Tumgik
#and how he arranges those chairs depends entirely on how much he feels like showing off at the moment
pastafossa · 1 year
Note
Just....for the record... when you said Matt was stating on precariously balanced chairs this is where my brain went and I just need you to know that.
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You should feel good about this because this is EXACTLY the sort of Matt showing off, balancing on the chairs just to show he CAN as he smugly places the Christmas gift in the rafters scene that I was picturing in my head when I wrote that part. 😂😂😂
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pokemoncreepypasta · 3 years
Text
Tommy Boy
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[STORY SOURCE]
It was one of those sleepovers, just me and my bestie, when we got bored and had a dumb idea. Well, she got the brilliant idea anyways.
Apparently, she thought it would be “fun” to try and perform one of those summoning rituals, even though she knew anything and everything paranormal gave me nightmares for weeks. Which is why I think she wanted to do it so bad.
Of course, I wouldn’t willingly go along with the ritual, so my friend had to persuade me by offering her Darkrai plushie which I had coveted for a few weeks now. I remember wondering if the risk of eternal damnation was worth it for just a toy...
Apparently the answer was yes, since I eventually went along with this freaking idea.
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The requirement for the ritual was paper, pencil, a candle, 6 random dolls, and 60 minutes of your time.
It had to be in a dark house, or in the middle of the night. We did it around midnight, after everyone else was asleep.
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The first step was to put the 6 dolls in a circle.
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Then draw a summoning circle on the middle of the paper and put it in the center of the circle of dolls.
After placing it on the floor, recite, “Any entity, you may enter.”
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Wait for a while, around a minute, then prick your finger and put your bloody fingerprint in the middle of the summoning circle.
Recite, “By blood we are bound.”
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You then turn off all the lights, if any are still left on, then light your candle and recite, “Whomever loses may never leave.”
Afterwards, you stumble around in the dark and play hide-and-seek with whatever you just summoned, if you even successfully summoned anything.
You must switch the room you’re hiding in every 10 minutes or else you will automatically be found by default. If you candle doesn’t blow out within and hour, then you win, and allegedly whatever spirit you summoned will be bound to your eternal service.
If it does blow out, then you’ve been found and you lose. Whatever happens afterwards depends on whatever spirit, peaceful or malevolent, that you summoned.
While me and my friend were huddled in the laundry room whispering and giggling about stupid things, the candle flickered out. I promptly flipped and hid in the corner with my hands over my head waiting for the worst to happen, while my friend laughed at pathetic little me.
After about five minutes of trying to convince me I wasn’t going to die, she told me she had blown out the candle herself. That made me feel a little better, even thought I still didn’t believe it.
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Though, the Darkrai plushie I received the next day helped wash my worries away.
Though it wasn’t enough to wash away everything else that was about to happen.
Later on that day after my friend left, my little sister had begged me to let her play my Pokémon Emerald. I let her, since all she did was pretty much give free training to my Pokémon.
I was watching TV, and was a bit peeved when she ran into the room and started nagging me about a green Trapinch, so I waved her off. It took me a few seconds before I realized my grave mistake, so I quickly snatched my GameBoy back.
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I was pleasantly surprised to see my sis had somehow managed to find a shiny Trapinch.
I told her to back off and let me handle this, since I wasn’t about to let her try to catch it. Although, things looked bad as my Pokémon were all too strong to weaken it.
But I was feeling confident with over 40 Ultra Balls in stock along with a few backups, so I kept throwing and throwing until one of them worked.
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The trouble was, this stubborn Trapinch didn’t want me as its trainer. 
I might not have been able to weaken it, but it still chewed through nearly every one of my PokéBalls.
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I was awash with horror at the thought of failing my first ever shiny. That’s when my sister offered to catch it for me.
I didn’t want to hand it over to her, but then my mind rationalized it by thinking that if she failed it, losing the Trapinch would be her fault, not mine.
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I was shocked again as she handed me back the GameBoy less than a minute later with a brand new shiny Trapinch in my party named Tommy Boy.
The only response I could think of at first was, “Tommy Boy? Why name it that?”
“Because, it’s a boy and I wanted to name it Tommy, so Tommy Boy!”
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I didn’t even want to know what went on in my sister’s head, but I quickly stopped caring and all I could do was just stare at my newfound shiny.
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I went to immediately test him out and see what he could do against a wild Sandshrew.
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“Tommy Boy refuses to attack!” 
I tried to fight, but I got this refusal instead. I tried to attack the Sandshrew again, but I just kept getting the same message.
“This is a load of crap.”
“Oh, I can make him attack!” My sister stole the GameBoy back and then proceeded to defeat the Sandshrew with no further issue.
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“What the... How did you do that?!” My sister gave me a stupid grin, “He listened to me because I’m his mommy!” Sure, whatever, I thought privately to myself.
I was happy to let her train this Trapinch into a Flygon for me, anyway. I was puzzled by its behavior, to say the very least, and decided not asking anything would be better for my health and just kept watching TV.
I thought she would grow bored of training the Pokémon, but no. For the rest of the day and deep into the night, she worked tirelessly to gain experience for Tommy Boy. I wondered how someone could stand training the same Pokémon for so many hours without getting bored at all.
Finally, around 11 PM, she had to go to bed. Unwillingly, she saved the game and turned it off, but not before saying good night to Tommy Boy and kissing the GameBoy goodnight.
I was still allowed to stay up longer, so as soon as she was in bed, I quietly grabbed my GameBoy out from under her bed sheets. Emerald was already in, so I simply switched the game on.
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Once the game was loaded, I saw that Tommy Boy was the only one in the party, for some reason.
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But he was already evolved into a Flygon, and at level 66. Too bad she only had interest in training Tommy Boy, so much that she decided to stuff all my other team members in the PC.
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I started to leave the desert where my sister had last saved when I ran into a wild Baltoy. I lovingly sighed as Tommy Boy came out sparkling. Then, my expression became a bit more serious.
That freaking pixel better listen to me this time.
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I clicked on “Fight”. He had new moves: Crunch, DragonBreath, Sandstorm, and Hyper Beam.
I selected Hyper Beam, and desperately hoped that he would obey. I held my breath.
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“Tommy Boy refuses to attack!”
“Dang it!!” I yelled at the screen.
Tommy Boy got hit with and attack, which didn’t do too much damage. I kept cursing at the Pokémon. I couldn’t believe I had a shiny in the palm of my hands and it wouldn’t even listen to me!
I selected DragonBreath, despite knowing he wouldn’t obey anyways.
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“Tommy Boy wants his mommy!”
I gawked at this line of text. I surely hadn’t seen any Pokémon do that before. I almost wanted to laugh, the way that line was written almost sounded funny, but I was off-put and confused. Tommy Boy got hit with another attack.
“Come on, can’t you at least show some pity for your aunt?!” I spoke aloud to the game, like my sister had started doing. Tommy Boy offered me no pity and kept refusing. I didn’t want to deal with him getting knocked out, so I just turned the game off and begrudgingly went to bed.
The next morning, I found my little sister leaning back in a chair contentedly playing the GameBoy. I realized she snatched it from my room while I was asleep, which I guess was an equal exchange. I asked her if anything weird was happening with the GameBoy, but she said all was fine.
Then she asked me why I was playing on the GameBoy last night.
“Uhh... because it’s my game? I should still be able to play it too.”
She eyed me. “Just don’t mess with Tommy Boy again. Just because you’re his aunt doesn’t mean he likes you.”
She immediately changed her threatening disposition by cheerily calling out, “Oh, good boy, Tommy! You showed that Sandshrew! You make mommy so proud!”
I decided to shrug it off. I wasn’t about to get into an argument with my sister about a video game.
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A few days into this, I was over her shoulder watching her play.
She was in the desert, and kept battling the Pokémon there over and over again. Tommy Boy acted like a normal Pokémon, and did nothing unusal.
“Why do you only battle Pokémon in the desert?” “Because, Tommy Boy only likes to battle Pokémon here.” She kept playing, as if everything was normal. After a moment, I thought of another question, “Why will he only obey you and not me?” “I told you, he’ll only listen to his mommy.” “It’s my game he’s on, so I should be his mommy, shouldn’t I? How does he know YOU’RE his mommy?” My sister paused for a moment. After a minute she responded, “Tommy Boy says screw you.” She giggled, while I gave up and left, fuming.
However, days turned into weeks, and my sister had been spending our entire vacation so far just sitting in her room. Apparently, she had started neglecting to eat or drink anything, and would only ever fall asleep when she passed out, GameBoy still in her hands.
It started getting so bad that my mom told me at one point she threw up blood. We’d tried taking the game way from her, but she’d screech at us like she was possessed and tear the whole house apart trying to find it.
Mom said they were arranging for her to see a therapist and get an opinion on what the heck we should do, but for the meantime she was allowed to keep the game, to make things easier for everyone until getting an appointment.
But I wasn’t satisfied with that. I needed to intervene.
One night, I decided to work up the nerve to confront her about her addiction. I found her in her room, as always. She was on the bed with the covers over her head. One would think she was sleeping, but the quiet sounds of the GameBoy gave her away.
I pulled the sheets away from her and she hissed briefly at me before continuing with her eyes glued to the screen. I hardly recognized my happy-go-lucky sister. She looked half dead. I tried holding a conversation with her, but all I got were distant “Mm-hm”s and “It’s fine.” The only way I could get her to talk to me was to attempt to take the game away, to which she immediately responded.
“NO! He’s my baby!!! He NEEDS me!” My sister screeched at me. 
“IT is an inanimate object! It doesn’t NEED anything!” I yelled back at her, clutching her arm that was holding the GameBoy. I managed to rip the Emerald cartridge out of the game while it was still running, causing it to let out horrible screeching sounds. I then pretended to throw it out an open window into the darkness outside of our house, to which my sister immediately pushed me onto the floor and jumped out into the yard after it. 
Picking myself up, I noticed she had dropped my GameBoy, too, so I discreetly plopped the game back into the system and stuffed it into my pocket.
I spitefully closed the window behind my sister. She could come back inside once she realized what this game was doing to her.
What... WAS this game doing to her, I wondered?
Once my sister had collapsed from exhaustion and been carried back to bed by my confused dad (to whom I lyingly explained I had no involvement in this), I decided I would find out for myself.
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When I booted up the game, I was in the middle of my secret base in Route 120.
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I checked my party to find only Tommy Boy, at a whopping level 100. Since it hand only taken her a day to get him to level 66, she must’ve reached 100 long ago, but she’d still been playing this all month.
Was she seriously doing the same battles over and over, despite him not being able to go any higher...?
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When I exited the party screen and was back in the base though, a circle of six Pokédolls were around me that I hadn’t noticed before, which quite frankly creeped me out.
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When I tried to move, a text box popped up saying, “Any entity may enter.”
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“By blood we are bound.”
A strange red circle appeared in the middle of the circle of dolls, and I quickly realized I didn’t want anything to do with whatever was about to go down.
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I tried to step away again, but another text box appeared. 
“Whomever loses may never leave.”
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I tried running for dear life out the exit, but I was stopped.
“You may never leave.”
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A shiny Flygon appeared in the middle of the circle and let out what I assumed was its cry, albeit I was too horrified for my life at that moment to care much for details, and the game froze.
I shut the game off, stared at it for a second, then suddenly every memory of what I had done earlier in the summer came flooding back at once. I knew exactly what Tommy Boy was now, and I was absolutely terrified.
I wanted to hold myself, cry my eyes out and throw this game into the woods where no one would ever find it, but then I thought about my sister. I thought about how if I didn’t get rid of Tommy Boy now, things would probably get worse and soon I’d wake up to find my little sister stabbing herself to death, or me.
Through my tears, I turned the game back on.
“It’s just you and me now, Tommy. Rematch. Double or nothing.”
If he won, he could take us both. But if I won, he would take his sorry demon hide back to wherever it was he came from. He seemed keen on my offer, as the game started up with no problems.
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Once the game was up and running, I found my character in the middle of a dark cave. 
I instinctively went to my party to make someone use Flash, but then I remembered more than likely Tommy Boy was going to be there.
I braced myself...
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But I was pleasantly surprised to find there were just some random Pokémon instead.
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Of course, I didn't have the HM for Flash. Or the TM for Dig. Or any Escape Rope.
...
Wonderful.
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So I stumbled around in the dark, trying to find my way out of this mess.
I kept bumping into walls and rocks, climbing up and down countless ladders, but there was no exit in sight. Or any trainers in sight, for that matter.
In fact, I hadn't run into any wild encounters either, until I came to the conclusion that there was only one Pokémon I would be running into here, and that I should avoid it like the plague.
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Was spamming Super Repel going to protect me from a level 100 demonic Flygon? Probably not, but I couldn't be too careful.
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After some time nowhere near an hour, I found myself in a small room that had nothing in it. I tried to go back the way I came, but I was stopped. My character wouldn't move. I started to tense up again.
The light surrounding me in-game was snuffed out, and all that could be seen was darkness. I was about to turn the game off before something happened, but before I could, something happened.
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“Found you.”
The text in red popped up with a Flygon cry to accompany it, and the game froze again.
"No!" I yelled desperately, flickering the game off and on again. "One chance, give me one more chance!"
Instead, when I loaded the file, I was met with a glitchy, pixelated mess of a screen flashing multicolored lights while blaring the loudest beeping noise I'd ever heard in my life that sent my ears and eyes ringing. I quickly shut off the game and stared at the empty screen in disbelief for I don't know how long.
Had I lost the game?
I couldn't accept that. I was going to play this game all night if I had to. One of us would be leaving tonight, and it wasn't going to be me. Bracing myself, I tightly closed my eyes and powered the game on again. I expected another cacophony of buggy sounds and flashing lights, but surprisingly, I was able to boot up my save file just fine.
But, unfortunately, I didn't get the Round 3 of hide-and-seek that I had vainly asked for.
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Instead, I was at the bottom of Mt. Pyre.
I still had the same team as before, unable to Fly or Surf away from this nightmarish set of circumstances that I'd been put in.
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I don't know what Tommy Boy was getting at, or what he wanted from me now, but I knew the only way to understand exactly what I was dealing with would be to play along, just for now.
My only option left was to climb Mt. Pyre.
I felt a mounting suspense that kept rising each floor I went to, although I didn't know why. Maybe it was because every floor, even indoors, were all unusually foggy.
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However, the wild Shuppet started to make quick work of my low leveled Pokémon.
I then got the sudden idea that maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all. If my entire party fainted, I could get sent back to a Pokémon Center and escape the boundaries of Tommy Boy's "game."
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When they all fainted though, I didn't get sent back. Instead, I was still trapped on Mt. Pyre.
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All of the Pokémon that were protecting me were gone now.
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I still ran into Shuppet, except I kept sending out a large "?" where a Pokémon should've been.
I kept whiting out, only to return to the position I'd started the battle in.
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After a nerve-wracking climb though the graveyard, I reached the top.
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Surrounding the pedestal at the top were six PokéBalls.
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As I checked each one, a picture of a Pokémon would pop up.  They seemed really familiar, and soon I realized all the Pokémon here were part of the team I was just using.
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After I checked the sixth Pokémon, I found my character to be trapped in the center of the pedestal with no way out.
I frantically mashed the D-Pad in hopes of finding some way to escape.
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In the midst of my panic, a glowing red circle materialized on the ground, connecting all the PokéBalls surrounding the pedestal, with me still in the center.
I remember at that moment thinking, I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to die, and I wholeheartedly believed I was going to.
Then, a large text box in all red with a Flygon cry popped up...
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“YOU MAY NEVER LEAVE.”
That right there sealed the deal.
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I wasted no shred of time pulling out that Emerald cartridge and cutting it into an unrecognizable pile of green plastic with my scissors.
In my desperation, I brushed the remains of the cartridge into my trash can, wrapped up the trash bag, and went to the extent of escaping through my window and throwing it into the woods. Screw littering, screw the police, I didn't want that thing in my house.
And especially screw Tommy Boy. Screw his little game, screw the thought of him having any sort of control over me.
The only way to win is not to play, and I made sure no one would ever play this game again.
The next morning, my much more well-rested little sister asked where my GameBoy was, and I was about to tell her she was never allowed to touch that thing for as long as she lives, but then she asked to play Mario Party Advance on it.
I was baffled, to say the least, but found no problem in it and let her play it. She showed no signs of becoming obsessed and got bored of playing it after an hour, so I was relieved and assumed that the worst was over.
You can be sure I am not, and will never, plan on performing any more summoning rituals any time soon.
Thankfully, my little sister's gone back to being completely normal. If anything, her only sign of change is that she's getting into that "girly stage". She'll get Pokémon plushies and sit them all in a circle and play tea party with them in her room. At least, that's what I think she's doing with them.
Doesn't matter to me though, I'm busy with my own things. I'm happily content with my dear Darkrai plush that took entirely too much effort out of my life to obtain. I feel really bad for neglecting him these past few weeks, but it's okay.
I won't be giving any more of my time or attention to anyone else except my little baby.
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let-it-raines · 3 years
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I Hope We Never See October (6/?)
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When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.
Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.
Rating: Mature
ao3: Beginning | Current
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August
“I come bearing food.”
No one responds, and Emma knows there has to be at least five people in this house. And while David and Mary Margaret live in a really nice place thanks to Mary Margaret’s dad, it’s not so big that no one can hear her when she walks in the front door.
“Hello?” she repeats, shifting the bags of food in her arms. She’s got approximately eight hundred pounds of appetizers in her car, and she needs help carrying them in. “Hello, it’s me, the lowly caterer. Should I have used a separate entrance than the front, or is someone as lowly as me allowed to use that one? What if the neighbors see?”
Still, no answer, and Emma walks down the hallway until she’s in the kitchen. Every inch of the countertop is covered with food, drinks, cutlery, and the works. It’s an organized mess, much like Mary Margaret herself, and Emma puts the bags she’s carrying on the kitchen table before looking out the window to the pool.
“Oh my God,” she whispers to herself. “Like, oh my God.”
Killian Jones is standing on the pool house roof with what looks like garland or bubble lights or some kind of string object, and David is standing below him to...catch him. It looks like David is there to catch Killian.
Emma pushes open the French double doors and steps outside. “What the hell is happening here?”
Killian drops one of the strings he’s holding, causing David to move to catch it, and Emma swears she sees Killian’s life flash before her eyes before he catches himself on the flattest part of the roof.
“Bloody hell, Swan,” he gasps, out of breath, “warn a man.”
“Consider yourself warned.” She closes the door behind her and crosses her arms over her chest. It’s ridiculously hot out today, and she can already feel the sweat gathering down her back and underneath her bikini top. “What are you doing here so early?”
“Ah, well,” Killian starts as he picks up the dropped string of lights and starts adjusting them again, “I ran into Dave here at the market, we got to talking, and since I had nothing else to do, I’ve agreed to risk my life to hang his lights.”
“He’s more nimble than I am,” David says, like that explains all of this.
“Trust me, mate, Emma knows that.”
“Oh my God,” Emma whispers to herself as Killian and David keep talking, not paying her any attention.
Emma opens the door back and steps inside, away from the madness. She doesn’t know what’s happening out there, and she doesn’t want to know. Some things are better left not talked about or questioned, and this is definitely one of those things. She knows her friends all know Killian. The night at the bar where he met Mary Margaret and Ruby really snowballed things, and it’s fine. It is. She swears it’s fine. Except.
Except, well, they usually never meet the people she’s sleeping with. They’ve met her boyfriends, if only because it was nearly impossible to keep them away after so long, and they liked...Graham. They really liked Graham, not so much the others, and Emma feels the exact same way. But her casual flings, like with Killian, her friends don’t meet them. They don’t meet them, and they really don’t invite them to their big almost end of summer parties. They don’t ask them to help hang they string lights and get ice. She bets they asked him to get ice.
What is happening?
This is…this is a lot, and Emma doesn’t know how to feel about it.
She doesn’t know how to feel about a lot of things, mostly Killian Jones, but there are other things included in there. Those things just aren’t quite so in her face.
Shit.
When Mary Margaret invited him to the party a few weeks ago, Emma was fine with it. It’s just a party. There are going to be a lot of people here, and what was the harm in inviting one more? Besides, it’s not like she could have said no when Mary Margaret asked. That would have been rude, and despite what a few select people say, Emma is not rude.
Emma picks at a grape on the counter, popping it in her mouth, and then gets another one as she watches David and Killian outside. Killian takes another string of lights from David and hooks them over a nail on the roof.
He’s different from her past few flings. They’re usually as big of a mess as she is, and while she assumes Killian is as well, she doesn’t know enough about him to truly know. They’ve got a pretty good deal with their one personal question of the day thing. She knows it’s usually more than that, little things coming out in bed or when he stops by the Blue Dog, but she has comfort in being able to veto any question that gets a little too personal.
If Emma could have a veto in most things in life, it’d be a hell of a lot easier.
Emma grabs another grape and then starts unpacking the food she brought. Mary Margaret must have run to the store to get something else, but Emma knows how she’ll want to arrange things. She’s been to enough Nolan parties to know what happens. If she focuses on this, she’ll be able to ignore the man outside and all the pesky little thoughts in her head.
“Swan,” Killian says from behind her, and Emma lets out a little curse. “What are you doing, love?”
“Helping out in the air conditioning instead of outside.”
He hums and steps up behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist as his scruff scratches her neck. It’s a contrast to the softness of his lips that are running down the side of her throat. Arousal rises in her veins, quick like lightning, and it continues when one of his hands glides down her body and cups her ass as he presses against her.
“Killian,” she whispers, biting her bottom lip, “this is not the place for this.”
“What? Your friends’ kitchen isn’t the place for us to have a little fun?”
“No,” she laughs as she tilts her neck to give him more space, “it’s not. They may know we’re sleeping together, but I don’t think they want to witness it.”
He laughs and twists her around. His fingers skim her collarbone, lifting up the strap of her bikini. “I like this.”
“You’re such a man.” She pushes against his chest and moves away, going back to arranging the charcuterie boards. Multiple. “I’m sorry David roped you into helping. You could have said no.”
“It’s fine. Can I help you in here?”
She wants to say no, to send him back outside, but it might be nice to have company that’s okay sitting in silence with her. The rest of the day is going to be filled with people celebrating the near end of summer, even if it tends to linger for another month midway into September, and Emma could use a little quiet time before the chaos.
“If you could slice those apples for me, that would be great.”
“Aye, love, no problem.”
They work in silence setting up the boards. Killian catches on quickly, copying her arrangements, and eventually Mary Margaret comes home with more fruit and cheese and a car full of hamburger buns. She takes one look at the mess in her kitchen, has a bit of a meltdown, but then Ruby shows up with Mulan and it all starts coming together enough for everything to calm down.
For about five minutes before the neighbors start showing up with their own food and alcohol, and suddenly all the quiet, familiar voices are drowned out by loud new ones. Emma pours herself a glass of lemonade and sinks into a corner of the kitchen before moving outside. It’s miserably hot, the sun warming her skin immediately, but she knows it’ll cool soon. Until then, she finds her spot in a rattan chair in the shade, curling her legs up with her, and she watches as more and more people begin to filter in.
Emma doesn’t know how any two people have this many friends. She keeps a small circle, and they’ve been around for years. She’s slow to trust after spending her entire childhood in foster care, and while she likes to think her past doesn’t define her, she knows sometimes it does. Right now, when she’s cornering herself off while everyone else is having fun, she knows it’s a time where some old demons are knocking at the unlocked door waiting to get in.
She twists the lock and tells them to go away. She doesn’t need this today.
Ruby jumps into the pool, splashing everyone around her, and Emma laughs to herself. Ruby is one of the people that’s allowed in her head, and sometimes when Emma thinks her life is falling apart, she remembers being eighteen years old, desperate for food and a place to stay, and Ruby and Granny taking her in. they gave her a job and a place to stay because Ruby told Granny she would throw a fit if she didn’t take Emma in. So, it was a threat, sure, but it worked.
It’s good. Emma’s life is good. It’s messy and confusing, but it’s good.
Mostly.
Killian walks toward her, tilting his head in question, and she nods, scooting over on the cushion to give him room. Killian takes it, his thigh warm against hers, and then offers her a beer.
“No thanks. Not quite late enough in the day for me to want something to drink. I’ve got to save it all for when David starts telling the bad jokes once he’s finished cooking and can get plastered.” Killian chuckles then puts the bottle down on the grass. “What? You don’t want it either?”
“No.” He wraps his arm around her, letting it lightly fall on her shoulder. His fingertips pull on the ends of her hair, and a shiver runs down her spine. She’s always loved when people play with her hair. “It’s too early for me to be drinking as well. I try to stay away from the stuff when I can.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Have you now?”
Emma nods and leans a little further into him. She shouldn’t. This all feels a little too couple-like, but she does anyway. “You tend not to drink and when you do, you’re very calculated. You don’t just drink a bunch of wine like I will. It’s almost like you measure it out, literally.”
Killian clicks his tongue and yanks on her hair a little more before he draws his nail over the bare skin of her arm. He doesn’t answer, though. He stays silent, so Emma pulls her legs up and curls into herself while staying next to Killian. Ruby is jumping in the pool again, and Mary Margaret is walking around the pool with a platter of appetizers Emma brought from the Blue Dog.
When Killian still doesn’t answer, Emma decides to change the subject.
“So, tell me, how did you end up being some kind of soccer superstar?”
Killian chuckles and scratches at his chin. “Ah, that’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time. I don’t plan on giving up this chair any time soon. And it’s my one legitimate personal question of the day, so answer or veto.”
His brow raises, like it’s tempting her to take back her statement. She doesn’t. She must be really good at asking the worst questions possible today. They never really talk about what he used to do for a living, mostly because she doesn’t care, but she never thought it would be a sensitive subject. Then again, she should know better. She’s got enough sensitive subjects herself.
She waits for the veto, but it never comes.
“My mum got me into it as something to do after school to keep me active, and I loved it, mostly because Liam, my brother, did it too.” Killian smiles, one of his more genuine ones, and Emma leans back to get a better look at him. She likes the little lines around his eyes much better than the ones around hers. “Long story short, I was bloody good, my father learned there was a way to bet on children’s matches, and he kept me in it to make money. I nearly quit when I found out about it, but then I was too invested in the camps and in training. I loved it, and by some miracle, I ended up being able to do it for a living. I got the dream.”
“So why’d you stop?”
He laughs, but she can tell he finds nothing about this funny, especially when his fingers tighten around her arm. “Well, my brother died, I fell apart, and by professional standards, I was too old to have any kind of time to redeem myself. I nearly drank myself to death, which answers your earlier question, so I’m careful about how much I consume now. That’s actually why I came here...to get away from it all.”
That was...that was much more than Emma was expecting, and she doesn’t know what to say. That’s a common theme in her life. She knows what she feels, but she doesn’t have a damn clue how to express it. So she leans over and wraps her arm around Killian, matching him, and presses up until she can slowly glide her lips over his. It’s soft and sweet, just a taste of how they usually kiss, and she knows it goes against every rule she has for herself.
He’s leaving soon.
This is okay because he’s leaving soon, and when they leave, Emma rarely has to worry about the consequences.
“I wanted to be a ballerina when I was a kid,” she says against his lips, foreheads pressed together. “I never took a class or owned a tutu, but all I wanted was to be able to do the Nutcracker dance because that’s what they did at the community theater. I didn’t have any money as a kid, and I just thought it was the most luxurious thing in the world.”
Emma pulls back. She can’t believe she said any of that, but she did. It’s out there, one tiny piece of the gigantic, five-thousand-piece puzzle that is her life.
“You would have made a hell of a ballerina with those legs of yours, Swan. What an apt last name as well. It could have been a match made in heaven.”
“Ha,” she scoffs, getting up from the chair. “You haven’t seen me dance. Unless it’s, like, in a club where all I really have to do is grind my body on a man, I can’t do it.”
“It’s easy. All you need is a partner who knows what he's doing.”
“And what if I want to be a soloist?”
His brows go up at that. “Well, then you need a teacher because apparently you make a poor excuse for a dancer.”
Killian stands from the chair, and in two quick steps, he’s next to her with his hands on her ass lifting her up. She doesn’t register what’s happening quickly enough for her legs to go dead, and by the time she’s in the air over his shoulder, she doesn’t care enough to fight what’s coming.
It’s a party, she reminds herself, might as well have a good time.
“Get my phone out of my back pocket before you throw me in, would ya?” she asks, and Killian slips his hand in and gets her phone. “Thank you. I’m totally getting back at you for this later.”
Killian stops as Ruby wolf whistles, Mary Margaret gasps, David chuckles, and everyone else starts whispering about whether or not Killian is actually going to throw her in.
He does.
The water is cold at first, like a shock to the system, but by the time she rises to the surface, it’s just the burst of energy that she needed. Killian is sitting at the edge of the water smirking, and yeah, she’s definitely got to get him back for this later.
-/-
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saphirered · 3 years
Note
I love the way you write Lucien, and was wondering, if you aren't too busy (and don't mind a second request from the same person), could I request a part two wherein the reader and Lucien make it to the bedroom (no explicit details, or anything) when he and the Tomb Takes are invited into Widogast Tower?
Thank you! Lucien's such an interesting character to write. So much is revealed about his character by paying attention to the details. I tried to play into those things so I hope you like the way this turned out! 😘
Caleb goes through his usual ritual of summoning the tower. The Tombtakers wait watching him closely but one in particular keeps a very close eye on him; Lucien. He’s still very much uneasy around spellcasters of this caliber and with what the wizard had already displayed he knew better than to underestimate your little group. You’re a danger and have already proven you could be much more than a hurdle in his way. He’s looking forward to the challenge.
But there your stand bouncing on your feet stretching and curling your fingers to preserve any warmth now you’ve stopped moving, patiently awaiting the familiar door to appear. Lucien finds himself at your side just slightly behind you. You don’t have to look over your shoulder to know it’s him. He already radiates enough of a presence you’re constantly aware of where he places himself.
“If you’re still cold, love, how about we test those perks of the infernal bloodline?” The whisper is barely loud enough to hear so you’re confident the others hadn’t heard the words but the little too short distance between the two of you is compromising enough should anyone turn around and see.
“Depends. Are you offering?” You keep your eyes on the mid-spell wizard. There’s no change in your voice. Just neutrality and indifference to the offer made. You know better than give Lucien the pleasure of any kind of response your friends might catch onto just to get a rise out of them. He’s a selfish man and loves causing conflict but he won’t tear you away from your friends even if that means he’ll have to dispose of you and your Mighty Nein at the end of the road. His goals come before everything and everyone no matter how much he might prefer to keep you around. He knows better than to attempt to keep around someone who will grow to have a vendetta against him after his task is completed no matter what he offers you. He knows where your loyalties lie and there’s nothing he can do about that but hope maybe your interests in him change into an emotional attachment enough to take you off the playing field all together. Slim chances but never impossible.
“Funny.” Lucien offers a brief chuckle as the iridescent doorway appears. Caleb turns around allowing everyone to enter. His eyes fall on you just as Lucien leans in a little closer to your ear.
“Perhaps I am.” He pulls away and steps past you usual smirk on his face as he approaches the wizard. While Caleb keeps his opinions to himself you’re aware despite your explanation of the actions Fjord witnessed you have more explaining to do.
A brief tour later and sleeping arrangements for the Tombtakers set up, you’re pulled aside by Fjord at the dinner table. You knew this moment was coming and under the cover of Jester and Veth keeping the Tombtakers busy and Beau annoying Lucien to death you have a chance at a private conversation among company. You’re aware that the moment you set out for a side bar Lucien will notice and spy on your conversation. He’s not stupid enough to know such action is rooted in potential conflict be that between you and your friends or your group and his and he’s not about to be blindsided.
Fjord offers the seat next to him between himself and Caleb who’s already dug into his dinner. Thank the gods Fjord does because at least that lowers any suspicion. With a smile you accept and sit down between the half orc and wizard, filling a plate of your own. You notice Lucien glance over to you before Beau compels him to return his attention to her. Okay now it’s clear the others are in on this game. Good to know the Mighty Nein hasn’t lost their touch. You’re all going to need it and you feel as if it’s going to be sooner rather than later.
You begin with small talk but thread off into a conversation steered by hints, dancing with words to get across what you’ve been able to gleam from Lucien in your most recent interactions. You’re fully aware Lucien is using your interactions for the same purposes so you feel it’s only fair. He can’t deny the fact that’s exactly what he’s been doing regardless of the fact that you both enjoy your interactions and engaging exactly in what your mutual attraction persuades you to do.
Fjord chokes on the waffle he was eating when you let it slip what Lucien had offered you while Caleb summoned the tower earlier. Things clear up for Caleb and he’s clever enough to know your pleasantries with Fjord are more than just that. He gets what you’re really talking about. It’s good to know he doesn’t have to mistrust your loyalties entirely but he worries still. He knows what people like Lucien are capable of and he knows what it takes to be a spy, but the question is; do you really have the guts to do what’s necessary at the end of the day? He hopes still and he’ll trust the advantages and insights you’ve been providing over the lack of clarity and selective honesty Lucien himself has provided.
“I’m sorry. He said what?” Fjord coughs as you pat his back and offer him his cup, playing it off your friend simply took a wrong bite like the tentative soul you are.
“Do you really need me to repeat that?” You glare at the half orc. He does not need you to repeat those words. You know how flustered Fjord gets at the mentions of intimacy and you can’t really afford going into details right now or he might expose your little sidebar.
“Are you going to accept?” Caleb asks. He doesn’t make eye contact and stays focussed on his food keeping up the illusion he’s not part of this and has been distancing himself ever since he caught onto Lucien’s advances earlier.
“Do you need the distraction?” You’d already made up your mind and you’re going to take it but that doesn’t mean no one else can benefit from the distracted Nonagon. Caleb knows how to play this game so you’ll take his opinions over those of the others.
“If you think you can handle it.” Caleb knows some people would be fine with sleeping with someone for the benefits it achieves but in the majority of those cases the feelings are one-sided or nonexistent. He knows well enough your previous flirtations indicate feelings are very much involved on both sides and that might just not bode well for anyone if you slip up. If Lucien slips up, there’s plenty of advantages of be gained.
“I guess I know what I’ll be doing after dinner. Don’t waste this opportunity.” You say intensely putting a look of anger and annoyance on your face as you get up from your seat pushing Caleb’s shoulder as you do so. Caleb sends you a similar expression, grasps your arm but you pull it free and leave. Game on. You planted the seeds of doubt, clear for the Tombtakers to see. Best to pretend there’s some infighting and solidify your own position.
“Beau, could you do me a favour and convince Caleb my life’s choices are none of his business. You seem to have much better luck getting anything through that thick skull of his.” You smile exasperated and Beau gives you a confused look as you move your eyes in the direction of the wizard. Beau takes the hint and with one last witty remark she leaves you with Lucien.
“Everything alright, love?” Lucien leans back in his chair studying your every move corner of his lips turned up as he watches the latest bane of his existence settle with the wizard. Oh, how he’ll love to just squeeze the life out of that one. She’s too much to bear in his opinion and he doesn’t know how you put up with the monk.
“Don’t start.” You warn. Lucien lifts his hands in surrender not pushing the subject further. Any elaboration in your end would be directly deceptive right now and you do not feel confident enough in your skill to pull that off.
“You look like you could use a break, or a distraction. Why don’t you show me around?” Not needing to be told twice you take Lucien’s hand. You will yourself to float up and the tiefling follows after speaking the word. While he’s paying attention to your destination you quickly look down over your shoulder. Caleb offers you a single curt nod. You don’t return it but he knows message received as they finish up dinner.
“So where to first?” Lucien asks once the iris beneath you closes cutting off visual on the others beneath.
“Well, since you’ve already seen the floors below and where you and your companions will be staying I would offer to show you the laboratory and study, though, I doubt you’d be interested.” You don’t look at him as you glance up hoping Caleb would have changed your room enough to a nondescript one because with Lucien you don’t know what tiny detail might give him leverage you wouldn’t want him to have.
“And here I thought you’d offered to open up your bed to me.” Lucien jokes. You step up close and put your finger right under his chin.
“I offered to fuck you. I didn’t offer to share my sleeping arrangements for anything other than that. That you’ll have to earn, love.” You take a step back dropping your finger and begin floating up once more.
“Is that the game we’re playing? If so, challenge accepted.” Lucien gives you one of his devilish grins and floats after you until the two of you reach the right floor. You don’t make a grand ceremony about showing him around but instead enter your chambers. You’re very glad to see a very nondescript furnishing, a stained glass display that only shows you and the Nein and your connection to Mollymauk in more detail. Nothing Lucien could read anything off himself outside of things he already knew.
“Oh, I thought you said you were done playing games?” You tilt your head innocently as he enters the room, the door closing behind him. You lean against the back of the couch behind you crossing your arms waiting, watching every move just as he is. You because you’re trying to read whatever you can from him. He because he has half the mind to expect this to be some sort of trap but that won’t prevent him from engaging in whatever happens next.
“New game. New challenges. New rules.” He steps close. Some might expect Lucien to act in a predator and prey-like manner but no. You got clear insights he’s much more akin to an insatiable curiosity and playfulness, never satisfied, not even if he’d own the world. It will never be enough. It shows you the risks of the game more so than before. One wrong move and you’re gonna get burned. Then again, you know the feeling. The only difference here is you know satisfaction well enough you won’t let it be your own undoing nor will you ever let pride get in your way and Lucien’s ego and overconfidence certainly is his.
Fingers curl up the side of your neck until they find the back of your neck. Unaffected you keep your eyes locked on the bright red ones right in front of you. You feel another arm wrap around your waist, sliding down around your back and over to your behind. In a swift motion you’re lifted until you’re sitting on the back of the couch. Lucien steps in between your legs. Still you remain unfazed.
“Is that all you got? I expected more from you.” You tease. You know how to push these buttons. Moving your hair out of the way he softly begins trailing kisses up and down your neck, leaving little bites here and there. There’s a gentleness you didn’t expect him to be capable of.
“Challenge accepted.” Lucien’s lips find yours and you’re pulled into a deep kiss feeling wandering hands caress your body as they go. That’s more like it.
————
“Perhaps we should do this more often.” Lucien lays sprawled out on your bed one arm behind his head staring at you as you put on a shirt, making no effort to remove himself from your bedroom just yet. What can he say, the place and company are much preferred to that of any other travel company currently available.
“Told you getting it out of your system wouldn’t fix a damn thing.” An hand grasps your shoulder and pulls you back onto the bed. Lack of surprise and neutrality has been a good tool in persuading Lucien to respond to anything so you’ll keep it going.
“It provided clarity. But just because I like to see that smile of yours, I won’t deny I could get used to this.” Your legs on either side of him, Lucien plays with your fingers. It does make you smile and he seems very satisfied with himself. Letting go of one hand he brushes his fingers up your hip and underneath the shirt you just put on.
“Careful. Is that affection I hear speaking? What will your Eyes of Nine think?” You gasp grazing your nails over the one on his chest.
“For now? They can go fuck themselves. Let them wait a little longer.” Satisfied with the answer you lean in and kiss Lucien. You just hope the Nein’s using this time wisely.
“Let your overlords wait while you fuck me? How appropriate.” You joke between kisses.
“Good thing they need me more than I need them.”
“And yet you run after their every whim. I don’t know if that makes you the dog or them since you seem to be the hand that feeds them.” There comes the ego again. The nefarious smirk is enough to tell you you’re right. He’s playing much bigger of a game he’s letting on, to anyone and he’s holding all the cards in his hands. The realisation hits that Lucien is not the pawn in the game the Eyes of Nine are playing, no he’s the one playing them. The others need more time and you need to buy it for them now more than ever. Though, that doesn’t mean you’re not enjoying any of it. You’d have done so regardless. Perhaps it just makes you feel more justified in sleeping with the literal enemy you see Lucien become in the future.
“Those sound like fighting words, love. You might want to watch your tongue.” You lean in close but just far away enough to prevent your lips from touching.
“What are you going to do about it?” With that you’re flipped over onto your back. Satisfied with your action and Lucien’s response you close the distance wrapping your legs around him. Time for round two.
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imagine-that · 4 years
Text
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Quidditch lesson
Warnings: so much fluff your teeth will rot
Pairing: Oliver Wood x reader
AN: hi, I’m in love with Oliver Wood and proud of it, that bby is absolutely a keeper on and off the quidditch pitch
You run excitedly into the Gryffindor common room, racing over to your boyfriend and pecking him on the cheek.
“Hey.” You greet, sitting down in the chair next to him.
“Hi.” He says, not looking up from the papers in front of you. It takes you a second but you notice the other teens crowded around him, looking down at the same papers in concentration.
“What’re you lot up to?” You ask, playing with his hair with one hand.
“Wood is working on a new Quidditch play.” One of the twins says enthusiastically. The others nod eagerly, turning their attention back to the papers.
“Oh... well, are you coming on the Hogsmeade trip later this week?” You ask, looking at your boyfriend with your head tilted to reach the level of his.
“I might. It depends how this play works out.” He murmurs, his quill flying across the paper in concentration.
“Okkkk... then maybe you’ll sit with me at dinner tonight?” You ask hopefully, wrapping your arms around him, giving him a hug from the back.
“I have a lot of homework to catch up on, I was planning on just eating small and coming back here early to work.” He says with a frown, finally looking up at you in an apologetic way you dread seeing.
“I can help!” You offer, desperately trying to find a time in the both of your busy schedules for each other.
“Y/n darling, I would love to spend some time with you. But you and I both know I’d get nothing done as long as you’re near.” He points out, making you smile a little against your will.
“That’s true.” You pout. “Okay. We’ll figure this out. I promise.” You swear, sitting back down and reaching over to touch his hand supportively.
To some, it was a wonder the two of you were still together with the lack of quality time you had together. To the both of you, you were inseparable at heart, even if it wasn’t physically. Still, you couldn’t help but feel the absence of his presence when he was busy.
He smiles up at you gratefully, scooting closer to you and giving you a kiss on the lips, holding you in his arms for a long and sweet moment, ignoring the hollering of the quidditch team around him.
“Yeah yeah, alright.” You call with a laugh, waiting for them to settle down. “Now back to work, all of you.” You order jokingly, standing back up and pecking Oliver on the forehead before walking off to think of the best way to spend time with him.
——————————————————
“Y/n, are you sure about this?” Oliver asks warily as he lugged the trunk of quidditch balls onto the field.
“Yes Wood I’m quite sure.” You respond, hands on your hips.
He sighs with a small smile, pulling open the lid to reveal the equipment.
“Ok so remind me again which ball is which?” You ask hopefully. He laughs slightly, having explained it to you many times while watching matches but not overly upset about going over the game again.
“This here is the quaffle. It’s the one the chasers use to make the goals into those hoops.” He explains as he pulls out the scarlet leather ball and points at the three hoops off in the distance.
You roll your eyes, laughing a little. “I know that much already.” You giggle and he looks up at you with a grin.
“Well you did ask me to explain which is which.” He argues and you nod in agreement.
“The bludgers are the nastier ones, you might need the bat.” He continues, offering you the stick. You take it, quickly smacking one of the balls off into the air when it comes at you.
“Hm... seems you would make an excellent beater.” He says and you beam at the compliment.
“Thank you, I’m glad to have the approval of the expert.” You tease with a grin, giggling as he playfully scoffs.
“Then you have the snitch.” He continues, pulling out the shimmering golden ball.
“That one is mean. It’s pretty but evil. I know that as well.” You note, admiring the shiny trinket.
He chuckles, sticking it back in the box.
“That is very true.” He admits. “The beaters, as you know, keep the bludgers away from the seeker, the chasers and the keeper, me.” He explains even more, getting heavily into explaining the game he loved so much to you.
“I mean, of course you’d be the keeper. In the game and in love.” You tease, with a smile, reaching up to him and planting a kiss on his cheek again.
“Aww thanks love.” He says, a grin of his own plastered to his face as he goes to put the other balls back into the chest alongside the snitch.
“Woah, woah, woah. I thought you were going to teach me how to play!” You exclaim, raising an eyebrow.
“Y/n, quidditch can be a pretty dangerous game-.” He starts with a sigh but not before you can interrupt.
“I’m well aware. But you play it all the time and you’re obviously perfectly fine. I want to learn so I can spend more time with you.” You argue, crossing your arms over your chest.
You understood why he would be anxious or worried about you, the game was risky. But you wanted to be around your boyfriend more. You didn’t want to have to wait for quidditch to be over to even get a second of his time.
“Alright let me fetch the brooms.” He groans in surrender. You clap your hands together in victory, watching as he accios them to you.
“I didn’t realize you could do that with a broom!” You exclaim happily, running over to grab one of them from him.
As you get a grip on it, his tightens.
“You know how to get it to fly, correct?” He asks, his voice laced with concern.
“Yes Oliver, I took flying in first year, same as you.” You groan, tugging on it again.
He finally lets go, letting you go over the routine to get it mounted while he runs over to release the balls again, afterwards getting on his own broom with ease.
“Ok, you can do this y/n. I believe in you.” He says reassuringly, tossing the bat over to you. You catch it in one hand easily.
He looks at you curiously before flying upwards a little bit.
“Sure you haven’t played before?” He asks with an eyebrow raised.
You shrug a little, a smirk on your face. “I may have played a few times with my family over the summer.” You explain, flying around in a circle around him to show your flying skills.
Soon, a ball comes flying at you and just as your instincts tell you to dodge, you instead smack it across the middle with the bat, a loud whacking sound in the air.
“Damn!” Oliver calls out, looking at you admiringly, making you blush.
“You act as though I’ve won the quidditch World Cup.” You call back with a laugh.
Next he grabs the quaffle, tossing it over to you. You catch it hastily, having only a bit of trouble with your coordination. You fly over to where Oliver is, flying up and down and around him, trying to throw him off before you finally toss it into the hoop with some difficulty due to the bat already under your arm.
Oliver cheers embarrassingly loud, making you laugh and blush all at once though you already know he was being sweet and taking it easy on you for your benefit.
Once again a bludgers comes at you only this time it makes you lose your grip on the broom. You almost fall but Oliver is right nearby, quickly getting you back on.
“I told you it’d be dangerous. Are you alright?” He asks, his mouth set in another frown of worry.
“I’m fine. A little shaken but fine. Let’s continue shall we?” You say, taking the quaffle from him just as you lean in to give him a kiss, flying off to the hoops and throwing it into one of them.
“I’d say that’s a bit like cheating.” He teases with another smile.
“All’s fair in love and war.” You argue happily.
He chuckles, flying off to grab the ball before it’s too far to reach, it being a two person quidditch match.
Soon enough, the rest of the Gryffindor team finds the two of you playing around on your brooms, moreso chasing each other than actually playing and they very eagerly grab their own broomsticks, joining in the fun.
Though they weren’t exactly invited, you weren’t bothered at all, already loving everyone on the team as though you yourself were a part of it and not Oliver.
By the end of the game, you’ve not only been hit about three times by the bludgers, nearly screamed a few times when the chasers come by with the quaffle and watched in awe of Harry chasing the snitch around the pitch but the team is also practically begging you to join them.
“Honestly y/n, you’re the second best beater we’ve seen in years. After me of course.” Fred jokes as all of you dismount your brooms on the ground.
“We can arrange for someone to leave the team! I know! Fred’ll do it!” George exclaims.
Fred scoffs at this, looking at his brother as if he’s psychotic. “You mean you’ll do it George, good job taking one for the team!” He replies with a smug grin.
The two walk away bickering over which of their spots should go to you, ignoring the spew of your protests following them off the field.
“Blimey y/n, maybe you should be quidditch Captain for Gryffindor!” Oliver says in amazement as you walk over to him and the chest, the quaffle tucked under your arm.
“Nope, I do believe they have the best captain they could get right here.” You say with a grin.
He blushes a little but doesn’t try to hide it from you. “Not sure I’m the best exactly but thanks.” He smiles a little, pulling the ball out of your arms and wrapping his arms around you for a hug.
You hug back tightly, you head buried in his chest.
“Maybe we should think about getting you on the team?” He suggests hopefully but you shake your head.
“Oliver, I’m not gonna mess up your entire team by taking one of their spots, though I do appreciate the compliment. I’ll try out next year, alright?” You promise, looking up at his face.
“Alright. But you better believe I’ll be helping you train for that. I won’t be going easy on you because you’re my girlfriend/boyfriend/significant other you know.” He warns with a teasing grin.
You laugh a bit, grabbing the ball from him and putting it back in its place in the box.
“I think I can handle my own darling, thank you very much.” You challenge with a smirk.
“Oh believe me, I know you can.” He agrees, a loving smile on his face.
You smile proudly at his compliment.
“But if you already knew how to play, why’d I have to explain it all to you?” He asks curiously.
You breath a laugh. “Because it was the only way I could get you away from the team. There’s nothing you’re more passionate about than quidditch so I figured it was a safe bet.” You shrug.
“I have been leaving you for the team a lot lately haven’t I?” He asks, a guilt ridden frown taking over his face.
You take his face in your hands gently, making him look at you.
“In no way am I mad Oliver. I want you to know that. I just wanted to ensure some time with you.” You assure him.
“And was the time today what you wanted?” He asks, looking in your face for any sign of a lie.
“Today was everything I could’ve wanted. We should play together more often.” You promise with a soft smile.
He nods eagerly in agreement, one of his grins overtaking the frown.
The two of you walk hand in hand back off the quidditch pitch, one of the other members of the team having decided to take the balls back himself.
“You are wrong about one thing though.” He says as you reach the entrance back into the school.
“Oh? And what is that?” You question amusedly.
“I’m never going to be more passionate about anything, even quidditch, than I am about you and me.” He promises, leaning in and pressing a soft, sweet kiss onto your lips.
“You better not be.” You warn with a smile, telling him you’re only joking.
You walk back to the common room, snuggling up on one of the sofas together, both tired out from your amazing day.
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comicgoth666 · 3 years
Note
How would Toad handle his beloved expecting their kid (Bonus points if the kid hates Magneto's guts as a baby and the rest of their life)
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"Mort?" They'd spoke softly as they floated around the kitchen, working on dinner for the lot of them. Some Italian dish Mort hasn't had yet.
"Yes, luv?" He answered, feeling like he was on cloud nine, thinking of how lucky he was to have such a beloved. One who held him during nightmares. One who looked at him with love in their eyes. Just him and his beloved.
"I was wondering, how do you feel about kids?" Kids? Thought they were gross grubby little things once upon a time. He recalled when Wanda was pregnant. Fatter than a doe eyed sow. Sweating and swollen. Then the brats came and he was put in charge of them for a week until Pietro came to get them. Smelly and loud and annoying.
Then, Billy smiled at him. Tommy held his finger. The little brats slept with him on the couch for hours. Laughed when he tried to play with them. Clung to him when they were awake. Pietro eventually got back and picked fun at him for an hour before leaving with them with Luna in tow.
His relationship with children was now... complicated.
"Depends, luv. Different chil'ren. Different reaction. Wha'? Yew baby si'in' again? Nee' my 'elp? Nee' me ta leave?" They hummed a no in response and set a glass in his hand. Flavored whiskey. A recent obsession of his.
"Not exactly, dear."
"Wazzat mean?" They floated easily around before continuing dinner.
"Well... I'm..... pregnant."
Panic. His first thought is panic. Pregnant. With a baby? His baby? His beloved was simply walking around in the compound kitchen, like nothing was wrong. Like they hadn't just verbally rocked his shit.
"... wot?" His throat was dry. His tongue was heavy. Was his heart beating to fast? Is this a heart attack. Aren't these symptoms of that? "W... wha... re... really?" Another hum. Affirmation. Baby... a baby... his baby. Their baby. What if they have his mutation? What if they have his issues? What if-?!
"Dearest... you'll do great. I know it." A peck and off they went again.
The brotherhood was ecstatic to hear the news. His beloved wouldn't be able to fight for a bit to take care of the baby and he'd see to it. He definitely wasn't going back into the field for a bit. Building and planning, sure. No field work.
First, came the crib, long before the bump started to show. Built by hand and carved beautifully. Stress building toys while they sat around and tried to help before he'd panic and tell them to just sit down. Please, luv. Leave it to me. Let me take care of it. Don't have to lift a finger.
Baby books that his beloved picked out, baby clothes given by teammates. Frog and Toad (haw haw Mystique), guess how much I love you, where the wild things are. He never read those growing up. Never had them read to him. His goal was to do what he needed growing up.
The Brotherhood quickly found out that some people weren't aloud near them as their belly got larger. Freddy was aloud by them by himself, as was Neena, Dom, Irene and Wanda when she came to visit. Sauron was aloud, as he was their doctor at the moment. Raven, Peitro and St John had to be supervised by Mort or someone he trusted to be around them. Victor and Magneto were not aloud in any capacity if it could be avoided.
But, even then, he was croaking and clinging to his beloved when they came near. Magneto was curious about a second generation mutant, wanted to see what this mixture could produce. His child wasn't about to become his new science project. And Victor was... Victor. Picking fights by getting closer then he needs to be. He knows what a animal like mutant can do, and yet...
Once the time came for the child to come, Freddy had to hold the poor man to keep him from attacking Sauron. Their screaming and pain was to much for him to handle. Maybe he could drag them away to the lake nearby. Dig a hole. Hide themselves away and lay low for a bit till it was over. But, he knew realistically, this was what they needed. A doctor, a hospital (the compound counted, he supposed).
The panic had been building the entire nine and a half months. What if the baby died? What if they died? What if they and the baby died? What if his kid hated him? What if-?
"Mort." Carl, in his human form, called from the hallway. Freddy slowly released the Brit punk and he ran with wings on his feet through the doorway.
Tiny. It was so... tiny. Tiny hands. Tiny head. Tiny body. It could be crushed so... easy. If this were a fight, he'd feel grateful for the upper hand. But... this was his baby. All he felt was and overwhelming fear and love.
The only person, aside from the doc, to enter the makeshift hospital was Wanda. She was cooing and keeping her distance while his beloved slept, regaining strength.
The next few weeks were difficult, but do-able. He's taken on giant robots. He's fought the X-Men head on. A baby was small beans compared to that. His beloved had the patience of a saint. Arranging and rearranging toys nervously as they feed them. Teddy Bear next to stuffed Frog with a toy Bat by the foot of the crib. Froggy covers tucked and untucked and tucked again. It had to be right. Couldn't risk suffocation by rolling over wrong... or worse. Was he over reacting?
"Oh! Erik... hello." His beloved rocked back and forth in the chair as their boss entered the baby room, toy in hand. A stuffed doll with red yarn hair and a velvet green dress and black button eyes. His helmet gleamed in the soft lamp light. Wanda and Pietro stood behind him with a book and a stuffed black cat respectively.
"What do you want, Erik?" He allowed the twins to enter and coo at the small bundle in his beloved's arms, but blocked Erik at the door. He had simmered a bit, but still didn't allow him anywhere near the two.
"I can't say hello to the newest member?" Heat rose to his face.
"They will never work for you." He growled.
"Mort... it's fine." They held his eyes and silently beat his resolve down. He sighed and moved behind them, hands on their shoulders, teeth clenched, muscles tight.
"Hello, dear." Arms outstretched, silently asking to hold the child. Mort's breath hitched and heavy. His beloved slowly placed the child in his gloved hands. Large hands with blood on them from years of violence. He shouldn't be holding them. He shouldn't be here. Mort should take his beloved up on their plan to run. A cabin. No Magneto. They most certainly will not work for him.
Silence befell the room as he arranged the babe in his arms and once settled... a loud cry came from them. Screaming and fussing as they flailed in his hands. Mort moved fast enough to make Quicksilver proud while carefully and quickly scooping his child up and away from him. Shushing and rocking as his beloved apologised. Mort smiled to himself for the small victory. It wasn't much, but it worked for him.
Several times over the next two months, Magneto tried again and again to hold the infant, and Mort let him try. It had become entertaining to watch as he became flustered at the sudden cry of the child. Victor, he'd found, only had to get within their eyesight for them to cry and fuss. He was pretty much blacklisted from being near the child and he seemed just fine with that. Small victories for Mort. Animals and babies were notorious for sussing out bad people. It made him happy to know Erik would eventually give up on holding the child.
Wanda had begun helping him and his new family find a home and life away from this life after she'd left a month prior with her brother to work with S.H.I.E.L.D.
Peace. Quiet. And no more orders. It truly was everything he never knew he needed.
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Title: Kismet {4}
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Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor
Warning: Plot Heavy, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Flirtation, LOTS OF DIALOUGE
Words: 4k
Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?
If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘  As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️
***Loosely Edited/Proofread***
***Interactive***
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 |
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-Aliya-
 You were groggy, and you knew why. Once you got in from your impromptu date, you were so aroused you had to immediately jump into the shower. You’d hoped the water would have helped alleviate the situation, but your multi rainfall showerheads only made your body more sensitive and hungry. So after as much resisting as humanly possible (two minutes), you decided to take care of it yourself. The only problem was once wasn’t enough, twice barely took the edge off, and by the time you made it to your fourth attempt, you were minimally appeased and still thinking about the man with the captivatingly blue eyes that were as deep as the ocean itself.
Sleep was not even an option, so you snuggled in bed wrapped in his sweater that cocooned you with his scent—a scent that you already loved. When you went through your phone, you nearly rolled out of your bed when you saw the four additions he’d added to your gallery. The four selfies were perfection. The lighting was on point, and each and every one of the photos showed how gorgeous he was. He had no bad angles, the sun loved him, the night loved him, and you were sure the rain, snow, sleet, and wind would too. No man should have that amount of gorgeousness. It wasn’t fair.
 After spending way too much time gawking at his pictures, you found the pictures he’d had most likely have seen. When you looked through them, you wanted to die. The pictures definitely didn’t leave much to the imagination. You wondered what he’d thought when he saw them or even if he had to do a little self-gratification when he saw them or even when he got home. For some reason, you’d wanted him to have been overcome with desire for you, even though you weren’t sure just what the hell you were doing.
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As you sat at your table with your friends for brunch, you tried to ignore the flashes of cameras from the tables within sight of yours. It wasn’t something anyone ever got used to. You always felt like you had to be “on.”
 “It feels like it’s been years since we talked,” Amaya whined out as she gripped yours and Alicia’s hand. She was the dramatic one.
 “I know. It’s crazy how dependent we are on our cellphones,” you added.
 “Leece filled me in and told me everything,” Amaya began. She dropped her jaw and bugged her eyes for emphasis.
 “Everything?”
 “Yep, now for you to continue,” Amaya steered.
 You groaned and exaggeratedly rolled your eyes. “I’m too hungry for this,” you whined as you flipped through the menu. You were starving enough to eat the entire menu.
 “Welcome to Blue Café. My name is Will. What can I get you guys?”
 The waiter in a blue apron had a great smile and an even better head of curls. He definitely could have been a model.
 “I want something heavy. I drank a lot last night. Hmm, the split pea soup to begin, a cheeseburger with the works except for onions and mushrooms. Very well done, please and to drink ummm, a strawberry and mint lemonade,” you listed.
 “All right, and you, ladies?”
 Your friends ordered as you checked your phone to find Henry calling. It was at this moment you realized he’d programmed himself into your phone even with an ID pic. He’d really gotten comfortable with it. The amusement of his boldness had you smiling to yourself.
 “So?”
 Amaya’s voice had you putting your phone down after dimming the screen to give them your attention.
 “We had dinner,” you blandly announced.
 “So, you actually stayed.”
 Nodding to Alicia’s inquiry, you continued. “I did. He said if after drinks and appetizers I couldn’t stand him, then I could go.”
 “I guess you could stand him,” Amaya sarcastically slid in. You knew just what she was implying.
 “Guess so.”
 “How’d he look?”
 Your smile spread before you could stop it. “Amazing, gorgeous. I have no words for how beautiful this man is,” you practically screeched as you tried to wipe the stupid grin off your face. It was too late to, though, they’d already seen it, and you knew they were judging.
 “He’s not a piece of meat, Liya,” Alicia sarcastically chastised.
 “Uggh, are you sure because I’d say he’s prime grade A man steak,” you said. As soon as the words were out, your friends laughed loudly, bringing the attention of those around you. Even though you tried not to, you had to laugh as well.
 “He is fine. I’ve seen his movies. God him in spandex for Superman did it for me,” Amaya confessed.
 You didn’t blame her, that man in spandex would do it for any woman.
 “How was the conversation?”
 Practicing some etiquette, you cleared your throat and sat back. “Good. Flowing, no awkward pauses except the stares and dirty thoughts that had me sweating like a horny teenager.”
 Amaya snorted then fanned herself. “It would happen to me too.”
 “How was he?”
 Alicia always knew how to ask the right questions. You were convinced it was her superpower. You thought back to Henry’s smile and demeanor last night, and that had you smiling. “Eh-em, he was the perfect gentleman. He opened doors, pulled out chairs, was respectful to the servers, courteous, mannerable—he was good.”
 The two of them exchanged looks that said this questioning wasn’t anywhere close to finished.
 “What happened after dinner?
 “We went for drinks.”
 “Ooh, an extended first date,” Amaya sing songed.
 “Eh, this wasn't a date. It was an exchange of phones,” you clarified.
 “Did you get your phone?”
 “I did, after the bar. Turns out, he looked through it and saw my semi-nude,” you announced.
 “Which one?”
 After showing them the picture, they giggled. “Oh, the suggestive nude, nude,” Alicia joked as she rolled her eyes.
 “Yeah, now I’m weirded out. Not because I was pretty much naked but because he saw me pretty much naked and--.”
 “—There is nothing between you now, and that makes it much harder to ignore because you want to rip his clothes off,” Alicia filled in like the mind-reading Aliya whisperer she was.
 You rapidly nodded with your eyes widened; she got it. your laugh slipped out, and it made you feel like a raving lunatic. “Oh my god, this man has invaded me.”
 “Sounds sexy,” Amaya said.
 “It’s not,” you flatly corrected.
 “It can be if you let it,” Alicia suggested.
 You rolled your eyes again and fiddled with your phone. “Guys, he’s juggling two women.”
 “You don’t know that,” Amya blurted out, the first to come to his defense.
 “Explain two women blowing up his phone daily for a week and a half. Explain that. As a woman, I am not going to blowing up any man’s phone like that unless I’m sleeping with him.”
You looked between them and watched as they both came up with their defenses.
 “That could be anything. Sisters,” Amaya suggested.
 “He has no sisters, four brothers.”
 “Brother’s wives?”
 You narrowed your eyes and gave them the “do I look stupid” look, but they continued.
 “Assistants, he is an actor,” Amaya added.
 After kissing your teeth in the loudest way possible, you rolled your eyes. “Whatever.”
 “Ask him,” Alicia advised.
 “For what? There is no reason to. We are nothing to each other,” you concluded.
 The two of them sat there quietly, looking at you as if you were a bold face liar. You didn’t care. It was your truth.
 “When you got home, did you touch yourself?”
 Your jaw dropped as you gaped at her. “Shut up!”
 “Oh my god!” Amaya’s loud ass mouth brought all the eyes. You had to cover your face as they obnoxiously laughed at you.
 “Enough. We’re done rehashing this,” you grumbled.
 “Wait, one last thing. During dinner, did you ever get the impression that he couldn’t wait for it to be over or that this may be all about a conquest?”
 You knew what she was doing. Amaya was not as slick as she thought she was. You rolled your eyes again and sighed before you answered. “No.”
 “Okay.”
 That was all she came back with as if her hypothesis needed no further defense. They always ganged up on you, and it was clear where they stood in this new situation, and it wasn’t with you.
 Shopping followed your brunch, but that was cut short by the paparazzi hounding you after the third store you emerged from. Someone must have dropped the tip to bring them. It was a madhouse and an immediate good time killer. The three of you had to alternate your plan for a day of fun and finished it out with a drive to Santa Monica to enjoy the boardwalk. All in all, it turned out to be a really chill day, one that you’d needed more than you knew.
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By the time you got back to your house, it was nearing six. Once in front of your door, your jaw dropped seeing a jaw-dropping floral arrangement sitting there. You didn’t know who it was from, but you had your suspicions. It took some strength, but you managed to get it inside to your kitchen. With it on the counter, you just stared at it. Under the light, it was even more beautiful than outside. After admiring the display for a few moments, you pulled the card from between the leaves and petals then read it.
 -Aliya,
I hope this finds you well. I had a great time last night, and it was because you trusted me enough to give me time to prove why I deserve your time. Hopefully, this is just the first of many dates.
 -Henry-
 What started as a straight face turned to a small smile, which led to a full-on elated, goofy grin. He was unpredictable for sure and so damn polite. Damn the British; you thought as you buried your nose in the bouquet. You moaned and inhaled the aroma of flowers that looked like they’d cost a pretty penny. He was definitely working overtime, that was for sure. The question you had now was what exactly did he want.
 Sighing, you took out your phone and opened up your messages prepared to shoot him a quick thank you text. With your finger hovering over one of the letters in your keyboard, you sighed again, feeling the overwhelming urge to call instead. After putting it on speaker, you sat in the barstool and waited two rings until Henry’s deep voice filled your kitchen.
 “Hello?”
 Your belly did backflips.
 “Hi,” you whispered.
 “Hi. How are you?”
 “Good.”
 You were desperately trying to recover from the unexpected reaction his voice had.
 “Glad to hear it. I called you earlier.”
 “Uh—I must have missed it. I was catching up with some friends.”
 “Okay,” he replied.
 Silence fell between you as each of you waited for the other to speak.
 “Um, I wanted to call and thank you,” you began.
 “For what?”
 “The flowers I’m looking at. They’re incredibly beautiful.”
 “Do you like them? The florist said the day after flowers should be subtle and sincere rather than flashy or extravagant,” Henry explained.
 You smiled wider as you checked the mental box for him being considerate.
 “Well, the florist knows what she’s talking about. They are perfect; you chose well.”
 “Good. I’m glad you like them.” He sounded like he was smiling as widely as you were.
 “How do you know where I live?”
 He paused for a few moments before he spoke. “I had your phone for twelve days. I probably know more about you than most of the world.”
 Those could have been the creepiest words you’d heard in a long time, and it was like your head was trying to figure out if you should take it as a red flag or laugh.
 “Have I freaked you out?”
 The way he said it sounded like he was finding amusement in it. You snorted and shook your head.
 “Why would you say that? Just because you went through my phone and figured out where I lived to send flowers? No, isn’t that what normal men do?”
 Henry’s laugh followed your words, and it drastically did away with any awkward tension that was in the air.
 “With you saying it out loud, I can see how you’d be freaked.”
 “To be honest, my initial reaction was shock, and then, strangely enough, it went away like this was everyday life,” you explained.
 “I’m really not trying to freak you out; I promise,” Henry pressed.
 “Then what are you trying to do exactly?”
 The silence returned, and you wondered if he would even answer the question.
 “Right now—I’m trying to ask you to have dinner with me tonight.”
 You put your head on the cold granite of your counter and sighed out.
 “We just had dinner last night.”
 “I’m told, based on human physiology, we actually have to eat three or more meals a day in order to sustain,” Henry explained.
 “Really?”
 “Yeah. Don’t shoot the messenger.”
 You smiled again and rested your chin in your palms.
 “Don’t you have things to do?”
 “I might, but I don’t care. I’d like to have dinner with you instead.” His conviction was so damn sexy. He wasn’t shy about professing his wants.
 “What if I have work to do and can’t shrug it off like you, Superman?”
 “I’m sure you can if you want to. Guess that’s the question. Do you want to? I take it you’re a woman who does what she wants when she wants no matter what. I doubt scheduling conflicts could keep you away from a dinner with someone you wanted to be at dinner with. Do you want to?”
 He probably did well in school with debate. He spoke beautifully and had a way with words.
 “I’m going to be at Taylor’s Steakhouse in Koreatown at nine tonight. I’ll wait until nine-thirty. Hopefully, I see you there,” Henry said before he hung up.
 Pressing your fingertips to your eyes, you groaned loudly. “Oh my god!”
 You stared at the flowers again and toyed with the petal of one of the blush-colored roses. The debate of the night wasn’t if you wanted to go or not. It was if you should or not.
 By the time you were dressed, it was close to eight forty-five. You were sitting in your closet in front of the mirror, still trying to convince yourself to go.
 “It’s no big deal, Aliya. It’s food, drinks, nothing more.”
 Your words sounded sure, but your face looked anything but.
 “Then why did you put so much effort in if it’s no big deal?”
 You sat there going back and forth with yourself like a crazy person. For every pro, you had you quickly came up with a con. It was endless. When your phone rang, you expected it to be Henry but were relieved when you saw it was your grandmother.
 “Oh my goodness, Gramaw. How did you know I needed you?”
 “I felt your distress. What’s wrong?”
 “I have a date, but I don’t know if I should go,” you blurted out.
 “Date with who?”
 She sounded shocked, and you didn’t blame her. It had been years since you’d spoken to anyone about a man, let alone a date. You spent the next ten or so minutes explaining everything to her, not leaving out one bit of information. You needed her to understand the situation now and give you the best advice.
 “Wow,” she uttered.
 “Yep.”
 “Why exactly are you debating going? It sounds like this has been decided for you.”
 “Uggh! Fate. I hate fate.”
 Your Gramaw laughed at you. She was one of those old souls who firmly believed in fate, destiny, and all the hoopla around it. You, on the other hand, had been disenchanted by it all.
 “Why do you hate fate?”
 “It’s always been hanging around me,” you whined. Again she laughed.
 “Oh honey, this is the first time fate has been anywhere near you. Other times has been sheer coincidence.”
 “So, you think this is fate.” You’d be lying if you said the thought hadn’t flashed across your mind. It had, but you would never admit that out loud.
 “It’s not for me to say. What do you think?”
 “I think this is very unwelcomed. I think I don’t have the time or the energy for this. I think I don’t want these feelings. I think—I’ve never felt anything like this. I think--e’s beautiful,” you finished with a sigh.
 “What is it that you want to do?”
 You groaned because if you knew the answer to that, you wouldn’t have been calling her. You cursed and dropped back onto the floor to lay there until you’d gotten your shit together.
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By the time you got to Taylor’s, you were late. You were always late. The time on your phone said he would be leaving in fifteen minutes if he hadn’t just gotten fed up and left already.
 “Welcome to Taylor’s I’m Kimmie. Do you have a reservation?”
 “Um—well, I’m meeting someone here.”
 “Okay. What’s the party’s name?”
 You looked around, making sure no one was watching then leaned closer. “Henry,” you whispered.
 “Ha, yes, he did mention he was expecting someone. I should have put two and two together. He’s a celebrity, and you’re a celebrity. Duh,” she rambled. You didn’t know if she was anxious, nervous, or if it was her normal thing. She cleared her throat and spoke again.
 “Right this way.”
 It was like she was a completely different person. You followed her through the restaurant taking note of the exits. She lead you through a set of double wooden doors that led to a whole separate side of the restaurant. This area had its lights dimmed a little lower and looked more secluded. As you approached the table, you saw him sitting near a window sipping a drink. He looked nervous; it was adorable. You couldn’t help but smile. It was then he looked your way, and the moment it sank in, you saw him release a breath as if he’d been holding it the whole time.
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“Enjoy your evening,” Kimmie muttered. It was then you realized you’d been standing in front of him, not saying one word.
 “You came.” He sounded surprised.
 “I’m sorry, I’m late. My Gramaw called, and I got caught up in conversation.” It wasn’t a lie per se. You didn’t need to tell him she had to talk you off the ledge.
 Henry stood and walked to the seat diagonal from him. “It’s okay,” Henry began pulling out the seat for you. You sat and allowed him to push it in for you. “Truth be told, I would have waited past nine-thirty,” He whispered into your ear, giving you a hint of his cologne and what he was drinking in that glass. Bourbon. As he walked back to his seat, you tried to keep your thirst under control.
 “Thank you.”
 “You look very fetching,” Henry added.
 “Fetching? Oh, the English gentleman is shining through tonight I see.”
 Henry smiled widely, showing off his perfect teeth. “I’m always a gentleman.”
 “Thank you. You look very striking,” you countered. He began blushing, and that blush had a shiver rushing through you.
 “Are you all right?”
 “Yes.”
 “Got a chill did you?” You could hear the cocky in his voice. The man had every reason to be.
 “Sure did. This is pretty impressive,” you said, motioning to your surroundings.
 “You’ve never been?”
 “No. I don’t venture out a lot. I find four or five restaurants I like and stick with them.”
 “So not so adventurous, huh,” Henry surmised.
 “I’m too busy really.”
 “Ah, the life of a mogul,” Henry teased.
 “I am no mogul.”
 “I think you are, someone important,” Henry concluded.
 “Oh, I think there is more to the definition than that.”
 “Maybe you’re right. What do you call yourself?”
 “Aliya,” you joked.
 “Cute.”
 “Thanks for noticing, you teased. “I don’t think of myself the way others seem to think of me.”
 “Welcome to Taylor’s. I’m Sam. I’ll be your waiter. Can I start you guys off with drinks?”
 “I’m ahead of you by one, catch up,” Henry said, raising his glass.
 “Um, how about a Negroni?”
 “Coming up,” Sam said before he walked away.
 “Another Guinness?”
 “No, Bourbon,” Henry corrected. The way he said it sound so prime and proper. He sounded better than James Bond himself.
 “Oh, Bourbon man too?”
 “Tell me,” Henry urged as he sat back in his seat.
 “Bourbon dry, hmmm. Only rich men drink it like that. Or men who come from money. They say the ice ruins the flavor of it, so they prefer to have it the way it’s intended. You’re sophisticated, fun, intelligent, and you value honesty and things right between the eyes. You don’t like games, and always know what you want. You might even be difficult and used to getting your own way and don’t know what to do when someone goes against it.”
 His smile was so telling. You’d gotten it completely right.
 “I do like getting my way,” he confirmed.
“I know.”
 “What about you?”
 “I usually get what I want. I’ve never had anyone not give me what I want,” you said. Henry laughed loudly.
 “I bet.”
 “What does that mean?”
 “Sadly, men do not know how to go against a pretty face,” Henry clarified.
 You stifled your laugh, letting out only a snort. “So that’s all you see when you look at me? A pretty face?”
 The waiter came back just in time with your drinks. Henry looked speechless. He asked if you guys were ready to place your orders, but neither of you had even looked at the menu. When he left promising to be back in a little while, Henry spoke.
 “I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to.”
 “I’m not offended,” you said before you sipped your drink and moaned as the flavors filled your mouth. “This is good.”
 “When I look at you, I don’t see a pretty face.”
 “Oh no? So my face is ugly?”
 “No!” He cleared his throat, then began again. “You’re very beautiful.”
 “So just a pretty face then.”
 He looked so flustered you wanted to bust out laughing. The longer you continued this teasing, you knew you’d end up laughing in his face. It was cute how panicked he looked.
 “Aliya, you are drop-dead gorgeous. There is no lie about that, no mistaking it or looking past it. When I look at you, I see something I’m drawn to. There is something about you, this aura. I get the sense that you’re down to Earth, kind, smarter than anyone knows and deeply a good person.”
 As you sipped your drink again, you smiled on the glass. He had a way with words for sure.
 “You are good under pressure.”
 “Was that a test?”
 You shrugged with a smile on your face. “ If it was, you passed.”
 Again Henry laughed and shook his head; he didn’t look angry though.
 Throughout dinner, the conversation never stopped. You talked about everything from his family to acting and the experiences you both had in the industry. The longer you talked, the more you realized you had plenty of things in common. You laughed at all his jokes, but not because you felt like you had to, he was genuinely funny. Every time he spoke, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of his mouth, which led you to look at his neck and the peeks of hair on his chest. Your fingers tingled from the want to touch. You could listen to him talk all night. It was an exciting revelation, and you were interested in what other revelations you’d have before the night was through.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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thebmatt · 3 years
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FFXIV Write 2021 Prompt #30: Abstracted
Abstracted – to have considered (something) theoretically or separately from something else.
I don’t like how I ended this one, but I was trying to wrap it up after midnight, so it’s a bit abrupt. I’ll likely work on it a bit more before I publish it in AO3 later.
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“So those crystals, Aetherytes , you said? They allow you to teleport to any that you’ve previously attuned your aether to?”
Aleister Franks nodded. “Indeed. So long as your body has sufficient reserves of aether, of course. Tends to depend on how hearty you are, physically speaking, so adventurers and military folk may the most use of em.”
Gwenefyr Franks stared at the aetheryte. “Well…that’s pretty amazing. Something like this would have seriously cut into all those tips I made making portals back home.”
He laughed. “That it would. All right, now that you’re all attuned yourself, next stop on the tour, or perhaps the last stop, is right over there!”
Gwenefyr grabbed his hand and together, the pair walked eastward.
“Welcome to Bulwark Hall, the heart of the Mizzenmast, love. Originally built as a stronghold to protect the rest of the city from invasion. Elevators over there…” he pointed to the right of the central column of rock occupying the chamber “…will take us back up to the Drowning Wench once we’re done here, and further up to the airship landing we’ll be seeing tomorrow morning on our journey to the rest of the city-states. ” He pointed to the left. “Over there, that’s a direct lift to the Bridge, offices of Admiral Merlwyb and the rest of Limsa Lominsa’s governing officials. And sadly, much as I’d love to introduce you to the Admiral, the man guarding the lift there, his name’s Zanthael, and he’s a real stick-in-the-arse for only letting people with pressing official business in!”
Zanthael looked over to the couple, smiled, and tossed up a rude hand gesture.
Gwenefyr looked back to the doors to their right and left, both slightly behind them. “And what’re those doors for?”
“Um….storage I think? I’ve never been in, they’re always barred shut. Never even seen anyone guarding them, to be honest.”
“Then why is there a man waving at us from that one?“
Aleister looked to her, then followed her gaze to the door on their right, across from the Crow’s Lift. Sure enough, there was a roegadyn man there, clad in a Maelstrom soldier’s uniform. He was waving at the pair, and upon seeing he had both of their attention, gestured for them to follow. He then stepped inside the pair of doors and left one slightly ajar.
Gwen looked at her husband. “Do you know him?”
He shook his head. “No, but there’s a lot of people in the Maelstrom. Can’t imagine what he wants to talk about, though. Still, guess we’d better go see.”
“Lead the way, husband mine.”
The pair walked over and Aleister opened the door to let Gwen go through first, but as soon as it was ajar enough, the pair were both pulled into a shimmering blue portal by an unseen force. Their vision went white.
A few seconds later, both of them were able to open their eyes only to see that they were surrounded by what was definitely not the rock of the Mizzenmast, but instead a large chamber enclosed by what looked like ship bulkheads made of metal. Various technological devices, things that reminded Aleister of Allagan consoles and holographic displays were mounted all along every wall.
“Uh…where the hell are we?” Gwenefyr asked, sounding very concerned.
“I uh….I really don’t know, but unless the Admiral’s been keeping a secret treasure trove of Allagan technology concealed, I somehow doubt we’re in Limsa anymore.”
“We got pulled in, too. Just like I did when I found the portal that brought me here. Do you think that…”
He nodded. “It’s a logical conclusion. Let’s see if we can figure out where we are.”
“Or you could just ask”
Gwen and Aleister jumped, then quickly scanned the room. The voice had come from somewhere, but neither could immediately identify the source.
“Oops. Sorry for startling you. I’m actually not in there, though. I’m further in the….well, ship is probably the best way to describe this. I’m transmitting my voice from the bridge to you via a speaker. But enough about that. I suspect you want to know who I am and why I’ve brought you here, right?”
The pair looked at each other, then Aleister replied. “That would be correct. Assuming you don’t mean to do us harm.”
“Oh, no, not at all. But come, I’ll explain everything once we’re face to face. You should see some green lights on the floor, just follow them, it’ll take you on the most direct path here.”
Sure enough, a series of green lights illuminated the floor in an arrow pattern, which pointed to a section of the wall that slid down into the floor, revealing a hallway big enough for the pair to comfortably walk side by side. More green lighting illuminated the space within.
“You think this is on the level?” Gwen asked.
“I….think so. Whoever this is, this ‘ship’ of theres is packed full of technology more advanced than anything I’ve seen, now that I look more closely. This looks very different than anything I’ve ever seen from Allagan sites, and….I can’t explain it, but it just feels more powerful. Whoever this is, I think if they wanted us harmed, we’d never likely know it was coming. I suppose all we can do now is investigate.”
Gwen didn’t look entirely convinced, but nodded and grabbed his hand again.
The pair ventured down the hallway. As they continued to walk, more lights further up the path illuminated. Aleister noted that there were no other spaces in the floor for lights, nor did they have any kind of a path built into the deck that led any of the other doorways he noted as they walked.
He was intently studying them for the few minutes they’d been walking when Gwen held him fast. He stopped and looked to her, but she pointed ahead. He saw a shimmering transluscent field was obstructing the path, generated by some sort of emitters lining the walls and ceiling.
“Oh right. Hold on a second, lemme disable that. That’s one of the ship’s reality reset fields. You pass through that and….well, it’ll essentially reset your form to, ah, what it used to look like. Pretty sure you guys don’t want that, and I don’t want to do it to you.“
The field shimmered and then faded out of existence. The emitters retreated inside the wall, a series of flaps closing over them.
They continued along the illuminated path until it came to a doorway. The lights ran up the wall and illuminated the shape of a pointing hand that indicated the closed door. The door opened to reveal a large dome shaped room, dominated by a massive viewport that covered fully half of the dome, outside of which they could see an entire world just hanging in the blackness. Parked in the middle of the room were a series of those strange advanced consoles arranged in an arch around a single utilitarian chair seemingly bolted to the floor and facing away from the pair.
Aleister was dumbfounded by the sheer spectacle, but Gwenefyr found her voice. “This is….incredible. What is this??”
The chair spun to reveal a man sitting in it. He was a hyur, or at least resembled one. He looked somewhat stocky, wearing dark blue pants of what looked like a utilitarian fabric, made as a mix of durable and comfortable, and a red shirt with an image in white lines that neither of them recognized. His short hair and longer beard were both dark in color, but going grey at the edges. Excitement could be seen behind his black-rimmed spectacles as he stood to greet them. “Hey, hey, there they are! Been looking forward to meeting you two for quite some time!”
He extended a hand, and both of them tenatively shook it.
“Who…who are you? What even is this place?” Aleister asked, still not quite able to stop himself from looking around.
“Hah, right on to business I see. Well, can’t say I blame you, this is probably a lot to take in. Well, let me start. My name is Brandon. As to what this place is, we’ll get to that. And as to why I extended this invitation to you? Well, that’s a real long story, but it starts with me telling you this: Like you, I’m not from this, ah…what’s the term you guys use here…Star, that’s it! Not from this star.”
That got their attention. Both turned to look at him immediately. “Are you…are you an explorer of some kind?” Aleister asked, a mixture of awe and a little hope in his voice.”
Brandon shook his head. “Not exactly, no. But, perhaps I should start at the beginning.” He gestured to the massive viewport, at the round image that dominated it. “You recognize this, I take it?”
“That…that’s Hydaelyn, isn’t it? From far away, as if viewed in the firmament of the night sky” Aleister replied.
Brandon nodded. “Very good. And this?” He reached outword, hands splayed open. Small blue cubes of light appeared around his fingertips and be brought them closer together in front of him. As he did, the image in the viewport changed. Hydaelyn shrank and other spheres appeared, smaller copies forming a circle of which Hydaelyn was a part, but with gaps in multiple places.
“Wait, I recognize that pattern from one of the texts Urianger gave me! Is that supposed to be…the shards?” Gwenefyr asked.
“Indeed! But now comes the kicker.” Brandon brought his hands even closer, and the viewport shifted again. The circle of worlds shrank and moved to a side and a whole host of other illuminated spheres, each with is own ring of smaller spheres forming their own circles, appeared.
Franks just stared, mouth agape. There had to be well over a hundred of the circles. “What….what are those?”
Brandon smiled. “That, my friend, are other Hydaelyns.”
Gwenefyr gasped as Franks whirled to face him. “You…you did it! You figured out how to do it? What’s the secret, what have I been missing?”
Brandon’s expression shifted into a frown. “We’ll….get there. Still a lot I need to show you. But first…” He brought his hands together fully.
The viewport shifted again. All of the Hydaelyns shrank further, displaying as a wedge, barriered by a line of light, and adjacent to it…were even more worlds, each marked by a barrier of their own, arranged next to each other as though they were part of a large wheel that only a small section of could be seen.
Brandon raised his left hand, only two fingers extended, and made a swiping motion to the right. The display of the wheel shifted, the wedge of Hydaelyns moving to the right and a new wedge with its own series of white lights. An electronic chimed intoned and text appeared on the viewscreen below the wedge.
“Azeroth” Gwenefyr intoned, somewhat breathlessly.
Brandon nodded. “Inside there is your original home….along with with thirty-seven different versions of the universe of Azeroth. Each unique and distinct from each other in a myriad of ways”
“And that, my friends, is the tip of the iceberg of what we like to call the multiverse. A grouping of universes, mostly alike in structure and history, with different versions of a vast majority of the same people found on all of them, but each with certain ‘key differences’ that make them unique. Divergent points in history, different people in key positions of influence or power, things like that. All of them represented by a single one of these wedges. Swipe to another wedge, and you have a set of completely different universes with a different set of rules, history, people, entirely unrelated to anything in another wedge, with their own different universes with ‘key differences’, and yes thats a technical term by the way.”
He extended his hand again and continued swiping. That same chime played with each swipe, and another wedge moved to the center, text appearing that neither of the visitors managed to retain.
“Just to give you an idea of how many of these ‘universal clusters’ there are, I could sit here and swipe once every second, and it would be twelve hours before I even got halfway.”
Aleister turned back to him “I have so many questions…”
Brandon held up a hand to stop him. “I know. But first, you need to understand who I am, or more accurately, who I represent.
“Uncountable eons ago, there was a race of beings, the original name of which has long been lost, who were incredibly technologically advanced. They discovered the existence of other universes and before long, developed a way to generate gateways that crossed the metaphysical barrier that lie between them all. They found a universe similar to their own, but with seemingly small but impactful differences between them. But like them, their neighbors were peaceful, dedicated to knowledge and cooperation for the good of all, and so they established diplomatic relations with each other, working together to benefit both of their peoples.”
“This cooperation proved boonful, and so they did it again and again. A central citadel, home of a dozen different gateways to differing versions of their universe, was established over time, allowing the best minds to collaborate with each other and advance their civilizations together, for the good of all. The completion of a new gateway became a cultural holiday known as ‘Opening Day’, People from all over the varying universes would get together with their own counterparts and celebrate.”
“Unfortunately, they made an assumption. Every universe they’d traveled to, while having some cultural or political differences to overcome, ultimately was not terribly different. Their race was still the dominant one of the world, and they ultimately wanted the same thing, to be brought forward into their shared age of enlightenment and reason.”
“The very last gateway they ever opened was to a universe dominated by a predatory insectoid species that every other universe had destroyed early in their recorded histories. In this universe, however, the insectoids had won. And over time, they’d evolved into a vicious hiveminded swarm that had consumed nearly all other forms of life on their world. And they….were hungry”
Brandon’s face grew somber. “What followed, as you can imagine, was a cataclysm. The insectoids poured through the gateway in uncountable numbers, consuming all in their path. And since all the other gateways were centralized in the same spire, they soon expanded into every other universe. growing in vast numbers as they consumed more and more biomass. The race had no weapons to stop them, they had evolved past a need for them, and so they stood no chance against the insectoid’s single unified mind driving their massive vicious forms.”
“It took only a few months before the race was all but extinct. The insectoids had utterly consumed their entire civilization and culture. I say ‘all but’ because some two dozen did survive, boarding a small number of experimental craft meant to traverse the inter-universal space that separated them. What they found was that there were no other universes belonging to their people. They were all that remained. But as they explored the rift between worlds in their ships, they found others. Nothing like them, but full of live and people of varying kinds. But they also found others where forces of destructive power reigned as well, forces that would consume other universes if they were to learn of them”
“They vowed that they would never let the mistake they’d made happen again. The multiverse was glorious, yes, but also fragile. It needed to be kept safe from itself. And so they would become its Sentinels, watchful protectors and guardians.”
Brandon looked between them both. “And that’s who I work for. The Sentinels. They employ agents from across the multiverse to keep a close eye on individual sectors, a small group of universal clusters. I have the responsibility of keeping watch over the myriad versions of both Hydaelyn and Azeroth, among others. And that’s why we’re speaking today.”
Brandon brought up the images of the Hydaelyn wedge on the monitor. “Now, for nearly everyone, travel between universes is simply impossible. They can’t even fathom that it exists. There are powerful entities in some that might have the capability to tunnel through the inter-universal rift, but again, our best advantage is that they simply don’t know it exists. We keep a close eye on these entities, but most of the cross-universe incursions we have to deal with happen spontaneously and on small scales. Small portals between universes will spontaneously manifest, and sometimes living creatures will get caught up in them. WHen they’re dangerous, we intervene. Agents, like myself, are empowered to recruit beings from these universes to travel to a universe that something hazardous from their own has appeared in, and deal with the problem. They go home, we agents come in and wipe the memories of anyone who saw anything, and life goes on for everyone. These assets then go on with their own pursuits until such time as they are needed again, if ever. They are sworn to secrecy about the multiverse’s existence, but otherwise we ask no other obligations of them.”
“However, your case was a different one, Aleister. In your case, you not only didn’t threaten the universe you ended up in, you ended up actively working towards ending the threat of that universes versions of the Ascians, who as you might imagine are on our “shitlist” of potential problem entities. I decided to watch and see what you did, and you did not disappoint. You kept your origins secret, for the most part, and made yourself an even bigger threat to them. Normally, a cross universe incursion signals us to destroy a spontaneously generated portal, we keep them open for study until that happens, but yours we left open as a result of your choices.”
He looked over to Gwenefyr. “What I absolutely did not expect was that, in her tenacity to be reunited with you, your lady love would also find that portal and go through herself. And while I am a romantic at heart who is thrilled to see you reunited and happy, unfortunately, you’ve told your story to an increasing number of people on your Hydaelyn, which has forced me to act.
Aleister tensed. “Act? To what end?”
“As I said, secrecy is our prime directive. The more people know, the more danger the multiverse is in. You’ve not only told a fair number of people in your version of Hydaelyn, but thanks to the portal’s presence, your version of the Exarch managed to summon heroes to help you from other universes. In every other universe, he summoned people from that universe’s shards. Not in yours. The same thing happened when Rheika used Azem’s crystal against Elidibus. She brought allies from yet another universe. And in both of those instances, those Warriors of Light became aware of the multiverse, opening more avenues for the knowledge to spread. We cannot have that.”
Franks threw up his hands in frustration. “But look at the good we did! The final two unsundered Ascians, defeated! Who knows what other good we could accomplish if the Warriors of Light from all of the Hydaelyns came together? How many more universes could we save from their Ascians, and how quickly?”
Brandon pointed a finger at him. “And this is why I had to sabotage your experiments, you don’t comprehend the consequences of what you are doing. You forget the lesson of the Sentinel’s origins, already! If we do that, then everyone learns of the multiverse very quickly, and then they’ll start trying to enter it on their own. Look at this!”
WIth a series of gestures, Brandon brought a small number of differing Hydaelyn-and-Shards rings into view. He pointed to one of them. “That one? That’s your adopted home. Hydaelyn-83, by our numbering.” He pointed to the closest one. “This one is Hydaelyn-82, your ‘neighbor’ metaphysically speaking.” Four figures appeared on the viewport. “Recognize anyone?”
Aleister looked at the figures. One was a dark-haired midlander woman, another was a dark-skinned rava viera. He recognized neither of them, but the last two, a red-skinned xaela woman and a dark-skinned elezen with purple and red hair, he did remember. “Yes, those two. That’s Toragana and Veilette, they helped us defeat Hades!”
Brandon nodded. “Just so. On their world, these four are the Warriors of Light. Unlike you and yours, however, they allowed themselves to be almost wholly defined by the traumas of their past and elected to use their power to ensure that none would ever control them again. They would utterly destroy any who crossed them, in the name of dispensing justice, including Gaius van Baelsar, who did not escape the Praetorium alive as he did in your world. Their relationships with the Scions and the leaders of the city-states was extremely strained, but it was Gaius’ own death that proved to be their undoing. Without him, Valens van Varro’s WEAPON project went unopposed in secret, and he unleashed them in a devastating attack on Limsa Lominsa, utterly destroying the city and killing three of the four Warriors of Light.”
Toragana and the two unknown women disappeared from the viewport.
“With her sisters dead, Veilette went into hiding with what few followers she had. Though she had killed the Unsundered, no one was able to stop Fandaniel’s plans from moving forward. Now this Hydaelyn is a ravaged battlefield between Lunar Primals and Garlean warmachina, with the rest of the world caught in the middle, hiding in what few pockets of safety remain. Would you go to that world and potentially expose yours to that danger?”
Brandon pointed to another cluster. “Or perhaps this one? Hydaelyn-72. On this one, the Ascians miscalculated. They rejoined the First with the source, empowering the Black Rose gas with all of that Light aether from the First, but it was more potent than they imagined. The gas was extremely virulent, sweeping throughout the entire world, turning everything it touched into Sin Eaters. Now that Hydaelyn is a death world, a barren wasteland roamed by beasts of light and choked by toxic air, while the Ascians wonder how to salvage their grand plan. Would you see someone inadvertently open a portal to that universe and see that toxic air claim another entire star?”
Both Franks looked on in horror. Aleister spoke. “I….I see your point. But could the Sentinels not stop such things?”
Brandon laughed. “We don’t have the numbers or the tech to stop entire armies in a fight or to contain a virulent toxic gas from spreading. There’s a reason we try to keep universes contained, and that’s because if we don’t, once it progresses past a certain point, we don’t have a way to stop it. And so we work from the shadows, clipping small problems before they get big and erasing memories so no one remembers any of it that we don’t want to.”
Franks clasped his hands in front of his face, as Gwen placed a hand on his shoulder. “So, you said you had to act because I came here. What happens now?”
Brandon crossed his arms, his expression softening. “Well, per our protocol, I’ve got two choices for you. Choice one, I wipe both of your memories of all of your time on Hydaelyn-83, return you to your Azeroth, and wipe everyone’s memory of ever having met you. I don’t want to do that one, I really don’t. You’ve proven a net benefit to 83, you really have, but I have to contain this. So there’s my second option, you two, along with everyone else in the Scions that you’ve told, officially sign up as assets for us. If something from a Hydaelyn threatens people in another universe, I ask you to help me deal with it, you do so. I should stress that this is not a common occurrence and when it does happen, it’s even more rare that it’s a really difficult threat. Otherwise you live your lives with the knowledge you have of the multiverse with no other interference, from us at least, so long as you don’t spread what you know. Just know that if you take that option, the portal closes too. You never can go back to your original universe.”
Anger emerged on Gwen’s face. “You can’t possibly expect us to make that decision on our own. We have to talk to them, let them decide for themselves! They need to know what we’re asking of them!”
Brandon smiled. “Already did that. Told them all everything I told you yesterday. Every single one agreed to sign up and keep what they know secret, but only if you chose to stay. They didn’t want you to not have the choice to ‘go home’ as Dahkar put it.”
Aleister looked over at Gwen, who nodded to him. “It’s not our home anymore, we already came to terms with that. If our friends agreed to this, then it’s pretty clear how much they’re willing to do to let us stay, So, we accept.”
Brandon clapped his hands. “Great! I’ll take care of everything else. Just remember, absolutely no sharing this knowledge with anyone else, and no more cross-universe gateway experiments on your own, okay? Awesome. You guys can head out through that door, it’ll take you back where you came in. And don’t worry about being seen, I put up a small field around that doorway that basically makes people suddenly remember far more important things whenever they look at it. No one should bat an eye at you.” He gestured to a newly opened door that Aleister was fairly confident was not there before.
He extended a hand to Gwen, who took it. The pair smiled at each other and walked out of the ship, not looking back.
They emerged from the same doors they’d entered in Bulwark Hall. As Brandon had promised, no one even looked twice at them.
Aleister sighed. “Well, that was….a thing. I guess we better get back to the Rising Stones and tell the other Scions what happened here.”
Gwen nodded. “You think we made the right choice? I mean, I know we committed to this already, but this…it’s kinda final.”
Aleister smiled warmly at her. “Now that you’re here and staying with me? Yes, yes I do.”
“Then let’s head home, my love.”
“All right! Ready for your first aetheryte teleport?”
Gwen smirked and began casting the magick, rising into the air as she did. Franks smiled, and followed suit.
The pair winked out of existence, heading towards their future.
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codedredalert · 4 years
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abandoned lawsan fantasy magic royalty arranged marriage fic excerpt
(Earlier this year, I made a deal with @yukino-ks that I'd trade x words of my abandoned lawsan bigbang attempt depending on their exam results. They got 2.6k off me and I've been terribly slow in getting an excerpt I can actually show people. (There's a reason I abandoned over 20k and several editing passes.) It's unbetad and WIP and just an excerpt of a longfic so it has some notes mixed in, but I finally have something I'm willing to let see light of day. Sorry I took so long, and congrats on doing well!)
Warnings: forced marriage, dark themes, magic coercion (I mean, Doffy exists), general background awfulness, but hey cute heart pirates interaction 
.
The engagement ring sat heavy on Sanji's finger, warm with his own body heat and with the faint power of Law's magic. A pale blue stone on a white-gold band, the crisp blank sky of winter finally breaking, the white-blue of lightning, of a glacier cracking as it falls into the sea. 
Law on the marble floor collapsed when the King Donquixote no longer deigned to puppet his broken body with the betrothal ceremony finished. 
Absently, Sanji played with the ring, conscious of the feel of it against his skin, how it changed how he moved his hand. He wondered if Law was awake and about, or if he was still in the deep healing sleep that prompted his servants to close ranks and politely ask Sanji to leave. He wondered if he could ask, or if that would destroy the tentative sort-of friendship they'd started to form before the cruel proceedings of the day before. Sanji had followed his first instinct was to help, to kneel beside Law and help him bear up his weight on fractured bones, to help him back to his tower— it might have done more harm than good. Law was a proud man, and Sanji had inadvertently wounded his pride. 
A knock on the door dragged Sanji from his thoughts.
"Yes?" he asked, dropping his hand to his side and standing. The person at the door merely knocked again, so Sanji opened the door. 
It's Law, his hair messy and in simple sleeping clothes, dark, soft, and formless. His symbol is emblazoned across his chest in yellow. A hint of bruising and the peek of a bandage shows where the fabric drapes off Law's prominent collarbones. 
A stab of pity and empathy and solidarity goes through Sanji, and the hand he has on the handle of the door goes numb as it grips harder, where Law cannot see.
"Come with me," said Law. He started moving away, giving Sanji space to enter the corridor. 
Sanji raised a brow and the oddly visceral feelings evaporated instantly. 
"Good morning to you too," replied Sanji, even as he followed and closed the door behind him. It melded back to the stone wall, perfectly hidden. "Go with you where?" 
"Kitchens." Law's walking gait was slower and shorter than usual, and uneven though he still stood tall. It was almost like yesterday hadn't happened, except for the glimpse of pale metal and yellow stone on his hand. 
"Oh, you're wearing it," came out of Sanji's mouth before he realised how stupid that sounded. He couldn't let his guard down just because his bleeding heart had gone out to Law when it turned out that the Crown Prince was very human behind all the rumours. 
Law blinked at him in surprise, lifting his hand to look at the ring, as if he'd forgot it was there, like it'd always been there and he had only just noticed. 
"Yeah," he said, looking away a bit too quickly. "This way." 
===/\===
A set of heavy wooden doors opened to a cosy kitchen, packed to full with people seated at a long wooden table, laden with plates and bowls of sweet oat porridge, flatbreads, steamed buns, eggs and bacon and beans, with savoury rice porridge, with noodles— cuisines from all over. Sanji barely had a moment to take it all in as everyone at the table jumped up, cheering and clapping. 
"Welcome to His Highness' lover!" someone hooted and loud laughter ensued, whistles and cheering resounded. Someone shoved a champagne flute into his hand and another someone all but dragged him to the bench where somehow the rest of the table squeezed to make space for him. 
"Congrats on being a bad influence on His Highness," the redhead who dragged him to the table said cheerily as he squeezed his chair in to reach the table. "Bread roll?" 
Sanji took one and it was good bread, a crust which crunched lightly under his fingers, soft fluffy insides when he broke it open and placed it on his plate. 
"Bad influence?" asked Sanji, bewildered by the ruckus. He looked round for Law, and found him standing just behind his left shoulder. Law nodded, sipping from a bright yellow mug which he hadn't been holding a moment before.
"You defied Doflamingo," Law explained.
Oh, they had to be referring to the sarcastic backtalk Sanji had made when the giant pink-feather fashion disaster tried to get him to report on Law's comings and goings. So Law had been conscious for that. Sanji was suddenly very glad he'd decided to mouth off instead of try to pretend to play along. Besides, it had been a clever comeback.
"Anything that pisses off the King Asshole, or any of the assholes over in the Toybox, makes you alright with us," the redhead elaborated, dumping half a plate of greasy bacon on Sanji's plate.  
"And if you can get our prince to eat, everyone will love you," the person seated on the redhead's other side said. It was the man with the white and black hat, who had taken a half-unconscious Law from Sanji and barked out orders to the other servants before politely asking Sanji to leave. He frowned as the redhead took the rest of the bacon, stacking the empty plate beneath his own. "And dammit Shachi, I wanted some." 
"Not my fault your food scramble game is weak, Peng. Ask Ikkaku to pass some, there's another plate on the other end of the table," Shachi said unapologetically. The man in the hat rolled his eyes, but turned and yelled down the other end of the table for the bacon. 
Sanji took a moment to process all this and looked back to Law. 
"You don't eat?" asked Sanji, incredulous. 
"I do."
"Coffee isn't food," Peng recited almost like a proverb as he put some bacon on his plate. He did not offer it to Shachi. 
For a moment, Law didn't answer, and then pointedly, he sipped his coffee. It was so bratty and childlike that Sanji nearly choked trying not to laugh. 
Peng rolled his eyes and looked to Sanji. 
"You see what we have to work with?" he said, as if Law couldn't hear them. "The list of what he eats could be written on your palm." 
Now if that weren't a challenge Sanji couldn't refuse— 
"Write it down for me and give me free reign of a kitchen," Sanji replied. "And I'll see what I can do." 
"You don't have to," Law started to say, just as Peng grinned and said "Done!", reaching over Shachi's plate to shake Sanji's hand. 
Sanji shook on it, excited for the chance to cook again for the first time since coming to Dressrosa. Law rolled his eyes, but fondly. If he'd really wanted to, he could order otherwise. It was… nice, that he let this go. 
"Do you think I could try some?" asked the huge polar bear toy seated on Law's other side. Sanji startled, still not quite used to toys talking, but Law's hand just went up to pat the toy bear on his nose.
"You can't eat, Bepo. Otherwise I have to operate on you again and wash out your stuffing." Law paused. "I don't know why you like it anyway. It's not like you can taste it."
"It looks pretty and everyone else gets to eat. I feel lonely."
Law patted Bepo on the nose again comfortingly. 
"It's not that great," said Law. He finished his coffee.
Sanji resolved then and there to make Law eat those words with dinner. 
===/\===
[More conversation, Shachi and Bepo are escorting Sanji back to his room. Originally, I had fun worldbuilding stuff about how much Law hates the tower and Bepo's origin story but it's not relevant in the excerpt.]
"What's that?" asked Sanji. In a short joining corridor between this homey servant's kitchen and the lonely tower and its rooms which lock from the outside, there was a space where he could see a sliver of sky, and a splash of colour below. 
"What's what?" asked Shachi. Sanji gestured over the side of the open down to a sort of courtyard garden, with flowering plants grown in elaborate patterns so from the top down, they formed complicated motifs and images of a strange ship breaking the waves, a treasure chest and a heart. 
"It's pretty, right?" said Bepo cheerfully. "His Highness does it himself, he moves the flowers around when he's had a bad dream. He says it makes him feel better." 
There was space, paths amongst the flowers, a couple of benches and a small pavilion, along with the little pond and irrigation system and lights. 
"It's Law's garden, then," said Sanji, an idea coming to mind. "Say, is there a table in that pavillion?" 
===/\===
[Sanji cooks dinner for Law and they have a nice romantic dinner in the pavillion but Law Does Not Care about food and that is honestly kind of upsetting for Sanji. I had to cut my favourite part of the entire fic out and that hurtie just a bit.]
"If you've had enough of forcing me to eat—" Law said, and Sanji wanted to snap at that, but Law managed to finish his sentence first. "Do you want to take a walk?" 
"I thought you had work to do?" replied Sanji, a little coldly, but Law didn't seem to notice. He shrugged.
"It can wait, I'll be up late tonight anyway."
They walk. The air is cold, and clouds roll through the courtyard sometimes, wisp and damp and cold. The courtyard meets the side wall of the castle, and on the other side is the steep drop into a distant dark fog. 
It didn't take long to walk the entirety of the courtyard, small as it was. They sat on the lone bench, it was dewy with the condensation of the clouds and the rapidly cooling night. 
"So, with all this, I take it you want to try and act like lovers," commented Law. 
It was more a judgment than a question. Sanji stiffened, was Law going to make fun of him? 
"Not with that attitude," Sanji retorted. His hand went to his pocket for his cigarettes. He lit one, agitated and feeling like the effort he'd put into making the evening nice was, all in all, a nett waste. 
Law considered Sanji without taking any offence. 
"I'm not interested anyway. Don't get me wrong," Law added quickly, a hand outstretched as Sanji sat straighter, half-way to standing and walking away. "You're plenty attractive, and if it's sex you want, I could show you a good time." 
"You know the meaning of the word?" 
Law ignored his interjection. 
"It's the… other things," he continued calmly. "The holding hands and fancy dinners and being sentimental. I'm not good at that. I'm not going to stab you if you look at another man, and I'd prefer the same vice versa." 
Sanji looked at him flatly. 
"What." 
"It's common enough around here that there's a proverb that... never mind, the explanation is too long. The point is, if romance is what you're hoping to get out of this marriage, I'm going to disappoint. I can put up with it a little bit but not for long."
"Why the marriage, then?"
Law's head snapped to him sharply. His expression made him look more angry than confused, though his tone when he spoke was confused. 
"I told you, after the ceremony," Law said, as if he expected Sanji to remember every detail said when Law had been crumpled on the floor and bleeding through his engagement suit. "We both got signed away without having any say in it. I thought we had an understanding, and I'm surprised you want something more. I mean, it's…" He couldn't seem to find an adjective for it. "Well. it's something. That you want to try. I'm flattered." 
"You couldn't refuse this marriage?" asked Sanji, processing this new information. If it were true, that made Law more a fellow prisoner than a bored and slightly sympathetic jailor. That changed everything, it meant Sanji had more allies than he thought. Still— "But you tried. That time before the betrothal ceremony. You told the King you're not marrying anyone."
"And that clearly worked," Law retorted snidely. His glowing yellow eyes were less friendly now. "So, is that what you thought of me? And all this— the aid, the kindness, the food— was this you bending backwards to keep me happy? So I don't call off the engagement and leave you to face your family's wrath for losing a valuable alliance?"
He was angry, and right. Some of it had been a little calculated, so what? Sanji had nothing here, no rights of magic to stand on, no support, and people who would die if he stepped one toe out of line. That didn't mean he couldn't want something, anything, to make the days more bearable. That maybe, though married to a man he'd never met before, he might have something which passed for love.
"Not… exactly. You already know my situation, and besides, I'm meant to be an insult," explained Sanji, grim. He hadn't expected to speak of this, and it was harder than he thought. "You're the Crown Prince, you should have married my sister, or at the very least the eldest son. Not—" the third son who has no magic to speak of. "Not me. So, you're right. I'm at your mercy. But you've been decent. So I thought. Well. We could be friends at least." 
It took a moment but Law's glare softened, pacified. 
"Don't worry about that part so much. The insult bit— we know. Doflamingo thought it was hilarious. He wants to parade you around until you're the very symbol of the Germa and your father will be associated with you."
A pause. 
"Not liking that much either, " Sanji said, voice flat. 
"He has a shit sense of humour," agreed Law. "Your being fair-haired and a smoker is partly why he agreed, I'm sure. Or he wouldn't have forced me to give you that cloak." 
Speaking of the cloak, Sanji remembered the package he'd put in his bag. He fished it out, and offered it to Law. 
"You can have this back,'' said Sanji. 
"You don't like your betrothal gift?" asked Law, but Sanji noticed he was quick to take the offered cloak in hand. 
"It seems important to you."
… No answer, but Law draped the cloak around his own shoulders. It dwarfed him much like it had dwarfed Sanji. It seemed to be made for someone closer to the King's stature. 
"I was under the impression you're not that fond of the King," Sanji commented.
For a second, it seemed like Law would not respond. Head bowed and eyes closed, with the great cloak around him, he looked small and lost in memory.  
"His brother." said Law without opening his eyes, and he drew the coat tighter around himself with his hands. "My benefactor." 
He brought the sleeve up against the white light of the garden lamp. 
"See?" said Law, and his expression was so gentle that for a moment Sanji felt like he shouldn't have seen it, like it was some secret thing he had no right to. "The deep purple, almost black. It's hard to see, but it's there." 
Sanji tore his eyes from Law's face to look at the shadows of the cloak. Sure enough, there were purple sparks, almost lost in the brighter pink. 
"I see it."
"It's not a powerful type of magic," said Law, voice wistful. "I used to disdain it myself, when I was a child. This particular one is Silent Night— it blocks out noise to give the wearer a— a peaceful sleep."
Law's voice tripped over his words and he lowered the coat, curled over it, for a second he was so overcome with emotion he couldn't speak. Sanji averted his eyes, looking out over the gardens. The pale shapes of the white and yellow flowers in the white garden lights, and the distant moon. The flat blades of the leaves and the washed out mosaic tiles. 
"This—" Law's hands tightened on the cloak in Sanji's peripheral vision. "Means a lot. More than you could know. ...Thanks." 
It was awkward, but then, Law seemed the type unaccustomed to thanking others. 
"You're welcome," Sanji said simply, and they sat together in silence late into the night. 
41 notes · View notes
cebinaruavin · 4 years
Text
Truce
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((Story co-written with @thefugitivemango / @lordbeyron. @pariker / @inathia​ / @phoenixguard​ for mention.))
~*~*~
Cebina waited in the foyer as Bey’ron finished his bath. She took her time to stroll around the room, picking out her favorite wine and helping herself to a glass. She sat herself down comfortably in one of the large lounge chairs, sitting back and crossing her legs. 
She’d always enjoyed her time spent in the manor, as short as that time was. Bey’ron had good taste in lavish decor, always ready to entertain guests. She sometimes wondered if he expected Lor’themar himself to show up at his doorstep. Even the room he’d given her to stay in had been one of the fanciest she’d ever had. A shame that didn’t last. They’d worked well together, the two of them, before her switch to the void and exile.
Water under the bridge now, as it were. The war between Alliance and Horde was over now. While Cebina’s presence still wasn’t welcomed in Quel’Thalas, travelling there was no longer as big of a risk; as long as she suppressed her Void powers and kept out of sight, of course.
She swirled the wine in her glass and sniffed the bouquet before taking a sip. Yes. She’d certainly missed this.
Her presence wasn’t lost on Bey’ron; nothing happened in his manor that he didn’t know about. Eyes everywhere… but he figured Cebina knew that as well. He cut his bath short as he sensed her presence once more in his house. While he didn’t feel in danger of anything she might do, his trust in her certainly took a dive following her last big revelation. He dried and dressed himself casually, paced calmly as he always did, before stepping into the room.
“Pour one for me too, hmm?” he instructed, nonchalantly.
Cebina smiled from her spot on the chair moving her hair over her shoulder to show off more of her chest. A natural reaction for her, even though she knew it had no effect on Bey’ron. She pointed towards the counter, where a second full glass of wine sat waiting for him.
“Way ahead of you, Sweetie,” she hummed, “How have you been, Bey Bey?”
“Mm… considering my home’s been invaded,” he narrowed his eyes at Cebina, “not terrible.”
He scooped his glass from the counter, swirling it gently as he approached the Ren’dorei intruder, uncertain at what brought her here. To gloat more, perhaps? He didn’t think she would have come here to kill him… but then the void did alter one’s mind, didn’t it? How far had her dark studies taken her…?
“Why are you here, Cebina?” he asked, bluntly, tone indicative he wasn’t interested in going through the usual foreplay. “Haven’t you caused me enough of a headache already?”
Cebina raised a brow as he skipped over the pleasantries. That wasn’t like him at all! Had the Knight Lord’s absence affected him that much? Had he actually cared about her? 
“Oh, Bey Bey, you know me. I only specialize in making people feel -good-. You won’t find any trouble coming from me. Unless... that’s what you’re looking for.”
She tipped her head back, taking a long sip of the wine from her glass.
“But, if you insist on getting straight to business, so be it. As you know, the war between Alliance and Horde has come to an end. While I’m aware my people are still shunned for our superiority, at least my presence here is no longer considered an act of war. With the armistice signed between the Alliance and Horde, I was hoping you and I could work out something similar. Past mishaps now water under the bridge, as it were, hmm?”
She took another sip, allowing Bey’ron some time to digest the information.
Bey’ron rolled his eyes. It felt good not to have to try and hide the expression, as he normally had to do in the Council chambers when some pompous nobleman spouted similar nonsense. “Superiority,” indeed. He scoffed, accenting the eye rolling to better convey how unimpressed he was by Cebina’s notion.
“You want back in, is that it? Tired of the humans already?” he smirked, throwing a light jab of his own. “If your kind are so superior, surely you wouldn’t feel a need to reestablish any manner of connections here. Armistice or not.”
He knew well why she’d returned now, of all times. The Armistice might have been a part of it, but Bey’ron had long suspected that Cebina had ties to the Twilight’s Hammer cult. A cult without any more Gods to cling to, as of late. No, he knew Cebina was only here playing nice because she’d lost a large chunk of support. A loss she hoped to make up for here.
“You’re after the arrangement I offered when I first dismissed you and your ‘superiority’, Cebina. And instead of keeping things pleasant between us, you opted instead to lash out.” he scolded her, still swirling his glass of wine. “What changed? Why are you suddenly so interested in rekindling our friendship, hmm?”
Cebina giggled, waving a hand in a dismissal of his words.
“Sweetie, please! Did you go soft while I was away? We were never friends, and you know it. Work partners, yes. Allies, yes. But don’t go pretending it was anything more than that.”
Her void filled gaze met his as she leaned forward in her chair.
“You know as well as I do that knowledge is power. And even the more superior of us need allies, especially in times of peace. Don’t you agree?”
His ear flickered; she was right. They were never really friends… so why did he phrase it in such a manner? Had loneliness tugged him off course of his goals? Had losing Ina’thia made him soft? His frown turned to a scowl at Cebina. Seeing her again had brought out many reminders of the past… including his dedication to his ambitions.
“Hmph. You’re splitting hairs. ‘Friendship’, as a generalized term of working well one with another. As in… not sabotaging one another’s projects.” Bey’ron snapped, fel flames in his eyes burning a little more intensely. “You’re reaching out for a hand you bit, Cebina. And you bit it hard. I had plans for the Phoenix Guard, and you crippled it. Killed it! Did you think I’d be so quick to forgive your childish maneuvers? Perhaps I have been too soft, letting a treacherous Old God underling like you breathe another breath of my Eversong air!”
He tossed his undrunk glass aside, letting it shatter in the corner. Portals began to open up all around the two elves, pouring chittering laughter and aggressive growls into the chamber from whatever dark dimensions lay beyond them. Demonic eyes peered in from the room, all fixated on Cebina. But nothing emerged… yet.
“Give me one good reason, Little Bird, why I should take you back.”
Cebina remained unfazed at Bey’ron’s show of force, her eyes glimmering with pride as they continued to burn into his. Her smile widened. 
“Because,” she stated simply, “You need someone to keep you on your toes.” She got up from the chair, letting her form fitting skirt brush the floor as she paced slowly.
“You’ve gone soft, Bey Bey. What I did was nothing compared to what your dear Knight Lord put you through, I’m sure. You let your guard down with her, didn’t you? Made yourself vulnerable. Now look at you, sulking in your manner and trying to pick up the pieces of what she left behind. Look at who you’ve surrounded yourself with. All soft.”
She stopped pacing a few feet in front of him, knowing well not to get too close to the Magister.
“Face it, Sweetie. You need me a lot more than I need you right now. You know it. And that is why you’re throwing this little temper tantrum, isn’t it?”
Bey’ron’s scowl turned to a smirk. He chuckled at Cebina, folding his arms behind his back as he did. The portals held position, though the snarling from within softened… yet the chittering laughter grew a bit more as if to join their master.
“Oh, I need you, is that it? That’s why you came here, then? You sensed how much I needed you? So you snuck in, seeking to restore our amicable arrangement? How kind of you, Little Bird.” he laughed on, tone clearly mocking. “You may be right; I’ve relaxed quite a bit, following your little stunt, and Ina’thia’s departure. You’ve done well in reminding me of that, tonight. But frankly… I can think of no other use I’d have for you. You think too highly of yourself if you presume you’re the only one who can, as you put it, ‘keep me on my toes’, hmm?”
A worthy attempt, he had to admit. But his wit hadn’t dulled quite that much since last they spoke. Cebina wouldn’t have come here just to rekindle a relationship unless she had something specific to gain in doing so. She’d caught him in an emotional state-- which was to say, she caught him actually feeling emotions. But that alone wasn’t her purpose in coming to him now. It seemed they ended up dancing around the heart of the matter, after all.
“Let’s try this again, shall we?” he straightened, brow askew. “Why are you here, Cebina?”
“Hmm, much better,” Cebina grinned, “There’s the Bey-Bey I know! Don’t worry, I have no intentions of returning to Silvermoon or messing with whatever you’ve got going on with your little friends.”
She sauntered back to her chair, taking a sip and getting comfortable once more, pulling the skirt of her robes up to expose her thighs as she crossed her legs.
“I need a contact to keep me up to date on the going ons of Horde politics, as it were. In return, I’ll be certain to forward any information I come across from the  Alliance side. I’ve gotten quite close with some of the higher up politicians in Stormwind. In short, you have your goals and I have mine. As long as those goals don’t go against each other, there’s no reason we can’t go back to being respectful associates.”
“Mm, that depends entirely on what your goals actually are, doesn’t it?”
The Magister returned to the counter, and retrieved another glass since his last one broke. He didn’t bother glancing over to where he’d thrown it; it was already cleaned up anyway, the work of some Imp while no one was looking. He filled his new glass with wine, before turning back to his guest.
“It also depends on what manner of information you can provide. I’ve already arranged a few eyes and ears among your Alliance’s political players, and they’ve done well in feeding me useful little tidbits.” he explained as he, too, finally took a seat in a chair adjacent to Cebina’s. “I suppose you think you could do better, though? Provide me with more exclusive information?”
He grinned at the Ren’dorei.
“Let’s hear a sampling, hmm?”
“Oh, darling… you have NO idea.”
Cebina moved her hand, opening it palm up as a small void tear opened up just above it, depositing a scroll into her hand. She’d worked with Bey’ron long enough to know he wouldn’t take her at her word. He was MUCH smarter than that; one of the things she rather liked about him. Of course he would demand proof that she could procure information more valuable than his own men could gather. 
She held the parchment out for him to levitate over.
“I’ll let you read for yourself. Human men are simple creatures, and SO predictable, especially when it comes down to interacting with exotic women,” she grinned, tilting her head up proudly, not a hint of shame of how she used her body, “I think you’ll enjoy these little tidbits, especially certain secret outings the King has been making.”
The Magister couldn’t hide the intrigue on his face, as he read the scroll over. It was a mixed bag, certainly, with some bits of information much more useful and actionable than others. For now, anyway; Bey’ron learned long ago that sometimes the most innocuous details can bridge gaps in some of the darkest secrets. These outings of the Alliance’s Boy-King that Cebina alluded to, for example… they meant nothing for the moment. Just a piece of a puzzle Bey’ron could use later, when he found where it fit.
But he wasn’t going to tell her that.
“... Hmph. I suppose these have some merit.” he commented; such words meager approval from some, but high praise when coming from his lips. “If I did, perhaps, have use for information you’re willing to bring, what exactly would you wish in return? Bearing in mind, I am not as prone to betraying my kingdom as--”
He paused, gaze tracing over Cebina in silent judgment. A less-than subtle jab. He allowed the parchment to roll up once more, curling by virtue of having been rolled up before. He held it upright as a small portal opened above it-- and a tiny pair of imp hands reached down to snatch it away absconding with the paper to Sun-only-knows where.
“... Others.” he concluded his thought, smirking.
“Of course, of course,” she waved a hand, not seeming the least bit insulted by what Bey’ron insinuated.
Cebina had always joined causes out of convenience. She’d joined a number of houses and organizations during their rise, only to move on to another as she sensed they were about to fall. Her entire life had been about taking what she needed to further her own goals. Now wasn’t any different. She knew it. Bey’ron knew it. There was no point in pretending she ever cared for Quel’Thalas.
“Ever the loyalist, I remember. I would never ask you to betray your kingdom, Bey-Bey. I have no interest in playing with Sin’dorei affairs. However, a man of your elite stature certainly has spies dispatched throughout the other factions of the Horde, hmm? All I’m asking in return is that you share that intelligence with me.”
Bey’ron contemplated for a moment, eyeing Cebina over scrutinously. He was torn; at what point did benefiting the Void Elf become endangering the High Kingdom? It was easy to work with her before, when their goals coincided often. But he couldn’t imagine an instance where they would, now. The value of even small details cut both ways. What could he tell her that wouldn’t potentially come back detrimentally to Quel’Thalas? The secrets she was willing to share were, indeed, valuable to him. But at such a cost…?
No, the payoff was far greater than just a few meaningless details shared between the two. A truce was at stake-- a partnership with Cebina made her an ally once more, rather than the spiteful enemy she’d proven to be otherwise. It was a dangerous gambit, indeed. But he knew it was more beneficial to bring her to heel with a few tasty morsels of information than to let her run wild and lash out. 
“Mm. So be it.” he nodded, with a smirk. “We’ve worked well together in the past. If you’re ready to do so again, it would be in poor form for me to deny you the pleasure.”
He raised his glass to Cebina; a toast to seal the deal, and rekindle their partnership. It felt like the right move; after all, you keep your friends close.
And your enemies closer.
~*~*~
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sector-i-closed · 5 years
Text
Second Chance
Requested on another platform.
Warning: A little Angsty
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You sighed heavily in discontent as you furiously scribbled and sketched out your newest drawing, being determined not to have this sketch look like all the others that you had been drawing.
You would always start out with something or someone specific in mind to draw but, by the time you finished drawing your work would look like your husband, Hongjoong.
It angered you greatly to be unable to draw whatever you wanted, and you fumed internally, thinking that of all the people in the world for your drawing to portray, it had to be the man you despised so much.
You took a moment to steep yourself in bitter reflection of your time in middle school, when Hongjoong made constant, unrelenting fun of you being the preppy nerd in school.
The report cards were always satisfying when you received them but the distraction of the boy belittling you constantly made you wonder if perhaps you was too smart, no one else excelled in class like you did and everyone liked you including the teachers, everyone that is except Hongjoong, whom you had an intense crush on which further complicated your feelings.
You groaned loudly, pausing the pencil in your hand long enough to look about the living room, making certain that you was alone before continuing to sketch out the eyes and nose of the face that you was drawing.
Another memory came to your mind, causing you to cringe at the recollection.
"Y/N, our house is to be foreclosed on because the bank will not give us anymore time to pay on the mortgage." Your father had told you over dinner while your mother pretended to eat her meal.
"But the banker said that he would forgive the debt should we allow you to marry his son, and knowing the condition that your mother is in I agreed to his deal." Your father continued, his voice rang without emotion and you wondered if he even cared.
You felt sick, knowing exactly who the bankers son was, it was the boy you had feelings for who made you feel like nothing.
That night you sobbed for a long time, feeling betrayed by your father while simultaneously knowing that he was only trying to do what was best for your mother, who was in deteriorating health and you couldn't handle the thought of her being homeless, the thought devastated you.
The wedding ceremony was not the best day of your life in your opinion and you'd much rather had been marrying some random cartoon character as to marrying the man you was arranged to marry.
Your focus returned to the present, your eyes narrowing angrily at seeing Hongjoong's face staring back at you from the paper that you'd been scratching at for quite some time.
Hongjoong noticed you sitting at your work table, drawing another sketch again as you usually did from time to time.
Watching you while you worked at what you enjoyed doing was something that he loved, even when you never knew that he would be watching you from behind.
You shifted your weight in your chair, mumbling curses about the image that you created on paper.
A cocky smirk made it's way to Hongjoong's lips upon seeing another drawing of himself, created by your talent.
He began to think back at the times in school when he knew that he had made you feel terrible to the point of causing tears to prickle your eyes in his presence.
Regret nor heartbreak was a strong enough word to describe what he felt about how he treated you.
Hongjoong had envied your intelligence, desiring to be as smart as you or perhaps he was really wanting you for his own he concluded later on.
At the time he wanted to make his mark and make a strong impression on the people that surrounded him and he did so by picking on you.
After some time had gone by he finally realized what he was doing was a mistake, falling in love with you after watching how kind you were to the students that came to you with their problems or just wanted someone to talk to that could be depended upon.
He approached you himself several times to try to apologize to you for his previous behavior but you shunned him, leaving him standing alone as you walked away with your head held high.
A few years later he recalled his father; the longtime owner of the most successful bank in town, commenting about your family's home was about to be foreclosed on.
It was then that Hongjoong found his chance to make you his own, working hard to convince his father to go along with his plan to arrange a marriage with you.
Though there was no guarantee that his plan would work and he was in total disbelief himself to find out that your father had agreed so easily to the deal.
The wedding between you and him could have been better, having dealt with your icyness first hand when both of you took your vows and from that moment on he began his mission to break through the solid exterior of your heart.
Hongjoong complimented you every time you made an achievement, every time that he saw you he made it known that you was beautiful.
He would make sure that you was well taken care of and you tried your hardest to not show that you was completely swept off of your feet, but Hongjoong could tell by the look in your eyes what you was feeling.
"It's beautiful." He remarked over your shoulder, enjoying your reaction when you jumped, being completely startled by his presence.
Frantically you wadded up the sketch you had been working on, quickly scrambling to your feet to avoid interacting with him.
Somehow you felt extra agitated and you couldn't keep yourself in check.
"Leave me alone!" You hissed vehemently, turning to flee him.
"No, I won't leave you alone!" Hongjoong replied in a calm tone of his own, grabbing your wrist and sitting you back down in your seat.
"Not until you give me a chance to help you realize what you feel." His gaze was intense and almost scary, staring so deeply into your eyes in such a way that made you feel dizzy with a feeling that you couldn't describe.
His touch had incited a strong electrical charge to rush through your entire body, leaving you completely breathless and overwhelmed.
"T-there's nothing to realize... I still remember the way you treated me all those years ago." You whispered hoarsely, your arm going lax in Hongjoong's grip. You refused to look him in the face, knowing that you would only fall for him even more.
"Y/N, I know that I deserve your hate but I want you to know that I'm truly sorry for all the pain that I caused you and-"
"Why are you apologizing now? Isn't it a little late for that?" You asked sourly.
"You kept shutting me out."
You winced at his answer.
Finally you dared to look at him.
"Why did you treat me like you did?" You furrowed your eyebrows, watching Hongjoong as he gave you an answer.
"I was jealous of you and wanted to stand out from the other kids... I'm not proud of what I've done but I have learned from that mistake." Emotion flickered in his eyes, staring at you with such deep sincerity that you could almost feel the walls around your heart crumble.
"I promise to never hurt you again and to cherish you forever." Hongjoong still had a firm yet gentle hold on your arm, looking expectantly into your eyes.
"Things don't get fixed overnight but okay, I forgive you.... and I'll hold you to your word." Your expression softened as you felt your stomach twist, sensing that you was finally going to let go of the past unpleasant experiences you had had with Hongjoong and create a new future with him.
"You'll never regret your decision." He smirked, tracing your lips with his fingertips and sending yet another sudden rush of electricity through your veins.
Hongjoong was thankful for you forgiving him and he hoped for a happily ever after for both of you.
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kookscrescent · 5 years
Text
Aconite (pt.1)┊knj
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❖ Pairing: Namjoon x f reader ❖ A bad summary: “Oh great! You will have to spend time with mister sour face over there during your down time as well.” ❖ Genre: angst, fluff, marriage!au ❖ Warnings: none in this chapter  ❖ Word count: 2.656 ❖ Parts: 2/??
⇥ Masterlist ⇥ Aconite Masterlist  NB! This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡
⇦ PREVIOUS // NEXT ⇨
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The silence in the room is almost unbearable. Roughly, thirty minutes have passed since you arrived, and during those Namjoon has managed not speak a single word to you, only greeting you with a short and curt bow when you got here, and you don’t even think he has looked at you for longer than a few seconds.
Seriously, what is up that man’s ass? None of this is your doing! You are both here, meaning that you have both agreed to this arrangement and the terms of the contract, so the least he could do is be somewhat polite and not act like a total asshole. You are minutes away from being fake engaged for god’s sake!  
You have been working your way through the stack of legal documents – or contracts, if you will – in front of you, the pen in your hand scribbling your signature on the underlined parts. You have already read every page of it twice before coming here, and you even sent it over to your lawyer for him to proofread everything beforehand.  
Moving the pen across the white paper for the last time, you close the contract neatly and place the pen on top. 
“All done.” You announce with a sigh of relief, your hand aching slightly from holding it so long.
Looking next to you, Namjoon has already finished and is now occupying himself with his phone, but he looks up briefly when you speak. You look away, you don’t want to waste your energy trying to be nice to him at the moment. There are still a lot of details that needs to be gone over, so if he wants to sulk then by all means he can go ahead, but you are not going to entertain his mood.
Haeun comes over, taking both you and Namjoon’s fully signed contracts before handing them over to Bang Si-Hyuk. He takes them gladly, not looking at them he passes them to one of the HR managers behind him.
“Okay,” Chinhae, the leading director of this whole affair, claps his hands to get everyone’s attention. Even Namjoon puts down his phone for once to pay attention. “You have now both read, understood and signed the contract, correct?” He asks you both.
“Yes,” you answer in unison.
“Perfect! But I would like to just go over the basics one more time so that everyone is clear and on the same page of what is going to happen in the months leading forward.”
The majority of the questions you had leading into to this have already been answered by reading the contract, but you like that everyone is very detailed orientated just like yourself. Not a corner is left untouched in this.  
“As of, well right now actually, you, ____ and you, Namjoon, are engaged,” a round of applause goes around the room and you look awkwardly at Namjoon, deciding to shoot him a polite smile, but he still has the same sour mine on as the last time you looked at him. You roll your eyes and focus back on Chinhae. So much for wanting to be civil. “so, let us start with just the basics. You are both clear on why this is happening, so we won’t touch too much on that anymore. As stated in the contract, the duration of the first part of the engagement is six months. During these months we will schedule a few quick meetings when it is possible. These meetings will be spent going over the progress.”
He turns the page of the notebook in front of him, carefully taking his time before he starts talking again. “During the six months we will either call for meetings if we feel like it is needed, but you can also call for a meeting if there is anything you feel like we should go over.” He makes a gesture towards Haeun and Namjoon’s manager Sejin. “Haeun and Sejin have been appointed as your direct managers for this because of your familiarity with them. So any minor problems or issues gets directed towards them like it would in any normal situation. Are you both following so far?”
“Yes,” You say.
And for the first time, Namjoon opens his mouth to say more than a three letter word, his tone sounding almost pleasant. “Yes, but I’m just more curious as to know what is going to happen when the meeting finishes.”
“Of course,” Chinhae says flipping another page. “As you already know from reading the contract, your living situation will change slightly from this day forward. You are both living separately right now, and of course Namjoon you are living with the rest of your members, they have of course already been informed of all this,” he pauses and Namjoon nods in confirmation. “We have already acquired an apartment for you both to stay at, and because you are both busy people, it has been decided that all the days where you are both in Seoul, you will stay together at the apartment. That way you have a chance to get to know each other a little better outside of the official outings and meetings.”
Oh great! You will have to spend time with mister sour face over there during your down time as well. “Are we going to have access to each other’s schedule then?” You ask because that was not mentioned in the contract.
Chinhae looks to Bang Si-hyuk and he nods. “We can make that happen.”
“Okay, because I think that will make it somewhat easier to navigate then.”
“Sure. Namjoon do you have any more questions?”
“One,” He says sitting up straighter in the chair. “I know that the contract stated that we will be in the public eye together, but it didn’t really go into detail. So, what exactly is expected of us regarding to that?”
You have to admit that you are a little amazed right now. In the last few minutes, Namjoon has spoken more than he has in the two weeks you have been acquaintances. And it feels like he is starting to warm up a little bit.
“Later today, at exactly four o’clock, we will release the press statement of your engagement,” someone behind him hands him two files and he hands them over to you and Namjoon. You have each gotten two files. On one its reads ‘Official Press Statement’ and on the other one does not have a title. “Here is a copy of the official statement that will be released. We have fabricated a timeframe of how long you would have been dating secretly had this all been real.”
Huh?
You flip open the statement file. “Kim Namjoon of BTS and ____ _______ are officially engaged. The couple, both being signed under Big Hit Entertainment, have been fond of each other since early February of 2019. They both agreed upon keeping their romance under wraps for the sake of their own privacy and getting to know each other on a deeper level, but they have now decided to take their relationship a step further and is set to marry late next year.”
Wow! This all makes it seems so legit and real, when in reality none of this is real or genuine. It is all a PR stunt, but had you been on the other side of this, reading this as a fan of either of you, you would have thought it was real. But that is also the whole point you guess.
“So we would have been dating for about 10 months.” You confirm.
“Yes,” Chinhae replies. “The other file is just a loose guide of what we need from you guys in the public eye.”
You flip to the other file, seeing Namjoon doing the same thing out of the corner of your eye. Quickly, you scan the first few lines. Public appearances, speaking fondly about the relationship/each other, hand holding, dates, kissing, social media posts.
You gulp as you read the word kissing. You really do not want to put your lips on someone so spiteful as Namjoon, but you already signed the contract and you guess a small chaste peck won’t do you any harm.
Or at least not a lot of harm.
Flipping a page again, a timetable comes into view. At the top is tomorrows date and next to it is a scheduled outing. Yours and Namjoon’s first appearance as an engaged couple in the public eye.
“I have a recording session at the studio tomorrow.” Namjoon comments upon seeing the timetable.
“They know,” you are surprised to hear Sejin speaking for the first time. His voice is much deeper than you would have thought, and he speaks in a very calm and collect way. “Your session is early in the morning at 10 am and your date isn’t scheduled until 4 or 5 pm.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” you cut in. “4 or 5 pm?”
“Yes, for now the time is put loosely depending on when Namjoon finishes tomorrow. Could be earlier than 4 but no later than 5.” Sejin explains. “Buy you will be meeting here before the date, and Namjoon, because of his scheduled session, will already be here, so there shouldn’t be too many delays.”
You really want to make a comment about how you don’t want to live your daily life around his schedule and how he should just show up on time, but you know how recording sessions work, how stressful they can be at times and how much work and how many hours that gets put into it. Also, you decide to be the bigger person in this case, smiling and nodding an understanding okay.
From the side, Haeun taps Chinhae and he leans towards her. She whispers something in his ear that no one else is able to hear, but you can see the smile she spots clear as day.  
“Oh right!” Chinhae exclaims immediately after. “I almost forgot!” He scoots away from the table, grabbing his briefcase from the floor and begins digging in it. He pulls out a small square box in black velvet and glides it across the table till it stops in front of you.
“Your engagement ring!” He says as if you need any clarification as to what is inside the small box.
Pulling it towards you, you silently open the lid.
Holy shit! You nearly curse out loud seeing the ring inside. You can feel Namjoon’s gaze on you, his eyes watching your reaction closely.
Inside the box sits the most beautiful silver ring you have probably ever seen in your entire life. No exaggeration! What immediately catches your attention is the big cushion cut diamond in the middle of the ring, being surrounded by a halo of smaller round cut diamonds, framing the bigger it in the most beautiful and vintage looking way. Cascading around the entire band of the ring is even more diamonds and when the light catches it in just the right way, it sparkles in the most breathtaking way.
You are overwhelmed with the amount of diamonds that are on this ring and you are almost afraid to take it out of the box and put it on. What if one of the diamonds falls out or gets lost? Now, you are not sure of the price of this thing or the general cost of an engagement ring, but you would bet your left arm on it not being on the cheap side of the scale.
Holy shit! Whoever picked out this ring is a winner at life!
“It’s… It’s beautiful! Wow…” You are speechless.
You didn’t grow up with a lot of money and having nice things – having expensive things – like this wasn’t ever something you thought of or wanted. And granted, the life you have been lucky enough to be blessed with now, could easily provide you with such things, it has just never been of that much importance. But wow!
“Put it on!” Haeun eagerly urges you from the other side of the table. Her eyes are twinkling like Christmas lights, focusing solely on the ring.
“I’m almost afraid to put it on. I’m afraid to break it.” You joke and gently pry it out of its place.
“It can be replaced if so.” Bang Si-hyuk says making you stop and look at him. He only nods towards your hand with a genuine smile urging you to continue.
Sliding the ring down your finger, you admire your hand. You never thought you would be wearing an engagement ring at the mere age of 23, but life works in strange and mysterious ways. The ring fits like a glove, hugging your finger perfectly almost like it was custom made just for you.  
It is perfect and your right hand now pales in comparison.
“It’s beautiful,” you repeat your previous words. You don’t feel like there are any words good enough to really describe just how beautiful it is.
Feeling Namjoon move beside you, you turn your eyes to him. To his hands to be specific. Both of them are bare.
You frown. “Doesn’t Namjoon get a ring?” Of course, you know that guys typically don’t wear a ring when they get engaged, but looking at the ring you have gotten, you suddenly feel bad and you don’t want him to feel left out… even if he is being an ass. “I mean, I get to wear this,” you flash the ring. “and… I mean, I just don’t think it would be fair…” Your words fade as you find it hard to explain what you mean.
“It’s okay,” Namjoon assures you, his gaze shifting from the ring to your eyes. “This is how it works in ‘normal’ situations,” he air quotes. “you should get to wear the beautiful ring and feel special... Even if it is fake behind the scenes.”
For the first time, you hear him speak genuinely and it warms at your heart. Why could he not have been like this from the start? That would have made everything so much easier, and it sure as hell would have changed your first impression and opinion on him.
If only he continues to be like this everything will be fine and run smoothly. You just hope you haven’t spoken too soon.
“Alright perfect! Now that this is all in place, I think we can successfully wrap up the meeting, unless you have any last remarks sir?” Chinhae directs his last question towards Bang Si-Hyuk.
“I have no further remarks at the moment.” He says and stands from his chair.
Everyone else does the same, telling him goodbye as he leaves the room with the managers, leaving only you, Namjoon, Haeun, Sejin and Chinhae in the room.
You begin packing your stuff in your purse. Your copy of the contract, the statement and the ‘loose schedule’, and the black velvet box, but you halt with it in your hand, a thought suddenly occurs to you.
“Oh, should I wear this now?” You frown, referring to your ring.
“Uh…” Haeun hums, waiting for Chinhae to give you an answer.
“I mean, what if someone photographs me today wearing it?”
Chinhae checks his watch quickly. “No it’s okay, you can keep it on. It’s almost 4 o’clock anyways, so there should be no issues even if you are photographed wearing it.”
Silently, you nod, putting the velvet box in your purse carefully even though it is empty.
“I will see the both of you tomorrow between 4 and 5.” He chirps and leaves the room.
Now, only four people are left, but it seems that Namjoon is also in a hurry to leave, because as soon as Chinhae has disappeared though the door, he also makes a hasty retreat though it, Sejin right behind him.
So much for him starting to be nice and change his attitude…
“Happy engagement to me!” You jokingly scowl.
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NEXT CHAPTER ⇨
This took me longer to get up than i initially wanted! But it’s here now, so i hope you enjoy! 
If you do, please remember to like and reblog!
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Coffee and Stitches.
A/N; My ask box is open. (Though some are not going through:/)
Summary; After a long day on the ward, the last thing Y/N want’s to deal with is a drunk. 
Pairing; Nurse!Reader x Cop!Steve 
Words; 2.1k
Part Two
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"Morning everyone. Can I have a quick word?"
Y/N looked up from where she was typing away at the computer in front of her, her eyes zeroing in on Daniels. She eyed him for a moment, wondering what it was he wanted to talk about before she turned to look at Nat with a raised brow. The woman in question merely shrugged as she leaned back in her swivel chair, giving their college her full attention. 
A small gathering of people, each wearing a specific shade of scrubs that depended on their job title, had found their way to the desk that was situated towards the front of the ward.    
"I'v been informed that we are short staffed, so it's gonna be extremely busy." Daniels spoke up once more, looking more relaxed than he probably was feeling. "Philip is currently trying to arrange some agency staff to come in and help out. I'm not to worried about you guys, but I'm going to need nothing less than your very best. Nurses, Romanoff and Y/L/N are your superiors, you have a problem, take it to them. Right... I'll leave it to the pair of you." He finally said, shooting Nat and Y/N a look. 
The small group watched as Daniels picked up his paperwork from the desk and spun on left through the automatic doors. Y/N felt eyes on the side of her face as she turned to look at Nat who raised a brow with a small smirk. "Let's get this show on the road." 
Y/N rolled her eyes as she laughed lightly. "Alright guys, you know what your dong. Any problems, we'll be around the floor somewhere." She addressed the other nurses with a smile. "Accident and emergency will be sending over patients who aren't about to die if they don't get attention immediately, so be prepared for anything to come walking through those doors." 
With that said, the group dispersed accordingly. Y/N took the moment to slouch in her chair, not knowing when she would be allowed such a luxury as sitting down again during her shift. 
"How's Wanda doing?" Nat asked, blowing on her coffee cup and taking a small sip. 
Y/N smiled at the mention of her sister, refreshing the page on the computer. "She's fine. Vision is taking her out on a date to the zoo today. " 
Nat chuckled as she took another sip of coffee. "All about the Giraffe's, right?" 
Y/N could do nothing but nod as the two of them shared a laugh. Before either of them could speak up once more, the light box against the wall began to flash red. Nat was quick to hop up, pushing her chair away from the desk and making her way towards the double doors to meet the Accident and Emergency team with the patient while Y/N refreshed the page one more and began to take down all the relevant details. 
The rest of the sixteen hour shift seemed to pass by in a blur. Although Daniels had informed them that the hospital was short staffed, it would have been impossible to know on their floor if he had not told them. As the hours disappeared, so did the staff under Y/N's wing. As 2 am drew near, the only people left on the floor was Y/N, Peter who was a junior nurse and the last of the patients who was being treated by Nat. 
"Make sure to keep changing the bandages, Mrs Mathews." Nat's voice filled the air as Y/N was showing Peter a diagram of what was acceptable in the case of a severe head injury. "I'll send your notes across to your doctor who'll make you an appointment in the coming week. Take care." 
The old woman bid her goodbye as her husband helped her out the doors. Nat dropped into the chair at the desk as she blew out a breath and closed her eyes for a moment. Peter looked up at the red head or a moment, pity on his face as though he understood what she was going through. 
Noticing that he wasn't paying attention, Y/N looked up with a raised brow and followed his gaze. She chewed on her inner cheek for a moment before smiling softly. "Nat?" The red head made a noise of question. "Why don't you get off. It's basically two anyway." 
"You sure?" Nat mumbled, opening her eyes slightly. 
"Pretty sure." Y/N replied. "Get yourself home and in bed. I'm only here for another hour until Robert's take's over anyway. Beside's, it's gone quiet anyway." 
Nat nodded as she stood up and began to gather her things together before she bid the pair farewell and left the floor. Y/N continued to help Peter out on the things he wasn't entirely confident on as the clock slowly ticked away. She had him writing a report on the effects of taking blood when the box on the wall began to flash red at half two. 
She looked up, eyeing the red light for a moment before she turned to look at Peter who raised a brow slightly. "Carry on with that report." She mumbled, pushing her chair out and standing up. She made her way around the desk, pumping a small amount of hand sanitizer on her hands as she moved towards the double doors. 
Almost as soon as the doors opened, she frowned deeply and blew a frustrated breath out of her mouth. She stood in the doorway, hands on her hips as she watched the two offers all but drag someone along between them. She tilted her head, deeming the slumped man drunk before she turned to look at the officers with raised brows. 
She took in the dark haired one first, ignoring the way his uniform seemed to flex with his arms as he held the mad up. His eyes were of a blue-grey colour, the bottom half of his face covered in what was the makings of a beard. Y/N shook her head before she looked over at the taller one of the pair. His blonde hair didn't look as though a piece of it had fallen from where it was meant to be. His eyes were startling as she made eye contact, trying to force the obvious blush from her face as he smiled at her slightly, coming to a stop in front of her. 
"Hey, you're Nurse Y/L/N right?" The blonde asked, raisied a brow at her as she nodded slowly. "Accident and Emergency sent us round. This ones-" He nodded down at the man who was mumbling something. "-causing trouble round there." 
"So, Nick thought he'd palm him off on me, right?" Y/N grumbled, rolling her eyes as she sighed and stepped to the side, allowing the officers to bring the man onto the ward. "I'll just get his notes, take him to that bed there-" She pointed out the first row of beds that had been cleaned up. "-I'll be back... Don't let him touch anything." She added after a seconds thought as the blonde laughed slightly while the brunette grinned at the blonde who seemed to look away. 
Y/N sighed as she made her way back to the desk to see Peter giving her a look of pity. "I've printed it off for you." He said, holding out a clipboard with the printed page on it. Y/N smiled in thanks, reading through it and picking out what she needed to know. "Need me to get a trolley ready?" 
"That'd be great... Thanks Peter." She told him, grabbing a pen from the desk and moving back to the officers and new patient. "Alright. So, I've got a Josh Chard." Looking up, she stared blankly at the mad on the bed who looked as though he'd drank a whole bar. "Can you confirm your date of birth for me, Josh?" She asked, eyeing him for a moment before muttering, "Didn't think so." 
"Got a call about an hour ago." The blonde spoke up from the chair. "Picked this one up outside a bar down town not long after. He's got a cut on his head that wouldn't stop bleeding so we brought him straight here." 
"He's not complained of any pain... Complained about almost everything else though." The brunette said from where he stood near by with him arms crossed against his chest. 
"Y/N." Peter's voice filled the air as he pushed a trolled next to her. "If you need help..." 
"Thanks Peter." Y/N smiled, watching as he nodded and made his was back to the desk. 
Y/N began to arrange the contents on top of the trolley, opening packets and pulling on a pair of latex gloves as she slid the trolley around the side of the bed, reaching up to pull down the wall mounted light. "Is he even awake?" She found herself asking Blondie who leaned forward and nudged Josh. 
"Man, don't touch me." Josh spat, trying to lean out of reach of the officer. Y/N was quick to grip his shoulder and stop him leaning off the bed any more as she pushed him to lean back against the bed. "Well, damn." He muttered, looking up at Y/N who raised a brow at him. "You are just the prettiest thing I've ever seen. But that's a lie... I haven't seen you without them clothes on y-" 
"Hey," Blondie harshly muttered, leaning across the bed as he gripped Josh a little more roughly than necessary, his mouth close the his ear. "We are not doing that. Do you hear me?" Josh nodded slowly, his face looking considerably pale. Blondie muttered something that Y/N couldn't hear. 
Josh pondered his words for a moment before he let out and breath and muttered something under his breath. "Excuse me?" Y/N asked, leaning in as she tried to pick up what he was saying. 
"Sorry." Y/N stood back up as she looked over at the blonde who was busy glaring at the side of Josh's head. 
"Er, it's alright... I'm going to clean your wound and stitch it up now." She told him, getting to work. 
Most likely due to just how many stitches she had given people in her line of work, Y/N managed to clean, stitch and dress Josh's wound in record time. She pulled her gloves from her hands and disposed of them in the bin near by while she watched the brunette help Josh from the bed and over to the bathroom he declared he desperately needed while she jotted down what she had done on the clipboard. 
"Is he off to jail then, Officer..."
"Steve." Blondie told her a little to quickly. "Steve is fine." 
"Steve." Y/N smiled slightly. 
"That's the plan. "Steve told her. "I'm sorry for what he said earlier." 
"Oh, don't worry about it." Y/N laughed, watching as a small smile came to his own face. "I've heard much, much worse than that. Beside's, it wasn't your fault anyway." 
Steve nodded, looking as though he wanted to say something as he looked over towards the bathroom. Y/N frowned and followed his line of sight, raising a brow when she noticed his partner flaying his arms about as though he was trying to shout at him silently. The brunette was quick to cross his arms and look away when he noticed her gaze. 
"Your partners... Strange." 
"Nah, he's Bucky. Strange works down town." Steve told her, squeezing his eyes shut as though he wished he had not said that. "Look, Y/N... I get off work at four and... Well, I was wonderin- If you're not busy... Do you wan't to get breakfast? It's cool if you don't. I bet you've been working all da- Oh, you have haven't you?"
"I have." Y/N told him, her face full of humour. "But I also haven't eaten in hours so sure. I'd like to get breakfast with you. I have the next two days off so I can sleep after." 
Steve looked down at her sharply as though he wasn't expecting her to say yes. "Right... Yes. I'll come back here and pick you up?" 
"I'll be here." 
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Devil’s Trust pt2
Warnings: Strong language, Moblord styling warlords.
Masterlist
---
Chapter 2
Rumour mills were in full production. The gossip circles were tapping out messages on the underground jungle drums throughout the city and word was out … The Ghost was here!
“Beware the shadows and its moving shade. Be mindful of your actions and the repercussions made. Judgement comes to those who don’t. Beware the Ghost.”
Every family with ties to the underground knew the stories. They were told and passed on generation to generation. Tales the grown-ups told the children the same way the ordinary everyday people would recite a fairy tale. Except these were different.
Fairy tales were edited narratives, sugar-coated and glossing over the gory details to give the next generation growing up in the world a little moral guidance. When it came to the stories about the Ghost there was nothing sweet about them. Even in the dark underbelly of the world, there were lines you didn’t cross, rules you obeyed and when that was ignored it was the Ghost that took you.  
It was because nothing about it was hidden and all of it was true that is struck fear into the hearts of all those living in the underworld. The Ghost was the avenging angel in their world. The Judge, jury and executioner at your final supper. They were responsible for making the unrepentant pay the price owed. Every detail behind the stories of the Ghost could be easily found in the lines of text written by the coroner; if they found the body at all. The question hanging in the air… who was the Ghost targeting now?
---
Two minutes, it was all he could claw back from the time given to him by Sasuke. He had to get out of the main flow of traffic. The road opened up after a few sharp turns, the wheels of his car were smoking as he pulled hard on the handbrake and went down some roads that were so narrow, they could take the wing mirrors off the car had he not been more aware of the space provided.
His engine as it raced through the old cobblestone routes of the old city filled the air with a monstrous roar even as the vibrations threatened to shake the chassis from the rest of the car. The other vehicles had not given up the pursuit but were now forced to follow him in single file. He wanted to get them out of town but that would be asking for too much. He followed the labyrinthine roads following a map in his own head and decided drawing them out to the dockyard was the best option. You’re in my playground. Don’t presume you can back me into a corner when I know all the short cuts.
The smile on his face grew deeper as his focus on the road ahead cleared. He was not so much the vision of a man being pushed in a murderous pursuit through the twisting veins of the city but that of one that was simply out for a drive on a long weekend. Yes, this was his city. The dark side streets and alleys were his bread and butter, all the old roads the jam that just served to make his nightlife all the sweeter for his hunt.
As the front of his car exited the alleyway like a bullet from a shotgun. The cobbles under his wheels gave way to slick dirt. The moisture from the water in the air here meant the ground was never what you could call dry. The natural clay content of it meant it was like skating on an icy pond. The other cars exited behind him and began to separate up to cover as many routes behind him as they could.
It was laughably predictable and he couldn’t avoid the dry chuckle that left him as he glanced in his rear-view mirror and once more pulled on his hand brake causing his car to spin on the ground under it so he could come face to face with his pursuers. The salt clogged mud slick sprayed in arcs by his rear bumper before falling still on the ground once more. He could almost feel the hesitation from them as he changed the game from cat and mouse into one of chicken.
Mitsuhide put his hand up to the handle on the roof clicking a hidden button that slid back a small compartment there revealing a primed and loaded gun. Now then, who’s first?
---
Stepping foot back into HQ Nobunaga was almost immediately accosted by a highly strung Hideyoshi. The man had been sitting in a chair by reception and practically pounced the second he saw his Boss’s highly polished shoes touch the tiles.
“You’re back!” The man blurted out as if in shock. Warm caramel brown eyes searched Nobu from top to toe as if he were expecting some sort of mortal wound to be present.
“Naturally.” Nobu replied rather lazily as he fixed his right-hand man with a nondescript look. He was a little amused but mostly thankful that it was past office hours and there were no clients that would be in need of explanations as to why the Vice President was acting like someone had put itching powders in his boxers.
“You didn’t answer your phone. I was worried.” Hideyoshi spoke with panic still clear in his voice and slightly shaking. You really would make someone a fine wife one day Yoshi. Still, for all your fussing I can’t deny you have been a dependable ally during some of the darker times.
“When are you never worried?” Nobu replied in exasperation failing to suppress the sigh that was building inside him.
“Why didn’t you answer?” Hideyoshi appeared hurt by being ignored and it was obvious it had been yet another thing he deemed life-threatening or at the very least major enough that could yet again bring down the foundations of their company that were already standing on rocky terrain. 
He didn’t know if it was the lingering effects of his time at the Birdcage or if he had simply found the eye of the emotional storm that had been raging inside him. He was reluctant to dwell too long on such a thing but he couldn’t keep his newfound amusement from escaping him.
Nobu smirked slightly and replied. “I left for a few hours. I fail to see what disasters could have befallen during that time that could not be easily handled by the men I left in my place. A fact that was confirmed when I turned my phone back on and was bombarded with several messages one of which was our new resident tech expert informing me that the matter was in hand.”
Hideyoshi stood where he was mouth agape at the succinct rundown of events. A surge of satisfaction washed over Nobu as he succeeded in rendering the other man speechless. The doors to the underground car park opened revealing a spectacled arrival carrying a bag printed with a grocery store logo.
“You fixed that?” Having found his voice again Hideyoshi stated more in shock than as a question as he turned his attention on the new arrival. Sasuke quickly looked between the two men noting that they were both showing polar opposite levels of the emotional spectrum and made the connection to the only incident of interest for the day.
“Yes. It did take a little bit of creative hacking to do it but I was able to shut down the news drone and have the incident written off as a scene being filmed for a new movie. Hardly something out with my skill set.” Sasuke pushed up his glasses causing them to glint in a way that made him look even more like a casual superhero than normal.
“You think people will buy that?” Hideyoshi stammered at the unbelievable ease with which Sasuke replied. Nobunaga stood silently watching the two converse. He plunged his hand deep into his trouser pocket his fingertips finding the edge of his key that would allow him to escape to his rooms.
“They already have.” Sasuke flashed his smartphone with a still image of the street view below the drone and the new headline “High-Speed preview of new action movie – was the Director’s choice of using the real world refreshing or irresponsible?” Nobunaga’s lips tugged into a large satisfied smile and chuckled with the amusement of the audacious plan as well as the apparent effect, it had on Hideyoshi.
“You don’t exactly look shocked by any of this.” Hideyoshi stated trying to figure out why he seemed so lax about the events. Ever since the companies had merged, he had to confess he had a hard time getting a read on this young man. His expressionless face gave nothing away and it was unsettling to not even be able to detect a real shift in tone as he spoke. Hideyoshi was a people person or as Mitsuhide had pointed out on more than one occasion a people pleaser. To be unable to get even subliminal guidance from someone as to how to assist them or what they are even thinking unnerved him.
“Kenshin is my Boss. Being asked to shut down a few cameras and changing a few things on the city grid to redirect attention is nothing.” Sasuke replied in a calm manner with a little shrug that only seemed to frustrate Hideyoshi even more.
---
The sound of tape being pulled from a roll and placed over cardboard almost seemed to echo in the almost empty rooms as the last of their things was finally packed. Her cat sat by the window where it had claimed a place for itself the second Mitsuhide had retrieved it from Takahiro’s loft space. Swishing its tail unhappily, as its blissful time enjoying the sunlight was being disturbed by the sounds of moving.
It had been a whirlwind experience coming back to Azuchi HQ after everything that happened. She had thought to try to explain everything at the church about her living arrangements but it seemed Mitsuhide already knew that she no longer had her apartment. He could have left her to return to Takahiro’s apartment but it seemed that was not an idea he wished to entertain. All of the familiar faces welcomed her regardless of the tension that was present in the air. Something had clearly been happening but it was going to be a few days before anyone explained the current situation to her.
Staying in his rooms at Azuchi was only ever supposed to be temporary. He was pulling strings and taking late-night phone calls trying to secure somewhere new. He wanted her to be safe it was key and his number one priority. Whilst it was safe at HQ Mitsuhide hadn’t felt entirely comfortable leaving her there on a permanent basis. [Name] was effectively a magnet for danger, as far as he could work out. Whilst they had survived a lot, he had no liking for the idea of leaving her in a place where she could easily become embroiled in yet another “plan”. On top of that if the others discovered [Name] was related in some distant way to the enemy he really didn’t like the idea of what might happen to her.
She took another look around the room just in case she had missed something they needed. Thinking that it looked just as empty as it had done when she first came here. Mitsuhide wasn’t exactly minimalist by choice it was something to do with his work. The less you have the fewer things people can use against you, but the lack of luxury items or things you might expect as a common standard of living somewhere were also not present in the apartment. He was never really at home to notice that an electric kettle or a microwave might actually help him a little in the mornings or late evenings. The longer she stayed the more she noticed little things she had taken for granted, like a hairdryer. She had taken to picking up these missed items on her way home from work.
Mitsuhide said nothing to the accumulation of objects appearing in his apartment. He knew what they all were and how to use them just had never seen a need to have them. They were together and would be for a long time. His small isolated little hole had been filled with something far closer to a kind of peace than he ever thought someone like him would even have a hope of seeing. It was a form of culture shock that was not entirely unpleasant. Despite his home being taken over with progressively more acquired bric-a-brac and miscellaneous goods, he felt comfortable and at ease. She had turned his place into the same warm and inviting area her apartment was, and he found he sort of liked it.
“Hey Kitten, you got any more ready to go?” A lively voice called out before the person attached to it had even managed to make it into the room.
“Think this is the last one.” [Name] called back turning to smile at the men who had been helping shift most of the belongings.
“Good because I’m not making any more trips.” Ieyasu huffed cracking open the lid on a bottle of mineral water and chugging half of it in one go.
“It was nice of you to help out Yasu.” [Name] smiled sweetly unaffected by the salty blonde’s attitude.
“I’m only doing it to shut Hideyoshi up and to get you and the body collector out of my hair.” Ieyasu hastily started to make an excuse desperate to hide the redness he felt breaking out on his face. He wasn’t exactly a stranger to interacting with women but there were certain types of them that seemed to trigger him to fluster badly. Masa often teased him that it looked like he was a teenager having a short circuit because a pretty girl spoke to them.
“Body collector?” She inclined her head a quizzical expression replacing that beaming smile.
“Best not to ask Lass. Yasu’s still a little salty over having to deal with what is left of your fella’s… whatever he does.” Masa chuckled and put his hand on her head. [Name] pulled herself back swatting the hand from her and met his smile with a brief glare that was rendered powerless by the man’s lack of concern.
“It’s strange to think I’m leaving here again.” She rolled her eyes and glanced about again.
“It’s not too late you know Kitten. Just have to say the word and I could steal you away…” Masa moved like a cat sliding up closer and leaning over to whisper in her ear. Failing spectacularly as his volume control was definitely off.
“My-my, someone is feeling confident despite his lack of depth perception.” A teasing voice came some somewhere behind them carrying a chilling edge to it. All three of them turned to see Mitsuhide propped up against the doorway, one hand in his trouser pocket. The smile on his face at first glance appeared pleasant but didn’t reach his eyes at all, it could send a shiver up anyone’s back.
---
It had taken some time to secure a residence for them but after conducting some final checks he was finally back at HQ. That little diversion from earlier had been interesting but he was still thankful for it to have reached its conclusion swiftly. He parked his car alongside the van that stood there with its loading doors wide open revealing box after box piled up methodically, each one labelled in her delicate handwriting. Looks like I’m a little late to the party on this one. I wonder who got the job of assisting the Princess. I could see Hideyoshi doing that, the man never knows when to stop smothering.
Moving from the car park to the elevator in the lobby he was hit with a feeling of something a little nostalgic. He had never really taken the time to appreciate the building. It was a base of operations, somewhere to work out of and run back too. It was also naturally a legitimate business and on a weekday was as busy as an anthill at a picnic. Today though it was quiet and as he stepped into the lift, he realised that the significance of the place was about to shift for him. He would be here but it was only going to be for work. He would maintain a room but it would only be for use on occasion. Is this what a normal life feels like? Working and then going home somewhere else?
The closer he got to his rooms the more he was aware of activity. And then just before he entered, he heard the unmistakable voice of Masa.
“It’s not too late you know Kitten. Just have to say the word and I could steal you away…”
“My-my, someone is feeling confident despite his lack of depth perception.” He stopped in the doorway adopting an air of nonchalance when he was, in fact, feeling anything but. The familiar tease in his voice didn’t manage to cover for him either. Of all the people why him? It’s not as bad as Shingen I suppose but still…
“I knew you were there.” Masa snorted meeting Mitsuhide’s smile with a knowing grin of his own. It was like watching a cat and dog in a face-off about to have a scuffle.
“Then you are also lacking in your sense of personal preservation.” Mitsuhide slowly moved closer to [Name] pushing himself between her and Masa forcing the other man back. Masa was chuckling and looking at Mitsuhide as if he had just found something brand new and shiny to play with. Don’t try to play games with me. You can only imagine what I will do and even then, I would easily surpass your delusions. Wait a minute why am I so annoyed right now?
“Have you met Masa? The guy is a walking disaster who is basically a pain in my ass.” Ieyasu spoke up disrupting the atmosphere enough to dissipate some of the friction.
“Haha, I’m going to miss you guys.” Her laughter from behind him snuffed out the last of his rising turmoil. She was a miracle balm to his fraying nerves. He was still not used to this thing called “love” they shared. It still threatened to be an all-consuming fire he would happily die in.
“No need to pull that face [Name].” Masa adjusted himself and pulled back. He had amused himself enough and didn’t wish to upset Mitsuhide further. It was so easy to see the emotions playing in the usually unreadable man. He had seen them clear as day in his friend after that fake funeral incident and the only one oblivious to it was apparently the man himself.
“He’s right, not like you are going so far away you can’t visit. I will probably be busy but you will no doubt find a way to disturb me.”
“Wouldn’t hurt you to be a bit more honest there Yasu.” Masa laughed and roughly rubbed his knuckles over the top of the fluffy blonde’s head, before picking up the last sealed box. “Anyway, I’ll take this down to the van.”
“I’ll hold the door for you.” Ieyasu leapt forward and barged past Masa nearly knocking him over in a rush to escape the room.
“Being awfully friendly today aren’t you Yasu?” Masa looked a little shocked at the sudden show of enthusiastic helpfulness.
“Not really I just don’t want to stay around here and play gooseberry.”
“Those two make a good pair.” [Name] said wistfully as she watched the others leave. It made him feel like he wanted to make her look at him.
“They do have an extraordinary ability to make up for each other’s deficiency.” He turned around locking her small frame in his arms. “Now then little one whatever shall I do with you?” I never had myself pegged for a possessive man. You really do have a curious power little mouse. The things you do to me.
“Me? What did I do now? I haven’t done anything.” [Name] startled and her blue eyes began to flicker around wandering the room attempting to remember anything that might have incurred punishment.
“You are very guilty my dear, you just haven’t realised it yet.” He dipped low and sealed her lips shut with his. I will never get bored with watching you, my love. If this is a dream I don’t want to wake up.
“Mmfph… Mitsuhide! Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” She placed her hand on his chest pushing him back. Her upturned eyes looking at his searching for answers he didn’t wish to give. Jealous? Ah, so that’s what that was…
“Alright… I won’t tell you.” His lips curved into a wolf-like grin as he claimed her mouth again.
---
The stars in the sky were obscured by that sickly glow from the city. He could only very faintly pick out one or two points of light above him. The air felt heavy but he was unsure whether that was an omen of rain or the echo of his own discomfort.  
His time at the club had been a welcome distraction even if he hadn’t been able to completely let go. The carefully crafted world of his was becoming more unstable. Voices carried in the wind, not wanting to openly admit the facts. They were concerned once more and it all had a negative impact on the trust, they had in Azuchi. A trust they had in him. The firm hand he once held the city with was being pried open and he could feel it slipping like sand through his fingers. But who the hell is it? Who is still pulling strings?
He sighed and lowered himself down onto the bench in the pavilion. His gaze moved from a fixed point in the past to the present and he frowned. Nobody liked change, but that is exactly what was happening. Esshu should have collapsed but didn’t. There was one reason for that, the only one that made any logical sense and it was that there was more than one head running the show. Wheels and cogs began to turn in his mind as he thought through various proposals and suggestions that he could use to secure a foot in the door at the other company. Anything I offer would be much harder to refuse if I could just find the focal point. That weak link in the chain that holds all the strings. Who do I know that could find that?
---
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war-of-the-words · 4 years
Text
Stuck in the Balance - Part 2
Written Sept 2019 <<Previous Part Read on AO3
When Luck summoned the two of them to the meeting chambers, Kaito was surprised. Aoko knew that the upcoming ceremony was stressful for everyone involved, so why she would summon the most important people in it--this close to it--escaped him.
When Kaito arrived, the other apprentice was already present. He was silently sitting in a chair near Aoko’s. Kaito bowed slightly since it had been a formal summons before taking his seat.
The future Death spoke before too long had lasted, “Lady Luck, to what do we owe the pleasure of being summoned here today?”
Kaito had to take a moment to register that the other’s voice was what he had heard. It was absolutely beautiful. Kaito turned his attention to Aoko as she started her response.
“I simply wanted to get a feel for how you two were handling the preparations for the ceremony. Most before you haven’t handled the transition well.”
Kaito shot a quick glance at the other man. He seemed to be almost frustrated at her response. “I don’t see the necessity to pull us out of our preparations just to ask how everything is going. If you don’t mind I’ll be taking my leave now. I have much to accomplish and very little time to do it.”
As the future Death approached the door, Aoko said one last thing directed to him, “Just-- Please keep in mind that you are never alone in your position. The rest of us are here to help.”
With a nod, he left the room.
Kaito watched as Aoko noticeably relaxed after he obviously wasn’t coming back. “Aoko, was that all you were going to say?”
“No, no it wasn’t but it will have to do for now. He is a stubborn one, you’ll have your hands full, Kaito.”
-<3-
Shinichi had to hold himself back from acting aggressively when he felt the transfer of power and confirmed it with Fate before she sent Life and Death to their next phase. His understanding was that there would be time for a quick rundown on control before they were separated from their mentors until their time on earth was over. He could already feel the slight pangs of no control and he was suddenly glad that any current realm holder couldn’t die.
But, he could now put a name to the other man that had been training on the opposite side for as long as he had. Kaito. His only true equal for as long as they held the titles. This should be interesting.
-<3-
The first time Kaito had to use his powers to negate Shinichi’s he honestly wasn’t expecting it. They had had an earlier conversation discussing what to do with a species that had invaded another’s space and was causing massive death on both sides. Together, they had come to the conclusion that eliminating the invading species was the proper way to solve the problem.
So, when he felt the spike of the other’s power he wasn’t surprised. He was surprised, however, when there seemed to be something fighting that spike, and then the spike was more like a tidal wave.
Kaito was quick to infer the answer: Chaos had decided to intervene. Chaos was a being that he had only met once before. When around him, Kaito had ended up confused enough that his mentor had separated them, leaving Kaito with a headache to nurse for a few days. After he had recovered, he was informed that Chaos was best left alone, as he was the only one that could influence another’s power to the point of no control.
Kaito’s best guess was that Chaos had created the mess they were trying to fix in the first place. So, the new Life rushed to his equal and opposite’s realm to help.
What he found was Shinichi crumpled on the floor, conscious, but obviously in pain, and, not 3 feet away, with rage flashing in his eyes, Chaos.
Kaito first addressed getting rid of the extra factor. Since he could influence the use of another’s power he could prevent his from helping Shinichi. “Leave, Chaos! Before you cause more harm.” The other being only smirked at him before vanishing. Next, Kaito had to focus on Shinichi. He slowly reached out with some of his own power and began soothing Shinichi’s with his own. Kaito watched the other relax and quickly moved closer, “Shinichi, are you alright?”
The other was slow to respond, but when he did it was with a smile. “I am now.”
-<3-
Gaining their own apprentices was an interesting process. Every little detail had to be approved by Fate and Luck both. The two had to be compatible, usually meaning they had to come from the same species and time period. Shinichi and Kaito usually were sitting together at a conference table in Fate’s realm when they had no other duties to attend to.
After the first month of searching, because the candidates they kept choosing were so different, Fate had made it so compatible possibilities would be connected to each other by a list toward the end of their profile.
By the time that Shinichi and Kaito had decided on a matching pair, they were already running behind in the other preparation necessary for their introduction.
-<3-
Introducing a new apprentice to the other-world was a much harder experience than either Kaito or Shinichi remembered their introduction being. But, it very well could have just seemed that way due to being on the opposite side of the preparations. For months ahead of time, they sat down with many of the other beings trying to arrange a schedule to introduce the apprentices to those that would truly be available for them to consult with on decisions that have to be made.
The actual bringing the apprentices to them was easy. Fate cast her spell, and suddenly they were there. Explaining what they were being dragged into? Much, much harder.
“So you’re like, making us immortal?”
“Kind of. Not entirely though. There are restrictions and policies that you will have to follow.”
“What exactly are we supposed to do though? Like do we need to-”
Shinichi cut off this question before it was finished. “You help maintain the balance. It’s not hard. You make sure creatures that die are replaced by living ones and vice versa. And then in a century, you get to teach your own apprentice how to do everything properly to take over for you. And the next few months should give you an idea on how to do that.”
-<3-
Before the ceremony, Aoko planned one last meeting between herself and the leaving Life and Death pair. She had had her first meeting with the apprentices early this morning, and wanted to consult with Kaito and Shinichi before they were to leave for Earth.
When they walked in, with the customary greetings and normal glances toward each other throughout their meeting, Aoko knew that it was time to let these two go be humans and left them with a few final words of wisdom before the next day’s ceremony--Fate never lets her Life and Death pairs get away with not meeting.
-<3-
Shinichi breathed in deeply as he lead his apprentice to the meeting point. The group of four had met many times before, if only in a way to show that Life and Death could have more together than just isolation. However, the catch to this was that they had to be very careful with names during these meetings because the apprentices were not allowed  names until the passing ceremony, and Life could not know Death’s apprentice’s name until the same point and vice versa.
As they approached each other, Shinichi reached out his hand to take Kaito’s. They exchanged smiles before turning to their apprentices.
“After today, you will no longer have us to depend on. Your choices will be your own. If you really need it the others will help you, but you also need to help one another if it comes down to it. You don’t have to become as close as we are, but you do need to at least form a bond of tolerance otherwise the next 100 years or so will not be fun.”
Kaito snickered at Shinichi’s statement, “Trust us. When we were in your spot, we properly met each other once before the ceremony, not that you would think that would be the case.”
The two stared at them for a moment before turning to one another and shaking hands. Satisfied, Shinichi and Kaito turned around and led their apprentices into Fate’s ceremonial chamber hand-in-hand.
-<3-
“Do you, Shinichi Kudou, agree that your apprentice is prepared to take over the symbolic role of Death for at least the next century?”
“I do.”
“Have you, as their mentor, taught them everything you believe they will need to know to take care of this role for the time in which they will fill it.
“I have.”
“Do you, Kaito Kuroba, agree that your apprentice is prepared to take over the symbolic role of Life for at least the next century?”
“I do.”
“Have you, as their mentor, taught them everything you believe they will need to know to take care of this role for the time in which they will fill it.
“I have.”
Fate had Shinichi and Kaito step to the side and had the apprentices step forward and take their places kneeling in the same spot the two had just left.
“Do you promise to take care of your role and perform it to the best of your ability?”
Both apprentices nodded in agreement.
“Do you accept that one day you will be on the opposite side of this ceremony and will have to train an apprentice of your own to take on the role when it is decided it is time to move the titles on?”
The two apprentices once again nodded.
Once fate had recognized their responses, she turned to Shinichi and Kaito. “Are you ready?” At their nod and fleeting glance at one another, she waved her hand, a dazed look came over their faces and the apprentices felt the power transfer. She turned to them, “Did it transfer properly?” They nodded, she snapped her fingers, and Kaito and Shinichi faded from view.
-<3-
“C’mon, Shinichi! You promised you would go to Tropical Land with me! My friend Aoko bought the tickets already! You can’t just let that go to waste!”
Shinchi sighed and put down his copy of A Study in Scarlet. “Ran, I don’t have time to go to Tropical Land this afternoon. I have to go into the office to put the final touches on a police report.”
“Then why haven’t you done it yet? I bet you’ve been reading Holmes all morning. Besides, you never leave a case only needing ‘final touches,’ you always go ahead and finish it.”
Shinichi inwardly grimaced at being caught in the lie. Sometimes he forgot just how freakishly well Ran could read him. “Fine, I’ll go, but--” he was cut off by Ran cheering and attempting to pull him out of his chair, “--but, I’m not doing any of the weird souvenir photo stuff.”
Ran pouted slightly before accepting the compromise and dragging him out the door.
When they finally arrived at the entrance to Tropical Land, it became obvious that Ran was looking for somebody specific before even considering joining the steadily growing queue.
“Ran! Over here!”
Shinichi brought his attention to the call for his friend only to see a girl that he found to be strikingly similar in appearance to Ran and a boy that looked way too familiar for it to be the first time that they had ever met. Had they seen each other before and Shinichi was just having trouble putting the name to the face? No, that couldn’t be it. He always remembered names. Perhaps they frequented the same park and had seen one another in passing? That was more likely.
Shinichi watched the same slightly confused look that was surely on his face form on the other boy’s as Ran dragged him closer to the other pair. Good, so at least he wasn’t the only one that felt some sort of recognition when looking at the other.
When the two pairs stood across from one another, the Ran-look-alike spoke up, “I’m Aoko Nakamori. You must be Shinichi Kudou. Ran has told me a lot about you.” She took a moment to smile at him, which gave Shinichi the chance to see further recognition flash in the other boy’s eyes, before continuing, “And this is my friend--”
“--Kaito Kuroba. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the boy-Kaito-said as he extended his hand. When Shinichi took it, it was like the world stopped.
Years worth of memories seemed to hit him at once. He could remember doing things that he definitely had not done in this lifetime, but felt right. Him escorting Ran into death’s realm, the first time Shinichi had met Life’s apprentice in that cafe, the awkward meetings that they were sent to toward the end of their mentor’s time, and the many, many escapades they had gotten up to in the ensuing years. Everything that they had done together throughout the last century hit his mind at once, leaving both of their faces warm at some of the more embarrassing moments.
Shinichi thought back to everything that Aoko said shortly before their resignation ceremony. Fate really does tie its Life and Death pairs together forever.
END
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onyxfeldspar · 4 years
Text
Jade/Onyx Interview
@jade-ametrine 
As the first people being interviewed, Onyx had little idea of what to expect from the new interviewer. He had only heard what his mentor and stylists had told the two of them as they were being pruned and perfected for the eyes of the Capitol. It seemed like she was a force to be reckoned with - something that terrified Onyx.
In his head, he was sure they were going to have a kind, sensitive soul like they had grown accustomed to over the past ten years of the games, but after their unexpected death last year, it seemed the Capitol had made some very different arrangements.
But he had Jade with him, and as long as they stuck to the plan, the two of them would be just fine. That’s what he tried to think as the two of them were marched over to the side of the stage.
The next part was a little bit of a blur for Onyx. All too quickly their names were being called out and they were parading themselves across the stage. Greetings were exchanged, and Onyx felt Dora’s warm, wet kiss against his cheek, but nothing else seemed to stick. He felt Jade’s arm, gently guiding him on to the sofa, and forced himself to pay more attention. He couldn’t afford to miss anything here.
“Now,” Dora said, clapping her hands together and fixing her eyes on Jade, “first things first - Jade, the one to watch - how does it feel to have secured that title two times over?” She leaned a little closer in anticipation.
“It feels correct.” Jade laughed, beaming out at the audience members that laughed along with her. “I mean, they can’t exactly put me right on the pedestal straight away but I really do love you all for voting that I’m the one you’ve all got your eye on!” Her wink to the camera’s was solely for those not in the live studio audience, Jade knew if she played effervescent and bubbly that The Capitol would see a side of her that wasn’t all about the training or the scores, she had to be likeable as well as skilled. 
Dora gave a small gasp and waved her hand in the air, all but brushing off Jade’s answer entirely as she turned to Onyx and gripped his leg, giving it a squeeze. Onyx started, trying to maintain some sense of composure as the woman rounded on him.
“Does it bother you, being in Jade’s shadow throughout this whole process?”
Onyx frowned, looking from Jade to Dora and then back to Jade. Why would it bother him? He shook his head and cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice calm and even.
“Not at all. It’s hard to ignore how good Jade is at what she does, and I’m not about to complain about it either.”
Dora nodded her head sagely, letting go of Onyx’s leg and moving back in her chair.
“Yes, yes. “We’ve all been wondering what the exact nature of your relationship is.” She waved her hand around to reference the audience. “Is it merely platonic… or perhaps something more?”
Dora raised an eyebrow, her smile growing as the crowd began to cheer.
“We’re, uh…” Onyx gave Jade a sheepish smile. Their relationship had changed in immeasurable ways in the short time they had spent in the Capitol, with some of that blame falling on the Capitol’s shoulders - but Onyx knew they were referring to the almost kiss. His almost kiss. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. No one knows me better than she does.”
Onyx used this moment to take Jade’s hand in his, feeling rather like a schoolboy who was experiencing his first crush under the blinding spotlight of the Capitol.
“It seems stupid that I haven’t kissed her before now.”
Jade held Onyx’s hand tightly in hers, that feeling of anxiety that they could be separated rising in her again as she gripped his hand softly enough that it didn’t hurt but hard enough that he would feel it. If he was going to make a move she knew that now was the time he had to do it. With a practiced movement she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes letting the Capitol’s anticipation build. Raising her head to look directly at the boy she’d known for so long, she felt her face beaming with adoration for him. Now she thought to herself. He has to do it now. 
Onyx hated this. He would have preferred to do it anywhere except here. But they had little choice in the matter. Their ability to survive the games depended upon this moment, so he reached towards her, tracing the edge of her jaw before cupping her cheek with his hand. My Jade, he thought as he looked into her eyes, and all of a sudden the pressure from the Capitol melted away. Their lips brushed, softly at first, as though he was asking for permission, and then any pretence of control he had was gone as he kissed her again, and again, and again.
It was only at the sound of Dara clearing her throat that he moved away, wrapping an arm around Jade and choosing to pull her closer to him instead. He tried to focus on Dora, but all he could think about was Jade’s lips on his and how badly he wanted to kiss her again.
It was clear to Jade that Onyx was playing this moment for all that it was worth, but she couldn’t decide whether it was for The Capitol or for himself, she felt her cheeks flush with nervousness and excitement, her first real kiss, in front of all of these people. She wasn’t mad at the idea, but she didn’t want to give the Capitol enough time to notice that this was something completely new to her, she broke away and grinned into Onyx’s face, drinking in his happiness and letting it wash over her too. 
“Oh!” Dora exclaimed, fanning herself vigorously with her hand. “I do believe we have a Capitol Exclusive!” She played up to the audience, joining in with their cooing and ahhing and pretending to blush.
Meanwhile, Onyx and Jade only had eyes for each other. Onyx couldn’t keep his goofy smile off his face as he looked at her, the noise of the audience becoming a mere murmur as his head spun at a mile a minute. He hadn’t always wanted to kiss her. There was a time where they were just friends. In fact, it was only in the run up to the Capitol that he had started to realise just how lost he really was without Jade. He couldn’t help but wonder if this would have happened if they hadn’t ended up in the Games.
“I’m getting all hot under my collar just looking at the pair of you.” Dora declared, pulling their gaze back to her as she continued on with the show. “I could sit here all day gushing about the pair of you, but alas, we have one more question before our time together is over.”
She paused for a moment, waiting for the crowd to settle down.
“Your training scores were very surprising to us. Getting a twelve must mean you did something right!” She gave a shrill laugh before turning her gaze to Onyx again, her face suddenly full of concern. “How did you feel when you saw your training scores?”
Jade knew that the question was coming but refused to balk at it, instead steeling herself with another smile and letting Onyx reply first, it was important to her that this was his moment to shine. 
“You know,” he said, glancing over at Jade, “I think I went into that evaluation a little distracted. I mean, can you blame me?” His hand rested itself on Jade’s thigh as he laughed along with the audience, the movement feeling surprisingly natural to him.
“It was definitely a wake-up call.” He continued as the laughter died down. “Jade alone is a force to be reckoned with, of course, but I need to keep my focus if I want to make sure I can be there for her. That’s the most important thing for me.”
I was all that Jade could do to laugh in the right places along with the audience and respond with humility at Onyx fawning over her. What she wanted to do was tell everyone just how much Onyx could do and how dangerous he could be in a fight, but he was right, he could get distracted and it appeared that The Capitol were trying their best to distract the pair of them. Jade felt a sudden pang of panic in her chest as she realised what The Capitol had done to others before Onyx that she’d held dear. Her Mother, Her Father. Jade pushed through the doubt to answer calmly. 
“I think that we're both caught up in each other. He gets so distracted.” Jade laughed and turned once again to the camera, “You know how it is, but I think that it focussed us both into realising that as long as we’re together we’ll win this and get to the other side, and back home.” Jade’s attention turned back to Onyx and she drank him in again. “I couldn’t do it without him.” 
Dora sighed, she’d fallen for their plan hook line and sinker, they were star crossed lovers that had loved each other for all this time. They would be going into this together and nothing would tear them apart, not even the arena, not even The Capitol. The host held her hands to her chest and let out another sigh, only to be snapped from her revelry by a loud buzzer that made everyone jump including the tributes, audience and host. 
“Oh--” Dora said, looking over towards one of the cameras. “Is that our time? Such a shame.” She ushered the two of them to their feet, her picture-perfect smile plastered on her face as she wrapped her bony arms around them.
“It’s been an absolute pleasure to meet the two of you.” She gripped Jade’s arm, giving her a pointed stare. “And hopefully you’ll be following in your father’s footsteps any day now, hm?” 
“You wish.” Jade hissed back, ripping her arm from Dora’s grasp. “You’re first on my list if I get out, watch your back Tales.” 
Dora let out a little tinkle of a laugh and then turned to face the audience once more, the altercation all but invisible to the audience watching at home. 
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please give it up for District One’s finest: Jade Ametrine and Onyx Feldspar!”
“I swear.” Jade growled as soon as they were out of view of the cameras. “We’re winning this, I’m coming back and I’m going to kick that bitch from here to kingdom come.” 
As they began to make their way off the stage, clips began playing behind them of people they knew back home. Friends and family, the people they had trained with and danced with - even the local club owner had been taken in to be interviewed, all of them wishing Jade and Onyx the best of luck as they took their leave, the sounds of their friends well-wishes reverberating around them as their interview came to a close.
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