#this summer has been a real test of my patience but you saved me and believe me when i say i’m not exaggerating | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alreadyblondenow · 4 years

Text

Melt with you | Lee Taeyong

✦ Lee Taeyong x reader ✦ Fluff, Smut, Smut, Smut, Angst, Jack Frost AU ✦ 2/5 for HOLIDAY SERIES: Once Upon A December

Summary: After being the guardian of winter, Taeyong finds himself falling in love with you while he takes care of your daughter secretly. “I’ll see you in your next life,” he says, and so he did. He waited for your next life and make you fall in love with him, until Taeyong can’t cheat on fate anymore and decided to give you to your real soulmate.

Word count: 8,550k

Warnings: A lot of smut, unprotected sex and protected sex, mentions of sex, mentions of oral sex, and oral sex (female receiving), swearing, mentions of other idols, fingering, accidental period sex, trying to have a baby but can’t, virginity loss, virgin taeyong, experienced reader, poor taeyog (no money), mentions of dying, almost dying Taeyong, pregnancy test and getting a negative result always, mentions of rough sex, mature themes, established relationship, divorce.

A/N: PURE FICTION. Inspired by the movie Jack Frost, Rise of the Guardians, Marriage Story, 500 days of summer.... Personally I wanted this to be my own version of Jack Frost and focused a lot with Taeyong and so much about the reader sorry :( but I think I did a pretty bad job about that. Jaehyun is a cupid here, and Doyoung is the easter bunny. Dont forget that hehehe. hope you enjoy.

The snow was pretty thick today and according to the news, there will be a snowstorm that will hit the town by late afternoon. Running like the wind and flying fast, the spirit of winter that makes the town cold and ready for the Holiday season came out to enjoy the said storm. As the spirit of winter, Taeyong did not just go out today so he could have a great time, but he has to make sure that the town will be safe once the storm arrives.

“Can we go out and skate? I promise I’ll be back before the storm arrives” your nine year old daughter whines to you and your husband, Taeil. You look at Taeil while he chews his pancakes, and shook his head. “No. It’s too dangerous” he says.

“But-“

“No buts, baby. You can play indoors and you can skate all you want after the storm” he reasons out. She pouts and crossed her arms, giving her father a look, and did not finish her breakfast. Even though Taeil said no, his daughter is so stubborn that she sneaked out to meet her friend from behind their house to go skating.

The storm is fast approaching and the wind is getting stronger and it is slowly becoming a blizzard. When the little girl soon realizes that she made the wrong decision because she sees that it’s obviously dangerous, it was too late because they seem to have lost their way back home. “I can’t see a thing! Don’t let go of my hand!” she shouts at her friend, squeezing her hand so tight so she won’t lose her. The wind was so strong that they can’t move their bodies, not to mention it was so cold and it’s getting really hard to try and move.

“Didn’t your parents told you not to go out! There’s a storm coming- here give me your hand” Taeyong came out of nowhere and helped the girls through the storm and guide their way back home like the guardian that he is. He made sure that the girls will go home safely so he turned into his human form and brought them home safely. Your daughter hugged you so tight and quickly apologized for being stubborn and promised she won’t do it again.

While Taeyong on the other hand, watches you and your daughter reunite, he felt the world slow down and feel every snowflake fall oh so slowly when he saw your face. You’re so beautiful he thought. It took one look for him to completely fall in love with you, his heart melts at how you hold your daughter with such care and full of love. Being a mother suits you. But then he saw your husband Taeil coming towards you and your daughter to hug her tightly. Of course, you’re married already, Taeyong murmurs. “Thank you for saving our daughter and her friend” Taeil thanks Taeyong sincerely for what he has done.

“Don’t mention it. I’ll get going” Taeyong smiled and looked at your beauty one last time before he leaves, I’ll see you in your next life.

From there on, Taeyong became your daughter’s secret guardian until the winter season is finally over just so he can see you. But whenever you’re with your husband, he stops himself to respect your marriage and remind himself that it’s not yet his time to love you. He figured his time will come and he will have the chance to grow old with you too, all he has to do is wait so there's no need to get jealous. It was a long wait for Taeyong, but he endured it while fulfilling his duty as the spirit of winter.

Every winter season, Taeyong comes back to your house and see how you’ve been while he was gone. Too bad he can’t be with you every second because he couldn't come over during the summer. But every winter, the spirit followed you like a shadow and admire your beauty with every chance he got.

After years and years of waiting, Taeyong’s suffering is finally over now that you’re gone and ready to be born again. Although he has to wait for a couple of years before he can approach you, introduce himself and make you fall in love with him, Taeyong was really excited and happy.

The spirit of winter waited for you during the spring, summer, fall, and winter for years and years. Watching you grow up, watching you go to school until you finish college, even watch you have your first heartbreak. Love is patient and Taeyong can and will stretch his patience for you until the right time comes.

“So she’s the one? Is this really worth it?” Jaehyun the cupid whines. Some of the guardians are with him and here to watch him leave and pursue love. They were all against it because Taeyong could lose his powers and die eventually, but he will not change his mind now.

“Being a human is hard, you know that right?” the easter bunny reminds his best friend, trying so hard to stop him.

“In five minutes, her car will break down in that street” Taeyong breathes in deeply, feeling excited but somehow sad because his friends aren’t supporting him and have been trying to change his mind until the last minute. “I’ve been taking care of kids that I don’t know, I’ve been doing my duty… now let me take care of her”

Soon his friends gave up and gave him a tight hug before he transforms and become a human. They will miss him of course, not to mention they don’t know how long will Taeyong be away. Just as he predicted, your car broke down on the side of the street and he has never been so excited. As we walk towards where your car broke down, his hair is slowly turning brown from silver white, the halo in his eyes is gone, and now that he’s human he can feel cold now.

“Here goes nothing” he murmurs and walked under the snowstorm, cold and freezing. He walked past your car, which got stranded in the middle of the road because of the storm, you see him and bought his acting and did not have second thoughts to call him out.

“Hey!” you got out of the car, struggling to go call him but Taeyong heard you well. He slowly turned towards you and walked weakly, Doyoung is right being a human is hard. “You must be freezing. Come inside my car we can wait for this storm to pass, please” you begged. Of course, he accepted your offer and went back inside your car with you. The moment you two were settled inside safely, he felt bad for making you come after him under the storm but he didn’t have a choice.

He wanted to look at your face like how he normally does but now is different because you can see him already. “I’m Taeyong. Thank you for helping me” he started, putting his hands towards the heater. It was a sweet moment for him and you have no idea. You have no idea how long he has waited for this moment to happen, you have no idea how many times he imagined this scenario in his head.

“I’m Y/n. Why are you walking under this storm? Did your car broke down and you went out to get some help?”

Taeyong was once again turned into stone because he can’t believe that you can talk to him now, he shook his head and answered your question. “Y-yes. My car broke down and my heater stopped working” lies. Taeyong stopped talking so he could stop lying to you. He admired your face while you enjoy the limited heat, you looked much younger than the first time he met you but you’re still beautiful. Even more beautiful actually.

Your cursing brought him back to reality again and started getting worried because you’re frowning. “Oh- shit, this isn’t happening” you whine and looked at him, “gosh I’m sorry. The heater stopped, it must be because of my car’s battery. Shit we are going to freeze here,” you said your sorry so many times to the guy sitting beside you because you’re the one who offered helped but now that your heater stopped working you feel ashamed for dragging him.

“No no. Don’t be” you watch him remove his jack and let him wrapped it around you. “There, I’m returning the favor. Were even now. Seriously, I’m fine and I’m thankful for you” His smile warms your heart and suddenly your worries banished the moment he said he’s thankful to you.

Hours have already passed and Taeyong wanted to go out and look for help now because you’re freezing and soon you’ll be sick. He has an idea but he’s scared you won’t like it and you’ll think of him as a pervert, but he nicely explained his plan and cleared his intentions so he won’t scare you. “If we don’t share body heat… you can end up getting sick and that’s the last thing we want right now. We can… c-cuddle until help finds us” he was getting shy too but you think that he’s sweet for thinking about your health even though you just met a few hours ago.

You accepted his offer and soon you and Taeyong cuddle at the back of your car, sharing body heat to survive this cold. Even though Taeyong is the spirit of winter, he can be warm whenever he’s in his human form. “You know that sharing body heat is effective when two parties are naked, right?” you tease him and make him blush. He smiled handsomely and let out an awkward laugh. “Tell me something about yourself,” you asked and try to turn this awkward moment around.

“I don’t know. There’s nothing much about me and nothing interested, how about you?” his voice was enough to make you melt while you hug him and enjoy his warmth. You like how he didn’t try to impress you but instead, he gave you an honest answer about himself.

“Well, since you’re honest, I’ll be honest too. I’m on my way to meet a guy, I have a date tonight but…” you breathe in and out before you continue and contemplate whether it’s right to say this to him or not.

“But?” he tightens his embrace to you as he waits for you to continue your sentence.

“But I’m glad I got stranded and met you”

You feel his heart beat so fast because your bodies are incredibly close, you watch him blush and smile so big making your body warm again. After a few more hours of talking, help finally came and brought you to a safe place where it’s warm. Taeyong did not foresee this, he felt like he’s losing you already and he didn’t know what to do. Clearly, he didn’t plan everything out smoothly before he chose to be human for you, he’s not sure when he’s going to meet you again. He remembers his suffering from your first life and he didn’t want to let you go now and meet Taeil before he could even have his chance.

“Listen” he calls you before you get inside the cab and go home, “I’m poor. I have nothing to offer, I don’t have a car and I purposely walked past your car to grab your attention. But, see me again. Give me a few months to earn some money so I can buy you a decent dinner. I promise I will never lie to you again”

His eyes tell you everything. Obviously, he’s sincere with his words and he spoke nothing but the truth because there were no other broken cars found other than yours. It was Taeyong’s honesty that moved you and made you say yes to the dinner date that he offered. Before you two go on separate ways, you gave him a piece of paper that has your number in it and you can only hope that he will not lose it so you can meet soon.

Taeyong was more than happy for accepting his honesty in exchange for your trust. He doesn’t have any clue to what he’s doing but he’s sure about one thing, if he’s going to make you fall in love with him he wanted to do it right and will all honesty. That’s what you deserve. It might take him a while to find a job, and earn some money but everything will be worth it in time. With that motivation, Taeyong looked for a job that he likes, earn enough money to buy a small place for him to stay, and save up for the date that he promised you.

After a few months, you received a call from an anonymous number and did not hesitate to answer because it could be Taeyong. When you finally heard his voice again, you smiled so big because not only that this man is honest but he knew how to keep his promise.

“I’m still not rich but I have enough money to make us dinner. Uhm… If you still want to have dinner with me, I’ll text you the address and we can have dinner tonight” he bit his lower lip, hoping that his offer is enough to allow him to see you again.

“I don’t need a rich man Taeyong. Send me the address then, I’ll see you tonight” The fact that he will make dinner for the two of you is enough reason for you to say yes.

When the time for the most awaited dinner date has arrived, you two had a great time in his small apartment with a dinner table full of good and delicious food that he made. The date went well, he talked all night telling you how he’s holding up with his new life, he told you he loved working on the daycare that accepted him because he loves taking care of the children and every story that comes out from his mouth is too good to be true but you believe every word he says because you know that he’s honest. Taeyong felt happy seeing you smile because of him and not another man. The waiting he did for you is worth it even though being an independent human is not easy, as always, he’s ready to endure everything for you.

“How about you? What’s your work?” he asks after he overshared his experience from the daycare.

“I work for my parents. At their company” you looked sad the moment you mentioned it and he wondered why. “Let’s just say that, because I’m their daughter they expect too much from me. But I end up disappointing them- I was having a bad day Taeyong, but you called and now everything is fine” you gave him a small smile and continue eating. Knowing that he can make you happy even with the smallest things makes him really happy. It looks like he started on the right foot and hope that this can continue.

“Will I see you again?” he asks before you get a cab.

“Let’s see each other every day, do you like that?” you bit your lower lip and hope that your flirting will work. It was a bold move but Taeyong is a kind man that made your beat. Little did you know that what you just said made Taeyong really happy that he could cry in front of you but he would rather not. He kissed you on your forehead to answer your question, smiled so sweetly at you, and told you, “Text me the address of your work, I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Get home safe, okay?”

After a few dinner dates, and countless phone calls, and texting, you and Taeyong made everything official between the two of you and sealed it with a kiss under the first snow in the middle of an empty street. But that’s only the start of your relationship. As you continue to see each other day by day or every other day, Taeyong is becoming like the nice warm feeling when the morning sun hits your skin the moment you step out of the house. This happens all the time when he picks you up at work and meets you outside the building and there he is, standing and waiting for you. Not a single word from him but he already, turned your day around.

“Had a rough day?” he asks, swinging his arms around you keeping you close as you two walk with the sea of people.

“Yeah. I did a lot today” you let out a sigh to further express your exhaustion.

“Don’t worry. I’m here now” one smile from him and everything is okay.

Taeyong is not perfect. But you don’t need someone perfect, you need someone who tries. You don’t know where he came from and he may seem ignorant sometimes but he’s not afraid to ask you about something like that one time he wanted to go to the movies with you but he doesn’t know how so he asked you and ruined the surprise. And whenever you ask him about his family background he simply says the truth.

“I don’t have any or maybe I don’t remember much but I do have friends, you can meet them someday. I’m sorry I lack about a lot of things,” you saw the worry in his eyes and disappointment in himself.

“No baby, it’s fine. I just asked. No need to worry about it” from there on you never asked anything about him so he won’t overthink, what you see is what you get and you let yourself accept what he can only give to you.

It’s been almost half a year since you and Taeyong started dating. He may be very different from the guys you dated before him, but it’s okay because that makes him more special. Almost a year together and you and Taeyong haven’t moved your relationship to the next level and by the next level you meant he hasn’t touched you yet, haven’t shared a lustful kiss, and haven’t had sex. It’s like high school all over again.

“Did you know that you’re my first kiss?” he whispered beside your ear. It’s a weekend so you’re staying over in his cozy apartment, enjoying his cold body against you as you sit comfortably in between his legs on his very small couch.

“I’m your first love, Tae that’s given already” you giggle and intertwine your fingers with his. “If I’m your first kiss then you must be a virgin,” you added.

“I am” he giggles and tightens his embrace, “any plans about that?”

“Woah there. Is that an invitation?” you turned your head to meet his eyes and he gave you a wink. Your heart jumped out of excitement when you saw him getting shy, smiling oh so handsomely. So it’s a yes then.

“My knowledge about sex is very limited don’t get too excited,” he says while watching you sit on his lap, legs on both sides. This is new, Taeyong thought. “you’re going to tease me from now on, I get it. But you do look sexy now on top of me” he giggles and pulls you closer for a heated kiss. He never kissed you like this, his hands on your waist gripping it tightly and his tongue… oh his tongue. You never thought he’s capable of such skill.

“Okay let’s not rush and not jump right into having sex,” you said in between kissing. You don’t stop, he doesn’t stop either but he’s listening. “Put your hands inside my shirt” you instruct him and he shyly followed you. You felt his cold hands against your skin, slowly going up to knead your clothed boobs, you feel him harden beneath you and for the first time, you see your boyfriend became horny. You unclasp your bra while you continue kissing each other with want, tongue sucking, lip biting while you enjoy the way he touches you for the first time.

He stopped for a second when you removed your bra in front of him, letting your hard nipples ghost on your thin shirt. He remembered how he used to look away whenever you and Taeil get too intimate, but now you’re his. Slowly he played with the hem of your shirt and lift it over your head to see his girlfriend’s body for the first time. He smiled and kissed you again, touching your boobs gently, brushing his thumb on your nipples, and making you moan softly.

After that night, Taeyong became confident when it comes to touching you and kissing you with full of lust that sometimes it’s all too much because he’s doing a great job. His kisses alone can make you moan and weak, while the way he fingers you slowly can make you moan his name that his landlord sometimes shush you two. The first time you introduced him to oral sex, was a wild moment for the two of you because he loved it so much and he did a pretty good job for a first timer.

When the time finally comes and you’re both ready to have sex, he didn’t even know how to put on a condom, so you taught him how and you think he’s cute. He told you he wanted to make you happy even in bed, so you let him. “I’ll do my best,” he says, kissing your neck and making you smile before he proceeds to foreplay. His lips travel down from your lips, all the way down to your neck and the valley between your boobs, giving your nipples a soft pinch before he proceeds and licks you for a few seconds. He kisses your lower abdomen, caressing your thighs as he blows cold air on your wet folds, and proceeds to lick your cunt. You feel his cold tongue glide oh so smoothly like there's a piece of ice rubbing on your cunt right now, but it’s Taeyong’s tongue. “Enough teasing Tae. We’ve had enough of that” you moan and pulled him up to face you. It’s true though, you and Taeyong have been giving each other oral for the past few weeks because he’s not yet ready to have sex with you.

“Okay okay. I understand” he says and attacked lips with hungry kisses and starts grinding on top of your body while you surround his small room with sounds of wet kisses. Kissing Taeyong always feels because his lips are always cold and it feels good against your skin. As you admire his lips and the way he kisses you, you feel the tip of his cock on your entrance and feel him push in slowly catching every sharp gasp you let out with his mouth. You cup his face with both of your hands and close your eyes as you enjoy being fucked by the man you love. “You said you don’t know what you’re doing- Taeyong you feel good!” you were basically moaning the whole time you were telling him what you feel. He asks you to spread your legs even more so he can thrust deeper and so you followed gladly, and after a few thrusts, he hits your good spot perfectly.

“And I told you I’ll do my best right?” he smirks and continues to fuck you good, keeping your legs apart and sucking your boobs as he thrusts. He feels your walls warm walls around his cock then you asked him to put his thumb on your clit and the moment his cold fingers made contact on your clit, you tried to push him away because it made you sensitive and moan his name louder than before. You breathed heavily and accept every deep thrust Taeyong give you, every cold kiss, every sweet word that makes your heart swell. It was all overwhelming and all you can do is let go and cum.

Soon he released his cum in the condom and removed it immediately before he lay beside you in his small bed. You feel him kiss your forehead while he covers your sweaty and shivering bodies with his blanket and helped you come down from your high.

The next day, the sunlight from Taeyong’s window wakes him up and quickly blocked the sun with his hand so it won't hit your eyes too. You were sleeping soundly beside him, embracing his tiny waist unconsciously. “Good morning “ he whispered to you, covering your naked body with his blanket. “You have work” he reminded you sweetly and pulled you in a tight embrace.

“Let’s stay in bed, Taeyongie. Let’s skip work and make love the whole day” you kissed him good morning and closed your eyes again. You hear him giggle and feel his strong arms cage you and cradle you.

“As much as I want to do that, we can’t. Come on, I’ll cook breakfast, let’s start our day together”

“Are you getting rid of me?”

“No, quite opposite actually. Let’s start this day early, so we could go to work and meet afterward. I’m excited to see you again” You smile a gave him a tight embrace, allowing yourself to be thankful just for a minute for this beautiful morning, and for the naked man beneath you who loves you so much.

Beautiful nights that involved making love with Taeyong or having rough sex, eventually, happened again and again and again until he’s confident in bed just as much as you are. You go to work sore and tired but your heart is happy all because of Taeyong. He may not be as innocent as before but the humble and loving Taeyong that you fell in love with is still here. It was a relationship that involved a lot of sexual activities but you and Taeyong loved each other dearly and prove it to each other every day.

“I hate going home” you whined and gave him a glass of water. Tonight is one of those nights where you and Taeyong enjoy the meal he cooks after a long day at work and you have dinner together in his small apartment.

“Then don’t, stay here with me it’s late,” he says as he drinks the water that you gave.

“Hmm. That’s not what I meant, ask me to live with you already”

“I cant my place is too small, I’ll marry you and I’ll buy us a nice home”

“Were not getting young” you teased him, “I’m perfectly fine with this place. You know I love it here, I sleep well whenever I stay over”

“That’s because of me not because of this place” he was talking about the sex and smirked.

“Okay fine- But seriously you don’t have to buy me a big house you’re enough” he pulled you closer to him and looked at your eyes. He remembers the big house that you and Taeil owned in your past life and he was planning to give you something like that and not this shoebox. But he sees that you’re happy so he finally lets you win.

“Okay. If this place makes you happy, fine. Welcome home” he kissed your knuckles softly but you attacked him with sweet kisses and ended up making out with your boyfriend on his cold floor with a happy heart.

Living with Taeyong was a huge transition in your life but it was all for the better. You used to eat fast food every night but now you have Taeyong to cook you good food every day. Living together also made you know him more and know some things for yourself, like his love for sweet potatoes and that he can sing. He is incredibly affectionate when it comes to animals, may it be a stray cat or a dog it doesn’t matter he will take care of it. Living with Taeyong made your life easier and beautiful even though it’s all about the simplest things with him.

After you moved in with Taeyong, he found a job as a grade school art teacher which he loved doing so much and also pays good money. With that money, he saved a lot and bought you a house that’s big enough for the two of you. You let him shower you with love because that’s what he wants, in return you love him unconditionally. Soon, you introduced him to your family during the holidays, and Taeyong cooked for everyone which made him win their hearts especially your mom.

Seasons changed and so are the years, now you’re swaying under the soft music from the background on your sister’s wedding. Your arms are wrapped around his neck while his arms are wrapped around your waist as he whispers how beautiful you are tonight for the nth time but you never get tired of it. It’s not your wedding but you feel like it is because Taeyong can easily turn a second into a special moment.

Your sister’s wedding is a series of mixed emotions, one minute you’re crying because she’s not a baby anymore and by the next few hours you’re happy because she dropped the news that she’s pregnant already. “I saw your eyes when your sister told everyone she’s pregnant, how many kids do you want in the future?” he asks, continuously swaying your bodies while he waits for your answer.

“Ask me to marry you first” you boop his sharp nose and rest your head on his chest, “but let's have two kids,” you sighed and smiled at your wish and you hear your boyfriend hum in approval.

The night ended beautifully and you’re happy to see that your sister is happily married now. You kissed and waved goodbye to your family and Taeyong did the same too. Oh, how you wish you and Taeyong will have a happy ending soon too.

But you know what they say, be careful what you wish for.

A week after your sister’s wedding Taeyong proposed to you and made you the happiest girl in the world. It was nothing glamorous like the ones you see in movies, no big crowds, and no big signs that says ‘Marry Me?’. No. It was just the two of you. In your car, where you two first met. It was snowing too which made it even more special and romantic. When he was putting the ring on your finger, he was shaking so bad like he was cold but he’s not he’s just nervous. It was a simple ring and it represents your relationship with him, the diamond was small but the ring itself is a promise of never ending happiness because you get to spend the rest of your life with this handsome man.

Suddenly life is full of dreams and promises to keep for your marriage, no morning or night has passed that you didn’t admire your engagement ring. Just like now while Taeyong is in the shower and you’re waiting for him to come to bed. “You smell good” you didn’t notice him slide under the covers and felt him sniff your exposed shoulders. You turned your head to him and see him shirtless while he leans on the bed frame. You rolled on your side and rest your head on his abs, while you admire his handsome features.

“I want kids with your nose, my eyes, and your good heart,” you said, looking directly in his eyes. “You can teach them how to draw or cook pancakes, we can read stories to them, sing a song, and dance around our living room?”

He felt his body warm in instant. With just your words he felt like he’s melting. “Your love melts me you know,” he reaches for your lips and kissed you good night. “We can do all that and more, I promise” he whispers.

Time passed by so fast after getting married to Taeyong. Life is even sweeter and worth living for. Even though married life is never easy, you and Taeyong managed to be happy every day. More seasons change and you and Taeyong have become busier with work that you only spend time with each other during mornings and before you go to bed. But of course, the baby making is a never ending try until that damn pregnancy test will come out positive. Trying to have a baby was harder than you thought. There are times that you’re losing hope but your husband makes everything better.

“Good morning Mrs. Lee”

After being married for two beautiful years now, some things have never changed like how Taeyong wakes you up early in the morning for work with his cold lips and handsome face. You stretch your body looked at your handsome husband, who’s shirtless and only wearing a pajama underneath this thick blanket. You couldn’t stop yourself to kiss him and position him on top of you. “I have kids to teach” he giggled but he kisses your chest just the way you like it.

“Want to try to make our own kid? We haven’t tried ever since the last result. This isn’t us” you teased him but you both know it’s because of your jobs and you understand each other.

“You know I can’t say no to that” he smirked and lifts your sleepwear, exposing your boobs to your husband. Sucking your nipples immediately and felt his cold tongue swirl around it while his hands were quick to remove your pajamas and underwear. He kneels in between your legs and lowered his sweatpants before he releases his hard cock from his boxer briefs. With his middle finger, he checked if your slit is wet and ready, “you’re always wet for me” he says and kissed you deeply as he thrusts inside you with one quick move that dragged your body on the mattress. It hurt a little because you weren’t prepped enough, but once Taeyong rolls his hips and starts kissing your neck you lose your mind and all you can do is focus on the pleasure that he’s giving.

His thrusts were quick, you figured he was horny and his grip on your waist will sure leave marks. “Ah-fuck” you moan out when his thumb started drawing circles on your clit to make sure you will cum because there’s no way you will leave your house without cumming this morning. “I’m cumming-“ he says and sucks your nipples while he thrust harshly and putting pressure on your clit.

Your husband gave you a piercing thrust as he shoots his cum inside you, making you yelp and almost hit the headboard but you don’t care because you’re in the middle of your own orgasm.

“Wow- our baby making is getting intense,” you said with heavy breaths and sharp gaps. You put your shoulder above your forehead and catch your breath for a minute before you go on and take a shower.

You don’t know but your husband wanted to tell you something but he doesn’t want to ruin the morning. He helps you wear your panties again and kiss your sensitive body while listening to your giggles that’s music to his ear. He loves you so much that he wanted so bad to give you a baby soon because he’s tired of seeing you disappointed whenever the pregnancy test is negative.

Every day you and Taeyong spend your mornings peaceful and quiet. You wrap your arms around him while he prepares you breakfast, enjoy the quietness of your house and the peaceful life that he has given to you. “Have I told you that I love you Tae? So much?” you smelled his still wet hair and tighten your embrace.

“Yes. Every day, I think I don’t say it as much as you do but, I love you too” He kissed your forehead and gave your lips a peck. And mornings like this happens every day and no one is complaining because you never get sick of it.

“What if we adopt instead of trying to make one?”

It’s not that he didn’t like the idea of adopting, but it hurt him because you must really want a baby by this time and he can’t give you one for unexplainable reasons. “Don’t you want to see your nose in our little one? Or my eyes?” he stopped doing what he’s doing for a second and turned around to meet your gaze. He swings his arms around your waist, leaned on the kitchen counter, and pressed you against his body. “Where did that idea come from- I’m not against it but-,”

“But you don’t want to do it either?”

“I wish I could answer all of our questions on why you can’t get pregnant. Let’s try a few more times, then if nothing happens let’s do it. I’m sorry-“

“No, you’re not doing anything wrong. I think I’m just stressed with work,” you were just about to kiss your husband and end the conversation when the doorbell rang and you both wonder who might that be. Neither of you is expecting any visitor this early, that’s why it is a complete shock for Taeyong that Jaehyun visited him.

This must be important.

Since Taeyong needed to talk to his friend, you had to drive alone to work and drown with the things that you told your husband. I shouldn’t have said that, I completely hurt his feelings. Stupid. You said those things to yourself as you drive and arrive at your office safely. Then…

“Oh gosh. I’m sorry” a stranger bumped you so hard while you were walking towards your office. Completely bringing you back from reality. He was quick to apologize and his beautiful smile was hard to not notice. “I’m very sorry Miss. I’m Moon Taeil. I was reading some guidelines, I’m very new here and I can’t seem to find Mrs. Y/n Lee” he read it from the paper he was holding.

“You found me” you smiled and invited him to your office to talk about the work he has to finish.

While you were busy orienting Moon Taeil in your office Taeyong and Jaehyun had a serious conversation in your living room which made Taeyong very angry and frustrated. Turns ourtJaehyun is here to tell him that you and your soulmate will finally cross paths.

“That’s the thing when it comes to this soulmate thing hyung, we can’t stop it. Even me. It’s beyond what I’m capable of. I’m sorry, you just have to work harder and keep her away from him. Try and stop destiny” Jaehyun says, frustrated like his hyung too. Taeyong was quiet but he was thankful to Jaehyun for telling him.

“I’m starting to melt” Taeyong admitted to his friend. "I think I could last two more years"

“Make up your mind. Would you rather be selfish or let her be happy for the rest of her life?” Taeyong watched his friend leave after dropping a very hard question to answer. He can indeed feel his heart is slowly melting and the only way to save himself is to go back to being a spirit again.

It was a very disturbing day for both of you. He was worried about you and Taeil meeting, you were worried about the things you said to him this morning. To make it up with your husband, you decided to surprise him and pick him up from the school he's teaching. You see parents hugging their children and hear them asking about their day and you can’t help but tear up a little because you want the same things too.

You wipe your tears when you see your handsome husband walking towards you and greet you with a kiss. “Adults go here to fetch their kids, but here you are fetching me” you both let out a giggle before going inside your car. Before you start apologizing, you gulped the lump on your throat and keep your eyes on the road.

“I’m sorry about this morning. I know I hurt you” you finally said.

“Hurt me a thousand more times, I’m still going to love you deeply. Everything is fine, I understand you’re desperate because I’m desperate too. But we both have different solutions to this problem that's why. Let’s talk about it at home,” he says, reaching your free hand and kissed your wedding ring. You love how he’s always right when it comes to things like this. He always knew what to do.

As usual, you and Taeyong fixed this baby situation and decided to try and try until you get pregnant. You have nothing against it but you don’t know how long you can hold on anymore. Nonetheless, you try and understand Taeyong’s feelings too and you don’t want to hurt him again. After having that conversation with your husband, he tried so hard to get you pregnant and initiate having sex almost every day. Exhausting but at the same time fun, you just let love and lust drive you and your husband to bed over and over again.

Like right now, you were so weak and you can’t feel your legs anymore, you don’t even have the energy to roll on your side and reach for your husband but he does it for you. “You okay?” he kisses your neck and caress your sensitive body softly, naked and still sweaty from sex.

“Can we go back to the time where you don’t know anything about sex?” it was a joke which both of you find funny. You return his embrace and let out a shiver when you felt his skin so cold like ice and he was sweating so hard… like he was melting, “are you sick? baby you’re so cold like ice” you were worried but your husband is smiling weakly at you with lustful eyes, clearly, he wanted another round. But little did you know Taeyong is not feeling well.

“Come here so you could keep me warm then,” he kissed you deeply on the lips and felt him spreading your legs again. Oh boy, you thought. You tried to push him but you’re too late, he made you horny too, and just like that you gave in already.

You and Taeyong continue to try to have a baby and have sex whenever you can. Until one day when you were busy cleaning the house, and you saw your pads on the drawers and realized that you’re late. Your period is finally late.

“I’m home. Y/n?” Taeyong shouts as he enters your house, putting his shoes on the side. You greet him with a warm hug and a smile so big, inviting him to bed this instance. What better way to celebrate your pregnancy right?

You kiss him until you reach your shared bed and remove your clothes in front of him, intertwining your fingers with his and guiding him to touch your body. He doesn’t know what’s happening but he was enjoying it even though he doesn’t feel good. Taeyong quickly switched positions and removed his clothes from work before he goes in between your legs and kisses your body.

First, he licked your pussy good. Making your head turn and make you moan his name a little louder. You hear wet sounds as Taeyong licks you up and down and kiss your pussy like it’s your mouth. You were so wet that it turns you on even more and can’t wait for Taeyong to finally fuck you. When he felt your excitement, he quickly pumped his cock and slide it on your very wet folds just to watch you lose your mind beneath him.

He came in slowly, fucking you deep and careful because he was too weak right now but he can’t show you. After a few moments of heavy breathes and taking Taeyong's deep thrust, Taeyong fed his lust and looked how your cunt take all of him slowly and got excited to see blood coating his cock because loves period sex so much.

“I love fucking you when you’re on your period-ah” he was moaning so good and fucking you at a quick pace now, nipping your earlobes and kneading your boobs. After a few dirty talks, he heard you sob and felt tears falling on your cheeks. He thought you were crying because of overstimulation so he smirked and gave your ass a light slap. When he pulls away from your neck to kiss you on the lips, he sees you crying while covering your mouth with your own hand.

Your husband stopped.

“Am I hurting you, what’s wrong?” you didn’t answer him.

He quickly pulled out and went to the bathroom to get a damped towel to clean the blood on your thighs and put a tampon inside you while you were crying. He kissed your shoulders and begged you to talk to him because he is clueless.

“I was excited because I thought my period is late just a few minutes before you get home. Then it fucking came” it was a very harsh move for fate to give you false hope and hurt your feelings like that. Taeyong didn’t know what to do when you asked him to leave you alone for tonight.

He needed you too because he’s sick right now but he can’t tell you.

And that is where your marriage failed.

Taeyong was desperate to keep you while you were desperate to have a child. You two started to fight, and you can see that things are slowly changing now. You were cold towards him because you don’t know what else to do to have a kid. You have sex, take a test, negative, have sex again, take the test again, and have the same results over and over again.

You hope that it’s easier than ‘you don’t love him anymore’ but it’s not, you love each other so much but this baby problem is ruining your marriage and you can’t fix it because you don’t know what’s wrong, even the doctors said you’re both fine and you just have to try and try but its getting tiring already.

“I don’t know what else to do” Taeyong admits after you take another test just a few minutes ago and he sees you crying. He can’t take it. He never saw you cry when you were married to Taeil.

“Do you want to give up? Because I’m getting tired, baby” you hug him so tight and cried on his shoulders, “we fight, we don’t sleep peacefully now, and we're not happy. This is not us” you cry out and tighten your embrace to your husband. You forgot how his presence comforts a lot.

“Okay, let's stop. I’m sorry. I really am”

“I’m sorry too”

Taeyong realized what he was doing all this time. If he didn’t steal you from Taeil you wouldn’t suffer like this because he is not the right man for you. Love is cruel, Taeyong thought. No matter how much you love each other, no matter how much he loves you, fate won’t consider it and will find a way to ruin your chance of being happy.

He puts you to sleep and went out to meet his friends and tell them that he’s slowly dying. You were so focused on yourself and didn’t notice that Taeyong is getting thin and his hair is slowly turning white. You thought it’s just him being stressed with everything that’s happening right now but it’s more than that.

“Well, you can’t die. It’s simple as that. You’re more than Taeyong, you have an obligation in this world as the spirit of winter” Doyoung was beyond pissed upon hearing the news. "We told you from the very start that this is not a good idea" he added.

“We have no choice but to let her and Taeil have their happy ending. But how she loves you so much” Jaehyun says with worried eyes because they know that Taeyong is going through so much.

“I’ll Divorce her, with all the strength I have left ” Taeyong says weakly, tears in his eyes started to ball.

“All for the better hyung, you can save your life and she can be happy” Doyoung pat his back and told him to do it immediately because he doesn’t have much time.

After a week, Jaehyun helped Taeyong with the process of divorce and will make everything official once you sign the papers.

And just as you thought that life couldn’t get any more brutal, your husband is handing you the divorce papers before you start your car and drive you both home. You never thought that this damn car will witness everything. How you and Taeyong met for the first time, the night he asked you to marry him, and now that he’s completely giving up on your marriage. Taeyong watched you cry while you’re driving quietly and wonder what’s on your mind. Do you hate me? He remained silent the whole time until you reach home.

You look at the envelope in front of you while Taeyong is on the other side of the kitchen with you, waiting for your thoughts. “If this is about me wanting to have a baby- Taeyong I don’t want it anymore just please” you were begging him in the middle of your kitchen, tears started falling and you can’t believe that this is happening. He came closer to you, cupped your cheeks, and kissed your forehead because he can’t see you like this, “We’ve been through so much Tae, you can’t do this to me”

“But I can’t make you happy anymore, someone will fill in my shoes” he kept you close and savor the feeling of your hug that will last for a lifetime.

“To hell with happiness- I’m sorry I was selfish, I was only thinking of myself” you cry some more and stain his dress shirt with your tears.

“I was the one who became selfish in the first place, not you,” you don’t know what he was saying but you don’t care anymore, all you want to do is never let him go.

But he was the one who let you go and you couldn’t get a hold of him no matter how much you beg. It was more than heartbreaking. When Taeyong left you, the house he bought you was never home without him, he didn’t even take anything with him, not even his clothes. The only thing he got for himself is his wedding ring which he will wear forever.

“Welcome back,” Doyoung says but neither of them is happy about the divorce. Taeyong felt strong and healthy now that he’s a spirit again but his heart is dead, he doesn’t feel alive anymore. It’s been weeks since he left you, and since it’s not winter, he’s not allowed to be around. Perfect, he thought. He needed the time to move on and heal alone.

Who knows? Maybe he'll try again in your next life.

To whoever read this, i hope you live a happy life a simple life and you’re happy genuinely.

#nct smut #nct-writers #neowritingsnet #cznnet #kpopscape #neosmutcollective #taeyong smut #lee taeyong smut #nct taeyong smut #nct x reader #taeyong x reader #taeyong fluff #taeyong angst #nct au #nct fantasy au

384 notes · View notes

ffangirlingsince2001 · 4 years

Text

Nothing Alike: V

Description: Geralt of Rivia has been tasked with taking out a fellow Witcher who has decided to settle down in a town. She has no intention of leaving and Geralt is forced to take matters into his own hands.

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: almost fluff but the reader hates it, language, angst (This chapter might make you uncomfortable and a little called out if you have intimacy issues, it definitely called me out, so beware)

MASTERLIST

He had gotten himself into trouble. That’s what he had gotten himself into when he ignored instinct and allowed a mind lower than his head make decisions.

She was beautiful of course, dangerous but beautiful, nonetheless. Not that he had ever doubted either, if he had, he might not have been stupid enough to take her with him.

They couldn’t stay in towns for long, she would anger the town people. She held raging parties in her own honor, keeping their cups filled until she could slip gold from their pockets without batting an eye. It wasn’t until the next morning when they tried to pay for the drinks, she failed to provide, that they realized they were poorer than the day they were born.

He tried to make her give it back. He ordered, and threatened, and seduced, and turned her upside down to shake out the coins, but they were never there. She always seemed poorer than the men she robbed.

That didn’t stop them from being angry.

And that didn’t stop her from being a right pain in his arse, always starting fights and taunting the innocent when he simply wanted peace. When they spent time in town it no longer than fifteen minutes for a man to be drawing his sword and Y/N to return the favor. And then they were being kicked out by the sore loser who had dared to challenge her. Finally, he gave up comforter for peace and they remained in the forest, beneath the trees and the stars.

That’s how they sat now, beneath the galaxy as it spun around them. A warm fire crackled between them as some poor animal she had caught cooked over its scorch. She was lying on her back, staring up at the diamond filled sky, or at least he assumed that’s what she was staring at. The lace of her shirt was undone, the soft linen draped over and leaving no room for the imagination. Not that he needed imagination to know what was beneath her clothing. He had witnessed the harshness firsthand.

She was a bitter dessert he could hardly bare to devour, and yet he wanted to taste her over and over again.

Despite such desire, he hadn’t touched her since that morning months ago. He wanted to, god he wanted to, but she wasn’t keen on letting him. Every time the though conjured in his mind she would slither away from him, a devilish twinkle in her eye. She never admitted to her little game, and he never asked her about it; but it seemed that not everything was for the taking as she had once promised.

“Is the food almost ready?” she asked suddenly, the harshness of her voice against the silence startling him. Geralt shrugged, stabbing at the meat with a stick. The fat sizzled as it fell into the fire, filling the air around them with the smell of tender meat and a dinner that would soon fill their bellies. He pulled it off the fire, carving out a hunk of flesh and passing it to her, before filling his own mouth.

She ate like a man, the juices running down her chin and catching on the slopes of her chest, staining the linen of her shirt. She chewed with her mouth open, and he could hear every noise of tongue, the gnash of her teeth, the smack of her lips with each bite. It was positively revolting, and he was sure she did every bit of it for him. To disgust him, to keep him far away from what he knew was sweet lips and words that could make even the harshest man melt.

“It’s delicious,” she moaned with delight, taunting him from across the fire. Her golden eyes were molten as they stared at him like a cat caught stealing from the bins. “You’re so boring,” she groaned, flopping back into the dirt, wiping away the last of her meal onto her sleeve.

“And what should I do about that?”

“Go into town, make a riot somewhere.”

“Is that all that excites you, chaos where peace should reside?”

“No. Sex excites me too.”

“And yet you choose chaos.”

“Much easier to come by these days when you won’t allow me in a town long enough to find some fool who finds me meek and malleable.”

“Is that who you want to be? Meek and malleable?”

“No, but it’s dreadfully fun to surprise them when they’re sure they’ve finally cornered me.” Geralt laughed beneath his breath. A man would have to be a fool to ever think they had cornered her. The pair settled into silence once more before a question that had been floating around his mind for days finally escaped his lips.

“Have you ever killed any monsters?”

“It depends. What is your definition of a monster? To you I am a monster, so you must explain what you mean.”

“You are not a monster?”

“Is that so?” she snarled as she sat up again, crawling forward, the fire raging in her eyes. “Is that why you look at me with such disgust? Is that why you keep me out of every town we near? Is that why you hold my leash so short I am sure I will choke on my own indignation?”

“It is a leash of your own making,” he replied, voice low as he struggled against his instinct to fight. She was so close now, resting on her knees, the rivulets of grease that ran down her chest glistening in the orange light.

“God, the sacrifices I make,” she spat, rising to her feet before marching away from him, but he would not let her claim victim, not tonight.

“What sacrifices have you made? I would be willing to bet all I have earned this year that you have never made a sacrifice in your entire life. You are selfish and coarse and without feeling. They ruined you in that school. You claim to have survived their tests, but you died the moment your mother abandoned you.” She roared, drawing her sword as she faced him, fury twisting the softness of her features.

“You will not speak to me like that,” she screamed, her sword shaking in front of her.

“Do you not like the truth, Y/N? Does it upset you? Does it remind you of what you have failed to become?” he roared back, blocking the strike of her sword with ease. She was good, there was not debate about her skill, but she was nothing more than a wildfire of emotion. There was no control, no patience, just fury that could be easily parried.

“I will kill you.”

“You have tried before, and you will fail just as you did then.” She screamed again charging forward, but he slammed the flat edge of his sword against the fingers closed around the handle of her sword. She screeched in pain, dropping her sword to the ground, backing away as she flexed her fingers. Without flinching she lunged forward, abandoning her sword for her bare hands.

He caught her with just as much ease as he had disarmed her.

“Let me go, let me go,” she repeated, struggling against his arms. One of his arms slid to her throat, ending the scream in moments. Her hands found his arm, fingers tense against muscle as she struggled to remove him.

“Are you listening to me?” he asked, and she nodded angrily. “You said it yourself, no one tells you what to do. You are here on your own accord, so do not preach to me about sacrifices you have not had to make. You survived on my mercy alone, and if I truly desired it, I could snap you in half before feeding you the real monsters that wander these woods.”

“Then do it,” she choked out, self-loathing threaded through every syllable, but instead he dropped her to the ground. She didn’t move as she lay among the leaves that had begun to fall as summer ended its stay. She could have been dead; save the angry noises she was trying to contain. “You fucking coward.”

He kicked her in the side, sending her across the campsite. He hadn’t wanted to, he never would have before, but she made him so angry it was all he could do not to kill her. She was gasping for air as she glanced at him, laughing through hungry breaths.

“We’re so alike, and you hate it. You can’t stand to look at me because I am everything you wish you were. Free and arrogant and terrifying, all that you are and wish the world would know.” Now it was his turn to scream.

“We are nothing alike.” She only laughed at him, holding her side as she struggled to stand. She stumbled forward and like the fool he is, he caught her. His hands instinctively avoided the ribs he had broken moments before, tightening against her waist to steady her. “Like I said, nothing alike,” he murmured.

“You don’t think I would catch you?” she coughed.

“I know you wouldn’t.” She smiled at him with a sad laugh and looked up at him with wide, expectant eyes.

This was the first time he had touched her in so long, he wasn’t sure he could let go. Almost delicately, he lowered both of them to their knees, brushing a strand of hair from her face. In moments like this, he could imagine what she looked like before the world hardened her features. He could picture garlands of flowers strewn through her hair and the blush of a virgin on her cheeks. He could imagine a girl who would lead the boys who longed to woo her around like puppy dogs, dashing away every time they got to close. Somehow, he knew, even back then she was a coy little thing. She even dared to mock him now, batting her eyelashes towards the soil beneath them like a doe seducing its way out of the hunt.

He caught the nape of her neck as tenderly as he could bare, tilting her head up until their eyes met once more. She was beautifully exposed to him, the slow heartbeat thrumming against her throat in unspoken anticipation. He pressed his lips to the frantic pulse, teeth breaking through tenderness until she gasped in pain. When he pulled away a drop of blood joined the trail of grease.

A bruise in the shape of his bite was already forming.

“What do you want from me?” she asked breathlessly, squirming as he rubbed his finger against the wound.

“I want to hurt you,” he growled, so low he wasn’t sure she had heard it. He knew she had when she began to laugh despite the pain. He pressed harder and the laughter subsided to a whimper. She may be a Witcher, but pain still existed even if she wanted to pretend she didn’t feel it.

“Is that all?”

“I want you to cry, and I want to know that every tear is of my making.”

“Anything else?”

“I want to make you wish you were dead. I want you to beg for me to end your life. And I want to refuse.” A small emotion he could not detect flitted across her face before the smirk returned.

“Such requests, but I’m sure we can do our best.” With a quick hand, she pulled his knife from its sheath. He jumped away, prepared to defend himself but she only offered the handle to him, still smiling like only the devil herself could. He batted it out of her hands and grabbed her wrist, yanking her closer.

“You misinterpret me.”

“Oh?”

“You do not make the devil wish they were dead with violence; you show them heaven.” With a gentle but commanding force he wrapped her legs around his waist, and when he kissed her neck there was no ferocity only tenderness. He ran his tongue over the wound, tasting iron, sucking ever so softly until she was moaning into the crisp night air.

When she was sufficiently worked up, squirming for relief from Geralt and his tender lips he pulled away and kissed her softly, like no one ever had before. There was no malice, no lust, nothing that she was familiar with. It was like he was mocking her, teasing her with the possibilities that came before the mutation.

“Geralt,” she growled, slamming her knee into his side but he only persisted. His hands did not stray from her hips, they remained firm and respectful.

She didn’t want respectful, she wanted anger. She wanted him to kick her again, to pick up the knife she had offered him and use it the way he knew how. She wanted him to choke the life from her body like he had so many weeks ago. She had made him wait weeks for this, for the ability to touch her, taunting him until she was sure he could take no more. He should want to ravish her, to enter raw and without warning, but instead he was kissing her like a lover would.

“Geralt,” she managed to say again, slamming her fist into his back but he only hushed her tenderly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, one of his hands leaving her waist and settling on her hair, softly running his fingers through the curls. When they caught on snarls, she thought he would pull, hoped he would pull, but he only unknotted them with delicate ease.

She was terrified, shaking uncontrollably like she never had before. He had wanted her to fear him, and he had succeeded. The fire was hot, his touch was warm, even his lips were a taste of excruciating fire, but she was still so very cold. Every touch ran across her skin like a feather, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Butterflies were flittered around her rip cage, while her heart hammered with excitement. There was a time when this was all she wanted, when there was no greater desire, but not now, not ever again. There was nothing like this in the whole world, not her world anyway. Tears slipped down her cheeks, salty against her lips as she pushed against his chest.

“Geralt stop,” she managed to cry out through the dreams of yesterday, “Please, I’m begging you stop.”

Instantly, he did so. He released her and she scrambled away breathing heavily.

“All you had to do was ask,” he replied, watching her as she panted. Her fingers dug into the soft soil, a desperate attempt to ground herself after his attack. He didn’t seem phased by it at all, in fact he seemed proud of himself.

But why shouldn’t he?

He had wanted to make her cry, to hurt, to wish for death above all else, and he had succeeded. While there were no wounds on her skin, her heart seemed to have wilted, aching with every moment she looked at him. She could still feel the softness of his touch, ghosting over her like a dream. She wished she were numb, that nothing could penetrate her body and soul ever again. An emotional death she was all too greedy to obtain.

He was right, heaven did hurt.

“I hate you,” she finally managed and he laughed, leaning against a tree, hands providing a layer between his head and the rough bark.

“I’m sure you do.”

“I’m going to kill you in your sleep.”

“Try and I might have to hold you again.” She spat on the ground in between them, and now it was his turn to smirk. “You’re so pliable that way, I might have to do it more often.”

She said nothing, because nothing she had to say would do anything to tear him down after his success. She jumped off the ground and stalked to her own corner of the campsite. She slammed herself against the ground, still shivering from the encounter, and some foreign thought wished he would hold her, if only to keep her warm. She banished it in an instant, cutting any possibility of it down with malice. She wrapped her arms around her chest, turned away from the fire as she stared into impossibly dark forest.

“Get some sleep, we ride for the coast in the morning,” he said, and had she not been so exhausted she would have stayed awake just to spite him.

She wished she had, because the next morning it was not Geralt who kicked her awake, nor was it his voice that greeted her ears.

“Well, well, well, it seems to be our lucky day.”

Taglist: @stuckupstucky @aurora-sweet @holyhumorliteraturelight @dreams-of-sunlight-and-starfire @auds24

165 notes · View notes

himbeaux-on-ice · 4 years

Text

Can I just say that Habs “fans” who act like Carey Price’s contract is somehow patient zero of all this team’s problems drive me absolutely fucking insane? Seriously. Buckle up. This is about to be a rant.

Now. First things first. Is it ideal that the $10 million goalie is currently uh, not doing very good? Fucking NO! I am disappointed as shit with that and I don’t like seeing him struggle. I know he can be better. He has to be better. Obviously.

However. That being said.

Do I think it’s an incredibly stupid look to spend several tweets complaining about all the issues Habs defence have been having, and then also griping that they haven’t started Jake Allen enough for how he’s performing, only to then for some inexplicable reason state that the FIRST THING, the first thing that needs to be dealt with after the new coaching staff have had ONE GAME (and zero practices) to work on things, is somehow “well, the ten million dollar man in net is weighing them down, that contract has gotta go!”?

Yes! That’s stupid!!

I think that’s a very ice cold small-brain take, and not just because Price is my favourite of favourites for as long as I’ve been a hockey fan! I have reasons, dammit!! I put THOUGHT into this!!

Here, dear ppl of Habs twitter who will never read this, are some reasons why this narrative you’re concocting is dumb, and why management/coaching are unlikely to think of trying to ditch Price mid-season to fix the current problems:

1: Time. It has been one (1) game under Ducharme. He has been able to run zero (0) full practices on off days with the team. We just changed up a major piece on the Habs chess board — why don’t you give it a minute to see what fresh eyes and minds can do with this roster before you decide we are fucked? This season is fast-moving, sure, but there is time for us to ride out some little bumps here and still make a playoff spot in this Canadian division. Have patience. Do you remember what patience is? Dom is a new head coach, not a wish-granting fairy godmother. Chill. Do you remember chill?

(rest of this under a cut because I actually LIKE Habs Tumblr, and I want to be nice to you all by not making you scroll past all of it if you don’t want to)

2: Jake Allen exists. There are a couple of things I like for what this means for the Habs. Firstly, for basically the first time in his NHL career, we are not in a situation where if Carey Price is in a slump, we have to go “Ah, shit, so now our options are let his stats tank while he tries to get the groove back in net, OR throw whoever the poor backup is out there to get murdered while we plummet through the standings.... 😬” We don’t have that problem right now, because the backup is... actually good? Oh my god, the backup is actually good! Thank fuck! We’re not doomed. If I’m Ducharme, I put Allen in net for a few consecutive starts to put a solid backstop behind all my fun experiments I’m probably planning with the skating roster (to catch their slip-ups, while also giving Carey lots of time and rest with which to work hard on sorting out whatever his issue is along with the goalie coaches).

2b: Jake Allen exists and is competition. Hell, if I’m Ducharme, maybe I even play a little hardball and say “Look, Carey, I don’t want you to be an expensive benchwarmer, but if things don’t pick up soon I am going to start whoever is doing best and you will have to compete for that net.” Related to my last point, when was the last time Carey Price had to push himself to compete for net time against anything other than his own injuries, and wasn’t simply always the default starter? Has that EVER been a thing? Honestly as much as I love the idea of him being The Goalie for the Habs, I also kinda like this idea a lot because I think it could really push him to a higher standard of performance. Maybe that kind of high-pressure situation (given how much he thrives in the pressure-cooker of the playoffs) could be what he NEEDS in order to Be Carey Price again. Worst comes to worst, he doesn’t respond to that challenge, and I am very sad but the Habs have a good goalie in net anyway, because Hallelujah, Jake Allen exists! God, isn’t it nice to have Jake Allen? Bless him.

3: Money. Guys, this league is so broke right now. Seriously. Seriously. Nobody has any fucking money. The Habs probably have more money than most teams, and that does not help when it comes to offloading large contracts. Trades are a NIGHTMARE both because of the flat cap but also because travel is complicated (especially cross-border) but also nobody wants to trade within their division if possible because all your games are against them. Who in the name of fuck do you think is jumping at the idea of taking the $10 million per through 20-lots-and-lots-of-years-from-now contract of a goalie who is currently struggling, impressive past record aside? What kind of astral plane of fantasy hockey are you on to think there’s a trade out there for that within this season. Shut up. And no, don’t bring up the expansion draft, this post is a rebuttal SPECIFICALLY to the people who think that Price and his contract are the biggest problem that needs to be dealt with RIGHT NOW and first on the list of ways to immediately remedy the team’s struggles.

4: Spite. Specifically to piss you off, bud. You personally.

5: Knowing how to troubleshoot properly. Fellas, if my computer is running slowly and freezing up a lot, do I immediately decide the first step to fixing it is to crack open the chassis, remove the hard drive, and try to sell that hard drive to someone to see if I can enough money back to somehow get a better hard drive for less? No, dipshit. That’s not how troubleshooting a complex system works works. It’s the same with hockey teams. Ah, my star goalie is not performing great. This situation is deeply less than ideal. If you’re actually good at troubleshooting, the first thing you do is not “WELL. I GUESS WE’LL HAVE TO THROW THE WHOLE GOALIE OUT. HE’S TOAST.” The first thing you do, if you’re a smart coach, is you say “Okay, what are my defence doing in front of him? What are they doing to reduce the amount and quality of our opponents’ scoring chances? Oh. Oh, they’re taking a lot of penalties, and... oh, uh, some of this is very not great. Yikes.” And then you start your work by trying to make the defence actually work instead of running the same Pairs That Everyone Is Very Much Over And Tired Of, because your goalie is actually supposed to be your Last Line of Defence. And maybe during that time you give more starts to Goalie Who Is Absolutely Slaying It, so that when you start trying new D-pairs and they inevitably have some mistakes, it doesn’t immediately turn into an Oh God Holy Fuck moment every time, because that last line of defence backstopping them is solid. The reason you need to deal with defense first is because a) You know you have a reliable goalie (Allen) in your pocket right now if you need him. What you don’t have is a whole-ass proven and tested and practiced Backup D-Core you can swap into the roster in front of your goalies to make their lives easier. Fix your defense and it WILL improve your goalies, even marginally. Defrag the hard drive before you ask why it’s not working. and b) If you need to go looking for any new D-men to solve the issues, those are WAY easier and cheaper to find than top-tier goalies, and you always want to start any troubleshooting process with trying the simplest solutions first to hopefully save time and money. The better that D-core is, the less it fucks your team over if the goalie isn’t feeling themselves, because the D is going to stop more of those pucks before they ever even become the goalie’s problem. FIX. DEFENCE. FIRST. Then try to train your goalie back into top form. THEN explore your other options.

6: The vicious cycle. Guys. We literally do this once every year or second year. EVERY time Carey Price has a slump, this fanbase gets into a tizzy like the Bell Centre is burning down and he was the one with the matches. And what ALWAYS happens literally within the year, every single time? He gets his mojo back like he did last summer in the bubble and goes on a heater and everybody goes “JESUS PRICE!!!! 🙌” and is ready to name their firstborn kid after him. Until eventually that performance becomes unsustainable, and he becomes mortal again, and suddenly he’s The Real Problem With This Franchise once again. I know he’s the guy they chose to build the team around instead of a superstar forward, but oh my god folks. You’d think he was the only player on the team. Guys, I feel like fucking Sisyphus pushing a blue blanc et rouge boulder up Mont Royal once a year with this shit. This man’s entire career has been a constant seesaw narrative between “Carey Price is our saviour!” and “Carey Price should be exiled to Nome!!!!” from parts of this fanbase, I swear. Look, slumps suck, but for once we are actually lucky enough to be in a position where this team, for the first time in YEARS, does not solelylive or die by the inscrutable magical cycles of Carey Price’s goalie powers — because when he has to step back and work to get back into his groove, there is FINALLY a SECOND GUY who is GREAT. Honestly, given that the state of this team for so long has been “they will go as far as Carey Price can take them” and he has put in a pretty fucking decent job of it despite all of the team’s other struggles, I feel like it is owed it to the guy to be like “Okay, well, we have somebody else solid to fill the net right now, and a chance to really figure out our defence and special teams with this new coach. Why don’t you take a step back and work your ass off at trying to get back into the form I know you can still perform at, and we’ll go from there?”

Anyway. Some parts of this fanbase have been waiting for a fresh excuse to claim Price is overrated, washed-up, and to blame for all of this team’s flaws and ills ever since he signed that contract, if not since the start of his NHL career. Just unreal how nasty some of this fanbase is willing to be about a player who is ON. YOUR. TEAM.

Am I saying he is beyond critique of his play and can do no wrong and his contract is perfect? No! I want this team to have the best goaltending it can get, and I want them to kick ass and take names. The difference is, I still believe Carey Price is a part of that winning formula, and I also think Twitter is overflowing with idiots who just repeat what everybody else says. He’s still a better goalie than your ass would be if I stuck you out there to stop shots from Mark Schieffle, for crap’s sake.

“The first thing that has to go is Carey Price’s contract 🤪”. Shut the fuck up. You are actively making other people stupider by talking. Go eat sand. Good day.

#It’s Time For My Opinion #I put so much time into this I hope it’s coherent lol #habs #Carey price #montreal canadiens #long post

25 notes · View notes

thestarwrites · 4 years

Text

All Right, All Might: Ch.8

Word Count: 3,242

Rating: PG

Painting: Toshinori Yagi X FemOC

The UA Guidance Counselor, a quirk user with Pathokenesis, is shocked to find out her personal hero All Might is coming to be a teacher. The road they walk as a parallel starts to merge and there’s no telling what could happen. The attack on the USJ has sparked a lot of things from happening -- including a new level of relationship for Toshinori.

---

CHAPTER EIGHT: The Morning After

A soft hum leaves Patho’s lips as she feels the sunlight through the blinds on her cheeks, and the long lean arms around her waist — wait — her eyes pop open and she looks down at the familiar hands and arms of Toshinori wrapped around her from behind. Her whole body feels like its on fire in an instant. Biting her lip she turns her face to look at him. He looks like an angel.

She remembers going to bed with him — not WITH him, but, she made him sleep in the queen sized bed. He was injured after all. He went to sleep curled up on one side of the bed, and she on the other. When did they start spooning?

Closing her eyes again she sighed softly, it felt so nice to be in his arms. She could still smell his cologne faintly on his skin, she loved the smell of him. His whole aura was still big and strong and powerful - he just didn’t think so - so being in his arms felt so safe. She knew it was the only place she ever wanted to be.

Things will be different one day, when they are we can talk about it then.

His words from last night rang through her head, she didn’t want to have to wait until that one day came. She knew he was selfless, that he wouldn’t want to put a burden on anyone - but he deserved to be happy too. To chase what he wanted. Keri sighed and turned in his arms slowly so she was facing the sleeping man’s face.

They would have to talk about this now.

Leaning up she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, “Toshinori…”

He hummed softly, squeezing the plush woman in his arms, “Not yet…”

She chuckled gently, “Toshi… come on.”

Toshinori blinked his eyes open and flushed bright red, “UH— I UH—“ Keri put her hand on his chest, activating her quirk to calm him. After a few moments he swallowed thickly, “We’re… very close.”

“I know, I woke up with you spooning me,” Keri smiled, “Problem?”

He flushed beet red, “No— no I… I just don’t remember…”

“We just must have been drawn to another body in the bed, you and I usually sleep alone you know?” She gingerly ran her hand over his chest, “Toshi…. i…. I want us to have that talk you mentioned.”

“Keri.”

“No. I want to have that talk now because I don’t know what will happen tomorrow or the next day and I don’t want to do this anymore.” She looked sternly up at him, tears in her eyes.

His own eyebrows knit together, “Don’t cry—“

“Toshinori, will you go out on a date with me?” She looked up at him, cheeks red, eyes glassy.

The older man felt so conflicted to look into her eyes and know what life had in store for him still, he thought about Nighteye in that moment, about his mentor, about All for One. She didn’t know everything, how could he tell her everything? She dealt with enough, and now she was going to have to deal with more student issues due to the attack the previous day.

Taking a deep breath he sighed, “Keri… you’re just still all worked up from yesterday is all, you don’t mean that.”

She scoffed softly, “I know perfectly well what I mean and what I don’t mean. I was so worried yesterday and, and I spoke to your friend outside — he… he asked me how long I’ve had feelings for you.”

Toshinori’s cheeks reddened as he looked at her, his arms still wrapped comfortably around her. He wanted to get up, put some distance between them - but he was frozen, “You… have feelings for me?”

“Yeah… I do.”

He took a deep breath and sighed, “You don’t want me, I’m… I’m old and I’m ugly, and I’m all but washed up at this point, and I… I don’t frankly know how long I’m going to live. You don’t even know me that well because I always keep everyone at arms length…”

“I do want you,” She looked up at him, “I know I don’t know everything. And you can take your time telling me what you want to tell me. You’re my best friend, Toshi.” She gently squeezed his shirt, “I want to try… but if you don’t… then that’s okay too.”

Toshinori looked at the girl he trusted implicitly and he considered everything they’ve been through so far together. She knew about things no other woman knew about him, he so willingly let her almost completely into his life. He’d been asked so many times now if they were dating — well, here she was asking to try? Who was he to deny her?

Taking a deep breath, the older man gently rubbed her side, “I want to try.”

A tear slipped down her cheek as she broke into a smile, “You do?”

He nodded and smiled bashfully, “I’ve never been in a relationship before… I… I don’t know how good I’ll be at it.”

Keri just laughed softly, “We’re literally just going to be what we’ve always been — just, adding in this…”  Leaning up, she pressed her lips gently to his and his whole body tensed. His hands gripped into her hips as he slowly began to kiss her back. His hand slowly threaded into her long messy hair. After she pulled back with a soft smile he chuckled, “I think I can handle that…”

Smiling she ran a thumb over his cheek, “Come on… we have to get ready for work. It’s a big day. You have the big meeting with Nezu and the other teachers, and I have to start 1-A’s counseling.”

He groaned, “Its too early.”

“No, I gotta bring you back to your apartment to get ready.” She chuckled, “I don’t want you to use your hero form until you get to school.”

“Yes, dear.” He smirked and kissed her softly once more before she pulled out of his arms and stood up, stretching, “So… will you still go on a date with me?” Toshi smiled.

Nodding she grinned, “Yes.”

—————

Walking up to the school with Toshinori in his All Might form was strange enough, usually when she was with him he was himself, her small might. But today, he had his arm crooked for her to hold onto, and her arms were wrapped around his enormous bicep, “Are you sure you’re okay with this Toshinori...? It’s only going to be a few moments until we’re seen.” She whispered softly.

He smiled a winning smile down at her, “I asked you on a date! What kind of partner would I be if I didn’t escort you to work!?”

She giggled gently at his explosive cheer, “Toshi- I’m serious.” “I’ve wanted to walk with you like this for a while, I don’t care who sees. Everyone we know apparently thinks we’re dating, right? So, here we are on time and ready for work.” He smiled more subtly, and winked.

Blushing she smiled and nodded, “All right, All Might.”

Walking into the front doors of UA, the kids still in the hallway seemed to stare in disbelief- wasn’t that the guidance counselor? - some whispered. Some less kind words reached her ears and she almost looked down, pulling away before she heard a strong voice. Her anchor, “Look at me, baby,” she looked up, “You look beautiful today.”

She flushed bright red, keeping control over her quirk- but barely- “Toshi...” she smiled.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your office,” he smoothly took her hand and led her to the elevator, as if he was in hero mode saving her from being embarrassed. Once they were alone in the small room, he leaned down and kissed her forehead, “You okay?”

“Yeah- you?”

He nodded with a small smile.

She took a deep breath and leaned into him, “You’ll make sure to fill me in on what Nezu and the others have to say at the meeting, right? Since I can’t attend.”

“Oh yes, of course, I’ll fill you in over lunch,” he nodded, stopping to take her hand once more to walk her to her office on the administrative floor, “You’re going to be great today.”

Chuckling gently she motioned for him to lean down, and she stroked his cheek gently, “So are you... I’ll see you at lunch.”

He nodded and leaned into the gap, kissing her softly.

—————

Across town… an old hero was sitting down with his breakfast to watch the morning news and read an interesting letter from an old student…

Greetings,

The air is warm here, it feels like summer is around the corner. I hope this letter finds you well, sir, in good health and even better spirits. This semester I took a position as a teacher at UA High School. Thats right. Me. Now guiding the next generation of heroes.

I was hoping to find someone worthy of inheriting my power among the elite students at the school. A hero in training with outstanding test scores and a powerful quirk. However, before my tenure even began, I met a young man. Even though he was weak and had no quirk of his own, he showed incredible bravery. He rushed into a dangerous situation that pro heroes, even myself, to hesitate.

He managed to save the life of a classmate. He might not have had a plan when he ran in, but he knew he had to do something. I feel like watching this young man spring into action taught me something that day. It reminded me of the virtues I must embody in order to call myself aa hero. Thats why I meant it when I told him he too could become a hero. Shortly after that, I told this pupil the secret of my quirk, and proposed that he inherit it from me - he accepted without hesitation. I have been training him for the trials he will have to overcome, in order to be accepted into the hero course at UA. Even though he struggles with his abilities, he gives it 100 percent as he tried to harness One for All.

I don’t like to toot my own horn, but I believe I found the perfect person. Who has what it takes to be a real hero. I’m still quite new at the role of instructor, so the time may come when I have to trouble you, my old teacher, for advice. I’ll be counting on your wisdom and patience when that time comes.

Until then, please take care of yourself as the seasons begin to change.

There is, however, something troubling me that I would like to request your advice on now, sir. There is a woman in my life. I think I am in love with her, and I don’t know what to do. She knows my secret, she knows about One for All. I actually met her last year when I visited UA to speak to Nezu. She and I have been almost inseparable and, sometimes I can convince myself maybe she has feelings for me as well.

She is the schools guidance councilor. Patho is her hero name - but her name is Keri Chairo. Isn’t that a beautiful name? But she’s so young, she’s a year younger than Aizawa, and - well, suffice to say, I am so conflicted on what to do.

What would you do?

I’ll continue to keep you updated on what’s happening with my young pupil.

Sincerely Yours, Toshinori Yagi

“So,” he smirked, “Toshinori has found himself a successor and a woman in such a short time, I’ll have to write back immediately. Poor sap.”

————————

Keri smiled, pouring a cup of tea for Eijiro Kirishima, her first student counseling session of the morning, “How are you feeling this morning, Eijiro?”

The red-headed boy smiled up at her, “I’m feeling okay… a little weary but… I think mostly okay?” He picked up the cup, blowing on it, “Thank you for the tea— you have a really cute office.”

She smiled again and sat back down, “Thank you, so, you’re class is getting a lot of attention, hm?”

“Yeah! We’re like celebrities!” He laughed a little, “But, I dunno…” Patho tilted her head and rested her chin on her hand to listen to him, “I don’t know if I’m ready to be seen like that, helpless in a disaster. It just, it makes me think about when I was in middle school.”

She took a sip of her tea and pushed a plate of cookies toward him, “What do you mean, Eijiro? What happened in middle school?’

“I just,” he paused, clearly still shaken up under his cool facade, “I used to be such a coward, I never helped anyone. And I mean - yesterday? I don't think my stupid quirk helped anyone either.”

Keri smiled softly, her forehead beginning to glow as she sent calming waves toward the teen, “First off, your quirk is certainly not stupid. You just haven’t unlocked its full potential yet is all, that’s what most quirk users lack, the motivation to find out where they fit.”

He sipped his tea, feeling a little better already.

“Also, recognizing you want to be better and to actively take steps to improve yourself into the man you want to be - that’s extremely brave and grown up to do, you know.”

“It… is?” Kirishima blushed.

She nodded, “Of course. Plenty of us pros are scared to death, but we know what we need to rise to become to be heroes, and you definitely understand that already, Eijiro. Most of your classmates probably skated by all their life until now.” She smiled, “When you’re someone without vast amounts of power, you respect and work for it. But those who have always had power? They’ll end up having more work to do on themselves in the long run. So, really, you’re ahead.”

A small, bashful smile came over his face, “You think I’m ahead?”

Keri nodded, “I do.” She took another drink of her tea, “I think you’re a sensitive, sweet, brave guy. Definitely the picture of what it means to be a man - you just keep holding that image of who you want to be in your head, Eijiro, and I know you’ll hone your quirk and do great things.”

His eyes pricked with tears and he grinned, wiping at his eyes, “Miss Keri, you’re the coolest ever… I mean it.”

Giggling gently she smiled, “Would you like to hang out here a little while longer and drink your tea?”

He hummed softly, “Yeah. I really would it that’s okay, Miss.”

“Of course it is, Eijiro - so tell me, who is your favorite hero?”

Grinning he seemed to be shaken our of the small funk he was in, “Crimson Riot! The gentleman hero! He’s so cool and manly and he always does what’s right! I wanna be just like him!” She giggled gently and smiled before he paused, “Who’s your favorite hero, miss Keri?”

She blushed a little and chuckled, “Well, when I was a little girl… I wanted to be just like All Might. I had this doll of him that I carried around everywhere.”

He laughed, “It must be so amazing to get to work with him!”

“Oh… its certainly something alright,” She chuckled.

“You guys are like... really close right? I mean — I heard someone say you were holding hands this morning?” He leaned over and smirked, “Whats the deets?”

Keri blushed and sighed, looking at him, “You are definitely very charming, I’ll give you that. I don’t see any reason why you wont have a sea of groupies when you get your license…”

“You didn’t answer my question!” He pouted.

She smirked, “A woman’s got to have some secrets, hm?”

Huffing he slid down in his seat, finishing his tea, “I guess.”

Laughing softly she stood, “Okay, Eijiro, I think it’s time for you to head back to class. But you come and see me any time you’re feeling down and out - or even if you just need someone to chat with, okay?”

He smiled and picked up his backpack, going to the door, “Thanks Miss Chairo, I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Anytime,” she smiled and waved, closing the door, she sighed, “He’s relatively fine from that — lets see, who’s next—“

She didn’t even need to look at her calendar as the door slammed open, “Why do I keep ending up here, nerd.”

Turning she smiled, “Good morning Katsuki.”

“Tch, whatever Pathological. I passed shitty hair in the hall, so - is he over here like a sap getting his head shrunk and all that?” He crossed over to the fridge, “Can I have some of this milk?”

“Of course,” Keri rolled her eyes with a smile, “Eijiro and I were talking about our favorite heroes.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes as he poured a glass, “Such a waste of time coming out of damn class to shoot the shit. I know who his favorite hero is, and it isn’t All Might. Who he hell’s favorite hero isn’t All Might?”

She smiled a little more, “I mean, you know I’m in agreement with you.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re his little sidekick nowadays. Never see one without the other. It’s annoying. Someone told me you two were holding hands this morning. Never thought All Might would let a dumb girl get in his way.” He took a drink of the milk before going to sit down.

“Why does everyone keep bringing that up?”

“Tch, what are you, dense?” He looked at her in earnest for a moment, “This is all Might we’re talking about, not some extra like Ectoplasm. All Might comes to school holding hands with your dumb ass, of course people are gonna talk.”

“Well then, lets just cut to the point shall we? How are you feeling from yesterday, Katsuki?” “I feel fine. What’s the big deal? This is more a UA problem than a me problem.”

“I just need to check with everyone, especially for the sake of your parents, that you are all going to be alright in the weeks to come, especially with the Sports Festival looming.”

He leaned back on his chair, eating a cookie, since they were there, “Well my parents know I’m fine, I know I’m fine, and I’m gonna win that damn festival.”

She smirked, “Well, good.”

Frowning he put his chair legs back on the floor, ‘Whats that smirk for, dumbass?”

Patho just sighed, “You’re my favorite student, you know that?”

His cheeks lit red and he coughed, “Of course I’m your favorite! I’m the best at everything! Even seeing the guidance councilor! I’m going back to class. These cookies suck.” He chugged the rest of his milk, going to rinse out the glass, “I’m sure there are other extras who need to talk more than me. I don’t need you. You know? I just come up here to humor you.”

“Of course, Katsuki.” She smiled, “Have a good day, alright?”

“I will!” He huffed, still blushing, “and you know- like, you too — DUMBASS.” He practically steamrolled out of the door and she laughed to herself.

She had a ten minute break between appointments now, and so she let her thoughts wander to Toshinori as she cleaned up her office for the next student - Tenya.

#all might x reader #all might x oc #my hero academia #all might #toshinori yagi

24 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 5 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: HOORAY last of the strictly rewrites!!! thank u sm for ur patience if ur still waiting on chapter 6, i promise i’ll make it soon! lots of lo-ove, by-ee!!

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

“And…one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three-”

“Goddamnit shit cunt bitch fuck piss in my mouth,” Brooke exhales frustratedly all at once, and Vanessa holds back an involuntary chuckle. It would be funny if it didn’t hit so close to home. It’s only twelve o’clock and it’s day three of rehearsals but already Brooke’s entire body language is defeated, like a burst balloon, and Vanessa is worried.

It’s all her fault, really. The scores from Saturday night still burn her brain if she thinks about them too much, hot coals on a grate. Twenty one out of forty. If it were a grade in a test it’d barely be a pass, and Vanessa can practically see her eyes turn green in the studio mirrors if she thinks about the fact they were sixth on the leaderboard behind Jan and Jackie, Crystal and Gigi, Monique and Monet, Akeria and Asia and Jaida and Yvie. Vanessa does not do sixth. Vanessa does not do anything other than top three, and the fact that she ended last week in the middle of the leaderboard enrages her. Okay, she knows this isn’t her journey- it’s Brooke’s, but Vanessa has a reputation to uphold; it’s her first year and she cannot be seen as a dud pro. So on Sunday she’d channeled her fighting spirit into an appropriate dance, and this week they’re doing a Paso Doble. Well. They’re meant to be doing a Paso Doble, but it’s fast and it’s frenetic and Brooke isn’t managing to get her head around this one particular section. Vanessa feels like packing it in, to tell the producers they’re doing something else, but really what kind of person would she be if she pulled that stunt? So instead she’s been watching Brooke become increasingly irritated at herself since 8 this morning and tried to come up with a way she can teach it that’ll work.

“This is my fault,” Vanessa verbalises what she’s thinking and bites her lip. “I’ve made this too hard.”

Brooke suddenly freezes and glares at her. “Are you saying I’m shit?”

PANIC. “No, fuck no! That’s not it at all, I just-”

Vanessa suddenly relaxes as Brooke splutters a held-in laugh, thumping her on the arm. “Shut the fuck up, bitch! I was nervous.”

“Not as nervous as I am about this fucking dance,” Brooke sighs, running her hands down her face slowly. Vanessa looks at the clock and makes a decision.

“You hungry?”

Brooke shrugs. “I am quite, now you mention it.”

“Good. Get your jacket. We’re gonna get lunch.”

Brooke winces. “But I still haven’t got-”

“We have got all damn day to learn this motherfuckin’ dance, now will you put your jacket on and let’s go?” Vanessa says firmly, Brooke giving a little laugh, shaking her head in resignation before crossing the room to grab her things. Vanessa’s pleased, and there’s small fireworks going off in her heart. She’s just asked Brooke to lunch and she’s said yes, not that Vanessa gave her much of a choice admittedly. As Brooke holds the door of the studio open for her, Vanessa starts wondering about where they could go to eat. She’s distracted by the way they’re walking down the corridor side-by-side, the way that Brooke stays close to her despite the fact there’s plenty room for them to have their own space. Vanessa feels like putting an arm around her waist, then decides against it. That kind of contact is special, reserved for a Saturday night after their dance is over and they’re standing together in front of the judges.

They walk out into the chilly October air, and Vanessa’s regretting only taking her hoodie out with her. The weather is quintessentially British- it had been raining that morning but now it has subsided, so the paving slabs glisten with puddles and the cars that go by roll smoothly through the rain-sheened roads and the grey clouds still hang heavy and ominous in the sky. Normally weather like this makes Vanessa yearn for her trips back to Puerto Rico, where the October temperatures are what the UK could only dream of in Summer, but standing outside in the cold and damp doesn’t seem so bad with Brooke looking at her expectantly.

“Where d’you wanna go?” she asks her. Brooke shrugs.

“Starbucks? Take it back and we can eat while we practise?”

Vanessa lets out a laugh and rolls her eyes, both irritated and impressed by Brooke’s dedication. She has a think and then remembers that place a few streets along from the studios where she, Akeria and Monique had grabbed brunch one time before a pro dance rehearsal. The thought of poached eggs with golden yolks on avocado toast makes her stomach rumble and she jerks her head in its direction. “C’mon.”

The walk and the fresh, icy air works a treat at clearing Vanessa’s head and by the time she and Brooke grab a wobbly wooden table by the steamed-up window in the cafe she’s feeling loads better about their Paso even though technically it’s still a mess. She picks up the menu despite knowing exactly what she wants and gives it a scan before Brooke plucks it unceremoniously out of her hands.

“Hey!”

“What?” Brooke smirks knowingly. Vanessa doesn’t complain further, instead indulging in the way Brooke’s eyes dart about as she scans the dishes on the menu, the way her brow furrows and the way she bites her bottom lip as she thinks. When Brooke looks at her again, Vanessa rushes to pretend she hadn’t had her eyes on her first.

“They have some really nice stuff here.”

Vanessa nudges the fork on the table a little to the left. “Me, Kiki an’ Monique went here a couple weeks back. They both had pancakes and they were really good apparently, so…”

She tails off, and Brooke nods. “You’re close with them, huh?”

“Well, we’re all kind of like sisters. All the dancers. In, like…the most literal way possible. We bicker and bitch and steal each others’ makeup and clothes but we love each other underneath it all. But yeah, those two are my girls,” Vanessa smiles involuntarily as she thinks about her friends. She thinks before adding, “They helped me through all the shit last year.”

Brooke smiles sympathetically and nods. “That’s cute that you’re all, like, a family.”

“It’s real nice. ‘Specially since all I really have here is my Mom, and I don’t get to see her all that often.”

Brooke leans her chin on her hands, listening intently. Vanessa realises she’s left her last sentence a little cryptic, so she elaborates. “We came over from San Juan when I was two. Fuck knows why my Mom wanted to leave, but we did. The rest of my family’s still over there- my Abuela, my Tia and Tio, all my lil’ cousins.”

“Do you get to visit much?” Brooke asks. Vanessa nods a yes.

“Way more nowadays than I ever got to when I was little. Obviously when we first came here we didn’t have a huge amount of money but my Mom always made sure to save enough to fly back every Summer for the school holidays an’ stuff.”

Vanessa pauses and looks out of the window. Her stomach feels tight with guilt. “But obviously it got harder when I started wanting to dance, cuz hell, if this country don’t like giving out free school meals then they sure as hell hate subsidisin’ your dance classes.”

Brooke laughs humourlessly in agreement. Vanessa picks at her cuticles as she keeps talking, stares at the table to avoid Brooke’s eyes. “So there were sometimes Summers when we couldn’t afford to go back over because of me. That was hard. My Mom was always really good about it and encouraged me and said it was fine but I still remember her on the phone to my family and how much she cried afterwards…damn. I felt like shit. Guess I still do.”

Brooke pulls a sympathetic face. “But I mean, you’ve been able to go back since then, right? So what do you have to be guilty for?”

“I don’t know,” Vanessa shrugs sharply, frowns a little. “I guess it was just selfish of me. Lookin’ back I should’ve thought about my Mom more.”

“Yeah, but it all worked out for the best. You’re now able to fly her out way more frequently because of the career you’re in, because of the sacrifices you both made back then. Right?”

Vanessa feels something bloom in her ribcage as she smiles at Brooke. Her eyes are kind and she’s talking like a therapist and listening to all of Vanessa’s pent-up guilt and regret even though she has absolutely no responsibility or obligation to do so. “Yeah. Sorry. I just kinda dumped all that on you.”

Brooke shakes her head. “Don’t be silly. This is nice.”

Nice. It is nice. It’s nice to sit in a busy, cosy cafe with Brooke while outside is cold and damp and talk about her life and be listened to. Vanessa feels content and peaceful for the first time perhaps since this competition started. Her mind hasn’t been this clear in a while.

“What about your family?” Vanessa asks. Brooke smiles involuntarily as she gazes at the ceiling. It’s cute.

“Aw, I miss them so much. My Mommy, my total queen and my rock. I love her,” she says happily. Vanessa can’t help but smile at her words. She knows what it’s like to cling to her Mom as growing up they only really had each other. Brooke folds her arms as she continues. “And then I’ve got my older brother and two older sisters who I love to death as well. But I don’t miss my sisters. Well, I don’t miss the way they borrow half my fucking outfits.”

Vanessa snorts a laugh as Brooke shakes her head long-sufferingly. “So you’re the baby of the family then?”

Brooke shrugs. “An overgrown baby at thirty years old, but yeah. All my siblings are either in relationships or married so you can imagine how fun that is whenever I go back to Canada, getting questioned by the fucking relationship Gestapo.”

The sentence makes Vanessa’s heart start climbing the stairs of hope, and she’s not even attempting to stop it. She fidgets with a corner of her paper napkin as she speaks again. “Oh, so you ain’t…you’re not seeing anyone at the moment, then?”

“Why, who’s asking?” Brooke cocks an eyebrow. Vanessa instantly feels her cheeks flood scarlet, and Brooke lets out a howl of a laugh. “Kidding, kidding! No, I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Right, right,” Vanessa nods as nonchalantly as she can. She thinks about testing deeper conversational waters, considers killing two birds of curiosity with one stone. They’re on the topic of relationships, and who knows when they’ll get onto it again, so she decides to dive in. “Just thought you might, y’know…have a boyfriend. Or somethin’.”

“No, no boyfriend,” Brooke says simply. She leans her head on the fist she’s made and raises her eyebrows a little, giving Vanessa a quick once-over. “Or girlfriend.”

It’s the answer she’s been hoping for, confirming her suspicions that Brooke’s into girls, but the flirting panics her and so Vanessa reaches for the discarded menu to fidget with as she lightly shrugs, moving the conversation along with all the tact and delicacy of a steamroller. “So you live on your own then?”

“Yeah. Just me.”

“Me too. You like it?”

Brooke pulls a face, looks down in thought for a second. “Sometimes. Part of me likes the feeling of being completely on my own, because I can do literally whatever the hell I want, take things at my own pace. There’s nobody to nag me or tell me what to do. I realise that makes me sound literally half my age, but it’s true. I can sing as loud as I want.”

“You sing?” Vanessa asks, intrigued. Brooke laughs.

“I didn’t say I sing well!” she snorts, and Vanessa lets out a giggle too. Brooke continues, her gaze focused on the world outside the window as she speaks. “It’s nice though, that feeling of freedom. On the other hand I just miss, like…coexisting with someone? I don’t know. Like when I came to uni over here and I had flatmates and there was that feeling of comfort to know that there was always someone in the next room to talk to, or make dinner with, or just watch TV with. Just someone to do normal shit with. You know?” Brooke narrows her eyes as she finishes her sentence, appealing to Vanessa.

“Yeah, I get it,” Vanessa replies, letting out a little sigh as she lets a few memories in and then slams that particular door firmly shut. “I miss that too, sometimes.”

The silence lingers between the two of them for a second before Brooke speaks again, her tone upbeat and cheerful. “But I mean, for the most part, my flat’s great. It’s part of this new-build, hi-tech apartment complex that only got done building last year. We’ve got a gym, there’s a shop at the bottom, there’s meeting rooms we can book…”

“Yeah, I think you told me about the gym once,” Vanessa nods in recognition, and Brooke’s smile widens as she has an idea.

“You should come round some time. You’d love it.”

Vanessa tries to stop the blush that threatens to hit her face. The invitation is personal and not rehearsal or show related, and that fact shouldn’t make her as happy as it does. She fixes Brooke with a smile and nods shyly. “Yeah. That’d be cool.”

Still visibly buoyed, Brooke reaches across the table and rests her hand on top of Vanessa’s, patting it gently. There’s a little spark of static when they touch, a metaphor come to life. When Brooke smiles at her, Vanessa feels comfortable.

“This was a good idea. Thanks for dragging me out.”

Vanessa shrugs, doesn’t move her hand. She smiles lazily at her dance partner. “It’s okay. We both needed a break.”

As the waiter comes to take their order Brooke’s hand flies out from its position on top of hers, but Vanessa doesn’t mind. There’s a connection that’s been forged that isn’t physical, and she knows it’s still there even if Brooke’s hand isn’t.

Rehearsal ends up going smoother the rest of that day. Okay- it’s not perfect, but Brooke starts picking it up and Vanessa’s mind is less cloudy. Thursday brings more rain and full runs of the dance that don’t go smoothly but Vanessa is relieved because at least they’ve fucking learned it. By Friday they’re exhausted and worn out and Vanessa hates this dance, hates this fucking dance, but it’s one step closer to being over for good. She’s disappointed when it occurs to her that they’re not going to get particularly favourable scores- their run is still riddled with mistakes, but at least Brooke’s worked hard on what she was critiqued for last week. Her core is stronger due to the planks Vanessa’s been making them both do at the start of every rehearsal and her elbow hasn’t drooped once- not that there’s much chance for it to during a Paso, but at least the judges will be able to see that she’s taking their comments on board. Vanessa’s proud of her. She tells Brooke so before they go home on Friday night, when it’s quiet outside and different shades of dark. She thinks Brooke might be blushing as she thanks her and says goodbye, but she can’t be sure.

Saturday happens in a frighteningly fast blur- there’s excitement but it’s nervous instead of anticipative, as everybody knows that tonight one couple will be eliminated. Vanessa’s not really worried about that though- the bottom of the leaderboard last week was comprised of Courtney and Blair, Plastique and Scarlet, Willam and Phi Phi and Aja and Farrah, so in comparison she supposes sixth isn’t too bad. Her aim for tonight’s dance had been to climb up the leaderboard a bit, but knowing how their Paso’s been going Vanessa will call it a success if they both stay where they are.

It turns out they drop down to seventh behind Shea and Peppermint, after their American Smooth has the judges on their feet. Brooke and Vanessa’s Paso goes…well, it goes. It’s not the best they’ve done it but it’s done, thank God, and they never have to do it again.

Unless of course they’re in the dance off. But Vanessa doesn’t permit herself to think about that. Instead, she thinks about the warmth of Brooke’s hand in hers as they walk through the corridor together after their judge’s critiques and their interview. Neither of them address the fact their hands are entwined, and that’s okay. Vanessa likes it like that.

“You okay?” she asks Brooke, halfway down the hallway, as their character shoes squeak quietly against the laminate flooring and they cast fleeting shadows against the manila walls.

Brooke sighs a little, gives a half-hearted shrug. “Yeah.”

“No you’re not. C’mere,” Vanessa frowns, using the hand she’s holding to pull Brooke into a hug. It’s gentle and tight all at once, the way Brooke’s strong arms are holding her close contrasting with the way her hands are light against her back. Brooke smells of a Saturday night: tan in a bottle and hairspray and Jimmy Choo Flash perfume. It’s not like her usual scent of freshly-washed hair and her fabric softener (Lenor Gold Orchid- Vanessa had smelt them all rather self-indulgently on her last trip to Tesco to work out which was Brooke’s).

“I don’t want to let you down,” Brooke whispers above her, and Vanessa can tell she’s got tears in her eyes without even having to look into them. She takes a deep breath and shakes her head against her chest.

“You could go out there, forget the entire dance and do the fucking Macarena for all I care. You always make me proud.”

Vanessa feels Brooke press a kiss to the top of her head and it sets off a blush she can feel spreading down her face onto her neck and across her chest. Brooke had kissed her again after their dance had finished, quick and emphatic against her temple, and it had set off butterflies in her stomach that threatened to fly up into the rigging of the lights. Vanessa wants to get caught up in the moment, wants even to hold her gaze and see how she’d react if she asked to kiss her properly, but instead she pulls herself out of the hug. She keeps their hands connected though and as she meets Brooke’s eyes and finds that she’s smiling at her, Vanessa concludes it was the right decision to make.

“Fuck the scores,” she says, remembering each paddle (4, 5, 5, 5) with a sting as if she’s been smacked with them. “The Paso wasn’t for us and it’s over now. On to the next one.”

“Unless we’re in the dance off.”

“Brooke Lynn, Bianca gave Blair a two. I think we’ll be fine.”

Vanessa isn’t wrong, and it turns out their position looks better compared to some of the other dances they see once they’ve been through makeup to get neatened up again. Poor Scarlet tries her best to get through her Jive with Plastique but her feet just aren’t doing the things Vanessa knows Scarlet wants them to, and the judges give them a combined score of fifteen. Scarlet looks deflated as she leaves the dancefloor and the moment their interview is over Vanessa watches as Yvie pulls her into a hug (Vanessa knows that type of hug because she’s just given Brooke the exact same one). Aja and Farrah’s Samba wasn’t great either and they earn themselves a mark of seventeen. Despite this, though, by the time the show finishes and they have to assemble to film the results (which are pre-recorded and then broadcast on a Sunday), they’re both a bag of nerves. She and Brooke are placed on the stairs with a spotlight burning down onto them, ants under a magnifying glass. The mood between the couples is decidedly tense, and as Vanessa looks down at the girls on the dancefloor she sees Monet squeeze Monique’s waist as Monique sighs and rests her head against the other girl’s shoulder. Vanessa wants to scoff at the fact they both seem nervous. The waltz they did almost brought the house down and they even got a nine from Laganja, so unless the only votes they got were ones they gave themselves, they’re very likely to be safe.

Michelle does her intro and, as the lights go down, Vanessa feels as if her heart is going to break her ribcage it’s beating so heavily.

“I can now reveal that the first couple safe and through to next week is…”

Long pause. The beat of a drum and Brooke’s pulse that Vanessa can feel through the hand she’s holding. Vanessa is so nervous that she casts her eyes up to the heavens. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…

“Jan and Jackie!”

Jan screams and Jackie falls gratefully into her arms as she yells a “thank you!” at the camera that’s barely heard over the applause.

“The second couple safe is…”

Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Vanessa gives a minute bow of her head like her Mom taught her to do at mass when she was little. Is it sacreligious to pray if you’re lapsed? Some priests probably think so. Vanessa hopes it’s working in their favour anyway.

“Heidi and Vixen!”

Vanessa can’t see their reaction as they’re positioned above them at the very top of the stairs, and she doesn’t want to turn around in case…it’s bad luck? She doesn’t know. At this point she’s not risking anything, not even looking up to see Brooke’s face.

“The next couple safe and through to next week is…”

Holy Mary, Mother of God…you take away the sins of the world? Nah, that’s the wrong one. Fuck.

“Gigi and Crystal!”

Vanessa wants to roll her eyes, much as she’s happy for her friend. Of course they’re safe. They were second on the leaderboard last week and first tonight after a scarily in-sync Charleston. It comes as no surprise to her.

“The first couple in tonight’s dance-off will be…”

Vanessa feels truly nauseous. It wouldn’t be impossible for it to be them, stranger things have happened on the show. What the fuck is that next line? Holy Mary, Mother of God…

“Blair and Courtney.”

Vanessa’s heart feels as if it’s been shocked by jumpleads. She feels Brooke give an involuntary squeeze of her hand, and Vanessa strokes her thumb against hers in return. They just need to not be the other couple in the dance off. It’s doable.

“The next couple safe and through to next week is…”

…pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death-

“Brooke and Vanessa!”

Vanessa doesn’t screech or scream. Instead she finally turns to Brooke, who’s meeting her smile with a matching one plastered across her own face. She falls into her outstretched arms in relief, and mumbles a “thank you” to the camera while Brooke holds her tight. They’ve made it. They live to fight another week.

Amen.

Of course, one couple isn’t so lucky and, after a tense dance-off between Scarlet and Plastique and Blair and Courtney, it turns out Blair is the first celebrity to leave the competition. The girls get upset- the celebrities have all become a part of their big, crazy family now, and it’s sad that Vanessa will no longer hear Blair laugh at something Vixen has said, or compliment her on her makeup, or ask to get selfies with everyone in the dressing room. It’s Vixen, though, who is affected the most by Blair’s departure. Vanessa knows they’re good friends but she wonders if perhaps they’ll ever become something more as she watches Vixen cling to Yvie and sob and sob. The moment they’re all allowed, the pros and celebrities flood the dancefloor as Blair and Courtney dance their last dance. Vixen makes a beeline for Blair and Courtney graciously steps out of her way so the pair of them can hug and cry in tandem.

“Shit, this is rough,” Vanessa mutters to nobody in particular. Monique, who’s materialised beside her, shrugs.

“Yep, well. I don’t plan on havin’ to go through it, so it’s not a problem for me.”

Vanessa snorts at her friend’s cockiness, then pulls a sympathetic face as Blair approaches the pair of them, all streaming mascara and sniffles.

“C’mere, baby. You did so well, be proud of yourself,” Vanessa offers to her, and Blair smiles gently before her face crumples again.

“Just…look after my girl, okay?” she asks them hopefully. Monique smiles, rubs her forearm gently.

“Oh, sweetie, Courtney will be fine, she’s a big girl.”

“Courtney?” Blair asks, confused. Then she appears to realise something and she smiles back at Monique, a little embarrassed. “Oh no, um…I meant Toni. Can you both look out for her? Make sure she’s okay after I’m gone? I mean I know her and Heidi are going to go far, but…y’know.”

Vanessa wants to cock an eyebrow at Monique in recognition, but she doesn’t. Instead she gives Blair a reassuring look, takes her hand and squeezes it gently. “Sure we will.”

Appeased, Blair thanks them and gives them both a hug before moving on to say goodbye to some of the other girls. As she walks away, Vanessa hears Monique give a big sigh beside her. She tilts her head at her friend inquisitively. “You ‘kay?”

“Yeah, uh…” Monique sighs, rubs her eyes a little. “Could we do lunch at some point this week? Me, you, Kiki. I just need my girls’ advice.”

“About what?” Vanessa asks her. Then, as she follows Monique’s gaze over to where Monet is standing talking to Shea and Aja, the penny drops. “Oh. OH. Okay. Yeah, we’ll do lunch, bitch.”

Monique smiles gratefully at her, then gives her a hug and a goodnight as she’s starting choreography early tomorrow. The coming week’s theme is movies, which is always fun, and Vanessa already has a number in mind. It’s ridiculous, and so quintessentially Strictly. She can’t wait to show it to Brooke.

As Vanessa thinks of Brooke, she finds her eyes scanning the group of girls to see where she is. She’s smiling as she’s talking to Plastique and Scarlet, her smile bright and dazzling and her eyes kind. The lights are hitting her highlight and making it look as if she’s glowing, and her hair catches the light too in its smooth and glossy bun.

Vanessa feels her heart yearn, and she considers the possibility that perhaps it won’t just be Monique talking about the feelings she has for her partner when they both go to lunch with Akeria.

#rpdr fanfiction #ortega #bet you look good on the dancefloor #strictly au #lesbian au #branjie #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #monique heart #monet x change #blair st clair #the vixen #scarlet envy #yvie oddly #background momo #background scyvie #background crygi

19 notes · View notes

sabraeal · 4 years

Text

Get Up Eight, Chapter 5

River of Silk | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Written for my birthday buddy @fade-touched-obsidian‘s birthday! Which is TODAY, since I finally managed to catch up to all my owed (birthday) fics.

The sun lingers at the horizon when they reach Fujisawa, Shirayuki’s feet aching and sore even through the thick wrap of her bandages. Obi’s sandals might have saved them stopping earlier, but his gift would not keep her from hobbling in the morning. If she soaked and dressed them again it might save her some suffering, but--

But she would have to ask for those things, and comfort was in short supply on the road.

“You are shivering, ojou-san.” When she dares to look up, Obi is watching her with those strange eyes of his, narrow. “Are you cold?”

“No.” A pleasant breeze has been rising off the waters, and she only wishes she could remove this scarf, letting it blow away the deep itch that has settled into her scalp. “I’m warm enough.”

His brow raises, skeptical. “Is it your feet then? Do you need to tend to them?”

The checkpoint’s line is long, and standing here, shuffling along at a snail’s pace is certainly not helping, but still she shakes her head. “No, no need stop. I only...”

Her teeth snap around the words, but far too late. Obi stares at her, expectant, another brow joining the first when she hesitates.

“It’s the dōshin,” she admits, as easy as pulling teeth. “What if they think we’re suspicious? Are you sure that we don’t need to--?”

“Ojou-san,” he laughs, “I’ve told you before-- no dōshin guard these gates. They leave it to administrators who report back to them, and then they report to the yoriki, and then the yoriki decide whether they report to a bugyō today or not, based on how far they feel like walking.”

Shirayuki squints into the distance, mouth bending into a frown. There are two that she can see, inspecting a cart that has come to the gate, and they are dressed in the same subdued black as any other samurai, blades slung at their hips.

“They have swords,” she informs him. “A chonin can’t carry--”

“A katana. But those are wakizashi.” His lips curve in a smirk. “This is all theater, ojou-san.”

One of the men smacks the cart, urging it on, as the other calls the next group forward, hand on his hilt. Their authority may all be an illusion, but the men seem to believe in it well enough-- they may not be real dōshin, but a short blade will cut her as easily as a long one; a fact that makes this bit of kabuki uncomfortably real.

“Besides.” He hooks his hands behind his head, rolling his neck until it gives a sickening crack. “What’s there to be suspicious of? You’re a well-dressed-- if a little worse for wear-- ojou-san, and I’m your yojimbo.” His teeth flash behind his lips. “Unless you don’t think I’m convincing?”

“N-no!” she protests, tugging at her scarf. “You are! I just--”

Her words shrivel on her tongue as his hands come out, tugging the cloth from her grasp.

“Enough of that, ojou-san,” he tells her gently. “Or else it might come loose.”

“Oh.” Her hands knot in the strap across her chest. This close she can see the gold in his eyes, like fireflies caught in amber. “Right.”

He pulls the cloth just so, so that it sits tight against her skin. “I should carry that bag.”

She blinks, shuffling back a step. It nearly sends her sprawling; between her blisters feet and her too-large sandals, she stumbles, but Obi’s hand snaps out, catching her by the sleeve of her yukata.

“Easy, ojou-san,” he murmurs, setting her back on her feet. “It was a suggestion.”

Her fingers tighten on the strap, blanching at the knuckles “I have to be the one that carries it.”

“I understand.” His gaze flicks pointedly toward the men at the gate. “But fine young ojou-san like yourself don’t typically--”

“Please.” The word is hardly more than a breath. “No one else should carry it.”

He lets out a long breath; a noise she knows all too well. She’s testing his patience. “I understand duty, ojou-san, but please--” his mouth curves in a smirk-- “I’m your yojimbo, and you’re carrying the bag that clanks. At least let them think my bags are heavier.”

The other shukuba have been crowded-- this close to Edo, it would be hard for them to be anything but-- but Fujisawa is more crowded still. Even in the streets, Shirayuki is pressed shoulder to shoulder with other travelers, jostled this way and that by the current of the crowd.

A hand spans the small of her back, and she nearly yelps for the dōshin before she realizes it’s Obi, keeping her close.

“There’s so many people,” she murmurs, tucking tighter against his side. The press may not part for her, but he stands half a head taller than most, and near him the path is easier.

“It’s the temple.” His fingers tighten on her back, just a moment, before relaxing. “Most of these people aren’t merchants, they’re pilgrims.”

She blinks, scanning the crowd. How he can tell is beyond her. “The temple?”

“Yeah,” he hums, moving her close as a man nearly knocks into her arm. “Some water goddess lives on an island down that way. It’s always a pain to get through.”

She follows the jut of his chin, but there’s only shops in front of them, with their serving women out in front, trying to gain some last minute custom before the travelers took lodging for the night. “Water goddess...”

“Okyakusama!” a woman lilts, voice pitched enticingly high. “Come try our fare! I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

In one hand she’s clutching meat on a stick, though it’s hard to see what kind from this distance, especially when Obi’s hand presses more firmly at her back, driving her along.

“No, no,” he calls back to the woman, mouth curving in a smile. “I couldn’t.”

“Then try here, okyakusama!” another woman calls out, holding a bowl of soba. “You’ll leave more than satisfied!”

“No, come here, okyakysama!” yet another sings, holding out what seem to be small, fried balls. ��Just a little taste couldn’t do any harm.”

He raises his hands, as if fending them off. “Please, ladies, I’ll ruin my appetite.”

“Are you sure?” The woman cradling her soba gives him a long, appreciative look, and-- oh. Oh. This wasn’t just about food. “I’d hate to see a strong, young man like you go hungry.”

“Don’t worry about me, ojou-san.” Her stomach churns as his smile slips to a smirk. “I’ve been fed well enough.”

His hand falls to her back, and she doesn’t think it’s her imagination that he hurries her along somewhat faster, careful not to make eye contact with any more of the serving women as they walk.

She can’t help herself, she looks back at them, watching as they descend upon another unwitting traveler. “They were all so interested in you.”

He gives her a wolfish smile, just a flash of teeth. “I must look hungry. What do you think, ojou-san?” He holds out his other arm for inspection, oblivious to how his kimono gapes across his chest. “Am I wasting away?”

If only she could keep her cheeks from flushing, it could stay that way. “N-no. You look fine enough to me.”

Oh, that was-- that was not the way to put it.

“I mean,” she blurts out, melting under his grin, “that I don’t think that was it.”

“No,” he agrees, gaze slipping from her to fix itself ahead of them. “The last time I came through here I was skin and bones, but they didn’t have any time for me.” He slants a wry look at her. “Merchants can smell money, ojou-san.”

Her hands tighten around the strap at her chest. Funny that they hadn’t taken notice of her when the ryo in her bag must stink to high heaven.

“You know,” he murmurs, guiding her until she’s nearly under his arm, “the head covering doesn’t help.”

She blinks up at him, confused.

“With blending in,” he clarifies, gaze drifting over the crowd. His eyes are always in motion, always wary. “Not many women are wearing them now, in summer.”

Her fingers brush at the silk, tips catching on its smooth weave. He’s not wrong, but still--

“Though I imagine--” he glances down at her with a meaningful look-- “taking it off would be worse.”

His gaze drops, sweeping up her with a heat that makes her sweat, like standing much too close to a cook fire, and--

And he has only seen her hair the once, wet from the bath, its color muted and dark, and there had been-- well, there had been more to see than that. Something that a man like him would find more exciting than a hint of red.

By his look, he hasn’t forgotten.

“I-it would be,” she manages, ducking her head, hoping it hides her flush. “Just as much as taking off that sword.”

Obi lifts his arm, blinking down at where it rests on his hip. “Ah,” he hums thoughtfully. “I see. Still,” he casts her a slanted glance, “there are things that can be done if you want to draw less attention.”

“O-oh?” They may be only passing glances, the same any traveler might give another, but every gaze that lingers on her scalds, reminds her that any stray doubt could cause this whole plan to come tumbling down.

Obi leans close-- entirely too close, until she can smell the sweat on his skin and some other, more pleasant scent, musky and natural. “Let me take care of you, ojou-san.”

The soft rumble of his voice, a distant storm in his chest, sends the same frisson through her as when lightning strikes, the air buzzing between them. “W-what?”

He pulls back, gesturing to the strap across her chest. “No yojimbo worth his pay would let his ojou-san carry something that heavy.”

Her shoulders round under her burden. “It’s my responsibility to bear. I’ve told you that.”

He sighs, long-suffering. “So you say, ojou-san, so you say. But--”

“Obi,” she pleads, words little more than a breath. “Don’t ask again.”

His lips press tight, another white scar across his bronzed flesh, the opposite of a mended pot.

“All right.” His gaze fixes ahead, tight lines etched above his brow. “If you say so, ojou-san.”

It is only when Shirayuki is certain she can take no more, each step like walking on glass shards, that she asks, “Is there something wrong?”

Obi blinks, the gold of his eyes catching in the dying light. “Ojou-san?”

“It’s only...” She lets out a huff, drawing to a halt. “We’ve passed so many hatago! Is there something wrong with them?”

He stares for a long moment, two steps ahead of her, body limned in dusk, and lets out a laugh. “Nothing so wrong. Just too crowded.” His mouth curves, wry. “And with the wrong sort of people.”

Her head swivels back toward the last hatago, eyes wide. “You mean...criminals?”

She would have never guessed, not with its well-swept stoop and second floor, screened off from the street. Then again, she, of anyone, knew how appearances could deceive.

Obi coughs, shoulders shaking, and she nearly asks if he feels ill--

But he’s only laughing. At her.

“No, ojou-san. Those places are full of pilgrims.” He casts a wary glance back. “They pay far too much attention to the company they keep. And that’s not what you’re looking for, is it?”

“N-no,” she murmurs, gaze dropping to the cobbles beneath them. “Not...not as such.”

Obi nods. “Then we need to get past the temple road, and probably off the main street. It shouldn’t be too far.” He drags a speculative look over her. “Do you need me to carry you, ojou-san?”

“No!” she yelps, hurrying to his side. “I--I’m fine. Is the temple road far?”

She hopes not; another block and she might need to take Obi up on his offer; she’s not sure she could live with the wound to her pride.

“Not at all.” He nods his head toward the thoroughfare they’re crossing. “It’s here, just at the end of this street.”

Shirayuki blinks, disoriented, her feet stalling out beneath her. There’s nothing special to mark it, just another street like the one they walk, lined with shops and merchants trying to hawk their wares. If she squinted she could make out the lines of the torii gate, spanning a bridge that led out over the water and--

“Oh!” she gasps, hands flying to her mouth. “This is Fujisawa!”

Obi stares down at her, wary. “Yes. I told you that before, ojou-san.”

“Which means--” she whirls to him, hands curling in the wide sleeve of his kimono, “--that is Enoshima!”

He shrugs a shoulder, raising one hand to rub at it. “Sounds about right.”

It’s impossible for her to be able to see the isle from here, not with the way the buildings all crowd together, leaving only a sliver of the sea visible, but she squints at the horizon still, straining to catch a glimpse. In the hazy air, she can almost convince herself that she can see the leafy outline of the mount, the last earthly remains of a dragon tamed--

“Ojou-san?” His worry sings through the word like a plucked string, and, ah, that is what he resembles most now-- a string strung too tight, left vibrating on the fret.

“This is Benzaiten’s shrine,” she tells him, breathless. “One of her most sacred sites. Oba-san...”

She closes her lips around the words. He doesn’t want to hear about her grandmother, about how Oba-san had always swept around the sake house, threatening to play her biwa. How she would pour for their customers, telling them that she was the kami of all that flowed, and Oji-san would only laugh, shaking his head as another discordant strum sent their custom howling into their drinks.

And she can’t afford to tell him. Wealthy ojou-san going to their rich cousins in Kyoto don’t have those sorts of stories.

Obi raises a brow, mouth canting at a corner to match. “Considering a detour, ojou-san?”

Shirayuki casts one last look down the road, chest strangely tight, and shakes her head. “No, I only...wanted to look.”

He hums, taking a glance himself. “Look as long as you can,” he murmurs, so close she can feel the warmth of his body, “if you come back this way again, she might not be here.”

She blinks up at him, wide-eyed. “What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you noticed? Foreigners aren’t welcome, ojou-san.” His mouth twists, wry. “And it seems they mean men and kami alike.”

Shirayuki wants to refute him, to tell him they could never pry Benzaiten from the hill of Enoshima, that the very island itself would rise up and eat their children once more before that would happen--

But the sack at her back has never felt heavier, her knees trembling beneath the weight. She would be far from the first to be exiled under Ameterasu-ōmikami’s rule of the kamidama.

“Too bad.” Obi hooks his hands behind his head, picking up a casual stroll. “I heard the one they got there is naked.”

“W-what?” she splutters, cheeks burning. “I never--”

“Blue-haired and naked with a biwa on her lap,” he clarifies breezily, leading her down the road. “Artfully placed, of course, ojou-san. They take it out once every seven years. I wonder--”

“Is that a hatago?” she asks, too loudly, hurrying in front of him so he can’t see her flush. “Perhaps we should stay there for the night.”

“Mm,” he hums. She doesn’t need to turn to know that he’s smirking. “If that’s what you want, ojou-san.”

Despite his deference, Obi does not select that hatago for their stay. One glance at their custom and he shakes his head, herding her away from the doors.

“Pilgrims,” he explains casually. “And dōshin.”

“Dōshin?” She glances back, brow furrowed. “But wouldn’t they be in their own houses? Or at least the honjin?”

“One would think,” Obi agrees, hurrying her along the cobbles. “Down this way, ojou-san. There should be a suitable place here.”

“Mm,” she hums, absent, as he leads her away, the laughter from the hatago following after her. “I wonder why they are there. Do they have better service than the honjin?”

Obi’s arm quivers against her back, and when she looks up, he’s smothering a laugh. “I wonder.”

The one he chooses is off the main thoroughfare, though not by far-- it’s a respectable establishment, tucked onto a side street, clean and well-lit. Its custom seems to be mainly merchants; none so well-off as to have silks or any expensive merchandise, but most of them have the alluring smell of spices coming from their packs, anise and saffron and others that must have sailed from the mainland. They fill the common room, but it is not overfull, and when she and Obi wind their way through the tables, no one spares her more than a cursory glance.

It’s a lively place too; both sake and laughter overflow as they seat themselves, her delicately on her knees with feet laid blessedly flat, and him cross-legged, like a ukiyo-e of a daimyo in repose. She puffs out her cheeks-- surely he doesn’t need to do this here, where there is no one to impress-- but a serving girl arrives before she can scold him, pouring him a cup of sake with effortless elegance.

“That is the very expression of temperance,” he tells the girl, and she lifts the jug away with a demure smile.

Shirayuki frowns, not liking the sick squeeze of her stomach. Owner of a sakehouse she might have been, raised under the bar, but she had never been this-- the sort of woman who received compliments on pouring instead of what she poured.

“We will be taking dinner as well,” he informs the girl, his voice strangely crisp, like--

Like Kino-san’s. Her eyes narrow, taking in how the serving girl curves closer to him, how he leans oh-so-subtly toward her.

“Will there be anything else, okyakusama?” the girl asks, eager, hands folded so gracefully around the ewer of wine.

Obi opens his mouth, corners already lifted slyly, but his gaze drifts over her shoulder, and he-- he stops, mouth gently clicking shut.

The girl frowns, the red of her lips making her pout more pronounced, more-- more sensual. Shirayuki had never painted herself; Oji-san had insisted that their sake could stand on its own, without women to sell it, and when the decision had passed to her, well--

There was a thin line between a woman in her position and a-- a yujo. She did well to leave as much space between them as she could, for men in their cups often let them blur. Still, a girl like this one might not have had to struggle so much to keep custom.

Shirayuki bites her cheek. A girl like this one might not have had somewhere to run when Raj’s men came for her either.

“Okyakusama?” The girl cocks her head, impatient.

“Ah,” Obi breathes, dragging his gaze away. “That is yet to be seen.”

The girl flushes behind her paint and nods, flouncing back toward where the purveyor stands, inquisitive. The man is probably eager to know if he’ll be out one girl tonight, when the guests turn down their beds.

Shirayuki darts a glance at Obi, mouth thin. Already his gaze is back over her shoulder, distant. “Already making arrangements for the night?”

“No,” he replies after a long moment, absent. “That can be handled when we go upstairs.”

She shifts on her knees, restless. “I thought you meant to be vigilant while we’re out on the road. No distractions.”

His eyes snap to her, brow furrowed and questioning, but his mouth twitches at the corners, settling into a self-deprecating smirk. “If I’ve learned anything today, ojou-san,” he hums, lifting his sake to his lips, “it’s that some distractions can’t be helped.”

Her shoulder jostles, the other serving girl passing a little too close. Ah, so that had been what he’d been looking at. Probably trying to choose which of them would provide his distraction for the night.

Her hands clench, nails leaving stinging crescents on her palm. Perhaps she should take Kino-san’s advice; she still had enough money to hire another samurai, though maybe not as richly. If Obi felt comfortable breaking his word when they could still see Mount Fuji over the water, who knows how he would feel about other promises when distractions were thin on the ground, and even she--

“How does your cousin feel?”

Shirayuki jolts, gaze snapping up to meet his. It’s warm on her, inquisitive, as lively as the lanterns above them.

“About your studies,” he clarifies, taking another sip from his cup.

She stares, heart pounding in her chest. Surely he couldn’t know that she had-- that she wasn’t-- “My...studies?”

He cocks his head, inquisitive. “You said you carried books for your studies. Earlier.”

Ah, yes, back at the stream. She’s just blurted the words out, trying to keep him from touching her bag, from feeling what was inside--

“Your cousin supports them?”

She blinks. Yes, her cousin. The cousin who exists and lives in Kyoto, richer than Kino a dozen times. That man. “Yes,” she manages. “He believes that a young woman is made better by expanding her mind.”

Obi stares, a brow raising in a dubious arch. She huffs, blowing out her cheeks. If this cousin is fictional, there’s no reason he can’t be fantastical as well. It’s not as if she said he turned into a dragon or said he was a humble cobbler with the ear of the emperor.

Shirayuki has a sinking suspicion Obi might believe those better.

“He thinks it makes a better wife,” she adds lamely, “for reasons.”

“Ah.” He nods. Of course, as long as it made a woman a better prospect for marriage, men would believe anything. “You have a lot of books for just that.”

“Oh, um, well.” She squirms, feet protesting beneath her. “I’m learning about medicine.”

Both his brows lift, one of them rucking up against his scar. “Medicine? Isn’t that-- oh, thank you,” he says as the serving girl places their dishes in front of them. “That will be all.”

With a frown, the girl minces away, sparing a disappointed glance back while Obi digs into the food in front of him, layering vegetables heavily over his rice.

“That’s from the foreigners, isn’t it? Rangaku?” At her alarmed glance, he clarifies, “Your medicine books. The foreigners write them.”

“Some,” she admits haltingly. “It’s not all Rangaku. They have a better understanding of the body, but their understanding of disease and chi...”

His attention drifts again, back over her shoulder. One of the serving girls is there, bent down to serve a table of merchants, and that’s-- that’s--

Quite enough, in her opinion. She stands with a huff, dusting off her yukata.

Obi’s gaze jerks back to her, his eyes pulsing wide as she wobbles on her feet. “Ojou-san? What--?”

“Since you are so concerned about your sleeping arrangements,” she starts, embarrassingly breathless, “I thought I would get out of your way.”

He stares, uncomprehending. “But dinner--”

“I’m not hun--”

Her feet are ungainly beneath her, swollen and aching from the day, and the moment she takes a step they give out beneath her. She hurtles toward the floor gracelessly, but before her knees can hit the tatami, she is caught, warm, worn cotton beneath her fingertips.

“Ojou-san,” Obi breathes, annoyed. “Wait a moment.”

With careful fingers, he pulls her scarf up to cover her hair, mouth a grim line. Once he’s done, he sets her back on her feet, hand still tightly gripping her elbow.

“Obi,” she gasps, leaning heavily on his arm. “I--”

“I think,” he says slowly, as if he’s tasting the words, “it’s time for us to go to bed, ojou-san.”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #samurai au #Get Up Eight #ans #i am not even gonna lie to you guys #this still hasn't covered the entirety of what I thought was going to be chapter 4 #i have to keep reminding myself that he literally saw her naked YESTERDAY #he's still SO SURE that he's going to be able to keep his rule #of not fooling around with the custom #ha ha #ha ha ha ha ha ha

17 notes · View notes

raisingsupergirl · 4 years

Text

When 2020 Hands You a Staycation, Make... Everything

My family was looking forward to our trip for months. My mom was going to take all of us to a beautiful cabin at Kentucky Lake. It would have been the first time we've all gone on a family vacation in literally decades. And man, did we need it. But, of course, we forgot to consider the 2020 factor. So, literally days before we were supposed to leave, the air conditioning went out in my truck, my grandma broke her hip, my grandma-in-law was diagnosed with a terminal illness (and passed away soon after), and my mom tested positive for COVID-19. And so, in a twist of fate that we all should have seen coming, our vacation turned into a staycation. And this is how mine went…

Like any respectable week stuck at home, my family's started with donuts. And the food just kept coming all week. It was my fault, really. I decided I'd play Master Chef, and so I cooked and I cooked and I cooked, from scratch. Fettuccine alfredo, sushi (x 2), all the grilled things (including my world famous ribs with homemade BBQ sauce), breakfast yummies, pizza (for my wife's birthday), and Sunday piña coladas. We can't forget the Sunday piña coladas. My family will back up my claim that it was all wonderful (even if my wife complained about all the weight she gained), but if I'm being honest, by the end, I was a little sick of cooking. Okay, a lot sick of cooking. And that unexpected side-effect was kind of the theme of my week.

Along with cooking, I kept the Martha Stewart Living dream alive by starting an elderberry tincture, bottling up some flavored alcohol I've been working on, cleaning my fish tanks, fixing my wife's shower, and spending three days power spraying All the Things—little honey-dos and creative projects to keep my mind and body busy, to make me feel like the week wasn't completely wasted. Unfortunately, that mentality royally backfired. You see, the thing about projects is that there's an endless supply of them. There's no finish line to the things that need doing. And once you start digging into the pile, you realize just how deep it is. And then you quickly realize how little time you have left to do them before you have to go back to work for another year. At least, that's what happened to me, which tinted every day with this little feeling of desperation, like I wasn't in control of my time, my work, or my life. And as I got further into the week, I started feeling a little worthless, like none of the things I was doing, had done up to that point, or would ever do again, meant a gosh darned thing. And that kind of thinking is a royal bummer when you're on vacation, let me tell ya.

By the final Sunday, it got to the point where I was sitting on my back porch with beautiful weather, good music, a colada in my hand, my amazing wife by my side, and my kids squealing in the kiddie pool, and all I could think about as I stared up at the fluffy, white clouds was, "Why do I feel so bad?" And then I felt bad for feeling bad. At that moment, my life was perfect. So why was I searching for more? Why did I feel like I hadn't done enough on my vacation—enough work, enough relaxing, enough memory making? I'd done my best all week to stay in the moment and be appreciative of my abundant blessings. But for some reason, it hadn't helped. I'd kept dreading my return to the "real world" despite a pretty stinkin' successful staycation. So what was it? What was bothering me about that perfect week? Well, I can be a little slow sometimes. The obvious often eludes me. Remember the first paragraph of this post? The one where all the bad things happened? Yeah, I guess I had tried to bury that reality instead of deal with it. And there ain't no amount of sushi or power spraying or piña coladas that can bury 2020.

It's strange that it took me going back to work on Monday to gain some real perspective. The thing I had been dreading was the very thing that saved me—that helped me appreciate everything about my previous week spent at home. Not because work was bad or hard. Quite the opposite, actually. My first day back was busy, I felt scatterbrained, and I was thoroughly exhausted when I got home. But it felt great. Getting back with my patients and co-workers, doing what I knew so well how to do, falling into a rhythm. It all helped remind me of who I am and what all I'd learned from my staycation (yes, I'm repeating that ridiculous word to annoy everyone who hates it). And, as it turns out, I learned quite a lot.

First off, I do actually love my job. I love helping people (even if they exhaust me). I love what I do and who I work with. I get burned out from time to time, but there's no other career I would rather do on a full-time basis. It offers a sense of fulfillment and stability that I've never appreciated until now (which has also given me a greater appreciation for all those people stuck at home in quarantine. I guess putting your life on hold isn't as amazing as it sounds…). Secondly, I love my family. There are some real memories from this past week that I'll never forget. Those lazy afternoons in the back yard with my wife while my kids played in their tiny pool. The mornings getting sunburned at my six-year-old's soccer games. The movie nights, laughs, and cuddles. Oh so many cuddles. Despite the craziness and heartache looming just outside our little pocket universe, my family and I really did make the most of it. Oh, and the last thing I learned? When making homemade pizza sauce, don't add baking soda to lower the acidity and then mix the resulting science experiment in a sealed blender. That is, unless you're looking to redo your kitchen.

On the bright side, my wife figured out what she wanted for her birthday—a new blender! That, my friends, is what you do when 2020 strikes. You make lemonade out of lemons. Sure, tragedy continues to weigh on our planet, our country, our society, and our families. Yes, my grandma's hip is still broken. Yes, my family lost a wonderful woman last week, and the world will always be just a little darker for that loss. Yes, the pandemic continues to rage. Yes, my county is second in the nation for active cases, which means full protective equipment and precautions at work every day. And yes, I'm going to have to pay a few hundred dollars to have my truck's air conditioner fixed. But you know what? My mom has been essentially symptom-free as she battles the Virus Which Shall Not Be Named. In fact, she's been out doing yard work. That's the epitome of making lemonade, folks. And this past Monday, on my wife's birthday, just when I was starting to feel bad that she hadn't had the special day that she so greatly deserved because I had to work and then drop off my truck at the repair shop, something kind of neat happened. The summer rain cleared away, and a promise revealed itself—a rainbow, tip to tail. God's reminder that he's watching over us. That there is always an end to the heartache. That no darkness lasts forever. And that, even in the midst of it all, there is beauty. There is laughter. There is hope.

So keep hoping, y'all. Better times are coming. It might get choppier before things start smoothing out. The school year and the winter are going to be challenging. But it won't be the end. "If you're going through hell, keep going," seems like wonderfully appropriate advice. So let's keep going, together. Let's remind each other what we're fighting for. Let's keep praying and taking extra time to help each other out. Showing kindness and patience when both seem to be in short supply. Oh, and remember, if you're thinking about ending it all by adding tomatoes and baking soda to a blender, just say no. Instead, maybe take a deep breath and power spray a smiley face into your sidewalk as a gentle reminder that it’ll all be okay.

#making lemonade #vacation 2020 #staycation 2020 #when 2020 strikes #covid-19 #corona virus #foodie #cooking from scratch #family #momblr #mumblr #dadblr

3 notes · View notes

pinetasticapple · 4 years

Text

What if we had known each other first and fallen in love second: The Evillustrator

Also on ao3 and ffnet !

"I can't believe you dragged me into watching the entire thing, twice!" Marinette bumped Adrien's shoulder right as they entered the school building "do you enjoy playing with my feelings Agreste? Do you?"

"To be fair, I did warn you."

"One cannot take the death of Maes Hughes twice!" she pinched his arm, grinning at his yelp "you are a monster who enjoy that pain."

"But his death was a vital point for the plot and the exploration of Mustang!" he shielded himself with his bag "and you loved it!"

"Hmm perhaps" Marinette crossed her arms "and I can see you doing puppy eyes at me to make you that Edward cosplay."

"Hey I am willing to pay every cent necessary if it means I can have that amazing cloak."

Marinette rolled her eyes but kept smiling as they walked to the science classroom.

Summer had come and gone way too fast for her pleasure but it had been fun to spend more nights of patrol and movie nights with Adrien.

It had been a stretch to hang with Alya and Nino out of the mask, given Adrien's impossibly tight schedule, but they had managed a few outings, so long Adrien's bodyguard was around. It didn't matter much as they had had fun at the park just chatting and playing around.

But the new school year had arrived and even if Marinette was somewhat disappointed she still had to deal with Chloe, who had become more obnoxious to deal with, at least she still had her friends around.

"Are you two rambling about another cartoon?" Alya raised her eyebrow at them once they reached the classroom, Marinette taking the seat next to her "you condone him way too much."

"He has a few good choices from time to time" Marinette smiled, ignoring Adrien's fake gasp of horror.

Their smiles quieted down once the teacher arrived, the entire classroom going silent as she started her lesson. Ms. Mendeleiev was strict and stern, and her class was quiet unless there were topic related questions, but Adrien happened to like them.

Even if sometimes they were interrupted by Ms. Mendeleiv ruthlessness at distracted students.

"Nathaniel!" they all heard the slam on the desk at the end of the classroom "what are you drawing?"

Oh, Marinette winced, trying to keep her vision ahead instead of giving into the curiosity of looking back. She had been there once, never tried again. But now that Nathaniel was the victim she couldn't help but to feel sorry for him and Ms. Mendeleiv's wrath.

Suddenly there was a gasp and Nathaniel tripped and fell in between the tables, his sketchbook flying out of his bag, only for it to be picked up by the least considerate person in the classroom.

"Ooh! Look Sabrina! It's him as a superhero" Chloe sneered while holding the sketchbook "and look who is saving, Marinette! He's so totally crushing on you."

Marinette felt her cheeks flush, from embarrassment or annoyance at Chloe she couldn't tell, but this was getting out of hand.

"Back to class then," Ms. Mendeleiv walked to the front of the classroom to continue on the physics lecture, the class going back to paying attention and taking notes.

"Alright, presentation groups," she turned around to face them and Marinette wanted so bad to protest against the idea. Why did teachers like to do group projects so much?

She listened as the teacher named groups of three, frowning when Alya got paired with Adrien and Nino.

"So lucky," she mumbled.

"And then, Sabrina, Chloe and Marinette."

Marinette felt the universe piling against her just for this.

"So unlucky," Alya patted her back.

"Miss? Can't you add her to another group?" Chloe asked "Sabrina and I work much better on our own."

'Sure you do' Marinette gritted her teeth.

"This is a group presentation not pairs, deal with it."

Marinette felt that message also thrown at her as the bell rang for free period. That would have been a good opportunity to work on said presentation but Marinette was so not dealing with it.

"It'll be ok" Adrien threw her a reassuring smile "Chloe is a handful but I know you got this."

"Then why don't you switch with me?" Marinette pouted "or you Alya?"

"Oh no, do not make me go through that," Alya patted her shoulder again "but hey we can have comfort pizza after it's done."

"Oh that would be good," she sighed "but go on, I'll go find…them."

Adrien gave her a reassuring squeeze and left the classroom, leaving Marinette to sigh and drag herself to the lockers where she would probably find those two.

And oh she was right as she stumbled on them talking, or more like Sabrina saying she and Marinette would do all the work.

Say what?

"Is everything ok?"

The next minutes were a test of patience for Marinette. Not only did she find out that Sabrina did all the work and Chloe did nothing, but that it was normal? What in the world was that kind of friendship?

"Sabrina," Marinette turned to her "Chloe is totally taking advantage of you, you don't have to do what she says, that's not how a real best friend acts!"

"And what would you know about best friends if you hadn't had one before? Or even worse, stealing them."

Marinette gritted her teeth.

"Friends are not objects Chloe,"

"Whatever," Chloe tossed her ponytail to a side "but Sabrina knows I'm her only friend, so she better does as I say because without me? She's nothing."

Marinette felt her blood boil, even as Chloe left them to get her hair done.

The nerve of that girl, she huffed as she grabbed her bag. She would get to work at home thank you very much.

"Marinette!"

Or not, she thought as she turned around to find Sabrina catching up to her.

"I can't believe you stood up to Chloe like that!" Sabrina hugged Marinette "it was so amazing!"

Marinette was at loss for words. She tried to smile back at Sabrina, only to end up roped into going to work to the library.

"This…is not how I imagined this day going at all," she sighed as she dragged her feet back to the library, noticing Tikki's small pats on her leg.

The next minutes weren't so bad on the other hand. Marinette found out that Sabrina was quite organized and had already started on dividing the project information for them to do equal parts of research.

Marinette grabbed a few books to get started, hoping this was not going to go downhill, only for her to eat up her words as she saw a fuming Chloe stomping her way towards their table. Well that was the shortest hair treatment ever.

And now she was a literal sandwich in between Chloe and Sabrina arguing. And hey she had never said the word slave, had she? And when had Chloe found time to go buy a new hat?

"You are trying to steal my friend from me, again, this time with homework."

Marinette actually blinked. Again? What did she mean again?

Her face must have been obvious to Chloe because she could tell the blonde's cheeks flushing as she crossed her arms and sneered, only to be attacked by hats falling on top of her.

Oh Marinette was glad an akuma was around to spare her the headache. The rest of the students flew the library as soon as a big hair dryer showed up to chase after Chloe, giving Marinette the chance to sneak behind a shelf to transform.

She jumped to the dryer that had cornered Chloe and yelled at her to run. The dryer was fighting against her, trying to throw her away like one of those mechanical bulls she had seen on tv.

"I got wind that you're being blown away by a hairy situation" she heard Chat's voice from one of the shelves.

On any other day she'd have been surprised by the three puns in one single sentence but today was not her day.

"Fewer puns, more action!" she yelled as she kept trying to reign in the dryer.

It took work and a few tumbled shelves but they managed to destroy it, only to find the akuma from above them running away after summoning a crystal wall to smack them both.

"Where did he go?"

"I don't know but he sure has a way of illustrating his point."

Ladybug groaned and stood up.

"Wow, was that one really bad or…?"

"Sorry Chat" she stood up "today is not my day."

"Ok so tone it down with the puns" he said "I guess we should go find Chloe…"

"Great" Ladybug frowned "more time with her, just what I need."

"Hey, she's not so bad- "Chat flinched at her stare "well, she didn't use to be this bad."

Ladybug pointed at the window for them to make their way to Chloe's hotel. It was also a good way to keep up the conversation without anyone else listening and piecing together the information.

"Look, I get it" Ladybug said once they reached the building in front of the hotel, her hands on her waist as she tried to calm down "she is your childhood friend and that is something special."

"Well she was my only friend back then," Chat added.

"But you have seen her at school now," she said "you have seen how she treats others and me, especially me, especially now that I think she hates me because we're friends."

"That's a little farfetched," Chat raised an eyebrow "I'm allowed to have more friends and she doesn't hate Nino either."

Ladybug deadpanned stared at him.

"She accused me of wanting to steal Sabrina from her," she pointed out "and said 'again' and now that I think about it, she probably meant you."

"Ah…" he rubbed his neck "yeah, Chloe can be a little possessive about it."

Ladybug sighed, this was not the time to have this type of conversation.

"I'll talk to her, as Adrien of course," he offered with a smile "I mean I might know a little of why she's like this now but it's not my place to say."

"Why are you such a noble guy" she gave him a small smile "but I believe you, now let's find out what has she done to be target of an akuma" she threw her yo-yo "again."

The interrogation was really going nowhere, Chat could tell from the lack of attention Chloe was giving them and Ladybug's rising annoyance.

He couldn't exactly blame her for that, he knew Chloe was well, a lot to handle but also that it wasn't a fair excuse to the situation. Chat sighed, feeling really stuck between the two girls. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of Chloe totally fangirling over Ladybug and how would she react if she knew it was Marinette behind the mask. Of course he was never going to say that but it did make him ponder on what he had heard ever since he started school.

And while he was a little afraid of what would happen, he knew deep inside he had to. He knew why Chloe was like that, but he also knew she didn't have to be.

"Ugh seriously? I'm over this!" Ladybug said, snapping his attention back to her "let's go!"

"Wow," he went after her "are you kidding? And what if the Evillustrator attacks her again?"

"Fine, you stay," she grumbled "but I just can't right now."

"Bug," he held her hand "maybe you need to chill a little first."

"Yeah," she groaned "I'll be back in a while, I promise."

"I know" he squeezed her hand "just, take some deep breaths,"

"Hm" she stood on the balcony and threw her yo-yo "later!"

Ladybug made her way back home, detransforming as soon as she landed on her bed.

"Argh!" she groaned and threw her bag, wincing when she heard Tikki's complaint.

"Hey!"

"Sorry Tikki it's just, Chloe she just agh!"

"Well simmer down" Tikki frowned "a hot head isn't going to get you anywhere,"

"It's hard to keep my cool" Marinette sighed "especially at school…oh no! Sabrina!"

Ah damn it, Marinette launched for her phone, wincing at the many missed calls she had from the red haired girl.

Ok, she could fix this. She could send a text, tell she ran because of the akuma –that was still on the loose- and figure out the next part from there, until she saw Tikki hiding under a cushion and her window disappearing like it had been erased from existence.

Marinette's day couldn't get any better as she was face to face with the Evillustrator who started to flatter her? Ok, that was something new to her. But it was until she got a card that the pieces clicked in her mind. Nathaniel was the Evillustrator. Oh, oh probably from the embarrassment of class.

"Ok," she sat back on her chaise "I think I know how to solve this out."

Chat looked out of the window, vigilant in case the akuma showed up and also thinking about the situation at hand. He couldn't of course talk to Chloe as Chat, what reason would he have to know what had happened?

"Oh Chat Noir?" he blinked as Chloe attached herself to him "are you any good at particle physics?"

"Oh this cat's got particle physics in the bag" Chat smiled. He could totally show off his strength for science beneath the mask. Next thing he knew he had Chloe's work on his lap for her to relax instead.

Ok, he was so going to talk to her after all of this is done.

It was lucky that Ladybug decided to call him and give him an opening to excuse himself out to the balcony.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, thanks Chat, sorry for leaving you stranded,"

"No sweat bug" he smiled "so are you coming back?"

"Actually no, found out about our victim, turns out he is sort of in love with me,"

Something felt funny in Chat's stomach. Huh, maybe he needed to eat something.

"So I kind of make him promise not to hurt Chloe unless I go to his birthday party."

"Ah, I see your master weaving of plans," he ignored Chloe's shoving of her papers at him "I'll meet you there then."

He waved a salute to Chloe and vaulted himself towards the bakery, just in time to see an upset Sabrina walking away.

"Do I need to save you from her claws as well?"

"Very funny" she flicked his bell "I should be working on the physics project instead but a promise is a promise so if we want to help Nathaniel I have to go to this date."

"Right," Chat twitched at the odd sensation in his stomach "say, before that, can I please have a pastry? My stomach is feeling empty I think."

Marinette sighed with a smile and went back inside to the bakery, appearing moments later with a chocolate filled croissant for him.

"Thanks b— Marinette," he stuffed the croissant in his mouth before he called her by a usual nickname "so you work on taking away his pencil and I'll do the rest."

"Sure thing Chat."

Chat went on his way to the rooftops close to the river, staking out as he saw the Evillustrator working on a quite romantic date setting.

His stomach felt iffy again. Ugh, maybe he needed to eat something better than just a pastry. But he would have to wait until after this was done. He watched closely as the purple silhouette showed up on the akuma's face.

'Huh, bet Hawkmoth is getting impatient' Chat thought as he watched what seemed to be a struggle of one person, only for it to stop as Marinette arrived.

Chat trusted her with his life, but whenever it involved risking their civilian selves well, Chat was a little dubious about it all. Not that he didn't trust her protecting herself but there was always something unexpected.

He jumped across rooftops when the boat started to move, making sure he was low enough to be hidden from sight until he got a chance to sneak to the back of the boat.

"I actually draw a little too, I'm not as good as you are of course," he heard Marinette say, as part of their plan to retrieve the pencil. He took a small step back, but the wood creaked enough for the akuma to notice his presence.

"Marinette, give me my pencil back, I need to draw something, now!" his tone was cold and Chat was close to just jumping on him to stop him from hurting Marinette.

"No, I'm keeping it, Chat Noir now!"

He launched his baton as Marinette jumped out of the way, pencil in her hand.

"I thought you liked me!" he sneered "but you really are just like Chloe, teasing me, mocking me, leading me on!"

'Wow, first of all when had that happened?' Chat thought as Marinette huffed offended at his words, only for both to get trapped by a crystal cube falling on top of them.

"Well that went well," Chat poked at the cube's end, blinking away the light from Marinette's transformation "you have another plan?"

"Yeah" Ladybug pointed at the ceiling and held on to him "now extend your stick vertically,"

"Oh, brilliant!" he held her close and did just that, both landing on the bridge as the boat sank on the river "so I think we should probably go save Chloe…"

"Hm," Ladybug sighed "am I really like her?"

"Well if I have to compare" Chat took a step away from her "you both sure are stubborn when you put your mind into something."

"Should I take that as a compliment?"

"Hey I did say I was going to talk with her after all of this is over" he waved his hands in self-defense "but now I gotta ask, did Nathaniel and Chloe ever…?"

Ladybug threw out her yo-yo to start moving towards the hotel, knowing Chat would be right by her side "yeah, before you arrived, they didn't date if that's what you think but let's just say the rejection lacked a lot of touch."

"Yeoch"

"Yeah, but let's go save her" she said once they reached the hotel room, just in time to see a giant high heel shoe chasing after her.

Ladybug swiped in first, breaking the heel of the drawing and spinning her yo-yo as a shield.

"Oops, broke your heel" she smiled "better watch your ankles."

"Don't want to get instep with us now, do you?" Chat twirled his baton, casting a glance at Ladybug who smiled at his joke.

The fight that ensued was a little higher in stakes with Evillustrator able to draw practically anything, soon having Chat hanging off a chunk of missing floor with a weigh pulling him down and his ring beeping the alert of detransformation.

"Lucky charm!" she yelled out as a small bouncy ball fell on her hand.

"Just try and stop me with that little lady!" the Evillustrator sneered, making his way towards Chat. Ladybug looked at her surroundings and smiled, her plan formulating as she threw it directly at one light, causing a chain reaction that destroyed all illumination sources from the room and allowing her to easily snap away the pencil that had the akuma.

She smiled as the magic washed all over the room, leaving it as if nothing had happened, and fist bumped with Chat.

"Well that's one thing solved" Ladybug said after they had left Nathaniel near his home "now I have to go fix my part of the project before Sabrina thinks I'm an evil person."

"Good luck" Chat smiled "see you tomorrow bug."

He waved at her and vaulted his way back to the hotel, detransforming before going in and up towards Chloe's room.

"Adrikins!" she jumped at him the moment she opened "oh it was a nightmare! A disaster I say!"

"What happened?" he feigned ignorance, as if he hadn't been few minutes ago in the room. He listened how Chloe overreacted and exaggerated the fight, trying his best not to pull a face at it until she was done. If he was going to do this, he had to do this right.

"Say Chloe," he said once she slumped herself on a chaise "you didn't have to call out Nathaniel like that at school."

Chloe raised an eyebrow at him.

"I mean; imagine how you would feel if someone were to do that to you."

"Adrikins please" she looked at her nails "no one would even dare to try and embarrass me."

"Then why do you?" he crossed his arms "why do you do it?"

Chloe remained silent, looking at her nails and deliberately ignoring him. That was fine, Adrien was patient, he could wait.

"Ugh!" she stomped a foot down "say something already!"

"I'm waiting for your answer Chloe" he merely said "why do you enjoy hurting them?"

"I don't enjoy ugh" she pushed her hair to a side "if I want to keep my place as the Queen, they have to know to respect me."

"Chloe" he sighed "we aren't a monarchy, and you and I both know this is not going to work for the real reason."

"Don't you mention her,"

"I am not" Adrien stood up and sat next to her "but Chloe, I know you since we were little kids, I was there when your first baby tooth fell" he ignored Chloe's frown "and you were there when I had mine fall off as well, you weren't this way back then nor when we are alone, so why act so different at school?"

"You don't get it Adrien," she huffed.

"Then help me get it" he tried again "I want to still be your friend Chloe, I really do, but just as you have Sabrina I have new friends too."

Chloe rolled her eyes "yeah, I am well aware of that."

"You still are my first friend; no one can take that away from us," he smiled "and I want my friends to get to know the real you, not the Chloe Bourgeois that wants to fill shoes she shouldn't."

Chloe looked to a side and Adrien knew he had got to her, at least a little. There were things both knew weren't good, what with his father's distancing and Chloe's own shadows to fight, but Adrien had hope. Faith was the last thing to fade and he still believed in Chloe.

"I have to go now" he stood up "I kind of sneaked my way here but, can I trust you to not throw my words away?"

"You are way too good Adrien" she looked at him "but I will…ugh, try a little."

"Thanks Chloe" he gave her a hug and left the room, transforming as soon as he was in an alley to rush back home.

The next day was proof that some of his words did resonate in Chloe, as he arrived to the locker room to find her discussing something with Marinette. He couldn't help but to sneak a little behind her locker to catch some of that conversation.

"This is my part of the presentation" she said "and Sabrina told me you sent yours late night,"

"Yeah I was held up helping but-"

"What matters" Chloe interrupted her "is that you did your part and I did mine, Sabrina,"

"Yes Chloe?"

"Make sure it is top notch for later so we can get a good grade, and you better not stutter during the presentation Marinette or you'll be sorry."

"Of course Chloe," Sabrina followed after her, Adrien noticing the small smile in Chloe's face as they walked to the classroom.

Marinette sighed and closed the door, only to yelp as she saw Adrien leaning against it.

"Don't do that!" she held her hand to her chest.

"Sorry, couldn't help it" he smiled "but hey, how did things work out?"

"Way better than I thought" Marinette yawned "at least there wasn't any screaming."

"Told you so" Adrien nudged her "think it'll last the day?"

"At least until Alya stops pestering her for an interview of what happened yesterday" Marinette smiled "shall we?"

Adrien smiled and walked with her to the classroom. He had a feeling things were going to change from now on.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction

6 notes · View notes

erineverly · 5 years

Note

“You have to tell me if pregnancy sex is as kinky as I’ve heard it is!” | lmaoo

❛ ☆ / MATERNITY MEMES / ( @thornrosed )

“oh, my goodness.” narrowing her eyes at the obnoxious redhead, erin lets out an annoyed huff while shaking her head. cornflower blues widening in surprise as confusion passes over her visage. she has no idea how she got wrapped up into a conversation about sex during pregnancy but she would happily pay any amount of money for the earth to just open up and swallow her, save her from all the embarrassment that is surely coming her way. she gathers her dark ringlets in one hand and gently pushes them over her shoulder, moving them out of her face so that she can study her husband’s features and determine whether or not he’s joking — even after so many years of knowing him, the model can never be sure what his true intentions are, especially in moments like this one. she shoots him a pointed look, doing her best to refrain from snickering ( because although disgusting, his words are still very much hilarious ). a faint smile returning involuntarily to her plump lips within a matter of seconds.

it’s a warm september night, the smell of summer ( sun combined with salt and delicate ocean breeze ) is still thick in the air. they’re sitting on the porch in her favorite rocking chair, snuggling and exchanging subtle acts of affection while bathing in the pale moonlight with midnight serenity surrounding them. slanted shadows of posts and railing dancing across the wooden floor. she feels so ridiculously peaceful and safe, on his lap, with his colorful arms wrapped protectively around her and her tiny, still very much invisible bump, that she begins to wonder if she’s dreaming. it’s definitely a nice change but a sudden one, something she’s learned not to trust … then again, it’s incredibly difficult to remain unmoved when every inch of her soul wants nothing more than to hold onto these precious moments and give their family ( because they’re finally a real FAMILY, it’s something that hasn’t fully dawned upon her yet ) another chance. she’s been thinking about giving up a lot lately, about walking away from axl, leaving this world of constant suffering and uncertainty. their relationship has always been a giant rollercoaster of ups and downs but lately the stress they’ve been under has been taking a serious toll on their marriage. it’s this baby and all the hormones swirling inside her bloodstream that make her even more indecisive, have her going back and forth on whether or not what they have is worth fighting for. she’s forcing herself to shake all these confusing thoughts off, worried they may ruin the moment — axl’s giving her a taste of their old life, of everything she used to love and she’s falling for all these beautiful ideas and promises.

“i … umm.” stuttering as she attempts to collect her thoughts and respond to his words in a fairly decent way, erin can’t help but turn into a bashful teenager. her cheeks are rosy, heart thudding erratically within the confines of her chest. she lifts her shoulders in a shy shrug and offers the redhead an awkward smile. her fingers are absently playing with his flaming locks, twirling the long strands and gently scratching his scalp. “i don’t know if it’s okay to … you know, make love while there’s a baby in there, in the first place ? so, if it happens, it’s probably not kinky at all ?” she figures, knowing very little about what’s safe and what’s not. obviously, she’s noticed some major changes in her moods lately ( all the cry fests and unexpected outbursts of anger ), had to push his hands away from her chest several times, but that’s all … or so she tells herself, unwilling to accept the fact that her body needs him even more. all these hormones are testing her patience but now that she knows there’s a human being inside her tummy, her mind is standing in the way and prevents her from giving into these strong desires. “but i have an appointment scheduled for tomorrow so if you want to go with me, not that you have to …” stumbling over her words, she doesn’t want to make him feel pressured but there’s a gleam of hope in her eyes because she would love to have him by her side. “well, maybe then you can ask my doctor what she thinks about that. where did you even hear that it’s supposed to be kinky, weirdo ?”

#thornrosed #AWW THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING THIS 😭😭💙💙 I LOVE IT SO SO SO SOOOO MUCH #i set it in september of 1990 in our main verse 🥺 like maybe she just told him they’re having a baby a few days ago 🥺#and they’re in their house in malibu 🥺🥺🥺#AND THEYRE HAVING THIS NASTY CONVERSATION BC THEY CANT SLEEP BC ALL THE EXCITEMENT AND OTHER FEELINGS 😂#SPOILING ME AND MAKING ME SCREAM #YOU DA BEST!#MADE MY DAY :')))#BYE ERIN IS SO UNEDUCATED LMBO #SOMEONE NEEDS TO HAVE A CONVO WITH HER @ HOW THINGS WORK SMH #☆┆ᴅᴏɴ·ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀʏ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ﹐ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ·s ᴀ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ ᴀʙᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴀʙʏ.┆( verse: 1990. )

2 notes · View notes

beauvoyr · 6 years

Text

My Friend, Mr Noctgar | 3

EPISODE III | vendetta

Pairings: Noctis/Reader vs Ravus/Reader Genre: Romance Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Alpha/Beta/Omega, no beta we die like men, Humour, Angst, Fluff, Size Kink, Size Difference, Short Reader, Self-Indulgent Characters: Older Noctis, Older Chocobros, 30-year-old Ravus Nox Fleuret, Ardyn Izunia, Aranea, Loqi Tummelt, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Homeless (?) Noctis Chapter Rating: T Crossposted on: ao3 Summary: Transferring from Gralea to Insomnia’s already hard enough for an Omega like you. Luckily your new friend Mr Noctgar, a homeless Alpha who’s always skulking around Sagefire, is there to brighten your dreary days ahead. And he’s always there to teach you the best spots in Insomnia, among other things.

“—which is why Ghorovas’ Rift is what it is today,” Noctgar ends his tale, flattening the top half of his vanilla soft serve with an agile tongue. At your wide-eyed stare, he swipes a few more licks to the cone, blunt fingernails absently scratching his scruff. “Told you Ifrit was an ass.”

“B-b-but that’s not what the Cosmogonies say?” you sputter, well aware that you sound like an utter imbecile for believing in half the garbage printed. Noctgar regards you with sympathetic understanding how a parent breaks to a child that Shiva Claus isn’t real, and you could only cover your burning cheeks by blaming the dastardly cunning ways of the Insomnian sun. “I mean—they should totally fire their writer for coming up with that fanfic-level stuff and—“

“I don’t get why they tried to make it romantic too,” Noctgar offers his thought, hacking off another solid chunk of vanilla with that sinful muscle of his. “Ifrit’s ego is the size of Ravatogh; unless he apologises to Shiva for messing up Solheim, I don’t think she’s going to lift the curse on Ghorovas. Of course,” his side-glance comes with a playful twinkle, “they tried to tone it down for the kids, I guess. No evil curses, just straight-up romance. Easier for them to digest that stuff.”

Serves you right for being such a gullible child, now Noctgar’s going to think you’re such a baby for believing in that load of junk. When you get back to Gralea, you’re putting up your limited edition copies on nBay. You’re so selling them. Bitterly, too bitterly, you mutter, “Should’ve known Shiva and Ifrit weren’t just Astrals immortalizing their love in Ghorovas. Ice and fire, duh, polar opposites. And polar opposites just don’t get along with each other.”

“Really?” Noctgar bites out a stifled chuckle, now nibbling around the rim of his cone. “Why’d you say that?”

“My superior, Ravus, is what I’d call my polar opposite. The Ghorovas’ Rift to my Leide Desert, if I’m trying to be poetic,” you answer as your thoughts turn to the flaxen-haired prince charming fairing from Tenebrae, substituting black chocobo and polished armour for a Bentley too big in a six-digit suit daily. “He’s a Sonnet 18 kind of guy that could quote ‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day’ right down to ‘So long lives this, and this gives life to thee’, and then there’s me, rapping Monster’s ‘You could be the King but watch the Queen conquer.’” You pause at the affable agreement from Noctgar, who’s taking it in with his cream-stained lips twisting into a smile. “See what I mean? We could totally work together but beyond that? Yeah, it’s the original version of Shiva and Ifrit right here, now that I stand corrected—”

The corners of Noctgar’s mouth twitch wider. “Your soft serve’s melting.”

—and you’re flailing at the way vanilla oozes down your flaccid cone, sticky fingers and a veiny trickle down the back of your hand. Any second later and it would’ve stained your cuff. “Oh sh—“ With no napkins left, you lapped at the mess in alternating waves of broad licks, the tip of your tongue erasing all whiteness. You transfer the soft serve to your free hand just so you could suck off all stickiness from your fingers, taking each digit into your mouth and releasing them with a salacious pop, glistening wet yet thankfully free from all stickiness. Thank Astrals for this good head on your shoulders. “There, saved.”

When you turn to Noctgar once more, proudly showing him your handiwork, it is indeed news to you that Noctgar is also susceptible to the ways of the Insomnian sun, despite having lived here for a while.

5.48 p.m. comes as a heady perfume of melancholy and lovesickness. It has Ravus jabbing the keyboard a bit too hard when the scent draws closer and closer, like the metaphorical smog wafting in those inane morning cartoons Luna enjoyed. He knows what this is. Clack, clack, clack goes his keyboard when click click click ends at his doorway, bringing forth a scent that corrupts all Alphas into beasts, a scent that has his jaw set taut, teeth clenched.

“Hey sir,” you chime, your handbag shouldered, eyes a starry concerto when you seek his. By the Gods, he hates that glassy sheen, especially the hint of your teeth hiding behind the pink of your lips. “I’m about to head back.”

So leave already, he wants to snarl.

Get out of my sight, he wants to growl.

“Very well, you may leave,” is what he says, ignoring your questing eyes in favour of the bulleted list he’s been typing since five. Seven pages in, charts and tables drawn, paragraphs elaborated and red-tabbed notes highlighting key points in the report, and yet it is still far from complete to him. From the looks of it, a few more hours will be a worthwhile investment in order to achieve the level of perfection he’s after.

Something must’ve crossed his face when he returned to his work, for your keen eyes are still riveted on him. “You’re…not going home?”

Fingers skating across the keys stop. Your innocent concern is a forgery most Omegas have mastered; a species designed to captivate and fascinate those around them, unhesitant to delve their fingers into the stickiest of pies, only to draw them back, licking and sucking off cherry-reddened digits one by one. Viciously coy to those they want to enrapture, cunningly demure to those they want to seduce, Omegas are disgusting creatures willingly spreading their legs for any and all Alphas to conquer. Once they’ve conquered the body, they will conquer the world. Such is the reality Ravus is acquainted with, considering the multitude of Omegas who have crossed his path and tried to make him theirs.

And you could be one of them.

Another one of them, seeking wealth and riches only a prince could satisfy.

Ravus skips over your gaze, knowing he’ll find nothing. Clack clack clack on his keyboard again, this time in a measured pace. “No.” By right, he could’ve left it at no and watch you leave his room with one of your feigned sympathy, but professionalism has a say over prejudice. Work is work, and you are but an Omega stationed under him. He keys in the last period and skims over the sentence twice more. “I am preparing an outline for tomorrow’s briefing, as we will be hosting a corporate event on C3 involving both CC and NT in the near future.”

“Ohhhh…” You’re nodding—which, in Ravus’ dictionary, is not a good sign. The moment you’re adjusting your shoulder strap absently, Ravus regrets every word leaving your mouth: “Anything I can do to help out?”

This is what he doesn’t need. Help. An excuse following an excuse, Omegas are good at conjuring a thousand and one more excuses to spend more time within the proximity of those they’re trying to capture; How low will they stoop? Low enough until they crawl, Ravus supposes. And crawling is what Omegas do best.

His words are clipped, underlined with brutal intent. “No. Leave.”

Unfortunately, you are dafter than most. Where others would scurry along and never look back at the sight of his darkening expression, your stupidity takes you places others wouldn’t dream of venturing. Now, you are waltzing into the territories of Ravus’ restraint with a quiet, “Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that, let me help you out.” Again, you are the obnoxious Omega pushing every button on the console as if to trigger his wrath, fond eyes juxtaposing narrowed ones. “The sooner we get this done, the faster you can go home, right? So let’s get to it.”

Foolish, selfish Omega.

Fingers lacing together, Ravus leans into his backrest, tipping his chin ever so slightly at the sight of the disobedient Omega toeing his doorway. What do you seek to gain from testing his patience? His affection? Hah, hardly. A one-night stand much like the cheap paperbacks Luna enjoyed? Never in his lifetime. Winning his attention? On the negative spectrum, you will. What about monetary expenses? Surely you’ll benefit from overtime, making the most of your meagre salary to support your luxurious lifestyle. Omegas and their petty needs of pretty collars for every outfit, polished nails done in salons, nauseating perfumes in crystal bottles—everything as an excuse to waste money. Ravus considers this train of thought twice more before he comes to a conclusion.

“You won’t be paid for your overtime,” he breathes his verdict.

It's a variable thrown into the mix for the sake of observing your reaction. If he’s right, he should be receiving the expected reaction right about—

You straighten up, nodding once. “Okay yep, bye.”

Click, click, click is the sound that follows, the very sound of victory proving his statement. Ravus smirks to himself, knowing he is not wrong and he will never be wrong. A typical Omega you are, lured by the lavish prospects of making more money through whatever means you could get. Laughable. Your desperation is disgusting and he detests your very presence. He should be very careful in deflecting any future advances from your end, knowing how adamant Omegas can be once they settle on a target to devour. You may have given up tonight, but you will return sooner or later. With that warning planted in his head, Ravus rests his fingers on his keyboard, gliding over them in ease.

Click, click, click is also the sound of defeat when you backtrack into his doorway again, flashing a cheeky grin that belongs only on primates in zoos. “Just kidding, sir, I’m not that heartless. Back in Gralea, Aranea used to stay back with the rest of the team when we worked on something. And because NTG was extra broke at one point because they keep siphoning the money to different politicians, I’m used to not getting paid by now.” You do a one-shoulder shrug, rattling about a paper bag. “As long as I can trade those OTs for credit leaves, I’m cool with that.”

Foolish, selfish, and annoying Omega.

If Ravus were a slighter man, his door would have answered your statement in seconds. However, he is the Prince of Tenebrae, and so he returns your imprudent gallantry with a frown. More minutes are wasted on entertaining your stupidity, minutes that Ravus could have spent on bettering his outline, minutes that Ravus would have clocked in at least two more pages to his text. Here you stand, awaiting his response, and here he sits, awaiting your departure.

No such luck.

Such trifling matters to be handled; yet it niggles his head all the same. He could only tear his eyes away from your unblinking stare, resuming his work once more. “…do whatever you want.” Yes, you could do whatever you want; after all, you may have won the fight, but you have yet to win the war. Ravus taps away at his keyboard, finding more satisfaction in punching in the alphabets than staring you down. “And while you’re at it, get me some coffee.”

“Great! I still have some bread from Sagefire this afternoon so we can totally share that.” You’re all but bouncing away as your voice drifts from a distance, filling in the click click click of your heels. “Gonna be in the pantry for a sec, ‘scuse me.”

He does not want any bread from Sagefire, not when Scientia owns it. But your return brings two mugs of coffee, setting them with noiseless experience of a waiter on his table. In a creamy caramel colour, Ravus glowers at the consistency of your coffee. “What’s this?”

“Coffee!” you cheer, rolling out a chair to make yourself comfortable as you unpack the paper bag to reveal an assortment of diabetes inducing treats on a ceramic platter. “And here’s some bread too—I totally recommend having their strawberry danish because it’s so good.”

With an upturned nose, Ravus angles his face away from your weak craft. “I only take mine black.”

Your head bobs rapidly like a storm-wrecked buoy, a certain light illuminating your face. “Well! More for me then!” The moment your offending hand begins its advance for his mug, he grits his teeth at your impudence and swats off the intruder. “Ow!” You rub the back of your reddening hand, pouting—Gods, the thing an Omega loves to do most, pouting. “Okay, okay, I get it, sheesh…I’ll make yours black next time.”

Ravus only hikes a brow at your impertinent words and merely answers your sulk with a sip.

It’s not black coffee, but at least you make a decent one for a screw-up.

2.39 a.m.

You could barely even control the yawn escaping your mouth, what more controlling your appearance in front of him. Two mugs, one rimmed in nude lip prints, both equally drained to the dregs. The back of your hand sports a smudge of brown and black, courtesy of an accidental rubbing of your eye to fight your sleep. Roughly thirty minutes earlier, you splashed cold water on your face, effectively erasing every last inch of powder on your haggard face. Only three days in and your superior is already treated to the sight of your bare face, no lipstick, no eyeliner, not even a cushion powder to fix up your appearance. That’s a record, considering how Aranea only saw your pillow face three months in when you first started; now Ravus has seen it all, and you think he’ll start seeing more the longer you work with him.

How could one thing escalate to another, a briefing outline on tomorrow’s meeting turning into an impromptu planning session for NTI’s charity event on C3 grounds anyway?

The answer?

Well, that’s work for you.

With another disgruntled yawn, you rub the bridge of your nose. Only, Ravus looks up from his copy of the document, pen paused. In his normal state, Ravus is considered crabby. Past midnight, stuck here for hours and hours on end with you, he’s the crabbiest ever. You could only manage an apologetic sigh, hoping you don’t add on to his irritation. “Sorry, Ravus…I’m just extra tired lately.”

“Aren’t we all?” is his acerbic response, utterly lacking sympathy.

You don’t expect him to properly channel human emotions since he appears to be a counterpart of Andronicus, but he least he could do is to understand where you’re coming from. You click your pen close, setting it parallel to your lipstick-ridden mug. “Emphasise on the extra tired, sir.” Your lips twitch at his merciless dour. “I didn’t even get to unpack my stuffs yet. So many boxes and so many things are missing in my new apartment. Hooks, locks, curtains, sheets, pillows, everything. I can’t use the stove because I haven’t bought induction pans yet, I haven’t hanged my clothes in the closet because I don’t have time to iron everything, I need to call the landlord to call the plumber to fix the heater because it’s already broken by the time I moved in—Shiva, the best I have is the bed because it’s the only thing I managed to set up. Just throw on my scarf and bundle my sweater and boom, that’s my bedsheet and pillow.”

Of course, you hadn’t intended to shoot him with your rant but it is what it is. While your problems are your own, and a prince wouldn’t necessarily come equipped with generous understanding of how hard moving from one place to another while being dead broke can be, your mild outburst is intended as a plea for him to remove his feet from his fancy, hard leather oxfords for once and slip on your ratty morning office slippers instead. If you had all the money in the world, hiring people to furbish your rented apartment would be as easy as waving your black card on the scanner, go to work in Louboutins while riding a Maserati, and come back to a five-star chef having prepared fresh fish air-flown from Altissia for your dinner. All of that is easily within Ravus’ command if he desires, but you? You’re just an Omega making a measly 3.8k a month and a good chunk of that money is going to your rent, meals, supporting your parents back in Gralea, and public transportation fees.

However, for the strangest moment, Ravus is silent.

When it comes to your sporadic verbal machine gun going rat-tat-tat-tat for a conversation, Ravus keeps to himself most of the time—or downright ignores it. Granted, he could’ve unloaded a scathing bazooka of, “Silence, vermin,” on you, or a derisive variant of, “You asinine whelp,” on your sorry ass just to keep you silenced once more. But this time, there is none of that. Ravus leans into his seat, briskly capping his fountain pen closed. Heterochromatic eyes are back on you again, appraising your paltry worth under fluorescent tubes. Being probed by a man like him, wholly, unabashedly, with lips set in a thin line and eyebrows furrowed, everything just burns an uncomfortable bonfire in your tummy.

‘Oh gods, just stop staring already,’ you internally shake your hands skywards, begging the Astrals on your knees to spare you because Ravus can’t seriously be doing this now.

Your blouse is rumpled from all the active moving you’ve been doing throughout the day, you’re sure you’re shitfaced because your makeup is gone, nada, zilch—and the worst part is, he’s not even saying anything about it! Not even a degrading remark! Comparing your dishevelled self to him, his three-piece suit still remains impeccable even if it had been hours since his arrival at office, his face is a marble statue of cool composure an Alpha commands, and he does not look haggard (unlike you, you weak ass Omega). The longer he stares, the more you feel your cheeks burning with the intensity of a wildfire scorching Leiden desert.

Heck, anyone and everyone getting picked to pieces by a hot guy would probably feel the same way too, just that said hot guy happens to be the punishing Prince of Tenebrae.

And said Prince of Tenebrae so happens to be your superior.

Three seconds later, the Alpha comes to a decision. “Let us stop here for now.”

That’s so unexpected until you blink at the surprise. Did that sympathetic node in his brain finally function?

Apparently, Ravus isn’t finished with his train of thought. “I find that working when one is demotivated is akin to pushing a dead mule. Ineffective and inefficient.” And, for the slightest moment, the edges of his lips curl. “Like you.”

—so maybe you were too hasty in your conclusion.

If it were up to your fighting spirit, you would’ve spat fire in his face, fuelled by your fatigue and fury from his relentless barrage of insults. But, Gods above, this guy’s your superior and you’re going to be stuck with him for a long, long time. It’s only been three days, three days! Biggs and Wedge once tested your patience with repeated pranking in office and you only snapped after finding your car painted in Post-its after the second month. Just because this goddamn Prince of Tenebrae doesn’t understand the hardships a broke ass Omega needs to endure in a new environment, it doesn’t mean he should be getting under your skin this easily—and that doesn’t mean you should jeopardise your sole work source of income thanks to him.

Because, hey, this isn’t a girly manga where the main character quarrels with a filthy hot, fucking rich dude and winds up in a twisted relationship with the man, yeah?

Yeah, so let’s roll with that.

You stomach his insults in hopes you’d digest his assholery and turn it into diarrhoea by tomorrow morning. At least you made some progress into his work and you can’t say you shirked out your duty as a senior exec. The smile on your face is positively simpering. “Thanks, Ravus, I really appreciate it.”

Translation: Go fuck yourself.

Swiftly withdrawing all papers and clutter from his desk to be stuffed into a folder, taking off the mugs and dumping them in the sink for washing tomorrow morning, you return to his room to grab both your handbag and work bag, slinging them over your shoulder once more. In a couple more hours you’d be back in this dreaded place again, enduring yet another hellish torture from 8.00 a.m. to 7 p.m. and you can’t say you’re looking forward to it. A glance to your wristwatch tells you it’s 3.04 a.m. and you’ve got only four hours of sleep maximum if you’re looking to arrive at work on time, but the bigger problem here is this:

“What the fuck.” You blink at your wristwatch’s guiltless face. Then turned to Ravus’ cocked eyebrow at your uncharacteristic cuss. “Sorry about that. I missed the last train.”

If possible, Ravus’ eyebrow climbs higher. One day, you’ll ask him the secret to his condescending eyebrow ascension, but not today. Not when you’re stranded here with nary a cheap cab to haul your pathetic ass home. ‘Great job, (y/n), great job. You done fucked up now.’

The curled edges to Ravus’ lips are still there when he questions, “And where do you live?”

“Somewhere on the – uh,” you squint at the foggy memory of sienna walls and bricked roads, vivid playground and a kindergarten nearby, “I think it’s called Kore? Not sure where that is.” Considering it’s only been four days since you landed in Insomnia, it’s a miracle your overworked brain could recall a fragment of the location. “But it’s got a kindergarten and some swings and it’s a pretty cheap and quiet neighbourhood kind of thing—safe, hopefully.”

“That’s quite some distance from here,” he hums. “I suppose you walk to the train daily then?”

Chatty, isn’t he? You shift your weight on the other foot, rubbing your nape as your head sifts through possibilities of Moogling up a 24-Hour cab service and risk getting conned for thousands of Credits, or grab Uber instead and risk getting into a car with a potentially frisky Alpha. The choices are clearly endless. “Well, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. If I stay close to NTI, I’m gonna be even more broke than I am now. Need to make the best of my pay.” Not that it changes anything in your current situation; you probably should start thinking of alternatives now. Cab it is. “Yeah, anyway, I gotta go now. Gonna call a cab, ‘nite.”

Granite and amethyst are sharply narrowed your way once again, this time with an ever-familiar scowl. “Don’t be asinine—“

You sigh. ‘Yep, there it is, he’s gonna chew me out again for my life decisions. Stay out of my life, dad, I’m an adult.’

“—I’ll send you home,” Ravus finishes, already striding past your stunned figure to switch off the lights to his office. “Come along now, we don’t have all day.”

Your head whips around so fast you could’ve risked cracking your neck.

Holy shit. Did you hear that right?

Is your life really starting to turn into that girly manga route where the cold bastard finally takes an interest in the protagonist and the protagonist falls helplessly in love with him and it culminates into—‘Okay, no, calm down, self, calm down. It’s just Ravus being a sensible guy—he’s a human being and he’s got to have some sort of kind bone in him somewhere. Don’t overthink this and don’t end up making it more awkward than it already is. Ifrit and Shiva, Ifrit and Shiva, gotta remember that.’

That’s your pep talk for the day, but your traitorous heart’s palpitating loud enough for your eardrums to beat along. Tugging your bags closer as you tailed Ravus on your way out, you crane your neck to look up at him in gratitude. Because, seriously, all girly manga clichés aside, he’s the real MVP for wanting to send you back home. “Thanks, Ravus, seriously. I really appreciate this.” And no, not a hint of sarcasm this time. For real. “Seriously seriously. Thanks man.”

Ravus allows himself a sidelong glance at your expectant gaze, almost haughty in his disdain. “If you were to be murdered, I will end up losing more manpower in this office. I simply cannot let that happen.”

Or so he says, yet as your shoulders sag at his incriminating statement, half-lidded eyes are lingering far too long on you.

It is rare occasion for one to find oneself riding his car. It is rarer occasion for one to ride with him twice in a single lifetime.

Strangely, you defy all norms with your brutish pig-headedness, barrelling past all barricades he’s strategically set up to deter those coming his way. Riding in his car twice, and having the gall to fall asleep at that. Foolhardy, insolent, never quick to rise to the baits he dangled right under your nose. There should be a specific category for people like you, those who teeter along the fine line dividing the charlatan and the frank, though he can’t quite find a box befitting your nature. At most, you rebuffed his mockery with a snide smile, knowing your place underneath him, playing by the unspoken political hierarchy in the office.

Chancing a glance at his side rewards him with a vexing view of your lolling head. Shoulders softly rising and falling in tune with your breathing, guiltless in your slumber. Never once stirring from your sleep, hands politely folded over your thighs, both bags sitting by your feet. Street lamps flashing over your skin hardly bothers you, though Ravus supposes sloths are heavy sleepers. While it is indeed a blessing that you are silent for once, it is also infuriating that you dared to sleep in his presence, rendering him akin to your personal driver. An incredibly incensing thought, one that almost makes him want to shake you awake just to see your disgruntled face upon being rudely woken up.

The sooner he deposits you, the better.

A finger to the blinker, he smoothly swerves left and exits the highway.

Stalagmite skyscrapers gradually disappear from the distance, consumed by the miles separating them from the heart of Insomnia as Ravus drives on. Kore, miles from the heart of Insomnia, is a suburb for the penniless. Unfortunately, it’s one of Luna’s favourite spots for her charity charades, or what Ravus thinks it is. Visiting orphanages with trolleys of toys and wheeling around gap-toothed children in wheelchairs, her actions earned the love of locals easily. A gentle beauty who is no stranger to TV shows and radio podcasts, his gentle sister preaches to the masses. What Ravus saw as cunningly crafted manipulation of the media to bolster Niflheim’s extensive efforts in positive politics, Luna would wage a war with words against him—or what she calls pessimistic derision.

Whatever it may be, Ravus isn’t keen on correcting her altruism at the expense of their familial ties; as long as she’s safe, their views may continue to differ, so long as it contributes to the same cause.

His foot eases off the gas pedal as the traffic lights transition from amber to red. The quiet outskirts of the city are obviously dead at this hour with no cars whirring across the road. Waiting for a full minute at the intersection when he’s all alone would’ve sounded ridiculous to many, but rules are not meant to be broken. At the inopportune moment presenting itself, Ravus chances another glimpse at your visage, catching your head still lolling softly as though you are headbanging in your dreams. The sight of your unashamed barefaced slumber whisks an irritation he deems it can be solved once he swats you awake.

Foolish, selfish, annoying, and audacious Omega.

As though the traffic lights sensed his malicious intent, they immediately popped green.

Thus, Ravus is thwarted for the night.

Much later on, miles and miles away from the junction, stopping by the cracked sidewalk leading up to a rundown two-storey apartment with an exposed stairwell and walls as thin as a single brick, he watches as you stumble out of his ride with half a heel worn and the other stuck somewhere underneath the seat. You yawn open-mouthed when you’ve fished the abominable needle-heeled shoe from ruining his ride, slurring a sleepy good night with that idiotic slant slacking your lips to reveal a hint of teeth in a coy smile.

Shutting his door, you totter off into the distance as darkness warps your body until you are no more.

Ravus stares at nothing.

And then he leaves.

8.35 a.m.

Oh shit.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

You’re speed-walking through the thronging crowd at four oh shits per second, in which an interspersed oh fuck gives you an extra boost when you glance at your wristwatch. You are so dead—oh, you wish you were already dead because at least you don’t have to step into office and get physically dismembered by your boss. While you would’ve preferred your phone to be pinging nonstop with a barrage of assaulting messages from Ravus, the eerie silence speaks volumes for your current situation. Nothing’s scarier when a boss says nothing about your tardiness—in which it’s already a code red for your life.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” you chant to the crowded escalator as your heart goes oh shit, oh shit, oh shit in tandem, pushing past the slow-motion bystanders—or are you actually on fast-forward? No matter, same difference, just that you need to get the hell out of the station to run to your office.

Emerging from the subway, your heart’s pumping like you’re about to undergo a cardiac arrest as you reorientate yourself with your surroundings. In the distance, NTI gleams like a silver stake ready to be spiked through your body. Just imagining the things Ravus would do to you the moment you step past the office doors gets you doubting yourself for a second there longer—oh Astrals, would it be better if you just stop by a Starbucks somewhere and tender your resignation to HR via email just so you’d spare yourself? Or would it be better if you just hightail it back home and never show up until they just terminate you? Either way, anything sounds like a good choice—far better than going in there unarmed against your boss.

With a nervous twitch, you withdraw your phone to check the notifications.

Nothing.

Not even an insult?

Or even something vaguely derogatory?

Good gods, you’re really done for, aren’t you?

All because you decided to spend your OT in office with him until three in the morning.

‘If anything, he should be grateful to me because I helped him out,’ you huffily try to justify should ragnarok come hurling home. Stuffing your phone once more, it is with a heavy heart and heavier feet that you drag yourself to your office, slowing down to one and a half oh shit at a time. ‘But then again, it’s not like I was helping out much. He got his shit together while I was sitting there like a moron watching him work.’

As a senior executive, whatever your boss tasked you with, you were supposed to execute it with the aid of fellow execs under you. Growing into this new role of yours gets challenging without a guiding hand showing you the ropes—you suppose all you could do is to imitate whatever Aranea had done and replicate it in your own unique way. Just like yesterday, when experience poured from the tip of Ravus’ fountain pen whilst he scribbled ideas on a scrap of paper. Planning charity events requires budgeting; that much you knew from your years with Aranea. NTG had to ration their budget expenditure spread over a financial year and NTI isn’t any different—except, NTI had a wealth of money at their expense, apparently. Ravus had kindly set aside close to a hundred thousand for media buys pertaining to social media ads, and that’s not even including billboards and traditional media. You had dumbly stared at the 1.5 million Credits parked under production costs as you mentally contrasted it with NTG’s measly 30k—to which the prince haughtily declared, “Did you think this will be just like Gralea?”

As snotty as he sounded, you couldn’t admit yes.

The scale of the events NTI organized shouldn’t be a surprise to you; Ravus had shown you that whatever NTG did, NTI would execute it on a grander note. That’s because it’s not for Niflheim anymore; it’ll be the talk of the kingdom if NT scrimped out on their political campaign by delivering less than what is expected. None of them would like to lose face in front of the king, would they? From the guest lists to the caterers, he shared his thoughts and views on contracted vendors and agencies that would be setting up the event site. Coordinating their locations, standardizing the colours, ensuring all corporate identities are prominently displayed via buntings, it’s almost everything you’ve ever done in NTG amplified threefold. With every snip of his tongue lashing, you are forced to reorganize your bearings and fulfil his wishes according to his ideals.

It’s overwhelming. Exhausting. Demanding.

Yet, as you think about your boss’ solemn profile as he worked tirelessly through the night, it pops a funny little bubble in your tummy.

Ravus Nox Fleuret is a pain in the ass, sure, but at least he taught you something.

And how are you supposed to support him as a senior exec if you’re going to get fired today? Well, better get your feet moving faster than one oh shit at a time if you still want a job by tomorrow.

Picking up your speed, you allow the ocean of humans to suck you into waves. Everywhere you looked, the morning zombies of Insomnia were in the same state: Dragging their feet to their workplaces. You can’t say you’re proud to be one of them, especially when your body’s in a state of disarray. That lack of sleep manifests by way of a throbbing headache and tunnel vision as you weave through the crowd, making your way to the stab of silver in the distance. Except, along the way, you didn’t expect a familiarly antique scent to come sidling up your strides.

“Hey, morning,” Noctgar offers a rumbling greeting, scruff twitching along his words.

What could possibly improve your disastrous morning to be better? None other than your favourite homeless Alpha, that’s who.

In all honesty, you wanted to slow down and have a good chat with him before you head to your funeral—but it’s not easy being the star of your own beheading, so you can’t really show up late. Flashing him your most genuine smile, you keep an even pace. And it certainly helps when you’re short, for you would never wind up outpacing him.

“G’morning, Noctgar! So sorry I can’t stop and chat, I actually shouldn’t be alive right now!” you chirp. At his stunned silence welcoming your shocking statement, you laugh a little. “Just kidding—well,” you sober up at the reality of the situation, “half kidding. I’m just really late right now, so I’m trying to make the most of my last moments on Eos before my boss decides how he wants me done today. Grilled, charbroiled, steamed, everything on the menu is possible.”

Even with the bustling Insomnians talking in dissonant murmurs, Noctgar’s low whistle couldn't be missed. “Sounds rough, I’m sorry to hear that, old friend. Take care.”

“Take care!?” you squeak your disbelief, chortling at the way Noctgar’s ever-expressive eyes twinkle with mischief when he knows you hadn’t missed out on the joke. “Such support, much wow. Wait ‘til you receive my e-invite for my funeral today, free lunch provided.”

Noctgar chuckles at your dark humour, easily sidestepping a passing Beta before rejoining your side like velcro. “Yeah, wouldn’t miss out on free lunch. Hope he cooks you good.”

“Me too,” you lightly punch him in the bicep as he returns his revenge by messing up your hair, trading blows.

Somewhere down the street, Starbuck’s open doors wafted bitter notes of coffee among the herd of creamy Omegas, subtle Betas, and masculine Alphas. Cabbies and Ubers are honking at the building traffic, tyres screeching on asphalt. Just like this, it feels good to have someone with you. Walking together through the slow drift of chilly breeze, making jokes over your misfortune when the going gets tough.

Noctgar’s the same as ever, dressed in a humble jacket, hands pocketed in drab jeans. Still looking like he hadn’t a decent night’s sleep, always in need for a good shaver and mirror. Who knows what he’s doing out here anyway? Insomnia’s probably his turf, so it makes sense why he’d just pop up near the subway by accident if he had been napping nearby—and boy, it’s an excellent accident to happen first thing in the morning. Alas, all good things have to come to an end, marked by the way NTI’s glass lobby looms all too soon into view with lively Techies swarming in by the second.

You instinctively slow down, turning to your Alpha friend with a grimace. “Well, we’ve come to the end of the line.”

“Any last words?” Noctgar teases, leaning back with his head tilted aside.

It takes you a moment to search the Merriam-Webster Dictionary preinstalled in your brain when the image just assaults you like this. With creamy light spilling over pale skin, the wild arrangement of tousled hair, sharp Alpha characteristics of a defined jawline following a cocky, self-assured smirk; yeah, this homeless friend of yours is definitely something, why didn’t you realize it earlier? With a little snip of his scruff, a tidying of his locks, and some fitting garment, Astrals, you could’ve transformed him into a model! Or at least you could do a joint venture where you could pitch his existence to modelling agencies as his self-appointed manager and rake in thousands by the end of the month—

—yeah, too bad you have to die today.

“Eh, well,” you do an unenthused shrug, already accepting your inevitable death at the hands of your boss because no amount of active imagination could spare you from Ravus, “thanks for being a pal, Noctgar. You made my short stay in Insomnia a luxury vacation, really. Five stars on TripAdvisor as best tour guide.”

At this, Noctgar’s lips twist oddly—like absent fondness and Something More™, but who knows what Something More™ could mean when you obviously won’t live long enough to find out. “I’ll make sure they bury you with your phone so that you can still text me an invite in the coffin. Can’t miss out free lunch and five stars on TripAdvisor.”

How morbidly charming. You really like this guy. Holding out a fist, you flash him the kind of smile when Brave Legends Go Off To Meet Their Impending Demise. “See you on the other side, pal.”

Noctgar only returns your brofist with unwavering confidence. “Yeah, see you.”

As you heroically march right up the entrance sans epic background music, too lost in the moment where the highlight reel of your life is on playback before your eyes, you’ve most certainly missed out a blurry reflection of Noctgar withdrawing a cellphone from his back pocket, snapping a picture of you.

“Ah, Your Highness, to what do I owe this pleasure of a phone call while I’m in the middle of a meeting with my board members, who are coincidentally very peeved at this ongoing interruption?”

“Sorry, not sorry. Do you wanna owe me something real quick?”

“An intriguing offer! Go on, I’m listening.”

“Great. There’s this girl, (y/n), coming up from NTI’s lobby now. She’s new, Omega, black collar, and reports to Ravus—I’ll send you her pic in a sec. Think you can see that bastard and make up some excuse on why she’s late?”

“Pray tell, what benefits will I reap from this ad hoc liaison?”

“I knew you’d say that.”

“Debt is the slavery of the free, after all.”

“…fine, I’ll go to that damn charity event on C3.”

“What an intriguing offer indeed.”

NOTES:

Thanks for all the support during my absence! Going through a bit of a rough patch in life at the moment, but I'll try my darnest best to keep writing and keep updating! ❤ Stay safe everyone, stay hydrated, and may 2019 go well for all of you!

THE TRAGEDY CONTINUES: Great. Great, great, great, great great great, just great. The way you punched in the fullstop a bit too hard resounds like a bullet through metal before you rise to your feet, already feeling cold sweat collecting under your boobs. Because fuck sweating profusely through your armpits when that’s too mainstream, since the way you’ll get fired is already premium with how Ravus stands before his room like a headmaster catching his students sniffing glue in the school’s backyard. As if things can’t get any worse, everyone within vicinity are pretending they’re focused on their work—but you catch their sneaky eyes hovering above iMacs, ears subtly angled Ravus’ way. Absolutely fabulous, it’s barely your first week here and you’ve already fucked up ten ways up Ravus’ ass, and judging from how hairy things are getting, you suspect he hasn’t shaved his crack for a long, long time.

(Or maybe he’s never shaved at all.)

(But you haven’t considered if he’s naturally hairless, did you?)

#noctis x reader #noctis/reader #Noctis Lucis Caelum #final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv fanfic #ffxv #older noctis #mr noctgar #fanfic #ravus/reader #ravus x reader #i can't believe i forgot to update this here #i'm completely trash #mr noctgar is such a huge thing for me and i forgot about it #smh raon #hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!#and ravus too!

43 notes · View notes

symbolicpeace · 5 years

Text

A reminder that Toshi canonically writes very formal letters:

“Greetings,

The air’s warm here; feels like summer is just around the corner. Hope this letter finds you well, sir, in good health and even better spirits.

This semester I took a position as teacher at UA high school– that’s right, now guiding the next generation of heroes. I was hoping of finding someone worthy of inheriting my power among the elite students of the school. A hero in training with outstanding test scores and a powerful quirk.

However, before I ever began my tenure at UA I met a young man. Even though he was weak and had no quirk of his own, he showed incredible bravery. He rushed into a dangerous situation that even caused pro heroes –including myself– to hesitate, and managed to save the life of a classmate. He may not have had a plan when he acted, but he knew he had to do something.

I feel like watching this young man spring into action taught me something that day. It reminded me of the virtues I must embody in order to call myself a pro– a hero. That’s why I mean it when I said to him: young man, you too can become a hero. Soon after that I told this pupil the secret of my quirk, this secret that I have that has been passed on from person to person, cultivated and made stronger, the crystallization of power that binds itself to a courageous heart, for the good of those in need: One for All.

He accepted without hesitation, and I trained him to overcome the trials he needed to overcome to be accepted into the hero course at UA high school. Even though he sometimes struggles with his newfound abilities he never stopped fighting, giving 100% as he tried to harness One for All. I don’t like to toot my own horn, but I believe I found the perfect person to pass my quirk onto. He’s shown me time and again he’s got what it takes to be a real hero.

I’m still quite new to the role of instructor; a day may come where I must trouble you, my old teacher, for advice. I’ll be counting on your wisdom and patience when the time comes.

Until then please take care of yourself as the seasons begin to change. I’ll continue to keep you updated about what’s happening,

sincerely yours--”

#!!! IT'S THE LITTLE THINGS ( minor headcanons )#this is my primary source for the headcanon of toshi writing handwritten old fashioned letters to ppl #does anyone else even remember this happened lol

1 note · View note

tcbefree · 6 years

Photo

tw : missing persons, death, murder, kidnapping, hydra ment, nazism ment

ryan : this week on buzzfeed unsolved, we’re covering the disappearance of skylar mccoy, a case for a girl that still continues to this day!

shane : this ... this is a big one.

ryan : yeah, this one really freaks me out, honestly. it’s ... it’s ―

shane : not fun.

ryan : that’s one way to say it. i’m ― not, uh, stoked about it. i remember, y’know, hearing about it, when she first went missing.

shane : yeah ... it was, like, a breakfast conversation thing.

ryan : a six year old disappearing is a breakfast conversation thing to you???

shane : like, in my house! my mom used it as a reason for me to, like, always answer my phone and come in at curfew and stuff. ‘ be careful cos even famous little rich girls can go missing, shane ! ‘

ryan : that’s what your mom sounds like?

shane : well, yeah. it’s ― she’s a mom. mom voice.

ryan : so, some background. skylar mccoy was one of half a twin pair born to doctor henry mccoy, born in his lab, actually. he made them through an... extremely intricate experiment that we’re going to glance over.

shane : what a fucking genius, that dude!

ryan : he’s ― yeah, absolutely. i was looking him up while doing this, the man has, like, six phds!

shane : holy shit! six! he’s giving stark a run for his money! six phds, oh my god. i can’t even, like, make a ... uh, what’re those dna things called from high school ?? put-it squares ??

ryan : punnett squares i think.

shane : yeah, that!

ryan : but, yeah, born to a total genius. she was a famous kid, one of many, i guess. for her name at first, but growing up it was slowly becoming obvious that the little girl was a total genius. read at a fourth grade level, writing electron configurations, monitoring mutations, the like! and became pretty famous for just being a cool little kid.

shane : isn’t there, like, some famous photo of her and big daddy hank in his lab or something ???

ryan : big... big daddy hank... anyway! in the afternoon on july 30th, 1996, skylar mccoy went missing from her home in upstate new york. hank mccoy called police after finding out she wasn’t in their home. when they used scent to track her, they came upon a field, but the trail abruptly ended. it is assumed that it is there that skylar, who was six at the time, was last before disappearing.

shane : whoa, whoa, hold up! a field? since ... what!

ryan : it’s, y’know, not commonly known, but it’s worth noting. she was a ... an icarian kid, y’know. like, she was prone to wonder. they thought, at first, she just walked off.

shane : an icarian kid! have ― there’s still footage of her growling at someone! she was, like, four! she was a little firecracker!

ryan : she was a genius!

shane : still a little shit! i mean, god rest her soul and all

ryan : she’s not dead

shane : isn’t it presumed dead after, like, seven years ??? it’s been eleven. and she was just a kid ― if i got lost at six years old, i’d be eaten by the coyotes!

ryan : * sigh * we’ll... we’ll get into that later. back to what i was saying ... the hours before her disappearance are well documented. there were many people in the house ; workers, fellow researchers, and family members. skylar ate breakfast at eight am and was in her room playing with her twin until around ten am.

shane : oh, god, the twin, i forgot about the twin. fuck, this is so messed up. god, is that kid, like, alright? like, are they, like, fine? this is ― ryan, can we not do this? this is, god.

ryan : she’s fine. alive and well. shane, everyone was requesting this.

shane : but ... this is so fucked up. what if she, like, comes back and sees this???

ryan : you just said she’s probably dead!

shane : i’m sorry, skylar

ryan : you test my patience. but, yeah. at around ten, skylar asked her father, dr henry mccoy, to go play outside in their yard, something she often did. he allowed her but said to be back by lunch. he noted her outfit, which was just converse and a sundress.

shane : what kind of six year old wears converse???

ryan : rich ones, probably

shane : good point ... good point.

ryan : she went to the yard. the last person that’s thought to have seen her is her twin, margot, who went with her but came in shortly after to play inside. they discovered she was missing when she didn’t come in for lunch. after skylar’s disappearance, margot admitted to knowing that skylar often left the estate and went to the field that the search team was led to, further evidence that she was taken from that location.

shane : a field??? that’s ― what kinda kid is just going to a field??

ryan : well, remember, she’s beast’s kid, got the whole giddup with it.

shane : the fangs! i remember the fangs!

ryan : yeah, so, like, the general thought was that she just liked nature or whatever, ‘cause she was so animalistic.

shane : the smartest little wolf ― ape?? what are they anyway??

ryan : i think apes. or something. but, let’s get into the theories, of which we have three for today. the first one is the current theory is one of the most popular, and of course, an obvious. it’s that skylar wandered into the woods and subsequently died.

shane : i mean, like, that’s fair, and all, isn’t it ?? she ... yeah.

ryan : doesn’t mean it tastes good.

shane : tastes good??

ryan : like, going down.

shane : ohhh. yeah.

ryan : well, the field was pretty near to the woods. the reasoning behind her going to the woods was the same reason that she was in the field, that it was a natural place that she wanted to be. the theory is that she wandered into the woods, lost her way, and subsequently died. it was summer and hot, and even if she did eat, which is possible considering her... animal qualities,

shane : you’re saying she ate... bunny ??? coyote ??? what ???

ryan : it’s not. crazy or anything. she’s a little, y’know, ape-wolf. it’d be ... instinct or whatever.

shane : instinct or not, that’s gross.

ryan : but, yeah, back to it. there wasn’t any water that was a viable source. but, let me disprove this theory.

shane : oh, here we go

ryan : to start, her scent ended in the field, and didn’t continue into the woods, which if she had just naturally walked to it, it would have. following her disappearances, people went on organized walks and searches everywhere in the area, and nothing was found. not a single sign that skylar had ever been there.

shane : so... it’s bullshit, then?

ryan : basically. this is what led to the case gaining even more attention, because it narrowed it down until only one viable and reasonable possibility could be made, that skylar mccoy did not wander off, she was taken.

shane : yikes!

ryan : yikes is an understatement. that being said, let’s get into the second theory, which is that skylar was kidnapped. she was alone and, though reports vary about her actual strength, only six years old, and reasonably defenseless. there are many a person who could have done this, however. hank mccoy is an active member of the x-men, and the enemies of the x-men are so numerous they’re practically unlistable.

shane : that’s what happens when you save lives!

ryan : and destroy stuff all the time.

shane : do you have beef with the x-men, ryan?

ryan : no, i’m just saying !! and, y’know, team magneto, and stuff.

shane : magneto was right!

ryan : but, yeah, there’s so many people that could’ve taken skylar. enemies of the x-men, anti-mutant supremacists, some people even thought it might be, like, hydra,

shane : hydra!! like, heil hydra ??? like, the nazis ???

ryan : it’s not that far off! they’re mission is, y’know, chaos, and chaos it was when everyone found out about skylar. and with that, they’re reach is so far we don’t even know where it’s at. they infiltrated shield! shield!

shane : but, like, nazis, man.

ryan : well, skylar’s asian ― korean, i think.

shane : god, fuck hydra. fuck.

ryan : that’s an understatement. but, this brings me to my third and final theory,

shane : this ― this is going to be like, aliens, isn’t it? ?? with how you present theories ??

ryan : aliens are real, shane!!!!!! we’ve been over this!!!!!! it’s not a far-off theory!!!

shane : god, i’m just saying. don’t shoot the messenger. so you’re telling me it’s not aliens??? this theory ISN’T aliens??

ryan : well...

shane : goddamit

ryan : third theory is that skylar mccoy was abducted. there wasn’t any trace of her left, and her scent just ended in the spot, which is notably weird. there were even ufo reports that night in nyc, so. and she was entirely alone, as well. a field is, really, a staple of aliens, even though it was a field of flowers and not of corn.

shane : doesn’t make this not dumb

ryan : and, of course, skylar hasn’t been seen since. there’s been a bunch of reports all over, but nothing confirmed or nothing that has led anywhere.

shane : wasn’t there that, like, viral picture of that dirty girl in japan, or whatever???

ryan : yeah, but not confirmed. and japan is... pretty far and all

shane : but it did look like her! with the ears and stuff

ryan : well, yeah. but nothing confirmed. but, either way, the search for skylar mccoy goes on today, year after year, and for her and her family’s behalf, i hope that it’s one day unravelled!

shane : find her! stop her from eating those bunnies!

ryan : but until then, this case remains unsolved.

#* ━━ ◤ ᴺᴱⱽᴱᴿ ᵀᴿᵁˢᵀ ᴬ ˢᵁᴿⱽᴵⱽᴼᴿ / isms . ◢#TGSU SUS FCIT #THIS IS FUCKING THE FUNIEST THING #IVE EVER DONE

7 notes · View notes

shachathabrah · 6 years

Text

“Starfetched. I get it. Like starcrossed and farfetched. Which I guess is kinda what most people hooking up are.”

The angel stood in a small clearing, naked and half-naked trees reaching into a yawning canopy above him. A warm sunlight trickled through what leaves remained, interrupted intermittently by a cool, wispy breeze. He’d never heard of this part of the Nevernever before, nor the reigning high Sidhe - though upon looking around for more than a minute, it became abundantly clear that Edea was the queen of the short-lived, often chilly, midseason court. The ruling fae of Autumn. Wild.

“Both destined to be, and unlikely so. To be Starfetched is entirely an act of fate. To imagine that anyone could find someone they are truly meant to be with, crossing hundreds of miles or oceans or traversing the many realms to do so… It is truly something.” She was taller than Cath - then again, most were - and, like most in this realm, possessed an unnatural, almost feline-like grace. Her hair spun in spirals down to the small of her back, bits of leaves and other natural debris arranged in it more artfully than one might expect.

Cath nodded slowly in reply. “Yeah, it really is. Something. But it’s why I’m here. I’m requesting a… what should I call it. A reading? I couldn’t translate some of the writings on the process. I wanna get the deets on my relationship with him. We’re ready to take it to the next level.”

“It would appear as though you have already taken to the idea without our influence,” she mused, lips the colour of dead Autumn leaves curling ever so slightly at their corners, gesturing at his left hand. Cath knew at once she was motioning towards the ring Kay had given him. Well, the troll certainly had gotten his wish of wanting anyone that saw it to think ‘Wow, that fellow sure is engaged.’ Hastily, the angel clenched his fist, slicing the air in a ‘cut the shit’ motion with his other hand.

“You know as well as I do what it means.” Anger swelled, a sour taste on his tongue. “Like I’d be able to set foot inside a house of worship without being smited where I stood.” The determination in his expression faltered. “...Smited? Smote? Is ‘smote’ a word?” His bitterness melted into momentary confusion, his penchant for getting sidetracked brought out in full force by the general hazy and confuddling atmosphere of the Nevernever. Edea only giggled, shoulders bouncing, curled locks of fire engine red hair spilling over her shoulders as she did so.

“But your mind has been made up,” she offered, gliding closer to him. “The pair of you are set to be wed by any means, what ever would a reading tell you that you don’t already know?”

To this, Cath’s stance dropped; his shoulders lowering as he thought about it. Really, not much. He’d had his fears worked over by Kay often enough to be sure about this, assured beyond all shadow of a doubt that this was what they wanted. But… Beyond… all shadow of a doubt…? He chewed his lip gently, eyes never leaving the shifting pools of weathered copper the fae watched him through. “If I’m right. We’re - if we’re right. For each other, I guess.” Showing any kind of weakness before a fae was generally a really stupid idea, but he couldn’t - Cath had to be sure. If the powers in his life that ruled over most everything he knew and believed could give him some firm insight, he was hoping the last of the dying embers of doubt would grow cold, and just let him enjoy what had been gifted to him. This life, this love. He had to be sure.

“I’ve read it can do that. Prove that what we have is… Is worthy of being joined as one. It isn’t the same as being married, but it’s the closest thing something like me is gonna be able to get.” He did his best to recall up the notes he’d taken, not wanting to deface Daud’s book. (Even though he deserved to have a few dicks drawn in it. The motherfucker.) “And if I pass the test, we’re allowed the ceremony.”

In his heart, he knew Kay deserved more. Always the wedding planner, never the star. But the fae could put on one hell of a shindig, and maybe, lost in the beauty that the fae (despite being treacherous, nasty, vile, nasty, evil creatures) could produce, he might forgive Cath for being unable to give him what he truly deserved. “And,” he began again, lifting his chin once more, sticking out his chest just a little bit, “it’s the one thing you’re not allowed to bargain for. This is a freebie to those that seek it.” Knowledge was something powerful to the fae, something they had in spades, and they were never ones to give it freely. The Starfetched reading, however, was different. It was something the fae themselves had personal interest in, and it was how lore of married fae couples came to be. Humans, most of the time, had a very basic understanding of the bond magical beings shared - simply put, Titania and Oberon were married. No convoluted reading or ceremony required. It was beyond what patience they had to look beyond the label to find out what was really going on there.

He almost expected Edea to give him lip over it, but instead those lips stretched into a leonine grin. “You are correct,” she acquiesced with a bow of her head. “We are not required nor encouraged to seek payment for this service.” Though her eyes glittered as her head lifted again. “It is taxing enough on those who experience it.”

The angel swallowed. He hadn’t taken into consideration the reading might be dangerous in some way. Hell, it might kill him. The book hadn’t talked about the risks involved, it had only outlined the basic practice. Fae were nigh indestructible, save a severe allergy to cold iron. Reflexively, he touched the heart-shaped ring of his collar. Pseudo outsiders, however… Well. Shit. Kay couldn’t get hitched to a quivering pile of ectoplasmic goo, or a lump of smouldering feathers. But Cath was determined to see it through. “This will be the first time anyone of your ilk has attempted this reading.” There was almost something savage in her tone, though he could not place it. “Should you survive it, I daresay having witnessed it would be payment enough.”

Scared of fae as he was, Cath was not one to give into intimidation tactics. “Then you’ll have witnessed something no other fae has seen, yeah. So, let’s get to it. Enough chat. I hate being here and I gotta say I’m not too keen on you either.” The fae’s look took on a bit more ice, but the smile didn’t fade. “And for some reason you’re the only one in this dump that can do it.” He tilted his head a little. “Why?” Generally, fae didn’t give knowledge without something in return, but they sure did love talking about themselves.

“As seasons change, the summer and winter courts are at a mutual weakness. For a very brief period of time, I am in power. That power also happens to coincide with Samhain. The spirit world and the mortal world brush closest, and the barriers wear thin. Who better to deal with matters of the spirit, soul, and heart than someone in my position?” Said with no small amount of smugness, Cath noted. She certainly seemed to be more than willing to toot her own horn. But he had to give her some credit, no one else would ever really consider the fact of a smaller court in the fae realm. Hell, this was all news to him. But her logic was frustratingly sound. Not like he was jumping out of his skin to talk to the other ladies or queens about this, or anything, either. He liked them right where they were. None the wiser. Though he was sure that once this was completed, word would travel fast. There was nothing he could do about that.

“...Have you ever been in love, Edea?” The angel asked suddenly, his own voice taking on a tone much softer than he’d had initially, losing much of the edge and normal vitriol reserved for this place. “I mean like. The real thing.”

That seemed to strike some kind of chord, and the fae queen glanced away momentarily. “While it is not irregular for us here in the Nevernever to find ourselves in such a situation, It has never happened to myself.” She sounded… Sad, almost. Far be it from Cath to actually feel sympathy or pity for things that existed here, but he found his brows knitting gently.

“It’s because no one can do this for you, isn’t it.” He shifted his weight uneasily as the realization came to him. “No one can perform this rite, this.. seance, this ceremony for you. So you can’t even know if what you feel, if you’ve ever felt anything, can be considered true.” A little ‘huh’ sound left him. “That sucks a big fat one for you.”

Whatever he was expecting from her, it was not a laugh - one neither filled with anger nor malice, or anything negative directed towards him. It was still sharp and all edges, but it was a genuine laugh. “You’ve picked up quite the colourful tongue from living amongst humans, dear Shachath. It is no wonder that love has ailed you so.”

His face screwed up a little at that. Ailed him, huh. There may have been a reason it was called ‘lovesick’. He hadn’t considered it until now. He’d done a lot of things for this love. Faced some of his greatest fears, even, without even thinking of being repaid for his actions. He’d just done them, just like that, because doing it would help someone he loved. Very dearly, at that. Someone he’d do anything for.

Very, very briefly, he wondered if Edea - or the Sidhe in general, had people they knew like that. Their very state of being operated on a different level entirely, but Titania and Oberon were together. He was at least reasonably certain other creatures of the Nevernever could court and find love, too. But how far did their affections stretch? He found he could just as easily imagine Titania waxing poetic about her husband as he could imagine her ripping his throat out over a something as tame as what to have for dinner. But then again, as he’d learned, even the faerie queens were mortal once.

“Maybe it has ailed me. I dunno. But… I do know that I want it to work out. And your little ritual thingy will tell me if it can.”

“Child, no matter what the reading tells you, you’re going to keep doing what you’re doing anyway.” Her tone chided him slightly, though she made no further presses to dissuade him.

“You’re fucking right I am.” Reading tea leaves or tossing sand in a circle could tell him no more than what he felt in his heart. Even if it told him they weren’t… Starfetched, they weren’t soulmates, they weren’t some other form of word that essentially meant they belonged together, right now, they did. They were together right now, and however long it lasted was all that mattered to him. Even if it did scare him a little. He’d spent so long feeling temporary, just a placeholder for the next iteration of him to come along. Many, many versions of himself had come and gone. 26 - almost 27, now - years strong in this form had him… Antsy. He knew it was highly unlikely he’d go anywhere this time, but that ever-present fear lingered. Had he changed enough to be good for this? Had he changed at all?

And then there was still the whole fact that he might not survive the reading. Knowledge was a powerful thing, especially to the fae. It was probably their most valuable asset, and their strongest bargaining chip. Knowledge could make or break someone. Topple cities. End civilizations. Maybe, just maybe, his pathetic little human slash bird brain just wasn’t equipped to handle what vast knowledge Edea was going to forcefully shove into it. Maybe he’d survive. Maybe it’d drive him mad. Maybe that danger was the real reason the service was “free”. Nothing was free. He knew better than that.

Yet here he was.

For a long few minutes Edea regarded him with little more than amused boredom, watching the angel process things. His choice was obvious, even to him - though he didn’t want to seem all too eager to jump into bed with her. Metaphorically speaking. Eventually he nodded, sighing, letting his arms drop to his sides. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s do it.”

Almost instantly, complete and total darkness engulfed him, and he let out a startled cry - stumbling on nothing and falling flat on his ass with a hard thud. It wasn’t uncommon knowledge that he hated complete darkness, though through his scrambled thoughts he couldn’t think of any reason why she’d be doing this to him. It set his heart racing, and it was only moments after that he felt an icy vice grip on his arm. Another sound left him as four pinpricks of pain blossomed from his bicep, sending a numbing chill through him. An instant later he was dizzy, struggling to free himself as the dimness around him faded - like a lone fluorescent bulb slowly bathing a room as it warmed up.

“The fuck,” he managed, free arm coming to support himself on the ground, eyes adjusting. The forest was exactly as it had been moments ago, and Edea herself was standing a few feet away. Her look suggested that of watching a child tucker itself out through a tantrum, and to fit the bill Cath scowled at her. “What the fuck was that for?” Eyes raked around again for some sort of answer, and he realized that it was perhaps an enchantment to blind him momentarily, rather than bathe everything in darkness. Which, of course, scared him more than anything: Edea hadn’t said a word, or made any move to do so. She’d simply willed him blind and it had happened. He quietly filed her under yet another ‘Fae to not fuck with’.

“It is very foolish of you to think that just because you are here to partake in this that you can handle it as you are,” she upbraided, removing a number of things he couldn’t quite focus on from somewhere behind a tree stump. “To put it simply, I’ve drugged you. An altered consciousness is required to… partake in this. I know you don’t use your brain quite so often, Shachath, but unlocking some extra rooms among those grey matter folds is necessary.” She tutted then, shaking her head. “Humans are so unfortunate.”

He really couldn’t argue, all things considered. Humans were unfortunate, and he had read something at some point about brain functionality being limited in a completely sober state. But this wasn’t like any drug he’d ever been on before. He mostly just felt dizzy, awake and sleepy all at the same time, like he was straining to focus on something that may or may not have been there. “So you had to scare the shit out of me first?”

“Blood flow quickens with the pulse, does it not? At least that is what I’m led to believe.” She sounded uncertain for a moment, and Cath had to wonder, briefly, what exactly made up the biology of a fae. But even still, he rolled his eyes and grunted in annoyance.

“Couldn’t you just have dropped a porn mag in my lap or something?”

At that, he actually got a scowl from Edea. “Ezra Shachath,” she began in a tone meant to deride children, “and you’re here to prove your love, too.”

Unable to help his uneasy grin, it faded quickly with a sigh. So, she’d made him blind to drug him, and scared the shit out of him to make it quick. He really didn’t like where this was heading, but it was probably a decent testament to her character that she hadn’t done anything else to him. For now. That could change in an instant.

Edea continued gathering her things, Cath watching in dazed silence as the forest spun gently around him. He counted his lucky stars that the drug he’d been given wasn’t doing much more than making him acutely aware of everything around him… It could have been a lot worse. And he’d bet dollars to donuts it wasn’t just some piddly human drug, either. Fae shit was dangerous. Strong. The stuff he made was comparable but at least it wasn’t ever considered deadly.

A figurative age passed by before Edea had settled in front of him, kneeling at a shallow table she’d set up between them. A large, completely smooth stone about the size of a post card but oval shaped sat on a what looked to be something like a dinner plate. The notion made him giggle, suddenly and uncontrollably, rocking back on his hands as the sound turned into a belly laugh. “It’s like. It’s like. You’re serving it up to me. Where’s the knife and fork? Lemme just cut a slice.” He didn’t see Edea roll her eyes, but he could practically hear it, and it only made him laugh harder.

When his laughter finally subsided, he sighed, wiping tears from his eyes. Hoo. Okay. He was calm. He could focus. Which he did. To the best of his abilities. Several stones had been placed around the plate (teehee), varying colours and sizes, all seeming important while appearing innocuous at the same time. She held her hands, palm up, an inch or so above the table, looking at him almost expectantly. “Your hands, Shachath.”

He hesitated, but eventually laid his own hands on hers with his palms down. It made him twitch, feeling the connection between them link suddenly. Some part of him knew that was just the drugs, but another part swore up and down it was fae magic bullshit. “Okay. Not what?” Impatient. High on fae drugs. He wanted to get this done and go.

“Close your eyes and focus on the stone before you in your mind. Take in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and count to ten.”

When he opened his eyes, he was greeted to being assaulted on every front and every sense with… everything. He could see so much, almost too much - he understood what Edea meant about needing to unlock more of his brain very suddenly. It was as if he was watching a hundred, thousand, impossibly more than that movies at once. All of them showing him Kay, and himself.

But things were… different. In one of the visions, they were meeting by chance, one of them having missed a train. The vision culminated to them in a coffee shop some time later, confessing their feelings. In another, Cath was a private investigator trying to prove Kay innocent of a crime. Unsurprisingly, they fell in love. In another still, the angel, merely a human here, was the lone cause of a zombie apocalypse, and Kay was the only person immune to his deadly influence.

There were too many to keep track of, but somehow he managed to watch them all, all at once, from start to finish. Cath sang karaoke. Kay was a prince, and Cath his knight. In one they were both angels. In most, they ended up hooking up in one way or another, happy and in love. For every one time they didn’t, a dozen other scenarios came up to soothe the heartbreak Cath felt in their instances. It was surreal. It was bizarre. It was almost too much to handle and the meek part of his bird brain that had squawked ‘It must be the drugs!!’ was saying the same thing again here. Unbeknownst to him, his nose had started to bleed, and he was breathing fairly heavily. Though his brain dutifully ignored the peasantry that was his semi-mortal body, plodding on with the task it had been given by the fae. He couldn’t stop watching. He wasn’t even sure he’d blinked in the past however long it had been. Every vision he saw was simultaneously over in an instant and took an eternity to complete.

It was a nightmare. It was hell.

It was so, so beautiful.

He didn’t remember collapsing, or how long it had been since the reading had started. His recollections were choppy at best, of Edea picking him up and sliding the stone into his hoodie pocket, now an almost impossibly deep shade of black. The forest around them seemed to melt as his consciousness slipped, mumbling incongruously to no one as darkness aggressively swamped his vision.

The home Edea found herself in was exactly that - a home. She felt a significant portion of her power dissolve as she crossed through the Way just to deliver the fallen angel back peacefully, though it bothered her little. She’d traced his origin point rather simply, and felt it maybe necessary to chide him at a later date for making himself so easy to find. At the bedside, she noted the sleeping figure already occupying the large bed. That… must be the one this had all been for. Fascinating. He seemed quite normal from this vantage, far more normal than someone she’d peg Shachath to be interested in. He always seemed so… Flighty, for lack of a better term. Not the kind to settle down in any sense of the word. Hum.

Silently, she placed the KO’d fallen onto the bed, moving to lower herself to a sit next to the other sleeping figure. He seemed strange, from this angle; like nothing she’d seen before. Maybe he wasn’t as normal as she’d initially thought. Though her curiosity got the better of her - a hand gently reached out, placing itself on his forehead (between horns, no less) and closing her eyes.

In an instant, she was standing no more than four feet from him, looking around and taking inventory of the sight.

“Well,” she said, tone loud enough to hear but not loud enough to disrupt, “this certainly isn’t what I’d been expecting.”

#drabble;#long post;#very long post;#sorry mobile users #i meant to post this last week but forgot

3 notes · View notes