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xhanisai · 2 years ago

Text

shikisai

AO3

Pairing - Ladynoir + Adrinette

Prompt - ‘Galaxy’

Summary -

"So how come you've been staring at my hair lately? Did something change about it? Something I've failed to notice?" Her quieter demeanour encouraged the boy to gently tangle his clawed fingers in one of her iconic ponytails, letting the dark tendrils loop around his digits and his emerald greens full of an intensity that made his Lady's heart beat far more beats than was healthy.

"Did you know that under the moonlight, your hair looks almost blue..." His voice trailed into a whisper, his claws gently tickling the skin of her jaw before the hero decided to cradle her face with one of his hands. "...And that strands of it sparkle like the stars...?" He rubbed his thumb against her cheekbone, his faux tail tenderly looping sound her waist as she melted into his touch even further. "I just couldn't stop thinking about how you're like...like a galaxy of the most beautiful stars I've ever seen, Ladybug."

She suddenly lost the ability to breathe, so thoroughly taken aback by her Chaton's heartfelt confession and a beautiful, blush pink started to glow on the apples of her cheeks.

~(x)~ . . . "Is something the matter, mon Chaton?" Ladybug's sudden quip had the feline boy jolt out of his smitten stupor and immediately a blush pink hue settled under the rims of his mask. Thankfully, he was quick to compose himself, swinging his belt tail in a manner that was supposed to be charming and his gaze now resting on the moon that glowed silently above them. "Of course not, ma Belle~ I was simply lost in my thoughts regarding your wonderful, spectacular self!" His words held some truth hence why he was able to play off his split second of embarrassment and vulnerability and the boy assumed that his partner was more than happy to take it all in stride. Unfortunately for him, his Lady was more than observant and also, he was the scrutiny of her peripheral vision of the night. She crossed her arms and took a few steps towards him, a ghost of a smirk playing on her glossy, rosy lips when she spied the bloom of beautiful pink illuminating his sun-kissed skin. He was definitely off his rocker and she couldn't help but indulge in this side of her sweet, loyal Chaton. Indulge herself with the rawer and hidden parts of the boy under the mask. "Oh? Is that so?" She was now almost chest to chest with him, straining her neck upwards just so she could meet the bright green gaze of her unfairly much taller and larger partner. Though, with the comical sight of panic running in those big, emerald eyes, the heroine felt so much bigger. "If I'm so wonderful and spectacular, how come you've only been staring at my hair in particular? Wouldn't you have been staring at my face instead?" The way his pupils constricted to mere slits was her answer and her own sky blues simply glittered with mischief and curiosity. A side to the usually no-nonsense heroine that only her partner had the pleasure to see (as well as often fall victim to much to his dismay and her silly delight). Taking him out of his misery, Ladybug flicked his golden bell and her smile turned warm and soft. And as if she couldn't melt even further, seeing her Chaton relax and wait for the next words patiently could've turned her into goo. He was so adorable. "So how come you've been staring at my hair lately? Did something change about it? Something I've failed to notice?" Her quieter demeanour encouraged the boy to gently tangle his clawed fingers in one of her iconic ponytails, letting the dark tendrils loop around his digits and his emerald greens full of an intensity that made his Lady's heart beat far more beats than was healthy. . "Did you know that under the moonlight, your hair looks almost blue..." His voice trailed into a whisper, his claws gently tickling the skin of her jaw before the hero decided to cradle her face with one of his hands. "...And that strands of it sparkle like the stars...?" He rubbed his thumb against her cheekbone, his faux tail tenderly looping sound her waist as she melted into his touch even further. "I just couldn't stop thinking about how you're like...like a galaxy of the most beautiful stars I've ever seen, Ladybug." She suddenly lost the ability to breathe, so thoroughly taken aback by her Chaton's heartfelt confession and a beautiful, blush pink started to glow on the apples of her cheeks. She glanced at the stray strands of her dark hair in her peripheral vision, awe plastered on her face at the way the midnight locks wonderfully glittered under the moonlight and how the navy hue of the night sky gave her hair a wonderful, cerulean sheen. "O-Oh..." Was all she managed to rasp, one fist against her chest to calm her discombobulated and shrieking heart, her entire being lit in a fire that made her want to soar the skies without the power-up suits. "I...I never...erm..." She was at a loss for words, her tongue limp in her mouth and her chest squeezing to the point where she couldn't take another breath. It was a feeling that always took over when she was in Adrien's presence...and now it was happening around Chat Noir too!? More often than usual, no less!? "Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?" Chat Noir lowered his hand from her hair, much to her dismay and averted those brilliant emerald greens of his. "It's kinda why I didn't want to say anything, My Lady. I know you don't like it when I go over the top or...you know..." The sight of his adorable pout and the need to have some physical contact with him anew sparked Ladybug's mouth back to life and she couldn't help but talk without thinking. "No! You, you didn't. You didn't make me uncomfortable at all, Chat Noir." She placed her hands on his, bringing them to her chest so that he could get a feel of just how fast her heart was beating (to get him to understand the way he affects her too because words were never her strong point). "And, I don't dislike it when you're over the top. Often, your timings are just terrible and you can be a little too persistent," A soft smile was quick to play on her lips at his sheepish expression, the heroine loving the way his faux ears plastered themselves to his blond locks and the sweet tickle of red that bloomed under his mask. She stepped a little closer towards him, the only barrier between their chests being their tightly entwined hands and their height difference more prominent than ever. Ladybug couldn't help but admire her partner even more, loving the way curiosity and adoration danced in his eyes. "Thank you for telling me this. I...I never really cared much about my own hair," She began, thinking back to how as a civilian, during her more insecure moments, she often eyed other girls' hair around her with envy. Be it her best friend's gorgeous, thick, lush hair and the autumn ombre that fired from the roots to the tips or the insufferable Chloé whose hair glowed with a healthy sheen and wore a bright, rich colour that could rival even the most expensive gold out there. "Thanks to you, I'll appreciate it more...so...thank you, Chat Noir," It was her turn to avert her eyes from his surprised face, her complexion very hot and practically matching the same hue of her suit. She could have ended it there and beckoned that they should carry on with patrol. She could have laughed it all off and he would have accepted it without a beat (forever understanding and unfairly kind when it came to her whims). But her heart decided to take over and push her brain aside for once. "You also..." She started quietly, watching him under her dark lashes and catching the way his own throat bobbed nervously. "Your hair...it's like the sun. Especially when you're standing in front of it...it's like a halo of gold...it's very pretty..." Ladybug couldn't take it anymore, overwhelmed with her feelings about everything but especially regarding her Minou. On an ordinary day, he would have been able to catch her before she leapt away but unfortunately, her hushed confession rendered him completely speechless and before either of them knew it, she darted away faster than the speed of sound. . But not before acting on impulse and leaving behind a new warmth against the shocked hero's lips. . Chat Noir lightly pressed his fingers against his lips, unable to comprehend what happened and then his knees gave up and buckled beneath him. "A halo of gold...? Moi...?" ~(x)~ There were no words in the French dictionary that could ever describe just how much Marinette Dupain-Cheng loved Adrien's hair. Especially when the sun would occasionally peak through the dreary windows and highlight his fluffy, thick golden locks as if they were formed of actual precious gems and metals which then would scatter flickers of light around the room. A beautiful diamond. She thanked all the stars in the universe that Madame. Bustier allowed them to do whatever they wanted for the next hour or so since they were actually ahead of schedule in terms of their curriculum and work. Now no one can chastise her for doodling when she should be working! And the cherry on top? Adrien and Alya were distracted by one of Nino's interesting stories to pay attention to her and what she was doing! She used her best pens and pencils, carefully trying to jot down and blend every colour she could see and every shape and expression she could capture. Alas, not even the most skilled and experienced painters out there could ever fully capture the full essence of the boy who never failed to make her fall in love with him every single day- "Is...is that me?" A familiar, awed voice snapped Marinette out of whatever trance she was in, making her literally jump out of her seat and trip over her desk, only to get caught by a pair of very strong (and very nice) arms. "Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you, Marinette!" She was met with worried (familiar?) emeralds peering down at her as the boy held her like a bride and he didn't seem like he was going to let go anytime soon. Adrien continued to watch her with concern, his vibrant eyes scanning her face and body to detect any injuries or discomfort and when he didn't find any, he let out a relieved sigh. "Y-Y-You can put me down now..." Marinette rasped, face redder than her alter ego's suit. She was so much of a mess inside, she was oblivious to the almost sad and reluctant expression her very good friend wore, the boy placing her back down gently but still keeping his hands on her upper arms. It was then that Marinette noted that it was just the two of them in the classroom, the hands on the clock indicating that it was break time (hence why all the students have left) and the golden rays of the sun casting a heavenly glow upon the love of her life in a manner that was so familiar and roused déjà vu. A soft, sweet smile was present on Adrien's lips, the boy unable to help himself and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear tenderly, all whilst intoxicating her with those brilliant emerald eyes illuminated by molten gold. "Again, I'm so sorry for scaring you. The bell rang a couple of minutes ago for break but you were so immersed in your work, you probably didn't realise it. So I stayed behind to keep you company, hahaha..." It was his turn to feel a little embarrassed, scratching the back of his neck out of habit until his eyes landed back on her sketchbook. "I didn't mean to distract you from your drawings...they look absolutely amazing as always and I was wondering if...if you were..." "...Yes. I was drawing you. I hope you don't mind-" She was interrupted by the way his eyes literally lit up and the way he clasped her hands with his excitedly, the girl almost expecting a pair of feline ears to pop up on his hair (a bizarre thought process that keeps popping up more and more often that she'd like). "I don't mind at all! In fact, I'm so honoured that you chose to draw me of all people!" He was all honesty and sincere earnestness, a sweet rosy hue present under his eyes and the proximity between them taking away her ability to breathe. "It makes me really, really happy that you drew me, Marinette. Is it okay if I can have a closer look at the sketchbook? Please?" Oh, how could she ever say no to those pleading, large green eyes? Without a word, the heroine handed him her sketchbook timidly, averting her gaze under her dark fringe and her teeth chewing her bottom lip. She couldn't help the way her heart fluttered from the way he carefully took the book, his hands resting on her own for a few seconds and then finally indulging himself with the sight of her creation. "They were done quickly and with limited resources so they're not polished or perfect or anything." Her heart was beating faster and faster, fingers fiddling with one another as she refused to see his expressions. The last thing she wanted was to see even a flicker of disappointment in his eyes and the urge to flee so that she can scream into her hands was so high. Marinette didn't expect his gentle hand to rest on her chin, a finger tucked under and the pad of his thumb barely grazing her bottom lip. He directed her gaze towards him, making sure that she saw that there was nothing but respect and admiration for her and her work within his eyes. "Anything you create is perfect in my eyes. No matter how long you took to make them or how few the things you used. You've managed to capture me in your own unique vision and...I just can't explain how happy it makes me. You've drawn me in a way that makes me feel so beautiful. Thank you, Marinette." Just before he could say anything else, Adrien noted that there was another drawing on the previous page and he impulsively turned it over despite the designer's quiet squeak. His eyes widened once more with awe. The drawing was of Chat Noir, brilliantly created and composed with a mixture of beautiful watercolours and inks and pens. The hero was smiling tenderly on the paper, the sun shining behind his figure, illuminating the edges of his suit and the ends of his hair and a brilliant red rose in his hands (a scene that only one person out there in the world should be able to envision since she's the one he gave the red rose to). What really stood out to him the most was the crown of light that shone the most above the hero's head. "A halo of gold..." Adrien murmured out loud, not even flinching when Marinette took the book back with a maniacal giggle, hiding the drawing in her chest as she tried to come up with a couple of excuses and reasonings for why she had that kind of drawing in the first place. It fell on deaf ears as all that he could think of was how his many, many months of suspicions and hopes finally, finally came true and that the girl before him was the same one who feathered his lips with her own the night before like a fleeting butterfly. So he acted on impulse and followed his heart. "-I swear it's just a silly drawing! Hahahah! I mean sure I believe Chat Noir is the coolest hero ever and he's my favourite and that he's the kindest and prettiest BUT it doesn't really mean anything- mmMPH!?" And kissed her. . "I know I've already said that your hair is a galaxy of beautiful stars...but your eyes? They're like the universe...my universe, my Lady," . Oh. Oh. 'Eeeeeep!' . . . ~(x)~

#my writing #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ladynoir #adrinette

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innerpalaces · 7 months ago

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The Princess Wei Yang - 148 Part 1

Chapter 148: Princess of Yuexi

It was May and it was already a bit hot in the capital.

In the past two years, there have been numerous pavilions built in the suburbs of the capital.

Many prominent people owned villas in the suburbs so people usually vacation here during the heat waves.

Among them, Princess Yongning's Chang'an Pool was the most eye-catching.

This pool was sited in a twenty-mile radius of land. The scenery was natural and gorgeous with meandering waterscapes, flying pavilions, blooming gardens, sloping bridges and elegant passageways. It was all very dazzling.

Princess Yongning specially invited the Ninth Princess and Li Wei Yang to visit the newly built garden.

The reason why Li Wei Yang was invited was because she was the adopted daughter that the Empress Dowager had just accepted.

She was a very popular figure in the capital right now so even Princess Yongning was very close to her.

To be honest, Li Wei Yang was shocked by the Empress Dowager's decision.

She didn't expect that her words would bring about such a result.

"So, I guess from now on, you're considered my Aunt..." The Ninth Princess had a strange look on his face.

Princess Yongning was a serious person, however she couldn't help laughing. Her slightly skinny face looked rather lively: "Yes, Wei Yang's seniority is far above ours. Now, you are my father's younger sister."

Li Wei Yang still felt a sense of absurdity regarding this situation. However, she understood the reason why the Empress Dowager did this.

Her identity needed to be changed. Even if it was just a difference in seniority, It was necessary to stop Tuoba Yu's actions. No matter how arrogant he was, no matter how much he likes her, he couldn't break through such a hierarchy barrier.

The Empress Dowager had ruthlessly cut off all possibility of this marriage. The Seventh prince, Tuoba Yu was not happy with this development.

"Wei Yang, Seventh brother is very angry. He has refused to enter the palace recently. He even refused to come when the Empress Dowager called him. He has never done something like this before." The Ninth Princess said softly.

Li Wei Yang smiled slightly and said: "His Royal Highness, the Seventh Prince will figure it out soon."

She took a look at the scenery in the garden and nodded.

This garden contained lots of pavilions as well as countless famous flowers and plants. There were golden pines and forest trees from TaiZhou, crabapples and laurels from Zhoushan, magnolia and bayberries from Tangcheng, and even sequoias, rhododendrons, red beans, and cherry blossoms from Jinzhou.

The Ninth Princess touched a crab-apple tree and couldn't help but say in admiration: "I have to say third brother is indeed very capable. He actually made the garden that his father ordered him to build so beautiful. Knowing that the Emperor liked these trees, he traveled thousands of miles in order to find them."

Li Wei Yang smiled and said: "That's true, the third prince has taken a lot of trouble."

Tuoba Zhen was good at pleasing people. If he wanted to, he could pamper someone to high heaven. However, if he was grumpy, he could make someone feel like they were in hell.

He definitely did all in his means to win over Princess Yongning. The Emperor and Empress had always felt guilty about Yongning, hence they wanted to give her all the best. If he did his job well, he would definitely get in her good graces.

Princess Yongning also had a smile on her face: "Indeed third brother did well."

The three of them walked in front, and the maids followed behind them respectfully.

After the bend in the corner, one can find a huge arched bridge that goes over a lake. The rippling sound of the blue water was very soft. It looked even more fascinating in the sun. There was also an artificial island built in the middle of the lake. Coupled with the mountain view, it all made a beautiful scenery.

Suddenly, Li Wei Yang stopped. A short distance away from them walked a group of people. There was a beautiful girl in their midst.

Princess Yongning was furious as she said: "This is a private garden, who are those people?!"

She treated Li Wei Yang well because Wei Yang was good at talking and was astute. Besides the Empress Dowager favored Wei Yang so Princess Yongning had to give her face.

As for other people, she didn't have to be so polite. Princess Yongning pointed over there and ordered: "Kick those people out!"

Li Wei Yang looked at it and felt that something was wrong, but before she could stop it, the Ninth Princess had already rushed over, leading several servant girls.

In the distance, one could see a servant girl saying something to the beautiful girl. Afterward, the beautiful girl ordered someone to throw her in the lake.

The 'plop' made everyone stunned.

The Ninth Princess screamed and fell backward.

"Zhao Yue!" Li Wei Yang shouted and Zhao Yue flew up and caught the Ninth Princess immediately.

Li Wei Yang and Princess Yongning looked at each other and hurried over.

When they reached the bridge, Yongning immediately ordered: "Save the person first!"

A female servant who knew how to swim quickly jumped into the lake and after a while dragged the first servant girl to shore.

"Hahaha! Look at her, how embarrassing!" The strange and beautiful girl giggled and said to the guard standing beside her.

Her voice was rather unique with a lazy bit of charm. The final sound of each word was abrupt but also lingering.

Li Wei Yang frowned. This girl broke into someone else's garden without explaining. And she further dared to throw someone into the lake over a small disagreement! Such arrogance was unheard of.

She looked closely at the girl standing opposite a bit stunned.

She had an oval shaped face and a pair of black midnight eyes that glowed under her two thin eyebrows.

Her nose was straight and her lips were thin and red.

When she smiled, two rows of thin white teeth were revealed.

Her delicate and smooth face seemed aloft. Devoid of the stains of this world. Her dimples were charming even when she was not smiling.

This was a peerless beauty. When she turned up, the bridge, lake, beautiful scenery and everything around her seemed to pale in her step.

Li Wei Yang did not care for her face. Rather what attracted her was her shoes.

The girl was wearing a pair of particularly eye-catching shoes. The upper layer was made with a special kind of soft red leather. The flowers were embroidered with silver and gold threads with a sparkling gem embedded in the middle of each flower.

Dozens of large and small beads traipsed along the upper layer of the shoe. On the high sole were embroidered water waves with a few jumping.

The Ninth Princess's face was red with anger at this moment: "You are so brave! You dare to push my maids into the lake, do you know who I am!"

The beautiful girl clapped the whip in her hand and glanced at Ninth Princess lazily saying: "Who you are is none of my business!"

Her domineering attitude made the Ninth Princess feel choked.

Several guards were in the area. However, they did not go up to help the servant girl who had earlier fallen into the water because it was taboo to recklessly touch a servant girl of the princess.

The Ninth Princess feeling choked up with emotions went to them and drew a sword from their sword belt saying: "How dare you! How dare you speak to this Ninth Princess in such a manner!"

Unexpectedly, the dozen or so tall guards that were guarding the beautiful girl also pulled out their swords unhesitatingly.

Li Wei Yang noticing the expression on Zhao Yue's face couldn't help but whisper to her: "What's wrong?"

Zhao Yue did not reply. Instead, she glanced at a young man on the opponent's team with a horrified gaze.

Li Wei Yang followed her gaze to the man, noticing a scar on the other's cheek that ruined his otherwise handsome face.

While everyone else pulled out their swords, he and three other black guards that were behind him remained motionless, guarding the beautiful girl like four unholy statues.

Upon noticing Li Wei Yang's gaze, the man merely raised his eyelids lazily with no intention of paying any attention to her.

Li Wei Yang couldn't help but raise her eyebrows. The other party didn't seem to take the Ninth Princess seriously at all.

The beautiful girl took two steps forward, unconsciously revealing her knee-high embroidered soft leather shoes.

Li Wei Yang looked at the long tubes of the shoes that were embroidered with a phoenix, spreading its wings and ready to fly.

Surrounding the phoenix, were many small embroidered birds. Each of them was vivid. Altogether, the scenery became a hundred birds before a phoenix. The eyes of each bird was inlaid with gems of different sizes and colors. With each step, the gems glittered like the blinking of bird eyes.

This girl dared to use the pattern of a hundred birds facing the phoenix. And using so many precious gems on a pair of shoes! The identity of this girl was definitely not simple.

In this one moment, while countless thoughts flashed through Li Wei Yang's mind, she calmly grabbed the Ninth Princess's arm.

The Ninth Princess who was charging up to argue "..."

However, this one move of hers caused the beautiful girl to notice her.

"Who are you?" The girl stretched out her slender, white hands. Her fingers were porcelain smooth and delicate like jade. However, this beautiful sight of her fingers was ruined by the riding crop in her hands.

She tilted her head and stared at Wei Yang as though curious.

Li Wei Yang smiled and said: "I am Princess Anping of Dali. I wonder who this lady is and how she could come here."

The beautiful girl raised her chin and sneered: "Princess Anping? Who do you think you are? Are you deserving to know my identity!"

"You!..." The Ninth Princess almost exploded with anger. She had been pampered ever since she was a child. No one had made her suffer in this manner. Today, she was treated so casually by someone she had never met before! This strange girl continued provoking her to fury!

She threw away Li Wei Yang's hand and stepped forward to scold her.

Unexpectedly, before she could speak, she heard a whip crack. Screaming, she covered her face.

Not to mention Princess Yongning, even the female officials around the Ninth Princess were stunned.

The first person to react was Li Wei Yang. She quickly went over and hugged the princess, breathing a sigh of relief.

When the whip came down, the Ninth Princess subconsciously covered her face with her hands. Thus the whip hit her arm, tearing the sleeves of her dress, leaving a red mark on the skin.

Fortunately, it did not hurt her face.

The Ninth Princess was dumbfounded.

Wei Yang however quickly ordered a palace maid nearby: "What are you standing around for? Quickly fetch the doctor!!"

The palace maid went off in a hurry.

It was at this point that Princess Yongning reacted. She didn't bother to check the injuries on the Ninth Princess. She angrily ordered: "Someone! Come, lock them up for me!"

The beauty was not fazed. "Hui Nu!" she called out.

One of the four black-clothed guards who had not moved came out in response.

He was tall and strong, and his facial features were nondescript. People would not remember this face after seeing it once. It was a rather ordinary face with no special features.

The guards on Princess Yongning's side did not expect only one person to come out to fight with them. They felt humiliated and decided to charge as a group. There were twelve of them.

Hui Nu immediately unsheathed his sword and launched a fierce attack. without any panic. His swordsmanship was rather astonishing. His sword moves were swift. Defeating the enemy with ease. He could attack 12 swords with one stroke.

This fast and agile swordsmanship was unique. Swift as the wind and fierce as thunder.

With this momentum, the twelve guards were defeated and thrown aside in the blink of an eye.

The Leader of the guards at Princess Yongning's mansion had practiced martial arts since he was a little boy, but he had never before met such a master.

In order not to lose face, he decided to fight to the death to capture this person.

But suddenly, Hui Nu's sword stabbed out with a terrifying gust. The sharp sword edge pierced through layers of wind, heading straight for the opponent's wrist. With a flash and a clang, the leader of the guards staggered back a few steps.

The long sword had fallen to the ground and with it a severed hand. Everyone was stunned.

The beautiful girl smiled and said: "Are we still competing?" Her mannerisms showed that she had considered this matter as a mere game and did not take human life seriously.

Princess Yongning felt rather embarrassed. All twelve of of her guards had been knocked down. Not only that, the commander of the guards had his right hand cut off.

Li Wei Yang glanced at Zhao Yue. From the start, Zhao Yue's attention had been on the young man with scars on his face. Countless emotions flashed on her face until it finally settled on fear. She lowered her head as if she was afraid of being recognized.

Li Wei Yang thought for a moment and then concealed Zhao Yue with her body and whispered to her: "You, leave first."

Zhao Yue was stunned. She never expected Wei Yang to give this order at such a time.

Subconsciously, she took two steps back. Her legs were shaking with overwhelming fear.

Noticing Zhao Yue's movements, the man with the scarred face smiled mysteriously.

"Miss, this is Princess Yongning's private garden. It's already wrong for you to trespass, why do you dare to hurt others?" Li Wei Yang lifted her cold face and looked at the beautiful girl.

The beauty clicked her tongue twice and looked at Li Wei Yang disinterestedly. Calling with a loud voice, she said: "I have long heard that in Dali there is a stunning beauty named Li Chang Le. Call her out!"

This was the first time in a long while that someone mentioned Li Chang Le. Li Wei Yang smiled and said: "I wonder what business this young miss has with my sister?"

"Li Chang Le is your sister?" The beautiful girl's expression showed disbelief. "Since you're this ugly, Li Chang Le must not be very beautiful!" As she spoke, her clothes swayed in the spring breeze, making her appear graceful and delicate.

This beauty is not only domineering and arrogant, but also rather temperamental.

Li Wei Yang sighed in her heart and said: "The Young Miss is right, my sister was indeed the most beautiful woman at the time. My appearance is incomparable to hers. Its just a pity, if you wanted to see her, you're one step too late."

The beautiful girl frowned and asked: "What do you mean?"

Li Wei Yang said slowly: "She was extremely beautiful but she died so suddenly. Unfortunately, the young miss would not be able to see her again."

The beautiful girl clapped her hands merrily and said: "That's good! If she weren't dead, I would have had to kill her myself!"

The Ninth Princess covered the wound on her arm and looked at her in disbelief. Saying subconsciously: "What are you saying!"

The beauty raised a brow and said naturally: "I am the most beautiful woman in the world. Anyone who dares to be more beautiful should die!"

Li Wei Yang suddenly laughed.

The Beauty was not amused by this: "Why are you laughing?" She said angrily.

Li Wei Yang's face shone with a half smiling expression: "Young Miss, I'm not laughing with joy, I just feel it is a pity. I wonder, if my sister was still alive and she heard this, what would her reaction be? I would have liked her to hear your words. It turned out that beauty has its own persecutions!"

The beautiful girl sneered, staring at Li Wei Yang's pair of eyes that were as quiet as ancient wells, she suddenly felt unhappy in her heart: "I don't like your eyes. Hui Nu, dig out her eyes for me!"

Hui Nu replied in the affirmative and quickly stepped forward to carry out the task. Zhao Yue who had been silently watching from behind Wei Yang pulled out the soft sword from her waist and rushed forward without hesitation.

She parried against Hui Nu's sword immediately and the two of them began to fight.

Li Wei Yang watching the battle sensed that Zhao Yue had met a difficult opponent this time. Usually, with a few strokes, she would vanquish the opponent.

'Who is this girl' Wei Yang thought to herself. A guard around her had such a high level of martial arts.

Thinking back to the horrified expression on Zhao Yue's face when she saw the scarred man, Wei Yang instantly had a horrible premonition.

Suddenly, someone in the distance shouted loudly: "Stop!"

Everyone turned to see a noble man in splendid attire and a jade belt on his waist. He was with several guards.

Zhao Yue and the Hui Nu separated at the same time upon seeing him.

Hui Nu stood firm while Zhao Yue took a three steps back before finding firm footing.

Li Wei Yang, although looking calm and composed could barely believe her eyes. She watched with horror as two diagonal white marks appeared out of thin air on Zhao Yue's cheeks. It took another moment before the red color appeared.

Zhao Yue hesitantly raised her hand to touch the scar. Her fingertips were stained with blood.

Although Zhao Yue had lost, the beautiful girl did not view it lightly. She looked at Li Wei Yang coldly and asked: "Who the hell are you?"

This question was extremely strange, and the people around did not pay special attention to it. However, Li Wei Yang knew what she meant. Zhao Yue's martial arts skills were of the same type as that of Hui Nu. Most of the women present were dependents, with no real power of their own. How could Wei Yang find such a powerful guard!

Li Wei Yang understood that this girl was from Yuexi! And further, that she had a very high status.

Upon this realization, Wei Yang glanced at Zhao Yue subconsciously.

Around this time, Tuoba Zhen rushed over. Seeing the altercation, he laughed: "I was just a little bit late, why are we suddenly fighting?"

The beautiful girl raised her eyebrows and said, "You really know how to choose your timing. Why did you have to arrive at this time. I was just about to deal with someone." There was a hint of intimacy in her words.

Tuoba Zhen replied to her without looking in Li Wei Yang's direction at all: "I'm late because I had to deal with something. What is going on? Why is everyone looking so angry?"

The Ninth princess reached out to her brother and said: "Third brother, she rushed into the garden with a group of people, and even whipped me!"

Tuoba Zhen frowned. Glancing at the wound on the Ninth Princess, he relaxed his brow and said: "Fortunately, it's not serious."

The Ninth Princess was dumbfounded. She looked at Tuoba Zhen in shock!

However, Li Wei Yang guessed the identity of the mysterious beauty based on Tuoba Zhen's attitude.

"Xiao Jiu, you have always been arrogant and willful, and now you've caused trouble with our distinguished guests from the west. How about you apologize to Princess Anguo immediately!" Tuoba Zhen scolded her in a low voice and a serious face.

Everyone was stunned, Li Wei Yang's eyes narrowed slightly.

It turned out to be her. Princess Anguo. Aged sixteen and the most beloved daughter of Empress Pei of Yuexi.

The Empress pampered her in the palm of her eyes and held her as extremely precious and delicate.

However, this Princess Anguo was rather famous for her unscrupulous conduct and misbehavior as well as her recklessness.

Yuexi was separated from Dali by a southern border, so they did not have much communication. However, this did not prevent the numerous fascinating stories about this princess from spreading into Dali.

It was said that the eldest princess of Yuexi built a beautiful and luxurious garden.

Princess Anguo was not willing to be outdone by her own sister, so she seized the common people's land without permission, dug up a large pool and named it Kunlun pool.

The banks of this pool was inlaid with jade. Both sides of the river was covered with exotic flowers and plants that wee fragrant no matter the season.

The bottom of the pool stream was built with corals and gems which glowed in the moonlight. It was said that she had also built many pavilions and halls along the pond and recruited many fishermen and hunters to live there. Somedays, she dressed up as a fisher man or a hunter and fished in the pond or hunted in the mountains.

In order to build this pond, it was unknown how much money was spent and how much fertile land was seized from the common people!

Princess Yongning's garden was completely inadequate compared to hers.

#the princess wei yang

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lathalea · 3 years ago

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For the imagine ask game…

My character of choice is Thorin. 👀 My apple pies are the best 🥧 and I love to listen to heavy metal.

🍒 (Cabin in the woods! Thorin lost his way and we have to stay the night 🤣) and a everybody lives AU.

Thank you so much 🥺☺️❤️. This made my day!

Hi @xxbyimm! Remember your ask? I’m back with your imagine! Sorry it took me a while... but now you’re getting not only an Everybody Lives AU, but also a Modern AU. Enjoy!

🍒 - Stuck Together with Thorin, Everybody Lives AU

You went for a weekend hike into the mountains. Just the nature, blue sky and the trail ahead. At first everything was perfect.

But then it turned out that the trail was really badly marked and for some reason your phone’s battery died so you couldn’t even check where you should be going. You stood at a fork in the forest path, wondering whether you should turn right or left.

Then another hiker came. He was handsome, with a mane of dark hair and a short beard. And those blue eyes…! He stopped there as well, so you asked him for help. At first, there was a frown on his face, but then he said he knew the way and, reluctantly, he agreed to lead the way to the mountaintop since he was going there too. Oh, and he told you that his name was Thorin, muttering something about his family’s Viking ancestors.

You thanked him for his offer and soon you continued on the trail together. Thorin wasn’t much of a talker, he mostly communicated with grunts or two-syllable words at best and it was clear he didn’t hold people like you, “a city girl” in high regard. What a grump! But you tried to ignore it and hoped you’d soon get to that mountaintop and each of you would go your separate ways. There was one good thing about this - walking behind him made you admire his, well, very nicely tailored hiking trousers. For aesthetic purposes only, of course.

Anyway, you both walked, walked, and walked and… there was no mountaintop in sight. It was getting dark when it became clear that you weren’t anywhere near your destination. You confronted Thorin about this and he finally admitted that he may have lost his way. Twice. He took two wrong turns on the way and now you were stuck somewhere in the forest away from civilization. And he had the audacity to say it was all your fault, your constant blabbering about pretty flowers, trees, and cute animals made him distracted, apparently. Needless to say, you were furious and weren’t shy about telling him what you thought. Loudly.

You were both standing there, shouting at each other, when suddenly rain started pouring down from the sky. First you hid under a tree, but it didn’t help much. You had to find a better shelter before you drowned in that deluge… or got eaten by wild animals. You could have sworn that you heard something that sounded like a bear’s roar somewhere nearby. You started walking faster.

It was almost completely dark when Thorin pointed ahead. A small, wooden cabin stood there. Just what you needed! You both quickly got inside to escape the rain, your clothes soaking wet.

It turned out that the cabin was empty, but you found a message from the owner inviting you to use it in need. Yes, you were definitely in need, you had to sleep somewhere, your clothes needed drying and this place had a nice fireplace, so why not?

As Thorin started working on starting the fire, you changed into dry clothes you had in your backpack and realized two things. One: you were really hungry and there wasn’t much food left in your backpack. Two: this place had only one bed.

You and Thorin were borderline ignoring each other, your anger still fresh, but you appreciated the warmth and coziness created by the fire. After rummaging through the pantry, you found – among other things – some flour, sugar, and quite a few apples. It’s been a while since you’ve made one of your legendary apple pies. You decided to bake it, but only because you felt like this and totally not because you were trying to show Thorin that a city girl like you could cook and survive in the wilderness without any problems even with a grump like him.

When the apple pie was ready, you put it on the table and heard how Thorin’s belly rumbled. No wonder, the cake smelled wonderful. Stifling a smile, you offered him a generous portion as an olive branch. Perhaps he was a grump, but he managed to chop some wood in the meantime so you wouldn’t freeze in the night. He deserved some food, too.

Thorin muttered a “thanks” and you started eating. At one point, his eyes fell on your t-shirt (the dry one) and he asked you whether that Amon Amarth logo was just a fashion statement. You rolled your eyes and explained that no, you got this t-shirt at a concert because you happen to love the band, and that actually the “Jomsviking” album is not as bad as they say!

Then Thorin asked you what you thought of “Twilight of the Thunder God”, their other album, and before you knew it, you were throwing song titles and band names at each other. Who would have thought that a grumpy hiker like him would know so much about heavy metal? And not only that! He also knew all about Amon Amarth’s inspirations from the Lord of the Rings that happened to be one of your – and Thorin’s – favorite books! You both agreed that it was a shame that Tolkien hadn’t written any more books of Middle Earth.

Since Thorin seemed to have a decent taste, you decided to forgive him his earlier grumpiness, at least a bit. You actually spent a really nice evening with him, talking about everything and nothing, while rain kept falling outside. He told you about his family – his sister and two teenage nephews, and you told him a bit about yourself.

When it was time to go to sleep, he said you’d take the bed while he’d sleep on the floor. You refused – the bed wasn’t that narrow, there was only one blanket, and the floor was hard and dirty. Besides, you both were adults, what could go wrong?

Thorin and you managed to somehow fit in the bed, even though he took much more space – he probably got all those muscles from hiking. But it was sort of pleasant to fall asleep next to him, sharing body warmth and listening to the falling rain.

In the night, you had the weirdest of dreams. You dreamed of Thorin, but in your dream, he had a golden and black crown on his head, he wore opulent robes and sat on a green marble throne. As you approached him, he stood up, walked towards you, took you into his arms and murmured: “I have been waiting for you, my queen.” And then he kissed you tenderly.

You woke up suddenly only to see that Thorin’s eyes were already open. You could still feel the taste of his lips. In a low voice, he said: “I just had a feeling as if I knew you from somewhere.”

“That’s funny,” you replied, moving closer to him, “because I have exactly the same feeling.”

Your fingers intertwined with his and this time you were the one who kissed him. Your kiss was both tender and unhurried, but that was precisely what you needed. A handsome man who perhaps was a grump, but turned out to be a good kisser. Besides, you weren’t in a hurry. The mountaintop could wait.

💨💨 Imagine Ask Game rules (asks closed) 💨💨

#imagine ask game #thorin imagine #thorin x reader #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #stuck together #thorin fic #tarot #thorin #the hobbit imagine #modern au

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ohtobealady · 2 years ago

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more disassociation thoughts:

Cora and Robert’s little simpering exchange in S2 after Cora’s ✨convinced✨ Robert to ask Doctor Clarkson for “a favor”

After he’s told her he’s talked to Clarkson, Cora’s “Quite right. Thank you, darling,” and Robert’s little *heart eyes* at her and then quick little sobering glance to O’Brien before he leaves is great.

Followed by O’Brien’s impressed, “Well done, m’lady!” because she darn well knows how that must’ve gone down.

Oh lol. Cora’s proud look that is very “Why, thank you. Indeed. I understood the assignment” back at her, an underrated moment for sure.

LOL what on earth took place for him to be so glowing and giddy? *giggle*

Honestly, S2 Cora … she didn’t really neglect Robert in the way she says she has when she apologizes in E8 (?). She was busier, obviously, but in nearly every episode of the season, she is either boosting his self-esteem (“I don’t think you’re a fool!”), or kissing his cheek with a quick explanation for her busyness, or getting noticeably *fans self* hot and bothered by his authoritative rage over Isobel’s demands — another underrated scene. Cora, you are SO gently chaotic lol.

Anyway, I feel this definitely supports the idea that she totally knew about Jane to some degree and in some way. Women really do always know.

(There’s that Violet line in S4 regarding Tony Gillingham, that if they know Tony isn’t acting committed, then they can be sure Mabel knows.)

More Jane thoughts: Obviously Robert was depressed, and I think it was very much a casting decision to have Jane’s character be similar in appearance to Cora (as far as fair complexion, bright blue eyes, dark hair). In Jane, Robert is attracted to the vulnerable, sweet wife that prewar Cora had been to him — the whole “Angel of the home” stereotype. Jane needed help when she dropped those apples. She needed help to provide for her little son. She was sweet mannered and obviously attracted to him, too. I won’t go too much into how I still hate how the end of that storyline went; however, I do think Robert’s character allows for him to have a wandering eye sort of incited by depression — especially considering his station and the reality of that time period.

Doesn’t change the fact, though, that I still feel like he wouldn’t have had that bizarre exchange with Jane after Cora nearly freaking died and he was in that chair in her room with his head hanging in his hands, Clarkson explaining to him that they’ve done everything they can, saying things like “my whole world gone over a cliff in the course of a single day” or watching Matthew lose Lavinia. I never really could understand that part (when he kisses her goodbye), except that maybe his kindness extends that far and his realization that Jane really was in an “impossible situation,” not in the least because he would never love her, his heart really did belong to his wife. Even if he was too depressed to feel anything but numbness.

Ooo, sorry. Tangent.

Anyway. Just thought I’d air out my fun little thoughts I had while mopping my kitchen. Ciao.

#cobert #downton abbey #that maid trigger lol #anyway #character analysis

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howl-core · 3 years ago

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I love your account so much! Quick question (that could definitely have a long answer): which era of fashion do you see HMC inhabiting? There are certain context clues, like velvet and petticoats, but it seems DWJ kept it intentionally vague. She mentions the world being a fairy tale brought to life, but what kind of storybook, is my question.

Hi!! Oh my god I’m so sorry it took me this long to answer this😭….. but still! Thank you:D I LOVE this question, especially because we don’t really have a definitive ‘canon’ answer. I’m so curious what Diana herself would say... but even though we sadly can no longer ask her, I think in some ways not knowing can be even better, because it gives us so much freedom! Since you seem amenable to it, I would love to indulge in a long, needlessly thorough answer, to make up for how long it took me to reply:

I think there are two factors to consider. Number one is, “If Ingary is set in an era based on one from our world, what are the clues in the text we can use to help narrow down which era(s) it could be?”

The second factor is, “Ingary is a fantasy land, so does it mirror an era from our world at all? And in what part of our world?”

However, regardless of which “factor” you ascribe to regarding Ingary, it’s helpful to have as much textual evidence on hand about clothing in Ingary as possible when forming an idea of it overall. I skimmed through my copy of HMC and tried to find as many notable descriptions of clothes as possible (which was not as labor-intensive as it sounds, I promise!! By now I know the story very well so I already knew roughly where to find everything.) Here is what I found:

- The hat shop!! Right off the bat, we learn that there are hats made of straw, felt, velvet, and silk; they can be decorated with veiling and ‘hidden twinkles’, feathers, flowers and fruit made from wax and silk, and that they can be wide-brimmed, or bonnets, or ‘smart’.

- Clothing items mentioned in the Mayday scene: “Trailing silk sleeves”, “trailing cloaks and long sleeves and stamping buckled boots they would never have dreamed of wearing on a working day”

- The iconic blue-and-silver suit, of course, is on separate occasions described as “fantastical” and “flamboyant”; on Mayday Sophie observes that “His [Howl’s] sleeves trailed longer than any in the Square, all scalloped edges and silver insets.” When Sophie is mending it after the Green Slime Incident, she cuts it into triangles. It is unclear to me whether the suit actually consists of triangles of fabric, or if Sophie is just cutting triangles out of it: “She hobbled up and fetched the blue-and-silver suit, which she spent the rest of the day cutting little blue triangles out of in order to make a patchwork sort of skirt.” (p. 107) “Poor Lettie! Sophie thought, putting brisk, tiny stitches round her fifty-seventh blue triangle. Only another forty or so to go.” (p. 168) When Sophie and Michael accidentally gigantify it, we learn that it has “a frill of collar” as well as silver buttons. (p. 183-184)

- The grey-and-scarlet suit — Presumably similar in style to the blue-and-silver one?

- The Witch of the Waste is described as wearing: “A sable wrap drooping from her elbows and diamonds winking all over her dense black dress... the lady’s wide hat [had] real ostrich plume dyed to reflect the pinks and greens and blues winking in the diamonds and yet still look black.” Interestingly, while I guess I could picture this ensemble in a 19th or 18th-century style, the first thing this description made me think of was actually more like a 1940’s prima donna/movie star look lol. (perhaps even a bit like Lady Dimitrescu😳)

- p.101 “[Lettie] was wearing a dress of the same kind of pinks and white as the crowded apple blossom overhead. Her dark hair trailed in glossy curls over one shoulder,”

- p.6 “There was one deep rose outfit [Sophie] made for Lettie… which Fanny said looked as if it had come from the most expensive shop in Kingsbury.”

- In another appearance (p.157) she is described thus: “Her hair, instead of being orderly chestnut curls, was a rippling mass of red, hanging almost to her waist, and she was dressed in floating flutters of auburn and pale yellow.”

- p. 151: The soldiers at the palace are “splendidly dressed” in red and wear white gloves (the ones upstairs wear blue instead of red)

- p.51: “Outside stood a personage wearing a stiff white wig and a wide hat on top of that. He was clothed in scarlet and purple and gold, and he held up a little staff decorated with ribbons like an infant maypole... Scents of clove and orange blossom blew into the room.” (Michael also mentions that he thinks this person is the Chancellor’s clerk)

- Michael wears “his best plum velvet suit” to see the king (p. 68)

- The clothes Howl buys Sophie and Michael: “Several pairs of silk stockings; two parcels of the finest cambric petticoats, with flounces, lace, and satin insets; a pair of elastic-sided boots in dove-grey suede; a lace shawl; and a dress of grey watered silk trimmed with lace that matched the shawl... the lace alone was worth a fortune.” “Michael unwrapped a handsome new velvet suit.” (p. 122)

- Mrs. Pentstemmon’s estate: The trio are greeted by “an elderly footman in black velvet”; Mrs. P herself wears “a gold-mesh mitten, on a gold-topped cane. She wore old-gold silk, in a very stiff and old-fashioned style, finished off with an old-gold headdress not unlike a crown, which tied in a large old-gold bow beneath her gaunt eagle face.” (p. 143)

- Howl’s black ensemble includes “a long jet pendant” as his earring (his single earring?? king) on p.184

…Ah fuck I bet there’s more but that’s enough for now. I think I would want to make a separate post talking about the hints we get about the world *itself*… But one that pops out to me is actually that Howl having an indoor toilet is described as a kingly luxury, lol. That definitely helps us narrow down the time frame. We know that indoor toilets of some kind do exist, but having one is very rare. (I kind of don’t like to treat this as canon lmao… somehow I can’t picture the streets of Market Chipping flooded with chamber pot contents, as realistic as it may be) That puts it probably a little before the 1700’s or earlier, if we are comparing it to our world’s timeline. Interestingly:

“In the 18th century, the first public water supply networks (examples of old water supply piping pictured above) were installed in London by private companies. They served limited areas of the city, allowing the wealthy to access fresh water on tap.” According to the same article, “The S-bend was introduced to the design of flush toilets by Scottish inventor Alexander Cumming in 1775. This modification allows for fresh water to sit in the toilet bowl, at the same time as preventing sewage water and fumes from rising into it, generally improving hygiene. The basic technology has been in use ever since.” (Wild I never knew this lol… trivia night here I come!!)

…So that seems to put us roughly around the 1700s?

That mostly checks out with the descriptions of the clothes, I think! Both of these slides seem to at least somewhat match the descriptions of big/trailing sleeves, boots, the “suits”, and general elaborateness:

And these fantastic timelines are certainly compatible with the descriptions of dresses and hats that we get!

Additionally, although the heyday of European fairytales was a bit earlier (1500’s-late 1600’s), lot of fairytales were still written roughly around this time — Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve published the first official version of La Belle et la Bête (Beauty & the Beast) as we know it today in 1740, Johann Karl August Musäus published the Volksmärchen der Deutschen between 1782 and 1787; and Grimm’s Fairy Tales, or Kinder- und Hausmärchen, was first published in 1813. So this would absolutely work as a time period around which to base a fractured fairytale such as HMC, although the 1500’s and 1600’s would also work… If I weren’t deciding to base this entire argument around ONE mention of a toilet………. but anyways. That’s Option One. (Cannot believe I’m basing all this off a toilet…)

But anyway. Option Two — ignoring *our* world’s timeline entirely— is… me doing whatever the hell I want. And that is, essentially, one big historical mishmash! CHAOS!! A Frankenstein-ed together Victorian, Georgian, Elizabethan, and Edwardian tilt-a-whirl of frocks and finery, along with a dash of style that has no equivalent in our world at all!

I must admit, the Ghibli movie has a bit of influence over my idea of Ingary — I absolutely love the post-Industrial Revolution, quasi-steampunk aesthetics of Ghibli’s Market Chipping, and the mid/late 1800’s fashions that the characters wear! I could easily see the Hatter sisters wearing those lovely side-buttoning Victorian boots, and my god, that film did hats SO much justice. I also adore Markl’s little waistcoat+bow tie+trousers combo in the movie and usually mentally give Michael something similar to that, just in different colors. But overall, I don’t see Book!Ingary being steampunk or post-Industrial, as much as I love it in the film. Perhaps little elements of that here and there, but again, I see it as a big mishmash of multiple eras. I love picturing the King’s guards with frilly Elizabethan collars, pageboy/squire haircuts (even though the King’s chancellor has a white wig, suggesting a more Georgian aesthetic) and puffy little breeches. Lol. I think of Lettie’s pink dress in the orchard as very mid-late 1700’s, perhaps similar in design to the 1763, 1785 or 1790 dresses in the dress timelines above. Mrs. Pentstemmon I imagine in full, damely Victorian splendor. Somehow, as I mentioned before, the Witch of the Waste seems almost outside of this timeline entirely, like a grand 1930’s movie star.

And as for for Howl and Sophie… Well, I actually have a project pending this May Day for my official headcanon of Howl’s blue/silver suit and Sophie’s gray dress;) So perhaps you will see that then! But for now, I will say that Sophie’s grey dress has a fairly consistent design in my mind, but Howl’s suit changes a LOT. Sometimes I imagine him in these very crisp 1700’s clothes, almost like Lestat, but sometimes it’s more of a costumey, wizardly, elegant-but-slapdash getup. Like, the blue and silver patches on his suit are all made from different fabrics, almost like a quilt. And rather than the prim silver-buckle shoes of the Lestatcore version, he wears taller, pirate-y boots — elegant and very well-made, of course, very debonair, but much better for dirty work and running around. That’s how I imagine it anyway.

…Oh god, this got SO long lmao. But I hope I was able to give you the kind of answer you were looking for! I LOVE hearing and seeing other people’s versions of Ingary and its chaotic cast of characters. Do feel free to tell me yours, I’d love to hear them! Sorry again that this was so late, thank you for asking<3

#jesus christ this got away from me lol #but i LOVE this kind of thing #thank you:)#hmc #hmc book #ask #reply #headcanons #ingary

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bigasswritingmagnet · 3 years ago

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Seek a Little Strange and Unusual

Fandom: Psychonauts Pairing: None Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Chloe Barge Summary: One day at the grocery store, Loboto overhears two parents discussing their...problem child. It's a very familiar sounding conversation. He may not understand why, but he won't let history repeat itself. Chloe isn't particularly fond of her human caretakers. The dentist who smuggled her out of the store is strange...but so is she. And he, at least, understands the importance of space helmets on alien planets.

[don’t make tumblr funnyposts about headcanons guys because you WILL become attached to them]

Cucumbers, lighter fluid, toothpaste, apple sauce, quick rise yeast, mineral oil...

Almost everything! All that was left was condiments. Except...had he written ketchup, or catsup? Did it matter? Of course it mattered, they were totally different things! Weren't they? Well, they had different names.

Lobot stared between the bottle of catsup and the scribbled list, trying to read his own handwriting.

"No, no! Put it down--Chloe put that down right now."

Ooooh, drama! He loved drama. Loboto poked his head around the corner of the aisle in time to see a small child standing on their tiptoes, arms outstretched to the cereal boxes on the upper shelf. A brightly colored box of sugar pretending to be a nutritious breakfast was wrapped in a purple glow and descending, slowly.

A woman materialized next to the girl. Her face was tight with anger and she snatched the box out of the air. Shoving it back on the shelf she hissed "What did I tell you? How many times do I have to say it, Chloe! Don't do that! Especially not in public! And I told you take that stupid helmet off when we're in the store!"

The child's response was unintelligible, muffled by the space helmet they were indeed wearing. He wondered what the big deal was. It wasn't the 1940's; nobody cared if you wore a hat in public anymore. Just look at him! He was wearing his showercap and no one had said a word! They just left the aisle as soon as they saw him.

“Take it off, now!”

A man appeared and grabbed the woman's arm.

"Keep your voice down, people are going to come see what the fuss is."

The woman rounded on him, her expression one of frantic desperation.

"I can't do this anymore."

I just don’t care anymore.

"I can't deal with this, the helmet and the moving things around--!"

He’s a monster!

"I know, I know--"

Soon we’ll be free of this devil child.

"I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this! If I have to deal with one more dismantled radio, one more time trying to get her to take it off for company, one more bent spoon--"

Every! Spoon! Bent!

"I've been asking around, and Johnson knows someone who can do a procedure that’ll fix her--"

They all agree on the diagnosis and what must be done.

He felt strange. Cold and hot and angry and...sad. The child didn't seem to notice the conversation. She was trying to float the cereal box back down again. She probably didn't understand what it all meant. She was young. Very young.

Younger than he had been.

He hadn't understood either, until it was too late.

The humans were arguing again. They were always arguing these days. Arguing about such petty problems, when they could be focusing on the whole galaxy around them. She ignored them. It wasn't like they listened to her anyway. How many times had she explained to the woman why she needed to wear the helmet whenever she left the hermetic seal of her room? It never mattered.

The box of Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs landed gently in her hands. Excellent. She would slide it into the cart under the frozen peas. By the time they got to the cash register, the woman would be bound by social convention to make the purchase, or risk making a scene in front of the cashier.

Chloe still hadn't figured out what making a scene meant. The term was definitely in regards to public behavior, but was applied to anything from yelling in public to silent refusal to remove her helmet. Human rules were so strange and arbitrary.

The boxes in front of her rustled. Chloe tilted her head to one side. Odd. Sometimes things around her moved on their own, but usually she got that strange tingle in the back of her head when they did. She wasn't feeling it now.

The boxes of cereal parted, excess tumbling off the ends of the shelves. Two small lights gleamed in the newly made gap. One red, one green.

A metal claw shot out, grabbed Chloe by the shirt, and hauled her through.

She had half been expecting to be pulled into another dimension, but instead she was just in the next aisle. There was no time to feel disappointed before she was dumped unceremoniously in a grocery cart. Someone loomed over her, but Chloe only got the impression of blue skin and flowers before the stranger scooped up half a shelf's worth of bags of macaroni and dumped them on top of her.

It didn't hurt. She could breathe fine with her helmet protecting her face--see, she wanted to say, I told you I needed it--but she couldn't move very much. The cart rattled and bumped, one wheel squeaking obnoxiously. They paused briefly, and Chloe considered shouting for help, but didn't. She wanted to see where this was going.

So she stayed quiet and still, holding the box of cereal to her chest as a cheerful voice cried "No need to do your beeping scans! I know what I bought! Keep the change!"

Then they were off again. The sounds around her changed as they left the store and rattle bumped their way through the parking lot. She heard a trunk open up, and decided now was a good time to figure out what was going on. She had no interest in riding with the groceries.

Chloe made the purple glow around her hands and pushed until the groceries around her lifted enough for her to move. She popped out from beneath the macaroni like a beach ball being released underwater.

The stranger was. Strange. Very tall. The lights Chloe had seen were his eyes--or rather, small tubes where his eyes should be. They twitched and turned independently of each other. He was smiling at her, and his smile seemed to stretch much, much further than most human smiles.

He was wearing a labcoat and a shower cap.

"Hello!" he said. "I'm going to kidnap you and raise you as my own so your parents can't stick an icepick in your brain to take away your psychic powers!" He tapped his chin, brow furrowing. One of his arms was made of metal, and ended in three claws. "Although I already did that first part, so...I have kidnapped you and am going to raise you as my own so that your parents can't stick an icepick in your brain to take away your psychic powers!"

Chloe considered this with some alarm. She didn't know what an icepick was, but she was sure she didn't want anything stuck in her brain. Psychic powers? Ah. That would explain the purple glow. Her caretakers had been very frustrated by it. But could she believe that they would stick things in her brain just so they could be less frustrated?

Yes. She could believe.

Her chest hurt. The macaroni was heavier than she first thought.

"Will you let me wear my helmet?" she asked.

"Of course!" He patted his showercap. "Headwear is a very important personal choice!

Chloe thought some more.

"This is acceptable," she said, and lifted her arms. The stranger stared at her. Neither of them moved for several seconds.

"What are you doing."

"You need to lift me up."

The stranger stuck his hands under her armpits and did so, holding his arms fully extended out in front of him. She dangled in the air, up, up, so high up, higher than she'd ever managed on a swing, and without the heavy weight of rope and swing seat to remind her she was pinned to this mudball planet. She felt weightless, floating, a dizzyingly wonderful feeling.

They stayed like that for several moments.

"Is this what parenting is?" the stranger asked. "It's a lot easier than they made it sound."

Chloe was so high up, her vision extended over the sea of cars, and she spotted her caretakers--former caretakers--rushing out of the grocery store, looking around wildly.

"Put me down," she said. She would have liked to stay up there for longer. For hours. Maybe she could get him to do it again later. The man used to do it all the time, before the arguing started. The stranger set her feet on the pavement, and began to toss the cart's contents into the trunk without any care for fragility. He did not seem particularly rushed or concerned, for all that he said he was kidnapping her. And wasn't kidnapping illegal?

The car was nothing like the sleek blue sedan her parents drove. The man washed it obsessively, and acted as if you had removed an organ if you so much as borrowed a single sparkplug, even if the project was important.

Not only did this car look as if it hadn't been washed, ever, it also looked like it might dissolve if you tried. It was mostly rust held together by duct tape. The car was decorated in strange patterns picked out by objects hot glued to the sides: rubber ducks, dice, plastic flowers, and many, many teeth. From the looks of it, mostly Odocoileus virginianus and Procyon lotor, although she had to wonder about some of the molars.

"Chloe!" someone shouted. "Chloe, where are you!"

Chloe opened the door of the car and climbed inside. There was a moldy grey blanket on the car seat. She unfolded it and draped it over herself. It smelled like seaweed and toothpaste. She tried to look as much like a non-child lump as she could.

The trunk closed. Through the thin blanket she saw the shadow of the stranger--her new caretaker--lean over her. He wound all three seatbelts across her, pinning her to the seat.

"Safety first!" he said.

The car's engine whined and groaned and the calls got closer. They wouldn't be able to see her under the blanket. She was hidden. It was safe.

All the same, she felt a rush of relief when the engine finally growled to life. The car shot backwards and then came to an abrupt halt with a crash and the tinkle of glass. The seatbelts held her so fast Chloe didn't even move.

"Whoopsie!" the man said. The car lurched forwards and came to another abrupt halt with another crash. "Sorry!" Forward. Smash. "Oopsie daisy!" Back. Crash. "Almost got it!"

This time when the car sped forward, it did not stop, although Chloe did hear a scream and a bump as they turned a sharp corner.

"There we go!"

Chloe waited a few more minutes before working her arms free and pulling the blanket down from over her helmet. The car was zipping down the road, swerving violently between the other cars. In the space of three minutes they shot through two red lights. Her new caretaker was humming an offkey ditty to himself, as if he was taking a casual stroll through the park.

"Who are you?" Chloe asked.

"I am Dr Calligosto Loboto! The greatest dentist in the world!" He threw out an arm dramatically and his claws punctured the roof of the car. She could see many similar holes clustered in the same area.

"My name is Chloe. I hail from the planet Cygnus A."

"Ooooh, you're an alien! That explains the helmet! You better keep that thing on, I don't want you suffocating in our atmosphere!"

Chloe couldn't name the feeling in her chest, except that it was a good one.

"That's what I kept telling them! Just because I can breathe your air doesn't mean it doesn't have a detrimental effect on my lungs!"

"Of course!" the doctor said, genuinely annoyed. "That's Alien 101! Boy, your parents are weird."

"They aren't my parents," Chloe said, firmly. "They're my human caretakers. They were looking after me while I'm on the planet. Someday my real parents will return for me, and take me back to the home planet."

"Makes sense to me! I wonder if that makes this less of a felony."

#caligosto loboto #psychonauts #chloe barge #i have...no excuse #i can't decide if i want to make like a whole thing out of it so here you go for now #pre-canon fic

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intangibly-here · 3 years ago

Text

i miss you (more than anything)

zhongli x gn!reader

- scenario; 2.4k words - modern!au - fluff - jealousy

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zhongli isn’t one for jealousy— usually.

title from mitski - francis forever.

requested by anon.

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“an excellent choice, sir.”

again with the nicknames...

slender fingers pick up a considerably stylized box, the smooth white a stark contrast to dark, glove-adorned palms. zhongli turns the box over in his hands, inspecting the various fine print explanations splayed along the edges of the plastic. now this is...

BANG!

clink.

zhongli barely stifles a flinch at the sound of the door slamming, hinges squeaking and metal lock clicking into place with a whirlwind of motion. amber eyes flick up to the doorway, then back down to the polished counter.

five minutes late.

he sets the ice cube he’s handling into a wine glass after a brief pause, beginning to fashion up a flute of apple cider vinegar. the pattering of lively footsteps against tiled flooring rapidly grows nearer, clattering to a halt directly across the bar from where he stands.

“hey there, mister zhongli! looking just about as boring as ever!”

hu tao plops into the cushioned chair, swiveling back and forth on the seat and leaning forward to watch him pour the concoction.

(it’s designated for customers of course— though that’s only usually. she happens to claim, to his exasperation, that she has “owner privileges”; whatever that could possibly mean when the place itself is meant to serve the needs of customers: that would include the spacing and chairs they may potentially desire when they enter the premises. unfortunately, he’s given up on understanding on her whims.)

from his position across the counter, zhongli absentmindedly spies the edge of a bright-red butterfly wing from underneath her outfit’s loose, flowing sleeves, the simple pendant string looped twice around her wrist.

swallowtail.

it’s the name (”like the butterfly, zhongli! the butterfly!”) of the establishment he’s currently employed at and is “run” by the granddaughter of a distant relative (though the bar is legally owned by said relative’s family). due to his— well, rather particular (per say) spending habits and a lack of mindfulness regarding the matter of what they liked to call savings (why would there be a need for these “savings”? he’d like to protest he’s traversed life well enough without them), he’d been pushed into putting the multitude of experience from past jobs into this one.

and well, here he is now.

chop. chop.

two evenly-sliced apple slices tip over from against the blade of the knife and onto the wooden cutting board. fetching a sprig of mint from the small potted plant just below the rack of knives (growing lights and shelving did wonders in the spontaneous lighting of the nightclub), zhongli finished decorating the non-alcoholic drink of choice for the pseudo-proprietress. who knew what havoc she’d cheerfully throw herself into, archons forbid, if it were liquor. she’s already enough of a handful as it is.

he sighs in resignation and slides the beverage over. the ice tinkles in the glass confines. he does have a favor to ask today after all. hu tao gives the drink a sniff, then puffs her cheeks in mock anger.

“no alcohol? booooo, you’re such a rock.”

she takes a generous sip anyway.

“so, what did you call me here for? not very zhongli-like for you to ask something of lil’ ol’ me. archons, have you been replaced?”

she squints at him judgingly, then raises an eyebrow when he hesitates to answer.

“doesn’t look that way, old man.”

zhongli can feel the beginnings of a headache forming between his brows. he waves his hand dismissingly as if flicking away her babbling nonsense.

“i have a favor to ask of you.”

“oh-ho?”

hu tao smirks playfully and pushes the half-finished drink aside, craning her neck forward.

“what can i do for our esteemed mister zhongli, hm? hehe.”

zhongli clenches his fist under the edge of the woodwork in an effort to calm his raging annoyance.

(it doesn’t help.)

he should just ask, shouldn’t he..?

“..i’ve been pondering this for a number of days now, but nothing quite appropriate for the occasion has happened to come to mind... do you happen to have any gift ideas for...”

he looks to the side to avoid eye contact and trails off, but hu tao immediately gets the memo.

“ohhh..” her smile only grows wider, “this is for your daaaate—”

zhongli’s face flushes the slightest tinge of rosy pink and he hisses a sharp “shush!” through gritted teeth. and here he had thought she couldn’t get on his nerves beyond how she’d already acted thus far...

the cheshire grin on her face still continues to climb.

“well, you’ve definitely asked the right person! how about...”

some new polaroid film? is what she had proposed.

“it’s not some fancy-schmancy anniversary gift, no? just a date! a date! don’t worry yourself so much over it— no, don’t look at me like that. if you called me over to ask about it, you’re deeeefinitely losing hair over this— okay, okay, i got it! don’t kick me out! old man... sheesh. why don’t you get some more polaroid film and wrap it up all nice? useful and an excuse to take more pictures together! i know, i know, i’m a genius— mmph!”

he can still hear her voice bouncing around in his head (”can’t believe you’re getting rid of your boss, mister zhongli! didn’t take you for the rebellious type—”). zhongli brings his hand up to his temple and breathes out another sigh. it’s not like her idea was a terrible one; if anything, it were a wonderfully exquisite proposal— not that he would tell her.

“i’d like to purchase this, if you would.”

he hands the box over to the shopkeep, who scans the package and rings up the bill. indiscreetly, he feels up the pocket of his jacket. thank the archons he remembered his wallet today. it would certainly be embarrassing to put this particular item on your tab.

“sure thing, mister zhongli. i’m assuming this is a gift,” they eye him knowingly, “so would you like it wrapped up?”

deja vu, his brain mutters, this is very much deja vu. he shuts it up promptly.

“not this time, but you have my sincerest thanks for the offer. i’d like to wrap it myself.” he can feel his (generally..) expressionless face flaring up the faintest hint of pink and berates his mind once more. only when it comes to you...

acquiring the purchased item, zhongli dips his head in acknowledgement as he heads out. the plants hanging from baskets strung along the ceiling sway their leaves to and fro, nearly catching a wayward lock of his hair. he smooths the stray strand back.

“thank you once again, aether. let lumine know they can drop by for some tea again whenever they’d like for me, please.”

the bell hanging over the doorway tinkles when he pushes it open, and the bustle of the busy harbor seeps into the tranquility of the shop. aether nods and waves a hand at him in return, resting an arm on the cash register.

“come again.”

while he’d imagined many ways your planned outing could play out, this was certainly not one of them.

he’s approaching the meeting spot you two had decided on (right in front of the flowering quince tree near the park; its blooms resemble those of simpler, smaller silk flowers, and it happens to be quite the scenic location to wait) when he spies not only your stature, but another figure residing right besides you.

who...?

as he steps closer, he can hear your laughter, the kind that he knows bubbles out of your chest and escapes your lips unconsciously. your amusement isn’t lost on your companion apparently, because they smirk teasingly, letting out a full-blown laugh of their own.

“oh, zhongli, over here!”

your voice snaps him out of his meandering thoughts, and he stops fiddling with his earring (when did he start doing that?), continuing forward from where he’d paused in his observations of this newcomer. something starts to bloom in his chest, small and bittersweet. he’s not sure what to make of it.

following your beckoning, zhongli finally makes his way to your side, mentally taking note of your.. friend? he doesn’t remember you mentioning anyone like this before though. surely he would remember your friends, no?

his earring sways in the wind, white tassel fluttering cheerfully.

“zhongli, this is my friend kaeya. i met him when i made that trip to mondstadt awhile back, remember that? oh, and kaeya, this is my boyfriend zhongli.”

(the little dragon curled up in his heart preens at your introduction of him, small and sweet.)

ice blue meets molten gold when zhongli’s eyes dart up to make eye contact with this stranger. they squint at him, assessing, then dip into the makings of a playful twinkle. a hand reaches out for a handshake, which he returns in equal measure. interesting...

“he got a little lost touring liyue and i happened to see him here in the park. small world, huh? i know it was our day love, but do you mind if we take him around for today?”

zhongli smiles appeasingly, gentle and assuring as always. he can recognize the slightly nervous look on your face, one that’s a stark contrast to how energetic you’d looked just a few minutes ago. if kaeya’s company makes you happy and you’d like to take him around, then who is he to refuse your request? you two will have more time to spend with just the two of you later, he reasons with himself. accompanying your friend, and in turn his acquaintance, is nothing big.

(and no, it’s certainly not you calling him love that makes him cave.)

“of course we can.”

tugging at the string of his eyepatch, kaeya swiftly ties his hair back and adjusts the collar of his shirt. “so, where to first?”

zhongli takes your hand in his, squeezing softly. you squeeze back.

getting along together should come just fine.

he takes it back.

he takes it all back.

he’d accepted it at first because, well, this was your friend. he shouldn’t be controlling who you interact with nor who befriended you - that’s not up to him. it shouldn’t ever be. however— with every passing moment that kaeya inched closer to you, taking up the entirety of your attention and bringing that bright, bright grin to your face—

(this was supposed to be your date. just the two of you. he hasn’t seen you in a month; surely he can feel a bit selfish, right?)

the three of you turn the corner to an intricately-themed restaurant and pause, where even zhongli looks appreciatively at the beautifully grown bamboo stalks lining the edges of its front walls.

“wanmin restaurant,” kaeya reads, craning his neck up to gaze at the signboard. bold red calligraphy is sprawled across the rough-cut wood. “awfully simple name for such a stunning place, isn’t it?”

if he weren’t stewing in a pot of conflicted emotions, zhongli would surely inform him of how carefully selected this title was, how it represented more than just a name, how it hid at least several decades worth of effort and teachings— but as it is, he (really, of all people) has no patience for that at the moment.

first tugging on the hem of your outfit, zhongli then takes you by the elbow and hastily leads you forward to the glass doors of the establishment. he grasps your hand in his as usual, but something must be off, because you twitch a little and look at him curiously.

he turns his head away, lips pursed just the slightest.

“let us dine here for the time being. it is an appropriate time and place, after all.”

the sun shines brightly in the clear sky as if illuminating his words.

kaeya raises an eyebrow, singular eye looking on inquisitively and arms crossed, then moves further ahead of you both once more. the corner of his mouth dips in a clear show of mirth. bowing with one arm held at the waist, one not unalike a formality from a server, he looks straight into zhongli’s eyes and holds the door open for entrance.

“that sounds like an excellent idea. well, if you would.”

“thanks for the tour around you two.”

kaeya hums his thanks with a cheerful lilt to his voice as you all stand under the porchlight of zhongli’s house.

(it’s not the largest abode, but it’s cozy and sweet, and it’s definitely enough for the both of you whenever you decide to stay over. tonight is one of those nights, and they may as well become more frequent after the trip you took abroad.)

his car keys reflect the glow of the bulb, swinging around his finger in loops. they clink noisily, metal against metal, and he grabs them all at once, halfway through another turn. in his car sits a box of treasure-themed artifacts, likely old and had found its way into your hands somehow. zhongli knows you’d been meaning to give them to someone, but he hadn’t known it were kaeya— either way, the artifacts that’d been laying on his shelves for weeks were now handed off.

ruffling your hair, kaeya pulls you in for a brief hug; although zhongli can feel the bitter pang in his chest, he stays where he stands, keeps it still and small. he can wait.

that said, the moment kaeya drives off, he’s hauling you into the house and curling up on the couch, pulling you onto his lap and tugging you into his arms. the long thought over gift sits patiently on the counter. it’s waited the entirety of today; it can wait another.

right now, he needs you.

your body sinks against his, relaxing from the lively, though exhausting, day. slumped against his chest, he burrows his head in the crook of your shoulder and cuddles you, nuzzling into your neck. finally, you’re home. home with him.

it’s warm...

“..it was our day...”

you shift your head at his mumbling, lifting his chin to presumably look at his expression. your attention is his now. not kaeya’s. not anyone else’s. just his.

(his eyes are soft and droopy, smudged red making them look especially mellow in the dim lighting, and lips pushed into the slightest pout. he knows what you’re seeing when you gaze at him fondly, and you can almost see the puppy eyes he sports. how unusual of him.)

“someone’s a little jealous here, hmmm?”

you drag out the syllables teasingly, and from lips that are pressing kisses against your skin, he responds a little muffled—

“perhaps.”

#zhongli #genshin impact #fluff #jealousy #zhongli x gn!reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #request #cecilia

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1engele · 4 years ago

Text

daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 9. hearts

Previous | Next

[warnings: mention of meth, swimming without pants on??, large body of water, momentary angst]

"why was it so easy for you to make it so hard for me?" —

You weren't drunk, but you were definitely not sober enough to comprehend how horrible the idea of being even relatively close to a large body of water whilst intoxicated was.

Ashley was not as much a lightweight as you'd proved to be, so she was virtually sober. the time you'd known her (just over a week) you'd come to know her as the most carefree of the group. She did things when she felt like it, and she did what she enjoyed.

Larry could be called carefree, as well—but he gave off more "I truly do not give one ounce of a fuck, and I will go along with any activity you want to do if I can smoke" vibes.

You hadn't figured Sal out yet. You tried not to think about it, but there were so many things you wondered about him. You'd seen his face. That had been your fault, and you were beginning to feel immense guilt for what you'd done.

You weren't going to inwardly speculate about what had happened to him—but you'd seen the look in his foggy blue gaze when he'd laid eyes on that dog at the party.

The car came to an abrupt halt, knocking you from your thoughts and lurching your body forward. Your eyes widened, and you look around frantically to figure out where you were or if you'd just had an accident—but turns out, you'd made it to Wendigo Lake.

"Well, you said you wanted to go to the lake," Ashley grinned, locking eyes with you.

You blink repeatedly, your pupils dilating to focus on the sight of the large body of water in front of you, glistening beneath the moonlight. A smile slowly etched into your face, and you reached to your right to open the passenger-side door.

It wasn't long before you'd reached the point where the slope began into a downward incline, your feet planted in the grass as you gazed down at the lake you knew had to be freezing—but the road-like reflection of moonlight on the water continued to call your name.

The breeze blew into your face.

You hadn't even heard the approaching footsteps and the crunching of grass when Larry, Ashley, and Sal walked up and joined you.

There was something melancholic about knowing that you were living in a moment you knew you'd miss.

"We should swim," you say, nonsensically.

Sal looks away from the lake and to you from his place on your right side. You turn your head to lock eyes with him.

"Y/N, someone's gonna get sick. I don't think you understand how cold this water gets-"

"Okay then," you mumble. "I should swim," you correct, "and if anyone wants to join me, they are more than welcome."

Larry and Ashley's laughter echoes into the dead air as you ambled down the slope, Sal standing there, watching—before following your lead.

"Let's think this over," he tries, matching your pace with ease. "You're going to regret it when you're shivering all the way home."

"Ashley can blast the heat."

"What if you drown?"

"I won't," you respond, "because you're getting in with me."

You're both stood on the shore of the lake now, locking eyes and regarding each other with your own equally stubborn determination.

"Hey!" You hear Larry's voice call from up the hill. The tension that's formed within the eye contact breaks once you've looked away from each other and peered up at the height of the slope.

"We're gonna go check out that forest over there," Ashley shouts, pointing towards the cluster of trees that were a measurable distance away. "Heard there's some gnarly satanic shit in there. Call if you need anything."

You exchange a glance with Sal.

"Alright," he yells back. "Don't get lost!"

"Can't promise that!" Larry sends both of you a grin before he and Ashley both head towards their destination, the sound of grass crunching steadily quieting as the distance between you grows.

When they're far enough away, you let out a quick sigh of relief. "Finally," you reach down to your shoes and began pulling them off, including socks.

You then reached down to the button of your jeans.

Sal yelps. "What're you doing?!"

You look up with raised eyebrows. "You think I'm swimming in these? I'll sink." You return your focus downward, pulling the zipper down and hook your thumbs around the waistband of your pants. "Nothing you haven't seen before."

It was almost excruciating to hide your sly smile as you bent at the waist to slide the denim down your legs. You stepped out of your jeans, pulled your phone from the pocket, and tossed the shed article of clothing farther up the hill, tossing your phone on top of it.

The device landed with a thud, resulting in an inward cringe on your part.

You didn't allow yourself to regard the fact that you were now standing in front of Sal with no pants on, so you just turned, stepped forward, and tested the water with a toe.

"Liar," you submerge a foot in, your body instinctively shivering against your will. "It's not that cold."

He scoffs, reaching down to rip his sneakers and socks off in your peripheral vision. "You're saying that now, but I'd like to hear the same thing when your bare legs are in there."

Sal tosses his shoes off near where you'd thrown yours along with his phone. He watches you submerge your other foot in, before following your lead.

Sal seems to handle it with a lot more ease than you, both feet now immersed in lake water. He doesn't seem to react physically, only standing with slack shoulders and his head tilted slightly upward. You watch the side profile of the prosthetic, and the way he lifts a hand and passes ringed fingers through vividly blue hair.

Moonlight illuminates the white face of the mask.

You can't see his real face, but you can picture him now. The tranquility of his expression, the curve of his dark eyelashes, his tongue passing over his lips...

The water is up to your calves now.

"I'm sorry," you murmur, angling your chin towards him. It's rushed, and sudden, and you momentarily doubt he even heard it beneath the rippling of water as he moves a bit closer.

"For what?" He asks, turning his head away from the moon and to look you in the eyes.

"I shouldn't have taken the prosthetic off without your permission. The guilt has been churning inside of me and I felt I needed to apologize for it eventually. I'm sorry."

Sal looks down, his eyes following the shape of your thighs before he locks gazes with you again. "You make me feel normal, Y/N. You'd never even asked about it before—and that means the world to me. I won't hold what you did against you."

"But..." you try, but he stops you.

"Y/N," he laughs sweetly. "Don't try and villainize yourself—you did nothing wrong. If anything... it was almost nice to know you weren't scared of seeing what was underneath."

You intake breath for the first time since the conversation began. You felt almost stupid, tears forming in your eyes as you stood within a freezing lake in just a crop top and your underwear.

"You should stop apologizing so much, too. You don't have anything to say sorry for."

"I'm sorry," you repeat, nonetheless.

He chuckles, fixing his gaze onto yours, an almost otherworldly perceptiveness burning in his striking eyes. "I understand how it feels to constantly find fault in yourself for something," he murmurs. "To live with it, to experience that guilt..."

You watch his Adam's apple bob. "It's hard."

A wave of despair washes over your body, and you don't even understand the context of Sal's statement. You're close to him now, and you can tell he's searching for an excuse to put an end to the topic—so you take his hand and divert attention elsewhere.

"Your rings," you utter, holding his hand delicately, looking over the silver and black rings that adorn his digits. "Where are they all from?"

He lifts his other hand for you so you have full access to every band that he's wearing on his fingers. Once he's shown you his right hand, two rings that seem to share the same theme catch your eye.

"I have a few more in my room," he replies, watching you trace a fingertip over the matching heart rings. "I don't know, I guess I collect them—some are gifted, some I've bought myself..."

"With whose money?" You tease, peering up at him through your lashes. The water swishes a little as Sal adjusts his weight.

His eyes squint a little, so you assume he grins. "I'm not dead broke if that's what you're insinuating."

"No, no," you trail off, looking back down at the rings with admiration. "I love these."

"Got them at the thrift store—something told me I would regret not buying them." He looks back up, stares into your downcast eyes for a long moment, and speaks again, "Why don't you have one?"

Your heart flutters. "You want to give me a ring?"

"Sure. Which one do you want?"

"Sal..." you can't help but smile, tracing his pale knuckle with the pad of your thumb. The swift breeze blows over your bare shoulders and conjures a shiver from your body. "You paid money for these. I don't want to take one from you."

"Don't you want a ring?"

You grin shyly. "Of course I do."

"Okay, pick."

You bite your lip nervously, sliding your finger over the silver ring with multiple black hearts engraved into the entire loop of the band. It didn't take much consideration—you'd fallen in love with the ring as soon as you'd laid eyes on it.

"This one," you audibly decide, meeting Sal's eyes anxiously.

Without another word, he eases the ring off of his middle finger and slides it onto yours. His hands are bigger than yours, and you fear it may not be small enough—but it does. It's a perfect fit.

"It was always kinda small on me," he began. "It's better for you."

You hold your hand out up and toward the moon, twisting it in different angles to examine the way the ring hugs your finger snugly.

You lower your hand back down to his, giggling. "We match now," you say softly, referring to the silver ring with the singular black heart that remained on his hand—the one that corresponded to the one now on yours.

As you absentmindedly turn his hand over, passing your eyes over his rings and the lines of his palms, you notice a faint bruising on his fingertips. Your eyebrows raise in alarm, and you meet his eyes and open your mouth to voice your concerns—but he beats you to the punch.

"It's from guitar strings," he murmurs. "Happens when I press too hard."

"Isn't that supposed to go away once you've played for a while? I've heard you mention once that playing the guitar isn't something new to you."

"Yeah, you're right. It is supposed to," Sal replies, intrigue on his tongue. "I don't know. I guess I'm weird."

You grin, stepping forward and submerged yourself further into the water—just enough so you were immersed up to your knees. You turned to face him. "I don't think you're weird. If you were weird, I wouldn't have gotten into a lake with you. At night... with no one else around. Oh, and with no pants on. That too."

Sal gestures his thumb over his shoulder. "Ash and Larry aren't far. If I were to murder you, they'd hear."

You shrug light-heartedly, bending just a bit to immerse your fingers into the water and flicking some towards him. "You could always cover my mouth and drown me. Effective and easy."

He raises his hands in poor defense, but the light splash still lands, lightly speckling his dark, long-sleeved shirt.

Sal bends just as you had (albeit a bit less, his arms were longer than yours) and splashes you gently. "After I've gifted you one of my prized possessions? Why would I do that?"

"That was only means to gain my trust!" You exclaim playfully, now using two hands to splash him.

"Splash me all you want, but I won't confess to something I'm not guilty of."

You stick your tongue out. "That's what they all say. You're only making yourself look stupid."

"I look stupid?" He laughs, pointing at himself before lowering his hand to splash you with a flick of the wrist. "You're the one with no pants on—in a lake, at night. If you die of hypothermia, it won't be anyone's fault but yours."

"All the more reason for you to murder me in cold blood."

"You're making no sense. Are you still drunk?"

"Ugh!" You groan dramatically, splashing him with much more vigor than the previous few times. He genuinely recoils this time, holding his hands out in defense before dropping them. A light shower rains down over his head, just barely dampening his hair and casting a wet sheen on the prosthetic.

"I'm not intoxicated! How dare you!"

Sal genuinely laughs from his chest, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting him. "I can't believe this," he says, running his hands through his hair.

You roll your eyes and move to immerse yourself in the lake water further, the questionable liquid sloshing around your thighs. That's when you hear a familiar two voices, laughing and yelling, and growing closer.

You and Sal turn to each other—Sal being a lot less concerned than you.

"Oh no," you murmur, looking down at yourself. "I have no pants on!"

Sal laughs (his laughter is normally a sound you genuinely enjoy hearing, but now it's obnoxious because it's not what you need to hear right now) and flits his eyes over you amusedly. "I can see that."

"Larry's a guy! He can't see me in my underwear!"

You look out at the open land, looking for your friends' approaching figures worriedly, but you see no one. You hear splashing as Sal continuously closes the distance between you both. "Yeah, I am too."

You roll your eyes, mutter something about boys never understanding anything, and start trudging through the water, back towards the shore.

Sal follows you through your efforts until you've stepped onto land, remaining perfectly patient even though the coldness of the water slowed your movements the entire journey.

He walks forward and tosses your jeans at you, along with your shoes, then sliding your phone in his pocket along with his device for safekeeping.

"I don't have a towel," you mumble. "My legs are too wet. I'll never get these on in time."

Sal blinks at you after somehow already getting his socks on. "Roll in the grass," he quips tightly like he's holding in a laugh. "That'll dry you off."

You scrunch your nose up and throw your shoe at him. It lands, bouncing off of his head with an audible thump, and then lands in the grass.

"Ow," he deadpans, placing a palm on the place the sneaker had just bounced from. "Geez, how hard can you throw?"

"Hard," you snark, wrestling your pants up your wet legs. Eventually, by the grace of whatever existential forces may exist, you managed to pull the denim up and over your hips.

You're zipping up your fly when Ashley and Larry finally appear.

"Dude," Larry gasps like he's been sprinting, bending to place his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. "Dude."

You and Sal stare at him curiously.

"There was a-a homeless guy!"

Ashley's laughing hysterically, and Larry doesn't evaluate, so Sal asks for context. "You're gonna have to evaluate, Larry. What do you mean there was a homeless guy?"

"Some dude was living in the woods! Had a whole fuckin' setup! I'm pretty sure he was cooking meth?!"

Sal just blinks repeatedly, like he was astounded, and couldn't believe that this was happening right now. "Did you guys bother him?"

"No," Ashley wheezes. "As soon as we saw him we bounced."

You're slipping on your shoes when Sal speaks again. "Yeah, maybe we should go..."

Larry finally stands up straight and starts up the slope, running his hands through his brown hair that's been messed while running. "Then in the name of the Lord, let's fucking get out of here."

You keep the seating arrangement you'd had on the way to the lake—girls in the front, boys in the back.

As soon as every door of the Ford Fiesta is shut, and the car becomes alive once again, the heat is immediately turned up. You breathe out a sigh of relief, leaning your head back against the headrest and allowing the hot air to blow against the cold flesh of your neck and shoulders. Your thoughts wandered as total relief washed over your body.

"Your jeans are dry," Ashley comments idly, startling you out of your reverie.

You hear what sounds like a laugh quickly concealed by a faux cough emanate from the backseat.

"Yeah," you reply dumbly. Ash stares at you, probably expecting you to say something else, but your mind goes blank, so she doesn't ask any further questions.

"Did I say he had no pants on?!" Larry suddenly blurts, clearly still mildly traumatized. "Everything was- it was just hanging out!"

Ashley cringes. "Don't put that image back into my mind, Larry."

"It wouldn't be the first person half-naked at Wendigo," Sal quips, locking eyes with you in the rearview mirror. No one questions his statement, most likely taking it as a reference to the infamous chaotic nature of that whole area—but you understand, sending him a contemptuous squint.

Ashley loops the car around to the exit path and it isn't very long before the vehicle is back on the road.

As heat sinks into your skin, reaches your cold bones, and the excitement slows down—your thought process de-thaws. You stare out of the window, watching the streetlights as they pass and listening to the sound of an acoustic guitar on the radio.

The music grows louder and drones in your ears. It's not even an electric guitar, but you still think of Sal, and his bruised fingertips. You twist his ring on your finger, running your opposite thumb over the heart-shaped indentations of the band.

Your mind wanders again. You think of that day in the storage room at the school, and that night in his father's car.

Eventually, you'd return the favor. You wanted him to feel as good as he'd made you feel. You owed it to him—and twice over.

But you'd have to wait. Patience was key—and all locked doors needed them.

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader

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taeescript · 3 years ago

Text

29 + 1 (Part Two)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (squint harder than before for taehyung x reader)

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin; a dash of enemies to lovers au

𝔴𝔠: 7.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: language; a plethora of drunk people, maybe a sext, and a ton of lying (possible implication of impending smut?!)

𝔞/𝔫: this part came out longer than i thought it would be but *shrugs* feedback and thoughts always welcomed. enjoy (: 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: DailyHive is real; this is not associated with it

part one || part three

The bright pop music that is blaring from the speakers does little to slow your animated talking. Bodies are packed into the small local bar, and students on summer break fill booths and form a snake of impatient, drunk (and horny) people. A slow trickle of the brazen has started to fill the dance floor as the evening morphs into the night.

You whip your hair into a ponytail and dab at the sweat that is beading your forehead. You definitely should have worn that sleeveless top rather than this thicker t-shirt dress.

“So, is he like your sugar daddy or something?” Taehyung asks, “Also drink.”

Friday nights were usually spent at home, snuggled under the blankets in your pjs binging another rewatch of Friends. After work today, you could no longer hold onto your secret and invited Taehyung out for drinks. His girlfriend, Fei, was supposed to join but had been held back for overtime.

You tip the shot back with no chase.

“You’re a monster,” he comments as he bites into his lemon piece.

The two of you had made a bet at the beginning of the evening: you each chose a pop song and each time it played, the nominee had to take a shot. That was your fourth of the night, and to say there was a bit of a buzz is an understatement.

“It’s all throat technique, Tae,” you say with a bit of a slur, “Hit the back and swallow. No innuendo intended. Also, why the hell haven’t you had any to drink?”

“You picked ‘Peaches’ for fuck’s sake.”

“I told you I don’t listen to pop music. It was the first one playing.”

“And shouldn’t that have told you something? Justin Bieber of all people?”

“Shut up. It’s your song.” You nod at the pink-faced barista for another round. She slaps your order in front of the two of you without so much a glance.

You don’t even know what song is playing, but you feel quite satisfied watching Taehyung make a face as he downs it in one go.

He clears his throat after the liquor has burned its way down to his stomach. “Back to my question: is he your sugar daddy?”

You bark out a laugh. Was he? Perhaps the fact that he paid for fancy meals at lunch? Those have been his one o’clock meetings for the past two months.

“I don’t know. I’d rather he buy me a car or pay my rent if anything. A casual 1k a week wouldn’t be so bad either. We just sit in his office and eat in secret, Tae. He’s ‘training me in the art of culinary cuisine’. I think it’s just so I don’t embarrass him by stuffing a shrimp cocktail up my nose.”

“You do know – ”

“Yes, I know. And I would never. It’s a metaphor. It’s just that the position ‘intern’ is quite loosely defined at DailyHive, don’t you think?”

Taehyung rinses his mouth with water before speaking. “So let me get this right. Mr. Kim calls you into his office, says he’s going to take you as his guest to the biggest tech event of the year, treats you to lunches and doesn’t ask for anything in return? No secret midnight meetups or shady business deals…”

You shake your head.

“Damn,” Taehyung says, resting his arm on the bar table, “Forget sugar daddy. He’s just daddy.”

Sticking your tongue out, you gag visibly at his comment. “Do not ever call him that again, Tae; ev-er.”

He laughs and watches you pensively. After a moment’s thought, he says, “Nobody has ever called me Tae.”

“What do they call you then?” you reply, wrinkling your brows together. A cute brunette across the room catches your eyes and for the briefest of seconds, you wonder what a one-night-stand would feel like.

He shrugs. “Just Taehyung.”

The brunette waves in your direction. You are about to return his wave when an equally cute brunette runs up to him. He promptly kisses her before swivelling her around to join his group of friends.

“Sorry. Do you want me to stop? I just assumed since we were out of the office…”

Oh Fate, how cruel you are. Life of twenty cats and solidarity, here you come. Maybe dogs. You feel like you could be more of a dog person.

“No,” he stops you, “You can call me Tae. Whatever you want.”

You turn your attention back on the also cute brunette in front of you. In all honestly, despite his youthful god-like countenance, he looks slightly out of place at this college bar with you in his upstanding business attire and dorkishly adorable thick-framed glasses.

“Sure. How about Tee-Tee? Or Hyungie? The TaeMan?” You wiggle your brows with the suggestion.

“God help me.”

The two of you clink your shot glasses together even though neither of your songs are being played.

His Apple watch lights up to indicate an incoming message. He relays the text to you, “Fei’s done work. She’s on her way now.” You can’t help but notice a shift in his previously excited demeanor.

You nudge him with your elbow. “Aren’t you excited? She’ll need a glass of wine or two to destress after work. I might be projecting onto you for this part, but you’re buzzed. So after we get her to unwind I’m sure the overwhelming power of pheromones will get you lucky tonight.” You wink at him to emphasize your point.

“She’s not a big drinker. She’s probably just going to come and ask to leave in five minutes. Bars like this aren’t really her thing either,” he states. He then unbuckles his watch and tucks it away into the pocket of his pants. Undoing the cuffs of his shirt, he rolls up the sleeves and continues to regard you solemnly. “Okay, next round is one me. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to switch songs?”

You notice how nice, long, and slender his fingers are. Plus the thing of girls liking when men have visible veins on their forearm? That had never really caught your attention until now.

“She’s a bit of a bitch,” you say and immediately regret, “Shit, sorry. That just slipped out. Alcohol.”

He offers you his water to drink.

“I mean, she’s a little…uptight at times? But people can be completely different in and out of work. I can only imagine how stressful it is in her position. Working overtime until 9pm on a Saturday night seriously sucks,” you say to try and mend your wrongdoing.

“Fei in the office is basically Fei at home,” he says softly, “It’s always work with her.”

“We support career-driven women, yeah?” A smile is offered from you to him.

He finally lets out a small one and nods. Out of the blue, he reaches over and covers your hand with his. Staring intently into your eyes, he says, “I know she makes you do her reports and occupies your time to do her coffee runs as well. You can say no to her. She may be my girlfriend, but you’re technically my intern, and I will stand on your side no matter what.”

“Um, okay. Thanks, Tae,” you say. His sincerity has caught you off guard.

At that moment, the sound of clicking heels pierce its way into your eardrums through the noise of the even busier bar. Taehyung quickly retracts his hand.

Fei arrives, not a hair out of place in her tightly pulled bun. Her lips are painted a striking red against the paleness of her skin, and her manicured nails dig into the forearm of Taehyung when she reaches them. Even though she is wearing an otherwise drab office business suit, the curvature of her body draws quite a few glances from the younger men in the crowd.

“It’s like a zoo here,” she sneers, turning away from a sacrificial lamb who had been bold enough step out of his circle of friends to greet her with a sleezy “hey”.

“Hi, Fei. Busy night?” you greet her first.

She gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Yes. I don’t know why you weren’t there. Isn’t it the intern’s job to complete reports?”

Again, a loosely defined use of “intern” at DailyHive.

You return her smile with a crisp one of your own.

She turns away from you and regards Taehyung, who looks as if he had been the sacrificial lamb instead. “Teddybear, let’s go home. You know this type of place isn’t my vibe. I’m getting a headache already.”

You raise an eyebrow at his pet name.

He turns a little bit pinker, if that is possible under the current alcohol-induced glow of his cheeks, and says, “Um, sure. Y/N, are you going to be okay getting home?”

Waving him off, you show him your phone. “30% left. I’ve got pepper spray in my bag and enough booze in me to not run from a fight. I’ll call an Uber home soon, don’t worry.”

Fei has already begun to fight her way through the squirming, dancing bodies. Taehyung glances quickly at her and turns back to you once last time. “Text me that you’re home safe.”

“Will do, boss,” you smile at him warmly.

He lingers for just a moment more before running after his impatiently waiting girlfriend.

You turn back to the bar and order another beer for yourself. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is perhaps the biggest perk of being single.

...

On the opposite side of town, sinking deeply into a soft lounge chair is Seokjin enjoying a rare evening out with his best friend. He has swapped his usual attire for a more relaxed fit of a white oversized crewneck and techwear bottoms. A heavy, exorbitant fur-lined long leather coat hangs on the coat rack beside the door to their private VVIP room. He swirls his glass of Chateau Lafite before sipping delicately.

Outside, only a handful of patrons sit quietly engrossed in their own conversations. It is a relatively empty night at the high-end lounge. A lady sings sultrily on stage with the smooth background of a saxophone as accompaniment.

Junho has poured himself another glass while he is talking to Seokjin. Seokjin had since slightly tuned out his friend’s rather elongated rendition of another celebrity sighting to occupy his mind with another individual.

“Earth to Jin? When did you get so lightweight since I’ve been gone?” Junho waves a hand in front of Seokjin’s nose.

Seokjin blinks to refocus.

“The mansion I bought last year or the one I bought last month?” he reiterates. Sensing that Seokjin truly had no idea what the topic at hand had been, he tries again.

“Where should I do my birthday party this year, man? I thought the mansion from last year since it’s closer to the city, but I feel like it’s been reused too many times. It’s not completely furnished yet, but the property I got last month is significantly bigger and I can probably host more people.”

“The new place then,” Seokjin answers half-heartedly.

Junho grumbles something intelligible.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Junho sighs, “Tell me what’s new with you. How’s that little project of yours going? I still can’t believe you won’t let me know who you’re planning to take to the Gala.”

Seokjin had refused to release even the slightest detail about you to Junho. Letting him know that Seokjin had agreed to one of his plans would be enough to inflate Junho’s ego for at least a little while.

“It’s been going...”

Junho waits for more of Seokjin’s answer, but his friend’s attention has been turned to a received text.

10:17pm “Safe and sound, Teddy Bear.”

10:17pm “Or should I say Taeddybear? 🥴”

10:18pm “That last beer done me rael godo.”

10:18pm “Real good**”

Seokjin raises a brow at the unknown number. He responds back.

10:18pm “Who is this? I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

Junho crosses his legs and sits back with a sigh. He presses the button to request for an attendant.

10:19pm “You know who… Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you for saying you’ve got my back. It’s definitely appreciated.”

The response doesn’t do much except to further pique Seokjin’s curiosity.

“Sorry,” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket, “Rogue text I think.”

Junho shrugs. “Is that right? Seems to have caught your attention.” There is now a manner of indifference to his voice.

“It’s going well, by the way – answering your question. I mean, all things considered. It’s not like I have to teach her how not to stuff a cocktail shrimp up your nose.”

His friend snorts. “I’d be concerned and against this person if it’s who you’re planning to bring.”

Seokjin’s phone buzzes again.

10:21pm “Pray for me when I wake up with the worst hangover of my life. I’m going to bed now.”

A moment of silence.

10:21pm “I hope I didn’t piss off Fei tonight for stealing you for the evening.”

10:22pm “Okay I’ll shut up now. Please don’t tell me you’re reading this. You should be getting some 😼💦.”

The emoji makes Seokjin choke, liquid sputtering from his lips.

Junho cusses. He angrily dabs at the speckle of red wine that has landed on his pearly white top.

10:23pm Download attached image. “Just in case, here’s a little something to get the night started 😉”

“What the hell man?” Junho gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. Luckily, the previously called attendant had arrived in time to escort him.

Seokjin barely notices that he is alone in room as he taps the download button. It isn’t until he has returned home and is looking at the picture one last time before bed that he realizes who his mysterious texter is.

The employee nametag clipped to the collar of your workday shirt hanging on the arm of a chair can only be found when zoomed in past your painted toes and naked feet.

...

You cannot hide your nervousness when you arrive at your “lunch meeting” the following Monday morning. All weekend, you had cursed yourself for not better checking who the recipient of your texts were before pressing send. Never had you thought that in your drunken stupor you would mix up “The Devil” in your contact list with “Taehyung Kim.” Curse you and your lack of friends beginning with the letter “T”.

You balk before, a hand poised in perfect position for a knock. Maybe he didn’t download it? And even if he did, it was just a troll feet pic. You had made sure that it was as pg-13 as possible before you had sent it.

“Hi,” you greet sheepishly when he has given you the go to enter.

In a smart plain blue button-up and round frames that are almost certainly for the aesthetics, the CEO of the company and your boss sizes you up and down.

“I know we’ve gotten to know each other better these past few weeks. But you’d think it’s still common courtesy to at least make eye contact,” he says. You look at him wide eyed without a word.

He rolls his eyes but does not gesture to your usual seat. In fact, you don’t spy a take-out container in sight. He instead stands up and picks up his phone, walking to the door. He notices you have yet to move.

“Let’s get moving. You’ve only got a 45 minute lunch.”

You scramble to match his speed and catch Taehyung’s eye as you grab your jacket at your desk. Taehyung’s gaze follows you as you hurry to leave in pursuit of Seokjin’s coattail.

...

The restaurant is a popular vegan establishment with a plethora of greenery crawling up its high ceilings and a window-framed overview of the city’s skyline. Waiters and waitresses who may just as well be walking New York Fashion Week serve you brunch mimosas on a golden plate; they attentively wait to the side in case you ever run out of water.

Common topics are rare between the two of you. Initially, you respectfully kept quiet and only answered questions when asked, but you have never been one for awkward silence. Yes, it’s awkward only if you make it awkward; there is just no denying the hanging suspense that curls your toes each time. Recently, you have started with simple inquiries regarding the company, who they might meet at the Gala and everyday mundane topics.

“You’re probably wondering why we’re out of the office,” Seokjin says. He continues shortly after taking a bite of his meal and ignores the look of your surprise at his initiation of a conversation. “My office has been getting stuffy with the warmer weather so I thought it’d be nice to get some fresh air. How’s the food?”

You nod, making small sounds of contentment as you chew on the Avocado Lime Tartare. Mmm… tart-y.

He takes a deep breath in, stalling the incoming conversation. “It’s my friend’s birthday this next weekend.”

“Oh,” you say, “Happy early birthday to him.”

“He’s my best friend.”

“Well… An extra happy early birthday to him.”

A sigh. “Are you free next weekend?”

Your chewing comes to a halt and you blink once at his question. Next weekend is the weekend before the Silver Gala. It is also the sole weekend before your birthday the following Friday after the Gala. You had hoped to spend it with Taehyung and maybe even Jimin who had promised to be in town on a long overdue vacation despite your chastising to visit your parents first.

He senses your trepidation. Quickly, he explains himself,

“He’s having a birthday party Saturday night. He has a place about an hour north of here. I can have somebody pick you up if that’s more convenient. I don’t have a birthday present for him and thought it’d be nice for you to meet him.”

“You’re giving him me for a present?” you ask, incredulously.

He bites his tongue. He never anticipated how awkward this conversation could go.

“You’re going as my plus one. He really wants to meet you; in fact, he insisted that you be there. He’ll be at the gala too. I have something else planned for his birthday present,” he adds hastily, “Besides, you’re less than qualified as a present.”

Musing silently to yourself, you wonder if in any situation should a human be qualified as a present. Despite that, you hate yourself as you agree on the spot.

The rest of the lunch passes by quickly in dull silence. As Seokjin pays for the meal on the company card (and hands you the receipt for reimbursement), you note that there has been no comment made on any strange photos texted to him over the weekend.

Perhaps being nonchalantly implied as a human birthday gift to a stranger is your karma for sending weird texts to your boss.

Seokjin stays inside the car as he drops you off at the office after lunch, already preparing for his next business meeting. You nod your goodbye and step onto the pavement through the courteously held open door of the limousine.

“Y/N, try a soft pink. Fuchsia is not your colour,” he tells you as the door is closed.

He then leaves you standing in front of the large office doors, staring at your chipped, week-old purple toenails.

...

“I’m not exactly expecting a package in the mail or a dress laid out on the hotel bed – ”

“You guys are staying at a hotel?” Taehyung says over the phone.

You are standing in your bedroom, an hour before when Seokjin is supposed to pick you up as an offering to his best friend. There are two dresses laid out on your Hello Kitty bed covers: a simple black dress you had worn once when you were a little bit more in shape and your prom dress.

“No, I’m at home. But I mean, let me play into this movie metaphor.”

“You suck at metaphors.”

You have your phone propped up on some pillows so that you can see Taehyung as you debate your fashion decision. He is in a relaxed white tee, hair messily framing his face after a shower and a bowl of popcorn in his hands. You watch as a droplet of water runs down his face from his still-wet hair. He nonchalantly licks it off from the side of his mouth.

“As I was saying, it wouldn’t hurt to get me something. He made it seem like it was a big deal. Like doesn’t the male lead usually surprise the female lead with a big bouquet of flowers and this over-the-top expensive dress which she wears and makes the male lead fall head over heels in love with her?”

He chews silently on a kernel then probes, “You want Mr. Kim to fall in love with you?”

“No,” you hastily correct, “It’s a metaphor. I think you’re the one who sucks at metaphors.”

There is a beep on your phone to indicate you have another incoming call.

“Tae, I’m going to have to call you back. My brother’s calling me,” you tell him. The black dress; your old prom dress is way too early 2000s. Black never hurts.

“Okay. Have fun tonight. Pretend that it’s your birthday party. And then I’ll meet you for brunch tomorrow, my treat? You can tell me all about it,” he says. “Also the black. You look cute in that one.”

“My party if I was 30, rich and successful. Oh wait, I’ll have one thing in common soon; that’s a start. Thanks though. I’ll call you tomorrow morning once I get up,” you say, then switch the call over to your brother. You had missed the flush of his cheeks as you busily swipe your phone.

Sticking the prom dress back into your closet, you rummage around the meager display of shoeboxes for a pair of high heels.

“Hey, Jimin,” you greet over the phone.

“Jesus, I do not need to be accosted by my half-naked sister,” he yells over the phone.

You turn rapidly, seeing that you had accidentally continued a video call from when you had hung up on Taehyung. You throw a pillow over the camera in your haste to cover yourself up.

“I was going to ask why you’re dressed like that but on second thought, I think I’ll leave your sexual exploits as your own secret.”

Despite how disturbed you feel about this comment, his cheerful voice makes you smile.

“So little sis, the weekend before the big three-oh!”

“Please stop reminding me.”

“Where do you want to meet tonight? I just got off the plane, but I can be ready to meet in about an hour. I booked a hotel close to the airport.”

Shit. You forgot to tell Jimin. These heels will have to do.

“Um… I, uh…”

“What?”

You clear your throat and begin to undress in front of the mirror. You have a sudden conscious thought that the dusty treadmill in your living room seems to be staring daggers at your back.

“I’ve got plans tonight.”

“Plans? I wasn’t even aware you had friends here.”

“Ouch, Jimin. But yes, I have friends. In fact, I am meeting a friend for brunch tomorrow if you want to join. I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”

“He?” Jimin repeats, “Should I put on my big brother boxing gloves? Give him a good talking to in case he’s interested in my baby sister?” Pause. “Was that who you were calling before?”

You bite your answer back, not feeling the need to go down that rabbit hole.

“He’s just a friend; A co-worker really,” you say, “He’s also unavailable. And before you suggest anything, his goalkeeper is technically one of my bosses so I do not want to try and shoot past her thank you very much.”

Jimin laughs. “I wasn’t going to suggest anything. Well if you’re busy tonight, tomorrow morning works for me. Give me a call. I’ll spend the night in watching some good ol’ Netflix and enjoy this vacation time.”

“Sorry again,” you apologize.

“Go out and have fun,” he says, “You deserve it.”

The two of you finish off the call with the usual goodbyes. You have forty-five minutes to dress the part of a sparkly birthday surprise for the co-founder of the company you work for. Throwing on your favourite throwback music, you get to work.

Once satisfied, you snap a picture and sending it to Taehyung making special care that you have picked the right individual this time.

...

The mansion is bigger than you could have ever imagined, and the amount of people present are…

“You’re telling me I can do whatever I want tonight,” you ask Seokjin in the car.

There is no denying that Seokjin knows how to dress for an event. In a velvety black and white suit, contrasted by his blonde hair which he has elected to temporarily dye for the evening, he looks very much the posh CEO magazines brand him out to be. You are glad you elected for the simple black dress as standing beside this Renaissance statue in a floral pastel yellow dress would be like planting dandelions in Kanye’s sculpture garden (if he ever wanted one).

“The majority of people won’t recognize you after tonight. They’ll also be too drunk to even register anything you tell them,” Seokjin says.

He cannot believe that you chose a simple black dress. Did you really not own anything remotely feminine besides the most generic clubbing outfit? Even if you had wanted to make an appearance as a hooker, at least make it an expensive-looking one. Maybe he should have bought you that Versace dress he spotted in the window the other day. Instead…

“Take this. Your earrings are too gaudy for this event.”

You touch the sparkly black cats you have put into your ears. Their eyes are made of crystal, and you thought it looked quite fetching in the light. Opening up the box, you see a dainty elegant pair of teardrop earrings that may or may not be of real diamonds.

“Only Junho will know who you really are and then you can enjoy the rest of your night. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being held here against your will.”

Putting them on, you note that even this simple change in attire has elevated the entirety of your presence. You felt as luxurious as this gift.

“Thanks, Seokjin,” you try the first name basis he had insisted upon for this evening, “Not going to lie, I had imagined that maybe you’d send me a dress in the mail or something, but this is still very nice.”

He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Like in the movies? Please, I run a start-up company. I’m not a millionaire and I don’t think you would appreciate my handouts.”

You don’t respond, making your second note of the night on the Prada label on the cuff of his suit. “To clarify, I don’t introduce myself as your plus-one tonight.”

“No. I don’t want you associated with me,” he curtly states. He watches as your smirk twitches and he hits himself mentally in the head again. “It’s to protect you. There are bound to be tons of paparazzi tonight at a party as big as this. I don’t want you to find yourself in the tabloids tomorrow morning. Just be smart.”

The car pulls to a stop after inching its way up to the front door. People mill about outside in extravagant brands, holding glasses of champagne. The man of the hour is somewhere inside the building, charming his way into new business deals as well as making new friends.

“Stay close to me. You can leave after we meet Junho. It is his birthday after all,” Seokjin offers a hand as you step out of the car.

You take it, looping yourself into him so that your hand rests on his forearm. You are only 13 days younger than Junho, and yet this striking contrast in lifestyle hits you like a landslide while the two of you walk up the stairs and into the mansion.

Inside, it is dim with disco lights flashing to the beat of amped party music. Upon entrance, the two of you are offered glasses of liquor (you take a swirling iridescent drink) to which you are then ushered to where the birthday boy lounges.

Junho has an even more youthful face than Seokjin does. Where Seokjin’s features exude class and charm, Junho appears mischievous and looks to have stepped out of every girl’s bad boy dream.

You stop Seokjin with a tug and make him look at you. “Tell me: do I look like a passable birthday offering?”

Seokjin rolls his eyes and pulls you along with him.

“Jin!” Junho hollers loudly across the room when spotting his oldest friend. There is a doll-like female magnetized to his side. “This is Clara, my date for the evening.”

Seokjin shakes her hand and greets them. The female cannot seem to pry her eyes away from this handsome new stranger. He introduces himself chivalrously to her as Junho sides up to you and grips your hands in his. His breath smells strongly of mixed drinks, and you know that in about fifteen minutes the entire night will be a blur for him.

“You must be Y/N!” he says excitedly, “Jin didn’t tell me that you were coming! What a surprise!”

“I am,” you greet back with a large smile. “Although I’m also surprised. Seokjin told me that you had insisted I came.”

Seokjin grits his teeth, annoyed at Junho. Would he ever learn when to keep his big mouth closed?

Laughing loudly, Junho grabs two drinks just as a waiter passes by and hands them to you. “Insist might be a strong word,” he says, drilling another hole unknowingly, “I honestly thought I’d have to play part-time wingman tonight. But I’m glad he’s got someone by his side.” He jabs you a little too hard in the ribs. “Next week’s gala is going to be fun! Okay, now there’s only one rule tonight: there are no rules!”

The four of you clink your glasses together, while you do your best to hide an embarrassed smile on behalf of the birthday boy.

“You bet I’m going around as your trophy wife tonight,” you whisper in Seokjin’s ear when Junho looks away.

He whirls around to look at you, the tip of both your noses impossibly close together. He can taste the acidity of the wine when you breath out with a wicked smile. He barely has time to stop you as you peel yourself away to mingle with the crowds.

Seokjin is about to follow you but Junho pulls him away, flamboyantly introducing his handsome best friend to a group of international models. He turns on his brightest smile, but his heart thunders in his chest at you calling yourself his wife.

...

You twirl around in your dress, nobody noticing the small splash of champagne on the front of it in the quickly changing lights.

“He bought this for me last week. Says it reminds him of the first night we met. Our eyes met across the waters in Tuscany where he was on a business trip. I’ll let you on a little secret, but I was his mistress for a little while.”

Seokjin cannot make out the words you are saying to a small but growing group of people around you. He stands across from Junho, but looks over the latter’s shoulders to watch as you do another spin.

“A little while, Charlotte? Are you still his mistress?” an older lady with an exuberant amount of jewels hanging off her body whispers with a keen interest in your expertly spun story.

Charlotte Dior Laurent, an identity you are pretty sure is an amalgamation of French brands from the top of your mind. You continue to personify this character however.

“Don’t worry. He’s left her since. I know I know, my friends all say the same. ‘He’s already been divorced three times. How can you be sure he won’t leave you?’”

At this point, you are in way over your head at having told this story to at least two other groups and a multitude of other renditions to whomever you have met tonight. But there is something powerful about liquid courage as it courses through your body.

The lady lays a hand on your arm. “I don’t want your heart to break. You are still young.”

Looking up between the heads of your audience, you catch Seokjin’s eyes. They are fiery and it sends a strange sensation up your toes to your abdomen. You give a titillating wave at him in which he does not return.

“He says I’m special and different. How can you say no to that?” you exclaim with exasperation, fully committing to the poor damsel just oh-so in love.

There is a look of genuine concern on the lady’s face at your statement.

Before you can dig yourself a deeper hole, you place your empty glass on the table and excuse yourself. You do not know if it’s the drinking on a relatively empty stomach or if the room is really much warmer due to the multitude of bodies, but you head out to the balcony.

On your way out, you notice that the clock reads twenty minutes past midnight. This gives you a shock at how fast time has passed. Perhaps you should go find Seokjin if you are to get a decent amount of sleep before meeting with Taehyung and Jimin tomorrow. Speaking of Taehyung…

You pull out your phone and see that there are two unread messages. The first is from Jimin, confirming that he is indeed invited to brunch tomorrow morning. The second is a response from Taehyung.

11:09pm “Wow. You have me a little lost for words. I had imagined you’d look nice in the dress but… You really are beautiful.”

Smiling, you type in your response.

12:21am “Thanks, Tae. You’re up late.” You take a picture of the earrings Seokjin had gifted you and attach it to the message. “What do you think of these?”

Barely have you returned your phone into your bag when it buzzes again. This time you receive an attached image. Taehyung seems to be sitting in front of a monitor, as his face glows with a blue light and contorted into a pensive furrow of his brows.

12:21am “A little different from your usual style. Are they new? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear those.”

12:21am “Fei’s out with some friends tonight. She likes when I wait for her to come back before I sleep. To make sure she’s safe, I guess.”

12:22am “Pooey. I should’ve brought you as my plus-one 😩. Also, Seokjin bought them for me for tonight. He says my other earrings are too gaudy.”

12:24am “First name basis 🙃”

12:25am “How is your night going? Having fun?”

You are about give Taehyung a call for a detailed recounting of tonight’s escapades when someone speaks out from within the shadows.

“A penny for your thoughts?” He walks into the moonlight. You flush, meeting the eyes of this particularly dashing gentleman, the phonecall immediately forgotten.

Oh, Alcohol, you make even the smartest of people do dumb shit. And right now, your effects are even worse on this idiot.

Your mouth hangs slightly open as you watch him puff out smoke from his cigar and offer it to you. He brushes up beside you, his fingers trailing up your hand which grips the balcony. You cannot seem to break away from his gaze.

“Lung cancer has an increasing incidence rate particularly for females due to smoking. Are you sure you want to be condoning this type of behaviour?” Seokjin interjects himself between you and your Tuxedo Mask, pushing the outstretched cigar back towards its owner.

There is a small stare down amongst the two men before the latter quietly exits the stage. Your eyes continue to linger on him even as he walks towards another female alone in the night enjoying the outdoor breeze.

“You’ve just ruined by chance. I could have seduced then blackmailed him with the story of his illegitimate child to play Black Widow,” you whine.

Seokjin takes the glass that had somehow magically appeared in your hand during the short walk from inside to outside on the balcony.

“How many have you had since we came?” he asks.

You sigh wistfully, still in your dangerous daydream. “I don’t know. I’ve lost count.” You turn your attention back to him eventually. “What are you doing here? Did you see me with him and get all jealous, hubby?” you tease.

He scoffs, drinking from your glass and pulling a face. Once again, there is that twist and jump within his chest, but he attributes it to whatever nasty concoction he had just ingested. He pours its contents over the railing and into whatever shrubbery lies below. “You seriously went with being my trophy wife?”

You shrug. “Of sorts. You’d better be right about people being too drunk slash not caring about me enough after tonight to remember the things I’ve said. ‘Cuz you’ve been divorced three times, had me along with another as your mistress, I think you’ve sired a few illegitimate children and all in all, a Games of Throne life. Damn, maybe I made you a little too badass.”

“You’re having water for the rest of the night,” he says.

You glare at him, contemplating on making a remark about his equally flushed face but decide against it. Instead, you lean onto the balcony and give a cat stretch. A large sigh escapes from you.

Wordlessly, he shakes off his jacket and places it around your shoulder all the while averting his gaze on the unblemished skin of your upper thighs that had been exposed from your previous movement.

Your blood feels like liquid fire coursing through your veins. Feeling overheated even in the evening breeze, you give him back his jacket. You note his reluctance to meet you even as you throw what could be a thousand dollar jacket in the air to him. “So what’s it like to live like this every day?” you say in wonder. You feel said breeze return and lean over the balcony to catch its chill.

“Like what?” he asks. The warm summer night’s breeze blows through, settling his hair in a childish tousle.

“Like rich,” you say. You sigh again. “Believe it or not, I’m the same age as your birthday boy best friend.

And everything feels absolutely unreal right now. If I hadn’t agreed to come here tonight with you, I’d probably be at another dingy bar knocking back shots with my brother and friend.”

“Are you a secret alcoholic?”

You glare at him. “No,” you state matter-of-factly. “As I was trying to share, this type of lifestyle is something I could ever only imagine. I’m not ungrateful about spending time with them, but at the end of the night I’d go home, sweaty, drunk and gross, and then simply pass out. My bank account might be a couple hundred bucks lighter. Come Monday I’ll be working my ass off just to earn back what I had spent. Then cue the repeating cycle.”

Resting your chin on your palm, your other hand sweeps your hair back behind your ear.

“It’s amazing the difference a few life choices can have.”

Seokjin remains silent beside you. Truthfully, he is at a loss of words. The moonlight plays across your face and caresses your nose down to your lips. You are arching your back once again to pull away the soreness that comes with wearing high heel the entire night. It is just a simple black dress but on you it made you look –

“Well, you’re Mrs. Kim tonight,” he starts.

“Charlotte Dior Laurent,” you correct him.

He raises an eyebrow. “Okay… Ms. Charlotte Dior Laurent. Tonight you get to live like the rich, as you’ve put it. As a rich person, what would you like to do?”

You ponder his question a few moments for the answer. “Hmm…I think I’d like to play golf. It’s a rich person’s sport. I want to play it on a private golf course, wearing cute golfing outfits and talk about million-dollar deals with a client without a care in the world. I want to order sangria by the gallon.”

He laughs out loud. It takes a while for him to be able to speak again, but when he does you feel as if the night has been illuminated a few degrees brighter. “I personally don’t have a private golf course, but Junho does here in his backyard if you’re up for it. I can’t promise cute golfing outfits so you’ll have to do with your wine stained dress. And if you’re really up for it I can pretend to make business deals with you, that’s my job anyways.”

You grin, taking the hand he has offered you. “Call.” The two of you shake upon his suggestion.

As he is leads you by the hand towards the dim gates of said golf course, you tug at him gently. “There’s something missing…” you say.

He shakes his head and pulls you back in towards the party room.

“I’ll see what they have at the bar.”

...

As the hands of the clock continue to spin past another hour, the summer night takes a chilly turn. Seokjin has lent you his jacket but even that cannot stop your fingers from becoming numb. Your hands shake even as they tightly hold the golf club. Seokjin watches you in silence as you prepare to hit the golf ball, a beer in one hand and a few opened bottles littered on the grass beside him. The club hits the ball with a resounding “cling” but does little in propelling it a few centimeters.

“This one doesn’t count,” you announce, “It’s too dark to see anything here.”

Seokjin takes a swig as you readjust your position. You sway in the wind and the last tendrils of your hair come undone in its half up half down hairdo. Your hair now whips wildly around your face when another gust blows through.

“Shit!” you exclaim, missing the ball again. “Why is golfing so hard?!”

You throw your club down and trudge to Seokjin. The six pack the two of you had been sharing has officially been depleted. Seokjin offers you his half empty bottle. This time, you are the one watching as he goes to your spot and effortlessly swings his target into the darkness.

He smirks from the spot.

You grumble. “You’ve had years of practice. Not fair.”

“You’ve got to do better than that, Mrs. Johnson,” he says, teasing you.

Your grumble becomes more audible. You place the now empty bottle on the ground and cross your arms against your chest. Since telling him of your other American alias from tonight, he has not ceased to remind you of your strange choice of name.

“Just so you know, Mrs. Johnson can afford both an affair and the consequential prenup,” you huff.

“It’s still a stupid last name.”

“It’s an American multinational corporation with an income in the billions, okay?”

“Keep telling yourself that if it makes you sleep better at night. Now come on, I’ve got one last ball. Take a swing.”

Groaning, you shuffle over. You wish you had not suggested golf. You had never been good at sports anyways – bad hand-eye coordination.

He stands beside you this time, scrutinizing your every movement with hawk-like eyes. “No, not like that,” he says, “Have a wider stance and bend your knees. Better centre of gravity gives you a better swing. Also hold it with a neutral grip.”

You readjust your positioning following his instructions.

“Index finger down the center. Good. And three knuckles on each hand. No, that’s two. Okay your hands are just weird now. Three. I said three.”

“Stop standing there and show me then, Mr. Know-It-All,” you say, your patience in this makeshift lesson also coming to an end.

He walks closer to you, reaching out for the golf club. He retracts his hands in seeing that you have yet to let go. “You got to – ”

“You can touch me. I did tell you that Mrs. Johnson can afford an affair and prenup. Besides, I’m not going to be able to learn anything if I can’t even see you in this dark.”

He comes behind you and puts a foot between yours to guide your stance. Wrapping his arms around you, he fixes the placement of your hands to grip the shaft of the club in the way he had previously instructed.

Perhaps it is the mixture of wine, champagne and beer offered tonight, but being enveloped in the warmth of this embrace intoxicates you. The tingles that are sent down from his soft breathing on the base of your neck, make you shake like a leaf in the wind.

He inhales the sweet undertones of your perfume. The tendrils of your hair brush against his collarbone, sending a sensual kiss onto his skin. Unconsciously, he draws you closer to him, shielding you from another gust.

“Now you just want to swing,” he says, the words a mixture of a whisper and guttural grunt. His chest rumbles with it, passing the vibration through to your back.

You remain as still as a statue and lean ever so slightly back into him until your entire backside is pressed upon him.

You can’t stop yourself as you ask him, “Do you want to have sex with me?”

...

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theflashdriver · 3 years ago

Text

Inspiration (A Silvaze Fanfic)

Birdsong played on the time traveller's ear in a way that so few other sounds could. Though the sound was ambient by definition, the sweet sound always managed to drift its way to the forefront of his mind. Others could walk beneath the roost of a hooting pigeon or straight by a flock of bluebirds without so much as a glance or a moment's misstep. He knew that his drawn gaze and moments of pause were the result to the sounds' absence in his life prior, that much of the noise he'd known had been rough and only served to direct him toward danger, but surely the beauty of the noise wasn't lost on others? Surely the chipper squawking of crows and laughing hoot of ducks didn't just go unnoticed?

It was in moments like that, and in moments like this, where Silver the hedgehog, age sixteen, was faced with the exceedingly chequered nature of his own experience. He sucked in a deep breath and cast his eyes down, feeling his brow immediately grow heavy at the sight of a series of metal buttons he still scarcely understood. His lips pursed, he felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck, and then he blew. The shaky, discordant, sound of a consistent whistle, its pitch quickly modulating to make a crude melody was enough to send the birds scattering and brought his ears to furl.

The bottoming out of his lungs and a cough catching in his throat for the squealing to end after at least two painful minutes of playing. His hands caught his knees as heat began to fade from his cheeks, spluttered mouthfuls of air slowly restored his normality. In his right hand, presently pressed against his leg, was an artefact he had retrieved from the future; a world that'd had the remainder of its moon crash into the surface.

Presently however, his surroundings were that of the secluded royal gardens, specifically its orchard; a site he'd come to frequent during his infrequent stays in the Sol dimension. As he managed to rise, blinking the tears from his eyes, he took in the view of fully mature apple and pear trees along with their quarter ripe fruit. Not a single bird was in sight, much contrasting the state he'd found the little patch of woodland in. He heaved himself over to sit beneath a particularly broad-leafed tree, bringing his head back to rest against its brown bark.

For three days he'd been back, not from that destroyed world but from making sure it was put right; delivering the necessary information regarding Eggman's present plan to Amy and Tails, knowing they'd take the situation more seriously than the blue blur. He hadn't yet been to check how successful his gift of foresight had been utilised, due primarily to the insistence of his partner. Hopefully he wasn't spending too long out here, the purple feline was supposedly cloistered in a meeting focused on reallocating areas protected against fishing, but he had no idea how long that'd take. Yesterday she'd chewed him out for disappearing when her meeting had ended early, waiting for him at the palace's back door with an analytical frown on her face.

As he raised his instrument again, catching his hazy reflection in its dull and scratched metal, he couldn't help but recall how difficult it'd been to lie to Blaze. If it wasn't for his stashing of the flute in one of the garden's hedges, having hidden as part of an obfuscation that he'd just lost track of time while wandering the grounds, this whole effort would have already failed. Hiding this whole endeavour was strange, part of him felt bad for even doing it, but the hedgehog had his reasons.

Not the most recent time he'd left a destroyed future but the time before that, he'd arrived in her world on a late Winter evening. He'd found the world quiet, save for the crunch of snow beneath his feet. The hedgehog had manifested on the far end of the gardens, in a position not too distant from where he was presently sitting. Too exhausted from his efforts in the future, he'd been forced to trudge his way toward the palace. This effort though, that slow march through the snow, had proven more than worthwhile as a song trickled its way into his ears.

Her silhouette had been perfect, so warmly lit against the drawn curtains of her balcony. He'd recognised the music immediately and been thoroughly pulled toward it, but that sight had brought him to freeze. Blaze's skill with the violin hadn't existed in their prior life, it was unlikely that even one of the wooden instruments had survived on that world, but he'd become aware of it not long after meeting her. The feline didn't play often, but he'd heard songs drift from into the guest bedroom he often found himself resting in. Though he'd often expressed his amazement at her playing, but it'd only ever been met with embarrassment.

That night however, the sweet song she'd played had made an impact upon him unlike any other sound, even the fresh call of birdsong couldn't compare, and he knew it was a gift that he had to match. Exhaustion had fled his bones, granting him the will to fly up to her balcony and lightly rap against her windowpane. Caught in the act, embarrassed as she was, the princess had kept playing for him, sharing that song up until its conclusion… and then just a few more, after a claim that it'd been a while since she'd last practiced. That night had hung in his memory so securely that, upon sighting an opportunity during his next time traveling venture, Silver had no choice but to grab it.

Contrasting her well maintained violin, its wood so perfectly varnished and bow so thoroughly maintained, was his instrument. Though he had tried to clean it, the truth was that the flue was essentially a relic of the world it had belonged to; its exterior was scratched, and he had no idea whether its internals were whole. The psychic had found it in a destroyed Station Square music shop, beneath no fewer than eight smashed acoustic guitars. From damaged books, he'd managed to piece together what he'd hoped would be a guide on how to play the instrument, but it'd only got him so far before the language became too technical.

Shirking that thought, he pursed his lips again and retook the position the position he'd seen in a dozen torn diagrams; right hand facing forward and the left facing back, his thumbs securing the metal shaft aloft and trying not to let his gaze linger on its rusted sections. Blowing again, he managed to sound out a simple scale, the first thing he'd ever successfully played. He'd managed to memorise the finger patterns for a few simple songs, hot cross buns and over the rainbow, but his attempt at the latter continued to sound wrong as he heaved a fresh breath. His focus hardened as he blew again, attempting to maintain consistent airflow as he pressed the tabs in sequence.

Something was wrong, it just had to be, and he didn't want to blame it to blame it on the instrument, not yet at least. Setting the flute in his lap, the hedgehog looked down at his gloved hands and thought back. Blaze had made playing music look so easy, her movements had been so fluid and seamless. The idea that she had learned to instinctively understand where and how to draw the bow along the strings was more than otherworldly to him, it appeared completely divine. His instrument had buttons, simple things to press, that surely meant it was an easier sort to learn. Why was it so hard? He'd been working at it for almost ten days!

Letting the instrument fall to his lap, he ran his hands through his quills. He wasn't remotely close to where he wanted to be; he couldn't get through one song, let alone the one he planned to play for her. Blaze had a preference for classical music, but only one such song had seemed remotely within his reach; canon in D, whatever that meant. He didn't think it was a great name for a song, but the book he'd found it in stated it was from the seventeenth century; that certainly meant it was old enough to be classical. At the same time though… it seemed so much harder than everything he'd done so far.

Recalling something, the hedgehog pulled his hands from his head and looked down at them. Quickly, he slipped the glove from his right hand and looked down at it. Manual dexterity was supposedly important in the world of the past. The hedgehog had scarcely ever written, he'd not had the need to, and he certainly hadn't used his hands for anything so delicate as music. His psychic powers meant he'd rarely use his hands whenever anything remotely intense required grip.

And yet, his hand was callused and marked with cuts. It was symptomatic of his work in the future; even though his hands weren't often used for tough tasks, falls and struggles were an inevitability. There was a line that ran along the crease near the middle of his palm, from where a giant robot had once launched him through a window. Another, small and white, was halfway up his thumb; a result of catching a blade wielded by a mechanical tyrant much too late. His fingertips were callused too, the result of either his reactions being too slow in catching something with his psychokinesis or the struggle to push something with that power lead to him making contact and bolstering the effort with his own might.

His left glove came off, the hand beneath it was in a slightly better state but not by much; the cuts were different, but the calluses were the same. The psychic light shining at the centre of his palm itself offered a temptation, now more palpable as he could see it more clearly. Unpractised as he was with his fingers, his powers were another matter; intricate manoeuvres such as picking locks were child's play with his ability. Hammering a series of buttons in sequence would prove no problem at all, but that would defeat the point of this whole effort.

Blaze had learned an instrument without the backing of her powers, that magnificent skill had to be the result of endless effort to learn and yet it was a skill she still hid from the world. It was just like her power, something so core to the feline yet she plainly struggled to share. Years of practice had led to the former being more openly shown, years of his encouragement and, according to her, him using his power so casually had bolstered her confidence. For this though, he had to rise to meet her; that was how it'd worked last time, he'd had to show they were the same and it was all ok.

He'd recalled that Blaze hadn't worn her gloves when she played, though she had admittedly been in her evening garb rather than her usual attire. Perhaps some sort of difference lay there though, in her hands? Hers were so dainty, not without injury but very almost. Perhaps it was just the difference between their practice with their hands? The pyrokinetic's handwriting was so neat, the cursive connections between each letter had confused him at first but soon it had clicked. It looked so dainty and neat; he couldn't imagine ever reaching the point of matching it…

The sight of a bluebird in his peripheral vison, freshly landed in the canopy opposite him, served to remind the hedgehog of the time he was wasting. Blaze's meeting couldn't go on for too much longer and she had already caught him spending time out here once. If he was late, she'd know where to start looking. Rising to his feet, the hedgehog heaved another deep breath and puffed out his cheeks.

Removing his gloves hadn't fully alleviated the lagging of his fingertips, but the movement felt far more fluid and tactile. Maybe it was because he could feel the slightly rusted metal better, the pressure it took to push down each lever and the push back of their release. He wandered away from the tree and into the centre of the space, trying to use multiple parts of his brain and keep up momentum.

He'd never actually heard over the rainbow, but something about the way the notes were catching his ear felt so much clearer this time. Even after he snuck a breath between notes, it all still seemed to flow so naturally. He knew it was supposedly a simple song, labelled as being for beginners, but the success was exhilarating. So exhilarating in fact that he then proceeded to flub the next three notes and spin into a small panic before managing to briefly rekindle the magic.

Around halfway through the song his steam ran out, but a smile stuck to his lips… which was perhaps the cause of his failure, lip control was apparently important. He couldn't help but hover just a little, fist pumping. Sure, it was a small step, but it was a step in the right direction!

His success however was shortly celebrated, as a voice cut through the quiet in his playing's wake, "Silver?"

The hedgehog's heart skipped a beat, there was no mistaking that voice. She'd shouted to be heard, but did that mean she'd heard him? Her call had sounded far off, but not too far off; she was probably around the orchard's entrance. Either way, that meant he'd be in eyeshot any second now!

Panicking, the hedgehog went through the half dozen options. He could flee, he could fly off into the sky, but if he was seen that'd warrant a much greater explanation. Hiding was just asking for failure; he wasn't exactly inconspicuous against the lush summer greenery of the orchard. If it was winter and the snow was thick enough then he might have stood a chance, but reality was starkly opposed to that.

In his panic, he creeped three steps backward only to be spooked into as he collided with the tree he'd left mere moments ago. The surprise induced a juggle, he very almost dropped his flute. No matter what, hiding that instrument was his priority first and foremost! Silver pinned himself back against the tree, sandwiching the flute between his frame and the wood, holding it in place with his right hand.

His eyes darted franticly but he wasn't even in so much as a clearing, he'd just picked a spot on the path through the woods and decided the ambiance was right. Now the birds had left him behind, the trees were acting more as obstacles to his path than obscuring his form and the bluebells (despite how very pretty they were) offered no advice on how to evade his best friend. He couldn't let her know about this, not while he was still so inept! It wasn't like she'd insist on listening to his playing, but he wanted it to be a surp-

"There you are," His eyes were torn away from the patch of flowers he'd been mentally pleading for help and toward the entrance to the forest.

"Hey Blaze," He managed to grin, feeling the heavy sweat on his brow.

She walked over so very casually, not another word having slipped from her lips. The guardian was dressed in her usual gown and tights, her hair pulled up into its typical ponytail. Everything was so very typical, so regular for them, and that was exactly what was putting him on edge. There was just one abnormality, one tiny detail just out of place as she closed the distance; the borderline hypnotic way her tail was twisting behind her. Well, that and just how close she was getting before- The sound of her hand striking the wood to his right drew their gazes to lock. All of a sudden, she'd stepped and leaned in so very close, putting herself almost chest to chest with him. Her eyes were alight, her piercing amber gaze was cutting through his shocked expression as if she could read his mind. The difference between their heights, despite her heels, was making this all the more surreal; he was almost a head taller than her, yet she had cornered him. He felt the flute press between his spines as he was made to lean back, the roughness of the bark was just enough to be uncomfortable but far from being painful.

"Silver," Her voice was low and husky, something about her tone was a degree more serious than even that she used in meetings, "That's twice you've made me come looking for you."

She wasn't fully pinning him in place, if he'd wanted to move then he could slide right, but the harshness of her gaze was making him sweat. If she was serious, actually fully serious, then Silver knew this wasn't the tone she'd use or how she'd act. This was her teasing, she was just having fun, but in both of those goals she was plainly succeeding!

"S-Sorry, I was just," His mouth dry, as lacking in moisture as it was words, "Um," A cough caught his throat, "Birdwatching mostly?"

"Mostly?" She repeated, arching a brow.

Though the feline wasn't smiling, the light in her eye proved she was enjoying this game. Just how much did she know?! Had she just overheard that last song? Or had she waited and heard his less successful renditions.

"There are some pretty flowers too," He managed to report.

"So it would seem," She glanced down, seeming to briefly clock the patch of bluebells to his right before returning to him, "So you've just been out here nature watching?"

"Yeah," He croaked, the feline still dominated the totality of his vision, but he couldn't bring himself to keeping locking eyes with her.

It was only then that he realised, in looking down at the flowers she'd undoubtedly noticed his right arm was pinned behind his back. Well, that was assuming she hadn't before… which, in hindsight, she almost certainly had. Then again, if she hadn't heard him playing, she wouldn't know what exactly he was hiding.

"Well, that sounds like you," She conceded, "It's not a bad spot, but haven't you been here a few dozen times?"

"W-Well, yeah," The hedgehog repeated, feeling the dryness of his mouth, "It's just a good spot. Even though the birds aren't nesting they're sort of," He scrambled for some sort of explanation, "Used to being around here? That's why it's one of my favourite spots."

"I see," Blaze hummed, so very casually, "Strange you haven't mentioned that before."

"H-Haven't I?" This interrogation was draining the life from him, he felt like he could faint any second.

The pyrokinetic shook her head, smugness still radiated despite her typical stern expression, "Not once."

"Maybe we should have a picnic here some time?" He practically wheezed.

"I'd like that," Finally, as if finally noticing his state, she stood up straight and freed him from the semi-pinned position, "Are you done out here?

"I think so, we can head back," He attempted to loosen his stance but was forced to keep his right hand pinned behind his back, "Most of the birds cleared out a few minutes ago, I just sort of lost track of time."

"Were any of them interesting?" She dusted off her gloves, casting little flakes of bark to the ground. Meanwhile he just stood there, his brain misfiring as he tried to fake normalcy, "The birds?"

"Oh, not really? Just the usual blue birds and crows," That was too little, he needed more of an explanation, "Most of the chicks have grown up I think, didn't see any active nests."

"I heard the prettiest call when I was looking for you, I wonder what could have made it…" With that, and not another word, the princess turned.

She'd started walking away, expecting him to follow her back to the palace, but he'd frozen in his tracks. Her last taunt was loaded with implication and had left him at a crossroads. Likely more than intentionally, she'd put him in the best position he could ask for; he could safely stash his instrument under a tree and pick it up tomorrow, play along with her strange bird claim and keep up the ruse, even if she maybe knew. Perhaps the surprise would be downgraded to when he chose to reveal his efforts and their nature, rather than the specifics, but there could still be a surprise.

He felt the metal in his bare hand as he bent down to reclaim his gloves. As long as she had the lead, as long as she had momentum, the teasing would continue. He was fine with that, embarrassing as it was, seeing her make strides she couldn't have years ago never failed to electrify him. But he could feel his heart beating in his throat, there was something buzzing in his head. Just as she'd given him a way out, she'd put the ball in his court and given him an opportunity to act. If she did know, was there really any reason to keep this up?

"I wasn't just out here watching birds," She stopped and turned, a half dozen steps away, as he held out the ancient instrument, "I was practicing with this."

Finally, her seriousness broke. A smirk grew on her muzzle, strong enough to stagger him, and her tail resumed its rapid waving. There was something even more cunning and smug about that look; it was somehow just as powerful as when she'd pinned him against the tree and twice as flustering.

"I know you were, Silver," She bluntly replied, striding back toward him, "I was just teasing to test if you'd tell me yourself. You were being so secretive about it, but I didn't want to burst your bubble."

Embarrassment flushed across his face, "D-Did you hear me yesterday?"

"I've known you were up to something the moment you arrived here, well before you set off to inform the other world," She informed him, gently taking the flute, "You weren't exactly subtle about hiding that you'd brought something back, though what that something was did elude me for a day or two."

"I-I wasn't?" He stammered, just letting her claim it.

"You wouldn't let anyone look through your bag, Usually, we sort through that mess together, but this time you made sure to do it alone," She talked him through her deductive process, "From there, it was just a matter of paying attention. Every so often I'd catch the sound of music on the wind or see a flash of metal."

His right hand found his quill, brushing through them didn't remove the heat from his cheeks but it served as a distraction, "It was that easy?"

Her expression softened, "It's not as though either of us are especially good at lying to the other," She took a pause, letting that sink in, before continuing, "I'm a little surprised that you picked the flute of all instruments, it's not an easy one to pick up. People typically start off playing the recorder and transition once they're more confident."

"It was the first instrument I found," He admitted, putting a wrinkle through her grin as she plainly tried to suppress her laugh, "I sort of took that as a sign that it's the right one to learn?"

"You didn't pick it based on wanting to play a particular song?" She seemed to have just noticed the scuffed nature of the instrument, brushing her fingers along its keys.

"I only picked up an instrument at all because of you," He truthfully answered, "I thought that if I got comfortable playing an instrument, then you would be more comfortable too. That way I'd get to watch you play more."

"Your so naïve," She tutted, looking up from the flute, "Just because I only play in private doesn't mean it's some sort of secret," That truth surprised Silver almost as much as the next, her head turned away, "The only person I'm actually shy about playing around is you."

"What, wh-why?" He stepped in closer out of panic, leaning down to her, "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you've not…" Blaze seemed to immediately question her word choice, "Remember that night you arrived at my window? How you sat on my bed, watching and listening as I played?"

"That was the inspiration for me picking up the instrument," Silver recalled aloud, "I'd heard you play before but watching you then, hearing and seeing it, made me want others to experience it," His fingers hitched on her shoulders, "You were incredible Blaze."

"You don't need to say that for me to know you felt it," Even before she said that, he'd felt heat prickle across her shoulders, "Just like I knew how it'd be when you finally watched me play. You stared up at me so wide eyed, so excited and enthralled. It was impossible to keep my eyes on you even though I wanted to," When a beat of silence filled the air, just for a moment while he processed, she spoke up again, "It was the worst I'd played in years."

"R-Really? But you sounded great!" He insisted, "I loved listening to you Bl-

Her finger was suddenly upon his lips, now Blaze was the one avoiding his gaze, "I know you did, and I probably didn't sound as bad as I think I did, but that's besides the point. There's a difference between me playing and you maybe hearing three doors down, or on the other side of a curtained window, and me actually playing for you."

He paused for half a second as her finger left his lips, waiting until their eyes locked again, "What's the difference? Just that you know I'm there?"

"That's exactly the difference. It's foolish, but seeing you look up at me like that is just so…" Their gaze broke again, "It's a unique experience certainly. I'm used to attention but feeling it then and from you is just so distracting."

"It's not a bad feeling, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer was likely no.

"No, not bad just…" Again, she seemed to search for the right words, "We've danced around these feelings before, I'm sure you've felt the sort. Like when I pinned you a few moments ago."

That made her status more than clear and remounted the sweat on his forehead just as it sent a fresh wave of heat from her shoulders. The dance around their feelings was a shuffle they'd been performing for years now to varying degrees of success. They'd kissed before yes, but no hard confirmation or serious conversation had ever followed. Blaze's royal status had seen to it that they always returned to an awkward mid-ground, the sort they were presently in.

He would have asked if he could listen to her play if he simply didn't look, but he knew the truth was that he wouldn't be able to stop himself. The idea of sitting there with his eyes locked to the carpet, her desk or her bookshelf while she was there, unleashing her skill so bluntly, was a fool's dream. He was a fool yes, but it was a fantasy just too far.

An alternative option did however float into his mind, "Well, I can't really play very well yet but," He dropped his right hand to the flue, keeping his left on her shoulder, "If we played something together, then maybe I wouldn't be so distracting," A more selfish thought sparked in his mind, "That and, maybe if we play together, you'll get more used to it?"

She didn't look convinced, not initially at least, but as their eyes came to lock again, she released his instrument, "Well, I suppose we'll only know if we try," As Blaze conceded, that cunning light having re-entered her eyes, "And I suppose that means you'll have to practice some more yourself before you'll get to see me play again. After all, you'll need to keep pace with me."

He felt his quills fan in surprise at her final taunt, "W-Well, maybe I could listen just one more time for insper-

"Come on, I've got some music theory books in my room and, I'm sure there'll be some old book specifically for flutes in the library," She had already turned again, leading for him to follow, "Speaking of old things, perhaps I'll source a less broken flute before the week's end. Two centuries without maintenance is perhaps a little too long."

Stumbling over himself, the psychic chased after the pyrokinetic. While he'd set out with one goal in mind, to inspire her, another had been pushed to the forefront. It was the same as things always went; no matter what, they worked together when it came to their goals. How hard could learning the flute when contrasted against saving the future? Well, neither were harder than tearing his attention away from her.

#silvaze #Silver the Hedgehog #Blaze the Cat #silver #blaze #sonic the hedgehog #Sonic Rush #fanfic

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gumnut-logic · 3 years ago

Text

The Painting

This was started from a challenge I stumbled across what seems like ages ago.

The word was ‘blushing’ and can be found in a prompt list from @creativepromptsforwriting - here.

But anyway, have over 3000 words of frustrated Virgil, worried Scott and concerns over the possibility of Virgil/Kayo.

Warnings: Yep, this is the Virgil/Kayo fic I was babbling on about a while back. Not Warm Rain, but completely new.

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

Virgil Tracy was a seasoned emergency responder. Scott had seen him rescue people in front of entire crowds, seen him speak to police, and even the press. Hell, there was the time Scott had been caught up on the other side of the planet and Virgil had rescued the President of the United States, for crying out loud. It was on film, recorded for history and no doubt would end up in their future grandchildren’s school textbooks.

At no point had his brother ever looked fazed at any of the PR tasks required of him.

Sure, he wasn’t as smooth at it as Scott and if he had a choice, he would avoid it and handball it off to his big brother. But that was more a case of Virgil thinking he had better things to do.

He’d refused the award offered by the President for that reason. Saw no need for accolades for just doing his job - Scott had tried to talk him into that one, but no, Virgil just didn’t seem to care.

So there was no warning, no real indicator that this was going to happen.

Looking back with the benefit of hindsight, Scott had to admit that perhaps that was a lie.

Virgil had been edgy from the first mention of this project. It was Penny’s fault, of course, but it was Gordon who had egged her on when Virgil said no initially.

Penny had succeeded with John in the past, so why not tackle another Tracy brother? And it wasn’t like Virgil was socially shy like their astronaut. The man had stripped naked and posed for life drawing classes on multiple occasions and as previously noted, had no trouble with the PR tasks required of him.

Virgil was the cool, calm and sensible Tracy brother.

Who was now standing in front of the podium bright red and frozen solid as holocam lights buzzed about him.

The press was a mass of voices they hadn’t really expected on opening night, and had Kayo in a furious mood, her satin green dress spinning as she strode over to possibly throttle one of her security contingent. He must keep an eye on that.

Virgil had only meant to welcome everyone to the gallery with a short speech, but the questions about his artworks had begun firing the moment he stood up there and apparently displaying his art was not as easy as Scott thought it would be.

He regretted encouraging this exhibition when he had known Virgil hadn’t been confident. But he had thought it was just nerves and his brother had only needed a little push.

He would never have thought Virgil could freeze like that.

Scott stepped up to the podium beside his arty brother. Virgil blinked at him, more fear in his eyes than Scott had seen since the time Scott had fallen into an ice crevasse and his heavy lifting brother had jumped in after him, only barely managing to grab him before certain death.

Apparently, Virgil needed saving this time.

Scott eyed the crowd and in particular the person responsible for the question.

His eyes narrowed in on Kat Kavanaugh. He let out a breath. “Now, now, Kat, when I said you could ask questions, that did not include my brothers’ sex lives.”

Kat smirked up at him. “Fair’s fair, Scott Tracy. He did paint that, after all.” She gestured towards the most popular painting in the gallery. There had been an argument earlier over who could purchase it. An informal auction managed by Penny had sprouted up and the sum it finally went for would fund Tracy Industries’ charity line for some time to come.

Virgil’s eyes had been saucer-wide at that news.

But the painting itself was a mystery. Scott had no idea what it represented other than it was all flesh coloured curves, greens, reds, blues and greys. It obviously meant something to Virgil, but it might as well have been spilt paint to Scott with the minor exception of maybe one eye and a flower. He much preferred the aerial dogfight painting he had nabbed off his brother before he could assign it to the exhibition - Virgil frowned at him and squawked a bunch of art jargon that translated as ‘Virgil hated it’. But Scott liked it and had hung it in his rooms.

Virgil glared at it every time he saw it.

But this one, this Picasso jigsaw puzzle, meant something to Virgil. Yet for some reason he had thrown it into the exhibition anyway.

And now it meant something to a bunch of people? It had prompted so many questions, most inappropriate, and now looking at it Scott could see vaguely where they were coming from, but really?

But Virgil had flushed red and frozen, giving credit to the question of who had broken his heart.

Scott hadn’t noticed anything. Virgil had never brought the topic up.

And this was definitely not the place.

“This is an art exhibition, Ms Kavanaugh. Please keep your question to the subject at hand.”

“I could argue that what is on these walls is exactly the subject at hand, Mr Tracy. Your brother has painted with his heart and now it is up for sale.”

The whole gallery fell completely silent as the centre of Scott’s cardiovascular system fell into his boots.

When he didn’t answer immediately, she took it upon herself to fill the silence. “In fact, one of the biggest questions on everyone’s lips is why only one out of four of the most eligible bachelors on the planet has a romantic interest. These paintings prove he is not alone, but apparently Virgil is not as lucky.”

Scott stared at her. it would have helped if he knew what she was talking about. Virgil hadn’t mentioned anything...

Scott held back the urge to look at his brother and instead bore a hole into Kat Kavanaugh’s head with his glare. “I repeat, my brother’s personal lives are not up for discussion.” Holocams stared at him.

“And what about yours, Mr Tracy? Are you still dating that pilot?”

“You know what? This is an art exhibition to raise money for victims of disaster, for the people International Rescue couldn’t save. How about you focus on that.” She opened her mouth again. “Because if you don’t, I will have you and anyone else inclined to discuss our private business, escorted from the building.” He put every ounce of commander he had into his words.

She stopped talking, but the smirk on her face that replaced her vocalisations set Scott’s blood boiling anyway.

He clamped down on the emotion. “Now, regarding the artworks. All of them are painted by my talented brother Virgil, as you know. He has kindly donated them to raise money for those affected by disaster. So, please reach into your pockets and donate for those who need it most. Thank you.”

He turned away from the podium as the silence dissolved into chatter, mostly likely with nothing to do with artworks at all.

Finally he was able to catch Virgil’s eye and non-verbally direct him to follow.

The acquiescence in Virgil’s expression hurt Scott even more.

He led his artistic brother past a concerned-looking Gordon who was helping Penelope manage the crowd.

Alan was frowning fit to burst a blood vessel, but Gordon grabbed him and pulled him away.

John knew enough to only catch Scott’s eye with an expression of ‘here if you need me’ as he stood off to one side talking to Brains. The fact both were half-hidden by a promotional banner was no doubt no error on their part.

Both had declared they would attend in support of Virgil. Didn’t mean they had to like it.

Scott pulled Virgil into a backroom, shut the door and turned to face his brother.

Virgil was looking down at his hands.

“I know I’m clueless on the art front, but apparently the crowd out there isn’t. Is there something you haven’t told me?” He drew in a breath in an attempt to calm himself.

Virgil glanced up at him with such sadness in his eyes, Scott’s widened and he put both hands on his brother’s shoulders. “What is it?”

It was Virgil’s turn to let out a sigh. It appeared to come from somewhere ever so deep as it visibly deflated him. “It was nothing.” And he looked away.

“Doesn’t look like ‘nothing’.” He squeezed those hunched shoulders gently. A nudge of his head in the direction of the crowd outside the door. “They don’t think it is ‘nothing’.”

Virgil looked up. “Well, it is nothing. That’s why that painting is out there. Nothing has happened. Nothing is going to happen.”

“But you wanted something to happen?” It was like bobbing for apples, but painful. He had never seen Virgil so unsure of himself. “Can I ask who?”

Virgil opened his mouth, but closed it before he could say anything.

Scott hesitated. “You know you can tell me anything. That I’m here for you.”

Again Virgil opened his mouth, but again something stopped him from saying anything. He only nodded, blinking.

Scott’s heart lurched. What couldn’t Virgil tell him? They shared everything. How could his brother been hurting this much and Scott not know anything about it?

But then did he know?

He scoured his memory for indicators.

Virgil straightened suddenly. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing is going to happen. That...that ship has sailed.”

Who had Virgil fixated on? He ran through their list of friends, acquaintances and came up blank regarding any extra regard his brother might have shown anyone.

Of course, Virgil was kind to everyone they knew, polite beyond reason sometimes, well known for putting others above himself.

Hell, just last week he had flown Kayo halfway across the planet in Tracy Two while he was supposed to be on vacation and resting. Shadow was out of commission at the time and Kayo needed to be in London with Penelope and Rigby. She had protested, but even Scott knew Virgil had a soft spot for his sister and would do...anything for her.

He stared at his brother.

No...really?

Scott blinked as his brain pulled up all the most obvious indicators. Virgil always hovered when their sister was in action. Scott knew he hated it. It was one of the reasons Scott reprimanded Kayo for straying beyond IR’s mandate. The family worried about her, but, in particular, Virgil fretted when his...sister...was in danger.

Aw, hell. Looking back, it was now obvious. Damn, how had he missed it?

Again, Virgil cared for everyone, it was in his nature.

Shit.

Scott must have let something of his thoughts into his expression because Virgil looked up at him and his eyes widened. “Scott-“

“It’s Kayo, isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question.

“No, I...no, it’s nothing...I-“ Virgil was obviously scrambling to deny everything.

“She’s a good choice.”

Virgil froze, staring at him.

“What are you afraid of?”

Virgil spun out of his grip and turned away. “It doesn’t matter what I think. She’s not interested.”

“How do you know?”

Brown, hurting eyes glared at him. “What? You haven’t noticed Captain Wayne Rigby?”

Scott blinked. The GDF officer was definitely on his radar, but more on a professional level, IR Commander to GDF representative. He frowned as he assessed what he had seen of the man’s conduct towards Kayo, his big brother priorities coming into play.

Sure, he could look at their relationship that way. Kayo didn’t seem to mind spending time with the man, but only as the mission required?

That question mark only emphasised the fact he needed to spend more time with his family where an emergency situation was not involved. He was clearly out of the loop on too many things.

Virgil wandered over to a lounge in the corner and sat down, his suit immediately rumpling as he dropped his head into his hands.

Scott shoved his own failures in this matter to one side and tackled the immediate issue - his upset brother.

“Have you spoken to her?”

The strangled scoff of a laugh was muffled by his brother’s hands.

Scott took that as a ‘no’.

“Why not?”

That at least got Virgil looking at him again. “Oh, sure, It comes up in conversation all the time. ‘Hi, Kayo, great to see you. By the way, I’ve fallen in love with you. Is that okay?’” His brother’s eyebrows crushed together and he looked down, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It could destroy so much.”

“I really think she would love you either way, Virgil.” And he was back to scouring his brain for indications of Kayo returning Virgil’s regard.

“What? You don’t find it weird that I’m in love with my sister? It’s a breach of trust.”

“Virgil, she grew up with us. She is a beautiful, smart woman. No one could be faulted for finding her attractive. Hell, I will admit that I can see why you would be interested.”

That had Virgil staring at him again.

Scott held up his hands. “Hey, I’m happy with pilot lady.”

That stare boggled a bit. “‘Pilot lady?’ Don’t you even know her name?”

“Thank you for giving me zero credit. Of course I know her name. She just likes me calling her ‘pilot lady’.” Scott grinned strategically.

“Oh god, TMI. Ugh.”

Scott chuckled as his brother groaned. Mostly because he was happy to have achieved his target of lightening Virgil’s mood at least a little.

“You should talk to her.”

“Why? She’s obviously gone on Rigby.” The name was said with as close to a snarl as Scott had ever heard his brother make outside of a rescue. “You want me to ruin what relationship we already have trying to pursue something she doesn’t want?”

“How do you know that?” He stepped closer to his brother. “You haven’t given her a chance.”

“She’s known me for years.”

“I’ve known you since you were born and I didn’t know you had a thing for her. How the hell do you expect her to know?”

Virgil leapt off the couch. “I don’t want her to know!”

“Why not?”

“Because...”

“Because you could get hurt? I never figured you were one for backing away because of that. I’ve seen you risk death to save lives, including mine. Why deny yourself the chance for happiness? Her the chance?”

“Because I love her too much to ruin it!” Scott’s eyes widened as Virgil literally exploded in front of him. “How could our relationship recover from that? How could she bear to look at me if she didn’t...care for me the same way in return? How could I? No, she likes Rigby. She will be happy with him. That’s it. The boat has sailed. And I wish I had burnt that damned painting.”

Scott swallowed. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

Virgil’s derisive scoff said everything. “I’ve got to get back out there before they start thinking I’m ready to kill myself due to unrequited love.” He strode towards the door.

“Virgil-“

His brother held up a hand. “I’m fine. I’ll handle it. Just let me get through the night so I can go home.” And with that, he threw open the door and stormed out into the noise.

Damn. Scott thumbed his collar. “Gordon?”

“Yes, oh great leader?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Run interference for Virgil, please.”

“FAB.”

Gordon and Penelope would do what was necessary to get the press off Virgil’s back. Scott sighed as he strode towards the door Virgil had almost slammed behind him and threw himself out into the crowd after his brother.

-o-o-o-

Cartwheels across the gallery floor hadn’t quite been what Scott had in mind, but if he was honest with himself, it worked. Gordon already had a reputation of being the ‘fun’ Tracy and the press ate it up.

The fact Gordon could do a backflip midair and land on his feet wasn’t really that surprising to Scott, but the media loved it. The reports switched from lovelorn Virgil to crazy Gordon and that was pretty much that.

Penelope was ever so tolerant.

Scott didn’t let Virgil out of his sight the rest of the night. His artistic brother put up a great front and only the fact Scott was his big brother allowed him to see that touch of hesitancy in his handshakes and the fakery of his smiles.

What Scott did do was surreptitiously get a good look at the painting responsible for this mess.

It was a Picasso-esque mishmash of flesh, colour and bone. On one hand it could be considered creepy, but there was something about that one single green eye staring out from its midst that said something. Something painful.

The white daisy in the bottom left corner was a familiar motif in Virgil’s paintings. Mom’s favourite flower often turned up when his brother dove deep into his art. But that eye...

Realisation set in like a lightning strike. It was Kayo’s eye. The only part of the painting recognisable, if only for its colour and intensity. Like Kat had said, all the pieces fell into place once that eye belonged to someone. The painting screamed desolation and loneliness.

Aw, hell.

Virgil was on the far side of the room glaring at Gordon, most likely for the acrobatics. The media were still babbling beyond the security Kayo had deployed. Scott had no doubt Virgil knew exactly what Gordon was doing, but that wouldn’t stop the lecture.

Scott owed Gordon for this one.

“Permission to expel the media?”

Scott jumped. Kayo had appeared out of nowhere.

Her smile was an amused one.

He glared at her momentarily before letting his shoulders drop. “I wish.”

“How is Virgil?”

His gaze flickered to her, abruptly realising his brother’s secret was now his to conceal as well. “Getting there. You know how sensitive he is about his art.” That’s it, cover it up with artistic sensibility.

She arched an eyebrow. “I was surprised he consented to the exhibition.”

“Me, too. But Penelope pulled out the charity big guns and you know how Virgil just wants to help people...”

Kayo smiled. “Genetic trait.”

His grunt was non-committal.

“Well, it certainly has been a successful exercise. I think just about everything has been sold, even beyond the star of the exhibition.” She gestured at the painting responsible for so much.

Scott swallowed. “Yeah, Penelope will be happy.”

“What about Virgil?”

“Yeah, he’ll be happy, too. He’s helping a lot a of people.” Scott mentally considered whether whisky on the balcony and some one-on-one commiseration time might help his brother relax.

“Oh, you should know that while you were talking to Virgil earlier, I had to remove Kat Kavanaugh from the building.”

Scott blinked, suddenly realising the absence of the woman. It was a sign of his distraction that he hadn’t realised she was missing. “Why?”

Kayo’s lips twisted. “Well, aside from harassing Virgil,” she said it with gritted teeth and obviously hidden expletives, “I caught her eavesdropping on your conversation, outside the door.”

He straightened in alarm.

“Don’t worry, I nabbed her before she could discover anything...important.”

Scott stared at her.

“She and I had some...polite words, and I doubt we will be seeing her again.”

“Kayo-“

Green flickered up at him. “Just doing my job, Scott.” She lent in a little closer. “You don’t have to worry.”

“I...”

But Kayo smiled. “So can I expel the rest of them? I think they’ve had a fair enough go, don’t you?”

Another blink and he nodded.

Her hand brushed his arm and squeezed ever so gently. “Don’t worry. Everything is under control.”

Didn’t feel that way. Across the room Virgil was gesticulating wildly at their fish brother, very adamant about something.

“Kayo?” She looked up at him. “Take it easy.”

Her lips curled into a small smile. “FAB.”

She walked into the crowd, green dress sparkling in the lights, as she spoke into her comms and gestured to her team. He was left wondering what the hell had happened, what she knew and what she was going to do.

But then the feeling was familiar around his sister, so he shouldn’t be surprised.

Gordon stopped their engineer brother’s tirade by grabbing him into a hug mid-rant.

A perfect tactic to derail Virgil that had worked many a time before.

As predicted, their brother couldn’t resist and gruffly returned Gordon’s embrace.

The fish certainly had his ways.

The crowd volume increased as reporters started protesting security herding them out of the building. He watched as his sister worked, her team as smooth and as capable as she.

And then he watched Virgil watching her, too.

Scott grabbed a champagne flute off a nearby server and sculled it. Whisky on the balcony was looking more attractive by the moment.

He needed one.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #kayo kyrano #Gordon Tracy #Penelope Creighton Ward #virgil/kayo #gordon/penelope #Pen and Ink #nuttyfic #creativepromptsforwriting

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ibijau · 3 years ago

Text

A Little Help pt3 / On AO3

A third secret meeting between Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen

Nie Huaisang barely made it out of the Unclean Realm this time. In truth, he would have preferred not to leave at all. Distance hadn’t been such an obstacle thus far after all. Lan Xichen, after some hesitation, had agreed to send the score for Cleansing to Nie Huaisang, along with detailed written instruction on how to play it.

Nie Huaisang had taken it as another proof that Lan Xichen could be impossibly naive for a man this clever. It would have been so easy to sell the score of that song to interested party. Certainly, Su Minshan would have paid a real fortune to get his hands on that. Not that Nie Huaisang would ever have traded with someone as slimy as Su She, but he could have, and Lan Xichen shouldn’t have trusted him so easily.

Then again, they’d had no other choice. Nie Mingjue had barely accepted the excuse his brother had given for leaving without permission last time, and Nie Huaisang hadn’t been sure he could have gotten away with it again. He had hated admitting that to Lan Xichen, but Lan Xichen had been very kind in his reply, reminding him that this was only the result of a deep imbalance, that Nie Mingjue loved him and trusted him. And Lan Xichen was right of course, but lately it was a little too easy to forget that.

Lately, Nie Huaisang had become scared of his brother, the way he’d once become scared of their father.

For the past two months, Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen had only communicated through letters and hidden messages, taking ever increasing precautions not to be discovered. Nie Mingjue would have had a fit if he’d learned his brother was conspiring against him, and Lan Xichen remained worried his brother would be harmed if he was discovered to have gone against the Lans’ council of elders. But there was only so far their plan could go without meeting in person again, and Nie Huaisang was forced to eventually agree to meet again, at that same spot as before.

As before, Lan Xichen was waiting for him, wearing a robe of blue so dark it almost looked black. The colour suited him well, better in fact than the usual white of his sect which washed him out. Not that Nie Huaisang had time to spare on such frivolities, not this time.

After the briefest of greetings, Lan Xichen asked to hear the progress he’d made regarding Cleansing, and Nie Huaisang was only too happy to oblige. Time, more than on their previous meetings, was of the essence.

Nervous as he was, Nie Huaisang did his best to play the song appropriately. He paid attention to each note, infusing them with what little spiritual energy he could offer at every key moment, making sure to play at exactly the right speed. It was strenuous work to play that song, but the thought of his brother’s health had pushed him to put more effort into this than he ever had in anything.

By the time he finished playing the song, Nie Huaisang felt a little weak, and his head was spinning. Thankfully Lan Xichen was sitting right next to him, and Nie Huaisang was able to lean against his side to rest a moment.

“You did very well,” Lan Xichen said, briefly wrapping one arm around Nie Huaisang’s shoulders before quickly removing it, afraid perhaps to act improperly, even when there was no one to see them. “I think you only need a little more practice and you’ll be ready to play it.”

“How soon?” Nie Huaisang asked, pulling away from the other man. “A week? Two? I’ll practice until my fingers bleed, and you can fight off your elders, and…”

Lan Xichen frowned. “Huaisang, it’s not that simple.”

“But I don’t know if I have more time. We need to act soon!” Nie Huaisang urged, grasping Lan Xichen’s hand. “Da-ge is… he’s been like this too long, and he’s really not getting better on his own. I think he’s even getting worse.”

It had been Lan Xichen’s theory that without the corrupted song played to him so regularly, Nie Mingjue might start recovering on his own, without the need for more Lan songs. Nie Huaisang had thought that was more likely than himself ever mastering a complex piece of magic in a matter of mere weeks.

Hope was a bitch.

“I’ve heard he’s become… quite aggressive toward small sects that are taking the Jins’ side,” Lan Xichen cautiously said.

Nie Huaisang miserably nodded, prompting Lan Xichen to gently squeeze his hand.

It had always been Nie Mingjue’s problem that he saw things in black and white, good or bad. That mentality used to be balanced out by his conviction that most people were honest, with only a few bad apples here and there.

Nie Mingjue didn’t believe that anymore.

“You have to do something,” Nie Huaisang said. “You have to make a statement, to let everyone know that da-ge isn’t crazy, that the Jins really did attack him! Otherwise he’ll just end up all alone, like…”

“Like the Wens?”

“More like Wei Wuxian,” Nie Huaisang whispered. He felt Lan Xichen shudder at his side, but refused to look at the other man and glared instead of the guqin before them. “Er-ge, you have to do something, you have to help, you have to!”

“They still have Wangji,” Lan Xichen replied. “I don’t dare… It would be so easy for the council to order his death. Not only that, but they could make the whole world applaud. Just one sentence from them, and even your brother would rejoice at Wangji’s execution. You as well, perhaps.”

"What could he have done to…"

"I trust you with almost anything, Huaisang,” Lan Xichen quietly said, taking both of the other man’s hands in his, his expression painfully earnest. “But this is not something I can tell you. Even telling you that Wangji's actions put such a threat on his life is too much, but it was the only way to show you I’m not… indifferent to the situation. I just don’t have a choice. You seek to save your brother, and I have to protect mine.”

A fair point, and yet Nie Huaisang grimaced. He simply couldn’t imagine what Lan Wangji, always a stickler for rules, could have done to deserve death. But with Lan Xichen holding his hands like that, it was impossible to ignore the wild beatings of his heart, as if he were truly terrified on his brother’s behalf. If Lan Xichen said that Lan Wangji was in such danger, it had to be true.

“What if… what if you sent him somewhere safe?” Nie Huaisang suggested. “I don’t know the situation, but if he just left, maybe…”

Lan Xichen’s hold on his hands tightened.

“Wangji is not currently in a state of health where it would be wise for him to wander the world or hide in wilderness,” Lan Xichen explained. “Not to mention…”

He hesitated, staring at Nie Huaisang as if searching for something on his face. “It is not just about Wangji,” Lan Xichen confessed. “He’s declared himself the protector of a young orphan he found somewhere. The council of elders has agreed to let this child reside safely within the Cloud Recesses, but only as long as Wangji behaves.”

That certainly complicated things, but it also made sense. It explained why Lan Wangji, in spite of having done some horrible deed that went against his sect’s morals, would remain with them. It could also have been the mere fact that Lan Wangji was definitely the sort of person who believed in rules even when they had negative consequences for himself… but few men kept that sort of belief when the consequences in question were their own death. While if there was a child…

“If your brother could be offered a safe house of sorts where to hide with that child until everything is under control again, would he accept?” Nie Huaisang asked.

“Perhaps, if I explained to him why I need him to disappear for a while,” Lan Xichen replied, a small crease forming on his brow. “But I’m not sure there’s anyone who would accept to hide him at the moment. Not when I’m almost certain the elders might reveal…”

“Er-ge, let me make you a promise,” Nie Huaisang said, gently squeezing the other man’s hands. “Because you see, I own a house a little way out of Qinghe. My father bought it for my mother when they married, for when she needed to retire somewhere quiet, and when she died it went to me. It’s abandoned now, and in disrepair. It’s also quite isolated. So here is my promise: if you trust me enough to send Wangji there with that child of his, I won’t reveal he’s there, no matter what I learn about him. Whether he killed someone, or consorted with demons… even if he ate human flesh, even if he used evil ways to improve his cultivation… no matter what terrible people he associated with, or how inhumane his deeds… as long as he is inside my mother’s house, I will not tell a soul where he is, for your sake.”

And for his own sake as well, Nie Huaisang thought, knowing his brother and him desperately needed an ally, someone the cultivation world would not dismissed as biased against the Jin or touched by madness.

That little declaration had exactly the effect Nie Huaisang hoped for. Lan Xichen froze, his grasp on Nie Huaisang’s hands nearly painful. His face, so pale a moment before, took on a warmer hue visible even in this dark night, while his eyes shone as if he might cry. Before he could shed any tears, Lan Xichen let go of Nie Huaisang's hand so he could pull him into a crushing hug.

Nie Huaisang only hesitated only a moment before returning that hug. It was just a ploy to get Lan Xichen to finally act, nothing more, but he hadn't been hugged in so long, and it felt good to be held that way.

"Huaisang, I am so grateful that you would offer this," Lan Xichen whispered, sounding as if he might really start crying. "But I can't accept. It's too dangerous. If your brother found out, in his current state…"

Nie Huaisang pulled back, not quite breaking the hug, but enough to bring his hands to Lan Xichen's face, cupping his cheeks the way he'd seen some particularly besotted lovers do.

"You help me with my brother, I help you with yours," Nie Huaisang said with more earnestness than he'd planned. "We're in this together, so please trust me as much as I trust you."

Lan Xichen could only stare at him with an expression of such open affection that Nie Huaisang almost felt guilty for using it against him.

Guilt, surely, was the only reason he felt almost dizzy while held so closely, and gazed at with such tenderness, the explanation for his heart beating too fast.

Nie Huaisang felt guilty, but it was all to protect his brother. And it was also to protect his brother that he impulsively pressed his lips to Lan Xichen's.

If that didn't convince him to do what was right…

But it did the trick, just as planned. When they stopped kissing, too breathless to go on, Lan Xichen looked as if he would have gathered every star in the sky, should Nie Huaisang have asked for them.

"I will talk to Wangji," Lan Xichen promised. "I will convince him… I doubt he'll put up much resistance. He doesn't like that they're using little A-Yuan against him, and he'll like it even less when he find they're using him against me."

Nie Huaisang agreed, and gave a detailed explanation on how to find his mother's house, and described where he'd hidden some money there, in case if emergency. Nie Huaisang doubted that he would be able to go greet Lan Wangji for fear of attracting attention, but he could provide some help even from a distance.

"I am for ever in your debt, Huaisang," Lan Xichen said, stealing a quick kiss. "I swear I will repay it. I'll make sure everyone knows the truth about Jin Guangyao, I will force my sect to stand with da-ge. Just hold on a little longer."

"I trust you," Nie Huaisang replied, stealing a kiss as well. "And until da-ge can see again you are truly his friend, I'll keep practising your song. We're going to save him!"

"We are," Lan Xichen agreed.

He looked so happy as he said that, as if it truly mattered to him to help Nie Mingjue, and that in turn made Nie Huaisang’s heart race in his chest. He might forgive Lan Xichen for having sided a while with the wrong sworn brother, he thought. Lan Xichen was doing his best to correct his mistake after all, the way a true friend would do.

In fact, Nie Huaisang might have already more than half forgiven him.

Still, just to make sure Lan Xichen remembered he had much to gain by doing the right thing, Nie Huaisang kissed him again. Just for safety, he told himself. And the next kiss was to distract Lan Xichen so he wouldn't ask too many questions about Nie Mingjue's current state.

For the last kiss they shared, Nie Huaisang had no excuses. He had just felt unbearably scared as they both prepared to head home, and he'd wanted a last moment of warmth and tenderness before returning to the coldness and isolation of the Unclean Realm.

It might not have been his smartest decision to have lost time with that. Dawn was starting to colour the sky when Nie Huaisang finally reached home. Not that it mattered much, he told himself. The secret passage he used to get out was well out of the way. It also wouldn't surprise anyone if he slept later than strictly reasonable once he made it to his room. Or else if he was spotted inside the Unclean Realm, he'd just say he'd wanted to do a bit of bird-watching and got up early. That always worked.

What he didn't have was an easy explanation being discovered outside the Unclean Realm by his brother, just as he was about to enter that secret passage.

"I swear it’s not what you think," Nie Huaisang cried out, but the expression on his brother’s face only darkened.

This time, Nie Huaisang was in trouble.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #forbidden romance au #nhs: ahah lxc is so naive sometimes and way too trusting #also nhs: anyway time to put my full trust in him about everything ever

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twstdreams · 4 years ago

Note

Heya, how would the first years comfort MC who’s missing their family during the holidays? I’ll let you choose whether or not to do romantic or platonic headcannons. You can skip this ask if it’s too boring, I wouldn’t mind! Happy Holidays!

These are all platonic headcanons! 🥀

Ace Trappola

Ace isn’t exactly running back home to visit his family, but he does understand that at least he gets the choice to see them and he knows that they’re safe and sound. The same can’t be said for you

Before he heads home for the holidays, he suggests you guys do winter activity together! It’s not going to be the same as visiting your family, but time will pass by whether you spend it moping or hanging out, so you might as well have fun!

You can create a new tradition or do a spin on an old treasured tradition. In the end, he’ll let you choose but would prefer to do something more fun and active like tobogganing or snowball fight

He goes all out and he wants you to have a enough fun to plough through the holiday blues

By the end your cheeks are rosy from the cold, snow is sticking to your clothes, and you’re laughing away your worries

You end the day with hot cocoa and a warm heart

Deuce Spade

He invites you to spend the holidays at his home! His mom is everything to him so he knows how hard it must be on you. Deuce would be melancholic if he couldn’t visit his mom or even have any communication with her

His mom is sympathetic to your plight. She didn’t expect someone to come home with Deuce but gives her permission when she hears your circumstance

When you ask if you’re being too much of a burden, Deuce blurts out it’s okay because you’re his best friend! His cheeks are red and he stammered a bit, but Deuce means it!

He’s kind of nervous for you to meet his mom, it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, but you’re the first friend he’s brought home and he really wants you and his mom to get along.

When you visit, it’s a new dynamic. Not bad, but different. It’s always just been him and his mom, but now it’s the three of you. You have lots of fun exchanging stories with his mom and his face is the same colour as holly berries by the end!

But truthfully, his mom is happy to hear that Deuce is doing better and that he has a trustworthy friend like you. A little concerned with all the overblots but he’s back in one piece with nothing marring his academic record. You definitely get brownie points when you give her a gift for the holidays!

It’s a homely experience and even though you miss your own family, you’re grateful that this one has opened up to you this holiday. You’re no longer alone and it brings an undeniable sense of comfort

Epel Felmier

He suggests that you two bake or cook something together

Epel knows the power of homemade food that reminds you of home like the fresh apple juice from his hometown, grandma’s famous dish, your favourite food that always comes around during the holidays

He knows it’s not the same but Epel hopes that it brings some comfort

You guys create a little dinner together! You cook up a storm with Epel, making delicious dishes which merge your favourite foods together. There’s plentiful meat dishes, apple tarts, a dessert you’ve been craving, and a dish you always have before the year end make it onto the table

Not everything is picture perfect but the care put into everything is clear. You capture the moment anyway though you know it’s already in your heart

By the end of the meal, you two are stuffed and probably in risk of getting a lecture from Vil, but your stomach is full and the smile of your face is sincere

Jack Howl

Jack understands. His family is irreplaceable and you’ve been torn away from your family and entire world. His parents are always together and family bonds have a high importance, so he thinks it’d be odder if you weren’t sad

He suggests going out to do your favourite winter sport. He knows he can’t replace your family or open up a portal to your world but he wants to share something he enjoys with you. Plus exercise is always good for you and it might help distract you. At the very least, you’ll get some endorphins flowing.

Jack’s favourite is skiing, so he’s delighted if you agree to accompany him. Winter is the perfect time to take advantage of the cold weather. Down-hill skiing is a favourite, but if you want to explore the land with cross-country skiing, he has the stamina to accompany you with no issue

If you’re new to skiing, Jack guides you with ease. He helped teach his younger siblings, so he has lots of practice and knows what beginners struggle with. You might need to remind him that you do not have the amount of energy his siblings have though!

If you’re a more experienced skiier, he has fun going down the more high level hills with you and is open to a race if that’s what it takes to get a smile on your face

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek truly sympathizes with your plight. He would be devastated if he was in your place. Sebek cannot even imagine life with Malleus. He would go to the ends of the Earth to be reunited, and says so, but he knows you’re not stuck here by choice

He makes tea and allows you to talk. Maybe venting about how rough it is, but he enjoys listening to your memories and what you did over the holidays. You get to reminisce about those you love and the things that bring you joy

Sebek in return tells you a lot about Valley of Thorns. Just as he patiently listened to you, he expects you to eagerly follow along as he monologues about general traditions along with specific ones in relation to Malleus, Silver, and Lilia, along with his own family

You two go through many cups of tea as you compare and contrast your holidays. You still miss your family but you feel a little lighter after the long talk.

He might suggest you go to Lilia for advice to see if you could recreate some traditions! He holds Lilia in high regards and the ancient fae does have an extensive amount of knowledge

#twst x reader #twst headcanons #holiday #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #epel felmier x reader #jack howl x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #sugarplum dreams #twstdreams

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stillchaoticlogic · 5 years ago

Text

Applin Pie

Summary

: Things are hard when you start your own bakery in the heart of Hammerlocke. Good thing your knight in shining armor is none other than Raihan the Gym Leader. You are smitten... Too bad you don't really think you're his type, especially when you see the beautiful and powerful women that surround him.

Good thing he likes you just the way you are.

Pairing: Raihan x Reader

Chapter: 1

Gazing out the window at the fading light you heave a sigh as you glance over at the mostly full case of sweet treats. Looking around at the cozy bakery you take in the overstuffed chairs and the mismatched teacups and plates. The corner houses a fire that is just barely flickering while lanterns hang from the ceiling giving a warm glow to the atmosphere.

You knew opening a new bakery would be difficult, however, you were expecting that being in a prime area, that cost way too much to rent, would bring business. With only three customers all day even as you tried to hand out samples to the streets of Hammerlocke, to say the least, you are disheartened. You decide to close up for the day and lock the door before you begin to wipe down the tables. Your Indeedee, Bella, is cleaning the dishes and helping you to stack the chairs. Spook, your Pumpkaboo, is floating around putting out the candles and pouting about the lack of visitors.

You are startled by a sudden knock on the door, you to look up and you see a man standing there. Surprised you hesitate before you walk over to the door to unlock it.

“Hey! You aren’t closing up, are you? I saw your shop on my way into work today and I’ve been thinking about cake all day because of it,” he says with a friendly grin.

You blink in surprise at the man, “Oh? Well come on in, there is plenty left.”

He smiles as he walks into the shop with an ease you can only dream of and only then do you realize how tall he is. He’s wearing some kind of Pokemon league uniform, but you don’t really pay attention to the league, so you don’t know what he does or who he is.

“What would you like?” you ask as you go behind the counter as Bella begins to clear the chairs from the tables once again. Spook is relighting the candles and thrills as he floats about, happy for the customer.

The man studies the cakes and various other treats in the case before he glances up at you with a heart-stopping smile.

“Sorry, I don’t really know what to get… Any recommendations?” He winks subtly and you fight to keep the blush at bay.

Before you can even open your mouth Strudel, your Appletun, lifts his little head up from where he had been dosing on top of the case before he points to an apple turnover called a Flapple Turnover.

The male blinks at the tiny dragon for a moment before he chuckles at him, “Good choice buddy! I’ll take a Flapple Turnover!”

“Strudel likes to help customers by recommending his favorites,” you say with a laugh.

“He’s a good helper then! It’s pretty cool you have an Appletun, how did you get one? Did your boyfriend give you an Applin?” he asks innocently.

“Oh… I don’t have a boyfriend. When I was younger my family and I went apple picking at an orchard and we accidentally brought home a couple of Applin.”

“A couple?” he asks as he takes a bite of the turnover you hand him before a happy groan leaves his mouth.

At his question Tart, your Flapple, drops from the plant he’s been snoozing in. The stranger blinks at the newcomer before he chuckles at seeing the Flapple hovering before his face waving happily at him.

“So you have one of each!” he says enthusiastically.

“Yeah, Tart likes to sleep in the potted plants that hang from the ceiling, which is fine because he helps to take care of them,” you giggle, “And Strudel likes how warm the case is and helping undecided customers.”

“You’ve got some cool partners! So how long have you been open?”

“About a week, we don’t really have much business yet… That’s why I was closing up early…”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, it’ll get better. In fact, these are great and I’ll take a variety of pastries for the gym tomorrow.”

“Oh! So you work at the gym?” you ask as you grab a box and begin to load him up.

“You mean…” he trails off in surprise.

“Hmmm?” you hum as you glance up at him.

“You don’t know who I am?”

“Should I?” you ask with a furrowed brow.

“Uhh… No! Forget I said anything! This is great, I’m sure everyone at the gym will love these! How much?”

“On the house, you coming in has brightened my day, which is payment enough,” you say waving away his money.

“No way! You’re brand new and I want to support you! How much?” he says pulling out his wallet.

You argue back and forth with the man for a few minutes before he finally relents and takes the pastries from your hands.

“Fine… but you have to let me take a picture with these guys for my Pokegram and let me recommend this place!”

“Deal!” you giggle.

He carefully picks up Strudel and Tart lands on his head as his Rotom Phone flies out and snaps a picture of the three together. He’s so handsome he probably has a lot of followers, you think to yourself as he sets Strudel down gently and Tart flies over and lands on your head.

“Perfect,” he says regarding the photo, “Hey, thanks for the pastries! I’ll be back soon okay? And watch for my post, what is your username?”

“@SweetandSourApplins.”

He chuckles, “Got it! See ya soon!”

You wave as he walks out of the door and you feel for the first time all week that just maybe this isn’t hopeless after all.

You quickly lock up and finish cleaning up the place before you head back into the kitchen. Eclair your Milcery is sitting on the counter near your baking supplies. Heading over to her you chuckle as she chirps up at you.

“Come on everyone, time for bed!” you say as you set the alarm and head towards the door that leads up to your apartment.

It’s a cozy and quaint little place with a nook for reading and a balcony with several vines trailing down. Cherry, your Cherubi, is outside tending to the plants as everyone makes their way to their respective places in the apartment. Syrup, your Slurpuff, is lounging in her bed, exhausted from helping with the baking that day.

The kitchen is off white with plants and vines that hang everywhere and has an airy feeling to it. It looks out into your living room which has a couch and a few chairs surrounding a coffee table. A small kitchen table is off to the side and painted a soft aqua blue. Down the hallway are your bathroom and bedroom. It’s not much, but it is everything you could want.

You get started on dinner for everyone and giggle as Spook floats about the kitchen handing you the ingredients you ask for. After everyone is fed and tucked in you go to bed unsuspecting of the next day’s events.

The next morning you wake up, get ready for your day and head downstairs to your kitchen as if it is any other day. You get to work on making the pastries, pies, and cakes for today. Each one is pokemon-themed and carefully crafted to be extra cute. The attractive customer last night has given you a burst of energy and even if you don’t sell anything today, you think you will still be okay for at least one more day.

With a tray full of a batch of mini cakes you make your way through the swinging door and into the front where you almost drop the tray of desserts. There is a line outside of the door twisting around the corner. Upon seeing you several of them smile and wave happily and you smile back pure elation taking over your body. You set the tray down and motion one minute to the customers milling about outside. You technically have about ten minutes until you open which should give you enough time to set up the case. You get to work yelling at Bella to grab the trays and bring them out. She hops to it as Spook floats about lighting the lanterns and candles that hang from the ceiling and along the wall giving it a whimsical ambiance.

You notice gasps from the crowd as Tart and Strudel make their way out of the back with Syrup right behind them. You chuckle as Tart flaps over to the window and waves happily back at the group. You hear squeals from several of the girls about how cute your tiny dragon is. You chuckle as he continues to dart from one person to another entertaining the crowd as you finish up.

“Strudel? Syrup? Spook? Are we ready? Bella? Good to go?” With a chorus from your team, you head over to the door to unlock it.

“Hey! Welcome!” you greet when you open the door for them.

“Hi! We’re so excited to try your cakes!”

“Raihan said they were the best!”

“The picture of your Flapple and Appletun is the cutest! You must have been so excited when Raihan wanted to take a picture with them!”

“Uhh… yeah, he’s super nice…” you say while you rub your neck.

“What was it like meeting him? Is he as cool in person as he seems?” asks another girl as she shoves the other out of the way.

“Hey, guys you know his favorite was the turnover right? Do you want to try one?”

A chorus of ‘yes!’ goes up from the crowd of girls surrounding you giving you the chance to refocus them. After you have gotten them their pastries they all take pictures for their stories before biting into them.

“These are to DIE for!”

“So good!”

“Raihan has the BEST TASTE!”

“We’ll be back soon!!” They wave as they leave the shop only for more to come in right behind them.

Your morning is filled with young women and trainers buying up cakes, cookies and pastries. Several businessmen and women come in and buy dozens for the office along with coffee. Friends and lovers sit idly in the candlelight sipping tea and eating cakes. Your patio is full to the brim with customers enjoying their treats with their tea or coffee. You’re amused when you notice Cherry hopping about offering mint and lavender to the patrons. They happily accept the fresh herbs before she bounces away.

The stars of the show are definitely Tart and Strudel and everyone always mentions Raihan in passing. You’re pleased when your other pokemon garner affection from your guests too as they squeal about Spook or giggle when Bella or Syrup would bring them their treats. You’re pretty sure your pokemon are now famous.

It’s late afternoon before you get a chance to take a breather. Grabbing your phone for the first time all day you see a plethora of notifications from new followers. You go to the very first notification and see the post the mysterious Raihan posted. You click on his profile and feel yourself become embarrassed.

“Of course he’s a gym leader… Of course, he’s The Gym Leader…” you grumble to yourself as you scroll through his profile. You see another picture of him taking a bit out a cheese danish that must have made the girls go wild. “No wonder I was so busy today… he’s got millions of followers… And he recommended me…” you murmur as you pause on a photo of him licking the icing from one of your treats with a sultry look in his eyes.

You settle on the photo he took last night of your two dragons after a moment of scrolling his Pokegram.

“Got to hang with these cool dudes tonight! They help run a bakery called @SweetandSourApplin you should totally check out! When you do tell Tart and Strudel hi for me. And don’t worry if you don’t know what to get, Strudel loves recommending his favorite pastry to you.”

You giggle at the caption and feel gratitude flood your body. You glance over at the pie you made especially with him in mind and smile. You were glad that you left in the back today, just in case he came by. You know it’s silly, but he really did make your day.

As the afternoon drifts into the evening you regard your mostly empty case and smile as you begin to clean up. You’re hoping you’ll see Raihan, but you know better than to hope that he would come by two nights in a row. As the evening wears on you lose hope and lock up for the night.

You end up on your balcony with a cup of chamomile tea as you gaze up at the stars. Spook is munching on some poke puffs you made as he keeps you company outside. A Flygon suddenly lands gracefully on your balcony its eyes blinking at you. You blink back before your arms flail in surprise as you jerk back in your chair, a yelp escaping as you do so.

“Don’t be scared of him! He’s a total softie. He just wanted to say hi!”

“Huh??” you look around your balcony for the oddly familiar disembodied voice before you look at the balcony one house over. Waving at you casually is your apparent next-door neighbor the Gym Leader Raihan. He’s leaning against the railing with a lazy grin as he regards you and his Flygon with interest.

“You… live… there?” you ask in shock as you point in his direction.

“Sure do!”

The stone house next to your house and bakery is bigger than your own house with vines growing up the side. Perhaps you should have been paying attention the past few months while you’ve been getting things ready. Then again you have been rather busy so it’s really not a wonder that you missed your handsome and famous neighbor.

“Oh…” You blink back at him while your exhausted brain attempts to catch up.

Raihan laughs as his Flygon leans forward and sniffs you before chirping at you happily.

“Hello,” you murmur as you gently lift your hand and run it along his neck, “Perhaps you would like a poke puff too?”

The pokemon chirps at you as you get up and head into your house before you emerge a moment later with a bag in your hand. Tart yawns as he follows you back outside and lands on your shoulder as he sniffs at the much larger dragon. You reach into the bag and pull out a puff that you hand to the dragon in front of you before you grab another one for the one on your shoulder.

“He likes you!” laughs Raihan before he calls his partner back over to him. You chuckle as you watch Flygon show Raihan his treat before he eats it.

“Thank you!” you blurt out suddenly.

“Huh? For what?” he asks as he pauses petting his companion.

“For the recommendation… I sold almost everything today thanks to you!”

“Naw I just let them know you were there, you did everything else.”

“Still… thank you…”

“Anytime, Princess.”

You chuckle at the nickname, “I bet you call all the girls princess… Gym Leader Raihan.”

He winces when you say his title, “So you found me out, huh?”

“You made it kinda easy…”

He sighs as he puts his hands on his hips and looks up at the night sky, “Could you just… pretend you don’t know?”

“Huh? Why?” you tilt your head at his request.

“It was nice talking to you without having to be… Dragon Tamer Raihan… It was cool being just Raihan.”

“Well, you are just Raihan… I mean it’s cool that you’re a gym leader and you get to do what you love, but that doesn’t change who you are as a person. Plus… no offense… I don’t really pay attention to league stuff...”

“No offense taken princess,” he says with a chuckle.

“So...I uh… made an apple pie last night to try out a new design and recipe for the store… do you want to come over and test it out with me?” You’re glad the darkness hides your blush, and although you already know that this recipe is delicious your little white lie seems much less creepy than you just making him a pie.

“Princess I will never say ‘no’ to anything that you make. I’ll be right there!”

He runs into his house and disappears before you hear his front door open.

“Come to the back!” you yell down at him as you lean over the railing.

He sends you a thumbs up before you turn around and head to your back door. A moment later you hear footsteps coming up your back stairs and you let him in.

“Cute place,” he says as he ducks his head to enter your home.

“Oh… thanks!” you smile as you turn around to grab the pie that looks almost exactly like Strudel.

“That’s not actually your Appletun, right? It looks exactly like him!” he says in awe.

You giggle, “Nope! It took me a long time to get this right! Here!” you say as you hand him a slice.

He takes a bite and his eye widen in amazement, “This is amazing…” he says before he takes another mouth full.

“I’m glad you like it! Here, try this as well! It’s a spiced tea, I think the spices complement one another quite well, don’t you?”

He quickly takes a sip before he devours another bite of his pie, “That’s it, you’re staying in business and right next door to me if I have anything to say about it! I’m not giving up my new job as an official taste tester.”

“Well if business continues like it did today you won’t have anything to worry about,” you say as you clap your hands together in excitement.

“I’m glad you were busy today! I couldn’t stand seeing that look of disappointment on your face.”

“When did you see that?” you ask looking away from him.

“When I knocked yesterday you looked so disappointed, I had to figure out a way to see that beautiful smile of yours.”

“Hush Raihan…” you say with a blush.

“It’s true! I saw you getting everything ready for your bakery to open and you were so excited! I loved seeing your smile, it always made my day brighter.”

You look away from him and blush, “I bet you say that to all the girls,” you say with a giggle as you playfully hit his arm.

“Just the pretty ones who know how to bake,” he says with a wink.

You roll your eyes, “So cheesy…”

“You love cheese! I know you do!”

You cut yourself a slice of the pie as a means of distracting yourself just as Strudel comes striding towards the two of you.

“Hey buddy,” Raihan says as he bends down to greet the tiny dragon, “Did you recommend all kinds of treats today?”

Strudel chirps up at Raihan, clearly happy to see him again as Raihan rubs the Appletun under his chin.

“You train dragons right?”

“That’s right!”

“I bet you have a lot of cool pokemon…”

“I do have a really cool team. They are the best a guy could ask for. Do you battle?” he glances over his shoulder at you.

“Not really…Sometimes I will, but I don’t have much of a reason to.”

“So you aren’t interested in battling at all?”

“Ahh well, I wouldn’t say that…” you hesitate as you find the right words, “I’m just out of practice. I battled when I was younger a bit, but I haven’t had much of a reason to lately.”

You shrug your shoulders as you regard Raihan.

“If you like battles, I would love it if you would come to my match on Saturday. It’s an exhibition match with Allister.”

“Who’s Allister? Another gym leader?”

Raihan laughs, not in a cruel way, perhaps more at himself before he answers you, “Yeah, he’s the Ghost-type leader of Stow-on-Side gym.”

“I love ghost types! I think they’re fun!”

“They are pretty fun! Do you have any others besides your Pumpkaboo?”

“No…” you say looking down slightly disappointed, “I’ve always wanted a Litwick or a Dreepy! Maybe even a Mimikyu!” Your eyes light up in excitement thinking about the cute ghosts you’ve always wanted.

“Why don’t you catch one then?”

“I don’t know… I’ve been really focused on the bakery you know? It’s a lot of work and my friends are very helpful, I doubt I would have time for another Pokemon right now…”

“I get it… Too bad though… you would look cute with a Dreepy riding on your shoulder or a Mimikyu following along behind you… I bet your Pumpkaboo could show a Litwick the ropes…” he says looking at you as if he was imagining the pokemon keeping you company, his head resting on his hand and that lazy smile on his handsome face.

You cock your head to the side, “What? You don’t think I’m cute now?” you tease.

“Ahh… So we’re going to play that game huh? You know you’re adorable, Princess.”

You laugh as you regard the dragon tamer before you murmur, “Alright I believe you…”

“I’m hurt, princess! Do you think I would lie to you?”

“Of course not, Raihan,” you chuckle as you grab his dirty plate from him.

“Why do I have a feeling you’re going to spoil me?” Raihan asks as he regards you over the tea in his hands.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, Princess… So are you coming to my battle on Saturday?”

“I’ll be there!”

“Excellent! I’m going to head home so you can get some rest, I’m sure you’re tired after your busy day.”

“Ok … Thanks for being my taste tester and for supporting me today.”

“Anytime princess… Anytime…”

“Good night!”

“Hey! Don’t forget your promise okay? I’m getting your ticket tomorrow!”

“I won’t forget!”

“Okay, I’m holding you to that! Good night.”

You smile as you watch him turn the corner before you close the door and giggle. You notice the look that Strudel is giving you and you frown at the little dragon.

“Oh hush…”

He chirps up at you knowingly before you both head to bed to start another day.

Notes: Hey guys just something cute I’ve been working on! I hope you enjoy it! Leave a comment and some love and reblog to show support!

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