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thesamoanqueen · 8 months

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Nothing left

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: smut, jealousy, errors.

A/N: As we said here, leave your hands at home.

She loved their room. Maybe she would take a picture to put on her phone, frame and look at in moments of despair, because she didn't want to get out of there.

With a deep breath, she took off her heels abandoning them under a chair, while already she slipped off her earrings and the whole package. Behind her, it took Roman longer just to close the door, but Y/N had already taken over the bathroom to fix her hair and change. It had been one of the busiest mornings of her life and it was absurd considering that for years she had followed the pace of two rosters during the PLEs and the weekly routine. She hadn't had to run around endless hallways that day, the headphones hadn't stuck to her ears, there hadn't been any change of plans, no one to call in hurry, staff and technicians had been helpful, even offering Y/N her favorite frozen mango lemonade smoothie. They were so nice, but she liked the hotel room better. She needed a break.

- Have you changed your mind? Is it not a good opportunity? - she heard Roman ask from the room, finishing unbuttoning her dress to replace it with something more cozy.

They were not talking about a four am program, he watched it too when at home.

- It's a great opportunity Ro, for the company and above all for you - she obviously noticed, receiving a strange look, when she came out of the bathroom - it will give you visibility, it will increase your stats, it will help establish you on a wider audience and that’s the long-term goal for the future, even if you will boycott it with your list.

Standing next to the table, Roman cracked a smile taking the blow as she lay back on the bed, laptop already open on her legs, in what in a few minutes had become her personal sprint to shut the rest of the world out for at least a couple of hours.

- Is that why you are not happy to go to the studio? For my list?

Oh no, she was happy about that. Everyone out there seemed unable to get him to talk about anything other than his titles. At least they had found a compromise to please the company while still supporting him as more than the face of WWE.

- You can make all the lists and smiles you want, to whoever you want, don't worry. Do your things - she reassured him, opening the report to be sent to the executives for the following day's appointment.

Biting the corner of her lip, fingers racing across the keyboard, she finished in record time with a couple of randomly thrown standard phrases too, but she couldn't concentrate quite as well on emails, Roman staring thoughtfully at her without moving from one inch.

- What's up? - she asked, however, avoiding taking her eyes off the screen.

- You're not jealous – he threw out of blue and Y/N took a break to look at him this time.

Of course she wasn't. She wasn't that kind of woman. She didn't make a scene, she didn't get angry, she had learned to distinguish who deserved her attention and her precious time, she had survived a year of nothing with her head high and had been repaid with a perfect relationship, she knew what value she had for him and what value she had herself. She didn't low down to those levels, they even joked, she had compiled a list of the most obscene and hilarious comments about him found on the web.

- What should I be jealous of? - she asked.

Because she was really curious to know what made him suspect that her desire to go back to the hotel, get the boring work done quickly to have some time to relax and maybe be ready for a night out in a city that offered a million opportunities to celebrate those small successes, without having to worry about shots, uncomfortable or trivial questions, suits and skintight dresses, people who treated her as if they had been homies and greeted him with hugs that not even their coworkers dared, was for jealousy.

His phone, lying on the table next to the welcome note, rang when Roman had just shook his head and Y/N knew that it would be the end if her eyes hadn't locked there for a second too long. And she also knew that he had noticed it, but they would have not talk about that nonsense. Because it was stupid, meaningless and she wasn't jealous.

She went back to work on her laptop, ignoring him as he reached out to pick it up and Y/N opened the email, ending up ignoring even the latest updated communications from the program for the following day and scrolling through it. Roman glanced at her again, quickly, but Y/N forced herself to stay focused until he left the phone to go to the bathroom too. She took a deep breath as soon as she was sure he was out of range and she mentally forced herself to regain control.

It had only been a moment, perhaps because of this new set-up, all those changes, she really had nothing to stop and think about. Even if that hug had been a bit too much and… no, she had to stop thinking about it!

When Roman came out with his inseparable tracksuit to lie down next to her, Y/N was still with her laptop, gaze focused on some shots sent as pre-show tests.

- I would never do it, you know – he reminded her after a few seconds of silence, making her stomach do a flip.

Yes, she knew it… she trusted Roman more than anyone and she never doubted him for a second. She hadn't even doubted that morning actually, she was just… annoyed, but not for him. The truth was that Y/N had only wanted to go back to the hotel because it was simpler and because she didn't feel right fighting with a woman like her, although perhaps she could have since it were her hands that had been on him longer than necessary. But practically nothing had happened and Roman had went back to Paul's side as soon as possible.

- I know, I'm not the jealous one here – she reminded to both him and herself, while he was playing with his watch.

She had also had a moment, yes, but him… oh, he was a league on his own! Y/N had stopped counting before they even decided to put a name to their relationship, the times it happened. It was pathological.

- I value what belongs to me. I don't take you for granted - he returted seriously, no doubt in his voice and Y/N found herself staring at the screen, her stomach freezing this time.

Roman was a man, not a boy. He knew how to take care, respect and support her, he treated her as the only thing that really mattered and what would have been a flaw on anyone else, on him looked terribly sexy. And she always fell for it, without exception. Especially after spending the morning, trying to fight off the mood at having seen too many hands on her man.

- You're unbearable when you do that – she snorted, closing the laptop to leave it on the bedside table and climb on Roman without hesitation.

With a smug grin, Roman helped her into position, eyes searching for her, as she reserved the same fate as her laptop for his watch, fighting then with the zipper of his hoodie.

- Don't you want to know what time is our reservation? – he chuckled hoarsely, hinting at the message received minutes before and helping her anyway when she quickly stripped him of his shirt as well, her hands sliding down his chest to stop on his shoulders.

- I already know, I chose it - she murmured against his mouth, biting his grin.

Jealousy was for those who lacked confidence, not for them. She wasn't jealous. In that relationship, born out of nowhere and raised between dates at unthinkable times, meetings in lockerooms and buses, calls and messages from everywhere, mental and physical breakdowns, nights spent sleeping and mornings of sex followed by doubts, she shared more than the path with Roman. She had discovered that she was as possessive as he was, because she valued, them. What they were building together was everything to her and she wasn't willing to lose it or let someone ruin it.

She felt Roman hold her, hands sliding up her hips, keeping her pressed against him, as they deepened their sloppy kiss and Y/N ran her fingers over his chest. The rapid beat of his heart slammed under her fingertips, warmth surrounding and encouraging her to move, grinding against his pants which she had merely undone. He was solid beneath her, ready to let her control even though his tongue had already won their fight. Knowing that he belonged to her, to have power over him, to be the only one to have his attention and to be able to have him like no one else out there thought was an injection of confidence that excited and pushed her to reclaim what belonged to her and her only.

His big hands had worked their way through her soft clothes, stroking her hips, touching her skin, ass, eyes glued to hers as she slowly traced every inch of his torso after pulling away from the kiss. With the taste of him still in her mouth, she reached down to kiss one pec and then the other, working her way up to his neck, his beard pinching her cheeks as she licked the jugular then bit his ear, feeling him pull her up to place her on his boner now awake. She rocked on top of him, feeling him hard against her center, his hands moving up under her shirt lifting her breasts and hers going down instead, moving his pants down. Slowly biting the skin of his neck, Y/N took it in her hand, squeezing his meat just enough to feel Roman stiffen, his breath catching in his throat, her tongue stopping under his ear, merely tasting his skin, sensing the blood pressure without marking him.

- I don't need to do it… - she whispered, nail scratching his already wet tip -...not this time either... -she added, rubbing up and down until she drew a hot breath from him - ... right? - she asked, placing an innocent kiss on his full lips before leaning down and taking something else into her mouth.

A low, rough growl filled the room as she ran her tongue over his vein, feeling the flesh throb, the taste of it overpowering as she slid it against her palate until it touched her throat, in that one smooth motion she'd been busy to learn. She liked the feel of it pulsing against her tongue, his hand gripping her hair and indulging in the slow movement of her head, before curling into a needy caress as he struggled to fight the instinctive thrusts. Y/N loved seeing him close his eyes, his breathing getting heavy every time her lips licked the tip, sucking out all the air in his lungs to make him pulse.

-Ain't going anywhere babygirl – Roman panted, licking his lips, biting the lower one when she slid her fingers over the sensitive skin to scratch and free him – do what you want-

She let it slam against his bare stomach, a trail of spit and precum dripping onto his skin, those dark curls driving her crazy. Getting up on her knees, Y/N locked her eyes on him and threw away the extra clothes, remaining only with the shirt that soon ended up covering him too, when she slipped it into her soft hot folds. Her body greeted him with an almost sigh of relief which he returned low and dangerous, their bodies warming and melting like every time they did it.

She had fucked every kind of man in her life. But with Roman it wasn't even sex, with him it had always been more than that. Everything in him seemed made to slip inside her and mix, it was a loss of consciousness, something shared back, something unique that made her feel at peace, in her place. Her place was with him and his with her.

Nails digging into his torso, she slowly, unhurriedly rocked her hips, his now-rigid erection spreading her deeply, never letting go as her butt lifted.

- Mmh… keep it slow, like that… yes, thats it – he approved hoarsely and Y/N reversed the movement, guiding him inside her in that weak gasp which was setting both of them on fire.

Her caramel skin itched, thighs taut and soon her shirt became a torture, one Roman took care to make worse by sliding his hands down her side, catching a dark nipple between his fingers to turn it over and make her moan with a cry. Y/N ducked a little, her center filled with his flesh, as she flattened against him resting where someone else's hands had been that morning. Her mind clouded by the arousal brought back the memory, clear and her hips instinctively moved, without increasing the pace, only deepening the thrusts until Roman slammed against her sweet spongy spot.

They could make jokes, imagine, try even, but no one would have what she had. No one would feel him tightening his grip on her hips, throb from the grips of her body, know what it was like to burn, as the sweat trickled down her back, between her shoulder blades and up to the curve of her round ass from his thrusts or the kisses he left on her skin. No one would see the bleary, hungry gaze he gave her as her eyes lowered to seek him, the heat building more and more at the bottom of her belly.

- You're so good for me… so good inside me… ahn!

- Take it… le-mme hear those pretty sounds yes

His hand slid under her shirt again, this time without searching for her breast, his thumb digging into her wet folds, where their bodies joined to rotate slowly around the button of nerves she had rubbed against him until that moment. The contact sent a sharp shiver on her body, and Y/N dropped her head back, moans becoming almost cries as her back arched, giving Roman more room. Everything in her was burning, relentlessly, slowly, consuming her down to her toes, making her melt on him in a mess of moods and sweat. With an effort from his abs, Roman sat up, a big strong arm sliding behind her, pulling her close to him, his finger moving slowly and forcefully between her folds. The desire to kiss him made her almost cling to his neck, getting up again a little on her knees, helping him in that last run that had filled the whole room with their smell and the sound of their bodies clashing. One thrust, another, like a carousel she never wanted to get off, until the heat became too much and Y/N felt it explode suddenly, making her squeeze around Roman's stiff shaft, letting his name rush desperately from her lips to be swallowed up by the kisses he never spared.

There was nothing left in her mind, except that feeling of peace and satisfaction that only being with him could give her, that drained and recharged her as soon as his arms tightened around her, when her body welcomed his limitless lunges and his seed, which filled her like a mark that no one else had granted and that no one else but her deserved.

She rested her cheek in his hair, his face buried in the crook of her neck in an embrace that was everything to her. New York and its frantic pace couldn't take that away from her. Nobody could do it.

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violetarks · 2 years

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anything fluff about roy mustang beacause i read your wearing his clothes AND IT WAS SOOO GOODD

pretty

anime: fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood

character: roy mustang

summary: maybe he shouldn't have let y/n go drinking with havoc.

warnings: g/n! reader, second person pov, drunk y/n, SHORTER THAN I WOULD'VE WANTED???

"Baby, watch your step."

"I know where I'm going, Roy." The heel of your shoe misses the porch stairs. "I know where I'm going."

Roy rolls his eyes, turning to you and fixing the scarf — his scarf — around your neck. You sniff at the cold wind of the night, digging your chin into the material surrounding you. He clasps your hand in his again and fishes out his keys. The last thing he needed was you hungover and sick tomorrow morning. He knows he'd get an earful if that were the case, just you going on about how much pain you were in.

Now that he thinks about it, Roy regrets letting you go with Havoc out to a bar, since the man wanted help getting some numbers and Y/N was his little helper. The two were madly drunk by the time Roy was called, slurring your words and laughing at the slightest things Havoc mumbled to you. The both of you sounded like hyenas.

When picked up from the street of the bar, he notices the two of you. Your jacket is lazily thrown on, half hanging off your shoulder with messy hair. Jean's suit pants have alcohol stains. To go along with that, a few red lipstick marks on his face. At the sight of you two's best friend, you both cheer and chant for your saviour, out in the middle of the street at the late of night. Roy had never been so ashamed to be a designated driver.

You waltz through the doorway, sluggishly leaning against Roy with your arms wrapped around his waist. He drags you in first and turns on the lights before going in himself. The radio was still on in the kitchen, as he was in the middle of making himself a snack when he got a call from the bar's phoneline. It's quiet, but enough for you and Roy to set yourselves into the familiar setting.

"You're so pretty, Mustang..." You huff out, voice muffled as you dig your head into his shoulder. The recognisable scent of his cologne allows you to relax even easier. Roy closes and locks the door, resting a hand on your back. You can feel his fingers tap against your jacket. "Missed you a lot today."

"I dropped you off at the bar, stupid." He mumbles, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. In return, you look back at him and move closer, connecting your lips with his for a short moment. When it passes, you resume your spot against him. "I missed you too. Did you eat?"

You nod your head against his shoulder. He feels thankful that Jean made sure to grab a bite while you both were out.

"What did you eat, sweetheart?" He hums out, bringing them both to the kitchen with the light on. Pulling out a chair, he sets you down with a glass of water at the table. He finishes his snack from before, offering some as he sits across from you.

It's quite obvious that you were still in the mood to have conversation with whoever would listen. Luckily, Roy loved hearing your voice, so it didn't pose any kind of problem to him.

You retort, tapping your fingers against the wood of the table, "Mm... Jean got mango cubes after some girl bribed him with them to leave her alone..." A laugh leaves from you, which makes Roy smile. "'N we ate with Hawkeye when she told us she was finished running tasks. Oh, and I had pasta. I love Hawkeye, she's so nice to me."

"That's good, now I won't have you whining about being hungry when we go to bed." Roy claims, putting his dishes away and running fingers through his dark hair. He thanks Hawkeye for looking after everyone in the unit and not just the Colonel himself. He wouldn't trust anyone else to look after Y/N in times like this.

Looking over to you, your holding your chin in your palm, head swaying a few ways before nearly falling onto the table. You shake awake again, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

"How about we go to sleep now?" He offers, knowing how quickly you would burn out at around this time.

You stand, spreading out your hands to engulf your boyfriend in a hug. Warmth, that is what you are looking for. And Roy is right there to provide it for you.

"You should've come along with us tonight." You tell him, smiling as Roy wraps his arms around your neck and hold you just as tight, "Jean got two drinks poured over him, by different girls. And it was so funny seeing him ask all these women for their number."

Roy chuckles, pushing the hair covering your face away, "It sounds like you had a fun time helping Havoc get a lady."

"He didn't get shit." Is your reply, all mumbled and nearly incomprehensible, "Poor man, huh? Maybe you're the problem."

He raises a brow at you once again, titling his head. "Oh, me? I'm what's wrong?" He laughs, pulling you towards the bedroom. You follow him easily, not showing any signs of retaliation, "What did I ever do?"

You allow him to take off your overcoat and put it on the hanger, back in the closet. A sigh leaves your lips once he places your sleeping attire beside you. "Because you steal every single person Jean has his eyes on. And you're too pretty." You explain to him lazily, having him pull your shirt off and replace it quickly.

He does the same with your pants, allowing you to lay back on the bed and close your eyes, tired. "So I'm too pretty now?" He hums, amused by your statement. You nod your head. "Does that upset you, my dear?"

"Yes." You grumble out, watching him put away your used clothes and begin to change himself, "People stare too much."

Once finished, Roy climbs into bed with you, pulling the blankets over your colder form. He turns off the lamp on your bedside table, and leans to press a kiss to your forehead. "They don't matter, especially not when I'm too busy staring at you." He hums, feeling your eyelashes tickle his cheek.

"That's creepy, Roy." You tell him, arms going around his waist as you snuggle up against him. A laugh makes his chest rumble. You lean in more into your boyfriend.

"All I'm doing is appreciating your beauty, my love." He retorts, brushing a finger along your cheek as he hugs you back, "Now, get a good sleep. I'll make you breakfast in the morning."

"I love you, Roy." You mutter, looking back at him with a small smile.

His cheeks warm and he leans to satisfy you with a kiss on the lips, sweeter and somehow even more lovely than the one before. "I love you too, Y/N."

#roy mustang #roy mustang x reader #mustang #mustang x reader #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist x reader #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood x reader #fma #fma x reader #fmab #fmab x reader

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bl4cktourmaline · 5 months

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jenoptimist · 3 years

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you may have only gotten half a pudding cup but you got yourself a real life Disney Prince, so who’s the real winner?

✮ Pairing: kunhang x reader (gender neutral)

✮ Genre: fluff

✮ Word count: 5.8k

♡ Yakult says: hendery!!!!in!!glasses!!!!!!! pls i love him sm 🥲

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There was a phone number in you calculus textbook that you were one hundred percent sure you never wrote down. Not that you could, anyway, considering that it was a library book. Well, no, techincally you could write it in but you wouldn’t dare. The longer you stared at the handful of digits, the more you freaked out. You absolutely could not afford to be fined! The whole reason why you borrowed it from your college library was so that you didn’t have to spend money in the first place!

After gathering your materials and stuffing them into your bag, you hurriedly left your local library. You fished your phone out of your pocket, scrolled through your – admittedly pathetically short – list of contacts and called the person who you suspected wad the source of your small dilemma.

“‘Sup?” Yangyang greeted.

“Be honest with me,” you said seriously, immediately cutting to the chase, “were you the one who wrote the number?”

There was a beat of silence, and then, “what number?”

“You know,” you urged as you neared the apartment complex that the two of you lived in. “The one in my calculus textbook? I borrowed it from the college library and I don’t want to get into shit if they find it.”

“That wasn’t me!”

“Oh really?” You asked in disbelief as you hopped into the elevator and punched the number to your floor. After what you dubbed as, ‘The Spaghetti Incident of 2018’ you could never be too sure with him. When he replied that he didn’t, you asked him another two times. Throughout your friendship with Yangyang, you found that the trick to getting him to admit the truth was to keep badgering him until he either: got fed up or thought that whatever he did was no longer funny.

“I swear on my Hot Wheels!”

You hummed in consideration. His Hot Wheels collection was his utmost pride and joy - second only to his large sneaker collection - especially since he owned a handful of exclusive and rare ones. They were all displayed neatly on several shelves on one of the walls in his bedroom. They were even color coordinated and everything! Sometimes, when you went to offer him some food, you found him staring at them with a wide smile, his eyes full of admiration.

“Oh,” you frowned as you grabbed your keys from your jacket pocket but before you could slot your key into the lock, the door opened. Yangyang, the dork, greeted you over the phone even though he stood in front of you, a boyish grin displayed on his face. You rolled your eyes, not able to smother your smile as you hung up and stepped inside, locking the door behind you. It was noticeably warmer than usual and the apartment smelled if something toasty, which only meant one thing. “Pizza?” You guessed confidently.

Just as he gave you an affirmative, the oven began beeping to signal that it was finished. As Yangyang brought everything to the coffee table in front of your couch, you slipped off your shoes, dropped your bag and shrugged your coat off. While he cut the pizzas into almost even slices, you grabbed two cans of soda from the fridge.

Although it was still piping hot, you couldn’t help but take big bites. Your slice of doughy goodness was diminished within seconds. Solving calculus problems did thay to you. It was your least favorite module of the semester and brought on a headache whenever you left your lectures.

“This is so good.” You remarked as you took another slice. You loved a good margherita from Dominos but there was nothing like a frozen pizza from your local supermarket—the additives was probably what made it delicious, the cheap price just happened to be a bonus. Yangyang definitely felt the same, seeing as how the two of you devoured both pizzas within minuts, silence taking over the room.

You took a sip of your soda after popping open the top. “I”–you didn’t like the mischief that danced in uour room-mate’s eyes–“dare you to call the number.”

In your haste to swallow it, the soda passed through your throat uncomfortably, as if it were a large stone. “Nuh-uh.” You said with a shake of your head. There was absolutely no way you were going to call that number! You were just going to forget that it was even there. Or maybe you would return the book and hope that the next unfortunate student who will borrow it would be the one to pay whatever fine they had for ‘defacing public property’, as the college liked to call it. You didn’t know how many people had a calculus module in their course but you sure hoped that it was a large number.

“Awh come on, y/n!” At the firm shake of your head, he folded his arms and pouted slightly. A moment of silence passed and then, “I’ll give you a twenty.”

You took another sip of your soda as you mulled it over. “How about a ten and your last mango pudding cup for a text?”

Yangyang sucked a breath through his teeth. “That’s a tough bargain.” You shrugged, he hogged the other five pudding cups for himself so if he really wanted you to call this mystery person, he would have to give up the remaining one. “Okay, what if I give you fifteen and we split the pudding cup.”

“Better than nothing.” You conceeded after a second of thinking it over.

Yangyang’s grin stretched from ear to ear as he held out his hand for you to take. Once you shook it, the two of you quickly cleaned up. Not even ten minutes later, the last pudding cup and two spoons were on the table along with the textbook, opened on the page with the number on it. Yangyang leaned closer to your shoulder, his head practically resting on top of yours as he watched you type in the number and text.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

hey! i found ur number on a textbook i borrowed from the library so i thought i’d say hi i guess?

“Now we wait.” Yangyang said as he returned to his seat and opened the pudding cup. He handed you your spoon and the two of you dug in, eventually fighting for the last bit.

The reply came when you and Yangyang were watching Into The Spiderverse. Neither of you paused the movie when you heard the notification sound your phone let out—you had seen it countless times; twice when it was in cinemas and every so often whenever it was on Netflix.

You were slightly nervous about the reply, which was silly considering that you didn’t even know the person, but you opened up the text anyway so that it would be over and done with.

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Hi. My friend just told me he wrote it in there before I transferred. I’d be grateful if you could rub it out or use correction tape to get rid of it. Also, please delete my number.

You pursed your mouth at the response. It wasn’t as if you were hoping to be best friends or anything but the prospect of befriending someone had definitely excited you. You had college friends but that was liferally what they were: friends who you only saw in college. None of them hung out with you outside of college and whenever you did offer, they would either say yes to humour you – which, unfortunately, was blatantly obvious – or came up with an excuse. Which sucked, for obvious reasons but you would survive. The only people you had actually managed to successfully befriend were Yangyang (because he was looking for a room-mate at the time) and his best friend, Dejun.

“Uh-oh,” came Yangyang’s voice. “What did they say?” He was quick to read the text after you turned your phone to show him the screen. “Whoever it is, they’re very, um,” he paused for a moment while he thought of a fitting description, scratching his head, “grammatically correct?” At your nod of agreement, he added, “at least he said ‘please’.”

You shrugged as you typed a quick reply. “I guess.”

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

sure thing

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Thank you.

The two of you refocused your attention to the movie, the texts completely forgotten once you received his reply. Later that night, you did as you were requested and used correction tape to hide the number—which was written in neat, tiny green ink. You were aware that covering the numbers in correction tape would also be considered as ‘defacing public property’ too, but it was for the sake of the stranger’s privacy. It seemed as though you were the fiest to contact the number but, still, if you were in their position, you wouldn’t like your number to be in public property either.

As for the text, you took a screenshot of it for Yangyang, who asked for it so that he could show Dejun while he typed away in your groupchat, and then erased the number from your phone.

Two weeks later, you found yourself sitting at the study desk in your room, staring helplessly at the blank answer boxes of the calculus assignment you had been told to complete and submit before the end of next week. You wanted to cry in frustration as you redirected your gaze down to your notebook where you had been trying to solve the equations. The entire page was a mess and your desk was coverd with eraser bits. It had gotten to the point where some parts of the page had gone grainy, like it always did when you repeatedly erased something on the same area. There wasn’t a single problem that you managed solve—no matter how hard you tried. It was pathetic, really.

With a sigh, you decided to take the break that you had put off, not wanting to take one until you solved a problem (ha!) as a reward. Maybe you would rewatch the entire Twilight saga again (Dejun had managed to convince you to read the series a couple of months back and the movies had become something like a guilty pleasure of yours,) because it was clear that you were going absolutely nowhere.

Just as you had started Eclipse, you heard the door open but didn’t bother moving from your spot. In fact, you hadn’t moved since you started your movie marathon a few hours ago because you were all too comfortable buried inside your fluffy blanket on the couch.

“Perfect timing!” Dejun’s rich voice bellowed, “it just started.” There was the sound of socked feet running towards the couch and then he lifted your legs, sat down and laid them down on top of his lap.

“Hey Dejun.” You greeted, raising your hand for a high five.

When he slapped his palm against yours, he asked, “how’re you doing?”

Just as you opened your mouth to answer, Yangyang spoke up. “Judging from the Twilight marathon that’s going on,” there was a hissing sound of a can opening and the audible sound of him taking a quick sip of whatever canned beverage he was holding, “not very good.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed but your your friend only shrugged, smiling amusedly. “He’s right though,” you grumbled, “I’m really struggling with calculus at the moment.” Struggling was an understatement. You really wanted to pass it because you definitely didn’t want to repeat the exam. That would be a nightmare.

Dejun looked at you sympathetically before he made an affronted noise in his throat, one that you felt deeply in your soul as he turned to face Yangyang. “The Twilight saga is a cinematic masterpiece and you absolutely cannot change my mind.”

“Okay,” the blond replied, clearly up for the challenge. “But it’s not better than Shrek now, is it?”

“Shrek?” Dejun repeated incredulously. “Shrek is an iconic classic but the Twilight saga? Definitely on a different wavelength. The scene in New Moon where Bella just sits on her chair looking out the window soullessly? Perfection! It was a fantastic book to movie adaptation. And don’t even get me started on—”

“As thrilling as your debate is becoming,” you said, interrupting the point that the brunet was about to make, “I’d really love to continue the movie so I can hear young BooBoo Stewart say, ‘newest, bestest, brightest’ to help me feel a crumb of joy.” You were unable to find it in yourself to feel guilty about cutting in. They could take their debate somewhere else while you continued to wallow in your feelings of failure.

The pair read your mood easily and shrugged at one another in concession. Dejun patted your leg lightly in comfort as Yangyang jumped on the couch to sit on your other side, giving you a quick side-hug before focusing on the movie. It was silent up until Rosalie finished telling Bella her the story about her past.

“I’ve been thinking,” Dejun spoke up.

“Uh-oh.” Yangyang muttered playfully to you, his voice purposefully loud. You huffed out a laugh before lightly digging your elbow into his side, knowing that he’s had an awful share of ideas in the past.

Dejun stuck his tongue out at him but continued with what he began saying instead of retaliating. “Why don’t you text that person? The one whose number was in the textbook you borrowed? They must have done the module or something.”

You considered what he said seriously, even pausing the movie so that you could discuss it with him. “What if they didn’t though? What if it was their friend who borrowed the textbook? They did say that it was their friend who wrote it there.”

“Then you could just ask their friend for help.” Yangyang piped up. It was a statement that you couldn’t counter but that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t try to.

“I don’t have their number anymore,” you said to them. “They asked me to delete it, remember?”

“And that’s where you’re wrong,” Dejun told you as he reached into one of the pockets of his jeans and fished out his phone. Yangyang leaned over slightly and the two of you watched as Dejun quickly swiped his finger up his phone. “Here you go!” He said brightly, turning his phone so that you were facing the screen. And there it was: the screenshot that Yangyang asked you to take so that he could send it to Dejun. There was no way you could weasel your way out of this situation now.

“Okay,” you relented, “I’ll text them after we finish this saga.”

“If you text them after this movie, I’ll pay for take-out.” Yangyang bribed, eager for this idea to take place.

You weighed out the pros and cons briefly before agreeing with him. It would be a win-win situation: you would get take-out and a possible tutor. It seemed as if time moved quicker because the movie felt as though it finished within a few minutes. As Yangyang dialed the number for a local take-out place, you slowly typed out a text, him and Dejun watching you with hawk eyes.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

hi! it’s me again. i know you don’t know me but could you please help me with calc? or your friend, whoever borrowed the textbook. please. i feel like my brain is melting

You flung your phone on the table, laid back down on the sofa and released a long sigh. It would be a lie if you said that you weren’t hoping that they would say yes. You were trying your best but it was as if your brain refused to coorperate with you when it came to calculus. If only Yangyang or Dejun were enrolled in the same course as you. It was often that you thoughr that wistfully, especially during times such as this.

It was when you were about to shove a huge lump of lo mein into your mouth that your phone lit up, indicating that you received a notification. You stuffed the noodles into your mouth and grabbed your phone off of the table, dropping your wooden chopsticks into the rest of your dish.

“What did they say?” Dejun asked as he bit into an egg roll.

“Depends,” you read out. “Would I get paid for it?” You practically exclaimed the last part. It was fair that they were wondering about payment after all, who would want to tutor for free? The thought of the amount in your bank account had you cringing, you couldn’t afford to pay for a tutor at the minute. Although, you couldn’t afford to fail your module, either. So it was a lose-lose sotuation. You sighed before shoving another chopstick full of noodles into your mouth as you thought of a reply, eyes never leaving your screen. “How can I say, ‘no I cant’t but I really need your help’ without sounding desperate?”

“You can’t.” Yangyang replied matter-of-factly, chewing on his mapo tofu.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

no but u’d have my gratitude forever???????

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Oh.

[typing. . .]

I’ll have to think about it.

[typing. . .]

Just kidding! I’ll help you out, free of charge. Would you like to do it over the phone or meet IRL?

You cheered loudly when their last text delivered. “I’m guessing they said yes?” Dejun said, smirking smugly. You nodded, grinning widely as your fingers flew on the keyboard in your phone.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

omg ur a lifesaver!!!!! maybe over the phone?? it’ll probably be more convenient foe the both of us :)

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Gotcha. We can discuss our schedule sometime tomorrow.

Your tutor, Wong Kunhang, was surprisingly really helpful. He was much more friendly than you thought he would be, immediately introducing himself after greeting you over the phone. For the entire three hours that the two of you were on the phone, he was nothing but the epitome of patience. Not only that, but he explained everything in a way that you could easily understand and even cracked a lame joke or two to break the tension whenever he noticed that you were becoming incredibly frustrated. By the end of the session, you felt microscopically better about calculus. While you couldn’t say that you were especially ecstatic for the upcoming lectures and assignments, it was safe to say that, while you had a long way to go, things were sort of looking up.

from: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

Same time next week?

to: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

definitely!!

[typing. . .]

also if ur comfortable with it can we pls video chat instead?? i think it would be much quicker than us sending each other pictures back and forth

from: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

That’s a good idea! I can’t believe we didn’t think of it earlier ahahaha.

As you worked through the practice problems that Kunhang prepared for you, you couldn’t help but sneakily stare at your phone to catch a glimpse of him repeatedly. It sure came as a surprise when it came time for the video call and you found yourself face to face with a Disney Prince who came to life. There was no other way to sum up how handsome he was. He somewhat reminded you of Prince Eric—what with his black hair, wide, bright eyes and kind smile. It wasn’t as if you thought or expected that he would he unnattractive. In fact, you hadn’t really wondered about what he would look like at all since you had a long list of priorities. None of which included thinking about whether or not you would find your tutor attractive.

But still. Kunhang was definitely one of those people who were blessed with beauty and brains. One of the Universe’s favorites, if you will.

“You good? Are you stuck on something?” You started at Kunhang’s voice, eyes flying from your phone to your page and back to meet his expectant look. You murmured a negative and resolutely kept your gaze on your work for the next half an hour to avoid a repeat of what had just jappened.

After nearly two months, the tutoring session had become a bi-weekly thing. Sort of. Somewhere in between you whining about every question but toughing it out and him encouraging you while also lightly teasing you, you and Kunhang became friends. One of the two sessions somehow always ended up with the both of you chatting, completely abandoning the unsolved equations in favor of getting to know one another, or, mostly recently, switching back and forth between the show that the two of you suggested to one another.

This week you would be tuning into his suggestion, Love Death + Robots. Kunhang would talk every now and again during some parts, especially when it came to his favorites, but you found that you didn’t really mind. Not when he sounded so (adorably) excited about it. The series itself was pretty good so far albeit short – six episodes in total, and the two of you were already on the fourth one – which meant that the you that you recommended (The Office because you were astounded that he hadn’t watched at least one episode) would soon become the primary source of entertainment since the two of you were only on season three.

As you stood in the snacks aisle, internally debating one which type of popcorn you should purchase (salted or buttered? the microwaveable kind or loose kernels? also, which brand? there were so many options, maybe too many,) your phone vibrated in your pocket. Swapping your basket from your non-dominant hand to your dominant one, you pulled out your phone and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Kunhang greeted back brightly, “uh, so listen, I know we have our thing later but one of my sisters is moving out of her apartment and she asked me to help. Is it okay if we cancel?” The poor guy sounded super apologetic.

“Yeah, totally! Help her out!”–briefly, you thought about offering your assistance before deciding against it because that would be awkward and weird. Weirdly awkward. Awkwardly weird. Whatever–“I mean, it’s not like what we do is a set thing, anyway. I’ll probably ask the guys to hang out instead.” You eyed your basket full of snacks and made a mental note to grab the particular brand of potato chips that Dejun liked, already predicting that he would agree.

The silence that followed seemed to stretch on for hours on end. You would have assumed that the line dropped or went dead for some reason but you could definitely hear some shuffling sounds on the other side and, in a totally non-creepy way, Kunhang’s breathing.

“Right,” he finally replied, drawling the word out. There was another silence that felt extremely awkward. You wondered what facial expression he was making at the moment. It could have possibly clued you into what he as thinking. “Well that’s all I wanted to say I guess.”

“Oh,” you mumbled and then after a beat, you followed up with, “do you prefer salted or buttered popcorn? I’m trying to choose right now but I can’t decide.”

“Definitely salted. Buttered always leaves my mouth feeling weird.” You hummed while trapping you phone in between your ear and shoulder so that you could grab the generic box brand of microwaveable salted popcorn. The conversation carred on without anymore awkward pauses. You picked up a couple of items that he recommended every now and again, trusting his judgement. “Hey, you know what we should do?” Kunhang said as you queued up for the self-service checkout line, eyeing the items on display. When you hummed in response, he followed with, “we should hang out next week. In real life. We could do it on Sunday so you’ll still have one day of tutoring.”

It felt somewhat embarrassing that you agreed so quickly to his suggestion. You definitely should have played it cool but you had been meaning to ask him the same thing for a while now, so you were glad that he suggested it. “We can meet up at a café or something! Maybe have lunch? I’m paying, though!” It was only fair since he was helping you out for free.

“Lunch sounds good.”

“Great!”

“Great!” Kunhang mimicked, just as enthusiastically. “I’ve got to go but I’ll text you later?”

Both of you said your goodbyes then hung up. After tucking your phone back into your pocket, you made your way to the till that just freed up and began scanning your items. Once everything was paid for and bagged, you retrieved your phone to shoot a quick text in the group chat with Yangyang and Dejun, asking them if they felt like watching a movie franchise with you. They agreed, but only after Yangyang asked if ‘you’re weekly date with Kunhang got cancelled’ which earned him a picture of you flipping him off.

“Today’s the big date, huh?” Yangyang asked teasingly as you checked your appearance in the mirror once more, sprawled out on the couch as he made his way through his third mango pudding cup. From beside him, Dejun and Yukhei – the newest addition to your friend group since he and Dejun had to do an assignment together – gave your form an assessing once over.

Dejun, smiling mischievously, said, “obviously, can’t you tell by how nicely they’re dressed.”

You mock glared at the pair while Yukhei lightly slapped Dejun for his comment. Then he, bless his heart, beamed at you and said, “you look great!”

“Thank you,” you replied, smiling sweeting at him before addressing the other two, you firmly said, “and it’s not a date. We’re just hanging out, like the three, now four”–you corrected, glancing over at Yukhei–“of us do on a regular basis.”

“Oh, are they just a friend from your course then or something?” Yukhei asked curiously while Dejun and Yangyang hummed in unison, disbelief clear in their tones.

“No, it’s this guy, he helps me out with calculus. We’ve never met in person but he’s really nice.”

“I should hope so,” muttered Yangyang, peeling the seal off another mango pudding cup. “You’ve been crushing on him for a while now, so it would be a bummer if he wasn’t.” He said through a mouthful.

“Am not!”

“Are too!” Dejun countered for him.

“Am not,” Yangyang mimicked. “So what about all the times you’ve mentioned him then, huh?” And then he placed his pudding cup on the table, clasped his hands together by his cheeks and, in a voice that was meant to sound like yours, said, “‘oh, Kunhang told me this stuff is really good, we should try it out!’, ‘Kunhang is so smart!’, ‘can you believe Kunhang volunteers at the animal shelter and the nursery home as much as he can? Isn’t that so sweet?’, ‘Kunhang has such a Disney Prince smile!’. You gush about him all the time, it’s kinda sickening.”

You threw your arm out at him as you looked towards Dejun, hoping for some back up but you should have known better. They were your best friends after all. Dejun simply shrugged as he snatched a pudding cup from the coffee table and said, “to be fair, you do gush about him a lot. And! Whenever you text him, which most of the time, you get this goofy smile one your face.”

“Huh,” Yukhei mumbled, his tone full of thought. “This guy sounds a lot like one of my buddies.” The three of you looked at him with wide, curious eyes. When he noticed, he added, “it’s probably just a coincidence?” Although his tone suggested otherwise.

“Probably,” you replied as you grabbed your keys and shoved them in your pocket. “I’ve gotta get going or else I’ll be late.” You said as you made a beeline towards the door and slipped on the shoes you thought best suited your outfit. “Don’t wait up!”

“Why?” Yangyang replied just as you were about to close the door, playfulness evident in his voice, “I thought it was just lunch.” The other two cackled at that but you flipped him off and left the apartment, trusting that one of them would like the door behind you.

It was fortunate that you managed to catch the bus on time. After paying the appropriats fare, you made your way towards the back, earphones plugged in so that you could listen to some music along the way. Once seated, you took out your phone sent a text to Kunhang to let him know that you were on your way. His response was immediate, informing you that he was already nearby because his sister had asked him to run an errand for her, and asked you to text him when you were close.

Horizon was a cute little place that served as both a café and restaurant. It was sandwiched between a thrift shop and music store but, surprisingly, didn’t look the least bit out of place among the buildings. As you walked closed to it, you saw Kunhang standing by the entrance, bopping his head as he used his phone.

“Kunhang!” You called when you were close enough, after taking off your earphones and stuffing them into your pocket. Judging from the way he jolted slightly, you startled him. “Hey,” you greeted warmly when he removed his earphones. “You could have waited inside.”

Kunhang shrugged, a brilliant smile etched onto his face, “I thought it’d be easier if we walked in together.”

When you entered, you thought that you would have to find somewhere else to eat due to the amount of people present, but the staff who was waiting by the door only asked if you were eating in and then lead you to a table in the far corner of the room, right beside the window.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, y’know, in person.” Kunhang said as he browsed through the menu.

“You too,” you replied, peeking up from your own menu to find him wearing a hint of a smile. “I can’t believe it took us this long to be honest.”

Kunhang chuckled at that and nodded in agreement.

The meal seemed to fly by even though you left Horizon a little later than expected. You were still laughing as you headed out, thanking the waiter that served you one more time as you passed by him, at a story that Kunhang recounted that took place during his childhood. Although his texting style suggested otherwise, Kunhang was hilarious—which you knew already since he often made you laugh whenever you were on the phone with him, it was just a different feeling compared to the experience in person. You were almost sad at the thought of your time being over with him, until he jammed his hands into his pockets and, rocking back and forth on his herl, asked if you wanted to go get some ice cream since he knew a really good place nearby. And who were you to say no to that offer?

After fighting, again, over who would pay, the two of you roamed around for a bit, slipping into this store and that to window shop. Only when the stores began to close did you realize how late it had gotten. It wasn’t dark out, not yet, and you were surprised that several hours had passed since you first met up with Kunhang.

“Ready to call it quits?” You asked as the two of you began to make your way to where you would wait for your bus.

Kunhang shook his head and pointed somewhere behind you. “Let’s go to the playground over there. Race you.” And with that, he took off, leaving you to stare at him dumbfoundedly until your brain registered what he said and you ran after him.

“Cheater!” You huffed when you reached him, hands on your knees as you caught your breath.

Kunhang did nothing but through his head back and laugh at you. Attractively. It was something to ignore—his attractiveness, that was. But it was awfully difficult and all you could do was hope that he didn’t notice how you were looking at him. You couldn’t help it! Even though his outfit was relatively basic – just some gray-brown sweatshirt, black joggers and a pair of white sneakers – he looked effortlessly good. And it wasn’t just his appearance that made him attractive, either, oh no, because that just wasn’t enough. He also had to have an amazing personality.

“Let’s go over there,” he said after he sobered up, nodding towards the spring riders. “No racing this time.” He added with a wide grin. You weren’t able to suppress your own grin quick enough, rolling your eyes as you shoved his shoulder.

“I’m glad we met up today,” you admitted sincerely as you rocked back and forth on the spring ride. “You’re even better in person.”

Kunhang stopped rocking on his spring ride and looked at you. “I’m glad we met up today, too.” He told you with a smile that turned into one that was more sweet and shy as he said, “we should do it again some time, y’know, when we aren’t flooded with assignments and stuff.”

“Totally!”

“How about, maybe,”–Kunhang’s tongue darted out a sliver of his to wet his lips–“as a date?”

You stared at him in shock which he met head-on, that sweet, shy smile of his still present. You could feel a smile threaten to rise and you allowed it, messing with the hem of your top as you nodded in agreement. “That would be nice.”

“Really?” He asked, his tone both excited and unbelieving. When you assured him that you would be really looking forward to it, he said, “that’s– that’s great! I can’t wait, either.” Then, he jumped of his spring ride, held out his hand and pressed a feather light kiss to your knuckles like the Disney Prince he was when you placed your hand in his.

“We should probably head home.” You said, hand still in his. Kunhang never let go, so you figured he was okay with you interlocking your fingers and swinging your hands back and forth.

Like the gentleman he was, he waited for your bus with you and waited until you got on it, blowing kisses at you through the window. Your smile was so big your cheeks began to hurt as you pretended to catch the kisses.

(Later, after you had told Yangyang about how the day went swimmingly, you received a text from Kunhang and couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh. Your room-mate shot you a curious look so you let him read the text.

from: kunhang 💘

You know Yukhei?!?!?!!!!)

#this took a much different turn than i thought it would andnsk #but i hope it was worth the read #also question: do my fics ever sound like a self-insert???? like i mean not reader insert but like y/n is me if that makes sense????????#cause i sure hope it doesnt omg its not meant to be i promise #i’ve been thinking about it recently cause of this tiktok i watched 😫#but yeah anyways i keep listening to first love + good time on repeat #when mark says ‘ur my my’ and ‘tell me tell me’ and sichengs parts in good time 🥲🥲#sicheng’s parts in good time has been my sole reason for existance lately #i felt it so deeply that AND his insta post from 2 weeks ago affected me so much that i started a draft for him #but i also have drafts for other members that im like hmmmmmmm #although i havent done a sicheng fic since i wrote that pocket!sized sicheng fic and also the smau i started #(and kind of abandoned but i’ll get back to it in the summer maybe)#also 7dream cb 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲#i’ll keep rambling if i don’t start typing the Official tags so here they are:#wayv #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv au #wayv fluff #wayv hendery #wayv kunhang #wong kunhang #hendery fluff #hendery imagines #hendery scenarios #nct #nct au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct hendery

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bluenet13 · 3 years

Photo

Heroes Tonight

Written for @badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: 911: Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes

Prompt: Taking the Bullet

Summary: Life is but a series of split-second decisions, and when you were born a hero, any one of them can end it all in the blink of an eye. Especially when your boyfriend is about to be shot and you don't think, just leap. Or, Carlos and T.K. should have been safe. It was only their day off. But when a convenience store robbery walks in on them, they end up in even more trouble than if they had been on shift.

Links: ff.net - AO3

"This was a really good idea," T.K. says softly, before taking another bite of his cherry ice cream, "thanks for insisting we do something special."

Carlos smiles, and squeezes the fingers that are intertwined in his. "I'm all about staying in bed all day on a day off, especially if it's with you. But every once in a while I like to go out and show the world that the prettiest boy in Texas is all mine."

"You're a dork," T.K. says, a teasing smile on his face, which quickly turns into a fake pout. "But… only in Texas? And what about the other days?"

Carlos sets his mango sorbet down and captures T.K's mouth in his, anything else that T.K. wanted to say dying on his lips, as he parts them in an invitation and deepens the kiss. Carlos' hands now on either side of his boyfriend's face, as T.K's moves his to Carlos' back and draws him close.

When they both need some air, they break the kiss and smile at each other shily. Carlos then grabs his phone and takes a selfie of the two, doing quick work of posting it to his Instagram. "There you go, now the whole world knows... Maybe we can get Marjan to reblog it so even more people know," Carlos lets out with a breathy laugh, then snickers when T.K. playfully smacks his arm. "As for other days... on those I like to show that boy how happy I'm that he chose me." Carlos again continues right from where T.K. left off, his smile only faltering for a second as he remembers a time when a failed past relationship made T.K. choose fear over him.

"I love you," T.K. breathes out, "and if you let me, I'll gladly spend the rest of my life showing you how I choose you over and over again."

"Rest of our lives," Carlos echoes wishfully, "I like the sound of that."

Carlos and T.K. share another kiss, before T.K. interrupts the moment with a chuckle. "I think the rest of our lives is going to be cut frustratingly short if we don't get out of here and to the Ryder household soon."

Seeing the time, Carlos blanches. Quickly finishing the last of his ice cream cone in one swallow, then grabbing T.K's hand and pulling them both towards the parking lot.

Carlos and T.K. had already agreed to meet the team for another 126 hangs before Carlos convinced T.K. to take advantage of the first day of summer landing on their day off to go on an adventure. So they had spent their Saturday on Zilker Park, then playing a round at Peter Pan Mini-Golf, which Carlos had insisted was a real Austin attraction and mini-golf tradition that T.K. needed to experience. Then stopping at The Range after much insistence from T.K. for Carlos to teach him how to shoot. Argument which had been going on for weeks and which Carlos had instantly metaphorically shot down as soon as T.K. tried to argue that it wasn't just for fun, since they never knew when he would be taken hostage again, and learning how to shoot could help him defend himself. At that, Carlos had mumbled that making the switch to paramedic was supposed to be safer, then told T.K. there was no way he would let him handle a gun, as he already was a trouble magnet without adding firearms into the mix. But T.K. was nothing if not stubborn, so today he had sweetly offered to drive when they left the park, and next thing Carlos knew, they were already parked in front of The Range, T.K. smiling up hopefully at him. Never able to deny his man anything, Carlos had begrudgingly agreed. And so they had spent their next two hours in the shooting range, before ending their magical day at the ice cream parlor.

That's how now Carlos and T.K. were very late. Which wouldn't be a problem if not because they were already in hot water after being no-shows at the last three team gatherings. This time, Marjan had said in no uncertain terms that they were both expected to be there or they would be forced to take a time-out every third shift. Well, that idea had come from Mateo, always the sentimental wanting to keep the band together and preserve the status quo, but Marjan and Paul had easily agreed, much to both Carlos and T.K's displeasure. Judd hadn't particularly cared either way, saying his only job was getting the house ready for the team.

-x-x-x-

"I'll be back in a sec," Carlos says, as T.K. parks the car in front of a convenience store a few blocks from Judd and Grace's house.

"I can go with you," T.K. offers, already turning the key and opening his door.

"Sure?" Carlos inquires softly, "I don't mind if you'd better just wait here."

T.K. shakes his head, shooting Carlos a confident smirk. "I'll just get some snacks while you check the fridge."

Nodding, Carlos gives T.K's hand a quick squeeze before following him out of the car. As much as Carlos always wants to protect T.K, he makes a point to remember that living normally while in proximity to alcohol is a natural part of his boyfriend's recovery.

Intertwining their fingers together, Carlos and T.K. then walk into the store, completely oblivious to the two men arguing next to their car, three spots away from theirs.

Parting in different directions, Carlos goes to pick some beer, while T.K. tries to decide which potato chips brand is better, then meeting back in the center aisle and walking together towards the front. "Wait, I forget Mateo wanted some Takis," T.K. says, cringing, then runs back to the snacks aisle.

As soon as he meets Carlos again in the center aisle, T.K. sees the six-packs discarded to the side, and turning to his boyfriend, he easily recognizes the no-nonsense posture and fiery eyes that Carlos keeps reserved for when he's on shift. But before he has a chance to ask what happened, Carlos moves his finger to his lips in the universal sign for please stay quiet and don't get us into any trouble, and grabs his hand, forcing them both to kneel, as he begins to take quiet steps back.

That's when the voices coming from the front start to filter into T.K's mind, eyes going wide as he realizes what's going on. "...quietly open the register and no one will get hurt. Speak or call for help and you won't live to say another word." A man is threatening in a hushed voice. Then there's silence, and Carlos and T.K. can only assume that whoever is tending the register is complying with the robber's demands.

When Carlos feels that they have backed away enough, he drops T.K's hand after giving it a final squeeze and reaches for the phone in his back pocket.

"We have to do something," T.K. whispers, a broom in one hand, and shovel in the other, his face scrunching as he silently tests which would make a better weapon. Because, of course, and much to Carlos' dismay, he had walked them to a mix aisle containing household, yard and other miscellaneous items.

"We're not doing anything," Carlos warns, "and drop those things!" He exhales long and slow, his hand clawing through his hair as he tries to take control of the situation. "I already messaged my boss, someone should be here any moment now."

"It will be too late, we can't let them get away," T.K. argues, "come on, you're a cop, you can't tell me you're okay with this."

Releasing a pained exhale, Carlos closes his eyes for a second. "Of course I'm not okay with this! But I'm a cop because I know what to do in these situations," he chides, "and I'm not okay with my hothead boyfriend getting hurt either. So, you're staying right where you are," he finished in a low, threatening tone.

T.K. nods and stays put, even if the fighter inside is shouting at him to do anything but that. But with Carlos here, he can't do something stupid and risk his boyfriend's life.

Those thoughts however come to mean nothing as soon as the bell above the door rattles loudly and a mother and her daughter come in, both stumbling and crying out loud as soon as a gun is pointed in their direction.

"Oh, crap," Carlos mutters, turning quickly to T.K. with a pleading look on his eyes. "Please," Carlos tries but T.K. is already crawling forward to get a better look. "T.K!" Carlos hisses but he's too late, and is forced to follow instead.

"You two, come here," the robber directs, grabbing the lady by the arm, pulling her along with the girl, who's holding on to her mother's skirt. "Just stay here, and don't try to interfere," he says, pushing them both down towards the floor, behind a hot bar full of hot dogs, taquitos and pizza slices.

With that done, the man moves back to the register and continues pulling out bills and dropping them onto a bag his partner is holding open. "Come on, man. That's more than enough. Let's go before someone else decides to crash this party." The second robber pleads, speaking for the first time. His eyes looking nervous as he moves them from the register to the front door and back again.

And as if summoned, the bell rings again, and a couple of teenagers step into the store. "Mierda!" One swears loudly as his eyes move between the two men, the cash register, and the terrified store clerk whose back is as far as it would go into the wall, his hands raised and slightly shaking.

"Marcos, vamonos," the older teenager says as he grabs his companion's hand and tries to walk back outside.

"You're not going anywhere," the first robber declares, his gun already being pointed towards the two boys, "we don't need no one calling the cops."

"We won't, we won't. Please, just let us go. My brother and I won't say anything. I promise," the teenager begs in a heavily accented voice. Then out of nowhere, he opens the door and pushes his younger brother out of the store. At the same time a shot rings out and the boy collapses in a pool of crimson.

Back in the rear of the store, the shot seems to set something loose in T.K's mind, because not two seconds later, he's turning to Carlos with an apology in his eyes. I'm sorry, T.K. mouths, then gives Carlos' hand a final squeeze, before he drops it and begins crawling towards the front of the store.

-x-x-x-

Getting to his feet, T.K. raises his hands just as the two robbers notice him for the first time. A lump making its way up his throat as he stares down the barrel of a gun. "I'm a paramedic, I can help. Let me..." he begins to say, but his words are cut short as the gun is pressed directly to his temple.

"And where did you come from," the man asks, "is there anyone else here?"

"No, I was alone, hiding in the back," T.K. explains, releasing a relieved breath as both he and the man with the gun scan the area where he came from but come out empty. "Please, let me help him. He's going to bleed out," T.K. tries again, pointing with his chin towards the teenager.

"Go! But I don't want any more surprises or I'll shoot you both," the man angrily concedes.

"I need a first aid kit," T.K. says. "Please," he adds as an afterthought, because he's open to being polite to the man threatening him with a gun, if it can potentially stop him from getting shot, again.

After getting a nod from the man, the store clerk lowers his hands for the first time, reaching down towards the counter and grabbing a small red bag that he throws to T.K, before raising his hands again just as quickly.

Catching the bag, T.K. wastes no time. Just barely acknowledging the robbers with a clipped thank you, before rushing to the boy and kneeling next to him. By now the boy is unconscious, his wound bleeding freely. Not ideal, but T.K. honestly thinks it's a small mercy as he roughly pushes gauze into the opening. After the wound is packed, T.K. curses to himself when he sees there's no chest seal or sterile medical plastic on the kit. Reaching for his wallet, he instead grabs his credit card, and carefully places it over the hole, then uses some medical tape to hold it in place, doing his best to form an airtight seal on the wound to keep air from being sucked into the wound and preventing the lung from collapsing, while also making sure to leave a small opening to let out air.

With that done, T.K. turns back to the robbers, wondering why the hell they're still here and where the damn cops are, when the boy starts to stir, mumbling in pain. Wishing he could switch places with Carlos, T.K. tries his best to keep him calm, whispering whatever comforting word he can think of in Spanish and promising that his brother is safe. Absentmindedly, T.K. also wonders where Carlos is cause he hasn't heard a single sound coming from the back.

Turning to the rear of the store, T.K. tries to find any sign of his boyfriend, but instead he notices the reflection of blue and red lights bouncing off a potato chips display. Keeping any expression from his eyes and his breathing even and calm, T.K. turns to the door, trying to understand what's happening outside.

Seeing cops beginning to get close, weapons and shields at the ready, T.K. carefully starts to pull the boy towards the first aisle and away from the front of the door so he doesn't get trampled down.

"What are you doing?" One of the men asks, as he and his partner begin to walk towards the door, eyes going wide as they see what T.K. just saw. "Did you call the cops? Or maybe it was that damn brother of yours," he all but shouts, gun going up as his finger tightens on the trigger.

Not knowing what else to do, T.K. raises to his feet and stands protectively in front of the boy, his lips parting as he tries to form words, but before he settles on anything in particular, a voice booms from outside, no doubt amplified by a megaphone.

As a man, who T.K. assumes is commander of S.W.A.T, or whoever came to negotiate their release, asks the men to turn themselves in before anyone gets hurt, the one who's clearly the leader swears loudly, as he begins to take steps back. Then when he feels far away enough from danger, he begins to pace, his gun moving widely along with his thoughts and words.

A telephone ringing is the only thing that stops the pacing, as the man angrily grabs it and starts shouting demands. Not smart, T.K. knows but what can he expect from two guys that took like 20 minutes to rob a convenience store. Not able to hear the other end of the call, T.K. just sighs as the robber asks for a car with a full tank, and for the cops to leave so they can drive away, threatening to shoot everyone if his demands are not met, before he throws the phone into a wall, the device breaking on impact.

Knowing there's no way out now, the firefighter turned paramedic tries to add his two cents in an attempt to get everyone safely out of this situation. "Come on, man. Think this through. The cops are already here, they won't just let you go. Turn yourselves in and I can say this was just a big misunderstanding." T.K. has no idea how he would do that, but he can only hope the men are dumb enough to believe his empty promise.

"But we shot someone," the second man whispers, voice shaking. "There's nothing you can say that would justify that."

What a surprise, the one not in charge is actually the smart one, T.K. thinks and chuckles inwardly. "That's okay. He just came in too quickly and scared you guys. We can explain that to the cops," T.K. tries his best to sound convincing.

Seeing the leader drop the gun to his side, T.K. has a second to think that his words must be sinking in and they will turn themselves in. But there's a reason why he's a firefighter and paramedic, and not a cop. Because next he knows he hears someone shout his name, just as the gun is lifted again and a single shot resonates all around him. Everything happening before he even saw it coming.

T.K. waits for the remembered pain, but it never comes. Instead his mind barely recognizes the voice of his boyfriend as the one who screamed his name, just as the man in question lands on the floor in front of him. Blood already beginning to pool under him.

As soon as T.K's mind comprehends that Carlos just jumped in front of a bullet for him, he tries to run to his side, but the robber is now standing in front of him and as soon as T.K. moves he swings the gun hard against his temple. Stunned, T.K. stumbles backward as tears cloud his vision, and he can only wonder if they're because of the hit or due to the fact his boyfriend just got shot.

Feeling like he has nothing left to lose now, and throwing what's left of his self-preservation out the window, T.K. launches himself forward, tackling the man. Both paramedic and bad guy land hard on the floor and instantly begin to struggle against each other as they fight for control of the one weapon. The robber manages to land the first hit, punching T.K. on the face, but he just shakes his head and swings, connecting with the man's nose and feeling it break on impact. Taking advantage of his bit of good fortune stunning his assailant, T.K. takes hold of the gun and raises to hit feet, backing away from the offender on the ground.

Trying to remember everything Carlos taught him earlier today, T.K. sets his feet down and squares his shoulders as he points the gun at the man who just shot his boyfriend. But before he can cock the gun or even really think about pressing the trigger, T.K. instead disassembles the weapon and throws it to the ground. Not only because his oath says that he's supposed to save people, not be judge and executioner, but because T.K. knows Carlos would never want him to hurt someone on his behalf.

Fight over with and save for the time being, T.K. stands paralyzed as he stares down at Carlos, bleeding out on a dirty store floor in front of him, after being shot with a bullet meant for him.

-x-x-x-

As T.K. took care of the injured teenager, Carlos had stayed hidden in the back. Grateful that his boyfriend was just working quietly and not doing anything special to put himself in even greater danger.

Keeping an eye out on T.K. and the robbers, Carlos had text his boss as the men continued to wipe the cash register clean, moving then to the mother's purse. He had done his best to keep calm as he shared with his boss the internal layout of the store, and information on the number of people inside and where everyone was located. But when the commander of S.W.A.T had started making demands, which were only followed by the leader of the pair making even more demands over the phone, Carlos realized he had seen many stories like this before. And rarely, did any of them end peacefully.

Knowing the men wouldn't voluntarily give themselves up, and not wanting his worst fears to come true, Carlos had begun to crawl forward. Luckily T.K. had been focused on the man with the gun and the injured boy, and the man with the gun on T.K. and the cops, so no one had noticed Carlos getting closer.

When T.K. had started trying to plead with the men to turn themselves in, Carlos had the sudden urge to kill his boyfriend himself. But then T.K. seemed to be gaining ground so he allowed himself a brief smile. Before his cop training kicked in and Carlos recognized the man was not accepting defeat, but preparing to go out in a blaze of glory.

And suddenly Carlos knows what is about to happen. And what he has to do.

"T.K!" Carlos shouts, at the same time as he closes his eyes and leaps.

The pain is instantaneous as Carlos collapses to the floor. Darkness already nudging at the edges of his vision.

With all his energy being used on just being able to take one breath after the other, Carlos barely notices the robber walking towards T.K. before the man is raising his gun and Carlos stops breathing altogether when he thinks he's about to shoot at T.K. again and this time he can't do anything to protect him. But the man just pistol whips T.K, forcing Carlos to release a nervous exhale. Because another hit to the head is not ideal, but definitely better than the alternative.

But then Carlos gets another urge to shoot T.K. himself, because his boyfriend launches himself against the robber and they begin to struggle on the ground. And before Carlos can even try to get up and help, T.K. is standing and pointing the gun at the man, making Carlos curse silently because why did he teach him how to shoot. But T.K. being T.K. never disappoints him, and does what Carlos himself would have done, then seems to lose the remaining of his energy and just stumbles and stares at Carlos with teary, guilt-ridden eyes.

Just then the doors to the store burst open and the scene around them turns to full-blown chaos as cops and paramedics rush inside. Doing his best to ignore everything going around him, Carlos focuses solely on T.K, because he can feel a lot of blood pooling below him and if he's about to die he wants his boyfriend to be the last sight he sees. So, doing his best to clear his eyes, Carlos shakes his head and looks up, smiling at T.K. who just dropped to his knees beside him.

Carlos parts his lips to try to say something to his boyfriend, but he's not listening. "No, no, no," T.K is saying over and over again, his already blood stained hands going to Carlos' chest as he tries to stop the flow of the blood which has already soaked his shirt.

Talking off his flannel, T.K. pushes it into the wound on Carlo's chest. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know it hurts, but I need to stop the bleeding," T.K. soothes when Carlos grunts and tries to move away. "Damn it! Why is this blood not stopping?" Discarding the saturated shirt to the side, T.K. uses his own hands again, blood seeping through his fingers.

"T.K, it's okay," Carlos tries to say, but stops as he coughs and chokes on a mouthful of blood. "Please stop and look at me," Carlos whispers as T.K. continues trying to stop the bleeding, so he weakly raises a hand and catches T.K's, intertwining their fingers together. "Whatever happens, everything... everything will be okay," Carlos promises, even as more blood trickles down his mouth, "you'll be okay. I love you, T.K."

"No, no, no!" T.K. continues his chant, tears sliding down his face as he desperately shakes his head. "Please, Carlos…"

"I'm sorry," Carlos says with a pained gasp, weakly reaching out with one hand and running it through T.K's hair, stopping on the bruise already beginning on his temple and stroking softly. By now he can hear muffled voices around him but can't make out any words and he knows that he's fading. Then he sees T.K's lips moving and desperately tries to read the meaning behind his words, but his eyes are closing and he's just so tired. When his lids finally close, Carlos can see unshed tears pressing against them, but instead he chooses to focus on the last image he saw. That of two cops grabbing T.K. by the arms and pulling him from Carlos, his boyfriend's teary eyes pleading, as T.K. begged him to hang on and open his eyes.

-x-x-x-

The door opening behind him and a multitude of emergency personnel rushing inside, springs T.K. back into action.

Forgetting all about the boy whose life he just saved, and ignoring the cops and paramedics around him, T.K's only focus is the man bleeding in front of him. He drops to his knees, doing his best to ignore Carlos' attempts to talk, because it sounds suspiciously like his boyfriend wants to say goodbye and he's not ready for that, instead he concentrates on using his shirt, then his hands, as he tries to stop the bleeding. As Carlos grunts, T.K. does his best to push his guilt down, hating that he's hurting him but willing to do whatever is necessary to save his life.

As Carlos continues trying to call his attention, T.K. can only continue his chant and work because if he stops to listen he knows he will break down, and that is not going to help Carlos. But then his boyfriend grabs his hand and squeezes weakly, and T.K. crumbles. Because Carlos' tear-streaked face is looking directly at him, and there's blood on his lips, and he is obviously dying.

But Carlos can't die so T.K. shakes his head and continues to chant, "no, no, no!" His words, a plea for anyone willing to listen. Then he pleads to the man himself but T.K. can see Carlos' eyes are beginning to close and then he's apologizing. Carlos' hand softly caressing his boyfriend's hair, because even when he is bleeding out, Carlos is still more worried about T.K.

As Carlos goes silent, T.K realizes someone else is talking to him, and there are also people kneeling to his side, and someone is grabbing his arm from behind, but he does his best to ignore it all. "I love you, too," he whispers instead, because he didn't say it back and if this is Carlos' last moment, then T.K. needs to make sure he knows. But he doesn't think Carlos understands because he scrunches his face in confusion before his eyes finally slip shut. "Carlos, please, you can't do this to me, to us… please fight… Please, open your eyes." T.K chokes on his own sobs, and then he's being pulled away from Carlos, two sets of hands grabbing him from behind.

"Son, please. Let the paramedics work. And they need to check you out too," a cop, who is not Carlos, but might be his boss, T.K. can't really remember, is saying to him. "That's a lot of blood."

With that comment, T.K. looks down at himself, his stomach threatening to revolt at the sight, but he pushes it down and shakes his head. "It's not mine," he mumbles, pushing away from everyone. He stumbles backwards, almost collapsing, but steadies himself on the same potato chips' display that first alerted him to the cops' presence. If only he hadn't seen them and tried to play hero.

Feeling his anger and guilt begin to overpower him, T.K. uses the last of his strength and swings his arm hard against the display. The sudden movement makes him feel lightheaded, and for the first time, T.K. notices the nausea and headache. Blinking his eyes a few times, he lifts his hand and touches his temple and winces, then frowns when he sees his fingers covered in wet blood. But he focuses on the dried crimson staining his fingers, and suddenly T.K. is stumbling to the back of the store where he remembers seeing a bathroom and standing in front of a run-down sink as he roughly rubs his hands, trying to get the blood, Carlos' blood, out of his skin.

After his hands are as clean as they will be with just water, T.K. stares at himself in the mirror, absentmindedly wondering if the cop had been talking about the blood on his clothes, which is undoubtedly the boy's and Carlos', or about the one that he now sees flowing down the side of his face. Not particularly caring about the answer, T.K. feels the need to strip off his clothes because he just can't keep seeing all this blood that should be inside Carlos' body. But shaking his head, he just sighs and exits the bathroom instead.

As soon as he's back in the front of the store, T.K's stomach drops as he notices the amount of blood on the ground, then the absence of one of the men whose it belonged to, but before he can ask, he sees the stretcher being pushed into a waiting ambulance. T.K. tries to run outside to follow, but with his adrenaline fading, and all his discomforts finally making themselves known, he just swings wildly as his vision dims and he feels arms pulling him down into a stretcher.

"No," T.K whispers, struggling to get up. "I'm going with him. You can treat me in the ambulance... or I can wait until we get to the hospital. Just save Carlos, please," he begs, voice breaking at the end.

The paramedics prepare to argue, but a voice T.K. only heard once but still would recognize anywhere, speaks next to them. "Let him go." Steadying himself on the stretcher, T.K. turns to find Gabriel Reyes staring back at him. "Let him ride with his boyfriend."

"Thank you, sir," T.K. says, then wastes no time and climbs into the ambulance, sitting on a bench next to the stretcher and instantly taking one of Carlos' hands in his.

"Just take good care of my son. I will be by the hospital as soon as we're done here." And by done here, T.K. knows Mr. Reyes means making sure everyone remotely at fault for what happened to his son is sitting in a cell, without any possibility of parole. So he just nods, before the double doors of the ambulance are closed, cutting any further conversation short.

And whatever happens next at the convenience store is lost to both T.K. and Carlos as their magical day ends with another trip to Dell Seton Medical Center.

-x-x-x-

Opening his eyes, Carlos' first conscious thought is asking himself why everything hurts. He then tries to move his hand to rub his tired eyes, but finds an IV there and decides to leave it alone. Trying to move his other hand, Carlos sees no IV or tubing, but his hand still feels glued to the bed, so he turns his eyes downward and sees another hand attached to his, their fingers intertwined together. Following it to its owner, Carlos sees T.K. slumped on a very uncomfortable-looking chair next to him. The sight steals his breath away for a moment, as all the memories of the last day come crashing down on him.

So, Carlos' second conscious thought is wondering how he can still be alive when there was so much blood. Maybe this is all a cruel dream and I'm still in surgery, Carlos thinks, but as soon as his eyes land on his boyfriend again, seeing him unharmed except for a white bandage on his head and brace on his other hand, Carlos pleads with whoever is listening for this to be real. Because if T.K. is okay, nothing else matters.

There's no third conscious thought, as the pull of whatever drugs they're giving him is too strong and Carlos drifts back to sleep. But not before he squeezes T.K's hand, and softly promises that he will see him soon.

-x-x-x-

One of the next times Carlos wakes up, he quickly notices there's no hand in his, instead T.K. is lying on the bed next to him, one of his hands under his head holding it up, the other one carefully set on top of Carlos' chest, as his eyes focus on the rise and fall that tells him Carlos is still alive.

Wanting a moment to take it all in, Carlos says nothing and just stares at his boyfriend, thanking their lucky stars because they're both okay. A few seconds later, still saying nothing, Carlos just moves his free hand and sets it over T.K's, intertwining their fingers from above.

Turning away from their joined hands, T.K lets out a small squeak, tho later he would argue it was only a gasp, then looks up and smiles at Carlos. "Hey babe, glad to see you awake," he says softly, "you really scared me today."

Carlos begins to say something, but his dry throat makes it hard to talk and he ends up coughing instead.

"Here, don't talk yet." T.K. quickly turns to a table next to the bed and grabs a cup of water, setting the straw in front of Carlos so he can drink easily. "Go slow."

Carlos drinks a few, tiny sips, letting the cold water soothe his throat and waits a moment before he tries to speak again. "Thank you."

"Anytime," T.K. whispers, then turns back to the bed and gets closer so he can kiss Carlos' forehead. His lips lingering above as his eyes look down on him with as much guilt and pain as Carlos as ever seen there.

"I'm sorry I scared you, but you also scared me a lot," Carlos admits, barely stifling a grunt as he slowly lifts his head to press a kiss to T.K's lips. "And I'm also glad you're okay."

"You shouldn't have done that," T.K. mumbles, lowering himself back onto the bed as he continues to stare at his boyfriend, as if trying to convince himself that he really is okay. "When you said I wasn't allowed to get shot again, that didn't mean you could just jump in front of a bullet meant for me." With that admission, his eyes glaze over and he squeezes them shut to stop any tears from falling.

"I'm sorry, T.K, but I couldn't just do nothing and see you get shot right in front of me," Carlos says honestly, even when he knows his action forced T.K. to do just that but still not regretting his decision. "Besides, at the moment, I didn't think, I just did."

"That's not how this works..." T.K. begins, but Carlos cuts him short.

"This works however way it ends with both of us alive at the end of the day," Carlos finishes for him.

T.K. opens his mouth to say Carlos didn't know that would happen when he took that bullet for him, that he could have died, but honestly, he doesn't think it matters. Because T.K. would have done the same thing for Carlos, and they both know it. So why delve on it now.

"Thank you," T.K. says instead, "and sorry for also worrying you. I just couldn't let the boy die."

"You saved his life… both our lives," Carlos says proudly, "a doctor came before, the boy is okay. His brother also. He stayed outside and helped explain things to the cops when they got there," he answers the unspoken question on T.K's eyes.

T.K just nods, the events of the day still too fresh for him to say much. So Carlos and T.K. just fall into silence for the next few minutes, eyes locked on each other but no words being exchanged.

Raising his hand, Carlos runs it through T.K's hair, stopping when he reaches the white bandage. "You okay?" He asks softly, breaking the silence in the room.

"You just spent four hours in surgery to fix a hole in your chest and you're asking if I'm okay?" T.K. wonders incredulously.

"I will always worry about you," Carlos says sincerely, "and… I'm very high on painkillers, I can see you're not."

Rubbing his bloodshot eyes, T.K's sighs, for once wishing Carlos didn't know him so well. "I'm okay, or I will be. They offered some OTC painkillers but you know I'd rather not."

"Okay," Carlos says simply. He wishes he could do something to alleviate T.K's pain but he knows he can't. This battle is something T.K. always undertakes alone, but as every other time, he will just be here to hold his hand while he toughs it out. "Come here," he says, pulling T.K to him and running his fingers soothingly over his scalp.

Sighing, T.K carefully rests his head over Carlos' shoulder, mindful of all the wires and tubes around him. "Next time we're not going out, and just staying in bed all day, just like this," he says with a breathy laugh, his eyes beginning to slide shut as feelings of content and relief overtake him.

"And next time you guys don't want to hang out with the team you can just say so, no need to be all dramatic and get yourselves shot and concussed again," a voice says from the door and both Carlos and T.K. groan when they see Marjan, Paul, Mateo and Judd standing by the door, no doubt with Owen and Gabriel closed behind… Both cop and paramedic wondering if it's too late to close their eyes and just fake sleep.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fanfiction #bad things happen bingo #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes

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thecandywrites · 3 years

Text

Blood For Gold Part 6

Ok, so for the parts that are in italics, that’s meant to signify that they’re speaking a foreign language. What does marinai sound like in my imagination? Have you ever heard Hebrew or Arabic or even Aramaric poetry? How GORGEOUS it sounds? Like that.

Again, a thousand thanks to @kriskukko for letting me do this and borrow their art, thanks to @punkhorse96 for all of your amazing feedback. Enjoy.

Blood For Gold

Part 6

You were barely able to walk up the steps of your own home. Demsey Draft had rutted you so good, so many times in every way you could ever want and made you feel like a treasured, beloved goddess and certainly worshiped you like you were one, so much so that your legs felt like jelly, but the happy, dreamy smile on your face was priceless. You went straight upstairs and dressed in something else moura but something clearly less sexy but much more comfortable and simply had your hair down in soft curls as you applied a face mask so that your complexion tomorrow would be as glowing as your insides surely were right now. It had been just what you needed.

You needed to get the taste of that pregnancy warding tea out of your mouth though. Although you knew that much more of these meetings, you were going to associate the taste with Demsey and soon you’d drink it and instantly get turned on.

“Did you have a pleasant evening My Lady?” Rose asked as she helped you take off your face mask before you would eat dinner, although you didn’t really have much appetite for it since your late lunch, early dinner feast with Demsey Draft had sated your hunger quite perfectly in every sense.

“I did, the gardens were beautiful, the perfect diversion from the week I’ve had.” You answered.

“I’ve heard news my Lady.” She informed you.

“What news?” You asked.

“There was another moura bride came off the train just today, she’s supposed to be at the ball tomorrow.” She informed you.

“From the stables?” You asked.

“Yes, came with a very large party, there had to be dozens of people with her, staff of all kinds, she went straight to the Palace of Windsor. Annabelle and Martha saw it since the party came out into the market a little by the station, all of them were loaded up into a few dozen carriages, all of which belonged the Palace of Windsor, they took up most of the train and most of the cargo, it was a moura train too, they could tell by the way the particular rail cars were decorated on the outside. Annabelle said she could smell the exotic fruits herself, mainly mango, pineapple and papaya.” She told you as you swooned at even the very mention of those exotic fruits.

“Did Annabelle see the bride?” You pressed.

“Aye, a jewel orc, would shame a peacock or any other jewel.” She answered as you blinked in surprise.

“Well color me surprised. I did not think the royal family of elvish and human decent would want a jewel orc. But hopefully they treat her well. I look forward to seeing her again, whoever she might be, there are only five jewel orc brides at the stables, Callellea, Delmalina, Benyana, Adrinelle and Savamelle and thankfully I am friends with all of them, I look forward to seeing whichever one of them came. Can you tell the cook to make a sheet of baklava? I wish to take some to whichever of those girls will be there tomorrow.” You insisted.

“Absolutely, I’ll tell him at once my Lady.” Rose smiled happily and left you again to do as you instructed.

Meanwhile Demsey had made it to his own home and promptly crashed on his bed, his body spent and sore in places he didn’t think could get sore, but he was sated in every sense and very happy and relaxed the way any epic rut would leave anyone.

“Why do you smell like a woman?” Seirge asked as he came to call Demsey down for dinner and sniffed the air deeply, getting that particular scent, which this was only the second time he was smelling it. It was good but peculiar and he couldn’t place his finger on it or explain why it was peculiar.

“Because I was with one hell of a woman.” Demsey murmured, his voice half muffled from his pillows since he was laying face down on his bed, his body was spent, his stomach was full and now all he wanted was the sweet bliss of sleep.

“Sowing more wild oats are you?” Seirge prodded.

“Something like that, don’t...don’t tell anyone.” Demsey pleaded.

“You also smell like you’ve eaten already.” Seirge probed as he picked up scents of food too.

“Because I have, I’ve had my fill for tonight, all I want is sleep.” Demsey insisted as he barely pulled his blankets down on the other side of the bed and rolled over and tried to tiredly take his own clothes off that you had helped redress him in, such a sweet, thoughtful thing too. It had actually almost started another round, trying to dress each other but it was an act that was surprisingly intimate yet sentimental too.

“So does this woman have a name?” Seirge asked as Demsey cracked an eye open fixed his brother with a look.

“Does it matter?” Demsey returned because even if Miss Audra Draft worked in a whorehouse, he was feeling particularly possessive at the moment and not wanting to share such a treasure with anyone, let alone his brother.

“I guess it doesn’t, I was just curious.” Seirge shrugged nonchalantly. Even though he could smell her better with every piece of clothing his brother took off, he could find her by scent if he had to.

“Miss Audra Draft, she works at the Red Velvet Rope.”

“Is that why you don’t have any pocket money anymore? Because you’ve been blowing it at the casino?” Seirge instigated.

“Sure.” Demsey chuckled as he undid as much of his clothes as he could before he had to sit up to take it off of himself and once he took off his clothes Seirge then started cackling laughing at all the love bites, claw marks and other evidence on his brother’s body of an intense sexual encounter.

“Whew, nevermind, I can smell all of her on you. Damn, you know I never pegged you for the type to be into moura women, but obviously you had a good time.” Sierge laughed.

“I had the time of my life. Mouras are...they are always the best at whatever they decide to do and she’s...she has no compare.” Demsey praised with a dreamy smile.

“Even to your Countess Audravienne Morrigan?” Seirge pressed.

“...ok, I take it back, there is only one creature above her, and that is the Countess, but the resemblence between the two is uncanny, they even sound similar, which is probably why I prefer Miss Draft to any other except the Countess and that is only because I guess all mouras look the same after the Gold Plague, did you know that the gold that rained down from heaven was actually the gold dust ash of billions of heavenly moura who died in the plague? I had no idea that that is what it was. But Miss Draft was happy to give me a history lesson and even fed me a proper moura feast there, it was some of the best food I’ve ever had in my life, and is why I’m not hungry for dinner cause I’ve already had every appetite except for sleep satisfied today.” Demsey insisted as he pulled on a sleep tunic before he crawled into bed.

“Well next time you go, take me with you, even though I doubt you’d share, I wouldn’t mind at least seeing what you see.” Sierge said as he blew out the candles in his brother’s room so his brother could get some sleep before also throwing on some more wood the fire in the fireplace.

“Uh huh,” Demsey murmured as he fought to hold onto conciousness now that he was in bed before Sierge left him in peace.

The next day you happily gorged yourself on breakfast before you spent most of the day getting your hair washed along with your body and scrubbed, pampered, moisturized and massaged and then perfumed before Richard and Agnes and Jane would be coming to pick you up in the early evening and take you to the ball in their barouche box carriage as your ladies got you ready in your gown that had been dropped off just that morning along with several others, a few of which you couldn’t remember Agnes ordering, or yourself, the ones you couldn’t remember were very clearly more moura in style then the rest but you paid it no mind since the dress you would be wearing tonight was a superb gold gown, close to the Regency style, but clearly had some moura touches which you didn’t remember asking for or ones that Agnes hadn’t asked for either but you were so happy and so excited to see an old friend, you didn’t care. You wanted to look like the perfect balance between moura and English while your thoughts drifted to who exactly had come. You were both hoping yet fearing it was Callellea, you didn’t want her sweet soul anywhere near here, but the others you would still be very happy to see.

However no sooner had you gotten ready than the Morrigans were there early to pick you up as you took a deep stabilizing breath and then went down to see them only to be met with many more trunks that were being brought in while crates of fruit and other foods were delivered to your kitchen.

“What’s all this?” You asked as you gestured to it.

“A gift, apparently the Young Dauphin Ramsey has brought in a moura bride, apparently a good friend of yours from Dorierra, they had tried to deliver it to us at Broadcove but once they learned that you were no longer with us there, it was promptly picked up and all brought here. We hope you have room for it all.” Jane answered as she eyed your new treasures and gifts with delight.

“Well then I must invite you to stay the night tonight then dear Jane to help me unpack it all and inspect everything.” You insisted as she giggled excitedly and nodded in agreement.

“Well we must be off before we run late.” Agnes insisted as she ushered both of you out of the house and into the carriage where Richard was waiting.

“So the Dauphin brought a moura bride from the stables?” You asked Agnes and Richard once inside the carriage as you sat next to Jane.

“Apparently he brought two, will be pitting them against each other for his hand, as if the courting market wasn’t fierce enough.” Agnes answered, because her hopes that Jane might catch his eye after your own betrothal to someone else were being dashed to pieces at the very thought.

“Do we know their names? Because I know every other moura bride at the stables, if she is a close friend that could be helpful and tie us to the royal family.” You mused, knowing that was what would incite them to be a little more honest and forthcoming with you- offering what they clearly wanted.

“They’re long, overly extravagant, barely pronounceable foreign names.” Richard waived off and you bit your lips to keep yourself from arguing with him. You would know as soon as this carriage would get you there but in the meantime you tried to remain patient as the carriage seemed to travel even slower than usual, getting behind other carriages who were all going the same way and whoever was already on their way was taking their own sweet time and it took every ounce of willpower not to get out of the carriage and just run there and beat them there. But you were a lady, a Countess at that, and you had sweet Jane to think about, you couldn’t make this hard on her because the Morrigans had learned early that you had a soft spot for Jane and made a show of pressing that soft spot whenever you displeased them. It was plainly barbaric.

Finally upon arriving at the ball, you finally caught sight of them. Czarina Callellea your best friend in the world and Princess Benyana, another friend, perhaps not as close as Callellea though. You nearly squealed at seeing them as your moura marks lit up like fireworks as theirs did the same as they practically ran to you and even though it broke tradition and rules of decorum, they pulled you into a hug and you practically melted into their arms, all three of you nearly crying all your makeup off at the prospect of being reunited as the three of you hugged tightly before they each kissed your cheeks as you did the same.

“Why are you dressed so English?” They asked as you pulled away to look at each other as they spoke in marinai- the moura mother tongue to you.

“Because the family I married into commanded it.” You answered which made them both scrunch up their noses in disgust.

“I heard from them that both of you are here for one man?” You asked them.

“Yes, a Duke Demsey Voyambi,” they answered and your heart stopped as all air crashed from your lungs as your face fell.

“Is he a bad man?” They asked you worriedly reading your reaction.

“No! No, he’s perfectly fine, kind, funny and friendly and actually a friend of mine, we are at first names, his grandfather protected the king in battle, that’s how the family got their Duchy, and they have a soap business, that’s how the family makes their money, but he’s attached to Lady Whitesale. His sister told me directly and when I asked him in private, he did not deny it, I do not know her though. I don’t know what she looks like. But, are you sure that the Duke sent for you?” You asked.

“No the duke didn’t send for us, the royal family did, they wanted to see more mouras in their gentry, and the Duke is orc but is a purist and therefore only a jewel orc will do in that kind of situation and apparently he isn’t the only orc in gentry here, the offer is the same that you got from your Edward.” They informed you. Your own contract with Edward had been extremely generous but was largely ignored until after his death when the Morrigans were forced to head it or risk losing everything.

“Oh,” you answered as your heart constricted painfully into your chest.

“Well, when you are not trying to seduce the Duke, there are moura clubs here, I have only had a chance to go to one, but I hear the others are amazing.” You answered.

“Oh good,” they blew out a breath of relief before the Duke was announced to have arrived.

“Time to get work I guess.” You bid them, trying to sound cheerful but you could feel nothing but disappointment.

“Did you have your eye on the Duke?” Callellea asked as she took a step in that direction before Benyana clearly didn’t wait for her to go ahead and come over to them before Callellea stepped closer to you again.

“I did, but with him already attached, I withdrew. But if he likes you better than Whitesale, then, more power to you. It’s ok, go, see how handsome he is, because he is very handsome with a nobility of character that will be rarer than the diamonds we are wearing.” You nodded in his general direction before she withdrew and left your side and when they withdrew the Morrigans were on you in an instant, reminding that that would be the only time it would be acceptable for you to break the rules of decorum before you simply marched away from them and towards the punch bowl.

“No sunrise is as beautiful as the ones in your eyes.” Came a masculine purr, in marinai again, near your ear and his voice sent a shiver down your spine and made every hair stand on end, but in a good way.

“Leumeni.” You turned to see your old lover who came to stand beside you, also getting himself some punch.

“Since when do the stables let a male leave?” You asked him, sticking to marinai again, not knowing when you’d get a chance to speak it again.

“Since they offered for us to come and chaperone our sisters since they can not be without those in this country apparently.” He answered.

“If I could hug you I would.” You told him.

“Oh I know, I am fighting not to pick you up off your feet and spin you around, but I was informed of the rules all day.” He rolled his eyes as you smiled sadly in response.

“How come you have never returned my letters?” He asked curiously.

“You wrote to me?” You asked with a confused crown.

“I did, I have been writing to you about once a month ever since you left, checking up on you, but I have never heard back.” He answered.

“But I have been writing to you and the rest of my friends but I have never heard back either. I do not know if the mail system is reliable or not, I have gotten no letters from anyone, not even my parents or my siblings. Once I left the stables all communication has ceased, sometimes the letters come back to me undelivered, other times, they just vanish. And I do not know what happens. I have even tried to hire specific carriers to travel directly, but all they do is take my money but offer no results or vanish completely and I am still left with nothing.” You answered and the more you talked the deeper he frowned.

“Then I will look into it on your behalf. We have been invited here by the royal family. There is no way any moura will ever marry here if they can’t even get a letter home and back.” He insisted before you brought him closer.

“When you and the rest of all who came here get a chance, come to Mirador, that is my residence. I have things for all of you to read since I can not speak of it now.” You implored.

“We will come, tomorrow if you’ll have us.” He offered.

“I have company tonight, make it the day after tomorrow.” You insisted.

“Absolutely, we will be there.” Leumeni insisted before he bowed and retreated again.

“Do forgive me for overhearing Countess…” Dauphin Ramsey began as he sidled up to you, continuing to speak in marinai.

“Oh, your Grace, I apologize, I shouldn’t be talking about my personal affairs at a time such a this and I did not realize that anyone else not from Dorierra would be speaking marinai.” You immediately apologized as you curtsied in place.

“Oh please, do not apologize. You should be able to speak any language you wish. You must not worry, very few know marinai here in England, but my mother has taught it to me as my mother tongue as well, English is so very difficult to speak, much less read or write and you speak it so beautifully and the marinai accent only makes the most humble language sound ethereal. It seems my cousins have not done their homework and research before inviting more mouras here without hearing from the last moura to grace the court about how she is doing and getting along. To hear of such troubles with something as simple yet important as your own private letters to your parents going astray, especially in our royal mail system, is unacceptable, I will have the matter looked into and investigated as soon as possible. You did the right thing by coming forward and telling the truth of the matter, to a trusted friend at that and my only apologies are that I overheard it but it concerns every moura on English soil. And if there is anything else for you that I may do, please tell me. I must apologize for not coming to you sooner, I was trying to respect your mourning period.” Ramsey reassured you as you blinked in surprise.

“Sir, I fear what repercussions may happen if you do though.” You murmured with an apprehensive look.

“My dear Countess, no you must never fear anyone ever. You are a royal moura, you technically outrank me, I believe your former rank of Sultana should still hold true and as such that puts you on even ground with the Queen herself. You have more royal blood running through those veins than all of the royal family put together. We mouras are still in our golden age. The Gold Plague did nothing but made the survivors more precious and valuable than ever. While this matter is sorted out, please, when we won’t be seeing each other at balls, won’t you consider joining me at the Midnight Peacock? They dance every moura dance at the stables and we’ve even invented our own. You would be the bell of the ball even if you showed up in burlap.” He offered.

“Uh, well, I don’t know if that will be permitted your Grace.” You slowly answered.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because of this.” You said as you pulled out the list, the one that Agnes and Richard had dictated to Jane to write down of suitors to avoid where his name was at the very top and handed it to him.

“Who gave you such a list?” Ramsey demanded as he scowled deeply.

“It was dictated to me by Count and Countess Morrigan, they forced their sweet and innocent daughter Jane to write it down faithfully.” You answered honestly.

“Every moura in the country is on this list.” Ramsey realized before his face changed to smug understanding.

“Well Sultana, is it alright if I address you as such?” He asked.

“Please, just Miss Audravienne if you must be formal, Audra if you wish to be friends.” You suggested as that seemed to delight him.

“I will also look into this. I understand that you also had a contract between the Morrigans and yourself and the stables, would you mind if I also looked into that, because I believe all three are related.”

“Really?” You asked.

“Well, I do not wish you to worry about it, but I would simply like for your permission to look into these personal matters, us mouras must stick together, birds of feathers flocking together am I right?” He pressed and you smiled in relief.

“Then you have my permission.” You decided.

“Then just call me Ramsey, my dear friend Audra.” He insisted as he took your hand and kissed it charmingly.

“If you are to take that, you might as well have the other one.” You insisted as you pulled the other one from your large clutch.

“Give me just a moment please to pass these onto my best man and I will return to you in just a moment my dear Audra and when I return, if I may be so bold as to claim the first two dances.” He cooed before he left, and while you did feel some guilt for using his Grace to deal with your problems with the Morrigans, you had always been suspicious of them for creating some kind of unseen barrier, as you also wondered if your own staff that followed you from Broadcove also had a hand in it. But having the cousin of the royal family look into the matter may be just as good as royal intervention you supposed since you could no longer count on the stables to do so any more than they already had.

Meanwhile Demsey and his brothers had almost frozen in place to see two jewel orc moura practically strut up to them. They had never seen jewel orcs before and to see them in person, was an experience to say the least.

“Which one of you is Duke Demsey Voyambi?” Benyana asked before Demsey’s brothers pointed to him.

“We were told by the royal family to meet your family in particular. It’s so wonderful to see orcs take our rightful place in high society. Sadly this court is late, in other courts in Europa, orcs take up over half of all the gentry, yet all we see is what? Three, maybe four orc families here?” Benyana revealed as she looked around, frowning at what she saw before she turned her attention back to Demsey and his family and smiled again at them, her prettiest, most charming smile at that.

“It is quite an imbalance.” Demsey nodded in agreement.

“So won’t you take a turn on the dance floor with me, your Grace? I have been practicing the dance steps for the last two weeks. Even on the train here I practiced. I want to see if it was worth it.” Callellea began, with a direct and hopefully look to Demsey before Benyana could get her hooks into Demsey herself.

“Of course.” Demsey readily agreed as he took her hand and led her to the dance floor while his brother Sierge asked Benyana to dance.

“I have heard a rumor about you already.” Callellea murmured to Demsey as she took his arm as they made their way through the crowd and pulled his arm to her side tightly to pull his ear to her.

“You have?” Demsey asked as he couldn’t help but grimace slightly.

“Sultana Audravienne informed me that you have an attachment to a Lady Whitesale?” She pressed.

“Ah. I see. That is actually not true. My sister Kiera insisted that I did in an effort to keep Countess Agnes Morrigan from trying to play matchmaker with me, but when Audra asked me about it, I didn’t want to embarrass my sister by contradicting her, and I should have had more honor and told Audra the truth, I barely tolerate Lady Kate Whitesale because she’s disingenuous.” Demsey confessed.

“Well then you should correct that misunderstanding before I fear it will be too late.” Callellea warned with a pleading look.

“What do you mean too late?” Demsey asked as he then turned and started leading Callellea to the side of the space that wasn’t crammed full of people.

“Then you must declare it to her and make the truth known, because she feels the former is true. Princess Benyana and I were invited here to try to court you, since it is apparently known that you will only take an orc for a wife but that you at least give the Sultana enough attention that you are deemed a distraction at least or a threat at most by her other pursuer. We were sent to try to seduce you away from her so that someone within the royal family may have the freedom to pursue her without you distracting her. When we told Audra of this she looked absolutely gutted and heartbroken because she had her eye on you. But her own honor forbade her from pursuing you and now I fear that her own fear of the royal family will not permit her from expressing it either. If you do not return the attraction then by all means, let her be pursued by others, but if you share and return her feelings, then by all means, say something, do something. Otherwise she will be snatched up before the end of the evening and the vicious cycle begins anew.” Callelea implored him as he stared at her in surprise.

“Do you have any care for her? Do you have any partiality or attraction whatsoever towards Sultana Audravienne?” Callellea pressed.

“I do.” Demsey insisted.

“I know we are strangers but she told me that you are of noble character, one that we would have a hard time finding a comparison to in this court. Is that true?” Callellea pressed.

“If Audra said such things, then I have no choice but to do my utmost to live up to such high praise.” Desmey answered as his own affection for you grew as his smile turned bashful.

“Then you should have my confidence. Do not repeat this or let on that you know- but she suffered greatly under the Morrigan’s roof. She suffered unspeakable horrors. So much so that she was not allowed back to the stables, despite everyone in the stables contesting it. But she had no choice but to sign a contract that she would not return to them unless her very life was in danger, I only know this because I broke into the stable master offices and found the contracts and read them myself. But she is forbidden from talking about it because she signed it. She can’t go home and she is left to fend for herself when in a society, women have no voice or autonomy, it leaves her at the mercy of the men around her and the men around her since she has left have done nothing but bring her harm. And it is clear that the Morrigans are still treating her badly, despite the contracts that they would not. I saw the way they were practically breathing down her throat the moment I left her side. Is there anything you can do to help her?” Callellea implored.

“I have asked but she won’t give me a direction.” Demsey confessed as his heart once again reached out to you.

“Then ask again, ask every time you see her, be sincere and genuine, do not give up. Gain her trust and respect. She has spent her whole life preparing for a life that did nothing but hurt her. Now she is free to at least marry who she wants, she deserves to marry for love and she deserves for someone to treat her like the treasured angel she is, if you are lucky enough to catch her eye and gain her friendship. Then prove you are worthy of it and don’t fall for this trick.” She urged as Demsey looked away from her and saw that the Dauphin was walking away from you, with several pages in his hands as he recognized the list in them.

“I will do all I can, in the meantime, if you could just dance one dance with my brother Tzane, I would be most appreciative, and do not worry, Tzane wouldn’t hurt a mosquito that was sucking the blood from him.” Demsey requested.

“Thank you. Now go to her.” Callellea urged as Demsey realized this must be the same Callellea who wrote that note to you.

“Oh, Voyambi, tell me, do you know anything about this?” Ramsey asked as Demsey crossed paths with him first on his way to you.

“Yes I do. Two weeks ago, my sisters and I were out to tea at Worthingtons we all overheard Countess Agnes dictate both of these lists to Sultana Audravienne, Jane had no choice but to write them down. Agnes also heavily criticized the Sultana every time she took a bite of food or a drink of tea, and forbade her from putting cream or sugar in her tea, or from eating any sweets whatsoever. And then that very same day, they went out to dinner at the Savoy where they were joined by Count Richard Morrigan who repeated the same direction. Even though the Sultana lives at Mirador, the Morrigans seem to continue to try to control every breath she takes.” Demsey ventured, enacting his own vengeance on your behalf.

“Had you not gotten it from her, I was going to be making your Grace aware of it, because I could cleary tell that the Morrigans planned on excluding and alienating half of the court,” Demsey added.

“Because you’re a good man, in order to protect the Sultana Audravienne, might we agree that you did? So that would take any blame off of her when this is investigated?” Ramsey asked.

“You may, I would happily shoulder that.” Demsey immediately agreed.

“Good man, have you met the Princess and the Czarina yet?” Ramsey asked.

“Yes, they’re both exquisite, as all mouras are but jewel orcs are clearly a class of their own. Their majesties were wise in inviting jewel orcs into the realm. It will only strengthen the court, diversify it before it can be solidified and bolstered, in fact I was just on my way to the Sultana to ask for her opinion and advice, since surely she must know them better than anyone else here.” Demsey praised, knowing that’s what Ramsey wanted to hear because out of everyone in the royal family, Dauphin Ramsey was the only one unmarried, and it didn’t take but a half wit to know who exactly had brought the jewel orcs in, it left no doubt in Demsey’s mind that it was Ramsey’s idea, but if Ramsey’s reputation was true, he would ruin you the moment another moura prettier than you could be brought up in the stables and he would no doubt “trade up” and Demsey felt he needed to protect you from that.

“I agree, enjoy them tonight, I would hate to see either of them leave without so much as a betrothal, but alas we may only take one wife.” Ramsey shrugged before he left, happy and practically tickled that Demsey corroborated the story as already quite the case was building up against the Morrigans.

“Sultana Audravienne,” Demsey called to you before a look of complete relief and happiness washed over your face at seeing him again while your moura marks practically glittered in delight, despite your own heart breaking after overhearing the Duke’s conversation with the Dauphin.

“Duke Demsey.” You greeted as you both curtsied in place since that was as “formally informal” you could be in this setting.

“I really need to talk to you,” Demsey said as he came to stand as close to you as society would allow, but lowered his voice so that no one would hopefully overhear the conversation.

“About the Princess or about the Czarina? Both are exquisite, it’s actually Princess Benyana that has the most to offer you, her brothers make most of the soap in the stables, I’m sure if you courted her, you would be able to get the recipe, or especially if you wed her- it could be written in the contract with the stables that you could take it, make it and sell it for your gain as well as hers since upon marring a bride from the stables, proof of income and ability to care for her, even in the event of your death, are a requirement, which I’m sure will be easy for you to establish. Since the royal family invited them here, they would support you in that request, I can’t imagine how many hundreds of thousands of pounds you would make if you did. I know I would buy it by the case.” You informed him as you tried to put on a brave smile but couldn’t look him in the eye because if you did the tears that were rimming your eyes would fall and looking down into your own glass and trying to furiously blink them away just as Ramsey came back to your side.

“Buy cases of what my dear Audra?” Ramsey asked as it was Demsey’s heart that stopped as it felt like each one of those words in that sickeningly romantic cooing tone from Ramsey’s mouth was a stab into his being as anxiety began to eat at him as fear that he was already too late frayed his nerves.

“Oh I was telling the excellent Duke Voyambi that if he were to court Princess Benyana, he had the most to gain from her besides her exquisite beauty that has no equal, or talents that set a standard of perfection that even I can’t live up to, also since it is her brothers that make most of the soaps of every variety under the sun, moon and stars, and that if there would be a courting between the two, he might ask for the recipes to make them to sell so that England would have a proper moura soap, that anyone who wanted to buy a piece of luxury could own. I know of so many mouras who would buy anything even remotely similar since our moura skin can be so delicate and sensitive. Surely he could make a fortune if he did so and thus support our great empire through his own fair and just taxes your Grace. But then again it is the Czarina Callellea’s brothers who make some of the best food in all of the moura stables and are proficient in all the moura court styles of cuisine and can blend them all together seamlessly. Surely a cookbook penned by her brothers would be worth it’s weight in platinum. Even as large as I’m sure it would be. Moura food is almost impossible to find outside of the stables and I mourn the absence of a good moura restaurant here. I have tried to give my own cooks some recipes from dishes from my own court that have been passed down through my own family but they are limited in what ingredients are available here and they don’t have the same culinary training that moura chefs do. And I long for a taste of home.” You explained as Demsey wanted to scream in protest because you were giving Ramsey all the ammunition he needed to force this issue on him but at the same time he could see you were clearly just trying to support him and do what was best for him and his family but at this point, he could care less about business, you were suddenly more important to him than selling another stupid bar of soap, he needed to think quickly and try to say something if only to tip you off to the truth.

“Then it would be better for his Grace to court the Czarina since your Grace’s appetites for all things moura are practically insatiable, perhaps her brothers can cook up something that will finally sate your appetites since it’s clear that they came with their sisters.” Demsey suggested to the Dauphin but you couldn’t help but secretly agree. Yalin had warned you about her son, how he was insatiable and how he was on a search for the perfect moura mate who would be both perfectly moura yet able to also be perfectly English and told you which days her sons frequented both the Red Velvet Rope and the Midnight Peacock so that you would not go on the same nights as him.

“Perhaps, in that case I must insist that both the Sultana and your family must come for such a feast.” Ramsey invited. Not realizing what Demsey was really getting at.

“It would bring us great honor your Grace, in the meantime, might I have the first two dances with Sultana Audravienne?” Demsey asked.

“I believe I have already claimed them.” Ramsey argued smugly.

“The Dauphin has claimed the first two dances but you Duke Demsey, may claim the two after that if you are not already engaged.” You offered before you offered your dance card for him to sign on as he readily did.

Then the music started not long after as the Dauphin then led you to the dancefloor as you did your best to remember the steps as the Dauphin did nothing but flatter you and all moura gifts which you apparently possessed upon him just looking at you, all in marinai the whole time as you couldn’t help but notice Agnes’ scowl at you that you were dancing with the Dauphin and every time you saw her gaze you looked away, feeling her gaze strike at you and feared for Jane and what Jane would suffer because of your dancing with the Dauphin. You were ever so grateful when it was Demsey’s turn to dance with you.

“Audra, please, I really need to speak with you.” Demsey insisted.

“I’m so sorry your Grace, I’m so parched from dancing with the Dauphin, might we get some punch?” You suggested a little louder for Ramsey’s benefit before Demsey smiled in relief and happily led you away from the dancefloor as the two of you got punch and then slipped through the crowds, both of you weaving through like a thread through a tapestry until finally you found a mostly abandoned gallery of art as you both made a show of staring at all the art.

“So what would you like to say?” You murmured quietly.

“My sister lied to you a couple of weeks ago and instead of exposing the truth and potentially damaging her reputation, I didn’t say anything, and even when you asked me privately, I did not confess and I’m sorry. But there is no attachment between Lady Whitesale and I, I can barely stand her in truth. Kiera was simply saying that to protect me from the Countess Agnes Morrigan, but also at the time I didn’t want you to get the impression that your own dowry changed my mind on the matter. I was hoping to find a moment between then and now to talk to you but my own affairs with business have had me completely swamped and I have not had a moment of peace. While the Czarina and the Princess are lovely, I still prefer you to them, I...I have a partiality to you and I have been drawn to you since the moment we shared a cabin on the train those couple of weeks ago. And while I want nothing more than our own friendship to grow stronger, I also want to declare…” Demsey began before you were interrupted.

“Duke Voyambi, this is where you’ve taken my dearest Audra, I have wonderful news, the Czarina and the Princess would both like to invite you to stay at the royal palace of Windsor while they are here, they’ve been looking all over for you trying to tell you. I mentioned your desire to eat moura foods and the Czarina’s brothers jumped at the chance and have already left to prepare it for you themselves while the Princess’ brothers also have insisted on making you new soaps and beauty treatments, in fact they’ve insisted on going to your residence to sample what water is available there so that the soaps may be custom tailored just for you and what you need, they were most insistent.” Dauphin interrupted as he hurriedly walked into the room and over to you to steal you away as he took your arm and wrapped it around his own pullying you away from the Duke which you begrudgingly allowed.

“Oh, that’s very kind, but they just dropped off gifts at my residence and I have yet to even look at them and I was supposed to be inviting Countess Jane Morrigan over tonight to help me.” You tried to excuse yourself.

“Oh but even I must insist, even my sister the Dauphine Charlotte is also going to be staying, it seems every moura within the royal family will be coming, and you, the Czarina and the Princess will be the special guests, really even if your own guest is to be Countess Jane Morrigan, I was told by the Queen herself that I was not to take a ‘no’ for an answer and do whatever it was within my power to convince you to say yes.” The Dauphin insisted.

“Then I will agree upon two conditions.” You decided.

“Anything.” The Dauphin readily answered.

“That I may go home and pack myself, for there are certain things I wish to show the Czarina and the Princess,” you began.

“Of course, even if you were to compile a list, I’ll have my best people on it and your things will be at the house of Windsor by the end of the party.” Ramsey insisted.

“That’s very generous but the items I have in mind are actually hidden away, in a place I do not want it’s location disclosed, because they are very precious and sentimental items, I insist on doing it myself, and I promise I shall only be a moment, I shall leave early from the party tonight and then once I have what I need, I shall arrive at Windsor Palace as soon as I can.” You reassured him.

“So what is your second condition then?” Ramsey asked.

“For the Voyambi family to join as well.” You suggested in English before switching to marinai.

“How else is the excellent Duke ever supposed to side on a moura wife after just one dance when he has to share her with a whole ballroom of people? Really it would open his eyes to see what he would be getting into and who knows, his tastes might surprise us but in order to remain subtle, I should think the whole family should be invited, especially since he holds his sister’s opinions in such high regard, that way the mouras will have a chance to charm his parents and the rest of his family as well, and might as well invite Jane Morrigan too, no need for her to be involved directly with your investigation, she is still a sweet innocent young thing, let her parents pay for their own sins without inflicting any more upon her.” You suggested sweetly.

“Clever girl.” Ramsey praised in English.

“It’s how I’ve managed to stay alive,” you smiled but the look in your eyes thrilled Ramsey but Demsey knew better, with the revelation that Callellea disclosed to him. He knew it was probably only because of your wits that you survived even this long.

“Well upon the insistence of the Sultana that your family also be included and gave a very convincing argument, so let us not disappoint her, I will go with you to inform your parents so that they may send for your family’s things directly, and you’ll be staying at the Windsor Palace as well.” He insisted before the three of you went, as you took the Dauphin’s arm but reached behind you to grasp Demsey’s hand and give him meaningful look over your shoulder before you reluctantly withdrew from him as more people came into the gallery.

Once the Voyambi’s were informed you had the Dauphin go with you to the Morrigans to invite Jane to come with you as your personal friend to the Palace of Windsor with you of which Richard and Agnes were thrilled and happy to indulge you.

#Blood For Gold #Blood For Gold Part 6 #Oh now we are getting to the really good stuff #this is going to be so fun #regency era orc period drama #orcs #orc love story #moura

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isabeladraws · 4 years

Note

Do you have any hcs for your Lil and Bryce?

sorry it took so long to answer! these are very random but they’re very fun to write so thank you 💖

there’s a slow build up of bryce’s clothes in lilith’s bedroom

it started with a random sock, then a pair of gym shoes, a sweaty shirt

at some point jackie jokes he should pay for the laundry products with them

lilith caught feelings first

it hit lilith by random, they were just talking inbetween shifts and she just knew... her heart sank and she felt out of breath. bryce got so worried. lilith was saved by her pager

she freaked out because she knew bryce was not ready to open up just yet. and she was falling hard when they had barely scratched the surface of bryce’s real self

she tried to not see him for a week to figure her feelings out but it did not work. lilith kept bumping into him - on her way to lunch, inbetween shifts, on her way home. she can’t shake him.

he somehow remembered she only drinks plant milk (without lilith even telling him) and dropped off a giant latte late at night for her which made her want to jump off a bridge than deal with the feelings she had.

they text a lot at night. it’s when their conversations spark up

bryce and lilith often use the excuse of “studying” to meet up

obviously they do not study. sienna learnt the bad way, too many times. she’s seen way too much

lilith is the better cook for sure. she doesn’t mind cooking but it’s always a 50/50 chance it’s gonna suck

at some point lilith smells like bryce after he left his favorite perfume in her bedroom

they take rounds for who pays dinner. they usually eat dessert in another restaurant or pick up ice cream from a local pop-up. bryce never lets her pay for it and lilith got genuenely upset with him. she had the calculated change in her pocket since they order the same flavors everytime (lilith has a mix of vanilla and mango, bryce has a very generous scoop of cookie dough). once bryce saw the money in her hand he grabbed her hands and swiftly got the bill out of her grip. “you know the rules, valentine” “give it back, bryce!” “nah uh” they playfully wrestled each other, bryce won, she can’t get past his smirk. “you’re so annoying” “you like me that way”

(this is more book 2 territory but i do want to have a “fight” where they spit out their feelings and they can’t do much about it because there’s anger and confusion in the air OR MAYBE just full blown sex after realising their feelings are reciprocated. (hopefully keiki is not at the apt lmao) maybe bryce even gets mad by lilith not seeing how in love he is with her. her mind is so fogged with worries and fears and she doesn’t see the obvious while everyone else does. the jokes that insinuate they’re a couple messes her up because yeah they look like one, but there’s never any comfirmation from either that’s what their relationship is like. she’s dense and bryce finds it hard to say the words since he never had or wanted to.)

when lilith goes to his apt for the first time, she finds a little stash of vegan products in one of the cubbards. she thinks it might be for keiki so she asks her what is it that she can’t eat. keiki answers “i don’t have food restricitions” “so what’s all this vegan stuff?” bryce shyly answers he’d buy something vegan from the store that reminded him of lilith since she’s sensitive to milk. “i always forgot to bring it over your house so it kinda just sat here for when you came by”

when. not if... when

lilith smiled, and barely contained the urge to makeout with him right there.

bryce put lilith on the good quality pricey shampoo train. she got upset when she had to repurchase them because they’re over 30$ but lilith’s never going back

bryce doesn’t help at all with impulse-puppy-adopting-control. lilith tries to rationalize they don’t have a lot of time to raise a puppy but they keep scrolling through websites. they do this for almost a year until they finally bite the bullet and adopt a puppers.

the puppy also forces them to realise they should just move in together instead of living in different places.

lilith is more scared than bryce is, which surprises him because he’s the one that was afraid of committment.

they enjoy buying furniture and decor together. they have similar taste which helps. some of their dates make up of going to thrift stores and looking for cool nicknacks. whoever gets the best item gets to have a special massage.

i don’t see them with kids

even before they’re official, they have scheduled dates in one of the supply closets for pep talks and rants. sometimes they just sit there and hold each other because they’re so tired and just need a minute.

bryce cannot stop posting about lilith on instagram

ethan made a snarky comment once about it. lilith just said “you can unfollow him, you know”

he looked appalled. “i could never.” “then, it’s above me, dr. ramsey”

they love to watch tv shows together. they have fun with very tacky reality tv.

when lilith’s starting to want a real relationship, craving him more and more, she gets scared he’ll pull away if she tells him how she feels

bryce is a good dancer. he loves latin music. do whatever you will with this. don’t @ me I’M RIGHT. he has the ass range

they love to go to concerts together. the gang usually tags along too, which they don’t mind.

AGAIN: sorry for typos, i don’t feel like proofreading this. i wanted to do more but i need to go back to uni work. i hope you like these 😌

#lilith valentine #anonymous #aq #bryce lahela #bryce x mc

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pxnk-velvet · 3 years

Text

The Dancing Warrior: Water, Chapter 8

(Sokka x OC Reader)

“I don’t even know where to begin!” Aunt Wu exclaimed, cradling Navani’s hand in hers.

Navani just sat on her knees with wide eyes, speechless. Not out of shock, well, maybe a little, but mostly from the fact that she just simply didn’t know what to say.

Aunt Wu continued, “My, my dear. You have much significance in your life. You are going to do great things!”

Navani opened her mouth to speak, but shied away quickly after.

Aunt Wu smiled, “I can tell you have a lot on your mind. Tell me, dear.”

“Ok...” Navani sighed, “I just have so many questions and I don’t even know if I’ll get the answers and-“

“Take a deep breath and relax. Open your mind to receiving the information I am about to tell you.” Aunt Wu instructed, taking hold of Navani’s wrists.

Navani did as told, allowing her muscles to relax, “Ok.”

“Like I mentioned before, you are on to do great things in life. Now and later in your life. You were destined for this. As well as your abilities. I can tell that when you were born, you were chosen. The planets were aligned just right and the universe allowed for the unity of two elements within you. The connection between your parents with contradicting bending types is what allowed you to obtain control over water and fire. You are one of the few dual benders known to man. The last fire and water bender known had died over 15,000 years ago. So you, my dear, are the first in quite a long time and indeed, special.”

She was officially shocked now, “How did you know? I didn’t mention anything about my bending.”

Aunt Wu chuckled, “I can tell because of your palms. Each type of bending has different feelings or textures on a palm. And you, my dear, are a perfect mix of water and fire. That’s how I know your parents has a deep connection within themselves. Because you are equally powerful bender water or fire. Even though fire is your more dominant form, you hold a lot of potential with your water bending. Not only is your bending exceptionally developed, you fight and dancing skills are like no other. Often times when doing so, the lines between the two blur. This is why you are known as The Dancing Warrior across all of the land. Many people, myself included, have seen you perform.”

Navani’s mood deflated at the small detail, maybe she was just making this all up if she already knew of her. But....she knew about her dual bending when nobody but herself, her friends, and her mother knew. She decided on letting it slide, shaking the though from her mind.

“Now, my dear, let’s move onto your future.”

Navani perked up and there was no denying that she wasn’t just the slightest bit excited for this part.

“I see in your future that you will have great impact on future generations. Inventing and teaching a whole new style of combat that will last a life time.” Aunt Wu gushed, running her fingers ove Navani’s palm like she had done before.

“You will marry a strong young man. At the moment he still has yet to mature into manhood. However his time with you will teach him many things, like how to love without fear of lose. How to be mature, yet still have a fun glow to himself. And you are very lucky, my dear, because you’ve already met him!”

Navani gasped, “I have! What’s his name?”

Aunt Wu gave a hearty chuckle, “That you’ll have to figure out for yourself, dear. Let’s continue, shall we? How about we discuss your children.”

Navani’s eyebrows raised as she nodded, surprised at the sudden switch of subject.

“You and your future husband will want a lot of children.”

Navani recoiled, “Eh. I’m not the biggest fan of children. They’re so much work.”

Aunt Wu chuckled yet again, “That change come your marriage, dear....However, for some reason, I only see two in your future. To put it frankly, you’re going to have a hard time trying. You will try time and time again but in the end you’ll only have a son and a daughter. They will both be strong individuals. They will be the ones to continue your legacy and family, enlarging it greatly.”

“Really?” Navani wondered, “So that means I’m going to have a lot of grandchildren?”

“Exactly, my dear! 5 grandsons and 2 granddaughters to be specific. They are going to have a strong bond.”

Navani smiled at the thought, “At least they have each other. Could you maybe tell me more about this guy I’m going to marry?” She pushed with a guilty smile.

===

“Welp, now you got to see that fortune telling is just a big stupid hoax!” Sokka exclaimed as the group left Aunt Wu’s place, “Right, Navani?”

“Huh?” She was so caught up in her head that she hadn’t been paying attention, walking aimlessly by Sokka’s side.

“You’re just saying that because you’re gonna make yourself unhappy your whole life.” Katara threw back at him with a smirk.

“That woman is crazy.” Sokka yelled out, “My life will be calm and happy and joyful!”

He angrily kicked a rock, only to have it ricochet off of a sign and hit him in the head.

“Oh, Sokka!” Navani rushed over to help him off the ground.

“That doesn’t prove anything!”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything! Aunt Wu told me the future is always changing with every little decision you make.” Navani explained, grabbing Sokka by the arm and hauling him up, onto his feet.

“Well, I liked my predictions.” Katara said happily, “Certain things are gonna turn out very well.”

Aang smiled, “They sure are.”

Katara turned to him with an interested look on her face, “Why? What did she tell you?”

Navani giggled as Aang responded, “Some....stuff. You’ll find out.”

“Navani,” Katara called, “What did Aunt Wu say for you?”

“Oh, well...uh,” She shied away, kicking the ground with the toe of her shoe, “She told me why I can bend two elements. And that I’m going to marry a handsome, strong guy and we’re going to have a big family together with lots of grandkids.”

“Don’t you mean regular kids?” Sokka questioned from her side. Katara quick to hit her brother’s arm for asking such a personal question.

“Apparently, in the future it’s going to be a struggle for me to have children....” The girl explained, heat rising to her cheeks as she rubbed the back of her neck, embarrassed.

At this point the group had continued walking through the small village.

Katara came quick to the rescue, “Well, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Everyone is different. But you are going to have kids right?”

Navani nodded, keeping her head down, “Yeah, she said I’d have a son and daughter. I guess I’m ok with it because I don’t really like kids. But Aunt Wu said that would change once I got married.”

“Well,” Sokka turned to her, “I’m sure whoever marries you will be one lucky guy.” Only loud enough for Navani to here.

She gave a quick thanks, the blush on her cheeks before now a blazing pink.

“What did she say about your bending?” Aang asked excitedly with a little skip in his walk.

Navani perked up at this, “She said I was the first fire and water bender in over 15,000 years! And that the reason I can bend two elements in the first place is because the universe chose me! Can you believe it?”

“Wow! I wish I was specially picked by the universe.” Aang said jokingly, raising his arms to the sky.

“Aang!” The three others exclaimed with their jaws on the floor.

“What?”

Sokka shouted, “You’re the Avatar for spirits sake! What could be more special then that!”

===

After the small population of the village had gathered in the square for Aunt Wu’s prediction, which was a disaster to say the least, Navani had found herself strolling through the streets. Walking quietly as her thoughts rattled around in her head. She was thinking about everything but nothing at the same time. It was hard to focus on one thing when it had all been thrown in her face like that. She was trying her best to comprehend as much as possible. Eventually she gave up, deciding she needed to just push those thoughts aside and focus on something else. As of the moment, her stomach was speaking to her. Loudly.

Soon she found herself at a little fruit stand, looking at the colorful assortment. Deciding on some mango slices.

She picked up the little parcel, turning to the young man running the stand, “How much for the mango slices?”

The man, or boy for that matter, looked about her age and very handsome. He flashed her a warm smile and said, “It’s on the house. Some delicious mango for a beautiful lady.” He bowed lightly with a look in his eye.

She smiled brightly, cocking her head, “Why, thank you. Have a nice day.” She spoke over her shoulder as she turned to walk off. Her stomach grumbled wildly and she knew she couldn’t wait any longer, so she continued on.

She unraveled the parcel, turning the corner of a build. Only to come face first with a blue Water Tribe tunic. She fell flat on her butt, making sure her mango slices did not fall from her clutch.

“Jeez, Navani. What’s with you always running into me?” Sokka teased, taking hold of the girl and helping her into her feet.

She scoffed and nudged his shoulder playfully, falling into step with him as they walked side by side down the stree. “Me?! Maybe you should be more aware of your surroundings next time,” She retorted, taking a bite of her snack.

He laughed, “Well I’m not the one stuffing mango in my face.” She scrunched her nose, finishing off her slice and offering one to him.

He took it from her, his fingers gliding against her ever so slightly, popping it into his mouth. She continued, “I’m hungry, alright? You can’t blame a girl for a bodily function.”

They both gave hearty laughed, as they continued on with their little stroll, sharing mango slices. After a short while, Navani had taken notice to how close they were walking together. So close that every so often their knuckles would brush against each other, causing an eruption of butterflies in her stomach. Eventually they slowed as they passed a beautiful fountain. She had been admiring the water and the way it glistened in the sun when she felt his gaze on her. She turn and looked up at him, meeting his eyes. With a heart melting smile, she took his hand in hers. Giggling at the bright blush on his cheeks.

He looked down at their hands then back up at her, “You have really soft hands.”

All anyone within earshot could hear was the two teenagers laughing, simply enjoying a nice time.

[][][]

Taglist!

(Always open, just let me know if you want to be added! ❤️)

@harmlessoffering

@eat-a-brick714

@none-of-ur-frackin-business

@smolbitch2006

@the-natureofme

@kaylove12

#avatar the last airbender #aang the last airbender #sokka #sokka x oc #sokka imagine #sokka x reader #atla sokka #sokka of the southern water tribe #katara #aang #toph #zuko #iroh #navani #original character #series

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mxrcayong · 4 years

Text

the avatar series: 01.16

masterlist.

previous | next

chapter sixteen

It seemed as everyone was walking on broken glass today; creeping around as if the very words to even address the events of tonight were venomous. To replace the topic of great anticipation, discussions regarding the weather and newest music favorites echoed throughout the island.

The White Lotus Society hasn’t had to prepare for an event similar since even before Avatar Aang passed away. Consequently, even the most experienced society members are unsure how to help out Tari and her companions. Everyone, even Sukiara, has been walking around the island as if one wrong move – one misstep will cause the ocean to swallow Bak Mei whole.

The only society members who seemed to know what today needed were the chefs, as they produced what seemed to be an endless amount of food from all four of the nations in order to give everyone a little bit of home before the event of tonight.

Yuta was focused on the plate in front of him, his utensils digging deep into the series of dishes he chose from the buffet. “This reminds me so much of home.” He moaned, biting into the Komodo Chicken prepared for lunch.

“Okay but would you rather know every native language known to man or have all the knowledge, except languages, from Wan’s Library?” Sonan asked, ignoring Yuta’s praise, as she gulped down her Mango and Lychee tea.

“Wan’s Library, 1000%.” Doyoung insisted, furrowing his eyebrows and flinching his head back. The answer was obvious to him, he’d bet his extra bowl of tofu and mung bean curry.

Yuta hummed, “I agree.”

“I’d say languages.” Jisung shrugged as he finished his side plate of octopus fritters. His answer made Yuta and Doyoung turn their heads harshly to face him in shock. “What! Native languages allows you to speak to everyone in this world, you can learn relevant knowledge from them!” His voice increased in pitch as he defended his opinion.

“No yeah, I agree with Jisung.” Kilari jumped up to defend him, despite her mouth still being full of smoked sea slug pieces. “I rather be able to talk to everyone living than know everything about the past.”

Yuta faked disgust, before turning to Johnny who was drinking his favorite cherry-berry smoothie. “You?”

“I would say languages so I can translate my articles and even reach out to larger audiences.” Johnny shrugged, “But, I would love the information on fighting techniques from the library.”

“You have to pick one!” Sonan challenged.

“You haven’t picked yourself!” Johnny teased, his head leaning in mockingly. Sonan remained tight-lipped as a result, playfully rolling her eyes as if she was annoyed.

Jisung furrowed his eyebrows, “Anyways, wasn’t Wan’s library a myth?”

To Tari’s surprise, it wasn’t only her who shook her head. Tari’s past life witnessed the sinking of Wan’s famous library, but she can’t be certain that he addressed it to the public. From Johnny, Doyoung, and Sonan nodding – she can tell that others have heard the tales. Sonan, however, might’ve been told the stories as a bedtime story as her father was actually there and one of the causes behind the sudden flooding of sand.

Tari smiled. Although the terrible events of tonight are ahead of them, they are able to relax for a while. Yes, through the last few days – they haven’t always been talking about the upcoming battle, but this is the first time Tari relished in this distraction. Despite her recent thinking she’d be better off alone, she can’t be happier with the people she was with now.

She felt overflowing with gratitude. Eventually, she dazed out of the conversation and observed the smiles on their faces – the laughter, the light-hearted conversation. For once, everything felt normal. Everything felt like it had been before the attacks. Tari ended up grinning at anything and everything. Right now, Tari can’t care less if her friendships with them doesn’t transcend lifetimes. What she cares about is that she’s with them now, and there’s no place she’d rather be.

“Tari?” Sonan waved her hand in front of Tari’s eyes, successfully breaking her out of her trance.

Tari’s eyes widened, her eyebrows lifting and humming as if to ask her to repeat what she said. She couldn’t say it with words – her mouth was full of five-flavor soup and she knew if she’d talk right now, it’d look disgusting.

“She said…” Yuta nudged Tari’s knee with his own, a small smirk playing on his lips. “…would you rather live in the Fire Lord’s old beach home or in a home Ba Sing Se?”

“Modern Ba Sing Se or past as in with the Dai Li?” Tari asked, knowing that’ll completely impact her answer. It’s all about being decisive, but like Aang said – the situation matters.

Climbing onto the bison felt like heaving a million rocks to the top of the mountain.

Maybe it’s the knowledge that there is a possibility they’ll die, or they’ll lose something about themselves, be it bending or a sense of carelessness about world events. Maybe it’s the knowledge that after tonight, the city will completely change.

The day full of distracted dialogue and varying conversations has long been forgotten with the sunset ahead of them. They have four hours until the bending event starts, which means around three hours to get there and get on the attendance sheet. It takes an hour and so to get there, but they need time to get out of their White Lotus robes, pajamas, and hand-me-down clothes.

Tari’s companions seem to have never flew a flying bison without the heaviness on their shoulders and the weights in their feet. From travelling there to travelling home, every moment on the bison was thick with tension. The Avatar only wishes that they could experience a ride free of worries. “Shall we sing a song?” Johnny joked, nudging Doyoung who took that as a sign to immediately start singing.

Tari looked at her friends’ faces - all smiling, singing and humming. Despite the anxiety coursing through her veins, she wished this moment never ends.

“I forgot how buff Johnny was.” Kilari gasped, spotting Johnny approach the meeting spot with his sleeveless V-neck black vest and tight black tactical pants Tari recognized from their adventures rock climbing. His muscles were practically bulging, taking everyone’s - particularly Kilari’s - breath away. “Why doesn’t he show it off more often?” She whispered to Sonan and Tari, making the two roll their eyes – although they’re both truly impressed with his figure.

Sonan chuckled, “Don’t check out our friend, oh my gosh.” She rolled her eyes, “Plus, I thought you liked Yuta.” Kilari shrugged with a small smirk.

“Nothing wrong with checking out the views.” She commented off-handily before moving to look at Yuta, who like Johnny, was wearing a sleeveless shirt although more loose with the top buttons undone. “Yuta is definitely not as buff, but still, hot damn.”

Doyoung furrowed his eyebrows. “Why aren’t I getting any comments?” He playfully pouted. Tari immediately brightened up at that comment, chuckling, before going to lovingly hold his arm in a hug.

“We love you really.” Tari smiled up at him, resting her chin on his shoulder.

Sonan nudged Doyoung, “It’s just you came with us so we can’t comment discreetly about what you’re wearing.” Doyoung, unlike Johnny and Yuta who were flaunting their biceps, was wearing a windbreaker over his shirt.

“How we feeling?” Jisung asked through gritted teeth as everyone formed a circle, his anxieties and concern obvious to everyone. “I think we can do it.” Tari had a feeling he was saying that due to the Law of Attraction rather than his own belief.

Tari lifted her hand up and rested it on Jisung’s shoulder, “You can go home.” She smiled sadly, knowing what it’s like to be so young and forced into a dangerous situation. Her arm slithered around his shoulders and brought him to a tight hug, hoping to calm down his nerves. “You’re on the attendance sheet, but it won’t matter. After tonight, it’ll be over.”

And she means it. She’ll die before she lets anything happen to Jisung and her friends.

Jisung shook his head. “I can hold my own.” He insisted, his lips forming a small pout that Tari understands was supposed to be intimidating. Kilari, as a result, reached over and pinched his cheek and chuckled – making Jisung flustered.

“He’s the Mouse.” Yuta winked at Tari - an action Johnny didn’t miss. “Don’t underestimate him.”

Tari sighed. “I’m not,” she explained, “You guys can all go home. This is my fight.”

If Kilari wasn’t held back by Sonan, she would’ve slapped her. “This isn’t just your fight. We love and care about you.” Kilari basically barked, “You don’t have to be alone.”

But being alone is all I know, Tari wanted to respond. You guys deserve better, she wanted to let them know.

“Stop being stupid.” Johnny sighed, “You’d do the same for us.”

“And not just because you’re the Avatar.” Doyoung seemed to read her mind.

“I know I’ve been mad at you recently, but,” Kilari let out – obviously reluctantly. She always hated admitting her mistakes. “I love you more than you know, and I’ll do anything, anything, to protect you.”

Sonan let out a chuckle, “Sounding like a real Fire Sage there, Kilari.” She winked, before reaching out to the right and grabbing Kilari’s hand. Her left hand went to grab Jisung’s. “Tari, we’re in this together. You aren’t forcing us. We’re here because we love you…and because this affects us too.” She teased lovingly. Jisung and Kilari were quick to continue reaching to their sides, holding the hand of whoever is next to them.

Her heart felt elated as she noticed everyone nodding, and slowly start to hold hands. How am I so lucky? A smile graced her face before even realizing.

“Are we really doing this cliché?” Doyoung basically groaned, earning himself a punch from Johnny. “Fine.” Doyoung did the final connection – interlacing his fingers with Tari.

“I would say put our hands in the center and scream ‘Team Avatar’, but that’ll give away our position.” Johnny whispered loudly so that everyone could hear him, making everyone chuckle. Tari could always count on him for lightening the mood.

Sonan smiled at Tari, without Tari noticing. She smiled at how Tari finally looked comfortable in her own skin, how her smile didn’t seem forced. The oldest girl felt proud for how far Tari has gone over the last few days. Tari’s smile even was present when they let go of their hands and huddled closer together. But she had to get back on track. Sukiara wasn’t here and she was the one who knew the plan best. “Okay, Johnny and I will have to sneak in cause we aren’t benders.” She reminded, “so we need at least two of you guys to cause a bit of a scene – Kilari and Yuta, right?” The attendance was sorted out by gender, therefore Yuta would help Johnny sneak in while Kilari would help Sonan in. “But we need to spread out to cover more ground.”

Everyone nodded. “Everyone ready?” And the question was met with seven thumbs up.

Almost in an act of further disrespect, the government decided to hold the event at the NCT theater. The entrances were flooding with security, and Tari was so glad that The White Lotus society created pole weapons in the shape of pens.

The reason for pole weapons? Tari insisted on avoiding causalities. The supporters of the cause may be forced into it rather than wanting to do it.

Making her way through the crowd, her heart was racing miles per second. What if something goes wrong? She thought, What if I’m not a good enough bender?

But eventually, she got to the attendance paper. And Johnny was right. As soon as she said her name, the security told her to go to a ‘special’ area after giving her a stamp on her hand. As soon as she stepped foot inside, she noticed that the shrine for the bender killed in the attacks was ruined – the candles gone. His lights have been dimmed and Tari was infuriated. Her heart hurt for his family, for his children who may forget his legacy of fighting against wrong-doers.

I will die for this cause. She reminded herself. I cannot back out now. This is for the good of everyone. So, she started looking around and memorizing the stadium as organized by the government. She needed to have an upper hand, and that meant making sure they don’t have any upper hands they think they have.

The crowd felt like an overpacked can of tuna – everyone pressed against each other, unable to have their own personal space. They are cattle, stuffed together in one big cage to be slaughtered. But there was one easy way to make through the crowds – evident through the Equalist guards, who were wearing an all-black outfit with hoods and metal masks with green eyes. They looked like they’d be ready for anything, especially as they were armed.

Tari scanned each of the routes, trying to memorize their layout like the back of her hand. The stadium was divided into four parts – ordered like the Avatar Cycle. Water and earth on one side of the stadium, while fire and air on the other side. There were guards circling the stage where boxing would happen, and even more guards marching down and up the divisions. She, herself, was standing in the box where close friends or family would sit to watch the fighters.

She knew whoever was in charge must be in the underground room, where Yuta and Jisung explained most of the training and preparation happens before a fight. I need to find escape routes, she thought as she knew she needed to make sure her friends get out of the arena if needed once the fight starts.

Eventually, her inner voice hushed down as the entrance doors had shut after an hour of waiting. This is where it starts, she thought, no turning back. Tari focused on the sounds of the doors amongst the loud noises of the crowd talking to each other. No one seemed to notice the sound of harsh locks on the door.

She continuously searched the environment, her heart thumping viciously as if it’s trying to break out of her chest. In her smaller box, she recognized four other names from the list. Jaemin and Jeno weren’t there, although they were born the same year and from the North Water Tribe. Then again, they were cancelled out as they ‘showed no signs of being the Avatar’ when visiting Roddie’s house, according to the sheet.

And within minutes, the stage went dark.

“Good evening.” A haunting voice echoed off the floors, bouncing off each body. “I am the leader, Amon.” It sounded almost ghostly yet mechanical. “We are creating a society where no one will have to live in fear again.” From the voice, Tari could describe them as confident, regretless, and eerie.

Suddenly, the lights went back up. A man wearing a mask stood in the center, where the shrine was, with G-Dragon and the Big Bang Crew chained. At every side of the square box, there was a table with someone there. Hundreds and hundreds of metal bands rested there. But dead center - just right behind the man, was a large box that looked like a soundproof booth. “We will be implementing measures to ensure your bending goes to check.” She heard groans from the audience, people trying to push through. “This is a mandatory change, and you will be arrested as soon as you leave the building.” The movement in the crowd stopped.

“Now,” Amon paused for dramatic effect, “are you ready to be equalized?”

She knows it has to be now, she knows this is it. But she wanted to make sure everyone is okay. She felt the breath leaving her chest when she realized she won’t be able to see Doyoung and Johnny – her usual peace of mind.

Tari looked across the crowd to look at the earth nation section. She saw Jisung and Sonan standing within a feet of each other, looking over to her.

You ready? She mouthed.

Jisung closed his eyes and nodded, she turned to Sonan who gave her a look that reminded Tari to do what she needs to do, to do whatever it takes.

And then with the click of the button, the stadium went dark and the only thing she could hear were thousands of screams.

request anything for future parts / penny for your thoughts here

#nct-writers #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct angst #nct dream angst #nct scenarios #johnny imagines #yuta imagines #doyoung imagines #jisung imagines #nct series #nct au imagines #NCT #nct doyoung #nct dream #nct dream imagines

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purplesurveys · 4 years

Text

759

Who was the last person you flirted with? Probably my girlfriend cause she’s the only reason I’d flirt with anyone. Not that I do it a lot though, it’s not really my cup of tea. If other people lived on Mars, would you move there? It would depend if I can even afford the opportunity and if they’re treating Mars as shittily as they did Earth. If no lessons were learned, I’d rather stay here. Who was the last person you flipped off? I haven’t done this in a while because I definitely wouldn’t do this to my family, who are the only people I’ve seen in a while hahaha. Maybe Andrew? when they said one of their witty jokes. Have you ever wanted to run after someone but your legs wouldn't take you? Sure, but only from playing chase as kids. I’ve never had a reason to run after anyone. Who last stared at you? Kimi does this all the time. I got water from the fridge five minutes ago and he stared the entire time.

Who was the last person you cried over? My mom, when she told me mean things a couple of weeks ago. What sound makes you cringe? When someone accidentally directly scrapes their fork against a plate it makes me die inside. Really bad and hoarse coughing also stresses me out, mostly because I feel for the person having to go through it. If the world were to end tomorow, who would you fuck? o_o These questions would usually just ask about who I’d say bye to, but I guess we’re leveling up lol. If this was happening, I’d break all the quarantine rules and go to Gabie to spend time with her and...sure, have sex, I guess. If you had a tree that could grow anything you want, what would it grow? Macarons. Whose photo did you last look at? Gabie took a photo of their neighbor’s dog for me to see. What movie are you craving to see? I can’t wait for the new movie with Kristen Stewart and Mackenzie Davis (who played Yorkie from the San Junipero episode of Black Mirror), I think it’s called Happiest Season. It’s the lesbian pairing I never thought I’d need. What do you think about chainmail? Childish. I never felt the need to join them. What is the book you are currently reading about? I’ve taken to rereading Crazy Is My Superpower, which is WWE wrestler AJ Lee’s memoir. I realize I never actually got to read the last two chapters because school made me busy at some point last year, so I’m revisiting the book again and hopefully make it to the very end this time. Who was the last person to pick you up? Like, physically? Or with a car? In any case, it was Gabie. If someone tells you not to do something, do you do it anyway? Nah I’m not one of those people. I have an unavoidable need to follow the rules or at least, that command, and to bail when a friend decides to break them haha. When's the last time you smelt the awful stench of a skunk? We don’t have skunks here. I'm only aware of how bad it is because their stench is a Jelly Belly flavor lolol. What was the last popsicle flavor you had? Chocolate. Who did you last write a letter to? Gabie. I put in a handwritten letter along with her Christmas gifts. What are you wearing around your neck? Nothing’s on it, just the neckline of my t-shirt. What song best describes you? Right now it’s probably Ain’t It Fun by Paramore. I’m feeling the shoutout more and more as I’m getting older haha. What are your top 5 favorite stores? I don’t really do stores since I really just like eating out more when I’m at the mall, butttttt I guess (in no particular order) H&M, Zara, Mango, Fully Booked, and Satchmi. The first three sell clothes, the fourth is a bookstore, the last one is a vinyl record store that doubles as a café. Have you accidently mistaken a stranger for someone you know? I probably called a stranger mommy or daddy as a kid. Who did you last blow a kiss at? My dog, most likely. Have you ever seen lava in real life? Nope. But ashfall, yes. Our balcony and rooftop were full of it after the Taal erupted last January. Who last touched you in a naughty place? My girlfriend. If you could speak an animal language, what would it be? I’d love to be able to talk to my dog and find out what he wants whenever he gets all restless and paces around in the living room. How do babies make you feel? Egh, depends on how they behave. If the baby is cute and well-behaved, it reminds me that I really want kids. If they’re thrashing about and wreaking havoc, it reminds me that I still want kids but but that I vow not to be as terrible as whoever their parents are. Why did you last feel guilty? We lost our internet connection last night and given that that’s the biggest thing keeping me sane during the quarantine, I felt guilty being in a foul mood towards my parents and Gabie lol. What compliment do you get a lot? That I’m a magnet for noticing the small details work-wise, and that I’m sincere. I get them an equal amount, I’d say. Have you ever drank soy sauce? I’m Asian and I can tell you that is disgusting and extremely salty and unhealthy. Hard pass. How old will you be on your next birthday? 23. Does your best friend get pissed off easily? Gabie can have a bit of a short fuse. Angela’s chill about everything. Have you ever been on the edge of death? The one time it felt like this for me was when I had food poisoning around five years ago. Nothing like being curled up on the bathroom floor at 3 AM just waiting for death. How do you feel about your school? I’m very proud of it, its history, its culture, and its reputation. It’s my absolute dream school. But I’m not proud of the fact that we have also given the country some of our shittest politicians. What did you last flick? A grain of rice that was on the table. Do you have a disease? Nope. Do you ride a bus often? I never do on my own; I only get to be on them if I’m on a school trip or if we’re on a family vacation and riding a bus is part of the itinerary. I don’t take them because I find them crowded, hot, and some freaks are known to harass/molest women there so I’ve been permanently scared off of buses. Plus I have a car, and I prefer going to places by myself. How many people do you know that have your name? There were two people named Robin and Robyn from AIESEC that I got to meet before I bailed from the application; a Robin from my org; a Robin from my old school; Rihanna’s first name is Robyn haha, so five. We’re a small circle. When was the last time you washed your hands? This morning. How do you feel about the last person you texted? We’ll go with last messaged* because I haven’t texted in a while. She makes me happy. Who did you last bite? I only ever playfully bite my girlfriend lol, that’d be so weird to do to other people... Would you ever make a bucket list? Yeah, but nothing grand. I remember making a bucket list for all the museums I wanted to go to and noting them in one of my old Starbucks planners.

#survey #surveys

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dragunjk · 6 years

Text

exchange ;; baby it’s true, exes change (49)

•• july 20th,, 2k17 ; 2:45 p.m ••

words ; 1075

genre ; chill ?? fluff

warnings ; none

———

“Here Chubs, your favorite-“ Yoongi slid into the booth next to Y/n, passing her an ice cream cone with two scoops of mango ice cream, a pair of maraschino cherries on top. Y/n smiled, picking the cherries off the top, handing one over across the table to Hoseok, eyes lighting up at the heart smile that adorned his face.

“Alright, let’s get this straight, so our precious little peach over here-“ Seokjin waved his hand sarcastically, gesturing to Y/n. “-had sex with you two-“ He pointed at Jungkook and Yoongi, who sat on either side of Y/n in the booth. “-multiple times, Taehyung and Jimin too?” Jin asked, and Y/n sheepishly ducked her head, eating her ice cream.

“When you say it like that, it sounds bad-“ Y/n muttered, and Jin shrugged, taking a spoon and scooping up a bite of his own strawberry ice cream. “-it was all, consensual, I- I know that I shouldn’t have even done it- I should’ve just kept it with Yoongi, to not break people’s hearts, to not fuck myself over-“ Y/n’s hands started to get shaky. Hoseok reached over, grasping Y/n’s free hand in his own, squeezing it slightly.

“Hey, relax sunshine. We aren’t judging you, you’re your own person, you can do what you’d like, as long as you’re healthy and safe.” Hoseok hummed, nudging Seokjin slightly. “What’s the problem, is it Jimin? Taehyung?” Hoseok caught Y/n’s eyes again, keeping her attention on him, ignoring Jin’s ignorance.

“No, no-“ Y/n shook her head. “-I- Jimin-“ Y/n furrowed her eyebrows, eating more of her ice cream. “Jimin is my problem, yeah- I just don’t understand why he’s switching his words? One minute he says he loves me, then the next he just, is telling Taehyung and Saiya that the only thing I’m good for is sex.” Y/n lowered her voice, deciding her ice cream wasn’t as appetizing anymore.

She handed it over to Jungkook, who took a lick, before speaking. “That just shows you how much of a fucking asshole Jimin is. Not saying that you don’t have a say, but if you do get back with him I might have to whoop his ass.” Jungkook shrugged, leaning back slightly. Y/n chewed on her bottom lip, fiddling with her fingers. Yoongi cocked his head, leaning down to meet Y/n’s gaze.

“Hey-“ Yoongi gingerly lifted Y/n’s chin with his pointer finger, making her face him. “-we’re here to help you, not to get mad at you.” He hummed, seeing the clear worry in her eyes. “Jimin doesn’t deserve you, okay? You’re a beautiful woman, who has a good heart, and whoever you end up with, if they break your heart I’m kicking their teeth in.” Yoongi smiled softly at Y/n’s little giggle.

“Hey-“ Jin caught the tables attention. “-Jimin and Taehyung are wondering where we are-“ He looked at Y/n with slight concern. “-do you want me to tell them to come here, or not?” He asked, and Y/n shrugged, nodding slightly. “If he starts bothering you, we can take a walk.” Jin spoke, texting the two boys back. Y/n frowned slightly, looking at Jungkook.

“What’s wrong chula?” Jungkook asked, cocking his head slightly. Y/n pouted as he tossed the last of the sugar cone into his mouth.

“I kinda wanted my ice cream back.” Y/n whined slightly, and Jungkook groaned, as she laughed. Hobi grabbed her hand again, keeping her focused.

“Listen, you have to make up your mind Y/n. If you keep pushing it away, it’s going to keep eating at you.” Hoseok frowned slightly, and Y/n nodded, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Make up your mind about what?” Jimin’s voice asked, and Y/n shifted slightly, allowing Taehyung to slip between her and Yoongi. He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, and Jimin shot a glare at the two. Hobi shrugged, letting go of Y/n’s hand, allowing Tae to lace their fingers beneath the table.

“Ice cream. She’s making a fuss because Jungkook stole hers.” Hobi laughed, playing off his little speech. He quickly winked at Y/n, who smiled. Tae squeezed her hand slightly.

“Do you want me to get you one Kitten?” Tae asked, and Y/n nodded. “Two scoops of mango with two cherries, right?” He asked, slipping out of the booth. Y/n smiled cutely at him, nodding. She didn’t think he knew her ice cream order. Jimin rolled his eyes slightly, and Jungkook smirked.

“Jimin can you get me an ice cream?” The youngest asked, and Jimin shrugged, pulling out his wallet.

“What do you want?” Jimin asked, looking for the right dollar bill.

“Oreo. Please and thank you.” Jungkook smiled, and Jimin nodded, walking to stand behind Taehyung in line. Jin slammed his hands on the table dramatically.

“Are you fucking kidding me? He calls you Kitten? And you call him Tiger, but in Spanish?” Jin asked, and Y/n nodded as he finished his ice cream. “That’s literally the cutest shit I’ve ever heard, it’s actually making me mad.” Jin muttered, and Y/n laughed, leaning against Yoongi slightly.

“You need to talk to Jimin, Chubs. You two need to sit down, and talk it out, because if you still have feelings for him, you want to know if you’re going to be played or not.” Yoongi spoke, and Jungkook leaned forward to look at the older male, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Are you fucking crazy? After all he said to her, you really think she wants to walk alone with him just to talk out their feelings?” Jungkook asked, looking at Yoongi like he was crazy.

“It’s the only way Y/n is gonna get the answers she wants. Might as well.” Yoongi shrugged, and Tae and Jimin approached the table, a smile on Tae’s face as he handed Y/n her ice cream. Jimin slid Jungkook’s to him, and the younger male nodded in appreciation.

“Jimin, can we go for a walk?” Y/n asked, and he furrowed his eyebrows, as did Tae.

“Yeah, of course.” Jimin nodded, and Y/n slid out the booth, allowing Yoongi and Tae to sit back down. Splitting the cherries once more, she handed one to Tae, a sweet smile on her face, before the pair of exes walked out of the ice cream parlor.

———

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cedarmoons · 6 years

Text

companion to this oneshot + @katharaya u know what u did

She takes none of his jewelry, except the heart-shaped emerald she wears around her neck; she finds Nadia’s letters to her, and Asra’s, all of them wrapped in twine. She finds the black-and-grey photograph of the three of them, taken in their youth, and the photograph of them with the children, and she slips them both between the letters.

She takes his red looped scarf, and winds it around her shoulders, lifting it to cover her hair as well.

She makes other basic preparations, and then she leaves Vesuvia. She returns to the Waste.

Korra comes to her in dreams, the first night she spends alone. She is forty-seven, with streaks of grey in her hair, and Ziah feels sick. She still remembers the day she had met her first daughter, when she had been young and prideful and young.

And now, she is twenty years older than Ziah looks.

“Where’s dama?” Korra asks. “He’s not answering when I reach for him—”

Ziah breaks the dream, and wakes with tears on her face. She restarts the campfire she had huddled beside, and reads Asra and Nadia’s letters collected over the years, holding the emerald in her palm. It is warm, and though Asra’s magic had faded long ago, the feel of it is still a comfort.

I’ll be lonely until the next time I can wake up next to you two, Asra had written, ages ago. She remembers the weight of Nadia’s arms around her as they had read the postcard in their bed. She remembers Nadia kissing her shoulder, smiling against her cheek.

Be back soon.

She does not even notice she is crying until the first tear falls and smears the ink. “No,” she gasps, and bends the water out of the card, but it is too late. The old ink is lost. “No,” she whispers, wiping at her face with the scarf. “Please...”

I’ll be lonely until the next time I can wake up nex Be

“Please,” she whispers, but whatever rules over the universe does not hear her; the ink remains marred.

She puts away the letters, and weeps, and stays up the entire night so she will not have to face the daunting task of justifying herself to her ageing children. She has lost the two halves of her heart; only a hole had been left behind, and she knows that abyss will only widen with every strand of silver she sees in her children’s hair.

They catch onto her strategy, soon enough.

“Please come back,” Yosef asks her when she falls asleep at dawn, sitting with her with their feet dangling in the garden’s pool, as they had done when he was young and wanted to escape the chaos of the house. “Mama, we’re not mad you didn’t tell us. We just want you back. We’re all in Vesuvia, we want—”

She breaks the dream.

When she tries sleeping in the afternoon, Lizbet is there with her, in the garden she had crafted from her room, Mango chirping on her shoulder.

“Mom,” Lizbet worries, peering around the fronds of her fern. “Mom, where are you? Pepper’s grown now, she can take me and Blaise and we can come get you, please. Please, Dama wouldn’t want you isolating yourself—”

Ziah cannot stop her tears, then, and her grief rends the dream apart. But it is not until her fourth day traveling to the Waste, when she encounters a dream-remnant of Asra, that the grief stems into something decidedly more numb.

“Whoever has summoned you,” she tells the fragment, “is very cruel.”

It smiles at her, cheeks dimpling; its lepidolite eyes are clear, unclouded by cataracts, and its hands are steady and warm when it cups her face and wipes away her tears.

“You are five days dead,” she says. “Let me grieve in peace.” Her voice breaks. “Please.”

“Not if it means you’ll be alone,” it says. The sound of his voice, warm and affectionate and soft, is enough to make her turn away. She presses her hand to her mouth, biting down on her wrist to muffle her keening wail, and squeezes her eyes shut.

She smells jasmine and lavender behind her, and her body shakes, knees nearly giving out. No, she thinks, desperately, and when she squeezes her eyes shut she feels hot tears run down her face, hugging the curve of her jaw.

“Ziah,” she says, gently, and she breaks. She collapses, legs too weak to stand upon, and Nadia catches her, lowering them both to the floor as Asra kneels beside them, arms tight around them both.

She cannot endure it.

“You are cruel,” she gasps out, as Asra and Nadia hold her between them. “Enough! Leave me in peace!”

The dream melts away, and she wakes in tears, unable to control her grief until hours past the sunrise. When she calms, she rubs at her sore eyes and summons water from the dirt, calling one of her children.

It is Korra who answers, and the water is clear enough that Ziah can see the age lines between her brows, at the corners of her eyes, around her mouth. “Mom, thank the gods—” she starts.

“I do not know who was responsible for that dream,” Ziah says, thankful that her voice is steady, “but we did not raise you to be cruel. Leave me in peace. All of you. I want to be alone.”

“Arianna’s pregnant,” Korra blurts, before Ziah cuts off the message. That stays her hand, and she looks away, out over the savanna that is slowly becoming desert with every mile she travels east. “I just... I just wanted you to know. She’s gonna name them after Dama.”

An Asra, to match a Nadia. She remembers the news—Evander’s second daughter, their fourth grandchild, Asra insisting they travel all the way to where he had been stationed in Drakr so they could meet little Nadi.

We’re grandparents, Mizi. She remembers how he’d laughed, in the midst of cleaning his spectacles with his shirt. Can you believe it?

Ziah splashes the water, breaking the connection.

Lina is—delighted is not the right word. Pleasantly surprised. Lina is pleasantly surprised to see her again.

She allows Ziah to take up her old rooms by the oasis she had brought forth from the desert, rooms that have nothing but a makeshift bed crafted out of scarab chitin and phoenix pelts.

Ziah does not know what it is—whether Tiamat’s absence, or the shroud of grief that clings to her shoulders and radiates from her body in waves—but Lina leaves her alone, this time.

Her dreams are peaceful.

She does not know how long she is in the desert. Time slips away. She is empty, and more and more often she fills her dreams with memories of Asra and Nadia and both. She spends her days reading their letters (Nadia’s elegant script, Your presence lights up even the darkest of places, and Asra’s simple scrawl, I’d cross all the seas to get back to you) or sleeping.

Her dead heart beats, but she does not feel anything except grief and emptiness.

Korra contacts her, once. Her hair is more gray than black, and Ziah cannot look at her because of it.

“Evander’s dead,” she says. “There was an accident.”

Ziah says nothing.

“Asra’s turning two in a few months. We’d love it if you could come.”

Ziah says nothing.

“Mom.” Korra’s voice breaks. “Please come home.”

Ziah says nothing. This time, it is Korra who breaks the dream. When Ziah blinks open her sore, sleep-crusted eyes, she finds the black-and-white photograph of them all—Nadia, Asra, their fourteen children. She finds Evander, standing beside Nadia with Nadia’s hand on his shoulder, and stares at his face the entire day.

Slowly, she begins to reshape her dreams, so that the memories include Evander as well. But when she wakes and faces the day, her thoughts grow more and more consumed with the ocean. Even here, in the desert, the sea beckons to her, pulling upon the foreign immortal soul within her own.

She gives herself to her dreams and to her longing for the sea, and pays no mind to the time that slips through her fingers like sand.

She dreams of the desert, of shifting sands and silver dunes. She dreams of walking down an onyx road, one that will lead her back to the waves, where she should have died long ago.

“Wait!” an achingly familiar voice calls. She turns, and there Asra is—dressed in strange clothes, but unmistakably him, not some phantom constructed from the annals of her mind. She can feel his aura, something she has not sensed in years, decades, and it startles her so badly it shakes her out of the dream.

The next night, she has the same dream, and she does not know what to make of it. But it does something strange: it makes her heart beat anew.

Blaise comes to the Waste the day Ziah decides to return to the sea. Pepper carries them straight to the palace, and Lina threatens to kill them both for their presumption, but Pepper lifts her golden-orange wings and roars right in Lina’s face. Ziah explains, and Lina begrudgingly returns to the palace, sighing oh, all right, you two have your fun.

Blaise does not look any older than twenty-five, and Ziah’s breath catches in her throat. She looks at Blaise’s chest, reaching out with her magic, and there—a sliver of Pepper’s soul, young and vibrant, fresh where Tiamat’s is shriveled within her.

“How long?” she asks, quietly.

“Auroth taught her,” Blaise says, resting their hand on Pepper’s massive flank. Pepper lowers her head, her snout taller than Ziah herself, and Ziah rests a hand between her nostrils, remembering the day she’d hatched. Beside her, Blaise says, “I’ve been twenty-five for a hundred and thirty-two years.”

Ziah closes her eyes.

“Mom,” Blaise says, “the world’s a lot different than when you left. But if you want to go back, I’m here to bring you home.”

Ziah thinks of Asra, calling wait!, the desperation in his voice. She closes her eyes. She breathes, and lets her heart feel hope. “Yes,” she says.

She dreams of Asra a third time, and this time, she lets him reach her. He crashes into her, pulls her off of the road that leads to the sea, and they kneel in sand that turns to meadow.

She is weeping, but she does not feel her tears; she touches Asra’s cheek, as he stares at her in wide-eyed bewilderment and relief, and she says, “Thank you, sweet. Thank you for bringing me back. I will find you, I promise.”

Vesuvia’s palatial gardens have been transformed into a public park. She does not know what to make of the new world that awaits her, one that roars at night and day both, one where the city’s lights are so bright she sometimes thinks it is daylight.

But the willow tree remains, as does her name, worn smooth by time.

She sits under the willow tree, reading old letters and staring at old photographs, and it is there he finds her. She looks at him, and though she cannot breathe, she is for the first time in a hundred years aware of her own heartbeat.

There you are, she wants to say. I’ve missed you so much.

“Hi,” he says, and offers her a smile, just as he had in a different lifetime. “It’s a beautiful day today, isn’t it?”

#the arcana #katharya dedicated some HEARTBREAKing nadia fic to me #and so i had to return the favor ofc #i feel like i brought a nuke to a fistfight but #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#ziah #asra x mc #fic #kidfic rp verse

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iamartemisday · 7 years

Text

Jane Foster Week Day Two

A/N: Loosely based on this post.

.02 Associated Quote

Science never solves a problem without creating ten more. -George Bernard Shaw

Bucky would never forget the first time he met Jane Foster.

It was sometime after their climactic battle against Thanos for the fate of the universe. The mad titan was dead. Bucky had a new arm and full control of his mind. Him and Steve were picking up the pieces of their friendship/romance/whatever you called random fucking these days. All in all, things were okay.

They had a place on Long Island and went upstate every few weeks to the main Avengers base. Steve and Tony had worked out their issues and were back to their kind of sort of best friend relationship. Tony hadn't quite forgiven Bucky yet, but he'd stopped trying to shoot him when he walked in the room, so that was progress.

Bucky was at the base eating lunch one day when Steve walked in He had a woman with him, one Bucky had never seen before. "Hey Buck, I'd like you to meet Jane. Jane, this is Bucky."

"Nice to meet you," she said, shaking his hand. She had a nice smile.

"Likewise," Bucky said. He went back to his peanut butter sandwich while Steve and Jane sat beside him at the bar top.

"She was just telling me about the time SHIELD confiscated her equipment," Steve said before turning back to Jane. "Did you really drive all the way out into the desert to get it back?"

"Thor needed a ride, and I needed my stuff back,," said Jane. "I didn't know for sure then that he could do it, but it was that or sit on my ass and mope."

'Can't do that,' Bucky thought. He wasn't invested in their conversation, but they were fun to listen to.

"No, I completely understand. I would've done the same thing," said Steve. "That urban legend about me and the grenade? Not a legend."

Jane laughed. "Reminds me of when I tried shielding Thor with my body in the middle of a fight."

Bucky stopped chewing.

"You tried to shield Thor?"

"Twice."

Bucky's head turned slowly towards her.

"No offense, Jane, but I don't think ten of you working together could do that."

"None taken, but in my defense it was a life or death situation. I try to do whatever I can to help save the day, be it making some funky new device or trying to defend super powered aliens. Probably why I punched Loki that one time."

The sandwich fell out of Bucky's hands.

"You punched Loki… I knew I liked you for a reason. Anyway, how's your bridge coming along?"

"We're getting started on a new prototype. Since that incident with the last one, we overhauled the fire safety regulations. Right now, we're looking at a ninety seven percent chance at successful transport. I figure if we can reach one hundred percent and I get myself as far as Asgard, we'll be in business."

"Wait, you're not using a test subject?"

"Why bother? It's my bridge. If anyone's gets first ride, it's going to be… is he okay?"

Bucky was decidedly not okay. His mouth hung open and his eyes bugged out. The sad remains of his sandwich lay forgotten on the floor, and though Steve called his name, Bucky was not in a place to answer. He could hardly hear Steve at all as he sunk deep into his thoughts.

** James Buchanan Barnes Inner Mind Theatre

"It is time to commence my greatest scientific experiment yet!" Jane shouted as she put on a helmet and strapped herself down on a massive rocket.

A faceless man in a lab coat lit the fuse, then ran for cover. The rocket shot out through a hole in the ceiling, Jane riding it like a horse and cackling with glee.

"FOR SCIENCE!" she screamed, soaring higher and higher in the sky. The rocket reached the sun and exploded on impact. Millions of pieces rained down upon the earth. All that remained of Jane Foster was some hair and a scrap of singed plaid.

** "Buck? Bucky?" Steve snapped his fingers in Bucky's face. "You in there?"

Bucky returned to reality with a bang. Literally. That was the sound his chair made when he threw it at the wall getting up. He lunged at Jane, pulling her so close their noses touched. "You must be protected at all costs."

Jane blinked. Steve blinked. Bucky did not blink.

"Uh…" Jane said. "Okay?"

After that fateful day, the majority of Bucky and Steve's free time was spent in Jane's lab. By the third day, she'd gotten over her befuddlement and accepted them into the fold as unpaid, super strong assistants. They moved heavy equipment, made midnight convenience/liquor store runs, and got a crash course in welding when it came time to solder the frame into place.

At night, or whenever Jane's eyes started to droop, they'd ease her away from her station and carry her to bed. She'd offer token resistance, but always gave in and buried her head into the neck of whoever got to hold her that day. It was a peaceful routine for the three of them. Jane got her work done faster, Bucky ensured she didn't blow herself to kingdom come, and Steve got a few nights a week in bed as long as Jane and Bucky's self imposed tasks were completed in a timely manner.

On one such night, which should have been date night at home watching badly dubbed kung fu movies and eating pizza, Steve was in the kitchen getting their drinks while Bucky put the movie on. He was all wrapped up in his favorite fuzzy blanket, so comfortable he didn't think he'd move for the next week. Then his phone chimed with a new text message.

'Hey there! Having a big breakthrough. Think the bridge might be ready for a test run! -Jane'

"Okay," Steve said, as he walked in with two fruity beverages. "Got those mango strawberry smoothies with whipped cream for my best guy!"

Bucky threw the blanket away. It smacked into Steve, spilling the drinks all over him. "We have to go. Jane needs us."

"But-"

"MOVE!"

They were out the door in seconds, Steve fumbling with his jacket as Bucky half dragged him to the car. He threw him in the passenger seat and tore out of the driveway. Steve managed to right himself and buckle in three blocks away from Jane's lab. He glared at Bucky. "Tonight was supposed to be our night, you know."

"Now it's our night and Jane's. Deal with it."

"If you love her so much, you should marry her."

"Not me, we."

"Wait, what?"

They arrived to find the lab intact and Jane exactly where they left her that morning. She had a Chinese takeout carton in her lap and typed one-handed while she ate. On the screen was the same code she'd been working on. The bridge prototype was untouched and unactivated.

"Hey guys," she said. "What are you doing here? I thought tonight was date night."

"So did I," Steve grumbled.

"I got your text. Did anything happen?" Bucky did a full sweep of the lab, searching for fires, leaking chemicals, or rips in the space time continuum. "Did you turn on the bridge?"

Jane swallowed a bite of lo mein. "I ordered dinner first. Physical engineering is hungry work. I've got more if you want some."

Bucky's stomach chose that moment to whine. He took a seat and rolled another chair at Steve. Jane had overshot how much food she'd need, leaving just enough for the three of them. Bucky gobbled down his fried shrimp while Steve stole an entire plate of dim sum. They ate, chatted, laughed, and joked around. Eventually, Steve relaxed and stopped passive aggressively ribbing Bucky about date night. It wouldn't have been the same without Jane anyway. One of these days, Bucky would tell her that. Unless Steve beat him to the punch.

"So I think I'll be ready for the test run tomorrow," Jane said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's going to be amazing, though success is only ninety five percent certain this time."

Bucky forgot momentarily that he was supposed to be curbing her reckless behavior and got lost in how adorable she was when she was happy. Or nervous. Or happy and nervous at the same time. "That's great, Jane. And I'm sure whatever inanimate you send to Asgard will have a great trip!"

"Smooth Barnes," Steve hissed in his ear. Bucky elbowed him in the gut.

"Yeah, I still haven't convinced the legal team to let me go," Jane groused, crossing her arms. "As if they get to tell me what I do with my bridge."

"Well, they're the ones responsible for damage control if something goes wrong," said Steve.

"Nothing will go wrong if they'd just let me do it my way," Jane said. "Instead, I have to add all these superfluous safety features that aren't even really safe. I'd be at one hundred percent if it wasn't for this so-called virus protection they installed. That thing is buggier than a swamp."

"So delete it."

"I've tried. The encryptions are a mile long," Jane harrumphed. "Stupid bureaucracy. This is why I was independent for so long."

"I thought it was because they were stupid and didn't believe you," said Bucky.

"True," Jane conceded, "but they're eating their words now. And they'll eat them even more if I can get rid of this virus blocker."

She dropped the empty lo mein carton in the garbage. With both hands free, she typed at lightning speed. Bucky had never seen hands move so quickly. He tried to follow them, but his temples throbbed. He took to watching the screen instead. Line after line of letters and numbers in a sequence which made sense only to Jane. Bucky shared a look with Steve, but the punk just shrugged and shook his head.

"Are you sure you shouldn't just leave it?" Bucky asked as Jane deleted everything she'd written in frustration and started again. "Maybe it really would help?"

Alarms went off around the room as the screen took on a life of it's own. It spat out numbers at a rate of a hundred per second, too fast even for Jane.

"Yes," she said, the color draining from her face. "I am extremely sure."

"What's going on?" Steve got out of his chair as the gate prototype began to oscillate.

Jane screamed. "HIT THE DECK!"

The explosion shook the foundation of the building, which was single floor and made from titanium alloy exactly for this reason. They'd all have to send thank you notes to Tony later. In the meantime, Bucky covered Jane with his body, while Steve shielded the both of them with a metal table. The gate opened part of the way and blew an unearthly wind at them, pushing them backwards. Random bits of unused wires and computer modules flew over their heads. Bucky would have bumps and bruises later. Steve already had a cut on his cheek and lord knows how Jane was fairing.

The chaos ceased after ten long seconds. The gate's door mechanism rebooted and went back online, bringing about an end to the storm which in turn shut off the alarm system. The lab returned to relative silence as the trio picked themselves off the ground and assessed the damage.

Jane's bridge was in perfect condition. Everything else was not.

"I guess we won't be doing that demonstration tomorrow," Jane said, picking up the snarled remains of her favorite computer with shaking hands.

Steve put an arm around her. Bucky did the same. Sandwiched between them, she allowed her muscles to relax and her knees to buckle. They held her steady. Bucky kissed the crown of her head and rubbed her back. "Steve, what do you say we have a nice long talk with those legal guys tomorrow?"

"Took the words right out of my mouth," said Steve. "For now, how about you come home with us, Jane? We can watch kung fu movies."

He was so earnest, puppy dog eyes fully armed and loaded. Bucky himself would've fallen for it. Compared to that, Jane never stood a chance. She dried her eyes and left her ruined tech on the battered table. They stepped outside, arm in arm, to find an army of police cars and firetrucks waiting for them.

Two hours of paperwork and interrogation later, during which Bucky scared three different officers into wetting themselves, the three of them finally made it home. They cuddled up on the couch, Jane wrapped securely in the fuzzy blanket between them. Sipping mango strawberry smoothies, they watched Bruce Lee beat up thirty guys at a time and let their troubles roll by.

Bucky had read once that sometimes, science caused more problems than it solved. He kissed Steve and Jane as they were lulled off to the sleep, and knew this was not one of those times.

#Jane Foster #janefosterweek #janefosterweek2017 #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #BuckyxJanexSteve

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