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kitten4sannie · 9 months ago

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ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴠᴇɴᴏᴍ

ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴘʟᴀʏ/ꜰʟᴏɢɢɪɴɢ ➠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ/ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ

pairing: enemy emperor! yunho x empress! reader x scribe! yeosang

genre: historical au, smut

summary: you have another tension filled meeting with the stubborn man that wants nothing more than to conquer and own you. your new dedicated scribe records everything.

w.c: 4k

warnings: hard dom! yunho, bratty pillow princess! reader, bricked up witness! yeosang, monster cock alerttt, cnc, light mxm, exhibitionism/voyeurism, name calling/pet names, degradation, dirty talk (this man…he’s so nasty in this i’m not even sorry…), lots of manhandling, spanking/flogging, dacryphilia, half dressed kink idk, spit, hair grabbing, threesome elements, some cucky vibes, a little dash of praise, rough wall sex, creampie, yeosang licks everything up… AHEM, oral (receiving), fingering, cum eating, squirting

a/n: i was extremely high when i wrote this and i am down bad astronomically for yuyu and yeosang so yeah something religious happened to me during the writing process !! i mostly blame it on jackson wang bc that song is sooooo…. rfhhehwh it turns me into a rabid animal ngl anywaysss i hope you enjoy lovelies xx

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ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ ʙʏ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ ᴡᴀɴɢ

0:01 ❍─────── 4:28

Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

As the empress of your country’s land, it’s always been up to you to partake in the anointed trivialities that required your royal attention. Aside from drawn out, traditional ceremonies to endless horse riding and archery lessons with a seasoned member of the congregation, you spent most of your time having meetings with your supposed suitors, having to listen to their boundless, self-important monologues about their days in battle, coming to know just how much knowledge they held in combat and war strategies, and fighting the urge to pull your hand away when they would hold onto it, pleading you with their eyes for your approval. It all bored you to tears.

Though, there was a particular individual that you couldn’t seem to keep your mind off of, no matter how hard you tried. Jeong Yunho, an emperor from the land that bordered yours. A man from a bloodline that your family had gone to war with many times over the years. Despite that you were quite literally sleeping with the enemy, you couldn’t help yourself. You had never met anyone like him before. Instead of asking and pleading for your attention, time, and body, he simply took it. Took what he wanted from you without a care in the world. He wasn’t even bothered by that fact that your dear scribe still sat in the meeting room with you, hazily scribbling down everything that occurred and what was said, spilling bottles of ink onto his scrolls due to how flustered he was from witnessing the way Yunho forcefully conquered his dear empress with a domineering smirk plastered on his sweaty face, the panting emperor’s cock routinely disappearing underneath your disheveled ceremony garments and into your willing cunt.

“Your Highness, Lord Jeong should be here any second now,” your fresh-faced scribe began from across the meeting room, setting up various sized brushes in a line, smoothing out a few creases he found embedded in the elongated sleeves of his ceremony robe. He suddenly looked up at you, concern present within his widened honey brown eyes. “Should I make more tea?”

“That won’t be necessary, Yeosang, but your intention is very sweet, thank you,” you replied softly, making your way across the room in your heavy garbs, taking the time to run your fingers through your newest scribe’s hair, offering him a smile that made him drop one of his brushes. “Lord Jeong doesn’t drink much tea. He…prefers to get straight to business.”

Yeosang’s smile dropped slightly when your hand left his hair, his eyes traveling your form as you sat on your knees in front of the meeting table, watching you take a sip from your steaming celadon cup and nod your head in approval of the flavor. “Have you considered his marriage requests? I’ve read some of the letters he’s sent to you…” The young scribe blushed suddenly, his eyes lowering to look at the blank spaces on his scrolls. “They’re quite intense. Does that sort of thing interest you?”

You rested your chin inside the palm of your hand, your gold bracelets dangling from your wrist, squinting your eyes at Yeosang, your lips curling up ever so slightly. “It does, very much so. Lord Jeong is one of the most interesting men I’ve come across thus far…I’ve greatly considered his offers, despite him being the enemy.”

Yeosang tilted his head, a few locks of his hair falling into his focused eyes. “If I may ask, your Highness…What’s stopping you from accepting?”

You ran your finger around the rim of your celadon cup, looking at your reflection within the black tea, your smile fading. “I don’t want the excitement to end, Yeosang.” You looked back up at him, unable to keep yourself from smiling gently at his confused expression. “Marriage, as beautiful as it is, brings monotony, which brings contempt…”

“Ahh, I see now,” Yeosang nodded slowly, giving you a sad smile back, feeling like he understood his empress a bit more in that moment. He squeezed his fingers around the intricately carved wooden brush inside his grasp. “Your Highness, may I ask you a question?”

Just as you were about to respond, the large, jewel-encrusted doors of your meeting room opened with a groan. A tall, handsome man dressed in an extravagant, hand-sewn traditional robe came strolling in like he owned the place, holding an expensive mahogany box within his large hands.

“Oh, princess, I’ve brought you a present,” Yunho called out teasingly, walking up to the table. He acknowledged Yeosang’s presence with a nod, who bent over to bow. The confident emperor sat down across from you at the table, his eyes hooded, his lips quirked up perversely as if he was reminiscing about your previous meetings. “Hi. Did you miss me?”

You rolled your eyes, pretending as if you didn’t care about the emperor’s arrival, despite your heart and core throbbing rhythmically from him simply sitting there across from you. “What did you bring me, Yunho?”

“Something that’ll have your little scribe here pulling at his robes when I’m done using it on you…Maybe he’ll even spill his ink all over himself like your last one…” Yunho’s eyes shifted from Yeosang, who gulped, to you, who simply sipped on your tea, his long fingers rubbing along the smooth edges of the mahogany box.

You tilted your head to the side, idly biting at the tip of your manicured nail. “Is that so? Well, get on with it. I’m a busy woman, as you know, and I don’t like when my time is being wasted with nonsense.”

Yunho simply scoffed, shaking his head slightly, sitting there silently for a moment, the only sound in the room being Yeosang’s wet brush expertly sliding across the scroll and your nails tapping against your tea cup.

All you registered was the sight of Yunho swiftly getting up onto his feet and heading in your direction, his feet thumping against the mat below. Before you even realized what was happening, you were laying face down on the table, watching your tea pool out onto the sleek wood, your intricately crafted tea cup now split in individual pieces. Yunho had you held down by the neck, his fingers closing around it, his warm body pressing against yours, able to feel his stiff cock against your ass, even through your thick robes.

He chuckled at the gasp you let out, bringing his lips near your ear to purr huskily, “Am I still wasting your time, princess? Or is getting your little cunt all nice and wet for me something worthwhile?” Instead of letting you answer, Yunho simply reached past you, flipping the boxe’s lid open, bringing it closer for you to take a good look at its contents. Inside the box sat a hand-woven flog, the edges of it decorated with a silver finishing, making it glisten in the light. “Do you like your present? I got it made just for you.” He rubbed his cock along your ass, his free hand roaming over your upper thigh to the curve of your ass. “Can’t you see? I’m in love with you…”

“Oh, please.” As you tried to get up, Yunho pushed his body weight down onto you, holding your wrists down with ease. “Do you really think I’m going to let you use your little toy on me in front of my innocent scribe, Yunho? Who do you think you are?”

“I’m simply a man who’s head over heels for you, Y/N��Take some responsibility…” Yunho quickly reached past your neck and down to your chest to rip open your garments, tugging on them while you continued to resist until your bare body was revealed underneath the many layers.

Yeosang dipped his brush inside the bottle of ink with a shaky hand, his cheeks flushed, unsure if he should speak up, his eyes fixated on you, never having seen you in such an indecent state before. “Sh-should…I keep going, your Highness?”

When Yunho forcefully bent you over his knee and pulled your disheveled robe up to reveal your ass, his large hands squeezing into it, you nodded your head weakly at Yeosang, feeling a bit dizzy from being treated in such a way with your lovely dedicated scribe watching on. “Please, don’t let us stop you from doing your job, Yeosang…you’re doing so well…”

“Thank you, Your Highness…” Yeosang blushed from the praise, dipping his brush back into the ink, before pressing it to the scroll, thankful that his garments were thick enough to cover his stiffening length.

You weren’t able to reply to Yeosang when Yunho abruptly slammed his open palm against the curve of your ass, a moan leaving your lips instead of words. He smacked the other side of your ass to watch it bounce and groped along it, squeezing your sensitive flesh between his slender fingers. “That’s it…just look at that color…Wish you could see it, princess. Shall I add some pretty shades of purple and pink too? You’re my canvas, Y/N…I’m sure you’ll let me paint you with my cum next, right? Just like every time, yeah?”

“Fuck off, Yunho,” you grumbled, attempting to climb out of his lap, throbbing at the feeling of him grabbing you by the waist and holding you still, knowing you couldn’t get away even if you tried.

“You weren’t saying that last time, princess. You were begging me for more…” Yunho picked up the flog, running his fingers along the woven leather, before he cracked it in the air, making Yeosang and you jolt from the sudden loud noise, bringing joy to the emperor. “Take a deep breath for me, Y/N…”

Just as you did so, Yunho brought the flog down onto your ass, watching the individual leather straps leave pretty red marks on your skin, groaning, “So pretty… you’re so pretty for me, princess…” and repeating the motion, lacking the proper self control to stop himself, even when you began to cry, his arm wrapped tightly around your middle.

“F-fuck…! Stop!” You kicked your legs and thrashed around until you were able to wiggle out of his grasp, just barely making it over to Yeosang’s large scribing table, before Yunho slammed you down onto it, knocking over one of the ink bottles with his rough handling of you.

“Crying just for me, princess? You’re making me so hard,” Yunho sighed into your ear, moving closer to your face to lick one of your tears away, his hot breath hitting your cheek, your ass stinging more when he grabbed it roughly, bolts of pleasure shooting into your core.

“You fucking asshole…” you choked out, about to pull yourself up when the emperor pinned your hands painfully behind your back, feeling his knee press in between your thighs.

Yunho tugged more of your garments off without a care in the world, huffing and as he shoved his hand in between your thighs from behind, rubbing two fingers along your clothed cunt, before tearing it off with ease. “Ahh, that’s what I thought…You’re so wet for me, Y/N.” He looked to Yeosang, who was blushing wildly, still just sitting there and haphazardly recording the chaos that was occurring right next to him, knowing it wasn’t his place to interact in any way unless either of you allowed him to. Yunho continued to rub at your cunt, enjoying the noises you and your gushing slit were making. “Hey, scribe, make sure you make a note about how fucking soaked your empress gets from getting manhandled by an enemy emperor. That’s an important detail, isn’t it, princess?”

You struggled underneath the man, starting to feel ink soaking into your expensive garments, some of it staining your cheek. “Yunho, get off of me, or so help me–” You suddenly found yourself gasping for air, having been flogged again, though this time some of the leather straps reached your cunt, feeling it sting pleasurably in between your trembling thighs.

Yunho looked over to Yeosang, who had his fingers clenched around his brush, his free hand in between his clenching thighs. “Hey, Yeosang, do you know why the previous scribe quit?” When he shook his head, Yunho grinned, admiring the pattern of bruises he left on your ass, running his fingers lightly over them. “He couldn’t handle watching his beloved empress cry and take what I so graciously gave her, but you can, can’t you, Yeosang?”

He bit his bottom lip, feeling conflicted, not sure if he should nod or not. He instead looked to you, his eyebrows knitted together with concern. “Your Highness…” Yeosang whispered softly, hesitantly placing one hand on top of yours, holding it tightly.

You looked up at him, smiling gently, blowing a bit of hair out of your hazy eyes, reaching your other hand over to rub the top of his knuckles. “It’s okay, Yeosang…I want this…”

Yunho grabbed you by the hair, forcefully lifting up your head so that he could get a good look at you, practically drooling at this point, his cock throbbing against your backside. “Say that again…Let me hear it…”

You turned your head to look at him, smiling sweetly, before you pursed your lips and sent a wad of spit onto his cheek, satisfied with the way it dripped down along his tightening jaw. “If you hurry up and fuck me instead of continuing on with this bullshit, I’ll think about it.”

Turned on beyond measure, Yunho grabbed your own jaw, forcing it open so that he could send a wad of spit straight down your throat, chuckling darkly at the moan that escaped your parted lips. “This is why you’re my favorite, princess. You’re such a bratty little thing, just aching to be put in your place, huh? You want me to do that? Fuck you into submission in front of your sweet little scribe? Just say the word….”

This time around, Yunho could see the desperation on your flushed face, your lips forming a pout. “Please…” you whined, surprising yourself and the two men watching you with your sudden act of obedience.

“Oh my god, that’s fucking it right there…” Yunho groaned, pulling at the sash wrapped securely around his slim waist and pulling it loose, so that he could gain access to his undergarments, quickly tugging his stiff, leaking cock out. “Do you draw portraits too, scribe? This slut’s pretty face should be kept in the history books…”

Yeosang nervously shook his head, starting to spread the ink across his scroll from watching the way Yunho pushed you up against the wall, so close to Yeosang that his garments spilled into his lap, forcefully wrapping your legs around his waist, just as he fully sheathed himself inside you, your soaked panties pushed to the side.

“No? That’s too bad…Well, at least jot down the fact that I conquer your Highness’s tight little cunt every time I give her a visit…” Yunho huffed out, smiling at you with his canines showing, his hands cemented tightly around your bare waist, bringing himself down to one of your tits to suck it into his open mouth.

“God, will you just–aaah–shut the fuck up and…nnngh…fuck me properly?” you asked in between pants, barely able to take the emperor’s thick, oversized cock without feeling like you were going to break, your nails digging into his straining upper back through his garments, one side of his robe starting to drape off one of his broad shoulders.

“Yeah? You want it rough just like every other time, don’t you, whore?” Yunho groaned against your skin, dragging his tongue up over your spit-laced tit to attack your neck with his lips and teeth, leaving your skin in various shades of red and purple. “Write this down too, scribe. The people should know that this pretty princess can’t cum unless she has a horsecock ramming into her cunt. Isn’t that right, Your Highness?”

You couldn’t even speak at this point, from the way Yunho lifted one leg up onto the scribe table, using the leverage to fuck into you as deep and hard as he could, about to cream yourself from the way he kept you pinned down, just using you like a doll made for his pleasure.

Now almost directly underneath his empress and the enemy emperor’s rapidly joining bodies, Yeosang couldn’t help but look up, fixated on the way your cunt spread open each time Yunho slammed himself inside your clenching hole, feeling a few drops of your mixed arousal drip down onto his face and roll down his warm cheek. He gingerly opened his mouth and held his tongue out, now pressing his brush directly into the soaked paper, leaning his back against the wall behind him, his hand beginning to rub at his pre-cum soaked cock that was still trapped underneath his heavy garments.

“God, you’re so fucking wet, princess…I think I might…slip out…” Yunho sighed heavily against your ear, roughly nibbling it with the aid of one of his canine teeth, slowly sliding his cock out of you and slapping his heavy cock against your abdomen, smearing his pre cum onto your skin.

The feeling of being completely empty just as you were about to cum almost sent you into a full-blown rage, practically ready to start another war with Yunho if he didn’t stick his cock back inside you. You abruptly grabbed him by the hair, clutching a tuft of his damp icy blond locks, leaning in so that your lips ghosted his. “Fuck me, you goddamn bastard. Make me cum.”

This time Yunho didn’t play any games, simply rubbing his cockhead back and forth over your throbbing clit just to make you shudder against him, before he slipped back inside, immediately pounding himself into you, essentially leaving you breathless. “Look at you just taking it, princess… I know it’s big…You’re doing so well for me…taking it so good, princess…I’m so proud…”

The sudden bout of praise coming from the enemy in such a sickly sweet tone, especially while he began to pump hot loads of cum into you, sent you barreling over the edge, not doing your dear scribe any favors when you began to babble nonsensically, tears beginning to fall from your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure taking over your body.

“Yeahhh, take it, princess…I’m gonna knock you up so you have to marry me.” Yunho chuckled darkly, his fingers squeezing into your hips, pressing a rough kiss to your lips, biting at your bottom lip before he pulled away.

“You’re disgusting,” you huffed, grimacing at him, despite the fact that your thighs were still trembling.

“Don’t say that, princess,” Yunho whined, leaning his forehead against yours, slowly pulling out inch by inch. “You know how hard that makes me…” He looked down to Yeosang, who was breathing heavily underneath the both of you, his mouth agape, splashes of arousal decorating his pretty, flushed face and damp hair. “Hey, scribe, you’ve been a good boy just sitting here and watching the whole time. You want a taste of your Highness’s used cunt?”

Feeling sufficiently dizzy, Yeosang looked to you for approval, feeling his cock pulse at your slow dazed nod, bringing his hands up to your thighs to caress them, bringing his lips up to kiss and lick at the wetness around your cunt with a gentleness that would’ve had you collapsing if your legs weren’t securely hooked over Yunho’s shoulders.

“Make sure you get it all…” Yunho murmured softly, completely pulling out of you with a wet, shlick sound, dribbles of his cum beginning to gush out of your gaping hole, allowing Yeosang to collect it inside his drooling mouth. Yunho brought a free hand to Yeosang’s head, holding him against your cunt, finding great joy in the desperate, sloppy manner in which he ate you out, like a delirious, thirsty man that had just found a hidden oasis.

It was when Yeosang slipped his slender fingers deep inside your pulsing cunt, his hot mouth closed around your sensitive clit, that you began to whine and whimper, one arm hooked around Yunho’s neck for support, your free hand going down to grab onto Yeosang’s hair when Yunho let go, gazing down to find him already looking up at you with half closed eyes.

“It’s so good, you’re so good for me, Yeosang, I’m going to…oh my god…”

Yeosang clutched one side of your bruised ass with one hand, curling three of his fingers inside you and rubbing them against your clenching walls, lapping at your clit, his thighs closing together, his cheeks bright red from the praise.

All the while, Yunho simply watched on, his chest swelling with pride, occasionally leaving kisses and licks on your straining, marked-up neck. “Cum for him, will you, princess? Won’t you soak his pretty face with your squirt?”

Having your lovely scribe in between your legs, eating your cunt like it was his assigned job to do so, having your sworn enemy pressing his heated, sweaty body against yours, more filthy words leaving his lips for your shared pleasure was all far too much. “Yeosang…!”

Yeosang found himself being covered in a warm spray of liquid, tasting your squirt on his tongue, closing his eyes for a moment to bask in the pleasure of it all, opening them back up just in time for you to pull him into your arms, your bare body against his half-dressed one. “Your Highness…”

“I didn’t mean to do such a dirty thing to you, Yeosang, I’m so sorry…” You used your sleeves to wipe some of the wetness away from his face, blushing more than you had during the whole night.

“Your Highness…” he repeated, softer this time, giving you a shy smile, pulling his robe apart until you could see what he had done to himself.

Your eyes widened at the milky stains of cum splattered across the insides of his ceremonial garments, looking back up into his eyes, returning his shy smile. “If I had known you had such an affinity for me, I wouldn’t have looked for suitors this long. Who needs them when I have you?”

Yeosang reached up to hold his heated cheeks, dumbfounded by the string of events, unable to believe that his beloved empress could feel such a way about him. “It’d be an honor to always be by your side…”

You giggled, reaching up to place a hand over his, your thumb brushing over his pretty birthmark.

Yunho cleared his throat, running his fingers through his sweaty hair, his robe already wrapped ornately around his body, looking like he did when he first entered the meeting room, besides the afterglow he was now sporting. “I’d love to stay here longer and experience this beautiful moment with you both, but my job here is done.” He patted both of your heads, as if he were a proud father, before heading taking a few elegant strides towards the door. Before he left, he turned back to look at you, his tongue poking into one of his canine teeth, giving you a shit-eating smirk. “Until next time, princess.”

“There isn’t going to be a next time,” you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes, your arms still around Yeosang, watching your smug enemy leave the room with a soft chuckle.

Yeosang chuckled softly, reaching up to run his fingers through your hair, feeling confident enough to share his thoughts with you. “Now, let’s not kid ourselves, Your Highness.”

“Heyyy,” you whined, giving him a pout, watching him pick up his drying brush up from the table. “Don’t you dare write that down.” When he motioned to dip his brush into the spilled ink, you hugged onto him from the side. “Yeosangggg, I’m still your empress!”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “By the way, what was that question you wanted to ask me?”

Yeosang gulped, studying the ink-stained table below for a second, before turning his head to look at you, your faces just centimeters away from one another. “Will you replace me one day, Your Highness?”

Your eyes widened slightly, taking in your scribe’s vulnerability, wanting to return the same energy to him, as he was deserving of it. “Never, Yeosang. You’re here to stay.”

Yeosang blushed fervently, dropping the brush back down to hug you into his arms, nuzzling your neck gently, his hair tickling your skin, about to melt inside his empress’s grasp. “Promise?”

You wrapped your arms tighter around him, pressing your lips to his cheek, waiting for him to look back into your eyes to whisper, “Promise.”

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pekotranslates · 3 years ago

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Traces of Two Pasts: Episode Tifa - pgs 40-52

Disclaimer: Also, I started this for fun so that my friends who don't have access can read it. I'm just another fan like you. With that said, I do try to be as faithful to the original source material as possible, and for those of you who can read Japanese, please support the author by buying his book.

Not everyone agreed with Chief Zonder's decision. The elderly—a major force in the village—began to make noise. They seemed to take a liking to Zangan's longevity exercises, and regretted not being able to memorize what was taught to them. They wanted someone to check if their poses were correct, and wished to learn the remaining exercises he was supposed to have taught them.

The village chief paid a visit at dinnertime.

"Hey, Tifa..." he said with a sullen expression. "Will you teach the old folks how to do Zangan's exercises properly?"

"Why Tifa?" her father asked. She just knew he would ask.

"Because Zangan named her. Told me that if we ever needed someone to mentor us, Tifa would be qualified. Said that she had the most controlled form* out of everyone who gathered there that day.

Kata, which means “form” in Japanese, is the term used to describe specific sequences of motion that are used to practice technique and execution in martial arts

It pleased her knowing that someone spoke of her like that when not in her presence, but it also caused her to be slightly embarrassed.

"Zonder, don't get my family involved."

"Aw, c'mon! I'm already in big trouble as it is. The old folks just won't let it go!"

"Hmph!" Brian Lockhart snorted. He enjoyed seeing the village chief squirm. She couldn't tell whether or not they actually got along with each other.

"Tifa, what do you think?"

"I'd just be teaching the elderly people those exercises, right? If that's all there is, then I'd like to try."

"Tifa..." her father began, but he swallowed back his complaint. He knew that it wasn't good for her to have too much time on her hands. "Well, if you're gonna do it, then do it right."

While preparing breakfast, Tifa heard a knock at the door, and opened to a woman’s face she barely recognized. It was an elderly woman called "Mon Amie" who was an aunt of sorts to Chief Zonder. Her hair was pulled back into a bun so tight that it looked like her eyes were being pulled straight up!

"Good morning to you. It's been a long time, Tifa. I heard that Zonder told you all about it. How about 2 gil per hour?"

"Sorry?" She had not heard about any renumeration.

"Well, you are thirteen now. Not a little girl anymore, so that doesn't cut it for you, eh? Alright then, how about 4 gil?"

"No, I don't want any money."

"That won't do. We are taking this very seriously, and you will be properly paid for your work."

No matter how much Zangan trusted her, would she really be up to the task? But, being able to earn her own money sounded very appealing, as if a whole new world had opened up to her.

Mon Amie took Tifa's silence as her wanting to bargain for higher wages.

"6 gil."

"Alright. 6 gil it is then."

"Brian never did leave the village. He wanted to keep Thea all to himself." Mon Amie suddenly brought up her parents during their exercise routine at the public square.

"Really?" said Tifa, adjusting Mon Amie's arm posture. She needed to get her to straighten her back and push out her chest a bit more for the desired result.

"She was quite the popular one, that child."

It wasn’t very pleasant hearing her mother being called "that child", yet Tifa encouraged her. Listening to the elderly tell old stories was a part of her job. The responsibility she felt from receiving wages tempered her patience.

"You should leave the village," said Mon Amie suddenly. "Doesn't it sound like fun going around to different places with Master Zangan?"

"It sure does."

"Alright, you don't have to play along with me. No need for you to learn things like that. Just think about it carefully, okay? Something needs to change for women here in Nibelheim."

Tifa silently nodded as she propped up Mon Amie's arm.

"There weren't any women around in my day who held this kind of thinking. But that Strife girl”—she was speaking of Cloud's mother—"tried to leave. Not sure if it's because she hated it here, or if she dreamed of going to the big city."

Mon Amie abruptly altered her pose, ruining her base form.

"To the traditional Nibelheim women, she seemed pretty unconventional. We all refused to accept her ways, but secretly felt the same. Even though we scolded her, deep down inside we were cheering her on. We even felt jealous of her for carving out her own path. Perhaps she changed something in us, little by little.”

Tifa lifted up Mon Amie's knee. "Up high like this. Thank you."

She supported Mon Amie as the woman’s body rocked back and forth.

"But Claudia remained in the village, didn't she?" said Tifa.

"Well, that’s because she fell in love. You see, a man traveled here. Claudia was helping out at the inn at the time. She must have been taken in by the outside air he brought with him. And he was a pretty fellow. I’m sure you see it when you look at Cloud. That boy got the best of both his parents!”

“Right…”

“But, just like the wind, he just couldn’t keep still. Not sure if Cloud learned how to walk yet, but around that time he told her he would go to the mountains, but never came back. They found his belongings though. His body probably got eaten by monsters. You were lucky you didn’t meet the same fate.”

Tifa braced herself. Was she going to bring up that incident?

“Cloud egging you on to climb Mt. Nibel… Maybe that was in his blood.”

Mon Amie’s body began to sway. Tifa had stopped holding onto her causing her to lose her balance. She couldn’t regain her footing in time, and fell flat down on her backside.

“Alright then," said Tifa. "Now let’s use the opposite leg. Please lift up your knee.”

Tifa held out a helping hand to her, but Mon Amie refused and got up on her own.

“Quite strict for a pretty face.”

“That’s because I get paid 6 gil to be.”

Before long, she became more attentive. She noticed Mon Amie lifting up her other knee, but it was at the wrong height again. While Tifa helped her to adjust, Mon Amie said, “You really don’t remember anything? You know, about that accident you got into?”

She was eight years old when she got into that accident on Mt. Nibel. Cloud was with her. The villagers chose to believe the story based on Emilio and the others’ testimonies, and nothing else could be said about it. Tifa really couldn't remember what happened.

"No, unfortunately not..."

Whether the elderly came to her for exercising or just to chat, it was tougher than she had imagined. Her father laughed at her and said he wouldn't have anything to do with them, even for 100 gil.

They never listened and were set in their ways, even the ones who kept away and smiled modestly at her. They just had a different view on things, and sulked if nobody paid them attention.

The topics they discussed also surprised Tifa, and sometimes hurt her too. She disliked whenever they brought up how her body looked so grown. There would be someone who sensed her discomfort or resentment, and would try to change the subject, but then it would turn into whom she should be with and things of that nature.

So, all things considered, Tifa preferred hearing them going on about herself rather than her father’s failed romances, or whom her mother used to hang out with before she got married to him. To the elderly townsfolk, her father and others his age were still “the village youth”.

After her day finished and she was about to go to sleep, she thought to herself that maybe there would be a time when she would be the one telling someone else about what happened today, or about some news she heard from another person. Telling the same stories over and over again, everyday just like the next, until she, herself, became just a relic of an era in village history.

※

“They confused me at first, but I got used to being around them, and then it wasn’t so bad anymore. That feeling of wanting someone to talk to—Everyone has that,” explained Tifa.

“So that’s where you learned to entertain guests? From spending your time talking to old folks?” asked Barret.

“Possibly. Maybe that did me good. More and more of the elderly signed up, and they started calling their morning gatherings the ‘Calisthenics Club’.”

“It’s like that at Seventh Heaven too,” said Barret with some intensity.

Aerith urged him to talk.

“It used to be just a small shop owned by this one gramps, but when Tifa started working there, the business picked up. Men crowded the place. Know what I mean, Red?”

“What I’m more interested in is what happened to Zangan afterward? I can sort of imagine based on your fighting style, Tifa...” said Red XIII.

“You’re right. There was a little more that happened before I got to where I'm at.”

※

A month passed after the start of the Calisthenics Club. All morning Tifa would teach the exercises and set aside time for her reading and arithmetic. The afternoon she'd go to the mountains and work hard towards building up her strength and stamina, and then would return home before sunset so her father wouldn’t worry. At night she would examine Zangan's writings and practice her form, reviewing the materials over and over again so as to not overlook anything.

One day, she received a letter from Emilio. He wrote about the fast-paced lifestyle in the big city, and told her about everything he found perplexing: arguments he had had with people, things he ate, the social inequality, and their differences in moral values.

“But whenever I get discouraged, it’s you I think about, Tifa, and then I imagine that day when I’ll come and get you. I'll write to you sometimes and teach you about the city, so you won't be so confused when that time comes.”

Who do you think you are? That's how she honestly felt reading the letter.

Zangan appeared, acting as if nothing had happened. He knocked on the door just in time to greet her father and asked for his permission to call Tifa out, and then led her to the river where they first met.

“Master Zangan, please let me be your student. I want to be stronger.”

“That’s exactly the answer I was looking for, but what’s the matter, Tifa? I sense your impatience. Why are you in such a hurry?”

“That’s not it!” she replied, but felt self-conscious. “No… It’s because I got that letter from my friend.”

“What kind of letter?”

“I think it’s because I don’t want to lose. I don’t want to lose to anyone who left the village.”

“Hmm. My hand-to-hand combat techniques are not meant to be used to make you feel superior to others.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. But the answer to that can only be found through diligent study. All right. I will acknowledge you if you pass my test.”

“Test?”

“Show me everything you’ve learned from Volume 1. You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

Tifa performed a sequence of forms from the physical training method.

“One more time, from the beginning.”

“Okay.”

This time Zangan interrupted with instructions.

"Check the book to see the direction your palms should be facing."

Tifa crouched down over the book and flipped through the pages. The form was wrong from the very start. Should have been above not below.

“I was wrong.”

“Try again.”

When she extended both hands and slightly shifted the direction of her palms, she felt a different set of muscles tingling.

“Everything from the Book of Secrets must be obeyed. Don’t try to interpret it another way or decide that your way is better. While disciplining your body, you must learn to be faithful to your decisions. If I take you in as my student, you will become stronger. So, you must cultivate your mind to control that power. The greater and stronger the power to handle, the greater the responsibility of its owner. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

The second time around, Zangan pointed out any minor mistakes she made. Each time she would have to go back and confirm with the Book of Secrets before advancing, which made things take twice as long. Fatigue built up in her arms and legs.

“Alright, now relax and close your eyes. Focus your attention and check the condition of your body. Does it hurt anywhere?”

“My upper back… I wouldn’t say it hurts but it feels like it’s burning...”

She slipped her right hand underneath her left armpit until it touched the lower part of her shoulder blade. Digging her fingers into it felt good.

“Hmph!” Zangan gave a satisfying nod. “That’s your shoulder blade. What you’re pressing into is the trapezius muscle. Surrounding it is your deltoid, infraspinatus, psoas minor and other muscles. The second volume will teach you how to train each one of those muscles on your back,” he said, while holding out a booklet to her. It was Volume 2.

“If you want to live your life with pride then pay close attention to your back. Squeeze your shoulder blades together, chest out. Walking through life with a beautiful posture is also part of your training.”

“Got it.”

“Let’s get started. Well then, onto Volume 2, No. 2-1-1, scapular push-ups.”

Zangan immediately prostrated himself on the ground, and lowered his chest. Tifa hastened to follow his example.

“All you're doing is supporting your whole body with your arms. Concentrate on your shoulder blades. Rotate them outwards—protract, retract, protract.”

It was her first time experiencing those movements. How was she supposed to move to protract her shoulder blades? She couldn’t picture it in her mind. Glancing over at Zangan she noticed he was rotating his shoulders outward, something her cat, Maru, often did.

“You look like a cat,” she said.

“Right. There’s a lot we can learn from cats.”

She focused her attention on her scapula, going up and down, until the repetition of movements were drilled into her body. Zangan rose and watched over Tifa for some time before clearing his throat.

“Good!”

The movements were subtle but still made her perspire.

“That’s because the muscles across your back are wider. Moving them increases the blood flow and raises your temperature, so that’s why you’re working up a sweat.”

After completing Volume 2, Tifa was sweating profusely. She felt unthinkable pain throughout her whole back.

“Alright, any questions? If you do, now’s your chance.”

She wanted to say, yes, but nothing came to mind at the moment.

“If not, then we’ll move onto Volume 3.”

“Huh?” she couldn’t help but shout. Her whole body was screaming in pain. Zangan ignored her and continued.

“Volume 3 is for chest and abs. We’re going to train your front body. The pectoralis major muscle is roughly divided into three parts: upper, middle and lower. There are several different ways to effectively train it, but I’ll teach you the basic concepts.”

“Alright…”

“At your age, your overall motor skills are complete, and in that regard, you excel. You haven’t had any special training, have you? If so, then you must have been born with this. Treasure it.”

“I will.”

She felt energy pour into her body. Perhaps listening to Zangan talk with a relaxed mind helped her to recover from fatigue.

“After a while, we’ll concentrate on building your muscles. But you will not be using any equipment except your body. We won’t be using barbells or dumbbells until you’re much older. Besides, our Zangan-ryu hardly finds them necessary. That is because I prescribe individual fighting styles that suit each of my students. You don’t need arms built like logs or a bulky chest. What you need is to build up a fighting style that will utilize those reflexes, that body, and your speed. Well, what do you want to do? Shall we call it a day?”

“No. Please go on.”

She didn’t want to disappoint the first person who had managed to earn her respect.

“Yes, that’s the spirit! Alright. But we’ll stop here for today. Let’s call this current level of fatigue your limit. Keep it in mind. You have a long way before you can try to challenge that limit to surpass it. Continuity is more important now than ever.”

On their way back, a realization came over Tifa regarding Zangan’s test. It didn't annoy her. If her father tried to make her work like that she’d probably stop talking to him for three days in a row. With those thoughts in mind, she walked her teacher back to the inn.

“Say hello to your father for me.”

As she stood in front of her house she could smell the scent of spices in the air. Spices that her mother liked to use in her best recipe. It was her father’s favorite dish, but since Tifa didn’t really like it, it was hardly ever served at the dining table.

She opened the door and said, “I’m home.”

“Welcome back.” Her father, dressed in an apron, peeked out at her from the kitchen.

“This smell… Huh? Is it mom’s?”

“I was really craving it... Oh, but I made something else for you.”

She was filled with remorse. She didn’t like the way he looked or the tone of voice he used when trying to gauge her mood, but it was all her fault for making it that way.

Novel by Kazushige Nojima

Translated by pekotranslates

Proofread by Eerie

#ffvii #ff7r #tifa lockhart #traces of two pasts #aerith gainsborough

101 notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 4 years ago

Text

smoke and fire (17)

word count; 8202

summary; after a dangerous call, neither of you can handle the waiting around anymore, and everything finally bubbles over.

notes; you’re welcome.

warnings; descriptive injury, reference to death, reference to arson, minor character injury.

“Holy fucking shit, I know they prepared us for this stuff with all those drills and what have you, but I never expected this.”

You smacked at Newt’s arm roughly, covering your face as you stared up at the building, smoke curling up from the top of the building, and scared students were all gathering on the grasses and the tennis courts, filtering out of the buildings and lining up, and it was eerily quiet. The usual fires you attended were loud, screaming and shouting of worried relatives as chatter went up, and big ones like this had news cameras and reporters gathering around, hounding victims for interviews and information.

This time, it was unsettlingly calm.

The kids had all followed routine, lined up with their teachers, each of whom were going along with attendance records, checking off the kids that had arrived and making sure they were where they were supposed to be, while tickling names off. Only the gentle voices of teachers talking in low tones to their classes could be heard instead of the usual clamouring, and you could still hear the alarms of the school’s fire alarms from inside as they rang.

Glowing flames licked up into the sky, windows shattering as glass got too hot and the smoke was black as possessions burned. Kids were crying, and at the gates were camera flashes and news team, all of whom held back out of earshot as they weren’t allowed to film the children, kept back from school property, and it was a blessing you were thankful for, because they would have been overwhelmed. You let out a slow breath, three other ambulances all pulling up, and you swallowed thickly while staring at the burning remnants of a once productive high school.

Even if they weren’t injured, you’d be required to check every kid here, and you were grateful for the assistance of other paramedics. They were already beginning to shift their equipment, setting up with tables and chairs that staff were carrying out from a sports hall storage room that wasn’t connected to the main building, safe from the flames and creating a makeshift triage bay.

Even just as you looked around, there were hundreds of kids that you and Newt would have to sort through alone. The firemen were buzzing around behind you, undoing rolls of hoses and taking them to the nearest hydrants, trying to come up with some kind of game plan, and you stared up at the building, nothing but pure confusion and empathy for the terror these students must be feeling.

“There’s gotta’ be, like, two thousand kids here.” You mumbled, cupping a hand over your eyes to look up at the glare, and your body sank a little.

“Yep, and you get to pick a piece of paper, choose your year group.” You jumped slightly, an unfamiliar voice, and your eyes found a similar uniform to your own, stretched over broad shoulders of a man who was a lot taller than you were, hair pulled back neatly behind his head in a ponytail, tattoos peeking out from under the collar of his shirt, and a beard neatly tucked away underneath his chin. “I’m Arthur, firehouse ‘46, and I’m apparently the one in charge of dividing up all the classes.”

“Is it too much to hope we get the freshmen?” You chuckled, taking a piece of the folded paper from his hands as he tried to keep it fair, and a deep chuckle vibrated through him as he nodded.

“Unfortunately, it would be, because my partner already picked that one out for us. No favouritism, I swear, just luck.”

“I’d challenge you on that, but your fist looks like it’s about the size of my head, so you’d probably win that fight.” He let out a louder laugh at that, raising a brow as you opened the piece of paper, his messy handwriting illegible for a second, and you studied it, before he was letting out a low whistle. “Juniors. Tough break.”

Newt let out a groan, what was arguably going to be the rowdiest and loudest group, protesting the most and kicking up a fuss, and you shrugged, accepting his final pitiful smile before he moved on. Newt watched him go, eyes scanning along him slowly for a second, before you clicked your fingers at him. “Hey, you just fixed things with your boyfriend! You gave me shit for being friendly with other firefighters, stop checking out other paramedics!”

“I wasn’t checking him out!” Newt gasped, cheeks tinting pink. “I was just looking, I guess. He’s not my type, I don’t want them too tall, it makes me feel tiny. I hate that. I want to be pushed up against the wall, not thrown around like a rag-doll. Too much muscle.” You glanced at him again, noting what he meant, because the man did look like he spent every free minute he had at the gym, and you shrugged.

Your eyes wandered then, you couldn't help it, flickering over the others around you before finding your team. The Truck team were all reporting to Thomas, no step-in lieutenant having arrived in Gally’s place yet, and didn’t like the idea of being a firefighter down on your team. He seemed to be coping through, giving out orders to a team twice the size, each breaking away in the usual pairs he made as they divided off to complete tasks.

Around the entrance to your ambulance, two tables had been set up, one on each side and a third one across them, forms being laid out in stacks with pens, each to be filled out by a student and held with them to take home, ones you’d have to sign every time to show you dismissed them, and you flexed your fingers, already anticipating the ache that would come.

The lines were beginning to shift again, teaching staff arriving with their lines of students, waiting to be told what to do, and you shared a look with Newt, before diving right into it. Splitting off the classes, you sat down behind one table, kids slowly filling out each form and coming to sit with you, letting you do initial checks across their eyes, their pulse and their reaction times, before signing each form.

Some were a little more injured, with small cuts and grazes, jostling in the halls knocking them around or to the floor, and you had quite a few bumped heads. Some had worse smoke inhalation, and some had been closer to the initial blast. Those were the worst ones, the ones with head injuries that were filling up the chairs laid out to wait for parents, and you had to not only sign your name on their forms but fill out medical information cards for them, ready to be sent to the hospital, and only an hour in, you felt like your hand was going to drop off. You’d scarcely made it to the other side off half of the kids, watching them all slowly being collected by crying and fearful parents, let in at the gates to find their kids, when you found out what had happened.

The gas taps in the science labs had exploded, a leaky seal that hadn't closed off and a bunsen burner that was too close to the leak. The science experiment gone wrong had sent flames bursting through all the labs along the floor, and you had to choke back bile when the kids who’d been sitting closer to the flames had come in.

They were shaking, sobbing tears and blood from burned skin that still smelled of gas. Melted plastic on smart uniform ties and burned clothing that still looks smokey. Ash was beginning to fall from the sky, blowing in your direction from the wind, some still glowing until it reached the ground, and they were all trembling from the trauma just at the remnants of it. You didn’t blame them.

The kid coming forwards next was shaky, an empty form clutched carefully in his hands as he handed it over, and you scribbled your name on it, looking up at him with a raised brow. “You know you gotta’ fill this out, right? I can’t let you leave until you have.”

“I know.” He whispered, the hands that were clenched under the table being lifted after a moment's hesitation, and he held his palms out, open hand facing you, backs pressed to the table. “I would but it hurt, I tried.”

You could see the etched strains of dotted ink at the top, your eyes wide as you took in the damage to his hands. He seemed alright everywhere else; a little red along parts of his skin where he’d gotten too close to some flames, but other than that, nothing too bad, but the damage to his palms was extensive. Blackened skin was charred and burned, bleeding and red flesh exposed underneath and raw to the cold air and you imagined it would be agony, the injuries travelling all the way to his wrists. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I, um, my hands got burned when I was trying to get out.”

I can see that, kid, but how?” You were filling in the form yourself, scribbling down the notes you could do yourself, and letting him substitute his name, date of birth and class number as you reached those sections, pen moving quickly over the paper as you waited for a reason. “I can't let you go until you tell me.”

“A door got stuck. I had to push it open.”

“How stuck was this door, because these aren’t the kind of burns that happen with quick movements, this took prolonged exposure.” He squirmed in his seat, avoiding your eye, and you gave in. Beside you, scattered around on your table and in the ambulance were the contents of your medkit, and the drawers, all running low on supplies as you’d tended to many injured kids, and you shook your head at his reluctance to speak. “Alright, fine, we’ll wait it out. Any allergies?”

He shook his head, chin wobbling a bit, and you handed his form back over to him, a neat crease down the middle where it was folded in half, and he held his hands out for you upon request. His face screwed up at the sting of the antiseptic spray, soft warnings on murmured apologies on your lips as you sterilised the wounds, before beginning to wrap them with aloe and cream soaked bandages. He shed several tears during the process, twisting to wipe his face on his shoulder as you patched up the first hand.

“Ready to talk, yet?”

He looked up at you again, shaking his head slowly after a second, and you let out a disappointed sigh that you hoped might make him cave, but he held strong. You worked on the other hand, wrapping the medicinal bandages slowly and carefully over his skin, weaving between his fingers and around his thumb, making sure to cover all of the exposed flesh right down to his thumb, before tucking it in carefully and sealing them with tape.

“You can go and wait over on those chairs until you’re ready to fess up, and you’re gonna’ have to go to the hospital for real treatment.” You nodded to one of the teachers as he went, head hung low and sulking as he walked away, before you turned to the next kid.

This one was worse, the same burns but these ones travelled halfway up his forearms, another empty sheet placed down in front of you, before he too was glancing at the last kid with burned hands, and your eyes narrowed on the two. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I got stuck, behind a-”

“A closed door? Is that what you're about to say?” A guilty look flashed over the second boy’s features, wide-eyed as he swallowed the lump formed in his throat, and he nodded. “That’s total bullshit. I don’t know what the two of you have been up to, but you don’t think I know what causes burns when I see them? I work in a firehouse, my firemen get burned up all the time, and this isn’t what happens when you push open a burning door. This is what happens when you hold onto something hot for a long time.”

He didn’t say anything, he just held out his hands, hissing in pain but managing to blink away his tears, unlike his friend, when you began to treat his wounds. The more severe they were, the more supplies you required, and you opted to dab the aloe gel and burn cream mix up to his elbows on each hand with a cotton pad, gentle not to let the tips of your fingers drag on open flesh as dry rubber from your gloves irritated the wounds.

“You need to tell me what happened, because I can’t let you go when you’ve got burns like this. You know it’s criminal evidence, right? If you don’t fess up and tell me the truth, you’ll have to tell it to the police. Why didn’t your teachers bring you forwards first if you had these kinds of injuries?”

“Because we weren’t in class.” He eventually whispered, and now the tears flowed, something inside of him seeming to crack wide open as hot tears flowed, the kid breaking down before you in a sob. You were wrapping his second arm carefully by the time he managed to catch his breath, his reaction shocking you a little, you didn’t want to make the kid cry with your threat of talking to the police, you just wanted to know what would happen. “We didn’t do this, I swear! We weren’t involved!”

“I know that, this was a freak accident, we already know that much, but you can tell me what happened.” Once you were finished, you took a seat before him, taking off blood and ointment stained gloves and throwing them in the bin bag you and Newt were rapidly filling up. As you did, you noticed Newt treating a kid with much the same injuries, your eyes narrowing a little on them for a second, before you sat down, picking up your pen and beginning to fill in the empty form. “We were skipping class.”

“All kids do that.” You chuckled, taking his name and date of birth as he worried his lower lip between his teeth, and just like that, all of a sudden, he was twisting to the side in his seat, retching violently onto the floor, as more tears began to flow. You abandoned the forms, rounding the edge of the table and the area around you where parents had been collecting their kids and teachers had been dismissing them suddenly fell silent, everybody turning to look over, and you rubbed his back gently, the contents of his stomach emptying.

When he was finished, he sat back up, trying to wipe at his mouth and wincing when he rubbed his mouth against his bandages by mistake, before lowering his hand. He slumped, seemingly drained of energy, eyes hooded a little, and you checked his pupils and his reactions again but they came out perfectly fine, and so this reaction wasn’t related to any injuries. “There were four of us.”

“Four of you?”

“Yeah, four of us skipped class.” You glanced around, noting only three with burned hands as Newt dismissed his kid to join your first, and a chilling feeling settled like a pit in your stomach. “We were in the theatre rooms, they’re below the science floors. We were messing around, and Ian went to the toilets in the corridors. When the explosion went off, the floor started to collapse, and a beam went over the door.”

You hated that you already knew where it was going, and your eyes impossibly wide as you glanced around, trying to find the yellow stripes of any fireman you knew to be free from your house, or any house, but they were all busy and out of view.

“The beam caught fire, and we tried so hard to move it, we tried but it hurt so much, and there was so much smoke and it got so hot, and we couldn't do it anymore. We had to go, we tried so hard but we had to go!” He was borderline hysterical, stuttering over his words as he cried, before he was gagging again, and you stepped out of the way, just avoiding his upchuck as he emptied his stomach again, guilt and anxiety taking a physical reaction on him. You processed his words, before the heavy truth settled over you again.

“Oh my God, Newt, there’s a kid still trapped in there.”

“What?” Your partner whipped around in his seat, eyes wide, before looking to the kid still heaving, and the other two with matching injuries. “Go find someone on the team, I'll finish up here!”

You nodded, pausing for a second to look around, before catching sight of a few metallic strips glinting in the light not far from the Squad truck. You stumbled over your feet, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to get there. Rounding the edge of the red van, you found Winston sitting on the edge of the truck, door open, one foot on the floor by his helmet as the other was pulled up, his back pressed to the wall, and he was panting for breath, sweating as his mask lay beside him.

He cracked an eye open as he looked up at you, confusion taking over his face for a second, before concern was replacing it. “What’s up? Aren’t you dismissing kids?”

“There’s still a kiss trapped in there?”

“We did a sweep, everyone did, they checked every room and every floor, all the rooms.” You shook your head, hands shaking a little with your fear, and you felt the tremors spread over your body.

“No, no, there is someone.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself, and he sat up a little further. “There’s three kids, burns all over their hands and up their arms, because they were skipping class. They were right under the explosions, a kid was in one of the bathrooms and a beam fell over the door, they tried to move it but they couldn't, he’s trapped inside.”

“He’s been in there since this fucking happened? That was hours ago!” Despite his shock and disbelief, he was on his feet again, grabbing for his mask and his helmet, being the first one to finish his set of tasks clearly not coming much in handy, because he was going to be going back inside. “Where was he?”

“Uh, they said they were near the drama and theatre halls.” He nodded his head, hooking his mask back up to his oxygen tank as he pulled it up and adjusted the straps on his shoulders. “Winston, I gotta’ go with you.”

“No way, it’s falling apart in there.”

“I know, but you said it yourself, it’s been hours. That kid is gonna’ need immediate first aid, and how much first aid do you know?” He looked conflicted, tapping his foot a little and glancing around, watching as a few more members of your team, as well as others, all began to emerge from different exits. There was only so much of the fire they could risk putting out, when the building was igniting faster than they could contain it, it would have to simply burn itself out. “C’mon, Winston. Just grab me gear and let's go.”

“Fine, but stick by my fucking side and don’t take a step away, okay?”

“I promise!” You nodded, and he opened up one of the spare lockers. You knew the drill, kicking off your shoes and grabbing the heatproof gear that was labelled in a silver tin with your name across the front in permanent marker. Tugging the pants up your legs as fast as you could, you sealed them at the waist, tying them tightly and grabbing your jacket. You buttoned it up, fingers shaking as you did, before kicking off your shoes, uncaring of where they landed.

Pulling on your boots, you knelt down to tie them, your med bag landing beside you as Winston had retrieved it, and he looked more than anxious as he stared at you, letting you tuck the laces into the edge of the shoes to hide them once they were tight. “You’re gonna’ have to carry your bag, because you need to wear a tank and mask.”

He shook the other objects in his hands, and you stood, turning around and guiding your arms through the straps as he held it out, your breath forced from your lungs as the heavy weight settled onto your back. Following it, he rested the mask over your face, the glass fogging up for a second as you took heavy breaths, clearing a second later when cool oxygen was twisted on and began to come through. He fixed his own mask, gloves and helmet following as you copied him, checking it was all sealed up tight around your skin, before grabbing your bag.

You always felt like an astronaut in this gear, big and puffy and baggy, like you were walking with added gravity following behind him in wide and shuffling steps as quickly as you could, nerves and fear riding more and more as you headed towards burning entrances. It was something you’d never get used to, the idea of walking straight into flames, of walking into a burning building, and you patted deftly across the front of your helmet to find your torch, turning it on as Winston did the same, and then, you were plunging into thick black smoke.

It was like something from a horror movie, you could see other firemen wandering around, their shadows as they tried to at least secure as much as they could as the fire ripped through the building, burning through whatever fuel it could, and none of them paid you any mind. Clutching your bag up to your chest, you kept your eyes fixed on Winston, not daring to take your eyes off of him in case you lost him, and he was following signs as he went, trying to find the downstairs floors of the drama and theatre.

Your steps left footprints in the ash that was lining the floor, each footstep padded to silence by the thick grey layer, like a breadcrumb trail as you went, and it was a guiding light that was brushed away seconds later with the air currents created by flames.

You knew it when you finally arrived, large amphitheatres and halls, Winston pausing as he tried to identify which way the toilets would be, and his head twisted as he looked from one end to the other.

“You check that side, I’ll check this one. Do not go out of yelling range or sight.”

You gave him a mock-salute, peeling off to the left when he went to the right, and you scanned along the walls for the doorways.

There was nothing, just places where posters had been on the walls, the smashed glass of photos or peel offs to more corridors, but no toilets or burned beams. Just as you reached the end of the hall, only one direction coming off of it in a short pathway, you noticed something. It was crumbled now, black and crumbled but it could definitely have once been a solid beam, and as you squinted through the smoke, you could just about make out a doorway.

“Winston! I think I got it!” You yelled as loud as you could, turning around to find him spinning to look at you, and you held an arm out in a point down a connected corridor. He took off in a jog, as fast as he could move in the heat and the layers of clothes, and while it took him only seconds to reach you, it felt like it dragged on and on, the emergency making everything seem too slow as you worried for the trapped kid’s well-being.

He stepped ahead first, pacing towards it, and you followed after him, a slightly relieved breath leaving you when you were close enough for your head torches to reflect on signs signalling for the toilets. Winston placed a hand on the beam as the two of you approached it, pressing down on it as best he could, and the beam groaned at the pressure, but despite the force he applied, it didn’t crack.

He held out an arm, pushing you back slightly as his hand went to the toolkit around his waist, and unhooking a small hand axe. He held it up, adjusting it carefully in his grip, before swinging it up high and bringing it back down. It dug in, getting stuck for a second, and a large splintering sound filled the air, but it didn’t break.

He tried again, and again, and your anxiety was almost ready to burst when it finally cracked, hitting the floor with a loud thud, and you jumped, wincing slightly at the sound. The half still attached to the ceiling fell down, bringing a little more of the ceiling down, and it all became unstable again. Pieces of the roof were crumbling away, crashing down in bundles of flames to the floor, but at least one problem was solved.

Putting away the axe, Winston kicked open the door, waiting to see if any fire would come out. There was fire crawling along the roof, but the tiled floors were clean, the room smoky and filled with ash but reasonably safe, and the two of you entered.

As promised, there he was, the fourth student was unconscious on the floor beside one of the sinks. You glanced around, noting the jacket he must have been wearing was soaked with water, lay over his face as he’d tried to breathe through it to stop too much smoke inhalation, and Winston glanced at you as you sunk to your knees.

“Smart kid, that move probably saved his life.” You peed it back, checking for any signs of breathing, and you found his vets to be rising and falling very slowly and weakly, barely taking in any oxygen at all. Lifting up the torch from your keyring, you raised an eyelid, bloodshot eyes encasing pupils that were hardly responsive, reactions that took over a second to come into focus, and barely moving.

Scanning along his arms, you noted the raw burns that were forming along his flesh, tugging your bag open quickly and grabbing for the aloe inside. If he was to be carried back through the building, you wanted to minimise any risk of his wounds getting any worse. You didn’t try to be delicate or gentle, you were rushing, knowing you had to put speed over gentleness now, and that you could treat them properly once you were back outside.

Twisting on down on the taps, not much water came through, dripping through the pipes, and you used your teeth to pull off one glove, daring to touch the water. It wasn’t exactly cold, the pipes underground being heated by the fires above, but it was cool enough, and you dropped piles of bandages down into the sink to begin to soak. Taking open the gel, you squeezed out thick rows of it onto his arms, using your bare hand to rub it in, trying to be fast as the skin on the back of your hand began to hurt. Once it was rubbed in, you began to pick up dripping bandages, not even bothering to ring them out, before sealing the cool wrapping around his arms as best you could to keep them secured.

As soon as they were on, you were pulling your glove back on, and rubbing at the back of your hand through the material to soothe the pain there.

“He needs oxygen, with reaction times like this, I’m surprised he’s still breathing.”

“I can give him my mask.”

Winston reached for his mask, and you shook your head. He was covered in burns, he was out cold, and there was no way he’d wake up anytime between now and the hospital, it at all. Despite being alive, you had no idea what the long-term effects would be on him, and you hoped for the best, but you knew there wasn’t much Winston could do without his mask. “You can’t, you’re gonna’ have to carry him out of here. He takes my mask.”

No way, I’m trained for this, you aren’t. You’ll choke up in here before getting back to the main corridors.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t exactly carry this kid. So, if we want to get him out of here alive, we’re just going to have to risk it.” You didn’t wait for his response, ignoring his protests as you took off your helmet, reaching behind your head for the elastics of the mask, and pulling them off. The second it was gone, your skin flared up at the rush of heat, and you took a gasping breath. Your lungs were searching for oxygen, the flames burning most of it away, and you were getting so little now that your pure source was gone.

Hooking the mask over the kid’s face, you took off your tank, holding it on your arms as Winston glared at you from behind the glass, crouching down to pick the boy up from the floor, and you placed the tank onto him too, waiting for Winston to adjust his grip before letting go of the pair. Putting your helmet back on, you tucked your hair under the collar of your jacket, protecting the back of your neck.

Zipping your bag back up and draping the damp hoodie over his head for added protection against the flames, you hid your face in your elbow, coughing against the smoke and trying to breathe lightly so as not to suck too much of it into your lungs.

“Follow me, keep up, okay? Don’t fall behind.”

There were worry and concern in his voice, friendly and desperate as he pleased with you, and you nodded your head. He turned, moving as quickly as he could as he left the bathrooms again, backing or of the door and back into the hallway. If you’d thought the bathroom had been bad, this was far worse, your eyes watering and lungs burning as soon as you stepped out. You kept one arm raised, simply to protect your face, your bag clenched under the other arm.

Winston was moving faster than you were, the lack of oxygen making you fall behind, but you could still seem him ahead, and you could see the large and fresh imprints of his bots in the ash before they were fading in the swirling storm of burning debris, following them once the smoke was too much for you to keep your eyes raised for too long. They were stinging, watering continuously to blink free dust that got in them, and your tears were almost absorbed right off of your face.

When you looked back up, daring to stare into the hallway, it was void of movement, all the firemen having cleared out as the smoke got thicker, burning through the insulation in the walls now. The corridors forked, and you paused, trying to remember which way you’d come. There was no daylight to guide you, no windows you could see through, just thick smoke lit up by orange flames, and you swallowed down on a sore throat coughing again as you grew more and more scared.

You had to move, you knew you did, and so you chose one option, knowing that moving in either way was better than simply standing still. Following it along, the further you went, the more and more unfamiliar it became, the minutes melting away as you stumbling along all the while knowing you’d chosen the wrong way. You found the wall, hand sitting on it lightly to help guide your way, and your fingers bumped against a raised section.

Pausing, you brushed the dust away, squinting to read what it said. There were several classroom guidances, and then something that made you want to cry with relief, even if it was the wrong direction. The gardens. You hadn't seen any gardens upon coming into the school grounds, and so you assumed you were on the other side of the building now, having stumbled along for so long you’d moved all that way, but as long as you got out, you’d be fine.

Following that guidance, you paused each time you found a sign, before finally, doors that had burned right off their hinges and had fallen off allowed a little sunlight to poke through the smoke.

Your feet scraped on the ground as you finally made it out, soft ash falling away to be replaced with concrete, and you wanted to fall to the ground, knees weak with bliss at escaping the building, but you forced yourself to keep going. You were gasping, throat raw as you took deep breaths, finally able to do so once again and you felt a little dizzy as your head spun at the sudden rush of fresh air.

You grabbed at the front of your jacket, sweltering in the thick material as you tugged on it until it came loose, flapping at the front and letting in cold air and you felt a little less restrained.

You stayed away from the building as you tried to walk around it, following the flashing lights on the ambulances until the place where you’d been stationed started to come into sight once again. It was clearer, only a few kids left milling around, the fire teams having retreated back to their vans, equipment being stripped off and water bottles handed out, and you searched for your own team.

You found them, all gathered around and starting at the entrance, even Winston and Newt, and you noticed that one of the ambulances was gone, presumably having rushed your reduced child to the hospital. They were waiting for you to emerge from the entrance you’d entered, all looking nervous, and Newt was the first to notice you coming around the other side.

As soon as he had, the group were turning to you, your body slumping a little more under your weight, and you staggered towards them. Newt found you first, taking your bag from your hands as you held it out to him, and offering him a tired smile as he shook his head fondly.

“You gave me a fucking heart attack.”

“I’m perfectly fine, Newt, I swear.” He frowned for only a second longer, before his lips were breaking in a smile, and Brenda was up next. She took you into a tight hug, arms underneath the edge of your jacket, which Minho was peeling down your arms for you and taking away the added weight, and you thanked him silently with a nod as you wrapped your arms back around her. “Bren, I’m okay.”

“You think you’re a damn firefighter, I swear it!”

You laughed at that, throat a little raspy as it trailed off into a caught, and Newt chuckled. “Let’s get you some water, okay?”

“That sounds awesome.” You followed them over to the trucks, Newt jogging ahead to get you a bottle, and as soon as you arrived, you took it. You cracked the lid open taking a large gulp, and looking around for a second, before the person you were unintentionally searching for was found. He looked angry, a face like thunder as he stormed over, shoulders squared and tense with furrowed brows.

His steps had purpose, and the closer he got, the more you could take him in. Slightly dirty skin, sweaty and stained with soot and ash had tracks under his eyes cut into them from tears, the edges of his scowl wobbling as he looked still on the edges of jagged emotions, and you were filled with guilt. You met him halfway, mouth dropping to talk to him but he beat you to it, a sharp inhale before he is grabbing your arm, and dragging you between the two parked fire trucks as the rest of the firemen all seemed to clear away in fear of his anger.

“Are you fucking insane?” There was a crack to his voice that you didn’t comment on, giving away that his anger was actually fear, no rage at all but simply worry that you had caused, and you hated that you’d done it, but you wouldn't take your action back, not when you’d saved a life once again. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you’d let that boy die in there. “Do you have any idea how fucking worried I was? I come out after hours in that burning building to find you and check you’re okay just to find out you’ve gone into the fucking wreckage? To find out you took off your goddamn mask and got lost?”

His frown melted away, fresh tears filling his eyes, and he sniffed lightly, his face crumpling again as his tears came free. Two large droplets leaked along his cheeks, leaving wet marks, and your stomach twisted with guilt. You took off your gloves, dropping them down to the floor without a care to be able to cup his cheeks and wipe them away from his flushed skin as he stared at you. “I got stuck, Tommy. That’s it, I’m sorry, okay? I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I knew that kid was in there and I let him die to save my own life.”

You sank down, every muscle in your body aching as you sat on the edge of the van, finally giving in to your exhaustion, and he let out a shaky and weak sob again. He followed, sinking to his knees in front of you, his entire body collapsing under the weight of his worry, but his eyes never left your own.

He lifted a bare hand, cupping your cheek the way you had for him a second ago, and his eyes moved as he swept his sights over your face, trying to take a more deep and calming breath. The simple skin to skin touch grounded him.

“Don’t make me lose you, too.” He whispered, a silent beg in his words not to leave him, and your heart cracked a little in your chest. “I know you’re mad at me right now, okay? You say you’re not but I know you are because I spent enough time with you mad when we first met to know what that looks like on you.”

You chuckled, his lips flicking up at the edges as you did.

“I can handle you being mad, though, okay? I can handle that, because I love you, but I can’t handle you dying. I can’t take that. Don’t do that to me, I need y-” Your hands smoothed over his chest, finding the edges of the jacket he had yet to shed and pulling him forwards. You bowed your head down to his level, cutting off his words by placing your lips on his, and he shuddered under your touch, groaning into your mouth as his mind caught up with what was happening.

He panted slightly, twisting his head to the side to get a better angle, and this was nothing like last night. He wasn’t shy or worried, he just poured out everything he felt, his lips working slowly but surely with your own, a desperation and need hidden underneath in the kiss that made you tremble, because it was nothing like you’d ever felt before. You didn’t feel the metal you were sitting on or the truck behind you, the voices of everyone still around seemed to face away, your entire focus shifting to only him.

He pressed up, kissing you just as firmly and gripping your jaw with a little more force. After a moment longer, lungs demanding air, he pulled back, long enough for a gasping breath and to lick over his lips. He forced himself to stand up on shaky legs, one hand on your waist pulling you with him, before he was pressing you back into the edge of the truck for support. The cold metal against your back was nothing with the way his chest pressed to you, drawing in his head as he held you so close, that hand sliding around your waist to pull you flush up against him.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, your nose bumping his as he stole several more pecks from your lips as the two of you caught your breath, and you puckered your lips for him each time, stuttering as his fingertips pressed into your skin through your shirt. “I know this isn’t how you wanted our real first kiss to go.”

“I so don’t care anymore. Just shut up and kiss me again, sweetheart.” He closed the gap himself, and you hummed happily as his tongue dragged over your lower lip, tempting you to part them, and you moaned weakly when his tongue dared to dip out and brush with your own. It was a connection you both needed, long overdue and frantic.

A messy kiss, clashes of teeth with need and raspy breaths between kisses, bumping foreheads when you moved but you'd have time to perfect it, but right now, you just needed to make the promises to each other that you were okay, and you were still here. When he finally pulled back, it was reluctantly, dragging slightly kiss swollen lips away from your own to stare at you, darkened eyes going soft the longer he looked, and he pulled away long enough to run the back of a finger over your cheek, a look that could only be described as adoration taking over. “I love you, and you don’t have to say it back, not until you really mean it, but I mean it and I want you to know. I want everyone to know, you’re always gonna’ be my first and only choice, angel.”

You grinned, a giggle that you muted by pressing your lips to his own in a chaste kiss, and when you pulled back, he followed your lips for a second, only furthering your intimate amusement.

“I’m never going to get tired of being able to kiss you now.”

“I should hope not.” He beamed, brushing the tip of his nose with your own, before stepping back fully, and bringing his hand to yours, weaving your fingers together. “Go sort out your team, lieutenant, they’ll be needing you to help pack away.”

“I’m sure they can wait a few more minutes, I’ve waited months to get here with you.”

“Yeah, well, you can have me all to yourself later. You still owe me pizza.” His joy only brightened more at the offer, his brows raising, and he was nodding enthusiastically. “I’ll stay over, and you can kiss me as much as you want.”

“I’d love that.” He pecked your lips one more time, a pink blush taking over his features as he realised he could now, before he was stepping back. “I’ll meet you back at the firehouse?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You whispered, and he turned away, giving you a second of privacy, lifting your fingers to brush over your lips, your mind still reeling as you attempted to process what had happened. A throat cleared a second later, and Newt was standing with his hands on his hips, head tilted toward the ambulance.

“I’m not putting all that shit away myself so you can daydream about kissing Tommy.” He scoffed, teasing you a little as he made his way over, and you couldn't help the smirk your lips were forming. “So, did he finally man up and kiss you? He's only been talking about it for months.”

“I kissed him, actually.” Newt’s jaw dropped, his hands shooting up in the air with a loud cheer to follow.

“I fucking knew it! I fucking knew it! Gally owes me twenty damn bucks, and I will collect.” He slung an arm over your shoulders, guiding you towards the ambulance that he needed help with beginning to pack away, and you shrugged, reaching up your hand to hold onto Newt’s as it hung over your shoulder.

“I can’t believe you were betting on us.”

“I was betting on you, I knew he would psych himself out, all my money was on you, love.” He offered a cheesy grin, pinching at your cheek, and you raised your brows.

“Well then, shouldn't I get half of the winnings? Since I helped you to victory, and all..” Newt let you go when you reached the van, the tables being folded away by the staff, but there were medical supplies piled high in the entrance to the ambulance, and you had to pack them all away correctly, and double-check over the doses of medicines, in such a high-risk area for theft.

“Tell you what, I’ll buy you a cocktail with half the winnings, if you come on a double date with me and Derek?” You chuckled, unsure whether or not he was serious, and an odd look passed over newt’s face, the blond scratching at his jaw and avoiding your eye.

“A double date, really?”

“Look, you already know Derek, you and he are friends. Good friends. Tommy has been my best mate since I was just a lad and always will be, and you’re my best friend too. I really like Derek, okay? I really like him, and I want him and Tommy to get along too, because they’re both so important to me, and I figure a double date makes it casual.” He shrugged, looking back up to you, curious for your opinion as his cheeks grew warm. “Is it stupid? I just felt like going out to dinner or something made for less tension than a baseball game and a pizza.”

“It’s not stupid, Newt. I’m totally down for it, sounds fun, but you’re gonna’ have to convince Thomas.” You teased, and your partner rolled his eyes.

“Oh, please, I don’t gotta’ do shit if you’re on board. You have him wrapped around your little finger. You don’t even have to pucker up or bat your eyelashes, he’s already all soft on you.” Newt pouted, mocking you playfully with the words, and your guts twisted in a nervous excitement.

“I’ll talk to him about it, tomorrow morning.”

“Breakfast date?” He climbed up into the back of the van, beginning to scoop up the materials like bandages and plasters to put them away, and you started sorting through the bottles of medicine and pills that would need counting.

“Dinner date, actually.” Newt gasped falsely, holding a hand over his heart.

“Scandalous, staying over already.”

“You’re just jealous.” You shot back, his face dropping in a mock glare.

“Low blow.” He threw a roll of bandages at you, ones that bounced off of your head as you laughed at him, and rolled away to the concrete, and he pointed at them. “Go get them, and leave your attitude out there when you come back.”

You flipped him off, standing up to follow after the sealed bandages packet, and you scooped them up, glancing around the scene as two ambulances had already left, their house firetrucks following, and the third house was finishing their packing up. Brenda was packing away the coats into the van, hanging them up on the hooks inside the compartment to be washed and cleaned for later, and Minho was rolling the fire hoses back up with Jeff and Clint.

Thomas was rubbing a hand over his forehead, staring up at the building for a second, before turning, glancing around, and his eyes found yours. He paused for a second, one eye dropping in a lazy wink a moment later when he let Thomas crack through his lieutenant persona for a second, and he licked over his lips, stretching to a wide smile. He nodded his head for a second, a simple gesture but it felt like more than just that, and your lips pressed together to hold your smile, nodding your head in return, and letting your stare linger for a second longer, before going back to work.

Newt was waiting, still packing away and whistling a tune to himself as he worked, taking the bandages from you when you approached, and you hummed along in time with the tune once you recognised it enough, his eyes glinting when you did. It was an unspoken thing, a delicate symbol of friendship as the two of you worked in quiet harmony, humming along to the same song as you worked, settling in to a well worn and familiar routine that you hoped would never break.

#thomas #thomas x reader #thomas/reader #thomas the maze runner #ff!tommy #firefighter!tommy #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #smoke and fire #SAF #dylan obrien thomas #dylan obrien the maze runner

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poptod · 4 years ago

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Pull the Stars Out of the Sky (And Gift Them To Me), (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: The new Pharaoh has a bit of an obsession problem.

Notes: i suppose this would technically be yandere but i really dont want to admit that i wrote yandere fanfiction about a childrens movie WC: 4.6k

He called himself a savior. His people called him a God. Thus he acted as a sort of savior God, decked in gold, more powerful than the kings of a hundred foreign lands. He kept his friends close as he had no enemies, those in power too afraid to stand up to his might.

It was not as though he was undeserving of this title––quite the opposite. He dug his country out of a dangerous recession that followed an invasion by the Hittites. He defended his status as Pharaoh against his tyrannical elder brother, who had attempted to claim his rightful place on the throne. He brought great prosperity to his people and maintained his image of regality, the untouchable air around him, as though the Gods truly did walk the earth in the form of him.

Here he was, the most powerful man to walk the earth, coddling you as his fingers ran through your hair.

The decisions that brought you to this moment were poorly thought out at best and downright shameful at worst. Your home in the southeast of Africa now lay what felt like eons behind you, hazy memories of chains and scuffing, bloodied feet whirling in your head. Even in your village you knew of him––not by name, of course––and had already grown to fear him. By the time you got out of your home village and began going market to market, you knew to stay clear of him at all costs. But his dirty soldiers were everywhere, and constant vigilance brought you back-breaking stress that had your steps faltering.

Your stumbling was what brought you here. Stumbling into prison, stumbling into a palace, stumbling into a King's chambers.

"Aren't you just gorgeous," he cooed softly, petting your head.

The rough, uneven pull of your breath was the only disturbance in the peaceful room, bathed in warm light and Egyptian paintings. Every nerve in your body screamed to get away, to worm yourself out of his touch, but with every attempt he just held you tighter.

"What's your name? You look hungry," he said, eyes scanning your panicked face. "Would you like something to eat?"

Punch him. Talking to you like a dog.

You shook the thought out of your head, but the Pharaoh took it as a nod of confirmation.

"We'll get you some food," he decided with a smile, separating from you long enough to stand and pull you up with him.

He did not part his hand from yours, instead leading you through the long, tall hallways and their arches that painted scenes from stories you didn't know. Your past excursions to Egypt had hailed no such royalty, nor did any of your other travels. Most of the time you stayed in hostels and taverns. The grandeur and sanctity of churches and temples were as close as you got to this, standing on the cusp of a garden that stretched further than you could see, the white alabaster pillars lining your vision.

"Come," he said, and you thought it best to try not to disobey him. "This is a food garden. You can eat anything you like."

It had been a while since you'd gotten a good meal. The last thing you ate was hardtack from a tavern about a six-hour walk down the river from here.

The Pharaoh followed closely behind as you moved forward, constantly looking over your shoulder as you scanned the different vines and bushes. It was the color that caught your eye––most of the plants along the Nile sported an olive-type green, dull and yellow-ish. Many of the leaves in this garden were a bright green, more so than moss and grass, lively and soft beneath your fingers.

Only after scanning the whole of the garden did you decide on what to eat. From blossoming flowers in the water that lined the walkway to the figs hung high on the trees, you chose plums sprouted fruitfully from a short tree.

You sat right where you stood as you began gnawing at the flesh, tangy juice dripping from your bite marks. After a moment of watching you the Pharaoh lowered himself to your height, earning a chary side glance from you.

"What is your name, lovely?" He asked again, much softer, as he once more began to pet your hair. Most other times you would've shaken the hand off, but most other times it wasn't Pharaohs touching you.

"Amoke," you said through a rough throat and full mouth. Your voice had remained unused since you stepped foot in jail, and it was only now that you were reintegrating its' use.

"Amoke," he repeated, nodding. "A western name. Is that where you're from?"

You nodded.

"Do you like it there?" He asked quietly.

You shrugged.

"I should like to keep you here, then," he murmured, gaze flickering to every feature on your face. You watched his interest closely.

What came to mind was that you didn't want to stay here––that you wanted to keep on the road, stay away from the permanent and escape the inevitable routine. You couldn't say that, though. Not to his face. With nothing on your mind but leaving him and his touch, you remained silent in the wake of his request.

The sun soon set behind the garden's walls, casting long shadows that consumed the both of you without fail. When the residual light of the sky began to fade, he took your hand, paying the stickiness no mind as he led you back into the palace.

"I shall keep you in my room," he said with a firm confidence in his tone that stewed in your empty chest. "If ever you need something, just tell me. I can give you anything you desire. During the day you should stay in my room as well––it's safer that way. I'll be able to keep you safe."

From what?

Fifteen years travelling the world on your own and now you're forced into a single room for your 'protection.'

"My name is Ahkmenrah, though most call me by my title. 'My King,' and such. You may call me what you wish. I don't mind," he said, a smile crossing his features as he opened the door set in front of you. His eye only tore from you for a second before his attention was back, scanning the way you stepped nearer to him and into the room.

The once-bright light of sunset had vanished in his bedroom, replaced by the eerie purple of a late dusk. Outside the balcony arches, the sky bore an ombre of plum and blush, reaching up into the dome where stars had already come to see the world.

"I know your name already," you murmured, staring out to the city. His eyes remained ever on you, burning the back of your neck. "I know you freed many of your slaves but kept worker camps in Kush. I know you intimidated every nation so severely you can do anything you want now. It's not like anyone will stop you."

"You're knowledgable," he said, taking a seat on the floor.

"Is that what's happening here?" You asked, but he didn't quite understand. At his confusion you sighed but continued. "Am I supposed to be intimidated enough by you that I will stay here of my own free will?"

He furrowed his brow, tilting his head ever so lightly to the left.

"You... don't want to stay here?"

"No. I have a life that I'd like to get back to." Much of it being avoiding you.

"I don't understand," he said after a beat of silence. "You want to leave? But – there is nothing in the world I cannot give you here. Any riches you want, yours. Any delicacies are yours."

Ahkmenrah collected things. Already it was clear enough to see––collect and retain an image that prevents any fight against him, collect the riches of the world to give to his people and himself, collect the respect of those around him, and collect you. He will share with you everything he has gained if only you join this ever-growing, ceaseless collection of belongings. There is nothing stranger than being offered to become a toy.

"I prefer to keep moving. Meet new people," you said.

"You'll be safe here," he said, reaching for your hand. You instinctively pulled your hand away, but a sudden poisonous glare overtook his eye, and your heart froze in its' place long enough for him to gracefully lead you to your knees.

With you now raised on your knees, he met your height, nuzzling your cheek with his nose.

"I don't need to be –"

"You will stay here," he said, his intensity thrumming in your nerves. Once again there was no thought more comforting than leaving this place.

He must've noticed the panicked look on your face, as his expression softened.

"Do you understand? Oh, lovely," he said in a hum, fawning over you as his touch overcrowded your senses. His nose rubbing up beneath your jaw as he nuzzled into you, his hand holding your hip tight as the other tangled in your hair. He took in your scent with deep appreciation. "Sweet darling.. pretty one."

His mumbles grew less coherent the longer he held you, dusk fading into midnight as the silence of crickets resounded in the distant flora. The tension in your chest never fell, leaving you exhausted with your stiff breaths, bags beneath your eyes begging you to fall asleep, even if it was in the possession of another.

From waking up in an underground prison to mistakenly entering a King's chambers, the day weighed heavy on your mind with little solace at the end. Still, the body has its' cravings that will never relent, and you fell asleep to the rhythm of his praising murmurs and stroking hands.

Even hours later you awoke to arms still twisted around you, keeping you pressed tight to the warmth of the Pharaoh's chest. Hunger bit at your stomach, acid burning around the empty walls in a sweet reminder of your recent diet. Two-ingredient crackers and two plums in the last two days. You supposed that you wouldn't have to worry much about that in the future, so long as you stayed in his graces. While you doubted he would withhold food from you as punishment, you wouldn't put it past him, as it was a common jail tactic in many cities.

Wandering had been your sin for many years before this moment, and it would continue to be so whether or not you gave into the urge. Being stuck in any place––even one so comfortable as this––itched at your skin, tugged at your motionless legs and pulled at your scattered fingers. Despite your original insistence that you should stay still, your foot began to gently bounce as your fingers fidgeted restlessly. Your eyes darted every which way.

"I see you're awake," he mumbled, voice barely there in the first dregs of morning. "Stay a little longer."

Not that you really had a choice. His legs were all tangled in yours and you could barely move.

For what seemed to be another hour and a half you lay there, wondering when he would wake again and finally release you. He couldn't keep you here forever––not sleeping with him, not in this palace. It was clear he would not willingly let you go, so in the meantime ideas stirred in your head, plotting out ways to escape without his knowledge.

A knock came from the door when rays of sunlight began to touch the bedroom floor, flooding in through the arches. You wriggled when you heard the sound, disturbing Ahkmenrah from his sleepiness, which at last led to the loosening of his grip. The moment he went lax you tore yourself away.

Breath finally returned to you, the long hours of night fading away as your chest heaved an even up and down. The blankets around you fell as the Pharaoh stood, making his way to the large doors, where he removed the lock to let in a lean servant.

"Good morning, my King," he said, his gaze naturally coming to you. He stared at you but addressed Ahk, his words concise and posture straight. "You have a meeting with the embalmers of Thebes this morning, on the false accusations. After that you have –"

"– to overlook the temple building in the markets, yes, I know. My memory isn't that bad," Ahkmenrah grumbled, sighing deeply as he rubbed his face with his hand.

"Apologies, I just..." the servant's eyes flickered to yours, "didn't know if you.. drank last night."

"Just a glass, Naguib," he said with a slight smile, one that fell once Naguib began to root through his wardrobe.

You watched from your spot on the floor; the glint of gold in the closet, the mirror perfectly reflecting the King's standing position. His reflection yawned, dreary eyes meeting yours with a gentle delight. Instantly your vision darted away.

"Amoke, this is Naguib," he said, and in that moment you forced yourself to turn back to him. He was smiling expectantly, the servant behind him waving a polite hello. You returned the wave and he appeared to be satisfied.

Naguib picked the King's clothes and donned them on him, from the lapis beaded collar to gold cuffs on every wrist and ankle. The cape that streamed from his shoulders was a light all its' own, as though Ahkmenrah wore the sun upon his back, the silk drifting in gentle waves towards the marble floor. Only the crown was more regal than that, but above all was the man himself. The sweet coos and fawning words of the previous evening had faded into a stone face, pride on his puffed chest, and cunning on his parted lips.

"I'm afraid I'll have to leave you here for the day," he said as he stared at his reflection, smoothing out the wrinkles in his sleeves and the unevenness of his necklace.

"But –"

"No," he interrupted you before you could truly start, voice dipping low as half-lidded eyes turned to you.

There was something about his stare––something about the way he looked at you, as though he knew every thought in your head. This must've been the look that, in part, earned him his reputation.

"Stay here, pet," he said in a softer voice, bending down to kiss your forehead.

His lips were warm and enviously soft on your skin, but you had little time to process it before his cape whipped behind him, leaving you alone in the room. Naguib had left with him and locked the door. Now the only sound to calm the incessant ringing in your ears was the incredibly distant murmurs of an early-morning market, filled with birdsong and calling voices attempting to sell their work.

Fumbling to stand, you padded with bare feet towards the open arches. From here you could see the Nile and the many temples sprouted up throughout the city, their towers marking themselves distinct from the houses cluttering the twisting streets. It wasn't all unlike the other cities you'd seen––a different architecture style, of course, but similar nonetheless.

The arches had no railings of any sort, so as you peered over the edge, you kept both hands on the pillar beside you. Right beneath the Pharaoh's room was a garden, smaller than the one you had visited the night before.

It wasn't too far down, either.

You darted back into the room, pulling the thin blankets off the bed and off the floor, tying the ends together with frantic hands. Even your breath hastened to match your heartbeat, speeding dangerously in your chest as apprehension filled you. There was no time to waste––you needed to escape now, before he came back, before you had to memorize his routine; before this became more than a two-day problem.

Guards in their uniforms passed by outside, circling the palace with spears in their hands. You glanced out at them as you worked, trying to find the rhythm in their marching, and having little luck before you realized there were multiple groups passing by the arches at different times. A soft groan left you as you bit your lip in irritation. More things to calculate.

Although the ground didn't seem all too far away, it took a decent amount of time before the makeshift rope could reach the ground. Several hours of rearranging the types of knots and their placements finally wrought good results––the lowest blanket could now touch one of the trees near the garden's entrance, which you could use as a way down.

The sun had to be around midday, going by the shadows, and you assumed the Pharaoh would not be back to his bedroom until later in the evening. Before you could stay to see that time, you tied one end of your blanket rope to the arch's pillar and casted the length of it below you.

Hesitation caught you as you attempted to climb down, the sheer height of the building catching you off guard. What once seemed a short way was suddenly a means of death––not that it wasn't ever that before––and you could barely breathe with how tight your throat became. Your shaking hands gripped the cloth tight, sweating with the tension building in your muscles. Gentle breezes only accentuated your sweat, but it was not of import to you. All that remained on your mind in the overcrowding of fear was the need to escape, and thus you returned to your task, carefully scaling down the palace wall.

Nothing but silence dared make a sound in your thoughts as you climbed, breath evening further with every step you took downwards. The anxiousness only faded once you could see the individual leaves of the tree below you, and the design of the blanket stretched out on its limbs, crimson red and gold in the sunlight.

The moment you could reach you did so, clambering onto the thin branches in hopes of swinging towards the thicker ones. As you reached for the next branch, another hit your wrist, pain instantly shocking your left hand out of its' grip. Fortunately you caught yourself; just barely, and a second later you dropped to the ground with a huff.

You ran.

Without thought you ran, as fast as your feet could take you, as far as your lungs would allow. Air began to sting in your lungs, wind biting at the back of your open throat as you bounded through the halls, praying you wouldn't meet anyone on your way out.

The Pharaoh and his power was intimidating, no one could deny that, but your fears remained centralized in the idea of being known. You scarcely gave your name and hated living on in memory. Your own world was perfectly fine and you found no need to exist in anybody else's, no matter how much Ahkmenrah wanted you to.

But of course your stumbling would get you. As your thoughts were occupied, you paid little attention to the road in front of you, toppling over a railing you hadn't noticed yourself barreling towards. You tried to catch yourself with bulging eyes, but the ceiling was fading with mortifying speed. Bile filled your mouth as a sickness invaded your stomach.

Cool water splashed around you, soaking your clothes and skin alike as you sunk into the pool. Vines entangled you, the legs of lily pads separating in your wake, their flowers naught but silhouettes above you. A shadow appeared above you, but before you could make any decision it grabbed your upper arm and forced you out of the water.

"Ohh, dearest," sung a voice, accompanied by the close cradling of your body despite it being soaked. The sick feeling in your belly grew into a poison as recognition came to you. Your muscles tensed again in his grip, every nerve fighting against a fleeing instinct.

"My King, isn –"

"Quiet, Gyasi. My poor, sweet love... what are you doing here?" He asked, his hand coming up to stroke the hair away from your face. "I told you not to leave the room."

You shivered, leftover adrenaline sending shakes throughout your body. It left a tense silence where you would originally reply.

"You feel cold," he said, though you didn't feel at all cold. "Let's get you cleaned up, hm? I ought to do it anyway, since your clothes are a little torn."

He brought you to your feet, keeping an arm around you as he patiently led you away from the pond and those gathered there. Most everyone stared at you as you left, but you could barely notice, your vision blurred and hazy.

Steam filled your senses in the room he led you to, warm and scented with honey and lavender. Your eyes opened there, head raised to see the servant women working, stoking the fires and heating the water. Beside you, Ahk motioned to one of them, mumbling something in her ear that sent her out the door. Though curiosity did come to you, you kept silent in the unease of the Pharaoh's presence.

He had yet to accuse you of trying to escape, but it was only a matter of time. The rope in his room was still hung off the balcony. That fact kept you wary as much as it kept you jumpy, something Ahkmenrah unfortunately noticed.

By the hands on your shoulders he led you to a bath dug into the raised floor, the water inside steaming pleasantly with the scent of honey. Reluctantly you began to peel your clothes away, all too aware of his eye on you, memorizing how you stripped yourself down. As you dipped into the water, you attempted at removing the sick irritation you connected with him staring at you. It would happen quite a lot more (whether or not you wanted it to) before you could leave this place.

"Do you have any injuries?" He asked as he moved to sit beside you, his golden robes dirtying on the floor.

"I don't know," you said hoarsely.

"I'll have one of our physicians look over you. That was a long fall," he said, leaning forward to kiss your forehead again, before standing and leaving you to the care of the servants.

As promised, a physician visited you shortly, scanning over you while one of the women scrubbed at the dirt beneath your fingernails. The heat of the water calmed your muscles, untensing your anxious grips even as you were bombarded with questions.

By the time the servant women had dried and dressed you in new clothes, the Pharaoh had yet to return from whatever excursion he had left on. It didn't bother you, considering you didn't especially like being around him, but it did leave you wondering as you lazily watched the servants. Even if you wanted to leave you couldn't; you had no idea where in the palace you were, and there was a fair amount of guards wandering around outside the room. You bit at the inside of your cheek.

A good while later––far past the midday when you'd first fallen––he returned with singed clothes, ash covering his face. Your eyes widened at his appearance, and he was quick to notice your mild alarm.

"Incident at the, um, Bastet temple. One of the new priests really likes working with fire," he mumbled in a dazed voice, shaking his head as though he was trying to shake himself back into his body. "Are you alright?"

You nodded.

"Good. I've got most of the rest of the evening free, so let's get you back to my room, yes?"

It took quite a lot of self-control not to spit in his face, and much more willpower to slowly nod. He would accept no other answer and the suggestion of such would land you in unknown terrain.

He led you back down the hall, and each step you took burnt your regret into the ground beneath you. If one could identify the scent of fear, it'd be coming off you in floods, obvious in your panicked eyes and hastened breath. He would find the rope, and he would no doubt be angry. None of this would have happened if you had just watched where you were going.

Panic saturated your heart, functionally marinated it, as Ahkmenrah reached forward to open the door in the middle of the hallway. Every click of the latch had you flinching, till the door swung open and the light of late-afternoon hit your eyes.

The rope tied to the arch was inconspicuous, but the absence of nearly all the blankets in the room was not. Slowly the cogs in his brain sped up, and in each passing second you could see further recognition in him, till his eyes turned to the rope knotted around the pillar.

He said nothing––simply moved forward, glanced out and down the balcony, and turned back to you.

"You were trying to escape?" He asked you, nothing behind the tone of his voice, which might as well have been as bad as any anger he could've unleashed.

"I told you I could keep you safe here," he continued, and you, in your head, connected dots that suddenly appeared. He would never let you outside his room now––now that his point has been proven. "See what happens when you disobey?"

You blinked and he was standing in front of you, close enough that every inhale of his chest brushed against your shirt. At first you tried to step away, but he moved to cup your face, keeping you frozen in your spot. Your terrified eyes stared into his.

"The next time you try to leave here without me, I shall have to intervene myself, if you do not hurt yourself on your own as you so often do. Do you understand me?"

You nodded. There was nothing else you could do, not with your throat so tight you could barely swallow.

"I obviously cannot trust you," he said, his gaze flickering between your eyes.

He left you standing in the middle of the room as he went to one of his chests, pulling and unlocking the latch before the creak of hinges sounded in the room. You turned to watch in both interest and worry, patiently waiting for his reveal, before he turned back to you with rope in his hands.

As per usual, your first instinct was to bolt out the door. Your feet practically itched with the tension stored up in them, but you stayed perfectly still, terrified into submission as he pulled you forward. You almost stumbled, but before you could fully do so he pushed you onto his bed. Quickly you moved from your stomach to your back, creeping backwards on the bed as he drew nearer, the rope drawn taut between his hands. Kneeling on the bed with his head held high above yours, he was an opposite from the lovesick King you had first met.

He tied your wrists to the bedpost and you let him. He pulled the knots so tight and intricate there was no hope you could get out without breaking the rope, and you let him.

"I can keep you safe here," he murmured, lodged between your legs with his lips against your temple. Your heart stormed hell in your chest. "You will stay here. Any attempt on your behalf to leave and I will have to punish you. Understand?"

"Then I am a prisoner," you said, your voice hoarse and broken.

"You are what you make yourself," he said in a much more stern tone, looking down at you with knowing, wary eyes. "If it is a prisoner, then so be it. But you will be, throughout all actions and situations, mine."

"I..."

"You belong to me."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

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saikagerights · 4 years ago

Text

Lay Me Down to Rest - Entry for Day of MirSan 2021

Hello there! And welcome to my first Inuyasha fanfiction, as apart of the @dayofmirsan event.

I initially was planning to be an observer of the event, but sudden inspiration struck at 1am during my nightly routine of falling asleep to Inuyasha. Rewatching the Monkey Sprite episode is interesting for many reasons. For one, there was an unhealthy amount of filler added into the anime adaptation of this story-line, which gave hit-or-miss comedy. But the most important thing is that Miroku and Sango are mostly unaccounted for in this story-line, which gives shippers like me an opportunity to write some “off-screen development” for them. And though the anime does give us an idea, I’m afraid that Miroku’s indifference and frustrated edge in the scene feels a bit off, so I decided to add a bit of a bit of context. Consider this a bit of a fusion between the anime in manga, though the scene is based off of the anime. Also I was very liberal with my use of English/Japanese dub terminology. I watched the anime in English, but switched over to the manga to replace the Final Act, so it’s a bit inconsistent.

I’ve been observing this fandom from afar ever since I started getting into Inuyasha back in December, and though I wanted to try and engage with it, it seemed very daunting given this fandom’s age and organization. But I’m very grateful that I was given the chance to participate in this event, and lucky that inspiration struck me at the right time. I’ve really been looking forward to seeing the works that come out of this event, and I hope you enjoy my contribution.

And thanks for the mods for allowing me to share my work with you fellow fans

InuYasha and it’s properties are owned by creator Rumiko Takahashi and Sunrise

Read on AO3

Sango tailed the monk as he led their investigation. The villagers they had asked so far had no knowledge of the wicked demon, only of the pestering monkeys that were ravaging their fields. Her companion simply nodded, thanking them for their time and promising that the Inugami would save their village. They soon found themselves at the outskirts of the village on an empty patch of land outside the forest, save for one tall tree. Sango found his behavior during their search to be strange, especially as he now paused at the tree, leaving his Shakujo leaning against its trunk.

Was he just as stumped as she was? Would this reprieve be a chance for them to rethink their approach?

“Why have we stopped here, Miroku?” She questioned. “Aren’t we supposed to search for Naraku’s whereabouts?”

Her befuddlement heightened as he laid his body to rest in the grass underneath the shade of the tree with a sigh, both hands pillowing his head. His intentions then became clear at the sight of his eyelids slipping shut.

“How might we do that when we have neither Inuyasha’s nose or Kagome’s detection?” His tone reflected his relaxed poise. “I merely said that so that Inuyasha would be more inclined to help those villagers.”

Her head tilted downward towards the monk’s resting face. “I understand wanting to help, but do you honestly think that Inuyasha dealing with those monkeys will get us any closer to finding him?

“Not particularly.” He punctuated the off-handed remark with a yawn, overstating his disinterest. “But enough of that... Why don’t you join me here?”

She stood awestruck at his bold request. He lays there while their friends were helping this poor village and now he asks her to do the same? If Inuyahsa were to find out, he’d surely have more pressing things to worry about than the food security of the village.

“I don’t think it would be wise, considering your flippant lies.”

The man remained still, no sign of concern disrupting his posture.

“If you changed back into your battle attire before our return, they’d never suspect a thing.” He ignored her statement, a peaceful smile casually appearing on his face. She instantly recognized this move. He was fully convinced he would get his way, the sleazy crook. “Besides, I’m sure sleep has been as kind to you as it has been to me as of late.”

Although it was usually hard to detect amongst his manner of speaking, the monk’s sarcasm was not missed by the slayer. She knew very well that Naraku’s sudden disappearance had their whole group on edge, including herself. And while sleep had become its own battle, the desperate investigations of their enemy have left her distracted from everything else. Sleep meant the rest needed to fight again, but it also meant time alone with one’s most intimate thoughts. What always plagued her mind nowadays were things she’d rather not willingly engage. Finding Naraku should be her biggest concern now, but she indulged her companion despite what she would consider was her better judgement.

The monk had a particular talent for steering her away from rationality.

“Knowing your pervy ways, I’m sure you’d try and sneak a peek at me”

The monk could’ve never noticed the sneer on her face behind his still-closed eyes. The same smile was plastered on his face as well, despite her accusation. He really did enjoy giving her grief, didn’t he...

“Trust me, my dear. I have no intention of moving from this spot for a while. Or at least until Inuyasha comes for my head.”

“Then I guess you wouldn’t mind if I left Kilala here to guard this spot until I returned.”

He chuckled at that. “I don’t mind at all. I’m sure she’d love to watch me lie here, right Kilala?”

Sango looked to the nekomata, who merely chuffed in response. She was wary of Kilala’s strange trust in the monk at times, but she was sure that the demon would keep an eye on him in case he tried something funny.

Miroku took this as the perfect time to reveal his indigo eyes to her.

“Please, my intentions are more honorable than what they seem, believe me.”

There it was, that gentle voice of his used to convince her of his authenticity. The same breathy tones that sent her heart racing and her stomach in somersaults. She knew Miroku was confident in his charms, but she also liked to think that he was fully aware of this game they played. She only came to grips with it recently, but there was something going on.

They’d fight, they’d talk it through, and just when she thought he would try to make a move, that damn hand of his would find the wrong place to caress. Or it would be when she found herself grieving once more, and he could comfort her with his words alone. How did he always know what to say that made everything clear and could heal every fiber of her being, but also had a hand that never failed to do the exact opposite? He was a truly frustrating man, but he was the only one she ever considered more than just that.

But did he really know? That was a puzzle Sango couldn’t solve. It wasn’t as if anything meaningful resulted from these escapades. Afterwards, they would act as if nothing happened, and he would return to his typical flirtatious ways with any woman that entered his line of sight. So Sango liked to think that Miroku fully knew that he was toying with her feelings. That way it made it easier to lower her expectations and resent them despite Kagome’s not-so-subtle prodding.

When she became abruptly aware that her eyes had been locked on him for too long, she made her hasty retreat, hoping he didn’t catch her bright red flush in the shade of the tree.

“This man will be the death of me,” she softly cursed herself as soon as she knew she left his earshot.

_______________________________________________________________

Upon her return to their little “spot,” she was greeted by an alert Miroku. His body was now fully upright and turned towards her approaching form.

“You’ve accepted my invitation, I see”

“I thought you were trying to sleep”

“I still am, but I’d figured it would help if I got a quick glimpse of your beauty before-hand.”

She rolled her eyes at his shameless attempt. “You really are troublesome, you know that?”

“You wound me, dear Sango!” He unceremoniously flopped back into his previous position, his left hand patting the spot next to him. “You are free to lie beside me if you wish.”

Without the need for consideration, she silently opted to sit against Kilala’s curled form, stretching her legs in front of her. He managed to convince her to relax alongside him, but she had no intention of allowing herself to get too comfortable around him in the likely case the monk’s wandering hands wandered once more. He sighed audibly at her decision, but allowed his eyes to close again without any further word. He could act like a child all he wanted, but she would not budge.

She watched the man for a while, observing his state of rest. She could tell as much that he hadn’t fallen asleep just yet by all of his idle noises and the way he kept trying to steal a glance in her direction.

“Can’t sleep?”

She hadn’t even tried to close her eyes just yet, as she was still trying to grasp their current situation. Why was he so insistent on sleeping if he was just going to try and stare at her the entire afternoon? Why did he lie to Inuyasha in the first place if this was how they would spend their time? With all these questions moving around in her head, she might as well ask for the most basic of them.

“Miroku? Why do you lie and steal as casually as you do? I always thought that monks were pure-hearted.”

“What a wonderful question!” He exclaimed. With such enthusiasm, she was almost afraid of the answer she would soon receive from him. “I’ve been traveling on my own for so long, and it’s quite difficult to acquire wealth in such unfortunate times. I wish to give aid to those in need, but I also believe that it never hurts to help yourself as well.” He settled for an even tone and let his eyes slip open once more.

“And you are right, It is true that holy-people such as myself are meant to be free of sin. But, I was born tainted by the hole that resides in my hand.” His voice tapered off at his pause, the newfound silence growing thick with each passing moment. His sound returned to him, soft and low, as if it were only meant for his ears alone.

“It doesn’t matter how much I devote myself to my faith to any idol or deity. My curse is hell-bent on deciding my fate....”

But we are trying to stop Naraku! To free you from the Kazaana. You can always change your path after that! She immediately contested, perhaps a little too loudly, but she didn’t care. How dare he speak so little of himself and avoid her gaze as he did it?! She refused to accept his belittling statements.

“It is very hard for me to see a future for myself at this time, I’m afraid…” He brought his head up to look at her. A flash of fear ran through his eyes before he looked down once more. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t speak like that.”

He’s afraid…

And he had every right to be.

“Please don’t apologize.”

He never showed it in front of their group, but behind that calm and smooth exterior remained a man trembling under the weight of his own mortality. He was a man after all, and men were never to show what made them most vulnerable. But with how much he gives to help others, it feels unfair for him to just allow himself to suffer inside as he did.

If they understood each other as well as he liked to claim, then she knew he hated the restless feeling they had knowing nothing of where their wicked nemesis resided, surely plotting something to exploit the fears he caused within their hearts. Knowing that her poor brother remained in that demon’s grasp sickened her to her core, and sitting around with no leads made it hard to lay dormant as they did now.

“I get it. I am just as frustrated as you… About Kohaku-”

“-You don’t need to go any further” He interrupted her thoughts, I didn’t mean to remind you of your pain like that.”

“Miroku-”

“-Please,” he sharply cut in once more, hoarseness settling into his throat. He must’ve noticed it as well, as he cleared his throat soon after. “let’s just try to find rest while we still can.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, clearly trying to force unconsciousness upon himself. Sango relented, trying to relax her body, idly stroking Kilala as she watched the man slowly succumb to rest. It was surreal to see him struggle like this when it seemed like meditation was second nature to him. She decided on trying for sleep once his breathing evened out and all the remaining tension left his face.

________________________________________________________________

Miroku wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep, but he could tell from the shadows before him had grown considerably when his eyes peered open. He turned his head to see Sango now curled up against Kilala, her face all but buried in her demon companion’s fur. He slowly rose to his feet, slightly stretching as he made an intake of his surroundings. It looked as if the sun would soon begin it’s retreat from the sky. The monk knew the rest was necessary, but he definitely didn’t look forward to another predictively sleepless night.

One more glance at Sango’s sleeping form was enough to convince him to approach her, neglecting his Shakujo to silence his movements. He knew, probably better than anybody, of the threat imposed by the slayer’s attuned senses. He also knew the danger of being caught if she awoke to his gawking. Unfortunately it was a risk he was willing for one small fleeting moment to stare at her.

What an idiot he had been for making her sympathize with his life. Even worse that it reminded her of her own grief. He was happy to indulge her curiosity, but when he looked up at her, he turned cowardly at what he saw. It wasn’t fear, or sadness over his grim fate. It was the very same fire that lit behind her eyes in battle.

She was prepared to fight for him, it seemed…

He dare not think that she would go any farther for that. He was not worth her death. In fact, nothing was worth her death. The honor of her clan was at stake, and her life was essential in carrying on their legacy. One measly itinerant monk with a fated death should be worthless in her eyes, even if he wanted nothing more than to keep her alive.

Even if he wanted more than anything to see a future with her.

He turned away from her, returning to his spot in a now seated position. The monk had half a mind to wake the woman, but decided against it. Every waking moment for her was its own battle, after all. She needed all the rest she could get. And he’d gladly wait for her until that battle resumed, and fight with her at every step.

And if dying for her now meant he could spend the next life by her side, then he would welcome death with open arms.

“I hope this woman is the death of me,” he softly wished before all else melted away to his own meditation.

______________________________________________________________

Yeah I realized I took some liberties here with how Miroku and Sango’s relationship was at this point. This episode takes place after the Temptress of the Mist and Demon-Head castle, but far behind Mt. Hakurei, so what was going on with them hadn’t really become a “pattern” just yet. And Miroku had just comforted her in her grieving state for the first time right before that. Sango wasn’t deep enough to say he was her reason for living, so that’s why I kept her on the fence and didn’t have her feel too disappointed, because that’s what came after Mt Hakurei.

I’m a sucker for long winded perspective changes, especially here with all the parallels I draw between them. Some of my best lines were written here, especially the ending line. My GOD. I swear, I wrote that and everything made sense. I said “yes” over and over again, it was so good.

Also can you tell whose voice I’m talking about when describing Miroku’s? The answer is Koji Tsujitani. I always knew about Tsujitani’s delivery that makes Miroku sound truly “fake” but I noticed rather recently how he would add so much breath, especially in serious scenes. On the other hand, Kirby Morrow played the character down and deep in his throat, which isn’t bad when talking about his overall performance, but I decided to favor Tsujitani’s performance in this instance.

(I’m a classically trained singer and a music education major, so I’m a nut for analyzing voice acting. I have respect for both of these men may they rest in peace.)

Thanks again for the opportunity, and I hope to write more for this series.

-Saikage

#inuyasha #mirsan #mirsan day #dayofmirsan2021 #Miroku #Sango

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peach-the-owl · 4 years ago

Note

Thanks for answering my earlier ask.

May I request Essek with a child sorcerer reader who was traveling with the M9 for a while but decides to stay with him because they always get scared when they get into battle. And when the M9 come back to visit Essek has pretty much adopted the reader and does almost anything she asks for.

(人 •͈ᴗ•͈)

I am here for this, it sounds absolutley adorable. First time writing for Essek and I may have gotten a little carried away, it ended up being longer then I thought. Here’s hoping this turns out well 😅

Shadowhands Apprentice

Essek & Child!Sorcerer!Reader

The Mighty Nein had found you locked up after dealing with some creepy cult deep in the Barbed Fields. You told them they used you as a source of energy because of your rare and strong natural magic, using Identify Caleb discovered that you were in fact a Runechild. You had no known family, as far as you were aware of and nowhere to go so they decided to take you along with them. Your experience with the cult had left you very jumpy whenever the group had to engage in battle, fearing you could be taken and used for something awful. When the party finally made it to the city of Rosohna you got to meet the mysterious Essek they’ve told you about. They explained the situation to him once he noticed you cowering behind Jester, and he took quick interest in you since. Visiting frequently during your stay in the Xhorhaus to mostly teach Caleb more dunamancy, you grew quite curious about this new magic and asked if you could learn some too. Given your natural talent it didn’t take much for Essek to agree to start teaching you as well. Letting you quickly get more comfortable around him.

"Do we have to leave?" You whine a bit. The Nein had finished with there stay and were getting ready to leave to attend to duties they'd been called to elsewhere.

"We told you we couldn’t stay long. We have other jobs to do too." Jester tries to explain, you pout and cross your arms to try and calm the nervous shaking in your body. There’s a soft knocking at the door, Fjord goes over to answer it and just outside is the floating drow you’ve become so well acquainted with. After a mutual greeting Fjord steps aside and let’s Essek in.

"I have come to bid you all a farewell and good luck in your travels." He addresses to everyone. "I hope you will keep well to your studies?" He addresses more to you and Caleb, you fidget a bit, the question on your mind eating away at you if you should ask it or not.

"Of course." Caleb gives a nod. Everyone starts making their way out but pause when you don’t follow.

"You coming (y/n)?" Beau raises an eyebrow at you.

"Can I stay here with Essek?" You blurt out quickly, causing the man in question to go stiff and everyone else to stare. After a long pause you speak up again. "It’s scary and dangerous out there, but I feel safe here. I don’t want to leave." They all look amongst each other.

"That would really have to be Essek's decision." You look over at the him with big pleading eyes, making it very hard for him to break eye contact.

"Please, I promise I’ll be a good listener and you can teach me more spells." After a long pause he runs a hand through his hair and gives a quiet sigh.

"I suppose it would be beneficial for this chance to learn more about your natural abilities." He says. You give a smile and with that you bid farewell to the Nein and are left alone with the Shadowhand. "I have some important business that needs attending to first, I shall return once I have completed my duties. In the meantime I suggest you stay here and practice what you already know." You give a nod and watch as he too leaves the Xhorhaus, the chimes jingling softly as he does.

Days slowly turned into weeks and you had setup a nice routine. In the mornings Essek would arrive for breakfast, at first they were silent but after the first week the two of you started to talk more, discussing different forms of magic, the barrage of Message spells you’d get from Jester or how eachothers day was (the latter taking a little more time to work up to). The afternoon was when Essek would have to leave you alone for awhile to attend to his duties to the Bright Queen, though as the days progressed he became more and more reluctant on wanting to leave you alone. Finally he’d return around the evening and you’d spend the rest of your time learning different spells or discovering more about your magical origin before you’d get worn out and head to bed. Sometimes you’d wake up the next day to find that Essek had stayed the night to help keep an eye on the place, or at least that’s what he’d tell you. It was a simple but pleasant routine for you and over time you noticed him become more comfortable around you, going as far as to drop the levitation act whenever he’d visit.

It was a bit conflicting for Essek to be so close to someone, and a child no less too. He had to be careful around you, trying so hard to not get too comfortable around you but with each passing day it was becoming harder and harder. He didn’t want to let you into the darker secrets of his life, but you were the first person he felt he could let down some of his guard to, knowing a child didn’t care if he was being absolutely professional or not. As worried as he was about this there was something else deep down that just felt nice having you around. Seeing you learn new things and showing him your accomplishments filled him with a feeling of pride and joy he didn’t know he could've ever experienced before. The weeks had grown into a solid month and today Essek had decided to do something different.

"Why are we in the market again?" You questioned curiously. Essek gives an amused hum.

"I thought you said you’d be a good listener for me." He gives you a side look, you give him a playful glare as he hovers ahead making you have to jog to catch up.

"You said there was something waiting for us and that’s it."

"Precisely," you open your mouth to say something but he stops you. "Hush now, we’re here." You look up at the building.

"A tailor shop?" You look up at him confused, he doesn’t say anything and enters the shop with you following close behind. Essek talks with the shop owner while you look around at the different outfits that inhabited the shop, looking over the intricate designs of the fabrics.

"Here we are, just as you requested sir." You switch your attention over to the shopkeeper who hands a small folded bundle over to Essek. He nods to the shopkeeper letting them go about their own business and moves over towards you.

"There should be a fitting room just past the curtain, I’d like to make sure this fits you properly." Essek says, handing you the bundle of clothing.

"This is really for me?" You ask, looking from Essek to the cloths in your arms. He gives you a nod, the ghost of a smile on his lips, you beam at him and scurry over to change into the new outfit. The outfit was made of a silky material, with beautiful patterns stitched in throughout and it came with a lovely flowing robe for overtop. You had no problems changing and once you stepped out and had a better look at yourself in the mirror, you could see a close resemblance to Essek's own outfit in yours. "Wow, I look just like you now." You give him a smile.

"Hold on, it appears you are missing something." You look at him confused until he comes closer and lets himself kneel down to match your height. You feel something cool get placed onto you head, turning back to the mirror you find that an intricately crafted silver circlet was the item in question. You just stare in awe as you trace over the design. "This circlet should help you with your focus when you are casting spells." Essek comments, the smile on your face widens and you turn to give him a hug.

"Thank you, I love it sooo much." You can feel his body turn stiff so you let go and after a minute he gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder and gets up from his kneeling position back to floating around again.

"You're welcome. However it’s only best you dress in the appropriate attire if you are to be accompanying me throughout the day." You tilt your head a little as you try to figure out what this meant, when it clicks in your mind your smile returns.

"Does that mean I get to go with you when you have to do your job?"

"You are allowed to stay in the library, it is easier for me to keep an eye on you that way while still preforming my duties." You bounce on your feet in excitment, library’s were cool and filled with all sorts of stories to read and getting to spend even just a little more time with Essek was always nice to you.

You’re escorted to the library and immediately looked through the large selection of books it had to offer while Essek went about his usual business, now being able to check in on you more frequently. You acquainted yourself with the librarian who was able to help direct you to anything they had within your interest. One of the books you were looking for was on a high shelf, so you simply used the provided ladder to reach it. Another occupant in the library was kind enough to offer and help, you thank them but waved them off saying you could do it all by yourself. The book was just out of your reach, however being so high up you didn’t want to climb all the way back down just to move the ladder over a small ways and climb all the way back up. Instead you thought it’d be a good idea to hold onto one of the rungs and lean over a bit to reach your objective, you end up leaning too far and loose your footing, plummeting to the ground with a yelp, taking a few books with you. Quickly throwing your arms over your face to sheid yourself and wait for the impact, when it never happens you slowly, shakily remove your arms and crack open your eyes to see that you were hovering mere inches from the ground. Looking over your shoulder you see none other then Essek, a look of shock and concern on his face, arm outstretched towards you, a faint glow to his hand as he had used his magic to catch you. With a swift and fluid motion you’re gently placed upright on the ground as he drifts towards you.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" He asks with concern laced into his words, checking you over to make sure you were okay. Unable to form words you motion with your hands for him to come closer, he immediately complies by kneeling down to reach your height. Without missing a beat, once he’s reached your level you wrap your arms around his neck in a hug and let out quiet sobs. Still not used to the physical contact causes Essek to stiffen up a bit. There's slight tremors that still raked through your body and after a moment he slowly, carefully returns the hug, lifting you both up in the process. Adjusting himself so he can hold you with one arm he waves his free hand placing back the books that had fallen with you and bringing down the one you had been trying to grab and stores it away for later.

"Thank you." Your voice comes out softly as you finally found your words again.

"No need to thank me." He replies just as softly. "Would you like to know something?" You perk your head up off his shoulder to look at him. "The Mighty Nein have returned." This perks you up even more.

"Can we go say hi?" You ask, but get the feeling you already knew the answer.

"Of course." With that, he weaves his way back out of the library and off towards the Xhorhaus, all while still carrying you safely in his arms.

When you saw the Nein they happily greeted you and instantly started to comment on your new apparel, some of them also took quick notice to the change in Essek's behaviour around you and mercilessly tried to question him about it. You asked how their adventures were so far and they told you about them and some of the problems they’re currently dealing with. You then got to tell them all about what you’ve been up to and how your abilities have developed so far. After some more casual banter the Nein prepare to settle in for the night having been through a long day and needing a rest, you start to make your way up as well but are stopped by a hand placed on your shoulder.

"Exactly where do you think you're going?" Essek raises a questioning eyebrow at you.

"Up to bed?" You reply confused. You hear a faint chuckle come from him.

"I think our friends have had a long day and the last thing they need is our early morning routine interfering with their schedule." He explains, surprising you by picking you up into his arm unprompted.

"Then where are we going?" You ask as the two of you exit the abode. His reply to you brings a smile to your face.

"Home."

Did I over do it? I hope not, but I’m really sorry if I did and if I made it drag on too long 😖

#critical role #critical role & reader #mighty nein #the mighty nein #mighty nein & reader #essek thelyss #essek & reader #nothing romantic here

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icefire149 · 3 years ago

Note

so this is kinda very random (if it's too random or too hard to write no pressure to do it) but I was thinking of #12 from the "i love you" prompts for hannah x charlie (i don't know what their ship name is or if they have one lol)

Hi there! I'm sorry this took a while to get to. I can't emphasize enough how exciting this was to work with. I know when you asked for this there were a couple posts going around with this ship and that was the first time I ever considered Hannah/Charlie. I really hope more people explore their dynamic more. I enjoyed taking a crack at it here.

I'm sorry if it's not what you were hoping for. From start to finish this took a crazy number of turns that I wasn't expecting. It kept worming away into it's own thing. Right off the bat the spring time part of the prompt flew away. Still, I hope you enjoy it <3

#12 – When we lay together on the fresh spring grass – Hannah/Charlie

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

The seasons were rapidly changing from summer to autumn. Any human today would know from a single look at a calendar. It was strange sometimes to think of how far humans have come since the garden and how much of the world they’ve been able to understand through reason and design. For Hannah, she knew from the moment the Earth shifted under her feet. And now the composition of the air just wasn’t the same as it was a week ago. Shortly, even the humans and the trees would start to notice the change in temperature.

It was normal. Routine. The world kept spinning day into night and summer into autumn, and so forth. Since being flung back into the crown jewel of her father’s creation, Hannah couldn’t help but wander back to some of her earliest thoughts. She could still remember her hesitation when the spark of creation breathed life into mortality.

At the time she hadn’t the experiences or the vocabulary to explain her abstract feelings, but now she could equate the feeling to the sharp sting of a slap to the face or a thorn lodged in the heel of her foot. The Earth cycled seasons and spun around the Sun. The garden sprouted leaves, fruits, and flowers that quickly shriveled and crumbled before sprouting forth again. The humans were built with a carefully constructed system of oxygen, blood, and electrical impulses cycling around the body. It was marvelous to behold, but what was an immortal, unchanging being supposed to read between the lines?

Her father created the archangels long before everything else she knew. The rest of her siblings were made lesser, but until more recently she always believed they were still just as loved. Maybe she was just blinded by her grief and denial. Everything mortal came next, but humans were the ones her father plucked and planted in his favorite garden.

It was because of the humans that her father started altering her siblings. All of them. She never knew what the end goal was to vessels until all of Heaven had to confront the ugly truth: their father left them eons ago. And now, every time Hannah was caught in a crowd, she couldn’t help but wonder if the person who’s eyes lingered the longest was the one who’s skin and bone he’d slipped under.

“Of course! I can’t believe you’ve never done this,” Charlie turned her head on the ground to face her. The tip of her nose twitched as a blade of grass bounced free from the rest laying under her cheek.

“Since the fall there just wasn’t time for something so trivial,” Hannah answered, moving her gaze back up to the clouds slowly rolling by. “And before that…..every angel had a job and that’s just what we did. Nothing more.”

Moments like these were still completely foreign and strange to her. A month ago Castiel received a phone call during their travels, and suddenly their mission was no longer the top priority. Locating the wayward angels was still her mission, and she spent much of her time at the Winchester’s bunker researching while he…..focused on curing the mark of Cain.

It wasn’t the ideal situation or even the one she’d hoped for. It dimmed her and diminished herself to a flatline, because a part of her dared to hope that Castiel could offer her companionship. He was her friend, but he’d stuck by her and saw her in a way that Hannah wasn’t expecting again. Not since the siblings she’d lost when the Winchester’s came onto Heaven’s radar. She tried to establish a connection, even using human methods she’d observed from her vessel’s memory, but he just wasn’t receptive. Nothing clicked until she observed Castiel around the human men he gave everything up for.

Whenever he was in proximity to Dean, his true form would come alive in ways she’d never expected. Despite the damage done to his being, Castiel would still twist, and turn, and hum in ways that were almost too much to bear witness to. And she knew that he was trying to keep himself from doing that in her presence. A part of her liked to think it was because he was trying to spare her feelings since he just didn’t connect with her in that way, but she knew it was because he was embarrassed and desolate. As humans would put it: he wore his heart openly on his sleeve. But, it was beyond the limitations of human perspective.

But since staying at the bunker, Hannah had met a handful of humans. Mostly over the phone, but it was a Miss Charlie Bradbury that showed up one day at the bunker's entrance with a dozen movies and snacks, and a very puzzled look. Since then she’d been a frequent presence during Hannah's research.

And a welcome one at that. At first Hannah wasn’t sure what to make of the exuberant woman. Charlie would talk for hours about a million different things. It was odd to try to conceptualize how many ideas a human brain could hold, and Hannah spent an entire night doing just that after a busy afternoon that rolled into a busier evening discussing the delicacies of numbers and computer programming.

Hannah still wasn't sure how computers could help her mission, but there was something about Charlie's confidence in her own abilities that the angel couldn't help but automatically placing her faith in the human.

“What was your job before things started getting crazy? Dean says Cas was a soldier.”

“He was. He still is,” Hannah started. “I...I wasn’t built for the front lines. My duty was what the majority of the host was given: protect and watch over the souls in Heaven.”

Charlie’s eyebrows pinched together. “That’s it?”

“Of course.” Hannah sat up. She could feel the grains of dirt on the palms of her hands and particles caught in her hair. The rays of late afternoon sun reflected off the surface of Charlie’s car and made her pupils contract. Frowning, she turned to move the nearby road out of her periphery. “It’s one of the most important jobs in Heaven. Each soul generates their own paradise from their stored memories. Maintaining that happiness is everything."

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

Charlie rolled over so that she was laying on her stomach now. One of her feet kicked up and moved idly in the air. The corner of her mouth twitched until it decided to curve into a teasing smile.

Hannah still didn’t understand what connections Charlie was clearly making. It was utterly confusing. “I don’t understand,” finally she admitted out loud.

“Did watching over the souls make you happy?”

Hannah’s head fell to the side. This wasn’t the first time Charlie had asked her something that made her stop and reevaluate several aspects of herself and her memory. And just like the last few times it elicited a tiny pulse, a thrill, through her being. It started when she realized that Charlie kept purposely putting herself into the angel’s orbit. Charlie seemed like she genuinely wanted to know her.

“What?” Charlie’s smile widened.

“You asked an incredibly unusual and strange question. My happiness is irrelevant. That’s much more of a human thing. Angels weren’t built for that. But-” Hannah thought about those old days and the souls under her watchful eye. She enjoyed that privilege to bear witness to their joys. She could still remember the way her wings would puff with pride. “I did find great joy in my work.”

“I’m glad,” Charlie said, before laying her head down in the grass. There was a note of sadness buried deep in her tone.

They sat like that in meditative silence for a while, and the sun dipped further in the sky. Finally, Charlie continued, “You know, people think angels are watching over us while we’re living. Like you guys are ready to jump out and help us when….when we need someone most.”

The idea put a soft smile on Hannah’s face. “It’s a lovely notion.”

“A pipe-dream,” Charlie frowned.

“Well, there were angels stationed here on Earth with the job to watch. That might be where that very idea came from.”

That put a look of surprise on Charlie’s face. “But do they help?”

“Not unless Heaven commands it, and that….” She shook her head.

Charlie sighed deeply before standing. She started brushing the dirt clinging to her jeans away.

“You wish for divine intervention.”

Charlie’s surprise quickly morphed into something unreadable. She kept silent.

Hannah stood up, and for some reason it pained her to see the light dim in Charlie’s being. “I’m sorry,” she said keeping her gaze locked with Charlie’s. And she meant it, truly. “You needed help beyond human capabilities, and no one was there. You were alone.”

Charlie nodded, and led them back to the car. They drove in silence and Hannah spent the entire time trying to figure out what went wrong. Again, and again she replayed that final conversation, but humans were still too difficult to puzzle out.

It wasn’t until they were back within the bunker walls that Charlie’s demeanor seemed to equalize back to normal. She brightened even more meeting Hannah’s eye. “Thank you for that.”

“Of course,” Hannah answered. She honestly wasn’t sure for what exactly, but her instincts told her it was about their last conversation. And that was all she needed to lift her spirits after that car ride.

Charlie took a few hesitant steps towards the hallway that led to her room. She looked over her shoulder. “Will you still be around tomorrow?”

“Mmhm,” she hummed happily. Charlie asked her that same question every day since they met. She wasn’t sure why, but she enjoyed the extra burst of light that would emanate from Charlie’s soul the moment she gave the same answer.

Ask me more writing prompts (I’m using these as warm ups so send a number and a ship)

#spn #my writing #i'm sorry there wasn't a direct i love you. this ended up being more about the promise of a love blooming #the idea of beings who have been hurt and left alone wanting to connect. wanting to be seen and recognized.#i hope that was okay enough

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absoluteindulgence · 4 years ago

Text

Paradise (BNHA POC!CUTIES COLLAB)

Happy Black History, Honeys!!! I’ve spent the last 12 hours working on this and I’m still unsure of the finished product, please if you like what read don’t be shy to comment (or if you didn’t DM me, constructive criticism. I haven’t written a story in a while so have mercy lol) Characters are Aged Up🆙 but it’s fluff? I tried my hand at Ludus but can’t say I executed it right lol. Thanks in advance to everyone that reads it! I’m gonna go pass out now, respectfully.

The time you spent together always resorted to some kind of new fun. Always smiles and laughter, learning something new about each other. You didn't spend a lot of time together during your days of being highschool kids, but after some time apart and rekindling something most may call "Puppy Love," you've been finding more reasons to get out of bed.

Kirishima was strong and kind-hearted when you knew him back at U.A., Giving off the proper sentiment that would make you believe in yourself. It's kind of embarrassing how hooked you were to each other's personality, painstakingly apparent to your other classmates wishing for you two to just date but never doing so. Resulting in the classic 'Will They, Won't They' trope annoying everyone; Only to continue like that in your young adult years. Pushing your childlike fun on each other, date after date.

You woke up early, just to get a sense of the mid-winter weather. Still wearing your pajamas, you opened the window near your bed; the brisk air immediately greeted your room with little atonement to your mildly groggy body. You shivered right away, knowing that even though the sun was high in the sky, the wind would be unforgiving until the afternoon. Promptly doing your beauty routine, you dressed warmly and threw your hair under a cute beanie Kirishima had bought you for Christmas. Eager to meet at the station with your Red-haired date. It would be the first date you would've had in weeks, and ironically enough, on Valentines' Day.

As you reached the meetup station, he was already there, fifteen minutes earlier than when you two were supposed to meet. This was typical for him, and many times you had tried to beat him to the punch, but he was always one step ahead. As you got closer, he raised his head from staring at his phone screen, reciprocating the smile plastered on your face as you hugged him.

"Hey, Little Miss Cozy, you look great!" His sharky grin made your heart pulse.

"Aw, thank you, you don't look bad yourself, Kiri" You glanced at his outfit; he looked so stylish! His PR team has really helped him with his image since he graduated, and now he looks like he belongs in a sophisticated J-pop group. "I'm so glad we're hanging out today!"

"Yeah, me too. Too much work and not enough play are bad for the body!" He dramatically sighed as you playfully pursed your lips in agreeance, and in return, he held your hand through your winter knitted mittens, "Plus, I missed my partner in crime."

Your face heated up from the sweet confession just to retort with, "I feel the same way, Handsome."

His raspy chuckle coming right after as he casually brushed his red hair back with his fingers. Kirishima had promised to make it the best day you could ever have on the holiday. Planning something you didn't even expect; an indoor Ice Skating rink. It would be your first time engaging in the sport, and you were anxious. Unsure about your own elegance and precision to be the best on ice. But he reassured that it would be a fun experience nonetheless, and you believed it would.

"Don't worry, Cutie, if at any point you think you're gonna fall, just hold me tighter." With his graciously, flirtatious wink, you were blushing, with a demure grin.

After traveling to the venue, Kirishima greeted the clerk who would be taking your admission tickets. Right after, you two went to the counter where you get sized up for the Ice Skates. After getting them, you were slightly frantic on how to tie them, bewildered by the laces and hooks. Kirishima saw how confused you were, lightly chuckling at your frantic fingers working so hard to figure it out on your own.

"Hey, don't stress yourself out before you get on the ice, let me help.'' He squatted close to your feet just to help settle your feet into the rented skates. They were a perfect fit, and as he helped, he looked up to beam at you. "You know I feel like the Prince of your story, ready to whisk you away after knowing that the shoe fits you so perfectly."

How smooth, you thought to yourself. Physically flustered and speechless, you had no cheeky rebuttal. Which only made the buff redhead break out into laughter. So many times, did his bold flirts silence you and make your heart flutter. But it was one of your favorite traits that he had. After getting your shoes on, you held his hand the whole way to the rink, continually repeating, "Don't let me fall, okay?"

"Of course, My Princess" He nodded kindly, taking on his role of 'Prince' too seriously. Bringing you to almost trip as you tried to hide your face. "Hey, at least wait till we get on the ice."

Another carefree chuckle leaving his toned body, making you happy to enjoy this experience with him. Getting to the rink may have been a battle, but now you were finally getting onto the ice, working your legs slowly to steady under the frozen ice. Not wanting to move too fast and create an inconvenience for anyone enjoying the rink. Gradually, you took a breath, calming down, as you held Kirishima's hand tighter. He smiled so warmly the whole time you focused on getting comfortable on the ice. The patience he carried just to keep you feeling safe and secure made its way into your heart, knowing that there was no malice energy.

"Are you ready, Princess?" Finally finding your footing, you nod. "Okay, then I'll teach you the basics."

His skating directions are so thorough and straightforward that you're able to follow them and feel like you can execute each move flawlessly. He politely assists you with your stances, placing his big, callous hands onto your waist gently just to help you find the proper posture to keep you from falling. It's fun learning how to do it, but now you're eager to start, and Kirishima can tell.

"Okay, Princess, that's all I have to share. Let's have some fun!" He holds your hand firmly as you slowly glide around the skating rink, feeling your legs space out naturally to create the best gliding and position one leg in front of the other. "See, you know what you're doing!"

Your childlike smile shoots Kirishima straight in the heart as you make the first steps to skating like a pro. He knew you were a fast learner and always admired that. Your persistence to learn something new was fascinating to him. You would start off anxiously and felt as if you didn't know what you were doing. But once you had the chance to shine, you left no skill invalidated.

"Hey Kiri, you think we can go a little faster? I wanna get some more momentum and see if we can do a trick!"

"W-what, you sure you want to try that on your first time at a skating rink? Certain moves require being a professional figure skater… Which we aren’t."

"You have a point, but we should still try anyway," You smile with reassurance, "We didn't graduate from U.A. not to be durable in various conditions!"

You raise your other arm showing off the muscle you gained from being a student at the number one school. Kirishima looked a little bewildered, thinking that your ideology doesn't equate to ice skating whatsoever, but he agreed that you weren't wrong. U.A. definitely had their trials, and you were put through many of them as a first-year.

"I mean, just look at that couple; they're so graceful, and I think we can do that!"

You pointed to a couple of what looked like professional ice skaters making a move you had never seen before. Your eyes sparkled as their chemistry was unmatched by everyone else in the rink. They spun so gently and romantically that you felt like you had to try to do something just as beautiful as that. Kirishima took a couple of Ice skating lessons on the side only to gain more flexibility and agility to become a better defense hero during his agency apprenticeship. It worked well, and he learned many things that he didn't expect to use in his daily life.

Looking at the skilled ice skaters, he felt like that could be him and you, and so he looked back into your eyes, reciprocating your glittery gaze. With a pure and toothy grin, he said, "Okay, let's give it a try."

Excited by his answer, you almost jumped for joy, forgetting where you were, and almost slipped and tumbled into the Red-haired hero. You laughed off the blunder, and you both kept trying to reach the speed it would take to get into any ice move. Having the fundamentals of chemistry be explained had made you even more pumped. Learning the basics of a spin and how to get the most out of sticking your leg out and balance. Kirishima praised you every time you got further into the rotation. You felt good knowing that you were trying and learning something different, respecting the art of figure skating.

Surprised that you were doing so well, you lost focus for a second and accidentally bump into Kirishima, resulting in him falling to the ice-cold floor. Horrified that he's injured, you kneel close to him to inspect, but instead, he laughs, looking at your worried face.

"I'm okay, Princess; this isn't my first time falling on the ice."

"Are you sure? I mean, it looked like you fell kinda har-"

To avoid a freakout and reassure you, he stole a kiss from your lips, lasting more than three seconds as you didn't want it to stop, but he pulls away with a light chuckle, "This floor is cold as hell, though."

"I-I'm sorry," You slightly pout, not knowing what else to say.

"But hey, I'm here with the hottest girl, so this makes up for everything."

Your goofiest smile was starting to form as you reached out to help him up. "Okay, Mr. Flirt, you got me there."

His laugh was highly pleasing to your ears, and you laughed with him. As he stood up, he patted himself down and checked his skates, making sure everything felt the way it did before the fall. After the check, he wanted to leave the rink, it made you anxious, thinking that something else was wrong with him, but he laughed again, "I know you wanted to try a pro move today, but I actually have something else planned."

"Something else?" You tilted your head to the side, confused as to what he could be mentioning.

"Yeah, but it's a surprise, so I'm not gonna say anything until we get there." His shark-like grin came back, making you grin in return.

"Okay, but can I have a hint?" You imitated puppy dog eyes but couldn't keep your face straight, laughing at your own face.

"Hmmm, I'll think about it" He smiled. "Maybe when we're closer, but let's return these skates and go."

And with that, you returned the skates getting your cute and comfortable platform sneakers back. You had even forgotten what shoes you wore since you were in the rink skating for a long time, Feeling like you had sweat enough from the body-induced activity. You were excited to figure out where you might be going. You tried your best to make guesses as you rode the bus to get there and passed by each stop. Still not able to put the finger on where you might be going.

"Here's your hint, Princess," You turn from looking out the window to look back at him. "It's as sweet as you."

Even with such a cute but corny remark, you still didn't have a clue. But you were getting off at the next stop. No dots connected as Kirishima grabbed your hand, guiding you off the bus with him. He smiled the whole way, eager to see your expression on the date's secondary location. The walk may have lasted for five minutes until he stopped, turning to look at you, "We're here."

The building looked a little shabby but still had a colorful banner saying 'Welcome.' A little creeped out, you wondered what was being welcomed. Ghosts maybe? Not humans, maybe clowns, though. You were reluctant to step further, but you looked into Kirishima's eyes, and his expression looked pure and unaltered by the outer appearance of the building. You feigned a light smile, unsure what to expect inside the establishment but prepared for what's to come.

Intertwining your hands, your date tightened the grip, caressing your hand. As if doing his best to comfort you as you walked closer to the entrance, his toothy grin never leaving. As he opened the door for you, you entered the building, the floor looking just as bland as the outside, but you had to be admitted in to get to the specific base, and as you got to your final destination, Kirishima let you walk in first to scope out the scene.

In an instant, you're blinded by beautifully bright colors, pleasingly happy music that didn't sound creepy and candy-like decor from wall-to-wall. Shocked by what you're seeing, candy hung from the ceiling while numerous candy stations were on the floor. Your eyes became huge, looking at what could only be considered a candy paradise. Kirishima stood next to you, nodding at the beauty of the atmosphere filled with gleefulness and sweets all over.

"Well, Princess, welcome to Sugar Sanctuary."

He presented the place so nonchalantly, and yet his energy about the place said otherwise. Your jaw had dropped, not even knowing a place like this had existed. Your eyes couldn't even focus on what was in front of you; you just wanted to explore the floor and eat as much candy as possible.

"We burned so many calories skating, I think we should reward ourselves. I remembered out of the blue that you used to have a sweet tooth, and I wanted to see if that still holds true now."

You turned to hug him tightly, almost jumping into his arms. His eyes widened as you held him, " Of course that's still true! Let's leave here with a dump truck worth of sweets!"

His chuckle reverberated through his body and onto yours as you held him; without protest, he nodded. "Let's do it!"

And with that, you venture into the venue, reading fun facts about the candy, playing the video games that gave out real prizes. Kirishima had a point to prove, his goal was to win you whatever you wanted, and he did it so well, surprising you at his gamer abilities. And his claw skills were something to see too! You never thought you would have this much fun on a date, and yet, here you were having the time of your life with the man who was your highschool sweetheart.

Although your relationships would continue to confuse your friends, you always looked at the bigger picture to smile and have fun. Avoiding all the complicated politics of your connection, taken at your own pace, and not listen to others' opinions as you enjoyed Kirishima's company and vice versa.

You spent every moment tasting different sweets and fresh pastries from the floor that you almost forgot to take photos of the unique location. You spotted a photo booth, and with no hesitation, You lightly tugged your redheaded date to follow along. The booth itself was spacious when inside and looked like it had enough room to fit half a dozen people. But because there was so much space, you tried to create a wonderland of candy surrounding you, bringing you closer to your date.

Kirishima happily obliged to set up what seemed to take a while but eventually, ready to pose for the flix. Unironically, you two looked gorgeous, making quirky faces as the camera flashed, focusing in on the memory. However, the moment was just perfect enough to steal a kiss from him and to thank him for all that he’s done to help you celebrate a holiday that you usually overlook. After caressing your lips onto his, you say, “You know what, Kiri, you truly delivered. And I want you to know that I appreciate you.”

He goes in for another kiss, just to rest his forehead on top of yours, “No, thank you, I’m happy to rescue my Princess from a boring any time of the year.”

With a couple more photos taken in the booth, you leave heading to their lounge area to share a complimentary cake with a candle to grant a special wish together, hoping to have endless moments and to keep smiling together.

#eijirou kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima imagine #mha imagines #bnha imagines

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beyond-the-mirror · 5 years ago

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Red Riding Hood and the Red Devil - Dante x Reader (200 Followers Special)

Just recently I was navigating tumblr when I realized that my current follower account was already above 200 and I was like “… whaaat?”

I want to take this chance to thank you all for your support and the positive reception of my beloved works Nocturnal Encounters and Music of the Night. Your feedback DOES MEAN A LOT to me and I want to encourage you to leave as many comments as you want so I know how to keep improving myself and my writing skills. And also thank you for reading my random, spontaneous headcanons that I know you didn’t ask for but I still provided just ‘cause.

Anyways, I dedicate this story to all of you. It will be divided in three parts and let me warn you now that part two and three will be quite spicy. 👀

WIthout further ado, let’s head into this story!

Part Two - Part Three

……….

Part One

When your neighbors entered your bistro that morning, you definitely weren’t expecting the news they were about to deliver you.

Your grandmother was shopping at the market, going on her daily routine as always, when she suddenly collapsed in the middle of the crowd. Luckily the doctors managed to give a proper diagnosis, nothing than couldn’t be cured normally with the proper treatment and a lot of rest. The problem laid on the advanced age of your dear grandma, her weak complexion being a potential catalyst for the illness to worsen shall she not receive extensive care and attention.

She was the only family you had left, your parents died during your teenage years and she had no other children beside your mother. Hiring a personal nurse was out of question, with the medicines already taking much of your modest income. With no other option available, if someone had to step up to this task, it had to be you.

As soon as the apple pie you had baked cooled down a bit, you packed it in your basket along several other home-cooked meals and the elixir bottles the doctors prescribed. With everything properly packed, the only thing left was waiting for the carriage to arrive.

A knock on the door signaled the coachman’s arrival. Before heading out, you quickly put on your favorite cape to protect you from the chilly air outside. You had acquired it years ago as a present from your grandma, a handmade cape colored in the most vibrant and dazzling crimson you had ever seen, only the richest roses gardened with the utmost care could compare to the beautiful garment in any way. You would always wear it during fall and winter, always making sure it never got damaged or torn. Because of it, everyone you knew in the little city you lived lovingly nicknamed you ‘Red Riding Hood’.

Thanking sincerely the short staff that worked by your side, you hugged each one of them before departing, may heaven bless them for their unconditional support during this hard time of yours. As soon as they heard the news, they immediately stepped up without question, offering their total help to keep the bistro running in your place so you could focus completely in your grandmother’s treatment. They were amazing and trustworthy people, your business was indeed in rather good hands.

With one last goodbye, you climbed onto the carriage. The plan was very simple: you would stay at your grandma’s as much as she required, only returning to the city for supplies and her prescribed elixir when needed. She lived not too far away by foot, her house being at the outskirts of the neighboring village, but considering you were carrying a basket full of food and a suitcase, going by carriage was definitely the better choice.

“Everything will be fine.” You assured yourself, grasping the front of your cape as if holding on to that sense of security.

……….

“I’m sorry Miss but we can’t keep going. The road is blocked.”

“Blocked? What happened?”

You were wondering why the carriage stopped so suddenly. As you got out, the answer laid clearly right in front of you.

A rockslide was blocking the ample road ahead and stopping all travelers from going any further. It was such an odd sight, there had been no storms or earthquakes recently for the steep to be weakened to such length. Everyone present was utterly baffled, just what exactly happened here?

“I’m afraid it will take a few weeks to fix the road.” Added the coachman, his tone full of sorrow since this incident was definitely going to affect his job. “There’s nothing we can do to keep going. We must go back.”

No. You were not going back. Your grandma needed you and there’s no way you were going back. “What about the forest? If this passage surrounds it, then by walking straight from here we should eventually make it to the road again, am I correct?”

A worried expression took over the coachman. “You are indeed correct Miss, but please don’t go there. The forest is too dangerous, many people have gone missing and the locals always warn not to enter under any circumstance.”

“You are very kind sir, but my family needs me. You don’t need to come with me.” You handed him the accorded payment for his service. “Thank you for your service, you may go back to your family now.”

The old man gulped “In that case Miss, there’s something you must know if you insist on continuing.” Reaching into his leather bag, he fished out a small compass as well as a map, which he proceeded to unroll. “According to this map, the portion of the forest you need to cross is actually quite short, which means you should be able to get out in no time as long as you walk in a straight line. Please, I beg you to take this compass with you, it has a small charm embedded on the back for protection.”

The look the man was giving made it impossible for you to refuse, not to mention that the compass would definitely come in handy. After he unloaded your stuff and climbed unto his seat, you thanked the kind man once again. “Please take care Miss. I will pray for your safe return.” With those words, he bid you farewell and returned home.

……….

Red Grave Woods was quite an enigmatic and feared forest to everyone who knew about it. It may appear silent and peaceful to those who didn’t know any better, and that misjudgment almost always lead to rather tragic consequences.

You walked in a hurry across the woods, hood over your head and never once looking back. One of your hands tightly clutched the front of your cape, once in a while letting go to briefly check the compass encapsulated within its grasp. You did your best to keep a cool mind, just like the coachman mentioned ‘the portion you need to cross is actually quite short’.

‘Just a little more. Just a little more.’ You repeated mentally over and over. It would be over soon. Sooner than you thought. However, you couldn’t help but feel as if something could happen to you at any time, you knew just how vulnerable you were by going all alone into the woods.

And the pair of glowing red eyes watching over you knew it too.

In just an instant, the temperature drastically dropped, making you stop dead in your tracks. Your heart pounded in your chest so loudly that you thought it was going to explode.

Clutching your cape and the minute compass, you whispered a short prayer to try and calm yourself down. You reminded yourself ‘Don’t turn back. Whatever you do, don’t turn back.’

“You know it’s quite rude to turn your back on someone, don’t you?”

A deep distorted masculine voice had just called you from right behind, leaving a deadly silence taking over the ominous woods. Not even the wind dared howl any longer.

You stood frozen in place, refusing to look back or even acknowledge the mysterious presence behind.

“Not to mention it is straight up an offense to trespass into another’s home without an invitation. Aren’t you quite the naughty girl?”

‘Don’t look back, (Y/N). Under any circumstance, do not look back.’

“Come on little red lady. Let me see your pretty face.” His warm breath tickled the back of your neck, sending chills down your spine. Well, whoever this creature was, you might as well face him. Whatever fate you were about to meet, at least you would do it upfront.

Very slowly did you turn. “Ahhh there she is!”

You kept your eyes closed as you faced him, until you finished gathering enough courage to finally flutter them open. Before you stood a tall anthropomorphic creature, a man covered head to toe in a dark scaly armor with a burst of red energy on the center of his chest, magma rivers traveling along the cracks between the many scales and ridges of his body. He had a set of thick red wings curled down and bellow his arms, resembling a coat of sorts. Four red horns protruded from his head backwards, accompanied by a set of short white spikes on top of his head and another bellow his chin. His blood red eyes were fixated on you, and his lips formed a smirk that revealed two rows of sharp fangs.

This demon towered over you, he could easily toy with you and crush you like an ant whenever and however he wanted, yet he simply stood there staring at your form.

“What do you want?” you inquired the beast, trying your best not to show any weakness or hint of fear.

The demon chuckled at your false bravado. “I should be the one making that question. Didn’t your parents teach you not to play in the scary woods? A big bad wolf could attack and gobble you up in one single bite, or should I say a big bad devil?”

Was he being playful? By his mocking tone you concluded that he was merely toying with you like a cat would a mouse, and oh how that infuriated you so.

“I’m afraid I do not have time to humor a stranger. I have an urgent matter to attend to, so whatever it is that you want with me you will tell me right now.”

“Oooh a feisty one.” Truth be told, he was impressed with your attitude. No wonder you had caught his eye, you were definitely entertaining him. “But sadly that won’t do you much help, oh no.”

The demon circled you, scrutinizing you with his glaring eyes. “And what is that supposed to mean?” You followed him with yours, not trusting him enough with your back towards him.

The creature hummed “This forest consumes, my little red lady. Many, many horrors have made this place their home; shadows who love preying on the innocent, especially on little innocent girls playing in the woods. Oh, how they love those in particular.”

“And let me guess. You are one of those horrors.”

His chest rumbled with laughter “Actually, this is your lucky day little one. For it turns out, I may just be the kindest demon you will ever encounter in this cruel world.” The devil gave a dramatic bow to you, his ruby eyes staring at you before giving you a charming wink.

You huffed at the devil’s strange demeanor. There was nothing trustworthy about him, but it’s not like you could run away easily. The best course of action would be indulging him in this game of his, only then perhaps you’ll find a small chance to survive.

The red devil took notice on the way you kept your basket close to you, and he wondered the reason why. A short breeze blew, and the red devil was no longer in front of you.

“Now I’m curious to know what do you keep in this thing of yours. Whatever it is, it smells delicious!” His voice was now behind you, and in his hands he held… your basket! But how? When did he-?

The demon sniffed as he held your basket to his face. He could make out the rich aroma of fruits, herbs and spices; his mouth watering at the positively delicious food inside.

“Hey! Give that back right now!” You immediately tried snatching it back, only for him to lift it beyond your arms reach thanks to his incredible height. He simply ignored your struggling form and opened the lid, and sure there were several kinds of prepared meals that looked utterly delightful. Herb-crusted pork loin, sweet apple pie, homemade pizza (his favorite human food, and with no olives! ) and… suspicious-looking purple bottles? He picked one of those with a clawed hand to examine it up close.

“Huh. What do you keep in this weird bottles eh? They smell kinda funny.”

Before he could possibly break them, you managed to snag the one he was holding. “Those are elixirs! Now unhand that basket this exact moment!”

“An elixir… What do you need this medicine for?”

He watched the way you frowned, eyes now with a hint of worry. “My grandmother… she’s terribly ill. She’s the only family I have left. I need to take care of her, otherwise she…” No. Now was not the time for tears. Show no weakness in the presence of a demon.

To your surprise, the red devil actually returned your basket, with him now knowing the reason why you were walking so hurriedly before.

“Why are you holding your tears, little one?”

By the time you realized, the mysterious creature was now kneeling before you, one of his claws gently catching a stray tear that managed to escape your eye. Despite being an entity of fire, brimstone and flames, the warmth he emitted wasn’t scorching, on the contrary, it was inviting and comforting.

“Because sitting and crying won’t make a difference, it won’t save my grandma. I must stay strong and keep moving forward.” It was hard, but you managed to keep your composure.

The red devil hummed, his chest rumbling and purring. “Let me offer you a deal then.” He got back on his feet before continuing. “I shall be your guide and guardian in this forest so you can make it to your grandma’s house unscathed and with no unsolicited attacks from the local demons. How’s that?”

You quirked an eyebrow towards him. He was willing to what now? “What? You’re giving me your protection just like that? Surely there’s something you want in return considering how cunning and deceiving your kind is.” He may seem nice, but there was no way he would offer something without expecting an exchange for another, it’s how demons were and always will be.

“And you are absolutely correct about that, little red lady, very insightful indeed. Now now, what could I possibly ask from you? Mmm…” with a finger on his lips, the creature made a show of pondering his request. A snap of his fingers signaled that he had made up his mind. “Got it! Actually it’s something really simple, but very fun.”

He came closer to you, hooking a clawed finger under your chin and tilting your head upwards so you could meet his gaze. “How about…” he leaned down, his breath fanning over your lips. “… a kiss?”

You immediately pulled away, a crimson blush bright on your cheeks and nose tip. How dare he make advances on you? And during the dire situation you were going through?

The demon simply laughed at your reaction, amused by the indignant scowl you were giving him. “C’mon little one, it’s only a tiny peck I’ll be giving you. It could be on your cheek, if you are feeling unsure about it.” Another wink from him. Was this creature for real?

“Ugh! You sly devil.” Such insolence! It seemed that this little game of his would not stop… yet you remembered what you told yourself before, the best course of action is to indulge this demon for better chances at survival. “… Fine. Just go ahead.”

His smirk evolved into a full wolfish grin and once again, he towered over you while you did your best to avoid his eyes. First he leaned down, taking his time to smell your scent. It was sweet, intoxicatingly so, with floral hints then and there. After a few seconds of silence, you felt his lips press against the flushed skin of your cheek. They were surprisingly soft and plump, staying there for what felt like an eternity. When he pulled away, you almost missed his warmth and proximity.

“There. It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Your blush deepened. No, it definitely wasn’t so bad after all.

“So. If we are about to continue together, I think it’s only fair you give me your name. I want to know who is my traveling companion this nice morning.”

This time it was you who smirked. “Only if you tell me yours first. Since I’m obviously at a disadvantage, if I give you my name now, it would only grant you even more power over me. You go first.”

“Not bad, little red lady. Not bad at all.” Oh you were incredibly smart, the oldest tricks in the demon book would definitely not work with you. He had just met you and he already liked you, his intuition was right when he witnessed you entering the forest with determination in your steps.

“You may call me Dante.” He took one of your hands, lifting it to his lips and placing a soft kiss at your knuckles. “How should I call you, little red riding hood?”

You smiled at him, this time it was a sincere genuine smile “You may call me (Y/N).”

#devil may cry #Dante Sparda #dmc dante #dante x reader #dante x you #little red riding hood #self-insert #fanfiction #fanfic

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hollandspiderling · 5 years ago

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Pillow Talk

Summary: Pillow Talk | n. Sweet and inviting talk that really has no point. Doesn’t have to be sexual nor follow anything sexual; intimate talk between lovers while lying in bed.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (Uni!AU)

Warning: None, just plain old fluff.

Word Count: ~3.5k

Author’s Note: Here is another one-shot that I couldn’t help myself with writing. I found it in one of my old archives on a website I used to write on and wanted to revamp it. Also imagining just being all soft and cute with Tom makes my heart melt, hope you guys enjoy reading this! xoxo, Astrid.

‘Another tiring day done…’

You smiled to yourself as you put away the last dish in the cupboard before stretching your arms. The faint sound of the shower could be heard as you leisurely made your way towards the master bedroom. A contented sigh escaped your lips as you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for accomplishing the goal that you’ve had for a while. Ever since you and Tom decided to move in together, you promised yourself that you’d become a better cook for him. When you guys first started dating during your first year of university, you weren’t that great of a cook but being the gentleman that he was, Tom always gave you high praises for your first attempts. Three years later and with his request of moving in, you took it upon yourself to sign up for cooking classes in your spare time as well as watching YouTube videos to follow. And once you saw the twinkle in his eye and the way he ate your food with much gusto that night, you knew that your hard work finally paid off.

As you entered your shared bedroom, you untied your hair that was in a bun and ran your fingers through the tangles. Music could be faintly heard in the bathroom as Tom continued taking a shower and you hummed along to the tune. You did your usual nightly facial routine before changing into a loose V-neck and a pair of Tom’s boxers. A giggle escaped your lips as you listened to your boyfriend sing along to Umbrella by Rihanna. You rolled your eyes as you made sure your things were ready for work the next day thinking to yourself, ‘As much as he says he hates Umbrella ever since he did the lip sync, that boy still loves to sing along to that song.’ Slipping underneath the white covers, you plugged in your phone into its charger as you heard the shower stop along with his music playing from his phone. The door opened and his familiar scent of Old Spice filled the bedroom as he rustled around for clothes.

Setting down your phone on the bedside table, you turned around and smiled at him. Tucking your hands underneath the pillow you were lying on; you admired your boyfriend’s toned body. His boxers hung low to the point where you could see the slight dent of the dimples on his back as well as how toned the muscles of his back were due to constantly working out. He dried the curls you loved to run your hands through with the towel that was hanging around his neck and you didn’t flinch when he turned around to find you staring at him. Tom smirked lightly as he playfully winked at you.

“Admiring what you see?”

You laughed and threw his pillow at him. “What can I say? You’ve been getting more toned every time I see you. I can’t help but admire the progress.”

“You have to thank Harrison for asking me to gym with him. The guy never knows when to let me breathe.” Tom chuckled as he slipped on a pair of sweats.

“Remind me the next time we all come together for dinner. I’ll definitely have to give him my thanks for making sure you are in tip-top shape.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, darling? I wasn’t at my best shape, before?” he joked, tossing his pillow that fell onto the floor back at you. He gave you a pout and you playfully shook your head.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Tommy. I’ll love you in any shape or form. But that V-line is getting more and more defined every time I see you.” You teased and playfully wriggled your eyebrows at him. You laughed as you hugged the pillow he threw at you. Tom quirked an eyebrow at you as he stopped drying his hair and said, “Y/F/N, keep looking at me like that and you will be getting tickled once I’m done here. Never ever give me such a cringey face again.”

Jokingly mimicking back what he said to you, you laughed and motioned for him to sit on the bed you shared before getting up from your position. You grabbed the towel and began to softly finish drying his hair for him. Tom closed his eyes and leaned into your warmth. A contented sigh left his lips as he turned his head and softly kissed the inside of your wrist before crossing his arms over his chest.

“You are such a dork, love; I sometimes catch myself asking why I’m with you.” He jokingly murmured.

You tugged on his hair lightly and smiled in victory as you saw him wince. “Well I guess you’re stuck with a dork who is the only one that is able to nerd out with you. You’re stuck with me babe.”

He smiled at your words and melted inside when you pecked his cheek and patted his shoulder. Tom would never get tired of your company and it’s these times that you guys had to yourselves that kept him going when things at work got tough. A moment of comfortable silence fell upon you two as you enjoyed each other’s presence. You peppered his face in kisses before moving away and lightly slapped his shoulder.

“Alright, now finish up because I’m getting lonely here.” You giggled.

Tom groaned as he lazily got off the bed and began to make his way back to the bathroom. He turned around and winked at you. “Don’t miss me too much, I’ll be back love.”

“Don’t worry, I’m more than comfy here on this bed. But if you do take too long, then I might just knock out before you.”

You shook your head in amusement as you heard him laugh and stuck his tongue out at you before disappearing into the bathroom. Falling onto your back, you stared at the ceiling as you waited for Tom to finish getting ready for bed. You still couldn’t believe that your relationship was still going strong despite all that you’ve been through. Your friends and the people around the both of you claimed that you guys wouldn’t make it due to your busy schedules because a lot of couples would often not make it through their first year of university. Your orbits never met unless it was with your friends on the weekends when everyone was free, but other than due to being in two different majors, it sometimes got hard to make time for each other. But in the end, you proved everyone wrong by going strong all throughout your college careers and finally moved in together after landing stable jobs.

Four years and it still feels like we just began dating…

Your eyes traveled to the picture that was sitting on your dresser. It was a photo that the two of you took when Tom surprised you with a trip to London on your third-year anniversary. You were in the midst of laughing as you held onto your cardigan and his arm was slung over your shoulder. You smiled to yourself as you remembered that you were walking along the bridge across the river when all of a sudden Tom surprised you from behind before kissing your temple and took the picture. On the back of it, Tom had written a heartfelt message to you once it was developed, promising that he’d never hurt you and one day make you his wife.

“Falling asleep on me, already?”

You looked over your shoulder to find Tom smiling down at you as he joined you under the covers. You shook your head and nodded towards the photo you were looking at.

“Nah, I was reminiscing our London trip.”

Tom’s arms automatically wrapped themselves around your frame, bringing you closer to him. Spooning her, he nuzzled into the crook of your neck and hummed in happiness as he remembered your trip as well. You closed your eyes as you relaxed in his embrace, both of you wrapped up in your own world.

“It was a great trip, wasn’t it? I feel like that was what solidified everything between us.”

You felt him nip your neck lightly and you slapped his arm playfully. “You’re such a div.”

He let out a husky laugh and said, “I wasn’t referring to our last night, but besides that wonderful event and constantly hearing my name from you, it was the most that we got to spend time with each other. It was a whole week, just the two of us, with no one to disrupt our time together.”

You hummed in agreement before turning over and snuggling deeper into his embrace. Your legs became entangled with each other as you laid your head in the crook of his neck. You traced the outline of his collarbone and he began to play with your hair. A comfortable silence fell onto you two as you enjoyed each other’s presence after a long day. It was true that your London trip was the most that you spent time together. Your schedules were demanding, and you were only to spend one to two days together when it was during the holidays. The only reason why you kept so strong with Tom was because of your constant communication with and faith in each other.

“My favorite part was seeing your flustered expression when I dragged you with me when I was bikini shopping.” You murmured as you smiled to yourself.

Your mind flashed back to when you realized that while you were packing in haste, you had forgotten to pack a swimsuit. After a little bit of convincing, you dragged Tom out with you because he also ended up needing to get some stuff on the way anyways. Once you reached the store, Tom’s expression will forever be kept in your mind. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights with his eyes wide and constantly moving around when he followed behind you. Tom had his hand covering the lower half of his face when they were in the store and the light tint of red that could be seen on his cheeks made him so adorable to you.

He pouted slightly as he remembered and poked your cheek. “The only person that I’ll admire is you and seeing all those kinds of revealing clothing with other women in the store, I didn’t know how to act.”

Tapping his nose, you chuckled and said, “Well you looked quite adorable, just like an innocent child.”

“I can’t help it if my mother raised me right.”

“She definitely raised a wonderful gentleman.”

Tom smiled as he warmly looked down at you. Pecking you on the lips lightly Tom tightened his grip around you. “God, what did I do in my previous life to deserve you?”

Moving onto his back, he pulled you on top of him. You rested your palms on his chest as you looked down at him. Tucking a couple strands behind your ear, he gave you a tender gaze.

“I’m serious Y/N, I hope you always remember you’re the best thing that has happened to me. I’m going to make sure I marry you.”

“You said those exact words when we were at London. You even wrote it on the back of the picture.”

“I did, didn’t I? When we do get married, what kind of wedding are you hoping for?”

“That is if I actually do end up marrying you, Thomas Stanley Holland.”

Tom faked a gasp and immediately flipped you both over. He huffed as he caged you with both of his arms on either side of your head. “Don’t be so mean, sweetheart. No matter what, you’re going to be stuck with me because you’ve stolen my heart since day one.”

“You’re such a cheeseball.” You murmured as you caressed his face.

Leaning into your touch, he hummed in agreement. “You’re the only one that can make me feel like this, darling. But I’m serious though, what is your dream wedding?”

You pursed your lips in thought as you wracked your brain for an answer. With how busy your life was, you never really thought about what you wanted for in a wedding. Now that you were twenty-four, it did make sense that it should be something you should start thinking about.

“I guess maybe…a garden wedding? I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about this. But I do know that I don’t really want it to be that grand of a wedding. I just want family and close friends to be attending.”

“A garden wedding? I can see that considering how much you love roses.”

You chuckled as he pecked your lips and rolled onto his back. Turning onto your side to face him, you comfortably set your head onto his arm and smiled. “I’ve loved them ever since you gave one to me when you asked me out.”

“I was pretty smooth, wasn’t I?”

You scrunched up your nose in thought as he looked at you from the corner of his eye before staring at the ceiling. Running a hand through his hair, you gave him a look before saying, “Right, so hesitating in front of me for a good couple of minutes before saying everything in one quick go was smooth. I was so caught off guard when you suddenly pushed the flower into my hands. But…it was pretty sweet that our class’s heartthrob actually wanted me as his girlfriend.”

“Of course, I wanted you. Didn’t you know you were one of the most highly sought girls at that time?”

You shook your head and shrugged. “How could I pay attention to that when a certain someone was always trying to steal my attention? As much as I wanted to hide from all the attention you brought along, everything worked out, in the end, didn’t it?”

“Exactly. Now let’s fast forward a bit, if we were to start a family, how many kids would you want?”

“Two, but I really hope it’s a boy first and then a girl.”

Tom smiled in amusement and leaned in to peck your forehead. “You didn’t hesitate with that question, sweetheart.”

“Ironic isn’t it? I didn’t know what I wanted for a wedding, but I knew exactly how many kids I wanted.” You replied and looked up at him before you both laughed.

He shook his head and began to trace random patterns on your arm. “I think it’s cute of you. I’m assuming you want a boy first so we can raise him up to be a gentleman and a protector for our future little girl.”

You nodded and smiled warmly, “Growing up, it was only me and my older sister. But despite how much I love her and look up to her, there was always this part of me that wished to have an older brother to protect me and be close with.”

“Well, now you have your own protector who’s willing to stay by your side forever.”

You softly gazed at him and pecked his jawline. “Of course, and I’ll always be thankful to have you in my life.”

Tom wriggled his eyebrows playfully and asked, “What about their names?”

“I’m not sure, whenever I think about baby names, I always tend to change my mind. So, I was thinking of just naming them when they’re born, y’know?”

“Understandable. Just imagine Y/N, we’ll have our own house and two little kids constantly running around. It’d be paradise, don’t you think?”

You snuggled closer to him and hummed in agreement. “Everything will finally fall into place, Tommy. But I’m fine with the here and now as well. With you by my side, I feel like anything is possible.”

You felt Tom chuckle and tenderly kissed your forehead. “That’s supposed to be my line.”

Smiling slightly you savored the warm feeling of his kiss and said, “I guess when it’s two in the morning, your cheesiness begins to rub off me, babe.”

“Are you getting sleepy?”

You shook your head and said, “Now it’s my turn. You never told me or maybe I don’t remember. What got you to fall for me in the first place?”

“You probably won’t even remember what I’m going to tell you because our first moment together was really short.”

You gave him a questionable look and Tom smiled down at you. “It was actually before we officially met each other.”

He pulled the blanket over you guys and changed your position, so you were laying your head on his chest. As he remembered your first encounter, he lovingly ran his fingers along your back.

“It was the day where they welcomed all the freshmen to recognize their achievement of getting in and for choosing our university. You were with your friends and I was with mine, but I managed to bump into you when we were getting lunch in front of the rec center. At first, I thought you were going to go off on me for not watching where I was going, but you simply brushed it off and gave me a smile that I’d never forget. Before I had the chance to introduce myself, Harrison had popped up behind me and dragged me away.”

You tried remembering the memory and your eyes widened in realization. “That was you?!”

Tom laughed and nodded. “I guess I was lucky when Haz grew a crush on one of your friends or else our groups wouldn’t have intermixed and we wouldn’t have met.”

“I still can’t believe you have all that mush inside of you, Tommy. You’re the physical representation of a guy who fell in love at first sight.”

“I only show these sides of me to those who deserve it and you most definitely do, because you’re mine. You’re the only woman who managed to make me feel attracted to and fall for you Y/N Holland.”

“Y/N Holland?”

“What? I can’t get an early start of calling you, my wife?”

You laughed as he began to pepper your face with kisses, and you managed to hold his face in your grasp.

“It has a nice ring to it… I like it.” You softly replied and planted a kiss on his nose.

“It’s going to be your surname in the future, so you better get used to it.” He smiled.

Meeting his tender gaze, you couldn’t help but kiss him. You both smiled against each other’s lips as Tom brought you even closer to him. Letting go of your kiss, Tom rested his forehead against yours and caressed your cheek.

“Y/F/N, I love you.”

“I love you too, Thomas Stanley Holland.”

His gaze softened as he watched you sleepily rub your eyes. “We should get some sleep, baby girl.”

You whined as you clung to him and said, “But I want to keep talking…we haven’t gotten a moment like this in a while.”

“We’re living together, love. We’ll have many more moments like this, but it looks like you’re going to fall asleep any second now.”

“Ugh I hate it when you’re right.”

Tom laughed and kissed your pout before bringing the blanket up to your chin. “Well I love it when you get adorable like this.”

“Good night, Tommy…” she murmured.

He watched as you curled up against his side and smiled sleepily. Swiping a stray strand of hair away from your face, Tom leaned down and lovingly kissed your temple.

“Sweet dreams, darling.”

Smiling to himself, he watched his angel fall asleep. Once your breathing slowed down, he carefully moved onto his back and turned attention towards his bedside table. As best as he could without waking you up, Tom opened the top drawer and took out a small satin pouch. Setting it on top of his chest, he opened it up and took out the velvet container. He looked at you once more and bit his bottom lip. With his right hand, he opened up the small box and admired the silver diamond ring that sat inside.

At the moment, you each had a ring on your pointer finger. It was a promise ring that he had gotten for you both on your second-year anniversary and now that he felt like the moment was approaching soon, Tom had to be prepared. The following day was the day he was going to set his plan in action, and he wouldn’t keep you waiting for long. Every fiber in his body knew that you were the one. His boys were all ready to help and your friends were already growing in excitement when he told them the week before. Now with you in his arms, the time will come.

Soon, he’ll ask the love of his life to marry him.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x fem #tom holland x you #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #uni!tom

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satonthelotuspier · 5 years ago

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Fur and Feathers

So, a Shifter AU. I’ll probably dip into this verse quite a bit. This is part 1 of XiCheng, pre-relationship (at the Cloud Recesses) and setting it up for the later parts of their story and relationship. There’ll definitely be some Wangxian to be written here as well as more XiCheng. Throw your requests at me if you want to see other’s etc and I’ll see if I can fit them into the verse. It wasn’t touched on for the purpose of this fic but LXC is a mountain hawk-eagle, I love how this fits because many of the pictures I’ve seen have the MHE having a tufty cluster of feathers on their head which is similar to the ornament LXC wears in the live action version.

Title taken from Jordan L Hawke’s hexworld series where the animal familiars tend to use “fur and feathers” as a curse/exclamation, because I’m not very creative with titles.

3.4k of cats being cats. Crack, probably?

XiCheng Part 1

Why had he let Wei Wuxian talk him into this? Jiang Cheng thought in despair as his sleek, black-furred body slipped urgently from deep shadow to shadow, trying to avoid the Lan Sect disciples who he could hear follow behind with their light, even steps. He panicked, crouched low to the ground in the lee of a bush and looked around for any escape.

There, there was a door that was still open to the cool night air.

He put everything he had into his legs and made a dash for the doorway.

The Lan disciples spotted the form of deeper shadow moving in the darkness of the night, but as he made the door he heard one of them stop the other, “You know we can’t enter the Hanshi, Zewu-jun will have to deal with whatever it is...”

Zewu-jun! Lan Xichen! Oh fuck. His claws scrabbled to gain purchase on the wooden floor.

He had to get out of the Hanshi, now, at all costs. He’d rather face the two chasing disciples than Lan Xichen, with him vulnerable in this form.

He had just altered his momentum and changed direction for the opened doorway again, when he felt gentle hands catch him around the ribcage and lift him up.

He yowled in outrage; take your hands off of me, how dare you ruffle my beautiful, sleek fur.

“Calm down, little one” the gentle, melodious voice was of course the First Jade of Lan’s; he was in so much trouble, “What a beautiful little thing you are. I wonder where you came from. None of the new students are registered as cat shifters”

That was his mother’s fault, Madam Yu Ziyuan was mortally embarrassed her male child, instead of a majestic king cat like his tigress sister, or even a sturdy, protective dog breed like his “useless” Samoyed father, had dared to be born a domestic cat shifter. You just couldn’t trust genetics.

He hissed at the sudden movement as Lan Xichen lifted him, and he wanted to dig a hole to bury himself when he realised the other was checking his bits to determine his sex.

I will scratch your insolent eyes out, shameless creature, he howled his rage, claws flexing impotently at the end of his delicate paws.

“There, there” he was folded into the other’s arms, “such a beautiful little boy” a soft finger scratched gently at his head.

No, please, no, no, no. This was bad…

The finger moved down the scruff of his neck and hit the point directly between his slender shoulder blades.

Nooooo.

He couldn’t stop the gentle rumble that began deep in his chest as Lan Xichen rubbed at one of the spots that was guaranteed to coax his purr from him.

He wanted to dig that hole even deeper as the sound of contentment and pleasure rolled from him in waves. Like most shifters sometimes his instincts were stronger than his ability to suppress them, and sometimes Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but want to curl up in someone’s lap and be stroked like the precious baby his animal was.

Wei Wuxian loved to tease him about it. But then what did Wei Wuxian not like to tease anyone about?

He couldn’t complain too much as Wei Wuxian, his adopted brother and Jiang Yanli, his elder sister, were the only two people he could really ask to provide such a service on demand.

“That’s such a lovely sound” Lan Xichen complimented him, keeping up the fusses that caused it, perpetuating Jiang Cheng’s internal conflict.

Lan Xichen moved over to the table that contained a half-used tea set, and sat down, with Jiang Cheng in his lap.

It turned out the only shameless thing was himself, as he curled up, nose under tail, and let his animal take complete control.

It was much later that evening when Jiang Cheng stirred himself; he really ought to think about escaping and returning back to Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang, who would no doubt be enjoying their smuggled Emperor’s Smile, safely achieved due to Jiang Cheng’s drawing the patrolling Lan disciples away.

He rose to four paws and stretched lazily, but as he looked up into the delicate, handsome face of the first Jade of Lan, he caught such a look of melancholy and sadness he was shocked into stillness.

Lan Xichen seemed to come back from his thoughts, and the look vanished, as he realised the black cat had moved.

“Did you have a nice nap, xiao-Zizi?”

Little Purple, because of the unusual colour of his eyes in cat form.

Even though he had banished the sadness from his face there was an aura that clung to him, and Jiang Cheng’s soft heart, which he kept buried deeply under layers or sarcasm, anger and a pretence of not caring, thrummed in sympathy.

He swallowed every ounce of pride he possessed, then stretched his claws up so he stood on his back paws, with his front on the shoulder of Lan Xichen’s robes, then he rubbed his cheek against Lan Xichen’s. This was usually a cat’s way of marking it’s family, but it was also very cute and guaranteed to make a gentle soul like Lan Xichen smile.

It did, and Jiang Cheng mewled in approval as the other’s mouth curved gently.

He considered his role fulfilled, and jumped down from Lan Xichen’s lap with the intention of leaving. Except there was a tassel. It was attached to the jade pendant hanging from Lan Xichen’s belt.

Instincts again took him as he leapt forward to catch it under his front paws, claws digging into the threads and robes.

His cat’s body, like his human body, was just reaching the end of childhood; it was all gangly legs and too-big paws and playfulness, and it was a lot harder to stop his kitten’s urge to play than it was his human’s; where he was expected to show a much higher level of maturity.

Instead of the telling off he expected Lan Xichen merely chuckled and actually began to tease him with the tassel, allowing him to chase and pounce and hunt, butt-wiggle and all. He even detached it from the pendant and tossed it across the room to watch as the leggy young cat scrabbled over to enact a killing pounce.

By the end of their playtime Jiang Cheng was so exhausted that when Lan Xichen went to sleep he also curled up on the other’s chest, uncaring of the impropriety because he was a cat, and cats didn’t care about rules. It also meant he got extra fusses, which cats, despite their sometimes cold demeanours, did care about.

***

He had hugely miscalculated, Jiang Cheng realised as he woke up the next morning alone and curled with his nose under his tail on Lan Xichen’s bed.

It wasn’t much after five in the morning, but classes began soon, and he had to make his way back across the Cloud Recesses, without the security of night shadows the colour of his fur, to hide in.

He stretched, then slunk out of the Hanshi’s door to assess his trip.

It was misty and cool and there was dew everywhere; he was going to hate this. Unless he turned back to his human form. Honestly he was ready to let his cat instincts lie for a while now anyway; they had been given free reign far too much the previous evening, and if his mother found out he would be in serious trouble.

But his human form provided far too many other complications, like explaining what a visiting disciple was doing in the first young lord of Lan’s private sanctum, and the fact he was neither stealthy nor small enough to evade detection in it.

His cat would just have to suck it up and travel through the dew-strewn morning.

He matched actions to thoughts and eventually arrived safely back at their lodgings.

Wei Wuxian scooped him up as he opened the door to Jiang Cheng’s scratching.

“Where have you been? We were just about to start combing the entire Cloud Recesses for you” Wei Wuxian set him down on his bed, and gave him the space to return to his human form.

Which he did with a deep sigh of relief.

“I was trapped in the Hanshi, with Lan Xichen. I had to stay a cat or I’d have been in so much trouble. Sometimes I suppose A-Niang’s refusal to acknowledge that I’m a cat shifter has it’s uses” he tried to make a joke of it, as he always did, but it never cut him any less that he was a disappointment to his family on something he had absolutely no control over at all.

His mother always registered his shifter form as a Xiasi hound.

Wei Wuxian held his tongue on that subject.

Nie Huaisang, who had become firm friends with the two Yunmeng boys during their first few days in Gusu, fluttered his fan nervously, “You spent the night in Lan Xichen’s rooms?”

“I was being chased by two Lan Disciples, and I ducked through the nearest door. They didn’t follow me into the Hanshi. But Lan Xichen was there, so I couldn’t get away. I had to cat”

“I would have paid to have seen you acting all cute with the First Jade of Lan” Wei Wuxian grinned, enormously entertained by the thought, “But we can’t let him find out it was you” he agreed. “You should get changed, we’ll be late for class”

“I need to bathe” really, the only thing that ruled Jiang Cheng’s world in both forms was his rigorous personal hygiene routine. He would rather die than cut it short in any way.

Wei Wuxian was fully aware of what Jiang Cheng was like and had kept a bath drawn for him.

“It will be cold, sorry, be quick, you’ll draw attention to yourself if you’re late” Wei Wuxian informed him as he moved to the door with Nie Huaisang in tow.

“I know, I’ll be done as soon as possible”

The other two left him to his toilette as he began shedding robes.

***

Carefully groomed he made it just in time to slip into the classroom and kneel at his desk before Lan Qiren and his eldest nephew, Lan Xichen arrived.

They found out immediately what Lan Xichen’s attendance was for; Jiang Cheng should have known he wouldn’t let the sudden, unexplained appearance of a cat lie.

Under the pretence of checking their administration they questioned if there were any cat shifters present as someone had thought they might have seen one the previous evening.

Jiang Cheng lowered his gaze, hiding his flush with the fall of his hair, and Wei Wuxian, being Wei Wuxian, decided to distract the room.

“Are they sure it wasn’t a sable, Lan-gongzi? I’m a sable, look at how cute I am” and he slipped into his animal form and dashed to the front of the classroom and onto the desk to show off his cuteness.

The rest of the classroom of course found this greatly amusing, and even Lan Xichen smiled a little.

“Yes, thank you Wei-gongzi, for the demonstration” he picked Wei Wuxian up and returned him to his own desk, more to protect the younger man from his uncle’s ire than any other reason, and Wei Wuxian returned to his human form.

“See, I look a lot like a cat, right?” Wei Wuxian asked with a huge smile; one that got him out of trouble with Jiang Cheng’s father every time.

“I’ll bear that in mind, Wei-gongzi” Lan Xichen left soon afterwards, having received no further clue as to the identity of his night time visitor.

***

He was returning from the library pavilion late the following evening when Jiang Cheng stumbled upon the Two Jades of Lan, who were strolling towards the Lan living areas in the soft moonlight; and Jiang Cheng caught the tail end of their conversation.

“How are you and Wei-gongzi getting along, Wangji?”

What had Jiang Cheng missed?

Apparently whatever it was, Lan Wangji had also missed it.

“Xiongzhang, I don’t understand? Wei Wuxian and I have no interaction outside of uncle’s classroom. He’s frivolous, careless, and irreverent. He also makes my nose twitch”

“That would be your inner rabbit” there was a small smile in Lan Xichen’s voice, “You should try to make more friends your own age while we have so many young cultivators here at the Cloud Recesses, Wangji, Wei-gongzi’s personality is a little trying, I’ll grant you, but he has a large heart, and he’s very personable. He would balance out your more reserved personality, and vice versa. Friendships often work best when opposites attract”

There was a soft “hmph” from the younger Jade, and the sound of gravel underfoot quickened, indicating Lan Wangji walked away from his elder brother, who chuckled softly.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t meant to spy on them, but the moment he had heard Wei Wuxian being talked of he had assumed his cat form and followed the two Jades from the shadows, ensuring he was on hand if Wei Wuxian’s reputation needed protecting. Lan Xichen had spoken nothing if not the truth, however, so now Jiang Cheng found himself left alone in the shadows near the elder Lan sibling.

He was about to stealth away when he noticed the other look up at the stars briefly. That melancholic aura surrounded him again, and Jiang Cheng was caught between following his first intention of leaving, or making himself known and trying to cheer up the elder Jade.

He tried to tell himself it wasn’t his responsibility; everyone had their own worries to carry in this world, and Lan Xichen’s were nothing to do with him.

It would have been useful if he ever listened to his own good advice.

Instead he slunk out of the shadows and pressed against Lan Xichen’s ankles.

***

Thus began nights of his sneaking off to provide whatever comfort and distraction he could to the Lan Sect heir.

He didn’t allow himself to be caught out like on the first morning though, and around the change of a day he would slink away back to his rooms, sometimes to find Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang engaged in drinking, which he would join them in.

Wei Wuxian began talking quite a lot about Lan Wangji, especially in his cups and Jiang Cheng couldn’t help thinking about the conversation he had overheard between the Lan siblings.

From what Wei Wuxian said it seemed Lan er-gongzi was as unreceptive of the advances Wei Wuxian made as he had been when Lan Xichen had suggested to Lan Wangji that he try to make friends.

Really Jiang Cheng wasn’t surprised; he loved Wei Wuxian like a brother, (if he was pushed on the matter and forced to admit his feelings), but he wasn’t blind to the fact Wei Wuxian was an acquired taste, and one his own palate wasn’t fully inured to on occasion.

It continued so for some weeks.

Until one night he was guilted into staying with Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang after the former had made a successful trip down the mountain to obtain Emperor’s Smile.

Although Wei Wuxian had a high tolerance for alcohol it did loosen his tongue, and he began complaining.

“You don’t mark us as much anymore” there was a definite pout in his voice, and Jiang Cheng started. He referred of course to the rub of a cheek against family and close friends Jiang Cheng used to scent people as his social group.

“Yes I do. As much as I can get away with here in Gusu, I can’t do it as freely as at Lotus Pier Wei Wuxian, you know what would happen to me if mother found out I let the cat out of the bag”

Wei Wuxian found his choice of idiom hilarious and laughed heartily, while Nie Huaisang waved his fan at Wei Wuxian, urging him to be quiet less they be discovered.

Then he did quieten, “No you don’t, and you never want to stay and drink with us, and Huaisang has such amazing pornography too. All you want to do is sneak away to be with Lan Xichen” the size of the pout in his voice had increased at least threefold.

He supposed he couldn’t deny he had spent most of the past weeks playing therapy animal in the Hanshi.

“Wei Wuxian, don’t be like that…”

“You give him all my fusses, you haven’t wanted to curl up in my lap since we got here. I’m your brother, I have a right!”

The last sentence was spoken at the same time as Jiang Cheng said: “Wei Wuxian…” and a third voice from the doorway added to the cacophony.

“So it was you” Lan Xichen, summoned to catch them drinking by a patrolling disciple, had walked in at the perfect point in the conversation to finally find out who the mysterious cat who visited him most nights was.

He sounded enraged.

“I would love to know what kind of silly entertainment you all took from your little scheme, but...well, never mind”

“It wasn’t entertainment” Jiang Cheng jumped to his feet, his panic dissipating into anger. His gesture had been meant as nothing but kindness, even enacted under the cloak of secrecy, and he didn’t feel he deserved such censure.

“That’s quite enough, Jiang-gongzi, you will all be punished in the morning for the rules you have broken. I feel I should write to the Council of Elders and inform them you’re misrepresenting yourself on shifter registers, too”

That threat cut deeper than any other Lan Xichen could have made, and Jiang Cheng’s already ashen complexion went a shade paler.

“You can’t, you don’t understand…”

“I said that’s enough” and the first Jade of Lan turned and left.

***

Jiang Cheng stayed only long enough to receive his punishment the following morning, then set out back to Yunmeng to enact damage control and explain to Madam Yu that her falsifying of his shifter records might be brought to light.

She was enraged, and Jiang Cheng didn’t think there was a safe space in the world for him at that moment. If he wasn’t reminded constantly what a fool he had been by his mother, he was reminded by his own memories and Lan Xichen’s anger.

He could only stay out of her way; hiding for the most part with Jiang Yanli.

His sister kept him sane, giving him the sympathy and protection he so desperately needed at the moment.

Wei Wuxian wrote shortly after his return, to inform him he had spoken rather sharply on his behalf to Lan Xichen, explaining his motivations, that it definitely hadn’t been for the purposes of entertainment at the first Jade’s expense.

He had also begged the other to not write to the Council of Elders, explaining it wasn’t Jiang Cheng’s choice, nor fault, that he was falsely registered on all his shifter documentation.

A while later he received a second letter. The cloud seal, and elegant script suggested it might be from Lan Xichen. His childish first instinct was to burn it immediately, unread. He was still bitter the other hadn’t given him a chance to explain, and had had him punished for a kindness.

But he also wanted vindication.

Eventually the second motivation won out and he read it.

It wasn’t quite the full exoneration he had wanted. But the Lan Sect heir did apologise for reacting as he had, so immediately and without allowing Jiang Cheng to offer any defence on his own behalf.

Lan Xichen informed him he wouldn’t write to the Council, and that he would keep his secret on that issue given the circumstances.

Lan Xichen did still blame him for being so secretive about his identity, and said he should never have assumed Lan Xichen would welcome that kind of interference. Which Jiang Cheng accepted fully. He had entirely taken it upon himself to provide comfort.

Finally the first Jade of Lan suggested they meet to discuss the matter and set it to rest.

Not a chance.

Once he had read the letter fully Jiang Cheng did burn it, and didn’t reply.

A fourteen year old boy, no matter how mature he was expected to be, wouldn’t so easily forgive such a humiliation.

#XiCheng #pre-relationship #jiang cheng #lan xichen #wei wuxian #shifter AU #shay's stuff #mdzs fic #mdzs fanfic #mdzs #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian being a jealous brother #Fur and Feathers AU

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sunshinejs · 5 years ago

Text

The Last One

This one takes place during the Toronto show and supposedly is Connor’s last show (LISTEENNNNN my boy is coming to asia as well and i’m highkey mad bcs i’ll be back in uk for my studies by the time he comes to my country :( ) hope you enjoyed this one x

Word count: 3.2k -ish

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The day you were dreading for weeks was finally here.

The morning of the big show in Toronto, and also the last concert of the North America tour, you quietly worked your way around the kitchen to get something to have for breakfast.

Honestly when your best friend since childhood, Shawn, approached you last year asking if you wanted to join him and Brian on tour as his personal assistant, you didn’t think much was going to happen. Sure, you were blessed to be given the opportunity to travel around the world with your two best friends but you didn’t think you would get too attached to anyone on tour.

Until you met Connor, of course.

You met Connor late last year at a house party Shawn threw for his new tour family, in hoping to familiarize everyone with each other. So, yeah you met Connor briefly but you two didn’t talk much and you noticed he was the quite-shy type of person. That night after the party, you followed him on Instagram after seeing all the people Brian had tagged in his photos and he reciprocated it.

You never saw Connor again until a few days before the tour started. He shyly approached you and introduced himself (like the gentleman he is) properly to you, and that was when you two started getting to know each other.

It wasn’t even 3 weeks into the tour that everyone realized you two were very attached at hips. When there was Connor, there was you (for most of the time) and vice versa. You two did most of your work in pairs; he accompanied you on coffee runs and help you organize the tour schedules; you stayed up with him till the late morning while he edited footages and gave him your inputs on his montage ideas.

And of course, it’s no surprise that the first one who catches on the little heart eyes you and Connor sneakily send to each other when the other one wasn’t looking, was Brian, who immediately told Shawn about it. The both of them could not stop teasing you and Connor separately about it until it completely annoyed you. Alessia and Liv caught on it not too long after the boys and the four of them basically made it their life mission to get you two together before the European leg of the tour ended. You didn’t know at what point their mischievous plans worked, but true enough you and Connor became a couple just like they knew you would

The past few months have been absolutely crazy but you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. The late-night shenanigans with your friends, sneaking off with Connor for private date nights, crazy parties (4th of July and Shawn’s birthday to name a few) and the adrenaline rush from constantly waking up in different cities.

As day passes by, you were getting more fearful for that one specific day where everything would end. The day where everything changes for the entire tour family because it was the last day where Connor, Alessia and Liv would still be around.

“Morning baby” Connor snapped you out of your thoughts. You smiled softly to yourself as you lean back in his touch and let him press soft kisses to your neck “Whatcha thinking about, pretty lady?”

“The past few months” You admitted; putting your hands over his and intertwining your fingers together “Thinking about how hectic it was”

He chuckled lowly and you felt him nod against your neck “Yeah, it’s been the craziest times of my life”

“Crazy in a good way?”

“Crazy in the best way” Connor confirmed and slowly spun you around so you were facing him. He smiled softly and rest his hand on your cheek “Because I met you”

You sighed and leaned forward so your cheek was pressed against his bare chest as you listen to the beating of his heart “I don’t know how I’m going to go on with the tour without you” You muttered softly, trying your best not to cry.

“Hey,” He called and wrapped his arms around your body “We can worry about that when the time comes, baby. Tonight, we’re going to have the best night of our lives, you hear me? One last one for the road”

Connor felt you nod against him and he pressed a kiss to your head “We’re going to be fine, babe”

“There’s my favourite couple!” Another voice spoke up and totally ruining the moment you and Connor were having. Connor groaned at Brian’s voice as you let out a laugh and pushed yourself from Connor’s chest “Morning to you too, Bri”

“What’re we having for breakfast?” Brian asked nonchalantly as he walked past you and Connor to drop his dirty mug in the sink.

“Cereal” You answered, moving away from Connor and grabbed two extra bowls from the cabinet “There’s hot coffee waiting for you in the pot”

“This is why we’re best friends, y/n” Brian sighs happily and went over to the coffee pot “Brashier, you’re lucky to have her ya know?”

Your cheeks flushed when you noticed that adoring look Connor was sending your way “Yeah,” He agreed without hesitation “The luckiest”

xxx

“Your usual” You announced to Shawn as you handed him his coffee cup.

Shawn looked at you gratefully as he sets his phone aside “Thanks, honey” He smiled, looking over your shoulder; expecting to find Connor not too far behind “Did you go alone?”

“Yeah,” You shrugged and plopped down on the couch beside him “It was just a couple of blocks away”

“Connor didn’t go with you?” Shawn frowned after taking a sip of his drink “You two always go on coffee runs, no?”

“Ah, that’s what you’re wondering” You chuckled, slipping your phone out of your pocket “But no, Andrew needed to talk to him about something. It’s fine, you know? Soon enough I’m going to be doing it on my own anyways”

Shawn sensed that tone in your voice and he just knew you weren’t completely okay. He leaned forward and placed the cup on the table before turning his body to the side so he was facing you “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” You looked up from your phone. When you saw the serious look he had on his face, your eyebrows furrowed “Yeah, I am. Why’re you asking?”

“y/n” He warned “I know when you’re lying to me”

You knew whatever poker face you had one was not working because Shawn could read you like a book; has been that way for as long as you could remember. You took a deep breath and exhale through your mouth, “It just hit me this morning that it’s the last day and it’s been bugging me”

Shawn nodded understandingly, “Did you two talk about it?”

You shook your head no “He said we’d worry about that when the time comes”

Shawn knew you were going to continue so he kept quiet. “I don’t know how I’m going to do the tour without him” You told him shakily “We’ve been doing everything together, you know? How am I supposed to let go of that and fall back into a routine where it’s just me?”

“Honey, you’re not alone” He confirmed, sliding an arm around your shoulder and let you rest against him. You started sniffling and he could tell you were silently crying “Hey,” Shawn called softly as he rubbed your arm “I know it sucks but Brian and I are still around, okay? You come to us anytime. I could go with you for coffee runs, Brian could help you out with the schedules, we’ll make it work”

“And we’ll fly him out” Shawn promise, “Whenever you feel like you can’t handle it, we’ll get him to come out; doesn’t matter where we are. Everything’s going to be fine”

“I can’t ask him to do that for me” You shook your head “He’s going back to UCLA, Shawn. I can’t be the selfish one to ruin his future just because I’m feeling clingy”

“You are his future” He corrected, firmly “I’m telling you, y/n, Connor is so madly in love with you; that kid would walk to Antarctica if you asked him to”

You let out a giggle as you wiped away your tears. Shawn pulled away from you so you two were facing each other “I bet you all think we’re one of those super cringey couples who can’t be away from each other for more than 5 seconds”

“We definitely say that all the time,” Shawn shrugged “But we know how much you two complete each other. You two are good for each other” He added with a smile “Think about how shy he was to even hold your hand in the beginning, now he goes around yelling how everyone should be jealous he gets to kiss the most amazing girl in the world”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands to hide the redness of your cheeks “He really didn’t have to embarrass me like that”

“Come on, y/n, you know you love hearing it” He teased.

“Shawn!” Tiffany pops her head into the green room “I need you next door to try on an outfit!” She ordered then smiled to you “Hi honey!”

You smiled, waving to her “Hi Tiff”

“Duty calls” Shawn said enthusiastically as he stood up and grabbed his cup “You’re going to be okay?” He asked you with concern.

You nodded, standing up as well so you could give him a hug “Thank you,” You muttered against his shirt “Thank you for being my best friend, Shawn. I love you”

He smiled softly and pressed a kiss to your head “We’re stuck for life, bug” He teased, knowing you hated the nickname he gave you when you two were seven “Love you too, dork”

xxx

It was a tour ritual to have everyone from Shawn and Alessia’s team form a big circle before Alessia’s set and they both would give words of encouragements. Tonight’s one was a little more emotionally then you thought it would be. With Connor’s arm wrapped around your waist and your hand gripping onto Liv’s hand, you were trying to keep that fake smile on your face.

“… It’s been the best few months” Shawn smiled warmly to all the people present “I couldn’t ask for a better team and to have Alessia with us for the European and NA tour has been truly amazing”

“It really has been great” Alessia agreed with a smile and tears in her eyes “Thank you for keeping everything so fun and exciting every day. For all the laughter and smiles. It has been a blessing to be with everyone one of you”

“Hell yes!” Brian exclaimed “Ten years from now, we’re going to think back about this tour and we’re going to get all emotional about it, because we knew we had a pretty sick time as one family!”

Everyone laughs, most of them with teary eyes having to be separated from the people they’ve called family.

“On three,” Shawn put his hand in and everyone follow suit. They huddled for once last time and cheered loudly together.

“You are not going to make me cry right now” Alessia shook her head when Shawn requested that they (him, her, Brian, Connor, Liv and you) moved to the corner of the hall for a group talk “No way in hell, Mendes”

Shawn laughs in return and slipped his arms around her and you while the six of you gathered in a circle “It’s been a fucking crazy ride, hasn’t it?”

“That’s thanks to you, man” Connor spoke up from your other side. When you looked over at him, you noticed the tears in his eyes as he continued to speak “I’m so grateful that you took me along with you on this tour. It’s been so great having to work with you and being around all of you 24/7. I’m really going to miss it”

“Shut up!” Brian cried, trying not to tear up “Shut up! Stop trying to make me cry!”

The rest of you let out a laugh and Liv teased him “Craigen’s gone soft, huh?”

“The rest of the tour is going to be great” Alessia stated with confidence “You’re going to kill it, Shawn. And knowing that Brian and y/n are still going to be around with you tells me that it’s not going to be boring for either of you”

“Nothing’s going to be the same without you three” You shook your head with a sad smile on your face, “Exploring the cities aren’t going to be as fun as it was when it was the six of us. Everything is going to be so different”

“We’re one video call away,” Liv promised “Wherever you are, whatever time it is, we’re there”

“And you’ll be back before you know it” Connor confirmed as his grip around your waist tightened “Then we’ll meet up and go back to being complete idiots doing stupid shits together just like we were on tour” He grinned.

Shawn chuckled, “That’s the plan, man” He nodded.

“I love you guys, for real” Brian stated. “Group hug?”

“Group hug!” Alessia exclaims as the six of you squeezed yourself in for a big tight hug for one last time.

“Do you guys want a picture together?” Josiah spoke up from behind after you all pulled away. He was smiling, proud that he caught the moment of the group hug he knew was very special for the six of you.

The six of you posed for him a few times as he took many photos and then Alessia was off to perform her set.

You, Connor, Brian and Liv were standing by the tech booth near the front barricade for Alessia’s set. For every show, you tried your best to come out in the crowd with the other three during her performances, and now that you were watching her for the last time; you just knew you were going to miss seeing her go crazy on stage.

“Tonight’s a bit special and also emotional for all of us,” Alessia spoke into the mic after the song ended “Tonight is my last show as the opening act for the Shawn Mendes tour. I wouldn’t have been able to perform in so many different cities so to Shawn and the crew, thank you so much for letting me be a part of this amazing experience. And to the fans, thank you for all your support. I love you all from the bottom of my heart”

“As you know, I just released an EP today…”

“And one of the songs talks about my entire experience of being a part of this tour,” She continued to explain while grabbing her guitar from the side. The crowd cheered loudly for her “About the people I’ve been blessed to meet and work with for the past few months”

“So, this one is dedicated to my tour family” She concluded as the drum starts playing while the big screen behind her starts a countdown from 3 to 1.

It started with that old video of the six of you from Germany that Connor filmed; exploring the city late at night after a couple of drinks in the bar. The video continues to more random moments throughout the tour that were filmed by different people.

Tears were forming in your eyes as all the memories came rushing in while looking at the short clips projected on the big screens. The ones of you, Alessia and Liv lip syncing to a song you couldn’t remember; Shawn and Brian pulling the whipped cream prank on Connor; dance sessions; playing tag around the arenas together; silly rehearsal sessions with the bands; water gun fights by the lake.

You turned around from her, feeling all these emotions rushing into your body. When you met Connor’s gaze, you saw the tears in his eyes as well. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. The crowd was singing along with her as you let the tears roll down your cheeks, burying your head in the crook of his neck.

“Baby,” He muttered in your ear “I love you”

He pushed you away just enough to look at your face. Connor wiped your tears away and you smiled at him softly, mouthing “I love you too” before tip-toeing and pressing your lips against his.

The arena was so loud but at that moment, it felt like it was just you and Connor in the room. And to you, that was the only thing that mattered.

xxx

“’M tired” Connor muttered as he slips into bed behind you around 1am. He wraps his arms around your body and pulled you closer “Can we sleep through the morning tomorrow?”

You laughed softly and turn your body to face him. The room was dark except for the table lamp illuminating low light from Connor’s side of the bed. You nodded, “Whatever you want, bub”

Connor sleepily smiled at you and laced your fingers together “Shawn told me what happened” He admitted a minute later.

You huffed in annoyance that your best friend ratted you out when you thought he would’ve kept quiet about it “Of course he did”

“You know I’d go anywhere with you, right?” He asked “I’d walk to you if you asked me to”

You snorted, thinking back to the exact thing Shawn said earlier in the day “Yeah, Shawn said the same thing”

“I would love to continue the tour” Connor stated as he brought his hand up to your head and ran his fingers through your hair “I want nothing more to be with you, babe”

“But UCLA” You answered for him when you noticed the pause in his sentence. He smiled sadly and nodded “I get it, bub, I do” You told him.

“I promised my parents” He said softly “I promised them I’d put university on hold for 6 months max and it took me a lot of convincing to make them agree”

“I’m not asking you to go against your parents, Con” You shook your head “But I can’t deny that tour is going to be hard without you”

“I know, sweetheart” Connor said with sympathy “But it’s just 3 months, okay? I promise it’s gonna be quick and then we’ll see each other in December”

You nodded “Yeah, I guess. And hey, what’d you think if I enrolled there next year?”

“UCLA?” He asked surprisingly “Really? Wasn’t University of Toronto the plan?”

You shrugged, “It was the plan because I wasn’t open to any other options but now… Maybe I can start looking around outside of Canada too. Shawn’s taking a break from performing next year so he doesn’t need his personal assistant”

“You coming to UCLA would be the dream come true for me, love” Connor sighed happily “But what about your parents?”

“My parents would say yes if I told them I wanted to study in the UK” You said in a teasing voice “So, I think they’d be fine with me studying in LA, babe”

“Come to LA after Christmas and I’ll show you around the campus” He said before letting out a yawn “Make sure it’s really what you want, you know?”

“Mhmm, sounds like a plan” You agreed “Now let��s sleep, pretty boy. Shawn has that party tomorrow night and that idiot is going to get all of us so wasted till we can’t walk”

Connor chuckles lowly, before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your lips “I love you, babe”

“Love you too, bubs”

#connor brashier #connor brashier imagines #connor brashier x reader #connor brashier fic #teen fiction #imagines

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robinrunsfiction · 5 years ago

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Someone Save My Soul

Part Two of Like A Secret In Your Throat

Pairing: Vampire!Mikey Way x Gender Neutral Reader Rating: General Requested By: Anon Word Count: ~2,100 Author’s Note: Mentions of blood, death, you know... vampire stuff

Never in your life had you felt such a strange mix of emotions. You were ecstatic that Mikey not only was back in your life, but that he was also in love with you. You had been certain you were falling for him as well before he disappeared. At the same time, you were confused because if you had been asked hours ago if vampires were real, you would have said of course not. But you couldn’t deny the fact that a vampire had just held you against your door threatening you, and then your boyfriend came out of nowhere and saved your life. You couldn’t deny the fangs you felt when he kissed you. This was your reality now.

“Mikey, can you stay with me tonight? I’d feel better if you were here with everything… and I missed you,” you asked softly.

“Of course,” he replied with a nod. Before you could realize what was happening, he had effortlessly scooped you up in his arms and carried you to your room before setting you down on your bed. You were giggling as you climbed under the covers and Mikey kicked off his shoes before climbing in next to you.

Mikey wrapped his arms around you, and you settled in against his side, the adrenaline of the evening wearing off quickly. Mikey pressed another kiss to the top of your head, and you were asleep almost as soon as your eyes closed.

The next morning when you woke up the sunlight was streaming in your window and Mikey was nowhere to be found. All that was left was a note in his scrawling handwriting.

(YN), I had to go before dawn and you looked so peaceful sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you up. I’ll talk to you soon, I promise. Love Mikey

You smiled and sighed. He was back and he was yours.

As the middle of summer cooled into the start of fall, you and Mikey had fallen back to the routine of how things were before he left, for the most part. He had moved into Gerard’s spacious basement level apartment that provided ample darkness during the day so you spent a lot of your free time there. You didn’t go out on as many dates as you used to, as Mikey was still self-conscious about his new state, but you didn’t mind as long as you were with him.

It was another quiet night in Mikey’s room and what had started as watching a movie, but quickly moved to making out and not paying any attention to what was on the TV. You were laying back on his bed, your hand running through his dark hair as he laid over you. You deepened the kiss and tugged him toward you, the millimeters separating you being too much space. His hand was on your waist as he let his lips travel to your jaw, then down to your neck, kissing tenderly until suddenly you felt the sharpness of his fangs glance across your soft skin. You gasped and looked up at Mikey who was looking at you shocked, but the way his pupils were blown gave away the lust he was also feeling.

Suddenly there was a knocking on the bedroom door that caused you both to jump. “You guys in there?” Gerard called from the other side.

“Yea,” Mikey sighed before sitting up. “Come in.”

“Hey (YN), I’m glad you’re here, I gotta talk to you,” Gerard said walking in.

You glanced at Mikey who looked back at you just as confused. “What’s up?”

“Now that its autumn its getting dark out sooner. I’ve also noticed the other vampires are more active and aggressive. I know neither me or Mikey would want anything to happen to you, so if you have to be out at night, be really careful.”

“Thanks for looking out for me Gee,” you nodded in understanding. Then you glanced at Mikey who seemed lost in thought.

There was so much Mikey hadn’t told you yet surrounding the circumstances of him becoming a vampire, and with Gerard’s warning, you needed answers. “Mikey, what happened that night?” you asked when Gerard closed the door behind him.

Mikey sighed and looked down at his hands. “I don’t want you to worry.”

“Mikey,” you snapped, “your brother has made it very clear that I could be in danger. Please tell me what’s going on!”

“It’s a long story,” he replied looking up at you.

“Tell it, I have time.”

Mikey sighed again. “Me and Gee’s great grandfather was a vampire hunter. We didn’t know, it was something we found out after they got Gerard. When he immigrated to the U.S. he thought he had gotten rid of all the vampires in his homeland, but one escaped him and vowed revenge. Jump to a couple years ago when they came after Gerard and changed him, thinking that being a vampire would be a fate worse than death for the descendant of a hunter. The vampire didn’t realize that Gerard would think it’s the coolest thing to ever happen to him,” Mikey chuckled.

“But why attack you after all the time Gerard has been a vampire?”

“Gee laid low for a long time, not totally sure what to do. He met a couple other vampires, you know those guys Ray and Frank I’ve talked about? They helped him out and I guess word finally got back to the one that changed him and he decided to come after me. If Gerard hadn’t been waiting for me to show up at the movie theater, I would have died that night. I don't mean undead, but really dead.”

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered after taking it all in. “Did it hurt? Being changed?”

“I don’t know, I was totally out when it happened. But when I woke up a couple nights later every part of me hurt from the inside out. It took about a week to feel better and then it was just adjusting to everything. I feel bad that Gerard had to go through that alone.”

“Wow,” you sat stunned, not realizing the extent of everything Mikey and his brother had been through. “Again, I’m so sorry babe,” you said leaning over and wrapping your arms around Mikey.

“(YN), can I ask you something?” He asked and you pulled back and nodded. “Would you ever want to become a vampire?”

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it. There were parts of it that appealed to you, but you were nervous too. “I think so, why?”

“I wasn’t given the option, but now that I am a vampire, I may as well embrace it. And if anything happened, I wouldn’t want to lose you,” he paused. “We could be together forever,” he added softly, looking up at you.

“You would want that?” you asked, a smile forming on your face.

“Yea,” he replied shyly. “I love you (YN) and I wanna spend forever with you,” he leaned in and kissed you passionately.

You were still grinning into the kiss when a thought popped into your head. “Halloween!” you exclaimed as you pulled back.

“What about it?”

“What if you changed me into a vampire on Halloween?”

Mikey smiled bigger than you had ever seen and nodded. “Let’s do it then, and maybe before we could have a ceremony or something?”

You almost felt like you could cry you were so happy in that moment, making plans for forever with your love Mikey. You were ready and Halloween couldn’t arrive soon enough.

You hurried along with Mikey toward his place with Gerard. Soon it would be your place too as you and Mikey were about to commit to each other forever and you were about to willingly give up your humanity to him.

The sky got dark earlier than normal as storm clouds hung overhead, blocking the setting sun. You had a garment bag slung over your arm holding your specially selected all black ensemble for tonight’s activities, you other hand intertwined with Mikey’s. As you were about to round the corner to their building Mikey started looking around nervously. “Hurry,” he said starting to run. You could barely keep up with his pace when suddenly a dark form landed in your path.

“Bringing us a fresh meal?” the vampire asked crudely.

“Leave ‘em alone,” Mikey snarled back.

The vampire lunged at you, but Mikey threw himself in the path, knocking the other vampire away.

“(YN) go get Gee, hurry!” Mikey called over his shoulder.

You took off down the street toward their building as the clouds overhead opened up and an icy cold rain started to fall. You hurried down the slippery steps, banging on the door. “Gerard! Mikey needs help!” You shouted desperately.

The door flew open and Gerard looked at you frantically. You didn’t expect him to be dressed up to witness your ceremony, but he had taken it upon himself to look presentable with his hair swept back, wearing a fitted waistcoat over a button down shirt. “Where is he?”

You pointed in the direction you had just come from and he took off running. You watched for a moment before turning to the safety of the apartment. Before you could cross the threshold someone grabbed you by the arm, pulling you around to face them before pushing you roughly against the brick wall of the building.

The next thing you knew, you were waking up in a bed and you felt like you had been run over by a bus. You opened your eyes and they quickly adjusted to the dark, allowing you to make out a dark figure sitting at the end of the bed, their head hung low.

“Mikey?” you whispered hoarsely.

He looked up and hurried to your side. “(YN), I’m so sorry,” he said, taking your hand.

“What happened?” you asked, confusion and anxiety overwhelming you.

“You… you were attacked, but (YN), you’re a vampire now.”

Gerard and Mikey had hurried back toward their building after fighting off the vampire, but as they approached their building a familiar metallic smell overwhelmed them both.

“Who did they get?” Gerard asked before he noticed Mikey had taken off running toward the door.

“(YN)! (YN) no!” he was shouting and Gerard ran up next to him. You were laying on the ground in front of the door in a pool of your own blood. Mikey was on his knees, holding your frail, limp body, tears rushing down his face.

Gerard knelt down and found your pulse on the side of your neck that wasn’t torn open. “(YN) isn’t dead yet! Mikey if you’re gonna change 'em, do it now, or they’re gonna die!”

This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go. You had been so excited about your new outfit that you were going to wear, and the ceremony, and for all this to happen on Halloween. He had planned all the things he wanted to say to you, professing his love for you and how he knew you were the one from the moment you met, and how it was confirmed when you didn’t reject him as some kind of monster. He had asked the other vampires he had met how to make being changed the least painful experience for you. Now all the thoughtful preparations and excited planning were for nothing.

“Mikey!” Gerard barked at him and pulled him back to attention. “Do it now!”

Mikey nodded silently, afraid his voice would fail. He shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves before tearing into his own flesh. The trickle of blood began and he moved the wound to your lips.

“Please love, please,” he repeated like a mantra, willing you to take enough of his blood to save yourself.

Suddenly you sat up with a gasp, eyes open wide, before collapsing back. Mikey looked at Gerard in terror. “What happened?!” He shrieked.

“(YN) is a vampire now,” Gerard replied calmly. “Come on, let’s get ‘em inside and in bed. It's going to be a couple days.”

Mikey sat at the foot of your bed until you woke up, not even noticing the hours passing. He took your hand and explained everything that had happened. You looked over at the garment bag hanging on the closet door. It looked like someone had hastily tried to wipe off the blood, but it was still there, a cruel reminder of the night you didn’t get.

“But you changed me right?” you asked, unable to stop the tears Mikey’s own sorrow had brought on.

“Yea, it was me,” he nodded.

“That’s the most important part. We’ll have our ceremony another time,” you said bravely.

“I love you so much (YN),” Mikey said leaning in and kissing you gently.

Part 3 coming eventually

#mikey way x reader #vampire!mikey way x reader #mikey way fan fic #mikey way fan ficiton #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan ficiton #mikey way fan fiction #mikey way imagine #my chemical romance fan fiction

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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Under Her Eye - Chapter 1: The Commander's Wife (Branjie) - Gab

a/n: I decided to write this Handmaid’s Tale AU completely because I couldn’t stop imaging Brooke in the blue-green dress Serena Joy wears in the show. I tried to make sure that this would make sense even without having read or watched the Handmaid’s Tale. It doesn’t really have spoilers from the show but it does operate in exactly the same universe. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Commander’s Wife

word count: 2061

Brooke Lynn Hytes was terribly lucky.

Well, terribly being the operative word. She was not dead nor a slave, but the world is terrible, and she got lucky.

The world in question is Gilead, a bloody dictatorship drenched in gospel, carved into what once was the United States of America. On the outside, it was a picture of peace: white, gorgeous buildings in the city centers, surrounded by the large, sprawling homes of the commanders. Trees dotting the clean streets as women in red walked in pairs, to and from the shopping district. All you have to do is ignore the soldiers, known as Guardians, stationed at every block, gun in hand. All you have to do is ignore the wall decorated with the hanging bodies of heretics and rebels. All you have to do is shut your ears to the deafening silence of the slaves they name handmaids. Yes, it certainly is peaceful.

The war broke out so slowly it was as if it had been leading to this moment for a thousand years. It started with a few controversial figures preaching across TV screens. Then laws changed, then borders closed, then people were taken, silenced, murdered. It was a crack in the mirror, slowly spreading, branching, twisting until you could no longer see a reflection through the panes of glass. Until you forgot what reflection was supposed to be there in the first place. Until you found relief in the shatter because finally, we see clearly again. Until you forgot that seeing clearly meant no longer seeing what once was. Gilead was the shatter, where society was completely knocked down and replaced. Commanders ruled the country as though they were touched by God. Wives belonged to their husbands. Handmaids bore children they could never keep. Marthas cooked and cleaned. Unwomen worked and died. Everyone pretended they were happy doing God’s work. No one was.

Life was superficial at most, and at the very least, it was placating. Wives didn’t complain, Marthas did as they were told, and Handmaids shut their mouths. If anyone remembered the time before the war, they dismissed it as a dream, pushed those memories so far down the recesses of their brains so maybe, just maybe, they would forget how sweet freedom tasted.

Brooke remembered. She remembered the rows upon rows of books lined in her family’s study. She remembered dancing ballet in her studio, floating above the wooden floor. She remembered the day she was promoted to partner in her father’s firm. She remembered kissing girls and giggling in empty hallways and conference rooms. She remembered her father bringing her to museums and historical sites, telling her to learn their history so it never repeats. She also remembered the days leading up to the war. How she had watched the book burnings in the streets. How she cried when they told her she couldn’t dance anymore. How they had stripped her of her position in her father’s firm, just as they would’ve appointed her CEO. How her past girlfriends had slowly disappeared into black vans, never to be seen again. How she sat by her father’s deathbed as he whispered his goodbyes, his apologies. How she signed her name on a marriage certificate next to that of the man who took her place in her father’s company. How her father asked her to marry George, just before Gilead formed, just before his last breath.

He is a man of God. He will keep you safe. He will keep you alive. These last words echoed in her ears when she signed away her possessions, her body, her life to the man who is now her husband. Her father didn’t say he would be kind. He didn’t say he would be good. Just that he would keep her safe.

He will keep you alive. The word was cruelty dressed in kindness.

George Hytes was a powerful man, and he did as every powerful man did: seek more power. He sat on Gilead’s highest council, making decisions for people he would never know, signing away the freedoms of people he would never meet. Brooke didn’t know what he was in charge of, now that the firm had been absorbed by the state. She didn’t know and she would never know. Her place wasn’t there anymore, it was at his home, playing the part of his perfect wife. He never hurt her at least, he was never cruel or abusive. Simply cold, much to Brooke’s gratitude. She knew she had more than most. She had a beautiful home, a Martha—what this new society called their housekeepers—named Nina, and all the knitting yarn and baked bread she could want. Her husband demanded nothing of her, he didn’t touch her. And if Nina screamed on days he came home drunk, if the handmaid cried out late at night behind a locked door, Brooke couldn’t say a thing. She simply sunk into her mattress, forcing her mind to go numb, forcing her eyes to close and let her escape for just a few hours.

Brooke’s daily routine started with her waking up just as the sun was rising. She would brush her blonde hair back and watch it fall just short of her shoulders, slick and out of the way. The long blue dress she was made to wear was stiff but elegant, and hit just above her ankles. No makeup, no perfume—she wouldn’t know where to begin looking for those anymore. The stores sold little else than essentials these days. They said it was to conserve resources for the war effort in the west, and yet there was always an abundance of prayer books and rosaries, lined with gold and pearl. Even the lotion she spread on her hands and neck was contraband, a luxury she could afford with the little pull she had left. She looked herself over, never longer than she needed to, tucking a stray hair behind her ear before heading out the door. Her husband was off again today, travelling across the country, motivating troops or whatever else he did. She didn’t know, didn’t ask. Brooke never had much to do anymore except for her daily appearance at the park with the other wives and the odd invitation to a gathering or a baby shower. She didn’t engage by choice, it was time wasted on insincere conversations with women just as clout-hungry as her husband, but it beat going crazy attempting to knit. All that, however, was in the afternoon, hours away. She went straight to her sitting room, drawing the curtains slightly and lighting a cigarette. Another luxury she risked enjoying, but never outside, never where someone could see. She was on her last box, maybe that was a sign of some sort. She could quit. She could find something that could kill her faster than a morning smoke. Just as she allowed herself a few more moments of contemplation, she heard footsteps down the hall, and a small push on her door.

“Pancakes Mrs. Hytes?” Nina bustled through Brooke’s sitting room, more jolly than usual. Well, more jolly than when Mr. Hytes was around. Nina paused at Brooke’s desk, looking at her with a furrowed brow. “You should really quit with those things. I’m not sure if I can get you more.” Nina said seriously, but with a glint in her eye that suggested she’d try anyway. She’d keep trying. Brooke smiled as she accepted the breakfast.

“I’ll try if you do.”

Nina chuckled, shaking her head. How she managed to have any joy in this world was beyond Brooke. The older woman was a quiet comfort most days, her demeanor being especially light when the commander wasn’t around. Sometimes Brooke would ask her to talk to her in her sitting room, or during her meals, or as she sat in her bath. They weren’t allowed to talk about their old life, but bits and pieces slipped through. Nina would talk about her children, her dogs, her love for baking french pastries and reading stories to children in the libraries. It was an escape, a glimpse of something real. Nina never let it last however, she would end each story with a laugh full of sadness. Could you imagine having to take care of dogs? Imagine having to teach little girls to read? Goodness, things are much simpler now aren’t they? Almost like she was trying to convince herself of that very fact. Brooke couldn’t judge, they all had to cope somehow. As she sat and ate, Nina listed down her schedule and reminders for the day.

“Of course there’s your stroll after lunch, we’ve been sent good weather after all! Oh and the Baileys are inviting you to tea this afternoon so I’ve told the driver to prepare for that and um… oh! Yes, the new handmaid is set to arrive this evening—”

“Wait, come again?”

“Oh the new handmaid? The center is sending one over tonight seeing as our current Ofgeorge is to be sent to the colonies. She left just a while ago.” This stunned Brooke for a moment, but it wasn’t the first time she was kept in the dark under her own roof.

“What did she do?”

“Oh you know, she’s been with a few commanders and well…” Nina trailed off, trying to keep a sympathetic smile on her face. Brooke knew what that meant. She hadn’t gotten pregnant. And by the laws of state and scripture, if the fruit is rotten, so is the womb. “But nothing to fear! Our new Ofgeorge would be here soon enough. We’ll get a baby into your arms yet, Mrs. Hytes!” She said, happily tidying up the plates as Brooke finished.

“Praise be.” Brooke muttered absently. The thought of having a child through this system disgusted her at first. The idea of the handmaid disgusted her. Her husband, raping a poor girl, as she watched, as she held her down. After the first night of the ritual, Brooke had thrown up, cried into her pillow for days. She knew it would happen, she had been told it was the will of God, but to sit there, hold the girl, see the fear and sadness well up in her eyes because she was forbidden to let it reach her mouth, it was monstrous. Brooke was a monster, and she let that thought consume her, torture her every day until she was numb. Until she felt nothing. She never knew Ofgeorge’s real name, the handmaid was forbidden to say it. As far as anyone in Gilead was concerned, the handmaid belonged to her commander as though she was a branded possession in a bright red coat. Perhaps it was easier that way, possessions couldn’t feel pain. Possessions couldn’t be hurt. And if Brooke didn’t look her in the eye on the nights of the ritual, maybe she could believe it. Maybe she could stay numb.

The hours ticked by as the sun began to set, and Brooke was shedding her coat and gloves from a dull tea time with the Baileys. She sat at her desk, absentmindedly twirling some stray yarn around her finger, almost forgetting about the last item on today’s agenda when Nina entered her sitting room.

“Mrs. Hytes? Our new Ofgeorge is here.” Nina said warmly, gesturing to the small figure behind her draped in red, her hair covered in a white cap. Brooke breathed deeply, nodding at the two to enter as she rose from her seat.

“Blessed be the fruit, Ofgeorge.” Brooke said, taking in her appearance. She was much shorter than her, with deep caramel skin and dark curls peeking out from under her cap. Her eyelashes fluttered, eyes flitting nervously around the room. Her hands were clasped in front of her far too tightly to be in prayer, as if each fist was holding back the other. She was biting her lips so hard that they were turning red.

God, she is beautiful.

Brooke’s thought came without warning, catching her by surprise. Almost cruel how some sensations can crawl their way out of repression so quietly. Her heart sped up, and in that moment she feared that someone would hear it. The handmaid’s eyes locked with hers, and she swears that in those eyes she saw fire and energy and anger and life.

“May the Lord open.”

#rpdr fanfiction #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #lesbian au #hurt/comfort #angst #the handmaid's tale au #under her eye #gab #tw rape #tw abuse #tw homophobia #tw religious fanaticism #tw mentions of suicide #concrit welcome

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morphituu · 5 years ago

Text

Milagro

Chapter 9: “Mexico”

Ch: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8

Nick’s grimace was just as skeptical as Daryl’s, the pair staring through the window at the older model SUV Fero had proudly come upon without much explanation.

We needed a car, so I got one, he’d only said, but the officers would’ve bet every penny they had that if they opened the drivers side, they’d find twisted wires hanging from the steering column.

“We’re gonna stick out like a sore thumb in that thing,” Nick stated the obvious, but Ward still scoffed.

“Two elves, an Orc and two humans getting into a car together is cause enough for concern,” Ward shook his head.

“They’re not looking for cars filled with passengers, though. They’re looking for Bright’s who rely on magic to get them where they’re going. We’ll slip right under their radar as long as we travel carefully.” Tikka explained, coming from one of the rooms with new clothes on, ones that better melded into everyday life. Nick did a double take; it was amazing how well brown contacts could mask her true identity. She went from elf to valley girl in a matter of minutes.

“It was supposed to be a routine call, just to check-up on some suspicious activity then leave,” Nick rubbed his forehead, recalling the stormy night.

“That’s when she attacked you guys?” Callie asked, sitting cross-legged before him on the bed.

“No. It was a Shield of Light base that had been attacked, and then we found her with the bodies,”

“What was she doing there?”

“Running from Inferni, her sister,”

Callie’s brow cocked. “Her sister?”

“For you,” she handed Daryl a razor, already a stream of protests coming from him. “And you. I can make those appear long again,” she explained, pointing to his face.

“M...my tusks?” Nick touched his lip cautiously, brows knit together in concern. “You can grow them back?”

“No,” she pulled the wand from her back pocket now, her hand unexpectedly holding under his jaw.

“Woah hey hey hey,” Ward tried to step between them, but she already had it pointed excruciatingly close, and in this proximity, he could see how the light moved down the small cracks and grooves of it’s enchanted wooden design, but the glowing never grew past the small trails of twisting, ethereal light it emitted.

Nick could feel a tugging on his filed teeth, and the feather-light touch of the wands essence grazing against his chin and cheeks, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him to hesitantly touch the two impressive, curved tusks once Tikka had withdrawn her hand.

“Holy fuck,” Daryl mumbled, wide eyed and unable to pull his eyes away. “You look like a damn Orc,”

He could feel them with his tongue, but he needed to see.

Nick pushed past them, leaving Tikka to turn and watch as he moved to the bathroom.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she barked, getting ready so stand.

“Sit down, he had reason-” Nick tried grabbing her arms.

“Fuck reason!”

“Callie! Sit down!” he hissed, but she hesitated before sitting reluctantly, arms crossed and face flattened in anger. “He thought I’d let his shooter go over Clan Law,”

“Why couldn’t he just ask you?”

“He had. I’d lied,” he shrugged. “It wouldn’t have held up in court, so I covered my ass,”

She sighed. “And then your captain tried to frame you,”

He nodded, remorseful at the call of bitter memories. “He covered me, more than I could’ve ever expected,”

Apprehension gripped him before he flipped on the light, staring at what he knew was his reflection, but didn’t recognize. Looking at photos before they’d been filed was one thing, but to see the image of what he once was before his decision exiled him from his own race left him… dejected.

When it came down to it, was it only tusks that set him apart from other Orcs? Despite being full-blooded, absolutely Orkish to the way he walked and the family that surrounded him, why did others only look at this?

It’s because you look human without them.

He bared his teeth, moving his head side to side to detail their appearance, how it felt to have them pressed effortlessly against his top lip when he closed his jaws. He really did look more Orkish.

“They’ll fall off in a few hours,” Tikka stood in the door frame, but he didn’t look at her.

He stared at his own yellow eyes. Why’d you ever do this?

She shifted, fixing her bag at her side. “We should get going,”

Nick nodded, dropping his gaze. There were no words offered as he squeezed past her, heading to the back room where Callie napped as they finished collecting themselves.

He didn’t knock, but he didn’t walk in immediately, either. How would she react?

“I’m awake,” She called softly, curled around her stomach at the edge of the bed.

“We hit a fucking Binding Spell. We could only stay within a certain radius before the wand started acting up, and we couldn’t leave Tikka behind. She was like a child,” he went on.

“You couldn’t have called for other officers? Anyone?”

He shook his head. “Who’s to say they weren’t like Chang and the others? They would’ve killed all three of us to get their hands on the wand,”

“They wouldn’t have been able to hold it though,” Callie tried, but he shook his head.

“There’s ways to get around that,”

She exhaled, still holding his hands. “So you had a Bright, Altimira and LAPD after you,”

“Not just them,” he mumbled, looking at her with tired eyes.

He closed the door behind himself. “You alright?”

She nodded, her face still hidden in the pillow with his uniform shirt draped over her upper half. “He hasn’t let me sleep much,” she explained groggily, her hand resting over his after he’d sat beside her.

Slow swipes over her curvature revealed that Leo really was spinning, pressing here and there. It stirred a soft grin across his tusked lips.

“Woah,”

His eyes flew to hers.

“Your teeth,” she noted, slowly sitting up.

“Part of my disguise,” he quoted, forgetting that he couldn’t run his tongue over a clipped tusk anymore. “Is it that bad?”

“No, not at all. I’ve only seen pictures of you like this,” she studied innocently, running the pad of her thumb up one softly.

“Tikka said they’d fall off in a few hours,”

Callie scooted closer, her feet resting on the ground. “You don’t sound too thrilled about that,”

He shrugged, lowering his gaze. “I didn’t recognize myself when I looked in the mirror. Not just my reflection, but,” he motioned his hands about himself. “My entirety. I was a completely different person. I was still an Orc,”

Callie had to repeat his words to herself, but then she inched closer, leaning in until he looked at her. “Why would you say that?” She asked sadly, her head following his when he shifted, his expression sorrowing. “Mande, mi amore?”

She glanced up at him after tugging down the collar of his shirt, the pads of her fingers moving over the frayed scar. An injury at work is what he’d always told her.

But then there was the time in the hospital he’d come out with some of the truth. Dorghu had shot him, he’d said, but never had he mentioned he’d… died.

“I’m okay,” he assured, rubbing her arms after she’d scooted to sit directly before him, unwilling to let him go.

“You actually died, died?” she choked, looking at him frantically. Nick nodded, grabbing her hand to hold tenderly.

“Tikka brought me back. Ward had said it was less than a minute, but it felt like days I was stuck in that void,” he recalled. The floating emptiness during that time still unsettled him. It was like being absent from your own body, unable to form coherent thoughts as time dragged by. “I came back in better shape than before, actually,”

She was still gawking at him, her color a few shades lighter and jaw dropped, eyes starting to gloss over. “You died,”

“Baby,” he held her face, her grip strong around his wrists. “I lived. I found you,”

She blinked away the tears, pressing her face tight against his collar when he hugged her. To think the man she’d come to love so boundlessly and child she carried could never have existed in her life put things into perspective, to say the least. She clung tighter to him, her fingers curling in his jacket. What would there be without him?

“So then?” she asked, sitting back.

“They… let us go,” he knew that sounded ridiculous, and the look she gave him only solidified that.

“What if I could’ve fought harder to keep them? I was so hellbent on becoming a cop that I let them take this away from me,” he motioned towards his face. Nick already knew how to speak around the tusks; it was like years hadn’t passed and they’d never been filed down in a cold dentists office, his hands gripping the chair until his knuckles rang with pain.

“They shouldn’t have made that a requirement,” she agreed, holding his large hands.

“They don’t make people cover their tattoos or centaurs dock their tales, so why me? Maybe I wouldn’t be so hated by everyone if I’d found some way to keep them. I tried too hard to be normal and I still fucked up,”

Callie barely made out the last part when his voice started to break. “Don’t do that, baby. You did what they said because you had a dream, and you made it come true. They never should have made you or even Sergey clip your tusks, but even if- there was no way you could’ve made everyone happy. You worked so hard, please don’t let this bring you down from the mountain you conquered. You’re still Orc just as much as anyone else, no matter how you look,” she stated firmly, her eyes unwavering as she held his face, wiping a stray tear that slipped out, the inner turmoil swirling in his ambers.

“You’re still Nick. You’re still Orc. No one can ever take that from you,” she said softer, her forehead resting against his when his cheek leaned into her touch. He took in deep breaths as she lead him from the dark cloud he wandered through in his mind, his hands that had been gripping her thighs now moving up to hold the sides of her stomach.

“Can’t imagine the aftercare from a bite like that,” she cracked softly, and was elated to see his grin, and hear a throaty chuckle.

“Don’t know if I’d be able to do much with these,”

Carefully she tilted her head just enough to plant a firm kiss on his lips, stirring a throaty growl. Now he held her face as they exchanged a few more sweet pecks, reluctantly leaning back from her space when she smiled too wide to continue.

“Still do that,” she giggled, but drawled into a long sigh when he pulled her to his chest, holding her tightly.

“What would I do without you?” he said into her hair, his face pinching in embarrassment when his blood started to rush after scenting her.

“He grabbed the wand. He killed Leilah,” he nodded slowly, staring off beside her. “Tikka had slinked off by then, and we didn’t know if she was okay until she popped up during that award ceremony,”

“Did you see her again after that?”

“No, that’s when she disappeared. All those years that passed I started to wonder if it’d all been a hallucination. It all happened so fast and then it ended, like nothing had ever happened. It was trippy,” he said into his palm, an elbow rested on his knee. “Life just went on after that. A little easier, albeit,”

“How’s that?” she asked, leaned against the headboard beside him with pillows supporting her achy back.

“I was blooded after that night,”

“So that did have to do with the wand?”

He nodded. “The building we were in was on fire and by the time I made it out, I realized Ward wasn’t with me so I ran back in to get him,”

Callie grinned. “You saved him?”

Nick nodded, the corner of his mouth pulling in for a crooked half smile. “Officially Fogteeth,”

Her head rested back. “Wow,”

Nick leaned back with her, nodding. He hoped unloading his master secret didn’t inadvertently burden her, but God did it feel good finally getting all that shit off his chest. He looked down to find her hand, lacing their fingers and holding it in his lap. When she didn’t move, he bumped her arm.

“Too much?” he asked.

She shook her head. “That’s why you didn’t like my neighborhood, huh? I literally live two blocks from Abrams Street,”

Nick shrugged.

“You should’ve told me sooner,”

“I couldn’t. MTF has everything tapped,”

Her eyes widened. “Everything?”

“I wouldn’t surprised. Definitely my phone,”

She sat forward, glaring. “I’ve sent nudes!”

“So have I,”

She hit his arm. “Our sex tape!” she hissed, but after a few beats of silence, they both laughed, only able to imagine what kind of stir that caused across the agents face who monitored that. At the thought of Kandomere possibly being the one to unfortunately observe that- someone who absolutely hated Orcs, maybe even more than humans- Nick was breathless, tears starting to pool in his eyes as he hunched over into Callie’s lap, his big body shaking from laughter.

“Hey,” he pulled from her, hands sliding across her sides to hold her stomach. “You buckled and asked, didn’t you?” he eyed her suspiciously, but she blew air between her lips.

“It was Dr. Sangui’s fault, actually. She blurted it out during an ultrasound,” Callie grinned, looking down to watch his hands move over her stomach.

“No shit?” he chuckled, matching her soft smile.

“I was gonna put another sticky note on the door to his room that said his name to see if you’d notice,” she confessed.

“I would’ve noticed right away,” he leaned farther in, kissing her stomach before resting his forehead against it. “I look at it everytime I pass,”

It was quiet then, Callie rubbing his shoulders and Nick simply holding her, letting this gentle moment envelope him.

“My boy,” he uttered softly. “He’s gonna look like you,”

“You think?”

“Boys take after their moms,” he reasoned, sitting up with a final kiss and pass of his palm over her stomach.

“You look exactly like your dad,”

“That’s an Orc thing. You’re human, he’ll look like you,”

“With your color,” she grinned, the pair daydreaming.

A few soft rapts against the door made them both flinch, and Ward stuck his head in, now bare faced. “You two ready to bounce?”

Callie withheld any comment, but her raised brows echoed everything he had mumbled to himself while he shaved off his impressive mustache.

“Not particularly,” Nick grumbled, turning back to Callie.

“Wait-” they heard Tikka call from outside the room, squeezing past Ward to amble up to the pair as she dug in her bag. “You get these,”

Handed to her was a small container with contacts inside still floating in the solution.

“Wear these with your hood up and you’ll look like an Elf,” Tikka explained, and Callie’s head snapped up.

“Isn’t disguising myself as an Elf even more suspicious?” she asked, pulling her hair into a bun and slipping her hood up.

“But you won’t look like you, and that’s what we want,” the Bright said before leaving the room again, meeting Fero who was finishing loading up the SUV.

Nick stood first to help her stand, and followed her to the bathroom to watch her meticulously put the contacts in.

“I’m going to vomit,” she sang, holding her eyelid up. “I’m going to puke,” she forced, straining to keep her eyes open as she popped the contact in. With a groan and shuddering shimmy of her shoulders, she blinked it into position, pausing to look in the mirror.

Another small fit, and the other one was in, leaving herself, and Nick, and Ward- who’d peeked in curiously- staring back at her in the mirror, amazed at the difference.

“I don’t like that,” Nick said with a sour face, but Callie shrugged.

“I think I look kinda cool,” she doted, pulling her hood tighter over her dark hair.

“Yeah but how often do you see pregnant elves?” Ward asked, and the two looked at him. “They use surrogates,”

“Ghetto Elf then,” Callie piped, and Nick nudged her arm. “So? Does it look believable?” she asked, turning before the men who were looking at her just as skeptical as they did the SUV. The longer they all looked at one another, the more their already brittle confidence in this excursion thinning by the second.

“This isn’t gonna work,” Nick mumbled, running a hand down his face.

“It’ll work. They don’t care who crosses in, only who comes out,” Callie reassured, but that made them all pause, and ponder. “How’re we gonna get out?” she mumbled.

The men groaned, turning away.

“Let’s go.” Fero stepped into the room, his bright eyes concealed and platinum curls covered.

They all pooled in the front room, zipping their jackets or adjusting other various items of clothing, glancing nervously out the window.

“You all act like we’re gonna be jumped as soon as we walk out,” Fero teased, and the officers glared at him. “You think they expect you to be in some motel?”

“Fero,” Tikka snapped, glaring heatedly before she moved to the door. Nick and Daryl both flinched when she opened it nonchalantly, but Callie holding her Orc’s hand helped bring his confidence back to a reasonable level as they walked out of the room.

“You two couldn’t look more obvious even if you tried,” Fero said through the corner of his mouth when the men’s head turned and observed on a swivel, even bumping into one another as they made their way to the SUV parked across the lot.

“We’ll be okay,” Nick said lowly to Callie, turning here and there with a hand on her back as she hoisted herself through the middle seats of the SUV.

“You tellin’ me or yourself?” she cracked, trying to lighten his mood, but he only stared at her flatly.

Ward sat in the front beside Fero, smacking the panel beside him. “Let’s bounce.”

Tijuana

“They’re coming out,” Callie declared, groaning when she had to pinch softly across her eyeball to pull the contact out.

“They’re going to recognize you!”

“No they’re not! You said yourself- MTF doesn’t operate in Mexico!” Callie hissed back at Fero, shuddering when the other contact was slipped out.

“That doesn’t mean they’d try to prevent us from getting in!” Fero barked harshly, pulling back on her arm.

Nick broke the contact, growling loudly and chest to chest with the Elf who was baring his teeth also.

“Both of you- enough!” Tikka forced her way between them, a hand on either chest as the men continued to glare hatefully at one another.

“I’m with Cal, she’s our only translator,” Ward stated calmly, stepping to stand beside her while she was letting her hair down around her shoulders.

“These covers might have worked in LA but they’re nothing but suspicious at the border,” Callie explained, pulling on Nick’s arm so he reluctantly stepped beside her. “The less you go in with, the less likely they’ll bother you,”

“That’s a horrible thought process,” Fero rolled his eyes.

“Hey,” Callie hit his chest as she was walking by, and he glowered down at her. “You’re in my territory now, so unless you want border patrol holding you in one of those concentration camps, shut up and listen,”

He watched the pregnant human move by him with determination, rolling his eyes again when Nick smiled smugly as he followed. A few more low profanities passed as he idled behind Tikka, who to Callie’s insistence, had pulled her hood down. Platinum blondes aren’t rare, but as long as she covered her ears, they should be clear to pass.

Nick chuffed when Callie pulled his down also, slipping her hand into his as they approached the long corridor like entryway to the grated, revolving doors.

“There’s no officers around,” Ward said lowly.

“Told you. Easy to get in, tougher to get out. Buenas tardes!” Callie waved cheerily to a personnel just on the other side of the doors they had passed through, but only a curt nod met her wide smile. Ward and Nick nodded, both surprised any of them hadn’t been stopped and questioned. When Fero and Tikka in addition were still following without any trouble, Ward could feel the doubt falling from his shoulders.

“He didn’t even look twice at us,” Nick commented, glancing back.

“I look like a prostitute, that’s why,”

Both men looked at her quizzically.

“It’s legal here. They have red light districts. He looks like a regular customer,” Callie played, elbowing Nick who’s brows flattened in annoyance. He pushed her gently, finding her hand again once she stepped back. “You two okay?” she asked looking back.

“I didn’t anticipate that to go so smoothly,” Tikka admitted, her head still on a swivel.

They gathered back together into a loose group, but for the Elves and Ward, the night life wasn’t something they expected, nor the carefree demeanor of the people still making their way up and down the sidewalks, a few hole-in-the wall bars still booming loudly with music and restless visitors. The traffic was bustling, worse than LA’s boulevards, people honking and navigating the constricted streets.

“It looks like LA,” Ward commented.

“I thought you came here with Sherri?” Nick asked, this being the fifth time he’d accompanied Callie across the border.

“Man that was in my twenties. I know we were in Rosarito but everything else is a blur,” Ward could only faintly recall, but the vivid memory of throwing back far too many shots every hour and gorging on fish tacos every ten steps still made his stomach churn.

A particularly rowdy group passed them, the woman under the arms of borrachos laughing loudly with beaded necklaces and spilling beers in hand. Nick pulled Callie tight to his side, chuffing angrily when they shouted insults at the towering Orc.

“We need a cab,”

“We can’t walk to the house?” Tikka asked, and Callie snorted.

“It’s a 40 minute drive,”

“That wouldn’t be too long walking-” she started, but even Ward glanced at her bleakly alongside Nick, pointing to Callie’s obvious condition. “Nevermind,” she mumbled, looking away.

Callie was left to hail a cab, which turned up results quickly along the busy street, and after a few heated minutes of quick bartering and agreeing to pay the remainder seats so they had no one else to worry about, Callie called them over to pile into the van, thankful to be off the populated streets. They all nodded tersely to the driver who had nothing but smiles to give, speaking to Callie rapidly as she found her seat in the front.

Nick pushed Fero when he sat in the seat behind her, jerking his chin towards Tikka’s direction towards the back, but he didn’t budge until Tikka reached forward and yanked on his jacket, hissing at him lowly in Elvish. At last he crawled to the back seat, huffing as he crossed his arms.

↠

“Pare aqui, por favor.”

Nick jerked awake, scanning their surroundings with hazy vision and momentarily panicking when nothing was recognizable, but Ward’s hand on his shoulder brought him back, as well as glancing behind to find the two Elves leaned against one another, staring lazily out the window.

At some point during that drive that was definitely longer than 40 minutes, he’d dozed off listening to Callie chat indifferently with the driver, recognizing a word here and there and sometimes able to piece sentences together. Nick and Daryl exchanged nods as the van finally came to a halt, stopping along a quiet street filled with dark houses and various other roads leading to other cul de sacs.

“Tip him well,” Callie shot towards Fero before exiting the van, thanking the driver kindly and shaking his hand. Fero slapped a 20 into his hand, ignoring the drivers gracious thanks while following Tikka from the car.

“This isn’t the house,” Nick observed, staring at the two story they’d stopped in front of.

“It’s this way,” she tugged on his hand, the lot following.

“You couldn’t have told him to take us to the house?” Fero asked.

“Route taxis stop on bus stops. They’re cheaper,” Callie yawned, turning the corner to follow the sidewalk.

Tikka glanced over her shoulder nervously, even walking backwards a few steps to take in their full surroundings.

“Thought you said we don’t have to worry about MTF here,” Ward noticed, falling back with her.

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” she said lowly, satisfied with the quiet street before turning forward. Nick peered at her, skepticism written across his features, but she had no more apologies to offer. They were too far from home to deal with that anymore.

It was only a brief walk before Callie followed a pebbled path up to a white house with curved window and archways, a sturdy iron door first meeting them.

“I can never remember which stone it is,” she grunted, leaning down to flip a few large ones.

Nick assisted, turning stones until at last they found the fake one with the key hidden safely inside. Once unlocked, she stepped aside to allow everyone into the inner yard that an overhang surrounded, as well as other doors leading to various other entrances to the home. They looked into the dark windows lining some of the walls, the soft silhouette of furniture and various home items easing their minds as Callie pulled the heavy door shut, locking it dutifully.

Again she pointed them in the direction of another door that Nick had opened after she handed him the key, and slowly they filed in, their eyes adjusting once she flipped on a few lights to reveal the comforting walls around them. Plush furniture and cozy corners, the curtains drawn to keep curious eyes out, and of course, numerous photos covering the walls.

“I don’t think there’s gonna be much food,” Callie noted, waddling towards a chair. “But there’s running water and rooms with beds to sleep in,” she exhaled, sitting stiffly.

“How long are we planning on staying here?” Ward asked, still stood by the door.

No one had an answer to that, but Callie and Nick exchanged nervous glances. The farther they’d made their way into the hills, the more unanswered questions built.

“I think everyone can do with some rest and deal with that in the morning,” Tikka tried encouragingly, but the nods of approval she thought she’d receive were actually just everyone moving their separate ways. Fero was opening an empty fridge before he moved onto sparse cabinets, finding stale crackers and some canned foods.

Daryl followed Callie and Nick down the hall to where she told him to choose from any of the rooms and show him the bathroom, and he departed without another word, but simply a loose nod before closing the door behind himself.

The pair moved into the room they always stayed in on their visits to the family home; a guest room with a mattress barely big enough to fit Nick and bare walls, but a bed was a bed, and there was a spare bathroom attached to it.

Nick went about kicking off the stiff shoes as Callie moved to the bathroom, flipping on the light that always highlighted her tiredest of features in the narrow mirror. She stared back at herself, detailing her tangled hair and slumped shoulders, the bags under her eyes.

She was too tired to even care at attempting to fix her appearance.

Cold water splashed over her face felt refreshing despite the chill that hung in the house, but looking down at her palms soured her expression. Blood was still stained across her fingers, and scrubbing harshly with a washcloth only did so much to pull it from her pores after a few minutes.

With a shaky breath, she held her face, the vivid images of Pucca in Nick’s arms fluttering before her eyes. Though she allowed a few tears to slip down her cheeks, she stifled more prominent cries, wiping her face with her sleeves and splashing more water on her face before returning to the room to find that Nick wasn’t there anymore.

At last she sat down on the bed, the plush mattress kinder on her back, but Leo stirred vibrantly everytime her stomach growled. She glanced out the window, half expecting to see sirens light up the street at any moment, but after a few seconds of staring, she carefully laid backwards, her body jellying atop the blankets. Being as tired as she was, it was easy to remain uncaring of anything around her as long as she could rest, and found herself quickly slipping into a sleepy limbo.

She cracked an eye when the door opened, finding Nick walking in with a few items in his arm before closing the light out again behind him.

“You need to eat something,” he told her, placing some snacks on the bed. Old crackers, older cookies and a water bottle; a feast in their predicament.

“I’m so tired,” she mumbled, rolling on her side to fiddle with the cookies.

“Please?” he asked, sitting beside her. She nodded and held up a palm after he tore the package open, nibbling on the cookie, still on her side.

When Nick tried to eat a cracker, one of his curved tusks clipped off, falling to the floor noisily between his feet. For a moment there was panic, but then he remembered they’d been gone all along, and easily snapped off the other to leave him with the blunt incisors again. He ran his tongue over the smooth tops, kicking away the fake tips with a low chuff.

Callie looked up at him, and could clearly see the disappointment written across his face. He’d already grown used to them, and with that, had come to miss ever having them.

Her hand slid across his thigh, giving a few comforting squeezes.

When he looked down at her, he chuckled; her cheek was stuffed with cookies and her eyes comically sleepy.

No words were passed between them, only a silent comfort in each others presence as they finished their small meal before she crawled farther up the bed to slip under the covers, groaning as the bed cradled her perfectly.

“Where’re you going?” she asked as he moved from the bed.

“I’m gonna go talk to them,”

“Should I be worried?”

He winked at her, flashing a toothy grin before closing the door behind himself softly.

From down the hall he could see Tikka and Fero at the table beside the kitchen, quietly chatting side by side and sharing a water and some of the old crackers, then turning to face Nick when he approached them.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked outright, and the Elves exchanged looks.

“If I can convince Ward to help, then we can stop Makhel,” she elaborated simply, shrinking under Nick’s critical glare.

“That’s it? That’s all you have?” Nick pushed.

“If he won’t agree to learning-”

“You mean if you can’t force him to learn?”

“Shut up,” Fero butted in.

“No. All this running and twisting our arms to get us here and that’s all you have?” Nick barked.

“If he can learn a few spells, he can help me disarm Makhel. He doesn’t have to be the one to deal the final blow but I need him to at least help me so yes, that’s all I have right now. These kinds of duels are unpredictable so planning too far in advance is useless,” she explained, but Nick still wasn’t satisfied as he leaned against the entry to the hallway, pulling his hand down his face.

“How are we even going to get to him if we’re in Mexico now?”

Tikka swallowed. “He’ll find us,”

Nick’s ambers met her lightning blues. “How?”

“He’s tracking us. Eventually he’ll come here but we have to be ready when he does,” she answered.

The Orc stared critically a moment, unmoving. “Have you known that the entire time?”

She nodded weakly.

“Then why couldn’t we have just lead him to MTF?” he said through his clenched jaw, fighting not to swing at either of them.

“They would’ve taken us too,” Fero interjected, but Nick scoffed.

“You really think I give a shit at this point?” Nick asked, pushing off the entryway. “You’re both fucking stupid.”

That was his last remark before turning to walk hotly to his room, only half restrained in his efforts to not slam his door.

Fero looked back to a deflated Tikka, moving to hold her hand, but she withdrew it to hang her head in her palms. The house was quiet again, not even the low chatter of others talking in their rooms or the normal hum of life outside.

“You should’ve told them,”

Tikka shook her head. “We wouldn’t have gotten here if I had,”

He shifted, toying with the water bottle. “They have a right to know,”

“We have some time,”

“How long before you send another signal?” he asked, but she shrugged.

“Maybe tomorrow night? Maybe by then he’ll know a few spells,”

“And if he doesn’t?” Fero pushed, leaning down to catch her gaze. “What if we lead him here and we only have you to fight with?”

“That’s why I said maybe-”

“We can’t go off of ‘maybe’s’, Tikka!” he hissed, glancing down the hall. “If you’re leaving a trail for him to follow than we have to be ready! You can’t be so careless,”

“Like you were when I told you not to take him on alone?” she snapped back, gaze steady as his as they glared at one another. A few stiff seconds of silence passed before he stood to walk outside, leaving her alone at the table to ponder over the gravity of the situation, and the innocent lives she’d involved.

↠

The wound was open again.

Blood trickled down his arm where it dripped off his fingertips, but he seemed completely unfazed by the multiple bites littering his arm and shoulder.

Without a word, she swung the backpack to her front and dug through it for gauze, then carefully lifted his arm to roll the sleeve up. He at last looked to the peppered gashes across his arm as she dabbed the swelling flesh gently, wincing.

“This needs more than superglue,” she commented.

Makhel shrugged. “Stupid dog surprised me,”

“What were you even doing in that house?” she asked, pulling out some coflex tape to hold the layers of gauze in place.

“Tikka had been there. I thought she was hiding with someone. It was only a mixed couples home,” he spat in disgust, halting her hands. Surely he knew the impact his words would have on his halfling lover, but no apologies came forth after he pulled his arm away to roll the sleeve down.

She stood beside him tensely as he continued to look down at the lively border from the side of the highway, calculating how they could slip through without their startling appearance alarming anyone. While she could’ve passed with reasonable ease despite being colored in soft hues of Orkish greens, Makhel was battered and bloody, and hadn’t bothered changing from his torn clothing in a couple days. If anyone created any type of interference, he’d likely whip out the wand, uncaring of any innocent lives around them.

She sighed silently, shifting on her sore feet. They’d been walking for miles at the same rapid pace, but standing still now only made her thighs itch mercilessly.

“Can we take a break?” she asked; she could lay down in the brush and sleep she was so exhausted.

“No. We have to get in now while we can still see the signals,” he snapped, stepping onto the breakaway of the highway.

“What if it’s a trap? Why would she leave a trail like that?” she asked after him, struggling to follow over the terrain. “We should be careful-”

“She poses no threat to us anymore than she did in Brazil. Don’t be so foolish, halfbreun,”

She grabbed his arm so he’d spin, meeting her eyes wide with disbelief. “What did you call me?”

His hairless brows tightened, his mouth doing the same. “Half-breed,”

She let him go, taking a step back. “I have a name,”

“Think with the Orc half of your brain then and I’ll call you by your name,” he said calmly, turning away again to lurk down the highway that was lit sparsely with headlights of passing cars.

Rania watched him, and the urge to run in the opposite direction had never been so strong.

“I’ve had nothing but bad thrown at me for it,” she said shyly, moving her hair behind her narrow, pointed ears.

“Foolish. They are foolish. They don’t see the beauty standing before them,” Makhel devoted softly, continuing to smile when she looked away with flushed cheeks, leaning into his chest. A soft kiss on her head turned her face up so she could catch the next one, his wide, gentle palm cupping her cheek.

“You don’t care that I’m a halfling?” she asked against his lips, her eyes heavy.

“You could be 1% Orc and I would still follow you to the ends of the Earth, Rania. My heart is yours.” He said truthfully, firmly, again kissing her when she clung to his shirt desperately.

Tears stung her eyes, but she still followed from a distance, clinging to the warm memories atop the rooftop of the Shield of Light base where she’d first laid eyes on the meek Orc who won her over so quickly, before hate shaped his fragile heart.

Eventually he turned to look at her, halting until she was by his side before continuing on, but he no longer reached for her hand or offered comforting grins now and again. Only the wand occupied his touch now.

————————————————————————————————

Ward stared critically at the cup held in Fero’s raised hand while he turned the silent want in his own, no longer stinging his grasp or ringing obnoxiously.

“Again,” Tikka said from behind him.

The wand raised. “Tula,” Ward recited, but the expel from the end was meager compared to the powerful boom that she’d summoned in her demonstration. The cup simply fell from his grasp, bouncing across the floor.

Daryl was exasperated when he turned away, the heels of his palms pressed against his forehead.

“That was better,” Nick tried, sitting beside Callie under the window that looked out into the inner yard of the home.

“Oh yeah, we gon’ stop that fucker by gently slapping the wand from his hand,” Ward snapped, and Nick rolled his eyes, almost through with anymore words of encouragement.

“You need to feel it, it comes from down here,” Tikka instructed, squaring her shoulders as she inhaled and patted her chest. “Put your mind and heart into it,”

“Excuse me if my mind is in different places right now,” he mumbled.

“Good, use that,” she told him, stepping aside.

“Use my hatred of this entire shitty situation?” he asked snootily, but she nodded. “Seriously?”

“Emotions play a big part in spell casting. Send those feelings outwards,” Fero commented, picking the cup up. Again, his arm outstretched, his grip meager around the cup.

Nick and Callie both looked back to Daryl as he situated his feet deeper into the grass, staring at the cup. He conjured every negative thought that had crept into his mind since he was forced from his home, every winding stream of insults he’d wanted to fire off since they’d first crossed into Mexico. He let that resentment collect in his chest after a restless night of pushing it down, and for the uncounted time, he raised the wand that small splinters of light was shining through between the wooden grooves.

“Tula!” he shouted.

Fero hissed sharply when a ringing pain shot down his arm, the cup flinging towards Daryl only to fall about halfway to him and bounce a few times.

“That was an angry cast,” Tikka cringed, checking the skin of Fero’s reddened, irritated hand he was shaking frantically.

“You said to use those emotions,” Ward shrugged, silently elated that he, after hours and far too little breaks in between, had finally made progress.

“Maybe you’d have better success thinking of something that made you happy,” she suggested, this time moving to hold the cup herself.

“Not even a pat on the back after all that hard work?” Callie snipped lowly, sending a brazen front to Tikka who’d barely caught her remark, but shrugged it off.

The cup was raised. “Think of something happy,”

Ward’s head lolled as he stared at the yellow cup, his posture relaxing as he dug deep into his thoughts.

They all watched as the seconds dragged on and Daryl remained motionless, seemingly calm.

“Tula,” he called much calmer now, and just as a wide spreading blast of moving energy shoved Tikka back into Fero’s arms, the cup came flying into Daryl’s chest where he fumbled to catch it.

They all exchanged hung jaws and wide eyed faces, matching Daryl’s equally shocked expression as he held up the cup in disbelief.

“That was better,”

They all looked to Tikka as she fixed her clothing, now a sore chest plate riddling her.

“Would it kill you to show some praise?” Callie asked bitterly.

“He has a lot of work to do still,” Tikka defended, and barely caught the cup when it was chucked harshly at her.

“If you’re gon’ be like that, then we can continue this shit after I eat,” Ward decided, also flicking the wand to Fero. He looked down when the wand quieted, swiftly handing it over to Tikka.

Nick watched Ward stomp inside before he stood, offering his hands to help Callie up and leaving Tikka and Fero alienated.

“She’s becoming worse than him,” Callie commented as she closed the door harshly behind herself.

The pair didn’t join them, but instead sat down on the lone bench across the yard, deflated, and exhausted. Like Ward, neither had gotten much sleep despite it being the safest and most peaceful location they’d inhabited for months. They sat shoulder to shoulder, staring off into nothing with blurry eyes and empty stomachs. Both had made the agreement long ago to not even mention how one another must have smelled.

“That only took 7 hours,” Fero grumbled with only a soft ‘hm’ in return. “We should eat too,”

“I’d rather sleep,”

“Thought you already tried that,”

“Maybe if someone hadn’t been huffing and puffing all night I could’ve gotten some,” she battled, her eyes sliding shut.

“You act like you don’t talk in your sleep,” Fero smirked at her, catching her slight smile. “Always asking for me to spoon you,”

“Oh yeah, my big bad Bright chasing away the nightmares,” she teased, earning a gentle elbow in the arm.

“At least I’m useful for something,”

“Among other things.” She cracked. Her head fell to his shoulder, adjusting until she was comfortable and humming gently when he kissed her head, their hands joining between them. Fero grabbed at the opportunity to shut his eyes as she did, and the harmonic tune of birds singing and the normal bustle of the world around them rocking him tenderly with the aid of a soft breeze until they were both asleep.

↠

Nick flipped on the inner yards light, drawing open a curtain enough to check on Fero and Tikka who had somehow managed to stay upright while they slept the last few hours.

“Still out?” Ward asked, the taco held carefully in his hand.

“Mhm,” Nick mumbled, closing the curtain. “I don’t know if I should bother waking them up,”

“Let them sleep. They’d be passing out over their food,” Callie called, and he followed her voice to the kitchen where she’d finished cooking the last of the fajita de carne and had it set in a bowl as she flipped the last tortilla in the skillet, expertly flipping it into the warmer.

Nick helped her carry the bowls and toppings to the table where Ward was already digging into his third taco, his eyes rolling back into his skull for every bite.

“Save some for them,” she mentioned, but Nick scoffed. “They’re our only protection right now,”

“Who says they would if it came down to it?” Daryl asked around a cheekful, already building another taco.

“She kept MTF from getting to us,”

“No, she took us away from MTF. Before she had you, we were on the phone with Kandomere trying to get him to us. He wanted to help,” Nick explained, piling on the extra onions and bell peppers.

“Oh,” she intoned, staring down at her food. “I didn’t know that,”

The men both shrugged, chewing. “This is damn good,” Ward nodded, reaching for the salsa.

“Cheap dinner. You two didn’t run into any trouble at the market?” she asked, finally sinking her teeth into her food, smothered in extra peppers and lime.

“Only until we tried buying the stuff. It’s all in pesos, I didn’t know if we had enough,”

“Told you I should’ve gone,” she sassed.

“It’s a thirty minute walk, you would’ve popped Leo out after all that,” Nick ribbed, and she pushed his shoulder.

“Leo? Y’all havin’ a boy?” Daryl piped, and the couple nodded. “My man!” he exclaimed, pushing harshly against Nick before patting him square on the back. “When did you find out?”

Callie scoffed. “Yesterday,” she said close to her food, glancing at Nick. Her Orc sighed, rubbing her forearm.

Silence settled around them, all staring despondently down at their food that wasn’t as flavorful compared to just moments before.

“Congratulations.” Daryl still offered, glad to see a small smile from them before the meal carried on in more silence.

↠

Callie turned just as she’d pulled the new shirt down her stomach to face Nick as he walked in, closing the door quietly behind himself.

“They’re eating,” he told her, groaning when he sat at the edge of the bed to kick off his shoes.

He hadn’t the night before, and maybe it was the quiet day and trip to the market without conflict that helped calm him, but that evening he pulled his shirt off. Until the night prior, he hadn’t realized how uncomfortable it was sleeping with clothes on whereas him and Callie were usually naked or nearly, but this small absence of a shirt gave him goosebumps after he spun to lay down, curling his arms around her protectively.

“Not too tight,” she grunted, wincing. Nick sat up on an elbow.

“What hurts?” he asked skeptically, but she shook her head. “Calista,”

She exhaled. “It’s just the Braxton Hicks-”

“Are they stronger?”

When she remained silent, his brows lifted. “Are they regular?!”

“NO,” now she was sitting up. “No, I promise, no. But… yeah, they’re stronger and your son loves doing jumping jacks when I lay down,”

“You swear?” he pushed, and she nodded, squeezing his hand that had moved to her stomach.

“I’m fine,” she said closely to his lips, kissing him sweetly. Nick moaned, following her mouth for another. So rapidly, just as his blood had kicked into higher drive, he was drowning in her loving smooches and leaning into her touch when a lithe hand caressed his cheek. If he were home, pushing her back to crawl between her legs would be a normal night, but here? He had to force himself away from her lips, his head hung as he steadied his breathing.

“Still in heat?” she asked, and he nodded. Temptation burned strong enough to caress her mouth a little more, even daring to taste her tongue.

“You gotta stop cuz I’m not going to,” he breathed, chuffing when she kissed down his jaw.

“Even under these circumstances?” she purred, leaning away from his searching lips.

“It’s lethal at this point,” he mumbled, stirring a soft chuckle from her. A painful cramp stifled her smile, and she moved into a more comfortable position, daring to look at Nick’s concerned eyes.

“You should be back in LA,”

“We should be back in LA,” she corrected.

Nick’s eyes bounced around a moment before he shifted to sit stiffly beside her. “Let me call Matuk to come get you,”

“Excuse me?”

“You can stay with him, Fogteeth will keep you safe,”

“No,”

“Callie-”

“No. Don’t you dare,” she ground out, hitting his chest. “I’m safest with you. I couldn’t see anyone or go to any appointments anyways if I was home so what’s the point?”

“You wouldn’t be around all this though. What if all this added stress sends you into early labor?” he pleaded, but she was shaking her head.

“I will do whatever you say and hide wherever you want, but I am not leaving your side,”

Devastation was written across his features, and even when she held his cheeks, his eyes welled. “I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you or Leo,” His voice cracked, making her heart.

“Nothing will,” she rested her forehead against his. “It’s their battle, not ours. Neither of us will let anything happen to Leo,”

“I won’t let anything happen to either of you, I swear my own life on it.” He devoted, wrapping her in a tight embrace when her arms wound around him. He wanted to be her shield from any danger or fear being so far away from home, but as he clung to her, she was doing just that for him. Fear quaked in his heart, plagued his dreaming when he found moments of rest, and she was the only one who vanquished it in precious times like this.

He stared out the window behind her, the curtains drawn enough that the smallest bit of night was leaking in, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that at any moment, their assailant would be peering in, exposing their hide-out.

Nick’s arms tightened around her, waiting, but no golden eyes appeared that night.

————————————————————————————————

the calm before the storm... 🥀

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