#this is short so its only a part one (part two incoming shortly) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

perriewinklenerdie · 4 years ago

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Follow my steps (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 3,8 k

Summary: OH3 Chapter 12/13 added content. Claire gets fed up with the way Ethan’s been treating her lately. She gives him one last chance to make things right, at Boston Opera House - for old time’s sake.

Warnings: It’s angst time.

A/N: I don’t even know what’s going on lately. I wanted angst and here it is. My girl C really is running thin on her patience for her man’s bullshit (and so am I).

Are you okay? was the first message he received from her that day. He left shortly after he revealed his departure from the team, so her concern really should be no surprise. Still, he sighed deeply, silenced his phone and turned it screen side down, then went back to cooking, unsure what his answer would be.

Minutes dragged by, yet somehow turned into hours and before he knew it, the sun was racing towards the horizon. Almost completely consumed by it. He reached for his phone, planning on heading to his living room and rest his mind after he spent what felt like ages of grueling research into his options. His face twisted into a frown at the sight of his screen. Immediately after, blood drained from his face.

Ethan, please let me know you’re in one piece.

A simple ��I’m fine’ would be enough. Seriously, I’m getting worried.

He battled with his brain, still uncertain what to tell her. She had enough on her plate with the team and the Boards, she didn’t need his problems to be added onto the already enormous pile. He replied with the only thing he could think of in that moment, resenting himself for letting her worry about him for so long.

I’m okay.

By the time he sat down on the couch and some ridiculous show was playing in the background – Claire was the one that introduced him to it, and he would never admit it, but he enjoyed their debates about it – a new message was waiting for him.

Oh, thank god.

Followed shortly after by a longer one, contents of which made him feel a pit opening in his stomach.

So, want to share with class why you went radio silent for the whole day, instead of, I don’t know, letting your girlfriend know that you’re not dead so she could worry a bit less?

He had no answer to that. How was he supposed to tell her that he was terrified of what was to come and that it could possibly be fatal for him? How was he supposed to say that he didn’t want her to be even associated with the case, because he cared about her too much to risk her getting affected by it too?

In the end, he didn’t reply. And she didn’t say anything else. An impasse, of his own doing, that he had no idea how to end. He knew he had to do something – she was a very patient woman, much more patient than him, but even she had her limits. And this? This wasn’t the first time he’s pushed her away in a similar manner.

Although he was aware of that, he still refused to call her. It was getting late, she was probably studying or getting ready for bed. She needed her rest, the next week was incredibly important for her future as a doctor.

That’s what he told himself for the next two days. Every time he felt a tingle in his hand to contact her, he reminded himself of her commitments and pushed the thought down. Despite that, every single time his phone made even the smallest sound, he threw himself towards it, hoping that it was her.

It wasn’t. Two days of no contact between them.

Realizing how long it’s been made him think of their conversation a few months back. They were sitting in the exact same place he currently occupied, close to each other. His hand holding hers with certainty.

They promised each other no more secrets. No more pushing each other away. And honest conversation. All of which were his ideas. He whispered all of them with deep sense of urgency, in a fever-like state that surprised her. She nodded her head eagerly, muttering words of affirmation, then let him pull her onto him, their lips meeting again and again in a soft reassurance.

He’s broken the rules he wanted them so much to have. And not even once. No wonder she didn’t try to get in touch with him – he’s given her every indication that he didn’t want to talk about it, and she pushed only until a certain point was reached.

“I can take a hint, you know.” She once joked, poking his ribs when they walked out of the patient’s room, their initial consult being far from ideal. He smiled sadly at the memory, his chest aching from her absence.

As though he called her with his thoughts, his phone announced an incoming message. He planned what he would say, what he would do once he saw her – and what he would not do in the future. He hated when they didn’t talk to each other, and he hated the thought of losing her even more.

Instead of her words, like he expected, the screen greeted him with a single picture she sent him. Two tickets, for an evening show at Boston Opera House. A clear invitation, an olive branch that she should not have been pushed to extend – she didn’t do anything wrong. He looked closer at the photo, zooming in on the time the show was supposed to start.

Two hours. He had two hours to get himself together. Two hours until he’d see her again.

Heart pounding, he jumped up from his seat and began preparations, dialing another phone number and giving clear instructions to the person on the receiving end of the call.

He doesn’t think there’s ever been a time he was this nervous when stepping into the Opera building. And it was a different kind of nervous, a kind he never wanted to experience again. He was used to the anticipation that came with every date they ever had, the good kind of nervousness that stemmed from his inability to wait until he saw her. This, however, was torture in its purest form, and he admitted to himself with a pang of guilt that he subjected himself to it on his own.

His hands were full. Full of flowers that the florist somehow managed to put together when he called frantically two hours ago – he left a hefty tip with a grateful nod. His fingers traced the stems of the white roses, shaking nervously. From time to time, he tugged on the collar of his shirt, restlessly, the uncertainty of what was to come making his breathing labored.

“Nice tux.” She called out, waiting patiently for him to face her. It didn’t take long – her voice made him turn around haphazardly, his eyes drinking in her face and then widening when he noticed the dress she was wearing. Suddenly, he couldn’t see anything else but the way the fabric hugged her in the classiest way.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he breathed out, his brain short circuiting. Her lips curled in a subtle smile. She touched the pearl necklace he once gave her in wonder.

“Haven’t decided yet.”

Ethan took a step towards her, extending the bouquet slightly with an uneasy look. Her eyes fell towards the flowers and, for a moment, he thought he could see her gaze softening. She took the roses from him, the scent reaching her in waves.

“Thank you.” she muttered without looking up at him. Despite her being just mere centimeters away from him, he could still feel the chasm between them – and he felt like the space was suffocating him.

“It’s not nearly enough.” He tried again. Claire hummed, not disagreeing with his words. She reached into her purse, taking two tickets out and handing him one of them. He accepted it gratefully, combing his mind for something that would start a conversation between them. The silence was killing him.

He looked closer at the ticket and noticed something was off. “You didn’t book our booth?”

The corners of her lips shot up slightly at ‘our’. “No, I got us seats in the booth on the other side. I needed…” she hesitated, avoiding his searching gaze. “A change of perspective.”

His mouth opened and closed. She rarely said anything without thinking it through, so the choice of words she used made him feel unease all over again. Claire finally looked up at him, giving him a teasing smirk.

“Before you say anything, I didn’t go bankrupt because of those.” She nodded towards the tickets in their hands. “I have more than enough money to spend on things I want.”

“That resident salary is treating you that well, huh?” he tried joking and it worked. She gave him a laugh, shaking her head.

“A resident that’s also on the Diagnostic Team. And you’re clearly forgetting what my family does for a living.”

“Did you just flex your family muscle on me?” Ethan grinned, taking another step towards her. She nodded, challenging him with her stare. “Are you trying to impress me?”

“That’s your job tonight, babe.” Claire shot back, walking around him swiftly. He froze in place, turning towards her like a sunflower towards the sun – always following where she went. Her hips swayed from side to side alluringly as she walked, and he couldn’t look away. Suddenly, she stopped to look over her shoulder, smirking at the look he was giving her. “Are you coming or not?”

The lights from the stage illuminated her face just enough for him to see her features. Since they sat down and the show has started, he’s spent a total of maybe five minutes watching what was happening on stage. Remaining time was occupied by her, on the forefront of his mind and right before his eyes. Her cheeks were reddened slightly – something he noticed when a particularly bright light shone on her face.

They’ve done it countless of times before. Dates. He never got used to nerves that accompanied them, and he hoped he never would. It was a part of the allure that made it all the more exciting. Claire’s always made him feel nervous, since the first day he’s met her. Three years later, he still felt the same spark that ran through him when he first touched her hand.

He turned to her again, unable to ignore the pang that hit him every time he saw her stopping herself from reaching for him. She may have been the one that organized their evening, giving him a chance to make things right between them, but it didn’t mean she was going to ignore what was obviously there.

She’d never make him talk if he wasn’t ready to do so. Their relationship was built on mutual respect. They recognized when the other needed to talk and when they needed some time to gather their thoughts. Through the time they’ve known each other, they learned to find those cues and signs.

That’s how Claire knew that Ethan wasn’t really ready to tell her what exactly happened, hence why she stuck to texts instead of calls or visits. His lack of any contact, however, hurt her – more so when his previous behaviors similar to this were taken into consideration.

In light of this, her hesitation to initiate any sort of contact between them made perfect sense. All he had to do was let her know that he was okay, however relative it was to say in his current situation, and none of this would be happening. All he had to do was let her in, even if only a little – she’s never asked for anything more. And yet, he couldn’t even give her that, not immediately at least.

It became clear to him that he needed to let her know how much he trusts her. When she said she knew him. When she said she understood him – better than anyone, he added with a grin. When she said she’s falling for him. He trusted all of those words, but his actions didn’t support it. He could see it in her eyes when their gazes crossed earlier that evening. She thought he still sheltered himself from her, and him disappearing, again, was the proof that spoke the loudest.

Slowly, he reached for her hand. A soft brush of his finger against hers, testing the waters to see if she would flinch, if she would push him away or avoid him. When she did none of those things, he carefully covered her hand with his, only to, after a moment, lace their fingers together. Ethan gave her a squeeze, unable to bring himself to look away from the way their hands fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle. She squeezed his hand lightly, still refusing to look him in the eye.

Music swelled around them, tugging on their emotions until it was difficult to breathe. He noticed how her face twisted gently, revealing more of her feelings to him than he’s seen the entire evening. The characters on the stage have separated, each singing their hearts out about the feeling of loss – Claire couldn’t have known that, but the pain in their voices was enough to bring her to the edge of tears by the time the break in the show began.

Before Ethan could say anything, she excused herself breathlessly and walked out of the booth, leaving him alone to his thoughts. And he’s been alone with them for quite some time now.

He began reflecting on the first time he took her to see an opera. The similarity of the situation was striking – he suddenly knew why she suggested this out of every place they could go to. Her thoughtfulness really shouldn’t surprise him, yet he was always amazed with how well she knew what needed to be done. Oftentimes, she neglected her own needs to accommodate others, which left not much space for her in it all. That’s what became one of Ethan’s priorities early on in their relationship – make sure she remembered about herself.

She was taking care of him too, sometimes even unknowingly. Making him take breaks in the middle of the day. Bringing him coffee when he was stuck in meetings and couldn’t walk out of the room for even a second – the whole Board by now knew about their relationship from their first-hand observations, sending him meaningful looks when she left the room.

One thing that spoke more of her feelings for him than anything else was how she persistently stayed by his side through it all. His world was quite literally falling apart, and she was the one holding it in place. She told him that she knew how it felt to risk losing something you’ve worked for, how it felt to come so close to having everything slip away and that she was going to help him in any way she could.

Claire told him all of that when he broke the protocol – yet here they were again. If there was one person between the two of them that had a pattern of behavior, it was him – running away when things got too complicated. Or, as it stood right now, when he didn’t want her to get impacted by his problems. She’s told him that she wants to be impacted, that she wants to help him, because she cares about him. She’s by his side because she cares about him. And he told her he knew and understood her concern, but clearly, he didn’t register it enough, if he was in the exact same position right now. It’s as though he hasn’t learned a thing.

Perhaps she was getting tired of it. If he continued to act the way he’s been acting up until this point, she’d surely be pushed enough to leave him – and he couldn’t imagine a fate worse than that for himself.

It was the last time I let myself run, he thought to himself, cursing for even allowing it to get to this point. Where was his brain when he even considered it a viable option? In what universe would that behavior be okay? Her resolve and persistence became even more striking to him – he knew that he most likely didn’t deserve her.

She was still here, though, so he must have done something right. But one good deed wasn’t enough to make up for letting her down, time and time again. Ethan didn’t need her to tell him that what he was doing was unacceptable – he’s realized it on his own.

It’s never happening again.

Claire walked back into the booth, leaning against the wall to watch him. He was perfectly aware of what she could see in his posture. His nervousness in the way he played with the edge of his jacket. She’s been gone a moment too long and he was a second away from standing up from his seat to go after her.

Ethan turned around at the sound of her steps, refraining from saying anything until she was seated. His hand itched to reach for her, to feel her skin again. He got the permission to do just that, when their gazes finally crossed and she nodded gently. Letting out a shaky sigh of relief, he laced their fingers together, feeling the soft fabric of her dress under his skin.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, raising their joined hands to kiss her wrist. Claire guided the movement, pressing her palm to his cheek. The gesture ensured their eyes didn’t stray from one another and allowed them a moment of clarity.

“Aren’t you tired of running?” her words were laced with emotions so much, it felt like a mental blow to both of them. It was a simple question that he already knew the answer to. Nothing was more obvious to him.

“I am.”

She held his gaze, silent for a moment, then placed her second hand on his shoulder. “Don’t do it again.” she whispered, a hint of a tear shining in her eyes. “We’ve talked about it before, Ethan. I’m tired of going in circles with you.”

“I know.” He brushed the tear away, bringing her closer to rest his forehead against hers. “You don’t deserve this.”

“No, I don’t.” Claire agreed, nodding her head. She leaned away, lowering their hands and resting them in her lap. “You can tell me anything, in your own time. I’m the last person to judge, because I know that some things need that time. But I would never cut you out the way you just did, especially if I knew that you were worried.”

Ethan lowered his head in shame, finding no words to defend his dense behavior. He knew she was right – his behavior left a lot to be desired. Claire continued.

“It tells me that you don’t view me as your equal. You don’t trust me enough to confide in me. Every time something happens, it’s always the same story.” She sighed, falling deeper into her seat. Her hand was still in his, allowing him that form of contact. “I need transparency here, Ethan. We have rules, that you came up with, that you break every time things get tough.”

He winced at the vulnerable edge in her voice. More than ever before, he felt as though the ground was about to be pulled from beneath him.

“You can’t be in a relationship only a little. Or only on weekends. You’re either in it for good, and you take everything that comes with it, the easy and the difficult, or there’s nothing left to say.”

And there it was.

Ethan’s eyes widened. A hand wrapped around his heart and squeezed, making him feel lightheaded. If he ever had gotten a wake-up call before, this one was the loudest one. And the most devastating.

“Claire, wait.” He said, his voice strained when she tried to pull her hand out of his hold. She glanced at their hands, then up at him, her eyes glassy. Ethan breathed out heavily, pleading with his whole being for her to stay where she was. “You’re right. I haven’t been fair towards you.”

“That’s saying it mildly.”

“I know I don’t say it enough, but you’re my person. I trust you more than anyone else, even if I’m utterly useless at expressing it.” He gave her fingers a tender squeeze, his eyes finding hers urgently. “I’m an asshole for making you worry, and an even bigger one for keeping you in the dark. You deserve better, and lately, I’ve been messing up.”

“Can’t say I disagree.” She mused, tilting her head slightly. “Is there a reason for that?”

“I don’t know.” Ethan’s thumb traced her ring finger “It’s as though there is this outside force that’s making me do all those idiotic things, and before I realize what’s going on, everything’s already going to hell.”

“Sounds like you need to work on your impulse control.” Claire said, a tiny grin appearing on her face.

“You’re my impulse control.”

He cupped her cheek with his free hand, stroking the line of her cheekbone softly. She leaned in, just a fraction of a centimeter. Her gaze was a mix of feelings Ethan couldn’t describe – it made him feel a bit more at ease and at the edge of his seat, all at the same time.

“I’m sorry, Claire.” He muttered, voice low and thick, overcame with emotions. Claire nodded her head, a sigh filling the space between them. Her eyes, even though they were growing softer just a moment ago, were now hardened and serious.

“Don’t ever do that to me, ever again.”

“Of course. I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” She cleared her throat, straightening her posture. “If you don’t start treating me like your equal here, I will leave you. There’s only so much I can take, Ethan, and I draw the line at this.” Ethan’s entire body froze at a very real perspective of her walking away. The feeling of ground disappearing from beneath him came back, twice as strong. He shook his head, words rushing through his head. “And that would suck, because I don’t want to leave you.”

“I can’t lose you, Claire.”

“Then don’t lose me. Don’t push me away.” She breathed out, at last, squeezing his hand tightly. The atmosphere between them was heavy and it became difficult to breathe. Ethan knew they were not out of the woods, but he felt a bit less nervous when she cracked a smile. “Do I need to tie you down so you’d stop running?”

“You already did.” he mused, waiting for her permission, then leaning in to kissing her cheek softly.

They missed the second part of the show. He leaned close to rest his chin on her shoulder, his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her by his side – she wrapped her hand around his forearm in return. Voice low and quiet, he finally began telling her everything, sparing nothing. Once the show ends, he’ll follow her lead – after all, he’s never gotten lost with her by his side.

Notes

Am I above dissing PB in a fic, of all places? Hell no, I’m not.

Opera because C is clever like that - and we love throwbacks to better times.

PB is making Ethan act like an angsty teen. And don’t get me started on the ‘prying’ bit. Ma’am, it’s not prying, it’s called caring about your husband boyfriend because something is clearly going on and it seems as though he’s covering someone else’s ass and taking a fall for it. It’s called *concern*.

Thank you for reading! <3

Tagging separately

#ethan ramsey #open heart #playchoices #ethan x mc

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pitch-pearl-void · 5 years ago

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The Consort’s Circlet

Danny set the heel of his palms beneath the circlet and pushed upward at the same time he lowered his head. He made a low hissing noise when, instead of sliding cleanly off his head, the circlet glowed, burned, and squeezed his head all the tighter. The jewel nestled in the center of his forehead burned hotter than it had previously, becoming less like a warmed washcloth and more like a sun heated rock. He gasped in pain.

Princess Dorethea grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away. "Stop this, my lord!"

"You stop it," Danny snapped back, tearing his wrists free. He backed away from the ghost until his back crashed against a wall. His hand went to his hip, reaching for a blaster that wasn't there. Instead his hand grasped uselessly at the rope they had tied around his waist to pull his new tunic against his sides. He gritted his teeth, feeling his face flush. "And give me back my clothes. Guys don't wear tights anymore, you can't just dress me up whatever way you please."

Dorathea sniffed and smoothed her hands down her dress. "I assure you, in this kingdom men do wear 'tights,' as you put it. Are they uncomfortable, my lord?"

Mulishly, Danny muttered, "No..."

"Then stop whining!"

Danny stuck his tongue out. Dorathea bristled, teeth bared, and Danny quickly dropped into a fighting stance he had practiced and used against ghosts for a little over two years, legs bent at the knee, feet flat on the floor, his arms raised in front of his chest. Annoyingly, the tights were as easy to move in as the jumpsuit his parents had made him. He almost welcomed the incoming fight, but unfortunately, Dorathea calmed herself, once more smoothing her hands down her dress.

"This is getting us nowhere," she said, her eyes closed. "You are to shortly become my brother's consort--"

"As if!" Danny shouted, not for the first time. "I'm not marrying a ghost, damn it! Just because you spooks have some sort of ghost hunter fetish--"

"You do not have a choice in the matter!" For a moment, it looked as if Dorathea's eyes were changing, but the moment passed as she once again began petting her dress. "My brother has chosen you as his consort. It is an honor and you should treat it as such." Danny snorted and she glared at him. "This...barbaric behavior is most unbecoming, my lord."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I don't know what you expected after kidnapping someone. Especially someone who fights ghosts every day. I'm not in the habit of rolling over."

Dorathea sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead, brushing against her own circlet. A smaller one, Danny noted, and one without a garish, creepy eye-like stone in the center. Danny moved cautiously away from her, toward a window in the stonework.

"I told him this was a bad idea," she moaned, sounding as though she was speaking more to herself, "I told him humans had moved beyond our rules and would not obey simply because he commanded it. I especially warned him about you and your kin. Foolish. Humans who can fight ghosts are the most dangerous of them all, but the moment my brother saw you defeat the warriors he had sent to distract your town's defender, he would not be swayed. I have lost count of the number of times he has demanded to watch the recording I took of you in battle."

Danny shuddered, his skin crawling. "I had help. It wasn't just me. Phantom was there too." He rubbed at the circlet, wincing as the stone burned. "We work together most of the time. Why isn't he here? Why me?"

Not that Danny wanted Phantom trapped in this predicament in his stead--

He hissed in pain and pushed at the circlet to no avail. "Phantom defeated the Ghost King almost single-handedly. He's powerful, brave, funny--" Tears sprang to his eyes as it felt like the stone was trying to burn its way to his brain. "--Damn it! Look, I just do what my parents taught me! If you ghosts are really infatuated with power over beauty, why is Prince Asshole trying to force this crap on me instead of marrying, like, Ember or something?"

"You have defeated Miss Ember in the past," Dorathea pointed out. "Numerous times."

"Yeah, with help! Phantom's!"

"Yes, and you regularly compete with Phantom in what you apparently regard as..." She raised an eyebrow. "Sparring?"

Danny felt his cheeks warming and hoped it was in response to the circlet's burning touch and not the fluttering sensation in his stomach. "It's practice," he muttered. "He's helping me get better."

"It is flirting, my lord," Dorathea corrected, "borderline foreplay. If strength is such a huge factor in how we ghosts find each other attractive, then what do you suppose it means when Phantom challenges you in mock battle so that you might test his strength while he witnesses yours?"

Danny's face was definitely flushing now. He spluttered and saw Dorathea's expression soften into something more girlish and, dare he think it, affectionate, before Danny had to slap his hands over his face in a weak attempt to hide. "Don't tell me that," he whined. "Oh my god, he's been flirting?"

"For some years it would seem," Dorathea agreed, amused. She sighed. "Not that it matters, now, of course. He waited too long, and now my brother has snatched you from beneath his nose."

Danny pushed his hands upward, tugged at the burning circlet once more before he moved his hands into his hair, pushing his bangs off his sweating forehead. It felt like his scalp was on fire. "Just because you guys caught me," he growled, irritated as pain traveled down his neck and along his spine, "doesn't mean you can keep me. Just wait. I'll get out of here yet."

Dorathea looked at him sadly. "I'm afraid it is not that simple. Your circlet...it is..." Her voice trailed off and her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. More specifically, at his now visible forehead. "My lord, is your circlet burning?"

"Uh, yeah?" Danny taped a finger against the graceful, silver wires twining in a circle around his head, winced, and jerked his hand away. "It started a little while ago. I figured it was a 'ghost and human can't mix' thing."

Dorathea's eyes widened. "No," she said. "The circlet was made with a human in mind, it is perfectly safe, but it should not be activating. Not so soon."

"Oh wow." Danny braced his back against the wall again. He was almost to the window--Dorathea didn't seem concerned about that for whatever reason--but the fire was spreading from his spine to his limbs and the cool stones offered some small relief. "You guys are trying to kill me, aren't you?"

"Not kill," Dorathea huffed, sounding disgusted by the idea. "What use is claiming a human bride only to kill him? No, my lord, it is meant to bring you closer to my brother."

Danny squinted at her, suspicious. "Closer?"

"Emotionally. Like a true consort."

"That's never going to happen," Danny growled. Actually growled. He blinked and touched his throat where the rumbling noise was still coming from.

Danny's skin crawled with revulsion. He had met Aragon, briefly. When he had spoken to Danny it was as if he thought Danny was already his possession, a mute servant who would obey his command. He had sounded so smug. If Danny hadn't been so dazed and on the edge of unconsciousness from whatever warping portal they had used to transport him deep into the Ghost Zone, he would have decked the so-called prince just on principle.

Dorathea smiled sadly. "And yet it is working already if the circlet is activating."

Danny swore violently. He tried to push the circlet off again, but it was hot. He barely felt it on his forehead anymore, but it burned his hands. He hissed, frustrated, and the noise sounded as beastial as the growl.

"It is strange, though," Dorathea said thoughtfully.

"What is?" Danny spat, his voice like gravel.

"You only recently met my brother. In theory, the circlet should keep you bound to the castle until you learn to love him, at which point the circlet would activate and allow you to assume our second form yourself. It's responding far too soon."

Danny squinted an eye open to glare at her. "Your circlet thing must be broken then because the only thing I feel toward him is the desire to rip his damn throat out!" He shouted the last part, the words barely discernible over the growl shaking his chest.

A roar.

Dorathea's eyes widened, her eyebrows shooting up in alarm. Danny was pleased to finally see her take his anger seriously, even if he was losing his humanity to do it.

However, before he could feel too smug, Dora's lips curled into a smug smile of her own. "Would you now..." she whispered.

Alarm bells began clanging in the towers above them. Human and ghost rushed to the window, but Danny was closer and reached the sill before Dorathea. He searched the odd, cloud-filled skies for whatever had spooked the sentries until Dorathea slid beneath his arm and shoved her shoulder against his ribs, forcing him to retreat to the left side of the windowsill.

"Not very lady-like," he grunted.

She sniffed. "As if you have grounds to criticize me."

A black shape shot past their window, cutting their bickering short. It flew farther up and then away from their tower. Danny sucked in a breath. A dragon. A gigantic black dragon. It roared, spewing bright blue flames, and Danny mentally amended, A gigantic black ghost dragon that breathes fire.

It didn't bother flapping its wings but it soared upward all the same, flashing a purple belly and a spiked tail at those below. Was it attacking the kingdom? It was flying the wrong way if it was.

"What kind of kingdom keeps a dragon as a pet?" Danny asked, incredulous.

Dorathea choked beside him.

"You dare challenge ME?" Aragon's voice boomed from above them. From the dragon's throat, specifically.

"Oh..." Danny said weakly. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Aragon is the--He turns into a dragon?!"

"There is a reason he has ruled our realm for so long," Dorathea agreed sadly. "In this form, his second form, he is much too powerful for anyone to challenge. Even me." She touched her necklace. "Though I too have a dragon form..."

Danny eyed her warily. He inched closer to the wall, allowing Dorathea more space at the window. "Makes sense," he said archly. "You being a dragon..."

She favored him with a cool glance.

If she meant to reply--and Danny really hoped she did because he had a snarky quip lined up--the door to Danny's new room banged open. Two voices yelled out in sync, and Danny spun around, recognition already splitting his face into a grin. Sam and Tucker burst into the room. Sam, dressed as a knight, pointed her drawn sword at Dorathea while Tucker pulled back on a bow, an arrow primed and aimed at the princess as well.

"Unhand our friend, you fiend!" Sam ordered. "And stop looking so cute while you're at it!"

"Yeah!" Tucker chorused. Then, "Wait..."

"Sam! Tucker!" Danny took a step toward them, but Dorathea suddenly grabbed his wrist. It was the first time she had touched him, and he gawked at her a couple seconds before trying to yank his arm away. "What are you doing, let--ow, ow, ow! Gees!"

For such a dainty-looking girl, her grip was hard enough to bruise.

Or break, Danny thought, wincing one eye shut.

"Let him go!" Sam charged at them, sword raised.

Dorathea jerked on Danny's wrist, and he stumbled to the side, inbetween her and Sam. Dorathea's arm latched around his shoulders, pinning him to her chest. She raised a hand to his throat and five pinpricks dug into the skin around his windpipe. Danny swallowed. He couldn't see it, but he had a bad feeling Dorathea's hand had just grown some talons.

Sam lowered her sword and held up her free hand.

"Oh shit," Tucker said.

Beside Danny's ear, Dorathea leaned in to whisper, "If those two are here then who do you think my brother is chasing outside?"

A cold sense of dread pooled in Danny's stomach. "What are you--"

"Think, my lord. These two humans couldn't have arrived here, in the Ghost Zone, without assistance. Not when my brother posted sentries at the gate, not when our kingdom is so well hidden. So who did Aragon change into a dragon to chase into the skies?"

Danny's eyes widened. He barely managed to breathe, "Phantom..." before the circlet began sending fire down his spine again. He cried out and tried to reach for his head, but Dorathea's arm obstructed his own and the hand at his throat warned him against struggling.

"What are you doing to him?!" Tucker yelled.

Dorathea ignored him and brought her lips to the cartilage of Danny's ear. "Phantom has come to rescue you, my lord. He is using himself as bait while these two free you from the castle."

"No," Danny groaned, the word more a guttural growl than spoken.

"Yes. See for yourself."

Dorathea released Danny's neck and grabbed his chin instead, her claws digging into the sensitive skin of his face. She forced his head to turn toward the window, and Danny pried his eyes open despite the pain urging him to shut the world out. It was difficult to focus at first, but a bright green beam caught his eyes and stole every one of his thoughts. Small as Phantom was from this distance, his brilliant glow, the brightness of his white hair, stood out starkly against the angry gray-green clouds.

The sight of him made Danny's breath catch, his skin burn.

"My brother will destroy him," Dorathea continued, her tone cold, merciless. "He will burn his body to ash."

"No!"

"There is nothing you can do, locked in this tower." Dorathea taped a claw to his chin. "As so many before, your only duty now is to watch two men fight over you. Galling, isn't it? To feel so helpless while the one you love is slaughtered before your eyes."

"Sam!" Tucker cried. "His eyes--"

"I can see it, Tucker!" Sam snapped.

Danny struggled in Dorathea's iron grip, but as before her strength kept him from breaking free. "Let go of me!" he snarled. His gaze never left the two ghosts battling in the sky above. Phantom was quicker, more agile, but a lucky strike from Aragon knocked him to the ground, and Danny growled, teeth clenched.

"Phantom is no match for my brother," Dorathea continued. "He has defeated many enemies this way. Now that he has him on the ground, he will crush him, burn him. He will--"

Aragon pinned Phantom to the ground and reared back his head.

Phantom could feel his form condensing beneath Aragon's limb--never a good sign. Ghost bodies were incredibly adaptable, but Aragon had Phantom's core trapped beneath his oversized paw, and the bastard knew it. Phantom could see it in the way Aragon had pulled back his lips in a parody of a human smile.

"No!" Danny roared.

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

He means to kill me, Phantom thought somewhat frantically.

It was such an extreme reaction to a little bit of trespassing, especially from a ruler of a kingdom. Those sorts usually encouraged trespassing so they could steal the unwary into their realm and never let them leave. Even Phantom's attack--such as it was--should have been more of a nuisance than something Aragon took personally.

But Aragon was crushing Phantom beneath his foot. He was rearing back his head. Flames were gathering around his maw.

What had Phantom done?

Phantom was the one who should be angry enough to kill, not Aragon. Aragon had stolen his friend, dang it.

Phantom struggled uselessly beneath the dragon's paw. He couldn't even make a sarcastic comment with his chest crushed. He couldn't yell for help from Sam or Tucker either, of course, but priorities were priorities, and he wanted to go out having wounded Aragon's pride badly enough that the bastard would feel it for years.

At least Sam and Tucker made it into the castle...

Something crashed into Aragon. The prince, fully as big as Fenton Works, stumbled to the side, each step he took sending tremors through the ground, but none so much as the shake that shook the ground as a second set of clawed paws landed on either side of Phantom.

Phantom turned onto his side and curled inward, pulling his knees to his chest as ribs and organs reformed into the familiar shape Phantom had learned via the portal accident. It wasn't agony, he didn't register any pain, but it was...discomforting. As soon as his lungs finished reshaping, Phantom gasped in a breath, expanding his chest in a sudden burst. His lungs inflated and shoved the other still forming organs and bones to slot into their proper alignment.

He hated that feeling...

"What is the meaning of this?" Aragon shouted, outraged. "Why would you--"

The second dragon--Phantom was fairly sure it was a dragon--roared at Aragon, interrupting the prince in a rude manner Phantom would have highly approved of had he not screamed and clamped his hands over his suddenly ringing ears. He rolled onto his back and stared up--up--up--at the dragon above him.

Like Aragon, its scales were predominately black, but unlike the prince the underbelly was a bright blue, and the black-scaled arms on either side of Phantom shone an iridescent blue, highlighted by Phantom's glow. It had poised its front arms, its chest, directly over Phantom, making it nearly impossible for Aragon to reach Phantom without crossing those bared teeth first. Phantom assumed it simply a coincidence of the way the dragon had landed after shoving Aragon aside, but then he saw movement from the corner of his eye and turned his head. A tail, tipped with black hair--fur?--wavered up and down, ready to strike a blow on their left side if Aragon tried to strike from the flank.

Even that could have been a coincidence had Phantom not seen the tip of a wing, its underside colored a bright blue, dip down before rising again, proving that the dragon's wings were outstretched, mantled over them like a bird protecting its kill.

Phantom tilted his head further back, scraping the crown of his skull along the dirt until he could see the dragon's head on the end of a long, sinuous neck as it swayed left to right, fangs bared at Aragon.

The new dragon growled, and a voice Phantom never expected to come from the dragon's throat yelled, "I won't let you hurt him!"

Phantom's jaw dropped. "Danny?" he croaked. He rolled onto his stomach, wincing only slightly, and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. "Danny, you can't just turn into a dragon--it took me weeks just to get this form right! Do you realize how long it will take me to match a dragon?"

Humans were just so insistent on their shapes matching. Danny was never going to consider Phantom mate material if he couldn't become a dragon. Personally, Phantom didn't have a problem with it. If Danny wanted to be a dragon, so be it. Phantom would love him no matter what shape or size.

But would Danny accept Phantom? It was already hard enough convincing him to look past the ghost/human thing, how was Phantom going to convince a gorgeous, overly large and powerful dragon to give him a fair chance?

Maybe...if Phantom could get the shape right...it would take some time...and he couldn't attain the correct size immediately, but Phantom could replicate Danny's shape again--with his own coloring, of course--so that he became a dragon the size of a human. Then, if he could convince Danny to stay in the Ghost Zone, he could steadily grow until he matched Danny in size again. It would take a while...but if Danny wanted a dragon as a mate then, hell, Phantom would become a dragon.

... Oh.

Phantom floated onto his feet and glared at the prince who had stolen Danny from him. Aragon was already a dragon. He could be a humanoid ghost or a dragon at will, but there had to be a trick to it. After all, Danny had only become a dragon after being taken by Aragon. And now Aragon was a dragon, Danny was a dragon, and Phantom, who had spent two amazing years as Danny's friend with little hope of becoming more due to the whole "enemies" thing, was the one on the outside.

Phantom willed ecto-energy to his hands. "That is so not on." He floated up to Danny's draconic head and whispered, "You attack, I'll defend?" It was a strategy they had used before on difficult opponents, guarding one another's backs. Phantom was especially good at it.

Aragon hadn't taken Danny to spite Phantom or to convince Danny to become his knight. He had taken Danny in order to make Danny his, uncaring about Danny's feelings on the matter.

Danny growled.

"I hope that means you agree," Phantom said. "I'm not sure how much control a human has over a ghost form like this. Can you even understand me...?"

Danny's large head swung over to Phantom and nudged against him. At first Phantom squawked, swaying, but then he braced himself against Danny's pushing and realized Danny was rubbing his cheek against him. Nuzzling?

Phantom cancelled the ecto-energy in his hands and laid a hesitant palm against Danny's scaled hide. Even through the gloves of the jumpsuit Phantom had copied and inverted from Danny's hunter suit, he could feel the pebbled scales, the heat radiating from Danny, so much stronger and hotter than Danny's normal body heat. Phantom scratched his fingers over the scales and looked up at Danny's eye.

There was a faint white-blue glow that hadn't been there before, an oval pupil expanding into a more familiar circle as Danny stared back at him, but it looked like Danny's eye--felt like Danny's eye. The same dusty blue iris, the same responding burn in Phantom's chest whenever he met that gaze.

The eye half closed and Danny nudged Phantom a little harder. The growl softened into a soft rumble. Phantom grinned. He still wasn't sure if Danny understood him or not, but he seemed to recognize him at least.

"No," Aragon hissed. Phantom and Danny swung their attention back to their enemy. Danny's growl sharpened, matched by a responding growl in Aragon. The dragon prince roared, "I will not be bested by him."

Phantom willed energy into his hands again. "Gee, Danny, what did you do to him?"

Aragon's burning red eyes shifted to him, ferocity and hatred clear in that gaze.

"What did I do to him?" Phantom corrected, uncertain.

Instead of answering, Danny lunged at Aragon. It was a foolish, bullheaded, very Danny-like thing of him to do, charge in without a thought like that, but Phantom sighed and flew after him. Phantom would fight as he always had, at Danny's side, following his lead.

But hopefully this fight would end with Danny returning to his true human form. Dragon Danny was awe-inspiring to look at, but Phantom had gotten more than a little attached to the one that smiled...

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #pitch pearl #pitchpearl #Dragon Danny #Listen; there was a Need

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robininthelabyrinth · 5 years ago

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Fire and Light (ao3) - on tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

- Chapter 8 -

A small group of sects unexpectedly announced that they wanted Wen Ruohan to adjudicate a boundary line dispute – some were affiliated with the Jiang sect, others with the Jin, and they wanted a neutral party. Wen Ruohan was pleased, even smug, that they had chosen him rather than the Lan sect, which with its righteous reputation was more typically called upon to mediate for the other sects.

“Maybe none of them have a good argument,” Nie Huaisang mused. “They’re all awful, and they want someone more self-absorbed than either side to broker something out.”

“Not everyone is awful, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue said, tucking the blankets around him. “Most people are good. Besides, there are some pretty renowned sects involved, so even if it’s true, you shouldn’t say it.”

Nie Huaisang heaved a sigh. “But da-ge –”

“Time for medicine,” Nie Mingjue said firmly, and lifted the bowl to his lips.

Nie Huaisang had a mild case of food poisoning, causing a stomachache, vomiting and a low-grade fever – Wen Qing had determined that it wasn’t infectious, but also, rather grimly, figured out that the source of the illness was most likely a particular treat that Nie Huaisang had generously shared with both her and Wen Chao, and sure enough they were both bedridden less than a day later. Luckily, Wen Qing had had enough time to boil the base for the medicine they needed, and while he wasn’t at her level, much less the now-absent Wen Ning’s, even Nie Mingjue could follow directions well enough to add the final ingredients right before serving.

(Even Wen Zhuliu, who remained Wen Chao’s bodyguard despite their best efforts, had fallen ill, except his version had been significantly worse – more or less non-stop emissions out both ends, and out of self-preservation Nie Mingjue had insisted that he remain in the servants’ quarters far away from all of them.)

Nie Huaisang finished drinking the medicine, making a face that only went away when Nie Mingjue stuffed something sweet into his mouth to help get rid of the taste. “Will you be all right helping out?”

“Of course I will,” Nie Mingjue said. “I haven’t forgotten how to help host a party.”

“No, I meant…”

Nie Mingjue shrugged. Normally, Wen Ruohan had enough concern for his face to prefer that Nie Mingjue avoid showing his own shortly after he’d been insolent enough to warrant punishment, but due to the food poisoning they were short on young masters to greet all the incoming people – and their guests were too important not to be greeted by someone with status.

“I’ll use some powder, it’ll be fine,” he said. “And anyway, even if someone notices, it’s not like they would be bold enough to comment; they’re here to ask Sect Leader Wen for a favor, after all. Who will even pay attention to me long enough to notice?”

The answer, Nie Mingjue swiftly learned, was Yu Ming, a crotchety old grandmother from Meishan Yu in Sichuan who didn’t like the food (not spicy enough), her chair (the first one was too rickety, the second too soft), her peers (idiots, all of them), her drink (they’d served tea and she wanted wine, and then later on it was the other way around), and, most problematically, was one of the more influential sect leaders on the Jiang sect’s side. Not exactly someone they wanted to offend by providing inferior hospitality.

Nie Mingjue ended up abandoning his now habitual corner in the back of the room to dash back and forth dancing attendance on her, run ragged and breathless by all of her demands.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise when she approached him in his corner during the banquet’s dessert course, and he straightened up at once, saluting politely. “Sect Leader Yu,” he said, suppressing a desire to moan and maybe beg for mercy; his legs were killing him. How this managed to be worse than serious saber training he had no idea, but it was. “Is the dessert not to your liking? I can get you something cool instead –”

“Sit down, boy,” she growled. “The crystal cakes are fine, and I’m tired of looking up at you. How tall are you? Six chi?”

“…five and a half, maybe five and three-quarters,” he confessed, sitting down obediently. At this point, she could tell him to jump out a window and he probably would – she had a very sharp walking stick and no hesitation about waving everywhere. No sympathy for her miserable victims, either.

“And you’re how old?”

“Seventeen.”

“Slowed down yet?”

“…not yet.”

She huffed. “That’s all we need, another Nie giant. I told your father that he was making a mistake, marrying a woman that needed to duck to get through doors…that how you got that black eye?”

“Huh?” Nie Mingjue said unintelligently, still caught by the mental image – he scarcely remembered his mother, having been very young when she left, but it was nice to think that it wasn’t just the perspective of having been a toddler that had made her appear quite so towering. “Oh, I – uh – training accident.”

Yu Ming squinted at him. “Same training accident that dislocated three of your fingers and a kneecap, did a number on your ribs, and cut your back up so bad that you need bandages and –” She inhaled. “– at least two doses of bai mao gen to replenish the blood lost?”

Nie Mingjue opened and closed his mouth wordlessly. Finally, yielding under her glare, he muttered, “I didn’t dislocate my kneecap.”

He might’ve preferred that, actually. Dislocations could be shoved back into place with relatively little issue; he’d sprained it, instead. A bad fall from when he’d shamefully broken and tried to run from the Fire Palace, futilely seeking safety, a place where he neither had to hurt people nor be hurt himself.

Not that such a place existed in the Nightless City, of course. He’d only been dragged back after, as he ought to have expected, and then things had gotten much worse, but he hadn’t really been thinking his actions through at the time.

“Dislocated, not dislocated, whatever. Has to be something, the way you’re dragging that left leg of yours behind you when you trot,” she said practically. “You’re a rotten liar, did anyone ever tell you that?”

“Many people,” Nie Mingjue said with a sigh. Most of them currently in bed with food poisoning, except for lucky Wen Ning away at the Lotus Pier and miserable Wen Xu now stuck standing by his father’s side, pretending to smile. “Does it matter?”

��Matter? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Other than going and applying more powder, there’s not much I can do about it even if it does offend your sight,” Nie Mingjue pointed out, reasonably enough in his view. “And no matter how many times or ways you ask it, the answer’s still going to be ‘training accident’, whether or not you believe me.”

Yu Ming poked his forehead with her finger, then his cheek. “And this is with powder,” she said, scowling and rubbing the remnants of it between her fingertips as if she hadn’t believed him that it was there until she’d verified it for herself. “If you won’t tell me anything other than ‘training accident’, will you at least tell me what you did to deserve this type of training?”

“I don’t remember,” Nie Mingjue said, and he really didn’t. All the thrashings more or less flowed together pretty well after a while, and in the end it didn’t really matter if he’d intervened on Nie Huaisang’s behalf or Wen Chao’s, whether he’d played whipping boy for Wen Xu or distracted attention away from Wen Qing – they were all close enough to be proper family now. What he did was nothing more than what you ought to do for those you loved, and he’d die before he forgot how to do that.

“Rotten liar,” Yu Ming said, maybe because she could tell he wasn’t lying, and spat on the ground. “It’s a filthy business.”

“I’m hardly going to disagree with you,” he said dryly.

“You might look a little less ragged if you did.”

He shrugged. “They say people can’t change their essential nature.”

“And what’s yours?”

“Blunt to the point of stupidity.”

“Say rather that you cut straight to the point,” she said.

“Well, you know, sabers have one blunt edge, one sharp,” he said, unable to resist a smile even if it pulled at the bruises around his eye. “I can be both.”

She was staring at him.

“…what?”

“You have dimples.”

“I’m…aware?”

He didn’t quite understand the calculating look Yu Ming had in her eyes – or, perhaps better said, he didn’t want to understand that look, and he was willing to put in a great deal of effort behind not understanding it if he had to.

“Do you want another crystal cake?” he asked her abruptly before she could say anything else. When she arched her eyebrows, he elaborated: “Sect Leader Wen will undoubtedly ask me whether I was taking good care of you, being as you are after all one of our honored guests.”

Don’t tell me anything, he meant. Even if you pity me – especially if you pity me. He has ways to make me talk. He likes making me talk.

“…fine, then,” Yu Ming said. “You said something about there being something cool?”

Nie Mingjue suppressed a groan as he dragged himself out of his seat and headed to the kitchen to see if they still had any sorbet left over.

“– going to be tricky,” Nie Huaisang was saying to a nodding Wen Xu as Nie Mingjue walked by. “Lanling Jin isn’t fond of making decisions.”

“But they are fond of profit,” Wen Xu pointed out.

“The question will be if there’s a way to strike the right balance without giving too much away –”

Nie Mingjue decided to believe that they were talking about pornography. People said Jin Guangshan was into that sort of thing, didn’t they?

Nie Mingjue trained with Baxia at least once every day, and usually more. He found the repetitive actions calming, like an active form of meditation, and he was happy to sink into the mindlessness of physical exertion and forget his worries.

Baxia was warm under his hand, as always – he thought sometimes that she’d never quite adjusted to the warmer temperatures of the Nightless City, preferring as he did the cooler weather of Qinghe.

Perhaps, in time, she would forget it.

Perhaps, in time, so would he.

Forget the cool air filling his lungs, the crisp snap of an autumn day just about to begin; forget the smell of the forests and the feeling of gravel under his shoes. Forget the strain on his muscles from climbing up a steep cliff, the taste of an early snowfall on his tongue – the metallic tang to the water, the lingering smell of smoke in the air even when there wasn’t anyone around for miles.

It felt unforgettable.

But he knew that it wasn’t. In the face of time, all things were ground down into the dust.

He would be eighteen years old this year. Still a little shy of proper adulthood, an unlucky year, if luck had anything to do with his life any longer. He’d been here for four years, just shy of a quarter of all the years he’d ever lived.

Perhaps that was what made him melancholy.

Or perhaps it was only that he had been unable to light incense on the anniversary of his father’s death yet again this year. Wen Ruohan took particular pleasure in ensuring that he couldn’t – he had spent the first year unconscious, the second year immobilized, the third…he tried not to remember.

It didn’t really matter, he supposed, since he’d always agreed in advance that Nie Huaisang would light the incense on behalf of them both, both on the anniversary and on Qingming – they hadn’t ever been given leave to return to Qinghe to sweep their ancestral graves, not once, not even when some of the other sects had complained about the impropriety of it. No one ever paid attention to Nie Huaisang, underestimating how sneaky he could be, and so he’d managed it just fine. Still, the failure to do it himself tugged at Nie Mingjue’s heart, disappointed him in himself - in his failure to be a good son, just as he so often failed to be a good brother.

He sank back into his training by force of willpower.

His cultivation was increasing at an acceptable rate, he thought – shockingly fast by all metrics, but all of his teachers said that his foundations were good, steady as mountains, and his progression through each stage was smooth and unhindered by bottlenecks. The consequences of genius, they said with a shrug.

It was about the only thing that was going in an acceptable manner.

Ma Liyuan had fallen out of favor, as Wen Xu had predicted – she’d failed to remain pregnant despite repeated efforts, and Wen Ruohan took such pleasure in criticizing her for it that Nie Mingjue suspected he’d dosed her tea with contraceptives specifically to set her up for the failure, since he didn’t actually need more sons – but her usefulness remained, so she was married in with all pomp to Wen Chao’s household as a secondary wife.

(She’d been promised the position of first wife, and threw a fit when she realized the change, but Wen Ruohan had reminded her, sneering, that that had been when she’d been a pure and untouched maiden; she really couldn’t expect them to pay such a high price for secondhand goods, now could she?)

Wen Chao obviously had no interest in her at all – she’d tried, once, to make herself up and smile at him and he’d recoiled as if he’d seen a snake, then stared at her and said, “You’re joking, right?” – so she’d taken the next best option and sent her maid to seduce him in her stead.

Wang Lingjiao was pretty enough, with curves enough to make just about any man stare, and pretty cunning to boot. In a different world, a world where Wen Chao had fallen for his father’s nasty little tricks and become a stupid oversexed princeling, a waste of space that would have been incited into fighting against Wen Xu for the sole purpose of being crushed to prove some imagined point of about the necessity of cruelty, she probably would have been able to crawl into his bed and keep her place there without much difficulty.

Wen Chao was a bit of a romantic, after all, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

As it was, when her first few efforts at flirtation failed – or, well, mostly failed, given that Wen Chao held her hands in his own during a garden stroll in the moonlight and told her, with great earnestness, that she was very beautiful and it was such a pity that he wasn’t allowed to think of women romantically until he was fifteen on pain of utmost humiliation and also was she aware of the dangers of venereal disease – Wang Lingjiao pulled back and recalibrated her approach.

This time, she went for Nie Mingjue.

“You’re joking, right?” he asked her.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Is that a deliberate reference to what Wen Chao said?”

“No, just the same idea. I’m not interested.”

“That much is obvious enough,” she said, tossing her hair. “I want you to tell me what I need to do to get someone to be interested. I don’t want to be a servant any longer.”

Nie Mingjue was at something of a loss for words.

“There must be something I can provide,” Wang Lingjiao demanded. “Some service, some use…I’m a weak cultivator, but that clearly doesn’t bother you lot – your younger brother is weak, too, though I’m still a bit worse. I’m not as dumb as Ma Liyuan; I know there’s more you can sell in life than sex, even if that’s easier. What do you want? What do any of you want?”

Wang Lingjiao was from the Yingchuan Wang cultivation clan, Nie Mingjue abruptly remembered. A smaller sect, with too many children, but a standalone sect nonetheless; their children were born as gentry, not servants. No, they must have sold Wang Lingjiao into servitude, though whether it was to get an in with Qishan Wen or simply to get rid of a budding problem – and extremely beautiful young women with poor cultivation were often a problem, especially when their beauty suggested how their mothers had gotten themselves selected to be wives, or, more likely, concubines – he did not know.

“Do you mix your own makeup?” he asked, and she stared at him. “It’s very well done.”

“…yes,” she said, giving him a strange look. “I do. None that’ll fit you, though.”

He blinked, then laughed. “No, I don’t want any; the only use I have for powder is to cover up bruises when I need to be presentable. I just meant that it seems you have a steady hand at mixing things and judging proportions – A-Qing appreciates those qualities.”

“Wen Qing?” Wang Lingjiao asked, bewildered. “You want to send me to a woman?”

“She’s expressed before that she would like to have more female company,” Nie Mingjue explained, and Wang Lingjiao’s expression only got more fish-like as she gaped at him. “A fair while back, in fairness, but the numbers really are skewed fairly strongly against her. I thought you might get along. Be friends.”

“I’ve never had a female friend in my life,” Wang Lingjiao told him.

“I thought – you’re always chatting with the other serving girls…?”

Wang Lingjiao rolled her eyes as if he were being stupid. He probably was. Forget Qishan ways, the ways of the teenaged girl were utterly beyond his grasp.

“I don’t see what you have to lose by trying,” Nie Mingjue pointed out. “I’m not interested, Xu-ge’s too paranoid to get within touching distance of anyone he thinks has an ulterior motive, A-Chao isn’t allowed to touch women for a few more years –”

“Why is that?”

“He’s gullible, and has both questionable taste and sibling-inflicted trauma relating to brothels,” Nie Mingjue explained, and Wang Lingjiao wrinkled her nose, looking a little amused despite herself. “A-Ning isn’t the type to womanize, and Huaisang is too young. Also a vicious cutthroat when it comes to interpersonal relations, so who even knows what type of person he’d like, if any.”

“I’d noticed that about him.”

“In sum, A-Qing is your best bet,” he concluded. “And all the more so if you approach her in a business-like fashion: make clear to her what benefits you bring and how you’ll compensate for the drawbacks, be practical and reasonable, and you’ll do fine. Do well, and you won’t ever need to fear being sent back to Ma Liyuan – or to Yingchuan.”

Wang Lingjiao stared at him for a moment – she hadn’t expected him to be able to figure that out, he thought, since she was just clever enough to manage to puzzle out that he was the heart and core of their little group but not quite smart enough to realize why – but in the end she seemed to take his advice to heart, nodding and walking away.

He hoped Wen Qing didn’t kill him for sending her a terrible lab assistant.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wen xu #wen chao #wang lingjiao #wen qing #wen ning #my fic #my fics #fire and light

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cincinnatusvirtue · 4 years ago

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Romantic Poets in Profile: John Keats (1795-1821)

The first generation of English language Romantic poets stemmed from the late 18th century and is most associated with the names of Blake, Coleridge & Wordsworth. The second generation that followed was born at the tale end of the 18th century and overlapped with the first to varying degrees. This second generation is usually most associated with another trio: Lord Byron, Percy Shelley & John Keats.

While all six of these men are known for their poetic output they are also known for their lives and how they in turned informed their poetry. In the second generation only Lord Byron was a commercial & critical success in his lifetime to a wider audience. Arguably, the celebrity & personality surrounding Byron and the many complex events of his life, notably many scandals are just as well known as the poetry itself. Meanwhile, Shelley’s political and philosophical ideals were much more explicit and in some ways regarded as too ahead of their time and out of place in the era of the Regency in which he wrote. His sometimes scandalous life and indeed the literary acclaim of his wife, author Mary Shelley and her work Frankenstein perhaps also clouded out the reception to his poetry both in his lifetime and later to an extent too. Though both Byron and Shelley’s poetry has gone on to remain influential and highly regarded in subsequent generations, undoubtedly so too did the events of their lives and their political & philosophical ideals. John Keats is perhaps the only one of this trio who’s poetical output was not also obscured by the details of his life. Other than like Byron & Shelley, Keats did see his share of tragedy in life and indeed lived a short life. However, it can probably be contended that Keats unlike his contemporaries is less known for his personality and life and more solely for his poetry and to a degree his ideas on poetry. Yet, it would be a mistake to not say that his life and experiences did not influence his writing...

Early Life:

-John Keats was born on October 31, 1795 to Thomas & Frances Keats, he was the first of four children. His siblings in order included George, Thomas & Fanny.

-He was born in the Moorgate area of London where his father managed an called the Swan & Hoop, where he previously worked in the horse stables next door. Keats was born into a working class humble origin unlike Byron & Shelley who both had aristocratic backgrounds and were heirs to fortunes and titles of nobility.

-John’s parents had hoped to send him to Eton or Harrow like Byron & Shelley but could not afford the cost. Instead he was sent to the boarding school Enfield where he nevertheless was giving a thorough and modern education. Early on he developed an interest like many of contemporaries in the classics such as Greek & Latin & history.

-John was physically quite short in stature at only roughly over 5 feet in height and slender in build but he was said to be physically strong despite his stature and made up for it with a tough demeanor willing to fight any bullies to himself or his brothers. He was also described as having curly reddish-brown hair.

-He was very interested in literature and was almost always seen reading and by age 13 he was quite focused academically. Winning an academic prize in 1809.

-At age 8 (1804) the first of many family tragedies took place when his father fell from his horse after a visit to Enfield wherein Mr. Keats died of a fracture to the skull, depriving the family of a steady source of income.

-Frances Keats remarried shortly there after but left her new spouse and sent her children to live with her parents instead.

-Frances herself died of tuberculosis in 1810 when John was only 14 years old. Leaving all four Keats in the legal guardianship of their maternal grandmother, who likewise appointed two legal guardians in the event of her own passing.

-Keats had decided to enter the medical profession, which in the early 19th century did not just follow a strict course of years of medical school and residency at a hospital with strict licensing. Instead, many future doctors started out at apprentices to others, who served as either traveling or local surgeons & apothecaries. In the autumn of 1810, Keats entered his apprenticeship with Thomas Hammond, the local family doctor. Living with Hammond & his family in the attic above the surgeon’s practice for the next 3-4 years.

Medicine & Poetry

-In 1814, Keats (aged 19) tried some of his early efforts at poetry having never let go of his interest in poetry & literature during his apprenticeship. His early efforts were regarded as imitation and derivative, even in title of his earliest surviving poem “An Imitation of Spenser” named after the poet-author Edmund Spenser.

-1815 saw John admitted to Guy’s Hospital as a medical student, he became a dresser or assistant to surgeons. This sense of dedication and responsibility seemed to be leave the impression to all that he was destined to a life as a doctor which would have likely brought him financial security, something he never really had.

-Finances were always a sensitive issue for Keats who was stubborn in his independence and determined to make his own way in life. His mother had left him £800 for his 21st birthday and had left £8,000 to be divided between her four children upon their reaching the age of maturity (Keats 21st). However, he was never informed by his legal guardian/attorneys about the £800 bequeathment, possibly due to their own lack of information.

-Despite his heavy involvement in medicine, he was increasingly devoted to poetry and writing, which began to conflict with his studies. Nevertheless in 1816 he did receive his apothecaries license, essentially making him a licensed practitioner of medicine to serve as pharmacist, surgeon and physician. By year’s end taking inspiration from other well known poets, namely Lord Byron & Leigh Hunt, John decided instead to devote his life and earnings to poetry rather than medicine.

-In 1816, Keats got his sonnet “O Solitude” published in the Examiner, a liberal leaning weekly paper-magazine publication that was well known throughout Britain for its radical politics and featured modern artists including poets, it was published by Leigh Hunt, himself a poet and radical intellectual. Also a friend of both Lord Byron & Percy Shelley.

-October 1816 through a mutual friend, Hunt met Keats for the first time. Under Leigh’s influence Keats met with radical artists and intellectuals of the day, though Keats wasn’t especially political in his writing. Within month of meeting Hunt, his first volume of poems, called simply “Poems” was released to no commercial success and little critical notice aside from a favorable review in the publication, The Champion.

-Keats managed to switch his original publishers to a new set of publishers who’s past clients included Samuel Coleridge. His new publishers were very enthusiastic about his poems and paid him an advance for a second volume.

-Meanwhile, Leigh Hunt published an article on Keats & Shelley to derive attention to their poetry while also publishing “On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer.” The sonnet which marvels at Chapman’s translations of the Greek author and bard Homer, struck a chord with many in the literary world and while he wasn’t a commercial success, many new literary friends and acquaintances came into Keats’ social circle. They were impressed with his talents and felt in time he had more untapped potential.

-1817 saw Keats leave London having faced too many ailments in the cramped quarters near the medical school as he had at one point intended to return to medicine and join the Royal College of Surgeons but nevertheless his poetic ambitions won him over.

-John moved in with his brothers to the nearby village of Hampstead where his brother Tom had now like their mother started to suffer tuberculosis. John & George tried their best to help their brother but in the days before antibiotics and vaccines were known and developed, tuberculosis was essentially a death sentence, sometimes fast acting or as in Tom’s case long and drawn out. Which combined with his poor finances depressed Keats (who was prone to depression his entire life).

-Hampstead nevertheless allowed Keats to be in a more rural setting more congenial to his writing and close his friends like Leigh Hunt and others in their literary circle. Also Samuel Coleridge, the first generation Romantic poet who on at least one occasion walked with Keats through the woods talking by Keats’ own account on everything from poetry to metaphysics.

A Walking Tour of the British Isles:

-In June 1818, the Keats brothers went their separate ways, Tom remained infirm due to his illness and in the care of others at Hampstead. While John & George departed themselves. John travelled with his friend Charles Armitage Brown intending to take a walking tour of the north of Britain, so as to acquire some poetic inspiration and alleviate his depression. The tour would take Keats & Brown to the famed and picturesque Lake District of Northwest England’s Cumbria region, along with a tour of Scotland & Ireland. To save on travel expenses, they’d walk everywhere except where boat ferries were needed. George Keats and his new wife Georgina accompanied John & Charles part of the way. They was bound to emigrate for America where ultimately they would remain but perish poor and suffering from tuberculosis. George said what would be his farewell to John in Lancaster, England. Seeing each other only once more briefly in 1820.

-Keats & Brown made for the Lake District in Cumbria where famed first generation Romantic poet, William Wordsworth was living. He attempted to meet with Wordsworth at his home in the area but no one was home at the time. The two poets had met in 1817 on a number of occasions.

-Keats wrote a series of letters to his siblings almost daily, serving as a diary and practice place for his new found poetry. In it he described not only the natural scenery of mountains, lake, rivers and glens but of the habits and appearance of the people of Northern England, Scotland & Ireland. Which to 19th century Londoners was almost as foreign as far flung parts of the European continent.

-Keats visited the grave and cottage of Scottish lyricist Robert Burns, he also visited Northern Ireland in the vicinity of Belfast along with the Scottish Highlands and several of the Scottish islands. Keats also made observations of the extreme poverty the average Scots & Irish rural families faced at the time, with most children walking barefoot and that to keep warm meant burning bog peat in smoky huts with no outlets but the one doorway into the home. The poverty shocked Keats sensibilities but the walking tour was pivotal in giving Keats new perspectives & indeed inspiration.

Return to Hampstead, Wentworth Place & Fanny Brawne:

-Keats and Brown returned to Hampstead in August of 1818, after two months of a walking tour. He returned to caring for Tom whose condition worsened and would eventually pass away from his prolonged illness on December 1st, depressing Keats greatly. Its possible during his caring for Tom that Keats contracted the disease himself which he began to refer to as a “family disease” having previously taken his mother.

-Following Tom’s death and George’s moving to America, John found himself alone with the English winter oncoming. He moved into Charles Brown’s newly owned Wentworth Place, a house about ten minutes from his old lodgings in Hampstead. It was here that Keats in the spring of 1819 would write a handful of his greatest known poems, his Odes on which his legacy largely rests to this day. Including Odes to a Nightingale, Melancholy & Grecian Urn.

-Meanwhile, the publication of his second volume of poetry, the classically influenced Endymion, was also negatively received by the literary critics, many of whom opposed Keats for his association with Leigh Hunt and the radical politics he espoused.

-1819 also produced some of his other posthumously best known works: Lamia, The Eve of St. Agnes, Hyperion, La Belle Dame Sans Merci. His publishers were lukewarm to the poems but did agree to publish them in 1820 the third and final collections of poems released in his lifetime under the title-Lamia, Isabella, The Eve of St. Agnes & Other Poems.

-Previously in 1817, he had met an Isabella Jones who appears to have been an early long term flirtation with Keats and likely was one whom inspired much of his poetry that was noted for its sensual language. In letters to his brother George and from glancing remarks from others, it appears likely Keats had his first and possibly only sexual relationship with Jones though the two seemed to never commit to an actual full blown romantic relationship. Their trysts continued until early 1819.

-By autumn 1818 Keats would be meet the great love of his life, Fanny Brawne. Fanny was an 18 daughter of a widow who was friends with Keats neighbors at Wentworth Place. By 1819 the Brawnes had moved next door and John saw Fanny daily. Evidently the two had much in common, including having grandparents who owned inns, family loss due to tuberculosis and interest in literature and theater.

-John gave books to Fanny to read and in time the two were almost inseparable. They appear by summer 1819 to have been informally engaged to marry, “engaged to be engaged” as is sometimes described. Nevertheless, despite his new romance and his productive and more mature poetry two things continued to put limitations on Keats as they always had. The first was finances or lack there of. Keats got his publishing advances but also had to borrow money and was often generous in loaning great sums to others making him indebted. He also had no critical or commercial breakthrough as a poet yet either. He did not want to marry Fanny until he made something of himself financially.

-The second trouble was the ever present danger of exposure to tuberculosis. The realization that Keats was fatally afflicted with the same disease that killed his mother, younger brothers & sister in law occurred in early 1820. Upon hemorrhaging blood in coughing fits, Keats was aware his death was approaching.

-He wrote hundreds of letters and messages to Fanny and professed what amounted to great anguish over loving her and the realization that his poverty and now fatal affliction would prevent their marriage from ever taking place.

Exile to Italy and Death:

-The treatment for tuberculosis patients in the early 19th century usually to ease though not cure the symptoms was to send the patient to warmer climates to ease the burden on the lungs and English winters with cold and damp conditions in confined spaces was usually regarded as too harsh on a patient in Keats state.

-In September 1820 on the recommendations of his doctors, Keats left England and Fanny behind forever, ship bound for Italy with the final destination being Rome.

-Percy Shelley, now living in self-imposed exile in Italy to evade creditors to whom he was indebted back in England along with the goal of establishing his own radical magazine publication jointly with Leigh Hunt & Lord Byron heard of Keats illness and wrote to him with the offer of having him stay with the Shelleys in Pisa & Florence Italy where they were staying. Keats, who had previously met Shelley in England through Hunt years before declined the offer. Shelley was a proponent and fan of Keats work but offered unsolicited advice to Keats on how to improve his poetry in time. Keats found this patronizing and ever stubborn about making his own way refused Shelley’s help, albeit politely and under the guise of not wanting to burden’s Shelley’s family which had suffered numerous deaths of Percy and Mary’s children (of which only one would survive to adulthood)

-Shelley also wrote to Byron about Keats but Keats & Byron whom never met had a more distanced relationship. Byron thought Shelley was too high praising of Keats abilities and in turn Keats felt that their differences were really creative stating: “You speak of Lord Byron and me – There is this great difference between us. He describes what he sees – I describe what I imagine – Mine is the hardest task.”

-Keats’ friends helped contribute financially for his trip and to accompany him was his friend the artist Joseph Severn. Their journey to Italy was plagued by storms and then followed up with a ten day on ship quarantine while docked in Naples due to a cholera outbreak in Britain. From Naples, they travelled overland to Rome arriving in November two months after they left England.

-Keats & Severn settled into a villa next to he famed Spanish Steps in Rome, at first he took daily carriage rides but his bad health caused this to cease. he was cared for by Severn & an English doctor by the name of Clark. Fearing he might commit suicide by being given opium tinctures in laudanum, he was denied any real painkiller leaving him in agonizing coughing fits. Additionally, Clark followed the normal course of recommended treatment in those days including reducing his diet and bleeding the patient with lancets & leeches. This probably weakened an already sick Keats.

-1821 came around and so Keats linger in agony, often to the point of tears as described by Severn, mostly due to the prolonged suffering and wishing to end his ordeal.

-Finally, Keats succumbed to the disease and died in his rented Roman villa on February 23, 1821. He was 25 years old.

-Severn had him buried in Rome’s Protestant Cemetery with a tombstone arranged by Severn & Charles Brown. To this day it is a common place for tourists to visit.

-Percy Shelley & Leigh Hunt claimed that Keats died due to his sensitive nature from reading a bad review of his poetry which in turn burst a blood vessel. Byron while not personally subscribing to that theory did make a sarcastic quip in reference to it in his latest narrative poem, Don Juan. Shelley meanwhile had immortalized Keats in his poetic tribute, Adonais.

-1822 saw Shelley, Byron, Leigh Hunt and others stationed near Livorno, Italy to finally piece together Shelley’s long awaited radical publication which attacked the politics of monarchy in England, an offense that in the 19th century could land one in prison. All three men had liberal or radical leanings and were also supportive of Italian nationalism rising up against the Austrian Empire & Papacy which ruled over much of Italy at the time which existed as multiple kingdoms and occupied territory than one state. For their politics and to avoid press coverage in England over personal scandals especially on Byron’s case, the three had exiled themselves to Continental Europe.

-However, in July 1822, just shy of his 30th birthday, Shelley while boating with another friend was caught in a storm at sea. Having never learned to swim, Shelley drowned and washed ashore days later. He was unrecognizable due to crabs eating his face but for a copy of a Keats’ poem Lamia kept in the pocket of his pants which he was known to have had on his person at the time of his boating excursion. In a dramatic scene on an Italian beach, Shelley’s body was cremated with Byron in attendance. His heart however was calcified and not reduced to ashes, instead Mary Shelley supposedly kept this as a keepsake and had it stored in a cabinet at her home in England until her own death where his heart was supposedly buried with her when she died decades later. Shelley’s ashes however were like Keats buried in the Protestant Cemetery in Rome, next to his son’s grave. Both poets graves are widely visited and the villa Keats died in is now the Keats-Shelley museum dedicated to both men with memorabilia contained therein, including Keats’ death bed.

-With Shelley’s death, the project for a radical publication died away. Byron tired of life in Italy after several years decided to join the Greek War of Independence then underway in revolt against centuries of Ottoman Turkish rule. Byron had hoped to use his celebrity and wealth to help finance Greek rebels and possibly be given command of troops despite no real military experience. Byron arrived in Greece in summer 1823 to find the rebels poorly organized and facing in-fighting. His next several months was coordinating the donation of loans to provide supplies and uniforms but he tried to avoid alienating different Greek factions. In April 1824, having contracted a fever and weakened like Keats with bleeding treatment via lancets and leeches and from this weakness he died of complications to his fever. He was age 36. His remains were embalmed and except for his heart were buried in England.

-Thus ended the second generation of English Romantic poets, all dead within three years of each other and none older than their mid-thirties.

-All three men are routinely taught at school and cited by subsequent generations of poets and writer as influences. Though often Byron and Shelley will be regarded for the quality of their work, their work is sometimes overshadowed by their tumultuous personalities, political outlooks and the many scandals that colored their lives. John Keats, relative to the other two major poets of his generation is generally only regarded for his work and his Odes in particular are regarded as among the finest examples of English language poetry in history, fulfilling his dream to be regarded as one of the great poets of the language, albeit posthumously...

#john keats #romantic poetry #romanticism #19th century #england #italy #fanny brawne #percy bysshe shelley #lord byron #mary shelley #leigh hunt #english language #poetry #1800s

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secretpajamas · 5 years ago

Text

a different kind of rush;

an Ezra x reader fic

pairing: ezra (prospect) x female reader

rating: explicit

genre: romance/smut/and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)

words: 2.7k

part 1 of 2

please scroll to the end to “content” if you would like to know specific smut-related content before reading!

---

Ever since the rush ended, mining work was somewhat scarce. Most aurelac miners—the ones who didn’t strike it rich, had already squandered away their profits, or ones that worked under flat-rate contract and not profit-share—had been swept up by the large-scale mining companies at the Ephrate.

You, unfortunately, had a falling-out with the head of your crew shortly before the end of the rush, and you were left out in the cold with little more than the clothes on your back and the helmet on your head.

Now you operated alone, picking up what seasonal jobs you could. The ones that payed more tended to be more dangerous—you had a good sense as to which jobs would require you to stash extra knives on your person and demand your own private tent. That demand would often eat into your wages, but it was worth the peace of mind.

You were coming up on the last of your income from last season, which is how you found yourself scouting shuttle stations for work. Most of the bulletins at the larger stations were already picked clean. Now, at one of the smallest stations in the Reach, you hoped against hope you’d find a decent job posting.

Mostly scrap haul jobs—one odd request for a live-in massage therapist, and you knew what that was code for—but when you were about to give up and move on, one last blip on the readout screen caught your eye.

seeking experienced miner for short-term contract work (one season). small-scale operation, compensation negotiable. food and board included. helmet must be supplied by employee, O2 freely available. radio callsign alpha-echo-six, will be monitoring channel 07:00 – 23:00 universal time.

It was contract work, not profit-share, but what the hell. It was the best you had come across in your search so far and you doubted you’d find anything better. Checking the screen, you noted it was nearly 23:00—but you pulled out your radio, entered the posted callsign, and gave it a shot.

“This is radio callsign alpha-sierra-two, inquiring about job posting on shuttle station R-Twelve,” you said into your device. “Is the position still open?”

You waited for a minute in dead silence before you heard the line crackle to life. “Hello, alpha-sierra-two,” a thick drawl replied. “Long as you can hold a pickaxe steady, the job’s as good as yours.”

---

When you met him, the first thing you noticed was the shock of blonde hair. Nobody out in the Reaches had much use for cosmetic hair products, so it must have been a natural occurrence of some sort. It struck you as profoundly odd—but also incredibly attractive. You took a deep breath and swallowed down the nervous lump in your throat.

The second thing you noticed—well. It was a little hard to miss.

“Name’s Ezra,” he said with a sly smile, extending his left—and only—hand.

You weren’t sure which hand you were supposed to shake his with. You decided on your left, to match his. It took some fumbling, but you managed a firm shake in the end. You introduced yourself and then let your hands drop.

“Sorry if that was weird,” you said, “I’m not used to shaking hands with my left.”

Ezra chuckled darkly. “Me neither, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Normally, you’d hate hearing that come from a man you’d just met. It would’ve felt like a belittlement. But not with this man—it just seemed to roll off his tongue without a second thought.

Then, you realized the implication of his statement. If he wasn’t used to shaking with his left, the loss of his right arm must not have been too long ago. In this line of work, any number of horrors could have caused it. You decided it was best not to dwell on the subject.

“Allow me to escort you to your quarters,” Ezra said, gesturing for you to follow.

He brought you to the only man-made structure within sight. He must have built it himself. He zipped the entryway door shut and clumsily removed his helmet with one hand. You swiftly removed yours, glad to get the sweaty thing off of you for the first time in hours.

The tent was sturdy and spacious enough to feel a little less like a hovel and a little more like a home. It was certainly nicer than most accommodations you’d been given on mining contract work before. There were two beds—well, just cushioned mats on the floor, but definitely an upgrade from a cot—separated by makeshift room divider in the form of a bedsheet tied between two of the tent supports.

“I can fashion a proper partition if you’d prefer,” he said, “the kid was prone to nightmares is all. Didn’t like feelin’ shut off. Took that tent wall down the next day, put the sheet up instead.”

“Kid?” You prompted.

“She’s livin’ in the Ephrate this season,” he said. “Got a scholarship to that fancy Academy an’ everything. Awful proud of her.” You could hear the fondness in his voice.

“That’s nice,” you said, “she must have a good father.”

Ezra chuckled, the sound tinged with something bitter. “Unfortunately, I do not hold such a grand title,” he said. “Her parents are deceased. I am but her guardian.”

Oh.

“Well, get yourself settled and join me outside when you’re ready,” he said as he went to retrieve his helmet. “It’s not as complicated as aurelac, but it’s still a bitch to mine.”

---

After just a few days of harvesting starstone, you were inclined to agree with Ezra’s statement. It was an absolute bitch. If you so much as tapped it at the wrong angle it would completely lose its integrity. Then, as soon at was harvested, it had to be soaked in a complicated solution of enzymes so it would retain its color—if you waited too long to get it in the enzyme bath, it would turn pale and lose its shimmer. How the hell anyone managed to transport it without massive damages, you had no idea.

You voiced this to him. He simply shrugged. “Not my problem,” he said. “The buyer is arrangin’ her own transport. We just have to hand it off.”

“What is this stuff good for, anyway?” You asked.

“It’s pretty,” he said, “and if there’s one thing I’ve become privy to in all my years of prospectin’, it’s that all sorts of folk will pay a pretty penny for pretty things. ’Specially if those things are rare.”

“There’s no accounting for taste, I guess,” you mumbled, looking at the bright green and orange whorls of glittery stone around the two of you. Ezra snickered at your comment, and the sound of the raspy, almost boyish laughter made your stomach do somersaults.

“I can assume you have no such affinity for pretty things, then,” he said with a grin.

“Well,” you started, looking into those pretty brown eyes of his, “now and I again I might.”

Ezra just arched an eyebrow before returning to sifting through rock.

---

You and Ezra fell into an easy rhythm. He would wake up early to prepare the enzyme solutions for the day’s mining. You both mined as long as it stayed light out, going back into the tent as needed for a ration bar or a toilet break or just to rest your weary head for a minute. After dark, it was your responsibility to prep the filters and O2 tanks. As days turned into weeks, you found yourself finally adjusting to the man’s odd manner of speech, and even found yourself laughing at his dry wit.

And if you were honest with yourself, you were harboring quite the crush.

But this was job, damnit, and even if it wasn’t profit-share, Ezra payed far more than any other boss you’d had for contract work. You weren’t going to compromise that. A sexual relationship with someone who was technically your superior was never a good idea—you didn’t want to get yourself kicked off this planet without a full season’s pay.

This dwarf planet’s climate wasn’t as harsh and unforgiving as the Green. The air wasn’t breathable, which is why oxygen tanks and helmets were necessary, but there was nothing like the deadly moon’s dust you remember from the rush days. The one complaint you had: the weather was always hot, some days painfully so, and today was one of those days. You had both decided to cut the workday short and stumbled back to the tent, sweaty and exhausted.

You wrenched your helmet off of your head and immediately planted yourself in front of one of the air circulators. You heard Ezra’s helmet fall to the floor with a clank and several frustrated grunts as he began to unzip his suit. You knew by now not to offer help—even though it took him a long time to dress and undress, it seemed to be a point of pride to him that he do it himself.

You shucked off your own suit, leaving yourself standing in a sleeveless top and shorts. Cooler now, but still utterly worn-out, you all but flung yourself on your cot. You rucked up your shirt so you left as much of your skin exposed to the air as possible without stripping down to your underwear. “Too fucking hot,” you grumbled.

“Preachin’ to the choir, birdie,” Ezra replied, finally kicking his suit off and out of the way. “Pardon my selfishness, but I’m inclined to take the first shower.”

You groaned, but you had taken the first shower yesterday, so you didn’t protest. Ezra took long showers—you guessed it was because of his arm situation—so you’d have to wait to get all the sweat and grime off. But hey—at least you had a shower. In some of your past gigs you had to wipe yourself down from head to toe with a wet rag.

The shower was attached to the main tent on the east-facing wall: your side of the sheet. Ezra walked by you to access it—he was shirtless, clad only in the pair of black compression pants he wore under his suit. You couldn’t help but sneak a look at him from where you lay—you had come to appreciate the broad expanse of his back and shoulders, his skin kissed all over with fading white scars, the little paunch of his stomach, and the dusting of dark hair that began below his bellybutton and traveled down beneath his waistband. He sighed and stretched before unzipping the partition and shuffling tiredly to the shower.

Seeing him half-naked had lit a spark in your belly. You swallowed thickly, your mind trailing into territory you usually reserved for late at night when Ezra was asleep. Yes, you were attracted to him—but it was more than just a baser instinct. Whenever you got yourself off in the past—or gotten someone else off—it had been quick and quiet and easily forgotten, something to take the edge off, to scratch an itch. You never really fantasized about romance or, Kevva forbid, love, but the longer you spent with Ezra, the more you caught yourself wondering what he would be like as a lover—if he’d hold you gently against his chest after, if he’d press a soft kiss to your forehead, if he’d tell you that you were beautiful.

You scoffed at yourself. Fantasies like that were for naive girls, not for a grown woman, especially not a world-weary miner who knew that men in the Reaches weren’t like that.

But maybe Ezra was different. He was already far different than any man you had ever met.

And maybe you could allow yourself the fantasy.

As you listened to the hum of the shower running, confident in your assertion that Ezra wouldn’t be out for some time—you snaked one hand down under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, rubbing at yourself in the way you usually did—in the way that would make you orgasm quickly. If you drew things out, that just gave your brain time to strike up ridiculous fantasies of Ezra making love to you.

Making love. There you go again. Why can’t you just call it fucking? But what you were thinking of wasn’t fucking—would he gaze into your eyes as he filled you? Would he whisper to you how good you felt, call you sweetheart like he did the first day you met—and nearly every day since?

Damn it, you said you wouldn’t think about it, but here you were. You rubbed yourself faster, just hoping to get this over with and move the fuck on—

“Shower’s all yours,” you heard Ezra’s voice ring out, and you froze. You didn’t breathe, didn’t move a muscle. How had you not heard the water turn off? How long were you daydreaming?

There was no way Ezra didn’t know what you were doing. You didn’t even have the plausible deniability of having a blanket over you. You were so fucked.

You moved your head a tiny fraction to look at Ezra. He had a threadbare towel around his waist, precariously held by a twist-and-tuck at his hip. He was staring at you, wide-eyed and stock-still, as droplets dripped down his forehead from his still-wet hair. You weren’t sure he was even breathing.

Neither of you moved.

Then, Ezra licked his lips, flicking his eyes from your face down to where your hand was still stuck in your shorts, then back to your eyes again. Slowly, deliberately. He quirked an eyebrow at you.

You hitched your hips up a little under his gaze, almost involuntarily. He watched the movement with intensity.

Fuck. Was this really happening?

Ezra brought his hand up to his mouth, rubbing at his lower lip with his thumb. He looked to where your hand was trapped between your legs, and gestured with a nod.

With your heartbeat hammering against your chest, you began to move your hand again, eyes locked on Ezra. His breath hitched as he watched you touch yourself, his eyes intent on your body, pupils blown wide and dark.

You rubbed at your clit, your legs tensing as you brought your hips up to press into your hand. Unable to help it, a moan escaped your throat, and Ezra answered back with a low hum of his own.

Hearing him respond to you made your body light up like lightning. You closed your eyes and sucked in frantic bursts of air. The oppressive heat around you was unbearable, the pressure building in your core even more so. Your pulse roared against your eardrums as you frantically worked at your clit, almost sore now, needing to come now more than ever, needing that release—

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Ezra said, and the sound of his voice had you coming hard, thighs shaking. You chased your high as long as you could, clit nearly rubbed raw, until you winced at the overstimulation, dropping your hips back to the bed and letting out a heaving sigh. Almost in a daze, you opened your eyes, chancing a glance at Ezra. He was staring down at you as if he’d seen Kevva’s gates open up before him. He was also visibly tenting his towel, holding onto where it was tied at his hip in a vise-like grip.

“I’m,” you started, catching your breath, “I could use a shower now.”

“As very well could I,” Ezra replied as he shifted his weight back and forth, voice strained, “an’ a cold one at that. But I’d be remiss to waste the water.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled. About the shower or the impromptu peepshow, you weren’t sure.

“Quite alright. But don’t be alarmed if you emerge to find me in a similar position when you’re done in there,” he remarked, gesturing to the shower with a jerk of his head.

You planted your face in your pillow, mortified beyond belief, hot shame washing over you. Ezra simply chuckled.

“No reason to be embarrassed, sweetheart,” he said. “Close quarters make for... sticky situations such as these.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled as you stood up, walking past Ezra to make your way to the shower.

What the fuck just happened?

---

a/n: this was supposed to be a quick smutty oneshot (oops) but it was getting long so I’ve split it into two parts! Part two should be out by the end of this week.

content: masturbation, voyeurism (but is it voyeurism if both parties are aware of the voyeur-ing?)

READ PART 2 HERE

#ezra prospect #pedro pascal #prospect movie #pedro pascal fanfiction

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thevoilinauttheory · 4 years ago

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The Great Eight

[ In lieu of the Rising event ending tomorrow - and myself, just now finishing it - I had some words I wanted to get out.

I get this type of nostalgia - it hurts, it physically hurts my chest; I feel sick to my stomach, and I just want to cry. I’ve asked others if they ever feel this way, but I’ve never gotten a yes to it.

The Rising always gives me this feeling. It’s be eight years since I first picked up XIV. Eight whole years. That’s a slap to the face, it’s been so long and it feels so short. I wish I could give people the same experiences and feeling I had for this game - the pain and happiness this nostalgia brings me. When I say this game means so much to me, it’s not an exaggeration. This game changed my life - I wish to share it a little bit with you. I touched on some of it in the past, but here I’m laying it all out. ]

[ I first started playing in 2013, when a friend recommended the game to me shortly after the game’s rerelease. They were ecstatic to have another player join them, and I owe them a lot for the experiences they gave me. My very first character was Raramlah Ramlah - she was a paladin, because that’s what I mained in WoW. I realized shortly that a tank probably wasn’t the best way to go, but also that my computer at the time couldn’t handle playing it, due to the graphics.

I gave it another shot in 2014, that’s when I made Danny Harold. He was the first character I ever got to level 50. I absolutely loved the game, when I wasn’t sitting idly for my friends to come online as I had with Raramlah; when I picked it up of my own accord. I remember I was in the hospital when I first picked it back up, when I first made him and leveled him through Gridania. But I was still going intermittedly between it and WoW. I missed the first Rising due to ignorance.

2015 comes around, and I’m in a stressful place. I just started a new job, and I’m finally able to live on my own with little issues from my disabilites. However, my apartment complex didn’t have internet, and so I’d take my laptop to Starbucks and sit there until they closed playing WoW instead. I wanted to spend what little time I had on the internet with the friends I already had grown close to. Year 2 went on without me. But it still wasn’t all bad. Near the end of 2015, Maximiloix Voilinaut was created - and when I started up my XIV tumblr account under “ishgardianscholar”. See, I had made it to Heavensward on Danny when I found out that someone I had met through a friend was starting up a new character for the purpose of RP. I thought to myself “I want an Ishgardian character” - and rolled a new one. It was a new adventure, a clean slate, with a couple of friends I knew from WoW to join me.

Here comes 2016... and WoW had let me down. My disabilites came back full force, and I was left bed bound and reliant on partial disability from my workplace while waiting for SSDI to start kicking into effect. My roommates did little to help take care of the house we were renting, lied to me about their incomes, and forced me to use what little money I was getting to pay for everything myself. I’m short a total of 2000$ because of it. But. But. That was the best year of my fucking life. It ruined me, that year ruined my life, but it was the happiest I had ever been. Lothaire Voilinaut was first conceived and Maximiloix became my pride and joy as a character, I found the class I wanted to keep playing - I made friends, so many of them! So, so many of them! And I loved them, and I still do! I miss them terribly. If I could relive one year of my life... it would be that year. What I would give just to feel that way again - because I had never felt it since. I didn’t realize until Year 3′s Rising came around, how nostalgic just the few short times and experiences were to me. Because I was met with two things... the first song that truly captured me in Final Fantasy games (Prelude), and the first song I ever heard in the game itself (A New Hope). I cried there. Music has always hit me so hard, and I never realized just how much this game meant to me until then. This was how I knew I would stay - that XIV had my heart for good.

2017, during the release of Stormblood, I went homeless. I had wanted so badly to see my first expansion release - and only witnessed second hand “Raubahn EX”. My friends moved on without me, and I was left alone again to start playing. But I told myself already. XIV had my heart, there was no reason to go back to WoW. So I didn’t. I didn’t, and I don’t regret it. This is when I truly started playing Lothaire fully - and when I met my spouse, he became my main. I made it to Year 4, and cried just as much.

2018 - with the loss of friends, did I find new ones. It wasn’t the best time of my life, but I wouldn’t trade the memories for a thing. Year 5 came and went faster than I could blink, but that was it. I heard the music, I remembered my first Rising, I remembered all the times I had before. And I cried.

2019 started off rough. I moved across the country and had a hard time finding a place to live. I got it down, started a new job... and made it to the release of Shadowbringers. I had grown so much since I first started - and the expansion release was everything I wanted it to be, regardless of the issues that came with it (though I’ve been told that it was a far smoother release than the others). I was so excited... and I was not let down. XIV upheld its standards and presented to me a game worthy of pushing onto my friends no matter how annoyed they got with me about it (looking at you @rose-color-boy). Everything about it was a pure masterpiece, people think I’m exaggerating. But this game had done so much for me, that finally, now, I got to witness something I always wanted to. Sure, I didn’t have many friends to start the expansion with... but the story captivated me immediately. Year 6... and I cried.

2020. There wasn’t much to say about it, I was stuck inside all year and I hit a bad patch during the end of it, but... Year 7. It hit me like a truck. It gave me goosebumps, it gave me laughs, and ultimately, it gave me tears. I actually sobbed, this time. Remembering everything I gone through hurt me so badly, the nostalgia was coming in hard. But I knew, in the end, this game would always be here for me. This game had wormed its way into my heart accidentally, and yet I feel like I couldn’t live without it.

This year. Perhaps it didn’t hit me as hard - I still cried. This game means so much to me. So, so much. It hurts, it really and physically hurts how much it means to me. This game made everything in my stressful life so much easier, littered the pain with good memories. I can recall bad places I was in, and associate it with something good that happened to me in the game. 2020 - I got knee surgery... but 5.3 had just released and holy shit. My spouse got a little annoyed at me that the only thing I was listening to was the theme of that last battle (To the Edge). It helped me get through it, the pain and the misery I felt from not being able to walk. 2019 - Work was driving my depression in deep, and I didn’t want to live and continue the pain I was feeling... but I got to the end of 5.0 and only wanted more. I wanted to know what happened next. I still remember that one cutscene, how they got me attached to a minor character so quickly and ripped her away just as fast; and the first dungeon? Experiencing the Trust System, and going through this intense battle on a grand scale with the help of the friends they kept on the sidelines for so long. 2018 - My life was monotonous and I had three other people living with me in my one-bedroom apartment. One of my roommate’s ex’s was now stalking him around my apartment, and work was becoming physically taxing on my legs. But I remember how much fun I had doing maps - and the release of the Tsukuyomi fight? That whole scene there? Oh, wow, it was so bittersweet. The fight was beautiful, the music was haunting, everything about it. Not to mention the ending solo-instances and Ghymlit? The Burn? Omega? The Four Lords? As much as I disliked them (due to my computer issues), even Rabanastre was memorable. 2017 - I was homeless, forced to work a job my body couldn’t handle. I met my spouse, though. I became heavily invested with my tumblr account, doing a full re-write of it all. While I wasn’t much of a fan of the expansion itself, there were some places that really opened my eyes. Azim Steppes? So beautiful - and gotta hand Y’shtola the award for sickest burn. Then I heard my favorite piece of music, and the most nostalgic for me when it comes to SB, Skalla’s theme (Far From Home).

Lastly, I know this has been long. But I thank everyone around me for being so supportive and kind - I may not be in a good place, but know that every good thing that happens will be associated to this moment. I’ll look back on Year 8 and go “my security was compromised, and my anxiety ran high, but there were these people here who supported me on tumblr, that kept my blog running strong”. I will remember my roleplays, I will remember the music and scenery - even now, I’m getting nostalgic about Shadowbringers, and Endwalker hasn’t even come out yet! So thank you. Here’s to year number 8 - 8 whole years of XIV being in my life. It may not have been that long for many of you, some of you, this might be your first year; hell! Some of you, it’s been longer! But know that this community has helped me so much, and I can’t wait to continue being a part of it. Here’s to the eventual tears Year 9 will bring me! ]

#ooc #ffxiv #the rising #sorry for the long post #but there were so many feelings i had to get out before i wrote my prompt #tl;dr #i love you all and thank you for making my experiences with this game the best thing to ever happen to me #thank you for making this game mean so much to me

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disappointingyet · 5 years ago

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The Last Seduction

Director John Dahl Stars Linda Fiorentino, Peter Berg, Bill Pullman, JT Walsh, Bill Nunn UK/USA 1994 Language English 1hr 50mins Colour

Gloriously nasty 1990s noir

[Spoilers about the events of the first 10 minutes or so of the movie]

Is the greatness of The Last Seduction a marvelous accident? (You may, of course, not agree that it’s a a great movie). Why an accident? Because although this was the writer’s first movie, he only has two further credits. Because although John Dahl was a promising director making his third movie, in the quarter century since he’s only made five more. And, most of all, I guess, because Linda Fiorentino gives such an indelible performance, yet by the end of the decade her career was effectively over and in 2009 she officially called it quits.

I think that summary is unfair to Dahl, at least: he’s one of several directors who made good low-budget movies in the 1990s who have gone on to have long, steady careers in the waves of great TV that followed – he’s done episodes of Billions, Justified, The Americans and Dexter, to give just a small sample. As for Fiorentino, I can’t presume to know whether her failure to become a big star was down to bad luck, Hollywood’s misogyny, her own character or some combination of the above.

After watching the film again, though, what I can say is I still think she’s extraordinary here.* She plays Bridget Gregory, who wants the kind of Manhattan apartment that her job as a manager at a telemarketing firm and her husband’s income as hospital resident won’t pay for. So Clay Gregory (Bill Pullman) does a drug deal – which, presumably, is Bridget’s idea – and then she double-crosses him, drives off with the cash and ends up laying low in Beston, a characterless town in upstate New York.

In Beston, she has what’s meant to be a one-off screw with none-too-bright local Mike (Peter Berg), which sort of becomes an ongoing thing.

In a way, the tension of the story comes from a situation where Bridget’s been advised by her lawyer Frank (JT Walsh) to sit patiently until her divorce comes through, but she’s not prepared to be passive. She’s spotting opportunities and using them to build a scheme to protect the fruits of her first crime.

The great JT

What occurs to me is that although the femme fatale drives the events in, say, Double Indemnity (which The Last Seduction references) and Basic Instinct (a huge recent hit when this came out), we don’t see the story from her point of view. The perspective in those movies, and in most others in the tradition I can think of, is of the manipulated man.** But The Last Seduction is emphatically Bridget’s story.

And, doubling-down on that, Bridget has little vulnerability and no warmth or empathy. Mike says to her: ‘I'm trying to figure out whether you're a total fucking bitch or not.’ and Bridget replies:

‘I am a total fucking bitch’.

The closest thing she has to a friend and confident is Frank, and while she clearly enjoys his amorality and the fact that he trades insults with her, she’s also relying on attorney-client privilege. Walsh – one of the great character actors – and Fiorentino seem to have a terrific energy together but since all their conversations happen over the phone, who knows if they were actually even acting together?

Bill Nunn!

So it’s up to Fiorentino to carry the movie and she does. She makes Bridget a compelling and convincing sociopath rather than a cartoonish character. She finds a way to make the spirit of Barbara Stanwyck in Double Indemnity work in a post-innuendo age. And Dahl keeps the film lean and efficient around her. Along with Walsh, there’s able support from Pullman (who, like Fiorentino, was somewhat older than the character he was playing) and Bill Nunn as a private eye. Peter Berg went on to be better known as a director and exec producer than actor, but this is one of his better roles.

A passing thought on the question of genre, even though I know these are just arbitary categories we give movies. Like most critics I tend to think of The Last Seduction as a noir (or neo-noir, if you like) rather than considering it an erotic thriller, which is what the production company allegedly thought they were getting and which its none-of-the-cast-or-main-crew sequel The Last Seduction II presumably is. Part of that might just be snobbishness – I like this therefore I’d rather slot it alongside, say, Scarlet Street than the movies starring assorted Shannons that followed in the wake of Basic Instinct or indeed Jade, the William Friedkin/Joe Eszterhas movie Fiorentino starred in shortly afterwards. (Then again, I’ll make the case for the bonkers but in places briliantly made Basic Instinct – absolutely an erotic thriller – anytime). More to the point, though, is the fact that the sex scenes in The Last Seduction are all short and plot-relevant – it is (like the noirs of the 1940s) a film whose sexual charge comes through atmosphere and dialogue rather than flesh.

However, there’s a clear difference in style from Dahl’s debut, Kill Me Again, which although it was set in the present day had lots of scenes that were clearly trying to evoke the 1940s in their look. The Last Seduction in its lighting and sets and technology is unashamedly early 1990s. There are a couple of things that can be seen as retro nods – Bridget’s hair has a Veronica Lake shape to it, for instance – but its noirishness is much more about the characters and the narrative than the visuals.

Oh, and I like the way that in the outdoor shots in NYC the shots emphasise the height of the buildings and bridges*** to provide a contrast for when we reach low-rise Beston.

(Quick note: if you were born after the film was made and have 2020-flavour progressive sensibilities or are older but share those concerns, there are a couple of things in this film you may regard as problematic.)

Which I guess brings us to the final question: rewatching it in 2020, was I as blown away by The Last Seducation as I was in 1994? Absolutely.

*And I think she’s good in Men In Black and Dogma and – but I want to check this sometime soon – After Hours.

**I’m sure there will be some that pre-date this. But the Wachowskis’ Bound, for instance, is a couple of years after. ***I know, I know, but you can film at eye-level rather than frame your characters tiny against tall buildings.

#the last seduction #linda fiorentino #jt walsh #john dahl #bill nunn #film noir #neo-noir #1990s movies

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xiaomomowrites · 5 years ago

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hiraeth

Legend of Korra | Kainora

Summary: Kai gets tired of this long distance thing first. Full disclosure, the unmistakable feeling of this dreaded distance has been building up for months now, and the only thing that kept the truth stuck in his throat was the fact that it felt completely and utterly selfish to admit it out loud. Even to himself. “Last chance to tell me not to go,” he looks down at her surprised expression. Jinora’s mouth twitches into a bitter smile, humoring him. “Don’t go."

Find this story on AO3 and Fanfiction!

A/N: Wow haha. Every time I take a "short" break from writing, it always ends up being like a year or so. I've been working on this one since Netflix dropped Korra this summer actually, because I remember how much this ship makes me feel things lol. Also because I was totally robbed of these two in season 4. I adore this sunshine ship, but you know me, I have a weird affinity for angst. Anyway, enjoy! - s.a.

hiraeth - (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.

Kai gets tired of this long distance thing first.

At least, that’s what it looks like to him whenever he’s waiting on a response from his busy significant other.

Full disclosure, the unmistakable feeling of this dreaded distance has been building up for months now, and the only thing that kept the truth stuck in his throat was the fact that it felt completely and utterly selfish to admit it out loud. Even to himself.

He’s an airbender too, for Raava’s sake. The expectation is that he is a picture of patience and an expert at disassociating from the pull of earthly ties. It really doesn’t help either that this is not just some simple cookie cutter relationship with a normal girl. In which, maybe a couple months of separation and no contact probably meant it was over. Instead, their relationship is decorated with the complexities of being responsible for a whole nation’s growth and wellbeing, and half of this pair, a master Airbender, was an important figure in this mission.

Kai ultimately understood that the years they had spent together so far built quite a solid foundation for setbacks like this. The communication, the genuine love, and the mutual understanding seemed like the perfect equation for a relationship that could withstand the turbulence of long distance.

But sometimes he just felt like there was no room to be...clingy. And that kinda sucked.

At first, the occasional reunions were sufficient.

There was pep in his step when he worked, knowing that he would always come home to her. Work hours would go by quickly when he knew there was a phone call waiting for him at the end of the day. It became natural to expect an incoming letter (he has kept every single one) that went on about anything and everything in his absence. He always adored the way he could read them in her voice; anyone with a functioning pair of eyes would be able to see the strength of their love in the beginning.

“He must have a lucky lady in his life,” people in passing would say, commenting on the way he held his chin up. It was easy to pinpoint the source of this glow about the young airbender.

Counting down the days was so much easier when the finish line was always palpable.

But that was just the beginning.

The beginning, four years ago, before Jinora became significantly more occupied with significantly more responsibilities. This was before the population of the new air nation had practically doubled, and before issues started arising left and right as a consequence of the Avatar’s disappearance and, subsequently, Kuvira’s attempted tyranny. Things were different before, and so he coined the term, and used it with venom whenever he would spill all his frustrations to Opal.

Although there was a brief period following the fall of Kuvira's army where things seemed to slow down a little, the world quickly picked up its pace once more, sending him off to travel the world and keeping her where she was needed the most.

In retrospect, it was naive to think they would be let off the hook just because they were two teenagers in love, impending doom no longer looming over their shoulders. Of course, they both knew it was only a matter of time before more work and real obligations towered over them and their relationship. But at the time, it was easy to focus on being grateful for the extra time together, until the thought of being separated again so shortly after inevitably dampened the mood. And what neither of them expected was the toll this distance would take on a couple of youngsters in love that feel with every fiber of their being.

Kai sighs, twirling the pen in his hand. The paper underneath his other hand remained painfully blank. It stared at him teasingly and he simply stared back, daring it to make a comment on him not being able to come up with anything to say.

He always had something to say.

“What’s wrong?” Opal asks, materializing beside him and setting down a small bowl wrapped up neatly in front of him. Kai watches as the tied handles of the plastic bag fall softly onto his writing hand and only then does he remember where he is. He glances at his friend, hoping she didn’t just catch him slipping, and replaces the pen in his hand with a pair of chopsticks.

“Oh, I’m just trying to write a letter,” he sounds unbothered, but the young Beifong understands.

She eyes the blank parchment pushed off to the side.

"What was the last thing she wrote?"

"Meelo turned eleven the other day," he answers easily, remembering that letter was read five times over in an attempt to conjure a response.

It wasn't even that her letters were poorly written or empty. Despite the fact that she may not have written nearly as often as before, there were definitely still traces of her heart in every piece of parchment sent his way. Her words were still punctuated with a love that just made him miss her more.

They had just been growing...a little distant.

He hated to admit it, but it was just a feeling not quite explainable, when sometimes there was just nothing else to say. And so sometimes he didn't respond at all.

It was unintentional, of course.

"Eleven, huh?” Opal breaks the silence, “I wonder how tall he’s gotten.”

"He's up to her shoulders now."

“Hmmm, well why don't you ask her how all the training is going?”

“I’ve already asked her,” he says, half of his mouth full, “in like every other letter I’ve sent in the last few weeks. Training is great, that doesn’t really change.”

"Training is going great, huh?" she laughs, an attempt to lighten the mood. “That’s not what I remember.”

Kai let out an amused sigh, "it's probably only fun if you're running it."

They recall the training they had to endure before graduating onto traveling the world. To say that it was smooth sailing all the time was quite a stretch. Opal makes a sound of understanding, before swallowing to speak again.

“I’d love to run training with some new airbenders. Doesn’t that sound fun? You always loved showing everyone up at the obstacle course.”

“What?” he feigns modesty, “Please, Opal, you flatter me.”

She chuckles, content with managing to uplift his mood a little. “When do you think you’ll get your tattoos?”

“Oof, I’m not sure,” he answers honestly, twirling a finger to blow air on the hot food. “I think I still have a few techniques to perfect. Master Tenzin isn’t gonna let me off easy just because I showed potential in the beginning. And Jinora says I still have a lot to work on spiritually.”

"You practice though, right?”

Kai waves a hand dismissively, "yeah, when she leads meditation exercises."

“Hah, well I think if you spent more time focusing on meditating instead of staring at her all the time, you’d get more done.”

“Whatever,” Kai blushes, smiling, and hides his face into his food. “Anyway, it can’t be easy teaching that stuff.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to bother you with the stressful parts,” Opal suggests, though it seemed to do more harm than help when her friend makes a sound resembling a scoff.

He recalls the picture perfect image of his girlfriend in his head, a little hazy now, perhaps from the distance. She was always so strong and responsible, it’s definitely easy for someone from the outside to assume Jinora doesn’t bother people with her struggles. But that wasn’t true for him. Around him, her walls crumble. In the beginning it chipped away slowly before tumbling all at once, and there stood Jinora in her rawest, purest form. To an outsider, Jinora was an incredibly talented master airbender fully capable of taking on the same responsibilities her grandfather shouldered in his late days. To Kai, she was a bundle of insecurities densely packed into a fifteen year old girl that, air nation responsibilities aside, just wanted to spend time with her boyfriend.

“She always tells me when something is bothering her.”

Kai sighs into his food before taking another defeated mouthful.

“Letters are tricky,” she watches, amused, as he idly sat there stirring his food around. The last bite is still stuck in his cheek making him look like a distressed squirrel.

“I just miss talking to her. And I mean really talking to her, not this awkward small talk over letters.” He waves his hand through the air lazily, hoping that the movement conveys his frustrations properly.

“So you prefer some good ol’ quality time,” Opal states easily, shifting in her seat. “Nothing wrong with that.”

She earns a smile from her friend, “Yeah, I guess not.”

“Hmm...oh! Can’t she talk to you with her spirit?” Kai stiffens at the suggestion, and she immediately recognizes that she struck a nerve.

“She’s busy, I think.”

“You think?”

A pause.

“I don’t know. Maybe we’ve just felt really disconnected lately.”

He recalls the first time she found him through this connection of theirs since he had left Air Temple Island. It was incredibly relieving to finally get to speak to her and see her face. They talked for hours that night, and he can still remember how badly he wanted to reach out and kiss her. It would have been so easy to, really. To simply reach out and cup her jaw, inching closer until they met in the middle and Jinora would promptly forget what she was going on about. His lips had tingled at the thought.

But he remembers her smile, so alluring and contagious, and not having seen it for months was such a sight for sore eyes. The young airbender’s radiance was simply too distracting to be thinking of anything else. She had finished telling him something, fully aware that at this point he was just looking at her lips with much longing. Jinora must have understood where his train of thought was heading, because the soft laugh at his smitten expression served as the cruel reminder that no matter how much he wanted to or how hard he manifested it, he couldn’t actually just reach out and get what he wanted.

Really, it seemed like that was the only setback to this method of communication.

But he remembers another time she contacted him like this, and told him that her father says she should refrain from abusing this ability for worldly purposes. And above all else, Kai could only remember the sinking feeling of disappointment curdling in his stomach only seconds after she had told him. But this was Jinora, and she had responsibilities. The next few spiritual visits, much to his displeasure, were much shorter. She surprised him, however, as she continued to seek out his presence. Perhaps there was a thrill to the idea of ‘hurry before my father finds out’ that they both seemed to feed off of, but Kai could tell that she was incredibly torn between him and her integrity.

The very thought of Kai being the reason she willingly goes against her very essence: obedient, honorable, and understanding, is painful in itself. And every time she would bid him goodbye and her figure would dissolve into thin air, he was always rudely reminded of how cold and empty these hotel rooms really were.

So he tells her this.

And he watches as the bright smile on her face leaves so quickly and yet so slowly when he says with carefully chosen words, “Maybe we should just stick to writing letters and phone calls.”

At the time, Kai was so sure this was the best course of action, considering this selfless act was supposed to encourage her to focus on her work and not practice defiance. It made sense to remove himself from that equation to preserve her integrity, but at the end of the day it really wasn’t making him feel better at all.

Jinora pauses for a moment, processing his suggestion.

“Right,” she concedes easily, breaking eye contact, “I should go, then. It’s getting late.”

"What?” he blinks, “Why?"

Jinora hesitates, and it feels like she might be giving him a chance to protest and take it back.

He doesn't.

"You're right, and it's late. You should get some rest."

Kai’s heart is in his stomach and he feels every muscle in his body contract painfully as he tries not to panic and do something stupid, like beg her not to leave him. If silence wins this round, then he has no idea when they'll be able to talk again.

Kai seems to find it incredibly difficult to breathe, and he curses his own element for leaving him at a time like this.

“Yeah,” he breathes, unsure of what else to say; his vocal chords seem to be on autopilot. He swallows thickly, feeling his throat click.

What he doesn’t realize is that Jinora had seemed to take this as rejection, her eyebrows meeting ever so slightly as she bites out, “I’ll write to you then.”

“Of course.”

“Good night.”

It’s only when her form flickers a few times before disappearing completely that he snaps back to his senses, her name leaving his throat in a sort of panic. When the light of her spirit is replaced by the darkness of the room again he realizes he’s on his knees, chest heavy.

He doesn’t get a letter for a week and a half.

Opal watches her younger friend marinate in his feelings for a minute before she adds, “I’m sure she misses talking to you too, Kai.”

“But it’s not just that,” he replies, fully aware that she might have just broken the dam that was holding all his feelings together. “I miss spending time with her too. Sometimes we would just sit in silence under her favorite tree while she read a book, or- or whatever. Nothing mattered. Arguments didn’t matter, problems didn’t matter; we knew we could work through anything as long as we were- as long as we were together.

I told her we’d be okay. I told her...ugh, I told her I would understand when she got busier and needed to focus on work, but now I feel like it’s my fault this isn’t working because I’m starting to get a little impatient. This whole thing is just so...so-”

“I know,” Opal responds, stern, but full of understanding when he can’t seem to find the rest of that sentence. "Long distance isn't easy, Kai. I understand."

She offers a bright smile and it seems to get through to him as he visibly relaxes from feeling validated.

"Oh, right."

"Communication is a two way street though," the older Airbender continues, and his stomach twists at the reminder of this recent rift in the relationship that targeted one of the things he thought they had mastered. "Maybe you just need to have a heart to heart conversation in person.”

Now part of Kai craved this solution. The part of him that understood that relationships require effort and craved her understanding. Perhaps a little communication was all they needed to clear the air, but the irrational side of him whispered a little louder in his ear, and turned him to believe that there was a chance that kind of conversation could end this relationship.

He finds himself back at Air Temple Island a week after his talk with Opal, hoping to get to talk to her in between debriefing and work related affairs.

When she sees him in all his cheesy glory (a panda lily in one hand and her favorite tart from the city in the other), it’s incredibly hard not to swoon in front of her pupils in training. Her expression of excitement and the surprise in her tone made it impossible to remember, for a second, that there ever was any tension between them.

Then he remembers the group of airbenders she was in the middle of training, as all eyes were on them, and he promises to meet her in their usual spot that night.

“Hey stranger,” she greets, settling in beside him under the tree. The proximity immediately brought waves of relief and an unmistakable love that they were both awfully aware had been missing for a while.

“You’re late,” he teases.

“No, you’re just early,” she jokes, worming her way underneath his arm and up against his side like it was just where she belonged. “What brings you here on this fine evening?”

“You,” he answers, unable to fight a stupid cheeky smile.

She laughs, and he decides easily that he missed every part of her. "Charming. How have you been?”

“Alright, I guess. Lots of traveling, it gets a little exhausting sometimes.”

“I bet.” Jinora reaches up to play with a stray long fringe of hair that fell to his nose. “Sounds like you’ve been working a lot.”

“It's alright, just a lot to do. If it's not the heavy lifting it's some sort of civilian related crisis. Being on call is pretty taxing."

“Yeah, tell me about it,” she thumps the back of her head against his collarbone as she speaks, “as the only other master here- for now of course- there's so much on my plate. Even if it's split between me and my dad. Sometimes it’s hard to sleep with all the stress.”

"Sounds like you're doing great though," he brushes some hair from her face in return.

"Probably," she grins, and he chuckles.

"So humble."

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I love it! There’s so much to teach these new airbenders and we’re still getting new recruits here and there. I wish I had more time to goof off, like before.”

“Yeah that’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” it's hard to miss the change in his tone, but when she looks up, he's greeted by a warm smile. It was almost impossible to stay in a gloomy mood when Jinora and all her sunshine energy always found the good in situations.

Maybe that’s all he needed.

Jinora too feels warmth blooming in her chest when his eyes find hers.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

There's a comfortable silence that sits with them. A frog croaks nearby, but it's otherwise quiet. It could have been ten or thirty minutes before Jinora finds herself nodding off to sleep, half of her face smushed comfortably against his chest.

Hard to sleep, huh? He chuckles softly at her form. Maybe this was all she needed. Maybe this was all they needed.

Despite her shallow slumber, she notices the way he's fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve and interlocks their fingers to put a stop to the nervous habit.

“Is something bothering you?” Jinora asks, her voice now groggy.

“No, I…” he thinks about it for a second and realizes lying about this wouldn’t solve anything. “I don’t know, Jin, maybe,” he answers truthfully, passively. He only realizes he let the truth slip when her eyes are suddenly on him.

Jinora sits up slowly and faces him, bright and curious eyes prompting him to finish the thought wordlessly. “This just sucks sometimes, that’s all. Being away from you, like, all the time.”

"Then," she hesitates, aware of how selfish what comes next might sound, "come visit more."

He sighs and watches his own hand play with hers. "It's not that easy. Traveling is tiring, in between all of the work I'm assigned."

"Okay, well, what if you came by every time Republic City is on the way?"

"What?” Kai looks down at her, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion, “No, it's the same thing, Jinora. The point is to travel as least as possible. Why don't you just talk to me more?"

"What?"

Well, he’s in over his head now, there really is no backing away from what they’ve started. He braces himself, explaining tentatively, “You just…I feel like you haven’t really been trying to keep contact as much...anymore.” Kai desperately hopes she can’t hear the slam of his heart against his chest.

Jinora seems taken aback at this accusation and lifts her eyebrows at him, equal parts bewilderment and confusion. She says the only thing her own aching heart could remember, “You’re the one who said I should stop trying to contact you with my spirit.”

"No, your dad said that. You and I both know it was for the best."

"You don't always write back either, Kai. I just assume you're busy, and that isn’t really fun for me either.”

“I just don’t know what to say sometimes, Jinora,” he confesses easily, exasperated. Kai retracts his hand from hers to run it stressfully through his hair, and it takes all her self control not to protest. The distressed teen takes a long, deep breath before continuing. “You’re also busy. Sometimes I feel like I’m just bothering you with my small talk.”

"Me too," her gaze is hard and challenging. He considers surrender for a second.

“You’re not bothering me,” Jinora says easily, tone softening. “I don’t need to have long, deep talks with you all the time. Sometimes, just...this, is really nice. This is enough.”

“I know,” Kai sighs, “but we can’t always have this.”

“Then I don’t know,” the young master breaks eye contact. “It's just been a lot to handle lately.” Her posture straightens and she suddenly feels miles farther from him.

'Is this too much to handle then?' he wants to ask, but the fear of any possible confirmation has a solid death grip on his throat, so he says nothing. Jinora continues.

"I can't just call you when I don't actually know where you're stationed. I figured you knew that."

“So it’s my fault?” he asks, suddenly painfully aware of how defensive and childish he may sound. For a second, he doesn’t care, frustration now at a high.

Guilt hits him for a second, and he almost doesn’t want to acknowledge it. Isn't this what he wanted to begin with? He wanted a face to face conversation. He wanted to be close to her, to hold her, to properly hear her voice again. Kai knew that he wanted a deep conversation to make up for the painful small talk they’ve been having for too long, but now that she's pouring her frustrations out, he doesn't seem to be catching them very well.

“I never said that!” she mirrors this spike in energy. The guilt is put on hold. “I’m just saying-”

"Okay, so how is me compromising even more on my side fair?"

"I don't think you want to start a conversation about what's fair."

"Why not? I'm doing everything I can, running around the world trying to do my job, so that it's easier for you to just stay here and-”

"Stay here?" She looks so taken aback by this, her cool slipping away as quickly as his. "You think I'm just hanging out at home while you do all the dirty work? I am doing everything I can to make your job easier and it...it really sucks, it's so much harder than it needs to be!"

Kai watches quietly as his mentor’s nostrils flare and realizes he doesn't think he's ever really seen her angry at him before. Last time he saw her raise her voice was at her dad regarding the whole master tattoos situation four years ago.

He wants to choose his next words carefully, aware that he might be walking on thin ice.

But there’s something endearing about the way she looks when she’s upset with him. Like the pout that decorates her usually bright features was just begging to be kissed away, and her seemingly distant posture is asking to be held close.

“Why are you smiling?” she asks, obviously trying to fight getting infected by his contagious smile.

Kai reaches up tentatively, encouraged when she allows the contact. He tilts her face upward and taps the underside of her chin once, charming her instantly with that stupid signature grin of his. “You’re adorable when you’re angry.”

Jinora, now flustered, swats his hand away playfully.

"What’s harder than it needs to be?” he asks gently, delighted and relaxed when she lets him hold her hand again.

"That I just miss you. A lot. All the time."

Her eyes find him in the dim light, and it’s clear how brightly they shine in all her passion and emotion. The urge to lean in and kiss her was strong. It would be an easy temporary fix, Kai ponders. She misses him and he misses her, at least that fact was reinstated and it wasn’t an entirely unproductive conversation. He could kiss her goodnight, and it would be in the past. But still, the question of ‘what now’ still lingered, and alas, Kai knew this needed to be solved now.

“So, what then?” he resigns, sitting up to match her, allowing an entire wall of tension to build itself between the thirty centimeters between them, a growing chasm of adolescent feelings and assumptions.

"I don't know," she admits, and it seems more frustrating than it should be. She's Jinora, she always knows. "It's getting harder to balance everything in my life, and it just feels like you’re telling me that I’m not doing enough.”

“I never said that," he retreats, unable to deny that maybe he might have selfishly made it seem that way to her. "I just can’t seem to communicate with you well enough anymore.”

Jinora thinks about the time she had talked to Korra about why it didn’t work out between her and Mako, and the thought of her own relationship’s demise having the same cause shot fear up and down her spine. More than anything, all Jinora wanted to do was resume her rightful place beside him and stargaze in blissful ignorance.

Except now the night sky felt hot, or maybe it was just her that was feeling incredibly heated.

“I love you," she says softly, the way she looks at the ground makes her miss the look on his face when he’s taken aback for a second. “But we can’t just keep goofing off and putting feelings first...and expecting things to be fixed only when I get to see you.”

“You know how I feel about you, is it not enough?” she seemed to say with her eyes.

Her unspoken words seemed to clash with his own, “It really took you five years to outgrow me, huh?”

“Maybe this,” he gestures to the space between them instead, which now felt like a ravine, “this just isn’t…”

He knows it’s a last resort, because he’s just not sure how to deal with these things or his feelings regarding them, because it’s the first time in a long time he was faced with losing something he genuinely cared about. Maybe it’s wrong to file an empty threat, but the child inside him hopes she will deny this vehemently and everything can just go back to normal.

Nevermind the fact that it was selfish and irresponsible. Nevermind the fact that she looked like maybe she was on the brink of tears too.

Dejected, and out of things to say, Kai licks his lips and lets out a defeated sigh. Jinora watches him with wet eyes, her own panic building up behind the dam she so meticulously built.

Jinora, unsure of how to handle this either, (fifteen and an airbending master, but an overwhelmed teenager on the verge of heartbreak nonetheless), does what comes naturally to an airbender, and disengages gracefully.

“You have to be up early tomorrow,” she tells him through the panic, and he searches her words and her eyes for any hint of emotion to mirror the pain that's threatening at his heart.

“Okay,” he hopes she didn’t just hear his voice crack. “We’ll talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah," she keeps her eyes on the ground between them. "We'll talk tomorrow."

Kai moves to get up hesitantly but she stops him: grabs him by the hand and he feels the frantic nature of her actions. He understands her panic- she tells him with just one look- and when he sits back down she assumes her spot in his side.

He’s not sure if it took her twenty minutes or two hours to fall asleep beside him. But the way they clung to each other spoke volumes of how neither of them wanted to let go. In the time that she was dozing off he had enough time to contemplate what comes next, but the cycle of his thoughts seemed inconclusive.

It was refreshing to deal with this in person, yes, because it was easier to understand the mess of emotions this way. But instead of feeling like they can handle anything else that comes their way after this, Kai is left dreading the time he’d have to spend away from her again and the tension that it brings.

“Jinora,” he calls to her quietly, already apprehensive of what has to happen. She stirs slightly. “Let’s go, you can’t fall asleep out here.”

Reluctantly, they walk back to her room. The silence was both comforting and off-putting.

Half asleep, Jinora turns around to bid him good night when they reach her door, and Kai takes a mental picture of this for the road: the love of his life, blissfully unaware of anything but him, eyes half lidded, the soft light of her room behind her inviting him in.

He leans in to kiss her gingerly, resolving to let future Kai and future Jinora deal with this tomorrow.

She pulls him closer by the collar, an apology on her lips that he doesn’t need to hear to understand, and he returns the gesture.

It leaves a growing, comforting heat in his stomach and burns an important question within:

Was this a break up after all?

If anything, the next morning weighed much heavier on both of their hearts. His one knapsack in hand ready to go, Kai sighs and turns around to face her.

“Did you sleep?” she asks, frowning at the dark circles under his eyes.

“Not much,” he says truthfully, and notices she looks just as tired. “Did you?”

“No,” Jinora confesses, playfully jabbing at his chest. “You woke me up.”

He wonders for a second if she would have slept soundly, had they stayed outside together. The thought gets dismissed easily.

“Where are you headed?” She asks, and she watches him fidget with the bag in his hand. Her own hands itch to reach out to him, to pull him close and selfishly keep him here.

“I’m not sure. I was supposed to talk to your dad about it but he was in a meeting this morning.”

Jinora responds with a simple, “oh,” and she wonders if it was still possible to undo all the damage.

“Last chance to tell me not to go,” he looks down at her surprised expression, tired eyes wondering if she really could see past this lame attempt to disguise the pain with humor.

It was half a joke, half lame attempt at trying to confirm if they split up or not.

"It's a little late for that." She watches as a familiar look of pain wriggles into his expression very subtly, in a way only he can disguise but only she can decipher. Jinora’s mouth twitches into a bitter smile, humoring him. “Don’t go," she says softly, her tone matching his.

He doesn't expect the joke to have such an effect on him. So in a panic he plays along.

“Alas, it’s too late m’lady.” he staggers backward slightly, hand over his heart like one of those chumps in her favorite fictional novels. She giggles, and he thinks perhaps he can at least engrave the sound in his mind for the road. Who knows how long he can hold out without the sound of her voice. “Duty calls,” he says, half joking, half biting.

And then she grabs his hand, turning the air into a more serious one once again. “Kai...I-”

“Okay, Kai!” Ikki’s voice cuts through like a knife out of nowhere. “Daddy says your next assignment is in-- oh...uh…”

“Ikki…” Her sister’s scowl seems to be enough to scare her away. They look down at their hands and suddenly the younger sibling understands what's happening.

He squeezes her hand back, bringing her attention back to him. “I’m sorry,” he says simply, certain that she understands exactly what he’s apologizing for, because maybe he’s not so sure anymore himself.

Thoughts in his head are running a hundred miles per hour as he leans in to kiss her goodbye out of pure muscle memory. But her wide eyes and hesitation served as a heavy reminder of their conversation last night and perhaps the final confirmation he was looking for.

It's the exact moment his heart breaks-- shatters, and he wonders if she can hear it too. The weight of her actions causes him to stumble a bit, and instead he switches directions to place an innocent kiss on her cheek, aware of her entire family now in proximity.

And as he steps back tentatively to leave indefinitely this time, she lets go of his hand.

Hiraeth settles in quickly and lingers far longer than Kai wants it to. Far longer than Jinora expects it to. And now that this distance feels so much worse than it ever has, they both wonder if it was really that bad before.

He avoids returning to Air Temple Island, fully aware that there is always a ninety nine percent chance she’d be there. Instead, he sends letters and telegrams to Tenzin regarding work, but always finds a quick witted excuse to avoid an in person visit (because if nothing else, he’s good at weaseling his way out of things, right?).

But with this active avoidance comes the grief of letting go of this home that filled a huge void in his life. The hospitality he received as a new member of the air nation family was incredibly cathartic, making it more and more difficult to remember what it felt like to be alone on the streets by himself. For the first time in his life, he felt loved and accepted enough to change his ways. And now the mere thought of returning to the very place that molded him toward the best version of himself made Kai’s stomach twist up in indecipherable knots.

Instead, Kai thinks maybe he should finally really take this airbending master thing seriously and work a little harder toward those tattoos. There really was no better time than post-heartbreak to focus on his spiritual growth, emotions now thrown into the void. Nevertheless, he wishes he had the luxury of being home. Of being comfortable, and surrounded by loved ones and familiar faces in the midst of stressful work.

Jinora, meanwhile, focuses on training the rest of the airbenders and stays rooted in the Island, with a small hope that maybe he would return eventually.

The first few weeks were the hardest for the late Avatar’s granddaughter.

There was a window of time in which perhaps she could expect a call or a letter saying everything was fine. But the longer she waited, the more it hurt to know that it wouldn’t come. Nevermind the small speck of hope that lingered, unsolicited. It was during a particularly difficult meditation session that she decided perhaps it was time to let that hope go.

Despite the distance and space she was given (to heal, in theory), it was more frustrating than anything to know she couldn't reach out to him even if she wanted to.

She envied his freedom, the luxury of keeping busy in new towns and meeting new people instead of being constantly reminded of their past everywhere she looked. His ghost seemed to haunt the island, eliciting some longing even she couldn’t dispel with meditation.

This was her home, the physical location in which she had grown up. Here, her family resided and now the extension of it too. So why did she feel like a large undeniable part of her heart, her home, wasn't here?

It takes Jinora almost a year to decide that perhaps this pain should have left by now. That maybe it wasn’t just a brief period of grief that would eventually pass. Maybe the connection Korra mentioned between them ages ago was more than they cared to believe at the time. Jinora would be lying if she said she hadn’t tried to project her spirit to him within the last year. Sometimes the longing was so strong, she let the best of the urge get to her. It was always to no avail, however, considering they hadn’t spoken in a while.

It’s on a particularly overwhelming day of work when Jinora hears the phone’s incessant ringing. When her father’s voice sounds from downstairs for her to take the call, she almost wants to smash the telephone.

“Hello?”

There’s a long pause from the other side, but before she can repeat herself, his voice startles her. “Jinora?”

She physically feels her heart drop seven levels into her stomach, and she wonders if he’ll buy it if she says it’s Ikki speaking.

“Kai,” she says his name, just as she had last said a year ago.

“Hey,” he chuckles nervously. “Sorry, I was expecting your dad.��

“Oh,” she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Uh, I can go get him-”

“No, it’s...it’s ok, I just…” he trails off, unable to tell her that this was actually a pleasant surprise. “I was just calling to report in.”

“Okay,” she bites her lip, fully aware that she looks like a flustered schoolgirl with the phone in her hands as if her life depended on it. “Shoot.”

“Right, well uh, there were some bad guys the other day. The usual. I mean not really the usual, it’s-it’s a safe town. Supposed to be safe, err, you know with us there. Ugh…"

She tries not to laugh at his fumbling, but ultimately fails.

"Don't laugh!" he says, almost whiny, but she can hear the smile in his voice and it makes her feel inexplicably happy. "I'm usually more professional than this!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, it's easier talking to your dad."

"It's easier talking to my dad," she repeats to make sure he hears how ridiculous that sounds, "really."

"Yes! Or, I don't know! Sorry, I just, argh…"

"Kai, relax, it's just me," she reminds him, feeling a wave of warmth from the familiarity. Hopefully he feels it too.

He pauses, unsure, but then it clicks.

"Right, yeah," and suddenly the nervous panic in his stomach is easily replaced with the familiar feeling, "it's just you."

She gives him a moment to recompose himself. How considerate, he muses, no wonder he's still smitten.

“So bad guys."

And then he launches into a story, far more comfortably than if he had to report to Tenzin. The conversation takes detour after detour, and it must have been forty minutes or so when Ikki intrudes.

“Who are you on the phone with? Dad’s asking. And mom wants to know when you’re coming down for dinner.”

Jinora’s attention is then split in half, waving her sister’s inquiries off.

“What? I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Ikki teases, cocking her head to feign confusion like the menace she is as she watches her sister mouth words demanding her to leave. She faintly hears the sound of a boy on the phone and her smirk grows tenfold.

“Jinora, stop trying to shoo me away, I know Kai’s on the line, but-” but she’s cut off when her sister shoves her out the door gracefully with a small gust of air. Ikki looks absolutely offended.

“Okay, whatever,” the younger sister shrugs, “you can tell mom and dad I tried.”

“Why are you still up anyway, it’s late!” Jinora calls out to her sister as she closes the door, and it slips her mind that she was also speaking into the phone.

“Oh, uh, yeah...sorry,” she hears him suddenly sound apprehensive. “I guess it is.”

“What?" Panic surges through her quickly. "Oh, no...I-”

“No, it’s okay, you’re right, it’s late.”

“I was talking to Ikki, I-”

“Oh, I didn’t-”

“Yeah.”

The silence that follows is full of awkward remorse for how the nice conversation was soiled so clumsily on both sides. Kai almost wants to laugh.

“Okay, well,” he is the first to break the silence, his voice cracking a little. She tries not to laugh. “It’s late, you should really get some rest.”

“Right, you too.”

A few seconds pass, but neither of them hang up.

“Sorry I called so late-”

“No no, it’s fine!” she blurts, and he tries to stop the smile. “It was nice talking to you.”

She hears him smile through the phone. “Yeah, likewise. Good night, Jin,” and her heart flutters at the nickname she hadn’t heard in a year. Jinora bites her lip hard and hopes he can’t hear the smile in her voice.

“Good night, Kai.”

It's frustrating.

Two months after that accidental phone call and he still feels a smile sneak its way onto his lips whenever it comes to mind. But nothing else really came from it -- not another letter or call or spirit-y visit -- and he wonders if he should just assume that was some form of closure and move on.

Kai understands that blowing off some steam is a little harder for an airbender that can’t just be picking fights wherever they see fit. So the next best outlet is playing vigilante, he reasons, as he crouches atop a billboard sign and eyes a shady looking fellow following a nobleman.

It reminds him a little- or a lot- of his past. It looked pathetic, prompting him to unpack that mess, and for a second the urge to assist this heist flared in his gut.

Kai loses his balance and falls backward from the intrusive thought, rattling the metal of the billboard frame and subsequently catching the attention of the thief. The eye contact shot panic up his spine as they both fled the scene immediately. Only once it was quiet again did he catch his breath and realize perhaps it wasn’t the running that winded him.

The young airbender settles in his room at the inn, exhausted and irritable. He opens a fortune cookie from some takeout he picked up along the way. It says some whimsical nonsense about soulmates and connected feelings, rambling about how if you think about someone a lot it’s probably a mutual thing.

“Whatever,” he throws it off to the side.

He had no idea who he was without any of the comfort he had associated with his new home with the Air Nation, without Jinora.

The time and space within the last year did a fine job of helping him understand exactly what she meant to him.

Before she came along he barely had anything. A name, yes, but that was it. Harmonic convergence gave his life a purpose, but she gave it meaning -- something to fight for. And now the line between those three things is blurred and he’s not so sure anymore what he’s fighting for.

Kai misses home. Not the place he was born, or the foster home that had tried to adopt him as a kid, but the island: every nook and cranny he had spent years exploring with his best friend. He misses the simplicity of the time, when they had more time together waiting for Korra’s return. He misses the way Tenzin would send a warning glare in his direction every time it looked like he was getting a little too friendly with his daughter.

A small part of him misses the past; the only thing he seemed to take with it anymore was the airbending. Which really, was a blessing! But if he cares to admit it, he might miss the thrill of being a carefree thief. And after the incident, it’s clear that returning to that life is just not an option anymore. The idea isn’t even appealing, but nostalgia has a way of grabbing people ruthlessly by the throat and launching them into a time where they thought they were happier.

He misses the days when training was far easier and he was ahead; these days the spiritual training was so much harder than being able to finish the obstacle course in record time, and now he constantly thought he was falling behind. He misses Korra and Mako and Bolin and Master Tenzin and Opal.

He misses Jinora the most, and considers calling the island again and hoping she’ll pick up like last time.

One year was definitely enough time to be alone with his thoughts and deal with everything on his own. He wonders if she would welcome him back with open arms. The fact that this whole dilemma might have created a scar that would be hard to mend fueled the hesitation.

The young airbender sighs, resigning to meditation.

But it seems more difficult to concentrate today, despite the silence that surrounds him. His mind insists on drifting to Jinora, and he wonders briefly if Tenzin would hand the phone over to her if he asked nicely.

But what would he even say?

Before he can consider it any further, out of nowhere in the center of his room, Jinora’s spirit materializes and scares the absolute shit out of him.

“Jinora?” the way her name slips out of his mouth unintended has him wondering how long they really were apart.

“Hi.”

“What are you…” then he shifts gears, asking instead what he’s wanted to know forever. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the Southern Water Tribe, visiting my grandmother,” she answers easily, and it’s like they never broke up at all.

"How are you…” he hesitates, but asks honestly, “How did you find me?”

She looks flustered, though it’s hard to tell without the signature pink that adorns her cheeks whenever she blushes. “Did you not want me to?”

“No no! That’s not it. You just haven’t done this in a while." He chuckles nervously, but he's happy nonetheless. "Guess I just wasn't expecting it."

“I know. I guess I just felt really connected to you tonight.”

The sudden spike in his ego made this a lot easier. “Missed me that much, huh?”

She looks like she wants to punch him in the shoulder.

“You must have missed me just as much.”

“I did,” he says easily, reveling in the way she breaks eye contact, blushing, to recompose herself. “I mean, I do.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Look-”

“Listen,”

“Oh, sorry,” he sits up.

“No, it’s ok, you go first.”

Kai’s hand shoots up to the back of his neck instinctively, suddenly aware of his own heartbeat. He pauses and shifts directions.

“Are you...still mad at me?”

“What?” the look of genuine surprise catches them both off guard. “I was never angry, Kai. I thought you were.”

“Oh, right,” his face contorts at the memory. “No, Jin, I was just being stupid.”

"Is that why…" the question dies on her tongue, and he raises an eyebrow at her hesitation.

"Is that why what?"

She eyes him tentatively but it doesn't look like he wants to drop it. "Is that why you haven't come back to Air Temple Island? You thought I was angry?"

Embarrassment washes over the young nomad. Of course she thought about this while he was gone. And now he doesn't even have a good reason.

"I...yeah, a little." He confesses. And when she laughs, his face fills with indignation. "What's so funny?"

"Me, mad at you?" She says, as if stating it would make it easier for him to understand how ridiculous it sounds.

"I mean, yeah." Kai looks at her in all seriousness, and Jinora is reminded of how real their relationship was. How much he really saw her for who she was, flaws and all. "I can act like a real ass sometimes. As patient as you are, I know I messed up."

She grants him a look, as if he had just answered a question correctly. "I suppose.”

"What about you? Why did you only decide to contact me now?"

A faint blush adorned her cheeks, despite her figure being translucent. Jinora takes a deep breath. Kai waits patiently.

"When I was younger, I found an injured bird just outside my window. Mom and dad told me I was very generous to have spent a week or so nursing it back to health. When his wings healed, mom told me I had to let him go, because he was ready to see the world again on his own. As selfish as it seemed, I really wanted to keep him; named him and everything.

"Every time you left for an indefinite amount of time, I always wondered if I was just keeping you here with me, like I did with the bird. If you wanted freedom, I knew I couldn't really give that to you. So...I just let you go."

"Jinora…" she watches as he seems to be at a loss for words.

She lets him sit in his thoughts for a couple minutes, thankful that the silence was not at all uncomfortable.

When he speaks again, it's not as graceful as he planned. “I guess...I’ve had some time to think about it,” he fumbles, and decides to start from the beginning.

“When you saved me from the earth queen's prison back then, I started seeing you differently. You were like a light in my really fucked up life. And I love that...I love you. I still do."

He revels in the way she blushes at this confession, but ultimately finds himself too flustered to maintain eye contact too.

"But then I got really selfish, and I hurt you because of it." Kai looks down, frustrated with himself, but Jinora knows he still has more to say. So she moves closer and her spirit takes a seat beside him. "I know I can't just keep you all to myself. You're not just the light in my life, but to the world too."

She giggles, delighted at his little speech, "That was corny."

"Yeah, well," he scratches the back of head, half flustered, half proud, "I try."

"Kai," she brings his attention back to her, and remembers how much he loves the way his name sounded from her lips. "I'm sorry you felt that way. I got so caught up in work, I lost sight of other things that were just as important to me."

Kai watches her, enamoured by the way Jinora shyly bites her lip and pours out her heart to him.

"I’m sorry I left. I didn't think it sent that sort of message to you."

She laughs softly, and it illuminates the room. "Yeah, no kidding."

"Ugh, Jinora…" Kai runs both hands down his face, both embarrassed and relieved.

"I've had some time to talk to my grandmother. She told me that Great Uncle Sokka also had a long distance relationship.” The late Avatar’s descendant twirled her thumbs, suddenly looking bashful. “It's never easy."

"It just takes a little work, I guess…I mean," Kai winces at the way he just started speaking without thinking this time.

But there was no turning back now. She waits patiently, but anxiously for his next words. This was it, now or never.

"If you're willing…"

Jinora's eyes widen and her heart skips a beat at the implication written all over his face.

"Of course I am."

And just like before, like nothing had changed, he watches her smile and almost wants to scold himself for how ridiculous and pining he must look wanting to reach out and smother her spirit with affection.

“I hate that I can’t kiss you right now,” he blurts, and Jinora laughs.

“Come home then,” she says, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.

Jinora does welcome him back with open arms, to answer his question. With her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and her entire being so eager to have him back. She smells sweet and familiar and suddenly Kai feels stupid for ever thinking letting this go was the right choice.

He holds her just as tightly, as if to let her know this was real, that he was real. And he feels a thousand pounds lighter when he tells her quietly, lovingly, “I’m home.”

She smiles against his neck, and he doesn’t need to see it to know.

“Welcome home.”

#the legend or korra #legend of korra #lok #tlok #kai #jinora #kainora #kai x jinora #jinora x kai #korra fanfiction #kainora fanfiction #i never know what else to tag my stuff

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glorious-blackout · 4 years ago

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Self-Indulgent Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino/Simulation Theory Crossover Fix-It Part Four:

@rock-n-roll-fantasy @elorianna I promise I will do my best to upload Part Five tomorrow because a) this one is mostly a short wee interlude, and b) I’ve kept you both waiting long enough for what comes next 😉

Hope you enjoy this part! 🥰

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Original Fic

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

It turned out that Alex had wasted four days drifting in and out of consciousness.

According to Matt, he would occasionally rouse just long enough to mumble incoherent sentences or swallow tablets with a smattering of water, but for the most part Alex had been out cold and silent as the grave. Which had been rather fitting, as that’s exactly where it looked like he was heading. Matt had sacrificed sleep himself in favour of listening to Alex’s ragged breaths, dreading the possibility of slipping into a doze only to wake up to silence. George had called him out on it multiple times, but apparently he’d refused to listen; a fact he remained unapologetic about despite Alex’s own insistence that he was an idiot.

It would take a further two days for Alex to regain the ability to walk unaided. Another three would pass before Matt stopped intercepting him every eight hours with a handful of outdated antibiotics and a bottle of water. Mercifully his fever had broken while he slept so that particular threat had already been vanquished, and with Matt acting as amateur physiotherapist, his physical strength recovered relatively quickly.

No doubt it would take far longer for Alex to feel human again. The dizziness which assaulted him whenever he stood up and the pale, sunken-eyed creature which appeared in every reflection was proof enough of that. Even after his legs had finally stopped shaking with every step, the tightness in his chest continued to limit his mobility for several days and he could barely get any words out without being gripped by a coughing fit. Nevertheless, despite his ongoing misery, Matt seemed to be pleased with his overall progress. Enough that he’d gradually begun the process of shedding his mother-hen tendencies in favour of assuming their old rapport anyway.

By the time Alex felt well enough to resume his daily excursions with Jeremiah, a full two weeks had passed. Two weeks of wasted time in which he had been little more than dead weight; time he could have spent hunting for supplies or searching for his loved ones. Alex wasn’t the only one who was bitterly aware of what a burden he’d become. George’s mild dislike of him had evolved into what appeared to be sheer indifference. The man had not uttered a single word to Alex since his awakening, nor had he so much as looked him in the eye. Once Alex had recovered the strength to rejoin the group by the campfire for their evening meals, he’d been struck by the way George kept his gaze fixed firmly on the sand beneath his feet, saying nothing even when Jeremiah visibly lit up at the sight of his approach.

Jeremiah had taken him aside one evening and assured him not to worry about George; had remarked that he was only being a grump because Alex’s sickness had robbed him of a hiking partner. While the grizzled scavenger certainly hadn’t admitted as much out loud, it would seem that he enjoyed having Matt around to talk his ear off during their trips. Perhaps he hadn’t fully appreciated just how lonely the world had become until he’d been forced to re-embark on solo treks. Or perhaps Alex falling ill and wasting their precious supplies of medicine had simply proven his point that having strays around the cabin was a terrible idea. Either way, it seemed he was in no hurry to forgive Alex for being a nuisance.

It probably didn’t help matters that as soon as Alex felt well enough to join Jeremiah, Matt insisted on coming along as well. Jeremiah had argued that they would be just fine on their own and that he would never allow Alex to overwork himself, but Matt refused to be swayed. The debate ended with all three of them wading through the thick heat towards their usual pier with Midnight in tow, with George having headed off on his own long before the sun was up. It seemed an especially hot day even by Alex’s newly adjusted standards, and he was acutely aware of how much longer he was taking than usual. Jeremiah appeared to be slowing his pace deliberately ahead of him, and Matt kept offering the reins to Alex only to be refused every time. So long as he had the strength to walk, he would continue to do so. If he was doomed to collapse in the heat, he’d much rather avoid doing it from horseback.

It turned out there were only two fishing lines to go around, which suited Matt’s plans just fine. As soon as they reached their usual spot on the pier, Matt insisted that he and Alex take turns fishing while the other kept Midnight entertained. Jeremiah offered zero protests to this arrangement and simply handed Alex his usual equipment with a weak smile, while Matt guided Midnight by the reins and took her for a wander along the beach.

Despite the heat which appeared to hold a particular grudge against them that day, Alex found it comforting to slip back into his old routine. His body offered several protestations against him being on his feet for so long, but leaning against the barrier successfully relieved his unsteadiness and focusing on the task at hand provided an adequate distraction from any underlying discomfort. He couldn’t help but be grateful that Jeremiah hadn’t returned to his suggestion of going out on a fishing boat. No doubt the rocking motions of the waves would have resulted in him either puking his guts out or simply tumbling into the ocean depths, and he doubted Matt would have taken too kindly to either outcome.

The simple task of fishing for crabs by the pier was doable enough in his current state, however. They remained as eager to latch onto their bait as ever, and Alex found it easier than expected to raise the line with a steady hand. By the time Matt decided it was his turn to take over, Alex had already contributed four crabs to the ever-filling bucket, earning a firm pat on the back from Jeremiah in the process.

Alex elected to remain beneath the awning of the pier’s humble café during his break. The midday sun had grown especially fierce, and Midnight appeared to be worn out herself from Matt’s brief jaunt along the beach. She rested nearby, having been left untethered to roam as she pleased. Alex settled himself against the exterior of the ransacked café with his legs outstretched, content to simply watch Jeremiah and Matt go about their work. To his surprise, Matt took to fishing remarkably quickly - citing a childhood spent in Devon with nothing else to do as the reason for his natural ability – and it wasn’t long before he was luring crabs into the bucket without losing them to the shifting waves or the edge of the pier. On multiple occasions throughout the afternoon, he turned to Alex to ask if he wanted to swap, but Alex remained happy beneath his meagre shelter and Matt seemed happy enough to let him rest there.

As a result of their combined efforts, the bucket was close to overflowing before the sun was even halfway to the waves. Jeremiah wasted no time in forcing the lid over the top, drowning out the clacking of claws as their victims clambered over each other in their quest for freedom. Having signalled the end of a day’s work several hours ahead of schedule, Jeremiah took advantage of the calm to rest against the barrier and gaze out towards the endless sea, closing his eyes as the gentle rush of waves and distant cries of hovering gulls provided an ambient soundtrack. Matt cast one wary look towards Alex, who simply threw him a thumbs up to indicate that he was still alive, before he too lost himself in the view.

Alex was content to simply stay where he was. The sight of shimmering waters was hardly a novelty to him anymore, though he did appreciate the need to simply bask in silence for a moment. He let his eyes drift shut and simply focused on taking one breath after another; focused on the intermittent creaking of the pier and the constant movement of water beneath his perch and the distant whickers as Midnight trotted happily across the sands.

It was Jeremiah who eventually declared that they should head back, receiving little argument from his tired companions. Dragging himself to his feet took more effort than Alex would have liked, but somehow he accomplished that monumental task without resorting to using Matt’s proffered hand. The sun had become slightly more forgiving by the time they made their way back across the promenade and towards the beach. A gentle breeze announced itself shortly after they stepped foot upon the dusty path, having been conspicuously absent all day, and Alex turned his head in its direction as it brushed over his face and ruffled the messy strands of his hair. The tide appeared to be coming in, bringing the tang of salt and seaweed with it as foam gathered across the sand with every incoming wave.

It was shaping up to be a pleasant evening. Alex knew that was a dangerous thought, but he chose to indulge in it anyway.

George had beaten them home for once. Their approach to the cabin was soon guided by the rising smoke of a campfire, the older man’s silhouette visible as he crouched upon one of the fallen logs. His head appeared to be cradled in one hand - his curved posture making him appear small in the distance - but he straightened quickly as the trio approached him. He offered Jeremiah a weak smile as his friend proudly lifted the bucket containing their spoils, and to Alex’s surprise his expression remained soft even upon acknowledging his presence. If anything, George appeared to regard Alex with a newfound curiosity, his gaze unwavering even when Alex collapsed onto one of the logs with a tired exhale. The unprovoked attention was a tad disconcerting, considering its source. Alex could feel those pale grey eyes drinking him in even when he kept his own gaze fixed to the flickering campfire, though thankfully the spotlight vanished once Jeremiah asked what everyone wanted for dinner.

George had discovered two wild rabbits in his traps that morning, so a supper of crabmeat was swiftly relegated to another day. The pair wandered off to the cabin to prepare a meal while Matt and Alex stayed behind, watching evening’s approach as the warmth from the fire wrapped around them like a snug blanket. At one point Matt raised the possibility of retrieving the acoustic from the cabin, but did not appear to have retained enough energy to follow-through on that plan. Alex may have offered to claim it instead, if he wasn’t in the process of warding off a doze himself. He was grateful that his ravaged body had survived their daytrip, but he was starting to feel the effects of exerting himself so soon after having his strength completely sapped by illness.

He must have drifted off eventually. A firm hand gently shook him awake just as the sun was finally beginning to set, and he stared up at Jeremiah’s amused face before wordlessly accepting the bowl of thick rabbit stew which was placed in his hands. A distant complaint with regard to the local rabbits getting skinnier and skinnier went in one ear and out the other, but the pleasant aroma lured him back to full consciousness and it wasn’t long before he was digging in along with everyone else. True to George’s words, the meat was scarce and leathery in texture, but the addition of tinned carrots and potatoes provided enough bulk to soothe the hunger pangs in his stomach.

When the comfortable silence was finally broken, it came from a rather unlikely source.

“That man of yours,” George started without any preamble. Having been treated as an invalid by the older man since falling ill, Alex failed to realise that his words were directed at him until Matt gave him a helpful nudge, and he raised his head only to find himself trapped beneath an intense grey-eyed spotlight. “The one you’re hoping to find. You said his name was Miles?”

Alex could feel his heart stop. Dangerous hope flooded through his veins, as potent as morphine and twice as deadly. He had only ever mentioned Miles in George’s presence once, back in the first week as they sat by the campfire one calm evening. Their conversation had drifted to the topic of life before the apocalypse, and after Matt had spoken at length about his wife and young children and his hopes to track them down, Alex had opened up about his own desire to find his friends and ensure they were safe. Looking back, he couldn’t even remember George participating in their discussion. Alex had assumed that the older man had zero interest in anything he had to say, yet it appeared he had been listening intently all along.

“Yeah,” he choked out, before closing his eyes and schooling his voice to sound calmer. Unaffected. Showing weakness to George had never served him well. “English bloke about my age. Why?”

The corners of George’s lips quirked upwards and his eyes softened, to the point where he appeared almost as kindly as Jeremiah. It was an expression which did not appear to belong on his weathered face, but which ignited a further spark of hope within Alex regardless.

“I can’t promise anything,” George admitted, his smile almost apologetic in the soft evening light. “But I bumped into an old acquaintance matching your description today. Younger guy, does trades with us now and again. Funny accent. Never actually asked his name before but I figured it was worth a shot, for curiosity’s sake. Sure enough, he said his name was Miles and that he was originally from England.”

There seemed to be a delay between Alex hearing the words and the weight of them sinking in. He could feel himself staring dumbly at George, his mouth slack and eyes wide, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. The man’s description was just vague enough that Alex was able to force himself to calm down. To breathe. To prepare for disappointment which was likely inevitable. The notion that Miles had not only survived the last five years but had remained within the Los Angeles area seemed too ludicrous to be true, but that logic didn’t stop Alex’s heart from hammering against his ribs as though trying to break free from his chest.

“I wasn’t too convinced,” George continued, seemingly ignorant to Alex’s plight. “But I did a little prying and brought up your name, just to test the waters. Poor guy went completely rigid. Almost like he’d seen a ghost.”

If anything, the pounding of Alex’s heart grew even more ferocious. He could hear the rush of blood flowing in his ears and no doubt his breathing had sped up to match it. He knew, deep down, that giving into hope with only a trace of proof was a dangerous game to play. The world was surely filled to the brim with dead men named Alex. There were probably over a hundred Alex Turners in the Los Angeles county alone who were now presumed dead, and he was surely not the only one to have had a friend called Miles. Luck was not a mistress who had ever treated him well in the past; why on Earth would she start now?

He had to know for sure though. He had to meet this man and see him with his own eyes. If he turned out to be a total stranger, at least Alex could go back to square one without subjecting his mind to worthless hope for weeks on end.

“Could you take me to him?” he asked, not bothering to hide the pleading edge to his voice. He was prepared to beg if he had to. George had never struck him as a man who would go out of his way to offer him kindness, and he knew that he was asking a lot of someone who had already offered him food and shelter for a month, but he had to try.

Thankfully, any resistance he’d expected refused to materialise. If anything, it appeared that George had been expecting the request, for he simply studied Alex for a few seconds before putting him out of his misery with a firm nod.

“Already arranged it. The guy accused me of pulling his leg and told me to piss off, but he was amenable enough to a meeting after some persuasion,” he said, a weak smile pulling at his lips before his expression hardened once more. “He stays about fifteen kilometers out west. We’ll head there first thing in the morning, before the sun comes up. That’s your only chance. If you’re not ready when I am, you can find him yourself.”

Alex could have cried from relief right then and there. The severity of George’s warning barely held the power to faze him. He knew deep down that he would get little sleep tonight and would be wide awake precisely when George needed him to be.

Knowing full well that his voice would fail him if he tried to speak, he responded with a nod and a hesitant smile which no doubt betrayed his nerves regardless.

Sitting beside George, Alex caught Jeremiah glancing back and forth between them with a soft smile which failed to disguise the tinge of sadness in his eyes. Despite Alex’s initial assumption that both of their hosts would take this development as a good thing – an opportunity to regain their privacy and return to their normal lives – neither of them seemed particularly upbeat about the probability of saying goodbye to him tomorrow.

He turned his attention to Matt only to find his own disbelief mirrored in his friend’s blue eyes, alongside a degree of melancholy. The radio-silence about his own loved ones must have been tearing him apart, but he threw an arm over Alex’s shoulder and shared a hopeful grin with him regardless.

Alex knew then that he didn’t even need to ask. Matt would be right by his side when they set off in the morning.

#arctic monkeys #muse #Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino #Simulation Theory #my fic

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blucmoon · 4 years ago

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━ ☾ ⊹ ( gabbi garcia, cis female , she/her ) say hello to ALTHEA CORTEZ, the TWENTY FOUR YEAR OLD that seems to have a lot in HER hands with HER job as an EVENT PLANNER! beyond that, they seemed METICULOUS AND GENEROUS upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of VOLATILE AND STUBBORN though. SHE seems to live in a SHARED VILLA in SIARGAO, PHILIPPINES. anything else to add? oh, yeah! she also LEFT EVERYTHING BEHIND IN VANCOUVER FOR A JOB OPPORTUNITY IN THE PHILIPPINES!

basic information

full name: althea cortez

nickname(s): ally, thea

age: twenty four

date of birth: december 2, 1996

birthplace: makati, philippines

hometown: vancouver, canada

current location: siargao, philippines

ethnicity: filipino

nationality: canadian

gender: cisfemale

pronouns: she / her

orientation: demiromantic, heterosexual

religion: agnostic

education: graduated high school, various courses at a community college

occupation: event planner

physical appearance

faceclaim: gabbi garcia

hair colour: naturally dark brown, has never dyed it in bold colours. the most she’s done is getting some blonde streaks upon arriving at siargao but soon got bored of them and dyed back to a color similar to her natural one.

eye colour: chocolate, does like to wear coloured contacts when going out or on special occasions.

height: 5 ft 6.5 in (1.69 m)

weight: 132 lbs ( 60 kg )

tattoos: none yet.

piercings: standard and upper lobe in both ears, helix on the left ear.

personality

label: the restless

positive traits: meticulous, ebullient, outgoing, loyal, generous, helpful, ambitious,

negative traits: volatile, conflict-averse, fluctuating self-esteem and confidence, secretive, reserved, quick-tempered.

hobbies: calligraphy, baking, swimming, hiking.

habits: talking to herself, drumming fingers on every surface, chewing the ends of pens, flicking pens/pencils/anything between her fingers, doodle on the corners and margins of her planner, humming when listening to music, tapping her feet when she’s impatient, rubbing her neck when she’s nervous, tugging loose threads when she’s anxious, not listening to others when she’s deep in thought.

zodiac sign: sagittarius sun, leo moon, virgo rising

mbti: esfj-a “the consul”

temperament: sanguine

hogwarts house: ravenclaw

moral alignment: chaotic good

anger: hot

approachability: friendly

sociability: loves being around people, feeling most energized when she’s having deep conversations about topics that interest her. one to not let the conversations die and always finding ways to either continue or spark a new topic, getting so involved in this that she often loses track of time. she’s easily bored if not involved in social activities and dislikes solitude. it’s not unusual to feel as if you’ve known althea for years after the first meeting as she welcomes everyone with open arms and loves making people feel seen and heard.

detailed personality

restless, cheerful and friendly, althea will happily involve anyone into whatever interest she has or will give up her free time to be engaged in the things her beloved ones are interested in. generous with her time, effort, and emotions, she often takes on the concerns of others as if they were her own, and will attempt to put her energy to help others, eager to please and provide.

secretly, althea needs approval, recognition and admiration; she wants to be seen. goes out of her way to notice what is needed and feels even more motivated when others acknowledge her efforts and express their appreciation. though, sometimes she’s so focused on others that she lacks to pay attention to her own unmet needs and feelings.

however, she’s selective with her friends and is not overly influenced by them. when she feels comfortable, she does like being the center of attention. that is, she likes being in the “spotlight” in the comfort of her own home and with family and friends. enjoys entertaining others and is more able than most people to get others talking, simply because she’s very receptive and sympathetic with an innate ability to pick up others’ feelings and body language.

althea possesses an unwavering ambition: once she’s set on a particular path, she’s not coming back until her purpose is fulfilled. likes to get things done and has a knack for handling a wide variety of tasks at once; a tendency to take on perhaps too much at the same time. very easily distracted and her attention span can be quite short.

doesn’t have an inherent love for routine and established anything’s, but does recognise its value and purpose when it comes to be productive. she’s learnt to be a little more organized and does prefer to stick to certain plans, mostly when it comes to her job due its nature. easily gets stressed when things don’t meet up to expectations. althea sees problems clearly and is able to delegate easily in order to solve them. likes a sense of harmony and cooperation around her, and she’s energetically dedicated to her responsibilities.

able to adapt quite easily to wherever she’s in and, with an outstanding memory, she tends to pick up a lot of information from her environment to facilitate this. althea can be brave, knowing how and what risks to take. she’s able to bend the rules from time to time if she feels the need to do so.

can be a challenge to predict from time to time, even by the closest people to her. can seem very loyal and steady for a while, but althea has a tendency to build up a store of impulsive energy that explodes without warning, taking her interests in bold, new directions.

has always had problems expressing herself, particularly verbally, and much prefers to listen to others than being listened to. whatever she might say is self-censored to some degree. it’s difficult for althea to pour out her emotions because she’s always aware of what others might think of her with what she says, not wanting to accidentally come across as tactless and judgmental. very careful with what she reveals to others.

she can get easily wounded, and when this happens, her emotions are not contained as she “wears her heart on her sleeve” but will more often than not avoid burdening others with her own problems and concerns. instead, she likes to channel these dramatic and vibrant emotions into one of her multiple hobbies, mostly baking (she stress-bakes).

to avoid feeling a deep sense of loneliness, she finds ways to connect and be of service to others. she has an innate sense of what to say or do for people to feel seen and admired, taking pride in her ability to comfort and support others. she’s constantly moving away from feelings of worthlessness and towards feelings of connection and appreciation.

background

born as the middle sibling out of the three, althea and her family moved from makati to vancouver when she was almost one year old due to a job opportunity presented to her father.

had a really average childhood with all the pressure being poured onto her sister, five years older than her, and pushed to become the example of the other two. all the while her brother who’s only 2 years younger than althea clearly became the unspoken favorite. being the middle sibling was easy most of the time. so long she didn’t do any extraordinary things, neither good nor bad, althea was able to remain below her parent’s radar.

regular high school experience: neither remarkable nor reprobatory grades, a “steady” friends circle (as much as it can be when a teenager), dated a couple of times, part of the swimming team. by junior year, college never figured in her plans (or the lack thereof).

her parents didn’t quite like the idea but after getting help from her sister who talked to them, they didn’t complain as long as she got a job or helped her mom with hers (she was a seamstress), which is what she ended up doing.

it comes as a stroke of luck when her mother gets a call asking if she could help fix a bride’s dress at the wedding’s venue. her mother, quite busy at the moment, sent althea instead and she quickly fixed it before the ceremony started.

about to depart, crisis after crisis started presenting and it was obvious they were a little understaffed (althea learned a couple of years later that two of the assistants got sick on that same day).

with a little bit of free time in her hands, althea offered her help. by the time every crisis had been averted and she was ready to leave, the event planner took notice of her and offered to become an assistant in her company. at nineteen, thea takes the job.

the company is not as big as many others but still renowned enough to have a steady income of clients and at least one event every couple of weeks. thea was pretty much an errand girl at first and they often sent her to take courses or workshops to learn and hone some skills. (calligraphy, flower arranger, hospitality, etc. she even took an event planning course that went for 9 months, successfully getting a certificate.)

eventually, her opinions start being taken more and more into consideration and she takes more of an active role in the planning process. at twenty one, thea planned her very first wedding (a small one, no more than 50 guests).

she pours all her energy and time into this new phase of her job, loving every second of it and thriving for the compliments she got after every successful event. weddings were mostly her niche, she even planned her sister’s wedding; it doesn’t come as a surprise that she announces the engagement with her college sweetheart, it was actually quite expected. (her parents even implied more than once that they were taking too long).

it’s in one of her events, a birthday party for some socialite, that thea meets the guy that would become her boyfriend for the next two years. despite being surrounded by wealth and pretentiousness, he was unlike any of his peers: sweet, attentive, decent and didn’t pride himself on his parents’ money. it was quite easy to talk and be with him, thus they started dating shortly after.

her life seems to be perfect in every aspect: a good job, more than decent income, a healthy relationship with her boyfriend… her parents couldn’t find anything to complain about… for now.

it’s at the peak of her career as an event planner, that her parents become more and more insisting on questioning her about her status with her boyfriend. “after planning so many weddings, shouldn’t you start planning your own?” asked her mother, which thea always dismissed or ignored to avoid any fights.

truth is, even if weddings were a prominent aspect of her day to day, being a bride and going through the whole ceremony wasn’t something she saw happening in the foreseeable future, and her boyfriend seemed to be on the same page… or at least it was an unspoken thing between the two.

it’s the day before her 23rd birthday that she finds by mistake a ring box in her boyfriend’s apartment. knowing exactly what it meant, thea cracked the box open, finding the most beautiful engagement ring she’s ever seen. and it made her feel sick.

putting it back in its place, the whole night thea acted as if nothing happened despite the emotional turmoil she was going through.

when getting home, the first thing she did was try to find an email from one of her friends who told her about some camp in the philippines that could use an event planner. finally finding it buried deep within her inbox felt like all the answers to her problems were in those couple of lines.

in the middle of the night and with a dire need for adventure, thea left with a bag full of her belongings and all of her savings after booking the next flight to the philippines.

#INFO.TXT #ALTHEA.EXE #LOC.SIARGAO

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thotsforvillainrights · 5 years ago

Text

~Perfect Birthday~

Au: Kaishi

Part: twelve

Theme: Fluff? Comedy? Who knows lol

(These 2 are going on an adventure)

"Buttercream? No that wont do. Vanilla with a touch of banana or Strawberry? Shoot! What about...hmmm...." You focused on the ingredients so hard that you were developing a light headache. Meanwhile, your husband sat across from you at the kitchen table, scrolling through his laptop for themes and present ideas. "Y/N, just settle on chocolate and call it a day." Kai announced while his eyes hovered on a Circus theme. He shuddered lightly at the thought of animals being involved. 'Absolutely not' he thought to himself. You sighed and put the ingredients list down. "I cant settle on Chocolate. I'm worried that someone might have an allergy to it. I'm also so worried about the vegan adults that might be here. What about the picky eaters too? Kai, I feel like I'm going insane right now." You gripped the sides of the chair you sat on. He peeked up at you and notices your incoming distress. He sighed and stood up to move behind you. He softly gripped each of your shoulders and began to give you an impromptu massage. "Stop worrying so much about it so much, Angel. Just do chocolate cake since its the brat's favorite flavor. We can go with a vegan cupcake option that should be safe for the people with chocolate allergies as well. As for the others, there will be other food and even beverage options. You're working so hard for people I dont even care about. This is all for my son and no one else but him. His happiness is my only concern."

You sighed and reached up to place a hand on your husband before turning to smile sweetly at him. "Kai, you're being sweet today." You teased him and he scoffed. "Anyway, I know you only want to focus on Kaishi but having other kids here for the first time, other than Ishida, is like his dream come true. It took me a lot of time to get on the parents good sides. It took a lot of time for them to want to bring other kids around Kaishi because if the yakuza affiliations. Had it not been for the fact that you've began working into charity for the city, I dont think anyone would've given us a chance. Bow we have parent friends, and now Kaishi has a chance for an amazing birthday this year. Let's not mess this up, okay? That means NO EXCESSIVE GERMAPHOBIA, and NO ANTISOCIAL BEHAVIOR okay?" You drilled it home at the end. He sighed in annoyance. "Ugh fine. I'll try to conversate with the other scum as if they never insulted the yakuza before. You had better be lucky I appreciate you and Kaishi at this point or this wouldn't be happening." Kai complained before pulling his medical mask down and kissing you lightly on your lips. "You two are being icky again. I'm going to tell Grandpa on you guys." Kaishi's voice brought you two back to reality. "Oh hush, and mind your business." Kai said as he ruffled his son's short hair playfully. Kaishi giggled and swatted the gloved hand away. He took a seat at the kitchen table next to Kai's laptop and peeked over to see what was on the screen. While you went to fix him some oatmeal, his father bolted to the seat and slapped the laptop closed. "No peeking. Havent you any manners?" Kai fussed lightly while Kaishi smiled. "Its okay daddy, I already know you two are planning my birthday for tomorrow." The boy said proudly. "That may be so, but it doesnt mean we cant at least surprise you with the decorations and food." Kai explained. You placed breakfast in front of Kaishi and sat down with your boys. Pops had just entered the kitchen at this point. "Family breakfast? Dont mind if I do." He smiled and took a seat next to you. "Grandpa, what will you give me for my birthday?" Kaishi asked excitedly. Kai flicked his cheek. "Dont be rude brat, respect your elders." He scolded him as Pops laughed. "Oh calm down, Chisaki my boy. My grandson is very calm at this age compared to how you used to act." Pops said with a smirk as you laughed and Kai blushed lightly with embarrassment. "Anyway, my Grandchild your gift will have to remain a surprise until tomorrow." Pops winked and Kaishi groaned. "Aw man. Well, mom/dad? What will you get me?" He turned to look at you in anticipation. You put a finger to your chin to think for a second. Then you snapped and made an 'Ah-Ha' expression. "I'm going to get you a fancy suit! Maybe I'll get some toys too. Just maybe, you'll have to wait and see." You teased him and he smiled. "Daddy, what about you?" He looked at Kai for an answer. "Just like Pops said, it will be a surprise. However, I'll take the time now to ask you what you want as a gift from all of us. It'll serve separately from the gifts we'll get you so dont worry." Kai watched his son expectantly as Kaishi searched his little mind. Seconds later he piped up excitedly:

"SMOOGLY!!!" He shouted happily and raised his arms dramatically in the air. You and Pops laughed while Kai tilted his head in confusion. "Smoo-what? Are you well? Are you speaking in tongues???" Kaishi giggled at his father's confusion. You turned towards Kai to explain. "Kai, Smoogly is a character from Kaishi's favorite show. He's this giant lollipop that dances and sings. Yknow, kids love that stuff." Kai stared at you for a second before nodding. Then he turned his attention back to Kaishi eating breakfast finally. "Alright then, you want Smoogly then that's what you'll get." After breakfast, Kaishi went to call Ishida on the phone. You monitored in awe, gushing as your baby talked to his little crush over the phone. The two were fast friends, and she was the first/only child in the class to accept and support Kaishi to the fullest degree. Meanwhile, Pops went to the backyard to water the flowers and feed the Koi in the pond. Kai headed out to the car to call Kurono/pick him up. "Chrono, I know I've given you the off day but I need a favor." Kai spoke on the car wireless phone while he drove. "Yeah man, what's up?" Hari answered from the other side. He was currently face deep in a 3rd bag of chips as he reclined on his sofa. "The brat's birthday is tomorrow and it's his first big one with other parents and children expected to be there. He wants some actor there to perform or something. Some thing called Smogie or Smothly or something like that."

"OHHHHH!!!! You're talking about Smoogly!" Hari shouted excitedly, his voice boomed over the car speakers. "Yeah whatever that mess is. Anyway, help me track him down and I'll give you tomorrow off to repay you from today. You can also have some leftover cake." Kai offered him. "Bet!" Kurono answered shortly before hanging up and getting ready. In moments Kai was at his door to retrieve him. The two men drove around for a bit while Kurono did some searching online. Lucky for him, it wasn't that hard to find Smoogly's booking information. "Found it, Kai. It says here that we can email and make a down payment, or call the home offices for a response in about...14 days." Kai almost slammed on the breaks. "14 days??? No that's not possible for a booking that could be denied. My Kaishi's birthday is tomorrow. We need to get this Smoogly there as soon as possible." He felt a bit of panic set in. Kai would never forgive himself if he couldn't get his son's biggest wish for his birthday. "Hey man chill. We'll just go to his office and speak to him directly. I mean, we've got a little pull when it comes to money. Also, we're yakuza so..."

"I know what you're thinking Chrono, and the answer is no. We cant push too many buttons or we'll end up leaving the gray area in which we operate in. I cant afford to get arrested on Kaishi's birthday." Hari rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Whatever man. Just take a left onto the main freeway and we should reach the exit in like 30 minutes. After that, we just follow the main road for 4 more minutes, take a right at the stop light, and turn off the Broadway drive. Smoogly's office should be right between a steak restaurant and a car dealership." Hari explained the directions. Kai nodded and the two were on their way. Once they made it to the offices, they took a number and sat in the waiting room. The wait wasnt uncomfortable to Kai...it was the old man across from them that kept coughing that made him uncomfortable. He felt hives pop up on his arms. Luckily the two were called before he went insane! Only minutes later they were standing before a chubby man smoking a cigarette behind a desk. He had dark hair, and was balding right in the middle of his head. His skin was just a step away from being super pale (no doubt because he had the costume on a lot) His noticable feature was the large mole on his cheek. He was clearly a foreigner from some city somewhere, thanks to his accent.

(!!!Reader, think about Carl from Aqua Teen Hunger Force!!!)

"Alright, what can I do for you two men? Wait a minute, you two are the tax guys right?"

"Uhhh, no. No we're here to inquire about an opening to hire you? The pay will of course be-"

"Yeah yeah yeah. Pay doubled blah blah. I've heard this a million times before. I get bastards like you that come in here every single day asking to pay extra just so I can come to your event. The moms are even worse since they also think they're entitled to my services." The chubby man interrupted Kai. "Please. It's my son's birthday. You see, this birthday is special because he's never had-"

"Pshhh...yeah buster, you're kid is special. Just like everyone else that's come in here before you to say the same thing. Bottom line is that I ain't doing it. If you want my services than file through email or take it up with the front desk. Deposits non-refundable if you get denied. Have a nice day." He put out the cigarette and picked up a rather inappropriate nude magazine. Kai looked at Chrono and sighed as if to say Hari can take over. Hari smiled darkly and went to approach the desk. The chubby man hadn't looked up from the magazine as he spoke. "Look man, I said piss off. What, you didnt get the picture the first time or-" he immediately froze and turned his attention to Hari when he heard the click of the gun. When he turned, he was staring down the glock.

Hari spoke up darkly. "Hey buddy, I'm a changed man but that doesn't mean shit is sweet. I've killed a dozen people before and I'm not afraid to go to prison. Either you do my nephews birthday party tomorrow, or we wear your face on a memorial T-Shirt. Fuck is it gonna be? Eh???" The man gulped and shakily reached his finger out to the voice machine on his desk. "Deborah cancel all my appointments tomorrow, I've got a birthday to go do." Hari and Kai smiled when they heard the voice reply 'Right away, sir.' They bid the man goodbye and left the office. The next day, Kaishi rushed to the backyard after taking a quick shower and getting ready. It was decorated beautifully with bounce houses, a splash area, party games, an extensive food/present table, swings, slides, etc. Most importantly, the parents actually showed up with their kids. Kaishi almost cried tears of happiness when he finally had friends to play with. Meanwhile, you and Pops chatted with the other parents until Smoogly arrived to perform. The kids absolutely loved every bit! Every once in a while, the Lollipop turned to look at Kurono standing in the corner, smirking menacingly and daring him to slip up just once. Smoogly quickly turned around and kept performing. At the end of his shift, he was paid extra just as Kai promised, and Kaishi got to take a picture with him. Finally it came time for presents. Kaishi was happy to receive so many gifts, but he was more eager to get his gifts from you, Kai, and Pops (even Hari got him a secret gift at the last minute). Kaishi smiled at the wooden box Pops had given him. When he opened it, it revealed a small pin on a soft cushion. It was shiny and brand new. It was the symbol of the Hassaikai, the infamous flower design. "My grandson, when your father was younger I had given him this very same gift. Please be sure to take good care of it." He gently placed a hand on Kaishi's head. The boy nodded excitedly and passed the box for you to hold while he opened up the remaining gifts. It was a surprise jacket from you to him. It was just a smaller version of Kai's jacket! Plus that suit you promised, and a few other Smoogly themed toys as well. From Hari, he recieved a new helmet for his new bike. Finally from Kai he received a matching mask. With the suit and the jacket, he was the matching embodiment of his very on father (aside from inheriting some of your skin tone depending on your color, my dear reader).

This was truly the perfect birthday.

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

TIp Jar: https://cash.app/$YuTakeyama

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nam-nam-joon · 5 years ago

Text

along the shore

Pairing: yukhei x reader

Genre: meet-cute, summer friendship

Wordcount: 10.3k

Warnings: proceed with caution if large bodies of water/rescue breathing makes you uncomfortable

Summary: the vacation you’ve been waiting for so long is finally here, but the sleepy town by the ocean is holding more secrets than you think

this was written for @kacchand ~! i’ve been thinking of dedicating a few fics to the people whose content i’ve been enjoying on here immensely, and you’re first! here is your well-deserved vacation. i hope you like it :)

It was so early that fog still obscured the tips of the cedars lining the shore.

Well, early was relative - 8 am would be late had it been any other day you’d have to get up and prepare for work. But here and now, on vacation, it was fairly early, especially considering you had, naturally, planned to sleep in every other morning. Theoretically at least.

And yet here you were, comfortably toasty in soft, fluffy clothes, stuffed into a big red wetsuit, head topped with a thick beanie and with excitement in your heart.

The little boat, driven by one of the guides knowing the area like their pocket, didn’t look too reassuring; it dipped and swayed in the little waves that licked at the pontons, shortly below the main tourhouse up half a flight of sun-bleached wooden steps.

Half a dozen other people milled around the waiting area as well, all without exception holding cameras.

You felt around one of the outer, non-waterproof pockets of the thick suit - yep, your phone was still there.

Not to think what would happen if you’d take the expensive digital camera out on a boat ride like this, only to have an unexpected little wave knock it out of your hands and plunge it into the bottomless depth…

Your phone was an acceptable substitute, especially considering how you hadn’t come here to take pictures, but to make memories.

“All aboard!” Came the hoarse cry from the driver. Anticipation washed over the group.

You would really do it. All these months of work and saving everything you could, for this vacation, for this boat ride - to drive out to the open ocean, to see wales.

The excitement made your hands quiver.

On your way out of the safe haven, a sound nestled into the embrace of the coast, you caught he guide throw a few questioning glances at the sky.

They only paused minimally in their telling about bald eagles sitting in the trees and how everyone was on watch-duty to spot them.

The fog stayed behind with the trees as soon as the driver turned towards the open ocean, past a formation of rocks that were covered in seals.

One of them lazily lifted one of its flippers and waved.

“Alright folks, so we might have to cut this tour short today - we’ve been getting reports there’s some heavy rain coming in, and we don’t wanna get hit with that on the open waters. But so far it’s looking good, so, eh, we’ll see.”

Someone asked about experiencing a storm in this boat, and the guide gave them a lopsided grin.

“In this old thing? You’d be lucky if you came out alive. Nah, you best sit out a storm safe on the shore. Better, in a warm cabin with someone to keep you company and a good drink in your hand!”

Cheers and laughter.

A little way further out the driver slowed the boat so everyone could take a good look at a sea otter that was just floating between the waves, disappearing now and then before coming back up and cleaning its little head. Not long after that, the walkie-talkie crackled and an almost not-understandable voice spoke something.

“Folks! We just got news of a whale sighting not too far from here. Hang in tight, we might end up seeing some today after all!”

The murmurs and approving words didn’t last too long, after the clouds started to look a little darker grey, hanging a little low. But then another tour-boat came into sight, and you caught a glance of a rounded back with a minimal fin and every doubt you’d had about anything else was swept away.

The salty breeze blew into your face, left a hint of the ocean on your lips as you followed the others and stood from the bench in the middle of the boat.

Two whales were gathering food, the driver narrated, explaining there wouldn’t be sights of a tail fin until one or both decided to dive deep.

For a while everyone took pictures and admired the parts they could catch of the large animals mostly hidden below water.

Then the other boat started to move, the crackling of an incoming message disrupting the otherwise very peaceful mood. Something like the sound of something big rushing over the water, still far away, reached your ears. Confused by its origin you turned in your seat.

In moments the wind picked up. The breeze from before, salty, suddenly smelled like rain, whipped the long hair of a fellow passenger next to you around and had the boat gently swaying from side to side.

“Everybody sit down and hold on to the boat, the rain might have come earlier than expected - if everybody holds on, we should get-”

You momentarily stopped listening as a boy, surely younger and nonetheless taller than you, rudely shoved his elbow into your back.

“Hey, watch it.” You grumbled, annoyed at how disinterested the other was concerning his surroundings. Another shove that brought you to the edge of your seat, literally, and you turned around, ready to raise your voice when a small wave hit the side of the boat, the top of it spraying water on the passengers. Some of it got into your eyes and you blinked at the sudden sting.

Raindrops began to fall, the water like a wall pushing itself over the ocean.

Mind focused on the primary problem at hand - not being able to see without mild irritation in your eyes - you didn’t see the second wave coming, larger and wilder than the first.

It hit, unexpected, and your butt slipped off the seat completely, forcing you to stand to hop back up. In the short moment in which you still tried to find your balance in the swaying, now moving, boat, a third wave collided with the vehicle.

The edge of the boat had seemed quite high.

And then suddenly it wasn’t, and you couldn’t muster as much as a noise of surprise before the sky and the ocean switched places and you plunged into the water.

Everything got very quiet suddenly.

And cold.

It was cold, so, so cold, and you dimly remembered the safety instruction, some hour ago, and how the person had mentioned that the suit would automatically fill with water. What had been the next step in securing your survival in the water…?

You opened your eyes.

The pain was all but forgotten as you looked out through the surprisingly clear water, saw the whales - three, not two - move under the surface.

They turned and twisted, and their songs reached your ears through the water.

Peaceful.

Something glinting on one of their flippers caught your attention. Narrowing your eyes at it, they almost immediately widened again at the sight.

Someone was swimming around the gigantic animal, their hands rubbing over its skin. A silver grey tail shimmering behind them.

The salt began to burn in your nose.

Nothing changed, and yet the person - was it a person? Were you seeing things? - let go of the whale and paused.

Your thoughts started to grow sluggish in the treacherous cold of the sea.

The person was incredibly fast in swimming around its larger friends. Within seconds large hands reached for you and intelligent, dark eyes, found yours.

“Humans…” Mused a voice, so clear in your ears as if they were speaking above water. “You always forget the most important parts when falling into the ocean.”

A broad smile brightened the boy’s - or was he a young man already?- brightened the face in front of you as quick, nimble fingers worked to tighten the loops around your arms and legs that would halt the flow of water into the suit.

You could do nothing but stare.

Short, dull brown hair flowed with every movement; pearls and other small stuff delicately woven into it, shimmering and glinting now and then.

You tried to speak but the boy was quick to press the pad of his finger to your lips.

“Hush, human. Your voices were made for the air, not the water. Save your breath.”

Breathing.

Only then did you realize your chest hurt.

“Hmm? Human, what’s the m-” His wide eyes travelled up to your own gaze after lingering on your lips, where his finger was still mushed against. Then he noticed your hand, weakly clutching at your chest.

“Oh. I see.”

His eyes seemed to search for something above before reconnecting with yours, and for the first time you thought to see something like mild worry in them.

The bewilderment reached through the haze that settled over your oxygen deprived brain as the boy moved forward, one of his hands on your jaw, the other holding you close, and then pressed his own lips to yours.

There was no leverage to hold on to, or to push away the stranger, and your fists weakly connected with his chest.

His hands only held you tighter, your heart beating faster in a rising panic.

With the shock it was easy for him to tilt his head and open both of your mouths together in what turned out to not be a kiss. Instead, he gave you air, and even though your head still swam, the pressure on your temples lessened.

“Let’s get you back up, you don’t belong here.” Were the last words you could hear before you felt the water pulling at you as the boy swam forward.

Shortly before you could break the surface you went limp in his hands.

You came to as the boat docked below the tourhouse, wet to the bones and shivering.

It took three mugs of steaming tea, an abundance of warm blankets and a donated hoodie and pants you were ushered into in favour of your soaked clothes, until you were somewhat clear in the head again and your hands weren’t shaking anymore.

After the head of tours had apologized, along with the rude boy from before that had definitely been a big part of the reason why you’d fallen, you sat on a bench above a heater, overlooking the haven and following the raindrops that raced down the glass.

Outside the storm was fully raging, and the opening through which the boats entered and left the haven was hidden in the rain.

The young man with the fishtail wouldn’t leave your mind.

Had you hallucinated him? The combination of the shock from the cold water, the salt, the lack of air…?

You had almost asked about it, after the guide had helped you ashore, the small team from the tourhouse already waiting to get you inside to dry and get warm as soon as possible.

There had been something like a silent exchange of words between the staff, at least it had seemed so. Or maybe the guide had just quietly accepted their fate of being beheaded later.

“How are you feeling, dear?”

As if sensing your thoughts were circling back to one topic and one topic only, the friendly woman from behind the counter slipped around it and towards you, hand already extended towards your mug in a questioning manner.

You nodded and smiled, politely declining the offer to get another refill.

“Better.” You sighed, then. “Can feel all my toes and fingers again.”

The woman pursed her lips but refrained from apologizing once more.

“You had the unfortunate luck to be our one-in-a-hundred case… Good thing you remembered the safety procedure.” She lifted an eyebrow, and you dipped your nose back into your mug to humm in agreement.

Except you hadn’t, hadn’t remembered, had been frozen in fear and if it hadn’t been for-

“Well, I guess, the kayaking tour this evening will have to be postponed to tomorrow… doesn’t look like the rain will stop anytime soon.”

As if on cue, thunder clapped in the distance. The woman frowned.

“Yikes. Stay as long as you’d like, okay? I threw your clothes into the wash, they should be good in an hour or so.”

You set the mug down on the windowsill quite suddenly as a thought fell into your head.

“The wetsuit… did you find a phone in it? I remember putting it in one of the outer pockets…”

The apologetic look on the woman’s face was saying it all.

“So sorry. There wasn’t anything in your suit after we helped you out of it. It must have slipped out when you fell.”

“Damn.” Your eyes fled outside the window, and resignation tugged at your heart.

This long awaited trip had, within only its first two days, gone from the dream of your dreams to a very unfortunate collection of mishaps.

“But there’s good news too; The weather’s supposed to get a lot better in the next days. It’s not much, I know, but it’s something, hm?”

After your clothes had come out of the drier, as fluffy and warm as they had been before, the friendly woman from the counter lend you a sturdy, bright yellow wax coat to keep you dry on your way to the hostel, and you took your leave.

On the way there you stopped by one of the many cozy, tiny restaurants.

The salmon soup and the freshly baked bread that came with it somewhat soothed the loss that your missing phone had left in you midst; replaced with food it was bearable for now.

It still sucked, but that was out of question.

The afternoon was spend in the common room of the hostel, overlooking part of the harbour and the sound.

There was a guitar sitting in a corner, and someone picked it up and began plucking calm tunes that mixed with the chatter of the two handful of people milling in the beautiful glass house addition to the main hostel.

Wrapped in a blanket with your book the time passed easily enough. The rain was still pouring and you decided against going out for dinner. Instead you raided the ‘up for grabs’ section of the hostel kitchen, and later slept in with a belly full of noodles and sauce you had cooked up from the bounty of the free shelve.

The next day dawned bright and early, warmer than the ones before and without a single cloud in the sky.

The sunscreen you had packed suddenly didn’t look as obsolete anymore, and you generously applied it before leaving the hostel to finally explore the small town.

It was already past noon when you stumbled through a patch of forest, the trees unkept and the barely there path overgrown. The tote over your shoulder held a sandwich of a respectable size and two cans of lemonade, and your belly had been loudly requesting them for a while.

You had been looking for a good place to sit down and rest for about the same time. As the trees thinned out and gave the view free on an old walkway that reached into the water, you felt relief washing over you.

The place for lunch had been found.

It felt awfully touristy but along with your food you had bought a simple straw hat. Sitting here on the edge of the walkway now, it made the burn of he sun bearable.

Your toes barely touched the water below as you dangled your legs over the edge, leaned back on your hands and just resting after wolving down the sandwich.

The sun was glistening on the surface of the waves. A few seagulls passed by overhead.

It was very quiet here, the trees in your back doing a great job at filtering the noise from the street beyond them and shielding the seclusive lagoon from prying eyes.

Sat here the awful events from yesterday were almost forgotten.

Almost.

Until…

“Hi.”

The voice startled you. There was noone on the wooden planks behind you, noone on the shore; it took your searching eyes a moment to move to the water.

“I’m- I’m down here.”

There was humour swinging in the words but you inched forward on your hastily pulled back legs, wary. You spied over the edge and sighed.

A head was bobbing shortly above the waves; the same wide, brown eyes staring up at you now that had so curiously taken in your face yesterday.

Here, in the sunlight, his skin had nothing of its ghostly paleness from below water anymore. Indeed he was quite tan, although his hair was still much darker. The pearls in it blinked.

“Hi?” You answered, not entirely sure if you had fallen asleep in the sun and were experiencing a very realistic dream.

“Hey. You’re the one from the tour yesterday, aren’t you? I found this after I brought you to the surface, it was just sort of… drifting. This morning it wouldn’t stop making noise, Yuta said it was probably yours?”

His words didn’t make much sense before he lifted a hand out of the water, droplets of the liquid running over the skin that blended into scales on one side of the appendix. Clutched in his fingers, looking almost entirely human, was your phone.

“My phone!” You repeated, hastily taking it from the boy and drying it with your shirt. The screen lit up after you pressed a button, and even though one edge of the display was of a slightly distorted colour, otherwise it seemed to be fine. You looked back at the boy, still floating in the same spot.

“Thank you so much!” You blinked, and lowered the device until it rested on your thigh. “Thank you. Not only for my phone but...you know. Saving my life.”

The previously rather passive expression on the merman’s morphed into a big grin. One hand ran through the wet locks, messed them up a bit. Already they were drying under the sunlight.

“You’re welcome. Taeil was worried when they saw you fall.”

“Taeil…?”

“My friend! One of the whales you saw yesterday.”

“Right.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “I-”

“Sorry,” He interrupted you, and you fell silent immediately. “Would you mind if I came up and sit with you? It gets super exhausting to keep talking up to you like that.”

“Um, sure.” You shuffled over to the left until there was more than enough room for one more to sit. After hastily stuffing the sandwich wrapper into your bag, you gave a thumbs-up to the guy below.

In the next breath he was already pulling himself up, arms flexing and tail splashing a fine mist of water over you before he settled down next to you.

You ran both your hands over your face and lifted your hat to brush back a few strands of hair. When you opened your eyes again you suddenly had to look up.

The guy was taller than you while sitting, his friendly face smiling down on you.

It was a fleeting thought in your head before your eyes travelled down and latched onto the same, glimmering, grey tail that had caught your attention yesterday already.

Up this close it was incredibly beautiful.

The scales overlapped, creating a shimmering slick surface that was able to follow every move the strong muscles did below.

It narrowed where it vanished in the water, the end concealed in the depths. The occasional single scale was brighter that the others wich, under a closer look, ranged from dark grey, almost charcoal, to a silverish concrete grey. The ones around the boy’s hips were overall lighter than the ones closer to the water, but the brighter scales dotting the whole tail were more noticeable there.

You realized you were staring and turned your head in the other direction, feeling a heat that had nothing to do with the clear sky entering your cheeks.

“First time seeing a mermaid, huh? I get it, we can be quite breathtaking.”

“Oh jesus christ.” You let out, glaring at the smug grin on the boy’s face. “At least introduce yourself before subjecting me to such horrible… horrible puns.”

The laughter, waiting to boil over beneath the cold surface, finally broke free after looking at the other’s face a little longer.

“You really think it was terrible, hmm?” He grinned, hands folded in his lap. “I’m Yukhei. What’s your name?”

“_______. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh please, the pleasure is all mine.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and you laughed again.

“Do you do that often?” You asked, after taking a sip from your drink.

Yukhei made a small noise of question and turned his head. Your eyes were trained on the horizon melting into the ocean in the heat.

“Save people who fall overboard.”

“Oh.” He huffed, following your gaze. “No, not usually. I mean, usually, people don’t fall in, and usually, on the rare occasion they do, they’re busy helping themselves.” He shrugged.

“Guess I owe you big time, then.” Your eyes dropped to where your legs dangled next to Yukhei’s tail.

The other watched you for a moment.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. Many people forget everything as soon as they join us in the water. It’s not your fault.”

Your eyes briefly met with his and got stuck on the empathy in them.

The fingers in your lap, circled around your phone, tightened.

“Still. If there’s something I could do for you - it’d make me feel better.”

Without asking, Yukhei’s hand stole behind you and grabbed the unopened can of lemonade.

“Well, if you put it like that…” He took a sip of the drink, paused, and looked at the label. “Ah, this one’s good. Um. Yeah, if you really want to, I’d love to get some licorice. The good, german one. Think you can get me a pack of those?”

He lifted his eyebrows over his drink, hopeful smile half hidden behind the metal.

“Sure.” You laughed, incredulous at his odd request. “I think I can manage that.”

Yukhei’s smile was a radiant as the sun above. “Great! Thanks.”

A moment of silence in which you both sipped your lemonades in silence. Then he spoke up again.

“So did you get a good photo of my friends? That’s why you were there, right? To take photos of the whales?”

You shook your head, eyes leaving the deep blue of the ocean for the brown of Yukhei’s gaze. “No. I have a good camera but I didn’t take it out to the tour - looking back it proved to be a really good decision because I was- Well I wasn’t anticipating taking a dive but the possibility was there. You know? I mostly went to see whales and make memories.”

“Huh.” The mermaid sipped his drink, lazily swishing his tail through the water below. “That doesn’t happen too often. Mostly it’s just ‘Oh I gotta take a picture of this! Oh I gotta take a picture of that!’.”

“Tell me about it…” You sighed into your can, eyes squinting at the glistening water once more. “This is a super beautiful tiny town, I’m just glad not more people are as crazed to ban everything they get in front of their lense on photos. It’s the worst when they stop in the middle of the walkway and if you don’t pay attention you just smack right into them!”

Exasperated you dropped the hand that had gesticulated wildly back on your leg. Yukhei watched you with interest, taking in every word.

“So you’re not a tourist-tourist?” He asked, tip of his finger running over the top of the can in his hand.

You shook your head.

“I mean, I do take pictures as well, but at least I try to… Not inconvenience anyone else while doing it. I wanna have keepsakes that I won’t just throw away after they gather dust on some shelve.”

“That’s a good approach.”

The time seemed to fly by the longer you sat on the walkway with Yukhei, even after you had both finished your drink. He was a great listener and soaked up everything you told him about the town you usually lived and worked in, about the town just behind the line of trees that the merman had obviously never seen.

Before long you glanced at your watch and had to hurry to excuse yourself because the kayaking tour you’d signed up for would depart soon.

“Kayaking?” Yukhei’s eyes glinted. “Maybe I’ll come.” His smile was mischievous, and you worried your eyebrows.

“But- That means people would see you.”

“You saw me just now?”

“Yeah but-”

“Relax, I won’t swim next to your boat or something.” He grinned, entertained by your exasperation at the prospect of having a mermaid trailing your boat. “But maybe you’ll catch glances of me in the distance - keep an eye out on the horizon, baby.”

He winked, with both eyes, and clicked his tongue suggestively. It had you breaking into a laugh before you shoved him back into the water. He went in with a great splash, hovering in one spot and beaming up at you.

“Meet you back here at sundown? With my licorice?” His eyebrows curved on his forehead in an adorable way, and you weren’t entirely immune to those round, hopeful eyes he gave you.

“Sure.” You laughed again, hoisting the tote higher up your shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

You waved with the hand still holding your phone, and then had to run to still make the kayaking trip.

In the evening you went into one of the shops and eventually had to ask one of the clerks there if they had what the mermaid had asked for.

With a small package of ‘Haribo Rotella’ in your sunburned hands you returned to the thick patch of forest you’d been wondering by noon. The store had had a select few packages of other Haribo sweets as well, smurves and something colourful, too, but you’d stuck with the ‘Rotella’ stuff since it was purely licorice.

Another two cans of the lemonade you’d bought before were in your bag now, and as you made your way down the hill to the walkway you could see something bobbing in the water next to it.

Yukhei was waiting already when your feet touched the wood on the construction, hair dripping water on his shoulders and droplets glistening all over him.

He waved enthusiastically as you approached, hopping in place and reminding you very much of an excited puppy.

“Did you get it?” He almost shouted, and wordless you held out the sweets. “Omg yass!”

He tore into the package and fished a coil of the black stuff out, munching on it excitedly.

“Did you just say ��omg’?” You remarked with a smile as you smoothed down the fluttery fabric of your summer clothes to sit next to the merman. He grinned at you.

“So what if I did?”

“I didn’t know that was something merfolk - do you call it that?” Yukhei nodded patiently. “Didn’t know merfolk used such words.”

He shrugged. “You pick up a lot, you know? I mean, I do speak your language as well, so.”

“Oh yeah you’re right.” You looked at him with new interest. “Where did you learn it? Do merfolk have school as well?”

He was on his third of fourth coil now and not showing any signs of stopping.

“Your parents teach you, mostly. And the human children coming to the sea sometimes.”

At your astonishment he chuckled, plopping another piece into his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Mermaid’s a fairy tale right? Except for the natives living by the coast. They know they’re not. But you can’t really trust anyone else.”

Uncomfortably touched you looked away. The sky was a dusty orange dulling into greyish blue the lower the sun, just out of sight already, sunk. The breeze was still warm, but the freshness of summer nights began to circle on the area.

“But… That means… You trust me not to tell anyone I saw a mermaid.”

You looked back at Yukhei who, after more than half the pack, had seemed to finally slow down. The sweets were momentarily placed aside as he leaned forward, his elbows on his tail and holding your gaze with an unfamiliar intensity you hadn’t seen before.

“It’s less trusting and more desperately hoping. Of course, nobody would really believe you if you told them you’d seen someone like me… The locals who know will say you got a bad sunstroke and the glittering on the light on the water fooled your eyes. Nobody will carry word outside this town except you, maybe, but we hope you don’t. That wouldn’t be very nice. Not only because I saved your life.”

Stunned by the calm sincerity in his voice you just sat next to him for a moment. The bubbly, loud demeanor from before was entirely gone and there was something intense in his eyes the longer you looked into them.

“I won’t say anything. I promise.”

“Good.” He leaned back, smiled, and the tension dissipated.

His broad shoulders relaxed and he sporadically took out another piece of licorice, going back to the somewhat mindless chatter he’d filled your conversation before.

It felt a bit strange, to have the bubbly, open, happy version of himself back so suddenly, and it made you think twice when regarding him.

His looks were easygoing and borderline cheeky again, but now you could see something simmering beneath it.

When you had parted ways that evening, the night sky dotted with stars already, and finally lay in bed, your thoughts wouldn’t let go on how much he had risked in the gamble of not only saving you but also returning your phone.

It was currently charging at the port inside one of the small lockers that had come with the room. The discoloured corner would probably remain, but after a few hours stuck in rice you were positive the rest would work just fine.

Before you knew it, the first week of your vacation ended already.

Almost daily were the visits to the ocean, to the little, hidden walkway. More often than not you could see Yukhei already waiting, swimming between the wooden pollers keeping the walkway up, weaving in and out of them. After a few days he was laying with his arms and upper torso on the wood, baking in the sunlight.

As you approached your meeting space today you found him laying completely out of the water, with only his fluke hanging over the edge.

To see his tail in all its glory brushed all conscious thoughts from your head.

The boy seemed to sleep, his eyes closed and face relaxed as you crouched next to where his ankles would have been.

The glint of his scales was inviting you to reach out with a hand, to touch it, but you refrained and stuck to only watching how it slowly moved from side to side.

A sheen of moisture sparkled in the sunlight.

When a cloud pushed itself in front of the radiant orb in the sky the temperature went from scalding to bearable, waking Yukhei.

He scooted forward until he was on one height with you, at the edge of the walkway, yawning and pouting a bit.

“Why the long face?” You playfully jabbed an elbow into his side.

“You should have woken me up when you arrived! I don’t want to waste time I could spend in your company.”

It was difficult to suppress the fond smile spreading on your face.

“You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you. Sorry.”

He shook his head and placed it on your shoulder.

“You were looking at my tail again, weren’t you?”

Now it was your turn to pull a pout. “Don’t call me out like that. Yes I was. It’s a very pretty tail.”

“You can touch it if you want, you know?”

You lifted your head and turned it to look at him. “You sure?”

He hummed affirmatively, lashes fanning over his cheeks as he watched where his appendix sloshed in the water below.

Hesitation made your hands heavy. But curiosity won.

With a single finger you poked the skin, on the height of where his knee would have been.

He giggled at the way you leaned down to inspect it better. The scales where smooth and covered in a thin film of slick, and it was almost like petting koi. His smile was still wide and the twinkle in his eyes still glinting when you leaned back after your thorough inspection.

The slick rubbed off and stuck to the palm you had hesitantly stroked Yukhei’s tail with and you were a bit grossed out at how it coated your skin.

The water wasn’t too far down and so you switched your legs hanging over the edge for your torso, reaching down to wave your hand around the water, hoping the sheen would dissipate. It didn’t, at first, and you went on to rub the fingers of the hand against each other before outright wiping the palm on the wood of a pillar. Still hanging with around half your body over the edge you collected your strength to pull yourself back up, before-

“Watch out!” Yukhei suddenly called, his hands jerking to your sides as you startled at his voice.

“Wh-!”

The blue came a lot closer and the next moment you were sputtering and coughing, treading water to hold yourself up while attempting to blink the salt out of your eyes.

“Yukhei!”

The merman was cupping the lower half of his face in his palm, trying and obviously failing to hide his laughter.

“You idiot!”

He cackled at that, head tipped back and with an arm wrapped around his middle to hold himself together while you glowered at him from the wetness.

Grumbling you went to the rusted steps of an ancient ladder mounted to the wood meant for this exact occasion.

The water clung to your clothes, dragged you back, and you needed to strain your arms to heave yourself up - were almost out of the water when two strong hands clamped over your hips and pulled you back in.

His name got half swallowed by a mouth full of saltwater and again you were coughing and glaring at the face of one all too happy merman.

He was effortlessly floating by your side, staying out of reach of your moving legs.

“Hm?”

He was giving you the doe eyes again, the fake-i-am-so-sorry-pls-don’t-hurt?-ones, and you shoved water at him. It didn’t yield much result as all it accomplished was soaking his hair, but the smile on his lips widened a little.

“Aww come on!” He circled you once, coming closer and tugging you towards him afterwards. With his arms around your middle it was easier to stay up, and the immediate fear of being pulled underwater by something vanished.

“We always sit on that dumb pier and talk, how about we play a bit now? In the water? Pretty please?”

All by themselves did your arms come to rest on top of his shoulders, after wiping the strands of hair from your face.

“You could’ve just asked instead of shoving me in!”

He was pouting now.

“You were slipping in already! I meant to save you!”

“The hell you were… you’re a really fishy person, you know that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you.”

He released you as you made attempts to get to the ladder, his expression now a little dulled at you continued lack of excitement.

“Don’t pull a face, Mr. Fish, I’ll come back in, I just need to take off my shoes first.”

He was beaming up at you again as you came back from stowing away the shoes, bag and other valuables you’d brought in a shaded spot under a tree, where it was unlikely to be spotted or taken. This place was pretty reclusive as it was already, but better safe than sorry. You’d already lost your phone on this trip once, you weren’t keen on that or worse happening again.

That evening you slept in early, tired as can be.

It had been fun, playing with Yukhei where he was most at home. The shallow water in the hidden lagoon had been a lot warmer than that out on sea, but even with the hot temperatures that had settled in after the first days it was still taxing on your body. Not to mention the exhaustion the physical exercise brought.

The next evening you brought your polaroid camera down to the hidden beach.

Yukhei in the light of the dying sun was something you didn’t want to forget.

It lit up his skin in touches of caramell and gold, caught in the pearls and glittering stones woven into his hair and the droplets of water on his skin.

You made sure not to aim at anything of his lower body, so to anyone who didn’t know, he just looked like a boy fresh from the surf, shirtless and with salt-swept hair.

There were soft scales running along parts of his upper body too, but to anyone who didn’t know what they were, they would just look like a funny reflection.

Yukhei hovered over your shoulder, asking to see the selfies you’d taken on your phone, gasped in amazement as you handed him the polaroid one and told him he’d have to wait until the image showed.

You laughed a little at how he spend the next few minutes sitting hunched forward, the small picture cradled in his palms, eyes fixed on the developing image.

“Look! Look, it showed up! It’s us!”

“I know.” You smiled at him and stabilized the shaking piece of paper and plastic he held out to you. His fingers didn’t let go and together you watched on as the final details showed up.

“You look happy.” You commented, peeling your eyes away from the keepsake and looking up at the merman.

“You too.” He mirrored you, squinting against the last rays of sunlight falling from around your back into his eyes. The smile seemed glued to his face the past days.

“Can I keep one as well?” His voice was a bit smaller than usual, his hands gripping the other in his lap.

“Mhm- Yeah, I think I could print one of the selfies and laminate it, so the water wouldn’t soak it. I’ll see what I can do tomorrow, okay?”

Satisfied, he nodded, slinging an arm around your side and tugging you into a hug.

“Thank you. I’m so glad I pulled you from the water. You’re a great human.”

You smiled and leaned your cheek against his shoulder and hugged him back, but when the sun had vanished completely and the darkness pulled over the sky on your way back to the hostel you were reminded how your vacation would end soon.

It was still several days, and yet…

The end drew closer with each sunkissed day you spend in this sleepy town, with Yukhei by your side.

He picked up on the somewhat gloomy mood you’d fallen into, asked what was wrong with a concerned expression and his head ducking down to meet your line of sight.

You told him, throwing tiny pebbles you’d picked up by the waterline back into the small waves lapping at the wooden structure.

He grew silent after that, and it seemed you weren’t the only one who had temporarily forgotten there was a clock ticking down.

You hadn’t explored nearly as much of the town and the surrounding area as you’d originally planned, and that was okay because there was Yukhei, but part of you knew the people who knew about your trip would nag you endlessly if you came back and told them you’d only seen a fraction of the scenic area.

For a while both of you stewed in silence.

Eventually your thoughts cleared a little again and you were able to focus on nicer things, but when you turned to Yukhei and wanted to ask him something he was already squinting his eyes into the distance, hand shielding his face. Shortly afterwards he turned and met your eyes, an apologetic look on his face.

“-Sorry, whatever you wanted to say, do you think you can keep it ‘till tomorrow? I think I have to go back, I’ve kind of been neglecting my duties these past days to come hang out with you and I think they caught on to me.”

You nodded in understanding.

“Will you be here tomorrow?”

He shrugged, already slipping into the water.

“Don’t know.”

And without saying more, he was gone.

You came back the next day, finally with the laminated selfie he’d asked about. You’d taped off the edges to make it even less likely for water to get to the image safe between the sheets of plastic, had put it into an envelope, even.

But Yukhei wasn’t there.

You waited, more than an hour. The waves and the gulls overhead were the only things keeping you company.

Back up on the hill you looked down one more time; at the spot on the walkway you knew was the envelope with a stone on top so the wind wouldn’t blow it away. You hoped Yukhei would find it, if he came by later.

The rest of the day was spend walking the town and finally crossing some things off your checklist.

It was nice, to see so many other people, to hear different voices and laughs and bathe in the general, light-hearted mood, but the disappearance of Yukhei yesterday nagged at the back of your head and wouldn’t go away completely.

As the sun lowered and you came by the path through the small forest, familiar for your eyes already, there was a moment in which you hesitated. Should you go look, see if Yukhei had found the photo? -But he hadn’t been there in the morning, he’d said people had caught him slacking off, maybe he would be banished to work extra now.

Your feet hurt and your shoulders too; Forgoing to put on sunscreen just because you wore a light button down with short sleeves over a tank top. But the day had been warmer than expected and so you’d taken the shirt off eventually, forgetting about your unprotected shoulders.

A cool shower and a snack and then bed would be nice.

A bird flew past you, keckering and complaining in the still evening air, and brought you back from your thoughts. No. It’d be best to just head back for now. Tomorrow you could come by again. And the day after, and then another day, and the day after that… Maybe you could say goodbye before catching the bus back. Maybe. Hopefully.

The moon hung over the ocean, big and bright, casting silver light on your path and dipping everything in mystic touches.

There were light clouds coming in from the sea over the following morning. By noon they had thickened, rain beginning to fall.

The earth smelled rich, the scent of the water on hot stones surrounding you.

The hostel had provided an umbrella as you’d mentioned you had forgotten to bring your own, and now you were huddled below it, barefoot and in shorts to get as little of your clothes wet as possible.

The path down the hill was slippery and you had to focus on every step in order to not take a tumble over the rocky patches of grass.

Mud squelched between your toes as you stepped onto the sand finally. The pier was deserted.

Still you walked the length of it, the raindrops washing your feet clean while you moved.

There was the stone you had left behind.

A sigh escaped you as you crouched down, gently lifting the weight. The envelope had turned to off-white mush, the last, dry spot it had had under the cover of the stone quickly soaking.

Among the dissolving paper was the selfie.

“Well, at least I know it’s waterproof now.” You put the stone back, deciding against taking it with you. Maybe if Yukhei would come by, maybe he would find it. There was a lot of maybe and you weren’t ready to accept he might have just left like that.

The inside of the restaurant was warm and dry and nobody gave you dirty looks for coming in like you had.

The sky was still covered in clouds when you went to bed, afternoon spent exploring the local museum and art gallery, but the rain was that of a summer day, not pelting down too harshly.

It trickled down the window in the dorm room and whenever the wind came in just right you could hear the waves crashing in the distance.

It was still dark when you sat up.

Hands reached for the water bottle by themselves until your thirst was quenched and still you didn’t feel like lying back down.

Moonlight shone through the window and painted rectangles on the floor, patterned by the half-drawn blinds.

No sound came through the cracked window, and none came from the people sharing the room with you, either.

For a moment you froze in your place, not daring to breathe.

It was like the world was holding its breath alongside you, was waiting for something. Anything.

The breeze came back, gently carding through the long grass below the window.

Someone turned on their other side in their bed, the wood creaking.

You relaxed, shoulders dropping. Whatever it had been seemed to have passed.

The pillow settled around your face as you lay down, drawing the blanket up higher as a shiver in the still air crept down your back.

Even with eyes closed your ears remained wide open, sensitive to any sound.

Sleep began to reach out its hands towards you once more, until-

The world spun a bit, so fast had you sat up.

There it was again.

Whatever had woken you before, there it was again, and it was… Music?

A song?

On quiet feet you stole towards the window, opening it a little wider.

The wind turned and the singing voice couldn’t be heard anymore.

Your phone proclaimed the time to be one am as you plucked it from its charging place, shrugged into a cardigan and slipped into a pair of shoes.

All the clouds had left the sky and it stretched endless into every direction, littered with stars.

There were so many more than you were used to, empty spaces filled in by more glowing dots than you could count, and every time you had to pause, wait for the wind to carry the song to your ears again, you stared up at the dome with wide eyes and wonder.

The patch of trees came into view and your steps sped up.

You really hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be a dream as you pushed through the bushes, eager to get to the other side, stumbling once and only barely regaining your footing as the slope began to dip further.

Next to the walkway floated Yukhei.

With steps as quiet as you could muster you inched over the wood, towards the mermaid drifting close by the edge. A small rectangle on his chest was a ghostly white and you didn’t know what it was until you stood next to him, saw the tape around the edges.

But by then his singing had picked up a note, had won in intensity.

He didn’t need instruments to accompany his voice. It was so rich, so deep and yet so melodious that anything else would have only interferred with the story he wove with the words that you couldn’t understand.

There was an ache in your chest growing as Yukhei’s song went on, his notes becoming more desperate until there were tears in your eyes because you knew Yukhei was calling for something, something out of his reach, but you didn’t know what and it brought pain into your heart.

His voice grew hoarse on the next verse and he broke off, closing his lips and swallowing once.

The silence filled the air around you, made the cool summer night heavy. Breathing was difficult and you hoped, longed Yukhei would continue.

But his eyebrows furrowed, creasing the skin between them, and he stayed silent under the stars, only drawing a slow breath every once in a while.

“What were you singing about, Yukhei?” You asked, crouching on the wood, cardigan wrapped around your legs.

The merman startled so badly he caused a small wave that swept over him, got into the wrong pipe and made him cough.

Bobbing upright in the water his wide eyes stared up at you, as if you were the mythical creature bathed in the light of a million stars and not him.

As if the moonlight didn’t put silver between his strands, place a silver glow over his shoulders.

“You’re here.”

You nodded, still looking down on him in the water.

“You- You came.”

Again you moved your head.

Yukhei seemed at a loss for words.

“You weren’t here yesterday.” You picked at a loose thread on your knitwear, averting your eyes. “I see you found the photo.”

He stilled in fiddling with the rectangle, flattening it to his chest instead.

He remained silent.

It must have been the longest time you hadn’t heard any sound coming from him before he gently laid the photo on the wood and pulled himself up to sit beside you.

His tail was so close to your leg you could feel the coolness that clung to his scales so fresh out of the water.

“Your song,” You continued, as it seemed unlikely he would raise his voice sometime soon. “It was so… full of emotion. What were you singing about?”

His gaze, erratic, fled your face and focused on the water rippling around his tail.

“I lost a friend.” He answered eventually, and although he didn’t whisper, it almost felt like he had. “I was trying to call them, pleading for them to come back to me.”

“I’m sorry.” You held your gaze trained on him until the brown, in the moonlight grey, eyes met yours again. Under your attention he stilled. “You must have liked them a lot if you were this desperate to have them with you again.”

He nodded, not losing the contact. His tongue flicked over his lips and the crease between his eyebrows returned before he spoke again, slowly, like he was picking his words with great care.

“They’re in a place I can’t reach. We don’t sing often. Your kind have made tales and warning stories of those you call Sirens, who lure sea-faring folk to their death by bewitching them. But it’s not like that. We protect what is most dear to us with the only thing more powerful than any weapon your kind could craft. We sing. But we don’t sing for destruction. We sing to make peace, to calm waves and to save those too weak to defend themselves.” He paused, the interruption minimally. “We sing for our loved ones, to heal and to lighten the mood and when they leave for their safe return.”

His face was uncharacteristically somber as he spoke, and you listened intently.

“Your friend,” You looked out over the ocean, thinking about how incredibly it had looked to see him swimming with the whales. “I hope they’ll come back to you soon. Even though that song was so beautiful, if it speaks of loneliness and the wish to see them again, I hope you won’t have to sing it too many times.”

Yukhei had taken the hand that had been lying on the wood between your bodies away, holding it by its wrist with the fingers of the other hand.

His expression was unreadable as you looked up into it, tried to see anything.

“Where is your friend? How far have they gone?”

The tips of his fingers were dry but still cold to the touch when they met with the skin of your own hand. You felt them when he moved his hand up your arm, to your shoulder and then across your back.

Tears collected on the waterline of his eyes as he turned to fully face you, looking down and taking in every detail of your face.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, and you didn’t know what for exactly.

He closed his eyes before leaning forward, his chin on your shoulder and his arms holding your tightly.

With the weight of his arms over yours it wasn’t easy but you did your best to hug him back, waiting if he would explain.

His voice was husky when he drew a shaking breath through the hot liquid running over his cheeks and collecting in your cardigan.

“I don’t know where my friend went, but it was because I left them first, but they’ve come back now and I’m so happy but I’m so sorry.”

He tightened his hug and in the breathless moment in which he squeezed you as close as he could you realized he’d meant you.

He’d been singing about you.

With your hands cupping over his shoulders you pushed him back a little to be able to see his face properly.

He squinted his eyes at you through sniffling a little.

“You were singing for me? To come back to you?” He nodded, biting on his lower lip and covering the hand you’d put on his cheek to wipe away his tears. “You wanted me to come back? But- You were the one who didn’t show up. Who left without saying anything.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if he knew exactly what you were saying was true.

“I know. It was rude of me and I hate myself for doing it and- That’s not true, I was there when you put the photo on the pier, but I didn’t show myself which makes it even worse and I’m so sorry but when you said you were going to leave soon I just- I didn’t know what to do. Of course I knew you’d be gone sooner or later, of course I knew it shouldn’t mean anything to save you from drowning, but I still hoped… We would have more time.”

The corners of his mouth drooped down alongside his shoulders.

“In a way, I- I didn’t want the time I could spend with you to end yet, and that’s why I didn’t show- And also you said you wanted to see lots of the village, and I thought I kept you long enough but-”

You sighed deeply. “I understand.”

He closed his mouth and looked up to you ruefully.

“I’m sorry too. For not telling you earlier.”

This time it was him sighing, taking your hand from his cheek to his lap and curling both his palms around yours.

“Can we watch the stars together tonight?” He asked after a bit of silence in which he’d tapped on your skin in what you were pretty sure was morse code for something but you didn’t know morse and so didn’t know what he was saying.

“Yeah.”

Lying side by side, with your pinkies linked, Yukhei pointed at brighter spots overhead with his free hand, telling you about formations and tales he’d been told as a child about those who swam among the stars.

He described a gigantic whale, swimming through the sky, and you told him how humans had been to the moon and how there was no air in space and eternal cold that would freeze anyone who didn’t wear a suit.

“I don’t believe that.” Yukhei said after a moment of consideration. “Your stories are a lot less fun than mine.”

You turned your head to look at him, watch him looking into the endless dark, and laughed at his defiant comment.

There was no point in disagreeing with him or trying to prove what you had said was right and the space-whale he was sung to about wasn’t.

There were many things he wouldn’t believe if you would have told him, but you figured the concept of space was one of the most harmless he could choose to disbelief.

In the grew hours of dawn the day of your departure you sat in front of Yukhei on the walkway again, legs crossed and hands folded.

He had dipped down into the water for a moment before setting himself next to you again, and now your eyes switched between his hands, which he held cupped close, and his face; holding barely contained excitement.

“Okay, close your eyes and open your hands.”

“If this is a fish you caught for me, I told you, I can’t eat raw-”

He rolled his eyes but failed to bite back his grin.

“I promise, it’s not. Not this time.”

Mouth falling open you stared at him. “Wh- Not this time? When did you plan to give me a live fish?!”

“Can you please close your eyes now I want to give you your present.” He pouted, and finally you complied. Closing your eyes against the pastel colours of the coming sunrise in the sky, holding open your hands.

Something was placed into them; thin, with a small roundness to it at one point.

The wetness of Yukhei’s fingers brushed the side of your palms as he retracted his hands and then made a small sound, signalling it was okay for you to look.

Blinking down on your hands you took in what he’d put there.

It was dark with water but it looked like yarn or some other string, twisted and knotted and braided into something that was barely large enough to be a necklace.

Three small pearls were woven into it, a bigger one the size of your pinky finger’s nail flanked by two smaller ones.

You looked up into Yukhei’s nervous face.

“We give pearls or other pretty things as gifts, but my kind doesn’t wear bracelets or anything like that because it can get caught on sharp edges and strangle us; We put everything we get gifted into our hair, because it’ll hold on to it for us, but for you I had to improvise because your hair is dead and won’t be able to hold them.”

Your fingers curled around the gift protectively, but faced with this new information you couldn’t help but wonder.

“Your hair is alive?”

The merman nodded, hands clasped in front of him. “Touch it! You’ll see what I mean.”

Even more careful than when you had first stroked over his tail you now reached out with a hand, two fingertips brushing the darkened strands.

To your bewilderment and elation the hairs pulled away from the skull and wrapped around your fingers for a moment.

Spurred on by the soft giggle of Yukhei and the positive first contact you extended the rest of your hand and ran it over the side of Yukhei’s head.

The strands parted easily for you, reached up and placed themselves around your hand, slipped into the creases on your palm and held you in place for a moment before giving you free again.

“That’s amazing!”

Yukhei’s grin was big and contagious as you gave him his space again.

“Pretty cool right?”

“Yeah!” You sat in front of him for a moment longer, marvelling at him, all of him.

“You want me to help you put the necklace on?” He offered, but you insisted on trying it on your own first before having to relent to his help after not being able to fit the small wooden pearl through the designated clasp.

The necklace sat against your throat like a choker, and even though Yukhei expressed worry at how tight it was you waved it off and told him it was fine.

“Thank you so much.” You held out your hand, waiting for him to put his own into yours.

He did, thumb rubbing over the skin around your wrist.

“Thank you.” He echoed, smile wide and warm. It simmered down a little the longer you held eye-contact, until he looked away and cleared his throat.

“You’ll come back soon, right? I want to introduce you to everyone.”

“I have free time during winter again, but maybe I’ll be able to come by for Autumn break.” Yukhei groaned a the prospect of having to wait that long, pouted at you shamelessly.

“That face won’t get me back to you faster, I still have to earn the money it’ll cost me to come and stay here, you pebble.”

The playful expression replaced the half-hearted sulking, and he nudged your knee.

“Don’t you have a bus to catch?”

You checked the time.

“I think I have enough time for one last hug.”

And even though the saltwater still covered him head to fin, you held on to the other until the sun had almost fully risen above the horizon. Unwilling to let go just yet.

Months later you sat on the bus, face so close to the window the glass fogged over. There was a lot less green outside, and the thick clouds didn’t let through much daylight, but you could make out the rocks in the distance, the roofs of the houses.

In your luggage, safely stored underneath your seat, were gifts for a certain someone, alongside a neoprene suit and diving goggles.

Soon you would check into the hostel, to get rid of the bag. But after that there’d be nothing holding you back from venturing through the path of trees, down the slope of the hill and onto the wooden planks above the water - you’d see how many stones Yukhei had been able to gather and put there, one for each day he’d waited for you. And then you’d put them all into a single heap, a pyramid maybe, and wait.

You had a feeling it wouldn’t be too long before the familiar blinking of the pearls and glittery things in his hair would break through the surface, and you smiled to yourself, looking forward to being able to hug him again.

Soon.

You settled back into your seat and watched the world outside, watched the town by the ocean grow closer every moment.

i hope you liked it! ♥

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justheretobreakthings · 5 years ago

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Kings Over Aces - Chapter 2

(Previous Chapter) (Next Chapter)

Word Count: 3,114 (Total Word Count: 6,290) Read on AO3

Story Summary:

The Voltron Coalition has an alliance in the works with the resource-rich planet of Yuipra, and it’s the paladins’ job to keep on the king’s good side while the deal is made. That shouldn’t shouldn’t be too great a challenge; after all, they’ve courted plenty of planets before for the sake of alliances.

Unfortunately, things are made much more complicated when the king takes a special interest in Keith.

Fic content warnings for attempted rape/non-con.

“I’m telling you, he wants me,” Lance said, for what was probably the dozenth time since breakfast.

Pidge rolled her eyes, stretching her leg out along the couch to kick Lance where he was seated on the opposite cushion without moving from where she’d comfortably settled with her tablet. The paladins were spending their downtime after training this morning in the lounge, all having claimed their usual spots to relax, but Lance harping on about last night’s dinner was making it even more difficult than usual - which was saying something, as the weirdly translated Altean books Keith tried to pass time with were hard enough to focus on anyway. “He does not ‘want’ you,” she said. “You think every person we ever meet at these coalition things ‘wants’ you, and how many times has that been the case?”

“Plenty of times,” Lance answered. “I’m not gonna be able to keep track exactly.”

“It’s sort of a numbers game by this point, isn’t it?” Hunk asked, tilting his head back from where he was seated cross-legged on the floor in front of the other two to join the conversation. “You flirt with basically every single person you find attractive - ”

“ - And your standards for that aren’t exactly sky-high,” said Pidge, “So you’ve probably hit on like five hundred people since we got shot out into space. Which would make your success rate - ”

“All right, I see where this math is going,” Lance groaned. “For your information, I do not flirt with nearly that many people.”

“Good point,” Pidge said. “Just winking and making finger guns probably doesn’t count. Or at least only counts as, like, half a flirt.”

“It’s not - you know what, whatever. We’re not talking about my overall track record, just last night. And that king was totally into me. Basically talked just to me the entire night. You saw, right, Keith?” He turned to Keith, who silently cursed his inability to turn invisible. “Back me up here.”

“Um,” Keith said. “Well, you certainly talked to him a lot.”

“I was replying to him, that’s how conversations work. But he was totally flirting with me, right?”

“Uh…”

Lance huffed and crossed his arms. “Okay, that doesn’t count for anything. Keith probably wouldn’t recognize flirting if his life depended on it.” Keith let out a little harrumph of indignation. Sure, that was true, but there was no need to just announce it like that.

“Nah, I’m gonna go ahead and take his testimony as gospel,” Pidge said. “Sorry, Lance. You bombed.”

“Need me to get Kaltenecker to make you some ice cream?” Hunk asked, reaching up to pat Lance on the leg.

“I’m like two seconds away from slapping all of you.”

“The bitter sting of rejection is such an ugly look on you,” Pidge said drily. A small beep sounded from her tablet, and a moment later, she sat up. “Allura just messaged. They’re getting an incoming signal from Yuipra, we’re probably gonna solidify alliance terms. Gotta go join ‘em in the bridge.”

Lance groaned. “Why do we all have to go? Shiro and Allura are in charge of all of that.”

“I dunno, to make a good impression?” Pidge stretched as she stood from the couch. “Besides, you should be excited. Get another chance to talk to the love of your life.”

“At no point did I ever say anything about him being the ‘love of my life’,” Lance said as he and Hunk reluctantly stood too. “All I said was that he wants me. Which I still maintain is one hundred percent true.”

“If you say so. You coming, Keith?”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Keith said. He shut off his electric reader and dropped it onto the seat to come back to later before joining the others, shuffling in behind them for the short walk to the bridge.

When they arrived, joining Allura and Shiro on the deck, the holoscreen was already on and tuned to an image of King Olren, the arms of two of his ever-present guards just on the edges of the frame. The discussion was already in motion, but Olren paused mid-sentence as the door to the bridge slid open.

“Ah, the rest of your paladins have arrived, I see,” he said, smiling down at them as they took their places on the bridge. “It is a delight to see you all again.”

“You too, your majesty,” Hunk said.

Allura smiled as she looked back over her shoulder at the others. “King Olren was just telling us that he was quite impressed by our performance yesterday, as well as our engagement with his people at the banquet.”

“Quite so,” Olren said with a nod. “Your presence went over very well amongst my nobility. And, of course, I was just as enamored by Voltron as anyone in my court. Your knowledge and passion are obvious. Now, I’ve spent the morning reviewing the terms of our potential alliance with my advisors. Yuipra’s stance on interplanetary relations is perfectly in line with your current mission statement of resistance against the Galra empire and liberation of those under its control. However, I must confess slight apprehension over how the citizenry would respond to engaging in a conflict in which we are currently not directly involved. As your proposed terms are outlined right now, the use of our resources versus the coalition benefits that you would grant us in return seem rather unbalanced.”

“That’s only in the short term,” Shiro spoke up. “We may currently be thin on benefits, but that’s entirely due to past Galra occupation that we are working to wipe out. Already we’re seeing the signs of environmental improvements and economic growth from planets that have been liberated and are being helped by the Coalition now. The trade agreements and political relations we build now will yield positive growth over time, and in the long run it’ll more than offset the costs of your involvement.”

“And you have evidence to back your claims of long-term benefits?”

“I would be more than happy to send you any details about the Coalition’s fiscal plans and projections of resource growth that you need,” said Allura. “You will find that we have been nothing but meticulous.”

Olren nodded. “That would do nicely, Princess, if you would be so kind. I must admit, your confidence alone is quite the sales pitch.” Allura lifted her chin, a proud smile on her lips, and Olren grinned back. “The rapid creation and propagation of the Voltron coalition makes ever more sense. It’s certainly likely that Yuipra will have its part in it as you make history.”

“We thank you, your majesty,” Allura said.

“I am still not, however, quite ready yet to solidify an alliance with your coalition,” Olren continued, and Allura deflated. “Not due to problems with any stipulations we’ve laid out as yet, but because I like to know those with whom I ally on a more… personal level, you see. It is one thing to be able to ally with someone politically, but such bonds are far more meaningful, not to mention harder to break, when they are personalized to a nigh emotional level. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Allura paused a moment before answering, “Well - well, yes, of course. I completely understand where you are coming from.”

“Excellent. Now, I’ve gotten a bit of a chance to gain some familiarity during our banquet, but if Voltron would be so willing to indulge me, I really prefer to do so more privately. One-on-one, actually.”

“All right,” Allura said slowly. “So, erm, what, exactly, are you proposing?”

“Suppose I’ll get right down to it,” Olren said through a little breath of a laugh. “I wish to host an intimate dinner in my private dining room tomorrow evening. And I would like your red paladin to accompany me as my date.”

Lance cast the others a grin - a smirk that seemed to say, I told you so - before he stepped forward and bowed grandly. “Your majesty,” he said as he straightened up, “It would be an honor to - ”

“No, no, not him,” Olren said, waving a hand dismissively. “The red paladin.”

“I am the red - ” Lance started, before his face fell and his eyes widened. “Wait, do you mean - are you - are you talking about Keith?!” he spluttered, gesturing with his thumb toward Keith, who stood in stunned silence as all the eyes in the room spun toward him.

“Yes. Keith,” Olren said with a smile. “I do hope you will accept my invitation?”

“Uh - I - I - ” Keith stammered out.

“Is, ah, is that really necessary?” Shiro asked. “Voltron functions as a unit, you see, and there’s no need to have only one of us to dinner rather than the whole group.”

“If you function as a unit, then your red paladin’s character should reflect that of all of you,” Olren said. “You need not worry, really, over the effect on our potential alliance. I must admit, I’ve found myself quite taken with his disposition already. But you do understand why I may want to take the time to personally assure myself that we will be a good match, yes?”

“Understandable, yes,” Allura said. “I’m sure that we can arrange - ” She paused as she glanced back over her shoulder at Keith, whose knees were growing shaky and who had long since felt his face heating into a bright red.

Allura furrowed her brow and turned back toward Olren. “Could you please grant us a few doboshes to discuss our availability?” she asked. “We will be happy to resume this conversation shortly.”

“Of course,” Olren said. “I look forward to a call. And I must admit, I do expect to like what I hear. I’m not in the habit of taking ‘no’ for an answer.” He cast them all one last smile before his holoscreen went dark and then disappeared.

Allura let out a breath before turning around toward Keith. “Keith,” she said. “Are you ill?”

Keith blinked at her. “Am I… what?”

“You look ill.”

Slowly he shook his head. “No, I’m - I’m not sick.”

“Because if you have any sort of bug that the king might catch, that would certainly not reflect well, nor be ideal for you and your state of mind during a dinner. Or if something in their meal disagreed with you - ”

“It’s just, um - this is - he said.” Keith took a deep breath. “He said - he said he wanted me to be his date.”

“Yes?” Allura said. “And?”

“And, well, I, uh - I don’t - I don’t really have - ” Allura tilted her head, and Keith took a deep breath before finishing, “I don’t date.”

“Oh for the love of - ” Lance groaned. “Of course. Of course Mullet’s never been on a date before. We should’ve known.”

“Is that all?” Allura asked. “Keith, I’m sure it won’t be much of a problem. Everyone gets nervous the first time they go on a date. We could always go through some etiquette with you, some conversation starters. We’ll no doubt have to brief you on a number of courting customs anyway, seeing as nobility is rather more particular in how they go about it, but I’m certain that - ”

“No, look, that’s not it,” Keith interrupted. “It’s - it’s not that I haven’t dated. I mean, I, um, I haven’t, but it isn’t - it’s just that, I don’t date.”

“I’m… not sure I follow,” Allura said.

With a grunt of frustration, Keith brought a hand up to card his fingers through his hair as he searched for the words to explain it in a way she’d understand. “I just - I don’t do that, I - I don’t feel the things that people are supposed to feel when - when they’re on dates, like, the romance and all, they - they don’t - ”

“Hang on,” Pidge interrupted, lifting a hand and peering at him with narrowed eyes through her glasses. “Keith, are you aro?”

Keith felt his voice halt in his throat, and he crossed his arms and took a step back, ducking his head a little as he closed in on himself and avoided looking at his teammates’ faces. It wasn’t that he thought they’d react badly to it, or judge him for it - at least, he sure hoped they wouldn’t. It was just that this was personal, and he much would’ve preferred to come out when he was actually ready to, not just… like this.

But, of course, now that it was out there, it was out there. Not like there was any point in denying it. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Um, aroace, to be specific, but, uh, yeah. Yeah.”

He dared a glance up beneath his lashes. Pidge was nodding slowly in understanding, and Shiro was more or less expressionless - he’d already known, after all. The others all just appeared to be confused.

“I’m sorry, arrow?” Allura said. “Pidge, what is that?”

“Aro. Short for aromantic,” Pidge answered. “Means he doesn’t feel romantic attraction.”

“Wait, for real?” Lance said, his brow wrinkling and his eyes scanning Keith up and down as if looking for some sort of clue on his clothes to verify it.

“Yes, for real,” Keith snapped. “Why the fuck would I lie about something like that?”

Lance lifted his hands innocently. “Shit, man, I wasn’t accusing you of lying. Just, you know, processing the new information. Guess that kinda clears up some of the rumors that were going around the Garrison…”

For a moment Keith was about to demand some follow-up about these rumors, but decided to let it go for now. He’d overheard plenty of gossip about himself as a student on every other subject - whether he cheated on the sims and how he did it, how he got into the Garrison, his juvie history, his relationship to Shiro, his family. A couple rumors about his sexuality were a mere drop in the bucket. It wasn’t important now.

What was important was the matter at hand: the dinner date with King Olren. “Look, the point is, I don’t do the whole ‘dating’ thing. It’s - it’s not my thing. I wouldn’t be able to pull it off.”

Allura crossed her arms, tapping her finger pensively against her elbow. “Well, what if we trained you on it?”

Keith frowned at her. “What?”

“On dating. I’m sure we’d be able to give you sufficient instruction to handle a single dinner date. If we trained you, do you think you’d be able to manage?”

Keith took a step back. “Allura, I told you, I don’t feel - ”

“I know, I understand. I’m not asking you to be attracted to him. I know you can’t control that. But I also know that this could be a very advantageous alliance for Voltron, and a date with you seems to be the deciding factor. Would it be at all possible for you to, er… fake it?”

“Fake it?” Keith repeated incredulously.

“Yeah, yeah, that could work,” Lance said, nodding. “I mean, that’s not exactly hard to pull off, right? I’ve faked my way through dates before. You know, I meet someone online, but when I show up to the restaurant for a date it turns out they’re a total weirdo, so I smile through the dinner and make small talk and just sorta, like, humor them. Let them have a nice evening then get the fuck outta there.”

“What, you can’t just be up front about not liking them?”

“It’s called manners, Mullet.”

“Look, I’m not going to - ”

“They do kind of have a point, Keith,” Shiro interrupted.

Keith turned to him, taken aback. If anyone knew how uncomfortable Keith was over the concept of dating, it would be Shiro. Keith had only even learned about aromanticism and asexuality because Shiro had explained them to him, back in their Galaxy Garrison days, and his surrogate brother had held his hand tightly through the process of coming out for the first time. So him saying that Allura and Lance ‘had a point’ about sending him on a date… it was unexpected, to say the very least. “Shiro?” he said. “You - you think I should…”

“Keith, I’m not saying you need to, uh, take it very far,” Shiro said slowly. “I know you’ve got your boundaries, and I respect them. It’s just, well, it isn’t as though Olren is asking for your hand in marriage or anything. All he’s requested is a dinner date. I realize that it wouldn’t be a comfortable experience, but one awkward evening in exchange for all the resources Yuipra can offer… It would be a shame to have to pass it up.”

“Exactly,” said Allura, giving Shiro a grateful nod. “There’s no need to make it a bigger deal than it is. One dinner date. That’s all.”

“I mean, Olren’s certainly not my type either,” Shiro said with a shrug. “But if it was me he’d asked after, well, I wouldn’t love it, but I’d take one for the team, you know?”

Something rolled in Keith’s stomach and he swallowed down a lump in his throat. That was true. Shiro would do this without hesitation. Hell, even if it had been a woman asking, which would definitely leave Shiro uncomfortable to all get out, he would take the fall. Because that’s what he does - he makes sacrifices for his team. That’s what a leader does. And Keith was the leader now.

One date, he repeated mentally. He could handle just one date, surely. For Voltron’s sake.

“All right,” he said, his voice coming out sounding quieter and dryer than he would have liked. “All right, I’ll, uh, I’ll do it. You can let him know.”

Allura let out a breath of relief and smiled at him. “Thank you, Keith. I’ll get a missive off to him at once, and we can start training.”

“You know what I still don’t understand?” Lance said as Allura turned away toward her podium.

“What?” asked Keith.

“This guy had a dinner with our whole team,” Lance said. “He was sitting at the same table as Shiro and Allura and, well, me… and he goes for Keith. I just don’t get it.”

“Lance,” Shiro said with a frown.

“Look, I’m just saying what we’re all thinking. It’s not like he didn’t have options. He actually chose to thirst after the mullet. Out of everyone there. This was a conscious decision on his part.”

“Everyone has their own tastes.”

“It’s like if he’d gone to an art museum and decided that his favorite exhibit was the bathroom door.”

“That’s enough, Lance,” Shiro scolded.

Lance shook his head. “I dunno, man. Just doesn’t make any sense to me.”

Keith could only shrug in reply. It didn’t make any sense to him either.

#aroace keith #keith #vld keith #voltron fic #vld fic #my writing #fic: kings over aces

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codyfernmorelikedaddyfern · 5 years ago

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Before We Hid - Xavier x fem!reader // Part Two

Part two of the prequel for We Won’t Have To Hide is here! Sorry this took me so long to post, it’s also really short compared to the rest but I’ve got more coming!

Description: A week has gone by wince the meteor shower and (Y/N) asks Xavier for a lift home, promising him a date at the end of it.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1903

12th of April 1984

Shortly after Xavier unlocked the door to prepare the studio for his usual afternoon classes, he was surprised to be joined by (Y/N). The smallest hint of tension has been present once both of their minds were void of any trace of the weed they consumed the week before. They had not had the occasion to talk or even process what had transpired during the night.

"Hey" she softly whispered as she dropped her bag in it's usual spot. Xavier smiled at her, giving her a small nod. (Y/N) fumbled with her fingers for a bit before she decided to speak again. "How are you?" her voice asked as she looked up at him. His feet carried him closer to her, working on getting his tape in the boom box. "I'm alright, how are you?" Xavier replied, lightly leaning closer to her, a gentle smile across his lips.

(Y/N) looked over at him, making the mistake of linking her eyes to his and losing herself in the blue of his gaze. "I'm okay, I've got a favour to ask" she reverted back to looking at her fingers, watching Xavier's body language relax and inch himself slightly closer. "My car is still fucked, would you mind giving me a lift home tonight?" she bit the bullet and looked up to him once more, her lip lodged between her teeth. "Maybe we could stop for a milkshake for a... Date?" her voice was barely a whisper and Xavier's smile grew wider.

"Sure, I'll take you home" his waist folded as he gently bent forward, on the cusp of stealing a kiss from her but she shyly turned her face and took a step back at the sound of incoming steps. As the steps walked further down the hall, (Y/N) made eye contact with Xavier again. "You can't kiss me here, Xav. You said you were going to woo me" she softly teased with a mischievous look, reaching for his jacket and giving it a playful tug.

His lips reached for her again, igniting a small fire across (Y/N)'s cheeks while he kissed the tip of her nose. "You're right, and I'm a man of my words" he smiled before gently kissing her cheek. The class slowly filled in after a couple of minutes of them silently devouring each other's gaze. And He couldn't help but carry on looking at the way her body would shift and move during the length of his class.

The way she would giggle when she would bump into Montana by accident or the way she would give Chet her "evil eye" whenever he would tease her. It somewhat ignited a fire in his chest. He wanted the attention for him and if he didn't know any better, he would try to convince himself it was just because he wanted her to pay attention but at the end of the day, he was fully aware it was only the early signs of jealousy knocking at his door.

Shrouded with a thin coat of sweat, Xavier ushered everyone out of the room, (Y/N) tagging at the end of the file as usual. But this time she did not make eye contact with the instructor as she seemed to be totally taken by the conversation she was having with Chet. The knife twisted further in the blonde's stomach as he watched her disappear down the corridor, fighting off her ex boyfriend's tickles. Xavier's jaw loosened after he realised how tightly he had it clenched. He worked on his nightly ritual of closing up his classroom before making his way down to the lobby.

"Who needs a lift home besides (Y/N)?" Xavier asked as he slipped his backpack on his shoulders before adjusting the straps and finally looking up at the group of friends glued on the couch. His senses on high alert, Chet quickly jumped to his feet in protest. “No it’s fine, I can drop her, and you’re not even going this way.” The brunette quickly mumbled, the rest of his friends furrowing their brow at him. “Its okay, Chet, Xavier told me he had plans to go up so it’s not a problem” (Y/N) quickly followed, widening her eyes are her blond friend who quickly caught on the act. “Yeah, a date actually. I’ve got a date” Xavier shrugged, his eyes trailing off to Chet who rewarded him with a pout before asking details on the “mystery” girl. Lying his way through a half assed description, everyone was off of his back in under a minute, everyone passing off on the lift nicely offered by him.

As he made his way towards the door, Montana kept her gaze trained on their figures and there was something in the way Xavier watched her make her way past her as he held the door wide open, and something in the way he smiled at her as she looked back at him. Something about the way she blushed. And when she saw Xavier skips past her once more and offer her a wink and his hand to hold, she knew something was definitely going on. Living locally, Xavier barely drove the van to the studio, only when he really needed it or when they had a late afternoon plan. The walk to the tall white building in which Xavier lived was shorter than they both remembered. Maybe it was the small talks they blabbered on the way or maybe it was the feeling of their fingers so intimately intertwined. It’s only when he unlocked the van that he realised how much time had bled and when his palm left hers, a small shiver covered him at the slight chill it induced.

Just like the walk, the drive felt even shorter, this time lost in laughter’s and badly timed jokes and when he turned to face her at a red light and he realised how deeply she had been drinking in the sight of him, a light dusting of crimson covered his cheeks. It must have been years since he last felt himself blush over a girl. Maybe it was because this time, it felt different. The way his heart started to progressively quicken when they became friends, or the way he would feel himself get clammy got his mind in sync with it. This was special.

Parking in (Y/N)’s parking spot, they silently sat there for a few seconds, his face pulled in a fond smile while she couldn’t help herself but let her eyes explore every inch of his creamy complexion. The more she looked at him, the godlier he appeared. The pounding of her heart brought her back down to Earth. “Let’s go get a milkshake and the bigger portion of chips” she suddenly giggled. Xavier smiled some more before scoffing softly at her enthusiasm. He walked out of the van only for her to join him on her side. Nervously, he scratched the back of his neck. “Are you sure you want this to be a date? I’m happy to take you somewhere else” he sheepishly said, surprised to catch himself blush once more but her gentle giggle helped his haze focus on her. (Y/N)’s fingers grabbed on his before she quickly pulled him out of the stinky parking lot to cross the road to the brightly coloured diner sitting across the road.

Consuming their milkshakes and the night around a mess of giggles, and heartfelt conversations, sparks flew around at the most minute touch. Whether it was when she whipped some leftover ketchup smeared on his cheek or when he reached over the table to carefully stroke her knuckles. And everyone around looked, totally gobsmacked at the gentleness and their apparent genuine affection for one another. It’s only when they noticed the setting sun that they decided to exit the premises. “Do you want to run down to rent a movie?” (Y/N) pointed at the Blockbuster in the distance, earning a nod from Xavier. Quickly trotting up to the blue and yellow building, they walked up and down the aisles before settling on Flashdance and The Rocky Horror Picture Show. His smile grew wide when he noticed her absentmindedly rubbing circles against the back of his hand as they stood at the cashier. When (Y/N) raised her gaze to meet his once more, the urge to softly lean against her to capture her lips nearly overtook him.

Not even when they languidly stare at each other in the stuffy elevator, did he give in. Not even when she let him in her apartment, did he give in. Not even when she came back for her bedroom, in her short shorts and oversized hoodie. Not even when she sat there, curled up against the crook of his arm, her hands perched against his chest. God only know how much she wanted him to get it over and done with. And when she looked out, paused the VCR and rushed to her large window with nothing but an excited gasp, Xavier could only narrow his eyes to her. “There’s another meteorite shower!” she looked back at him before grabbing the covers littering the couch.

With a few chuckles, Xavier happily followed, walking and following her though the halls to reach the roof of her building. Halfhazardly, they both crumbled to the floor, mouth agape. Gingerly, she scooted closer to the point where her ‘friend’ pulled her up against his chest, letting her rest on his laps. With all the care in the world, he adjusted the blankets around her legs, trying his best to keep her warm with gentle caresses. “Did you make a wish?” Xavier softly whispered before directing his attention to her. Joining her gaze to his, she softly smiled and nodded. A gentle expression covered Xavier’s features as he felt himself melt at her soft traits. Bringing one hand up, he caressed her cheek, carefully cupping it as he studied her expression. Unsure if because of the temperature, the position or the situation but a flash of crimson embraced (Y/N)’s cheeks. At the sight of her flushed face, Xavier’s heart quickened and slowly, his hand travelled further back, only so he could carefully guide her face to his and finally feel her soft lips against his.

Like second nature, (Y/N)’s arms slunk out of the covers only to lace around the back of his neck, afraid he would break away before she could finally savour the feeling of not having to crave his lips against her anymore. And she wouldn’t. As she held onto him, Xavier sheepishly licked a small stroke against the soft lips of his girl before being allowed entrance. Just like second nature, the kiss deepened, the both of them allowing their tongue to taste, feel and play, exploring each other in the most intimate way possible. As it was all so intoxicating. So much in fact that breaking the kiss was near impossible now that this new passion was set ablaze. “Both of my wishes came true” she softly giggled, earning an interested look from Xavier as he wrapped his arms back around her waist, pulling her closer to him. “Mind telling me what they were?” he raised a playful eyebrow at her while she giggled some more.

“At first I wished for the best date of my life. And just then I wished for the best kiss of my life”

______________________________________________________________

Hiding squad: @idespac, @psychobitchtess, @hplotrfan, @tea-party-at-wonderland, @langdxn, @hecohansen31 & @blakewaterxx

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#xavier plympton #xavier plympton x reader #ahs 1984 #ahs #american horror story #american horror 1984 #american horror story 1984

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parniarazi · 5 years ago

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realignment + growth

I haven’t wrote here or in general much lately, as school and worked have picked up and kept me busy, even with doing it all from home! Pandemic aside, the world is moving quickly and it’s hard to keep up sometimes. Especially when big moments happen (like RBG passing), it can feel overwhelming and like nothing we can do matters. What helps me when I feel in over my head is just purging it all with a deep self-reflection that helps anchor me down to what I’m doing towards on a daily basis and how that’s working for me in the big picture. Going back through this blog, I briefly looked over what I wrote at the turn of the year, as 2020 was beginning. Even though things have felt very different and stagnant this year, I realized I’ve actually grown so much and come so far even in this short time!

A year ago right now, I was going through one of the most difficult times of my life, as major shifts were happening in all areas of my life. I had breezed through most of my undergrad, always feeling like school came rather easily to me and academia was an area I wanted to pursue because of this. I didn’t know what to do after graduation, reconciling between wanting to find a “good paying” job with my degree/interests, and wanting to do something that aligns with what I’m passionate about and can bring me a deeper sense of fulfillment. Since I was doing well in school and professors encouraged me when I told them I wanted to go to grad school‚ I figured pursing my PhD and becoming a professor was the way to go. I idolized my professors and loved my campus, so it wasn’t hard to envision myself doing this...at least until I actually started my grad program in political science. Last fall, I was failing and withdrew from a class for the first time, was concerned about having to pay back my scholarship for the semester, and had no idea what I would do if I left my program. I was desperately searching for a way out because I knew I could not thrive (or even survive) in the environment of my grad department— it was revealing some ugly realities and turned out be the opposite of everything I wanted in a career!

Fortunately, being on campus, I was able to talk to other people and departments and eventually found my home in the Communications grad program. I had a cross-listed class, and the Comm students were friendly and inviting, so I began talking to them and found out more about their program. They still seemed to have a soul unlike my own peers— so that was already a good sign! I definitely wanted to keep my soul and work in a field that would respect and pay me for my work. Keep in mind, while all this school/career crisis of wondering what I should do with my life was happening, it was also my first few months being moved out my parents house and living with my boyfriend for the first time. I was missing my family constantly, and adjusting to my new home/life while struggling with horrible anxiety that weighed me down like bricks on my chest.

It got to be too much sometimes— especially because on top of that, my income was tied to my school because I had just started as a graduate assistant in an office on campus. This was also my first real “job,” outside of what I considered to be my “fun college job” teaching swim lessons. Not only did school suck at this time for me, but I also hated this job and the people in my office. It worsened my anxiety, and I ended up going to the school clinic and getting a formal diagnosis (and medication) for anxiety for the first time in my life, even though I’ve dealt with it for as long as I can remember. This was a big step and turning point, because I refused to compromise my mental health and wellbeing for anything. A career that comes at such a cost is not for me— having balance and self-care are far too important to me.

While all of this was happening, I kept pushing my political science advisors to help me and connected with the Communications department about getting into their program instead. I had to advocate for myself harder than ever and push other people to help me, but in the end it was worth it! I finished the semester with the 2 courses I kept, managed to keep getting paid even though my position required full-time enrollment, and I ended up getting accepted into the Comm program by transferring instead of having to wait until the next fall to reapply. With my anxiety, and just being a more a shy/introverted person who was so scared I’d hardly ever speak up in class, I had to find my voice, create my own boundaries, and talk to adults I felt really uncomfortable talking to at first. Big lesson: you have to advocate and speak up for yourself until people see and hear you! It is always worth it, regardless of if you get what you want or not.

I started off the spring in my new program and settled in so much better from the start! I also kept my campus job I hated, but was searching desperately for internships and opportunities to get some actual Comm experience under my belt, as I was entering a new field I had zero experience in. I applied for everything I could and I got a little side gig working as a part-time student organizer for an intersectional feminist non-profit based out of Austin. I was super stoked to just get to do something I’m passionate about and get paid for it, even it was small. Little did I know, this would lead me to big things! Even with the pandemic hitting in the spring, I managed to finish my courses with A’s, work from home with my campus job (no more depressing office vibes!), and apply for dozens of internships. I ended up getting two remote internships over the summer that paid me— one with the same non-profit I was working with as a Digital Intern and another similar position with a different non-profit. I was finally gaining some of the experience and skills I really needed to start a career in this field. Even though the non-profit route was not what I had in mind, I loved my internships and the teams I worked with, and it was so rewarding.

It wasn’t easy working long hours from my laptop on my dining table, but it did have its own perks. No bras or dress pants or waking up early to get ready and drive in traffic— it’s a hell yes from your fave introvert! Another pandemic-inspired moment was finally getting a dog! Even through this seems irrelevant it actually was really in perfect alignment with what I wanted and timing. I’ve wanted a dog for as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved animals and with my anxiety it was something I hoped would help at least a little bit. My parents never wanted us to have a dog and I grew up with them telling me it was a huge responsibility so even after I moved out I hesitated and wanted to give myself time to adjust and make money before taking on that responsibility. This summer, I started pushing my boyfriend to look into fostering programs to help me adjust to having a dog at home, and we did but had no luck. One day, I saw a friend posting about a lost dog they found who needed a home. She was cute and I wanted to go see her just to scope it out, and of course the universe brought the most perfect little dog into my life at the most perfect time!

I was just finishing up my internship and had a few weeks of down time before the semester started, so it was the perfect time to adjust to having my new dog, Sage, around. Since then, we’ve bonded so much and I love just having another little creature around the house! She really does bring warmth and light into my life. She pushes me to get outside more even when I feel shitty, she makes me have a more consistent routine, and just helps alleviate my stress while connecting me with my inner child and inner caretaker at the same time. During the latter half of this quarantine, my boyfriend and I also had our share of struggles and fights we had to work through. Like anything worth having, it took effort to work through some rough patches, but at the end of the day I believe in the power of love and its ability to persevere and heal, even in the most difficult times. Not to mention, having our little Sage around even helped us through it! This taught me to trust that the right things will happen in the right timing, and the right people will make an effort to stick it out with you.

I was incredible lucky and blessed that several things I was manifesting and working hard towards happened in perfect alignment. First, I got a scholarship from my grad school that allowed me go back full-time and only have to pay half of my tuition (big plus since I was paying this myself). Secondly, one of the ladies I had worked with during my Digital internship found another position and was leaving the non-profit I had worked with, and she recommended me for a part-time version of her position. They extended me this offer shortly before my semester started for school. I planned to keep my campus job, since it was staying remote too, and I wanted to stack up some savings after the COVID-life lessons I’d been learning. I knew it was going to be a challenge to maintain the personal/self-care balance I need in life with my now full-time class load and 2 part-time jobs. However, I felt so fortunate to have these opportunities while so many people across the country are struggling to keep normalcy going or even stay afloat during this time. Especially not being able to travel, go out much, or do other things, I figured what better time than now to just buckle down to work hard and make major moves towards what I want.

The universe is blessing me with this alignment and opportunity right now— it’s giving me everything I worked for in this past year. Especially with my new job at the non-profit, the team is incredibly kind but also puts serious support behind their staff. They’re paying me pretty well, but also want to transition me to a full-time staff member at their Austin office after I graduate! They’re mentoring me and teaching me so much, plus I’m getting to know a network of professionals who work in organizing, advocacy, and other important work that directly helps people! Like I literally could not have asked for anything better and more me! Life lesson: It’s worth struggling for a bit and diving into the unknown as long as you feel like it’s the right thing to do for you.

My parents had wanted me to stay in the PhD program. I knew in my gut and heart that it wasn’t going to work for me though, so I split the second I could. I trusted myself, advocated for myself, and worked through the scary uncertainties about if I would ever find a job I liked and that paid me well. I knew changing career paths would give me a chance to open myself up to new things that align better with who I am and what I desire in life and work. Here I am a year later, and I wouldn’t have gotten any of these amazing opportunities if I hadn’t trusted myself and worked hard to forge my path. Although this year turned out to be nothing like what any of us had planned, I’m so privileged and lucky that it turned out to be a year of incredible milestones and growth for me nonetheless!

Today, with this new moon energy and the powerful seasonal shift of fall on the verge of unfolding, I felt the need to make these reflections as a reminder to myself that hard work pays off. Doing what’s right pays off. Doing work that matters really fucking pays off. Fall is a special season that allows us to harvest the seeds we’ve sown all year. It’s cheesy, but I’m a sucker for being in tune with nature and the seasons, trusting each season will bring its own negatives and positives that foster growth or death in the right places, restoring a greater balance in the ways that we need.

With each season, I am growing into a stronger, wiser, more beautiful version of myself. I am deeply grateful for everything, both the good and bad in my life, because every detail is a puzzle piece that allows for the big picture of my path and place in the world to unfold. I’ve also been fostering patience and maturity, as I navigate this pandemic world and knowing (unlike many other people my age) that as much as I miss the “normal world” too, it’s not worth risking my own health or the health of anyone else to have “fun.” I can reinvent the ways in which I bring joy and fun into my life, while staying safe and trusting that those moments and activities will make their way back in my life eventually as things get better. It’s all temporary.

I am unshakable in my roots and focused on what is important. My vibe is so strong and beautiful, it’s no surprise that I’m not for everyone! Of course, there are areas like friendships and my social life that I’ve put on the back burner for now, but I know as I’m working on myself and just being authentic in putting myself out there, the right people will make their way into my life at the right time! Growing up is strange anytime but especially in this moment, and in some ways I’ve grown apart from who I thought I was, but I also feel more connected to myself than ever. I am healing each day with the light and love in my life— I don’t need anyone’s approval and have nothing to prove to anyone but myself!

My value and my place in the world doesn’t require anyone’s approval and is not tied to down to any single thing. It comes through in the love I give and receive, it comes through in the way my soul feels when I wake up, it comes through in the literal beauty I get to experience in the world. I went through a negative slump in the late summer and my anxiety was majorly triggered these past several weeks as I re-adjusted to full-time school and my work. This new moon has brought great clarity, a sense of deeper renewal, and turning a new leaf as I return home to myself. To my positive outlook and perseverance that has brought me to this point. Life is nothing without the little moments of joy and love— again, just let me corny and say that aligning back to being present and enjoying those little things is really all that matters.

My past self would be so proud of me and where I am today. I worked for and earned every beautiful moment that comes my way, and I intend on giving that back to others. Every ray of light that enters me, every penny of abundance I receive, I intend on reflecting right back, because nothing is meant to just be absorbed. It’s nothing unless it’s reflected back into the world in meaningful ways, whether those are tangible or not. I trust that I am making my mark by simply being me and being that reflection. This is how history changes course, and patterns are broken with new ones created. I’ll end with a few manifestations and mantras for this fall-winter season we’re entering!

M A N I F E S T A T I O N S

☽ The people will win, because our power truly is greater than that of those in power. We all deserve better, and so many people are putting in tireless work to make that better world a reality. Thing may not be perfect, now or ever, but making progress and supporting those who need it the most is always a win and it is coming our way because there is a shift happening that the world will have to keep up with.

☽ I will reconnect with my more creative side, allowing my potential to shine through even more. Whether it’s for work or for my own hobbies, I will continue finding outlets for myself to create things that feel authentic and important to who I am, but to also fill in gaps where I feel like others need it.

☽ I will stay rooted and grounded in my spiritual practices, even when they’re the easiest things to give up when life gets busy, that just means they’re even more necessary to stay connected with! I will make time for journaling, playing, meditating, yoga, cooking, and other activities that bring me in tune with my natural state as a human.

☽ I will connect and find community. Through being my most authentic self and working through my scars, my negative patterns, and my own blocks, I will find a sense of community with others and find people on my same wavelength who I can connect with. No expectations in mind or idealized version of friendship in mind, just pure desire to connect with others and mutually contribute to each others’ lives in positive ways

☽ Love will persevere and heal as its meant to, in both my relationship and family. Everything will be okay and work out just fine, if not better, than I expect. Pavel and I will be okay and keep growing together, and my family will be okay in staying healthy and strong through this time as something better arises for my dad’s work situation.

M A N T R A S

☽ I am focused on what matters right now.

☽ I am strong, powerful, and capable of doing what I set my mind to.

☽ I have a kind and beautiful energy that anyone would be lucky to have.

☽ I can find presence and joy in the little moments.

☽ I can find patience and trust that everything will happen as its meant to.

#reflection #2020 life #words #personal #new moon

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