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ginnyweasely · 4 years ago

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SHE [draco malfoy x reader]

pairings: draco malfoy x reader

warnings: just a lil swearing that’s all, lots of fluff?

summary: based on “she” by harry styles, reader appears in draco’s dreams and draco wants those dreams to become reality.

word count: 2.8k+

songs to listen to: she by harry styles also the slowed version

A/N: bold italics are the lyrics, and normal italics are just memories<3 hope y’all enjoy this quick scrap that I had in mind when listening to she!! my requests are open, send requests HERE and FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS WELCOMED!

Nine in the morning

The man drops his kids off at school

And he's thinking of you

Like all of us do

It was 9 AM, Draco awoke in a groan, he did not wanna be up, he wanted to sleep and live in that dream world again.. He got up quick, so quickly that it made him feel a little dizzy in the head or maybe just maybe it was that Draco’s mind was still fumbled about the dream he had..

The dream that had him wanting to never wake up.. He wished he could see that dream every night, the one where he had you. You were finally his, he didn’t wanna be possessive but he couldn’t help it, even in his dreams and in his fantasies, you were his, his boyfriend, his lover, not for anyone else.

This time it wasn’t a nightmare, his dream. It was a vision where all his fantasies were fulfilled. He dreamt of you in a way that fulfilled his desires. Your head at his lap just laying there softly, as he smiled at the view in front of him, gently taking his hands softly to your Y/HC, stroking it as softly as he could, fearing his hand would stroke too hardly and end up hurting you.

Draco noticed you basically purring under his touch, closing your eyes as he was was stroking your hair softly, making you sleepy. Draco noticed your bright but not too bright pinkish cheeks, he smiled at the thought of you blushing under his touch, he wanted his hands to stroke against his cheek but didn’t wanna ruin this position he was in, so he just kept stroking your hair, and stared at you lovingly, your eyes fluttered a little to look at the boy, he smiled at you in which you returned the smile, as the two lovers gazed into each other for a long time. He noticed the dimple on your face once again, that little dimple that always appeared when you were smiling, even if it was a little smile.

He loved it, he loved your entire face, he loved your silky shiny hair, he loved the sound of your laugh filling his ears, it gave him joy. He loved meeting you in his dreams like this. He wished that they were real, he wished that when he woke up from those dreams, you would be right there with him on the bed, your arms on his neck, snoring lightly as you were cuddled on to his side. He smiled at the thought, but he knew it was too good to be true.

This brief dream was one that Draco could not shake out of his mind. He sat there on his bed for a while. Trying to think of ways to get you out of his mind.

Sends his assistant for coffee in the afternoon.

Around 1:32. Like he knows what to do.

She (she).

She lives in daydreams with me (she)

It was around 1 PM now, Draco wanted nothing more than for this day to be over, he was exhausted from the classes, and he couldn’t even get to see you today, as the class was over Draco got his books and walked down the corridors, happy that he was done for the day, but not as happy because he couldn’t see you.

He thought he could shake his mind off of you by going to the common room of his house, Slytherin and hanging around with his friends, he hoped, he hoped it would get his mind off of you.

Draco walked sluggishly to the common room basically throwing himself on the couch as his housemates laughed at the boy, “You seem tired, Dray.” Pansy said in a low voice and in a flirty way, Draco didn’t have any energy nor any mind to deal with Pansy as he just simply murmured a single “Yes.” Pansy brushed off the boy’s behavior as the group started chatting, Draco first tried to join in, but then after a while his mind started drifting, drifting towards one thing it shouldn’t have drifted to.

Y/N. He remembered the first time he saw her.

She's the first one that I see

And I don't know why

I don't know who she is (she, she)

It wasn’t actually the first time, but he didn’t know who she was after a while of noticing her out on the hallways, he first noticed her in the potions class. When the two were paired.

Draco didn’t know who she was and did not bothered to ask, but he was surprised at the girl’s kind gestures while he was being an arse, she didn’t care about his behavior, she was kind to him because she treated everyone like she wanted to be treated, and that right there shocked him to his core, she was the opposite of him, and it boggled his mind, she also was terrific at potions, and he could tell that she cared about her studies, and looked so focused on everything she did, she had this focused face with his mouth almost open and her tongue was sticking out to the side, it made Draco chuckle.

He was fascinated by the soft eyed girl. She smelled amazing, unfortunately they were only paired up 3 or 4 times.

That wasn’t enough for Draco, he wanted to hear her sweet laugh everyday, hell he wanted to make her laugh everyday, he liked her too much to be away from her, the girl seemed to like the boy, it was obvious, they had great chemistry and great chat at the lessons, but Draco always wondered if she liked her the same way he did. But because of his stupid pride he never tried out his chances.

Draco’s mind was back to reality as he heard that sweet laugh, his head immediately popping up as he saw the girl in his common room.. he was confused as to why she was there..

But he didn’t wanna ruin the sweet moment of his day, the moment where he saw Y/N, you were looking as beautiful as ever as you were surrounded by your friends, you were chatting with them as Draco watched you and tried his best to also avoid eye contact, he couldn’t handle the humiliation if you ever caught him staring, you brushed your hair out of your face tucking it behind your ear as you laughed at your friends and started talking about... something.

Draco couldn’t remember what it was because his knees grew weak at the girl.

He then turned his gaze away from you, as he realized he was staring much longer than he intended to. He sighed as his mind was scrambled up with you. He was frustrated at himself for always having you in his mind, in fact he remembered about that one thing that he still was kind of embarrassed about, he blushed at the memory and mentally cursed himself for remembering embarrassing things out of nowhere.

It was the game of a quidditch match, Slytherin were up against Ravenclaw, Draco was Slytherin’s seeker and it seemed that he was doing quite well.

Everyone was counting on him, girls were throwing themselves at him, boys were praising him, these incidents made Draco cocky, let’s be honest he was already a bit egoistical, and these compliments adding up made him too cocky, he knew he could win this, he kept thinking that as he was sure of himself.

They entered the Quidditch arena, and the match started Draco was focusing on the Golden Snitch, but much to his luck, he spotted you out of the corner of his eye, and because of his stupid stupid obsession and him being absolutely head over heels for you, made him turn his face to you, entirely forgetting about his mission.

You were surprised as the boy was smiling and waving at you, a bright color of red rised to your cheeks as you smiled and waved at the boy back, but it kept him too distracted as few of his team mates and the opposed team were flying right by him in a full speed that caused the boy to lose his balance, almost falling, the entire crowd laughing at the boy.

He embarrassedly gained his balance and still, for some reason his eyes searched for you, his eyes found you, staring into them in a soft way, she returned the gaze with a smile and thumbs up showing her full support, he smiled lovingly at the girl. He caught the golden snitch at that game, but he would still blush about that one embarrassing moment.

He decided he couldn’t take this anymore so he slowly got up from his seat, excusing himself from his friends, he was trying to avoid being seen by Y/N so he could walk to his dorm and drown in his thoughts, but it was too late. “Oh, Draco hey!” Y/N said in a giggly soft tone as Draco turned around to face her, not being able to stop smiling at her he greeted her politely.

“Soo, what are you up to?” Her voice was full of energy, which was surprising and new to Draco, that’s why he loved hearing her voice, it made him feel more lively. “Uhh nothing just- um was gonna go back to my dorm.”

Draco tried his best not to stammer but it was obvious he kinda failed, Y/N didn’t mind and smiled once again kindly to the boy, “I best not bother you then!” Her voice sounded chippy, and Draco knew she could never bother her, he wanted to be with her every minute, scratch that every fucking second.

But he shook of his thoughts as he could only say “Oh no worries, uhm I’ll just- I’ll go then.” the words didn’t come out of his mouth so confidently so his attitude was confusing to him. But she smiled at the boy as he excused himself.

He takes a boat out

Imagines just sailing away (away, away)

And not telling his mates (not telling his mates)

He wouldn't know what to say (wouldn't know what to say, to say)

Draco went to his dorm feeling more stupid than ever, he wished he didn’t have his stupid pride so he could ask you out.

He wished he could be with you. Sometimes he wondered what would happen if out of nowhere he asked you to run away with him, get out of everything.

So you both could be together, with no worries in your mind, nothing but just each other, he wanted you all to himself, not tell anyone anything and just disappear, with you, with his “girlfriend”. He had that thought too many times.

But as usual he knew that was a thought that was never gonna happen, for fuck’s sake the boy couldn’t even talk to you properly, he was stammering his words, which Draco almost never did that, not with anyone.

He always had crushes then and there but it was never as strong as this one. You were on his mind all the time, and he hated that. He wanted to hate you so he could keep you off his mind. But you were nearly impossible to hate.

She (she)

She lives in daydreams with me (she)

She's the first one that I see

And I don't know why

I don't know who she is (she)

She (she)

She's the first one that I see (she)

She lives in daydreams with me

And I don't know why

I don't know where she is (she, she)

Draco wanted to take a nap, with the hopes of seeing you in his dreams, with the hopes of you being his, his girlfriend in his dreams. He wanted to hold you, even if it could only happen in his dreams, he wanted to kiss your little nose and bop it as you giggled at his child likeness.

He wanted to hold you in his arms, not too tightly but soft enough to make him feel comfortable and safe, he wanted to smell your beautiful hair and stroke his hands through it, feeling as if he had found peace, as if he was in heaven.

He wanted to walk with you hand in hand in school corridors, imagining how every guy would be jealous of him, how everyone could see that you were his girlfriend, he wanted to show you off to everyone, he wanted you to be his.

He wanted nothing more than to spend every waking minute with you, hanging out in the common room with you, spending time alone in his dorm with you, cuddled up to each other as he watched you take a nap in his arms, smiling at the gorgeous girl in front of him.

Hell he even wanted to read some of your stupid books or even better read it out to you so he could do the things you loved. He wanted so much with you. But he just couldn’t bring himself to it, so he just did what he could do best.

Meet with you in his dreams.

Lives for the memory

A woman who's just in his head (Just in his head)

And she sleeps in his bed (His bed)

While he plays pretend (Pretend)

So pretend (Pretend)

This dream he had was something else. This time he couldn’t shake this dream, it was perfect, he couldn’t have had it better, it was him finally asking you out, you two going on cute dates, him doing everything he dreamed of doing with you, him holding you, comforting you, both of you being there for each other.

This dream was exactly what he has always desired, but it was just a dream, that thought infuriated him, he wanted more, he was tired of the dreams, he wanted you, in reality. He had to do something he knew that.

He got out of his bed, in an anger, angry at himself for being a huge pussy and not doing anything this whole time, he quickly checked the mirror to fix his look because a 3 hour nap can really fuck you up.

He quickly left his dorm, door shutting as he exited, he literally speed through the stairs, almost tripping because of his speed, he looked for you at the common house but of course you weren’t there, it had been 3 fucking hours, he mentally cursed himself as he wandered around the castle, his eyes searching for you hell even asking for you to people around.

He saw one of your friends as he approached your friend to ask for you, your friend was dumbfounded by the boy in front of him but pointed her finger to a Y/N sitting on the entrance of the castle with a book in your hand. Draco hurriedly went by your side.

She (She), she lives in daydreams with me (She)

She's the first one that I see, and I don't know why

I don't know who she is (She, she)

She (She), she's the first one that I see (She)

She lives in daydreams with me, and I don't know why

I don't know where she is (She, she)

“Y/N” he said as he smiled at your concentrated face, “Draco.” she smiled at the boy in front of her as she got up leaving the book on the ground, fixing herself up. Draco got closer to her just a mere inches away from her and she felt her breath hitch. “Do you n-need anything?” She said stammering as she was confused but excited by the boy’s actions.

“Just this.” Draco said as he closed the little gap in front of them by smashing his lips onto Y/N’s, Y/N was surprised at first unable to react to Malfoy, but she eventually comprehended everything and Draco could feel her lips moving against his, the feeling of her soft lips against Draco’s made his knees grew weaker, he was internally freaking out as he finally got the courage to do what he wanted, he happily kissed her, mouths intertwined with each other, Draco groaned a little when Y/N pulled away, having some questions for the boy.

But the boy, gave her no time for anything as he was on a confident roll, and did not want that to go away “Do you wanna go out with me? Like maybe tomorrow at Hogsmeade’s?” He said wanting to sound confident but the words coming out of his mouth were very quick, causing Y/N to comprehend what just happened.

Y/N looked at the boy confused at first, but then a smile formed onto her lips, showing off the dimples Draco would die for, “I would pretty much love that, Malfoy.” The girl said as she pulled Draco for another kiss.

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bomberqueen17 · 4 years ago

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art quilts

so I have been Stirred by Weird Desires to make textile art for about two decades now and most recently I have been consumed for a couple of years now about how I want to do complicated little embroidery pieces with applique and couching and shit like that, and I did start one such project earlier this year. While locked down at MM’s house, I took a canvas panel I’d cut for something else, and appliqued some strange bits to it and began a complicated piece that says “Sorry For Party Rockin’.”

(I go on about this and my new project behind the cut)

I nearly completed that-- I had to obsessively re-stitch over and over one letter I ill-advisedly chose do to in padded satin stitch which is the worst fucking thing ever and I’m bad at it??-- and have set it aside and lost it, but when it’s done I’m going to probably make it into a wall hanging and give it to MM.

(She had a CD that included that song, around the time it came out, and she used to listen to it as she drove her former hour-long commute to work, so she has it completely memorized and will occasionally recite it. Including during our Wee Precious Flower Prince Geralt playthroughs-- on one memorable occasion he was killing drowners on a beach and she sang the entire song start-to-finish and we debated what kind of tan lines Geralt would get. As if that man could tan.)

(that’s a photo from before I did the satin stitch on the R.)

ANYHOO I decided that I had to make my mother-not-in-law something for Christmas, since she’s the only person I’ll see on Christmas, and since when I asked her what she wanted for Christmas the only thing she wanted was a cheap kit on Amazon of sewing threads. She’s a quilter and makes a little over 52 quilts every year for the last several years and so for some fucking reason, for some inexplicable and bizarre fucking reason, my heart is set on making her a tiny quilted thing like to be a hot dish mat? Like, you are the most accomplished quilter I know if and I have made a grand total of one (non-pieced!) quilt in my life so clearly this??? is what my dumb ass is going to make you???? I don’t fucking know but my brain is hung up on it so I Must, apparently. (Don’t worry, she’ll be polite about it.)

But. About 15 years ago she said some Latvian folk saying and I thought it was really funny and wrote it down and since then I have been trying to figure out how to make it into something. The saying, literally translated, is “It’s not my first time on the roof with a pipe”, and roughly means “it’s not my first rodeo”, meaning like, I know it’s dangerous but I also know what I’m doing (can be said sarcastically)-- and by roof, they mean thatched roof, and by pipe they mean smoking pipe, so.

Anyway I had a little frenzy of creative output this weekend, watched two how-to videos on art quilts, realized I can’t follow directions for shit, and just went for it. I looked at image searches of thatched-roof buildings, came up with a minimal sort of design, sketched it roughly to fit on a sheet of printer paper, decided that was the scale I’m working at so there, and went in the basement and found scraps of fabric that suited my aesthetic. Cut the templates out of paper, cut the fabric with overly-generous seam allowances as is my wont, and sewed two of the pieces together. Sewed on a third, and then realized that... you can’t... attach two wildly curved pieces to one another by sewing them together from the wrong side. That’s not how anything works. Pieced quilts are made largely of triangles for this reason.

So I contemplated my options. Redesign the whole thing to only use straight lines? Perfectly reasonable, then I could hand-embroider the wavy lines I originally designed over the top, and that would add an extra level of dimensionality. Sure! Perfect.

But then these pieces I cut would be trash. They were already bits of salvaged garments, scraps and remnants I bought or my mother gave me-- nothing I’d purchased would be wasted, here. But I couldn’t face having to start over.

So instead I taught myself needle-turn applique so that I could stitch down the wild curves by overlapping them over the excessive seam allowances of the neighboring pieces. So now I have an excessively handstitched little quilt block. (And as a bonus, I fully mastered a technique for the first two seams that is not needleturned applique, and so the stitches show, and then I tried another technique, and-- well, it’s wildly different in quality from start to finish, and the only redeeming feature is that I didn’t work left-to-right so it’s not as obvious. But it’s wildly varying and kind of hilariously-so.)

WHATEVER.

So here’s my quilt block, for a one-block quilt I have no actual notion of how to finish. I think I’m going to bind it, and i don’t know how to do that so I’m going to bind it badly, and probably do the whole thing by hand, so there we go.

(See the roof at the bottom (two different pairs of corduroy pants i wore out more than ten years ago), and then blue sky, and then the middle is... not blue? I also didn’t take a picture yet but there’s a brown corduroy chimney I’ve now appliqued down in the middle there between the yellow and the pink. And the yellow is the bit I did first where I was like ahh applique is so easy I am doing well and then I looked and was like whatever technique this was, it was not needle-turn applique. Also: was I careful about grainlines in the whole thing to avoid distortion? I tried to be and yet I was not, somehow! Ha I am bad at this.)

The problem now is that i wrote down what she said but I have no way of spellchecking it or otherwise making sure it’s accurate. I can find some of the phrase used on Latvian-language websites; obviously from context it’s a real saying, but the one source is clearly using it as a double-entendre (some sex scandal making it clear that getting pipe on a roof translates with idiom intact, thanks!) and I just can’t find independent corroboration of, like, the little things like subject-verb agreement and word endings. Google Translate is of some use but keeps “correcting” it to no longer specify who the speaker is, etc. (i.e. it makes it say “not the first time” instead of “not my first time” so I’m not sure how correctly to say “my first time” instead? am I saying it wrong or is it just that Translate has more examples of the former and so thinks it’s correct?)

So like. Anyone fluent in Latvian? Please hmu. I don’t want to hand-embroider this and then finish the block and then find out I made a screaming error in grammar though that might actually make it even funnier, since I’m depicting a bad outcome and it’s a saying meaning don’t worry I got this and it’s funnier if I’m wrong?...

(I could ask her but I don’t want her to get suspicious. Well to be fair there’s no way any reasonable human would suspect that I’m making a quilt block for a master quilter so it won’t matter. I really should just ask her.)

(Orrrrrr I could just put it on there in English.)

Opinion time-- I was going to couch down some fluffy gray handspun coming out of the chimney to be smoke. Should I, instead, couch it down in the shape of the letters, in the sky? I was thinking “not my first time” in the sky and then “on the roof with a pipe” on the roof, but another option is just to do all the lettering on the roof. I feel like the latter will be more easily legible but does it matter that much?

I guess that’s two opinions I’m asking for-- #1 do it in Latvian or in English? and #2 put the text all on the roof, or make some of it be in the sky?

#about the author #handcrafting #textile art #no this isn't really an art quilt #but it's a thing #anyway #embroidery #sewing

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love-and-monsters · 5 years ago

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Wyvern Prince 13

Hope you’re all hanging in there with the quarantine. Enjoy some more Wyvern Prince in the meantime!

F human X M wyvern, 3027 words

You rose early in the morning and spent a while preparing yourself before you took Davrakoss’ breakfast to him. He was, naturally, still asleep. “Good morning,” you said as you pulled the curtains aside. “You have a meeting with the Queen and her council today about the coming winter and potential hunting allowances.”

He stirred and woke slowly and rather unhappily. You were just happy he seemed too cold and sleepy to talk. It made it easier when you didn’t have to respond to him. Unfortunately, after bathing and getting dressed, he seemed a lot more willing to engage in conversation.

“I hope you’re feeling well this morning,” he said as he sat down to eat. “You seemed a little flustered when you left yesterday.” His brows were pinched with concern. The fact that it seemed genuine rather than just polite made your stomach do an unsettling twist.

“I am fine. I am sorry if I worried you,” you said. Davrakoss looked at you for a moment with his piercing gaze. You smiled and went back to fixing his bed.

He rose after finishing his breakfast and began to prepare to head down to the meeting. You headed over to help him gather his things, but he waved a hand at you dismissively. “Please, don’t bother. I’ve lived in the castle for long enough, I know my way around.” You hesitated, but he pulled the documents away from you and smiled gently. “Finish up here and take a little break. I’ll be all right on my own.”

You dipped your head in a small bow. “If you’re sure.”

With a wave, he was out the door. Given all your practice, you were able to straighten up and clean the room before Davrakoss was back. As you were just straightening up the last book of shelves, you noticed something unusual. It was the closet that you’d noticed when you were first cleaning his room. You’d glanced at it every time you cleaned his room, but it was always locked and sealed with a small chain. It was too far above your pay grade to snoop, not that you really thought you could get into it.

But today was different because the chain wasn’t secured and the lock was loose. The door was still closed securely, but you could have opened it if you wanted.

You hesitated. Part of you was overcome with an immediate surge of curiosity. You did want to know what he was keeping in there. But there was also the likely chance that he had unintentionally left it unlocked and snooping where you didn’t belong was a very quick way to lose your job. Or worse. It was better to leave it alone, you decided. If he wanted you to do anything in there, he would ask.

He returned a little after lunch, looking slightly ruffled, but in an astoundingly good mood. “Did the meeting go well?” you asked as he stacked his books on the table, humming a strange song.

“Oh, the meeting went all right. Not as well as I hoped, but I suppose it could have gone worse.” He shrugged. “The queen wasn’t pleased that I insisted no humans should be allowed to hunt in wyvern lands, but we need to eat too, and we can’t survive on stored grain.”

“I’m glad it went well, then,” you said. “Is there anything else you need me for?”

He shook his head. “No, I think that’s all for today. You can have the rest of the day off if you wish.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “If there’s anything else you might need-” He cut you off with a wave of his hand.

“No, I’ll be all right on my own. But thank you.” His smiled was particularly warm as he looked at you. “Go on.”

You bowed and exited the room. With your schedule abruptly open, you took a longer-than-usual lunch before returning to your room.

There was an envelope sitting on your bed when you entered. You paused, looking at it uncertainly. It was a slightly off-white color and there was no wax seal or any identification from a sender on it. That was a mild relief- any sort of letter from the royal court would have the sender’s seal and name on it.

You approached the bed and delicately picked it up. It was heavier than you were expecting and there was a bulge in the bottom that wasn’t caused by a simple letter. You undid the flap and opened the envelope.

A necklace fell onto your open palm. It was heavy, and a large emerald pendant shaped like a tree hung from a golden chain. Instinctively, you dropped it onto your bed. Shit.

You looked back at the envelope, but there was no writing, no note, nothing you could use to identify the sender. You looked back at the necklace. It wasn’t a necklace you had seen before, so you didn’t think it was stolen from any of the nobles you worked closely with, but then where? There was no way any of the other servants could have bought it. The chain itself would have taken at least a few months to purchase, and that price would pale in comparison to the price of the pendant itself.

Where the hell did it come from? The envelope suggested it had been left there for you deliberately. Was it intended for someone else? Even if the deliverer had gotten the room wrong, it still would have been intended for another servant. But if you tried to find the recipient and no one else knew, you would certainly be suspected of stealing it. And if someone searched your room and found the necklace, there would be trouble.

After a few moments of considering your options, you shifted your bed a few feet and pried up one of the floorboards. You wrapped the necklace in a scrap cloth and stowed it and the envelope in the floor. It wouldn’t escape a particularly thorough search, but it would at least keep the necklace from prying eyes in the meantime.

It was difficult to sleep that night. You couldn’t stop thinking about the necklace. Frequently, you got out of bed to check that it was still there and you weren’t sure whether you wanted to find it or not. Part of you was sure that it was some attempt at framing you for thievery, but you weren’t sure why. You’d never upset anyone enough that much, had you?

Leaving your room in the morning sparked a whole new host of worries- it was very unlikely any one would find the necklace where you hid it, but you were still terrified that you’d be dragged out and accused of stealing or hiding precious jewels regardless. Your hands shook when you took Davrakoss’ breakfast tray and you stopped several times on the stairs to compose yourself.

He was awake when you entered and apparently hadn’t slept much better than you, if his slightly disheveled state was any indication. When he caught sight of you, he grinned- then frowned, then looked a little confused. You set the tray down and bowed to him, but he kept staring at you as though trying to pluck a thought out of your head.

“Is there something I can do for you?” you asked. He blinked and looked away, then back at you.

“I suppose there isn’t,” he said. He sat down and started to eat, but you were very aware that he was still looking at you. Whenever you tried to catch his gaze again, he would look away, but the tingling feeling of someone’s eyes on the back of your neck would start up again the instant you looked away.

The closet, you noticed, was unlocked again, although you certainly didn’t dare to snoop when Davrakoss was in the room. He seemed to be in a dismal mood as well. He ate only a small portion of his meal and paced restlessly. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?” you asked.

He looked at you for a moment, then gave a forced smile. “I’m all right. I just, ah…” He grabbed a book from the table. “I need to go to the library and look over a few books.”

“Would you like me to assist?” you asked. Davrakoss took a hasty step back toward the door, waving a hand at you.

“No, no, I’ll be quite fine on my own! You can just, ah, stay here. And clean. When you’re done, you can go. I’ll send someone to fetch you if I need you again.” He turned on his heel and was out the door before you could even respond.

It was odd, to say the least. But at least it was easier for you. Not being around him made things easier, at least a little bit.

You returned to your room once you’d cleaned the room as thoroughly as you could. It was pleasant to have some time on your own. You had a needlepoint piece you’d been dying to work on.

It was a pleasant few free hours, but eventually, another servant knocked on your door. “Davrakoss requests that you go to his room.” You put your needlepoint away and headed up the tower.

He wasn’t in his room. Instead, there was a note sitting on the table.

Sara,

I’m afraid I am a bit occupied at the moment. If you would organize the books and my notes together, that would be a great help for me.

Yours,

Davrakoss.

You looked over the stacks of books and notes on the shelf and let out a low sigh. This was going to take a while.

Davrakoss returned before you were halfway through sorting the books. He walked immediately to the bed and collapsed, sinking back into the plush sheets. Despite this exhaustion, there was a peaceful smile on his face.

“Everything all right, sire?” you asked. He smiled at you with such affection in his eyes that your heart pounded.

“Davrakoss,” he corrected. “And yes, I think it is.” He stood up, leaving his books on the bed. “I can help you with that, if you like.”

“That’s not necessary,” you said as Davrakoss walked up beside you. He was close enough that your shoulders were brushing. Your heart slammed against your ribs.

“Nonsense. I should at least know how you’re organizing things.” His hand brushed against yours as he reached for a book on the shelf you had just placed back.

“I can just show you,” you said, carefully stepping away from him. He frowned, but allowed you to set the books back on the shelf with no further interference. His gaze tingled along the back of your neck.

You moved to pick the books up off the bed, but Davrakoss hurriedly blocked them with his body. “Never mind those,” he said gently, ushering you away. “I can handle those by myself.” You dropped the subject. If a noble didn’t want you to look at something, it was best not to look.

“If you wish. Would you like me to bring you dinner?” you asked. Davrakoss shook his head.

“No, no. I’m all right. You can head back to your room. I’ll be fine for the rest of the night.” He gave you a tight smile. You bowed hurriedly and left the room.

There was something waiting for you when you returned to your room. A bolt of deep green fabric lay across the bed. Intricate golden designs were stitched across its length. Your fingers trembled as you gently touched it. It would have taken ages to stitch all the designs across it. It would have been expensive. More expensive than something a servant should own.

You felt cold. Hurriedly, you stowed the fabric under your bed, careful to lay it somewhere it wouldn’t be dirtied. That would only add to your trouble if anyone found it.

Someone was clearly trying to set you up for something. And if they’d visited two days in a row, they would probably visit again. You would just need to catch them.

It was, as it turned out, not terribly difficult to slip away from your duties for an hour or so. Davrakoss left you alone again with an excuse about a private meeting. You were pretty sure he didn’t mean what private meetings among nobles often meant, but you decided not to question him much, just in case he did. You didn’t want to know.

After you were sure Davrakoss had left and wasn’t going to come back and see you gone, you slipped out of his room and headed back to your quarters. There were few other servants around, and all that were there were occupied with their own duties. You walked slowly and unhurriedly toward your room, trying not to look suspicious.

As you stepped into the hall of the servant’s quarters, you saw the hem of a cloak swish out of sight into your room

You took two steps toward your room and froze. Problem: you didn’t know what to do next. If they were armed, they could just kill you. Even if they weren’t, they were taller than you, maybe stronger. Could you follow them unnoticed? Maybe. But you would need to go before they-

The cloaked figure stepped out of your room, saw you standing in the hallway and stopped dead.

If you weren’t already still, the sight of the figure would have startled you into freezing. You recognized the deep green, slightly shimmering cloak wrapped around their shoulders and the wisps of pale blond hair that poked out from under their hood.

Davrakoss shook back his hood. “Sara? What are you doing here?”

You were torn between apologizing and demanding to know why he was in your room. He at least had enough decency to look ashamed. “I apologize for abandoning my duties, sire. I only wanted to see who has been leaving certain items in my room,” you said. The truth seemed like a safe bet.

Apparently it was the right call, because a smile spread over Davrakoss’ face and he gave a quiet laugh. “I know when I’ve been caught,” he said and stepped aside with a gesture for you to enter your room.

You did so, a little uncertainly, and there was an envelope on your bed. This one was significantly more lumpy than the first. A little apprehensive, you picked it up and opened it.

A large, polished green gem fell out onto the bed, as well as a particularly large chunk of what you assumed was solid gold. You glanced back at Davrakoss, who was standing in the doorway, looking at you with an expression of hopeful anticipation.

“Do you like them?” he asked. You looked down at the precious jewel and metal half covered in the sheets of your bed, then looked back at Davrakoss.

“You gave these to me?” you clarified. He nodded. You looked between the gifts and him again. “Why?”

Davrakoss shifted his weight, tail twitching close to his body. “May I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the bed. You nodded and he crossed the room to perch carefully on the edge of your bed. He gestured for you to sit with him and you did so.

“Wyverns typically have large collections of objects we find particularly appealing. They could be as simple as a particularly pretty stone or a nice plant to a work of art. Each horde means something to each wyvern and if you look through the horde, you will know much about the wyvern who has curated it. It is made out of items we have either particular memories associated with or have taken a liking to. Hordes are typically guarded particularly well. It is considered a great embarrassment to have an item from a horde stolen, and managing to steal an item from a horde gives an impressive bargaining chip for the thief.”

Something clicked in your mind. “Your horde is in the locked closet.”

“Yes.” You felt quite glad you had never actually looked inside. You had the impression that could be considered an insult. Davrakoss shifted his weight and licked his lips. “My horde is, I suppose, fairly classic. I like precious metals, gems, particularly nice pieces of craftmanship. I have a few swords, I think, and one or two paintings.” He grinned to himself, then focused again. “But hordes are important to many aspects of our culture, such as we have, anyway. When one wyvern is trying to woo another, it is common to give them gifts from their horde. It’s supposed to be symbolic- if a wyvern’s horde is a representation of their heart, then to give a portion of it to someone, then…” He trailed off. “I suppose the metaphor is rather obvious.”

The shock of his words was so great that you felt as though you’d been temporarily separated from your body. His words echoed in your head like he was speaking from the other end of a tunnel. “You’ve been leaving these gifts for me?” you said, trying to entirely wrap your head around it. “Because you’re trying to woo me?”

He gave a sheepish smile. “Is it working?”

You felt a little bit like you were about to faint. The prince of the wyverns was sitting on your bed, offering you jewelry, expensive fabrics, hunks of gold and gems and telling you he wanted to woo you. It felt a little bit like you were experiencing a very strange dream.

“You don’t have to answer right away,” Davrakoss said. He stood up. “Take the rest of the day off. Think it over. I know this is probably a lot.” He reached down and took your hand in his. Gently, he lifted it to his mouth, brushing his lips against your knuckles. “Good night, Sara. I will see you tomorrow.” His eyes glowed, warm and gentle. A smile graced his lips and he turned and left the room.

You sat on your bed for a while, turning Davrakoss’ gift over and over in your hands.

#exophilia #wyvern prince #wyvern #wyvern boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster x human

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itscalledbisexualcrisis · 4 years ago

Text

Scrap Metal - Chapter 3

Summary: Hiro broke off her engagement to Kuvira three years ago and left Zaofu. All she wants is to live her quiet life in Republic City, away from her haunting past. Kuvira's catching up to her, but is she going to find what she's looking for? Or is she only going to reveal the secrets Hiro kept hidden from her all these years?

Link to AO3 Here

“You have an incredible butt, you know that.” Kuvira turned, her long braid whipping around with her head. She was in the middle of her routine when she was interrupted by a pair of chocolate colored eyes behind light framed glasses. Sweat dripped from her forehead and her muscles were sore. The dance studio didn’t have the best airflow plus staying an extra hour to rehearse made the room quite warm.

Hiro leaned casually against the doorframe, a cocky smirk grazing her lips. She didn’t want to interrupt her, quietly admiring how Kuvira was twisting her body around the room. She had her hands stuffed into her dark green jacket and hair loose in waves after being held in a bun all day. A teasing smile graced her lips.

“Seriously, have I ever told you how great your butt is?” Hiro teased again. Her dress swayed around her knees as she walked up to Kuvira, who grabbed a towel from her workout bag.

“Only a few times,” Kuvira said sarcastically. She turned off the record player that was still playing the song she was rehearsing to. Hiro recognized it as the one that was going to be for her recital next week. “Sorry, did I keep you waiting again?”

“No, I actually got out early and wanted to see if you were still at rehearsal.”

“We finished around half an hour ago.” “And yet you’re still here dancing. Why am I not surprised,” Hiro chuckled. She loved watching Kuvira dance. Along with being an excellent guard, she was a talented dancer. It was something she liked doing in her spare time, and she wouldn’t think of herself as the best dancer. Iit was something that requires focus and precision, but also got her out of her over-analytical mind. And made her very flexible, Hiro thought to herself cheekily. “Come on, let’s get you a shower. You smell awful.”

“What? You don’t like it?” Before Hiro could react, Kuvira already had her arms wrapped around her and smothering kisses on to her neck. Hiro gagged and tried pushing the older woman off. “I thought you liked it when I got sweaty all over you.” Hiro blushed as Kuvira let her go, chuckling to herself. No matter how much Hiro tried to be a teasing asshole, Kuvira was always a step ahead. It irked Hiro to no end how easily Kuvira could get under her skin.

Kuvira paused before reaching down and putting the record player back on. A slow song began playing which confused Hiro. Kuvira turned to her, messy braid and all, holding out her hand.

“Dance with me.”

“Oh no. I do not dance,” Hiro refuted. She was cut off by Kuvira wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling their bodies together. Hiro tried to will away a blush from forming on her cheeks which made Kuvira smile. Her other hand came up and held Hiro's hand, entwining the fingers together. Meanwhile Hiro’s free hand came up and found purchase on Kuvira’s shoulder.

“Stop being cute and let me lead,” Kuvira purred, slowly guiding Hiro. The song played a gentle tune that they could rock back and forth too. It wasn’t anything crazy or intricate that Kuvira can do and she smiled to herself when she saw Hiro looking down at their feet or behind her to make sure they weren’t bumping into anything. “Just keep your eyes on me, darling.”

Hiro looked up at Kuvira and could feel her muscles relax upon seeing her green eyes.

For a moment the two women just admired one another, letting the rest of Zaofu melt away from them. Right now it was just the two of them in their bubble where they could drink in one another. Eventually, Hiro tucked her head down so it was buried in the crook between Kuvira’s neck and shoulder. Even as the last notes of song faded out, they continued to hold onto one another. Hiro’s hands wrapped around under Kuvira’s arms and held her back gingerly. She could feel every muscle and knot beneath her fingertips thanks to Kuvira’s fitted grey tank top. Kuvira’ arms wrapped around Hiro securely, keeping one arm around her shoulders while the other stroked her back.

“You know...I think this would be a good wedding song,” Hiro thought off-handedly. She immediately blushed harder and felt Kuvira’s back tense. “Not that I’m trying to say anything or-or...you know...I know we haven’t talked about anything like that and it’s weird to, like, assume right? Ha, I mean not that I wouldn’t want to but- you know just forget what I said!”

Kuvira caught her off with a smoldering kiss that made Hiro shut up very quickly. She moaned into the kiss as Kuvira nibbled gently on her lower lip. She blinked her eyes open when Kuvira pulled away slightly. Their breaths mixed together with how close they were.

“I couldn’t agree more. It would be a good wedding song.” Her hand found Hiro’s left hand, taking care to memorize every crook and bend of Hiro’s hand. She noticed how Kuvira focused longer on her ring finger. “One day.”

Hiro gasped lightly, searching Kuvira’s eyes. God, those eyes can keep her frozen in time. She loved finding different specks of amber mixed within the green of her eyes. It was honestly her favorite physical feature of Kuvira’s; besides her butt of course.

“Yeah?” Hiro whispered. Kuvira answered it with a short kiss on the lips. Hiro held Kuvira even tighter, feeling a wide smile grow on her face.

“Yeah, one day.”

---

Hiro turned off the radio after finding herself humming to the familiar tune. She got up from her crouched position, lifting the face shield off to wipe sweat off her forehead. She admired her handy work for the upgraded Sato Mobile in front of her, jotting down notes in a small pad.

It wasn’t easy to transition from working on security systems to cars, but hey a job was a job in her opinion. And it was the closest Hiro came to working with technology nowadays. After updating and remodelling the security systems in Republic City, Hiro was left without a job. Zaofu was the most progressive city in the world, and in comparison most places were eons behind and didn’t need a systems analyst. So with nowhere else to go, her primary job now, when not working with President Raiko, had become working on Sato mobiles in the Future Industries factory.

She’s the first to admit her metalbending was rusty, but it was a good change in her pace to help create new parts instead of sitting behind a lab table all day.

She walked to the locker rooms to change before heading out. She was finished for the day, but just needed to go to Asami’s mansion to give her the notes about the new upgrades. Then she’d be home to take a bath and relax for her weekend.

Hiro knocked on Asami’s door and was greeted by one of the servants before heading straight to Asami’s home office. The door was already open, but she knocked lightly on the frame to make her presence known.

“Hey, I was just stopping by to drop these off.” She expected Asami to be working tirelessly like she always is. However Asami was seated at her desk, looking down at an envelope in her hands. Hiro’s entrance broke her out of her trance. She noticed Asami’s furrowed brows and could tell something was wrong. “What’s that?”

Asami stuttered, the letter slightly crumpling under her grip.

“Nothing!” she stammered. Her eyes trail back lovingly towards the letter. Her hands try to smooth it back out, careful not to crumple it again.

Things were awkward between Hiro and Asami for a while after Hiro’s confession. Sleepovers were off the table now, and it seemed like Hiro was spending more time at the factory than the office. Hiro tried her best to keep things professional and distanced from Asami. Most days she walked home from work, politely declining rides from the young engineer and retiring from a long day at work alone. Although she missed having Asami to wake up to, she swallowed any bubbling feelings and chalked it up that she was doing Asami a favor by not getting involved.

“It’s a letter...from Korra.”

Hiro’s eyes widen.

“The Avatar!? That’s great!” Hiro beamed. Upon Asami’s lack of excitement, Hiro’s smile faded. “It’s good right? You’ve been waiting for her to write back for a long time now.”

“I am, it’s just…” Asami hesitates. “It’s been so long since I’ve heard from her. I miss her.”

Asami looked back down at the letter as if it would fade away if she blinked. Hiro walked across the room and put a gentle hand on top of Asami’s shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“If Korra is anything like how you’ve told me, she’s probably just needed time, nothing personal against you. And I’m sure she’s missed you, too.” With that Hiro left, giving Asami privacy to open the letter.

She was sure that whatever was going on between Asami and Korra would be mended. It was how Hiro noticed small tears in Asami’s eyes as she looked at the letter. And how her hands held it like it was the most delicate thing in the world. And how Asami’s demeanor changed when she spoke the Avatar’s name. She knew those small details all too well. Hiro smiled to herself while walking out of the office building.

Good for Asami , she thought to herself, genuinely happy for the engineer.

---

Asami noticed right away that Hiro was uneasy. It was hard not to notice when it seemed like Hiro never stopped moving. She was a busy woman, but even for her she was excessively working herself the past week.

“Hey.” Hiro looked up from her bustling notebook. Asami almost laughed at how her glasses were slightly lopsided and half of her hair was sticking up. “You want to get lunch today? My treat.”

“I can’t. Thank you for the offer though.”

Asami sighed and walked over, putting a hand over Hiro’s work book.

“You need to stop.” Hiro’s surprised look met Asami’s calculating gaze. “You’ve been doing a lot lately. What’s going on?”

Hiro hesitated, unsure how much she wanted to share with Asami.

After getting the letter from Korra, Asami and Hiro’s friendship returned, but this time strictly as friends. It made both women relieved that they didn’t have to dance on awkward eggshells anymore and could be friends who occasionally got lunch together.

“Suyin wants to see me. She’s in the city for Prince Wu’s coronation,” Hiro shook her head, remembering the letter she got last week. It was very unexpected and daunting for her to receive a letter from Zaofu. Then reading the letter from Suyin about meeting up before the coronation to talk has given her a lump in her stomach all week. “I don’t even know how she found me.”

Asami looked to the side.

“That...may have been my fault,” she admitted. Hiro’s eyes widened, appalled.

“Why would you do that?” She never mentioned her past to Asami, and immediately felt defensive.

“Suyin and I were in a meeting together a few weeks ago, your name came up.” Hiro thinks back to Asami’s trip to Zaofu last month. Future Industries was looking to expand to create locations worldwide and Asami had been travelling to different Earth and Fire cities to network. “I just gave her your mail address, that’s it. I didn’t say anything else.” Hiro sighs, sulking back in her chair.

“I wish you hadn’t done that.” Asami’s face lifts in surprise to see Hiro’s face scrunched up in annoyance. This isn’t how she thought Hiro would react.

“But you’re meeting with her today.” “That doesn’t mean I want to. You shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

“I just said that you were working for Future Industries and gave an address. From what Suyin was saying, it seemed like she was happy to have some way to contact you.”

“Which is more than you should’ve done.” Hiro got up and walked around. “I have to get going.” “Hiro!”

But Hiro was already out the door and marching down the hallway. Why did Asami have to get involved? Hiro felt uneasy all week about this can of worms, going back and forth nearly everyday if she was going to show up or not. It’s not like she doesn’t want to see Suyin. She’s missed her so much over the years that it leaves an ache in her. But she could never bring herself to reach out due to a mix of pride and guilt. All morning she’s been going over what she was going to say and preparing for the slew of disappointments from her former mentor.

She sighed to herself. No. She needed to do this. She made mistakes and needed to face the consequences. Even if she was only with them for a few months, Hiro’s work contributed a lot to Kuvira’s leadership. And she turned her back on Zaofu and the city that nurtured her gifts. As ashamed as she is to admit it, she helped Kuvira conquer Ba Sing Se and set her up for the rest of her takeover.

There was already commotion going on in the city for Prince Wu’s coronation. The press flooded the streets around city hall, ready to capture this momentous occasion. Walking down the street, Hiro saw a few uniformed men and women from the Earth Kingdom. Her hands twisted, and she tried keeping focus.

She knew Kuvira arrived yesterday with her delegation and a few members from her army. Republic City was honoring her as well at the coronation for her efforts in unifying the Earth Kingdom. It made Hiro feel uneasy to be so close to Kuvira.

She took a breath and marched forward. The quicker she did this, the quicker she could retreat back to working on the next security wall for the city or testing the newest models for Asami.

Suyin had given her clearance ahead of time so she walked right into the building, which was even more chaotic than outside. People were running around trying to get things situated before the big event and Hiro felt flustered. She looked around anxiously, trying to find Suyin.

Instead her eyes trace the crowd to find green ones already boring a hole into her. Hiro felt her breath catch and she began to sweat. It seemed like they were the only people in the room, in their own bubble. Kuvira’s green eyes were sharp enough to kill. She’s always had a talent for sending a chill in her opponents with just her eyes. She uses it as a tactic to get what she wants and knows exactly how intimidating she could be. Hiro knows how Kuvira can be short tempered and let her anger flare up. But this was different. There was a mix of surprise with anger in her eyes. There was something else though and Hiro could only describe as...pain. The way a deep frown sat on her slightly parted lips and the way her eyebrows pinched slightly together gave it away. Even from far away sandwiched between a crowd of people, Hiro could feel the energy in the room turn cold. Kuvira was radiating with anger that Hiro felt it punch through her and left her gasping.

“Hiro! Hiro!”

She turned away, head whipping around to see Suyin calling out to her, not that far away. By now a majority of the people had cleared out and she could clearly see the older woman walking towards her. Hiro exhaled and let her chest fall. Her head went back to where Kuvira was previously standing, but she was gone. Frantically looking around, she didn’t even realize that Kuvira had made her escape and the only people left were Suyin and Hiro.

Her mind was reeling as Suyin walked up to her, still shaken about Kuvira.

“Hiro, are you alright? Is something wrong?” She looked up at Suyin’s face and immediately the wash of shame came over her. All of the guilt she’s kept pent up and stored away felt so exposed now.

“I want you to know I’m sorry,” Hiro started right away. Suyin’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry for never reaching out after all these years, I’m sorry for not trusting you. I am so so sorry for all of the pain and trouble I caused you Suyin.”

Hiro bowed respectfully to Su. She swallowed down the lump rising in her throat and had to hold back wincing when Su placed a hand on her shoulder for her to rise. She could feel the tears pricking at her eyes and willed herself not to cry.

Hiro gasped when Su wrapped her arms around her in a comforting hug. Her body was too stunned to hug back and she felt Su squeeze her tighter.

“I was so worried about you,” Su exhaled, not realizing she had been holding her breath. She felt the wash of relief flood her upon seeing her former analyst.

“You’re...not mad?” Su pulled away from her and Hiro was dumbstruck.

“I was,” she admitted. “But after seeing what Kuvira has done, it’s not surprising that she manipulated you into joining her with whatever lies she was telling you.”

Hiro didn’t want to admit that technically Kuvira never lied to her about her intentions to unite the Earth Kingdom. That it was Hiro’s own naivety and ignorance to blame. Su continued.

“Then we heard you had left and I thought you were going to come back. I was worried something happened to you when you didn’t.”

Hiro looked down in shame. She gnawed away at her bottom lip, debating if she wanted to tell Suyin everything that happened. She hadn’t shared her past with anyone, and it’s been a long road to recovery since coming to Republic City. When she looks into Suyin’s gentle eyes, she feels emotions tugging at her heart to spill everything and finally come clean.

“A lot has happened since I left Kuvira,” Hiro exhaled a shaky breath. Su nodded as if expecting that response. Suyin had watched their relationship blossom since the beginning. Kuvira was like a daughter to Suyin after taking her in when she was young. She always admired how they balanced each other. Hiro was a lighter energy; quirky and humorous. It countered Kuvira’s darker energy; serious and determined. When they made things official, the first person Kuvira told was Suyin. Of course she had her suspicions for a long time beforehand and was happy for the two. She was the one Kuvira went to when she decided to propose and helped pick out a metal to create the ring. Was she all that surprised when Hiro left one day and stole an airship to join Kuvira? No, but when she heard that her former analyst had left Kuvira, she was concerned for Hiro’s well-being. After years of not hearing from her, she knew this was her one chance to reconnect.

“We can talk about it. Can you stick around for the ceremony? We’ll have more time after.” Hiro glances up at Su wearily, before giving a soft nod. She wasn’t sure if she was going to tell Suyin everything. Hiro had decided to leave the past behind and keep it locked away as much as possible. There was no point in reopening these old wounds. But to be on good terms with her mentor again was tempting. Like it was the first step to getting the closure she needed.

---

Well that was a shit show , Hiro thinks. The coronation of Prince Wu turned dark when Kuvira announced her leadership under the Earth Empire. Hiro snorted. Empire? Dramatic, even for you, Kuvira . Hiro turns to leave, making her way out of the crowd. A lot of Earth Kingdom citizens and supporters of Kuvira were in the crowd, cheering on their leader. It honestly made Hiro uncomfortable.

A man came up to her and held his hand up to signal her to stop. She eyed him carefully in his Earth Empire uniform.

“Excuse me, are you Hiro Zhao?”

“Yes? Can I help you?”

“I am one of the delegates from the Earth Empire. The Great Uniter is requesting you to join her for tea this afternoon.” Hiro scoffed, crossing her arms. Kuvira was asking her to tea? This had to be a joke.

“Oh yeah? And what if I say no?” Her cocky attitude was wiped away by the man’s unchanging demeanor. He wasn’t in a joking mood. And Hiro realizes there’s another man behind her in the same uniform. She eyes both of the men suspiciously before letting out an awkward laugh. “What is this a threat?” “We’ve been tasked to bring you to the Great Uniter for tea.” Which translated to Hiro as, you have no choice . She didn’t want to make a scene in front of the crowd of people so she nods hesitantly and follows them.

Tea in Kuvira’s presidential suite was not ideal. Hiro had to get back to her work, not like these men would care. She anxiously fiddled in the presidential suite waiting for Kuvira to arrive. The sun was beginning to set, casting an orange glow in the room. Apparently this used to be Prince Wu’s suite until Kuvira came and claimed it for herself. Hiro knows how persuasive Kuvira can be and was mentally preparing herself for the worst.

In Zaofu, Kuvira was the head of the Metal Clan’s guards. Not only as one of the strongest benders, but also clever. She knew how to get out of tricky situations and negotiate with others. She could talk her way out of anything and get people to do things they wouldn’t have otherwise. Hiro felt her palms begin to sweat. That look that Kuvira gave her earlier told her that she wasn’t here for just a simple afternoon tea. Upon thinking about the Great Uniter’s terrifying eyes, Hiro felt fear bubbling up. It seemed almost impossible that she used to love those eyes so much. Those eyes Hiro fell in love with.

Kuvira was charming, hands down. She used to sweep Hiro off her feet with just a look. But she didn’t know Kuvira anymore and Hiro hated that fact. She hated that someone who she thought she knew so well, had turned so dark and twisted. What if it was me? What if this was all my fault? She was so drowned in the past she didn’t hear the doors open.

“Oh good, you’re already here.” She looked up and Kuvira entered and shut the doors behind her. Hiro heard a soft lock and she felt more nauseous. She sat up a little straighter on the couch. Kuvira raised a thick eyebrow at her before offering a small smile. “You don’t have to be so stiff around me.”

She didn’t move and Kuvira walked over to the drink cart. Her hair was pinned back like it usually was and the uniform kept frisp. Fit and put together, as Hiro remembered.

“I know my delegates said we’d have tea, but how about something stronger?” she suggested.

“I’m alright, thank you.”

Interesting , thought Kuvira. She walked back over with a teapot and two cups on a tray. She set it on the coffee table before pouring two cups. Hiro didn’t let her eyes leave Kuvira for a second. It hurt, to be looking at her ex-fiance, to be so close to her, but Hiro couldn’t trust herself to let her guard down. At first neither of them say anything. Kuvira picks up the hot tea cup, blowing gently.

“Are you just going to stare at me?” “Cut the crap Kuvira,” Hiro bites. “I know your games. What do you want?”

Kuvira smirked, cup inches from her lips.

“Feisty,” she grunted. “And here I thought we were going to have a civil conversation. Catch up, like old times”

Yeah Kuvira was officially crazy , Hiro thought.

“Well your men didn’t really leave room for an option.” Kuvira didn’t bat an eye. Something tells Hiro that Kuvira knew how they basically gave her no say in this meeting. Hiro crosses her arms. “Does Baatar Jr. know you’re here?”

“He’s busy.”

“Well I should really get back to work and I’m not really interested in speaking with you to ‘catch up on the old times’,” she sneered.

Kuvira’s shoulders fall and her demeanor softens and she puts down her cup.

“I’m not here to fight with you, Hiro,” Kuvira says plainly. Her voice is lighter and not as gruff or commanding. “I know things didn’t end well between us-” Hiro rolls her eyes “but I want to move past that.”

“Move past it,” Hiro repeats. She couldn’t believe what Kuvira was saying. “We were together for years. And you just want to move past that? After fucking around with your seccond in command?” Hiro didn’t mean for her voice to raise with every sentence, but she couldn’t help it. The nausea from earlier was hardening to fire in her belly.

Kuvira tensed. She knew the conversation would probably steer in this direction.

“You can think whatever you want about me. You can hate me like I know you probably do,” Kuvira snapped, her anger getting the better of her. “But I didn’t ask you to come here as my ex-girlfriend . I want to offer you a chance to rejoin the Earth Empire, no consequences for deserting your country.”

Hiro’s jaw fell. This day couldn’t get more weird. She started to laugh at how ridiculous all of this was.

“You think after everything, I’d want to join you ,” Hiro gawked. Kuvira couldn’t be serious could she?

“To me, it seems like a fair deal.”

“No.” Hiro stood up. Her voice was loud, but shaking. Her hands twitched as she tried to hold it together. She could barely stand being in the same room as Kuvira anymore, and she had to break her gaze away. “You can’t just do what you did and then come back years later asking me to be your citizen . Are you out of your mind? You’re not even going to try to explain yourself!”

Kuvira felt a tug at her heart as Hiro started pacing around the room.

“We grew apart. It’s as simple as that.” Hiro froze. “There. Is that the answer you were looking for?”

She turned back to Kuvira, tears spilling out of her eyes in frustration as Kuvira scowled. Kuvira said that as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Like it was so easy for her to ‘move past’. She had pictured this conversation with Kuvira for the longest time, what she would say and what the reasons for cheating were. But she never thought Kuvira would be this cold hearted and disconnected towards her. It hurt Hiro more than Kuvira didn’t seem to care about their relationship and how it fell apart.

Of course not, she found love. She found Baatar Jr. She didn’t need you anymore.

“You’re unbelievable.” Hiro got up to leave, feeling more embarrassment for a lifetime in one day. She started heading towards the door.

“I don’t think you understand, darling. ” Hiro’s breath caught in her throat and she stopped. “You will join me, whether you like it or not.”

“Why!” Hiro cried out, turning around to look her old lover in the eye. “Why me! You’re almost done. Everything is falling into your lap piece by piece. You have Baatar Jr.! Hell, you have a whole fucking army out there of supporters! What more could you want?”

Hiro saw Kuvira hesitate before getting up and walking up to Hiro. Their bodies were inches from each other and Hiro could feel her heart racing. She noticed the small details that gave away Kuvira’s age. She was still stunningly beautiful as Hiro remembered. Her nose still sloped down smoothly, but her cheekbones were more defined now as well as her jawline. Eyebrows were well groomed as always, the arch accentuating her assertive nature. Even with all of her anguish and hurt, Hiro felt her heart pulling towards Kuvira. Her eyes were steady, but behind them were flames of amber peaking through.

Kuvira’s fingers brushed along the side of Hiro’s face. Hiro winced as if she had been burned, but either Kuvira didn’t notice or didn’t care. A finger came down to trace along Hiro’s jawline.

“I’ve been more than kind towards you, don’t make me regret it,” Kuvira seethed, the gentleness completely gone from her voice and her tone didn’t match her actions at all. “Whether you like it or not, you’re an Earth Kingdom citizen. That means you belong to my empire. You are my citizen to use as I see fit.”

She let go of Hiro’s face, throwing it to the side. Hiro didn’t realize her body was shaking and she could barely keep herself standing up..

“Get out of my sight.” Kuvira turned her back to Hiro and walked back to the couch. “You’ll join me eventually, whether you like it, or I have to make you.”

Hiro was quick to move to the door, hesitating with her hand on the knob. There’s so much she wanted to know and to ask. Despite all the anger she felt towards Kuvira, she also felt confused and needing answers now more than ever.

No. There was no point anymore. Kuvira wasn’t going to apologize and she definitely wasn’t going to give her the respect or decency for a real answer.

So Hiro ran out the door. And she ran just like she’s always done.

#kuvira #kuvira fic #ok but anyone else obsessed over those audio clips from zelda's twitter the other day #icon zelda williams #tlok fanfic #legend of korra fic #kuvira x oc

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pikapeppa · 4 years ago

Text

Felassan & Abelas modern AU: Patience

Chapter 5 of Inadvisable (professor Solas AU) is posted!

Today’s chapter: Felassan and Abelas POV. Because I am trash for the Ancient Boyband™ chatting with each other.

~3600 words; read on AO3 instead.

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

- FELASSAN -

Felassan hummed to himself as he wandered along the sun-drenched street. The street was particularly busy today; the noontime traffic was amplified by students on foot and on their bikes making their way to their first day of classes.

Felassan didn’t mind the bustle. It would calm down in a couple of weeks anyway when people started skipping class. He slipped his sunglasses onto his nose and pulled his phone out of his pocket, then opened Instagram and checked his PMs.

No answer from her yet. That was fine; he was fairly sure it was just a matter of time.

He tapped on Tamaris’s Instagram once more and studied her photos for a moment. It hadn’t been hard to find her; her profile was public since she used it to advertise her work. This was how he had discovered that she was a traditional stick-and-poke tattoo artist – information that he hadn’t had a chance to get directly from her last night, seeing as they’d been otherwise... occupied.

He smirked as he remembered the way he and Tamaris had been occupied – how she had occupied him, to be specific, since she was the one who had initiated that incredible kiss. He was being honest when he’d told her he didn’t usually kiss people that he’d only just met; he considered himself a shameless observer of people and their patterns, which meant he usually preferred to keep to the fringes of social events rather than getting directly involved. But last night when he’d spotted Tamaris from across the room, standing by herself and watching the people in the bar the way he usually did…

It was the look on her face. The complex mixture of skepticism and hope and wariness as she watched the people around her, like she was jaded but wished sometimes that she wasn’t.

It was a look he’d once grown used to seeing in the mirror, especially in the last couple years of his PhD. It was part of the reason he’d largely pulled out of academia as soon as his PhD was done. And it was that look that compelled him to cross the room and talk to Tamaris when he normally wouldn’t bother.

And talking to her had been entirely worth the bother. She was so hilariously blunt. Suspicion hung heavily from her every word, like thick drops of honey trickling from a spoon, and her skepticism only made her rare smiles all the sweeter.

Not as sweet as that kiss, though. Actually, no: ‘sweet’ wasn’t the right word for the way Tamaris had kissed him. That kiss had been pure shameless lust, torrid and wanton and totally delicious, and it had taken every scrap of Felassan’s self-control to step away from her.

But he had to step away from her. He couldn’t give in and take her home like his body was screaming to do. Somehow he just knew that if he had sex with her right away, she wouldn’t want anything to do with him afterwards, even though sex was clearly what she’d wanted.

And now that Felassan had had a taste of Tamaris’s skepticism and her smiles, her suspicion and the scorching sweetness of her lips, he didn’t want to give her up.

So he broke the kiss. He stepped away from her and went home and jacked off instead. And first thing this morning while he was drinking his coffee, he’d started searching for ways to contact her.

Finding her Instagram had taken less than two minutes. Sending her a PM took barely a second.

felassan 08:13AM Deep mushroom sometime?

Now to wait until she replied. And he had a good feeling that she would. He just had to be patient, and patience was something that Felassan was very good at.

He tucked his phone back in his pocket and continued on his slow and leisurely way. Some fifteen minutes or so later, he pushed open the door to the Ancient Elvhen Studies lab.

He lifted a hand in greeting to Tamlen, who was working in the main room, then sauntered down the western hallway. When he reached the heavy oak door at the end of the hall, he knocked briefly, then let himself in without waiting for a response.

Solas was sitting at his desk and studying something on his computer. He looked up with a frown, but his expression smoothed out when he met Felassan’s eye.

“Felassan,” he said politely, and his gaze returned to the computer. “What brings you here?”

“I have a little time to kill before my class at one,” Felassan said. He draped himself comfortably on Solas’s couch.

“Hm,” Solas murmured vaguely. “While you’re here, would you bring me the 2017 Ghil Dirthara compilation? It’s on the third shelf to the–”

“I know where it is,” Felassan said wryly. “I’m very familiar with your library.”

Solas nodded. When Felassan didn’t move, Solas glanced over and gave him a quizzical look.

He smirked. “I’m not your student anymore. You can fetch your own books.”

A tiny frown creased Solas’s brow. “You’re closer to the shelf.”

Felassan tucked his hands behind his head. “You could use the stretch, I’m sure.”

Solas sat back in his chair. “Then you can find somewhere else to wait until your class.”

Felassan tsked and rose to get the book. “Cruel. No wonder the students call you the Dread Wolf.”

Solas huffed and started typing on his computer. Felassan wandered over to the bookshelf and selected the Ghil Dirthara compilation, then placed it on Solas’s desk.

“Thank you,” Solas said. “In any case, you will have to find somewhere else to wait. My new Master’s student will be arriving shortly.”

Felassan raised his eyebrows. “And you still made me get that book for you? That’s rude.”

Solas smirked at him, and Felassan sighed as he flopped back down on the couch. “Where am I supposed to go, then?”

“Go to Abelas’s office,” Solas said.

Felassan laughed. “And invite his wrath on the first day of term? I might be a risktaker, but I’m not suicidal.”

Solas huffed in amusement. “I meant that you should ask him for an office space of your own to wait in.”

Felassan wrinkled his nose. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Solas gave him a chiding look, and he sighed again and stood up. “All right, Dread Wolf, I’m leaving.”

“Don’t call me that,” Solas said without looking up from his screen.

Felassan chuckled and headed down the east hall to Abelas’s office instead. As he wandered down the hall, he pulled his phone out and checked it.

Still no reply from Tamaris. He smirked and tucked the phone back in his pocket. She could take her time to reply if she wanted; Felassan was in no rush.

The slow and patient path was often the one that paid off, after all.

- ABELAS -

Abelas tapped his pen on his desk as he reviewed the enrollment statistics for the new term. It was a good thirty seconds before he realized he hadn’t taken in any of the numbers he’d just read.

He sighed and ran a frustrated hand over his braided hair. He knew the reason he was so distracted: it was the music.

He could hear music emanating from Athera’s office next door. The sound of it was faint, just the occasional soft hint of a melody or the ‘drop’ during the dance music songs, but it was more noise than Abelas was used to hearing during his workdays, and it was terribly distracting.

He scowled at the wall that they shared. It was past noon now, and Abelas was fairly certain that the first thing she’d done upon arriving at the lab this morning was turn on her music. It had been playing constantly since then, and he genuinely didn’t understand how she was able to focus with music playing all the time. And such bright energetic music, to boot. Abelas liked to listen to instrumental music sometimes when he was reading, but dance music? Pop music with lyrics? It was ludicrous.

And yet, her frivolous choice of music was fitting. He’d spent some time observing her this morning as she worked, and the first thing she’d done was launch right into talking to the other members of the lab as though they were her longtime friends. She’d gone into each grad student’s office to chat, and she’d spent considerable time talking and laughing with Dagna in the library and the artifacts room. She’d even disturbed Solas by knocking on his door after he’d returned from his morning lecture, and Abelas had heard them talking together animatedly down the hall. When Athera finally settled into her office, it was with her infernal music playing.

After observing Athera’s work for the morning, Abelas had come to one conclusion: she wasn’t taking this job seriously.

I will need to speak to Solas about this, he thought in disgruntlement. She isn’t fit for the position. Frankly, he wasn’t sure anyone was fit to take over any of the administrative duties of the lab, especially since the lab already ran smoothly under Abelas’s direct control. But Solas was insistent that he needed to delegate more, and it had taken a year for them to get the proposal for the research coordinator position pushed through…

Abelas sighed. He really ought to stop wishing that the research coordinator position didn’t exist. What’s done was done, and now he was stuck delegating to someone, whether he liked it or not.

But maybe that someone didn’t need to be Athera. Especially since she was so inexperienced and flighty, with her friendly chatting and her irritatingly cheerful music and her carefree smile.

Perhaps he could try and find someone else. In the meantime, he would tell her to turn her music down. Or maybe to turn it off altogether.

He sighed, then went back to scanning his report. A minute later, however, someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” he called.

Athera poked her head in and offered him a cautious smile. “I had an idea I wanted to run past you. Do you have a minute?”

He nodded and gestured for her to approach his desk. It wasn’t like he’d gotten far with reading his report, anyway. “Tell me your idea.”

She sidled into his office and closed the door behind her. “Do you know what a network-attached storage system is?”

He leaned back in his chair. “I’m unfamiliar with that term.”

Athera perked up. “Okay. It’s essentially like Google Drive – a server for storing files of whatever type you want. But you own the server, and the only people who have access to it are the ones that you give access to,” she explained. “You can access it from anywhere just like a Google Drive and you can basically do all the same things as Google Drive can do, but it’s private.”

Abelas narrowed his eyes. “I see. Why are you mentioning this?”

“I think you should invest in one for this lab,” she replied.

He frowned. “We have secure storage through the university.”

“Yes, but only about 150 gigabytes, and that’s almost full now. And it’s not accessible from anywhere,” she said. “You can only access the university servers from a university computer. A NAS system — er, the network-attached storage–”

He cut her off impatiently. “You can call it a NAS.”

She nodded. “The NAS can be accessed from anywhere by anyone who has the password, so it’s way more convenient than the university servers.”

Abelas folded his arms. “We have to keep personal information about research participants on the university storage system for confidentiality reasons.”

She took a few eager steps closer to his desk. “I know, but I’m not talking about that information. I’m talking about everything else.” She widened her already-wide grey eyes. “Articles, projects that everyone is working on, drafts of documents, photos and footage from the Brecilian Forest, transcripts of interviews — wouldn’t you want to be able to access all of that easily?”

“We are already using Google Drive for that,” Abelas said with growing annoyance.

“But Google Drive isn’t secure,” she argued. “It’s not controlled by you. And they make you pay through the nose for more storage space!”

Abelas scowled at her. Why was she being so stubborn about this? “The system we have now is working fine.”

“Just because it works doesn’t mean it can’t be improved on,” she retorted.

He pursed his lips, then finally shook his head. “I don’t like this idea.”

Athera folded her arms and lifted her chin. “Well, you’re the only one,” she said. “Everyone else in the lab thinks it’s a good idea.”

Abelas stared at her in shock, then slowly rose to his feet. “You already spoke of this to everyone else?”

She took a small step back from his desk. “I didn’t tell them we were doing it,” she said defensively. “I just… floated the idea to see if anyone had heard of a NAS before. Dagna was the only one who even knew it was a thing.”

Abelas regarded her angrily for a moment, then made his way around to the front of the desk. “Did you run this past Solas?” he asked.

“I did,” she said. “He likes the idea.”

Abelas pursed his lips and ran a hand over his braid. Athera took a few small steps closer to him. “With your permission, I’d like to start drafting a proposal to the department chair for your lab to get its own NAS. If we have the budget, that is,” she added quickly.

He eyed her in annoyance. First she had the gall to argue with him so stubbornly, and now she was looking up at him with so much childlike hope in her face?

“Get me a quote for how much this will cost and I will consider it,” he said brusquely.

She clapped her hands and did a little hop. “Great!”

He drew back slightly, surprised by her enthusiasm, and she sobered. “I mean, um.” She rubbed her nose awkwardly. “I’ll… I’ll get right on that.”

He nodded and waited for her to leave, but she was eyeing him now in a speculative way. He folded his arms. “Were you seeking approval for something else?” he said testily.

“Do you not like baked goods?” she said.

He blinked. He must have misheard. “Excuse me?”

She smiled crookedly and shifted from one foot to the other. “I just — I was told that you aren’t a fan of baked goods. Is it true?”

He stared at her in growing bemusement. “I’m… who told you that?”

Her smile widened. “A source who would prefer to remain confidential.”

He peered carefully at her. Was she mocking him? “Your source is incorrect: I do enjoy some baked goods. On special occasions,” he said suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged. “No reason. Just wondering.”

Abelas gave her a flat look, and she shifted from foot to foot again. “I bake sometimes. For fun.”

“I see,” he said slowly. Was there any particular reason she was telling him this?

She let out a nervous laugh and tucked a lock of hair over her ear, and not for the first time, Abelas’s attention was drawn to her chestnut-coloured hair. It was long and thick and shiny, like chocolate woven with hints of gold and spun into strands that spilled down to the middle of her back in lush waves, and not for the first time, he imagined what her hair would look like if it were twisted into the sorts of elaborate braids that were worn at formal events back home in Arlathan.

He scowled as the idle thought crossed his mind. Then there was a knock at the door.

Before Abelas could call for the person at the door to enter, the door opened up, and Abelas pursed his lips with displeasure. Only one person was rude enough to enter his office without waiting for his permission.

Sure enough, Felassan stepped into the office. “Abelas, I’m just going to – ah, I’m interrupting.” He smiled at Athera. “You must be the new research coordinator.”

Abelas straightened and gestured at Athera. “Felassan, this is Athera,” he said formally. “She is indeed our new research coordinator. Athera, Felassan is a sessional lecturer for our program.”

Felassan smirked. “And by that, he means that I teach the courses that Solas and Abelas didn’t want to teach.”

“That is not the reason you’re teaching those courses,” Abelas retorted. He was lying; it actually was the reason Felassan was teaching those courses, but it was unprofessional to admit that in front of Athera.

Felassan shot him an irreverent smirk, but Athera spoke before Felassan could make one of his obnoxious clever remarks. “What courses do you teach?” she asked.

“This semester it’s 100-level drawing and a graduate-level art history seminar,” Felassan said.

Athera brightened. “Oh, my friend Nare might take your seminar! She’s starting her Master’s degree. She’ll be here to meet Solas soon, actually.”

“Excellent,” he said. “You can warn her that I’m a very strict instructor.”

Athera’s eyebrows rose. “Are you really?”

He shrugged and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Not at all. I give passing marks for showing up.”

Athera chuckled, but when Abelas shot Felassan a censorious look, she cleared her throat. “I’ll, um, get you that quote before I leave today,” she said to Abelas. “Probably in a few minutes, actually.”

“Thank you, Athera,” he said.

She edged toward the door. “You’re welcome, Abelas. Professor Abelas, sorry,” she said clumsily.

Abelas nodded. Felassan, meanwhile, was wandering into Abelas’s office despite not being formally invited in. He sat on the couch – again, without invitation – and smirked at Athera. “A word of advice: if Abelas gives you a hard time, just ask him about his research at the Well of Sorrows. That’ll cheer him up.”

Abelas glared at him, but Athera paused in the doorway with a smile. “That’s right, your area of focus was the Well of Sorrows!” she chirped. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it? I wrote my undergrad thesis about it.”

He scowled at her. It didn’t seem right that someone so irritating could have such a disarming smile. “I have published two books and several articles about it,” he said sharply.

Her smile faded slightly, and she bowed her head. “Then I’d be honoured to learn about it from you, hah’ren.”

Abelas paused, instantly deflated by her traditional manners — and for the first time since he’d met her, he felt a bit ashamed for being so snappish.

Feeling somewhat wrong-footed now, he gazed wordlessly at her serious face. Then Felassan snapped his fingers. “I know,” he said to Abelas. “You should teach her about the Vir’Abelasan over drinks.”

Athera’s clear grey eyes went wide. Mortified, Abelas turned and glared at his colleague. “Felassan,” he said warningly.

Felassan raised his eyebrows. “What? It’s a simple suggestion.” He looked at Athera. “He could use the outing. He never goes out.”

Athera’s eyes darted to Abelas. “You don’t? How come?”

He scowled. Her cheeks turned red, and she let out a nervous little laugh. “Okay, a quote, I’ll get – um – I’ll see you later.” She scurried back into her own office and shut her door.

Felassan gave Abelas a chiding look. “Well, that was hardly friendly.”

“And that was hardly professional,” Abelas scolded. He closed his own office door and frowned at Felassan. “What are you doing here? Is there some specific reason you are here?”

“No,” Felassan said casually. He cocked his head. “I thought hiring a research coordinator was supposed to make you less stressed.”

“So did I,” Abelas snapped.

Felassan lifted one eyebrow. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming her for your stress. It’s your own fault you’re stressed. You need to relax.”

Abelas gave him a resentful look as he returned to his desk. It was easy for Felassan to preach about relaxing; he’d given up on academia altogether aside from teaching.

He sat bad-temperedly in his chair. “Remind me again what you are doing in my office.”

“Solas was busy. He has a meeting soon,” Felassan said. He took his phone out of his pocket and swiped around on the screen, then smiled.

“I am busy, as well,” Abelas said pointedly.

“You’re always busy,” Felassan said, but he wasn’t looking at Abelas anymore; he was grinning and typing on his phone.

Abelas grunted and finally returned to his neglected report, but his eyes stared unseeingly at the numbers before him. He couldn’t stop thinking about Athera’s stubbornness.

For the five years that he and Solas had been running the Ancient Elvhen Studies program, no one had questioned his judgment. No one had criticized the way he chose to run this lab. And now, after a single day here, Athera was changing things — and not just with her suggestions about the damned NAS system.

She was changing the ambience of the lab. She was chatting with everyone and playing her music and talking about baked goods for no particular reason. It almost felt like his sanctum was being despoiled, the gravity of his work being cheapened by laughter and levity and pop music. Athera had only been here for one day, and she was turning his lab from a serious place of study and work to a place of… fun.

He didn’t like it. He didn’t like her – the way she stood there looking up at him with her stubbornly jutting chin and her steely grey eyes, with those long lush ropes of chocolate-brown hair spilling down her back…

He frowned and rubbed his forehead. He could still hear the very faint sound of her music through the wall.

Perhaps he would start using earplugs.

#felassan #abelas #solas #professor solas #modern au #professor solas au #felassan/lavellan #felassan x lavellan #abelas/lavellan #abelas x lavellan #abellan #inadvisable #pikapeppa writes

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thesockpuppetmaster · 4 years ago

Text

The Man As He Loved Me

When I wrote of Gatsby in my published novel, I told no falsehoods, only omitted a few small truths. There were scenes which I felt the world should not be privy to- I say that, and yet here I am, revealing them now. I suppose the time feels right now; time to bare my last kept secrets to the world, so that I may finally be rid of Mr Jay Gatsby.

The first scene actually doesn't concern Gatsby at all; it instead involves one Mr McKee from the party Myrtle held, before I had even met Gatsby. While his wife and the other party goers were busy attending to the blood erupting from Myrtle's nose, he sidled over to me, a look in his eyes that was both familiar and damning. "My wife will stay for another... few hours, I suppose. She doesn't like to leave Myrtle when things like this happen. Would you be so kind as to... accompany me back to my apartment?" He stepped closer, so I could smell the liquor on him, bitter and sharp. His voice was a mere murmur in my ear, "I often find I can't sleep alone." It was rather a shame the elevator boy was with us on our journey down- McKee was too full of whiskey to resist toying playfully with the head of the elevator lever, running his hand down the shaft as though the cold metal beneath his fingers was full of flesh and sensation, and pulsed as his hand caressed it. "Keep your hands off the lever." The boy caught the motion in the corner of his eye, and shut it down. "I beg your pardon, I didn't know I was touching it," he flashed his eyelid at me, so quickly I almost missed it. But I didn't.

As soon as we stepped through the door, he pulled me into a kiss, fixing our lips to eachother, my fingers running through the coarse, black hair at the back of his head, as though I were searching for something golden and tantalising buried within. We undressed eachother, clumsy with drink and blind with lust, fumbling with buttons to remove the clothes that bound our sensuality. I am ashamed to say my underpants got rather lost in the fray, and I have not seen them since. But soon they were no matter, and I felt his skin, sweet and hot to the touch, against my own. I took him then, on top of his wife's choice of cream cotton sheets, causing the silver springs below us to creak luxuriously with each lustful thrust of will.

Afterwards, he showed me photographs he had taken from Long Island, granulated shots of white seabirds and queer looking people strolling through streets, blurred slightly by movement, while some Cole Porter song played on the wireless. "They're lovely." I told him politely. "I could photograph you, if you would want me to. Just as you are, stood there- just over there- by that lamp- the light's much better there..." He got up to gather his camera and, before I could say anything otherwise, had positioned me just where the light caught my naked body best, and, with a sharp click, had forever preserved me for print. "I'll send a copy to you, when I've had one developed." I checked the old clock on the dresser, and, to my surprise, a full hour had passed since my arrival. "Won't your wife be home soon? I ought to be going," I said, beginning to pull on the clothes strewn across the floor in puddles, which I hoped belonged to me. Mr McKee looked up from his camera, startled. "Oh, yes... I suppose you ought to be- here-" He scribbled something on a scrap of paper on the dresser, and handed it to me as I made my way to the door. "Telephone if you ever want your picture taken again, will you?" "Sure," I never did telephone.

I only mentioned in passing where I first really met Gatsby- in the First Division, during the war. At the time, I didn't know he was Gatsby- he introduced himself to me simply as 'Jay', and to him, I was only 'Nick'. There was something of a party held for the men, in the dance hall of a grey, little French village, and that was where we first spoke. "Excuse me, do you have a light?" I turned around at the tap on my shoulder to see him standing before me, holding a cigarette and smiling that same reassuring smile. "Oh, of course- here-" I fumbled in my pocket for a box of matches, and struck one against the side of the box, causing a soft flame to leap into life. "Thanks, old sport." He took a drag. "I'm Jay, by the way," "Nick." He shook my hand firmly. "Have a drink with me, won't you?" "I'd be delighted."

As I have found often happens, it ended up being quite a bit more than just one drink, and much of the night that followed is forever lost to the fogs of inebriated memory that lurk dimly out of sight in the mind, and are never quite close enough to glimpse- mostly the middle section, before we began to sober up a little. Perhaps my knowledge of this is a detriment to my character, but the contents of the war had warped everyone's perception a little, and made a man far more inclined to drink.

We didn't talk about ourselves or our lives; until he asked me if I had a girl back home. "No, no... I was seeing this girl before I left, but I broke it off when I was sent out- I wanted to anyway- all she wanted to talk about was marriage..." He looked at me curiously. "Don't you want to get married, Old Sport?" "Not to her." I replied, and changed the focus of the topic to him, "What about you? Do you have a girl at home?" "I did." Jay's eyes seemed to loose a little light. "What happened?" "It doesn't matter... she married somebody else- look, do you want to get out of here, Old Sport?" His change of subject was obvious, but I let it slide. "And go where?"

As it turned out, 'where' was the wrong question; I should have asked what he wanted to do. But, as I lay beside him, both of us nude from the waist down, I cannot say that I recall being preoccupied with not asking that- I was rather more interested in the lips which touched my body so tenderly, and the hands which explored my skin with such deftness and expertise. Perhaps it was the liquor talking, but I cannot recall ever being so blissfully happy in my intimate encounters than that night. Gatsby showed me parts of my body that I did not know could feel pleasure- but, with fumbling ecstasy, felt more than all of the rest of my body ever had.

When I woke the next morning, my lower half still bared to the cold dawn light, Jay was gone. I wouldn't speak to him again until the party at his house, years later, but I would glimpse him every now and again, as one did in the war. I was so sure I would never see him again, that I didn't really allow myself to think about him. Strange how things really turned out.

At his party, when we met again, I could hardly believe my luck. The only images I could conjure in my mind were of that night, and hearing his voice again brought back memories I wasn't aware I had. We spoke about the party, mostly, and the people there, and every time he laughed, the glistening lights seemed a little more beautiful. Of course, that was before I knew who the party was for.

Gatsby was infatuated with Daisy. We shared only two more intimacies after meeting again, the first on his private beach after the first party I attended. The smell of the brine from the languid waves marinated into his skin with his own, tender scent, and made a heady lovechild that I could only describe as the smell of summer passion. He moved his body more leisurely than before, knowing he was no longer shackled by the confines of military time and duty, but free the share his body as he pleased.

But throughout, I know he can only have been thinking of Daisy, for as much as he loved my body, my passion, and my company, he loved the idea of Daisy more.

The second time was the night of Myrtle's death. He longed for his mind to be taken elsewhere, and I provided my hand to take it, drawing him to feel my wanting for him, pulsing through my skin and milk white bone, and searching for the same in him.

But that night he felt colder than he had before, and in the heat of climax, he cried;

"Daisy!"

After that I had to bring the affair to a close, knowing he felt married to her.

But I do believe he loved me, at least in his body, for a while. Or perhaps I was just a naive distraction from the tolls his fantasy took on him, waiting conveniently next door, for his next whim to indulge my blind heart.

#my writing #writers #writers on tumblr #fanfic #great gatsby #the great gatsby #the great gatsby fanfic #gatsby #love #erotxcism #20s #roaring twenties #twenties #short story #1920s #jazz age #jazz #f. scott fitzgerald

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dat-town · 5 years ago

Text

wish upon the sea

Characters: prince!Brian (Young K) & siren!You

Setting: a bit darker, twisted Little Mermaid au

Genre: romance, action, fantasy

Warnings: mentions of blood, death

Words: 5.7k

Author’s notes: I use the name Brian since Young K in this story is supposed to be the son of Prince Eric and Ariel, so a Korean name would have been weird, hopefully you won’t mind.

Dedicated: happy birthday, my dearest @restlessmaknae! ♥♥♥ I cannot put into words the happiness that feels me becausee of the close bond we share and that we can live through so many wonderful experience together. Thank you for letting me be not just a big sister but a best friend as well. Wish you all the best and welcome to the club among the girls in their 20s! Love ya! ♥

Once upon a time there was a prince who fell in love with a mermaid.

It was a truly heart-fluttering love story, everyone in the kingdom found Ariel lovely and kind-hearted despite her clumsiness and Prince Eric was often jokingly called a lucky bastard to have her by his side.

In a few years the couple had a child, a boy with charms like his dad’s and hair as red as the brightest coral in the sea just like his mom’s. The boy grew up to be a fine swordsman, a chevalier with the softness of the waves of seas on calm spring days. He was a good man, people said, everyone loved their handsome and kind prince and so many daughters wished to be the lucky one to have that golden heart of his. However, the prince's heart was already taken, swimming in fondness for the endless blues as he fell in love with the sea.

Ever since he was a little boy, Prince Brian and the sea were inseparable. As the castle was built on a shore not too far from the water, growing up he had spent a lot of time there playing in the sand, swimming, searching for pearls underwater. He liked the calmness and rhythmical waves coming to stroke his ankle as his feet sank into the mud, he liked the wildness of it when storms were raging over in the open fields and he liked that it had its borders but seemed to sweep through everywhere reaching every part of the world. There was something – something unexplainable and mysterious – about this giant of a sassy lady that attracted him and never let him go. He was under its spell and couldn't escape even if he wanted to.

No wonder he decided to join the royal marines as soon as he finished his training at the Academy. Being a sailor himself, his father (being the king by that time) was proud of him and supported his choice even if it meant the prince being away, on the open waters under the sparkling stars most of the time. But from time to time he came home, just like the tide always returned. He found his way back to the place where he fell for the depth and beauty of the sea.

He often found himself on the sandy beach by the water, watching it change various colours under the sunset. Sometimes he just watched it from the castle and certain times he wasn't even alone.

"Do you miss it?" he asked staring ahead at the endless sea as he stood next to his mother on the balcony. Her long red hair was decorated with jewellery made from sea shells and her locks swirled in the gentle night breeze behind her back. She had that kind of longing in her eyes that the prince couldn't understand until he didn't experience homesickness during his travels. There was no regret in those eyes, just a soft kind of sadness of losing something precious to gain another.

"It's hard not to when the sea calls for me constantly," Queen Ariel said in a gentle voice, almost like a sigh and her son couldn't even imagine the loss she felt. When she had given up on her tail to get legs, it hadn’t been the only thing she willingly let go off.

The sea's rules were strict. You couldn't turn your back on it without paying a price and every merbeing knew what it meant to leave their home behind: they could never go back.

So the prince was curious and he had matured a lot during his overseas training. Hence, he dared to ask the question he never asked out loud before.

"Do you regret it?" he whispered with eyes trained on the azure waves he loved so much.

He had been travelling throughout the Seven Seas for years now but he hadn't had the chance to stumble upon any merbeing like the ones told in his mother's tales. But her family, as she called the tribe, had always been a careful one, avoiding being in the centre of attention until Ursula's short but deadly rule. By now there was peace over the waters again.

"Choosing your father over being a mermaid? No. It's not regret. I only wish there would have been another way," the Queen shook her head staring ahead. Her honey voice was filled with nostalgia and melancholy. "But the sea is a selfish creature, a jealous lover. You can never win against it."

The prince hummed, knowing. This was a lesson he had been taught ever since he was young. He was warned to be always wary of the sea as what it gave, it could take it away just as easily. And yet, there was something out there that attracted him like flame enchanted the butterflies, he had always found his way back to it.

"Will you leave again, son?" Ariel turned her back on the stormy waves and stroke a smooth hand over the young man's face. The red locks he had got after her created a great contrast against the dark night even under the white moonlight. He was as bright as fire in the darkness.

"As soon as the maps are ready," he nodded firmly, worry evident in his eyes as he looked over the horizon. "There are more and more pirate ships around the border. We need to show them they can't hang around here. They should leave."

Politics had been a mess but the ongoing, endless wars against the Pirate Nation had been even worse. There was nothing they could negotiate with. The pirates lived for spilling blood, they weren't satisfied with anything, they always wanted more and more. More money, more freedom, more blood in the oceans. But Brian wasn't just going to let them win.

"Be careful," the Queen patted his cheek with the softest smile only mothers could make because no matter how old her son was, he was still her giggling little boy who had played with crabs and little fish in the ankle-high water by the beach.

"As always, mom," Brian promised, leaning his head into the motherly touch.

Cold breeze passed between them, bringing the forecasting of something bad coming from the sea but neither of them listened. Humans never did.

The sea wasn't a graveyard just for wrecked ships and poor souls but for broken promises and lost loves too. It had buried more than human recollection could hold onto.

And soon, you were going to join the ruins under, you were sure of it.

Handcuffed to the mast out in the open pirate ship, close but still so far away from your precious sea, you already felt like dying. Your human legs had become awfully dry due to the lack of water and every movement hurt as the blood in your veins got warmer than normal. Fever did no good to you as you leaned your sweaty forehead against the wood. Closing your eyes you imagined swimming home without a care. You really didn't want to think of all the possibilities of being sold or that they would scrap the scales off of your tail. Pirates didn't treat you as a woman even if only one huge man shirt was thrown over your bare, lithe body. In their eyes, you were an animal, being half-fish, half-human. They had big mouth, spits and swear words but their eyes couldn't lie. You saw it in their eyes, the fear and the attraction humans had towards mermaids, your unearthly beauty. But without your power, without your song, you were nothing but a tied up barely girl, useless and harmless. You hated being so weak.

"Ship on the horizon!" someone hollered in terrible dialect from the ship's bow and it was enough to stir up the waters around. Pirates all around you got their lazy asses up and with weapons in hands they rushed to prepare the ship for an attack.

"'Capt’ it's the Royal Marines," another one cried out as the three ships became more distinguishable in far-sight.

"Of course, they are," the wood-legged man snorted in disgust but the grin on his ugly face only showed satisfaction. This was just what he wanted, that was why they came here in the first place: to demolish the King's navy. Or at least his precious son and only heir. Victory could never taste as sweet as a revenge upon those who took everything from him.

Being so tired and weak, you were barely able to realize what was going on until someone splashed water into your face and shrieking you awakened from your half-lulled dream.

"The show must begin, little songbird. Are you ready to sing?" the Captain grinned at you, yellow teeth on full display as he was panting so close to your face. Disgusted, you turned your head away.

Or at least, you would have turned it but then suddenly you were yanked onto your wobbly feet by your chains and you almost fell onto your knees being ever so weak in your human legs you never really learned how to use.

"Now listen to me, doll," the pirate continued on, as he grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes, dark as the deepest pits of the sea. "Don't even think about escaping, I will kill you before you could leave the 100 meter radius of this ship. You just need to awake a storm and sing a pretty song to the sailors coming at us, okay? If you do a good job, then maybe I will reward you or if I'm feeling generous I might even let you go. What about that?"

"I- I cannot sing..." you croaked out, voice hoarse from being kept like a dog for days now. Without water you barely survived, how could he think you were still able to do what he wanted you to?

"Oh, silly girl, you think I don't know that?" the man huffed out and tossed you a huge canne of water. You were like a lunatic on verge of dying because of thirst based on the way you caught on that. You gulped down the oh so sweet, salty sea water and you felt your blood buzzing in excitement. Power, finally.

"Now sing!" the captain ordered once all his men put something into their ears to dull your enchanting voice. This way it couldn't affect. You grimaced at the smart move and when you were dragged to the side of the ship, you opened your mouth to sing.

Whenever you let that lulling melody fall from the tip of your tongue, you felt powerful, almost invincible. But now, you could barely hit the right tones. You thought you wouldn’t be able to summon anything at this rate but the sea, taking pity on you, started stirring up around the ship, clouds darkening above and the first drops of rain felt like a miracle on your dry skin. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting out a deep breath before starting that song again, the one that allured so many sailors into the loving arms of death.

The three ships of navy got closer in the meantime and the first roar of cannon made you tremble. The second made you fall as the pirate holding on your chains lost his balance and pulled you with him. Out of breath, you collapsed onto the wood board. You couldn't keep up. That much of water after being dried under the Sun didn't even give you enough strength to transform back into your full form. You could barely answer to the pull of the sea by finding your voice and that sweet melody.

You stopped singing, pushing him away as his hands grabbed on your shirt to stop you from escaping. Not like you could go far away with those metals around your ankle and the ties around your wrists but at least you wouldn’t be a puppet on string in a useless fight. You couldn’t wait for the ship to sink anyway.

“Why did you stop singing, little birdie?” The pirate clicked his tongue, following you to the mast where you tried to get the chain off in vain. He grabbed on your waist hauling you up.

“I’m not your songbird,” you gritted your teeth, angry, feeling the power of sea so close. You knew it had your back. You were so so mad, you could have killed this pirate with bare hands, only if you’d had your powers!

Everybody was running around on the ship, cannons fire shots, the ship tilted to one side and then the other as it got closer and closer to the maelstrom created closeby. You knew the power of the sea, a vortex like this could drag down whole armadas. A few pirate ships and three navy ones were like a children play.

You hung onto the mast as the navy ship got next to the one you were on in the next circle it took down the spiral. You kicked and hit until the pirate had to put you down and when he tried to lay his dirty hands on you again, you bit into his finger and just as he screamed in pain, you wrapped your own ties around his neck and squeezed it as long as you heard him breathe. Just another dead body as a sacrifice to the sea, you have seen them fall one by one anyway. The marines obviously overpowered them but you didn’t care about the gunshots and the screams and the blood spilling all around. You tried to get rid of your chains with trembling hands.

"There's a girl here! Help, they kept a girl as a hostage!" Someone hovered over you out of the blue. With a knife in one hand, he made a quick job with the rope tie around your hands, getting those off of your bruised wrists but you couldn’t help but flinch when the cold metal touched your skin and for a moment you thought he was going to dig it deep into your still heart. However, he hadn’t touch you like this, his eyes quickly skimmed through your body until he find the metal cage around your bare ankle. Only when he finished getting rid of the chain, you looked up at the stranger.

Marks of the battle were evident on his features in red split lines but his hands were warm and gentle as he covered you with his own jacket probably thinking you were cold in that thin shirt thrown upon you. He put a hand over the small of your back, pulling you up by the elbow with the other. He treated you as if you were fragile, harmless... human.

As if he was a mere fever dream you could only blink at him in awe, at his hair shining like the ardent, burning-hot colour of the sunset, so different from your own ink-like locks. And his eyes, those brown orbs, even with the fighter spirit in them, were so warm even your cold, cold heart felt the tremble as your gazes met.

"You're safe now," he said oh so softly but how a naive soul he was! The battle wasn't over yet and if it were, it wouldn't have been you who had to be afraid. He had no idea what you were capable of, how many hearts you had taken already. He held you as you stared at him, the first one to help you in order to save you from a possible unfair death on a pirate ship and then another cannon ball slammed into the wooden body of the ship.

"Lieutenant, get out of there!" Someone from the other ship brushing so close to this yelled but it was too late.

The fire of the fiery shot had already reached the gunpowder under the deck and it exploded like magical fireworks in the sky. The whole ship shook with the power of it, the wooden floor collapsed beneath you and the two of you fell into the water amongst the ruins of the pirate ship.

As soon as your skin made contact with the salty sea water, it felt like rebirth. Life was breathed into your burning lungs and you finally arrived home. You felt the scars heal, the bleeding stop and in the dark water lit by the orange of fire, you transformed: human legs got colour, covered by turquoise scales. Golden dots tainted tail and breast covered by finlike pattern, you got rid of the shirt and jacket to take a deep breath from the oxygen-filled water.

There were so many different feelings in you that wanted to break out. Anger, happiness and sadness all alike. You wanted to avenge what these pirates did to you but they were doomed to die anyway, the sea, the Mighty, was just as angry as you were. On the other hand you were finally free, you could have just swimmed away, away from this madness not looking back. But as you made the first movement to leave, you saw him, the soldier, the lieutenant who helped you, his body slowly sunk under as his muscles were on the verge of fighting against his lungs screaming for oxygen. He didn't deserve to die, that much was sure. He was caring and understanding even if he didn't know you. He was the first to treat you like a human being and as you watched him close his eyes, hands reaching for the surface, you couldn't just let him die. Not like that.

In a span of a moment, you decided against your life instincts. It wasn't usual for your kind to be kind to humans, much less saving them. But he deserved so much more than being another dead body in the sea among those ruthless pirates. You swam up to him until your bodies collided, flesh against flesh. He looked vulnerable and fragile now with his eyes clothes, body heavy as the sea pulled him down. You filled your lungs with oxygen and pressed your mouth against his, forcing his lips open so you could exhale the sweet air into his screaming lungs.

A kiss of the Sea.

When Prince Brian awakened he didn’t know where he was and how he got there.

Prying his eyes open he could see sand and palm trees, faintly he heard the murmurs of the sea. It didn’t take too much time to figure out that he was washed up to a beach after he fell into the water. With that realization, memories came back to him about the storm, the pirates, the fight and… the girl! He certainly remembered a pure-looking girl with hair like the darkest night and eyes like coal that heat up the castle back home. He wondered what her came to be, whether she survived the shipwreck and he wished to know where the rest of his crew was. He remembered falling into the sea after the explosion but if he had survived, they had to be alive as well, right? They were probably out looking for him.

He sat up, head hurting from the sudden movement but as he looked up at the shore he immediately knew where he was.

Home.

Up there he saw the castle and away a bit there was their bay. He somehow got to the beach he used to play at as a child when he was miles and miles away fighting pirates. Just how long he had been out? How long the sea had carried him on its back? How was this even possible? He wondered but thanked every deity that he had gotten home safely, so he could keep his promise made to his mother.

A moment later a dark shadow moved behind a huge rock by the beach and the prince immediately sprang to his feet.

“Hey, wait! Yes, you, please...” he yelled at the stranger, voice pleading because he had this gut feeling that there was something very important there. When the shadow didn’t move, neither closer, nor farther away, he took tentative steps by the seaside to approach the rock. Just as he passed by the rock, he noticed a girl in the water, the same from the pirate ship with her warm eyes and dark locks, but there was something different about her. At first, his eyes fell upon the naked shoulders of her, her long hair spreading all around her on the surface of the water, then he realized that the most outstanding of it all was the blue of her skin, the gill opening on her neck and the scattered golden scales along her body.

“You… you are a mermaid,” he whispered in awe suddenly remembering all the tales his mother had told him. His miraculous appearance here also made more sense because of it.

“I just wanted to make sure you are alive,” she said in a dulcet voice as if it was natural. He was actually glad she stayed and not just because she was the first mermaid (apart from his own mother of course) he had the chance to meet. He was indeed grateful.

“Did you bring me all the way here?” he asked and she simply nodded, watching him curiously. Brian wondered whether she found him just as interesting as he found her. It wasn’t because she wasn’t human but because she acted like one. Even his mother told him that her kind was brought up by the ruthless sea itself, so they believed in kill or to be killed. Befriending and saving humans was something that went against their own ethical codex. In some tribes it even meant betrayal, yet she took the risk for him, so he felt immense gratitude.

“Thank you,” he told her, words genuine even though he wasn’t sure she understood what it meant for him and why he wanted to know more about her. “Do you oft–”

He wanted to know if she visited this shore regularly, whether they had a chance to meet again, whether she would be up for a talk but life had got in-between.

“Your Highness!” a royal guard hollered and the mermaid swam away with the sound of quick flacks on the sea’s surface following her.

The prince looked after her, at the wavy sea, yearning for something even his heart couldn’t name.

You tried your best to forget him, to not miss him but all in vain. Once you were back with your tribe, you told them about your capture, the fight and how you escaped. It was hard not to tell them about the handsome prince who was there too but it would have been a stupid move on your part telling them that you blessed him with the gift of Sea. Not all of them would have been so understanding.

It was a silly thing, wasn't it? Being so enamoured with someone despite barely knowing anything about them. All you knew was that he was kind-hearted and not disgusted by your type. From a human, it was more than enough.

So you caught yourself hanging around the beach more, his beach to be more precise. He liked to take early morning jogs there - you definitely did not stare - and late night walks. Most of the times he was alone, sometimes he was with a beautiful, elder lady, hair similar to his. You were sure she was his mother but the most surprising thing was that it felt as if she was the part of the ocean too. It was a fading feeling but it was there and for a moment you couldn't believe but could it been? That the legends about the mermaid who became human were true? It would have explained why he behaved so naturally around her and why his crew was prepared enough to not get affected by her song. Everything made much more sense like this and it only added to your growing fascination with him.

You wondered whether the Sea adored or cursed at him? The child of one that got away, one that turned away from the depth? He seemed to be fine on water, he seemed rather fond of it, spending so much time around it, so you were pretty certain he also felt that pull that bind you to your home. It was just another symptom of homesickness.

After a week or so, you saw the prince getting abroad again, proud as the Lieutenant on a new ship heading towards South. You followed them from a certain distant and watched him. You told yourself it was because you didn't want him to stumble upon your tribe but actually your heart yearned for something even you couldn't explain. Maybe you wanted those soft eyes on you again, his gentle touch and kind words. You really weren't sure.

But it seemed like the Sea listened to your untold prayers when a storm came, a powerful one as you felt it in your fibers, the waves crashing to every rock with a power so harsh you trembled. It gave you an excuse to step out of the shadows under the moonlight, when almost everyone was sleeping on the ship. You had seen the prince walk back and forth every night alone on the deck, so that day you waited for him.

You psted at him trying to get his attention when he indeed walked out from his cabin with a simple white shirt hanging from his wide-shouldered figure. He looked around confused then you let out a whisper again and he ran to the side of the ship looking down at the water, seeing you above the service.

"Oh so I was right about being followed!" He muttered but there was nothing negative in his voice only wonder. You didn't even expect him to but then he climbed over the fence after throwing down a rope ladder and he climbed down until his boots touched the surface of water.

"I didn't get your name last time," was the first thing he said and it's ridiculous.

"That's not what's important now," you argued as you held onto the ladder too to keep it up easier against the wild current. "There's a huge storm coming. You need to turn more West to not run into it."

That's it, that's what you wanted to tell him, it's time to go, you reminded yourself and let go off the rope but at his voice you turned back.

"Hey! Don't go," he whisper-yelled after you and he sounded desperate. You had never heard anyone talk to you like that. As if the mere thought of you leaving again had been painful for him. "Why are you helping us?"

"You helped me last time," you reasoned but the prince seemed both a bit doubtful and a bit hopeful.

"Is that it? Just this?"

His voice wasn't accusing but curious and it felt like as if he wanted it to be more. It made you smile.

"What else would be there?" You raised a brow playful and something similar reflected in his eyes too as he leaned closer, letting go of the rope with one hand. What a daring, reckless man he was!

"Don't you feel this pull?"

Oh the one like waves? The one that followed the moon? The gravity? That strange power that attracted you to him? Your smile was like a secret love song whispered to the Sea, yet he caught sight of it as you blushed under the milk honey coloured light.

"To the West. Don't forget, my Prince," you reminded him and swam away with your ever still heart beating crazily against your ribcage.

Of course, Brian listened to you. He had nothing to lose. The journey was a bit longer with that detour which meant a more cranky crew because of they ran out of food and rum sooner than expected. But at least everyone survived. Even like this, the ship was tossed around in the water by the waves that came from the darkened part on the ocean. He knew that if it hadn’t been for you, they would have gone straight to the danger zone. So he was grateful but also even more curious than before. You were more playful than he thought at first, but then again, you met on the rim of death, of course you weren't joking with him back then.

He still didn't know your name and he who had found so many treasures, who had fought so many pirates and enemies, he was determined to change that. So he lost more and more sleep in order to meet you. Because yes, he had caught sight of you some nights when the Moon was high in the sky and your tail shone in all colours of the rainbow. Then at some point, you stopped being shy and only watch the ship from afar, you swam closer and closer until he spent half of his nights sitting on that rope ladder talking to you.

Those midnight rendezvous became your favourite part of the days. Just to listen to him talk about his duties as the prince and lieutenant, his worries about his country, his dreams, places he wants to see. In exchange you told him about your life underwater, your sisters in the tribe and how peaceful the waters had been around here until the pirates came. It turned out you had a common enemy in those dirty men. Both of you wanted to get rid of them, so you offered your help. It was a pretty cool deal, though both of you knew it was just an excuse. The only setback was the danger itself but you had never been one to give into fear so easily. You wouldn't have been alone anyway. Spending time with the prince wasn't too bad either.

"So tomorrow?" you looked up at him one night knowing that the next day you would reach the Triangle of Cages, the bay of pirates where you were told not to be able to leave once you're inside. But you had the element of surprise with you and with your skills you could help the crew.

"Yeah. Tomorrow," the Prince sighed, looking up at the Moon. He had some kind of melancholy in his eyes and you could easily tell that he was worried. Nobody knew how many pirates would be there and he only had a little armada of three ships with around hundred of people. Pirates might have been uneducated and untrained but they were rough, had grown up on the Sea, so they were an enemy nobody should have underestimate.

"It's going to be okay," you told him even though you always hated these kind of cheap promises. It was a simple lie, because how could you know for sure what was going to happen? It was all in the hands of the Sea.

"But if it's not... I wanna give you something," he said, warmth swimming in his dark eyes as he took something out of his pocket. It was a bracelet made of little pearls, it was pretty. "My mother said it once belonged to the Sea. I want to return it," he said as he handed the accessory out for you.

"You want to give it to me?" you blinked at him surprised. You didn't expect him to be so sentimental.

"You're part of the Sea, aren't you?" He raised an eyebrow at you almost challengingly. You had a hard time suppressing a smile but in the meantime it was a situation so much more serious.

"You own a bit of it as well," just like from my heart.

The prince smiled down at you almost as if he knew what exactly you meant and he was gentle as he put the bracelet around your wrist, fingers drawing soft pattern onto the back of your hand as his fingers slipped off you. You immediately missed his warmth.

"I still don't know your name," he whispered which made you giggle. You pulled yourself upwards by the rope on his side and beckoned him closer with your index fingers. You looked him straight in the eyes as he leant closer, breath fanning over your lips as you whispered your name like a secret into the seam of his mouth.

At first he seemed a bit taken aback by your closeness but before you could have pulled back, playfully winking at him, he sneaked a hand behind your neck to keep you there. To hold you when his mouth slid over yours, chapped rum-flavoured lips tasting your salty ones. Your breath hitched before kissing him back, fingers slipping into his burgundy locks. You only pulled back when he almost lost his balance on the rope ladder and fell into the water with you. Both of your chuckles echoed in the night sky as the sea welcomed you back with wide arms, calm waves pulling you under. You waved before you swam under, hiding your blushed cheeks in the water.

By now, you were sure the Sea was just as enamoured with him as you were, you didn't worry about tomorrow.

Twice upon a time, a prince fell in love with a mermaid.

He never lost any more battles on the sea but he always yearned to be out there, under the stars, in her arms. He walked along the line marked with sea-washed wishes in the sand under his feet, never straying far. For once, you didn't have to take his heart because he offered willingly. He loved you more than the Sun and the Moon and all the stars, coming back to you whenever he could. So when this time his mother asked him: do you miss it? He didn't have to think of an answer, it was as sure as his heartbeat, deeply integrated in his system.

"I miss her as I would miss the air, constantly and solidly, always." He smiled but his smile was hopeful because you both knew that no matter how harsh the Sea was, it wasn't only a graveyard, it was also a cradle of your love. Of another love story of which word got around not just in the Kingdom but every wave of the ocean.

#day6 scenarios #day6 imagines #young k imagines #young k scenarios #day6 brian #day6 young k #day6 younghyun #royalty au #siren au #little mermaid au #pirate au #fantasy au #stories

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mimymomo · 5 years ago

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These Scars Tell Promises

Sequel! Sequel! Sequel! So, since I seem to be the Orphydice parent AU person in the Hadestown fandom, here’s the sequel to my first Orphydice story posted here. Also, no one beta-read this so...be prepared for some bad grammar.

“Okay, the first thing on our list is what Orpheus?” Eurydice asked, swinging hers and Miko’s entwined hands back and forth. An earlier competitive match of who could squeeze the other hand harder now at a standstill.

“Let me see,” Orpheus said, using one hand to fish in his pockets, the other holding their empty woven basket. After a few seconds, he draws out a crumpled piece of notebook paper. He placed the paper on his thigh and fruitlessly attempted to iron out some of its crinkles. He brought the list back to his face and began reading. “So, we need to buy clothes, a mat, a toothbrush, huh...I can’t read the rest.”

Eurydice gave Orpheus a look, “didn’t you write the list yourself?”

“Yes...”

Eurydice rolled her eyes and laughed at her husband’s endearing silliness. “It’s fine. We’ll just figure it out as we go along. Miko, you stay close to us, okay? It’s really busy here.”

The market is located in the middle of town. Years ago, when Eurydice had first arrived, the market barely existed- nothing more than one or two stalls selling half-decent goods at overblown prices. Desperate sellers trying to make a buck from desperate survivors. But, ever since the return of spring and the balance of seasons a few years prior, produce and trade had exploded, resulting in the market heavily expanding. Now stalls, tents, and pushcarts lined the streets and filled with not only fresh fruits and vegetables but livestock, clothes, jewelry, homemade goods, and everything under the sun. Sometimes, even live music would be played near the entrance. With a careful ear, the boisterous songs could be heard when walking through the maze of screaming business.

The family of three pushed their way through the crowd. They stopped at nearly every stall in an attempt to check some items off their list. With not much money to either of their names, the couple knew how to bargain down prices with owners- Eurydice with her seasoned haggling skills and Orpheus and his boyish charms, they were a force to be reckoned with (plus a reference to the Hadestown experience and be the reason for the return of spring usually got people to change their minds real quick. Orpheus hated using this tactic so it was only used for the direst of instances and when Orpheus wasn’t present).

Miko stood a few steps behind the two, whipping his head around to take in all the sights. He had been to the market before, usually staying close to the exits so he could beg for scraps or spare change. The one time he ventured further into the fray, he had gotten caught trying to steal some bread from a particular cruel vendor and got beaten as a punishment. Then, he met Euri. Miko was grateful for his new home with Euri and Orphe, away from the mean man and his wife. No more yelling and cursing, no more hits and slaps and painful bruises, no more running away in the middle of the night and begging on the streets. He was free.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw him. A chill went up up the young boy's spine. No, he couldn’t have been there, he never comes here. He always made Miko or his wife go, ‘too much work’ he would say. Yet, Miko could recognize that jacket anywhere- black and maroon flannel lined with a cream fleece interior. Miko felt his breathing hitch. He couldn’t catch a breath no matter how deeply he inhaled. The world was spinning, round and round and round. The noises of chattering townsfolk and hollering shop owners rang in his ears- it was too loud. He wanted it all to stop.

“Okay, I think that’s about everything,” Eurydice said, rearranging the contents in their basket. “Miko, are you okay?”

Miko glanced back up at Euri, wringing his fidgeting hands, “I, I thought I saw-” He turned back around, but the man was gone, no sight of that familiar red in the dense crowd. “I...I okay.”

“Are you sure? You’re shaking like a leaf?” she asked, a ribbon of concern lacing every word. Miko just shook his head, still partially out of it. Eurydice didn’t believe him but glanced over to her husband. She was new to this mom thing. She had no clue how to handle situations like this.

Orpheus shook his head. There was no need to push him, he’d open when he was ready. “Yeah, it’s kinda chilly out here, huh, Miko?”

“Huh? Uh, yeah, yeah it is.”

“I think Kimberly runs a hot apple cider stand just up that way.” Orpheus pointed in the direction back the way they came, “let’s go grab a cup, okay?” Miko nodded his head, and Orpheus smiled, running his hand over the boy’s dark hair and down the side of his face, “okay then.”

Eurydice grabbed Miko’s hand and squeezed it. Then they were off. Miko felt the uneasiness in his stomach begin to lighten, replaced with warm relief at only Euri’s strength, and Orphe’s hopeful air could give.

“There’s Kimberly’s stand,” Orpheus said. Kimerbely’s stand was nothing extravagant- three large pitchers, two see-through, the other sterling silver, were on top of a single table covered with a red tablecloth, covered by an awning. Lime green and orange juices filled the two clear pitchers, thin slices of oranges, and what looked to be lemons and limes were placed in the jars as well. That left the silver pitcher to be the one with the cinder. Stacks of wrapped cookies and fruit bars lined the right side of the table, and a small chalkboard with prices occupied the left. A sweet, fruity scent filled the air as they approached, drawing them in, their mouths watering. However, they didn’t seem to be the only people who craved a warm treat on a chilly afternoon. They were greeted to a line stretching back to the middle of the pathway, a good dozen people or so.

Once they reached a few feet from the stand, Eurydice dropped Miko’s hand to pull out money from her satchel. “Okay, let’s see, where exactly does this line start?” Eurydice searched while Orpheus stood on his toes to catch a peek at the price board, both their backs turned to Miko. With both of them distracted, they failed to stop what happened next.

Miko felt a harsh tug and the back of his hood, forcing him to backpedal. Before he could scream, a grimy hand slipped over his mouth.

“Well, well, well.”

Miko froze. ‘No, no, no, no,’ he repeated his mantra of pleads his head, slowly turning around and was met with his worst nightmare: his father.

He was wearing the flannel jacket, covered in various colored stains from years of inadequate care, and a dirty black cap, the one he always wore when going out. It pushed back his greasy brown locks while hiding his menacing blue eyes under the brim. He removed his hand, “so, this is where you ran off to.”

Miko slowly stepped back, but his father continued to loom over ahead, his large frame casting a dark shadow over Miko, blocking any light. “Me and the wife have been looking for you.” Miko hardly believed that- his father only cared about him when he was useful, which wasn’t very often in his eyes. And his wife was probably passed out at the table, buzzed out of her mind from all the “juice” she’s consumed. His “parents” weren’t the type to go and gather a search party at the prospect of his disappearance.

“It don’t matter now. You’re back. Come on we’re going home.”

Miko shook his head, “no.”

His father began to scowl, eyes as pointed as freshly sharpened daggers. “What the hell you just say to me?”

Miko felt his little remaining confidence began to waver like someone had begun chipping away pieces of his armor. But he stood his ground, “not going.”

Ablaze of fury lit inside his father's eyes. The monster had unleashed, and he wasn’t happy. He reached out with his filthy fingers and coiled them around Miko’s arm. And with a forceful tug, he drew the boy close. He bent down, face to face with Miko, the strong stench of booze stinging the little boy's nose. “I didn’t fucking ask you what you wanted. Get your ass in gear, and let’s move!”

…

The line was much shorter than they thought, the group the dozen or so individuals all left at the same time which, left Orpheus and Eurydice next.

“Hey, long time no see,” Kimberly said, her eyes and smile bright as usual. “Let me guess, two hot ciders?”

“Actually, make that three ciders please,” Orpheus corrected politely.

“Three?” Kimberly asked puzzled. She glanced at the couple, “are one of you planning on drinkin’ two cups?”

“No, it’s for…” Eurydice spun around to see the spot next to her was vacant. No blue sweatshirt, no dark curly hair, no small boy, no Miko. “Miko? Miko? Miko!” Eurydice turned to Orpheus, “where’s Miko?”

Orpheus’ eyes widened and he began to search for Miko as well, “I, I don’t know. He was just right here! Miko!”

“Miko? Miko!”

The couple felt themselves start to panic. Eurydice frantically spun in circles looking in every direction for the young boy whole Orpheus scanned above the crowd. But they both were coming up completely empty until Orpheus saw a familiar hoodie in the distance.

“There! I see him!”

“Well then let’s go!” The two took off, completely forgetting about Kimberly and their ciders. They had their boy to get back.

…

He was pulling too hard, Miko’s wrist on fire from his grip. His father led him in the direction of the exit opposite of where he, Eurydice, and Orpheus had entered. He bumped into people’s legs with his shoulders and stepped on other's toes. People scoffed and yelled, but his father didn’t even bat an eye. Miko yanked his arm as hard as he could, again and again, and again. But, it didn’t matter, the older man was way too strong.

Just as Miko began to embrace his fate, he heard his name being called in the far distance.

“Miko! Miko!”

“Hey, stop!”

Eurydice and Orpheus.

“The hell…” his father spit, forcefully maneuvering himself and Miko through the crowd and into a dark, shady alley. While trying to escape the view of onlookers, the hammered man tripped over a piece of debris, loosening his grip. Miko slipped away his wrist and turned to run. However, his plan was quickly thwarted by his father, who took ahold of his hood and jerked him back, cutting off his airway for a short second. Miko gasped and coughed, falling to his knees from the shock of being choked, even if it was just for a short period. His father took him by the hood again and brought the boy up in the air, the tips of his feet just barely touching the ground. “The hell stunt you tryin’ to pull boy?” he growled.

Miko struggled to breathe, the cotton fabric of his hoodie pushing against his throat. He was getting dizzy and light-headed. He wanted his Euri and Orphe.

“Miko!”

Miko, twisted his head to see Eurydice and Orpheus running in his direction. “Eu..ri,” he slurred, his voice still raspy and sore from the constant pulling of his hood.

His father addressed the young couple, “just who the hell are you people?”

“Give is our kid back,” Eurydice snarled, not bothering to dignify the man with a proper response to his question.

The man cackled, “your kid?” He sauntered over to the young woman, cockiness oozing through each footstep. “You sure as hell don’t look that whore I banged a few years back. Who left that, leech,” he spat as if poison on his tongue, “on my porch, claiming that was my kid. Forcing me to look after that ingrate. So, no girly, that ain’t your kid.”

Eurydice’s fingers balled into a tight fist, blood pounding in her ears. She knew she needed to keep her composure, but it was a losing battle. She took a deep breath closing her eyes, “well, I know damn well that we’d be better parents than you could ever dream of being. And that Miko would much rather come home with us.”

“That brat doesn’t know what he wants!”

“Yes, I do,” Miko said, running to stand between his father and Eurydice. “I want Euri and Orphe!” The man sent a quick slap to Miko’s face, the sound echoing in the deserted alley.

Eurydice felt something snap inside her, and without fully realizing it, she impulsively punched the man in front of her.

A brawl broke out between the two. The man may be twice her size, but Eurydice was quicker on her feet. She had been in plenty of fights in her life, mostly in bars or beds, and usually with men like Miko’s supposed father: sloppy drunk.

All of a sudden, Miko felt his body get scooped up and wrapped in a tight embrace. “Orphe!” he wailed, burrowing his head against Orpheus’ warm skin, violent sobs wracking his tiny body. Orpheus cradled the back of Miko’s head into the crook of his neck, wanting to shield the boy from the fighting in front of them.

“Shh, shhh, I’ve got you, Miko,” Orpheus cooed, bobbing his body up and down in an attempt to soothe the frantic child, “we’re here. Everything is fine.”

Eurydice continued her assault on the older man, venting all her wrath through the sharp, snappy attacks of her fist. The sound of heavy punches and kicks hitting tough skin and pained grunts and moans sang throughout the alleyway.

“Fine,” the man yelled, pulling away from Eurydice, his lip busted and bleeding and nose unnaturally crooked. “If you want that little shit so badly, take him. He ain’t worth any of this!” He hurled venous insults at the family as he staggered away, the sight of his limping body disappearing in the sea of people.

Eurydice pulled herself to her feet, spitting a mix of blood and dirt from her mouth onto the grimy pavement. After adjusting her rumpled dress and with a quick swipe at her nose, she spun around to face Orpheus and Miko. Suddenly, as if someone had flipped a switch, all the anger vanished from Eurydice’s eyes, replaced with a look of alarm. “Miko! Oh, honey, are you okay?”

Miko timidly lifted his head from Orpheus’ shoulder and was greeted by an unholy sight. Eurydice was sporting a jagged cut on her forehead, puffy, and covered in muck. Her left eye was swollen shut. A dark mark that most certainly would bruise rested on her cheek. And blood pooled from her nose, dripping crimson droplets onto her now ripped dress.

Miko’s face scrunched up in agony, his chin trembling, “Euri! Euri, I sorry! I sorry Euri! I so sorry!”

“Oh, Miko,” Eurydice cried, urgency bleeding through her words, as she sped over the boy. She placed her hands on Miko’s wet cheeks, gently avoiding the red welts of an imprinted hand. Orpheus gasped at how raw and bruised her knuckles were. But Eurydice paid no mind to her pain, completely centering her focus on the weeping child in her husband’s arms. “Miko. No, no, Miko, don’t apologize, this isn’t your fault.”

“No! Euri hurt! Euri hurt, and it’s all my fault!” Miko was hysterical, the dam holding back his tears had decimated. Soon his words were lost in a slurry of blubbering tears and slobbery sniffles.

“No, no, Miko, that’s not true. Right, Orpheus? Orpheus...” Eurydice trailed off taking a good look at her husband.

His eyes were red and glassy from trying to hold back tears, his body oddly jerking. He looked so pained and lost, like a young child, like Miko.

Eurydice frowned, she didn’t realize how worried not only Miko would be, but Orpheus as well. She felt exhausted, her body aching. Silently, amidst her tears, she pulled the two boys into her arms, her fingers curling into the hair on the back of their heads. The boys quickly followed suit, Miko dipping his head into Eurydice’s neck, Orpheus wrapping his one empty arm around his wife’s back. They hugged and hugged tight until not an inch of space was left between them, the air unbelievably hot. The three stayed there in the alley weeping for who knows how long. Noises from the bustling market just a few steps away faded to nothing, static in the ears. The pungent smell of putrid produce and rotting meat wafted through the air around them, but none of them cared. They just held each other close, and listened to their muffled cries, mumbled apologies, pounding heartbeats, and shaky breaths.

Eurydice was the first to pull back, eyes shifting back and forth, from Miko to Orpheus, Orpheus to Miko. The young boy had stopped his stopping crying, heavy sobs, exchanged for soft hiccups.

“Miko, Miko, listen to me,” Eurydice said, her voice stern yet brimming with love. “You listening?” He nodded his head. “This was not your fault. None of it, absolutely none. You hear me?”

Miko shook his head, “but-”

“No buts,” Eurydice said fiercely, burning brown eyes locked with teal green. She needed him to hear her, understand what she was saying. She couldn’t let him continue to blame himself and living with undeserved guilt. “This, all of what happened here, wasn’t your fault. You are not in trouble for any of this.”

Miko sniffled once more, “but you got hurt…”

“I’ll be just fine,” Eurydice smiled, brushing dark locks out of Miko’s face. “Cuts and wounds heal and fade away. Some may become scars that stay, but even those, in turn, heal. And each scar tells a story, some pleasant, some painful.” She stares into shimmering teal irises. “And these scars I have here,” she points to the cut on her forehead and the scratches littering her face, “are tales of promises. Promises that I will always, always, protect you. From any harm or any danger. Okay?”

Eurydice didn’t know where these words were coming from, but she had a strong suspicion. After years together, her poet was rubbing off on her. All his constant promises of love and stability and a brighter future, his quiet affirmations on her darkest days that light was still there, and things would get better his loyalty and faith. Eurydice knew the power of true love and promises, and she wanted to share that with the other most important person in her life. She may have only known the boy for a little over a day, but she couldn’t imagine her life without him or Orpheus in it. When she fell, she fell hard fast.

The young boy rubbed his nose, “okay, Euri.”

“Can you smile for me?” she asked, yet Miko continued to frown. “Ahh come on, can I get one smile please?” He gave her a weak, uneasy smile. “Nope, that won’t do. I need a real, big smile. I guess I’m just gonna have to...tickle you for it!” Eurydice wiggled her fingers on Miko’s tummy, causing him to laugh, a wide grin spilling over his lips.

“Euri!” Miko screamed through giggles.

Eurydice abandoned her assault, “there, perfect.” She leaned over a placed a quick kiss on his flushed cheek before turning to face Orpheus. “Lover, why are you crying? You and I both know I’ve been through much worse.”

Orpheus didn’t respond. Instead, he reached out to cup Eurydice’s cheek. Smeared blood stained his calloused hands, still sticky and faintly warm. Hazel eyes dimmed, fingertips running light circles over red bruises. He could’ve stopped this. He should’ve stopped this. What kind of husband just stands and watches his wife take on a man double her size? A bad one.

Eurydice, as if she could read his mind, shook her head, “you couldn’t have done anything, Lover.”

“I could’ve helped you,” he said lowly.

“You did. You protected Miko and kept him safe. That helped me more than any punch.”

Orpheus lifted her busted hands to his face, placing feathery kisses over each knuckle. His lips the best medicine she could ask for. Next, he moved to her cheeks, then her temples, and nose, careful not to apply too much pressure, and finally her lips.

“Yuck,” Miko gagged, sticking his tongue out and closing his eyes.

The two pulled away and glanced over at their boy. “Yuck? What do you mean ‘yuck’?” Eurydice asked, feigning offense. She began kissing all over Miko’s face, Orpheus joining in as well.

“Ahhh, no,” he shrieked, squirming in Orpheus’ arms.

With a final kiss, Eurydice backed away, “alright, you two, ready to head home?”

Orpheus sighed, “yes, please.”

Miko grinned, “home!”

The three made their way out of the darkened alley and back onto the main road. The sun was setting over the horizon; the sky tinted an array of oranges and purples. The once crowded street was now nearly desolate. Men and women, and others were busy wrapping up and shutting down their stalls.

“I guess the market is closing up,” Orpheus concluded as they continued their walk.

As they reached the entrance, Miko spoke up, "hey Orphe?”

“Yes, Miko?”

“Where’s the basket?”

Orpheus furrowed his brows. “What basket?” he asked, puzzled.

“You and Euri’s.”

Oh, their grocery basket! “Oh, that’s right…” Wait, where did they put it at?

Suddenly, Orpheus froze in his spot.

“Orpheus?” Eurydice asked, confusion plaguing her expression.

“Eurydice.”

“Yes?”

“We left the grocery basket in the alley…”

“...shit.”

#hadestown #orphydice #orpheus x eurydice #orphydice parents #my fic tag #orpheus #eurydice #miko centered

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nekoabiwrites · 6 years ago

Text

Rain On Me

I re-listened to the Emo the Musical soundtrack today and I just... had to write something. Here’s the song used in the fic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eS2c4pvQNrw

AU: School Pairings: Pining Moxiety Words: 2160 Warnings: Bullying, Feelings of Isolation, Swear words. If there’s anything else, let me know.

Summary: Virgil starts a new school, meets a cute boy, but doesn’t know how to deal with it.

Virgil was terrified. He was utterly and completely scared shitless. How had this managed to happen?

The young student sat in his room, his skinny jean-covered legs crossed and almost disappearing into the black sheets. His precious guitar was laying across his lap as he was in the middle of restringing it, but his thoughts had managed to distract him.

His mind was stuck on an event that had happened in the halls at school some weeks ago.

As one of the resident ‘weird, scary kids’, Virgil was used to people knocking into him in the halls. They tended to move in close, so they could knock his shoulders, seemingly in attempts to make him drop his things. Others preferred to dodge out of his way and stare at him as he passed, almost as if he were a dangerous animal that was kept there for them to gawk at whenever they pleased. All because he dressed differently. But whatever, it didn’t matter anymore.

This was a brand-new school, where he’d not yet been categorized so harshly. No one here knew him yet, at least not outside of first impressions. And the best part was that he wasn’t even the only one anymore. There were others like him, who looked like him, liked what he liked, and they’d even adopted him into their group on the first day, which was great. Virgil finally had a sense of belonging.

But then, not even two months into his first semester at this school, something just had to happen.

Virgil had been walking through the halls, his head down as usual. He was used to using the limited view he had and sounds around him in order to avoid running into anyone. This one time though, that hadn’t worked.

Suddenly, Virgil found himself bumping into another body, which made him look up sharply and get ready to apologise as best he could. But his voice caught in his throat.

The boy he’d run into was absolutely gorgeous. He seemed to almost radiate light, with his bright wide eyes and his soft-looking, fluffy hair. Even though he was about a head shorter than Virgil was, the boy had a presence that was larger than Virgil could even imagine having. It wasn’t commanding attention, more just grabbing it by accident with a polite thank you as it did so. When the boy smiled and asked if he was okay in the sunniest voice imaginable, Virgil could feel his stomach doing flips and churning. Virgil had nodded lightly in response, unable to speak. The happy student had then grinned wide and went to say something but was interrupted by a call from some other students down the hall. The boy, who Virgil had not managed to pick up the name of, quickly offered up a small apology and a wish for him to have a good day before shutting his locker door and bounding off down the corridor towards the two who’d called for him.

Virgil had been stuck there for a good few seconds, watching the back of this utterly entrancing boy walk away down the hall. From that day onwards, his face had burned brightly whenever he thought back to that moment. He’d also started to notice the boy throughout the school a lot more often, noticing the pastel colours from the other end of the hallway sometimes.

And then, Virgil found out they shared a class together. Not just any class, but their music class. Where they were going to have to perform and sing. And they were sat next to each other. How Virgil hadn’t noticed before, he would never know.

Throughout the rest of the semester, Virgil managed to deal with this set back fairly well. The boy, who he’d eventually realised was named Patton, was friendly and open with him, which was something new. He’d initiated many conversations with Virgil and been extremely patient with him, which was something that utterly baffled the young musician. Patton had also been so excited when he found out Virgil could play the guitar. It took only a few weeks after that for Patton to officially call him a friend, which both excited and hurt Virgil. He managed to find out through their little conversations that Patton had friends all over the school, was a part of the student council, sometimes worked as a library volunteer and helped out at the primary school across the road when he was asked to. Every little scrap of information just made Virgil fall deeper and deeper for the gorgeous student. He could almost see some return of that interest, by the way Patton seemed to giggle at everything, the way he almost reached for Virgil’s hand or arm constantly. Just all these little things started to add up and Virgil began to feel hope.

It was half way through the semester that he started to get a lose that hope.

His friend group wasn’t exactly the nicest group of people, but they were who Virgil stuck with. They were nice to each other – for the most part – but they did love to shit talk everyone else at school. One day, that attention focused on the student council because they’d had an assembly where it was mentioned that they were trying to get a code of dress introduced to disallow hateful or harmful slogans on clothing. His group seemed convinced it was an attack on them and so, since then, all the hate has been directed towards the student council.

Virgil was now stuck in a hard place. He wanted to be accepted by his friends, but he also wanted to stay close to Patton. But with a couple of his friend group also in the same music class, Virgil was at a rough point.

It almost felt as though he was stuck in a storm of his own making.

The only way he could deal with this was through his only personal outlet.

After finishing up the strings, Virgil positioned his guitar just how he liked it and began to play a gentle song.

Show up on my weather report When I least expect it Scare all my neighbours away Through that emergency exit

Hit me like a storm Blow my walls away Peel off my paintwork Tear up my floorboards Come on and rain on me

Come on and rain on me Come on and rain on me

I like everything about you and I think that you like me so Come on and rain on me

In the background, it had actually begun to rain outside, and quite heavily too. The strong winds whipped the trees around, causing loud rustling and cracking as they made contact with the side of his house. The large raindrops fell with a heavy, constant sound that just calmed him even more. Virgil had already had the window open, so the sounds were louder than they would have been.

Had the student been paying attention, he would have noticed a figure standing out in the rain, staring up at his window. He may have noticed the instantly recognisable colour of the umbrella and how it came closer as he began to sing again.

Chase me to a foreign country I've never heard of before Cut off my friends and family Send me marching to war

Break through my bomb shelter And lift the roof sky high Shower me with your rocks and debris Come on and rain on me

Come on and rain on me Come on and rain on me

I'll be weak enough for you if you'll be strong enough for me Come on rain on me

I like everything about you

Come on, rain on me

Virgil hadn’t realised he’d closed his eyes as he’d been singing to himself. He opened them slow, feeling the calm that had seeped into his extremities. Only music could do that for him and he was so thankful for it, he had a moment where he wasn’t stressed about everything in his life.

“That was so beautiful…” came a soft voice from his doorway.

The student physically jumped and turned sharply to look at his now-open door. His dark eyes were wide as he took in the boy standing there.

“What? How? When?” Virgil croaked out, feeling his throat beginning to close as his heart rate pounded in his ears.

“I heard you outside. Your parents let me in after I said we were friends… Sorry, I-I’ll leave…”

“No!” Virgil dropped the guitar to the side and almost fell off of his bed as he scrambled to get the other to stay, “No, I…” He huffed, trying to figure out his words in a hurry, “Patton, I just… I didn’t expect someone to be there.”

Patton stopped mid-turn and looked up at the other with a slightly guilty look, “I still shouldn’t have come in… I’m sorry.” He began to back away towards the stairs,

Virgil dove and grabbed his arm desperately, “No, no, no! It’s fine!” He frantically searched the other’s face. There was the worry that this would be what ruined everything for him, this could be the end for both of them.

“Are… are you sure?” Patton murmured, his eyes fixed on where Virgil’s hand currently was holding him.

“Yeah, I’m really sure.”

“Really really?”

“Patton.”

That got the shorter of them to giggle gently. “Okay, I believe you…”

Virgil let out his own breathy laugh, relief swallowing him whole. After an awkward few seconds, Virgil realised he was still holding Patton’s arm. He quickly retracted his arm, “Um, do you… wanna come in and, hang out, or something?” He awkwardly coughed.

Patton smiled and clasped his own hands together in front of himself, “Mmhmm.”

The pair avoided bringing up anything about both of their pink-tinged cheeks, both seemingly trying to mentally dodge the idea that it was anything to do with attraction from the other. They settled down in Virgil’s room, both slowly relaxing more as time passed. Patton was allowed to try Virgil’s guitar, as he was extremely interested.

The emo was more than happy to show Patton a few things about playing the guitar. He showed him how to play a few chords, positioning the other student’s fingers which left his own tingling. Patton asked him about strumming and how that worked, and Virgil knew the best way to instruct but wasn’t sure if it was appropriate.

“Uh, I mean, the best way to… show you is to, have me help you?” Virgil said with a soft blush once more.

Patton seemed to understand immediately, as his own cheeks reddened. He continued to smile however, “Would you mind?”

It took a bit of work, but the two of them shifted around so Patton was sat in front of Virgil, who’s legs were resting either side of him. Virgil rested his arms atop Patton’s in order to grasp a hold of his hands, which he did with a slight note of hesitation. It wasn’t until just now that Virgil realised just how much shorter Patton was than him, or just how small he was in general. The emo was able to rest his head comfortably to the side of Patton’s and still not have to peek over his shoulder, his arms were more than able to reach where they needed to be right now. In fact, he could have likely wrapped one of his arms almost three quarters of the way around the other boy.

Virgil tried to not get too distracted by the fact he had his crush so close to him. In a low, gentle voice, he explained what he was getting Patton to do as he strummed with the boy’s hand under his own. After a little bit, the two sat quietly, focusing on the soft sounds of the rhythmic, strumming guitar and rain outside.

“Hey, Virgil?” Patton spoke so softly that Virgil almost missed it.

“Yeah?”

The shorter shook his head, “Uh, nothing.”

Virgil tilted his head around to try and catch a glimpse of Patton’s face, “Tell me.”

Patton pushed himself out of Virgil’s hold and stood, holding the guitar out towards the emo with a heavy blush, “Play that song again?”

Something gnawed at the back of Virgil’s mind that what Patton just asked of him likely wasn’t what was originally going to come out of him, but he left the topic alone. He thought that if it was something Patton really wanted to say, he would say it when he was ready. Virgil took the guitar and set himself up comfortably, giving Patton enough room to sit on the bed along with him. Time passed and the two lost themselves to the calming nature of the gentle music backed up by the beautiful sound of the rain outside. Perhaps they wouldn’t reach a conclusion today, but Virgil really didn’t feel like they needed to, this was enough for now.

------ Next

My other stuff: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/myworks Mobile Accessible Masterlist: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/post/181954641376/fic-masterlist

General Tag List: @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @didsomeonesayprince @llamaly @justanotherpurplebutterfly @iaminmultiplefandoms @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @lowkeyvirgilobsessed @louisthewarlock @fangsandrainbows @xxladystarlightxx @sleepyssnail @ao-koshka @notalwaysthevillian @pumpkinminette @doces-e--tuga

#Sanders Sides #Fanfiction #Moxiety #Virgil Sanders #Patton Sanders #Anxiety Sanders #Morality Sanders #Sanders Sides Fanfiction #School AU #Rain On Me #Based on Emo The Musical

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writings-of-a-british-fangirl · 6 years ago

Text

Fate Had Other Plans (Loki Laufeyson x Reader) [Fated Had Other Plans PART 1/?]

Title: Fate Had Other Plans Summary: After you return back to the Grandmaster (from you and Valkyrie's scrapper expedition), he introduces you to a familiar face. An old lover. Warnings: Emotions (??!!) Request: N/A- not requested, just feeling like a Loki hoe again

A/N: I know Valkyrie's name isn't actually Valkyrie (it's Brunnhilde), but for the purposes of this fic, that's what I'll be calling her. Also, there's implied Grandmaster x Reader!

And, the Reader is a Goddess but its barely mentioned! Depending on how this goes down, I might do a part two including more of the events of Ragnarok- let me know tho!

Also, I wrote this while listening to Wish That You Were Here by Florence + The Machine!!

PART 1: Fate Had Other Plans

PART 2: Fated To Fall

PART 3: Coming Soon… Possibly

Want to read more of my stuff? >>Here<< OR >>Here [Mobile]<< [Got any feed back? I’d love to hear it!]

Want to see the upcoming requests? >>Here<<

Loki Laufeyson~Fate Had Other Plans

Skaar, for the longest time now, had been home to you. It was where you resided. After a series of unfortunate events too long and too tedious for you to frequently recall, you ended up on Skaar- along with every other lost and wandering soul in the known galaxy it seemed. Despite your actual home, Asgard, being all but a distant memory, you did find yourself longing for it every now and then. Especially since you made a new friend.

Scrapper 142.

Well, that's what you had first known her as. You were introduced through the Grandmaster. He oversaw Skaar, and thanks to your wit and charming nature, you had managed to gain favour with him pretty quickly. Soon, you were practically by his side for most of the day. Including when he was brought prizes: champions.

His favourite champion had been brought to him by Scrapper 142, by Valkyrie, and he was known as the Hulk. You didn't have much interaction with him, but you did with Valkyrie. Whenever you could slip away from the Grandmaster, you would try and find her. She was usually drinking- you would join her and soon she started enjoying your company. Something about her reminded you of home, of Asgard. It wasn't long before she started to open up to- what could you say: being the Goddess of Truth had its perks!

But, as a good friend, you shared details of your past too- of your life on Asgard… Of your dearly missed Princes.

It was true: you had been close to Loki and Thor before you had been ripped away from them. They often crossed your mind. Particularly Loki. You and Thor had been friends- but, Loki? Loki was your best friend. You told him everything, dedicated most of your time to him, wanted more from him- with him…

Ultimately, fate had placed you somewhere. And, those desires and thoughts would only exist in your head, not in your reality.

~~~

Valkyrie had invited you out on one of her searches over the scrap heaps. After convincing the Grandmaster to let you out of his sight long enough to go with her, you jumped aboard her ship. As much as you loved the main city, the noise and the culture, the Grandmaster's pampering and attention, you also liked to get away. It helped you think: clear your mind.

Today, however, would pan out to be much more interesting that you'd anticipated.

While Valkyrie's scrapping went by pretty uneventful, as soon as you arrived back, you noticed something was off. Firstly, the Grandmaster was not there to greet you. Usually, he would be delighted to see his favourite Asgardian and his favourite scrapper return. Val didn't think much of it- she shrugged and suggested maybe he just got distracted or was busy. Before you had realised it, she had disappeared back to her quarters and you were left alone.

Slowly, you wandered down the hall to where the Grandmaster usually is.

You thought you recognised a voice, but you were too far away to be certain that it was… him. Eventually, you emerged from the hall way and were greeted excitedly by the Grandmaster. He grabbed your hand and led you over to a figure you didn't initially recognise.

"Y/N! There is someone I would like you to meet- he's a prince! Isn't that wonderful?!" the Grandmaster told you, giving you barely any time to react.

The man turned around: you almost died of shock.

There he was, in all his Asgardian glory. Longer hair than last time, and with a few more signs of age than you remembered but he definitely was still the trickster you played with when you were young all those moons ago. Still the God of Mischief you never thought you'd see again.

Still Loki.

The words of the Grandmaster fell on deaf ears and you could barely comprehend anything that was happening. Loki? Here on Skaar? It couldn't be… You gently tugged on the Grandmaster's sleeve and offered him a polite smile.

"I am very tired from my trip, darling," you murmur, "I can greet… our guest later."

He nods- the Grandmaster may have been eccentric and slightly unpredictable but he did care for you.

"Very well," he smiles, "See you later."

You nod and flee the room.

~~~

Loki watches you leave in absolute confusion. How were you here? Why were you here? And, why were you calling the Grandmaster 'darling'? An almost uncontrollable wave of jealousy was brought upon Loki. He hadn't seen you in… In what felt like a life time. Loki knew he wasn't entitled to feel jealous… Anything that had been between the two of you surely had long faded away. He cursed himself as he felt sour memories resurfacing.

He had to speak to you.

After the Grandmaster had finished introducing him to other party guests, Loki found a way to slip from the room and look for you. Loki had been here for a few days while you had been away with Valkyrie, and unbeknownst to him the Grandmaster had been talking about you (who he had fondly talked about but never explicitly named) this whole time. He sighed. It felt wrong to still… want you? Love you? Loki didn't know his own feelings, and that was the cause of the problem last time.

Loki paused.

He heard your voice- you were singing. It was an old Asgardian song and it made his heart ache for his 'home.' For how it was when you were children. Long ago.

Again, he found that he couldn't move- or didn't want to. He wasn't sure. Maybe he wanted to hold onto the moment; he was sure his presence would ruin the next moment. Gently, he knocked on the door and nerves collected in his chest like insects. They swarmed and hummed as he heard you move across the room and open the door.

"Val, you know you don't have to knock-"

"-Not, Val, sorry," Loki said, trying to make eye contact with you, "It's been a while."

"Loki, I…"

You falter and suddenly you don't know what to say anymore. The words get stuck in your throat, and your mind is trying to decide whether to scream at him to leave, or invite him in. After… After you had left Asgard, you never thought you'd see him again- let alone under these circumstances.

"I have some explaining to do, I'll admit," Loki murmurs, his voice as charming as ever.

You curse him for it.

"Some explaining?" you ask, almost in disbelief, "Loki, you died! You were dead! Thor… He said you fell from the bifrost! 'Some explaining'?! You have more to do than that! You-"

"-Well, what about you?!" Loki argued back, matching your anger.

Whenever the two of you had argued in the past, he always did have a habit of escalating the situation. Back then, you had Frigga to mediate and elevate tension from the argument. She… You hadn't seen her in an age. Inside you, you felt the anger boil down to sadness and regret.

"What about me, Loki? Do tell," you snap, trying to hold back tears.

"You! Here- here on Skaar, together with the Grandmaster? How did that happen, huh?" Loki yelled, but internally he was screaming at himself- he hadn't come here to yell.

"I needed someone! After you left, I had no one! No one!" you retaliated, tears welling up in your eyes, "Are you really going to condemn me because I felt lonely? Because I wanted someone to hold me again?!"

You sighed and stepped back.

"If you came here to yell-"

"-I did not. Truthfully," Loki said trying to lower his voice, "I came here… I came here because I wanted to see you again… I came here because I missed you."

"Loki…"

Part of you wanted to throw him out and tell him to never speak to you again, and the other part just wanted to embrace him. The part of you which had been scorned, which knew you should learn from the past told you to let Loki go. Leave it.

"The Grandmaster is probably looking for me- I should go," Loki whispers, his face soft.

He begins to walk off but you call him back.

"Loki, I missed you too."

Fate had other plans.

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abbysroad · 6 years ago

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2019

A month ago today I sat in Beacon Theatre, trying to discern the features on Bob Dylan’s face. The halo of curly hair I recognized, but it was hard to see that those were the eyes that peered at me from record sleeves, those the lips that curled around a cigarette in the back of some limousine.

I decided recently that my Dylan obsession must be a subconscious reaction to the Trump administration. On January 5, 2017, when I still found his voice grating and his lyrics pretentious, three weeks before Trump’s inauguration, I wrote a note on my phone: “Dream of Bob Dylan, discussing The Band.” I think I had resolved to start writing down my dreams. (That resolution never sticks. They’re always too convoluted to capture and too strange to want to face.) That was the semester I spent in Madrid, listening to Boots of Spanish Leather on repeat. This year, I cycled through each of his studio albums, viewing his whole corpus as a saga I have the privilege of experiencing in consolidated form, 50 years after it began. I picture plebeians in medieval Spain gathering around to listen to chivalric romances from the one guy who could read. I too distract myself from the mundane with tales of the king of the Philistines and Queen Mary (she’s my friend) and Shakespeare in the alley with his pointed shoes and his bells.

But this year was much more than Dylan. I didn’t travel much, but I went to Washington, D.C., and I finally made it upstate. I read some books and wrote a thesis. I moved in with my boyfriend and interned at a newspaper and rode my bike to Rockaway and, on the Fourth of July, watched the sour smoke of firecrackers flare around my rooftop, as if the city were under siege. I like it here in Queens. It has everything I need. In some ways, it echoes the small town where I grew up. On quiet nights in Massachusetts, I could hear the commuter train to Boston whistle as it whizzed by on tracks half a mile from my house. Now, I hear the M when it rattles out to Middle Village, and I hear it again as it rolls back to the city, en route to the northern part of Queens. The church bell, like the one at home, rings every 15 minutes before going to bed at 10 p.m.

There is no way for me not to face the new year with trepidation, though. I don’t know how much longer I will live in Queens, or even in New York, because I graduated college this winter and I need to find a job. I feel like Esther Greenwood with the fig tree. I’m not afraid to choose a fig, though; I’m afraid to write. The prospect of a career — such a leaden word, “career” — has made me self-conscious, because I know that a potential employer may read anything I write online. Newspapers don’t want someone opinionated, I tell myself. I stifle my love for feminist theory with the conviction that no one will want to hire someone whose ideas about gender politics diverge from what is accepted. I cannot make my contempt for our objectively poor president known; journalists have no business expressing political opinions, and everything you write will come back to haunt you, someday.

So I stick to listening to Dylan records, bowing to a man whose brilliance no one can contest. Just look at the consonance in “Queen Jane Approximately,” I’ll call to my boyfriend from the living room where I sit with a book of Dylan Thomas poems, replaying Dylan songs in search of allusions to his namesake. Or, Can you believe he created an album so perfect that he had to scrap a song as brilliant as “She’s Your Lover Now,” which wasn’t released until 2015? I want to talk about “Fourth Time Around” and “Norwegian Wood.” I want to talk about which drugs Dylan was on when writing which songs. I want to talk about “Yer Blues,” and John Lennon screaming, “I don’t believe in Zimmerman,” and Zimmerman screaming, “I don’t believe you. You’re a liar. Play it fucking loud.” I want to talk about these things because even though they make me just another insufferable NYU girl who likes poetry and rock and roll, they can offend no one. I want to listen to “Visions of Johanna” until my vision blurs and the lights on the Empire State Building go dark forever. I’ll write more for you when I’m ready. Just know I’m studying the best.

#writing #new year's #bob dylan

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jphagger · 6 years ago

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Cross Country Trip Entry #3

On Thursday I woke up from the stale air of the canopy and a thin film of sweat from the hot surroundings. My side was apparently the eastern end of the Walmart parking lot, and a hand to the canvas confirmed it by the heat. The roof was cool from the evaporating dew and Jeffrey lay awake next to me browsing the internet on his phone. We packed up our small camp quicker than the morning prior and headed to Cuyahoga Valley National park.

Jeffrey looked up a few trails on the way over and we decided on a waterfall hike that was 8 miles long and promised views of three different falls. We had a quick breakfast of frosted mini wheats and packed a pair of granola bars each, somewhat stoked at the idea of being out on the trail before 10AM.

The hike was interesting, winding through unmarked trails along a river and delivering on the promise of waterfalls, though it was made slightly less serene than a similar New York scene by the emanating, inescapable sounds of Interstate 80 the whole way. We passed a “ski slope” that couldn’t have been more than 300 feet of downhill and cracked quite a few “what’s there to do in Ohio? Nothing.” jokes. These were later confirmed by a handful of people that happen to be from Ohio without much prompting.

After our first hike, which was assisted by a very nice park ranger that provided us with paper trail maps, we drove to another section of the park called The Ledges for lunch. Jeffrey boiled 4 perfect hardboiled eggs and we threw together an avocado, bean, egg, and Rotel spicy tomato salad with toast. Road food thus far has been both healthy and delicious.

I was enjoying the sunny day and the quiet rustling of the wind through the trees when an inconspicuous black SUV pulled into the shady spot next to our truck and idled for a few minutes. After a few more minutes of idling and then two levels of fan blowing stepped-up noise I decided to politely ask the driver if they would mind opening their windows rather than using the A/C. Jeffrey was worried (and so was I, really) that I wouldn’t handle the situation properly, but after a bit of thought I approached him and we had a very pleasant conversation.

We sat for a few more minutes and I jotted down some of the key points of the day for later before embarking on the short Ledges hike. It turned out to be more beautiful than I had expected from the pictures posted in the trail reviews. We certainly are spoiled in that regard- being able to look at reviews for hiking trails... Along the way we scrambled on rocks and looked at the cool sandstone pockets in the boulders.

An older couple was walking in front of us and as we passed them we made small talk. The man ended up being from the Stony Brook area and they were on a trip visiting three more national parks out of their current 42. We talked about Acadia and traveling through Utah and they recommended parks to see; the woman said her favorite so far was actually Acadia. At the overlook part of the trail I found it amusing that they seemed just as unimpressed as we were by the fairly normal landscape view of green trees and high tension wires coupled, of course, by Interstate music.

We meandered back to the car and started the drive to Brendan’s house in Michigan, stopping almost as quickly at the sight of a climbing gym and outdoor store pair on the route. The gear in stock was beautiful, but also highly priced so I stuck with just getting a chalk refill and some nice conversation with the cashier.

On the highway Jeffrey browsed the internet for a while and kept us awake with good music. An hour or so in I suggested that we look for odd jobs on Craigslist, sort of as a longshot but also semi seriously. Jeffrey found an Ad by a man named Greg. He was in search of a pair of “street teamers” to promote his new movie, which sported a picture of a crazy looking man dangling two knives, the title Hectic Knife and the description “a crazy new meta comedy parody of comic book movies... all of ‘em!” Jeffrey responded that we were a pair of hip millennials travelling cross country, and that our experience posting “Lost dog” posters and interacting with people along our travels surely qualified us to advertise for his event.

He never texted back.

Further down the road, after a few similar responses, including one to a man looking for furniture to be moved, we focused back on the music. Jeffrey requested that I ask Katie, one of our mutual friends from back home, what that song was with “Peaches” in the title. She didn’t respond quickly enough, so we spent the next hour listening to every song on spotify with the word peaches in it.

At Brendan’s house we were greeted by a familiar warm smile and highly infectious laughter. Brendan told us about his job and introduced us to the other interns living in the apartment and we loosely discussed our plans for the next day. Jeffrey received a text back from the guy looking for moving help on craigslist, and we were very excited until the request of a 7AM meeting time.

We went to sleep fairly early with the 5:45 AM alarm looming in our minds and woke up feeling refreshed and nervously curious about this curious person promising $40 to move furniture. On the drive over we discussed a few things including how much money to leave in our wallets should we be held at gunpoint, how much we were willing to give before going down with the ship (i.e the truck and bikes) and whether or not I had theft insurance on the bikes. The situation came to a climax when a white truck rolled up to the storage unit place we had been told to meet at and a man got out. He was more of a kid, really. At 19, Henry runs his own antique furniture business in Alabama and was genuinely looking for a pair of people to help him move and reorganize the pieces he had collected up in Michigan. It turns out we had been the only people to answer his add as a pair ( I had pushed Jeffrey about this- he wanted to answer for just himself the scoundrel!) and we worked for two hours, getting everything cleaned and reorganized back in his storage unit. Good on his word, Henry gave us our payment and said to let us know if we decide to come back through Alabama on the way back east. You can check out his website at magiccityfinds.com

We headed back to Brendan’s apartment in no rush, and stopped at AAA to grab some maps of the local area and for the rest of the trip. The receptionist gave us tips about the local nightlife and I took a few maps. Later on, while looking at the maps I noticed a $5.95 price tag on each one... hopefully they’re free for members! Our next stop was home depot to get a spare trailer lock key made and for some scrap wood to use as a shim for the trailer spare holder. The spare was originally under the tongue of the trailer, but all the bumpy roads have been taking a toll on it with small clearance. The wood was easy; Ben helped me out by cutting up a few pieces of spare 2x6′s but the key line was long so we opted for a locksmith after getting groceries. Michael at the grocery store reminded me of Father’s day, so happy Father’s day Dad! Without you there’s no way we would be on the road doing this trip.

The locksmith was very nice, and after looking at our key and lock for a minute or so and informing us that it was a cheap import and there was no way he could make a key he gave us a free inexpensive padlock. We chatted about motocross for a few minutes and he gave a few tips about local areas to check out before we headed on our way back to Brendan’s.

At Brendan’s we both enjoyed long hot showers and I had a frosty beverage. Michigan is the first place there seems to be dry apple cider available in stores and it is infinitely more enjoyable than the fake sweetness of standard Angry Orchard and the like. The early morning work had us both pretty sleepy, and it was time to nap for an hour or so.

There had been limited parking the night before, so we’d pushed a concrete parking barrier out of the way and did a bit of sketchy parking halfway under a carport and half in a patch of grass. We were notified quite effectively by way of a large neon green sticker on my windshield that our parking job was not in fact acceptable, and that my truck would be towed the following day at noon if not moved.

As I was scraping the stubborn remnants of sticker stickiness off of the windshield a maintenance worker from Brendan’s apartment complex profusely apologized for having to put it there and very nicely told us where we could park to avoid any issues.

Brendan rolled back into town around 4PM and the three of us decided to have nachos and head to the lake for the evening sunset. Jeffrey semi-pressured us into swimming in the lake, which turned out to be very fun. It was about 2 feet deep for as far out as I dared to go, and we would have kept going if our stuff wasn’t sitting by it’s own on the shore.

We took the long way home and hung out with a few of Brendan’s coworkers before turning in for the night in the truck.

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ferryboatpeak · 7 years ago

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more parent trap narry

(last installment here, with links to all earlier content)

As they troop out of Raccoon Cabin, Clare sees Harry on his tiptoes, stretching to catch a paper streamer in the lowest branches of the maple tree. There’s a small mound of the stuff on the ground next to him. He’s been cleaning up already.

“Adam, go help with the tree, you’re the tallest,” she says. “I’ll start on the porch. Mitch, can you grab the bin from inside?”

“Sure,” Mitch says, turning toward the steps.

“Probably wipe the door handle off first,” Clare adds quickly.

While they strip the toilet roll down from the roof, they can hear raucous laughter from Raccoon Cabin. The guitar seems to come out even quicker than usual, and soon Clare recognizes the chorus to Slow Hands.

“That’s funny,” she comments to Alex. “We haven’t heard them do one of Niall’s tunes before.”

“Is he here?” Alex asks. He shinnies up one of the porch supports and starts to claw down the last bits of paper from the edge of the roof.

Clare catches the scraps drifting down to her. “We would have seen him come in, wouldn’t we?”

“Yeah, must be getting here late.”

Harry approaches with an armful of paper. “So that’s Niall’s band next door?” he asks. Clare can’t tell if the casualness of the question is feigned.

“Yeah,” Sarah says flatly, coming around the corner of the cabin with a broom.

“What are they like?” Harry’s bent over the bin, stuffing toilet roll inside, not meeting their eyes.

“Loud drunk Irishmen,” Adam says, on his tiptoes reaching for a scrap of paper still dangling from the tree.

“I don’t think Querelle’s Irish,” Clare points out. Or is he? Suddenly she can’t remember ever having heard Querelle’s accent.

“If he wasn’t before, he might as well be now,” Sarah says. She’s got her foot in the bin, stomping down the pile of paper threatening to overflow.

“Have they been a problem?” Now Clare can tell Harry’s being too casual.

She doesn’t want Harry to think she’s a complainer. “They’re fine,” Clare says carefully. “They just… keep different hours than us.”

Sarah has no such reservations. “They sing until two in the morning. And they’re always so bloody happy about every little thing. Like, it was meatloaf night in the dining hall last week and Jake practically wrote a song about it. They’re driving us crazy.”

“They do seem to… enjoy camp, a lot” Clare adds, politely. The band’s enthusiasm really is kind of charming, when it’s not 2:00 a.m. They keep volunteering to lead the morning flagpole ceremony, with results that -- if not exactly reverent -- are always amusing.

Harry raises his eyebrows and blows out a breath. “Sounds exhausting.”

Clare decides to seize the moment. “They were saying that Niall’s going to be here this weekend,” she says, watching Harry closely for a reaction.

The corners of his eyes tighten the tiniest bit. It’s enough for Sarah to pounce.

“What’s up with you two?”

“I think all of us are enjoying exploring our own paths right now,” Harry says, relaxing into the answer with the ease of long practice.

Sarah’s eyes sharpen. Clare can tell she smells blood. “That wasn’t a band question, Harry, that was a Niall question. What’s going on?”

“It’s fine,” Harry says. He’s biting the inside of his cheek. “It’s just been a while since we’ve talked. We were in a band together, now we’re not. We could all use a little space.”

“Clare could walk out of this band tomorrow and I’d still speak to her,” Sarah insists. “What happened?”

Harry's silent, looking pained. Clare realizes that Adam and Alex and Mitch have all drawn in closer. The five of them are standing shoulder to shoulder, gathered around where Harry’s leaning against a porch support.

Harry straightens up. “Toilets probably aren't in there, are they?” he asks abruptly, gesturing at the cabin door. “Can someone point me in the right direction?”

“Down the path that way, then left,” Adam says. “Watch out for the stall on the end, lock’s busted.”

“You didn't answer the question,” Sarah calls after Harry as he scuttles down the path.

“You can say, ‘He went for a wee, and never came back,’” Harry calls over his shoulder, disappearing into the trees.

Clare looks around at the rest of the band. Mitch looks suspicious. Adam looks pensive. Alex looks indifferent.

Sarah looks calculating. “Look, we’ve got to figure out what’s going on here.”

“You’ve known Harry the longest.” Clare turns to Adam. “Do you have any idea what happened with him and Niall?”

Adam shrugs. “Don’t know a thing. Lou might.”

“Well, it’s not like we can call her,” Sarah paces along the edge of the porch. “I lost reception when we were still an hour away from this hellhole.”

“Hey, maybe there’s wifi somewhere,” Alex pipes up. “Camp director’s office, maybe? We could try to skype her, or email?”

“Yeah, that’s worth a shot,” Sarah says. She stops pacing and balances with her heels hanging over the edge of the porch, bouncing on her toes. “How can we do it without Harry noticing?”

“We’ll sneak out during campfire tonight,” Clare suggests. The possibility of answers, and a few minutes of internet, beats s’mores. “Alex, if the door’s locked, could you get us in?”

Alex holds up his pocketknife. “No problem.”

“Count me out,” Mitch says. “I’m spending campfire with Harry.”

“Good, you can distract him.” Sarah’s back to pacing. “Adam, you want to stay with them? You’re pretty distracting.”

Adam groans. “Do I have to be Mitch and Harry’s third wheel?

“Take one for the team, Ad Blocker,” Sarah orders. “We’ll be quick.”

“Clare, stay with us?” Adam looks at her beseechingly.

“I think I should go with,” Clare says, thinking quickly for some justification. “If we can’t reach Lou, we can at least google, and we’ll cover more ground with three people searching.”

“Fine.” Adam sighs. “But you three owe me.”

Sarah swings herself around the support at the end of the porch, peering around the corner of the cabin down the path to the toilets. “He’s coming,” she hisses back at the band. “Look busy.”

***

Clare sees Niall on the other side of the campfire that night. She tries to get closer, as if mere proximity will provide some insight. But he’s surrounded by his band at all times. Somehow they always manage to be on the opposite side of the fire from Clare and her bandmates and Harry.

When the sun has set and Harry’s occupied with toasting a marshmallow for Mitch, Sarah elbows her. “Let’s do this.”

Clare raises her eyebrows at Alex, who nods. The three of them filter through the crowd around the campfire and prop their marshmallow sticks against a tree at the edge of the woods. As Clare strolls casually along the treeline toward the path to the camp office, the weight of her phone in her back pocket feels strange after two weeks with no connectivity.

Once they’re out of sight of the campfire, they break into a run.

The office is dark. They stop outside the door and turn their phones on. Clare’s old phone comes to life the slowest. “Is there a signal?” she asks.

“Just barely,” Alex says. “I can’t load anything. The network’s called ‘bandcamp,’ though, so it must be right.”

“Can we get in?”

Alex pockets his phone and pulls out his knife, flipping open a slim tool. He probes several angles around the lock before asking, “Do either of you have a bobby pin?”

“Got it.” Clare plucks a pin from her topknot and Alex has the heavy door creaking open a moment later.

The moose head on the wall in the director’s office casts a creepy shadow in the moonlight from the window. By silent agreement, none of them go for the light switch. Clare opens her phone and searches for the wifi network, grateful to find it open and unsecured. She connects, and impatiently watches notifications scroll rapidly down the screen. Alex and Sarah’s phones are doing the same thing, alert tones clashing with each other as they all wait out two weeks of missed calls and unanswered texts and Instagram notifications.

“OK, I’m facetiming Lou,” Clare finally announces. “Sarah, you try Skype.”

Lou doesn’t pick up for either of them. Clare leaves a pleading voice message instead. “Lou, it’s Clare, and Sarah and Alex, at band camp. We don’t have wifi for long so if you could facetime us as soon as possible, we’d really, really appreciate it. Thanks!”

When she hangs up, Sarah and Alex are already deep into googling. “What should I search?” Clare asks.

“Start with just Harry and Niall.” Sarah stabs at her screen with an index finger. “There’s plenty there.”

Clare complies. “Oooh, look how cute they were!” Clicking on the image search results serves her well. It’s hard to believe that the Harry she knows, king of the world in his silk dragon suits, was a tragic teenager in high-tops and a puffer vest. “Look at those baby faces!” she croons.

She scrolls down, and down, and down, over image after image of Harry and Niall. Arms around each other, chins on each other’s shoulders, whispering into each other’s ears...

Next to her, Sarah and Alex are seeing the same thing. “God, look at the way Niall looks at him,” Sarah says.

“So Niall was clearly in love with him,” Alex says. “What’s the big deal? Everyone in the world’s in love with Harry. That wouldn’t mess Harry up.”

“No, no, look at this gif, he looks like he literally wants to eat Niall.” Sarah tips her phone toward Alex.

“I don’t know.” Alex sounds skeptical. “It’s not that different from how he looks at Mitch.”

“Oh, look at this one, Niall’s kissing him!” Clare exclaims. It looks unexpected. There’s... mistletoe, maybe? Harry’s expression is completely delighted. She leans in toward Sarah so they can both see. “Oh, there’s another one, Harry’s kissing him. See, on the shoulder there.”

“So it was mutual,” Sarah says, amazed.

Just then, Clare’s phone vibrates in her hands and facetime opens. “It’s Lou, it’s Lou!” Alex crowds in on her other side and Clare picks up the call while stretching the phone out in front of her to get all three of them in the frame. “Hi, Lou! Thanks for calling.”

Lou’s clearly just woken up. She’s in an old t-shirt and Clare is envious of her perfect bedhead. “Are you guys still at band camp?”

“Ugh, yes,” Sarah groans.

Clare cuts her off; no need to waste time ranting about the indignities of camp. “Hey, Lou, Niall’s here.”

“Is he?” She sounds pleased. “Tell him I said hello. And that he’s the best-looking one.”

“Sure, if we talk to him,” Clare says. She cuts to the chase. “”We’re trying to figure out what happened with him and Harry, do you know anything?”

“What do you mean?” Lou scrubs a hand through her hair, which continues to look perfectly tousled.

“They aren’t speaking to each other, I don’t think.”

“Still?” Lou looks surprised.

“Still?” Clare asks. “How long has this been going on?”

Lou yawns. “They broke up, what, almost two years ago?”

“So they were together!” Clare’s delighted that the pictures weren’t wrong. “Why did they break up?”

“They were young.” Lou waves a hand. “Beyond that, I don’t really know. Harry never really talked to me about it, but I always sort of thought -- “

A key scrapes in the lock. Clare jumps guiltily and shoves her phone into her back pocket. Alex and Sarah do the same. She scans the room for a hiding place, but there’s no time. The three of them are still standing in the middle of the room, caught, when the director flips on the light.

The director holds out her hand, palm up. “Phones, please.”

“What do you mean?” Alex plays dumb.

She rolls her eyes. “I know you’re in here chasing wifi. Come on, give me your phones.”

“None of us have phones,” Sarah lies sweetly.

Right then, Lou’s voice projects loud and clear from Clare’s pocket. “Clare? You guys still there? You went dark just now.”

The camp director raises her eyebrows at Clare and wiggles the fingers of her still-outstretched hand.

Clare fishes her phone out reluctantly. “Bye, Lou, thanks,” she calls as she disconnects the call and deposits it in the camp director’s hand.

“You too.” The director looks at Alex, then at Sarah.

“Fine,” Sarah says through gritted teeth, relinquishing her phone. Alex follows suit.

“You’ll get these back at the end of camp,” the director says. “Now get on back to the campfire.”

The three of them exchange guilty looks as they hustle out the door and back down the path. “Goddammit,” Sarah swears. “We barely learned anything, and we lost our phones to boot.”

“Sarah, we learned everything,” Clare objects. “They were in love.” She thinks back on the photos, years and years of Harry and Niall by each other’s sides, draped over each other’s backs.

“So now we know,” Alex says. “What difference does it make?”

Clare doesn’t really have an answer, but it has to make a difference. It has to mean something. “Can’t we do anything about it? If they just talked…” Clare trails off as they blend back into the crowd around the campfire, not knowing what they can do, but certain, somehow, that they have to do something.

#narry #parent trap au #clare uchima #sarah jones #alex salibian #ad blocker #hitch #the potatoes #louis querelle #i stg capture the flag is coming next #i know i've said that a few times #but this really was the last necessary bit of exposition #there's enough of this now that i should upload to ao3 #gladly accepting suggestions for a title #fic

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seriouslyhooked · 8 years ago

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Steal My Girl (The CS Mixtape) Part 149/?

Series of CS oneshots inspired by music. Collection on FF Here.

A/N: Reader requested drabble featuring a jealous Killian. I never turn down the chance to write a little of that, and this time I’m making it an AU scene where Emma and Killian are celebrating their anniversary. They’ve been together ten years and they’re meeting at a bar (recreating the first night they met if you will), but when Killian gets there, there’s another guy hitting on his wife. You can all probably guess what happens from there. Coupled with the song ‘Steal My Girl’ by One Direction.

Walking into the sleek yet inviting Boston Grand Hotel that lay at the heart of the city after a long day at work, Killian Jones had to admit that he was restless. All day he’d been waiting for this moment, and finally, mercifully it was here. He was at last where he most wanted to be, about to be reunited with the best part of his whole world.

Ten years married today, that was what he and Emma had achieved. It was, to many people, a real accomplishment, and when he mentioned it to his peers at work or friends who hadn’t known him before he met Emma, they were always awed by the continued ties that remained between Killian and his wife. But Killian wasn’t at all surprised. Since the moment they’d met, Killian knew there was only one woman in the world for him and he was just the lucky bastard that managed to get his ring on her finger and live his life at her side.

In ten years they’d taken a young, fresh love and grown it into so much more. Not every day was easy, and of course hard times came for them just as they did in the lives of everyone else, but the magic of Emma and Killian’s relationship was their constant faith in each other. In times of struggle they didn’t run or evade, they leaned on the other and battled the storms until bright days came once more. And because of that, the good moments so vastly outnumbered the bad. They chose happiness each and every day, and they fought for the good for both themselves and for the family they cherished so dearly.

“Good evening, sir. Can I help you with something?” The hostess at the front of the hotel bar asked politely and Killian shook his head, only offering her the briefest look. He hadn’t any need or desire to interact with anyone aside from Emma, but then he thought the better of his flat out refusal. Maybe this woman could get him to Emma sooner, and that would be a great help indeed.

“I’m meeting someone, actually. My wife, Emma Jones, is she here yet?”

Damn it felt good to say his last name as hers. Even if it had been a decade since she was legally Emma Swan, Killian loved that they were bound together in every way. It meant more than he could say that he was the person Emma had chosen, and that after years of a life where she hadn’t any one or any place to call her own, that she’d found home and connection with him.

“Oh she’s here alright, and I think you’ll be very glad to see her.”

I always am, Killian thought to himself as he grinned, unable to contain his joy that the wait was nearly over. Then he took his leave and returned to his vigilant search for Emma once more.

It took a minute for Killian to get oriented to the crowd here tonight, but soon enough he spotted the object of his affection. There, across the bar and bathed in warm yellow light was a vision in red – the single most beautiful woman Killian had ever seen – and the one he had the right to call his own. His Emma was effortless in how stunning she was, commanding attention from every corner of the room without any sort of care or mind. Instead of flaunting her desirability, she sat there without expectation or pretense, perched on a bar stool with her fingertip drawing easy lines atop her glass. God she was gorgeous, and tonight (and every night) she was all his.

Killian made no attempt as he moved through the crowd of people to shield his gaze from the picture Emma made for. He took in the cascading curls of her shining blonde hair and the slight upturn of her lips in a good-natured smile. His eyes lingered over the sensual curve of her body, and Killian’s hands itched to hold her and then strip away that damned enticing garment she called a dress. It was a scrap of material, nothing more, but bloody hell if it didn’t fit her stunning figure to perfection. Not that the outfit made much difference – whatever Emma wore, Killian was always attuned to her and her alone, and ten years had done nothing to dilute his desire for her in any way.

As if the woman who owned him body and soul could sense his silent appraisal, Emma chose that moment to look his way, and in the instant that their gazes met, Killian saw the promise of everything he wanted from this life and everything Emma had already granted him. She was the key to everything he’d ever dreamed possible and so much more. She was his partner, his lover, his wife, the mother of his children, and to top it all off she was the most beautiful, stubborn, undeniably brilliant person he’d ever met.

It was because of Emma that they were here tonight. When he’d asked her what she wanted to do for their anniversary this year she’d been specific in her desire for three things: She wanted to go back to the place where it all began (thus their meeting tonight after work in the hotel bar where they’d first met), to have dinner at her favorite restaurant, and then to spend all night just the two of them. That last part was the trickier of the three (seeing as they had three little ones at home to be cared for), but thanks to some full on bribery, Killian had managed to convince his brother Liam to take them on, granting Killian and Emma one night away. Any more and the two of them would both miss the life they’d created for themselves too much, but as it was tonight would be damn near perfect, a series of stolen moments that Killian had been waiting for a very long time.

The need that clung to Killian as he moved across the room was growing exponentially, and when that sweet smile of Emma’s turned playful and flirtatious, he felt he had to get to her and close this distance of space between them. His wife was simply too great a temptation, and Killian would not rest easy until he had her in his arms and away from the watchful eyes that surrounded them in this public space. But then interruption came from an unexpected place: another man approached Emma and tore her attention from him.

“That’s not bloody happening,” Killian muttered to himself angrily as he moved faster to get to his Swan. She was attempting to let the man down with a cool sense of indifference, but whether the interloper was drunk, delusional or both he wasn’t taking Emma’s signals. Instead he decided to push his luck and make a physical move on a woman who clearly did not want any part of it.

Before the slime ball could lay a hand on Emma, Killian grabbed the man’s wrist and didn’t bother to hide the hostility that wracked his body. He was furious, seeing red in a way that spoke only of danger for this piece of shit who wanted to make a move on his wife, and the tone of Killian’s voice when he finally found the words was a mix of ice and venom.

“If you want to keep that hand, mate, you’re going to stay the hell away from my wife.”

“Wife?” The guy asked, looking at Emma accusingly, as if she were the one at fault here. “I didn’t see no ring.”

He wants a ring? He’ll damned well feel mine when I punch his face in! Yet before Killian could do something drastic like drag the sorry excuse for a man outside, Emma’s hand came to Killian’s chest, pulling him back from his anger and calming him instantly.

“That’s because you didn’t look,” Emma said in a feigned sense of sweetness as she showed her left hand. There, sitting in their usual place were her engagement ring and wedding band. The sight of them alone helped Killian feel better, and he hummed out a sense of approval.

Take that jack ass – she’s taken, and she’ll never want another as long as I live, Killian thought to himself as he pulled Emma closer, the need to stake his claim still strong despite Emma’s deescalating the situation. Without any hesitations, Emma melted into his embrace, smirking up at him as she not so subtly dismissed the intruder.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Emma said, her eyes never straying from Killian’s and the man behind them mumbled something incoherent before scurrying off with his tail between his legs. Killian, meanwhile, was focused solely on Emma, surrounding himself in her presence in the best way he could. Seconds ago he’d been infuriated, but the longer he spent in her direct company, the saner her became. It was startling just how much control over him this woman had, but Killian wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’m sorry, love,” Killian said and Emma tilted her head, seemingly confused. “Not for setting that miscreant straight, but for getting our evening off to a less than smooth sail.”

Now Emma smiled in full, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to his lips and taunting him with just the smallest taste of rum and the sweetness only Emma could bring. He was desperate to follow her lips and claim them in something more defined and unbridled, but he wanted to be sure she was okay after everything first.

“Can I tell you something?” Emma asked and Killian nodded, informing her that anything she had to share he wanted to hear. “I kind of liked it.”

“You did?” Killian asked, surprised for the briefest moment before heat ran through his veins and understanding dawned on him. Emma appreciated that display of protectiveness and possession. Good to know.

“Mhmm. It’s pretty hot to watch your husband go all caveman over you. Ten years and you’ve still got a thing for me,” Emma teased as her fingers came to toy with his tie and trace down to the suit vest he was wearing.

“It’s more than a mere thing, love, as you well know,” Killian ground out, making Emma laugh with his gruffness. He wasn’t at all angry with her, but damn if she wasn’t tempting him into a frenzy. They were supposed to be sharing a drink and then heading to dinner, but much more of this kind of attention and Killian would call the whole night off and drag Emma up to the suite they had this evening and remind her just how much more remained between them.

“I know, I know. You love me and I love you and we’re that totally cheesy couple they put on the ads for true love and happily ever afters,” Emma quipped, making Killian smile too as his hand came to cup her cheek and his thumb ran across the corner of her smile. “It’s just kind of funny that you seem to think I’m going anywhere when you’re the only one I want.”

Hearing that easy profession of Emma’s enduring love shouldn’t have packed the punch that it did since he was fortunate enough to hear such assurances all the time, but Killian couldn’t help it. After all this time is still felt like the greatest gift to know that Emma was just as deeply in this as he was, and that as happy as he was, she felt just as whole and completely and excited for all that they had together.

“I’ve never once doubted your intentions, my love. You are everything that is good and kind and honorable,” Killian whispered, making Emma’s eyes soften and her body move ever so much closer to his. “But I think a good many people would like the chance to steal my girl, and when such opponents present themselves, I will always remind them that you’re already spoken for.”

“You’re a regular knight in shining armor,” Emma mused, the mirth in her tone returning as Killian shook his head.

“I’ll be whatever you want, Emma. Just say the word and it’s yours.”

“So if I said that we should skip dinner and go upstairs right now…?” Emma trailed off, purposefully licking her lips and causing Killian to groan aloud again.

“I’d be completely beholden to your every desire. And I’d note that room service never sounded so bloody good.”

And with his wife’s laughter playing at his ears and her assurance that this was in fact the course that she wanted, Killian swept his Emma away to an evening filled with love and lust and the distinct source of happy that was unique to them and to the magic they’d found together.

………………

She been my queen Since we were sixteen We want the same things We dream the same dreams Alright (alright)

I got it all 'Cause she is the one Her mum calls me 'love' Her dad calls me 'son' Alright (alright)

I know, I know, I know for sure

Everybody wanna steal my girl Everybody wanna take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one 'cause she belongs to me

Na na na na na na (oh, yeah) Na na na na na na (alright) Na na na na na na Na na

She belongs to me

Kisses like cream, Her walk is so mean And every jaw drop When she's in those jeans Alright (alright)

I don't exist If I don't have her The sun doesn't shine The world doesn't turn Alright (alright)

But I know, I know, I know for sure

Everybody wanna steal my girl Everybody wanna take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one 'cause she belongs to me

Na na na na na na (oh, yeah) Na na na na na na (alright) Na na na na na na Na na na na na na

She knows, she knows That I've never let her down before She knows, she knows That I'm never gonna let another take her love from me now

Everybody wanna steal my girl Everybody wanna take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one 'cause she belongs to me

Na na na na na na (oh, yeah, alright, yeah) Na na na na na na (alright) Na na na na na na Na na

She belongs to me

Na na na na na na (oh, yeah) (She belongs to me, yeah) Na na na na na na (alright) Na na na na na na

She belongs to me

Post-Note: So I know this was a short chapter, but I think it still packed that same sense of CS fluff I usually go for. Thank you so much to the reader who requested this song. I know it was a long time ago, but I never forgot, and today finally felt like the day to sit down and write it. Also thank you to all of you for reading, and I hope you have a great rest of your day!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31, Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38, Part 39, Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45, Part 46, Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53, Part 54, Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60, Part 61, Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68, Part 69, Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75, Part 76, Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83, Part 84, Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90, Part 91, Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98, Part 99, Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103, Part 104, Part 105, Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112, Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118, Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125, Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132, Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138, Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145, Part 146, Part 147, Part 148

#captain swan #captain swan au #cs fic #cs ff #cs au #cs oneshot #cs fluff #emma swan #killian jones #captain swan mixtape #cs mixtape #the captain swan mixtape #ouat au #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #steal my girl #prompted fic

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