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house-of-no-regrets · 3 years

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No Regrets [in the wee hours]

Took a bit longer than expected, but I’ve finished the next little story! Hopefully I’ll be able to keep a decent pace on these. No overarching plot, just little stories in the same universe with the same characters. Warning for ~*murder*~ in this one!

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I've been all-too-easy to wake up since I was a child; I'd often needed to go from dead asleep to functional, if groggy, as soon as I heard my father demanding action or attention. While I no longer need that reaction time, the old man long since locked up to rot, my brain is set in its ways and very convinced that I need to be able to bolt out of bed and fight God if a dust bunny moves too quickly in my vicinity.

Which is how I found myself waking up in the middle of the night, the sudden shift in the atmosphere bringing on consciousness with all the subtlety of a foghorn.

My room was silent, still, but I knew without opening my eyes that there was a spirit somewhere, and I didn't even give them a chance to speak before I pointed at the sign posted on my wall, barely shifting from my comfortable snuggle in my blanket and not even opening my eyes. Yes, this happens more often than I care to admit. No, I do not enjoy it. At all.

"Resurrection hours are noon to eight. I'm still alive and still need sleep to function."

There was silence, but the presence didn't leave, so I groaned and raised my head, finally opening my eyes to see the translucent, vaguely glowing, and unfortunately blurry spirit at the foot of my bed.

It did finally speak in a bewildered voice.

"Um, I'm being murdered."

Ah, fuck.

I grabbed my glasses from the bedside table and put them on. The spirit at the foot of my bed was tallish -- I've always been bad at estimating height, maybe half a foot shorter than Yvette? Five-nine... ish? -- and seemed to be in his twenties. There was a considerable dark stain on his chest and belly; likely blood, and the cause of his death. The newly-dead tend to show things like that, as they haven't had the time to get used to modifying their form.

I really hate it when brand new ones find me. I'm not sure how it started, but it seems like more and more often, now, the dead are drawn to No Regrets before they even realize they're dead, at least if they're the type to need my help. Wish I wasn't the one who had to break it to him. I'm not great with people.

"Sorry, bro, but I'm afraid they succeeded. Where was it? I'll get the police over there."

"Uhh... my house. I think. It's a little..."

I sighed. Right.

"You're probably a little out of it still... fresh dead usually are. C'mon, I'll take you around until things look familiar."

Climbing out of bed, I headed over to grab my hoodie from the back of the chair. I learned the hard way that sleeping is not a tits out sort of occasion when you're liable to get the dead dropping in at all hours of the night, so I sleep in pajama pants and a tank top. Little too chilly for tank tops outside, though. I shoved my phone in my hoodie and my feet into loafers, then started heading out of my room and down the hall.

"You remember your name?" I asked, trying to make conversation and learn what I could.

"Uh, Davis. Craig? Craig Davis."

"Well, Craig Davis, I'm sorry to hear about your passing. You're gonna need to possess me for this little adventure, by the way, but I'll walk you through it once we're outside."

"I- what?"

Considering how often I find myself lost in normal conversations, dealing with confused new spirits is especially difficult. Still shaking off my body's angry demands for More Sleep was not helping matters in the slightest, either.

"Possession. I'll explain it in just a minute." I rubbed an eye and yawned as I stopped in the foyer to pull a set of keys off one of the hooks on the wall.

Usually, I've got a driver. Not for vanity reasons, but after three or four near-misses caused by Sudden Spirits appearing in the car with me, I elected to hire someone to drive me into and around town as needed. But it was Fuck-This-Shit O'Clock in the morning, and Graves deserved their rest. The dead don't need to sleep, but they can if they so choose -- and it does, after all, conserve energy. The same goes for Yvette and Ashby; it was too early in the morning for most people to be out and searching for a necromancer to kill, so I wasn't gonna disturb them. I could handle a simple spirit chauffeur and 911 call on my own.

The keys were to the motor scooter; it was the better choice in this situation, allowing for more mobility and no passenger seat for any extra ghosts to drop into. That did, though, mean that Craig would need to ride shotgun in my body.

When I got out to the green scooter in the driveway, I paused and looked over at Craig.

"Hey, I know you're probably still a little out of it, so Possession 101." Script time. At least having this stuff memorized made it easier to do while dozy. "Our bodies need to take up the same space, so c'mere." I beckoned Craig over.

"So like… step into you?" He asked. Good, seemed like his head was clearing up some.

"Yeah, that's part 1."

He nodded and complied, crossing the space between us and settling in the same location, the two of us clipped into each other like bugged NPCs. It always felt so weird, those moments before a spirit actually possesses you. A sort of wobbly, in-and-out feeling like physics is trying to crush you and the spirit together, or, failing that, just kick your ass to the ground so you're not both in the same place at the same time.

"A'ight, now turn around and face the direction I’m facing, and overlay your hands onto mine as best you can." It was just a moment for him to obey, and I continued. "I'm not resisting, so you're gonna start feeling like you're being pulled in and pushed out at the same time. Space is trying to equalize. Let yourself be pulled in. It's gonna feel a bit like-"

The whirlpool effect kicked in before I could finish, the sudden snap and release of tension as Craig's spirit sank into my body. I wobbled a bit and grabbed the handlebar in front of me, then shivered at the sudden chill and dizziness. I'm pretty good at taking on passengers like this, but that didn't make it any more pleasant.

"You in there, buddy?" I asked out loud. Especially with new spirits, trying to think at each other was more trouble than it was worth. My lips moved to answer, though it wasn't my voice coming out.

"Uh- yeah. Yeah I'm here."

I grabbed the helmet hanging on the other handlebar and snapped it on, kicking the stand up and plopping heavily onto the seat.

"Great. Let's go."

"Wait, why am I not in control?" came Craig's confused voice. He felt almost frustrated, an undercurrent of emotion that wasn't mine despite being in my mind and body.

"Because this is my body, and I let you in willingly. Easier to keep control when you're letting someone in. Plus," I gave a little snort. "You just died, dude. I've been letting spirits possess me since middle school."

I felt his frustration turn to grumpiness, and then the pressure in my head, like a storm rolling in, that I knew from experience was him trying to take control. I froze and let out an irritated huff.

"You stop that. I'm not dealing with you doing some dumb shit with my body. Either chill out or get out."

"Oh- uh. Just wanted to see if I could…"

"Uh-huh. Anyhow, now that you're together enough to try joyriding, do you remember much about where you were before you were killed?"

I started up the scooter as emotions rolled through my mind, detached and distant, almost like the muffled dissociation I was used to mid-shutdown. Possessing spirits' emotions always felt weird like that, both mine and not mine, held at arm's length. Craig's was especially turbulent for a new death, but given that he had been murdered… I didn't fault him for being a little confused and angry. Even if it did put me a little on edge.

"Uh- South Pine Street, Dogwood Acres housing development."

"Baller. That's not far from here. Once we get close to your body, you should be able to feel where it is, so I'll have a house number for the police. Don't want to have them scream in all blue lights and loud sirens and have your killer go to ground before they know which house, y'know?"

The muffled flare of anger that I felt was definitely not my own. I took a deep breath, hoped that the killer had panicked and tried to clean up instead of get rid of the body first, and puttered off towards Dogwood.

The housing development was quiet, lines upon lines of identical suburban boxes lit by flickering street lights that cast the sidewalks and yards in harsh white light. The occasional house had the glow of yellow within, but most of them were dormant. Weaving my way through the maze of streets, each one absolutely indistinguishable from the one before and the one to come, I felt terribly exposed -- and alone despite the spirit currently hitching along in my body.

I turned onto South Pine and brought my scooter to a puttering stop, stabilizing it with both feet on the ground. I couldn't help but bounce my legs to replace the vibration of driving; the sudden lack of sensation would ratchet my anxiety up even if I wasn't currently letting a frustrated dead man hang out in my head to catch his murderer.

...I should be more than a little anxious, really, but half-asleep Tabby once again wrote a check that more-awake Tabby is having to cash, and more-awake Tabby is very used to having to deal with the consequences of her idiot decisions. It occurred to me that normal peoples' consequences didn't usually involve murder, but when you live with the dead, you're bound to meet a few killers.

Two houses down, I could feel- not a tug so much as a presence, an echo of Craig's spirit reacting to his body. It was the only one on the street with its lights on and its garage, while not lit, was open. There was a car in the garage, another in the driveway, and a pickup at the curb in front.

"258?" I asked Craig, though I knew the answer already. His anger flared and I felt the oncoming storm again. I snapped at him. "That's two strikes, Craig. I'm sorry for your death, but if you end up driving my body into a crime scene or, god forbid, getting me killed next, I will kick your ass to whatever afterlife you're headed for and stay there to keep kicking it for eternity."

Big words for a short fat lady, but this is, in fact, my body on the line right now. I probably wouldn't be able to follow through on any ass-kicking, but dammit, I would try.

Craig was silent, and I could feel him steaming, petulant like a child denied a toy but with the power of a grown man behind it. With my stomach tying itself in knots and my hands starting to tremble, I dialed 911, hoping it would help quell the rising panic.

"258 South Pine Street. I think there's been a murder. I don't know the state of the crime scene or if the perp is still there, but you might be able to catch them if you hurry. The victim is Craig Davis, white adult male, either shot or stabbed in the chest, likely multiple times-"

"Wait, is this Tabby? The necro girl?"

Oh god I hope that isn't what the operators call me regularly-- I know I'm a bit of a 911 cryptid, since the usual intruder calls are to the non-emergency line, but if I get known as the necro girl I might have to move to a different state.

"Yeah, uh, necromancer, yeah-" I couldn't help but stumble over my words, now, with my train of thought derailed by the interruption. "-uh, murder?"

"Right! I'll send someone."

I murmured a thanks and hung up before she could ask me to stay on the line. I already had to stay around for the cops so Craig could give a statement, and making small talk with the 911 operator was not in the spoons tonight.

I don't like cops much, but in my line of work, they're kind of a necessity. I need to stay on the police force's good side because I need them to remove attempted murderers from my property on the regular. ...and also because graverobbing is still technically illegal, even if I do have the body owner's permission to dig them up.

At least most of the locals who know of me and my employees are chill about it. It took a bit of effort to get to that point, but now at least people don't run screaming from the less-presentable of my employees…

The blue lights of the police showed up fairly quickly, followed almost immediately by the red flashing of EMS. I puttered up slowly and parked my scooter just out of range as the officers set to work surrounding the house, then hung my helmet on a handlebar and walked up the rest of the way to watch the impending train wreck. I could feel Craig's anger boiling higher and tried my best to ignore it; Craig himself seemed to have fallen silent and sullen after I called him out.

"Tabby!"

I was standing just off to the side of the ambulance when someone stepped up behind me and called my name, making me jump and cringe.

"Oh- oh dear, I'm sorry, Tabs. I thought I heard you were the one who called this in!"

I straightened up immediately, face burning. I recognized that voice, bright and smooth and kind and--

"J-Jenna!" My voice was barely a squeak as I turned to face her, looking up at the round, dark face of one of the EMTs. She was a good six feet tall, maybe more, towering above me even in her uniform flats, with a brilliant smile and full lips and gorgeous natural hair pulled through the back of her uniform cap, the streetlight illuminating her from behind like a halogen angel.

Jenna had shown up to one of my early calls for assistance at No Regrets, and then she kept turning up, not every time I was in a situation where I'd be around EMTs, but often.

Concern showed on her face as she leaned to look me over.

"Are you okay? Did you see it happen, or-"

I shook my head, buying time to sort out words by tapping my temple with a finger.

"N-no, I uh- the victim woke me up, he's in here, uh, in case the cops need somethin' from him."

"Oh… are you getting enough sleep, dear? You sound exhausted. Do you want to sit in the back of the truck?"

It took me a second or two to recover from the way she called me dear, my face burning bright red. I couldn't make eye contact even for the second or two I can usually manage so that people don't immediately think I'm being dishonest.

"I- uh- um- w-well, it's, uh, it is like 4am--" I stammered, trying desperately to find words. "I-I guess 'm sleepin' okay, uh, how're… you doing??"

I have never been a great orator and the list of why that is gets a bit longer with every um and stutter.

Jenna's face bloomed into a gorgeous, open grin.

"I'm on 12-hour overnights right now, so I'm basically at least 60 percent Red Bull at any given time. Everyone okay up there at the House? Last I heard y'all were digging up half the lawn.”

I nodded, unable to keep from grinning. At least this was a subject I could talk to her about without making an absolute ass of myself--

"Yeah! The new girl, Chris, she's gotten Daryl and Roy to help her get the vegetable garden going! It's plenty big enough to take care of all of us, and I worked out a deal with the soup kitchen so that they get any of our excess, once things are running smoothly, and I can use their account to buy from that bulk food program that's usually only open to chari- oop-!" I bit my tongue and cringed. Right. I'm pretty sure that's technically fraud and I just admitted to it in front of-

There was a commotion from the house that snapped me back to attention, and the cops were leading a man out in handcuffs. He looked pale and shaken, spattered in blood, and not quite… present, like he had just checked out of reality for his own good. That… was a familiar look. I furrowed my brow. He certainly didn't look like a maniacal killer-

"He caught me with his wife," I said. Well. Craig said. I jumped. Jenna jumped. I flushed and covered my mouth reflexively.

"N-no that was him! The victim!" I squeaked. Jenna laughed, a hearty belly laugh, and covered her own mouth, though she was doing a terrible job of hiding her grin.

"I figured! If he caught you with his wife, it would be an upgrade!"

At this point, you could probably fry an egg on my face. Hell, my glasses were starting to fog up-- I stammered for a few moments, trying desperately to find something to say, and it was Craig who saved me, if you could call it that. I was too caught up in my embarrassment and awkwardness to realize how much anger and frustration he was radiating.

"Motherfucker told me he'd have my job! Son of a bitch thinks he can get away with doing this to me, he's gonna fucking pay--"

The oncoming storm crashed over me before I could get a grip on it, and all of a sudden I was lumbering forward, snarling words that weren't my own, and dragging a gardening pickaxe out of my truck -- Craig's truck -- on my way to the man and the cops--

I let out a shriek, in my own voice, feeling the sound cutting my throat raw. I wrested control of my body back with a lurch, falling on my ass in the yard with the force of it while the silvery-blue form of Craig was ejected from my body, screaming obscenities.

I threw my hand forward, fighting for whatever thoughts and words I could find to fix this. I saw Craig right himself and move back towards me, and the first incantation -- if you could call it that -- that my brain grasped left my lips in a single desperate breath, with a dizzying rush of power--

"INTHENAMEOFTHEMOONIBANISHYOU--!!"

The force of the hurried exorcism rushed outward like a sonic boom, strong enough for even the mundanes around me to feel, and Craig's spirit let out a yowl of rage for a brief second before twisting around itself and collapsing in with a sickening crunch, crushing smaller and smaller until it was gone.

I winced -- not my best exorcism. At all.

As the flare of adrenaline dropped almost immediately and I came back to myself properly, I realized -- blurrily, as my glasses had gotten thrown off somewhere -- at least two officers had their weapons half-drawn at me, though they were looking over at where Craig's spirit had disappeared.

I collapsed the rest of the way onto the grass, shaking, and covered my face with my hands, trying with everything within me not to start crying. I should have realized he'd try something like that, why hadn't I been paying attention- I could have been attacked, I could have been arrested, I could have had to watch myself beat a man to death and I- fuck--

The sob that came out was squeaky and pained, and I pressed my hands harder against my face, like that would stop anything else from going wrong. I should have brought someone-- I shouldn't have let him possess me-- I should have been paying more attention--

Warm tears ran from the corners of my eyes, down my cheeks, to pool in my ears, making my already-trembling body shiver harder with the unpleasant sensation. I'd let myself get complacent, hadn't lost control of a possession like that in years, and- I'd almost- fuck--

"Honey, honey, sit up for me. Tabby? C'mon, let's get you up--"

Numbly, I let Jenna help me into a sitting position, where she wrapped a blanket around me and pressed an open bottle of water into my hands.

"Take slow sips. Are you okay? Just shaken?"

I nodded, some part of me grateful that I couldn't quite see her face properly without my glasses, because I didn't want to see what she thought about me after that. She sighed, though, and sounded relieved when she murmured "Good."

My whole body felt like jelly, trembling so hard I could feel the water in the bottle sloshing around, and I kept flashing from too hot to too cold to too hot again, and I couldn't even sort out my thoughts--

Jenna sat down beside me and rubbed my back. If I wasn't having a complete breakdown, I might have enjoyed it.

I don't know how long it took for me to calm down and clear my head, but the car with the other man had left, and the other EMTs had loaded Craig's body into the ambulance while Jenna sat next to me and made sure I was doing okay.

After a while, though, I blinked and shifted my torso, then opened the blanket more and cursed at the bloom of red on my hoodie.

I heard Jenna curse as well as she stood up, but I grabbed her pants leg.

"N-no, 'm okay," I mumbled, and instead of trying to speak more, I reached to pull my hoodie and tank up my stomach to show bruised, but completely unbroken skin, covered in blood, rivulets following my stretch marks and making it look even worse despite my being otherwise completely uninjured. "See, 'm okay." This was not the first time I've had a possession lead to the dead's cause of death showing on my own body. It wasn't even the bloodiest.

Jenna sat back down, and I could see her leaning in a bit.

"Well damn. Magic ghost stuff, huh?"

I nodded.

"Magic ghost stuff."

I could see the flash of white against dark skin as she grinned.

"So that exorcism… Artemis or Usagi?"

It took me a moment to parse her.question, but all of a sudden I was completely back to myself, just in time to absolutely die of embarrassment.

"L-listen, I- y-you can exorcise i-in anyone's name, i-it's the power and conviction that counts--!!"

"Usagi, then." I could hear the laughter in her voice, laughter that bubbled out moments later. I wanted to crawl in a hole in embarrassment, but- it didn't feel like condescending laughter. I knew what that felt like. She seemed just genuinely amused. "I grew up with Sailor Moon, too."

I couldn't stop the squeak that eaked out, and I covered my face again.

"G-god I hope word about this doesn't get out, people already think I-I'm weird enough, and to- to fall back on anime for magic i-in a pinch is just--"

"Cute," Jenna finished.

I squeaked.

Jenna moved away for a moment, and then she settled my glasses on my nose. I couldn't make eye contact, but I did glance over at her and sheepishly murmur my thanks.

"The officers still want a statement from you, since you made the call and tried to go after the perp, but I don't think they're looking at any charges, given…" Jenna trailed off and looked over at where Craig had disappeared. "...yeah."

I nodded, slowly, and then found myself yawning, the adrenaline drop setting in especially hard.

"...d'you think it can wait 'til tomorrow… 've kinda had a rough night."

"I think they'll be okay with that."

#house of no regrets #no regrets #tabby #jenna #writing #ethical necromancy #necromancer #paranormal #fantasy #magic #writeblr #story #useless lesbian tabby has A Night

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horanghaechan · 3 years

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Dream in a Dream (M)

pairing: Prince!Ten x Princess!You

word count: 6k

warnings: written in 3rd person, mature content, fluffy, ten being the love of my life

synopsis: The Four Great Kingdoms took turns to maintain the peace of a planet called Mahabhuta. However, when minor rebellions threaten its stability, two kingdoms seek an alliance. But, hearts could never be war weapons. What to do when one of them is already committed to another?

Inspired by indian/turkish stuff and Avatar lol

[a/n]: since he (and his smile) was the reason i started stanning nct back in march 2016 (lol) i decided to post this here, the original version is in portuguese and posted on my fic site. happy bday, phonphon, you deserve the world.

also, english is not my first language so any grammar/etc mistake please let me know!

First of all, a small glossary so you don’t get lost:

The cycle of the Great Kingdoms of Mahabhuta takes place by:

Kingdom of Prithvi (Kingdom of Earth)

Kingdom of Apas-Jal (Kingdom of Water)

Kingdom of Agni (Kingdom of Fire)

Kingdom of Vayu (Kingdom of Air)

However, there is Akasha (Heaven, "vacuum"), by which all other kingdoms are "subjected". Akasha’s laws override any other law, as they were enacted prior to the division of Mahābhūta.

The hierarchy in each kingdom consists of:

Samraat and Samrajni – emperor and empress;

Maharaja and Maharani – king and queen, used formally for the heirs of the throne;

Raja and Rani – king and queen, used informally with the heirs of the throne.

Some words used by the characters and their meanings:

Evet: an informal way of saying “yes”;

Nei: an informal way of saying “no”;

Shokran: “thanks” said from peasants to monarchs;

Shukriya: “thanks” said from monarchs to peasants;

Olum: interjection of astonishment, incredulity.

Om Shanti: good luck.

Findi: petname, which can mean both “love” and “sweetheart”, normally related to married couples.

☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼

Border between Vayu and Prithvi, Apas-Jal Era.

Some carriages and soldiers crossed the bridge across the border of the Kingdom of Prithvi. Everyone there was fully aware of what they were doing, but no one hesitated. Keeping Maharani of Vayu happy was the only thing they were looking for.

“Rani Y/N are you sure that Raja Chittaphon will be waiting for us?” Ipek, Y/N’s chaperone and personal maid, asked worriedly.

“Evet.” Y/N nodded. “It’s our only chance.”

“Samraat Bhima will be horrified when he notices that you are missing.”

“He will.” The princess smiled. “But he’ll eventually understand that I had to.”

“Everyone will be delighted when you get married to Raja Chittaphon, right?!” Ipek smiled when she noticed how the girl’s face lit up at her question.

“Hopefully so, Ipek. That’s what I’m aiming for.” Y/N sighed, biting another smile. Remembering Chittaphon always resulted in moments like that, where everything melted and she became a puddle of love.

She still shivered like a fool when she remembered when they met.

Flashback on

Jala, Kingdom of Apas-Jal, 3 years ago

The corridors of the Palace of Jala were huge and very confusing. There were no separated doors, let alone identification by floors or wings. Y/N walked blindly through them, because she couldn’t remember where they assigned her rooms earlier.

“Well, I’m sure it’s not here.” One of the doors opened and a boy came out of it, on his back, wearing a typical outfit of the monarchs she knew.

“Olum!” Y/N froze on her place.

“Oh, are you the owner of this room?” He turned to her, drawing her attention to the pair of amused chestnut eyes that stared at her.

“Nei, nei. I’m lost.” She confessed. “I thought the floor was empty.”

“They told me that the Kingdom of Agni would be on the third floor, according to the cycle, but I confess I’m having trouble counting. Is it the third excluding the ground floor, or the third from the ground?” The boy smiled and she felt her heart flutter.

She absolutely adored smiles.

And... Olum, that smile was out of this world!

“Well, guess I’m twice wrong, then.” she blushed.

“You’re not from Agni, I suppose.”

“Nei. I’m from Vayu.” She extended her hand, indicating the ring of the Compass Rose, which was the symbol of her kingdom. “I ended getting lost...”

“Ten, from Agni.” the boy showed his own ring too, a ruby sun adorning his hand. Only monarchs wore such rings. “Maybe if we go back where you came from, we’ll be able to find your chaperone.”

“Y/N, from Vayu.” She bowed, understanding now with whom she spoke. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Maharaja Chittaphon.”

“Olum, it can’t be!” Another lovely smile painted his thin lips. “Maharani Y/N Vatavaran?” Ten sounded excited. “I spent years trying to get to know you!”

“Really?” Y/N raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Indeed! Did you think that you could remain incognito forever? All kingdoms are curious about the Heiress of the Air.” he signalled for them to start walking. He couldn’t touch her until they were officially introduced. “I suppose you make your debut at tonight’s ball?”

“My parents decided that it’s time for me to seek popularity.” She nodded. “I’m a little afraid, you know? Balls have always seemed too formal.”

“And they are.” Ten agreed. “But as soon as we are introduced, I’ll ask for one dance, and I hope you’ll save me a page on your card.”

“As I don’t know anyone, you’ll have them all.” She laughed.

“Perfect! So I won’t have to keep company with the Apas.”

“Don’t you like water?”

“I don’t like anything that puts out fire.” Ten joked casually, and then realized that the princess was puzzled by his comment. “Don’t worry, the air tends to spread it. I really like the air.” The same amusement gleam flashed through those chestnut eyes.

Y/N also had made up her mind: she liked the fire a lot.

End of flashback

Closing her eyes, Y/N waited for the right time to relax. When the antelope’s hooves stopped, she knew it was near.

“Maharani Vatavaran, we have arrived.” One of the soldiers tapped the carriage window twice, breaking the silence. “Maharaja Bhumi is waiting for you.”

“I’ll go down. Shukriya.” Y/N smiled. “We’ll meet tomorrow, Ipek. Watch out for any strange movements, pay close attention to the air! As we are in Prithvi you may feel weaker, but just focus on the atmosphere.”

“Evet, evet. Now go, we have no time to waste!” Ipek rushed her.

“Off I go.” Y/N smiled. “Wish me luck.”

“Om Shanti.” Ipek raised her hands to her face, crossing them in the shape of a bird and touching her forehead between them, a gesture of undoubted respect to Her Highness.

Y/N got out of the carriage and came across Bhumi, Prithvi’s heir. They had become very close friends when they were in Jala, because Bhumi was Ten’s close cousin. Adding up to their escapade, Varaha, capital of Prithvi, was extremely close to Akasha – if all went well, they’d need just two days to arrive there.

“I’m glad you made it!” Bhumi hugged her. “Ten must be on his way.” He signalled for a carriage behind them. “If they saw Vayu’s carriage we might have had problems, so I thought it is better to use mine until we get to the house.”

“Thanks for helping.” She thanked him, getting into the car.

“You know my weaknesses are love stories, Y/N.” Bhumi laughed. “I asked some guards to take the road to Akasha and they reported that it is in perfect condition. I separated two stops, one in Urvarak and the other in Chattaan; if you manage to reach Chattaan tomorrow by the afternoon, Akasha is just an hour away, so you can rest and do everything at dawn. I estimate that by lunchtime you’ll be married.” Bhumi gave her hands a soft squeeze. “Om Shanti, cousin.”

“Thank you, dear. But can’t we go straight to Chattaan?”

“It’d be very risky and a tad tiring. If other guards notice a strange movement on the roads, it’ll be warned to my father and everything will go down the drain.”

“Then we will follow the pace of normal travelers.” Y/N nodded. “Ipek is following in a carriage with some of my guards, but there is nothing that indicates my presence or relation to me. Do you think they are in danger?”

“If there’s nothing of yours with her, then I don’t believe so.” Bhumi waved a hand, dispensing bad luck. “As soon as they reach Urvarak, if they wish, they can go up in the air and proceed directly to Akasha, without stopping by Chattaan, or just taking a short rest. But, in my point of view, it’d be a little risky, no? Since your father will notice your disappearance in a few hours...”

“I’ll talk to Ipek, then. It would be really good if we had someone waiting for us in Akasha.” Y/N stared at the road. “How long does it take for Urvarak?”

“If you leave this morning, you’ll be there before sunset. That, of course, if you stop to eat and everything.” Bhumi loosened a belt that held his royal attire. “We will be near Varaha in a few minutes, but I’ll drop you off at home and go to the palace. You need to be aware because only Ten knows where it is.”

“Do you think he hasn’t arrived yet?”

“I don’t know how it went with the guards at the border, even if I let them know he was coming.” Bhumi sighed. “In times of crisis, things get chaotic.’

“I hope we don’t make this a bigger problem.” Y/N sighed.

“Love inevitably creates problems, baby.” he laughed. “But, a Maharaja has always been able to choose his wife and vice versa. I don’t see your marriage as an affront to Mahabhuta’s balance, but exactly what Apas-Jal and Agni wanted to do: an alliance. So, if we are to have an alliance, let it be real and auspicious.”

“Ah Bhumi, dear, you’re so good with words.” Y/N laughed, trying to relax.

☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼

The house consisted of Prithvi’s standard architecture, with various stone details and spearhead adornments. After hugging and thanking Bhumi four more times, Y/N quietly entered the house, dressed as an ordinary Vahara citizen. It was very good that Bhumi had chosen a normal property instead of a more luxurious and aristocratic house.

She put her bag in the living room and walked to the bathroom, desperate to shower and do her hair. It could be the height of futility, but Y/N did not want Ten to see her sloppy and dirty. All those times they met when she was air bending were enough... They, in general, involved a lot of dust and dry leaves.

“Of course Bhumi would do that.” Y/N sweetly smiled when she found cinnamon essence in the bathroom. This was, in the best description, Vayu’s “official” smell.

While the water in the bathtub heated up, Y/N stretched out a lacy mid-length dress and a cloak. She had brought, in addition to that outfit, another white dress – which she would wear the day she arrived in Akasha – and a dark green dress.

Y/N smoothed the velvet piece and smiled a little. She was starting quite an adventure, but couldn’t find the slightest regret for what she was doing. For sure, if she had to choose, she would do everything again and again.

After washing up, Y/N was braiding her hair when she heard a noise coming from the kitchen. She felt chills down her spine, but because the house had only one floor, anyone who entered it would make enough noise for her to prepare before she could cross the room. Awareness spread through her and she held tight on her hairbrush and a small hand mirror – since there wasn’t enough time to look for any other weapon.

“Y/N?” Her name came out loud in a soft voice, almost like velvet.

“Ten!” dropping all objects, she ran to him.

The couple hugged each other, trying to make up for all the one-month longing in those few seconds. A never-ending month in which Ten had heard about the arranged marriage; he and Y/N did not have much chance of communicating; and in which each other’s world seemed to get off track with the possibility of not being able to be together as they wanted to.

“How are you? Did you arrive safely?” Ten caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, loving how Y/N’s eyes closed at the slightest touch.

“I got scared thinking the house was invaded, but now I’m fine. And yes, I arrived safely thanks to Bhumi’s assistance.” she smiled.

“Sorry, I heard the water and decided it’d be respectful to wait.”

“There’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” Y/N blinked, wickedly.

“I know.” Ten brought his face close to hers. “But I thought we had agreed not to do anything else until the wedding?!”

“To look doesn’t mean to touch.” She lifted her chin, voice dripping challenge.

“It turns out, little devil, I’m not so magnanimous.” He pressed his lips to hers, savouring the longing. The last time they saw each other they had to be quick, because it was at the reunion of the kingdoms, and although they could not participate actively, the heirs had an obligation to be present.

Ten circled her waist, breathing in the cinnamon and melting on Y/N’s tongue. Her whole body was on fire – almost not so figuratively – when they were together. Even though he knew they couldn’t waste time, he delighted himself with a few bites on her neck, fighting the urge to take the kiss further.

“I swear I can’t wait to be married.” She whispered. “Then I won’t need to count our minutes together.”

“Soon.” Ten winked. “We are leaving this morning, right?”

“I think it would be ideal. Bhumi said that we can get to Akasha in two days, or we can cut some time, but we would not have Ipek anticipating any problems. It’s up to you.” She shrugged.

“We’ll do what is best at the moment, findi.” Ten smiled. “This nickname gets better and better just because it reminds me that it should be used by married people.”

“You are very keen to remember that we will get married.”

“In Agni, marriage is one of the best things that could happen to anyone, you know?” He let Y/N get out of his arms. “You can’t blame me for this.”

“I don’t blame you, but your excitement is so evident that it makes me look disinterested… And you know I’m not.”

“It’ll show up as soon as we have tied our strings.”

Y/N smiled at the mention, because the wedding rite in Akasha had, as one of the main points, to use strings. Each kingdom had its specific ritual, and they should be performed according to the bride and groom’s wishes (and the place they were in, regardless of their nationalities). When Y/N was learning about kingdoms and their cultures, she never imagined that she’d marry in Akasha, let alone with their celebration. She couldn’t wait to put it into practice.

“How’s the situation in Agni?” Y/N asked as she folded her clothes.

“Kinda stable.” Ten sat on the bed and removed his boots. “Dad thinks it’s a matter of time before it spreads to other regions other than the capital”.

“I hope nobody gets seriously hurt until we get this solved.”

“For now there was nothing.” he nodded. “Just two fires in abandoned houses. The big problem is that this affects the population indirectly; after all, you never know when they will start attacking them. Psychological terror is the worst weapon.”

“Do you think we’re going to make it worse by getting married?” Y/N swallowed.

“I think...” Ten looked at her, a small smile adorning his beautiful face. “That love is a force far greater than greed and power. If two prosperous kingdoms tied by love, and nothing but love, fails to reach everyone’s heart, then no alliance between two other kingdoms will change reality.” He held out his hand, looking for hers over the velvet dress. “I didn’t lie when I said I would set the world on fire if something hurt you, findi. It only takes one word and we return to our kingdoms.”

“No!” she denied fervently. “I won’t give you up. I only worry about these rebellions...” She shrugged. “But I love you, Ten. You know that, right?”

“Always.” he nodded. “Why don’t we rest before leaving?!”

☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼

The two of them really tried to rest, but the growing tension and adrenaline from their escape were too much. Long before planned, they were already on the road, heading towards Urvarak.

“It’s amazing how, despite the night, everyone lives normally. Look at how crowded the road is!” Y/N commented, surprised. “The Kingdom that never sleeps, really.”

“We have a stop in forty minutes. If you’re cold, I can stop to get the blanket from the trunk.” Ten, the gentleman he was, offered.

“I’m fine, findi. If anything, I can hug you and I’ll be warm soon.”

“If you don’t want to be attacked by my kisses, I advise you to stay away.”

“What if I want?” She raised her eyebrow.

“Seriously Y/N, I don’t know what to do with you!” he laughed. “We’ll definitely take the air route and get married as soon as possible.”

“It’s amazing how shy I still am with your flirty banters.” Y/N sighed, because in spite of being bold, that was not quite how she felt.

Sometimes she managed to keep on her carefree persona, but her feelings for Ten always made her embarrass herself. It summed up in a fool, enchanted by any movement or word spoken by him... Especially when they were addressed to her. Olum, how difficult it was to remain serious at public parties! Both of them needed to behave as if they didn’t like each other more than the “necessary”, as if they had priorities and not wished to spend every second together. Thanks to Bhumi, they were able to get away often and make some time to ease their longing.

“Ah, Rani Y/N,” he clicked his tongue. “why does this shyness never appear when it should?” His chestnut eyes flashed in a playful glow.

“Stop it, Ten!” She laughed, shyly. “but, I must confess, I don’t regret you being the first. In everything.”

“It would be a little too late to regret it, you know?” Ten pinned. “However, that does not diminish the pleasure of listening to your confession. I hope that, in addition to being your first, I’ll also be your last.”

“If we get to Akasha really fast...” She batted her well-trained lashes, like a she used to do when trying to manipulate her father into thinking she was sweet and innocent.

“It’s decided! At the next stop I’ll look for antelopes and tomorrow afternoon we’ll be married.” Ten shook his head like an indignant little boy.

“In my suitcase I have a Vayu scroll and I will make sure that it reaches Ipek as soon as possible.” Y/N winked at the groom.

“What a helpful wife I got!

“Olum, you can’t even imagine.” She grinned.

☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼

The innkeeper explained to them how to get to the antelopes in two stops. They had thirty minutes until there, and the horses were losing their pace along the way. Fear not, Y/N thought, since she already had everything worked out in her head!

Probably, her father would be finding out about her disappearance at that moment, and then he would start searching the palace and the gardens. Then, when he didn’t find her, he would request searches around the city. Then, the Royal Guard would issue a search warrant to all kingdoms, and perhaps Chittaphon’s parents would warn Vayu of his disappearance as well. Then they would finally come to conclusion of what happened to the two heirs, and if they were as smart as Y/N hoped, they would march to Akasha.

Only that it would be too late.

Because she’d be married!

Perfect.

The antelope route was really the best option.

“Maybe I can bend some air so the horses can rest. I can make sure no one notices that they’re floating...”

“You schemed.” Ten laughed. “I don’t know why I thought I wouldn’t do it.”

“Perhaps you’re so excited about the escape that you didn’t pay close attention.” She joked. Everyone knew how much Maharani Y/N loved to turn things into schemes. “Well, if my plan is right, we have about fifteen hours to get married and consummate it, avoiding, even if improbable, it to be nulled.” she laughed. “Therefore, we indeed have to take the air route.”

“Amazing, findi.” Ten winked.

☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼

Akasha was a wonderful city. Y/N visited there only twice: when she was born, and when she reached her adult age, so she had to seize her title of heiress. She remembered the big trees, especially the cherry ones, the colourful houses, the bright and clean streets, the undeniably blue sky... There never seemed to exist bad weather in Akasha! When they stopped in front of the temple where they would celebrate their wedding, Y/N’s heart raced. It was a large and flowery place, like a cottage, with symbols of the four kingdoms and their specific plants. Two carriages (one with her guards and the other with his) were waiting for them in the parking lot. Impatient, Ten grabbed her hand and they both entered the temple, drowning in emotion and adrenaline.

“Ready?”

“Always.” she smiled.

Ipek, who had been instructed to organize everything, was talking to two monks and the celebrator. As soon as she saw Her Highness, she ran to help her get ready. They couldn’t waste a second of the day!

The typical ceremonial dress Ipek got was cream coloured, adorned with gold accents, and a dark green – almost black – velvet cape that made the costume extremely elegant. From the bar to the knee, the lines formed spirals and points that resembled the starry sky or some forest/landscape seen from above. Her hair was braided with gold threads and cherry blossoms, because they were the symbol of Akasha. At her hands, in addition to the jewels she was supposed to wear, temporary ink tattooed the main crests of the four kingdoms extended from the wrist to the elbow, to indicate the union of these nations. On her feet, more drawings, up to the height of her shin. She should be barefoot, connecting to the nature and the land, as a sign of balance.

“Raja Chittaphon is ready.” Ipek returned to the salon where Y/N was dressed. “Now we just need the ornaments on the face and you can go!”

“I’m anxious.” Y/N exhaled. “Let’s get on with it soon!”

“I promise it will be very quick.”

After Ipek used powder from shiny stones and glued three diamonds above her left eyebrow, Y/N was ready.

Ipek and two guards accompanied her to the decorated courtyard, where those responsible for marrying her had started the blessing in Ten, preventing him from seeing her. Y/N watched, with her racing heart, the black and gold velvet suit he wore, a single cherry blossom attached to the left side of his chest.

“We’re ready.” The monk guided her to the entrance of the hall.

After a short speech in Akasha’s dialect, one of the monks began to play a harp, while Y/N crossed the room towards Ten, not knowing how to react to the prince’s brilliant and hypnotic gaze.

When they faced each other, the monk handed them a small vase with coloured sand. According to the ritual, the sand symbolized “the union of two different points in the name of something greater” in this case, love, and each one should pour a little of it on a plate, so that the mixture of colours creates a new one: their colour. Y/N watched wordlessly as a lilac originated from the mixture.

“Now hold hands.” The man responsible for the ceremony instructed. “This is the thread of companionship. For Akasha, you are one, but this does not mean that you should forget who you were before the wedding. One hand is tied to the partner’s, while the other is free to remind you that there is room for both to grow together and individually.” He tied the ribbon on their fist. “Still united, we will recite the vows and walk towards the end of the celebration.”

Y/N and Ten repeated each word very calmly, although their hearts were desperate for the end. After washing their feet in the water of the main river, Kundalini, to purify their bodies in this new phase, the couple still had to plant a tree as well, symbolizing their growth. And, to the sound of “Under the laws of Akasha, I declare you husband and wife”, several fireworks were lit. Ipek started the party by playing a soft melody over two lovers, and the people present continued with the dance. The newest couple stared at each other, laughing.

“I think this is our cue to escape... Findi.” The nickname now sounded a thousand times wicked in Ten’s voice. “Let’s go?”

“I was counting the seconds.” Y/N nodded, intertwining their fingers, as they still had one hand joined.

☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼

Ten undid the first tie of Y/N’s dress quite slowly. He had done it a few times, but at that moment, it was too special to ruin it in a hurry. They were finally married. He no longer needed to be quick with Y/N. Now they had all the time in the world to love each other as they deserved.

“Do you need help?” Y/N frowned.

“No, findi. I just want to... Take it slow.” The light entering the room made his eyes even brighter. “Because you deserve to be adored, from head to toe. Quietly. Every inch.” To demonstrate his words, he raised her fist and glued his mouth to it, running his tongue lightly over her soft skin.

“Ten...” She breathed weakly, it tickled.

“What?” He smiled. “‘Ah Ten’, ‘more Ten’, ‘please, Ten’?”

“Pretentious rake.” Y/N shook her head, feeling her heart explode with joy.

“Your pretentious rake. Your favourite rake. Yours, for eternity.”

She closed her eyes at those words. She was his, too, since the damn smile he gave her in the hall of Apas-Jal’s palace. Olum, how could one live with so much love inside them?! And how lucky had she been to feel that and be reciprocated?!

I’m staying up

I don’t wanna come down from your love

Ten pulled her close, melting his mouth on her neck, biting and sucking like he knew she liked. He wrapped his arms around her, throwing the damn tie to the floor. Y/N smelled extremely well, having washed and removed the tattoos she was supposed to use for the wedding ceremony. His fingers tangled in the fabric of her nightgown at the mere sound of her quiet moan, trying to go easy, to remain chill. He didn’t want to go fast. He had to stay calm.

“Let’s go to the bed, huh?” Y/N suggested, knees buckling from all those emotions.

“I tell you I want to take it easy and you urge me to go fast...” He shook his head, carefully guiding her to the huge mattress. “What should I do?”

“You can start by kissing me here.” She signalled from her collarbone to the valley between the breasts. Ten smiled. “Or, you can let me take off your clothes...”

It’s not that she didn’t want to be worshiped from head to toe, but if her calculations didn’t fail, someone from the Kingdom of Vayu would arrive in Akasha by the end of the afternoon... And if the wedding wasn’t consummated, they could be in trouble. She and Chittaphon never took more than thirty minutes with sex, because there were always too many people around and if they were five minutes late, someone would miss one of them. It was unfair that their first time since married had to be rushed too, but they would have a whole life together.

But, Y/N should be grateful. At least they were together.

“What are you thinking?”

“Schemes.” She joked.

“ Now, now, Rani Y/N, that was an unfortunate answer.” He started unbuttoning his shirt. “Guess I’ll need to be a little cruel this time. I don’t want you thinking about anything other than my mouth and my fingers on your body.”

“Or your dick.” Y/N smirked, satisfied with the provocation.

She closed her eyes and felt Ten’s lips come down over her shoulder, paiting small bites. With her legs spread, he found space to rest between her thighs while devouring each centimetre of the princess. Her calculations were forgotten as soon as his fingertips went up the hem of her dress, sliding down the inside of her thighs, making her shiver. He reached her underwear and touched her clothed womanhood.

“I want you to do that again.” Y/N moaned.

“Do what?”

“You know what.” She gasped when he brushed her swollen spot.

“I don’t know,” He commented wickedly. “But I have an idea of what it is… And for that, I will finally need to take your clothes off.” He couldn’t believe that after months he’d be able to see her completely naked again.

Rather than feeling shy, Y/N was more than willing to throw the sleeping dress away. They never had much time to get rid of all their clothes, so she was also counting on Ten naked. It had been a long time since she had had such a privilege to see him like that. And the view was always a spectacle!

She sat up suddenly, leaving him a little unbalanced, but grinning. Y/N started pulling on her nightgown anyway, not caring if she would tear it up. Ten could bent fire, but what burned inside her was pure lust. He would have a hard time controlling his wife, especially if he continued to look at her as if she were a work of art. But as soon as the fabric passed over her head, Y/N didn’t have time to absorb the intensity of his eyes. Ten pulled her by the hand, kissing her urgently.

With the princess in his lap, he got rid of his shirt and tried to open his trousers’ button. To give him enough space, Y/N stepped back a little, noting a new detail in his left arm: there were two lines near the elbow, one thick and the other a little thinner. Unlike the wedding tattoos, those lines seemed permanent.

“What is it?” She asked curiously.

“In Agni, every married man should have this tattoo. It is like a ring that we never take out or lose.” Ten looked at his arm. “Women should have these lines on their ankles, but since you are not from Agni, I thought it best not to ask you to tattoo it.”

“I want to!” She cut him off. “I’ll do it, if you want me to.”

“Really?” Ten smiled. He was always touched by Y/N’s loving manner. She was his best companion, in any situation. Even when they could get in trouble, Y/N would not leave him alone. She preferred that they’d get scolded together than to leave him. “Then, as soon as we wake up, I’ll ask the monk to arrange everything.”

“I think I will have a charming ankle.” She stretched out one leg, moving close to where Ten wanted her most. “Oh, oops...” Y/N smirked, faking a shy laugh.

“Findi, findi.” He shook his head, matching her smirk.

“Let me make up for the distraction.” Y/N moved away as she lowered her hands to his pants, finishing unbuttoning them.

“Your wish is my command, findi.”

We’ll get lost together

Let me flow

Ten swallowed hard as soon as he felt her mouth kissing his abdomen. Y/N was not ashamed of trying to please him. She was always receptive and creative, making each time something very unique and very special. Unlike what was expected of an Air Princess – known for being more reserved and a little cold. Y/N had fire inside her. She burned like him… Burned with him. For him.

With her delicate fingers, Y/N removed Ten’s pants, and began her exploration on his belly, playing with the fine line of hair up to the underwear he was wearing. It was unusual for her to dedicate themselves so much to foreplay, but she was loving seeing Ten so mesmerized by her movements. Very gently, Y/N took him with one hand, going on with a lazy back and forth motion, just to make him double hard and more desperate. Her eyes found the glowing chestnut globes and she smirked, causing a burst of pleasure to break inside Ten, who moaned loudly.

That was enough for him. Blast trying to prolong the moment! He needed Y/N and he needed her now. Pulling her by the chin, they came face to face.

“I miss you,” The distance between their mouths became even smaller. “around me.”

The kiss began sweet, slow, but charged with lust. Both were already familiar with the delicious sensations that any scarce touch between them provided, but nothing compared to the anxiety build during foreplay. It was very, very good. Their bodies were tickling and hot, their hearts beating fast and their minds remembering all those times when they were together.

How glorious it was when they met.

It was a different, more intense sensation. Y/N didn’t understand why she wanted to cry and laugh out loud, like a crazy girl. The tossed their underwear out, surrendering to the bubbling desire. Ten put her hands on his shoulders and smiled warmly, making the frenzy an act of zeal. He leaned down to kiss her again, and from there, it was automatic. Y/N’s hip followed its own will and moved, showing exactly what it was looking for. The kiss became wet and some moans escaped not so quietly. Ten’s husky voice was the turning point for the princess.

“Come here.” He asked in a whisper.

Ten turned her on the bed and stood over her, waist between her legs. He entered without warning, fast and strong. A louder than expected groan left her throat, earning a chuckle mixed with a grunt from the prince. Y/N brought her hands to his back, dividing her attention between his shoulder blades and his dark, silky hair. With a love bite at the junction of her neck and shoulder, Ten started to move. Slow and intense, but picking up as the seconds passed by. Y/N already knew what to do to please him, so she devoted herself to his neck, trying to occupy her mouth with something other than “Oh, Ten” or scandalous moans. He grabbed one of her thighs and wrapped it around her waist, managing to reach deeper. Then, he was thrusting hard and fast. Y/N rolled her eyes and arched her back, forgetting about the whole world.

This was perfect.

Her stomach churned with several knots of pleasure, the peak of her orgasm reaching its maximum when Ten grabbed her face and kissed her urgently. Y/N felt the spasms in every cell, not knowing if she was able to enjoy her climax and kiss Ten at the same time. The prince continued to dive deeper until he too reached his release, making her want to get there again. Y/N slipped a hand to her swollen spot and began to rub it, tightening her muscles even more and listening to Ten’s sexy growls. And it worked.

Don’t ever let me come down from your love

From your love, from your love

☼ ⸛ ☼ ⸛ ☼

Ten examined his wife’s ankle, amused by the way she didn’t try to pretend that the tattoo was a “big deal”.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t want to tell me that this was common in Agni.” She lowered her dress’ skirt. “It looks rather cute on my ankle, doesn’t it?”

“You look rather cute, indeed.”

“Not me, the tattoo you didn’t want to tell me about!” She grinned.

“Are we going to talk about this again?” He hugged her, placing a sweet kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, anyway, for accepting. I love you.”

“My pleasure.” Y/N waved her hand. “Love you more.”

Ten offered her a glass of water and a cookie, because she hadn’t eaten breakfast in her desperation to get the tattoo. The monk finished cleaning the room and excused himself, but as soon as he left, Ipek hurried in.

“Rani Y/N! Rani Y/N!”

“What is it, Ipek?” Y/N disengaged herself from Ten’s embrace and stood up.

“Samraat Bhima is here... And he didn’t come alone.” Ipek pointed to the window.

When she pulled the curtain, Y/N could see Vayu’s flags extending across a large part of the street, accompanied by some of Agni’s. She turned to Ten in a mixture of concern and joy. It was time to announce to the kingdoms what they had done. And to hope that love would be enough.

“Olum, findi, it looks like we have some nations to win back.” She grinned.

And hand in hand, they went out to face the nations of Air and Fire.

#ten scenarios #ten smut #nct scenarios #nct smut #wayv scenarios #wayv smut #superm scenarios #superm smut #nct ten #wayv ten #superm ten #ten chittaphon #chittaphon x reader #happytenday

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rip-apush · 3 years

Text

Won't You Love Me?

A fanfiction

Link to AO3

(I don’t usually post my fanfics here, but this one fits the ~academic vibe~ (kinda, if only in the sense that it is related to ~classic literature~) so here we are)

Summary:

Winston wants O'Brien to pay attention to him, even if that means O'Brien is just torturing him. Featuring: Simp Winston, Calculating O'Brien, and Uncomfortable Torture Scenes

Notes:

So my friends decided that we were going to write Winbrien fanfiction one day, so we all got onto a group call and wrote some. This is what I wrote. I'd like to apologize to my English teacher. This is probably not what you had in mind when we read 1984.

Word Count: 2558

Trigger Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, Gaslighting (nothing not in the book, it's 1984 after all), Torture (again, nothing not in the book)

Winston gazed into the moody depths of O’Brien’s eyes. This was the man who had broken him. The man who had torn down his humanity, sucked all individuality out of him, and in its place put love for Big Brother. The theft of his identity would usually be something Winston resented a person for, yet in this case, he did not. For he loved Big Brother. He loved this new person he had become. O’Brien could never — would never — love him, were it not for the passionate love for Big Brother that now filled him. Indeed, O’Brien was the closest thing he would have to Big Brother, and he loved Big Brother, so in a way he did not love O’Brien, but rather the greater cause he represented.

The Party had outlawed passion, except that for Big Brother. But the Party was Big Brother, and Big Brother was the Party, and they were all the Party, so really, Winston did not love O’Brien, but rather Big Brother in O’Brien’s shell.

That was what he told himself, anyway.

As Winston looked into O’Brien’s eyes, he thought about how he had come to this place, how he had come to love O’Brien and Big Brother so completely.

It had started when he was being tortured in Room 101. As he renounced Julia, wishing the rats upon her in his stead, he no longer loved her. He had betrayed her, well and fully. Doing such a thing stopped up what had been the torrent of love. Everything that made him Winston had gone. He had been reborn. And the first face Winston saw in this new life was O’Brien’s. O’Brien’s cruel yet kind face.

How could he not fall in love with a face such as that? The man who had given him this new identity, who had transformed him into a true member of the Party. Yes, a member of the beloved Party! This new Winston loved the Party, loved Big Brother, loved his new identity, thus loved O’Brien. It was then he realized his love for O’Brien.

At the time, he could not reveal it, of course. Even though his love for O’Brien stemmed from a love for all good in Oceania, the Party would not accept such an excuse. After all, it was certain that O’Brien didn’t have the same love for Winston as Winston did for him. O’Brien- he was a good person. He had only broken Winston because that was his job. That is what O’Brien did to all Thought criminals. He reformed all of them. Winston was not special in that sense. Although he was glad he had been reformed (how else could he have learned the true meaning of love?), he wished that O’Brien didn’t reform others. He wished O’Brien only had reformed him, for then Winston would be special. Then his redemption would show that O’Brien loved him.

But then, Winston supposed, O’Brien would not be O’Brien. He loved O’Brien for his kindness nested inside of his cruelty, for his determination to make the world right.

Once Winston realized his love for O’Brien, he knew he had to find a way to be with O’Brien for as much time as possible. O’Brien would call on him, and instead of lying to disguise his thoughtcrime he began lying to disguise his conformity.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” O’Brien asked.

“Four,” Winston replied.

“False, I am holding up five,” O’Brien corrected.

Indeed, Winston began to see five fingers. He was wrong the last time. But if he answered correctly, O’Brien would give him less attention. Winston wanted to occupy as much of O’Brien’s time as possible. He wanted as much attention from O’Brien as possible, even if it was negative. Because at least O’Brien would be watching him. He had to reform his expression, twist it so O’Brien would see hatred and anger instead of reverence and love. It pained him to do so, but it was not so painful as being ignored.

Of course, O’Brien was quite observant. He saw right through Winston’s ruse.

Roughly a week after the incident in Room 101 (time was hard to measure in the Ministry of Love, but that was his estimation), O’Brien was torturing Winston, as usual. What had been torture to Winston before had actually become rather enjoyable, for when O’Brien was slapping him, shoving him, kicking him, all of O’Brien’s attention was focused on Winston. Winston could see in O’Brien’s eyes that O’Brien’s mind was thinking of nothing but him.

As O’Brien’s Party-issued steel-tipped boot made contact with Winston’s chest, Winston’s carefully orchestrated mask of hatred slipped, and he instead smiled. O’Brien, ever attentive to Winston in their torture sessions, noticed this.

“Is that a smile I see?” O’Brien asked.

Winston realized his grave error, and affixed the furious expression back on his face, shaking his head fiercely.

O’Brien arched a dark eyebrow. “Are you lying to me?”

Once again, Winston shook his head. “No, I would never lie to you. I could never lie, I promise I’m not lying-” “Then are you saying I am wrong in my observation? Are you implying that I am incorrect?”

Winston’s thoughts raced. What could he say? He obviously could not say O’Brien’s observation was wrong, not when O’Brien knew it was right. But he didn’t want to admit the odd satisfaction O’Brien’s abuse gave him. Although perhaps if Winston said O’Brien was wrong, he’d be kicked even more… No, it was time to come clean.

“I’m sorry. I did lie to you, I’m so sorry, I did smile.” Winston was sobbing, his face in a real expression of anguish. O’Brien would now know that the torture wasn’t torture at all, he would realize that Winston wanted his attention, he would realize that Winston loved him, he would realize that the best way to hurt Winston would be to ignore him.

“I see.” O’Brien’s expression grew calculating. “Do you enjoy it when I torture you?”

Winston nodded, unable to form words because of the thick lump in his throat.

O’Brien drew his hand to his face in a thoughtful gesture, nodding to himself. “Yes, that seems right. I thought something had been a bit off this past week. I couldn’t pinpoint it, but yeah… That sounds about right. I’m going to ask you several questions, and I want you to answer honestly. If you lie, I will know.”

Winston’s head bobbed up and down. He had been stripped of all dignity that was left.

O’Brien held up three fingers. “I am holding up two fingers.” Suddenly, the third finger faded, being replaced by two. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Winston coughed, trying to clear his throat. He managed to croak out a “Two.”

“How many was I holding up originally?”

“Two.”

“Were you lying this past week to seem like a thoughtcriminal?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love the Party?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love Big Brother?” “Yes.”

“Do you love me?” “Yes.” Winston’s voice broke.

“I see. So you are not a thoughtcriminal at all, except in that you love me… This presents an interesting dilemma, for love toward any individual that is not Big Brother is forbidden. Might I ask why you love me?”

Winston was willing to explain his love, but how could he do so? He took a minute to gather his thoughts, for this was a topic he had long thought about in his hours alone. “Well, when you had emptied me of myself, when I had betrayed Julia, I transformed into a new person. I was reborn, and it was you who had formed me. How could I not revere you? How could I not love you? I loved Big Brother and the Party, and not only had you given me my love for them, but you also were them. How could I not love you?”

“Ah. Well, this leaves us with two options. You would either receive another torturer and they would reform you instead, or I could set you free.” “You would set me free?” There was hope- but then, freedom would only be freedom if O’Brien was there with him. Freedom was slavery to O’Brien. O’Brien’s war made for Winston’s peace. The world’s ignorance of his love made for strength.

“You do love Big Brother and the Party,” O’Brien said, “You are obviously loyal to the Party. I see no reason for why you would rebel, particularly if your love for me stems from your love for them.”

“But would I be separated from you, then?”

“Probably.”

“Then let me stay here. Let me have some other torturer, but let me stay here and possibly see you in the hallways. I would rather face abuse at another’s hands than let you fade from my life. I’ll take any contact. Anything. Just let me be in your life. Let you be in my life. Please, I beg of you. I’ll do anything.”

O’Brien gave Winston a wry smile, looking quite amused. “Well I suppose I should reward such devotion… Perhaps… hm, one of my assistants recently was arrested for thoughtcrime. It was quite a shame, but perhaps…”

Winston’s eyes brightened, his entire face hopeful.

“Yes, I’m in need of a new assistant. I wish there was someone I could hire… Someone who was dedicated to me and willing to indulge my whims. I’ve held off from hiring a new one due to my busy schedule, after all the Inner Party is quite a bit of work…”

“Could I be your assistant?”

O’Brien quirked his eyebrows in mock shock. Winston really did love those eyebrows. He loved all of O’Brien, of course, but those eyebrows in particular. “Wow, Winston. What a brilliant idea. Then, I will also be able to keep an eye on you in case you develop any… unorthodox thoughts or behaviors. Not that the Thought Police wouldn’t catch you anyway, but an extra pair of eyes could never hurt. Also, I’ll easily be able to punish you if necessary.”

“Thank you, oh thank you!” Winston gasped. He grasped at O’Brien's ankles.

O’Brien promptly shook him off. “I must send you back to your cell, I’m afraid. I’ll go through the process to release you, but in a few days or weeks, you will hopefully be serving me.”

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Guards were called in, and they dragged Winston back to his cell. Usually that caused him a good deal of pain as his bruises were deepened by the bumping along the hard tile, but he was far too happy with the outcome of the last session. Of course, he fastened his face into a numb expression again, so the guards didn’t suspect anything, but inside he was soaring, flying.

His time in the small prison used to make him miserable. Now, though, he had hope. He could be with O’Brien. He would be with O’Brien at all hours- or well, not all hours, but enough. It would be enough. And hopefully O’Brien would give him even more attention now. Maybe. Then again, O’Brien was a busy man… But now his life would be devoted to the three things he loved more than anything: Big Brother, the Party, and O’Brien.

A few days later, O’Brien was good on his word. Winston was released from the Ministry of Love. The Party member who released him explained that his apartment had been taken away and given to someone else, so he would have to go to O’Brien to find housing. This filled Winston with hope, for it probably meant he would be able to live near O’Brien.

The ride to O’Brien’s was filled with excitement. Neutralizing his expression had become second nature by then, but it was getting harder to do as his dream slowly was becoming reality. He had taken to clenching the cold metal of the subway’s pole tightly, siphoning all energy into his fist. When the subway finally halted at O’Brien’s stop, Winston just barely refrained from running to O’Brien’s apartment. Still, he managed to arrive at the apartment in only ten minutes.

He knocked on the door rapidly. O’Brien opened the door, welcoming him inside. It had been a long time since he went to O’Brien’s apartment, so he was surprised by how spacious it was.

“Hello again, Winston,” O’Brien said.

“Hi,” Winston replied.

“Alright, so as my assistant, you will have many responsibilities. You’ll need to clean, serve me, cook, and generally take care of any tasks I see fit to assign to you.”

“Okay!” Winston said eagerly, “I’ll do anything you want me to.”

“Anything? Alright, I look forward to seeing how this goes,” O’Brien replied, “Oh and please refer to me as ‘Sir.’”

“Yes sir,” Winston said, “What would you like me to do first?”

“My house needs a good cleaning. But first, let me show you your quarters before I go to the Ministry of Truth. I do have a job, you know.” O’Brien guided him to a room at the far back of the apartment.

The room was quite small, just barely enough space for a bed and dresser. But Winston had never loved another room more than this one. It was mere steps away from O’Brien’s.

“I need to go now, so I expect the entire apartment to be perfectly clean. The broom is in that closet over there, as are the rags.”

“Yes sir. When will you be back?” Winston asked.

“About seven hours from now.”

“Okay. Goodbye, sir, have a nice day at the Ministry.”

O’Brien smirked and walked out the door without a response.

Winston looked around the room. O’Brien was a very clean person, as Winston didn’t see a lot to clean. Still, O’Brien wanted the house perfect, and Winston was willing to oblige. Big Brother, the Party, and O’Brien deserve no less. He took the broom out of the closet, and started his sweeping in O’Brien’s room.

Cleaning was a tedious task. Winston had never been a fan of cleaning. His apartment- or rather, his previous apartment- was always quite dusty. However, if sweeping was the price Winston had to be with O’Brien, then so be it. Cleaning the apartment took a few hours, due to Winston’s intense determination for everything to be perfect. He cleaned it once, twice, three times, until at last O’Brien came back.

As O’Brien opened the door with a click, he raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise for an instant. It was only half a second before his face went back into the blankly austere look of the Inner Party, but Winston saw. O’Brien was pleased with his work. He had impressed O’Brien, even if just for a second.

It allowed Winston, just for a second, to imagine that O’Brien might love him back. Or at least, come to love him in time. Someday, perhaps, O’Brien would love Winston just as Winston loved him. Someday.

And just as this hopeful thought came into Winston’s mind, he saw O’Brien pull out a gun. O’Brien shot Winston at point-blank range. The bullet lodged in Winston’s heart. Winston fell, bleeding on the floor. O’Brien walked over to his desk, ignoring the dying body in his apartment. As Winston’s life bled out from him, his lips formed one final sentence.

“O’Brien, please, look at me.”

But O’Brien did not look.

#winbrien #george orwell #1984 #orwellian #orwell 1984 #orwell #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3fic #ao3 fanfic #also on ao3 #Winston is a simp #literature #english literature #english #books #british literature

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ashiversary · 4 years

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If We're Honest - Chapter 1

Read the full fic on ao3!

Blanche took a deep breath and straightened their jacket. Then they ran their hands over their hair to double check that it hadn’t gotten mussed when they were overseeing the introduction of a new shipment of Tentacool to one of Team Mystic’s training pools. It was the end of their first week on the job, and Professor Willow had summoned them to his office so that he could introduce them to the representatives from other teams.

Blanche had dreaded this meeting from the moment their assistant, Annie, had entered it in their schedule days ago. While they were capable of carrying out the duties required of their position, Blanche had an unfortunate but notable weakness with social interactions. Annie had worked under the previous Leader of Team Mystic prior to his retirement, and she stressed the importance of good relations between the teams to Blanche in preparation of this meeting. While there was a certain amount of rivalry encouraged between Teams Mystic, Instinct, and Valor, a lot of their research duties required cooperation. Team Instinct, for example, ran most of the hatcheries in the Opal Region, and had contacts with other hatcheries overseas where they could obtain rare pokemon. Therefore, Team Instinct’s cooperation was needed in order for Team Mystic to be supplied with new hatchlings for their research.

Annie had warned them of the type of backlog that could occur when relations were not good, as they had been until Leader Spark took the position with Instinct a handful of months ago.

As for Team Valor, their specialty was pokemon battling and combat. Some pokemon only evolved in battle, and while Mystic could do this themselves, Team Valor was the expert and results were often better when they assisted.

While Annie didn’t say so outright, she implied that Leader Candela of Valor was headstrong and hard to deal with.

It was time. Blanche knocked on the door. “Come in!” Professor Willow called from the other side.

Before Blanche could, the door was opened by a smiling blond man. “Hey! You must be Blanche. I’m Spark.” Blanche’s hand was seized and shaken. “Sorry for not dropping by Mystic HQ to say hi to you. I’m still new too, so there’s a lot to do.”

As he spoke, Spark pulled Blanche into the room by the hand he refused to let go of despite Blanche’s attempts to tug it free. “And here’s Candela!”

Spark gestured at the woman leaning against Professor Willow’s desk. Blanche took advantage of his distraction to yank their hand free.

“Hello! Don’t worry about Spark. He’s enthusiastic but harmless. Mostly, anyway.” Candela’s lips stretched in a grin like she knew something Blanche didn’t.

“I’m Blanche from Team Mystic. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you both,” Blanche said, slipping into formality to soothe their nerves.

Professor Willow smiled at Blanche. If they weren’t mistaken, he looked a bit harried - there were pens stuck behind both of his ears and his glasses were shoved to the top of his head. Blanche wondered if he knew.

“Blanche! Right on time. Thanks for coming,” he said with his warm smile. “Since everyone has been introduced, we can go over a few things…”

The meeting lasted for an hour. The three leaders exchanged contact information and discussed ongoing mutual projects that had been in the works since before Blanche was hired. Blanche took notes on their tablet, asked pointed questions, and was satisfied overall with how the meeting went. Of course they would rather be in the lab, but they understood that a leadership role required a certain amount of bureaucracy.

As the meeting wound to a close and Blanche gathered their things to leave, Spark’s hand clasped their shoulder. Blanche flinched - they had never been overfond of physical contact from anyone other than their twin. “What?”

“We should all have dinner together!” Spark said. His most characteristic expression, if this meeting was any indication, was a wide grin. It was on his face now. “Candy, you too. It’s good for team relations and stuff.”

Candela rolled her eyes at the nickname, but smiled. “Sure, Sparky,” she retorted.

If she intended to come across as rude, it didn’t seem Spark registered it that way. “Great! Whaddaya say, Blanche?”

Blanche brushed his hand from their shoulder. “Perhaps some other time.” Blanche knew that it was important to get along with the other team leaders, but they had used up all of their ‘socializing with new people energy’ to get through this meeting. “It’s still my first week, and I have a lot to get caught up on.”

“Aw, you’re not planning to work all weekend, are ya?” Spark frowned.

Candela laughed. “As if the both of us won’t be doing the same thing! I don’t think I’ve had a proper weekend in…” she counted on her fingers. “Four months?”

“Is that when Silas quit on ya?”

“Yeah. He left the catalogue system a disaster. Charles and I have been working on it whenever we have time, but there’s so much other work-”

While the other leaders were distracted, Blanche took the opportunity to duck out with a last nod to Professor Willow. The door clicked shut behind them, cutting Spark off mid-sentence.

Blanche held in their sigh of relief until they were alone in the elevator. Annie wanted Blanche to go home after the meeting. “Get a proper rest! We can’t have you burning out after your first week,” she’d said. But there was some work Blanche wanted to finish up. There was a clutch of Vaporeon that had evolved that morning, and Blanche planned to assess them in one of the training pools to calculate their stats. That counted as a break, right? They wouldn’t be at their desk.

But Annie, after knowing Blanche for a week, seemed able to predict them.

She was on the deck on the training pool tapping her foot when Blanche entered after changing into a rashguard and swim shorts. “I thought I sent you home,” Blanche said with a frown.

Annie’s hands were planted on her hips. “And I thought I told you not to come back after your meeting!”

Blanche grew up with a strong-willed twin and was not to be pushed around. “The Vaporeon need to be worked with while the evolution is still fresh, so that I can compare their performance now and track how it changes over the next few days and weeks.” As Blanche spoke, they marched past Annie and set the carry case that held the four pokeballs next to the pool. Annie turned to track their movements, but said nothing. “It is best done now. Besides, it relaxes me and I enjoy it.”

Blanche glanced back to see if Annie had further arguments, but she didn’t appear to have heard their arguments. Blanche paused in the act of removing a pokeball from the case. “Problem?”

Annie jolted and a strange look crossed her face. Blanche didn’t know what it meant, but before they could ask, it had been replaced with a sheepish smile. “Oh, no, not at all! I was just looking at your soulmark.” She bit her lip. “I didn’t realize you had one.”

“Oh.” Blanche released the first Vaporeon from its pokeball. It landed in the water with a splash and bobbed to the surface with a smug grin that reminded Blanche of their own Vaporeon, Sushi. Perhaps they could incorporate Sushi into the training later. “It’s not very interesting. Experts estimate that about 80% of the population has a soulmate.”

“I don’t. Have one, I mean.” Annie’s voice was quiet.

Blanche had been about to slip into the pool. At Annie’s words, they froze. They looked back. Her brown eyes were still locked on the complex star marked in blue on Blanche’s left calf. Ah. Their previous words had been inconsiderate. It hadn’t occurred to them that Annie might be among the 20% of people who did not have a soulmate. “I apologize. I didn’t mean-”

Annie was shaking her head. “It’s fine!” She smiled, but it was strained around the edges. “Can I see yours? If you don’t mind. I know some people are very private about them.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

Blanche extended their left leg a bit so that Annie could see better as she came over. She traced the swirls and geometric shapes inside the outline of the star with the tips of her fingers. Then, as though she just realized what she was doing, she snatched her hand away. “Sorry! I should have asked.”

“It’s fine. Are you done looking?” At Annie’s nod, Blanche withdrew their leg and swung into the pool. They tried to do it carefully, but some water still splashed up and soaked the edge of Annie’s coat. “Sorry.”

“No problem.” Annie said cross-legged at the edge of the pool without seeming to care about the water that lapped over the edge as Blanche clapped their hands to call the Vaporeon’s attention to them. It was frisking in the water and did not come when called.

“What’s your soulmate like?” Annie asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t met them.” The water was hip deep, and the Vaporeon swam away as Blanche waded toward it. Such mischief could be endearing, but not when there was work to be done. “Annie, please throw me one of the poffins in the case.”

Annie leaned over and pulled out the resealable plastic bag of poffins. “Which flavour?”

“It would seem it has an impish or naughty nature. Let’s try spicy to start.” Blanche caught the poffin Annie tossed them and waggled it at the Vaporeon. The pokemon poked its head above the water, nostrils flaring as it scented the treat. It drifted closer and licked its lips.

“If you want a reward, you must do as I say,” Blanche said as the Vaporeon rolled over to its back to attempt to charm Blanche out of the poffin.

“There are sites where you can post photos of your soulmark. They’re supposed to scan the pictures and find if someone else has posted the matching mark,” Annie said, watching as Blanche cajoled the uncooperative Vaporeon through its paces.

Blanche grimaced at the Vaporeon splashed them in the face as it made a grab for the treat. Blanche held it well out of reach and was unmoved by the Vaporeon’s whining and pitiful expression. “No, you haven’t earned it yet,” they scolded. To Annie they said, “I know. I’m not interested.”

After that Annie let the subject drop. Blanche wondered if they had been unkind again, telling her that they had no interest in finding their soulmate while knowing that she did not have one. But such things were personal. And she had been the one to bring up the subject in the first place.

Annie let Blanche go through all of the Vaporeon, but then she insisted that they go home. Maybe Blanche could have pushed the issue, but it didn’t seem worth it. Besides, they wanted to stop by the library on their way home. One of the holds they’d placed at the beginning of the week had come in, and they needed to pick it up.

It was an unpleasant surprise to find their twin, Noire, lounging against their motorcycle when they went down to the parking garage. Blanche stopped under one of the lamps and grimaced. Noire hadn’t noticed Blanche yet, so they had a moment to decide what to do.

Blanche loved their twin. Noire was one of the few people Blanche could say with certainty that they *did* love. The pair of them were found, battered and bruised, in an alley in Orre some 20 years ago with no memory of how they’d gotten there. They’d been inseparable ever since.

Well, until Blanche had decided to pursue a Bachelor’s degree and then acted as an assistant to Professor Oak for a couple years. Noire acted like that had been a huge betrayal, Blanche leaving Noire, and made no secret of the fact that they disapproved of Blanche’s life choices.

Since Noire had chosen to join Team Rocket and lead a life of organized crime, this was extra insulting.

There was no helping it. Blanche’s pushy assistant was doubtless still lurking to make sure that Blanche left the building. Noire had gotten comfortable on Blanche’s means of transportation. Blanche would have to remove them.

The echo of Blanche’s heels caught Noire’s attention and they sat up to watch Blanche approach. “What are you doing here, Noire?” Blanche asked once they were within hailing distance.

Noire rolled their eyes. “I came to see how the new job was going. You said you’d call me, and you never did. What, I’m good enough to help you move into your condo, but not good enough to chat with?”

Blanche winced. “I’m sorry. I got caught up and forgot.” It was the truth. That, and Blanche had gotten out of the habit of calling Noire after years of the silent treatment. Noire hadn’t taken Blanche’s defection from their guardians at Team Rocket well.

“Yeah, okay.” Noire pushed off Blanche’s bike and tucked their hands in the pockets of their slacks. “I just wanted to make sure the science-types hadn’t melted you in a vat of acid or something.”

“No, everything’s fine.” Blanche cursed their own vagueness. “Well. It’s going well.”

“Good. Where we going?”

“You don’t have a helmet.”

Noire nudged a helmet into view with their foot, then kicked it up and caught it. Out of arguments, Blanche put their own helmet on and swung their leg over their bike. They waited for Noire to put their own helmet on and settle behind them. Blanche never liked riding double, but Noire was the only one they’d make an exception for.

When they stopped at the library and pulled their helmets off, Blanche caught sight of Noire’s disgusted face. “What?”

“The library? *Seriously?*” Noire jogged up the steps after Blanche. “What century are we in? All this stuff is digital these days.”

“I prefer physical books.” Blanche held the door open so that Noire could follow them in. They automatically lowered their voice as they moved further into the library. “I also believe that it’s important to support local libraries as they provide important resources and services. Part of that support is checking out books.”

Noire was rolling their eyes at Blanche again, but Blanche turned their back and refused to look. They went to the holds shelf and found the books held under their name. As they tucked the books under their arm, they caught Noire bending and squinting to make out the title.

“Oh, it’s that trashy sci-fi series you like,” Noire said, losing interest as they straightened.

Offended, Blanche retorted, “I don’t make fun of you about your cheesy housewife dramas.”

Noire leveled them with a look. “Yeah, you do.”

Well, maybe they did, but Blanche wasn’t about to admit it. Instead they let Noire haul them out to dinner like they hadn’t allowed the other Team Leaders, and made polite conversation with Noire’s partner, Amelie.

Unlike Blanche, Noire cared about soulmates. And Amelie was theirs. The two of them met in the ranks of Team Rocket and now wrought havoc as a criminal power couple.

Blanche supposed that was a soulmate thing.

It was late by the time Blanche managed to squirm away and go home. Even so, they stayed up an extra hour (or two…) in order to start their book. They did not wait a week for it to not read it right away.

Blanche’s head buzzed with exhaustion when they hauled their butt to work the next morning. While they were not required to work weekends, Mystic Laboratories never truly closed. There was someone working on a project or writing a report or analyzing data at all hours on all days. Therefore, Blanche had decided to make it a priority to be at the labs for at least part of every day in case there was anything that needed their personal and immediate attention.

It was a good thing they did. Just before lunch, which Blanche wasn’t intending to take anyway, one of the techs knocked on the door to Blanche’s office and burst in without waiting for a response. “Leader Blanche!” she blurted out before Blanche could tell her not to do that in the future. “We just heard that the shipment of Snom eggs from Instinct is being delivered now instead of Monday.”

“What?” Blanche’s hands froze on their keyboard. They checked their schedule. Damn it. That shipment wasn’t scheduled to arrive until Monday at 2 p.m. “Why now?”

“Leader Spark says that the eggs are about to hatch. As our project requires newly-hatched Snom, waiting two days to send them to us could skew our results. Leader Spark is delivering them personally and should be here in about ten minutes.” The woman fidgeted as she talked. Her anxiety was unnecessary. Blanche wasn’t going to scold her because something urgent cropped up. That was the nature of this profession, sometimes.

Blanche stood and grabbed their jacket off the back of their desk chair. “Understood. I’ll go meet him and get the Snom settled in.” There was no choice. Although there was always someone here, it was a skeleton crew on weekends. Even Team Mystic liked their weekends.

By the time Blanche arrived, Spark and another trainer in Team Instinct yellow were unloading incubators of eggs from the back of a panel van. Spark spotted Blanche and grinned. It was a sunny expression that suited his golden blond hair and sky blue eyes. Blanche couldn’t return it, though. Such expressions weren’t in their nature.

“Heya, Blanche! Sorry for the change in schedule. But the babies hatch when they’re gonna hatch, and there’s nothing humans can do about it.” Spark passed the last incubator to his assistant and jumped down.

The greeting was informal for Blanche’s tastes, but they let it go. Team relations were important, and Spark had held the position of Team Leader longer than Blanche had. It would be presumptuous to scold him after only a week at the post. “That’s fine. Thank you for bringing them so promptly,” Blanche said instead. They bent to inspect one of the eggs through the clear glass of the incubator. A visual exam revealed nothing, but Blanche was not the expert in pokemon breeding. They would have to take Spark’s word for it that they would hatch soon.

“When do you believe that they will hatch?” Blanche assumed that it must be today or he wouldn’t have brought them in such a hurry.

“Oh, within the next half hour, for sure.” Spark’s easy reply filled Blanche with horror. They weren’t set up for the hatchling Snom yet.

“Annie!” Blanche called. She was never far. Sure enough, her head popped around the corner.

“Yes, Chief?”

“We need the terrariums set up for twelve hatchling Snom. Time is of the essence.”

“Got it!” She gave a salute and vanished.

The tech fetched a cart and they loaded the incubators onto it. Spark hung around, and even though he told his assistant to head out, the young man in yellow stayed as well. When Blanche asked, Spark said that he wanted to make sure the eggs were settled in and hatched safely. Blanche didn’t like the sensation of being hovered over but could not fault him for wanting to see a task through to completion.

The cooing, however, baffled them.

“There we go, baby, let’s get you all settled in,” Spark crooned to the eggs as he got the incubators settled in the room designated for them. “There, see, all nice and warm. What good babies.”

Blanche was embarrassed just listening to it, but they continued to organize the terrariums for the Snom when they hatched and coordinated contacting the Mystic scientists in charge of the Snom project and telling them they needed to come in. It was easier to pretend they couldn’t hear when they had so much to do.

But it was amazing to watch a baby pokemon come into the world. Two of the researchers arrived just in time to record the data, so Blanche set their tablet down and leaned back to witness the miracle now that they were not required to be the one to document it.

The shells cracked and Snom crawled out one by one. Without disturbing the newborn pokemon, Spark reached in to hit the release on the incubators. The glass slid open and it wasn’t long before the hatchlings crept out of their incubators to explore.

The terrarium was set up as a natural Snom habitat with non-intrusive dividers so that each pair of Snom was kept separate from the others for control purposes. But there were leaves for them to chew on and branches to climb.

Spark lifted out the incubators as the Snom vacated them and set them on the floor. “Go, can you go load these back up in the truck?” he asked his assistant. If not for Spark’s cheeky grin, Blanche may have missed the pun. But from the look of tired exasperation on Go’s face, this type of joke was not uncommon.

“Got it. You want me to wait for you?”

“Nah, I can find my own way back.”

Once Go and his cart of incubators had gone, Spark turned to Blanche with the grin that they were starting to become familiar with. “Have you had lunch yet?”

Blanche wasn’t expecting that question and answered honestly on reflex. “No.”

“Great! It looks like your people have things under control here.” Spark gestured at the techs bustling around the terrariums. “How about we go grab a bite to eat? My treat.”

Blanche wanted to refuse. They had so much to do! But Spark had done them a favour by personally arranging to bring the Snom to Team Mystic two days ahead of schedule. An hour or so of team bonding wasn’t such a bad trade off. “Did you have a place in mind?”

Spark’s grin broadened. “Yeah! You good with spicy food? There’s this Unovan place me and Candy go to all the time. It’s so good.”

“Spicy food is fine.”

There was just enough time for Blanche to shove their tablet into Annie’s arms and inform her that they were taking their lunch break before Spark slung his arm around Blanche’s neck and steered them out the door. When they were on the first floor crossing the reception area through the door, the whispers started.

“Look. It’s the Rocket brat.”

“What? How can a former Team Rocket member be allowed into the Go Program?”

“They need to up their background checks for this place. They’re letting all kinds of scum in.”

Blanche flinched. Their shoulders stiffened, and their hands formed fists at their sides. Ah, so it had gotten out already. Blanche forced themself to take a deep breath. Well, it didn’t matter. Let them talk. Blanche had dealt with stares and whispers often since leaving the care of Rocket Executive Sabrina.

Spark stopped dead in the middle of the reception area with his arm still looped around Blanche’s shoulders. In an instant his grin had vanished to be replaced with a stone-eyed stare. Blanche flinched again, intimidated despite themself.

“You wanna come over here and say that shit?” Spark said, voice low and dangerous.

The reception area went dead quiet. Nobody moved.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. C’mon, Blanche.”

Despite their resolve that it didn’t matter, Blanche’s hands were shaking when they made it onto the sidewalk. “I must apologize,” they said, pulling away from Spark’s arm but sticking close to him on the sidewalk. He sent them a puzzled look, but Blanche continued staring straight ahead. “It’s true that I was raised by Team Rocket, but I left the organization when I was a teenager. I-”

“Blanche.” Spark stopped. Blanche continued for a few steps before they stopped and turned to look at him questioningly. Spark’s face was uncharacteristically serious. “They were talking about *me.*”

“What?”

Spark shrugged like it was no big deal. Maybe to him it wasn’t. “My parents died in a raid Team Rocket was involved in. There’ve been rumours since I was a kid that they were part of Team Rocket. I was raised by my Uncle Surge, who is a member of Team Rocket. People say all kinds of shit about it.”

“Oh.” He was an orphan, like them, who had been taken in by Team Rocket. In his case it had been an actual family member, but Blanche supposed it amounted to the same thing.

Spark was still standing in the middle of the sidewalk. “So…?”

“So?”

“We still gonna have lunch?”

“Yes? I am waiting for you,” Blanche said, confused. “I don’t know where the restaurant is.”

Spark looked startled for a moment. Then his grin reappeared, slowly and full of relief. “Okay. Follow me.”

The restaurant was a cozy family-owned affair. The staff greeted Spark by name and asked who his ‘new friend’ was as they led them to a table. Blanche let Spark handle the social pleasantries and browsed the menu. As Spark had warned, most of the available fare was spicy. But Blanche could handle spicy.

“What do you recommend?” Blanche asked once the server left them.

“Oh, the curry for sure. It’s amazing.” Spark leaned over to point to the appropriate section of the menu. “They’ve got a few options depending on what flavours you like and your tolerance for spice.”

“All right.” Blanche decided to try the green curry and set their menu aside. Spark was a regular at this restaurant and already knew what he wanted. While their orders were sent to the kitchen and the server brought them tea, Blanche and Spark made small talk.

“You’re not from Opal, right? Have you settled into your place?” Spark asked.

“Yes. I’m from- well.” Blanche stopped, sighed, and rephrased. “Originally I’m from Orre, but I don’t remember it very well. I grew up in Kanto. Opal seems quite different, but I like it so far.”

“Hey, I grew up in Kanto too!” Spark leaned forward in excitement. “Where abouts are you from?”

“Saffron City.”

“Ahhh. I’m from Vermilion City. Man, we grew up so close together. Small world, huh?”

“Indeed.” Blanche sipped their tea.

“Did your wife come with you?”

Blanche choked, slapping a hand over their mouth to keep from spewing tea everywhere. “My what?”

Spark looked confused. “Your wife? The short, busty redhead? I’m sure I’ve seen you two together before.”

Ohhhh. “That’s Amelie,” Blanche said, grabbing a napkin to clean up their mess. “She’s not my wife. She’s the soulmate of my twin, Noire.”

“Oh!” Spark’s eyes went wide. “There’s two of you?”

“No. There is one of me, and one of Noire.” Blanche didn’t quite keep the impatience out of their voice. They glared when Spark laughed. The server looked between them curiously when she set down their steaming plates of food, but she seemed to know better than to ask.

“Sorry. You get that a lot, huh?”

“Yes,” said Blanche with emphasis.

“Sorry.” There was a brief silence. Blanche wondered if they had offended Spark, but sampled their curry while they waited for him to speak. It was delicious.

“What about you?” Spark asked. Seeing from Blanche’s questioning look that they didn’t know what he meant, he elaborated. “Do you have a soulmate?”

This conversation again. Soulmates seemed to be all anyone ever wanted to talk about. “I have a mark. I have not met the person who bears the same one.” They hoped that would be enough to shut down the conversation, but it was not.

“I haven’t met mine either,” Spark said, and took a generous bite of his own curry. His face flushed from the heat, but he didn’t seem to mind the spice. Then his eyes lit and he leaned across the table again. “Hey! Can I see your mark?”

“No.” Blanche was startled into instant and complete refusal. It wasn’t even as though they viewed their mark as private like some did - after all, they hadn’t minded Annie seeing it. But people usually saw it by chance rather than asking boldly like this.

“Why?” Spark’s head tilted like a bird. “Is it somewhere private?”

“No.” Blanche didn’t want him assuming it was on their butt or something either. “It’s on my leg.”

“Really? Mine too!” Spark seemed pleased. “Which leg?”

“…My left.”

“Okay, now you’ve gotta show me,” Spark said.

Blanche almost asked why, but then realized. His mark must be on his left leg too. Oh no. This was awkward. But they were being ridiculous. There were only so many places for a mark to appear - with the billions of people in the world, there had to be thousands upon thousands whose soulmark was on their left leg. There was no need to jump to conclusions. “I-”

“Wait, scratch that. If you’re not comfortable, I can just show you mine. You can tell me if it matches, ‘kay?”

Blanche nodded. Their throat was too tight to speak.

Spark braced his left ankle on his right knee and began to roll up his pant leg. It took an agonizing amount of time because Spark liked his pants tight. In the meantime, Blanche waffled between wanting to know and wanting to get up and run. It couldn’t be Spark. It would be too much of a coincidence.

But the bottom of the design became visible on Spark’s calf as he continued to work his tight leather pant leg up, swearing under his breath. Blanche recognized the bottom point of the star, the same one that had appeared on their own leg when they were fifteen. They had gone off to college, early, because they’d been home schooled by tutors Sabrina hired, and it was their first night in the dorm. Their first night away from Noire.

The mark hadn’t been there when they left home, but it was there when they got out of the shower to get ready for bed that night. Blanche saw it and stared in disbelief before they collapsed on the floor sobbing. No. They couldn’t have a soulmate. They weren’t even sure if they were human. They didn’t remember enough to know if they weren’t.

It had shocked them to be so devastated by the mark. Noire’s soulmark had appeared on their bicep three years earlier and it hadn’t been horrible. True, Blanche had been a little jealous that someone else was going to be the closest person to Noire, but that was part of growing up.

The feelings had dulled over the years, but had never disappeared.

The mark on Spark’s calf was fully visible now. There was no mistake.

“It matches,” Blanche said when Spark looked at them. They hoped their anguish didn’t show in their face or voice.

Something must show, because rather than beaming or grabbing them, Spark laid a gentle hand over theirs. “Want a ride home? We don’t gotta talk about it now if you don’t want to.”

“Thank you.”

It was testament to Blanche’s state of mind that Spark managed to get away with paying the whole bill. Although it was an awkward ride home in Spark’s jeep, Blanche wasn’t sure they could control their motorcycle in their emotional state.

When they arrived, Spark offered to walk them up. Blanche declined. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.” They hesitated before closing the Jeep door. Spark seemed like a good man. They didn’t want to leave him hurt, as he must be knowing that Blanche was not thrilled. “Thank you again, Spark. And I’m sorry. I’m not upset that it’s you, it’s just…”

Spark smiled at them. “Hey, it’s okay.” He couldn’t pat their hand while sitting in the driver’s seat with them standing on the sidewalk, but his fingers twitched like he wanted to. “These things are personal, so it’s emotionally-charged for a lot of people. Don’t worry about me, ‘kay? We’ll talk another time.”

“All right.” Blanche let the door fall closed. Spark didn’t drive away until Blanche had unlocked the front door to the condo building and closed it behind them. He was a good guy, Blanche thought again.

Blanche just wasn’t sure if they were a good enough person to deserve him.

#Pokemon Go #Ashiversary #chiiwifruit #submission #fanfiction #Blanche #Spark #Candela #Team Mystic #Team Instinct #Team Valor #If We're Honest

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sennaleee · 4 years

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(Heyo, here’s a P5 Akira/Akechi omo fic that I wrote entirely for myself despite having a ridiculous number of requests for different things please don’t kill me. ;~; I have a HUGE note regarding my thoughts about timeline, my opinions on these characters and their relationship, and other things, but it was such a Long Explanation that I didn’t want it at the beginning of the fic. If that’s something that interests you, please scroll all the way to the bottom of the fic for that!

Short version with the most important stuff: This ain’t a shippy fic, but I do ship Akechi/Protagonist and like Akechi as a character despite him being a villain. Based on timeline, Akechi is suspicious Akira is a Phantom Thief but doesn’t know for sure, and Akira hasn’t yet figured out that Akechi knows about the metaverse and is a persona user (probs takes place between Kuneshiro’s and Futaba’s palaces, but exact date doesn’t really matter). There are no spoilers for P5 Royal in this fic.

Also gotta admit this is 100% self-indulgent nonsense, so if you're looking for something Deep and unquestionably In Character, this probably ain't it. Honestly, I just wanted to get back onto the writing train, and doing something entirely for myself was the best way to do that lololol. (also upon rereading this to edit, I realize that Akechi is entirely ooc whoops please just accept this for what it is because I don’t want to rewrite it when it’s literally a kink fic)

This fic was inspired by this post.

Fic contains omorashi. Also a note that this is somewhat different from my usual stuff in that there’s a lot more focus on the relief than the desperation, which I blame on point of view. Anyway. I’ll stop talking now and let you get to the actual fic lol.

-----

“Oh, you're back.” Sojiro's usual drawl as he stood behind the counter was expected. What was not so expected was the detective prince seated primly at said counter, an empty mug in front of him and a book held open by his gloved hands.

“Out a bit late today, eh? I'll leave closing the store to you then,” Sojiro said without waiting for a reply, replacing his apron with his jacket and giving Akira a short wave as he headed out. There weren't any other customers, and Akira really had been out late – Ryuji had wanted to train, and afterwards Akira had run into Ann when he’d made a stop in Shibuya’s underground mall. Glancing at his phone, he noted that it was technically past closing time already, and was surprised Sojiro hadn't given him more of a talking-to, not to mention he hadn't said so much as a word about Akechi having to leave Leblanc.

Speaking of Akechi ...

Akira flipped the sign to 'closed,' not wanting to risk having to deal with any more late customers wandering in.

“Come here often?” he joked, pleased when Akechi rolled his eyes and closed the book, setting it aside.

“Good evening, Kurusu-kun. You're back much later than usual today.”

Shrugging, Akira dropped his schoolbag on a booth, only giving Morgana a cursory glance as he hopped out of said bag and stalked up the stairs, throwing a disapproving glare over his shoulder. Akira went behind the counter to grab Akechi's mug, giving the inside a quick look, deeming it clean enough before refilling it with what he knew was Akechi's favored coffee blend.

“Yeah, one of my friends likes running, so I offered to run with him. My other friend likes talking, and I ran into her on the way home.” Akira put the now-full mug back in front of Akechi with an exaggerated bow before going about preparing a coffee for himself.

“Ah, isn't it past closing? I did want to talk with you today, but I'm sure you have more important things to be doing,” Akechi said, even as he rose from his seat, grabbing his briefcase from where it was set on the chair next to him.

“Don't worry; if Sojiro wanted you gone, he would've said. Stay as long as you like. Besides, I just refilled your coffee – be a bit rude if you rushed off now.” Akira gave Akechi a narrow-eyed smirk, just daring him to do something deemed 'rude.'

“As long as I'm not causing you any inconvenience,” Akechi said slowly, though he made no move to sit back down. “If you'll excuse me, I'm going to use the restroom, and then we can talk as long as you'd like.”

“Oh, wait, sorry,” Akira said. “Toilet's out of order currently. Sojiro promised me he'd get a plumber in sometime tomorrow.”

Akechi stopped from where he was halfway to the restroom, turning abruptly toward Akira with a single eyebrow raised. “Kurusu, don't you live here?”

“There's a public bathhouse across the street,” Akira shrugged. “Works well enough for emergencies. Otherwise I'm usually only here to sleep anyway.” Watching as Akechi's eyes darted for the slightest of moments toward Leblanc's exit, Akira continued, “I can walk you over there if you need?”

“No, that won't be necessary,” Akechi was quick to answer, returning to his chair and immediately reaching for his coffee, taking a long drink.

“Suit yourself. It's no problem.”

“I can assure you there is no need.”

Holding back an exasperated sigh, Akira instead walked around the counter and very deliberately moved Akechi's briefcase off of its chair and onto the booth next to Akira's own bag, ignoring Akechi's token protest. Plopping down in the now vacated chair, Akira folded his hands around his own coffee cup and smiled at Akechi. “So, Akechi-kun, what is it you wanted to discuss today?”

---

It had stayed in the back of his mind throughout the rest of the evening and later into the night. Sure, Akechi hadn't mentioned the restroom again, but there were the tiniest of tells – he was crossing and uncrossing his legs just a tad more than he would normally, he was twitching his foot up and down whereas he tended to sit completely still, it was taking him a good hour to get through this third cup of coffee when he could usually down them in no more than thirty minutes, even while talking to Akira throughout.

Akira wasn't focusing on Akechi's sure need of the restroom. It was more a curiosity, wondering why he didn't just give in and use the toilet in the bathhouse when obviously Akira was aware he'd needed to go for some time, but Akechi was nothing if not stubborn.

They jumped from topic to topic throughout the night: What restaurants Akechi had visited recently, what Akira had been doing with his friends, how both of them were doing in school, plans for the upcoming summer break, and of course, the all-consuming topic of the Phantom Thieves. Granted, as soon as Akechi started asking the more probing questions, Akira redirected toward Akechi's more recent interviews, charmed to watch Akechi scowl for just a moment before plastering that pleasant grin back on.

Akechi didn't stumble or stutter or lose track of his words. He kept sipping on his coffee, albeit at a slower pace, while Akira watched on.

It felt like no time at all before Akechi glanced at his phone and gave a start. “Ah, it's getting quite late! I really must get to the station before the trains stop for the night. Thank you for indulging me, Kurusu-kun.”

“Pfft, how many times have I told you not to thank me? I like talking to you, idiot.”

“No need to be rude,” Akechi softened his scolding with a smirk, eyes sharp as they looked up at Akira from under his bangs.

“Oh, I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you by walking you to the station.”

“Thank you, but that's really not necessary,” Akechi was quick to say.

“It is -” Akira stopped to dramatically pull his phone out of his pocket to check the time, “- 11:47 at night. As safe as Yongen-Jaya is, I refuse to give up on chivalry and stay here while the Detective Prince himself walks alone to the train station.”

“If you insist. I suppose it wouldn't exactly be 'princely' of me to argue.” Akechi's smile was more obviously forced than Akira had seen before, and he could swear he saw Akechi's left eye twitch before he turned toward the door and made his way toward it.

“Hey, Akechi?”

“Yes? I don't want to miss the last train, Kurusu,” Akechi said.

“Yeah, I know. I only thought that you wouldn't want to forget your briefcase.”

Akira took great humor in watching how quickly Akechi's back straightened, arms stiffening at his sides in what Akira assumed was embarrassment.

“Of course. Thank you, Kurusu-kun.”

Carefully locking Leblanc's door behind him, Akira smirked to himself when he realized Akechi had already started making his way toward the station without him. His gait was no faster than usual, and Akira doubted he would've known anything was wrong without his much earlier clue.

“Hey, wait up! The station's not even a five minute walk away. I promise you're not going to miss your train,” Akira called, jogging a few steps to catch up.

“My apologies. I simply don't want to risk the possibility of becoming stranded here overnight. After all, it would do nothing for my reputation if it were to come out that I spent the night in a Yongen train station.”

“Don't be ridiculous. If you miss the train, you're coming back to Leblanc.”

Akechi looked over in shock at that, eyes wide and mouth open as if he were about to retort, yet no words came.

“I don't know why you're so surprised. What sort of friend would I be leaving you to fend for yourself? You wound me, Akechi, truly.” Akira clutched at his chest, dramatically throwing his head back in faux-distress.

“Be serious,” Akechi scowled, continuing his steady march toward the station.

---

The last train for Shibuya left Yongen at midnight exactly. The big clock on the station wall informed them that it was currently 11:56.

Gesturing toward this clock, Akira said, “See, plenty of time to make your train. I can't believe you doubted me.”

“Yes, wonderful job, you correctly estimated the amount of time it takes to walk from your own home to the train station you frequent.”

“No need for sarcasm. A simple 'thank you' will suffice just fine.”

“Oh, thank you, my hero, Kurusu Akira. Now that I'm at the train station, I assure you I'll be able to make it to Shibuya on my own. No need for you to stay with me.”

“Come on, Akechi, it's only four minutes. I'm convinced you want to be rid of me.”

“Four minutes...” Akechi looked at the clock before looking down at the floor for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. He glanced once more at the clock, once toward the train tracks, then before Akira even knew what was happening, Akechi was off like a shot. He wasn't quite running, but his long strides were moving him through the station at an impressive pace.

Akira took only a moment to watch after him in shock before taking off at a swift jog to catch up with him.

“Akechi, what—”

“Please excuse me, Kurusu-kun,” Akechi said in a strained voice before abruptly pushing through a door. Akira, still chasing after him, entered right behind.

He shouldn't have been surprised to be faced with a restroom. It was small with only a toilet and a sink with no actual stalls, likely due to the Yongen-Jaya station itself not servicing too large of a crowd on the daily. Sure, he shouldn't have been surprised – Akechi had made clear his need for a restroom literal hours ago, and he'd had three cups of coffee since then, but Akira still couldn't wrap his head around Akechi being so desperate as to run away from him to get to a bathroom. Sure, there had been small tells throughout the night – just that much more fidgeting, that much more tightness in his facial expressions, but if Akira hadn't been looking for these things, he certainly wouldn’t have noticed them.

As it was, Akechi wasn't even bothering to wait for Akira to leave, instead dropping his briefcase on the floor and working on undoing his pants even as he was still walking toward the toilet.

There was no way he was unaware Akira had followed him into the bathroom. Apparently, his desperation was so great that he simply didn't care. Akira would've left. He wished he could've left, but as Akechi would've been in direct view of the door had Akira opened it, he didn't dare, instead reaching over and locking the door to prevent anyone else from bursting in.

Looking away would've been, at that point, the correct thing to do. However, the situation itself was so bizarre that Akira felt frozen in place. Frozen and staring as Akechi managed to pull himself out, already obviously dripping even before he managed to aim at the toilet. He was biting his lip and Akira could see, even from across the room, that Akechi's hands were trembling as he aimed and then he was peeing and wow Akira didn't want to be impressed, especially in what was clearly supposed to be a private moment, but the force of the stream was like a goddamned firehose.

The immediate relief was obvious on Akechi's face, his expression relaxing for the first time all night. His eyes drifted closed and his mouth went slack as he let out tiny sighs and cut off moans.

Akira was still frozen, staring, unable to pull his eyes away from the blissful relief apparent on Akechi's face. He could feel his own face flaming in a blush. The sounds alone would've been embarrassing enough, the harsh splashing and the sighing that was only slightly quieter now that Akechi was biting his bottom lip.

To Akira, the moment lasted eons. It seemed neverending in both the worst and best of ways, but truly it couldn't have been longer than a minute when the force of Akechi's stream finally began to wane, the liquid exiting slower and slower until it tapered to a stop. Akechi had turned his face away now, as he tucked himself back into his pants, flushed the toilet, and strode to the sink, taking his time washing his hands and decidedly not meeting Akira's gaze in the mirror. Not that Akira wanted to. At least, he didn't think he did. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to meet Akechi's eyes again after that display.

Once finished washing up, Akechi stayed facing away from Akira.

“You can leave now, Kurusu.” Akira had expected his tone to be darker, angrier, but all he could hear was a bone-deep exhaustion mixed with … was that sadness? Embarrassment? Disgust?

Unfortunately, reacting to unexpected situations such as this was not Akira's forte.

“Uhhh. Wow. that looked like it felt good.” Great, Akira, shove your foot right into your mouth, amazing job there.

“Please just go,” Akechi groaned, covering his face with both hands.

“So actually … You know how Leblanc's toilet is out of order?”

“...Obviously.”

“I definitely have to go now. Mostly out of sympathy for you, but—”

“Would you—ugh,” Akechi growled, face still buried in his palms. “Fine. Fine. I will be the one to leave.” Akechi spun around and all but leaped toward his bag, holding it very conspicuously in front of his crotch as soon as he grabbed it, but it was too late. Akira had definitely seen a small dark patch just to the right of Akechi's zipper, made all the more obvious by the light tan color of Akechi's pants. He strode to the door, trying to yank it open and quickly realized that it was, in fact, locked.

Akira choked on a laugh, the ridiculousness of the past five minutes fully catching up to him. He desperately hoped Akechi hadn't noticed – laughing at him was the worst way of getting Akechi to keep spending time with him, Akira knew. Thankfully, if Akechi had noticed, he didn't acknowledge it as he unlocked the door and let himself out at last.

It only took Akira himself a few minutes to finish in the restroom, even though he took his time, knowing that Akechi had surely left for Shibuya already. So, it was to Akira's immense surprise when he left the bathroom only to see a familiar figure sitting against the wall, knees pulled to his chest with his head pressed into them.

“Akechi?”

“... I may have missed the last train.”

Akira glanced at the clock. 12:08. Apparently Akechi getting his relief did take as long as it seemed...

"At least you already have a back-up plan,” Akira said, grabbing Akechi's briefcase before offering him a hand up. Lifting his head, Akechi fixed him with a glare.

“And if I refuse?”

“You won't refuse. Besides, there's a laundromat right next to that bathhouse I mentioned earlier. I'll throw in your pants for you so you won't have to travel with a stain tomorrow.”

“Would you shut up?” Akechi hissed, but he seemed too tired to put any true venom behind his words.

“Come on, I'll lend you my spare pajamas.”

Without another word, Akechi finally took Akira's hand and rose to his feet.

“I will warn you, Morgana may act very offended by you staying the night.”

“I'll be sure to apologize to him for invading his space then,” Akechi murmured as the two boys left the station and began retracing their earlier path walking side by side.

Akira snorted and bumped his shoulder gently against Akechi's. “Hey, if Morgana wants to stay with me, he's going to have to get used to you being around.”

Akechi's breath caught and he didn't answer, though a quick glance over revealed his cheeks dusted light pink.

---

An hour later found Akira and Akechi both finally ready to sleep after having made a late-night laundry run and settled onto the bed and couch respectively. Morgana, surprisingly, had already been fast asleep when the boys arrived and they were respectful and quiet so as not to disturb him. Akira was sure he'd get an earful about his unexpected guest tomorrow, but at the moment, he wasn't in the mood for a lecture.

“Sleep well, Akechi. And please, if you have to use the restroom during the night, don't hesitate to wake me. It's no trouble to show you to the bathhouse,” Akira said, only partly doing so to push Akechi's buttons.

He could swear he could hear the blush in Akechi's words as he replied, “Thank you, Kurusu-kun. I'll be sure to do so.”

-----

(K, so here’s the super long note I promised at the beginning of this fic. I copy/pasted verbatim from how I had originally written it, so if things seem redundant, whoops sorry.

Full disclosure: I am a die-hard Akechi/Protag shipper and I will not apologize for that. I don't think I made this shippy at all, but I know Akechi is a polarizing character, so I want to make y'all aware that it was a dirty Akechi stan who wrote this. I just think he's an interesting character and I am very sympathetic to him okay don't judge meeeeee. I couldn't remember exactly when Akechi first started going to Leblanc in the actual game, so the timeline is kind of skirted around, but I imagine this to take place after Makoto joins the team but before Futaba contacts them. I know, I know, no one cares about The Lore on a kink fic, but it makes me happy to think about it, and it is also more important in this case because of the following:

The way Akira and Akechi act toward each other is heavily based off of where they are in the timeline + how I interpret canon events (I refuse to say headcanons because I can defend why I think this). Basically, I feel there's strong evidence that despite suspecting Akira to be a Phantom Thief, Akechi didn't truly know he was until Okumura's palace. I also feel that there is even stronger evidence that Akira and Morgana didn't realize Akechi was a persona user until the school fair event that occurred after Okumura's palace. Yes, the event that allowed them to figure this out happens significantly earlier, but there's nothing pointing toward either of them actually figuring it out until the school fair. Please keep this in mind when reading, as this 'headcanon' of mine definitely affects how I write them interacting with each other. I realize that may be confusing, since I think there's some discrepancy as far as interpretation goes around these events and when they truly happened, but this is how I interpreted the game.

Also in regards to the very ending of this fic: Didn’t add this part in because it would’ve dragged for really no reason, but my thoughts on what happens the next morning is that Akechi is naturally an early riser and gets up earlier than both Morgana and Akira and sneaks out so he doesn’t have to face Akira again, which is how we can skirt around the little issue of ‘Akechi can understand Morgana talking.’ Sojiro is definitely in Leblanc already when Akechi leaves. There is awkward eye contact, but neither of them say anything, and Sojiro vows to never bring it up to Akira. (He definitely brings it up to Akira later that same day.))

#omorashi #omocute #fandomo #fictomo #p5 omo #akechi omo #omo fic #p5 has basically taken over my life since i got royal whoops #sorry to any of the people who requested things 573819507318 years ago and still haven't received them #*shakes fist at sky* one day they'll be done #until then i hope you enjoy this self-indulgent mess thanks bye

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frenchy-and-the-sea · 4 years

Text

SC - Family Ties

Well that last upload was a huge bust so I APOLOGIZE but I’m putting it out again. This is in response to a prompt ask by the lovely @rufinagertrude SORRY FOR THE DOUBLE POST.

A mostly-direct sequel to this piece, 3078 words, set after that very uncomfortable conversation between Alex and her father.

-----

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” said Alex, for the third time in almost as many hours.

She and Tahir stood at the edge of a sagging little homestead just past the edge of Poole’s city limits, watching the door from the safety of its meandering fenceline. Alex had cut them a path from harborside at a pace just shy of jogging, and put the city’s crowded boulevards behind them in less than an hour. Now she stood motionless at the gate, frozen, her hands gripped around two of the pickets with enough force to turn her knuckles white.

“He might not be home,” Tahir said after a moment, nudging her gently with an elbow. “He’s got a business of some manner, doesn’t he? It might even keep him away sometimes.”

“As likely as I am to be named the next king of England,” Alex muttered, but something about the words loosened her grip on the fence posts. She took a deep breath, then squared her shoulders and prodded the gate beside them open with the toe of her boot.

“Stay behind me,” she warned Tahir as she slipped in ahead of him. “They’re like to frighten if you appear on their doorstep unannounced.”

Tahir snorted. “The captain flatters me with his kind regard of my appearance.”

“Oh, belay all of that.” The look she spared him over a shoulder was half apologetic, half wry. “You know I mean it as a slight against their delicate sensibilities more than any aspect of yours."

“So you do mean some slight against me, then?”

Alex rolled her eyes, but Tahir caught the edges of a smile on her lips as she turned away.

The lane leading up to the house with a trim little thing, overgrown near the edges like whoever tended it couldn’t be bothered to finish their job. The same was true of most of the lawn, in fact; Tahir could see the edges of flower beds and half-grown vegetable patches peeking out from between tufts of grass, of wildflowers, of weeds. It folded back into something near-groomed as they drew closer to the house, but Tahir thought that was more the work of the pair of goats lingering near the fenceline than anything their owners had managed. He opened his mouth to say so, but one look at Alex told him that if she had noticed it at all, she wasn’t ready to do much more than turn on her heel and sprint back into the city.

She stopped a few feet away from the door, her shoulders as stiff and rigid as stone.

“We’re not staying,” she said after a moment, turning over her shoulder to pin Tahir with a glare like she expected him to argue. “Politeness and the like can hang. If they offer coffee, or dinner, or anything else -”

“Then I shall remind you of some pressing horseshit that needs your tending,” Tahir finished with a roll of his eyes. “Take heart, Alex. There’s not a thing on God’s green Earth that I want less than to find out where you’ve gotten your sense of taste.”

Alex blinked, and Tahir watched as her face flashed with a brief panoramic of emotions; offense, relief, confusion, a bright, powerful something almost like pride that lingered for a split second too long to hide. Then she huffed, and combed them all back into a drab little smile.

"And here I didn’t imagine something as simple as taste could stop you from eating clear through anyone’s larder.”

Tahir grinned. “Hey, now! Am I supposed to just take that lying down? Keep teasing and I just may leave you to tend this on your own -”

“Tend what?”

They both wheeled as another voice drifted out of the shadow of the house beside them, soft and quiet as a breeze. The boy it belonged to stood knee deep in a thicket of weeds, watching them with a placid sort of interest, a freshly varnished wooden soldier clutched in one hand. He looked to be about six by Tahir’s estimation, a stocky thing with dark, thoughtful eyes that seemed like they had been shaped by God to be perfectly suited for peering up from beneath the too-large brim of the hat he wore. A very familiar look from beneath a very familiar hat, Tahir realized with a start. Suddenly it was everything he could do not to laugh.

“Denny," Alex said, her voice soft with a mix of relief and surprise. She spared Tahir a single glare over her shoulder to silence him, then cleared her throat and swept into a deep, exaggerated bow.

“Begging your pardon, Master Sheffield,” she said. "We didn’t mean to interrupt you, or the, ah, decorated gentleman in your company.” She gestured to the toy soldier with a little smile, and the boy’s face split into a grin. “I do believe that I have left something in your care, however accidentally. You haven’t seen anything unusual lying about, have you? Anything that perhaps didn’t belong to you?”

Denny’s wide grin grew even wider, and he clutched the edges of the hat down around his ears, giggling. “Nooo.”

“No?” Alex's frown was perfect theater. “Damnation. And I was so certain that I’d left it here. You’re sure you haven’t seen it, then? It’s about so wide -” She put her hands a few span apart, mere inches away from Denny’s face, to the exact width of the hat that he was currently hiding beneath. “- about so wide, you see, and made of a fine black felt, with a feather pinned on the crown. Nothing like that? You’re very sure?”

Denny shook his head again, his cheeks glowing painfully red with the force of his grinning. Tahir sympathized; he was just shy of biting at his cheek to keep from laughing.

“Well,” said Alex with a sigh. “Well, I suppose it can’t be helped, then. Come along, Tahir. We’ll take a look back through the Ranger and hope it reveals itself to us sooner or -”

“It’s here!” The boy, unable to keep his wits, finally broke into a fit of giggling, and let go of the hat’s brim so that it sprung back into place. “It’s here, see? I’ve got it!”

Alex turned slowly back to face him, her smile fighting between fond and wry.

“Well now,” she said. “So you have. May I?”

She held out a hand and suddenly, the theatrics vanished; captain Alex Sheffield had returned. Denny bowed his head slightly as he tugged the hat off and gingerly placed it into her waiting hand. Alex’s smile softened, all fondness now.

“There’s a lad,” she said, ruffling his hair with one hand as she pressed the hat back onto her head with the other. It seemed to Tahir to look not very much different on her than it had on Denny. “You know not to lie except for this sort of fun, don’t you?”

“Yes,” the boy said, suddenly as pious as a priest, folding both hands in front of him. Tahir coughed to hide his laugh. Alex snorted.

“A lucky thing that nothing depends on my believing you. Now, we’ve intruded long enough. You have my thanks, Denny, and you’ll pass them on to -”

“Are you really a captain?”

The question came without preamble, like he’d only just remembered to ask it, with a frown and a twist of the wooden soldier in his hands. Alex’s expression flickered.

“I am,” she said slowly. And then, with a thin smile, added, “You’ve seen my hat, haven’t you?”

"Well, I know," Denny huffed, exasperated as only a scorned six year old could be. “But father, he said you couldn’t be. He said, he said you couldn’t be, because a girl can’t be a captain!”

It felt all at once like the air had been siphoned away from the lawn around them. Tahir sucked a breath through his teeth and stole a glance sidelong; Alex was the disquieting sort of still, a predator in sight of prey.

A heartbeat passed. Two.

Then she sighed, with a resignation that made Tahir’s heart do something painful and wrenching deep in his chest.

“Well, now,” she said, forcing a smile that should have rightly cracked her face in two, “it is a mightily good thing that your father doesn’t know me well, isn’t it? I’m not a girl, Denny. Nor a woman, nor a man. Rather just myself, understand? And… and too fine at my trade to be kept from it, anyway.”

“Oh.” Denny’s brow furrowed, but Alex’s words seemed to align with whatever opinion he’d begun forming in his head because after a moment, he nodded. “Okay. I guess, well...I guess you can be a captain, then.”

Alex huffed a strangled little laugh. “Well, I should hope so, or you would set my mate here to the very difficult task of telling the crew that their pay is as imaginary as its tender. I don’t envy your position in that, Tahir.”

She turned a glance his way, and the look there begged - no, commanded him to play along. He managed a dutiful chuckle, conjured from memory and absolutely fuck all else.

“You’ve, ah, not gone see-through yet, I’m afraid."

“Not to you, anyway,” Alex muttered under her breath, then cleared her throat and swept back to where Denny’s wide, too-thoughtful eyes waited. “Now, lad, we really ought to be away. You've my thanks for keeping an eye on my hat. Next we’re in port, I’ll come and you can see -”

She paused, blinking like she hadn’t expected those particular words to leave her. Denny’s eyes immediately went as wide as tea saucers.

“Your ship?” he asked, his voice quivering with excitement. “I can see your ship? Please? Please?"

The look that Alex turned to Tahir this time was begging, and it pleased him very much to be able to shrug, and to bite down on a grin when she cursed him with her eyes.

Eventually, though, she ran out of ways to glare him into an early grave, and turned with a sigh to take an unsteady knee at Denny’s side. The boy straightened like a soldier suddenly called to attention.

“Perhaps," she said slowly, "if you speak to your father, he might be keen to teach you what little he knows of sailing. Perhaps, if you tell me what you’ve learned when next I’m here, there may be a place at the wheel for you. But only if you learn, hey? I've no patience nor room for untrained deckhands on my ship."

Denny was nodding before she finished, so furiously that it scattered the fair curls on his head into a proper mess. Alex’s smile came back like a crack forming in stone, fond even in piecemeal. She ruffled the boy's hair to further cement the damage he’d done to it, then heaved back onto her feet.

"Right," she said, straightening. “You’re to set yourself to learning; I’ll have the Ranger ready and waiting for you when next we make port. Reasonable accommodations on both sides. Do we have an accord, Master Sheffield?”

The boy swung himself into something that very nearly resembled a salute. “Yes!”

“Very good!" Alex's own salute was the more seamanly sort, accented with a jaunty tip of her hat and a slight bow. "Then we will be away this very minute, so that we may return all the faster. By your leave, sir."

"By your leave!" Denny cried, parroting the words - and when Tahir looked back, his much improved salute - with greater and greater enthusiasm as they started down the lane. "By your leave! By your leave!"

By the time they reached the gate, the boy had turned and was trundling off towards the back of the house, still excusing their exit to someone Tahir couldn't see. He chuckled quietly to himself.

"Stirring the tar in his blood already," he mused as Denny's shouts fell out of earshot. "Just what I'd expect from any brother of yours."

"Half brother," Alex muttered. Her mood, which had held for their short walk to the road, had gone immediately black again. “And that is being charitable. Hell and all, I don’t know why I told him I’d come back here…”

“He’s a child, Alex,” Tahir said, irritation twinging at the back of his neck. “And keen for your attention, besides. Surely you can spare him and all of us the act of pretending you’re not taken with him.”

“Act?” Alex looked up, genuine offense painted into the furrows of her brow. “What act? Of course I'm taken with the boy. I’ve only just met him properly, and I’d as soon see the world and every goodly treasure in it burned before disappointing him. But he’s my father’s son if he’s anything at all, Tahir. Knowing him means accounting for the opinion of good Mister Sheffield, and I would hang before -”

“Before you trouble yourself with it?” The little itch on Tahir’s neck swelled into a fire. “Well, isn’t that a sensible fucking thought. What a revenge you'll have! Allowing your father to keep his fool poor regard of you, while you give up the chance to know the only kin what has any regard for you at all -"

“And what else would you have me do?” Alex suddenly appeared in front of him, her voice one shade away from shouting. “Shall I defy him? Take visits with the boy at leisure, without his blessing? Give no heed to what happens after I’ve left? After everything that’s passed between us, do you truly imagine that my father would look fondly on the boy that takes a shine to me?"

Something in her cracked on the word; she stepped back as it left her, turning so the wide brim of her hat swept low across her face. Tahir suddenly felt his anger cool, then flee all the way down to his feet.

“You think your company will call your father’s wrath on him,” he said quietly. A soft snort came from beneath the edge of the hat.

“Wrath? No. No, my father would never raise a hand to a child. But Denny is the bright sort. Eager. Keen on approval. I was too, at his age.” Another sigh came from behind the hat’s brim, long and heavy. “It is a… profoundly unhappy thing, for a child like that to be ignored by someone he'd like to please. I wouldn’t see Denny come within a league of the path I walked, Tahir. Not for anything.”

She turned back after a moment - eyes dry, expression held carefully steady - but Tahir didn’t need a near-decade’s worth of experience with Alex Sheffield to see the effort it cost her. Shame began its warm ivy-creep up the back of his neck. Hadn't they fought this battle before? Hadn't she made it clear, as recently as last night, even stumbling drunk and grieving, that she wasn't running away again? Hadn’t he learned?

"Aw, hell,” he muttered, rolling back onto his heels with a sigh. Alex glanced up just in time to brace herself before he stepped forward and collared her into a fierce hug. He felt her shoulders stiffen against his arms, but she didn’t try to pull away until he did.

“I’m sorry,” he said when he had righted himself. “You’re right, of course. I haven’t got the slightest notion how to manage your father. I’ve been fortunate to have never enjoyed his company. I just… I know the look that boy was giving you. Been on the receiving end of it myself, for how sorely I haven’t deserved it.”

“Your sisters,” Alex said quietly.

“And Mihail. I’ve as good as lost any chance of knowing him. Of knowing any of them, understand? I wouldn’t have seen you lose that, not if you wanted it and not if I could help it. And Christ, Alex, you wanted it. When you said you might give it up just to avoid your father, well…”

“You should know better that I would irritate my father for the simple pleasure of it, were that all I had to consider,” Alex said, and the stinging note of affront in her voice made Tahir wince. Then she sighed, her shoulders sagging like a weight suddenly let go. “I can’t say I don’t agree, though. Not entirely. Perhaps my father is only half as vengeful as I imagine. Perhaps I take my leave for good, and leave Denny to be ignored by quite everyone around him. Perhaps nothing at all comes of my company, and I’m free to watch Ade fall over herself about the boy. It’s all as much as guessing.”

“Ah,” Tahir hummed, smothering a grin. Alex had begun invoking Adelina’s name; something in their conversation had started to soothe the rawest of her nerves. “A problem, I see. Worse, a problem best solved by turning it over and over until you put yourself into a fit! Lucky that I’ve been assured those are a specialty of yours.”

Alex’s mouth twitched towards a smile. “Tahir.”

“No, no! Don’t pay me any mind. I’ve said my piece. Now that you’ve heard it, I expect you’ll be wanting a room to fret in for the next several months while you figure it out - ow!” He flinched away as Alex shoved him hard in the ribs, laughing. “Hey now, no need for that. I’m simply paying you my every assurance that you’ll find some solution to this mess. I could imagine no one better suited.”

“And I can think of no advice less helpful than ‘you’ll figure something out.’”

“Oh no,” said Tahir with a grin. “No, I’m rather done with advice of any sort. You saw my last try at meddling, didn’t you? No, I think I’ll put my full confidence in the opinion that Denny has stumbled into the best possible hands.”

“I expect you’ll come to regret that,” Alex said with a roll of her eyes. “What if I do win him over? Or if he takes to sailing as I did? What makes you of the notion of the pair of us? Of ‘Captain Dennis Sheffield,’ eh?”

Tahir shrugged. “Suits very well, I think.”

Alex snorted, but even the brim of her hat couldn’t hide the little smile that stole its way onto her face as she turned and started back towards the city.

“Aye,” Tahir heard her say, very softly. “Suits very well, indeed.”

#my writing #oc crap #seven cities #original fiction #alex sheffield #frenchy replies #TAKE....TWO....SORT OF #i hate this site's coding sometimes I s2g #ANYWAY Y'ALL WANNA SEE ALEX BEIN SOFT #HERE IT IS #edit: i just had to fix this AGAIN because it didn't keep my formatting #tumblr pls i'm begging you to be functional #maybe I should start cross-posting to AO3 or something...

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izzy-b-hands · 4 years

Text

You Send Me: Chapter Nine

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe

We finally get to full blown smut in this one, so a big NSFW warning on that. Also, as a result, this chapter is longer than I expected lol. But I think it’s worth it, and hopefully y’all will think so too!

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“Ugh,” Brian muttered, and it was a universal feeling in the van.

You’d finally started on the road to Kalamazoo, later than anyone had wanted, but in enough time that the estimate was you’d at least be able to drop your things off at the hotel, and maybe rest for a few hours before needing to head to the venue.

However, as hung over as most of you were, that still wasn’t ideal, and everyone knew it.

For that matter, most were still asleep, including Freddie and John, slumped against Brian on each side. Roger was sitting up, and pretending to be awake, with his sunglasses on. But each bump in the highway made his head jerk, and you felt bad for him. Sleeping with interruptions like that wasn’t sleep at all, really.

Speaking of, you hadn’t slept much at all. Worry over the boys or the crew being sick while they slept and choking was a real one for you, and so even when your eyes had managed to close, they’d almost immediately popped back open in fear that in that split second, something terrible had happened.

Nothing had, of course, but it meant that even though you were lucky enough to be without a hangover, you were still horrendously in need of sleep.

“Water?” you asked instead, holding up the not in-expensive bottles of Perrier water, hidden in a cooler by one of the backseats. “I have meds too, for headaches...I know I need some, if anyone else does, let me know.”

You played nurse the rest of the way to Kalamazoo, finally getting Roger to actually lay down on your lap for the last few miles as well. It wasn’t much, but anything you could do to help made you feel better.

You wondered what the hotel staff must think of you, as you all slogged inside and upstairs to your rooms. It wasn’t a great look, that much was certain, but you tried to soothe yourself by hoping they’d seen their fair share of hung over musicians who looked not unlike death warmed over.

Freddie dropped onto the hotel bed hard enough that it sounded painful, but you couldn’t resist from joining him as you let your bag fall to the floor.

“We should set an alarm,” he mumbled, but made no move to reach for the alarm clock on the end table.

In his defense, in your current state, the end table might as well have been miles away. Which was why it took you a good ten minutes to finally crawl up the bed to reach it, and set an alarm for four hours from then.

Freddie flipped onto his back with a thud, and you giggled.

“Your sunglasses are still on.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “It’s bright in here.”

“You poor thing,” you teased sweetly, willing yourself off the bed to shut the blinds on the window near Freddie’s side of the bed. “Better?”

He took his sunglasses off, letting you take them and set them on the table. “Much. Thank you. Now, you come settle down and sleep.”

“I’m fine,” you lied. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to sleep, just that you were terrified of sleeping through the alarm. It would be easier to doze now, sitting up maybe to keep from sleeping too deeply. You could sleep on the day off, if anything.

“Absolutely you are not,” Freddie said, and patted the bed. “Come on. No arguing.”

“Or what?” you asked cheekily.

He promptly pushed himself up to standing, grabbed a hold of you, and dragged you with him as he dropped back onto the bed. “That!”

It was hard to resist. His arms were warm, and the bed was soft, and you were exhausted.

“Let yourself rest,” he murmured. “That’s me speaking as your boss, not just your boyfriend. Can’t have a good show if you’re so tired you can barely work.”

“That’s a good point,” you yawned, as you snuggled into his arms. “You’ll make sure we get up on time.”

“We have an alarm,” he said. “It’ll be fine.”

“What if we sleep through it?”

“We have a Brian,” Freddie answered. “He’s good about keeping the time. Most of the time.”

“And if he isn’t good about it today?”

“Roger,” Freddie said resolutely. “And then John, if Roger sleeps through the time as well.”

“Are you just going to keep listing people until you’re out of crew to wake each other up?”

“Ah, my secret revealed,” Freddie smiled. “Hush. Sleep. I know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, and tried and failed to bite back a grin.

“Yes, you know exactly what you’re doing too,” Freddie laughed. “You’re keeping yourself awake, and me in the process. Don’t worry about it; I promise we will be right on time for everything. Relax, for a bit. Nothing bad will come of it.”

You sighed, and tried to listen.

You really did, but it was too hard not to twist about and look to the clock to check the time. And every time you tried to keep your eyes shut, they seemed to force themselves back open immediately.

Freddie gently placed his hand over your eyes, and kissed your forehead so sweetly and softly it absolutely melted you. It took a moment to realize he was humming Let It Be, just loudly enough for you to hear, for you to feel the thrumming of his voice in his chest, and you melted even more.

It was easier then, to relax into his arms, to let your eyes close. Just to rest them, if nothing else.

----

“Up you get, darling,” Freddie’s voice was quiet, and it seemed he hated to wake you. “Went fast, didn’t it?”

You nodded groggily. “I didn’t even hear the alarm go off.”

“Oh no, you heard it,” Freddie giggled. “Oh, I wish you could have seen yourself. You crawled up and batted it to the floor, fastest I think I’ve ever seen you move! Mind, that didn’t turn it off, I did that, but it was kind of you to try.”

You dropped your head into your hands as you sat up. “Sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” Freddie said, tossing your bag to you. “I know, I’m not recovered enough either, but the sooner we give the uh...whatever you call people in this city, a good show, the sooner we can sleep more!”

“Kalamazooian?” you guessed. “I feel like there’s not an ideal thing to call them.”

“Maybe not,” Freddie agreed. “But they deserve a good show regardless, so up!”

“Is this what I’m like, when I’m trying to rouse you?” you asked with a whine. “Because if so, I’m sorry. That’s much too chipper.”

He laughed as he watched you change into the first things you found in your bag. “No, you’re nicer.”

“You’re being plenty nice,” you scoffed. “I’m just a bitch to wake after a nap.”

“Then we’re a pair, because normally I’m the same,” Freddie said. “Ready?”

You nodded, meaning it at least partially, but grateful that Freddie let you lean just a bit on him until you were at the main staircase to the lobby. It wasn’t that you couldn’t work or anything, but you were groggy and tired and felt rather like you were still asleep, even as you walked with him out to the van to head to the venue.

“Ready Freddie?” Roger asked with a sigh as the two of you settled beside him in the van. “And Y/N, you ready as well?”

“Define ready,” you muttered.

“Mostly awake?”

“Then yes, I am ready,” you replied with a yawn.

You were able to mean it more in the venue, where the familiar mix of excitement and anxiety warmed and woke you up, the sound of the waiting crowd bringing you into the heat of the moment.

From there, it was the usual rush, and it seemed Freddie was psychic. It was a good show, fantastic, one of the best yet, even.

The post-show adrenaline was wild as a result, though only a few of the crew members were ready to go out on the town again.

“Besides, we only have a little while before we have to be on the road again,” Brian noted as you all walked back into the hotel. “May as well enjoy that time here as anywhere else.”

“I think we can manage that,” Freddie said, a skip in his step as he led the way up the stairs to his room. “Can’t we?”

“If you can sit still,” you joked, watching as he nearly jogged into the room. “You’ll be up the rest of the night at this rate.”

“That’s the plan,” he smiled, and grabbed you by your hips to pull you close.

You let him walk you backwards to the bed, leg again between your thighs as soon as you dropped with him onto the blankets.

The rumors you had heard did not mark Freddie as a top, but blessedly he didn’t seem to mind taking that turn for the night. He let you go only to let you lay back on the bed, so he could rest on top of you, hips grinding against yours.

You pondered briefly the thickness of the hotel walls as he kissed and nipped at your neck, as you remembered that Brian and John were supposed to be next door. You hadn’t heard them come up yet (the hotel bar might have enticed them away, despite the original promise of no partying from everyone who’d gone to back to the hotel) but you couldn’t get it out of your mind nonetheless.

“You can be loud, if you want,” Freddie murmured. “Well, maybe not screaming loud, but louder than this.”

“Hotel walls aren’t usually that thick,” you said, ending on a gasp as his hands roamed and plucked at your clothes. “And the guys-”

“I’ve heard plenty from their rooms in the past,” Freddie interrupted with a smirk. “About time they heard something from mine.”

He rolled off of you, and pulled at the sleeve of your shirt. “Off with it, come on. There’s no rush, but all the same, I’m tired of waiting.”

You sat up, nodded your agreement, and started to undress, watching as he did the same.

“Look,” you said. “We should probably just go over this first, maybe, I mean-”

It was hard to broach, oddly enough. You suddenly found yourself shy. Then again, he’d had groupies before surely, what he might expect versus what you could give might be wildly different and-

It was almost like he could hear you overthinking it in your head, and he interrupted your train of thought with a soft kiss.

“I’m disgusting,” he declared. “After all that running about onstage. I think a shower is in order, don’t you?”

You nodded. “I sort of wondered if we might not want one. Not that either of us are filthy or anything, but simply for comfort’s sake.”

The shower was cramped, and the water seemed to have zero interest in obeying the tap in regards to temperature and pressure.

But it was lovely all the same, and you draped yourself over Freddie as opportunity allowed, in between the actual washing up. He might not have wanted to wait any longer for this (and for that matter, neither did you) but he still seemed to have no problem taking it slow, achingly slow.

“If at any point any of this isn’t what you want, just say,” he murmured into your ear after a particularly deep kiss, that left you struggling not to cling to him to stay upright, your arms looped across his shoulders.

“The same to you,” you managed weakly. It was hard to focus, with his thumb trained on your cock like it was, gentle movement but constant. Even as he finished washing up, he did it one-handed, grinning when you whimpered.

“You could take a break, might be easier with two hands.”

He nodded. “I can stop, just say if that’s what you want.”

But you certainly didn’t want that, and you could see he was well aware of it.

He teased as you got out and toweled off, only touching you briefly as you made your way back to the bed.

“You know I’m going to have to get you back for this,�� you said as you let yourself fall back on the bed, unable to hold back a happy sigh as he was on you again, though it was even better this time.

His bare skin was warm, his cock hard against your thigh, your hip, your cock, as he moved to kiss you everywhere he could reach.

It was heavenly, and you didn’t want it to end, and the sudden knock at the door was entirely unwanted.

“Fuck off!” you cried before you could stop yourself, clapping a hand over your mouth afterwards.

His head dropped to your shoulder, body shaking as he laughed. “It’s just John. I asked him to come by with condoms; I had hoped it would be before we got this far though...”

“Why on earth does he have them with?”

Freddie carefully clambered off of you and pulled on his trousers as best he could, only reaching an arm out of the door before shutting it again. “Because he and Veronica do, on occasion, fuck without the intention of more children. Shocking as that may be, at this point.”

“They do have two already,” you remarked. “Not to judge, or anything. I’ve just heard stories from the crew regarding his...homecomings and productivity once there.”

“In any case, I didn’t anticipate finding anyone on a tour cycle this busy, my folly,” he continued. “So I’m stealing from him, though he did want me to let you know he considered it no problem at all to bring them by.”

“I’ll have to apologize for telling him to...well,” you muttered. “Had I known it was him, I wouldn’t have shouted like that.”

“And if it was Roger?”

“By the time I’d be yelling, I presume he’d already be in the room, have offered a condom, and asked us if we wanted a drink,” you said dryly. “No offense to him, but it wouldn’t surprise me at all if that’s what would happen.”

“Probably not far off from how it would actually go,” Freddie admitted with a light shrug of his shoulders, dropping the condoms onto the bedside table. “Now, you’re going to have to be gentle with me on this part.”

He slipped his trousers off again before moving to the front of the bed, a finger gesturing you to move down it, until your legs were hanging off the edge of it to the floor. “The times I did this prior, it wasn’t with someone like you, if you catch my meaning.”

You nodded, thinking you were fairly sure as to what he was alluding to.

“So as a result, I’m out of practice,” Freddie said as he dropped to his knees in front of you, and slipped in between your legs. “If any of this isn’t working for you, just say so. The only other thing I ask is not to pull my hair too hard, if you find yourself with that urge.”

“I take it that’s gone poorly in the past?”

“Not poorly so much as just a bit of over-enthusiasm from some otherwise lovely men,” Freddie replied. “I trust you at least won’t rip any of it out of my scalp.”

You nodded your agreement, but had to rein your hands in the next moment as his head dipped down and his tongue slipped between the folds of your cunt. He maybe wasn’t practiced, but it also wasn’t everyday you had someone wanting to go down on you, and it had been long enough that any contact at all was perfect.

You let your hands carefully twine through his hair, not pulling, but doing your best to gently let him know exactly how well he was doing. Aside from that, it was just bliss, his arms around your legs to keep you in place when you squirmed, when it was right on the edge of too much to handle.

He moved away just before you could come, a satisfied grin on his face. “Not terrible?”

“You left,” you whined softly. “Go back.”

“What if I could do one better?” he asked, and started to reach for one of the condoms.

“No!” you nearly shouted, and his hand dropped immediately.

“Okay, we won’t-”

“No, I mean I want to, but I should reciprocate!” you said, gesturing to his cock. “And after last time, you said yourself, it should be when we had time, in an actual room with a bed and all, and-”

You gestured around the room. “Room! Bed! So it isn’t fair if I don’t at least try.”

He leaned down to kiss you, sweetly, only to suddenly flip you so he was laying on the bed, and you nearly toppled onto him. “Alright then. Do your worst.”

“You joke, but you know I haven’t done this before,” you said. “So be kind, and if I’m absolutely doing horribly, please say something, don’t suffer in silence for the sake of my pride.”

He chuckled, but stopped as you straddled his thighs, leaning down to press a kiss to his stomach.

You trailed your way down, stopping only to gesture him closer to the edge of the bed as you got off of it and knelt down.

You almost lost your bravery then, even as you wanted desperately to make him feel good, and licked a stripe up the full length of his cock.

He jumped, just a bit. “Not a bad start. You can take your t-”

His breath caught in his throat as you took as much of him as you could manage in your mouth, letting your tongue rest on the underside of the head of his cock as you let it slide back out again.

“Or not,” he nearly squeaked. “Or you could go for it, wholeheartedly. Either way, I’m happy.”

“Are you?” you asked as you continued what was now a loving task to get him as close to coming as possible, only to stop right before he did, just as he had done to you. “Why don’t you tell me about it. How happy you are right now.”

He laughed. “And you’ll let me talk?”

You took him into your mouth again, and hummed happily as he gasped.

He didn’t manage much in the way of any other words, until you finally stopped and joined him back up on the bed.

“Not bad?”

“Not at all,” he sighed, his eyes shut, a smile on his face. “And if I have my way, we’ll have plenty more opportunities for both of us to practice all of that. In the meantime...”

He rolled over on top of you, careful to let you adjust before he reached for the condoms again. “Are you ready this time? All good?”

You nodded.

“Are you sure? I need a yes.”

“Yes,” you giggled. “You’re just teasing me now.”

“I don’t know what you mean, but I don’t think I heard that first part clearly,” Freddie said as he opened the wrapper and put the condom on, then retrieved the lube from the table as well. “My hearing must be going in my old age, after so many incredibly noisy shows. You’ll have to be louder than that.”

Instead, you whispered ‘yes’ into his ear as he finally slid inside of you, wrapping your legs around his back.

“Do you plan on letting me move?” he smiled, kissing you gently along your neck and collar bone. “Or are you good with only this?”

You laughed, and loosened your legs just enough so his hips could move, slow until you caught the rhythm and could move with him.

There was no more worry about noise control; you simply couldn’t be bothered with it. It felt too good to restrain yourself from every moan, every whimper that made Freddie kiss you in reply or nip at your shoulder or neck just the way you liked.

There was, after a bit, a sharp bang from the other side of the wall, though you couldn’t judge by the sound if it was Brian or John that had made it.

In response, Freddie carefully flipped you over so you were straddling him, and thrust up just enough to make you happily yelp.

“I don’t think that’s going to make them stop banging on the wall,” you said as you worked your hips, running your hands over the hair on his chest. “Might make it worse, in fact.”

“Good,” Freddie said with a cheeky grin. “Let them spend the night trying to shut us up. They could find a better way to spend it, and ignore us, if they really wanted to, they simply aren’t trying hard enough to do that.”

You nodded, focusing solely on how close you were, on how he seemed to be right there with you. His hips had lost the beat of it, and you motioned for him to let you move to lay sideways onto the bed.

He slipped out of you for a brief moment, and you could have wept at the loss of that sensation, even though he was back inside you not but a second later.

You ignored the sound of the headboard hitting the wall, the creaking of the mattress, another angry bang on the wall (heavier, probably John), and let your eyes meet Freddie’s.

That was all it took, and your eyes shut as you came, with Freddie right after you, pulling you close and holding you tight enough to leave marks.

“For fuck’s sake, are you finally done?” you heard through the wall, and you both burst out into giggles.

“Might have been a bit too loud,” you whispered.

“A tad,” Freddie whispered back. “Let me clean up, then we’ll sleep, and be nice and quiet for them until it’s time to leave.”

The pre-concert nap with Freddie had been good, but this was something better on an entirely new level. Not just because you still had at least a couple of hours to sleep before getting back on the van to head to Boston, though that was fantastic. What really made it was that you’d finally had time to be together that way, with minimal interruptions, somewhere comfortable. It was a glimpse into what you would have back home with him in London, and it made all you the more excited for the end of the tour.

And as much as you loved your job, the chance at more privacy together, more intimacy, more comfort, sounded like the best thing ever.

#text post #LeeH writes #Queen band fic #freddie mercury x reader #freddie mercury x male reader

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melindacoulson4 · 5 years

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The Blue of its Waters

Summary:

The thick edge of her sword whacked against his shoulder. It would surely leave a dark bruise on his skin. A small price to pay, for if it were a true sword she would have cut through him instantly.

The future that Jaime and Brienne deserve on Tarth. Ignoring everything post 8x04. Some smut

_______________________________________

Sweat rolled down his back and soaked into his shirt. His hand was beginning to ache from the force of her blows against his sword. She charged at him. He could barely dodge her attempts. And even then she was relentless in her pursuit. Every time he thought he'd gained the upper hand she'd be upon him again.

His feet took him backwards, achingly slow. Rocks littered the terrain up here at the cliffs edge. One poorly placed step and his ankle would twist. The thick edge of her sword whacked against his shoulder. It would surely leave a dark bruise on his skin. A small price to pay, for if it were a true sword she would have cut through him instantly. "You mean to kill me?" he asked, stunned by the sharp ache. "If it suits me," she countered, mouth pressed into a thin line. Gone was his soft life companion and in her place was Brienne the warrior, focused and primed to win. She swung at him again. This time he dodged the blow, her blade only brushing against the front of his tunic. The brilliant light of the sun was blinding him from this angle. He had to squint to see her at all and that did not bode well for him. Even though it had been his home for over a year he never quite adapted to the heat of Tarth. There was something in the way the rays soaked through all his clothing that had his body overheating. The beating sun was beginning to affect Brienne too. Stubbornly she'd chosen to wear too many layers to protect her fair skin against the burn of the sun. It would be her only disadvantage in this fight. Her cheeks were flaming – the only sign that she was tiring too. It spurred him to make a quick strike. Their swords met with a clang. Not the familiar sweet song of steel on steel, but a blunted ring echoing around the rocks and grass. Neither retreated, instead they stayed connected as equal forces. Both of them challenging each other one handed. Her strength and skill with one hand had grown over time through their duels. They both stepped in and pushed closer together, only a few breaths away now. Calm eyes, steady as a stream trained on him as if she could push him back by sheer force of will. The familiar buzz ran through him then. He felt alive with the weapon in his hand. And spurred on with a partner at his level unlike the times he sparred with the other men on the isle. The hilt grew heavy in his hand. Grunting, he struggled to keep her weight from toppling into him. She was like a wall of solid steel. His wrist failed him and twisted. Their joined blades scraped down the length of one another. Only hers continued on a path towards his head. He ducked and aimed for her thigh before she could move to parry the blow. The metal merely swiped at her skin. She frowned slightly but stayed silent. Standing taller than before, she lunged at him. He had no choice but to retreat for he didn't want to be riddled with bruises. Her sword cut through the air over and over as his legs backpedaled. The muscle in his forearm burned from the strain to keep her cuts from his body. She continued to charge, grimacing with each swing. Further back he went. The terrain was smooth up on the cliffs. A brilliantly rich and fertile green, like a patch of paradise. But he knew what lurked below. At the edge there was an abrupt drop off. If he wasn't familiar with the area he would never know it was there. Every so often news would come to them that someone had drowned. It was mostly notorious drunkards who wandered foolishly up here in the cover of darkness only to take a deathly misstep. He continued to shoot worried glances behind him, trying to estimate how long it would be until he slipped right off the edge. It was a difficult feat with her relentless swings. She took advantage of his prolonged distraction. Her leg kicked at the sensitive flesh of his ankles, tossing him on his back instantly. The landing knocked all of the air from his lungs. "Ouch," he grunted body now unaccustomed to the strain of combat. There was a time when he'd be surprised not to find a new patch of bruises riddling his skin, but they weren't at war any longer and he'd grown somewhat soft. The hair at his forehead had fallen in his eyes. He pushed at it and swiped at the tracks of sweat heading for his eyes. As he lay on his back, she advanced, towering over him. It had been a while since they'd gotten a chance to do this. Between their daily duties and meetings, there wasn't much spare time left for them to spar. His bones and muscles were all too aware of that fact. "I'm getting far too old for this, my love," he sighed. Breathing heavily, he watched for her next move. The air was thick and much too warm entering his lungs. "Take it back," she ordered, pointing the blunted tip of her sword at him. Ah, so she was choosing this familiar song and dance: pretending to be outraged by his words of admiration. Pushing himself up onto his elbows to gauge her reaction, he smiled sweetly. "I make no declarations of love lightly. You are but an irresistible knight, my lady." Her face remained passive, unreadable. Feeling all his years piling up at once, he made a decision. "I yield." He was no fool. Soon he'd end up truly hurting himself and he preferred not to have the whole isle gossip about his old age. They'd been out for hours. Both of them now had sunburnt faces. Nothing would be more satisfying than taking a long bath with her. His body was already partially responding to that image. He ignored the sword still pointed at his face and struggled to his feet. "No," she countered, despite the sheen of sweat covering her scalp and the poorly concealed fatigue on her face. "What do you mean no?" His knees cracked as he bent for his discarded weapon. She could go on forever. She always did have a higher stamina than him. Most likely powered by her stubborn, foolish streak. He'd gotten over his pride early on. The golden lion days were behind him. She was a better swordsman than him, probably the best in the seven kingdoms. It was just a fact. "I said no. You may not yield. Raise your sword or I toss you into the sea." Her voice was steady, almost daring him to refuse. Glancing back, he saw the still waters bellow. The sea rocks against the cliff wall glistened in the sunlight. They both knew it was relatively shallow and relatively low risk when sober. "You've gone mad, darling," he teased, knowing exactly how she would react. "Stop it," she growled, eyes widening and warning him. If there was one thing she loathed the most it was being called darling. One night, tucked in his arms she shared that one of her father's companions would sometimes address her as such and she found it endlessly frustrating. Naturally, he brought it out to tease her. He laughed, eyes sparkling and blood flowing. It gave him great pleasure getting under her skin. It reminded him of how they used to be when they first met. Sliding forward, she eliminated the distance between them. Her sword clattered somewhere to the side of them. Her hands found his chest and her slim fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt. There was no armor between them. Just soft skin underneath cloth. All he wanted was to be in their bed so he could tear off her clothes. Finally having an excuse to do so, he flung his sword away so it could join hers on the ground. He met her stormy eyes. "Would you be so cruel as to knock a cripple into the sea to drown, my lady love?" Teasing, he leaned in and hovered close to her mouth as if to kiss her. Before she could answer, he grabbed her wrist gently and pushed the sleeve back, moving his fingers higher and higher. With an eyebrow raised, she released her hold on his shirt. Her left hand went to his jaw, trailing and scratching lightly at his beard. The other hand stayed pressed against his chest, hovering over his pounding heart. They were locked together, entranced. He watched her softening by the second. "Do you like what you see, darling?" He could not help himself. The words seemed to fly out of his mouth without thought. They both froze. A dangerous flicker appeared in her eyes and he knew instantly that he'd made a mistake. All it took was one well-placed shove and he was falling through the air. His body entered the sea, water surrounded him. It was warm and cooling at the same time. A laugh was already leaving his mouth as he broke for the surface. Wiping his eyes, he saw her standing tall at the cliff's edge, watching him flounder. "I will sink to the bottom with this hand of mine," he called and lifted it to show her, as if she had forgotten it was there. The sun's rays reflected off the golden surface. "I told you what would happen. You are the one that's failed to listen." There was humor in her voice. Even halfway underwater he sensed that she was fighting a smile. "I make no empty threats," she added. "This I know," he responded confidently. Brienne was always true to her word. It was one of the things he loved most about her. He ducked under again. The water washed away the remaining sweat from his skin. Coming up refreshed, he realized the only downside to being in the water was that his clothes were weighing him down. "My clothing is wet," he blabbed. "Salt water is in my ears," he continued. "The water is freezing," he lied. When she didn't respond, he looked back to the rock face. She was gone. "And now you've abandoned me," he called, scanning the surrounding area for her. He knew she wasn't actually mad. Maybe she'd decided that this would be his punishment. Leaving him to make the journey back to their chambers alone and looking like a drowned rat. "You whine far too much." His head snapped to the shore. She stood in the sand with the water lapping at her heels. Clearly she was unimpressed with his complaints. Their sparring swords were stuck halfway in the sand behind her. The heat in her cheeks was evident. An idea came to him. He would have to help her cool off. Really, he would be doing her a favor. It was his duty as her partner. With languid strokes through the water, he shortened some of the distance between them. "At least help me out," he coaxed her closer. After a moment’s hesitation, she stepped forward, humoring him. She walked into the water almost to her knee level. "Offer your hands to a man with only one if you have any honor left," he teased, fishing for sympathy. Purposefully, he stayed crouched in the surf. He could overpower her when she wasn't expecting it. Like, when on a whim, he would push her against a dark alcove and attack her mouth in the halls of their home. With a hand outstretched, she reached for him. Their fingers brushed, then their hands connected. His was larger than hers, so he easily wrapped his fingers around her wrist in a true grip and wrenched her forward. They both went under. She came up, spitting water and glaring at him. Her hair was much longer than ever before, almost brushing her shoulders. It stuck to her face comically. The water ran down her thick, wavy strands and dripped at the ends. "What will you do to me now?" He teased, body buzzing with want for her. It did not take long for her to come up with an idea. "Have you sleep in the stables," she revealed. His mouth dropped open dramatically. "You wish that upon your Lord husband?" He asked, outraged. Any night sentenced away from her would be torturous no matter where he was, but it would be worse with the great stinking beasts, the flies, and the massive piles of shit. "I have no husband. I'm but a maid," she lied and began floating away from him with a small splash to his face. A chuckled escaped him. "Do you recall a place called Winterfell?" He asked, following her retreat. "No, I have not heard of such a place." Her eyes trained on him then. They sparkled. Beautiful, he thought. My beautiful lady. She stopped moving and waited, watching him closely. Once he reached her, he wrapped his right arm around her back. Their boots settled on the sandbar underneath the water as their legs tangled together. His mind went to their first night together. Any mention of Winterfell reminded him of their soft touches and bared flesh. The coaxed moans born of pleasure and heat. He remembered being unable to breathe as Brienne's fingers brushed against him that first time. In that moment he thought she would surely reject him and push him away, disgusted by the kingslayer. Instead she helped divest him of his tunic and the rest was an explosive fire that burned for hours between them. Never before had his heart ever been so full of acceptance and admiration. It was one of the best nights of his life. His forearm settled comfortably against the small of her back. She never shied away from his maimed arm. "Let's see. Winterfell. Winterfell. I would tell you a story about it, but I'm afraid it's just not suitable for a maiden's ears," he said, watching her lips now. Her hands were on his arms, running over his biceps. "Good. I don't wish to hear your voice anymore anyway," she softly teased. This time he could not hold back the rumbling laughter. She was his equal match in wit. She rose to the occasion each time. "Perhaps you'd rather feel my touch then." He could barely restrain himself any longer. His hand settled on her face, brushing the wet hair back behind her ear. "Perhaps I would," she whispered, leaning into him and no longer fighting a smile. Their mouths met in an explosive kiss. His eyelids fluttered closed and he let instinct take over. The arm he had around her back curled tightly around her, pulling her closer. From her cheek, his left hand trailed down and caressed the rest of her body as he went. His fingers spread lower and lower, crawling towards the hem of her tunic. It proved to be somewhat difficult as the material clung to her like a second skin. Her kiss was bruising, sending trails of lightning throughout his body. The sleeping lion roared inside of him as he met her pace. His hand found its way into her breeches. She was a hot furnace and wet for him already at her entrance. He groaned happily, then pressed two fingers gently inside her. Her inhale was sharp. Her arms went around his neck, pulling him closer. They were chest to chest, clinging to each other. He imagined a steam rising from the water around them like it had in the baths of Harrenhal. It was times like these that he desperately wished that he had his right hand. It left him frustrated in his limited ways he could touch her. That was his greatest torture. Brienne never made any complaints; in fact her response was usually just the opposite. Still, he tried to do wonders with one. Finding the most sensitive parts inside her, he curled his fingers and pushed them in harder, providing some friction. She pulled away from his mouth, chest heaving against his. "Jaime," she sighed, breathless and tilted her head, exposing her neck to him. Creamy white and practically begging for him to touch. Her eyes fluttered closed. He felt the telltale signs of his arousal growing. Lowering his head, he kissed her neck. He started off softly peppering up and down with gentle caresses. As he went, he could taste hints of salt from the water and feel her delicious warmth. Then he was devouring her, biting and sucking each part of her he could reach. In his lust filled daze, he wished he could strip them both down right here. Their garments could go floating out to sea for all he cared. Tugging the hair at the back of his head, she pulled him away from her neck and back to her mouth. Her tongue pushed into his mouth. Her hands worked in tandem. One with her nails brushing his scalp and the other trailing down to where he needed her most. Liquid fire ran down his abdomen in anticipation. He swept his thumb through some of her wetness and rubbed against her clit. Heavy breaths left her between their increasingly desperate kisses. With a hand inside his breeches, she cupped him. The searing skin to skin contact caused his hips to twitch. Gentle fingers slid along his length. All the air rushed out of him. She teased him with a light squeeze around his tip. He groaned and bit down on her lip. "Even here you're fucking!" The voice was like a bucket of icy water tossed upon their heads. Their hands stilled. He jerked up to look at the intruder. Close to the surf, stood Bronn with his eyes trained on them. He was smirking. Their hands were still in each other's pants. Brienne's other hand now gripped him by the shoulder. She was aching to finish this. That's when he remembered that the water was crystal clear. Suddenly crazed, he darted to put himself between Brienne and Bronn, unsure how much Bronn could see from his position. "This isn't a show!" Jaime shouted. Bronn's hands settled around his belt. He took a long look around, leisurely taking in all sights surrounding them. "Public place," he announced shrugging. Even if they ignored him, Jaime knew Bronn wouldn't go away. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand out of Brienne's breeches. She was still slick. He hated to leave her deprived. Brienne groaned. Her eyes screwed shut. "I hate him." As do I, Jaime thought. Following his lead, her hand left him hard and needing. I'll kill him. Closing his eyes, he tried to grasp a sense of control. A few deeps under the water and thoughts of sobering images helped a bit. It would be asking too much for Bronn to be gone when he came back up, but still he wished. And disappointment came when Bronn was still waiting in the sand. "Later," he whispered to Brienne, sealing his promise with a final kiss. Away from prying eyes they'd finish this. He would make it worth the wait. "Imagine my disappointment when the Lady and Lord of Tarth weren't at breakfast to receive me," Bronn said feigning offense. Begrudgingly, with hands joined he and Brienne strode out of the water. The tide rushed around their legs as if begging them to stay. "I wasn't aware you needed such attention, Lord Bronn. Our apologies." Jaime said, but meant none of it. The Lord of Highgarden, truly an abomination. Bronn lifted the training swords out of the sand and knocked the blades together, amusing himself. "Ahh a bit of swordplay to get the juices flowing." Thoroughly unsatisfied, they stood, soggy, dripping and unimpressed. "What? I could close my eyes and turn around if you want to finish," Bronn suggested. Jaime itched to slap him across the mouth, but that would get them nowhere. It was bad taste to kill your guests. "Well then, let's get on with it." Bronn gestured for them to start walking. They walked along the shoreline blanketed in silence, excluding the almost constant chuckles and disingenuous 'sorrys' from Bronn. Patches of sand stuck to their wet boots as they continued. Brienne's thumb rubbed the back of his hand, attempting to calm him. It was his only solace. Jaime was determined not to give in to Bronn's antics. After a few minutes, Bronn inserted himself between them, breaking their hold on one another. "Where is Lollys?" Brienne asked, refusing to give Bronn a reaction. "She didn't want to find you two indecent," Bronn responded. It happened five days ago. He and Brienne were in the practice yard for some time. Then they ended up rushing into the storage shed, slamming the door and sharing heated kisses. He had just slipped inside her, rocking lazily to get moving. They were barely chasing any pleasure when a surprised yelp greeted them. "I was - I - my mistake - so sorry." It was Lollys. She hadn't looked in his direction since that day. Jaime rolled his eyes. "What do you want?" Bronn was like a leach on them. Nothing but a source of exhaustion and annoyance. He and Lollys were visiting only to show off their child, who they named Tyrion. Bronn clapped him on the shoulder after the reveal and said, "don't worry I'll name the next one after you." The babe and Lollys took up much of Brienne's time. He'd watched the way she was with the child. There was a gentleness in her movements. She'd almost seemed comfortable as she cradled the babe. After that he'd found himself wishing for things. Images of their future and his wants had started to form in his mind. Before he could linger on the idea, Bronn dragged him away. "Let the women coo over the babe. I need some expensive sapphire wine." With no more wars or true conflict Bronn had settled with regaling him stories of the 'most expensive golden whores'. Bronn was practically bouncing with excitement when he'd revealed that Lollys turned a blind eye to his antics. "You really should expand your horizons." A wave of heat had washed over him. "Brienne is my wife," he fumed at the suggestion. He never wanted anyone else. Never had an urge. The thought of ever venturing from her repulsed him. "Ah fuck, I forget sometimes who I'm talking to," Bronn dismissed. And finally when he had gotten to touch his wife Bronn had to be there inserting himself in the moment and killing the mood. Bronn's head whipped around, scanning the surrounding area. "I'm wondering is there any place left around this whole isle that's been untouched by you two?" "Probably not," Jaime said out of spite, refusing to indulge him. Bronn shook his head. "You're a pair of horny cunts." "Lions," Brienne said. "What?" Bronn asked. Even Jaime was unsure of what she was referring to. Brienne turned to Bronn, staring at him head on. "We prefer to be called horny lions not cunts," she stated without a hint of shame. It took Jaime by such surprise that he stopped walking. Bronn sped up, leaving them behind and mumbling under his breath. Brienne grabbed Jaime's hand, threading their fingers together once again. She gave him a brief, but sure squeeze. There was nothing but truth in her eyes. He knew that she meant it. That she was a lion as much as him now after their joined union. It was one thing to earn the Lannister name by marriage, but it was another to accept it and acknowledge it aloud to others. Not that Bronn was anyone to impress or that there was much left of the Lannisters. Still, it touched him deeply. And he was reminded once again of how much he loved her. "You don't have to be jealous," Jaime called after Bronn, spurred on by Brienne. He couldn't wait to get her alone tonight.

//end//

#jaime x brienne #braime #jaime x brienne fic #braime fanfiction

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yaachtynoboat711 · 5 years

Text

Our Next Guest...

A/N: Here’s my contribution to @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots With Love, From Wakanda fic fest! I’m so excited to temporarily break from Fonder’s angsty chains and coming with that present-day Yaa and Wins! I apologize for the tardiness of this fic, as I started my new job this week. I had to dust this off from the depths of my archives due to the time crunch. I was going to do my M’Baku x OC, but my time was limited.

Word Count: 2.4K

Warning(s): Fluff, Black Love

Prompt: “Have I mentioned how much I love you? Only twice in the past hour.”

“Chris, I’m fucking terrified.”,you huffed.

You were in your dressing room getting ready to finally begin your Sheimbloom press junket. The first stop was Jimmy Kimmel Live, one of your favorite talk shows. You’d been delaying the tour for personal reasons. Now, it was here and you were going alone. Winston was in the middle of a project in New York. Plus, it was Valentine’s Day. It sucked knowing that Winston couldn’t make it, however,it was worth knowing that he was being supportive and giving you advice on TV interviews. You’d had many a print interview, but never a TV interview.

“Baby, you’ll do fine. You’re a lawyer: you orate for a living. Plus, you love Jimmy, so this’ll be a breeze.”, Winston reassured via FaceTime.

“Yeah, you’re right...I guess.”

“You’re damn right I’m right. I can’t recall a time I was ever wrong. ”

“Well shit I can.”, you smirked, earning an annoyed huff and eye roll from your fiancé.

“ANYWAYS, are you going to indirectly promote Us?”

“Hasn't it already been promoted enough?”

“Now, what’s that supposed to mean,Yaa Denae?” One of the production assistants walked in at the perfect moment.

“Dr. Abdullah, we’re ready for you.”, the PA said.

“Well, won’t you look at the time! I love you, baby love!”,Yaa said in a hurry.

“I love you, too, Pumpkin. Gimme love.” The two of you did your secret handshake despite the distance and he hung up.

“K.D., you two are just too cute for words.”, your assistant Talia gushed as you handed her your phone.

You walked out of your dressing room along with Talia and your other assistant Jacqui to the backstage area.

When you got backstage, you found a mirror to check yourself out and posed for your OOTD post. Winston picked your outfit: simple black blouse with matching flared pants and a Tuskegee crimson and old gold striped ascot (your choice,of course). He even picked out the leopard pumps. That man had an eye for fashion. Your curly platinum locs were pulled neatly into a ponytail.

“Dr. Abdullah, you’re up in 60 seconds!”, you heard the PA announce. “Thank you!”, you replied. You took this time to recite your affirmation to yourself:

I am enough;I am here for a reason;I am here to slay; I am my ancestors’ wildest dreams!

Finally, you walked into the elevator as you heard the countdown and studio applause before hearing Jimmy’s introduction. “Welcome back! Our next guest is no stranger to shattering glass ceilings. In addition to graduating valedictorian of Yale Law School at the age of 23,yeah, twen-ty three, this past July, she became the youngest and the first Black woman to win the Richard T. Sheimbloom Award for Merit and Excellence in Law--the highest award for any lawyer in the world to receive. Please, help me welcome for the first time, Attorney Khalida Abdullah!”

The audience erupted into cheer, but not before the elevator door slid open to you doing that little Thotiana jig. You waved to the audience and gave them your brightest Miss Tuskegee smile. You strutted your way towards Jimmy and hugged him before sitting down. “Well...”, Jimmy began, “...happy Valentine’s Day and welcome to the show, Attorney Abdullah.” The audience continued their clapping and cheering.

“Thank you so much,Jimmy! Happy V-Day to you! Please call me K.D.. Can I just say that one, this is a dream come true to be on the show and two, I need to carry this audience in my pocket because they really--” they all screamed and you smiled as you glanced towards the audience once more, “--they really helped me overcome my nerves just now and this energy y’all are giving me is every damn thing to me.”

“Well, I’m happy that’s something that helped ease you. So let’s jump right on in: what made you want to become a lawyer?”

“You know, not a lot of people have asked me that question.”

Jimmy’s head bucked back in disbelief, “Really?”

“Yeah, so believe it or not, the OJ trial inspired me to go into law. I was about 5 years old and I see Johnnie Cochran, a Black man, and Marcia Clark, a woman, working the case. I guess I was trying to figure out why weren’t there any Black Women working this case. Even after the case, I didn’t meet a Black female lawyer until I was in college. Sometimes, you gotta be your own role model.” The audience applauded your answer.

“That’s something to really live by. Now fast-forward to this past July: what’s going through your mind before and after hearing your name called for the Sheimbloom?”

“Maaaaan, I was a complete wreck and a tad tipsy from the wine they put on the table. I had my umi and Winston’s hands in vise grips. For clarification, Winston Duke, y’know…”,you looked dead into camera 1, “...THICC DADDY M’Baku? Anyways, everything’s going in slow motion, so my reaction was about 10 seconds slower than what it should’ve been. Now, the Chairman didn’t actually announce my name per se.”

Jimmy and the audience laughed. “So...are you the 2018 Sheimbloom winner or not?”, he joked. “Jimmy, listen! Winston, along with some of his fellow Jabari actors, started barking like they did in the Warrior Falls scene? It wasn’t until Winston let go of my hand and literally took his scarf to bark did I realize I’d won.” The audience cheered as a picture of your raw reaction to winning appeared on the screen behind you. Your red eyes were bugged out, mouth ajar, both hands placed on your chest. That feeling of victory began tingling throughout your body all over again .

“How’s life after winning?”

“To be honest…I don’t really feel that much different. I worked that Monday after the ceremony and up until the middle of August because my partners essentially forced me on leave and sent me to L.A.”

“Why would they do that?” The audience laughed. You did too.

“Honey, I had been working like a madwoman from October up until they put me on leave.”

“Ah-a. So that leads me to the next question: what happened that night?” You smirked.

“Well, after giving my speech, I got whisked upstairs to take pictures with my award.” The screen behind you showed a picture of you holding your award up to your ear like a cell phone with one hand and showing off your rose gold slugs by pulling on your bottom lip with the other. You were squatting down and showing off your red sparkly pump.

“That’s one of the most epic pictures I’ve ever seen. What happened next?” The audience gassed you up with “Ow’s! and whistles..

“Wellllllllllllllll”, your toothy smile should have been the indication that it was about to go down, “I sneak away to the terrace for a breather because God knew I needed it. I’m out there and my Winston texts me asking me where I had gone, right? Long story short, he proposed. Afterwards, socialized for a little bit, and then Wins and I went to our favorite 24-hour diner like nothing even happened that night. So, that’s another reason I was out here in L.A.: he still lives here and we needed time to begin planning the wedding.” The audience went crazy with applause.

“So how’s the planning coming,”

“Uhh...it’s proving to be harder than we initially estimated. We don’t live together—he’s here in LA and I’m in DC. So with that being said, we can’t just meet at a central location at lunch and talk about flowers and what not. He’s big money now with his ever-filling schedule and I’m doing the damn thing too so we can’t just break. We try to reserve a weekend every month to devote our time and energy to planning. The few times we’ve actually come together, progress was def made.”

“One more question before the break: when’s the wedding date?”

You looked at him with your usual “Really, nigga?” face. “C’mon, Jimmy. I can’t just disclose something personal like that. We don’t want our special day to be a media circus. But the only thing I will say is that it’s in 2020.”, you teased.

“We’ll be back after the break.” The audience applauded until the director yelled “Cut!”

—————

“And we’re back! I’m here on this Valentine’s Day with the incomparable Khalida Abdullah, attorney and activist. Now earlier, you mentioned that your fiancé is none other than actor Winston Duke, who’s been on this show before.”, Jimmy explained. The ladies in the audience swooned.

“That’s correct! He’s currently doing press for his upcoming movie Us. Y’all should hit it up next month.”, you responded, trying to conceal the goofy smile forming.

“So one thing I failed to mention before the break was that you two are gracing the cover of Essence Magazine’s Black Love issue.”, Jimmy announced. The audience cheered. He propped the advance copy up that showed you and Winston posed together and serving faces.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, is it difficult being in a relationship with a man of growing international status?”

“Well, damn. I never even thought about that. Ummmm...no. If anything, our relationship is growing stronger. Life after Black Panther has, in a sense, caused us to strengthen our communication. I believe that our mutual communication is our greatest asset. We literally text each other our daily schedules and we have each other’s events and event reminders in other’s phones. We’re very transparent with one another.”

“So you don’t get jealous with other ladies throwing their panties at Winston?”

You shot Jimmy an unimpressed look. “Why get jealous when he’s in mine all the time?”, you said unphased, shrugging your shoulders, crossing your legs and drinking from your mug. The audience hooted and hollered.

"Welll, here's an Instagram picture of the two of you. Not quite like we just discussed but very cute. Does he get tired of the graduations and celebrations you drag him to? You taking his shine?"

A picture of you two came on the screen. It was the Instagram picture the two of you took at your graduation dinner this past spring. In your beautiful red off-shoulder African dress and doctoral cap and he in his khaki seersucker and unbuttoned white dress shirt, the two of you jokingly did the “prom pose” and he was kissing your neck. Your signature smile and red lip were on full display as you were mid-laugh. The audience awed as they felt the warmth and love you two shared in that moment.

“Nahhh...in his mind, he sees us as equally yoked. Whatever hustle I have, be it a speaking engagement, an award, or anything, he’s cheering me on 125%, and the same goes for me. So with anything in our lives, you’ll see one go all the way for the other. Metaphorically, no one has a bigger head between us.”

“But in the literal sense?”

“Oh, it’s definitely his ass.” Everyone including yourself burst out laughing. “Plus, it doesn’t hurt that we’re good arm candy for each other for events. I mean, look at us!”, you said enthusiastically as you pointed at the picture.

“Well, one more thing before we go: what’s on the agenda for Valentine’s Day?”, Jimmy inquired. You carefully thought about your answer. The thought of being away from your Teddy Bear on Valentine’s Day sucked ass.

“Well, unfortunately, he’s on his way to New York to tend to some business. Buuuut, in a perfect world, I’d be rushing to finish this interview and get ready to go out on a date or stay in, get into our pajamas, and watch Forensic Files all night long.”

“Well, once again, happy Valentine’s Day and congratulations on everything you’ve accomplished. Khalida Abdullah, everybody.”, Jimmy concluded. The audience stood up and cheered as you and Jimmy chatted it up until yhe break.

“Annnnd cut! Great job, Khalida!”, the producer yelled over the PA system.

“Not bad for your first interview.”, Jimmy complimented. You thanked him for the opportunity and were escorted backstage.

Jacqui was the first of your staff to welcome you backstage. “K.D. (you hated formalities with your staff), that was amazing! It’s crazy to think that you were terrified right before this and now look at you: mastered it like it was nothin’!”, she said as she hugged you deeply. You’d thanked her and you started walking back to your dressing room.

“I just wished that Wins could’ve been here, y’know?”, you whispered loud enough so Jacqui could hear. You opened the door and it hit something heavy, the door’s impact sounded as though the victim may have been a person. Your face scrunched in curiosity and your native New Orleans kicked in for this very moment. “Bitch, who the fuck?!”, you yelled. You stepped back to make sure you were going to the right dressing room. Yup, this is my dressing room. You slowly opened opened the door again.

Your confused expression remained on your face as you heard Ed Sheeran’s Perfect playing softly. The lights were dimmed just enough that you could see Winston standing in the middle of the room looking the fuck good as usual. You ran to him, tightly hugging his torso. He took in the sweet scent of your loc oil and perfume and kissed the top of your locs. He could feel your chubby cheeks complimenting your candy apple red smile.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Pumpkin.”, he whispered.

“You raggedy as fuck. Just want you to know that. I love you though. ”, you clapped back.

“I love you, too, but hoooooow?!”, Winston looked down into your teary light brown eyes. “New York, Winston? Really?”, you answered.

“Denver, Khalida? Really?, he shot back.

Silence. “Touché.”

Your staff recorded the entire exchange. Praise the ancestors for them. You looked over to the counter to see a large bouquet of your rose trifecta and Tropical Skittles, your personal favorite candy. Your favorite snack was sporting a burgundy suit with a tan turtleneck.

“Now, I was in a crunch trying to get here, but I figured you’d appreciate the Tropical Skittles over the originals, even though Skittles are your favorite regardless.”, he explained. You shook your head as you heard his explanation.

“God, I love you, Winston.” He kissed your fivehead before giving your lips the same attention.

“I love you even more, Pumpkin.”

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?”, you asked.

“Only twice in the past hour. ”, he teased. “Now come on—it’s half-past 4 and we need to get ready for the night ahead of us.”

“Welp, there goes that Forensic Files binge-a-thon I bragged about.”

Tag Listiana 🤷🏽‍♀️

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @eriknutinthispoosy-deactivated2 @whoramilaje @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals @hoopshoney @purple-apricots @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @washyourlinens @turn-thy-paige @doublesidedscoobysnacks @supersizemeplz @wakandas-vibranium @dramaqueenamby @oshasimone @destinio1 @sonofnjobu @teheeboo @sarahboseman @iamrheaspeaks @chaneajoyyy @lovelynervouschaos @cay-cah @coonflix @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @great-neckpectations @jellybean531 @yofavcocoa @storibambino @maya-leche @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @texasbama @certifiednatural @abeautifulmindexposed

#withlovefromwakanda #dukeandthedoctor #winston duke x oc #winston x yaa

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chocobunnydrops · 6 years

Text

Tortoiseshell Charms

I just realized I never posted my KHR Secret Santa from last year lmao so here it is !!!

Title: Tortoiseshell Charms

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Rating: G

Words: 2k

Summary: Spanner acquires a cat. A disappointing amount of domesticity ensues.

2k words of cats being cats plotless fluff ft. slightly scatterbrained roommate Shoichi in the college au we all need.

Read on: ao3 • ff.net • below

Groceries in hand, Spanner unlocked the door of his apartment. It was snowing heavily outside, as it did in Japan, but he rather liked the change in climate from Italy. In the two and a half years he’d been here for university, Japan having four seasons was one of the things he’d come to appreciate.

Spanner shook off the snow and dropped his keys on the counter. Shoichi, his roommate, didn't seem to be home at the moment, which meant he was probably slaving away in a lab somewhere, as Spanner had just returned from doing. Ah, the life of an engineering major.

As he was preparing to unpack the groceries, a loud mrrrrow gave him pause. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that was…

A cat, perched regally on the kitchen table, licked her paw and smoothed it over her head.

Spanner pondered the new feline while stocking the cupboards with instant ramen. Courtesy of his term project, it had definitely been a few days since he’d last visited the apartment, but he couldn’t recall there being a cat here. Maybe Shoichi had picked one off the streets, or from the local animal shelter. He had read somewhere that pets helped with anxiety, so maybe that was it…

Ramune in hand, he looked at the animal once again. She was a tortoiseshell, like the one his grandfather had in Italy, with pale green eyes that met his in a cool, level gaze. For a second, he wasn’t sure if he was sizing the cat up, or the other way around.

She was probably female, as tortoiseshells nearly always were. His grandfather called them cheeky little things, but with an affection in his eyes that left no doubt that he loved them. Personally, Spanner was lukewarm to them, but as long as Shoichi’s new pet/therapy animal didn’t bother him, he didn’t mind the new roommate.

The matter settled, Spanner popped open a bottle of ramune, set the kettle on for instant ramen, and sat down to study.

Several hours later, the scrape of the door against the floor signaled Shoichi’s arrival home. The redhead stamped his boots on the welcome mat and dusted himself off, shedding layer upon layer of jackets (Shoichi tended to get cold easily) before joining Spanner in the kitchen.

“Oi,” Spanner said, nodding towards the cat, “Where did that come from?”

Shoichi stared at him. “It was here when I got back from class yesterday. I assumed it was yours.”

Spanner blinked.

Shoichi rubbed his head.

The cat yawned.

“So…want to keep it?”

“You know,” Spanner said a few days later, during another one of his rare visits home, “We haven’t given you a name yet.”

The tortoiseshell, cozy in the new bed Shoichi had purchased from the pet store, didn’t respond.

"Sen," Spanner decided. "What do you think?"

The cat meowed disapprovingly.

"Doraiba?”

She flicked her tail and turned away from him.

“Fine, we'll wait until Shoichi comes home and see what he thinks.”

Spanner busied himself making a pot of tea (he was British, after all, and already running low on ramune) before starting on his homework. He’d much rather work on Mini Mosca (he was in the process of adding a vacuuming program) but alas his pesky degree required certain grades to graduate, and certain grades required finishing homework.

He was halfway done designing the motor for a wind turbine when Shoichi shuffled in, nose bright red from the cold, and declared that Professor Kominato was many words he could not say in front of children for holding lecture in this weather.

Spanner privately agreed and informed him of the name conundrum.

Analytical as always, Shoichi studied the tortoiseshell carefully. “She looks like a Phoebe.”

The cat made a sound of disgust.

Shoichi laughed. “Okay, that’s a no.”

Not-Phoebe hrrrumped in the way only a cat can and rolled on her back, demanding belly rubs as compensation for the ill-fitting name. Suddenly, Spanner was struck by inspiration.

“Maru.”

The cat meowed indignantly.

Shoichi laughed again and stroked her admittedly round belly. “Sorry Maru, but Spanner’s got a point. For a stray, you’re remarkably well-fed.”

Maru huffed.

Spanner pushed up his goggles and rubbed his eyes. He’d lost track of how many hours he’d spent in the lab, but judging by the piles of lollipop wrappers on his desk, it was a considerable amount of time. Two days and eleven hours, by his estimates.

Which meant that it was about time he went home and fed Maru. Honestly, he should probably just program Mini Mosca to do it at set intervals (a much easier code than most of its functions), but Spanner enjoyed the break. It was strange, because he had never enjoyed stopping in the middle of a project before, often working days on end without sleep, spending more time in the lab than his apartment.

Shoichi constantly scolded him for not taking care of himself. Spanner retorted that Shoichi wasn’t any better, spending literal days glued to his computer in a similar manner, hair disheveled, face unshaved, perfecting his latest project. He had come home far too many times to Shoichi slumped over his keyboard, snoring, while intricate programs ran in the background. At least Spanner always dragged himself to bed (if the little cot in his lab could be called that) before collapsing.

Spanner’s keys clanked when he dropped them on the counter. The sound always sent Maru purring around his legs, as if the sudden affection would make him dole out an extra serving of cat food. No such luck. Spanner had long grown immune to tortoiseshell charms.

Mini Mosca put the kettle on and Spanner quietly thanked him. Shoichi was sleeping over at that Byakuran kid’s again (they had been spending a lot of time together lately), so the apartment felt oddly quiet without the click-clacking of his keyboard or the electronic bzzzzt of a program running.

Maru pawed at his pant leg, reminding Spanner of the all-important dinner. Spanner poured her food into her bowl, and reprimanded her when she stared pleadingly at him when she quickly “finished”.

“Maru, there’s still food in your bowl.”

Maru gazed at him with devastatingly big green eyes.

“Maru, you haven’t even eaten everything yet.”

Maru mrrowed pitifully.

Spanner sighed and pushed away his instant ramen (Mini Mosca’s cooking functions were advancing, but not quickly enough). He reached for the bag of cat food and pretended to pour more in before placing it back in the only locked cabinet in their apartment. Maru, as they found out early on, could somehow get into every nook and cranny of the apartment they hid the food in. Shoichi had come home one day to find her wedged contently in the heating duct, an empty bag of cat food sitting between her paws, and that had been the last straw. He and Spanner spent the next day reinforcing one of the kitchen cabinets with iron deadbolts and a fingerprint recognition system.

Spanner picked up the bowl and moved it slightly to the right, making sure to swirl the container so the food would be in different places. Lo and behold, Maru trotted right up and started eating again. Spanner stroked her fondly.

“You know, this is why we called you Maru.”

Maru, oblivious to the jibe, licked up the last of her meal with satisfaction.

Now that he had a cat, Spanner preferred to work at home when he could. Maru curled up in his lap while he typed away on his computer, and he absentmindedly scratched her behind the ears. Every now and again she’d hop off and sit in front of the fridge, meowing loudly to remind him that they both needed to eat. If that didn’t break his concentration, she’d plant herself firmly on his keyboard and swat his nose with her paw until he stood up.

But sometimes, she would clamber onto Spanner’s keyboard for no apparent reason. Even after he scratched her under the chin, gave her a toy, and tried to coax her away with cat treats, she still refused to budge. Evidently, it had been far too long since she had sat on Spanner’s keyboard, and she was intent on enjoying it.

At first, Spanner tried to reason with her. “Maru, I have a spare keyboard on my dresser. You can sit on that one.” To which Maru blinked once before settling down more.

Next came bribery. “Maru, I’ll buy you a new mouse toy if you get off my keyboard.” He received a bored yawn in reply.

Physical action was his last resort. He gently wrapped his hands around Maru’s ample midsection and hoisted the chubby cat off the keyboard. Maru immediately sank her claws into his sweater and positioned herself on his shoulder. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but it was definitely an indication that she wouldn’t be letting go anytime soon.

Which was somewhat of a problem, given that he had class in fifteen minutes (and hence needed his keyboard to finish up a homework assignment he had put off to work more on Mini Mosca…the cycle of procrastination never ends).

Seeing as negotiating had failed spectacularly in getting Maru off his keyboard, Spanner decided that no college student gave enough of a shit to protest his bringing a cat to class. It certainly wouldn’t be the weirdest thing he’d seen in his electrical engineering lecture.

He bundled up Maru in her little penguin-patterned scarf and hat before sliding into his own jacket; Maru graciously lifted one limb at a time to allow him to put it on. Then, with a quick glance at his watch to check the time, they were off.

3 pm was Spanner and Maru’s favorite time of day, because that was when the mail truck rolled to a stop on the curb of their apartment building and started unloading a conglomerate of packages in every shape and size.

Spanner, predictably, was excited because he finally had whatever part he was missing for his project.

Maru, predictably, was excited because of the box said part came in.

It was a symbiotic relationship, and one in which the mailman was very, very well-greeted.

Maru’s Top Five Spots to Nap, as compiled by Spanner

5. Under the kitchen sink

4. On top of Spanner’s keyboard

3. On top of whatever textbook Spanner is reading

2. In Spanner’s underwear drawer

1. Unknown. Maru disappears for a certain length of time and returns looking refreshed. Further investigation needed.

Like winter, midterms had come and gone, leaving Shoichi and Spanner with free time for the first time in weeks. Icicles dripped from the eaves of their roof, and grass was just beginning to peek through melted patches of snow. They embarked on an impromptu but highly necessary trip to the supermarket, where the two roommates enjoyed each other’s company while buying the store’s entire supply of instant ramen and coffee (the latter was for Shoichi; Spanner preferred ramune, even if it didn’t give him a caffeine rush).

Despite being laden with groceries, the walk home was quick and pleasant, and Spanner scarcely had time to unlock the door before both he and Shoichi were calling for Maru.

Truth be told, they had grown a soft spot for the tortoiseshell and couldn’t resist picking up a new toy or two every time they went to that specific supermarket. Shoichi blamed it on the marketing. “Placing cat toys in the check-out aisle…right as we’re about to leave…and always on sale too…it’s cruel.”

His bank account agreed.

“Maru?” Shoichi called again. Their tortoiseshell, usually so diligent about greeting them whenever they came home for the toys, had mysteriously vanished.

A light mrrrow in response led them to the kitchen.

Maru was perched regally on the table, but upon their entry moved aside to reveal another cat. This one was white and fluffy, but in a way that bore an unfortunate resemblance to the tousled chaos atop Byakuran’s head. Maru mrrrowed again and flicked her tail proudly.

Shoichi looked at Spanner.

Spanner looked at Shoichi.

“So…want to keep it?”

A/N: Do Spanner and Shoichi ever figure out how two cats managed to sneak inside their locked apartment? …nah probs not.

Sen – Wire

Doraiba – Screwdriver

Yes Spanner is a confirmed nerd who would definitely name his cat after tools…

Maru – round or circle, bc pudgy cats are the cutest and the name just sounds super cute so.

This was my first time writing Spanner and Shoichi, so I apologize if they acted ooc! If you have any comments or constructive criticism, I’d love to hear it :3

Thank you for reading and (belated) Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!

~Tressa

Random Headcanons for this au

Spanner came to Japan for university because of its advanced robotics/engineering programs and coincidentally ended up at the same school as Shoichi. Neither really had any friends going in so they were like hey why not let’s be roomies.

They’re perfect roommates because (before Maru) neither was ever really home—they basically lived in their respective robotics labs and came home only to shower and pick up mail.

They’re both majoring in Engineering, with a specialization in robotics (hopefully that’s a thing). They both find university A Struggle.

Basically Spanner is the definition of a Ravenclaw who is hella smart and could easily get straight As if he actually did his homework on time but would rather work on Mini Mosca/other personal projects.

Spanner and Shoichi both live off instant ramen because neither has the time to make anything better. Since coming to Japan, Spanner has since gotten addicted to ramune because it’s so sweet and fizzy??? Like his lollipops but in liquid form???

Mini Mosca is a side project he’s been working on for the past couple of years. Is basically the same as he is in canon—a mini home assistant—except that he’s not finished yet.

Honestly getting a cat is such a good thing for Spanner bc it makes him actually take care of himself and eat and come home more and she probably actually does help Shoichi with his stomach aches and anxiety too so !!! this has been a psa pls imagine Spanner and Shoichi with cats.

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #khr spanner #irie shouichi #khr secret santa 2016

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b1a4seeyou · 6 years

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Hacked Your Heart

Summary: They say that fate brings people together no matter how far apart they may be, but what if that fate separates these two people quicker than it should be. As Haneul tries to bear with her everyday lives herself, how will she embrace this tragic ending she’ll face?

Genre: A N G S T with a pinch of fluff.

Rating: None but do embrace with its wonderful “ending“ :3c

Note: I hope you dont mind me ruining the mood with this long angsty fic huihui.This is for @saeyoungweek‘s day 3 prompt, identity. Idk if it is related to it but I’m just winging it lol. Anyways, I had this in my draft for SO LONG like idk when I’ll post this, and when I saw the Saeyoung week thing is coming, I just HAD to shove this in here, hehehehe. The character names are originally from my previous fics so I just reused the names to make my life more easier. Enjoy ;3c

“I have never thought that my life will change after this.” Time passes by as the memories of her late beloved dances in her little mind which made her felt empty. Ever since that incident, she had never gone out of her apartment nor go socializing with her neighbors who are worried of her absences and health. All she ever done was crying, mourning and whining for that one person she wanted in her life. This had all started when she met him back in a few months.

Song Haneul, a normal everyday woman, would always leaned by the doorway frame and wondered who is this person that lives right in front of her, everyday, every night. A door room numbered ‘707’, never been opened but the lights from underneath the door were never went off. She suspected whether this room was possessed or there’s no owner who lives here, but from the other neighbors she had heard, there’s a suspicious man inside the room who locked himself in there and never came out ever since he moved in. A man, she thought. What if he’s a shut in? What if he works late at times when people had gone to bed? What if he is just too shy to talk with people? Questions that never been answered kept piling in her mind until a little girl interrupted her thoughts. “Omma, I’m ready for school. Can we go now?” “Oh! It’s time already? Sure, let’s go.”

Ji Hye, the name of the girl, was her so-called adopted child who she found her near a dark alley at the back of her apartment. She was only 4 years old back then. No one was there and she kept crying out the word ‘mother’ several times. Haneul sent the child to the police but it’s been several days, no one even came to pick her up. Haneul can’t bear to leave her be so she took care of the little girl as her own.

Haneul took her coat and keys then headed outside. Ji Hye had went ahead, waiting her from the stairs. As she tried locking the front door, she sensed that someone was watching her. She looked around but there’s no sign of any human presences. Weird, she whispered. But she shrugged it off and ran off to meet up the little girl.

Few hours had passed, the sun has go down and lights had illuminated the streets. Haneul just arrived home with Ji Hye, who’s jumping around and talking about her school days. Haneul didn’t mind with how enthusiastic the child was, so she just listened through, even though she’s very tired with her work. She turned on the television to the news channel and preparing for dinner. Just she was about to start working on the coffee machine, she heard the female news reporter reading about today’s news. “On today’s report from the police investigators, the on-going case about the missing stolen confidential documents stating that the suspect is a hacker among us. The detective of this case added the suspect would strike again if they can estimate the right time and date.-“ Oh gosh, this is getting more worse. Hopefully they catch the suspect sooner or things would get disastrous, Haneul said in her thoughts as she focused her eyes to the news.

While she was waiting for her coffee, the child pulled the hem of her skirt with a curious expression. She crouched down and asked, “Yes, Jihye?“ “Omma, why don’t I have a father?” Haneul was surprised with Ji Hye’s question but instead she giggled, “Why are you saying that? Not all families has a father. Some had passed away, some had been divorced….” “But you said you’re my adoptive mom. Why don’t I have an adoptive dad?” Haneul went speechless. She actually was expecting this kind of discussion might come to her, knowing she adopt Jihye out of pity. She averted her gaze from the child, trying to think of something that won’t cause any trouble. She then looked to face the child and stroke her head, “I’ll try to think about it.“

Once Jihye went to bed, Haneul tried to finish up her work that night but she was too distracted with the previous conversation. A father huh? She sighed again and ruffled her hair. “I better go get some fresh air,” while walking towards the coat stand, took her coat and left the house to the rooftop. At that moment, a cricking sound of a door opening was heard by Haneul but as she turned around, no sign of a door opened. Just flat closed doors sticking to the wall. “Ooookay, that’s scary. Probably the wind or something.,” she said and continued walking upstairs. As she disappeared, again, the cricking door sound was heard and appeared a red-coloured hair, popping out of the opening.

At the rooftop, Haneul was leaning on the railings and stared at the night scenery of the city around her apartment. Even though she felt calm out there, but the thought of finding a father for Ji Hye’s sake still bothers her mind. ‘Did she really mean that or maybe she was joking around?’ she thought. ‘Aaah!! This is really trying to mess my head. I knew this might come to me but never knew it could this soon. Finding a father for her is one job, getting into a relationship is WORSE.’ But then, she suddenly thought of that door with the number ‘707’ The door that was never been opened, never a person behind that door was outside NOR she ever talk with the owner. ‘Huh, strange. Why am I suddenly thinking about that?’ As she focused on the night scenery,...

“Song Haneul. 23 years old. Born in Gwanju and moved here for work purposes. Status: Single. Appearance: Pure, baby face, long hazel-coloured hair, tall as a bird flies to the air but lands on a tree because it’s too tired. Haha~.” “HUH?!” She turned around and there he was. Red messy hair, golden-like eyes behind those tiger-striped glasses, unique designed hoodie with a pair of headphones around his neck. She was speechless and still blinking at the guy’s figure. Just a few second stare, he walked over to her, She too tried to step back from him, and offered his hand. “Saeyoung. Choi Saeyoung. Never seen a pretty girl in this area, until I laid my eyes on you.”, and winks. She hesitated for a moment, not feeling like she could trust this guy but seeing Saeyoung with that enthusiastic smile, she shook his hand. “Guess I don’t need to tell mine. Haha.” Saeyoung released his hand and walked over to the railings, enjoying the night scenery. “Man, never expect the city to look so big.” She’d been staring at him, wondering who is this unknown person in front of her. Never seen him among the neighbors she met, until she recalled the man’s name. ‘Choi Saeyoung......Hold on-!‘ She remembered her landlord stating someone moved here with that name, and there’s only one apartment that everyone knows which was occupied with a newcomer. “Wait, are you-“, Saeyoung turned to lean on the railings with crossed arms and interrupted Haneul. “If you’re wondering where I came from, then your guess is right. I’m the person from number 707.“

Haneul’s eyes widen. So it is him! She finally get to see his figure for the first time. She looked at him from top to bottom and gave out a sigh of relief. A curious expression was on Saeyoung’s face so he waited until Haneul spoke, “I firstly thought you might be an old man, sitting in his home for decades. Guess my expectation was wrong.“ Saeyoung laughed at her joke. Both of them stare to the outside world in silence, until Haneul decided to ask him, “But wait, how do you know much about me? We never met and I never told you anything about me.“ Saeyoung stroked his chin and answered, “Well, you probably slipped some private information about you somewhere and I found it.“ “Wait what?!“ and she hurriedly checked her pockets, making Saeyoung laughed in amusement. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I’m actually an investigator so I looked through your personal information from the files.“ Haneul sighed in relief. So much for a serious joke like that. They then started making introductions and conversations about random stuff until they realized its a little late. “Ah. I should head back now. I don’t want to leave her alone.“ “Her?“ “Oh, you might not know but I have a daughter. Not my actual daughter though, I adopted her out of pity and as a mother, it’s my job to look out for her.“ She brushed off her coat and faced Saeyoung, “Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr Choi. This probably is our first time seeing each other so welcome to the neighborhood.“ Saeyoung scratched the back of his neck with embarrassment, “Please, just call me Saeyoung. Our age is pretty much close.“ She nodded and turned to head home.

Few days had passed since the sudden meeting. Haneul was preparing for lunch until a sudden door bell was heard. “I’ll get it!“, Jihye shouted enthusiastically. Jihye took the stool beside the door and peeped through the peep hole. “Umm, Omma.....Is this your friend?“ Curious, Haneul wiped her hands with a cloth and peeped through the hole. ‘Oh!’ She then opened the door to reveal the red-haired man. “Saeyoung! Didn’t expect you’re gonna come by.“ “Well, we’re only just a few steps apart haha. Plus, I was gonna ask if I could ask for food.“ He scratched his hair in embarrassment. Haneul was a little confused when Saeyoung’s stomach rumbled in cue. Jihye laughed quietly while Haneul’s lips formed a small smile. “Well, we were just preparing for lunch. You’re welcome to join us.“ She said and gestured him to come inside. Saeyoung looked around the place while Haneul went back to cooking. Once Saeyoung sat on the couch, Jihye jumped on his lap and convinced him to play with him. He looked at Haneul and she just gave a nod of approval.

The food was served and everyone started digging in. Saeyoung was impressed with the food and gave all the compliments to Haneul, which made her feel embarrassed. “Wish I could eat these everyday. Though, I can’t really cook much at home and I only ate chips hehe.“ Jihye then spoke up, “Why not come by if you feel hungry? Omma made the best foods in the world! Right, Omma?“ Haneul was a little hesitated but since Saeyoung is her neighbor, she wouldn’t mind at all. After all, neighbors gotta help each other. “Sure. Just swing by if you want.“ She gave him an approval nod which made Saeyoung cried with joy.

(Pst~ I recommend you to listen to this for this part~)

youtube

From then on, Saeyoung would occasionally came by to her place twice a week. Sometimes, he would hang out to play around with Jihye because of Haneul’s busy work schedule. As time pass, he had been coming pretty often like this is his second home. One day while Saeyoung was playing with Jihye, the little girl suddenly asked him, “Mr Saeyoung, you came here a lot lately. Do you by chance liked Omma?“ Haneul almost choked on her coffee and Saeyoung was kinda shocked but ruffled the girl’s hair, “Aww, you little cute princess. You’re really too young to ask that haha.“ But both the adults took a quick glance while smiling to each other. The more Saeyoung came by, the more Haneul’s heart started to feel warm and fuzzy. She’ll sometimes feel like her heart started to call out for him, her mind started to think of him everyday, her hands would sometimes tried to touch him. At some time, Jihye and Saeyoung slept on the couch, tired from all the playing. Haneul covered them with a blanket but paused to look at Saeyoung’s peaceful sleeping face. She wanted to confess her true feelings to him but sometimes the timing isn’t right. Without thinking, she leaned onto his face and gave a peck on the cheek. She felt a sudden touch on the back of her head, realizing she woke him up. She was about to apologize but Saeyoung shaked his head and whispered, “You kissed the wrong spot.“ And his lips were on hers.

But after what happened, Saeyoung suddenly stopped coming to her place. She thought maybe because of that day but she received a call from him, saying something major at the station so he had to stay there and help out. She would be lying if she said she won’t miss him but everyone has their own work to focus on so she had to understand it. Days to months, she hasn’t seen him ever since. She tried to visit him but every time she knocks the door, no sounds or reply was heard from the other side, not even the light underneath the door. ‘Maybe he did stayed at the station. I’ll try to check on him soon.’

One day, she decided to go grocery shopping. As she walked along the street, televisions from an electronic store was showing the recent news reports. “Here reporting, the police are now tracking the hacker who is behind the stolen documents. The chief leading this gave a few words that the suspect is now hiding in the abandoned government building. The police are now surrounding the building and ready to encounter the suspect. We’re now witnessing the activities of the capture.“ The droid then showed the building being surrounded with police cars with their sirens. ‘Ohmygod.’ Haneul covered her mouth in shock. Suddenly, her phone started ringing and without looking at the number, she answered. “Hello?“ “It’s me.“ Haneul almost felt like dropping to her knees once she heard the person she missed so much but she steadied herself by leaning on the wall. “Saeyoung! Are you okay?! I heard the news that the police are catching the suspect.“ “Yeah, I’m fine...........Well, for just awhile.“ His sudden change of tone from the phone made Haneul anxious and nervous. “S-Saeyoung?“ “Listen here, Haneul. We......I.......don’t think I’ll be seeing you again.“ “W-Wait, what are you saying? I’m sure everything’s al-“ “It’s not, Haneul.“ He sighed, “I just wanna ask you a favor. Please, forget about me. Forget about me being in your existence. It’s for the best for the both of us.“ “No! I don’t understand why you would say that. I know you can come back in one piece. You’re an investigator-“ “I’m sorry.“ Haneul can hear the sounds of his sulking from the other side of the phone, “I’m sorry, Haneul. I.....lied. I’m not an investigator. I’m not even with the police.“ “Wait.......Then-“ “I’m sorry but........I’m the person they wanted. I’m the hacker they’re looking for. I had to fake my identity and stay hidden so no one would find out about me. And I’ll be honest, from the day I first stepped into my new place, I’ve seen you looking at my direction so often. I firstly thought you’re maybe one of them so I installed a small CCTV but the more I see you look at me, the more my mind told me you’re someone to be trusted. So I digged through all your personal information, trying to get to know you better and made my first step on finally talking to you. I was really happy to get close to you. You’re the first person who made me feel like a normal person.“ As Haneul listened, she dropped herself to the ground, holding on her tears from flowing. “So I beg of you, forget about me. So you don’t have to suffer from the pain.“ “NO, SAEYOUNG! If I forget about you, what about our memories together? You’re the first person who I ever love and you’ll always be, no matter who you are. Please......Live......For me.“ “I’m sorry, Haneul. I did terrible things in my previous lives. It’s better if I end this myself once and for all. It was a pleasant feeling to finally meet you-“ “No.“ “- and finally loved you.“ “Saeyoung no!“ “We’ll meet again someday.” “SAEYOUNG NO!“ “Goodbye........Nae sarang.“ “SAEYOUNG!“ But it didn’t reach him as he ended the call. Just a few seconds later, she heard an explosion from the televisions. She quickly got up from the ground and watched as the building crumbled to the ground. ‘Saeyoung...........Saeyoung......No......‘ As she witnessed this, she dropped to her knees and let the tears flow from her eyes, not caring the people looking at her direction. She can feel her heart crushed to pieces and her breathing went rapidly fast. She bend herself to the ground and shouted the name of the man she’s desperate to see again.

#saeyoungweek #Mystic Messenger #Choi Saeyoung #Angst #OH BOY HERE WE GO #LET US SUFFER TOGETHER #This is like the longest one shot fic I ever wrote so please BEAR WITH ME #And the fact one character has to die I'm so mean #Eunhwa writes

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docfuture · 6 years

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The Maker’s Ark - Chapter 41

[This is a chapter from my latest novel, a sequel to The Fall of Doc Future and Skybreaker’s Call. The start is here, and links to my other work here. It can be read on its own, but contains spoilers for those two books. I try to post new chapters about every two weeks, but there will sometimes be short stories and vignettes if I don’t have a new chapter ready. The next chapter is planned for the week of November 27th.]

Previous: Chapter 40

There were tasks that Flicker shouldn't rush. She had discovered when she was quite young that she could only build or repair a machine so fast, or things would start breaking. And it was a good idea to take the effort to clean up and put all her tools away afterwards. She was still working on better ways to do something similar while assimilating her high speed mind. It was slower than stuffing everything into her flesh brain as fast as she could, but it helped with a whole set of chronic problems. But she finally reached a stopping point, so she slowed down and returned her awareness to her physical surroundings. "Better?" asked Donner in the dimness of the bedroom. "What?" Flicker hadn't realized he was awake. "I'm fine, just done for now. How could you tell?" "That deep breath and sigh." "Ah. It's a relief to get all my gestalt memories transferred into my human mind in an orderly way. Learning's bio-gestalt crew helped me out with some tricks for that. They've kind of adopted me, since I don't have a bio-gestalt group of my own. They're really nice. But I'm feeling all talkative now." "It's fine. I figured you'd have a few more things to say." "Yeah. I'm sorry you got scared by the nuke. Black Swan explained why she timed things so Journeyman and I weren't on Earth. And didn't warn us. I can tell you some of it. There was a lot she didn't tell me, because that would be against the EDU rules on custom she's following, and because-- Well, anyway. If you're interested." "I am," he said. Flicker could make out his grin in the faint light from the window. "But I'd listen even if I weren't. Talking when you're ready is part of how you cope." "Fair enough. So, it's really hard to arrange a believable alibi for me. Hard for Journeyman too; he's not as fast, but doesn't have to worry about closed doors. But doing something conspicuous, all day, on a moon of Jupiter, works for both of us. And that was politically handy for Black Swan because of what happened in Russia." "Because of who died?" "Because of who didn't. You know the guy calling for calm on that vid bit all the news programs showed?" "The deputy assistant foreign minister, or whatever?" "He was the highest ranking government official who knew picking a fight with Black Swan was stupid, and apparently was the only one with a reliable phone for a couple of hours. So he's acting president now. And will probably stay that way for a while--he won't start any wars, no one really hates him, and everyone will be afraid to try to assassinate him." "Because of Black Swan?" "Partly. But partly because of me. He was their superhero liaison person, I liked him, and people know it." "Wait, you know him?" "He was the diplomat I called to calm things down whenever I upset the Russians. I talked to him after my Moon dance--I think you heard part of that. He's not particularly honest, but he hasn't personally done anything horrible, and he's funny and good at defusing things. So he's probably as good as they can do for now. I'm not sure--I'm bad at politics compared to Doc, let alone Stella and Black Swan. But do you see why a lot of paranoid people in shock might think I had something to do with him becoming president if I didn't have an alibi? Black Swan wants them to blame her, not me." "Ah. Yeah." "Another reason for the timing was so that no one could ask me to stop Black Swan disabling all those missiles. I wouldn't have done it, but it saved me having to say no, or worrying about it. A third reason was because anyone thinking of waiting until I'm off Earth to try something now has to worry about Black Swan being three moves ahead of them. So I didn't stay upset at her for long." "Reasonable. But you said Journeyman was still pissed." "He was upset about a bunch of other things, too. One is Black Swan's fault--some Russian and Eastern European magicians are suddenly unemployed and want to talk to him urgently. And other people want to talk to him about them, also urgently. And he needed to brief Stella about some weird stuff those new aliens tried to do. He needs some time. That's why I came here to decompress. Sorry about the short notice." Donner grinned again. "I had DASI set up a 'Flicker warning level' alert for my phone a while ago. Works pretty well--I wasn't surprised. And Journeyman is still kinda recovering, isn't he?" "Not physically. Lif did a good job of healing him. But he's stressed because he needs to arrange for the tricky part of making the black hole--getting the construction subspace right. So there's this book he has to master that's been giving him nightmares." "Whoa. Like a Necronomicon or something?" Flicker laughed. "No. But he's a magician, not a physicist, the book is Chandrasekhar's The Mathematical Theory of Black Holes, and he's going to have to use it like a spellbook when he's changing the spell. DASI is helping him, but it's still scary." "Everything about making a black hole is scary to me. I mean, you're going to be carrying it around, right? What if you drop it? And where are you gonna put it when you aren't using it? It's not something you can stick in the garden shed with the lawnmower." "I don't plan to use it anywhere near Earth. And if I did, and dropped it, I'd just have to catch it again at apogee on the other side of the planet. I might have to dig a hole, but going through the Earth wouldn't slow it down much at first. It would only be a big problem long term. "Storage will be a bit messier. Journeyman should be able to make a different subspace for it that I can open without destroying. Probably. I'm still practicing. But Doc pointed out that the subspace will heat up, because the hole will be radiating and the radiation won't have anywhere to go. So I might get a big blast of energy when I pull it out if I haven't used it for a while, unless Journeyman pulls off another trick." "Hoo boy. I can see why he's having nightmares. I'm just glad I can help you with yours." "About that." Flicker took a deep breath. "I don't know much about the music stuff, but when Osk talks to you about healing, listen. I'd have recovered full function in my hand a lot quicker if I had. And if she asks you to practice, practice. Because the person you're practicing for could be me." "You think you might get badly hurt fighting whatever is coming?" "I don't know. But Golden Valkyrie told me something that gets scarier every time I think about it. I could win--and still have my flesh and blood body be gone, because the energy levels just got too high. Osk and some others are helping make arrangements in case that happens. But they might need your help putting me together again. You can call my mind back." "Oof. Like after I screwed up and Skybreaker took over your body?" "The emulation, yeah. But this would be harder, because Golden Valkyrie is gone. She won't be pushing things in the background, like she has for most of my life. It would be up to you and whoever else can help." Donner was quiet for a moment. "Practice. Got it. I can do that." "Thank you." Flicker put her arms around him in the darkness and just held him for a while. ***** Doc awoke in the darkness, alone. No nightmares--but a lifetime had given him a dark appreciation of them; reality was almost always an improvement. Not so much, lately. It was possible that his old nightmares were gone for good. The last try had yielded a few garbled fragments that were possibly relevant--Europa instead of Europe, a black hole singularity instead of The Singularity--but nothing predictive. Nothing he could use to plan. And Stella was right; he'd structured his life around the direct and indirect information in them to a degree that required adjustment when they stopped. He ran his set of post-nightmare self checks. This was still data--Stella was spending the night in an EDU ship in orbit, therefore her physical presence nearby was not necessary to stop whatever mix of the old nightmare signals were still arriving. She had given up on finishing their talk after Journeyman's interruption. Morning would do. Tonight had hadn't been an ideal time for the separation test, but when was? Emergencies didn't wait their turn. And it was past time to start planning for the consequences if it became politically untenable for the Director of the EDU to stay at his headquarters. It was officially Deep Kingdoms territory--Sealord had made it his embassy--but the US government could revoke that. Not unlikely, if there was a war. Doc might have to move, too, but his options weren't the same as Stella's. He checked the clock. 1:30 AM and he was wide awake, nightmare or not. There were other preparations to make. Also overdue, since causing unnecessary stress for the Director of the EDU made what should have been a personal decision--not. He had data--important data--that he was perhaps not giving the weight he should. Because... Well that was the question, wasn't it? He was just as good at rationalizing as he was at rational thinking, and over-optimization could be a deadly trap if he moved out of the region of relevance. No time like the present. "DASI?" "Yes, Doc?" "Any pending alerts?" "No." "Estimate a bound on the chance Flicker will do something dramatic or transit a portal in the next two hours." "Less than 1%." "Well then. Set alert interrupt level red plus. Exception: Breakpoint. Secure instance, nightmare privacy level. Engage mindscreens." "Verified." "Emergency timeloop guard; I'm thinking of a number--give me a four digit random integer." "9291." "No match. Good. Set probability manipulation canary, timeloop canary, oracle canary." "Set." "Okay, we'll give Breakpoint a little bit to see if he gets a sudden urge to call and warn me I'm about to make an apocalyptic mistake." Doc picked up the headset from the nightstand and called up the appropriate notes from the secure section. He hadn't even looked at them in a long time. This wasn't going to be pleasant. "Any changes?" he asked. "None so far," said DASI. "All right. We're going to do a psychological bias renormalization, including nightmare context integration. Primary known change: Golden Valkyrie is no longer wearing the Skystone. Starting changed assumption: Golden Valkyrie is currently causally unlinked from Earth. No preconception whether she will return to this worldline, if it survives. Secondary changed assumptions: Her last words to Flicker and Journeyman, and any consistent bias changes you've seen since the removal of my primary block and the loss of my top-level augments." "Noted." Safe travels, Fairhair. If you did give me a parting gift, I hope I'm not about to throw it away. ***** Alep could finally verify the target as he closed, despite the distortion. His mind was sluggish from the damping needed to properly perceive this unnatural worldline, but his body was not. His weapons were ready, and he repeated the command for the others to follow--after all the rigors of their voyage, the goal was finally within their grasp. Baht was shouting something, but the quantum froth stole her meaning. <Alep!> <Gem! Where are you? You must--> <No. Consult your anchor core. Now.> <We don't have time! The target will--> <The target is not here. Consult your core.> Could the distortion be that bad? The damping made it hard to think. Alep slowed reluctantly, to send the necessary attention inward to his causality anchor core, his safety self. And found his perceptions shifting as he did. He stopped, then followed Gem back to a nearby simply-connected space, where Baht waited. He tasted their concern. <Another damned echo!> he said. <Yes,> said Baht. <Was there self-echoes, too?> <A self-echo and an entire false target line.> <At least we know we're in the right domain,> said Gem mordantly. <This domain is a maze of twisty little worldlines, all subtly different!> said Baht. <So much looping cannot be natural,> said Alep. <The inhabitants have weaponized their own worldline topology.> They were close to the target--and far. How far was hard to tell. Causality drift meant they each had to renormalize periodically, assisted by the others. The return to self was not always smooth, and Alep had waited longer than he now knew was advisable. <Harnessed it, certainly,> said Gem. <But weaponized? I sense more than that, in the patterns.> <It killed Explorer's Aspect,> said Baht. <I am certain of it. She was trying to map the hazard. She did not lose focus, she kept it too long--until drift and madness finally took her. The same could happen to us.> <We should go back,> said Gem. <This tangle maze cannot possibly propagate over a domain boundary, so it is no threat. And no parasites will escape either--they would get pulled in and eaten, just like Explorer.> <No,> said Alep. <We will follow the probe echoes. We are not alone--we can assist each other, and endure that long. When we reach the primary line of the probe eater, we will end it, and return.> <What there is of us by then,> said Baht. <We are no longer who we were. The ages here have changed us. My own anchor core tastes strange.> <But you have not lost purpose.> <No.> <Good. We go on.> ***** Doc looked up from his handcomp as Stella entered the room. Sunlight streamed in from the windows, and service bots had arranged a selection of food for her if she was hungry for brunch after her flight. Doc had already eaten. "How are the Xelians and the Grs'thnk?" he asked. "Quite well," she said, and sat down across from him. "Hiri is a proper pessimist--he's been helping with the emergency shelters for the support ships. They weren't designed for the Moon's gravity, but he knows some tricks to minimize damage from that. Cheered me up a bit. But the Grs'thnk Auditors noted the lack of experience of modern Earth nations with definitively ending wars lost by sudden governing authority death." "Well, Black Swan called attention to that problem in a way that's hard to ignore," said Doc. "I'm sure the US continuity of government people will have a few questions for me when we finally meet. DASI said everyone in their working group is taking her prep briefings very seriously, which is an encouraging sign." "Oh yes. So. Have you accepted that you are no longer on the critical path for black hole construction, if you ever were?" "I have." Doc looked down, then back up. "I did a proper psych bias recheck last night." Stella raised an eyebrow. "A full one? You look like you got at least some sleep. Although--" "I took everything apart, but I haven't put it all back together yet. I knew we'd have to go over most of it again, anyway." He gestured at his cheekbone. "The bruise is from sparring with robots very early this morning. That let me sleep afterwards." "Interesting. I'd have expected you to go to your workshop." "I took three steps and already had an idea for a contra-anthropic timeloop-powered deadzone bomb that would be lethal to anything that lives in more than four dimensions from two universes away. And another one for a hunting portal Journeyman could open for me that would require a black hole to permanently seal to preserve loop consistency with Golden Valkyrie's predictions." "That seems excessive." "I doubt I'd actually be able to build it. But even trying would be a very bad idea. Self-destructive anger was the good reason for my old cognitive safety block. Much wiser to go beat up robots for a while instead." Doc looked down again. "I think I've done pretty well working with you professionally. Personally... 'I'm sorry' isn't close to enough. The entity collective that synchronized my coherent nightmares was, on average, an utter bastard. I've been finding surprising and unpleasant ways I've let that shape me." Stella smiled wryly. "Well, we have time to talk. A day of unavailability will be politically useful for me. Ashil's portal work seems to be going well, Flicker and Journeyman are resting, and DASI, Three, and Learning can handle anything else that comes up. And fixing the problems is more important than fault. I had personal issues long before we met." Doc snorted. "This whole timeline has issues." Stella looked thoughtful. "Yes. But I do find that hunting portal idea of yours interesting." "Oh?" "Just thinking about distractions, traps, parasitism, and what Golden Valkyrie did the last time she was pregnant."

Next: Chapter 42

#Maker's Ark #FallofDocFuture #FallMisc

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mazurah · 7 years

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Betrayal and Reconciliation: A Morrowind Fanfic - Chapter 1

Ma'zurah the Khajiiti Mage and reluctant Imperial Blade has just received orders to fulfill the Nerevarine prophecies. Worse, she now has to tell Julan, her new Ashlander boyfriend, and risk damaging her relationship with him before he finds out on his own and ruins her chances with him forever.

Or: Ma’zurah finally starts to get into the serious parts of the main questline.

Please note: this is not a heterosexual pairing! Ma’zurah is intersex and non-binary, even though she does use she/her pronouns. I have attempted to treat this respectfully, even when the character makes dubious decisions.

Cross posted from my Ao3. Chapter Rating: T for language.

Next Chapter - All Fanfics

Betrayal and Reconciliation - Chapter 1

Ma'zurah slammed the door to Caius Cosades’ apartment and trudged miserably through the rain. She worked her way through the trash strewn streets of southern Balmora, across the Odai river to the nicer side of the city, and up the hill to the Eight Plates and let herself inside. Removing her dripping oilskin, she hung it to dry on a peg in the hallway and went in search of Jasmine. She discovered the Redguard woman deep in conversation with Deandre at the bar, apparently discussing the details of the latest book Deandre had asked them to find.

“See, that’s what’s so fascinating about the Ra’gada mythos when compared to--” The animated Breton bard spotted Ma’zurah and waved her over with a grin. “Ah, Ma’zurah! Always a pleasure to see you! Is… everything alright?”

Ma'zurah gave him a nod of greeting and a tight smile and turned to Jasmine. “Ma’zurah needs to talk to Jasmine somewhere private.” she said in a low voice.

“Of course.” Jasmine looked worried. It was highly unusual for the normally chipper Khajiit to be so tense. “Please excuse us Deandre.” She led Ma'zurah to her rented room and closed the door behind them.

When Jasmine turned to face Mazurah, the Khajiit was wearing an expression of intense anxiety. “Ma'zurah apologizes for interrupting Jasmine, but Ma'zurah has just come from Caius…”

Jasmine immediately assumed a guarded expression. “Go on…”

“He… he…” Ma'zurah appeared on the verge of hyperventilation.

“Breathe. Did he have new orders for you?”

“Yes!” Ma'zurah burst out, “And finally explained why he has been having Ma'zurah look for all the Nerevarine information! He wants Ma'zurah to… to…” she choked and hurriedly rummaged through her bag to produce a crumpled piece of paper.

Jasmine took it and smoothed it. “I have the honor to acquaint you with his Majesty's wishes concerning Ma’zurah…” Jasmine’s brow furrowed and she continued reading in silence.

Ma'zurah closed her eyes and calmed herself, taking slow, even breaths.

Jasmine lowered the paper and stared. “I… can't believe what I just read.”

“Neither can Ma'zurah, but Caius made it clear that if Ma'zurah does not do this thing, that he will put her right back in prison…”

“So what do you have to do first?”

Ma'zurah swallowed. “Speak to the Urshilaku and ask them to test Ma'zurah to see if she fulfills the Nerevarine prophecies.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Jasmine’s expression was gentle.

“Ma'zurah does not know… probably, no. It will probably be tedious, and the Urshilaku will likely have enough trouble accepting one outlander. But Ma'zurah knows she cannot possibly be the Nerevarine, and she does not want to do this! If anyone is the Nerevarine, it is Julan! His mother speaks to Azurah! But Ma'zurah has no idea what to tell Julan… She cannot keep hiding like this, especially not now that…” Mazurah paused and closed her eyes. “She wants to tell him the truth, but Julan will explode when he finds out…”

Jasmine nodded slowly. “You’re worried he won't listen and he’ll just leave?”

Ma'zurah nodded miserably. “He makes Ma'zurah happy… she doesn't want to hurt him, but there’s no way he won't find out once we get to the Urshilaku… and if Ma'zurah tells him before that…” She halted, unable to finish the sentence.

Jasmine sighed. “You had to get involved with an Ashlander…”

“Velothi.” Ma'zurah corrected automatically in a monotone.

“Well whatever he is, he’s more intelligent than most I've seen. If you can figure out a way to get him to hear you out, maybe you can calm him enough to--” She snapped her fingers. “A letter!”

“What?” Ma'zurah stared at her in confusion.

“Write him a letter. That way hopefully he’ll read what you have to say all the way through before he tries to confront you about any of it.”

“Or he will burn it and leave…” Ma'zurah muttered darkly.

Jasmine shot her a look. “Do you have a better plan?”

There was a long pause.

“No…” Ma'zurah sighed. “...may Ma'zurah borrow your paper and ink?”

Julan was pacing the small apartment in agitation. He half wished he’d gone to the South Wall cornerclub to get drunk out of his mind, but no. He had to stay and confront her. Sheogorath! Was he ever angry though!

It had been nearly an hour, he estimated. He bent and picked up his telepathy ring from where he had thrown it against the wall, and put it on. Concentrating, he didn't hear anything. What in Oblivion was that n’wah doing?

He flung himself down onto the bed face first and screamed into a pillow. He needed an outlet. His head was becoming overwhelming again. He decided he was well past the point of wishing for a drink, he needed one now to handle living in his own head! He stood and vainly searched the shelves again for any alcohol.

The door to the apartment opened and shut. “Julan? Are you still here?” In four strides he was at the foot of the stairs. “Oh! Julan, Ma’zurah needs to talk--”

He didn't let her finish. “YOU N’WAH!” he exploded.

Ma'zurah's eyes widened in shock.

“You… faithless, traitorous N’WAH! How could you DO this to me?” Julan could barely speak; just the sight of her made him furious.

“What… Julan…?”

“You SCUM! You LIAR!! I thought I could trust you!! I had even, IDIOT that I am, started to think I might…” Julan choked, and for one second he looked like he was about to cry, but the expression became clouded by anger as quickly as it had appeared. “Gah! Forget that now! NOW you have betrayed me in the WORST possible way!!”

Ma’zurah’s expression was panicked. “Julan, wait--”

“And don't even TRY to play innocent with me! I KNEW something wasn't right about that Cosades man! So I used our telepathy rings to listen in to your conversation!”

Ma’zurah’s expression transformed to one of outrage. She balled both hands into fists, crushing a folded piece of paper in one. “You SPIED on Ma’zurah?!” She was down the steps before Julan had a chance to blink. She held up a finger in his face, claw unsheathed. Some detached, clinical portion of Julan’s brain observed that the tip of her claw was stained with ink for some reason, and noted that he had never realized just how sharp her claws looked before. “Jer khrassozay qojiit! How dare you! How fucking DARE you!!”

The hypocrisy was too much for Julan. “WHAT!? YOU accuse ME of spying? YOU'RE the spy, Ma’zurah! I know that now! You're an IMPERIAL spy! Of all people, I never thought YOU would be a spy for my most hated enemies. And that's not even the WORST of it!!”

“Go on then! ZISS! What could Ma'zurah have POSSIBLY done to make to make this worse?!”

“You're trying to pass yourself off as the NEREVARINE! YOU?!! An OUTLANDER?! How DARE you mock me like that!! And not just me, my PEOPLE, my RELIGION and my entire CULTURE!!”

She bared her teeth and hissed at him, an action Julan had only ever seen in the heat of battle. “Because that’s what all this is about, ISN’T it! It is all about YOU! You and your PETTY HATRED!! You and YOUR RELIGION!” Ma'zurah looked absolutely incensed, her teeth we're bared in threat, and her lashing tail had puffed to twice its usual size. “Or has Julan forgotten already that Ma’zurah calls Azurah Mother as well?!”

“I don't CARE!! You're still prepared to go the Urshilaku and attempt to con them into accepting you as the fulfillment of the prophecies!! That is the most offensive and ridiculous thing I have ever heard!!”

“Ma'zurah is not CONNING them! Ma'zurah is being forced to have them TEST her! Ma’zurah would get out of it if she could!”

“How can I possibly believe anything you say anymore!? I just... I can't believe you could do this to me.”

“And how do you think MA’ZURAH feels about this?!” She snarled and shoved a palm against his chest, forcing him to take a step back. “How do you think MA’ZURAH feels being forced to choose between you and herself?! Ma'zurah never HAD a choice!”

“YOU?! How YOU feel?... Wha... Stop changing the subject!! You LIED to me! Of course you had a choice! I told you my secrets, didn't I? Gods, you must've been laughing at me all along... How could you lie to me about something so important to me?!”

“Ma'zurah wonders if Julan quite understands the concept of BEING A BLADE!” Ma’zurah’s voice was beginning to sound hoarse. “Ma'zurah CANNOT just go around telling LITTLE BOYS she just MET all her secrets! She would be killed in an instant! But by the time Ma'zurah TRUSTED Julan enough to share her secrets, it was TOO LATE!” Ma'zurah’s eyes shone with unshed tears as she screamed at Julan. “Ma'zurah KNEW Julan would only react like THIS!”

“Like this?! Are you saying you think I'm OVERREACTING?! You betrayed me, and I will NEVER forgive you!!”

Ma'zurah stared at him with a stunned expression for a second before her brow clouded over again. “Then get out of Ma'zurah's apartment.” Her voice was quiet and despairing. She pointed up the stairs to the door behind her.

“Oh no. You're not getting rid of me that easily. Do you really think I'm going to sit back and let you try to mislead my people?” He crossed his arms in front of her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Your people? You mean the people that outcast you?” Ma'zurah sounded bitter. “Ma'zurah wonders, who is more trustworthy? An outlander Khajiit who has never done them wrong, or one of their own outcasts, who they have already judged untrustworthy merely by virtue of being outcast?”

“Go on, twist the knife! Yes, I'm an outcast from my people, same as you, and probably no one would listen to a word I said. But I have to try something! I can't let you do this! You'll have to kill me first!”

Ma'zurah closed her eyes and made a strangled noise in the back of her throat with an expression that was half angry, half pained. She threw a crumpled piece of paper at him and shoved past him into the apartment. He caught the wad of paper out of reflex and stalked after her.

Ma'zurah started shoving clothing and camping items into her pack, and Julan realized she meant to leave immediately. He quickly gathered his own pack and armor, and managed to finish putting everything into his pack just in time to hear Ma'zurah slam the door behind her. He raced after her, and managed to catch up to her at the other end of the Manor District plaza. She didn't even glance at him.

She walked directly to the Mages Guild, and nearly collided with Constance who was exiting the building.

“Ma'zurah! I'm back from Vivec! Crazy Legs sends his regards and Gentleman Jim has a new assignment! Oh! And he wanted me to give you this!” Constance shoved a small handful of silvery lockpicks into Ma'zurah’s hands and grinned. Her smile faltered when she finally registered Ma'zurah's stormy expression. “Did… something happen…?”

Ma'zurah's expression softened slightly, and she tried to give Constance a wan smile. “Ma'zurah and Julan had a fight.” She pulled Constance into a hug. “Would you mind telling Jasmine that Ma'zurah is leaving for the Urshilaku camp now, and that she will be in contact if she needs any help?” She untucked a simple citrine pendant necklace from below her tunic collar as explanation--Constance's telepathy amulet.

“Oh! But if you just give me a few minutes, I can be ready to come wi--”

“Ma'zurah thinks it might be a bad idea to bring anyone else on this assignment.” Ma'zurah cut Constance off.

“What? No! You think I’m just going to leave you to handle… whatever this is without me?” Constance crossed her arms and glanced at Julan standing silent and stoic behind Ma’zurah.

“Look, Ma’zurah does not need to press the limits of the Urshilaku hospitality by bringing more outlanders…” Ma’zurah chewed her lip. “Ma’zurah is sorry, but Constance would be more of a hinder than a help in this case… But… here.” Ma'zurah swung her pack off her shoulder and retrieved a small coin purse, which she tossed to Constance. “Thank you so much for all the help today. Go buy something nice for yourself.” She tried again to offer Constance a weak smile.

“Okay…” Despite the temptation of money and shopping, Constance looked unconvinced. She glanced down at the small coin purse in her hands, then back up at Ma'zurah with knitted brow. “If I don't hear from you by tonight, I'll contact you.”

Ma'zurah nodded and entered the Mage’s Guild before she had to face any more questioning from her friend. She walked quickly to the back of the building to a room occupied by two people. Julan followed as quickly as he could.

Ma'zurah gave Ajira a nod and a wave and approached the guild guide. “Ma’zurah needs to get to Ald-Ruhn, thanks.” She fished in her pocket and held out ten gold.

Julan started searching his pack for the coinpurse he rarely ever used, and had ten gold ready by the time Ma'zurah had disappeared in a flash of magicka.

Ta’agra Translations: Jer khrassozay qojiit = you clawless coward Ziss = untranslatable swear word Ta’agra Source

Mods Directly Referenced: Julan Ashlander Companion Mod by Kateri. Constance Thief Companion by Grumpy and Emma. Jasmine Companion Mod by Jac. White Senches Race Mod by Kieve. Hlaalu Council Quarters by Princess Stomper.

Notes: This story does contain mild, non-physical sexual harassment in chapter two. Rating will be M at most. All chapters containing NSFW material will be tagged as such.

Some of the lines are paraphrases or direct quotations from the Julan Ashlander mod. I’m a fan of people taking game quotes and giving them new or more detailed context.

Lore and characterization for Ma'zurah significantly inspired by the White Senches race mod.

The letter that Ma'zurah hands Jasmine near the beginning of the chapter can be read in full here.

I’ve only recently started writing, so constructive criticism is welcome. I also really like it if you leave me comments on my Ao3.

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#TES #Morrowind #Fanfiction #Julan Kaushibael #Khajiit #Ta'agra #Thief Companion Constance #Jasmine Companion Mod #Ma'zurah the Khajiit #My Writing #Intersex Character #Non-binary character who uses she/her pronouns #Swearing #Friendship #Rocky Relationship #Fanfic #Rated T

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