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greywindys · 5 years ago

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I had a fic I was working on for 2Doc week, but it betrayed me and turned angsty when I wanted something softer. So instead, I thought I could share a fic I never published, and I believe the first fic I ever wrote (dated in Google as complete on June 17th, 2016. Holy moly!)

It fits into day 3′s prompt of firsts - the first night the spent together on good terms. The beginning of the bond, I guess. It could also be considered the first head massage (lmao), as I like to think 2D is good with his hands in various scenarios 😉. (I adapted the head massage into scenes in later fics, but this was the first time I worked with it as a concept.)

If there are any “M” or “D” I apologize! When I was starting out, I was too self-conscious to write their entire names (lmao @ me). Oh, how things have changed. Hopefully, I corrected them all, along with most of the typos...

The rating here is T. Essentially, Murdoc encounters 2D late at night when he can’t sleep, and ends up watching a movie with him. They begin to form a tentative bond, head massages are had as much needed sleep. Takes place during P1.

Also happy bday again, Murdoc 😭

For Murdoc, sleeping is a daunting game of chance. First, there are the good nights, when he drinks enough to remain in a complete stupor until daylight. Then, there are the bad nights when his body’s need for genuine slumber catches up with him. On these nights, he dreams. More often than not, they come to him in the form of nightmares ranging from painfully specific to vague and unsettling. Like a flood, all of the emotions and thoughts he had intended to leave behind in Stoke return.

Tonight is one of those nights.

This one, in particular, is the reason he’s left the grimy safety of his Winne, head still aching. He intends to rummage through the studio mini-fridge for the half-consumed bottle of rum he started that morning. (after all, his anxiety wasn’t going to fix itself). Instead, he's thrilled to discover the fridge has been restocked, and he's about to grab an unopened bottle of rum when he's interrupted by a crash coming from the direction of the lobby.

The noise is coming towards the kitchen now in slow, shuffling steps. Murdoc presumes it could either be one of the wayward demons he summoned the other day, or it could be another one of the building's many intruders looking for a blank wall to vandalize. Nothing he wants to deal with now in his anxious state. Murdoc considers making a run for his Winnebago but decides against it. ‘You’re Murdoc Niccals” he thinks to himself, ‘Bass god and creative genius. You're not ten anymore and you don't get scared.' With that, he braces himself and he turns to face the unknown figure that was now in the doorway.

“Oh...Hi, Murdoc.”

It’s 2D.

“I've got half a mind to lob you through another car window,” he says trying to mask his surprise. “What the hell are you doing walking around with the lights off in the middle of the night?” That must have been the source of the noise. Typical. It’s as if 2D is intentionally searching for a way to get injured.

2D scratches his head. “No need to get so steamed up about it. I, uh, well, I guess I was trying to keep to the ambiance and all that. I didn’t think anyone else would be awake right now.”

“I don’t know what’s so unexpected. I get more done in a night that you would in a year,” Murdoc replies. He takes a sip of one of the bottles of rum he’s assembled on the counter. “So long as there are still songs to write, the siestas can wait.”

“Not sleeping well then?” 2D asks blithely. Murdoc can’t tell if the singer has seen right through him or failed to comprehend a word of what he just said. He finds him very unreadable at times, and in the most infuriating way.

“No. I was working. Being productive. You ought to try it once in a while,” Murdoc grumbles in response. “Anyways. What’s all this about the ‘ambiance’?” As if 2D is that deep. “And why here?”

“That new zombie movie, you know the one I was telling you about? Well, it arrived today,” 2D says with a grin. “And now I’m watching it. It’s a lot scarier when you do it the dark.”

“Well you have a TV, no, THREE TVs in your room,” Murdoc retorts, exasperated. “Just go away and watch it there.”

“Yeah, uh, l thought about that, but the special effects in this one are supposed to be wicked good and the screen in the lobby has a clearer picture than the screens in my room. I would have watched it this afternoon, but Russel said Noodle shouldn’t be watching all the blood and guts, so I waited until now. It’s better watching scary movies late at night anyway, you know?” 2D is looking at Murdoc now, a tinge of hopefulness in his voice. “A couple blokes on this forum I was reading were describing it like a Romero meets Raimi type film, really over the top.”

“Sounds like a real Oscar winner you have there,” the sarcasm in Murdoc’s voice is palpable.

“Actually, it was a straight to video release, but you should check it out,” 2D says. “I’m only about ten minutes in now...if you have...time,” he trails off awkwardly.

The band had faced many inexplicable and absurd situations, but it is 2D’s consistent attempts to be friends that confounded Murdoc the most. His first inclination to tell the singer to fuck off. Yet the thought of the solitary journey back through the car park gives him pause. He isn't sure he can handle being alone right now. He needs an immediate distraction, a mood lifter, and making fun of 2D has the potential to be a two in one solution. At the very least, it was a safer gamble than going back and running the risk of falling asleep again.

Murdoc makes 2D wait for an answer in uncomfortable silence before replying. “Fine,” he says, “This better be entertaining.”

2D brightens at his response. “Just let me grab some snacks and then we can go back.”

“Yeah, yeah. Oh, and this time turn on the damn lights.”

With some newly acquired light and a bag of crackers in hand, 2D leads Murdoc to the lobby. A collection of pillows and blankets litter the floor. All the while, and to Murdoc’s annoyance, he takes the time to tell him every detail of the conception of his setup. He had been in the lobby for the past four hours watching movies. According to 2D, doing so in such an open area was much scarier than in his room or even in the building’s cinema. He was also sorry because they would have to turn the lights off again when the film starts. “Because well, you know, Muds. The ambiance.”

“Just start the bloody movie will you,” Murdoc replies from his spot on the floor. The size of Kong is intimidating at night, and it’s not helping him calm down. He hates how much his dreams still affect him. Physically, he had left all the bad energy behind ages ago, but mentally it follows him like a low-hanging mist, threatening to completely engulf him daily. He couldn't seem to make it go away, but he could control how much he thought about it. Alcohol was typically his mainstay but right now, that job belonged to an unwitting 2D. If he didn’t start the movie soon, Murdoc was going to set his entire movie collection on fire.

“It’s the little triangle that does the trick, right?” 2D asks as he studies the remote. “Never mind. I think I have it. There we go.”

The scene starts with a group of young adults in their twenties hiking through the woods as night falls. Occasionally, the camera switches angles. It shows the group from alternate perspectives such as the bushes or the tops of trees.

“The director wanted to flip the whole slow zombie portrayal on its head,” 2D explains. “There’s already been talk of fast zombies in the indie horror community, but he wants to take that one step further. In an interview, he said that not only were his zombies going to be fast, but they were also going to fly.”

“That’s stupid. And you thought this was worth the twenty or so quid you blew on it?”

“He’s ahead of his time. You’ll see. Look,” 2D says through a mouthful of crackers. He points to the current scene. One of the protagonists had wandered away from his group in search of a good place to set up camp. “See what he does with the camera there? We’re watching the main character from the perspective of a flying zombie. The director wanted to make a movie about an outbreak that emerges in the wilderness, not because of some virus. It's meant to add to the impossibility of the situation. How do we fight against something not man-made? Watching the film through the eyes of the monster emphasizes how alone and insignificant we are in the face of well, everything. Man versus nature, nature versus man.”

Murdoc grabs the bag of crackers from 2D. “Oh please. This is hardly cutting edge. We all know they’ll all be dead in the end because nature is bigger than man. Duh.” He takes a handful for himself and continues watching.

2D ignores him and continues his reflection. “It makes me wonder whether it would be better to be a zombie at the end, rather than survive. Not sure I would want the loneliness that comes with it.”

Murdoc is beginning to realize that 2D is in one of his chatty, philosophical moods. He attempts to tune out the singer’s blathering with another drink from the bottle of rum he brought with him from the kitchen. He came here to watch a ridiculous movie. Instead, he's stuck listening to banal musings about the true nature of humanity from someone with a half-functioning brain.

“Well if there’s ever a zombie apocalypse here, I’ll be sure to let them eat you first if you’re so eager. You’re already halfway there anyway, and certainly no better off than these divs on screen.”

“Thanks, Muds. If I ever get infected, I’ll make sure not to bite you...unless you want me too,” 2D replies.

This time, it’s Murdoc's turn to ignore him. “Anyways, as far as I’m concerned, anyone who’s too pathetic to fight against a zombie apocalypse deserves whatever is coming to them.” He gets a twisted sense of comfort from blaming.

“I dunno...I don’t see any shame in being afraid of a monster bigger than you. That’s what makes these movies so scary. We all have our own monsters that seem impossible to overcome,” 2D says sagely. “It’s not anyone’s fault, it’s just how it is.”

Murdoc scowls. “Does watching movies at this hour always turn you into a half-braindead Socrates? Or Plato? Hippocrates? He's just naming names now. He fidgets.

On-screen, another character screams as one of the zombies bites her arm.

“Are you alright there, Muds?” Why did 2D have to pick up on everything? “Movie too scary for ya?”

“No!” Murdoc snaps. “It’s not that… It’s just...” Neither 2D nor the rum he grabbed from the fridge earlier had done anything to dull his current bout of nerves. Instead, all the tension has been gathering at the base of his neck. The throbbing in his head from before is even worse. He groans in frustration.

“You just seem a little on edge, that’s all.”

“...It’s my head.”

“Oh, you have a headache,” 2D says, seemingly pleased that it’s an issue well within the breadth of his expertise. “Do you need any help with it? I was talking with my mum about mine just last week; she gave me something good.”

Murdoc perks up. He could count on one hand the number of scenarios where he would place his trust in 2D. Pain medicine was one of them. A strong painkiller could change everything. “Do you happen to any of those buggers with you now?”

“Sure,” 2D says, smiling as he moves closer to where Murdoc is sitting.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m um, well for this to work I’m actually going to have to touch your head.”

Immediately, Murdoc jerks away. “You what?!”

2D shrinks back in response. “It’s just a head massage, Muds. My mum’s worried about the number of prescriptions I have so we cut one of the stronger ones out and replaced it with this. We wanted to see if it made a difference. I’ve been going to a massage therapist for the past two weeks or so. It doesn’t quite do the trick but it works well enough, I picked up some technique myself, uh, I think.”

“You can take all that geeky zen rubbish and sod off,” Murdoc mutters.

“Okay, Muds...alright.”

They continue watching the screen as victim after victim gets infected. 2D continues to interject with overlong descriptions about symbolism, zombie lore, and film technique. Murdoc weighs his options. If he’s being honest, he’s at a point where he would accept anything that might make him feel better. But why did it have to be 2D? On the other hand, the singer wouldn’t stop talking. Considering it was just the two of them, and no one else would ever have to find out, Murdoc makes his decision. Allowing 2D to touch his head in this scenario was justified. Interrupting yet another explanation about the folly of man, he asks, “Hey uh...2D? You know that massage you were talking about? Will giving me one make you shut up for more than ten minutes?”

“Oh..uh,” 2D sounds surprised. “Yeah. Yeah, we can give it a try.” Hesitantly, he moves behind Murdoc and begins.

2D’s fingers send tiny sparks along Murdoc’s scalp as he kneads the muscles in his forehead, moving downwards along his hairline. He dwells on how amazing it feels but pushes that thought to the side with haste. He keeps his eyes locked on the screen and the excessive depictions of gore and chaos. It’s an apt representation of turmoil he is currently feeling inside. What he finds so maddening about 2D, even more than his inscrutability and empty-headedness, was his willingness to be kind to Murdoc. Murdoc had spent the past twenty or so years convincing himself that kindness was not meant to be a part of his life. There was something inherent to his existence that repelled it from him. And he had come to accept that until 2D had to come along and mess it all up. It had to be because he was just too stupid, there was no other answer. Murdoc wasn’t sure he would be able to handle any other answer.

As 2D moves his hands to the back of Murdoc’s head, he begins softly humming. He begins following along to the soundtrack of the movie but soon trails off on his own. Evidently, watching the movie without any sort of verbalization was not going to happen. However, the melody he’s come up with is wistful and soothing. Murdoc makes a mental note to ask him about it in the morning to see if it would fit with some lyrics he had drafting. Slowly, and a bit self-consciously, Murdoc feels himself begin to relax.

“How does it feel so far? Is it working?” 2D asks.

Oh, it was working. More than that, Murdoc realizes a significant amount of his tension had abated. The darkness of the lobby no longer looks so menacing, the unpleasant memories that were hovering over him seem to have floated away. He's never been able to settle himself down from a bad night without copious amounts of alcohol. It’s an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation.

“I think the movie is almost over. Didn’t quite live up to the hype but it was still pretty entertaining after all. How about you?” 2D asks, still looking for a response.

Murdoc yawns. “I’ll give this director you were so excited about some credit. He knows his way around a good death scene. I don’t think I’ve ever seen fake blood used that way before.”

“The fake blood actually cause a lot of controversies because some of it was real animal blood. I almost didn’t buy it myself.”

“Ah. A man after my own heart.” 2D’s hands are still kneading the back of his head when Murdoc moves to lie down on his stomach.

“Oh, are you going to sleep now?” 2D asks.

“No. Keep going.” He would have never considered it earlier in the night but, as the singer's fingers continue to run through his hair, Murdoc muses that sleep may not sound so bad after all. Even though it was just 2D, it’s comforting to have him there.

“So I guess it’s been helping then? My mum will glad to hear,” 2D says. “But you might want to run a comb through your hair a bit more often, it’s all greasy...also a bit tangled in the back.”

“Just...shut up.”

So he does, returning to the reflective melody he had been humming just minutes ago. It’s the singer’s soft croon that sticks in Murdoc's mind as he finally drifts off completely.

-------

When his eyes open, the first thing Murdoc notices is the half-empty bottle of rum he had left by his side. The next thing he notices is that he's still in the lobby, surrounded by blankets. He must have slept there the entire night.

“Oh, morning, Muds,” comes a familiar voice just to the right of him. “You’re awake.”

Turning quickly in the direction of the voice, Murdoc finds himself face to face with 2D. “What the hell are you still doing here?” M demands, mortified, “Why didn’t you go back to your own room?”

“Well, I was going to do that, but once you laid down, I wanted to lay down too, and you rolled over on my arm and wouldn’t budge. I tried to tell you, but all you did was try and elbow me. You missed though,” 2D mumbles. It sounds like he’s still half asleep. “Then I guess I just nodded off.”

Murdoc feels his embarrassment beginning to morph into anger but decides to ignore it. He's pretty comfortable right where he is. “You’re lucky you’re my lead singer.” 2D was also lucky that he gave good head massages. “Because otherwise, you would be on some really thin ice right now.”

“We’ll be lucky to see any ice at all this winter what with all the warm weather.”

Usually, an obtuse response from 2D would have earned him a string of insults or a swat on the head. Today was not going to be one of those days. Murdoc turns again so that he’s facing away from the singer, pulling the blanket over his head to block out the light. He was going to savor the moment a bit longer. Despite 2D being 2D, it’s rare that he’s ever felt so at peace.

“Hey, Murdoc? Wait,” 2D says, “You never gave me my arm back.”

“Too bad. I’ll check back in a couple hours,” Murdoc grins beneath the blanket. He still couldn’t pass up a chance to inconvenience the singer at every opportunity. It was too much fun.

“Don’t be such a wanker,” 2D says as he attempts to jerk his arm out from underneath the bassist. “I was nice to you!”

He was right. And he was probably nicer than he deserved, given their history. For that reason, Murdoc would roll off his arm soon enough. He still wanted to talk to him about that song he had been humming.

The singer had surprised him last night. Murdoc knew that 2D had an uncanny ability to figure out how to annoy him to maximum effect, but he never would have expected him to also know what to do to put him at ease. Underneath the covers, he ponders what exactly this realization means to him. He isn’t sure, but he knows it means something. It wasn’t going to eliminate the underlying resentment he still clung to, nor was it going to solve his infinite list of issues. But at the very least, he could rest assured knowing that he wasn’t completely alone.

#ficpost #2doc week 2020 #it's interesting to reflect on what's changed #anyhow! just a little thing to close out the week

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scullysexual · 4 years ago

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A Jewel Beneath The Moonlight [Reposted. Anniversary]

Jewel is one year old! In order to celebrate what is probably my greatest achievement in fic I’ve decided to re-release all the chapters. Not much has changed in terms of story but I’ve gone through and edited/fixed any typos and weird sentences that have popped up now and then. Me and my blog have both grown so much since writing this that I’m sure there’s many of you who have yet to have read or seen this before. So here you have it…my lil baby.

- - -

Chapter One

A cloud of heavy smoke rises from the four vapers, covering the clear sky above and littering it with stuffy grey puffs. People scramble about up and down the dock, trying to keep family members together as they rush to get through the gates. Others stand there gawking at the ship. For those not boarding it’s simply a day out; The greatest ship ever built, they call it and those who live nearby wasn’t about to miss out on such a historic day as this.

Mulder stares at it, surprised at just how wonderstruck he is with it. He never put much stock in the rumours when it was being built believing that she was just going to turn out as all those before her had. That the rumours were just that.

But he was wrong. Never in his life had he seen a ship as large as the one that towers over him.

He turns to Phoebe, reaching out for her hand as she climbs out of the cab.

“What do you think, dear?” Mulder asks as he helps his fiancé down. “Are you impressed?”

To no one’s surprise, Phoebe only scoffs at the ship, its presence not changing her mood in the slightest.

“It’s not as grand as the Mauretania.”

Bill Mulder chuckles behind them, handing their luggage to his man-servant, Krycek as the boy passes them onto a baggage handler.

“It’s much bigger than the Mauretania,” he says, ready to quote every fact he had memorised from the London Herald about the ship. “And much more luxurious,” he adds.

Phoebe only huffs, clearly becoming uninterested in their current conversation.

“Careful Fox,” his father warns him. “Hard one to please, that one.” Mulder only manages an uncomfortable laugh already well aware at the difficulties that come attached to Phoebe Green.

With time running out, they begin to make their way towards the ship, weaving their way through the crowds, Phoebe turning her nose up at every person not dressed to the nines, going as far as to dramatically balk and cover her nose as a lower-class foreigner runs across their path.

“Filthy immigrant,” Phoebe scorns at the innocent man. Mulder tries not to let his disgust show at Phoebe’s words, they’re excused after all and Mulder rolls his eyes at the clear disrespect his people show towards those less fortunate.

“He’s just trying to get to the ship, Phoebe.”

“Yes, well, maybe he should hurry to a bath instead.”

Mulder ignores her words, instead guiding her through the swarming crowds.

“Honestly Bill,” Mulder’s mother pipes up. “We couldn’t have gotten here earlier rather than scurrying around the docks like rats?”

“I was all packed and ready to go,” Bill says and indicates to the pair in front of him. “It was those two who weren’t.”

Mulder sighs. If anything, it was Phoebe who they had been waiting for.

“We did try to hurry, Mother. Phoebe couldn’t decide what to wear.”

Phoebe scoffs once more. “It’s not my fault that you told me to change.”

“I just thought you would get too warm wearing black all day.”

“I’m in mourning Fox,” Phoebe cries. “The weather doesn’t change that.”

Mulder resists sighing again. Phoebe had been mourning for weeks now. The loss of their baby had brought on this spontaneous trip. Phoebe, done with London and “wanting to get away from all the bad memories” all but demanded that they leave for America as soon as possible. A chance for a new start, she told him afterwards. They could get married here and start again. Next thing Mulder knew, he was packing his bag and going back to a country he hadn’t seen since childhood.

He felt trapped somehow, and it had nothing to do with the swarms of crowds. This was inside him. A cage or a hole he’d put himself in. One he wasn’t going to get out of any time soon.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

She’s been sitting on this bench for what feels like hours now. The stuffy bar overcrowded with sight-seers only now they’ve done the sight-seeing and want to do some drink-beering.

She was told ten minutes. Ten minutes and they’d be looking for a ferry to take them back to Ireland. Dana was done with the place. Southampton was the same as everywhere else in England they’d been- the same people, the same scorning looks they’d get no matter where they go, the same rejections. It’s only a number of times a person can hear ‘no’ before they never want to hear the word again.

Her brother, however, had other ideas. They only came into the bar to ask if there were any ferries available to take them home and somehow Charlie had managed to be roped into a game of poker by a bunch of Norwegians who barely spoke any English between them.

The game had currently been going on for a lot longer than the ‘few minutes’ she was promised.

Dana sighs, shifting in her seat to get comfortable. She’d order a drink if Charlie wasn’t currently gambling away their last penny.

“You lonely, luv?” Dana turns towards the speaker. His cockney accent thickened by the slurring of his words. “Ye want sum comp’ny?”

He stumbles towards her, catching himself on the rickety table and smiles at his clumsiness. Dana attempts to shuffle further back into the bench, failing.

“I’m fine,” she says turning away and hoping the man would take the hint.

But he presses on.

“Are ye sure?”

“Aye. I’m sure.” She gets up before the man can say anything else, and heads over to Charlie’s table.

The boy is in full concentration mode. Lip caught between his teeth, eyes scanning his cards and the card laying down on the table. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Countless of times Dana has watched him play, never learning from the mistakes he’s made in previous games. This gambling addiction he’s seemed to have developed has cost them a lot in the finance department, a cost that Dana is not too happy about.

She taps him on the shoulder.

“Charlie, I want to go.”

“Hold on a second…”

His tongue replacing his lip, Charlie gives one nervous glance around at his fellow players.

“Charlie, we need to go.” She tries not to sound like she’s whining, he’s her younger brother for God’s sake, a child, she shouldn’t have to whine.

Charlie ignores her, a smile breaking out across his face.

“I’m sorry, lads.” He places his cards on the table, his smile turning cocky as he reaches over to take his earnings. Dana doesn’t miss the two pieces of paper lying on top of the money.

A large hand grasps Charlie’s. His grin falls as he stares in fear at the man.

“He cheat!” The man yells. With his hand still firmly wrapped around Charlie’s arm, he yanks him forward across the table, his other hand a fist that falls down and smashes straight into his face.

“Charlie!” Dana screams as his body falls slump against the oak. The man backs off as the bar grows quiet, ignoring the winnings that fall onto the floor.

With all concern for her brother, Dana rushes to his side, her hand falling on the boy’s face, wiping away the blood that drips down from his wound. You feckin’ idiot…she thinks.

Charlie’s eyes open slowly, despite the pain with smile it back.

“I won, Dana,” he tells her. “We’re going to America.”

Dana frowns, bewildered for the moment at what Charlie could possibly be talking about until her eyes fall to the two pieces of paper that lay on the ground. Realisation sets in and she reaches down to pick them up, turning them over to read.

The words White Star Line stare back at her. She looks from the paper in her hand to the ship outside and back to Charlie.

“You’re…you’re not serious?” she asks, full astonishment.

“Yep. Fecker put his ticket down as payment,” Charlie all but shouts.

Dana stares back at the ticket. She was really about to go to America and board the Titanic to get there.

“You’re gonna wanna be quick,” a fella beside them tells them. He points to his clock on the wall. “Boat leaves in ten minutes.”

At that, Charlie hauls himself off the table as the two siblings begin pushing what money remains on the table into their only bag, not caring for the coins that had fallen onto the floor.

“Hurry up!” Charlie urges her as Dana ties up the bag. “Come on, come on.” He takes the bag throwing it over his shoulder and grabs his sister’s hand, all but dragging her out of the bar.

They weave their way through the people, Charlie up front and Dana falling slightly behind. She fists her skirt in her palms, pulling it up so as not to trip over it, keeping her eye on Charlie ahead of her and praying she doesn’t lose him.

They almost collide with everything; people, a cart selling vegetables, a horse and carriage until finally they make it, out of breath and clutching at their tickets.

“Right, give me your tickets,” the crewman orders, his fingers making a grabby motion. They hand them over and the man all but snatches it out of their hands. His nose turns up when he reads the names.

“Leif and Ingrid Brevik?” he asks, sceptically.

Dana looks nervously at Charlie, worried that they had just ran all this way, got excited for a new future, just to be turned away at the doors once more.

“Aye, we’re Americans.” Charlie tells him doing nothing to mask his thick Irish accent.

The crewman gives once last glance at the ticket and them. Sighing and probably done dealing with steerage who’s English is minimal he accepts the tickets.

“Get in before I change my mind.”

Relieved, the pair rush in just as the crewman shuts the door.

They make their way down the crowded corridor. People stand looking at the various signs that point in directions of rooms, bathrooms, and general communal areas. They argue, an overload of different words muddled together to make one distorted language.

Dana isn’t paying attention, however. Her eyes switch from the number written down on the ticket to the numbers written on the doors either side of them. Charlie had gotten distracted, eyeing up every pretty lass that they walked past and Dana had ripped the paper out of his hands. If he wasn’t going to find their room, she will.

She finds it eventually. 23, near the end of the corridor. Charlie eyes up Room 24.

“Reckon a lass lives in there?” he asks.

Dana focuses on unlocking the door, a sly grin appearing on her face.

“I hope it’s a fat old man with a foot infection.” She looks up only to see the look of disgust appear across her brother’s face.

The door opens to their room. A single bunkbed, a desk and chair with a lamp set upon it, and a chest of drawers are the only furniture that occupy the room.

Charlie shares her sentiments exactly.

“Beats the cargo hold on a ferry.” He throws the bag onto the chair and proceeds to climb to the top bunk.

She stops him before he can claim it.

“Piss off, I get top bunk.” She grips the back of his shirt, yanking him off the ladder.

“Careful!” Charlie cries. “I’m already injured.”

“So move out the way before I injured you even more.”

He does as he’s told, not without pulling a face beforehand, and throws himself on the bottom bunk.

Dana lies down, thankful to be in a bed that actually feels like a bed and not a brick.

“Hey, Dee?” Charlie calls after a moment of silence.

“Yeah?”

“Are you worried?”

Dana thinks for a second, curious as to what Charlie thinks she should be worried about.

“About what?” she asks.

Silence passes and she waits for an answer.

“Nothing,” the boys says. “It’s nothing. We got nothing to be worried about.”

Frowning and profoundly confused, Dana decides to leave it.

Another bout of silence passes and perhaps Charlie’s fallen asleep, at least she thinks that until she hears his voice again.

“Hey, Dee?”

“What?”

“Do you still have that first-aid kit in the bag? My face is throbbing.”

#a jewel beneath the moonlight #chapter 1 #updated #anniversary repost #i write

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the-caffeine-hero · 4 years ago

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To Hault An Icarus

Kurapika has never been one to waste time, even at his own expense. Perhaps a phone call from a friend can change his mind?

Cross Posted on AO3

The night was quiet as week-old death. The only semblance of noise was the click of a computer mouse and the squeak of a desk chair. How long had it been since he had gotten up? Hours? Perhaps even days? No one would be able to tell. The layer of dust around the room stood as a symbol of time past. In most situations, dedication of this magnitude would be considered impressive, even inspiring. The young blonde with undereye bags that seemed to overflow with more than just lack of sleep continuously scanned his eyes across the lit-up screen. His eyes momentarily darted to the on-screen clock only to see a stark 4:00 AM taunting him. The sun would rise soon enough. He leaned back in the chair while running a hand through hair that upon closer inspection had seen better days. Split ends, sporadic tangles, and a light covering of grease was a telltale sign of the young man's lack of care and loss of time. Time was a curious thing for the man as there wasn’t nearly enough of it. He didn’t want to waste a minute, there weren't enough seconds in the day for him to slow down.

Slender fingers lightly grazed the dangling red earring in his left ear. It was a traditional piece, crafted from the brightest ruby one had ever seen. The young man had very little left physically of his clan as they are long since gone. Even his clothing that fitted loosely over his body were that of a more metropolitan kind. His eyes trailed to the traditional Kurta clothing hung up gently in the closet which too carried a thin layer of dust on them. The young man could only think of the inevitable dust that the remains of his clan have become. His eyes clenched shut, his nose scrunching up as well before he shook his head before returning to the screen in front of him. He had not a single second to waste. Not when his clan had their seconds snatched away from them.

Before the young man could fully fall back into the seemingly endless void that was his research, a soft vibration buzzed against his thigh. He seemingly tried to ignore the sensation only to feel the vibrations over and over again. The young man took a deep breath, seemingly centering himself before begrudgingly pulling his phone out of his pocket and leaning back in the office chair, holding the phone above him as the light poured over his soft yet cracked features. The time was 4:03 AM and he had two missed calls from a certain med student. A small and almost sad smile graced the man's chapped lips. His arms slowly moved to his sides, about to slide the phone back into his pocket before that familiar vibration shook through his hand. Once again, the persistent med student called. The blonde stared down the phone with tired eyes. Who was he to answer? Did he deserve that right? Slowly the young man's fingers maneuvered into a tight fist, clenching tightly at his left side, seeming to ground him. He brought the same hand up to the phone in the other as it shook, hovering over the accept icon on the screen. If almost taunting the young man, just as his finger hit the screen, the call was dropped. The blonde's jaw clenched and his lips pursed into a tight line. The phone screen only showed another missed call and the time in a bright white reading 4:04 AM.

A new sound was the soft thump of his phone falling to the ground as he returned to the hunched position over the laptop in front of him. The screen had grown slightly dark from the lack of use over the course of just a few minutes. The top of the screen was littered with multiple open tabs with no discernible order. Each tab contained a news article or perhaps a local auction with even the slightest link to the coveted scarlet eyes. There wasn’t much on this version of the internet, yet it would be a waste not to try. Internet cafes closed and being tracked by a Hunter’s License really wouldn’t be the smartest move for anyone, nevermind a young man chained in a web of constant underworld doings and dangerous situations. As his eyes scanned the most recent news article, he reached for a scrap paper and a pen to write down a reminder to verbally pursue one of his many leads. There were many of these scrap papers littered over the desk, the handwriting varying from neat to nearly illegible. As he hurriedly wrote down a couple of words, a jarring and frankly generic ringtone rang through the air causing him to jump in his seat as his head whipped towards the phone taunting him from the floor. He quickly swooped the phone up and to his ear, pressing the accept symbol on the way up.

“Hello?” He answered with clear aggression laced in his voice.

“Kurapika, it's Leorio. Are you okay, man?” A voice responded seemingly not acknowledging the malice in the blonde's voice. For a moment, it was silent. Was he okay? He was alive and that was enough, right?

“I am. Is this an emergency?” Kurapika responded formally as he stiffened in place involuntarily preparing for the groan that was about to come from Leorio.

“I can’t just call to check up on you? You didn’t respond to any of us last week for your birthday so I personally think it’s reasonable for us to be a little worried.” Leorio said, each word growing in volume as if he was trying to drill the words into Kurapika’s mind. At the mention of his birthday, his shoulders dropped from their tightened position. He hadn't even noticed.

“My apologies for concerning you. I am fine. If that’s all you needed..” Kurapika began, responding as he always did to these types of calls before he was cut off.

“I don’t believe you. The last time I saw you, you looked like a walking corpse for God’s sake!” Leorio exclaimed through the phone, the volume causing Kurapika to pull the phone away from his ear slightly. “When was the last time you ate or slept? I know damn well you haven’t been keeping up with yourself hygienically either. Even if I wasn’t your friend, I’m gonna be a doctor one day. It would be insane for me to let you just kill yourself like this.” Leorio scolded over the phone, each word rushing out with the knowledge that the call could be ended at any moment. A slight wave of shame washed over the blonde. How long had it been since he ate? He wasn’t sure. That previous silence held in the air again, neither one knew how to respond. It was Leorio that broke the silence. “Listen…” he began, his voice unsure. “I know you like to do things on your own but you’re gonna burn yourself out. I’m not saying you need to stop. I’m just saying you gotta take a second to breathe.” He continued with a voice laced with a subtle pleading tone. “I don’t care how many times you try to push us away. Gon, Killua, and I care about you, man.” Leorio added on with a once again hurried voice. Kurapika stood silent, his eyes almost glazed over, as he felt his free hand twitching. He pulled the phone away from his ear, his eyes quickly scanning the phone for the time. It was 4:08 AM. His eyes trailed back to the laptop screen which has once again grown to the darken energy saver mode due to the lack of use. He was wasting time.

“Your concern is appreciated but not necessary. I am perfectly fine, Leorio. I will talk to you another time. Get some sleep yourself.” Kurapika mindlessly responded before hanging up the phone and returning to his seated position, quicking jogging the laptop awake. There wasn’t a moment to waste yet he continued to clutch the phone in his hand while trying to return to the task at hand. He couldn’t let the phone fall out of his hand again, it somehow was glued to him. Even as he maneuvered from website to website, the phone did not leave his palm.

It was 4:10 AM when he felt a buzz in his hand. It took only a moment but he pulled his tired eyes away from the laptop screen to see a text message from Leorio. It was long and had typos scattered through it yet the last clearly written phrase took him back.

“I know your revenge is important to you but don’t you think that your clan would want to see you live instead of just survive? The life you’re living isn’t really living, Kurapika.”

At first read, he felt anger building up inside him. The look of betrayal quickly flashing across his face only to quickly fade upon another text coming through.

“Don’t take it the wrong way man. I’m all for finding your clans eyes and kicking that Phantom Troupe into next week but what’s the point if you’re not alive at the end of it? I don’t want another friend to die.”

The anger that came from the first text was replaced with guilt. He wouldn’t die, would he? The blonde’s hands once again clenched his fists as he remembered how Leorio lost a friend due to something preventable. Was this the same thing? He looked back at the text for what seemed like an eternity. What would he say to that? Kurapika let out a sigh as he responded.

“You don’t need to worry, Leorio. I will take better care of myself. Thank you for your constant care.”

He hesitated to respond. Was he giving his friend false hope? Did he deserve to call Leorio his friend after all the worry he put him through? These questions banged in his mind as he quickly pressed send and shut his phone off in one quick motion. Kurapika sat for a moment. He glanced at the laptop. It was 4:15 AM. Perhaps, for tonight, he could go to bed early. For Leorio’s sake, if not his own. The blonde stared longingly at the laptop and its collection of open tabs before gently closing it before ghosting into the bedroom. The bed was still made from the last time he slept in it. It had been about a week since he generally would find himself asleep in the office chair after exhaustion took control. He looked around, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror in the corner of his room. The person he saw looking back at him was tired. For the first time, he saw the unhealthy pale skin, under-eye bags, and unkempt hair. Perhaps tomorrow, he would take advantage of a day off.

As he changed from the same suit he had worn the past four days into actual sleeping clothes, he glanced at the clock. It was 4:30 AM and he could not escape the thought of wasted time as he pulled the covers up and slipped into his bed. Leorio’s text flashed into his mind. What would his parents say if they saw him like this? Was he doing the right thing? Would he even be able to sleep in this state? He gripped the comforter tightly as he tried to expel the thoughts from his mind. For just once, he shut his eyes and allowed his body to relax into the mattress, bringing the comforter around him tightly. It felt nice though the blonde doubted he deserved to feel any form of comfort. Those thoughts tried to force themselves further into his mind yet the embrace of sleep took the blonde over. No one could see but for the first time in months, the young man had a genuinely calm look plastered to his face. His quiet breathing was the only sound that could be heard in the room. This may only be a temporary stop on this Icarus-like man's journey but perhaps, if even for a moment, he could prevent his flight directly into the sun and just revel in the light.

#kurapika #kurapika fanfic #drabble #hxh #hxh fanfic #leorio #leopika if you want it to be #leorio is just a good human #somone get kurapika some water and a hug #hunter x hunter

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t-lostinworlds · 6 years ago

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Words Cut Like Knives (Shawn Mendes) [2]

A/N: Welp, a lot of you guys wanted a second part so here it is! I hope it doesn’t disappoint anyone asdfghjkl. Also, I just wanted to say I appreciate every single one of you. Truly, you guys are amazing and I love you and thank you for all the support. It means a lot.

P.S. I said this was going to be 5.5k words at max and well... lol sorry.

Summary: Shawn realizes how much he actually fucked things up and how he’s actually lost someone who’d give the whole world to him, who he actually wants and needs, but was everything too late or was it not it’s time just yet?

Warnings: None but Typos, oh and change in POV halfway through.

Word Count: 6.8k+

Masterlist in Bio

-:-:-:-:-

You know when people say, you never know what you have until you lose it? Well, Shawn already knew that it was true, but never had he ever expected it to slap him across the face every other time and for it to hurt this much.

All these years talking about how he wanted to experience real heartbreak, saying how that would make a killer album because by then he also gets to experience what it's like to love someone truly, but now? He wants absolutely nothing more than for it to go away. Shawn wants nothing else than for this pain to subside, other than having her back of course.

Her. (Y/N).

Every corner of the condo was littered with everything that is her. She is always in Shawn's mind 24/7, the moment he wakes up and just before he falls asleep, hell even in his dreams she's still there.

Shawn can even see her when he's in the kitchen, it's like her ghost is still lingering in the space, music blasted so loud whenever she's making breakfast, sock clad feet gliding across the floors as she moves her hips to the beat, a smile always making its way onto his lips the moment he reaches the room, him leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches her be so carefree, happy and just be an angel without even trying.

Even in his living room where she's all curled up on the couch, fast asleep with a book in her hand or when she's wrapped in a blanket as she stares at the TV, her favorite show playing that Shawn ends up loving since she pretty much drags him to watch it with her every time, but Shawn never regretted a single moment, just seeing her face all throughout the show, the way her face changes from all sorts of emotions, makes everything worth it.

But one of his favorites was when she's sitting cross-legged on the floor, hair in a messy bun, looking at her computer that was sat on the coffee table with furrowed brows, the tip of her pen caught between her teeth as she concentrates on whatever homework was due the next day.

Shawn always comes up behind her to place a soft kiss on her shoulder whenever she gets too stressed about it, teasing her about how her habit of procrastinating is the reason why she now has to rush to get everything done, though she'd shoot him a glare, she doesn't deny the fact that he's right.

He then ends up keeping her company until she finishes, her back pressed up against his chest as she sits between his legs, comfortable silence in the air as he lets her be, a couple of kisses thrown here and there until she closes her laptop with a sigh of pure relief and they were off to bed, Shawn carrying her as he insists he always will do when she's tired and overworked.

He can't even begin to think about his bedroom without his heart aching. The images of her bare skin flushed against his, her beautiful face looking down at him when he shows her how good he can make her feel, treat her as she deserves to be treated, worship her body like a temple, praise and cherish her like the goddess that she is.

Though the random cuddles they share will always be superior. Both of them wrapped in each other's arms when it's raining outside, the soft music of Louis Armstrong or Dean Martin bouncing off the cream-colored walls as Shawn admires her by his side wearing nothing but his hoodie, and boy that sight always made his heart melt.

And when That's Amore plays through the speakers, Shawn would be quick to pull her out of bed, her giggles accompanying the tune as they dance around the room, his hand holding one of hers as the other rest securely on her waist, bodies swaying to the music with wide smiles plastered on their faces. She always comments on how cheesy he was, Shawn causally responding that she loves his cheesiness, she always has. She'd giggle and do nothing else except pull him down for a sweet, gentle kiss, soft and contented sighs coming out of the two lovers.

But now every time he walks in that room, his heart just breaks into pieces knowing that he'll probably never feel that ever again. Her presence still so strong in that room even if it's been 2 weeks since he last saw her, the last picture that he ever saw was her packing up her stuff and leaving, an image that still occupies his mind more frequently than the last. The feeling of having her in his arms haunting him every night and day as he lays alone on that empty, cold mattress.

Shawn tried to replace the memories of her with someone else, but every single time he can't seem to do so as he brings a random girl in the guest room instead, never letting them near his room, not wanting to taint what was once him and her. But then just a few moments later, they leave all pissed because he ends up turning them down, can't bear the thought of sleeping with someone else because all he wants, all he craves is her.

He had everything he's ever needed, she was everything he's ever needed and he lost that, all because of a stupid mistake, a blatant idiotic move that will haunt him for the rest of his life.

Shawn has no excuse other than he was being dumb. He thought he was over Freya, but when he saw her back at the party he wasn't so sure anymore, he got confused on what he truly feels. And when she kissed him, he got blindsided, thought that Freya was supposed to be the girl he'd be with, the girl he needs. When she kissed him, Shawn knew he missed her still, he realized in himself that he hasn't fully moved on. Then everything got heated and Shawn wasn't thinking clearly anymore, thinking with the wrong head as some would say, hence why he said what he said.

Now he's lost (Y/N) just because he couldn't get a fucking grip and man up to own and face what he was truly feeling.

This was no one else's fault except his. He hurt her, lied to her, played with her feelings. He shouldn't have stringed her along, shouldn't have pursued her knowing that he himself was still unsure about where his heart stands. But he was an idiot and he did it anyway.

Shawn feels so sick of himself, he is so fucking disgusted of himself for what he's done to her, a poor excuse of a boy who hurt such an amazing and incredible woman who loved him unconditionally. And now, he lost her, lost the girl who he finally realizes was someone who he really does want, who he needs, but he realized that all too late.

He took everything for granted, he took her for granted and now he had to live with the consequences.

"You'd be a mess without me."

And she's right. She always has been right with everything. Never has (Y/N) ever told him something that ended up being wrong. She was right about Freya, right about him being blind and stupid, right about how he's become a monster.

Sure she never truly did speak the words but Shawn saw it in the way she looked at him, the way her eyes just stared at him like he was someone who she doesn't know anymore, someone who ended up being the guy he swore he'd never be, a monster of a boy, and God she was so right.

And oh a mess he is. Shawn even begins to think that calling him a mess would be an understatement. He was a wreck without her, he's so lost without her and he doesn't know if he can even begin to feel true happiness without her.

All because of him. All because of what he's done.

Shawn would bet against anyone in the world who'd tell him there was someone else who's a bigger fuck up than him, because right now? He is the biggest fuck up and the uttermost idiot that has ever walked this planet.

"Shawn, you need to leave your bed. Tour starts back up again in a few weeks, you need to rehearse and get back out there man." Andrew wasn't supposed to be here at this date since he had other errands to attend to, but when he's caught wind of how Shawn wasn't showing up at rehearsals or just wasn't showing up point blank, he needed to see how he's doing, because other than being his manager, he is still his friend by the end of it all.

Shawn only nodded solemnly, cheek pressed against his slightly damp pillow as he stared into nothingness, bloodshot eyes and disheveled hair all a product of him not getting out of bed unless it was to the bathroom or for some food.

Andrew frowned at the boy, thinking that this was worse than what Brian had let on. With a sigh, he walked closer to him, standing rightfully in front of his gaze in an attempt to get to his head.

Shawn let out a groan at the look Andrew was giving him, forcing him to close his eyes tight, so sick of all the pity everyone has been throwing at him, but then again, he does deserve it, though he thinks disappointed looks would be much more appropriate, be what he truly deserves.

"Shawn I care about you a lot. And this–" Andrew waved his hand all around the room, a whole mess with all the beer bottles, dirty clothes and even leftovers of food scattered everywhere. "–isn't healthy anymore. You need to get back on your feet."

Shawn shifted his body until he was laid flat on his back, glossy eyes staring straight up at the ceiling as he sighed, "I lost her Andrew. I lost my best friend, my girlfriend because of the stupidest shit I did. I hurt her and she didn't deserve all that. (Y/N) is such an angel, she didn't deserve to be treated like that." Shawn croaked, voice hoarse and raspy since he hasn't been his best self in a while, heart aching badly as guilt continues to swallow him whole.

Running a frustrated hand over his face, Shawn willed himself to sit up, eyes landing on the empty part of the closet making his heart break, a deep frown still etched on his lips as it has been for the past few weeks. "I was supposed to protect her from getting hurt. I promised her that I'll always protect her from boys who aren't going to treat her right, and fuck, guess what? I ended up being that exact idiot and asshole. How fucking ironic."

A sarcastic laugh left Shawn's lips as he shook his head in pure disappointment in himself, realizing over and over again how much of a fuck up he actually is. Andrew crossed his arms over his chest with a shrugged, tilting his head at the boy as he said. "Well, I can't disagree with you on that. You are an idiot and an asshole for what you did."

Shawn's head fell back with a groan, eyes shut tight as he didn't bother giving Andrew an answer because there was nothing left to say. But still, Shawn felt glad that most of the people around him know and tell him the truth when he does fuck things up, and that they aren't all 'yes men' who doesn't slap some sense into him when needed.

"But with that being said, what do you achieve by moping around in your room Shawn? Will she forgive you if you're stuck in bed all day? Do you think she'll give you another chance if you just drown yourself in self-pity?"

"No..." Shawn trailed off, eyes finally meeting Andrew's gaze as the older guy towered over him, only raising him a brow with a pointed look. "Then get the fuck up and get your shit together Mendes. Talk to her and apologize. Tell her what's truly in your heart and not just throw her more reasons because I know for a fact she's tired of hearing those."

"She blocked me on everything." Andrew rolled his eyes at that, "What she blocked you in real life too? Can't drive to her place because what? She blocked the road?"

Shawn hung his head low with an annoyed groan. "Andrew I swear–"

"My point is, don't stop trying. Contact her once a day but don't be too suffocating, if she doesn't respond back to anywhere, then try again the next day. Don't blow up her phone and give her the space she needs. And you'll never know, maybe she'll be the one to reach out first once she's ready." Andrew approached the boy, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder making Shawn nod with a small smile. Shawn slowly got out bed to give Andrew a proper grateful hug, him giving a remark about how Shawn smells so bad and looks so grim up close, earning a small laugh from the curly boy.

Then Andrew was off to leave Shawn alone with his thoughts again, but not before telling him that he has rehearsals in a couple of hours, which Andrew specifically threatened that Shawn show up or he's coming back in his room in a not-so-friendly way next time.

Once alone, Shawn dared himself not to go back to bed, so he opt on going straight to the bathroom instead, taking a much needed shower before heading off to rehearsals as he tries to get himself back on track.

Though what he didn't expect was for her to reach out first just as Andrew predicted.

***

"Okay guys, 10-minute break then we run through it again." Shawn sighed as he slipped the guitar off, placing it on the stand as he gave his band courteous nods as they walk out of the room, them returning the favor but with worry in their eyes. Though he did reassure them that he was fine, all of them didn't believe it, after all, he looked nowhere near fine.

Tour starts back again in a week's time, a couple more days until his leaving to be on the road again, and Shawn doesn't feel too excited about it, as uncharacteristic as that sounds.

His phone dinged in his pocket, Shawn fishing it out but not thinking much of who it was, maybe it was just a text from a friend or his sister perhaps, but when he gaze fell on the screen, he swore his heart stopped for a good amount of time.

iMessage from (Y/N): Hey Shawn. It's (Y/N). I just wanted to talk, hope you aren't too busy.

Shawn wasted no time in responding. Hell, he's been waiting to hear from her in weeks. Right now seems too good to be true just seeing her name on the screen, and God how he's missed seeing that name pop up.

iMessage to (Y/N): Hey angel, and no, I'm never too busy for you. Just tell me when and where. I'll be there.

Shawn's heart was hammering against his chest as he waited for a response, feet tapping anxiously on the floor, mind slowly thinking of how she's not going to text back again. Was the nickname too much? Did I go too far with what I said? Was I too desperate? Or was I too–

iMessage from (Y/N): Meet me at the coffee shop in about an hour or so. You already know which one.

Shawn sighed loudly as his phone dinged again, her name flashing on the screen making his lips slightly curve up into a small smile. The coffee shop, their coffee shop as she used to say. The place they used to go to every once in a while to just hang out, or whenever they want to set thing straight with the other. The coffee shop that holds so many memories, both good and bad. And right now they were going to add more to it, Shawn just doesn't know if it's going to be good or bad.

Shawn typed in a quick response to tell her that he'll see her in a bit, his smile slowly growing as he starts to feel all giddy out of the blue. He was finally seeing her, and he's seeing her today. Finally seeing her in the flesh after so long, to finally have the chance to tell her what he truly feels.

The sound of the door opening made Shawn tear his eyes off from his device, his band coming into view to continue with rehearsals, but Shawn interrupts before they could get to their respective instruments. "Uh guys, can we just cancel the rest of the day? Something came up and I really need to go."

"What's wrong Shawn? You okay?" Eddy asked with furrowed brows, the rest of the band looking at him with the same concerned faces. Shawn only nodded at them reassuringly, "Yeah, it's just, (Y/N) texted and she said she wanted to talk."

"Well, go on bro. Get your girl back." Mike encouraged, earning a grateful and honest smile from Shawn. "Thanks man." And without any second thought he was bolting towards the door, keys and wallet in hand, stopping midway and saying, "I'll make it up to you guys I promise." Then he was gone.

Yes, Shawn was aware that it was in an hour or so, but he wanted to get there first, doesn't want to take the chance on being late, scared that if he was even a minute over the time, he'd lose his chance to get her back forever.

***

Shawn waited nervously at the same table you always sat on all these years, right at the very back of the coffee shop by the window, away from all the prying eyes. A much needed peace and quiet away from the hectic world outside separated by the thin sheet of glass.

His fingers were tapping on the wooden surface in an anxious manner as his legs bounced aimlessly underneath. His eyes were glued to the door as he watched people come and go, his heart leaping every time he hears the bell ring, expecting it to be you. It was at the 10th bell–yes, he counted–that when he looked to see who it was, his world stopped and so did yours.

You thought you were ready to face him again, but that was where you thought wrong. But to be completely honest, you are never ready when it comes to him, well, you used to, but now you aren't so sure anymore since you don't really know what's on his head, not after everything that had happened.

"(Y/N)... hey." Shawn whispered as he stood from his seat the moment you walked closer to him, the sound of relief coating his voice, showing just how he was so happy to see you again, feeling so glad that you hadn't bailed on him.

Shawn was in completely awe of the beauty of you, taking his breath so easily just by being yourself in your black leggings and an oversized hoodie, a hoodie that gave him a sense of hope because it wasn't someone else's hoodie nor yours. How does he know this? Well, because it was his, the blue Tommy Hilfiger one that he absolutely adores seeing you in.

"Hi." You gave him small smile, the two of you not knowing what to do with yourselves as you stood face to face, both of you itching to touch, to be closer but no one dared to do so. With a clear of your throat you sat down right across from him, staring at your folded hands on the table, Shawn doing the same except he kept his eyes on you, afraid that when he looks away, you'll be gone in thin air.

The silence that rang in the air started to become deafening. You were fiddling with your fingers and still refusing to look at Shawn, and it pained him to see that, pained him to see that now, you can't bear to look at him in the eyes anymore, but he can't say he doesn't deserve it. "(Y/N) I–"

"No. I just wanted to ask a few things." You stopped him before he could get another word out, only wanting to hear the answers to your questions and nothing more.

Shawn nodded slowly, frown deep on his face a she waited for you to continue. You close your eyes as you took a deep breath, contemplating on your words before finally having the courage to meet his gaze and when you did, Shawn's felt his heart break even more as the sadness and pain that swirled around them was too much, and all of it was his doing.

"Was I only just a rebound? And please don't lie to me to make me feel better." You whispered, eyes shutting as your bottom lip trembled. Yes it's been weeks but it still hurts so fresh, the pain still so sharp in your heart that talking about it just does nothing but make you cry over and over.

"I'm not going to lie to you anymore. I–I don't want to risk losing you again." Shawn stared deeply into your eyes, palms pressed together as he rest his hands on the table, just a few inches away from yours.

With a deep, shaky breath, Shawn continued. "And it started that way, I thought that by being with you can help me get over her, help me forget about her and you did help me with that, but as time flew by, I realized that you were far better than she was, a more amazing woman than she ever will be. I mean, you already were and I was just so blind to see that, too blind to see what's in front of me. You always were so right about that, in more ways than one." Shawn confessed, titling his head to look at you with a small smile, though it was still so charming in your eyes so you looked down, not able to stare at them too long in fear that you'll drown in them and you'll be thinking with you heart and not your head again.

"And I was falling for you slowly but surely and I realized that fuck, this woman really will have me wrapped around her pretty fingers in a short time won't she? And you did exactly that (Y/N), I got so wrapped around you so quick that I know it would be so hard to turn back around, but truth is. I don't want to." Shawn finished, your eyes snapping back to his as you pressed your lips in a tight line, unsure if you should trust his words, but you knew that he was telling the truth, Shawn was never a good liar and you can see it in the way he looks at you.

"Was everything real? Everything you said and did while–when we were together, was it real?" You asked slowly, tears starting to gloss up as you held your composure, keeping your eyes on him to truly see if he will mean every word.

Shawn sighed, knowing exactly what you mean, that if he wasn't thinking of her while he was with you, and the truth is, he wasn't. "Yes (Y/N), all of that was real. Everything that happened between us was real. The moments when we danced in the bedroom? That was real, and gosh I loved hearing that giggle every I pull you out of bed just to dance. I loved hearing you belting out songs in the shower whenever you can. And the nights when we just lay in bed and talk about anything and everything, I always admire you outlook on life, makes me feel so lucky to have you. And when I'm holding you in my arms, when I'm kissing you, when I make love to you, I was only thinking of you and no one else. I promise you that (Y/N). None of it was a lie, all of it was very real to me."

"Then why?" You croaked, still not understanding why he did what he did if he says that what he felt for you was real.

"I have no better reason than I was stupid. I got confused with my feelings. I thought I was over her because I already was so happy with you, I was so fucking happy to be with you, but then I saw her at the party and I got so confused, and everything just happened so fast and my mind just turned to mush. Fuck I was such an asshole, a fucking idiot for not getting my shit together." Shawn leaned forward and decided to risk it as he took your hands in his, his large ones wrapping slowly around yours and you let him, the feeling comforting you, the ache in your heart lessening at the feeling of his warmth.

"I'm so sorry (Y/N). I regret everything I said that night, if I could turn back time and slap some sense into myself I would. You didn't deserve all of that, didn't deserve to get hurt at all. And trust me, I really want to beat the shit out of myself every time I look in the mirror. For hurting you, for being that boy I swore to protect you from. I was a fucking idiot and I hurt you. But right now? I finally realized that you were everything to me and more. I miss you so bad and it hurts to see you side of the bed empty. I miss you (Y/N), I really do." The desperation in his voice was clear as day, a longing look on his face as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes tearing up, mirroring yours.

You let out a defeated sigh as you casted your eyes down at your intertwined hands, his thumb caressing the back of your hand as he always does whenever he holds it. "I miss you too Shawn." You admitted, because why would you lie when that's all you've been feeling for the past few weeks?

"I'm not expecting you to forgive me right away. I understand completely if you don't trust me anymore, but please (Y/N), give me one more chance. All I need is one chance and I'll show you how much you mean to me, treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Just one chance." Shawn begged, he didn't care if he sounded pathetic, he cared about nothing else right now other than having you back in his life.

But when you gave him a nod and a small 'okay', Shawn knew that there was more to this than what meets the eye, that you were indeed giving him another chance but it wasn't going to be what he expects it to be.

"That's not all isn't it?" You shook your head no with a sharp intake of breath, your eyes avoiding his and Shawn was fast to catch what was really the main purpose of this meet up, and he felt his heart slowly sink again right after that slight glimmer of hope.

"You came here to say goodbye didn't you?" Shawn stated slowly, his grip on your hand loosening as he leaned back on his seat, lost eyes staring right back at you as it started to tear up, hoping that you'll say no, that you'll tell him that it wasn't what you were here to do, but a nod was all it took for Shawn to confirm that you were indeed going away, and not just the vacation kind no, you were going far away in a sense of starting anew.

"I'm going to Greece, maybe live there for a bit." You breathed out, your eyes glued on the table as Shawn retracted his hand from yours, a frown grazing your lips at the loss of contact but you didn't say anything about.

Shawn swallowed the lump in his throat with a nod, eyes staring out at the streets of Toronto right outside the coffee shop, and you can just see his brain turning, his cheeks turning flush as the tears started to build into his eyes. "For how long?"

"I don't know."

"When?"

"Tomorrow." Shawn's eyes snapped back at yours at that, his heart beating ten times its normal speed as he stared at you with so many emotions. "Why?"

You bit the insides of your cheek as you thought of how you're going to word it, to make him understand, but then again, this is Shawn, if there was anyone who'd understand it more, it was him. "I've realized that my whole world revolves around you. I've become so dependent on you, not knowing what to do without you and always thinking about what you might need and want more than what I truly want."

Shawn ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his body turning anxious as he tries to grasp your words. "But I'm the same with you (Y/N), I'm so lost without you." He couldn't stop the soft sob that escaped his lips, the sound clenching at your heart, making you reach out to him as you cupped his face with both hands, his teary eyes staring right into yours as his bottom lip quivered.

He leaned into your touch like a puppy, your soft touch feeling so soft against his skin making him let out a soft sigh, a small smile tugging at your lips at the gesture as you caress his cheeks with your thumb. "You aren't lost without me bub, you've found who you are and what you're passionate about long before I came into the picture. I just made things easier for you by being there by your side whenever you need me. And now, things will get a bit harder, but it's nothing you can’t handle."

Shawn's eyes fell to the floor, a mixture of pain, worry and guilt filling him up at that thought that you were leaving him again, but this time, he doesn't know if he'll ever see you again, get the chance to actually be with you again. Leaning closer towards him and taking one of his hands in yours as you kept one on his face, you whispered. "Hey, look at me?" And Shawn did so, the curly boy sniffling with his bottom lip drawn between his teeth, trying his best to keep himself together and not to start bawling his eyes out.

"I love you and I think I always will, but I need to find myself. Be my best self, to love myself first before anyone else. And I've been putting you first before me in such a long time and it's just isn't healthy anymore Shawn, and I think you know that. I just need to find who I truly am, what my goal in life is and look for what I'm truly passionate about." Your own eyes was beginning to water, just seeing him in so much despair was more than enough for your heart to ache, but you have to do this, for yourself.

Shawn shook his head at your words, a shaky breath coming out of him as he so badly; desperately doesn’t want you to leave. "And I love you (Y/N) please–"

"Shawn, no, don't say that because I said it. I want you to say it when you are truly sure. I don't want you to love me because I love you. I want you to love me because you love me."

Shawn wanted to tell you that he does in fact love you, he wants to scream it, to tell the world, but what you said struck him. Was he really saying it because he means it or is it because you're saying it to him? That was when he knew he needed to figure out some things for himself too, and maybe you moving away was the best for the both of you.

So with a heavy heart Shawn nodded slowly, his hand coming up to cover yours that was resting on his cheek, a small smile grazing his lips as he said, "So this is goodbye then?" You shook your head no, "More like, see you later rockstar." Shawn lets out a small chuckle at that, knowing fully well that no other girl will ever compare to you, not matter what part of the world.

With a smile of your own you tugged at his hand as you stood to your full height, Shawn mirroring your actions and wasted no time in pulling you in for a warm embrace, the two of you sighing at the familiar feeling to hold each other, to be this close, to feel each other's warmth.

"I'm going to miss you so much." Shawn murmured against your hair, his tears falling freely down his cheeks as he held you for a little longer. "Me too Shawn, but this isn't the end." With that you pulled away, pushing his hair back with your fingers before cupping his cheek again, pulling him down as you placed a soft, lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth. Shawn's breath hitched at the contact, his brain not registering it quick enough until you flashed him one last smile and slowly took steps back. Both your hands hang in the air as none of you refused to let go yet, Shawn giving it one last squeeze until the warmth of your touch was replaced by the cold air of the coffee shop, your figure going straight to the door but not before looking back one last time and disappearing into view.

Shawn stood there, watching his best friend, the love of his life walking away from him for the second time around, only this time, it didn't sit as heavy as the first one, because Shawn knows that this was just the chapter closing and that there was more to come. Maybe right now, it wasn't their time yet, and when that time does come, they will get their chance.

***

2 years later...

The sound of the bustling streets of a little town in Santorini was already so familiar to you, being that you've lived here for a couple of years, already. You've grown to love it more and more each time, the people, the culture, and not to mention the beautiful view of the caldera and the pleasure of seeing a breathtaking sunset all the time.

You walk mindlessly with your camera hanging around your neck, your white sundress flowing against the wind as you greeted the vendors and some familiar faces with bright smiles, taking endless snaps after snaps of the people and the view, adding more things to post on your blog or to display at the little coffee shop you work in.

You'd think that after two whole years of being here you'd get used to how everything looks, but never did you ever as every time you look out at the ocean in front you, it leaves you in awe just as much as the first time you laid eyes on it. The white structures of houses littered all on the edge, giving it its own beauty that the tall buildings of Toronto could never compare. Though you do miss home, you've never been so happy and content with yourself as right now, standing in one of the most beautiful islands here in Greece, one that would hold a special place in your heart no matter what.

Once the camera was up against your face, you tend to lose any sense of the space around you, easily lost between the lens as you try to get the best shot as possible. And sometimes when doing so, you don't realize that you're moving back incautiously until you bump into something, or someone.

"Oof Signómi!" You squeaked out of instinct, the impact too fast and hard making you stumble on your feet, your eyes shutting tight as you hugged your camera to your chest, feeling a hand grabbed at your waist to prevent you from toppling over, but when the man spoke, you heart stopped.

"(Y/N)?"

And sure enough when you opened your eyes, the face you saw was already a familiar one, too familiar for that matter. "Shawn?" The curly boy grinned and despite the sunglasses that adorned his face, you can just imagine his eyes crinkling in the process. "Hi love."

Your mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water, the words failing to form as you stared up at the boy–well a man now–that still sits a place in your heart, nowhere near expecting to see him. "Out of all the places Andrew wanted to visit, I found you in midst of it." Shawn muttered, unable to wipe the stupid grin on his face, in complete disbelief at the unlikely encounter but he was nowhere near complaining.

"Really?" "Yeah, Jake's right over there." Shawn jerked his head behind him, and sure enough, the big man was standing just a few feet away, giving you a wave as he munch on the bread in his hand. You giggled as you look back up at Shawn who hasn’t stopped looking at you from the moment you bumped into each other.

You tilted your head to the side as you quirked an eyebrow at him, your cheeks starting to hurt due to smiling endlessly. "Coincidence?"

Shawn chuckled with a tilt of his head, hand leaving your waist for a quick moment to remove the sunglasses and hooking it on his white shirt, his hair dancing with the wind, his beautiful hazel eyes now coming to view as he stared at you adoringly. "I think not."

"I'm so happy so see you again, you have no idea." The tall boy spoke again, his voice gentle as the breeze but the need in them so powerful, hand giving your waist a soft squeeze as he leaned down to press his forehead against yours, making you hum at the familiar closeness, your eyes staring up at him and god you miss looking into these specific hazel orbs. "Me too Shawn, it's been what? Two, almost three years?"

"Too long." Shawn groaned playfully, emitting another giggle from you and he swore he felt his heart grow bigger at the sound, it being so long since the last time he's heard it.

"You look like a man now." You teased, eyes scanning him head to toe, Shawn's head shaking in pure laughter as he pulled you closer to him, nose almost brushing as he cupped your cheek with one hand. "And you look like an absolute goddess." Shawn gushed, thumb caressing your skin, unable to believe his eyes to actually see you standing here in the flesh, and oh how he wanted to kiss those pretty lips so bad.

"Catch up over coffee, tea, or me?" You whispered with a teasing smirk, not wanting to get too friendly with him just yet, and of course, Shawn was quick to catch this, so with a chuckle he pulled away, but not fully as he intertwined his fingers with yours. "Lead the way mi lady."

As you walked side by side, Shawn dipped his head out of nowhere, hot breath fanning on your skin as he spoke. "Oh, and I'll always pick you out of anything, to drink up, eat up, everything." He whispered lowly against your ear, you heart leaping out of your chest as you looked up at him with flushed cheeks, that cocky grin of his playing on his lips as he shot you a wink, feeling so proud that he still got it even after all this years.

You only bumped your shoulder with his arm–due to the height difference–making him let out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing through the warm air as the two of you rekindle the old flame that never did die out, feeling that never did leave nor lessen no matter how far or how long you've been away with one another.

Because a love like that will never fade, and right now was the perfect time for the two of you, the perfect time to continue your love story and to ensure that it has a happy ending this time.

-:-:-:-:-

Like & Reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think! x

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dishonoredrpg · 5 years ago

Photo

Congratulations, NAY! You’ve been accepted for the role of THE LOVERS with the faceclaim of ASHLEY MOORE. Admin Cas: I think we can all agree that The Lovers is a difficult concept to pin down. It’s a task in itself to balance the devotion they have for The World, her world, while not sacrificing who they are at their core. But, Nay, you were certainly up to the task. There’s something so lovely about Prudence, so beautiful and admirable, but something hungry. So much of her life revolves around The World, but that does not mean that Prudence doesn’t have a story of her own to live out. I particularly enjoyed the way you likened her story unfolding to a caterpillar grows into its chrysalis; to become a butterfly or moth, either is possible. I can’t wait to see what you do with her!

Please review the CHECKLIST and send your blog in within 24 hours.

Out-of-Character.

NAME: nay

PRONOUNS: she / her

AGE: twenty-two

TIMEZONE, ACTIVITY LEVEL: gmt + 5 ; and i’d say my activity ( especially with quarantine, still ) is at a 7/10. lately, i have been trying to write every day, and that means at least a reply every day �� even if posted through queue after being written on a better writing day.

ANYTHING ELSE?: i wrote this way too quickly, because i suck at being patient and didn’t want to wait a week to turn in an app, so forgive me for the sinful typos committed in my haste! this definitely isn’t as polished as i wish it were. also? there are possibly too many insect-facts in this and if that shit squicks you, i am so sorry.

In-Character.

SKELETON: the lovers

K E Y W O R D S

UPRIGHT: love, harmony, relationships, values alignment, choices

REVERSED: self-love, disharmony, imbalance, misalignment of values

| source: x

NAME: prudence “prue” luna lockhart

→ ETYMOLOGY ;

P R U D E N C E / “intelligence; discretion, foresight; wisdom to see what is suitable or profitable;” also one of the four cardinal virtues, "wisdom to see what is virtuous;" from Old French prudence (13th Century) and directly from Latin prudentia “a foreseeing, foresight, sagacity, practical judgment,” contraction of providentia “foresight” (see providence). Secondary sense of “wisdom” (late 14th Century) is preserved in jurisprudence.

L U N A / “the moon,” especially personified in the Roman goddess answered to Greek Selene; also, an alchemical name for “silver”; from Latin luna “moon, goddess of the moon,” from PIE *leuksna- (source, also: of Old Church Slavonic luna “moon,” Old Prussian lauxnos “stars,” Middle Irish luan “light, moon”), suffixed form of root *leuk- “light, brightness.” The luna moth (1841, American English) so-called for the crescent-shaped eye-spots on its wings.

L O C K H A R T / Scottish: of uncertain origin, probably from a Germanic personal name composed of the elements loc 'lock', 'bolt' + hard 'hardy', 'brave', 'strong'. English: occupational name for a herdsman in charge of a sheep or cattlefold, from Old English loc 'enclosure', 'fold' + hierde 'herd(er)'.

| sources: x & x

FACECLAIM: zendaya coleman ( or ashley moore or natali litvinova — in order of preference! )

AGE: three-&-twenty for zendaya / four-&-twenty for ashley or natali

→ BIRTHDATE: fantasy-equivalent of july 8th; the most cancer baby there ever was!

DETAILS: it took me forever to find a skeleton that made me feel the enduring love i’ve been searching for beyond the ability to see a story, and as it always, unfailingly, tends to happen for the rare occasion where i opt for a softer character, it caught me completely off-guard. initially, surveying the tags, i was leaning towards the skeletons of the wheel of fortune, the hierophant, the devil, the hermit – all of whom, in my opinion, are characters who have been shaped by a darkness, be it inherent or inflicted, that’s rendered them with shadows or edges. with the lovers, that’s not the case. they are tender: like a paramour’s kiss, or a bruise, or an overripe peach you can sink your fingers into. and maybe it’s my unflinching desire to subvert the stereotypical presumption of what it is to be soft, the fragility noted in their skeleton does not translate to weakness or meekness to me; i enjoy that they are both tender, and possess the ability to be chaotic, and manipulative, and impulsive and desperate and vindictive and defensive. what i love most about this particular skeleton is the sheer humanness of them.

that, and their love for THE WORLD. for a moment there, that was definitely what drew me to them; this idea of love as religion had my mind reeling like a siken poem, rhapsodising about a love so powerful, it can alter a person. this is partially because i am the most hopeful and shameless of romantics, and partially because love, its nuances, and its powers and vulnerabilities genuinely, deeply interest me. however, working my way deeper into this application-form, that changed.

it is the love that the lovers — or prue, to me, now — holds for THE WORLD is one that attracted me. it is her own potential for growth that’s kept me in her clutches, besotted, wishing to tell her story. hers is a tale, i believe, of metamorphosis: a question i posed in a later section, as well as what lurks in my mind, is whether that metamorphosis is one that leads to a moth or a butterfly. did you know it is moths who come from cocoons, but butterflies who come from a chrysalis? moths, who are drawn to light. butterflies, who drink nectar, also help spread the seeds to grow more of the flowers. both which come from a caterpillar, whose first meal is typically the egg they come from. what i enjoy is the ambivalence that presents itself — or, as i like to call it: potential. there are several directions that prue’s story could go in, several choices that could define her, and it’s all up in the air until it isn’t anymore.

i wish i could tell you that my EUREKA! moment wasn’t insect-research, but i can’t, because that would be a lie. i’m not even sorry.

BACKGROUND:

☉ CONTENT WARNING(s): infant death, stillbirth, body horror imagery, insects

come, dear reader, won’t you settle in? let me spin you a tale—a tangled web of one, indeed—about a girl who smells sweet as white roses and is as satiny to touch as her gossamer-thin garments. this girl is just a girl; she has never been the girl. even so, this story is her story, and though she is not equipped to be the heroine of a story, or so she believes, she is the heart of this one. like a heart, she is swollen with the fullness of blood: thus, let me etch this tale into parchment with the blood of love, in crimson-ink of metallic-reek.

it comes in three parts: a beginning, a middle, an ending; it is for you, dear reader, to decide which is which.

let us anoint this tale the title of METAMORPHOSIS –

✧✧✧

i. THE EGG ;

before there is the girl, there is a man and a woman who live in faerûn by the sahrnian sea, bound together by a contract that is decidedly not the forest-fire love faerie-tales herald. yet that is not to say that love never comes, just because love comes after. when it does, it is a calm love, a steady one; a love that has never cost one to lose one’s mind, and has been grown, meticulously, over the passage of time and the trials and tribulations have littered the path of a match made by those who are older and have witnessed so much more life than them. it is not for years that the woman feels nature stirring within her body’s vessel, and when it does, it is with the undying bestowing upon her a gift that makes up lost time.

when the girl comes, she comes from a belly more full than most. it makes sense that it is so, for there were meant to be two of them: a boy, and a girl. one might suppose that, in the end, there still were, yet only one in the way it mattered.

( you decide, dear reader: which is which? )

she is born — and it is days, and days, before her time. no matter, a name still awaits her. prudence, they call her. pierce, he would have been.

from the beginning, she emerges from the ruddy cave of her mother’s womb incomplete. a greyish pallor remains where life ought to be warming her skin; it is as if he leeched enough life from her for him to choke on, and she siphoned her brother’s death through the connection only womb-mates share – and this is what she will hear in later years, when she asks about him.

she will wish she hadn’t.

✧✧✧

ii. THE CATERPILLAR ;

( when you feel unforgiving, dear reader, remember: it is a caterpillar’s job to eat; without an abundance of consumption, it cannot survive. it is this abundance of consumption that allows for the production of silk. it is this same abundance of consumption that is its undoing. )

years do not care if one is ready to bear them; they come, when they must, as they must. and so comes to pass the childhood that tries to swallow prudence lockhart whole, over and over and over –

as an infant, blood is filtered out of her body and fresh blood poured into her veins. it helps, some. it does not help enough, yet there is nothing more to be done; her parents must take her home, and pray to the undying god for the rest. they pray, and pray, and pray, as two people of noble blood and lucrative business-dealings rarely stoop to, for lack of need to need it.

as a child, prue is still a frail slip of a thing, with bones jutting out against taut bronze flesh in protest. fill yourself up, her mother pleads. you must survive, beloved. she offers her savory meals and sweet decadence twice, and anything she takes a suggestion of a liking to just as many times more — and it works; it takes time, but work it does, and prue’s cheeks round some and at times flush rosily, some weakness giving way to the minute miracles that are her tardy signs of life. it is not much, but it is enough, isn’t it? it is to the mother who has warred for her existence. who still combats for prue’s survival.

when does the girl begin to feel that it might be her that her mother is fighting, when every frustration about her lessness, her inherent lessness, begins to steal the breath from prue’s lungs – for is it not her who is all poetry & rot, wisp-thin & about as flimsy? her heart fills with hot, vital blood then: it beats loud and clear as a belltower’s toll, cutting through all else with the potency of its truth. this is as much as i am, she beseeches in turn, as her mother had once done, except not, for graceless tears roll down her cheeks in impassioned rivulets and the voice that thickens with feeling.

how will you survive the world, beloved? her mother implores.

i might not, prue knows. i might not, she accepts.

it is the caterpillar’s destiny to unbecome –

✧✧✧

iii. THE CHRYSALIS ;

– unbecoming takes time.

it takes long enough that both mother and daughter grow used to it, initially, and then around it, ultimately.

there is, after-all, the distraction of warfare engrained in the backbone of their precious faerûn. there is the journey to tyrholm, the settling into the dregs of hightown – not quite lowtown-bound, and not-quite-not. it fazes her parents to not be profound upper-echelons of society; her father, a man used to running the business inherited by the men in the lockhart family, and her mother, who had spent all of her time worrying for prudence and never had to about wealth. but prue, for her part, is accustomed to the notion of not-quite-right / not-quite-enough; the feeling might not be home, per se, and yet she recognises the walls of the house all the same – could walk its rooms in the dark, if she had to.

it is circumstance that calls the lockharts to castle tyrholm.

it tears at her parents: her father believes in not squandering opportunity, and her mother would rather squander anything but prudence. even THE EMPRESS sees it, does she not, when she cants prudence’s head and observes her fragility? the king’s reputation precedes itself; would a heart as true and innocent as hers survive a court like his? within minutes, it is too late to ponder it any longer. within minutes, it is no longer a choice, but a deal already struck. just like a match: it cannot be unstruck. one can endeavour to douse a fire, but it is not the same as un-starting it.

for a time, the castle is one more place prue does not feel she belongs; it is alright, she tells herself. you are alright, she says – because her mother is no longer by her side telling her anymore, is she? silken thread ensnares the girl when THE WORLD knocks on her door one evening; it is lilly-white, the radiance of their smile. prue does not understand why, then; she is nothing exceptional, she flounders for the right thing to do, and even then, she gets it wrong so much more often than she ever gets it right. perhaps, she will never understand why – why they are so kind, why they make her feel seen, why…

and still, this once, there is no question of whether it is enough. they are more than enough.

for the first time in her life, prue discovers what it is to be warm.

✧✧✧

tell me, dear reader – is this a butterfly’s or moth’s metamorphosis?

PLOT IDEAS:

❂ “love, for you, / is larger than the usual romantic love. it’s like religion. it’s terrifying.” – richard siken

see, i told you: siken’s poetry reeling through my mind. religion is a really interesting ideology to link the notion of love to, because there are so many boundaries one crosses in the name of faith. at times, we call it the lesser evil. other times, we say it’s letting the end justify the means. we’re all trying to be holy.

this is where i want to start discussing potential plots for prue — but i want to, first, preface it by saying that though THE WORLD is very much at the centre of her story, it is because prue’s unparalleled love for them is central to her life-story; i treat it like an experiment, where prue is the dependent variable and her love for THE WORLD is the independent variable that incites action & reaction, placed in different situations. it is, that said, the most potent of variables, and can hardly be called controlled, despite how desperately prue herself attempts to keep it to the corner-alcove they hide the truth of their love in. this love is not a selfish love; it is strong, and all-consuming, and maddening – more than a soldier’s swearing fealty to a kingdom, it is the most devout of prophets bowing their head at the altar of the divine deity they put their faith in. that’s pretty intense stuff, right? i want to see what it elicits.

this can be a double-edged sword, and in fact, i’d be rooting for it to be. on one hand, i want to explore how this love has made prue strong. i want to see how it has made her braver, and more resilient. i want to explore that she took THE EMPRESS deeming her fragile-seeming, and how she’s donned it as armour, because it is that same delicacy that has made THE WORLD love them. i want to explore it through interactions with the royal family foremost — THE WORLD, of course, but THE EMPRESS, THE EMPEROR, THE CHARIOT, and if it works out, maybe even septimus himself. it’s rare for prue to not let things slip, and roll off her back, but that is when it comes to her. her love for THE WORLD makes her want to protect them, fiercely; it lights a fire in her soul that has never been lit before. and fire? yes, it warms – but oh, it burns, too, doesn’t it? it has the power to ruin. and i don’t want to limit that exploration to just the royal family; i want to explore it with the animosity-potential between her and TEMPERANCE as well, but that’s one plot i’ll talk more about further down.

there are little ideas floating around in my head that i would love to explore with the respective players, but i could imagine a friendship between prue ( probably due to her sweet-tooth luring her, too often, to the kitchens ) with THE HANGED MAN – and to explore a bond, that could further be complicated, potentially, by prue not being able to talk about what she and THE WORLD share. or, more chaotically: for her to share it, and for THE HANGED MAN to let it slip to THE DEVIL? how far would prue go to protect this? and would she, if it presented the opportunity for the future where she and her love get to be together is pushed closer by it? how selfless is her love? how powerful would fear be against it?

i’m honestly just a firm believer that, when our backs are against the wall, that’s when we find out who we really are. and that’s the main storyline i want to explore with prue, more than anything else, because i think that she has never been pushed to that edge and, because of it, she’s never copped up to her own identity. she met and fell in love with THE WORLD at such a young age, so quickly and wholly, that it has shaped so much of what her ideal self is. i want to see how her ideal self would differ from the reality of her. and i want to see her confront it.

❂ “you are going to break your promise. i understand. and i hold my hands over the ears of my heart, so that i will not hate you.” – catherynne m. valente

very recently, someone put forth an idea to me: love is a promise. that’s what i want to talk about here. there’s a sense i got — both from the lovers’ skeleton, and THE WORLD’s — that both of them know that there is a time-limit on their relationship. or, at the very least, whatever room there is for prue in their future, it isn’t a room where they share the bed. but i also get a sense that they know it, and neither of them talk about it. i think a part of prue feels like the amount of good that THE WORLD has brought her will last her a lifetime, and i think that isn’t true, so much as she’s hoping it is? i want to see the two of them talk about it. i want to see prue wanting them to fight her love. i want prue to admit she wants to be chosen over duty, or a marriage with someone who isn’t her, or fear, and i want to see what something like that would do to their relationship. or hell, i want someone who has power over THE WORLD, like THE EMPEROR, or THE EMPRESS, or THE CHARIOT or THE HIGH PRIESTESS to find out about the true nature of their relationship and force that choice once they even start talking about, so the situation can force their hands even if they don’t force one another’s.

there’s so much between the two of them i want to dissect and play with, it apparently needed to separate quotations. oops?

❂ “all things truly wicked start from innocence.” – ernest hemingway

we all have the occasional ( or perhaps more, no judgement! ) propensity for wickedness. i feel really passionately about softer people not being safe from cravings for chaotic behaviour, even if they might, in prue’s case, justify it through the innocence of intention. a lot of her initial effusion is of a heady amalgamation of sweetness and delicacy; i want to see her display a dash of something that takes leave from that, and surprises even herself. now, though not at all set-in-stone and totally up to be discussed with the respective player, i could easily see it rearing its head in the dynamic between herself and TEMPERANCE. how many times will she be shooed away from a room with a beautiful woman and the love of prue’s life? it terrifies prue, the idea that THE WORLD will slip out of her fingers like the sands of time, so much sooner than she is ready for. i’m curious: would there be a moment where she would not leave? where she would make the nature of their relationship known? would she ever snap back, or continue to smile tenderly, bow her head, and listen?

i’m also dying to explore the potential plot brewing between the lovers and DEATH. part of this is a total shot in the dark, so bear with me, but – imagine this: there is a darkness in them that tugs at the darkness in her; they are hungry, and she is a starving-thing, and what a pairing they could make. imagine prue venturing into lowtown with them, and for the alternative reality DEATH’s hunger dangles that could open a door to an actual future with THE WORLD? i want there to be temptation — towards darkness and chaos, yes, because i am a sucker for moral ambiguity, but also for the loyalist that prue is to be lured by the revolt.

❂ “you cut up a thing that’s alive and beautiful to find out how it’s alive and why it’s beautiful, and before you know it, it’s neither of those things, and you’re standing there with blood on your face and tears in your sight and only the terrible ache of guilt to show for it.” – clive barker

it is difficult for even me, as i delve into prue’s psyche, to be a wordsmith adept enough to encapsulate the sheer magnitude of her love for her lover. let me tell you this, though: it is love that is devout enough that prue would sacrifice herself before it. she would shirk what she believes she knows of herself to fight for THE WORLD. but there is little in the universe free of the shackles of consequence. it feels inevitable to me that, at some point, sooner or later, prue will commit an action or reaction in the name of love — and then, she will have to live with it. it’s even better to me for her to go beyond her limits for this love that is everything to her, and then find herself turning to them to sacrifice for her as freely as she does them… and for them to, perhaps, not be able to. or perhaps, for it to turn prue into a person she herself can no longer recognise. there was a part of me that wanted to already cook something up, and to toss it into the writing sample portion, but i decided otherwise. if i get to write this character, i want to start in a place that is different, and develop my way towards a darker pasture, so to speak.

a darker pasture, however, is where i want her to at least visit. in a setting such as this one, i don’t think it can be helped, truthfully.

❂ “each friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.” – anaïs nin

while i was trying to knit this application together into one whole piece, a recurring concern for me has been that i want this character to have its own story, and the lines of that can get awfully blurry when the character is one the feels as intensely as prue lockhart does. she is such a hypersensitive creature; more than anything, it is her interactions that penetrate her, and alter her, and cause the discord between the sides that are wont to tug at her, who stands in the most Lawful Neutral of spots. i’ve decided to lean into it, though, because i genuinely believe that it poses an intriguing dichotomy between her inherent nature and the nurture that moulds it beyond the obvious, magnitudinal parental hand in it. that said, there are actual several different potential connections i want to toy with here. ( one of which is THE HANGED MAN, but i already mentioned that above, and didn’t want to be repetitive! )

THE MAGICIAN / listen, prue is so used to being the Softest. but this little baby is even softer than her, and every time they flinch, she just wants to help. she tries, at every turn, to be kind and i really want to see her become a friend / confidant for them? maybe learn about their magic. to maybe give them a secret of her own back ;) gal pals, gimme. i need something wholesome; it can’t all be agony & ecstasy, god damn it.

WHEEL OF FORTUNE / it is pure coincidence that throws the two of them together as often as it does. but prue is the sort to believe the best in people, and is never too arrogant to admit where she’s been wrong. this bond is where her feelings towards magic first begins to see development, and i am so, so, so interested in toying with it. even more so when you throw in their bond with THE EMPEROR — does faze prue a little — and his relationship with THE WORLD in there. such potential for growth and drama.

DEVIL / for years, every time prue has seen them, she has walked in the other direction. otherworldliness is unnatural enough as it is, but the proof of what they can do scars them with evidence of it – and so, out of genuine fear, she’s evaded them. and yet, coincidental interactions with the WHEEL OF FORTUNE has made prue think twice. a look at the haunting in their eyes has made her think thrice. i want to play with that dynamic!!!

THE MOON / hers is the only magic that does not scare prue, i think. it is the only one she is not too intimidated to ask questions about, because she truly is extremely curious when she takes an interest in something, and a lifetime of listening in the background has given prue a taste for stories. i feel like she could bring out something adventurous and wild within prue? a part which prue never got to explore, because she grew up with a very, very cautious mother who kept a very close eye on her and treated her like glass because prue really does look fragile. i want a bond to make her feel stronger!

THE STAR / if there is one thing that prue has grown up to be, it is a true romantic. it makes him something of a kindred spirit; something in her could reach out to something in him, creating a kindred bond that makes her feel seen in a way that only THE WORLD has ever given her.

THE TOWER / because she was raised right by it, the sea is where prue feels most at home, and she always has. i could see there being something about THE TOWER’s stories making her feel warm inside, and thus, her braving a friendship with them. i think she could use the wisdom of someone older? and there’s just something about them that made prue shyly scuff her toe at the ground, like – an oliver twist moment of, “can i have more, please?”

THE FOOL / stories talk about princes and princesses. the dragon’s fire, the nobel steed. prue looks at him, and she wonders: where are the stories about them? the princess’ lover, and the king’s soldier – those who fight for the crown, without wearing it. it could make for such an unlikely bond, but such an intriguing one, i think? i got the idea, and i just could not shake it. humour me!

and 0f course, there is potential with literally every other character, too, but i honestly ran out of time before i could come up with something for them too. i’m down to flesh it out~

❂ “we grow. it hurts at first.” – sylvia plath

at the start of her story, prue starts off as a fragile underdog. she turns blossoms into a lover, and it turns her fiercer – which is not the same thing as being fierce, but it’s a start. what i want for her — what any writer wants for their muses, i reckon — is growth. i want prue, who has grown up sheltered and protected, to experience pain and hardship. i want her experiences to call into question what she thinks she knows, flip it on its head, and make her think. i want her to think, and to change her mind, and to change it again. i want her to confront her fears, and her uncomfortable truths, and to experience all the tempestuous emotions she’s spent her entire life keeping at bay, having convinced herself they could shatter her. i want her to unearth her endurance, to test its limits. i want to explore her undoings and remakings. what i enjoy most about her is the volatility of her that most would not see coming, because volatile and tempestuous and emotional is what she is. she is all heart, all the time, everywhere. can you imagine how visceral that has to make every experience?

imagine the potential for growth if she let herself just feel all of it. if she opened herself up, and let the universe rush in, instead of walking on eggshells as she does. just imagine. that’s what i want for her.

CHARACTER DEATH: i could, of course, see prue meeting an end. in fact, there are a couple of circumstances that could make it deliciously poetic, even.

Writing Sample.

They match each other: step for step; right, then left –

Hardly anyone turns to look at the two of them anymore. The two of them, making their way down the hall, with their dark heads leaned close together, like two plants growing towards one another when the sun leaves them for too long. It might be more peculiar to see them apart. There is a strange pride that twists a corner of Prue’s mouth at the unshakeable knowledge of the fact – a hint of tremendous pride at the small, precious claim THE WORLD makes with the statement of their proximity. It is everything to her, and perhaps it is what lends to the smoothness of her gait as they move past the portrait-eyes that scrutinise it, as if they await another of the many stumbles they’ve already witnessed. Prue floats beside them.

Her heart is gone, long-since pressed into the palm of their hand. Does it weigh them down? She could pretend it is why she keeps their fingers curled into the crook of her elbow, helping them carry the heaviness of the heart she’s given away to them; Prue holds fast to that touch with her own hand covering their fingers, unwilling to give up those four pressure-points that burn her flesh through the silk of her sleeve for anything, enough to shield it with the dome of her palm.

“ – Prudence?”

Their hand flinches at the same time as Prue’s grip on their fingers tightens. As if a chill blew in, and froze the marrow in her bones, the girl stills in place. It is not because she recognises the voice. It is because she ought to have done, for what the cant of her head finds is a woman whose gaze mirrors her own: amber-warm, almond-shaped. It is her same mouth that speaks the syllables of a variation of her names that does not belong to her, not as Prue does.

“Mama –” she says, her voice so quiet, she fears it might not reach her.

She is too far away now. Even mere footsteps away, she is too far.

Extras.

✦ INSPIRATIONS → anne shirley cuthbert – from anne of green gables; tiana – from princess & the frog; missandei of naath – from game of thrones; margaery tyrell / house tyrell – from a song of ice & fire; madame lebedeva – from deathless; effie trinket – from the hunger games series; jack pearson – from this is us; patroclus – from the song of achilles;

✦ INSPIRATION TAG → here;

✦ PINTEREST BOARD → here.

#accepted #accepted: the lovers

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helenarasmussen87 · 4 years ago

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Writing Asks

This the post where I know no one is going to ask me anyway.

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Something that is like a “Oh hey, what happens if we do THIS!” and go from there. Usually ends up having loads of emotions, comfort, angst, introspection, loads of kitchen sink dialogues, not too much action. Families, happy endings.

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Fluffy stuff and humourous stuff. I am a little too serious for either one and my humour is drier than the desert and very odd. So no.

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Teacher and Student relationships. Necrophilia, abuse of all sorts, underage. Just not my thing. I’ve gotten unable to stomach a lot of grimdark and super dark stuff as I get older so I won’t write it. But go ahead if that’s your thing.

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Two, since I can’t have more than two on the burner. Learned THAT early on and they’re Terror AU’s One is a fixit, but with health complications and angst. The other is a Modern Day AU which has two professors falling in love after one gets injured and the other worked as an EMT and helps to take care of him and they fall in love.

5. Share one of your strengths.

I can offer insights on what flows and what doesn’t. I can also happily shred my own drafts if they don’t work.

6. Share one of your weaknesses.

Action. I work at it, but it’s not my favourite. Or war writing.

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

“Danny had to turn his head away to hide his smile, because he knew that it was a legitimate concern for Jose. Most of the time, he had jumped into bed with his partners first and then did the mating dance.

Although extremely smart in other aspects, dating and social interactions were always a bit skewed, because he was always second-guessing himself and nervous as hell.

“That’s actually how things work out in these situations. At least it did for me and my ex and for me and Claude.” Danny explained calmly, making Jose nod and take another pull of his slurpee.

“So what do I do? Like is there a time when I bring up the possibility of us sleeping together?” Jose asked, the words slightly mumbled as he chewed on the straw.

“You don’t bring it up. You’ll just know when the time is right for it to happen. Sex isn’t what a relationship should be built on. Yes, it’s nice and it’s part of it, but it’s not the end all to be all. Trust me on this. It will happen if it’s meant to happen.” Danny explained, hoping that he had put it all in the plainest and simplest terms he could for his friend.

I am proud of this because it was majorly borrowing from life and I can see the difference from earlier writing.

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

“Sergio laughed shortly. “I’ve already done enough of that, and look at where it’s gotten you. Yeah, legally I hold claim over you. I could make the club buy out your contract and sit at home all day, having litter after litter.”

Iker’s blood froze at that and he turned to look at Sergio to see if he really meant it, but Sergio’s face gave nothing away.

“Or I could sign your rights to the club and let them sell you wherever or to whomever. Take you out of Spain, or sell you to Getafe or Malaga. All of these things I could do. The club actually did bring it up at that meeting you didn’t show up for.”

Iker blinked, his hands going numb as Sergio’s wickedly honed words hit home.

“I’m not telling you this to hurt you. Or make you feel indebted. I’m telling this to you because you’re this close to losing your spot and that’s the last thing I want for you. But there’s only so much I can do for you.”

He sighed and looked at Iker dead in the eyes.

“I miss him too, Iker. I miss Antonio every fucking day. And I miss you.”

Iker swallowed hard as Sergio abruptly turned and left, slamming the front door and freeing him from the command so suddenly that Iker fell onto the couch and curled up in it.

He had no energy to do anything else. Not when he was all too aware he’d fucked up and fucked up big and needed to fix it.

Borrowed from life again and it was more of a dialogue that needed to be had when you finally realize how much you fucked up and how much you need to stop coasting and make it right.

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

ALL OF THEM! Kidding. I want to say the one I’m working on right now. I was lucky enough I got a ton of help fleshing it out. I can see the end of the 1st chapter and I am having a hell of a time writing Goodsir’s chunk. He’s turned out more emo and romantic than I was expecting.

10. Which fic has been the easiest to write?

The QuiObi prompts for the prompt week. Took me like two hours to knock them off and post.

11. Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

Its a passion and a hobby. It helped me through a lot of rough patches and keeps me sane.

12. Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

Mostly music or a change in life. I tend to write when everything is in flux with me.

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Just write. Worry about editing later. Once you have something on the paper, fixing it up becomes easier.

14. What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Edit as you write. You don’t get anything done.

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

Oooh. I think it’s a toss up between my Qui-Gon/Jango fic in a pastoral setting where they have put their pasts behind and are farmers on Concord Dawn. Or the Werewolf fic I wrote during my RPF phase.

16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

Bloody hard. I would have to say Fitzier (Commander Fitzjames/Captain Crozier)

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Depends. Sometimes I go straight from beginning to end and sometimes I end up writing the middle and not figuring it out until later.

18. Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

Outlines. I have notebooks I jot down point form notes about the characters and the plot.

18. Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

Mine is a librarian or an alchemist trying to figure out answers and how things fit in.

19. Describe your perfect writing conditions.

A good playlist. Alone, in my room.

20. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

I revise it along the way when I sit down to write. Then before I post, I give it a once over to make sure it flows and makes sense.

21. Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions).

All my old fics are honestly gone so I’m skipping this one.

22. If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

Honestly? The Duo and Heero one I wrote about them being in an abusive relationship where they split up, then got back together again. I was again writing from life, and I have seen couples who did overcome it, but looking back, I think I should have written it that they separated and went their own ways.

Keep in mind I was very young when I wrote this, and I was in an abusive relationship myself and didn’t realise it at the time. He hit me once, apologised and never did it again. But he did end up manipulating me, gaslighting me, and emotionally abusing me until I finally had enough and left.

23. Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

Yes. Loads of them due to me not wanting to finish them. Or the hosting sites going under.

24. What do you look for in a beta?

Someone who is honest, someone who knows the way I write, and has suggestions to fix those said things. But someone who is themselves is the best. Because they know what they want. Same here.

25. Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?

I do, simply due to lack of steady betas. Flow and story telling, but I also look for syntax and formatting as well as grammar. I will miss typos, so I run spell-check too. I mostly use a mental rubric. Teacher training.

26. How do you feel about collaborations?

I haven’t had a successful one due to the second person always deciding that they can’t follow through or up and disappearing. So I don’t do them.

27. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Oh my God! I read so much and so many different people that I can’t pinpoint three. I usually end up reading a fic or two, so I can’t say why I read the author.

28. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

I haven’t done that. I do admit to having inspired by fics. I wouldn’t ever presume to do that. It just feels like a snub.

29. Do you accept prompts?

Not really. I can’t tailor write stuff consistently.

30. Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

Oh always! I end up liking the characters that somehow never make it until the end. And in the Terror, unless you want to write angst all the time, you HAVE to ignore canon. And I mean BOTH the book and the show, since the book is nasty. The show is amazing, but oh my god is it depressing.

31. How do you feel about smut?

Yes damned please!

32. How do you feel about crack?

Depends on how well it’s done. Sometimes it is needed. Sometimes it’s like “Why?”

33. What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?

A bit tricky. I don’t mind non-con, but it has to be handled well. Dub-con, especially in A/B/O happens within context and it is usually dealt with. So I can tolerate that more than the first. Outright abuse, no.

34. Would you ever kill off a canon character?

Yes. Not often thought. But yes. I usually try and keep as many alive as I can though.

35. Which is your favorite site to post fic?

AO3, its a wild place and I love it for that reason.

36. Talk about your current wips.

It’s an AU where two professors that live in the same building and work in different faculties get thrown together and start to get to know each other. Due to circumstance, one gets injured and the other kind of volunteers to help take care of him, where they fall in love. The others in the vicinity do also. There’s Canadian shenanigans and baking.

37. Talk about a review that made your day.

That they really liked how I wrote Frank Randall and would like to see more with his son, an OC I created for the story.

38. Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

I either delete, or give a generic reply and leave it. I’ve got stuff to do.

40. Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

Nope. It just doesn’t work for me.

*somewhere I fucked up on the number but here you are*

Whoever wants to do this.

#about the author #asks #memes

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traveller-lover-dreamer · 6 years ago

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Daughter of the Sea, chapter 7

Yo guys I wrote the next DOTS chapter today and I kinda like it a lot even though it is a lot shorter than the usual chapters. Enjoy your reading!

Pairing: Royal!Tom Holland X Royal!Reader

Word count: 6k

Warnings: Death, blood, kinda smut too but it isn’t like a normal full on described smut I guess?? But they still have sex and it’s explicit, I tried to find every typo but english isn’t my first language so it’s kinda hard for me

Author’s note: Hey guys I’m happy to tell you that the prologue is in this chapter! The only thing is that I’ve changed it a little bit for it to fit the story better but it’s almost practically the same!

The fishmongers’ shouting was getting overwhelming as you spent another day in the port, looking for a galley that would accept to cross the Mermaid Sea. It had been almost a week. Seven days of getting told that you were crazy to want to cross the Mermaid Sea. Especially at this time of the year. Autumn was coming and the gods knew storms were more frequent in autumn.

“There aren’t any new ships”, you stated.

The prince sighed. “We’re losing time.”

Words hadn’t even reached Meryndel yet though. Perhaps your father had declared war already but he hadn’t called for the banners just yet. You hoped this was a good sign.

“What about this galley?” asked Lord Pettyfer.

“I don’t trust them”, Tom said.

Their banner was a black skull on a bloody background. Bloody because you swore the fabric wasn’t supposed to be that shade. It looked like dried blood and just to look at it sent shivers down your spine.

“They’re our only hope”, Carlson stated. “All the others have refused more than once to give us safe passage to the North.”

You grabbed Tom by the arm and pulled him aside.

“Tom, we don’t have a choice”, you told him. “I don’t like them either but by the look of them, they are pirates. And only pirates will accept to sail the Mermaid Sea, you know it.”

“I have a bad feeling about them”, Tom explained. “Their ship looks half broken if I’m being honest and that banner of theirs is a frightful thing. We’re not boarding this ship.”

“What could happen?” you asked.

“For instance they could decide that murdering the prince of the North and the princess of the South is a good idea”, Tom said. “Or they could keep us both alive and sell us as slaves in the Golden Islands. They could also ask for a ransom to the kings. With the war coming they won’t be able to spare the gold to save us.”

“Listen, Tom”, you softly said. “I’m scared too. But if we pay them enough, I don’t see what could go wrong. We could offer them the Windy Isle.”

“The Windy Isle is a desolated place”, Tom stated.

“Desolated because pirates sacked it years ago”, you told him. “They could rebuild something on the island and make the place their den.”

“Y/N, this is even a worse idea”, Tom refused.

“We could tell them that if they stay in our grace they will receive gold each year”, you continued. “No need to plunder anymore.”

“Pirates always want more.”

“Then we’ll give them more”, you assured. “We can’t stay here any longer and you know it.”

“If we die…” Tom started.

“That’s on me”, you finished. “But if we don’t, we’ll save both of our kingdoms.” You walked back to the other men. “We’re going on the pirate galley.”

The men followed you as you leaded the way toward the galley. The docks were crowded and more than once you had to step aside to let a litter or a fishmonger’s cart pass. Tom quickly joined you at the head of the men, a hand on the hilt of his sword to scare thieves away.

“You know people could attack you, princess”, he stated.

“They won’t”, you affirmed.

“And why is that?” the prince asked.

“I have six armed men behind me”, you explained. “And a dagger up my sleeve.”

Tom had given you the dagger the day after you had arrived in Meryndel. He said that it was to make sure you were always safe. And it helped you to feel safer if you were being honest. Even though you had no clue how to use it.

“Most of thieves also have a dagger up their sleeves”, Tom said. “And most of them know how to use it.”

“I’m tired of depending on people, Tom”, you confessed. “I don’t want to always have to wait for people to protect me. The world can’t be so bad. Not everyone wants to kill or steal or rape.”

“That’s not what I’m saying”, Tom interjected. “You just have this way of moving that shows you are rich. I don’t know. It’s something in the way you walk with your head held high.”

“Are you saying people would attack me because I look rich?” you asked.

“Sums it up, yeah.”

“Then I’m lucky I have four knights, a lord and a prince with me”, you said as you stopped next to the galley.

You scanned the docks in search of the captain of the ship. Your eyes stopped on a fat man all clad in dark blue silk.

“That’s our man”, you whispered to Tom.

“Let me do the talking”, Tom said.

He walked toward the captain. He was just far enough to be out of earshot, so you watched the whole exchange, hoping that the captain was going to accept.

A moment later, Tom walked back towards you.

“We have our ship”, he said. “Thing is, only me and the princess can get in.”

“No, that is not happening, prince Thomas”, Lord Pettyfer said. “We’ve all sworn to protect you when we left Londir. We have to be with you if we want to be able to protect you.”

“I know, I know”, Tom said. “But the captain doesn’t have the place for more than two people.”

“I don’t like it”, Lord Pettyfer said.

“It’s going to be just fine”, Tom reassured. “We’ll pay them with gold and precious stones. The captain asks for a lot but at least we know we’ll be fine.”

“You know he’ll probably only take the gold and kill you afterwards?” Carlson interjected.

“I told them that the payment will be awaiting us on the other side of the sea”, Tom said.

“There isn’t any payment on the other side”, Lord Pettyfer doubtfully said. “Don’t you think they’ll kill you for this?”

“We’ll figure something out”, Tom reassured. “He said it should take somewhere between a fortnight or a month to get there. Plenty of time to figure something out.”

“We’d just have to send a bird to Londir”, you suggested. “The king would most certainly send an envoy with the gold.”

“Perhaps you’re right”, Tom admitted. “We’ll give it a try.” He paused, glancing at the two sailors who were staring at you from the deck. “We’re boarding at first light tomorrow.”

On that note the prince spun around, walking towards the other side of the docks where the inn in which you were staying was.

You shot a look to your right as sailors hollered. You noticed their eyes were on you but they spoke a weird language. They were shirtless, but their skin were covered in dark tattoos which almost looked like spirals.

“Gods are good…” you whispered.

“You know them?” Carlson asked.

“No”, you said. “I’ve only heard stories of their people. What are they doing here?”

“Islanders”, Tom said. “They even trade with the North, princess.”

“I’m betrothed to their prince”, you stated. “Or was betrothed. Don’t they know about the war?”

One of the sailors whistled and jumped on the dock. Another man whose skin was as dark as a moonless night followed him. Their hands were on the hilts of their scimitars and the looks on their faces were nothing good.

“Why are they coming our way?” you asked as Tom stood in front of you.

“Valas satharnas prinketh”, the first sailor spat.

The sailors stopped a couple of feet away. The knights stood around you, their hands on the hilts of their swords.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Tom asked.

The men laughed. “Dakhas nakhornah kloddeth”, the second man said. “Dunh kahlleas.”

“Does one of you speak Islandish?” you asked.

The Northerners didn’t have the time to answer. The two sailors launched forward, unsheathing their scimitars at the same time. Carlson was killed as he jumped in front of the prince to protect him from the attack. You stood in shock as the fight unfolded around you. Well, the fight wasn’t so long. Tom slayed the man who had killed Carlson and Lord Pettyfer decapitated the other one with a single blow of his long sword.

“Best get out of here”, Tom said through ragged breath.

“What should we do with Carlson?” you asked.

“We leave the body here, princess”, Lord Pettyfer said. “We can’t risk getting caught by the guards.”

“But…” you started.

“Y/N, there’s nothing we can do”, Tom softly said.

You shot a glance to the body lying in a pool of blood before looking back to the prince.

“Okay”, you whispered.

You followed the men to the Red Horse Inn, keeping your head low. All you could picture was Carlson’s dead body and the fact that it could have been Tom. It could have been Tom. That single thought was one of the scariest you had ever had.

When you got to the inn, the knights decided to stay in the common room but you felt sick and needed to be alone for a moment. Tom followed you up the wooden stairs.

“Princess”, he called you as you unlocked the door to your room.

“Thomas”, you said as you opened the door and walked in, the prince following after you.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that”, he apologized.

“It wasn’t your fault”, you stated.

You exchanged a long look with the prince as you again thought Tom could have died.

“If it wasn’t for Carlson…” you started.

“It would have been me, I know”, the prince carefully said.

You sat down on the bed after having put your dagger down on the night table. You hid your face in your hands as the adrenaline left you. You sighed shakily as tears formed in your eyes.

“Hey, it’s fine, princess”, Tom gently said as he sat down next to you.

“Nothing’s fine, Thomas”, you cried. “A month ago I was still home and everything was alright. Now the world has gone mad.”

“No, it hasn’t”, the prince insisted. “We’re on our way to stop a war.”

“And we’re risking to get killed every day”, you added.

“But that’s part of life”, Tom stated. “Everybody dies someday. You just have to make it all worthwhile while you’re still here. Remember, we’re doing this for our kingdoms.”

“I know”, you sighed. “I’m just scared. If you would have died today… nothing would have been able to stop the war.”

“But I didn’t”, Tom reminded you. “And tomorrow we will sail with the pirate ship and hopefully a month from now we will be wed in the White Church in Londir.”

You weren’t really sure about this but you hoped the prince was right. If he wasn’t… then you didn’t know what would happen. Well, in fact you knew. You knew you were going to die in a helpless attempt to save your kingdom from a meaningless war.

“If things go wrong…” you started.

“They won’t”, Tom insisted. “The gods are on our side.”

“Are they really?” you asked, glancing at Tom.

He reached up to dry your cheek with one of his thumb. “They are, princess.”

His hand lingered on your cheek as you got lost into the golden specks in his eyes. He slowly leaned in, barely pressing his lips against yours before pulling away. You put your hand over his before he moved it, your other hand finding the back of his neck to pull him closer. You kissed him as your heart skipped a beat in your chest. He could have died.

The kiss got more heated as your lips moved together, the fire inside of you being awakened yet again. Because that’s what Tom was: a raging fire. And kissing him like that made the fire so much brighter.

You lied down on the bed, pulling Tom closer. The prince hovered over you as you bit his lower lip. He pulled away and resisted when you tried to kiss him again.

“Princess”, he said with a low husky voice. “We can’t do this.”

“We can’t kiss?” you asked. “In a month we shall be wedded. Husband and wife can kiss all they want.”

“But we aren’t yet”, he insisted.

“You could have died”, you whispered.

“I didn’t, I’m still here.”

You held his gaze for a moment and this time he didn’t resist as you pulled him closer. He kissed you, carefully, but the fire in you wasn’t one to be tamed. Your tongue danced on his lower lip before it found his.

Suddenly, it was as if Tom had been struck by lightning. He was electrified by the way your lips moved against his and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop. So he kissed you back, the electricity flowing freely in his bloodstream.

The prince left your mouth to leave a trail of hot kisses along your jawline. He kissed your neck, sucking on the skin. Your hand tugged at his curls and he raised his head as you crashed your lips against his.

Tom put one of his hand behind your knee to wrap your leg around his waist as his hips grinded against yours. You could feel his arousal against you and that’s when you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop. Not this time. You had wanted this to happen ever since that night in the woods and now it was too late to stop.

Tom sat in bed, his hands fumbling with his breeches. You sat up too, helping him to unlace his breeches. He took off his linen shirt and then got up to take his trousers off after having undone his sword belt. Suddenly, he was standing right there in front of you, naked, and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks.

“I’ll need your help to get this dress off”, you said.

Tom nodded his head as you got up. He unlaced your dress, kissing your neck as he did so. He took the dress off of your shoulders and let it fall to the ground. His lips connected with the skin of your shoulder and he sucked on it. You moaned softly.

Tom made you turn around, taking in the sight of your naked body. You felt shy under his stare but when his eyes got back to yours you knew you had no reason to worry.

“You are beautiful”, he whispered.

You blushed as he pulled you towards the bed. You lied down on the mattress as he climbed on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you kissed him with all the passion in your heart.

Although you should have been scared, you felt at peace right now. You were going to lose your maidenhead, but you would lose it to someone you loved. And although it mattered that you keep your maidenhead until the wedding, nothing could stop you right now.

Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders as the prince thrusted in and pain shot through your body. Tom raised his head from the crook of your neck.

“Are you alright?” he gently asked.

“I am”, you answered through ragged breath. “More painful than I expected it to be.”

“We can stop”, the prince whispered.

“Don’t”, you refused. “Just go slow.”

And he did. Eventually the pain died down and you were able to actually enjoy the moment. Tom started moving faster and you let out a moan. His lips found yours again and he kissed you gently.

“I won’t last long”, Tom whispered against your lips.

You only kissed him with all the fire in your heart in response. Soon enough, Tom stopped moving as he let out a breath and spilled his seed inside of you. You kissed him for a long time before Tom rolled over to lie beside you.

You felt more alive than you had ever been in your life. You looked around you and although the room hadn’t changed, the light seemed brighter. The colors were more beautiful. But what was truly beautiful was the man lying next to you.

You rolled on your side to put your head in Tom’s shoulder. He put his arm around you and you laid there for a long time before moving. The sun was getting low on the horizon when you did, painting the room in gold.

“Should we get something to eat?” the prince asked.

“That sounds like a great idea”, you answered as your stomach grumbled.

The prince chuckled as you sat down in bed, smiling a lazy smile.

“I’m starving, actually”, you stated.

“I could tell”, he laughed.

You both got dressed, Tom helping you to lace your dress, before walking down to the common room.

You ate in the men’s company, washing the food down with ale. All along you watched the prince and it was like you were seeing him for the first time. He seemed to be glowing although his hair was a mess. Which is my fault. Just that thought made you blush.

The men’s mood wasn’t really cheerful, especially not since Carlson had died. But everyone knew he had died doing his duty, which seemed to be the best death for knights.

Later that evening you walked back to your room along with the prince. You made love again as the silver rays of the moon bathed you in its glow and then fell asleep in the prince’s arms.

Morning came faster than you had wanted it to. You had to get dressed quickly to get to the ship on which you were going to make your way across the sea. Again, Tom helped you to put on your dress and he softly kissed you before you left your room.

“Do you think we will be fine?” you asked.

“Together we will”, he replied.

Tom stopped in the kitchen to ask for a loaf of bread along with berries to break your fast and then you made your way out to the docks. Surprisingly, the docks were pretty empty at that time and you were able to walk to the ship without being stopped by anyone.

You shot a look to the spot where Carlson had been killed yesterday. The body was nowhere to be seen but there was dried blood. You looked to the dock where the Islander ship had been but it was gone. You looked away, concentrating on the ship you were going to board. Its red sails were lowered, hanging loosely from the mast. The black skull on their banner was flapping in the wind and it looked even more dreadful in the rising sun.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked Tom.

“Yes”, Tom reassured. “I’ve offered them all the gold in Huller Town and the Windy Isle.”

For a moment you didn’t understand what Tom was talking about but then you remembered that Huller Town was probably the richest city in the North.

“I hope that’ll be enough”, you said.

The captain saw you from the deck and he jumped down from the ship.

“Climb on boat”, he said with a thick accent.

According to what you knew about accents, you suspected that this man was from the east. He smiled to you and you noticed most of his teeth were rotten. It took everything in you not to throw up in his face.

“Lady follows not”, he added when he noticed you following the prince.

“What?” you said.

“Sir, I told you yesterday that we both had to sail to the North”, Tom reminded the captain.

“Lady on boat bad”, the man said. “Gods mad.”

“They won’t be”, Tom reassured. “Remember, we will pay you all the gold in Huller Town.”

“Yes, prince Thomas”, the man said before climbing on deck.

Tom stood still, clearly not understanding how the man knew who he was.

“This is bad, Tom”, you whispered in his ear.

“We don’t have the choice”, he repeated. “Come.”

He grabbed your hand to help you to climb on board. The captain had made his way to the back of the boat and was shouting orders to the crew. You noticed how every man seemed to be of a different origin. You noticed a Sandazi from the desert tribes, recognisable thanks to the scars on his cheeks. There was some Islanders too and one or two men from the east. The Dragon people… you wondered what could have brought them to this ship.

There were also a few Southerners and a few Northerners on board, but they kept a careful distance with you. You didn’t know what the captain had told them but you were glad for it.

The cog set sails as the sun rose in the sky. The wind was blowing hard which was a good sign for the crossing. You watched as you exited the docks, zigzagging through bigger ships. Eventually, the cog left the bay of the city to finally sail on the Mermaid Sea.

You watched the seagulls following the ship, listening to their cries. Thomas was sitting somewhere on your left. The moment he had set foot on the ship you had known that the crossing was going to be hard for him. Although the sea was not really agitated at the moment, you could tell he was already sea-sick.

You walked to him as you took in the smell of the sea air. It smelled of fish and salt and of something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Tom shot you a look as you stopped next to him and then rested his gaze back on the city that was already disappearing in the distance.

“First time on a boat?” you asked.

“We don’t sail on boats in the North”, Tom stated.

You laughed. “Well, I’m sure there are fishers in the North too, Tom.”

“Yeah there are”, Tom replied. “We actually have this thing we call fish and chips. It’s really good. Although the thought of food is making me sick right now.”

He got up and walked to the rail of the boat. He retched the food he had eaten for breakfast before taking a step back.

“This is going to be awful”, he complained.

“I’m personally feeling quite alright”, you admitted, a playful smile on your lips.

Tom squinted at you. “This is unfair.”

“You”, the captain suddenly said, making you jump. “Give me sword.”

Tom seemed alarmed for a moment but he nonetheless unbuckled his sword belt and gave it to the sailor who was accompanying the captain.

“Have weapons?” the captain asked you.

You sighed before pulling your dagger from your sleeve.

“Good”, the captain said. “Now, go in cabin. You prisoners.”

This was bad. You shot a look to Tom, who seemed to be about to retch again. Which he did before two sailors dragged him to the cabin. You walked behind them, knowing that resisting was completely aimless.

The cabin stank of burned oil but it was cozier than expected. There was a bed nailed to the floor, along with a desk and a chair, both nailed to the floor too. On the desk there was an oil lamp, which was currently not lit up. Another one was hanging from the ceiling. Each time the cog climbed a wave, the lamp moved which made its flame flicker.

You sat on the bed, along with Tom, who seemed about to throw up yet again. The captain stood with his hands on his hips next to the door.

“Bucket for prince”, he said before leaving the room.

Tom took a deep breath and you put a reassuring hand on his knee.

“You’re going to be alright”, you gently said. “It’s just like if we were on the ground.”

“Except the ground’s moving”, he complained.

“It barely is”, you remarked.

“I hope it won’t get worse”, Tom whispered.

“It won’t”, you affirmed although you knew there was no chance the sea would be so calm all along.

The captain came back with a bucket that he gave to Tom.

“Meals at sunset”, he told you before leaving again.

You heard him lock the door behind him and you sighed. You would have much rather spend the journey on deck.

The first days were the worst for Tom. He threw everything he ate up and even when he hadn’t eaten anything his stomach heaved. You never were sick, although the smell in the cabin grew awful with Tom’s vomit. At least the captain sent a boy to clean everything up every day.

The meals consisted of fish and algae, sometimes accompanied with salt beef. Most of the time it was only fish though. That didn’t help Tom and the first days he didn’t even take a single bite of the fish. He eventually got used to it though and were able to eat a little by the beginning of the second week.

You knew it was the second week because you had received seven meals by then. If you had understood correctly, the captain had said that you were going to get a single meal per day, at sunset. So this was your only way of keeping track with the time that was passing by outside of the cabin.

You had tried talking with the boy who cleaned the room but you had eventually realized that he couldn’t speak. At first you had thought he just didn’t know your language but then you understood that his tongue had been torn out.

You took a sip of the flagon of wine the boy had brought you the last time he had come for the supper. Tom was currently sleeping and you were left listening to the sound of his soft snores. You tried to listen to the sounds outside of the cabin but they were too indistinct for you to understand something. You heard shouting outside of the cabin and suddenly the door flew open. Tom was woken up immediately.

“What is going on?” he asked.

You shrugged your shoulders as the captain walked in.

“Serpent”, he explained. “See.”

He motioned for you to follow him and you shot a questioning look to Tom. Tom decided to follow the captain because he needed fresh air and you followed them because you couldn’t help but to wonder what the captain had meant with “serpent”.

You quickly understood what he was talking about when you saw the glimmer of the sun on the blue and purple scales of the monster swimming next to the ship. It was approximatively twenty meters long, which meant it was longer than the cog itself. The ship crew were all looking at it, dreading the moment it was going to attack. But it didn’t.

The creature disappeared under the sea after having swam next to the boat for about an hour. From that day you were granted access to the deck, as long as you stayed on the side and weren’t in the way of the ship crew. Tom didn’t seem to appreciate being on deck as much as you. Not seeing ground around made him feel sick and he wasn’t able to stay on deck for more than five minutes at the time. But you could and you did.

Your favourite moment was at night. Especially when the wind stopped and it felt like there were stars in the sea too. Everywhere you looked they shone and you had never seen so much stars at the same time. It was beautiful, really, and you felt as if you were the smallest grain of sand in an infinity of black.

The captain seemed to take a liking to you because every night he stood with you under the stars, showing you how to use them to guide yourself across the sea. He showed you the Star of the Sailor, a bright star that indicated where the North was and he taught you how to use a sextant. You were pretty good at it and you even helped him to use it when the night sky was cloudless.

You felt lucky. If it wasn’t for the captain liking you, you knew the crew wouldn’t be treating you with respect. You could see how some of them looked at you and you knew they wouldn’t want to drink tea with you. Their gazes were undressing you and it made you feel uneasy. But none of them ever approached you.

To say the captain appreciated you was probably an overstatement. He only talked to you at night, when most of the crew was sleeping under deck. Still, nobody dared approach you in broad daylight so you were thankful for it.

Somewhere in the middle of the third week, the wind died down. The cog stayed unmoving for days, which was making you feel uneasy. It was of ill omen. The provisions were running low and although there was a fisher net with which the sailors could catch some fish, you were forced to start rationing the food. Water was running low too and the North was still nowhere to be seen.

The cog stayed motionless for five days. By the fifth day Tom was feeling almost well, as if he was back on the ground. Unfortunately, by the end of the day, the sky in the west turned black as night and the wind came back. You noticed how the clouds seemed rolling towards you. A storm was coming.

The captain ordered to you and Tom to go back in the cabin and to stay there until the storm had passed. That’s how you found yourself sitting on the bed, your hands in Tom’s, as the boat crashed down waves after waves. At this point you almost felt sick too, because you were scared to die. But you didn’t retch like Tom was, so one could say you were almost doing well.

The wind was howling outside of the cabin and the sea was raging. It felt as if Poseidon was determined to take down that small ship who dared sail his waters in the middle of a storm. The light from the oil lantern kept flickering and you were convinced it was soon going to give out. Your grip on Tom’s hands got a little tighter as the ship crashed down yet another wave. From the inside, it felt as if a giant was holding you in the palm of his hands, shaking you up and down, like one would shake an hourglass in an attempt to stop the course of time.

Your thoughts went to the ship crew that were all out in the madness. A month ago you would have never dared to think that, but now you were afraid they were going to die. Them dying meant you dying, drowning in the salt water of the Mermaid Sea. You had always been afraid of this sea in particular. Ever since you had sighted the serpent you had been afraid. Although the sailors had taken it as a good omen, somewhere in the back of your mind you had known it wasn’t.

Few were the sailors that dared sail the Mermaid Sea and you understood why as the ship crashed down another wave. You had angered Poseidon when you had chosen to sail on his sea and he was going to make you pay for it.

There was a loud noise outside of the cabin, the noise of wood breaking. You hoped with all your heart that it wasn’t the mast. Without it, you weren’t going to be able to move forward as fast as you had did up to now. And you had to reach Tom’s kingdom before your father’s army did. For the sake of both of your kingdoms, you had to.

You watched as Tom’s face seemed paler and paler by the minute. He didn’t like the sea. He had never did. His people were a horse people. They rode their stallions in battles and around the world. That was the way of the Northerners. You were a Southerner, your people sailed the seas on carracks and long ships. Well, you had never been on a ship before, only men were allowed to sail the seas, but you still had it in your blood.

“That storm is going to be the end of us”, he whispered.

You barely heard him under the sound of the wind and the rain.

“Tom, those pirates know the sea, they’ve sailed it a hundred times before”, you reassured him. “We are going to be just fine.”

He shook his head.

“You heard what they said.” His voice was stronger now. “It’s of ill omen to let a woman board on a ship. They said it was going to anger Poseidon, they said…”

You put your finger on his mouth to silence him.

“Tom, the captain doesn’t believe in Poseidon”, you stated. “Only the Northerners and Southerners of the crew do.”

There were voices outside the door. Tom’s eyes were round with fear.

“They are only superstitions”, you added, trying to convince yourself, as the captain and two pirates burst into the cabin.

They were drippling with water and the ropes around their waists hung heavy. The captain said something in a foreign language, but you recognized the words “woman” and “sacrifice”.

“Don’t you dare”, you said as the two sailors walked towards you. “My father will pay you whatever you want if you bring me on the other side alive.”

“Silence”, said the captain with his deep accent. “Men say woman on ship dangerous. Want sacrifice to Poseidon. Calm the god.”

“No”, shouted Tom as his hands went to the pommel of his sword. Only to be met with emptiness.

The two sailors pushed him roughly and you lost your grip on his hands. They grabbed you by the arms and dragged you out of the cabin, where two other men were waiting.

Utter chaos was the outside world. You caught a glimpse of dark clouds before a wave crashed in, the salty water making your eyes burn.

Maybe you should have been scared. You were going to die. Simple as that. The sailors were following the rules of the universe. Maybe it had been your faith since the day you were born. To be the sacrifice that was going to stop a war. As long as Tom reached the shore, the war could be stopped. But you were just a woman and Poseidon was asking for his price.

You were lucky the men had been holding you because, when another wave rolled in, you lost your footing and fell. You swallowed some salty water and your throat started to burn. It tasted like fish. What a weird observation for someone that was going to die.

They brought you toward the front of the boat, toward the bow, which was sculpted like a mermaid, as it plunged down another wave. They were going to throw you overboard, to sacrifice you to the raging waters. You considered fighting, but you knew it was meaningless. They were pirates, they knew how to fight, you had no chance against them.

You reached the bow as the ship reached the crest of a wave. The world laid there in front of your eyes, but soon enough the tip of the boat leaned down the wave and it started to plunge down. You closed your eyes in time to stop the water from getting into them, but the pirates’ grip on your arms went loose and the wave caught you. You lost your footing and as you were about to scream, water got into your mouth, drowning the sound.

You got tossed around by the wave, you didn’t even know if you were still on the boat or if you had already been thrown overboard. Your head hit something and your body went limp as you felt your life drain from you. Maybe you were dreaming but you heard some voices. Singing. It was melodious and if you hadn’t been on the verge of dying you would have cried because of the beauty of it all. But your strength was leaving you and your lungs were burning for air. But down where you were, there was no oxygen.

You felt a hand grab your wrist ever so gently and just when you were about to lose consciousness, you heard a voice in your mind. It said a simple word. Sister.

Read chapter eight here!

Taglist: (message me if you want to be on or off the taglist)

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#daughter of the sea #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tomaholic #thomas holland #thomas stanley holland #fanfic #fanfiction #Smut #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you

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chosospersonalkitten · 6 years ago

Text

Ten Mermaid AU Part 2

First of all, sorry I don’t update often hnnnnngg don’t hate meeee! Second of all, sorry if there’s typos, ya girl doesn’t spell check because lowkey I’m lazy and it’s midnight oops

Two boxes. You had two boxes full of souvenirs that you have been collecting for Ten and his friends that had quickly became your friends as well.

You smile to yourself, in less that four days you’ll be on vacation and that meant seeing him again. You felt a little bit bad. You’ve been gone for months, almost an entire year. A part of you hoped that Ten was as loyal as he said merfolk are.

There was a knock at your door.

“I thought you said you were going on vacation? This looks like you’re planning to move!” Your friend, y/f/n, laughs.

“I met some people during my last vacation and I promised to bring them anything I thought they’d like.” You lie, thankfully y/f/n buys it.

She helps you load the boxes into your car.

“The rest of us are going to the lake tomorrow, you should come with! We all haven’t hung out together since high school.” You almost agree, you want nothing more than to go the lake with your friends and make the best out of the horrible heatwave that’s taken over your town. But Ten’s words practically haunt your mind, if he was joking, then what in the actual fudge, but what if he was telling the truth. His ex- a naiad, a.k.a a freshwater mermaid- would she drag you under water and have all the creepy and scary things in the lake eat your body beyond recognition and the police could identify your body through your teeth? Maybe.

“Um... I might have to take-” Y/f/n interrupts you.

“Please don’t say rain check! You don’t even have to get in the water, just come with! There’s going to be food and booze and ice cream!” Ok, she may or may not have gotten you when she said food.

“Ok, I’ll come. But I’m not getting in the water.” She nods and hugs you tightly.

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

Apparently your friend found a loophole in your “I’m not getting in the water.” A fucking boat. She rented a boat without your knowing.

“Technically you’re not in the water, you’re on it.” She shrugs as she drags you onto the floating metal bowl of death.

You did your best to stay away from the edge.

“Y/n...” You turn to look at y/f/n, but she wasn’t talking to you, in fact she wasn’t even looking at you.

“Y/n...” You hear the voice again followed by a small giggle and splash.

You peer over the edge of the boat, you couldn’t see anything but your reflection and the blinding reflection of the sun in the water.

Just breathe, don’t overthink things, Y/n... You tell yourself.

You jerk backwards and fall on your butt when something smacks against the boat. Y/f/n looks over to you as the rest of your friends look on from the shore to make sure no one was playing a trick on you guys.

“Are you guys alright?” One friend shouts from the shore.

Both you and your friend wave to them, indicating that you’re fine.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Y/f/n asks as she steps, cautiously, over to you.

You nod your head, she holds out her hand to you. Almost every ounce of your being was telling you not to take her hand, that something wasn’t right anymore. You shook off the feeling, you just saw her earlier and you didn’t have this feeling.

You take her hand, but she doesn’t let go. You were take aback when tears began to well up in her eyes.

“Hey, are you okay?” You attempt to comfort her, but her grasp on your hand doesn’t allow you to move.

“Don’t make me do it.” She cries, softly.

“Don’t make you do what, y/f/n? What’s wrong?” Tears pour from her eyes like tiny waterfalls, her eyes dart to the water then back to you. Then it hits you. “Y/f/n, let go of my hand, please.”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t? Dammit, y/f/n! Let. Go. Of. My. Hand.” She shakes her hand.

“I literally can’t, y/n! I want to but I can’t! She won’t let me!”

The boat begins to rock, giggles fill the air.

“I’m so sorry, y/n.” The boat tips over just enough where you and your friend fall in.

Y/f/n reaches out for you, desperately trying to shake off the possession she’s under.

You felt a hand wrap around your ankle and pull you further down into the water.

The last thing you see is y/f/n trying to swim to you before she’s swarmed by three creatures.

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

“Wake uppppp. Come on, silly human! Wake up!” You jolt awake.

“Marina, she’s awake!” You roll over to your side, letting yourself throw up all the water that was trapped in your body.

You were in a small cave, assuming that was underwater with only one way out. From where you were at, the opening looked like a small pool. Untouched gemstones littered one area while the rest was painted with the water’s reflection. You lay there, slightly confused, how was light reaching this area? Unless you weren’t underwater at all.

You felt something pull your hair.

“Ow!” You yelp, you send a glare towards whoever pulled your hair.

Her hair was dark with hints of blues in it. Compared to Ten, her scales were much smoother, but her colors were duller. Her tail looked marbled with reds and brown. Two colors you never thought would look so nice together.

She eyes you before shrugging to herself.

“I can see why Ten is very protective of you.” Your heart races at the mention of Ten.

“A-are you his ex?” You jump back when she begins to laugh and shake her head.

“Oh god no! Even though, we’re from different waters, he’s like a brother to me!” She props herself out of the water and sits near you. “If I was Aqua, you’d be dead by now.”

You gulp.

She smacks your arm in a friendly manner.

“Hey, don’t worry! We won’t let her touch you. I’m sorry if we scared you.”

“Can I ask why you did all that?”

She nods her head before slipping back into the water. Another naiad appears next to her. You could tell that she was admiring you just as much as you were admiring them.

“Not many of us knew what you looked and smelled like. I was able to pick it up off of Ten, and then then your friend came to the water to rent a boat, by the way we’ll erase her memories of us. I feel bad for using her and ruining your guys’ reunion or whatever you were doing.”

“It’s okay.”

“But anyway, I had to make sure that everyone in my pod knew your scent. It’s way more easier than protecting every person with the name y/n.” She laughs.

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

Since that day at the lake two days ago, you still kept your distance from the water even though Marina had said everything was okay. She claimed that Aqua wouldn’t go near her pod alone, but you were still nervous.

Y/f/n walks you to your car, you felt bad that her memories had been wiped but knowing your friend, she would be freaking at the thought that mermaid and other supernatural creatures were real.

“Call me when you arrive, I still don’t understand why you can’t take a plane there.” She sighs.

“Road trips are fun.” You hug her before getting into your car.

You plug in your phone and like the universe was blessing this trip, your favorite song immediately begins to play. You smile to yourself and wave goodbye to y/f/n.

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

To say that you were nervous was a complete understatement. It’s been months since you last saw Ten, what if he didn’t like you anymore, or he met someone else that lived closer than you did... Too many thoughts swirled your head as you and some of Ten’s human friends headed towards his cove.

“Stop overthinking, y/n! We told you he’s literally been thinking and whining about you since you left, don’t worry!” Johnny tells you.

You give him a small smile, he isn’t super pleased but he takes it.

“Also thank you for the gifts.” He smiles, a real smile makes its way onto your face.

“No problem.”

You let them go first, Haechan wanted to show off the gifts you brought for them. You rub the silver bracelet between your fingers. Jade is usually found in salt water, maybe he’s sick of jade? Maybe you should’ve gotten a different type of gem? You were so caught up in your thoughts, you didn’t see Jaehyun walking up to you.

“Y/n? He’s waiting for you.” He squeezes your shoulder.

You hold the bracelet to you chest, your heart was pounding so harshly against your ribcage you were scared that your heart would burst out of it.

His head was the only thing sticking out of the water, you knew he was hydrating himself. He loved to sit out of the water around you. You couldn’t see properly, but he kept looking down at his hands. Did he have something for you or something to tell you?

“Hi, Ten.” You say, softly.

Ten’s head snaps up and turns to look at you. An instant smile appears on his face making your heart race faster, if that were even possible.

“Hi, y/n.” You make your way towards him and sit down on the edge, sticking your legs into the water. He pulls himself out of the water and sits next to you before pulling you into a bone crushing hug. “I’ve missed you so much.”

He presses a quick kiss to your temple making you blush.

“I like what you’ve done with your hair.” He says as he plays with your hair.

“Thank you, I thought I needed a small change.” He laughs, you give him a questioning look.

“You changed your whole hair color, how is that a small change!” He laughs harder.

You played with the bracelet again. Ten hadn’t changed much, he looked a little tanner but you had been gone for the entire summer, so maybe he tanned? Which was weird he lived the water, then he’d constantly be tan? You shake your head to shake the thought out of your head.

Ten tells you everything, about how he and his friends were sad after you left, but also how his tail color slightly changed colors as well. He did his research, merfolks tail only change color if feelings are true, after his small confession, Ten blushes intensely.

But he also talks about the fun times he had as well, how he met two new mermen, Winwin and Chenle. Sadly, they had lost their pod to merfolk-eating giant squid, but that they were happy to find Ten.

A small splash caught your attention, a bright green head of hair barely peaks out of the water.

“That’s Chenle, he’s never really seen humans up close until meeting me.” He whispers to you. “Come on, Chen! Y/n is nice, she won’t hurt you.

Chenle cautiously swims over to you two. He smiles, shyly, at you while hiding behind Ten’s tail.

“Chenle has the cutest dolphin laugh.”

“Dude!” Chenle splashes Ten, making the both of you laugh.

“Where’s Winwin?” Ten asks, you couldn’t help but admire how well he was taking care of his new pod mates.

“He’s hanging out with Jaehyun. Jisung is making fun of my hair again.” He pouts.

“Well, your hair is awesome. You know Jisung is only teasing because he wishes he could be as awesome as you.” Ten ruffles Chenle’s hair before he leaves you both alone.

You begin to tell him what you have been doing since you left. How work was stressing you but it was something you had to do. How Marina had scared the crap out of you. Ten laughs at that part, but says that he was thankful that her pod could protect you. After a few moments of silence, you could tell that he wanted to tell you something.

“I found a sea witch, she said that she could make me human.”

Your heart sank. Of course, you loved Ten with everything in you, but him becoming human would be messy and not easy like the Little Mermaid makes out to be. He would have to prove where and when he was born, that he was an actual person and not someone in hiding. And what if he turned back into a merman in the middle of a public place? Humans aren’t exactly friendly.

“Ten... I don’t think that would be a good thing...” The smile on his face fades.

“What do you mean?” You could hear the hurt in his voice.

“It’s complicated. You would have deal with people constantly asking where you’re from, why you don’t have a birth certificate, stuff like that.” He looks away from you.

“That’s what Taeyong and Doyoung said... I’ve heard of people not having any of those and still get along just fine!” Ten started to get angry, he slid back into the water.

“It’s different, things here are different.”

“So you don’t want me to be human? You just want to live out a fantasy? Oh look at me, I’m y/n and my boyfriend’s a merman!” You threw the bracelet in the water, you were fuming.

“How dare you!? Ten, I like you for you regardless over the fact that you’re a merman! I would love to go on dates with you on the beach, take you to my favorite places on land! Let you taste every food that people have created! But it’s complicated, babe! What if that sea witch is scamming you? What if you being human isn’t permanent? What if you turn back into a merman in public?” You felt the tears welling in your eyes.

“Y/n..”

“No, let me finish! Not every human is as kind as me and your friends, Ten! There would be consequences, you could be taken by the government, experimented on or worse! I love you, Ten. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” You blink away the tears before you realize what you just admitted. “I have to go.”

You stood up at quickly walk away, completely ignoring Ten’s yells.

Taeyong looks at you, he notices your tears.

“Y/n, are you okay?” You nod your head and quickly wipe away your tears. “You’re lying, please tell us what’s wrong.”

You glance behind you, in the direction where you left Ten.

“I told him I love him. He wants to be human, Taeyong! As amazing as that sounds, it’s--”

“Terrifying.” He finishes for you. “Johnny, can you tell Ten, that y/n is okay and that she’ll come back tomorrow to talk to him.”

You wanted to protest, but you knew that both of you needed some time away from each other. Ten had to think if becoming human was something he really wanted to do and you needed to process that you just put your feelings way out in the open.

It’s been months since the last time you were together, was this actual love you were feeling? Maybe it was too soon to admit it, and even if Ten loved you back, how would this work? You couldn’t exactly move here, you just got promoted at work, it would be pointless to quit...

But... You don’t regret your feelings, you don’t regret meeting Ten. You just wish that things weren’t so complicated.

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

Hesitation was laced in each step you took, you look down at your feet. Each step taking you closer to him.

Ten sat on the edge, patiently waiting for you.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. I just thought that being human would make things I don’t know easier? For the both of us, and even with my friends... I care deeply about all of you guys and I thought I was weighing you guys down by having you guys come to me-- Ugh, that’s fucking dumb...”

You take in his words, they made sense, but you and his friends agreed that Ten didn’t have to change for you guys.

“Hey.” You say, softly.

Your voice slightly startles him.

“You didn’t hear that, right?” He panics.

“Hmm.. not unless you wanted me to.” You slightly tease as you sit next to him.

He shakes his head. “Alrighty then I heard nothing.” You give him a small smile, which he returns.

“You know you don’t have to change for us? We honestly don’t mind coming to visit you, Ten. I love coming on vacation over here and seeing you, even if it’s for a short time. One day, hopefully, I can move here, but it’s going to take time. Plus if you become human, who will look out for Winwin and Chenle?” You take his hands into yours.

Realization hits Ten.

“I wasn’t thinking about how me changing would affect them...”

“As cheesy as it sounds, they need you, Ten.” He nods his head.

He understood what you were saying. He couldn’t be selfish when he had two other beings relying on him. Granted Winwin was an adult, but both him and Chenle are too mischievous for their own good.

“And I do love you, but like I said I love you for you.” You lean your head against his shoulder.

“Tail and all?” He jokes.

You laugh and nod your head.

“Tail and all.” You look up at him, only moving little bit back to allow him to kiss you.

His lips moved almost perfectly against yours, the sea salt took you off guard for only a moment. Ten, blindly, lifts you on his lap, it was the first time that you’ve straddled him.

You break the kiss and rest your head between where his neck and shoulder meet and sigh contently.

“I love you, too, y/n. Feet and all.”

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gxldentrio · 8 years ago

Text

Hearts Don’t Break Around Here

Prompt: you’re trying to toilet train your 20 pound cat and you sent me this photo and now I can’t stop crying out of laughter in public.

A/N: Happy birthday to my favourite human @fetchalgernon - I love you. Thank you for making it impossible for me to write modern!jily and not include algernon. So here you go, 100% of fluff and shenanigans, with next to 0 plot. I hope you enjoy <3

Thank you @yourbcky for the stellar beta job x

Read on FFN or AO3.

It’s three in the afternoon on a Saturday when Lily drops a bag of frozen peas all over the floor of her local supermarket.

It really isn’t her fault, to be perfectly honest. Yes, she’s making a fool of herself, crying with laughter as she struggles to gather the peas that have spilled all over the floor. and the others down the aisle - from the old woman looking at the yorkshire puddings, all the way to the middle aged man studying a ratty shopping list - probably think she’s mental now, but it really isn’t her fault.

Picture this: you’re running errands, casually making your way through every different sodding aisle of the nearest Tesco Express because Sirius and co. are coming over for dinner, and the only things you have in your fridge are mustard and cheese crackers – and even though you know full well they wouldn’t mind, you actually feel like trying for a change.

Your phone buzzes with a message notification, and when you slide your finger over the screen, you’re met with a picture of Algernon, your boyfriend’s insane and alarmingly orange cat, sitting next to an empty litter box. Yes, empty, because all of the litter is strewn across the midnight blue carpet, and you can practically feel James’ despair simply by looking at his face.

If this was the case, you’d probably be cracking up like an idiot as well.

[15:02] james: toilet training algernon is not… going as expected

[15:03] lily: I dropped my peas.

[15:03] james: ???

[15:04] james: tht was a typo right

[15:05] lily: I was getting food for tonight and the picture you sent me made me drop my bag of peas.

[15:06] lily: They rolled everywhere, James. I hope you’re peased with yourself.

[15:06] james: :(

[15:06] james: btw i cant believe YOU made a pun

[15:06] lily: I know, you’re a terrible influence

[15:06] lily: Also, you’re cleaning that up.

[15:07]: james: just like u cleaned up the peas right

After that, he adds an emoji, the one with the cool pair of sunglasses, and if it wasn’t so damn endearing, it would probably make Lily want to set her hair on fire. Or maybe she’d set his on fire, he likes it so much, the prat.

Then, Lily does the worst thing she could probably do in this moment – she takes another glance at that damn photograph, and cracks a smile, one that quickly turns into loud and uncontrollable laughter. Especially when she notices Algernon’s satisfied face, almost smirking at her, except not really because he’s a cat.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” one of the store clerks asks her, tentatively placing one hand on her bicep and the other one on the nape of his neck.

“Y-yes!” she answers, struggling – and failing miserably – to contain her amusement. She can already picture tomorrow’s gossip magazine headlines: “SUPERMODEL LILY EVANS LOSES IT AT LOCAL TESCO.”

The thought of it only makes her laugh even more, even harder, and she can feel it tugging at her core. At this point, Lily is pretty sure there are tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Are you quite certain?” the employee asks, looking a tad frightened. He looks about seventeen, a whole six years younger than Lily. She guesses no one warned him about redheaded madwomen when he signed up for the job. Still, Lily mentally praises him for the courage it must have taken to even approach her in the first place. She doesn’t really look threatening, at least she doesn’t think so, but Lily can only imagine what passers-by must be thinking.

[15:18] james: I can’t believe u left me on read

[15:18] james: what kind of betrayal is that

Lily glances at the screen, grinning at her boyfriend’s absolute lunacy. but nonetheless places her phone back in her pocket, choosing instead to pick up some peppers. It’s a tedious task, analysing vegetables, and Lily soon grows bored of it. She hears the tell-tale ping of her phone, and rolls her eyes.

[15:19] james: answer me woman

[15:20] lily: Jesus Christ, James. What is it?

[15:20] james: can u pick up some toiler paper

Quirking up one of her eyebrows, she replies.

[15:21] lily: We have 20 rolls already?

[15:21] james: see the thing is luv

[15:21] james: algernon really likes 2 play

[15:22] james: [Photo Attachment]

“Oh my god,” she whispers, staring at her screen in disbelief. “I leave them alone for ten minutes,” she says, running one hand through her hair, effectively ruining the pretty ponytail situation she had going on.

Quickly, she one-handedly scrolls through the contacts on her phone and presses ‘call’, all while still holding the damn peppers.

“Remus?” she sighs. “Are you busy right now?”

“Not really, why?”

“Would you mind popping over to our place for a bit? Just to keep an eye on James?”

“Is he still trying to toilet train the cat?” but it comes out more like a statement instead of a question.

“Yep.”

She hears him swallow through the call.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“Thank you, you’re a star.”

It takes Lily around thirty minutes to finish up her shopping and for her to reach her house. It takes her around twenty-nine minutes and twenty-seven seconds for her to get over whatever internal fit she was having.

Sure, James may act like an idiot seventy percent of the time, but he’s her James and she loves him. More than she can count on all her fingers, more than she can stretch her arms around her back.

Carefully hoisting up her way-too-many shopping bags, she rings the doorbell with her elbow, the usual smile on her face, because really, how could she not smile when this is what she’s coming home to? Her boyfriend, his ridiculous cat – and, in this case, Remus.

It’s James who answers the door, immediately asking, “are you mad at me?”. Lily is pleased to notice that there’s not a piece of kitty litter in sight.

“Nah, I think I’ll keep you around for a little longer,” she replies, successfully pressing her lips into a line as thin as the horizon. She’s not mad, she just likes watching him sweat a little. Then, because the poor sod looks like he’s about to choke, she adds “so as long as you keep providing me with entertainment, that is.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he says, and a smile stretches across both their lips, as James leans in to quickly peck Lily on the cheek. “Let me help,” James adds, taking some of the plastic bags from her hands.

“Where’s Remus?” Lily asks, removing her pair of aviator sunglasses from her incredibly tangled hair.

“On the couch,” replies James, and she can practically hear the smirk on his voice when he adds, “apparently BBC One is playing Bake-Off reruns.”

That makes Lily stop dead in her tracks. She turns around, back to him, and asks “are you shitting me?”

“Nope,” James answers, popping the ‘p’ and swinging back and forth. “Season five, too.”

Lily gives her boyfriend a toothy grin, and her eyes light up like a kid’s at a toy shop. After shouting a quick hello to Remus, she bolts straight to the kitchen. In the heat of the moment, she pulls out a chair, and mentally curses James for always storing things in the highest possible cupboard.

Unfortunately, her excitement for the bake-off is suddenly cut off when she slips on the recently-wiped countertop and falls on the floor. After letting out a string of colourful ‘fuck’s, she sees James enter through the door and the picture of her covered in cornflakes and sprinkles sends him over the edge, laughing like a complete madman.

“Couldn’t you just have asked for help?” he asks, grinning as he reaches for a Winnie-the-Pooh ceramic bowl. He hears Lily huff from the ground, and it makes him throw his head back as he laughs even more.

To be perfectly honest, she actually likes that he’s a giant compared to her. Even if it means he teases her every time she can’t reach the higher cupboards, because when they hug she can hear his heartbeat closer than she knew was possible. Still, it’s not like Lily could ever admit that.

Instead, she shoots him down with a playful, “do tell, how is the weather up there?”

Surprisingly enough, James decides to stop being a cocky arsehole and stretches out one hand to help her up. As soon as they’re done preparing all the snacks, she heads to the living room, obviously leaving James to carry the tea and cereal by himself.

Lily plops down on the sofa and snuggles closer to Remus. However, instead of her semi-healthy snack options, what she gets is the sound of the doorbell.

“I’ll get it!” James says, the sound of one sharp knock echoing all throughout the house – Sirius.

“I brought wine,” is the first thing he says, and upon hearing Peter’s clumsy footsteps, Algernon comes running from the kitchen and jumps into his lap.

There’s a shriek, followed by Sirius Black’s murderous voice, “get. that thing. away from me.”

Lily gets up to grab some glasses, and the five of them – plus Algernon, of course – curl up on the sofa, with cheese crackers and whatever alcohol Sirius decided to bring this time.

“This tastes like bleach, Padfoot,” complains James, and at the same time Sirius counters with a “it’s an ’83 Chateau Margaux, mate”, Lily says “oh shut up, you love it.”

James pulls her closer to him and murmurs “I love you” into her hair, while Remus makes a point to tell them how disgustingly nauseating’ the pair of them are, but they don’t care.

As long as they have this, they’re happy.

It doesn’t matter that the newspapers make up new rumours every five days, or that Peter is about thirty-seven percent in love with Mary Berry – or Sirius with Paul, for that matter.

Later that night, when their friends have left and it’s about two in the morning, the two of them lay in bed, James’ fingers threading through Lily’s damp hair, their noses touching, whispers of love floating back and forward.

James guesses it must hurt, to have your heart so full that it feels like it could burst at any moment. It’s been so long, and they’re so young, and so, so in love. It’s not like it makes any sense, but then again, things hardly ever do whenever he’s involved.

It’s intoxicating, how in love he is. Every single thing about her feels overwhelming, in the best way possible. From her blood red hair, to the vivid green of her eyes, or the freckles trailing down her shoulders, he’s in love, love, love.

His mind races back to the velvety box hidden somewhere between his socks, all black and from the same brand he’s been using since he was fifteen.

Soon.

#jily #jily fic #fetchalgernon #hp #fyeahjamesandlily #everytime i procrastinated on tmd my efforts went into this silly fic #marauders #mine #my writing #txt #alrightevans #yourbcky #snapslikethis #cupcakeblake #prongsno #ravnclaws #hiddenpolkadots #bantasticbeasts

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gulescamisade · 8 years ago

Text

New York: Day 7

MEULIN: -She can't quite sleep; her dreams have been sort of weird. It's not too unlike usual, but having been bashed through a wall and dealing with serious pain in her ribs isn't the best for rest either. Her sylladex is back, so she's got her overhead light on and her notebook in hand, scribbling new lines. She's writing about Dave and Karkat currently, because they won't answer in the bulletin feed. She's anxious.-

JOEY: =Ugh, plane rides always threw off her sleep schedule, now more than ever since it had been near a decade since the last time she was on one.=

JOEY: =Seeing Meulin's light on, she weaved through the aisles until coming up to her row, sleepily rubbing an eye.=

JOEY: having a hard time zonking out too?

MEULIN: !

MEULIN: -She had kept the glasses on idly, but words scrolling across the screen startle her a little with how "quiet" it had been for some time.- OH... -clears throat, trying to be quiet.- MMHM...

MEULIN: -glances over at looks at Joey more fully- HEY, SO... WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?

MEULIN: I MEAN... NOT SUPER LITTERALLY. BUT WHERE HAVE YOU B33N? BEFORE NOW.

JOEY: tons of places, really...

JOEY: i lived on alternia for quite a while before bouncing between earths and alternias

JOEY: and now im finally back where i started :)

MEULIN: HAVE YOU NEVER B33N TO BEFURUS? -chirps with interest, wiggling in her chair to face Joey more fully-

MEULIN: -she doesn't seem to quite be grasping the plurality. She thinks it might just be a glasses typo-

JOEY: oh....no I dont think so

JOEY: my travels were stuck between the two switching back and forth

JOEY: thats actually a correlation I never really thought about... it's something to tell jude when he's awake haha

MEULIN: OH??

MEULIN: WHY BACK AND FURTH THERE?

JOEY: =is the seat open next to Meu? if so she's taking it. Funny enough, she found trolls easy to trust, having lived around them for so long. But Meulin was a stranger.... WELL, not for long!!=

JOEY: well see, it all starts with a long story, but the abridged version is that ive been trying to find my way back

JOEY: from different universes

MEULIN: -IT SURE IS, until Joey takes it.-

MEULIN: DIFFERENT MEWNIVERSES? -knits brows- I GUESS I'VE B33N TOLD A LITTLE ABOUT THAT... BUT IT S33MS SO SILLY...

MEULIN: NOT THAT I DON'T BELIEVE YOU! IT'S JUST... I GUESS IT'S HARD FUR ME TO MAKE SENSE OF.

JOHN: -he's been listening for a little bit, he didn't want to interrupt- it's the real deal, meulin. jake showed me a picture and everything.

MEULIN: ?! -LOOKS AROUND FOR JOHN.-

JOHN: -he's right here. he waves-

MEULIN: -OH HI-

JOHN: haha, sorry i didn't mean to startle you. i was listening to joey.(edited)

MEULIN: SO PEOPLE ARE JUST... HOPPING AROUND ALL WILLY-VANILLY?

JOEY: oh...im guessing different universes are common knowledge here? hehe i thought i was revealing a whopper of information that would totally blow your mind out of the mind ballpark

JOHN: hey i don't know about all that. all i know is jake is from a different universe too. and he showed me a picture of dirk from a different universe.

JOHN: but as far as i know he only went once. he didn't just...ping pong around like you're saying.

JOHN: -eyes her curiously-

MEULIN: OKAY, SO THIS ISN'T JUST MIND BLOWING FUR ME. GOOD TO KNOW. ~(=^. .^)

JOHN: my mind equals blown.

JOHN: -mimes the "mind blown gif thing"-

JOEY: oh

JOEY: well ping ponging might only work under very specific circumstances JOEY: at least in my case

JOEY: did jake come through a doorway?

JOLENE: ... -shifts a uncomfortably where she's sitting nOW THAT I'M PAYING ATTENTION-

JOHN: man...i don't know. i never asked him.

JOHN: sorry!

JOHN: don't worry though. you'll get to talk to him soon when we go get him.

JOEY: i hope so :)

JOEY: it would be an interesting conversation

JOHN: so uh, what was it like being a human on alternia?

JOHN: i mean tbh it sounds pretty terrifying.

JOEY: the trick is not to be a human on alternia ;)

JOHN: 👀

JOHN: -???-

JOHN: okay now you've got me all intriguied.

JOEY: well as long as you look the part, walk the walk, and talk the talk, trolls can be easy to fool =glances over at meulin= no offense

MEULIN: NONE TAKEN, WE'RE FURKING WEIRD.

JOHN: haha wow. really? so you slapped on some horns and face paint and that fooled the alternian authorities.

JOHN: wow. great job guys.

JOEY: well learning the language, registering as a maroon, and getting a sustainable job was a touch harder, but =shrugs=

JOHN: -raises his eyebrows, impressed.-

---

[SPEAKING OF TRAVEL PLANS, it's been getting a little bit harder to keep going the direct path they've been going in this plane-- between the border patrols protecting against the CANADIAN RESISTANCE LEAGUE and the ships that keep passing them by-- often requesting identification or confirmation of some kind-- it's been getting downright dangerous. The fact that they wound up in the middle of Ontario just to avoid some of the heat is beginning to make this a harder affair than it should be-- especially since they can see several other blips on the plane's radar rapidly approaching them.]

JOHN: -observes this bullshit- aw man...........

MEULIN: -after all her restlessness, she actually ended up falling asleep at last, leaned over with her head in Joey's lap, snoozing soundly. Prr prr.-

JOEY: =She's also sprawled in the chair, one hand on Meu's shoulders and a bit of drool running down her chin. A beautiful sight. Are the passengers able to hear the blips? Or see "blip" scroll across glasses in a lovely marquee?=

[The restfulness is interrupted by a few shrill chimes... it would seem the blips are getting MUCH closer. And much more interested in getting a straight answer out of this vessel.]

ROSE: -She sits up abruptly, waking from some kinda dream where her eyes are open, glancing around the cabin.-

JAMISON: =WHAT THE HOODLY-DOODLY? Is Jamison or Jolene driving either way he's ALERT and peeps at the radar= We seem to be the hot new thing in the clouds!

[ PLEASE IDENTIFY YOUR VESSEL AND ITINERARY]

[also it's jamison if u want it to be]

MEULIN: -She is deaf to the chimes... at least unless something else wakes her up.-

JOEY: =She jumped in her seat at the sudden shrillness of it. The movement may be enough to rouse her.=

JAMISON: =What should he do... should he LIE? He'll lie. Takes on a weird high-pitcher voice= Oh.... hullo!

JAMISON: We're simply a jerky craft delivering jerky from questionable products as anticipated bipbip right right! =Casually flies... how many are there? AIRFIGHTING is much more of a delicate dance than fighting on land and sea... it requires...... surprise=

JOEY: =she's rubbing her face, trying to wake herself faster=

[ There's a good four of them... and it IS a cargo vessel. So it's not exactly handling like a dream...]

JAMISON: =AUGH=

[ There is some mumbling and rustling on the other end.]

MEULIN: -snorks and CHIRPS out of her sleep, ears perked despite nothing to listen to.- WHAT...?

MEULIN: WHAT'S WRONG? -adjusts sunglasses on her face-

[ 'warning shot?' 'yeah dude warning shot' ] [ ' should i do it or--'] [ 'YOU ARE BOTH COWARDS'] [that one was less of a mumbled rustle as it was a scream, as a missile flies directly towards their tail.]

[ ' OH HEY GUESS WHAT ASSHOLES, GUESS WHAT, KOLETA DOESN'T KNOW WHAT A FUCKING WARNING SHOT IS, BIG SURPRISE']

[ the one who evidently named the shot and is ALSO evidently named Koleta shouts something back.]

ROSE: I-- I think you can cut the com channel.

JAMISON: Frigs Koleta! =SWERVES plane=

JOEY: =she puts a finger to her lips, signing "Contact" and pointing to the cockp--= JOEY: =SCREAMS!=

JAMISON: =HE KICKS IT=

[ There is a muffled BOOM as the plane shakes. But the blips are getting closer-- at least there's no obvious major damage.]

MEULIN: ~(=ΦェΦ) !!!

MEULIN: FURK!!!! WHAT WAS THAT???

MEULIN: ARE WE BEING SHOT AT???

JAMISON: We may very well have to make an emergency landing, all!

ROSE: Slightly.

JAMISON: Perhaps if they clip us with another missile we can use debris as a cover while they chase the bum plane on auto-pilot!

ROSE: We're... not too far from a town. I think. -She squints at her phone.- ROSE: That's actually a good plan.

ROSE: We can lay low and secure another transport.

ROSE: And they may possibly believe we're dead.

JAMISON: Right-o!

JAMISON: In which case everyone brace yourselves for a good bailing! =He'll have to pay attention and time this right=

[BOOM. BOOM. And then, BOOM. it sounds like the other three pilots were all showing of that thEY know what a god damned warning shot is.]

ROSE: I--

ROSE: Do we have... parachutes?

ROSE: I haven't been able to do much, since the falls.

JOEY: yes! =flinches at the booms=

MEULIN: -reading as fast as she can- BAILING??

MEULIN: -scrambles out of her seat-

JAMISON: Of course, no good explore leaves without one!

JOEY: they seem a heck of a lot bigger than bullets though!

JUDE: -absolutely has a parachute? you never know when you're going to need one.-

JAMISON: =He's so proud of his kids....=

JOHN: well uh, i can carry a few peeps but a big group might be a target.(edited)

ROSE: Right. Right. Visual cover or something.

JOEY: =She ducked out into the aisle and began throwing open compartments to see if there's anything useful in there? like additional parachutes.=

JOEY: =calls over to jude= we should skydive until we reach a safe distance from the ground to avoid being sitting targets in the air!

JAMISON: I do have a raft which could cover a few souls!

JAMISON: =Hide them behind a raft falling out of a plane.=

[There's some supplies! There's actually a flaregun in there, some walkie-talkies... not that they've needed them, since they have communicators.]

JOHN: oh hey good idea!

JAMISON: =SOMEONE GRAB THOSE WALKIES HE'LL TAKE EM APART AND MAKE EM GUNS AND BOMBS AND GUNBOMBS=

JOEY: =He likely knows this of course, but everyone knowing their game plan is nice= JOEY: =She scooped them into her sylladex anyway.=

JOEY: =brilliant minds=

JAMISON: =Good on ya Joey!! :D =

[BUT NOT THE FLARES JAMISON??]

JOHN: - flips the raft on its side and holds on to it firmly- well anybody without a chute grab on tight!

JAMISON: =YES OF COURSE, they do well for lighting people on fire=(edited)

JOHN: the egbert airline express is ready for take off! :D - salutes-(edited)

ROSE: -Takes a deep breath and grabs onto it.-

ROSE: It cannot possibly be worse than going over niagra falls.

JOHN: smooth rides guaranteed. sorry no peanuts. (disclaimer: smooth ride not actually guaranteed.)

JAMISON: Those with be sure to cover yourselves with the chunks blown clean from our very own flyer!

[ SOME MORE MUFFLED BOOMS. Hitting the aircraft, in fact. And less muffled. And more shaky.]

ROSE: ...Yes. Good timing. -SLAMS THE BUTTON TO OPEN THE CARGO DOOR-

JOHN: nyoom! - SCREAMS THE WORD NYOOM, double checks that everyone is grabbing on and then JUMPS-

JAMISON: =He waits for all to vacate in the smoke and wreckage= GO GO GO!

JOHN: - It's not as difficult to hold on as if they were simply falling. it's more like going down a VERY VERY long and steep slide with the Breeze carrying them- pchoooooo!

JAMISON: =Once they've gone he sets the plane on auto-pilot and dives for the door as well, covering his body with some debris and free falls. Doing spins to appear like normal wreckage.... gotta committ=

[The planes don't seem to pick them up-- all going directly after their cargo plane. They probably see them whooshing overhead, following the trail of smoke and fire.]

JAMISON: =Excellent, he ditches the debris and dives a little closer to the ground before deploying his parachute=

[ Prepare for a ROUGH LANDING. They're near a road-- one that hasn't been upkept all that well, but still a road no less! And a sign of nearby civilization.]

JOHN: - now that the danger seems to be gone he enjoys the rest of the ride, holding onto the raft tightly and at the last second, laughing and flipping the raft over so they land on it-(edited)

MEULIN: -WELL SHIT THEY SURE ARE FALLING. She can almost sort of hear a little bit of this with what tiny hearing she has left, with all the wind whipping in her ears.-

JAMISON: =DOOF! But he doesn't blow out his shins! He's hastily folding the parachute up and shoving it back in his dex, it can be used later!=

[There are MULTIPLE DOOFS.]

ROSE: -kind of wheezes as she looks around...-

ROSE: ...About half a mile south.

ROSE: Is. The town I mentioned.

JOHN: -remains spilled over on his back, looking up at the sky upside down.-

JOHN: great day to be in canada, eh? weather looks fine, eh?

ROSE: John, please.

ROSE: You were practically Canadian already.

ROSE: I've met your father.

JAMISON: Mighty fine weather to be not where we were! =Dusts himself off and looks ahead=

ROSE: I'll agree to that.

ROSE: -She rubs her back, sitting up and looking around. A moose is staring at them, knowing no fear.-

JOEY: =floats to the ground shortly after, Meulin in her arms=

MEULIN: 333333!!! (ノᄌ<。)

MEULIN: -no less than CLINGING to Joey. she glances at the sky to see if their plane is going to spiral down and explode somewhere, since it's likely she won't hear it. She is sort of distracted by that moose, though.- (´⊙ω⊙)

JAMISON: =A MOOSE? WHERE!!=

JAMISON: =Instantly distracted=

http://i.imgur.com/DqDLwfq.gif

JOEY: look at that majestic creature JOEY: :D

JAMISON: =Slides out his knide slowly=

JOLENE: -NO!!-

JAMISON: =WE NEED TO EAT=

JAMISON: (Sssshhhhh.)

MEULIN: -shakes her head, freeing the fur hair.- B33 ARE B33. -crawls off of Joey to prowl...-

JAMISON: =MEULIN gets it!=

JOEY: D: =but it's a moose!=

JOEY: =earth wildlife!!=

JAMISON: =Imagine the honor it'll have to be our meal then..... also if it's running... he's in pursuit=

[THIS HERE EARTH WILDLIFE STARES AT THE APPROACHING MORTALS PEOPLE]

JOEY: =WE MEAN NO HARM OH MOOSE GOD! i mean, meulin and dad proabably do but wow please dont eat us=(edited)

JAMISON: =Hello dinner!=

JAMISON: =He's approaching with fists raised. Giving it a chance to FIGHT for it's life=

JOEY: =s otp=

JAMISON: =HE'S GIVING IT A FAIR SHOT=

MOOSE: -oh it will. IT CHARGES HEAD ON-

JAMISON: Have at thee future meal deal! =He watches this charge and is gonna try to duck under the horn charge to CHOKEHOLD a moose=

MOOSE: -NOT FOND OF THIS ARRANGEMENT!!! IT TRASH-

MEULIN: -SHE'S FLANKING THE MOOSE!!!! and then pounces from behind. EN GUARDE.-

JAMISON: Whoa there! =Is thrashed and HAWs at Meulins pounce=

JOEY: D':

MOOSE: -IS TACKLED TO THE GROUND BY A CATPOUNCE-

MEULIN: -CLINGS TO ITS HAIRY MOOSE BUTTOCKS WITH CLAWS-(edited)

MEULIN: -also, BITES ITS BUTT.-

MOOSE: -WOW????-

MEULIN: - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g5GnMR2EB54 –

JAMISON: =They'll try to make this quick mighty beast. Once Jamison gets a good foothold in the snow he's going to try and end it swiftly with his old man muscles=

MOOSE: -DEAD-

JAMISON: =DROPS IT= Well then! Dinner well caught!

JAMISON: :D

ROSE: There was a town nearby.

ROSE: So we could have—

ROSE: Actually, nevermind.

ROSE: Good work.

ROSE: -GOTTA KEEP MORALE UP SOMEHOW-

MEULIN: -HUFF PANT. Her glasses went flying in the midst of this so she misses that too. Retracts claws and offers Jamison a HIGH FIVE.-

JAMISON: =HIGH FIVE!!= :D

MEULIN: - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6YMPAH67f4o -

JOEY: =if a baby moose walks out of that forest she's gonna cry=

MEULIN: .... -veal-

JOEY: =NOOOOOOO!=

#ardentcupid #gyratingEonian #effluentBalatron #tenebrousThorns #gardylooTheroid #guardeniaGadgeteer #euphobicGeotech

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