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johnkrrasinski · 4 years ago

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𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞

Chapter 3: Balancing on Breaking Branches

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Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers (in future chapters) x Reader

Word Count: 3,521

Summary: Steve Rogers; a Hollywood A-lister and your clandestine occasional hookup. Best friends since childhood, but people change and friendships fall out. Now you were merely strangers with benefits. What happens when one day you stopped being his doormat to be a better man’s queen? The selfish Steve Rogers would not like it. How far is he willing to go to get his favorite possession back?

Warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, dark Steve (in later chapter), angst, Steve Rogers is an asshole in this one, no redeeming qualities. (MUST BE 18+)

A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @belovedcherry who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for being a friend when i truly needed it. i’m really glad that you trusted me to write this story for you. with all my heart, i sincerely hope you like it. this series will be updated every day.

The day after the party, you were ready for your first class as a freshman in college. Everything went smooth, your professors were nice. There was one who spoke monotonously like he was mumbling, but you survived. Steve was the last thing that crossed your mind but you couldn’t help but replay the look on his face when Natasha threw a drink at him over and over again. You smiled to yourself every time you recalled it; amid of a class, during lunch breaks, in the library and when you returned to your dorm.

Natasha was currently out on a date with the guy she danced at a party last night. Clint, if you’re not misremembering it. You were lounging on your bed with a Sci-Fi book in your hands. You loved casual nights like this; today was the first day so you didn’t have to worry about assignments, projects or tests demanding for your attention. You could just enjoy the scarce school nights where you could just chill with your preferred novel or show.

You were so engulfed in your daydream that a knock on the door jolted you. You certainly weren’t expecting any guest at this hour and it was too early for Natasha to return from her date. Perhaps it didn’t go well or the guy was a birdbrain that Natasha just got up and left? In the past one week you had known Natasha, you knew that it was undoubtedly something Natasha would do.

So you walked toward the door and opened it. What jarred you was the person staring back on the other side.

“…Steve?”

“Hey, y/n.” A placid tone in his voice echoed.

“What…. What are you…? How did you…?”

“Cat got your tongue?”

You chuckled. “No, it’s just- I wasn’t expecting anybody tonight.”

“So you would any other night?”

“No! I- I mean, having guests is not common for me. Are you sure you’re in the right place?”

“0809B?” He quickly verified the numbering on the door.

“Yes, yes it’s me. But… what are you doing here?” Five years ago if Steve had come over to your place, he wouldn’t even need to bother to knock. But now, it felt like a foreigner was standing at your door; uninvited and unannounced. Inculcating himself on your fortified township that didn’t have his name on the list of inhabitants.

“Thought I’d say hi. It’s been a while.” He said it so carelessly as if it wasn’t your brittle heart that was on the verge of a cliff, a waft away from hitting the ground and crash.

“How did you know where my dorm is?”

“Got my sources all over the campus.” He welcomed himself in without even asking for your permission. You being the pushover you characteristically were, stepping aside immediately as a bit of his arm brushed your shoulder.

“So… where is your scary redhead roommate?” he paced around the room, his broad figure making the moderate unit feels even more cramped.

“She’s on a date.”

Steve scoffed, “good luck to that guy.” His eyes darted all over the chattels before he flumped conveniently on your bed. “This one’s yours, right? I wouldn’t want your roommate to throw more drinks at me for messing up her sheet.”

“Yeah, it’s mine.” you folded your hands on your chest, trying to shield yourself from the unaddressed tension in the room. “Listen, I’m sorry about last night… at the party.” you loaded the silence in the room.

Steve smirked. “What are you sorry for, doll? Wasn’t you who made me go home with wet clothes, was it?”

“I know but, I’m just sorry. I don’t know why she did that, well, I mean I did know, I just didn’t know why she thought it was okay and I really did try to stop her but-” you rambled, feeling even more repentant than before. All the contentment that gradually cultivated since yesterday was extinguished when his cerulean blue eyes fixated themselves on you as he stood from the bed and approached you.

Without a single warning, Steve slammed his lips onto yours, knocking the lungs out of your breath as you nearly stumbled on your feet. And then, it was like the time stopped ticking and the scene was in slow motion. The only things that reverberated in your ears were your laboured breathing and the quickening pace of your heartbeat.

What was happening? Your mind was scattered all over the place by one sweep of his lips and you couldn’t patch the pieces of the phenomenon.

All you knew was that you wanted more… You needed more. It was everything you had ever yearned and perished for. You craved him deep in your bones and he infused himself in your blood, long before you even realized it. And you let him, you’d cut open your flesh, just to have a crumb of his love.

He licked your bottom lip to ask you to grant him entry and you permitted. He tangled his tongue with yours and he explored your mouth. You couldn’t help but emit a whimper to what he was doing to you. His hands around your neck keeping you in place.

“I know you want me, baby… You want me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Steve. I do.” you were so breathless, you practically whispered the words.

“Say it. Say that you desperately want me.”

“I desperately want you, Steve. Please…” you didn’t know what you were actually pleading for but you were too mesmerized by his touch and his body so close to yours. You would do, say and be anything he wanted you at that moment. You’d give it away without a second thought.

“Such a sweet girl. You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” he taunted you. The truth is, he always knew you had fond feelings for him but he never planned to reciprocate those feelings. He always viewed you as someone who was once his best friend, and when he had a taste of what life had to offer once he put himself out there, what you offered felt bleak and monotone. Janet was a wild ride, a Bugatti Chiron on an empty lane and he loved the adrenaline.

But you… You were as soft as cotton, a needy lamb in the middle of a deserted island, begging for someone to come and rescue you. It wasn’t what he liked on his plate but it didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to have his fun with you. Your naivety came with being malleable and oh, how fun he was going to have, moulding you into whatever he liked.

Steve lifted you and threw you on the bed and you shied away from his fiery gaze. “Stay there.” you nodded and waited for his next move. He took off his coat and stripped himself off his jeans and navy blue shirt. He slowly pulled down his briefs and the primal instinct in you knocked on the door of your desire, tempting you to look but you were too mortified at the moment. Not having that many experiences… Well, not having any experience at all actually, made you feel extremely nervous.

You didn’t know what was happening or what he was going to do next. What if he asked you to do something your Biology classes didn’t teach you about? You were jittery as the ceiling of your dorm suddenly looked so intriguing. You listened to the ruffling noises of his clothes being taken off.

“Sit up.” You followed his order and he lifted your oversized shirt off your body and you suddenly felt so exposed. You weren’t wearing a bra because you never bothered to when you were in your resident and you lived with Natasha who didn’t even care if you walked around the dorm naked.

Your hands instantly shielded your breasts as you shrank before him. He pulled your hands away, clearly disagreeing with your sheepishness. “Now, now, let’s not play coy, shall we? You said you want me then what are you hiding for?”

You didn’t know what to say so you just nodded. He lightly pushed your shoulders so you laid back on the mattress, as Steve pulled down your pyjama shorts along with your underwear. You had never felt so unconcealed especially on the eyes of the man you had loved since you were a kid.

“Relax, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you… Well, maybe just a bit.” He winked as he positioned himself between your legs. He trailed butterfly kisses along your body, down from your belly to your neck. He knew the exact spot that would make you weak on the knees (as if you weren’t already–) and he took a little more time there to prep you for the imminent calamity.

You squirmed underneath as you let out a breathy moan. “Steve…”

“Shh, I got you.”

He dragged his fingers down your clit as he made a circling motion with his fingers there, making you shudder. You bit your lip with your eyes shut and you didn’t see how much he was enjoying the palpable effect he had on you.

“How does that feel, baby?”

“It feels… Good. So good, Steve.” Your wetness gathered and then you felt a nudge of his tip on your bud. You gasped and the friction opened your eyes. “What… What is that?”

“It’s just my cock being impatient for your soaked cunt, baby. Relax. We’re gonna get there.”

You slacked beneath him, letting him take the wheel. When you were wet enough, he stopped. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Yes… I trust you.”

“You’re willing to give yourself to me? Hm?” He nipped your bottom lip and he bucked his hips into you, giving you a peek of what was about to come.

“Yes… Yes, I will.”

“That’s a good girl.” He inserted his cock through your entrance, tearing off the thin piece of tissue that surrounds your opening. You shrieked in pain as you held on to his shoulders, trying to endure bear the new sensation you’d never felt before.

You closed your eyes, trying to regain composure but it was impossible with him filling you up so well. He withdrew his hips and thrust himself forward and he repeated the action. You tried to suppress your squeals but Steve encouraged you to do otherwise.

“Moan for me baby, go ahead.”

You couldn’t disobey him even if you wanted to anyway, so when he kept pounding you with his enormous cock, you lost your capability of doing anything else but scream his name and felt all of him inside you. The pain that hurt you at the beginning has morphed into newfound pleasure.

He picked up the speed, not wanting to wait any longer to reach his climax. The accelerated velocity formed a sensation in your abdomen, anticipating for its eruption. Steve felt you clenched around him and you couldn’t restrain yourself any longer, one more push and the coil inside you broke and you swore you saw stars and fireworks going off above you.

Steve’s grip tightened on your wrists as his cock throbbed, shooting his cum deep inside you. The euphoria never gets old. Even though he had just fucked two girls after the party last night, there was nothing more satisfying than knowing that he had just desecrated someone’s purity, which is exactly what just did to you.

Steve threw himself off of you in your tiny bed, laying next to you. He had one hand propping up his head and the other one on his stomach, a complacent look on his face beamed like the moon in the eventide. In a matter of seconds, Steve collapsed from the depletion and he flickered out like a light.

You, on the other hand, felt… Different. It was like your body was replaced with a clone and now you must make peace with the reality that this was your brand new skin. You felt something in you bloomed like a flower in spring. There was electricity in your veins like and you knew that you couldn’t return to what you once were before Steve led you down this path.

You regarded him at his most equanimous state and memorized every featured on his face. This was everything you had ever dreamed of; him, slumbering on your bed after he just made sweet, sweet love to you. His lashes fluttering with his lips slightly part as his soft snores escaped through the crevice. You wanted to touch him, anywhere, anywhere at all where you could palpate the minuscule parts him that composed him into who he is.

You recalled the graze on his knee when he recklessly rode down his bike on a bumpy road, taking a shortcut to the cinema because the film was starting in seven minutes and it took at least twenty to reach from his house.

You recalled the bruise on his cheek from when he was young and stupid; he dared to fight anyone who wouldn’t stop talking during the show.

You recalled the scar on his palm from when a branch scraped his skin when you had your own little summer adventure in the woods.

…And you recalled the first moment you fell in love with him; it was when you cried in fifth grade because your impish classmate, Jason had stolen your favourite pencil and he broke it. Steve comforted you by offering his own pencil even though he barely had enough money to buy another one and he didn’t hesitate in standing up to the boy and punched him on his nose. Jason went home and cried on his bicycle with a bleeding nose. It was also the moment you realized just how lucky you were to have such a considerate best friend like him.

You stargazed the man who you knew by heart like the back of your hand; you began to feel yourself getting drowsy so you let the weariness pulls you down to oblivion, there was no better view than Steve’s face being the last thing that you saw before you could meet him again in your dreams.

Steve didn’t realize he had fallen asleep so quickly after he fucked you; goddamnit, how the hell did this even happen? He always got up and leave as soon as possible after he had his fill. He wasn’t one for aftercare and cuddling after sex. He wasn’t planning on to settle in a relationship either.

After Janet was caught screwing Ken who he thought was his friend, he decided that he would stop committing into mundanity. Why on earth would he need to give himself to one woman only when he could have a million other women? He knew he was hot shit. He wasn’t this awkward and scrawny kid that he used to be anymore; he was bigger, bulkier, and braver.

He was also aware of the talent he possessed; he was an excellent performer. He had received countless praises from his schoolmates and his teachers after every school plays. He was going to attain even so much more now that he is in college. It’s a free real estate.

He didn’t need anyone else. The only woman worthy of his attention and devotion was his mom. His mom who had endlessly supported him, loved him and raised him. He made an oath to himself that he was going to pay back all her sweat from hours of drudgery. That means, he had to work his ass off until he no longer had to worry about paying the bills and filling his fridge. Until he could buy Sarah her own Range Rovers.

That also means he had no time to share an apartment with a girl and decorate it with tiny houseplants or talk about how many children they were going to have together. No, he knew that was what you wanted from him. He knew that was how you illustrated your future. He was getting miffed by it already. He’d hate having to pretend that he’s the slightest bit interested in having a conversation of “where is this going?”

So he tried to slip through your grasp as quiet as a ninja to prevent waking you up. You stirred a little bit and he was relieved to see that you didn’t open your eyes. God, we fucked once and he was already this clingy? No, thank you. He cerebrated.

He put on his clothes that were strewed on the floor and sprinted for the knob, letting himself out without looking back. He was free.

Natasha had returned from her date a little later than expected; Clint had taken her to the outskirts of town for a late getaway and they lost track of time. By the time she arrived at her dorm, it was nearing three am where there were barely people who were still up.

Except for one person. What the hell is he even doing here?

Natasha saw Steve Rogers coming out of the resident with a blue trench coat hugging his massive figure. He didn’t see her, lucky for him. Because if he had, she would’ve murdered him on spot with her glare. He should’ve thanked his guardian angels in heaven that Natasha was too knackered to obtrude herself in his direction and confront him. If she hadn’t, she would’ve tackled him to the ground. (She could do it, she had done it back in high school when someone tried to mug her. It was as if she was a highly trained Russian spy in another life or something)

She monitored him as he ignited the engine and bolted off his Harley Davidson to God knows where and then she entered her building. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder, did he come here to see you? Perhaps to apologize? Did I successfully knocked some sense into him? There would be a necessary conversation waiting for you in the morning.

In the dawn, you woke up with a glow permeating through the drawn curtains and one that emitted from your body. You couldn’t put a word to enunciate it, but it felt rapturous. Just like the ache between your legs.

You expected to see Steve next to you, thinking that he would be there to kiss you good morning and maybe you both could have breakfast together before class starts. But of course, he didn’t stay. Perhaps he left earlier to get ready at his own place and didn’t wanna wake you up? That would’ve been sweet but… was it really the incentive?

“Good morning.” Natasha greeted with a cotton towel wrapped around her body.

“Hey, what time did you come home last night?” you roused from your nestled state.

“Around 3 AM, got a little lost. Clint took us to the outskirts, I almost thought he was planning to kidnap me.” Natasha joked.

You were quiet. You had questions hovering in your head but you didn’t have the courage to voice them.

“Funny story… I ran into Steve Rogers last night. Well, I saw him walk out of the building more precisely.”

“Oh…” there was no curiosity or astonishment in your voice.

Natasha had a dubious look on her face, “did he come to see you?”

“…Yeah, he did.”

“Did he come to apologize?”

“…Not exactly.”

“Then what did he do?”

You bit your lip replaying the sin that you committed last night. You could still feel him between your legs and you felt your body tingled at the flashback. Your lack of respond told her everything she needed to know.

“Oh, no… Y/N…”

“No, it was actually… Good. He was really good.”

“Sweetie,” she asserted to make you listen. “You know you were only one of the hundreds of women he had slept with, right?” She postulated.

“What makes you say that?” you were dejected. But deep down, you knew… You knew that she wasn’t mistaken. But it doesn’t mean people can’t change… Right?

“I’ve dealt with men like him many times, y/n. I knew he was trouble as soon as I first saw him at the party. Remember all those girls who surrounded him like he was Charles Manson? I’ll bet you $20 that he had put his penis in every single one of them.”

Your words were clogged in your throat. You felt the pang in your heart at her truthful words. As much as you’d like to inculpate her for speaking nonsense, you knew better. Steve didn’t apologize, he never even showed a single shred of remorse for forsaking you in high school. He only came to take advantage of you and then fleed without saying goodbye.

Maybe the blame was on you, for closing your ears on your own intuition. For allowing him to climb inside your body and getting away unscathed after desecrating your innocence. You felt resentment, hurt, defeat, sorrow and loss filling you up like steaming hot water, searing you inside out. But you hated yourself more for knowing that despite all the incriminating turpitude he inflicted on you, you still yearned for him. You still loved him.

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fieryanmitsu · 4 years ago

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Intertwined Roots | ch. 6 - “tic-tac-toe” | A3! AU

This is another chapter that I was really looking forward to writing, since it introduces our last main character! This was also a chapter that I had planned out quite early on as well, so there was definitely a lot of anticipation to writing this!

Also, I realized that I’ve been using the wrong spelling for Tasuku’s nickname this whole time. I’m trying to stick with the localized spellings, and it’s spelled “Tachan” with only one ‘a’. I’ll have to go back and fix it in the previous chapters…!!

“Intertwined Roots” is an A3! alternate universe series where Izumi, Itaru, Tsumugi and Tasuku grow up as childhood friends.

For the summary, background and notes about the “Intertwined Roots” universe, along with more chapters, please refer to the “Intertwined Roots” Masterpost.

Masterpost for my other fanfiction: here

AO3: Link in my Blog Menu!

INTERTWINED ROOTS – ch. 6

“tic-tac-toe” | spring | Itaru (age 5) & Izumi (age 4)

Izumi sighed as she pushed away her picture book and flopped backwards onto the floor, her foot idly kicking at one of the coffee table legs. Though it was her favourite book, she had lost all motivation to turn the page and had been wearily rereading the same words over and over again.

Bored.

It had been four days since she’d last seen Tsumugi and Tasuku. This was the longest she had gone without seeing one of them since they’d first met almost two months ago.

“Mommy, when are Tsumu and Tachan coming back?” Izumi whined from her spot on the floor.

Haruna looked up from the kitchen counter she was cleaning and glanced at her daughter with an amused smile.

“That’s the second time you’ve asked that today, Izumi. They’ll be back at the end of Golden Week – so three more days.”

The young girl let out another miserable sigh.

“You’re going to chase all of your happiness away if you keep sighing, Izumi,” Haruna tutted lightly as she wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m done cleaning the kitchen for now, and there’s still time before I need to start dinner. How about we go to the park? Will that cheer you up?”

Izumi immediately sat up at the mention of the park. It wasn’t quite the same going to play without her best friends, but at least it would be more interesting than sitting at home. With an enthusiastic cheer, the girl scrambled to her feet and got herself ready. Soon, the mother-daughter duo left their two-bedroom apartment and leisurely made their way to the park Izumi often frequented with Tsumugi and Tasuku.

With everyone off work and school for Golden Week, the park was livelier than usual. Many families were spread out across the grass with picnic blankets and the air was filled with the joyful shouts and squeals of countless children. Izumi’s eyes swept across the playground, taking in the swarming play structure and fully occupied swing set, spring toys and sandbox. From what she could tell, most of the other children were several years older than her – about Fuyuki’s age.

“Izumi, after we spread out the blanket, can you help me pick some flowers for the house?” Haruna asked gently, feeling her daughter’s hand tighten around her own.

Perking up, Izumi nodded at her mother before they proceeded to claim an open area of grass with their pink and white blanket.

“Mommy, I’m gonna go this way to find more flowers!” Izumi called to her mother, several dandelions clutched in one hand. The young girl wanted to find some daisies to go with the yellow flowers she had already plucked.

As she walked further from her mother, scouring the grass for a glimpse of white flowers, she suddenly noticed a solitary figure crouched ahead of her on the outskirts of the playground. It was a young boy with fluffy hair and oval glasses. He was holding a stick in one hand and scratching it against the ground.

Maybe it was because he made such a striking sight, playing by himself in stark contrast to the bustling play structure behind him, but Izumi found herself fixated by the boy.

Curious about her new discovery, she scampered closer to the young boy and, before either of them realized, she had come to a stop in front of him. The only thing separating the two children was the drawing of a grid in the dirt between them.

Sensing her presence, the boy looked up from his drawing and glanced wordlessly at Izumi. His magenta eyes locked with her brown ones for just a moment before the boy’s gaze flickered back down to the dirt. Without even acknowledging her, he continued to scratch away at the ground.

Izumi watched as the boy drew an X in one corner of his three-by-three grid before drawing an O next to it. Then, he drew another X in the empty square above his O.

“Are you playing tic-tac-toe?” Izumi blurted out, surprised.

The boy looked up at her again with wide eyes, but didn’t answer her.

“I didn’t know you could play by yourself!” she exclaimed in awe, unperturbed by his silence. She had never thought to try that before.

Crouching down and setting her half-finished bouquet aside, Izumi studied the grid with an intense expression.

“Are you going to put the next O here?” she asked, pointing at an empty square. “Wait, no, put it here!”

Izumi was so caught up in her own excitement that she didn’t even notice that the boy still hadn’t said a word to her. In fact, he was staring at her as if she was speaking a completely different language.

“Can I play, too?!” Izumi asked eagerly, wanting to implement her great tactical plan to win the tic-tac-toe game. “Here, lemme borrow your stick!”

With her hand held out open and expectant in front of him, the boy reflexively placed his twig in her hand. Izumi quickly scratched an O into the dirt, blocking off the potential win.

“Your turn!” Izumi chirped, handing the stick back.

Though the boy still didn’t respond to her, he took the stick and drew an X two squares below her O before wordlessly proffering it to Izumi. Noticing that the boy was ignoring the row closest to her, Izumi drew another O beside her first one. Then, branch back in his hand, the boy scratched out his final X and drew a diagonal line through his three-in-a-row.

“I win,” he murmured quietly, a small smile spreading across his face.

“Ehhhhhh?!” Izumi exclaimed in dismay, more shocked that she had lost than by the fact that the boy had finally spoken. “Again!! Let’s play again! I’ll for sure win this time!”

“HEEEEEY! It’s time to go hoooome!!” a loud voice suddenly interrupted.

Looking up at the unexpected holler, the two children saw an older girl waving in their direction.

“Um, I gotta go,” the boy mumbled, standing up and dusting off his pants.

“Wait!” Izumi exclaimed, shooting upright as well. “Will you be here tomorrow?”

“Umm…”

Brows furrowed, the boy glanced anxiously over his shoulder at the older girl waiting with her hands on her hips, before whipping his head back to look at the bright-eyed child in front of him.

“Uh, I… I don’t…” he stuttered nervously, unsure of how to respond.

“Come back tomorrow, okay? After lunch!” Izumi insisted. “I wanna play tic-tac-toe with you again!”

Without waiting for his answer, Izumi took the boy’s right hand in both of her own and maneuvered his pinky to stick out. Hooking her own pinky around his, she shook their hands up and down furiously.

“There! Now it’s a pinky swear! So, if you don’t come back tomorrow, you’ll have to swallow a thousand needles!”

Dropping his hand, Izumi knelt to pick up her discarded flowers, oblivious to the dazed look on the boy’s face.

“Oh! I forgot! I’m Izumi! What’s your name?”

“… Itaru…”

((I commissioned some artwork for this chapter of the fic, you can check it out HERE!))

Ahhh, I’m so glad I was finally able to introduce Itaru!! Honestly, one of the biggest reasons behind how this series came to life was my desperate need to have a universe where young Itaru is happy and grows up with wonderful friends who appreciate and love him T_T.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! I’d love to hear your thoughts, so please do leave a comment if you have any impressions! As usual, any reblogs are much appreciated! Thank you for stopping by!

There’s also a couple more days before my 100 Followers Milestone Event ends, so if you’re interested in entering a draw for a gift fic or want to submit an A3! Drabble Request, please do check out this post for the rules!

-Anmitsu

#a3!#a3! game #a3! act! addict! actors!#itaru chigasaki #izumi tachibana #chigasaki itaru #tachibana izumi #a3 act addict actors #a3! actor training game #act addict actors #a3! itaru #a3! izumi #a3! intertwined roots #anmitsu writes

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lutrain2020 · 4 years ago

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Meet the Creator!

Introducing: Seeking7 or Seeking!

Commission: I don't offer writing commissions at the moment, mostly because I'm not sure how to conduct or present myself in the market. If anyone would like to request a certain fic or short story from me, however, I'd be glad to work out details with them. :)

Social Media: A03: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seeking7 FFnet: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/13334645/

Tell us a little bit about you!

Hiya! I'm Seeking7, or Seeking. I was born in Alabama and raised in California to a pair of the most hardworking Egyptian immigrants you've ever met, and the mixture of Arabic and American influence over the course of my life has had a profound influence on the way I look at the world. My favorite subjects are biology and english, and I aspire to become either an EMT or military medic after I graduate. In regards to hobbies (aside from playing copious amounts of Zelda), I love studying American and Ancient Israelite history, and I hope to one day learn ancient Hebrew and Greek so I can read the original biblical manuscripts for myself!

Is there someone who inspires you and your writing?

While my own brain can usually come up with a certain scene or idea that would inspire me to put paper to pen, it's the people I have around me that encourage me to keep writing. The people on FFN and AO3 who comment and leave kudos on my work mean the world to me (shout out to JoSeBach on FFN and MyWritingisMeh on Ao3 for leaving comments/reviews on each chapter of my fic "Mephibosheth"). The LU fans who come to my livewrites on the discord are so ridiculously encouraging and always let me know that my writing can actually be interesting to some people -- a fact that never ceases to astound me. But most credit goes to my younger sister. Even when I don't show her a work because it might be a little bit extreme or intense for her age, she always lets me know that she's sure it's good regardless. Her unconditional, unreasonable support inspires me to be that kind of person to other fic writers!

What got you into writing?

Three books in particular encouraged me to take writing seriously. "Crime and Punishment" was the first in this process, showcasing just how intense, beautiful, and profound a book with actually very little plot can be. The entire book takes place more or less in the head of a man wracked to pieces by guilt, and Dostoevsky's decision to focus on internal instead of external conflict changed the way I looked at literature. "East of Eden" was next. It wasn't just the book's allegorical nature or the Cain and Abel motif that astounded me - Steinbeck's vivid descriptions of everything from the human mind to sunrise in Salinas has had a profound impact on my own writing. I still reference the first few pages when I write! (actually, if you look at my fic "The Most Sincere Kind of Lie," the opening paragraph is heavily inspired by the first page of East of Eden!) Finally, the biblical Book of Job changed the way I look at dialogue and interactions between flawed characters. The whole book is almost written like an ancient screenplay and deals with heavy questions like the meaning of pain and the meaning of meaninglessness without offering direct answers - which inspired me to try and include those questions in my own writing and handle them in a similar, vague, interperative way.

What's your favorite part of the writing process?

After outlining a fic, I usually start out by writing them like a screenplay with all dialogue tags and action notes written off to the side. When sarcastic banter, silly, lighthearted interactions, or intense conversations with a deeper meaning behind them start to come together, I can't help but smile. That usually gives the the extra inspirational boost I need to go back and flesh everything out so it becomes a story! (if you struggle with writing dialogue, message me on the discord and I'll be glad to tell you everything I know and send you the multitude of resources I have on the subject)

What's your least favorite part of the writing process?

Vetting works for grammatical mistakes turns writing fics into homework! I can't stand posting something and later reading just to find out that I forgot to capitalize a character's name, or that a comma is missing, or that Ao3 or FFN messed up the page breaks and I have to go back in and fix it. I'm not a perfectionist most of the time, but when I come to writing, I absolutely am.

Whats your favorite type of scene to write?

Intense philosophical debates and serious heart-to-heart conversations are by far my favorite kind of scenes to write, and that's because they're my favorite kind of scenes to observe and read! I always leave them feeling like I've gained something intellectually and emotionally, and it's my constant hope and dream to be able to impart the same kind of introspective thoughtfulness on the reader.

What's the hardest for you to write?

Allowing or even plotting for a character to go off the deep end is always such a hard thing to write. Not for them to die, necessarily, but for them to completely lose their morals, priorities, and relationships in search for something selfish or temporary. Writing them making the same mistakes over and over not because they're stupid but because they don't care about the consequences is always hard -- it's like killing off a character and replacing them with the darkest, nastiest version of themselves. Basically, writing the opposite of character development is the opposite of fun. :(

What's your favorite genre to write?

Whatever the hybrid child of angst and fluff is called, that's my baby. I find that a combination of the two can make for a really interesting experience and give me more space to explore different faucets of each character's personality. It's also the perfect breeding ground for some intense, sincere conversations.

What fandoms do you enjoy writing for?

I don't write for a lot of fandoms, just Linked Universe, Undertale, and occasionally LoZ stuff not tied directly to our nine precious boys.

What's the work you are most proud of?

I've only gotten into LU very recently, so at the time of writing this I don't have anything from the fandom that's ready to showcase. I do have some cool Undertale stuff though, at least in my opinion! If you're interested in that, there are two fics I've poured (and am currently pouring) my heart and soul into that I'm extremely proud of. The first one is 'The Reason,' which is just a quick oneshot focused on Grillby being an amazing, hardworking dad, (https://archiveofourown.org/works/24354130) and the second is Mephibosheth,' my multi-chapter pre-canon fic about the lives of Asriel and Chara. '(https://archiveofourown.org/works/23804797)

Is there a specific scene you are particularly proud of?

Going again off the works I referenced earlier, a particular scene in the ninth chapter of 'Mephibosheth' had me patting myself on the back. I can't tell you what it is, though, because it's a massive spoiler. ;)

Is there something you had to work through that forced you to grow as a writer?

At the beginning of my junior year of high school I submitted two works into a competition I was confident I would win. No, not just win, I was sure I would get first place nationally. The competition never had many submissions and I knew that the works I submitted were pretty darn good. As you can probably guess, I didn't win anything. No medal or mention, nothing. I was in shock for a good few days and considering giving up writing completely. Then I realized how stupid I was being for assuming I was entitled to an award, for writing something only for recognition, and for thinking that I should give up on something I love so much just because it didn't supply me with the endorphin rush I thought it would. I made it a goal to improve as much as humanly possible afterwards, and I'm happy to say that I think I'm making progress towards that!

Do you have any fics inspired by real life stories?

Every gremlin-like thing the boys do in my WIP LU fic "The Most Sincere Kind of Lie" (by the time this is up, it'll probably be on Ao3) is based off something I've seen my brother and sister do. They're the embodiment of utter chaos and the manifestation of the primal urge to destroy, so they're great inspiration for Link shenanigans. Also, almost all of the banter in 'Mephibosheth' has taken inspiration from one of three places; conversations I've had with my grandparents, conversations I've had with my siblings, or interviews I've watched online. Inspiration for thought-provoking dialogue has to come somewhere that's not my own brain - there aren't enough brain cells to bear the brunt of that creative burden!

Where do you post your finished works?

I post on FFN and Ao3, both under the alias Seeking7. What's that, you say? You want a link to my profile? Well, who am I to refuse?? (AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seeking7) (FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/13334645/)

#Meet The Creator #lutrain2020 #linkeduniverse #lu

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itsegerton · 4 years ago

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Chapter 1: Attack on the Neighbors

Anastasia realized as she looked through the crystal wall that surrounded her bedroom in her Beverly Hills mansion that it was a dark night, darker than usual. Even though there was a full moon, not a single beam of light could be seen in the deep blue sky, which matched the color of her hair.

It was a Saturday night. At 29 years of age, Anastasia was working, writing songs. Thanks to her family name and her father’s profession, she had chosen music as a career and excelled at it.

Her father, Nick Truman, was the leader of a legendary rock band and passed on to all his knowledge of the business to his youngest daughter. From an early age, Anastasia worked hard to become a famed music producer.

One song was giving Anastasia a hard time. A client had commissioned her with a song about discovering love and she knew very little about it. Luckily, she was an avid reader and as such, she tried to invocate all those romantic novels she had read and hated to help her finish the damn song.

A noise downstairs startled her. She looked up from the paper and placed her eyes on her bedroom door, then looked back out the window but could not spot anything out of the ordinary –except for that darkness which she found strange. Anastasia was sitting on a bench next to a crystal wall, from where she could stare down to her patio and a big infinity pool and some classic garden elements such as chairs and tables. The house was two stories high and all the walls that faced the patio were glass. Those incredible views convinced her of buying that house six years ago.

In spite of being born with a silver spoon in her mouth, the blue-haired girl had worked since the age of fifteen; in music, modeling and even found the time to graduate as a professional musician in the University of California. She was not your typical Hollywood heiress living at her parents’ expense. Nevertheless, she had gone through a rebel phase where she partied every night and went on insane trips around the world, spending money without thinking of the consequences. That often put her in the front cover of tabloids, which dubbed her ‘her family’s disgrace.’

A new noise made her look away from her window. This time, it was louder and closer. They were movement noises. Objects were moving. At that precise moment, she understood why the night appeared as dark and in a millisecond, her brain deciphered that she had to leave that house as soon as possible.

Anastasia took her phone and tried calling her older sister, Barbara; she did not pick up. She tried again with no luck. She decided to compose a text message:

“I’m heading to your place.”

She put her phone in the back pocket of her jeans, left the pen and paper aside, and full of fear, headed to the entrance.

Anastasia opened the door to her bedroom; the rest of the house looked darker than usual as well. She did not need a flashlight; this was her home, she knew it by heart. As she arrived to the hallway before taking the stairs down, she felt an instant heaviness all over her body, just like she were carrying somebody heavy.

“Leave me alone!” she yelled. “Get out of my house!”

As she got halfway down the stars, Anastasia felt a sharp, deep headache. She had to stop and close her eyes due to the pain, but knew she could not stay there. As she could, she arrived to the lower floor and adjusted her sight to look around her. The heaviness and the headache increased. She took three steps and felt like something or someone pushed her. She fell over her largest couch. It was a short way until the entrance but felt like her arms and legs had turned to butter; it was impossible for her to stand straight. Suddenly, her sight turned red and it was hard to breathe.

Anastasia had to try with all her might to get out of there.

She crawled and made a great effort to make her way to the entrance when she heard a loud roar behind her. She did not stop to look back. One last adrenaline kick made her get up, take the keys to her car from a small table to her right, open the door and run to her car. Still struggling with that headache, she turned on the ignition and drove until her vision adapted to a normal environment.

One hour later she found herself knocking her stepsister’s door, in Malibu. She knocked so hard and insistently that her sister opened up, scared. Anastasia looked into Barbara’s eyes in panic and couldn’t keep standing. She collapsed at the entrance.

Barbara dragged Anastasia inside to her living room and sat her down on an emerald green futon. “They were at my house,” Anastasia fearfully told her sister. “They came to get me.”

“The night’s unusually dark, I knew something was going on,” replied Barbara as she went to get some fresh lemonade for Anastasia.

“Do you think she’s dead?” Anastasia asked while her sister offered her a glass.

Barbara did not reply. It wasn’t necessary.

Apart from having a musical gift, Anastasia is part of the witch population of the world. The witch community is much reduced and extremely occult. Witches have been persecuted for years because humans tend not to like what they cannot understand. Besides witches, there is a whole compendium of communities with hidden powers and some of them are dangerous even for witches.

Magical powers were granted to two members of each generation of families that had been initiated as witches. Barbara, who had light, mid-back length brown hair and big, green eyes like grass after rain, also had powers and perfectly understood what was happening.

Anastasia chugged the glass of lemonade.

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

“You won't like what I'm about to say.” Barbara replied. "You need to leave. You were lucky you got out.”

“Leave?!" She exclaimed. "Why were they looking for me?” Anastasia’s huge, turquoise eyes opened wide.

“They know you’re on your way to becoming a powerful witch. That’s not good for them. They want to get rid of us all.” Barbara turned her back on her sister. “There has to be a snitch within the coven,” she muttered.

“What did you say?” Anastasia asked, although she had heard her well.

“Nothing, it’s not important.” Barbara replied, causing suspicion to her younger stepsister. “You should go to sleep. The full moon will be over tomorrow, they can’t attack you anymore. I’m going to throw my moon water away, it’s contaminated.”

Anastasia walked with Barbara to the patio of the luxurious mansion located by the shore of a private beach. There, she had five half-a-gallon jars of water that she placed there every time there was a full moon, to be charged with the energy of the satellite. Together, they took the jars and emptied them in the coast, allowing the liquid to mix with the water from the ocean.

Sleeping was impossible that night. She had faced a beast and she was still alive. Adrenaline was running through her veins and the concern did not let her rest.

The following morning, Anastasia woke up with the sound of the breaking waves that went in through the big window that served as a wall. Malibu had that aura that eased her anxiety and her complicated brain. The sound of the ocean was helpful; she had always felt a connection to it.

The deep-blue-haired girl got up from the comfy bed and opened the window that faced a small balcony, from where she could glance at the entire coast and the backyard of her sister’s mansion. She breathed deeply, trying to fill up her lungs with the salty air and wondered if in another life she had inhabited the depths of the ocean, as a part of some civilization hidden from human stupidity.

She turned on her heel to her bathroom to take a quick shower. The weather was warm enough, so a grey dress and sneakers dressed her body that day. Anastasia always made sure to keep a change of clothes in that house as she crashed it from time to time. Her sister never closed the door on her.

Before leaving the bedroom, she looked at herself in the mirror. The color of her eyes varied from turquoise to aquamarine. They were big, enormous like a doll’s. Her skin was pale as china; she got it from her grandmother on her father’s side –a British gypsy witch. Her lips were small but plump. She decided on the spot not to wear makeup that day. She closed the door behind her and although she had to walk downstairs to the kitchen, a hunch told her to head up to the attic.

Just as her head predicted it, there was her sister in front of a big cauldron. Every witch had a specialty and Barb’s potions (as Anastasia affectionately called them) were the most effective of them all. Then she spotted another figure, her sister wasn't alone. A tall lady with light blonde hair, almost white was avidly talking with Barbara.

Anastasia took a seat on a red couch that stood out from all the wood around her. The attic was filled with shelves containing strange objects: jars, potion ingredients, and books. A sole rounded window provided the entire room with light. It could not be seen from the outside architecture of the mansion, from the ocean’s shore –that window was hidden under a strong, protective spell. Witches’ dens were personal and only explicitly invited humans could enter them.

The place was decorated with old pictures and paintings showing witches of all times, from gypsies to those brave women of Salem. Witches were always feared because of the power they represented. While men were heads of families whose function was to sustain, hunt, rule, govern and women were displaced to less relTaront activities, witches rose up to do everything the male gender could and more, therefore, many lost their lives. They were never understood and much less respected. Nowadays they lived hidden. The fear was never gone but while living a concealed life they could be themselves and put their powers to practice, waiting for the day the world could finally see them without a dagger slashing their necks.

The witches’ power was granted by nature. They had the ability to manipulate the Universe’s energies to achieve everything their hearts and minds, at unison, wished for. On the other hand, there were many other creatures that had stolen that power to use for their own benefit and own the world order. Many ruled nations and hurt thousands, they appeared in human form to the mortals’ eyes, but inside they were dark, shapeless, black-smoke-emitting masses with two red slits in the place of eyes. They fed on suffering and power kept them alive. They had no name, because by naming them they’d get the respect they did not deserve. Witches prevented them from taking over the world order, and therefore they dedicated their lives to hunting them and murdering them. When that happened, they sent their heads to the doorstep of the covens’ leaders as a warning that they were, bit by bit, achieving their goal.

That is why witches had to hide their power from humans. They didn’t know which of them could turn into one of those dark masses, except for Anastasia. She had been blessed with the maximum power of empathy. She could read people; know their deepest feelings by only looking into their eyes. When she did not feel an ounce of sadness or joy in a human, she knew she had to run.

Many had connected the power of witches to the devil, and while this is not exactly correct, many witches had chosen to serve evil with their powers. But there was no such malignant entity. Magic could do good and could also cause terrible suffering. Only those who could dominate both sides, light and darkness, could be leaders of the Coven. Many felt intimidated by handling dark arts, while others felt so attracted to them that darkness consumed them. Anastasia’s run with darkness had been scarce but satisfactory, so much that she became obsessed and Barbara had to intervene to regulate those practices.

“I have news,” said Barbara as soon as she felt the presence of her younger sister pointing to the lady at her side.

"I'm so sorry your Saturday was ruined like that", the blond lady said taking Anastasia but her arms. "You were so brave".

“Yeah.it wasn't like I was having fun anyway so…" said Anastasia in a low voice, as she glimpsed her sister rolling her eyes.

“They also attacked Mika at her house. They’re getting more aggressive and powerful.” Barbara was making a potion so her eyes were fixed on the cauldron.

“How did you survive?”, Anastasia looked to Mika.

“I took some paralyzing potion. The best one, made by Barb of course. My heart stopped for a few seconds and they thought I was dead, so they went off for a bit and I ran to seek shelter. I imagine that if they returned, they wouldn’t find me.” Barbara was adding some bright purple dust to the cauldron.

“Maybe that’s why they came to my house. Maybe they thought Mika was hiding there.” Anastasia’s word caused her sister to look into her eyes for the first time that morning.

“Why the hell would Mika hide at your house?” asked the eldest sister. Anastasia shrugged.

Instead of answering Mika looked at Anastasia kindly in her eyes. She took the girls hands and inspection them cautiously.

"I remember when you were born. Your midnight blue hair got all the hospital talking. We were so glad a witch was born. The first in a decade". The witches population had been shrinking thanks to the necessity of hiding their powers. Magic is like a muscle if you don't use it you'll lose it, as Barbara would love to say. Since the 80's born witches were a rare phenomenon, imagine a blue haired one.

"Yeah, I would like to remember my birth", Anastasia said sarcastically. Mika always created a sense of comfort when she was around, truth was that Anastasia wasn't very close to the North America Coven Leader as she was called by fellow witches in the continent. Mika ruled with a strong but emphatic hand and she was loved by everyone.

Mika was a role model but not to her. Magic wasn't something Anastasia focused a lot on. She actually kind of neglected it. Situation got easy out of hand in the past and she decided that magic wasn't going to define her.

"You are going to be a great leader one day", Mika turned her back to Anastasia and started walking around the room. "But you need to accept who you are and study" She made a pause "A lot".

Anastasia looked at Barbara confused. Her sister nailed her eyesight on the cauldron to avoid the big turquoise eyes.

"Yeah, I don't know about that. I can't even manage my own life, imagine being in charge of a whole damn coven. Never less one of the most important in the world!", she laughed but neither Mika nor Barbara raised even half smile.

"She needs time", Barbara said to Mika.

"Something we don't have", Mika answered. "Your sister told me you own a small apartment in London"

"I wouldn't call it small" Anastasia was interrupted by Mika.

"I suggest you take some time off to enjoy that gorgeous British grey skies", Mika said.

"Pardon me?", Anastasia was understanding everything now but her brain was trying to block what was coming.

"You need to leave", her sister said abruptly. "Even if you like it or not you are next in line to be the leader of this coven. And we need you safe, alive and wise. You are going to London and you're gonna learn as much as you can about what you are and your mission in this world".

"I'm almost 30, I have a job and a life here and frankly I never asked to be any of this", she just spit those words without second thoughts. The pain that Barb and Mika felt was instant.

“I need you to take this seriously. I need you to take magic seriously for the first time in your life.” Barbara said firmly.

From the age of eight, Anastasia knew she was a witch. Her abilities began manifesting, but she never cared too much about them. She never wanted to train or learn. To her, it was something she had to keep at bay. It was just something she could do, not who she was. On the other hand, music was everything to her, so she sought to focus her energy on that.

“Barbara, for Hell’s sakes!” Anastasia laughed profusely.

“As much as I wish I were lying, I’m not.” Barbara replied, upset by her sister’s reaction. “Anastasia, a power such as yours has not been seen for centuries.”

“But I don’t practice magic! Apart from a couple of spells to date guys in my teenage years and to do well in College, I haven’t done much more,” replied Anastasia.

“Because you have repressed your power. You never wanted to learn how to use it.”

“Yes, from the moment I began seeing people all around that weren’t really there, I didn’t want to keep up with it.”

“It’s your duty as a witch to educate yourself so that you can rule the Coven in the future.” Mika interveneed.

“I’m at the highest peak of my career, I don’t have time for this.” Anastasia got up from the couch and headed to the door.

“Go ahead, act spoiled! It’s what you do best anyway! Just caring about yourself".

Barbara could sometimes be very hurtful. Anastasia stopped and wanted to talk back to her sister, but thought it through and kept going, out of the attic, the house and into her car. She drove back to Los Angeles, to her place.

On the way she did a couple of calls to Matt, her on and off boyfriend. But as natural he didn't answer.

I do not want to rule the Coven, she kept telling herself over and over as she drove. She also though she didn’t really want to go back home, but as she got closer, a crowd of people gathering outside the Jensen’s porch called her attention. Anastasia pulled over by her own gate and curiosity drove her straight to the house next door. She made her way among the people and when she got to the front of her neighbors’ place, she spotted two police cars. The house perimeter was surrounded by yellow tape. Standing there was a blonde lady who kept staring at the main entrance. It was Cindy, the youngest in the family. She was about 21 years old. Anastasia always ran into her at LA events. Cindy was the typical party girl, and judging by her choice of outfit –mini dress and high-heeled shoes, she was just returning from one.

“Cindy!” Anastasia called her.

The blonde girl turned her head towards her. Her make-up was smudged all over her face; she had been crying. Cindy signaled Anastasia to come over and so she did, going under the yellow tape.

“What happened?” Anastasia inquired as she walked.

“My parents—they—they’re…” Cindy stretched her arms out to hug Anastasia. When they touched, an electric shock ran through the blue-haired girl. It was so strong that every nerve on her body hurt, her vision blurred and a scene came in front of her: the Jensen’s master bedroom. The father, Carl, lay on the floor. When she adjusted her sight she realized his neck was slashed from side to side. She kept looking all over her body but nothing prepared her for what she was about to see next: half of his body was missing, just like they had ripped it off him. All internal organs and guts were spread around him. She felt a sharp pain in her stomach. His lower belly and his leg were about 12 inches away. Wendy Jensen lay in bed in a similar situation: her left arm was under the bedside table and the lower half of her body was by the bed. As if all of this weren’t strange enough, there was not a single drop of blood in the scene.

Cuts weren’t clean; they looked more like rips caused by a beast. The organs looked clean. The couple looked like mannequins. Carl’s eyes were open and completely white. When she turned to Wendy, she realized the woman was missing both eyes.

The vision faded in a second as soon as Cindy let go of Anastasia. Fear took over her and she understood she hadn’t been inside the house. Instead, she had seen what Cindy herself had seen when she walked in that morning. The adrenaline rush was so strong she abruptly parted from Cindy and fell butt-first on her neighbors’ front lawn. Her expression was one of terror and Cindy’s was one of being stricken by the situation.

“Cindy, I—I am so—so sorry.” That was the only thing Anastasia managed to say before running back to her own place. On the way, she spotted the suspicious looks of a couple of policemen, but she kept on walking, trying as much as she could to ignore her surroundings.

Once home, Anastasia locked the front door and called Barbara immediately. A couple of hours later, the eldest sister was knocking on the door.

“I swear that had never happened to me before.” Anastasia was terrified. She was sitting on her blue futon, sipping on some tea Barbara had made her.

“As much as you try to repress your magic, your powers will manifest themselves one way or another. If you had learned to control them years ago, they wouldn’t come out as intensely now.” Barbara explained.

“I just touched her, but I could experience everything the poor Cindy went through when she found her parents torn to pieces. Terror, shock, uncertainty,” Anastasia explained. “It was horrible.”

“You’re empathic, that’s a normal ability of your power.” Barbara sat down next to her sister.

“Now, tell me, were they dismembered?”

Anastasia nodded.

“Not a drop of blood around?”

Anastasia shook her head no.

“The bodies were clean, just like the entire scene.” Anastasia put down the cup of tea on the coffee table. “Do you think the same creatures that tried to attack me did this?”

“To be honest, yes.” Barbara replied. Anastasia got up in a heartbeat.

“It was my fault, Barbara. It was my fault that they died. It’s my fault poor Cindy is now an orphan.” Anastasia paced around but a force out of her might have made her stop.

“It was not your fault.” Barbara moved her fingers to release Anastasia from the spell. “If you hadn’t ran away, I would be picking up your pieces now, and the Universe knows I wouldn’t do it all by myself. Those creatures were thirsty. Unlucky for them, Carl and Wendy were home.”

“They just came back from Mykonos,” Anastasia said as she sat back down.

“They should’ve stayed in Greece,” Barbara uttered sarcastically.

#anastasiatruman #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic writing #fan fiction #taron egerton #taronegerton #Egerton #taron egerton fanfiction #taronegertonfanfic #fantasy #witch witches

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carnal-lnstinct · 5 years ago

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Conton City Lockdown

Summary: Time patrollers have returned from missions carrying an unknown disease and infecting others denizens of Conton City with it, forcing Trunks and Supreme Kai of Time to shut down most operations and training around the City and drastically limit missions for a while until they can get everything under control. Everyone is instructed to stay inside their assigned domiciles until further notice. "Who knows what that could do to the timeline if Patrollers pass it on during a mission?!" Supreme Kai of Time urges Conton. The Conton City Hero has also been quarantined with her current Master, Goku much to both their dismay as there was still so much training left. What other shenanigans can the two saiyans get themselves into while being all cooped up.

Word Count: 7,140 (Chapter 1) AO3 Rating: Explicit / Mature Warning: nsfw ( smut, explicit language ) A/N: This was inspired by tumblr's lilhemmo/AO3 moegan's "Alone Together" series (Definitely check that out) and the recent events effecting the world today. An anthology of encounters with the beloved earthy saiyan, Goku who is the current Master of the Saiyan Time Patroller, currently known around as the Conton City Hero. I can't do anything but write in this quarantine so here we go! Also, it has been YEARS since I wrote smut so the rust will be very evident.

Chapter 1

This was such a waste of time. You didn't spend all this time getting stronger just to be thrown into hiding from some fever and little coughing going around. As far as you could tell only the humans and namekians were getting sick, but it was pressed urgently by The Supreme Kai of Time and Trunks that everyone take part in preventing it from spreading around lest more patrollers are put out of commission because of it. Even the Hero of Time was getting involved in it. Your long tail flicked in annoyance as you stare outside the window with a grump, upset that on such a perfect day for perfecting a new move you were stuck inside to endure the sounds of your current teacher gobbling down all your food behind you. "Never been sick a day in my whole life." You grumbled. Were you not all warriors of your respective races? Stronger than anything that has come at you? That was why you were all chosen in the first place to help fix time. As selfish as it sounded coming from the Hero of Conton City, it doesn't change the fact that sitting idle for an undetermined amount of time would settle in your warrior blood so easily. With a growl, you immediately turn to let off some steam, giving your own Master an earful, "How can you just sit there and eat at a time like this?! Aren't you the least bit concerned as to when we can go back out to finish training!" You snap, breaking the doe-eyed Saiyan's concentration as he looked at you, cheeks full to the brim and chopsticks hanging off his lips.

"Aw c'mon, there's no need to worry on an empty stomach. Besides, this place has everything! I'm sure if Bulma gets involved she'll be able to fix this up in a jiffy." Goku's muffled protest follows an audible gulp as he reaches over and pats the empty table setting across from him. " Now come on, as your fighting Master I order you to sit and chow down with me, or else!"

"Th- That's not how that works! You don't get to boss me around like a child!" You growled again, but so does your stomach, prompting your cheeks to tint a pink at how your body betrayed you in the moment. Goku hums an "over here~" sound as he pointed to empty space again with his chopsticks, settling back down to continue his assault on the various plates around him. You tuck your arms and turn your head away, however you do walk over and sit down across from him. Your temper subsided as you begin to eat, pace picking up to match that of your Master's as the flavors settle on your tongue. Before you know it all the plates are empty for the most part, leaving only small traces of food behind and some bones picked clean of their spoils. That really did hit the spot, but it only reminded you now that you felt 100% again there was no way of burning off the energy. The assigned housing of the Time Patrollers are pretty spacious, about the size of a one bedroom apartment but that could not accommodate a saiyan's training methods. Let alone Mr. "Go All Out" and his teaching style. You were so excited to keep practicing the Super Kamehameha Wave you recently learned. In truth it wasn't that much different from the others you learned in your training other than its charge time, but it did pack a bigger punch and you needed to know how to effectively apply it in battle if you were every going to whip it out successfully. Goku's been pretty relentless in his sparring with you because of it too, purposely not giving you the opening you needed to apply the new skill but hoping you find your own way to use it for your benefit. You were so sure you finally had it, too. You sigh leaning back in your chair and craning your head back over the edge, hearing your Master stretch himself out as well and suddenly get up from the table. "Alright! Well, since we can't train anymore for today I guess I better get goin'."

"You can't." You point out not making any movement from your restful position. "Supreme Kai of Time says we all have to stay put. That include you, Kakarot."

"What?! No way, that's hardly fair."

You jerk your head up to look at him, scowling at his whine. "That's what I said hours ago before you started stuffing your face!"

"Well, yeah but see, If I use the Instant Transmission technique, so long as I avoid anyone whose sick I shouldn't get it." The larger Saiyan confidently explains with his signature grin. You sigh, knowing the logic was pretty sound for him but there was still some issues with that.

"There was a whole announcement about this from Trunks. It's airborne, 'Master' , and also passed on through physical contact. Even if you Instant Transmission back, there's no way of telling who has it when you come in contact with them or if you became a carrier while you were already here training others. Then you pass it on to everyone you know and all of a sudden all your Earthling friends are sick. There's no sensu bean for that, remember?" You explain to him calmly now, somehow hearing it from your own mouth makes it seem more of an emergency than Trunks and Supreme Kai of Time making their announcements throughout the city. "Sure...Bulma could be helpful somehow, but if she gets it too..." This really is serious. The despondent look your Master gives you all but breaks your heart as he sits back down and mull over what's going on. "Like it or not Teach', we're stuck here until they give the okay."

Realizing you're now going to have to accommodate your single space for another, you cross your hands against your chest again in thought. You know the Conton Bots are doing what they can to sanitize the whole city and keeping rations in order so cleaner utilities would be the best first stop. Your storage gadget may need to be cleaned off, too. Goku doesn't seem the type to carry around any tools so he may not need anything sent out for the bots. You have a pretty comfy couch he can crash on, too. Since you were both outside today, you're going to have to change. Luckily he left some spare clothes here the last time you trained, that blue tracksuit he got from King Kai's planet. You open your mouth beginning to bring it up but hesitate and a small croak comes out instead, prompting him to look at you curiously. If you bring up King Kai, he's sure to teleport there instead leaving you here alone. Nope! Not after this mess he made of all the dishes! You clear your throat and put aside that fact for a while. "W-well, you better get cleaning. These dishes aren't going to wash themselves." You cheekily say as you fold your arms behind your head, kicking your feet up at the table. Goku gapes at you.

"No way! You made just as many as me! What kind of selfish meanie makes their guest do all the work, anyways?!" He whines once again, looking over the pile of bowls and plates that stood higher than him in his seated position. You grin and shrug, snapping a finger at him, "Chop, Chop." Goku pouts, standing up and leaning over an opening among the tall stack.

"Then I challenge you for it! Rock, Paper, Scissors!" He grins once again, extending his hand with a closed fist in the "rock" formation. You tilt your head and smirk. He had you at "challenge". You extend your hand as well in the same position. "Loser does the dishes."

"Ready?" He smirks, game face on.

"Yep."

"Rock! Paper! Scissors, Go!" Goku switches his hand to form paper "Rock! Paper! Scissors, Go!" You leave your fist to form rock.

"--Wait! Best two out of three!" You readied your hand again, intensely staring down his as he moves back into the starting position with a giggle.

"Fine then! Get ready!"

"Rock! Paper! Scissors, Go!" Goku switches his hand to form paper again "Rock! Paper! Scissors, Go!" You switch your hand to form scissors.

"For the win! Go!" You shout, excited.

"Rock! Paper! Scissors, Go!" Goku switches his hands to form paper once more. "Rock! Paper! Scissors, Go!" You switch your hands to form rock.

You growl loudly, slamming your fist onto the table in defeat and rattling the stack of dishes, Goku holds two fingers air, posing for victory and motioning away from the dining table. "Alright! It's settled then. Looks like you still have more to learn, pupil." He giggles again. You could sock him in his face right now for that. But a deal's a deal. You'll settle this later when you're allowed to get outside again. "Don't think this is over!" You shout out after him as he rounds a corner into the main area of the domicile. Pile by pile is begrudgingly moved from the table to the sink, water running to allow it to heat up as you started on the chore. You mutter again, sure he cheated somehow in that last round with his freaky god powers or something to get in your head. Regardless, the pile was taken care of and the dishes were stowed away as you sigh with relief it was over. You make your way back over to the suspiciously quiet main area of your home to find Goku flipping through a book with a colorful cover. Once you noticed the black and white images on the exposed pages, you froze.

"What the hell are you doing?!" You fling yourself at the taller male to snatch the manga from his hands and curl around it to keep it from his eyes, using your tail as some makeshift bat to swat him away. "That's not for you to look at!" You shriek at him. No one must know the Conton City Hero was into such trashy reads. If one could call it reading.

Goku with his hands up defensively takes a step back and blinks confusedly. "Woah, What? How come? It's just a book, isn't it? I, uh, just noticed the people on the front of it had tails like Saiyans." He laughs, "Is it like a wrestling book or something? They have some pretty weird techniques...Oh! I get it, you're going to use those as secret techniques to fight with."

"IT'S NOT FIGHTING!" You're louder and clearly defensive, but curiosity already has the best of your Saiyan Master. You get back to your feet holding the manga close your body staring him down with your dark eyes. "It's...literature." You pause, now averting your eyes as your face warms to a pink blush. "I...read it for fun, that's all."

"Oh..." He tilts his head after a moment of silence, "Why would anyone do that?"

"I HAVE OTHER HOBBIES THAN FIGHTING, JACKASS!" You snap again, energy flaring in your hostility despite the redness of your cheeks, making your master throw his arms up again defensively, somewhat shrinking away from you.

"Okay, okay! Sorry, I won't touch it anymore. Doesn't seem like my kind of thing anyways." He laughs more nervously this time, scratching at the back of his head unsure how to proceed to calm the atmosphere again. "Uh.. I guess I should have noticed it wasn't for fighting. I don't see how mashing your mouths together is gonna win a fight. " You shudder at his words, practically disgusted by his naivety. How in the hell was this one of the strongest warriors in all the known universes? Who refers to it as "mashing your mouths together"? You somewhat calm yourself after realizing he has no idea what he was looking through despite being left alone with it long enough to figure out. Honestly, it would be like explaining it to a child. A scrutinizing glare lingers on the larger saiyan's face making him waver just a little under your eyes, scratching a finger across his slightly pink cheek. "...What? Do I have something on my face?"

"...Goku." You straighten up, lowering your arms to your side with the book in hand.

"Y-yeah?"

"Have you...never kissed anyone before?"

His eyes widen a little more in their doe-like stare, innocence now present in his visage. "Kissing? What's that?"

You practically choke on your words as they all try to come out at once. "Y-You're kidding! Y-You're...You're married! With Kids!"

"Me? Married? I don't remember that. Oh, that's right. Chi Chi wanted me to be married to her a long time ago but I guess she got fed up with me and stopped asking me." He laughs once again, hand back on the back of his head.

You are frozen again in shock, the cogs are turning in your brain as you process and sum up the information you were given with a look similar to your Master's confused gape. The Saiyan Goku you know as your master is not married to Chi Chi? If time traveling and universe hopping had taught you anything it was that there were thousands of possibilities of how time flowed and it all kept a balance to their respective universe but what kind of timeline could occur in a universe where there is no Gohan or Goten? No one there to save Dende from Frieza's slaughtering henchman or defeat Cell in his perfect form? What becomes of the fusion technique if Goten is not there to fuse with Trunks and fight the evil Super Buu? How...could he have possibly achieve the Super Saiyan God form without them? You gasp, blinking yourself out of your trance. Is he just the strongest version of Goku? A version never anchored by family, who could train endlessly from master to master and only grow more powerful as time goes on. No wonder he's here teaching Time Patrollers how to harden their battle prowess and hone new techniques. It's an amazing thought, and frightening. "So-" You stepped closer, giving him the same look the demon Fu gave you before asking for some of your blood. "So you have never...kissed with anyone before? Not even as a reward for all the times you saved the world or cared enough about anyone to try it?!"

"Uhh...I guess not." He shrugs, guileless.

"Well..that doesn't excuse not knowing what it is! You saw Vegeta and Bulma at their wedding, didn't you?! Or...Old Man Roshi's magazines?" Kami, you hope that last part is a definite no. Your questions only seem to confuse your Master further and make him just a little bit uncomfortable with how close you were to him prying into his affairs like that. "Afraid not." He laughs, "I was actually dead when they got married. King Kai was busy training me in the Other World."

"....Oh." Is all you can say, backing off from him now. "That actually sounds very lonely of you." But it all made...some semblance of sense. Goku as you have come to know him has never seemed the type to be bothered by those kinds of things. A literal man child living out his dream of wanting to becoming stronger and fight the strongest out there with all his friends cheering him on. Same could be said for Vegeta but he has at least kissed his wife.

You take in this moment as you finally having something over your master who likes to rub it in how you need to become stronger to beat him in a real fight. Not with kissing! Though to be fair, your first kiss was a mistake on itself. When you really were a rookie Patroller out on a mission with others and you got slapped down hard by Perfect Cell into a Majin landing face to face, lip to lip as the yellow blob had surged forward to try to meet your impact and catch you only for it to end up like that and you both knocked down by the force of Cell's attack. It doesn't count, you continue to tell yourself, but in this case it could! You brush that off and smirk at Goku who is still looking more confused than ever. "Ha...So you're not the man I thought you were, Kakarot." You smugly say to the man you have deemed the strongest version of himself. A hand resting on your cocked hip, you jab a finger into his chest where it peaked out from the gi given to him by Whis. "No wonder you have all this free time to train."

The orange clad saiyan gives a childish pout at you. "How can you say that? Cut me some slack, I'm still a lot stronger than you." Here we go again.

"Tch- Well at least I have kissed someone before! And know what a kiss is!" You raise your voice back in the larger Saiyan's face, wearing your pride full on your sleeves.

"Well I don't see what the big deal is. It looks pretty strange to just do that to someone." Goku nonchalantly points out once again about what he's seen in your manga. How can he still seem so calm about it after seeing such an exaggerated version of it for the first time?

"People do it to feel good, Kakarot! It's suppose to make both people feel good!"

"Alright, Alright, I get it. Settle down now." He attempts to withdraw from riling you up even further, smiling innocently. "Wow.. Maybe someone should kiss you to make you feel good, huh?" Your face is pure red and your stun silent. You shrink away embarrassed he even had the nerve to say that. Here you were trying to get a rise out of him and he's managed to flip the script on you instead. Again! This was not how this was suppose to go. "Oh whatever!" You finally stammer out before slapping the book against his chest. It doesn't phase him, only making him laugh more.

"I'm sorry, (y/n). What can I do to make it up to you?" He asked, opened to what you suggest and oblivious to your wiles. Outside of combat, at least. But that was what made Saiyans such formidable foes. They treat everything like a battle. You eyeball him, measuring the depth of the suggestion. You did always want to learn the Dragon Fist or figure out how to unlock the Kaoiken while also in Super Saiyan form without burning out too much stamina so quickly. Those are off the table for now lest you explain to the Supreme Kai of Time and Trunks why you need a new home during a lockdown. Smiling like a scoundrel, you come up with the next best thing.

"Give me your first kiss."

"Oh, that's it?"

"What do you mean that's--?!" You cut yourself short and tuck your arms at your chest, attempting to keep your composure this time. "Yeah. It's the only way I'll forgive you." You move away from him and settle cross-legged in the open space on the carpeted floor, mimicking the same gesture he made earlier at you to sit down and eat, the open space in front of you awaiting his presence. He hesitates a little but then nods, walking over as well and sitting in front of you, crossed legs as well.

"O-Okay. So do I just-" Goku makes odd tilts of his head and soft motions forward as he looks at your face and try to figure out the perfect angle. You get the feeling he's going to just ram his mouth into yours like a headbutt and sigh, setting the manga to your side and taking his face in both hands. "Just let me. Close your eyes."

He obliges, the dark orbs disappear behind his eyelids as your thumbs gently stroke the skin underneath each eye. It should be nothing to just lean in and place a quick peck to his lips now, then rub that in his face as the woman who stole the first kiss of the Legendary Son Goku. But... you're not moving. A sensation in you chest pauses you. Nervousness. Your eyes scan over the surprisingly smooth skin of his face and how his messy spikes of hair frame it just right. He's so...calm about the whole thing. 'How does he keep doing this to me?!' You scream in your thoughts. 'He should be the one nervous about it, it's his first kiss! I have the upper hand here!' You gulp, blush decorating your face up to your ears as your fingers tremble a little against his head. You close your own eyes now, moistening your lips as they lightly puckered in preparation for contact. You move in a little, but you are unable to bring yourself all the way over or even pull him in closer to make the contact. The beat of your heart quickens in your chest and in your ears. Goku impatiently peaks open one of his eyes to look at you, seeing the redness paint across your features and the light tremble of your form. Even your tail twitching the behind you in a frantic manner. If only you could see how his own face started to glow with a pink color, but he smiles through it. He closes his eyes back and in your stead leans the rest of the way to meet your lips. The contact coming so unexpected to you made your eyes jolt open and your entire frame snatch back, surprising you and your Master. Your face could not get any redder than it was now as you held your mouth. "Uh...Did I do it right?" He finally asks reclining back into his upright position. Your insides are going crazy, the sensation when your lips met bouncing around inside like a wild ki blast. 'Say something', you urge yourself, 'Say something!'.

"T-That was f-fine." You speak behind your hand, trying to will your trembling to stop. That small touch electrified you all over. Even thinking about it speeds your heart again.

"Hmm...You don't look like you feel good." Goku adds with a tilt of his head, a little disappointed that maybe you were sparing his feelings and it didn't work at all. He's fine with moving past it if it doesn't mean anything. Again, you're cursing yourself at the outcome of how he keeps getting the better of you. This isn't training, you shouldn't be collapsing under something as stupid as a peck on the lips. Especially not to him! Even like this, he wins. He's brought something new to the table and utterly defeated you with it all over again, leaving you to gather yourself and come back later with a new angle to overcome him. Rinse and Repeat. It would seem you both still have a lot to learn from each other. You lower your eyes and finally remove your hand from your mouth. "Can...Can you try it again?" You ask in a tone foreign to you. Gentle, meek. Even your cheeks have lightened to a soft hue of pink, dark orbs lifting to find the large Saiyan's face. He blinks at you before giving an even more gentle nod and leans over again with his eyes closed as you instructed him before. He'll get it right this time! A little more daring, you inch closer, unraveling your legs and crawling forward on your hands to lessen the space between you both, allowing your eyes to drift close as you pressed your lips to his on your own and let yourself linger a little more this time. Your tail sways in deep, slow motions behind you, and you feel Goku's large hand brace your cheek as he leaned even closer to deepen the caress of your lips together. Your own lips part in a soft gasp as he presses more, a passive hum from you eaten by the kiss, electrifying your whole being all over again. This was what a real kiss felt like? It's way better than good. Finally you break away from the kiss, body shuddering at fresh air returning to your lungs and you look up only to see the sable hues of your Master staring back into yours. "Better?" His voice breaks through on an exhale. You can only nod before a breathy "More" escapes your mouth and you do not wait for him to position himself for it. You just take it, you take his mouth against yours and anchor yourself to his face with hands on either side of his jaw. So eager to have it send that energy dance up and down your spine and down into the lower regions of your body. It's like the build up of a ki blast without the payoff of releasing it. But you're still trying, you gotta get there. You try to pull away for air again, but the larger saiyan's hands now gather you up from your knees and pulls you into his lap, pressing further to keep your mouths close. Your hands can only wrap around his neck to steady yourself as you straddle upon him. You take a page from your filthy reads and draw your tongue across his bottom lip, however you feel his body tense against yours making you pull back from the kiss. You make eye contact again, chests heaving together in out of sync rhythms.

"H-Hey, you did that thing like in your book." He notes, making you grin as your hands rested on his shoulders. He's seen more of it than you thought.

"Did you like it?" You ask, almost growling it out. That sound you made suppressed the innocent gleam in his eyes and something more foreboding had taken its place. His tone dropped an octave to a sinful purr when he opened his mouth again. "Yeah.." Your thighs squeezed around him as the sound rang in your ears and straight to your loins. It's like he is speaking to you in his fury, that dangerous tone he took up whenever he transformed into any of his Super Saiyan Forms. You practically drooled over it, your saiyan blood knew there was something powerful behind it and you were prepared to drown in it. "I can do it aga-" Your voice, entranced by the shift in the energy is eaten by the Orange clad saiyan's kiss again and you can only hum deliriously accepting his embrace. Melting into it. Thank Kami, you did not remind him of the North Kai's planet. Only Goku could learn a new trick and adapt to it in record time like this and leave you on cloud nine with just a kiss. You hate him for it. He is not suppose to have this kind of control over you, Trainer or not. But you get the feeling this is going both ways. He can't seem to take enough of you in his hands either. His kiss has become so greedy but his hands remain so chaste. You feel them at the small of your back just above where your tail jutted out and pushing up to your shoulder blades as your equally wild hair tickles at his knuckles, smoothing over the fabric of your training gi as he squeezes your shoulders. Meanwhile all you have of him in your hands is his firm skin stretched across these tone muscles. Your hands had long slipped down into the collar of his top and gripped upon the bulging ripples of his back while caressing the back of his neck as he devoured your mouth. It's not enough to keep going like this. You withdraw your hands from his flesh to reach in between you both and tug at the knot holding his entire outfit together. "W-..Wait." He manages to speak against your lips in his normal tone before pulling back much to your reluctance slow down, but he takes hold of both your hands to pause you. "What are you doing?" How do you answer that? chest bouncing in short pants, you manage to put your brain back together and swallow to moisten the inside of your mouth again to give an answer.

"I thought you wanted to..you know..."

"Know.. what?"

God damn it, Kakarot. You stare at him in disbelief but you only have yourself to blame this time. Of course the man who didn't know what kissing was had any idea to where it leads. You sympathize with the Chi Chi of his timeline and praise her for quitting while she was ahead. You reach behind you and pick up the manga once again, opening it up to a random page displaying the ol' razzle dazzle before shoving it into his face.

"--Wrestle!" You emphasized. You feel him tense against you again as a meek "o-oh" sounds from behind the book. He laughs nervously once you lower it from his vision, goofy face brightened with blush.

"I-I don't know how to do that either!" He stammers out in his goofy tone. There is nothing but a deadpan stare at him from you. You can already see your hands wrapping around his thick neck and squeezing with the full force of your might for him rousing you up like this without any satisfaction to follow. But you know it's not his fault. You sigh instead and run your hands across your face trying to put it in words he would understand. "You like kissing, don'tcha?" You ask. lowering your hands from your face. He nods without hesitation, leaning against you some as if expecting this to lead back to it. "This will feel 100 times better. Kissing..is just a part of it. And it's call "sex", not wrestling...sometimes. Or... "love-making"..."Intercourse"..."Breedin-" No." Now you're nervously scratching at your cheek, thinking of all the innuendos for the act that may better suit his vocabulary. "...-Going to a level beyond kissing." Nailed it. Goku silently nods again.

"I get it now. Then...I trust you know what you're doing if...you want to go beyond kissing with me, (y/n)" He raises your hand to his mouth and kisses your knuckles, face darkening in his blush as he watches you and leans down to kiss the side of your mouth. You can't help but wonder if he was torn between planting that on your lips or your cheek, but its...adorable all the same. "Of course," You answer, pressing your forehead to his as your hands rested upon his chest again. "Master." You feel his eyebrow furrow at that.

"That made it weird." He utters and lifts his head from yours. You roll your eyes and look off in thought before looking back at him. "...Goku." He grins at that and wraps his arms around you again, resting his chin on your shoulder before burying his face there to keep your hair from tickling his nose. Your entire body shudders at that new touch of him there. Your hands, now free to continue where they left off, are back at the blue knot and with less fumbling from a clearer mind. You draw it through all its loops once its undone and pry open the cloth, lightly nudging him to release you just enough to slip it off his shoulders and remove it all together. There is it, all those muscles you could't wait to beat your fist into now traced over with your fingers. The body of the strongest man you know, and it's perfect. Not so much as a scar on him. You take his hands this time and bring it over to the knot that held your training gi together, sitting back in his lap and waiting for his hands to go to work. He blinks a few times, but follows through and unties the knot, leaving the sash to hang on either side of you. You rock your own shoulders a bit to knock it free of your body and slip your hands out, taking his hands again and placing them just above your breasts. Encouraging fingers urge him to peel down the strapless fabric supporting your chest. Each breast bounces free once the fabric sits tight around your torso and you lean forward against him, bare chest to bare chest as you meet his lips again, one hand wrapped around his back to hold you close. Goku is tense all over, you can feel it in the way he flexes his muscles against you. You know he is desperate for the same purchase you want but not quite sure how to get there. This wasn't something he could just power up and blast a powerful ki wave to relieve. It's a whole new technique he's going to have to allow his body to fall into. There is small jut in his hips that brush your thigh when you settle a little closer, and your free hand couldn't wait to grab the length of it making the large saiyan flex suddenly again. A sharp sound within the kiss from him makes you tremble with excitement. You already have a handful of him and it doesn't feel like you're anywhere near the base of length yet. Trying to remain mindful of his experience, you gently stroke against the tent of his pants,

His hands are squeezing you biceps now, more to support himself under the sudden ministrations and he raises his head from the kiss to take a breath he desperately needed, his head remains tilted back as more of those sweet sounds fell out of his throat. You attacked him there next, drawing your tongue along the muscles there before pressing firm pecks up to his jaw. Your teeth scrape at his skin as well, slowing your motions around his hard length to drag out the pleasure for him only to be met with jerks of his hips for more contact. "Look at me, Goku." You instruct him in your growl, his head lowering to meet your gaze. You can see the haze of his stare. He's a mess, putty in your hands already from just a little touching. "Does it feel good?" You ask, that scoundrel smirk on your face again. He opens his mouth to answer but your give him a squeeze, an indecent cry falling out instead. The muscle throbs in your small hand and you figure you better get this over with before he loses it. Letting go, you give his hip a pat to encourage him to lift up enough to pull his pants and underwear down, him taking the moment to adjust his legs from their crossed position and instead lay out flat in front of him, He removes his own hands from you, bracing them both on either side of him to support him up now. You take this opportunity to stand with your legs on each side of him and undo the draw string of your own training pants, slipping it and your underwear off and kicking them over, not wasting a moment as you lowered yourself back into his lap. Your eyes narrow on his exposed cock, it had more to it then your hand made you believe. Your finger slides across the tip and find some pre-cum shine on its surface, using your thumb now to smear even more to slick the skin from tip to base, all it's muscles throbbing at the direct contact of your hand. Goku's head lulls back on its own weight trying to endure as much as this as he could. To be so sensitive, you can only imagine he has never actually masturbated before, either. Truly, Goku is a pure soul. "Watch me." You tell him, languidly his head roll back up as a stream of drool slips down his chin. You lift yourself up on your knees to position yourself above him and steady yourself with a hand against his chest, the other wrapped just under the head of his length. You lower yourself enough to feel the head spread your wet lips a some, circling it against your clit and entrance to mix your weeping sex with the drip of his. You press it against you more only to slide down the side of his length, grinding your hips against his fullness a few times much to his torture. You had to hold it still to keep it from bouncing away from you before you pushed the head against your entrance again, this time allowing it to spread your lips and enter. You are barely containing yourself at his lament, finding it harder to watch you as you told him. You are a good ways down his cock before your body refuses to take anymore for now. "S-See...Beyond kissing." The Saiyan male managers to stare down at where you are connected as you slide your hands around his shoulders and balance yourself on your knees to drag your hips into his length, drawing back enough to slide him out and take a little bit more of him inside when taking him back in.

You set a pace to settle into with him, slow and tasteful stroke of your insides around him, wanting to pull more of him inside with each descend upon his hot thickness but such purchase needed to be worked up to. You embraced his head to the underside of your jaw, fitting his face in the crook of your neck as he tried to muffle himself against your skin. Your chin pressed into his hair, indulgent gasps from you breaks the rhythm you set as they fed into his lust. A few abrupt jerk of his hips becomes a pattern of quick, shallow thrusts that easily moved in and out of you. He's getting it now. Goku lurches forward and grabs your hips to still you enough to allow him to compose himself for a moment, long enough to pick up his own pace again. He pushes down on your hips to meet his thrusts and you feel the delicious graze of his tip at that sweet spot making you moan out, your core clenching around him in excited twitches for more. Before you knew it your skin was slapping against his as he could now bury himself deep inside of you. You had all but lost control of it now to the harmony of his moans and yours, the unsteadiness of him plunging into you in a mix of wanting to have you more for himself but hold out for you to feel good too, and then that lewd slick sound of your sex entwined with his. He's so thick inside you, the way his cock opens you up to accommodate his size and consistently knocks against your core, the desperation of his thrusts was pushing you to brink of your pleasure. You moved your legs to wrap around him now, trying to brace your heels against the floor to support his motions. A part of you is still waiting for that depraved side of him to creep back up on you, that enticed look he had in his eyes when he couldn't stop kissing you, and the vexing low tone he had. Instead, the large saiyan ruts himself into a frenzy of pumps before pausing deep inside, flush against your sweet spot as he spilled himself inside you. Your insides ate it up, mouth gaping as you are left gasping for breath and all of you clenched down around him to draw out more of his seed.

Goku moves your feet and lies back as you fall over with him, your own hips still slowly moving to ride out your own orgasm. You are equally heavy and weightless on his heaving chest, but his arms do not release you. You sit up enough to attack his mouth with your own, once again drawing your tongue against his lips and he does not shy away this time, letting you tongue slip inside and tease his to play with. He is so obsessed with you in this moment, cradling your head to his to return the kiss with matching vigor. You had already spent yourselves but still held so much passion in your actions. Of course, its not over yet. Goku shifts his legs beneath you, feet planting firmly into the carpet for leverage as his hands once again take hold of your waist much to your surprise. Against the half-hearted roll of your hips still riding the high of your orgasm, you can feel his pace pick up again. He's still hard inside you, thrusts now ravenous and unyielding in this new angle. You both just came, but he's already back in it. You haven't yet recovered from your first orgasm either, all of his movements are more intense and overstimulating. You cry out into your open mouth kiss, trying to will yourself through the euphoric agony as he continued. Your insides were so saturated with him, you know he was spilling out of you, that warmth trickling down to his balls and making your connection sound all the more lewder. He's wrestled control of your body now and looping your hips to meet his thrusts while your insides continue to twitch around him, building up all over again so soon. "G- Ah!..Go-" You can't even speak, pressing your forehead into his chest now as your toes curl in and hands clench at his skin. And then..there it is..

"Look at me, (y/n)" That merciless octave commands you in his own winded breath. "I-I...I wanna see you this time." Sweet Kami, you are a total wreck now. Your orgasm washes over you much more powerfully and hits you so quick this time you can barely process it taking over you. Before you can even raise your head to see his face, you are limp against his chest. Drunk on your pleasure. Goku uses a finger to lift your chin up, easily balancing the weight of your head to look at the smutty expression as you savored his ravenous assault on our core. Your blurry vision sees him smirk, the dark fade in his eyes weakening you more to the bliss of his hips still smacking into yours. You wish he would relent for just a moment but you're stuck in his wiles now. "Does it feel good?" The Powerful Saiyan asks huskily, compelling you to let out a meek sob in place of a yes. His second orgasm wasn't far behind yours, clenching your hips again as your chin fell back into his chest and he rode out this one with you, more of his cum filling you abused insides again.

#goku x reader #goku imagine #goku dbz #goku dbs #dragon ball z #dragon ball super #xenoverse 2 #my writing

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ask-de-writer · 4 years ago

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 34 of 83 : World of Sea

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 34 of 83

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

written 2007

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story? Read from the beginning. PART 1 is here

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Chapter 11: Selection

Captain Mord, Kurin and a delegation of the Longin’s Craft Masters set out for the Council Pavilion several hours after sunrise. Their large gig was overtaken by Captain Sula and Captain Huld in a long, narrow, very fast rowing boat. Sula was pulling her own oars, and Huld was steering.

In a disgustingly cheerful voice, she called out to them, “What ho, Longin! Have you decided what to do? Is there aught that I can do for you?”

“Be with us as a voice of reason,” replied Captain Mord. “At least you have been able to talk the Council into sanity.”

“Will do!” she answered cheerily, and bent her back to the oars. Her boat quickly disappeared into the throng about the market platforms.

Shortly, the Longin’s delegation was standing before a packed Council, Sula and Huld at their side. The news that the Longin might be opening up Ship’s Business had spread. There was a loud babble of voices that slowly settled down, when Captain Mord raised his hand for attention.

“Yesterday, I said that I would counsel my crew to open up some of our Ship’s Business. They have agreed to do so.”

There was a loud murmur of delight among the assembled Captains.

Mord held up his hands for silence again. “We find the fish by means of special charts, prepared by the Dragon’s Daughter, in connection with our past fishing catch records. She will make charts for your waters, too.” He was interrupted by a loud rumble of approval. Once again he sought silence so that he could proceed. “Her skilled services are not instant, nor are they free. You may inquire of the Craft Masters with me about the cost.” This was met with outright hostility.

“Your charts didn’t cost you anything! Why should we pay?” was about the gentlest reaction. Some were much ruder.

Captain Sula raised her hands for silence, and when she didn’t get it, she picked up a Council bench, dumping Captain Barad unceremoniously to the floor. She ripped a leg off the stool and smashed it against the seat with a loud report. Seeing what she had done, and knowing that few of them had the strength to do it, the rambunctious Captains quieted.

“Their charts were most certainly not free!” she exclaimed. “What would you charge for the completely dedicated use of any of your ships, from one full Wohan to the next? Come, come, give me a reasonable figure. Assume that your ship does nothing in all those weeks but sail under the direction of the cartographer?”

That put a different light on things, and gave them something actual to work with. They began figuring. Discussion ran rampant, and Sula let it. This was constructive work going on.

They answered at last, through Sarfin, Captain of the Dorton, and present leader of the Council, “We are agreed on the value of such a voyage. It comes to 2,600 Strong Skins.”

“Now,” smiled Sula, “you yourselves have set the value of such charts for three home waters. That is how long it took the Longin to make her charts. Expensive? Yes. Paid off? In the Longin’s case, nearly, and in only half a Gathering. Some may take longer, some may be quicker. It will depend on what the charts reveal. I would call it a good risk. Talk to the Longin’s Masters. They have more to say.”

Mord took over again, with a serious face. “We intend to reveal the next part, which is connected to the charts and the exploiting of them. It is a skill of accurate dead reckoning navigation that works in fog or cloudy weather, day or night. This will require an act of the Council. We mean to set up a school for such navigation and certify the navigators through the Council.

“Before any Captain offers debate, we will give a demonstration. Take Bron, one of our cabin boys, and a good pupil, by Kurin’s account, one day’s sail in a small boat, in any direction from here. Let him be blindfolded from before he leaves here, until he gets back. To be sure, follow him in another boat and observe him at all times.”

The demonstration was agreed to. Bron was taken out and put adrift in a small boat, with rations and water, and followed by another small boat, also under sail. At some points, Bron took turnings that mystified his followers until they got caught in the tidal currents that he was avoiding or taking advantage of. He brought both boats unerringly back to the Gathering.

Kurin spent that night and all of the free time that she could staying with Captain Sula aboard the Dark Dragon. Together they visited and talked with many of the Dark Dragon’s Craft Masters in their shops. Everywhere that Kurin looked she saw the vertical lines of what she now realized were a form of writing. Aboard the ship, almost no person went unhooded and those few were all newly recruited and being educated in the Dark Dragon’s ways. Everyone communicated with a sign language unless they had both hands full or there was some other reason.

She even saw the ship’s children, all hooded like their parents carrying daggers and axes. When they sat, using big cushions instead of chairs, they often read from books with the same odd writing in them. Many of the children’s books also had pictures.

The Dark Dragon’s many shops held Kurin spellbound.

The next morning, Barad descended the gang-way to the temporary floating dock beside the Grandalor. He smiled to Tanlin and said, “First Officer Tanlin, on the shelf in our quarters is a sail-sewing kit. We have done with assessing the changes to it. Would you take care of it, please?”

“At once, Ca’tain,” she replied, glad of the duty to destroy the noxious thing.

Barad went to the Captain’s Council. Now I can begin to splice the cables between Grandalor and Longin, he thought as he was rowed to the rafts of the Gathering.

Tanlin descended the companion-ladder near the cabin that she shared with Barad. In the passageway, she met Silor.

“‘Ello, Lad. Oi ‘ope t’at ye donnae mind t’ muckle t’at ye are an errand boy, for now,” she said pleasantly.

“No Ma’am, I don’t mind doing errands,” he answered seriously. “It gives me the chance to meet the Masters and officers as well as learn the layout of the Grandalor. Also, I know that I have to be kept out of sight for the present.”

“T’at’s good. Ca’tain Barad wa’ right about ye bein’ quick. Many wad chafe at t’e necessity. W’at errand are ye about, now?” Silor visibly stood straighter at her praise.

“Mister Morgu sent for me. I’ve an errand for his office. It’s just down here, isn’t it?” He pointed further down the passage.

“Tis, t’ird door t’ t’e left. Oi’ll nae hold ye, t’en. Good morning t’ ye.”

“And to you, Lady Tanlin.”

She slid aside her door and went into the Captain’s cabin. As she got the kit, she noticed, Barad must ‘ave been lookin’ at ‘t. Tis nae square on t’e shelf. Tucking it under her arm, she went the familiar way to the sickbay.

Doctor Corin was busy at the apothecary cabinet when she arrived. The sickbay was otherwise empty, so Tanlin raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

The Doctor gestured at the dozen parchment packages that he was preparing and explained, “Stomach cures for the crew who over do it at the food booths.”

“Oi see. Just bein’ prepared. Wise. Take care o’ t’is for us, will ye?” She handed him the kit.

“Is the spine that the Captain mentioned in the Standing Orders in here?” he asked.

“We t’ink t'is, Doctor. We just found ‘t,” she said easily.

“I’ll dispose of it properly as soon as I have these powders done,” he said, relieved to see the kit unused. “That thing is a danger to us all, so long as it exists.”

“Oi leave ‘t t’ ye, Doctor. M’ t’anks — — for evert’ing. Oi’ll be in t’e mess. ‘Elmsmon’s meeting. Let m’ know w’en tis dune.”

“I’ll do that,” he replied, turning back to his powders.

In the mess, Tanlin handed out tallow-slates and copies of a small book to the assembled helmsmen. It appeared to have been hastily produced.

“What’s this?” asked Kreul.

“Ye’re ‘elmsmon, Secund Day Wotch, Kreul, aren’t ye?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Well, Kreul,” she said in the tone of a lecturer, “yer quest’n’s a valid ane. Tis an intellectual exercise. T’e Forst Officers are going t’ study t’is manual as well. Ye all know t’at t’e Ca’tain ‘as an interest in t’e Boren Current Wars. We got t’is manual from t’e Soaring Bird’s boot’. T’ey an’ t’e Dark Dragon fought in t’ose wars. T'is knowledge t’at naebody else in t’e Naral fleet ‘as ever studied. Wit’ luck, nane will ever need ‘t ‘ere. So, wye study ‘t? T’e Ca’tain wants us t’. Good enow?”

It was. The four helmsmen and two helmswomen bent over the book and read the title page.

The Strategy and Tactics of War

Sula Corin Dark Dragon

Commissioned by order of the Combined

Councils of Captains and Masters of the Corliss fleet.

“Ma’am, I’m Darkistry, Third Night Watch. We’ll study this if the Captain wants us to but Dragons grant that we never need something like this.”

“Darkistry, ye are curiously close t’ t’e opening paragraph o’ t’is book.” Tanlin picked it up and opened it, reading aloud.

“T’e necessity o’ t’e knowledge t’at t’e Councils ‘ave ordered m’ t’ write ‘as been proven by t’e attacks o’ t’e Boren fleet upon us. Dragons grant t’at t’is, o’ all knowledge, be left on dry land for lack o’ necessity in t’e future.”

She laid the book aside and said seriously, “T’e date places t’is book at t’e end o’ t’e Forst Boren Current War. T’e knowledge ‘ere,” she laid her hand on the book, “preserved t’e Corliss fleet in t’e next twa wars.”

“Did ye know,” her eyes swept the six, “t’at t’ere are times wen t’e ‘elmsmon’s orders override anybody but t’e Ca’tain ‘imsel’? We’ll skip t’e strategy section. Read ‘t on yer ane, i’ ye find ‘t interesting.

“Macoul, read t’ us from t’e start o’ part twa, Tactical Considerations.”

Macoul picked up his copy and leafed through to the place indicated. He began, “The helmsman’s duty is defined by the Maximum/Minimum Rule. Cause Maximum damage to enemy craft while allowing Minimum damage to his own ship. This may be accomplished by …”

Doctor Corin interrupted, “I’m sorry, Lady Tanlin. I must speak to you privately.”

“O’ course, Doctor.” Turning to her left, she handed her underlined copy of Strategy and Tactics of War and her tallow-slates of notes to the startled woman there. “Darkistry, will ye take over t’e meeting for m’? Somet’ing ‘as come up t’at demands m’ attention elsew’ere.”

After her initial surprise, Darkistry simply said, “Continue, Macoul.”

Macoul’s soft voice followed the Doctor and Tanlin into the passage way. As soon as they were private, she asked urgently, “W’at’s t’e alarm, Doctor?” though she had a sinking feeling that she knew.

Wordless, he held out the awl from the kit that she had given him. The red test paste on its shaft reveled that it was not Ord.

“T’e case?” she asked quietly.

“Also uncontaminated,” he replied grimly.

“T’ey’ve been switched!” She exclaimed in outrage. Putting her hand to her forehead, she thought, Silor in t’e passage by t’e Ca’tain’s door. Morgu … She looked up, terrible in her rage. “Tis mutiny! Bot’ Standin’ an’ General Orders’re bein’ violated!

TO BE CONTINUED

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#SEA DRAGON’S GIFT #Part 34 of 83 #World of Sea #Written by De Writer

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midzelink · 5 years ago

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"#listen i know exactly how these two meet and how they start dating and it's beautiful and i LOVE THEM" Please tell me everything!

(( in reference to the tags I made on this Ilia x Ashei art ))

HOO, BOY, OKAY - where to begin? A lot of this is going to be stuff that I didn’t really want to make a post about, because my hopes were that I would eventually write their meeting and eventual dating into a multi-chapter fic of sorts (called “Love & Horses,” and there’s good reason for that, I swear), but I struggle with writing enough as-is, and by the time I do (if ever) get around to it, this post will absolutely be lost to time - so, what the heck! Lemme gush a little bit. Some of this I’ve already written about in the description of this wedding piece I had commissioned, but I’ll expand on it a bit here. (Also, shoutout to @therealflurrin for inspiring a lot of this - we somehow fell in love with these two independently of one another, which just goes to show how much potential these two have. Spread the Iliashei love!)

So, what’s important to understand about Ashei (and this is all just my headcanon, of course) going into this is that she was raised alone by her father in the Hebra Mountains, with very sparse and sporadic human contact outside of him. As she says in-game, he was a “knight in his own right,” and he “taught [her] the arts of war as though [she] was his son” - he taught her how to wield a sword, but unfortunately for her, that was pretty much all he taught her. He was a troubled man haunted by the ghosts of his past, perhaps, but he was a terrible father, and when Ashei was only fifteen years old she bested him in battle and ran away from home. She was on her own for quite some time, surviving in the harsh wilderness of the frozen wilds, but she did so aimlessly; all she had was her sword, and with nowhere else to turn, she eventually found her way to Hyrule proper, choosing to enlist as a knight solely because she would have a roof over her head and some money in her pocket. She was only sixteen at the time - she lied and told them she was twenty - and when she bested every captain in the entire royal guard in a single evening, they agreed to take her in.

Another important thing to note is that Ashei’s arrival in Castle Town (and one particular encounter with Princess Zelda herself, but that’s a story for another time) awakens The Gay within her; she’s never really been around so many people before, let alone women her own age. This has some interesting side effects, namely that Ashei has no idea how to talk to or behave around women, and it plays into the first time she and Ilia (improperly) meet.

So, picture this: a short time after the events of the game, Ilia travels back to Castle Town to visit Telma, whom she bonded following her kidnapping and memory loss. Ashei is sitting in the bar, sipping on some ale, and she hears someone come in and begin chatting; she thinks nothing of it, of course, until she takes a quick little peak -

- and sees the most drop-dead gorgeous person she has ever seen in her entire life.

She panics. Face goes completely red, she hides her face in her hand, nearly drops her ale. Her fight her flight instincts kick in, and she chooses flight, rushing out of the bar before the girl can even notice her, let alone speak to her - and though it’s a few days before she can get the image of her out of her head, eventually things go back to normal, and Ashei finds comfort in the fact that she’ll probably never see that mystery girl again.

Except, y’know - she does. Because of course she does.

Fast forward a bit, Hyrule Castle is a still a mess of being rebuilt, and the people need something to keep their spirits up - so Zelda is like, f**k it! Dance time! An outdoor ball, in the afterglow of twilight, with food and live music and all what have you. Ashei attends in a full set of royal armor, complete with helm and all the fixings, as she’s only there on guard duty, but just as soon she thinks the night is going to end without incident, who do you think she sees sitting all alone, and does she looks slightly sad or is that a trick of the light, and oh my gods that dress is lovely, was it handmade, did she make it, and what are the chances she would see her again -

Ashei is still quite flustered, of course - only this time it’s different, because here, she isn’t herself. Here, she’s just a nameless solider among many - she could be anybody - and somehow, someway, she musters up her courage to approach the young woman…and offers her hand in dance.

And I think now would be a good time to talk about Ilia’s side of things; we know a lot more about her story, of course, but it’d probably be good to mention that, yes, she did love Link - and perhaps, once upon a time, he could have loved her, too, but after everything that happened, he was unable to readjust to life back in Ordon, and as we see in the final credits, he leaves, in a scene that tells us almost certainly that he only said goodbye to her. Ilia goes through quite a lot both during the game and in the months after; romance aside, Link has always been her closest friend, and suddenly he’s so distant from her. It’s difficult to handle, and as she watches him leave after a few months of struggling with this, with no idea of when or if he’ll return, I guess you could say that she fell out of love out of necessity; he was, and always will be, a very dear friend to her, but the weight of what had happened to both of them had changed them, and their relationship would never be exactly the same as it once was. It pains her - but she accepts it, and moves on.

So, Link is AWOL for a while, yeah? Ilia has a lot going through her mind, and like Ashei did before she found a good friend in Shad and a makeshift home in the Resistance, she feels aimless. On top of that, she’s still dealing with the trauma that being kidnapped had saddled her with, and what sticks with her the most is how helpless she felt waiting for someone else to save her. Then wouldn’t you know, one day she gets a letter from Telma inviting her to festivities to be held in Castle Town, and Ilia makes up her mind about something. She packs up her things…and sets off.

The night of the festival, Ilia does take the hand of that mysterious stranger - and as they dance it’s wonderful and magical and lovely and for a time she forgets all of her troubles, but before she can see their face or even learn their name they’re gone, leaving her wanting and curious. Some time passes, and the festivities come to and end; Ilia makes for Telma’s Bar, where Shad, Ashei, and Auru are unwinding from the night’s events. Telma introduces the younger woman to the gang, and Ashei almost begins to panic, before she realizes that Ilia would have no way of recognizing her, that Telma was just introducing them to a friend, that this would pass and be done with in no time at all, but then -

“I want to join the Resistance!”

And Ashei is just like,

Ah.

Ah, shit.

This post is getting rather long, so I’m gonna try to wrap things up here - but as you can imagine, hijinks ensue! Things reach a climax when Ilia insists that Ashei teach her how to fight, and Ashei lashes out and flat-out refuses in a burst of anger, which triggers an episode of “oh my god am I turning into my father oh f**k no” and sends her running, truly panicking this time; Ilia runs after her, of course, and when she finally finds her they get to talking. Ilia tells her that whatever it is that’s bothering her, she doesn’t have to open up about it now, or tomorrow, or any time soon, but if she ever wants to, she will be there to listen - and then Ilia opens up, about why she joined the Resistance, about her kidnapping and her scars and the horror she’s endured. She chooses to be vulnerable where Ashei cannot, and then suddenly the mood is lighter, and Ashei is sheepishly admitting that she couldn’t teach her how to fight because she likes her too much, gods be damned, and Ilia is joking about how she never knew she liked girls till now because there were none her age growing up in Ordon, and Ilia thought Ashei liked Shad and Ashei thought Ilia liked Link, except Shad doesn’t like women and Ashei doesn’t like men and Link has been gone for months now, and oh, aren’t they both so stupid - and then they hear music, and Ilia stands and offers Ashei her hand, and in that moment both of them know, y’know? Ashei still has a lot of stuff she’s got to work through, and it’s not going to be easy by any means, but for now, she can do this much - so she takes Ilia’s hand and the two of them dance into the night, pushing aside their worries till morning’s light.

Do the two of them start dating pretty much immediately? Yes. Do they love one another completely and utterly? Absolutely. Do they get married and is their wedding super, duper gay? You bet your ass it is.

There’s a lot more to this that I won’t get into here, including Link’s eventual return (after three years of being away!) and the aftermath of that, and the exact specifics of Ashei’s troubled history with her father and how being with Ilia helps her to heal from it. On the plus side, Bo becomes like the father that Ashei never had, and fun fact: the two like the arm wrestle! Like, a lot! (And Ashei sometimes lets him win.)

#twilight princess #loz tp #loz #iliashei #ashei #also thanks for asking!#getting this outta my system was really therapeutic!#anonymous #asks #my asks #ilia #bezu #headcanons #stupid post tag #myposts*

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rebelminxy · 5 years ago

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Too Bright to See, Too Loud to Hear (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Dina (OFC)

Word Count: 2940

Rating: Teen

Warnings: None

Square Filled: Inias

A/N: This series is meant for my squares for @heavenandhellbingo. I have been putting my all into it and I hope you will enjoy it as much as I have been writing it. Please like, repost and comment on anything you would like to say about it and seriously hope you have a great time reading this. Ratings will depend on what is in each chapter so please read the warnings before continuing. Images are not mine, they were found on Google and Pinterest.

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It was the day after the wedding and Sam was outside sparring with Dean in the early morning.

“So, assuming you are out here this early means you and the wife didn’t enjoy each other's company last night,” Dean teased with a huff as their swords crossed.

“You know we aren’t sharing a bed,” Sam bit back as he dodged his brother’s swing.

“Well, if you don’t end up doing your husbandly duties, I wouldn't mind taking that job off your hands,” Dean chuckled as he blocked Sam’s attack, receiving a kick in the stomach.

“That is my wife you’re talking about,” Sam said with a smile as he watched his brother roll on the ground in pain.

“Damn, any lower and you would put me out of commission with the ladies of the court.”

“Then don’t toy with the idea of warming your bed with my wife,” Sam chuckled as he helped his brother up. “I thought about what you and Ellen said yesterday, and with time, I may be able to live a civil life with Dina, maybe decide when we will keep each other company when it's time for an heir.”

“Brother, I can only hope that you one day give me a niece or nephew to spoil with riches.”

The brothers laughed as they put their swords away, heading up to the castle for breakfast. Once they were close, they noticed Castiel standing by the portal’s entrance, as if he was waiting for something.

“What’s the angel doing?” Dean asked curiously.

“Not sure. Let’s go find out.”

As the brothers ran towards Castiel, the light of the portal opening shined brightly. Sam and Dean halted, covering their eyes from the brightness. As they watched with their eyes shielded, they saw a group of men and women exit the portal, all dressed in white like the guards from yesterday, but their armor had gold patterns decorating it. The group came through with two chests being held by four members each. Once they were all through, the portal closed off, the bright light disappearing. It was a group of about 14 angels, one standing at the very front. The man got down onto one knee and bowed before Castiel.

As Sam and Dean got closer, they overheard the kneeling angel speak to Castiel.

“Prince Castiel, we have arrived with everything you have asked for. Lady Anna has sent her blessings to Princess Dina and her regards to you since the King has assigned her over to a new garrison.”

“My father did not tell me of Anna reassignment,” Castiel stated, his eyes narrowing.

“The order was sent out today before our departure by High Prince Michael himself.”

The brothers watched as Castiel rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“What about the other garrisons promised to come to help us?”

“High Prince Michael told us they will be joining once the humans are ready to fight.”

“Well, then, we will make do with what we have. We have little time and an army of humans to train on how to use these weapons and kill demons.”

“We know how to kill demons, we just need your help and weapons to make things easier,” Dean interrupted, standing tall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Everyone, this is Prince Dean Winchester. He also is the commander of this army we will be assisting.”

At that moment, all the angels stood at attention, saluting Dean in respect. Dean saluted back and gave them the signal to ease. He walked up to Castiel and they stared at each other, the air filled with dominance.

“My men know how to deal with demons, we have been fighting them for years. It was your father who came up with the idea of helping us to end this godforsaken war.”

“And how many men have you lost throughout this war?” Castiel pushed back. “With us and our weapons, lives won’t be lost.”

“And you think you and your 14 here will train a bunch of men that only know bloodshed?”

“I think, if you two play fair, angels and humans can unite to end this once and for all.”

Everyone turned to see Dina standing there with a bright smile on her face. Sam looked her up and down, confused in her attire. She was wearing a white male shirt tucked inside a pair of pants that fit her perfectly, showing off the shape Sam suspected was under the dress from yesterday. She wore a pair of worn off boots and her long hair was tied back, exposing her beauty even more.

“Dina, I told you to leave those clothes behind,” Castiel complained as he walked over to his sister.

“They are comfortable and perfect for training,” she replied back.

Dina then looked over to the group of angels and her eyes went wide with joy, bursting into a run as the man that Castiel spoke to got up from his kneeling position.

“Inias!” Dina exclaimed, throwing her arms around the man as he lifted her into his arms.

Sam watched as they laughed, the man turning in circles with her in his arms. Dean raised an eyebrow at the show of affection from Dina as Castiel joined the group again. Once the angel called Inias let Dina go, he grabbed her hands and kissed each of them. That’s when Sam grabbed Dina by the arm and pulled her away.

“What is your problem?!” Dina exclaimed, looking up at Sam in anger.

“You are a married woman now, and the only man that can touch you in such a way is your husband.”

“Forgive me, Prince Samuel,” Inias begged. “I am at fault for doing so. You see, Dina and I are very good friends and well, we have never had reasons to hide our affections towards each other.”

“Not helping,” Dean muttered.

“What he means,” Dina insisted. “Inias and I are only good friends. He and I have never seen each other more than that and never will. Inias is the only one outside my circle of brothers, that I feel comfortable having any sibling affection with.”

Sam looked between Dina and Inias before letting her arm go.

“Just make sure my father doesn’t see you two, or he will think up things.”

Dina smiled up at Sam, her eyes glowing a bit. Sam nodded his head to her and looked up at Dean.

“If we are going to end this war, we need to set aside our differences. Angels have watched us from above, as we have been surviving here below. As of right now, there is no difference between angels and humans, we are men and women trying to do what's best for our empires. So, Dean and Castiel, find a way to work together and soon. Because you and your garrison will be marked today just like Dina was for your protection.”

The angels looked at Castiel with confusion, Inias looking at Dina.

“Marked?” he asked cautiously.

“It’s only a seal to make sure no demon would possess our body. Isn’t much,” she clarified as she pulled down the edge of her shirt, showing the seal on her skin.

Sam was quick to lift her shirt up and pull her away towards the castle, leaving everyone else to their deals. He guided her all the way to the seamstress hall, receiving a few complaints from Dina. Once they reached the seamstress, Sam spoke to her about arranging a few shirts for Dina that fit her much better than the loose, almost exposing everything shirt she was currently wearing.

“My shirt is fine, no one cared in Heaven,” Dina complained.

“Well, here on Earth, exposing yourself is frowned upon,” Sam answered back.

The seamstress had Dina behind a curtain for measurements while they talked, Sam sitting right in front of the curtain with his back turned to avoid seeing anything. The seamstress had just exited from behind the curtain with Dina’s shirt when Dina spoke up.

“What about the dancers and whores? They expose themselves to everyone?”

Sam shot up to give Dina a glare but regretted it immediately. Dina stood there bare naked, pants a pile on the floor. She was examining her mark in the mirror before her, not knowing Sam was looking at her exposed flesh. Before she could notice, Sam shot back down onto his seat, his face feeling very hot at that moment.

“It’s their job to show their bodies to others.” he stuttered, wishing he could get rid of the image he currently had in his head. “But they aren’t looked up as a profession to follow. And as a princess, you shouldn’t behave like them anyway.”

“Well, I see nothing wrong with someone exposing themselves, voluntarily or by accident.”

“It’s not proper,” Sam fought back.

“Humans have so many rules,” Dina said.

But her voice was closer than before. It caused Sam to turn around to find Dina standing next to him naked as if it were something normal. Sam quickly grabbed the curtain and wrapped her in it, keeping his eyes anywhere else but the woman in front of him.

“Seriously, have you no respect for yourself?!”

“Why are you behaving in such a way? You will see my body when it is time to produce an heir?”

“Then we will deal with it at that time. But right now this isn’t decent!”

Sam grunted in complaint as he stalked off, leaving Dina wrapped up in the curtain. He told the seamstress to make sure Dina stayed put for her fittings and new clothes as he left the hall. He reached the kitchen and took a goblet and some ale, swallowing down the ale he poured himself. He shook his head as he tried to get the image of Dina’s beautiful body out of his mind. He thought of Jessica, how her body looked under candlelight. And then he realized that was the wrong choice since now he was having trouble down below.

He left to his room, finding the bath he had asked for before he left to train with his brother. The water was cold, but it was what he needed at that moment. Stripping down bare, he jumped into the cold tub, the chilly waters ending his troubles very quickly.

“That woman will be the death of me,” he muttered to himself as his teeth chattered.

A week had passed since Dina’s indecent exposure to Sam and he had been avoiding her at all costs. When he told his brother about what happened, all Dean did was laugh at him, poking fun at the fact that he ran when his own wife bared herself to him. Castiel and the rest of his garrison had grown to work well beside Dean, helping each other are the angels taught the humans about the new weapons. Sam was with Dean as Castiel watched over Dean's men, when Inias came out of the castle, Dina right beside him. Sam watched as they both joined Castiel, talking to him in whispers before Castiel yelled out no.

“What’s going on here?” Sam asked as he made his way towards the trio.

“My sister here is asking for my permission to let Inias train her in defenses.”

“Shouldn’t she be asking me?” Sam insisted, raising an eyebrow.

“Inias is my brother’s second in command, it was only right to ask him,” Dina said matter of factly.

“But I am your husband, remember the customs and rules we have here?”

“Fine,” Dina replied with a roll of her eyes. “Will you allow Inias to train me in defensive tactics?”

“No.”

Dina was about to complain when Sam stopped her.

“I would rather my brother and I train you since Inias has to keep his focus on training the army alongside your brother. It’s only fitting.”

“Wait, so you will let me train as long as it’s with you and Dean?” she asked, her eyes lighting up.

“Yes, since Dean is free right now, we can go over to the side of the castle and teach you the basics.”

Dina jumped for joy, wrapping her arms around Sam in a hug. She thanked him and let him go, running towards Dean with the news. Sam smiled softly seeing her excitement, reminding him of Jessica. He pulled out his sword, forgetting that the angel blade Dina had given his was on his hip. But Inias saw the blade, his eyes growing wide in shock.

“How did you get a hold of that blade?’ he asked Sam.

Sam looked at Inias with confusion, looking to his side to see the blade there. Before he could say another word. Inias stormed over to Dina and grabbed her by the arm. Dean was about to jump on the angel but was held at blade point by Inias.

“Why does your husband have the blade I gave you before you left?!” Inias demanded. “I gave it to you for your protection, yet you give it to a human you only met a few days ago?!”

“Inias, let me go and I will explain everything.”

“Dina, are you mad?! This man could kill you in your sleep with that blade by his side!”

“Inias let her go!” Castiel exclaimed, hand on the hilt of his sword.

Sam grabbed Inias' shoulder, getting his attention.

“Your princess is asking you to let her go,” Sam growled.

“I need answers first!”

“INIAS LET GO!”

Suddenly, a burst of air came out of nowhere and flung Inias to the side a few feet. Dina ran immediately into Sam’s arms, her eyes glowing as she looked over at her friend. Inias got up, grunting as he stood. Softly he excused himself and headed back into the castle. Sam rubbed Dina’s shoulders, calming her down as she was shaking.

“I need to go talk to him,” Dina began as she started to pull away. “He must think I hate him or something. He’s never behaved this way.”

“I will go talk to him,” Sam clarified, moving her towards Dean. “You go with Dean so he can start you off. I will handle Inias and when he is ready, I will tell him where to find you to talk.”

Dina nodded her head slowly in agreement, moving to follow Dean. Once she and Dean were out of sight, Sam turned to Castiel, who was watching from where he stood.

“If you are going to talk to Inias, be ready for his truth.”

Sam nodded his head before making his way into the castle. After asking around, he found Inias in the garden outback. He was sitting by the pond, watching the fish swim by. Sam sat a bit ways from the angel but kept silent, waiting for the right moment to talk.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her or scare her,” Inias said in a whisper.

“She knows, she’s more worried that you think she hates you after that.”

“I can never hate her,” Inias chuckled softly. “She is my princess, my future Queen.”

“She is more than that isn’t she?”

“If you are asking if I love her more than a friend, then you already know the answer to that.”

Sam kept silent, waiting for the angel to continue.

“We aren’t supposed to feel this way, these human emotions. But when I see Dina, I feel like everything is better. Her beautiful smile shines a room up, her laughter bounces sweetly in your ear.”

“Then why not admit you love her, you had the chance to court her.”

“No, not Dina,” Inias said, shaking his head. “She was never interested in romance. Her love was to her brothers and her books, nothing more.”

“So this is one-sided?”

“Of course! Castiel even told me to never picture myself with her because she had no interest in things like that. So, I covered up my feelings and kept content that we were friends, that I was her best friend.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Sam apologized.

“Don’t be. Maybe with you, she will see things differently, open herself up to experience more things. Dina is a smart woman, very knowledgeable. But when it comes to her siblings, she never doubts them, even after Lucifer’s fall.”

“I doubt she will open up with me as she does with you. Plus, she believes Lucifer would never harm her.”

“He may never do so, but when it comes to Lucifer, no one knows exactly what he is thinking.”

Sam sat there with Inias, their silence making due. After a couple of minutes, Inias got up and extended his hand out to Sam. They both finally stood, face to face. Inias smiled at Sam and patted him on the shoulder.

“You will do well for Dina, make her happy. She deserves to experience joy in a world she doesn’t know.”

Inias then made his way out of the garden. But Sam still had one more question.

“Are you ever going to pursue her?”

“As long as you are alive, I will keep my distance and adore her only as a friend.”

Sam watched as Inias left the garden, pondering over the small revelation about Inias and Dina. He wondered if Dina was even capable of loving someone outside her family circle. Not that he wanted to try it, was just curious. Sam made his way out the garden and towards where Dina and Dean were supposed to be. He finally saw them, Dean showing Dina on how to hold a knife, and all Sam could do was smile at the woman before him. One thing was certain, not only was she beautiful, but she was smart and strong.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #heaven and hell bingo #heavenandhellbingo #Sam Winchester #prince sam winchester #sam x ofc #sam winchester x ofc #fantasy fic

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asweetlovemessage-blog · 5 years ago

Text

a sweet good morning message for my love | TAM RELAX

bacsiykhoa.com

- My Blog 13-17 phút

”

==>> A Sweet Love Message.

When it comes to Southern romance, it's no secret that choosing the right words is important. Crafting the perfect romantic message and expressing how much you care about someone may be difficult, but it can also be incredibly rewarding. If you need a dash of inspiration, explore these short love messages and quotes about love for a little help with telling your beloved just how much you care!

==>> a sweet and romantic love message.

==>> a sweet good night love message.

==>> a sweet i love you message.

10 Brainstorming Techniques & Tips for Tapping Into Your Creative Side by Quincy Seale 12-16 phút

Some of the links in this post may be affiliate links. If make a purchase through these links, we receive a commission at no extra cost to you. Please see our disclosure for more info.

James Allen wrote this about thought: “Man is made and unmade by himself. In the armory of thought he forges the weapons by which he destroys himself. He also creates the tools with which he builds for himself heavenly mansions of joy and strength and peace. Between these two extremes are all the many grades of character, and man is their maker and their master. ”

So if man is the maker and master of thought, how do you go about learning to harness your own thoughts to create a better reality and become a more efficient, more productive, and more successful human being?

Well, obviously there are plenty of ways to go about such an endeavor, but today I want to talk about one of them. Brainstorming.

Because in order for us to get better at thinking, we first need to learn how to produce more thoughts. The more thoughts we have, the more chances we have to bring something more exciting into this world, and the more we generate new thoughts, or brainstorm, the better our mind gets at creating these new ideas. The Key to Brainstorming

The key thing to realize about brainstorming is that it’s solely about creation. It’s not about judging the ideas that arise or forcing yourself to think a certain way. What it really is, when it comes down to it, is “forceful creation.” To put it another way, you are willfully forcing your brain to be creative.

And since creativity is something that should be allowed to run its own course rather than be intellecualized, the entire process is a bit of a contradiction.

For this reason, it is a process rife with confusion and hesitance. So today I want to go over some different brainstorming techniques you can use. And you can use these to attack any problem in your life – from coming up with a new marketing strategy for your business to writing a new book to launching a new website to designing a new life for yourself.

Let’s have a look. 1. Mindmapping Software

Mindmapping Software

Photo Credit: Wikipedia

The first tool I want to introduce is actually software, and I realize this might sound extremely counter-intuitive and possibly counterproductive. After all, how in the world can you tap into your mind’s innate creativity with an electronic-based program?

But I stand by my assertion that mindmapping software really is priceless when it comes to this type of thinking, and it’s very hard to describe until you just dig in and give it a try.

The type of software I’m talking about specifically is the kind used by MindJet MindManager and Freemind.org, the latter of which, as the name applies, is downloadable for free.

The way these program works is you have an empty page with theoretically as much room as you could ever need. You click on the blank slate and create a bubble or box, depending on which program you’re using. You then write in the box the main idea you’re working from.

Let’s say, for instance, that you’re planning out a new website. You might write the name of the website here. If you click on another place on the page, it creates new nodes that comes out from that. You might lable one “Marketing,” one “Products,” and one “Audience,” for example.

Then from each of these nodes, you can create other smaller nodes. From “Marketing,” you might branch out to “Follow-up Marketing,” “Social Marketing,” “Branding,” and so on.

And you keep branching out and getting more and more specific until you’re just hammering out specific ideas for each segment of the web you’re creating.

This is just one way to use it – your mindweb or mindmap can be ogranized however you see fit.

And of course you can also do this type of mind-mapping technique on paper. But I find it way more productive to do it with software. It’s like a whole new world of creativity opens up to me when I match the speed of my mind and the speed of a computer with this old technique. 2. Become a List Whiz

Become a List Whiz

Photo Credit: matthewvenn | Flickr

A great way to train yourself to be more creative is to get in the habit of writing lists. Set time aside everyday to write lists about random things, or pressing problems when needed. Feel free to write about zany, irrelevant lists if you can’t think of anything better; it’s really just about strengthening your idea-generating muscles.

Lists I often write include stuff like, “10 Novels I Would Like to Write,” “20 Businesses I Could Start Tomorrow,” “10 Blog Articles for My Site,” or chapter lists for books I want to write someday.

Do this each and everyday and watch your creative muscles grow. 3. Mastermind Groups

Mastermind Groups

Photo Credit: rosefirerising | Flickr

Mastermind groups are a fantastic way to leverage the thoughts, knowledge, and inspiration of others in your path to success and happiness. Masterminding is nothing more than surrounding yourself with like-minded people who have similar goals.

You can create a formal group that sits down and actually involves in group discussions or brainstorming exercises if you like. It’s a platform where you can bounce ideas off of each other and take turns commenting on them.

You can also create something more semi-formal, where you meet every once in a while and sit down to discuss issues affecting your central industry or interest and then fill each other in on your individual challenges and invite ideas.

Or it can be completely informal. Just go out of your way to work out and socialize, etc, with people on the same path as you – mastermind ideas and inspiration will usually evolve naturally through your social interaction.

Online forums are also a good resource for masterminding and you don’t even have to ask people to specifically brainstorm. Just make a thread about the issue or situation and people will chip in with their different experiences and opinions. 4. Meditate Before You Brainstorm

Meditate Before You Brainstorm

Photo Credit: illusivemind | Flickr

One of the best ways to make yourself more emotionally healthy and tap into your creative juices is to develop the habit of meditation. After all, it’s hard to break into your intuitive side if your mind is filled with the clutter and stress of everyday life.

Meditation doesn’t have to be far-out or religious either. Just think of it as learning to calm and focus your mind. To mentally recharge. I make it a habit to meditate everyday as a part of a morning ritual I perform upon waking every morning – after working out and cleaning around the house. Just a quiet ten to twenty minute meditation.

Directly after this meditation is a great time to do a brainstorming session. In fact, you can make it a habit to brainstorm every morning after your meditation on whatever is currently your biggest goal, idea, or challenge. 5. Brainstorm in Your Sleep

Feeding yourself issues to handle while you sleep can often yield incredible results. Sometimes an issue is more appropriate for your subconscious than your conscious mind, and in cases like this, active brainstorming is nothing more than walking in circles. When you get in bed, meditate on the problem or idea for a minute, asking your subconscious to give you a solution by morning.

It can feel like magic at times. 6. Group Passing

While I do recommend masterminding, I’m actually not a big proponent of brainstorming in groups. Not that I don’t know they have enormous potential, but I’m just more of a solo-thinker myself and I find I don’t get as much out of them as most people do.

But if there’s one group-brainstorming exercise that really works well, it’s the concept of group passing.

Basically, you start with the central idea, or the foundation of what is to be brainstormed, and the first person in the group expands on that idea, without any input from the group. This person can even be tasked with coming up with the idea to be brainstormed.

Then they pass the paper to the next person and that person expands on it as they see fit. The idea is passed then to the next person and it evolves even further. The paper goes around the entire group and then the final result is shared with everyone.

Another thing I like about this tactic is that it can be done without physically getting together – over the Internet. Google Docs is a great way to do it; the online documents are easily shared and editable among the group. 7. Write It Out

Write It Out

Photo Credit: Abdulla Al Muhairi | Flickr

Using a good old pen and paper will never lose its effectiveness when it comes to letting your thoughts run free. In fact, some people prefer this as your mind works faster than you write, so by the time you finish writing down a thought, you’ve already got another in mind. In contrast, when many people type, they find themselves starting and stopping a lot, resulting in a much choppier process.

Do this any way you like. Free-writing is particularly effective for letting your mind run free. Write lists – this is a common brainstorming method for people who don’t even know what the word means, so it seems our minds intuitively work that way. And of course, you can create mindmaps.

One of the best things about writing is you can take this technology with you anywhere. Get a small notepad and keep it at all times, pulling it out when new thoughts cross your mind. I find this puts me in a constant brainstorming state, and I walk around creating throughout every minute of my day.

This type of constant approach allows you to catch yourself at your most creative. When intuition strikes, you can just sit down and get to spontaneous writing.

Whiteboards are also very effective. Hang one in your house with your major projects or developing ideas on them and it makes it official. You look at it and you get inspired. You have an idea and you add to it. It evolves as time goes on and sits further into your mind. 8. Give Yourself Omnipotence

I like the way Tim Ferris does this in his dream-lining technique. When he goes to goal-set, he asks himself what he would accomplish in three months time if he was the richest and smartest man in the world, and then starts from that foundation.

This essentially gives you liberty by removing all limitations. You don’t stop yourself from brainstorming down a certain path because “Oh, I’d need a couple hundred thousand dollars to do that” and then move on to another idea. Instead, you arrive at an idea that doesn’t recognize any boundaries and figure out a way to make it possible. 9. Brainstorm the Outlandish

Take the previous technique a step further by imagining nothing as impossible. Some of mankind’s greatest feats were accomplished when people decided to figure out a way to do something no one believed could be done.

How can we hurl a huge chunk of metal through the air so fast that it stays aloft and use it to carry people around the world? How can I create a light that never goes out so we don’t need fire to do the things we can usually only do in the day-time? How can I manufacture a device that allows me to talk with someone on the other side of the world as if we were speaking face-to-face?

The only way to produce impossible results is giving yourself impossible challenges and attacking them with your mind. 10. Walk Away From Thinking

Walk Away From Thinking

Photo Credit: bbcjk.king | Flickr

Sometimes you get too wrapped up in a problem and can’t extract yourself from it, so somewhere along the line in your brainstorming you may run into a dead-end or keep going in circles. What’s happening here is you’re trying to think yourself through it rather than tapping into your creative side.

Often, it’s best to get out from behind the computer or desk and go for a walk or do something that completely removes you from the situation. Your brain may just need downtime to sort things out, and you’ll often find that minutes after it’s out of mind an epiphany strikes. The Power of Thoughts

Thoughts may be the most powerful force on Earth.

In fact, they are so powerful that the existence of life on Earth is at risk due to things our thoughts have created – a worrying problem, no doubt, but a wild reality to contemplate.

Look around you. The computer mouse in your hand. Your laptop itself. The software that powers it. The table it sits on. Look up at the ceiling – the walls surrounding you and the building containing the room. The streets outside and the entire city laid out around you.

Everything you see and touch that is made by man was created first in the mind of a person and went through a process to be turned into a reality. In fact, some philosophers, and perhaps even some scientists, would go as far as to say that your entire reality is but a thought, and that your own thoughts can be used to direct and create the world around you.

I don’t want to get too esoteric on you today, but it’s clear that thoughts are an extremely valuable resource that has been recognized and even held in awe by wise-men throughout the centuries.

Will you be wise enough to see their value? Pick one of these brainstorming exercises and use it to start mastering your thought-creating capabilities. Tackle one of your greatest challenges today. And make doing so a habit. ”

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buttsonthebeach · 5 years ago

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Quick, Bright, Easy

@wardsarefunctioning is the nicest ever and commissioned me to write about Ashara and Lucius, in an AU in which they are secretly sleeping together! Thank you friend <3 <3 <3 It was fun taking these characters into a modern space and playing around with this scenario.

My Ko-Fi || My Commissions (Slots currently CLOSED as of 7/29/19)

Pairing: Ashara Lavellan x Lucius Talvas

Rating: Mature. There is smut but it is not overly explicit. Read at your own discretion!

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

As usual, when Ashara made it to Lucius’s dorm room, she was already going a mile a minute. Already kissing him, one hand already on his belt. She smelled like soap and the leave-in conditioner she used religiously on her thick curly hair, and before he was really processing anything, his hands were already tangled in that hair, pulling her closer, breathing harshly against her lips.

“Careful,” she murmured. “I have class in half an hour. Can’t mess up the hair. But also hurry. I have class in half an hour.”

He laughed, and her cheeks pinked with embarrassment.

“Don’t laugh at me,” she said, pushing him a step or two back. “We have an exam today and I’m all wound up and I -”

Lucius silenced her with another kiss, with his hands on her ass now, pulling her tight against him. The sundress she was wearing was thin and he could feel the heat of her skin through the fabric and Maker he was already hard, and minutes ago he had been studying for his own exams and now he’d forgotten everything he’d ever learned about property law and the nature of limited liability corporations (not that he had ever really cared that much about them in the first place). All that mattered now was that Ash was here, and in his arms, her hand already snaking down the front of his jeans, gripping him tight.

Things were always fast with her, it seemed. She thought fast, talked fast, learned fast. She was quick to push him backwards towards his bedroom, to pull the sundress over her head, baring all that perfect brown freckled skin beneath it, the simple brown cotton bra and underwear beneath that. She’d been fast to befriend him after that first day they met in the campus library six months before, at the start of the fall term. She was a firstyear student at the University of Kirkwall but she was already fast knocking out the classes for her degree (Physics of the Fade with a minor in Elvhen Cultural Studies).

And when they’d first kissed, four months ago, she’d been quick to deepen it. They were at a Wintersend party at their friend Laurence’s fraternity, in a quiet corner, and Lucius was tall but so was she and she was on tiptoe and he wanted nothing more than to keep kissing her. But he’d had to pull back, tell her the truth that had been knotted around his heart ever since he realized he was falling for her.

“My work-study program - they have very strict rules about dating. I can’t - we can’t - unless it’s a secret.”

And she’d been fast to accept that. Sure, whatever, it’s fine, we don’t need to be that serious anyway.

And now here she was, in his dorm, fast removing his clothes, kissing his collarbone, grinding against his thigh. And she was, as always, a wonder in his arms, and he feared, as always, that it would be over as fast as it had begun. This secret between them. The sweet sound she made when he slipped a hand between them, played with her over her underwear, pushed the underwear aside so he could feel how wet she was.

“Fenedhis,” she swore, her palms slapping against his headboard, and then she whimpered when he entered her, and he wanted to hear that sound every day, he wanted to hold her hand when they walked to and from class, he wanted to take her to one of the nice restaurants off campus, but he was a poor Tevene student from a poor family and this work-study program was the only thing keeping him in school, paying his tuition and putting food on his plate, and so this had to stay a secret.

But all of that fell away as he watched her, all but riding his hand as he fingered her, her own fingernails digging into the headboard. As she pulled away, fumbled through the drawer in his nightstand and found a condom, took him out of his briefs, rolled the condom down, and then sank down on him. Then there was nothing but how good it felt to be in her, close to her. She bent down and rested her forehead against his and it filled him with a tenderness that overwhelmed all of his senses, that forced helpless sounds up from his throat as he kissed her, bucked up into her, everything forgotten but the present moment -

And then, of course, his phone rang.

He had every single contact in there set to vibrate, except for one - Magister Corix, president of the Kirkwall chapter of the Nicon Estoris Center. His boss, and the reason his feelings for the beautiful woman above him had to stay secret.

"Shit. Sorry. Hang on. I have to take this."

Just as she'd been fast with everything, Ash was fast to listen. She pulled away from him, scrambled to the end of the bed, panting, apologizing. Lucius took a second to catch his breath, cleared his throat, and answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Lucius. You sound out of breath."

Lucius closed his eyes, tempted to pray to the Maker he didn't believe in. "Sorry. I'm at the gym."

"I see. Go ahead and wrap up there - I have another mailing I'd like to get out before close of business today and I'll need you to come in as soon as you can."

"Understood. I'll be there in forty-five minutes."

"Sooner if you can. There are at least one hundred envelopes to be stuffed."

Corix hung up. Lucius had been working for him since he was a first year himself, and in those five years he still had not seemed to grasp that Lucius did not have a car, that forty-five minutes was the absolute fastest he could get from the University's Lowtown campus to the Center's Hightown office if he took the bus. Nor did he understand that most voters weren't going to open the mailings that Lucius would painstakingly assemble all afternoon. That was probably a good thing, though. The Nicon Estoris Center was focused primarily on so-called traditional Thedosian politics, and promoting the interests of the Chantry, and Lucius didn't particularly want anyone to open their mailings. He didn't particularly want to work there at all. But it was the only nonprofit that would pay the lion's share of his tuition, and his parents were so proud of him for going to college, and it wasn't like they were as reactionary as the Venatori faction that had been trying to influence Tevene politics and Thedosian politics at large -

And to be frank it hadn't really mattered all that much to him until this year. Until he met the woman sitting nervous and cross-legged at the foot of his bed, chewing her lower lip. The delicate points of her elven ears just visible through the cloud of her curls. Exactly the sort of person that the stewards of the Nicon-Estoris Center would never approve of.

All participants in the work-study will uphold the values of the Center in all aspects of their daily lives. This extends to their romantic involvements. Failure to uphold these values will result in termination of participants' work-study benefits.

They didn't say it explicitly, but Lucius had stuffed enough envelopes and edited enough promotional material to know what they meant. First, no sex outside of marriage, period. Second, that eventual marriage was to be with a Tevene woman. There was no room for any of the things he had ever felt towards other men. Or for what he felt for Ashara Lavellan, an elf, and the brightest and kindest person he knew.

"I should go," she said awkwardly, rising, looking around for the sundress she had discarded.

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I've got that exam. Do you think you'll still make it to D&D tonight?"

"I think so. I'll probably be late though."

"That's okay. I'll let the others know. See you then."

She stood looking down at him, dressed but still flushed with desire, pink along the hollow of her throat and the rise of her breasts, the pupils of her big blue eyes still dilated. Before Lucius could say anything else she bent down and kissed his cheek. She drew back but her hand was still cupping his face, her thumb drawing a pattern across his cheekbone. She looked at him another moment, something like fear in her eyes, and then she was gone as fast as she arrived.

Lucius had never put that much energy into love and relationships. He'd been shy and awkward since the day he was born if you listened to his mother. He'd attended an integrated school in Vyrantium, in an era when the Tevene school system was trying to prove that mages and non-mages could have the exact same education, right down to their classes in practical magical applications. The end result as far as his social life was concerned was that he was isolated from the non-mage students who resented those who still had magic, an increasingly rare skill in modern Thedas, and one the teachers still fussed over despite being told to treat all students as equal. And yet his relative poverty isolated him from the wealthy mage students, of whom there were far more than non-wealthy mage students.

And, of course, the elven students, regardless of the other categories they might fit into - mage or non-mage - tended to stick to themselves as well.

Some students were brave enough, gregarious enough, to overcome those divides. Lucius barely had the desire or energy to talk to the students he most closely resembled, no matter how many pep talks his parents gave him. That did not change as he got older, as he became aware of certain girls at his school, and then occasionally of certain boys. He wanted the things he saw other people having - dates and presents and holding hands in the hall - but he wanted them distantly. The same way he wanted to be able to cast a fireball, the way mages had in the past, before magic became so rare and so weakened.

That had changed a little in college, with the introduction of alcohol. His work-study situation had been the perfect excuse to keep things casual. To dip his toes in, see what it was like, and then withdraw before any lines were crossed.

Until Ashara.

Lucius sat in one of the oak-paneled conference rooms at the Nicon Estoris Center, mindlessly filling envelopes, thinking only of her. About how she'd kissed his cheek before leaving. It hadn't been like that when their secret first started. There'd been plenty of kissing of course but it was the hot and heavy kind that happened when you came over to "watch a movie." It had progressed from there. She was frank about her inexperience and he was frank about his and so they learned together, all the way until they'd finally had sex. A first for both of them. But even then she had not clung to him or made professions of love. And she had not kissed him on the cheek before she left.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, trying to refocus on the task at hand. He was obsessing over nothing.

Ash was comfortable with their situation. He would know if she wasn’t. She wasn’t particularly good at hiding what she was feeling. And though no one was forbidding her from dating, or from dating someone who wasn’t an elf, she had plenty of reason to only want something casual. She’d come to the University of Kirkwall from the Republic of Enasan, an elf majority country in the far south. She was the daughter of two well known politicians down there - Solas and Ellana Lavellan - and she was a gifted mage and a gifted student. She was enjoying her first freedom from her parents and their relative fame (though she did always speak of them with great fondness). She was undoubtedly going to go on to great things. She didn’t need to fall in love.

She certainly didn’t need to fall in love with a twenty-three-year-old Business major who still had another semester to go after this one because he’d had to take time off part way through his degree to help out back at home in Vyrantium, who wasn’t even a particularly good or enthusiastic Business major, who had no idea what he was going to do with the degree when he was done with it.

So that was what Lucius reminded himself of over and over again. Not of the way she’d rested her forehead against his while they were having sex, or of the way she’d kissed his cheek or looked down at him with something like fear, something like hope, in her eyes. Of how impossible all of it was. Of how he’d never counted on falling in love anyway.

“Are we expecting more food?”

Laurence’s question cut through the fog of Ashara’s thoughts. She turned away from the door to the hallway, which she must have been watching more intently than she thought she had been.

“No.”

“Oh. Too bad.” Laurence didn’t seem too put out though. He had a plate full of pizza in front of him after all. Their other friend, Haleir, was the one who started laughing.

“Wait - did you actually ask that just because Lavellan was staring at the door?”

“Yes. She usually does that when we’re waiting for the food to arrive,” Laurence said simply, and Ashara could already feel the heat rising in her cheeks. Haleir laughed even harder at that.

“I’m not sure what’s funnier - the fact that she does stare at the door when we’re waiting for food, or the fact that you noticed and got excited.”

“Oh, shut up,” Ashara groused finally, kicking at Haleir’s chair.

“Please no destruction of furniture,” Claudia said, emerging from her room with her mountain of D&D books in her arms. “Where’s Lucius?”

Ashara pretended that the name didn’t make her sit up a little straighter.

“Running late. He had to go to work on short notice.”

“Oh. He didn’t text that, did he?” Claudia reached for her phone, frowning as she swiped through the notifications.

Ashara realized her error at once.

“No - ah - I saw him earlier today on my way to class. He told me then.”

Claudia gave Ashara one long, searching look, and then she dropped it. Haleir and Laurence were busy laughing about something else by that point, which was a relief. Ashara was no good at keeping secrets, if she was honest with herself. She was amazed this one had lasted as long as it had. Four whole months. Four great months. Free to explore and learn and enjoy college and more importantly to enjoy Lucius, the secret world between the two of them - the soft little quirk of his lips when he found something funny about a movie they were watching, because he very rarely laughed out loud - the way he melted whenever she ran her fingers up and down the back of his neck as they kissed - his ticklish spots and the tone his voice only ever took on when it was the two of them -

“Ashara.”

Haleir’s singsonging voice jerked her back. He was the only one who ever called her by her full name, since he was the only other elf in the little group they’d cobbled together over the school year.

“What?”

“What time is he getting here?”

“Oh. He didn’t say. Let me text him.”

She sent the text and then drifted on the tide of conversation as she waited for his reply, observing her friends. She and Haleir were the youngest, still in their first year at the university, and had met in their orientation; Ashara had already known Claudia through their parents’ friendship, which was why they were roommates, even though she was a year ahead of Ashara in school; Laurence, also in his second year in college, had shown up (already high on elfroot) to a party Claudia was hosting, thinking it was a dorm belonging to one of his frat brothers, and had stuck around since. And then there was Lucius, the oldest of them by a good three years, still working on finishing the last credits he needed for his degree, and painfully aware of that fact. She wanted to soothe his feelings about it, to remind him that none of them cared, that probably no one cared. She hoped he was doing okay at work. She wondered why he hadn’t texted back yet.

Claudia got to work arranging miniatures and reviewing her notes for the evening’s session, and then they were all complaining about their midterms when Lucius texted back.

Should be on my way soon. Maybe 30 minutes but then I have to take the bus. You can start without me.

A dart of disappointment hit her chest. He sounded disappointed too. Hopefully he wasn’t too tired to come after all.

“What’s wrong?” Claudia asked.

“Lucius isn’t leaving work for another 30 minutes and then he has to take the bus to get here. He said we should start without him.”

“I can roll for him,” Laurence offered.

“Nope,” Claudia said. “Same rule as always. You miss a session, you don’t get any of the XP or loot. You guys are all back in town right now, anyway. He can let us know what his wizard has been up to.”

Normally D&D was one of Ashara’s favorite parts of the week. A chance to escape from the mundane every day into a world more magical than their own - a world similar to the one her father described in every one of her childhood bedtime stories. A Thedas where magic was not a trickle but a deluge, where the beings whose skulls she saw in museums were real - dragons and varterrals and broodmothers. A world she got to study now that she was finally in college. But that evening her eyes kept drifting back to her phone, over and over and over again.

Things were casual with Lucius. Casual and secret. Both of those things were good. She was too busy for anything else. Too young for anything else.

Right?

But she hadn’t felt casual about him that afternoon, standing there looking down at him in his bed as she got ready to go to class. She hadn’t felt casual when she kissed his cheek on her way out the door.

Well, whatever her feelings were they didn’t matter. He had to protect his work-study benefits. He had no other choice. He was the first person in his family to go to college and even if she did have feelings for him it would still have to be a secret and that would probably hurt worse, and he probably didn’t even want that, and it wouldn’t be fair to put that on him, but she didn’t have feelings anyway so -

“Ash!” Laurence sounded uncharacteristically frustrated.

“Nope,” Claudia said. “Too late. She wasn’t listening and didn’t react quickly enough to help you flirt with the barkeep. He has already moved on in horror and, quite frankly, disgust.”

“What? Sorry, what did I miss?”

“Laurence has failed in his quest to successfully hit on every barkeep in town. He was hoping you would step in and roll to assist him,” Haleir snorted.

“Oh, gods, I’m sorry.”

“Ah, it’s no problem. Perhaps your character wanted to see mine fail, anyway. He is quite handsome in his new set of armor,” he said with a dramatic waggle of his eyebrows.

“If her character is anything like her, I don’t think she dates,” Haleir chimed in, a sly grin on his face.

Ashara felt the urge to argue, and then stopped herself. A secret was a secret, and they weren’t really dating, and there was no reason for that fact to make her feel sad.

“A pity in both universes, then,” Laurence sighed.

Ashara’s cheeks filled with heat.

“You would be correct. My character is a dedicated cleric of Mythal and doesn’t need any distractions.”

“And her real life counterpart?” Haleir asked.

“Not everyone is as obsessed with sex as you two,” Claudia quipped, shooting a glare at both of them.

“Thank you, Claudia.”

By the time Lucius arrived they had moved on from the subject and were heading through a tunnel they’d found in the basement of one of the bars in town, trying to see if it did in fact connect to the Deep Roads, and someone had pulled out a pack of cheap hard ciders, and Ashara was buzzy with laughter, totally removed from the confusion of the earlier part of the day. But then he was there, tall and dark-haired and quiet, and nothing else mattered other than the fact that she wanted to see him smile.

“Talvas!” Haleir crowed. “You’ve really got to quit that job.”

“I wish,” Lucius said, sitting heavily in a chair beside Laurence, accepting the cider he passed over. “What did I miss?”

They launched back into the game. All the while, Ashara wished that Lucius had come and said hi to her, that he had sat in the empty seat to her right and not next to Laurence, and most of all she wished that she didn’t wish those things.

* Lucius was surprised how many levels there were to intimacy. How many shades of difference there were in sex alone, even ignoring the other kinds of intimacy - the emotional kind, the intimacy of holding someone’s hand.

When he and Ashara had first slept together, it had been an awkward, half-drunk thing, and of course it was intimate by default because they were naked and he was inside her but that was a blunt, de facto kind of intimacy, wasn’t it?

It was nothing like the next time they slept together, two weeks after the time they’d been interrupted by the phone call from Corix.

He and Ash had been texting all day, venting their frustrations over schoolwork and parents and high expectations. He could tell even through those words that she wasn’t having a good day. She was an anxious person, and had gone to a therapist for it back in Enasan, but hadn’t found someone she liked in Kirkwall yet. He’d heard her talk about the strategies she had learned over the years to cope, and had watched how she could get so overwhelmed that she forgot to use them. So he texted her again:

Do you want to come over?

Not sure I’ll be good company.

You’re always good company.

:) omw

He was nervous the way he always was when she came over. Excited, happy nervous. But it didn’t unfold the way it usually did. There was no awkward pretense of something else before they dove eagerly into sex. There was nothing awkward about seeing her look so tired, so defeated, and wanting to soothe that away. They sat and they talked about her fears that she was in the wrong major even though it was the only thing she’d ever wanted to study, ever since she was a little girl and her magic first became apparent. How she was wondering now if it was selfish, the height of her privilege to study something so esoteric and theoretical when so many people all around Thedas needed help.

“I don’t see you that way. You went on that volunteer trip to Par Vollen for spring break, right? And you went to that protest against the gentrification of Lowtown’s historic alienage district last week.”

“Yes, but is that enough? Am I enough?”

It was natural to tilt her face back up, to look her in the eye, to say softly:

“Of course you are.”

It was natural to kiss her then, sweet and soft, and it was also the most intimate thing he’d ever done with another person. To hold her close, to hear her breath hitch not in desire but against the rush of tears. To kiss her eyelids and her nose, and then to feel her bury herself against his chest. He leaned back against the couch cushions and they lay there like that, and it was a rush as strong as that first time they’d slept together.

“Do you want to watch something?” he asked eventually. “Or get something to eat?”

“Whatever you want,” she murmured. “I’m happy like this.”

He turned on the TV for the sound of low voices but barely paid attention to what was on it, trying instead to commit to memory what it felt like to be so close to someone. So trusted. Anxiousness bubbled in the back of his own mind - this was too close, too intimate, and the closer and more intimate things got the more it would hurt to keep it secret, the harder it would be - but he kept silencing it over and over again. He wanted not to care. He wanted to be someone who didn’t have to care about these things. So he would be, at least for now.

Ash sat up eventually, bleary-eyed, her cheek creased by his shirt. She’d been sleeping and that realization filled him with a rush of emotion. They had never stayed over with one another. Had never even taken a nap together. And to see her now, when she was slowed down, yawning, vulnerable, not a whirling rush of feeling and thought -

Lucius leaned over and kissed her before he could feel or think anything else. She responded at once, soft sounds dropping from her lips, and he deepened it, and she followed suit, opening her mouth against his, threading her fingers into his hair. He pulled her closer, onto his lap. He could feel himself getting hard between them but he focused only on the way it felt to kiss her, on the present moment, because nothing else was guaranteed for them. Ashara started grinding against his leg. Everything felt slower than usual as she reached for the hem of his t-shirt, helped him pull it over his head, as she ran her hands along his shoulders and chest, still kissing him, still grinding against him. She pulled back, made long and steady eye contact with him, and suddenly there was no rush; they could make the present last forever.

“Do you want to go to my room?” he asked.

She nodded, and they went together, undressed slowly, came together on the bed naked and quiet, covered themselves up beneath the blankets, making a perfect warm secret place where there was only the two of them, and Lucius knew - knew - as he moved in her that this was too close, too intimate, that they hadn’t talked about this, that it could never go anywhere. But looking down at her beneath him, feeling her body so close to his, he could not imagine letting her go.

“Closer,” Ash said, tugging on his shoulders, and he laid down on top of her and she wrapped her arms around him and held him tight and he moved in her until all the pleasure coiled white hot in his core and he came, shuddering, not embarrassed of the sounds he made for the first time, because she was holding him, whispering something in her native tongue.

When it was over he lay beside her, not quite touching, and this time his mind was the one that was fast. Maybe - maybe this could work - it could stay a secret but it didn’t have to be meaningless anymore - maybe -

“I - I should go,” Ashara said suddenly, softly.

Lucius rolled over, saw her lying there stiff, looking up at the ceiling.

“There’s no rush,” he ventured, but Ashara was already standing up, collecting her clothes, not meeting his eyes.

“I, um - I forgot I had plans with Claudia tonight. I’m sorry. I’ll text you later?”

She was gone, and there was no good-bye kiss, and slowly but surely all the maybes in his mind drifted away.

Ashara had known Claudia on and off again, like a distant cousin, since she was young, but Claudia didn’t even need to know someone all that well to be able to read them like a book. And considering that people who didn’t even know Ashara could read her like a book, she probably didn’t stand a chance of hiding what she was feeling from her friend, but that didn’t stop her from trying as she unlocked the door to their dorm and slipped inside.

“There you are,” Claudia said from the couch. And then, about twenty seconds afterwards, before Ashara had a chance to get to her room. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Ashara said, even though she felt like she hadn’t been able to breathe all day, her anxiety a vice that had started the day with its grip on her throat and had been tightening it one notch at a time ever since. It hadn’t been bad like this in a while. Was it just that the flush of excitement of starting college had worn off? Leftover stress from midterms? Why was her brain once again focused on nitpicking every last moment of every day, like a song she couldn’t turn off or ignore?

Was it because of Lucius? Because of how good he’d been at breaking down that panic in her, and how she wanted that in her life every day and couldn’t have it?

“Ash,” Claudia said, her tone equal parts warming and warning.

“No, it’s fine, really. I’ll be fine. I’m just going to go lie down for a bit.”

Except lying down made her think of Lucius again, about how she’d wanted to stay in his arms forever, about how that frightened her. About how she had no reason to be so anxious and how she really shouldn’t feel bad about anything, ever, because she was so lucky in comparison to so many others, including him. She didn’t have to work for a place she hated and disagreed with, didn’t have to give up on living her life in any particular way, just to get her degree. So really all of her self-pitying moments, all of her fear were stupid, self-indulgent, and she was a piece of shit for ever feeling bad in the first place -

And now she had let all of that fear drive her straight out of Lucius’s arms, right when things had been good, and she hadn’t even explained herself, and she’d probably hurt him, and if there was ever any chance of anything happening, she’d ruined it. And she could not just lie there with that thought sitting on her chest for hours.

So she went back out to the living room, where Claudia was watching one of her favorite fashion shows or another - probably Queer Eye for the Fereldan Guy judging by the group of well-coiffed men on screen - and sat down beside her.

“Are you going to talk about how not fine you are now?” Claudia asked, muting the TV.

“It’s just the same shit,” Ashara mumbled. “I haven’t been feeling like myself. My anxiety is getting really bad and I have no idea why. And I - did something stupid today, and now I feel even worse.”

Claudia frowned.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing - just something stupid. It doesn’t matter what. I just feel awful.”

“That doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. If it’s nothing, why feel awful about it? Where were you today, anyway?”

Claudia was one of the most trustworthy people Ashara knew. She would never breathe a word of this to anyone. And suddenly the secret was heavy and awful, as if one of the moons was crushing her windpipe.

“I was with Lucius. Like - with Lucius.”

“Ah, so you are dating him.”

“What - no - but how did you know?”

“Well, I didn’t know know, but I was pretty sure. You two always seemed to have a bit of a thing for each other. I just wasn’t sure why you weren’t shouting it from the rooftops if you were dating.”

Ashara was queasy with shame. Of course it had been obvious. Lucius should have chosen someone else - anyone else - to share this secret with. She was useless when it came to this sort of thing.

“Well, we aren’t dating. We’re just sleeping together. Because of his work-study. They have some stupid clause about upholding Estoris’s morals and values in public and private life.”

Claudia’s eyes widened with understanding. “Shit. Estoris was pretty conservative. So I’m guessing being romantically involved with an elf is completely off the table?”

“It’s actually being romantically involved with anyone you aren’t married to. But I doubt he would have considered an elf marriage material.”

“Lucius is totally against all of this, right?” Claudia asked, eyes narrowing.

“Yes, of course! He hates how conservative the politics are there. You should see him when he gets off of a shift. He spends hours proofreading things he doesn’t believe in and taking meeting minutes for meetings that he wishes didn’t have to happen. But you know what his family’s situation is. He has no other way to afford school, and he’s so close to finishing. So - we decided to keep it a secret. And keep it casual."

"So the stupid thing you did earlier today has something to do with all of this?"

"Yes. I was having a really rough day and he asked me to come over and we talked and cuddled and when we had sex it was - different than before. And I was so happy and then I just panicked and left and barely gave him a chance to say anything and gods I am so stupid, Claudia."

Ashara felt embarrassingly close to tears. Claudia was simply sitting there in front of her, one eyebrow delicately raised, a look of blank confusion on her face.

"So - you were having a good time, connecting with him more than usual, and then you left?"

"Yes. I mean, what other choice did I have?"

"Tell him that your feelings have changed?"

"It won't change the fact that the Center could deny his benefits."

Claudia looked off into the distance, nodding once or twice to herself.

"Let me figure that out. You just need to find out if he feels the same way."

Ashara thought back to earlier that afternoon - how Lucius had kissed her, the gentleness in his tone, the warm cozy closeness as they had sex, so different from excited experimentation or blowing off steam. And yet she still felt afraid.

"Maybe," she said. "We'll see."

Claudia put a hand on Ashara's arms.

"You could always talk to my dads, you know. They lived through some pretty shitty times in Tevinter as far as keeping love secret went."

Lying in her own bed that night, digging her nails into her palms, feeling like the whole world was spinning out from beneath her, like she was helpless and powerless no matter what she did, Ashara came back to that word. Love. She imagined the safety she felt in his arms that afternoon, and that was what pulled her into sleep, what caused her to wake up the next morning, knowing what she had to do.

Lucius already knew that Ashara Lavellan was fast - quick to learn, quick to laugh, quick to feel fear. In the end he shouldn't have been surprised that she would be quick to leave as well.

He'd played the moment she left the day before over and over again in his mind - how she had not even looked over her shoulder as she went. He had to remind himself that she had her own reasons for being okay with their arrangement. For wanting something easy and casual that did not tie her down or alter the dynamic with their friends. He'd panicked her with the intensity of his intimacy.

But then his mind spooled back to the softness of her voice, her words, when they had sex. How she'd held him. He hadn't imagined that.

He'd checked his phone repeatedly that morning but she hadn't texted. He tried to force himself to focus on the textbook in front of him but all he could think was how profoundly little he cared about his degree in business, about the Center and its politics, how he was barely into his twenties and already somehow totally trapped -

There was a knock at his door.

And when he opened it, Ashara was on the other side.

"Hi."

"Hi," he said, heart already in his throat.

"I'm sorry for not texting or calling I just - can I come in? It's okay if you say no."

"Of course."

She was already talking as she crossed the threshold, because Ashara Lavellan was nothing if she was not fast, quick and lively as a flash of sun on the surface of water. About how she was an idiot, and a mess, and she probably wasn't worth the trouble of dealing with what an idiot mess she was, and how she knew things had to stay secret but how Claudia had some type of plan about the Center, and Lucius was caught in the current, happy to see her, not sure he was following, unwilling to interrupt.

"The entire point is," she said, taking both his hands suddenly. "That I like you, Lucius. I don't want this to just be casual. I care about you too much for that. And I don't know if you feel the same way and it's okay if you don't -"

Lucius kissed her, not to silence her but because he didn't have any words of his own for the swelling, buoyant feeling in his chest. Because he would never have half her skill with words anyway. Because he wanted to be quick, too, to show her how he felt.

"I'd like that a lot," he said. "Figuring this out with you."

"Good," Ashara said, beaming. "Then we will."

Lucius had never felt more sure of anything in his life.

#beach writes #beach does commissions #ashara lavellan #lucius talvas #ashara x lucius #eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh #thank you waaardsss

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afteriwake · 5 years ago

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Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures (8/?)

And we now get to meet this infamous M in this world’s Bond universe!

Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures - It all begins with an invitation to Mycroft’s wedding to his PA and seven days at a resort in Jamaica, with the assumption that Molly pretends to be his girlfriend that his mother might be under the impression that he’s going to propose to sooner rather than later. It ends up being so much more than that…

READ CHAPTER 1 | READ CHAPTER 8 | HELP ME SURVIVE? | COMMISSION ME? | BUY ME A KOFI?

Sherlock and Robert walked around the resort, looking at the various places where people could be sociable, talking as they moved, and eventually found the now infamous, at least to Sherlock, Aunt Mildred at a table with his Uncle Harrington and Molly. He could already hear the spirited discussion of what constituted a lesser work by Dickens from twenty feet away, and he swore he had never seen a gleam so bright in his uncle’s eye before.

Molly spotted them first. “Sherlock!” she said, a wide smile on her face. “Please come stop them from taking this argument to others who don’t share their love of literature.”

“Sorry, I nodded off during Dickens,” he said, leaning over and pressing a kiss into Molly’s hair, just because he could. “Ask me my opinions on the stories of Doyle and I may be worth having enter the fray.”

“Oh, he did write good science fiction,” Harrington said.

“Yes, but H.G. Wells was better,” Mildred said.

Harrington looked for a moment like he was going to disagree, but then stopped and nodded. “I suppose you have a point there. The Time Machinewas a stellar work. Not fond of the Guy Pearce adaptation, but I wore through many VHS copies of the original production.”

“And just why don’t you like the Guy Pearce version?” Mildred asked, with a mildly pointed tone and a smile on her face.

“Aunt Mildred, we have a Problem,” Robert said, sitting next to his aunt. “With a capital P and the initials SH.”

“What has he done now?” she asked, nodding towards Sherlock.

“She knows you?”Molly murmured as Sherlock sat next to her.

“I’ll explain later,” Sherlock said back. Then he turned to Mildred. “Not me. At least, not this time. The other problematic Holmes child with those initials.”

The amusement dropped off Mildred’s face. “Shit,” she said.

“You’re acquainted with my eldest nephew?” Harrington asked.

“Unfortunately,” Mildred said. She looked at Sherlock, narrowing her gaze. “Robert filled you in, I take it?”

Sherlock nodded. “Yes.”

“And your pretend girlfriend’s clearance level is high enough to know the truth, I suppose?”

Sherlock started to reply but Molly shook her head. “Not so pretend,” she interjected. “At least, not anymore, I suppose.”

Mildred nodded slowly, giving them an approving look. “Good. One less secret for the bastard to ferret out.”

“I’m missing quite a bit here, aren’t I?” Harrington asked with a frown on his face.

“You have the highest clearance of the Holmes family,” Mildred said, turning to him. “Aside from my soon to be in-law and Sherlock, of course. Robert and I work as Her Majesty’s top line of defense when it comes to national security, and your eldest nephew is a threat to Queen and country.”

Realization dawned on Harrington and he nodded slowly. “Ah. That makes sense.”

“What does?” Robert asked.

“Why half the guests I’ve run into so far from Andrea’s side of the family seem so closed off,” Harrington said. “It fits with the nature of what I’m assuming is your family business.”

Mildred shook her head. “For the lot of us, we seem to be very bad at relaxing.”

“You were doing just fine, dear,” Harrington said. “I never would have guessed.”

Mildred gave him a warm smile. “I like you, Harrington. I think I’m going to have you stay nice and close this week.”

“There are worse places to be,” he replied with a grin of his own. “But I imagine we’ll all be keeping an eye on Sherrinford?”

“Wouldn’t hurt,” Sherlock said. “I know less about him than almost everyone else, it seems. But I’m willing to go to great lengths for this week not to be ruined.”

“Well, start discretely spreading the word amongst our family he’s here,” Mildred said to Robert. “I’ll send the ones who we can’t afford to have the bastard see off to a lovely vacation on some other Caribbean isle, and we can dip into funds to make sure the wedding gifts are up to scratch for their unfortunate disappearances from the event.”

“Does that include cousin Sharon?” Robert asked. “She’s a bridesmaid.”

“Damn,” Mildred said. “It does.” She thought for a moment. “Your sister is fond of Dr. Hooper. Suggest she take Sharon’s place.”

“What?” Molly asked, her eyes widening.

“You’re the only one in Sherlock’s small group with any real sense, we all know it,” Mildred said. “That’s why we like you. You rein in this walking hurricane next to you.”

“I’ve never been called a walking hurricane before,” Sherlock said in an approving tone of voice.

“It isn’t a compliment,” Mildred said.

“At least it’s not The Ice Man,” Sherlock retorted.

“Oh, we all knew that was a crock of bull the minute Andrea said she had her sights set on your brother,” Mildred said. “But back to the situation at hand. Make the suggestion, get those people out of here we need to get out as quickly as possible, and tell Mycroft and Andrea to extend more invitations at the last minute to some low-level government officials that they need to curry favour with. You know, the ones most aggravated by this one’s stunt.”

Robert nodded. “I’ll get right on it,” he said. “Might need to steal your companions, as they’re the only parts of the wedding party with high enough security clearance.”

“Do what needs to be done,” Mildred said. Robert stood up, as did Sherlock and Molly, before she turned to face Sherlock. “I do actually find you interesting, you know.”

“I’m glad, as we’ll be family by the end of the week,” Sherlock said.

“There are worse families for my niece to marry into,” Mildred said. “At least you and Mycroft turned out well enough.” She then waved her hand at the three of them and turned back to Harrington.

“That’s our official dismissal,” Robert said. The three of them moved away from the table and Sherlock and Molly turned to Robert. “I suppose we start rounding up people and sending them off.”

Sherlock nodded and Robert began walking ahead of him and Molly. Molly looked up at Sherlock, her eyes slightly wide. “Spies, Sherlock?”

“Family business, apparently,” he said.

“Why is nothing normal in your life?” she asked.

“I have no idea,” he replied. “Do you want to stay a part of it?”

“Of course,” she said, reaching for his hand. He felt his heart lighten at that and then they went to go catch up with Robert. That was one small consolation, at least.

#sherlock #sherlolly #mollock #fanfic #fanfiction #sherlock holmes #molly hooper #original characters #Multipart: Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures

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otakuprincess15 · 6 years ago

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Does Anybody Have A Map? Chapter 3: Did That Really Just Happen?

A/N: So... I suck and I am so totally sorry! I tried super hard to get this written in time to post on Monday but life got in the way. I will work harder! But in the mean time, please enjoy the next chapter. Also, this story does need a trigger warning for mild discussions/emotional stuff having to do with a character who is unable to have kids. It won't come up for a while and it will not be a continuous thing talked about. I will give a warning on the chapter when we get to it too.

Anyways, thanks for reading! Love you guys!

~marauderluverz

Index: 1, 2, 3, 4 or read on ff.net

Chapter 3: Did That Really Just Happen?

"Did Marinette really used to have a crush on me?" Adrien asked.

Alya choked on a sip of her fresh cup of coffee. "I never said that."

"You might not have, but I'm pretty sure that's what it sounded like Marinette said," he countered.

"Oh god, she is going to kill me," she sighed, setting her cup down on the counter. She looked at him over the top of her glasses, "But seriously, how did you never notice?"

Adrien blushed, "What do you mean? It's not like it was obvious."

She laughed at that. "How can someone really be this oblivious? Think back on all of our school years."

He did as instructed. His mind thought back to all of the awkward stuttering, the inability to hold a conversation with him for many years, all the pictures she had of him… He let out a groan. "How did I never notice?"

"Simple, you were a teenage boy."

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. "Does she still have a crush on me?"

Alya picked up her coffee and shook a finger at him. "Nuh uh. You would have to ask her that yourself. And honestly," she looked back at him over her shoulder. "I don't know what she feels anymore. She hasn't seen you in six years, but she also hasn't really dated anyone since getting Hugo." She gave him a knowing look. "So, you might have a chance."

"No, that's not why I was-" he watched hopelessly as she headed to the living room, ignoring him, "Asking."

The next morning, Adrien ate breakfast before heading to his childhood home. He had had most of his belongings shipped there over the last few weeks to store until he got his own place. Now that he had arrived in Paris himself he had discovered there was enough room in his bedroom at Alya and Nino's to bring some more of his things.

He pressed the buzzer on the front gate and waited for the security camera to come to life.

"Who's there?" Nathalie's voice came through the speaker. The camera moved until it was directed at his face. He raised his hand to wave.

"Hi, Nathalie."

There was no response aside from the camera returning to its place and the buzz of the gate being opened. He walked up the drive, unsure if he should be enjoying the nostalgia he was feeling. His home held many bad memories but there were still quite a few good ones as well. By the time he reached the front door, Nathalie was standing in front of it. The six years had treated her well. She still stood tall and stern, though her hair had begun to gray in some spots.

"Good morning, Adrien. I didn't realize you would be stopping by this morning," she greeted.

Adrien grinned. "Good morning, Nathalie."

She allowed a controlled smile to grace her features before leading Adrien inside the house.

He took in the foyer which still held an air of familiarity. Not much had changed. Some of the pictures that hung along the walls had been replaced with ones from his most recent photo shoots, though even those were outdated by several years. Even the portrait hanging at the top of the stairs was the same. He wondered if he could convince his father to take a new one seeing as this one was more than ten years old.

"Your father is very busy today. I'll check if he has a few minutes to speak with you in between meetings."

Adrien turned to look at Nathalie. He nodded, he hadn't expected his dad to drop everything when he arrived. Maybe that's why he hadn't bothered calling ahead. It certainly lessened the disappointment.

"Sounds good. Thanks, Nathalie. I'll be in my old room." He didn't wait for an answer before heading up the stairs.

Inside his room was much the same as the rest of the house. It felt like stepping back in time. It still held his foosball table and CD collection. There was still the skateboard ramp, rock climbing wall, and basketball hoop- all still in close to pristine condition. Boxes lined the room now, and he began to search through them for some things he wanted.

He found some clothes he had packed away that he still liked because they were part of his "I bought these myself" collection. As well as, some framed pictures of him and his friends, his mom, and him in special places on his travels. He picked up one that was beneath the others and saw a picture of him standing next to a pretty young woman with long dark brown hair. They were standing together in front of a tree full of flowers and he had his arms wrapped around her.

Adrien winced and shoved the picture back down into the box. Still not ready to deal with that then.

Several more minutes passed before there was a knock on the door. "Come in!" he called.

The door opened and Nathalie stepped inside, tablet in hand. "Adrien, your father would like to talk to you." She held out the tablet to him and he saw his father was already present on the screen.

"Good morning, Father," Adrien said.

Gabriel Agreste gave him a once over as he sat behind his desk. "You look well, son."

Adrien fought back a smile. His time abroad had helped to ease the resentment toward his father and now that he had the freedom he had always craved, he found his father's coldness a little amusing. "Thank you. You do too."

"Have you reconsidered your decision to live with your… friends yet?" Gabriel asked coolly.

"I'm happy at their apartment. It's very nice," he answered.

His father had not been happy when Adrien had said he was coming back to Paris but would not be returning home, but Adrien had not left the decision up to discussion. He had gained independence while away and would not lose it now. "That reminds me, when am I scheduled to photograph my first shoot?"

Gabriel sighed, "If you are certain you would rather do photography than modeling, you can assist with a shoot this afternoon. It's a group shoot and the photographer's assistant is unavailable. Meet at the Place des Vosges at one o'clock."

Adrien beamed. "Of course! I won't be late. Thank you, Father."

"And I'll have Nathalie send your bodyguard to pick you up beforehand."

"Father, I can take a taxi or an uber-"

"This isn't about transportation, Adrien. It's about your safety."

It was Adrien's turn to sigh. "I don't need my bodyguard any more. I'll be perfectly safe."

Gabriel opened his mouth to argue but Adrien didn't give him time.

"I have to get going now. I'll set up with Nathalie for us to have dinner. Bye," he said before clicking the end call button at the bottom of the screen.

Nathalie stared at him with wide eyes. He held the tablet out to her. "If you could set up that dinner? As of right now, I'm available all week."

"Of course, Adrien." Nathalie took the tablet, giving him an approving nod. "I'll let you know once I've arranged it." She made her way to the door, pausing just before exiting. "I don't think I've ever seen someone hang up on Gabriel Agreste."

When the door closed behind Nathalie, Adrien stared after her for several moments trying to determine if her comment had been a compliment or not.

As Marinette rode the metro from her home, she thought over her and Alya's conversation from earlier that morning.

The doorbell rang announcing that Alya had arrived to pick up Hugo. Marinette hurried across the room and pulled open the door. "Hey, Alya!" she called behind her as she hurried back down the hall. The apartment was a mess and she knew it. Clothes and toys strewn everywhere. Plates were still set out on the dining table from breakfast and the sink in the kitchen was running.

"Why are you still rushing around?" Alya asked, raising her voice so Marinette could hear her.

Marinette leaned out of her bedroom. "My mom surprised us with breakfast. She only just left." She hurried back down the hall, tucking a white button up shirt into her navy skirt.

"Girl, don't you think you should just tell them you're a tour guide? It's been seven months." Alya beckoned to Hugo who had just stepped into the hall from his room. "Come on, Half-pint. Let's get your shoes on."

He skipped to where Alya was and gave her a hug.

"You know why I can't tell them. It's too embarrassing. Things were going so well with my commissions before, that's why I moved here. They'd want to help, and I can't take anymore of their money." Marinette pulled on her navy vest and began to fix her red ascot into place. She sighed and turned to look at Alya. "I know it's ridiculous to not tell them, but I don't want them to know yet."

Alya shrugged. "It's up to you. But if they knew, I'm sure they'd babysit so you could pick up some more shifts."

Marinette rolled her eyes as she placed the red beret atop her head. "The goal is to work there less, Alya. Not more."

Marinette stepped off the train when she reached her stop. Alya had pestered her constantly to tell her parents when she'd had to take a new job to make ends meet, but she knew she couldn't. It was bad enough she'd been living off of her parents until she was twenty-two. She couldn't go back to asking them for help.

When she entered the guided tours office, Marinette saw her supervisor, M. Legrand, speaking with some of the other guides. He looked up at her entrance. "Ah, Marinette! Just the girl I wanted to see."

"What can I do for you, sir?" she asked.

He held out a plastic button to her. "Please fix this to your vest before today's tours. We just got these in last night."

She took it and read the bright red writing across the white background. Ask me anything! I'm here to help! She forced a smile. "Of course, sir. Looks great!"

He grinned and turned to speak with another guide. Marinette walked to the backroom where the schedule would be posted, the smile sliding off her face as she attached the button. She read her assignments. First one of the day was a full tour of students from the states. She groaned, I hate my job.

Adrien was pretty sure he loved his new job. Sure, he had done some photography assisting while traveling and he had taken some jobs while finishing school, but this – this was a full on Gabriel Agreste fashion shoot. There were eight models and this was the first official fall shoot. However, no one was too excited because today was still the middle of June which meant it was far too warm to be wearing sweaters and long sleeves.

He tried to make the best of it though by being friendly when meeting the models, none of whom he'd met before since they were all about eight to ten years younger than him. The real problems started when he met the photographer.

Bastian DeFranc was in his late thirties to early forties, he was short with thinning black hair and a permanent scowl attached to his face. He had looked less than interested in Adrien when they'd been introduced but Adrien at first assumed he was just all-business. He was wrong.

Thirty minutes after set-up, the first problem appeared. Adrien was fixing the shades to make sure they had the proper tone of a fall afternoon, when he heard the photographer yell, "You have got to be kidding me!"

He set down the shade and hurried over to where the photographer was glaring at one of the female models. She was staring up at him, eyes wide with confusion.

"What? What did I do? I'm not even modeling yet," she asked. She glanced at another model she had been talking to. "We were just waiting for our turn."

The photographer scoffed and grabbed hold of her wrist. She let out a cry of surprise as he held out her arm. "You rolled the sleeves of a Gabriel sweater. What did you think you were doing? It will wrinkle."

Adrien jumped in then, placing a hand on Bastian's upper arm. "M. DeFranc, please."

Bastian huffed and released her arm. "I apologize," he muttered, though his tone conveyed he was anything but apologetic . "I did not realize you were an amateur and didn't know not to do something so stupid."

The other model standing nearby spoke up. "Hey! You know she's only been modelling for a few months. It's not like she did it on purpose." The girl put her arm around the amateur model and led her away while fixing the sleeves.

Bastian rolled his eyes and stomped back to his camera, where he had left a model waiting. Adrien rubbed at his temples. Hopefully, things would cool down from here. He may have been out of Paris for several years, but according the Ladyblog, Hawkmoth was still as active as ever.

They were two hours into the photo shoot and Adrien couldn't wait for it to be over. So far, he'd heard Bastian berate a model for being too tall – calling him an awkward baby giraffe, demanded make up artists to conceal even the slightest freckles across one of the model's arms, ordered a model to go get his hair cut before they could photograph him, and told the design assistant to stuff the top of a sweater dress to "show off the design" better.

There was only an hour left to the shoot and then they'd be out of here. He was debating on offering to buy the models some smoothies after to combat any negative emotions, when the final straw landed.

The models had all lined up for some group shots and Bastian had asked each of them for a different type of look. However, Maya (the amateur model) seemed to be having trouble perfecting her look and posture.

"No! You are too stiff. You are supposed to look happy and carefree. If you keep frowning you will give yourself wrinkles before you're twenty," Bastian lectured.

Maya stared at the ground fists clenched at her sides. It was impossible to miss the tears that began to fall and splash the ground.

Bastian let out a cry of frustration. "And now we will have to do more make up! Kristin, if you please?"

A sob erupted from Maya's throat and she ran to one of the changing tents. Adrien prepared to follow after her, to ensure she wouldn't be akumatized when someone else grabbed the photographer's arm.

"You can't talk to her like that!" it was one of the male models, named Sean. "We're people too. You can't just yell at her. How can she fake being happy if she's trying not to cry because you're a jerk."

The photographer glared up at the teen before brushing away his hand. "Get off the shoot. I'll be letting Gabriel know we don't need unprofessional teens who can't control their emotions."

Sean turned and stormed away, leaving everyone else in shock.

Adrien stepped away a little and looked into his messenger bag. "Hey, Plagg." He waited a moment and then poked the black cat kwami. "Hey, wake up."

Plagg stretched before opening an eye. "What is it?"

"I think someone's going to get akumatized. What do you think I should do?" he asked.

Plagg groaned. "I don't know. I've been out of practice for a while. Either way, if someone is gonna be akumatized, there's nothing we can do about it."

Adrien ran a hand through his hair. "I guess that's true. But maybe I can transform and head it off."

"And it won't be at all suspicious that Adrien Agreste just got back to Paris last night and today Chat Noir is out saving the city?" Plagg asked.

Adrien paused, Plagg's words washing over him. "You're right. I can't even do anything. I'm useless."

Plagg pinched Adrien's hand.

"Ow! What was that for?" Adrien rubbed at the red mark on his hand.

"Just because you can't transform, doesn't mean you can't help keep people safe. You should know that by now."

Adrien smiled, "Right again. Thanks, Plagg." Just then screams broke out on the other side of the park. "Looks like that's my signal. Come on, Plagg!"

Marinette dropped into a chair in the break room of the tour guide office. She had just finished her fourth tour of the day and her feet were aching. Finally, a chance to relax and get off my feet. She pulled off a Mary Jane and rubbed her foot through the stocking.

Just as she leaned her head back against the chair, an alarm went off on her phone. She picked it up.

AKUMA ALERT: NEAR PLACE DES VOSGES. MAINTAIN DISTANCE UNTIL LADYBUG ARRIVES.

She groaned and slid her foot back into her shoe. "Of course. Right when I get a break." She grabbed her purse out of the locker and peered inside. "You ready, Tikki?"

Tikki pushed the last bit of a macaroon into her mouth. "Ready as always, Marinette!"

It only took a few minutes to swing from the guided tours office near the Eiffel Tower to the park and even less time to locate the akuma. Ladybug spotted him shrinking people all across the park and the nearby streets and businesses.

"Wonder what his problem is?" she muttered aloud. Over the years without Chat Noir by her side, she had taken to voicing her thoughts out loud to make up for the silence.

She swung towards the akuma when she caught sight of some civilians hiding behind some cars. Good, at least no one's trying to record it and putting themselves in danger.

Just as she let out a breath of relief, her eyes landed on a man crouching and running back into the park. Straight towards the akuma.

Ladybug dropped to a nearby lamppost and somersaulted through the air to land near him. "It's dangerous over here," she said sternly. Then her eyes took in the man before her: blond hair, green eyes, dashing good looks. Adrien?

He looked just as startled by her sudden appearance. "M- Ladybug?! What're you doing here?" he blurted out.

Ladybug bit her lip to hold back a laugh. "Um, there's an akuma." She pointed to the akuma that was attacking people a few hundred feet away.

He blushed. She had made Adrien Agreste blush! "Right. But what are you doing over here?"

She rolled her eyes. "Removing civilians from danger," she replied matter-of-factly. Then in one swift movement, she picked him up in her arms and carried him to safety.

He was fighting a smile when she dropped him off a block away from the danger. "Thank you, Ladybug, but I was trying to find one of the model's from my father's photo shoot. She was in one of the dressing tents last I saw her."

Ladybug nodded as she backed away. "All right, then I'll go check for her. And next time, M. Agreste, leave the saving to the heroes." She gave him a flirty wink and threw her yo-yo behind her without looking before being pulled away into the sky.

When she landed on a building across from the park she felt as if her face was on fire. Oh my gosh, she thought, when did I turn into Chat?

#miraculousladybug #fanfiction #marauderluverz #wip #adrienette #adrinette #LadyNoir #ladrien #marichat

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kidolegend · 7 years ago

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Renewals - A Prompto Argentum Fic (Part 8)

Previous | AO3 Link

Hey~ So I guess until I catch up with myself as I write this, I’ll try and publish every Monday and Thursday. Also, I don’t write especially long chapters, but this one is a bit longer (mainly cuz I couldn’t figure out where to break it without having a very smol chappy >_> <_<)

Any reblogs, comments, moral support, constructive criticism, or just some hellos are always appreciated~

Tagging: @cupnoodle-queen @blindbae @paopuicecream @xnoctits @themissimmortal @poisonous-panda @noxfreyas @insomniascure @thegoddesseos @crossedquills @sailormars109 @valkyrieofardyn @ultimoogle @drpepper280 @decision-height @lithiumkatana17 @roses-and-oceans @@thirsty-angst-lord @e-addi

Reckless Running

Prompto had been careless. After having fought so many MTs alongside allies who knew what they were doing and how to handle the heavy armors, it never crossed the gunner’s mind to warn his newest companion of the danger she was in.

It wasn’t until he had double-checked his own position that he had realized Aylin was still standing beside the magitek armor, and by then it was too late.

“Aylin, move! The--” Prompto’s howl was inaudible under the armor’s self-destruct sequence processing and he could only watch.

Watch in horror as the mech exploded, throwing Aylin’s body back and engulfing her in a wash of metal and fire.

“N-no!!” He scrambled forward into the flames, ignoring the searing heat that burned easily through his gloves as he kicked and yanked aside debris until he could see her.

She was pinned under what had been one of the magitek armor’s arms, the twisted machinery almost concealing her amidst the smoke.

“Aylin!” Prompto vaulted over the flames to her side, trying to figure out the best way to move the smoldering metal without further injuring her.

She was unconscious and Prompto gritted his teeth, cursing. He lifted the remains of the mech, his arms and legs protesting as he used his weight to get the arm high enough to push aside.

“C’mon, dammit!” Prompto hissed in pain as the red-hot metal scorched through his vest and began burning his shoulder and neck. “Move!!”

There was a terrific grinding noise and the armor suddenly shifted forward, almost causing the blonde to land on Aylin. The flames had melted enough of the armor that it gave way at the arm’s joint, allowing Prompto to shove it aside.

He panted, clutching at his burns and kneeling beside the injured young woman.

His heart plummeted as he adjusted the light on his lapel in order to see her in more clearly than the flickering firelight would allow… and spotted the sharp glint of metal wedged deep into her side.

“No, fuck…” Prompto groaned as he examined the shrapnel. It was a few inches wide, but with the blood soaking into her shirt, Prompto couldn't tell how deep it had cut into her.

All he knew was she needed help, and fast.

He reached around into his pocket and swore again when he grabbed at empty space--his potions! He had taken all the curatives he had with him so there was nothing he could use to help lessen the damage.

“What the hell do I do?!” He mumbled to himself, wishing he had Ignis’ expertise to help guide him. “Damn, uh… shelter. Gotta find shelter.”

It took Prompto a couple of tries to lift Aylin--trying to figure out a good way to carry her was way more difficult than he expected, especially now that his shoulder was searing in pain. He couldn't help but cry out softly as he hoisted her in his arms and headed for one of the standing control booths--It wasn't the best hiding place to keep away from daemons, but he was hoping the bright flames from all the explosions would deter their appearance until he could get help.

He settled with Aylin’s head in his lap, pulling out his (thankfully undamaged) cell phone and scrolling to Ignis’ number.

And stopping.

What if Ignis and Gladio were still fighting at their base? A phone call would at best distract them and at worst jeopardize their whole assault. He couldn’t call them now, not with so much at stake… But...

“Goddammit…” Prompto’s hands began trembling and he stared down at Aylin and he could feel breath catching in his throat as he began to panic. There was no one else he could turn to for help. After all, they were the only friends he had.

Her breathing was labored and her face was contorted in pain. There were patches of bright red skin on her arms, neck, and face, showing where flames had scorched her, as well as cuts and scrapes from both the battle and the explosion. Her shirt was still damp and sticky from the blood oozing out of her side, but with the metal fragment still in place it seemed as if most of the bleeding had stopped.

All in all, it didn’t seem like a very promising situation.

Prompto could feel tendrils of guilt worming their way into his mind, suffocating his thoughts and drowning his confidence. How could he have been so careless? Aylin had been a spectacular ally to fight alongside--she had not only helped him destroy the garrison, but had saved his life multiple times throughout the ordeal, too.

And he returned the favor by blowing her up and watching her bleed to death.

“You lose your friends and kill your family… why, you've no one left.” Cruel words echoed in the gunner’s mind and he flinched, half-expecting to see a tall, imposing figure looming over him.

“Dammit!!” Prompto curled in on himself, his forehead almost touching Aylin’s. He was powerless to do anything to help her.

Who was he to think he could actually pull this off without screwing something up?

What a fucking joke.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered coarsely. “I'm s--!”

He yelped when his cellphone--which had been clenched in his hand--buzzed.

“W-what…?” He stared down at the name in confusion, momentarily thrown out of the beginnings of a panic attack. Sure, they had exchanged numbers in case one of the other guys’ phones were out of commission, but he expected to actually receive a call… At least not from her.

“H-hello, Cindy?”

“Oh, heavens... thank goodness ya answered! Paw-paw just told me one of them airships is headin’ your way! Y'all need to skedaddle, and quick!”

“W-what?!” Prompto exclaimed. “You've got to be kidding me…”

“Take care, y’hear? Head back as fast as ya can.”

Talk about shitty luck. The gunner sighed at his own misfortune. “R-right. Oh, Cindy?’

“Yeah?”

“Have you heard from Ignis or Gladio?”

“Can't say I have, hun.”

Prompto put his phone on speaker and shoved it into his pocket, forcing his battered limbs to move. “If you do, can you tell them to call me right away?”

“Sure thing, just leave it to me.”

“Thanks.”

The line went dead and Prompto lifted Aylin again, the pain in his arm doubling after his short rest. “I c-can do this…”

Cindy's message had come in the nick of time--by the time Prompto had gotten out of the control booth, he could see the headlights or an approaching airship over his head. He had only minutes to make his way to the west side of the garrison before the vessel appeared, its cargo hold opening to drop several MTs into the center of the base.

Prompto pressed against the back wall, biting his lip. The only entrance to the garrison was on the eastern side, but with Aylin cradled in his arms he would have been spotted and shot down before they could escape. He knew there was no way out on the eastern side, but maybe, just maybe the explosion…

Yes!

Prompto checked his surroundings, making sure no MTs would spot him before he ran as quietly and quickly as he could towards the small gap that had been blown open during their assault on the warehouse. It took him a couple of tries but after an excruciating amount of pain, he was able to squeeze the both of them through the hole and out into the desert.

“Gotta keep moving…” He wheezed out, his feet moving automatically. If he could get to Hammerhead, maybe Aylin would have a chance.

But would he be able to make it that far? What about the daemons?

A distant roar answered his fears and he spotted an iron giant on the main road, blocking his way. It hadn’t seen the two wounded humans several yards away but Prompto knew he wouldn’t be able to outrun or combat the daemon if it did.

“Dammit, where…? Ugh, I can't take this anymore,” He lamented, wincing as he adjusted Aylin in his arms. His eyes widened as he stared out towards the east.

A telltale plume of bluish smoke was rising from somewhere close.

“A haven.” Prompto had forgotten about the second campsite on the other side of the stronghold and he praised the Astrals for its existence, struggling over to it.

Surprisingly, two chocobos, a backpack, and a small tent were there to greet him. There was no one else in sight.

“No way… I must be dreaming.” He muttered, trying his best to get Aylin under the shelter of the tent and only managing to get her legs into it.

Well, better than nothing.

Prompto then dragged his feet over to the backpack--It wasn't very nice of him to be using someone else's belongings, but he figured that a dire situation like his warranted enough of an excuse.

He sorted through the bag, relieved to find some bandages, water, and food rations packed in it.

“I'm not sure how this works…” The blonde did his best to pour water and clean off and patch up some of Aylin’s superficial wounds. He paused at the metal still embedded in her side.

It seemed like most of the bleeding had stopped--if the drying blood on Aylin’s shirt was any indication--and he knew from the few first-aid lessons Ignis gave him that he shouldn't pull the metal out.

That'd just make the bleeding a lot worse, wouldn't it? Or maybe he was supposed to pull it out to prevent infection?

“Man…” After deliberating a few moments, Prompto decided to trust his first instinct, leaving it in and doing what he could to clean the wound without aggravating it again.

“There. W-whoa…” Once he straightened back up, a wave of dizziness overcame him. He was finally coming down from the battle-high and his body was responding in kind.

Prompto rolled over onto his back next to her, trying to catch his breath as the adrenaline wore off and pain and exhaustion took over.

One of the chocobos--a white one that had been watching the gunner work--crooned at the disheveled pair, walking over.

“Heya, b-be careful.” Prompto croaked out a warning, hoping the bird wouldn’t step on the young woman. It settled next to Aylin, halfway under the tent itself as it looked over the unconscious woman’s body and then up at him, blinking slowly.

The second, pale green chocobo also sauntered over, trilling at him.

“D-don’t think you… could get some help, could you?” Prompto breathed as it stopped next to him, bending its neck down to nudge his face. It was more gentle than his own chocobo, who was energetic and rowdy at the best of times.

The white chocobo--which had

“A-ah…” Prompto clutched at the burns on his shoulder as the green chocobo nudged his face again with growing persistence, forcing the blonde to sit up. “S-sorry buddy, but I’m hurting real bad right now. W-we can play later.”

The colored bird exhaled in response--almost sounding like an exasperated snort--but it continued scooting Prompto over until it could curl up underneath him, acting like a giant feathery pillow.

“O-oh. Thanks,” The gunner was surprised--both of the birds were extraordinarily gentle and intelligent. They also didn’t seem to be wary of the two humans intruding on the campsite, which was unlike most chocobos, which tended to be flighty around new people.

Prompto gasped, his body jerking in surprise and pain when his cell phone buzzed, startling him. The green chocobo also flinched, letting out a squawk.

“H-hello?”

“Prompto!”

He had never been so happy to hear Ignis’ voice. “Hey Iggy, what’s up…?”

“We just checked in with Cindy and she told us of your predicament. Are you all right?”

“I’ve… Well,” Prompto winced, deciding to be honest. “I’ve been better.”

“Where are you?”

“A haven, it’s west of the base.” The gunner bit his lip as he glanced over at the injured young woman beside him. “I… I can’t make it back to Hammerhead like this, Iggy.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll head towards you now. We encountered Aranea during our assault and she was gracious enough to lend us use of her airship.”

“Aranea, huh?” Prompto couldn’t help but smile at the familiar name. He made a note to himself, promising to do something nice for the mercenary in return for the amount of times she had helped him. “A-awesome. Tell her I said ‘hi’.”

“I expect you shall be able to tell her yourself, once we arrive.” Ignis’ words were layered with meaning and Prompto huffed out a short laugh.

“R-right. You guys might want to hurry.” He looked over at Aylin again and the movement sent a sharp pain through his arm, pulling a groan from his lips. “P-probably lost too much blood…”

“We’re on our way. Hang on, Prompto!”

“Yup, don’t worry about me… I’m not going anywhere.”

#prompto #prompto argentum #ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #pormpto x oc #ff15 #ff15 fanfiction #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #aylin noctua #renewals ffxv

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waalm · 6 years ago

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KEEPING THE SOUL OF THE SONG INTACT

WAALM Tribune has the pleasure of interviewing ‘Peter Linseman’, owner of Music Mentor Productions (MMP), a CCMA nominated recording studio & Independent Record Label.

WT: For our readers who get to know you for the first time, please tell us how did it all start, how you entered the world of music and music productions?

PL: I have always been interested in literature and poetry as a youngster and then started playing the drums in my teens. I played for my first band called The Acrylics when I was 14 or 15 and I remember having to sneak into the bars to play the gigs! It was a punk rock band and I just remember playing as fast and hard as I could, just trying to keep up with the super energetic tempos. I started writing songs on my drums but my lyric sheet was on my tom-tom and I keep poking holes in it! So I started on the guitar, in order to have chords to accompany my songs and melodies. Next, it was finding a way to record the songs and a reasonable way was creating my home studio. And then releasing our songs and also learning how to do that ourselves, same with marketing, etc. etc. Music Mentor Productions started when I created the first Songwriting and Music Business Courses offered in Canada at the continuing education program for the Toronto District School Board in the mid ‘90’s. I registered MMP as a production company and music publisher at that time.

WT: You have several artists under your management, how do you balance this on top of producing, co-writing or even performing?

PL: It's a juggling act at the best of times and I have a few mantras that help me. The mantra I say the most lately is "there is always enough time for everything". Aside from creating a two year and five year career plan, the label and artist have an unending stream of tasks and staying on top of social media is a full time job in itself. So my mantras are "what is the next most important thing to do" and "go as far as you can and from there you can see further". My favourite artists/projects are the ones I get to do it all, especially writing and producing, like my new artist Dr Ally K. I'm so proud of Ally, my long time friend, music collaborator and actual GP Doctor!

WT: What was your biggest challenge as a producer? Could you overcome that challenge? If so, how?

PL: I had an epiphany when I was commissioned to co-write and produce a ten song musical way back! Actually, it was a project that Dr Ally K brought to me – a full-length musical about the world of gene splicing, playing God, letting nature take its course, etc. I'm a ‘hands on’ person and have learned everything by doing it, and with the guidance of some great mentors along the way.

I remember the moment, when I was a couple of songs into the musical and I stopped with a realization that I'm in over my head. The pop opera type songs were fine but the more classically based musical numbers were brand new to me. I thought about the music deeply and remember thinking to myself - there are only 12 notes on a scale and songs/production have similarities across the board, like counter melodies, harmonies, beats, shots, etc. I have never looked back! I finished Orchids with Ally and this musical was attended by thousands including a thousand health-care professionals in the Canada-wide performances of ‘Orchids’.

WT: What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a producer as well as a manager?

PL: Creating music out of nothing has always had the greatest appeal to me personally. The next most appealing aspect is seeing an artist successful in any realm of the entertainment industry, especially getting them 'signed' or helping them up to the top level of the game. A recent and very rewarding occurrence is when Mosi calls me Maestro!

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WT: How do you see the role of music in the society today?

PL: I'd like to think that my role is to create and produce music that can touch as many people as possible. I've always tried to keep the soul of the song intact and simply enhance it with production. My favourite creations have a positive emotional impact whether it's being moved physically, emotionally or spiritually.

WT: In your view, what are the characteristics of a responsible artist/musician/songwriter?

PL: A responsible songwriter/musician needs to be sensitive to the music and its life in the music industry, as well as to the artist and their vision. A responsible artist should realize their position as a highly visible role model/idol and also the ages of their demographics. I believe the best artists in the world are great role models especially for the impressionable demographics.

WT: It is more than five years now that you are collaborating with Mosi Dorbayani and WAALM and during all these years, many notable projects were released. Which ones are among your most favourite, name three?

They have all been memorable and it's hard to pick three! But if I must choose, it would be the songs where I not only get to work with Mosi, but I also have the pleasure of working with Kate Todd and Carla Sacco. These are amongst my favourite people on the planet!

WT: You’ve just co-produced a new EP album ‘Sealed with A Kiss’, with Carla Sacco, who also voiced the project. What is your anticipation?

PL: Carla and I are anticipating a great reception to these wonderful selections of songs, which are all about love and joy. They are each unique and the production has its own little universe for each of them. But as we've always experienced with Mosi's creations, they all have a great commercial appeal and pop sensibility to touch the most amount of hearts. We will also promote these songs that we are also very proud of, starting on the relaunch of my website as well as our social media and anticipate a quick response bringing awareness to WAALM as well as Carla Sacco.

WT: Recently, in his social media, Mosi Dorbayani wrote the following about you:

“ In my view, 'Peter Linseman' is a superstar musician in his own right. He has many slashes (/) after his name but yet humble and friendly. Wearing several hats contributing to Canadian music, he is a dedicated professional, who mentors and promotes young talents. His facilitation to boost artistic career of those who are new to the world of music is exemplary. What I personally admire about Peter is that he does not necessarily produce just for the industry, but for the quality music. Hence, his productions score continuance success.” – How do you see yourself in context of music ? 😊

PL: Mosi is a brilliant man! Wow! What flattering and humbling words from Mosi...it’s a rare feeling in this business but Mosi seems to create this feeling constantly amongst myself and my artists. To answer the question: what he said! Mosi has said it all and as I mentioned earlier, I protect the soul of the creation and at the same time support it with production that has a very wide audience and appeal, which is a lot like what Mosi creates.

WT: What music enthusiasts should expect from you in 2019? Tell us about your other forthcoming projects and events.

PL: There are many great projects being released internationally including this EP, ‘Sealed With A Kiss’ with Carla Sacco, which I am very excited about. As I mentioned previously, I am re-launching my new website and also a new Facebook page for my independent label Music Mentor Productions.

We are releasing a six song EP for my new artist Dr Ally K as we speak. I am so proud of the work that Ally and I have done together and have mentioned some of our previous collaborations in this interview. Every track on this EP is cutting edge urban pop production with a great lyrical message. Up, Up & Away - EP by Dr Ally K on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/album/1aArMYujAxVAz1he5K24cY

We will be launching an album that has been in the works for a few years called ‘Out Of The Wreckage’ by a brilliant artist name Melanie Joy. We have gone over the songs meticulously in the production stages and Melanie is an English major and uses it to write lyrics that make you stop and think!

We will be releasing some original music from Carla Sacco this year and it will be the launch of a new chapter in her solo artist career. Carla is super talented on all levels, the greatest vocalist and performer I’ve had the pleasure of working with, an angel on this earth with a heart of gold...I’ve stopped searching Neil Young! Carla is also the chosen voice to represent and incredible songwriter from Oregon, Mina Whitesides and we will release an EP with a collection of songs sung by Carla, initiated by Mina.

We've already released the single ‘Dance Children Dance’ and we released an inspiring video, with most of it being shot at Carla’s performance at Youth Day in 2018.

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We have just released John Chris Ford’s heart breaking new single called ‘Break It’. http://www.musicmentorproductions.com/john-chris-ford.html

JC is a very talented country artist whom I am proud to get the opportunity to produce and manage. There is a lot more to come in 2019, so keep in touch!

WT: Thank you for taking time attending this interview.

PL: My pleasure.