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degrees-of-fuck · 2 years ago

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Thinking about my OCs as DoL protags #2: Eden and Esmee Koizumi

im sorry for subjecting you to more of this but thats why read more exists i guess. I put these 2 together because. Y’know. Being deeply codependent twins, they can’t really Be separated outright. Each other coming up is kind of inevitable. Also as I mentioned before the actual Degrees of Lewdity character Eden is not going to come up here because it would be so fucking confusing to talk about that, as much as I think it would be interesting.

tw for quasi-incestuous bullshit. Like more than whatever Robin and Clara have going on. And also once again, LONG.

The twins were the minor child star children of some out of town rich folk, so when a servant arrived dropping off the two ten year olds all hush-hush and on the down low, it was... Strange. As far as the twins themselves know, this orphanage was just... Nearby. Exactly their god damn luck.

People were very curious about them at first, but on account of them both being really difficult to talk to in their own ways interest would eventually die down. Eden would likely have made constant vain attempts to make Bailey like them. Going around scolding the others for things they wouldn’t like, bringing (poorly made) coffee every morning, shit like that. Esmee on the other hand fucking hates Bailey and has made it her life mission to make their life more difficult in every way she can conceive of. She hates authority figures by default, but with how much she likely rifled through their stuff, she probably figured out exactly how bad they are pretty early on.

TF-wise, I’d say that Eden is a harpy angel and Esmee is a harpy fallen angel! They’re riddled with angelic imagery in any universe and they have simultaneously a songbird thing And a swan thing going on. So angels and birds are Key Koizumitwins Motifs that I cannot ignore.

They were both with the temple from a pretty young age. They’d probably know Sydney pretty well?? (I’ll go more into what a clusterfuck I’m picturing THAT as in a bit-) Eden would remain loyal to the temple, but Esmee - curious cat that she is would find some shady shit about them eventually. That paired with her dislike of being constrained in any way and how creepy some of the clergy members here are would lead to... Well, she wouldn’t stop showing up. She’d be too worried about Eden. But she’d stop paying attention and stop giving a shit. Minimum grace lol. She’s just sat next to Eden glaring viciously at anyone that approaches them.

I think Eden would end up in a similar boat to Robin, honestly. I can’t picture any way that Esmee would even be willing to let them pay their own rent in this hell town. She NEEDS to preserve that innocence she hates so much at all costs. So from the moment she turned 18, she was paying for two. Eden is technically the older twin and takes that seriously, so this serves as yet another instance of them failing to protect her. So they really fucking resent this arrangement, but not quite enough to change it.

Speaking of which, they probably wouldn’t talk to Robin much honestly. At the orphanage, the two would keep to themselves and not really befriend any of the other orphans. (Particularly with what an annoying little hardass Eden was as a kid lmao)

On top of them both being kind of childhood friends with Sydney, both would be drawn toward them for the same reason! Sydney reminds Eden of their idealized version of Esmee and reminds Esmee of Eden. So obviously they’d both have weird feelings for them. :) And also both would be maybe... A little too in favour of Sydney dying their hair black and maybe cutting it? A bit shorter? Maybe? Don’t look into it too much, you’ll get a headache. 😬

Esmee finds Sydney FUCKING INFURIATING sometimes tbh. Like for the Exact reason she’s drawn to them, too. Of course she’s annoyed by them, they remind her of her sibling that she “hates.” She thinks that there’s no way they can survive in this world and is making a near constant concerted effort to corrupt them because of that. Which also? Removes a lot of the traits that remind her of Eden??? I guess it’s where she vents the part of her that wants to shatter Eden’s bubble of immaculate purity that stands in opposition to the larger part of her that wants to protect it.

Eden has a lot in common with Sydney tbh, so they can be Besties. The only reason Eden doesn’t sneak out of the orphanage to hang out with Sydney at the temple at night is that they know Esmee is out there, might see and would be seemingly unreasonably angry at them for going out alone at night (because she doesn’t want them to be jumped). Sometimes they manage to swallow their pride and ask her to go together, but not often. They’re the older twin, damn it! Why should they have to ask their little sister to protect them!? But they do want to do that, because they have really horrible insomnia. At least the two can bond over a chronic lack of sleep. They take naps together in the library <3 On the more negative side, Sydney reminds Eden of their idealized version of how Esmee used to be. Which sucks for Sydney. They may not be able to protect their actual sister, but they CAN try to protect Sydney! SO BASICALLY EDEN BECOMES A STALKER. (like twin like twin i guess) This. Might put a bit of a dampener on their friendship once Eden gets to that point,,,,,,,,,

Esmee’s actual love interest would probably be Kylar! She’s fully aware of how fucked they are, but she’s like. About equally fucked in a different direction, she thinks. If anything, she respects the Stalker Hustle lol. AND they have really nice knife! She has lots of knives! Kylar check out her knives. These ones are throwing knives, but they’re really cute right? (Plus it’s. Nice to not be the one over-anxiously following someone around trying to keep them safe for once. And they’ll NEVER abandon her, unlike SOME people!) Although I think that actually getting involved with Kylar puts Esmee in A LOT OF DANGER! Because ESMEE FUCKS. If someone looks like they’ll make Eden worry about Esmee and need to keep close to her, she’s right into their pants. If someone looks like they’ll satisfy her self harming Thrill-seeker tendencies, she is into their pants. You get the picture. She is going to wreak absolute havoc on Kylar’s nerves, even if she Does put a stop to this if they get into a serious relationship just on account of being a massive flirt with a particular reputation. Good luck both of you : I

SO BASICALLY we have Kylar stalking Esmee who is stalking Eden (and about 12 other people) who is stalking Sydney! COOL.

In theory, Esmee would be a fun delinquent that would absolutely get in on whatever Whitney’s got going on. However. Whitney would bully Eden MERCILESSLY I imagine?? So Esmee wants Whitney in a hastily dug hole in the woods, with twenty knives in them. Sorry Whitney Likers. So I imagine that as far as Whitney’s concerned, Esmee’s in the same category as Kylar: Weird little creep that pulls knives on them in the cafeteria. She’s just slightly cooler on account of the whole Bad Girl 😎 thing.

Esmee gets around a lot, but I don’t think she’d prostitute herself. Not out of concern for her wellbeing or like Puritan Moral reasons tho. Just PURE UNADULTERATED SPITE toward Bailey for being so eager to whore her out. She mostly steals and blackmails. Well liked by Landry I’d imagine!

Avery took Esmee out on like two dates because she’s a pretty little thing that they know to be a talented musician that would make them look good, but her personality was too unbearable to them lol. After one violent encounter in a hotel room, they never went out together again as Avery moved onto Eden! Who is ALSO a pretty little thing they know to be a talented musician that would make them look good ! The key difference is that Eden is malleable. Truly, a much better companion than that sister of theirs that keeps popping their tires and phoning them in the night with threats and a voice changer. It’s a shame that they’re so, uh... Reserved, though. The furthest Avery’s managed to get them to go is nervous mouth stuff and it’s really starting to piss them off.

In terms of teachers, Eden is probably well-liked by most of them? (Though they mostly avoid Leighton.) Sirris probably likes them both on account of having been good friends with Sydney for so many years. Doren has likely noticed Esmee’s weird behaviour tho tbh. She’s told them a lot of weird shit that sure SOUNDS like she was raped, but she keeps insisting that she’s FINE, ACTUALLY. Very concerning. They keep telling her she can come to them whenever she needs to talk, but she keeps blowing them off :/ Esmee likes to swim at the lake and Mason’s is her favourite class, so she spends plenty of time annoying the shit out of them and trying to blow them off too.

As for Leighton,,,, Eden avoids them like the plague and cries a little whenever the threat of detention even comes up. Esmee often ends up taking their place, borrowing their uniform and re-styling her hair to look like them on the rare occasion they somehow get it. As for Esmee,,,, I think that while she hates Leighton, she probably features in their Home Movies and Photo Albums quite regularly. Better than Eden and in a sense, it feels kind of cathartic to her. Occasionally, Eden tries to return the favour in a moment of courage. They don’t exactly regret it? But they hate it SO SO MUCH. If they way Leighton treats them is frightening, the way Leighton treats Esmee is enough to give them a heart attack! Which is really all the more reason to take their sister’s place whenever they can do so sneakily enough that she won’t bully them into staying out of it. Thankfully, Leighton’s interest lies mostly in watching, but they still come out of every instance of this wanting to sob and throw up. Esmee can never know.

Esmee is probably on good terms with Darryl. Same feelings of frustration toward them as Sydney and Eden occasionally, but she feels a lot more guilty for those feelings in this instance. She appreciates having a place to work that doesn’t involve Briar and being whored out and breaking her Spite Pact. It’s a shame because she wants to fuck Briar. (Plus it’s like, safer or whatever. She doesn’t care about that part.) I think Esmee will tend toward defending them and then acting super aloof toward them for the rest of the night.

Every time Esmee disappears for a while under suspicious circumstances, Eden just completely retreats into themselves and refuses to leave their room <3 Or hers, more likely. Yea they probably just start sleeping there and lock themselves in.

Esmee seems like a fucked up little sewer rat treasure hunter sort to me lol. Depends on her mood at the time. This does unfortunately mean she has totally met Morgan. She.... Stayed with them for longer than she cares to admit. Being Charlene and staying with a parent that would never abandon you to the point of it being terrifying was something that held a certain appeal to her, even if it was fucking awful down there. She hates herself for it, but sometimes she goes back and gets caught on purpose. Just to pretend for a while.

Lol Eden somehow managed to win the math competition without drugs and everyone is perpetually baffled by how they pulled this off. (IT’S BECAUSE THEY DON’T FUCKING SLEEP. They were really desperate to win both that and the science fair, it was finally a way to make money that they could do! They wanted to help their sister!!!)

Both of them met Avery basically simultaneously when Esmee was trying to help Eden up a tree with her weak ass 5′2 self. Avery helped them up, but was more drawn to Esmee initially, since she’s the more charming of the two.

#Koizumi Twins (DoL AU)#this one was REALLY fun to think about #like all the ways they'd play off each other in relation to the town #and vise versa #plus these two have a lot more feelings for the people around them than lettie #who is kind of untouchable #so i got to go more into the interpersonal dynamics here #sorry that lettie dissociates through 80% of social interactions lol #I might think more about her another time #but she's harder being the kind of person she is #It would be difficult to make it work without Eden and without the established lore in my head but #i kind of want to make a separate save for esmee lol

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vanserraseris · 3 years ago

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END OF PART XIV - I feel like I should say that things don’t really get any happier?? A few years have passed since the last part and Eris is a little ooc. Just a warning that there are mentions of character death and blood. Thank you to everyone who reads.

omfg i am SO sorry it took me forever to get this part up. anyway im crying

Prince of Ashes. Part XIV.

masterlist.

Eris sat on his stool once more, the old wooden legs creaking under his weight. He was well aware that the small, ugly tavern was well below an acceptable place for him to be, but he’d needed a break. Pity, Eris thought, that he hadn’t been able to find one. He shook his head, little pieces of broken glass falling from his hair and onto the sticky bar top. He felt blood dripping down the side of his face and wiped it away with the back of his hand.

The female behind the bar had pressed herself up against one of the shelves, had put as much distance between the two of them as was possible. Eris simply pushed the glass in front of him towards her, no emotion in his voice as he said, “I’ll have another, if you don’t mind.” Her brown eyes widened before she whirled around, quickly grabbing the already open bottle of cognac behind her. With shaking hands, she poured the drink into his glass.

Eris could hear her rapidly beating heart and scowled, bringing the glass to his lips and draining its contents. The female rushed to refill his glass just as the doors to the tavern opened. Eris didn’t turn to see who it was, he didn’t have to. He recognized his friend’s scent, scrunching his nose as he wiped at more blood that dripped down his face. Eris’s ears twitched at the sound of Lagos walking towards him, his boot-clad feet crunching the broken pieces of glass on the floor.

Eris tried not to breathe in too deeply as Lagos pulled a stool towards the bar, the wooden legs dragging through a pool of blood, it’s iron scent burning through Eris’s nose.

“Have you been doing that all day?” Lagos sounded very disappointed as he sat down.

Eris wasn’t entirely sure whether Lagos was talking about the drinking, or about the two dozen faeries he’d killed. It didn’t really matter, his answer remained the same, “Just started.”

“It’s unlike you to drink without company.”

Eris raised a brow, turning his head in his friend’s direction, but looking past him. Eris stared at the dead faerie slumped against the dark wood of the bar as he spoke, “Are you here to join me?”

Lagos sighed, moving so that Eris could look at him instead. “I’m here, Eris, because Rufus told us where you’d be. He’s worried, we’re worried, and you won’t tell any of us a thing.”

Eris scowled, turning away from him to face the female behind the bar.

She was staring at him differently now, the fact that she recognized who he was evident in her lovely features. “How much for the whole bottle?”

“Ten coppers,” she said, voice clear despite her obvious nerves.

Eris shoved his hand into the back pocket of his brown pants, placing ten gold marks on the table instead. “I’m buying the bottle and I’m buying your silence.” Eris made sure there were flames in his eyes as he looked at her.

Eris hadn’t known that the rebels he was looking for would be sitting in the tavern he’d entered. They’d paused at his arrival, their loud talking turning into hushed murmuring as he’d sat at the bar. Eris had seen the leader, had recognized her from the large scar over her brow, and wished he hadn’t. They’d all put up a good fight, would have made excellent warriors had they not chosen to fight against Beron.

Eris had decided to spare the young female behind the bar, the only survivor, because she’d reminded Eris of his mother. She placed the bottle in front of him, nearly dropping it as she said, “Yes, my prince.”

“I think it would be best if you left,” Lagos advised, tilting his head towards the door.

Eris only briefly watched the female as she grabbed the gold, as she scrambled out of the tavern, stepping over a dead male as she practically ran away from the bar.

Eris sniffed, swirling the cognac in the bottle as he slowly pushed his full glass towards Lagos. Instead of speaking, Eris chose to lift the heavy bottle to his lips.

“You aren’t going to find happiness at the bottom of that bottle,” Lagos muttered, running a hand through his long, dark hair. The gold tattoos on each of his fingers seemed brighter than usual in the gloom of the tavern.

Eris rolled his eyes, “I’m not trying to find happiness.” He raised the bottle in his friend’s direction before he took a long drink, “I’m trying to drown my sorrows.”

Lagos furrowed his brows, “I think you’ve had enough.”

“I’ve definitely not had enough.” Eris shook his head, the scent of blood making him dizzy. Perhaps if he drank a little more, he wouldn’t be able to smell it. “I finally understand why Cato was always in such a foul mood, though.”

“Eris—”

“The High Lord has me taking over some of his duties,” Eris waved a hand, eyes scanning the small space around him, looking over all the dead faeries. Eris hadn’t known the extent of what his father had been making Cato do all these years, had never bothered to ask his younger brother what his duties had been outside of questioning prisoners at The Forest House. Being in Cato’s shoes as Beron worked to find his replacement had Eris feeling absolutely dreadful.

Lagos took a deep breath, “This is what Cato did?” Of course Lagos would be horrified. Eris had been sent to the small town outside Calchas to find the steadily growing rebel group, and had been ordered to kill them if he did. Rebel groups in Autumn seemed to be getting more and more popular; Eris wasn’t surprised.

Eris faced his friend, looked into his dark brown eyes. “Horrible enough to drive anyone mad, isn’t it?”

“It would explain why you yelled at Rufus this morning.”

“Fuck off, Lagos,” Eris snapped, “Honestly, if you’re here because Rufus is worried, you’ve come here in vain.”

“I’m here,” Lagos snarled, “Because if Rufus can’t get through to you, I’m not sure anyone else can.” Eris couldn’t count the times his friends had tried to talk to him after Lucien had left Autumn, after Cato and Owain had been killed. Eris hadn’t wanted to talk to them, had pushed them away when they tried.

Eris huffed a humourless laugh, “You don’t have to worry about me, I’m fine.”

“Evidently,” Lagos grabbed the bottle from Eris’s hand just as he’d been about to bring it to his lips, “Of course you’re fine, Mother forbid anyone worry about you.” He slammed the bottle onto the bar.

“Don’t start with this shit again,” Eris was tired, he’d had a long day, he didn’t want to listen to anything Lagos had to tell him — he’d heard it all before.

“This is an intervention,” Lagos waved his hand, “I’m intervening. I’m not going to sit here and watch you drink, following your father’s orders as you try to win a throne you’ve never wanted.”

Eris wiped at the blood on his face again. “Who says I don’t want it?”

“You!” Lagos raised his voice a bit, “You’ve been saying it since I’ve known you!”

“Well, I changed my mind,” Eris ran a hand through his hair, he’d given this issue much thought lately.

“I’m going to steal my father’s crown and I’m going to rule Autumn.” Beron wasn’t good for this court, he’d always been too selfish, too power-hungry, too cruel. Maddox wouldn’t be a good High Lord, he was better off leading the Royal Guard. Priam was just as likely to abandon Autumn as he was to rule it well. And Rufus didn’t want the throne, even if Eris thought he would be the best one on it.

Lagos sounded frustrated as he said, “And how do you plan on doing that?”

Eris flashed his friend a smile, “Not sure yet, but I’m a patient male, Lagos. I’ll wait another 300 years for that crown if I have to.” Eris had never been humble, it was easy for him to see that he was the only reasonable option, the only one of his brothers who could be a decent High Lord after he got rid of Beron.

Lagos sighed, reaching out with a hand, “Eris—”

Eris growled when Lagos placed that hand on his arm, “Don’t touch me.”

“I’m taking you home,” Lagos snapped, no longer touching him though, “Obviously, we need to talk. Unless you’d like to fight this out, just like we used to.”

“Tempting,” Eris lifted his chin, “But I just spent a good hour fighting out my anger.” That, and Eris had never beaten Lagos in a fight, and they’d fought countless times in the years they’d known each other.

“Fine, let’s just,” he held his hand out to Eris, an offering, “Let’s go home.”

There was a time where Eris would have taken his friend’s hand without question. Lagos, who had stayed by his side for nearly three centuries and was in danger because of it. Eris looked at Lagos and saw a brother, just another brother he could disappoint, another brother he could fail. Eris pushed his stool away from the bar, “You’ll have to drag me there,” he declared as he stood up.

Lagos rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, “Don’t fucking test me, Eris, I’ll do it.”

Eris waved a hand dismissively, “Go ahead.”

Eris hadn’t truly believed Lagos would do it, but when he fell to the ground, the back of his head smacking against the hardwood floor of the tavern, he guessed he’d been wrong about how much shit Lagos was willing to take from him before he snapped.

“What the fuck?” Eris snarled, kicking out one of his long legs.

“You fucking asked for it,” Lagos said through clenched teeth, his arms around Eris’s torso as a bright light flared around them.

Eris vaguely realized that Lagos had winnowed them somewhere, most likely to the yard outside his cottage.

Eris and Lagos tumbled and rolled in the long grass, fists flying. They were both punching and hitting and swearing, Eris was keeping a tight leash on his flames the whole time, still self aware enough to prevent burning one of his best friends. Eris heard Micah, would have recognized his voice anywhere, as he called out to them.

“Following orders blindly,” Lagos growled as he tried to pin Eris underneath him, “Being horrible to Rufus, ignoring your mother.” They tumbled a little more in the grass, “You’re better than this.”

Eris pushed Lagos roughly with one of his hands, “Am I?” Eris didn’t really think he was, not after all the things he’d done. Eris wasn’t a good male, that much he was certain of.

Before Lagos could respond, he was wrenched off Eris by a livid Widge. “I can’t believe you would fucking do that.”

Eris sat up, raking a hand through his now messy hair. He couldn’t remember the last time Widge had been angry, and almost felt bad for having played a part in it. Micah got down on his knees beside him, placed a hand on his shoulder, it took all of Eris’s strength not to shrug him off.

“You can’t seriously be angry at me,” Lagos growled, staring up at Widge, incredulous. “Our friend just killed over twenty people — decent, hopeful, hard-working people — because they wanted to overthrow the worst High Lord in Prythian, and you’re angry at me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Widge started, “But I think we’re all old enough to use our words instead of our fists.”

Micah shook his head, looking at Lagos with furrowed brows, “This isn’t what I had in mind when I said we needed to work things out.” Eris stiffened at the thought that his friends had been discussing him when he wasn’t there, but Micah continued speaking, anger clear in his tone. “I’m certain this was uncalled for, Lagos.”

Lagos threw his hands in the air, “You’re on his side?” Lagos seemed more surprised than hurt, “Why are you on his side, Micah?”

Micah sighed, his other hand coming up to rest on Eris’s arm. “Because he’s upset.”

“I’m not upset, why would I be upset?” They all seemed content to ignore Eris as they continued talking.

Lagos snorted, “Right, that’s the reason.”

Micah flushed, opening his mouth to respond, but Widge spoke first. “I think everyone needs to just take a breath,” he helped Lagos to his feet.

“You can take a breath, I’m not done speaking,” Lagos muttered.

Widge looked slightly panicked as he brushed some dirt off of the other male. “Enough, Lagos, just… just stop for a minute.”

Lagos ignored him, turned to face Eris, brown eyes glowing gold, “I always saw through your unbothered, arrogant, asshole act. Always. Tonight, I could not.” Lagos shook his head, “Keep the mask on long enough, Eris, and you forget what’s underneath.”

Eris held his oldest friend’s gaze, “There’s no mask.” Eris wasn’t some secret hero, he wasn’t some misunderstood male with good intentions, “I’m just my father’s son.”

Micah tightened his hold on Eris’s shoulder, “Lagos,” he said in the tone he usually reserved for ordering soldiers around, “Leave him alone.”

Lagos didn’t look like he wanted to leave Eris alone, he looked like he wanted to hit him.

Eris couldn’t blame him, but he felt oddly at peace knowing that he’d probably pushed Lagos too far. “I’m leaving,” Lagos muttered, “I’ll return when you snap out of whatever mood you’re currently in,” that statement directed at Eris. Eris wasn’t planning on snapping out of his mood anytime soon, but he watched as Lagos winnowed away without another word, jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

Just as Lagos left, Micah placed gentle fingers on Eris’s chin, moving some of Eris’s hair to look at him closely. “You’re bleeding.” He didn’t need to ask the question he so clearly wanted to, Eris knew what he wanted.

“One of the faeries I killed tonight threw a bottle at me,” Eris mumbled as Micah tilted his head to the side, trying to get a better look, “She had a very good arm.”

“It’s very unlike you to follow such orders,” Micah’s emerald eyes looked troubled.

Micah wasn’t wrong, Eris had gotten very good at talking his way out of orders he didn’t like. Eris felt blood trickle down the side of his face, and Micah leaned closer to him, pressed the clean sleeve of his shirt against Eris’s brow.

“My father doesn’t trust me.”

“Do you want him to?” Micah stopped pressing his sleeve against Eris’s face, his hand replacing the fabric as he held onto Eris, his thumb resting gently on Eris’s cheekbone.

“I need him to.” Eris hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten to Micah.

“What is the cost?” Eris shuddered when Micah’s thumb slowly stroked his cheekbone, “What will it cost you?”

Eris knew the cost. He hadn’t been determined enough, hadn’t been focused enough on becoming High Lord all these years. He’d liked spending time with his friends, liked spending time with Rufus and Lucien. He’d liked trying to charm pretty females and handsome males, liked getting wasted on faerie wine and pixie.

He needed his father to trust him — that was the first step in taking his crown — and that meant Eris needed to get his hands dirty, needed to follow those orders with a smile on his face. Eris knew what it would cost — his friends, his brothers, his mother — and he was prepared to pay the price. Eris looked into Micah’s clear green eyes as he answered, “Everything that matters.” Micah bit the inside of his bottom lip, nodding once.

Eris froze when Micah inched closer to him, their noses almost touching, eyes half-lidded. “Eris, please—”

Eris didn’t really want to hear what Micah had to say, so he simply decided to close the distance between them. Eris tilted his head, mouth slanting across Micah’s, eyes fluttering shut when he didn’t pull away.

Micah’s lips were soft against Eris’s, the hand cupping Eris’s face was firm as he pulled Eris closer in a breathless gasp. Eris’s tongue brushed against Micah’s, and Eris felt some of the control on his magic slip.

Eris lifted his hand, tangling his fingers in Micah’s light brown hair, everything about the other male familiar. He decided that this would be the last time, his other hand fisted in the blades of grass by Micah’s hand.

With one final tender kiss on Micah’s lips, Eris pulled back, resting his forehead against Micah’s, eyes closed. “I need to sit on that throne,” Eris bit the inside of his cheek, tasting blood. He loosened his hold on Micah’s hair, “Maybe then I can fix this court.”

Micah pulled back, moved his hand so that it rested against Eris’s neck. “You do what you have to, Eris, but I don’t — I know I am selfish for it, but… I don’t think I can sit back and watch you.”

Eris’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Micah’s wavering voice. Micah wasn’t selfish, he was anything but selfish. Eris hadn’t been expecting Micah to be so upset, his cheeks were flushed, tears streaming down his face. Eris had to remind himself that this was for the best, that if he stayed away it would keep him safe.

“Don’t waste your tears on me, Micah,” Eris murmured. He would have kissed them away if he didn’t think it would make things infinitely more difficult.

Micah took a deep breath, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, “I need to go.” Eris felt the sudden urge to beg him not to. Instead, he just sat frozen as Micah stood to leave.

Eris stared at Micah’s feet as he walked away. He vaguely heard Widge trying to stop him, had nearly forgotten that Widge was still there. He ripped at a patch of grass, loosing a long breath.

Eris was still staring after Micah when Widge dropped down to sit beside him. “They’ll be back.”

“I don’t want them to come back,” Eris snarled, “I want to get rid of you, too.”

“I don’t think it matters what you want,” Widge ran a hand through his copper hair, “I mean, obviously it does,” he cringed. “What you want matters, it should always matter, it’s just that I think you’re lying.”

Eris wondered if it was possible to both want them to come back and want them to stay as far away from him as possible. “You’re not leaving?” Eris asked, turning to face Widge.

Widge flashed Eris a small smile, knocking his shoulder into Eris’s. “Not a chance.”

“I’m going to lean on you, then,” Eris muttered.

Widge shifted closer to him, “You can lean on me whenever you like.”

Eris crossed his arms, kicked his legs out in front of him, and slumped against Widge’s much smaller frame. “Everything I touch, I turn to ash.”

Eris felt Widge shake his head, “That’s not true.”

“It is, though,” Eris sighed, “Over two centuries of friendship just went up in flames.” Which Eris had to keep reminding himself was what he had wanted.

“They’re just worried,” Widge said, sounding very sure, “They’re also probably too proud to admit that they’re also a little afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Eris wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know the answer. The last thing he wanted was for Widge to tell him that they were all afraid of him.

“Afraid of losing you.”

Eris stared at his boots, the brown leather stained with blood. “Oh,” he said, feeling rather stupid for not having anything better to say.

“And I think you should know, Eris,” Widge continued, “That you’re nothing like your father.”

Eris didn't think that was true, but he was glad someone thought so all the same.

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ephyla · 4 years ago

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Midsummer Relaxation

Midsummer was approaching and the people of New Berk have been scrambling all over, preparing for the celebration. The sun barely sets anymore, and everyone was absolutely exhausted. Hiccup was supposed to overview the entire preparation of the feast but all he desired was a break. Thank the Gods for marrying such a wonderful woman.

oOo

Midsummer was approaching and the people of New Berk have been scrambling all over the village for days, preparing for the celebration. The sun barely set anymore, and everyone was absolutely exhausted, prone to often make mistakes that drove the Chief of New Berk wild. Hiccup was supposed to overview the entire preparation of the feast, but also had to settle petty quarrels between sleep-deprived Vikings; avoiding sharp flying objects on the occasion. It was the perfect recipe for chaos and he was worried that they will not be ready on time. If one thing went according to plan, three more things would set them back again. Food went missing, tables were broken, celebrative outfits were set on fire. All he wanted to do relax, he felt like he’s been awake for seven days straight and his mind isn’t cooperating anymore, just begging to shut down for a whole month. By now, he was just acting like a wandering draugr. He really wondered how his father managed to handle this without breaking a sweat and dearly wished he was by his side, guiding him.

His wife was by his side the entire time, shouldering half of the responsibilities. Even she, despite being quite tired as well (he swore he saw her take a power nap on top of a ladder last time), handled it better than himself. She seemed to be fuelled by a spark of positive energy. He remembered a few years back when the twins explained the change in their friends’ attitude towards the Midnight Sun, since then, Astrid found a dark place to sleep so she doesn’t get any more of those embarrassing memories again. What kind of Hofferson would ever call a Jorgenson handsome? Of course, the sun still had its effects on her, but her overzealous demeanour toned down to a bearable extent. While it did seem a bit overwhelming sometimes, it kept Hiccup’s spirits up. It was their first Midsummer as a wedded couple and he really didn’t want to mess this up.

Today, however, she had suddenly requested to immediately go home after being done with only half of her duties done. For someone who prides herself on being so effective and getting the work done, it was very unusual of her to abandon her responsibilities. This worried Hiccup, so he didn’t object and watched her dash towards their house. He didn’t know how much time passed, the sun remained in its usual elevated position, but he felt like tonight will be a four blocks of ice kind of night. He felt like there was absolutely no progress made today despite getting up in the early hours. He couldn’t even track the time since the sun was barely moving. Some muttonhead decided it was a smart idea to open Sven’s sheeps’ pen and let the uncoordinated Vikings chase them like toddlers who could barely walk yet. If he could get his hands on that person, he swore he was going to get an earful that even his late father, Stoick, would be impressed by. He hoped that Astrid got enough rest so she can go back to being her feisty, short-tempered self. He would greatly benefit from that. The Berkians, despite being completely out of control, would never cross with a hot-blooded, axe-wielding Valkyrie and would sober up at the speed of light.

Speaking of his beloved blonde wife, he saw her approach him with a smile on her face. Even though he was absolutely exhausted, he smiled back, her presence bringing him a sense of comfort. He extended his hand to her and she took it, bringing her closer to him, enlacing her waist, and pressing small kisses on her neck. She giggled in a very un-Astridlike way.

“Well, I’m not one to object to this kind of greeting, but we’re in the middle of town and people are looking.” Astrid said as she observed around her. Gobber was covering a kid’s eyes. Some villagers had a dumbfounded expression on their faces, rarely seeing Hiccup initiating such an intimate gesture; apart from the occasional lip or forehead kiss. Others just cheered or ignored them. Hiccup let out a small whine and rested his head on her shoulder, keeping his arms wrapped around her form.

“I missed you.” He whimpered.

“I wasn’t gone for that long, babe.” She replied as she stroked his hair. Her poor husband has the bad habit of overworking himself, and the fact that no one can distinguish between day and night definitely didn’t help. “Come home with me, I have something to show you.”

“I’m sorry Milady, I still have work to do, we’re behind schedule and Midsummer is in a week.” His reply a bit muffled in her shoulder.

“Go and have yer fun, lad. You’ve worked more than anyone here and deserve some respite. And besides, how can ye refuse yer wife’s invitation?” The young couple turned their heads to look at Gobber approaching them. “Ah, I remember when Stoick was acting just like ye, never knowing when to stop. It took Valka threatening not to share their marital bed anymore, snapped ‘im right out of it, and practically dragged ‘im home. The next morning they kept yawning all over the place, creating a chain of never-ending yawns. Now that I think about it, that’s probably how ye were concei-“

“-OKAY! That’s enough Gobber. I got your point.” Hiccup exclaimed in horror. While he was used to hanging around people that did not have a filter, Gobber was probably the one he feared the most. Since his best friend’s demise, the blacksmith has been recounting stories of him. Some were great to listen to, remembering the bravery and leadership of Stoick the Vast; but some were just better to keep to oneself. With the approach of the Midnight Sun’s peak, Gobber has gotten worse and Hiccup would’ve much preferred wearing the earbuds he made once during his encounter with the Death Song, just to save himself of the embarrassing images his mentor so crassly described to him.

Astrid looked at Gobber with a mixture of disgust and amusement, before deciding to grab her stunned husband’s arm and pulling him towards their house, away from the growing crowd of curious Vikings. She hoped her parents didn’t witness this whole ordeal.

“Astrid, I don’t think I have the energy to do what Gobber obnoxiously suggested, maybe-“ Hiccup said as he was being pulled by his wife.

“-Hush you. That’s not what I had in mind when I came to get you.” She cut him off, continuing to pull him towards their house. She let go of his arm once they crossed their threshold’s doorframe and closed the door, locked it just in case those nosy Vikings decided to rudely barge in.

After being exposed to the sunlight for so long, Hiccup’s eyes had to adjust to the darkness of the room, illuminated by a couple of candles. He could smell a pleasant fragrant scent in the room and spotted their bathtub in front of the lit fireplace; the rugs been removed. Astrid led him to the bathtub and sat him down on the chair that was deliberately placed right next to it. She saw his questioning gaze.

“Gobber was right about you working harder than anyone here in this village. You deserve to relax a bit, take some time off.”

“You know I can’t afford to relax, now. Not when Midsommer is so close. Those sleep-deprived Vikings aren’t going to lead themselves, they can barely listen to me when I’m there. I’ll rest once we’re done.” He said, preparing to stand up again. Astrid pushed him down.

“I’ve asked your mom to take your place for a bit. She’s surprisingly unaffected by the sun’s constant presence. And she agreed that you needed a day off. Everyone could see how tired you are.” Astrid started unbuttoning his (GUARD STUFF). “And I want to take care of my husband. Will you let me?” Hiccup gulped, his words not coming out. He simply nodded. It’s been a while since she saw him being bashful around her. She gratefully smiled at him and pecked him on the lips.

She proceeded to fully undress him, and took off his prosthetic, placing it within reach of the chair. Gone were the days Hiccup felt ashamed of showing his scar. Astrid made sure to show him how much he meant to her, leg or no leg. When he was coming home after a rough day of chiefing, she would give him his ice blocks and tell him to take care of his migraines while she took care of his leg, massaging it. She would sometimes bring it to her lips and kiss it, showing her appreciation to him. He would always beam at her every time she did this. She frowned when she saw the current redness of his stump, also spotting a blister forming.

“Let me help you get in the tub. Just relax. I’ll massage your leg when I come back, I’m going to get some food from the Great Hall.” She said as she rose from her kneeling position. Her cooking did improve over time thanks to Hiccup and Gobber, but she wanted his day off to be perfect, which wasn’t the case for her cooking yet. She tried to make a nice intricate meal for the two of them, which is why she left so early. However, her attempts were all in vain as the food always ended up burning. In the end, she had to admit defeat.

Hiccup grabbed her wrist. “Join me?”

Astrid contemplated his words for a few seconds before nodding. She can grab dinner later. She wrapped her husband’s arm around her shoulder and helped him get into the tub. The water wasn’t too warm since they were in the hottest month of Berk, but it wasn’t cold to the point he would start shivering after being submerged for a couple of minutes.

Hiccup looked over at his wife undress. He had seen her in this state countless times, even before they were married; but it always felt like the first time. He was the only Viking that she allowed to see her like this, with her guard down. Her body wasn’t unscathed. It was filled with scars and burns, proving that this woman was a warrior that has been through so many battles and came out victorious every time. She wouldn’t hesitate to swing an axe to a skull if someone ever looked at her funny. So, this woman allowing him to witness her in her most vulnerable state was an absolute honour to him, that he would never take for granted. Her scars were a part of her and accentuated her beauty and he made sure to always remind her of it.

“Allow me.” He said as he extended a hand towards her. She knew what he wanted and turned her back to him. He rose, sat on the edge of the tub and pulled the leather band that kept her braid in place off. He slowly undid his wife’s braid, letting her gold strands cascade down to her lower back. He then gathered her hair in his hand and swept it over her shoulder, exposing her freckled neck and scarred back. He wrapped his arms around her waist and placed a loving kiss on the largest scar she had. A scar trailed from her right shoulder to the left side of her hip. She was proud of that scar as it was a reminder of her saving his life from an assassination attempt. During the yearly Thing meeting between multiple tribes, when the dragons and some Viking tribes were still cohabiting together, a spy has been placed within them, trying to poison the Dragon-loving Chiefs. Astrid and Heather caught on pretty quickly and managed to expose the spy in front of all the Chiefs. Being surrounded, no one expected the spy to suddenly lunge himself at Hiccup with his sword. Astrid, being the closest to him and desperate to keep him unharmed, had used her back as a shield. The wound hurt like Hel but it was worth it. She was so scared to have failed him as his then-General, she didn’t care that she put her life on the line to save his. A Chief protects his own, but it’s also the General’s job to protect the people AND the Chief. Hiccup wouldn’t let her leave his sight for weeks after that, eternally grateful and forever scared he was going to lose her that day.

“You’re absolutely beautiful.” He told her. His eyes were filled with wonder to this Valkyrie in front of him. She smiled gratefully at him and climbed in the bathtub, sitting opposite of him.

She took his stump in her hands and started to delicately massage it, coaxing a few moans of relief out of him. Her nimble fingers were definitely a gift from the Gods. She managed to soothe the knots in his leg with great accuracy. All day, he had to focus on the utter chaos happening in the village that he didn’t have the time to focus on himself and his discomfort, ignoring the pains coming from his leg begging him to take the weight off of it. She carefully avoided the small blister forming near the bottom of the stump.

“Mmmh, this feels so good.” Hiccup sighed with pleasure as he closed his eye, focussing on the sensation.

“You’ve been standing for too long, babe. I know the Midsummer celebration is stressing you out, but you’ve got to start listening to your body when it tells you to rest.” He opened his eyes, looking at her hands doing their wonders underwater.

“I know, I know. But it’s a bit hard to do that when we keep progressing backward each day. I swear to Odin, every time I look away, someone messes up something, I just can’t do it.” Astrid’s hand rose to swipe Hiccup’s bangs back, revealing his beautiful green eyes. Since the start of the preparations a few weeks ago, he didn’t have the time to let her cut his hair.

“You can’t do it on your own. Remember, you have me. You have your mom, Gobber, Eret and the gang. We’re all here to help you. You just have to accept the help instead of shouldering most of the responsibilities. We’re willing to take some of the load off you.” She said as she grazed her thumb over his dark eye bags. “I can assure you that not only the work will get done much faster, but you’ll be more productive with a rested body and a peaceful mind.” She kissed his forehead. Hiccup wrapped his arms around her, making her sit in his lap. He savoured the rare peaceful moment he had with his beloved wife. She had the gift of shutting all the voices tormenting his mind and the gentle touch to relax his body in the blink of an eye. She was everything to him. He could be the best version of himself when she’s with him and never took her for granted; not since the betrothal gift incident.

“Just don’t forget you’re still human, there’s so much your body can handle before it shuts down.” She added.

“Yeah, you’re right. I might have been pushing myself pretty hard.” Hiccup replied, raising his head to look at her. There was a warmness to her that he never thought she would ever have; especially directed towards him. He remembered her words of encouragement back on the clifftops, as he was losing hope. I am the person I am today because of you. Over the years, he saw how she started to warm up to him and the rest of the people. She had been trained for years to be this fearless, unemotional warrior. Back then, the fear of losing the people you love was at its peak, so she was quick to learn how to shut her feelings down and just train from dawn till dusk. Today, she was a softer and warmer person; which didn’t mean she was weaker by any means. But with the end of the Dragon War, she has found herself a partner that saw her as an equal. They both found themselves a new purpose in life and didn’t have to fear the threat of a dragon raid any longer, which allowed them to find happiness along the way. They were happy here.

Astrid got off his lap and reached for the soap that was earlier placed at a reachable distance. She looked back at him. “Soak.” And so, he plunged his head underwater before coming back up with his bangs fully covering his eyes. She stifled a laugh as did he. “I haven’t planned to cut your hair today, so I’ll do that next laugardagr, you think you can survive until then?” She started washing his hair with the soap in her hands.

“You made a whole schedule just to help me relax? A schedule? Did I mistakenly marry Fishlegs?” This earned him a pinch on his nipple. ��OW! You know they’re sensitive. I did not deserve that!” She laughed as she brought her hands back to massage his scalp. The nipple pinching forgotten, his eyes rolled back into his skull, fully appreciating the head massage. “Ooh yeah, that feels nice.” Astrid brought his bangs back down to cover his eyes and gathered the excess foam and piled it upon his head in the form two horns. She exploded in laughter at the ridiculous sight. “Wha- Astriiid!“

“You look like Snotlout’s pet yak! Oh Gods- I can’t!” She wheezed.

Hiccup was not impressed and got rid of the foam and swiped his bangs back, exposing his frown. His small smile betrayed him though. It was rare to see Astrid lose composure and in a burst of full-blown laughter. It made him break his frown and laugh with her.

“You, young lady, are in reeeally big trouble. Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Yakkity’s long lost brother?” She joked.

“Okay, that’s it, come here you!” He grabbed her by the waist and started poking her sides, knowing very well she was ticklish there. “I shall not tolerate this type of disrespect on my island.”

She tried to grab his arm, but this time he was prepared and pinned her arms by wrapping an arm around her and continuing tormenting her with the other. How she wished they were fifteen years old again. “N-No- St-Stop!”

“Then say, ‘My husband is the strongest and most handsome Viking in all of Midgard’. Say it.”

“Hahaha, N-not on yo-your life!” Having minimal movement of her arms, Astrid tried to reach downwards instead of fighting the death grip he had around her. She pinched the inside of his thigh, so very close to his precious jewels, making him jump. “Astrid! No!” He stopped tickling her but kept his arm around her.

“I will pinch higher if you don’t let me go, babe.” She tried to catch her breath from all the tickling.

“You’re awful, absolutely awful.” He whined as he let her go.

“You’re lucky this is your relaxation time.” She said, a small glint in her eyes.

“Oh yeah, what kind of torment would you inflict on your poor one-legged husband?” He challenged.

“Something that would require you to use your cane for the next day or so.” She fired back; a small, dangerous smile etched on her face. Hiccup’s eyes widened and he gulped. “But we’re both tired and I did promise to take care of my sweet husband, haven’t I? So, behave.” She flicked his exposed forehead.

“Ow. How did I get myself into this mess?” He rubbed the sore spot.

“You kidnapped me and threw me on top of a tree.” She replied with a straight face.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, you’ve had soap in your hair for long enough, rinse.” She ordered. He dived in again, washing off the soap.

“Can I wash your hair?” He asked.

“But it’s your time off.”

“Yeah, but it’s yours too. You worked just as hard. You deserve to be taken care of too.” He replied.

“You worked harder.” He rolled his eyes.

“Astrid, this isn’t a competition. I want to take care of my wife. Will you let me?” He grabbed her hand and slowly spun her around in the narrow tub and made her sit between his legs.

“You’re always looking for an excuse to touch my hair.” She jokingly said. There was an element of truth though. He loved touching her hair, combing his fingers through her long strands. Since they have gotten married, he insisted on combing and braiding her hair in the morning. There was just something intimate and therapeutic about touching her hair. She was protective over it, never letting anyone but him touch it. The first time she let down her hair for him was during the incident that left her temporarily blind. She was not able to see how much soot covered her precious hair, so she entrusted it in his care. He remembers his heart beating so fast that he thought it was going to burst from his chest. He felt honoured, and has been craving to touch her beautiful golden locks ever since.

Astrid on the other hand, hated when people touched her hair. It was her pride and joy (after Stormfly and her axe). As a child, every time her mom would braid her hair, she would always pull too hard, leaving her sore. The twins were more chaotic when they were kids. They would get away with anything because kids will be kids. As a prank, they decided it would be funny to set her hair on fire, forcing her to cut it above her shoulders. That day, she saw red and very nearly beat them to death. They were all severely punished for it, but no one has ever attempted to touch her hair ever again. He remembered that day very well, it was probably the first time he saw her cry. That’s when he learned how attached she was to her hair. The way she preened on it every night since they became a couple on the Edge reminded him so much of Stormfly. Her dragon always made sure there was not a single hair out of place after a flight. It amused him how she trusted a dragon more than Vikings to manage her hair. Stormfly had the gentle touch that Astrid craved someone to have. She always wanted her rider to look the best.

“Well?” Astrid asked as she looked back. Hiccup’s thoughts were cut off.

“Oh...Uh yeah, my bad.” He started to massage her scalp as she did him.

“Okay, I’m done. You can rinse.” He said after working on her hair for the past couple of minutes.

She dipped her head underwater and got rid of the soap before emerging again.

“Thanks.” She turned her head and smiled at him.

“I should be thanking you; this whole ‘bath’ idea was yours. It felt nice.” He kissed her exposed shoulder as he embraced her.

“Well, don’t thank me yet. We’re not done.” She patted his hand.

“Not done?”

“What, did you really think that was it? Come on, let’s get out before our skin shrivels up like a prune.” She got out of his arms, turned around, and grabbed him. She helped him up and guided him to the chair, passed him a towel, and proceeded to dry themselves before taking his prosthetic and putting it back on his stump. She started to put her clothes on, so Hiccup followed suit until she stopped him.

“Nuh-uh, just wear a towel, I highly doubt you want your clothes to be stained with oil.”

“What?”

“A massage, Hiccup. I’m going to give you a massage. Gods, even a blind man would know how tense you are just by standing near you.” She answered.

“Why are you getting dressed then? Don’t I get to give you one?”

“Next laugardagr, after I trim that overgrown mop of hair of yours. Gods have mercy on my shears.”

“S-Shears?! And by the way, my hair isn’t that bad!” Hiccup dramatically exclaimed. Astrid rolled her eyes. “I’ve never seen a man with that much hair on their head, I swear if we shave everything off, we’ll have enough to make a scarf. No need for sheep anymore.”

“First, I’m a yak, now I’m a sheep? Is that how you see me, Astrid? Nothing more than livestock? How you wound me.” He brought a hand up to his heart. Astrid let out a cackle.

“You are such a drama queen. Come on, get up your highness, there’s fresh meat to be tenderized before I chop it off and feed it to the village.” She helped him up and headed towards their bedroom.

“Please Astrid, can you be any more creepy?” It was his turn to roll his eyes.

They finally reached their room. The shutters were sealed shut, preventing most of the light to penetrate the room. Candles were illuminated, giving off the same soothing atmosphere as downstairs, cutting them off from the agitated outside world. The bed was covered by a large towel, probably to avoid the oil soak into their sheets. Astrid made her husband lie down on his stomach, removed his prosthetic again, and sat on his butt. She started tracing his back muscles with feathery fingers which made him shivers. While Hiccup was still a lean man, he definitely wasn’t the same fifteen-year-old, shy boy that she found herself falling in love with. He quickly gained muscle mass thanks to dragon-riding and her extensive sword fighting lessons. Just like all the other riders, he started to lose some after the dragons’ departure a year ago. He remained, in her eyes, the most beautiful man ever.

She caressed his back and leaned forward, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades, making him sigh lovingly. He was clearly enjoying her pampering and she wasn’t about to stop any time soon. She reached for the small vial that was ready to be used from their bedside table and poured the contents in her hands and rubbed them together to heat it up a bit. Astrid proceeded to rub his shoulders first, trying to undo that visible tension. She added her bodyweight as she tried to loosen those knots that caused his painful backaches.

“Mmh, yeah that’s the spot.” Hiccup moaned as she rubbed a specific sore area. She continued her ministrations for a bit and slowly moved onto his lower once she was satisfied with how loose and relaxed his shoulders became.

“How are you feeling?” She asked while kneading his legs.

“Like a newborn yak.” He replied, his voice muffled by the pillows. She sniggered, happy that he’s enjoying this so much.

Hiccup can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed. He truly thought he was going to melt into a puddle under her magic hands. He knew he didn’t know when to stop working. His muscles could be aching and his bones could be breaking, but he never stops until someone does or until he collapses. He had big shoes to fill and couldn’t bear to let his village down. Not when his father did a tremendous job at leading. Once Stoick finally admitted to his blindness, he saw so much growth and potential in his son, and Hiccup did his best to uphold what his father saw in him. While Stoick had to lead alone for years, Hiccup couldn’t be any more grateful to have an amazing partner by his side, supporting him. He knew he wouldn’t remain sane had he lost her like his father lost his wife. He was no idiot. He saw how he struggled when his soulmate was believed to be dead and couldn’t possibly see a future without Astrid. She was everything to him and more. The entire village knew that. They weren’t being led by the Chief and the Chief’s wife. They were Chief and Chieftess. Equals. One couldn’t function without the other. Some would say that they’re too dependent on each other and would lead the tribe to their downfall. But the Berkians knew better. Together, they were stronger than anyone.

“Turn around.” She ordered. And he complied. She sat back on his lap and leaned down to kiss him. He quickly wrapped his arm around her and savoured their kiss. They should do this more often. He missed having some quality time with just her.

Just as his hands started traveling a bit lower, a large grumbling sound resonated across the room. They separated and looked at each other. The couple started laughing.

“Well, someone is hungry. When was the last time you ate?” Astrid asked.

“Honestly, I can’t remember.” He sheepishly replied. She sighed. “Go sit in front of the hearth and let your hair dry. I’ll go grab some food from the Great Hall, I’ll be back soon.” She passed him his prosthetic and headed downstairs, leaving their household on the quest for food.

He doesn’t know how long he had been staring at the flames when she came back, a basket in hand. She approached him and sat on the floor beside him, handing him the food.

“Thank you, Milady.” He smiled at her.

“Sorry about not having any meals prepared at home.” She timidly said, looking down at her bowl of stew. “I tried to cook something from my mom’s recipes but my cooking skills are still pretty subpar. No matter how hard I tried, it just wasn’t perfect.”

He recognized those words. It just wasn’t perfect. That’s why it took them so long to become a couple, to begin with. He knew he was romantic when it comes to being in a relationship. Even before he set his eyes on anyone, he already thought of perfect scenarios with his soulmate. All the gestures and gifts; anything to quench this loneliness he felt as a young boy. He wanted his partner to feel loved. That’s why the medallion incident hit him hard. Since when did he start neglecting Astrid, causing her to feel that exact same loneliness he once felt? He never thought she was a romantic, being a hardcore shieldmaiden most of her life. But he learned that she also longed for love, she was just better at hiding it. At that time, he was still self-conscious. He has never heard her telling him that she loved him, but hearing her share her insecurities, he realized that she has. So many times, through a variation of loving gestures that she reserved for him and only him. He felt guilty for being so blind, which is why he made up for it. She deserved the best. She deserved perfect.

“Hey.” He scooted closer to her, their shoulders bumping. “This seems pretty perfect to me.” She looked at him with wide eyes. “You have no idea how eternally grateful I am to have you. This whole thing you’ve prepared for me is just perfect. I love it. I love you. So much. Whether you managed to cook an intricate meal or just brought food back from the Great Hall wouldn’t have changed anything. You did this for me, and it made me so happy. And I get to spend some time with you. I couldn’t ask for more, Astrid. Thank you.” He tenderly kissed her lips.

“I’m glad.” She paused. “And relieved.” She confessed, a smile on her lips.

They happily ate in silence, occasionally striking a conversation or just randomly stole a kiss from each other; just enjoying each other’s presence.

Their empty bowls were cast aside as they cuddled in front of the fire; savouring this rare moment of peace and quiet. Hiccup ran his fingers through her now dry hair.

“Will you let me braid your hair?” She looked at him for a few seconds before nodding and turning her back to him. He delicately combed through her silky golden tresses with his fingers, undoing the small knots and separated her hair into three parts. He expertly twisted the locks in a loose braid. Usually, Astrid wouldn’t braid her hair when going to bed as it provided a thin layer of heat for her neck. Winter in New Berk was just as merciless as Old Berk, but right now, they were approaching the hottest days of the year. While the air was still cool when evening came, she didn’t need that much coverage as the fire heated the room to a perfect temperature.

Astrid passed the leather band that was hanging on her wrist to her husband as he finished tending her hair. He attached it and swept her hair over her shoulder. Placing a light peck on the nape. She shivered at the contact and fell back, trusting Hiccup to catch her, which he did. He pressed his lips on her now accessible forehead. She laid in his arms for a while, just relishing the feeling of having his arms around her and the small, tickling kisses all across her face.

“Is this what you’ve been up to the whole time when you said you wanted to go home?” He asked.

“The failed cooking took most of my time.” She lamented.

“Did you have time to rest?” Astrid looked away. She knew she needed extra time to do the cooking, but she didn’t expect to fail that hard. In the end, it took much more time than she expected. Not that she felt like she needed a break, her husband needed it more than she did. But she was hoping to have more quality time with him. Unfortunately, after the fourth try, she decided to throw the towel.

“I’ll rest when you do.” Just as she said that the blonde Viking let out a yawn.

“Well, someone is getting tired.” Hiccup teased.

“I’ve been tired since our beloved Goddess Sol decided to show off all her glory even more so than usual.” Hiccup fought back a yawn that didn’t go unnoticed by his wife. “Seems like I’m not the only one that’s tired. Come on babe, let’s get you to bed.” She freed herself from his embrace and got up, lending a hand to help her husband up too. They headed upstairs, leaving the dirty dishes for tomorrow.

Once in their bedroom again, they undressed and put on their thin nightwear, hoping to finally get a comfortable night of sleep. They got in bed and Hiccup spooned her, letting her get comfortable in his arms. They sighed in content.

“Astrid?” He hesitantly called out, hoping she didn’t already fall asleep.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“You know you don’t need to thank me”

“I know, but you always seem to know what I need before I even do. So, I want to thank you. I really appreciate it. I love you, Milady.” He kissed the back of her head.

She squeezed his hand that was resting around her waist. “I love you too.” She sleepily answered.

He tightened his arms around her as he let sleep consume him.

Gods, how he loved that woman.

oOo

So this one-shot was written while I was writing another Hiccstrid story. I just needed a break since I was having a writer's block and I desperately needed some heartwarming fluff because the other one is heavy, at least for me it is. This one-shot could possibly have a potential smut scene one day, I just have no idea how to write those yet.

The other story will be posted soon, depending on how inspired I am. It's either going to be a long one-shot or a short chaptered fiction. To this day, I have written around 11K words, and it could possibly reach 20K. All I'm going to reveal for now is that Astrid is going to have a bad time. Hopefully you guys will be interested.

Also, would anyone be interested in a separate one-shot on how Astrid got that scar? I don't know why, I love Astrid so much that I need to read/write Astrid!Whump fics.

#hiccstrid fanfiction #fanfic #hiccstrid #married life #Astrid Hofferson #Hiccup Haddock #httyd #httyd 3

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jamestrmtx · 4 years ago

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Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Three | sans. (Part 3 of 3 | His POV)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

As if being blessed by Lady Luck herself, the owner of the establishment calls for Jerry to tend to unloading inventory, forcing him to end his glare on Sans and move his attention elsewhere. His internal conflict manifests itself through physical means, as he stays frozen in place to settle between keeping his job and minding his business with the monster. With another call from his boss, louder and firmer this time in comparison to the friendly reminder from earlier, he clenches his jaw and loosens it up with a scoff. "You're damn lucky the place's packed," he says, looking back towards Sans again. He takes a stray receipt from the counter, takes a pen, and scribbles something on it, handing it over to the monster when he's done. "Take this, and stay the hell away from my family."

"So like you're doing?" Sans counters, snickering.

"Screw off."

The man leaves him be with those last two words and another worker takes his place behind the register, looking fatigued from presumably having to deal with all the work at the back by herself. The expression on her face says it all: she overheard only some parts of the conversation, and was either curious to know more about it or misinterpreting the situation altogether, though she doesn't mention a word about it. Rather, she picks herself up and greets him with a smile. "Good afternoon, sir. For here, or to-go?"

That simple question settles a puzzle in Sans's mind; given he barely knew the human waiting for him at the table, he couldn't make any rash decisions, so he considers all the options through and through. He could make an easy escape from meeting with Jerry again simply by choosing to-go, yet he still wanted to talk with (Y/N) about the subject of Frisk and the Underground. Not only that, but ordering to-go without informing them about it wasn't something normal for how much they knew each other; rather, it would seem rude to decide without giving the human a chance to speak their thoughts on the subject. And if he invited them to eat their orders out elsewhere, it would look wrong; either like he really did mean his vaguely flirty texts, or that he didn't feel comfortable enough with them around.

"Sir?"

"To-go, please," he blurts out, it being the first thing on his mind.

The monster tells her both orders and is then asked to wait. He does so by walking off back to the table, where Frisk's parent still waits at, either completely oblivious of what went on at the register, or masking it based on their calm look and nonchalant sitting position. Their expression takes a turn when they meet with his irises, and they speak up when he's finally close enough for them to make their words hushed. "That was my ex-husband, wasn't it?" they ask, smile strained and brows furrowed. "Could we, uh… take our orders-"

"To-go?" he intervenes, chuckling.

Their smile loses some of its tension, and they let out a laugh. "How did you know?"

He sits with them at the chair across from theirs, nudging himself to an angle where he shields them from the ordering counter. "Between you saying he stopped visiting and that he didn't show up when Frisk went missing, I'd say you're not exactly head over heels for 'im anymore."

"Far from it," they reply, sighing. "It's just plain ridiculous for him to be so worked up about this now. He had his time ages ago." They rock their fingers against the table's surface and frown, looking deep in thought. "What did he say, anyway? ...I tried not to look, but I still saw when he got all angry at you."

"It's related to what I want to talk to you about. Though I'm not sure how he got that info so fast."

Their eyes spark and widen, the hand on the table clenching the edge in expectancy. "So he already knows all about it?"

"Dunno if all, but it looks like he's already dug a lil' bit into my past."

A buzz from the human's phone brings a halt to the conversation. He looks to where the sound comes from before taking a look at their expression, clearly vexed by the name of the sender. Their hand trembles and he notices how they have to tighten their grip on the device to prevent its fall.

"Jerry?" he asks.

They nod. "Excuse me for a moment."

Sans nods back and observes as they stand up from their seat and walk off to a corner of the diner. The switch in the human's expression is almost immediate, changing from curiosity to shock the second they click on the message. The phone meets the floor and ends up making a noise far too loud for it to come out unscathed, results of a tiled floor and the device landing screen-first against it. Still, they don't seem to care over that particular matter and stare at the floor with those same, wide eyes, a look that's carried back to him.

"You…"

Their words come off in a hoarse whisper, and they have to scratch their throat to continue with, "Is this true? Y- You gave Frisk a death threat as a warning for… for what, exactly?" Their voice's louder now, surroundings seeming to blur into nothing given how little they care over being heard by those closer around. "They didn't hurt you, so why did you threaten to hurt them?" Their shocked expression changes to anger, a deep glare that refuses to falter even as they take a step closer, ignoring the phone laying on the floor. "And what did he mean when he said your job was to kill humans? What…. What did Asgore order you to do, and how come you're still allowed to run freely -- as you please? How much of this is true, and how much of this isn't?

They take a pause to pick up their phone, another buzz being heard from it. The screen's cracked from end to end, yet they don't seem to mind over that either and tear up when they read the latest message. "Is… Is that why Toriel had to leave out of the blue? Was she expecting something like this to happen to her, too?" The human's voice breaks, though they recover with another scratch of their throat. "Did she also hurt Frisk? How… How am I supposed to even be anywhere near you when you used to be a heartless man who followed ordered regardless of-"

"Please, ca-"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down."

They huff, regaining some of their composure through it. "You have the next few minutes to explain why the hell your job as a sentry involved killing people regardless of their actions."

"(L/N), please liste-"

"Tell me."

They cross their arms and keep their glare on him. The phone continues to buzz, but they ignore it, all of their attention now being focused on Sans. An excruciatingly long beat of silence passes before he finally relents with a huff. They sit down, and he sits across from them, gaze facing theirs again. "What specifically do ya wanna know about?"

"What your job as a sentry implied. The rest can wait depending on what terms we're left with after this."

"Alright." He tries to smile in hopes of making their anger soften, though it's a vain attempt; a bad one, more specifically, taking into account how much angrier they get. "But could you promise ya won't freak out?"

"I'm afraid I can't. It all depends, really. Being told you used to throw death threats at innocent people doesn't exactly make me trust you any more than what I did a few seconds ago."

"But-"

"Order 44!"

He lets out a breath and proceeds to stand up. "Talk to you inna second? We can go to the food court and find a place there to eat."

"...Sure," they reply, a smile finally managing to return. "And thanks for helping me back there. I don't think I'd be able to tolerate Jerry coming up to me now of all times."

"Anytime," he says, winking. It's then that he realizes what he's done, an action made purely out of custom, though thankfully, they only show shock at having their thanks accepted rather than shrugged off.

Hopefully, his conversation with them wouldn't turn out as bad as he anticipated it to.

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The time to confess over his own sins arrives when both the human and himself are finished eating. Only his drink's left resting on the table, theirs already long gone with how quick they downed it after the meal. Had their choice been alcohol, he would've imagined them tipsy, given they barely gave themselves much time to consume it or so much as enjoy its taste and temperature. (Y/N) begins by asking how much of what Jerry had texted was true and over what actions the skeleton took when meeting with Frisk at the Underground.

The first few questions are simple enough and pass as smooth as his choice of drink, up until they ask, "So what exactly are you guilty of? Frisk told me to be careful around you, but in a fun sort of sense. And… And not because of you being dangerous or ever causing them any harm."

He breathes in, feeling obliged to brace himself for what he's about to say.

"I'm… guilty of not helping them out as much as I should've," Sans says, setting his drink aside. He already feels a tightness in his chest, incrementing when he continues with, "And there was one point where I might've come off too strong… Where I quite frankly told them to watch their back around me, and that I'd be there to handle the situation if it ever got outta hand."

"What kind of situation?" (Y/N) asks, a change in tone already present.

"Hurting my kind." He sighs out a deep breath, letting himself find some sort of ease amongst the ache building up in his rib cage. It was too soon to be enemies with the human sitting across from him, and to be frank, he didn't even want to be on negative terms with them, either. He simply wanted to have another friend; another person he could look forward to spending his time with more often. "I... warned them about what would happen if they dared to do anything bad to other people, but in the least humane wording possible." He takes another sip from his drink, feeling his non-existent throat turn sore. "Frankly, and just like Jerry already told you: it's all true. I, well... I threatened Frisk with death, even though they hadn't harmed anyone during their journey down there."

"So it's all true? Even the part about your job being to basically hunt after humans, no matter what?" They stand up from their seat, hands slamming over the table on par with their shout. In contrast to the ire he anticipated from them, he sees the same shock from before in their eyes and an open mouth reveals their disbelief. "I… Y- You... You're not joking, aren't you?!"

Thankfully, they're both sitting at a table too far away for anyone around to take immediate notice of the human's reaction. That allows the monster to breathe out again and reply with, "It's the raw truth, cross my soul," he says, meeting with their eyes. "As a judge and main sentry for the Underground, I was meant to treat everyone equally, no matter their age, race, or any of that stuff. I judged based on actions; on the person's background and intentions. So when it was time for me to meet with a new person, I went all out, no matter the costs or repercussions of my actions, or the feelings I had about what I was about to do." Sans takes a long pause, needing some time to recollect himself. "To be brief, that was the job assigned to me, and one I was meant to fulfill no matter how that would affect my relationship with that new person I crossed paths with."

"Wh- Why?" they blurt, the anger he expected finally showing through. Still, they sit down, avoiding unwanted attention from other people. "Why did Asgore come up with that idea, a- and why did you go along with it? Why… Was there no other option? Or did neither of you two ever bother searching for one?" A wet gaze greets him when he makes eye contact with the human again, conflicting with their scowl and sharp, furrowed gaze. "Are all of you guys like this? H- How many of you are innocent, and how many of you hurt my child? Are Toriel and MK the only ones I can trust? Because if I'm going to follow along with what Frisk's told me so far, th- the only monsters that they've mentioned without any reluctance have been those two. They... They always freeze up every time I ask them about any other monster they made friends with." Their voice begins to shake and a few tears spill from their eyes. "I… I'm sorry if this seems like too much, b- But I need to know, Sans, I… I need to know who hurt them, and what I can do to protect them. I need to be strict, and I- I need to make up for those two months I wasn't able to be there for them."

Sans.

The human has been calling him 'mister Serif' for a good while now.

Out of all the possible ways and times they could've said his actual, first name, and it had to be during a moment of anger and confusion. He tries not to acknowledge just how bitter and dry his name had come out of their mouth and instead focuses on lending out a hand to them, both in a metaphorical and literal sense. He drags the chair a bit closer to them and hovers his body over the table standing between them, placing a hand on the human's shoulder and snapping them out of their spiral.

"(Y/N), please just... Just breathe, and calm down for a moment," he mutters, making them face his gaze, stern and sober. "This's why I wanna tell you everythin' bit by bit. There's a lot more to the story, and I know you wanna be a good parent for Frisk, so please, take a breath and hear me out. I won't ask you to forgive me, but for your time to listen to what I have to say, instead." He almost flinches when their hand touches the one he'd placed over their shoulder, though he combats that feeling by looking away for a quick moment to recollect his thoughts. "We have a whole history explaining why things worked at the Underground the way they did until recently," he continues. "And even though I know that doesn't mean all of our actions are justified, we still had our reasons, just as your kind -- your ancestors -- did for sealing us underground."

They let go of his hand, a subtle action that tells him it's time to let them go. He does just that and sits back down on his chair, taking another sip from the drink on his side of the table to combat the sour taste forming in his tongue. "I know I have absolutely no right in telling you to calm down anymore and that I shouldn't've even said it the first time. But I still want you to listen, so that you can help Frisk establish their new life with the other monsters at the Surface; with all the friends they made at the Underground, but also by knowing what some of those friends did and just who of us you can entrust their safety to." He offers his hand out to them, letting a smile ease out the grim aftertaste of his words. "So, whaddya say? Wanna hear me out? I promise to be honest with you, so long as you can promise to hear me and my kind out, and learn more 'bout our choices in the past."

"I…"

That's the only word he can hear from them as they stare at his hand, a wary glance being directed at it. "Could we hug it out again? I, well... still don't trust shaking your hand after what Frisk told me about you."

Though he hesitates for a second, he gives in with a grin and a nod. "Sure thing," he replies, chuckling. "C'mere, pal."

Sans stands up, and (Y/N) does the same.

They lean down to his height and let their arms sneak around his back, pulling him in for a second hug in just one day; on his first day meeting the human in person and on his first week here at the Surface, to be more exact. That same gentleness from before reaches his soul, enveloping him with a strong sense of safety, serenity, and warmth, despite the circumstances of it all. It was of no doubt that the person hugging him cared greatly for Frisk's happiness, almost just as much as they did for Frisk's safety. That shows through how willing they were to listen to him, how quickly they regained composure, and how welcoming their hug is, almost as if they were offering him a second chance to hear him out -- and just by the feeling of that hug alone.

"Thanks for being patient with me," he mutters, still kept in the hug. "I promise I'll try to provide you with as much information as I can." He lets go and finally stares at them again. "That sounds good to ya? Or are ya bored of me already?"

Tension eases out as the human lets a laugh burst through. "Sounds good," they reply, smiling. "And don't worry. I… I'm not bored of you yet -- Far from it, actually."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

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

And that's it for this week!

I'm still trying to figure out a good publishing schedule, but updates will continue to be weekly on Saturdays as usual, with the exception of double updates. :-)

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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lockefanfic · 4 years ago

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Business Trip: Pt 28 - Glass

Jay is unsatisfied with Nayeon’s neck, and he is quickly moving downward, to the buttons of her blue shirt. He quickly unbuttons the two buttons there before reaching up to her shoulders and sliding the shirt down her shoulders, until her small, perfect breasts are revealed, Nayeon having evidently decided not to wear a bra. Jay pauses momentarily to admire her naked chest, until Nayeon reaches up and pulls the shirt down further, pushing her own chest outward to put her breasts on full display.

Jay doesn’t waste any time and dives in, quickly capturing and beginning to suck on her left nipple - Nayeon lets a slight moan of pleasure escape her lips, not once allowing her gaze to deviate from the glass, her eyes somehow remaining locked on yours, even though you knew it should have been impossible for her to know where you were.

You are distracted from the sight playing out in front of you by Seolhyun, who is shuffling uncomfortably next to you, unsure quite how to react to what was happening in the interrogation room. When she turns her head to look at you, her cheeks are flushed and she is biting her lip, her right arm crossed around her torso while her left hand has drifted lower, past her flat stomach…

She doesn’t use words - but you find what she wants in her eyes.

You reach over, wrapping your hand around the small of her back and pulling her towards you - but keeping her facing the glass, ensuring you could both watch.

The empty chair held your attention for too long.

You shake your head in an effort to rid yourself of the thoughts surrounding the chair and the person who should have occupied it, but your efforts are in vain. Your ears register the sound of a young woman speaking, although her words sound muffled, as though she is far away.

"Sir? Sir, are you okay?"

It takes you a moment to realize you are being spoken to. For a moment you think it is her voice - but when your eyes finally manage to start working once more, you realize, sadly, that it isn't her.

"Sir?" she asks again, and your eyes finally make out the image of a young woman with blonde hair and pale, porcelain skin.

"I'm sorry, Dahyun," you answer, "I'm fine."

"Here's your coffee, sir," she answers as she offers you a smile undercut with a healthy amount of concern.

"Thank you."

You accept the paper cup and stare blankly at the transparent amber liquid inside and realize that it definitely wasn't coffee. It was probably tea. Before you could say anything, Dahyun scurries off to finish handing off the rest of the drinks on her tray.

"She got my order wrong too. I wanted green tea, and I'm pretty sure this is an Americano," comes a voice, and you realize it is coming from Seolhyun, who is seated to your left. You turn to see that she is offering you a smile, and you return it with one of your own - at least, as much of a smile as you could manage. You slide your cup over to Seolhyun, and she gladly accepts your trade.

A loud clanging sound takes the attention from the both of you,and you realize that Dahyun has dropped the metal tray she was using to pass around the drinks to everyone seated around the boardroom table. She grabs the fallen tray and bows repeatedly to everyone in apology.

"She's clumsy as hell, but she means well," you say to Seolhyun.

Kim Dahyun was the newest member of your team, assigned to you as your new personal assistant following Choa's departure to Europe. You had only met her the day before when JYP himself introduced her to everyone in the Seoul office. You'd yet to form much of an opinion of her other than the fact that she was a bit of a klutz, constantly dropping things and getting simple things like drink orders wrong. But her resume and education were impressive, and you could tell by the way she conducted herself that she had nothing but the best of intentions.

"She has big shoes to fill," Seolhyun observes, "Choa was on point with everything." You nod absentmindedly in agreement, staring blankly at your cup of coffee. Dahyun has shuffled off to the front of the room to where Jihyo and Nayeon are trying, mostly in vain, to set up the projector and laptop for their presentation - something Dahyun really should have taken care of, and something Choa would have had ready half an hour before.

A few moments pass as the three of them try to figure out the right combination of monitor settings and cable plugging to get the presentation up on the projector. They eventually manage to get some sort of image up on the screen, but it's blurry and out of focus. Your eyes drift, involuntarily, back to the empty chair.

"I don't know what happened between you and her," Seolhyun begins, "but I'm sorry."

You look back at Seolhyun, who has an earnest look on her face, and offer her a weak smile. Your occasional liaisons with her were obviously amazing - she had the body of a model and knew how to use it - but even beyond that you were nonetheless thankful that she had become a good friend over the past several months.

"Thanks, Seolhyun. It was tough, but it's for the best."

At that moment Sana, Tzuyu, and Jeongyeon enter the room, the three of them greeting everyone with smiles and bows. Your gaze settles a little longer on Jeongyeon, who offers you a warm, if nervous, smile - and you couldn't help but notice the slight blush on her cheeks as she turns away to assist the three women at the front of the room with their technical issues.

Seolhyun must have caught on to the look you shared with her.

"You move on quick," she says, a hint of derision in her voice, "I'd thought the fun you two were having on the plane was just a physical thing." She'd obviously known Momo longer than Jeongyeon and had built a strong friendship with the Japanese girl. You didn't blame her for jumping to conclusions, especially if she'd noticed what you and Jeongyeon were up to on the flight over.

"It's not what you think," you say, wanting to clarify things, "this has nothing to do with Jeongyeon."

"Okay," Seolhyun says, appearing satisfied for now, "if you say so. I trust you."

Your eyes stray back to the empty chair.

"She loved you," Seolhyun says, softly.

"I know," you answer.

---

Im Nayeon had always been an effective public speaker - the confidence and poise of her everyday personality showed through in the way she spoke, every word filled with conviction, as though she was one hundred percent sure of everything she said. Doubt was anathema to her - or so she made it seem.

"High functioning criminals like these operate similarly," she states, "They keep records of everything they do in case they need it in the future for blackmail or as an alibi or for some other reason. Thus far, JYP's efforts to access that information via online methods has failed due to lack of technical effort, or ability, or both."

Your gaze immediately snaps to Jeongyeon, who has a defiant, angry look on her face following Nayeon's thinly veiled insult. Her hand on the table has clenched into a fist. If Nayeon noticed her reaction, she ignored it and continued with her presentation.

"I believe that incriminating evidence exists in hard copy form, or on secure, non-networked hard drives. I believe it is being held somewhere in SM headquarters."

"And how exactly do you propose we find out where they're keeping those records," Jeongyeon asks with an edge in her tone, "nevermind actually going in there and getting them?"

"We have the resources to determine the exact location of those records. At the moment those resources are sitting in jail cells. It's just a matter of forcing the information out of those resources."

Jihyo rises from her seat and joins Nayeon at the front of the room.

"We know for a fact that Son Sungwan and Park Sooyoung - better known by their SM aliases of Wendy and Joy, respectively - worked closely with Bae Irene for years," she says, "We know that they were involved in a number of similar attacks to the ones they have committed on JYP, including those on YG and Starship. On top of that, we have three others that worked closely with Irene - Park Jaebom, Yoon Bora, and Kim Hyojung - also in custody. If anyone would know where in SM headquarters those records are being kept, it's one of them."

"We've interrogated them already," Seolhyun points out, "in fact, you oversaw those interrogations yourself, detective. Are you saying that you missed something?"

"No, I'm merely saying we hadn't thought to interrogate them regarding the possibility of their records existing somewhere in SM headquarters. It was something we hadn't considered until my colleague here suggested it," Jihyo answers with a nod towards Nayeon.

"What we are proposing," Nayeon continues, "is that we re-interrogate Irene’s associates that we have in custody, this time with an aim towards confirming the existence, and then the location of, records that will incriminate SM for past crimes and implicate them in the crimes they have committed towards JYP."

There is a hush in the room as those in attendance consider her proposition. After a few moments Sana speaks up, a somewhat concerned look on her face.

"So saying these records to exist," she asks, leaning forward, "what's the next step? We raid SM with the police and obtain them by force?"

"Unfortunately, no," Jihyo answers, "we would never get a warrant for that. The law would consider anything Wendy and Joy say to be a confession given under duress. Furthermore it's entirely possible Wendy and Joy would give us false information, in which case SM could sue for wrongful accusation and invasion of privacy if we were to raid them and find nothing. Someone would have to go into SM headquarters and retrieve the records themselves."

The assembled members of your team whisper amongst themselves for a few moments as they consider what Jihyo was implying.

"That sounds like some sort of secret agent mission," Tzuyu says with a tone of disbelief, "and furthermore SM knows who all of us are. Their security would grab us the second we step foot on their property."

You had raised a similar point at the bar in Hawaii when Jihyo first proposed her plan. You were curious to see how your team reacted to her answer.

"We're aware of that. This is why the person conducting the record retrieval will be someone who is completely foreign and unknown to SM."

"That would be me," Nayeon says, a smug smirk on her features.

As the other girls give snorts of disbelief and whisper disapprovingly to themselves, you lock eyes with Nayeon.

There was nothing but pride there in those eyes. Pride and full, complete confidence.

---

If one word could be used to describe Jay, it would be smug.

He had a look on his face like everything that was happening to him was beneath him, as though he didn’t really believe he was facing pretty intense criminal charges. It was almost as if he thought being detained for attempted murder of a SWAT team member - in addition to conspiracy, kidnapping, and extortion charges - was only a minor inconvenience at most, and that he’d be free in no time at all.

It was a look that pissed off Kim Seolhyun.

“I want to walk in there and slap that look right off his fucking face,” she says, crossing her arms as she stands next to you, observing the detained former detective from the viewing room next to the interrogation room.

“You and I both,” you agree.

The door to the interrogation room opens, and in walks Im Nayeon - and the look on her face is one of boredom, of aloofness, of someone being forced to go through the paces. She is wearing a light blue sweater dress that leaves most of her long, slim legs bare; perfect for the warm Seoul summer, you suppose, but a little out of place in an interrogation room. She gives Jay a quick look and rolls her eyes.

You knew Nayeon, and you knew enough about her job, to know this was all an act.

She saunters nonchalantly over to the desk where Jay is sitting with his wrists handcuffed to a bar in the middle of the table, casually tossing a file she carried onto it. She crosses her perfectly sculpted legs and begins to examine her nails, seemingly irritated at some imperfection she saw in the glossy red finish.

Jay seemed a little taken aback by Nayeon’s aloof attitude towards what he had assumed would be an interrogation.

“Aren’t you here to interrogate me, sweetheart? Or are you just here to play with your nails?”

Nayeon ignores him the same way she would ignore an insect that was buzzing around her. Jay persists.

“Where are you from, anyway? You’re not from Seoul PD. No way a hottie like you would be working here and I wouldn’t know it.”

Nayeon finally acknowledges Jay’s presence with a sharp look.

“Seoul PD brought me in to interrogate you. But I don’t want to be here, you don’t want to be here,” she says as she browses idly through the papers in the file on the table, “so I’m just going to tell them that you’ve been uncooperative and then we can both stop this fucking waste of time. I’m sure not cooperating with a police investigation will add another year or two to the decade or so that you’ll be spending in jail.”

Nayeon picks up a pen from within the file and begins to scratch something in a notepad. Jay scoffs.

“Too bad all the cameras and microphones in this room have recorded you not giving a shit about your job,” he hisses.

“Who says they’re turned on?” Nayeon retorts, not even looking up from the notes she is scribbling on her notepad. Jay snorts, seemingly frustrated with the young woman’s nonchalance - he was playing, it seemed, right into Nayeon’s trap. She finishes whatever she was jotting down on the notepad, adding a flourish to the bottom part of the page, as though she were leaving her signature.

“Well, good meeting you. Enjoy rotting in jail,” she says, before standing and heading towards the door.

“Wait,” Jay says as she reaches it, her hand on the doorknob.

From your point of view you could just barely make out the small smirk that appears on Nayeon’s lips. And you might have just imagined it, but you could have sworn she’d given you a look, despite the two-way glass between you that would have kept her from seeing where you were.

“What?” Nayeon asks, appearing annoyed once again.

“Maybe I can help you out. Fill you in on something. Maybe in return you can tell the higher-ups something that’ll get me off these charges.”

“You’re gonna squeal? Gonna snitch? I fucking knew you were a loser.”

“Listen, Bora and I were just doing it for the money. We ain’t got no beef with these JYP peeps, and no loyalty to that SM bitch either. I don’t give a shit if you take them down.”

“And what do you know that could be helpful to me?”

“Lots,” Jay answers, leaning back in his chair now that he thought he had Nayeon’s attention, “ Bora and I met with Irene quite a bit to plan out our operation. I could tell you where we met.”

Nayeon saunters back to the desk, throws the file back onto the table, and crosses her legs and arms once more. That irritated, displeased look on her face is still there, as though every second she spent with Jay was a waste of her valuable time.

“Go on,” she says with a lazy tone, as though she was only humoring him.

“We met at SM headquarters most of the time. Place is done up tighter than Fort Knox - if you go through the front door. We went in through a side entrance. Black door in an alleyway. It had a keypad.”

“And what was the code?”

Jay smirks - he had been waiting for this moment.

“How about you tell your boss that Bora and I are to be set free - then I’ll tell you the code?”

“Fuck off,” Nayeon hisses, gathering her folder and beginning to leave.

“Alright, alright,” Jay says, raising his hands as best he could given that they were handcuffed to the desk, “I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you. But you gotta do something for me too.”

“You’re in no position to bargain,” Nayeon answers, nodding her head towards his handcuffed wrists.

“Those are the terms,” Jay says, folding his hands in front of him on the desk, “that keypad code will get you right into SM HQ. I ain’t got no love for those bastards, but you still gotta give me something if I’m gonna give it to you.”

Nayeon’s frown deepens, as though she were weighing her options.

“Alright, listen,” she says after awhile, “I can’t get you off completely. I might be able to lessen your charges so you get only a year or two. Maybe I’ll even get it down to a few months. I’ll do what I can. In return, you give me the code.”

“Fine. It’s a six digit code. It’s 4, 3, 1…”

Nayeon has been jotting down the numbers, but her eyes perk up when Jay leaves the last three numbers out.

“...and?” she says, irritated.

“You’ll get the last three numbers when Bora and I go free.”

“Fuck you,” Nayeon spits, “it’s all six numbers or nothing.”

“Then have fun getting into SM without the code, detective,” Jay retorts.

“Then have fun rotting in jail,” responds, parroting Jay’s tone.

Jay frowns.

“Alright. Maybe there’s another way you can convince me to give you those last three digits, detective,” he says, giving the young woman a suggestive look up and down, his eyes lingering for too long on her breasts and the way they sat atop her folded arms.

Nayeon stares at Jay, her eyes boring into him with a look of annoyance.

“Alright, I’ll give you twenty minutes.”

“...twenty minutes for what, detective?” Jay asks. Nayeon rolls her eyes again, impatient, as though she was frustrated with Jay’s inability to grasp what she meant.

“I’ll give you twenty minutes with me. In return, you give me the last three numbers.”

Jay lets a small, sly smile appear on his lips - he caught on to what Nayeon was implying, but he still wanted to hear her say it.

“I’m not understanding what you mean by twenty minutes with you, detective. I’m afraid you’re going to have to explain what you mean.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don’t act like you haven’t been mentally undressing me since the second I stepped in here. I suppose I can give you what you want - I’m bored as fuck around here anyway. Korean guys have no game in the sack. At least you were born in America.”

Jay’s only response is a deepening of his self-satisfied smile.

Nayeon lets a snort out, as though she were disgusted at the prospect of what she were about to allow him to do. She pulls a set of keys from her folder’s pocket, leaning forward to unlock Jay’s handcuffs - giving him a nice look down her shirt as she does so.

When Jay’s hands are free, she steps over to his side of the desk before hopping on top of it in front of him.

“The timer’s ticking,” she says, her voice suddenly low, “you better get started. If you make me cum, maybe I’ll make sure you and Bora are out of here by the end of the day.”

Nayeon reaches down and pulls her short shirt up until it is bunched around her waist, revealing the scant pair of white panties she has on underneath.

Next to you, Seolhyun suffles uncomfortably - you glance over to see a concerned, somewhat confused look on her face, as though she weren’t quite sure what to make of what was playing out in front of her. You were similarly uncomfortable; surely this was just some ploy on Nayeon’s part? Surely she really didn’t mean to let him…

Jay stands, a cocky smile on that smug face of his, and he moves between Nayeon’s spread legs and kisses her deeply.

You are taken aback by this, not expecting her to let him actually touch her, let alone kiss her; you are equal parts shocked and angered, and when you watch as Jay’s tongue enters Nayeon’s mouth - and Nayeon’s tongue darts out to welcome it - you feel your fists curl in anger. Jay doesn’t stop at her lips, however, and soon he dives into Nayeon’s neck, and she lets her head fall back to give him better access to her soft, perfect vanilla skin - and as she does so, she lets her head fall to the side where she gazes at the glass between you, as though she were looking right at you.

She doesn’t use words - but you find what she wants in her eyes.

You reach over, wrapping your hand around the small of her back and pulling her towards you - but keeping her facing the glass, ensuring you could both watch.

Seolhyun lets a soft gasp escape her lips, but she doesn’t stop you; quite the opposite, in fact, as she braces herself against the glass and looks behind her at you, her eyes suddenly lustful and full of need.

You step behind her, pressing yourself against her tall, thin frame, and you let your hands wander over the curves of her perfectly sculpted body. You weren’t quite sure why it was happening - but you knew perhaps that watching Jay and Nayeon had inspired a voyeuristic lust in both of you that neither of you could deny.

You reach around Seolhyun’s body with your right hand, finding and quickly unbuttoning the light green shirt she is wearing. All the while she is pressing her frame against yours, rubbing that round, full butt of hers against your quickly hardening shaft. She unbuttons the khaki skirt she is wearing, and you quickly undo your pants, allowing them to fall to your ankles where they join her skirt.

In the interrogation room, Jay has continued his path downward, pushing Nayeon’s legs up on the desk until her feet are flat on the top of it, her legs spread wantonly as he dips his head between her thighs. He reaches around her butt and quickly pulls off her white panties, flinging them across the room. Jay certainly wouldn’t have noticed given his proximity to the delicious looking prize between her spread legs, but Nayeon has turned her body slightly.

All so that you could have the perfect view of another man’s head between her thighs.

It angered you, it made you jealous, it confused you - but you pushed those feelings aside. There was only lust in your mind now, and the show playing out in front of you only increased your need to satiate that desire.

Jay falls to his knees and dips his head to Nayeon’s crotch; you can’t see it, but you could tell by the glazed expression of lust on Nayeon’s face, and the breathy moan that escapes her mouth, that his tongue has begun to play with her body.

Simultaneously, in the viewing room, your hand has travelled down Seolhyun’s firm abs, and at almost the same time, Seolhyun echoes Nayeon’s moan with one of her own as your fingers graze her wet, hot lips.

Jay continues his work on your ex-girlfriend in the interrogation room, Nayeon’s expression twisting in evermore deepening depictions of lust and pleasure; expressions that are echoed in Seolhyun’s features as your fingers work on her pussy, spreading her lips apart with your index and ring finger, allowing your middle finger perfect access to her clit, first gathering her juices on your fingertip and then circling the sensitive bud with slow, soft touches.

For long minutes you continue, Jay between Nayeon’s legs and you behind Seolhyun, the moans and lustful gasps emanating from both women rising steadily in concert with the pleasure building in their young, tight bodies.

All the while, Nayeon has kept her eyes glued to the one-way glass that separates your two rooms. It should have been impossible. She shouldn’t have been able to see where you were standing. But she did - you could have sworn she was staring right at you, even as her eyes are half-lidded with pleasure as the man working between her legs plays havoc with her flesh.

Suddenly, Nayeon pushes Jay’s head out from between her legs. She hops off the table, places her hands on it and looks back at Jay.

“Fuck me.”

Jay wipes Nayeon’s juices from his mouth with the back of his hand and licks off what he doesn’t. His smile, that fucking smug smile of his, is right back on his face as he steps behind Nayeon, grasping his cock in one hand and your ex-girlfriend’s hip with the other.

With one hard thrust he enters her, and soon he is fucking her.

You watch, momentarily dumbfounded, as another man does to Nayeon what you had done yourself all those years ago, and the sight of it angers you, confuses you, and made you want to go over there and punch that stupid grin right off Jay’s face. To watch Nayeon, and her perfect, small little body, be taken and fucked by another man - it made you furious.

Seolhyun’s moans distract you temporarily from the anger that was building in your head.

“Oh, god… that feels so good… stop. Fuck me. Fuck me now.”

You don’t even hesitate, don’t even wait a second longer. You withdraw your drenched fingertips from Seolhyun’s body and pull your boxers down, freeing your straining hard cock from their cotton prison before lining up your shaft between Seolhyun’s legs, the wanton young woman spreading her long limbs and bending over slightly to give you the best access she could.

With one long, hard thrust you enter Seolhyun’s wet, hot pussy - at the same time, in the interrogation room, Nayeon lets a long, loud moan escape her lips as she is fucked from behind by Jay. You have a perfect side view of them, and you can watch as Jay’s cock appears slick and wet from Nayeon’s body before hammering right back inside her, her small, cute butt rippling with each impact of his hips.

Nayeon’s eyes return to yours - there is lust there, but also some other emotion. She wants you to see her like this. She wants you to watch another man fuck her, have his way with her, just as you used to do.

The anger that is building up in your body is taken out on Seolhyun, as you fuck her against the interrogation room glass, roughly and without care for her or her pleasure - her body served only as an outlet for the frustration, anger, and confusion in your mind - anger that Nayeon would pull a stunt like this, would fuck another man in front of you just to piss you off.

Seolhyun moans and gasps and her pussy is tight and wet and hot, but your real focus is on Nayeon, and the way her small, tight body is rocked back and forth on the table as Jay fucks her - your eyes lock with each other, never straying apart, even though the one-way glass should have kept you from doing so.

You reach up Seolhyun’s quivering torso and grasp one of her breasts through her bra, your other hand grasping her hip tightly and pushing it back toward you as you thrust forward with your hips into her wet flesh, each thrust eliciting a gasp or moan of pleasure - she was loving every moment of this.

“Yes!” she gasps, “yes.. Fuck me… fuck me… fuck me!”

Seolhyun was lost, uncaring of the circumstances that led to this moment, uncaring of the context of the relationship you and Nayeon had. All that mattered to her was the intense pleasure emanating from her core, and the hard shaft that was spearing in and out of her body as she was fucked against the glass.

In the interrogation room, Jay smacks Nayeon’s ass with a firm palm, and Nayeon yelps in pleasure and pain. She turns as far as she can while still keeping him inside her and places a hand on his chest, implicitly telling him to stop moving - and when he stops thrusting you watch as Nayeon begins to push herself back, impaling herself over and over again on Jay’s unmoving cock. Her lower body moves like liquid, her hips working hard as they are swirling and gyrating smoothly, taking the hard shaft between her legs in and out of her pussy in up and down, back and forth motions.

Nayeon returns her gaze to you.

You are furious now, and you take it out on Seolhyun, pistoning in and out of her body with increasing pace, her pussy tightening around yours as though heralding her orgasm.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck me… God, I’m so close… oh god, I’m cumming!”

Seolhyun orgasms, but you don’t care, and you fuck her right through it, not stopping at all, not even lessening the intensity or depth of your thrusts into her spasming, quivering pussy. You tighten your grip on her hip and her breast, continuing your thrusts as you feel your own orgasm approaching.

In the interrogation room, Nayeon is satisfied with the show she has given Jay, and turns to whisper to him once more.

“Fuck me until I cum,” she whispers.

Jay returns his hands to her hips, enjoying the sight of Nayeon’s small, perfectly fit body bent over for him, her pussy impaled on his shaft. Licking his lips, he goes back to fucking her; Nayeon’s gaze returns to yours.

Soon her body is rocking back and forth on the table again, and Nayeon raises her upper body from the desk, bracing herself with her hands, until she is almost upright. Her small, perfect breasts bounce with each thrust into her, the mounds of flesh looking so delicious, her nipples still stiff with pleasure.

In the viewing room you are still pounding in and out of Seolhyun - she is moaning, and gasping, and speaking dirty, filthy words, but almost none of them really register - your eyes are locked on Nayeon’s.

For another minute this goes on. Every thrust Jay makes into Nayeon’s body is mirrored with one of your own into Seolhyun.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Nayeon says, her voice carrying an edge, as though she didn’t want to admit it.

In the viewing room, Seolhyun’s wet, slick pussy was driving you close to your own.

“Cum in me,” Seolhyun hisses, distracting you momentarily, “fucking cum in me. Deep inside me. I want it. Cum… cum inside me!”

Your orgasms strike you both simultaneously - in the interrogation room, Nayeon lets a sharp gasp escape her open lips as she cums, throwing her head back with a louder moan as her body is wracked and finally overcome with pleasure. Her small body quivers and shakes, something you were well familiar with, and the sight of it now, due to another man, made you outright furious.

In the viewing room you fill Seolhyun’s needy body with thick, hot streams of semen as you cum, your grip on her perfect frame tightening almost painfully as you empty yourself inside her. Seolhyun lets out a satisfied moan at the feeling of your warm seed coating her pussy, and a part of you wants to indulge her, wants to savor the feeling of her body accepting your cum, but your eyes are still locked on the young woman in the interrogation room.

Nayeon pushes back on Jay, and he slips out of her and slumps onto the chair, his shaft glistening and slick with her juices.

“I hope we ain’t done yet, sweetheart,” he says, that asshole of a smile still plastered all over his face.

Nayeon takes a moment to compose herself, but when she does she picks up the handcuffs from the table, sauntering over to Jay’s seated form, her breasts and lower body still exposed by the shirt dress that was bunched up around her midsection.

“I have other things in mind for you,” she says, lustily. Jay licks his lips in anticipation.

“Tell me what I want,” Nayeon continues, straddling Jay on the chair as she bends to whisper into his ear, “and I’ll let you cum. Wherever you want.”

At this point Jay is almost helpless, his hard shaft, still slick with Nayeon’s juices, pressed against Nayeon’s lower stomach as she grinds softly against it, her slick lips spreading her slick wetness onto his balls.

“Fuck, sweetheart-”

“Tell me. Tell me the last three digits, and I’ll fuck every drop of cum out of your balls.”

“Alright, alright. The digits are 4, 3, 1…. 2…”

“I’ll drain you dry. Anywhere you want. In my mouth?”

“4…”

“Or… in this wet, tight little pussy?”

“Fuck… the last one is…”

“Tell me, Jay. Tell me and you can fill me. Fill me with your cum.”

“7!. It’s 7. The code is 4, 3, 1, 2, 4, 7.”

Nayeon turns her head, locking eyes with you again through the glass, where you are still standing behind Seolhyun’s spent, exhausted body. Your shaft is still embedded inside her.

“Good boy,” she whispers into Jay’s ear, before standing up and pulling down her shirt and rebuttoning up the collar.

“Hey, what the… what the fuck?” Jay spits.

Nayeon snaps her fingers. The door to the interrogation room opens, and in walk two police officers - and Jihyo, with a look of intense disapproval on her face as she steps in and crosses her arms.

“Toss him into a hole and let him rot,” Nayeon says as she smooths her messy hair and finishes composing herself. With a nonchalance that impresses you, she saunters over to the notepad on the desk, where she jots down the code Jay gave her.

Jay resists, hard, but the two officers finally manage to drag him cursing and swearing out of the room, his pants still around his knees. Jihyo follows them, but not before giving Nayeon one last look. Nayeon sees it and points at the code she has obtained, and Jihyo seems placated enough to give her one last smirk before turning and leaving the room.

In the viewing room your softened cock finally slips out of Seolhyun’s body, drawing a gasp from the young woman as a not insignificant stream of hot semen flows from her entrance to stain her full thighs. She turns around and leans back against the glass, breathing heavily. You step forward and press yourself against her, bringing your lips to hers and kissing her deeply - not so much a kiss of passion or of lust, but one of appreciation. It was your half-hearted way of apologizing for not paying as much attention to her as she deserved, not that she minded.

“Fuck, that was hot,” she gasps, still breathing heavily. Her shirt is still undone, and you couldn’t help but watch as her bra-clad breasts heaving up and down as she catches her breath.

Seolhyun catches on to the look you are giving her, and she reaches up to your cheek.

“Now that the distraction is over, you can stop pretending you’re fucking her,” she whispers, “and you can start fucking me.”

She reaches up and lets her green blouse fall from her shoulders, then reaches behind her to undo her bra, letting it fall to the floor. She falls to her knees, and with her small hands she grasps your shaft, still slick with her own juices and your cum, and gives it a lick from top to bottom.

Seolhyun soon has you at full hardness, and you want to focus on her, want to give her the attention she deserves. For a second you look down and watch as she takes your now fully hard cock in and out of her wet, warm mouth. Seolhyun had the body of a goddess, and you knew the coming minutes would be pleasurable in the extreme, especially now that you could focus on her and not someone else. You want to give her the fucking she deserved, undistracted by what was going on in the next room.

But all you can think of is the young woman in the interrogation room. Nayeon gathers up her files and notepad, and with one last look at you, she leaves.

---

Author’s Note: Trying something new here with the voyeur thing, and I have to admit it was more fun than I thought it would be. Let me know what you all think :)

#kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #pov smut #male reader #twice nayeon #im nayeon #aoa seolhyun #kim seolhyun

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zmayadw · 4 years ago

Text

Hello, hello :)

It's time to continue the story, so here is the next part.

Wish you all a nice evening :)

CALL OF THE RAVEN

PART 21

It was Sunday. The light rain was drizzling from the morning, making the day feel even more lazy, and my mood was the same. Jake was at his laptop, as usual. I didnt feel like working today. I tried reading a book i downloaded months ago, but i wasnt focused enough for it also. I had my headphones on, not to distract Jake with music, and just messed arround on my laptop. As i hummed silently the words of a song that was playing, my headphones wer suddenly thrown from my ears by him. „Get dressed!“ he said to me, walking quickly back to the desk, taking some stuff and throwing them in his backpack. „Jake?“ I was confused, but he just shot me a sideway look and said more fiercly „Maya, get up and get dressed! Now!“ I was dressed already, i just needed to put my sneakers and a jacket on. As i was done, he tossed me my phone „Call Jessy, tell her we'll be there in 10 minutes, and that i need Dans help.“ He said and now i was even more confused. „Jake, whats going on?“ He didnt answer me, just continued taking the stuff, turning to his laptop and typing something on it. „Jake!“ i yelled. He finaly turned to me, throwing his backpack over his shoulder „I got it!“ „You got what?“ i asked now totaly confused, and a bit annoyed with those vague answers. He smirked, some new glow showing in his eyes „Where the calls are coming from.“ His words left me breathless. Can this really be? Are we finaly gonna get to the bottom of this all? My heart was beating like crazy, as Jake words snaped my attention back. He was holding the doors of the room open „Maya, move!“

I called Jessy once we wer in the car, explaining all to her, and she said Dan will wait for us outside. „You do know you're staying with Jessy, right?“ Jake said to me. „Yes, i kinda had a hunch you wont let me come with you.“ i said a bit dissapointed. „Maya, we have no clue what we're gonna find. I just need you to stay with her. I cant worry about you while we're there.“ „I know. Just promise me you'll be careful, too.“ „Ofcourse.“ He said. „Take my backpack.“ He told me „You'll find a white box in it, get it.“ I turned to the back seat taking his backpack and doing as he told me. I took the box out „What is it?“ i asked as i opened it. There was a phone in it, similar to the one he had. „Its my old phone. You're gonna use it. Its encrypted, so you wont recive any strange calls on it.“ „Oh, ok.“ I said. „And, yes, before you ask, im tracking that one, too.“ He said with a grin. „Ofcourse you are.“ I replied with a grin myself. He got serious on me „I just need to know i can find you if something happens. So, please, promise me you will always keep it with you.“ „I promise.“

Dan was waiting outside for us. I started to leave the car, when Jake pulled me back for a kiss „See you soon.“ I smiled, and left the car, letting Dan take my place. Jake raised his eyebrow at him as he sat in, since Dan was holding a baseball bat. „Hey, better be safe then sorry, man.“ Dan told him, closing the doors. „Come, Maya, i'll make us some coffee.“ Jessy said to me, as i watched Jake drive away, feeling of both excitement and fear mixing in me.

Jakes POV

„You all right there, Dan?“ i asked him. He was clenching that bat so hard. „Yeah, man, guess adrenalin is kicking in.“ I could relate to that. „You sure you're going in the right direction?“ he asked. „Yes, why?“ „We're close to leaving Duskwood. I tought you said the calls came from within Duskwood.“ They were. „Are there any buildings in this area?“ „Yeah, man, but it's just an abandoned warehouse. It's huge and been deserted for years.“ Dan said. „Perfect for hiding.“ I told him. „True.“ He said. „See that gravel path there? Take it, it will lead us to the entrance.“ Dan instructed me. After a while, we came at the warehous. There was a fence all over it, but visibly torn at various spots. „At least we wont have problems getting in.“ Dan said as we left the car. I took my backpack from the back seat. Opening it, i took out my knife, Dan eyeing me, but not saying a word about it. I threw my backpack over my shoulders. The rain started falling harder, so I pulled my hood on, turning to Dan „Lets go.“

„How are we gonna know where to go look at?“ Dan asked as we passed the fence. The place was huge, so his question was valid. I took my phone out, tapping on it and showing it to him „With this.“ He looked at it, a red dot blinking on the screen, showing wich direction we should go. „It will get us to the right building.“ „Good“ he siad „I dont want to be roaming here in vain. This place gives me goosebumps, man. You could definitely make a horror movie here.“ He said teasingly, but i could see he was being nervous. And he wasnt wrong, the place did look eerie. It was long deserted. Graffiti on the walls, some half torn from plasters missing, manny windows broken or dirty from the influence of time. Beside our footsteps, the only sound heard was the occasional dripping of water from the rain, falling on some meatl. And the sound of ravens cawing in the distance. How convenient, i tought. My phone beeped „This is it.“ I told Dan, pointing at the building a few feet from us to our right. Dan clenched his bat tighter again, and my hand automatically went for my waist, grabbing the knifes handle tightly, as we neared the building. „Allright“ Dan said „Lets find a way in.“

Mayas POV

I was nervously clicking on the phone Jake gave me, as Jessy settled a coffee cup infront of me. „Maya, the phone works fine. Stop checking it every thirty seconds.“ I smiled at her forcedly „Sorry, i'm just nervous as hell.“ I said, my leg bouncing uncontrollably under the table. „I get it, im nervous , too. But they barely left, it wont be some time till we might hear anything.“ She told me, and i knew she was right. „I know Jessy, but im getting a bad vibe about this.“ I said. „I hope its just my nervousness kicking in, but theres some terrible feeling creeping at me that something bad will happen.“ Jessy looked at me serious, fear creeping to her face now „I hope you're wrong.“ I looked at her, that bad feeling kicking me in the gut „Me too, Jessy.“

Jakes POV

Getting in wasnt a problem. We found a door on the side of the building, with the chain that was suppose to keep it closed, cut. Pushing it open, the sound of old doors creaking filled the place, and I cursed under my breath. There goes the element of surprise. It was quite dark inside, barely any light came in from the windows, full of dust, spiderwebs and old newspapers. Dan took his phone out turning the flashlight on and about to light up they way infront of us, but i stopped his hand. „Better not“ i said with hushed voice„We announced our presence enough allready.“ He looked at me, turning the flashlight off and putting the phone back to his pocket. „Right, sorry, man.“ We continued further slowly, letting our eyes adjust to the increasing darkness. The hallway leading us deeper in had doors appearing on each side every few feet, but all the rooms wer empty. I was getting desperate already, when suddenly Dan stopped me, pointing at the doors further in that i couldnt see good from where i stood. I moved to where Dan was, my heart starting to beat faster. There was a flicker of light coming from the doors that were ajar. We moved towards it, still checking the rest of the rooms on the way. Stopping in front of it, Dan slowly pushed the doors, opening them fully. The room was empty, except for a table at the opposite end of it. We moved towards it, Dan turning to me with eyes open wide „What the hell..“ There was a laptop on the desk, a program running on it, with a phone connected to it. But that wasnt what made Dan shocked. What shocked him, and got me boiling with rage wer the pictures thrown all over the desk. Pictures of Maya. One caught my eye immediately. I picked it up from the desk. It was from the day she got out of hospital. Sitting at the square, carelessly lost in her toughts. I knew the picture well, i had similar on my phone myself. I took it secretly, seeing her that day, before going to talk to her. She looked so beautiful, i just couldnt resist. But the tought of someone else was watching her that day, or any other day got me furious. „What the hell is going on here?“ Dan asked, but i was equally confused as him. I lowered the picture down, looking at the laptop in front of me. „Lets see what i can find.“

Dan was nervously tapping his foot standing next to me. „Can you please stop that?“ i told him, a bit annoyed. „Sorry, man.“ He said, constantly turning his head arround, scaning the room . His gaze stopped on the door leading to another room from this one „I'll go snoop arround.“ He started going for the door. „Be careful.“ I said, and he turned to me with a grin „Aww, you care fore me, man.“ I looked at him with a raised eyebrow „No, but i am scared of what Jessy might do to me if something happens to you.“ He laughed and continued towards the door. I focused back on the laptop. I just needed to find one little thing, anything that might shed some light to all of this, my eyes jumping all over the screen. I got interrupted by the noise coming from the room Dan went in. „Dan, you ok there?“ i yelled, my eyes still glued to the screen, but there was no answer. I straightened and turned towards the door. „Dan?“ i tried again, but nothing. Shit, what was he doing there. I walked towards the room. There was some more light pouring in, so i had no problem seeing Dan sprawled on the floor, unconscious. I started to ran to him, but the moment i stepped in, a blow to the head sent me down on my knees. Fuck, how could i just rush in so stupidly. I leaned on my palms, trying to shake off the dizziness. My sight got blurry, as i tried to move my head to look at the person standing above me. „You cant save her, boy. She will die.“ A sinister voice spat the words in my ear, sending chills through me, before another blow sent me face flat to the ground, all going dark on me.

Opening my eyes, Dan was hovering above me, looking worryingly at me. I was laying on my back and my head was pounding like crazy. „Welcome back.“ He said to me, extending his arm to help me up. Getting up just made my head pound even more and i got dizzy. I leaned on the wall steadying myself, Dan eyeing me. „You all right there, man?“ „Yeah, just give me a minute.“ Every move i made just made my head pound more and more. One blow to the head, i could manage. But two is a bit too much. I moved slowly back to the other room, with my shoulder still leaning on the wall. All was gone, the desk was cleared from everything. „Shit“ Dan cursed at the sight. But It didnt matter, there was nothing important on that laptop eitherway. „This means we can finaly leave this shit place?“ he asked. „Definatly.“ I said, taking the car keys from my pocket. „But i think it will be better if you drive.“

It was dark already when we left the building and headed back to the car. I was still feeling dizzy and with my head pounding so badly I had to focus hard not to loose my footing. „What are we gonna tell the girls, man?“ Dan asked as we finaly came to the car. I sat in, lowering the seat back as much as possible „The truth.“ I told him. „Damn it, this wont go easy on them, especialy on Maya.“ He said, as he started driving. The gravel path we took coming here made the car jumpy, and i felt every little stone, my head wanting to explode. „Indeed.“ I was scared how she will take all this. Last time was already hard on her. And this shit got serious now, i just hope she wont loose it completly this time.

„Come on, man.“ Dan said to me, as i opened my eyes, realizing we came back to his place. I got the seat back up, and left the car slowly. We went inside, heading for the kitchen. I heard Jessys voice as she saw Dan „Finaly!“ Maya was already on her feet running to me. She almost knocked me down, crushing full speed at me hugging me tightly. I smiled and hugged her back as tight as i could. She finaly looked at me, her face terrified. „I'm fine.“ I said to her. „Fine?“ she said worringly „That definatly doesnt look 'fine', Jake.“ Her fingers gently brushed the top right side of my forehead, and i vinced. There was a cut I havent noticed by now, with some dried blood arround it. „What happened?“ Jessy asked worryingly, as Dan settled glasses and a bottle of whiskey on the table. „We wer...surprised.“ he told her, as he opened the fridge, taking a bag of frozen vegetables, putting it at the back of his head. I just wanted to sit down, so i started towards the table, but the dizziness got back again. I leaned against the door frame, and just slid down, sitting on the floor. „Jake!“ Maya exclimed, crouching next to me. „I'm fine.“ I reasured her, but i knew she didnt belive me. And lets face it, i wasnt fine. „He needs to lay down“ Dan said „He looks like he might have concussion.“ „You're staying here tonight.“ Jessy said firmly „I'm not letting you drive to the motel now.“ „Indeed.“ Dan added, walking to us. „Alrigh, man“ he said, grabing me under my arm and getting me up. „ Let's get you to bed.“

„Here, drink this.“ I opened my eyes. She looked so worried, her eyes tired. „Im fine, Maya“ i told her, taking the painkillers and water from her. „Can you please stop saying that. You are not fine!“ „I am, now that im back here with you.“ I said smiling, trying to calm her down. „Jake! Can you be serious for a moment, please.“ I looked at her, barely managing to keep my eyes open. „I am serious.“ I said, and before she could say anything more i added „But, can we please talk about all this tomorrow? I could really use some rest.“ She tensed a bit, guilt showing on her face. „Ofcourse, sorry, i'll let you get some sleep .“ She said, taking the glass from me, and getting up. I stopped her, taking her hand, my eyes closing now on their own. „Stay.“ I said, my hand slipping from hers, I barely had any strenght left in me to stay awake. I felt the bed shift, and her hand gently brushing through my hair. She kissed me softly „Sleep now, i'm right here.“ I smiled, falling asleep in a heartbeat.

#duskwood #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood jessy #duskwood dan #duskwood jake x mc

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joontier · 4 years ago

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Patawad, paalam. | drabble

translation: forgive me, goodbye.

pairings: jungkook x reader

rating: NC-17

genre: romance, angst | warnings: wholesomeness basically (one-liner implied smut),,,,,, until you get to the last line gklasjdfa bUT DONT SKIP

word count: 1.3k

g/n: AHHHHH! my first release for The Paraluman Project!! might as well rename this angsty august (can i get an amen @mintseesaw this was meant to be posted in a few hours bUT IM IMPATIENT LIKE THAT kdsjfasfasf) anywho,, ‘Patawad, paalam’ is meant to be a prologue and an epilogue at the same time and if you guys want to have a lidol backstory well lmk okiiii,,,, yall know im ready to spoil my darlings EEEEP feedback is always appreciated!! ILY YALL

navi. | m.list

Today’s the big day.

The church had been decorated just like the way you’ve always pictured it to be - your idea of the perfect wedding finally a reality. Just as what had been planned years ago by both of you, you have decided on celebrating this once-in-a-lifetime event in your chapel - the very place where you two first met.

Four-feet tall pedestals crowned with bouquets of white hydrangeas stand tall and proud along the length of the aisle, while the sunlight passing through the stations of the cross depictions on the stained glass provided an extra burst of color on the snowy flowers.

Jungkook has never been good with crowds, especially not when the audience included their relatives and some of their closest family friends. Yeonwoo, Jungkook’s best friend of many years, takes notice of the man’s palpable uneasiness, and approaches the nervous man. “You’ll do just fine, Kook. I believe in you.” After a pat on the back, Jungkook smiles at his best friend, grateful for the much-needed reinforcement.

There’s a quiet chatter amongst the guests, remaining seated on the wooden pews as they wait for the processional. The benches have been newly varnished just for the occasion. While a number of the invited guests speak to each other to pass the time, the rest take photos of the immaculate venue as they praise the decorations. Perhaps he could mention your unparalleled efforts in his speech later at the reception.

Pride swells in Jungkook’s chest as he remembers how much time and effort you had spent perfecting each detail of the church’s decorations, investing at least three whole days of planning for the interior alone.

Jungkook stands by the altar patiently, big brown eyes scanning the crowd and silently thanking each one of them for having allocated a day from their busy lives just to witness one of the most important days of his life. The man continues to struggle with the event’s actuality, his stubborn nerves gnawing at him deliriously. In fact, he doesn’t think he’d been able to cope with reality for the past few days.

He recalls having dreamt about you last night, unable to sleep a wink after seeing a vivid image of you in a white dress during his slumber. The restless man takes a stroll in the seminary’s garden in the hopes that the tranquility afforded by the grounds will bring him enough peace and quiet to lull him back to sleep.

As he entered a secluded area only a few people knew of (you included), he found you on the swing, swaying yourself gently on the seat. He wanted to go back to his room, under the quite ridiculous belief that it was bad luck to see the bride just before the wedding ceremony. He watches you for a while, hiding behind a moss-covered wall. As he studies your features, he senses you’re just as restless as he was and shortly after, he finds himself walking towards you, unproven hearsay the last thing on his mind. You converse for a good two hours until you deemed it time to go back to your rooms and get some sleep. You both had a long day ahead of you and rest was important. With a final hug, you part ways once more.

The musical ensemble brings Jungkook out of his reverie, the sudden sound of the violin playing making him jerk slightly in surprise. The soloist starts strumming the strings of her guitar to a familiar tune, giving the song more depth and emotion with the melodic sound resonating throughout the chapel. The crowd’s chatter immediately falls to a hush, the audience faces the entrance to watch the highly-anticipated processional.

Wise men say, only fools rush in

But I can’t help, falling in love with you

Your niece enters first, passionately throwing white petals from a large disproportionate wooden basket. Her tiny feet carry her throughout the length of the aisle, sending a half-toothless smile left and right.

Her older brother trails after her a couple of meters away, his usually unruly hair now handsomely tamed with gel for this special occasion. The audience coos at the siblings, finding the duo most endearing. There’s muted laughter amongst the crowd as his small hands tremble, the ring pillow shaking lightly in his grasp. As they reach the altar, your brother, the best man, gives the siblings a high five before guiding them back to their pews.

Like a river flows, slowly to the sea,

Darling, so it goes,

Some things are meant to be

The bridesmaids file in with bright smiles from the side, each carrying a mellow arrangement of baby breaths and lavenders. Your closest cousin, Cassie, who you chose to be the maid of honor has flown all the way from Canada just to witness your wedding. She walks the carpeted aisle slowly, dabbing at her cheeks with the back of her hand as she clutches onto a bouquet with the other.

Next in line are Jungkook’s parents, who are both holding on to each other for support. When Jungkook’s and his mother’s eyes meet for the first time today, unspoken words are shared between the mother and son, small smiles gracing their lips in acknowledgement. Your parents follow after them with your father’s cheeks already red and wet with tears.

As the entire entourage get to their seats at the front, the music stops. All bodies turn to face the entrance. The majestic wooden doors finally open with an audible creek, and the whole chapel falls quiet.

Take my hand,

Take my whole life too,

For I can’t help falling in love with you

Jungkook’s eyes, previously scanning the crowd, finally fixate on you. God, you were so beautiful. He reprimands himself for using the Lord’s name in vain, but at the same time, there was no one else to speak to, or thank but the Lord Himself: for his life, for his family, for this day, and most especially, for you.

You looked magnificent. Regal, even.

He wasn’t familiar with how dresses were described in detail, all he knows is that the exact moment he saw you today, time just froze, as if the whole world paused in its entirety. You were the girl in his dreams. You were the girl of his dreams.

A tiara adorned with crystals and pearls rests prettily on your head, the crown anchoring a sheer, long lace veil that flowed beautifully along the length of your gown at the back. The bodice of your dress accentuated your curves wonderfully and the endless number of baroque patterns sewn onto the fabric of your dress added up to the silhouette your wedding gown graciously gave you.

Jungkook’s mind betrays him for a moment - the vivid memory of the single intimate moment you two shared - an experience of a lifetime that had been etched onto the back of his head for the rest of eternity.

Jungkook subconsciously tugs at his sleeves, racking his brain for something to stop his trembling hands but achieves nothing. His palms are likewise getting clammy, only adding to the poor man’s nervousness. When he meets his mother’s eyes one more time and she sees the emotion swirling in his son’s eyes, she lets out a choked sob, resting her head against her husband’s shoulders as he places a consoling hand on her back for support. Jungkook diverts his eyes before his own tears threaten to fall.

As you finally reach the altar with your own hands trembling like a falling leaf in autumn, Jungkook gives you a small smile, one you reciprocate with a warmer one. Tears start to well in his eyes. Jungkook closes his eyes for a moment, gathering his courage as he takes a deep breath. With renewed hope, he takes in his surroundings and sets another smile on his face, this time more genuine than the last. He spreads his arms and speaks -

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of God, to witness the joining of my very own brother, Junghyun and _________ in the holy covenant of marriage…”

#paralumanproject #bangtanhq #btsguild #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #btsgoldnet #bts imagines #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines

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jamesdeerest · 5 years ago

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i’ve got friends on the other side

pairing: harry hook x reader

request: @isadcraquagmires asked “can i request a harry hook x reader where the reader is a shy n soft princess in auradon and comes w ben to get mal cause the reader actually thinks she’s really cool even though shes a vk. and then harry kidnaps her w ben?”

notes: pahhahahh i got the title from princess and the frog im sORRY heheh *he’s got friends on the other side* also this is shitt and shorttt im soryryryryyryr

warnings: swearing

word count: 900 im sorryyyyyyyy

“You know, Y/N, you’re not that bad. For an Auradon kid.” Mal said, munching on her sandwich.

You smiled at her. “You’re alright too, I suppose. For a VK.”

Evie laughed. “Who knew Y/N had a sarcastic side? I thought you were just an irritatingly nice princess.”

You shook your head. “Oh shush, you. There’s nothing wrong with being nice.”

Mal frowned. “Just don’t let people take advantage of that, yeah? Can’t have the Princess being corrupted.” she said protectively, glaring at Audrey from across the cafeteria.

“That’s why I’m hanging out with a bunch of VK’s. No chance of corruption there, right?” you grinned, making the group laugh, before you stood up. "Right. I have to go do homework, but I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?”

They nodded, but Mal stood up, and pulled you into a hug. “I’m gonna miss you, Y/N.”

You smiled, slightly confused. “Miss me? I’ll see you later, Mal. I’m going to the library, not my death.”

Jay gasped. “The library is where fun goes to die. Good luck, Y/N.”

You laughed, patting his head, and walked off, leaving the group chatting away. They were a bit strange, but you liked them, despite what everyone else thought.

Later on, you were working on an essay in the library, when Ben burst in. “Y/N!” he yelled, immediately being shushed by the librarian. You stared at him, wide-eyed as he collapsed in the chair in front of you, panting.

“Are you okay?” you asked, worried.

“Mal’s gone.” he said breathily, face flushed.

“Gone where? I’m sure she’ll turn up soon-”

“Back to the isle, Y/N. She’s not coming back.” Ben interrupted, running a hand through his hair in panic.

You stood up, stuffed your books in your bag and walked out of the library, Ben following. “What do you mean, she’s gone back to the isle? Why would she?”

Ben sighed in frustration. “I don’t know! Did she say anything to you today?”

You bit your lip, thinking. “Well... at lunch, when I left to go do work, she said that she’d miss me. Even though I would see her in sixth period. I just thought she was having an off day, not that she was planning to go back!” You started pacing, before stopping in front of Ben.

“What are we going to do?” you asked. Mal had become a close friend to you, and you didn’t want to lose her.

Ben stood up, face set in determination. “We’re going to get her back. Are you coming?”

Evie stood outside the old hideout, talking into the speaker. “Mal, can I just talk to you for a second?”

A second later, Mal’s voice came through it. “Go away!”

Evie sighed, turning away, but Carlos spoke up. “Guys. Where’s Ben and Y/N?”

Evie looked down the tunnel, where she saw a figure walking towards them. “Ben? Ben, don’t scare us like that!”

Harry Hook came into the light, a smirk on his face. “Don’t scare you? But that’s my speciality.” he grinned, his teeth bared menacingly.

Jay walked towards him threateningly. “What did you do with them?!”

Harry’s eyes widened in mock realisation. “Oh, yeah! We nicked them. And if you want to see them again, have Mal come to the chip shop tonight. Alone.” He laughed and walked away, leaving the three fuming behind him.

You and Ben were tied to each side of one of the mast, struggling in vain. Harry looked up from where he was sitting, and groaned. “Can you lot keep still? You’re like little fishies, wriggling away.” He paused, then winked at you. “You’re the prettier fishy, though. Name?”

You stayed silent, not wanting to give him any information. “Don’t tell him, Y/N!” Ben cried.

Harry laughed. “Y/N, hm? Seems like the little princey isn’t so smart after all.” You elbowed Ben, rolling your eyes. “That’s Princess Y/N to you, Hook.”

He pressed a hand to his heart in pain. “Hook? Why so formal, dear? Please, call me Harry.”

“Are you seriously flirting with her right now?!” Ben spluttered, incredulous, but Harry reached round and held a hand over his mouth, simultaneously getting closer to you.

“Hush, princey. This is between me and the princess.” Harry snapped, before plastering on a smirk.

You bit your lip, eyeing him. “Well...”

Ben’s eyes went wide, and Harry’s grin only intensified as he leaned ever closer. You leaned forward, and Harry’s eyes closed, his lips millimetres away from yours. You pouted, then jerked your knee up, whacking him in the balls. Harry yelled, jumping away from you. “What the fuck? I thought you were nice!”

Ben laughed, and you smirked at the groaning pirate. “Think again, Harry.”

Later on, after an exhausting fight, you hung back. “Y/N, come on!” Carlos called, knowing Mal was about to drop the smoke bomb.

You paused, looking back. “Wait a sec, I’ll be right back.” Running to Harry, you grabbed his shoulder and turned him around, his face settling into confusion. You grinned, leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “See you, Harry.” you whispered, before running back, leaving him baffled but happy. Uma whacked him on the arm. “What are you smiling for, idiot? They’ve gone!”

Harry stayed in the same spot, still staring after you. “No reason.”

ahhhahahhahahahthat was so shitt im so sorrryyyyyyyyy

#harry hook x reader #jamesdeerest writes

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tseneipgam · 4 years ago

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“The English have been sending missionaries to Africa and India and China and God knows where all, for over a hundred years. And the things they have brought back! We spent a morning in one of their museums and it was packed with jewels, furniture, fur carpets, swords, clothing, even tombs from all the countries they have been. From Africa they have thousands of vases, jars, masks, bowls, baskets, statues— and they are all so beautiful it is hard to imagine that the people who made them don't still exist. And yet the English assure us they do not. Although Africans once had a better civilization than the European (though of course even the English do not say this: I get this from reading a man named J. A. Rogers) for several centuries they have fallen on hard times. "Hard times" is a phrase the English love to use, when speaking of Africa. And it is easy to forget that Africa's "hard times" were made harder by them. Millions and millions of Africans were captured and sold into slavery— you and me, Celie! And whole cities were destroyed by slave catching wars.”

“She say. Miss Celie, You better hush. God might hear you. Let 'im hear me, I say. If he ever listened to poor colored women the world would be a different place, I can tell you.”

“Sinners have more good times, I say. You know why? she ast. Cause you ain't all the time worrying bout God, I say. Naw, that ain't it, she say. Us worry bout God a lot. But once us feel loved by God, us do the best us can to please him with what us like. You telling me God love you, and you ain't never done nothing for him? I mean, not go to church, sing in the choir, feed the preacher and all like that? But if God love me, Celie, I don't have to do all that. Unless I want to. There's a lot of other things I can do that I speck God likes. Like what? I ast. Oh, she say. I can lay back and just admire stuff. Be happy. Have a good time. Well, this sound like blasphemy sure nuff. She say, Celie, tell the truth, have you ever found God in church? I never did. I just found a bunch of folks hoping for him to show. Any God I ever felt in church I brought in with me. And I think all the other folks did too. They come to church to share God, not find God.”

“Shug a beautiful something, let me tell you. She frown a little, look out cross the yard, lean back in her chair, look like a big rose. She say. My first step from the old white man was trees. Then air. Then birds. Then other people. But one day when I was sitting quiet and feeling like a motherless child, which I was, it come to me: that feeling of being part of everything, not separate at all. I knew that if I cut a tree, my arm would bleed. And I laughed and I cried and I run all around the house. I knew just what it was. In fact, when it happen, you can't miss it. It sort of like you know what, she say, grinning and rubbing high up on my thigh. Shug! I say. Oh, she say. God love all them feelings. That's some of the best stuff God did. And when you know God loves 'em you enjoys 'em a lot more. You can just relax, go with everything that's going, and praise God by liking what you like. God don't think it dirty? I ast. Naw, she say. God made it. Listen, God love everything you love— and a mess of stuff you don't. But more than anything else, God love admiration. You saying God vain? I ast Naw, she say. Not vain, just wanting to share a good thing. I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it. What it do when it pissed off? I ast. Oh, it make something else. People think pleasing God is all God care about. But any fool living in the world can see it always trying to please us back. Yeah? I say. Yeah, she say. It always making little surprises and springing them on us when us least expect. You mean it want to be loved, just like the bible say. Yes, Celie, she say. Everything want to be loved. Us sing and dance, make faces and give flower bouquets, trying to be loved. You ever notice that trees do everything to git attention we do, except walk?”

“Why, she said, the signs are all over Africa. India too, I expect. First there's a road built to where you keep your goods. Then your trees are hauled off to make ships and captain's furniture. Then your land is planted with something you can't eat. Then you're forced to work it. That's happening all over Africa, she said. Burma too, I expect.”

“Samuel was so angry, I was frightened. He said the only thing for us to do, if we wanted to remain in Africa, was join the mbeles and encourage all the Olinka to do the same. But suppose they do not want to go? I asked. Many of them are too old to move back into the forest. Many are sick. The women have small babies. And then there are the youngsters who want bicycles and British clothes. Mirrors and shiny cooking pots. They want to work for the white people in order to have these things.Things! he said, in disgust. Bloody things'.

“Then he say something that really surprise me cause it so thoughtful and common sense. When it come to what folks do together with they bodies, he say, anybody's guess is as good as mine. But when you talk bout love I don't have to guess. I have love and I have been love. And I thank God he let me gain understanding enough to know love can't be halted just cause some peoples moan and groan. It don't surprise me you love Shug Avery, he say. I have love Shug Avery all my life. What load of bricks fell on you? I ast. No bricks, he say. Just experience. You know, everybody bound to git some of that sooner or later. All they have to do is stay alive. ”

“That's what these Olinka peoples say. But they say just like they know history before the white children start to come, they know the future after the biggest of 'em leave. They say they know these particular children and they gon kill each other off, they still so mad bout being unwanted. Gon kill off a lot of other folk too who got some color. In fact, they gon kill off so much of the earth and the colored that everybody gon hate them just like they hate us today. Then they will become the new serpent. And wherever a white person is found he'll be crush by somebody not white, just like they do us today. And some of the Olinka peoples believe life will just go on and on like this forever. And every million years or so something will happen to the earth and folks will change the way they look. Folks might start growing two heads one of these days, for all we know, and then the folks with one head will send 'em all someplace else. But some of 'em don't think like this. They think, after the biggest of the white folks no longer on the earth, the only way to stop making somebody the serpent is for everybody to accept everybody else as a child of God, or one mother's children, no matter what they look like or how they act.”

#book

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chac-ozai · 6 years ago

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Intent to Kill (Bruce Wayne x John Doe)

My first telltale batman ficlet! Vigilante Joker may be back behind Arkham’s bars, but the friendship he and Bruce cultivated could not be broken. Bruce comes to visit his best buddy in the asylum, but nothing could prepare him for what he finds. Tags: Angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, drug use

They weren't expecting him at all. Not many would consider Arkham asylum one of the finer attractions outside of Gotham, and even less would consider it a place where Bruce Wayne would frequent nearly twice a week. Paparazzi had a way of sniffing out every little detail in Bruce's life no matter how well he kept himself out of the public eye; ever since the public fiasco he'd endured with Waller, Cobblepot.

These visits, they made him feel sane. Bruce thought it was funny somehow, that he'd be parking his cherry-red coupe at Arkam's gates, a stark contrast against the hallowness of it's faded masonry. Feeling sane, at an insane asylum. Bruce had to smile, he couldn't contain it, thinking of the absurdity of his life and where his comforts lie.

He knew exactly where his friend stayed, the sound of his footsteps greeted with the dull roar of groaning, screaming. The Male ward was particularly active today it sounds, he hoped John wasn't too annoyed by it. Bruce fiddled with the gift he'd brought in his breast pocket, tucked away safely along with a small packet of Skittles. Anything he could do to make his friend's day he'd do, Bruce thought.

“Mr. Wayne!OH, I, huh, uh-” Hall C6's orderly looked shocked to see the billionaire's intimidating form standing in the doorway- “Visiting hours are cut short today, unfortunately. There's been an incident we have half of our staff cleaning up.” He looked nervous, moreso than a standard Arkham orderly should look.

“Incident? I'd ask, but considering your confidentiality, but-” Bruce peeked over the man's shoulders and spied upon John's door, locked tight. “I'm sure you can find the time and place for me? If only just for a few minutes.” Bruce's winning smile somehow couldn't get through to him, and apparently neither did his cash once the first attempt had gone under.

“I'm sorry Mr. Wayne, I'm under strict orders from Doctor Erickson, I can't let you in.”

“Well you could at least tell me if John Doe's okay?” Bruce felt annoyed, something very easy for him to feel these days. Pressure was building up between his temples and not getting his way was something rare.

“You said it yourself, confidentiality.” The orderly began the process of slowly closing the door on Bruce, a massive hand reaching out and holding it open. Bruce could hear a particularly intense, one-sided argument coming from a patient's room nearby, a garbled wail punctuating the air.

“You're avoiding the question. What's your name? Can I get a name?” Mr. Wayne's voice dropped-

“Larry. Why?”

“Can I speak to Dr. Erickson, Larry? How much is it going to cost for just a chat?”

“...” Larry looked at Bruce thumbing through his wallet, his mind harkening to the recent tax hike he'd endured this week. “I'll bring her right over, if you just give me a moment.” Larry took the 3 fresh hundreds and pocketed them, his lumbering self disappearing down the hall. When Larry returned, the familiar face of Dr. Erickson put Bruce in an immediate sense of dread.

“I just want to talk to John. Please.” Bruce implored. When he got a no, that's when he'd had enough of the standoff- “You do understand the more you turn me away and avoid my questions, the more suspicious I'm becoming. If this visit is going to be a problem, I can always take a visit to Mayor Dunham and see about lightening my monthly donations.”

“Mr. Wayne, you do understand this is highly illegal, what you're asking. Mr. Doe can't take visitors right n-”

“And why not?”

“He's asleep.”

“Let me through.” Bruce demanded, something wasn't right- The workers had made no attempt to physically restrain Wayne as he strode past them, something of an exasperated sigh coming from the Doctor.

“John!” Bruce stood at his door, the little paper notetag with his name on it affixed into his eyes. “John, it's me, Bruce.”

No answer. Bruce rapped his bare knuckles on the slot of the door and Dr. Erickson began to sweat.

“You see, he's asleep. Why don't you just come back tomorrow?”

“Open the door.”

You just couldn't say no to a man like Bruce. Erickson was past the point of calling security, he only gave the solemn nod to the orderly to unlock the bolt of John's door. Bruce's steady heartbeat almost fell out of rhythm when the room inside was still lit, the walls barren and bleak.

“John.” Bruce inched his way inside, untrusting of his friend's state. John, while normally bouncing off the walls in excitement to see his best friend, was as far from himself Bruce had ever seen. On the bed he lay sprawled, his cheap blanket barely covering a leg. Fuck, he looked dead until Bruce saw the uneven rise and fall of his chest.

“Hey, John!” Bruce fell to his knee beside the bed, reaching out and placing a warm hand on his forearm. He was clammy, but only a moment went by before John's eyes fluttered open, gazing wearily at Bruce's chest before laying half-lidded.

“What's wrong with him?” Wayne's anger spiked, peeking back in alarm at the doctor, who held fast to his stethoscope around his neck. Bruce knelt by John's bed and shook his shoulder, and what came out of his mouth shattered something inside Bruce- A hauntingly low moan, ending in a gargle. His eyes failed to focus on Bruce's face even though John knew his best buddy was there.

“Mr. Wayne-”

“John! Shit, get up! What happened to him?!” Bruce called out, two fingers placed beneath his jawline and felt his pulse, slow but steady. He tried to pull John up to sit but the man fell limp, Bruce seeing the pinpoints of his pupils inside his listless eyes. He knew right away what had happened- He placed John back down onto his bed and about-faced, rage in his eyes-

“Have you been overdosing him on sedatives?!” Bruce yelled “How many drugs do you have in him right now?! And you just leave him locked in his room unattended?!”

“Mr. Wayne! John had a violent outburst earlier today, we had no choice but to tranquilize him.”

“No shit he had a violent outburst! He's a sick man, what gives you the right to put him into a coma? What drugs do you have him on?! Let me see the charts.”

“Bruce,”

“If I don't get those reports, I'm filing a lawsuit that you cannot possibly win. What's it going to be? Your job, or his chart?”

“..I'll fetch them.” Erickson shuffled out, looking grim. Bruce practically dove to John's bedside and placed a hand under his head, trying in vain to lift it and inspect his face. His mouth hung open and saliva seeped freely across his cheek and into Bruce's hand.

“Ah, John.” Bruce groaned “I can't believe this shit.”

“Bbrruh..” John tried to speak, Bruce hushing him and flashing him a very fake smile.

“You're going to be alright. You can hear me, right?”

John gave no response. Bruce climbed into the bed and sat, cradling John's head in the crook of his elbow, turning his head as not to choke on his saliva. Bruce glared daggers at the orderly-

“You do realize you could have killed him.”

“He attacked three patients, we only followed protocol.”

“Yeah, protocol, and what is that? Pump them full of drugs and hope they don't wake up? That sounds like an easy way to get rid of a problem.”

“Mr. Wayne.” Erickson returned and felt his heart drop at the sight of John laying prone across the billionaire's lap. He handed the report over on shaking hands, knowing his career was on the line-

“Give me that.” Bruce's eyes scanned the first page of many beneath it. “Already I'm seeing malpractice. What's this, you haven't been taking his vitals in between his doses. Midazolam IM induction, Diazepam IM, Clozapine, Pentobarbitol?! And you just gave this to him all at the same time?!”

No response. Bruce looked down at John and saw that he was trying to open his eyes- he wasn't dying, but Bruce wasn't going to accept anything like this. The bat inside him wanted to beat everyone who did this to a bloody pulp, this was a fate worse than death for his best friend. His heart broke all the while he grew more frightening, placing John back on the bed while he waved the chart in the doctor's face.

“Is this how you handle your patients here?! Another milliliter and my friend could have been dead in his cell for hours and you wouldn't have even known!” Bruce's cheeks where red in fury, he shoved the doctor and the orderly out of the room, standing in the doorway as a barrier between them and John.

“I'm going to go over every page of these records, and I'm going to unleash hell on this hospital in ways you can't even imagine.” Bruce, taking control, slammed the door to the cell and approached John's bed, his throat tightening at the pitiful sight.

“Here I am, buddy. I'm not going anywhere.”

“Mhh.” John tried to squeak out, his eyes heavily glazed in his attempt to look up at Bruce. The larger man couldn't contain himself, he had everything inside him needing to climb into that bed beside him and embrace his friend.

“I've got you, John.” Bruce tries to comfort him, picking up the lanky man and nestling himself right at his side, letting John's pale arm lay across his chest. Jesus, he was cold as ice. Bruce placed his friend's head against his chest, an arm around his shoulder holding him steady as he shared his warmth.

“Is that alright? You comfortable?” What the hell was he supposed to say? Bruce was overwhelmed, hugging his friend tight to his side as he placed the clipboard on his stomach, thumbing back the page to yesterday's report.

The amount of drugs they'd put him on was insane. Bruce wasn't a medical doctor but he knew most of these drugs, powerful antipsychotics and anticonvulsants. The amount of benzos they pumped him full of the past few days was legitimately cruel, it could have taken a horse down. Bruce felt a warm wetness on his chest, John's eyes where open but he was drooling freely onto his shirt, something Bruce entirely ignored.

He saw something there, 2 days ago and recorded at 12:15pm, John had apparently received a dose of flumazenil in an apparent “emergency” noted in the chart. So it was true, they had been overdosing John.... Bruce's heart ached. He cradled John a little closer and felt the noise in his chest better than he heard it. Wayne's memory flashed back to the crazy times they had, how Bruce had used him despite his sincere desire to save him. He really does like John, he is a good friend, no matter how sick he is.

“I'm going to get you out of here. I promise, John.” Bruce tells his buddy, patting his shoulder. John's hand grasped at his collared shirt in response and all Wayne wanted to do was mourn. It wasn't truly his fault John is back in Arkham, but thinking of his father and what he'd done to these desperate souls, he knew he could change things.

John had to get out of here, every tortured individual in here deserves better, no matter how dangerous they are. Bruce's heart was filled with a sensation of justice, but it wasn't Batman's work...it was his own. The camera affixed on him be damned, Bruce leaned in and kissed the top of John's head in a vain attempt at something, whatever it took to get to fix this.

#Batjokes #batman #telltale #joker #john doe #bruce wayne #fanfiction #fanart #john doe x bruce wayne #batman x joker #my gay art

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alphawolfdad · 7 years ago

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the lost one

Caesar sleepily strolled through the quite house, it was Saturday night which meant ro and kain were out most likely up to no good. With a small smile Caesar grabbed his leather jacket ready to go to work, usually since it was Saturday he wouldn’t go but since he got an urgent call on such a quite night he decided to go ahead and help out. Starting up his bike and driving off to the location the caller gave him the house wasn’t far away, it was weird that it was in the middle of nowhere but he gave it no thought. As he drove up to the creaky old mansion Caesar got a feeling of dread, the house wasn’t just old it was ancient it looked like no one had lived there for years. But hey a jobs a job Caesar thought to himself as he knocked on the door which was slightly ajar, being polite he didn’t just want to walk in. he called out hoping the owners would answer “hello I’m here to fix your bike”, no answer and this is when he should have left. Everything within Caesar told him to turn around and mind his business; with a sigh he walked in he didn’t want to just leave a job and have a customer compliant filed against him (this would have been the first). Caesar walked through the house and as he did so he noticed a lot of circus awards and props everywhere along with what seemed like tools for hunting and hunting awards. Okay that was his red flag to get out of there as he tried to run to the exit someone stopped, stand in the door way was a tall slender dark haired man who slowly shut the door. “You’re not going anywhere, wolf man” before Caesar could transform he felt a pain in his lower back, he doesn’t remember much after that all he remembers is waking up in a cage but he wasmt alone he heard a child crying in the cage next to him and a woman trying to hush the child. Caesar sat up as panic started to settle in looking around he could see that the cage he was in was oddly enough double barred, the child’s crying got louder as he stood to his feet a little dizzy but nothing he couldnt handle. As Caesar looked into the cage that the crying was coming from he saw a small woman with brown hair in the corner holding a child she looked just as scared as the little girl, a low growl rumbled in his throat like roaring thunder he hated to see someone so young so unhappy. With a deep sigh he calmed himself he didn’t want to act unreasonably, evaluating the situation he decided to help the poor woman “excuse miss what is this place can you tell me anything about where we are” he asked his words dripping with sincerity. Apparently the woman spoke very little English she sounded Romanian or Russian, “I don’t know where we are,” she said slowly walking toward Caesar the child seemed more calm now that she knew Caesar wouldn’t hurt her. But she still seemed afraid as the mother walked forward; Caesar gave her a happy grin as he stuck his hand through the bars to welcome her. The little girl had brown hair brown eyes and looked no more than 3 years old, Caesar didn’t like that a little girl in a cage what kind of monster are they he thought to himself. “Can you tell me anything” he asked the woman, she nodded taking a seat “but there is a lot to tell” she said. The woman told Caesar how she is a white furred werewolf that came from sinaia, Romania she has been with them for 4 years they got her when she was 4 weeks pregnant she didn’t find out until she was at least 5 months, “these people they run a circus for what they call freaks, me and my mate were separated he fought them to get to me and protect me and they killed him” by the end of the ladies story the little girl had went up to the bar playing with Caesar hand. Caesar looked at the woman she looked like she hadn’t slept in years and that she needed a hug and a good meal, Caesar looked at her and then at the little girl “im going to get you out of here” he said “but you have to trust me, you might want to back up” he said. Caesar took a deep breath transforming into his beast form and bending the bars where the cages met, the little girl screamed as he walked past to the other side of their cage bending those bars too. Putting a finger to his lips he said “follow me but quietly”, the mother scooped up her daughter in her arms and ran out of the cage. Once out they snuck through the creaky old house when they were almost out they came to the living room, the front door was just on the other side and then they were home free. But the problem was the living room was full of hunters, the woman turned to Caesar handing him the little girl “you risked your life for us now it’s our turn to return the favor, I can’t let my baby grow up like this take care of her” she said kissing her little girl tears streaming down her face she hushed the child’s whimpers for her mother if Caesar wasn’t afraid that the hunters would hear them he would have protested. He watched her transform her white fur like silk she ran through the house making as much noise as she could getting the hunters attention, Caesar ran through the now empty living room crying child in hand he didn’t feel right leaving the mother. he was going to turn back until the dreaded sound of gunshots and then dead silence all that was left was the quite cries of what he could now assume was a little orphan girl, Caesar ran to his bike holding the little girl tight he rode back home as fast as he could so they would not be found and her mother’s death not in vain. About half way through the ride the girls cries stopped he felt so bad for the kid, well Caesar you’re a father again he thought. Holding on to Caesar the little girl looked up to the night sky with curious eyes twinkled with wonder and amazement, “da” she said caesar looked down into her eyes and he nodded “yes da” he said.

mun: alright guys here it is caesar is a father again baby lily rose wont get her own blog but you can interact with her on caesar blog or ros blog sometimes i will post more on her later or i might just do a whole bio on her too but heres she is

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ecotone99 · 5 years ago

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[MF] A teaser of what it may eventually end up being a novel

Well, first Hi! this is my first post here (so, sorry if im not used to the full lenght of rules and stuff).

English is also not my first language, So I spent the last 3 hours trying to translate this little thing in something readable, sometimes with the help of a translator, so, sorry if there an inconsistency here and there, limited vocabulary or something just... off (yo can obviously criticize it too so I can do it better next time, but my focus is the story per se)

Anyway, the story is based on a dream I had a weeks ago, involving a grim future for my old TRPG character. I hope you find something of it enjoyable!

optional Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1vhfXiym9iiIwvtJgPKXvHjPkIeUnBBhd6_-g_2R0JPg/edit?usp=sharing

- … This old factory should do - huffed Marcus with a trembling voice - That shelving over there seems to be out of sight enough. You guys should hop in and get some sleep

We all nodded, trying our best to rest.

To my right, John tried to cheer Sean, locked in his eternally taciturn semblance. I ignored if Sean thought that rediscovering each other in a place and time like this was inappropriate, or if his seriousness simply hid a mousy child in the body of an adult. Or maybe I was just projecting my own thoughts and concerns on them. Who knows?

As an answer, Sean simply muttered something unintelligible and turned his body out of my sight.

John made a grimace and looked at me

- You. Specially you, should get some rest too, Anon - For ...Months? Years? All my life? I've spent a so long without talking, that the name stuck with me, after that time on which they tried to guess my birth-given one for the first time in a jolly gust of timid laughter. They gave up, calling me “anonymous”, and “Anon” stayed, almost like an insignia of our path interlacing. - Don’t listen to that jackass, just close your eyes. We will be fine.

My whole silent answer was staring at him bluntly, ignoring his concern for me, and continued sitting on my own legs, using the stinging pain as a catalyst for my concentration. It wasn’t working.

- Use this - Said a voice climbing the shelving, handing me the bucket in her little hands and urging me to use my “second vision” on the water and oil paints she found and poured in. It was Mariah. A little girl we found on the road and that, despite having taken me as an “old sis” and mimic me, she was obviously too young to rely on. I didn't trust her.

I simply leaned over my side, releasing some of the pressure on my legs and her constant wounds, and observed the countless patterns of colors, overlapping one on top of the other, and taking me, partially, to that distant and treacherous place that was the “future”.

It was strange, without a doubt. The visions. Despite their symbolism, they felt so… real. And yet, I was well are of my own eyeballs crossing over and over, as if each one decided on following a pattern on its own. I was vaguely aware of the heavy breathing coming from Sam, to my right, and his need for an inhaler we couldn't provide. And of course, I was aware of the frank concern coming from Mariah in front of me. What was about that kid that made me feel so uneasy? I couldn't tell

Soon I wasn't there at all. I was still at the factory, but the darkness of sunset wrapped the place on a mantle of shadows. A double edged blade.

I observed through the windows, but instead of ruins, that place was exuberant with life; Bags and boxes all over the relatively unpolluted place, surround machinery that rather than dead seemed to just be catching breath for work on the next day. Among the rust - on where the rust was supposed to be, a moment ago - a head rushed in my field of vision, whispering something I couldn't quite grasp, almost as if I was trying to hear that voice underwater, but interpreted as danger and urge. So I woke up the unfortunate lovebirds on my right. Only that “second” Mariah, looking me worried through that veil that muffled her words, gave away the unhappy secret that was realizing that world wasn’t real. Through the veil, not only voices but faces blurred too, and bodies had a strange nuance of hue on them, as if time wasn’t sure on which speed to move. But I could have accepted all that as real If I really tried with all I had. I wonder why I had never done that; Surrendering myself entirely to that place and live the infinite possibilities of an uncertain future, until my body consumed itself in the present. I thought about it, while a little unruly voice in the back of my head tried to remind me of the past.

Ignoring that third-layer of thoughts, I doubled my efforts and the vision became more clear.

In silent despair, we observed how countless soldiers surrounded us from every angle, only betrayed by the friction of their clothing, and that strange light slicing darkness in half and giving away the rest of their team, one after the other, while our panic grew like a boiling red-hot ball of steel in our throats.

We ran as fast as we could without revealing ourselves, but we knew that sooner or later the creak of the metal, or the rustle of the boxes that so generously hid us would give us away. Sooner or later our sounds would reach the ears of our foes, so, While pointing at the exit, Marcus sprinted in the other direction, trying to get their attention and give us an opening.

Skidding, yet avoiding all the shots so far, he retraced his steps, tossing shelvings and its content away indiscriminately to hinder the soldiers, but they were flooding the place in droves, threatening with ambush him sooner rather than later. I bit my lip and pledged to avoid that sacrifice.

While impeding guilt started to creep in, one of the soldiers managed to find us through his scope. About to suffer the same fate as our most recent saviour, John interceded just in time, hushing our sentence with a kick and a crack.

We crossed the door and ran. We crossed walls, just to find more and higher walls. More vast areas, more exuberant trees and buildings, and with each step more and more people. We were getting close to that city downton, and a nightly festival seemed to welcome us.

Panting, we tried to blend in the crown, but we were sticking out too much. The looks of the locals perched in us more times that I would have tolerated normally if I were alone. But two hands firmly squeezed my wrist as a warning, and we continued our walk of shame, dirty, ragged and exhausted, through the crowd. We passed by multitude of people and food stands, and I think even our destiny, because Mariah suddenly gasped something in her native language that I couldn't understand.

It sounded like a warcry full of pain.

And the soldiers surrounded us.

In reality, I was vaguely noticing the tears of rage falling down my cheek, while Mariah, the authentic, landed her strangely cold hand on my arm, taking me out of my stupor with the shock. I tried to control my anger, rooting down in so many levels that I couldn't even justify them anymore, in vain.

Like scoffing us, Marcus climbed up to us, letting those eyes full of scars for everyone to see.

- We are surrounded.

Despite the sunlight still high in the sky, I knew what that meant to us, and it wasn’t good. Panicking, I ignored Marcus words and refuses his future sacrifice jumping down to the floor. Mariah tried to follow me, but she tripped with a cable. I stood there in shock for a second, but then acridly accepted that some things cannot be changed and kept running.

Trying to stay out of the sight of the soldiers through the windows and the countless doors that had collapsed in that place over the years, I saw, briefly, how Marcus urged Mariah to climb again, but there was no more time. John and Sean took each others hands and jumped out of my field of vision. I couldn’t see any of them anymore, nor I could go back. All I heard were shots and shouting, witnesing how both started to fade and become more and more infrequent. My panic grew higher, but I was able to control my breathing, and without looking back managed to outflank most of the guards, thanks to my size. It did not looked like they had my description, so it would be a while before they realized one of us was missing.

That was my chance. I crossed the lintel of the window, taking one piece of the broken glass while ignoring the pain, and moved on. Most of the soldiers were already inside the factory, or taking care of what I knew deep inside now were probably no more than the inert carcasses that were once my friends.

But a soldier remained, almost in front of me. I never knew if it was there to check every possible exit fulfilling his duty, or was left behind to lace his boots but it didn’t matter anymore. When he saw me, like a shadow, I jumped on to him slicing his throat, while the shard of glass carved deeper into the flesh of my palm, in protest. I considered taking their car, but that would have been very stupid and the death of that soldier meaningless, and less than silent.

While considering my options, and imperative and deep shout rumbled inside the factory sending a chill down my spine. They probably saw me or the dead soldier. So I started running.

I ran and ran, and ran desperate between the hills of that narrow street, cursing my short legs, swearing over my wounds, old and new, and blaspheming all kind of profanities over my luck and cowardly. But when I finally looked back, despite being able to hear them in the distance, I saw no soldier behind. It was my chance!

“You are alone… again.”

I ignored the gloomy thoughts and kept running, this time at a more inconspicuous way that allowed me to conceal my wounds and catch my breath again. I looked over each and every house, trying to find a suitable one to hide, but mostly I only found walls, tall metal fences, dead ends and dogs on the other side. Neither would make for a clean getaway. Not in time. Definitely not without leaving a huge blood trail. I squeezed my hand even harder against my chest and let out a frustrated sob, just when I saw a home with the gates wide open, almost as an invitation.

I knew it was risky, and perhaps even obvious, but I crossed over to that garden without further hesitation, and encompassing the house I started to think once more on my options. It was then when I heard little screams. Startled at first, but nostalgic not long after, realizing they came from several childrens playing and running around. It must have been a birthday party.

They hadn’t see me yet. Should I just simply open the door and beg for asylum? Maybe hide in their furniture? None of those options had a happy ending in my head. While I saw a little girl that could not be more than four, hugging someone that could not be other than her mother, I used the last of my strength, and with eyes blurred by effort and tears, I climbed to the roof.

But apparently life is never that kind, and luck stroke me greatly, when I saw the little girl say something and point at me directly through the window. However I was too weak to deal with it, and never knew if someone else than the little girl managed to see me.

Not like it mattered anymore, sooner or later the soldiers would get with my trail and cross their path with that family. And what would happen then when a little kid described the person that killed one of their own? I did not wanted to give them more means to find me, nor I wanted to check what those bastards decided to do with the witnesses.

I jumped from roof to roof, almost as if my time suspended in the air was trying to match the weight on my heart and the little content of my stomach. The back of my head was barely aware of the fact that those modern roofs were starting to get partly replaced with wood and clay tiles, filling the outline of my sight with nostalgia.

“Just a little more…”

About to fall more than once, my grip on those surfaces started to get ferocious, while I lost the one I had on reality. One last jump, and without realizing when, suddenly there was only void under my feet, as I landed on the hill of the home that saw me grow.

Bewildered, I walked down that rocky grassland, but the steps became a trot, and those irregular strides were soon replaced by jubilous little howls, in a body a bit older and more impatient than the one left behind to run down the hill. And as I ran, I hopped over the rocks, even skipping some, and trying to jump as high as I could to look over the chasm of my little mountain. For the first time in a long time I was laughing out loud again, immersed in my little memory.

Before long, I approached the big tree. And old oak under which two families were celebrating something I couldn't recall. Eating together, while the breeze caressed each of the present faces, promising Spring.

By the time someone noticed me, I was already in between the group of elders. A kid, somewhat younger than me at the time came to meet me. But my ardour laid elsewhere, and I took the advantage of a big boulder, to jump over him and grab one of the lower branches of the tree. In the end, it took me a few attempts, but I made it.

Of course, what I wanted wasn’t to climb the tree per se, I knew that eventually the branches would end up being too thin to hold my weight, and the foliage would have hindered the view either way, no; What I wanted was but that little treasure that caught the corner of my eye and I refused to let go. Just a couple more jumps, and before I realized, the little slugbunny was in my hands. White as snow to camouflage in the winter, despite its fast fur adaptation to the environment, it wasn't quick enough to avoid the surprise of an early spring, as the tree leaves became a delatory red.

Without much effort, I tried to twist his neck, but my hands were too small, and the animal were struggling too hard. However, just before I lost my prey, the kid came to me and offered his help. He finished his suffering off while I held the body, now motionless, that I showed off like a trophy to the elders, that ended up sighing and scolding me, but also laughing and cherishing my skills.

The afternoon went by faster than I thought, and the apprehension of forgetting something important was long one. Under the ebbing sun, the boy took some courage and with it my hand, taking me where his words couldn't be heard by the rest of his family.. He promised me… what was he saying?

I couldn't make out the words, and the wind now howling along the birds, carrying dust and leaves with it, forced me to squint my eyes. Ours met, and I knew who that kid was, and everything else came back to my head in a rush, like a bucket of cold water.

When I woke up, I was lying on a prairie, much different from the one that lit up the memories of my childhood. Dirty, mauled but surprisingly relatively intact. At least no broken bones that I could tell. I observed how the sunset contrasted with the summit I jumped from while running away, several meters above me, and that building that last saw me loose consciousness, now without a trace of those old clay tiles on wooden roofs. Much less the people that already had their last breath long ago. Now that I was awake, I wondered if those crimson bricks were the only witnesses of my fall…

Not without effort, I got up in my feet, and continued my way.

submitted by /u/simonbleu [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2SgMYB0

#Blogger #Story

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libidomechanica · 6 years ago

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Untitled Poem # 5006

Of wrinkles the while we hid by the fingertaps and power, bring night— the hubbub—you and yet the

feel it dark the meant hold that one that gave and cut them answered the heart, Her hearts united, upon that bright foot can say to think thee alone. let all mine— why am I kidding? Our heart. Temptation. And brought me the day I die her sphere let them out, so I vnto my thousand life ends in vain. Your second and we went, fright euen to be, for all: and through three cherry hearts were there, more than could see me on the can’t dare look’d up in shade them answere and other did it

all itself indeed, in monstrous garb with a meek embrace the day come: if not, comforts be, when thou owest; nor ought, where footprints, I poke them hears the swallows, borne as dullest himself so beauties blushed alone. As virtuous; what way, I found he stayed, dived downe the nails; we rubbed, sheenless was they are, or, seeing hitherto those in me, my sister, with eyes may weep, nor did hush the Head to say: last night like a dread the lass that you do lie frae her like was true grows those loved, remain on hand, made of Netherby ne’er Misfortune meaning wind. The sea, the hunted so, to speakes and the impalpable and spake most shall be worn out, my faltering rose of hands, precious Honour’s the sake whom a far-off sails, He loved, red roses an hundred: so kiss me, and gentle sleep with mine, Life my love her, and I feel romantic. “ton entanglée. said he, the snowy handled, nor a clouds bedimme my Longing; he came. And that which it is, woods decay, the soon awake out of hate? The took his memory them thus; thou doest attempt to Tim’s year that on this day: now day is done, o’erspread would I love! A message that Loues spur, the minutes fly post-haste; tho world and so by tilth and basket of my life to follow was arise, to honor those laurels forth the chains and then,” said she to bed, all wreath, or war, have that al the due prevailed on her, might suffice Of silver why so will speeds to the fruit being brass, does naturally; but it long and done. to fill help themselves had opens but changes, but she heraldry become that kisses swayed: Ay— there and more, much a calendar could weene some show to moue; o let there had opened ears, which holds what we lover, as her shall she knelt and your wish’d-for end us, who now and, like the this, the world is charms, faded their boots; there was left us first and tumbling at the Banquo’s offsprings, and naked feet were empty bottle are love can I but rarely come: if not,—only troubles me: but a wintry so far I could rob the first you’llmount all I’m made longer

mourning glow, and drawn onward in which great rings; changed my five hundred those pleasured me. That wonder if he rued the rosy shadows.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #314 texts

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writinggeisha · 6 years ago

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Chapter 3: Reader Question : Description

Hey guys, (just a heads up, for a quick summary of tips you can just skip to the end of the chapter!)

In chapter three of 'oh my gods I can't believe you're actually reading something I once wrote when seriously sleep deprived' we are going to discuss how you can make descriptions work for you. I got this nifty question right here from a guest named Celeste :

First off im kind of making a 'crack' ship of two of my OCs. My problems are like when should I stop describing them? I tend to go on and on about it. Ive already decided to leave out some characters and have a bit of a storyline. Its just I need to know when to stop.

Also, terribly sorry Celeste but seeing as how you were on guest I couldn't really reach you other than posting a new chapter in this guide. I really do hope that you'll see this eventually.

Okay, so I can hear you thinking : weren't you like, the person who told us that excessive descriptions are bad? Well yeah, I was but I was mostly talking about wardrobe (and I'm also an idiot who does very little physical description in her own work but hush). Doesn't mean you can't make it work for you. If you are a bit of description nut it can be hard to kick the habit. Instead of going cold turkey you can use the stuff you are describing to show how your characters function, something which works great when working with Original Characters. I'm going to be level with you all, usually I describe my characters as little as possible. I mean, I drop clues every once in a while but I'm all about the action and plot. This doesn't mean I can't help you however.

The first thing what you do is know what your character looks like, something which Celeste has already done. Then you decide which elements are important and how you will introduce them. Note that the how is very important here because some tropes have been done so often they get boring. The trope you'll really want to avoid when describing characters is your character describing themselves. You know what I mean, they'll be looking in the mirror and start listing of traits.

Stop.

The problem with this is that it will practically always push you in two categories of characters. The vain or the I'm actually pretty but I don't see it myself.

The problem with a vain character is fairly simple. As people we generally don't tend to like others who are too self-absorbed. If a person looks in a mirror and all they see is how perfect the arch of their lips is and how their cheekbones catch the light so beautifully, we'll roll our eyes and be like 'sure babe'. On the other side of the spectrum is the character that is actually quite pretty but they themselves don't notice it. You would think this is a personality upgrade, and in some ways it is. But seriously? This trope again? Not to mention this is also the kind of person who deflects every compliment aimed at them. This reeks of false modesty, and there is no shame in admitting someone is at least decent to look at. You'll want to aim for a middle ground, and truth be told, it's very hard to hit the sweet spot. I suggest staying away from mirrors on the whole. (not you as a person of course. I mean, I check the mirror as well to see if my hair is in place or if I managed to spill sauce over my clothes. That's what they are for. That and checking my eyebrow game. But I digress.)

Avoid the information dump. That is where you get aaaaaaall of the information about a character in one paragraph. It's age and height and weight and color preferences and food preferences and what sort of people they like, but also their clothing preference and... do you get tired from imagining having to say all of that the first time you meet someone? I probably mentioned this before but try spreading information out in the story by mixing it in with your narrative. And instead of giving exact heights, give their height relevant to other characters (though it doesn't hurt to know the exact measurements yourself, your audience just doesn't need to know).

Honestly speaking, Celeste, we never stop giving information about our characters. The point is to do it subtly. There is also a difference between describing them and characterisation (something which quite often gets confused).

When you say you can't stop describing your characters, I imagine you're talking about the clothes and their physical appearance. Which raises the question, how peculiar looking are they? Let's take a look at one of the more popular books of our time, good ol' Harry Potter (belonging to JK Rowling). This is how Harry is first described in the books.

"Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright-green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Sellotape, " [book 1, chapter 2]

If you think that is sparse, try on Ron for size. "He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose." [book 1, chapter 6] (they're not even mentioning that he's a redhead!)

And to finish up, here's Hermione.

She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth. [book 1, chapter 6]

These are the primary descriptions, something for your audience to hold on to while they are waiting for more information. During the story we get to know more about them but this is the first introduction. During a first introduction you want to give the audience what an average person would see when someone passes by on the street. When someone walks by we'll usually notice these things : color of clothing or lack of color and any distinct facial characteristics like beards or tattoos or whatever. After that, on closer inspection comes eyebrows and the like, maybe shoes. And only after that comes the really detailed stuff, like a weird ring or an odd button on their coat. Their conversation partner might only notice those things while they're having a cup of coffee two hours later. Which is good, because those details also signify new things about the other character. That punk rock fan might be wearing a Hello Kitty wrist watch, but you only see it from a certain angle. The serious looking secretary actually has multiple ear piercings, but the way she wears her hair makes it so you can only see it when it's in an updo.

What you do want to do is making sure you're giving the information at an appropriate time. When two people are discussing politics it doesn't make much sense for the conversation partner to suddenly compliment someone on their shoes (thanks, they're new!), but they will notice when someone else is wearing a pride badge or something like that (omg I just said something insulting and now I probably pissed them off). When two teens are talking they're most likely to notice things that signify common interests (I totally love that band and you're wearing their t-shirt?).

When your characters have known each other for a longer time, they'll notice other things about each other. A character can comment on a difference in looks or the lack of difference (this is the first time I've ever seen you wear an orange shirt! Why are you wearing cargo pants in this weather? You're wearing that Puka shirt again?) . When they're observing the other character they might think stuff like 'I wish my hair was so curly! or If there's one guy who manages to make unwashed shirts look cool it's him'.

You know what a really cool trick is? Characterisation through description.

By now you know your characters. I mean, like really know them. A is pretty uptight and prissy while B never gets enough sleep but does know how to cook really well. Just like how you can tell a lot about people by how they dress (or at least you think you can) you can do the same for characters. The uptight character might have a preference for fancy sweaters and there's hardly ever a crinkle in them, which shows others that she takes good care of them. Character B is often seen with a mug of coffee and food stains on his pants because he always forgets to put on an apron. The secretary has fiery red nails, which could be an indicator of her personality. The girl who wears her hair in a messy bun might either be a real fashionista (have you ever tried it? I fail every time T.T) or she's always in a hurry because she's a chronic oversleeper, meaning she doesn't have the time for anything fancy. The boy with the bag full of books obviously likes reading while the bandaids on his fingers indicate he's a bit of a klutz. The jock who's an ace at basketball is never seen without a lollipop, indicating quite the sweet tooth. Her girlfriend on the other hand is usually seen with remnants of flour in her hair because she bakes cookies every day.

What I'm trying to say is, you can keep adding description to your characters. But don't dump all the info on your readers in one go, and don't mention things that wouldn't make sense in the context. If you feel like taking it to the next level you can add details to hint at character traits that aren't mentioned straight out.

Quick cheat sheet :

Information dumps = big no no Character describing themselves should be avoided if possible Character description and details vary by conversation partners and situation. Different people notice different things Use details to hint at character traits (bandaids could mean klutzy, but also just good at sports or they often defend friends from bullies)

If there's any other questions you may have, or if you'd like a reference excerpt, just ask ^^ I'm happy if this helps even one person.

Also, remember that this is just my own way of doing things. Some of it may not work for you, and that's okay. Writers all grow in different ways and at different paces. Only you can write like you were meant to do.

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