#you don't realise how long i spent looking for book titles for this fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aphroditesmoon · 11 months ago

Text

wish you'd ask me

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

summary: you're not good at reading subtle hints, clarisse realises that maybe she should've been more upfront with her feelings for you.

warnings: fluff, oblivious!reader, clarisse is down bad, reader is very neurodivergent coded, kissing, flirting, title n fic inspired by 'Wish You'd Ask Me' by Matt Maltese.

A/N: thank you for 1.9k followers!! I love you all dearly, my ask box and dms r always open, im glad that my writing is being enjoyed by so many people<3

wc: 4.5k

You have been in camp half blood for more than 4 years. You have made yourself at home for the last several years.

It was easy to view yourself as lesser or inadequate in comparison to other mortals during your days in the real world before you were sent to camp. The world has never failed to remind you of how different you were. Always too much or not good enough, always special and never normal

And it wasn't like you were dying for some sort of diagnosis to justify why you are the way you are, but upon discovering that you were actually a demigod, it felt like all the questions you've been harboring to yourself was finally answering themselves.

Everything clicked. Everything made sense, though at the same time, it felt impossible. You were a very confused little girl when you first arrived at camp. A girl who just wanted someone to tell them that it'll all be alright in the end.

And you still remembered the first person to hold you by your shoulders and made you look into their eyes as they told you that it was all going to be okay.

The girl with beautiful long curls and dark piercing eyes. The girl that everyone else, apparently, was afraid of.

But you could never be afraid of Clarisse La Rue.

Not with the way she smiles when every time she sees you, the way she never fails to make you feel included even in activities you're not capable of participating in. Not with the way your whole body electrifies every time your skin touches, when your hands brush against each other.

It didn't matter what anyone think, because no one could change the perception you've built of her. Clarisse La Rue is good. Or at least she is to you.

When you first heard of the rumours surrounding her, you did think better than to force a friendship on her. You strayed away from her and stuck to your cabin siblings and your books, but you noticed daily how she'd still go out of her way to talk to you at least once a day.

It didn't need to be a long conversation, just a passing acknowledgement. An easygoing 'hey, how've you been doing.' Sometimes she'd even go as far as cracking a joke with you.

With how serious her face is whenever she make the jokes, you'd have to think twice as hard and thrice as faster than another person to try and guess if she was being genuine or not so you could fit in a necessary laugh when you needed to.

Even as her anger became more apparent because of the new kid's accidental climb to fame and embarrassing the Ares' cabin, she still found time to make a conversation with you.

It had been long since you tried to ignore or avoid her. You learned that her attention towards you is harmless, and that she seemed much more comfortable telling you certain things compared to others. If she has been viewing you as some sort of safe box, then you don't really mind it. You liked listening to her talk and keeping her heart's intent as your secret.

You too, talking to her. To some people, you are reserved,

and to others, talkative. Either way, people find it easy to discard you at any moment they decide you are irritating.

But Clarisse listens. And she asks questions, she's patient- much patient that anyone could anticipate or guess.

It may be hard for others to believe, but Clarisse is more complex than she seems. She had the capacity to be gentle, and she had the capacity to respect boundaries. The more time you spent with her, the more that side becomes easy for you to access.

Today, however, marks a new record for your friendship with her. A few weeks ago, she had informed you of her newfound interest in the history of folklore monsters. What a coincidence that you were currently self-studying on that specific topic.

She insisted that you hook her in on whatever it is you're learning. She had even gotten you a doughnut to eat together outside the library as you told her of your insights of dragons and their theorized blindness and incapability to differentiate a variety of prey.

The conversation went well, she seemed immensely in awe of your knowledge and had no problem telling you how she felt.

You even gave her some book recommendations, though you knew she wasn't much of a reader.

You felt a shift in your relationship that night and had spent the next three days studying more and more about the topic. And today, you had asked her to spend the evening with you.

You shouldn't feel so nervous asking her to hang out. That is what friends do, after all.

She found you in the library, sitting on the floor in between two large bookshelves. She had been right on time and enthusiastically so. The two of you sat together, hidden by the shelves as some semblance of privacy.

Clarisse looked confused when you had explained that you indeed wanted to spend the rest of the day in the library, but she accompanied you anyways.

You could never get sick of the smell of the books. Old and new, they all have some nostalgic past tied in between the pages, begging to be discovered.

You had your back on the walls with tinted windows above your head as she's seated opposite of you in a criss-crossed position.

Today, the library isn't as packed as usual. There were still people walking in and out and checking out the books on the counter, but not too many that it became obnoxiously loud and annoying.

After finishing another book of Monsters and how to spot them, you're feeling knowledgeable enough to explain the lore of the Giants to Clarisse, she had asked you about this the other day, giants have been long extinct to the point that some might even say they may have never even existed. And so you were interested in sharing with her all of the information you have learned about the majestic species of a beast.

You started with the general information. The basic understanding of what a Giant is the mythhs of Giants and the validity of those sources. Clarisse listened closely in the beginning, never interrupting you unless she had an actual question.

She seemed in awe of the stories you tell her of. You don't blame her, for you yourself have been most interested in the topic of Giants.

You were an hour an a half in when noticed her attention faltering. She leaned against the cases of books, her eyes twitched slightly when you began to explain the different types of giants, and the difference of how they operate.

Her hands are folded together on her lap, and you can feel her listening in on everything you're telling her as she adds in some commentary here and there, but you also felt that she wasn't entirely in on the conversation.

The dim lights of the library made the atmosphere feel warm and secluded, even with its vast space and many other campers hanging around in the other tables and shelves. You made sure to keep your voice low as you spoke in fear of the librarian kicking you out.

You had a good reputation with the library workers, they liked how organized and polite you were.

"A lot of people think their greatest strength is their size, which is valid, they are huge, but their real weapon is their mouth." You told Clarisse, ignoring the litter of books by your left that you had brought over for reference.

"They kiss you to death?" She asks suspiciously. You laughed shortly and shook your head. "No, I mean their breath."

She responds with an 'ohh.'

"They're giants, so their mouth is large too, and you can easily tell what they had for breakfast even from their tall height. Their breaths are also known to be so rancid it could kill you, because they don't exactly eat what we eat."

She raises a brow as she stretches her hands upwards. "Isn't that ogres?"

"It's both." You confirmed.

You were about to continue your explanation but halted by instinct as you notice how her mouth keeps pursing together as if unsatisfied, and she has that look on her face that mimicked a confused expression. You're don't think there's anything to be confused of.

"Are you okay?" You asked her worriedly. Clarisse sits up straighter at the question and waved a hand off to assure you she's fine. "Of course, no yeah- I'm fine."

"You seem bored, you're not really interested in what I'm saying are you?” She opens her mouth to counter your words but hesitates to say anything.

"I- well, I like giants-" She attempts, "-no you don't. "

"No. I don't." She admits with a sigh. "But I thought you said you were interested in these kind of stuff?" You questioned her. "Well, yeah, like the general idea of it. I mean, I don't hate it, and I like hearing you talk about it." She answers with a shrug.

"Then why do you look disappointed? If you didn't want to come, you could've just told me. I wouldn't get mad." You told her honestly. It was conflicting for you to see her so confused on what to say, being so picky with the words she chooses.

You figured she's probably reluctant to hurt your feelings. That is a notion you're used to. You'd rather she tell you the truth to your face than to be catered around like a time ticking bomb that everyone's so afraid might explode at any time.

"When you asked me out yesterday, you told me this would be an 'evening to remember." She tells you with such confidence like it was an explanation to her weird behaviour today.

"You don't think this is an evening to remember?" You sincerely inquire.

"No, I do! I just- well, when you said that I didn't think you'd mean we'd be doing this." Your frown deepens as you try to figure out what she means, eyeing her body language closely. “What do you mean? I told you I wanted to hang out.”

A part of you is offended. She was the one who had said she liked hearing you speak, why would she be disappointed that this was your idea of spending time together?

"I don't know, I thought we'd just be doing...something else?"

It didn't matter what she had really meant with that. You felt completely embarrassed once she finished her sentence. Why was it that everyone else had no problem having long conversations with their friends, but when it came to you, it's all too awkward, unnecessary, and odd?

You liked Clarisse, you considered her your friend. Sometimes you wonder if it could ever be more, but you never entertain those thoughts because you don't want to ruin what the two of you already have.

But moments like these resemble a huge slap in the face by the universe.

You couldn't even be good friends with her, how ridiculous of you to think that there could ever be something more.

"Okay, um, maybe we should just go back to our cabin." You decided whilst standing up and picking up the stack of books you're currently borrowing from the library, ready to leave the place without waiting for her.

"Hey, wait." She called out as you walked past her. You spared her a glance, trying your best not to show how upset you are. “We're friends." She says it so much like a question that you weren't sure if she's even sure of the fact herself until she continued speaking. "I like hanging out with you."

Another thing that you weren't sure if she really meant. "Sure." You replied thinking it's the most suitable response.

Before she could say anything else, you turned around and started picking up your pace until you disappeared out of her sight.

—

You have been consistently ignoring Clarisse. Which proved to be harder than expected.

When you pass by her camp or the training ground, you make a mental note to always look down or to your front as to never accidentally cross eyes with her.

And everytime you hear her call out your name, you keep walking like you didn't even hear her, knowing that she wouldn't be bold enough to call for you again. After all, she still had a reputation to uphold.

If ignoring her wasn't hard enough, having to deal with how you felt for her is worse.

You've been avoiding confrontation with yourself for weeks even before you decided to go no contact with her.

And so far, you thought you've been handling it pretty well. Except for days where you don't see her where she's expected to be. You tell yourself that you don't care as you make your way to training in the day and reading in the evening, and yet you still go back on your own words when you asked a passerby Ares kid on where his cabin leader was.

"She's dunking some kid's head into a toilet bowl." Of course she was.

You thanked the dude and went back on your way to your cabin. It's close to dusk, the sky is turning orange and the sun is dipping itself below the earth. You take your time returning to your cabin as you enjoy the way the sun slowly removes itself from anyone's viewing.

You wondered to yourself if things like these are what makes you weird or off-putting to some people.

Was enjoying nature and having niche interests only cute when it's done by girls pretty enough to be cool or if it's only in romance movies or books.

You don't find yourself weird, in fact you think all of your hobbies are pretty common and usual, and yet the way Clarisse had spoken to you at the library last week had made you feel unnatural.

You had wanted to do normal people things with her, but maybe your perception of normal is different to her.

Either way, you are pretty hurt with how she reacted. You loved her still, of course. It's kind of hard to unlike the girl you've been obsessed with since you were 15.

Once you finally reach your cabin, you quickly put down all of your books and your tiny sling back by the side before making it to the shower to refresh yourself before dinner.

You thought it hilarious of how hard you're trying not to care about Clarisse, and yet as you're cleaning yourself up, changing your clothes and attempting to read at least 15 pages of your World's Most Dangerous Beasts book, you could only think of her.

What would it take for her to think that you're cool, what kind of things did she want to do instead of listening to you yap around for 2 hours on what is an equivalent of a boring dinosaur facts, not that you really think dinosaurs are boring.

During dinner, you kept to siblings and had to make yourself finish your plate as your anxiety wrecking thoughts have a way of deriving you of an appetite. You also had to convince yourself to not search for her at the other tables which took more strength than one would expect.

But you succeeded, and you were now sure that the only obstacle left for the day was to try and fall asleep without the thoughts of her keeping you up.

Clarisse is a force, a fierce daughter of Ares, and a cabin leader who had much better things to do then hole up at quiet small places with you.

And just because she was nice enough to mantain a good relationship with you for 4 years, does not mean that you're worth her time. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

That night, you managed to fall asleep after an hour of recalling Harpy facts in repetition. Counting sheeps had never worked on you, so you had to find something much more active to tire out your brain.

You dreamed of Clarisse with her hair down, holding your hand and pulling you closer so she could slip a flower on your ear.

And just as she's looking down at you, moving closer to do what it seemed like to kiss you, you awoke with a jolt, swearing under your breath as if you'd just gotten jumpscared by a ghost.

Someone's palms moved to shut your lips as you're met with a girl, hovering over you in the dark. Clarisse's dark eyes were recognizable, but it sent a shot of adrenaline through your body still.

"Shh." She whispered to your face, hand still keeping your mouth shut. "I'm going to remove my hands now." She whispered again. You nod in understanding and waited for her to pry her hand away from your face.

"What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed as quiet as possible as she helped you sit up.

"I'm sneaking you out." She answers with a wink. "It's 2 in the morning." You waved your hand around at the darkness and sleeping children. "3 in the morning, and yeah, I know. That's why it's called sneaking around." She corrects you with a grin so devilish that if you hadn't known her for a long time, you'd assume she's about to turn you into a new toilet bowl or dumpster boxing victim.

You sighed loudly and glared at her despite your fast beating heart. Her hand remained on top of yours until the minute becomes more awkward and she removes it as if she just remembered that she's been holding your hand.

Without explanation, she climbed out of your bed and tiptoes to the open cabin door. You're still sitting up and looking at her with conflicted feelings.

Only after she turns back to you, cocking her head towards the entrance, do you give into her request and softly leave the comfort of your bed and trail after her.

"Where are we going?" You asked after her as she kept walking. Instead of responding, she asks you another question back, "Can you swim?"

"We're going swimming?" You watch her shrug in return from behind her and became even more distressed.

"So, is this your idea of having fun and hanging out then?" She laughs drily and slowed down so you could catch up. You walked fast enough until you're beside her and waited for her to talk. "You sound surprised, I would've thought that after 4 years of friendship, you'd know by now that I love doing things that includes active movements."

You did know that, it's a bit hard to not notice how much working out, training and running fuels her even more.

"And why are we doing it in the middle of the night?" The walk towards the lake by the back of the forest was short, considering that your cabin is the closest to the location.

You almost tripped and fell over a stick, but Clarisse was quick to scoop you back up by the back of your shirt. "Thanks." You mumbled to her. "And you haven't answered my question."

Clarisse pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the ground without caring of your presence. You, having more moral obligations than her, twisted your face to your left when she began to pull her trousers off. "Too many people in broad daylight." She tells you.

That is a valid reason, this lake is mostly known as a hook up spot, and true to it's cause, many dating campers have been caught together here during dawn or late evenings.

You braved yourself to turn towards her again slowly and realised that she had already hopped into the water. She had a sports bra on and a boxer.

And though you yourself had a tank top and shorts on, you contemplate the idea of suicide as a better choice than having to strip in front of her.

"Are you gonna get in, or are you just gonna gawk at me from there?" You were grateful for the dark being able to hide your flushed face from her, but deep down, you knew that she probably saw it anyways because of the shining bright moonlight.

"I can't swim." You told her.

"That's fine, the water's not very deep." You ransacked your brain for reasons to decline her offer, but at the same time, a small part of you yearned to take this risk that you've been so afraid of for gods knows whatever reason.

Clarisse is there, in the water and under the moonlight. You are only a few steps away from her. And like she said, the water isn't deep, only waist length. She stares back at you with a raised brow like she's challenging you to join her.

"Turn around first." You tell her. She smirked slightly before slowly spinning to the opposite direction. "You know I've seen you naked before right?"

"What?" You choked out, aghast. "Who do you think changed your clothes for you when you first got to camp." Oh, that.

Your shoulder relaxes as you realize she's talking about the first time you met. "That's was a long time ago." You noted. She hummed im agreement. "Yeah, we've both grown since."

You told her she could turn around once you're inside the water. Forgetting about the heighy difference between you two, the water was high enough to reach your chest, trying your best not to trip underwater the way you always do on dry ground, your hand instinctively reached outnfor her shoulder.

Clarisse held your forearm tightly and drew your closer to her until you're inches away from eachother.

You breathed in sharply and felt the need to fill in the awkward silence. "So, you...like swimming, huh?"

"Yes, evidently so." She answered. "Right right, can't sit still and all that." She actually chuckled at your sarcasm, making you proud of yourself.

"You know, even before I came to camp Half Blood, I use to be a pretty active person, running track, volleyball, sometimes swimming." Your eyes widened in curiosity. "Really?" She nodded.

"The counselor told my mom that I just had so many untapped energy, which I guess is a code for anger issues." Her grip on your forearm moves higher until her palm is over your shoulder. "She told her that it'd be best for me to find a...healthy way, to channel that energy, and for my strong competitiveness. So I joined what I could, and that's how I spent most of my free time there. Besides, I never was that good academically. So, I ought to at least be good at something, right?"

"You are good." You blurted out. Your embarrassment faded away when you saw her smile. "You think so?"

"Yeah." You assured her. Her other hand had snaked around your waist without you noticing. Only when you moved slightly do you notice her holding you softly.

"The moon is really nice tonight, isn't it?" You said, trying to diffuse the tension. You pointed your finger up to the sky at the singular white orb.

She glanced up and let out a 'huh.'

"I like it when it's bright and whole like this, the moon in all of its glory. You don't even notice the starts around it when it's glowing like that." You could stare at the moom forever, even longer than the way you've been staring at the sun.

You believed in it the way children do with their birthday candle. To you, the moon has always been a symbol of hope or comfort for your future. Your fascination for it existed from when you were a child, the way it'd follow you from behind as you gazed upon it from the back of the car seat whilst your parent drove down the road.

The way it moved above you as you walked home from school, like one of the gods themselves watching over you.

"Nothing compares to the moon." You announced aloud, watching as the clouds around it began to gather over it. "Yeah, It's beautiful." You hear Clarisse speak.

As your head snapped back to her, you found that she had already been facing you.

"I like the moon...but not as much as I like you." She whispered loud enough for your ears only. Her face leans closer to yours, your noses brushing together. "Not as much as I like to hear your voice, when you tell me about your little harpy facts-"

"Oh, I haven't told you about the harpies yet." You cut her off. "I just finished that chapter this morning actually and-"

"-and, you can tell me about it after I'm done talking." You blushed and became silent, letting her speak.

Clarisse exhaled breathily, fanning your face with the subtle warm air. "I like doing things that friends do with you, but I don't want to be your friend anymore."

"Oh."

"I want to be more than friends." She elaborated.

"Oh." Oh.

You feel a sudden tightness in your chest, from anxiety or from butterflies is undecided. "You want to be best friends?" You joked, laughing nervously.

Clarisse snorted at your joke, but she was still grinning widely. "Best friends, If that's what you want to call it."

There was a moment of understanding shared between a second of shared gazes before her lips attached themselves to yours. An urgency, approval, meaning that can't be described by words.

Whatever gentleness there was inside of her before had vanished. Clarisse kissed you like a starved woman. Her lips craved yours like it'd be the last time she'll ever know how you taste like.

Your hands clasped on her shoulder and neck for support as she embraced you tighter to her body. You let her tongue slip into your mouth, meeting your own.

And as they danced together, inhaling all there is in your lips, every secret and every confession that have died on the tip ofnyour tongues, you are sure that no heaven nor hell could tear you open to see you back together like this.

You push her back abruptly, letting fresh air fill your empty lungs. "What's wrong?" Clarisse inquired worriedly.

"Last week." You sighed out, chest still heaving as your thoughts clicked together. "You thought I had asked you on a date, that's why you were disappointed."

She winced at the reminder, and for the first time in your life, you had been lucky enough to witness a flustered Clarisse.

"I'm right." Her silence confirmed. "Oh Clarisse, why didn't you just ask me?"

Huffing loudly, she rolls her eyes in irritation. "I thought I was obvious enough. "

Thinking back on it all, it did seem pretty obvious, but gods were you oblivious. The way you intepreted it all so wrongly.

"I've liked you for so long too." You admitted to her. Her scowl was gone at that, replaced by a teasing smile. "And what are you gonna do about it?" Her mouth returned to yours, letting go of all your fears and holding on to Clarisse like she's your anchor, you close the gap between your lips, welcoming the kind of pleasure that you've never tasted before.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo series #pjo x reader #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #dior goodjohn #wlw

2K notes · View notes

randomactuallywrites-57 · 8 years ago

Text

Keep the Change

Title: Keep the Change Author: RandomWriter57 Rating: G Word Count: 1,916 Event + Prompt: @reigisaweek day five: Change Pairings: reigisa Summary: Working in a bookshop is a life which tends to involve few changes. Any changes that happen can be dealt with. Then he can return to the comforts of the life he knows. When Hazuki Nagisa comes into the shop for the first time, it’s a change which Rei doesn’t know how to deal with.

Also on: AO3

Working in a bookshop is a life which tends to involve few changes. The hours are the same all week, except for Sundays and holidays, on which the shop is closed. The stock grows, but is never swapped completely. Every book has its place in a section which doesn’t move. And, invariably, the place smells of dust and wood polish and books, no matter how much his manager tries to ‘spruce it up’ with various scented air fresheners.

It’s the unchanging nature of the job which keeps Rei in love with it even after the initial honeymoon phase of being surrounded by books six days a week for nine hours fades to the back of the shelves. Unlike his more ambitious friends, he’s always found that a consistent lifestyle is best for him. That isn’t to say he enjoys monotony, of course. As long as the work is interesting to him, it doesn’t matter if it’s the same work every day. If it was dull, he’d have left a long time ago.

Sometimes, however, a change will occur. Like when his first manager left after receiving a job offer which actually required her university degree and payed better, to boot. Or when they spent a whole week rearranging the shop to add in some new shelves. Those times, the changes can be dealt with. Then he can return to the comforts of the life he knows.

When Hazuki Nagisa comes into the shop for the first time, it’s a change which Rei doesn’t know how to deal with.

Not that he suspects anything, on that first day. In fact, nothing out of the ordinary happens at all, that day. The blond boy spends a while browsing the non-fiction shelves before moving to the comic books. After a while, he comes up to the counter and pays. He doesn’t have a shop points card, but yes, he’ll have one, please. Rei registers him on the system and rings up his books. One is a generic romance novel - 'Say You Want Me' - and the other a religious fiction book called 'I'm Asking You Nicely'. Together with a generic superhero comic, it's a somewhat odd mixture.

Rei bags the books. Tells Nagisa to have a nice day. Mentally notes that this boy’s smile is nice. Nagisa leaves, and Rei doesn’t expect to see him again, not for a while, anyway.

But Nagisa returns sooner than he expects. Only two days later, the boy drags a brown-haired man who looks to be twice his height into the shop. (Looking again, Rei knows the man is not quite twice Nagisa’s height. Still, he’s much taller, and when they stand side-by-side in front of a bookshelf, Rei can’t help but notice the difference in their shoulder widths.) After noting their presence, Rei tries not to pay them much thought.

Only moments later, he finds that he can’t focus on checking off the newest delivery of books. He keeps losing count, even though books should be pretty easy to count. He looks up and sees the cause of his distraction has taken his taller companion to another shelf and is pointing out some books on the top. Rei clicks his tongue softly and lowers his head again.

Focus, Ryugazaki.

But he can’t. Every moment that the blond is in the shop, Rei finds his mind wandering, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. In the end, he gives up on checking off the order, too frustrated to think about the numbers. He settles for reading the blurbs of the books, all of which are new, though he doesn’t recognise the authors.

“Excuse me!”

Rei looks up. The blond boy is in front of the counter, his smile broad.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, my friend was wondering where you keep your classic literature,” Nagisa says, looking over to his friend, who is still lurking by the Non-Fiction - Cookery section. “You know, like Shakespeare and stuff.”

“Which book are you looking for?” Rei asks, directing his question at the ‘friend’.

The friend startles at the attention. “A-ah, it’s Frankenstein…”

“Shelley, then.” Rei moves from behind the counter, heading towards the right section of the store. “If you’ll just follow me.”

He doesn’t need to tell them. Nagisa is already bouncing on his heels, with his friend trailing behind him. In a moment, they reach the right shelves, and Rei pulls out the latest edition of the book.

“This is the edition with Shelley’s 1831 edits.” Rei hands the books to the friend, who blanches at the cover. Part of him is amused at the fact that this man is so frightened by a book, of all things. One that isn’t too scary, too. “Is there anything else you need?”

“N-no, that’s everything, thanks.”

“Wait, I’m gonna look at the comics. You go pay for that now, Mako-chan.” Nagisa thanks Rei before rushing off to the comics section, leaving him alone with ‘Mako-chan’.

Rei leads ‘Mako-chan’ back to the counter and scans his book into the till.

“Sorry about my friend,” ‘Mako-chan’ says, pulling out his wallet. “He’s a little boisterous.”

“It’s fine,” Rei says, as much as he would like to agree with ‘Mako-chan’. From what he can tell, at least, Nagisa is quite an energetic person, though he was more reserved when he was alone. “That’s 850 yen, please.”

The man hands over a note. Rei puts it through the till and hands his change back as Nagisa returns, a couple of comics and one book in his hands.

“Just these ones, please!” Nagisa says, pushing them towards Rei.

Rei scans them through, trying not to let his surprise show when the book is 'Never Let Me Go'. Not the kind of book he would have pegged Nagisa to enjoy, but considering his past purchases, he seems to have an erratic taste in literature. Rei puts the transaction through and passes Nagisa’s bag to him without comment. “Thank you for your purchase.”

“Have a good day, Rei-chan!” Nagisa says, pausing to look at Rei’s name badge.

Before Rei can sputter a reply, Nagisa and his friend disappear, leaving him to fume over a perfect stranger calling him by his forename - and in such an informal manner, too!

Even that day isn’t the end of Hazuki Nagisa. He returns to the shop a few times in the next couple of weeks, sometimes with his friend but usually alone. Rei isn’t always in when Nagisa visits, of course, but his colleague doesn’t hesitate to tell him every detail of how dejected the boy looked when he got to the counter and found that his cashier wasn’t ‘Rei-chan’, but a red-haired, pointy-toothed man called Rin.

Rei tries not to think much of Nagisa. He has a job to do, one which shouldn’t need to change to accommodate a regular customer. But he can’t help, whenever Nagisa visits the shop, but to let his mind wander for a while. He learns by the third visit that there’s no point in doing a task which requires focus when Nagisa is there. There’s no chance of him being able to think properly, after all.

When a whole month passes with Nagisa as a regular customer, Rei forces himself to admit that part of him actually looks forward to his visits. Some weeks, Nagisa will visit almost every day, whereas others, he’ll only come in once, if at all. On those weeks, Rei finds himself the most distracted, particularly towards the end of the week when all he can think about is whether he’ll see a certain head of blond hair that day.

Eventually, he decides enough is enough. If he’s this interested in Nagisa, then there’s no point in letting their relationship culminate in only a few exchanges over the counter. He might as well make some effort to see him outside of work. Judging by Nagisa’s interactions with him, it seems like he might be interested too. And if he isn’t, then at least Rei will have made an effort, right?

It isn’t as simple as he would like it to be, to carry out his plan. Mostly because he’s nervous, and because Nagisa doesn’t show up for a few days. He has everything prepared, but he can’t do anything if the blond isn’t in the shop. This means he spends a few shifts stewing quietly, unable to focus well on his tasks. Luckily his co-workers seem to understand what’s up, and aside from some innocent teasing, they leave him be.

Then, finally, when Rei’s about to lose all hope, Nagisa returns. The bell above the door chimes as usual, and instinctively Rei looks up from his work to see who it is. He meets burgundy eyes, which brighten.

“Hi!” Nagisa says with a breathtaking smile. Like, literally breathtaking. Rei barely manages to reply with a quiet ‘hello’ because he isn’t sure if he can breathe.

He watches the blond head over to the non-fiction shelves before ducking his head back down. He can’t just stare at him! Not only would that be rude, but he needs to at least try to look busy. Even if he doesn’t actually finish the task at hand, at least he’ll look like he’s doing work and he won’t be fired. (Hopefully. Though he’s been lucky so far.)

Ten excruciating minutes of refraining from looking up pass before he hears the soft thud of a book on the counter. He finally looks up.

“Just this one, please,” Nagisa says, pushing the book towards him.

As he picks it up to scan it, the title catches Rei’s eye. Somehow, it’s more eye-catching than the flashy, cliched romance novel cover.

‘Don’t Hold Back Your Love.’

Usually, Rei wouldn’t pay it much notice, but today it feels like a sign. He scans the book into the register and asks for Nagisa’s points card, then tells him the price. Instead of paying by card like Rei hoped he would, so Rei could carry out his plan without him noticing, he pulls out some bank notes and hands them over. Still, he has a chance. After putting the notes in the till, he tears the receipt and places it inside the book, alongside a sticky note which has been sitting on his desk for days, now. He then closes the book and slides it across the counter, his hand heading back to the till to find the correct change.

But before Rei can hand it to Nagisa, the blond picks up his book and winks at Rei. “Keep the change.”

He’s gone before Rei can protest, the bells ringing even after the change falls back into the cash drawer.

(Not that Rei wants to protest, after he gets a text from an unknown number, containing only a picture of a few books, arranged into a question.

‘Coffee.’

‘By Your Side.’

‘Tomorrow.’

There’s a question mark made from paper beside the last book, as well as a leaflet for a local coffee shop.

It's only now that Rei remembers the names of the books Nagisa has bought before. Maybe, all this time, Nagisa has been trying to get his attention, too, in a way too subtle for Rei to notice. Now that he knows this, though, he knows how to answer, too.

He searches the shelves during his break and snaps a photo in reply, the cover of a single book in the centre.

‘Yes Please.’)

#reigisa #reigisa week #reigisaweek #free!#free! fanfiction #fanfiction #let's see if this one actually shows up in the tags hm #you don't realise how long i spent looking for book titles for this fic #i've linked all the real books in the end notes on ao3 but i'm not bothering to copy them all over here #there are three fakes as well lol

5 notes · View notes

iovelore · 3 years ago

Text

❝ MORTAL TALES ❞ ( O1 )

summary and word count: a certain fae can’t help but find amusement in the youngest elfhame’s prince‘s frustration. wc — 1493

pairings: the cruel prince!cardan greenbriar x fem!reader

contents and warnings: jealousy, hinting of threesome, mentions of knife (nothing extreme), suggestive content, mutual pining-ish, fluffy?

a/n: i used tcp cardan because i couldn’t see any context of y/n being used in a fic in the other books (i also need it for the next part </3). i tried my best to include the tail bit since it didn‘t come out right, ill add it in either part 2/3. cardan is a bit ooc (i made him a bit idk how to put it besides: sub?man whore. because i believe that’s what he is 😁). and y/n resembles jude just a little bit with the blade thing, but only a little because jude is neither very flirty or open up about her sexuality (more so in the first book) and that’s what i made y/n like.

also, since this was more in y/n’s perspective, next part will be more so cardans <3

Y/N's legs crossed as she leaned her head on locke's shoulder, while Poppy, a half-faerie: who Locke has shown great interest in— for all the wrong reasons — sat before them and told them of the mortal tales her father would recite to her every night or the ones she gathered on her own from her adventures back where the humans lived.

Y/N found them odd: how they all were almost nothing compared to the people here; they were fragile, but she found similar enjoyment in them all nonetheless — and perhaps she had the eldest duarte to blame for her obsession with all things mortal, and Poppy's tales weren't helping either — which has unfortunately gained her the harsh scowls from the youngest prince of Elfhame.

Though that was no surprise. The boy had never been kind enough for her to realise that his treatment towards her was almost cruel — not that it had mattered, because to Y/N it was a show; she knew where his feelings lay, and it was nothing but amusing. To everyone with eye sight as clear as day, he'd never liked her, but when in class, when he believes her to be ignorant of his stare or his wagging tail; she has a classmate whisper every move his body makes, and it fuelled her heart all too much.

"It's not quite normal there, unlike here, if anyone decided to walk around with it they'd get humiliated till they're six feet under," Poppy snorted, covering her mouth with the back of her palms.

Locke turned to stare behind him, catching sight of the prince and Nicasia — both pouting miserably (one much too obvious than the other), and at that, he smiled. "Oh you’re right, tails are quite odd aren’t they? More so on a prince,"

Y/N shrugged at that, "It's alright, I do think Cardan makes it quite, charming? He’s always wagging it around like some...was it a cat you called it?"

"Yes a cat," Poppy shook her head positively, "though don't say that out loud, I doubt he's as clueless on mortal knowledge as we think he is."

Locke hummed, a smirk growing on his lips as he kept his eyes trained on his friend, Y/N following suite of his gaze and sultry grinning at the boy from afar, ignoring Nicasia — causing his eyes to widen momentarily, before the scowl found home on his face once more.

"He's never quite liked you has he?" His words were soft against her ear, his lips landing gently beneath her ear-lobes, kissing it tenderly as he kept his eyes trained on his flaring friend — who if one squinted, could perhaps see smoke escape his ears, if they ignored the immense swinging of his tail.

Y/N smiled, a small amount of malice lacing her intentions, "hatred I'd say, though he doesn't think I'm that foolish does he?"

Poppy, who now stared at her feet, hands tugging the grass with a blush coating her tanned features, "he's looked like he wanted to murder Locke."

Y/N snickered, a sickeningly sweet one at that, as she lowly muttered, "it’s all working then, sweetness."

Later on, when Y/N was left with no one to keep her company — as Locke found himself adorning Poppy and Nicasia's presence, alone — she took notice of the emptiness of Locke's home. It was beautiful, nothing as extravagant as Hollow Hall, yet she found herself admiring the interior all the same.

And as her hands traced the designs etched on the walls, as if it were a reminiscence of her first time staring upon them, a deep, and rather annoyed cough fleed her from her thoughts.

she stayed in position, her back facing Cardan and only gripping the knife resting on her waist, "now what would the prince need at a time like this? Should he not be in his humble abode by now?"

"Should you not be with your lover boy? Or is it that you enjoy using people like he does?" His tone was hostile as he spat his words, however the light softness that rippled around it was evident and Y/N couldn't help her lips tugging upwards.

She turned around, staring at him — where he leaned cooly against one of the walls — with squinted eyes, faux contempt present in her stare, and he shifted in his spot at her gaze.

She swiftly walked, her steps careful as to not trip on her dress. And when she reached him, she, boldly, placed her hands on his chest, dragging it downwards firmly — and his thumping heart beneath his rib cage could be faintly heard from the short proximity between them.

Y/N titled her head when he clenched his fists, but found a smile etching on her lips when his eyes were lightly fluttering. "Do I really threaten you that much that your hatred towards me is the only thing that keeps you going? It's pathetic truly, especially for a prince."

Cardan gulped, mind hazy at the contact and his body was supported by his tail, that was wrapped roughly around one of his legs. He could not utter the next words without stroking her ego, and it was then he'd wished — though he'd never admit out loud — that he were mortal, because he needed to lie if not keep his mouth shut.

More so with her trapping him, her knees coming forward and slightly spreading his legs, so that the entirety of his body leaned upon the wall. And despite him towering over her due to one of her legs bending in-front of the other, he could not move, catching sight of the shiny blade securely placed on her hips and her rigid grasp on them.

She had been around a certain mortal for too long, he thought, and at that his sneer was present again.

Y/N gently bit her tongue to stifle the giggle from escaping her, "what, cat's got your tongue?"

His lips were tightly sealed, and though he already knew the effects she displayed were affecting him, greatly, he refused to acknowledge her — especially that any movement could cause his legs to move slightly forward and brush . . .

She shook her head with a light hearted laugh that had his heart beating just a little bit faster, just a little bit. Her hands releasing the grip she had on her blade, before placing it on his cheek and patting him smoothly.

"You're quite humorous you know, would be a shame if you wasted all that energy on 'hating' me when it could be used for something else, you decide, my prince." she said, her tone sensual and low, before gradually stepping away allowing room (only a small amount at that) for the boy before her to breathe, she let one of her fingers crawl delicately on his hollow cheek bones, that though looked sharp, were as soft as anything could be.

Cardan's eyes widened ever so slightly, now registering her words, "are you flirting with me?" He asked. The space between them now slightly obvious, and he hated it — almost as much as he pretends to loathe her.

Y/N raised her brows, crossing her arms in an unlikely childish manner before nodding, "you're quite oblivious you know? Yes."

"Well," the confirmation enabled a smirk to appear on his face, only to be dismissed by her voice, again.

"Well? Is that all? Because I have things to do, and if my offer does not interest you then I'll gladly leave and find another willing volunteer," she purred, ignoring the way his brows harshly and quickly furrowed, creating a crease, "how about Locke? We are reasonably close, and he does not have a tail — which looks a bit foolish, don't you think?"

He was blushing crimson now, red sparklings littering his pale cheeks, but then his lips curled up — however, he does not look as frighting as he's expecting to be, he knew that, especially with her knees still resting between his thighs (which is all he's trying to drift his mind from at the moment).

"I don't see anything off with it, I've been told it makes one interesting. You've spent too much time with mortals and those alike." Cardan's jaw clenched and his chest was rising a lot more than it was a few minutes before.

Y/N pursed her lips, "Well then, show me how interesting one can get." She leaned forward, her breath fanning atop his lips and he found his own hitching.

His eyes were wandering from her eyes, which he secretly adored, to her lips, and he subconsciously nodded, leaning forward.

Only then, her hands rested on his chest, pushing him away slightly and his head came in contact with the wall yet again, and he had to bite his bottom lips in hopes that she had no idea how much he’d needed her, all of her.

Y/N stepped backwards, finally standing straight. Her hands on her side once more and she gave the prince an alluring smile, "I'll see you later, cardan."

He glared at the spot she had been standing in once she’d left, and he knew that it was a silly game she’s playing.

And what is a game if it involves one player?

#the cruel prince #cardan greenbriar #the folk of the air #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #nicasia #jude duarte #vivienne duarte #taryn duarte #cardan greenbriar x reader #holly black #prince cardan #jude x cardan #reader insert #Locke

833 notes · View notes

ibijau · 3 years ago

Note

Here's a prompt: Lan Xichen somehow dies while in seclusion—or at least that's what the rumors say—and Nie Huaisang deals with the consequences. And heartbreak. As the saying goes, you don't realize how much you love someone until they're gone.

Okay, if that sort of plot interests you, do yourself a favour and check Between the Shadow and the Soul which is exactly that. It's an amazing xisang fic, I cannot recommend it warmly enough!

And now:

Warning in this fic for a lot of references to suicide and depression

It struck Nie Huaisang as interesting that he felt so little about the whole thing. His reaction upon learning the news had been first to dismiss it as a joke in poor taste. Once it had been confirmed, and his presence had been required, he'd been too busy planning his trip to give it much thought. Then he'd arrived in the Cloud Recesses, just in time for the funeral, and gone through the motions of what was expected of him. At most he'd felt mildly when asked to keep vigil, as if there was still any connection between them. He'd only agreed for the sake of appearances, refused to look at the body, and gave his seat to the next mourner as soon as was polite.

The ceremony itself was conducted to perfection, as could be expected of the Lans. Every word was said the right way, every gesture graceful. It was almost a beautiful thing to behold, Nie Huaisang distantly thought. Lan Qiren's monotone voice was better suited for such events than for teaching, certainly. And Lan Wangji had always looked his best when in the throes of loss and despair. Sadness just became those Lans a little too well, as if they'd been born for tragedy.

Perhaps they were.

Nie Huaisang did not dwell on the subject, and allowed time to pass him by until at last the ceremony was entirely over. He would have gone home right then if he could have, his duty accomplished, but it would have been noticed and discussed. Nie Huaisang did not want to get mixed up in the gossip that was sure to spread around after this.

“Did they tell anyone what he died of?” Sect Leader Yao asked in a too loud whisper while waiting for the refreshment promised to the guests.

“I've only heard that because of his seclusion, it took them several days to even notice he had passed,” Sect Leader Ouyang replied. Then, noticing Nie Huaisang standing alone nearby, he gestured at him to join them. Nie Huaisang tried to pretend he hadn't seen them, but it was in vain as Sect Leader Ouyang called him by name until he couldn't be ignored anymore. “Join us please! You were his friend, weren't you? Surely you must know more than us.”

It was a sign of the hollowness that had seized Nie Huaisang since learning of the news that he did not laugh. What friends they had been indeed. Once, perhaps... but no, the word would never have been right to describe them. They were acquaintances at best, brought together out of love for Mingjue, torn apart after his death even if Lan Xichen hadn't known it then.

He'd learned it, in time.

Two years earlier, when Nie Huaisang had finally given a proper funeral to his brother, Lan Xichen had tried to talk to him about everything that had happened. Lan Xichen had wanted the truth, and he'd certainly gotten it. Nie Huaisang, bitter and angry and broken after going through the pain of burying his brother again, had not spared the other man a single detail of everything he'd done, everything he'd learned, everything he'd felt.

Two weeks after that, Lan Xichen had entered seclusion and they'd never met again, unless one counted what little time Nie Huaisang had spent with the other man's coffin.

Nie Huaisang did not think it counted.

“I have not been told anything more than anyone else,” Nie Huaisang said, more careful than the other two to keep his voice down.

“It is just too odd,” Sect Leader Yao said. “A man his age doesn't die without reason, and his cultivation was far too great to allow for sickness!”

“Surely I don't know what Yao-zongzhu might be suggesting.”

“I am just saying it is very odd,” Sect Leader Yao insisted, glancing toward Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji with what he had to consider a knowing expression.

“Ah,” Nie Huaisang said.

They were thinking Lan Xichen had been murdered, then.

It was amazing, he thought, that anyone could misunderstand Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji this much. Perhaps the second's reputation was no longer as pristine as it had once been, due to his open association with the Yiling Patriarch, but he could hardly have been accused of killing his brother when he profited so little from his death. It was to Lan Qiren that the title of Sect Leader went, something which had been decided long ago, and which Lan Wangji would have known. Not that Lan Wangji would ever have wanted such a title. And as to accusing Lan Qiren of murdering his nephew, it was ridiculous. There were few men in the world whose honour Nie Huaisang believed in, but Lan Qiren was definitely of the number.

If it was not an ordinary sickness that had killed Lan Xichen, and it was not another person either, then it left only one option.

The Lans tended to easily fall prey to melancholy, Lan Xichen had once told Nie Huaisang, during one of those rare true and sincere conversations between them, when they had both bared more of their soul to the other than they'd intended. And that melancholy was a powerful sort, Lan Xichen had explained, more dangerous than any disease, any war, any demon. The way he had spoken of it had made it clear that Lan Xichen himself particularly struggled with it ever since becoming Sect Leader during the war, a struggle he hid under a mask no less carefully crafted than Nie Huaisang’s. Lan Xichen had told him he thought that melancholy would overcome him someday as it had done others in his family, an affliction no less powerful than that the Nie suffered.

So it was clear to Nie Huaisang that the manner of Lan Xichen's death was...

His whole body shook as he hurriedly fought to contain a sob.

“Nie-zongzhu?” Sect Leader Ouyang said with concern. “Are you unwell?”

Nie Huaisang shook his head. He was fine. He was unaffected. They'd never even been close.

Another sob had to be contained.

Nie Huaisang took a deep breath, and smiled weakly.

“Nothing dramatic,” he said with a voice he scarcely recognised as his own. “A moment of... I have known him for so long.”

“Of course. This must be hard on you. He must have been like a brother to you.”

Nie Huaisang made a noise. A sob, or a laugh, he could not have said, but it was too loud and attracted more attention than he cared to deal with. Having spent the last couple of years carefully working to undo the damage he had done to his own reputation, Nie Huaisang could not have born to be seen crying in public, something he now felt the danger of. He muttered some vague apology to the two men standing near him, and excused himself from the assembly. He managed to keep himself in check until he had left everyone behind, and only broke into tears when he was sure to be alone.

Gone was the numbness that had so puzzled him since hearing that Lan Xichen had been found dead, because the full horror of that loss finally hit him.

Lan Xichen was gone.

Lan Xichen was dead.

He would never again come by the Unclean Realm in answer to a desperate plea for help that never really needed his input. There would be no more praises of Nie Huaisang's birds, his fans, his paintings. No more gentle comforting and undeserved patience.

Lan Xichen was dead.

And if Nie Huaisang had acted with less cruelty, Lan Xichen might not have killed himself.

Nie Huaisang, a month after returning home, wondered whether melancholy was a contagious ailment, and whether one might catch it from sitting near the corpse of a man who had died from it.

He made the mistake of asking Nie Liyan, his favourite cousin and heir, expecting her to laugh or tease him. Instead she gave him a most pitiful look, and told him that melancholy was most often caught in such a manner, especially if the corpse was that of a person held dear.

It had never occurred to Nie Huaisang to think that Lan Xichen might be dear to him. The man was merely there, full of good intentions and blind to the nature of those around him. They had shared pleasant moments together perhaps, but no more than Nie Huaisang had done with others. In fact, Nie Huaisang was quite sure he had laughed more with Jin Guangyao than with Lan Xichen. If asked, he might have admitted that he'd held warmer feelings than he ought to have toward the man who had so cruelly murdered his brother. But Lan Xichen?

Nie Huaisang would have been hard pressed to decide what he felt for the man while he was alive. Only in death was he forced to realise that Lan Xichen too had been an important figure in his life and, yes, perhaps dearer than he would have liked. But it was hard to hate a man such as Lan Xichen, he told Nie Liyan when the realisation became too bothersome to bear it alone. Nie Huaisang simply could not imagine that anyone in the world might have met Lan Xichen and not liked him.

“I've never understood what people saw in him,” Nie Liyan had just replied. “And I've told you as much many times, even before your brother's death. His looks were good but not to the degree everyone claimed, he smiled too much, and he spoke too much like a book.”

“That says more about your tastes than about his qualities,” Nie Huaisang retorted hotly.

“Perhaps. Or it says something about your tastes.”

That insolent answer had not pleasant Nie Huaisang, who had promptly changed the topic, and never breached it again with her.

The melancholy did not ease with time, but instead invited some friends to live with it in Nie Huaisang's heart.

Such as a sharp terror over the concept of his own mortality.

Nie Huaisang had always known he would die early. It ran in the family, and he'd seen it happen twice already to his own relative. Considering his own temper, his weak and unstable cultivation, Nie Huaisang had long feared that he would not even live long enough to see his brother avenged. This had made him frustrated with the slow pace he'd been forced to endure, which in turn had only had a worse effect on his general state. Things had improved after the death of Jin Guangyao, making Nie Huaisang hope he might perhaps make it to the venerable age of forty, something neither his brother nor his father had managed.

The death of Lan Xichen robbed him of that hope.

It was only, Nie Huaisang told himself, that the loss had reminded him people died of reasons other than familial curses or to pay the price of their hubris. Death, even for cultivators, was not an uncommon occurrence, so no man could leave his bed in the morning and be certain he would return to it at night. And if he were to die now, what would he have to show for it except a sect that still wouldn’t be treated seriously, and the blood on his hands?

That consideration was also an important one in making a decision. No matter how hard he tried, Nie Huaisang couldn’t seem to correct the reputation he had given his sect. When people talked about the changes happening in Qinghe Nie, the way it might has started to become reliable once more, they always felt the need to point out that it could be nothing more than a stroke of luck, something that was sure to return to normal very soon under Nie Huaisang’s poor guidance. It was a source of great annoyance to him that people now considered it normal for Qinghe Nie to be weak and useless, when not twenty years earlier it had been greater than Lanling Jin.

It would take a dramatic change for people to accept that Qinghe Nie was returning to its roots.

So Nie Huaisang told Nie Liyan that he would abdicate in her favour.

She was more than ready for this, he told her. They had been working in tandem since long before the death of Jin Guangyao, and she had proven multiple times that she would handle the position of Sect Leader better than he ever would. She was a good administrator, with great martial art skill, a cultivation level that was among the best in their generation. She was also an excellent teacher, and well liked by all the disciples, from young juniors who had never known their sect’s glorious days to elders who’d known Nie Huaisang’s father as a young child. Nie Huaisang and Nie Liyan had always agreed that she would succeed him if he died the way his family so often did, or whenever he would decide to give up on a position he had never wanted.

“Are you sure now is the right time?” Nie Liyan only asked him.

“There is no right time for these things. But Lanling Jin is still not quite stable yet, Gusu Lan is in the hands of an old friend, and Yunmeng Jiang is caught up in the Jins’ business. That means the three great sects won’t give you a hard time as you settle in, and I know you can handle the others.”

“And what will you do?”

“Travel, perhaps,” Nie Huaisang replied without conviction.

He had never planned for what he would do after handing her his title, and realised suddenly that he’d never expected to be alive for that. No matter how often they discussed the possibility of a quiet succession, Nie Huaisang had never really considered he would be luckier than his father and brother. Yet there he was, suddenly forced to accept that tomorrow was something that existed for him while also dreading the uncertainty of his own mortality.

Nie Liyan accepted his answer, and they set out to plan the succession, calculate the best possible date for it, and choose how to announce the news to other sects. They did not talk about Nie Huaisang’s future any further, for which he was grateful. He had a vague suspicion that Nie Liyan thought he intended to kill himself, which would explain why she kept suggesting he took a companion with him when he left.

Nie Huaisang promised to consider it. He even did wonder who in the world might be a travelling companion worth putting up with. Nobody from his own sect would do, as he thought they would quickly grow bored of any destination that might appeal to him. And there was no one left outside of Qinghe Nie who he felt close enough to. It was only a pity, he thought one night, that Lan Xichen had passed away, as he would have been a very interesting person to have on a journey. Someone who shared his sense of beauty and his love of great landscape, who would not complain if Nie Huaisang asked to stop and paint but might instead join him. And perhaps travelling in that manner might have lifted some of Lan Xichen’s melancholy in a way that locking himself up away from the world could never have done.

Perhaps it could have saved Lan Xichen.

Nie Huaisang slept little that night, half drowning on sorrows and what-if that could never come true.

Come morning, he told Nie Liyan that he would travel alone, and she did not insist.

Nie Huaisang left the Unclean Realm as soon as the succession ceremony was over so he wouldn’t have a chance to change his mind. He recently bought an excellent horse, and the animal was packed with whatever belongings could not be put inside a qiankun pouch. Nie Huaisang had money, he had clothes, everything needed to paint and write. He even had a destination in mind at last, one suggested to him by Lan Qiren, of all people. The old teacher, upon learning of his intention to step down, had written him a thoughtful letter wishing him the best of luck in his new life, inviting him to come and stay in the Cloud Recesses if he ever went that way so they might play weiqi together, and suggesting he should go visit Baidi in his exile, where he too might become inspired to write some poetry. Perhaps, Lan Qiren added, a place so rich in history would help him find new meaning to his life.

The idea had something romantic to it. More than that, though, Nie Huaisang remembered that several times over the course of their acquaintance, Lan Xichen had expressed a wish to visit the city, while always failing to find an excuse to do so. It seemed appropriate that Nie Huaisang’s first destination should be inspired by the man whose death had forced him to reconsider his own life.

So Nie Huaisang set out toward Baidi, and promised himself to enjoy his time there, for Lan Xichen’s sake as well as his own.

#nie huaisang #lan xichen #xisang #I guess? I mean it was the original intention but then things didn't go as planned #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes

56 notes · View notes

eryiss · 4 years ago

Text

Fraxus Week 2020: Day 3 - Losing Control

Summary: After a crappy post-college first year, Laxus jumped at the opportunity to leave town for a week for a road trip with his friends. He intended it just to be a week away with his friends, but when he meets an unfamiliar stranger, the vacation turns into something much more. [Fraxus Multichapter]

This is the third part of my Fraxus Week admissions, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus. This year I’ve made the prompts into a single multi-chapter fic. You can see all the chapters in the Masterpost linked below. Hope you enjoy.

You can read this on Fanfiction, Archive of our Own, and under the cut. Read the other chapters from this masterlist.

Chapter Three – A Small Diversion

Laxus hadn't expected to enjoy driving the RV as much as he did. He thought it would have been a lot heavier, more susceptible to the wind of the open highway, but it was actually quite pleasant a vehicle. Well, it could be pleasant. The pleasantness was slightly affected when, out of nowhere, a strong hand slammed onto his shoulder with overexcited glee, and then another hand interrupted his vision while pointing to a billboard.

"We have to go!" Bickslow exclaimed. "We just have to."

"Go where?" Evergreen asked from her seat in the van.

"To the largest and most splish-splashiest waterpark in this and the surrounding states," Bickslow almost yelled as he read off the billboard. "Now fixed with a wave pool, lazy river and two new splashtastic waterslides that are a thrill ride for the whole family."

"You sound like a poorly produced radio advert," Freed commented from the passenger side seat, smiling. "Also, I don't think any of us packed swimsuits."

"There's a town right before the park," Bickslow said with glee, and it was clear that he had set his mind on the idea and it would take a lot to convince him otherwise. Laxus wouldn't have been shocked if Bickslow had planned it out beforehand. "They'll have a clothing store with swimsuits, right? It's be weird if they didn't. Come on babies, we have to go!"

"That actually sounds quite nice," Evergreen commented, flicking through her phone. "It'll be nice to get out of here for more than the length of a meal. And it's not like we have to rush to the canyon and back."

"Are you sure?" Freed asked. "I thought Laxus worked, you probably only had a limited time off."

"I claimed two weeks," Laxus shrugged. "Knew we might get distracted, and I was planning on working on some shit around the house before I went back to the office, so I'm not worried about time."

"So we can go!" Bickslow cheered.

Laxus grinned a little at the mans near childlike enthusiasm, and then glanced towards the large billboard to see which exit he would need to leave at. He too was looking forward to spending some time out of the RV where they wouldn't be in a coffee shop, fast food place or a diner. Despite the fact they had only been on the road for three days, Laxus had wanted more than a rushed hour of eating crappy food out of the truck. Even if it was just an afternoon at a water park, that was better than stretching his legs in a parking lot.

It took him a moment to realise that Bickslow hadn't removed his hand from his shoulder, and Laxus frowned a little. When he glanced to the man behind him he saw him grinning wide at him, and Laxus suddenly felt quite unnerved.

"Just thought it fair to warn ya," Bickslow began again, his voice quieter now. "Freed swims as part of his work out. He wears a speedo, and I know from experience that he's one of the guys who can pull it off. So have fun with that."

Bickslow patted his shoulder firmly, and Laxus spent the drive into the next town trying desperately not to think about it.

Mercifully the drive wasn't that long, and they soon found themselves in a sports clothing store that boasted a wide range of swimwear. Another mercy for Laxus' sanity came from when he caught Freed picking out a pair of swimming shorts, meaning the blonde wouldn't be tormented by the sight of the man in nothing but tight spandex. When he diverted his gaze from the man, he saw Bickslow grinning at him, and he started to wonder how easy it would be to leave the guy at the roadside. He doubted that Freed or Ever would have any complaints.

When they entered the water park itself, Laxus was thankfully distracted. The place was a lot more impressive than Laxus had expected, with multiple waterslides coming from a central 'volcano'. There were many simple pools bordering the more exciting parts, a large river with people lounging on inflatables, and even a floating obstacle course that would have looked perfectly in place in some kind of game show. There was multiple food outlets and seating areas scattered through the premises. The fact that schools were still open meant that it was relatively empty as well, meaning the crowds that Laxus had been expecting didn't exist.

It had earned its title as the best and most splish-splashiest water park in the area. Laxus hated that he remembered the damn slogan.

"Well, since you boring bastards are probably gonna take for ever to do something fun, I'm gonna guess I'm going up the slide alone for now," Bickslow grinned, tugging his shirt over his head. "See ya later, kids."

Laxus shook his head slightly as he followed Evergreen and Freed towards one of the seating areas where they had both chairs and sun loungers.

"I bet you that he planned this," Freed commented, stepping in line with Laxus.

"I don't take bets I know I can't win," Laxus grinned, watching as his friend ran towards the plastic volcano. "Honestly, wouldn't be shocked if this was the only reason he wanted to go on the road trip at all. Going to the canyon is just an excuse."

"Perhaps," Freed chuckled. "I wouldn't mind if that's the case, I'm enjoying myself either way."

In a weird way, Laxus was glad to hear it. It wasn't as if he had to look after Freed; if he was anyone's responsibility, he would be Bickslow's. But after finding out that he had recently gotten out of a relationship that he'd been in for months, according to Bickslow, it was nice to know that he was enjoying himself. At the thought, Laxus had to wonder if that might have been the reason why they were at the water park. To give them all a day of stupid childish fun where they could forget about their problems.

Or maybe Bickslow just wanted to go on a slide called the Spine Snapper. Was that appropriate for a kid's ride?

Evergreen had quickly pulled a sun lounger close to a table, and was applying sun screen to herself. Freed had taken a seat at the table, under the shade of a large umbrella, and had opened the book he'd been reading on and off throughout the trip. Laxus took a seat adjacent to him, sliding in his headphones and reclining in the chair, allowing the warm sun to hit his face. He'd get in the water eventually, but at that moment he just wanted to relax.

Hopefully, he wouldn't fall asleep. Sharing a small double bed with Bickslow had given him less sleep that sleeping in a chair on his own.

He closed his eyes and placed his arms behind his neck, resting on them in quiet content. He had gone to place like this as a child with his grandfather, and had always greatly enjoyed them. And as different as the place seemed when he was an adult and couldn't run around like an idiot – unlike Bickslow – it was a weirdly nostalgic moment. It was nice to relax for a while, and not worry about the future as he had been doing for months.

"The heats starting to get too much," Freed commented after a while, and Laxus looked towards him. "I think I'm going to swim for a while to cool off."

The moment Freed looked to remove the billowy white shirt he wore, Laxus averted his eyes. He knew it was completely pointless, they planned to be at the park all day and there was no way he could last the whole time without seeing him shirtless, but at least he could stop himself from seeing the man undress.

"Have fun," Evergreen said with a bored tone, looking over her sunglasses.

"Try to look out for Bickslow," Laxus said with a grin, still keeping his eyes away from Freed. "He'll somehow fly out of a slide and land on ya if you're not careful."

"Oh don't worry, I'm always cautious of flying Bickslows," Freed said with a laugh before walking away.

Laxus shot a glance at his retreating form again. The musculature of his back and the firmness of his legs were really hot, and Laxus had to look away to stop himself from gawking. He knew that the man had some muscle on him, but he hadn't quite expected that much. The blonde almost regretted not looking at the front of his torso when he was undressing.

From the sound of shifting water, Freed had chosen to populate a pool near them. Laxus made sure to look down at his phone, scrolling down his playlist for something to do. He was unaware of Evergreen rolling her eyes at him from behind her glasses.

For a while, Laxus managed to distract himself with his phone or staring absently anywhere that wasn't near Freed. But eventually, when he realised that Freed was swimming lengths of the pool he was in, Laxus found his resolve fading slightly. He was elegantly vicious as he swam, speeding from side to side of the large pool with powerful stroke that highlighted his strong arms and legs. Laxus found himself temporarily unable to look away, and was only distracted when Freed reached the end of the pool and went to turn back. He would clearly see Laxus staring at him when he came up for air, and it wouldn't be easy to explain why.

"I'm gonna get a drink," Laxus said suddenly, standing up and looking to Evergreen. "You want anything."

"Ice tea if they have it, water if they don't," Evergreen requested.

Laxus nodded and turned tail quickly, walking to the nearest snack bar. He relayed his order to the vendor, who quickly got to work getting what he wanted. Laxus absently tapped his fingers on the top of the counter, trying to distract himself from the fact his crush was swimming beautifully behind him and had no idea the effect he was having on Laxus.

He couldn't even understand it himself.

Sure, Laxus had always been dominated by his feelings. It was what had fuelled his rebellious and angst-ridden teenage years – well, that and his crappy relationship with his equally crappy father – but this was somewhat abnormal. Laxus got crushes relatively often, and it hadn't been as intense as this before. And he couldn't explain it by saying it was because he was trapped with the man, because Laxus' crush on his college roommate had been gone in a day. Nor could he blame it on the fact the man was swimming, because Laxus often found guys at the gym hot and he'd endured a communal shower with a few of them, and hadn't been this awkward.

He was quickly losing control of this crush, and it needed to stop.

Because a relationship was probably the last thing Freed wanted right now. Bickslow had been vague about what Freed's relationship had been like, but said it had started before Christmas, meaning it had been lasted almost half a year. Having a break up after that long would leave some kind of an affect, and Bickslow had stated Freed closed himself off emotionally. He probably wanted time to heal, and friends to be around.

"That's four fifty, sir," The person behind the counter requested. Laxus handed him the money, still deep in through.

He just needed to be there for Freed as much as a friend of a friend could be. They would joke, have fun together, and hopefully become friends. That was all Laxus needed to do to keep control of everything.

That promise lasted the exact amount of time it took for Laxus to return to the table.

He happened to glance towards the pool, and fate decided to be a dick to him. Because Freed had not only stopped swimming, but had also just finished dunking his head in the water. He was now standing waist deep in the water, facing towards Laxus and giving him an unhindered view of his strong, mouth-watering body. Water was glinting in the sun as it dripped down his toned stomach, and his hair was plastered to his back. He had his eyes closed and looked deeply content, and Laxus felt his breath catch in his throat.

The entire situation was a slow-motion effect and sensual music away from being a damn made for tv movie. Laxus had even froze so the drink he was placing on the table was hovering an inch above it.

"I don't know why you just don't talk to him," Evergreen said, snapping Laxus out of his trance. "Flirt with him. Nobody's as pretty as you and doesn't know how to make good use of it."

"What?" Laxus frowned, looking to Evergreen. She's removed her sunglasses and was giving him an unimpressed look.

"You've been mooning over him since you saw him," Evergreen continued. "Why don't you actually try and do something about it instead of driving yourself crazy gawping at him."

"I haven't," Laxus said indignantly. Evergreen didn't even try to hide her disbelief at that. After a moment, Laxus spoke again in a mutter. "Has he noticed?"

"No," Evergreen said passively. "He's too cocky not to have flirted back if he knew. Which is why I'm telling you to make the first move. You'd be good together."

"He just got out of a relationship," Laxus said with a slight sigh.

"He's not a wounded little bird Laxus. He's a grown man," Evergreen said, and her tone was almost comforting. "And more importantly, so are you. His old boyfriend… I don't even know why they were together at the end. Or at the start, really. The two of you have a lot in common, a lot more than you'd think. You're similar enough to get along, but you're not clones of each other. Honestly, I think you'd be a good couple, so why not go for it?"

"It's just a crush," Laxus shrugged.

"Which is what you always say," Evergreen persisted, sighing. "You're never going to have anything other than a crush if you don't let yourself act on something. And Freed's the perfect guy to do it with," Laxus didn't say anything. "Just think about it. Oh, and the human torpedo's coming, so prepare yourself."

Laxus looked towards where Evergreen was now looking, to see Bickslow jogging towards them with something in his hand. He gestured for Freed to follow him, which the other man did, as he approached the table. He was panting, red faced and grinning even wider than usual.

"That was kick ass!" He proclaimed loudly. "It's terrifying, you have to do it. Look."

He placed the thing in his hand on the table, and showed it to be a picture similar to those you'd get from an amusement park. It contained Bickslow sliding down a multicoloured tube, with a face that could only be described as a mixture of terror and exhilaration. The fact that he looked at all scared was impressive to Laxus, given how much of a thrill seeker Bickslow could be. Maybe the ride had earned its imposing name.

Laxus' train of thought left him when a gentle chuckle could be heard behind him.

Freed was standing behind him. Freed was half naked, dripping wet, and looking over his shoulder. Laxus couldn't help but tense slightly, hoping to god that the man didn't notice. He did see Bickslow grinning at him, so he wasn't being as subtle as he wanted, but Freed seemed to be too interested in the picture to pay attention to him.

"If it scared you that much, I don't think it's likely you'll get any of us on it," Freed said with a grin.

"Aw, you three ain't just gonna sit here and be boring all day. The two of you ain't even wet yet," Bickslow pouted at Laxus and Evergreen. "You have to do something fun."

"I was actually thinking of going on that," Freed said, motioning to the inflatable obstacle course floating on the largest pool. "I thought one of you might want to race me, to make it a little interesting. Though, I doubt that Laxus would."

Laxus turned towards the man with an expression of shock, and was met with a challenging gaze. It was a good look on the man.

"Why wouldn't I wanna race ya?"

"Well, as you said earlier, you don't get involved in a bet that you can't win," Freed said as if it were obvious, and the cockiness of the man practically radiated off him. He was also crossing his arms, which highlighted the size and refinement of his biceps. A rather unfair tactic, even if not intentional.

"You think I can't beat ya?" Laxus said incredulously.

"I don't think you have a chance," Freed smirked.

"Well, you wanna make this serious then we can make this serious," Laxus said with an equally confident grin. "We race. The loser has to go on that back breaker ride-"

"Spine Snapper," Bickslow corrected.

"Spine Snapper," Laxus amended, not looking away from Freed. "The loser has to go on that, buy the picture and make it the icon of all their socials, as well as the lock screen picture on their phone for the rest of summer," Laxus shot out a hand for Freed to shake. "Deal?"

"It's your dignity, you can lose it however you please," Freed said with a grin, shaking Laxus hand with enough strength to send a thrill down his spine.

He couldn't focus on that, as Freed had darted towards the floating course. Laxus followed after him, leaving their friends to watch in equal amusement and tiredness.

~~~

It had been a good day, Laxus thought.

Though it might have started off rocky, with Laxus feeling as though his crush was starting to affect his budding friendship with Freed, it had gotten better as the day went on. Particularly good was when Laxus had proven Freed wrong in his assumption that he couldn't win the race on the obstacle course. It was incredibly satisfying to sit over him and watch as he changed all his social media icons to a picture of him yelling while going down the incredibly steep water slide.

That had seemed to break any ice between them, and the rest of the day had been spent having an easy and fun time together. They'd eaten, laughed, and at one point thrown Evergreen into the wave pool against her will; she had gotten back at Bickslow, the ringleader of the prank, by pouring ice cubes down the back of his shorts. It was child like fun, and Laxus felt like he needed it.

They had only left the water park when the sun had started to set. That had been a few hours ago, and they were back on the road again. It was pitch black now, the only light coming from the headlights of the truck and the few spotlights inside of it.

For quite a while now, Laxus was the only one awake.

Bickslow had been the first to go, falling asleep in the passenger seat and snoring gently. Evergreen was next, curling up on the bed despite Laxus' insistence that she not lie on it while they were moving. Freed was last, resting on his arms while leaning on the table, headphones plugged into his ears.

Laxus was quite enjoying the quiet of both the road and the RV. As much as he enjoyed spending time with his friends, they were all quite large personalities, and it was nice being able to sit in the quiet after the loud day he'd had. The fact that he could see the stars out of his windscreen was an added extra.

As the night went on, and Laxus found himself getting tired, he found a small truck stop that would allow for overnight parking. He pulled off the highway and into the parking lot, switching the engine off.

He was met with a sound that bordered on breathing and snoring. He looked over his shoulder and saw Freed was the source. He grinned a little.

Moving around the RV with as much cautious as he could, he made sure to lock all the doors and close and bolt all the windows. Then, once done, he gently shook Freed's shoulder to wake him up, but to no avail. He tried a few more times, but the man seemed unwilling to wake up. With a soft smile, Laxus carefully shifted his position so he was crouching. He cautiously hooked his arm under Freed's legs and lifted him up, the sleeping man showing no sign of waking.

He slowly moved him to the double bed, placing him beside Evergreen and resting his head on the pillow. After carefully sliding the covers over the two sleeping people, he gently ran a knuckle down his cheek. His skin was shocking soft.

Instead of lingering on the gesture he had done, he got to work on making the table booth into a makeshift bed. He picked up the travel pillow and tattered blanket and curled up into the bed, closing his eyes and letting the tiredness of the day overtake him. Lacking the energy to fight it, his mind supplied him with many images of Freed through the day, ending on him sleeping.

He definitely had lost control of his crush.

#Fraxus Week #Fraxus Week 2020 #Fraxus #Freed Justine #Laxus Dreyar #fairy tail #fanfic #writing #event #multichapter #Modern AU

18 notes · View notes