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thequeenrains · 3 years ago

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A Night to a Decade of Faith

Tags: late night walks; burnout; autumn stuff idk skkssks you'd get what i mean if you'd give it a read :>

Summary: hiro struggled with a lot of things, getting into sfit was just one. surviving it was another. a walk, he reckoned, would help with his mental state. however, little did he know, a soul would come to give him clarity... and also a little patience for a decade of waiting

Word Count: 2737

College—my, Hiro thought it was going to be just easy. He thought that it was just all about finessing your output, and with the simplest one, he could easily impress his professors.

But he was wrong. It was far from being easy. High school always had his name as the top student—the best student, actually. Which got him to accelerate and advance further than those who are of his age. It was simple to get on top of everything. College, however—the exact opposite.

He feels like he's behind of his game. No matter how hard he studies, no matter how hard he grinds, it just doesn't feel as if he's excelling anymore. And as someone who wasn't used to this sort of feeling, he feels kinda trashy to say the least.

And it was one of those days, where burnout got the best of him.

7 o'clock, his clock read. The cursor on the screen blinked, waiting to be moved by his hands that kept running through his hair for more than he could count. Frustration bubbled down from within, and he feels the need to lash out.

Sighing heavily, he tried to look at it from another angle, however, the more he looked, the less he found coherency. Out of frustration, he pushed himself out of his swivel chair and up the stairs to his room.

His project was actually due tomorrow, and because of midterms from last week, he felt really burned out and empty of any sort of brilliancy.

All this is too tiring, he thought of himself.

But he didn't want to fail.

Not finishing that project would mean jeopardizing his midterm grades, and he doesn't want that to happen. But he also just couldn't find it in himself to go and actually start it out because there were no ideas coming.

And so, in a quick spiral he went, going through a lot of things at once before actually grasping the full meaning of his thoughts that kept plaguing his mind.

Too absent minded, he dragged himself out of bed, grabbed his jacket, and made a beeline to the front door. He didn't bother saying goodbye to his Aunt, who was still busy manning the cashier despite the late hour.

The cold city air immediately greeted him, with the soft buzzing of the cars zooming in the distance, and the occasional honks of mad drivers in the street—yup, this was San Fransokyo.

He held his jacket closer to his body as he turned to a random direction. The city was still pretty much alive at this hour, with some of the streets clogged with vehicles rushing to get home, or to wherever their destination may be. Strangers pushed passed him, yet he was pretty much a walking corpse in the middle of a lively crowd, he let them.

He was reaching a point in his walk where his brain shut down all the thoughts. Mindlessly, he continued to wander on to a city where his inner musings were drowned with the humming of the evening life. Only then did he found himself in the middle of a silent road, dimly lit with street lamps and quaint lanterns hung in ununiformed directions.

For a moment, he was worried that he stumbled on a way to the cat alley where he used to go bot fighting. However, upon further inspection, he noticed that it was not the same. Sighing, he was about to try and trace his way back home when his stomach grumbled in hunger. Which then reminds him he didn't eat anything for lunch, and also dinner.

And so, off he went to look for a diner, only to slap himself on the forehead because he didn't bring any change with him. Well, he couldn't entirely blame himself, his mental state wasn't on the most optimal.

Footsteps sounded from behind him, and on instinct, he turned to see a cute looking girl in a black leather jacket approaching him.

She held a cup of takeaway from an open shop nearby, the smell wafting unto Hiro's nostrils, causing his stomach to churn. Letting out a discreet sigh, he just turned around and tried to mentally retrace his footsteps.

The smell grew closer and closer, and Hiro's mind only circled unto that, grasping it like it was the only coherent thing around. He mentally slapped himself for only focusing on the food instead of trying to remember the path that he took for him to get here.

"You lost?" A soft voice questioned. He turned, only to see the same girl that he had seen a moment ago.

"I—" he was speechless, embarrassed even. Because the idea just sunk in, he got lost in his own city. And it's pretty poetic, too.

With a soft smile, she immediately got her answer, "No one stumbles here unless they're actually sure that this is their stop. You new here?" She tilted her head to the side, sending him a questioning look.

"I actually live here but—" his statement was cut off when his stomach loudly grumbled, embarrassing him in front of the cute girl in front of him. She hummed before offering him the treat she had.

One by which he, hesitating, gently accepted from her grasp.

"Uh, thanks."

She smiled, the most charming he ever saw someone smile for possibly his whole life. "Anytime, now let me help you find your way back. Trying to navigate this area is quite of a pain if you ask me, you might get even more lost. You're from the main, right? Looks like you kinda wandered a bit too far out because the city's kind of a walk from here." With that, they begin walking back, retracing Hiro's steps.

"Uh, thanks," he uttered, digging in on the food she had with her.

"You're welcome. You okay, though?" She asked, hugging her jacket closer to her body as the cold air blew passed them, softly shaking the lanterns that contributed the soft glow of the area.

"M'fine," he answered simply, looking down at his shoes.

Her gaze lingered a bit before turning back to the road, "Doesn't look like it," she uttered. "You seemed kinda lost. Although, if you don't want to tell me, it's fine. I won't pry."

He let out a breath, white vapors escaping unto the atmosphere formed, "Just kinda burned out," Hiro replied, "but that doesn't matter anyway."

She guided him to a turn and into an open road, "Hmm, high school?"

He opened his mouth to reply, eyeing both sides of the road before crossing along the pedestrian, "College."

With that, she paused and threw him a gaze, her mouth slightly parted in shock from the unexpected information, "Okay, first off, I wasn't expecting a kid as young as you to be in college."

He only slightly chuckled at her response, he got that a lot so he was used to it. "Well, my brother forced me to go to college actually. "

She hummed, the tone a bit disdainful. "He sounds kinda boring," she commented, to which Hiro only laughed at.

He refuted her statement, "No, no. The opposite, actually. But sometimes, he could get a bit... protective?"

"Hmm, what does he do then?" The both of them paused in front of a stop light, waiting for the lights to go red.

"He actually studies at SFIT."

"Wow. I take back what I said. He sounds cool," she smiled, "And where do you study, then?"

"SFIT," he casually replied before crossing the road, almost leaving his companion behind, the latter with wide eyes.

This kid's a genius, she mentally remarked as she caught up with his long stride.

"Okay, wow. I heard it's hard getting in there?"

"Well, I'm not sure with the other programs but with robotics, you just have to think of a good invention that'll impress the judges and the professors—"

She felt something inside her head, something that resembled the sound of a lightbulb lighting up, "You're in the robotics program?"

"Uh, yeah."

Aw, he's cool, she thought.

With a smile, she spoke in awe, "Okay, wow. Like how do you get your life sorted just like that?"

He threw her a side-glance, "What do you mean?"

She gave a little shrug, "Like, you people actually know what you want to do in life, huh?"

"Well, actually, about that... It took me a while to know what I want to do in life. But it only took my brother's convincing and tour around the lab to get me to decide," he replied.

"And what about you? What do you do? You know, you're not supposed to be talking to strangers. I could've murdered you," he teasingly said.

"I like to take my chances. And says you! I could've poisoned you," she teasingly retorted.

"But you didn't."

"Some poison takes time to react with the body," he almost stopped in shock. Upon noticing his slowly blanching features, she laughed. "Oh my gosh, chill! I didn't, and why would I be leading you to a crowded place then?"

"But yeah. I really don't know what I want to do in life. I don't feel like I belong to anything. Dropped out of high school because of those bullies, and also, because of my teachers and stuff. And yeah, I'm just literally floating around, existing..."

"You'll eventually find out what you want to do in life. Just give it time. I'm not entirely sure with mine but well, here we are."

"Do you love what you do?"

"Yeah, don't get me wrong but it's just really stressful to always be up my game all the time. I also have other responsibilities aside from just being a student," he sighed, pulling her back from almost hitting a lamp post, "okay, careful there."

"Close call, thanks."

"But yeah, you get it."

"Well, when was the last time you had fun?" She asked.

"I don't remember," he replied.

"Well, that's exactly what you need—I know a place! C'mon, it's gonna be great!"

With that, the two of them changed directions. How they managed to establish a slither of trust and bond in that small moment, they don't know. But they were sure that they were comfortable with each other.

He made a mental note to always put spare change in him before leaving the house—either mentally or physically not okay.

And so, their little adventure began. He could say that the feeling was a bit cliche—as if out of a fictional bestseller that sat in bookstores. He couldn't find the words to describe what it felt like running down the dimly lit streets whilst laughing at corny jokes and random memories. She was one of a kind, and that's when it all made sense—she really didn't belong to anyone.

She is a free soul.

She belongs to the stars, the skies, and the dimly lit streets of July. She was the piece of summer that giggled in the early autumn evening. She was a beautiful soul, and that, in and of itself, is a high compliment.

From licking ice creams in the late hours, laughing at kids in the convenience store, and reminiscing about late summer ventures, to ultimately questioning what they want to do in life.

"I have a lot of ambitions, actually," she told him. The two of them sat on a bench, eyeing the full moon that slowly rose from behind the tall buildings of the city. She looked at the bag of chips that she grasped, skimming through the wrapper absent-mindedly. "But I really can't bring myself to continue on with schooling."

It was late, and Hiro knew that his project was waiting at home. But he couldn't have the heart to tell her about that mere fact. Nor does he even have the will power to get himself to stand up from that bench.

It was a beautiful evening, and he doesn't have the conscience to ruin it for himself, nor for her too.

"Then, why not? I mean, we only live once. You gotta go and chase those ambitions," he replied.

"Well, I'm thinking it's kinda impossible? I mean, it's all crazy to me. And I really don't know if I can get myself to continue on... with it," she hesitated a bit.

"Well, you really wouldn't know if you won't try," he looked at the street, "I got to a point where I almost gave up trying to get into SFIT, but sometimes, you just got to look at another angle and give it another try."

A smile ghosted her lips, one that was bordering on in between bitterness and nostalgia, "Hmm, you're right. But aside from that, I don't think there's a path for someone like me."

"Then make one for yourself," he replied with a cheeky smile.

She returned it, but it was accompanied with the feeling of new found clarity.

"Hmm, yeah. Why haven't I thought of that?"

Her companion only shrugged.

Her phone then rang, signaling her that it was time to leave.

"Ah, that's my que," she said, crestfallen, "But hey, don't stress out too much with your academics. Trust me, you're doing great. Oh, and just hit me up if you need someone, 'kay?"

And from that, goodbyes were exchanged.

Yet sometimes, when you're having too much fun, you forget to exchange names.

...and contact numbers.

The next morning, Hiro woke up to the sun shining directly on his eyes. Noticing that he fell asleep on his desk, he opened his computer immediately, slightly panicking and trying to remember if he, indeed, finished his project.

And he did.

And it was all thanks to...

...what's her name again?

He racked his brain for any sort of information about her, but he couldn't seem to remember anything about her.

Then, it all sunk in.

Was she even real?

Groaning, he slouched on his chair, he wasn't even sure anymore.

And so, from that day on, he continued to live his life, but not without even wondering about her; Was she okay? Did she go on to pursue her ambitions and make a way for herself? A path carved with a shovel of uncertainty—either she stops or she continues on. He wondered if she ever came back to school.

And with each wondering came the feeling of slowly losing her into nothing but a memory of yesterday. He didn't want that. He wants nothing of that.

With every leather jacket he sees on the streets, he makes sure to stop to look, silently hoping that he'd see the same smile that she offered him in that chilly autumn evening. With every smile people offered him, he knew that she was different, as it spoke millions into just one grin. He tried to look for her, really, that people around him almost dubbed him as the crazy one trying to hunt something down that had little to no identity. Nothing but a soul.

He tried to locate where he once found himself lost, but she did, in fact, say that it was hard to locate even for locals. He reached a point where he just decided to let things be. There will come a time where their paths will cross, and that's for sure.

He couldn't help but sometimes feel insane. She might be a fever dream for all he knew, all was uncertain. But it's the faith that had him clinging on to the memory that she left, it was faith that had him clinging on to the sound of her laughter that rang late at that specific evening. It was the small sliver of faith that got him to claim that no, he wasn't crazy.

He laughed at his own analogy, a free soul.

She did resemble one, because she appeared only for a moment of fun before disappearing God knows where.

A decade onward did he begin to once again question his own sanity.

The same laughter that rang through the silence of the cold convenience store played with his ears. Blinking, he straightened up, despite the heavy box of robotic parts he was carrying back to the lab, and looked around.

And again, it went.

He was sure he wasn't insane...

Frantically he searched for a sliver of familiarity.

He was totally crazy for holding on to this for more than a decade but he didn't care. He was hoping...

"You lost?"

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saturnsstufff · 4 years ago

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The Empress (pt.IV)

Mmm. Blood for blood god, yes?

Warnings: mentions of abuse, poison, death, swearing

The palace was a bit busier after the evening you announced your new employment. After the servants herd there would be a trip, they were mostly preparing for Techno’s, and Phil’s leave. Two days weren't much to you, but to Techno and Phil? They were busy days. Techno ended up stealing Phil from your side during those days, so instead you spent your time with Wilbur.

Wilbur was a brilliant child. For being twelve he already had a large understanding of how their kingdom worked. Not only that, but when questioned he could also tell you about other countries and nations. He didn't play up his intelligent, but he also didn't dismiss what he knew.

Tomorrow was the day that Techno, Phil and you had planned to leave on. Phil did walk you to breakfast that morning, but Techno and Phil didn't waist time eating. They mostly hurried through, leaving little room for conversation, then left to Techno’s study. Leaving you and Wil alone for the day again. You didn't mind that though, yesterday you spent your time lingering over his shoulder well he did his studies. The studies, though sounding boring at first were actually pretty interesting. You had a education, however, the one you received was very basic. You were taught to read, write, and even shown basic math, but beyond that you weren't pressured to learn more. No one in your village was. This wasn't because your village viewed education less to survival. But mostly because your village was tiny, there were no great scholars. Most children were taught by there parents, like you, your mother taught you everything. Where Wilbur, at twelve was learning about different potion ingredients and there properties. You at the same age had just finished basic fractions. But that was ok, education wasn't something to compare, everyone learns differently and at different speeds.

Well you maneuvered around the casual tables, bookshelves and sofas, he responded. “Oh! well, you see, Phil wants all of his kids to be respectful, especially to women” you nodded, ’most parents prefer that.’ you mused to yourself. The two of you walked through the library to a room in the back. This is where Wil did his studies. It was just a private room, mostly made so no one could disturb the individual reading inside. “Our mother, she was really kind- you would have liked her- and her most defiantly would have liked you” He was just loosely rambling off, but it was adorable, he had a bright smile. Well you listened, something told you, not many people sat and talked with him. “When Phil met our mother he always told us of how poor her home life was, she wasn't treated very nicely, you see.” Wil took the door to the study and opened it for you two. Both of you moseying inside, side by side. When you two found the sofa you sat down easy, mostly having to readjust after. Unlike you Wil half threw himself onto it with a little squeak of the cushion. “When Dad found out mother was carrying me, he quickly took her away from her home. Anytime he mentioned her parents you could have sworn he wanted to kill them. Dadza doesn't get mad, but when he does... it’s not exactly pleasant.” Wil had swallowed a bit thickly at that last comment. Letting it linger in the air.

You walked with Wil towards the Library, the hall’s were a tad chillier due to the fact the sun wasn't out today. In its place was just grey clouds, offering more snow to the already maxed out ice cube you stood on. When you took the handle to open the door for Wil, he took it from your hand quickly. After grabbing it, he stumbled into profusely apologizing for his spur of the moment behavior.

“So sorry (y/n), it’s just, if Dadza caught me slacking on my manners... He wouldn't be too pleased.” You tilted your head slightly as he opened the door fully. Exposing the Ancient Book lined walls. The stale smell of paper, parchment, and the occasional ink hit you. The library was rather large, but then again, most things within this palace tended to be. The library did have a warmth to it, and a welcoming feeling. The type where if your not careful, you could get lost inside for hours at a time. In the corner rested a larger than normal fireplace, The attached Chimney ran to the celling, lined With thick Rocks and stones. The crackling and popping of the wood burning within was a very comforting white noise.

“this might seem off, but, what manners?” they way you said it may have sounded wrong, but you meant it in the best way you could. Or more the less for him to expand on the manners he was talking about.

“I'm not sure if I can ask, but, Techno looks older than you, did... He live with your mother when she was with her parents?” Wil shifted to face you a bit more. Putting his heel up on his knee. well he rested his elbow on the arm of the couch, he moved his head to rest in his hand.

“No, Techno was adopted. When dad was in the Nether he raided a lost fortress. from what he explained, there was just a toddler roaming around.” Your heart clenched slightly, you couldn't imagine leaving a toddler alone, none the less in a place like the nether. you have never been there, but the stories you’ve herd were enough to tell you the danger. “Since he’s a hybrid of a Piglin Brute and human, none of the other Piglins would touch him. So Dadza did, as Dadza does. he took him home.”

You thought back on this a moment. Techno had a godlike amount of strength, not to mention how tall he was. Of course he was a Hybrid. You felt a bit stupid now for not picking it up. “Just, don't tell Techno I told you, he doesn't like his name being discussed behind his back” You nodded. Wilbur’s face grew into a smile. “This can be our secret” you nodded and smiled back.

“our secret” The more you talked to Wil, you discovered he was a lot like Philza. The two had the most contagious smile you’d ever seen. The only difference you assumed was he had his mother's features. Phil had bright keen blue eyes, well Wilbur had deep beautiful brown eyes. Another difference was there facial structure. You two were quiet a moment before you spoke up. You had been curious of where their mother was, there were paintings of her. But she was no where around. The way Wil talked about her made you assume she had passed. “what happened to your mother?”

Wilbur’s eyes saddened briefly before he- what you assumed- forced himself to contain. “Oh, well... Phil and Mom had a dinner one night with some other world leaders.” he paused a bit rubbing his neck. “It was supposed to be peaceful. but someone from the German Empire didn't want us to be allies. so he poisoned our mother’s food.” He started slowing down with the story as he went on. “Like you said with your father (y/n), you were too young to understand? That's how it was for me. I was only four. I didn't understand why Techno and Dad were so angry.” he wiped his eyes as they welled up, one eye let a tear fall. “They didn't keep me in the room long. As soon as mom started choking, they started yelling. One of our allies’, his wife, had taken me out of the room before it had escalated any further.”

Your heart fell heavy, a pit forming in your stomach. you couldn't empathize with loosing a parent. especially at such a young age like that. You could easily tell Wil wasn't over his mothers death. The way he looked at the ground with such hurt, it genuinely pained you so see the happy boy like this. You moved yourself closer to his side and hugged him tightly, showing him the reassurance he needed. You didn't respond for a little bit. letting Wil express what emotions he had possibly bottled up. After a bit when you felt him pull back, you just kept your arm around his shoulder. You weren't his family. but you hoped that for what company you offered, it made him feel at least a bit better. “I'm sorry Wilbur…” was all you could muster. The atmosphere weighed heavier now. With the sadness of pressed memories lingering, the two of you didn't talk. instead you simply sat in silence.

“So what’s France like?” you asked curiously, taking a bite of your mashed potatoes.

By dinner that evening Wilbur and you had already promised each other that you wouldn't speak of what happened in the studies. He didn't want Techno on his back for opening up, or that he also cried a bit. You were ok with keeping it between you two, Wilbur had confided in you something very personal, the least you could do was respect his wishes.

Dinner had gone by smoothly, the chatter between Wilbur and you had picked up quite a lot. You could tell this made Phil happy to see the two of you getting along. Especially since you now technically live with them. When you first arrived to the palace, dinner’s were kind of awkward, since only Phil and you really talked. But now it seemed that Techno was the only one that wouldn't partake in the conversations. He would put a word or two in. But mostly dinners were spent with Wil and you talking about whatever came to mind.

Wil was hurrying to swallow to try and respond. “Oh! you’d love it there (y/n)!” Phil slightly chuckled at Wil. “Its really scenic!” Before Wil could ramble off about France and it’s perks, Phil had chimed in.

“It is a beautiful place, but were not going to any specific places. were only going to the countryside's. We know that much” Wil and you cocked your head’s slightly. ‘what’s out in the country side?’ You mentally questioned, but Wil instead asked it aloud.

“Not that the countryside isn't beautiful- why not stop by the towns?” Wil questioned, his brow furrowed. waving his fork between Techno and Phil for his answer.

“The cities don't have what I need” Techno said plainly, at that Wilbur shot back with a remark.

“mmn, like a girlfriend?” you couldn't help but laugh at the way Techno turned to face Wilbur. Since he still eats with his mask. you could only see his lips, to which Techno made a ‘heh?’ before he compiled his answer fully.

“Keep it up I’ll take you to France and punt you out of my plane.” Phil laughed with you on that one. Although Techno was pretty stoic and monotone, over the last couple of days lately he’s been showing more of his ‘Brotherly love’ as Phil call’s it. you had a feeling that Techno and Phil were going to miss Wilbur during there trip. or, at least you would for sure. After Wilbur laughed a bit he got serious again.

“But really, what are you looking for. there’s not many things in the countryside besides the occasional mansion or farm. Kind of boring if you ask me” Techno hummed in response. Appearing like he was aware of what was in the country already. Since Wil couldn't work a answer out of Techno he simply dropped the subject, viewing it no longer worth the push. Instead he started back on his steak, Phil picking up the conversation.

“Those new clothes should be in your room tonight, (y/n)” you looked up and swallowed your mouthful. nodding before you answered.

“mhn! oh! right, thank you again for them. Are you sure my old pair wouldn't cut it? I’d hate to ruin a new pair of clothes on a side trip” Phil waved his hand in response, as if waving away your worry.

“awh, I wouldn't worry to much on it. Besides, now that you work for us, you have to be official n’ shit” He grinned at you. “Besides, your clothes were nice for your village, but France and Russia have a bit different climates.” You nodded casually. The idea of visiting new places had you a bit giddy. Yes, you missed your home, but being with the royal family so far has been utterly pleasant.

“do you have a certain time you would like to leave?” you questioned, your eyes dancing between Techno and Phil for your answer. Techno didn't look up from his food, expecting Phil to answer for him.

“we’ll probably just end up sending a servant to wake you up. We don't have a specific time yet, but we know it will probably be early. Mostly so we can reach land on time. Techno has the map’s ready for tomorrow with the stops marked. fuel n’ stuff will probably draw us back time wise.” Phil poked at his food well he talked, moving a bit of the food to a nice size bite. “We don't have a designated time we have to return. But we also don't want to be gone from the palace long.” you tilted your head a bit, looking to Phil.

“why don't you want to be gone long?” You assumed it was because they liked being in the comfort of their own home, but you also had a feeling it was something beyond that. Phil’s brow had came together in a bit of... frustration?

“we cant be gone long because the Governor's get antsy..." this was the first time you herd Phil's voice drop. It wasn't his casual light hearted tone, instead it was replaced with a deep, meaningful, yet precise tone. He knew what he wanted to say, and he knew exactly what he had to say. "We can't take Wilbur with us since he’s too young. It's also best to have someone to look over the palace in our absence."

You set your fork down as you finished your plate. Mimicking how techno piled his plates. "Why do they get antsy?" You couldn't help your curiosity on this matter. ‘Did the Governor's not like them gone?’

"Because they feel Wilbur is more fit to Rule. It's utter bullshit" Phil had a lot of pressed emotion on that topic. You could tell just from how he now handled and moved his fork. Usually he had a easy grip, loose moving it about his plate. But now his knuckles were a tad white, and his grip was much more secure. "Don't mistake my words, Wilbur could rule. He'd be a bloody brilliant king too. But Techno is my oldest son. The crown falls to him. Plain and simple. But They think, that because Techno isn't my blood, that it doesn't count." His words started becoming sharper and more hateful. He dropped his fork on his plate at this point out of anger. Even Techno who never moves his head much, Or talk for that matter, had moved his head to face Phil. Techno addressed his father.

"Dadza..." you were a bit shocked, his tone wasn't as monotone. His voice showed his concern, or maybe his understanding. Phil only looked at his plate before he looked up with a breath.

"I cant leave Wil because they pressure him. They pressure him into the thought of marriage with his best friend, into dethroning techno, last time the fucker's brought up killin’ tech and I" Phil leaned back in his chair a bit.

Phil sighed again. Looking up at Wilbur with kind eyes, the hate from his previous thoughts wiped free. "I hate leaving him with that much pressure. He's only twelve".

After the dinner everyone slowly retired to their rooms. Techno had stolen Phil again for some last minute run by plans, so in his stead Wilbur walked you to your room. You both didn't Talk long however, you both were aware that you would be up early the next day. Oh yeah, you were definitely up early. The sun hadn't rose yet and you were already being shaken awake by one of the maids. Telling you that Techno and Phil were patiently waiting. you hurried to change not wanting to leave them waiting any longer.

When you saw them in the hall you had just thrown your cloak and cape over your shoulders. The new attire Phil had made for you was just mostly more layers. This way if you got warm you could shed a few, or vise versa when you were cold.

“I'm so sorry I kept you waiting-” you stopped mid sentence you couldn't believe what you saw. If anyone could have seen your face, they may have assumed you had witnessed a murder for the way your jaw hung open.

There stood Techno in front of you, Phil by his side. But that's not what had your mouth open. Techno’s mask was long discarded, and by the gods was he good looking. Maybe not in the typical sense of beauty standards, but to you he was ethereal. He had scars, yes, but that only added to him. Maybe if he didn't have the scars he would have blown the beauty standard of Handsome, but speaking for yourself you prefer him with the scars. You definitely prefer the scars. There was a small scar over his lip. Then one larger one across his brow bone that dragged down to his cheek. From how the larger one appeared, you could only assume how long it took for it to heal. His eyes were delicate, but they danced ablaze. they were brown, but almost borderline red tinted. Without his mask you could see that he had a rather soft, natural appearance. He was young, younger than you assumed. He looked only about seventeen. The way he was dressed made him look like a casual, young gentleman you would have found on the street. you almost couldn't believe he was the feared Emperor. He must have noticed your lingering eyes, because his lips moved into the ever slightest bemused smirk. When you saw his expression you couldn't help the heat that flushed your cheeks. Worst of all is you could feel your heated cheeks, and that just made you redder from embarrassment. If this was how the trip was going to start, you were in for a long bumpy ride.

“Hello, princess” was all he said. He was purposefully poking at you now. He just learned he had a big effect on you, and oh boy was he ready to torment you with it. You could only avert your eyes, you had nothing to say against that. You didn't even know where to begin with it all. it took you a moment to process. Phil still stood beside Techno, his hand rubbed at his mouth a bit to muffle the chuckle he had.

“w...where’s your skull?... a-aren’t you traveling with it?” oh great, yeah your voice definitely, wasn't taking your side on trying to compose yourself. Techno hummed, he was really amused now.

“Hm? Here I thought you would have preferred this... what a shame, I even shaved.” techno ran his large but delicate hand over his jaw and neck, the rings on his fingers stuck out against his skin. Phil laughed vocally now. The little shit was enjoying this. techno adjusted his stance and crossed his arms. He just held a bemused smirk, oh you so wished nothing more than to rub it off. You didn't care if he was a royal, if you thought you could take him, you would have.

“Ok techno, that's enough, don't want her too red now. she might try and off ya’” Oh don't worry Phil you already thought about it. “don't worry about making us wait either kiddo, we had to get a few things ready anyway” you looked up at Phil as your cheeks finally started to return to normal.

“What were you getting?” you inquired, your brows slightly furrowed.

“This” Techno said, offering a sheath to you. You looked up to him and back down to it. It was a sword, not the one you made, but a different one. “We cant have you defenseless on your trip with us” You hesitated. you knew this was the wrong time to admit that you didn't know how to fight with a sword. You gently took it, parting the blade from its sheath to look it over. It was well made that's for sure, basic Iron, but still strong.

“Your Imperial Majesty...” you were thankful for the sword but, again. you didn't know how to use it. you made them, but you were never taught on how to use one. Your mother forbid it, saying that you already took a man’s trade, there was no need for you to dirty yourself further down the path. “I... I cant...” Techno’s brow lifted in question. “I... d-don't know how to use it...” You felt shame take over you. Fully prepared for them to laugh at you. Instead Phil offered you a slightly surprised look. Techno only made a ‘Heh?’.

“You don't know how to use a sword?” you could only shake your head, looking down slowly. Phil placed his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, moving his head down so he could face you. “Hey... Hey, your ok... Tell ya’ what. Well were out on the trip, we’ll show you ok? It’s still good to carry a sword, just incase things go side-ways. But I promise we’ll make sure you don't have to use it then, ok?” you nodded slowly.

“O-ok, I'm still sorry...” Phil only shook his head, explaining you had nothing to be sorry for. He gently took the sword from you and put it back in it’s case. He told you to lift your arm’s, so that's what you did. He easily maneuvered the belt around your waist and secured the sword your hip. Almost like he would have done to his own kids. The weight of it would have to be something to get used to, but you were thankful that they were not mad or disappointed in you.

The three of you walked to where all the planes were kept. this is where Phil offered you a choice. “Would you like to ride with Techno or I?” Oh, so you had to pick. You gave them a brief blank look.

“I figured I would be riding with you, Phil” You did assume you were just going to ride with him, but you also didnt want to be with techno if he was strickly in a teasing mood. Phil only smiled and nodded.

“Alright’ lets get going then” was all he said. Techno walked passed you and Phil. Making his way over to his plane, there was a heavier cloak waiting on the wing. Techno’s plane was different from the other ones, not physically. His had a crown on the side along with the signa, probably to shownit was the Rulers. He effortlessly threw the heavy cloak over his shoulder and stepped up on the wing. His arm reaching out to pull himself up. jumping into the cockpit easily.

Phil handed you a similar cloak. “it’s colder right now due to the sun being down. you will definitely want this.” you nodded and took it with a ‘thank you’. well you put it on Phil had stepped up onto the wing. pulling his cloak on. He offered his hand down again like he did the last time you flew. His wings were spread out behind him, enjoying the freedom they had before they would be confined. when you took his hand he pulled you up effortlessly. letting you steady yourself before he lifted you up to the cockpit, assisting you in. when you were all situated the planes roared to life. Techno faced Phil and sent a nod. A wordless que. Phil sent a nod back before they both started moving together. Soon before you knew it, you were back in the air heading home.

@goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro @jackalopedoodles @angelic-scent @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @artsimatsu @justabalroginthenet @seme1e @fangirl570 @sweeetteaa @awlawdtheycoming @idkwhatusernametohave

#techno x reader #technoblade x you #technoblade x reader #TE

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hufflesmonsters · 4 years ago

Text

New Beginnings

A/N: hi, just dropping in to say I’m writing again >:D enjoy this slow burn. Also, surprise, it’s not a lizard man story though I do have one in the works so there is that.

~*~*~*~

Torren swung the ax down, splitting the log in two. Sweat beaded his brow as the sun bore down on him. He stuck the ax down in the wood stump and stood, wiping away the sweat with the back of his hand as he looked up at the sky. Just past noon, he’d have to get a move on if he was going to be on time for the kings summon. If he even wanted to take the job, whatever it was. If King Richard the second wished to hire a mercenary, it surely couldn’t be for anything fun. He clearly didn’t want to waste his own men for this, which meant that Torren was likely going to die during his job.

And yet… the money he would get if he lived. He could retire, and finally live his dream of being the towns hermit to its fullest potential. As in, he only ever comes into town on stormy nights to buy ten kegs of ale and disappear for another three months. He grew his own food, hunted his own meat. Of course he kept messing up his tomato plants which meant he had to go into town to get those, but once he can figure it out then mission Hermit was a go.

Stepping back, he grabbed the shirt he had draped over a nearby branch and walked towards his home. It was a nice little shack, one he’d built from scratch back when he was just a young boy. He had found the location by accident really, one minute he was being chased by his elder brothers, the next he was standing in a clearing with a pond and no one in sight for miles. At first it was just a cool hideout, somewhere he could go to get away from his crazy family and village bullies. But over the years he spent more and more time here, fixing it up and expanding the facilities. Next thing he knew he had completely moved in and claimed the land officially as his.

Tossing the shirt on the couch, he walked into his bedroom and opened his dresser. He wasn’t sure what he’d need really, if this was a quick trip, and he hoped it was, he’d only really need two shirts, pants and his washing supplies. He already had his armor on, his swords were already by the door, polished and ready to go. He grabbed the shirts, extra pants, and his bag of supplies and stuffed them into a bag that he could tack onto his horses saddle. He’d grab a small coin purse for food and drink, which should cover him for his trip if he was careful. If he ran out of coin he’d only have to offer to chop wood for inns or something like that.

As he turned to leave, bag in hand, he stopped by the kitchen and grabbed the oat bag for Sweetie. Most of the time she was content to just chew on grass, or even break into gardens and devour everything in sight. But oats, how she loved oats.

The sun glared at him as he exited the house, he stopped briefly to lock it up before continuing down the path to the pasture. He could already see the giant grazing peacefully, black tail flicking away bugs as her dappled gray coat shone silver in the sunlight. She was truly a magnificent horse, holding a presence without even trying. She was a draft horse, one of the few capable of holding a full grown orc. And she was an absolute sweetie, hence, her name.

“Got something for you, Sweetie,” Torren called as he entered the stall part of the pasture, grinning as her large head shot up, ears pointed forward and nostrils flaring. She smelled the oats like sharks smell blood in the water. With a graceful trot, she soon stood in front of him, towering over him by two feet. She bent down and nuzzled his cheek lovingly, snorting into his ear as he tried to shove her away. “We don’t have time to cuddle, girl. The King wants us at the castle by midday tomorrow.”

Sweetie snorted and stood upright again, flank twitching as she moved past him and into the tacking area. She was smart, smarter than most horses he’d met. She waited patiently as he began to saddle her, taking his time to secure the bag and oats in a place where she couldn’t get to it. She was tricksy, especially when it came to oats. But she also knew that those were a night time snack, something that he wouldn’t just give out unless they narrowly avoided death and allowed her to have something to chew on while he fought off a panic attack.

He slid the reins over her head, patting her cheek as she opened her mouth to allow the rod to go in. Once she was fully outfitted, he lead her out of the stalls and closed the doors behind her. He swung up onto her back, and settled in. Gathering the reins, he clicked his tongue and set off down the dirt path that lead into town. The castle wasn’t too far, if he traveled nonstop today he’d be able to make it before midday tomorrow. Talk to the king, get the job done, and they’d be home before they knew it.

~*~*~*~

Reaching the castle, Torren almost turned back around. He’d heard the rumors, how King Richard the second seemed to… overcompensate. The walls around the kingdom were large, but not as large as the damn castle. It towered over everything, almost as if it was a direct challenge to the gods. It was also very, very ugly with its pale brown coloring and lack of windows.

Showing his summons slip to the guards at the gate, he slowly made his way into the kingdom. It was another thing that irked him about King Richard, he was a man with “purist” beliefs. No race other than human was allowed past the walls without a proper invite. There was no trading, or apprenticeship allowed between humans and others. Which raised another red flag about this job offer, why would a king who hates his kind specifically ask him to complete a task for him.

Torren tightened his fist on the reins as he watched the crowd wearily. He was going to die, either here or on this job if he wasn’t careful enough. The townsfolk weren’t bad, they looked more open to him than the guards did, but he didn’t dare interact with them. Not even to the young children who waved at him for the guards were watching him just as closely as he was watching them.

Reaching the palace, he climbed off of Sweetie’s back and handed the reins over to the stable boy, a warning look in his eyes. If they mistreated her, he would rip all of their spines from their backs and beat them to death with it. Torren turned to look at the guards that approached him, back stiff as he towered over them. It was almost laughable, how they escorted him into the palace.

The inside of the castle was just as ugly as the outside, the same beige walls, no decorations whatsoever. Whoever helped the king design this deserved to be publicly executed. Knights stood at every corner, some seemed to be standing at random places the further they got in. It was almost as if someone had just told them to pick a window and stand. The guards increased as they drew closer to the throne room, all of them standing at attention as they stopped in the middle. The guards beside him stood at attention, hands over heart and back straight.

One of the guards announced the arrival of the king, everyone else following in salute. Torren looked up in expectation for the infamous King Richard the Second. Looking, looking, out of confusion, his gaze drew down to the floor when an irritated cough sounded.

Oh, oh gods…

Torren had to physically bite his tongue as he took in the sight of King Richard the second. No wonder the castle was so large and hideous, this man barely stood past a humans waist. He recalled an old nickname for the king, one that was immediately outlawed in the towns surrounding his kingdom. Little Dick Jr, the bane of all of Pufort.

Torren knelt in front of the tiny king before any more offense could be given. And he had a lot to give at this moment in time. “Your grace,” he said stiffly.

“Rise,” came the nasally response. “Do you know why I've called you here, orc?” Dick Jr asked once Torren towered over him again.

“No, m'lord.”

“I am a king without a queen, I'm basically a laughing stock in all the kingdoms!” Torren was willing to put money on it, that wasn't the reason why, but he knew better than to say that. “But there's a princess, locked away in a tower due east. And she will be my bride.”

“And you wish me to retrieve her?” Torren asked for clarification. That didn't sound so hard at all.

“Yes, it's a week’s journey all together, the roads are treacherous, but I'm sure you're no stranger to that,” again, nothing dangerous. “And then of course there's the active volcano and lava surrounding the castle and the dragon guarding it.” Ah, there it is.

“I see, that doesn't sound too difficult for me,” Torren said, lying through his teeth. He could handle bandits, he could even sneak past a fucking dragon. But lava? An active volcano? That was something he'd never experienced before and wasn't too keen on the idea.

“Perfect, we will discuss your payment when you get back. Godspeed, I wish to be married by the end of the month!” Little Dick Jr clapped his hands twice, alerting the guards that he was done talking to the half orc.

Torren bowed his head and turned to make his leave. If he walked fast enough, he could get out of this city by the time the king reached the stairs. The guards had attempted to follow him out, but after they had to literally run to keep up they quit. It wasn't like he was going to do anything anyways.

He eyed the gods awful bust of Dick jr. and contemplated tripping into it…

No, no. Not yet.

~*~*~*~

If there were small miracles, Torren may have found one. Sweetie was in perfect condition when he had retrieved her, granted she had been touched by the stable hands and she made sure to voice her displeasure by biting his shirt and nearly throwing him into a mud pile. Sweetie was a sweetheart up until she had the wrath of the gods placed upon her.

They had made their way out of the kingdom as fast as they could, and Torren was grateful that the guards didn’t give him an official escort out of the kingdom. Though, he had noticed several guards watching him carefully if he lingered too long in an area. Sure, there was traffic, but he was an orc, that was an unforgivable crime don’t you know? He half expected to get harassed when he passed by the front gate guards, but he was uncomfortably surprised to find that they did not.

Oh, he was going to die on this mission. He should have gotten his affairs in order, who was going to take after Sweetie when he was gone? His brothers were half a kingdom away and his neighbors didn’t know he existed. Now, he was realizing as he traversed the hills, it was a bad time to be a hermit. Sweetie was smart though, maybe she’d find a new hermit to adopt and go about her life.

Okay, maybe he should focus on traveling and not his soon to be untimely demise.

Torren had just crested the hill overlooking the neighboring village when a shout came from his right. Looking over, he was wary to see an elf making his way over on his own sturdy steed. The elf seemed friendly enough, though most elves he met rarely stayed friendly. He paused and waited for the elf to approach, keeping a hand on his dagger just in case.

The elf wasn’t bad looking, kind of handsome really if Torren was being honest with himself. Tall, a bit taller than most of the elves he met, golden skin that would make King Midas jealous. Long brown hair braided back in practicality rather than aesthetic, though it was a tad too ornate for pure practicality. He was dressed in simple leathers, with elven embroidery up around the shoulders, partially obscured by the cloak he wore.

“Hail, friend! I see you came from Pufort, a fine accomplishment for those of us considered too “unpure”,” the elf gave a laugh as he settled beside Sweetie. “Gavril, merc for hire,” he introduced himself as he put his hand out.

“Torren,” Torren said as he took the hand and shook it once. A mutual respect was given to the elf, some mercs stuck together, especially those around Pufort. The land wasn’t known for tolerance, mostly the guards fault, and so it wasn’t common to see many mercs who weren’t human. “What brings you to Pufort?”

“Ah, but the king, of course!” Gavril gave the man a bright smile before his smile dropped. “Better to talk here than in the village. Less ears.”

Torren felt his heart drop at the comment, dear gods was this the end? He hadn’t even made it out of Pufort yet! Gods, the amount of fun his brothers would have when they find out that he died in Pufort of all places…

“I can see you’re freaking out, fear not, I am not going to say “long live Dickie”,” Gavril let out a laugh, and Torren didn’t appreciate it, like, at all. “He hired me a month back, and when I disappeared he chose to hire you.”

“And I should believe you, why?” Torren actually did believe him, it was just the dick move that Dickie would pull. But he was a distrustful man by nature, and so grilling the elf it was.

“Why would I lie? Being here in of itself is a death sentence for me if one of his guards spots me,” Gavril shrugged. “No, I felt as if the job was far too… strange for me to complete without the full story.”

“And that story was?” Torren raised a brow as he shifted on Sweetie, who snorted in warning as she grazed.

“The princess, she’s apparently the daughter of the neighboring kingdom, Aster. I did my research and went to them with the information on Richard. They don’t like the idea of an unsavory man such as him “rescuing” their daughter in such an unhonorable way,” Gavril leaned a bit as his voice dropped. “I was riding by, coming back from another business that I had to attend, when I happened to have heard he had another summons, I thought it was only fair to let you know about it all.”

“And what, exactly, are you hoping to inform me of other than the princesses misfortunes?” Torren leaned slightly in despite himself.

“I’m to meet another fellow, a minotaur by the name of Jardor. He was the princess's guard before she was imprisoned so she’d be more trusting of us. Her parents hired me to take her Aster instead of Pufort, and their offer is extended to any other mercenary hired by Richard.”

“And this is legitimate? How do you know they won’t cast you off to Richards' wrath once they have their daughter?”

Gavril nodded as he sat upright. “A fair question, I, myself, found myself doubting it. However, I asked around their former employers and found that they were actually credible. I understand that you have no reason to believe me, but if you are curious you are more than welcome to come with me to meet up with Jardor.”

“And where is he?” Surely a minotaur would be noticeable around a place like Pufort.

“He was smart enough not to come to the welcoming land of Pufort,” Gavril said with a grin. “He’s in Halder’s Rest in the neighboring village, Stonewall, I believe.”

“And you just happened to be riding by Pufort and saw me?” Torren raised a brow as he leaned back.

Gavril let out a soft laugh. “Fair enough, I might have been lingering around to see what the little man’s reaction would have been.”

“How? You couldn’t have been allowed in the city.”

“It’s actually fairly easy to sneak in if you find the really dumb guards,” Gavril said with a smirk. “If you talk fast and use big words to explain away things, they simply just let you in.”

Torren shook his head, “very well. I’ll come with you to this Jardor, but I make no promises that I will join you.”

“Of course,” Gavril gave a bow to his head. “Now, what do you think are the odds that these kind folk will allow us to rest in their undoubtedly comfortable inn?”

“‘Us’?” Torren looked at the elf with furrowed brows. Surely he didn’t think they were going to travel to Halder’s Rest together, did he?

“Yes, ‘us’,” Gavril said with a raised brow. “Surely you didn’t think I’d just abandon you to these unwashed masses, did you?”

“Yes?” Torren wasn’t sure who he pissed off up there, but he was fairly sure he didn’t deserve this kind of forced upon companionship here.

“Oh, my friend,” Gavril gave a sympathetic pout before clapping Torren on the shoulder. “You’re stuck with me.”

Gods help him.

~*~*~*~

Turns out, the good folk were not willing to rent out their plentiful rooms to two distinguished gentlemen like them. So, seeing as the guards started gathering around them once they exited, the duo had opted to camp out on the spacious planes outside of the village. Pro: it was a nice night out with the stars shining bright; con: there were wolves and they very much were eyeing them as a snack.

Luckily for them, the wolves found a rather unfortunate deer and left them alone for the rest of the night. After that, the sleeping got easier, though Torren still kept a hand on his dagger under his pillow. And if he noticed that Gavril did the same with his staff, well, he wasn’t going to be one to talk.

The morning was a tense affair, Gavril had cooked and while it smelt delicious Torren wasn’t one for accepting food from strangers. But his mother also raised a gentleman with manners so he ate anyway. And it pissed him off more that it was, indeed, delicious in all honesty.

They set off not long afterwards, mounting their steeds and making their way to Stonewall, a village that was a good two hours away. Both Sweetie and Torren did their best to ride ahead of Gavril and his steed, Farren, however the two seemed to be professionals Thorn in his Side, for they stayed right on his heels, humming a stupid little song.

Torren really pissed off some of the gods.

But, by the Grace of the gods, they finally made it to Halder's Rest with minimal spats. Or, "character building" in Gavril's mind. The vast difference between Aster's civilians and Pufort's was easily spotted. Where an inhuman was hard to see even just passing through in Pufort, it was hard to not see them in Aster. From vendors, to guards, to just a milk maiden lizard girl.

It felt… welcoming.

"Halder's Rest is just down the road,'' Gavril said as he led Farren though the bustling roads.

Torren let him take the reins, not sure if he should run or not. He had no idea really what sort of situation he was walking into. One kingdom was going to be pissed off, that was for sure. Either Pufort or Aster, and he wasn’t sure which one was better. Aster wasn’t known for its military, sure it had it, but no one had seen it in action in well over a hundred years. They preferred to stay diplomatic in negotiations, and somehow it’s worked so far. And yet, he feared what Aster would do if King Richard the Seconded got his grubby little hands on their daughter.

But another part feared what the King would do to him if he failed to deliver the princess. He wasn’t the first mercenary, and even Gavril admitted he was cheating death when he hung around Pufort waiting for Torren to leave. Pufort was well known for their military power. King Richard was always willing to fling a fleet at a neighboring kingdom, or hell, even his own people, if he felt there was even a hint of offense at him and his legitimacy of his rule.

He should run, Torren realized. Like now, right now-

“Hey, there he is!” Gavril said as he pointed at the minotaur guard that stood outside the inn with his arms crossed. “Jardor!”

Jardor looked up with irritation on his face. He was big, even for a minotaur and just as uniquely colored. Most minotaurs that Torren had come across were either brown or black with white colorations. But Jardor was a multi-colored minotaur, white based but he had russet, black, brown and gray mottled on the skin that was exposed through his armor. His horns were wide and angled high, making him more imposing.

“Stop calling attention to us,” the guard hissed as they drew closer. “You could jeopardize the mission.”

“Oh, please,” Gavril rolled his eyes. “There’s only milkmaids here, it’s not that dangerous.”

“The king could find out and send his fleet,” Torren hissed at the elf.

“Exactly,” Jardor snorted as he shifted his stance. “Our success depends heavily on stealth. Until we deliver the princess back to the capital of Aster, we are not out of the weeds yet.”

Gavril sighed heavily but nodded. “So, are we heading out or is there other business we need to attend to first here?”

“We’ll head out, most of the pleasantries can be exchanged on the road,” Jardor said as he led them to the guards stables and pulled his draft horse out of the stall. As he mounted, Torren surveyed the town. It was a nice place to be, he supposed. But he still preferred his privacy.

“I don’t believe we met,” Jardor said to him as they set out. “I’m the Princesses’ guard, Jardor Stoneskin. And you?”

“Torren Azorrn,” Torren said finally. “Just got hired from the King-”

“-and poached from me once he left,” Gavril interjected with a cheerful grin.

“Yes,” Torren agreed with a heavy sighed.

Jardor snorted and shook his head. “Of course,” he sighed. “I apologize for him, he was supposed to go home and then make his way back here. Though I am glad he did make the detour, I doubt I would have survived the trip with just the two of us.”

Torren found himself smiling as Gavril let out a gasp of mock hurt. “It is nice to have a more level headed company,” he agreed as Gavril mumbled to himself as the two men snickered.

“I will have you two know, I am pleasant company!” Gavril said as he steered his horse next to Sweetie.

“Of course, my friend,” Jardor said evenly with a placating smile. “Of course.”

“Why did you have to return home, anyways?” Torren asked with a raised brow at the elf. He had only mentioned business arrangements, but going home was an entirely different thing “Was that the other business you mentioned earlier?”

“It was,” Gavril said defensively. “I have people at home who were waiting on me, had to let them know I’d be back for good later than anticipated.”

Torren nodded and left it at that, he wasn’t going to judge people for their personal affairs, he knew that if he was still in contact with his own brothers he’d be doing the same. They lapsed into a silence after that, save for the occasional direction change from Jardor the other two were content with just following him. Finally, Torren found himself speaking up. “Jardor, if you’re the princesses’ guard, then why aren’t you with her?”

“Ah, there are two princesses in Aster, the one who is heir to the throne and the second in line should anything happen to the eldest sibling,” Jardor said. “The princess I served was the second in line, though she loathed the whole thing,” he added with a soft smile. “When she was...cursed, I was ordered to stay behind and help protect her sister.”

“So she’s cursed?” Gavril asked with a frown. “You didn’t mention that.”

Jardor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I, yes, she’s cursed,” he said stiffly. “The sooner she comes home, I’m sure she’ll be closer to breaking that curse.”

“Isn’t true love usually the factor in those curses?” Gavril asked with a furrowed brow as Torren studied the minotaur.

“Yes, but that is not the case here,” Jardor said with such confidence neither mercenary knew what to do with that.

“So what is this curse?” Torren asked. “Why was she moved to such a remote location, surrounded by lava and a dragon?”

“It was considered necessary by the Throne, it was not my place to question it,” Jardor said stiffly.

“So you did disagree,” Gavril noted. “Which means it likely isn’t a curse, and that makes me so much more intrigued, don’t you feel the same, Torren?”

Torren didn’t comment. But he did note that the minotaur was clearly hiding something, and that made him all the more wary of this job. He should have just stayed home.

“Must you grate on my nerves, elf-boy?” Jardor snapped as he looked at the elven mercenary.

“Ah, elf-boy is actually my younger brother, a cute lad but not nearly as annoying as me, elf-man,” Gavril said with a grin, but it dropped quickly in the wake of a grim expression on his face. “Look, we can deal with a dragon, and even the lava. But if she’s cursed, we need to know exactly what we’re walking into.”

“Nothing dangerous,” Jardor promised, and the two men relaxed just a bit at that. The situation was weird, but Jardor radiated a trusting aura that it was hard to suspect they were walking into a trap. At least for Gavril, Torren always assumed there would be a trap involved when he traveled with others. “Just let me take the lead when we get to the tower, a familiar face will help her.”

“How long has she been locked away?” Torren asked finally.

“Seven years,” Jardor said with a weary look in his eyes, and deeper down, pain. “It’s high time for her to come home.” He nudged his horse, kicking her into a faster gait as they made their way out of Aster and into the wildlands. “That said, we’re a three day journey away from the tower, it’s in a remote part of the country that few travel by. We shouldn’t face any resistance before the volcano.”

“Well then, let’s get ourselves a princess,” Gavril said with a smirk at Torren as he sent Farren barreling after Jardor.

Torren sighed heavily and patted Sweetie’s neck, “let’s get this over with,” he said to her as he nudged her side gently, a gentle permission to run with the other horses, a permission that she gladly took as she galloped next to their two companions. In just three days, he’ll be fighting off a dragon surrounded by molten lava just to rescue a princess. That was the only certain thing he knew about this mission, if there was a curse, if they could get her to Aster before the King found out, if he still was getting paid.

Gods, was he still getting paid?

~*~*~*~

[eye of the tiger blasting]

Jardor kept the lead, forging ahead when Gavril decided that bickering with Torren was a Lovely Idea. Both men, both adult men, were constantly five seconds away from getting into a slapping fight that escalated when Gavril, a four year old apparently trapped in a twenty eight year old's body, claimed that Torren had hit him.

Jardor just let it happen when Torren really did hit him.

Setting up camp was a horrid affair, all three of them were skilled in camping, but those skills had varying degrees. Jardor could put up an excellent tent, but the sleeping cot kept getting tangled and eventually he just laid out on the mess with a stoic resolve. Torren was an expert in putting out his sleeping cot, but his tent kept falling out on one side and eventually he just moved Sweetie over to help keep it propped up with the promises of getting her an extra big bag of oats. And Gavril would put his tent up, but in the process of laying out his sleeping cot the tent would fall. When he’d try to put the cot up first, the tent would fall and he’d have to find his way back out again. And so, in a moment where his remaining two brain cells bumped together, he tied his tent up to the branches of the tree keeping it up and elevated while Torren glared at him from the inside of his lopsided tent that was beginning to smell of horse.

The morning didn’t help anything either.

Torren, used to years of cooking and traveling by himself, had woken up early and made himself, and only himself, a nice breakfast. The other two, woken by the pleasant smell of bacon and the heavenly sizzle of fresh eggs being cooked, came out of their tents with growling stomachs and crushing disappointment when they spotted Torren eating it all by himself. Jardor was disappointed, Gavril was dismayed. The two had to fend for themselves, Jardor splitting a piece of jerky with the elf as they glared subtly in Jardor’s case, and blatantly in Gavril’s.

When they finally set back out again, it was in lesser spirits than the day before. They were less than a day away, according to the smell of sulfur that got increasingly heavier as they traveled on. Gavril could see why no one had rescued the princess prior till now, the lands around the volcano were barren, the roads treacherous by hungry wolves. It was dangerous even for the three of them, he couldn’t imagine a merchant or a lone adventurer braving this land.

Well, maybe Torren.

But everyone else would be fucked.

Jardor let out a soft laugh up ahead and slowed to a stop at the crest of the hill. He glanced back at the two catching up, a light shining in his eyes as he grinned at them. “We’re here,” he announced as the tower, tall and magnificent, loomed below. It wasn’t exactly just a remote tower, Gavril could make out some crumbling structures of a once beautiful palace. He wondered, hoped really, that it was still stable and safe for the princess, surely her parent’s wouldn’t have dumped her into this hell hole if it was unstable. He paused, actually, he’s met some gods awful parent’s. It was a high possibility. But that was neither here nor there, the tower was still far enough away, but they would arrive there within the hour if they paced themselves. They still couldn’t spot the dragon, and none of them were willing to go head on against a fucking dragon.

Torren opened his mouth to speak, to ask what the plan was in case the dragon reared its head. But before he could utter a single word, a horn sounded from behind them. The three turned on their steeds to watch as a troop of soldiers made their way towards the tower, banners flying high, and armor glittering in the sunlight.

Pufort.

"Fuck," Gavril said with pursed lips.

Fuck was right.

~*~*~*~

Princess Amirah was absolutely, and positively bored. She had nothing else to paint, unless Harold suddenly changed their mind about her painting his scales. She’s run dramatically through the hallways a dozen times this morning, and really she wasn’t feeling it for a thirteenth time. All the books have been read, a countless amount of times. At this point she could quote the books and she did, constantly, to Harold as they cleaned their teeth from their meal each night. Harold never spoke as to whether or not they enjoyed it, but she assumed they would have put an end to it by now if they didn’t.

She sighed heavily as she paced her room, paint brush in hand as she tried to figure out a new canvas. There was still some room on the window sill, maybe even the dresser if she painted small enough. She paused by the open window, the smell of sulfur no longer bothered her as she breathed it in. She barely remembered the smell of fresh, clean air. Or the sound of bustling streets, the maids coming in with sweet hushed words, her mothers hugs…

Amirah shook her head and smacked her cheek chastisingly with her paint brush. No, no thoughts like that, she’s survived seven years without those things, she can survive many more. In all honesty, she probably could leave. It wasn’t like anyone was going to come looking for her of all the princesses in this unholy tower. They were more likely to go for the skinny blonde overlooking the ocean than her. Which was fine, she was the second born princess of Aster, her sister was always considered the prettiest, the fairest, the princess that all should aspire to be.

Amirah made it her mission to defy that expectation. She hated the princess duties that her mother and sister had forced her to attend. She hated the expectations that were expected of her as the second in line to the throne. To marry a neighboring kingdom, to secure an alliance between the two. To have their heirs and continue the bloodline. It all made her squeamish honestly. In a perfect life, she wouldn’t mind marrying and settling down on her own terms with someone that she truly loved. But she didn’t have the perfect life, she had her mothers expectations and her sister's legacy.

She was honestly safer in the tower than back home.

A strange sound filled the air, and a frown pulled at her lips as she looked off outside. She adjusted her glasses as another horn sounded, a horn of all things. Why would a horn be here, who was blowing the damned thing. They were going to wake Harold up!

Leaning out the window, Amirah let out a gasp as banners crested over the hill. Banners that belonged to Pufort, the kingdom ruled by King Richard. In the distance, she spotted three men charging ahead of the group, and hope glittered in her heart as she spied familiar horns. Was Jardor really here? She didn't know who the other men were, or what she assumed were male honestly she knew some beefy female knights, oh gods was Clarissa here? That would truly make her day.

Before she could speculate, however, a loud roar filled the air and shook the ground. Clinging to the wall, Amirah looked up in slight fear. She knew that roar, and what it meant. A challenge, anyone who wanted her, had to go through them.

May the Divines bless their poor souls.

#exophilia #orcs #elves #minotaurs #orc boyfriend #elf boyfriend #god i havent posted in so long i forgot how to tag akdjskjrfjew #ok #this is gonna be a SLOW BURN POLYCULE #with a fourth wheel who is there for the clusterfuck #guess who is who this week on WHEN WILL HUFFLES CONTINUE THIS #lmao #kidding I have chapter two in the works bitches #my mental health is questionable but waking up at 4 am now has it merrits #you aren't ready for the concoctions i have in store #edited this bc I forgot that google docs doesn't trasfer to tumblr like it does on ff.net #my writing #sfw

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wayward-mikaelson · 5 years ago

Text

"This just gives me the creeps," I say setting down a ceramic figurine. It looked like it was a combination of a clown, a fairy, and an angel. It was super creepy. I go back to walking the house the boys and I were scoping out. "You guys got anything?" I ask getting back into the living room.

"Nothing but some creepy ass ceramic figurines," Deans yells from another part of the house. "Are we even sure this is a spirit?"

Sams voice came from the garage. "It's a spirit alright." I turned to see Sam holding something that had disgusting black ooze on it. "Ectoplasm."

I make a face. "Awe shit," I say. "I hate really pissed off spirits." I holster my gun and sit down on the wooden rocking chair. "What spirit would be so pissed off to attack a nice little old lady?" I ask.

"Any spirit," Dean says coming into the living room. "Most likely they knew each other at one point if the spirit is that pissed off." Dean holsters his gun and looks at me with a small smile. I can feel every hair on my neck stand up. Dean knew what he was doing to me and he loved to do it.

I realize that I was holding my breath and quickly stood up to only loose my balance and fall right in the direction of Dean Winchester. Dean caught me with that same smiled. "Thanks," I say pushing away from him. I turned to towards the door and saw Sams face. He knew I liked his brother and he knew that Dean liked to tease me. "Shut up." I say making my way to the door. "Lets just go back to the motel and get some research done. The faster we get this done the quicker we can go back home."

The boys agreed and followed me out to the impala. The drive back to the motel wasn't that long but Dean wanted to stop for food. Very typical of him. Dean could eat a whole cow and later want to another whole cow. When we arrived back at the motel, we all set to work on research on deaths in the city, county, and in that neighborhood. We also looked into the history of the house. Nothing. That was until I came across something that was fishy.

"Guys," I pick up my laptop and shoved in front of the boys. "Did you guys know that she was widowed about forty years ago. Her husband was killed when someone broke into their home. The case went cold. It says here that she didn't seem to shaken up about his death as she had claimed multiple times that he was abusing her. But no proof that he was. Even family and an exgirlfriend said that he would never do such a thing. Four months later she remarried his best friend. He died a few months ago of a heart attack which she was broken up over."

Dean and Sam look it over. "Does seem fishy," Sam says. "Maybe the dead husband is stuck to the woman and his punishing her." Dean shook his head as he silenced his phone for the millionth time.

"Or maybe the wife had an affair with the best friend and because during that time period divorce or leaving a spouse was frowned upon, she took it out on him and had the best friend kill him." Deans phone rang again and he silenced it again. Sam was thinking about the other possibility that the wife and best friend killed the possible ghost.

"Who the heck is calling you over and over again?" I ask.

"I don't know. The number looks familiar but it can wait until the case is over." Dean says getting up and getting a drink. "We go the house tonight and wait for the ghost to show up and talk with him. See where he's buried and salt and burn him." Deans phone rang again. I grabbed the phone before Dean could silence it again.

"Hello?" I answer the phone. "Dean Winchesters phone. Who am I speaking to?" Before I could get a name Dean took the phone from me.

"I'm sorry about that," Dean says. I could help but hear a female voice on the other end. Deans face turned white and he fell back into his seat. "Lisa?"

"Who's Lisa?" I ask turning to Sam whose face had surprise written all over it.

"An old flame," Sam says making eye contact with me. "We had Cas erase hers and her sons memories of Dean after a a demon kidnapped them and it went south. Lisa almost died."

I looked back at dean who had made his way out of the motel room. I followed him. "Lisa, calm down," Dean says. "I did what I did to protect you and Ben. It killed me to do that." Dean was quite for a bit then he spoke. "Okay, where do you want to meet? I can be there tomorrow. Then you can tell me how you remember." Dean turns around and sees me standing there. His face looked so pained. Like he was reliving the past. "Okay, wow thats close. I'll be there." he says and hangs up the phone.

"Are you okay?" I ask as Dean walks passed me.

"I'll be fine. I just need to meet Lisa. She why she remembers everything." Dean walks into the motel and I follow him in. We see Sam packing a bag.

"I found her dead husband, The one that was murdered." Sam puts a few rounds of rock salt into the bag.

"Okay well, I'm going to meet Lisa in Saint Louis. Its a few hours from here." Dean began to throw together a bag. "If anything happens call me and I will be there."

I grabbed a bag too and began to fill it. "I'm going with you. Just to make sure you dont do anything stupid." Both the boys stopped and looked at me. "You wont be able to talk me out of it."

Dean closed his eyes and sighed. He knew that I was right and the look on his face looked like relief? Maybe? Who knew. I needed to know if this Lisa person was actually human or something that needs to die. I looked to Sam who saw my face and nodded. He understood why I was going.

"You guys go," Sam says slinging the bag over his shoulder. "I'll get a rental. If I need you guys, I'll call you." As sam walks passed you he leans in to whisper, "Make sure you bring him back. Do whatever you need to."

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

The drive to Saint Louis was super quiet. Dean of course has his music on but it was tense in the car. Dean still looked pained over all of it. I asked him he wanted to talk about it but he said no. So we just sat and drove. For four hours. Only stopping for food and the bathroom. I texted Sam a couple of times to tell him that Dean wasn't talking and asked about his time with Lisa. Sam just told me that Dean had spent over a year with them and that erasing their memories tore him apart. He never really spoke about it. I look at Dean and begin to feel super sorry for him.

"I know youre talking about me to Sam," Dean says pulling into a restaurant. A fancy one. This Lisa person was really trying to get him back, I thought. Even Deans face knew he would be out of place here.

"It's not too late to run," I lean over to Dean.

With that, Dean and I got out and walked into the restaurant. Even the severs dressed super nice. "Not to late," I whisper. Dean fakes laughs but I could tell that he was nervous and wasn't entirely sure about all of this.

"Dean?" a voice from behind makes the both of us turn around.

There stood a beautiful woman. Long brown hair and dark eyes. How did Dean ever land a woman like that? I ask myself. I could not compare to that beauty that was radiating off her. I look at Dean who was just staring at her. Lisa notices me and instantly I see something change in her eyes. Was it jealously?

"Lisa," Dean eventually chokes out. "You look amazing."

Lisa smiles a smile so big that I see one reason why Dean loved her. "Thank you, who's your friend?" She asks gesturing to me. I notice her manicured nails and look at my bitten and brittle nails. Still can't compete with her.

Dean is shocked back into reality. He turns to me and touches my shoulder. I look at him and see that he is looking me up and down with a smile on his face. I instantly blush and look at Lisa who clearly seeing the whole thing. Her eyes hardened. "This is YN," Dean says noticing Lisa's face. He slowly drop his hands.

"It's nice to meet you," Lisa says. "Will you be joining us?" She then asks. The tone is hardened too. I could tell that Dean heard it too.

"Well, sort of," I say smiling. "I'll be at the bar." I begin to slip away when Deans hand grabs my arm.

"Nope, you are sitting with us," Dean begins to pull me towards the waitress who had been waiting to sit us. In a low voice Dean whispered in my ear, "I need you by me for support."

Once we were seated and menus handed out. Dean, who is sitting next you, looks over the menu and then leans forward. "So," he says licking his lips. I notice Dean has a hard time looking at her in the eyes. "How's you get your memories back?" Whoa! To the point. Maybe Dean wouldn't go back to Lisa and her kid.

"Can't we order and eat and catch up first?" Lisa asks laughing nervously. "I mean, we have so much to talk about."

I look at Dean who is staring at the table. "Lis," he says. "There really isn't nothing to catch up on. I had yours and Bens memories of me and the life I live taken away from you. To protect you after you almost got killed. To protect Ben from ever having to go into this life. Just tell me how you got your memories back."

Lisa sits back and waves the waiter on the moment he arrives at the table. I make a small face because one, I need a strong drink for this and two, I was hungry and wanted a fat and juicy steak. "I guess you haven't changed much," she says. I rose an eyebrow and stare at Lisa.

"Whoa there," I say putting my hand on the table. "You don't know Dean at all. At least not anymore, so don't make comments like that because that makes you look like a bitch." Lisas eyes widened and I notice from the corner of my eyes Dean is looking at me. He doesn't cut in because he knows that once I start speaking like this, I won't stop until the thought is done. "I have been with the boys for two years. Deans past kills him. He has nightmare after nightmare some nights. He may be a dick at times but he has changed. So excuse him for wanting to know how you got your pathetic memories back. Now if excuse me, I need to splash my face with water or this water will end up in yours." I get up and let Dean know what to order me when the waiter got back.

Once I was in the bathroom I pull out my phone and call Sam. As the phone rings I sit on floor of the bathroom stall. I have no idea where all that came from. What Lisa said to Dean, set off a spark in me. I didn't appreciate how she spoke to him.

"Hey," Sam answered. "Hows it going with Lisa?" He asks.

"Lisa is a bitch," I say. "But thats not what I called you about. Hows the hunt? Did you finish it?" I needed a distraction for a bit or I was going to go out and say more things that I might regret.

"Yeah," Sam says. "I was able to talk to the murdered husband and he said that it was the best friend who killed him. While I was talking to him, I got a phone call saying that the wife died of a heart attack. The spirit was then salted and burned."

"Thats great," I say picking at a loose strand from my shirt. "I'm glad it went well and that the spirit was willing to listen."

"Now tell me why Lisa is a bitch," Sam wasn't going to let me off that easy.

"Let's just say, she looks at me like I'm a threat and tells Dean that he never changed." I rip the strand off and let it fall to the floor.

"Ah," Sam says.

"Yeah, anyway, I need to go before Deans thinks I ditched him." I hang up the phone and splash my face with water. I walk back to the table to see Dean getting up.

"We should get going," Dean says pulling out his wallet.

"Dean," Lisa stands up and blocks me from walking by. "It's never too late. We can still have what we had. I can live that life. Ben can have a father figure in his life."

Dean looks up and makes eye contact with me. I can tell that he already made his decision. "Lis," he says. "You can't. It almost killed you last time. Now stay here, buy whatever food you want and enjoy a nice dinner on me." Dean threw two 50s on the table. "Let's go," he says to me.

I squeeze passed Lisa and get a good look at her face. She is watching Dean as he walks away. She catches me watching and she looks away. I see a small tear fall down her face. What the hell happened while I was gone?

Back on the road, I waited an hour to talk to Dean. "What happened back there?" I ask. "Did you get the answers you wanted?"

Deans hands tightens on the wheel and pulls off to the side of road and put the impala in park. "Yeah." he stares ahead of him. "She started having these dreams about me. Went to an actual psychic who pulled her memories back. But not Bens. She said she wouldn't do that unless I got back with her." Dean looks at me and I watch as he grabs my hand in his. "I told her it was impossible. I told her I didn't feel that way about her anymore and had feelings for some else."

I felt my heart skip a beat. I knew he was talking about me. I used my free hand to grab his shirt collar and pull him to my lips.

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qqueenofhades · 5 years ago

Note

I don't think the masses would mind a cocky Asher getting put in his place by a 'your charm doesn't work on me, trash boy,' Maria. And Asher realizing he's met his match. Set in the early days of their meeting. If you feel so inspired.

The scent of incense and burned offerings drifts in the air, the daughters of Artemis hurry barefoot, in their flowing chitons and wreathes of flowers – all stopping to bob respectfully as they pass – and a few worshipers mingle in the forum below, among the fluted columns of the temple. It is early enough in the day, and far enough from any major festivals, that it is only the devout, and most of them are women. The men tend to go next door to make their offerings to Apollo, fiery sun god in his blazing chariot, but the women know the power of the moon, which marks the monthly blood or the turning of the tides – fierce Artemis, defender of maidens, just as is their priestess. Maria stands on high, admiring her kingdom, this realm where she rules as her own sort of queen. All in order, all is right. The morning rush of the city of Athens carries on beyond the walls, but here, they are sacrosanct, sacred, secluded. Safe. Here, they are –

Oh, Hera help her. He cannot possibly be here again.

Maria clenches a fist, mutters a particularly vulgar oath under her breath, and turns away in a whirl of fluttering white fabric, marching down the steps to where, for what is the frustratingly far from first time, Asherios Athos is leaning against the tiled wall with arms casually crossed. He has taken to this pose, Maria thinks, firstly because it makes him look lean and sleek as any athlete in the Olympiad, and secondly because surely he must know that it vexes her exceedingly to see him loitering about like this, without an apparent care in the world. Indeed, as she storms up, he glances at her and gets a look of great satisfaction (which means it worked, and that annoys Maria even more). “Ah,” he says, pushing himself off the wall with the flourish of a bow. “Priestess.”

“You again.” Maria comes to a halt a few feet away, tilting her chin back to glare at him more efficiently. “I have told you not to come to the temple unless you have an offering to make.”

“Perhaps I do.” He grins at her, teeth very white in the dark frame of his face, his black curls and olive skin burnished sun-gold, and she resents the small flutter it produces in her stomach. “But for the priestess, not the goddess.”

Maria takes a small step back. “I need none of your trinkets, Asherios.”

“Please.” He makes a brief, self-effacing gesture. “I have told you that you may call me Asher.”

“Asherios.” Maria folds her arms. “If you were to hang about any other temple as much as you do this one, they’d drive you out for being a public nuisance.”

“Oh, I have no need of other temples.” He sits down and pulls out a bunch of grapes, which he starts to eat with apparent unconcern. Upon seeing her staring at him in disbelief, he pulls one off the stem and offers it to her, as if that was truly what she was offended about. “Though a soldier must make his dues to Ares from time to time. And you and I know the gods differently from all these humans, do we not? A strange sort of kinship, almost. Though it is blood we must have, and not burnt offerings.”

Maria glances around warily. “Keep your voice down.”

“I would not betray you.” He looks up at her, entirely serious despite his teasing. “I only meant to say, I know it must be lonely.”

Rather than answer, Maria glances away. He is right, not that she would have him know that. She has been priestess here long enough that the girls in her service have grown up, have left the temple, have married and had children and come back wrapped in their shrouds, sometimes old and sometimes young, to have her say the rites for them one last time. She has grown used to it, but to be immortal among these short and fleeting lives… she does wonder if the gods see it the same. She knows they do not live on Olympus. She has climbed the mountain herself and seen no great temple of Zeus, no forge of Hephaestion. But something keeps her here nonetheless.

(It is not tall and cocky and supremely vexing soldiers sprawled out on the stone and eating grapes, that is to be certain. She would be entirely glad if those were to vanish altogether.)

“Get you out of here,” she says, after a moment too long. “I will not have my girls think that I permit men to lounge about as if this was a winesink or a brothel. And take your grapes with you, you degenerate.”

Asherios looks surprised, as well as perhaps genuinely baffled that she has not fallen over herself to sit down and ask to share them. He gets up and hands the rest of the vine to her; when she does not take them, he sets them on the ledge. “Well, I owe you those at least. I said I brought an offering, so I did. Shall I see you tomorrow?”

“You may go make your offering to Apollo tomorrow, if you must be in these temples at all.” Maria clenches her hands in her robe. “And then, so we all hope, have some campaign that takes you far from Athens.”

He smiles at her, unconcerned by her sharp words, looking indeed as if he enjoys them even more than ever, and she fights the unwelcome warmth in her chest. Asherios Athos is the least suitable man that could be imagined, even if he is a creature like her, and his clear belief that she must swoon into his arms eventually is even more aggravating. She does not care how elegant he looks in that toga and the strapped sandals, the shortsword buckled around his waist and the bronze shield that he wears slung on his back, the grace and ease of his movements as he strolls away. He glances back at her and tips half a salute, then steps down and out of sight. Impossible man.

Maria glances down at the grapes. She should by no means eat them, even if he is not here to see. Should leave them with the other offerings, or return them to the vineyard for wine. She does not need Asher – Asherios’ – gifts, or anything about him. She does not.

(He does not come the next day, and she hates herself for noticing.)

#timeless ff #asher x maria #tsas asks #ish #anonymous #ask #all souls au

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thimbleswrites · 5 years ago

Text

with the lights out, it’s less dangerous | the last time

Pairing: Frankie Dalton x Original Female Character

Genre: Angst / Drama

Word count: 4k

Warnings: love/hate relationship, implied smut, suicidal thoughts

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3884773/chapters/8685547

Author’s note: I wrote this a long time ago but I’m posting all my fics on my writing blog. I explain more about the Blood Donors concept in the a/n on A03 if anyone’s interested, click the link above.

Summary:

Anita, a human that Edward has been harboring in his house for years, struggles with the isolation of living as a fugitive in a world full of vampires. With the threat of being reduced to nothing but a Blood Donor looming just outside the walls of Edward's house, she must decide whether it is time to end it all or find a way to deal with the desolation.

But is the dangerous game she finds herself playing with Frankie Dalton, Edward's human-hunting brother, the best solution to her loneliness?

Set pre-Daybreakers.

Next: honesty hour

"Goddamn it, Frankie, I have until sundown to get some sleep before a shit load of work tomorrow – I'm not having this conversation again; it's done!"

A beat of silence follows the words as the dismissal rings heavy in the air and a resounding snarl tears through the tension. Anita grimaces at the sound of footsteps up the stairs and tries to press herself back against the hinged door, into nonexistence – a thin hand clawing at the threshold as she waits with bated breath.

No matter how many arguments she heedfully witnesses, how many times Edward tells her that she is safe after Frankie blows in and out of their lives over and over again, how many times she manages to make it just one more day without being caught and forced as a Blood Donor: the dread that makes her stomach clench in an almost paralyzing sort of fear is a constant reminder that she is never safe.

The comfort of safety is not a luxury she can afford – not anymore.

The years spent hiding with a decreasing amount of fellow human who had refused vampirism had not been wasted with pointless dreams of a secure future. Those days were harsh, dirty, and cruel – but in each other there was at least a small repose of normalcy. Humans living (well surviving, because what they had been doing was not actually living) with other humans.

A human living with one (sometimes two, she remembers with a tingle up her spine) vampires, though.

She wants to laugh at the thought of such an illusion as safety for someone in her position, but seeing as it's the one thing standing between her and becoming a daily juice box, she refrains. That is if she could remember how to laugh; the muscles surrounding her mouth are usually only ever exercised into a frown and she imagines that the act of straining them upwards might be foreign and difficult.

Her attempt at becoming a chameleon is at once deemed futile under the fierce gaze of Frankie Dalton as he passes in the hall. He's only just gotten back from his most recent tour of duty and as per usual he is staying at Edward's during his break, unable to afford an apartment he would scarcely ever use.

The first few days of his return are always the worst; Edward almost never remembers the day of Frankie's arrival and the latter's mood turns sour the moment he comes home to see his welcome party consists of one: a somewhat interested (and punctual; she doesn't have much to look forward to these days and even his return on the calendar is something) Anita holding a propped open book in one hand and the world's tiniest banner reading Welcome home, asshole! in her other as she lounges comfortably on a sofa in the office room, ready to leap to her crawl space at a moment's notice.

Just as she thinks that maybe, just maybe this time he will continue to his seldom-occupied bedroom and ignore her, he stops walking and looks her down as if she is a lower species; a turkey attending the Thanksgiving dinner. There is distaste clear in his eyes, rage too, and something even darker that she recognizes somewhere in the back of her mind but does not want to dwell upon.

Anita glowers bitterly up at him, willing him to feel her disgust at him, too, for him to know that this isn't exactly the ideal living situation for her either. A small part of her feels ashamed for those sort of thoughts – the last thing she wants Edward to think she is is ungrateful. She owes him her life, however useless it may be now.

Once, a couple years back, when on a supply raid with her group she had been wounded by a lone poor, starving vampire who had found them and attacked. Her party had left her there, assuming her to be dead, so it was not abandonment – not really, she would have done the same.

Self-hatred burns her insides with the knowledge that this new world – one with the rule of vampires and the hunt of humans like livestock – has charred her soul black to the core, a sense of meaningless survival (what is the point to her life?) taking control on instinct so that she has to fight every day to remember what humanity truly means.

But with an abundance of luck and patience on Edward's part, he had found her bleeding out (thankfully not infected; she'd rather die) and managed to get them both back to his place to nurse her back to health. Her constant attempts at his life or escaping had slowed things down considerably, but she eventually healed and came to the hard realization that her pack was gone. She knew by then they would be cities away and that she was alone. It was with little hesitance that Anita had accepted Edward's offer of shelter and food. Protection, too, but that was taken lightly.

She's never been one to depend on others; she likes to pull her own weight, and her current title of hidden house guest makes her restless. When she had first began living with Edward, she had offered him her blood – not straight from her veins, obviously, but with the proper equipment she would have given him enough, regularly but not nearly as much as she'd have to if she became a Blood Donor, to cushion the blow of his blood-bill. But he had refused; said he didn't drink human, and it would have been a lie to say she was too disappointed. The same offer was never given to Frankie – probably because she knows now, and knew then, that he would not have refused.

"Well, if it isn't the root of the problem." Frankie grinds out, his jaw clenched as he takes a step towards her. "Tell me – do you think Ed sees your face on the humans at his company or just dollar signs?"

She blinks indifferently, keeping her silence. They've danced to this song before, and honestly, she's grown too phlegmatic to be baited so easily.

"Probably not the money." He adds, his voice hard. "He pities you humans too much for his own good. And you in particular, doesn't he?" He chuckles darkly and points at her with his index finger. "No, you're his favorite little stray kitten – here to stay."

At his sneering words she looks back at the small opening across the small office that leads to the crawl space she spends her time in when the sun falls and darkness resumes – a pathetic excuse for living quarters but she is none the wiser, having been in worse conditions while on the streets. At least she has the sleeping bag to herself now.

She is allowed out during the day or when Edward is home and does not have company, but rarely downstairs and always, always she must be quiet (so quiet it is like she is not even there) in case the neighbors can hear. He cooks her food mostly (something she wishes she could do for herself; Edward is an appallingly bad chef) and she is permitted to have a shower every few days even though she has to use his toiletries. She does not mind much, though – things like that have not been a problem for her in a good long while.

It is not that Edward wants to keep her on a short leash so much as he is very meticulous in ensuring that she remains hidden, for his sake and hers. Every single thing is planned and routine; if he is to buy too much extra food or household necessities or if his guest notice that he seems to be housing three occupants, it might raise unwanted suspicion that would be better to avoid entirely. Paranoid, maybe, but it works. And although she will never dare to complain, living in such circumstances is taking the wear and tear out of her.

While food comes easier now than what she has been used to (having been malnourished since she was barely a teen) she is still unhealthy; her skin too pale from the lack of sunlight and the natural growth of her body stinted by the crawl space, making her appear pinched, and so much smaller than she should, too emaciated and frail to the point where she wants to avoid mirrors at all cost on some days. The perpetual dark rims under her grey eyes from many sleepless nights give her the appearance of a ghost, and her hair is almost always in a wild tangle of mousy blonde strands, but sometimes on her more vain days, she manages to run her fingers through it enough to tame the mess. Throughout every thing that has been lost to the war of vampires against humans, vanity seems to trail behind her in a race to catch up; not quite there but never too far behind either.

She looks hollow, dead in the eyes, and it's only fitting, really – she feels the same way.

Anita wishes that she could take pride in her quiet strength – she yearns to think of herself as one of the heroines from the books she reads to assuage her boredom (Edward has books everywhere, scattered in piles in all the nooks and crannies of the house and then some), biding her time before she can join the Revolution with her fellow humans, but honestly, the fear and cowardice that is still present, hidden beneath the bitter sorrow and ferocious contempt, only makes her feel weak. Weak from the tears that wet her pillow at night when she is by herself in the crawl space, holding her arms around her middle as if it will help the sickness, left with nothing but thoughts of death and blood and the unfairness of life.

She misses her family more than she ever thought she would, and it's unbearable because it leaves a gaping, festering hole in her chest that makes her want to lie still until she just stops breathing. At those times, more than usual, it stumps her how anybody could want to live forever. It's a consuming, mindless sort of grief that leaves her breathless and exhausted, hating herself for dwelling on the past when her current standing in the food chain demands all the focus she has.

Anita hates weakness.

And Frankie makes her feel weak.

Especially when he is this close to her, his head tilted down so he can meet her wide eyes, and his body so near her that she can feel the coolness of him. She hates the terror it instills in her at the thought that he can infect her with a smile on his face and her flesh in his teeth if he so desires. And he does desire it – he's told her so, after the two brother's verbal throw down matches over Edward's aiding and abetting a human criminal in his own house, a house that Frankie inhabits ("By knowing and not saying anything it makes me an accomplice, Ed!"). Edward thinks his threats of turning them in are empty ("He won't say anything . . . he owes me." Ed told her once when she had voiced her concerns) and he hasn't yet, however, Anita wouldn't put it past him. She can't turn a corner in a house that Frankie's in without having a threat to turn her thrown in her face.

Even more than that, though, she absolutely despises the other feelings he sparks in her too. The ones that make her flush with heat in her veins and an ache between her thighs from the longing to be close to someone again. Anita despises him for being a selfish monster and she despises him even more when he's not. She despises the salacious want he infixes in her when he glances up with sharp, trained eyes from whatever he is doing to watch her walk back to the office after a shower when she is in only a towel. But more than anything, anything else she despises herself for having allowed him to toy with those feelings periodically over the last four months.

As Frankie stares at her, something akin to understanding glints in his eyes and he takes a quick step in her direction, making her fall back two. After a moment she has enough sense to worry he might have recognized the look in her eyes as more than offense at his words. There is a familiar sort of triumph in his voice as he sneers, "Something bothering you, pet?"

The sound of the taunting sobriquet he had long ago christened her coming from his lips is far too palatable for her to handle so she imagines what the screams of the humans he has hunted and forced into the Blood Revenue Agents hands would sound like instead, so loud and terrible that it can banish those bad, bad feelings that surround her off to another place where things that are wrong go to.

For the moment, it works.

"Yes – you are standing too close," Anita finally murmurs, and something frightening in her roars at the covetous flash in his eyes as they narrow at her, but she silences it by biting her tongue, unable to resist the opportunity to wipe the smirk off of his face. "And I can still smell the blood of my people marring your precious honor, sir."

The corners of his mouth twist down at her mockery and he raises his chin, trying to intimidate her with his authority, but the vampire soldier card no longer makes her shrink in fear as it once did. She has had quite a bit of time in the weeks of Frankie's absence to prepare herself for his overwhelming presence that has always had a different effect on her than Edward's. She will no longer permit herself to be a distraction for him to amuse himself with whenever he likes purely because he can. She is more than his filthy little secret, and certainly better than him.

Her lips thin and she brings herself to full height, which is only a wee few inches shorter than him, but still her neck cranes up slightly to meet his gaze. She has pushed off from the door and he moves backwards to avoid physical contact. The fact that he is the one who falls back weighs heavy on him and his frown deepens in anger.

His relentless harassment over the years has been all too entertaining for him because of the easy prey she has always presented him with. His ability to read her like an open book is almost congenital – Frankie knows Anita to her very core; her thoughts, her fears, her dreams, he knows exactly what to do to provoke her. He can send her into a furious rage with a few casual words or tear her apart by a single deliberate look. But now the game has changed. She has surprised him with this sign of defiance; this charge of offensive play, and he does not know how to react to it.

A small thrill shoots through her from his falter, and the courage it gives her comes out in the smooth words she spits into his face, "Something bothering you, Frankie?"

She can almost taste victory in her mouth when his ochroid eyes flash and he quickly leans into her, a smirk curling onto his face, making her stumble back away from him and warily glance at the protruding fangs that press into his pale lower lip. He smiles widely to show her his teeth more clearly; a wolf's grin, and watches her clenched jaw tremble beneath the unspoken threat, eyes dancing and alight with the prospect of a challenge.

"Careful now, pet, wouldn't want to cross lines you can't come back from, would you?" He cautions.

The air feels weighted with the tension, as if electricity is crackling against her skin, sending sparks through her nervous system but she holds her ground and straightens. The warning is obvious in his voice; he wants her to know that he is in control. She hates that.

He is so close she can feel his breath fanning her face, and although it makes hers come in faster than she would care to admit, Anita resists the urge to swivel her head to the side. "Fuck your lines."

The curse word feels strange on her tongue, although she is pleasantly surprised at the evenness of her tone, and she enjoys his confounded look at her having taken a page from his book – he frequently uses the crude terms, and at least one adolescent innocent tendency has always made her wince when he casually refers to them – but it had sounded sharp and primitive and she is impressed by herself. She instantly realizes that she likes how fierce it makes her feel.

"Ooh, such language, Nita. Wouldn't expect it from you." He grins at her, his tongue grazing briefly over one fang, so quickly that she barely notices it with a sweeping sensation sent straight to her toes, and continues, "And while I appreciate that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, maybe you should mind your manners for now. After all, pets who misbehave must be . . . castigated."

Her knees quake, nearly giving out at his tone: almost a teasing threat, and that realization makes her stomach flutter in equal parts fright and excitement. She inhales deeply, pulling down the frayed sleeves of her sweater past her fingers.

Frankie's smile fades as his mouth contorts into a thoughtful expression and his eyes size her up. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but she is not sure if it is because of the dread in her stomach or the heat that flames in her cheeks and along her ears when he steps forward with his arms extended out on either side of her head, efficiently trapping her between the door and his body. He pushes a strand of hair from her darting eyes with a gentle motion; a mocked sign of affection, and lets the tip of his finger rest on her temple.

He is pushing her, stretching their interaction like a rubber band, testing to see how far he can go before she breaks. He doesn't have to push far this time – a simple movement; he bites gently and deliberately into his lower lip and his eyes drop to her mouth – and then she is shoving his arms away scathingly, hitting him with her fist as she turns to her crawl space.

Frankie catches her readily around her waist and flings her back against a wall, grabbing her wrists in his hands when she tries to struggle and pinning them above her head. His face is close enough to hers that she can clearly see the smile lines in his right cheek when the corner of his lip quirks up in that crooked grin that makes her loathe these moments with him as much as she secretly looks forward to them, although, she will never admit the hold he has on her; a strong fist around her rotting heart, forcing it to pulsate when the beats begin to degenerate.

Sometimes she wishes he would just let her die.

He thrusts a knee between her legs, pressing his body onto hers, and she can't breathe – she can't even muster the energy to ignore the way her body responds to the familiar feeling of him against her; the way her hips cant upwards into him, all but unwillingly.

And sometimes she wants nothing more than this.

"Fuck you." Anita seethes, because he looks so smug, like such a smug bastard that her blood practically boils and she feels alive.

"Hm, fuck me?" Frankie muses. "You're being rather straightforward today."

"Well, you know what they say." She returns with a sharp grin on her face that she saves just for him. "Bold is beautif – oh!"

He had ducked down into her neck, his mouth opened wide, and for only a moment she considers that he is finally making good on his threat to tear into her jugular vein, but it's not his teeth. It's his tongue, and she thinks that might be worse. He's kissing the base of her throat, ravaging the skin there (because Anita will shit a brick if she ever sees Frankie being tentative in his actions), and it almost hurts; she knows there will be a bruise there in a few hours.

There always is.

"Wait." She protests wearily, her heart beating a tattoo of his name onto her rib cage. "You said it was the last time. We agreed – we agreed the last time was it."

"I changed my mind." He says easily, his mouth trailing up to her jaw. "God, you're so fucking warm."

And the low, guttural sound of his voice makes her knees actually give out this time. He only tightens his fingers around her wrists, though, and his thigh between her legs keeps her upright, but oh – his thigh between her legs. She trembles.

Her eyes fall closed with a pleased, drawn out sigh and he lets out a breathy laugh.

"You want this just as much as I do, don't you, pet?" He taunts, scraping his fangs lightly over her skin.

Anita growls but before she can retort he presses his lips to hers and kisses her in a way that only he's ever done; hard, deep, angry. He releases her right hand and she presses her palm to the nape of his neck, holding him in place as she responds to his jabbing remark by nipping at his bottom lip. She makes a noise at the back of her throat when his tongue invades her mouth.

He's cold – all vampires are. But Anita doesn't see it like they do in the old YA novels about the then-mythical vampire, it is not just some side effect of being a dashing creature of the night like the young heroines think it is; it's one of the things she hates the most when she's with Frankie like this, because it reminds her that he is dead. He has no pulse, no heartbeat. Frankie is cold like a corpse, a walking disease.

This thought gives her resolve a burst of renewed strength and she tugs her other hand free from his grasp, holding tightly to his shirt as she pants, "We can't keep doing this." But even as the words leave her, she allows her hand to drift down towards his stomach, feeling the taut muscles of his abdomen beneath her exploring fingers.

Jesus, help me, Anita thinks desperately, he's my Kryptonite.

He's undeterred – his mouth hovering over hers, golden eyes watching her intently as his hands go to her hips and he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of her pants. "Why not?" He asks, softly, the words drifting over her lips.

She pauses, distracted by the way his fingers stroke circles onto her skin.

He smiles at her hesitancy, touching his lips lightly to hers.

The tenderness throws her into momentary surprise, but he suddenly grips the back of her thighs and lifts her up, propping her against the wall as her legs lock instinctively around his waist, and there's nothing tender about what's digging into the inside of her thigh. She gasps when his hands slide up her sweater, one at the small of her back and the other on her breast.

She kisses him fervidly, nearly slicing open her tongue on his fang, and cradles his jaw in her hands – he grins into her mouth, apparently satisfied by her response, and her body screams this is the last time, just once more.

"I'm not into necrophilia – you son of a bitch," Anita murmurs, short of breath, but even she hears the fond way the words are spoken.

"Shut up," Frankie groans as his mouth goes to her collarbone, his hand tugging one of her legs higher over his hip while his groin steadily rocks into the apex of her thighs as if to prove his next words, "D'you think I want to want this? I've taken playing with my food to an all new level."

And she doesn't even try to stop the morbid laugh that leaves her as he carries her to his bedroom.

It's the last time, after all.

#daybreakers #frankie dalton #edward dalton #daybreakers fanfiction #frankie x original charcter #michael dorman #thimbles fics

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dragaoel · 5 years ago

Text

Jun'ichirō, aka Jun (- Silverdell)

the volume of the radio slowly dwindles down and only static noise is left to be heard

"those are dangerous words"

"not for him " Anja replies, her head laying on her outstretched arm that's on the table , her whole posture the embodiment of laziness. "loved ones always have it easier here"

"Not always" Jun says grimly and glances out of the window" it's because he's an outsider that he's allowed more freedom than any of us"

"aren't you a loved one too?"

Jun sighs deeply and turns towards the albino girl. For a second ,pain , frustration and a hint of panic can be seen in his eyes before it vanishes. He lets out a bitter laugh.

"and you saw where that lead me to,half dead in a ditch"

INTRODUCTION JUN :

half japanese half black

has waist long black thick hair and brown skin

has a ‘’prince in anguish’’ aura but masks it with him being over the top ridiculous and dramatic

is 5′11

born 12th october (libra)

‘‘the risk i took was calculated, but man, am i bad at math’‘

Jun is my favourite character, i made him on a whim as a side character in a old story and then i started using him more and more as a background character until i realized the potential he had. He's also one of the character whom i put into a lot of different aus, the most favourite one was where he was a vampire who loved laying in the garden and eat roses all day

Rukiya (-Though the god’s have left)

‘‘i have dreams about them’‘ Rukiya says and plucks a string on her bass. The deep note rumbles through the room and her short curls moves along as she drops her head lower

‘‘i'm high in the sky, looking down onto a land that seems oh so familiar, with people screaming at me asking me to help them’‘

‘’do you understand them? ‘’ a band member asks

‘‘weirdly i do’‘ Rukiya answers ‘‘ it seems to be in my native language but also not, as if it was way before everything happened, you know, the ancient time’‘

INTRODUCTION RUKIYA :

Out of the both of them Rukiya is the older twin by 4 minutes

she’s also the artsy one than her sister whos into sports

wears black literally 24/7 and has dark circles despite sleeping enough

is 5′9

is black (kenyan)

mole on the left side of her cheek

fluent in her native tongue kiswahili

Majors in Film

loves anything that has to do with space nd aliens

born 24th january (aquarius)

has a sweet tooth

*cocks gun* ‘’basements haunted’’

i like the idea of twins that are completely the opposite of each other. Rukiya just like Imara have a big chunk of my personality in them, it's just that i lean more towards Rukiya than Imara.

Akiho (-Though the god’s have left)

Kneeling down, she cocks her head to the side, her eyes cold and her lips pressed into a thin line ‘’ dont think your actions won't have consequences’’ she sneers ‘’ the next time i see you harassing another girl again i'll make you wish you were never born’’

Akiho dusts herself , picks up the bat , glances one last time at the boy laying on the floor and walks away, the echoes of her shoes the only noise to be heard

INTRODUCTION AKIHO :

is 5′4

majors in theater

her fashion style is y2k

is the other one of the dumbass duo

has freckles on her nose

is japanese

doesn't like sweet things usually eats traditional sweets made by her mom or things that are sour/bitter, but salty food has to be spicy asf

born, 14th april (aries)

her side teeth are really pointy

has long peach colored straight hair

‘‘I’d sell you to satan for one corn chip’‘

Akiho comes from a family of 3, she's the youngest sibling and she has that energy. She likes to play with her oldest brother children, doesn't want any on her own though. will fight anyone who is disrespectful, esp towards women

Hyunjin (-Though the god’s have left)

The tall girl slumps her body onto her girlfriend shoulder, watching her fry the fish in the pan into charcoal. Hyunjin wrinkles her nose in a attempt to push the glasses up without having to actually touch them, before she sighs deeply.

‘‘Just-’‘ she starts and softly takes ‘‘let me do it, otherwise you'll burn the kitchen down like last time’‘

Praveena puffs her cheeks up ‘’that actually wasn't my fault, it was the gasherd-’’

‘‘i know i know’‘ Hyunjin chuckles and kisses her cheek ‘‘but i have a exam tomorrow and i would like not not have an indigestion’‘ she frowns and flips the fish over and sighs. It seems the fish can’t be saved anymore.

INTRODUCTION HYUNJIN :

korean

has short dyed blue hair, but the back part is longer than the front part.

is ‘5′10

majors in engineering technology

born 14th may (taurus)

has literally no sense of style and wears glasses cause she has a slight astigmatism that you can't really see

has a mole next to her right eye

‘‘a financially unstable mess but at the liquor store they call me ma’am’‘

honestly out of all the characters i draw hyunjin the most. In the beginning she had shoulder length but then i shortened it because i liked it more. She's an only child and her mother runs a bakery while her father works in a office. She's the calm type that's constantly tired because she never sleeps

Praveena (-Though the god’s have left)

She shuffles the cards and lays them out on the table. The customers sees the fool, the moon and the star. Praveena touches them with her fingertips ‘’ you seem to be either at the beginning or at the end of a new journey ’’ she pauses and thinks ‘’but either way you're prepared for what is to come’’

The customers nods ‘’i'm soon moving away from this city’’

‘‘I see’‘ Praveena counters and points at the next card ‘‘the moon indicates that you’re hesitant and fearful in your decision, there might be something from the past that is holding you back and influencing you in the present and possibly the future

the customer tenses up, her eyes fixed on the card and her lips tight

‘‘though’‘ Praveena continues ‘‘at the end you’ll be at peace and glad that you pushed through all the turbulences

INTRODUCTION PRAVEENA :

tamil ,dark skin with long wavy violet dyed hair

Hyunjin’s girlfriend

has calm energy but is also very erratic

loves astrology & tarot

majors in psychology

5′5

born 20 july (cancer)

has droopy eyes

‘‘god cant help you now’‘

i made praveena cause i wanted a harmonious wlw couple, that have that ‘’old married pair’’ plus out of all the ocs those two are the ones that i drew first. Praveena has the tendency to blow things up how though is a mystery and hyunjin always has to clean up everything.

Imara (-Though the god’s have left)

‘‘no listen, it doesn't make sense why would you wear a bra and some tight ass pants knowing you’re about to fight people who have knives and GUNS?’’ Imara asks perturbed.

‘‘Cause men are horny’‘ Rukiya retorts and raises an eyebrow

‘‘still doesn't make sense like wow!, some fucking boobs, like really? really? is that what gets you going? just some breast pressed up in a bra that is too damn tight and a flat stomach on a skinny ass girl that has absolute no muscles despite the training she went through?

Rukiya sighs ‘’ is this about-’’

‘‘lara croft yes’‘ Imara interrupts and slams her finger on the table ‘‘and im going to die on this hill that men shouldn't be allowed to create games!’‘

INTRODUCTION IMARA:

plays games a lot, esp the loz series

has curly dyed blonde hair that's mostly tied in a ponytail or a bun because she cant be bothered with it, though rukiya helps her all the time cause she never really learned how to deal with curly hair.

Is on a baseball sponsorship because she's that good (she's a pitcher)

is totally tone deaf unlike her twin

isnt good with crows ie: strangers crowding around her after her team won a game

is kenyan

5′9

has a mole next to her upper lips on the left side

loves 90's rnb & hip hop music

‘‘he proclaimed his undying love and asked me to do the same, i had to overcome my desire to laugh’‘

Imara does have a slight complex about being a twin because she feels like Rukiya is the cooler one despite people loving her too. She's loud and boisterous basically a chad, but better. She's dorky and literally spends her free time gaming but she doesn't just play any game shes v specific when it comes to that. Her mom always has a headache because of her but thats okay but in the end her mom loves her to death.

Ava (-Though the god’s have left)

‘’do you you know how much it's sucks that at the end of all of this , i'm the one waiting for them?’’ Ava exclaims ‘’that i'm the one who will have to watch them go through the door to be evaluated? that i'm ultimately the end?

‘‘you’re not all alone-’‘

‘‘you don't understand’’ Ava interrupts, as she points at the short girl ‘’ i will have to watch my mom, my family that raised me go through that door and know that that will be the last time i will see them in that body!’’

INTRODUCTION AVA:

She’s haitian

keeps her hair in a short chin length dark blue bob

majors in sociology

she and akiho are the ‘’comedy duo’’ of the group

is 5′6

born 4th november (scorpio)

‘‘my only crime was that i was down to clown’‘

When i make akiho i felt like she needed a companion so i made ava, both of them were inspired by the early 2000 shows characters. Although Ava likes to goof around she's also very studious and serious about her future. She comes from a family of 6 and she’s the second oldest. She and her older sister fight constantly

Nïrnaya (Dawn over the horizon)

‘‘Magic’‘ the elf stars, her tall stature hunched over the herbs ‘’ is in the nature we’re surrounded in, in the mountains that stand high and the rivers that flow into the deep sea’’

she straightens up and walks over to Nïrnaya ‘’ we might lose everything.’’ She pokes the girl on the forehead ‘’but magic will forever stay with you because its the core of your being‘’

INTRODUCTION NÏRNAYA :

shes a mischievous 15 year old

has black curly long hair that are mostly braided

does not want to do this whole adventure thing because of how it reminds her too much of the ‘’chosen one trope’’ and thats too much responsibilities

born during the year of the earth dragon

‘‘snacking between meals is the least, but tastiest, of my problems’‘

i came up with this story and character because i wanted a book where a black girl for once was the main character, where she could experience the same thing as other mc (ie eragon etc) basically i wanted black representation in a medieval-esque world but with my own spin because the world itself is not very western like

#writeblr #character introduction #original character #writer #hua's word #writers on tumblr #writeblr community #character intro post #oc moodboard

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writerman · 6 years ago

Note

Modern elronbarduil. Bard is a cab driver, Thran is a the CEO of his own company, who just happens to be blind, and Elrond is an ER doctor. Now Thran some how gets injures at work but instead of call an ambulance, he calls a cab because he doesn't want to make a fuss. Bard is the cab driver and is worried about Thran, so offers to help get him inside the hospital and stays with him. Elrond is the doctor attending Thran.

//I am sorry but I didn’t make Thranduil blind in this one. I did, however, have a lot of fun writing this so this is where my confidence crashes and burns because now the world wide web get to read it... or ignore it ahahaha.

Enjoy, friendo!

THIS IS THE LONGEST PROMPT I’VE WRITTEN TO DATE!

Honestly, Bard had not expected his first fare of the afternoon to be a man bleeding from the temple, a well dressed, suited and booted kind of high flying exec kind of man… He was really bleeding, and from the rear view mirror he could not quite see where the blood was coming from but it ran down the man’s face with ease and dripped onto the grey suit he wore steadily.

“Uh… I know you’re not ok but are you ok?” Bard asked turning round to look at his customer properly, the guy was beautiful, angel fallen from Heaven masquerading as a man, beautiful.

Long straight blond hair, nearly white, piercing blue eyes and flawless skin, a jaw that could cut glass and all those other analogies that described the classic beauty of men.

Pale as milk though, either he had been bleeding for quite some time or he did NOT like the sight of blood, either way it was concerning.

The blond looked startled when Bard spoke, as though he had expected the cab to be self driven rather than by a flesh and blood human with thoughts and feelings. He lifted his hand to touch the blood and it smeared over his fingers staining the pale skin easily, all the while nodding slowly as though this was common place and he bled all the time from the head.

“So… Where do you need to go?” His whole body felt tense, this kind of felt like one of those scenes from a movie where he is infected by a virus and becomes a zombie because he just HAD to help the pretty one.

That’s how they get you, the zombies, they show up being pretty humans all the while the virus is working through them and suddenly you turn around to check on your passenger and BAM Zombie time and you’re dead.

He reeeeally hoped this guys asked for a doctor or a ride to the hospital because, damn, he was losing blood like no tomorrow.

Bard made the executive decision that he was taking the man to the hospital regardless and put the car in motion, not explaining his actions though he realised he was not asked any questions, or given any instructions… it was then Bard realised that the guy must have been in shock.

Once at the hospital Bard parked up, threw some money in a parking meter and eased the silent, still bleeding, man from the car, he spoke softly as if to keep this blond stranger at ease, as though he was some kind of easily spooked horse.

He looked like he owned horses, like 10 of them and had a son called Tarquin and they placed croquet on the lawn of their massive mansion.

Probably had house staff too.

Bard realised that was unfair, just because he wore a nice suit didn’t mean anything, he had a nice suit too, it was reserved for funerals and weddings, he had one and only one and when he wore it people thought he was important too, and not a cab driver in a city where his face blurred together with thousands of other brunet men with beards….

Further problems arose when he tried to check the man in to see a doctor, he had no idea what his name was, or even some semblance of an address, he barely registered the street he had been on when the blond had climbed into the car.

So far the only thing that had shown Bard the guy was aware of anything was when he nodded earlier, and he was sure that was just an automatic response to the question ‘Are you ok?’, because most people nod when asked that question.

Apparently standing at the reception of a hospital was good luck because a doctor ran towards them yelling something that was probably a name, ah, yes it was a name.

“Thranduil, oh Gods, what happened to you?!” This doctor was handsome, did beautiful people just attract other beautiful people, was this a cult?

While Bard stared at the two of them in bisexual, the brunet doctor that had jogged toward them turned to Bard for an explanation, and all Bard could do, and he did it so eloquently, was shrug.

“He got into my cab just bleeding like crazy from the head, he hasn’t spoken a word so I thought I would just bring him here…”

“You did the right thing, I will take things from here, thank you for your caring for him-” He was cut off as he tried to lead Thranduil off, the blond reached out and grabbed Bard by the wrist and would not move until he did.

“Ah, it seems you are coming with us, even in shock he recognises a catch when he sees one.” Inappropriate time to flirt when his friend was just stood silently bleeding like some kind of silent haunted house actor…

Were they friends?

Still, someone thought he was handsome, even though they both looked like Gods walking the earth amongst mere mortal men. Bard realised he had to take what he could get, even if it was a fleeting flirting opportunity from a doctor.

Before he could speak Thranduil, weirdly nice name, tugged at Bard and pulled him closer to his side, he slung his arm over his shoulder before his legs gave way and both Bard and the handsome doctor moved to steady him.

“Maybe he needs to sit down…?” Bard suggested and the doctor, who had the humility to look embarrassed, nodded and steered the weakening man toward a private room.

Thranduil was put on a bed and the doctor, who finally introduced himself a Elrond Peredhel, saw to the wound, he explained that wound was not deep but were it was situated was causing the blood to flow easily, the skin on the scalp was thinner he said.

Bard had no idea about any of this stuff so he just nodded.

“This man is not supposed to be working, this man is meant to be on bedrest.” Elrond quipped, the dig at his patience apparently brought him back to himself and Thranduil managed to roll his eyes, he looked to Bard and gave a soft smile.

“Thank you.” He whispered, his voice so damned deep and velvety and amazing, oh man, Bard needed to sit down after two words. He pulled himself round long enough to pull a chair up to the bedside and sit by the blond.

“I admit, you scared me back there in the taxi being all silent and bloody, I had visions of you trying to slit my throat or something.” It was a ridiculous thing to say and he regretted saying it instantly but the sound of Thranduil’s quiet laugh eased his insecurities for a moment.

The blond winced as though laughing hurt him, and Elrond placed a hand on his shoulder to soothe him as he worked on cleaning the wound, some of Thranduil’s hair was now stained red from the blood, but he did not seem to care all that much, or he hadn’t realised.

“I owe you so much, I could not speak and yet you brought me right where I need to be with who I need to be with.” Elrond and Thranduil shared a loving smile between them and Bard put the pieces together.

Husbands. Probably.

Well, they had flirted with him so they seemed relaxed so maybe very long time husbands?

Not that it mattered.

“Also thought you might have been a zombie.” Bard admitted quietly, which had Thranduil laughing again, and Gods it went right to his centre.

He suppressed a pleasant shudder, ignoring Elrond's knowing look.

“A zombie only before his morning coffee,” The doctor started, he rested a hand on Thranduil's shoulder before he spoke again, “Did you just swoon?”

This time Bard was the one to have the decency to blush and look away from the two.

"Ah, I thought so, he has that effect on everyone. Though so far you are the only one sensible enough to grab a chair and to respect that he may be in a relationship.

It's alright, you can flirt with him.

You can flirt with both of us."

Well, that was… interesting. So far Elrond had been quite vocal about his interest in Bard but Thranduil hadn’t said anything, and Bard was not sure it was alright for Elrond, even if he was married to the blond, to just offer the others affections so easily.

While in thought the two took the opportunity to whisper between themselves, some sort of debate, Bard wasn’t actually listening.

Eventually he made the decision that it was time for him to go. He had to earn a wage and sitting around in a hospital was losing him rent money for the month.

“Now that I know you’re alright I should probably go. I still have a job to do and while I do not necessarily have a boss I still need to make sure I make enough that I don’t have to work too late tonight.

It was great meeting you both even given the circumstances.

I hope you manage to keep him on bedrest this time.” Bard looked to Elrond as he said the last part and he got to his feet ready to depart.

“Thank you, again for bringing him here. I truly hope we meet again.” Elrond spoke with as much sincerity as he could muster without it sounding as though he was mocking Bard.

With that they parted ways.

It was a month after that Bard saw the two again.

He had been playing a zombie apocalypse game while the car idled at the side of the road, there didn't seem to be much foot traffic where he had parked up so he took the chance to try and level up his mobile game.

When the door opened behind his seat and someone slid in he paid them no mind, he was going to wait until they'd settled before he gave them any attention, that was until…

A pair of hands slid to his shoulders and squeezed almost pinching him.

Then a rumbling voice in his ear spoke.

“Still hoping for zombies, are we?” The tone amused and, dammit, the shiver that spiked down Bard's spine… the hairs on his arms stood on end and his heart beat leapt to a pace faster than he believed ever possible.

“Thranduil, leave him alone, he looks like he might have a heart attack.” Oh, yeah, it was definitely the dream duo he had absolutely NOT been thinking about since they first met… Elrond Peredhel and his husband Thranduil.

Two fantastically beautiful men that had taken a shine to Bard as though he wasn’t some grimy cab driver with untamed curls and bags under his eyes that could fill a baggage claim at Heathrow.

Doing his best to calm himself before he looked round, he sighed inwardly when the blond let go of his shoulders to sit back in his seat, Bard took a cleansing breath as quietly as he could and turned to offer the couple a bright smile.

“Well, hello, you two. Long time no see… so, where am I taking you tonight?” It was 6pm and the sun was sinking behind the high rise buildings around them- the night would come alive soon enough and Bard actually wanted to get home before any party-goers tried to hail him for a ride.

“Well, we were just going to go home but maybe coffee first, we’d love it if you could join us?” Elrond slid an arm around Thranduil’s shoulders as he spoke and pulled him so they were right up against one another side by side, their shoulders right down to their feet touching down one side.

“Uh… well, I was just going to go home after this fare…” Bard trailed off at the, frankly sorrowful, disappointed look he was given from both of them, so rather than argue he just nodded. “Alright, where would you like to go?”

They ended up in a small coffee shop, it advertised that it was open all night long and so far it was fairly quiet, Bard suspected the usuals that haunted the place would show up at the wee hours of the morning, sporting smudge make-up, tousled hair from brief intimate encounters and being more than just hungover as they sipped hot coffee full of sugar and cream before they could even begin to think of heading home…

It seemed like a trendy spot, Thranduil and Elrond stood out like peacocks against the vintage surroundings in their crisp fitted shirts and, what was probably, ridiculously expensive slacks and boots.

Smart casual.

Yet they looked across as Bard as though hungry hyenas and he was dinner for the night.

Hadn’t they just eaten?

“You don’t have to look so scared of us, but… we did have a proposition for you if you would be so kind as to allow us a moment to explain?” Thranduil began, he picked up a drinks menu from off the table in front of him and perused it casually, his eyes flitting to Bard occasionally and he offered a very sultry smile.

Bard felt nervous, like a bug near a venus fly trap but he was also a little hot under the collar, he didn’t image a look could ever have that effect on him but… well… there he was flushed.

The ye olde expression of ‘Mark me down as scared and horny…’.

“I’ll cut to the chase, let you breathe a little afterwards. We like you Bard,” Elrond began, he waved away a waitress that approached with a genuine smile before turning back to Bard. “We are a couple but we were hoping your interest in us was not solely a fanciful day dream. Thranduil and I would like to take you out and, perhaps with time, you would accept us, even love us and let our duo become a trio?” There was a long pause after Elrond said his peace and so Thranduil and he ordered drinks, and after a moment coaxed an order out of Bard.

He felt as though a hurricane had rushed over him and he was left windswept and out of breath.

Were they suggesting a three way relationship?

He had to admit, and admit it very quietly, even in his own head, that he had thought about that would be like… they seemed fun and flirty, but what were they like behind closed doors?

He didn’t feel threatened by them or actually afraid, and gods, he had seen the look of love they had shared between them back at the hospital.

Could that be him?

“I want to get to know you both better.” The words blurted out, his mouth and brain had not discussed this and yet there he was talking, all the while his brain is in disarray ‘We talked about this mouth, you have to run things by me first!’ but again his mouth ignored his brain and he spoke again.

“I am interested in both of you, I want to try this.”

All hope was lost for his mouth and his brain logged out for the rest of the evening.

With his acceptance of the couple, Elrond and Thranduil moved to sit next to him, one on each side, they wrapped their arms around him and welcomed him in to the fold.

“We shall show you a good time, so much so that you could not imagine being without us, let us love you.”

...and so, he did.

#long post #thranduil #bard the bowman #barduil #bard #elbaruil #elrond #the hobbit #writing prompts #writing #mypackpride

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pbandjesse · 6 years ago

Text

I love my scarf so much. I did not actually wear it outside at the house. I wear a jacket. But I've had that scarf on pretty much all day. It is the best scarf even if it sheds a lot.

Today was a good day I did not accomplish everything I wanted to accomplish but I did a lot. I slept really well last night. Had very bizarre dreams. But I got up and felt good. I woke up and had biscuits for breakfast. Got dressed and walk to the grocery store. I brought my grandma card and bought lots of food for the week. I am trying to eat at home more this week. Especially since my hours are very weird. I wandered around for a bit and then went home. I am packed everything and then I had it over to Eddie's to get a couple things I can't get at streets Market. I biked over to Eddie's though and was only there for a couple minutes. I still need to get milk and I'll probably have to get eggs at some point but for now it's fine. I used my heart boiled egg cooker to while I was gone and didn't check the eggs but I'm assuming they're okay. I'm very excited about my hard-boiled egg maker though and I really hope that I can figure out the best time frame to leave them in there to cook.

Once I got everything unpacked I made lunch. I rested for a little while and made some plans. And then I headed out to go catch the bus. I left a little bit earlier than I really need to because I wanted to get the earlier bus just in case. I think I am going to be able to get away with getting the 12:30 bus. But just so that I get used to when I'm getting off going 20 minutes early. It's nice that that bus runs so often though.

It was nice and sunny out. There's a chill in the air but I was never uncomfortable or anything. In either direction. Hot or cold. I had a nice talk with an old man at the bus stop. And then the bus came. And it was a nice ride. It's like a 25-minute ride and it's very comfortable. I got up to Wildwood and like I said I was like a half an hour early. So I walked around the neighborhood.

The neighborhood very much reminds me of Mayfair in Philadelphia. It's mostly row houses with little front yards. Lot of Old Stone. In the direct neighborhood it's all houses in churches. There's not even a corner store. I think maybe at some point I'll try to wander out a little bit farther and see if there's somewhere to eat. Now that I really plan on it but just in case something happens and I have to get something close by.

When I got there Fitsum was already there and said that Tiffany wasn't in yet. So we sat in the waiting room and talked. We accidentally both were wearing the same outfit. Well not exactly. We're both wearing brown jackets and are in shirts. And I made us laugh. It seems like we are going to be together but it's still unclear at this point. I hope we do though because he's a sweetheart. Tiffany came and found us because it turned out she was there. But it was no big deal. We went back to your office and did a bunch of paperwork. Went through how are lesson plan is going to work. And I feel so excited about it. I was pretty nervous at first but now that all my questions are answered I'm like excited. And I have so many ideas. I've written 8 months of vague themes and topics in my tablet. I think I'm just going to keep everything on my Google Drive since now I paid for it for the year anyway. I was considering getting a Chromebook since I'm going to have to be doing a lot of writing. But instead since my tablet doesn't work very well I just decided to buy a Bluetooth keyboard for it. So that should be here on Thursday. And then I can actually do my lesson plans for real. I feel very excited.

We just did a lot of going through packets and making sure all of our paperwork was good and it was just nice to be able to honestly answer questions and not have to feel silly for wanting clarity. I got my direct deposit setup and we have to take 15 hours of professional development courses over the school year. And so she help me setup my account for that. And I was able to get into the CPR first aid training class on Friday morning. So I get my first three hours of PD in and I'm excited to have that certificate my record. Even though it was a little bit of a hassle trying to figure out how to make an account for some reason. They make it like all secret like.

After we finished all of her paperwork and spent a lot of time discussing how things go. We did another walk around the building. This time we actually got to meet the other teachers that we may be working with or will be the team with the 5th graders. They were both really nice and I would be equally as excited to work with them. I think it might be nice though to have a blank slate with the new class with fitsum and there won't be a weird power Dynamic there. Of having a current teacher and a new teacher. But regardless the students were there too. They were all so sweet. They liked my jacket and they asked me if I could teach him how to sew and they asked me about other different projects that they were interested in doing. And it was just so cool they were so engaged and so sweet. I'm really excited to get to work with them. There was a couple big personalities but in the best ways. I'm very excited for this opportunity. I really think that this is going to be the exact thing I've been looking for. The rest of my jobs and lives are going to have to sort themselves out. Maybe I'll slow down my work at the BMI and take my mornings for myself. Or maybe I won't and maybe I'll still do exactly what I'm doing now. I just don't want to burn out. I want to really enjoy being able to teach and museums and do all the things that I do. But today really made me excited for going forward.

Fitsum was nice enough to give me a ride again. I'm going to have to figure out a way to tell him I will give him money. Because him giving me a ride back is saving me like $16 every time. It's like even if I throw him like 20 bucks a week or something. It would be worth it to me. You also just lose them walking into my apartment though so I think he just it is being kind and just giving you rides. But I don't want to take advantage he's so nice. I really just hope that we become friends too cuz I think he's a really cool guy. He was telling me some about working in Ethiopia and the culture there. And I'm curious to learn more.

Once I got home I have kind of a going back and forth doing things all night. I watched the new Shane Dawson documentary series. And I ate snacks. I've been eating snacks all night. I work in my studio for a while. I played with the new Furbys. They both had some corrosion inside of them from their batteries leaking so I had to clean that up with vinegar. But they're both working just fine and they were chatting with each other. They do make that high-pitched screeching sound that I read about. So I may take them apart and disconnect the wires. Honestly I might disconnect all of their speaking wires because I'm not super a fan of their voices. But I still think they're very cute. I like the way that they move they're very active. So I think painting with them is going to be really interesting.

I talked to James for a little while he's at his apartment having a D&D night. I think I just have too much social anxiety to participate. I told him I would be a guest are at some point but I just don't know if I could play with them and feel comfortable enough to do it. But we'll see I don't know. I like doing it one on one with James that one time though I hope we can do that again cuz I did enjoy that.

I did fall down the stairs. I hurt my hand a little bit but I'm okay. I mostly just scared me. I took a shower and wash my hair. And it's just chilling at my apartment and I'm wearing Chenille socks and leggings and I feel very cozy. I think I'm going to switch my stuff for work into my new work tote bag. That I have gotten from my causebox. It's such a pretty bag and I think it's going to be perfect for carrying all my papers and things. And it stands so I feel like if it gets paint on it and stuff it'll be cool. I think now though I'm going to start winding down for bed. I have to wake up early tomorrow and try to get some more done. And then I have to go over to Northern Parkway to get my fingerprints done for the city to get an ID and a background check. And then I have to go to Wildwood at 12:30 for staff meeting. I'm very excited for that I think it's going to be very fun. I'm excited too more formally meet everyone. So I hope it's just another really nice day. I hope you guys all have a great night and sleep well. Be safe out there. Be kind

#ootd #furby #work #art #in progress #weird dog #cat #tuesday

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