirt ride up my behind, as my nearly naked booty is exposed to them and whoever else is looking in my direction. Knowing that these men can see so much of me, is making me even hotter. I can't believe how turned-on I am! I never realized that acting like a slut would feel so sexy, so confident, so powerful. I am not sure anymore if the reason that I am sweating is nervousness or lust. Stealing a glance at my followers, I see that they are stopped, and if I wasn't so turned-on I would have to laugh. They are staring at me with their mouths wide open. I give them a quick smile and I continue walking knowing that they are watching my butt as I wiggle away.

I notice that they are getting closer and not trying to hide themselves anymore. I am almost to the food court and my appointment with my husband. I step onto the escalator with my little following right behind me, and I know that they can look right up my skirt. Knowing that they can probably see how wet my panties are makes me even hotter. I am tempted to really give them a show by putting my hand inside my panties and my finger inside my dripping slit, but I fight off that temptation. I am on the verge of an orgasm, and I feel my legs wobble as I reach the top of the escalator and step off.

Seeing my husband, he was at the table near the som tam which is my favourite food, he smiles at me and walks away as I start to walk toward him. I see an envelope on the table, and I take his place. I see my husbands writing and his instructions for me to go to the ladies room and open the envelope. I know that he is watching me, and I remember our deal: if I didn't follow his instructions, no matter how stupid, exactly as I was told, we would repeat the whole day next weekend. I hastily grab the envelope and just as I start to stand the three strangers walk by. One of them starts to say something to me, but I just ignore him as I make my way to the ladies room.

Sitting here in the empty lounge, I open the envelope, and I almost gasp as I comprehend the next part of my day. I am to remove my bra and my panties, put them in my purse, and continue to walk until I get to a bench in front of a lingerie store on the other side of the mall. I sit and decide that I am not going to do this. I'll walk out of this mall right now. Not only is the bet off but that my husband is really going to hear it from me about this!

Standing, instead of leaving, I find myself entering an empty stall. After closing the door, I quickly remove my blouse and my bra. While putting the blouse back on, I can't help but see how my large, dark nipples poke holes in this flimsy little silk blouse. As I remove my panties, I am surprised by how moist and warm they are.

I put everything inside my purse but I am so horny that I have to touch myself for just a second. I sit, pull up my skirt, close my eyes, and start to play with myself. Rubbing my clit feels so good! I imagine that I am doing this in front of a crowd, with everybody urging me on. I am surprised again by how quickly, how powerfully I am overcome by pure lust.

Oh my God, I didn't mean to actually go this far but here it comes... Ohhh My God! As I am overcome by my orgasm, I hear myself moan. I try to stay silent but I know that some sounds have escaped my lips.

Now that I have my composure back, I realize just how turned-on I am by showing off my body to total strangers. I straighten out my clothes and as I walk by the mirror, I can see exactly what I look like. As I walk, I can feel how my tits are bouncing around. I look at my skirt and see that the bottom is just below my butt. Just the slightest breeze will let everybody see how naked I am under this tiny skirt. Since nobody is in here, I bend over to see how much of me shows when I do it.

Oh, this skirt rides up so high, I better not if I don't want to get arrested for indecent exposure. As I pull down my skirt, I hear a sound from one of the other stalls. I glance around quickly and notice that one of the other stalls is occupied, with the door still open a crack. I can hear someone in there. It sounds like she is masturbating!

My curiosity gets the best of me, so I move closer and ask, "Are you okay?"

I hear her say yes but it comes out almost as a moan.

I fight off the urge to open the door, but my curiosity gets the best of me and I decide to wait and see this woman. I stall for time freshening up my makeup, and after a short while, she leaves the stall. I realize that she has been sweating, but has a look of total satisfaction on her face. I guess that she is about my age — late twenties/ early thirties — with long black hair similar to mine. I look her in the eye and she greets me with a playful smile as I notice her beautiful brown eyes.

She quickly explains to me that she has been following me, because...

I ask her to repeat the last part because I didn't quite hear it.

I can't believe it! She just told me that she was following me because she wants to make love to me. When I stopped to pick up my purse earlier, she decided that she had to have me, and has been following me ever since. Somehow I didn't notice her.

I don't know what to say. As I stand in front of her, open mouthed, she quickly explains to me that she is bisexual, and often comes to the mall to pick up bored housewives. When she walked into the ladies room after me, she heard me moaning and had to go and play herself, too, but when I was looking at myself in front of the mirror, that brought her over the edge.

Now this beautiful woman is trying to pick me up, and I have no idea how to react!

She explains that many women come to the mall looking for a lover, and she can tell when a women wants another woman without the woman even realizing it herself. She continues, saying that although I may not realize it, I would enjoy myself so much if I came with her.

I start to protest, but she quiets me with a too-passionate kiss that I can't help but return. She somehow can see the nervous and confused state that I am in. She reaches in her purse and pulls out a business card, writes on it, and tells me to call her soon. I watch her leave, then look down at the card and see her name and number.

I better get going. My husband is going to be waiting for me. Leaving the ladies room, I look around for my little group of followers, but they are nowhere to be seen. Suddenly I feel self-conscious and lost. I am in the middle of a huge mall, practically naked. As hot as I felt before, suddenly all of that sexual arousal that I had felt before is gone, replaced by embarrassment and humiliation. I better get going and get this over with before I get arrested for solicitation.

I am almost to my next rendezvous with my husband when I notice that I have regained my group of admirers. I'm feeling more confident and at ease as I find myself with somebody familiar, even if they are strangers. Feeling daring again, I stop at the fountain, open my purse for some change and throw a few baht into the fountain. I can't see them, but I can somehow feel their eyes run up and down my body, but I can sense somebody coming closer to me. A part of me wants to escape and get out of here, and I actually decide to continue on, but just as I turn around, I see one of the trio standing next to me. As I look over at him, he gives me a sexy little smile.

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fearfulkittenwrites · 3 years

Text

Baby, I’m jealous

Word Count: 1554

Notes: Hello, @pin-a-pin! I hope this fills your request for this years damijon gift exchange! I had fun writing this, and I hope you'll enjoy reading <3

Jon grinds his teeth. If they weren’t indestructible, they’d surely break due to the sheer strength of his jaw. He tries his best to stop it, because after all, if his teeth become crooked or grew out of place, there wouldn’t be braces in the world that would be able to set them straight, but he can’t help it. Something about that girl really gets to him. And the worst part was how Damian seems to defend her whenever she is brought up in conversation.

“I do not understand what is the issue with her, Jon.” Damian scoffs as they walk into class “She’s just another student. If you dislike her so much, just ignore her.” The boy places his backpack on the floor, taking his seat.

“I can’t.” Jon whines, sitting on Damian’s desk and ignoring the other’s scowl “She’s everywhere! Always doing something that gets on my nerves.” He glances back to the door, where she is talking and laughing with her friends “Look at her! Laughing like that, who does she think she is.” He mutters.

Damian looks at him as if he was an alien (which, granted, half of him was); partly disgusted, partly confused, completely weirded out by his friend's behaviour.

“You get along with everyone, Kent. Why can’t you get along with her?”

“B-Because...!” He moves his hands around, mouth open, trying to put the argument he definitely had into words “Look! She’s so... Ugh!” Damian rolls his eyes “Ugh. Whatever. You never get anything, anyways.” Jon slides out of his desk and makes his way to his place, a little upset with the previous exchange.

He sulks in his spot, watching as she takes her place next to Damian, all smiles and good mood. Jon rolls his eyes, angry. He was also all smiles and good mood, but the way she did it was insufferable and wrong. It annoys him.

The worst part is knowing that he hates her because she may someday have something he knows he can’t have; Damian’s heart. As class starts, he feels his gut sinking more and more, thinking of all the things she would get that he wouldn’t, of all the things he’d say to her and not him, all the soft touches and looks he’d give her instead of him.

He feels sick.

Of course Damian wouldn’t hate her. She’s pretty, polite and lovely. She talks to him and asks for pencils and he gives them with little hesitation. She’s obviously the one he wants. The one he’ll be calling ‘beloved’ with that posh and over-the-top accent of his. The one he’ll be coming home to after patrols. The one he’ll... Oh God. How could he face him now, after this realization had hit him so hard and suddenly? Jon lifts his hand.

“Yes, Jon?” The teacher asks.

“May I please go to the restroom, ma’am?” He asks. The teacher hesitates for a moment, but since it was Jon, ‘the good student’ Jon asking, she decides to let him go.

He rushes into one of the stalls, tears falling down his eyes as he locks himself in and cries into his hands.

Back in the classroom, Jon’s distress as he left didn’t go unnoticed. Damian ponders on what that could be, getting a little distracted from the lecture in front of him. He tries to piece together what made Superboy leave in such a hurry. Unless there was any kryptonite in the classroom he surely wasn’t physically sick, so his distress must have originated in an emotional issue.

Damian’s mind ran through the conversations they had today, starting from Jon complaining about his parents, to discreetly discussing their current mission, to Jon complementing his drawings, to him demanding that Jon properly cared for the tangled mane he called hair (it could be so beautiful if he just used a comb every now and then, so soft and fluffy), to... The girl he hates. Coincidentally, the same girl that sits next to him in class and looks at him with lovestruck eyes. And then something clicks inside of Damian, and he puts his hand up, no time to think of anything else, to worry about anything else.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Smith, I think I should check on my friend. He wasn’t feeling well this morning and might require some assistance.” Damian lies through his teeth with ease. He isn’t sure if this is a skill that would impress or disappoint his father.

“Okay Damian, go ahead.” She says.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Damian zooms out of the classroom, walking into the closest men’s restroom. It’s almost empty, only one of the stalls closed and locked. Little sniffles fill the bathroom. He clicks his tongue loudly.

“D-Damian?” Jon asks.

“You were wrong, Jon.” He says, walking towards the stall Jon was occupying.

“About what, Damian?” Jon sounds angry, which might have sounded intimidating in different circumstances, but right now he has a stuffy nose and it makes him sound so utterly adorable in Damian’s ears that the boy had to smile “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not really in the mood to take your teasings.”

“Open the door.”

There is a moment of silence, and Damian waits patiently for his reply. The door clicks open and Damian walks in.

“-tt-. Look at the mess you’ve made of yourself.” Damian starts, holding Jon’s chin and examining Jon’s tear stricken cheeks. He pulls out some toilet paper “And for what? Nothing.” He complains, wiping away the tears and rubbing the paper at Jon’s runny nose before tossing it in the trash bin.

“What? What are you talking about?” Jon asks, a little scared as he watches Damian pull one more piece of paper, patting away at his cheeks and eyes with surprisingly delicate hands. This was the most Damian had ever touched him ever since they met, if you don’t count the spars and fights. It was definitely the most gentle touch he had ever offered Jon.

“I do understand some things, sometimes.” Damian replies, still cleaning Jon’s face as best as he can “And I definitely understand you.”

“Damian, what are you-”

“Sh.” Damian shushes him “I’m not done. I can see why you don’t like her.” He smiles a little, not looking into Jon’s eyes “And... I’m glad you don’t like her. But you don’t have to hate her anymore.”

“What... What do you mean?”

“I thought I told you I wasn’t done.” Damian stops the movements on Jon’s face, and the other rolled his eyes. Damian resumes wiping the tears away from Jon’s face “You’re... I’m...” He takes a deep breath, getting the words in order before speaking up again “You’re Superboy. And I’m Robin.” He swipes Jon’s nose again, tossing away the paper and looking up at the other “But there is another Superboy. And there have been many Robins before me.”

“I don’t-”

“Shut it. I’m trying to make a point.” Jon keeps quiet and sustained eye contact, a little annoyed “So, if we’re not unique in that aspect, what sets us apart from our predecessors?” Jon opens his mouth “That was rhetorical, don’t answer.” Jon shuts his mouth “We have different fighting styles, and different weapons, and different lives. But at the end of the day, in my eyes, what truly makes us different from them is... Us.” Damian swallows, doing his best to keep his gaze fixated into the other’s sky blue eyes “Because... No matter how many Robins there may be... I’m the only Robin that’s yours.” Damian stops to take a deep breath, whispering the next words “And you’re the only Superboy that’s mine. So please, stop making such a mess out of your beautiful face over a girl that will never be able to meddle in what we have.”

Jon is stunned. How... where did this come from? Was all of the teasing, screaming, shouting, cursing, just a way to... flirt? For how long... how much time had he wasted?

“Damian, I...” His voice cracks “I don’t know what to say.”

“Am I wrong?” Damian lifted an eyebrow, in that confident, over analytical way he always did. Jon felt his heart skipping a beat.

“No.”

“Then don’t say anything.” Damian pulls the taller boy down by the collar of his shirt, kissing him. It doesn’t take long for Jon to realize what was happening and pull him closer by his waist, wanting this moment to last forever, needing to have Damian as close as possible before he woke up from what clearly was a dream. But then they pull away, and Damian doesn’t struggle away from his touch, doesn’t kick and scream at him, doesn’t disappear into a poof of black smoke.

Instead, Damian smiles and cups his cheek.

“I... God, this was...” Jon inhales sharply, unable to find words that could describe the way he felt.

“I know.” Damian answers simply, touching their foreheads together “I wished it didn’t happen in a bathroom, but I couldn’t risk it.” Jon chuckles at that.

“Did I do it right?” He asks softly, hands running up and down Damian’s sides.

“I think so.”

“Well, was it good?”

“Yes.”

“Can you elaborate?”

“It was... nice.”

“And?”

“Soft.”

“And?”

“Jon, for the love of God,” He grabs the taller boy’s cheeks “Just shut up and do it again.”

Hey! If you made it this far and you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging? It helps spread my fics and makes me super happy! Regardless, thank you for reading and happy holidays!

#damijon #damijon secret santa #Damian Wayne #Jon Kent #first kiss #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

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itsuki-minamy · 3 years

Text

“KEBAB SPECIAL TOTSUKA”

* Mini Episodes KFCN (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Totsuka Tatara started selling doner kebab at a street food stall, because his friend Murat Uchan from Turkey exacerbated his chronic back pain.

"Tatara-san. I'm sorry, but could you take over the shop for about two weeks?"

Before moving to Shizume, Uchan-san, who has been in Osaka for 10 years, consulted with Totsuka, and when he asked about it, he said "Yes, it's okay." and he took it easy. Totsuka immediately drove Uchan-san's mobile kitchen vehicle from the next day to open the shop.

From the preparation of the lamb for the kebabs to the operation, he does everything himself and makes a certain amount of operating profit, although he is not as good as Uchan-san. No matter how much experience he had working part-time, he helped Uchan-san's mobile shop several times in advance, but his culinary skills and managerial sense were far from amateurish.

However, after the first day, Totsuka Tatara's face (albeit smiling as usual) didn't look very happy. Thoughtfully he crossed his arms and devised some plans in his head.

And starting the next day he made some changes in the business style. Of course, with the permission of the Uchan-san.

First, he changed the taste of the kebab. Originally, Uchan-san, who has lived in Japan for a long time, added the Hatcho Miso to the hidden flavor and fixed it for the Japanese, but brought it back to a more ethnic and authentic flavor. There are many foreigners in Shizume and a wide variety of restaurants is thriving, so it was decided that it would be easier to accept.

In addition, the location of the business was moved from the front of the station to the plaza. He makes the most of personal connections, prepare nice chairs, tables and umbrellas, and create an environment where you can eat immediately after taking out. He also changes the paper to a more colorful, modern and more "shiny" one. As a result, the number of clients, mainly young women, increased significantly.

About two days before Uchan-san returned, Totsuka just couldn't go to the store and started hiring Yata as a temporary part-time job.

And his prosperity caught the attention of the lord of the square.

"It's annoying, you…"

At night, a burly man wearing an eye patch appeared in front of Totsuka and Yata, who were preparing to remove the shop, lifted his head neatly, and it was amazing.

"Ah? Who are you?"

Yata, who was not so scared, stood in front of the big man without making a difference in height and ignited the weapon.

"Is he a gangster on the floor? It was a shame if he could get it even for the shoba fee. I'm making a mistake."

"Yata. That person is different. That person is not a gangster."

Totsuka laughed and stepped between the two.

"He is the owner of the 'Man's Innocence'. You see, he is a ramen stand that he opened in front of the fountain."

In addition to the Totsuka kebabs, there are several street vendors operating in this square. Totsuka successfully obtained a business license from the square administration office, and politely greeted each shop, who are his sempais, on the first day. And now, while the owner of the "innocence of man" was standing in front of them...

"Oh, good luck at best."

He raised his voice saying that.

"Did we do something that bothers you?"

When Totsuka asked with a smile,

"No, not really."

The great man finally laughed.

"Suddenly you got sick, so I wonder if you'll be open elsewhere from tomorrow."

(Totsuka-san.)

Yata hid his voice from him and listened.

(This guy has been flirting with us because our kebabs have increased in sales.)

He knew Totsuka and so on.

"What if I say no?"

When Yata screamed and provoked,

"That's right. I don't care... I wonder if an unfortunate accident might happen to him."

The big man spread his hands playfully. He flicked his finger to the side and stuck out his tongue like a villain. Totsuka sighed a little.

"I understand your purpose. So why not do this? Tomorrow, we will compete with the sales of others. And if we lose, we will leave here. How about that?"

"Hmm... okay? Don't you know I've been the number one salesperson in the area for the past few years?"

"Oh. Instead, if we win, can you change the name of your stand, the 'Loser Dog Ramen'? The 'Man's Innocence' sign was always annoying."

Totsuka spat venom as he smiled. He seems mild-mannered, and he is one of Homura's executives, but in an emergency, he will cut off that image. Yata whistled. When the big man frowned...

"You will swallow your words!"

He left that place with abrupt steps. Totsuka and Yata looked at each other and laughed.

Originally, he only came to this plaza temporarily to facilitate Totsuka to do so, and a few days later, if he returned the traveling shop to Uchan-san, the place of business would simply return to the front of the station as before, so, to be honestly, he deliberately bothered to compete in sales, etc. It doesn't make much sense to do it. However, he was willing to accept such threatening words.

"Well, I want to pop a bubble."

That was the case with Totsuka. And Yata also strongly agreed.

The next day, the day of the decisive battle. The sky was clear. As it was a holiday, there were a lot of people. As a rule of the square, the business hours of the stalls are established from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. During that time, the game was how many sales could be increased.

A bowl of ramen costs 600 yen. The kebab costs 500 yen. There is not much difference in price, so simply the number sold will be the game.

The ramen preceded a bit in the morning, but the kebabs gradually started to come off around noon.

"It's amazing! Totsuka-san!"

Yata, who was rushing to cut the meat while he was sweating on his forehead, said that. After wrapping the kebab and handing it to the customer with a smile, Totsuka replied.

"Hey. I advertised a lot."

Totsuka knows everything about this city. How many people are there, in what time zone, and in what age group. Akagi and Bando, who are not at this location, were allowed to distribute promotional brochures at key points in Shizume.

He has also opened a SNS account on behalf of Uchan-san, who had been indifferent to such things for about a week. The announcement there was gradually beginning to take effect.

After fourteen, the victory of the kebab seemed certain...

"Well, isn't it strange?"

Yata asked a question. He was really interested in Totsuka. On the ramen side, the customer base had started to change.

"Man's Innocence" usually had five seats, but today, towards a special eight-seat chair and table around the booth, it was uncomfortable to see all of them, similar, it was occupied by men with a pleasant atmosphere.

They never get up from their seats after eating a bowl of ramen and continue to eat two or three bowls on the spot. Some people look at this and grin or strike a provocative pose.

Then, when he noticed Totsuka's eyes, the owner of "Man's Innocence" crossed his arms behind the counter and smiled a triumphant smile.

Totsuka coughed in a dazed and slightly amused tone.

"I see. Is it a strategy to fill all the seats with your relatives and just replace them no matter if they pretend to be?"

Yata shook his body in anger and clenched his fist.

"Damn."

"Totsuka-san, are you silent?"

Yata said that with the intention of "Let's go hit him." Totsuka scratched his head.

"Hmm. In the beginning, I didn't have any special arrangement to forbid that sort of thing."

To be honest, it is not a violation of the rules. Yata made a plaintive voice.

"Damn."

At that moment, the sight in Totsuka's eyes jumped and he smiled.

"Well, it seems we also have a god of salvation."

Yata also followed Totsuka's line of sight and raised his voice in joy.

"Kamamoto!"

It was Rikio Kamamoto who calmly appeared at the scene.

"What? I heard it from Shohei and the others. If you have a food store, give me a call."

"Eat all you want."

Totsuka immediately told Yata to start preparing more kebab.

In the end, "Man's Innocence" dug his grave by his own strategy. Few strong young men can continue to eat three or four cups of ramen, but Kamamoto is like a kebab. Like sushi and sandwiches, he tossed them into his mouth and ate one after another.

The owner of "Man's Innocence" finished with only an hour left until the closing of the store. When he walked to the front of Totsuka, he took off the headband that was wrapped around his head and took it, tilting his head as he held it in front of his body.

"Well, I give up. It may be unpleasant though, but can you forgive me for changing the signboard?"

Totsuka and Yata looked at each other and smiled.

"Now…"

"That I have to do?"

They were a bit mean and wanted to do it.

"Well, don't raise your head anymore. We won, but you don't have to change the signboard."

"Oh, yeah. At first, we weren't serious either. Oh! Were we the only ones who won?"

Suddenly, the two of them ran out and urged the owner of "Man's Innocence" to raise his head. The owner moistened his eyes.

"Oh, you are a good guy."

He was impressed. However, Totsuka and Yata knew it. Kamamoto, who enjoyed the kebab to the bottom of his heart, made his way towards "Man's Innocence" as he tossed his stomach to change his mood.

Eventually the game was abandoned and Totsuka successfully completed the period entrusted to him and returned the kebab stand to Uchan-san.

Both Totsuka and Yata made a lot of money, but it must have been Kamamoto, who was able to eat delicious food from the bottom of his heart, at the level of once a year or not, who was more satisfied than anyone else.

#k #k project #k fan clan #homura #yata misaki #totsuka tatara #k stories #k seven stories

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mlmdarkfiction · 4 years

Note

maybe this is too specific lol but could i have hc's for yandere yoosung & jumin being just a little too happy when their crush (who's a trans dude) asks them on tips for being more masculine or just for passing as a guy overall? like they're a little bit happy over the control that gives them & the opportunity to get closer to them? anyways hope you have a great day, love your blog

I JUST REALIZED THIS SAYS HCS AND I WROTE TWO WHOLE ASS FICS UHHH-

I hope this is okay...if you want headcanons let me know! I also didn’t make them very yandere aside from yoosung (but thats kinda canon) because my brain said full comfort. Apparently despite writing all the time I have NO reading comprehension. I cannot read.

Anyway! I really loved this request actually! and I might try my hand at writing one for all of the RFA and attatch it to this one in separate chapters. I may even attempt at writing a version with nonbinary specfic, and trans woman specfic reader if there’s interest because lets be real we need more trans reader content for EVERYONE

OBVIOUS CONTENT WARNING FOR DYSPHORIA MENTIONS Read on AO3:

Read Below:

Yoosung:

____: Hey Yoosung?

It’s only a text.

A simple text.

It’s not like you two haven’t texted privately without the gaze of the other RFA members, before.

But all those other instances...It was mostly him who initiated it.

You’re texting him!

You’re really texting him!

And he didn’t even text you first!

He couldn’t be more thrilled if he tried.

Unfortunately for his grades, Yoosung’s homework has been completely ignored, and in his rush to respond back he’s almost completely dropped his phone on his face.

Yoosung: YES Yoosung: Sorry! OMG I didn’t mean to use all caps!!!

He doesn’t have the excuse of caps lock, after all he’s using a phone, not a computer.

Thankfully for him, you find him and his eagerness cute.

It takes a while before he gets another text from you.

He spends the minutes waiting, and watching the three little bubbles on his phone that indicate you’re typing.

There’s no way for the blonde to know it yet, but it’s taking you so long to respond back because you’re

It wasn’t long into your time with the RFA that you told them you were trans. There was just something about the way they assumed you were a woman right away that had made you uncomfortable, so not only did you tell them you were a man, but you told them why exactly that had bothered you.

And to your surprise, everyone had taken it relatively well!

But it doesn’t mean you’re any less anxious. You doubt you’ll ever get over being anxious when it comes to these things.

Finally though you’re able to steel your resolve, and send the text.

____: Do you think there’s anything I could do to pass better?

It takes Yoosung an embarrassing time to realize what you mean. He’s still not the most informed about trans issues, despite trying to learn more so that he can (one day) be a better partner to you.

He wants to be someone you can rely on!

____: Passing.

More texts, because he took way too long to reply.

____: Or like…

____: I just want to look more masculine, you know? Like you

You think he looks masculine?

Yes!

Fuck yes!

But…

Here comes the problem.

Yoosung has never really thought about how he looks, not in the sense of masculinity.

In fact he only really thinks about how he looks when Zen or someone else brings it up.

He kind of just...wears the one hoodie, and aside from a couple of incidents when he was younger no one’s ever really mistaken him for a girl before.

So he just responds the best way he knows how, even if it’s kind of cheesy.

Yoosung: I don’t know how to help with that.

And...For good measure he sends his regular starry eyed emoji before continuing his text, unaware his pause caused you more anxiety.

Yoosung: You’re already more masculine than me!

It’s an honest answer.

If anyone else had said it you wouldn’t have believed them, you would have chalked it up to them just wanting to humor you, but coming from someone like Yoosung you were inclined to believe him.

Jumin:

You’re happy.

Happier now then you had been in a while.

Perhaps for the first time ever truly in your life.

It didn’t mean you still didn’t have troubles, or anxieties.

Like now.

Even as you’re holding onto Jumin’s arm you can’t help but feel a little...self conscious at his side.

It’s nothing he or his business partners have done, that’s just how it is sometimes, especially when dysphoria is involved.

There’s nothing to cause it.

Sometimes it’s just sudden.

Something about being in the room with a bunch of rich and powerful men, although as Jumin’s husband you too are technically a rich and powerful man, makes you feel bad about yourself.

You manage to find a moment in between the conversation to quietly interject,

“Excuse me, Gentlemen, I’m going to go to the restroom.”

There’s nothing off putting about the statement. The meeting had been going on for about an hour now, it was only natural someone at the meeting would need to excuse themselves.

No one thinks anything of it.

No one but Jumin.

And since you’re leaving you don’t notice you’re being watched. You don’t see the way Jumin’s dark eyes follow your form as you leave.

Having anxiety meant that running away to hide in bathrooms, or any other private space you could find, wasn’t exactly uncommon.

It’s nothing new.

You avoid the sight of the mirrors, your own reflection, like the plague as you make your way to a stall, quickly closing it and taking a deep breath.

A moment of peace, a moment to regain your thoughts. That’s all you needed.

Although you know it’s unlikely anyone in the meeting had bad thoughts about you, and even less likely they’d voice them around Jumin, it didn’t help the deep seeded paranoia. That somehow everyone knew you were trans, and that because of them knowing they viewed you as less than them.

And Jumin could only do so much to protect you. He hadn’t asked you to even come along on this trip, you’d been the one to offer, wanting to stop hiding in the shadows but…

People talk.

Tabloids talk.

The more you find yourself stuck alone in the stall trying to force yourself to calm down the more worked up you become.

When someone finally knocks on the stall you almost jump out of your skin entirely.

“Uh-” You clear your throat, and try to make your voice sound deeper in your anxiety. “Occupied?”

A familiar sigh sounds from behind the door, and instantly your shoulders droop with lessened anxiety.

“____?”

“...Yeah.”

As soon as you’ve opened the stall door you’re pulled tightly into a hug.

Jumin doesn’t necessarily understand exactly what you’re going through, you both know it. You’ve tried to explain dysphoria to him before, and although he understands the basics that’s all really...and to be fair it’s not as if a cis person ever could truly understand what gender dysphoria is like…

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do everything in his power to make you feel better.

And at least, no matter how you saw yourself, you knew Jumin saw you as his husband.

#mystic messenger x reader #mystic messenger imagines #Jumin Han X Reader #Yoosung Kim x Reader #Yoosung #Jumin #yoosung kim #Jumin Han #MM imagines #mm x reader #male reader insert #male reader #transman reader #trans reader #trans reader insert #trans x reader #male x reader #gay reader #gay x reader

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prairiesongserial · 3 years

Text

16.1

The lights on the burlesque stage went out just as Friday’s brassiere fell open - the timing of which she and Abernathy had been practicing for days. The crowd was so reactive that Friday felt the whistles and applause reverberating in the floorboards as she hustled off the stage. It was a louder reception than she was used to. She’d had fans at the Ace, but unlike the burlesque tent of the Madsen and Graves Circus, the Ace was just as much about drinking and catching up with friends over cards as it was about the girls.

Behind the curtain, in the tiny staging area, Beatrix was getting ready for her fan dance - she always did the finale, and it was always the same act. Friday had picked up the importance of crowd control since she first started hanging around the burlesque tent. With just cloth tent-flaps between yourself and a crowd that had been waiting a year for the circus to come through town, it was important they understood when the show was over.

A little girl popped through the curtain behind Friday while Friday was still trying to fix her brassiere back in place.

“Hey, baby,” Friday said, shooting her a smile. Jaelle, All-Fair’s kid, had been working the crowd. It was odd - usually Johannes did the burlesque tent himself, or at least got one of the men to do it. They blended in better. On the other hand, looking at the dozens of rings jammed on Jaelle’s fingers and the watches crawling up her arms, maybe the kid was the right choice.

“Hello, Miss Friday,” Jaelle said. She deposited her goods in the tin lock-box that Abernathy would come collect at the end of the night, turning the key with an air of great importance. “Can’t stay and chat - Johannes has me working every tent in the circus.” She heaved a sigh. “Bury me standing - I’ve been on my knees all my life.”

Friday had no idea what Jaelle was talking about, but the kid took off before she could ask. The circus would be winding down, now that the burlesque tent was putting on its last show. Friday threw slacks and a shirt on over her sequined underwear, still soaked in sweat from performing. She needed an ice cream cone before the stall packed up for the night.

When Friday left the tent, she was abruptly reminded that this was no ordinary show.

Her boots tread on grass, but there was no sky here. Despite the fact that it should have been past ten at night, dozens of lights high up on a domed ceiling gave the impression of daylight. Johannes’s amplified voice reached her from the main tent as he announced the last attraction. All at once, the lights on the ceiling shifted from yellow to orange to red, performing dusk in a matter of seconds. If not for that, the effect would have been eerily realistic.

Friday got a strawberry cone from Di and decided to wander over to the main tent. Might as well.

The last act in the main tent was fire-hooping, which was worth watching. The twin clowns had shed the baggy overalls from their tumbling routine and now wore form-fitting red and blue harlequin outfits as the flaming hula hoops arced through the air in perfect sync. Not only were the fire-hoopers impressive, but when the flames were extinguished at the end of the show, it made for a powerful symbol. Lights out, go home.

Friday felt the lightest touch against her back pocket. Most people would have written it off as the movement of displaced air as someone nearby walked past. Friday jerked her hand back and caught a slim wrist.

“Damn, I’ve been made,” Jaelle whispered.

“It’s just me,” Friday said, letting go. She beckoned Jaelle forward. “See that cluster of people three rows ahead of us, a little to the left? Heavy purses.”

Jaelle squinted in the direction Friday had indicated.

“Thanks, Miss Friday,” she said, then disappeared into the crowd again.

On stage, one of the clowns tossed her hoop up in the air, tumbled through the center of her twin’s hoop, and caught the one she’d thrown on the other side. The crowd clapped. That was the perfect moment to pick pockets. People’s hands were occupied, it was noisy, and the whole tent was filled with vibration, making little touches harder to notice. Friday felt the urge to check her own pockets again.

She did wonder at Johannes’s directive to go hard on pickpocketing this show. They were underground - had actually had to pay a toll to get into this giant bunker - and only after the steel door had been sealed behind the circus caravan had Friday learned that this was Washington, DC; home of Hemisphere Central. If Jaelle was caught picking the wrong pocket, that pocket had a pretty good chance of belonging to a powerful mobster. And the circus was trapped in here.

It was interesting how the Madsen and Graves circuit just happened to hit so many Hemisphere towns - from Everglades City to the accidental run in with the Good Guys - and now Central itself. No, interesting wasn’t the right word. At this point, it was almost boring, how obvious it was that Johannes was planning on handing her, Val, John, and Cody over to Hemisphere. Friday had finally tested her L-shaped pin against those used in the trailer hitches, and it was a perfect match. Johannes was trying to kill them, and Friday didn’t have a next move.

The fire-hooping ended with the lights shutting off just as the fires were extinguished. When they came back on, Johannes stood center stage to announce that the night of spectacle had come to a close. He’d changed backstage, and now wore a sequined suit - the left gold and the right black - and a cream cravat with a gold pin. Also cream colored was the porcelain mask that covered the top half of his face. Strange.

“Thank you all for coming to our show - that’s all the entertainment we have for you tonight. We hope you enjoyed the feats of athletics and wonder of the Madsen and Graves Circus.”

Friday spied Enis climbing down the ladder of the crow’s nest from which he controlled the lights. The crowd began to move toward the exit.

Friday wondered what Val thought about all this. She hadn’t tried to talk to him since he came back from Monocacy, but she’d pieced together from the gossip that Johannes had kissed him, it hadn’t been appreciated, and Val was pissed about it. Di, who was approaching sixty and had likely been with the circus since before Johannes was born, had called Johannes a dog and spat on the ground.

The crowd cleared the main tent surprisingly quickly - there were whispers of stopping at home to get changed. Interesting. Apparently the Madsen and Graves was the unwitting first half of a double feature.

As the last of the crowd left, circus members began to file into the main tent. Not unusual - after a show, there were sometimes special instructions for striking the sets. Friday saw Val hanging around the edges, and John and Cody front and center. She made her way over to Val.

“Catch my show?” she asked him.

Val looked at her, made an embarrassed face, then looked back to the stage.

“Would you rather I said yes?” he asked.

Friday smiled to herself, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

“A girl can dream,” she said, and winked at him. Val rolled his eyes. For a second, the summer had rolled back to the start, before John, Cody, and the fire. The reminder of how things used to be made Friday forget what she wanted to say next.

“Alright people, gather round,” Johannes called out, tipping the mask up to show his face. “You all know your strike teams, but there’s a little change. Enis and Abernathy are standing in for me and Ezra. We’re gonna shmooze at the gala and see if we can’t get us some extra gigs next year.”

Ezra had joined Johannes onstage by this point. He too was dressed up, wearing a bright navy suit and polished red leather shoes. He held a red mask in one hand.

Friday was surprised when Ezra projected his voice exactly as competently as his brother had.

“Once you’re done, feel free to go into town, buy things that aren’t good for you, and give Enis a hard time.”

The crowd of circus members laughed, and a few ribbed Enis.

“Alright, get outta here,” Johannes added.

Friday stole another glance at Val. His brow was furrowed, his eyes intense on the brothers as they descended the stage.

“Gala, huh,” Friday said. “Sounds like a high class affair.”

Val gave her the look that meant I know what you’re getting at.

“I’m just saying, beer and campfires are nice, but I’ve never been to a champagne-on-little-trays kinda party.”

Friday wanted to keep an eye on Johannes - to judge if this was going to be a planned handoff, or if he’d spend the gala advertising the bounties to interested parties. Either way, Friday needed as much advance warning as she could get. And if Val came to the gala with her, maybe he’d finally see Johannes for who he was.

“It’s a Hemisphere party,” Val said.

So don’t you think it’s interesting that Johannes is looking for work there? Friday thought. Come on, Val.

“No one’s gonna be looking for us there,” she said. “It’s a fancy ball. We’ll wear big sparkly dresses and masks and introduce ourselves as the stars of a not yet released Bellamy picture that no one’s even heard of yet. No further questions.”

“I’ll come, but I’m not doing that,” Val said. “Someone has to keep you out of trouble.”

“Me? Trouble? Never,” Friday said, a wide grin growing on her face. “Come on, let’s find costumes.”

epilogue 15 || 16.2

#story

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livayl · 4 years

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when allergies (sneak) attack

- Or how Azariah met Sofia - Summary: Azariah never had allergies before. Which is why she does not pay that much attention to the nagging itch and growing congestion she experiences after jogging outside. At least not until it keeps lingering and getting worse. Right next to that sweet baker´s food fair stall of all things. This time no spelled out sneezes. But they and all the urgently growing tickles and congestion are thoroughly described. ;) CW: I´ve mentioned mess/spray/wet sneezing and sniffling several times but it is not super descriptive. Also mention of food since it´s a food/bakers fair the two are at. Some cussing because Azariah tends to do that. Even inwardly. Fic starts under the cut

Azariahs gaze wandered over the aisles and the various goods stacked up not sky but at least top shelf high. All peeking through the various food stalls where one looked more promising than the next. She normally wasn´t one who´d dive into shopping trips and crowded places for fun. But there certainly were exceptions: Like pushing her way through overcrowded streets to be rewarded with the newest fine clothing at any kind of fancy men's tailor. And the extra sweet topping of politely voiced confusion some of these suffered from when they noticed that, yes indeed, she was the customer. And wanted to try on this, that, and oh! Please give me the black Tom Ford one with the grey silk tie, too. Thank you. Instead of just searching a practical gift for her not existing boyfriend, fiancé or husband. Not that she would say no to some new cuff buttons herself. One could never have enough of them: Silver, gold, black, with engravings, all those different shapes... Azariah wasn´t one for wearing jewelry but surely did not mind gently adorning a suit to make it rise to the occasion even more. The other one was visiting various kinds of foods markets and the attached shops. Or going all in with this big ass fair packed to the brims with various baked goods, the sweetest treats and mouthwatering, savory deliciousness. Plus the perfect ingredients to create all that herself once back at home. The air was filled with various kinds of alluring smells. One more tempting than the other but never mingling to a point of being uncomfortable. At least that´s how it should have been. Azariahs nose was way too congested to tell. That damned thing had been a mess ever since she´d left the house for a run this morning. It had worsened more and more until running properly had become an actual challenge. And even a steamy shower had not properly managed to clear her sinuses. Instead only provoked a fit of harsh, draining sneezes that had forced her to brace both hands against the wall. They had left her breathless and dizzy without a bit of satisfaction. Or soothed need. Instead only intensified the pressuring congestion that did not vanish with the help of nose blowing either. It was weird and infuriating. To a point were she was so hopelessly stuffed up that her lips had to stay softly parted to breathe.

The irritation wasn´t stopping at that though. There was that constant buzzing itch that teased and tickled insistently enough to make Azariahs eyes water. And oh my fucking god those itched, too. Sometimes that constant, unwanted stimulation would rise and prompt her sharp, lightly downturned nose to twitch in response. Then tuck on her lips. Contort them into a snarl before her mouth opened for a series of urgent, gasping hitches. She´d cuss under her shaking breath and turn aside from anyone around her. Arm raised up hastily enough to show the fluent movement of muscles under her midnight blue button down shirt. She´d hover above the crook for a bit. Face helplessly scrunched up, long nostrils flaring back even further. Body tensed and chest moving with fruitless, teasing build ups that would crest in a frustrating and embarrassedly voiced false start. Right followed by another inaudible curse as she´d dab at her eyes. Or wince at a few very congested sniffles that made her whole sinuses burn. All that only to be forced to give a repeat performance a few minutes later. So much for enjoying her rare free day by eating piles of tasty food. Or gathering some inspiration for new dessert creations. Her nose seemed to have other plans apparently. And those were distracting enough to demand Azariahs full attention. Begrudgingly but undeniably so.

She was just about to head towards a bathroom to, well, do something against that. Get some relief and pause from that nagging, vexing tickle with whatever solutions some privacy could offer. But it seemed like her nose had other plans with these intentions as well. The lingering irritation sparked to live with irresistible force and pushed her past the point of no return. Azariahs breath first caught in her chest as if surprised by the sudden ferocious urge that tickle had caused. Then her eyes fluttered and face contorted with a deep, gasping inhale that so clearly spoke of need it was audible. She shuddered forward, stumbled amidst two steps, and fiercely sneezed into the crook of her right arm. The sound was loud and made the throat scraping quality clearly audible even when forcefully muffled. It left her hazy and a palpable damp spot on her shirt. Which would have made her curse again if not for apparently needing to repeat that as well. Right away, it seemed. Azariahs eyes had barely opened again when they fluttered shut anew in a flurry of black lashes dappled in irritated tears. She shook her head. Desperately, as if too ward off what could not be contained anyways. Then hid her face behind the still raised arm again as the second sneeze hit. Full bodied, demanding and unable to be restrained in any kind of way. Still, it wasn´t enough to soothe the burning tickle, that itch so hard to satisfy. Just fuelled another one. Azariah subconsciously braced herself against a nearby stall, almost crumpled against it. Her left arm came up to aid the cover the other one seemed lacking. Right in time for a deep inhale that titled her head back. Exposed widely flaring nostrils just above her forearm. A gasp before another forceful sneeze was muffled against the soft fabric. It made Azariah wince with the sound that was sharp and throaty yet underlined with spraying wetness. She shuddered at the short-lived aches the sneeze had left in it´s wake. Among a shit load of loosened congestion she tried to sniff back with a miserably gurgling, crackling sound. At least that wrenching triple seemed to have taken the sting out of the irritation. For now. Azariah blinked a bit dazedly in search for anything that could stem the flood threatening to leak out. Her fiercely blushed nose was securely tucked into her sleeve. Scrunched up with wet sniffles that were desperate enough to raise her shoulders. She was so occupied with her fruitless hunt for anything to mop up the mess that a sudden, very close voice startled her. "Bless you. Do you need a tissue?" It asked and was soft spoken but not timid. Just very gentle. "Well, it´s not tissues but napkins... Lots of those at least." The woman added and there was a hint of friendly amusement underlining the words. Azariahs cheeks flushed in the same tone of her nose when she turned around to face the shop keeper. So that was the thing keeping her upright. The counter of a small shop that sold cookies. Lots of them. "Jeez. I´m very sorry. That probably wasn´t the best thing to do around here." Azariah said with an apologetic smile that was still hid by her sleeve yet honest enough to make her grey eyes crinkle around the corners. Her voice sounded about as rough as she felt right now. "I swear I´m not sick. It´s just all that...Whatever that is..." She used her free hand to gesture to her face and teary eyes before taking the napkins and turning around. How could whatever that fucking was still tickle after all that? Her nose felt ready to fall off. "Allergies?" The woman asked in that same mellow tone that seemed also a little sympathetic now. A melodious accent curled around the vowels. It was very nice to listen to. Azariah shook her head, back still facing the shopkeeper. She had never suffered from allergies before. Why should that start today out of all times? Azariah thought and started to blow her nose as unobtrusively as possible. It ended to be an excruciating long, messy affair that used up the pile of napkins she´d been given. Well, completely destroyed those. Great, very appealing. "Excuse me." Azariah mumbled. Then turned around again and dumped the crumpled mess into a nearby bin. Still her nose had decided to keep leaking which made her sniff thickly again. She scowled at herself. "... Aaand excuse me again. I should probably go off to be gross somewhere else." Azariah said with a sheepish laugh that was a little hoarse around the edges. Thus perfectly matching that scratchy feeling lingering in her throat. And irritating tingle that seemed to have settled in her nasal cavities for today. "Please take these with you then. And get well soon." The woman smiled. And damn, it was a gorgeous little gesture: Curving those plush lips upward. Then dimpling her softly shaped cheeks before sparking even more life into her big, brown eyes. Friendly, warm and crowned by long lashes. Colored in a tone of rich chocolate like the mass of long hair barely to be tamed by that thick braid. It looked so silky as it disappeared behind nicely rounded shoulders. Ah fuck, Azariah felt herself blush again. Even more so when she finally noticed the folded up napkins held out to her. Sure, just keep thinking about beautiful eyes and pretty smiles when your nose is dripping all over the place. That´s the way to go. "Yeah! Right. See you-huh no... I meant: Thank you!" Azariahs wince morphed into another sheepish, yet thankful smile. Then she turned on her heels to tactically retreat to the bathroom. Or well, maybe fleeing there. Just a little. She was sure to hear a friendly, good natured giggle trail after her. And somehow could not help but feel like she wanted to listen to it again. Even if it meant making a dorky mess out of herself.

Maybe Azariah could recover from that embarrassment and come back to buy some of those cookies. To make up for the life-long supply of napkins she had just used. Besides, they had looked very tasty after all. Who could say no to them. They were awesome. And as an apology in case her sudden fit had scared away some customers. That was just polite, right? She knew how to be polite after all. Mostly. Maybe, after she´d manage to get her nose back under control and herself presentable again. For the...Cookies...That had been very nice... Looked very nice. Huh. Azariah groaned at her reflection in the mirror that looked about as flustered as she felt.

#my fic #my OC #Azariah #Sofia

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notapaladin · 3 years

Text

life is a road and i wanna keep going

“I will write a fic for Acatl’s birthday!” i say, a month and change AFTER his...actual...birthday. (February 24th, mark y’all’s calendars for next year). I do not plan ahead. Anyway, have some fluff.

also on AO3

Acatl woke up cold, alone, and with a nagging feeling that he’d forgotten something. The first two were normal—it was the tail end of the dry season, after all—but the third wasn’t. His memory was usually a reliable thing.

The conch shells were still blaring outside, heralding the dawn. He made his devotions to the gods, hoping the pain would jar loose whatever it was. There were no festivals he needed to prepare for, it wasn’t market day or any of his siblings’ birthdays, and his temple had been refreshingly free of any suspicious deaths for a while, so what…?

Nothing sprung to mind. Pinching his ears to stop the flow of blood, he went to wash his face and hands. There was a thin skin of ice on the surface of the basin, and he broke it with a muttered curse. As he bent his head, a lock of loose hair fell into his eyes.

There was a sliver of white in it. No. I have to have seen wrong.

He hadn’t.

He scrubbed at his skin quickly and rifled through his hair until he’d separated the offending strand—no, two strands. Two. He would have bet a fistful of cacao beans that neither had been there yesterday. He heaved a disgusted sigh and yanked his hair back, tying it tightly out of his face and his sight. But not being able to see it didn’t mean he could forget it was there. I’m getting old. The thought was disquieting. He was barely into his thirties, for the Duality’s sake, and surely it was too soon for him to become decrepit.

When he rose to his feet, his knees complained. Apparently it wasn’t. Wonderful, he thought sourly. Just wonderful.

But then he stepped out into his courtyard and found it occupied, and despite himself his gray mood started to lift. Teomitl sat under the tree, looking fresh-faced and lovely as the dawn, and when his gaze lighted on Acatl he beamed. “Good morning.”

He frowned back at him. Yes, of course he was happy to see him, but there really wasn’t a reason he could think of for the man to be here. It was far too early for his usual lunchtime intrusion—which, admittedly, had become less of an intrusion and more of a pleasant routine reminder that he was indeed supposed to eat something, even if Teomitl did keep scowling when he told him that. There had been no recent damage to the boundaries, and if anything had happened to Mihmatini he knew very well that Teomitl wouldn’t be smiling about it. Maybe he just wants to see you, whispered a voice in his mind. He ignored it, as well as the resulting butterflies in his stomach.

“...Teomitl, what are you doing here?”

Teomitl all but bounced to his feet. That smile was downright infectious, and he had to look away before it caught him too. Then Teomitl spoke, and all chances of that were over. “I wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday.”

“A what.” Acatl blinked at him, hearing the words but not understanding them. Wait. Wait. Yesterday was Five Grass, which means today is...oh, gods. He’s right. At midnight, he’d became another year older. And it had slipped his mind entirely. I am getting old.

“...Did you…” Teomitl stared back incredulously. “You forgot your own birthday?”

He dropped his gaze to the ground, feeling his heart thump hard against his ribs. “It’s not important.” It was never important. He was a priest, sworn to give his life to the gods; ever since the day he’d announced his vocation, even his own family hadn’t done more than mildly remark upon it. It would have bothered him more if there hadn’t been so many other, worse reminders of their disapproval.

“Of course it is.” Teomitl drew himself up to his full height, eyes narrowed in a way that dared Acatl to say otherwise

He didn’t. His heart was hammering too fiercely. He cares. And yes, he’d known that—it was hard not to, with all the little reminders that Teomitl had no intention of leaving his life unless Acatl threw him bodily out of it—but it felt more real, now. The hope that he’d ruthlessly beaten back was cautiously trying to raise its head again. “I…”

Teomitl smiled, faint and victorious; clearly, he’d realized there would be no arguing on this point. “You’ve survived another year of everything Tizoc’s reign has thrown at us. That’s deserving of celebration.”

“...That explains it,” he muttered. Even without any major catastrophes, the constant awareness of paper-thin boundaries and a singularly unworthy Emperor were enough to turn any man’s hair white.

“Hm?”

He felt his face heat. “Nothing.”

And now Teomitl was scowling lightly at him. “Acatl.”

He’d promised himself that he would never lie to him, even over something as embarrassing as his own vanity—and it was vanity, which seemed even more ridiculous now with the pulse point of Teomitl’s presence beating under his ribs. “...I thought I was too young for gray hair. I was mistaken.”

Teomitl shook his head dismissively and stepped closer. Acatl suddenly noticed that his courtyard was much smaller than he’d thought it was; from this distance, he could pick out the myriad shades in Teomitl’s dark eyes. He hastily averted his gaze, but not before catching the edge of Teomitl’s frown as the man informed him, “You’re only thirty-two. That’s not old.”

“Older than you,” he pointed out with what was perhaps a bit of a justified huff in his voice. There were times it didn’t bother him. There were even times he forgot entirely; Teomitl swam in the political currents of the palace like an ahuitzotl, and it always made him question which of them was the younger. But a man was entitled to feel his age when his hair started showing it, Duality curse him.

“...I don’t mind. Gray hair makes you look distinguished.” Teomitl shrugged with feigned carelessness, a faint tinge of color in his cheeks. Before Acatl could ask what on earth he meant by that, he continued, “Anyway. I, uh. I thought maybe...I could buy you something to eat? If you’re not busy. Today should be the day that Cozcatl’s running her mother’s tamale stall, and I know you love her cooking.”

Cozcatl made tamales that could wake the dead. She did things with chilies that would have made the head imperial chef weep for joy. They weren’t expensive or extravagant, nothing that would make it onto the palace banquet tables, but if Acatl hadn’t been a priest, he thought sometimes that he might have married her for her food alone.

He found himself smiling. “...Thank you.”

The temple could manage without him for a single morning. It was his birthday, after all.

- -

The Sacred Precinct was busy as it always was, but the city beyond it was even more so. Neither he nor Teomitl had dressed formally—though Teomitl’s crimson cloak and the gold in his ears marked him as a man of imperial blood, drawing more admiring eyes than just Acatl’s—so the jostling crowd meant they had to stick close together. Even though it warmed him from the inside out each time their arms brushed, he didn’t mind.

He should have minded. He was being selfish, wanting what he couldn’t have; his face burned all over again when fingers brushed his arm and he thought fleetingly of catching them in his own. Teomitl was a dozen years younger than him, soon to be Revered Speaker, and married to his sister. It wasn’t so very long ago that he’d been Acatl’s student. That had mattered once.

Teomitl cast him a sideways, smiling glance. “I know you don’t want a celebration, but I should probably warn you that Neutemoc is going to invite you to dinner.”

Neutemoc’s favorite way of celebrating birthdays when they’d been children had been to heave him into the nearest canal and run away laughing before he could wrestle him in too. He closed his eyes briefly. “Ah.”

“I thought you probably wouldn’t like it. I wanted to treat you to something from the palace kitchens instead.”

He shook his head, redirecting the little bubble of joy from the idea of Teomitl thinking so much about him to something more appropriate. “No, that’s fine. It will be good to see the children again.”

“Mm-hmm.” Teomitl’s smile turned fond and wistful, as it always did when they lit on the topic of Acatl’s nieces and nephews; though the age gap between him and his brothers meant he’d been an uncle himself practically since birth, evidently it was a different matter entirely when it involved the family he’d married into. The first time Mazatl had called him Uncle Teomitl unprompted, he’d beamed so happily that Acatl had fallen in love all over again. “I can’t believe how tall Necalli’s getting! Soon he’ll be looking me in the eye. Time’s flown.”

Strands of silver in his hair. Teomitl smiling on the temple steps, meeting him as one man to another. The tidal shift when he’d looked at him—gods, he couldn’t even remember what the occasion had been, some meal where Teomitl had been wiping crumbs off his hands and chuckling at Acatl’s first truly honest description of what he thought about Quenami—and instead of garden-variety fondness he’d thought oh and Duality preserve me, I love you.

“It has.” Things changed, and sometimes it was for the better.

The sun was warm, but not as warm as the look in Teomitl’s eyes.

He had to turn his face away again; the crowd around them and the noise of a living city in his ears wouldn’t let him forget they were in public, and he focused on that and not the occasional slide of their cloaks against each other’s limbs. Gradually he became aware that they weren’t alone—that as they made their way through the markets to Cozcatl’s stall, a group of men with the bearing and battle scars of Jaguar Knights were attempting to follow them unobtrusively and not doing a very good job of it.

He cast a glance in Teomitl’s direction and saw him unbothered. It didn’t help. “Are the guards really necessary?”

“For you? Yes.” Teomitl’s quick smile was far too innocent. “You can’t deny you tend to attract danger.”

“Hmph,” he muttered, and forcibly bit back the part of him that wanted to ask is that why you’re still around, then? It felt too close to flirtation for him to risk. Remember Mihmatini, he thought—but remembering Mihmatini didn’t help, because then his memory was happy to dredge up the conversation with her where she’d maintained unwavering eye contact as she’d told him that she and Teomitl had come to an agreement and she didn’t care if her husband had feelings for anyone else, and her gaze had been far too searching for comfort.

Before Teomitl could say anything else that could make his heart feel dangerously soft and open, he spied a familiar striped awning set over a broad window and made a beeline towards it. He could have found Cozcatl’s stall if he were blind and operating on smell alone, but the awning did help.

The woman herself was indeed setting out the morning’s selection of flatbreads and tamales, and beamed at them as they approached. Cozcatl was a little older than he was, a widow with three young children and a wide streak of gray in her hair, but her crooked-toothed smile made her beautiful. “Good morning, my lords! Will you be having your usual?”

He took a moment to look over the steaming pots and their maize-wrapped offerings. “If you have it, yes.”

She looked very much as though the idea of her not having their usual orders—fish with chili for Acatl and cactus fruit with honey for Teomitl—was laughable, but only smiled as she handed them over and Teomitl, as was his custom, paid her far too much for them.

Acatl blinked at the two tamales in his hands; he’d accepted them without thinking, but he was sure he’d only ordered one. “Ah, you gave me an extra.”

She waved him off. “It’s a gift.”

As they walked away, Teomitl grinned at him. “I think she likes you.”

He unwrapped one tamale and took a bite, closing his eyes in bliss. Ah, there was the flaky fish, the shreds of bitter greens, the sharp heat of the chilies. Delicious. Then Teomitl’s words registered, and he glared at him as he swallowed. “She does not. She was just being polite.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Teomitl huffed. “You’re a likable man, Acatl.”

“I…” It was rank flattery, just on the verge of being an outright lie—even if Teomitl seemed to be fond enough of him, it was hardly as though anyone else was lining up to agree—but it wasn’t anger that made him flush and fall silent. Teomitl’s tone hadn’t been teasing or mocking in the least; he’d said it as simply as he might have remarked on the weather, and it struck him to the core. I am short-tempered and petty and pessimistic, and he looks past all that and calls me likable. He could have melted on the spot.

Of course, then Teomitl commented, “I wonder what she would have done if I’d told her it was your birthday?” and that effectively slaughtered the moment in cold blood.

“Gods, please don’t.” Even the idea made an embarrassed flush crawl across the back of his neck.

“I won’t!” And Teomitl smiled, all sunshine. “What do you want to do now that we’ve gotten something to eat?”

He took another bite of his tamale, humming in pleasure at the bright burst of chili across his tongue. “I should check on my temple.”

“Alright, then we’ll go back there and—” Teomitl cut himself off as they turned a corner, the indistinct shouting they’d been hearing suddenly much louder and immediate. It seemed that a pen full of turkeys had gotten loose; since they were disinclined to remain caged, half the market was now engaged in either trying to catch them or figuring out who to blame for it. “...It’s a nice day. Let’s take the long way around.”

“...Good idea.”

The alternate route past the markets took them along a narrow canal that would fit perhaps two boats abreast. The streets were narrow here too, which meant that though there was no one around he still had an excuse for walking closer to Teomitl’s side than propriety dictated. He was happily listening to a tale of how hunters in Maya lands had brought a black jaguar and a white crocodile all the way to the House of Animals and agreeing that yes, he would like to see them when something in the water caught his eye.

“Is that—” he began.

And then the tlilcoatl latched its jaws around his ankle and pulled him into the canal.

“Acatl!”

Teomitl’s scream followed him, but he was in no shape to respond. Tlilcoatls were massive black serpents, a full armspan around with venomous fangs and jaws that could swallow a person whole, but the real danger was in their coils. If it pinned his arms, it would crush him to death. Frantically he tried to reach his knives, but the serpent had dragged him under before he could even take a breath, and his lungs were already burning.

And then it looped a coil around his chest, and he knew he was doomed. He still struggled, but it was the uncoordinated flailing of a desperate, dying man.

Pain.

Black spots in front of his vision.

The sudden bright bloom of ichorous blood in the water, and the coils around him jerking as something struck them. Teomitl…?

He renewed his efforts, but the snake weighed more than he did and its throes of pain were churning the mud at the bottom of the canal, making it impossible for him to tell which way was up. But there was Teomitl’s hand holding a knife and glimmering with Huitzilopochtli’s power, and there was another crimson bloom in the water, and suddenly the serpent’s coils went slack and his limbs were free.

Strong hands grabbed him under his arms and hauled him towards sunlight, and he broke the water with a gasp. Nothing felt broken, but everything hurt. His leg was a snarl of pain, and if Teomitl hadn’t been supporting him he never would have made it to dry land. Even when he did, it was some time before he could finish coughing up water and get back on his feet. It was early in the season for tlilcoatls; they usually came with the rains, and ones this size were thankfully rare.

He looked down at his ankle. Painful and bloody, but it bore his weight and wasn’t turning black, and he could still think clearly enough. A dry bite, then. The snake’s forked tail had caught Teomitl across the ribs, leaving two nasty-looking slashes he was currently prodding clinically at; it made Acatl bite his lip in agitation, but since he wasn’t wheezing or clenching his teeth in pain he probably hadn’t broken a rib. Probably. Gods, let him not be too badly hurt. I couldn’t bear it if he was.

Teomitl clearly had other concerns. He pressed his cloak to the wounds and huffed, “Well, that wasn’t the birthday present I’d had planned for you. Are you alright?” and all Acatl could do was stare.

The words flowed like tar through his mind. A birthday present. That’s right. I’m thirty-two today. I found gray hair this morning. Today’s my birthday, and Teomitl...Teomitl wanted to celebrate...

And then he burst out laughing. He was aware it was vaguely hysterical, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “A birthday present—” His laughter was a wheezing, near-silent thing that turned his face red and had been known to startle small children, and he literally couldn’t remember the last time it had been startled out of him. He might have snapped or screamed or stormed off, but Teomitl’s words had jarred him into hilarity instead. It was just too much, the last straw for his mind. Oh, my sweet man. My beloved.

His legs folded under him, and he crumpled slowly to the ground—now Teomitl was looking concerned, but he could no more have stopped laughing than he could have flown. It felt like an eternity before he could wheeze anything reassuring through an aching stomach and too-tense ribs. There were tears in his eyes. “Ah...hah, forgive me...it was just...the snake on top of everything else, and the way you said it—”

Teomitl smiled at him, warm and...gods, he could almost call that look tender, and it made his heart flutter. “It’s more than alright. Come on, let’s—”

“My lord!”

Ah. There were the Jaguar Knights, far too late to be of any help. They took in their charges’ soaking wet and bloodstained appearances with shock that only lasted a moment before they registered that Teomitl was deeply unhappy with them, and then it was replaced by very sensible and appropriate terror. After angrily commandeering their cloaks, he ordered them into the canal to drag out the tlilcoatl’s corpse before it could pollute the waters and then dropped to his knees by Acatl’s side, slicing the thick cotton for bandages and muttering viciously under his breath. There was some truly impressive profanity involved. As Acatl let himself be bandaged, he found himself smiling despite the pain. Some things didn’t change.

“There. How do you feel?”

Teomitl didn’t quite look at him. Acatl hoped he wasn’t blaming himself. But he flexed his foot and it didn’t hurt any more than it had already, so he couldn’t see why. They were both reasonably unhurt; Teomitl’s side had already stopped bleeding. There was nothing the man should have been castigating himself for, not after saving his life.

“I’m fine,” he said, and meant it.

- -

Teomitl didn’t speak again until they made it back to his house, though Acatl could feel simmering frustration pouring off him in waves. It felt a little like walking next to an unleashed jaguar, though the growling was replaced by stony silence and a steady flexing of his hands as though he’d like to wrap them around someone’s throat. Acatl wasn’t sure whether to comfort him or keep his distance.

Then they limped into his courtyard and Teomitl stopped, turning to meet his eyes directly. “...Acatl, I’m sorry.”

He blinked, trying to remember if they’d had a disagreement recently. He’d said he was fine. “For what?”

“Well, my guards are incompetent, for one thing. And…” Teomitl dropped his gaze. As Acatl watched, he started to blush. Gods, it was so much more appealing than it should have been. “I wanted…” He gestured helplessly, nothing at all like his usual stabbing motions, and visibly groped for his next words. “I wanted the day to be good for you.”

Oh, he thought. He felt like he was melting all over again, and for a moment he wavered on his feet with the sheer force of the love that pulsed through him. “It was.” He was bloodstained, sore, and still hungry, but he remembered the sweet pain of that laughter and all the myriad ways Teomitl had shown he cared for him.

“But—” Teomitl bit his lip and fell silent, looking so disappointed that it yanked on all of Acatl’s heartstrings.

He couldn’t blame what he did next on pity. Love and desire, yes, but not pity. His mind simply went from I want to make him smile again to the lightning-flash realization of I can do that in an instant, and without a second thought, he reached over and took Teomitl’s hand in both of his.

He felt his heart skip a beat as the man met his eyes and slowly—so slowly—started to smile. He’d been right. Words spilled out of his mouth, raw with the truth. “You were there by my side. So far, I’ve had a wonderful day.”

The very edge of that slow smile turned teasing. “...Only so far?”

He huffed, feeling impossibly fond even as a spike of honesty prompted him to murmur, “Well, it could always get worse.”

Teomitl took a step forward, well into his personal space, and lowered his voice. “It could get better, too.”

He still hadn’t let go of Teomitl’s hand. It could get better was a meaningless platitude, the sort of thing that was easy to dismiss—but not when Teomitl was looking at him like that, with so much warmth in his gaze that even the thought of it heated his blood in return. He would have dismissed flirtation; he wasn’t someone to be played with and set aside. But Teomitl’s gaze was as steady and direct as it ever was, and it made him swallow hard. “...How so?”

“Well, I was going to take you on a tour of the palace gardens, but now...I’m not sure.” Teomitl shrugged almost carelessly, but the spark in his eyes was anything but. “Maybe we could find out. Together.”

The coward’s way would be to drop Teomitl’s hand and this line of conversation, to go inside and lay down before he fell over. He was done with being a coward. Amazed at his own daring, his heart hammering against his ribs, he whispered, “Maybe we could. I’m sure you have a few ideas.”

“Mmm. I do. Do you want to hear them?” They were very close now, and Teomitl leaned in closer. Warm breath puffed gently across his face.

He wasn’t sure he was breathing himself. He had to lick his lips several times before they were moist enough for him to speak. “Yes.”

The brush of lips against his own felt like a hummingbird’s wings—that soft, and that fast. By the time Acatl blinked, Teomitl had already pulled away. His voice was barely audible as he breathed, “Well?”

So this was what it felt like to live in a world where Teomitl had kissed him. The breeze was cold, but the sun was warm on his back and the hand in his was warmer yet. His ankle still throbbed, but the pain was bearable. A loose lock of hair in front of his face showed him yet another gray strand. His breath came slow and measured, his heart thumping like a great drum in his chest.

“I think,” he murmured, “that we should continue this inside.”

They did.

All in all, it was an excellent birthday.

#obsidian and blood #acatl #teomitl #teocatl #paladin writes stuff

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talesofealdancynedom · 3 years

Photo

Feon Seabryd in fairy robes, with storm staph.

Tale 19: Meriam Craweleoth: Mage Queen of The Grand West (chapter 4.1 - Time Stands Still: Feon 4/10) part 4. Stories of Old

Maps

none

In spring, Meriam received a letter from the Northlands. The lord of Isfisceard, caught word of Meriam and her men wandering in and out of Celticia, to speak with Helrem in Algonquia. With Francia being hostile towards all three lands, Meriam had trespassed into Celticia to avoid death. However, The Northlands of Celticia had tightened its boarders, and was sending rangers and setting up outposts; The land was strained from battles from both Algonquia and Francia. The lord requested Meriam’s presence, to deal with a specific matter, in exchange for alliance with Anglia. Meriam was eager to accept, and make another ally at Francia’s boarders; and not get punished for trespassing. The courts would not let her leave however. They had a matter of special importance for her as well. Meriam was carrying their only heir to the throne, after Eatheltwein, making her even more valuable. They had forgotten Meriam didn’t take kindly to being treated like a fragile tool. She was being a royal brood mare for them against her wishes, and they still weren’t satisfied. Meriam left with her five loyal men, a doctor, and the Celtician lord’s letter on her pillow for the king to find.

Celticia was temperate and wet. It smelled of rain, and upon its odd rock formation and cliffs, was the hum of the soothing low pressure. The scent of the sea embraced them, as Meriam and her party approached the docks. Crossing up the north isles was the last leg of the journey. Meriam was pampered by everyone; to her appreciation and disgust. It almost tarnished the wondrous experience of the Northland kingdom. The island of Isfisceard, was radiant. It was strewn with storm wildings, rain nymphs, ridge back drakes, hydra, and more. The most intriguing and enchanting things, aside from the beaches, sea walls, ferns and sequoia, was the voices that welled up from the depths; Fish children. There are no mermaids, sirens or selkies in Anglia, but there are many in Celticia. For there are many mariners and fishers, of whom a sixth would gladly wed a questionable, thirsty, hungry, and irresistible, maidens of the sea. While Meriam’s men were bewitched by lust, Meriam was overcome with awe and wonder. As a seer, her heart was a flutter with all fey before her. Meriam, as a mage, was drawn to magic. Thus, it was more fascination than lust, that seduced her to get a closer look. Not that the Fish King’s children weren’t to Meriam’s liking as well. As they docked at their destination village, the captain said they were lucky Anglian folk don’t sing. Cheerful tunes tend to attract less lovely daughters from the deep.

Eager for a proper sleep, Meriam went directly to the lord’s house. But he would not let her rest; he held both her hands and bowed.

“Greeting Mage Queen Meriam. I am honoured you have accepted my invitation. I can tell you are weary, but a lady as precious and fine as you, needs to be kept safe; your men will remain with me, while you retire with Lady Feon Seabryd.” The lord smiled. His accent was both chipper and confusing. Like a thick Irish dialect. Meriam stepped back; what threat would be anticipated that would require her to sleep in a lighthouse, while her trusted knights became drunk lustful decoys.

“I am here to settle my debt, and forge alliances. Tell me your bargain; I am most short these days.” Meriam snapped. Then the lord, still bowing, noticed she was with child, and looked up at her grimace. The lord shivered in fear. Her khol, drawn like a hawk’s face, emphasizing her yellow eyes.

“My apologies your majesty. Let us make haste in signing the papers. You and your men must hear why I am so desperate to protect you, and improve our lands relations.” He said, leading them into a circular hall decorated in tapestries of fish fey and knots. The greens, teal, blues and bronzes complimenting the elaborately carved wooden stools and table.

“Sit, sit.” The lord prompted. Meriam’s men looked calmer then usual; they could handle a court room, after riding dragons. Magic, and their queen’s missions to make peace, was no longer confusing or dramatic.

“Alright, were all settled down now. So, what I need from this alliance, is an army to help this town. A messenger came from the east with a warning: In one season’s time, we will have the army of the Far North at our wall. Meanwhile, Francia is stalled by our land’s rangers and fey. Algonquia is slowly advancing, and occupying Celticia; We are weak. They come to finish their take over, by coming to Isfisceard for our lands only mage; the aforementioned Lady Feon. She sing’s storms and spells, and keeps balance between us and the magic of the sea. Each kingdom has a mage these days, and killing each other’s mages seems to be a common political strategy.” The lord explained.

“You want an army to protect your nations mage?” a knight asked.

“Aye. She is a kind charmer, with four beautiful children. Isfisceard would not be the same without her. But more then her death, I fear the mages of Algonquia. For the reason they are immune to our soldiers and fey, is because their prince and princess, the nephew and niece of the king, are both mages. Edmond Monabellen: The Wolf Prince of The North. He has walked through arrows, and cut cities in half. Him and his siter can control fey in battle, and their men and women are fearless in war. He is a paladin clad in violet and gold, with the eyes of a wolf, and riding his bear familiar. His sister, Luthid Geagwulf, is a witch that works from the camps, to manipulate the battle field. Their army has yet to lose a warrior. If they come for Feon, they will kill all of Celticia’s remaining armies, and take us before Francia does.” The Lord rambled. “I hear your power over time is great Meriam Craweleoth; between you and your kingdoms cavalry, I believe prince Edmond can be stopped. The Northland’s may be in your favour against Francia, if their wolf prince is defeated.” He concluded.

Meriam absorbed the information. Helrem had said nothing about the paladin prince in the Algonquian courts. Wolf kingdom mages, who could be advocating for magic, were being used like pawns in war. This is not how magic is supposed to be used. Their king is a coward for sending his only heir into battle, and a disappointment for abusing magic. Or worse, Edmond and Luthid were skirting their natures out of familial or patriotic obligation, and were in so deep, they can not escape war, despite their better judgment. If Meriam could resolve this, everyone would win.

“I agree to your terms. We will see who is willing to come to your aid by mid harvest. Hopefully my magic will prevent us from being tardy. May I rest now? Lord of Isfisceard?” Meriam said, signing the papers.

“Yes, you may; Feon will be waiting by the beach. There is a white stone of quartz she likes to sing from. Can’t miss it.”

Merriam approached the fogged bay, that echoed of song, along with a closer voice. Upon a random tall stone of white quarts, was a freckled woman in teal fish kingdom fairy robes, holding a wooden staff set with a large emerald. Her long hair was red as blood, and her eyes like blue pine. She sang sweetly into the water, and its flat surface sang back. Her colours were unnatural; as if changed by magic from her going dark from tragedy. She looked like she was having so much fun, that she didn’t notice Merriam watching.

“Are you Feon Seabryd? I am Queen Meriam of Anglia; your lord said I was to stay with you and your family for safety.” Meriam said.

“Aye. Wait till you meet my family-” Feon said, gazing at Meriam. She looked like a ghost dressed in her black feather and crushed velvet fairy robes. “You’re going to have a baby! That’s so exciting! I know just the way to treat you; as a mother myself!” Feon chimed. She took Meriam’s hand and gently led her to a house at the bottom of a light tower, that was carved into the sea wall of the bay.

“I hate children. I don’t want to have a baby; that could kill a woman.”

“I love my children! All four of them! They were a pain, but they are like precious jewels. I smile everyday when I see them. Speaking of children, I have a son who is also a mage, though he don’t know it yet. Lyra is his name; a charmer just like me. Possibly even a storm breaker like me too! I have many notes about mages, and magic workings. You are a seer, right? Maybe reading or copying them would be restful for you?” Feon suggested. With magic on the table, Merriam was warming up to the idea of being in a peasant’s bungalow, surrounded by wild children. The only child she ever liked was Eatheltwein; and she was not responsible for his care.

In the cabin, Feon had her children bring her and Meriam food to study. Feon was excited to pick the brain of a seer, and Meriam was happy to finally be sitting. Feon had many books and journals in her room; it was crowded in a hurricane of organized chaos, around the two beds she shared with her husband and children. Meriam was brought back to her childhood in Francia, sharing a bed with her friend Felin.

“What type of mage are you?” Feon asked, placing a teal leather journal on the table. “For example, I am a Storm breaker; we summon and control weather when magic moves through us, from being really happy. But if we don’t have a storm staph, we will lose control and go gray dark; causing natural disasters. I got my storm staph sent to me from a warlock in Sinonia, of the Grand East, who is also a storm breaker. In fact, the lad sent me many, requesting I place them in the Fish Kingdom in the shadow veil, because The Fish Gate is down the cliff of the lighthouse…” Feon said, handing the journal to Meriam and showing off her wood and emerald staph. Meriam examined it carefully, it was wonderfully crafted. She wondered how the parcel arrived through Francia, and then recalled that they took postage seriously there; you could mail one hundred mice to a foreign land and no one would stop you. A good package, is a delivered package. Feon knocked on the table Infront of Meriam to get her attention.

“Oh sorry, you reminded me of something… I guess I’m a Memoirium de Morte; a mage who can manipulate time. I didn’t realize we had types.” Meriam laughed, melting into the reclined chair covered in plaids.

“Do share! I want to complete that teal compodium, with details about all the mages for our ancestors!”

“Why do you write texts instead of poetry? I thought you were a charmer?”

“I am. But I am also a mother and avid hobbyist. Oh, thank you Lyra” Feon said, taking the kettle and pouring tea. An older boy with ginger hair and green eyes brought it. His long-curled hair was twisted in various strands and weaved into a knot; and he seemed to almost glow with joy while he hummed.

“Ah, one of your children. The Lyra of which you mentioned…” Meriam said.

“Aye, your majesty. I hope you enjoy the tea!” Lyra bowed before dashing off. Meriam gave a cough and returned her attention to Feon.

“You hate children? Why?”

“Hate is a strong word. I prefer the phrase: ‘I am opposed to.’ As too why, maybe it’s I don’t want a dependant human to keep me away from my adventures, or worry me. Or perhaps I don’t wish to put my life at risk to appease a court of men. The reason is irrelevant, and it is no one’s business what I choose to do with my life and body.” Meriam snarled, tossing back the staph. “Give me some of your journals to copy for my records, and tell me what you want to know about my abilities; or more why I don’t just use them to resurrect people or manipulate their memories.”

“I’m sorry. Just don’t understand is all. But as for your special magic, the question in these times isn’t why you don’t use your powers, but why Anglia doesn’t make you.” Feon said.

NEXT--->

<---PREVIOUS

#art #tales of ealdan cynedom #short stories #fantasy #story 19 #meriam #nihten #feon #lyra #sirulius #edmond #luthid

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beardedniall · 5 years

Text

Chasing

Author’s note: I’m sure I’m not the only one writing about this scenario but I had to have my go at it. This is based on Nice To Meet Ya and everything Niall has said about it so far. Club hopping, finding and losing each other at each one, the saucy stuff eventually. Big thanks to @undertheniall for basically outlining the whole plot with me. Love you!!

Words: 5k (rip)

Warnings: NSFW, drinking, a bad pick up line, unsafe sex

“Four Gin Tonics, please”, Alicia shouted at the barkeeper while she held up four fingers so he would definitely understand what she wanted.

Your eyes roamed through the club. It was well patronised but not too full. While you were looking for the spot where the other half of your group of friends was waiting for you and the drinks, you felt something on your arm.

“Careful there.”

The voice came from behind you and the person who it belonged to had grabbed your elbow to stop it from knocking over a bottle on the bar. You turned around only to be met with a set of stunning blue eyes and a charming grin.

“Oh uh, thank you”, you laughed nervously, “I’m a bit clumsy sometimes.”

“I’m Niall.”

He let go of your arm and offered you his hand to shake it.

“Y/N.”

“Mind if I’d get ya a drink?”

You hesitated for a second. Alicia already ordered for you and you didn’t want to leave her alone with four Gin Tonics to carry. But you also didn’t want to reject his offer. Before you knew it, a “Yeah, sure” left your lips with a smile on your face. Alicia would understand.

“What do you drink, love?”

“Gin Tonic?”

“Gotcha.”

While Niall was distracted with getting the barkeeper’s attention, you quickly turned around to your best friend who was already trying to get all the glasses in her hands.

“It’s alright Y/N, I can see you’re occupied”, she giggled, “He’s really fucking handsome.”

“I know right? You’re the best, thank you.”

She gave you a big grin and accepted the smooch you placed on her cheek before she made her way through the crowd with the bunch of drinks between her hands. You gave your attention back to Niall who was now ordering and handing a bill to the barkeeper.

“Thank you”, you said to him a few moments later when he handed you your glass and clicked it with his beer bottle

“Wanna get to a corner that’s more quiet?”

He leaned in closer than necessary to ask you that question. The music was loud and it was quite packed around you but you could understand each other rather well face to face. Still, his breath hitting your neck sent a flash down your spine. All you could do was nod as an answer before you wrapped your free hand around his biceps and followed him to an empty space next to the bar.

“Are you here alone?”, you wanted to know, half expecting him to say yes because the way he approached you practically screamed that he was only here to take someone home with him eventually.

“Nah, I’m with some friends. Actually, I should be getting them their beers but I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“Oh? So you’re the unreliable friend of the group?”

“I got my priorities straight.”

A light blush started to grace your cheeks. You usually weren’t one to be easily impressed by a random dude trying to pick you up at a club but the tone in Niall’s voice sounded so genuinely charming to you that you secretly hoped that you were on the same page here about were this was supposed to lead to. The more you had of your drink, the more intense the flirting between the two of you got. Until something rather inconvenient messed with you.

"Sorry, I gotta use the bathroom real quick. Be right back", you excused yourself while placing your hand on his chest and brushing your fingertips over his torso as you walked away. After you had reached the women’s toilet and taken your place in the line, someone bumped into you and clutched at you, almost dragging you down as they stumbled further into the room.

“Y/N shit I gotta-”

The next thing you heard was your friend Jen throwing up into one of the sinks for the lack of a free bathroom stall. While the women and girls around you gave her a disgusted look, you made a big step towards her and put your hands on her waist to help her stand.

“Oh God Jo, what’s wrong? How did you get drunk so quickly?”

After she had rinsed her mouth with water, she supported herself on the edge of the sink and took a few deep breaths.

“I’m not drunk. I didn’t have a lot to eat today. And to be fair, someone had to drink your Gin Tonic.”

“And that had to be you with an empty stomach?”

She only shrugged her shoulders and gave you a halfhearted smirk.

“Should we call Andrew so he can pick you up?”

“Yeah, that’s for the better I guess. I’m not much use like this.”

“I got you. Stay here and drink some water, yeah? I’ll call him.”

When Jen’s boyfriend was informed and on his way to the club, you brought her outside to be with her until he arrived. While you stood there and listened to the bass roaring through the party inside, you checked the time on your phone, thinking of Niall waiting for you. You hoped that he was a patient one and would still be there when you got back inside.

In the meantime, Niall was having a look at his watch for what must have been the tenth time in the past two minutes. He was sure the queue to the ladies’ bathroom was long but it had been almost fifteen minutes now and by how hastily you had interrupted your conversation and left, he started to think that maybe you wouldn’t come back at all. A hand on his shoulder ripped him out of his thoughts.

“Hey man, the fuck are you doing here? We’ve been waiting for our beer for ages now”, Willie slurred into his ear.

“Looks like you got it from somewhere though.”

“Yeah but like… I was worried you died on the way to the bar or something.”

“Don’t worry mate, I’m fine. Waiting for a girl I met at the bar actually.”

“Oh? So you got yourself some already, huh? Well don’t let her make ya wait for too long. We’re ‘bout to head to the next club if ya wanna join.”

“Alright, see ya there in a bit if she doesn’t show up anytime soon.”

Andrew kept his promise of coming as fast as he could because only a few minutes later, he picked up his girlfriend and thanked you for taking care of her.

“Yes, thank you Y/N,” Jen whined before getting into the car.

“Anytime. Let me know when you’re home.”

As soon as they left, you made your way back inside the club and to the other end of the bar where you were hoping Niall was still waiting for you. Luck wasn’t on your side as you looked around from the spot were you had last seen him. You even made quick side trip to the men’s bathroom to see if he was waiting in line there but after not getting lucky there either, you joined your group of friends who were just about to leave as it seemed.

“Y/N, what are you doing here? Don’t tell me handsome guy was a disappointment”, Alicia asked you with pitiful tone in her voice.

“He wasn’t at all”, you sighed and then explained to her what had happened.

“But you collected karma points with this one. C’mon we’re going to the next one. You’ll get distracted there.”

The club across the street was so packed that you were wondering why they still let people in. Thankfully, one of your friends knew the owner so after you had squeezed yourselves through the crowd and to a separated area - you could call it VIP but the people in there usually weren’t that important -, it only took her a few minutes of discussing with the security guy until he opened the cordon for you. While Alicia was looking for an empty booth for you to sit, you scanned the area for familiar faces. And unfortunately, you made a find. Niall was leaning against the backrest of one of the couches while talking to a beautiful tall blonde. When he caught a glimpse at you, he stopped for a second before looking away again.

“Hey c’mere, there’s a group leaving”, Alicia shouted while tugging at your arm to make you move to the other end of the area, “What’s wrong?”

You nodded in the general direction of Niall and waited until your best friend caught up on what was going on.

“Oh fuck. Maybe that’s his cousin? And he’d be happy if you said hello again?”

“Yeah sure”, you playfully rolled your eyes and followed her lead to the booth.

What you didn’t notice was the piercing glance that lied on your back from a certain handsome guy from across the room.

An hour later, Alicia was yet again tugging at your arm. This time to let you know that she was tired of all the pretentious people that had nothing better to talk about than which Rolex their daddy was going to buy them next.

“Can we please go somewhere else?”

“Gladly”, you stated.

You hadn’t seen Niall with the blonde woman again but ever since that encounter, you hadn’t been in the mood for partying so you were hoping a new location would change that. Alicia and you left the rest of the group behind. They wanted to stay and you knew they didn’t like the club you wanted to go to next anyway. It was a bit of a sleazy one compared to the other clubs in this part of the city but they played a lot of good old rock music and other classics from past decades. Since you were there for distraction, the two of you went to the dancefloor right away, headbanging to Dropkick Murphy’s Rose Tattoo within a crowd of mostly students and Gen X people that were still young at heart.

“This is so much more fun than those snobs in the other one”, Alicia gasped half an hour later while you were sneaking your way towards the bar. When you were standing behind her just like you did at the beginning of this night, something - or rather someone - next to the bar caught your eye. Niall kept up the eye contact for a few seconds before a smug grin appeared on his lips and he winked at you.

“I may or may not have a handsome guy emergency.”

“Huh? He’s here?”

“Yes and he winked at me. That’s code for ‘I’m not mad at you for letting me wait for so long, would you please come here’, right?”

“Yeah I’m sure that’s what it stands for”, Alicia giggled, “Well go then. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay if I don’t come back, please let me know when you got home safely, yeah? And don’t you dare walk this time.”

“I’m grown, Y/N, I’ll be fine. You let me know if handsome guy’s legit or if you need help getting rid of him.”

“Love you, talk to you tomorrow”, you said goodbye to her before kissing her cheek and making your way over to Niall.

“We keep bumping into each other, huh?”

The tone in your voice was supposed to sound as casual as possible but you were afraid he saw right through you.

“We wouldn’t if you hadn’t leave me hanging the first time.”

“Well yeah… sorry about that actually. I know this is gonna sound like a very lame excuse but my friend was puking her guts out at the bathroom and I took care of her until her boyfriend came to pick her up. And when I got back to our spot, you were gone. Understandably.”

“It does sound like a lame excuse, not gonna lie. But you’re here, aren’t ya? So you’re either very desperate and changed your mind or you’re telling the truth.”

“Or I’m very desperate and telling the truth?”, you suggested with a grin, making him laugh.

“Well lucky me then. You look like you could use a drink?”

“Oh God yes, I’m so thirsty.”

“You better still be here when I come back”, he joked as he left you behind to get the two of your something at the bar.

“Promise.”

While he was gone, you wanted to check your phone but noticed that the network of your wireless carrier was pretty much dead here. A few minutes later, Niall came back with a beer and another Gin Tonic for you in his hands.

“Thank you”, you grinned at him and clicked your glass with his bottle, “I’m glad I ran into you again.”

The smile he gave you was genuine and probably the softest one you had seen from him so far.

“So am I, love.”

“Do you know the Champions League results from tonight? I don’t have a signal.”

He raised an eyebrow as he fumbled for his phone in his pocket to check if he had any luck.

“Football girl, are ya?”

“I am. Why? Are you one of those guys that think women are only into football to impress men?”

“Not at all, darling. Love me a woman who’s into watching sports. Which team?”

While he scrolled through the app on his phone, you took a step closer to him and put your hand on his arm to sneak a peek.

“Liverpool... what about you? Oh man 0-0? Well at least Munich didn’t score an away goal.”

“Derby first and foremost but Chelsea in the Premier League.”

“Hm, you don’t have anything to do with Champions League this season then, huh?”, you stated with a cheeky look on your face before sipping on your drink significantly.

“That’s rude, Y/N. They’ll get there again.”

“Hmhm, sure.”

He gave you an amused side-eye before putting his phone back and giving his full attention to you.

“I feel like I should change the topic”, you pretended to think aloud, “What brought you here from the comfort of that nice little VIP area anyway?”

“Saw you leaving and might have followed you. Not to be creepy.”

“So you usually wouldn’t come here?”

“No I would. I really like his one so I’m glad you forced me to go here.”

“I didn’t force you to do anything. You’re stalking me”, you declared playfully enraged, “Wait… were you watching us dancing?”

“That really makes me sound like a creep, huh? I mean… I wasn’t staring at you. But I checked if you were still there every now and then.”

“You like the chase?”

“I like you... based on the conversation we had earlier. And I like a challenge, yes.”

You smirked at him before you emptied your drink.

“Would you trust me to use the bathroom again? I swear I’ll get back to you. Even if I have to drag a puking friend over here.”

“Very flattering. I’ll wait, darling.”

Even though you were pretty sure that no one would interrupt you and even if, that Niall would have a little more patience this time, you hurried to get to the restroom and get back to where you left him. He had his back facing you so once you stood right behind him you placed your palms on his shoulder blades and let them move upwards to his neck, causing him to throw back his head and chuckle. After you had let go of him, he turned around to look at you.

“Glad it’s you. That would’ve been awkward if it had been someone else.”

You giggled and took the empty beer bottle out of his hand.

“My turn to get us something to drink.”

“I’ll come with you.”

The area around the bar was a little more crowded so it took you some time to squeeze through all the people, one of Niall’s hands constantly on your waist, until you had reached the barkeeper to order two beers. A man who looked like he had already been riding a Harley Davidson way before you were born offered you his barstool to sit on.

“Oh thanks.”

Niall was still right behind you and now leaned forward to support himself by putting a hand on the bar, basically trapping you between the wood and his body. And you couldn’t say that you minded.

“So here you drink beer instead of Gin Tonic?”, he asked you with a smirk on his face, as if he was making a little fun of you.

“I do, I just don’t like to start my night with it.”

“You’d rather end it with beer?”

“So to say.”

“There’s a lot of it where I live. If you wanna end the night there.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from bursting out into laughter.

“Was that supposed to be smooth?”

“Yeah I knew it was awful the moment I said it.”

“I can get over it if you bring me to that place where all the beer is.”

“So it works?”

“You work, not your bad pick up lines.”

“Wanna get outta here right now?”

You nodded as you took a sip from your full bottle before you put it on the bar and took his hand to let him lead you through the crowd and out of the club. Once outside, he called an Uber and pulled you closer to him for the time being.

“You cold?”, he asked you while stroking your arm.

“I’m a big girl, it’s fine.”

His hand wandered from your shoulder over your neck to your cheek where he gently pushed your head towards him to place a kiss on your temple. The Uber didn’t take long to arrive and as you closed the car door, an euphoric feeling of excitement rushed through your body. This night had been rather chaotic and now you were really on your way to this guy’s place, hopefully not only to drink beer. That reminded you of texting Alicia quickly.

Leaving with handsome guy now ;) xx

Throughout the whole ride, Niall’s fingers had brushed over your thigh. He had kept it lowkey so far but you had a feeling that once you were at his home, the tension between the two of you would take care of that. You were a bit stunned when you saw where the driver was stopping but then again, Niall already smelled rich. You had thought that he wouldn’t bring you to a greasy shared student flat but this was a lot more than you would have expected. As soon as the door fell shut behind you, he grabbed your waist and pulled you against his chest before leaning down to place little kisses all over the nape of your neck.

“I think the beer can wait if ya don’t mind?”

Instead of giving him an answer, you turned in his embrace and involved him in a deep kiss. Your lips found a rhythm right away. It wasn’t as hungry as you would have thought, rather slow and soft, almost careful. You let your hand wander from his chest up to his neck before running your fingers through his hair. A slight layer of hair products covered your fingertips but his little sighs every time you tugged on one of his strands sounded too good to be bothered by that. He leaned into the kiss, his hands roaming from the small of your back down to your butt where he let them rest. Yours in the meantime were sliding down his neck again and over his collarbones.

“Can I take this off?”, you asked with a fake innocence in your voice as you played with the collar of his shirt.

“Let’s get this to the bedroom, shall we?”

It wasn’t a question. He let go of you only to guide you to said room where he closed the door behind him and kicked off his shoes, but not without placing his lips on yours again. You slipped out of your high heels, making you a few centimeters shorter all of a sudden which made both of you chuckle as you interrupted your kiss. Niall pressed his body against yours again and took a step forward to indicate to you that he wanted you on his bed. When the back of your knees hit the edge, you let yourself fall down with him right on top of you. He stood up a moment later however to open the remaining buttons of his shirt before throwing it on the armchair behind him. You watched him from your position on the bed and moved around a little while your fingers fumbled with the zipper of your pants.

“Let me take care of that, darling.”

Niall crawled on top of you again, kissing you passionately and opening your pants slowly so you could wiggle out of them eventually.

“You smell amazing”, he whispered as he buried his face in your neck and took a deep breath.

You leaned into his touch and brushed the tip of your nose over his ear while running your fingers through his hair again.

“Gonna get you out of this, yeah?”

It certainly did something to you that he asked for permission to take off your longsleeve even though you were already in his bed, making out half naked. You lifted your arms to help him as he sneaked his fingers underneath your shirt only to let them wander up the skin of your stomach, dragging the fabric with them. His touch was followed by small kisses that he placed all over your torso as he undressed you painfully slowly. When the hem of the shirt had reached your chest, his fingertips brushed over the sides of your bra while his lips caressed the valley in the center. He carefully nibbled at the swell of your breasts before finally pulling the shirt over your head and giving you another gentle kiss.

His palms stroked over your lace-clad boobs, making you bend your back into a curve so you could press into his touch. He got the hint and sneaked his fingers under your body to fumble with the clasp of your bra. After he had opened it, he slid the straps down your arms and got back up again, taking in the sight of your naked body beneath him.

“Ya stunning”, he stated with genuine awe in his eyes that made you blush.

“Can’t have you getting stunned now.”

Your response made him chuckle before he stood up from the bed to take off his pants.

“Would ya lie down properly for me, love?”

You sat up and crawled over the bed until you were right in the middle of it where you laid back down, letting your fingertips wander over your own torso as you watched him get undressed. After being left in only his boxer briefs - that already showed off a nice bulge -, he joined you on the bed, positioning himself between your ankles that he meaningfully spread apart. He bend down to lie between your calves, his hands wrapping around your legs to pull your center a bit closer to his face. His lips brushed over the inside of your thighs, kissing you there, nibbling at the sensitive skin, probably leaving a mark for the next morning. When his nose nudged against the hem of your panties, you knew what was going to happen next. He got back on his knees and hooked his fingers under the waistband to dragged them down your thighs slowly, over your knees and off eventually. While he got into his former position, he turned his head to the side to kiss your leg until he reached the inside of your thigh again and lied on his stomach.

Niall leaned forward to place an open mouthed kiss on your pussy. A blissful sigh left your lips as you stretched yourself and put your arms behind your head, closing your eyes and enjoying what this beautiful man between your legs did to you. His lips caressed your slit, teasing you because they were careful to not touch your most sensitive spot yet. Instead, they wandered to the part where your thighs met your hips, leaving a few kisses there before getting back to the center.

The tip of his tongue sneaked between your folds and went from your entrance to the top, nudging against your clit, causing you to whimper quietly. He closed his lips around the little bundle of nerves and sucked on it. A flash started right at that spot and ran through your whole body, covering your skin in goosebumps. You could feel yourself getting wetter while Niall kept eating you out as if he had waited all night for this. He used two of his fingers to spread your lips so he could properly lick his way up and down your pussy. His other hand teased your entrance, a fingertip dipping inside of you to the first knuckle, only to draw back again.

“Niall… please.”

He looked up where his gaze met your flushed cheeks and closed eyes, an expression of pleasure and desperation on your face. Instead of giving you want you wanted, he let go of you with both his mouth and his fingers, leaving you high and dry beneath him as he sat up on his knees. You opened your eyes, giving him a pleading look but all you got in return was a smug smirk.

“Don’t worry, love. I got you”, he let you know before he took off his boxer briefs and got further between your legs. While you let your eyes wander up and down his body, biting your lip in anticipation of what was to come, he wrapped his hand around one of your calves and lifted your leg slightly to have better access.

“Are ya on birth control?”

You nodded in response before you added, “Please…”

“Please what, darling?”

“Fuck me, please.”

When he had asked, he had been expecting you to say something along the lines of “Need you” or “Want you inside me” but those words out of your mouth made his cock twitch. For a quick second, he thought about teasing you a little longer but that would only be teasing himself as well.

He wanted you. Bad.

As he bent down, one of his arms supported him while the other one pulled you towards his center before he guided his cock between your folds. You wrapped your leg around his hips and sighed in pleasure from the delicious feeling of him filling you.

“Fuck, you feel incredible.”

His voice was hoarse and you could hear how he was trying to hold himself back and not fuck you senseless right away. He gave you time to adjust to his size before he started to move slowly, carefully, as if you were made out of glass.

“Niall”, you whimpered, “Fuck me.”

Again, his dick twitched. Encouraged by your words, he picked up the pace, sliding in and out of you in a strong steady rhythm. The noises you made were filthy. Hungry moans, skin slapping against skin, the wetness of your pussy audible.

“Such a perfect little cunt”, Niall gasped before using his free hand to slip between your bodies and play with your clit.

You lifted your arms and reached out for him, making him bend down to let you place your palms on his back and involve him in a passionate kiss. He kissed you just as deeply as he fucked you, moving with you in perfect sync as you felt the familiar knot building up in your lower stomach.

“‘m close”, you

His mouth had brought you pretty far already and you had secretly hoped that he would make you come like that. But you then realized that Niall was a tease, that he wasn’t one to give you what you wanted but something better. Your words seemed to motivate him to bring you where you needed to be. He hit you deep, the force of his thrusts sent shocks of pleasure through your bones. His thumb on your clit was the final straw for you when he perfectly timed both the sensations inside and outside of your pussy.

You clenched around him uncontrollably. Your back left the sheets while the warmth spread in your whole body and made you shiver. His name left your lips a thousand times and your fingernails digging into the skin of his back would leave some marks tomorrow without doubt. While he gently fucked you through your orgasm, his hand stroked your cheek lovingly, adding the blissful feeling of affection to the pleasure you were experiencing. You came down from your high slowly, panting as he kept sliding in and out of you, chasing his own orgasm. Your pussy still twitching around him tipped him over the edge.

“Fucking hell.”

He threw back his head and stayed still as the exciting flashes pierced through his nerves. You could feel his cock throbbing while he spurted his cum inside of you. The look on his face was relaxed, satisfied and in your post-orgasm bliss, he looked like a piece of art above you. A few moments later, he slid out of you, leaving you uncomfortably empty but pleasantly aching, before he collapsed next to you, careful not to crush you. You cuddled into his side and kissed his collarbone, your leg wrapped around his as you listened to his breathing getting back to a normal pattern. He put an arm around you, turned his head and lifted your chin with two fingers to give you a sweet gentle kiss.

“Are ya staying?”, he whispered after letting go of your lips.

“If you don’t want me to leave.”

“I don’t. One time is enough for tonight.”

You buried your face in his neck, smiling as you already imagined how to wake him up in the morning.

#niall horan #niall horan x reader #niall horan smut #niall horan fanfiction #niall james horan #niall horan imagine #niall horan oneshot #niall horan blurb #my writing

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paradise-of-guilty-pleasures · 4 years

Text

Shattered Reflections {21}

[Helsa RP- Fanfic]

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Post-Frozen/ Canon Divergence

- Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance

Pairing(s): Hans/Elsa, Kristoff/Anna

Previous Chapter: 20. Boys’ Night A/N:

More Helsa heavy chapters to come

21. Nonchalant

The girls' night concluded after plenty more sisterly bonding after their tea party. The parlor which had been in a state of disarray, because of the construction of the pillow fort, was reverted back to its original state. It was put together rather quickly thanks to the help of Kristoff who had returned before bedtime like promised. Elsa was in charge of the last chore, returning the borrowed pillows and blankets, they'd offered to help her with that task, but assured them it was best if she did it herself since she knew exactly where to return the items. Elsa said she'd head to bed after finishing her errand so they all wished each other good night and were off in opposite directions.

Elsa had returned the other items rather quickly and now she hesitantly stood outside Hans' door firmly hugging the pillow across her chest. Maybe it had been a bad idea to take his pillow in the first place. She was starting to hope that room would be vacant once again, though she knew that would likely not be the case this time. Something about having her hair down made her extra anxious (even though Anna said it made her seem more relaxed), Kristoff had seen it of course, but that didn't bother her, he was already like a brother. She knew she couldn't stall forever; she had left a note after all. She held her breath as she opened the door.

When she entered she saw the next best thing she could hope for, which was Hans already laying down in bed asleep, in a rather strange position but in bed nonetheless. The breath finally escaped her lungs in relief, one less thing to worry about she thought. Now all she had to drop off the pillow by the bedside.

Hans was not a heavy sleeper. He had twelve brothers, he couldn't afford to be. But he was also a man of deception, so he remained still, and measured his breathing as she neared, listening. Footsteps too light to be a guard, so it had to be Elsa, only confirmed by the slight chill in the room. He opened an eye carefully, under his arm, with just enough gap to see her by.

"I never thought I'd live to see your hair down." He murmured, before he could stop himself. Maybe he'd had more than he thought, but surely it would have worn off by then. Sleep dulling his senses, perhaps? "I suppose now I can die happy." he added, entirely as a joke. He'd already alerted her that he was awake, may as well toss subtlety out the window and make it humor instead. He was good at that. Somehow referencing his depression and making a joke all at once seemed to be sort of a trend for him.

His voice resonating in the silence had completely startled her. She let out a yelp and before her mind could fully process his words, her body practically moved on it's own, tossing the pillow at his face out of pure reflex.

Elsa let out a nervous laugh.

"Oh, you're awake," her voice higher pitched than usual. "I'm so sorry!" she panically stated, realizing the pillow left her grasp. Good thing she'd thrown the pillow at him instead of ice, though it was possible the pillow was at the very least slightly frosted over.

Hans laughed at the pillow throw, downright giggly at the sudden pillow fight.

"Well I can't say I didn't deserve that." He admitted through his fit of laughter. Maybe it was the drinking, or the evening before, but he found it easy to laugh that night. "No need to apologize, I startled you, and I should've known better. Perhaps I should be grateful you didn't hit me with a snowball." He proposed sweetly. He nonchalantly shifted down to reclaim the pillow (which had bounced off of him and flopped off the bed) and got back up to put it behind his head, though cringed a little. His wound was still a little sore.

"Today was a lovely day on my part, I hope yours was as well." He hummed, laying back again as nonchalant as ever. If not moreso. He had never been one to sit or lay while others stood, but her being there so frequently and him being so injured so often (and the drinking didn't help here), he didn't seem to mind it this time. Or maybe it was just to illustrate to her that she wasn't a bother to him.

Elsa's face was florid from the embarrassment of being caught by surprise, and with her mind finally settling and registering what Hans had murmured surely didn't help diminish the bloom of her cheeks. She definitely took notice that Hans seemed a bit more laid-back than usual (both figuratively and literally), but it was more than his posture that cued her in, the subtle difference of his laughter had also caught her attention.

"Yeah, so-," she caught herself from apologizing again. "I don't know if I can say the same about my day as a whole, being busy and all, but my evening was indeed a lovely one, spending some much needed time with Anna," she affirmed with a smile. She hadn't noticed but she was fidgeting with her hair. Holding and sliding a long lock of her hair in between the first three fingers of her alternating hands in a repetitive motion. Elsa normally didn't wear her hair down so it made sense that she'd subconsciously want to touch it in one of her anxious mannerisms. "I just came by to return your pillow like promised."

"Promised?" He hummed, seeming somewhat bewildered. "Ah, was that that scratching?" He reached behind his head and looked for whatever he had felt, before uncovering the paper. "I admit, I was tired and didn't think to care what I landed on. Rest assured, the pillow wasn't particularly missed." He assured, with an amused look. He almost seemed like a different person when he was smiling, to when he was sad. But he could change between the two so very quickly.

"I meant what I said, you know. Your hair is beautiful when it's down. It always is, but especially when it's down." He occupied himself reading the note, then idly folding it. He seemed to be doing it to some purpose, but not really for something grand. Just a thing to play with. He didn't know why he was telling her that, but it seemed so simple now. So easy. He would undoubtedly hate himself for saying it later, but why not take the chance while he didn't feel bad about it?

"The Captain of the Guard and I were drinking, don't pay me too much mind, I'm sure I'll make even more a fool of myself. But I suppose that's my official title these days." He hummed. He finished toying with the note over the course of a few moments, and presented her with the result: A little paper frog. Not perfectly folded, a bit wrinkled from being slept on and from his own failed folds (as he only half-remembered how it was supposed to be done), but it still had a little bit of spring in its feet, and could sort of haphazardly hop when pressed down to the table (even if it might typically fall on its back). Simple and silly.

"I-Uh...Thank you," she acknowledged rather shyly, the crimson continued to suffuse her cheeks at his repeated words of praise. So he'd been out drinking, that would explain a lot, inebriation (as well as drowsiness) were surely the reasoning behind his more mellow mood. Having a more airy Hans was far better than a somber one, even if it caused some awkwardness. She definitely wouldn't be able to easily ignore him even if it was just tipsy babbling. Elsa smiled at the paper frog, it was a cute little craft. She tried pressing down on it herself.

"It must have been nice to finally spend some time outside, instead of being confined to this room," she said. A slight shiver crossed her body as memory of her own confinement momentarily re-emerged, she quickly shook her head and got rid of it. "Hopefully your wounds didn't give you too much trouble today." Elsa showed concern about him like always, he had regained a lot of his mobility, but he wasn't completely out of the woods just yet he still had a bit of healing to do. "It sounds like you're already getting along quite well with the Captain, that's good to hear," she commented. Hans and the Captain would have together for a while with the training regimen, it was good that they were already becoming chummy enough to warrant going out for drinks.

"My wound hurt a little, but only because I did something stupid, as men are wont to do. I took it easy after that, rest assured. Training the men got more physical than I had intended, I think I'll try to stick to paperwork for a few more weeks, much as it pains me." He hummed. "I got to see Sitron at the stables, after drinks. I ran into Kristoff and Olaf, and Sven, and we had a fine time." He had to pause to remember the reindeer's name. "Sitron seems cared for, but he needs more riding time. If it's alright with you, I may take more time out with him." And there was the crux of it, 'if it's alright with you'. It wasn't bars or locks keeping him where he was, but her wants.

"Oh?" Hans' forthcoming was surprising, yes, but him willing to refrain from being stubborn and allowing himself to heal, was even more so. Maybe he finally discerned that if he was to remain patient for a little while longer, he'd be able to heal up much faster and no longer have to be shut up in his chamber for most the day. Elsa smiled at the fact that he was going to try to take it easy, for the time being, well at least as easy as Hans would allow himself to be. "Of course, I don't see why not. I'm sure Sitron misses you and he could really use the exercise," Elsa affirmed giving him a warm smile. Hans knew how to best care for him and she surely wasn't going to keep a man from his horse.

Hans smiled a bit at that. "He did. We were both excited to see each-other. I'm afraid I distracted all of us from our outing to go see my horse, and groom him. Sitron has always been a friend to me, and I do look out for my friends and allies." He hummed. "And, whatever we are." He glanced at her, a curious look in his eyes. "I still find it difficult to discern, to be honest. I don't think of you as an enemy. I never have. But I'm not sure you would appreciate me calling you a friend, either. Especially not while Anna still hates me -as she rightfully ought to, I suppose-. If anything, hers is the most sensible reaction I've seen from me. The guards murmured a bit, but I won them over quickly. Captain Johannes told me some still have doubts and that they haven't forgotten, I'll believe it when I see it." He felt it easier to talk to her that evening. It didn't feel like it was because of the alcohol, but maybe it was. It just felt like... he wanted to talk about it. It didn't feel like a bunch of secrets, it felt like things she must have already surmised. Like friends discussing a nuisance of one's day, not dissecting his character.

Elsa glimpsed back at him. She let a titter escape as she combed her hair atop her head with one of her fingers. "Yeah, it really is hard to know where exactly we stand, given the odd circumstances." Elsa concurred. "You know, I was also wondering about that myself, being able to consider you a friend, I mean. I wasn't sure if I could call you that, and not because of Anna or that I don't want us to be friends, I was just uncertain," Elsa expressed and paused biting her bottom lip a bit. "Because to tell you the truth, I don't have many friends, and I don't know if I can count Anna since she's my sister, so as you can imagine I'm not very good when it comes to that sort of thing," Elsa explained. "The Ice Queen, still having trouble warming up, big surprise. Thirteen years of isolation surely didn't help in that regard,"she huffed. "Though Anna seemed to have gotten the hang of it unlike me, but then again she's always been amiable, social and striving to connect with people," she recognized. She paused once again getting lost down memory lane.

"It's silly but, I didn't have a companion like Sitron or Sven, instead for the longest time, since I couldn't interact with Anna, I had a Sir Jorgenbjorgen, he was a little stuffed puffin doll I would talk to," she reminisced. "Had I known sooner that I had the ability to bring my creations to life, I might have tried to make myself a friend," Elsa considered, lost deeper in her thoughts. There was one last pause before she noticed. "Oh, sorry, I'm getting carried away." Elsa realized she had gotten a bit too caught up in the friend talk, maybe she was being too chatty herself, but since they were already opening up to each other, might as well just say what was on her mind, just because it felt right to do so. "Anyway, I don't know what else we could deem ourselves if not friends." She didn't address how others might feel about Hans, because it was pretty obvious how she felt herself, if she was considering him her friend.

Hans looked up at her, with perhaps a bit of hope in his eyes. "Do get carried away more, it's easier to converse when both sides are chatty." He pointed out with a little smile. "Friends, then?" He asked, almost wary. She may have been isolated for years, but Hans was familiar with backstabbing and attempts to be perfect. Elsa may have been slow-melting ice, but Hans was more of a doe, listening for trouble and leaping away at the first movement, even if it was from a future friend. "I like that your puffin was a sir. That's cute." He hummed. "I had my journals, why wouldn't you have a doll? I had to be wary of echoes, you had to be wary of living things. I can't imagine being afraid to touch life. I suppose we were both prisoners in our bedrooms in different ways. You to hide from yourself, and protect others; me to hide from others and protect myself. At least I could wander out, most times." He seemed less than comfortable thinking about it, not quite frowning, but not looking happy. "I'm glad you can still love your castle and kingdom. I can't." He would visit home if someone was dying; but he had no further desire to. He doubted they kept his things in his room. He was only a prince in name so he could visit the dying, because they knew his father wouldn't live long. "Ah, there I go, turning grim after we were having such a lovely day before. I didn't mean to bring us down." His tone was lighter and apologetic, to make up for his gloominess. Even though it may not have been him starting the gloom, he blamed himself and his mercurial moods.

"Yes, Friends," Elsa replied with smiling eyes. It felt good to finally have a bit more clarity on the relationship between them. "I'm sure it was my doing this time, I have a knack of turning things sour without wanting to," She assured, remembering how well the conversation with Anna went before the fun finally started. "Let's see if I can just as easily divert it back to being lovely again," Elsa affirmed, taking a moment to ponder. "Oh, I know! Aren't you the least bit curious as to know what the pressing matter that required me to borrow your pillow?" She asked. It was going to be a bit embarrassing to admit, but it got the conversation to revert back into something more pleasant. It didn't really matter.

Hans looked up at her curiously, and grinned playfully. "Missed me that much?" He proposed, with mock flattery and a playful smile. She looked ready to go to bed, with her hair down. He had to be careful not to think too much about that all at once. "Alright, I'll bite, why borrow my pillow?" He had guesses (after all, how many reasons could there be?) but he participated for the sake of the conversation. The longer it lasted, the more time he spent in her presence, and could admire her beauty while he thought she wouldn't notice.

She giggled a bit. Even though Hans himself was joking it technically wasn't far from the truth, she had indeed wished to see him, though she wouldn't actually admit it and she hadn't playfully denied it either. "Well, how else would we construct Arendelle's most extravagant pillow fort? " Elsa laughed followed by a sigh. "Childish I know, and most unbecoming of a Queen, but I must admit it was rather fun, doing things with Anna we never got the chance to do growing up."

Hans smiled a little, especially in his eyes, where crow's feet would form well before any other wrinkles made themselves prominent with age. "Now if we can't spend our adulthood being childish, whatever did we grow up for?" He joked easily. "We're both rather giggly tonight. I quite like it. And I'm glad to hear I'm not the only one with a penchant for childish behavior. Olaf got me to smile earlier with bad puns, and the time at the pub-- well I think the Captain thinks of me as the obnoxious young recruit more than a trainer to his troops, but he reminds me of the Captain of my ship, in spite of being much younger. I wouldn't have it any other way." He hummed. He sounded as if the day had overall been quite positive, even if -for a time- he had been quite melancholy. It seemed that was his natural state of being, and happy any time someone got him out of it.

"It is rather nice," Elsa agreed as a grin crossed her face. The two of them sharing a moment in good spirits was very pleasant. "I may not be able to indulge in acting childish often, but I won't deny it's enjoyable to do so," she laughed a bit more, the laughter sure seemed to be contagious tonight."I'm glad you were able to have a nice night out."

"Hmm, why not? Perhaps you simply need to take more time to be a child." He suggested, gesturing to the little paper frog he had made. "I learned to make those in Japan, then promptly forgot. With a little struggling I can get them almost like they're supposed to look. And that's one of the easy ones. Some people can make flapping birds,dogs, cats, all out of folded paper. It's a mystery to me, I guess I just don't have the mind for it. But I like the little hopping frog fold. Simple and cute."

Elsa smiled at the frog, poking it once again. "I don't think it would make the right impression if I was regarded as 'Elsa the Childish Ice Queen of Arendelle'," she jokingly remarked with a snort. "Actually, I've already planned to make more time, I promised Anna to try doing more fun things we didn't get to do together."

"Hmm, I try on titles and attitudes like most try shoes. Something different for any occasion, no need to let one define you. Why bother? Of course, I'm hardly the picture of mental health." He remained casual, leaning back, though he propped himself up a little more to converse with her. Maybe he just preferred there to be a power imbalance. It made him less of a threat. Especially with his sword still on the bureau. "My moods change faster than the tides, as does my personality and my behavior, if I could do anything else as fast, I'd be a much more productive human being. But it means I have the freedom to be a different person to everyone I meet, if I choose to be. I'd say it doesn't change who I am at heart, but I'm not convinced there's a layer deeper than that. I'm still a mirror, I am whatever others want or need me to be, and that's why I get all the titles. My favorite so far was Admiral, but my second-favorite is Fool. I suppose it's the only one I gave myself." He mused. He didn't really have a singular purpose to mention it, he just found it intriguing. "At any rate, you can have more time to be a child, and not be defined as childish. Even kings and queens must laugh."

Elsa didn't care too much what people thought of her, but then again she was a Queen and a big sister, two titles she felt didn't allow freedom to be carefree, responsibility seemed to have been engraved as a part of her personality from a young age. She might have seemed serious and resolute in remaining regal, but she didn't really mind being like that, actually she preferred it, it was essentially how she was in character, she could never be abundantly energetic like Anna that was way too draining.

"Adaptability isn't necessarily a bad attribute, sounds exhilarating having that freedom explore the infinite possibilities, instead of being set in stone." There was a part of Elsa wished she wasn't bound by the expectations (that she'd mostly placed on her own shoulders) and she could have the freedom to be that flexible. "I guess you're right, even I deserve some fun," she answered.

Elsa then pursed her lips and pondered.

"Do you think I'm too serious? I know I can be a bit of a stickler," she wondered. All this talk made it sound like she was normally no fun at all, and maybe that was true, she was rather duty driven. Perhaps what she was really trying to ask was what was his impression of her.

Hans considered her question a bit. "Seriousness is a necessary evil, especially as a royal. You need to be able to be serious when the time calls for it. But we can't stop enjoying life, else there's no reason to have it. I adventure and enjoy wordplay, that's how I enjoy life. You're dutiful, but I think you're serious for work, and very human otherwise. You laugh and smile and tease. Some military men seem like they hold onto their frowns and barked orders like a man holds to a life raft. Those types of men tend not to like me, because I refuse to take them seriously." Hans smiled to himself, ever the young rogue. "People like that tend to demand respect they haven't earned with me, or expect me to follow them because I'm young. Ah, but alas, I suppose I am a follower again. My highest rank now is 'Queen's Fool'." He smiled a little to himself just the same. As far as it was from 'prince', he still had an inordinate fondness for the title. At least in part because nobody really hired fools anymore. "Very human, hm?" she repeated in a murmur. She smiled, that really was a compliment to her, since she often tended to forget that. "That's quite the title, the highest ranking Fool in the land, a very rare achievement indeed, I can see why you are quite fond of it," Elsa playfully teased.

Hans laughed a little, smiling at her. "Well I can't think of a better kingdom to be a fool in. Careful, I might start asking for pay. Though, if I keep playing cards with the men I'm training, I might need one anyway." He laughed. "I wonder how the history books will write about me. 'The fool who trained the Queen's Guards, a failed treasoner and prince of a foreign land', I like the reverse-ordering. I'm sure they'll gloss over the admiralty, history books always seem to miss the important bits." He chuckled and shook his head. "Of course it's only by the treason I'd have made it in, anyway." He shrugged. "Glad it didn't work out, though. In spite of all my pains and injuries, I am glad life has brought me to where I am. I just wish it had taken a somewhat different path to get here."

Elsa smiled and laughed along with him, up until the treason talk. "I'm glad you're here too," she reassured softly. "It might not have been the preferable path, but life might not have granted the same possibilities any other way."

"There're so many good things that might not have happened had we not gone down the paths we’d chosen."

"Just so." Hans hummed. She brought him a sense of peace, even though he felt somewhat trapped there in his room. Even healed, he tended not to explore the small space.

"Not the preferable path, indeed. If I'd have known about your powers, maybe we could have been friends. I certainly would have been a lot more careful." He thought about it a moment, then waved the thought off. "Best not to think about 'what ifs', they only lead to sadness, I find."

He seemed to be right, the unattainable 'what ifs' did indeed only tended to bring sorrow of how things might have been. She was melancholy for a moment as she let out a sigh. Then a strange concept crossed her mind.

"That seems to be true, but what if," Elsa giggled a little at the way she started that statement. "Instead of thinking of the impossible 'what ifs' of the past, we think of the potential 'what ifs' of the present and the future." She suggested. "I think those are far less gloomy since they are still probable prospects."

"Like what if I did officially grant you the title of fool?" That part was of course just another joke, but certainly not out of the realm of possibility.

Hans chuckled. "Embarrassing, truly, yet charming. I imagine my family would never understand that I'd sooner be a fool in Arendelle than a prince in the Isles." He admitted idly. "Well then, what if my work here somehow encouraged the Isles to give back my titles? Then I would be a fool admiral and a fool prince. What a combination. One confusing hierarchy of titles. My mother would hate it, therefore I'm for it." He chuckled dryly.

Elsa wasn't sure if she should ask the next question, but the 'what if' of returning titles made her curious. After a brief hesitation she decided to ask.

"What if you were given the opportunity to sail again, would you?" She wondered, wringing her hands. Her crimson nails contrasting her porcelain skin. It was a bittersweet question even for a hypothetical, since she wouldn't want him to leave, yet she knew how much he loved the sea and adventure and was rather curious to find out if he would. She'd asked him a similar question before about why he'd returned to Arendelle instead of sailing away. She wondered if his answer would differ, given other circumstances, such as regaining his admiralty.

He thought about it a bit. "Of course, I do love adventure; but I must return to a friendly port now and then to rest and restock and call home. I would sooner that be here than the Isles, if Arendelle would have me. I daresay the Isles has no need for me now, if I'm no longer an Admiral, and not counted in the line of succession. I have nowhere I must be but where Her Majesty assigns me." He gestured to Elsa, not toward home. His mother was Queen Consort and had no true say in the running of the government.

His answer had put her mind at ease. Elsa smiled a bit. "But of course, if you are indeed considering yourself my fool it's only logical that Arendelle would be your home," she affirmed. It felt a little strange to call him her fool in the possessive especially out loud, but she was in fact the Queen and he was her fool. It did embarrass her a little to have said after the fact, even if it was only meant to be playful banter.

Hans smiled a little at the thought. He was welcomed there, even if it was only as a jester in her court. "I could always be considered the Guard Trainer or whatever official title that would be. In the Isles, we had the Swordmaster, who taught us boys to swing a sword, but that was a bit of a different job." He admitted, considering the thought.

Oh, right his real official title, she had practically forgotten about that and it made her fluster a bit more.

"Yes, definitely," she nodded."I'm not quite sure of the official name yet either, but we'll figure it out soon enough." She assured him.

"Hmm, what about Combat Consultant? It has a nice ring to it, but I don't know. Do you have any other ideas?" Elsa suggested and asked him for his input. "Oh, and before I forget since we're on the topic of training. Kristoff might be the one watching over us while you're training me." She informed him.

"Oh that does have a nice ring. 'Consultant' sounds a bit like desk work, though. There must be a term for the one who trains the guards, that isn't 'captain'. I'd hate to dethrone the captain we have, after all." He chuckled at the thought. He would absolutely tease the Captain about it if it happened, but he thought it might make a bit of a sore spot. "Ah, we'll figure it out." He shrugged.

"That's fine with me, Kristoff is a nice young man, dutiful and level-headed. Hell, he can join, if he likes. Give you someone to vent to when you both get tired of hearing me quote 'A Treatise on The Swordsmen of the Southern Isles' at you. It's not a common book, probably doesn't exist outside of the Isles. If it does exist in your library I'll be surprised, but feel free to read it in advance, if you do have it. It's a written explanation of the 'implied sword-culture' of the Isles, and goes into detail about why we give up swords, what it means, all sorts of minutia you might not care about. And some things that might actually help swordplay, occasionally." He chuckled a little. It was clearly a favorite read of his. One of those books, not read for entertainment, but guidance; as a man reads a bible.

"Yeah, we'll figure it out later,"she concurred. Elsa really didn't want to step on anyone's toes, by making Hans the new captain, so she hoped to come up with a suitable solution without having to resort to that. "Oh dear, are you going to make me regret acquiescing before we even begin?" She giggled. "I'll be sure to check the library, I doubt we have a copy, but you never know."

He chuckled a little and shrugged. "I have a fondness for my country's 'sword culture'. It's one of the few parts of it I like. But that's mostly fluff. Cultural details that won't necessarily apply to you, though you may gain an appreciation for how and when I carry mine. It's perhaps the political equivalent of a lady's fan-language, or perhaps that's an odd English trend. I never bothered to learn whether ladies truly bother with communicating with coquettish fanning. It seems a bit silly to me. I'd say I'm more straightforward than that, but you and I both know that's a lie." He laughed dryly. He was a man who chose his words carefully, most times. Still, he seemed to be learning how to be more casual with her-- for good or ill.

"I would actually like to try to understand that fondness, as well as the significance behind the swords, it honestly sounds like an interesting topic, besides I don't mind a history lesson," Elsa smilingly nodded. It was true, Hans seemed to take his sword culture seriously, and if it was something important to him she wanted to learn more about it to know why, believing that it might give her a better idea of who Hans was at heart. "As for fan-language I wouldn't know too much of that myself either, I never learned any of that, there was really no use for it, considering," Elsa did a quick demonstration of her magic, in the palm of her hand."Nor was I ever interested in that sort of thing, so it was for the best. I also think it's rather silly, though I'm fairly certain Anna knows how to do it, she's always liked things like that, and think I've seen her play around with a fan. Seems unnecessary complicated to me, just like a certain person I know," Elsa giggled, she was kidding of course, playing along with what he'd said before.

"All too complicated." He agreed with a smile. "If you can get a copy of the book out here, it's a thin one, if dense. If not, I'll likely cover most of it while I teach you, anyway. Just as soon as I can do that without injuring myself." He touched his old stab wound. It hardly needed bandages, but it was still scabbed and occasionally spotted blood. It would heal soon.

"I'll see if I can get my hands on one, though it might be better to just wait and hear it from you, your way with words is certainly a lot more vibrant than reading them from a book, that's for sure" she acknowledged. "Yes, please do heal up first, we wouldn't want to keep you trapped in here, because of yet another injury two is more than enough."

Hans chuckled a little. "Much as I've managed to enjoy my confinement, it will be nice to get out of this damned bed, at least." He admitted. "I don't mind being in a cell or a room, it's not being able to move around that bothers me. You never know how much you gesture when you talk until it hurts to move." It was strange, he still felt their relationship was nebulous. Friends, yes, and friendly. But... more, perhaps? Was it possible that they could be? Or was he just fond of her, and it was all one-sided? He could never admit it to ask, surely. "I'm at least dimly aware that Anna doesn't trust me, and I don't blame her in the slightest. Am I permitted to move about the castle, though? I'll accept any restrictions, or a no, but I am curious. I never bother to check outside my door for guards, I just assume they're posted." Because at heart, he thought of himself still as a treasoner. It had been as deeply ingrained into him as the scars across his back.

"Oh, there aren't any guards," she stated, shaking her head. "You're free to leave your room if you desire, though Anna probably wouldn't be too thrilled if she caught you roaming around. Hmm. I think this whole corridor is probably safe though, I'm sure she doesn't come this way at all, just to avoid bumping into you. There are some places that are likely to always be unoccupied because they mostly go unused, like the music room and ballroom for example. I think the only area of the castle that I would really consider off limits is the upstairs level, where our bedrooms are, I think Anna would be rather upset if she saw you around there, she'd likely see it as an invasion of her personal space. As for the other parts of the castle, are pretty much open to you, if you wish to visit, all I say is go at your own risk and can only suggest that you proceed with caution."

Hans nodded thoughtfully. "I'm uncertain how to feel about that." He admitted. "Ah, but I got stabbed defending the kingdom. The Captain tells me I should give myself some credit for that. Though I am about as eager to run into Anna as she is to run into me. I'm quite good at not being found when I don't want to be. She won't hear from me if I can help it, let alone see me." He had quite enough interaction with Anna for one lifetime. No man scared him, but he would sooner fight pirates than deal with Anna calling him useless again.

"It didn't make sense to keep guards posted when you are no longer my prisoner," she expressed.

Hans considered that thought. "I suppose not." He said, but didn't seem to quite believe the idea. "I suppose it would look bad if the man training your guards needed a guard presence, himself. So... if I'm to live in Arendelle, if I'm truly to be a citizen here, should I save for a home here? I imagine I probably won't be asked to stay here when Anna is so upset with me. And I don't exactly have family money anymore in the Isles. But I don't mind the idea of having a humble home here. As long as the people of Arendelle don't feel like lynching me in the night, anyway. Thankfully I seem to be winning people over easily enough." Though he wasn't sure if that was truly a good thing.

Elsa didn't know how to answer that, she hadn't really thought of him leaving the castle. She opened her mouth to speak but remained silent for a little while longer.

"I-Uh, I...I really don't mind having you stay here in the castle myself,"she began in a soft-spoken tone. "but I know that's not really fair to Anna. She really only seemed alright with letting you stay while you heal." She admitted with a sigh. "You could probably stay at the barracks for a time," she suggested. "And if you wished to build yourself a home in town in the future you're welcome to do so."

"Hmm, building a home." Hans mused, seeming new to the idea. "I wouldn't have the faintest idea how, what an intriguing thought." He remarked, sounding more excited by the prospect than anything. "I may have to get a uniform if I'm to work with the guard staff. Wouldn't be my first, though the least likely, I'd wager. Perhaps when I'm fully ready to train them? I always was in favor of living alongside the men I work with." He didn't mind that any. But perhaps most importantly, she wanted him there near her. That was a sweet idea. "I might have to save a long while. Perhaps I'll find a place near the fjords someday. Near the ships and the sea. Near the castle." For her, not for anything else. The only reason he had to put his feet on dry land anymore was to visit her, really. He could have left, could have returned to sea life. But then what? Just be a midshipman? A sailor with no rank or renown? He could have, perhaps, joined Arendelle's navy, but why, if not to stay at her heels? "I suppose I have more options than I've had in a while. I'll have to think about life and consider them."

#Helsa #Iceburns #Hans x Elsa #Frozen #Fanfiction #Frozen Fanfiction #fanfic #Shattered Reflections

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dontdietwd · 4 years

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Day 69, part 1

Morning sickness hit me like a motherfucker from the moment I woke up. I was throwing up from the moment I left the tent, the sun only starting to pale the sky. I drank some water and laid down again, but was able to nap for just a few minutes when I had to do it all over again. Only when I was able to drink water without wasting it I left our tent area and approached the others. Carol was up and about for what looked like a while, because she was already hanging washed clothes on a line we had extended yesterday.

“Morning,” she said to me. “How are you feeling?”

“Uh… You saw that.”

“Heard you. How far along are you now?

“Thirteen, fourteen weeks by now, I guess,” I told her as I sat in a log near her.

“Oh, that’s about the end of your first trimester,” she smiled at me. “Morning sickness will be over very soon, you’ll see.”

“I hope so… There’s too much to do, can’t be getting sick all the time.”

“You need to eat something. Mr. Greene was saying yesterday that they’d give us some milk from their cows. You could use the calcium.”

I just nodded, the idea of eating a bowlful of milk with a very sugary cereal very appealing to me, too bad we didn’t have any very sugary cereal.

“Speaking of it, I had an idea,” Carol said after my pause. “That big kitchen of theirs got me thinking. I wouldn’t mind cooking in a real kitchen again. Maybe we’ll pitch in and cook diner for Hershel and his family tonight.”

“I wouldn’t mind having a real dinner either… Oh, a thick, warm homemade soup would be soooo nice right now.”

Carol smiled at me, “And there are the cravings.”

“Pfff, these days, to get cravings? I’m so fucked…”

“Hey, it will be fine. We’ll all do our best.”

“Thanks…” I said weakly. “I like the dinner idea. They’ve just lost someone, it’s just something people do, right? And they’re doing so much for us…”

“You mind extending the invitation?”

“Sure… Tonight, you think?”

“Yes, if they agree. I need to keep doing something… Keep my mind occupied.”

“I get it,” I got up from the log. “You do that and let us keep looking,” I stood near her. “I ain’t feeling well enough to go out there with the others today, but I’ll help’em organize the search. We ain’t giving up, and Daryl sure as hell ain’t giving up. You can count on that.”

Carol gave me a tight lipped, watery smile, “Thank you, Sam.”

Lori approached just then, as I was ready to leave, “I can’t believe I slept in,” she was saying.

“You must have needed it,” Carol answered, returning to her laundry.

“All the scare,” I said already taking a step to leave them. “You were exhausted, I bet. We all deserve some occasional rest.”

I did turn to go but Lori called me back, “Uh, Sam? Can I talk to you?”

She sounded a bit nervous and it didn’t feel like she had just woken up, so I knew it had to be something important.

“Sure. Can it wait a bit, though? I need to get today’s search going with the men, but I ain’t going with them, then we can talk.”

She nodded with a little smile that didn’t reach her eyes and it got me apprehensive. I thought it probably would have something to do with the talk I’d ha with her husband yesterday, about staying here or not. But I’d know later.

To the side of the tent area, a few of the man and Andrea were gathered around the same car again, waiting for something, so I marched over there.

“Morning all,” I got to them saying. Daryl was there and I forced myself not to smile too largely at him. He greeted me with a nod and then unfolded the map that was there on the hood of the car. We all stayed there for a while, looking at the map, defining groups and search areas.

“That mean you ain’t going?” Daryl asked me.

“Not a good day for me. Morning sickness came to bite me in the ass just when I thought it was gone. I’d be stalling you stopping to hurl every five minutes. Gotta go do just that in a moment.”

He looked worried at me for another long moment, but we didn’t keep talking because that boy who’d been around the farm with the Greene’s since we arrived, Jimmy, I recognized him as Beth’s boyfriend, approached saying he wanted to help. Great, something happens to him it’s two people on our account.

Shane arrived then with his attitude, shirt open showing pecks. Nice pecks like those in a guy like Shane did nothing for me though.

“Nothing about what you two found screams Sophia to me. Anyone could be holed up in that farmhouse.”

‘Anyone includes her, right?” Andrea rebated.

“Whoever slept in the cupboard was no bigger than yay-high,” Daryl sad gesturing the size of a small person.

“It was a tiny space,” I confirmed. “It’s good lead, and by now the only one we got.”

“Maybe we’ll pick up her trail again,” Rick agreed with us.

“No maybe ‘bout it,” Daryl said leaving no room for questions. “Imma borrow a horse, head to this ridge right here,” he said pointing an area at the map, “take a bird’s eye view of the whole grid. She’s up there, I’ll spot’er.”

“Good idea,” Theo said and I knew he was mocking. Seriously, mocking the plan of the one person in the group could actually find Sophia? “Maybe you’ll your chupacabra up there too.”

Oh, here we go. I knew one day this was going to be mentioned again. Dale explained to Rick’s question what Theo meant. Apparently on our first night as group, still at the road before the quarry, when a group of all of us women were chatting, the men had done the same and Daryl had told a story about one day when he was out hunting he’d seen something and was sure it’d been a chupacabra. When he told me that I didn’t disbelieve, I mean, I never believe in many things that were true to us all these days.

Jimmy laughed at it and became the recipient of Daryl’s annoyance, “What you braying at, jackass?”

“You believe in a blood-sucking dog?” Rick also didn’t have it.

“You believe in dead people walking around?” Daryl asked and Rick had no answer for that.

After that Jimmy wanted a gun, didn’t have it, the whole old story. He ended up being put in a team with Andrea and Theo, since they were the one who’d come back sooner to the farm because Theo wasn’t still fully recovered from all his blood loss. I put Rick and Shane together and Daryl was going alone. He didn’t need back-up.

I should have sent someone with him.

But he’d never agree anyway.

* * *

As I left the house, where I had gone to use the bathroom and ended up throwing up again, I found Glenn on the porch, looking out thoughtfully as he fingered the guitar Dale had found on the road. I was going to sit we him to chat a little, but Lori was at the tents looking pointedly at me. So I just smiled at Glenn and made my way to her. Lori, seeing me coming, walked away from the tents, going a bit further into the trees and I found her sitting on log, holding her hands together between her knees.

“What happened?” I asked noticing her nervousness.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Are you okay?” I asked as I sat by her side, facing her and touching her arm.

“I’m pregnant.”

Blank. Nothing came to my mind to say.

“You - what?” was what I was able to stutter out.

“I – I’m pregnant. Too.”

I just let my mouth hang open. Pregnant.

Fuck.

“Oh-kay…” I managed. “That’s uh…” Ok Sam, stop faking, Lori’s a grown woman. “Well, fuck.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, looking away. “Fuck.”

I blew air out, my cheeks ballooning up for a moment. “How can you be sure?”

“Glenn brought me a test from their pharmacy run yesterday. I asked him not to tell anybody.”

“Ok… Does Rick know?”

“Haven’t told him yet. I don’t know how he’ll react.”

“Well, Rick’s great with Carl, I don’t think he’ll have a problem with a second –”

“Sam,” she said simply and I looked at her. She was giving me a meaningful look that I took a moment to understand.

Oh.

Rick had only been back with her, from his coma, for like a week. It was a real, very, very long week where so much ad happened, that it felt like it’d been months, but that was it. Seven, eight days.

Baby wasn’t Rick’s.

“Oh.”

“I did the math; you did the math. He will too.”

We were silent for another moment, my mind going overdrive again. Two pregnant women. We needed a plan. I needed to make decisions, set up a plan, there was so much to be done in the months before our babies were born.

“Only six months to go before mine,” I said. “Eight or so for yours, you think?”

“Yes, sounds about right. It’s not a lot of time,” and she lowered her elbows to her knees, hiding her face with a huff. “I can’t believe this happened…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” I told her recognizing the first desperation signs I’d had myself. I didn’t want her to go through them as well. “You ain’t gonna be alone in this,” I placed a hand on her shoulders making her look sideways at me, her head resting in a hand. “None of us are. It’s why we have a group for, so nothing gotta be faced alone. Especially this.”

She kept looking at me for a moment, shaking her head and then gave me a little smile, “I find it incredible how positive you manage to keep eve when facing all of this.”

“Being negative won’t make me survive. Desperation won’t find my baby a safe place to be born and grow up in.”

“You’re right. I know that, but right now, I’m just – I…” she huffed again.

“I know how you feel. Been there not long ago.”

"Can I ask you something?”

"Sure."

"Your baby... Is it really not Daryl's?"

I laughed, looking away from Lori no my own boots. "No... It really ain't his."

"Well... He sure acts like it is, always protective over you… Setting your tent with his away from the others," and then she looked at me sideways, lowering her head to find my eyes and give me another meaningful look, “Giving you foot rubs.”

“Oh, uh…” I paused to laugh nervously. Was I blushing? I think I was blushing, dammit. “You saw that.”

“Yeah, I did see that… I was going to take my test far from the others and there you were, lying down getting your feet rubbed!”, she was smiling widely now.

"Yeah, it's just... That's just Daryl. He's really protective. You see how he's with Sophia."

"Hm, true. But there's something there, isn't it?"

"Me and Daryl?" I asked just to stall the answer, because it her question had been really obvious.

"Yes, he doesn't talk much with anyone else, except maybe Carol now with the Sophia thing – but even then not as much as with you. You two are always around each other."

"We are. Yeah, but… It's not like that... Or at least... I mean, we grew up nearby, never had much contact but we were always seeing each other around, but what got us close was... Well... Something happened right before the outbreak."

"Between you two?"

I laughed, "Not that! I mean... Well, two guys Daryl and Merle knew broke into my house to attack me."

Her expression changed immediately "Oh, God."

"Yeah, and I fought them, and then Daryl and Merle came into my house to help me, they'd heard the fight. They protected me just because I'd been their neighbor, not even a friend. And that night was the first time we saw people turning into walkers, you know, so I think it brought us close together."

"How did they turn? Were they bit?"

"Well, if it's by being bit that people turn, the first guy probably had been bitten before, I don't know. Because after he died there in my living room, he got up and bit his friend."

Lori shook her head, her eyes wide, "I have so many questions! You... killed the guy?"

Oh, the sound of judgement. I looked at Lori dead in the eye and told her with no hesitation in my voice, "He was on top of me trying to lower my pants with his other hand around my neck," I paused. "What'd you think I should've done?"

Lori swallowed hard in silence and nodded after a moment. "I see... You're right. As hard as it is to admit, I'd probably do the same."

"A sense of self-preservation kicks in, Lori. I didn't even plan to push that knife into his neck. All I know is that I was not raped that night."

Lori nodded again and looked down, her understanding it hitting her, "So he then turned."

"Yeah, it was the first one we saw. He just got up, attacked his friend and then he turned too, and it was all a mess."

"I see... Those things have the power to bring people together or just do them apart for good."

"Well, it did this group together. And we'll stay like this," I reached for Lori's hand. "You and I are bringing new people to the world, people who will help us still have a future even with all that happening. Seems the world hasn’t ended after all!"

Lori smiled tightly at me and squeezed my hand back, shaking it a bit, "Thank you, Sam."

"Nothing to thank me for."

"Yeah, I do. We all do and you know it."

I let go of her hand looking away, "Oh, come on..."

"At least let me thank you for being so supportive to me?" I looked again at Lori, “And even more for not judging me.”

I was genuinely confused about the last bit and asked “Why would I judge you?”

“Well, for… Being pregnant when my - my husband wasn’t around.”

Oh, that.

“Lori, listen to me. You won’t let anybody judge you for that. I’ll easily defy anyone who does. I know you and I haven’t agreed on everything since the beginning, but it don’t matter. I’ll be on your side on this one. You thought your husband was dead, you were scared, alone, and you found comfort in someone you trusted. There is nothing wrong with that. I personally don’t like Shane a lot and everybody knows that, but he was the person you trusted the most then, who had your back, who was taking care of you and your son. And dammit, you were a fuckin’ widow for all you knew, so you didn’t cheat on anyone. Please, don’t feel guilty about this, it ain’t your fault.”

She had tears in her eyes as I spoke and her hand was gripping mine strongly. She said “Oh, dammit, come here,” before pulling me to a tight hug.

* * *

Andrea, Theo and Jimmy were back. Rick and Shane were back – and man, you could cut the air around them with a knife. Something bad had happened, they were throwing each other dirty looks and staying apart. I got really worried for Lori, because it had seemed to me Shane might have told Rick about their short lived relationship, but when I saw Rick talking normally to Lori I knew it had to be something else.

So they were all back from the search, with no news whatsoever… All, except for Daryl. He’d been gone for hours now and we were in the late afternoon already, the sun approaching the horizon. He had to be back by now.

“One of my horses is missing,” was what Mr. Greene used to open the conversation as he approached me by the stalls.

“Missing?”

“Yes, unaccounted for. Do you happen to know anything about this?”

“Yes, I actually do, but I thought you knew. Daryl went out to search on a horse today, I thought he’d spoken to you first.”

“He did not,” he said firmly.

Damn, Daryl. “I’m sorry about that, I’ll talk to him.”

“And Jimmy? You sent him out with your group today. Did he also give you the impression of my consent?”

“He did. I asked him if you were fine with it and he said you allowed it and only had to speak to me.”

“Jimmy is seventeen.”

“Seventeen-year-old people can already understand the concept of a lie, Mr. Greene.”

“He’s a minor, and he’s not my kin, but he’s my responsibility. These things need to be cleared with me.”

I nodded, quiet. He was right. I didn’t think Jimmy shouldn’t be held accountable for his lie – goddammit what if something had happened to him out there? But Mr. Greene was right.

“I’ll talk to my group,” I told him. “I’ll watch over them and any decision we have to make, I’ll run by you first.

“I’d appreciate that, Sam. You control your people, I control mine.”

Control my people... You’d think with a bunch of adults who had whole lives before, responsibilities, you could count on their own common sense, but he was right. They needed leadership or they’d just keep sending people down wells.

The women were inside the house preparing dinner, all except for me and Andrea. I was pacing, trying to find something to do, considering going to cook with them inside, but I couldn’t. I was worried when I shouldn’t be. I mean, it was Daryl, the was tough, be knew what he was doing, he was fine and would be hell of annoyed if he knew I’d been worrying that much.

And then Andrea distracted me from the worries when she climbed up the RV and took Dale’s rifle and stood in watch. I didn’t know Shane had placed her in watch… He’d specifically gotten approval for a gun on site if it was for Dale to lookout, and now there she was, all pose.

“What’s with the Annie Oakley routine?” Dale beat me to ask, looking up at her.

“I don’t wanna wash clothes anymore, Dale,” she said looking down at him and then saw me there too, “I wanna help keep the camp safe”, and then used a defying tone, passive-aggressiveness all over her voice, “is that alright with you?”

“I ain’t the one you should run this by, Andrea, you know that. Ask Shane before just picking up a gun and taking over. You didn’t even get much training anyway!”

She rolled her eyes, not even bothering to hide how annoyed she was by my leading. God, I really, really disliked her. I turned around to go talk to Shane, because she hadn’t moved a muscle to go do as I said, when she called out.

“Walker! Walker!”

I turned to look at where she was pointing, squinting and making a shade over my eyes, and there it was, a walker had just left the trees and was walking towards the camp. Rick, Shane, Theo, everyone who was around came running, ready.

“It’s just one,” I informed them as they approached me.

“I bet I can nail it from here!” Andrea said picking up the rifle she’d let go to use the binoculars.

“No!” I shouted. “Put the gun down, Andrea, shooting is our last resource, and we’ve all told you many times.”

“We’ll handle this,” Shane told us all and he, Rick and Theo took off in the walker’s direction. Three men for one walker? They had it. I didn’t even bother to go there. I really wasn’t worried.

“Andrea, don’t!” I heard Dale say and looked up at the RV to see Andrea lying down, taking aim.

“Back off, Dale,” she told him and armed the rifle.

“The fuck you think you’re doing, Andrea?” I asked up at her. “They have it!” she didn’t move. “Andrea, I’m talking to you! Do not shoot! The noise will attract more walkers and you’ll just waste a bullet!”

The sound of her shot deafened me for a second, made Dale and I flinch. I wasn’t expecting t, I really thought she was going to stop and not shoot, all angry and whatever, but she just fucking did it anyway. She laughed in joy when she hit the target, the walker falling to the ground.

“God fuckin’ dammit, Andrea!” I shouted, but mine were not the only shouts. Rick was yelling “No!” from a distance and Andrea was getting up on the RV, looking worried.

“Andrea, please don’t tell me you hit one of them!”

“Oh no,” she was saying. “No, no, no!”

She’d hit someone. I was sure she had and my stomach went cold and my right wrist and my palm ached like a bitch. I took off in their direction, the sun blinding me, Andrea and Dale quickly catching up. This time I wouldn’t hold myself, I’d bitch slap her in the face.

But everything around me froze and went silent from a second to another. I stopped, they kept on running. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe. It was like I was underwater with no air and the sounds muffled. It was Daryl, being carried by Rick and Shane, limp, lifeless, bloodied from head to toe. I heard nothing, Rick said something to me as they passed but I didn’t register, just turned to follow them with my eyes as they took Daryl to the house.

Someone dragged me away, I think it was Glenn, gently making me walk because I was still frozen. They had entered the house minutes ago now and I was still there. The only things that unfroze me was the sight of Andrea and Dale sitting on the porch steps.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Dale was telling her. “At some point, we’ve all wanted to shoot Daryl.”

I felt my blood boil, saw red as people say, as I marched up to them. They saw me arriving and got startled. I stopped in front of Andrea and leaned town to level with her.

“You listen to me, Andrea,” she had her eyes wide, frozen looking at me. “Daryl dies; I will kill you. I. Will. Fucking. Kill you,” I paused for effect. “This conversation ain’t over, do you hear me?” and I turned to look at Dale. “Have we all wanted to shoot Daryl? For what? Hunting and bringing back meat to feed us all this time? Teaching everyone how to deal with walkers? Getting himself in danger to look for Sophia?” I straightened my back and looked down from one to another, they stunned faces thrilling me. “Daryl’s more useful to this group than the two of you combined.”

At that I stormed up the steps between them and entered the house. The women in the kitchen were still cooking but looked startled at me across the dining room, looking worried, especially Carol. I said nothing and ran up the stairs. I needed to see him, know if he was alive, if Andrea’s aim had been that good and what the hell had all that blood on his shirt and on his chin been. Was he bit? I was praying for a God I wasn’t even sure I believed in that he wasn’t bit.

Rick was outside a closed door and saw me approach, and took quick steps to meet me halfway.

“He’s fine,” was what he immediately said at my probably desperate expression. I didn’t really register it well, though. “It was just a graze; it didn’t really hit him. Sam?” he said to make me look at him because I’d been trying to look at the closed door over his shoulder. I looked up at him, “Daryl’s fine. He’s not dead, not bit. He’s hurt, but he’ll be fine.”

Oh. Good. Great, good to hear. But I had to see him.

“Where’s he now?”

“Hershel’s insisted he got cleaned up before stitching him. Was not an easy argument,” he attempted a joke to lighten the mood. “When he’s washed up he’ll get stitches to his side and his head, and he’ll be as good as new.”

I must have visibly relaxed because Rick let go of my arms, also looking calmer. I hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding me by the upper arms.

“Ok,” I said. “Good. Ok, that – that’s good.”

I stayed on the hallway with Rick, quiet for a while, still pacing from one end of it to another for a while until the bathroom door was opened. Hershel came out helping Daryl walk. He was wearing clean pants and no shirt and was guided across the hall to a bedroom. I don’t think he saw me there, Rick entered right after them and I got to the door, hovering there for a moment. Hershel motioned Daryl to lay on his side so he wouldn’t press on the wound, and put a clean cloth in his hand telling him to pressure the head wound. But he was fine. Breathing, talking, complaining, saying something about a doll. Shane passed by me then, all but ignoring my presence, carrying the same rolled up map we’d been using to plan the searches, and he and Rick started asking Daryl questions about the location, where he’d found it, and Daryl explained it all as if there was no needle being poked into his skin as he talked. Lori came then, standing by me wordlessly. Hershel said something about the missing horse as well, but I didn’t care, not at all. As he left the room, he stopped to look at me at the threshold and said, “it’s a wonder you people have survived this long.”

I said nothing but noticed Daryl looked at me then, I think only now noticing I’d been there. I gave room for Hershel to leave and took a step into the room as Shane got up from his chair and left the room. Lori followed him to say something, both of them stopping on the same hallway but a bit ahead of he with hushed voices. Rick was still in there, I could hear him and Daryl still talking. I had no idea what to do. I wanted to go in and tell Rick to get the hell out so I could be alone with Daryl, but at the same time, what would I say? If I said anything right now I’d demonstrate all I was feeling, how terrified I was of losing him, how much it had hurt to think he was dead, how lost I’d be without him, that I didn’t want to do any of this surviving thing if he wasn’t there by my side.

I turned to leave, overwhelmed with my own conclusion.

I was in love with Daryl.

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invaderdoom78 · 4 years

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Fright Twilight (the dumbest title) part 5

Part 5 of @julielilac gif set

So I found out that Chris Sarandon and I are from the same state and in honor of that I figured I’d write him into this with a what if scenario where og Peter Vincent didn’t have his mirror prop on him when Amy and Evil Ed asked him to help convince Charlie that Jerry wasn’t a vampire and never saw that he had no reflection, therefore the two never teamed up. On a side note how cool would it have been if his camo character had been turned into a vampire when Colin Ferrall bit him and when the climax happen he’s mixed in with everyone else remake Jerry turned.

The next day Charley came back to Peters home with a folder of all of the information he’d managed to gather on the Iowa vampire, which was of the police reports on the bodies of men and women along with a report some kid had made stating that his neighbor was the one responsible for their deaths, claiming he was a vampire, and the missing person reports for the kid that made the vampire report, his girlfriend, and best friend. Stepping into the house Charley saw that the inside was even more of a mess than it had been the previous day, nothing, aside from the glass cup that had been thrown against the wall, was broken, but some things had been knocked over, though it didn’t look like it was because of a fight the clutter seemed to deliberate. “Peter?” Charley called out into the house, looking down at the broken glass “Yeah, yeah” Peter said, walking out of the bathroom, looking like he hadn’t slept at all last night, eyes red, puffy, and dead inside, and even though he reeked of alcohol he was holding himself like he was completely sober “I’m here” “There’s broken glass on your floor” Charley said, pointing at the glass “I dropped it last night” Peter said, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger “Anything else happen?” “Not really” Peter said, noticing the folder Charley was holding “what’s that?” “Stuff about the Iowa vampire” Charley said holding out the folder “who’s name is also apparently Jerry” “Huh” Peter said, taking the file along with a seat on his couch so he could flip through the papers “well, Jerry is a very inconspicuous name” “I guess” Charley said, taking a seat as well “I did gave my friend Ed a pretty hard time when he told me who was responsible for killing Amy” “Yeah” Peter said, looking over the missing persons reports “I never would’ve guessed that a Jerry was the one that killed my parents” “Is this everything you could find about this guy?” Peter asked setting down the folder “did you look up his address and see if it’s still occupied?” “Yes and no” Charley said, watching Peter get up so he could grab his laptop “Let’s see what we can find out” Peter said booting it up “what’s the address?” pulling the folder closer he flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for, typing it into the search engine “looks like the house was abandoned a few months after his neighbor disappeared so Iowa’s a dead end” “Maybe you’ll find something with one of the missing person names?” Charley suggested “Already on it” Peter said, picking one of the three names on the missing persons report, getting a hit on one of them for a house that was recently brought up in West Virginia “there’s no picture, but the first and last names for Edward match so I’d say it’s worth looking into” he jotted down the houses address and state A few days later they found themselves driving across the Ohio River, making their way up and down a bunch of hills and around about a bajillion turns until they came upon the sparsely populated and forested area that the house had been built on. “Who ever paved these fuckin’ roads must’ve been drunk off their asses” Peter grumbled to himself as he pulled onto a road that was surrounded by trees The houses along the road were sparse and far between, sizable enough to easily fit at least four vampires along with their victims. Close to the end of the street was a house that, from the outside, looked as if it might have been abandoned, especially considering that some of the windows were deliberately blacked out, but there was a jeep parked out front and it looked like the grass had recently been mowed and raked of fallen leaves. “Are you sure you’re alright, Peter?” Charley asked as he noticed the dead look behind Peters eyes was still very present “Yeah” Peter said, parking the car a ways away from the house, finding a spot where they could hide it from view of the road “I’m fine” “Are you sure?” Charley asked, glancing over at Peter “‘cause you seem pretty distracted” “I said I was fine!” Peter snapped “Alright, jeez” “Just get the shit out of the trunk” Peter said, stepping out of the car and slamming the door shut “Oh boy” Charley sighed exasperatedly, getting out of the car as well Opening the trunk Charley grabbed both of their duffle bags tossing Peters to the older man as he pulled his crossbow out from his and loaded an arrow into it. “So how do you want to do this?” Charley asked “I’ll take the basement and you see if you can get to the second floor if not, then focus on the first and we can converge to search the second together” Peter said, loading up his shotgun “Alright” Charley said, disappearing into the tree so he could sneak his way around to the back of the house With his shotgun now loaded and Charley out of sight Peter pulled his flask out of his duffle bag and brought it up to his lips, only putting it away once it was almost empty. Cocking the gun he also made his way into the trees as well, though he kept closer to the road than Charley was. When he got to the house he quickly spotted a storm door along its side that he could use to get into the basement. Thankfully it didn’t have a lock on it, so getting in would be no problem. Walking down the steps Peter saw that the basement was full of the type of clutter you get when you’ve just moved into a new house, but despite that he could still see movement a couple feet away. Slipping away from the steps he crept towards the movement and spotted Jane sitting on the ground, scooting away from another vampire that was stabbing at the air in front of her with a large kitchen knife. Despite the fact that the knife shouldn’t have been able to do any actual damage to her, she was still holding up her arms to cover her head because watching a knife coming at your face was not a fun thing to watch. Taking aim Peter shot at the spiky haired vampire, hitting him in the back of the shoulder, forcing him to scurry away and take shelter in the clutter of the basement. Running up to Jane Peter saw the cut on her forearm, deep enough that it reached straight down to the bone, an almost black colored blood seeping out of the wound. “Shit” Peter said, getting on his knees so he could get a better look at the cut “he must’ve soaked the blade in holy water, you aren’t healing yourself. Fuck!” straightening his spine, he quickly pulled off his trench coat and ripped off one of the sleeves, using it to dress the wound, hoping that the pressure would stop the blood flow “where’s your brother?” “I’m not sure” Jane started, looking away embarrassed “I fell through a weak spot in the floor and we got separated” “Alright” Peter said, putting his trench coat back on “come on let’s go find him” Taking hold of Jane's hand, which she surprisingly had no objection to, they ventured further into the basement carefully scanning over the coffins and other clutter that littered the room keeping a careful look out for anything. When they got to the stairs, Peter was about to take the lead up them when a vampire with light brown hair jumped out at them from the shadows and pouncing on him, knocking the hunter to the ground. “Fuck!” Peter grunted, pushing his shotgun up against her neck to keep the vampire's elongated mouth and fangs away from his neck “get off of me, you dumb bitch” he used the butt of the shotgun to knock her off of and away from him Unfortunately for Peter, her recovery time was much quicker than his and she was back up on her feet before he could even sit up. Thankfully for him, though, Jane had decided to give him a hand and used her ability on the other vampire as she collapsed back onto the ground and the agony of being lit aflame, minus the actual fire, spread across her nervous system. Finally getting to his feet Peter grabbed one of the stakes on his belt, about to stab it into the vampire's heart when someone knocked over a stack of wooden boxes onto the vampire hunter and Jane, giving the other vampire a chance to escape. “Shit” Peter said, kicking the boxes away “are you alright?” “Yeah” Jane said also kicking away some boxes “Here” Peter said, handing Jane a revolver he had strapped to his ankle as a backup for encase his shot gun failed “it won’t do much but you can at least stall them for a bit. Maybe you can even blind them if you get some lucky enough shots off” “How do I use it?” Jane asked, looking over the weapon “First, grip it with both hands” Peter said taking both of her hands and placing them in the proper positions “keep your arms straight out and then cock it by pulling this back with your thumb” he pointed at the hammer “look down the barrel and through the site and then pull the trigger once you’ve found your target” “Got it” Jane said, looking genuinely excited about the prospect of shooting someone Taking Janes hand again Peter brought her up to the main floor of the house just as Charley ran down from the second, stopping in his tracks when he spotted Jane; who was peeking out from behind Peter, looking at him with such unadulterated murderous hate that Charley found himself more than terrifying, especially considering it was coming from this tiny twelve year old girl. “Have you found anyone?” Peter asked Charley “I think there’re, like, walkways behind the walls” Charley said, not taking his eyes off Jane “‘cause I’ve been hearing people walking around and talking, but I haven’t seen anyone” “Well, crawl spaces behind the wall would explain how those two in the basement got away so quickly” Peter said as Alec rounded a corner “Jane!” Alec exclaimed, running over to his sister “have you seen Dimitri or Felix?” “No. You got separated too?” Jane asked “Kinda, we ran into this guy and they stayed behind to take care of him, but I don’t know how well that fight will go since he’s a ghoul or something else like that” Alec shrugged “What a nice surprise” a vampire that was older than the ones in the basement said, appearing at the top of the steps “I wasn’t expecting visitors” he noticed the Volturi symbols the twins wore around their necks and seemed to hesitate “to what do I owe this honor”“We had received a copy of the report your neighbor had made about you back in Iowa” Jane said “Ah, yes. Amy. Edward come out” Jerry called out into the house “we have guests” the two vampires from the basement stepped out of the living area “what would you like to know?”“What have you done about your neighbor?”“Well, I had given Charley the opportunity to forget about me, but he refused, so when he got his friends involved I had no choice but to turn all three of them” “And what happened to Charlie?” Jane asked“He seemed to have a difficult time adjusting to being one of our kind so my roommate Billy had to dispose of him, and who are these two?” he motioned to Peter and Charlie, taking careful stock of their weapons “They are not associated with us” Jane said There was a tense moment that seemed to last for hours and it was only broken when Ed grabbed an empty cardboard box and chucked it at Peters head. Then all hell seemed to break loose as he began his wolf transformation. Returning Peters favor from earlier Jane held up the revolver and used it to shoot out the large stained glass window at the top of the stairway, creating enough holes for the entire pane to fall away so the sun’s light could filter through. Alec decided to lend a hand as well using his ability on Ed, the numbing ability mixed with the mid-transformation shape shift left him disoriented and no longer aware of his surroundings as he thrashed his way directly into the beam of sunlight. Amy was taken out almost as easily by Charley with a lucky shot directly through her heart with a holy water tipped arrow as she attempted to tackle him to the ground, leaving Jerry as the only one left. Wanting to get away from the sun as quickly as possible Jerry turned into a monstrous looking bat and tried to fly away, only to have Charley jump up and tackle him to the ground. However, the bat was able to quickly overpower him and roll them so that he was on top, biting at the young hunter so he could get away. Unfortunately, he only had enough time to block the attack with his arms. “Ow!” Charley exclaimed, ripping his arm out of Jerrys bat mouth “the fucker bit me!” Grabbing one of the antique lamps Peter whacked bat Jerry in the side of the head with it, knocking him back far enough for his face to be forced into the beams of sunlight. Letting out an inhuman shriek Jerry began to thrash violently until he was able to get away from the hunters, as Charley had grabbed hold of his neck to keep him in place, and make his escape for the basement. Following the vampire down a floor and over to the only closed casket Charley grabbed a hammer and used it to smash out every window he could find down there to allow the afternoon sun to filter in as Peter got to work figuring out how to break the lock on the coffin. Having lost patience with his attempt at picking the lock Peter grab a crowbar and jammed it into the crack of the caskets opening, using the weight of his body as he pushed down on the bar. Fortunately, this was enough to break the lock and have the top swing open as Peter collapsed to the ground. Even though the basement was full of natural light the coffin had been strategically placed so that even with all of the light none of it was touching him. Glancing at each other both Peter and Charley ran to the back of the casket and shoved it over so Jerry tumbled out of it, directly into the sun, his body bursting into green flames. Running back up to the main floor Peter grabbed Jane and Alec and got them out of the building as the green flames of Jerry’s burning corpse began spreading to the rest of the house.

#Peter Vincent #David Tennant #charlie brewster #jane volturi #alec volturi #jerry dandridge #amy #evil ed #twilight #Fright Night 2011 #fright night 1985 #vampire x vampire hunter au #vinturi #ineffable husbands au

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toxykmystic · 5 years

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Day 5 - @takaritsuweek

Work

By the time Monday rolled around Ristu was rubbing at his back trying to ease the ache. It had been a long time since he’d suffered with this particular problem but… he had such a good time with Takano-san when they went on their date that he’d actually been the one to bumble through a sort of seduction of the elder male. It had consisted mostly of his blushing so hard he was sure he’d actually give himself blisters and a sort of feebly motioning towards his bedroom while unable to look at the other in the eye and stammering some form of query that somewhat sounded like ‘You wanna?’ while he thought for sure that he was dying from the embarrassment on the inside. By that point he’ truly been a nervous wreck when Takano had taken pity on him and finally decided to help him out and take control of the situation.

Takano had been exceedingly careful and tender with him, taking things so slowly that it wasn’t as frightening, ‘getting back in the saddle’ so to speak. So after a nearly month long dry spell they’d started to work past that hurdle in what Ritsu was finally starting to consider a real relationship. Not that he’d admitted how he felt or what he thought about their ‘status’ yet, there were still a couple things that were wearing heavily on the young man’s mind.

Firstly, he had a serious issue with dating a person that was also his boss. He’d tried to explain this to Takano several times but even a hint of the discussion seemed to upset the man. They needed to really sit down and talk about it, he had to make Takano understand that while he really did love his position as an editor for Emerald, he was starting to realize that he maybe, sort of, possibly loved Takano a bit more than that. He just didn’t want the headache of anyone thinking that he was getting special treatment in his job because of what was going on between him and his boss. While he knew that Takano could be professional, the editor knew that people outside the department may not be so understanding and would most likely start spreading rumors about pair of them and that could be a risk to both of their jobs. Takano didn’t seem to think it was an issue, but to Ritsu it was a very big deal and it had kept him awake many nights with worry.

That was one issue, the other was that he wanted to at least raise one of his authors to a higher position in the rankings. He’d been dealing with the disappointment and self doubt about his own abilities. It hadn’t ever been this bad when he was working with literature, at least there he had better than average idea of what was good and what would sell. With Shoujo manga, it wasn’t so easy for him. Even with nearly a year’s experience he still felt as if he were running blind half the time. That’s why every month he waited anxiously for the rankings to be released. Gnawing on his bottom lip he took a peek towards the entrance to their department, the rankings would be here any minute he was sure of it. With these thoughts racing through his mind he was nearly startled out of his chair by the booming voice of his boss.

“Stop daydreaming Onodera! If you don’t have enough work to keep that brain of yours occupied I have plenty of extra assignments that should keep you busy!”

Snapping a glare at Takano-san, he didn’t even deign to give that threat a reply, well not too loudly, “I’m not the one that falls behind every month with my authors Mr. Big Shot Boss.” grumbling under his breath but Kisa-san heard him and started to snicker and snort.

“Oi! What was that?!” Takano glared from his end of the room.

Ritsu smiled sweetly at him in a totally fake manner that was more likely to convey annoyance than even the slightest hint of joy, “Nothing Takano-san, just going over this month’s coordination schedule and oh, what’s this?!” he lifted up his notes, “it seems that I haven’t heard back from you about the progress of Ichinose-sensei’s manuscript? Has she gotten back to you yet or has she suddenly gone on another trip to the other side of Japan?” he was still smiling in that sacarin way as Takano looked as if he was about chuck a heavy object at him, when one of the girls from sales walked in with the announcement, “This month’s tallies are in…” she’d made a slight squeaking noise as Ritsu was on her and snatching the paper, “Thanks!” a true smile on his lips this time as he turned back to the others on his team.

The room went silent as Ritsu stood there, staring down at the paper with emerald eyes that got wider and wider. Was this right? Could it be right?! He started to sputter a ‘T’ sound over and over while his brain stalled at last month’s rankings. Hands shaking as he read over the names again and again.

1. Saitou

2. Yoshikawa

3. Ichinose

4. Mutou

5. Yamada

The list went on but he was just staring in shock at the number one position, still stuttering that ‘T’ sound before he suddenly gave a loud whoop and glomped on to Kisa in utter joy, spinning across the floor with the youthful looking editor that had come to him to try to snap him out of it. Kisa squealed in shock as Takano started to shout for Onodera calm down and put Kisa down while he was at it.

Ritsu didn’t care, hugging on to Kisa and jumping up and down, thoroughly rattling the older man’s bones, “She did it! She did it! YES!” releasing a dizzy Kisa that promptly plopped down on his hind end. Ritsu fist pumped and then thrust the results under Takano’s bespeckled nose. As soon as the elder took it Ritsu let go and started to wiggle dance his way through his co-workers in his own happy celebration. Picking up a phone and dialing his top rated mangaka and bouncing on the balls of his feet while it rang, “Hello, Saitou-sensei? You gloriously brilliant lady! Guess what? You ranked first this month!” there was a piercing shriek of excitement on the other side of the line as he jerked the phone away from his ear and gave a laugh, ‘are you serious?!’ could be heard from the excited young woman, Ritsu answered her with a laugh, “of course I am, all that build up was worth it, you did it! Congratulations Sensei! Good Job!” he spoke with her for a few more minutes as the area seemed to calm down after the initial shock of seeing Onodera Ritsu in a state of pure joy. He was spinning about in his chair, much like Kisa did whenever the mood struck him. Some weren’t sure whether or not to be afraid to be honest, usually the guy was such a growly grump that it was unheard of to see him in such a mood.

Sighing happily as he got off the phone and finally seemed to notice that he was the center of attention, not only in his own department but in the neighboring Sapphire as well. The girls looked at him with stars in their eyes as he beamed his devastating smile at them before he turned it on the guys in his own area, Kisa leaned back a bit as he was hit by a brilliance that blinded nearly as bad as Kou’s. “Drinks are sooooo on me tonight!.” Okay, that got most of the team on his side, finally turning that smile on Takano who was looking at him with wide eyes, it would be nice if the guy said something in congratulations to him.

“Don’t get so full of yourself Onodera, it’s just one month’s results.” though he did have a slight smile on his face, barely there but Ritsu noticed it.

“Nope! Not even you can bring me down today Demon! Ah, I’m going to get a coffee, anyone want something from the break room?” he got a chorus of no’s and of course a yes from Kisa that wanted his red bean drink. “Kay, be back in a bit guys!” he left the room and heard Kisa say something about the likelihood of a blizzard in Tokyo. Ritsu couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face but did give a yelp as he was drug into the men’s room as he was passing it.

Feeling himself spun about and crushed to a solid chest that was far too familiar, hearing that deep voice rumbling into his soft hair, “So proud of you Ritsu, good job.”

Ritsu felt his cheeks heat up to the tips of his ears at the praise, “It was mostly sensei,” though he had done all the corrections and suggestions for this installment so he did indeed feel rather proud of himself and could feel the glow in his chest at the praise that he’d gotten from the hard to please Demon Editor-in-Chief, “but… thank you. It means a lot…” he tilted his head up and rose up to the tips of his toes, Takano meeting him halfway in a kiss.

Suddenly the door to the men’s room burst open and there was Isaka-san in all his showman’s glory, “No office romance!” God, he loved doing this to his victi…. Erm, employees. Catching them in various degrees of compromising positions. This one was actually rather mild and sweet, ah, how boring. That was until Ritsu shrieked like a little girl and fainted dead away in Takano’s arms at the sight of the company President standing in the doorway. “Uwah! That boy is far too high strung!” the President chuckled darkly as Takano-san clung to Ritsu and looked with murderous intent at his own boss that sauntered up to the sink to fill his palms with cold water and dumped the contents of his cupped hands straight onto Onodera’s face.

With a wild gasp he came to, clutching to Takano-san and blathering, “It’s not what you think!!” to which Isaka just chuckled and shook his head, “Suuuure it’s not Nanahikari.” whistling as he left the room, leaving Takano to deal with the panicking young man.

#takaristuweek 2019 #ritsu onodera #masamune takano #SiH #takano x onodera #fan fiction

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