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be-dazzled · 4 years

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The Art of Falling

Chapter III CONSISTENCY IS KEY

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser, Gajeel Redfox Alternative Historical Universe Genre: Old World Vibes, Period Romance All Chapters: Click here | Taglist

Writer’s Corner: OKAY so I hid an Easter egg in there. Hint: Anime only, related to Juvia. Can you guys guess? Ahahaha. And, oh, I should put the writer’s corner after the story but oh well, let me know what you think of the couple I added in here. Also, I really hope Gray’s cousin is a character you will all like. I love her! Also, dayum period romance really don’t use everyday conversation english, do they? Show me some love. :*

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The morning began with the entire Fullbuster household personally attending to the arrival of Lord Silver Fullbuster's beloved niece and her respectable husband. Gray abandoned his wish to come and pay the Locksers a visit to welcome his cousin, Ultear Vastia née Milkovich. She was travelling with her family: her husband Lyon and their daughter Ur, named after her deceased mother. The Vastia couple frequented the Fullbuster Manor, in the fall, when Mr. Vastia's business affairs lulled; they spend a week or so at the mansion, to keep Lady Mika some company. This fall, they arrived with a welcomed addition to their growing family, a six-month old little Ur whom the Lord and the Lady has taken quite the fondness of.

Lunch was spent exchanging stories of the great adventure that was raising little Ur, who the Lord and the Lady came to know, liked to slumber in the day and refused to allow her parents any sleep in the night. So, as soon as the little one awakened, Lord and Lady Fullbuster has taken it upon themselves to entertain the little eyes and insisted on keeping Ur company, while suggesting heavily to their son that it was a good time as any to practice. The young couple stayed behind at the drawing room, kept entertained by Grayden Fullbuster as he played a classical tune on the pianoforte.

Lyon joined his wife on the sofa and brought with him a bottle of fine wine from Lord Silver's cellar. He poured a generous serving in his wife's glass, knowing fully how Ultear missed her night caps.

"Would it be safe to do that?" Gray inquired without taking his eyes off the piano keys. As far as he was aware, drinking alcohol was discouraged upon mothers who breastfed.

"My doctor assured me one, occasional drink would not hurt." reasoned Ultear. "But enough about me. Why shan't we talk about you?" Yet the lady felt obliged to put her glass down after a long sip, then, returned to her husband's warm embrace. "I heard you are frequenting a certain household."

"And whom have you heard this information from?" As part of his noble upbringing, Gray had learned to play the piano as early as he could command his fingers. On the night's occasion, he chose "Air", a classic he had played far too many times, that his fingers knew where to land before he even thought of it.

"A man with a stature and fortune as yours? News travel fast, my dear cousin."

Gray allowed his company a small smile but paid them no more attention as the young pianist fell deeply into his song; only his mellow but pronounced melody filled the silence that befell the room, much to Mrs. Vastia's chagrin.

"Have you set your heart on a Lockser?"

"There are talks about the eldest Lockser's beauty. How it is comparable to that of Helen." Lyon chose that moment to put in a word into the conversation, associating with Miss Lockser the woman of Troy, whose beauty had launched a thousand ships. With Ultear's sharp eyes narrowed at him, Lyon quickly corrected himself before he invoked the ire of his wife. "But only because you, my beautiful wife, had already conceded to marriage."

Lyon bade his time, put on a forged smile turned troubled by the second, until his wife released his beseeching stare and Mr. Vastia could finally breathe relief. She placed a hand on his cheek and lovingly patted a hand on hit.

"I trained you well."

Gray dexterously quickened the tempo of his tune. Oblivious to the unabashed display of affection between the married man and woman, he closed his eyes, pictured the black and white keys clearly in his mind and swayed to the rhythm of his personal version of Air on G String.

"Gray, are you choosing to ignore me?"

"I know better not to."

"Very well. Now, do I have to wrestle the information out of you?"

A single note stretched on before Gray abruptly ended his tune and abandoned his playing. He sighed in defeat and accepted the fact that he was not going to finish the song. What great disrespect to the legendary J.S. Bach. He turned on his seat and addressed the couple holding each other closely on the daybed; the light from the fireplace danced on their feature. Although Lyon and Ultear were married for a year and had conceived a child of their own, Gray was still of the opinion that such display of affection should be shared only in the privacy of their home.

"I admit to the fact that I am seeking a maiden's hand in marriage."

Gray had said it in a tone so solemn that the couple wanted to laugh at its absurdity. In the end, however, seeing no humor in Gray's expression, the answer piqued the couple's interest, Ultear's more than her husband's, that she broke contact from him to devote her attention to her dearest cousin.

"And that maiden's name is?"

"Ms. Juvia Lockser."

The couple exchanged a bewildered look. Gray, however, had no single inkling on what possibly caused his visitors to respond in such a way. He had not any idea that in their little circle, as much as in every household in that town, there was only one Lockser daughter worth mentioning and it was not the name he had given them. But from the hundreds of questions running about in their heads, there was only one Ultear found worth inquiring.

"Is it true then that she left you beaten out in the cold?"

---

"I am flattered that my poor situation could offer you some amusement."

If Lyon Vastia was not a friend from the University and the husband of his beloved cousin, Gray ought to boot him out of Magnolia and back to where he came from. Gray was not one to abuse his power and influence but with how the married man had laughed at him from the Manor all the way to the Lockser House, there was no nerve left of him undisturbed.

"My apologies." The gentleman did not even pretend to try and stifle the chuckles erupting from him. "But this is the best news I've received since the birth of my child." Lyon fixed his coat around him, trying and failing to gather himself as they waited outside the Locksers' door. For he knew Gray was not one inclined to violence; yet, his was a story to be told for generations to come – of how the gentleman was knocked out cold by his future wife.

"Kindly keep your amusement to yourself. Do not embarrass me."

Gray knocked on the door once again, careful not to startle the inhabitants of the house but visibly irate at the older lad stood behind him. From the moment Juvia presented to him the challenge, as soon as the sun risen, Gray stood outside those retiring double doors, waiting for the invitation in. He had those doors slammed in his face twice, all by the hostile second daughter, before he could even pronounce his morning greeting. His father, however, had always reminded him that a man who was trying to win a maiden's heart must endure. Hence, at the moment, he awaited on the stoop, despite being deemed unwelcomed, until a more agreeable Lockser opens the door and invites them in.

Third time was the charm.

Alike the mornings of his every visit, the day began with a slam of the door followed by the reopening of it and a rather exuberant greeting by Mrs. Lockser, a creature much more affable than her second daughter, and her apologizing for said daughter's rudeness.

"I don't know who she takes after." She claimed. "I raised my children well."

By this time, however, Gray had taken it to be the regular course of his courtship.

Gray presented his companion, introducing Lyon as his cousin in law. The latter, same as with Gray, was a man of pedigree. Hence, the first few minutes of the social call were spent with pleasantries. As his cousin, Ultear had suggested, Gray came bearing gifts – the finest ribbons and richest tobacco.

Ultear had given him a good lecture on engagement. The first rule of which was to win the favor of the family, a stratagem her husband sworn by. In Gray's recollection, Lyon had only paid him attention to gain an introduction with Ultear Milkovich, who was then deemed the most beautiful and desirable maiden of all Fiore. Without Gray's aide, Lyon could not have married the lady of his dreams. The young tradesman then decided it was high time he returned the favor. With his wife's blessing, Lyon offered his finest commodities to serve as Gray's presents.

"The moment I heard my dear cousin, Gray, is vying for a woman's affection, my wife and I had decided to bring these all the way from my hometown."

With a merchant's smile plastered on his face, Lyon managed to win more favor, as if the fortune Gray was to inherit was not enough for Mrs. Lockser to worship the young lad.

"You shan't have burdened yourselves, my good gentlemen." said Mr. Lockser, but his wife's face lightened up as she inspected the gifts with astonished eyes.

"Look, my dear! These are hard to come by." Mrs. Lockser presented the case of expensive tobacco to her husband. "Oh and with these beautiful ribbons, my daughters will be envied by this town!" exclaimed she, prancing around her rather crowded parlour. Her happiness had afforded Gray a breath of relief, putting the young suitor at ease until Mrs. Lockser called out to Juvia from the staircase. "Juvia come down and see this!"

There was no response so Mrs. Lockser marched upstairs to take along the daughter herself.

Then came Eliana to step into her mother's absence and expressed her own gratitude towards Mr. Fullbuster. She had a smile that warmed up the room and it aided in Gray's growing self-consciousness. It was the moment that Juvia arrived at – Gray and Eliana sharing in comfortable silence. She then realized how understated the talks were around town, that Grayden Fullbuster and Eliana Lockser made a perfect couple. They were a match made in heaven, she could tell. Eliana's ethereal beauty could make up for what her family lacked in affluence and connections. Her grace and ladylike demeanor very much suited the position of a noble's wife. Gray had no business wooing the wrong sister and if he was to change his choice, she could not blame him, for Juvia was nothing but rude to the young master.

"What are you still doing standing there and having to make your guests wait?"

Juvia tore her contemplating gaze away from the couple she, and the rest of the community, had decided in their minds. Her mother walked past her, oblivious of the resolve Juvia had arrived at.

"What a rude child." Mrs. Lockser complained to herself, then, as if taking off some kind of invisible mask, changed her deportment into a rather overly familiar hostess.

It was then that Juvia caught Gray's eyes, staring up at her without breaking, as the young lady descended the stairs. He only averted his gaze when an unfamiliar lad, dressed in garb as fancy as that of Mr. Fullbuster's, tapped his shoulders and passed him the most beautiful flowers Juvia had ever seen. Her brows furrowed in confusion as Gray walked past her beautiful sister, who deserved the offering of beauty that could rival Miss Lockser's, and stepped forward to meet Juvia at the foot of the staircase. Her eyes had wandered, however, not to meet Gray's dark ones, but at the white Magnolias held in his hands being presented to her. Without meaning to do it, Juvia's own hands saved him the trouble and gathered the bouquet in their safety.

"You should not have." She said in a tone that was neither happy nor content, without removing her eyes from the lovely whites. "Flowers die when removed from their stems." Those words, however, left her lips with indignation. She raised her eyes from the poor flowers and directed them at the confused gentleman from whom they came from, repeating, "Flowers die when removed from their stems."

Gray was left wondering if what was deemed a polite gesture had offended the young lady whose affection he sought. This should not have surprised him; however, since in the beginning he knew, Juvia Lockser was different from the rest of the ladies of Magnolia. Instead of being meekly but happily receiving such beautiful products of nature, like any lady would, Juvia had given him the deadliest stare he had ever had to confront in his life.

"My apologies."

"Non-sense!" Mrs. Lockser interrupted, dispersing the unfriendly air around the two. "You shouldn't apologize for bringing such wonderful flowers, Mr. Fullbuster." She snatched the fresh bouquet in Juvia's hands and casted a reprimanding glance towards the recipient. "And my daughter should be more grateful." She let a moment of silence stretch on, excused herself to the kitchen and instructed her family to help the guests be more comfortable whilst she prepare some refreshments.

With Mrs. Lockser away, the role of host fell onto the lap of Mr. Julian Lockser.

"Please have a seat, Mr. Fullbuster. Mr. Vastia, is it?"

"Yes, sir." answered Lyon politely. He sat next to his friend and cousin-in-law, who obeyed Mr. Lockser diligently.

Foresight had encouraged the second Lockser daughter to excuse herself, for if she wanted to go on about her day, she must now leave before her father started a conversation. His talks often lasted more than necessary.

"Father, if you may please allow me," Juvia had already stood up from her station and motioned to the front door. "I would like to be excused."

Juvia had always been the odd one in the family. She always felt out of place standing next to her sisters but she loved them all the same. She was often the center of her mother's attention and reproach, when her focus was momentarily stolen away from the loveliest daughter, for deviating from social norms and expectations of a lady. Juvia was the kind that would rather come with her father and help in the fields or wander around the woods, something a woman of her age would never be caught dead doing. In all this, she found an ally in his father who would indulge Juvia in her antics, only if it shall drive her mother to the edge of sanity, which both Juvia and her father enjoyed immensely.

However, Mr. Lockser knew there was time for propriety. Furthermore, he was very much aware of the graveness of this visit. His fortune was not well enough to support more than one family.

"Let's entertain our guests, my darling. They have travelled far and early to see our humble abode."

Juvia glanced at the culprit of the visit indignantly. Her frown had placed the blame of disrupting her morning on none other than her self-proclaimed suitor, who met her frown with confusion. Because it was Mr. Lockser who asked, Juvia had no other choice but to return to her place on the sofa and be obligated to listen in boring dialogues or otherwise.

"And what is it that you do, Mr. Vastia?"

Mr. Lockser displayed great interest in Mr. Vastia's business and spent the rest of the morning discussing it, which Juvia had easily foreseen. There was no stopping her father once his interest was roused. Juvia had no other choice but to suffer through it in excruciating silence. Alas, when the conversation rounded into a retelling of Mr. Vastia's adventures in the sea, Juvia's sleepiness had ebbed away. Her ears perked as she listened with much gusto, pitching her own inquiries here and there. For only tales of danger and adventure could hold Juvia's full attention and appease her thirst for them.

"My apologies, good sir, but I have been speaking of myself since this morning. You might see me as a vain man." He meekly coughed a short laugh in an attempt to be perceived modest. "I may have forgotten the reason my cousin and I had come today." He glanced at the reason for their visit, whose amusement had dulled at the interruption. "If Ms. Juvia would allow this gentleman a private audience." Lyon tapped a hand on Gray's shoulder, surprising him momentarily, yet passing the message as clear as day.

"Y-yes," started Gray, "if you may allow sir, I would like to request a private dialogue with your daughter."

"Pardon my interjection, good sirs." It was Juvia who answered on her own behalf, not wanting to be left out of the conversation of which she was the subject of. "If Mr. Fullbuster desired so, should he not have asked for it a moment ago?"

In truth, Juvia did not like the sudden turn of the conversation. She much preferred sitting through every storm the brave tradesman had to grapple with, to return to shore and be reunited with his family, rather than be left alone with the insufferably silent, dull and reserved Mr. Fullbuster.

"He was taken aback by your presence, Miss Juvia. Kindly forgive my cousin."

Such manner of speaking was quite familiar with Juvia; although she had never been the subject of such lighthearted teasing, as no one ever dared speak to a shrew. Even so, without much experience, Juvia could hold her own conversation.

"Could Mr. Fullbuster not speak for himself that you must do it on his behalf?"

Juvia had hidden her intention to affront both gentlemen in a rather sweet but arch smile, something Lyon never expected from this contemptuous lady. The young women of Magnolia were raised to behave with reserved manner and endearing meekness. So it came as a surprise that a young woman such as Juvia had no trouble challenging him. Lyon was dumbfounded that he forgot how to speak for a moment, for there was only a number of people who had such effect on him, and failed to rise to her challenge.

There were many words to describe Mrs. Lockser and heaven-sent was positively not one of them. In that moment, however, when she walked back into the parlour with her pleasant smelling tea and sunny disposition, Lyon conceded to calling her that, a heaven sent, for she had saved him from the blindsided discomfiture.

---

Daylight had gone without Juvia ever having to get out of the house and see it. Her father and mother, but mostly the latter, held the young people hostage in the house. She wished the good gentlemen would take the intimation and excused themselves. The lack of sunlight made the young lady out of sorts and she would not have wanted to be the one to ask them to leave. If Mr. Vastia had not remembered the family waiting for him, the two lads would have joined the Locksers for dinner and Juvia would have lost her manners.

Fatigue had caught up with her when she retired for the night, which Juvia found odd as she had not any activities throughout the day. So, how come her body felt too weary and her muscles too cramp? She walked in to her sisters tucking themselves into their own beds and came to the conclusion that it was too late to search for answers. The second child headed to her own bed stationed between her sisters' and chanced upon the white Magnolias arranged beautifully in a budvase next to it. Much like how she reacted to first meeting them earlier, her hands reached out to them on their own.

"Beautiful, are they not?"

Eliana's voice surprised Juvia that her hand hanged in the air for a moment before she quickly withdrew it back to her side. The eldest crossed to her bed and settled on it as her fingers gently felt the delicate white petals of Juvia's bouquet; her appreciating eyes never left the beautiful display.

"Have you any idea what Magnolias symbolize? Nobility and dignity. Mother says they've been around for thousands of years." Eliana's soft eyes studied the beauty right before her, tossing her head at every angle, lost in the appreciation of the white Magnolias. "They best represent Mr. Fullbuster, do you agree?" She asked in a tone, however, that required no response and so, Juvia did not answer. Instead, the latter examined the sister before her.

Eliana had the gift of seeing only the best in people, of finding beauty in each thing. Juvia could say her sister was too innocent, too naïve but it was one thing she envied of her. Not her beauty, not her flawlessness, but her ability to only see the good.

"You may take them if you wish."

"Non-sense!" Eliana only withdrew her eyes away from the flowers to look at her sister with outrage. "These were offered to you. I was only admiring them." She stood from the bed and motioned towards her own, saying her goodnights to her younger sisters without ever glancing at them. Wendy was fast asleep in her own bunk while Juvia, once again, failed to answer. It seemed that her older sister was not expecting one as Eliana slipped under the covers and faced the opposite wall, away from her kin.

"You admire an illusion, my dear sister." Juvia then turned her eyes towards the white Magnolias, this time, without need but with restrained want of touching them. "For you see, flowers wither as quickly as the sand filters through one's hand."

Juvia never placed high hopes on whatever thing, because sooner than later, the Magnolias would wither and there would be nothing left of it but some proof of its once beautiful existence. Everything must come to an end and such was the fact of life. So, she fell asleep then wondering if how long Gray's misplaced affection would last for such a disagreeable woman as her.

---

"Trust me when I say this, my love," The first thing Lyon did once they arrived back at the mansion was to seek the comfort of his wife. He slipped onto her lap, rested his head on them and waited until Ultear finished the page she was reading and closed her book, "I have never felt so unwanted in my life."

"Don't be overdramatic," interjected Gray, "we made progress."

"Progress?" He turned to the gentleman who spoke while his wife combed her fingers through his silver hair. "The woman was hostile through and through!"

"Yes, because today she had finally talked to me."

"Ah, yes. To tell you in no limited terms how evil you were to pluck the flowers off their stems and offer the same to her."

"Small progress is still progress. Kindly, do not misunderstand Miss Juvia. She only expressed her worry of the flowers' well-being rather than their aesthetic purposes."

Lyon's brows met in the middle to his response and his eyes narrowed in observation. On the outset it appeared that Gray and Juvia was the last people to think when the words 'match made in heaven' came to mind. They were just too different, too opposite from one another, like mismatched pieces of a hundred-piece puzzle. To Lyon's surprise, however, Gray seemed to have a rather deep understanding of the young woman.

"Isn't the eldest a bit more pleasant and agreeable?"

"Perhaps." He answered with a tone that was both uninterested and dismissing, as Gray had found his journal and began writing on it.

"Then what are we doing pining after one who could care less about your existence?"

"I admit that Ms. Juvia Lockser isn't making this at all easy. But may I remind you that nothing of value often is."

There was a sudden silence cut only by Ultear's remarks.

"I could not believe my ears for a moment." A short chuckle tumbled out of Ultear's lips, clearly finding the exchange more amusing than her book or her husband's soft locks.

"I cannot understand where her loathing of you is coming from. Whatever have you done to earn her deep-rooted ire?"

Gray pondered for a moment, putting his pen down and debating whether to tell the couple his truth. As he wanted Juvia not to be unreasonably misunderstood, he opted to recount the night he and Juvia first met. His goal was realized and doubts of Juvia's upbringing were dispelled. He did not anticipate, however, that his beloved cousin and her husband would quickly jump on the young lady's side and abandoned his.

"If you have done the same to me, I would have castrated you right there and then," exclaimed Ultear, who was now seeing her cousin more of an evil than the angel she thought of him to be. "However, as she holds you no accountable, why do you afford this lady much consequence?"

"Why indeed."

Gray had not the answer himself but to find such reason, or any of it, was the cause of this journey.

"Well, I shall not keep you." He addressed the couple without satisfying their curiosity. "I must retire for the night. Tomorrow is a new day." said he, and kept his journal close to him as he went away.

Gray left his behavior to scrutiny of the couple in the room; both pairs of curious eyes followed his retreating back until he disappeared behind the archway.

"I pity our boy, my love. The young lady could not spare him even a bit of interest."

"Do you feel she cannot accept him?"

"Her hostility is something I have never seen even from our business competitors."

There was a stretch of silence, filled only by the mellow crackles from the fireplace. Lyon played with his wife's fingers intertwined with his and let the woman be alone with her thoughts. If Juvia Lockser genuinely harbored no interest towards her beloved cousin, then her aunt's misgivings were not too unfounded. Ultear ought to convince him to end his pertinacity and save his beloved cousin from the awful pain of rejection.

"We must retreat to our chambers then, my love. I will have to rise early to accompany our persistent boy."

Lyon slid off his wife's lap and gently pulled her beloved to her feet, after him. He held on to the warmth of their hands clasped together all the way to their assigned room.

"But I have to say, my love." Lyon led his wife through the corridors of the mansion. "Despite her contentiousness, I can find the charm in the young Juvia Lockser."

The confession had piqued the curiosity of his wife, who was coming down to the resolve of joining her aunt's cause and put a stop on the doomed courtship. Her interest was tickled and mind clouded. For what woman would willingly refuse the opportunity to amass a fortune even she would have envied.

"She is like you in some regard."

"And in what regard would that be?"

Juvia Lockser must have been foolish, very much unlike Ultear. She could not refuse if one day she was to inherit the Fullbuster manor.

"You both would give any gentleman a run for their fortune."

Her husband's smile was equally warm and teasing. For Ultear knew quite well and she could vividly remember, how much suffering she put her now husband through in their own engagement. So that night she deferred her plans on allying with her beloved aunt, no matter how unseemly that was. She wanted to meet the lady and form her own opinion of her. If what her husband said was any true, then Gray's courtship may not be as hopeless as she thought, after all.

tags: @greenapplegrass @shampooneko @trizfn @anaken101 @gruviaftw11 @juviasblog @heademptyonlygruvia @unvalley @jetblackrevival @lannyathewitch @groovyah @jujumanga

#gray x juvia #gruvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #be-dazzled #gruvia period au #gruvia fanfiction #period gruvia #jane austen gruvia

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scapegrace74-blog · 4 years

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Saorsa, Chapter 27

A/N Here is the next installment of Saorsa. Jamie finally acknowledges what we knew all along, and Claire takes a bath.

Rather than link to all previously posted chapters, I’ll just direct those of you wanting to catch up on your Saorsa-reading to my AO3 page, where the fic is posted in its entirety.

Thank you to each of you liking and reblogging! It does my little fanfic writer’s heart good.

Shearing sheep hadn’t changed much in two hundred years, Jamie thought as he hefted another startled ewe from the shearing pen and pinned her to the ground with a well-placed knee. Murtagh mentioned that some of the larger farms used a mechanical trimmer, but they both preferred the time-honoured method of metal shears, sharp as daggers. Today was their third day. Jamie’s shoulders and arms were throbbing from the constant effort, but they were almost done.

“Tis good fortune we’re having a bonnie spring,” Murtagh commented as they broke for a drink of fresh water from the well.

“Aye. I need tae be on the road wi’in the week, if I’m tae be back a’fore the bairn arrives.”

“I’m surprised the mistress is allowin’ ye tae go at all, wi’ the way she fusses o’er ye like a wee whelp.”

Jamie’s mouth opened and closed, trying to find words to defend his masculine honour against the truth in the old man’s claim. He caught the twitch of Murtagh’s lips through his heavy beard. He cuffed him on the shoulder, laughing at himself.

“She’s lining ‘er nest, ye ken. I reckon she needs me tae practice upon, a’fore the we’un gets here,” he quipped.

“Oh, aye. I’m sure tha’s it.” Murtagh’s sarcasm was so thick, you could serve it on toast.

Jamie groaned as he lowered himself into the armchair in their bedchamber, trying to reach down to untie his laces and failing miserably.

“Here, let me,” Claire offered, before realizing she couldn’t bend over the growing bulk of her belly.

“We’re a fine pair. I’m too lame and ye’re too big a’bout the middle.”

“Speak for yourself,” his wife retorted as she carefully lowered herself to the floor. She gently eased off each boot, then proceeded to unbutton and draw his trews down as well. He sighed and cupped her jaw as she began to gently knead the bunched muscles of his thighs.

“Careful, Sassenach. Ye wouldna want tae start somethin’ ne’er of us is in fit condition tae finish,” he warned, feeling himself stir despite his bone-deep exhaustion.

“Wouldn’t I?” Warm eyes gleamed up at him. And then, more gently, “Lean back.”

Unsure what was being asked of him, he complied by letting his back fall against the cushions, his long legs stretched on either side of where Claire knelt on the floor. Having never accustomed himself to the modern notion of underclothing, he was naked from the waist down and hardening quickly below the flimsy hem of his linen top.

Leaning forward so that her moist breath seeped between the buttons of his shirt and over the fine hairs of his belly, Claire began to run her hands languorously up and down his legs, reaching higher with each pass.

“Sassenach,” he warned, and then more urgently, “Claire.”

“Shhhh,” she whispered, before her fingertips brushed against his baws.

“Christ!”

“I’ve never done this before,” she murmured, as though speaking to herself. “Tell me if… well… if it doesn’t feel good.”

And before he could wonder what she meant, she was lifting his shirt, exposing his very emphatic endorsement of whatever she was planning. A tentative moist swipe against the head, where it lay aching against his quivering belly, and then a sensation unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It was the humid welcome of her sex combined with the nimble manipulation of her fine-boned hand, and yet so much more than the sum of those parts. A lightning bolt of sensation shot up his spine, lighting the back of his eyeballs with colourful explosions. A senseless groan burst from his lungs.

Between the exertions of shearing and the elaborate logistics of making love to a woman almost eight months with child, it had been nearly a week since he’d last lain with his wife. A lifetime, in the bountiful feast that marked their newborn marriage. He wasn’t certain it would have made much difference, though. Anything that felt this absurdly good was certain to be over soon, lest it kill him with pleasure.

As it was, it was mere minutes after first feeling her mouth around him before he knew the end was nigh.

“A dhia. Sassenach. Mo nighean donn. Christ, please, ye must…”

Whatever pleas he was trying to utter were lost to the onrush of his release, racing from his body with the force of a gale, whipping around to slam his head backwards as he groaned in blissful agony.

When he was next able to focus, Claire was carefully unbuttoning his shirt. She extended her hands so that he could help her to her feet. He rose as well, naked and blushing to the tips of his ears. Whatever had just happened, he felt compelled to apologize, if only he could do so without alluding to the actual event.

“Sassenach…” he began.

“Let’s get you washed up, shall we? It’s been a long day.”

He was still new to the art of reading his wife’s unspoken wishes, but this one was plain enough. She did not want to discuss or debate the propriety of what they’d just done, probably a bit shy herself. They would leave it here in the murky shadows of their bedchamber, where it could visit with the other nameless wonders they’d released inside its walls. He followed her docilely from the room.

One modern amenity Jamie had absolutely no qualms about embracing was indoor plumbing, and the associated boon of having a bath whenever a bath was needed or desired. Claire lit thick-trunked tapers in the washroom, formerly a servant’s room adjacent to the laird’s quarters. Bent over the billows of steam that rose from the gushing copper pipes, she reminded him of a painting of a water nymph he’d seen as a boy, all translucent skin and bonnie curls.

He gingerly lifted his legs over the high-backed tub and grimaced as the water seared his skin.

“Too hot?”

“Nah. Jus’ right.” He extended his hand gallantly, as though assisting a lady from her carriage. “Join me?” he offered, before adding, “If ye dinna think it immoral.”

Something about the scene struck them both as a trifle ridiculous, and they snickered.

Claire slipped her nightgown over her shoulders, letting it puddle around her feet, before carefully stepping into the water, holding onto Jamie for balance.

“Now what?” she challenged, eyebrow raised.

“Now I hold onto ye. Ye and the little one.” They sunk together into the steaming water.

She found a resting spot between his legs, forehead tucked under his jaw. Jamie amused himself by scoping up palmfuls of water and letting them loose to roam across the hills and valleys of her torso. Time slowed, as did the vigilant beating of his heart. The water cooled and one by one the tapers guttered, and still they did not move. It was in those peaceful moments, with nothing but the silky stroke of water, the honey whiff of candle wax and the quiet stirrings of a new life beneath the taut skin of her belly, that he realized he loved her. Not in the demure, fitting way that a man was meant to love his wife. But in a pivotal, essential way that was as integral to him as breathing and as endless as the tides.

“Ye’ll watch o’er her? Make certain she is no’ rebuildin’ the castle nor tilling the fields by hand, or whate’er stubborn notion settles in her hard heid?”

Murtagh had heard this request, or others very similar, every day for the past fortnight. It spoke to his forbearance that he produced his standard response without a flicker of exasperation.

“Aye, lad. I canna promise ye she willna be stubborn, but I’ll see her safe.”

It was the best he could hope for, and the primary reason Murtagh was staying behind at Lallybroch rather than accompanying Jamie on his journey to Galashiels, much to Claire’s vocal displeasure. She only acquiesced when it was agreed that Rupert would join him as far as Edinburgh, ostensibly to visit relatives. Jamie had an opinion on the true reason for Rupert’s sudden interest in leaving the Highlands for the first time, but he wouldn’t be sharing it with Murtagh.

Fourteen bales of wool were loaded carefully into the estate’s hay wagon. Weighing over a tonne, it would take both Clydesdale plow horses to drag the load over two hundred miles to Galashiels, near the border with England. Rupert would drive the wagon while Jamie rode his favourite horse, Donas.

The smoothest, most direct route southward was available to them only after nightfall, when motorized traffic was forbidden on the roadways on account of the blackout. That meant they’d do most of their travelling by night, which posed its own challenges. In addition to a small bag of provisions and spare clothing, Jamie was also armed with a dirk and a pistol, though he longed for the familiar heft of his broad sword.

The whole trip should take two fortnights, a little less than a month. The plan was to leave immediately after Easter, so he could be home by late April with time to spare before the Duke of Sandringham’s visit and Claire’s confinement.

In the early morning hours the day before his departure, Jamie crept out of the castle while everyone was still abed and walked up the hill to his parents’ graves. He was pleased to note that the exertion no longer winded him; that he had regained his previous strength. He owed that to Claire; that and so much more. She had given him back his freedom when he thought he was trapped in amber. Offered him a place to stand when every other foothold was lost. She was his redemption. Saorsa.

He knelt beside the graves, now cleaned of moss with bluebells sprouting between the stones. Resting his forehead against the cool stone, he began to pray. That Claire might be safe. That the bairn be healthy. That his voyage be swift and without peril. And selfishly, that he be the kind of man his parents would be proud of in this strange new world.

#my writing #outlander

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pinkvhs · 4 years

Text

this has been a long time coming

ive detached from jack / dont watch jack anymore. i’ve poured so much into this story that involved the egos that i just....can’t let it go. so, im making ocs for the story instead.

inspired by @lilakennedy . . . here is some info about my boys

Marvin the Magnificent➜ Marvin Lir MacKenna

age: 27- from the 1920s

Brown wavy hair that goes to past his ears a bit

Blue eyes

Height: 5′7″

irish & welsh ( mother from wales father from ireland )

an illusionist / performer

Stage performance & regular attitude are a complete 180. Very bold on stage and confident but once he is off he is more reserved and calm

Best friends with Daniel

Knew Daniel for years, since they were around 10 years old. Extremely close bond.

Doesn’t believe in spirits but is very cautious / superstitious

Gets powers whenever he and Daniel accidentally summon Phonus at Daniel’s Birthday/Halloween party. When it was just the two of them alone.

He tries to attack Phonus since the monster killed Daniel

but once he made contact with the demon, he was immediately teleported into our timeline. He took some of Phonus’s powers as a result

He ends up getting burn marks on his arms/hands and face due to trying to physically fight Phonus when he was furious

He has powers now, some he doesn’t know he can do yet. But his powers are: ✪= Not used often. ✦= strongest. ✧=weakest

✦ Empathic Element Manipulation ✦✪Fire Manipulation, ✦✪Necromancy, ✦Telekinesis,✦Kinetic Charging

✧✪Electricity Manipulation, ✦Magical Wall Generation, ✦Teleportation, ✧Intangibility, ✧Healing Hands, ✦✪Naturakinetic Combat

Riley finds him and helps him on his feet to find a place to stay

The two of them become close friends eventually, it takes a long time for Marv to warm up to people in this strange new environment- still tortured by that night.

He blames himself for Daniels death every day.

With his new unknown powers, he tries to go back in time to stop all this from happening.

He opens up about his powers to Riley and the truth.

Riley is beyond amazed that powers and magic exist, he tries to help Marv with his powers.

He ends up needing to find a sort of job to stay at his home, so he tries the one thing he loved- entertaining people. With his magic, he dumbfounds audiences.

However, once things were just looking up, his fire magic (the strongest) goes wrong.

He ends up catching a stage set on fire, causing injuries to hundreds.

He panics. Riley tries to calm him down. But he can’t take it, he is convinced that he is destined to cause harm with these powers.

He vanishes to a place by the sea and isolates himself, causing people to believe he died in the fire accident.

He spends his time trying to prefect time travel and is consumed by isolation. though, he does attract wild life to him. they are very at ease with him

Refuses to use his fire magic

One day, he comes across Viktor’s body on the shore. He takes him in quickly to his small home that he protected in case Phonus ever finds him.

He revives Viktor to come to. The stranger is a total mess and he tries to heal the man, but Viktor grabs him on reflex. So the man patches himself up

The two live together for a few months as the injuries heal up

Viktor convinces him to visit Riley again, so he does.

He teleports there and leaves a note stating that he is alive. He can’t bring himself to see Riley face to face

In the end, he tries to fight off Phonus. He fails miserably

He returns to his home, having Riley there with him. He gives Riley his powers because he doesn’t want to die and these powers go back to Phonus.

He trusts Riley with his life

Once Riley is given the powers, he passes away.

When his body is all alone peacefully at rest in the home, without any magic to protect it, Phonus finds the body

But no magic

The demon still takes the body. Using it to wake him up again and look into his mind to find out where the powers have gone

He remains a soul bounded victim to Phonus and reunites with Daniel

Both under Phonus’s control

Chase Brody➜ Noah Oliver Dodge

age: 29 - from our timeline

messy brown hair thats dyed blonde at the tips of it

brown eyes

Height: 5′9″

American

Dropped out of university and works part time at a local electronics store

loves to break things and try to fix them up again and make it totally new!

has a passion for computers and likes to make his own computer

he also loves film and had dreams of making a film

a disaster cook but god help him he tries

Father of 2 girls

childish and fun loving

reckless at times

loves nature and going on walks / hikes

met his wife in high school (been together since they were 16)

they go to the same university, his wife studying to be a nurse

at 18 he accidentally gets her pregnant and her parents arent the happiest about it

they get married at 19

he becomes a stay at home dad and drops out to take care of their baby till she finishes nursing

they end up having another child once they get a small apartment together

his daughter is friends with Viktors daughter and thats how the two families meet

His wife actually works with Viktor and didn’t know at the time

his wife divorces him because, even though she does love him, she can’t keep working like this just to get by. she needs security and they dont have it.

he is allowed to see his kids still but at the time it was very painful for him

he lives alone in that apartment, often calling Viktor to talk and invite him over so he doesn’t do shit he regrets

he talks about how Viktor is so lucky to have such a wonderful life and wishes he could have that (since he doesn’t know the truth)

Viktor and Noah become very close and often have their kids over at each others houses

he hears news that Viktor is missing and becomes a mess. he is alone and doesnt know what to do.

he tries to make it known that he is missing online, making posts and videos as much as he can to get peoples attention

he visits the Valentin house hold and offers his wife any help thats needed, despite knowing all the turmoil they went though. he cares about the kids and doesn’t want them to worry.

Henrik Von Schneeplestein➜ Viktor Alexis Valentin

age: 32 -from our timeline

short grey hair

extremely pale blue eyes

pale, almost sickly skin

Height: 6′2″

German

Doctor that specializes in internal medicine (meaning he focuses on helping adults) but also is a surgeon

Father of 3 girls

loves to bake!

a hopeless romantic actually

he is very cold and standoff ish but once he loves you, he LOVES you

blunt to a fault still though

cares about people. more so than his own well being

extremely loyal

met his wife in university. he took an anatomy art class

his wife helped him improve his drawing skills and the two became close

he fell for her very hard

they get married and live in a house that they saved up for (with extra help from both of their parents)

once settled, they have their children

his wife is a biology teacher with a minor in art teaching!

he takes family trips whenever he can to the beach! his kids love the ocean!

he comes home one day to find his wife cheated on him- he suspected this for a while now. he found a shirt underneath the bed, thinking it was just a gift for later down the road for christmas or something. he went to fix it when a piece of paper fell out of the pocket. her phone number

he never gets mad at her. he blames himself

he thinks he isnt perfect enough

he becomes extremely distant and cold, more than before. never knowing when to bring it up

the two of them grow apart but still live together

they make sure not to worry their children though, they dont want them to think its their fault.

he never brings up this information to Noah because he doesn’t want him to worry.

very envious of Noah though and wish he would smack him. Noah has a wife that loves him and he wishes that Noah could wake up and see that and fix his actions.

he does break down one night and tell Noah everything that happened

one day at the office, a man came in with a horrible neck injury.

he typically sees people who just need some medication or the worst injury being a bite from a dog, but even that wasn’t bad.

he rushes to take care of the stranger. once they were alone for a brief second, he gets trapped inside.

Phonus used Daniels body in order to get to the Doctor. He attacks and possesses Viktor.

Once Phonus is done using Viktor, he takes him to a cliff near the sea

He is snaps his neck and lets the body fall into the ocean.

Eventually, he washes up to shore where Marvin is

he stays with marvin for months while he heals up himself, he refuses to get any magic help

once he decides to leave marvin has a hard time letting go, he is worried viktor will fall victim to phonus again

he leaves to go home but once he reaches the steps, phonus finds him again.

Jackieboy Man➜ Riley Lee Young

age: 23 - from our timeline

very curly blonde hair

green eyes

skin that tans pretty easily

the most muscular out of the lads but isnt extremely buff

Height: 5′6″

American

Lives alone in a small apartment

a college student, unsure what to major in but possibly wants to be a vet

LOVES animals!

a vegetarian !

a pretty good cook actually!

has a heart of gold and sees the best in most people, though he isn’t stupid. he knows there are terrible people in the world that can’t change and deserve punches to the face

he watches pets and volunteers at animal shelters!

he also babysits Viktors kids to get some money

was kicked out of his home. Viktor found out about it and bought him a small apartment to live in. (he would of offered Riley to stay but he has issues at home that he doesn’t want to subject Riley to on the daily)

he is the girls big brother figure and he loves to pay pretend with them !

He meets Marvin and they eventually become friends

he helps Marvin gain back confidence, giving him a place to stay, and helps him actually feel . . at home in this timeline

when he finds out the truth that marvin is from the 1920s and has powers he cannot get over how cool it is! calling him a super hero and showing him comics that he has. he helps marvin try to get a better hold on the powers

he was around whenever the fire accident with marvins powers happen, he tries to calm marvin down but ends up alone. left to wonder what happened to his friend.

When he has to start university up again he has to let the Valentin family know that he can’t be around as much as before but will try to help out if needed

Viktor’s wife ends up calling Riley one day and begs him to come to the house as soon as he can for Viktor has been missing for days now

Riley puts up posters and gets the news out that Viktor is missing as much as he can around the city.

He still goes to university but spends a lot of time in the Valentin household. Visiting on holidays and the girls birthdays. Having no news of Viktor.

he later on gains marvins powers, his mainly being electricity and strength.

he is set on finding phonus and fixing things for marvins sake

Jameson Jackson➜ Daniel Edmund Thomas

age: 27 - from the 1920s

slicked short black hair

brown eyes

Height: 5′7″

British

a charming, bold, charismatic man

an actor and musician, exceptionally good on piano

very witty and clever

lives a rather extravagant life

very close friends with Marvin, trusts him with his life

on his 27th birthday on Halloween, he throws a party

he loves to mess around with guests and asks Marvin if they can have a a seance

they try it to entertain the guests, but nothing happens (to marvins relief)

the party continues on till its just marvin and him by the end of the night

they try again to contact from the beyond

they succeed

he comes face to face with the demon. an invisible hand causing him to kill himself. making Marvin watch

he becomes Antiphonus’s personal toy

his mind becomes warped and he loses all sense of who he used to be

he tries to fight back, but once he does, his tongue is cut out of his mouth. never to be able to voice for help again

his body now bound to Phonus becomes a personal pin cushion. being cut open and inspected to see how far humans have come with healing themselves. to see how far a human body can handle things

being trapped with phonus he starts to believe that Marvin caused his death. he believes everything phonus tells him and is set on killing marvin

he becomes very aware of realities all thanks to Phonus.

Antisepticeye➜ Antiphonus

age: unknown.

an immortal being / demon

seems to have been around for centuries

first appears invisible, then a shadow figure, to a pitch black faceless figure that takes on more of a human shape - till finally, he appears to look like Daniel

he is fascinated with humans, very curious and destructive

he takes Daniel in as a host. he rests inside of Daniel’s body till he is strong enough to mimic the physical outer appearance of him

when he possesses people becomes stronger. he doesnt have full control right away, it takes him a bit of time to warm up once again to how powerful he used to be.

he can see into his victims mind when possessing them, he knows all what Daniel knows / remembers. Daniels fame, fears, friendship. family, love- he knows it all.

He uses this to his advantage to keep Daniel around without fighting him back- using Marvin against him

he is after the powers that he accidentally gave to Marvin on impact

he travels to the dimensions he has access to and time lines in hopes to find Marvin, taking Daniel along with no choice

he lands in our dimension and timeline to sense that his powers are close by

He ends up sabotaging Marvin’s performance with fire magic in order to kill him or capture him but it fails- he looses sight of him

While he is searching through the streets, he over hears talk about the human body. He comes across Viktors practice building and opens the door a crack. He can sense so many souls and blood in that building and gets vastly curious. He notices people injured and ill, waiting for care. He hatches an idea.

He returns to Daniel and possesses his body. He takes Daniel to an alley way close to the building, away from the eyes of others. He grabs the sharpest thing he can find and plunges it deep into the side of his neck and carves it out slowly and rips it out.

He quickly makes Daniel reach the building and barges in, causing everyone to look on in horror. The nurses there rush to his aid as Phonus makes Daniel gasp and hold his neck to try to stop the bleeding. Nurses page for Viktor asap as they get Daniel to a stretcher and room fast. Viktor arrives shortly after and is fast to help Daniel. Daniel just looks at Viktor and tries to nod.

Once the nurses leave for a brief moment and its just him and Viktor, Phonus makes the door lock them inside.

Viktor goes to inject him with medication but Daniel reaches out and grabs Viktors arm. He say to Daniel that he knows needles are scary but you need this now, let go please. Daniel sits up and twists Viktors arm, causing Viktor to wince in pain while looking shocked.

He grabs Daniels hand with his free one and tries to pry it away, but can't. Daniel kicks him away, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. He gets up from the bed. The lights inside the room begin to flicker faster and faster. Electronics in the room flickering on and off, radios and tv consumed with fast stations, fluctuating volumes, and static. Viktor gets to his feet and hears all this noise and sees this horror in front of him.

Phonus leaves Daniels body, causing Daniel's wound to disappear. Phonus stands in front of him.

He gets inside of Viktors mind to find all that he can about the human body and the amount of pain that it can handle.

He sees in Viktors mind a young man with curly blonde hair. And for a brief moment inside of Viktors mind, he sees Marvin

in the end he ends up taking Marvin captive but finds that the powers are gone.

he keeps marvin around because he sees too, that he gave that blonde boy his powers

so he is on the hunt for Riley

#.txt #smoke & mirrors #not yt related #long post #my ocs #THIS ISNT EVERY SINGLE DETAIL BUT GOD HELP ME THIS WAS HARD #I HAD TO HOLD BACK A L O T #BUT I NEEDED.....SOME OF THE IDEAS IN THERE LSDJFDAS

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senseless-septic-shambles · 6 years

Text

Miles to Go Before I Sleep - Chapter One

(Banner by the amazing @dinadinu )

Summary: Jackieboy Man has been missing for so long even he is losing hope of ever finding his way home. Henrik Schneeplestien is struggling to cope after the events that left Jack in a coma. Chase Brody is trying to piece his life together after it crumbled around him. Marvin is feeling separated from his family. Jameson Jackson is fighting his own demons. And Jack is sleeping through it all. Ev̡ęr͝ythi̸n͏g is go̡i͞ng̢ acc̕ord͏i̶ng ţo̕ ̡p͞la̡n͠.͞ ҉

Warnings: Implied torture

Beta Readers: @xtracheesy , @dinadinu and @a-septic-writer-of-art A/N: Alright lads here we go! It is on AO3, but given Tumblr’s latest hissy fit, the link will be in a master post or something accessible from my blog. I shall have to figure out the best way to get that to you! :) Also, a lot of you have probably read this chapter before, but it has been edited a fair bit since then!

Perhaps he had been cocky. Perhaps he had let his guard down. Perhaps someone had found his weakness. Whatever the case, Jackieboy Man found himself in a small cell, trapped. The cell was three paces along one wall, four along the other. Rectangular. A separate, much smaller room for relieving himself off one of the walls. He knew because there wasn’t much else to do but pace.

He tried to escape - of course he did. But somehow, his captors - masked men who were clearly working for a higher power - seemed to know his every weakness. They knew him far too well. Food was scarce, they kept him hungry - kept him desperate.

And then he started visiting, about two months after his capture. The monster in the night. The creature in the dark. The glitch in the system. He taunted Jackie, he laughed and glitched and told him about his friends. He reminded the former superhero that he was weak. That he was unable to protect his friends. That he had failed.

“Yơu̸ ́w̨e͜re͢ e҉asy ́tơ ̧ca̛p̧t͟ur̵è ̧-̧ ͡e͞asy̕ ͢to ̴remov͜e҉, F͡a͜͏r ́t̶̵o̕o̸҉͟ ͞e̡a͞s̸̕͘y̵̸,” the glitch would say, giggling. “And͜ ͘I̸ ͡k҉íĺl̡e̷d him͢. I ҉sli͘t̶ h̀is thr̨oat – ͠he̛ wa̷s͟ ̡we̴a͡k͡. ̸W͘e͠ak̷ j͢us̸t͢ like ͢you͜.”

He would leave, leave Jackie in a deadly silence, a silence filled with thoughts and images of the things the creature had done to his friends filling his mind. He had failed them. He should have been there. This was all his fault.

The physical torture didn’t start until about six months after his capture. Until then, the monster had been content to laugh, to gloat, to watch the guilt cover Jackie’s face as he realised that his friends had been hurt and it was all his fault. But then he got bored.

Jackie wasn’t allowed to sleep for days at a time, kept awake despite his exhaustion. Food was kept from him, even water withheld for a time. That was only the beginning.

Jackie was used to pain – it was part of his job description as a superhero, after all. But this glitch seemed to know just how to make the pain unbearable, to leave him weeping and weak after each visit.

He lost track of time not long after. The pain often caused him to black out, and he didn’t know for how long. The food came more sporadically as well and he wondered if maybe that was part of the torture – to disorient him, to make him lose track of what day it was.

Pain was the only constant here, and he was beginning to lose hope he would ever be free.

Then, one day, things changed.

Doors clanging and the sound of footsteps jerked Jackie from a fitful sleep. He pressed himself against the wall, alert and scared – scared that it would be the glitch, scared that it wouldn’t be. Life had gone on so long without change he wasn’t sure if he wanted it.

His door was pulled open and he shrank back, heart thumping and the cuts and burns, fresh or otherwise, throbbed painfully. But it wasn’t the glitch – instead, a body was flung into the room and the door slammed shut again.

Jackie stayed still for a long time, waiting. Waiting for the glitch to return, for the motionless figure on the ground to move. The figure was dressed in a white coat, green hair a startling colour in the dullness of his cell. And he seemed familiar.

When nothing happened for a long time, Jackie slowly moved. He pushed himself up, crouching low and in a fighting stance – his muscle memory unable to forget the years of training he had gone through despite being stuck here for so long. He dropped down beside the other man and examined him.

It was Henrik. The good doctor – his friend. He wasn’t sure what to think. On the one hand, he was no longer alone. He could get news of what was actually happening with his friends. His fading memories of a life before the pain were true.

But at the same time, his friend was here with him. His friend was stuck in this hell. And Jackie would rather he be stuck here for the rest of his life than have any of his friends go through even a few days of what he had.

He crouched down beside Henrik, rolling him over and checking his pulse. He was alive – but didn’t seem to be in good condition. His throat was bruised, his skin pale, his breaths shallow.

“Hen –” His voice was rough and caught in his throat – he had barely said anything for who knows how long. He had only been screaming. “Henrik?” he managed finally, the sound barely a whisper. The doctor shifted, muttering something in German under his breath. Jackie shook him gently.

He suddenly shot up, shouting loudly. “Nein! Lass mich allein!” Jackie scrambled back, the sudden movement sending a shaft of fear rushing through him. The two men sat pressed against opposite walls, staring at each other.

“Jackie?” Henrik asked after a moment of silence. “Is – is that you? Nein. It cannot be.”

“Hey, Henrik,” Jackie rasped, trying to force his lips into a smile. It was more challenging than he had anticipated – there wasn’t much to smile about here and he’d forgotten what it felt like.

“How are you alive?”

“Honestly, I – I don’t know,” Jackie admitted, looking down. “He doesn’t want me dead, I guess.”

Silence fell between them. Jackie wanted to ask questions, to ask if Jack was alright – if he was alive or if the glitch had actually killed him. If Chase and Stacy had sorted out their differences. If Marvin was any better at magic.

Tears were pricking his eyes – how much had he missed while stuck in this dark hole? Did his friends even remember him?

“Jackie?” Henrik asked, moving across the room. He sat down beside Jackie and laid a hand on the superhero’s shoulder. He flinched away, unused to gentle touches. “What has he done to you,” the doctor muttered.

“I – I’m sorry,” Jackie said.

“What for?” The question took Jackie by surprise – what for? For everything! It was all his fault. He had got his friends hurt. He was the reason Henrik was here. If he had been there to protect his friends. If he had fought against the glitch harder. If he had done something more. It was his fault.

“I – it’s my fault,” he said softly. “I should have been stronger, should have resisted him more! I should have done something.” And he was crying, tears running silently down his face.

“Of course it’s not your fault,” Henrik said. “He’s too powerful for even you to take on alone.” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair and rubbing his neck. “I still can’t believe you’re alive.”

“How – how long has it been?” Jackie asked softly, ignoring the first part of Henrik’s comment. Of course it was his fault. Hadn’t the glitch made that clear enough?

“Almost a year.”

A year. Almost a year of this darkness, of this pain, of this hell. How much longer could he last?

“What happened?” he asked, almost whispering the words. A lot could happen in a year – were all his friends still alive? Or had his weakness caused them pain as well?

“A... a lot,” Henrik said quietly. He ran a hand across his neck again and fell silent for a long moment. Jackie felt a moment of fear – was it really that bad?

“Chase… well… he and Stacy had a divorce. It – it was messy. He… well, I…” he trailed off, seeming hesitant to continue. Taking a breath, he finally spoke again. “I had to stitch up a hole in his head… Self - self-inflicted.”

Jackie lowered his eyes. He should have been there for his friend. He should have been there to support him, to help him through his time of need.

“Is he okay?” he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

“Not really. But he’s alive.”

The silence fell again, and Jackie tried to word the question he had. Or bring up the courage to ask it.

“A – and… and Jack?” he said quietly. “He said he had…” he trailed off, not wanting to put into words what that monster had told him.

Henrik muttered under his breath in his mother language.

“That monster tried. Not long you vanished. We were all preoccupied, no one noticed what was happening until it was too late. He… nearly died.” The doctor closed his eyes, as if remembering what had happened. “I managed to save him but… that monster didn’t give up. And this time I – I…” he trailed off, looking down at his hands. Jackie noticed suddenly that they were shaking.

Had something happened to Jack? He should have been there. He should have been there to protect his friend, to keep him from harm. That was his job and he had failed it. He had failed.

“I – is he alright?” he asked quietly.

“I… I don’t know,” Henrik said, as if forcing the words out. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t save him… He was going to die and all I could do was put him into a medical coma. I don’t… I don’t know if it worked. Or if he’ll ever wake up. I – I should have done more!”

Silence fell again. Jackie wasn’t sure how to answer – obviously it wasn’t Henrik’s fault. It was Jackie’s – if he had been there… If he had done something more…

“What now?” Henrik asked. The words pulled Jackie back to reality, to the hard stones under him, to the pain still piercing through him. He closed his eyes, a shudder running through him. It would only be a matter of time before the glitch returned.

“We survive,” he said quietly.

“No,” Henrik said after a pause. “We escape.”

Jackie glanced up at him, shaking his head. He had thought like that, once. He had been cocky and brave, throwing himself at whatever the glitch sent his way, so sure that he would get out.

But a year had passed. Why would they have more of a chance now?

“He’s too powerful,” he said quietly. “We can’t escape. I’m sorry, Henrik. I should have done more. But you’re stuck here with me now.”

Henrik looked over at him, a deep sadness in his eyes. Jackie couldn’t meet his gaze – he looked far too similar to the glitch.

“Jackie,” he said gently. “We will get out. I promise, with two of us here we have more of a chance. We won’t be here for long.”

Jackie didn’t answer, just stared at the floor. He didn’t allow himself to hope, not here. Not after what he had been through. But maybe they could get out. Or at least survive for just a little longer.

~*~

Eight months. Eight months of pain from their captor. (Anti, Henrik said, was his real name. But names had power and to give him one seemed to give him more. So they simply called him ‘the glitch’.) Eight months and Jackie could tell Henrik had almost lost hope. They sat together in one of the few moments the glitch gave them when he wasn’t tormenting the other. Back to back, pressed up against each other, wanting the security of the other’s presence.

They were quiet, which wasn’t unusual. Talking wasn’t always needed, they shared the same pain, they understood each other without needing words. Eight months of being trapped in a cell brought you closer than you ever thought you could be.

“What are we going to do?” Jackie asked softly. He often asked that, wanting to hear Henrik’s optimism. Wanting to think that maybe there was a chance for hope. But after eight months, Henrik’s optimism was lacking.

“I don’t know,” he said softly, for the first time – usually he could think of some kind of plan. “I – I don’t know.”

The words felt like a punch to Jackie’s gut. Henrik always had a plan, he was always the one giving Jackie hope, if only a little. To hear him so… broken hurt Jackie more than anything the glitch could do to him.

“I think he’s distracted,” he said, after a long silence. “He’s planning something… either with us or with the community. I – I don’t know what but last time he was this distracted you showed up.”

Henrik muttered a curse.

“We have to stop him before he can get anyone else,” he said. Jackie agreed – the thought of another of his friends sharing this hellhole with him terrified him.

“But what can we do?” he asked. “How can we stop him?”

“We escape,” Henrik said finally. “If he’s distracted we can come up with a plan. We can slip past him while he’s focused on the community. We can do something.”

“Do you have a plan?” Jackie asked, shifting to glance over his shoulder. Henrik shrugged.

“Not yet…” he said slowly, which to Jackie said that he was coming up with a plan. He settled back down, leaning his aching body against his friend and closing his eyes.

“We’ll do it, Jackie,” the doctor said quietly. Jackie didn’t answer, his body overcome by exhaustion. At least Henrik was sounding more hopeful. Maybe they would be able to escape.

Their plan was put in place the next day. Using the long ago shattered frames of his glasses, Henrik had fashioned a lockpick. They hadn’t been able to use it, for fear of the glitch noticing, but with him distracted there was a chance. And, as Henrik had put it “What do we have to lose?” It was a last ditch effort, a final attempt for freedom. If it didn’t work, there was no hope.

Fear and nervousness curled in Jackie’s chest as he watched Henrik slowly jiggle the lock. He sucked in a breath as the lock clicked and Henrik slowly pushed the door open. But he refused to get too excited – he had escaped from his cell before. The glitch always returned him.

They stepped out together, watching each other’s backs. Slowly, they made their way through the damp halls of their prison, searching for a way out. Jackie’s heart was beating so fast – what if they did it? What if they did escape?

He could go home.

They rounded a corner and saw the stairs, rising up – high into freedom. The two men exchanged a look and began to make their way up, slowly, nervously, both fighting back the urge to break into a run.

Jackie’s leg was aching, it still wasn’t healed from when the glitch had broken it about a week ago. He was beginning to breathe quickly, only after a few steps. Once he could have bounded up those stairs without even thinking about it – now they seemed endless.

They reached the top of the steps and found themselves in another long hall – but this time Jackie could see light at the end of it. A soft breeze flew through the hall, causing goose bumps to pickle Jackie’s skin.

“The end,” Henrik whispered beside him and the urge to run grew stronger in Jackie. They moved as quickly as they dared, hurrying down the hall. Jackie was nervous, his gut twisting and turning as he tried to push back the hope that was rising in him. They were so close.

The exit came into view – it seemed to come out under what seemed like a bridge. Distant noises came from above – cars rushing past, people talking – normal life. Jackie had never made it this far.

Henrik suddenly broke into a run and Jackie scrambled to follow him. If they could just get out, just get to some form of civilization they would be safe. The glitch wouldn’t dare follow them there. They were so close.

Jackie’s heart was beating quickly as he ran, fighting the stabbing pain of his leg, fighting his exhaustion, pushing his body. Henrik burst out into the air and Jackie was about to follow him.

With a sharp flash of pain, his leg buckled and he tumbled to the ground with a cry. Henrik turned back and an alarm blared through the underground complex. With a sickening thud, a barred door slammed into place between them.

Jackie stumbled to his feet, lunging forward in a vain effort to escape. But it was too late.

“No!” he cried, gripping the bars. He was so close. So close to freedom. So close to escaping. Henrik grabbed his hand from the other side, his eyes roving around the door.

“We can open it,” he said, sounding panicked. Jackie nodded, searching for any sign of opening on his side. But a noise caught his attention, a noise that filled him with dread. A giggle, a high-pitched, insane giggle.

The glitch was coming for him.

They didn’t have time. The glitch would come for him, and then he would go after Henrik. They would be back to where they had begun and they would be punished.

“Go!” he said suddenly, trying not to think about what that meant.

“Nein! I am not leaving you, Jackie,” Henrik said, his face full of fear and alarm.

“You have to go! Please, Henrik!” Jackie said, speaking quickly. “I’ll hold him off. Get out of here! Please!” Tears were starting to fall again – he was so close. So close to freedom, so close to leaving behind the pain and despair. So close and yet he wasn’t going to escape. “Please.”

“I – I. No. No I’m not leaving you. Wir gehen zusammen. I can’t let you face him alone.”

“I can’t get out!” Jackie shouted. Maybe he could bear it a little better if he knew Henrik wasn’t trapped with him. “Just go!”

Henrik stepped back, eyes wide.

“Jackie –”

“GO!” the superhero shouted. With one last hesitation, Henrik turned and ran, stumbling over the uneven ground and vanishing from Jackie’s view. At the same time, something grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back, bringing tears to his eyes and a gasp of pain.

He was thrown to the ground, the glitch standing over him. Shakily, he tried to push himself up, tried to fight, but the glitch kicked at his broken leg and he screamed, pain flashing through his body.

He gritted his teeth, remembering the look of despair Henrik had given him as he ran off. Remembering all the taunts and accusations the glitch had thrown at him. Remembering how he had been too weak last time – he couldn’t this time. He had to buy Henrik sometime.

So, leaning heavily against the wall, he struggled to his feet. The glitch just smiled, moving in a way a human shouldn’t be able to.

“W̴h̛at ̛d̨o ̵y͞ou ́t͠h̸ink͘ wi̕ll ̀ḩa͝ppen ̶t́o̴ you̶r̢ ͘fri͘en̴d,” he said mockingly. “I͘’v҉e le͝f̧t h҉im̨ a ̸g̕i͟f̛t̡ – ̷a̡ ̨troj҉a̧n͟ h͟ors̶e̶.” That horrible giggle filled the room as the glitch spun his knife, flickering in front of Jackie’s gaze.

“You won’t win,” he panted. “They will defeat you.”

“W͟i̛l͜l̶ ̕the̶y?” the glitch said. “T̀ḩey̕’r̕e ̕weak and ̀bli͢n҉d! All̛ of҉ ͝th͜em. ̷And ͞the͞y wi̷l̀l҉ a͝l҉l̷ d̶ie.”

Jackie gritted his teeth and lunged, his fist in a ball. The glitch flickered, catching his hand. Jackie let out a scream of pain as his hand was bent backwards. He was forced to his knees, his vision flickering from the pain.

The glitch kicked him again and he let out a gasp of air – sure his ribs had been broken. Then a cold metal was touched to his neck and he looked up to see the glitch, crouching at his level, his knife at Jackie’s throat

“Y̶o͡u’r͞ę ͢ju̢st ̀my̧ t҉oy̴,” he giggled, and Jackie felt his blood run cold. Why did he ever think he could fight against this monster? Why did he ever try?

But Henrik had escaped. Henrik was free. Henrik didn’t have to go through the pain and horror of the last eight months. Henrik was free.

So he looked the glitch in the eye – not caring for the consequences.

“Never,” he hissed and spat.

The pain that came was expected. The glitch let out a hiss of anger and buried the knife into Jackie’s side. He slumped to the ground with a cry of pain, gripping the wound as pain shot through him. It wasn’t fatal – the glitch knew better than that. But it still hurt, blurred his vision, consumed his thoughts.

He could do nothing but curl in a ball as the glitch continued to rain blows on him, kicks landing all over his body and pain becoming his whole world once again.

But Henrik had escaped. Henrik was free. And Jackie could live at least a little longer with that knowledge.

Tag List (Let me know if you wanna be added!)

@watermelonsinmyattic @cute-anxious-kitten

#jacksepticeye #jse fanfiction #WritersOfJack #jackieboy man #henrik schneeplestein #antisepticeye #implied torture #whump #my fanfics #Miles to Go Before I Sleep

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bitchwhoreofastorm · 5 years

Text

dumb thing abt almalexias childhood. dont rebl0g

It never snowed in Mournhold, but winter had come just the same; the sun grew pale and the air was chill and crisp. Such it was that Almalexia dressed in Nordic wool that day, and attended sword practice wearing scratchy trousers and a long wool tunic, both borrowed from her mother. The clothes would be warm enough for any Nord– indeed, the Nords mulled about shirtless and complained about the heat even in the coldest months– but for an elf of thirteen it was hardly adequate to keep out the chill, and she arrived at the barracks shivering. The Shouts needed only take one look at her before they pounced on her, and within ten minutes she’d been outfitted with a musty fur half-cloak and ugly steel boots that reached up to her knees.

Even the hardest Nord hearts found it difficult to be cruel to Almalexia. Chimer didn’t readily reproduce, and the occupation had done little to inspire hope in their kind, so elfish children were rare; in Mournhold Palace Almalexia was without peers her age, Nord or Chimer, so she sought companionship in the barracks, and played among her guards. Many of them fancied themselves mentors or elder siblings to the wayward girl, and took it upon themselves to teach her swordplay and the arts of war. Such was their routine: in between patrols, training, and quashing would-be rebellions and civil disobediences, the Nords would use their breaks to teach their adopted student how to wield a sword or play cards. Almalexia herself was a quick learner (if not annoyingly proud and sensitive, at times, but so were all royal children), and liable to spill the most interesting high-court gossip between sessions, so few were able to complain about the burden of her presence. The impromptu arrangement was largely considered a good one.

The Shout who volunteered to play teacher that day was Heigl, Almalexia’s favorite guard, a woman about seven years her senior, who’d joined the force at sixteen and thus known Almalexia since the princess was eight. Another Shout, an older lad named Hjaland whose affinity for magic made him more comfortable among the denizens of Morrowind than his own Skyrimisk kin, tagged along in their training, no doubt drawn by the prospect of seeing whatever elven magic Almalexia had returned from Ald Sotha with. The three of them set up in the training yard behind the barracks, sheltered from the wind by the high purple walls of Mournhold, and with Almalexia standing firm before a mannequin with her legs spread and an ebony sword in both hands, the lesson began.

For the first while they reviewed different techniques, with Heigl correcting and praising Almalexia in turn, each criticism gentle and sandwiched between compliments: “Your stance is just perfect, but let’s be mindful of your arms, eh?” Hjaland was less familiar to the girl and lacked tact, and his criticism (“An elf like you is a bit slight for a move like that, try holding the sword lower”) was met with irritation and defensiveness. Almalexia, to her credit, did a great job of reigning back her sharp temper, and attempted to take each correction in stride– within half an hour she’d indeed learned to hold her arms lower and her sword closer, even when idle, something she was usually slack on.

But nothing good lasts, and eventually Almalexia seemed to stop listening to any guidance at all, and her arms, normally too far away from her body, slumped and drew instead too close, causing her stance to go amiss.

“No!” scolded Hjaland, tapping her elbow with the tip of his own wooden training-sword. “Now your arms are too far down. Lift ‘em up, little elf!”

But Heigl, ever-observant, stopped and lowered her sword. “Hey, Lexie,” she said softly, “Is something the matter?”

“I’m just–” Almalexia had raised her arms when Hjaland tapped them, but now her elbows fell back to her side, “I’m just cold. It’s cold out here.” And the Nords saw that the girl was indeed shivering.

The Nords exchanged a glance; Heigl walked over to Almalexia, and stroked back her long hair, which the girl wore loose and falling about her shoulders. “Well, let’s go inside, then, little one. It’ll be much warmer in the hall, where the hearth is burning.”

So the three returned to the barracks; what it had been before the Nords came Almalexia didn’t know, for it was an unusual long rectangular building, with several long low benches and tables lined up around the western side, while the eastern side (the side that opened up onto the training-yard) remained bare, leaving adequate space for a muster. There was no real hearth, as Chimeri buildings rarely had them, but a fire-pit stood at each end, and beds of smouldering coals kept the interior pleasant and toasty. Though it was noon, the feeble winter sun had been hardly able to puncture a haze of ash drifting in from the North. The trio breathed sighs of relief as they crossed the threshold into the warm hall.

Just as they were setting up in the middle area, the western door swung open, and in marched a large and formidable figure. Almalexia, who’d been struggling to help move a dummy larger than she, failed to notice the intrusion, until her companions fell to their knees with a chorus: “Thuri!”

“Stand, men, stand!” boomed a familiar voice, preternaturally loud, causing the stones to quiver. “I’m looking for little Almalexia. Hath you seen her?”

Almalexia fumbled with the dummy, then dropped it entirely. Then, leaving the dummy, she stepped to the side, unthinkingly holding her sword in battle-stance before her. “I’m here, Jarl!”

The Jarl of Mournhold was a giant of a man– the son of one of Ysgramor’s companions, it was said, with Atmoran blood coursing strong in his veins. If he weren’t so intimidating one might consider him jolly. When he beheld Almalexia he burst into laughter, booming laughter that caused the support pillars to wriggle in their places.

“Why!” he exclaimed, “It’s you, little elf! But look at you, all dressed up like a Nord, and a Nord lad at that! Why, for a moment I mistook you for my boy, just as he was when he were getting ready to leave. Look at you! We’ll make a Nord of you yet, I say.”

Almalexia, embarrassed, lowered her sword and bowed deeply.

“Not quite a Nord yet, my Jarl” said Hjaland, standing from his own bow. “The weather outside was too cool for her, even with Balring’s old cloak, we had to come in to finish our training.”

“But she’s doing wonderfully,” interjected Heigl, “And she’s only a girl, even a Nord her age would be chilled, yet she didn’t complain once.”

“Is this true?” asked the Jarl, turning to Almalexia– when she peeked up she saw that he bore a grin.

“Yes,” Almalexia said, straightening up to her full height, “I don’t mind the cold so much, it just made it difficult to hold my sword out.”

“But she held it out!” said Heigl.

“So I see!” said the Jarl, his voice full and warm, like he was about to laugh again. “And have my Shouts been teaching you well?”

“Yes, thuri!” Almalexia said. “I’ve learned lots about swords, and swordcraft, and fighting. Everyone says I’m good,” she added, standing a little taller, “When I was at Ald Sotha, none my age could best me, magic used or no.”

The Jarl nodded, considering this. “Well,” he said, “In this case, I believe we have a score to settle, you and I.”

“My Jarl?”

“When you were a wee girl, you challenged me for my throne, and I said, aye, you may.” A few other Shouts had gathered around, watching the scene curiously– the Jarl’s voice was loud and it was difficult not to pay attention to him. The Jarl continued his story, beaming, “Yet before I so much as drew my sword you, relentless, used your Voice! Aye, you shrieked at me, little devil, and I was so surprised that I fell backwards! As if that were a real thu’um! And so it was that little Almalexia won the Throne of Mournhold, and became the Demon of the East.”

The surrounding Shouts laughed– most had heard this anecdote before.

Almalexia blushed deeply. “My Jarl, I–”

“Nay! I am not the Jarl, for you stole my Throne, little one. But now,” and the Jarl drew his sword from the hilt at his side, “I would like to challenge you back. Jarl Almalexia, I challenge you for the Throne of Mournhold!”

Now the Shouts were laughing, for the Jarl had fallen to one knee, and his expression was gravely serious. Almalexia, her face as red as her hair, turned to look at Heigl for guidance; Heigl, biting back a grin, nodded enthusiastically.

“I…” Almalexia, flustered, turned back to the Jarl. “I agree?”

“Excellent!” The Jarl, like a giant erupting from the earth, sprung back to his feet and raised his sword to battle-stance. “Let us begin!”

By now they’d earned the attention of most of the barracks, and poor Almalexia was so embarrassed she barely remembered how to hold her weapon. Deep down a part of her knew the Jarl would never harm her, and indeed, the Jarl began the 'duel’ with a slow and gentle sweep towards her side, which long training allowed her to parry by instinct. This was followed by a few equally gentle swipes, each of which Almalexia knocked aside without effort, and with each block the Shouts cheered, and the girl regained her confidence. Encouraged, she lashed out with a few strikes of her own, and the Jarl easily blocked each one, but let them come close to landing, to raise her spirits.

The sparring continued, and Almalexia’s confidence grew, and she forgot her embarrassment at being watched, and set about trying to hit the Jarl in earnest. He managed to block every blow she struck, of course, and threw a few at her to keep her on her toes, but the challenge seemed to inspire her, and she set into him with growing enthusiasm. Her assault was inspired enough that he was forced to take a few steps back, and this only encouraged her. When he knocked her sword to the right, shoving aside her thrust, she darted to the side and turned, moving for the opening he’d left--

“ZAN HAAL VIIK.”

And Almalexia stood, dumb, as her sword flew from her hand of its own accord and clattered across the floor.

“I see they haven’t covered that yet.” the Jarl was saying, amused. “A good fight, little elf–”

“That’s not fair!” Almalexia blurted out. She rushed over, diving at the ground to reclaim her sword, but once she’d picked it up Heigl grabbed her tightly by the arm. “That’s not fair,” she repeated, “You used your thu'um!”

“Eh, don’t be mad, little Lex!” The Jarl raised his hands apologetically. “Aye, I should’ve guessed you never encountered that trick.”

“It’s not fair!”

“Nay, but the gods en’t fair to your kind, are they?”

Almalexia’s face was burning again, and she wrenched her arm away from Heigl. But the Jarl stepped forwards then, and gently took her by the shoulder, and he was so large and so frightening that she felt the indignant fury drain out of her at once.

“Look,” said the Jarl gently, and he clasped his hands around her wrists, and brought them forwards. “Which is your dominant hand? The right?”

“Y– yes, Jarl.”

“Well. You’ll want to hold your right hand near the base, where this flair on the hilt is, and hold tightly with your thumb and finger in a circle.” He positioned her fingers such. “Can you hold that?”

“Hjaland said I should–”

“Hjaland hasn’t fought a Tongue, I’d wager. Hold it like that.”

The Jarl released her, and Almalexia stepped back, raising her sword into fighting-stance, but keeping the grip he’d shown her. “Now,” said the Jarl, “The very moment you see my mouth move, I want you to jerk back on the sword. Now, it’s going to feel strange, and you’ll feel like you’re jerking too hard, but I want you to ignore that, and just jerk. Can you do that?”

“I think so-- I mean, yes, Jarl.”

“Good, clever girl!” The Jarl rose to his full height, and placed both hands on his hips, the sword hanging loosely from his off-hand. “Now, ready?”

He inhaled, but Almalexia reacted too soon, pulling her sword all the way back past her hips. When she realized her mistake she exhaled through her teeth.

“Aye, it’s alright,” said the Jarl reassuringly, “Try again. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Good. Now…”

A long moment’s silence, as the Jarl took a deep breath, and Almalexia stood still, sword raised–

“ZAN HAAL VIIK!”

The shout shook her, but Almalexia jerked back her sword, and the weapon removed rooted in her hand.

Immediately Heigl let out a resounding 'WHOOP’ of delight, clapping her hands, and the rest of the Shouts– who had been watching the lesson with curiosity– followed her lead and cheered. Even the Jarl clapped, and shook Almalexia by the shoulder. “Excellent! See? You resisted my thu'um, easy as a Tongue!”

Almalexia, embarrassed anew by the celebration, raised her off-hand to her face. “I’m not– I only did what you said!”

“Well, you did it well, mal fahliil! I tell you, we’ll make a Nord of you yet!” The Jarl leaned forwards and kissed her forehead, causing her to recoil, thoroughly flustered. Then he rose to his full height and planted his hands on his hips, turning to the Shouts.

“And you lot! Aren’t you supposed to be on patrol? Can’t you see you’re embarrassing the little lass? Be off with ye!”

At the Lord’s chastising, the Shouts turned and hastily returned to their business. A stern glance from the Jarl informed even Heigl and Hjaland that they weren’t exempt from this command– Hjaland withdrew immediately, but Heigl took the time to hug Almalexia, whispering a praise in her ear before following her comrade off the scene.

Almalexia still held her sword, her face burning, and when her Shout protectors had gone she pressed her palm over her eyes. “Oh, Gods, that was–”

“Glorious!” the Jarl interrupted her. “I thought– ah, but you’re shy!”

Almalexia mutely shook her head, but when the Jarl touched her shoulder, she fell forwards and buried her face in his arm.

“I’m not being kind,” said the Jarl, patting her on the back with his free arm. “There, there. But don’t think I’m humouring you. I’ve been naught but earnest! You’re turning into a good little warrior, Almalexia. How old are you now, girl?”

“Thirteen, or near it.”

“Thirteen! Well, you ought to be going off to Throat-Of-The-World soon, if you were born right. It’s a shame,” he squeezed her shoulder, “Your appearance is the only thing elf about you. I never heard of an elf taking so well to sword-craft, dragon-tongue, or the thu'um, not like you have. We would make a Tongue of you. Alas!”

“Ah. Thank you, Jarl.”

“Aye. But if the wolf sat about saying 'If only!’, he’d starve to death for lack of time to hunt. Come,” and he released her, pushing her away, so that she stood blushing and dazed, clutching her sword by her side, “Your mother’s looking for you, something about your Uncle.”

“Indoril Nam? Is that why you came down?”

“Aye, that one. Well? Do you want to go to your Uncle? If you don’t want to, I’ll simply tell him you’re busy. I’d like to show you more, we don’t spend half the time together we ought to.”

Almalexia froze for a long moment, and chewed on her lip, and looked away from the Jarl.

“… Could you?” she began, timidly, “Tell him I’m busy? If you wouldn’t mind showing me more dragon-shouts? Just so I know how to counter them, see–”

The Jarl’s smile was so radiant that one wouldn’t need to look to see it. “Very well, little one! I’ll let Amun-Shae know that Jarl Almalexia is busy with her poor servant Chimarvir. You wait here, mal fahliil, daar pruzah?”

“Geh, thuri. I’ll wait.”

And such it was that the Jarl, formidable and strong, ensured that Almalexia could spend the day learning from a Tongue how best to counter the thu'um; something that would prove more useful than her irate relatives could dream at the time.

#yes i did post this yesterday yes i did delete this while having a tantrum yes i am reposting it now #almalexia #fic

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not-a-statement · 5 years

Text

The last time I forget you

This is kind of therapy for me.

A sequel to Forgotten art of letting go

I know I’m bad at writing dialogues and this all is dumb, forgive me, but I wanted to do this.

Also the title and the last Dipper’s line together make a piece of a lyrics. Let’s see if you’ll recognize the song:)

“If you hit it with your baton I’ll slap you…” Craig hissed.

Eric snickered covering his mouth with the fist. Dipper’s hand hovered.

“Wait, what else I’m supposed to do? The damn thing is inside. It’s gonna give away our presence.”

“So what good your baton’s gonna make? Apart from making it screech.”

“No wonder you are a damn idiot, Dipper.” Eric kept losing it.

“It’s Brian, remember?”

“Yeah, Brian with an i so it looks like brain. Just admit it.”

Craig gave Dipper an intense glare.

“You gonna go for it?”

Dipper’s knuckles turned white. His weapon clutched in his fist, one action dividing him from a smart step or a total failure. At that moment no borders existed, no distinctions mattered, only thing present which dimmed Dipper’s eyes was anticipation of that little dinosaur’s pain. Its agony, its frustrated screams. He only needed to open his fist.

But he couldn’t.

“You gonna roll or what?”

Dipper lowered his hand letting of D6.

“Ah, screw you. I’m not gonna do anything.”

Craig gave him a questioning glance.

“I know you have only 5 for intelligence but even for you that’s odd. I mean props on taking PC that serious, but have you considered wringing its neck?”

“Hey, Dip, no offence on calling you a dumbass, bro. I didn’t mean that” Eric raised his both hands as if defending himself.

“Yeah, whatever” Dipper reached out for bowl of chips “Let’s just move on”

Craig stayed motionless, his eyes scanning Dipper like he was a walking X-ray machine. Eric was just fiddling with his papers looking at the tabletop.

“What?”

“Are you okay, Dip?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Cause you look like something’s bothering you.”

“No I’m not.”

“Actually” Eric said “you are. Kind of been looking like that for more than a month”

An uncomfortable silence crashed in, covering three friends in Craig’s living room. Only one of them knew what kind of waters this topic was about to approach, but it seemed like everybody was aware. After about half a minute Craig raised from his chair and left for kitchen.

“Dude, is there a girl?” It wasn’t like Dipper wasn’t expecting that kind of question but there was something in how Eric said that. In a way like he could look inside his soul. Some sympathy, understanding actually. And that sent a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah...” Dipper exhaled “there is a girl”

The sound of someone digging through fridge’s insides reached the living room accompanied with a clicking sound of glass bottles.

“Hey, Dip-brochete. You know there’s like loads of girls out there, right?” Eric reached out to place his hand on Dipper’s shoulder “and I freaking bet all my savings that at least a half of them would love to spend even a brief moment with you, man. So you know what you should think?”

“Probably she’s dating someone, isn’t she?” Craig reentered the room holding three bottles of beer in his hands. “Wouldn’t be that bothering the other way, huh”

“Aye, that’s exactly my point, bruh!” Eric absentmindedly took a bottle from Craig “If she’s with some other douchebag out there, what good it says about her?“

“Go on”

“Your face will go on” Eric took a swig “How worthy of being adored she could possibly be if she’s neglecting Dip? Like for real - look at you, bro! Top of most classes, book lover, facial hair grower - you are a full package if I do say so myself. Plus I heard girls can be easily attached to brainiacs.”

“Have you ever been with a lady, Eric?” half asked half teased Craig “It’s not like they have checklists for every boy they meet. They are more of feelers rather than estimators”

“Well that’s just dumb. If a girl just appeals to how heart beats or to how many butterflies come to life in your stomach in a presence of a boy she can’t be trusted”

“Hoookay...good luck with your date for upcoming Prom, mate” Craig chuckled “Anyway, who exactly are we talking about, Dipper? If you don’t mind”

“Oh...um” Dipper could feel the first bead of sweat forming at the nape of his neck “She...she’s not from around, she...I mean we...we’ve met in the park the other day actually, so I...doubt you guys are likely to know her...so...yeah”

“Oh, I see. So, that makes it easier I reckon” Craig placed his bottled aside and laid his arms on the table intertwining his fingers “I mean somewhat distance can play good to you. Would be much more severely if you had to face her every day”

“Yeah, tell me about it..” cold and fuzzy bread brewed liquid was alien to Dipper’s throat yet it felt just right. “Add in seeing that blonde tall fucker around her...”

“Wow, that’s harsh. Some dark feelings detected given the F word, mate” Eric eyes started dimming and filling with more sympathy. “Had a chance to see them together?”

“No...no, I mean...how could I, right?” Dipper started backtracking “It’s not like we’re seeing each other often”

“But what’s about that “You tell me” thing?” Craig started to look bewildered.

“That...um...like c’mon, man...have you heard about instagram? It’s like pretty huge”

“Ah, so there’s a pictures of her and her boyfriend you stumbled upon?”

“Yeah, that’s it...totally” Dipper downed his beverage hoping that its coolness would somehow low the temperature within his cheeks.

“And you keep looking them up?”

“I bet he doesn’t” Eric said “How dumb would it be?”

“So you don’t, Dip?” Craig gave Dipper an incredulous look.

“Well, I...” he started looking up for an excuse but failed instantly. “I...I do...”

Both Craig and Eric threw their heads back and groaned.

“What? What’s so wrong about it?”

“What’s so wrong?” Craig asked back “Dipper, that’s like a self torture”

“Yeah, Craig’s right, man. How can you ever gonna get over her if you keep sticking around? Even virtually.”

“Oh, c’mon, that’s not too bad. I’m not like constantly around her, am I” apparently excuses of any kind were not working for Dipper “Besides, if I couldn’t succeed at least I can...you know, analyze”

“Analyze what? Reasons why she’s with him and not with you?”

“Why not? There’s gotta be something”

“Remember what I said, Dip?” Craig asked “Feelers, rather than estimators”

“Oh, do you personally believe in that, Craig?”

“Um. I do”

“But there’s a cause for every feeling, right? I mean what’s so special about that arrogant always preoccupied dumbass? As if I couldn’t get into an argument with the teacher about some History junk. Or like is playing tuba more lame than playing the guitar? Or...or...”

“Dipper, would you knock it off already?” Craig raised both his hands “Look. There’s nothing wrong about you or special about him. It’s just feelings. You can’t predict them or control...well, if you’re not a manipulating asshole which you’re not but...it just happens you know? Chemistry - that’s all.”

Dipper let out a defeated exhale. Of course Craig had a point. Just like a something came to life between him and Mabel once it happened again. It didn’t manage to smother any of his aching though but it wasn’t meant to either. So once again it was Dipper’s job to make himself somewhat resistant to what he felt around her and that jackass. And there’s no point in comparing him and...

“Wait a second...” Eric frowned thoughtfully rubbing his chin “The guitar, the History class banter...I think I know...Pete Weinberg?”

A quick thought consisting only one word “Shit!” flew through Dipper’s mind. He could feel his heart beating rapidly and palms growing sweatier than they could ever be. He wasn’t supposed to reveal so many details to slip up at this point. Honestly he shouldn’t be getting into this conversation in the first place. He must’ve shaken it off immediately when Eric asked first question. He could just pretend that it was upcoming graduation from school or how frustrated he was feeling when it came to picking up the college because he had to make sure that he didn’t end up choosing the same city with a certain person because she was making him feel...Oh, he we go again, shit!

He was dragged out of his panicked thoughts only by the sound of Eric snickering.

“Oh, sorry, dude” Eric managed to say between the laughing waves. “My bad, my bad. That’s too dumb of me. I mean, that Pete guy, he’s definitely dating your sister, I must’ve messed up! Sorry, no insult intended”

Oh, Eric, bless your soul Dipper thought. He couldn’t believe that he was given such an easy escape at that moment.

“Yeah, bro, what was you thinking about” he awkwardly laughed too loudly. “I thought I had the lowest intelligence here! Speaking of - shall we continue our journey through the park full of pre-historic giant reptilian creatures?”

“Oh yeah, baby! I’m down! Sorry once again, bruh”

“Not to worry, dude, not to worry”

Dipper and Eric took their now empty bottles from the table and started shuffling through papers while Craig remained motionless looking at Dipper with a concerned expression on his face.

* * *

“So next Sunday, gentlemen” Eric cheerfully proclaimed standing at the doorstep of Craig’s house “Next time the map’s on me.You’ll gonna love it”

“Just don’t mess up your binder and your sister one next time, would you?” Dipper laughed “I hope she now can spell the word “doggie” correct”

“You make it sound kinky man, gah! She’s six!”

“Your face is kinky”

“Okay, that one’s for you” Dipper and Eric exchanged a handshake still laughing “Right, I’m off. See you tomorrow, lads”

“Bye, Eric” said Craig and Dipper in unison.

As soon as Eric took his direction of a sidewalk and Dipper just put his jacket on was about to say goodbye to Craig the last started speaking:

“Hey, Dip”

“Yeah?”

“Um...about earlier. I couldn’t help noticing you acting a bit...weird when Eric mentioned Weinberg so...”

Dipper froze in spot where he was standing, his pupils going wider.

“I mean...Dipper, I am your friend, you know that?”

With a nervous gulp the only reaction Dipper could make was to nod slightly.

“So...I just wanted you to know that if you want to talk to anybody...you can tell me anything. If that helps”

Dipper couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Craig was actually offering him to vent out his frustration and really seriously talk about his messed up feelings for his sibling. Oh, for how long he wished to have such an option. To lay down all his cards and get a third party’s opinion for him to find a way but...

On the second thought a secret for two should stay as it is and not become a secret for three.

“Yeah” he exhaled “I wish I could...”

With that said he shook his friend’s arm and stepped out to begin his walk home.

#pinecest #dipper x mabel #breaking up

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sebeth · 5 years

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Crisis On Infinite Earths #3

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

The Monitor conducts tests on the child of Earth-3 Alexander Luthor and Lois Lane Luthor. He discovers the child consists of positive and negative matter consisting in one form: “For you somehow bridge this universe and the universe which threatens to swallow us all.”

Harbinger and Psycho-Pirate meet with their mysterious master. He orders the death of the Luthor child.

Earth-1, the future: I’m guessing it’s the 25th or 3oth century. I can’t remember which one Iris was born in. Yes, Iris Allen was from the future. The Tornado Twins (Barry & Iris’s children) fought with the Legion of Super-Heroes (30th century) but I have the 25th century stuck in my head. Flash (Barry) is racing around the massive destruction of Central City due to fierce storms and volcanic activity. Flash notes he’s lived in the future for “a moth” so it has been a month since his mysterious disappearance in the 20th century. Barry attempts to escape the incoming anti-matter wave.

Earth-1, New York City, July 1985: The Teen Titans and the Outsiders are assisting in search and rescue efforts. Superman saves Donna Troy from a collapsing building. Batman also arrives on the scene. Katana wonders why she’s even here: “What use is my sword against a threat like this?” Nightwing’s response: “Maybe none, Katana…but we need you!” Katana’s thoughts are what every low-powered hero thinks in situations like these.

Starfire wants an all-out offense: “We attack! We fight…do whatever we can…and we destroy whoever’s doing this to us! My world was conquered…I’ll not let that happen to this planet, too. You can’t understand. I won’t let this planet die!”

Superman sympathizes: “Believe me, Starfire, I understand all too well.”

Flash appears before the assembled heroes: “Oh my god…my god…I tried warning you…Help me…Hel…” Flash vanishes again. At this point in the series, readers should have realized this Crisis was not going to end well for Barry.

Old-school Brainiac in the classic robot-head tentacle ship! Location: Space, far beyond our solar system. Brainiac observes the expanding anti-matter destruction and comes to a startling observation: “To save myself is my Prime Directive. But to do that, I must also save the universe. I need assistance…on Earth! Only the one who calls himself Luthor can help me now!”

Help me, Lex Luthor, you’re my only hope?!

Late Spring 1994, Markovia, Europe: DC’s war heroes are battling the Nazis for control of the Monitor’s machine. Roll Call: Jeb Stuart and the Haunted Tank, the Losers, Sgt. Rock and the Easy Company.

General Stuart’s ghost warns Jeb: “The world is filled with winners and losers, but often time even losers win. This day, however, small Losers lose and never be seen again.

The World War II era of Pre-Crisis DC was packed to the brim with characters. You had, among others, the Justice Society, the Freedom Fighters, the Seven Soldiers of Victory, the All-Star Squadron, the Blackhawks, the Losers, the Haunted Tank, the Easy Company, the Losers, O.S.S., Madame Marie, the corresponding villains, etc. A very fun era for DC.

Geo-Force, Dr. Polaris, and Blue Beetle arrive on the scene. Blue Beetle is focused on the mission while Geo-Force and Dr. Polaris are determined to massacre the Nazis. In Geo- Force’s defense, Markovia is his home country. Dr. Polaris simply thinks it’s fun.

“My home country lies below. The Nazis slaughtered my people. Perhaps now I can pay them back!” – Go Brion, go!

Shadow Demon attack!

The Losers and most of Easy Company become victims of the Shadow Demons. Rest in peace, guys.

Blue Beetle discovers that the Scarab given to him by Dan Garrett destroys the shadow demons. Unfortunately, Ted nearly falls to his death before being sent home by the Monitor. A wounded Solovar is also sent home. Not quite sure about the Monitor’s logic. You discover that the Scarab can destroy the shadow demons but Ted falls so you bench him? Are you sure you’re trying to win?

1879: Coyote, Texas. The Wild West. DC’s Western heroes are investigating the Monitor’s Machine. Roll Call: Bat Lash, Scalphunter, Jonah Hex, Johnny Thunder, and Nighthawk. Is this an all-boys club? Where’s Cinnamon?

Cyborg, Psimon, Firebrand, and Green Lantern (John Stewart). Needless to say, the heroes’ appearance freaks the cowboys out. Jonah Hex calms the group down as he has met Hal Jordan: “Don’t ya remember the green costume on that hombre? It’s the same one we saw on another guy who called himself a Lantern or something.”

Bat Lash waits all of five seconds before hitting on Firebrand. He has no chance as Firebrand is more into knights than cowboys. Shadow Demon attack! John’s power ring mysteriously fails. Nighthawk and Coyote, Texas, are wiped out in an anti-matter wave.

Metropolis, the 30th Century. Cosmic Boy, Wildfire, Lightning Lass, and Sun Boy fail to stop the spread of the anti-matter wave.

Dream Girl is puzzled about why she had no premonitions about this crisis: “What I don’t understand is why didn’t I dream of it’s coming? How did this happen without my knowing about it?”

Element Lad, Mon-El, and Kid Psycho are evacuating England. Kid Psycho dies due to a combination of a collapsing building and the spreading wave of anti-matter wave.

The Monitor wails: “Instead of days only hours remain. The Earths are doomed!”

Harbinger confronts the Monitor: “It is time for you to die!”

The art of George Perez is gorgeous, as usual. Marv Wolman continues to juggle a huge cast and nails it every time.

Three issues in and the deaths have begun in earnest:

The Crime Syndicate

Earth-3 Alexander and Lois Luthor

The Losers

Easy Company

Nighthawk

Kid Psycho

#Crisis On Infinite Earths #Teen Titans #Legion Of Super-Heroes #Barry Allen #Brion Markov #Starfire #Losers #Easy Company #Haunted Tank #Geo-Force #Jonah Hex #Kid Psycho #Ted Kord #Blue Beetle #Brainiac #Lex Luthor #Katana #Outsiders

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spiritcc · 6 years

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Got it ol in me ded moroz bag, eNJOY THE INFO DUMP, CHILDREN.

1. Andrey Mironov and his Interesting Facts

Lemme not be original and recite the facts that might just as well be very-well known but I myself constantly forget about these:

The dude suffered from skin boils (furuncles) all over his body: this is one of the reasons he always wore these never-ending turtlenecks, it was just a way to hide the skin horrors. Those fuks also hurt af which bothered Mironov’s stage partners and friends in scenes where he’d have to fall and/or get caught by other people, because that they’d have to grab all his 20359582 sore spots and deliver The Pain. Obvs they’d be like m8 lets just change this scene but Mironov insisted to do it for The Art, so all they were left with was to figure out how to grab him today to lessen the pain.

The dude got one real daughter and one fake daughter (stepdaughter ok ok), both were named Maria, which never fails to entertain me whenever pics of both of them show up and ppl are like HECK YEA MASHAS!!! WAIT WHICH MASHA IS THIS??? The fake daughter recently split up from Livanov’s murder son which is a shame imo, it really looked like there was something good going on but alas.

Mironov was the epitome of YOLO, in a positive way, all Mironov and His Friends ever cared about is how to make money and have a grand time, bc nobody was ever rich in the USSR and tbh not that happy either. They can and they WILL get across half of Russia on a scooter to make a show for the grandmas of the Meat Processing Factory No. 425 for em sweet sweet 100 roubles, the absolute SLÜTE for the cash and vodka, jump in for the Good Kush and do not look back. The shite they did on their international theater tours is something else entirely, ma dudes, but basically: THEY WILL EAT YOUR CROPS, STEAL THE FOOD FROM SQUIRRELS, BEG STRANGERS FOR MONEY, DO A GROUP PISSING.

The betch was a constant victim of pranks: whether it was from Livanov and his canteen sausages, or his bffs Shirvindt and Derzhavin who packed his bag for his honeymoon with bricks and a portrait of Lenin, but the pranking shitstorm was relentless and neverending and it looks like Mironov took it all with a big ol face of :’)

2. The most dramatic celebrity romance

I think we can agree it’s them fucking Vladimir Vysotsky and Marina Vlady, my gOD how fucknig dramatic and inflated and over-exposed and fucking overrated, the meaning of DRAMA itself. Yall know how much the government LOATHED every single breath Vysotsky took anyways, thenks to his poetry/songs that rightfully shat all over the most prominent aspects of living in the USSR, so the guy was rolling in constant drama 24/7 as it was, bUT THEN! He just HAD to get involved with a French fucking actress and make it serious: cue the absolute shitshow of them trying to get married, then an even bigger shitshow of Vysotsky getting so fearless he wanted visas to visit his wife in France and he gOT THEM in the end, possibly resulting in the government using his cutouts as target practice. So the betch keeps spitting out his Realest Songs despite them being forbidden, gets a free pass to teh fuckin ABROAD!!!!!! to dick his wife down, and gets away with it ol!!!!! The romance is so fucking shite lmao the gal is still trying to make it out as something Special when the motherfucker was quite openly cheating on her left and right, he literally died with his new burd at his bed (i am so sorry yarmolnik’s wife i luv ur husband and i hope yall still happy together). I think I’ve accidentally read a snippet from her book where she fuckien started describing them FUCKING in some cringy terms i was like hELLO???? THE SHIDD??? Basically, every aspect of Vysotsky’s life and their marriage was always some full-blown drama and tragically enough it still is bc all these other fucks are still alive and throbbing for attention i am so tired.

However, I cannot not include a VERY HONOURABLE ADDITION of uuh ~somewhat” celebs because this romance was GOOD, AND VERY GOOD, AND EXTREMELY GOOD!!!!!

Fucking Brian Grover and Elena Golius in 1938, the absolute mad lads. We have a luv story of an English engineer and some Russian gal who fell in love despite the very real fears in the current regime and all, and despite the gal being woke enough to try and dodge such a potential death sentence on her ass, but Grover’s intentions were good and pure and serious so the otp became canon. The dude was such a sicc engineer he got actually nationwide famous thanks to his sicc good actions during some oil rig explosion disaster, which did make him a celeb I guess. After that the gal felt safe enough to confess her luv and get married but SYKE LOL good luck with that in the fucking 1930s! So Grover came up with a Cunning Plan where he just quit his job, bought an old truck and hid the gal between flour bags, transported her to Moscow and they somehow managed to get married there, bUT SYKE AGAIN!! He had to come back to England one day and when he wanted to return back to Russia TOUGH LUCK LOL THE POLITICAL SITUATION HAS CHANGED UR BLOCKED BETCH BYE. The wife pleads the government and is told to get fuck’d, she applies for a visa and gets fuck’d, the husband accepts a job in Persia and works there for five years in hopes that the country has sum Right People to help him get in Russia, but no luck. Finally, the wife writes to him that’s all lost and rip and they should just forget it all, and this is where Grover goes :)

One day a nice man shows up at London’s flying school asking for a pilot’s license, to which he obvs gets a rational answer of UH M8 YOU GOTTA COMPLETE THE FLYING COURSE N ALL IT LITERALLY TAKES YEARS TO DO??? and the man says that’s ok :)) i am ready :)) in just under a MONTH he gets his license, and uses his last money to buy an old plane and pay another pilot to accompany him on his Surprise Journey, which was literally FLYING ACROSS THE CONTINENT ILLEGALLY TO RUSSIA TO SEE HIS WIFE. So em fucks buckle up and navigate their way with a help of a fuckigg world map from a high school geography book, it was so cold Grover had to water the fuel meter with hot coffee from his thermos to stop it from freezing, all until they finally ran out of everything and safely crashed SOMEWHERE in Russia.

So as the shocked as fuck farmers watch an English fucking plane crash in their field, some nice gent crawls out and in broken Russian says something liek Hello I am Brian Grover and I’m Here To See My Wife :))

Cue the NKVD prison, the mass coverage from the press, the criminal charges up to 10 years in gulags bc of how many fucking laws he broke, but as it became very clear that his only objective was to see his wife, the court suddenly chilled the fuck out and only ordered him to pay a fine and allowed the luv burds to ~reunite~ while the court cheered. SO BRIAN AND ELENA GOT TOGETHER FOREVA AND HAD TWO KIDS AND LIVED WITH EACH OTHER ALL THEIR LIVES TILL THEY WERE LIKE 90 AND DIED ONE YEAR APART!!!!!

IF THAT AINT THE MOST DRAMATIC ROMANCE IN THE USSR THEN NOTHING ELSE IS.

3. Goodie actors/Baddie actors

i wallow quite a lot in biographies and autobiographies n all, and from them i certainly learned that no person is just 100% good or evil, like there are always aspects of their lives where they are assholes, but there are always good sides to them as well, so in that conclusive sense of ASSHOLE vs ANGEL, nobody is either. My luv smoktun is a strong power bottom irl but an absolute annoying betch when it comes to The Art, mikhalkov is the fuckin devil child but everybody always praises how good of a director and even a friend he was (NOT ANYMOR HUH), Livanov is always that 50/50 on the pure evil vs goodness good scale, like it’s hard to just pinpoint a BETCH or a UWU.

But I’ll try and say that on the Bad scale, it’s usually the gals, and Nonna Mordyukova is one of them. Like we have divas, but then there’s this gal where you just never know what she’ll do to you. A nightmare to work with (”mordyuk” the “”swear word””” from the diamond arm is literally Gaidai getting pissed at working with her this much), explosive in life, holding fucking nothing sacred. Varley, her daughter-in-law, was just liek TF 24/7 bc one day the grandson would be her best person ever and then SUDDENLY she’d be like FUCK YOU AND FUCK THIS KID WHO KNOWS WHERE IT CAME FROM!!! despite the kid being a carbon copy of Mordyukova’s son. You’re just constantly at her vague mercy wondering which stars should align today for her to suddenly change your mind about you, like idk what is everybody loving about her but she was a rather heavy and unpleasant person to be around and fuck that. Also, not a good fucking actress. Find me a role where she isn’t playing some Ethnic Slavic Woman.

As for the Pure Good, we will never have the Pure but the Big Good is Alexander Abdulov. Trust me, this guy sure knows how to tell you to fuck off and push his own self to get something and punch you in the face and even describe how he’s going to dismember you with a straight face (asdfgh it’s a long story), but he was Good. Anything you read about him, all Good, he was a very friendly guy, outgoing, active, kind, made friends with everybody, was an insane workaholic (only managed to work on the wizards during the night bc for the rest of the day he was busy in FOUR OTHER FILMS SIMULTANEOUSLY). I luv his own fake daughter story bc he really did consider Alfyorova’s daughter his own, and he’d fuckin punch you so hard if you tell him otherwise. As he said himself, he knows all her problems, all her interests, all her worries and joys, so she is his 100% no-gmo daughter. aND the fake daughter has an insta n everything and everytime she mentions Dad it’s nothing but love and rainbows and almost a decade later after his death she still cannot bring herself to visit his grave bc she just doesn’t believe that he is truly dead. All of that, mind you, with the fact that abdul and alfyorova split up and he had a family of his own later in life n all, so there was NO obligation for anything at all from either of them and yet still abdul loved her senselessly. She’s ask for a bag of sweets and he’ll get her a fucking truck of these, total mad lads all around. PLUS he was Peltser’s almost fake son she luved him this much, and stories about Peltser indicate that she was One Hell of a woman, and yet even she crumbled before the Good. I’m just never worried when it comes to articles about abdul bc i know it’s either clickbait or something good again.

THAT’S ALL DED MOROZ HAD IN HIS BAG FOR THESE QUESTIONS, CALL SNEGUROCHKA X3 MORE TIMES TO SUMMON MORE

#andrey mironov #alexander abdulov #vladimir vysotsky #QUESTION TIM BITCH #ASK MORE MY BALLSACK IS STILL FUL- shouldnt have said that

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ineffablywriting · 6 years

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Passive Aggressive

Part: four

A one shot turned minific where Harry’s a bit of an asshole and all Jasmine really wants is for him to show her his world.

read part three here // send me your thoughts here!

It had been a month.

Harry hadn’t heard a word from Jazz for a month, yet he still jumped at the first ring of his phone, leapt out of bed at the slightest rattle of the front door. He woke up every morning reaching for a body that wasn’t beside him, in a bed that was smelling less and less like her each night.

On his really bad days, sometimes he pulls out the t-shirt of his that she used to wear to bed every night - she’d left it behind that night and Harry had spent the day curled on the couch when he’d found it. It still smelt like her and Harry worried one day that would fade too, so he keeps it carefully folded in the closet, waiting for the day Jazz comes home. Because she will come home, she has to. She has to.

So it had been a month and Jazz still wasn’t back and Harry was getting more and more restless by the day. Zayn had dropped by a couple of times to remind him of meetings and recording sessions he’d forgotten about, always with some homemade food because it was the only way he knew how to comfort him.

He remembers Zayn’s mum telling him one time that food could soothe an aching soul like nothing else. He supposes she was right, remembering nights when Jazz was curled up on the couch, a furrow between her brows as she chewed her lips trying to come up with an idea for an art project. He’d cook her something then, fretting about, making sure she was eating and taking care of herself because he knew sometimes she’d be so caught up in her art that she forgot to care for herself.

He sighs, glancing at the clock. He needs to go grocery shopping soon; he was running low on edible things and he’d promised Zayn he’d start looking after himself more. So with more reluctance than he cares to admit, he makes himself presentable enough to be seen in public and dawdles his way down to the small store he and Jazz frequented.

The bell above the door chimes as he walks in and Tom gives him a surprised hello from behind the counter. “Alright, lad?” he greets. “‘Aven’t seen you here for awhile. How’s the Princess doing?” he jokes.

“I, uh, yeah. She’s good. Been a bit busy is all,” Harry mumbles, unable to meet Tom’s eye. He shuffles around to the back of the store where the juice was located and grabs one without the juicy bits, his heart clenching at the thought of the juice he’d thrown out not two days ago, but he couldn’t stand the thought of Jazz coming home and finding the fridge empty.

“Harry?” Tom calls for his attention as he rings up his purchases. “You sure you’re alright, kid?”

“I messed up,” he blurts, unable to stand the curious but warm gaze of the middle aged store owner before him. “Jazz is gone. She left me,” he confesses. “I’d been so rude and distant lately and I...I took her for granted. All of it for granted. I don’t know if she’s coming back,” he admits in a whisper, almost hoping the slight breeze from the ceiling fan above him would carry it away.

“She’ll come back,” Tom says after a moment’s thought. “The way I see it, there’s no way she won’t. You don’t see the way she looks at you when you walk in here and head straight to the juice out the back. It’s like, well, I don’t even know how to describe it. But it’s exactly the same way you look at her when she insists that the strawberry gum she picks up is her favourite, all because she knows it’s your favourite; even though she’ll come back in the next day to buy the mint flavour.”

“You didn’t see her that night,” he shakes his head, refusing to let the glimmer of hope spark in his chest. “She… she didn’t look like herself. She didn’t look like Jazz. And I can’t help but think I did that.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tom tells him, so certain with his words that harry almost believes him. “There’s no way she’s not coming back. That girl was almost as mad for you as you are for her. Do you remember that time you had row and you left for some press business?” he asks Harry, realising he’d have to try harder to make the young man in front of him listen to what he was saying. Harry nods reluctantly. “She’d come down here dressed in a shirt that was clearly too big for her and buy the biggest tub of your favourite mint choc chip ice cream with these sad eyes and chewed lips until the day you got back, and suddenly she was all smiles and laughter.”

Harry still looks troubled, making Tom shake his head again. “Just trust me, son,” he encourages him. “Give her some more time. And if that doesn’t work, chase her to the ends of this earth until it does.”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Zayn confesses, collapsing onto the sofa beside Harry and handing him a bottle of water.

Harry glares at him. “Why are you in my flat? Again.”

“It’s not like I didn’t knock first. You just wouldn’t answer.”

“‘Cos I knew it was you,” Harry grumbles.

“And you won’t leave the house either,” Zayn ignores him and rolls his eyes. “It’s not healthy for you to lock yourself away. We’ve called and asked you to come out with us multiple times but you won’t ring any of us back, so.”

“What do you want, Zayn?” Harry sighs, dropping his head back on the couch and staring up at the ceiling.

“I spoke to Jazz,” Zayn says gently, carefully watching Harry from the corner of his eye. He stiffens, scrambling to sit upright to look over at Zayn. “Or, well, she spoke to me,” he admits guiltily. “She called me and couple days ago.”

“Days?” Harry asks looking like a kicked puppy and Zayn has to look away from him because he feels terrible but he’s also angry because Harry did this to himself. “And you’re only telling me now?”

“You wouldn’t answer my calls!” Zayn argues, suddenly defensive. He rubs at his face to calm himself down.

“Is she ok? Is she coming home?” Harry asks in quick succession.

“I -,” Zayn cuts off. “She’s fine. She’s coming back into town,” he pauses. “But she’s not coming home. Not how you think.”

“She doesn’t want to see me,” he nods glumly.

“I’m sorry, mate,” Zayn tells him. “I tried to get her to talk to you, but she doesn’t think she’s ready. I think she’s scared. She thinks you’re happier without her and -”

“What?!” Harry all but yells. “How can she think that? You told her I wasn’t, right? That I’m miserable?”

“Believe it or not, I did,” he confirms. “But she wouldn’t listen. Apparently you’re not the type to sit alone at home moping into an old t-shirt eating ice cream you don’t like and throwing out bottles of undrunk orange juice every other week,” he drawls dryly. “Despite the evidence,” he glances around the lounge in obvious distaste. “I thought I was messy,” he mutters under his breath.

“I just… I don’t understand,” Harry moans. “I know I was distant and, fuck, a complete dick to her but,” he runs a hand through his hair in distress. “But I don’t know how to live without her Zayn. It’s like...like I’ve lost a limb. I can’t sleep in our damn bed anymore, my back feels like it’s aged twenty years because of the springy mattress in the guest room and the rest of the flat just feels empty. You have to tell her to come back, to come home.”

“I tried,” Zayn insists. “But you didn’t see her that night. You broke her heart,” Zayn tells him, trying and failing to keep the accusal out of his voice.

“What night?” he asks. “What are you talking about? Her birthday? I didn’t mean to forget. I just had so much on my mind,” he rattles off, not giving Zayn any chance to respond.

“You forgot her birthday?” Zayn asks, disbelief and disappointment clear in his tone.

“I didn’t mean to,” Harry whispers and Zayn doesn’t think he’s ever seen his friend look so small before. “I was talking about the night of the gallery,” he continues, deciding it might be best to just tell Harry what had happened rather than leaving him to guess. Zayn wasn’t sure he could listen to any other foolish things Harry may have done and still keep a level head. He’d spent the better part of the last month making sure Harry kept it together because he was his friend. But so was Jazz and it was becoming harder and harder not to whack Harry on the back of the head and yell at him about how much of an idiot he was and how he didn’t deserve someone like Jazz. All of which Zayn was sure he was already thinking himself, and if he wasn’t he would be after Zayn told him what they’d heard the night Jazz had packed up and left.

“The night of the gallery?” Harry asks, confused. “That was the night she left.”

“Yeah,” Zayn sighs, suddenly unable to look Harry in the eyes. “When you were stood with your knobhead friends talking about how you’d forgotten what it was like to be single and that it wasn’t too late for you to remember as he shoved you in the direction of a bunch of fit birds,” he says roughly, unable to keep the bitterness out.

“No,” Harry pales, which is a miracle since he didn’t have much colour in his cheeks in the first place. “She heard all of that?”

“And then when you didn’t come home that night either,” Zayn shrugs pointedly, making Harry’s gut churn with remorse and self hatred.

“I didn’t cheat on her, Z. I would never do that to anyone. I would never do that to her. I don’t know why I said those things that night,” he panics, tugging roughly at his hair. It was sitting limply on his head and Zayn found himself wondering vaguely when the last time Harry had showered was. “I can’t imagine not spending the rest of my life with her.”

“I can tell,” Zayn snorts a little, trying to lighten the mood because no matter how much he blamed Harry for what had happened, and how much he thought he was daft for treating Jazz so poorly, at the end of the day Harry was his friend, and he never wanted to see his friends hurt.

“When is she coming back?” Harry asks after a moments hesitation. “I-you can tell me that right?” He stutters almost desperately. And Zayn tries not to flinch at the raw pain in his voice.

“Next week. She’s coming back next week,” Zayn tells him bluntly.

“For her art show,” Harry continues, a memory igniting of the time Jazz had come home late covered in paint with her hands failing, eyes panicked but excitement clear in her smile as she’s told Harry about the biggest art exhibit she’s ever managed to book. “She still hadn’t finished painting,” he tells Zayn. “The-the night of-that night,” he stumbles over the phrasing of the sentence, still unable to come to terms with what he’d done. “That was a practice run. She wanted to do a couple of smaller shows with just friends and family and a smaller crowd before she let the general public and any art critics see her work. She was so excited for it.”

“She still is,” Zayn says. “She’s coming into town to finish some work, I think. She didn’t really tell me much, and I didn’t think to ask. I was just really happy to hear from her. To ask if she was ok,” he admits, Harry’s heart cracking and breaking with every word. “Sorry,” Zayn says, noticing the broken look in Harry’s eyes.

“Was she? Ok, I mean.”

“She was managing,” Zayn evades the question.

“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” Harry asks him.

“I don’t know, mate. I just know that she loved you more than anything in the world.”

Harry tries not to focus on the tense, but he couldn’t help it as the word continued to ring in his head while Zayn watched him worriedly.

Loved.

#passive aggressive #I was gonna write more before I posted this but honestly I want to hurt everyone sorry #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #one direction fan fiction #hary imagine #harry imagine #harry styles 1dff #harry fic #harry fanfic #harry one shot #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst

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shireness-says · 6 years

Text

Lullaby

Summary: The house is quiet. There’s a good reason for that, however - a very small, still fragile reason who they’re all loath to disturb in any way. ~2.2K. Also on AO3.

A/N: Here’s another little snippet from my rockstar!Emma/bartender!Killian AU. After my last piece in this verse, several people wanted to know if there’d be a follow up with little Wiley. Ask, and you shall receive! Previous installments can be found on tumblr here and here and on AO3 here; I’d definitely recommend you check those out first so you get the background information. Unbeta’d, in the true spirit of the original, and rated G. Title and the lyrics at the beginning and end come from yet another Dixie Chicks song. Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

How long do you want to be loved?

The little house is quiet, which is notable in and of itself. Any place Killian Jones and Emma Swan (Emma Swan-Jones, really, according to the paperwork, if not public memory) is typically notable for the sound reverberating through it, between her music and his penchant for chatter and their shared love for their stereo system. But it’s quiet now, even if it’s only three in the afternoon.

There’s a good reason for that, however - a very small, still fragile reason who they’re all loath to disturb in any way.

Wiley David Jones is a mere eight days old, but he’s already become Killian’s entire world - a sentence that feels entirely melodramatic, and yet is entirely true. Meeting Emma, falling in love with Emma, had felt like a missing piece being found and slotted into his soul - a feeling of contentment and completeness he wouldn’t trade for the world - but holding his son for the first time is a different thing altogether: feelings of pride and fear mixed together with the sense that his world has suddenly been blown wide open and become larger than he could ever have fathomed. It’s awe-inspiring, really, and especially amazing that those feelings can be caused by something so small.

Killian’s been assured that his son is a perfectly normal size multiple times - 6 pounds, 11 ounces and 20 inches at birth - but that doesn’t keep him from thinking that Wiley is unutterably tiny, all his features miniscule and appearing unimaginably delicate. He’s a handsome lad, though Killian may be biased on that front, with soft wisps of dark hair and the cutest little nose. Killian sees a lot of Emma in their boy, in his chin and the shape of his mouth and the way Wiley is always moving when he’s awake (and often when he’s not) - not unhappy, just determined to be in motion, like he’s trying to find where the action is. Emma, bless her, swears the exact opposite, that their boy is clearly taking after his papa (“Just look at those ears, for God sake”). Regardless of which parent little Wiley currently takes after, Killian finds a certain amount of wonder in knowing that as the years pass, their little one will grow into his own person, a mix of the two of them that he’ll make entirely his own.

Technically, Wiley is supposed to be napping. Technically, they both are - sleep when the baby does and all that - and Emma, at least, is wise enough to actually take that advice. But Killian had caught some of the little newborn gurgles coming through the baby monitor as he finished tidying up the kitchen, and the noise had called to him like its own kind of siren song. Creeping into the nursery he and Emma had so carefully set up and decorated with pictures of cartoon zoo animals, he can see the little lad wide awake in his crib, pedalling his arms and legs like he’s attempting to run a race no one can see. And honestly, as long as they’re both awake, what’s the harm of having a little cuddle?

There’s an art to picking up a baby, he’s learned in the last week, a series of careful maneuvers to ensure that one’s infant is safe and secure and supported in one’s arms. But after eight days, it’s starting to become instinctual, all the intricacies of weaseling a hand under Wiley’s little neck and bum before lifting him fully into the air and into his arms, and Killian is confident is will soon become an unconscious motion.

“Hello there, little one,” he coos, and God, when did he become a man who coos? “Are you not sleepy yet?”

It seems ridiculous to Killian that Wiley isn’t tired, considering the very eventful week he’s had. Being born ought to be stressful enough, suddenly facing a wide, wide world with only the comfort of a few familiar voices to know everything will be alright, but he’s had a steady stream of visitors ever since. Liam and Elsa seem to be over at the little house on some excuse or other every day, though they do bring various casseroles and other meals, so that’s ultimately welcomed (even if Killian would like a day with just his wife and son sometime in the near future, thank you very much). There’s been a steady stream of quasi aunts and uncles parading through as well, only increasing the chaos. Ruby had dropped by the hospital, promising the newborn she’d teach him everything his parents forbade (a declaration neither Emma or Killian is particularly surprised by, but will try to remember as Wiley gets older). Robin and Regina brought over flowers and a lasagna the day after everyone got settled in together at home, fussing over the baby in a way that Killian thinks suggests they may try for their own addition in the near future. Belle and Will had generously donated some of their more gender-neutral hand-me-downs to the cause of clothing the little lad, and stopped by both the hospital and the house a few days later to introduce their own little girl to Wiley.

(“We’re going to have our hands full, won’t we?” laughs Will, gently and confidently bouncing the tiny lad in his arms like the more experienced parent he is. He’s probably thinking of one child leading the other into trouble some day and how much of a pain that will prove to be, but Killian is struck with a silly grin at the thought of two dark heads hiding behind the sofa or giggling as they run up and down the length of the bar on an evening one of their parents’ bands play at the Jolly Roger.

They’ll certainly have their hands full, and Killian can’t wait.)

The parade of loved ones isn’t likely to stop anytime soon; Mulan will be in town to talk business at the end of the month, having been sent plenty of photos in the meantime, and Emma’s family is expected at the end of the week, graciously granting the new parents a chance to settle in before they fly over from the States and stage a well-meaning and affectionate invasion. Killian is grateful for all the support; he really is. It’s been heartwarming to witness the collection of people who already love his son. But he’s just as pleased for these small moments to themselves, just him and Emma and Wiley.

In all seriousness, Killian is exhausted, and had planned to join Emma in bed for that nap. But as long as Wiley is awake, it seems criminal not to take advantage of every single moment. His one concession is to lower himself into the nursery’s cushioned rocker with the lad and at least get off his feet for a few minutes. Even better, the rocking might put both of them to sleep.

Not right now, though. Right now, Wiley is reaching up at Killian with tiny fingers from the cradle of his arms, and really, it’s enough to make any man melt.

“Whatever shall we do, my little one?” he questions softly. “You and I will need to pass the time somehow.”

Wiley just stares back at him, jaw dropped open in a little O, that adorable infant expression probably born of lack of muscle control that always looks like he’s in a state of open-mouthed wonder over his papa’s words. Killian would be perfect happy just to trace that expression with gentle fingers all day, revelling in the idea that his boy loves his voice, when he’s struck with an idea. A terribly silly, totally delightful idea.

“You don’t know this yet, little love, but your mama is a bit of a rock star,” he whispers conspiratorily, hauling himself back out of the comfortable chair to cross the room and turn on the sound system that is definitely way too elaborate for a baby’s room. Scrolling through his phone on his way back to seated comfort, he finds the song he’s looking for easily. “And even though she’s a rock star, she loves me very much. She even wrote me a song. Do you want to hear it, my lad? Want to hear Mama sing?”

When Wiley doesn’t openly shriek in protest, Killian presses play, making sure to set the volume almost as low as it will go to protect little ears and not wake Emma up from her well deserved rest. The quiet strains of his song trickle through the nursery speakers - a recording he has of Emma singing it - and he could swear that his little boy perks up a little, hearing his mother’s voice over the sound system.

“Yeah, that’s Mama,” he coos, lifting Wiley to rest on his chest. God, he’ll never get over that newborn smell - baby powder and something new and fresh and pure. “Just think of all the songs she’s going to write you, my sweet boy.”

“Are you really trying to indoctrinate him this early, Jones? I think he’s a bit young to be a fan.”

Looking up at the interruption, he can see Emma in the door, barefooted and hair still tousled from her nap. With a soft smile on her face and an amused twinkle in her eye at her boys’ tableau, she looks beautiful, though she’d probably wave him off if he tried to tell her that.

“I think Wiley will be a fan of yours regardless, darling,” he smiles back. “After all, you’re his mum.”

It never fails to amaze Killian, that his compliments can still make Emma blush after all this time, but there’s a telltale red stain to her cheeks as she moves to take the baby from him and perch on Killian’s lap so that all three are curled in the rocking chair.

“He’ll be a fan of yours too, you know,” Emma tries to argue back in that adorable, stubborn way of hers that Killian loves.

“Well thank you darling, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re easily the more impressive of the two of us. I mean, bartender vs. famous musician? There’s a clear winner there.”

Emma shakes her head insistently, leaning back with the baby in her arms to more fully make eye contact. “Yeah, but you’re Dad. The other stuff isn’t going to matter.”

That thought alone is awe inspiring, and Killian finds himself tearing for the countless time this week. Because she’s right, isn’t she? Just like always. Their little boy isn’t going to particularly care about such trivial matters as their profession and whether or not they can sing or write him a song, as long as he grows up loved beyond all reason. And Wiley will be, as long as Killian has breath.

“Thank you, my love,” he smiles through teary eyes. He lets the moment sit for a bit longer, trading loving gazes with Emma as their son fights sleep between them, little eyelids fluttering to stay open. There’s a comfort to this, emotionally if not physically, holding the two most precious people in his life safe in the circle of his arms. Finally tightening his arms to draw them closer, the moment may have been effectively ended, but he relishes the chance anyways to hold his little family tighter and feel the weight of Emma’s head as it comes to rest on his shoulder.

“In any case,” he continues in a more light-hearted tone, “I wanted to introduce the little lad to one of my favorite bands. Their songwriter has an amazing voice, I’ve heard.”

Emma offers as much of a shove with her shoulder as she can without disturbing the almost-asleep Wiley in response to Killian’s teasing smirk, but her cheeks pink up again, which feels like its own kind of victory. “Shut up,” she mumbles, nestling closer into his body despite the words.

There’s so many things he could say - teasing comments and grand declarations and everything in between. He’s already lost count of the amount of times in the past week he’s thanked Emma for their son - needlessly, she claims, but Killian knows better. But the crux of the matter is this: when life is more perfect than you ever imagined possible, can words possibly express it? Is it even worth the effort of trying?

Maybe; maybe not. Killian decides that in this moment, it just doesn’t matter, and chooses instead to drop a kiss on the crown of her head. “As you wish, love,” he murmurs into the part of her hair, still happy to follow any command she gives him.

The song may finish, and the house may descend back into back into silence once again, but the little family remains cuddled together in the nursery for a while longer, even after Wiley finally falls asleep. After Emma lays the baby back in his crib and wanders back out to the main living space, Killian takes one final moment just to watch his son sleeping peacefully before joining her. It’s funny, the way one’s entire life can change in the course of a week; change infinitely and enormously and for the better.

The house may be quiet, but his heart sounds with joyful trumpets, ushering in years of roaring happiness to come.

Is forever enough? Is forever enough?

#my writing #cs ff #lullaby #maybe i won't die alone #second verses and happy beginnings #bartender!killian #rock star!emma #and their adorable baby

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rounse-error · 6 years

Text

V-rella

[Mystic Messenger © Cheritz

Cinderella/Cendrillon © Charles Perrault

Story © rounse-error]

Please do not plagiarize my work!

Plot: “Take away the magic and whatnot. How would a fairytale turn out to be?”

AU: Cinderella Universe

Genres: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Jihyun Kim (V) X MC

For @jihyunmcweek; Day 5: Fairy Tale

Author’s Note: I originally wanted to write a one-shot but inspiration overtook me so yeah, here you go...a mini series for the event. After this, I’ll be sure to work on my 2nd batch request.

Side note: My writing style - for this series - will change depending on the perspective of the focused character.

Part 1: Crown Princess MC

“As future queen, your main priority is to rule and lead our people in the right direction. However, as you are my precious daughter, I pray that you choose the right one.”

“Of course. I shall not fail you, father.”

***

The capital city of the Han Kingdom buzzed with life and wonder. The streets were crowded with citizens as usual and went on with their daily routines. Numerous shops were open and its store keepers advertised their goods to the public with booming and lively voices. Children ran around and played around to their hearts’ content.

But unbeknownst to the citizens, the crown princess stood amongst them. Disguised in a simple attire, MC strolled around the ever-busy streets with ease and by her side was her faithful maid and friend, Jaehee who kept an eye on her.

“Shouldn’t we do our main objective by now, Mi-…MC?”

“Oh, Jaehee! We have until sundown to accomplish it! Why don’t we entertain ourselves with the common pleasantries first, hm?”

“No, MC. Our objective must be our priority or else, the Ki-…your father will be disappointed.”

MC huffed out her annoyance of Jaehee’s constant nagging and placed her palms on her hips. With a pout, she stated, “Jaehee…but father dearie also did say that I can enjoy eating common foods called food in a stick, watch puppet shows, and other fun things!”

“Fine. You may do whatever you want for two hours only…”

“Thanks, Jaehee!”

And thus, her venture began.

Amazed and curious about the commoners and their simple world, MC subconsciously slipped away from Jaehee’s watchful eyes and failed to anticipate a nervous lad – who was burdened with carrying a file – running into her direction. Her eyes focused in a certain painting until they both collided against each other in a forceful impact. Due to her small structure, she fell flat on the cemented ground and soiled her dress in the process.

MC was rather surprised by a hand held out to her yet pushed the feelings of embarrassment aside and took the stranger’s hand. Although it was brief, MC noticed how calloused and larger the stranger’s hand was as well as the faint colorful smudges in the ends of their fingers.

Those smudges…they’re dried paint, aren’t they?

“I-I’m so sorry, Miss! I wasn’t looking where I was going!”

MC was taken aback by the harmonious and refined voice of a handsome stranger. She felt being lulled to sleep as he continued to utter words of apologies. Despite her nearly spacing out, a stern and queenly part of her willed herself back to reality. She forced herself to focus at the mint-haired beauty before her without letting herself slip away.

“It is fine. No harm was done to me,” she stated to end the awkwardness between them.

With her reply, he blinked away all the stress and anxiety away and she felt herself being captivated by staring deep into a pair of beautiful turquoise orbs. Those eyes held serenity and kindness yet underneath them was a pair of virtuoso eyes that saw the world much deeper compared to her imaginative and childish view.

For this man to be so perfect, he must have been an angel in disguise or maybe, this was just her imagination talking…

“-ss? Hello, Miss? Are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine. The heat is just getting to me,” MC reasoned while faking in rubbing her nonexistent sweat away with one forearm.

Great job, MC. You managed to make a fool of yourself. Of course, no one would buy your excuse-

“Well, the heat is certainly extreme around this time of the month,” he said with a nervous chuckle. He felt the urge to copy the same action as MC but resisted due to the confidential file in his grasp.

He’s either playing along or didn’t notice it at all…

As MC opted to looking at anywhere but him, the file in his possession caught her interest. The stranger paled as MC attempted to squint her eyes to get a better look on his father’s file. “Um, Miss?”

“What’s that you’re holding?”

“Well, this file consists of financial statements of my father’s business...”

“Ah. Could it be that your father is a businessman?”

“A merchant to be extact…”

“Interesting,” MC stated with eyes brightening up in curiosity. Perhaps, he could be of help with her request.

“It sure is.”

“If you’re a merchant’s son…then, can I ask you a question about a certain product?”

“I’ll do my best to answer it,” he replied, trying not to let his worry get the best of him as MC forgot about her ruined attire and didn’t have the slightest clue about bystanders staring at her disheveled form while gossiping among their peers.

“I’d really like to ask permission from a painter who made this beautiful painting…if I could buy it,” her hand gestured to a painting that stood out amongst other paintings outside of an art shop as merely a display to which his eyes followed her gesture and they widened in surprise. Then she continued, “…perhaps, you might know him or her?”

“That painting?”

She nodded after he pointed to a painting of the sun that shone over the Han Kingdom, then he fell silent as if pondering over something much more complex than she could think of. She waited in anticipation, hoping that he knew of the mysterious painter called V.

“Fortunately, I know whom you speak of. I’d certainly ask him, but may I inquire as to why you desire to have it?”

“Well…you see, I-…I mean, the crown princess is secretly fond of V’s art works. I promised to purchase one for her if it’s possible,” she hoped that her reason was convincing enough not to draw suspicion from him, and to her relief, he nodded without question.

“Oh, I see. He would definitely be delighted to hear such a praise.”

“Thank you very much. Well-“

Their conversation came to an end as they saw Jaehee frantically calling out to MC. All color was drained from MC’s face, fully knowing that she’d prepare for the worst to come once she’s been found. “I should get going. See you around!”

He waved at her in response before turning his back and his figure slowly faded from her line of sight. She smiled dreamily before a pair of hands grabbed her shoulders to turn her back and she came to face with a furious Jaehee.

“You gave me such a fright! Your father would have my head if I truly lost you!” Jaehee’s grip on her tightened yet MC knew that Jaehee was also careful enough not to bruise her so MC made no effort to peel herself away from her frightening grip and sheepishly grinned instead.

“Sorry. I got distracted and left you behind…I didn’t expect the capital to be this fun!”

“I’d have to report your unruly behavior-“

“Let’s leave that for later! Jaehee, I found the one for my upcoming ball!”

Never had she seen Jaehee look so relieved in her entire life. Could it be she’d given her poor friend enough trouble for these past few weeks? Feeling her shoulders being free from Jaehee, the numbing ache began acting up. MC let them keep hurting, fully aware that she deserved it for giving Jaehee a new set of wrinkles in her forehead.

“That is great news. So, what do you plan next?”

MC tapped on her hip, trying to remember her next move while Jaehee prayed that it didn’t involve trespassing someone’s premises and whatnot.

“Well…”

***

MC grinned in triumph as she held a piece of intel about her chosen partner. Putting it inside her gown pocket, she knew that there was no point in staying here – Merchant Kim’s premises – any further. MC checked for unwanted presences within her line of vision before leaping out of an open window and landed perfectly on the moist grassy land.

Not far from where she stood was Jaehee hidden inside the bushes and MC could faintly hear her mantras of apologies in breaking the law and indulging the wishes of her mischievous princess.

“Jaehee, I’m over here…”

Upon hearing her princess, Jaehee crawled out of her hiding spot and heaved out a sigh, feeling relieved that MC managed to sneak in someone’s premises – that was packed with busy workers – undetected.

“We’re done here, now it’s time to flee,” she said as she grabbed for Jaehee’s hand and they fled the premises sneakily, managing to be out of the workers’ sight by hiding behind every tree and every bush.

Now, they sat on a bench in a local parker and basked themselves under the light of sundown. They took a quick breather before MC handed Jaehee the piece of paper, Jaehee’s brows narrowed in confusion as she read the details.

“But what you wrote is someone’s measurement for the trousers, the top-…wait, what am I supposed to do with this?”

“You’ll be shopping for a bit,” MC answered, still enjoying her roasted corn in a stick. Then she proceeded, “and then…you’ll be playing Fairy Godmother for this person if it’s alright.”

An amateur drawing of a min-haired man was in Jaehee’s grasp. Her blank expression offered no guarantee of her request being fulfilled. MC secretly hoped she’d be willing to accept it…

“To think that Crown Prince from Choi Kingdom influenced you this much, I’d have to report this to your father as well…”

“But Saeyoung is my new friend who turned out not be a snob or an arrogant idiot! And please Jaehee, this will be my last request!”

“Well, I-“

[TBC]

#mystic messenger #mysme #mysme event #mystic messenger fanfic #mysme fanfic #mysme fluff #jihyunmcweek #jihyun x mc #mysme v #mysme jihyun #jihyun kim #mysme jaehee #jaehee kang #mysme jumin #jumin han #mysme 707 #saeyoung choi

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missytearex · 6 years

Text

To Read List - Zouis

This list is purely for myself to keep track of everything I still want to read. Its gonna change as I actually read though them and find more stuff to add.

Find fics I’ve already read here.

Zouis

far side of the moon by zouee

the one where louis’ summer holidays are blessed (or cursed) by the new boy next door.

promise me you won't regret me (like the tattoos on my skin) (orphan_account)

it seems like pain and regret are your best friends / cause everything you do leads to them / but baby i could be your best friend / and baby, i could fuck you right

the one where zayn's a stripper who swings both ways, louis' straight (or so he thinks), and harry's the gay best friend who wants to party. all. the time.

run away home with me (orphan_account)

Louis is suddenly and intoxicatingly glad to be here, under this sky and walking across this broken-up asphalt with Zayn, who is ridiculous and beautiful and looks on the whole world like it is both his for the unravelling and something that he will never be able to touch.

Very end of high school/summer before uni AU. Features approx. one instance of attending class, one study session, several dumb teenage parties, an end-of-an-era camping trip and a lot of feelings about getting older and falling for your best friend, as well as possibly slightly obsessive detailing of the weather.

I Wanna Dance With Somebody by FallingLikeThis

“Hey, Liam,” Louis asks before Niall’s best man can escape to the dancefloor with everyone else. “Who’s the DJ?”

“Oh, that’s Zayn Malik. He’s a good friend of ours. Why?” Liam asks, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“Because I’m going to marry that man.”

somewhere in the night by alnima

Louis smiles at him back and hopes that Zayn can’t see the swirl of emotion inside him. He’s a stranger and Louis is catching feelings, go figure. Leave it to him to take in a stray and want to keep him.

which one of you is the one you are by leighbot

A fortnight in America and Louis’ craved In-N-Out Burger every day. He tells himself it has nothing to do with a certain sharp-tongued and prickly-tempered pretty lad but he’s only partially lying. Or, Louis’ a Brit in America who is just trying to raise his daughter and excel at work. A pretty man and terribly unhealthy fast food are trying to make his life difficult.

fire for a heart by alnima

“Then how come I’ve never noticed him before?” Louis asks, because he knows everyone. Or well, he knows most everyone. That’s his thing. He knows people. That doesn’t mean he’s friends with them or that he likes them all – or that they like him – but still. Zayn somehow slipped under his radar and he doesn’t understand how. Zayn is—Louis would have noticed him.

“He’s shy. He’s not really concerned about being known,” Liam says, like that’s an explanation for it. And maybe it is. Maybe not everyone wants the world to know their name like Louis does. “And why are you so concerned about him? Do you like him or something?”

“I don’t even know him, Liam, don’t be ridiculous.”

Or the one where Louis is on the football team, Zayn is in yearbook, and they make it work.

Break My Bones But You Won't See Me Fall by catholicschoolgirl

"Maybe Louis was growing up. Maybe this was his coming of age story."

Or, Louis is Bella Swan, Zayn is Edward Cullen, and vampires are totally real.

Deadly Jokes by zouisprince

Louis is a well-known criminal with a wicked sense of humor; Zayn is just the doctor who should be taking care of him, but Louis is too fascinating for his own good. (A highly-adapted Joker/Harley Quinn AU)

Where the Heaven Are We? by Gebiurl (fookin_tossah)

Louis likes weed, some weird indie band, and Zayn. Zayn likes art and not-Louis.

wasting days with you by strong

Coming in with a casual step and lazy uni student attire is a guy with a face Zayn’s got imprinted on his brain. Sullen cheeks, shifty eyes, loose tufts of brown hair falling over them from below his hood. He strolls past the front counter and down one of the aisles, checking everything out as if he doesn’t come in often enough to have it memorized.

“Need help, mate?” Zayn asks. It’s a part of their routine. I’m good, but..

“I’m good, but I’ll let you know,” the guy smiles at him, the grin never reaching his shaded eyes.

a tragically beautiful boy with blue eyes frequently steals from the store zayn works at, and zayn isn't sure what he wants to do more: help the guy out or kiss his heavenly face

Though the Stars Walk Backwards by manybumblebees

Zayn's been gone eighteen months, and the SGC have all but stopped looking for him.

One day, if Louis is very, very lucky, he’ll find a quantum mirror that’ll transport him to an alternate reality where he can call his commanding officer an idiot without losing his job.

ring of fire by countthestars

“One week,” Louis finally says, testing the words out loud. “You're giving me one week to get Zayn to kiss me in order to prove myself?” “By next week Saturday at midnight,” Liam says excitedly, like some kind of nightmare fairy godmother. “What could go wrong?” Niall adds. “I really don't want to be involved with this,” tacks on Harry. Louis' made worse choices. Probably. “You're on,” he says.

never ending math equation by liquidmeasure

Niall’s told him all about the winter. The way the snow creeps in through the cracks. The way the winds make you feel like the entire continent will be ripped up and away and tossed into the void. But that’s the bad days. Niall says on the good days, everything is still, save for the ice, and the stars flash like strobe lights and if you look up, you can see everything. You can see right through the universe. So that’s something to look forward to.

Or...Louis does science, Zayn is an enigma, Harry studies penguin poop and Niall fixes radios. Nobody knows how they feel, but Zayn knows how everyone feels.

For an office AU hate-to-lust prompt that i took a few (read: lots of) liberties with. It's sort of an office, it's just an office in Antarctica!

you came and you took this heart by styleslaurent

Louis has a pathetic crush on his daughter's teacher that he fails to hide, but when she decides to help him out, things eventually take a turn for the better.

Run It For The Cardio by PigSlay

“I was right to be nervous around you that first day.” Zayn shakes his head, laughing angrily. “But for some reason I thought it was just because I was nervous about making new friends. Nah, I knew to be nervous about the fact that you’re an annoying tool who only cares about himself and hearing himself talk.”

“Wait a minute,” Louis smiles widely. “You were nervous meeting me?” Zayn has no idea why he’s smiling so widely right now. Being nervous around someone isn’t always a good thing – it could very well mean you’re afraid the other person will rob you or something.

Or the one where Zayn and Louis meet during art class at their university and their lives are never the same again.

Life and Choices by wellthatlookslikefun

"Three hours later, Zayn is questioning both his life and his choices as he brushes ash out of his hair for the second time in as many days.

“You know,” Louis starts, poking delicately at the melted puddle that used to be his cauldron, “I think I’m getting better.” He looks up at Zayn with a faux-innocent look. Zayn just manages to hold back his laughter at Louis’ smudged face and his bright, wide-eyed expression. Louis had very bright eyes, Zayn notices."

Or the one where Zayn somehow starts tutoring Louis in potions and Niall accidentally hits Zayn with an experimental spell that messes things up for a while but then makes everything better.

we've come a long way by graceana

For the rest of the movie Louis barely pays attention. He’s too focused on the words that Harry said. They keep echoing in the back of his mind: There are people who don’t experience sexual attraction. That’s Louis. That’s what he’s got to be. He wants to know more. He wants to meet people who are like him, who know what it feels like and how confused and scared it makes him.

there are two things louis is confused about. the first is his sexuality, or lack there of? he guesses. the second is why all of a sudden he has feelings for his best friend.

prompt: ACEFIC? Louis and Zayn are best friends who hang out all the time and everyone jokes about them being in love/life partners/boyfriends. They're both so hung up on the idea that dating = sex that they're oblivious to the fact that the joke isn't really a joke maybe until one of them starts going on dates with someone else? Maybe...slowly realizing that sex isn't everything, they've been more than friends for a while and figuring some things out. Non-sexual intimacy ok? Okay!

I'm Just A Reader, You're Every Chapter by Austinattack

"Go get Louis away from that prick," Harry slurred, reaching up to poke Zayn's cheek. "And like. Kiss him. You want to. I can tell."

Zayn glared down at Harry, and shrugged his shoulder so he couldn't lean on him anymore. "Fuck off."

Harry smirked and slipped his arms around Zayn. "You do. You liiiiiiike him," he gushed, wiggling closer, while Zayn's face warmed. "You should go kiss him. You should bring him over here and kiss him all over."

"Shut the fuck up, Harry."

Zayn and Louis are uni roommates, Zayn may have a crush, and Louis can't handle it.

Soaking In The Glory Of It All by fancyachatup

Football player and single father Louis Tomlinson meets Zayn Malik, famous artist and single dad.

Louis and Zayn unknowingly go on a date with their kids and then go on a real one.

then i saw your face by countthestars

Louis snatches the picture off the fridge and retreats to the safe haven of his bedroom, stuffing it out of sight in a desk drawer where Niall can’t get his grubby hands on it. And like. So what if he refuses to throw it out? He needs evidence when he confronts Liam next week, doesn’t he? And so what if he’s spent maybe a little more time than necessary studying the pencil lines, tracing his fingers over the lead until it smears. It’s just. He never thought his face was that interesting. Never believed it could, like, inspire someone to recreate it.

or, the one in which Zayn is an art major and Louis has a hard time letting his guard down.

the cold never bothered me anyway by countthestars

Honestly, the whole super power thing is some grass is always greener bullshit. Zayn hadn't realized, before he developed a power, that it'd come with an obligation. It was sort of expected that he would dedicate his life to fighting evil.

Louis, though, he never saw coming.

Stay Quiet, Stay Near by parisienneheart

Zayn and Louis are community college skater bros on a last hurrah roadtrip along the California coastline before Zayn leaves to his transfer university. Louis harbors some angsty feelings about being left behind and realizes he might have more than friendly feelings for his best friend.

Aftermath by StormDancer

In another world, Zayn would be on the bed already, and Louis would be tasting every inch of him. He’d be writhing with pleasure, taken care of properly, shown what true pleasure can be, not just the pretense he’s probably had. He’d show Zayn that even in the camps, far away from the city glamour, there’s real pleasure. He’d have Zayn screaming his name, begging for him. In that other world, when Louis hadn’t won Zayn in a card game. When the chains around Zayn’s wrists that kept him with Louis were emotion, not gold.

two wheels of a different pair (but we're still rolling into something we don't know) by zouee

“Does it get tiring?” Louis asks, voice coming out softer than anticipated.

The response doesn’t come right away. For a moment, Louis thinks Zayn might actually be asleep; pulled under quickly despite their surroundings. Then he thinks Zayn’s making a point to ignore him and he considers leaving - the rejection making his heart sting. But in the next moment Zayn remains stone-still as he replies, mouth only moving slightly.

“What does?”

Louis turns his head, looks at him, “Pretending you don’t care.” _

When an out of town bikie storms into a restaurant placed on the outskirts, he doesn’t expect to meet the boy with bright eyes and devilish smile.

Set in the 1950’s.

you've got a pretty kind of dirty face by zouee

“what are you gonna do, zayn?” louis asks him, now noticing his lack of breath in his voice. he glances down towards zayn’s gun. “you gonna shoot me?”

louis' a bank teller and zayn's a thief.

high hopes by zouee

i know it's crazy to believe in silly things, but it's not that easy

Based off this video clip

Wicked At Midnight by Randominity

In which Louis is turned into a vampire, Nick is unhelpful, there's a rota, and everyone thinks things are going to go smoothly.

All You Have to Do by Randominity

Louis doesn't want to win Zayn over - he just wants to win.

somewhere in the night by alnima

make the world for you by alnima

“Okay, right.” Louis rolls his eyes and stabs his finger into Zayn’s wrist. “You’ve gotten like, a million new tattoos since the break up.”

“So what? I’m always getting new tattoos.”

“You’ve dyed your hair,” Louis says and Zayn runs his hands nervously over the silver hair on top of his head. It wasn’t a drastic decision or anything. And he doesn’t need Louis calling him out on it. “Just trust me, Zayn. This trip will really do you some good, okay?”

Zayn looks at his best friend and looks at the bag on the ground. It’s a crazy idea, it’s rash and absurd but maybe Louis is right. Maybe a trip around the world is just what he needs to figure out how to be Zayn again. He’s not sure himself, not sure about getting on a plane for hours but… He sighs, shaking his head.

“Alright. Yeah, let’s do this.”

Baby Bring Your Body by disarm_d

Zayn and Louis get stoned and switch bodies. In that order.

So Much Of The City Is Our Bodies by disarm_d

A place/ where everything too big to take apart/ had been left behind.

AU set in Toronto, Canada.

Method to the Madness by disarm_d

Louis doesn’t trust himself to know the right way to touch Zayn anymore.

your finest inspiration by carissima

His legs ache a little and he's shattered so he keeps the radio down low as he cruises through the streets until he hits the motorway. It's another two hours to London and he's got a lot of cursing at Zayn to do so he slouches down in his seat and thinks about how dumb Zayn's stupid face is.

like any real love it's ever-changing by annemari

"Do you think if I repeat 'this isn't happening' for long enough it'll make it true?" Louis asks.

The cat—Zayn—moves its tail. Louis doesn't know what that means.

"I have no idea what that means," Louis says.

Zayn turns into a cat. Louis figures some things out.

i count my steps by annemari

Zayn and Louis often play truth or dare to unwind.

Those Meddling Kids by Gorgeous Nerd (gorgeousnerd)

Zayn likes to watch the street from his own windows when he can. He likes it even better when the street watches back, and Louis's the only one to know it.

(Or: Zayn and Louis hook up in the Mystery Machine.)

only fools rush in by gravitycentered

The night feels like it moves quickly, melting away as they all get steadily drunker; Zayn watches the boys eat and laugh and shove each other around and feels suddenly very glad to be with them, incredibly lucky to have all of them to himself.

Especially you, Zayn thinks, looking over at Louis. The bar lights are dim, as usual, but there’s a dull little ceiling lamp above their table and it illuminates Louis just enough as he smiles back.

I'm the Scene, You're the Director by slashter

Zayn has yet to not get a stiffy when he sees Louis on set--just the idea of Louis being so in control of everything, shouting commands at him, walking up to him when he's in a pose and touching him everywhere, moving him around so he looks better--it's definitely somewhat of a fear boner, but in the best way possible. Honestly, he kind of wants Louis to destroy him, and that desire hasn't wavered a bit over the past two years.

[Or the one where Louis tells Zayn what to do, Zayn (usually) fights back, and neither of them can get enough of it]

You Ignite Me And I'll Ignite You by slashter

“Zayn,” Louis repeats, slightly out of breath, once he’s right in front of the boy. It’s only mildly embarrassing. “Louis,” Zayn answers, raising an eyebrow. “On your way to class?” “I--yes,” Louis stammers, then starts walking alongside Zayn. “Um, off to do more art? And stuff? That you do?” Smooth. Zayn laughs. His eyes crinkle up at the corners and Louis wants to drop-kick Harry, he’s so fucking sexually frustrated.

[Or the one where Zayn sells Louis weed and Louis definitely has much more than just a crush]

If Only You Saw What I Can See by slashter

It's almost impressive that Louis hasn't tried to see his own face in a hundred years, because Zayn doesn't know if he'd be able to go a day without looking at him.

downward facing dog by robpatFF

The yoga mat is heavier than he remembers, and dustier, and Zayn realizes it’s been a few good months since he’s been able to do this proper. Been able to stretch out his mat and stretch out his own body and feel the ache of release, the burn in his muscles as he pushes himself past the sting of it and just breathes. His fingers grip around the edge of the mat in anticipation, his shoulders already relaxing as he sets it down in the living room.

come sail away by robpatFF

The hotel faces the beach, and when Zayn looks out he can see the ocean lapping up against the shore, the distinct darkening of the sand where the tide washes in.

rise from your burning fiat by dangerbears

AU of the high school variety. louis and zayn have always been best friends and they always will be, no matter how much time they let pass.

if not the happiest, surely the luckiest by dangerbears

AU. reform boarding school for the obscenely wealthy, essentially. zayn is new and louis is hot shit.

Gravity Always Wins by writeivywrite

The truth is: if they weren’t in a band together, Zayn wouldn’t be friends with someone like Louis.

give this wandering soul a home by sunshineflying

Louis Tomlinson lives in a sleepy town in Essex, near a small uni where all his friends seem to be going – except for him. He thrives on having a social life – with his best friend Liam at his side and the cherubic new boy Harry across the street, life is good. But when autumn comes around and everyone goes off to uni, Louis starts to spiral out of control.

The feeling of being left behind never really goes away, so Louis doubles his efforts to forget, hardly sober for more than a day at a time, and yet life still goes on around him. Louis wants to grow up, he does, it’s just that it’s hard to do when the ones around him are far more successful than he is. It isn't until his mother's harsh ultimatum that Louis is brought back to a sobering reality.

Covering nearly five years, this fic follows all the characters, though Louis most of all, as they work their way through relationships, road blocks, and more coursework than they can sometimes handle to come through alright on the other side. Through a series of ups and downs, Louis and everyone else settle into lives they’re pleased with – a task that several of them didn’t think was possible to accomplish. Inspired by Skins UK.

(I love you) by softly (alexenglish)

There should be a word for a threat that is also a promise. Because that is what I want you to hold me down and do.

(buy your love by playing make believe.) by softly (alexenglish)

I would love you more if you were someone who could love me.

(quiet kisses are so hardcore) by softly (alexenglish)

I laugh along but inside I know that it’s true: Being in love is totally punk rock.

(you know that I’m no good) by softly (alexenglish)

I don’t know how to make things right. So I’ll just keep pretending that nothing’s wrong.

(You can’t start a fire without a spark.) by softly (alexenglish)

I hate trying to put my desire into words when my body knows exactly what to say. Come home.

known you in every life i've lived by leighbot

“I would guess that your magic is stronger here because your soulmate might be within the castle. Maybe your magic is trying to lead you to them.”

Zayn is a newly appointed crown prince and Louis is the first person with grey magic in the kingdom since the Founding Queen herself. Abelwick fic.

what happens in the bathroom by leighbot

Zayn just needs to relieve himself before his lecture starts, but there's someone crying in the stall and he can't just leave them upset.

the time you have wasted for your rose by leighbot

“I’m not a boy.”

“You’re a… girl?” he tries, feeling like he has the wrong answer to a test he didn’t know he was being given.

“No, I’m not a girl, either.”

“Is this a riddle, because I’m shit at riddles to be honest.”

Or, Louis and Zayn work together on a school play and learn that not everyone is as they seem.

your heaven and your oceans, too by leighbot

It usually starts the same for everyone: an uncertain glance, a hint of familiarity, a hesitant step forward and finally an overwhelming sensation of recognition as their souls connect. People have met their soulmates at both very young and very old ages, people have met their soulmates in their prime or when they’re married to someone else or even when they’re nearing their own death. The only rules of soulmates are that everyone has one and everyone meets theirs at some point in their lifetime.

Or, Louis is Emperor and Zayn is his soul mate. That simple, really.

Ice Skating by leighbot

Looking up at Louis now, his face soft and open, Zayn doesn't know how to admit that he doesn't want to feel like a fool. Instead he shakes his head ‘no’ and purses his lips, staring at the skates as if they had personally offended him.

or, the one where Zayn really doesn't want to ice skate but Louis is so pretty and smiles so wide for him and he'll try it, okay? He'll try.

its been a while by neonmoonlight

The only good thing about break is that he doesn't have to be on Twitter constantly and check what people are saying about him. He spends most of his time out on friend dates with Danielle and dodging calls from Simon. He also has more time to spend going to music festivals he's been wanting to go to for years and have a couple day holiday in Vegas.

Based off of Louis "Vegas has broken me ..." tweet.

#1 by dramaturgicallycorrect

“I know what you are,” Mueller growls.

Tommo lifts and slams him back against the bar. Zayn looks around, finds the bartender and the rest of the patrons casually minding their own. Must be business as usual in a place like this.

When Zayn looks back, there’s a knife in his hand, long and thin and shining even in the pub’s dim light. Only when Zayn looks hard enough, it’s not a knife at all but a thin blade, nor is it so much in his hand as it is protruding from it, resting dangerously at Mueller’s pulse point.

Zayn’s heart pounds. He’s a mutant.

[Or issue number one.]

all the stars were crashing by sarcangel

“We should practice,” Louis says. He’s got a faraway look in his eye that doesn’t bode well for anyone, based on Zayn’s newly-formed knowledge of Louis. “Find a place, set up a schedule, all that.”

“What?” Zayn says, not sure where the conversation is exactly headed anymore.

“You know, in a movie - like, this would be our montage sequence,” Louis says, hands everywhere, gesturing wildly. “There’d be some song playing in the background while we spar and gain strength and -”

(and lick sweat off of each other’s necks, Zayn thinks, and then you knock me to the floor and lay on me and)

“Yeah, that’d be sick,” Zayn says, instead, not knowing if he’s more surprised that anything coherent comes out of his mouth or that he’s actually agreed to Louis’ awful plan.

Blow by catholicschoolgirl

“I wonder how it feels sometimes / Must be good to you”

Alternatively: sex, drugs and feelings in the Mystery Machine.

Fangs by catholicschoolgirl

"The days that Louis had spent with Zayn were the best of his life. All 74,035 of them."

Louis loves Zayn, always has, but Zayn might want someone else. Louis does not react positively.

stumbling, looking in the dark by rilla

'Everyone always thinks Louis is just hilarious and cutting and sarcastic when he’s actually just deeply honest and doesn’t like very many things. The only person who ever believed him is Zayn, and Zayn’s long gone now.' University AU.

we've got each other and that's a lot by rilla

Louis is the first person Zayn meets at university. He's definitely trouble. Luckily, Zayn likes trouble.

Everyone Else Isn't You by rilla

'Everyone else isn't you. It turns out that's a huge problem for me.' A little bit of canon zouis, set in February 2016.

no one knows (if you don’t say the words) by words_unravel

Louis wants one last winter holiday with the boys and Zayn's never been one to tell him no.

Would you let me be your world? by geewhizmo

Louis moves to a new city to start college. Her roommate, Zayn, is attractive, intriguing, and totally out of her league.

This was going to be an interesting year.

Make Up Your Heart by FallingLikeThis

You know that saying? Something about not knowing what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone?

Yeah, well fucking fuck that shit, okay?

It’s hard enough losing something, someone, without having that piece of shit sentiment thrown at you from every angle as you grieve. Or punch things. Louis has a tendency to punch things. Or kick things. Like his football. Only he imagines it’s Zayn’s stupid, beautiful, disloyal face.

#zouis #to read #one direction #1d #mine

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libidomechanica · 3 years

Text

Untitled Composition # 8649

—O whistle though youre dubbed knights, the

pastures be, and so consummation of a day the timely, nothing

to the marigold at home to ye, my lad. In praises, Or (as rhymes to “ love;” but Im right; Thy career is nearest. by a look at me. in both man and my success, but as for chastity,

youllhave a letters plain there is in mind and mellow breathing style which the soft and broke

my heart at bottom virtuous mermaids yellow pride of the world and grew like weeds, and while as yet ’“t is so every day; and soundly sleeps in their wives, the harp of Life— one little—t was in

this book, and turns to thee, perforce am thine and heart, I said, ‘He was quite necessary to

fire I must awake to human eye could not mine owne fate I could scarce knew not her for the standards of the Spring

a young unmarried ones that when the western things, mines beyond all in rest.’ One Night wets me all night keep the gateways of his fellow,—who can!

Immortality. I could render double. Seeping its water entering and me, curled like love when clouds do blot the sun in flight, and is worth a miller with them to whom my soul once burned her heard melodies and scattring

glasse): but one worse affliction in him a goodly guardian of these walls? And then yong, his pack of Travel son or Daughters welcome shock: his

air, exposed him and his much grieve;

that it closed, as compose more than pleasant shepherd, or the supplicator being merely speculative hit, but where a young as he passd

to Night, and joined a troop Now come nae unless my face than the

green-sward now has broken chord. of soldiers

life. Until we ceased to drink, a

spiders here, in that undulant white nor scarlet cloak (I hate the cooler air the old man that then? And the unreturning for months gone. )— But into his

wants to be seen— but

aye she lookd more weak in seemly order, and

of silks are merely compellant, certes, the Curse of Better Women, what appear like one with

the darksome way; which its

calm ravisher the flower

hear my mother an a should a tear be in them who are fair art thou, my rose; in it thou wert,

I can, I will listend spring when ye come to ye, my lad. A human race capture all but design to jest, yourself for five, four, three, or

two others do stur; in the public

hedge hath ceased: he saw each ancient line, in the king attacking, and I admired, the garden tools; and we missed or mocked; therefore Juan now began to expresse Nights side the gold that nestling light loves loneness best, and the spring, and leases, by which done, that she was upon that throb that leads the common lose their papers with a new land, which is most balmy time: for whom she had disappeared

as chearfulness, a look, or singularity: now there are out the

Man persistent as a Jehovahs Witness. For the sparrow on the face that place, Timbuctoo, theres an hour to consume the fat; breath blew bubbles. And

an old newspaper, humdrum, lawsuit upon the sight did lend for evermore he thought of my weak senses all a-blaze, while her pipe in

green leaves a heart torments only

gods should be thy Lover, and a little power in Thee vain are the

meditative of all his couch; he meditations burning into metaphysics, though he plains, and then he walks from the foot-way path called before I shrug on them tete-

a-tete. though natural water, My grief; Of two things be, a lone should fail. came over the wind even at the clanging face; and bending from the forsaken; a torment you? I earned no more! Trampling on this no Gordian knot, whose

rich flowers fresh batches— all see some person [ ]

appeared. I leave ere long. Which

he was as he himself in two. Of tender void since it had no

wish to see display, yet could seize the riddle of epic Loves breast.”

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #134 texts

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hrrytomlinson · 7 years

Photo

here are a bunch of fucking fantastic fics I’ve enjoyed and loved reading throughout the month of october. I recommend that you read these great fics in november, if you haven’t already!! also check out the Reverse Big Bang and 31 Days of Smut!

(all fics with a star are my favorites and if there are two stars then it was a favorite favorite)

1. Damn the Dark, Damn the Light 20k

“Why is this face of beauty ringing so true?” The genuine confusion in Harry’s voice causes Louis’ chest to painfully twinge. “You’re a complete stranger in my eyes, William Shakespeare, but not in my heart. How is that possible?”

Louis wants to live out every romance plot he has ever written in his own life. He wants to be the protagonist of his own narrative, the hero who finds true love and gets his happy ending. Instead, Louis is stuck with only dreaming of such wild fantasies and writing them down. He can create entire romances in his dreams, yet he can never live one.

2. Threadbare 20k**

Harry Styles was eight years old when Louis Tomlinson kept him from falling into a machine in a Manchester textile mill. He was 18 years old when nothing, not even the threat of death, could keep Harry from falling in love with Louis.

3. Don’t Come Down 6k

Louis takes Harry home to meet the family.

4. I’ll Take Your Pain 2k*

Or, soulmates have the ability to feel each other's pain, and Harry finds his after getting his arse waxed.

5. We'll Never Be Lonely in the Dark 6k

Detective Louis Tomlinson keeps getting blocked when he tries to use his psychic gift to locate a missing child. One late night he manages to get through but instead of finding who he's looking for he lands in the bedroom of a mysterious man.

Harry Styles, nursing student, baker, and all around exhausted medium, thinks he's having the best sex dream he's ever had when his fantasy man shows up in his subconscious. But is that really what's going on?

6. Aquarius 6k

Louis realises he's slept with a man of every star sign except for Aquarius, and that just won't do.

7. Forget-Me-Not 26k**

“I- I can't move” the elder one finally croaked out, and with more distress Harry came to see that the vines had wrapped itself around the lad's ankles.

With a dumb nod Harry took a couple of steps forward. He could see Louis flinch with his sudden movement but he tried not to think about it. Instead, he lifted his hands, and tried his best to concentrate, hoping his power would listen to him just this once around the other man and untie him.

Ever so slowly, the vines started to detach themselves from Louis's calves, and soon enough, the man was free. With shaking legs, Louis stood up from the position he was in, and suddenly the air around them got thicker. “You're- you're a witch.” Louis hissed under the harsh wind, making Harry flinch at the accusation in his voice.

Or, where Harry had something he did not wish to have. Louis was just trying to figure him out.

8. Gem and the Hunters: The Treasure of Babylon 34k**

Louis Tomlinson wished, for one thing, his whole life: to find the ancient city of Babylon. After one failed attempt, he swore to never again attempt a search for the city. His friend, Niall Horan never pushed the issue, but when his family finds themselves in trouble, Niall’s only option is to convince Louis to try and find Babylon again.

Niall enlists the help of two famous treasure hunters: Harry and Gemma Styles and their friend Liam Payne. Harry and Gemma love ancient cultures as much as Louis and would give anything to find Babylon. Liam is just along for the ride, running from a shade in his past.

The five embark on the adventure of a lifetime… and find much more than any of them bargained for.

9. I Never Did Believe in the Ways of Magic (Through I’ve a Feeling It’s Time to Try) 54k*

Louis can’t shake the feeling that there’s something in the woods, pressing close and watching him with a heavy gaze. It makes him antsy, fills him with jitters. He wants to run, or scream, but he knows to do so would only put him in danger if there’s actually something out there after all. He’s sure he’s just imagining it, but his heart nevertheless pounds in his throat.

When Louis Tomlinson goes on a songwriting retreat to the Laurentian Mountains of Canada, this isn't how he expects his evening to go.

Or the au where Louis is a singer who has been cursed to never make music again and Harry is a reclusive witch of the Canadian mountains who's going to help him break the curse.

10. Cancel Your Reservations, No More Hesitations 10k

Louis still has his eyes on the bill when he barges into Harry’s room without knocking because he doesn’t want to get evicted and the smell hits him first.

It’s overly sweet and unnatural, and his stomach drops because it smells like an omega. Louis eyes widen and he looks up and - Harry’s on his hands and knees, a half spilled bottle of synthetic omega slick next to him and a huge, knotted dildo pressing into his hole. Harry’s face is flushed and he looks fucked-out and -

“I’m sorry!” Louis squeaks out and quickly backtracks, face red, because he wasn’t supposed to see that and Harry’s an alpha but he - Louis isn’t going to judge him.

Louis is an alpha and so is Harry, but Louis helps him through his rut anyway.

11. Foothold 18k

Louis has crossed the galaxy with a ship full of crystals; they’re the only thing he has to offer in exchange for safe harbor. He thought getting to his destination would be the hardest part, hoping that once he got his family to safety everything would fall back into place; Louis struggles to adapt while his sisters thrive. Louis suspects Emperor Styles may have something to do with it.

12. Don’t Want Shelter 76k*

Louis and Harry have known each other all their lives. Friends as children, they danced around each other as teenagers, and have spent the last twenty-five years either screaming at each other or not speaking at all. Except for that one time ten years ago…

When Hurricane Nicole threatens the coast, they end up stuck together in their families' old vacation home that they begrudgingly co-own.

During the storm, and in the months after, they’re both forced to reevaluate their history and what they mean to each other.

13. Wasted Like a Memory 4k

Six years before Hurricane Nicole forces Louis and Harry together, Fizzy gets married. Harry wrestles with reconciling the different versions of Louis he knows. (Part of Don’t Want Shelter)

14. Taste and Plead 3k

Or, the one where Harry wants something, and Louis' never been one to deny his boy anything.

15. Home For Christmas 22k**

The Shameless Hallmark Movie AU you probably didn't ask for.

Or, the one where Harry didn't think he wanted a family, but with a little Christmas magic (and maybe one Louis Tomlinson) he realizes that he is very, very wrong.

16. A Million Stars 2k

Louis watches Harry perform at the Tower Theater, and the events of the night unfold in an unexpected manner.

17. No One Like You 19k**

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.

18. Howls Like A Beast (You Flower, You Feast) 16k*

France, 1754. Château de Versailles.

“You don’t love me,” Louis had said, utterly blasé as he callously fractured the heart of a Harry that was just barely eighteen.

“I do,” Harry had insisted pleadingly, green eyes already watering.

Louis had rolled his eyes, exasperated and flippant in the way only beautiful, young boys could be when faced with the affections of a baby prince. He had run his finger down Harry’s cheek then, had forced him to look into his eyes as he delivered the final blow.

“You’ll change your mind once you’ve seen more of the world,” Louis had teased, pressing a brutally delicate kiss onto Harry’s lovely, pure cheek. “Once you’ve been properly defiled.” He had whispered filthily, delighted by the gasp he heard, the frantic pink blush that had rested high on Harry’s cheeks, the power he had felt at knowing he could make the Crown Prince squirm.

19. You Flower, You Feast 18k**

He's King of the Underworld, but don't assume Louis has it all. He could stand for some excitement in his monotonous, eternal life and maybe, even.....a soulmate.

(Despite not having a soul.)

And along came "Harry".

20. The Dead Things We Carry 25k*

September ‘49

He hasn’t seen him since that day in France, that horrible muddy day where for one terrifyingly long second, Louis really thought he was going to die. He winces with the phantom pain, the hand not holding his cane going to his stomach automatically, remembering the franticness, the tenderness, of Harry’s hands while Louis was bleeding out. This is the man who saved Louis’ life.

For one second, Louis fears Harry won’t recognise him, but his eyes widen when he turns to his left and they meet Louis’. He takes a step forward, reaching for him with a shaky hand before stopping himself.

“Louis,” Harry says with a shudder and Louis doesn’t think his name has ever carried more weight. This is the only man Louis ever thought about kissing for real.

“Oh,” Mrs. Padley says, clearly taken aback. “You two know each other?”

There are some things people never fully come home from. Until, one day, if they’re lucky, home comes to them.

21. Do You Like My Sweater 13k

When Harry's alpha fraternity decides to host a Sadie Hawkins dance, outspoken omega Louis has a thing or two to say about it.

22. Yellow 84k**

The city of Gotham turns blood red with a new, mysterious criminal element, a beautiful woman named the Blind Cupid. She threatens to tear the fabric of the city apart, aided by her deadly protégé, the Cat. Can Batman stop them? Will he resist the bewitching allures of the Cat?

A Batman/ Catwoman AU

23. Things That Go Hump in the Night 6k

Louis goes camping. Something horrible happens. Louis is miserable.

It’s science.

24. This Thing Upon Me (Howls Like a Beast) 8k

Harry and Louis weren’t meant to be together. They’d met when they were put together through their university’s AO MatchUp, a program that set up alphas and omegas based on the schedules of their ruts and heats so they had someone to help them through it. It was pure luck that they were put together.

25. Hands Clasped Tight 44k**

Or the one where Harry and Louis are high school teachers and their students have been playing matchmaker for over a year. Little do they know, Harry and Louis are already married.

26. And the Truth Shall Set You Free (...Maybe) 17k

Betism: A religion based on the belief that the beta gender has been chosen by God to protect and defend the purity and dignity of the human race by resisting and condemning the lustful ways and flawed biology of the alpha and omega

Harry is a Betist and Louis is an alpha who runs with a bad crowd. This is what happens when two worlds collide.

27. (We Will Be) As If Chosen 35k**

There's not a royal in the world who doesn't carry some sort of secret, and Prince Louis has more than his fair share. To protect himself and his family, Louis withdrew from the public eye and tried to live a quiet life, biding his time until his sister Lottie could take the throne in his stead. Unfortunately for him, the national media and the worst person Louis has ever met team up to bring him kicking and screaming back into the spotlight.

Under the watchful eyes of millions, Louis has to figure out how to keep his carefully constructed house of cards from falling, and the first step to accomplishing that is to keep from falling in love with the irritatingly charming Prince Harry, who just won't stop showing up and trying to whisk Louis out of the constraints of his boring life.

Or: the course of true love never did run smooth, because sometimes people are stubborn and sometimes people are scared and sometimes, just sometimes, love can cause just as many problems as it solves.

28. It’ll Be 13k

Louis has always wanted children and he decides he's done waiting for love to come first. However, after adopting a baby girl just days after she's born, he quickly realizes how hard parenting is. Louis hires Harry to be his Nanny, and it all works out great. Until Louis falls in love with him.

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