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samwritesforyou · 3 years

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lantern rite with zhongli

zhongli x reader

summary: you stay in liyue and zhongli wants you to go to the lantern rite with him

warnings: gender-neutral reader

wordcount: 2.2k

A/N: its just zhongli brain rot, can we jsut live our mundane life w him forever??

you were wandering the lands of liyue for a significant amount of time already.

you would’ve usually just camped in the open like you used to do on your adventures in mondstadt - before the knights learned about this and generously offered you an apartment with no rent required - but ever since you mentioned this idea to a powerful god of geo zhongli, he wouldn’t hear of it.

“you are staying over at the wangsheng funeral parlour, y/n,” he said in a serious, low tone that made your stomach twist in ways that you didn’t yet understand.

“what do you mean? i can’t just stay there,” you said in return, brows furrowed.

“there are a few rooms behind the official wing that we use for business and actually me and hu tao live there, we do not have a conventional “home” anywhere,” he rationally explained and continued looking steadily into your eyes.

you never had a problem managing eye contact, but with his piercing amber orbs it was quite difficult.

“zhongli, i-“ you started, looking behind him at the open entrance to the balcony.

it was getting dark already, and even though you were used to camp life, you did notice that wild liyue was rather dangerous to rest at.

“only if you really don’t mind,” you stated with a sigh of defeat, closing your eyes and putting hands on your hips, “but i’ll pay.”

“dear y/n, i simply won’t allow it,” he said and you felt his gloved fingers on your chin and opened your eyes immediately, meeting with his.

a mysterious smile played on his lips, “you can just invite me to a meal, this form of payment will be sufficient,” when he saw a blush creeping up your face, he let go of you, standing straight again and clearing his throat, becoming flustered himself and looking away.

“alright,” was all that you could muster to answer in a higher tone than usual.

and there began an era of you living with hu tao and zhongli for the course of weeks that stretched into months as you tried to scout out the eternity of liuye’s landscape, hopelessly looking for your lost sibling.

most days you’d come back to your new home exhausted and just plop on the couch in front of the kitchen isle, already seeing some food left on the counter for your arrival.

you were never sure if it was hu tao’s making or zhongli’s, but that question was answered tonight, as you saw geo archon finishing up tonight’s dish - slow-cooked bamboo shoot soup - not even paying attention to your shuffling in the room.

you felt grateful yet a bit guilty that you made zhongli do something for you every day this late.. sometimes you wouldn’t return until the morning and even then you found a warm plate of breakfast on the counter.

you didn’t have much free time to get to know zhongli better, but even so you two have become an acquaintances of sorts. someone could even say.. friends.

a few times during your stay you were persuaded to take a break and took a few evening walks alongside rex lapis, your conversation making you feel at ease and understood.

if only you’d have more time to just.. do nothing, then you’d even..

you were staring at his broad back for quite a while already as he was cooking, no official costume present, just a simple comfortable shirt that gave you more of a feeling how home-y you have become with him.

it felt natural to come home and see him, either reading a book or just sliding the door to his room open to say a gentle “goodnight” or ask a few questions about your day.

you really liked him. you clicked as personalities, he was interesting, handsome-

“are you here?” you suddenly felt a gentle single tap on the top of your head, as zhongli’s voice brought you back to reality from your thoughts.

from the thoughts that you shouldn’t be having, because there’s no way that something would ever happen between the two of you.

so you shook your head and then smiled at him wearily.

“yeah. sorry, a long day,” you said silently and looked at two plates that were now sitting at the table.

“i wanted to dine with you tonight, is that alright?” he asked and looked up at you with his amber eyes.

“of course!” you nodded and then looked down at the table, “and thank you.. for always making food for me.”

“oh, it’s nothing. hu tao said that since you’re our guest i don’t have to worry about using more ingredients for food than we do usually,” he then began to eat.

as you dug in into your dish as well a comfortable silence has settled in the room.

it was always like this with him.

comfortable, safe.

you wondered how he’s gonna react when you tell him you’ll probably have to leave soon.

maybe it’s a good time to bring it up, even though it’ll ruin the moment of peace.

you mulled over the idea for a few minutes and couldn’t find any way of saying it the way you wanted it to sound, so you just started;

“uhm.. i think i’ll go back to mondstadt.”

ever so composed zhongli literally choked on his food and coughed a few times, steadying his posture once more, brows furrowing, not meeting your eyes.

“why so sudden?” he just asked simply.

“well… i don’t think i have any luck here.. and i’d love to move to the next region, but i wanted to talk it over with other knights beforehand, just to be safe,” you answered and sighed.

it’s not like you wanted to leave.

“that is a good choice indeed,” he stated, but you sensed that he wasn’t pleased by your “choice” at all, “but why won’t you stay just a few days longer?”

he finally finished up his food, gently patted his lips with a cloth and put it aside, now meeting your gaze.

“there is a lantern rite festival in the end of the week and..” seems like zhongli was trying to pick the right words, which was unusual of him, “i was hoping you’d accompany me.”

“oh,” you have heard about the event scarcely, but didn’t pay it any mind, knowing that you’d probably have no time to enjoy it anyways.

“your sibling is out there somewhere, i believe in it,” zhongli didn’t even let you speak, which was twice as unusual of him, as if he was already trying to persuade you even before hearing your verdict upon the matter, “and i wanted to offer you my help. i finally have no rites of parting to arrange and am quite free of any work that was holding me back before,” and as an afterthought he continued, “and i think you really deserve some rest, y/n. i’ve seen how hard you’ve been trying to find your sibling, help the adventurers guild.. it’s only natural and fair for you to take some rest and replenish your energy.”

you were frozen in place with a spoon half-risen to your mouth already, unable to tear your eyes from him as he finished his monologue.

you were used to him talking about the past events or fond memories for a long time, but it was never addressed directly at you.

so you just looked down and started intensely finishing up your soup, trying not to think about the way you’re probably blushing right now.

and once you did and looked back at zhongli, he was sitting composed in front of you, light smile resting on his lips.

“i’ll stay then,” you nodded and smiled at him back, his expression growing softer at your words.

“thank you,” he mirrored your nod and then took the dishes - even after your protests - and started cleaning them up himself.

you were so glad you decided to stay. last few days were filled with you just walking around the city and outskirts alongside zhongli as you were finally able to relax a bit and push a pressing matter of finding your sibling for a few days later.

the lantern rite day grew near and it was already happening in the evening. for some reason hu tao insisted of pampering you up and didn’t let zhongli see you until the event started.

“why are you like this?” you ask tiredly hu tao as she was helping you to put on a classic chinese dress that was worn both by men and women (and everyone in between) in this festive time.

“you think i don’t see how you’re staring at each other?” she giggled as she started rummaging through her hair pins that would look good on you.

“each other?!” you yelped in confusion, only to be met with a flustered reflection of yourself in a mirror in front of you, so you dropped your shoulders and sighed, lowering your gaze, “if anything, it’s only me who’s staring, hu tao..”

“ha!” the laugh was more similar to a bark as she reacted to your words and soon enough appeared next to you, putting a pin to your bangs, adding your hair a little decorative twist, “that’s what you think.”

you didn’t have any time to protest to that, because you heard a knock on the door and hu tao yelled “don’t you dare come in, old man!” right back.

“i just wanted to inform you two that the festival has already begun,” said a calm muffled voice outside and you found yourself smiling at that.

“okay, we’re almost done!” said hu tao and finally helped you stand up, letting you look at yourself in the mirror.

you really looked exceptional tonight and couldn’t hold your positive emotions bubbling inside of you.

“thank you,” you said to hu tao and hugged her tightly.

she just giggled and murmured something along the lines of “don’t mention it” and went with you out of the room, straight onto the balcony in front of the wangsheng funeral parlour.

your eyes found zhongli immediately as he turned and looked at you.

he gave a polite nod to his friend and then his amber orbs drifted to you and his expression broke into something way softer than you’ve ever witnessed before.

only after a while you realised that your festival dresses were matching. yours was just in lighter, yellow tones, whereas his was in dark brown ones. it complemented each other perfectly.

you didn’t really notice how it happened, but you two ended up alone, just walking on the outskirts of liyue harbour, after participating in many festival activities.

you were standing on the hidden viewpoint where you could see the whole city, beautifully lit up, yet where you were standing there were scarcely any lamps, so the atmosphere was dim and comfortable.

zhongli was the first one to break the pleasant silence between the two of you.

“i dont want to be straightforward,” he started as he stood next to you, his hand on the railing of the balcony, “but i’m afraid i just have to share my feelings with you, y/n.”

you looked up at him, question in your eyes.

could it be?..

“i don’t usually take interest in humans, but.. it’s safe to say you drew me in and left me enchanted,” words were rolling off his tongue effortlessly, “by your driven heart, pure intentions and determination,” he paused a little and then chuckled to himself, “kind of remind me of myself, back in the day.”

with his free hand he reached out to yours, and took it in his palm, squeezing a little;

“i’m not immune to human weaknesses either.

and my guess is that i’m certainly not immune to your charm.”

he then brought your hand to his lips and gave it a light kiss, eyes trained on you.

“so if you accept me, then i’d be happy to court and protect you,” he finished his speech more quietly than he began and now was just politely waiting for your response.

for the rest of your life, if you allow me; he thought to himself, but these kinds of words are still too heavy for you to bear, he settles and doesnt say the rest of his initial sentence.

he came to accept that his lovers will come and go, since he is an immortal being, but it won’t stop him from giving his all to his loved ones.

“zhongli..” you said with trembling lips, as you tried your hardest not to cry.

you were falling in love with him slowly day by day, not even realising it and you’d never even think of him reciprocating your feelings and now it simply feels too overwhelming. in a good way, of course.

“is that a yes?” he squeezed your hand once more, his smile growing wider and eyes softer.

“of course,” you sniffed and pushed yourself into his embrace, not willing to let him see you cry, at least not yet.

you felt his heartbeat in your hug and you swear you never wanted to let go anymore.

“thank you,” he said gently and you felt his lips pressing to the top of your head.

you really chose the best man to fall in love with. ////// if you wanna be added to my genshin (or any other fandom) tag list then please either comment or dm me! also my requests are open so feel free to text me that as well, if you’d like <3

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #rex lapis x reader #zhongli #rex lapis #genshin #genshin zhongli #genshin fanfiction

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serendipityunho · 4 years

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Cheat Codes (M)

❀ Genre: smut, angst, college au ❀ Pairing: dom!Seonghwa x brat!Reader (fem.) ❀ Word Count: 5.3k ❀ Warnings: explicit language, intoxication, brat taming, hair-pulling, fingering, biting kink, blowjob, teasing, clit play, dirty talk, begging, explicit sexual intercourse, a little bit of a fight between seonghwa and yunho, yunho got his feelings hurt :(

❀ Synopsis: "This party's boring, wanna get out of here?", may have perhaps led you to make the biggest mistake of your life by sleeping with your best friend's other best friend, your best friend who happens to be in love with you.

Another year, another number changed on his age. Despite that change, Yunho would always remain a child at heart, getting excited and wide-eyed at the birthday cake you’d always bake him. But for the past couple of years, there’s been a twist, he was able to drink legally. Since then, parties and gatherings were always wild, bringing a new meaning to the word ‘celebration’.

You’d do anything for your best friend, and he’d do anything for you. Yunho was there for you since you could remember, he was the first to show up with a bandaid when you fell off your bike or when you tripped over the rock chasing him around his house. It was an unbreakable bond, everyone knew it, they could see it, how close the two of you are.

“One time for the birthday bitch- Ow! What was that for?” Mingi shot Yunho a hurtful look as he rubbed his arm from Yunho’s warning punch.

“Call me a bitch one more time and let’s see where that leads you,” he was obviously kidding, who in their right mind would ever dare to harm Mingi? All he does is just vibe in his own little world, smiling at every living thing.

This year, it was a whole lot more different compared to his usual birthday bashes. The girls, the beer kegs, the rave lights, the party animals? Not a single one in sight. Yunho thought it was time for a change in the annual scenery, it definitely let the both of you breathe a little bit more.

To be honest, it felt quite unusual without the booming music and sweaty bodies sexually grinding against one another. Not that you were complaining, it was a relief not to witness any more wild scenes.

Last time, San had to get stitches on his head as a result of slipping off the diving board. And Mingi? Let’s spare the details and just say his chest was in pain from a Hennessy-drunk-Wooyoung trying to vacuum his ‘tiddies’. Don’t ask how he managed to secure a vacuum in the first place.

“Happy birthday, shithead,” was the first thing you say to him, pulling yourself onto one of the kitchen stools as you watch him gulp down a cup of whatever mix of alcohol he had swirling in there.

“Thank you, shithead, want a drink?” Yunho always offered you drinks whenever he had the chance, getting you drunk was always his favourite thing to do. Why? It was so he could freely express his feelings for you without the fear of you remembering it the next day.

How did you know that? Yunho had once underestimated your drinking ability. It was quite a night to remember when Yunho mistook your fuller cup of alcohol for his, making him spew out the most cooing confession you’ve ever heard.

It honestly didn’t come as a surprise. One of you was doomed to fall for the other, he just happened to be the first.

“No thanks, we’re keeping it calm this time, remember?”

“Right, right. Calm.”

Several of his friends had been invited to Yunho’s little birthday gathering. They had just been as confused as you were when you were told there was no big party this year. But, of course, none of them questioned the birthday boy of his intentions.

You’ve familiarised yourself with their faces around campus, but San and Wooyoung were the only two you’ve actually brought yourself to talk to beside Mingi occasionally. The two were tight-knit, maybe even more so than Yunho and yourself. A pair who wreak chaos and havoc everywhere they go. No one could ever forget the time Wooyoung walked the walk of shame with nothing but a pizza box covering his lower region and San’s beanie on his head.

“You never told me what’s with the sudden change,” no one had really asked Yunho, maybe that’s what he liked about them, the suppressed urge to ask a million questions. “No girls accepted your party invites? Shocking.”

“No, it’s not that,” Yunho sighed, leaning back against the counter with his hand wrapped on the edge. “I can’t have big loud parties for the rest of my life, you know?”

“And what about it?”

“Don’t know, I just felt like having people I actually care about here,” it was rare to have a friend like Yunho, sure he was easy to talk to but that doesn’t automatically make someone his friend. “A time where I don’t have to fake a smile for an entire night because that shit just makes my face cramp.”

“Oh, please, don’t get all soft on me now. It’s your birthday, cheer up a bit, yeah?” You punched his shoulder playfully before hopping off the stool, grabbing his hand to lead him to the yelling boys in the backyard.

“Pftt- I’m not getting soft, you know it’s the Vodka.” oh, the excuses always amazed you.

You could feel goosebumps poking out from under your cold skin, the night was chilly with a few waves of shivering breezes, you couldn’t help but mentally scold yourself for forgetting to bring a jumper with you. Yunho probably had none left considering you’ve stolen almost all of them to bring home.

It was a mystery how none of these boys reacted the way you did to the cold, it was as if their skin was ice itself. They just continued yelling and throwing arms around each other like it wasn’t a single care in the world. The brooding effects of alcohol, you could say.

Yunho wasn’t particularly a wild drunk, but when he was, it was something that needed to be recorded and watched the morning after. He was never wildly drunk at his big birthday bashes but tonight was, as said, different. Drowning himself in bottles of soju until his pale skin flushed bright red, Jongho could probably mistake it for an apple and break his skull. God hopes that doesn’t happen.

Despite familiarising yourself with the new crew, there was one who you couldn’t help but pay attention to more. He wasn’t like the others, he didn’t give off San and Wooyoung’s chaotic behaviour, he didn’t carry Hongjoong’s talkative manner and he definitely doesn’t seem like he would replicate Mingi’s clumsiness or Jongho’s bright personality.

The best you could assume from this boy was that he would probably share the same bluntness as Yeosang. Cold and blunt. Nothing else.

Park Seonghwa.

There was something about him. Maybe it was the sense of mystery that caused him to occupy most of your headspace. He looks like he holds a lot of mystery, mysteries you were eager to explore.

You didn’t even realise you were staring blankly at him until the brooding pair of dark brown eyes met yours from across the circle of fold-out chairs, making you choke on the cheap liquor before quickly snapping your gaze away from the boy and to the drunken group of boys looking like they were playing ring-around-the-rosie.

It was just the two of you. Sitting in the array of seating with live entertainment before your eyes. Entertainment as in watching Mingi trying to lick his elbow. You could’ve sworn the people in front of you were simply just children in the bodies of grown men. Where did Yunho even find these boys?

Amusement from watching the chaos unfold before you quickly washed away as you kept your seat warm, watching your liquor hitting the sides of your cup as you lazily mixed it. Laughter boomed recurrently throughout the backyard, something that was honestly keeping you awake for the night.

You hate to say it but, you were bored as fuck.

Sure, it was nice to stray away from Yunho’s regular birthday bashes but a little more entertainment rather than alcohol and snacks would’ve been a little nice. The several bodies of young men seem like they’re having the time of their lives just dancing on the edge of the pool right now, one was surely destined to fall in and cause a chain reaction.

Seeing Yunho so happy and not actually fake smiling was enough to convince you to stay and not drag him to the closest nightclub. What the birthday boy wants, the birthday boy gets.

“Hey,” the voice was nothing like you’d expect, soft and comforting but deep and brooding at the same time, making you snap your attention to the boy sitting down on the chair next to you.

“Hi,” was he as bored as you were? Looked like it. His cup was nearly as empty as yours.

“How long have you known Yunho?” Seonghwa asked, slouching back against the flimsy chair as he downed the last of his drink.

“Since we took our first baby steps. Childhood friend, and you?”

“Known the big guy since highschool,” that’s weird, Yunho never mentioned a guy named Park Seonghwa once in his life till now. Let alone, you’ve never even seen him around school since the two of you went together.

“I don’t remember him telling me about you until now. Did you go to the same school as us?”

“I studied abroad in Australia, that’s why he never mentioned me. Thought our friendship wouldn’t last by the time I got back so there was no point in bragging about it.”

Well that explains it then.

“Huh, interesting,” despite sitting a few feet away from the pool, the lights had illuminated his face perfectly, showing off his sharp features you were able to admire from up close when he moved seats next to you. There was one thing you were captivated by the most. His eyes.

They were very alluring eyes, it was as if they were hand-sculpted by an almighty deity itself.

His leather jacket framed his figure perfectly, a beautiful man with a sense of style? Makes you wonder if he has a girlfriend.

“Yeah, look,” Seonghwa sighed, running a hand through his sleek black hair before inching closer to you. “I don’t know how to say this but, this party is getting boring. Wanna get out of here?”

And so you were right.

“As much as I would like to, I don’t think I should keep him out of my sight.”

“We can just go somewhere more calmer like upstairs if you want?” You wanted to snort at his desperation. It was clear what his intentions were and he obviously wasn’t trying to hide it. Yet, you weren’t willing to hide yours either.

“Yeah,” you smirked, licking your top row of teeth before pushing yourself off the chair. “We can go upstairs.”

Seonghwa didn’t even bat an eye before taking a hold of your hand in his, literally dragging you back inside the house where he discarded his empty solo cup in the trash along with yours. The source of laughter grew quieter as the two of you descended further into the house, silently navigating up the staircase with nothing in mind other than the fact that both of you were obviously desperate for some sort of action.

Your easy agreement probably made it sound like you were one of people who slept with anyone they could, but that wasn’t the case. Turning down boys was practically your profession. But with Park Seonghwa? You wanted a taste of that.

You wanted a taste of his mystery, you wanted a touch of that tattoo strip on the side of his neck and the ones on his fingers. You just wanted to feel the flexed bicep underneath the tough leather jacket and the alcohol kissed lips against your neck and preferably on every inch of your body.

Who could blame you for wanting to?

“I didn’t think you were the desperate type,” Seonghwa lows, pushing you against the bedroom door as he locked it.

“I’m not,” your eyes flicker up to his, smirking as you place a hand on the side of his neck, tracing his tattoo with your finger. “You just happened to catch my attention recently.”

“I’m flattered, really,” Seonghwa smirked, eyeing your features with his arms caging you between his body and the door.

“Just fucking kiss me already.”

“Oh, you’re so desperate for me to just fuck you right now aren’t you?” Seonghwa growled, grabbing your waist and pushing you backwards onto the bed until you were flat on your back.

“You’re delusional if you think I’m going to beg for it,” patience wasn’t really on your side, you weren’t gifted with it at all. Especially when it came to fucking.

“Alright, bet.”

A pair of luscious lips slammed against yours in a matter of seconds, Seonghwa was pushing your body deeper into the mattress as his knee pushed open your legs and hands sliding up from your sides to your hands. It was as if you were kissing nothing but mouldable chocolate that tasted of a faint strawberry chapstick, kissing it so hungrily.

“You think I can’t make you beg? Just watch,” Seonghwa’s lips hovered over yours, barely parted as he pushed your legs further apart with his knee, fingers popping the button of your jeans before pulling down its zipper.

“I don’t give in ea- shit,” your head lurched forward as Seonghwa pressed his fingers against your clit, rubbing it slowly before guiding it down to your folds and cloaking his fingers with your wetness.

“Fuck, what was that? Starting to get wet for me?”

“Don’t act like you don’t have a stiffy here,” you could feel Seonghwa’s hard-on underneath his jeans rubbing against your thigh, making you smirk before subtly moving your leg.

“Are you trying to make me beg? No, I don’t play like that,” Seonghwa lowered his face against your neck with a low groan, sinking his long fingers into your pussy with ease before pumping them in and out, earning a quiet whine from you.

“Tsk, tsk, I can do this all night, you know?” You could feel a smirk against your neck, the chilling inhales and exhales against your skin sent shivers down your spine as Seonghwa quickened the pace of his fingers pumping in and out of you, causing your knees wanting to shut close.

“Fuck- Seonghwanggha,” he wasn’t kidding when he said he could make you beg. You were literally on the verge of it. His fingers weren’t enough and he knew that, they were just enough.

“Aw, are you getting needy? Hm? Do you want more?” The tease sent your brain into a frenzy, cloaked with a thick film of haze as Seonghwa starts to rub your clit with the palm of his hand while still fucking you with his fingers.

“Yes, jesus fucking christ- yes!”

“Yes what? Hm? What do you want?”

“You.”

“I need you to say it.”

“Ohmyfuckinggod- I want you to fuck me.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear that.”

“Fuck me, I want you to fuck me- ughhnah fuck,” a sharp pain brews against your neck, Seonghwa had caught the flesh of your neck between his teeth, biting it while pulling your jeans and panties down to the floor.

A moan slips out of your mouth as Seonghwa licks the spot on your neck, kissing it before sucking on your jawline. The sudden idea of where you were and what you were doing left your mind like a flash, all you could think of was being touched, touched by Seonghwa and kissing his tattoos on his fingers that were knuckles deep inside of you.

“Told you I would make you beg.”

Underestimation was always your weakness, tonight was a clear sign you should probably stop doing that.

“You flatter yourself too damn much,” you grit, flipping Seonghwa onto his back before lowering yourself onto the waistband of his black jeans, eyeing his bulging erection with a smirk.

“But was I wrong? I don’t think so,” Seonghwa sits up, holding the side of your face in one of his hands before sliding them up to your hair. Your mouth shoots wide open as Seonghwa suddenly grabs a hold of your hair, pulling it back to expose the bruised skin on your neck.

Oh, how much you wanted to just rip his tongue out for his reckless teasing. It was driving you wild, too insanely wild. But you love it.

His belt unbuckled with ease as you yank his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, freeing his hardened cock that just hit his stomach. Your shirt already found itself discarded onto the floor with the rest of the items pulled off your body, as if they were just another decorative piece on the floor.

The longer he watched you with a cocky smirk, the more you wanted to just slap it off. But you were so turned on. So, so turned on you could practically feel your wetness smearing between your thighs.

A small wince shot out from above you as Seonghwa hissed through his gritted teeth, staring down at his dick in the palm of your hands, squeezing it lightly before slowly pumping. You knew if you decided to tease him, it wouldn’t end well for you, what else could you expect from a man like this?

“Jesus fucking christ,” Seonghwa moans, head falling back as he props himself up with his elbows. The tip of his dick was itching to hit the back of your throat any second now, just waiting for him to buck his hip up into your mouth.

It was the brief groan from the back of your throat that sent Seonghwa’s thighs squirming and abdomen tensing hard. You could tell he was enjoying the way your tongue swirled around the base of his cock, pressing against his length with enough pressure to have him gripping your hair.

Just the sound of him reacting to your mouth sent your head into a cloud full of lust. You wanted more and the best you could do at the moment was just rub your thighs together in anticipation as your eyes shot up to Seonghwa’s, droopy and filled with nothing but desperation.

“Fuck, you’re good,” his scrunched up face said it all. “Come here.”

You remove your lips from his throbbing length with a kissing sound before climbing on top of him only to be flipped right around, wrists pinned down on either side of your head. It was impressive how he could do that so nonchalantly with nothing but a cocky smirk.

“I should’ve guessed you were a brat,” Seonghwa hissed, brushing his tip against your clit. The urge to just buck your hips against his was killing you but you knew it would only do more harm than pleasure.

“Then I guess you better fuck me like one.”

The fire in his eyes was more than any sentence. His desire was fuming inside him, eager to cloud his judgement the moment your hole stretched from his length suddenly sliding into you.

He sure knew how to work his dick right when a grunt outed from your mouth as Seonghwa hooked his hips at an angle before thrusting. The eye-rolling pleasure only lasted a few seconds before Seonghwa quickened his pace, starting to snap his hips into you as he hooked both of your legs over his shoulders.

Fuck, you wanted to kiss him, but he knew what he was doing to you. He was doing it on purpose. There was no way he was going to let you kiss him. No way to busy your mouth as moans escape it recklessly.

“Ohffuck-” your head was growing lighter and lighter by the second, back arched off the mattress by now if it wasn’t for Seonghwa pushing your knees against your chest.

It was quite embarrassing hearing just your moans bouncing off the walls of this room as Seonghwa was pile-driving you deep into the bed, it only made you more desperate to crash your lips onto Seonghwa’s to deafen them. You really didn’t want to bite down on your arm, but you were more desperate than ever.

“Aw, why are you being so quiet hm? Is this dick not satisfying you enough?” Seonghwa smirks from above you, parting his lips so you could finally hear his staggered breathing.

“Y-Yeah, something like t-that- unghh,” sarcasm was undoubtedly your go-to method to cope with certain situations, but this time it was sarcasm that would get you more than you asked for.

“Oh? You really want to fucking play like that? You’re not going to be able to walk once I’m done with you.”

Emptiness looms in your heat as Seonghwa pulls out, latching either side of your waist before flipping you around on your stomach in a flash. A surprised gasp left your lips as he stingingly squeezed the flesh of your ass with a chuckle, hoisting you onto your knees.

“You really think you’re different from everyone el- mhmmh,” your snarky remark was cut short when you felt a hand push the side of your face against the mattress, legs twitching as Seonghwa thrust himself into you once again.

“You’re getting on my goddamn nerves,” Seonghwa snarls, keeping a tight grip on your hair in his fist as the other hand smoothes over your side.

The pumping pleasure coursing through your body felt electric, making you feel like you were above the clouds with each hard thrust. You could feel your ass bouncing as Seonghwa’s thrusts became sloppy, louder as the room echoed with nothing but a mix of your lewd moans and slapping skin.

“Tsk, I can feel you shaking underneath me. Regretting it yet?”

“I can fucking handle it, shut up,” you weren’t raised as no weak bitch.

“I really hope so,” well fuck. You could feel your thighs quivering as Seonghwa slowly pushed your legs further apart, stomach falling closer against the mattress. Just barely above it. “Impressive.”

It was a new angle that had you wanting to cry, with the way his cock hit deep in you and both of his hands either side of you holding him up. You couldn’t help but let your face fall against your arms, breathing as if it were your last and brows furrowed so hard you could feel your face about to cramp.

“Seonghw-aaahhmhm,” your legs twitched, pushing themselves higher off the mattress as your ass hits Seonghwa’s stomach with no choice. You couldn’t hold the position any longer unless you wanted to burst into tears from the burning in your thighs.

“What’s the matter huh? I thought you could handle it.”

“P-Please,” you cry.

“What do you want?”

“Kiss me- just please fucking kiss me,” your voice grew deeper and louder, desperation dripping from your tongue like poison as you push yourself off the mattress and flip Seonghwa onto his back with no time wasted in hoping your soaking wet cunt back on his length.

“Get your pretty lips here then,” your lips crashed harshly onto one another, teeth clashing as saliva coated your lips. The weak taste of his strawberry chapstick was still there and you loved it, love the way his lips moulded perfectly with yours each time as his hips snapped up into yours.

Seonghwa’s hands grip your hips roughly as he tries his best to hold them up with your legs quivering. His hips were snapping up briskly with a slap, shooting immense pleasure through your body like little sparks bottling into a ball in the deepest pit of your stomach.

“Oh fuck, right theremhmmgh right there,” you whisper a moan against his lips before letting your face fall in the nape of his neck, hand cupping the side of his face as the other grips the bedsheets.

Seonghwa just couldn’t control the loudness of his breathing anymore, grunting through gritted teeth as he shut his eyes close and glutes on fire with how rapid he was moving his hips. It was a breath-taking moment with your knuckles turning white and nails on the verge of tearing into the bedsheet as the pleasurable feeling of his cock pounding into you from below just pushing you to the edge of your combustion.

“Uggnghh- shitohmygod!” your fist loosened on the bedsheets before slamming them closer to your body, pushing yourself off of Seonghwa’s chest with a high-pitched moan and wide mouth as your brain turns into mush. Nothing but electrifying pleasure washed over you like a tsunami, making you clench tight around Seonghwa’s cock and gazing into his droopy lust-filled eyes.

A white film casts over your vision as you lower your lips onto Seonghwa’s, giving him a slow intent kiss as his hips calm down. Legs still quivering with the slightest movement as you lowered yourself with him, making his length slide out of you with ease and just poking at your stomach.

Seconds which felt like minutes went by with nothing but silence. Just basking in your own silent thoughts in your own heads.

You should’ve felt anything. Anything but guilt.

Why guilt? Out of all emotions, why guilt after fucking a stranger you just met? A stranger who was brought to you by your best friend. Your best friend who once confessed he loves you.

“This was a mistake,” you didn’t think twice before scattering to get your clothes, rushingly putting them back onto your body as Seonghwa was left there with confusion written all over his face.

“Wait,” he booms, “what do you mean this was a ‘mistake’?”

Seonghwa replicated your actions and started putting his clothes back on in a swift, still waiting for an answer after you responded with nothing but silence. He should’ve known, he was Yunho’s best friend too after all.

“Listen, just forget this ever happened, please,” just thinking about this night would eat you alive, and it would definitely kill Yunho from the inside.

Before Seonghwa could say anything, you dashed out of the bedroom door, skipping down the stairs with your heart pounding like crazy, ready to jump out of your chest. It wasn’t long before you could hear footsteps following you closely behind, which made you even more uneasy as you could tell he was desperate for answers.

“Hey, what the fuck is your problem?” Seonghwa grabs you by the arm, halting you in your escape before letting go with a piercing stare. “You can’t just beg me to fuck you like that and say, oh, ‘this was a mistake’.”

You could tell he was mocking you, but you really couldn’t blame him. The only person to blame here was you. You should’ve known better than to sleep with one of Yunho’s best mates, especially when you knew the boy had deep feelings for you.

“Because it is a mistake,” you grit, “we can’t tell Yunho what happened… it’ll break him.”

In all honesty, it would break you more than him. Guilt was a more deadlier disease than heartbreak, it was worse when it came down to friendships more than love itself.

“Wha-”

“Can’t tell me what?”

Your eyes widen in shock as you snap your attention to the familiar voice behind you, already feeling a pang in your chest as your eyes locked onto Yunho’s innocent ones. Seonghwa kept quiet as you tried to choke out a few words to Yunho, flickering his gaze back and forth between the two of you.

“Um, nothing! Nothing, we were just getting to know each other, that all,” you try your hardest to make your fake smile not obvious, but it clearly wasn’t working with Yunho’s confused gaze turning into a suspicious one.

“Getting to know each other huh?” Yunho poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, running his eyes up and down the two of you.

“Yeah.”

“I could tell,” an octave drop in Yunho’s voice sent you breathing harder as his facial features hardened, soft brown loving eyes turned into a cold glare. “You fucking bastard.”

Yunho’s attention wasn’t on you anymore, it was focused on the person standing behind you. Everything happened so quickly, next thing you know, Yunho was pinning Seonghwa up against the wall by his collar, faces close in proximity with jaws clenched and fists balled.

“You fucking knew,” Yunho snarled, “and yet you still fucked her. I thought you were my best friend, Hwa. What the fuck happened to that huh?”

“H-How?” could he smell Seonghwa’s cologne on you? What the heck.

“Your shirt is inside out.”

Well, fuck. Not only did he catch you lying straight to his face but he caught his two best friends fucking each other, his best friend and someone who he had poured his heart and soul to.

“Yunho, please. I can ex-”

“You can explain? Yeah, alright go ahead, let’s hear what you have to say and if this motherfucker has anything else to add to it.”

“Yunho, get your hands off of me or we’re going to have a problem,” Seonghwa tries his best to pry Yunho’s grip from his collar, standing on his toes as he faces his deadly glare.

“We already have a problem, Hwa,” Seonghwa drops down with a thud as Yunho finally lets him go, throwing his glare back onto you. “Go ahead, say what you have to say.”

“I-I… we just… we were desperate, Yunho,” it wasn’t the best and most plausible excuse but it was honestly it.

“Desperate. Out of all people, you choose him? Are you serious? I don’t know if you got my hints, but fuck!”

“Yunho, I am so so sorry. Please, just-”

“God, I hate being in love with you!”

It was at that moment, you could see your world crumbling down as Yunho bites back a quiver. His eyes glossy and starting to frame with red as Seonghwa also couldn’t help but wear a remorseful face.

“Hey-”

“Don’t fucking touch me, Hwa,” Yunho aggressively brushed off Seonghwa’s hand on his shoulder, throwing him a side glare as he lowers his head. “Go home.”

“Woah, what is going on?” all three of your heads snapped up to a red flushed, drunk Mingi with a half empty bottle of soju in his hands stopping mid way with a questioning look on his face. Soon enough, the whole group of boys were here, standing behind Mingi with a replicated confused face.

“Everyone, go home. I’m not feeling good tonight,” Yunho pushed through the group of boys, passing to the kitchen where he grabbed a new cold bottle of soju from his fridge.

“Man, you sure? Want us to stay just in case?” Jongho spoke, brows raised as he was concerned for his gloomy looking friend.

“Mingi can stay, I don’t trust him alone at home while he’s drunk. Everyone else go home, please.”

“Yun-”

“I said leave,” you could barely even choke out his name before getting cut off again, guilt slowly but painfully chewing away at bits of your soul.

“Alright, you heard the man. Leave him be,” Yeosang took the liberty to usher everyone out with swaying arm movements, clueless of what had unfolded before everyone had walked in.

Mingi smiled brightly, waving his goodbyes and yelling his goodbyes as he joined a slouched Yunho in the kitchen. You couldn’t help but plaster a fake grin to fuel his happy hour before leaving out the door, embraced by the cold once more. But this time, you weren’t just cold on the outside, you could feel it inside of you. As if you had just turned yourself into a cold-blooded killer.

Murdering whatever trust and happiness Yunho had left in that big body of his.

Like everyone else in the entire world, you had to live with what you got, what you’ve done, what you can’t take back.

#ateez smut #seonghwa smut #kpop smut #park seonghwa #smut #fanfiction #ateez oneshots #kpop oneshots #ateez imagines #kpop imagines #ateez angst #kpop angst #seonghwa angst #yunho angst #badboy!seonghwa #bestfriend!yunho

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going-dead · 3 years

Text

Phic Phight:Ghostly Inconvenience

Words:1672

@currentlylurking Team Human My First 2021 phic phight phic

Prompt from @Slyph-feather :Would love to see Danny dealing with some of the minor inconveniences/differences in being a ghost; slower heartbeat, sickly pallor, maybe not showing up correctly in photographs, etc... bonus points if this is like in the school setting (because I think that would be funny)

Danny thought he had all his ghost problems figured out, or at least was aware of all of them, at this point. Afterall he’s had his powers for almost a year now. He was wrong, oh was he wrong.

It was the first day of his sophomore year, no longer at the bottom of the high school food chain. He stood in line to get his picture taken for his school ID. Sam and Tucker had different classes for first period so they were off getting their pictures somewhere else. After a few minutes of board waiting it was his turn. Paulina skipped past him to get her ID and look at the picture she just took.

Danny told the photographer his name and she entered a few things into her computer before gesturing for him to stand in front of the camera. Danny tried to make a few last second adjustments to his hair. “Okay smile!” The camera woman called out as he was blinded by a flash of light.

Danny started walking over to the ID station but was stopped. “Oh hold on dear the photo came out pretty blurry I’ll have to retake it. It’s no big deal don’t worry you probably just moved too quickly after the flash went off, stay still after the picture is taken okay?”

Danny sighed but did what he was told. After another blinding flash and staying as still as possible Danny looked towards the woman. The camera woman bit her thumb staring at the computer in front of her. “Okay it still was blurry stay there I’m going to take a few at once one of them will turn out good.”

Danny was pretty sure at this point he was going to go blind as he blunk the spots out of his vision from the repeated flashes. Honestly this was getting pretty tiresome already. He walked up to the woman silently praying at least one picture turned out fine. She clicked through the photos face growing more and more confused with each one. “Uh is something wrong?” He asked.

She shook her head. “I’m not sure. Almost all of the photos turned out blurry and the ones that didn’t are weird.” She saw his questioning face. “You’ve heard of red eye right? What happens when you take a picture and sometimes the eyes of the people in the picture show up red? Well I can’t say I’ve seen this version of it in all my years of photography.” She turned the computer to face him more. On the screen it was a photo of him. The area around him was blurred, the only thing in focus was him, almost too in focus, and what really shocked him was his eyes in the photo. His eyes were glowing green in the picture, almost like when you took a picture of a cat in the dark.

Danny felt like a deer in headlights, what were the chances that she would make the connection of him not being human? The woman just shrugged. “Well it looks like we won’t be able to get a proper photo today. You can use your school photo from last year for your ID for now until retakes in a week.” He let out a sigh, it wasn’t too bad though he didn’t really look much different from the year before. At most he grew two inches. Though it was weird that it happened. He wondered if it was because of his ghostly half. He didn’t exactly take many or really any photos of himself. Danny walked over to the ID station to explain his situation and hoped that this wasn’t how the rest of the day would go.

During second period it was time for the sophomores to get their health checks done. Though most students were pretty sure it was mostly just an excuse for the local college’s medical students to get some more patient contact hours and hands on practice. This time he did share a class with his friends which was nice. Though it wasn't like they could go into an exam booth together. Calling them booths was a bit of a stretch though really they were just four curtains with equipment to take vitals and a chair inside. There were about a dozen or so lined up in the gym.

“Daniel Fenton come to booth five please.” A man called stepping out of one of the booths as he pulled a pair of gloves on.

Danny walked over to said booth and pulled the curtain shut behind him. The man motioned for him to sit down in the chair. Danny obliged and sat down he bounced his leg as he watched the man prepare the equipment. “Alright good morning Danny. I’m Josh, I'll be doing your check up today. It’s just a simple overview of your health no need to be nervous. All I’ll be doing is taking your vitals and checking your reflexes and the sort. Any questions?”

Danny shook his head. He was nervous though, he couldn’t help it. He had tried his best to avoid any type of medical setting ever since the accident. It would be the first time since then that someone actually took a close look at him. But it would probably be fine right? Not like he would be giving a blood sample here or anything.

It went fine at first as the man -Josh- checked his reflexes, checked his ears, eyes, nose, and mouth. He then affixed a blood pressure cuff to Danny’s arm and stuck a temperature probe in his mouth. Once the results appeared on the machines screen his head tilted a bit. “You usually run a bit cold? Hm your pulse is a bit slower than average than normal too.”

Danny silently cursed. “Uh yeah that's normal for me.”

“Well as long as it’s within your baseline there’s nothing really to worry about. I’m going to listen to your heart and lungs now okay? The stethoscope is a bit cold so be prepared.” Josh warned. When he started to listen to Danny’s heart he seemed at a loss again. “Give me one second okay? I’ll be right back.” He stood up and walked out through the curtain. Well that probably wasn't a good sign.

Josh returned a minute later with an older man in tow. “Danny, this is Dr. Bears he’s just going to double check something for me.”

Danny nodded his head giving the doctor an awkward smile. The doctor pulled out a stethoscope of his own and placed it over Danny’s chest. He seemed to listen for a few seconds before moving onto a different region. He gave a small grunt before motioning Josh over. “It’s faint but he does have a heartbeat.”

“Well I know that. He’s clearly alive, he's going to have a heartbeat Doc.”

Danny laughed awkwardly as he continued to watch the two interact. “Try listening again. You’ll probably have issues with the mitral and tricuspid regions though, even I could barely hear it.” The doctor motioned towards Danny before walking out of the booth.

A few minutes later a bunch of other medical students filled into the tent to try to listen to his heart beat. Danny wasn’t sure how he felt about being a case study for a bunch of med students but as long as they didn’t figure out his secret he wouldn’t worry about it too much.

By the time the bell rang to signal the end of the period half the college students there had listened to Danny’s chest. After emerging from the booth he was met with confused looks from his friends he waved them off promising to explain it to them later.

By the pattern that was emerging Danny was dreading third period. It was english with Mr. Lancer. After everyone took their seats Mr. Lancer stood in front of the class and clapped his hands to bring the classes attention to him. “Alright class I hope you all enjoyed your summer break. I have exciting news for this school year. Due to the grant given to our school we now have laptops for you all to use during class.”

The class broke out in whispers and Danny started to have a bit of hope for the rest of the day. Once the laptop cart was wheeled in and each was assigned and passed out to each student they were instructed to make accounts for them. The moment Danny turned the laptop on it gave him a shock. He let out a yelp and barely managed to restrain himself from knocking the thing off of his desk. He shook his hand trying to dispel the pain. He gave the laptop a hesitant poke, no shock. He started on his task of making an account, but was quickly interrupted by the screen glitching out. Danny groaned, occasionally electronics would bug out around him if he was in a particularly sour mood, of course it had to happen today. He waited for the screen to return to normal before trying to continue.

He just managed to get the account created when it gave him another shock. He yelled in shock once more. Immediately after the lights flickered and all the laptops in the room shut off and the one in front of him started to smoke. The whole class was staring at him and he shrunk under their gaze. They all had bigger problems though as his laptop caught fire and set off the fire alarms.

“Great Gatsby! Everyone out of the building now!” Mr. Lancer yelled ushering the teens out and leading them to the parking lot.

Once Mr. Lancer made sure they were all accounted for Sam elbowed Danny in the ribs. “Nice going Danny.” Danny just put his head in his hands and groaned while Tucker pat him on the back. Why couldn’t he just have a normal life? Or just a normal day for once in his half life.

#Phic Phight #phic phight 21 #danny phantom #team human

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eleanorfenyxwrites · 3 years

Text

Where We've Been (Ao3)

My friend @megachewbecca requested something set post-canon between Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng in which they talk about "why they have decided to channel all their disappointments with themselves into each other". I don't think it came out exactly like that but they do still have a conversation about Stuff!

[Masterpost]

“Oh great,” Jiang Cheng snaps with as much venom as he can muster - the type that typically sends his intended target scrambling for cover, and/or has his disciples watching on in undisguised glee for whatever verbal flaying is about to begin.

However, said venom is only occasionally directed at his current target (though it’s happening increasingly often simply through an increase in exposure to each other due to certain Wei Wuxian-shaped influences). In all the times that it has been, however, he’s only ever received the same style of response.

“.....Mn.”

Jiang Cheng’s eye twitches and he refuses to acknowledge the headache already starting in his left temple.

“Don’t fucking start with that. I know you talk.”

Of all the people to be magically trapped in a cave with, Lan Wangji is absolutely without a doubt at the very bottom of his list. Below a fierce corpse, even, because then at least he’d have something to take his frustration out on. But no, he’s stuck with Lan fucking Wangji, because the universe is cruel like that. And this mere days after he had promised Wei Wuxian he would do his best to be more civil to Lan Wangji even though it was the so-great, so-wonderful, so-righteous Hanguang-jun who had a problem with him.

At the risk of sounding childish - he started it!

He walks a quick perimeter around the cave, trailing his hand along the wall to feel for any openings he could possibly miss in the uncertain light of the fire talisman in Lan Wangji’s hand. He’s nearly back to where he began when he feels a breath of moving air and he quickly moves towards it only for his entire arm to sink into what looks like solid rock. He yelps and jerks his arm back from whatever emptiness is on the other side of the illusion and then starts again when Lan Wangji is suddenly at his side between one breath and the next, utterly silent.

Jiang Cheng shifts away from both him and the wall as Lan Wangji steps closer to raise his free hand, pressing it forward until his hand sinks into the ‘rock’ just as Jiang Cheng’s had. He glances at Lan Wangji only to find his expression as impassive as ever from what he can tell, and he’s just opening his mouth to ask what he’s thinking when he suddenly just. Steps forward. Straight into the wall.

“Hey!”

Before he can think better of it, Jiang Cheng stumbles after him, disoriented in the sudden dark and then again by the sensation of pressure and cold closing in on him on all sides. The claustrophobia hits hard and fast as he takes another stumbling step forward - to be caught by a shockingly sturdy grip at his elbow.

“Careful,” Lan Wangji intones, holding the talisman a little higher as he looks around and Jiang Cheng shoves his hand away to straighten himself out, cheeks burning.

“Is it really such a good idea to go wandering around strange magic caves?” he grouses to the unmoving pillar of Lan Wangji’s back. His stupidly tall guan is poking up above his head and Jiang Cheng is seized suddenly with the childish urge to throw something at it - nothing big, just a pebble or something. Just to see if he can hit the point of it from behind. Just to see if he can make the perfect Lan Wangji do something besides walk around looking all...stately.

He absolutely refuses to acknowledge that it was similar desires that had motivated Wei Wuxian to tease and taunt his future husband in their teenage years - this is extremely different.

“We have wandered dangerous places before,” Lan Wangji replies smoothly and the full sentence is genuinely shocking. Jiang Cheng tries to remember the last time Lan Wangji had said a full sentence to him and he comes up blank. For years it’s been nothing but monosyllabic words, one of his plethora of hums, or one of his little duckling-esque juniors covering his ass and talking for him (as if Jiang Cheng can’t understand when he’s being snubbed with or without their ‘translating’).

In the surprise of being spoken to at all, it takes Jiang Cheng an extra beat or two to realize what he’d actually said, and when he does it brings him up short. He knows precisely what he’s referring to, of course, but his mouth quicker than his brain and all he can manage to do is croak a hoarse,

“What?”

Lan Wangji turns back to look at him, face inscrutable in the flicker of the fire talisman, though his eyes are, as always, sharp and keen.

“It was once our common goal to find Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji replies smoothly. “We faced dangers during our search, including Wei Ying himself when we found him.”

“He wasn’t -”

“Dangerous? Hm.” Jiang Cheng can’t help but scowl at the obvious skepticism in that fucking hum. He’ll never understand how Wei Wuxian finds Lan Wangji’s hums endearing (which he has said on far too many occasions) rather than absolutely infuriating.

“He wouldn’t have hurt us!”

“Debatable. He was barely himself, and he did not know we were present at first. It was possible we would be harmed.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t have a good reply to that so he doesn’t bother trying to find one, he simply starts walking and tries not to hate that Lan Wangji doesn’t even miss a beat as he falls into step beside him, still obnoxiously perfect.

“Alright fine,” he says when the silence becomes unbearable, roughly ten steps later. “So we worked together for a little while two decades ago. So what?”

“Your skills were admirable then, I know they have only improved over the years. I doubt we are in much danger in a cave in a well-populated region. It will not hurt to learn what is here.”

Fuck Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng thinks with as much vitriol as possible. He can’t say why it irritates him down to his core to be complimented by him, even obliquely, but honestly he’s pretty sure he’d prefer the stony, angry silences he’s been subjected to for so many years instead.

They walk in silence for a little while then, both on alert for something out of the ordinary. It’s Jiang Cheng who feels it first again and he stops in his tracks, holding one hand out and following a thready, barely-there stream of cooler air to a wall, utterly indistinguishable from the rest of the space around them.

“We should mark where we’ve been, just in case,” he says as his hand sinks into the rock like it’s made of pudding. The mental image adds an odd layer of unpleasantness to the cool pressure of it, the idea of it...congealing around his hand making him wrinkle his nose a bit in distaste.

“Mn.”

Jiang Cheng loses the battle against rolling his eyes but he says nothing only because Lan Wangji follows it up with a gesture that leaves a signature on the solid part of the wall next to the illusion, the characters glowing a gentle blue.

“Any way you could do one of those back at the beginning in case someone needs to come hunting for our bodies?” he asks as dryly as he can manage to try to get a rise out of his companion, but all it earns him is a flat look that Lan Wangji doesn’t break as he repeats the gesture only to send the talisman darting back up the path the way they had come.

He’s pretty sure it would be physically impossible for him to scowl any deeper than he does when Lan Wangji waves him ahead towards the false wall, the silent ‘after you’ somehow full of so much sarcasm it’s very much toeing the line of insulting, at least in Jiang Cheng’s book.

This time he’s prepared for the discomfort of the illusion and he walks smoothly through it. He turns to watch Lan Wangji join him and he’s startled to realize he doesn’t even seem to walk through the wall. One moment Jiang Cheng is alone on the path in the pitch black and the next Lan Wangji is beside him looking as unruffled as ever, fire talisman still glowing between his extended fingers held at shoulder-height.

“Do you have more of those?” Jiang Cheng asks begrudgingly with a nod at the light. He knows it’s Wei Wuxian’s invention, and that he of all people has no business asking to use it when he’s spent so long hunting down any trace of his brother’s work to destroy it utterly. He also knows that Lan Wangji is equally aware of this, and yet he simply reaches into the front of his robes to withdraw another talisman between his fingertips and hold it out for him to take. He studies it for a long few moments once it’s in his hands, but he can find nothing suspicious in it at all. It should be a good thing. It is. But it also only serves to make him feel foolish, as he has many times since Wei Wuxian’s return.

“It will not harm you,” Lan Wangji just has to break his silence to supply, because of course he fucking does, the asshole.

“I know that!” Jiang Cheng snaps. He leaves off investigating the talisman any further to stuff it in the front of his own robes, just in case they should get separated. “You think I don’t understand Wei Wuxian’s inventions? I know them better than anyone.”

“Debatable.”

“Fucking debate it then!” he challenges as he storms off, Lan Wangji somehow seeming to walk sedately even as he keeps pace with him.

“Wei Ying is a prolific inventor. He uses our home as a workspace. He describes each of his new inventions to me in detail, and I offer assistance when necessary to refine his processes.”

“Fine, you know his inventions better now, but I’m the one who spent 13 years chasing down all his notes and the morons trying to use them for themselves!”

“Recognition of the work for the purpose of destruction does not in itself lead to understanding that which you are destroying.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

“I assist him with all of his techniques, old and new, demonic and orthodox. I do not, nor have I ever, attempted to ruin his work - unlike you.”

Jiang Cheng stops in his tracks and whirls around to face Lan Wangji who finally has a different expression on his face, though how he managed to make himself look even colder than before Jiang Cheng has no idea.

“ ‘Unlike me’,” he repeats, his voice utterly flat in another way that usually has people scrambling for cover, though of course Lan Wangji seems completely unmoved.

“We are fundamentally different, Jiang Wanyin.”

“Yeah no shit,” he mutters as he turns around again to continue forward at an angry, too-quick clip that Lan Wangji effortlessly keeps stride with, the fucker. “Those people who tried to follow in his footsteps were murderers.”

“Mn. They were irresponsible. Wei Ying has expressed regrets that his notes found unworthy hands to wield them.”

“And yet not one other person ever tried to stop them! It was just me this whole fucking time! What else was I supposed to do, just let them run rampant?!”

“No.”

Jiang Cheng grinds his teeth and tightens his grip on Sandu as he’s forced to acknowledge that he understands what Lan Wangji was really conveying even through a single syllable - that he recognizes that he had done what he felt he had needed to do to protect the innocents that were his responsibility, and yet there’s still a note of judgement in his voice that puts Jiang Cheng’s hackles up.

“But?” he prompts through his teeth.

“Disposing of Wei Ying’s notes out of anger that they were being misused by others was unnecessary and self-serving.”

“Well they’re gone anyway and all your disapproval of my methods isn’t going to bring them back.”

Lan Wangji stops all at once and Jiang Cheng walks on a few steps ahead before he realizes and stops as well, turning back to face him with a scowl.

“What?”

“Illusion.” Lan Wangji turns to run his fingertips along the wall to his left, moving slowly until the wall swallows them up. He withdraws to sketch another marking talisman and leaves it on the wall before stepping forward into the illusion, leaving Jiang Cheng to scramble after him in the dark, guided only by the blue talisman.

“Stop doing that!” he blusters as soon as he gets through. “It’s fucking dark in here and you have the light!”

“Mn.”

“And stop doing that!!” he outright shouts at Lan Wangji and his stupid fucking nothingness. He’s as blank and icy as ever and Jiang Cheng suddenly realizes that he has officially had it. “What is your fucking problem?! You said it yourself that we’ve worked together before, we fought together during the Sunshot Campaign, what’s so different now?!”

Jiang Cheng finally goes quiet as Lan Wangji’s expression..shifts. Outwardly, he doesn’t really seem to change that much, especially not in the uncertain light of the talisman. But there’s something about his bearing, his presence that changes and it’s only then that Jiang Cheng realizes that what he’s been faced with so far is Lan Wangji’s distant disapproval. What he’s looking at now is..anger. The sort of anger that has given Lan Wangji as fearsome of a reputation in some circles as Jiang Cheng has earned for himself.

He refuses to back down as Lan Wangji practically stalks closer, each step precise and deliberate until he’s right in front of him, glaring from under furrowed brows and looking down his nose at him in a way Jiang Cheng viscerally hates.

“You killed Wei Ying.”

It’s delivered utterly flat, cutting and sharp at the edges. Through his teeth, through the proper Lan version of a snarl. It leaves Jiang Cheng speechless, floundering for a moment through the slice of it in his heart. It hurts as much as it has any time someone has dared to point it out to him - he thinks back to that day of Wei Wuxian’s reappearance in the mountains and the Lan kid who had reminded him he’d killed Wei Wuxian himself and he wonders suddenly just who it was who had taught the Lan juniors that part of the story. It had been common knowledge in the aftermath of the battle, but he realizes now that Lan Wangji, extremely influential and vital to the education of the next generation, has been holding that grudge close to his heart for twenty years. Who knows what else he’s taught them about that awful day.

“What?”

Now Lan Wangji really does snarl, lips pulled back over his teeth and nose wrinkled in disgust as he steps forward and Jiang Cheng takes an automatic step back only to be crowded back against the wall.

Lan Wangji was right - they’re more dangerous than anything in this cave could be, and Jiang Cheng very much doesn’t like getting that reminder when he’s apparently the prey.

“You killed my Wei Ying. You failed him.”

“ ‘Your Wei Ying’?!” he retorts as he finds his metaphorical footing again. “That was news to me when he suddenly popped back up, you know! You sure as fuck didn’t bother making that clear back when it could have helped him.”

It’s instantly clear that he struck a nerve and he presses the advantage as something shutters in Lan Wangji’s furious glare.

“You want to talk about who failed him? You didn’t manage to protect him either! You hid in your mountain and you Lan thought you were above the whole world, and by the time you realized what was happening it was too late to protect him!”

“I know.”

The admission draws Jiang Cheng up short and at least some of his anger bleeds out of him as Lan Wangji’s glare fades a little further and he drops his eyes down somewhere around his shoulder, though he’s still got him crowded up against the wall and a glance down shows that Bichen is half out of her sheath.

“You know?”

“I have discussed it with Wei Ying in detail. He has forgiven me.”

“He’s forgiven me too!”

Lan Wangji’s gaze darts up to meet his again, ice cold but no longer distant - this cold judgement is now very personal. Jiang Cheng is chagrined to realize he already misses the detached, uncaring attitude of mere minutes ago.

“He has forgiven you. I will never.”

Jiang Cheng takes a deep breath in when Lan Wangji steps back to give him his space again, and if it shakes a little then that’s his business alone.

He heard the rumors back then. That Lan Wangji had killed to protect the Burial Mounds. Their paths had crossed many times over the years in their dual pursuit of hints and rumors of demonic cultivation, of whispers of the Yiling Laozu returned as a vengeful spirit, or reincarnated, or miraculously alive and gathering disciples. He had assumed then that their goal had been the same, but now he wonders if when he had been seeking to squash any evidence of his brother’s work, Lan Wangji had been chasing it in the hopes of finding more. Finding truth in the rumors. Finding Wei Wuxian.

He can admit to himself, deep down in the private spaces left inside of him that no one is allowed to see, that he had been disappointed each time the rumors had proven to be fake, or each time a new demonic cultivator was nothing but a cheap knockoff of Wei Wuxian using scraps of his notes to try to chase the full scope of the power he had developed. He had been angry with himself - furious, even - for that disappointment, but that didn’t make it any less real. All those years of searching, hunting, and in the end it had gotten him..nothing.

It was Lan Wangji who had won in the end. Wei Wuxian lives with him in Cloud Recesses. He visits Lotus Pier now that they’ve repaired at least the bulk of the damage to their relationship over the years since Wei Wuxian’s and Lan Wangji’s wedding following the revelation of Jin Guangyao’s plotting. Sometimes he stays for months on end, treating Lotus Pier as his home and returning to Cloud Recesses for short visits. But in the end he always returns to Gusu. To his husband.

He always leaves Lotus Pier - and her master - behind.

“Well, you won in the end anyway,” he says now into the loaded silence around them. He refuses to look at Lan Wangji as he steps away from the wall and continues along the path, lost in thought. “He chose you and Cloud Recesses over coming home when everything was over. Congratulations.”

Lan Wangji is silent at his side for quite some time as they walk, and Jiang Cheng doesn’t bother trying to break the quiet this time. They continue this way for a while, communicating with gestures when they find another illusion, and then yet another. It’s as they’re walking through the tunnel behind this fifth false wall of the night that Lan Wangji finally speaks.

“He longs for Lotus Pier.”

Jiang Cheng scoffs and tightens his grip around Sandu. “Well no one’s stopping him from coming home.”

“You misunderstand.”

“Speak plainly then, who can know what you mean when you hardly say anything?”

The judgemental silence that follows makes him grind his teeth even though he doesn’t know quite what he’s being judged for.

“He longs for the Lotus Pier that no longer exists but for in his heart and his memory.”

Jiang Cheng has to stop in his tracks at that and take a deep breath in, hold it, let it out slowly. His grip on Sandu doesn’t loosen, but some of the tension in his shoulders does as they slump ever so slightly under the weight of his heavy silk robes - robes befitting his status. He hardly notices that weight anymore, he’s had far too many years of carrying it, but sometimes it feels like he’ll be crushed under the burden of them.

“We rebuilt it using the old builders’ plans. It’s nearly identical to what it was before.”

“You are aware that is not the point.”

“Enlighten me then, oh great Hanguang-jun.”

The next silence feels..considering, and Jiang Cheng spares a thought to be dismayed that he’s learning how to read Lan Wangji’s many silences, whether he wants to or not (he doesn’t). He hates it when Wei Wuxian is right, and in this moment he’s forcefully reminded of how many times his brother has asserted that it’s possible to read Lan Wangji as easily as anyone else if one only knows what to look for. Jiang Cheng has never been interested in learning what to look for himself, but it seems he’s going to anyway.

“Wei Ying lives life in each moment. It is unusual for him to dwell in the past unless forced to. He is my opposite. I understand well the pain in his eyes when he returns from Lotus Pier. He is unsettled by the lack of familiar faces, the easy happiness of the past, and by the reminders that time has been cruel in its passing.”

Jiang Cheng’s mouth drops open but he hastily shuts it again when Lan Wangji looks at him, eyes once again unreadable.

“I believe if he could somehow find a way to travel through time and return to when the Lotus Pier of your childhood was the only home he knew, he would. If he could return to when you and Jiang Yanli were his world, he would. The knowledge that this version of Lotus Pier is lost to him for good is not an easy burden to bear, and each visit is a reminder of his aches.”

“Stop.” Jiang Cheng turns his head in an attempt to hide that his eyes are suddenly stinging and his throat tight. It’s useless to hide, he knows, but his pride won’t allow him to cry in front of Lan Wangji, not like this. “You think he’s the only one who feels that way? I live there. I live it every single fucking day.”

“Then you understand.” Jiang Cheng says nothing in reply. It’s not really a question - they both know that he does. He wouldn’t have been so determined to remake Lotus Pier so exactly if he didn’t. “Do you begrudge him his attempt to live without this pain?”

“Yes!”

“Then you are hurting him further.”

Jiang Cheng musters up a glare through the sting of his sorrow, but he’s not sure how effective it is considering his eyes are still fighting desperately to shed their tears. Either way, Lan Wangji meets his glare with something that looks frustratingly like understanding. He doesn’t want Lan Wangji to understand him. He wants to argue with him, fight with him, force him to admit that for all their opposites they’re also fundamentally similar in one way that matters more than anything else -

They love Wei Wuxian.

It takes on different flavors, different appearances, but the fact remains that they love him down to their bones.

“Do you know why Wen Zhuliu was able to destroy my core?” he suddenly asks. If Lan Wangji is surprised by the change in subject he doesn’t show it. He simply shakes his head after a moment of consideration. “We were running, we were hiding, but Wei Wuxian left to get medicine for jie, she had gotten a fever after our parents...after everything. He told me to stay put in our room at the inn, but I didn’t. I saw Wen soldiers out in the street, they were looking for us and they spotted him, they were going to drag him away as soon as they realized who he was. I couldn’t...I let them catch me instead. They took me instead.”

His deepest secret. Something he hasn’t even told Wei Wuxian in all their talks over the last few years, and he, for some reason, has decided to tell fucking Lan Wangji, of all people. It is, he supposes, the last defense he feels he has. He loves his brother. He sacrificed his life for him. It’s not his fault that it didn’t stick, that Wei Wuxian would rip his very soul apart with his own two hands if he thought it would protect the people he cares about.

“He was never supposed to lose his. None of this was ever supposed to happen,” he finishes, unable to raise his voice above a crackling whisper. “I never meant to hurt him.”

Silence falls again, but for the first time tonight it feels...almost comfortable. Not quite companionable, but it’s not anything else really either. It simply is, the weight of the moment and his admission too heavy to cheapen with words.

He starts walking again when he feels capable of putting one foot in front of the other and Lan Wangji walks beside him. They go on through another tunnel of the cave that looks much the same as the others, and Jiang Cheng doesn’t even care if they’re lost, if they’re going in circles, if they’re not doing much of anything at all. It’s nice to just walk, to move, to not be alone with his thoughts in the dark as he has been far too many times over the years.

“You know Sizhui,” Lan Wangji says after a while of this, and Jiang Cheng snorts without much amusement.

“The polite kid who always talks for you like I don’t know you well enough to know you’re telling me to go fuck myself in your head? Yeah.”

“Mn. He is my son.”

That brings Jiang Cheng up short again and though he doesn’t stop walking he does stumble a bit and turn a shocked glare on Lan Wangji, still walking blithely along.

“Your son?!”

“Mn. His existence was kept quiet outside of Cloud Recesses. It is my understanding that outside of the Sect he is now known as an inner family disciple, but it is suspected he is a cousin.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“That is intentional, for his safety.”

“Why for his safety? Is being your kid that dangerous? When did you even...have a kid? With who?”

The glare Lan Wangji gives him out of the corner of his eye can only be described as ‘scathing’ and Jiang Cheng will admit that he kind of admires it. Envies it, really. It’s a pretty good glare.

“I adopted him. He was Wei Ying’s before he was mine.”

Jiang Cheng stares blankly ahead again as he tries to reconcile that, come to terms with it. All at once, he thinks back to the single time he had been to the Burial Mounds when it had still been a safe haven for the Wens. When a bright-eyed child had clung to his leg, and Wei Wuxian had swooped in to pick him up, to hold him and talk to him like a parent, to scold him with a smile on his lips and offer him gentle affection before sending him on his way.

He thinks about Lan Wangji defending the Burial Mounds from the cultivators who had wanted to sack the place after Wei Wuxian’s death, and he thinks about the Wens who had sacrificed themselves at Jinlintai.

He thinks about Jin Guangshan bragging about wiping out the remaining Wens in one fell swoop, and how if he was drunk enough, if the right person asked him to tell the story, he would boast that he had made sure that every last person had accounted for the crimes of their family. In his accounts, though, there had never been mention of a child - and his retellings had been painfully detailed.

“He’s that kid from the Burial Mounds. A-Yuan,” he whispers with dawning horror. “He’s Wen Yuan?!”

“Mn. Should you reveal his identity, no one will find your body to put it to rest.”

That makes Jiang Cheng snort again and this time he actually is a little amused. “Threats, Hanguang-jun? Not terribly righteous of you.”

“Without Wei Ying, A-Yuan was the only reason I could find to continue living. I would kill without hesitation for him, for Wei Ying.”

“You already have,” Jiang Cheng points out - everyone knows what had happened when Lan Wangji had defended the Burial Mounds, and Jiang Cheng at least is aware that Lan Wangji had also killed at Nightless City. He had seen him protecting Wei Wuxian, killing any cultivators who tried to get near enough to stop Wei Wuxian from playing that damned flute of his, to stop him from killing more and more of their own. He wonders how many people now, if any, know that some of the deaths from that night that have been laid at Wei Wuxian’s feet rightfully belong at Lan Wangji’s.

“Mn. I have.”

“And you know if Wei Wuxian could hear us talking about...all of this, he’d tell us both that he didn’t ask us to, that he doesn’t deserve all of this.”

“Yes.”

Jiang Cheng sighs and shakes his head, irritated with his brother and his self-sacrificing tendencies even now, all these years later because he just never fucking learns.

“Does it really hurt him to come to Lotus Pier?”

“It saddens him, but there is happiness as well. He was afraid of losing you as well even though you both live. He is relieved he has not. It is..complicated.”

“That’s an understatement,” Jiang Cheng mutters under his breath, but he knows Lan Wangji hears him anyway. They continue in another silence, and a few minutes later Jiang Cheng finds another illusion. “What the hell is going on in this cave?” he finally asks, exasperated once they’re on the other side of it in yet another identical tunnel.

Lan Wangji doesn’t answer, he merely keeps walking forward and Jiang Cheng is forced to follow him with a scowl firmly fixed on his face.

“I will never forgive you for killing Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says into the quiet. “However, it saddens him to feel that he must consistently choose between us. I will not make him choose any longer.”

“You were complicit in it too, you can’t keep pinning this just on me you know!”

“I will do what I will. However, you are my brother-in-law, and you have given Wei Ying happiness in this life.”

“Yeah well I hate you too, but I guess there’s not much I can do about it either since the idiot married you.”

“Indeed. A truce, then.”

“Fine. Truce.”

Jiang Cheng glances sideways at Lan Wangji to find him looking at him similarly out of the corner of his eye, and after a moment the corner of his mouth twitches into the barest hint of a smirk.

“What?”

“You should hunt with Wei Ying more often,” he replies and before Jiang Cheng asks him what he means, he stops to sketch another talisman in the air, this one a bright blood-red, and when he releases it there’s the sensation of a pressure he hadn’t even noticed in the air releasing and he works his jaw to pop his ears as he looks around only to realize that they’re back in the room they had started in. And on the wall where he had spotted the first illusion there are a series of marks glowing blue, all in a line one right after the other - the markers for each false wall they had passed through.

“What the fuck?”

“Awwww Lan Zhan! No fun, he would’ve kept going for hours,” Wei Wuxian suddenly pouts and Jiang Cheng whirls around to find his brother leaning insolently against the wall where the entrance to the cave had been sealed - and is sealed no longer. He looks past his brother’s shoulder to find that the entrance is once again open to the air beyond it, the smell of their campfire at the entrance filtering into the space along with the sound of the juniors from their sects laughing and chatting, relaxing after their hunt earlier in the evening.

“Mn.”

“Wei Wuxian!”

The man in question dances away from his lunge with a laugh that rings off the stone around them.

“A-Cheng!!!” he sing-songs, drawing the sound out as he darts over to hide behind his husband standing still in the center of the room. “Did you like my illusion? I’ve been practicing. Lan Zhan didn’t you tell him it was an experiment?”

“He did not ask.”

“Yes I fucking did!!!” Jiang Cheng shouts and he makes another grab for Wei Wuxian, fully intending to yank him into a headlock at least, but he’s stopped by Bichen held across his path and Lan Wangji raising an admonishing eyebrow at him.

“You asked what was happening. The answer was ‘illusions’, too obvious to bother with. You did not ask whose, or for what purpose.”

“I hate you both,” Jiang Cheng snaps because that’s a Wei Wuxian-style answer if he’s ever heard one, just..Lan-ified. He refuses to think about the possibility that those two are more suited to each other than anyone might suspect and instead he turns to stomp over to the entrance with the intention to go pilfer alcohol from Wei Wuxian’s stash. He deserves it after being forced to have an emotional conversation with Lan Wangji, of all people.

The acoustics of the cave mean that the voices behind him reach his ears even as he walks up the tunnel that leads to the forest outside.

“Did you have a good talk with him, Lan Zhan?”

“Mn.”

“Thank you.”

“No need.”

“Aiyah I know, but thank you anyway. The two people I love most in the world should get along.”

“A-Yuan and I get along very well.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian laughs and thankfully Jiang Cheng steps free of the tunnel into the clearing just beyond it before he has to hear any more, his ears and heart burning with the knowledge that Wei Wuxian loves him. That he finally has his brother back, even if it’s in a way he would have never chosen for them.

“Jiang-zhongzhu?” a mild voice asks, too gentle to startle, and he turns his head to find Lan Sizhui waiting nearby, a nervous expression on his sweet features, still just a little round with boyhood though it will likely only be another year or two before he loses all trace of baby fat whatsoever and matures into the man he’s quickly becoming along with the rest of his generation.

He meets the boy’s wide, earnest eyes and finds his defenses crumbling as he sees in him the boy who had hugged his leg and looked up at him with a curious little smile right in the middle of the misery of the Burial Mounds. He sighs heavily and turns his whole body to face him properly, his hands on his hips as he stares him down. To his credit, Lan Sizhui doesn’t cower or fall back at all, he simply waits patiently for Jiang Cheng to speak his mind.

“You might as well call me Jiujiu,” he harrumphs and Lan Sizhui’s expression falls open in surprise (and seriously, this kid was raised by Lan Wangji? He doesn’t see it.) “What? My stupid brother is your diedie isn’t he? You don’t have to, but..You can. If you’d like to.”

“Alright. Jiujiu,” Lan Sizhui replies, smiling and clearly pleased. The quiet moment is broken almost immediately by - who else - Wei Wuxian.

“DIDI!!!” he shouts, startling a nearby flock of birds, and it’s all the warning he gets before Wei Wuxian practically throws himself at him to cling to his side. “I knew you cared! Now you have to buy him presents for all his important occasions and we’ll bring him to Lotus Pier for New Year’s and -”

“Get off me!” Jiang Cheng growls as he shoves at Wei Wuxian without much success.

In the midst of their tousle, neither of them notice Lan Wangji drifting to Lan Sizhui’s side to press a comforting hand to his shoulder and gently guide him back in the direction of the camp, a rare, pleased little smile on his lips.

#The untamed fanfic #Lan Wangji & Jiang Cheng #Wangxian #Lan Wangji #Jiang Cheng #Wei Wuxian #Lan Sizhui #<- very briefly #post-canon #reconciliation

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qqueenofhades · 4 years

Note

If anyone is an enabling mood..HI, I AM ALWAYS IN AN ENABLING MOOD, YOU WANT ENABLING? HERE IT IS. I have soft loving enabling tho cos I don't like being mean it makes me sad.

As we all expected, I am very, very easy to enable. Credit to @voidxces for the beautiful and inspiring edit. Mildly smutty bits, hence the full story is below the cut.

Valletta, Malta

December 15, 1999

The customs line at Malta International Airport is long, maddeningly slow-moving, and the one guard stamping passports looks to be about ninety, as Joe shifts from foot to foot and tries to remind himself that they have nothing but time. (Unless, of course, the Y2K nuts are all correct and they’re two short weeks from the end of life as we know it, but if nothing else, living for almost a thousand years means that he has seen countless doomsday prophecies come and go without so much as a whimper.) It was a crappy flight from Paris – overbooked, understaffed, the inevitable screaming child two rows behind them and now determined to keep up the racket in the passport queue – and Joe’s trying not to look as stressed as he feels. This is their getaway for the holidays and the new year, the turn of the millennium, a huge and significant milestone for any number of reasons, and he’ll feel better once they’re out of here. Nobody’s at their best in the cattle corrals and the fluorescent lights of border control, another reminder of how much things have changed over all the years they’ve been coming to Malta. The first time they were here in 1501, all they had to do was sail up, get off the boat, and pay a bribe to the port official. Joe votes they try that now.

The line shuffles forward another inch, the child behind them screams even louder, and as Joe is silently reciting the Bismillah and reminding himself that the Almighty values patience, Nicky turns around. He sizes up the mother – tired-looking, hungry-eyed, apologetically trying to corral the fussy baby and a toddler of about three or four – and smiles gently. “Hello,” he says in English, then glances at her passport and sees that she’s Italian. “Buona sera, signora,” he goes on, not missing a beat. “Hai bisogna di aiuto con qualcosa?”

The tired mother starts, her eyes welling with tears. Joe’s willing to bet that nobody has offered to help her for this entire trip, and has to smile softly to himself that of course Nicky has swooped out of the Maltese night like, well, a knight, her countryman in a time of crisis, to do exactly that. Joe is already feeling better just to watch Nicky be Nicky, as his lover takes hold of the baby, joggles him on his hip and tells him that he’s a handsome fellow and to stop screaming and to give his mama a break, as the mother tends to her toddler, gets herself sorted out, and thanks Nicky profusely in what sounds like Calabrian. Joe’s mostly able to pick out the specific regional accents, and he guesses that this woman is a migrant, one of the workers who travel around Europe in the growing season to pick fruit and vegetables in hot fields under hard bosses who only pay in cash and owe a cut to the Mafia. He takes out his wallet and quietly offers her all the Maltese lira they changed for back in France, and she shakes her head and tries to refuse. He insists – she looks somewhat surprised that he speaks Italian too, but not unduly – and while she won’t take it all, they manage to give her back her baby, some money, and reach the front of the line without actually noticing the rest of the wait. Joe hands over a French passport that reads Joseph Jones. Nicky hands over Nicholas Smith. The guard looks at them, asks a few questions in his quavering old-man voice, stamps the visa pages, and once more, they’re in.

Outside, Joe and Nicky collect their bags, help the woman to the taxi rank and make sure she’s on her way to wherever she’s staying, then go out to catch the bus. Valletta sparkles in the distance as they draw closer, this magnificent collection of fortresses and gardens and churches, domes and spires, palaces and piazzas, museums and terraces, city walls and citadels, Benjamin Disraeli’s city of palaces for gentlemen. The place was largely built by the Knights Hospitaller after their exile from Rhodes and the Great Siege of Malta in 1565, and Joe and Nicky have watched it transform over the centuries, but it has still managed to retain that unique spark of what they love about it. It is familiar, comforting, lovely. If the world is going to end, no better place to be than here.

The bus stops in downtown, they thank the driver in fluent Maltese, and get off, hauling their bags and suitcases. The December evening is cool and misty, fog floating over the cobblestones like elegant wraiths, the streetlamps casting pools of golden glow that look like doorways to another world. They walk casually hand in hand to a corner store that is about to shut up shop for the evening, buy a quick dinner, and then continue up the street. Somewhat appropriately, they are staying in a rented house near St Sebastian’s Bastion, Is-Sur ta' San Bastjan, on the northeastern tip of the Valletta peninsula near Fort Saint Elmo. They know the elderly owner well, who has left the key in the postbox for them, and they unlock the door, ascend the narrow, creaky stairs to the top-floor garret, and find that a small Christmas tree and a plate of imqaret have been left to welcome them. The windows open out over the city wall and the dark, glittering ocean. It is quiet, at last. Just the two of them.

“Finally,” Joe says. He picks up Nicky’s bags when he puts them down, and carries them into the dark bedroom, switching on the lights. They set down their convenience-store repast and eat, affectionately nudging each other’s knees under the too-small table. They’ll do more shopping tomorrow; they will be here at least until January (assuming, of course, no apocalypse). Joe smiles at Nicky, happy to be here, happy to be with him, happy to be sharing this small and unremarkable meal with a soft rain pattering on the steep slanted roof. When they’ve finished and tidied up, Joe murmurs, “Not too tired, are you?”

Nicky answers with a devilish quirk of his eyebrow, as if to say that of course neither of them were actually planning to go to sleep without celebrating their return appropriately. He wraps his arms around Joe’s waist, and they waltz into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them and drawing the curtains, sinking down on the amply-sized bed and undressing each other with slow and leisurely care. Even after a thousand, a hundred thousand times, it never fails to thrill. Their mouths meet in the dimness, their hands trace the well-loved lines of the other’s body, the faint scars and lines that never go away even through all the regenerations, the secret places, the curve of lips, the plane of shoulders and spines, the tensed tightness low on stomachs, the bend of a knee or the bone of an ankle. Joe pushes Nicky down beneath him, and Nicky arches his back, wrapping his legs around Joe’s waist. In quiet and tender and timeless communion, they find their way back home again, in each other and with each other, in touches and kisses and slow thrusts turning faster, and finally, sated, they sleep.

They wake in the morning with slants of winter sunlight filling the room, the high white ceilings, the gauzy curtains fluttering in the constant draft that they’ve never found, the way they’ve woken up in this room since they first met the owner in 1973, and which makes Joe think poignantly, as he always does for just an instant, of their lost home in Constantinople. They get up and dress, then leave the house in search of breakfast. The stone of the streets is pink and amber and gold and fawn, and the light has that particular early-morning quality where it seems to shine through sheets of bleached linen. The city is already awake and bustling, and Joe and Nicky make their way to their favorite café. They can sit overlooking the water and eat as much pastry and drink as much coffee as they like, and they make a good several hours of it. The sun comes up over the street, the palm trees rustle in the breeze, and a few tourists wander by with fancy Nikons around their necks, looking lost. One asks in English if they know where the Grandmaster’s Palace is, and Nicky is happy to point them in the right direction.

“You know,” he says, when they have finally finished breakfast and are wandering happily through the baroque streets, hands and shoulders brushing, “it’s 1999. This is our nine-hundredth anniversary, strictly speaking.”

Joe raises an eyebrow at him. “More like our eight hundredth,” he says playfully. “If we’re going from when we actually figured anything out.”

Nicky shrugs, grinning sheepishly, even as both of them fall contemplatively silent. 1099 is a long, long time ago by anybody’s measure. Joe thinks of himself, kneeling in prayer in the Tower of David, the dread whispers that the Franks were coming, the way he can remember parts and pieces and that first death bright as flame, but the rest of it has faded into the soft greyness of endlessly passing time. They did go to Jerusalem earlier this year, in July, since it seemed like the thing to do; there were a lot of First Crusade remembrances going on, some of which they wanted to be associated with and some of which they didn’t. There was a tweed-jacketed history professor who was deeply appreciative of the detailed account that Nicky was able to give on the breach of Jerusalem’s walls (he asked if he had published any articles on the subject, Nicky said hastily that he was just an enthusiastic amateur), and then there were some whackjobs who were trying to inflame religious tensions, as usual, and basically acting like it was a good thing that the heretics got what was coming to them. Lots of Americans with placards. Lots of Israeli secret service and bearded guys who were probably covert Hezbollah. Lots of people who all think they know exactly what the crusade’s legacy means, and which Joe and Nicky couldn’t help but regard warily. Everything seems twisted up these days, poised on the brink. That guy named bin Laden whose pals tried to bomb the World Trade Center in 1993, he’s been talking as usual. Death to the Western crusaders. So on and so forth. Thus far, nobody’s really listening outside the Middle East, but when you’ve seen this so many times, it’s harder to ignore.

Joe shakes himself, not wanting to think about this on their long-awaited getaway. They’ve been in Kosovo on and off this year, even if the last thing any of them really wanted was to go back into the Yugoslavian wars, and Andy and Booker are off to enjoy the last few weeks of the twentieth century elsewhere. Someone like Andy, the turn of a millennium is old hat, but even for as long as they’ve lived, this is Joe and Nicky’s first new set of a thousand years. The Year Two Thousand. Sounds appropriately science-fictiony. How, Joe thinks. How on earth did Yusuf al-Kaysani from Cairo end up here.

That, however, is only incidental to his enjoyment of the rest of the day. They walk on the city walls, they go up to the Grand Harbor and take in the sea view, then to the Barrakka Gardens. Nicky gazes pensively on the monument of remembrance and out over the glittering blue water, as Joe sits down on a bench and watches him. He has always simply enjoyed looking at Nicky, watching him breathe, watching him be, watching the way he leans on the railing and shields his eyes against the sun with the casual, unconsciousness elegance that permeates everything he does. Whether the name is Yusuf al-Kaysani or Joseph Jones or anything else, it doesn’t matter. Even among all the change and clutter of the modern world, this adoration, this soul-deep delight, is the one thing that remains constant.

That is how the next several days pass. Joe and Nicky visit their usual old haunts in Valletta, eat well, make love, and catch up with the apartment’s owner, Ġużepp, who is now in his eighties, has known them for over twenty-five years, and never seen them age a day. He has never asked why. His wife died a long time ago and they never had children, and perhaps he sees them as sons, as a strange but poignant blessing for a lonely old man, two people who clearly love this place as much as he does. He asked them once when they first came here, and Joe wondered if they should just tell him that it was the sixteenth century. Somehow it seems as if Ġużepp might not be surprised.

A few days before Christmas, a storm blows in from the Atlantic just as dust blows in from North Africa, and the world turns silver and ocher and rust and wet, the windows sparkling as if stained in silver nitrate and the streets and domes and splendid churches of Valletta painted in watercolor impressionism on the blurry glass, anything or anyone outside the bedroom barely seeming to exist. Joe and Nicky spend the time productively, which is to say they have so much sex that they can barely walk. They twist into each other, explore and challenge and unstring and repair each other, touch and caress, kiss and lick and suck and mark their territory all over again, leaving no inch of flesh unexplored and no sinful act undone. “You know,” Nicky murmurs, eyes closed, smiling, sweat beading on his brow, hand stroking up the line of Joe’s spine as Joe nips at his neck. “We really are a pair of heretics, aren’t we.”

“Speak for yourself, Nicolò.” Joe leans down to steal another kiss from his lover’s bruised, teeth-marked lips. “Heretics according to who?”

Nicky hums, as if to say he is happy to get into a theological argument at a later date, but can’t be arsed to do so right now. Joe slides down next to him, sliding his hand across Nicky’s chest and stomach, curling lower, as Nicky whines and reflexively tries to pull back. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Joe laughs, as he always does, pressing a kiss into Nicky’s shoulder and thinking – as he also always does – Allah and all His angels forbid. He has always secretly, shamefully prayed that if that terrible moment came, if one of them lost their immortality first, that it be him. He knows this condemns Nicky to live on without him, but he cannot face the prospect of doing it himself. Dying for good, even after this long, somehow seems easier. At least he’s done that before, often. Living without the other half of his soul, not so much.

The rain clears on Christmas Day, the light is fragile and golden and perfect as heaven, and they call Andy and Booker (Andy’s somewhere in Argentina, Booker is on a beach in Thailand) and wish each other happy holidays. Nicky mixes up a feast, Joe helps (if by that you mean stirring the occasional pot and taking full advantage of Nicky’s “Kiss the Cook” apron) and they open their door and visit with the neighbors who drop in to bring more pastries and Christmas wishes. Ġużepp turns up, they invite him to stay for supper so he won’t be alone, and after the token protests, he agrees. As he is insisting on doing the washing-up, he asks, “How long have you two known each other?”

Joe and Nicky glance at each other. They’re fairly sure that Ġużepp knows they’re a couple, even if they haven’t said so openly, just in case an old Maltese Roman Catholic would prefer to know it implicitly but not have it confirmed. Finally Nicky says, “A very long time.”

“I thought so, somehow.” The old man reaches for a dish towel. “You seem that way. Have you been happy here? All the times you’ve been to Malta, to my house?”

“We’ve been very happy,” Joe assures him. “This place has been special for – for many years. I am Arabic, Nicky is Italian, it is like it was made just for us.”

Ġużepp smiles. “Your families?” he asks. “They are happy with it?”

Joe thinks of his mother, far off and so very long ago, and how Maryam al-Katibi always wanted him to be a better man. How he forgot about time and its passing, and never saw her again after he left. It remains one of the greatest regrets of his life that she never met Nicolò, as he thinks that they would have liked each other very much. But as far as their family goes now –

“Yes,” he says, thinking of Andy and Booker. “Yes, they are.”

“I am glad,” Ġużepp says stoutly. “It is good for a man not to be alone.”

(It is, and both Joe and Nicky have clung to that, and they don’t know now that this is the last time they will see Ġużepp, as he will die before they return here in 2004 when Malta becomes a member of the EU, but on this sweet, poignant night, as time speeds on its passing, as they both reflect on all those many years, and God said that it was good.)

The last week of 1999 and the twentieth century and the second millennium count down to its inevitable end. There aren’t exactly prophets in sandwich boards shrieking on the streets about the end times, though it’s undeniable that there’s a sharp-edged anxiety as Y2K draws closer. On December 31, Joe and Nicky sit on the beach at the famous Blue Lagoon, watching the sun go down over the island of Comino, holding hands. At last Nicky says – half joking, but only half – “If the world does end tonight, I want you to know that you are still the best thing that ever happened to me. Except for that pastry the other day. That was really very divine.”

Joe laughs, takes his hand to his lips and kisses it. “Always, my heart,” he says. “Always.”

The world gets softer and darker, and lights come on over the bay and the archipelago and the boats bobbing at anchor, and Joe thinks that it must be the year 2000 somewhere else, and everything still seems to be fine. He wasn’t really worried, but he knows that fear that the next year might bring with it something too terrible to be gotten around, and that if you could just cling to this moment now when things are all right, they might stay that way forever. Finally he and Nicky get the water taxi back to Valletta, and it’s getting closer and closer to midnight, and they sit down on a bench and count down with the rest of this sliver of the world, all the way into the next stage of forever.

When it becomes plain that the world has not ended, nor indeed does it seem likely to do so, everywhere seems to let out its breath at once. Huge and glorious fireworks thunder in the dark sky over the city, in riots of color and noise and sound, and Joe and Nicky can hear cheering and toasting from what seems like every house in the city. They kiss and then kiss again for good measure, swept along on a tide of jolly and relieved and mildly (or well, considerably) inebriated strangers, an impromptu street party that both of them feel down to their nine-hundred-and-fifty-year-old sinews, the sort of magic that still catches them dead to rights even after so long in this beautiful, stupid, dangerous, exasperating, maddening, heartbreaking, filthy, glorious, transcendent, irreplaceable world. They throw their arms around each other’s necks and gaze deeply into the other’s eyes, as even all the gaiety and festivity and bacchanal falls into nothing, passing over them like waves. “I love you,” Joe says, as he has said it so many times in all the languages he knows. “Ti amo.”

Nicky smiles that smile that makes the world shine, and spins Joe lightly on the spot, and the next thousand years seem, just then, like the greatest blessing that any man has ever had. “I know.”

#the old guard #the old guard fanfiction #joe x nicky #kaysanova #that time in malta #coffeemakesmeahappybean #ask

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dangerousconnoisseurdonut · 3 years

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Gotham Monster!Verse AU’s?

Alright, but now, you all know that I am obsessed with Gotham AU’s but what I haven’t talked about is my LOVE of the Classic Universal Monsters, and I want to get your opinions on some of these crazy ideas of mine!

Dracula/Vampires: I already have two AU’s lined up with vampires, my Underworld AU/re-write and my Master Vampire Jervis idea so, let’s just move on.

Frankenstein: Victor (do I really have to specify at this point? You all know which one I’m obsessed with) and Bridgit are Strange’s modern day Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein creations and he wants them to mate, but the two can’t seem to stand each other so he hopes co-habitation will force them to get along. One day, however, Bruce comes to get answers about his parents death (or he’s an investigative journalist that gets caught, whichever sounds better) and, instead of outright killing him, they throw him to ‘The Ice Freak and Fire Bride’. Everyone expects to see Bruce get ripped to shreds, frozen and smashed, or just burnt to a crisp, but instead, the pair are most curious about him and attack any who try to take him away from them.

The Mummy: This is one I’m not sure on, just because we’ve had numerous interpretations of the Mummy story (yes, the one with Tom Cruise was trash, but the story idea was still unique). So, let’s try this route; villain of your choice (I’m leaning towards Jerome, Jeremiah, or Jonathan myself) is an ancient Egyptian Prince/Princess who tries to invoke Kek, the Egyptian God of Darkness and Chaos, but is caught before the ritual can be completed and mummified alive. Transport to modern day and the Wayne’s are funding an excavation for the fabled Prince/Princess who Courted Chaos. When they find the tomb, Bruce accidentally gets blood on the sarcophagus and awakens the sleeping prince/princess who is very grateful and wants to make Bruce their consort to rule over the chaos Kek will bring when they successfully bring him about this time.

The Invisible Man: Jonathan (or Jerome just because I can see the crazy little shit enjoying this) invents a concoction that turns him invisible for a few hours which he uses to scare the daylights out of people. Then, one night, Bruce comes upon the scene where a young couple are being mugged and saves them, unaware of his invisible audience. Jonathan tails him to try and understand why he wasn’t afraid of getting hurt and why he would put himself in danger for strangers and tries to psyche him out, but Bruce is quick to realize he’s got an unwanted guest. He fights Jonathan, almost getting the upper hand but he forgot about Jonathan’s chemicals and is sadly knocked out. When he comes too, he is strapped to a bed and Jonathan wants to see just how brave Bruce can be in the face of the unknown.

The Wolfman: Poor, weak, little Jonathan is constantly picked on in high school, and often finds himself being protected from the bullies by his crush, Bruce Wayne. Sick of always needing to be rescued, he wants Bruce to see him as someone strong enough to stand beside him, not behind him. While asking his dad for advice, Gerald has to leave suddenly and leaves an untested serum out where it shouldn’t be. It’s meant to make people better by giving them certain attributes of wolves; their speed, strength, sense of smell and hearing, lightness of feet, everything Jonathan needs for Bruce to really see him. After he takes the serum, people are shocked by how different Jonathan becomes, including less fearful and more aggressive. Soon, however, there are news reports of the bullies of the school being attacked by some rabid dogs, alive but almost torn to pieces. Not to mention Jonathan has started asking Bruce on dates and can be a little... aggressive when kissing. After all, all wolves need a mate.

The Phantom of the Opera: Jervis is the Phantom who loves a stagehand, Jonathan Crane, who loves Theodora Galavan's (Galavan as a woman, *shudders*; I think I just gave myself a case of the heebie jeebies) understudy, Bryce Wayne, a beautiful singer and dancer who sadly has not had the chance to shine yet. Jervis strikes a deal with Jonathan; if he helps Bryce become the star, Jonathan will allow Jervis to have sex with him. Jonathan is so in love with Bryce, and more than a little intrigued by what the Phantom has in store to make Theodora (who’s a real bitch to everyone) leave, that he agrees. As Bryce rises, and Jonathan actually does start to fall in love with Jervis, Jervis himself falls for Bryce's charm and beauty too and decides, why not have his cake and eat it too? Jervis proposes the idea to Jonathan who loves it as he too would get the best of both worlds and wouldn’t have to worry about Bryce being chewed up and spat out by a fickle audience. Jonathan gives her a sleeping draft and they manage to transfer her to 'Underland' where Jervis and Jonathan set about convincing the young Opera Star she'll only get hurt up there, so why not stay with them?

Creature from the Black Lagoon: My personal favourite of the Classic Monsters, so who better than my favourite Rogue for this one? Bryce is part of an expedition to find remains of a fossil that could prove some sort of link between marine life and land life in the arctic region. While there, she is spotted by a creature that is half man/half octopus (our own Mr. Freeze), who decides she would make a very pretty mate and kidnaps her, taking her to his underground spot that has a dry spot where she can rest. Unable to hold her breath long enough to escape on her own, and knowing the search parties probably think she drowned, Bryce is very limited in options, particularly when Victor offers her a potion that will let her breathe under water where she won’t feel the cold as strongly. Bryce agrees to take it, hoping to get back to her party, but Victor was ready for any kind of tricks and manages to freeze her arms and legs, where he then proceeds to show her how... talented, his tentacles are.

I also have one or two for nature spirit Ivy and one featuring a plot similar to a movie from the early 2000s called Mermaid Chronicles: She Creature, but this is long enough.

#gotham #classic monsters #prompts #bruce wayne #batman's Rogues

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quartzcraft-mc · 3 years

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A Tale of Foxblossom

[Word Count - 1637]

For our Pride Month Competition, we hosted a few compeitions including an Writing Competition! Thunderbird25 was voted for 1st place with their amazing piece called ‘A Tale of Foxblossom’. Thunder wrote a lovely story including some of the other player’s OC’s within the story as well as their own, depicting a normal day on the server!

VVV Read Below!!! VVV

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She stared at the map in her hands. Then squinted. Pressing her face to the worn paper, she mentally calculated how far it was from here, in Foxblossom, to the railway line west of her current spot.

It was maybe a thousand blocks? But the ground wasn't totally flat- she'd walked the distance and left her both winded and wet, having crossed through a swamp and back- If she went as the crow flies- no, should she? That would mean digging a tunnel, and who knew how long that would take.

This was making her brain hurt, but that might have been the eye strain.

With a deep sigh, she picked up her diamond shovel. Fully enchanted - of course, it was her – but it had several thin cracks running through the wood handle and extended underneath the blade. She should make a new one; this would break soon. Future her problem!

She had a plan. She would mark out a road five blocks wide and dig in a straight line until she met the railway.

This was going to take forever.

Thunder wasn’t entirely sure why she'd decided to dig a road about a thousand blocks long, only that she'd woken up one day and had had nothing to do. She… didn't like to stay still. Better to be productive, to do things with her mind and hands. It kept her occupied, kept her from fretting, from worrying. Of course, it helped to have a schedule.

Not that she didn’t have lots to do- she had her shop at the mall to stock, resources to gather, the Lorebary to manage –

But she was just so tired. Her sleep had been abysmal recently, filled with nightmares and strange images. Sometimes it was of her home, going up in flames. Other times, it was of the End, looking into a memory of the people there- those dreams, she suspected, may actually be real. On the other hand, maybe it was her magic reacting to the magic in her elytra. But, of course, who knew if it was real or not? Regardless, she was feeling a bit crummy and needed to just go. Do something mindnumbing and repetitive. It had helped when she first went to the swamp. Maybe it would help now? Tire herself out enough that she could actually sleep for once?

The logistics were a little tricky- but she figured she could dig a small initial tunnel then widen it later. Getting up at the crack of dawn was a bit of a struggle – it was bloody freezing, her breath misting and turning to ice as she breathed. She could see Annika at her farm, taking her animals out to graze – the small figure whistled and gave a brief wave as she turned back to her cows. Thunder smiled, giving a wave back before she trudged towards the town centre.

Her boots crunched on the dirt and gravel path, loud and intrusive in the early morning. It felt like she was disturbing the stillness that hung in the air, like she was the only one here, awake. There was no breeze – thankfully since the temperature was certainly cold enough! The land was asleep. She wasn't entirely sure why she'd chosen to come to such a cold place – it was a far cry from her homeland and the Nether, places made of fire, of heat, of never-ending summers. Winters were considered a distant dream, a fantasy in the relentless land of sweat and discomfort and danger. She still remembered her first bushfire – on the outskirts of her city, the smoke staining the sky black with ash falling from the sky like snow. It was terrifying, the thousand block fire-front creeping ever closer; would they lose their homes like the other towns? It had lasted a good week, with casualties and refugees streaming in from the surrounding cities; lives had been spared, homes lost.

It was a stray storm, traveling south from the battered northern regions, that turned the tide.

Smoke had hung in the air for weeks afterward; it was in her hair, her clothes. Soon, it was considered odd to not smell smoke; fires were commonplace. But here? The cold felt like it gripped the land in a lover's embrace, a different kind of danger. One that she wasn't used to.

She had reached the edge of the town center, her mind running away from her. Focus, now. Yes, her self-appointed task. She tended to use whatever supplies she had on hand - birch and oak planks, gathered by herself, with extra bought from the mall. She figured she’d work as she went, but this would take a while. The road would start next to the town map and visitor’s log- cutting directly west, through the birch and oak forest, the swamp, and the spruce forest.

Shoveling out the dirt was easy, under the effects of the nearby beacon and her enchanted shovel. She just needed to shore up the sides as she went- cobble worked well enough, and enough was lying around. The stone was tricker- her enchanted pickaxe still made short work of the stone, carving deep gashes in the earth before being scraped away- but it was backbreaking work, and she quickly tired. Falling into a routine was easy- it was similar to carving out her swamp base, both relaxing and mind-numbing at the same time.

She'd dug out the first stretch of the tunnel, taking a few days. It was maybe a third of the way. She'd just finished putting up the torches - she'd dealt with enough mobs with her recent adventures, she just wanted a break!- when footsteps echoed down the rough tunnel. A soft purple gleam in the darkness caught her eye when she turned, and the footsteps got closer-

“Thunder! Wow, this is a long tunnel. How long have you been building it for?" Marina's cheerful voice echoed off the tunnel walls, bouncing and amplifying. She grinned, wearing enchanted netherite and carrying a complete set of enchanted netherite tools - Thunder's own tools were looking a tad shabby at the moment.

Thunder paused, standing up to stretch and rest her arms for the moment. They hurt, aching fiercely, with nicks and scratches from where she'd been hit by flying debris and her own occasional clumsiness. Then, scratching the back of her head, she shrugged with a smile. "What day is it?"

“Sunday.”

"Day three, then." The other woman blinked. “Woooow, that’s a while. Are you going to the railway?”

"Yeah, I figured it might be handy to have a railway connecting Foxblossom to the track. Didn't think it would take this long though," Thunder laughed, sheepish. She shrugged. "I still need to put down a proper path, though. I was planning on using oak wood and birch."

“Oh, okay! Would you like some help, nya?” Marina tilted her head to the side, swirling her pickaxe.

Thunder blinked. She was offering to help dig the rest of the way? It was still over five hundred blocks. “I… wouldn’t say no?”

"Nya, of course, dear! What do you need me to do?"

She was too kind. Showing Marina, the tunnel's dimensions was easy. Then the woman set off, digging with a single-minded focus that was honestly impressive. Thunder had finished placing the wood path down for the first section, and turning back to the next chunk of the track, she found-

A massive tunnel, carved through the nearby hill, sunlight filtering through to the other side of the tunnel. It glinted off the swamp water and Marina's armour, catching her eye. The other woman was already constructing a path across the water out of stone and brick. It looked strong enough to support a rudimentary path and would work well enough. There was idle chatter as they worked to build the bridge across, the sun making its slow march across the sky. Thunder only noticed when she stood up to stretch and wipe her forehead on her sleeve. It was hard work, and her armour was being safely stored within her inventory. A vast array of colours were splashed across the sky, the sun painting the clouds a mix of orange, pink and purple hues.

It was- it was beautiful. The light filtered through the spindly leaves of the spruce trees, casting soft, growing shadows across the ground, dancing in the water near them. Clouds were painted varying shades of pink, ringed by bright, golden light. Water lapped softly against the edge of the bridge, the wind slowly picking up. Thunder placed her pickaxe on the wood next to her, swinging her legs over the side. The water was cold, almost shockingly so against her bare feet, and the night was slowly encroaching on them. She could just hear the call of a phantom starting to prowl the sky and the low, baritone moan of a zombie. The gurgle of a drowned and the skittering of a nearby spider. Danger, reasons to go home.

Marina plonked down next to her, giving her a smile, turning to watch the sunset. Fierce, burning happiness sparked through her, from her freezing toes to her stomach, to her heart and head. Things might be a bit messy and may not be okay, but she was so fucking glad to be here. To be tired after a long day's work, with a friend next to her, enjoying one of the best sunsets she'd seen in a long time. Once the sun had set, the sky a deep, indigo purple, she'd stood up, offering Marina a hand. They'd made their way back to town, parting ways with a soft goodbye. It seemed… wrong, almost, to disturb this strange feeling of peace.

It would take a few days of work to finish the road. But she slept easier that night.

#minecraft #minecraft server #lgbt minecraft #pride month competition 2021 #minecraft smp #QCFanart #writing #QCSurvival #story

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spicycreativity · 3 years

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Ticket Crimes - Oneshot

Rating: T Words: 9,752 Characters: All Category: Gen Summary: To welcome his new crew members about the USS Foley, Starfleet Captain Janus Gaines schedules shore leave on the pleasure planet of Ya'Lotus. Janus and Virgil run into an old acquaintance who seems to have ulterior motives; Roman and Remus attempt to infiltrate a drug trafficking ring; Patton and Logan narrowly avoid death on a history tour. Content Warnings: Mild violence/violent intent, alcohol use/mild intoxication, guns and phasers (no shots fired), mentions of drugs and drug trafficking (no drug use depicted) Note: You do not need to be familiar with Star trek to read this. In fact, it's probably better that you're not, because I took a LOT of liberties with canon

Doctor Patton Kelsey's boot heels clicked along the metal floor of the USS Foley as he made his way out of Sickbay. Despite the corridors' unusual emptiness, he kept to the right side out of habit, dragging his fingers along the wall as he went. He counted the doors, mouthing the numbers to help him keep track, until he came across the door he was looking for.

There was nothing usual about Ensign Virgil Salem's door except for the fact that it rarely ever opened. Virgil emerged for his shifts and for scheduled meals and made himself scarce the rest of the time.

Patton had studied Virgil's chart extensively but found no psychological defect that would render him unfit to serve in Starfleet. Surmising that Virgil was shy, Patton privately declared himself responsible for looking after the young recruit. The fact that they had joined the crew at the same time only served to strengthen this notion.

Patton raised his fist and knocked gently on the door, knowing full well that Virgil was inside. "Ensign Salem?" No response. "Virgil? Kiddo? Our group is about ready to beam down."

"Do I really have to go to that?" Virgil asked, his voice muffled behind the door.

"You don't want to?" Patton asked. "It's a party for us!"

"I would have been fine with a bottle of Saurian brandy, but nobody bothered to ask for my opinion, did they?"

Patton smiled a little and leaned against the doorframe. "Look, kiddo, you'd better just come with me before Captain Gaines calls you over the intercom."

"Shore leave is supposed to be optional," Virgil shot back, but Patton could tell that his resolve was slipping away. Virgil took a while to warm up to things, but he could usually be convinced.

"Not when the whole reason we're here is to celebrate you!"

"And you," Virgil said, and he was much closer to the door now.

Patton stepped back and waited for the door to slide open. It did a moment later, and Virgil appeared still tugging on his gold tunic over the standard issue black undershirt. His dark brown hair, slightly longer than regulation permitted, stuck up in the back where he had been resting his head against his pillows. Patton absentmindedly smoothed it down, though he managed not to lick his hand to do so.

Virgil let him lead him down the hall toward the Transporter Room. "You know I'm not actually your kid, right?"

"But we look so much alike!" Patton smiled sunnily at him. Patton was sturdy and soft where Virgil was rail-thin, and his honey blonde hair and blue eyes contrasted with Virgil's own dark hair and darker eyes.

"Sure, pops." Virgil shook his head, but there was a fondness to it. "I look like your shadow."

He stuttered his steps as they approached the Transporter Room so Patton would enter before him. Virgil respected Captain Janus Gaines, but he was also keenly aware of their difference in rank whenever they shared space. While Captain Gaines played fast and loose with regulations and encouraged his crew to do the same, Virgil never forgot what those regulations were. They had been drilled into his head at the Academy and haunted him like a ghost no matter how casually the Captain treated him.

"Took you long enough," Janus drawled. "I was starting to think you'd gotten lost."

"That was one time," Virgil said before he could stop himself. Not that it mattered; Janus had only ever been amused by Virgil's backtalk.

The rest of the party to beam down were milling about like guests at a mixer, largely ignoring Virgil and Patton. Janus stood out among them not only for his nonchalance, but for his unusual appearance. He made no secret of rejecting his half-Vulcan heritage and regularly spirited away Lieutenant Commander Remus Aime to help him bleach his hair and eyebrows. This resulted in unhealthy-looking white-blond hair and stark black roots. To make up for this transgression, he kept his hair at an acceptable regulation length, one that revealed his mismatched ears. The left was pointed exactly as a Vulcan's ears would be, but the right was rounded like a human's. Contributing to the asymmetry were his mismatched eyes: the left was a piercing blue while the right was warm and brown.

"We're ready now!" Patton said. He often focused on the bridge of the Captain's nose to avoid staring openly at him, and he did so now with a sunny but vacant smile gracing his lips.

"Places, everyone," Janus said, cutting off the murmured conversation between the remaining party members.

They all stepped onto the platforms, Virgil with his stomach turning with nerves, Patton staring dead ahead, still smiling.

It was over in a blink.

Janus stepped forward, turning around so he could address his party. "Gentlemen," he said, raising his arms for maximum melodrama, "welcome to Ya'Lotus."

"Uh, yeah, so what is this place?" Virgil asked, stepping off his platform.

He was interrupted by Lieutenant Roman Aime, who had made no secret of his disregard for Virgil since day one. "Weren't you paying attention the first two times we explained it to you?"

Janus rolled his eyes, annoyed at having lost control of the conversation, but made no attempt to regain it. "Logan?"

The android nodded at him, stepping forward and edging Roman out of Virgil's space. "Lotus Island, located on the planet of Ya'Lotus, is a popular shore leave destination due to its vast array of amenities and unique ticket-based economy."

Virgil, who had not been paying attention in the slightest the first two times this was explained to him, frowned. "Ticket-based?"

"Like Earth money," Remus Aime interjected.

"Yeah, yeah," said Roman.

"Ooh, like the county fair!" Patton said.

Virgil wheeled around to face him. "Is that an Earth thing? I'm from Alpha Proxima II."

"Well," said Janus, regaining everyone's attention by clapping his hands once. "Thank you, Ensign Salem, for that fascinating little jaunt into your personal history. But seeing as we're here to have fun, why don't you just stick close to me until you figure everything out, hm?"

"Yes, sir," Virgil said, squinting at Janus. He, like many others, was never sure where he stood with the half-Vulcan, and was unsure what to make of him because of it.

"Joy," said Janus. Addressing the rest of the landing party, he said, "Virgil and I are off to the Tier III Lounge. Is anyone else coming?"

"Logan said he wanted to do the self-guided history tour," said Patton, nudging the android in the ribs.

Logan nodded, causing his ash blond hair to dance along the line of his jaw. His gray eyes differed from organic beings' only in that they reflected no light, and he turned this unsettling gaze upon Patton, who tried not to flinch. "That is correct."

"An island full of debauchery and you're going on a history tour?" Remus demanded, grabbing a fistful of Patton's shirt. Despite the height disparity (Patton being the tallest member of the party and Remus being the shortest), Patton bit his lip and leaned back as much as the young Romulan's grip allowed. With his extravagant face tattoos and devilish bearing, Lieutenant Commander Remus Aime was no stranger to getting his way through intimidation tactics.

"You get free salt water taffy," Patton said, glancing around to see who might assist him.

It was Remus' twin brother who came to his aid, yanking Remus back by the hair. "Knock it off."

"I am your superior officer!" Remus said, releasing Patton and turning to face his brother.

"Oh, I do apologize, Lieutenant Commander Hair Dye," Roman said. To Janus, who was toying with his bleached locks with an exaggerated carefree expression, Roman said, "We'll go with you."

"No way!" Remus said, freeing dark hair from his brother's grasp. "I don't want to go to some stuffy lounge."

"We'll find our own fun on the way," Roman said.

"Again with the melodrama." Janus sighed and looked over at Virgil, who was slouching with his hands jammed in his pockets. "Follow me. If we lose them, we lose them."

Janus turned on his heel, an impressive feat given he was supplementing his already substantial height with three-inch heels, and left the receiving Transporter Room with Virgil in tow. Always loath to be left out, Roman followed suit, trailing Remus, Patton, and Logan behind him.

The first stop was a massive receiving terminal where they were all made to spin a wheel to receive their first round of tickets.

"How, exactly, does this work?" Virgil asked, folding his tickets into a small stack.

"If you really cared to know, you should have paid attention the first two times Logan explained it to you," Janus said, stuffing his own tickets up his sleeve like an Earth magician. "You're more than welcome to join him and Doctor Kelsey on the history tour if you think that would be a better way to spend your time than a high-end liquor tasting."

"You know," Virgil said, "I think I'll stick with you."

"That's what I thought."

A fair distance behind them trailed the Romulan twins Vrih and Vaebri i-Elehu tr'Aime, better known but their preferred names. Given that they hailed from a particularly superstitious region of the planet Romulus, the twins had dubbed themselves "Roman" and "Remus'' respectively to avoid the bad luck of giving away their full names.

"Captain Quick Step is trying to ditch us," complained Remus, his boot heels clicking against the concrete. Patton and Logan had already peeled off, leaving the brothers to tag along after Janus and Virgil on their own.

"Don't let him," Roman urged, nudging Remus to hurry up.

Lotus Island was a hectic place, bustling with all races of aliens. Music rang out loud over strategically-placed speakers and workers called out for the crowd to try their luck at a variety of carnival games from multiple cultures. Sequestered away in gravity-defying skyscrapers were gambling halls, and further inland towered the tracks of massive roller coasters.

Remus dodged an inebriated Orion and nearly tripped, grabbing onto Roman's tunic to stay upright. "He's dodging and weaving, that bastard!"

"You shouldn't have worn heels," Roman chided, grabbing Remus by the wrist and yanking him forward.

"You're wearing heels, too."

"But I can actually walk in them."

Far ahead of them and gaining ground, Janus was employing Earth-based power walking techniques. Virgil stuck close behind him at a jog, toying with his tickets, privately amazed at the unfamiliar sensation of actual paper between his fingers.

Virgil, despite his rigorous Academy training, was somewhat out of breath. Janus was not, and even if he was, would not have allowed Virgil to see him gasping for breath. He had determined long ago to take the best of his Vulcan heritage and the best of his human heritage, suppressing his weak points far beneath the surface where no one could ever see them. Despite his fondness for Remus, Janus Gaines was simply not a man who allowed himself emotional attachments and weaknesses, and this had very little to do with his early childhood training on Vulcan.

"Any particular reason you're running me like a racehorse?" Virgil asked.

"Like you've ever seen a racehorse," Janus replied.

"Okay, don't answer the question."

Despite their rapid pace, Janus managed to turn and leer at Virgil, micro-expressing as only a Vulcan could. "Because it's funny."

Virgil didn't see what was so funny about ditching crewmates, but (wisely) kept that to himself. "Why don't we catch a lift, then?" He gestured to one of the many ride services available, surreys and bicycles, rickshaws and moving sidewalks.

"We're almost there," Janus said, motioning to a blue-black building ahead of them. The rounded windows were blacked out, leaving Virgil to wonder at what was inside.

It was a regular lounge, as he soon found out, quiet and upscale. The interior was dark and just a touch too cool for Virgil and Janus' liking. Virgil crossed his arms as he followed Janus to the bar, but was soon distracted by a familiar hissing and clicking from the corner. "Is that a pinball machine?"

Janus looked at him like he'd just said something phenomenally stupid, mostly to hide the fact that he had only a vague idea of what a pinball machine was. "You can worry about that or you can let me buy you a drink."

"Fine," said Virgil, who had yet to master the subtle and esoteric art of decoding Janus' communication style. He clambered onto a barstool and picked at the piping on his sleeves that denoted his rank while Janus ordered something that the universal translator couldn't translate into English.

The sensation of eyes on him made Virgil shudder. He ran a hand through his unruly hair and glanced down the bar only to make eye contact with a pair of green eyes. They belonged to a Vulcan Virgil had never seen before. Unsure of what to do, Virgil froze, leaving the Vulcan to break the eye contact. He looked Janus up and down, then up again, his gaze lingering on his bleached hair.

"Dude," said Virgil, once he had recovered from the off-putting sensation of having been cased and rejected, "I think that guy likes you."

Janus leaned forward and peered down the bar before pulling back in an attempt to hide behind Virgil. "Shit."

Then came the voice, bassy, yet undeniably Vulcan in its even monotone. "Chu'lak? I thought that was you."

"Fuck," said Janus, already smiling, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He slipped off the barstool and landed cleanly on his toes so the click of his heels didn't disturb the lounge's quietude. "Sihok."

Sihok saluted both Janus and Virgil, though his attention was mostly on Janus. "Scheduled shore leave?"

"A welcome party," Janus said, holding out his hand for a shake.

Sihok eyed it with what Virgil regarded incorrectly as apathy and Janus recognized as disgust and a trace of amusement. After a fraction of a section of hesitation, he shook Janus' hand. "And this is the new recruit?" he asked, indicating Virgil with a small nod.

"Ensign Virgil Salem," Janus said.

Virgil, who had been trained in cross-cultural contact, gave the proper Vulcan salute with a trembling hand. Despite being unable to decipher Sihok's body language, he could sense the tension between Sihok and Janus as keenly as he could the difference between scotch and bourbon. Somewhere behind them, Virgil registered the click of their drinks being set down.

"Ensign Salem," said Sihok. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Virgil said, trying not to fidget.

"It is gratifying to know that you've held on to your manners despite your proximity to Chu'lak and his… half-measures."

Virgil's eyes went wide and he quickly averted his gaze. But to Virgil's surprise, Janus, rather than dressing Sihok down, gave a cold chuckle and put a hand on Virgil's shoulder. "It's Janus. Captain Janus Gaines."

"You always did have trouble conforming," Sihok said.

"Yes," said Janus, "Mathematically speaking, I thought I would go for half acceptance. How do I measure up?"

Seeing that his companions were otherwise occupied in their strange battle of insults, Virgil rotated slightly to retrieve his drink from the bar behind him. He had a feeling he was going to need it if Sihok stuck around for much longer.

Sihok lifted one eyebrow ever so slightly. "They call you The Mad Vulcan."

"Well, now you have my attention." Janus turned and retrieved his own drink. "Shall we get a booth?" He knew perfectly well that Sihok was getting at something, and the mystery of the subject matter had him more curious than he would care to admit. He was reasonably sure he had managed to hide this from Sihok, having expressed anger and amusement as a sort of misdirection.

Virgil said, "Is this a worm?" He held his drink up to the light, examining the fizzing red liquid within to try to get a better look at the thing floating in it. "Like mezcal?" From the look Janus gave him, he judged that the universal translator hadn't been able to find a good Vulcan equivalent of the word. "Never mind. Booth?"

"But first." Janus held up his glass for Virgil to toast. "Congratulations, Ensign Salem. Welcome to the Foley."

"I didn't want to go to that stupid lounge, anyway," Remus said, crossing his arms. In a fit of pique, he grabbed Roman's braid, which ended just shy of his lower back, and gave it a yank.

"Oh, don't pick a fight with me just because you're grumpy," Roman said, flicking Remus' temple. "There's a million other things to do; I'm sure we can find something more fun than stalking the Captain and the new kid."

"Drugs?" said Remus, brightening considerably.

"I meant like a roller coaster or something, but if you want to go find an upper, I guess that's--"

"Let's go!" Remus started walking away.

"Seriously?" Roman said. "I was kidding! An island full of stuff to do and you want to get high?"

"Re-lax, Vrih. Janus will have a fit if I bring drugs onto the Foley, inside or outside of me. This is more of a personal challenge." Remus continued on his merry way, weaving behind buildings and sticking to areas so nondescript that Roman would have stayed away from them out of pure instinct.

"C'mon, Vaebri, I'm sure the heavily-regulated pleasure planet doesn't have a scary criminal underbelly for you to infiltrate. We're wasting time."

"We're almost there," said Remus.

"What do you mean we're almost there? Almost where? You've never even been here before."

"Do you ever shut up?"

Roman crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, but continued to follow Remus as he strode away from everything that made Lotus Island appealing. They ventured past a few 'Keep Out' signs written in Federation Standard and Vulcan into a gray jungle of humming machinery all locked inside tamper-resistant metal cages. Remus darted up to one particular machine and wasted no time jamming his face up against the grating.

"I'm gonna leave," Roman threatened, his arms still tightly crossed over his chest.

Remus was only half-listening, having just uncovered something he found far more interesting than gambling or thrill rides. "This powers an elevator!"

"Ooh," said Roman, barely giving the gray machinery a glance, "an elevator. Not like the Foley has turbolifts or anything."

"Someone wasn't paying attention to Logan's little spiel."

"Uh, yeah, Ensign Salem."

"No, no. You know what's under the island?"

"Water?"

Remus rolled his eyes and gave Roman's braid another tug. "You've been spending too much time with the Captain.

"Will you knock that off?" Roman demanded, kicking Remus in the shin.

"It's the staff's living quarters!" Remus said, growing bored with the argument.

"Oh," said Roman. "So we're definitely sneaking down there to take a look around?"

"Way ahead of you," Remus said, already fiddling with the control panel.

Behind them came the distinctive hiss of turbolift doors opening, followed by conversation. Roman and Remus, in a moment of synchronization, both turned on their heels and stood at attention. As Romulan twins, they were both fully aware of the attention they tended to attract once strangers figured out they weren't Vulcans. But the pair of humans, both wearing hot pink uniforms denoting them as staff members of Ya'Lotus, didn't so much as glance up as they carried on toward the Midway.

The twins exchanged a glance, then Remus dived for the closing doors with Roman hot on his tail.

"Nice," said Roman, already examining the panel of buttons.

Remus pressed one at random and the elevator began to drop, taking them far beneath the surface of Lotus Island. When the doors opened again, the twins were met with the sight of pale blue walls and concrete floors. It was eerily silent.

Roman stepped out hesitantly, looking around for any possible passers-by, but there was no one. He motioned for Remus to come out after him. While Remus held the higher rank, arbitrarily bestowed by Janus, Roman was the older (and bossier) twin and had yet to relinquish the sense of authority he had gained from a childhood of leading Remus around Romulus and, later, Decos Prime.

"What language is that?" Remus asked, nodding at the phrases painted on the walls.

Roman studied it for a moment. "Federation Standard. Sickbay is to the left, plus the Medical Staff Break Room. Living Quarters to the right."

"Break room," said Remus, already heading toward it. Roman fell into step beside him, so perfectly synchronized that the click of their heels on the concrete sounded like that of only one person. It was a trick they had perfected in childhood that had served them well in previous instances of trespassing.

"It's kinda freaky down here," Roman muttered. "Where is everybody?"

Remus shrugged. "Sleeping? Working?" He wasn't too bothered. Remus was of the mind that getting caught was half the fun of misbehaving.

"And what do you want with Sickbay, anyway?" No sooner had the words left Roman's lips did realization click into place. "Are you still on drugs?" he hissed, barely resisting the urge to grab Remus by the shirt and drag him back to the elevator.

"No, I'm not on drugs," Remus whispered back, displaying a picture-perfect shit-eating grin. "That's the problem." Upon spotting the door to the break room, he fell out of step with Roman and lunged forward to peek inside.

Roman was savvy enough to stop walking when he noticed Remus breaking away. He watched, half annoyed and half embracing the inevitable, as Remus froze in the doorway with wide eyes. With his facial tattoos, his unruly hair, and his mustache (which he had to shave before every inspection), Remus did not pass for Vulcan half as well as Roman did, even with his long hair.

Still, Remus straightened and crossed his arms behind his back, falling into a passable impression of Vulcan stoicism. "Good morning."

In the hall, Roman frantically flashed the Vulcan salute, trying to get Remus to notice.

"Officer," said a voice from within.

"Lieutenant Commander," said Remus, wiggling his fingers playfully at Roman behind his back.

"Did he send you?" asked another voice.

Remus' facade fractured for a moment, his lips twitching with excitement. He clenched one hand into a fist and shook it at Roman as much as his current positioning would allow. Roman rolled his eyes, confident now that Remus could see him.

"Yes." Remus had to fight to hold still as he stared down the two Caitians lounging at a table in the center of the room. They both had PADDs and communicators in front of them, both had half-empty mugs of a substance Remus couldn't identify.

One of the Caitians, whose name tag identified her as M'Birr, tilted her head at Remus, pupils going wide. "Shaa. What if he's lying?"

Remus rocked forward onto his toes, and he flashed several nonsense hand gestures at Roman behind his back in excitement. It was time to bring out one of Janus' favorite lines, albeit with less sarcasm than the Captain usually employed. "Vulcans do not lie."

"Yeah," said Shaa, her pupils also wide, "I have heard that. Beside, the Big Guy would have vetted him before sending him to us."

Bored with the waffling, Remus decided to take a risk. He had no way of knowing what or who the Caitians were referring to, or even if there was any mischief afoot. But Remus had a nose for trouble and he could see Roman getting bored in the hall. So he adjusted his posture and fixed M'Birr with his best impression of a calculating Vulcan stare. "I was instructed to obtain a sample of the product."

It was all he could do not to squirm in delight when M'Birr sighed and said, "He could have at least given you a Staff shirt. How am I supposed to sneak a member of Starfleet into Sickbay?"

"Incidentally," said Remus, still wiggling his fingers at Roman, who was pantomiming shock in his peripheral vision, "I wasn't told the name of the product."

"Like it matters," said M'Birr. "They're calling it 'kin.' How much did he tell you to move?"

Before Remus could answer, one of the communicators on the table chirped. "Voight here."

"Shaa."

"Starfleet's onto us."

Shaa side-eyed Remus, who took pains to hold completely still. "How can you be sure?"

"We've got two hitting all the stops on the trail. Not buying. Just looking. They went straight from the Help Desk to the Founder's Statue."

Remus and Roman sighed in tandem, both knowing full well it had to be Patton and Logan making their rounds on the self-guided tour.

"Not with us," Remus mouthed, looking M'Birr in the eye.

She exchanged a glance with Shaa, who shrugged briefly and addressed the communicator again. "What's the plan?"

"Dispatch. We can't let them off the planet."

"On our way." The two Caitians stood and moved toward the doorway where Remus was still standing. "Sorry, Lieutenant Commander, but we've got trouble."

Unable to help himself, Remus said, "You're just gonna leave me down here?"

"I'd think a Vulcan would know better than to cause trouble," M'Birr said pointedly. "Excuse me." She pushed past Remus, followed closely by Shaa. "And who's this?"

"Backup," said Roman, trying not to react to the sight of the two cat-like aliens before him.

M'Birr stared at him, calculating, but Shaa nudged her and said softly, "We don't have time for this."

"See yourselves out," said M'Birr. She and Shaa took off for the elevators, leaving Roman and Remus to stand awkwardly until they were out of sight.

"Drugs!" said Remus, stamping his heels on the floor and shimmying. "What did I tell you?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Roman, annoyed despite himself that Remus had gotten his way. "Can we go save our friends from getting murdered now?"

"Sure," said Remus, heading back toward the elevator, "if they haven't already died of boredom yet."

After receiving their specially-programmed PADDs for the self-guided tour (along with two bags of saltwater taffy), Patton and Logan had set off for the first stop on the tour.

"Ooh," said Patton, who was attempting to read, walk, and eat taffy at the same time. "There's trivia."

Logan grabbed him by the shoulder and steered him out of the way of a group of Andorians. "I believe that all the knowledge we gain here today could be referred to as 'trivia,' Doctor Kelsey."

"No, no." Patton shoved a candy wrapper in his pocket so he could use both hands to show Logan the PADD. "There's a trivia contest at the end! We should pay extra close attention."

"Noted," said Logan. "I will make an effort to keep the information in my memory banks."

"Oh, by the way." Patton navigated back to the map of Lotus Island. "You can call me Patton, you know."

"If you're sure," said Logan. "I am aware of the human concept of 'politeness' and did not wish to overstep if you were being polite when you introduced yourself."

"Nope! You really can call me Patton," Patton said cheerfully, holding up the PADD and rotating it, trying to get his bearings. "Where's Virgil when you need him?"

(Virgil was, at the moment, weighing up the benefits of crawling under the table and abandoning Janus and Sihok to their Vulcan mind games)

"Allow me to assist." Logan removed his own borrowed PADD from under his arm. "Next up is the, ah, 'Fun Wheel.'"

"That thing?" Patton asked, pointing to the massive Ferris wheel ahead of them. At their current proximity, the hulking metal contraption dominated the horizon.

"Yes," said Logan, biting back a sarcastic comment. The Captain responded well to sarcasm and Logan's communication style had evolved accordingly, but time and experience had shown that most people found Janus' sarcasm off-putting. And Logan had seen him don the mask of diplomacy, which received much better reception. So Logan decided he would be diplomatic in the hopes that it would make Patton feel at-ease. Logan did not want to be the crewmember responsible for scaring off their new CMO.

They made for the Ferris wheel, Patton still with his nose buried in the PADD. "You get more taffy for correctly answering trivia questions!"

"What could we possibly do with more taffy?" Logan asked.

"Share it with the others!"

They reached the viewing platform of the defunct Fun Wheel and both held up their PADDs to read the description.

What the PADDs did not tell them was that less than 30 guests attended the self-guided tour per Earth year and those guests that did were rarely members of Starfleet. The PADDs had also not been programmed with the knowledge that every single stop on the tour was a tradeoff point for distributors of a new drug known colloquially as 'kin,' as the scientific name was several syllables long, untranslatable from Golic Vulcan, and contained a multitude of niche phonemes.

"Do you smell that?" Logan asked, searching his memory banks for several pieces of data at once.

Patton sniffed and looked around in confusion. "The ocean?" Most of Ya'Lotus consisted of a saltwater ocean that contained no indigenous life. The sea breeze was fresh and cool and smelled, to Patton's human nose, unremarkable.

Logan shook his head. "There is a strong chemical smell emanating from the lower cabin of the Ferris wheel. I believe it may be opioid in nature."

"Opioid?" Patton sniffed and again could only smell rust and sweet ocean air. "You can get all that just from the smell?"

Logan nodded and approached the low metal fence, leaning over it to try to get a closer look at the cabin. It was caged off and covered with a fine mesh that blocked even his keen android eyesight. He cycled through his senses, again landing on smell as his best means of solving the puzzle before him. Beneath the smell of iron and grease, there was a definite tang of something other, something distinctly sedative. He wasn't specialized to identify chemicals like this, and the sensation of answers dancing just out of reach in his databank was enough to elicit an emotional reaction. He looked at Patton and crossed his arms over his chest. "Fuck."

"Whoa!" said Patton, tucking the PADD under his arm. "What's wrong?"

"Forgive me, Doct-- Patton. I am expressing frustration because I would like to know the source of the smell."

Patton leaned in over the guardrail. "Maybe it's just an industrial agent you're smelling? I can't think of any reason why opioid drugs would be anywhere near a Ferris wheel. Not here, anyway. Not on this planet."

"You're right," Logan said. "I will let it go." To emphasize this, he let go of the railing and stepped back. "Are you finished reading?"

"Yeah," said Patton, also backing up. "Let's move on."

And they turned and walked away from the first hidden kin manufacturing still on the tour.

By this point, Janus was fairly sure Sihok was getting at something, though he was circling around the point like a seabird waiting for the kill. It was a tactic Janus could respect, though it was decidedly un-Vulcan. Virgil, meanwhile, signaled for another round of drinks with his fingers. He too had an idea that Sihok was getting at something, and that Janus was as well. While he was admittedly inexperienced with Vulcan body language, he was reasonably sure that Janus hadn't figured it out yet. With boredom and alcohol combining in his mind, Virgil sat back and decided to try to figure it out before Janus did. Sure, he was just an Ensign, but he wasn't stupid.

At the moment, Sihok and Janus (whom Sihok insistently referred to by his Vulcan name, Chu'lak) were talking lightly about their careers.

"I thought," said Janus, drawing one fingertip around the rim of his glass, "you were studying xenobiochemistry."

"I was."

"So how did you end up here of all places?" He gestured to the room at large. Virgil, tracking the movement with his eyes, caught sight of the pinball machine and gazed longingly at it before remembering himself. "As I recall, you had a natural talent for the sciences. If you'll forgive my saying so, working security at a glorified casino seems a bit beneath you."

Sihok's expression did not change that Virgil could see, but he marked that Janus was smirking just a bit.

Sihok nodded. "I discovered in the course of my schooling that xenobiochemistry better suits me as a hobby. And, if you will permit a lapse in logic, I find the the atmosphere of Ya'Lotus most agreeable."

"You dig the vibe," Virgil blurted before he could stop himself. Janus and Sihok both stared at him and before his eyes, the expressions he had mistaken for disapproval read simply as confused. A small spark of triumph ignited in him; he was learning to understand Vulcan mannerisms.

"That didn't translate," Janus said.

"I thought you spoke Federation Standard," Virgil said.

"That was not Federation Standard."

Virgil's cheeks began to burn. "Ah, never mind. You were saying?"

"I think," said Sihok, "there is a certain beauty in mathematics. Do you agree?"

"Sure," said Janus. "But why do I get the feeling that you're not referring to fractals?"

Virgil fished a maraschino cherry out of his drink and began to bat it around the table with his fingertips.

"There is an objective beauty in symmetry," Sihok said vaguely. "No one could argue that. But it's asymmetry that has my interest. Chu'lak, answer a question for me."

"Yes?"

"Where are you staying tonight?"

Virgil stilled, his eyes flicking to Janus. He had no doubt that the question had translated oddly, that Sihok wasn't seriously propositioning Janus. But Janus had been given an opportunity to tease, and even from his limited experience aboard the Foley, Virgil knew that Janus rarely passed up an opportunity to make fun.

"I hadn't decided yet," Janus said with an arch smile, staring at Sihok under his lashes. "The Foley, I suppose, or someplace lavish if I ever make it to the casino."

Virgil resumed playing with the cherry, knowing on some level that he was behaving unprofessionally. He was just drunk enough to not care, the alcohol softening the sharp edges of his anxieties.

"Why?" Sihok asked.

"Why?" Janus repeated.

"You have everything you need on the Foley, don't you? And the free accommodations here are sufficient to sustain life? Why strive for more?"

Janus made no effort to hide his confusion. His patience was wearing thin. He had been intrigued at first by Sihok's vague enterprise, but his insistent refusal to get the point left Janus struggling for diplomacy. "I didn't think you cared for philosophy, Sihok. You've changed."

"Think it over," Sihok said.

The maraschino cherry rolled across the table. Virgil grabbed for it, having flicked it a little harder than intended, but missed, and watched in a hazy mixture of horror and amusement as it rolled off the edge of the table, hit Janus in the knee, and bounced to the floor.

"Sorry," Virgil mumbled, already ducking to grab it. Movement under the table caught his eye; Sihok adjusted his grip on something. Forgetting the cherry, Virgil eyed it curiously. It looked very like the rolls of Lifesavers that Alpha Proxima II would import from Earth, little pieces of culture to keep the colonists connected to their heritage. Virgil had preferred dark chocolate bars and later, coffee and brandy, but his mother had been quite fond of the sharp taste of spearmint Lifesavers. Whatever Sihok had a grip on was wrapped in a translucent white paper that allowed Virgil to see the colorful discs within. Not wanting to linger too long, Virgil resurfaced with the cherry and set it down on a cocktail napkin. "Sorry," he said again.

"Didn't you say you wanted to try the pinball machine?" Janus asked. He was already formulating an exit strategy, but it had never been his intention to hold Virgil hostage. Sihok was taking his time getting to his point, and this was supposed to be a welcome party for Virgil. "Here." He scooted out of the booth and stood.

"Thank you," Virgil said. He walked slowly, listening as Janus apologized and Sihok began to wax philosophical once more about the beauty of asymmetry in mathematics.

A few rounds on the Starfleet-themed pinball machine only left Virgil frustrated and half-sober, overstimulated. He didn't understand why Janus didn't just make an excuse and go. They had both been drawn in by Sihok's vague manner, but Virgil knew that his continued refusal to get to the point must have been driving Janus crazy.

The music changed to something reminiscent of heavy metal, blast beats ringing loud in Virgil's ears. He practically felt in his face: the shredding guitars, the way all the conversations became louder to compensate, the beeps of the pinball machine. Virgil had been declared mentally fit to serve in Starfleet, having proven he could push through bouts of anxiety and even thrive in high-pressure situations. But subjecting himself to the torment of this noisy bar was unpleasant and wholly unnecessary, so he turned and followed signs for the bathroom.

Once inside, he leaned back against one of the cool metal walls, heedless of the potential for infection. He had been vaccinated for just about everything under the sun upon joining Starfleet and he doubted any pathogen on Lotus Island could make it through his defenses.

The door opened and shut and a human stepped in, eyed Virgil up and down. "You look like you could use a chill pill."

It was old vernacular, slang Virgil had picked up at the Academy, because no one on Alpha Proxima II talked like that. He was quiet for a moment, wondering if this stranger was merely using a turn of phrase or if they were, in fact, stupid enough to offer drugs to a member of Starfleet. He decided on the former. "Am I that obvious?"

"You're about to chew a hole in your lip," the stranger said. "Look, you're already bleeding."

Virgil had long grown used to the taste of iron on the tip of his tongue. "It's just a little loud out there."

"I've got meds that can help with that," the stranger said.

Virgil blinked and reassessed: they really were that dumb. "I'm Starfleet," he said incredulously, glancing down at his yellow tunic in case he had somehow taken it off and forgotten about it.

"So what, you're not allowed to cut loose a little? You're on vacation."

Virgil scoffed and let the back of his head rest on the wall, marveling at the audacity of this strange human.

To buy himself time, he walked over to the sink and began to wash his hands. A plan was beginning to form in Virgil's head, neurons firing and making connections. He steeled himself and turned back to the stranger. "How much?"

"So, and just so I'm crystal clear on this," Remus said, stomping along beside Roman with his unstyled mohawk ruffled by the breeze, "our heroic plan to rescue Patton and Logan is to take the guided tour?"

"Oh, shut up." Roman backed away from the Help Desk and shoved the PADD at Remus. "Ugh, I don't understand maps at all. Where's Virgil when you need him?"

(Answer: Making a drug deal in the bathroom of the Tier III Lounge).

Remus studied the PADD. Roman had already set the translation to Romulan, but it was crude and hard to navigate. "Man of metals?" he asked, squinting.

"Oh, nevermind." Roman snatched the PADD back and began to walk. "It's the Founder's Statue. It's made of titanium and platinum. Get it?"

"Well, that's a terrible translation," Remus grumbled.

"Maybe you should learn Federation Standard," Roman nagged. This was far from the first argument they'd had about it and he already knew that Remus would refuse point-blank, masking his frustration and insecurity behind stubbornness. Remus had none of his brother's knack for languages, and while he was a talented engineer, he'd always struggled with his classes far more than Roman had.

"Maybe the Federation should start using Romulan," Remus shot back, and changed the subject before Roman could escalate the argument. "You never answered my question. What's the plan?"

"We need to catch up with either Patton and Logan or, uh… the Caitians."

"Shaa," Remus said with unnecessary smugness, pleased to have something on Roman, "and M'Birr."

"Sure."

They were both out of breath by the time they reached the Founder's Statue, both privately regretting the decision to wear heeled boots. The marginal boost to their height still left them the shortest members of the crew, a fact for which Janus loved to tease them.

"Onward to the next one," Roman said, looking around and seeing no one. He held up the PADD, and Remus peered over his shoulder.

"Rotation wheel," Remus read in Romulan. He looked up at the towering Ferris wheel in the near distance. "Well, that shouldn't be too hard to find."

"It's called a Ferris wheel," Roman complained. "It's a proper noun. Why would they try to translate that?"

Remus paused so he could stamp his foot. "Focus."

"Yeah, yeah." Roman tucked the PADD under his arm.

They caught sight of the two Caitians just after the Ferris wheel and pulled back to avoid being spotted.

"They have guns!" Remus said, a touch too loud even for his own liking. "Real guns! Not phasers!"

"Speaking of…" Roman sighed and touched his hip where his phaser and communicator would sit. Weapons were not allowed anywhere on Ya'Lotus and communication was restricted to their own official channels. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Vulcan nerve pinch?" Remus reached over and grabbed Roman's neck.

Roman stared at him, unamused. "Right, so we'll just try to stay out of a fight. Maybe if we can get around them, we can catch Logan and Patton and, uh… Well, get the Captain, I guess."

"Running off to get Daddy at the first sign of trouble," Remus sighed. "This is why I got promoted and you didn't."

"Yes, that's why. Not because you were the only one stupid enough to risk bleaching the Captain's eyebrows for him."

"Only chemical burned him one time!" Remus said proudly. "Where are we going, by the way?"

"Oh." Roman consulted the PADD. "Banana stand."

"What's a--"

"Walk and talk."

Remus shook Roman's hand off his shoulder. "What's that?"

"It's a kind of Earth fruit. I'm sure they have them here, since the founder of Ya'Lotus was human."

"Boring," said Remus. "Race you!" He took off running, moving awkwardly in his heeled boots. Roman sighed, looked around, and grabbed a tandem bike. It was not the most dignified form of transportation on the island, but it was one he happened to be familiar with. He and Remus both had a bit of a fascination with human history: Remus specializing in weaponry and warfare and Roman preferring to study courtship rituals. He mounted the bike with only a little difficulty, found his balance, and pedaled after Remus

"C'mon, get on."

"Oh!" said Remus happily, not even bothered by the direct order. "It's like a motorcycle with pedals!"

"How have you heard of a motorcycle but not a banana?"

"Will you focus?" Remus flicked Roman's shoulder blade. "You are now officially the Navigator and Helmsman of the Federation vessel Gemini."

"Subtle." Roman would have rolled his eyes, but between trying to steer and keep an eye on the PADD, didn't want to risk it. "What does that make you?"

"The Captain, obviously," Remus said. Roman put his head down as they pedaled by Shaa and M'Birr, but Remus whooped and flashed them a rude hand sign.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" Roman wheezed, a little winded from having to haul both his and Remus' weight. "Fucking pedal!"

"Don't talk to your captain like that," Remus said, giving the pedals a few half-hearted turns.

"Could you at least take this a little seriously? Our crewmates are in danger!"

"Oh," said Remus, kicking his feet out, "guns aren't that dangerous. Not compared to phasers."

Roman just huffed and didn't answer. He steered them to the banana stand without incident and, upon seeing Patton and Logan about to leave, dived off the bike to reach them. Ignoring Remus' annoyed cries behind him, he sprinted over to his wayward crewmates. "Hey!"

"Roman," said Logan, glancing over at Patton in surprise. "You appear to be in distress."

"We gotta get out of here," Roman said in Romulan. Despite the universal translator, he usually switched to Federation Standard out of politeness when speaking with Logan and their human crewmates (though Patton's native language was Welsh), but he was too stressed at the moment to try to switch gears.

Behind him, Remus cursed and examined his left palm, which he had thrown out to break his fall when the bike had tipped. "I'm gonna kill you."

"Kill me later!" Roman shouted back. "We gotta go!" He wrapped his arms around Patton and Logan's waists and started to steer them toward the crowded boardwalk. "Remus!"

"I'm bleeding!" Remus said, scampering to meet them.

"You are?" Patton stopped and turned, ignoring Roman's cursing. "Is it bad?"

"Kiss it better?" Remus asked, batting his lashes.

Roman dragged his hands down his face. "Do you want to get in a gunfight with-- Oh, don't answer that. Of course you do."

"Forgive me, Lieutenant, did you say gunfight?" Logan asked, extricating himself from Roman's slackening grip.

"We don't have time for this!" Roman stamped his foot to try to get Remus' attention, but he was too busy playing up his injury for Patton. He only had a few minor scrapes across his palm, a few dots of green blood here and there.

"Roman, I must insist that you explain," Logan said. "I understand that you are agitated, but if you simply explain the situation, I'm sure we can--"

"We don't have time!" Roman interrupted. "Is it not enough to know that we're in danger?" He turned to his brother, desperation shining in his eyes. "Back me up on this."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you tried to murder your superior officer," Remus said as Patton continued to pick bits of gravel out of his palm.

Along the path, Roman caught sight of the Caitians. Their pace was quick but not frantic as they scanned the horizon for their target, hands on their guns. Roman whispered an untranslatable swear word and made a decision.

Abandoning his crewmates, he straightened, crossed his arms behind his back, and strode forward to meet M'Birr and Shaa.

"Greetings" he said, trying not to let his voice tremble.

"You again?" said Shaa, crossing her arms. "Where's your partner?"

Roman swallowed. "After some discussion, we agreed it would be logical to interfere on your behalf."

"How so?" M'Birr asked. She frowned at Roman, her eyes scanning him.

"We acted under the belief that Starfleet officers would be more likely to trust other Starfleet officers. As you can see, we were correct. We have gained their trust and ascertained that they are not aware of the operation." Shaa tilted her head, and Roman felt compelled to add, "Vulcans do not lie."

"If you're really Vulcans," M'Birr said, still eyeing him with wide-pupiled green eyes. "And not, say, Romulans."

Roman forced his face to remain impassive. "That is an easy mistake to make, particularly if one is not familiar--"

"Oh, shut up." M'Birr drew her gun. "We can take care of all four of you."

Roman's pulse and breathing quickened, his vision narrowing to a very small spot, centering on the matte black of M'Birr's handgun. It was bulkier than a phaser and, he reminded himself, less deadly. He stared at the barrel, mind formulating and discarding half-formed plans for escape. Regardless of what Remus had said, he really didn't want to get shot.

What Roman did not see in his narrow-minded panic, was Remus abandoning Patton and flanking his brother and his assailants. He also did not see Patton flanking the other side, nor did he notice Logan appropriating a golf cart from a confused family of humans.

Remus flew into Roman's field of vision and tackled M'Birr, followed shortly by Patton who dropped Shaa with a sweeping kick to the knees. Adrenaline kicked in and Roman grabbed Remus by the wrist and hauled him up, spotted the golf cart, and dived for it. Patton beat them there and swung around to the passenger seat.

"Go, go, go!" they all shrieked, and Logan obediently stepped on the accelerator. The golf cart began to roll forward at a leisurely pace.

"Oh, are you kidding me?" Roman demanded.

"It's okay!" Remus said. He had turned so he could peer out the back, and was happy to see Shaa and M'Birr still struggling on the ground. "Dang, Patton, I think you broke Shaa's leg."

"Don't say that!" Patton wrapped his arms around himself and instead turned his attention to Roman. "What was that all about, anyway?"

Roman explained, punctuated by interjections from Remus. This concluded with Remus sitting back in his seat with a huff. "I can't believe nobody got shot."

"Should we have confiscated their guns?" Patton wondered out loud.

"Hopefully security will deal with them," Logan said. "Does anyone know where the Tier III Lounge is, by the way? I've been making evasive maneuvers, and now I am unsure--"

"So we're lost," Remus interrupted. "Possibly with more assassins after us, if the kitties called for backup."

Roman rested his forehead against the back of Patton's seat. "I hope the Captain is having a better day than we are."

Despite the lack of immediate danger, Janus was having a much worse day than the whole of his crew, save perhaps Virgil, who was still negotiating his drug deal in the bathroom.

"So you see," Sihok was saying, his drink nearly untouched, "an asymmetrical system is beautiful not only for those at the top, but for those at the bottom by instilling hope in them that they might someday reach the top."

"Capitalism," said Janus, bored. "You just described capitalism."

"Perhaps I did," Sihok said, and displayed the Vulcan equivalent of a guarded smile.

Janus masked his utter confusion behind raucous laughter. "Sihok, what exactly are you implying?"

"Nothing at all," said Sihok primly. "I was merely displaying my admiration for the artful execution of a certain style of economics."

That was when Virgil emerged from the bathroom clutching a roll of tablets, the drug known as 'kin.' It was identical to the one Sihok was holding, and the implications of this turned his stomach. Sihok was head of security for the whole of Ya'Lotus, and the way he had spoken to Janus had implied that he was after something, though Virgil had no idea what it could be.

Virgil hurried over to the table, heart racing in anticipation of what he was about to do. He had information that Janus might need and he couldn't speak it out loud. After hearing he had been assigned to the Foley, he had made a point to study the biology and abilities of Vulcans, though he had no idea what telepathic abilities Janus might have inherited as a human-Vulcan hybrid, and a genetic anomaly at that. Virgil was taking a risk, one that might draw the Captain's ire or make him look foolish, which was as dire a consequence to Virgil as death.

He approached the booth and, before Janus could get up, gently rested his hand on Janus' shoulder.

Janus froze. Sihok marked this, and Virgil noticed him notice. Dread trickled down his spine like cold water. "Excuse me, Captain," he said weakly.

"Bored already?" Janus asked. He directed an amused look at Sihok and said, "The human attention span," in a tone of patient exhaustion, then got up to let Virgil in.

Virgil was careful not to brush up against Sihok's legs, but he could tell that Sihok was staring as he scooted back up against the wall. Despite Janus' lack of reaction, he had a sneaking suspicion that his plan had worked too well and that not only Janus, but Sihok as well had picked up on the information he had transmitted.

They all lingered for a moment in a silent standoff. It was Janus who broke the silence, laughing again and rolling his eyes. "I have to say, Sihok, I'm a little disappointed. And offended, if I'm being honest." He took the roll of kin from Virgil and set it on the table. "You're pushing a capitalist drug empire on a pleasure planet. What was the master plan? To establish a capitalist regime within the Federation with you at the top? How un-Vulcan."

Sihok ignored the slight. "I had intended to offer you a partnership. Are you declining?"

"Was that not obvious?" Janus asked, abandoning the last of his pretense at Vulcan restraint. "Not only am I declining, I'm calling you an idiot. Sihok, you are an idiot and a disgrace to the planet Vulcan, and I don't mean that as a compliment. I suppose now you're going to kill us before we can report you to Starfleet?"

"Yes," said Sihok.

"How?" asked Janus. "We're sitting down. Do you want to arm wrestle us to death?" Sihok took a breath to speak and Janus cut him off, "Don't even think about your phaser. Sure, you could get one of us, at which point the other would disarm you."

"Well," said Sihok, "it seems we have reached an impasse."

Virgil took another risk. "May I?" he asked, nodding at Sihok's drink. "You haven't touched it and if I'm going down today, I'm going down drinking."

"Control your crewman," Sihok said to Janus, deadly serious.

Virgil took the drink. "Thanks." He held onto the tumbler, using the numbing ache of chilled glass against his palm to ground himself.

"So," said Janus, disregarding Virgil, "an impasse."

"About that," said Sihok. "Your Ensign is new to Starfleet; you said so earlier." He drew his phaser and aimed it at Janus. "I do not believe he has the capacity to disarm me, especially as he has been drinking and his reaction time will be slowed."

Thinking that now was as good a time as any, Virgil touched Janus' leg and splashed his drink in Sihok's face. They both scrambled out of the booth and sprinted out the door. They paused for a moment to get their bearings, and that was when a golf cart plowed into Virgil at a speed equivalent to 10 miles per hour.

Logan hit the brake and reversed so as not to run over Virgil's legs. "Forgive me, Ensign Salem. Are you alright?"

Roman, who hadn't picked his head up from the back of Patton's seat, began to lightly tap his forehead against the metal support bar. "Please tell me you didn't just kill our Helmsman when we need him most."

Virgil scrambled to his feet, too full of adrenaline to register any serious pain. "We gotta get out of here."

"You too, huh?" Remus said. He patted the seat next to him and addressed Janus. "Climb aboard."

Janus hopped on and was forced to sit on Remus' lap. Unruffled, he barked, "Ensign Salem, evasive maneuvers. Now."

Virgil hopped into the driver's seat, which Logan had recently vacated, waited for Logan to clamber onto the back of the golf cart, and slammed down the accelerator. "Where to?"

"Evasive maneuvers, Ensign Salem. Let's lose our pursuers before we worry about a destination."

"Yes, sir." Virgil pulled around the back of the Tier III Lounge just as a dripping-wet Sihok emerged, phaser drawn. The chase that ensued was unremarkable, as the golf cart began to pick up speed while emitting a worrisome whining noise.

"I made some adjustments to the engine while we were moving," Remus said proudly.

"That's impossible," Janus answered.

"I said that, too," Logan said.

Virgil continued to steer them in concentric circles around Lotus Island, self-assessing now that he was calmer. He could already feel the dull ache of impending bruises on his hip and elbow, but the damage seemed minimal.

"So," said Roman, "who are you evading?"

"Oh," said Janus, feigning boredom, "just a would-be capitalist drug lord Vulcan hellbent on murdering us. You?"

Roman put the pieces together. "Said Vulcan's lackeys, also hellbent on murdering us."

"Oh!" said Patton and Logan simultaneously, albeit for very different reasons: Patton to express dismay and concern, Logan realizing why he had smelled opioids earlier.

"You're welcome, by the way," Remus said, addressing Patton since he was easier to reach. "Those Caitians were after you and Logan."

"Thanks," Patton said weakly. "You know, I'm not feeling very relaxed."

Janus looked around and, seeing no trace of either murderous Caitians or murderous Vulcans, leaned forward to address Virgil. "Set a course for the Transporter Building, departures terminal. Let's get the Hell out of here."

After making some arrangements on the viewing deck, Janus arranged for Virgil and Patton to be summoned from their rooms, where they had both gone to decompress. Virgil and Remus had first been strongarmed into going to Sickbay, where Patton looked them over and pronounced them fit for duty.

Remus was showing off his bandaged hand to Janus and regaling him with a greatly embellished tale of how he had received the injury when the doors slid open and Virgil and Patton appeared.

Patton came in first, Virgil lingering behind him. "Aw!" he said, looking around at the array of alcohol and finger foods arranged picnic-style on the floor. "What's this?"

"It's your welcome party," Janus explained. "Since Ya'Lotus didn't quite work out. Come sit."

Patton sat down next to Logan, leaving Virgil to occupy the empty space next to Janus. Janus offered him half a smile. "You did well today, Virgil. You may even have saved my life." He paused, then added, "Although I probably still could have disarmed Sihok before he got the shot off. Regardless." He poured Virgil a glass of bourbon. "Thank you, Ensign Salem. You did well."

"Yay, Virgil!" Patton said happily.

After ensuring that everyone had drinks, Janus regained command of everyone's attention and raised his glass. "A toast to honor our new crewmates. Virgil Salem, Patton Kelsey." He looked at them in turn. "Welcome aboard the Foley."

#spicywrites #spicywrites ticket crimes #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #platonic dlampr

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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years

Text

Our fireplace - Keigo x reader

A/N: This right here is a special present for @bluuenvy for the Secret Santa event fyeahbnha hosted! Hope you have a great holiday! I tried to implement as much of your interests/wishes, which you shared with me, as I could and hope that you’ll enjoy this fluffy story even a little bit! (*´◡`)

I also tried my hand at graphics and hope that it’s enough to count as a second present! Please enjoy! ❤️

Tags: Hawks/Keigo x reader ✅ SFW ✅ fluff ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

You were woken up rather sudden and unwillingly as the sunlight which shone on the empty space next to you reached your closed eyes. In an attempt to escape the bothersome light you turn your back to your windows and look at the dimly lit room with squinted eyes. The slight fragrance of your boyfriend’s cologne was still lingering and it made you remember the way his arms would always wrap around your body and keep you warm during all those nights immediately made a smile appear on your sleepy face.

Despite still feeling tired you stretched your body and reached for your glasses on the nightstand next to your bed, while doing so you managed to catch a glimpse of the clock.

8:35 AM…

You sighed and leaned your back against the headboard. It usually didn’t surprise you to wake up alone, but today you at least hoped to be able to have your beloved next to yourself. Sadly him being a pro hero meant that things like this would occur daily and you had no choice but to accept it.

Another sigh escaped your mouth as you slowly got up and made your way to the kitchen, ready to prepare some breakfast and start your first free day since long ago, but much to your surprise a plate of your favorite breakfast meal was already standing at the center of the kitchen island and a small note was leaned against the edge of the plate. You take the small paper and look at the familiar handwriting.

Good morning sunshine, hope I didn’t wake you up this morning (though maybe I should have). I wish you a Merry Christmas and hope that you’ll make the most out of today’s first half, ‘cause I get to have you all to myself during the second half. Just make sure to be at home by 6 PM, trust me...you won’t regret it.

Love you, my dear

While you read that note, you failed to notice the wide grin that had spread across your face. The mere thought of your boyfriend having prepared something for the two of you additionally to his plan of coming home earlier than he had ever managed before made your heart race with anticipation. You started humming to yourself while you ate your warm breakfast.

Today is going to be a great day…

With that thought in mind, you finished up eating, put the dishes away, and made your way to the bathroom. Your plan for today was to mainly spoil yourself and do some shopping, since thanks to work you weren’t able to go on a good shopping spree for quite a while.

Surrounded by the warm and bubbly water of your bathtub you let your thoughts wander, thinking about whether you should invite some of your friends to accompany you, but you decided against it, remembering that today was a special holiday they’d probably like to spend alongside their families and significant others. Thanks to your thought process, the idea of spending Christmas alongside your beloved entered your mind once again and before you could suppress any upcoming scenario that popped into your head, you saw a small smiley face on the mirror shelf unit above your sink. Your eyes widened as you remembered the day Hawks had drawn this small emoticon. The two of you took a bath together on that day and when you started drying your hair in front of the mirrored shelf he made fun of your pouty face. He said that you should try and look more cheerful so that you prevent any wrinkles from forming on your beautiful and young face. Since the mirror was still partially fogged back then, the little face had stayed there, and it unexpectedly brightened up your mood.

“Alright, let’s do this!” you happily cried out and raised both of your fists into the air, determined to make this the best day of your life.

After pressing the play button on your phone’s favorite playlist and turning the volume to max, you began to dance while you dressed yourself up. As for today’s outfit, you picked one that you considered your favorite: black skinny jeans, a dark purple top, and a grey pullover with dark-colored patterns. Now that you were dressed up, you once again returned to the bath to do your hair, since having long hair meant a lot of struggles, but you never considered it that way...if anything you absolutely loved it and you’d gladly spend almost an hour playing with it or fixing it, and indeed it took you 40 minutes to fix it the way you wanted it to be. With a triumphant grin, you placed your hands on your hips and admired the subtle hairdo that perfectly complemented your facial features.

Perfect...now I’m all set.

Instead of pausing your loud music, you simply plugged your headphones in and continued dancing to the vibrant beats that roared through the small speakers as you progressively left the apartment.

——

After getting on your regional bus which would drive you right to the heart of the city where all of the shops would stand so close to each other that they resembled a tight-knitted pearl necklace, allowing not even the tiniest space for a side alley. You took a seat next to the window and looked out, relishing the familiar places of your vivid hometown. As soon as the vehicle passed a couple of your favorite stores you once again remembered some of your past dates with Keigo and thanks to the energetic J-Rock music that dominated your playlist, the scenes you recalled were mostly positive. Even though you were in a slight daze something caught you off guard. A pair of red wings flashed before your vision and you were so taken aback that it took you a short while to actually process what you had seemingly witnessed. You reluctantly turned your head back a bit, trying to make sure that your eyes weren’t deceiving you, but the bus had already passed the shop in question and the trademark of your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen.

Am I finally starting to see things?

Your stop finally arrived and the moment you got out of the bus, the festive mood of the city finally hit you in all its glory. Holiday lights, garlands, colorful posters announcing sales or wishing passersby and customers a merry Christmas. Everything was so full of life and bright that the immense urge to visit every single shop overcame you, a tingly feeling you know too well. The city center was brimming with life and not only tourists and locals were present, but also some folks from the outskirts had decided to drop by and enjoy what the usually stressful and oppressing collage of high buildings had organized for the festive days. Your excitement went through the roof as you walked a few steps, letting your eyes roam around, and that’s when you first took notice of the variety of street vendors that loudly advertised their products and food. Everything seemed so welcoming and warm and if it weren’t for your little “promise” with Keigo, you would’ve spent your entire day jumping from one store to the other, trying as much of the food out as your stomach could take. A silent giggle escaped your lips at the sheer imagination of yourself going through with that plan, but enough of that. You were here to spoil yourself and no one was going to stop you from it.

A few hours passed by and within those you had visited a handful of shops. You had paid a visit to your favorite clothing store, which you left with two full shopping bags, full of new different tops, jeans, jackets, and a few beanies you’d occasionally put on. Next, you visited one of the many music stores your city had constructed, looking for the newest release of your main Japanese rock band as well as for some merch to go along with it. Further down the street was a small and barely noticeable building, its size was minuscule in comparison to the ones which surrounded him and unlike them, it had no modern façade, it was a simple brick building with very few Christmas decorations. And this small store was something you considered your getaway on lonely days or just bad days in general...it was your favorite bookstore. You were always over the moon when they had the latest release of your favorite genre of books, namely mystery novels. The staff there was similar to the building’s exterior: old but proper, super friendly, and attentive to any type of customers. They adored you and you did so as well. That mutual fondness you had for each other lead to many conversations on different topics, you sometimes even sat down and drank something together, but the main thing they did for you was set the newest releases to the side and wait for you to pick them up.

When you opened the wooden door to the store the familiar chime of the small bell above the door frame rang out, notifying the two owners of your arrival.

“My dear, welcome! How have you been?”

Another wide smile adorned your lips as you took the old and skinny hands of the owner into your own, squeezing them lightly. The two of you exchanged greetings, chatted a bit, and then his facial features dropped a little. His voice sounded sad as he confessed to you that there were no new novels for you to pick up. His seriousness took you by surprise, but you just giggled and reassured him, that it was no problem whatsoever, you were here to give them something in the first place. Their surprised and touched expressions warmed your heart, and after exchanging dozens of hugs you exited the store and resumed your shopping spree…

“No way! Bakugou look who’s there!”

The sudden loud but cheerful voice caught you off guard and as you turned your head to its source you saw a familiar duo amid the countless other pedestrians.

“Kirishima! Bakugou! What a coincidence of meeting you guys here!”

“There’s nothing coincidental about this and you know it.”

Both you and the red-haired young man squinted your eyes and raised your eyebrows at the grumpy blond, who immediately got flustered and tried to hide it with countless insults that weren’t bad-mannered in the least. Ignoring his usual tactics Kirishima and you shifted your attention to each other and started chatting up a storm.

“Have you been out shopping for presents as well?” he asked with his typical lively voice. You smiled and answered that this was more or less the case. The three of you resumed the walk and talked about today’s plans.

You found out that the former 1A planned a get-together at a restaurant and Bakugou made sure to stress multiple times that he wasn’t here voluntarily and that Kirishima had forced him to go shopping for some small surprises for their former classmates.

“And what about you, don’t you have anything planned with that birdman of yours?” If you weren’t between these tall men right now, the blond would’ve gotten elbowed by his friend, who now had to resort to glares only.

“Bakugou, you can’t ask her something so personal!”

“Why not? Didn’t we tell her about our plans too?”

“She’ll share it with us if she feels comfortable, ok? It’s way more private than our get-together!”

“You little-”

Much to their surprise, your giggles were what interrupted their small bickering and after a while, the two of them couldn’t hold back and joined in. After calming down you just shook your head and told them about the small note he had left behind but after suppressing all those lonely thoughts for the entire day, your facade finally dropped and so did your expression. You couldn’t take it anymore, this entire time you had spent in the city, trying to spoil yourself, one couple after the other entered your sight and as if to spite you, all of them recreating some of the cutest couple moments you had experienced alongside Hawks. It was as if all the couples had come up with a plan to constantly rub salt into your wound and you really hated being that overdramatic, but you really couldn’t help it.

So what if I want to be with him on Christmas?

Is it bad that I want him by my side on a holiday one is supposed to celebrate with their loved one?

You suddenly felt a big hand pat you on your back and it startled you. Turns out that you had been saying all of these things out loud. Now both men were looking at you with a worried and sympathetic expression, it was no secret that you were embarrassed about your sudden outburst and just as you were about to apologize to them, Bakugou sighed unexpectedly audible, catching the two of you off guard.

“You know I’m probably never going to hear the end of this, but I can’t keep this up anymore...not when you’re like this,” he paused and looked at you “before I met up with Kirishima, I saw that bird further down the street, mumbling to himself that he had to quickly go back home and start preparing for something or else he wouldn’t make it. So chances that you meet him at home right now rather than later...are rather high.”

That’s all he had to say and the perhaps biggest grin you had ever mustered appeared on your face a couple of seconds after he had finished his little confession of sorts. You really wanted to stay with them for a little bit longer but the thought of meeting Keigo earlier than expected prevailed, so you hugged them goodbye, wished them and their classmates a pleasant night, and finally gave Bakugou a quick and rather unexpected kiss on his puffed-out cheek. Kirishima stopped him from releasing his quirk under the broad daylight while they were in between all these innocent people and earned himself a reward kiss on his cold red cheek as well.

The drive back passed by quicker in comparison to earlier and you were really thankful for that since you couldn’t wait to meet your beloved any longer.

“Keigo!”

Your loud voice mixed with the quick and sudden way you opened the front door startled the winged man so bad that he even let out a silent yelp. He was so surprised by your premature visit that he just stood there in the middle of the living room with two beautifully wrapped presents in his hands. You were quite surprised yourself at the way your home had changed in those few hours you were away, but that was secondary right now because something on your boyfriend caught your attention. He wore a fluffy white pullover which you secretly knitted for him over the course of a few months, it was supposed to be his present for today which you had put underneath the small Christmas tree the two of you decorated a few weeks back.

“Ok wait, I can explain!”

While he put away the two boxes in panic, you simply jogged up to him and jumped into his arms, almost knocking him down. Before he could say anything, you began kissing his lips passionately and after a few of your kisses, he decided to just drop his explanation for the time being and enjoy your affectionate behavior, which he of course returned with as much love as you had given him.

When the two of you finally separated, he took the initiative and began talking: “So before you start showering me with questions all I want to say is that I was planning on surprising you with a joint dinner, some presents, and your favorite dessert. Unfortunately, someone caught me in the middle of my plans so now…you’ll have to wait quite a bit for me to finish everything up, sorry about that sunshine I reall-”

“It’s ok Keigo I don’t mind! If anything...I’d love to help you out with it and even though that might ruin your planned surprise, I honestly don’t care for it too much. I just want to be with you today.”

Your bluntness had always been something he admired you for and it was no secret that he still had some problems with expressing his feelings without any restraint and that’s why he really appreciated it when you made the first steps. Back when the two of you had first met it was the exact opposite: he was the open and pretty forward person while you were a tad shyer, but after the two of you gradually grew closer to each other your roles reversed. Nonetheless, you both complement each other perfectly and every day was but another great adventure.

The two of you moved your conversation to the kitchen where you guys finished up the rest of the dinner and talked about your day. That’s also when you finally answered the question he was constantly bringing up, namely why you knew that he’d be back at home earlier than he promised.

After you guys put some of the meals in the oven and let the others cool down, your boyfriend took you by the hand and dragged you to the fireplace he had lit some moments ago, urging you that it was now your turn to open your presents.

Keigo sat down cross-legged in front of you and watched you open the boxes with big eyes. You picked the bigger one first and when you finally reached the present you couldn’t help but laugh. It was a beige cardigan which also seemed like it was self-knit, similar to the pullover you gave him. Both of you couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the similar thoughts you guys had for a present. Next up was the smaller rectangle box which was way harder in comparison and even though you tried your best to not damage the wonderfully chosen present paper, your curiosity got the best out of you and soon you were ripping one small piece after the other...and forth came a book.

“N-No way! Keigo is that what I think this is?”

“Well...if you’re thinking about the newest volume of your favorite suspense novel, then yes, this is indeed it!”

You happily cried out his name and once again threw your arms around his neck, but this time it was him who attacked you with millions of kisses. Keigo then took you into his arms and leaned his back against the couch. Both of you remained in that position for a short while, his calm breathing, and a little quickened heartbeat were having a quite calming effect on you. The warmth the fire next to you provided made you sleepy on top of that and just as you were about to close your eyes and doze off, your beloved’s voice brought you back to reality...

“You know sunshine...if there is something like a past life then I’d like to believe that we were destined to be together but didn’t manage to do it.”

It was surprising to hear him speak of past lives since this was normally a topic you were interested in and often thought about, Keigo on the other hand usually listened to your theories and imaginations and added his opinion occasionally, so hearing him initiate it this time was a little worrisome. But you knew better than to interrupt him, so all you did was squeeze his body tighter and remain silent yet attentive.

“I rarely imagine stuff like that, but on days like this I just can't help but wonder if I really deserve this much happiness...d-don’t misunderstand me though, I’m really really thankful for you, our relationship, everything! But everything is going so smooth that I just can't help but overthink it and maybe we weren’t in a relationship in our past lives, but ended up leading a good life despite that, so now...”

Silence followed and you heard how his pulse had remarkably quickened the longer he talked about it, knowing Keigo his thoughts had already begun drifting into the darkest of abysses, and you weren’t going to let that happen.

“...Now you’re thinking that something bad might be waiting for us in the future...as payback for our good life but bad relationship type of past life?” you asked as you looked up to the worried facial expression of your lover, whose only reaction was to nod. You sat up and looked him directly into his eyes while your hands squeezed both of his cheeks.

“That’s not how past lives work Keigo and you know it. I don’t want you to plunge yourself in darkness over a theory with no basis. Since when were you even that type of guy who believed that...what did you call it again...mambo jambo?”

He smiled and gave your palms a gentle kiss, but he remained silent, waiting for you to finish.

You continued trying to reassure him, telling him that no matter what you guys were going to face in the future you’d always have each other and even if that one random theory he came up with should happen one day, you promised him to never leave his side.

And this seemingly meaningless promise is what drove Hawks to come out of his comfort zone in the following months, he also started coming home earlier from work and patrols. All in all, he began spending more time with you and you had nothing against it, if anything you appreciated him thinking more about your joint life as well as himself.

One day when you once again got woken up by the sunlight you felt how someone caressed your cheek and then the mattress tilted as the weight which was next to you disappeared. It took you a few minutes to wake yourself up and look around for your lover, but then you noticed something on your hand. Your eyes widened and you immediately jumped out of your bed, looking for Keigo, who was smiling to himself as he took a seat in front of your fireplace and patiently waited for you...

#fyeahbnhasecretsanta #bnha x reader #mha x reader #takami keigo x you #hawks x you #bnha fluff #mha fluff #━𝙱𝙽𝙷𝙰 #━𝙼𝙷𝙰 #━𝚅𝙸𝚂𝙸𝚃𝙾𝚁'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾 #bluuenvy

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imaginesmai · 4 years

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Chris Evans - Banana’s new friend

Requested by @captainchrisstan, hope you like it! This is another part of the Banana’s series! You can read this without reading the previous one, since there isn’t a plot line, just our favourite plushie making another appearence

Bananas

Banana 2: Banana’s worries

Plot: little Nathan is the new addition to the Evans-Y/L/N family, and Banana is having troubled feelings, along with Claire.

Warnings: I don’t know shit about little babies and births, give me a break.

“I don’t wike it”

In any other situation, it would have been funny, because Chris and you had a bet going on to see how many times she could say it in day. And since he had won the last one, you wanted it for yourself. But it wasn’t funny, because Claire wasn’t laughing neither was Chris, neither were you. No one was laughing in the Evans-Y/L/N family that night, because you were exhausted from more than twelve hours of labour and a whole day in the hospital.

Chris was exhausted too, if not more than you, because the poor man had been running from the hospital to your house all day, taking care of Claire while picking up the stuff you needed.

Both of you blinked your tired eyes at the little girl, who was pouting and had her arms crossed. Nathan gurgled something and drooled on the floor.

“What – what do you mean?” Chris attempted to laugh, but it came out too awkward. “He’s not an it, baby. He’s Nathan, your little brother”

“Well, I don’t wike him” Claire corrected herself and let her lower lip slip even farther from her mouth. “Take him back. I wan’ a differen’ brothe’”

Little Nathan didn’t react to his sister’s word, but kept making baby noises and drooling all over the same spot of the floor. He was wearing what you thought was the most cute onesie you could have found, with little Captain America’s shields all over the cloth, and Claire loved everything that had to do with it.

She had been so, so excited to meet him, that she hadn’t slept through the night, and had begged and begged to his uncle until he had taken her with Chris. After a week in the hospital, that was all she could talk about. And finally, when she got to meet him in the lobby of your home, she said that she ‘didn’t wike’ him.

“Claire, that’s not nice” you said, from your position behind Chris. He was crouching down in front of Claire, who was standing in the first step of the stairs and looking at the baby in her daddy’s arms. “We can’t change Nathan, he is your little brother and that’s final”

“But I don’t wike him!”

You gasped surprised at her sudden rage outburst, because apart from the occasional tantrum thrown from the toddler phase, she was a calm child. What surprised you the most, however, was when she threw the Banana plushie, who she had been dying to show to her little brother, to Nathan’s face.

Chris was fast enough to avoid it hitting the baby’s face, but still it collided with his tummy, and even if it was made of soft cotton, it disturbed the baby from the little daydream he was having. So the screaming started.

“Claire!” you and Chris shouted at the same time, while he raised up and cuddled Nathan to his chest. The small baby cried and sobbed so loud that you wanted to do the same. “You can’t do that!”

“Banana hates him!” she screamed back to you, and ran to pick up her plushie. “And I hate him too!”

You weren’t fast enough to catch the sobbing little girl that ran up the stairs to her room, and closed the door with a loud kick. The four year old girl screamed from her room so hard that you heard her over the sounds of Nathan wailing, and your eyes got glossy.

For so long, you had had the impression that everything had been going well. Claire had overgrown her fear of being forgotten because of the new addition to the family, and she actually helped to make the nursery and always bought something from the toy-store for him. And now, it seemed that everything had gone to hell.

“Oh my god” you cried out, and sat where seconds ago Claire had been. “That went so bad”

“Well” Chris sighed, and walked over to sit with you. “At least she threw Banana at him, not some other toy”

“Yeah, that makes it so much better” you rolled your eyes at him. “I feel so much better now. Thanks babe”

“Okay, I get it” he sat down besides you, and kept bouncing up and down the crying baby on his shoulder. “Do you want me to go and talk with her?”

Just the thought about having to face again a crying kid made you want to dig yourself in a hole and never come back, so you nodded and closed your eyes tightly. There was a constant pain on your lower regions because you hadn’t wanted to stay anymore at the hospital, and the doctor had allowed it as the birth hadn’t had complications.

“Go and rest for a while” Chris leaned down and kissed your forehead.

You looked up at him, and actually felt pity. He had dark black bags under his eyes, cracked lips and his head was a mess. There was stain of mayonnaise on his shirt, the same he had been wearing for a whole day, and he still had one sock from each colour. But you felt like dropping dead on the wooden floor, so you nodded.

“But wake me up in an hour or so” you smiled at him and kissed him. He didn’t taste like heavens and angels, but more like morning breath and coffee. “I have to breastfeed monster number two”

“Monster number two seems to be sleeping” Chris looked down to Nathan, who had his shirt fisted by the part of the stain and his little cute mouth open in a perfect O.

“Alright” you yawned and couldn’t get your hand to cover your mouth, just let Chris do his usual stuff and stuck his finger on your mouth. You stopped yawning and sent him the best bitch glare you could manage. “I hate you so much. Not even after pushing your son out of my vagina you give a break”

“What can I say” Chris shrugged. “Banana told me to do it”

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

Your ‘no more than an hour’ nap turned out in a five hours sleep, and by the judge of your breast hanging out of your pyjamas’ shirt, it seemed like you had slept through the feeding. You took a few long minutes to wake up, feeling much better than when you went to bed. Judging the sun up in the sky, you estimated it was around noon.

Loud snores were coming from the bathroom, and with just propping un on your elbows, you could see Chris’ slipper popping from there. You swallowed a laugh and smiled fondly. Putting on your own slippers, you rose from the bed and walked to the bathroom.

As you had anticipated, Chris was sleeping there. He had his pants and underwear down, sprawled down on the toilet seat and his legs open wide. You didn’t have the heart to wake him, because only God knew how many minutes of sleep he had had in the previous day. So you turned off the main light, picked up his phone from the floor, closing the tab 100 ways of living without sleep, and let the door a bit open so that he wouldn’t wake up in the dark.

Of course, all that after taking a picture that would haunt him in his sleep.

You tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind you. You debated between locking yourself in the bathroom downstairs and drown in the bath until Nathan cried for you, and choking on food on the kitchen. But while you did so, you notice something else.

There was the initial cry of a baby begging for attention, that you knew too well because you had trained yourself with Claire, who had the lungs of an opera singer. Yet as soon as it started, it was over, and then there was a giggle. Something shuffling in the living room and a thud, and you were almost throwing yourself through the stairs to call the police or the firefighters.

What you found, wasn’t what you expected by any means.

“See, this is how you ‘old him” Claire talked in what she thought was a whisper. “I know Banana is too big, but it’s ‘kay. You’ll grow”

Claire was sitting in front of Nathan, who probably had been sleeping in his new crib. You didn’t want to think how she had gotten him out of the crib and in the sofa, and your wanted to think even less that it had been Chris who left him there.

Nathan looked at the banana plushie and then at his sister, making a small gurgling noise. He let Claire put the toy on his lap, and his eyes went wide against it. He moved his little arms and legs up and down, until Banana fell to the ground and Claire jumped behind it. You were ready to jump in and tear Claire away, because she was hell protective about her toy and wouldn’t let anyone touch it.

But she giggled again, put the plushie on the couch and jumped back, crawling to her brother. She pressed a kiss on the side of his head and smiled at him.

“I wike you, by the way” she muttered. “I’m sorry fo’ before. But you can’t tell mommy, because then she will put tha’ smile and I don’t wike it. You will understand, don’ worry Nathan”

What was left of your pride after letting a bunch of doctors look at your vagina dropped to the floor. Chris was always mocking you on how you were the most prideful person in the world, and how you had the ‘I won’ smirk that managed to get on everyone nerves. You hadn’t thought anything about it, but that Claire had noticed to made you mad, because he was right and you weren’t.

“I hope you aren’t allergic to bananas” she muttered as she took one of his little hands in his. Nathan was dozing off again. “Cause then I’ll have to get rid of you. Like in the TV”

You sat down by the stairs and leaned your head against the wall, smiling proudly. Claire kept talking to Nathan softly, as if she knew he was sleeping and couldn’t be disturb. Maybe, in the years to come, you would have to worry about Claire throwing Nathan off the high chair because he didn’t like Bananas, or about them not sharing his toys.

But you got the feeling, as you dozed off in the stairs, that everything would be alright.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

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shaheenarnitipsyart · 3 years

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The harper from the past

This is the first time joining this @flashfictionfridayofficial ! English is my second language and I’m so inexperinced in writing but hope it makes sense. The story is set in the dark-ages like world (the very end of Roman-Britain kind of era). And sorry it went over 1000 words!

Word Count 1086

TW/ non

Three kids were walking in the meadow. Although the spring had already touched the trees and fields, the chilly wind from the winter was still hanging in the air. Rosula, the eldest of three, tagged her coat tightly and looked back. 'Sulio, Luci, hurry up!' we gotta through the woods over there before the sunset!' Sulio, a year younger than Rosula, replied angrily. 'That's why I said it is a bad idea to use a 'shortcut' in this strange land!' 'What!?' Rosula shouted back, without turning her face towards him. 'You are the one who wandered off when we arrived in the city!' 'It's because I heard the battle of Mount Badon! I heard that our warlord is looking for warriors!' Sulio protested. 'As if you are good enough for the real battlefield! Look what you have gotten us into!' Rosula snorted. She was skilled in the art of the sword and Sulio was always envious. Her attitude made him furious. 'I'll choose what I'm gonna do with my life! Go wherever you like, you coward-heart!' He shouted back to her.

A couple of hours earlier, they were in the middle of the crowd making their way to the city which had slightly better city walls. Their neighboring towns were raided by so-called 'Sea People', forcing their family to join the uncertain journey towards the safe place, which was supposed to exist somewhere on this war-torn island. They finally managed to reach the city, only to find out that it was overwhelmed by other refugees like themselves. Sulio heard the rumour about the gathering of the war host. He couldn't help himself but followed them but he got lost. Rosula and tiny Luci, who miraculously followed her, found him in the end, but they couldn't find the rest of the family. They spent 3 days searching for them but concluded that the rest of the family had already left for the next well-fortified city.

They left the city quite early in the morning, but now the sun was getting close to the edge of the woods. The meadow could have been quite pleasant as the field was filled with the fragrance of newly sprouted grass. The sky was turning from pale, almost transparent blue to gold, then purple, dyeing the clouds pinkish-orange. Yet, Rosula and Sulio's minds were occupied with soon-coming darkness and frustration. Had it not been for Luci, they would have parted the way already. 'Look, what's that?' Luci finally caught up with the elder siblings, pointed out a huge stone standing ahead of them. 'It's a border stone, marking the border between the regions or maybe something sacred space... I think. It must be very old though' Sulio said. 'Our old aunt once said... if we see something like this, we should respect that, right?' Gently touching the stone, Luci said. His tiny fingers traced some curvings almost completely covered with moss and dust. Usually, Rosula and Sulio would just shrug. But they sensed something extraordinary. Maybe because of the blue shadow slowly wrapping the field. Or maybe because of the vivid orange light, the very last beam from the sun, burning on the surface of the stone. They solemnly touched the stone as their ancestors had done, and enter the new realm, although nothing seemed different.

They pushed on in the dark, and they found remains of the ancient fort of the legions. 'Seems like we gotta spend the night here' Rosula sighed and started picking up some dried grass. 'And Solio, if you wanna choose your way, do as you wish tomorrow. You can go back to the town. It's not too late.' Sulio nodded silently. They made a fire. 'Luci, you can choose whichever path. I know you are a clever one. I'll give you my blessings wherever you go.' Sulio murmured. Luci looked at their stern faces over the humble fire. Luci was a calm child and looked like daydreaming, but he could hear any subtle movements. Actually, it was Luci who found Sulio first. The wind was getting stronger and nearly blew away the fire. It sounded like hundreds of hooves approaching from the distance. Three kids shivered, not only because of the evening chill. They were remembering the story of the Wild Hunt - a troop of ghost cavalry. Suddenly, Luci heard someone was coming in the roaring wind. Rosula looked at tensed Luci, then put her hands on the hilt of her sword. Sulio followed, although his hand was subtly shaking. 'Who's there?' Rosula asked sharply. There was a tall figure in the shadow. 'Sorry for the intrusions, but could you please let me stay here as I lost my way?' A calm old voice came from the shadow. 'Reveal yourself, stranger.' Sulio said harshly. The person stepped out from the shadow. A rough-looking old man with shaggy hair in a ragged mantle appeared. Three kids suddenly felt sorry for him. 'Come close to the fire, sir.' Luci whispered, and Rosula and Sulio nodded. The man slowly smiled and bowed, then stepped towards the fire. 'Where are you going, may I ask?' The stranger asked as he putting something wrapped in worn-out red cloths on the ground. They looked at each other uncomfortably. Before they opened their mouth, the man pulled out an old harp from the red cloths. 'Are you a harper?' Three of them said at the same time. 'Yes indeed I am, and I'd like to offer you some songs in return for your warm fire.' He adjusted the strings and smiled. Three kids held their breath and came a little bit closer so that they could catch every single note.

'The sons of the horse goddess The proud eagles, The warriors fearless, Disperse the evils We, stronger together Marching through the land pathless'

As he sang, he looked younger and younger. His glass-like grey eyes shone like a torch. The kids were listening to the songs and didn't notice the roaring wind had ceased. The harper, now looked like just a little older than Rosula, gently said. 'Now, children, sleep. And remember, we are stronger together. Don't split up as the land here is treachery. Blessings, my dear fellows.' Then he whispered to himself. 'Now my troop had gone, I must retreat to my old world...'

The first ray of the sun woke them up. There was no trace of the harper. The anger and uncertainty they felt had melted away, and they looked at the dawn. The new day was coming.

Thanks to my talented friend and the regular of FFF, @clad-in-sunshine for recommended me to join this interesting prompt!

#flash fiction friday #creative writing #short story #roman britain #adventure #wip stuff #historical fiction

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aye-write · 3 years

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Summary: Research student Isla Reid has been fascinated with the legend of the Kildonian Chessmen - a trio of mythical Pokemon rumoured to have lived centuries ago on the remote region of Kildo - for as long as she can remember. So, when a museum exhibit on the Chessmen is set to open in Kildo’s Hydrogate City, coinciding with her independent research project, she packs herself and her trusty partner Furret onto the long ferry journey bound for this new region.

However, when she arrives in Kildo, thoughts of her research, new friends, and an entire Pokedex’s worth of new Pokemon, are quickly dashed. Kildo is a troubled place, beset by natural disasters and fierce rivalries among its people. Isla suddenly finds herself at the centre of a centuries-old plot to invoke the wrath of the Chessmen, and is set on a race against time to stop them, before it spells destruction for the entire region.