#ah yes. the memories of watching my brother play 7. i was Not Allowed to play | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

autumnslance · 3 years

Link

This is @onyrica‘s fault, as there was discussion of Emet-Selch in her Discord the other day and this old idea I’ve had kicking around got sparked awake. Takes place sometime during Shadowbringers 5.0, a little moody Emet-Selch for you all. Under the cut for those who prefer Tumblr.

The Scions were off on more of their foolish adventures in a land still smothered by Light, and so Emet-Selch meandered around the Crystarium, bored. He had already quit the Ocular on an appropriately dramatic note, though in retrospect should have perhaps drawn out the conversation longer if this was to be the result.

He would learn the Crystal Exarch’s secrets yet; he needed but a little more time to unwind the wards the stripling wizard had placed upon himself and the Tower.

It was his Tower, the same one Emet-Selch had centuries ago overseen the construction of in the Source, though how and why it and its keeper were here on the First now…

“Back foul beast!” A reedy voice caught Emet-Selch’s attention, alongside the claps and cheers of a small crowd. He paused his ambling to glance idly toward the sounds.

Lost in thought, he had wandered near the schoolyard. It was currently set up with rows of benches and chairs in a wide half circle before a low temporary stage. Several of the smaller children gamboled upon it, their classmates and teachers fluttering behind flimsy sheet backdrops to the sides and rear.

The adults had sewn and braided cloth and soft leather into simple costumes, built padded weapons and other props and set pieces with wood, bone, stone, and metal, perhaps a little plaster here and there; scraps insufficient for use by the artisans of the Crystalline Mean, saved from going to waste in this manner. The backdrop had the lines of scenery sewn in, but like the props and other lightweight stage furnishings, the young actors had obviously painted it themselves. The results were sloppy, eye-searing combinations of bright hues that nevertheless lent further charm to the stilted, clumsy production on exhibition.

Ah yes; it was a popular fairy tale rendition of an earlier Minfilia’s tale, depicted by students for the patient amusement of their parents. He wanted to sigh and laugh at the ironic frustration of how the story was stripped of the actual woman’s desperate actions to preserve a fragment of this world, making it possible for his own plans to complete its Rejoining to the Source, furthering the goals of himself and his brothers.

And yet…

“Hades, come see what Hythlodaeus has made for our play!”

“Did you create this concept yourself?”

“I did! It’s still a little rough, though. I was hoping you would have an idea on how to improve it.”

“Hmm. I just might, although…”

“Will it get us in trouble with the Matron?”

“Possibly; not that that’s ever stopped you, my friend. Nor Hythlodaeus from encouraging you.”

“Haha, no need to tease! You’re as eager as we are, besides. Come, let’s hear your idea for my concept, and put on a play our elders shall remember years from now.”

Emet-Selch caught himself smiling as the small child playing Minfilia expressed glee at “defeating” a slightly bigger classmate in the role of a sin eater. The little thing was so excited and overwhelmed by the cheers of the audience that a teacher had to prompt the next lines. He clapped along as yet another child playing the former Eulmoran General came to take Minfilia onto destiny—and death, but nevermind that; the schoolyard play ended on a cheerful note, the class lining up unevenly to take their shy, awkward bows as their friends and families cheered.

“Bravo,” Emet-Selch called as well, noticed by only a few of the participants, just another adult in the crowd.

It was a ridiculous, crude little affair. Nothing like his hazy piecemeal memories of his own long ago youth, let alone the demonstrations of Amaurot’s students in later years when he served on the Convocation, their nascent concepts hints of their later talents, nurtured by the elders who guided their course.

Yet a small part of him found something charming in the clumsy little production, the attempt at bringing to life a story with script and props and the energy of children.

A paltry display, a larger part of him hissed. Nothing like what they could, should be capable of if they were whole.

Still; he was ever interested in the mortal need to create, to strive for more than their clumsy hands and stunted imaginations could conjure. That they sought to reach the heights of their forgotten ancestors, yearning to bring to existence that which they only saw within their minds’ eyes.

It was all the proof he needed that he held to the correct course. That they wanted to be Rejoined, wanted to create instantly with a simple thought that which took their crude methods time to draw in only rough approximations.

“I have been looking forward to this showing for moons, Hythlodeaus. Your pestering about the Convocation’s latest decisions shall not distract me.”

“I wanted a bit of gossip, not the politics, though I suppose they could be one and the same—don’t frown at me like that.”

“I shall frown all I wish, though you should hope the play changes my mood.”

“Hehe; we both know it shall, you have ever been a fan of such stories. Or is it the flair of how the stories are told?”

“Perhaps a bit of both. There’s a magic to theater that is wholly different from mine own.”

“Tis a shame our friend has left again, and shan’t return for quite some time, rather than accompanying us.”

“Yes, but we all have our roles to fill.”

“Didja like our play, mister?” One of the little urchins was at his feet, looking up at Emet-Selch with a gap-toothed grin, still in slapdash costume.

He stared down for a long moment, then allowed a small smile, playing the part of indulgent grandfatherly figure. “I have ever been a fan of the theater,” he told the child. “A finer production I’ve not seen in this world.”

Not even a lie; he had not yet had the chance even while in Eulmore.

The child squealed in delight, spitting out a quick “Thank you!” before responding to a parent’s call.

Emet-Selch watched the child dash off, trying to ignore the old, hollow ache in his chest and the brief spark of warmth the interaction nearly kindled within it.

The child was inconsequential; he could have snuffed out the tiny half-life with a snap of his fingers and it would not matter a whit to the universe—in truth it would even be far kinder than the inevitable destruction of Rejoining.

But perhaps the children would put on another of their clumsy little plays before that happened. Another small proof of man’s eternal striving to reach for the heights they once knew when whole, and would know again once he had his way.

“I swear, with your penchant for theatrics, you should have become a playwright, or an actor, Emet-Selch.”

“I may someday, dear Azem, when your own antics force me into retirement for my sanity’s sake. Now please, aid me in resolving this matter lest Loghrif truly does murder me at our next meeting...”

The echo of his old friend’s laugh rang in his ears, annoyingly tinged in the current reincarnation’s voice, as he ambled away from the schoolyard.

He found himself pausing to look back at the bright little stage and realized he was still smiling.

Emet-Selch shook his head. A momentary lapse; how annoying.

The stage was set, his script was written; the actors had but to find their marks, their actions against the Lightwardens unwittingly hurtling them ever closer to the final curtain call.

Then they would understand, and would remember the dazzling spectacle, the possibility of true creation.

In the meantime, these too brief, imperfect reminders would have to do, as he had told himself countless times before in his centuries among these fragmented worlds.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Lyn Writing #Shadowbringers #Emet-Selch #Crystarium #Theater

60 notes · View notes

shijiujun · 3 years

Note

Hi! Is it okay to ask you for a small advice? I started reading Thousand Autumns recently (currently on chapters ~85-88) and I'm having a bit of a problem with Yan Wushi's character. I am so turned off by his behavior towards SQ for the whole novel up to this point and I just wonder - is it gonna get better...? I can't stand seeing him openly abusing SQ and treating him like shit, I'm sorry (1)

I know he's evil and it's expected of him to be bad but with future romance prospect I'm really struggling to like the relationship between him and SQ; and if in the first half of the novel I didn't expect big changes, now I keep hoping to see something different from him but I'm not seeing much. He keeps treating SQ horribly. I'm not sure if I can forgive him for what he's done and has no remorse whatsoever - (2)

- abusing SQ and manipulating him, using him as an experiment as if he's a toy to play with; selling him to a r*pist knowing he'll be tortured to death...! And after everything that happend I still barely see anything good in his attitude towards SQ. I can't help but think SQ deserves so much better. I suppose I should try to have some hope for the upcoming chapters to be better? Is it worth it to continue reading or nothing will change? Excuse me for writing so much, Thank you

---

Heya! Oooof okay so you’re totally valid, Yan Wushi isn’t like a character for everyone - so let me break it down with the first part and then the second part where his attitude turns for the better XD

Spoilers under the cut

Before SQ goes to save him:

Yan Wushi does have a goal which is to play mind games with Shen Qiao and (1) throw him into despair (2) try to see if Shen Qiao is a worthy opponent - sure, he’s an asshole with an agenda of his own. YWS doesn’t believe that there is any good in anyone - he thinks Shen Qiao is a hypocrite and that everyone will turn evil given the right circumstances, and so YWS doesn’t trust anyone, or even considers anyone as an equal to him.

He wants to see Shen Qiao become evil basically and does everything he can to direct him towards that but I’d say his actions (with two exceptions) fit his character and the two motives above pretty well and I’m not sure I’d count it as abuse (based on my understanding of abuse, feel free to disagree). I think it’s easy to forget that Shen Qiao is not delusional or naive or ‘innocent’, and he does not paint YWS as some saviour or a friend (at least in the beginning) - he knows who YWS is, knows that he’s insane, not compassionate, totally evil etc. even from the start the moment he realizes that YWS and his disciple lied to him.

1. He lies to Shen Qiao that he’s his shizun, and then sends him to kill someone, but he’s not there to enforce it

2. Throws him out on the streets without his memories, but Shen Qiao is anything but a weak youngling, once again, YWS doesn’t do anything to him

3. YWS turns up at the temple and has Shen Qiao read the scripture - SQ’s not sure what’s going on at first but he more or less figures it out, but also the scripture reading inadvertently helps to heal him (and YWS knows this)

4. YWS flirts with Shen Qiao for a reaction for a while, he’s not genuine of course, but Shen Qiao knows he’s not genuine

5. YWS doesn’t help Shen Qiao out when he’s faced with an opponent while he’s still injured just to see how long Shen Qiao can hold out for - but firstly, Shen Qiao never really expected him to help in the first place, because he has no delusions about the man - and YWS ends up helping anyway, of course not out of the kindness of his heart, but I don’t see why I should hold that against him XD

6. Stands by and watches as Shen Qiao and his shidi Yu Ai have their confrontation - Sure, he’s there to watch the drama, but it’s Shen Qiao who makes the decision to go with him - the lesser of two evils

7. Forces Shen Qiao to fight him while he’s still injured because he wants to see if Shen Qiao’s recovery level has reached a certain point, enough to be an adversary worth dealing with - yes, he’s forcing Shen Qiao to fight when he’s still blind and weak, but throughout the fight you realize that YWS is right - it’s that very battle that basically lets SQ recover his previous abilities by a bit. He’s not hurting SQ for the fun of it (out of sadism or shit) - he purely (or evil-ly) wants to know if SQ is every bit of the skilled warrior he’s heard about

The exceptions are these: (1) When he plants the demonic seed thing in his heart (2) When he trades SQ to Sang Jing Xing for his sword, knowing full well that SJX has a habit of sexually torturing his prisoners - I feel like YWS was almost warming up to SQ when his habit of distrust and everything kicked in and he reverted back to his cynical self - Not an excuse for what he did though, because yes Shen Qiao especially didn’t want the demonic seed thing firstly (and YWS knows this), and then he despaired at being left to SJX. This is the incident that has SQ basically give up on YWS and allows him to erase any notion of him ever becoming friends with YWS. I’m also rather curious how exactly SQ kind of like got over this - but in the settings of the book, I guess it’s explained away with (1) SQ actually fully recovering as a result of this incident (2) SQ has a big heart, and forgives YWS after - but whether or not that’s convincing, that’s up to every reader.

After SQ goes to save him:

1. So after the SJX incident - where he chose to self-destruct and die, taking SJX along with him but ended up surviving and being able to cultivate properly again from the start (previously he couldn’t because he could only recover to a certain extent as there was some blockage etc., but the blast in this incident clears the blockage) - and after he’s sort of recovered like 50-75%, he hears of an ambush on YWS by the leaders of like 5 other sects, and decides to go forward to save him

2. Not because he harbours any like delusions on YWS, but to show him that despite all YWS has done to him (especially with SJX), SQ is still SQ, and he still adheres to his own principles, that YWS did not make him change his mind about being good basically

3. YWS’s views of him starts to change because of this - YWS has never found someone with this much grit to stick to his own principles etc., to still be kind and righteous basically despite being betrayed again and again. Of course this does not excuse the fact that YWS did indeed deliberately leave him to a potentially painful death with SJX - and SQ doesn’t forget either.

4. SQ saves YWS, and then his heart melts because while YWS is recovering from the ambush, he has two other personalities that show up - so YWS when he was much younger, then YWS when he was a teenager, and YWS now. So YWS as a kid and teen are more trusting and open, and SQ likes kid YWS a lot (like as kid brother), and now-YWS wakes up occasionally from the switch in personas, he realizes that SQ likes kid-YWS and starts thinking about why SQ hates him and likes his kid self.

5. Even then, YWS still does try to jump ship once and leave SQ and other evil people behind in a dangerous cave, but thankfully teen/kid-YWS personas fight to turn up in time, and then YWS goes back for SQ

6. SQ knows this - he doesn’t think YWS has had a sudden change of heart or shit, and knows full well that if it was now-YWS, if kid-YWS didn’t turn up, he would probably be left to think about how to leave the cave on his own

7. YWS’s behaviour towards SQ does a 180 - now that he knows he cannot sway SQ, he starts to listen to SQ, and despite all the barbs on the surface, even if he disagrees with SQ’s positive outlook, he makes an effort to contribute and consider SQ’s opinion even if he doesn’t, intrinsically, believe in it. Starts putting himself in front of SQ, and of course SQ doesn’t believe this all the way to the end, where he realizes that he actually, just that tiny little bit, has started liking YWS and doesn’t want him to die.

8. Then they confirm their relationship in the extras, and YWS does do that hot-and-cold thing once so SQ figures out his feelings for him properly - It’s SQ that initiates the confirmation at the end I think

---

I think at some level, YWS cannot stand how naive Shen Qiao is, and some of the things that he’s leading Shen Qiao to think about/discover are valid - And throughout the book it’s proven true - SQ is kind to Chen Jing, but Chen Jing sells him out (not just once but thrice). He’s kind to and has always doted on Yu Ai, but Yu Ai sells him out too. The elders in his sect - some of them obviously turned to Yu Ai over him despite SQ never having given them reason to doubt him. I don’t think YWS is being deliberately cruel (or abusive) - he’s forcing SQ to look at reality, a reality that YWS sees and lives in.

He always asks Shen Qiao why he trusts others so easily, and afterwards, Shen Qiao does admit that YWS is right in this aspect - he won’t give up his ideals and how he gives everyone the benefit of the doubt, but through YWS, he realizes he needs to be able to think ahead to protect himself and the ppl around him.

Doesn’t excuse the SJX thing YWS did, and I’m sure SQ doesn’t conveniently forget about that either, but in terms of how/why they got together, I guess it’s because despite everything they do know each other best, and are soulmates (tho not only in the sugar-spice-and-everything-nice way i.e. SQ does think YWS is handsome and YWS thinks SQ is the cutest thing ever later). SQ has seen the worst of YWS, and YWS has seen the worst of him - and SQ is made to realize that what he was before was not the best path he could go on because of YWS, but he adjusts his attitude slightly and holds on to his ideals sufficiently.

On the other hand, YWS still does not believe everyone except his Ah Qiao can truly say they’re good and keep to it in every way, still thinks the worst of a lot of people if not all, but he stops to consider SQ’s POV and input now, whose opinions and every action now mean more to him than anything else ever will. Of course he has to prove himself and earn SQ’s trust back, but I guess he also doesn’t expect SQ to reciprocate, even after he developed feelings for SQ, knowing full well that he’s a mofo and SQ has every right to hate him after all he did.

They don’t fix each other, they’re not each other’s salvations, but they fit and come sort of to a truce, despite having differing views and principles.

Manipulation? Sure, but I think we forget that Shen Qiao is not a victim (except the part where he’s given to SJX) and his agency in every situation is apparent - He’s pretty clear-minded, he knows what Yan Wushi is doing, knows what his character is like, knows that he’s doing/saying things all to get a reaction out of him. He doesn’t expect YWS to help him either, because he knows YWS is here for fun and games. He doesn’t go along with YWS just because, either. He just made a wrong call by trusting that YWS reciprocated his feelings of friendship (not that it’s his fault at all), but that is certainly a moment of weakness he probably regrets.

---

In summary, I personally wasn’t all that put off by YWS’s behaviour, altho I agree the SJX incident is pretty much unforgivable. For me I read this more from the SQ perspective, because his strength shines in every moment and interaction with YWS and overshadows YWS by a lot, which is why the end makes sense to me.

In response to your question - yes YWS does get better when he’s finally totally convinced that SQ is not a hypocrite (although yeah it takes him a while to get there). And for me it’s nice to see Shen Qiao figure out himself, and also his feelings for YWS after, but also never once compromising himself for YWS.

But YWS is definitely less palatable than most other characters in danmei, so it’s natural if you dislike him and remain unconvinced! It happens XD If you hate this, I suggest you try Wu Shuang! Set in the same universe and timeline, and actually doesn’t have much angst - full on bantering between the main CP, constant veiled insults etc.

#qian qiu #asks

39 notes · View notes

bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 4 years

Text

Got7 Reaction: You surprise them at their dorm when they get back from tour

The boys were wrapping up their world tour and set to return to Korea. With all the preparations, rehearsals, and practices they had to do before they left it had been nearly a year since you were able to spend time with all of them. You missed them terrible, and they missed you as well. They would video chat with you every chance they got, even if it was just one of the members and for 5 minutes. They just wanted you to know they haven’t forgotten about you, their best friend. You had been there for them since the beginning. Having been childhood friends with Mark you basically grew up with the members too as they slowly became adopted as their own little family unit, you included. It was like having 7 overprotective brothers. But you weren’t complaining. The past years of your life you had spent with them had been the best. And you made countless precious memories with them.

Which brings you to where you are now. At their dorm, completely organizing a welcome back party on your own. Some of their staff insisted on trying to help you but you politely declined. This was something you wanted to do for them. So since 6 in the morning you had been running around the dorms like crazy. Setting up balloons, streamers, and crafting a giant welcome home sign. You plastered it with green glitter, green paint, and even drew little birds all over the sign. You were as big a fan of theirs as any. You decorated all their bedrooms with streamers and threw balloons all over the room. Some of the clear balloons you also filled with green glitter and bird shaped confetti. You cleaned the dorms from top to bottom, as they had left it an absolutely mess before they left.

You were right in the middle of cooking dinner for them when your phone started ringing. You saw it was a face time from Bambam. You answered it and were greeted with the wonderful sight of your 7 best friends’ smiling faces.

“Y/n!”

“We miss you!”

“We’re so happy to be home!”

A chorus of greetings and happy messages come pouring through the screen all at once as the members are shouting with happiness.

“Hey guys! I missed you all too. I take it your flight landed now?”

“Yes! We just got off the plane but of course Yugyeom insisted we call you right away.” Jinyoung has a teasing smirk on his face but the youngest is having none of it.

“That’s a lie, hyung! You were the one who was whining the whole time about how much you mi-” A hand is promptly slapped over his mouth to quiet his next words, but you already know what he was going to say but decide to play along.

“Ah my goodness! I didn’t think Yugyeom would miss me so much. You don’t have a crush on me do you?” His eyes widen to the size of saucers and vehemently denies this, frantically shaking his head back and forth. “I’m just messing with you. Sorry I couldn’t resist. I just missed you guys so much, you know?”

“Trust me we all missed you just as much if not more!” Jackson yells from the back.

“So y/n. You’re going to meet us at the dorms right? For the perfect welcome home?” Mark looks at you with pleading eyes and you almost back out of the trick you are going to play on them, but you steel your nerves and go along with it anyway.

“Actually I can’t. I’m really sorry everyone.” Before you have a chance to explain they’re all shouting in disappointment into the phone.

“What?!”

“No! What do you mean you can’t make it?”

“It’s been months y/n we miss you don’t do this to us and make us wait even longer.”

“I got called into work. I’m sorry everyone I wish I could come but, you’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to see me.”

“But tomorrow the company wants to meet with us to talk about our last show in Korea! We won’t get to see you then either! Please can’t you just call off once?” Youngjae is giving you puppy eyes which you are having trouble saying no to.

“Are you all going to support my ass if I get fired then?”

“Don’t test us y/n, you know we would in a heartbeat.” Jaebeom says this with so much sincerity and the way all the other members instantly agree makes your heart melt. You really do have the best friends in the world.

“Listen I appreciate that. Really I do. But I want to be able to support myself and not use you guys for your money. So we’ll just have to be patient a little bit longer okay? I promise you’ll see me sooner than you think.”

They reluctantly agree.

“Okay. Bye y/n. Have a good day at work! If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask one of us.”

“I’ll be sure to, don’t worry. I love you guys.”

“We love you too! Bye!” The line cuts off and you sigh before a small smile forms on your face. They’re going to be even more excited when they get home and see everything you’ve prepared now that they think they aren’t seeing you at all. You finish up cooking dinner and lay everything out on the table. You set the movies down on the coffee table in the living room lay out the pillows and blankets onto the couches. You know they will be home any minute, so you turn all the lights off and hide behind the couch. You hear the key go into the door knob and your heart races in anticipation.

“This doesn’t feel like a happy welcome home if y/n isn’t here.” That’s Mark’s voice.

“Agreed. Hey something smells really good in here, did the staff cook for us?” Bambam’s voice is the next one you hear. Suddenly the lights are turned on and you hear the member gasp. You stand up from behind the couch and hold your arms out.

“Well it’s a good thing I am actually here then.”

“Y/n!” The maknae line all run over and sweep you up in a bone crushing group hug while the rest of the members slowly make their way over and wait until they’re done fussing over you. When the younger members pull away each of the hyung line gives you a warm hug. Mark being last and you can feel some of his tears dampen your shirt. You give him a pat on his head and rub his head, something that has always comforted him since you both were little. He pulls away and wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater. The members are all walking around the dorms, looking at all the decorations with wonder and pure happiness in their eyes.

“Oh my god you even cooked for us!” Jackson rushes into the dining room and immediately sits down to try a bite of what you made. “Oh this is so good. It’s been way too long since we’ve had a home cooked meal.”

Soon you and all the other members sit around the table. You listen to them share stories from their tour. All of the funny things that happened, all of the amazing performances. But what you probably enjoy the most is seeing the way their eyes light up when they talk about their fans. How much they enjoyed seeing their smiling faces singing along to their songs, how the cheers kept them going when they were homesick. It makes you smile along with them.

“That sounds amazing. I’m happy you all had such a good time. I can’t imagine seeing the world like that. It sounds wonderful.”

“You can though, y/n!”

“What are you talking about Yugyeom?”

Jinyoung sets his chopsticks down and what he says nearly makes you choke on your food.

“You can come with us. On our next tour. We asked the company and they’re fine with it. Of course you’ll have to work and be a part of the staff so fans don’t get suspicious or so rumors don’t spread but.. you can come next time.”

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. We wouldn’t joke about something like that.” You feel tears welling up in your eyes as you walk over to Jinyoung’s side of the table. You pull him into a tight hug.

“Ah we’ve had enough of this sappy stuff for one day! Come on now y/n stop it.” But you just hug him tighter. Eventually he gives in and allows you to hug him, and you don’t miss the way he seems to relax. He might pretend like he doesn’t want your affections but you know him better than that by now.

“Thank you all. Seriously this is the best thing I could ever imagine happening!”

“And now we can spend more time with you!” Everyone is excitedly chatting amongst themselves as you move to start cleaning up dinner. Jaebeom grabs your wrist and shakes his head at you to scold you.

“You made all this for us. The least we can do is clean up.”

“Rock paper scissors to see which two are going to be stuck cleaning this mess! The rest of us can watch one of the movies y/n brought.”

Chaos ensues as they play until finally it seems Jackson and Bambam are going to be stuck doing the dishes.

“You cheated!”

“How on earth did we cheat, Jackson? You can’t cheat in rock paper scissors that’s just nonsense.”

“I don’t know how you did it Youngjae, but you did! Why am I always the one that loses and gets stuck doing these punishments?!”

As you listen to them bicker back and forth with one another you can’t help the fond smile that forms on your face. Even though they can be a little chaotic at times. Okay, a lot chaotic. They’re your family as much as you became theirs. And you thank the forces of the universe everyday for allowing fate to bring you all into each other’s lives.

#got7 scenario #got7 reaction #got7 imagine #got7 #jaebeom #mark tuan #jackson wang #park jinyoung #choi youngjae #bambam #kim yugyeom

85 notes · View notes

arrow-guy · 4 years

Text

The Lighthouse (8/??)

Summary: The town is sleepy, the people are nice enough, but life gets turned upsidedown when the God of Thunder literally falls out of the sky.

A/N: I know it won’t be enough, but questions will be fully answered soon enough! But until I can get around to that, please have this! A couple of idiots and more Loki

Pairing: ThorxReader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: None

Part 7

“How did you know where he was?”

I shrug and grab the cereal from the cupboard. “I heard a voice that told me to get up and when to stop driving. Everything else was just a gut feeling.”

“Was it Heimdall?” Thor asks.

“No, he said as much last night. But he heard the voice too.”

Thor sets bowls on the table and moves to get spoons. “Did he feel the same pull?”

“I don’t think so.” I grab the milk and take a seat at the table. “He didn’t seem to feel any compulsion.”

“But he was much further away from Loki’s location than you were.” Thor sits and pours himself a bowl of cereal. “It would make sense that you were the one guided to Loki’s location.”

I laugh. “I don’t know if I’d say I was guided. It was more like being dragged along behind a horse. I didn’t know exactly what was going to happen until the end. Even then, it wasn’t exactly pretty.”

He hums. “You did scare me half to death.”

I nodded. “I know, and I really am sorry about that.”

“I know you are.” He shoots me a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to apologize anymore, (Y/N). I understand why you kept it from me.”

“I know. I just still feel bad about the whole thing.”

“I know.”

We eat in silence and I nearly doze off at one point, but Thor reaches across the table and takes my hand. I shake my head and squeeze his hand before going back to my cereal. Thor finishes before me and waits till I’m done before taking my bowl and doing the dishes.

“When do you think he’ll wake?” Thor muses.

“I’m not sure. It took him weeks to crash land, and even then he showed up weeks after I found you.” I shrug. “I’m not even sure he showed up in the same fashion as you did.”

“Oh?”

“Heimdall and I were talking about why he bounced around so much while we were looking for him. My guess is that, whatever it was that messed with your memories, might’ve knocked him off course when Heimdall sent him away.”

“What does Heimdall think?”

“Heimdall doesn’t really have much to go off either. Everyone that I’m in contact with is just as informed as I am, which is to say, we know jack shit about the situation right now. But, if this is anything like when I found you, then it might be a few days till he starts to wake up. I had you here two before you woke up, but I don’t know how long you were out in those woods before I found you.”

Thor nods. “Then we can only hope that he’ll wake soon.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have any plans for the day?”

“Just working. New assignments have come in and we slept through most of the day, so I’m getting a late start.”

“Ah, sorry.”

“It’s no big deal, we both needed the rest.” I get up from the table and move across the room to kiss his cheek. “If you’ve got any ideas for dinner, let me know, okay?”

“Of course.” He smiles and gestures for me to go. “I’ll come get you for a break in a few hours.”

I grin and head for the stairs. “I’ll look forward to it.”

Thor quietly slips into my office and slits on the floor beside me. Daisy trails in shortly after and plops down beside him. She huffs when he doesn’t immediately scratch her ears.

“I take it you checked on Loki, then?” I ask, not looking away from my work.

“Yes.”

“Any updates?”

He shakes his head and rests his forehead on my thigh. He sighs when I comb my fingers through his hair. “Nothing so far.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He hasn’t even moved.” His shoulders slump and he leans a little more heavily against me. “It’s only been two days, but I can’t help being impatient.”

“I know. You’re worried about your brother. It’s only natural.”

“It’s strange, though,” he says. “He and I have always been at odds. We’ve fought countless times, but I’ve watched him die twice. I’ve had to mourn his loss twice. I’m not sure that I can go through that a third time.”

I push away from the desk slightly and take his face in my hands. “I’m sure that everything will be fine. He was out there for a long time, and we don’t know what kind of energy he expended.”

“Right.” He covers one of my hands with his. “I’m sure he just needs to rest.”

“He’s strong, Thor. I’m sure he’ll be up before we know it.”

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

“It’s nothing to thank me for.”

“You sell yourself so short,” he says softly. “I’ll make you recognize how wonderful you are one day.”

“Thor…”

He smiles. “But that won’t be today.” He hauls himself up from the floor. “I’ve distracted you for long enough, I’ll let you get back to work.”

“I’ll be done in half an hour. We can talk more then, if you want?”

He stoops down and kisses my forehead. “I’d like that.”

Thor pats his leg to get Daisy’s attention and gestures for her to follow him out of the room. She shoots me a tired look and I laugh as she trots out to the stairs after Thor. I do my best to finish with work, but it takes fifteen minutes longer than I initially expected. When I finally manage to make it downstairs, I collapse on the couch beside Thor.

“I had to talk them out of concussion induced pyrokinesis,” I mutter.

“I have no idea what that means,” Thor says.

I scrub my hands over my face and curl into his side. “Because it’s something that shouldn’t reasonably exist, even in fiction.”

He laughs. “Did you succeed?”

“Eventually. I just have to hope they don’t try to sneak it in somewhere else later on.”

“I’m sure you’ll prevail in the end.”

I shake my head. “I appreciate your optimism.”

He hums and kisses the top of my head. “We should talk.”

“I agree.”

“I don’t want to force anything on you,” he says. “We kissed two nights ago, but that doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“I think it should. After the time we’ve spent together and what we’ve been through, I know that it’s not just some schoolgirl crush. I actually like you. Especially when I get to think for myself about it.” His brow furrows. “Heimdall likes to meddle sometimes. But no one’s had to convince me that I like you.”

He smiles. “It looks like our roles have switched, doesn’t it?”

“It certainly does.” I take his hand. “But I meant what I said that night. My feelings for you are real. I’m not going to be shy about it, especially when I’m this comfortable with you.”

He sighs softly. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

I reach up and brush my fingers over his cheek. “You said I was wonderful earlier, but I don’t get how you can’t see how much light you put out into the world.”

“Maybe it’s just reflected back at me,” he offers.

“If that’s the case, then maybe I need to put you in front of a mirror. Reflect some of that energy directly back into you.” I push myself up from the couch and attempt to drag Thor up with me. “Come on. I’m hungry and I think we’ve still got stroganoff leftovers in the fridge.”

He laughs and allows himself to be led into the kitchen. “Do you always think with your stomach?”

“Not always, but you’re certainly one to talk!” Thor tries to look offended, but only succeeds in making himself laugh harder. “Your appetite is astounding.”

“I am a big man, (Y/N),” he says. “And beyond that, I am a god. Sometimes I need to eat more than a human does.”

“I know,” I dig around in the fridge for the leftovers. “I’m just poking a little fun.”

I glance back and find him leaning against the counter, arms folded, small smile playing at his lips. “I know you are.”

I pull the leftovers from the fridge. “You wanna try this the way my grandfather liked to eat it?”

Walking past Loki’s room a couple of days later, I heard a quiet shuffling. Thor hadn’t mentioned any kind of change in his brother when we talked earlier, so I open the door just a crack and peek inside.

Loki is sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes. I almost step into the room, but I stop myself short, realizing that he doesn’t know me. I don’t want him to panic and not have any way to calm him down.

Instead, I run out to the back yard to let Thor know that Loki is awake.

“What?” he yells back.

“He’s awake!” I holler. “Come inside, I’m gonna need your help!”

He calls out his confirmation and I head back inside. I grab a glass of water for Loki before I go back upstairs and very, very slowly open the door.

He sits with his head in his hands, and I can’t tell if he’s heard me come in. I gently knock on the door to get his attention and his head jerks up at the sound. I wave and step into the room.

“It’s good to see you awake,” I say. “We were starting to think you’d be out forever.”

“What?”

“We found you almost five days ago.” I cross the room to hand him the glass of water. “You didn’t even move until today, I don’t think.”

“Who is ‘we’?” he asks.

“It’s just Thor and I.”

“Thor?” He perks up slightly.

“Yeah, he should be here soon.”

“Where is he?” He shoots up from the bed and I stumble back when he reaches out for me. “Tell me, woman!”

I drop the water and throw my hands up to shield myself. Loki never makes contact, and it takes a moment for me to realize that there’s a semi-visible barrier between us. I stare at my hands, surprised.

“Where is my Brother!” Loki yells.

He pounds against the shield and I stumble over my own feet and fall to the floor. The shield flickers briefly, but I manage to hold it steady. This only serves to further infuriate him and I cringe each time he slams his fists against the shield.

“Heimdall, what do I do?!”

“Hold the shield and wait for Thor.”

“That’s it?!”

“What is it that you expect me to do, (Y/N)?”

“I don’t know, I’m freaking out, here!” I yell for Thor, and hope that he can hear me. “Stop punching the shield, you’re just gonna wind up hurting yourself!”

“Drop the shield, and I’ll show you just what the meaning of hurt is,” Loki hisses.

“You know what, I don’t really like the sound of that.”

He pushes harder, and I can feel the shield straining under my hold. I can faintly hear Thor’s heavy footsteps in the stairwell, and I push all that I can into maintaining the shield. Just as cracks start to spiderweb across the surface,Thor steps into the room. Loki sees him and stops his assault against my magic, relaxing enough that I can let the shield go. I lie back on the floor, one arm flung over my face, taking deep heaving breaths.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” Thor asks.

I nod and point at Loki. “Put him in a bubble till you could get here.”

“You put him in a bubble?!”

“He moved faster than I expected. It was the first thing that popped into my head.”

“Why are you on the floor?”

“He punched the shield and startled me.”

I hear him shift towards his brother. “You tried to attack her?!”

“You say that as if I’m supposed to know who she is or where I am.”

“You shouldn’t have to know someone to know not to attack them.” Thor crouches down beside me and helps me sit up. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

“It’s fine, he doesn’t know where he is.” I feel Loki’s eyes on me and I glance up at him. “What?”

Loki snorts and turns his attention to Thor. “Really, brother? Another human?”

“Excuse me? You’re in my house, in my bed. If it weren’t for this human, you’d probably be choking on sand right about now.”

Loki’s brows pull together and he looks to his brother for confirmation. Thor just nods.

He looks at me with an almost pained expression. “Well then. I apologize.”

“Good.”

He nods and immediately frowns when his hand makes contact with his chest. He pinches the fabric between his fingers and pulls it away from his body.

“What in Odin’s name am I wearing?”

“My clothes,” Thor says.

“Your clothes?”

I lift my hand. “I made them smaller. They’re clean, I promise.”

“You?”

“Yeah, the magic was relatively easy compared to what I was doing to track you down.”

He blinks rapidly, looking genuinely surprised. “And how did you learn this magic?”

“It’s a bit convoluted,” I explain. “Heimdall did what he could to help, but I essentially just had to force the magic to do what I wanted.”

"And you've been privy to this training with Heimdall, have you, brother?"

"As much as I can be," Thor says. "I've only been able to speak with Heimdall once since I arrived, and it's solely because (Y/N) acted as a bridge."

Loki scowls, unsatisfied with the answer. "Explain. Now."

Thor obliges and explains everything. I occasionally interject, filling in anything that Thor misses.

“Why would you spend all that energy on finding me, though?”

“(Y/N) believes that you may hold the key to understanding what happened to us,” Thor says. “Our memories were tampered with, and you’re the only person I can think of who wasn’t accounted for.”

“I see...” Loki stroked his chin. “And you truly remember nothing?”

“Have I any reason to lie to you, brother?”

“Of course not.”

“Do you remember anything?” I ask.

“Everything, actually.”

“I-really?”

“Yes. I believe that I can restore Thor’s memories as well, but it won’t be pleasant.”

“Do it,” Thor says. “I need to know what happened.”

“Hold on a moment,” I say. “How do we know you won’t just make things worse?”

“Why would I do that? He’s dumb enough as is. If anything, this would be an improvement.” I glare at him and he lifts his hands in surrender. “I don’t want to make things worse. Just to share the knowledge.”

“Fine.”

Loki shuffles closer to Thor and places his hands on either side of his face. Only when Thor nods does he close his eyes. The familiar hum of magic fills the room, but it's different from when I cast. The sound is concentrated near Loki's hands, and I can only assume that it's because he's far more skilled than I am that the sound doesn't fill the entire room.

The magic courses through Thor's body and I nearly lurch forward when his spine goes rigid. I stop myself halfway when I realize that whatever Loki's doing to restore his memories will most likely drain him of whatever energy he previously had. I sit back and fold my hands in my lap and force myself to just sit and watch. I have to remind myself to stay put when Thor begins to make small pained noises. He wanted to go through with it, and interrupting the spell could be dangerous.

Loki's eyes snap open with a flash of green light before his hands fall away from Thor's face. Thor's shoulders relax momentarily as he slowly remembers where he is, and he recoils and scrambles away from his brother. My first instinct is to move to help him, but when I reach out to him and he flinches away from my touch, I start to worry.

"He's in shock," Loki says. "Barely anything that he saw was happy. In spite of how optimistic he is most of the time, he’s experienced many hardships, as of late."

"Tell me what happened on that ship." He hesitates and I frown. "How am I supposed to help if I don't know what happened?"

"You truly want to help?"

"Of course I do."

"You know what we are. Do you understand the dangers that follow us?"

"I'm well aware of the trouble you get yourselves into."

"I see." He sighs and shifts uncomfortably on the carpet. "I'll tell you what happened, then."

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

Part 9

Okay, concrete answers next chapter, I promise. But hey! Loki’s back and he’s actually awake this time, so that’s progress!

As always, if you liked this chapter, please let me know! LIke, reblog, comment, or shoot me an ask and tell me all about that shit, because I always wanna know what you guys are thinking!

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapter, please let me know!

Tag list:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @breezy1415, @feelmyroarrrr, @darling-loki, @lemonadeorange73, @princess-unicorn124, @hermionie-is-my-queen, @tofeartheunknown, @queenoftheunderdark, @avengerscompound

This fic:

@chelzwwefan, @claire-of-the-country, @sunflowers-and-swear-words, @heystucky, @annathewitch, @thebdelliumlady, @myfuturisticallysteadycollector, @inumorph, @slitherysneke, @bojabee, @givemethatgold, @shynara51, @lokis-high-priestess/ @bluestaratsunrise

#thor odinsonxreader #readerxthor odinson #thor odinson x reader #reader x thor odinson #thorxreader #readerxthor #thor x reader #reader x thor #thor odinson #thor #the golden boi #reader insert marvel fic

48 notes · View notes

amandlas · 4 years

Text

almost gone (in these little moments get your cards out)

tfota | jude x cardan, she doesn’t come back au, no smut, hurtful and punishable tbh (ao3)

entry to jurdan week 2020 by @jurdannet - day 7: wild card! a what-if au had jude tried to make a new life in maine (don’t worry, cardan shows up). heaps of angst. little payout. sorry in advance. trigger warnings: violence, guns, shooting, and death mention.

[canon divergence from twk ending. title from “lay your cards out” by poliça]

gone. she’s gone. avulsed from her land, never hers, and her lover, never loved. the mortal world welcomes her with wide arms, arms that are shorter than she remembers, a little less homely, much less magical. after all, how can the ordinariness of television, powder tea, and surround sound compare to the true magic of faerieland?

vivi says it will be well. of course she does. why wouldn’t she, with her strong blood and pointed ears.

jude stares and stares at the tv. at the window. at the door. she’s not so stupid as to believe it will allay her want, but like programming, she follows the routine nonetheless.

two months. oak is recalcitrant to her teachings. vivi is buoyant in her obliviousness. they do not see her. she cannot see herself. the closest thing she has to a mirror is miles away, attending a new husband and parading with stars dangling from rounded ears. if taryn were to come, jude thinks she wouldn’t recognize either of them.

she is ashamed to watch her pillowcase blotted with tear stains at nightfall.

it’s more embarrassing than waking up the first time to menstrual blood staining her sheets, two stories up in madoc’s estate, knowing not what it meant or what to do.

jude duarte avoids as superfluous emotions as sadness or hopelessness. being a mortal in faerie, those sentiments would wash her out of focus, riddle her with doubt, and with a certainty would so far as kill her.

but, she thinks, i am not in faerie anymore. i am no longer in a place where blood is a better find than tears. where eyes are dry and swords are sated by throats and bellies.

perhaps in her native world it is safer. that’s what jude wanted this whole time, was it not? safety. if she were meant to feel relief, she should feel it now.

survival feels wet against her cheek.

he keeps slugging his damn arms. jude tugs oak roughly to her, fixing his stance, and urges him to strike.

“will i still be king someday?”

as per usual, he tries deflection to talk out of a combat lesson. jude is unmoved. “yes.”

“are you sure?”

she shifts her weight to her other leg. “there is no other way.” his form is poor. she identifies his weaker side and rounds slowly to it. “the crown answers to blood. raise your elbow higher. protect your face.”

oak listens for once. his voice is shrill still. “so there is no one else?”

of course there’s someone else. another bearer of the crown, another royal to lead their nation. but jude grits her teeth and resorts to her best asset: lying. “no. no one else.”

her little brother pauses, their lesson half-present in his mind. intrigued, she watches the scrunch of his brows as he formulates a thought. “unless cardan has a child. then there would be another.”

if he sees her freeze, he doesn’t mention it. the scenario turns her thoughts errant, threatens her with a conniption. some sick part of her wishes to linger on the possibility, but with oak before her and posed to fight, she cannot allow herself that masochism.

oak stands expectant, his arm growing weary and slouching. the least she can do is not lie.

“i suppose.”

he remembers none of the stance the next evening.

“no word from dad. taryn either.”

jude lifts her face to catch vivi rummaging through envelopes of mail. “what, were you expecting miracles? a shift in the weather?” she scoffs, coming back to her task. counting money. hard-earned cash from late shifts of all services and flavors. espionage, theft, the occasional sparring match. the underground fae crime ring taints the soul, but it pays in fifties.

vivi interrupts her quick fingers. “he liked you best, you know. dad always gave more of himself to you than to me or taryn.” she notices her brother sitting at the couch, leans in to rumple his hair. “or oak.”

jude shoots vivi a cruel look, an exasperated look. “what good that did to me.”

her sister’s eyes are fierce as a growling cat where they pin her in place. “quite some good, your highness.”

jude does a fucking great job at not screaming.

she hates to think of the name.

what could his true name be, she wonders? if she commanded it, before the brokering of their epically failed marriage for his release, jude asks herself if he’d given it. if he’d hated her that much more.

her mind swirls with reminders of midnight black eyes, of fingers against her lips and the abstruse feeling of possession by another being.

she won’t think of it. she won’t dream of it. she won’t aerate the two syllables in a whisper of dark sky. she certainly won’t be pelted with the scariest word, the four letters she refused since childhood to allow a place in her. the word that died with a blade on its back as it ran to the kitchen. the word that meant a certain foolishness, a certain danger. she won’t. it’s her new mantra: she won’t, she won’t, she won’t.

falsehoods have always been her strongest asset.

“we shouldn’t be watching this shit,” heather sighs between mouthfuls of red licorice.

they’re leaning on the couch, lined up like soldiers catching their breath amidst pilgrimage to battle. the television blares high. jude notices heather has shifted her free hand to cover oak’s eyes.

she inspects the playing show more closely. one second there’s a wide shot of scenery, familiar in its medieval setting, and the next there’s a person. a striking young woman with silver hair like new iron falling in tresses across pale shoulders.

the figure is so intimate it nearly makes jude jump. “a princess,” she murmurs.

heather shakes her head. “no. oh no. well, sorta.” oak squirms in her hand, breaking free of her hold, to which she sighs and acquiesces. “sure, i guess, but more than that. it’s complicated.”

from her place next to oak, jude nods. “royals tend to be.”

her sister’s lover, or ex lover (certainly an ex something), barrels on. she uses hand gestures to further her explaining. “her father was the mad king, but she was only a baby when he got dethroned. she was exiled from her home, far across the sea. then she married a powerful man, leader of a tribe, and sorta grew into herself. after he died, his rivals and his people tried to disbar her. turns out she had more in her arsenal than was believed.” heather wags her eyebrows at the show.

jude couldn’t be more confused until a huge, black winged creature crosses the screen. “are those…”

“yup,” heather confirms. “the mother of beasts. and her husband’s people, they followed her. even though he was gone, and was their real ruler, and it was unacceptable that she rule on the basis of who she was, they still accepted her as leader.”

jude stiffens. “really.”

they made it seem so close, so easy to reach. the princess-who-wasn’t-a-princess straightens her spine, amplifies her voice. when she speaks, people heed.

heather slices her reverie. “because she has magic.” she points to the overflying monsters. “badass.”

ah. because. she. has. magic.

a non-magic girl slouches back in her non-magic couch, watching a non-magic box, consumed by baneful imaginings.

unprepossessing. that is what they called her. ugly, if wine or fury loosened their vocabulary. how had i let someone who called me that touch me at the collarbones? kiss my throat? call me his sweet villain? jude has no answer. she replays and loops the plethora of adjectives her dear husband and company had called her. wormfood. unsightly. repellent. direful. unbecoming. synonyms alike to the same derivative, final word.

mortal.

the circle of worms, she and taryn. daughter of dirt.

she wishes she were nobody’s daughter.

it takes her three nights after that to realize now she really is nobody’s daughter.

her exile hits the half year.

bride of faerieland. the mortal queen.

a fugacious dream, she finalizes. no more than a fleeting child’s wish. had she remained at home, no, in faerie , she’d never have been queen. not without the people’s approval and not with her mortality. a hollow crown, a fool’s wreath.

she cements it into her brain, sears it to memory. she never. would. have been. a true. queen.

oh, but what a vision they would’ve been. jude, stiff boned with graying hair, and cardan beside her, youthful as ever and tethered to her with ball and chain. unescapable. a fresh minted prison for him. he’d be gagged to ask for her kisses, much less beg for them. when her skin sagged and time plundered her heart, how quick he’d be to run from her. a bat out of hell.

when it processes that she’s thought of his name, written it to existence in the myriad of her thoughts, she breaks into a cold sweat.

she won’t call her exile a blessing. there’s many descriptors for the singular event that redefined the last leg of her fleeting teenage life, and blessing won’t cut it. recently, however, jude has had the chance to add timely to the list.

jude kills a troll. he’d been preying on humans the same time as her abscond to the human realm. this particular troll began his horror streak after developing a taste for the helpless glaze in their eyes at final moments before teeth sunk into shoulders, the way they rolled back or if the occasion came up that the eyelids would fall crookedly. the funny look of a drugged, passed out, mindless loon. except these were dead loons, victims to the desire of a beast. these humans had been lured into the abandoned subway tunnel, but jude had strolled there all on her own.

“that bitch carries the devil,” commented one of the fae. gathered in a ring, stealing glimpses of her over their shoulders.

waiting for her pay, jude kicked the tip of her boot into the solid ground, arms crossed. “that bitch can hear. i may not have fae hearing, but i’d abstain from testing me were i in your shoes.”

the fae she had spoken to was of the sea, and was barefoot. irony not lost on her.

sooner than expected, jude duarte developed a reputation. successful runs, frightening recounts of what she did to earn her money, it swiveled up and circled around her like a tornado. some fae considered testing if the legend was bigger than the person, and some fae had lost the use of a limb. she knew she’d been strong before, but this new world taught her what an unstoppable force she was. had always been.

they give her a nickname. fearful of evoking the name given to her at birth, though being human it had no effect on her. still, shadows shivered at her wake, watching, consuming jude duarte’s trail of defeated foes. in the damp, cold streets of maine, in a world she long since had cut true tethers from, she’s reborn as the wrath.

in her mind, somewhere in the bowels of the elfhame palace, the court of shadows laugh up a storm.

oak grows less querulous and more capitulant to his role. jude in turn decides to do the same with her old-but-now-new home amidst mortals.

she watches tv. repaints her bike. buys new clothes. eats toasted waffles with peanut butter and honey.

when heather mentions a museum across town, jude no longer stares at her blankly. she doesn’t fumble or grasp for words. her foot’s planted on the ground, steady and strengthening.

she becomes inclined to music. an old trait, now in a new ambient. vivi glamours money to grant her a gift, a small excuse to cheer her up. the gadget fits most of her hand, sensitive to her tact and bright during the darker hours. heather hauls her laptop once in a while to upload new songs onto it, teaching jude how to sift through the list.

music player in her hand, jude sheepishly assembles a queue of songs that she likes. tunes that have replaced bards in taverns or notes plucked from lutes.

an aggressive song by a vexed wife goes first, the one with words that hit jude harsher than she wants to admit, the title saying not to hurt yourself. another one called once upon a time. a wedding song turned rock, a “strong electric guitar” according to heather, the singer belting about being loved tenderly. paint it, black by the stones that roll. where once her fingers would’ve stumbled over the gadget’s buttons, today she masters with ease.

the stunted child, the wraith of a human girl she once was rears her head in jude’s dreams. she gains color with each passing day.

by the time her exile hits eight months, jude begins the transition. she intends it to life, gives it air to breath.

i, jude duarte, will be happy in the mortal world.

she wills herself to change on a molecular level. when the desire of faerieland hightails back, she slams it to the back of her mind. she transforms the pain into power, into will. the scar left behind from her banishment becomes fuel for her new life. for the transformation into who jude could truly be in this wide, marvelous, enormous human world.

they don’t want you. they have not once wanted you.

he doesn’t want you. not like you do him.

doesn’t

want

you.

move on, she begs herself. move on. move on. move on. stop chasing after ghosts.

the wrath is elbow deep in a goblin’s guts. he swindled bryern a bagful of gold coin. it came down to her to rescue it back, and assure the impediment of a repetition. that’s when she met her.

“hnnnnggg…” moans a figure across the room.

jude ignored the drugged out junkies on her way in, leaving them in the back burner while working through the bulk of her job. but the turncloak goblin is dead, and was that noisy mound moving?

“help…” she hears.

jude rarely considers herself so altruistic. but the meekness of the plea pulls her across the room, tugs her legs to the sprawled person.

human. a girl, dirty blue hair all too reminiscent of nicasia, but not so polished as to pass for a sea princess. no, this girl appeared on the edge of a precipice, thin coat of sweat across her body.

“more,” the girl begs.

like clockwork. jude squats down to get closer. “want me to get you out of here?”

weakly, the girl nods. “she’ll find me.”

“what’s your name?”

the stranger smacks her lips, eyes rolling in her head. “lolli.”

lolli turned out to be an easy haul but a terrible map. jude exasperatedly dragged her through alleys and corners, hearing the laments of her companion through the journey. lolli got sidetracked from her ride-or-dies, see, shot up a bit too much powder - something she called never - and had an urgent need to return to the clan.

jude’s self-preservation rang high when she knocked on the selected door and met a fae two heads taller than she. his red skin shone bright in the doorway, his glamour invisible to jude’s geas.

“thank you for bringing pop back to us. i’m qylin” he says across from jude, having invited her in and given her a once-over. “uh, you mortal?”

she’s declined a drink, but accepted a chair. “as they come.”

qylin moves closer. “and you took out melbor? pop’s supplier?”

“is pop meant to be lolli?”

“her full name’s lollipop.”

“oh. i see.” a red flush runs across her face. “melbor huh? didn’t catch his name. i did catch both his kidneys though.”

qylin whistles. “damn. a mortal.” he pronounces it with wonder. nothing like she’s used to. it falls with disbelief in her ears.

“that’s quite a might you got in you. here.” in an outstretched hand, jude finds a tiny acorn that no doubt has a message inside it. “if you ever quit meandering for coin and want to run with the real wolves, i’ll answer.”

wolf. she’d been a girl and she’d been a mortal. then she’d been wormfood and after that she’d been a queen. couldn’t say jude once considered herself a wolf, or imagined running with them. then again, she had become so many things far from her imagination.

the ward. the mortal. the queen. the wrath. her list of faces ran endless, each mask pressing heavier and heavier on her fragile composition.

in the beginning, vivi congratulated her like a preschooler with a trophy. “look at you, making an effort. i told you home wasn’t so bad.”

months later they’ve turned to “you are too far out” accompanied by the tapping of her foot, a face riddled by concern. “you’re jumping into danger again.”

vivi didn’t know how jude missed being afraid.

if she dreams of cardan, the sting pulls her awake and breathless into the chirping crickets of the dark hours.

ninth month. her exile is a baby somewhere, born and breathing. a marking reminder of her incipient rule cut short.

jude duarte makes a decision. she steps outside of the girl she used to be, the teenager latched to a world that had not once been hers.

the acorn is light in her hands. she splits it open, unrolling the paper inside, and when she sees the address and phone number it takes her a total of eighteen minutes to pack.

saying goodbye without telling them it’s goodbye cracks a new wound in her already shattering heart.

oak thinks she’s going to the gym. vivi thinks she’s babysitting oak. heather might’ve had a clue, but she kept silent while jude hugged her, muttering a quick thanks for watching her brother while vivi came from the post office.

it appears, after years, she’d learned to say farewell to all things that were close to her.

qylin refrained from asking questions, just as jude liked it. she watched, studied, learned, kept to her rank while scheming for more. the room and cot qylin offers is as home as any she’s had.

when she urged cardan to inveigle the princess of the undersea, it led them to a hidden alcove draped with vines, to a couch where she’d bared more of jude duarte than she had in her entire life. the memory is both a memory and the dream that recurs most in her sleep. their tryst, their unculminated tumble, their fumbled connection, whatever people would want to call it. in her sickest hours, jude allowed herself to think of it with a tender gaze, with a pink shiny filter, with the dreaded word she’d been on the run from for years.

that you hate me. tell me that you hate me.

“i hate you,” jude whispers. “i hate you and i married you and i hate you.” the two phrases weren’t mutually exclusive.

lollipop has been gone for weeks, but her junkie spirit is alive.

the wrath evaded nevermore like cats did water, but the gradual acclimation to qylin’s ring fills her with misplaced ease. it took them damn near six months, but jude finally surrendered her arm.

it pricks, the needle, like the pinch on her finger when cardan stabbed her for the salt in her blood. for the antidote to faerie fruit.

she’s high. she’s at a revel in new york and she’s vulnerable and she’s high.

it doesn’t take long for jude to cement her decision to never do drugs in her natural life again. but once that’s been engraved in her think tank, the world turns mellow and technicolor. it tells her to enjoy while it lasts.

she’s surrounded by leaves, platter of fruit, dancing pixies and slender fae. painful reminders of the home she direly tries to forget.

in a mirage, she pictures black curls under a golden crown of flowers. cruel lips forming a smile.

as if underwater, ears plugged with chlorine liquid, jude hears a seductive voice to her side. “what a pretty thing.” a woman. tall and thin, fae ears and slit green eyes. eyes that fall down to jude’s chest. “busty.”

not all quite there, jude struggles but succeeds in recognizing the tone coming from her courtier. and before she can respond, to her surprise, a second woman emerges from the back of her new companion.

she’s got beautiful straight teeth and straighter talons. “careful. saphine can bite.”

after being called hideous half a life, this come-on douses jude awake like a bucket of water. she studies the two girls and the raking nature of their eyes. she thinks perhaps if she paid more attention she could’ve recognized that in cardan’s eyes. could’ve told it apart from the hatred, the arrogance and the disgust.

without preemptiveness, without pause to think it over, jude tugs both girls to her. her body busts in sensation.

she remembers cardan in a maze, draped in languor and gold faerie drug and girls. black shark eyes watching her while horned girls had their way with him. one kissed his neck, she remembers, and another his knee.

“here,” she scoffs, pushing down sapphire or whatever’s head to her knees. “above my boot.”

a chuckle. “feisty, huh?” she hears, and she truly doesn’t care.

next, jude unceremoniously pulls the second girl up to her neck, leading them exactly where and how she wants them. she’s a constellation of heat and brief spikes of libido.

does cardan think of her? when he’s in bed or bedding someone new, whichsoever activity he performs at night, does jude cross his mind? does he remember her? sometimes in the ridiculous seclusion of her mind she thought cardan would be faithful to her once upon a time. she could slap her own cheeks for such foolishness.

his face appears stark in her memory. deep hollows on his collarbones, raven black hair and eyes devouring her like fruit. his lips, they’d been so soft.

jude leans her head back and laments her ghosts. she inhales sharply.

after the hot spell passes, after jude feels the trickle of tongue make its way up to her thigh and another down her chest, she pushes them away.

why? she doesn’t know. jude is only sure of the fact that she’s tired and doesn’t want this and instead wants a glass of water then maybe a bed.

saphine tilts her head, rolls her eyes, and waves her off, moving along. jude is thankful, for the first time, at being so easily discarded.

a month later makes two years since her infamous exit.

“unless cardan has a child,” oak said. many moons past.

the memory of him brings upon a dream. the opposite to her listless, watered-down dreams she grew used to having.

she sneaks through the palace, it’s name near forgotten to her, crawling against walls or chasing shadows.

he’s there. he’s in many of her dreams and he’s there in this one. hair astray. tilted crown. reclined on a couch, his tail freely swishing left and right.

if he remembers their pact of marriage, he doesn’t bother to show it. no mourning, no sadness, no desperation. unlike the other dreams of him, in this he’s placated. joyful, even, in a way so seldom his character.

jude’s understanding is little.

something squirms in cardan’s arms. when she gets closer it nearly takes her breath away to a fault, threatening to kill her. it’s a baby. older than a newborn but small enough to fit in his arms, to paw at his chin and gargle.

no test could prepare her for this sight.

and cardan. he’s absolutely changed. reinvented in the light of this babe, this creature jude hasn’t seen the face of. because that is his spawn, the tiny tail swishing from its rear indicates as much. that, combined with the black tresses, leaves no doubt that she is looking at a king and his heir.

in the depths of her shriveled dignity, jude duarte senses another break, another disgusting branched crack.

her husband is inconsolable in love. his bright smile slashes wide across his face, softening his sharp cheekbones. he lifts the baby to his face, pressing their noses together, cooing. she hardly recognizes him. but she recognizes the lack of a need for her.

this was a nightmare.

cardan lets the child descend, adjusting them in his lap with heartbreaking gentleness. to her horror, the toddler turns and pierces jude in place with raven black eyes.

she runs cold all over. the child has the look of a girl.

her coloring is unique, darker than cardan’s and any fae’s. it’s closer to… jude’s own. and below the black curls, which she realizes now is actually dark amber brown, there’s ears. rounded, untipped, human ears.

jude is utterly unmoored. the scene melts. she wakes up to hands descending upon her, to frightened questions of why she was screaming and that she’s woken up half of the gang. they cannot get a straight answer from her, and after plowing her with cups of water and aspirins from a quick run to the mini-store, the most they get from jude duarte is a somber face and a fall into her pillow.

jude becomes a gallery of girls. she’s judy, and she’s martina, and she’s amelie with the occasional latika. running in qylin’s underworld gang requires her to. police don’t catch her, fae detectives don’t either, and if by chance she needed to run an errand the name she gave was one of a basinful of fake i.d. cards.

“i once had a twin,” she offhandedly told someone.

“what was her name?” they asked.

jude slurped from a tall gas station soda cup. “doesn’t matter.”

three years. the earnest smile she’d lost a number of winters ago returns tenuously but surely. as a sliver, as a tiny reminder, as a planted seed showing the very smallest evidence of root.

a pixie joins their ranks. young and limber. her cerulean skin reminds jude of a blue court under the sea.

“fand,” she greets the mismatched group. “newborn nomad.”

jude welcomes her by the form of a nod, turning back to the display of headshots splashed on the table, organizing it into a semblance of order.

she feels fand dance around her, suspicious to her presence. she thinks for a hot minute that fand might want to cause trouble. jude focuses her attention to the knife hidden between her breasts.

the pixie stares at her, unabashed, and right as jude thinks to reach to her chest, fand grows the courage to ask. “you. do i know you?”

the question falls flat. “i don’t believe so. there’s little chance our paths crossed.”

fand squints. “well, i’ve just left elfhame. finally broke from that unruly mess.”

lightning forks in jude’s chest, attacking her nervous system. an old phantom possesses her body, causing her to still.

the pixie moves closer, inspecting. “your look, it’s so familiar.”

jude understands in a minute.

taryn. fucking taryn. always, forever, impossible-to-be-rid-of taryn.

summoning years of falsehoods and acting experience, jude breaks eye contact to laugh and feign offense. “all mortals look the same to fae, i’m sure.”

that is not a lie. she learned that from the wickedest prince himself.

when fand slips away from the gang two nights later, jude forces herself to block it from memory.

she’s almost twenty-one. in faerie she might have died since she was eleven.

here, she’s got a family. a rough knit circle of confidants, people she rarely thinks twice about trusting anymore. her music keeps her company, and her growing arsenal of skills, of wins, it warms the smallest piece of her soul.

how could she have hated such a place?

“counterinsurgents. we calculate two dozen below the bridge,” jekka, qylin’s second, explains over a map.

jude’s focus is precise, uninterrupted.

the years, the lack of practice from a simple lack of need to, makes it so that she doesn’t religiously check the perimeter, doesn’t spot a green face. his dark tuft of hair and hooked nose, spying from the window, hidden among leaves and wind.

if she had seen him, she might’ve remembered her old friend. if she’d seen him, she might’ve broken down in tears, or begged for a word, or done none of those things to help jekka figure out their positions for the next day’s raid.

“watch for the sniper!” one of her gang yells.

jude ducks, experienced muscles leading her across the space, the shielded street with broken streetlights. abandoned houses repurposed for criminal night creatures sprawl one after the other. they’ve chosen one a stone throw from the river, so close they could taste the salt while counting bloody fae or human scalps.

five, six, seven leaps and she’s out of shot, crammed into a wedge in the building. she took down three counterinsurgents already. the wrath ran rampant today.

another figure jumps out the window, two yards from her, and takes off running through the backside of the house, the one facing the water. swift as the wind, jude pursues in fervor.

bam.

first the noise like thunderclap. then the pain.

oh.

when they screamed sniper, she expected an arrow. she expected a taut bow and a sharp, easily removed tip of metal. not a bullet.

in the end, jude has been a galaxy of abridges.

she’s had abridged parents, gone before her eighth birthday. that led to an abridged innocence and an abridged life in their rudimentary home in maine. she’s had an abridged relationship with her sisters. an abridged sense of belonging.

she had an abridged romance with a prince and king. that chapter being severed short was, as they all were, not her fault.

she had an abridged marriage. an abridged kingdom rule.

to be culminated in an abridged life. thin and meager.

she hopes no matter how small her garden has been, that each poison flower and cherry blossoms she’s sowed has done its best to enrich the tiny piece of universe allotted to her.

she should’ve known when she saw the river.

in water all began, and in water it ends.

there are no screams. no chaos. the gang has left her, chasing their foes further up the street, looking to corner them. jude? she’s going for a dip. a passage to the next life. she’ll float to it. gargle on the last of life.

“huh,” she whispers.

the ache is pungent in her back, the bullet hitting close to the spine but not quite. deadly, though. deadly for sure.

she wasn’t queen of nothing. she was queen of death, the hierophant of misery. her whole life has been a string of it. well, no longer.

jude duarte reaches the water’s edge, using each fiber of her strength to not fall in quite yet.

in the haziness of all that she’d done and all that she’d run from, he comes to her. in dream, in flesh. she’s not yet in the water.

“jude.”

this has to be the mark between. the straddling line of life and death. because somehow, impossibly, she hears him.

“jude!”

or?...

her brows scrunch in confusion, a naked toe in the river already. she wants to turn, but the seeping life at her back won’t allow it.

she doesn’t need to. long arms surround her, someone moving in front of her to read her face, to see what lies there.

it’s him.

jude’s lids droop. her back is on fire, and she burns in the flames. he’s barely changed. matured into his looks, if she had to put it into words. his tar eyes, slender lips, pointed nose and legendary black curls suddenly remind her of being seventeen.

there’s so much in his face she can barely read any of it. “is it you? is it really you?” he demands.

she’s always been jude. who jude became, that was a different question. one she no longer cares to ask.

“i found you. i finally finally found you.” his voice is incredulous.

is he the harbinger of the beyond? was that his role to play this entire time? her thoughts eddy and murk the more time passes with a hole in her back.

it is an arcane thing, in truth, to be held by a creature she’s craved and despised. her body responds on its own by pressing closer, seeking warmth.

he might be crying. could also be the angle of the sun.

“please,” he whispers.

she hasn’t said his name in years.

“cardan.”

his eyes fall closed.

her mouth repeats the motion, recognizing the familiarity of his name. cardan. once her king. her husband. the sight of him brings forth a wave of emotions, cascading through her like a waterfall.

cardan tugs her close to a punishingly tight degree. “i thought you dead.” he speaks into her ear. “we searched for years. i thought you were gone. gone, jude.”

the word pulls her back, creates distance between them. jude lets herself get lost in his eyes, those splendid eyes, bottomless and infinite, a serene look on her face as she responds:

“almost.”

the fractious prince too arrogant to be a ruler does not stand in front of her. this man is similar, but a sense of strength she hadn’t seen is forefront and shining. jude wishes she could appreciate it.

if only this weren’t the last time.

“so it is you.” she says it with wonder, with a detachment that lets her turn away from his arms and face the river.

cardan’s intake of breath indicates he has finally seen her wound. he twists his neck, shouts to someone far back, hidden in the houses. “shes hurt! SHE’S HURT!” his voice is raw and desperate.

jude walks into the water.

a hand at her arm stops her, keeps her in place, but she shrugs it off with newfound confidence and turns around. cardan’s incredulous face sparks memories of faraway lands and kingdoms.

“what are you doing?” he demands.

jude’s lips break into a smile. how she missed his voice. she walks back until water reaches her waist, then her chest, then the crown of her head.

“stop!” she hears.

the layers of the girl she was, who she is, who she could’ve been, they merge. yes, she had missed faerie. yes, she had wanted cardan. yes, she had wept tears of rage at knowing she could not have either of them back. if she cried now, her tears would turn to river water, melding into the beautiful greater whole.

a hand grips her chest. another tugs on her neck, urging her up, up, up.

air. sweet air in her lungs.

jude gasps, her plans interrupted. the bulletwound at her back sears at the salt water, the sensation so intense it actually numbs her and leaves her feeling very little.

cardan presses her flush to his body. he raises her up, and his face is marked with horror and betrayal.

“how could you?” he weeps. his features are anguished, desperate. he’s shaking her by the shoulder. “how could you?”

jude smiles a wet smile. “remember when you pushed me into the rapids? and you forced my twin to abandon me and kiss your cheeks? i can’t remember a time when i’ve been warm since then. the water, it was cold. like a leech.”

“the roach is gathering for a salve. jude, you will be okay. you need to get out now.”

she realizes there’s something wrong. “wait. no. that’s a lie. i am a liar.” she tilts her face to his, eyes meeting. “you were warm. behind the throne room and in your bed. you kept me warm. but you ripped me from my home and i've been cold since.”

cardan does something she didn’t imagine him capable of. he didn’t do so when balekin beat him. he didn’t do so when his family was slaughtered. he did so this moment, with her encircled by his arms. cardan sobs.

maybe this is when he understands he’s been forever her herald. the marker of her death. their destinies, interlinked, but only for this.

as he bares himself open, jude candidly studies his face. there’s freedom in allowing herself to admit she missed him. missed all of it. her kingdom that never was.

“i’ll heal you,” he implores. his hand runs down wet and shakingly down her face. “you’re my queen. we’ll use our magic. we will, jude, if you stay with me. don’t you get it? the exile was fake. i never meant for you to vanish. i’m begging you, please, help me heal you.”

her forehead falls on his. waist-deep in water, she feels his short breaths fall on her cheek. “you held hatred for me once.”

slowly, miserably, cardan shakes his head. the motion makes her pull away but he doesn’t let her, staying together. “love. i held love, jude.”

love

four letters.

years of running. and it caught up to her all the same.

his words hit her worse than the sniper did. she staggers in his embrace.

“hold.” he says the word with intensity. “i hold, jude.” cardan refuses to let her go, won’t let her fall. “you walked away with my heart.”

thoughts swirl in her head. they swim around like the fish crossing in between their legs.

“hold,” she says weakly.

hold love. he loves me.

impossible. and true.

“huh.”

“hold me,” she asks him. and he does.

he does.

he appears vacillant to his actions save for holding her.

jude can’t remember a time when she wasn’t running. from her parents’ demise. from madoc’s threats. from the cruel fae. from her sister’s betrayal. from cardan’s torments and, apparently, his ministrations of love. from her own shadow.

they haven’t moved from the water. it’s been a minute. it’s been four years.

jude feels her body slag, the water making up for the new deadweight.

“i wish you’d never left me,” he murmurs.

gratingly, she lifts her hand to trace a finger along the hard, straight line and point of her husband’s ear. “cardan, are you here to ask me for a divorce?”

his face breaks. she’s fully leaning on him, his long arms cradling her to his chest. amidst their soaked clothes, she feels the thudding of his heart against her cheek.

jude’s eyes flutter open and closed. “i want to tell you i will. i want to tell you i’ve waited for it. i - ah…” a jab of pain causes her to pause. “i want to tell you it hasn’t been eating me alive to be apart from you. i want to tell you… so… many… lies.”

through her misty vision, she sees cardan shake his head. “you are not leaving me.” the conviction in his voice draws a laugh from her.

“oh, cardan.” it’s the last good breath in her lungs. in the distance, she feels the ripples of someone entering the river, racing towards them. she sees only pitch black eyes. “i already have. i already have.”

they are esoteric, rendered in numinous light. from their entwined bodies in the water, there grow white flowers at the riverbed, their petals straining for the sun.

#jurdanweek2020 #jurdan #jude duarte #tfotaedit #cardan greenbriar #he's kinda scattered in this fic tbh but i promise there is SOME sort of follow-through to the angst #if you survive getting there #this took me all night and now its 9am HELLO THANK YOU FOR THIS MADNESS HOLLY BLACK #note: this will be my last tfota fic fellas #nicky writes #mine #mine:tfota

102 notes · View notes

needtherapy · 3 years

Text

soaring, carried aloft on the wind...continued 21

An arranged-marriage story for Xichen and Mingjue, in another time and another place.

The Beifeng, the mighty empire of the north, invaded more than a year ago, moving inexorably south and east.

In order to buy peace, the chief of the Lan clan has given the Beifeng warlord a gift, his second oldest son in marriage. However, when Xichen finds out he makes a plan.

He, too, can give a gift to the Beifeng warlord, and he will not regret it.

Part 1: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 Part 2: 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 … HOME

It’s complete on AO3 here.

Notes: Check the tags if you’re concerned about the pairings ;) This chapter is rated E for Explicit

For translations of the entirely fictitious Beifeng language, you’ll have to scroll to notes. I’m only going to translate something that’s not clear in the text. Sadly, there’s just not any other good way to do it on Tumblr!

Chapter 21 Earlier

It didn’t take long for Xichen to find Huaisang leaning on a hitching post, watching a herd of horses gallop through the valley on the north side of the encampment. If Xichen hadn’t fully appreciated it when he had first arrived, by now, he understood how seriously the Ikarahu took their horses.

There were four herds, divided for safety and for grazing, and during this winter armistice, the hostlers moved them in a circle between the camp and across the plains to find new pastures in the mornings and afternoons. Between the fields, they ran the horses to preserve their strength, to discourage infighting, and, Xichen heartily believed, because it was so spectacularly beautiful to watch.

He stood silently with Huaisang for a while, the horses a patchwork of color in the distance.

“I never really wanted to come on this campaign,” Huaisang said as the herd thundered in a circle toward them.

If Xichen had not seen them do this before, he would have been terrified to be standing in their path. As they always did, though, the riders driving this river of horseflesh turned the group with shouts and flashing whips. The horses banked, slowing as they swept past Huaisang and Xichen so closely, Xichen could almost have reached out and grazed his hand along their silky flanks. It was only the appearance of danger, and the riders were always in control, guiding the horses whether they realized it or not. The herd slowed as they approached the corrals on the western edge of the camp. Xichen knew they would be walked now, and each would be groomed and brushed and cared for as diligently as though they were people.

“Why did you?” Xichen asked, pressing Huaisang about his mood more than he usually would.

Huaisang sidestepped, dodging what Xichen was truly asking. “I couldn’t say no. I will finish what we started but...I’m ready for something else.”

He sounded unusually discouraged, and Xichen patted his hand. He couldn’t think of calming words for Huaisang when his own thoughts were filled with clanging anxiety, spinning eddies of ice and snow. He was afraid he didn’t have the option of something else, or, if there was something else, Xichen was afraid he wouldn’t like it. Two months ago, he had thought he knew where his life was headed, but now...now he wasn’t entirely sure what Mingjue’s plan was for him. And after seeing such clear evidence that Guangyao’s interests were not merely political, Xichen was worried that some other arrangement might be determined for him. He wished he had someone to talk to. He wished he could talk to Wangji.

“If I wrote to my brother, would you find someone to deliver the letters?” he asked, swallowing the shame of asking a question he should have voiced months ago.

Huaisang tipped his head like his hawk, eyebrows snapping together. “Of course, Xichen. You...we would never keep you from your family.”

Xichen nodded, already planning the words to write. He had taken too long, and he couldn’t even remember what he was waiting for. No, he did know. He hadn’t wanted to face the consequences of leaving and then, later, the difficulty of explaining why he didn’t want to return. He would send letters tomorrow. He didn’t know if his brother would forgive him for leaving or forgive him for his silence, but it was time to find out. He couldn’t spend his life running only in a circle.

A smile flitted across Huaisang’s face, but it couldn’t quite disguise the sadness in his voice. “I miss my family too, Xichen. I miss my home. I know you lived on a mountain, but you have not seen datik like ours. They will take your breath away. Do you know what the sunrise looks like from the top of a mountain?”

For once, Xichen didn’t allow the change of subject to distract him. He pushed back, one act of bravery spurring another. “Why did you leave the tent?”

This time Huaisang’s quirked smile seemed authentic. “I could ask you the same.” He shrugged. “I thought Guangyao would be an opportunity, but I might have been wrong. He is unpredictable and chaotic.”

Unpredictable and chaotic were not words Xichen would have used. He had always thought of Guangyao as cautious and purposeful, if not always fully honest, and he wondered what Huaisang had seen that he hadn’t.

“Qingyang says he has reasons of his own for being here,” Xichen offered, and Huaisang snorted.

“Of course he does. But his actions don’t make any sense.” Huaisang paused and chewed thoughtfully on his lip. “Not as far as I can tell. If he is a spy…well, if I was a spy, I would do things differently. And if I was a prisoner, I would also do things differently.”

“Was your mission with the bridge a success?” Xichen asked, wondering if that was what Huaisang was referring to. He also found it strange that Guangyao would help the Ikarahu.

“Yes, it was,” Huaisang answered with a frown. “I am certain it was.”

He pulled his kitingi fan from his belt and snapped it open, spinning it in circles, flipping it between his hands, obviously pondering something. Xichen watched and waited, but with a sigh and a frown, Huaisang eventually put the fan away. His most glib smile settled on his lips, a smile meant to hide his true thoughts, and Xichen knew the conversation was over.

“Shall we make anakau suffer a little longer? We don’t get many sunny days, and I feel like a ride.”

Xichen’s lips twitched. He would not have worded it quite that way, and yet...

“What a remarkable idea, anati. I haven’t ridden in days,” he agreed and together, they trailed along behind the horses all the way back to camp. Xichen audaciously borrowed Mingjue’s black mare and followed Huaisang in a pounding gallop across the hard-packed plains.

By now, he was a skilled rider; not as confident as any of the Ikarahu, but enough that he could let muscle memory keep him on the horse’s back while the pace and the cold cleared his mind and settled his doubts. He thought about his future. He thought about what he needed and what he was willing to give up. And he thought about whether he was a coward who would walk away or a man who would fight for what he wanted.

By the time Xichen returned to his tent, he was tired and sated in a way he had not felt in some time, and he was able to shove aside the flood of anxiety that tried to whirl back when he saw Mingjue waiting for him. He was barefoot, braids loose around his shoulders, wearing only pants. Xichen was absolutely certain he intended to look as irresistible as possible. He did not miscalculate. Xichen wanted him immediately, wanted to claim every part of him.

Well, why should he not?

Throwing his belt and coat on the floor, he reached Mingjue in three long strides and pushed him back onto the bed, straddling his hips and kissing him with teeth and fangs. He gripped the flesh of Mingjue’s shoulder with one hand, fingers agile from playing the guqin. The other hand, strong from wielding a sword, wrapped around Mingjue’s thigh and Xichen ground down on him, hard enough that Mingjue hissed, cupping his hands around Xichen’s buttocks and arching under him.

Xichen’s heart sang as Mingjue matched his force and ardor without question. He only tried to roll Xichen over once, his voice already halfway to pleading, but Xichen didn’t relent. If he belonged to Mingjue, then Mingjue would also belong to him.

When Mingjue was desperate, bucking wildly underneath him, Xichen kicked off his pants without bothering to fully undress and crawled forward.

“Open your mouth, ahoraho,” he said, relishing how eagerly Mingjue obeyed.

Xichen caressed his face, the straight slope of his nose, the lines around his eyes, the creases in his cheeks that hid the dimples he loved so much as he fucked Mingjue’s willing mouth. Mingjue’s hands on Xichen’s hips urged Xichen to thrust harder, and Xichen did, wanting to mark every piece of Mingjue as his, his, his.

Before the gnawing ache of climax could overtake him, Xichen grabbed a handful of Mingjue’s braids and yanked, angling his head back and wresting a moan from Mingjue that vibrated around his cock and through his gut. Mingjue’s fingers dug into Xichen’s back as he sucked him further into his mouth, forcing his cock against the back of his throat, sending sparks shooting through Xichen’s entire body. With a satisfied groan, Mingjue swallowed, once, twice, the tension nearly keeling Xichen over. The third time Mingjue swallowed, the tightly bruising band around his heart released its grip, and Xichen saw stars dancing in his eyes as the world dissolved in white cloud of pleasure.

He was dimly aware of falling to the side, closing his eyes to bathe in the fading warmth that still pulsed through him. Mingjue curled tightly around Xichen whispering endearments, stroking his hair, nuzzling his neck. He used the other hand to unfasten Xichen’s robes and rubbed his stomach when he finally got them undone. Xichen almost laughed at how much of him Mingjue was trying to touch at once.

“Ah, Xichen, I am sorry. I know I should not tease,” Mingjue murmured, soft breath tickling Xichen’s ear. “But I love when you are fierce.”

“You meant for me to be jealous so I would…ravish you?” Xichen asked. He couldn’t decide if he was annoyed or not. Maybe a little annoyed.

Mingjue snuggled closer to Xichen, and despite his pique, Xichen turned toward the scent of earth and cedar.

“I did not mean it, but I did not dislike it. You shine like the sun when you are defending what is yours, my bright heart.” Mingjue’s hand reached the arch of Xichen’s hip bone and traced the line lower.

“Do you want him as a lover?” Xichen asked, trying to sound as though it didn’t matter, but it did matter. In that moment, it was the only thing that mattered.

Mingjue leaned up on one elbow to regard him, his perceptive expression reminding Xichen that for all his gentle ways, he was not a fool.

“No. If he had come to me before you, I might have...considered it,” he answered cautiously. “But he did not, and so it is no matter. There is only you now.”

Mingjue’s expression shifted, as if he wanted to say more. Xichen wondered if he would ask the same question.

“If you wish him, or wish us both, I will not argue, aitapaho,” he said finally, his fingers skimming circles on Xichen’s chest.

Xichen intended to deny it immediately, but something about Mingjue’s expression gave him pause. It was unusually guarded and neutral, and Xichen felt he owed him honest consideration.

It was true that Guangyao was attractive, intelligent, cultured—all the things Xichen would have looked for in a partner or second spouse when he was heir to the Cloud Recesses, difficulties with inheritance and politics aside. Perhaps if he was a better man, Xichen thought, he would be generous enough to share Mingjue with someone he liked well enough. But he was certain he didn’t have that kind of unselfishness in him.

Xichen knew the unpredictability of war, even if he preferred not to think of it. He knew the Ikarahu would return to the mountains someday. He knew eventually, things would change between him and Mingjue. Whatever time they had together, Xichen wanted to keep it for himself.

And then, of course, there was Huaisang. Xichen still wasn’t certain what the extent or truth of Huaisang’s interest was, but he did not wish to cause any impediment if it was real.

“I do not. He is not you, ahoraho,” Xichen said, taking Mingjue’s hand and kissing the knuckles, touching the tiny nicks and scars from years of carrying a sword and pulling a bow. “No one is you.”

Mingjue threw his leg over Xichen and rubbed against him, hard still or hard again, his fingers trembling in Xichen’s hair. “I want to see you ride me tonight, Huan. Every night. You, and no one else.” He should be past blushing at Mingjue’s shameless words, but Xichen knew his cheeks had reddened, and he was chagrined to realize that he was as insatiable as Mingjue. He retrieved the bottle of oil and climbed on top of Mingjue’s solid form, to let him be a bulwark against all of Xichen’s uncertainty. He wanted to trust this love, at least.

Leisurely, meticulously, he pulled his robes off, basking in the light of Mingjue’s heated gaze. With a slow smile of his own, he poured oil onto his hand, slicking his fingers.

“I will,” he agreed. “But first, I want to taste you, ahoraho.” He kissed Mingjue’s throat, raking teeth across his collarbone, licking the salt from his skin and trailing his lips in a path down his broad chest.

“And touch you.” Xichen slid back to straddle the hard muscle of Mingjue’s thighs, rubbing his thumb across Mingjue’s lips, pushing between them when they parted. Mingjue closed his eyes with a muted whimper, biting down, the hard tip of his tongue asking Xichen for more.

“And hear you,” Xichen said, before he agreed to more, closing his hand around the hot velvet of Mingjue’s cock with a rough, decisive stroke. He did, indeed, love the sounds Mingjue made, the faltering exhale of Xichen’s name, a rumbling moan, the quickening of his breath.

This is what I never knew I always wanted, Xichen thought, lips and hands stoking the smoldering fire in Mingjue’s eyes. To be yours and no one else’s, he thought, settling back and joining their bodies slowly, agonizingly, sublimely slowly. As you are mine, and no one else’s, he thought, smiling with love, exulting in the satisfaction of their union.

#soaring au #the untamed #cql #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #nie mingjue #lan xichen #nielan #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #sangyao #mdzs au #cql au #Kristina writes tiny stories #complete on ao3

4 notes · View notes

yvghv · 3 years

Text

They were well stocked with food and drink

But it snowed again the next day, and the day after, and the day after that. A boy named Jack, particularly, I have seen served in this way more than once. But I was in a hurry, and without further delay I described to her the whole scene at Natasha’s the evening before. This northward motion isn as obvious unless you watch the moon over the coming week. Her hair was aflame. Jon was remembering. Are ye able to drink of the cup which I shall drink of, and to be baptized with the baptism wherewith I shall be baptized?”. "When we see these kids, it just kind of touches your heart," said Shawn Helbig, president of FOP Lodge 13. “Please,” he murmured through his broken teeth, “I never meant …” The words caught in his throat. “Fuck you all, and fuck your red god too,” he said. They were well stocked with food and drink; they had fires to warm them when adidas eqt rose gold off duty, a place to dry their clothes, snug corners to lie down and sleep. King in his new mammoth balloon "Buffalo", evinced the deep curiosity and interest generally felt. He’s thrown it out and now he’s sad about it himself and sorry he threw it out. “The day I learned that Brandon papuci de casa din pasla was to marry Catelyn Tully, though … there was nothing sweet about that pain. When Gerris made to pour himself a cup of wine, Quentyn stopped him. Khrazz slashed at his arm and caught him, but the folie samsung j6 2018 pt tot telegonil arakh could only chip the hard enamel before it met the steel below.. Then me. Typically, vehicles used for towing that are not properly equipped experience an overheated engine, overheating of the transmission (and internal haibike e mtb 2020 damage), frame damage, suspension damage, excessive brake wear and compromised wiring (causing electrical shorts and malfunction of lights). Under normal circumstances no new students join the course once it has started.. This President inherited the economy, the wars and the terrorism. Where deliberate, wilful, and malicious murder is done, whether by male or female, the retribution of the law is a debt to God and man; but the jury should beware lest it fall upon the innocent.. The banjo, their national instrument, is known but in name, or in a few of the tunes which have survived. There no one else doing twin set cardigan outlet strictly plant based catering in the city that I know of.. Even if he is not what he once was he is still better than many other backs out there and you don't just dump someone like that on the street for nothing. With 21 wins, they are now three shy of breaking the program record for wins in a season. Announcer cried out that the Princess had been kidnapped before the musicians played the classic tune from Mario Bros., capping it all by forming the outline of a mushroom. At twelve o’clock at night the silent wings of the little schooner were spread, and with her weight of fear and mystery she glided out into the stream. How he found out that we knew each other is not your business. The crime is a rare one, and therefore the reporters have had few nike hip pack cases to record. The Manderlys had brought the Faith north with them when they were driven from the Reach. Some had urged that very thing within her hearing after the battle in the woods. Once the new draft is completed, the paperwork will be forwarded to the town of Atkinson and the clock starts ticking again.. By the time Fletcher broke into the clear and put Romo in his crosshairs, the ball was on its way.thought we could pressure him, Fletcher said. Doctorow 1989 novel, Bathgate, in which a 15 year old bokacsizma bakancs Bronx boy bears witness to the murder of a man thrown into the East River with his feet encased in cement. Zapatos en la misma continuacin de la generacin anterior sentido del diseo, adems de la parte superior algo superior y el cuerpo biciclete rusesti vechi de los agujeros de Nike fuera sin mucho cambio. Went on the 6th January, at Mrs. You got to stick to that. Ginwright echoes these sentiments. Every death diminishes us, and we are stretched so thin … Take the high ground and win the battle, my uncle used to say. His eyes were red, his lips cracked, his throat dry and parched, but the taste of blood and fat filled his mouth, even as his swollen belly cried for nourishment. She knew about the Field of Fire and the Dance of the Dragons. For the last four days she had hardly spoken to me.. He is all energy, enthusiasm, and commitment. It would never do to come before this queen without a retinue of his own, if half of what they said of her was true. Zach Fiume, who has run for 2,454 yards with 27 touchdowns in his career, leads the LFC Division III in rushing. Ah, politics. She unhesitatingly confessed that she had run away, and that a friend had paid her passage. The same goes for their smaller 7 inch models.. The design is fine tuned to match the timing of the system, to reduce noise and heat, and allow for the most efficient communication between the memory and the CPU.. Glendon Hewett was a seasoned man and a strong one, a sensible choice to command in Cotter Pyke’s absence. But what’s to be done if it’s just that delicate chord we must touch upon? There’s no avoiding it. What am I doing маратонки puma mercedes amg here? Father, why? Four men dead in as many heartbeats, and for what? “Fire and blood,” he whispered, “blood and fire.” The blood was pooling at his feet, soaking into the brick floor. The burden of your care, toils and responsibilities, is much lighter than that which God has imposed on your adidas mariposas master. Vincent For more information, call Karen at 251 666 8022 or Margaret Wilcox at 251 653 7769.. He shall see now whether I’m feather-headed. Some programs, they take a look at what worked well for that historic squad and try and recreate everything for future teams. This was the “officer’s wife,” unmistakably a sham. Knots and tangles, Jaime thought, wishing he could cut through all of it with one swift stroke of his sword. Collectibles. But it was only early next morning that I fully regained consciousness.. A striking case, which shows how inexorably the law contends with the kind designs of the master, is on record in the reports of legal decisions in the State of Mississippi. Their romance unfolds in a perfectly captured Manhattan, circa 1950, which means that their 'forbidden love' comes with cigarettes, martinis, spectacular clothes and proper gloves. Strictly speaking, it was purely the king’s choice whether or not to extend Kingsguard protection to others, even those of royal blood. JR was a graduate of the Fort Fairfield High School, Class of 1983, where he excelled in both golf and basketball. Let’s drink, brother Vanya.”. They leapt to their feet, shaking fists. “You are my only hope, Lord Snow. Outside the snow was falling still. This is the largest shoe giveaway ever for the event. Don’t mean that we can’t count his teeth. The plane had taken off from Melbourne's second biggest airport at Essendon for a golfing trip to King Island, 160 miles to the south, officials said.. In an interview with Manning in 2013, Wold claimed in 2008 or 2009 he was allowed an expense amount of $150 per month, or $1,800 per year for personal expenses and gas for his vehicle for personal use.

1 note · View note

myownpersonaldemons · 5 years

Text

Self-Tober Prompt 13

Prompt 13: Lovestruck

SF!Sans/Reader

I’m not....great at writing SF!Sans, I don’t think? But...I tried??? So??? I don’t have many headcanons or personality for him quite yet like I do his brother, but......hopefully I did him some justice here! It’s also written in Sans’ POV! (Which I think is the first self-tober story that I have written that’s not like in ‘reader’s’ POV?)

Sans was many things; a superb strategist, an incredibly intelligent individual, and a ferocious fighter. He’d describe himself as any one of those things with pride and smugness knowing that no one would dare question him anyways. He knew how to control people, whether by fear, paying them off, or befriending them. Each person required a certain finesse, and plenty of background information. Enemies were always thoroughly vetted, but so were friends. He knew everything about everyone. If he couldn’t find what he wanted? Well, he had others who could.

What Sans abhorred to describe himself as was a lovestruck numbskull.

Yet, that was what he was.

As much as he tried to hide it from everyone, even his own brother, he couldn’t help but mess up in stupid ways around you. Especially once he discovered that you weren’t intimidated by him while still respecting him. It was as if you could just see through his bravado and his blustering.

You were sweet and kind, and had befriended Papyrus through a stupid video game.

Ugh.

It wasn’t even one of the good ones that Sans would…never be caught dead playing because he did not play video games. Not at all. If you had time to play games you had time to be doing something else, something more important. Of course, Papyrus sometimes stayed the night with those women he’d pick up in bars, so Sans had the night to himself. So what if he occasionally played an RPG while drinking his nightly glass of red wine?

Not that he did that.

At all.

But, you did. So, maybe he’d be okay with playing a game or two with you. If you’d want to that was.

Stars, Sans hadn’t even admitted his feelings and he was head over heels for you, and you didn’t even seem to know that he was. Which, of course you didn’t, because Sans is very good at hiding his feelings.

Papyrus would agree with him….at least in front of other people. Once they were behind closed doors, Papyrus would snort and say something like, “You like her because you accidentally admitted that you buy box wine instead of expensive stuff and you didn’t even realize it.”

Which was a lie, Sans always bought the best wine the stores had to offer. Besides, you hadn’t even blinked an eye when Sans had said that to you either, so Sans hoped you just hadn’t noticed. Papyrus insisted that it was because you didn’t drink, so you didn’t give a fuck about wine. Sans knew that, that’s why he said boxed wine. It was totally a test.

You called Sans up, and he answered within three rings as was his usual. (Actually he answered the moment his phone began to vibrate and he saw your name and cute face flash on the screen.)

“Hey Sans!” you said cheerfully, “Do you got a minute?”

“I CAN SPARE A MOMENT FOR YOU,” Sans said, ignoring the look his brother gave him. Both of them in their pajama’s as they caught up on their anime. (One of the only anime’s that Undyne recommended to Papyrus that was actually good and not a ‘troll’ recommendation.)

“So, and you can totally say no to this, but, my work is having a company party at this big fancy place and I don’t want to go alone because I don’t have like any real friends here…so, can you be my plus one?” you asked, voice hopeful and embarrassed at the same time. When he didn’t answer immediately, you quickly spoke on, “you can say no! I just, you’re the fansiest guy I know! I mean, Papyrus is my second option but I don’t even think he has a suit so if you say no, please tell me Papyrus owns any formal wear?”

You asked…him out? You are asking him out, to a fancy event. Where he can show off his status and have you at his side?

“WHEN IS IT?” Sans asked, pushing past his surprise instantly. He paused the anime and Papyrus shot him an irritated look, to which he simply flipped off his brother.

“Sunday, September 27th at 7:00 PM,” you told him, sounding like you were reading it off of something rather than having it commited to your memory.

“HOW ‘FANCY’ ARE WE SPEAKING?” he asked mentally going through his closet to figure out which of his suits needed to be dry cleaned.

“Uh…fancy? I-Is there different kinds?” you asked, sounding out of your element.

“AH…YES. IS IT FORMAL WEAR, OR IS IT MORE OF A CASUAL SETTING?” he asked, in other words would he need his tuxedo or three piece suit?

There was some shuffling, “The invitation says ‘Creative Black Tie’?”

Sans nodded, “EXCELLENT, AND WHAT COLOUR IS YOUR OUTFIT?”

“Colour?” you asked, sounding even more out of your element. “I haven’t even thought about that? To be honest here, Sans, I don’t even really know what creative black tie means.”

Sans eagerly explained, and then when you hummed in understanding he added, “WHEN YOU DECIDE ON YOUR OUTFIT LET ME KNOW, SO I CAN COORDINATE WITH YOU.”

“Coordinate?” you asked, and then you giggled softly, “oh my gosh, I didn’t even think about that. That’s awesome…I’m going to match someone.”

“OF COURSE, I-“

“yo, sans, can we finish watching this anime or what?” Papyrus said loud enough just to be heard over the phone.

“Oh! You were busy!” you chirped out, “Sorry! Thanks again, I’ll let you go! But I will text you when I know what I’m wearing! Bye, Sans!”

“GOODBYE-“

“sannnnnnnnnnnnnns,” Papyrus interrupted, and Sans heard your delighted laughter before another goodbye and then the line went dead. Sans glared at his younger brother and threw the remote at him.

“WHY MUST YOU BOTHER ME?” Sans grumped, to which Papyrus winked at him.

“just tryna make you more normal to your crush,” Papyrus said, picking the remote up off the couch where it had bounced harmlessly and resuming the anime.

Sans’ date with you had been the only thing he could think of for the rest of the week, it nearly consumed every spare minute of the day…and then you had sent him a photo. It was captioned with ‘I think I found my party outfit :D What do you think, Mr. Fancy?’

It was…so….cute.

And sexy.

And you.

However, what caught Sans’ attention most was that it was the same colour as his magic…perhaps a shade or two off. That small detail had him throwing up his poker face that he had so excellently perfected as to not let anyone see how utterly that threw him.

You had put a stupid little emoji over your face, which disappointed him because he wanted to see how you liked the dress beyond simple words.

He replied back saying that it was beautiful and an excellent choice. You responded with a simple ‘aww thanks!’ that had Sans a bit disappointed. He expected more of a reaction to his words than just aww thanks. Another moment where Sans grumpily swore that you didn’t have any feelings for him, and felt a bit jealous of his brother. You always were blushing and giggling around Papyrus…

The fact that he had been your first choice for a formal work party was different, because Papyrus did in fact, not own a single formal piece of clothing. No matter how much Sans nagged him to procur something of the sort just in case he needed it. Papyrus insisted that he wouldn’t need it and that it would be a waste of money plus he didn’t get the idea of ‘dry’ cleaning.

Sans explaining the process to Papyrus had fallen on sleeping ears…

The day of the party actually came and Sans came to pick you up, leaving Papyrus dead asleep on the couch. Sans had chosen to wear his normal tuxedo, but matching the colour you had chosen.

You answered your apartment door, preening yourself while looking just a touch overwhelmed. “How do I look? Fancy enough?” you asked, ushering him inside your apartment as you went on a hunt for your shoes. Sans pointed them out by your fridge, and you gave a breathy thank you as you darted over. You hopped slightly as you pulled them on, and grinned over at him.

“You still haven’t said if I look good or not,” you pointed out, and he blushed slightly. Ah…yes.

“YOU LOOK…CAPTIVATINGLY GORGEOUS,” he said easily, and you staggered a bit before beaming at him.

“You think so?” you asked shyly, before smoothing your hands down your sides in an attempt to smooth out the wrinkles of your outfit, “You look handsome, as well.”

Sans straightened and puff up a bit, pleased by your compliment. A soft blush tinted his cheeks. That was the first time you’d ever called him ‘handsome’ before. While he hoped that it was the first of many times, he wasn’t going to get his hopes up too much. Even if you would be an excellent match for him, and vice versa…at least in his own mind.

“Hopefully, tonight goes well,” you sighed, pulling on an outer jacket to keep the chill out and double checking you had everything. “If it does, maybe I’ll ask you to be my date again…hopefully less formal though. All this is doing is stressing me out,” you admitted, before gesturing towards the door. “Let’s go be a cute couple that everyone will fawn over.”

More dates?

Sans offered his arm to you once you had locked your door, and you smiled warmly at him before accepting it.

“PERHAPS OUR NEXT DATE COULD BE JUST THE TWO OF US AT A NICE RESTURANT,” he supplied, and your face blushed and you smiled cutely at him.

“As long as the dress code isn’t ‘Black Tie’, that sounds lovely,” you squeezed his arm lightly. “I’m free on Friday.”

Sans sputtered, sputtered, in surprise. He hadn’t thought you were actually serious about that, and your face crinkled slightly as you attempted to hold back a grin. Oh stars, you probably thought he was a dumbass now. He straightened, and cleared his throat as he opened the passenger car door to you. Once you were in he allowed himself the walk around to the driver’s side to compose himself, and once inside he said, “I’LL HAVE TO CHECK MY SCHEDULE.”

“Papyrus says that you have nothing scheduled and ‘it’s about time’,” you said waving your phone at him, which made Sans blush.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT HE’S TALKING ABOUT!”

“I do!” you said happily, “I’ve been trying to get you to ask me out on a date for a couple months now, and Paps said that I just have to ask you out first, and once I do you’ll return the favour.”

Sans looked at you in surprise, “YOU KNEW?”

“Of course,” you smiled, “After you mentioned you drank boxed wine and then made a point to say a bunch of really fancy expensive wine types the next time we saw each other? I had to confirm it with Papyrus, and he was very tight-lipped…er, tight-teethed about it? Until I offered to buy him Muffet’s for a week. Your brother is really easy to pay off when it comes to useless stuff,” you added, and Sans’ brow bone raised even further.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU COME STRAIGHT TO ME?” he asked, starting the car, “IF YOU KNEW I HAD FEELINGS FOR YOU, WHY NOT JUST ASK ME DIRECTLY INSTEAD OF GOING TO MY BROTHER?”

“I don’t like going into things blind,” you pointed out, “Like this event? I spent that entire week looking up different outfits and reading a bunch of snobby blog posts until I had an idea of what was expected of me outfit wise.”

A human after his own SOUL.

“NEXT TIME I RECOMMEND PAYING HIM TWO WEEKS WORTH OF MUFFET’S AND HE MIGHT HAVE ACTUALLY PUT EFFORT INTO ASSISTING YOU,” Sans commented, his tone light and joking. You giggled.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind, now that we’re going to be going on dates,” you gave him a salacious wink before tapping the watch on your wrist. “Now, let’s go or we might have to be fashionable late.”

“BEING LATE IS NEVER FASHIONABLE, IT’S DISRESPECTFUL,” Sans pointed out before pulling out of the guest parking stall.

The night was everything he dreamed and more. It was clear from the first minute within the event that you weren’t considering him there as a friend, but as your actual date. Your hands were almost always touching him, whether having your arm wrapped around his, touching his elbow to get his attention, or leaning against him to whisper jokes during speeches. Then again, his own hands didn’t often leave you, but always polite and gentlemanly. On your lower back, resting on your shoulder lightly. Simple things that still made you blush softly and smile at him.

That look, the softest of blushes and the cutest of smiles made his SOUL throb.

Sans was many things; a superb strategist, an incredibly intelligent individual, and a ferocious fighter. But…he was also a lovestruck numbskull for you.

#sf!sans/reader #sans/reader #fanfiction #fanfic #myfanfics #my fanfics #undertale fanfiction #selftober #self insert #reader insert

13 notes · View notes

emeraldwaves · 5 years

Text

Title: Start of Something New Chapter 7 Pairing: Todomomo, side Kamijirou Rating: T Word Count: 3,207 Summary: Momo is thrilled to be spending her winter break on her family ski vacation. Even though she’s anxious about graduating in the spring, she’ll have time to relax, enjoy the slopes and hang out with her best friend. Shouto is not thrilled to be stuck with his father for the entirety of his winter break. It’s anything but a vacation. Even with his siblings there, everything reminds him of his past and he just wants to get back to finishing school and moving on. When the two continuously run into each other at the lodge, both of them realize their vacations aren’t going to be what either of them expected. Read on AO3 Thanks to @its-love-u-asshole for reading this!

Climbing the stairs to the top of the lodge building, Shouto was thrilled to be getting some time to himself. Just as Yaoyorozu had pointed out, there was a large rooftop deck, completely empty minus her. Currently she was leaning over the railing, her long dark hair fluttering in the cool night air. She hadn't been kidding when she casually mentioned it was cold. Cold was... an understatement.

Zipping up his jacket, Shouto let the door shut behind him. Immediately Yaoyorozu turned around and waved, smiling at him. He nuzzled his nose against the collar of his coat and walked towards the edge of the deck where she stood.

There was something about her Shouto couldn't quite place. He didn't know this girl at all, and yet he felt drawn to her. She was beautiful, probably one of the most beautiful girls he had ever encountered, but it wasn't her beauty which drew him in. She seemed genuine, kind and easily excited, but still poised, classy, and well put together. He found himself impressed by her.

It was why his feet kept walking towards her even now.

"Ah! Todoroki-san!" she said. "I'm glad you were able to find it. T-Though I suppose it wouldn't be too difficult to find a rooftop deck." She laughed at herself, though he could sense she seemed nervous. "A-Anyway, I'll stop talking now so you can have some peace and quiet. I understand how sometimes a vacation doesn't feel like one unless you... take some time to yourself."

A small smile pulled across his face. "I don't mind talking to you, Yaoyorozu-san. You're very refreshing."

"A-Am I?!" she squeaked, shock crossing her features.

"Trust me," he muttered, leaning against the railing. "You're far better than dealing with my father at dinner."

"I see..." she said softly. Her pale face was illuminated by the fairy lights which trailed around the deck. They twinkled against the snow, some of them covered with the freezing white dust. The slopes before them were mostly dark, minus two small trails still lit for those who chose to go night skiing. "I'm sorry, but... I do understand," she admitted. "My parents haven't been the best this year either." A sad look crossed her eyes, and Shouto wanted to ask her more, but felt it wasn't his place.

"You... come here every year, correct?" he asked, glancing towards her.

Immediately her face lit up. "Yes!" she said, clapping her hands together. "I know I mentioned it before, but this is my favorite place in the whole world." She smiled, glancing out at the mountain. "The air is fresh, the snow is beautiful, and I have so many wonderful memories here."

Shouto couldn't help but smile, the energy radiating off of her was contagious. "Mmm," he nodded. "You can tell you love it."

"I'm glad! I hope whatever is going on with your family doesn't ruin this place because it really is incredible," she said. "I'm trying not to let my parents get to me too much. Thankfully, Kyouka-chan is here. We met here actually, and we've been friends ever since. Both our families always come during winter break."

"That so?" he said, listening to her speak so excitedly about her favorite place.

"Mhm!" she nodded. "I love spending time with Kyouka-chan." She shut her eyes and pulled in a long breath of air. "But I also love being out on the mountain."

There was a time when he would've probably agreed. Though he had never been to this lodge specifically, being out on the slopes and skiing through the snow was important to him. He could actually connect with his mother when he was out in the snow, it felt like she was there, skiing right beside him.

But lately it was hard to feel nostalgic when his father was breathing down their necks, setting a schedule for their vacation. Did he expect them to have fun? He supposed that was probably what his father wanted, especially since he was wanting to 'play games'... though Shouto could only imagine what a disaster that would be.

"I used to love that, but this trip has been... nothing but a headache," he sighed, leaning forward against the railing.

"Ah? I-I'm sorry, Todoroki-san," Yaoyorozu said quickly. She bowed her head. "I can keep quiet so you can have a peaceful moment!"

"No," he chuckled, laughing at how quick she was to be nervous. "I already said I don't mind listening to you speak. Actually, hearing you talk so fondly of this place makes me... like it more."

"Really?!" she said, her dark eyes shimmering with excitement. She reached forward and grabbed his hands. "It really is amazing here. There's so much to do and the scenery is so calming and beautiful! And the food is also amazing. I-I mean you already ate at the best restaurant but-" She paused, as if she suddenly realized they were now holding hands. She jumped back a bit, running her gloved hands over the railing. "S-Sorry, Todoroki-san... I get so excited and since things have been a little stressful... I was happy to share fond memories!"

Cute.

Oh gosh, was she cute. He thought back to his father being so frustrated this girl could potentially be a distraction for him. Admittedly, Shouto had never thought too much about romance or girls... or any sort of relationships as he often kept to himself. He didn't have time to focus on other people, not with the intense study schedule his father often prepared for him.

But what if...

What if, just this once, he allowed himself the distraction?

He watched her for a moment, her gaze staring at her hands, as if she was so embarrassed she had accidentally held his hand for a short period of time.

"Please, Yaoyorozu-san, don't apologize. I like hearing you talk about... something you love."

'You look beautiful.' The words hung on the tip of his tongue. He barely knew her, and he couldn't just blurt these things out. She would probably look at him like he was some sort of creep.

"O-Oh..." she said, and giggled. "Well, what about you, Todoroki-san?" she asked, leaning against the railing. "What is something you love?"

He froze. Something he loved? What was... something he loved?

"Cold soba."

How lame. He mentally slapped his hand against his forehead. She was going to think he was some sort of idiot; he was certain she didn't mean what his favorite food was.

"Cold... soba?" she asked, tilting her head. She giggled softly, the sound echoing on the winter wind. It warmed him, even with the cool night air surrounding them.

"That... ah... uhm... " He turned away from her, not wanting her to see how his cheeks were currently as red as his left portion of hair.

"Soba is quite tasty so, I understand!"

She was just being nice.

"Sorry..." he mumbled. "That probably wasn't the answer you were expecting."

"Admittedly, no!" she laughed. "But it was... very endearing."

"...I suppose," he sighed. "It's... difficult for me to say what I really, truly love."

"I can assure you, Todoroki-san," Yaoyorozu smiled. "This is a very safe space." She placed her hand over her chest and stood up straight. "I swear, anything you tell me will not leave this rooftop deck."

His eye widened as he watched her.

Cute!

It made his chest clench a little. Was this what it meant to have a crush?

It was a foolish feeling, since he most likely wouldn't see her after this vacation was over... and yet...

He didn't hate the way his heart fluttered when he looked at her.

He nodded his head at her. "Thank you, Yaoyorozu-san. It's not that I don't trust you." In fact, there was something very appealing about speaking to her. She didn't know him, had no bias towards him or his past or how he acted in school. However, he didn't want to make a complete fool of himself.

"Oh, I'm glad I seem trustworthy!" she smiled.

"Mhm," he nodded. "I suppose... it's hard for me to say it because I'm not sure what I love."

Her brow furrowed, looking at him with such concern. There was a part of him that regretted speaking up, because he much preferred when he was able to make her smile.

"Can I ask what you mean?" she said softly, her dark eyes waiting patiently for him to speak.

"My father," he began slowly, "he wants me to take over his company. He's a businessman. My whole life he's been pushing me. It's always been my only purpose."

"Your whole life?" she asked, gently prodding for more information, though nothing about her tone or demeanor was pushy.

"Mmm..." he nodded. "My eldest brother was sickly as a child and deemed unworthy. He's studying abroad now to be a doctor. My sister, as a woman, was not worthy to him... Natsuo, the brother you met, he is far too easily distractible and my father couldn't put up with it," he explained. "Then there was me, and I am being molded into his perfect little heir." There was a bite to his tone and he turned towards the railing, staring at the snow pooled on top of it.

He swallowed, wondering if he had said too much. It wasn't like him to speak about his family so freely, but Yaoyorozu made him feel so comfortable.

"Todoroki-san," she whispered, reaching over to place her gloved hand over his. "I'm so sorry. Is business something you're interested in?" she asked. Her voice was so genuine, and even through his glove, he could feel the gentle pressure and squeeze from her hand.

"I don't know. I've never been given the freedom to think about it," he admitted. He wasn’t sure anyone had ever even asked him a question like that.

"I see," she whispered. "Are there any... hobbies you have that you enjoy? Something you pull joy from?" she asked.

"Mmm." Shouto hummed softly. "I enjoy this. Skiing, I mean. Or I used to."

"What changed?" she asked.

Shouto froze, his heart suddenly throbbing in his ears. He knew exactly what changed, but the words were trapped in his throat. He couldn't just say it, could he?

"It's your mother..."

"She..."

"I..." He let out a soft breath, a heated cloud curling in the air in front of him. "I don't know," he lied.

"I see," she whispered. Maybe she could tell he wasn't giving her the full story, but she was far too polite to ask for any further details.

"What about you," he asked, changing the subject. Dwelling on his mother was never good for his mental state, and so far the majority of this trip had brought back nostalgic memories which made his heart ache. He didn't want to think about it, not when he was spending time with her. He had talked about himself far too much already.

"Me?" she gasped. "I-I... admittedly after hearing your story I feel a little foolish," she said.

"What? Please Yaoyorozu-san, that wasn't my intention," he urged.

"I-I know!" she said. "It's silly. My parents keep pressuring me to decide what I want to do with my future. I've been accepted to the university I wanted and unlike you, my father doesn't mind if I take a different path with my life... however, I know he wants me in a stable position. You should've heard him tonight," she laughed sadly. "Kyouka is a musician and he was very concerned I planned on following her."

"Ah, parents," Shouto sighed.

"Right?" she said, sighing along with him. "I actually really enjoy chemistry, but I have no idea if my father would approve. I don't know where exactly I can go and be a chemist. Maybe I could teach..." she babbled, nervously stroking the end of her hair between her gloved fingers. "It's overwhelming, to think about and consider your future. I was hoping this trip would be a nice break from it all, but almost every dinner my father brings it up."

They had opposite problems. Shouto was being forced into a set future, one he couldn't change, and Yaoyorozu was spiraling along an uncertain path, one she couldn't decide upon.

"I've mentioned it to Kyouka, but her family is so relaxed and supportive of her music, she tends to not understand why I don't just choose what I want," she continued. "While that's nice to think about, I worry my father won't approve."

"I understand," he nodded.

"I'm sorry, I'm sure it's not pleasant to hear about my horribly wishy-washy decisions."

"Please, pressure, regardless of what form, is never pleasant," he muttered. He knew this quite well.

"Thank you, Todoroki-san," she said, bowing to him. "I appreciate you taking the time to listen to me."

"Well thank you for doing the same," he chuckled, nodding. He did feel a bit guilty for speaking to her so much, but at the same time... she had been so open with him too. In a strange way, he felt she understood him.

"Perhaps we could... speak up here again sometime in the next week and a half," she said, a smile pulling across her features.

He would've spoken to her up here every night if he could.

"I would like that. You're right, it is very peaceful and calm up here."

"Mhm," she said and placed her finger against her lips. "It's a secret! But I'm happy to share it with you."

He bowed his head to her and chuckled. "I feel quite honored to know about it then."

She nodded and reluctantly pulled her hand away from his, realizing she still had it resting over his. "I-I do wish you could come to the party tomorrow night, but I understand your father is quite intense!" she sighed.

He clenched his hands around the railing. He wanted more than anything to come to the party and spend more time with her. "I'll... make it," he said. "I'll figure out a way to get away from him and-"

"Ah! Please don't get in trouble, Todoroki-san!" she said, her eyes shimmering with nervousness.

"I won't," he chuckled.

The two of them stayed on the roof for a bit longer, letting the night slowly wear on. For now they were free from their burdens, their families slept soundly while they spoke into the night, and Shouto knew he had to get to that party, no matter what.

"Someone's glowing," Kyouka said, flopping onto Momo's bed. The two met up after skiing and showering the next day. The party was only a few hours away and the two girls had plans to get dinner and head over to the pool.

"Glowing?!" she gasped and slid the closet door open, searching through the clothes she hung up. "I-I don't know about that."

"Have you been texting with Todoroki?" she teased.

"Well..." she cleared her throat. "We actually spent some time together on the roof." She braced herself, ready for the reaction from her friend.

"What?! Yaoyorozu Momo, taking a boy up to her very special spot?!" Kyouka gasped, clutching her hand against her chest as she leaned forward on the bed.

"K-Kyouka! It wasn't a big deal. He was having a difficult time with his father and so I invited him up for some peace and quiet."

"Sure, sure," she nodded, folding her arms over her chest. "Peace and quiet, and then you proceeded to talk his ear off I assume."

Momo popped her head out of the closet, her cheeks bright red. "Oh gosh... I probably did talk too much!"

Kyouka scoffed. "I doubt you did, I was just making a joke."

"R-Right..." Momo sighed. "I don't know it was... pleasant. I think we sort of understood each other even though our problems are very different." She smiled, glancing towards her window as she pulled a sweater off of the hanger. "And he did say he was going to try and make it to the party tonight." She hummed, clutching the sweater to her chest as she rocked back and forth happily.

"Great. So are you ready to admit this crush you have on him?" Kyouka smirked, raising her eyebrow at her best friend.

"Huh?!" She froze. Admittedly, she had an amazing time on the roof last night. Besides Kyouka, she couldn't remember ever connecting with someone that fast. They spoke for so long and Todoroki admitted his love of soba noodles and his frustrations with his family. She too, had admitted her own frustrations, though hearing his did make her feel a little guilty.

She wanted to say she liked him. When she thought about him her heart fluttered and she couldn't stop smiling. But there was a gentle ache in her heart as well, reminding her that this vacation wouldn't be forever. As much as she and Kyouka had connected and kept in touch... a long distance relationship was extremely difficult, and Momo was about to head to university. She didn't need that sort of distraction.

"I already told you I would only admit it, if you admit your crush on Kaminari-san!" Momo continued, immediately changing the subject.

"What?! This has nothing to do with me and him!" Kyouka sputtered.

"When are you two going to ski together?" Momo teased.

"Uh, excuse you, he snowboards, which is why we won't be 'skiing' together," she said.

"Okay," Momo sighed dramatically. "When are you going to hit the slopes together?"

"Uh, never," Kyouka snorted.

"So you're ready to see him tonight then?" Momo asked, humming as she began to button up the red sweater around her white tank top.

"Whatever," Kyouka said, flopping back down onto the bed. "Who knows if we'll even talk."

"Didn't he say he would see you there?"

"Okay, Yaomomo, seeing something and actually talking to someone are two totally different things!" Kyouka said, staring up at the ceiling.

"Ah, right," Momo snorted, pulling her long dark hair up into a ponytail. "How could I ever possibly forget?"

"I don't know, but you have to trust me on this one," Kyouka explained.

"Right, you are the dating expert," Momo said, nodding at her friend.

"Between the two of us, I really am," Kyouka said. She pushed herself up and stretched. "We ready for dinner?"

"I don't understand why you're so hesitant to say you like Kaminari-san, you've never held back in the past," Momo asked, ignoring her question about dinner.

"I-I dunno!" Kyouka hummed. "He's... a nerd." She pursed her lips, and Momo could tell her friend knew it was a poor excuse.

"There's nothing wrong with nerds you know?" she huffed.

"You're fine, but... I dunno... he's just not my normal type."

"Maybe," Momo began, hooking her arm through Kyouka's, "that's a good thing!"

Kyouka sighed, grabbing her small bag. "Who knows..." She rolled her eyes and nudged Momo. "We'll have fun regardless."

"Of course!" Momo smiled. As much as she knew that was true, deep down there was a small part of her that hoped she would get a chance to see Todoroki there.

#todomomo #todoroki shouto #yaoyorozu momo #BNHA #boku no hero academia #kamijirou #jirou kyouka #ski lodge AU

45 notes · View notes

timouke · 6 years

Photo

I mean I tried xD and I miserably failed

Get to know me tag!

OOOH THIS TOOK FOREVER

I was tagged by the wonderful and amazing @racingllama! Thanks a lot! This was a lot of fun!

RULES : Post a pic of your simself with your traits and answer the questions!

I think my traits would be: clumsy, dog lover, and geek!

I now tag @sweezlee, @coliemoon4sims4 @chimaerae @nadi-nadi @artemisa02 @newerquality @electricsoftie @caramellet @petitesimss @redyuyu @sailing-simmer @markslatina @blurri-sim-kid @ilovesaramoonkids and anyone who wants to do it!

1. WHAT IS YOUR FULL NAME? Aidee

2. WHAT IS YOUR NICKNAME? Heidi, Pimpo, Bro, Loyis:)

3. BIRTHDAY? February 21!

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE BOOK SERIES? aNY. I love books. I love romance, action, comedy. Anything.

5. DO YOU BELIEVE IN ALIENS OR GHOSTS? None, but I do believe in alien ghosts.

6. WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE AUTHOR? I’m gonna get killed for this but... Veronica Roth?

7. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE RADIO STATION? 99.9 I love Delilah

8. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FLAVOR OF ANYTHING? Sweetsweetsweetsweet

9. WHAT WORD WOULD YOU USE OFTEN TO DESCRIBE SOMETHING GREAT OR WONDERFUL? AmazeBALLS :D.

10. WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT FAVORITE SONG? Ehrm... that’s a hard one. Paper Crowns by Alec Benjamin

11. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE WORD? Doggo

12. WHAT WAS THE LAST SONG YOU LISTENED TO? Paper Crowns by Alec Benjamin xD I’m I too predictable?

13. WHAT TV SHOW WOULD YOU RECOMMEND FOR EVERYBODY TO WATCH? Devilman Crybaby, don’t judge me!

14. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE MOVIE TO WATCH WHEN YOU’RE FEELING DOWN? Nothing with dogs in it, or I cry

15. DO YOU PLAY VIDEO GAMES? Yep! I play Zelda and hORROR RPG’s

16. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR? (incoming cliche answer) being forgotten.

17. WHAT IS YOUR BEST QUALITY, IN YOUR OPINION? I can sense when people don’t have good intentions, that’s why I have almost no friends.

18. WHAT IS YOUR WORST QUALITY, IN YOUR OPINION? Read above answer!

19. DO YOU LIKE CATS OR DOGS BETTER? Cats.

20. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SEASON? Winter because of Christmas and my Birthday!

21. ARE YOU IN A RELATIONSHIP? I am told to say no.

22. WHAT IS SOMETHING YOU MISS FROM YOUR CHILDHOOD? I could be days without showering without feeling guilty!

23. WHO IS YOUR BEST FRIEND? Loyis, but she’s in Germany right now. And I’m not, which is sad.

24. WHAT IS YOUR EYE COLOR? Brownish black? Blackish brown?

25. WHAT IS YOUR HAIR COLOR? I grabbed one hair and it was black, and I grabbed another one and it was brown, now my life is in shambles..

26. WHO IS SOMEONE YOU LOVE? LOYISSSS COME BACK TO MEEE

27. WHO IS SOMEONE YOU TRUST? EHEM. LOYIS COME BACK TO ME.

28. WHO IS SOMEONE YOU THINK ABOUT OFTEN? AHHHH *throws myself to the ground* (loyis)

29. ARE YOU CURRENTLY EXCITED ABOUT/FOR SOMETHING? Yep! Answering these questions!

30. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST OBSESSION? Sims, anime, my dogs. That’s my laifu.

31. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TV SHOW AS A CHILD? I loved the shows everyone now considers bad, like Johnny Test or Kick Buttowski, but Dragon Ball Z was my childhood.

32. WHO OF THE OPPOSITE GENDER CAN YOU TELL ANYTHING TO, IF ANYONE? I’m not allowed to answer this question or I’ll cry

33. ARE YOU SUPERSTITIOUS? Only if my grandma is present. She makes everyone superstitious, she is a witch, in the good sense.

34. DO YOU HAVE ANY UNUSUAL PHOBIAS? I’m afraid of flushing the toilet. Don’t ask! Yes, I do flush the toilet.

35. DO YOU PREFER TO BE IN FRONT OF THE CAMERA OR BEHIND IT? Yes.

36. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE HOBBY? Anything in front of a computer.

37. WHAT WAS THE LAST BOOK YOU READ? The Psychoanalist by I don’t remember who, but his style is a little too slow and descriptive!

38. WHAT WAS THE LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald. Now I’m in love with Newt. He’s mine now.

39. WHAT MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS DO YOU PLAY, IF ANY? None, but my brother is a musical prodigy so that’s something.

40. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ANIMAL? Not dogs.

41. WHAT ARE YOUR TOP 5 FAVORITE TUMBLR BLOGS THAT YOU FOLLOW? Everyone! Every single person in the sims community is super talented!

42. WHAT SUPERPOWER DO YOU WISH YOU HAD? I request mind reading.

43. WHEN AND WHERE DO YOU FEEL MOST AT PEACE? When I sleep, when I’m not thinking.

44. WHAT MAKES YOU SMILE? My doggos, specially all of them.

45. WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY, IF ANY? Ice skating but it hurts a ton

46. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE DRINK? Milk

47. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WROTE A HAND-WRITTEN LETTER OR NOTE TO SOMEBODY? What’s that, “hand-written” you speak of?

48. ARE YOU AFRAID OF HEIGHTS? No, I am heights.

49. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST PET PEEVE? Stupid people (me)

50. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN TO A CONCERT? Yep, it’s kinda like a tradition in my family to go to one every year!

51. ARE YOU VEGAN/VEGETARIAN? No.

52. WHEN YOU WERE LITTLE, WHAT DID YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GREW UP? A veterinarian, but I couldn’t!

53. WHAT FICTIONAL WORLD WOULD YOU LIKE TO LIVE IN? Whatever world Bleach is set in. I wanna marry Ichigo Kurosaki.

54. WHAT IS SOMETHING YOU WORRY ABOUT? Yep, everything everything everything

55. ARE YOU SCARED OF THE DARK? Nope, I am darkness

56. DO YOU LIKE TO SING? Sure, but I can’t, I sing like a sick cat.

57. HAVE YOU EVER SKIPPED SCHOOL? What’s that “school” you speak of?

58. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PLACE ON THE PLANET? My room

59. WHERE WOULD YOU LIKE TO LIVE? In Japan! Anywhere in Japan! Just in Japan!

60. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS? Yep! I have three fake huskies

61. ARE YOU MORE OF AN EARLY BIRD OR A NIGHT OWL? Both. I never sleep. What’s sleep?

62. DO YOU LIKE SUNRISES OR SUNSETS BETTER? Sunsets, I prefer nighttime!

63. DO YOU KNOW HOW TO DRIVE? Nope, I honestly should learn.

64. DO YOU PREFER EARBUDS OR HEADPHONES? Earbuds, they’re cute and tiny.

65. HAVE YOU EVER HAD BRACES? Yep, I’m in fact wearing them right now! How did you know?

66. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE GENRE OF MUSIC? Early 2000′s scene music.

67. WHO IS YOUR HERO? My dad

68. DO YOU READ COMIC BOOKS? Yep. All the time. I am a comic book

69. WHAT MAKES YOU THE MOST ANGRY? NOT FINISHING STUFF. I MUST FINISH THIS THING.

70. DO YOU PREFER TO READ ON AN ELECTRONIC DEVICE OR WITH A REAL BOOK? A real book! I like to hold them and the smell!

71. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL? Recess

72. DO YOU HAVE ANY SIBLINGS? I have between 1 and 3 brothers

73. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU BOUGHT? A snack! It was yummy

74. HOW TALL ARE YOU? 1.55 inches.

75. CAN YOU COOK? Nope, who needs food anyways?

76. WHAT ARE THREE THINGS THAT YOU LOVE? My dogs, my life and myself!

77. WHAT ARE THREE THINGS THAT YOU HATE? My dogs, my life and myself!:)

78. DO YOU HAVE MORE FEMALE FRIENDS OR MORE MALE FRIENDS? I don’t know, I haven’t counted them!

79. WHAT IS YOUR SEXUAL ORIENTATION? Who needs labels?

80. WHERE DO YOU CURRENTLY LIVE? Juarez, Chihuahua. You’ll never find it.

81. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TEXTED? The love of my life!

82. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? Right now. I’m crying right now.

83. WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE YOUTUBER? Joanna Cedia. I stan.

84. DO YOU LIKE TO TAKE SELFIES? I guess?

85. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE APP? Tumblr!

86. WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR PARENT(S) LIKE? I think it’s pretty good!

87. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FOREIGN ACCENT? German.

88. WHAT IS A PLACE THAT YOU’VE NEVER BEEN TO, BUT YOU WANT TO VISIT? Germany, i’d like to see my grandpa’s home country!

89. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE NUMBER? 42. It’s the answer to everything.

90. CAN YOU JUGGLE? Yep. No. Im juggling right now.

91. ARE YOU RELIGIOUS? I guess not.

92. DO YOU FIND OUTER SPACE OF THE DEEP OCEAN TO BE MORE INTERESTING? The ocean. It is a beautiful void.

93. DO YOU CONSIDER YOURSELF TO BE A DAREDEVIL? No, I’m too wholesome for that.

94. ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO ANYTHING? Nope!

95. CAN YOU CURL YOUR TONGUE? Yes!

96. CAN YOU WIGGLE YOUR EARS? No, but I know someone who can!

97. HOW OFTEN DO YOU ADMIT THAT YOU WERE WRONG ABOUT SOMETHING? I’m never wrong!

98. DO YOU PREFER THE FOREST OR THE BEACH? The forest!

99. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PIECE OF ADVICE THAT ANYONE HAS EVER GIVEN YOU? Never leave things unfinished!

100. ARE YOU A GOOD LIAR? Nope. I can’t do that.

101. WHAT IS YOUR HOGWARTS HOUSE? Hufflepuff. We rock.

102. DO YOU TALK TO YOURSELF? No! Stop exposing me!

103. ARE YOU AN INTROVERT OR AN EXTROVERT? I’m definitely an introvert!

104. DO YOU KEEP A JOURNAL/DIARY? I have tried! But I’ve never been able to complete one.

105. DO YOU BELIEVE IN SECOND CHANCES? Yep.

106. IF YOU FOUND A WALLET FULL OF MONEY ON THE GROUND, WHAT WOULD YOU DO? I don’t know. I know I wouldn’t keep it!

107. DO YOU BELIEVE THAT PEOPLE ARE CAPABLE OF CHANGE? Definitely.

108. ARE YOU TICKLISH? Yes. A lot. Don’t touch me.

109. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON A PLANE? Yep!

110. DO YOU HAVE ANY PIERCINGS? My ears!

111. WHAT FICTIONAL CHARACTER DO YOU WISH WAS REAL? Ichigo Kurosaki! Let me marry him!

112. DO YOU HAVE ANY TATTOOS? Nope! But I’m planning on getting some!

113. WHAT IS THE BEST DECISION THAT YOU’VE MADE IN YOUR LIFE SO FAR? I don’t know, my life isn’t over yet.

114. DO YOU BELIEVE IN KARMA? Yep!

115. DO YOU WEAR GLASSES OR CONTACTS? Glasses but you’ll never catch me wearing them!

116. DO YOU WANT CHILDREN? No.

117. WHO IS THE SMARTEST PERSON YOU KNOW? My dad, I think.

118. WHAT IS YOUR MOST EMBARRASSING MEMORY? I’ll not tell you!

119. HAVE YOU EVER PULLED AN ALL-NIGHTER? I never sleep. I always pull all-nighters.

120. WHAT COLOR ARE MOST OF YOU CLOTHES? Void.

121. DO YOU LIKE ADVENTURES? YEP! Let’s go on one right now!

122. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON TV? I guess, even accidentally. Maybe everyone has been on TV.

123. HOW OLD ARE YOU? 18

124. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE QUOTE? “What if it doesn’t work out? Ah, but what if it does?”

125. DO YOU PREFER SWEET OR SAVORY FOODS? What is savory? I onLY KNOW SWEET!

#get to know me #nonsims #thanks for tagging me <3

21 notes · View notes

yourkeeperoftherunners · 7 years

Text

Avec Nocturne Epilogue Pt. 1

Plot: We work at the same club and share a lot in common. Because we got off on the wrong foot, I’ve been trying to make it up to you. While walking you to the subway station, I see you hugging another guy. We’re just co-workers but it kind of bothers me. Why is that?

Rating: PG-13 (Language, Flirting, Implied voyeurism/sexual content, etc.)

Characters: DJ!Chanyeol x Kit OC, feat. OT12 and guest appearance by Exchange Student!Kim Namjoon/RM and Bi-curious Fan!Jimin

Notes: This is a spin-off (no pun intended!) series of Unwind written by @xiubaek13 and @oh-beyond. (Written with their blessing – thank you!) I own nothing except for my own OC and the content written here. (I recommend reading Unwind first to get a better understanding of the story’s universe.) I do not claim to be an expert in DJ-ing. Banner created by me. Absolutely no reposting anywhere else as your own! This is set months after the original spin-off series.

Ch. 7 | Epilogue Part 2 NSFW

“How’d it go with that VIP experience?” Chanyeol asked as Kit heaved her messenger bag onto her shoulder.

Kit scrunched her nose up and made an amused face as she pointed to the doorway. Chanyeol took the hint and both headed outside of the club, walking a few steps away before talking again.

“Honestly kind of awkward,” Kit admitted as she wrapped her fingers around her bag. “Granted, I was outside the door spinning for Luhan and his lady friend but I felt really weird having to listen to them. Girl’s a loud moaner and I almost thought they were going to break something in there. Not sure I’ll ever get used to that.”

Chanyeol smirked as he nudged her playfully. “Aw noona’s all shy.”

“Please, I don’t give a damn about people having sex but I don’t wanna be present in a way,” she defended. “Too many bad memories of inconsiderate roommates hooking up in our shared room without giving me a heads up. Very awkward for everyone.”

“It happened a lot?”

“College man,” she sighed rolling her eyes. “God I don’t miss that! Classes were fine, professors were decent, but the dorm experience – hell no.” She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “Listen you don’t have to keep walking me to the station.”

Chanyeol shrugged as he stuck his hands into his pockets. “Well it’s late and I’d feel better knowing you got on safely. Trust me, okay?”

“I appreciate it, but I’m good – my brother had me learn self defense and he insisted I sport steel-toed Docs. No one wants to mess with me if I mention them,” Kit replied with a smirk. She dug around for her subway pass and checked her watch as she approached the station. “Well it should be here any minute. Thanks again.”

Chanyeol nodded and allowed a smile to cross his lips. He watched as the train breezed into the station, stopping before Kit. The doors slid open and Kit stepped through them, glancing over her shoulder at him. She raised a hand while gripping a nearby rail for support, nodding at Chanyeol with a smile.

“Wait!” a male voice yelled.

Chanyeol blinked as a tall young man zipped past him at neck-breaking speed, barely making it through the doors before they closed.

The guy hunched over, clutching his side and Kit tore her gaze from her co-worker to focus on the young man who just entered. The young man straightened up, one hand shakily pushing his dark framed glasses up on his nose. The eyes behind them trailed up to hers and blinked.

“Kit? Kit Adler?” the guy murmured as he gripped the rail near hers.

“Nam?” she asked, staring back in disbelief.

The male smiled widely as he wrapped her in a tight hug, almost losing his balance as the subway lurched forward.

“Careful Captain Chaos,” she joked as she hugged him back, trying to keep both of them steady.

Chanyeol froze as he caught the brief exchange before the subway zoomed out of the station. What just happened? Who was that guy?

“You’re finally on my home turf! Oh man I can’t believe it’s you!” Namjoon blurted out as they exited the subway. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I had to get a new phone for this trip and it didn’t save my old contacts list on my SIM,” Kit admitted as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “How’s the work on your masters going?”

“Awesome. Well, it’s fucking stressful and I’m this close to tearing my hair out, but yeah I love it! The professors have been dope and I’m actually gonna graduate early!” Namjoon crowed, eyes shining. “You studying abroad or working?”

“Uh kinda working,” Kit replied as she jogged up the steps. “My brother’s friend is doing his service and needed a temporary tenant so he said I ought to do some family hunting too while I’m here. Didn’t find much though – just the nurse who delivered me and a basic description of what happened that day. Work-wise, I’m doing DJ-ing at a club.”

“Oh? Which club?” Namjoon asked as he hoisted his backpack higher on his shoulders.

Kit bit her lip as she sucked in a deep breath. “Er...it’s called EXO? I swear I’m just mixing tracks – nothing’s coming off!”

“Was gonna say,” Namjoon replied with an amused look. “But they actually hire women there? I thought that was kind of a ladies club.”

“Um...I’m the only girl on staff,” she replied with a wince. “They didn’t have a backup DJ so I got hired temporarily then permanently after a weekend shift. I switch off with their main one every other day. It’s...interesting. Um the group’s decent but the customers are crazy – they pay well so it’s something.”

Namjoon nodded as he pressed the crosswalk button, crossing his arms over his chest. He was silent for a few moments and turned to face Kit with a thoughtful look.

“Hey, is that the place where some guy named Kai dances?” he asked.

“You know him?”

“Uh not me, but I have a friend who won’t shut up about him,” Namjoon replied with a shake of his head. “He talked about going to watch Kai but none of our mutual friends wanna go to the club. But now that you’ve mentioned that you work there, maybe I’ll have to volunteer myself as his wingman so I can see you in action.”

“You don’t have to,” Kit said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Hey, I wanna support you,” he said, looking her in the eye. “What days do you work?”

Kit chewed on her bottom lip as she tried to recall her schedule off the top of her head. “Tomorrow and Friday I’m in the booth. Saturday I’m on standby for a private VIP spinning session. Sunday I’m probably handling another VIP or off – need to double check that.”

The crosswalk changed and Namjoon pointed to the opposite side as he walked across, Kit following behind a few steps.

“I’ll check with my friend but I’m thinking it’s gonna be Friday. My last final is tomorrow but not sure about his schedule,” Namjoon replied.

“Noona I missed you!” Sehun whined when Kit passed the bar. He put his dishcloth down and walked over to hug her.

“I was gone for two days,” she laughed as she hugged him back. “A day off and then awkwardly playing musical third wheel to Luhan. I’m sure Chan took fine care of the music here while I was away.”

“Chanyeol-ah did fine but Tao was Tao – he took two nice ladies away from the bar when I was chatting with them,” he complained. “One of them said she wanted to buy another drink from me if I gave her a kiss and then Tao came up and whispered in her ear. She left without buying another drink!”

“Sehunnie, there are other women out there,” Kit sighed as she patted his shoulder. “As for Tao, what else is new? He’ll probably avoid us knowing I’m here for two days then probably handling VIP again.” She checked her watch before excusing herself to set up for tonight’s session.

“Oh um hello gentlemen, how can I help you tonight?” Chen asked as the pair walked up to the desk.

The younger boy fished out his ID and allowed a cheeky grin to cross his lips. “I’m here to watch Kai dance – he is here tonight, right?”

“Oh um yes! Yes he is,” Chen replied as he cross-checked the young man’s ID. He glanced over at Namjoon who produced his, passing it over to Chen.

The taller boy shot Chen a sheepish grin as he pointed to the younger boy. “I’m his wingman tonight. Slash I’m here to support my friend Kit.”

Chen’s eyes lit up as he passed back the IDs to the respective parties. “Oh Kit-noona? Yes she’s one of our DJ’s here – how do you know her?”

“University,” Namjoon replied with a wistful smile. “Met at a party – here I am this clueless transfer student who almost downed one of the worst drinks ever that would probably put me in bed for days and she warned me before I took a sip. Turns out both of us were dragged there by friends, so we ditched and she introduced me to the addictive chain called In-N-Out. It’s a burger place where she’s from by the way.”

Chen nodded as he gestured to the main dance and stage area. “Through those doors. Kai will be performing tonight but not sure if he’ll be first or a little later in the evening. We do have a bar and Kit will be in the DJ booth spinning. Enjoy yourselves.”

“Should I just get water? Or I don’t know maybe I could stand to loosen up a little?” Jimin worried.

“Ji breathe man!” Namjoon said with a shake of his head. “He’s just a dancer – you don’t have to go home with the guy! Tell you what, I’ll buy the first round of drinks, okay? We earned it after this hell week we’ve been through.”

Jimin relaxed his shoulders and nodded as they headed for the bar, grabbing stools to sit on. Sehun looked over his shoulder from restocking the liquors and told them he’d be with them in a minute. Namjoon yanked his wallet out of his pocket before sitting on the neighboring stool, arms straight ahead on the table.

Once Sehun confirmed that he had a full bar, he turned around and addressed the young men seated at his counter. “Good evening, what can I get for you?”

Namjoon turned to Jimin and prompted him for his drink order. Jimin hummed as he craned his neck, trying to see what was available. While the younger male was deciding, Namjoon pointed to a bottle of Hite and Sehun cracked open the container, pouring the contents into a cold glass.

“Soju,” Jimin announced as the beer was passed over to Namjoon. “Three shots of it.”

Namjoon nodded in agreement and slipped a few won from his wallet to pay the tab. Sehun filled three shot glasses with soju and placed them before Jimin, accepting the won from Namjoon with a polite bow.

“Change?”

“Nah man keep it, thanks,” Namjoon replied as he raised his glass. “Cheers Ji – another hellish semester behind us! And also to you getting to ogle over your heartthrob dancer’s ass tonight.”

“Oh come on Nam, shut up!!” Jimin groaned as he quickly downed a shot. His face flushed and he looked around to see who overheard.

Sehun snickered at the exchange and tilted his head. “You guys are here for someone?”

Namjoon jabbed a thumb at Jimin and revealed that the younger boy was here for Kai. “This guy’s got a crush on him and won’t stop going on about his body rolls or how smooth his transitions –”

“I hate you!” Jimin growled as he wiped his mouth after finishing the second shot. His cheeks were slowly starting to flush pink and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You’re here for someone too?” Sehun prompted Namjoon as he wiped the counter.

“The master of the mixes over there!” Namjoon replied with a grin as he pointed his glass over at the DJ booth. “I’m proud of her – she used to play around with song combos all the time when no one was looking but she’d never share them! I tricked her into posting a few on SoundCloud and boom! Now she’s spinning for real!” He shook his head and smiled fondly before taking a long sip from his glass.

Jimin nearly stumbled off his seat when he saw the lights change on the stage and he blinked as a single light focused on Kai, who was standing in the center. He fumbled with the third shot and swallowed the contents before hastily ditching his stool at the bar to sit closer. Namjoon snickered as he watched his friend shyly move closer to the stage, eyes never leaving Kai.

“Well Kit-noona is in there,” Sehun mused as he pointed to the booth. “You can probably say hi after Kai’s dance. Can I get you or your friend anything else?”

Namjoon shook his head and thanked Sehun before drinking more beer, watching Jimin drool over the older male slipping off his blouse on stage. He rose from his stool and wandered over to the booth, lingering outside the door.

Kit spotted him from the corner of her eye and smiled warmly as she used a free hand to open the door, motioning for Namjoon to join her.

“Is that your friend?” she asked as she glanced over at the flushed faced Jimin.

“Yup, that loser has been eying Kai ever since someone showed him a video of the guy dancing,” Namjoon sighed as he shook his head. “Surprised how calm you are compared to the clients who are throwing their Won left and right.”

“You forget that looks aren’t everything in my book,” Kit reminded him with an amused look. “They’re a perk but I’d prefer chemistry first. Albeit I’ve had my fair share of my co-workers hitting on me.”

Namjoon tilted his head and gestured to Kai with his glass. Kit shook her head no and Namjoon jabbed a thumb at the bar. He received a slight side-to-side nod and he hummed with a knowing grin.

“There’s a few more dancers,” she replied. “Lay, he’ll be on in a bit and two of the private dancers Baekhyun and Suho. Unless your friend’s into them too, you’ll probably miss them tonight.”

“What about the guy at the front?”

“Who Chen? Nah, we’re just friends,” Kit replied. “Oh you thought he was into me because of the whole ‘noona’ deal, didn’t you?”

“He sure perked up when I mentioned your name,” Namjoon remarked. “You can’t blame me for asking – it’s not uncommon for co-workers to find potential mates through working together.”

“Very funny Namjoon,” Kit deadpanned with a pointed look. “Look, just because I spin in a strip club doesn’t mean one of my co-workers wants to bang me.”

“Chanyeol, you’re off today,” Chen informed the tall DJ when the latter approached the desk.

Chanyeol waved it away and murmured he wanted to check for the start of next week. “Luhan-hyung never made it clear who was playing for Tuesday’s gig versus the club so I wanted to...?”

Chen shrugged as he looked through the calendar, clicking on Chanyeol’s name in the scheduling program. “Ah you’re doing the VIP and Kit’s here per her normal schedule. Any other days you want me to double check?”

Chanyeol shook his head and murmured that he wanted to stop by to say hi quick. The schedule questions were just an excuse for him to stop in – he actually was hoping to ask Kit if she knew the young man who almost missed the subway last night.

It was late last night and I’d feel better knowing that she wasn’t harassed by a drunk, he told himself. He stepped through the doors and frowned when he saw another person standing beside Kit in the box.

“Ah hyung, I thought you were off today,” Sehun remarked when he spotted Chanyeol.

“Who’s that?” Chanyeol asked as he nodded over at the blonde next to Kit, who was pushing his glasses up.

“Oh he’s noona’s friend,” Sehun murmured. “Or well, I think they’re friends – he’s known her for a while. He’s responsible for getting her to do DJ-ing for real.”

Chanyeol tilted his head, brows knit as he watched the blonde point to a guy in the front, who was staring up at Kai with a dazed look. Kai had winked in the young man‘s direction and Kit seemed to be holding back a laugh when her blonde companion made a joke about it. The blonde had his hair styled in an uppercut and was pushing his glasses up on his nose.

Noona’s boyfriend? he thought as he watched them.

“Oh Ji looks like he’s died and gone to heaven!” Namjoon hooted as he doubled over laughing. His glass tipped forward and suddenly Hite beer had spilled over the front of Kit’s shirt and shorts.

“Shit! I’m so sorry Kit!” Namjoon blurted out when he realized what happened. He scanned the turn tables and machinery to make sure he hadn’t spilled anything on them and Kit followed suit before confirming that everything else in the booth was fine.

“I’ll get a towel, okay?” Namjoon said as he headed back toward the bar, trying to move quickly without spilling his beer again. While he was making his way over, Chanyeol made a beeline for the booth, pulling his jacket and flannel shirt off as he approached.

Kit removed her headphones and jumped slightly when she saw Chanyeol in the doorway. “Hey Slim Shady, thought you were off today.”

Chanyeol placed his flannel shirt in her hand and pointed with the other in the direction of the bathrooms. “Had to check my schedule for next week. Go change into that okay?”

“Chan it’s fine.”

Chanyeol shook his head and leaned closer, lips grazing her ear. “You shouldn’t be playing in wet clothes, not in this weather. Please go change?”

Kit sighed as she quickly checked her playlist, confirming that she had enough playing before slipping out of the booth with Chanyeol’s flannel in hand. Namjoon rushed to her side with the towel and bowed, offering several apologies. Sehun busied himself with drying Namjoon’s empty glass, watching as the scene unfolded before his eyes: Kit trying to reassure Namjoon that it was fine while dabbing excess beer with the towel, the latter saying sorry repeatedly with a flushed face, and Chanyeol watching the pair with a slightly bitter glint in his eyes.

“Nam it’s fine! It happens okay? Oh, I think your friend’s recovered – you might wanna go talk to him,” Kit said before excusing herself.

“Hyung, are you jealous?” Sehun asked Chanyeol.

Chanyeol blinked at the question and snorted. “Sehun it’s not a K-Drama – you’re being ridiculous! I just thought noona should change out of those clothes.”

Sehun nodded with an amused look as he placed the glass with the others. “Sure, you know best.” He bit back a smile as he replaced the soju with the other liquors. “Not sure why you’re still hanging around,” he murmured to himself with a shake of his head.

Namjoon and Jimin had headed up to the front after the incident, while Chanyeol lingered between the booth and the bar to ensure music was still playing.

After minute, Kit emerged sporting Chanyeol’s flannel as a shirt dress and her clothes folded in her hand. Because Chanyeol had longer arms, she was forced to roll up the sleeves a few times to uncover her hands. She tossed back the towel to Sehun and thanked him as she headed to the booth, Chanyeol following behind.

“Thanks Chan,” Kit said as she stuffed her clothes into her bag. “Looks like I’ll be doing laundry when I get home.”

Chanyeol nodded as he placed a hand on her shoulder, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face.

“You’re almost done, right?” he asked.

“Yes, in 15 minutes,” she sighed as she put her headphones around her neck.

“I’ll drive you home.”

“Chan, it’s fine – I’ll take the subway and you can walk me to the station like you’ve done before,” she replied.

He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t want you riding it this late at night, not while wearing just my shirt. Plus it’s getting colder out.” He watched as Kit tried to protest but he softened his stance and tilted his head. “Please noona?”

Kit sighed as she played with her headphones for a few moments. “Fine.”

“I’ll change quick when we get there so you can take your shirt home,” Kit promised as Chanyeol neared her apartment.

“It’s fine noona,” he said with a shrug.

“I might as well hand it back now – I might not see you until next week, you know ‘cause of scheduling,” she said. She pointed out the visitor lot and Chan picked a spot to park in.

Her keys were in hand as she took the stairs and Chanyeol kept his eyes averted so he wouldn’t catch a glimpse. Kit unlocked the door and pushed it open, holding the door for Chan. He thanked her before stepping through it and glanced around curiously.

“I didn’t decorate or do much – it’s mostly stuff my brother’s friend did to the place,” Kit explained as she hung the keys on the hook by the door. She began untying her boots and kicked them off at the front entrance, Chanyeol following suit by removing his sneakers.

Kit fished her beer-soaked clothes out of her bag and made a beeline for the washer and dryer stacked on top of each other, which was set into the wall. She turned things inside out and tossed in stain remover plus a laundry pod, before shutting the door and programing it for the wash cycle. Chanyeol stood behind her, watching as she did this.

“I’ll change quick – hey, you okay?” Kit froze when she felt the taller boy wrap his arms around her, pulling her close to his body.

“I don’t want this shirt back,” he murmured. “I...like it on you. You look...ah...um, cute in it.”

“Th-thanks?” she said her face feeling warm. “What’s with the compliments and the rides and...?”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“Huh? Who – Namjoon? Oh Chan he’s an old friend from college!,” Kit laughed with a shake of her head. “We’re like brother and sister – he is such a klutz and I usually have to be there to save his ass. Trust me, first time we met, he almost drank the spiked punch and would have been sick for a couple of days!”

Chanyeol lifted his head and leaned it on Kit’s shoulder, eyes wide. “What? You mean he’s –”

“What, did someone say we were dating?” Kit shook her head and laughed lightly.

Chanyeol reddened and mumbled that it looked like the other man had been interested. “I misread it – ah I’m sorry noona!”

“Chan, no need to be jealous,” Kit murmured as she patted his head. “No boyfriend right now. ...So does that mean you like me?”

Chanyeol swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut, the blush coloring his cheeks.

“Ah um,” he stammered, “ah...I found your SoundCloud page. But, but this was before the VIP event. Chen said I should listen and give you a chance.”

“Did Suho make you jealous too?”

“Noona I like Suho-hyung, he’s talented but very, very flirty,” Chanyeol admitted. “I can’t...explain it, but when he met you that day...”

Kit turned her head and allowed a faint smile to cross her lips. She twisted her body and hugged him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“Pinch me...it has to be a dream,” Chan mumbled as he shook his head.

She cupped his cheeks in her hands and tugged him down for a real kiss. His eyes flew open in surprise but soon closed as he twisted his body to hold her in his arms.

“Noona, after we put our differences aside, I thought we were just going to be friends,” Chanyeol admitted as he slowly broke off the kiss. “But it was...hard to see Suho flirt with you, your friend standing so close in the booth-”

“So I grew on you?” she teased. “I’ll be honest, first time we met before you started yelling in my face, I thought ‘Damn he’s tall and hey, that hair’s cool’. Never thought we’d be here now.” She smiled as she released his face and quickly checked her watch. “Did you already eat dinner? ‘Cause if not, I was gonna order takeout somewhere and eat while waiting for my stuff to finish.”

Chanyeol perked up at the mention of food and shook his head, murmuring that he only ate a light snack before coming over to the club. Kit beckoned for him to follow her to the kitchen and dug around in a drawer for some menus. She passed over a few and prompted him to pick one to order from.

“I’ll pay noona,” he said once he selected what he wanted.

“Aww Chan, it’s cool - I’m the one inviting you to stay so -”

Chanyeol shook his head and smiled widely, flashing his teeth. “Ah but noona, a guy should pay on the first date. Also it’s my way of saying I’m sorry for being so jealous earlier.”

“Tchik! Tchik!”

“You should take it,” Chanyeol replied as he met her eyes.

“No you got there first Chan, it’s yours,” Kit insisted as she withdrew her chopsticks.

Chanyeol studied the remaining piece of fried chicken and plucked off half of the meat with his chopsticks. He pushed the rest of the piece toward Kit with a smug grin. “We’ll split it.”

“Oh fine,” she sighed with a small smile, pulling it towards her. “I probably shouldn’t be eating it.”

“Hey, no talking about your figure – I like it,” Chanyeol warned. “Besides, I like that your body...” He put his chopsticks down and gestured his hands in swishing motions to mimic an hourglass shape.

Kit looked up from eating the final piece and smiled faintly. “So you were checking me out,” she teased.

“Uh um, well...I guess I was,” he sighed with a guilty grin. He took a sip from his can and wiped his mouth with a napkin, before checking his watch. “Wae, how is it so late?!”

Kit put her chopsticks down and wiped her mouth. “You shouldn’t be driving this late, especially after a beer,” she warned. “Look, this might seem a bit forward, but you um...I have an extra futon here and you are welcome to use it.”

“You’re sure?” Chanyeol asked.

“Positive,” Kit confirmed before excusing herself to move her clothes to the dryer.

“You can crash now Chan – I’ll be up for a few more minutes waiting for the dryer,” Kit said after she laid out the spare futon and blankets.

Chanyeol blinked and shook his head as he sat down on the futon. “No I’ll stay up – it’s no trouble. Besides, I don’t have to go in early tomorrow.” He pulled out his phone and scowled when he saw the battery was low. “Aish, do you um –”

“Here,” Kit said as she passed over her charger. She pointed to a nearby outlet and Chan thanked her as he plugged it in before connecting his phone to the other end. The screen flashed that he had missed messages on KakaoTalk from Sehun and Baekhyun.

viviismylife: You took noona home?

energizerbyun: What’s this about noona going home with you? energizerbyun: Sehun said something about an old friend showing up? Is that noona’s secret boyfriend we don’t know about?

Chanyeol rolled his eyes at the messages and snorted. Honestly these two needed to stop meddling and acting like this was a real life K-Drama.

“Sehunnie message you too?” Kit called out.

“Wha?” Chanyeol jumped, staring in the direction of the washer and dryer.

“Just got a message from him asking if I got home safely or if he needs to talk to you afterwards,” Kit continued. “Don’t worry, I’ll answer him.”

Chanyeol grumbled under his breath about Sehun as he typed back to Baekhyun.

dj_pcy: Her friend spilled beer on her so I gave her my shirt and took her home. It’s getting cold out and she shouldn’t ride the subway at night in just my shirt. dj_pcy: That guy’s not her boyfriend.

Shortly after Chanyeol sent his replies, Sehun sent over two more messages.

viviismylife: Ok, you’re off the hook. viviismylife: noona said you got her home safely. Sorry hyung.

“All right, dryer’s finally done – you can crash now,” Kit announced as she closed the door. She folded her clothes and carried them to the dresser, placing them in their respective piles before closing the drawer. She undid the top few buttons on Chanyeol’s shirt and unhooked her bra, slipping the straps off and placing the garment in a top drawer. She refastened the buttons and yawned as she made her way to the living room to bid Chanyeol good night.

“Sleep well Chan,” she said with a small wave before heading for her bedroom.

Chanyeol sat up and put his phone face down on the ground. “He-hey noona?”

Kit shuffled back to the living room and looked back at him. “Yes?”

“Ah...um, well this is hard to um, ask, but um,” Chanyeol stammered. “May I um, move the futon to your room? Maybe, hold your hand?”

“Afraid of the dark?” Kit teased.

Chanyeol raised a brow and shook his head. “Ah no, I want to be closer to noona, because I like her.”

“Yes,” she replied with a smile. She held a hand out for his pillow and he passed it over. He picked up the futon and blankets, following Kit to the bedroom and placing them to the right of her bed.

Kit placed his pillow at the top of the futon and scrambled onto her bed, one hand pulling back the covers. She burrowed underneath them and leaned over, hand lingering by the lamp as she waited for Chanyeol to get settled. Chan made himself comfortable and extended his hand out, waiting for her to take it.

Her smaller hand slipped into his and he smiled, admiring the size difference. He closed his fingers around it and pressed his lips to the top of her hand.

“You’re a little cheesy Chan,” she laughed before flicking the lights off.

“Call me a hopeless romantic.”

“It’s endearing and, I like that about you.”

29 notes · View notes

raendown · 7 years

Link

Look I’m sorry, okay? I lied, I’m not sorry.

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 2837 Story summary: Madara used to be a man feared even by those of his own clan. Life's really changed since the village was built. Among those changes is his relationship with one Senju Tobirama - and apparently everyone else knew about this even before he did.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Chapter 7

A bad feeling settled over him right away when Hashirama sent someone to fetch him from the park. He wasn’t even supposed to be watching the boy who was clinging to his leg, he’d just seen his clan Head walking by as he was playing and had attached himself to his favorite babysitter. It took a couple minutes to convince the kid to go back to his mother and when he did Madara hurried away with Kagami held tight. He dearly wished he knew what it was about himself that kids loved – so he could viciously smother that quality and expel it from his life. He just wanted a rest. Now free, Madara made his way to the Hokage’s Tower with utmost haste.

Ten minutes later he wished he had walked slower or perhaps not made it there at all. Kagami wriggled in his arms, blissfully unaware of the news which had just come crashing down upon Madara’s shoulders, news which affected him so closely.

“I’m so sorry Madara,” Hashirama murmured. The words were a poor consolation but it was all he had to offer. He knew how much his friend hated flowery, insincere platitudes.

“Were the scouts certain?” Madara asked, his eyes on the child in his arms. “Is there any possibility they misidentified the bodies?”

“The woman who found them was a close personal friend.”

“Ah.”

Luckily there was a chair just behind him because Madara failed to check for one before he allowed his body to sag backwards. He plopped down on to the cushion with little grace, his expression glassy and distant.

It was strange now, receiving news of a death. There had been a point in his life when he had come to expect it, when war raged around him each and every day, making death almost commonplace in a way it should never be. But now they were a village and life was supposed to be more peaceful. It was more peaceful. And that was probably why it struck him so hard to hear that not one but two members of his clan had lost their lives in battle not a day’s journey from home. There hadn’t been an Uchiha death for the past nine months and he’d allowed his heart to grow complacent. The walls he’d built against this grief were weakened.

“What will happen to the child?” Hashirama pushed himself away from the desk to come brush his fingers against Kagami’s cheeks. “Does he have any other family to go to?”

“No, neither of them had any siblings and neither of their parents survived the clan wars.”

“So what happens, then?”

“I don’t know.”

Madara offered Kagami his finger as he had seen Tobirama do, letting him suckle on the tip to keep him happy until he could go home and find him a bottle. It was nearly time for his next feeding. His diaper should probably be checked as well; it had been a while since his last change. Had he remembered to pick up more diapers like Izuna reminded him yesterday before leaving?

He could tell what his mind was doing, concentrating on anything else that it could to avoid the fallout of what was happening around him. In the past he had scorned others for being unable to handle bad news and always told them in cold tones to be stronger, a better shinobi, that death touched everyone and no one should allow themselves to fall apart over something like this. Those times seemed like a horrible memory of another person from another time. Madara could hardly imagine how he had made them feel. Had he so easily forgotten how it felt when his own brother’s died? This pain was nothing compared to that and yet still it left holes in his chest, a tightness in his lungs.

The world felt unsteady around him as he stood from his seat, Hashirama scurrying to give him the room to do so. His steps didn’t quite stumble as he made his way out of the office he had only arrived in a few minutes ago but he certainly wasn’t walking the straightest line he ever had before. Seeing that there was little he could do, Hashirama refrained from following.

Madara intended to go home, he really did. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to detour through the market place instead. Perhaps it was the way the noise of the crowds drowned out all the thoughts in his head. Or perhaps it was the way his eyes kept searching every face he passed, almost expecting a certain couple to appear from behind each new gaggle of shoppers and greet him with the same grateful smiles they always had.

Tobirama found him not half an hour later. He was standing between a fruit stand and a woman selling handwoven crafts, staring at the back of a stranger’s head and willing them to turn around. Their looks were so similar to the ones he kept hoping to find. When Tobirama stepped in front of him Madara didn’t have the energy to be startled; he simply blinked and drew his brows together in a helpless look. Warm hands settled under his own, cradling the child that he had only distantly noted was starting to squirm with hunger and relieving him of his burden.

“Come on, let’s get you both home.” Tobirama’s voice was gentler than he had ever heard it before.

“He doesn’t have a home anymore,” Madara murmured.

“We’ll find him one.”

Madara allowed the other man to guide him around with one hand, the other holding the baby to his chest. He let himself be led all the way home and in to the house. It felt as though he had just sat down on the couch before Tobirama had Kagami in the playpen and a mug of steaming tea on the coffee table for him. When Tobirama sat down next to him he didn’t try to stop himself from leaning a bit closer.

“Your brother told you,” he surmised, still trying to distract himself.

“He did. I thought you might wish for some company. Though, if I’ve overstepped my bounds I can go if you wish.”

“Stay.” Madara took a sip of tea and watched Kagami play with the mobile hanging from one side of his play area. “It’s nice not to be alone.”

“Would you prefer Izuna? I could find him.”

Tea almost slopped on to his fingers when he shook his head, making him realize that his hands were already shaking. “He accepted another mission. Won’t be back for a solid month this time.” His breath was shaking as well when he gave a small sigh. “I don’t…I…he’s got no one now. His parents are dead. Kagami’s parents are dead. What do I do? He’s all alone.”

He was grateful when the mug was taken from him before he could drop it on himself. Warmth engulfed his hands and he realized that Tobirama was holding them in his own. He should have protested, should have yelled indignantly about proper boundaries and behaviors. Instead he leaned just a little farther to the left; his side was warm too.

“Aniki has been working on setting up an official orphanage for the village.” Tobirama told him. “Does your clan have any system in place for when this happens?”

“Our families are so large this usually doesn’t happen. There’s almost always a relative, even if a distantly related one. His situation is so unusual for us.” Extremely unusual considering the Uchiha propensity for mating like bunny rabbits, a habit born from too many years at war. Clan members were expected to produce as many sons and daughters as possible to be sacrificed to the battlefields, a way of life they had lived with for so long they had stopped seeing the horror in it.

“Do you know of anyone who would be willing to take him in?”

Madara gulped, looking urgently between Tobirama and the tiny, helpless baby waving chubby arms around in the playpen. “I don’t want him to go,” he admitted quietly. Tobirama nodded slowly, giving his words the solemn consideration they required.

“You know what that would mean, right? That wouldn’t be eternal babysitting Madara that would be permanent fatherhood. You can’t just stop being a father when you get tired or bored or overwhelmed. You can ask for help, of course, but-”

“I know that. I know he would be here forever and I…do you think I would be good at it?”

“At being a father?”

“Yes.”

Tobirama gave him the slightest smile, a sad yet tender expression. “I think you would need a lot of help but yes. You would be a good father. Anyone can see how fond you are of the children under your care, even when you pretend that you aren’t.”

“Thank you,” Madara murmured, looking away to hide his suddenly glowing cheeks. Such praise from Tobirama was more than he expected. The more he thought about it the more it felt right and he knew this was the path he wanted to take. He wanted to give Kagami a home here. He wanted to raise him and love him and watch with pride as he grew up to be a wonderful shinobi – no, a wonderful person.

“Do you think you’ll be okay until Izuna gets home?” Tobirama’s words froze him.

“Oh. Oh fire nuts…”

“Putting aside your terrible swearing-”

“There is a baby right there!”

“Is there anyone else that could come help out if you need it until he gets back?”

Madara bit down on both of his lips, his eyebrows slowly climbing upwards as he turned to give the man beside him a pitifully hopeful look. It took a moment for Tobirama to look away from where he had begun to watch Kagami playing but as soon as he did his eyes blew wide.

“What.” His voice was flat, making it more of a statement than a question.

“You help all the time anyway,” Madara pointed out. “You like Kagami. And!” He retrieved one of his hands only to use it to poke the younger man in his distractingly solid chest. “You’re the one who said you were ‘warming up to me’. Why don’t you want to help now?”

“I don’t think you quite understand what you’re asking, so in the case of any complaints I reserve the right to remind you that this was your own idea.”

A confused look of his face, Madara tilted his head to one side. “Uh, okay.” That struck him as an odd stipulation to make but it seemed fair so he let it pass. What mattered was that Tobirama appeared to have agreed to helping him out with the latest adventure he had somehow wandered his way in to. He had agreed to teach Madara how to be a good father.

There were still a lot of things that needed to be done about the situation: the affairs of the deceased would need to be settled, any will they might have written would need to be enacted, their possessions would need sorting and redistributing. As clan Head it was Madara’s responsibility to at least delegate these tasks. He knew that Kagami’s possessions – clothes, toys, bottles – would all be moved to his own abode. He would need to make room for them all.

For some reason all he could think was that he would no longer have a spare bedroom. Now it would be Kagami’s bedroom. Should he paint it?

All of that could wait, though. Hashirama was still looking in to who had killed the two they had lost and their deaths had yet to be formally announced. Madara would need to shore up his defenses before he had to face the public again. He was the leader, the one whom others were supposed to look up to and take example from. He might have sympathy for how they felt now but that didn’t mean he was free to fall apart in front of them; he still had to be strong for his clan.

“They were good people,” he said out of nowhere. Tobirama squeezed the one hand he still held.

“I never met them but I trust your judgement. I’m sure they were both wonderful, exemplary members of the Uchiha clan.”

“They were,” Madara insisted, unsure why he felt so defensive on their behalf.

“And I’m sure they will be missed.”

“They will.”

“By you.”

“I don’t miss anyone. I hate people. You’re all stupid.”

“Madara.” He looked over reluctantly to see Tobirama giving him a serious look, one that seemed to burn through him with things he couldn’t even identify through the maelstrom inside. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Without giving much thought to why, Madara believed him. He closed his eyes, first looking away and then quickly turning back to bury his head in Tobirama’s shoulder. Both men held perfectly still as he let himself mourn at last. He didn’t cry – there were too many years of training ingrained in him for the tears to even physically come now – but he let his heart spill itself over behind his ribcage and reach out for the comfort that was being offered to him. His head pressed harder against his companion’s shoulder as he mentally curled in to a ball and wondered why so many good things only ever seemed to come about after such terrible tragedies.

Tobirama said nothing while he took his time, which Madara was grateful for. He could feel the younger man’s thumb stroking the back of his hand and concentrated on that, how it tapped in time with his calming heartbeat.

It was about twenty minutes before he raised his head again and other than that thumb Tobirama didn’t so much as twitch the entire time. When he sat up straight Madara took a deep breath to steady himself. He felt more centered now, less like the ground was tilting under his feet and more like he was capable of taking on the hurdles before him.

“Better?” Tobirama asked. Madara nodded.

“I was supposed to feed Kagami,” he said off-handedly. See? He was being a responsible father already.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it.”

With one final squeeze to his hand Tobirama let go and stood up to head for the kitchen. Madara felt abruptly bereft without his touch. He rubbed at his now cold arm to try and push the feeling away. There was no reason to feel lonely all of sudden. Tobirama was still here, he’d just popped out to the kitchen.

Indeed, the other man returned in under a minute with a bottle and a smile. He headed straight for the playpen to fetch the baby then returned to the couch. Madara refused to shift over to give him more room, which pressed their sides together again. Neither of them mentioned it. Silence reigned as Kagami sucked at his bottle enthusiastically, entirely unconcerned with anything that wasn’t filling his belly. Madara envied him his carefree ignorance.

After his meal and a good burping Kagami sat on Tobirama’s lap and played with the end of his obi, waving it about and doing his best to chew on the light yellow material despite not having any teeth yet. Tobirama pinched his cheek lightly.

“We’ll have to make sure he has some teething toys soon. He’s about due for them.”

“What’s a teething toy?”

“For him to chew on while his first teeth are coming in. It helps relieve the discomfort.”

Madara frowned thoughtfully and tilted his head. He vaguely remembered Izuna with a smooth wooden ring that he had chewed on constantly at around eight months old. To be honest he hadn’t thought much of it. Babies put stuff in their mouths all the time.

Although he would never admit it out loud, he was more grateful than he had words for that Tobirama had agreed to help him. With him as backup, Madara was sure that he and Kagami would be just fine. He almost couldn’t wait to learn more. Being attracted to men rather than women, he’d never even considered the possibility of having children of his own one day. It was why he’d never bothered to learn anything about them until one day he found himself an unwitting babysitter drowning in snotty noses and tiny humans who needed more to eat than some poorly slices apples.

Now here he was jumping in with both feet and it wasn’t as scary as one would have expected it to be. He didn’t know enough and Madara was well aware of that. But, glancing sideways at Tobirama as he smiled down at the baby and tickled his feet, he thought there was a pretty good chance that everything was going to turn out okay.

“We can go pick some up tomorrow.”

So long as he could continue to rely on the man next to him, Madara felt like he could do pretty much anything.

#the more we get together #rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #kagami #fanfiction #naruto shippuden

15 notes · View notes

cosmosogler · 7 years

Text

hi guys.

today i got up reallllllllly late just because i didn’t see a reason to get up earlier. i watched a whole lotta youtube! i made some great mac and cheese for brunch. i looked at clouds out the window and saw that basically all my neighbors have their windows covered. maybe they left town for the holiday. i goofed around with snoopy and dug through my clothes to look for some light jackets and my other jeans. i did find another pair! i could do with one more but i have plenty of other pants i can wear.

i’m just really into the blue jeans. you know how it is.

blue jeans with a red coat. that’s been My Look for a few years. yes.

i’m not SAYING barry bluejeans is the best, but you can clearly see the evidence.

anyway goofing aside i guess i spent the day being very chill and quiet. i don’t know if it was deliberately “self care” or anything like that but i did feel very lethargic. when oz got home from work we called and i found a nice upload of ferngully to watch. i liked it when i got to say “time for another musical number” every ten minutes. we didn’t realize until 40 minutes into the movie that the image was flipped. we ended up making a couple of nostalgia critic references and that was fun too.

after that we just caught up for a while. it was nice. i feel like i’m forgetting what it’s like to have known someone for years and years and i forget that some people have also known ME for years and years now. oz, some of my followers... classmates on facebook, even though i don’t talk to them regularly. it’s bizarre, almost. that i existed before coming here i guess.

i know!! like wow, right???

the way i worded it to oz was that i have lost a lot of people that were very important to me this last year. it might just be easier to have kind of hazy distant memories. at least right now. i don’t have time to get upset about it.

i mean, i am still upset about it, but i also recognize that i do not have time to be upset about it.

although mostly i just think my thinking is muddled right now because i’m sick and stuffy and my brain always finds that unacceptable. it’s like being sick pushes out any room or capability i might normally have for thinking about anything at all.

i’m still not really... feeling the absence of my grandma pearl in my life right now. it took a long time for it to settle in that my grandpa al had died previously. it just comes to me in little bits and pieces. “oh. i’m never going to get a letter from pearl again.” “ah yes, the picture of my grandma and grandpa. i love them. they are good. oh. they were good.”

considering that i lived with my dogs and saw them every day and it took me basically a year for it to register that jake and randi were dead and i could have spent more time with them and i didn’t... this isn’t too surprising i guess.

i mean i knew it before that. i saw randi’s body a few hours after the last time i had scratched her behind the ear. i let them take jake into the back of the vet’s office. it’s not that i didn’t know and it’s not that i wasn’t hurting. but to feel all of it at once it took a year.

it still hurts though haha.

anyway after i hung up with oz i swept the floor and cleaned the toilet one more time. i need to do something about that. maybe later. i’ll see about getting the right kind of cleaner for the pipes while mother is here.

then mom and my brother were here. i let them into my apartment and showed my brother around.

“i like the single danimals in your fridge,” my brother said.

“yes,” i replied. “he keeps me company. and the skeleton.” i pointed at the wooden skeleton over the keyboard. mom sighed because it’s like the only thing i have hung on the wall. the other thing i have hung up on the wall is a light-up plaque that reads “The Struggle Is Real” in cursive over my kitchen table.

at dinner i got my brother to laugh pretty hard just by giving him a Look when mom placed her peppers on an extra plate. it felt good to have that level of communication.

the joke is that one time at mexican food we both tried to eat those yellow peppers at the same time and both died on the spot.

mom did a few annoying things. she complained to me about how fat some of the people on the plane were. she also told a story about how unacceptable it was that a guy who was offered as many snacks as he wanted had taken a bunch of them during their extremely long flight across the country. my brother was also a little confused by that one.

i managed to patiently suffer through a short story about how dad is doing after his surgery. i even winced when she talked about how many places his jaw got broken in.

actually that was only partially on purpose. it does genuinely sound unpleasant to have the roof of your mouth cracked open and even the idea of the sensation is grossing me out.

i mostly wanted news on the dogs. genevieve is very upset that the whole family goes upstairs without her. my brother said she goes upstairs sometimes but i remember the few tumbles she took while i was still at home and they did not look like they felt very good at all. rug burn on an open wound is just not a good time. i don’t blame her for being reluctant to keep trying even now that her incision is all healed up. her fur’s probably grown back in by now too.

she likes to tease wiley. she’s allowed to carry around shoes and he isn’t (he chews and has chewed up all her favorite toys) so she’ll rub them in his face. apparently now she also likes to pick up one of wiley’s tennis balls, carry it around until he takes it from her, and then pick up another toy. when wiley realizes she is carrying a new toy he drops the old one to take that from her. so then she grabs the first toy and goes to hide while he’s distracted. you can get him to play fetch that way too, as long as you got two balls to throw.

diogi’s apparently doing ok. she’s still romping around the backyard even though her back half doesn’t work at all.

my and my brother’s conversations move extremely quickly. it’s like trying to keep track of a tennis match between particle accelerators. mom had no idea what we were talking about when we got about two sentences in.

mom dropped me off back at home and then i spent the evening watching more youtube videos. i also sent a message to a person whose meta i’ve been reading for like two years.......... i am very shy and this week i’ve been very muddled but she responded very positively so i might try again when i feel a little better.

i was going to say “i don’t know when i got so shy” but it feels like i’ve always been like this. when i get thrown into a new school with a completely new community i’m forced to meet people. it’s a necessity. but seeking people out myself is like... what??? why would i EVER do that???????

i can’t even FOLLOW people i really respect in case they see my username and check out my blog. the idea is stressing me out.

anyway it’s 10:52 now, which is about when i started writing my entry yesterday, so i guess i’m making good time. i gotta get up at 7 tomorrow morning because mother wants to leave at 8 am for sea world. i’m not really sure what the day is going to look like- i know that there’s not a whole lot of vegetarian options at theme parks as far as food goes. my stamina is a lot better since i started biking basically every day so hopefully walking for a bunch of hours will be fine. i’ll bring the sudafed to try to keep my air ways clear.

i’m not going to get enough sleep tonight but maybe i can catch a few zs during the car trip.

i saw a thing about treasure planet and now i’m listening to “i’m still here” again and i’m bummed haha.

something good today was that i, sort of, reconnected with people i guess? i talked to oz for a good long time. i sent a message to the new person. i had a good time with my brother. i sent a facebook message to an old classmate who’s messaged me a few times in the last year and i figured i should probably message him for once.

i do really want to go on a sailing space adventure again now though. and prove myself with nothing but determination to a roguish but ultimately goodhearted swashbuckler who might appreciate me the way none of my parents ever did. yes. good.

1 note · View note

abewoodhullturncoat · 7 years

Text

100 Asks Answered:

The meaning behind my url: abewoodhullturncoat... Abraham Woodhull was a turncoat so I mean, it did not take much to come up with that one.

A picture of me: will post one soon.

How many tattoos i have and what they are: One! A large treble clef in honor of my love for music.

Last time i cried and why: I do not cry often, as I was raised to believe a guy has no right to cry and it makes him weak, but I cried just last night... When I realized I’ve forgotten the sound of my uncles voice. He passed around 7 years ago.

Favorite band: I have an eclectic taste in music, so I couldn’t tell you for certain.

Biggest turn offs: Pretentiousness, number one by far. Also people who drop hints instead of asking for something, game-playing instead of being direct, and braggarts. -I don’t want to remove this because I share much the same sentiment. But I do wish to add that another turn off is the automatic judgment that a person put on someone before truly getting to know someone.

Top 5 (insert subject): Top five Ice Cream Flavors: Superman, Mint Chocolate Chip, Cookie Dough, Vanilla, and Birthday Cake.

Tattoos i want: Something really cool that would be really... Me. Historical, I’d reckon. As my love for history is a big part of me.

Biggest turn ons: A mind of their own and a voice to speak it. Quick wit and a voice to impart it. A taste for romance. Easy conversation. A taste for fine literature doesn’t hurt.

Age: Over 21. (My birthday is October 3rd if you actually read this.)

Ideas of a perfect date: Sitting in front of a fire, on the couch. Whoever the date may be with beside me, reading books together or maybe watching a film? I’d cook her dinner. Dessert. And maybe if she permitted, I’d take her to her home and give her a romantic kiss on the doorstep.

Life goal: Travel to all of the American Historical sights

Piercings i want: None

Relationship status: Single

Favorite movie: The Labyrinth or FBAWTFT

A fact about my life: I’m a huge history geek.

Phobia: Of being disliked.

.Height: 5'11"

Are you a virgin? Um... Yes. Much to awkward to get a date. Let alone a proper good shag.

What is your shoe size? 11

What’s your sexual orientation? Straight.

Do you smoke, drink, or take any drugs? I have drank in the past, but I refrain lately because it would mess with my anti-depressants

Someone you miss: My Uncle.

What’s one thing you regret? My not working harder to accomplish necessary things.

First celebrity you think of when someone says attractive: Heather Lind, my goddess.

Favorite ice cream? Mint Chocolate

One insecurity: Myself as a whole.

What my last text message says: I actually haven’t texted anyone since I got the phone really, but it was a text to my mum. Asking how she was. She spends a lot of time in the hospital due to her diabetes.

Have you ever kissed a member of the same sex? No.

Have you ever slept naked? Yes

Have you ever stole money from a friend? No

Have you ever gotten in a car with people you just met? Yes

Have you ever been in a fist fight? Yes. Protecting my youngest brother from a group of people who loured him out of the house. I had an uneasy feeling when a friend of mine had refused to allow me to follow. Turns out that I made the right decision. They intended to beat the hell out of my brother, who has epilepsy and he’s too afraid to fight back. And the reason was because he was gay. They had no right to go after him, so I stepped in.

Have you ever had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back? Yeah

Have you ever been arrested? No

Have you ever made out with a stranger? Yes

Have you ever laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by? Yes

Have you ever been lonely? Yes

Have you ever been to a club? Once, and I was so very awkward. I went out on the dance floor and sort of just stood there while my friends just sat there... Grinding against me. I guess that’s part of being the only guy friend willing to hang out with the ladies.

Have you ever felt an earthquake? Nope. But I was in a hurricane and a tornado before.

Have you ever touched a snake? Aye.

Have you ever ran a red light? Yes

Have you ever been in a car accident? No

Have you ever cried yourself to sleep? The night my uncle died.

Have you ever sang karaoke? Oh yes.

Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn’t? Mhmm. I call it, “Living.”

Have you ever laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? It was at a fancy dinner. Root-beer out the nose.

Have you ever slept with someone at least 5 years older or younger? No

Have you ever dreamed that you married someone? No

Have you ever got your tongue stuck to a flag pole? Ah, yes. Actually. To be young and stupid and willing to do anything for money.

Have you ever ever gone to school partially naked? Ah... No.

Have you ever brushed your teeth? Dude... Yes.

Have you ever been too scared to watch scary movies alone? Nope.

Have you ever been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? Yes

Have you ever been told you’re hot by a complete stranger? Nope

Have you ever broken a bone? In my right leg, yeah.

Have you ever been easily amused? Due to my own immaturity.

Have you ever laughed so hard you cried? Many times

Have you ever mooned/flashed someone? No

Have you ever forgotten someone’s name? Yes

Give us one thing about you that no one knows: I am so overly romantic that it is slightly ridiculous.

What was your last dream? I haven’t the faintest idea. I’ve forgotten.

Would you be up for interplanetary travel if it was a thing? Heck yeah.

If you could travel back in time, where would you go? I would go back and fight with Washington and his men. Win the war. Make history.

Do you dread doctor visits or do they not bother you? I don’t dread them at all.

Favorite fashion decade of the twentieth century? Fashion is not my strong suit. I’d just as soon bring back the breeches and waistcoats, and the courtships of the 1700′s

Are you wearing nail polish and if so, what color? Now I’m confident in my sexuality but myself in nail polish is not going to happen.

Are you into working out or no? Yep.

Do you have a temper? No

Do you have one item you treat yourself with, if so, what is it? Rolllllleeeeplay.

Do you eat meat? Yes

If yes, how do you like it cooked? enough

Ever had a boss or a teacher you absolutely hated? No.

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate? Hot Chocolate.

Do you wear makeup? Nope.

If you wear perfume, what’s your scent type/favorite fragrance? I’m a basic guy. Old Spice usually. But I do like Drakkar.

Do you have a girl crush? Yes

Candles, wax melts, or incense? Incense.

Favorite season of the year? Winter.

Fanfic—do you prefer smut or fluff? Smut

Do you like taking selfies? Why or why not? I mean, I take selfies. But I do not have myself convinced that I am God’s gift to women.

Do you want children? Not sure yet.

Do you prefer lots of friends or just a few good friends? Just a few, not interested in crowds of pseudo-friends

Introvert or extrovert, or mixture of both? Mixture

Ocean/beach or mountains? Ocean, if it’s cold, cloudy, and the water is wild and gray. Otherwise mountains.

Morning person or night person? Both.

Do you initiate conversations with strangers? Yes

Milk or dark chocolate? Milk chocolate is my secret weakness.

What do you post on your blog? Role play mostly.

Is it hard for you to apologize when you’re in the wrong? I have no issue apologizing whether I am wrong or right.

Love at first sight? Sometimes.

Best/funniest Halloween memory? I was Jareth the Goblin King one year. Being recognized was great. But then the next year I was Westley from the Princess Bride and I scored myself a date at the very same halloween party.

Did your first crush work out or was it unrequited? Unrequited of course.

Do you like old movies—and by old, I mean OLD old? Yes

Do you tan or burn? Both.

Do you think people deserve second chances? Generally yes. Hard to say no considering how many times I’ve fucked up. But child molesters, that kind of thing–hell no. - Agreed sentiment, honestly.

What animal would be cutest if scaled down to the size of a cat? Me, probably.

Do you have any weird food likes/dislikes? I hate fish and seafood in general. But I was introduced to ranch on hot dogs and I sorta dig it.

.What’s the funniest real person’s name you’ve ever heard? John Jacob Jefferson Schmidt.

I was tagged by @greenofallshades

@annastrxng @nellyforrevolution @bennjamintallmadge

and anyone else who wants to do it can. You can switch out questions if you wish, as long as there ends up being one hundred. Or about that.

#ooc post #ooc #ooc tag.#me #get to know the mun

3 notes · View notes