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angstsfordays · 3 years

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Beautiful Pain (4)

Chapter Four- Now or Never

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: Your supposed ally leads you to an unlawful nation where danger lurks at every corner. Bucky starts to see you in a different light.

Warnings: Sexual objectification. Very bad undercover work. Calling Sam daddy. Sexual innuendos.

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: I am very humbled that people have been enjoying the story and liking it so far! This means to me a lot as a novice writer! ☺️

I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, felt like I got more to expand for the Madripoor episode. I love to know what y’all think of it so far! 😘

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!

Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Next: Chapter Five

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As Zemo made arrangements on his end, you did not know what to expect. You, Sam and Bucky were brought to the tarmac of a small private airport, your attention was brought to the private plane that Zemo was leading you towards.

Sam made a comment on Zemo’s wealth and the latter explained that he was practically royalty before the Avengers destroyed his country. Touché.

You took the seat right across from Zemo and you couldn’t help but put your guard up around the man. He could sense the tension all over your face and offered champagne to which you declined. You wanted to make sure you were fully sober around this guy.

As you looked on at the exchange he had with his steward, he almost looked decent for a moment. You wouldn’t have thought of this guy to be a manipulative and scheming man that caused that chain of events many years ago.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell.” Zemo started off after having a sip of his champagne. He then paused in his actions as he looked over all of you and corrected him.

“Oh that’s right, you all do. My apologies.” Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms as you leaned into the comfort of the plush aeroplane seat.

Sam tried to get Zemo to start talking but the baron brushed it off for a moment as he looked at a book in fascination. As Zemo brought up a familiar notebook, he asked who Nakajima was.

Your eyes perked up at the familiar name and you immediately turned to look at Bucky who instantly pounced on Zemo and grabbed him into a chokehold. Bucky warned him not to touch his notebook or he would actually kill Zemo, probably with his bare hands.

As Bucky settled down in his seat once more, you gave him a knowing look but he averted his eyes to avoid eye contact. The conversation then took a more light-hearted turn as Sam tried to describe how Steve noted down his suggestion of the Trouble Man soundtrack in the notebook that now was passed onto Bucky.

Sam asked if Bucky liked it too and the super-soldier replied that he liked 40’s music to which Sam look almost offended that Bucky didn’t share his taste in music. Bucky looked like he didn’t even want to bother but he clarified that he indeed liked it just to get Sam to back off.

Zemo decided to join in the conversation and put his two cents. Sam was surprised at how Zemo managed to eloquently describe the music style. Afterwhich, Sam went on to say how everyone loved Marvin Gaye while Bucky agreed that he did too.

Sam added that Steve adored the singer too. Hearing this, Zemo commented that Bucky must have looked up to Steve very much.

Yes, we all did. You wanted to add that in too.

Zemo, however, then took the liberty of giving his view on Steve. He talked about how dangerous it could be to idolize super soldiers like Steve and start to disregard their flaws, thus allowing him to not be held accountable for the repercussions that stem from his actions. Even if that meant the formation of movements, the fighting of wars, the loss of innocent lives.

Sam gave him a warning to better stop talking but Zemo continued on. When Zemo noticed how you started shaking your head in dissatisfaction, he gave a light chuckle before speaking directly to you.

“Miss Y/N. Contrary to my own personal views on enhanced individuals, I do find you fascinating, The files I read on you only make me more curious. Can I ask some questions?” You could feel the attention being put on you in the room and you grew slightly uncomfortable.

“What do you want?” Hoping to act nonchalant to mask your nervousness, you crossed your legs and leaned back into your seat.

“You have no family history. You grew up in an orphanage, am I right?” Nodding at the facts he laid out, Zemo carried on.

“You couldn’t have possibly been experimented on. You have gotten into any accidents?” You shook your head in response.

“Chemical exposure, radioactive bites, cosmic ray exposures….those are the possibilities that an ordinary person could obtain superhuman abilities according to the theories online.” Unimpressed, you continued to shake your head at him.

“Tell me. I’m curious.” You couldn’t entertain the likes of him but seeing how he was leaning in to wait for your answer, you gave an indifferent expression before speaking.

“It appeared out of nowhere. Someone committed arson in the local convenience shop where I was at the time. I was trapped with the elderly shopkeeper and I thought we were both going to die. A burning beam was falling onto us and I thought that was the end. I suddenly emitted a burst of energy that managed to put own the fire and incinerate the beam into ashes.” As you retold your story, memories of your fear from that time came back.

“The shopkeeper lost consciousness but I saw everything. I wasn’t sure if it was me but I ran away. I couldn’t’ return to the orphanage because I was afraid the police would find me. I lived on the streets for a week before my powers manifested again.” Your eyes fall to your fidgety hands, cracking your knuckles as it gave you some sort of relief.

“A kid was crossing the street without his mum knowing and a car was speeding on the road. I tried to reach out and pull him back in but the car was just inches away from us both. I caused a scene that couldn’t be ignored. S.H.I.E.L.D managed to find me and took me in.” Zemo’s eyes were tracking your every movement and expression in a way that Bucky didn’t like. As if you were something up for display and Bucky put his foot down.

He was getting protective of you and did not want Zemo to harbour any hidden intentions. Who knew what Zemo was thinking of?

Zemo spoke up before Bucky had the chance.

“Fascinating just fascinating. It’s like your powers had been dormant inside you all along. Are you even human?”

“Last time I checked, my blood is still red.” Your sarcastic response earned a laugh from Zemo and he stroked his chin as he continued to observe you quietly. Sensing he had more thoughts in his mind, you returned the questions back to him.

“You hate enhanced individuals so much, would you get rid of me if you had the chance?” Growing a smirk, Zemo wasn’t expecting you to ask him that and he was more than eager to give his reply.

“I am undecided, but you’re different. I can see you are more discreet than the others, just like Bucky over here.” Zemo made his final remark before he moved on to talking about the location that you were headed.

His words sunk in and you kept on thinking about how he hit the nail on the head.

Yes, you had to be more discreet. You could never proudly show off what you had, instead, you had to keep yourself hidden in order to protect yourself.

Recalling your S.H.I.E.L.D days, you remembered how you were told to keep your powers on a low profile by Director Fury himself.

Your lab results came back and it was discovered that you had a special gene in your DNA that could be identified. There weren’t any references or connections to existing research and findings so you were viewed almost as an abnormality.

It was then later discovered that your powers were connected to your life force and if you ever over-exerted yourself, you could possibly die. That almost happened back during the civil war between the Avengers. It was the first time you ever used your powers on a larger scale and you had even passed out at the end of the battle.

You remembered waking up in a hospital bed on the raft.

When you found refuge in Wakanda, you got to learn more about your powers with Shuri’s help. She believed as long as you trained your stamina and built up your strength, you could control your powers without ever worrying about being drained. That’s how you found yourself the privilege to receive special training with the Dora Milajae under King T’Challa’s request.

You definitely owed the Wakandans big time.

Seeing how you were uncharacteristically down, Bucky wanted to check in with you out of concern. However, he chose to restrain himself, thinking that you probably one to be left alone. He wished he could do more for you like you do for him.

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Before you knew it, you landed in Madripoor. An island nation that was lawless and dangerous, yet home to the darkest of black markets and underground businesses. Zemo said that all of you could not go in as yourselves and had to basically go in undercover.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter when Sam changed and came out in a fancy printed suit. He was to act as a real life promiscuous and rich man who really could have been his doppelgänger when you saw a picture of the man.

However, you weren’t one to laugh when Zemo asked you to act as one of Conrad Mack aka Smiling Tiger’s fling for the night. When you first received your outfit, you threw it back in Zemo’s face.

You were not the most comfortable with sexy and revealing clothing personally so you couldn’t imagine yourself wearing it at all. Zemo tried to convince you that Smiling Tiger’s women were all of a certain type so you had to go through with it in order to fit in.

Letting out a groan, you snatched the little champagne dress with an open keyhole back. The front was designed to give a loose look that shyly reveals your cleavage. The dress held onto your shoulders with thin straps and it overall gave the impression of a silk slip dress.

When you put it on, you wiped your clammy hands on the silk material and grimaced at how it barely covered your ass. You were grateful that the shoes you received had thick block heels as you had forgotten how to even walk in high heels anymore.

Swiping on the red lipstick for the final touch, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves as you looked in the mirror. You got this.

Stepping out of the changing room, you were met with the full attention of all three men and you put a finger up to warn them of making any unneeded comments.

“Damn Y/N. I mean this in the nicest way possible but this is an entirely different look for you. In a good way, of course.” Sam tried to compliment you seeing that you weren’t fully into your outfit.

“Thanks, Sam.” You knew his intentions were always pure and good, so you didn’t mind it much. As he and Zemo went off to discuss something, you saw that Bucky was still looking at you intently. He must think you look weird, you thought.

In all the years that Bucky have known you, it was the first time he has seen you looking like this. You always had gone for casual and comfortable looks in your daily life. The only time he has seen something different was when you put on your tailored suits for formal events.

He had to do a double-take when he saw how the little dress number hugged your figure in the right places.

Bucky knew he shouldn’t continue looking but his eyes fleeting quick glances when you were looking elsewhere. He always felt that you were one of the most beautiful people he knew on the inside, the fact that you could look past what he did and accept him for he was. He never felt that he had to pretend to be fine when you’re around because you were there to accept him for better or worst.

Seeing you now stirred up a different feeling inside of him. Why did you suddenly seem so attractive this time? He did not want to be that guy who viewed women differently because of the way they dressed. In fact, he was never the kind to like someone because of the way they look but more of how they make him feel.

However, observing how bashful and shy you look in front of him, Bucky suddenly felt rather nervous himself. He saw you taking a step towards and he swore his breath hitched as his mind was registering this scene in slow-motion.

Your hands came up to put his dog tags inside his black shirt before going for the zipper of his jacket. Your eyes fleetingly met his for a moment before you started saying something.

Bucky wasn’t able to process it as he was entirely focused on how you were casually helping him as you normally did, but his mind can’t help but think of it as an intimate gesture.

You continued to buckle up the belts of Bucky’s harness and couldn’t help but to relish in the act of caring for him. This was probably the only time you could fulfil your feelings of wanting to be close to him without crossing the line.

“All done.” Once you have adjusted the straps on his shoulder to make sure they were comfortable, you glanced to see Bucky looking down at you in a daze.

“Hey Buck, you there?” Calling for his attention, Bucky snapped back to reality as he saw you staring at him with a curious doe-eyed look. Clearing his thought, Bucky scrambled to recall what you had said and just continued looking at you in question.

You went on to ask if the straps were comfortable to which he nodded curtly. You grinned in satisfaction for a short moment before it fell into a tight-lipped smile.

“Bucky, are you really ok to go into character? I know how hard you worked to get away from all of that.” Implying how he had to act like the Winter Soldier for this undercover mission, Bucky took a deep breath before answering you.

“I’ll be fine. It’s just for this mission.” You just silently nodded at his words before signalling that you two should get a move on.

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All of you were heading to Low Town as Zemo named to find his informant, Selby. Zemo reminded everyone to stay in character regardless of the situation, if not the mission would be compromised and your lives could be at risk.

Zemo gave you a personal warning to avoid using your powers if possible. If your powers were revealed publicly, there was a high chance you were at a bigger risk than the rest because people would want to take you for their own.

It was not every day an enhanced individual with superpowers walks into Madripoor and you would definitely become a prize to be coveted.

You were first greeted by the hustle and bustle of the nightlife crowd. The neon signs lit up the incredibly dark streets followed by the loud booming music that could be heard from some of the places that you passed. Your eyes were focused on Zemo’s back as he led all of you to the location, refusing to make eye contact with anyone else.

Entering the crowded bar, you could hear Zemo speaking Russian to Bucky. You weren’t familiar with the language but you could make out one world, Soldat.

Sneaking your arms around Sam who was caught off, you gave me a pointed look that told him that the undercover work starts now. He gave you a brief nod before rolling out his shoulders and you pressed yourself closer to him, putting your acting face on.

All of you stood by the bar where the bartender greeted all of you.

“Hello, gentlemen. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” The bartender nodded to Sam. His eyes moved over to meet yours before greeting you, Miss. You gave your best smile in return.

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.” Zemo told the bartender. You could see the shift in his eyes and saw someone from out of the corner of your eye moving away. Shifting your stance, the bartender didn’t acknowledge Zemo’s words and glanced back to you again.

“New face?” His comment was directed towards Sam but seeing how Sam was hesitating, you realised that he hadn’t had much experience with undercover work at all. He was a military man not a spy or agent after all.

“Hopefully, the last.” You giggled shyly and looked up to Sam with an affectionate gaze before giving the bartender a wink.

The bartender nodded curtly before asking Sam (Smiling Tiger) if he wanted his usual. Sam nodded silently in an efforts to prevent himself from doing anything out of character.

You caught Bucky looking at you as he leaned sideways on the counter. Your silent exchange was a way for you two to check in with each other and a brief smile mirrored on both of your faces before you turn to see the bartender taking out a snake from a big jar.

Trying to control your expression at the disgust coming up your throat, you subtly swallowed heavily at the sight of how the bartender slit the snake open. Sam who had his back turned for a brief moment was shocked to see what was presented on the counter in front of him.

Zemo tried to continue to put on the act and acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Your global knowledge and several visits to Asia made you realised why this was the Smiling Tiger’s favourite. Snakes infused into wine was touted to be an aphrodisiac to help a man increase, ahem, stamina.

Bucky felt almost bad for Sam and looked away briefly. You could see Sam gulping down nervously when the bartender added the finishing touch to the drink and you gently rubbed his arm for emotional support.

“I love these.” Sam managed to say through gritted his teeth and clinked his glass with Zemo. Your own bile almost resurfaced and you quickly turned your head to hide your nervous gulp.

Putting up a thumbs up awkwardly, you wanted to facepalm when the bartender looked back at Sam with a dubious expression.

You knew you needed to do something so everyone’s covers won’t be blown. Putting on a sly smirk, you let a hand move up Sam’s chest slowly and sensually before resting it where his heart was.

“Looks like you and I will be in for a long night.” Adding a slight giggle, you pretended to act shy after you spoke your words. Sam was trying his hardest to not look bewildered at your act while Bucky was trying to suppress a sudden wave of annoyance that washed over him.

He knew that this was an act but he still didn’t like it for some reason. He had to admit that he was not expecting you to get into character so well, seeing that this image you were presenting was the furthest cry from who you actually were.

The bartender looked slightly less suspicious of all of you before he went away. You could feel Sam heaving a sigh of relief beside you and you did the same alongside him.

Another man came up to Zemo, telling him of how he was unwelcomed in the area. Zemo putting up a cool façade, explained he had no business with someone named the power broker. Zemo restated his business here once more before the guy left.

Zemo explained that the power broker runs Madripoor and it was best you all stayed under his radar. Moments passed before another guy came up behind Zemo and Zemo turned to Bucky talking in Russian once more.

The instant the man placed his hands on Zemo, Bucky went into winter soldier mode. Everyone’s attention was directed to the scene happening. The whirling sound of Bucky’s vibranium was heard clearly as he was nearly crushing the man’s hands and went ahead to knock him over.

More and more people started to gather fool’s courage to take on Bucky. You saw how he easily took down everyone with barely any sweat.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo commented to you and Sam, and in all honesty, you wanted to choke him like what Bucky was doing to another guy on the bar’s counter.

Hearing the continuous clicking of guns from everyone in the bar, your senses were now alert at the possibility of having to break character and use your powers.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” Zemo whispered into your ear and grabbed onto your hand before you could even think of doing anything.

Zemo got Bucky to back down and the bartender told you all that Selby was ready for your visit. Sam checked in with Bucky to which he responded with a curt nod.

As you made your way along the back end of the bar, you could see the stacks of cash all over a table and the armed guards that filled up every corner of the room.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t come into my bar and make demands.” Selby turned out to look like what you would imagine her to be. She sat comfortably on her couch with a dominant presence and seemed like she was not someone easy to deal with.

Zemo tried to reassure her that he was making offers not demands to quell her mood. Selby asked how Zemo was able to escape from prison and Zemo replied smugly on how people like them always found a way.

As Zemo tried to shift focus onto the order of business, Selby wasn’t still into it. Making a comment about Sam’s taller than usual height, Sam not knowing what to respond just nodded in silence.

She even purred at him teasingly before her eyes landed on you.

“Who’s this pretty little thing you have here? Where are you from?” Selby’s eyes narrowed in as you sense everyone starting to look flustered by the unexpected question. You were just meant to play a background character but didn’t expect the sudden attention.

Biting your lips into a furtive grin, you snaked your hands around Sam’s biceps. “Daddy picked me up from the club that I was working at. He says I am his one and only now.”

The men all tried to stop their jaws from dropping to the floor at your sweetly coy act. Who were you?

“Hmm…” Selby hummed while she looked you up and down. “You can do better, sweetie,” Selby remarked smugly before giving a subtle gesture to herself.

Lips forming into an ‘o’, you feigned a surprised reaction at the flattery. You tried to send a flirtatious look back so that Selby would be in a better mood.

Your act was rewarded when Selby grinned wider and asked Zemo for his offer. In exchange for information on the super-soldier serum, Zemo was willing to trade Bucky in pretence. He added how he would give Selby the codes word to control Bucky, treating him like an object.

A wave of anger started rushing through you as the scene unfolded and you glanced to see how Selby became more intrigued.

“Hmm, I have plenty of strong men already working for me. What else can he offer?” Zemo was taken aback by Selby’s words, thinking that she would already be interested in Bucky.

As the men were grappling to come up with a good response, you went on your first instinct and spoke up.

“Well he is rather handsome, isn’t he?” Everyone’s focus turned onto you and you took a breath to continue as Selby gave you an expecting look.

“Not as handsome as my daddy here but-” Walking around Sam, you headed towards Bucky who was trying to look unbothered but dying of curiosity on what you were about to do.

“He seems like fun to play with.” You purred as you gazed at Bucky’s profile. You gestured for Bucky to face you and could see how he was still staying in character. Running your fingers down his five o'clock shadow, your eyes glinted as you batted your lashes flirtatiously before looking over your shoulder back at Shelby.

“You can’t help but imagine having a good time with him. Super soldier serum should have some perks, no?” Your hidden innuendo was loud and clear to everyone in the room. If this didn’t appeal to Selby, you didn’t know what will.

Sam was trying his hardest to maintain his expression as he couldn’t believe his ears. Never in a million years would he think the sweet and innocent Y/N he knew actually dared to speak like that.

Bucky did his best to tighten his jaw and continue his stoic facade to hide the shock from what you had just said.

Never did he thought you would take the situation to such a turn. Your improv was unexpected and he couldn’t believe the woman in front of him was actually you.

Your sudden bold and cheeky persona was doing something to him. Your innuendo about him started to make him feel hot in his ears. Bucky had to clench his fist tightly to get himself to hold it together as he felt his heart racing out of nowhere.

He didn’t know what was happening to him but he knew you were having some sort of effect on him.

“Of course, that’s my silly opinion.” Turning to face Selby with a mischievous smile to keep up your character, you noted her looking at you thoughtfully as she rubbed her chin.

“Not just pretty but you’re witty, aren’t you?” Selby noted as she grinned like a Cheshire cat. Satisfied with your input, Selby then revealed what she knew about the super-soldier serums.

Apparently, there was a doctor, Dr William Nagel who has been helping the power broker to create the serums here in Madripoor. When Zemo tried to probe further about Nagel’s location, Selby decided that Zemo was overstepping.

In the very next moment, you could hear a vibration of a phone and saw Sam reaching out to his jacket.

Great, all of your covers might be blown. Selby demands that Sam answered it on speaker. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. To carry on the act, Sam reluctantly proceeded to answer the phone.

A woman’s voice came up and in the next sentences spoken, you realised that she was his sister, Sarah. Oh boy, this wouldn’t end well. You closed your eyes in prayer as you hoped it can go over smoothly.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, you looked to see Bucky glancing down in shared unease. Sam was doing his best to make sure his cover won’t get blown. You thought all was going well but when you heard Sam’s name from Sarah, you knew you were all toast.

Selby immediately called for all of you to be killed and in that moment, all hell broke loose. Selby got shot in a blink of an eye and her guards were up in action. Bucky pushed you behind him protectively as he fought off Selby’s men.

Once all her guards are dealt with, Zemo called for weapons to drop and you took the back exit.

Making a swift escape, all of you tried to play it cool while taking long quick strides. The sound of the first gunshot made you jumped and sprang into a run. You saw Zemo took off in another direction but you didn’t have time for him.

You, Bucky and Sam decided to sprint ahead. “I can’t run in these heels.” Sam cried out and you retorted in annoyance.

“How do you think I feel? Mine’s twice as taller than yours!”

Bucky reached over to grab your hand and interlocked your fingers together. His super-speed was practically lifting you off the ground, dragging you like a rag dog.

"Hey! What the hell man? What about me?" Bucky ignored Sam's whining and focused on not letting your hand go.

Not knowing where you are headed, a sense of dread started pouring on you and you grew anxious by the second. People on motorbikes were starting to drive up behind you three.

You were wondering if it’s time to not give care and actually use your powers for real this time. All of a sudden, the two people on the bikes behind you have been shot by someone from above and you stopped in your tracks to locate that individual, fearing you were next.

Zemo reappeared from the shadows and claimed that you all might have a guardian angel.

“Drop it, Zemo.” The familiar voice brought relief as you matched it to the face that emerged into your sight.

Your smile at the thought of a friendly face faltered when she continued pointing a gun towards all of you. Sharon didn’t seem as pleased as you were. Turns out she had to fall off the grid and found herself in Madripoor after the turn of events many years ago.

"Y/N, is that you?" She took a double-take on you, probably not used to seeing you dress up like this.

"Hey." You awkwardly replied. The moment didn't last as Sharon trained her eyes on the men and continued to be hostile.

Your heart dropped as you hear her telling of how she was unable to be in contact with her family anymore. She had become a fugitive and still is. An immense amount of guilt washed all over you when she retorted about how she wasn’t backed by the Avengers.

You weren’t batch mates with Sharon back in S.H.I.E.L.D academy but you became friends when you crossed paths during work. You could not believe you haven’t reached out to her all this time.

Bucky pleaded with Sharon for her help and Sharon gave a thoughtful look at all of you. When she saw you with your uncomfortable expression, she gave a sighed and stated that she wasn’t done discussing the topic.

Offering refuge in her place at High Town, all of you accept it.

You sat beside her in the front and the two of you exchanged silent looks before she started the engine. What were the odds of seeing her again in Madripoor?

You hoped to be able to get a chance to talk to her later.

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Tag list: @tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves @conflicted-noxsirius

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x oc #bucky x you #tfatws #marvel fanfiction #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes #beautiful pain #angstsfordays #bucky barnes fanfiction

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drwcn · 3 years

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concubine/sleeper agent!wwx and prince!lwj bullshit continues:

[story board 1] - The two empires and the Imperial Lan Family [story board 2] - WWX, Qishan Wen’s sleeper agent [story board 3] - The inner court (harem) of Hanguang Manor, prior to WWX

→ [Story Board 4] - “A-Xian”, the attendant of Jiang Yanli

Wei Wuxian lived with the Jiangs for 2 years. After he came to Gusu as a 16-yro, he charmed/scammed his way into the Jiang manor, won the favour of Jiang Fengmian, the affection of Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng, and waited. For a long time, no further instructions were given to him from Wen Ruohan. Then, one day, he saw Zhao Zhuliu on the streets of the Capital. Zhao Zhuliu was the head of Wen Ruohan’s intelligence bureau and incidentally, was also Wei Wuxian and Xue Yang’s shifu.

— “Shifu, does bixia finally have an assignment for me?” — “He does. Jiang Yanli is set to marry Lan Wangji. You are to find a way to accompany her to Hanguang-fu and get close to him.” — “Close to him as in...?” — “Any means necessary. He has a harem already, so you will not be the only one vying for his attention. Do think you can handle it?” — “Well I don’t know, shifu,” responded WWX coyly. “ Word on the street is that this Hanguang-wang prefers pretty men. His ce-wangfu Jin Ziyan is famous for his handsomeness, and that mianshou Mo Xuanyu he keeps around is a looker too. Do you think I’ve grown pretty enough?” — “You seem very aware of his household, I’m surprised.” — “Bixia sent me here to observe and learn; I’ve not been idle.”

Wei Wuxian knew Jiang Yanli was set to marry Lan Wangji before she even knew herself. This was not a coincidence. Originally, three years ago, when Lan Wangji was first choosing members of his harem, Jiang Yanli had been considered, but at the time Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan were already engaged to be wed. Jin Zixuan had promised Jiang Yanli that as soon as he passed the imperial scholarly exam and secured a position for himself in His Majesty’s court based on his own merit and not on the influence of his father Jin-guogong (Duke Jin), that he and Yanli would marry. It was a marriage that his late mother had arranged with her best friend Yu Ziyuan, and both Yanli and Zixuan were amenable to it. However, when Jin Zixuan finally passed the exam and ranked 6th in the national polling, he chose to take a position far away from the capital and left without a word of affirmation regarding the engagement. The position was an important one given to Jin Zixuan by Emperor Lan Xichen himself and so in some ways, it was understandable that he could not refused. After Jin Zixuan left the capital, Jin Guangshan went to his “old friend” Jiang Fengmian and “apologized” profusely on his son’s behalf, spewing all sorts of words about how a young man ought to make his way in this world and such. However, this left the Jiangs in an awkward position. Jiang Yanli was 21 yrs old, already older than any unwed noble lady should be. The Jiangs were angry with this outcome, but given the politics of it, they could not say much...and that was when Lianfang-jun Meng Yao revisited an idea that had been put aside three years ago. — “Hanguang-wang...desires to marry A-Li?” Jiang Fengmian was somewhat flabbergasted. “But...” — Meng Yao smiled, “Jiang-houye*, three years ago I came on behalf of er-di to broker a marriage between our two families, but you and Yu-furen both refused on account of her engagement with Jin-xiao-gongye. But I must say ling’ai* is a fine young woman, eloquent and mild-mannered and would make a fine wangfei* some day.” — “Wangfei? but -” — “Yes, Hanguang-wang did say he would choose his own princess or prince consort, but as you can see, even with Jin Ziyan as he ce-wangfu, Qin-fu’ren and Luo-fu’ren at his side, our prince has not shown any desire for any of them to be his legal spouse. He is still waiting, searching, and who’s to say Jiang-gu’niang is not equal if not better than the lot of them?”

What the Jiangs didn’t know was that Jin Guangshan was a traitor and had already sold his loyalty to Wen Ruohan, who promised him to make him a fanwang* when Qishan eventually annexed Gusu. JGS was a mole inside Gusu’s government secretly helping to further Wen Ruohan’s agenda. Nevertheless, Wen Ruohan wanted Wei Wuxian to get close to Lan Wangji, because as helpful as Jin Guangshan was, he was never fully trusted by the royal family and did not know their inner workings. Breaking Jiang Yanli’s marriage with Jin Zixuan was just a matter of convenience. Jin Guangshan was not fussed regarding a simple marriage when the reward would be much greater. As per WRH’s instruction, he used his influences in court to maneuver Lan Xichen into giving Jin Zixuan a position far away from the capital, thus removing his son from the dangerous political atmosphere and freeing up Jiang Yanli as a potential concubine for Lan Wangji. Then, Jin Guangshan sat back and allowed Meng Yao to finish the game that he started. Meng Yao was not a willing participant. He loved Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue but Jin Guangshan held the secret to his past and thus a noose around his neck. Everyone in court knew that Lianfang-jun Meng Yao was once a lieutenant in Nie Mingjue’s army and later became his personal secretary. He was known for his wit and silver tongue and the charming dimples on his cheeks whenever he smiled. However, not many knew that Meng Yao was the bastard son of Jin Guangshan and a prostitute. Meng Shi’s hope was that one day her son would be legitimized by his father, but alas her hopes were in vain. A child born to a whore would be condemned to a live in the “jian” caste unless otherwise freed. It was Nie Mingjue who chose to raise Meng Yao above his station and respected him as a person for the first time in his life. When Nie Mingjue and his long-time sweetheart the crown prince Lan Xichen were set to marry, Meng Yao thought his days of freedom would be over. To his surprise, Nie Mingjue opted to bring him back with him from the borderlands where Nie Mingjue’s battalion was stationed and introduce him to court and to Lan Xichen. It seemed almost impossible that Lan Xichen would love him as unapologetically as Nie Mingjue, but somehow he did. Meng Yao became the only concubine person in Lan Xichen’s harem other than Fengjun Nie Mingjue. Life was perfect, so perfect in fact Meng Yao even entertained the idea of coaxing Lan Xichen to take on a lady or two to be his concubine so that the palace could be filled with little ones. Of course he’d be a little jealous...but they would have children...and Lan Xichen loved babies. Then of course, Jin Guangshan found out who he was, and from that point on, Meng Yao was no longer a free man. Every single moment of his life, his father threatened him with exposure. If anyone were to find out just how unseemly his origin had been, how not only was his mother a prostitute, but he himself had been nearly no different (given to the Nies as a gift by a stupid pandering official), his life would be over. At the very least Lan Xichen would be forced to banish him, at the worst, he’d be dead. Oh there would be no public announcement of course, but it would be said that he had taken ill and succumbed to his frail health, and with his death the smear on the Lan imperial family would be cleansed. Meng Yao didn’t want to die, so he did as Jin Guangshan asked, even when the ask became Nie Mingjue’s life. (But NMJ isn’t really dead...Meng Yao was nothing if not a fighter. He could not let the father who’d cursed him to a less than hellish existence take away from him the first man who’d ever shown him love and kindness.) — “Jiang Yanli must marry Lan Wangji.” Jin Guangshan instructed. “And you must ensure that when she does, the boy goes with her.” — “What boy?” — “The ward of Jiang Fengmian: Wei Wuxian.”

So when Meng Yao came to speak with Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan, naturally he brought up the subject of Lan Wangji’s “preference.” “The Qin family did very well in this regard. They were quite clever in allowing Mo Xuanyu to serve Hanguang-wang; the boy is too low-born to be of any threat. Even if Hanguang-wang’s harem of today becomes the imperial harem of tomorrow, Mo Xuanyu would not be more than a mianshou. His success, on the other hand, would ensure that Hanguang-wang’s favour stay with the Qin family. As we can see, their effort was not in vain. Qin Su became with child rather swiftly. Little Kaisong was born more no later than three months after Jingyi.” Meng Yao explained the delicate nature of the situation to the Jiangs. “If Jiang-guniang is to marry Hanguang-wang, forgive me for my boldness, but she would be wise to bring a male attendant of her own. Wangji is kind and would honour her as his concubine, but the man cannot control his inclinations, as none of us could.” Yu Ziyuan exchanged a look with Jiang Fengmian. Yanli was older now; waiting for Jin Zixuan to keep his promise had delayed her and possibly ruined her prospects. If this marriage to Lan Wangji were to succeed... he is an honourable man who treated all his concubines equally and with respect. If he grew to like Yanli enough to make her his legal spouse as Meng Yao seemed to think is possible...then one day she would be Empress. — “Hanguang-wang’s preference is men. Would he not prefer to have a wangfu instead of a wangfei?” Jiang Fengmian was still hesitant. — “Indeed I’m sure he would, but politics being what it is...” Meng Yao sighed. “I’m sure Wangji understands that having the mother of his heir be his wangfei and his future empress is the best course of action to ensure the stability of the nation. We certainly have no shortage of examples to learn from in history: a shuchu prince with competing shuchu brothers walks a perilous road.” — “Lianfang-jun is wise.” Yu Ziyuan nudged her husband. “Which young man do you suggest we include in the bridal party?” — “That I have not decided, which is why I’ve come to see you today. Jiang-fu is a large manor, surely there must be some servants worthy to catch the eye of our Hanguang-wang. Yu-fu’ren, why don’t you assemble them, and we can have a pick?” — “Lianfang-jun, that is a delightful idea.”

Wei Wuxian was not surprised at all when all the young men of Jiang-fu under 21 and above 16 were assembled in a courtyard. He scanned the crowd; there were about 20-ish of them. One by one, they were beckoned forward, and when it was his turn, he walked with his head bowed towards the man sitting under the eave on a luxurious wicker chair, holding a fan. The fan was very expensive, drawn by an artist in the previous dynasty. An antique. This must be Zewu-di’s* only concubine, Meng Yao. — “Greetings to Lianfang-jun.” — “Raise your head, boy, let me take a good look at you.” — Wei Wuxian obeyed. Meng Yao looked him over once, appraising and evaluating, before making a pleased little noise. “Hm. Your name?” — “Wei Wuxian.” — “Wei...Wuxian?” Meng Yao gave a pretty laugh. “A rather boastful name for so young a person. My, but you are a lovely thing. Tell me, what is your age?” — “Eighteen.” — “Eighteen, excellent. It’s unfortunate that your name isn’t something a little more humble. What does your family call you?” — “My family calls me A-Xian, dianxia.” — “Well A-Xian, if I were to tell you that you’ve been chosen to accompany Jiang-gu’niang to serve Hanguang-wang, what say you?” — WWX thought *I’d say Lan Wangji better sleep with one eye open*, but said with a gracious and deferring bow of his head, “That would be my honour.”

[next]

Note:

houye - marquess ling’ai - a formal way to address someone else’s daughter wangfei - princess consort fanwang - a type of high-ranking prince with their own region/land to govern and possibly even their own army to command under imperial rule. Zewu-di - emperor zewu.

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #wei wuxian #concubine!wwx #assassin!wwx #prince!lwji #cql ficlet #corie fics #without envy

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cozy-the-overlord · 3 years

Text

For the Lobster of Loki

Summary: Exposure to terrigen mist during a mission-gone-wrong results in you developing some newfound aquatic abilities. Unfortunately, this opens the door for your Avengers teammates to make use of the bane of your existence: fish puns.

Word Count: 2,850

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader (first person)

A/N: I can’t believe I actually wrote this.

For those of you wondering what the hell this is: a few weeks ago, I had autocorrect change the word "love" to "lobster" while writing a fic. I found this hilarious and made a joke about it on Tumblr and it kind of turned into a meme on my blog. A couple of my friends told me I needed to turn this into a story and so now I present to you the stupidest thing I have ever spent precious time creating. Also, I usually don't like writing in first person at all, but my go-to third person limited just did not feel right with this nonsense, so I decided to experiment with a different style

Thanks for reading! :)

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

I was going to murder Tony Stark. I was going to murder all of them, but I was going to murder him first because he was the one who started this nonsense and now it had been going on for two weeks and I was one fucking smirk away from scalping myself.

It all started when I woke up with gills. Waking up with gills is a strange experience. Don’t get me wrong—I realize all things considered, I had it pretty good. I’ve heard about some really horrific transformations since I experienced my own— people who came out of the midst having lost their eyes or their limbs or their minds. There have been people who came out of the mist looking, sounding, and feeling like completely different creatures than when they went in. And there have been people who don’t come out at all.

No, I know damn well I was lucky to come out of the experience with nothing more than a pair of gills stuck in my neck. Still, it was an odd feeling—there was a heightened awareness every time I breathed in, pinprick chills trickling across the newfound ridges as I exhaled. It didn’t feel right, but it didn’t feel wrong either—it was a stiff feeling, a bit like putting on a new pair of shoes for the first time, if that makes sense. I didn’t know what to make of it.

When I woke up, there was about a hundred doctors hovering around me, each with some new sterile terminology to throw my way about my condition, none of which made anything close to sense. I was losing my mind until Bruce showed up. He was able to put it simply: during the mission, I had been exposed to terrigen mist. Instead of killing me, it triggered a transformation in my DNA. I was inhuman.

My inhuman gift, it seemed was the magical blessing from the Black Lagoon. I had gills now—that was the most immediate realization—but there was also the fleshy webbing between my fingers and a weird film over my eyes that I didn’t notice until I tried to rub them with the heel of my palm. All of these wondrously fishy attributes added up to one glorious result: I could swim like a fish.

That was the first thing they tested. As soon as the doctors said I was good to go, SHIELD dumped me in a pool and told me to have fun. And I did. I had never been a fantastic swimmer or anything—the extent of my swimming knowledge came from the lessons my mother had forced me to take as a kindergartener because she was afraid I’d fall into the pond at the park down the street from our house and just die, which … fair. I still hated those classes. But now, now—oh, it was a completely different experience! I cut through that water like a knife, like Michael Phelps who? I was a bullet, shooting back and forth across the pool and just hanging water for as long as I liked.

Because I could breathe underwater now. That’s what gills are for, I guess, although it doesn’t really feel like breathing. Like, I’m not inhaling water while I swim. I’m just … I don’t know, my lungs are still filling with air, my chest is still going up and down, but it’s not through my nose. I don’t know how to explain it, it’s weird. But it’s really fucking awesome.

The team was very supportive of everything. I had only been living at the Tower for a little while, so I had still felt like something of an outsider—I didn’t have powers, and I certainly didn’t have the years long rapport that they had with each other. But they were really cool! Tony designed me a sleek new suit that was able to move well in water while still offering protection, and everyone had the time of their life trying to think up a pithy new code name for my newfound superhero status (we still haven’t quite decided, but I’m leaning towards Torpedo, because isn’t that the coolest thing you’ve ever heard?). Everything was great.

Well, almost everything. There was one thing that was kind of bothering me. Loki hadn’t talked to me since I got hit with the mist. That might sound like a weird thing to get hung up on—oh no, the psychotic extraterrestrial terrorist is ignoring me!— but Loki’s not really like that. He doesn’t really talk about the whole New York thing much, but he’s said enough to make it clear that it’s not something he did of his own volition. If you saw it you’d understand what I meant, the way he tenses up whenever someone brings up the Chitauri and his eyes go all glassy like he’s not really there behind them. You can just tell that whatever had been waiting for him on the other side of that portal, it wasn’t good.

We never talked about New York, but we talked about other things. I’m not really sure how that happened. He does this thing where he acts all annoyed with everyone, like he’s just so over everything, and it irritates everyone so much that they all avoid him like the plague, which of course is what he wants. I guess I just didn’t avoid him when I arrived—I was too busy avoiding all the other superheroes who made me nervous to bother trying with him—and he grew to tolerate my presence.

We started talking about stuff one day, random shit like the purpose of nutritional facts on the side of poptart boxes and the boiling point of water on Earth vs on Asgard because apparently that’s different. And then we’d do things like make fun of the way Steve talks because he’s just so easy to make fun of, and Steve would overhear and tell us to knock it off and that would just make the whole thing funnier and Loki would mimic his voice and say something stupid like “I can feel the righteousness surging!” and Steve would just shake his head and walk away while we laughed like idiots. So yeah. We were friends. Or at least, I thought of him as a friend.

But I was starting to think that maybe he didn’t see me in the same way. We had been partners on the mission where I got hit with the terrigen mist, but he didn’t even come to visit me while I was still in the hospital. And literally everyone came to visit me. Friggin’ Director Fury came to visit me, although I’m pretty sure that was more because he wanted to see what my transformation had entailed and not because he had any particular interest in my wellbeing, but still. And then when I got out, he never said a word to me and everyone else wanted to talk to me so I didn’t say anything to him, but I was worried about him just the same. He was avoiding me too—he wouldn’t ever look at me when I was looking at him, and a lot of times he’d get up and leave the room if I came in. And I didn’t know what was going on.

I probably should’ve asked, but I don’t know … I was afraid, I guess. Like, what if he was really mad at me for something, and just me trying to talk with him would make him upset? So I just didn’t say anything—went through my day pretending everything was normal and ignoring the ache in my chest constantly reminding me that it had been weeks since I got my powers and Loki still hadn’t asked me if I was okay.

But I kind of forgot about all that when Tony started this bullshit. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t start it sooner, because it was the type of low hanging fruit that had his name written all over it, but once he started it there was no going back.

He started it one day when we were in the kitchen. I had been making a sandwich (tuna fish, because I’m a cannibal) and Tony was leaning over the counter watching me, and we were just talking about my general fishiness.

“I’m jealous, really,” he was saying. “It’s definitely something that would come in handy. You need to get something underwater, you just dive down—no tanks, no masks, no suits. Very sophisticated.” His eyes lit up, which is never a good thing. “Sofishticated!”

I groaned. “Stop it.”

But Tony was cackling. “Sofishticated! That’s rather gilliant, if I do say so myself.”

“Tony …”

“It doesn’t get any betta than this!”

I waved the bread knife in his face. “I will throw this at you.”

“Alright, alright.” Even as he held his hands up in surrender, he was giggling like a child. “I’ll stop.”

He did not stop.

The next morning, it was fish puns. Everywhere you turned, it was fish puns.

“Can you get that report back to me soon, or do you need more time to mullet over?”

“Just let minnow when you’re ready to try on the new suit.”

“Don’t trout your abilities, we all know you’re fintastic.”

It was only breakfast and I was inches away from crushing my face against the china cabinet.

Natasha raised her eyebrows. “What the hell have I walked into?”

Tony grinned. “It’s fish puns!” he said. “Because, you know—” he gestured vaguely in my general direction. “It’s her brand.”

I moaned, face in my hands. “Just kill me now.”

Clint perked up. “Don’t you mean krill me now?”

Laughing, Tony gave him a high five over my head as I writhed in pain. “That’s the spirit.”

I don’t know how he did it, but in the matter of hours Tony had the whole damn tower on the pun train. Natasha was joking about how she was having a whale of a time with this new game. Clint was telling me to clam down and enjoy the fun. Steve asked me if I could get kraken on my o-fish-al business. Even Bruce—Bruce, who always made a point of staying out of Tony’s nonsense—even he was coming up to me with shit like “Cod you come help me with somefin in the lab?”

I glared at him. “Why would you ask me that?”

He hesitated for a moment. “Well …” Bruce inhaled. “Salmon had to.”

I stormed off as Tony roared with laughter from behind the corner.

It was inescapable. Wherever I went there was someone armed with some new fishy atrocity. You’d be surprised at how many fucking fish-related words exist in the English language. JARVIS was so overloaded with the amount of Internet searches for “fish puns” that he started bookmarking lists for easy access. It was an absolute nightmare.

“Don’t play koi, sweetheart,” Tony teased one night while we were waiting for Clint to choose a movie. “We know you lobster it.”

“Lobster?” I scoffed. “That doesn’t even make sense!”

“You just don’t appreciate my ingenui-sea.”

“OH MY—”

“Ignore them, my lady.” Thor smiled gallantly “They are only jesting. You should just relaks.” He grinned, stepping back as he waited for a reaction. We all just blinked at him. He frowned. “You understand, yes? Re-laks? Laks? That’s a fish!”

“Lak is not native to Midgard,” Loki interjected without looking up from the book he was reading. I jumped. He had been so quiet I had forgotten he was in here too. “Their oceans are too warm.”

Thor was surprised. “Truly? But I thought we’ve tasted lak since we’ve been here!”

Loki rolled his eyes, still without looking up. “That’s salmon. It tastes similar, but it’s much smaller.” He turned the page, muttering something that I didn’t quite catch. I was suddenly struck by the fact that it was the closest we had come to talking since before the mist, and that ache came back, gnawing at the edges of my heart. He didn’t look at me. I didn’t say anything.

About a week later, it was my birthday. I don’t really like birthdays in general, but I had really been bracing myself for this one all week because there was no way in hell these morons weren’t going to something infuriatingly stupid to mark the occasion. I guess I didn’t do enough bracing, because when I walked into my bathroom that morning to find a big fat lobster scuttling around in my sink I nearly had a fucking heart attack.

Across the mirror, someone had scrawled a message in red lipstick.

Sending you birthday fishes and lots of lobster!

And that was the moment I decided I was going to murder Tony Stark.

I stormed out into the hallway with no weapon, no plan of action, nothing except the pajamas on my back and the lobster in my hand. Additionally, this was the moment I decided that I hated lobsters more than any other creature on this earth. This thing looked like something from outer space, with its antenna and its bulging eyes and its spindly spider legs—that what it was, an overgrown spider in a slimy red shell. It was disgusting.

I was on my way to Tony’s floor, so engrossed with this half-baked notion of busting down his door and throwing this extraterrestrial arachnid on his face while he snored in bed, that I didn’t even see the Asgardian prince until I walked right into him.

Luckily, Loki grabbed me before I stumbled backwards, because I recoiled so quickly I probably would’ve gone flying. He raised his eyebrows as he took in the sight.

“I assume there’s a reason for the crustacean?” he asked.

There was something ever so slightly condescending about his tone, and I bristled. “They left this thing in my room! I swear, I’ve had it up to here with this fish bullshit—”

He hushed me, pulling the lobster from my grasp. With a wave of his hand, it was gone.

I inhaled. “You didn’t kill it, did you?”

“Oh no. I merely moved it to a more preferable location.” He frowned at the moisture left on his palm, conjuring a handkerchief to wipe it off with. “You know,” he said slowly. “The more visibly upset you allow yourself to become over this, the more encouraged they’ll feel to continue.”

“I know, I know. I just—” I sighed. “It’s so annoying. It’s been going nonstop, for two damn weeks! Puns are the absolute lowest form of humor, it’s just obnoxious.”

Loki only nodded as he turned to make his way down the hall. “I’ll take your word for it.”

And just like that, it was back to ignoring me. I watched his retreating form, the ache in my chest quickly bursting in to flames.

“Why are you avoiding me?” I snapped.

He froze, slowly turning around. “Pardon?”

“Why are you avoiding me?” I repeated. “You won’t talk to me anymore, you barely even look at me— did I do something wrong?” Maybe the fish jokes really had fried my brain, because I was dangerously close to tears. “I don’t get it Loki, I thought we were cool and now you just hate me!”

“I don’t hate you!” he said. “I just—”

“Just what? What is going on with you?”

“You could’ve died!” Loki yelled. I had never heard him speak that loudly before, and guess I was shocked into silence. “With the mist, on the mission. It was only pure chance that you didn’t.”

“I—I don’t understand.”

“I was supposed to cover you. I should’ve realized sooner that they were using terrigen crystals. Instead I miscalculated and you nearly died.” He let out a shaky breath. “I thought you were dead. When I found you, enveloped in that shell …” His voice trailed off and I realized with a start that his eyes were glistening with tears.

“Loki …” My gills tingled on my neck as I reached out for him. Is that what this was all about? Guilt? “Loki, you can’t blame yourself for that. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. And besides, I’m fine now. It all worked out in the end.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand. You didn’t see yourself. You were gone, I was certain you were gone—”

I griped his hand. “I’m here now though. I’m here and I’m fine. Stop beating yourself up about it. I want to be friends again. I—” For a moment, the words caught in my throat. “I missed you.”

He gulped. “Truly?”

“Of course! Besides, I need your help getting back at these idiots.”

He smirked. “Oh, I’ve already started on that.”

A high-pitched scream broke out across the floor. “How did the fucking lobster get in my shower?” Tony bellowed from his bedroom.

We exploded into laughter.

“Oh,” I wheezed. “That was fucking perfect!”

Loki grinned, squeezing my hand. “Only the best for you, my lobster.”

#loki (marvel)#loki fanfic #loki x reader #crack fic #for the lobster of loki #cozy writes

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link4eva · 3 years

Text

Kiro’s Chanting Praise Date Translation [CN]

Hi, everyone! Just a couple of notes before you begin reading. I don’t actually know Chinese so this translation was done through the power of Google Translate and with help from @keliosyfan. Thank you! 💛

The translation below contains spoilers for a date not yet released in the ENG server so please don’t look below the cut if you don’t want to be spoiled.

You can read the call that comes before the date here!~

Hope you enjoy!~

*Spoilers for future content below!*

In the depths of the Golden Palace, there is a silver-haired prince.

His palace gate is always shut and no one can enter

His figure is covered by shadows and he has never seen the sun.

His voice was cursed by a demon and could not be heard.

Guard: Find him!!

Guard: Where did he go?

Disharmonious sounds suddenly sounded in the lively market. The sound of footsteps hurriedly came from afar, arousing the curiosity of the vendors.

The guards were fierce-looking. They were wielding scimitars and looked as though they were searching for someone. One of the guards walked up to me and looked me up and down a few times.

Guard: Hey, woman.

Guard: Did you see a kid in a cloak passing by?

MC: No. I’ve been here the whole time and haven’t seen any strange people.

MC: Has the kid in question committed anything?

Guard: Humph, just a little mouse that sneaked into our master’s house!

Guard: I’ll ask you again, are you sure you haven’t seen this person? If you dare to lie….

He raised the sharp scimitar as he spoke. I couldn’t help but shrink back as I tried to keep my voice calm.

MC: I would never dare to lie to the great Lord Jinsha. I really haven’t seen this person.

MC: You can prove it by asking the person next to you!

The guard looked around. As expected, the other vendors waved to him and said that they hadn’t seen him. He snorted angrily.

Guard: Since you haven’t seen him, don’t get in the way!

The guard pushed me against the wall and ran to the other end of the alley.

After watching the family members disappear, I quietly patted the big wooden basket behind me.

MC: Alright, it’s ok to come out.

??: ….!

The wooden basket shook slightly and the straw on top was pushed aside by a slender hand, revealing messy blond hair under the cloak and a pair of bright blue eyes.

The blond kid poked out half of his head and looked side to side before smiling up at me.

MC: Don’t worry, no one ratted you out.

The vendors all around showed friendly smiles to the kid. He pulled off his mask in relief.

The kid jumped out of the wooden basket swiftly and gave me a brilliant smile.

??: But you are the one I should be most grateful for!

??: My name is Kiro. What about you?

MC: My name is MC.

Kiro: MC….

He said my name again and nodded.

Kiro: Well, I’ll remember your name and I will repay you in the future!

He said this as he put on his cloak. As he was about to leave, I grabbed his wrist.

MC: I don’t want it in the future. Can you do me a favour now? I need it quickly!

I hurriedly spoke, not letting Kiro have the chance to refuse me.

MC: Didn’t you get chased by a guard because you snaked into the mansion of Lord Jinsha?

MC: Then you can probably tell me, did you see a travelling artist like me in it?

Kiro looked at me with a slightly surprised expression.

Kiro: Travelling artist? Is there something wrong with them?

MC: They….

MC: It’s too hard to talk here. Come with me.

I looked around vigilantly, put on my veil, and beckoned to Kiro.

Passing through the alleys, the hustle and bustle gradually grew farther and farther.

I led Kiro through the city and finally stopped in front of a travelling artist’s caravan.

MC: This is my home.

MC: I am a dancer in a travelling theatre troupe. Some time ago, I passed by here from Wangcheng to make a living in the market.

MC: Half a month ago, our theatre troupe was summoned by Lord Jinsha for a dinner performance.

MC: The people at the market all advised us not to go, saying that many others were recruited by him before. They never showed up again.

MC: But we didn’t dare defy him. I was the only one that didn’t attend as I suddenly fell ill that day but the others went.

MC: After that day…. my companions disappeared.

Kiro: They didn’t come back?

MC: Well, the caravan and luggage are still here so it would’ve been impossible for them to leave.

MC: Kiro, do you think they will be sold as slaves as the rumours say?....

Kiro: Don’t be too scared. Actually, time moved really quickly just now and I only searched part of the mansion when I snuck in.

Kiro: Maybe your companions are staying in other rooms and I just didn’t get to see them?

MC: Even so….

Kiro’s comfort only slightly soothed my anxiety. However, an even greater worry was still surging in my heart. I sighed.

MC: Alas….if there is any way to save them, it would be great.

Kiro: I have a solution, wanna try?

Kiro: Actually, I was um…. a spy and took a job. So, I had to sneak into the mansion of Lord Jinsha to investigate.

Kiro: I was discovered by a guard at that moment which caused me to fail my mission. I'm thinking of how to get in again.

Kiro: At this time, let’s cooperate and pretend to be a pair of travelling artists.

Kiro: I will be the singer and you will be the dancer! To tell you the truth, I can sing very well!

Kiro looked excited, but, how could a spy be a good singer? I shook my head.

MC: It’s not that easy. I heard that Lord Jinsha’s ears are very particular and that it’s hard for ordinary singers to be liked by him….

My hesitation was interrupted by Kiro’s singing.

The moment the first note was sung by him, my eyes widened.

Kiro sang the simplest but cheerful melody. His voice was very low, his words very casual.

But such easy-going singing has surpassed all the singers I have ever heard.

It seems that he isn’t standing in front of a messy caravan but rather a lively banquet. And in that banquet, he is the focus.

The last lyrics left his mouth and Kiro winked at me and my stunned face.

Kiro: Would you like to cooperate with me now, little dancer?

[Second Part]

My cooperation with Kiro is going extremely smoothly.

In just ten days, our travelling act had gained fame in the city.

Most of this fame was because of Kiro.

For some reason, no matter how simple the ballads that are sung by him seem to have colours, pictures, and smells.

Whenever he plunged into the world of music, he would inexplicably reveal a lonely and noble breath.

People wanted to get close but they didn’t dare to do so.

MC: Sometimes I think you really don’t look like a spy….

Kiro: Wait, what are you talking about?

MC: Nothing! I mean you sing so nicely. I wouldn’t be tired of hearing it even if I listened for a hundred years!

Kiro: A hundred years? I think you could listen to it for a lifetime.

His carefree words made my heart beat faster and my ears became a little hot for some reason. I quickly changed the subject.

MC: We’ve been practicing for a while today. Would you like to take a break and go to the street?

Kiro: Okay. Now that you mention it, I feel a little hungry.

We were going to the market to search for food. When we were passing by the long rows of houses, I suddenly heard sorrowful weeping from one of the houses.

Kiro: ….

Kiro stopped. Looking through the cracks in the dilapidated door curtain, there’s an old woman crying and holding her son.

But her son was unaware of his mother’s grief and his eyes stared up at the ceiling, saliva spilling from the corner of his mouth.

Seeing this scene, I shook my head unbearably.

MC: Another person infected by a strange disease….

MC: Last time we passed by the Royal City, we heard that there were lost souls there.

MC: Who knows when the cure will be found….

Kiro: This is not a natural disease. It’s man-made.

MC: Man-made? How do you know?

Kiro: Uh….

His eyes wandered for a while before he decided to finally answer me.

Kiro: Because….I am a subordinate of the “Silver Prince”. I am investigating this matter under his order.

MC: The silver-haired prince?!

MC: It’s the “spokesperson of the demon” whose voice is cursed in the legend and likes to manipulate others…. *Changed some wording here*

I trailed off the rest of the sentence because I saw Kiro’s face becoming a little pale.

MC: I’m sorry! I forgot that you are his subordinate and shouldn’t say that to him.

Kiro: It’s okay. Do people talk about him like this?

MC: Not really….

MC: Most of the people who say that are big landlords and wealthy merchants like Lord Jinsha and people who followed suit.

Kiro: What about you? What do you think of the silver-haired prince?

MC: Me? I have no idea.

MC: After all, the noble existence of the prince is beyond my knowledge. Why do you ask?

Kiro: Oh….

MC: ….

Did I say something wrong again? Why do I feel that Kiro’s expression seems to be even more disappointed?

Should I just flatter his master?

Thinking of this, I quickly coughed and changed my tune.

MC: But, ah, I think the prince must not be as scary as the legend makes him out to be….

MC: He did send you to investigate the bad guys after all. He must be a very wise prince!

MC: As for the curse, the “spokesperson of the demon”, that must’ve been a rumour spread by others!

MC: I respect him with my heart!

Kiro looked at me and blinked, the corners of his mouth bent upwards uncontrollably.

Kiro: Pff….Hahahaha!

MC: Why are you laughing?

Kiro: Nothing, nothing. When I go back, I will convey your compliments to the prince!

Kiro: When this matter is over, he will definitely reward you greatly. You can make any request.

MC: Really? Then I’ll have to think hard about what reward I want from the prince.

Seeing him happy made me happy. I turned the conversation back to the topic at hand. *Changed some wording*

MC: So, the last time you snuck into Lord Jinsha’s mansion, was it also to investigate this matter?

Kiro nodded.

Kiro: I found an incense with a strange composition in Wangcheng. This incense has a strong aroma and is highly addictive.

Kiro: Long-term exposure will cause people to lose their souls.

Kiro: I tracked it down all the way here and finally found the main supplier of the spice; the so-called “Master of Golden Sand”.

Kiro: But he’s good at covering his tracks. If there is no concrete evidence that he sold it, then it’s difficult to convict him.

Kiro looked back at the small house as he said this, his face contemplative.

MC: Kiro, did you think of something?

Kiro: It’s just a theory that I have that has a few loose ends. It can only be verified after successfully sneaking in.

Kiro and I had a simple meal at the market. On the way back, we suddenly found a circle of people in front of the caravan.

It was Lord Jinsha’s guards.

Kiro and I quickly glanced at each other and then walked towards the caravan together.

Kiro: Is there anything wrong, sir?

Guard: You are the famous artist couple travelling the city recently?

The guard raised his jaw arrogantly.

Guard: Follow us.

(Cut to the mansion)

Dancer: MC, your solo dance is really good! Your footwork is especially light, just like stepping on a cloud!

MC: Haha, thanks for your compliment.

I absent-mindedly exchanged greetings with other travelling artists. However, the big rock in my heart never lightened up.

The evening before yesterday, the guards took us to the mansion of Lord Jinsha. They told us that he would be holding a banquet in two days and we would be the entertainers who will perform for the banquet.

Everything is going according to plan but Kiro and I both felt a little uneasy.

It felt as if we were prey on a cobweb and some kind of behemoth spider was hanging above us, its saliva dripping greedily.

And just two hours ago, Kiro was called away by Lord Jinsha’s guests, saying that he would be performing for their private banquet.

MC: It’s already afternoon, why hasn’t he come back?

Lord Jinsha’s guests must be some domineering bastards. What if they embarrass Kiro?

I was really uneasy. I finally gritted my teeth and slid out while the people by the entrance weren’t paying attention.

The Jinsha mansion is amazingly large with its luxurious gold ornaments and white jade luxuriant flowers. I hid under the shadow of the flowers, looking for the way to the guest house.

Fweet!

There was a sharp whistle from above which made me look upward.

I saw a hawk passing by a low altitude, drawing a sharp arc, and finally flying towards one of the small courtyards.

Is there anyone there?

I silently made my way to where the hawk landed.

As soon as I approached the courtyard, I heard two male voices talking in the pavilion.

??: Jinsha, the old fox, doesn’t answer our calls at all. He just pretends to be stupid whenever he mentions incense.

??: I guess that’s it.

One of the voices is low and strange. And the other….

It’s Kiro.

I carefully plucked the flowering branches and saw the familiar figure not far away.

Kiro had his back to me while leaning leisurely on the soft pillow, playing with a string of jewels in his hands.

On the other side of the pavilion stood a wealthy, middle-aged man who looked at him respectfully.

The hawk was perched on his shoulder, making a gentle cooing sound in his throat.

In the afternoon, the bright light of the scorching sun made his hair gleam and outlined the muscles on his thin waist.

The kid’s expression is arrogant and cold, like a little singer “coerced” over to perform.

If it weren’t for him still wearing that coarse cloth, I would almost think he was the deity who mastered the sun.

The light is dazzling; it’s too bright to look at.

Kiro: He has already discovered that he’s been exposed in Wangcheng’s business network and certainly won’t dare to make a public appearance.

Kiro: Tonight’s banquet, no matter what method you use, you must hold him back. If necessary, you’re allowed to make a little mess.

Wealthy Man: Yes.

Listening to the conversation between the two, there was a buzzing in my head.

Kiro actually planned this banquet? Lord Jinsha’s guests are Kiro’s people?

Isn’t he just a spy? How could he make that wealthy middle-aged man act so respectfully to him?

Before I had time to think more, Kiro seemed to have noticed something and quickly turned his head!

Kiro: Who’s there?!

[Third Part]

Those blue eyes sharply locked onto the flower bush where I was hiding. Knowing that I could no longer hide, I had to laugh out loud.

MC: It’s me.

Kiro: MC? Why are you here?

MC: I….You hadn’t come back after a while….I was worried….

Kiro was startled but the expression of the wealthy man beside him changed.

Wealthy Man: How dare you eavesdrop!-

Kiro: It’s okay, she’s with me.

Kiro interrupted him.

He shook his arm and the hawk flew away from his elbow.

Kiro stood up from the cushion. When he was about to say something, his eyes passed behind me and his pupils shrank.

I didn’t know why he looked like this. When I looked back, I was shocked.

A large number of guards were coming toward us aggressively!

Wouldn’t we be exposed?!

Kiro: Follow me!

Kiro made a decision and stretched out his hand towards me.

I didn’t dare to hesitate. I quickly ran to the other side of the pavilion with him.

Even though Kiro had figured out the layout of the mansion, the sounds of footsteps blocked our escape routes.

Seeing that there was a guard who could find us at just another turn, we couldn’t hide and had to rush into a room next to us.

Unexpectedly, the room was actually a small vault belonging to Lord Jinsha. There was a lot of gold and silver piled up but almost no place to hide.

If you were to take a torch inside, you would easily be able to see our shadows inside!

Kiro: Here, there’s a treasure chest!

Without hesitation, he pushed me into the treasure chest and jumped in after me.

The small treasure chest held the two of us in such a confined space that we had no other choice but to stay close together.

Kiro held the heavy top of the treasure chest with one hand, the slightly rapid breath escaping from his lips fanned onto the tip of my nose. It felt as though it was burning.

The swaying firelight gradually approached and stopped outside the room.

Guard: Where did they go?

Guard: You must kill him immediately after finding him!

The word “kill” made me tremble. Kiro sensed my fear and lightly pressed his large hand on my shoulder.

Kiro: It’s okay.

Just outside the door were the guards walking with the jewels under him. This was a life-or-death situation.

His embrace is so warm; it makes it feel easy to rely on him.

Guard: Over there!-

The yell outside of the door distracted the guard.

The chaotic footsteps gradually disappeared and the two of us let out a sigh of relief. We couldn’t help but look at each other.

With just a glance, my heart skipped a beat and my face flushed uncontrollably.

So close….

It was close enough that I could see the thin layer of sweat on Kiro’s forehead, the worry in his blue eyes, and the suspicious blush creeping up onto the tips of his ears.

MC: I….

Kiro: I….

Kiro and I spoke in unison and closed our mouths unanimously.

Kiro turned his gaze to the side and whispered.

Kiro: They’re gone. Let’s get out of here first.

MC: Ah, okay.

We gently pull ourselves out of the treasure chest and tidy up each other’s messy clothes.

After the crisis, what came to my mind again was self-blame.

On the eve of the banquet, the mansion was in absolute mayhem. Kiro’s plan for next week would definitely be greatly affected.

MC: Sorry, it’s all my fault….

Kiro: You don’t have to blame yourself. They aren’t looking for you.

MC: Huh?

Kiro: I just listened to what that yell was about. “Incense Person”.

MC: Incense person? You mean….

The lost soul incense secretly sold by Lord Jinsha and the travelling artists who were missing….

All sorts of clues flashed through my mind. I blurted out amidst my thoughts.

MC: That’s why he has to recruit so many travelling artists!

MC: Because travelling artists have no designated homes, no one cares if they disappear as they think they just moved on to the next city.

MC: Have my companions also….

Ominous sensations rose from my heart, my hands and feet turned cold.

At this moment, my fingers suddenly stiffened. Kiro shook my hand firmly.

Kiro: Don’t think too much about it.

Kiro: Let’s change our thinking. Since some people who tried the spice were able to escape its effects, it means that they must have been hiding somewhere from Lord Jinsha.

Kiro: We just need to find them and rescue them.

The warmth from his palm calmed my anxiety.

I grinned reluctantly at him and nodded.

Kiro: The banquet is going to start in a bit and the guards should be going to the front area. Let’s take the opportunity to go back.

MC: Okay.

I followed him for two steps out the door before I suddenly felt that something was wrong.

I lowered my head and looked at the floor tiles under my bare feet.

Although these tiles are exactly the same, the sensitivity of my dancer’s feet made me discover an anomaly.

MC: Kiro, the feel of this tile seems to be different from the others.

Kiro: How is it different?

MC: It’s almost like I’m stepping on a cloud….

Kiro’s eyebrows adjusted slightly. He walked to the floor tiles, knelt down, and fumbled with it for a while. He then knocked on the tile.

Kiro: There’s nothing under this tile.

MC: It’s empty?

MC: Could it be that he hid the “Incense Person” underground?

Kiro: It’s very possible. Let’s go down and take a look.

MC: But the banquet is about to begin. What if the guards find out that we are here investigating?

Kiro: But if we find evidence of Lord Jinsha doing terrible things on the down-low, then we won’t have to attend the party.

MC: What you said makes sense!

MC: And he doesn’t deserve to hear your beautiful singing!

Kiro raised his eyebrows when he heard what I said, his eyes bright.

Kiro: Yes. This time, his crime must be completely exposed!

[Fourth Part]

The tile opened downwards, revealing a ruined black passage; it stared at us like an abyss.

Kiro walked in front, holding on to me with one hand and the wall with the other, carefully exploring onward.

After stepping onto the last step around the corner, a light suddenly appeared in front of him.

Kiro: Follow me.

Walking out of the passage, what is presented before us is the underground treasure room of Lord Jinsha!

Boxes of gold and silver, gorgeous jewelry, expensive cloth….

Treasures even rarer than the ones above us are collected in this dark secret room.

It exuded a sparkling light under the flaming glow of the torches.

Kiro probed around and followed the flames. Suddenly, his eyes lit up.

Kiro: There is a secret door here!

We rushed to the secret stone door. Upon pushing the door open a crack, a scent of moly and a weird spice came flooding out from it.

Everyone was wearing the costumes they used for their performance but their eyes were glazed over; like a group of dolls at the mercy of others.

Like the lost souls I saw in the slums.

MC: You were right! Everyone is here!

In the depths of the crowds, I suddenly saw my companion!

She seemed to still have some form of consciousness. After hearing what I said, she turned slightly in my direction, showing me a desperate smile.

MC: Ah, come on, Kiro! We have to rescue them!

Kiro: I know. Go and call out for help-

Lord Jinsha: Who do you want to call out for, little mouse?

A voice rang out from behind us; with black malice like a serpent’s message.

Kiro and I turned around suddenly. Lord Jinsha led a large number of guards into the secret room.

He sneered and looked at us; as if he were looking at two dying bugs.

I saw his fat and ugly face. I felt my anger instantly rush to the top of my head.

MC: Why are you doing this to them?!

Lord Jinsha: Why?

Lord Jinsha: As I see it, these travelling artists are the dregs of society and have no value at all.

Lord Jinsha: They should be honoured to try the incense for me.

MC: You-!

Kiro: How could these travelling artists be worthless?

Kiro: They have travelled to many different places, danced and sang, and spread the joy of life to many others.

Kiro: They are truly priceless “golden sands” and treasures in this country.

Kiro: The only one with no value here is you.

Kiro held back some anger in that retort.

Lord Jinsha’s squinted eyes immediately turned to Kiro.

Lord Jinsha: Eh, are you the little mouse that sneaked in some time ago?

Kiro: ….

Lord Jinsha: Mouse, do you think that I don’t know who you are? You are as crazy and ridiculous as your master.

Lord Jinsha: A prince, who’s been locked in a palace all his life, wants to bring me down? You wish!

He waved his hand and the guards behind him lunged at us!

A cold light flashed in an instant, Kiro’s eyes were dazzling. He took me in his arms and spit out two words.

Kiro: Weapons down! *Changed some wording here*

When he finished speaking, the guards in front of him suddenly trembled as if someone had pitched their wrists. Their fingers released the hilts of the scimitars they were holding.

When the scimitars fell to the ground, Kiro kicked a few people out of the way and led me to the door.

Lord Jinsha opened his mouth in disbelief.

Lord Jinsha: Who are you?! Impossible! Don’t you dare try to escape!

The man stepped back suddenly and pulled down a mechanism on the wall!

In an instant, a hole in the wall appeared, and a row of arrows shot straight at us!

MC: Watch out!

My instinct was to push Kiro out of the way. In the next instant, the sharp pain of an arrow in my back hit me.

I gritted my teeth and called to Kiro with the last bit of breath in me.

MC: Kiro, get out quickly! Tell everyone this! Tell the silver-haired prince!

Kiro: The prince already knew.

My eyes widened. Before I realized what he meant, I fell to the ground.

Darkness and warmth surrounded me together.

??: Wake up, MC….Wake up….

A faint voice rang in my ear, urging me to open my eyes.

MC: Huh?....

I slowly opened up my eyes. There was a bright moon above my head.

MC: I’m here….

I looked around and found that I was still in the courtyard of Lord Jinsha, surrounded by countless royal guards escorting the other guards in an orderly manner.

The wound on my back seemed to have been cleaned and bandaged. It didn’t hurt so much now.

MC: What’s going on here?

Companion: Don’t you know?! The silver-haired prince is here!

Companion: He wiped out all the bad guys and rescued us all!

MC: What about Kiro?

Companion: Who is Kiro?

There was no need for her to answer; I have already seen him.

The golden-haired Kiro stood in the crowd surrounded by guards and attendants, and those who called him a prince.

Kiro seemed to sense my gaze. He turned his head and looked at me. He subconsciously took a couple of steps towards me before suddenly stopping again.

Kiro: I….

MC: You lied to me.

MC: Did you not trust me? We are partners yet you actually want to keep your true identity hidden….

Kiro: I don’t distrust you.

MC: What’s that?

Kiro: Ever since I was born, people have said that my voice is cursed by the demon and cannot be listened to.

Kiro: Although the royal family explained that it wasn’t a curse, everyone was still afraid of me.

Kiro: So, I can only pretend to be a shameless “silver-haired prince”.

He stared at me quietly, his every word sincere.

Kiro: You’re the only one who likes to talk to me and hear me sing.

Kiro: So I want to talk to you all the time and sing to you as Kiro.

He paused and said it again.

Kiro: Sorry, MC.

Maybe there was some kind of magic in his voice but, just listening like this, my heart swelled and thumped wildly because of his words.

But how can I forgive this “liar” so easily?!

MC: I remember that you promised me that the prince will reward me greatly after the matter is over, right?

Kiro: I remember.

MC: I’ll think of a reward now and the punishment for you lying to me, which I’ll only tell you, also.

I stretched my hand out in front of him.

MC: Your Royal Highness, please come and honour it!

Kiro’s expression stiffened as if waiting for some kind of cruel prank, and walked towards me with a guilty conscience.

The moment he leaned over, I hooked my arms around his neck.

MC: The punishment is that His Royal Highness must do whatever I say.

MC: Just say….

My lips pressed against his cheek.

MC: “I want to talk to MC for a hundred years and sing songs for her for a hundred years.”

Wind and sand rolled over the hills and the travelling artist’s caravan set off again.

They sang travelling ballads, letting the story of the silver-haired prince spread across the mainland.

Legend has it that on a bright and sunny day, the prince’s always-closed palace doors suddenly opened up and welcomed everyone.

There is no demon nor a curse; only laughter and good wine.

The beautiful and timeless singing of the prince will always be heard in the palace, making the people happy.

And wherever the singing sounds, there will be a girl to accompany him.

[End]

You can read the call that comes after this date here!~

#mr love queen's choice #mr love #mlqc spoilers #date translation #mlqc kiro #mr love kiro #mlqc #mr love dream date #zhou qiluo #I loved that ending!

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prurientpuddlejumper · 3 years

Text

Hopelessness of Wanting

Part 2 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader

remember that request on @raulesparzaconfessions asking for Chilton being evil & angst??? and I said I would never do that to my poor Frederick darling? WELL I DID.

Warnings: Darkfic! NSFW. Noncon (nonconsensual blowjob), doctor-patient sexual abuse, past child sexual abuse, angst, self-loathing Chilton. Part 2 will contain suicidal thinking. This is honestly so melodramatic. I apologize to everyone on my tag list.

1k words

If anyone had been outside women’s wing cell 4B, they would have heard a wet choking sound. If they were among the less jaded of the staff, they might have investigated, but that sort of altruism was quickly extinguished here.

The occupant of this particular cell was named Julianne Barker. From three to fourteen years of age, she was sexually assaulted by first her father, then her brother, and then by dozens of men who paid fifty dollars for the privilege. At fourteen, Julianne picked up her father’s shotgun and shot him, her brother, and two other men in the house point-blank as they slept.

That was how she came to live at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

A blue light flashed rhythmically from inside the cell. The choking noises, slurping and gurgled, seemed to almost follow the rhythm of the lights.

Julianne was a docile patient. Without access to firearms she was harmless, and for the last ten years claimed to have no memory of the violent act at all. Her entire memory and very sense of self was a scrambled mess.

That was why Dr. Frederick Chilton began treating her with hypnotic therapy, to pull those buried memories out of her. It was meant to help her recovery. That was his intent, at the outset.

Wet noises were now accompanied by rustling fabric, audible if one were to stand just outside the door. Shaking breaths grew steadily louder. The brief screech of chair legs on the floor as a hand gripped it for support. A low moan rose above it all, a guttural cry that faltered and trembled in time with the steady, wet sucking. Choking. Slurping.

It was an accident—that was important for you to understand!

Dr. Chilton’s voice cracked as he lost control, his hips driving forward—an unconscious mistake—to be met with gagging, sputtering, as his broken scream echoed off the cell’s bare walls. And then the only noise was panting. The screech of the chair again as he slumped back down upon it and wiped his brow. Finally, he cleared his throat and tucked himself back into his pants. Sat up straight.

In a smooth, authoritative voice, he said, “Waking now. You’re waking in a quiet room. Safe. Calm.”

It was an accident—the first time it happened. Julianne did not only relive her memories when put under hypnosis, but fell into a full regressive dissociative state. Chilton had not been expecting the willowy young woman to suddenly get on her knees and begin unbuckling his pants.

And yet, when he realized that he was alone… that he had sole access to the security tapes and the guards would look the other way… he did not stop her. Neither did he do anything to force her! Never wove his fingers through her yellow hair or bucked into her mouth. Everything she did was her own volition.

That was how he justified it to himself.

Acting out traumatic memories could be therapeutic in many circumstances. It allowed her to take control of her past. It was exposure therapy. At best, he was helping. At worst, she never remembered or knew what was real. Always enjoyed their “sessions.”

That was how he justified it to himself.

He knew it was sick. But what did it matter? He had given up ever finding a real relationship. Hannibal Lecter turned out to be a serial killer. Will Graham was running around Italy chasing him. Neither man ever returned his admiration. Chilton had given up entirely on love, himself, and the dull pretense of morality.

He would never get to fuck the mouth he truly wanted—never see the lips he pretended were parted around his cock anywhere but his imagination.

You would never desire the old, scarred doctor—the autocratic, pompous Dr. Chilton, twice-maimed and hated by his own staff.

Might as well take it where he could.

***

As he opened the door to the cell, his heart leaped into his throat and he barely caught a yelp before it burst in its humiliating high pitch from his mouth.

“Oh! Dr. Chilton! S-sorry, I didn’t know you were in a session!” you stammered.

The perfect lips he had been picturing now parted in surprise. Your eyes shone like the sun. He forgot to breathe. Then the shame of what he’d done came crashing back, and the way you, in your perfection, avoided looking at his face—his scar—pierced him.

“You forgot to check schedules? Again?” he chided, voice cold as the dead thing in his chest.

“No, sir! I mean—”

“It’s fine, Dr. Chilton. You’re the one who’s supposed to be in his office right now, according to your own schedule.” Nurse Clerval strode into the hallway behind you, white sneakers silent on the stone floor.

Your face lit up for your rescuer—that bright, innocent smile that was almost always present (the exception, of course, being when he was around). Clerval had a soft spot for protecting you. All of his staff seemed to. Who could blame them? The newest nurse, like a lost puppy, who hadn’t yet lost your shine as everyone in this dismal place eventually did. It only drove home his own loneliness, and the hopelessness of wanting you.

“How careless of me,” Chilton said before rolling his eyes directly at you. “Fortunate you have friends to speak for you.” He got a twisted pleasure from watching your smile fall again.

It was the best he could do, he thought as he limped away, the tension on his abdominal scar acting up. If he couldn’t have your light for himself, he could at least stomp some of it out so it wasn’t taunting him all the time.

He knew that was no justification, but what did it matter?

He was filth. The only reason he survived Miriam Lass’s bullet was to suffer more on this Earth—he knew that was the truth, because he didn’t deserve to be spared. It wasn’t a miracle. It was justice.

He simply hadn’t suffered enough yet.

You were everything he was not, thrown in his face to torment him. Always so kind, and full of life—a sunflower standing tall above a garden of thorny roses. Loved by all. And he coveted you for himself. Needed you like rain. But beautiful creatures always turned their faces toward the light. You would never cast an eye down to him—the thorniest vine whose petals had all been stripped away, never to bloom again. He was lost in a place of shadows you would never see.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tags: @beccabarba / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @dreamlover31 / @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes / @barbasimp / @storiesofsvu / @welcometothemadxxhouse

Just ask if you wanna be added (or taken off after being exposed to whatever this was XD)

#frederick chilton #Frederick Chilton x reader #this will be a short series (was going to be a oneshot but I wrote this much & was like... post.)#dark fic #I don't think Freddy would actually do this??#but I also don't... not... think that he might #my writing

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fandom-blackhole · 3 years

Text

Mando May 2021 Week 2 + Day 12

AN: Next prompts are done! I had fun writing this bittersweet ficlet, and I hope you all enjoy reading it! Again this wasn't entirely edited and all LIKES and REBLOGS are really appreciated and help with exposure! Love you all!

Prompts:

Ret’uryce mhi- “Maybe we’ll meet again.”

Mandalorian goodbye, their fate not fixed in fact.

Yaim- Home

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x GN!Reader

Words: almost 1.6k

Summary: You’ve been hearing blaster fire for what feels like all afternoon when things go eerily quiet, and then you here a thud outside your door followed by a heavy knock.

Warnings?: gunfire/fighting mentioned, angst, soft Paz

The day had started as any other. You'd woken up, crawled out of bed and into the refresher for a quick shower, and then headed down to the small bakery you owned and lived above. The day wasn't anything special, no holiday or big event planned, it was just supposed to be an average day.

After heading downstairs to the small bakery that you owned, you grabbed a stale pastry that didn't sell the day before and ate it quickly as you turned all the lights in the store and kitchen and fired up the ovens as you took stock of what you had and needed more of soon. Then you set about measuring and mixing, and once the pie crusts were cut and filled, and the bread doughs were set aside to rise, you went about prepping the small confectionery molds and worked on measuring and melting down sugars and chocolates.

By the time the store opened you counters were filled and there was more baking in the large fire ovens. Admittedly, you had gone overboard with the baking this morning, but it was only because today was the day that your favorite customer would be coming in, a large tower mandalorian in blue armor that you had taken to calling Blue Bird after he had not given you his name and you had noticed the jetpack strapped to his wide back. The mandalorian had also found the nickname funny, chuckling when you had first called him that, saying, "That is a first, no one has given me that name before."

At the time you had smiled, and basked in the fact he had liked the nickname, especially considering it had fueled you're attraction to the man who was softer than he appeared to be. Blue Bird always came in once a month and bought the old baked goods that had not sold and were still editable, as well as completely clearing out your candies with a soft, "The children always like your candies the best."

You always snuck in fresher goodies, knowing that stale bread was nothing to live off of, and the first time you did this had resulted in Blue Bird to try and pay you extra the next time he came in. In the end it only started a game between the two of you and you eventually found yourself giving only fresh breads, pastries, and sweets that you had made that day, or the day prior, saving the older staler things for yourself and to hand out to those unlucky few you came across sitting and shivering in dark alley ways or on corners with cups and hopeless looks in their eyes. You and the mandalorian grew closer over time, seemingly like a force was drawing you together, and while neither of you had made the move to cross into that uncertain area of relationship territory, the both of you knew clearly that the other was fond of them.

As time went on as well Blue Bird explained some of the mandalorian culture to you, though only very basic things. He told you why he could not show you his face or give you his name freely, and you had accepted that fact with a smile, knowing that even without those two things your heart would always long for him. He made sure you were aware of the importance of his armor, and the wars that had been fought with the precious metal. The large man had even gone as far as taking you out and teaching you how to use blaster, all the while telling you how important weapons were to his religion and culture, then at the end of the night gifting you the weapon he had taught you to use, and the gesture was met by a soft look from you and you knowing exactly the commitment and feelings behind the deeply meaningful gesture. There was absolutely nothing you could do to stop your heart from yearning and falling for the man after he showed you the soft, kind side to his hardened warrior facade.

So each month, on the same day you waited with baited breath, watching the door to your store every second waiting for his hulking figure to walk through the frame. And that was exactly what you were doing today, even as you shared kind smiles and words with your other regular customers, you still distractedly watch the door. You knew he never came until it was close to closing time because he liked not being surrounded by people and he liked the privacy of the late hour. Did that stop your impatience, or excitement to see him again, not in the least.

The day absolutely dragged on, to the point that you had only had two customers by the time midday had come and gone and you were starting to wonder if you were going to be counting losses for the day. That's when you heard the muffled blaster fire and your stomach started turning. Blaster fire wasn't exactly uncommon here on Nevarro, but to this extent it was. You were too scared to venture out and look to see what was happening yourself, but it sounded as if every being in town with a blaster had turned up and started shooting. The loud shots echoed off the walls of the buildings, and you thanked every deity that it sounded like the fire fight was slowly traveling away from your small bakery and not towards it.

It felt like the fight dragged on for days, and the shouts and blasters refused to stop as you curled up behind the counter with Blue Bird's blaster clutched in your hands bringing you some comfort. But, after hours of shaking in fear and waiting, the loud noises slowly came to a stop and everything seemed eerily quiet. You still refused to move, not trusting whatever was happening to be over yet, and you took deep breaths to try and calm yourself down. Only after a few minutes of silence you jumped out of your skin as you heard a loud thud right outside your doorway and then a heavy knocking thud. Slowly you peaked your head above the counter to see the top of a familiar blue helmet through the small window that framed the top of you door. You will admit readily that never before had you run so fast to the door and opened it, let alone eagerly pulled in a dirty, post fight warrior before locking the door, but in that second you did just that.

Once he was inside, you finally let your fears engulf you and let tears fall freely down your face. Through blurry vision you saw Blue Bird reach out to you and cup your face tenderly wiping away the tears.

You weren't sure when you closed your eyes, but they shot open when you felt the slightly cooled touch of rounded metal on your forehead and found yourself looking eye to eye with Blue Bird's visor, as he slowly stroked your cheek, and you finally registered the soothing words he was speaking to you. Once the tears had stopped, the mandalorian's low soft and steady voice spoke, "I am leaving, mesh'la. The imperials have found our small covert, and we are also being hunted by the parsec's guild, so we must all leave and scatter ourselves…"

"But- Leaving? You...you'll visit still right?"

"Mesh'la, I don't think I will be able too, at least not for a long while."

You felt you heart cracking at the mandalorian's small admission and you clutched onto the hand that was still on your cheek as you frantically darted your eyes along his visor and breathed out, "Then...then I'll come with you...Just..just give me a second to grab a small bag."

Immediately after saying that you tried to turn out of his arms and rush upstairs but you found yourself mandalorian's arms wrapped around you waist holding you in place and his helmet pressing slightly firmer into you forehead.

"I cannot take you with me, cyare. I will not put you in more danger by you just traveling with me."

"Bu-"

"Please...please don't make this harder than it already is…."

You were crying again by this point, with chest rattling sobs, trying to choke out pleas to convince the mandalorian holding you, but only managing soft wailing noises. Then the scuffle of footsteps sounded outside and you heard him sigh before whispering, "Mesh'la, my darling starlight, you will always be my yaim, my home, the holder of my heart, and I will try everything to come back to you, but I must go now to keep you safe."

You couldn't find it in yourself to do anything but listen as the man you loved said goodbye for what could be the last time, and you felt like your chest was caving in on itself.

"Blue Bird…"

"P-paz, my name is Paz Vizsla, mesh'la."

Feeling another sob make its way up your throat you forced it down so you could brokenly say his name as he squeezed you close on last time before pulling away. You watched unable to move as he took steps towards the doorway to your shop, and after he unlocked the door he turned to you and said in a language you didn't recognize, "Ret’uryce mhi," then you watched himnstep out of your shop, and disappear upwards into the sky, leaving you to sob alone on the floor of your shop.

(Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate it sooo much, and if you would please LIKE and REBLOG it helps me out a bunch. Love you guys!!)

Taglist: @ollovaemisc @ace-kit-kat-witch @goblinsimp @kikiinden @shellyc9 @cappchen

#mandomay2021 #week 2 prompt #day 12 prompt #paz vizsla x reader #paz x reader #paz vizsla x gn!reader #paz x gn!reader

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saphie3243 · 3 years

Text

First Solstice

For my Secret Snowflake @tomtenadia

Nesta spends her first Solstice sober in Illyria, unable to bring herself to brave the inner circle celebration for a second year in a row.

Word Count: 5500+

Read on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297182

There was something soothing about a room being so crowded it became hard to breathe. Better still when the music was so loud you can’t hear yourself think. Best when bodies are grinding, booze is flowing, and something to smoke is being passed around. Everyone was here for the same reason, everyone wanted a distraction. Amren had made several comments that she couldn’t believe Nesta got males to go home with her when she smelled like sweat and a distillery. She apparently didn’t understand that everyone smelled the same at places like this.

The band was better than usual. The music was… actually good. Maybe that’s why the bar was extra packed today. Or maybe it was because Solstice was tomorrow and no one wanted to think about all the ways they’ve disappointed their families this year.

Disappointing. The male she dragged into the bathroom was just that. He wasn’t even worth the time she wasted not getting another bottle of wine. She didn’t even let him finish before booting him out and stumbling back to her favorite stool. The bartender knows her by now and has mulled wine waiting.

It’s warm and more mulled than wine. She nodded to him. They know how to take care of her here, she certainly spends enough. Leo is decent enough to warn her off of the less than savory types that might be interested in more than even she was willing to give. She sighs back into the glass. Why she felt the need to judge herself when tomorrow she was going to get 5 times over from Feyre and insipid little family was why she needed another glass.

She turned around in her stool, facing back out, watching the crowd move in a formless mass. This band had changed over. The new one wasn’t nearly as good. Several months haunting bars and clubs to all hours in the morning had provided Nesta a proper sampling of Velaris’ bands, and, in her mind, gave her a liberty to criticize as she saw fit. This crater-faced crooner was pitchy and couldn’t move a room if he winnowed them. That earlier one had a woman out front. She was unusual for a Fae. She was beautiful, yes, but she wasn’t the wispy waif most fae women were. She was tall and built, covered in a layer of extra fat that filled out wonderful curves and jiggled when she danced. But that wasn’t what made her remarkable. Her voice took your heart by the ears and pulled you into the emotion she wanted you to feel.

“Weird compliment, but I’ll take it.”

“Lor-Cass said you weren’t going home this year,” Emerie placed the breeches she was folding into a pile of identical wares.

“I didn’t go home last year, either,” Nesta swished the black liquid in her cup as she reviewed the ledgers. Last Solstice only served to remind Nesta how much of a stranger she was to her own family, to Feyre’s new one. She would never be able to call that debacle “going home.” This year, however, she could avoid Velaris. Being banned from the city meant Feyre no longer had the ability to force her into attending farcical family meals, no matter how pissy she was about it.

She closed the books with a sigh and placed them back into a drawer. “Numbers look good.”

Emerie moved her pile of pants over to their shelf. “Thanks for looking over them, I haven’t had anyone to check my math since dad.” Nesta nodded and pulled out the books and notepads Emerie kept hidden with her accounting ledgers.

She leafed through to the furthest marked page. “You didn’t get much further last night,” she commented.

“Ah, no time, had to process a big shipment.”

“It’s fine,” Nesta muttered. 5 words underlined. Not the most, not the least. She reviewed the best-guess at the words definition in Emerie’s notebook. Most were correct. She added pronunciation guides next to some. “Macabre means bloody, gruesome.”

“Why is there an R in it?”

“Because the gods are cruel.” She heard Emerie’s answering laugh. “You’re doing well though. We can probably move on to actually writing.” She didn’t really think it would be that hard for Emerie to learn to read and write. She ran this business - she was clearly whip-smart, just uneducated. It could easily be remedied.

“In the meantime, can you answer the orders?”

This little arrangement worked out nicely. Nesta lended her books and made her literate, meanwhile she would help out with store correspondence and would review the books. Reviewing the books was less about checking Emerie’s math - that she had a natural understanding for - and more about making sure each transaction had sufficient notes.

She took another sip from her night-black liquid. The best part of Illyria, in her mind, was this coffee thing. It didn’t grow locally, needing a warmer climate for the source plant to thrive, but it had become a staple in the tribes as a way to keep troops moving with minimal sleep. Hot and bitter, it really shouldn’t have been as pleasant to drink as it was, but she found herself unable to stop.

“When does Lo- Cass head down south?”

“He should be meeting everyone Solstice morning and be back the day after.”

“What are you going to do?”

Stare at the liquor bottles he filled with water to tease me. Drink my weight in coffee and stand outside Devlon’s house at 2 am sending waves of power over the door to fuck with him until some asshole walks by and works up the balls to ask me back to their place - or die of exposure. Whatever’s first.

“Not sure, why?”

“Would you… I don’t know… want to spend tomorrow with… me?” Emerie had approached the table, tapping her fingers with each phrase. Nesta looked her up and down. If it was anyone else, she would have thought Cassian put her up to it. But she was also alone for the holidays, and Nesta knew that was probably a much bigger deal for the Illyrian than it was for her. She had mentioned once that she didn’t have many people since her father died. Adding in that Emerie didn’t do anything she didn’t want to do... If she was asking, it was because she wanted to spend this day with Nesta.

She smiled at her friend, “Come over whenever.”

___

Dinner was hot and ready when she came in. Cassian always made sure that their meals were piping. His own way of combating the awful wet cold of Illyria. She had to wonder if part of it also had to do with keeping the fires low in the house.

Nesta kicked off her boots by the door and carried them to the fireplace. She set them down next to Cassian’s - the secret to warm feet, he’d said. Their coat rack was also by the fireplace for similar reasons. She gently felt the socks left hanging there- warm, thank the Wall. She pulled off her damp knits and left them in a pile on the floor while pulled on the fresh clothes. They went up to hang immediately after.

“Do you need to take every peg? Emerie’s store is only 5 minutes away,” Cassian called from across the house. He was standing in the kitchen with two bowls of stew.

“Five minutes flying, 25 walking,” she turned to him. “Through a foot and a half of snow.”

She pointed to the bottom of her dress and the crust of ice that had formed there. He grimaced.

“I would have picked you up if you asked.”

“Unnecessary.” She pulled the dress over her head and left it to hang on the coat rack. After months of living together, they had long overcome the initial discomfort with mild nudity. Not that she was anywhere near naked. She still had the chemise that ended at her knees, her wool sleeves, her knitted belly warmer, and a double layer of wool hose. She was more covered than either Amren or Morrigan on any given day. Finally in only dry clothes, she marched over the kitchen and took the bowl from Cassian.

Four months of living with Cassian in Illyria was… surprisingly easy. The mountains were peaceful, simple. The way of life here is more similar to the human society she grew up with than the magical speed of Velaris. Emerie was a pleasant discovery. She still wanted a drink, desperately, but the biting cold had a similar numbing effect if you stood out in it long enough. The worst part was being dragged out of bed at dawn for “training”. Though her training was less about learning to fight herself and more about standing around the training rink terrifying males while Cass tried to teach little girls to throw a punch.

Coincidently she hadn’t gotten laid in 4 months either.

“As much as I love seeing you in your underwear, you do have very nice, very warm leathers.”

“Bite me,” she said as she shoveled food in her mouth. She had made it this long avoiding putting those damn things on. She wasn’t going to cave now. No matter how much imagining the fur lining made her whimper.

He smiled down at her, making a point of flashing his teeth. “Gladly.” Whatever mischief was running through his thoughts cleaned itself up as he changed subjects. He was the other surprise. The animosity between them was turned down to a polite simmer. Oh they still bickered, and they flirted. They never said it, and God willing never would, but any edges of disgust in their banter had long been smoothed by fondness. “Az will be picking me up at 7 tomorrow. If you change your mind about coming with me, be ready to go then.”

“I won’t,” she answered, choosing not to tell him that she would be spending the day with Emerie.

Surprisingly, he didn’t push.

“Oh good, you’re up. I’m making breakfast, if you want.”

Nesta woke up in a bed that was far too clean to be her own. Her head ached, her throat was dry, and she was naked. She sat up and took in her surroundings. This room was not hers. She had less furniture and more piles of shit everywhere. She was trying to figure out how she got there when the door opened and a woman came wandering in.

Nesta recognized her as soon as she spoke and finally recalled the night prior. She was the singer for that band. They chatted each other up at the bar for hours, getting progressively drunker. By the time the bar closed they stumbled home - going to hers because it was closer. They jumped each other as soon as the door closed. It was a new experience for Nesta, being with a woman. And it was good. The singer sounded as lovely when she came as she did when she belted.

Staying for breakfast would be nice. Something real in her stomach to soak up the alcohol was very needed. And if she played it right, there was a chance for as lovely a morning as there was a night.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Nesta waited until her partner had left the room before she pulled on her dress and snuck out the window.

Lovely wasn’t what she deserved.

___

No training didn’t mean that Nesta didn’t wake up at first light. It just meant she didn’t need to get dressed. Part of the initial torture of first arrival was learning that Cass put her in an east facing room with larg windows on the walls - and refused to let her have curtains. Privacy apparently wasn’t as important as making sure she didn’t have oversleeping as an excuse.

She swore at the sun, as she did every morning, and felt around in the bed next to her. Before getting out from under the covers, she pulled on her fluffy robe. This little trick she learned back in the hut. Sleep with the clothes you’re going to wear if you want them to be warm in the morning.

She trudged out to the main room and kitchen, beginning the process of preparing breakfast. Another rule of the house, if you are up first, you cook first. Same for dinner and coming home. Lunch they were on their own. There was a housemaid when she first arrived, but… she didn’t last long. She found the tea kettle and set about making hot water while she poured oats into bowls. From their icebox - a box they just left sealed outside to let winter keep cold - she pulled out a package of cured bacon. The kettle whistled, and she used the entire batch to steep the coffee. The next round of water was for the oatmeal.

The shadows between the windows grew and darkened. Before he even stepped out, Nesta greeted him.

“I’m making coffee. Get a cup if you want some.”

“Thank you. I’ll take bacon, too, if you don’t mind.”

“It’s Cass’s money,” she answered, adding three more pieces to the griddle.

Azriel was the only one from Velaris that visited with any sort of regularity, mostly due to how closely he needed to work with Cassian. He would come up about once a week for updates or meetings or to winnow Cass somewhere. He had begun to make a habit out of arriving early to chat with Nesta. Sometimes he just came up to hang out with them. He probably only came up to spend time with Cassian, but since she was usually around, they included her.

No one else from the Inner Circle bothered to visit. Rhysand and Feyre came up once, but that… did not end well. Elain felt too guilty to come see the sister whose banishment she had consented to. Morrigan wasn’t even on the island, so it wasn’t a surprise she didn’t stop by. And Amren… Amren was keeping her vow to not speak to Nesta until she apologised to Morrigan. Something Nesta still didn’t think she needed to do.

Morrigan spent 4 nights a week at a gay bar. How the fuck was Nesta supposed to know she wasn’t out?

“Elain asked me to bring this,” he conjured a set of books and hand-knitted socks into existence, placing both onto the table while pouring himself a cup. The books were tied together with ribbons and decorated with small bows, clearly meant to be her Solstice present. The socks - well, Elain had taken up knitting sometime in the last year and had Azriel deliver a pair every time he visited.

“Why didn’t she just ask Cassian to bring it back with him?” Nesta scooped some brown sugar into her oatmeal.

The ever so slight blush on his cheeks told her what his answer did not. “She wanted to make sure you had a present for the holiday.”

“Because she knows how much I care about holidays,” and it had nothing at all to do with you leaving from her room this morning and it seeming convenient at the time. They wanted to be discrete, and Nesta accepted that - no matter how bad they were at hiding it. She poured in the hot water into her breakfast and stirred. “Any messages with that present?”

“The bacon looks done.”

“Azriel.”

He sighed. “No.”

Nesta tightened her jaw and moved the bacon from the stove to a plate, allowing him to have a piece. She wasn’t sure if she was more pissed that he didn’t have a message or that she was still hoping he would. Either way she was going to play it off. “I’m surprised they didn’t have you hock me about going, too.”

Az cocked his head. “Cass made it pretty clear you weren’t ready for that.” She snapped up at him.

“And what was his barometer for knowing if I was ready?” She sneered.

But Az only shrugged, well accustomed to playing referee for Cassian and Nesta by now. “You not wanting to go.”

Nesta was still thinking about Azriel’s answer by the time Emerie came over. She couldn’t decide if Cassian was being a presumptive ass or if he was being genuinely considerate. He had a habit of being both interchangeably. Like when he finally made his way to the kitchen, fully dressed and demanding breakfast. He added in some last minute jabs about coming back early if she got lonely as Az winnowed away with him. And even through the mocking tone, the message was clear. “If you don’t want to be alone, just say the word and I’ll come back.”

He still didn’t know she was spending today with Emerie then.

“Do you not own any decorations or do you just not like them?” she asked, looking around the room.

“What decorations?” Nesta strained in her thoughts, there was a lot of extra shit in Feyre’s living room last year…

“Solstice decorations.You know, candles, holly, garlands,” Emerie explained. It sounded like what Feyre had up - and what most of Velaris had up - but in all honesty she was not sober enough last year to make the connection that it was for the holiday and wasn’t just some seasonal nonsense. Emerie squinted at her and placed a wrapped box on the table. Presents!

Fuck. That’s right. Fae exchange presents on the Solstice.

“I honestly don’t know.”

Emerie squinted at her. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

Nesta shrugged. “Humans don’t have holidays.” At most they had festivals, but they were distinctly not holidays, just an excuse to drink and dance with as many strangers as possible. The closest thing they had to a formal holiday was Treaty Day, and even that was not the intimate affair this seemed to be. She hadn’t even heard of a Solstice dinner until Feyre asked her to go last year.

“How do you not have holidays?” she asked.

“Holidays used to be very dangerous days to be human.” There were plenty of horror-stories around the suffering of human slaves on religious days. Whether they were being traded as gifts or killed as sacrifices... even if the stories were exaggerations, it led to whole-sale rejection of everything religious by human society.

“So you know nothing about solstice?” Emerie placed a hand on her hip.

“It is the longest night of the year.”

Emerie made it her mission to instruct Nesta on the finer points of an Illyrian solstice. First and foremost, every 5 years it was the last day of the Blood Rite. The theme of doing battle still continued in the other years, most tribes had hunts or tournaments for the men to mark the occasion. Women were expected to work the day to prepare for the night. The night of the Solstice was the only true peace Illyria ever saw. Solstice nights were for feasting, music, and dancing. Fighting after dark was strictly forbidden. Gifts were expected between families, friends, and especially rivals. It symbolized an acceptance that though Illyrians may compete with one another, they were still members of one army.

“Does this tribe have a tournament?” Nesta asked. Cassian hadn’t mentioned anything about it, or a feast afterwards, but he might not have thought her interested. Or ready, she thought ruefully.

“Devlon hosts a melee tournament. Puts all the entrants in the ring together and waits to see who comes out. The large feast at the end is prepared by entrant’s families,” Nesta knew she meant women in those families, “For the entrants and their families. Dad didn’t enter, so we would just watch the tournament and then spend the night at home.”

“Do you want to watch the tournament this year?”

“Yeah but you’re still in your pajamas,” Emerie laughed.

She watched by the door as Nesta dressed in her warmest clothes. Watching men fight on her day off wasn’t exactly Nesta’s idea of a good time. But Emerie wanted to go. And Cassian had tried to make the decision of whether or not she should go by not telling her about it, so that in and of itself made her want to go. Because neither were entering, and certainly neither were cooking, they wouldn’t be able to attend the feast after. But that’s just as well. A night back at the house with hot drinks and Cassian’s pantry seemed just fine to both of them.

The tournament took place in the training rings. Normally the 5 or so rings were roped off from one another, allowing different ages and skill levels to train separately. But today Devlon had taken down the separators, providing an obnoxiously large space for his melee. But it was needed. It seemed every one of Devlon’s soldiers signed up for the tournament. About 200 competitors, ranging from small boys to grown men. There were even some father-son pairs helping each other warm up in the ring.

Outside the rings, there was yet another crowd of voyeurs. Women and girls taking breaks from their preparations to watch, the merchant families - like Emerie’s, and the men too old and frail to compete anymore. Standing at the head of it all was Devlon, a poor-man’s Cassian. He caught wind of them walking up and immediately flared at the sight of Nesta before turning back to the tournament. Being a witch in Illyria had certain perks. Devlon’s apprehension being only part of it. The crowd parting for them, allowing them to stand at his side and have the best view, was another.

“Soldiers!” Devlon called as he stepped forward. All 200 men turned to him at attention, well trained by now. “You know the rules. No siphons, no weapons, no flying, no killing. You fall, you’re out. You yield, you’re out. You get knocked out of the ring, you’re out. The last men standing at sunset wins.” He raised his arm in the air, making it visible to all. He took one last look around the ring, took a breath, and dropped his arm and stepped back as he bellowed, “Lay on!”

The chaos was immediate. One of the younger kids, there without a father to hold them up, fell immediately. The rest were at each other's throats, kicking, punching, wrestling. Part of her was worried that the battle-royale would be too similar to the war. But without the clang of steel and the geysers of blood, she found this was more similar to the crowded dance halls in Velaris. Devlon, now standing next to the girls, kept his eyes on the mock-battle as he spoke. “I thought you’d be with Cassian today.”

“And miss a battle royale? Honestly Devlon, do you know me at all?” She smiled at him, relishing how he flinched at her grin. “Can’t help but notice none of the girls are competing.”

His jaw tightened. “The Solstice melee is not training. It’s tradition.”

“Now you said the same thing about the girls training, too, did you not?” Nesta had no interest in ever learning how to fight herself, and didn’t really care if girls trained or not. But there was a difference between choosing not to do something and not being allowed to do something.

“If Lord Cassian wants to insert his views here as well, he should be here to do it himself.” The harsh words were undercut by the bead of sweat racing down his cheek. He wasn’t wrong. That was part of the reason Cass was stationed up here full time. Changing the rules around women required full time intervention. In Nesta’s mind, it also required more input from the women, but that was a discussion for another time.

“Maybe next year,” Nesta yawned. She watched the battle progress. After the initial early eliminations, they had plateaued into a minor stalemate. Some alliances also became clear. Groups of friends or families fighting together, watching each other’s back, catching each other before they fell. She didn’t cheer as the crowd or Emerie did. Rather, her and Devlon seemed to be the only calm people there.

Then… something odd happened. One of the teenage boys fell suddenly. He didn’t seem to get hit particularly hard, for one. And secondly, he didn’t get back up. Both Devlon and Nesta leaned forward, looking closer. She saw it first, sniffed it out. Blood. The boy had been hit in the side and was bleeding from the wound.

“Devlon,” she said very carefully.

“I know, I didn’t see who did it.”

“We need to get him out.”

“His friends will get him out.”

She held her breath, watching. No one came. She hadn’t been watching him particularly, but she didn’t remember him teaming up like the others. The way they walked around him… “He doesn’t have friends,” she snarled. Even Emerie gulped as Nesta’s anger stirred the well of her power. Cass told her stories. Back when the shakes and cold sweats were unbearable, he stayed up with her and told stories, trying to distract her through it. Trading one dark truth for another. She told him about watching her mother die, he told her that he was alone for years until Rhys. A bastard that was left to fend for himself, potentially to die if he wasn’t strong enough. From the way they walked over this kid, he was the same. She needed to get him out of there. He was bleeding out and no one was doing a damn thing about it.

“We cannot interfere with the melee,” Devlon said, “it’s against the rules.”

“So is weapons, but someone clearly has a knife,” she spat. Devlon didn’t say anything to that. He just kept scanning the make-shift battlefield, searching. “There!” he shouted, and his green siphon flashed. Another teenager was plucked into the air by his wings. He kicked and thrashed, a small knife in his fist. Devlon pulled the kid to him, releasing his magic’s grip and decking as asshole as he got in range. The boy went down with just that one hit.

But the first boy was still out there. He was still bleeding out. Alone in a crowd. He was going to die. He was going to die in this little mock battle where killing was strictly forbidden. Was this why Cassian didn’t tell her about it? Did he have holidays like this? Did older boys gang up on him and try to kill him without anyone noticing? Was he left alone to bleed on his own?

“Nesta!”

Emerie’s voice was farther away than it should have been, and muffled by a crowd of idiots fighting with one another. She wasn’t entirely sure how she got here, but Nesta was standing over the fallen boy. As they registered her presence, one by one the soldiers stopped. “The witch.” “It’s the witch.” “Why is the witch here?” She ignored them all, kneeling down to the injured. He was pale and grimacing, having lost a lot of blood - still losing it, actually. The knife had gotten him just below the ribs, catching who knows which organs. Without another word she picked him up, allowing his head to rest against his shoulder and his body to rest on her torso.

She turned back to Emerie and Devlon, one watching with concern, the other pissed as hell. She stepped towards them, slowly, carefully. She didn’t want to jostle the kid’s injuries more than necessary. No one came near her as she walked out of the ring. At first she thought it was the same as the audience, that they were simply afraid of the witch. But a glance around gave her a different answer.

Her power extended around her in a sphere, creating barriers of ethereal flowing silver. The grass around her withered and died, and no man here wanted to see what would happen if they touched the walls of silver flames. When she got to the edge of the ring, the rope touched her power and rotted to nothing. She didn’t know how this boy still lived in her arms, but he was still breathing- barely. She spoke to both Devlon and Emerie.

“He needs a healer.”

“I’ll find Marta and have her meet you at the house.”

Nesta nodded to her friend and turned to walk the familiar path to Cassian’s house, her power dying down as she crossed the threshold.

Marta arrived at the same time she did. They set the kid down on the kitchen table as the old woman got to work. The boy did get stabbed, but only in the liver. It took longer than Nesta would have thought, certainly longer than the battlefield-healing she remembered from the war, but Marta was able to stabilize him and stitch him up. She left them with instructions to make sure the boy didn’t get infected or pop a stitch in the night.

“Not how you planned to spend the Solstice, I’m guessing?” Nesta asked.

Emerie tilted her head, “No but seeing every warrior in the village piss himself is worth it.” She slumped down on the couch. “We have a moment, want to open your present?” she gestured to the box on the table.

“Y-yeah, just let me grab yours.” Nesta ran back to her room. She grabbed the stack of books Elain bought her, still wrapped from this morning. Definitely a faux paus, but she would never know.

Nesta came back out with the present and set it in front of Emerie. “Happy Solstice.” The look of awe and excitement was worth it. As Emerie began to untie the books, Nesta began to unwrap her present. Under the paper was a long, thin box. She unlidded it to find a set of leather and wood hair pins - Illyrian style hair pins, made to not get cold in winter.

“Thank you,” she said, still admiring the etching on the leather thong.

“I’d thank you but, I think mine goes to Elain.”

“What?” Nesta whipped her head up to see the first book open on the table and Emerie holding a hand written note. She was clearly reading it but let Nesta snatch it from her anyway.

“So should I let you borrow the books or-”

“Shush.” Emerie laughed and paged through the first novel as Nesta read the note.

Dear Nesta,

I know you are still upset with me, and with Feyre, for sending you away. And you are right to be upset. You were there for me, after the Cauldron and after Grayson. You held our family together after Feyre left. And when you needed us, needed me, I didn’t know how to help.

I don’t know if it is the power or just my own knowledge of you, but I knew there was nothing I could do. I knew that if I tried to help, I would only fail. And that is not an excuse. Fear of failure does not make not trying ok, but it is what I did. And I am sorry.

I know putting this in a letter hidden in a book is still the coward’s way, but I don’t think I could face you if I didn’t apologize first. I hope to have Azriel take me for a visit after the Solstice if you would have me.

Your sister,

Elain

___

They stayed up most of the night, playing cards, reading, and watching over the boy. Nesta had planned to stay up the full night, but using her power that day and waking up at 6 am had taken its toll. She found herself drowsing into her cards. Around 3am, Emerie sent Nesta to bed, agreeing to stay up and keep watch. Nesta’s head barely hit the pillow before she was out.

She woke in darkness. Not odd for her. Waking up in the middle night was fairly common. But when she looked to her window, she saw that it was not night. There was sunlight shining behind the makeshift curtain someone had thrown over her window. She pushed herself up. Who?

“You’re up.”

She turned her attention to the chair on the other side of her bed. Cassian sat there, watching over her with an indecipherable expression. She sat up.

“When did you get home?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. It was down and knotted, unusual for him. There were bags under his eyes. “Last night, before dawn. Az brought me back,” he brought his hands together and looked at her. “Emerie told me what happened. You lost control again.”

“How’s the boy?”

“Petros is fine. I moved him to my room to sleep off the rest of the potion the healer gave him.”

“That’s good.”

“No, you couldn’t,” his hands gently reached out and lifted her face to look at him. “Why couldn’t you?”

Cassian moved to the bed, sitting next to Nesta. “You lost control for him.”

“I-I couldn’t just let him bleed out,” she explained, staring at a spot on the bedspread.

Because he reminded me of you. She didn’t know if she said the words out loud or not. But Cassian’s answering kiss was so soft, so gentle, so sweet, she didn’t care. She responded to his kiss in kind, her hand cupping his face, finally feeling those perfectly chiselled cheekbones. His tongue passed over her lower lip and she opened for him, inviting him deeper. She met his tongue with her own and wrapped her hands around the back of his head, pulling him closer. He grinned through the kiss, gently placed his hand on her shoulders, and pushed her back down on the bed.

It was the first time Nesta stayed for breakfast after.

___________

Tagging potential readers:

@perseusannabeth

#secret snowflake #Nesta Archeron #Nessian #Cassian #post Acowar #post acofas #elain archeron #emerie #Nesta and Emerie will be besties if it kills me #Nesta and Cassian adopt that kid.#Potato-burp is ask-able tumblr #so that one is in the exchange.#but my writing goes here so here we are #never posted fic directly to tumblr before.#weird

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mrsluthordanvers · 3 years

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This may seem like a really random question but has writing and reading femslash helped you come into your sexual and/or gender identities? I've been in the Supergirl fandom and other primarily f/f fandoms for quite some time and this is something that I've been wondering about recently.

Yes!!

This got really long, and really rambly, and probably tells more about my experience with fandom then you needed to know to answer this question. But here it is lol

I grew up in a relatively conservative and catholic family with limited access to media both bc of this and bc my family was low income. I remember as a little kid we only had a couple channels and when we did get cable when I was older, my parents would stop pay for it during summer months because they wanted us to go outside.

The only gay media I remember ever seeing growing up in my parents house was Imagine Me & You. I caught it once on TV and I have vivid memories of realizing what I was watching and sitting on the edge of the couch paranoid that my parents would come downstairs and catch me watching it. I remember setting up the remote so that when I hit the quick back button it would take me back to some cartoon channel. And glee. Which I was surprisingly actually allowed to watch. I was always waiting for it to get turned off but it never was.

Both my parents were very big on encouraging reading. When we asked for books, it was almost the only time I don’t remember being told no. I remember I spent tons of time in libraries as a kid and it was one of the only places I was allowed to go after school by myself when I was in junior high. And I loved to write, my mom was always asking her to tell me stories and I was always writing in journals.

Basically what I’m saying is that I really did Not have exposure to the gay community. And looking back it seems really natural that I started reading and writing femslash.

It took me a long time to get into though, and to seek out. Instead I was sneaking Nora Roberts books out of the library at grade 7 because they had sex in them. Sex, I thought, that was safe/healthy/whatever because these were the books my sister was reading. Plus my mom said they were too mature for me, and what’s a better motivator then being told no. I didn’t find famslash until very late into high school bc it never even occur to me that I could be reading cheesy romances that were f/f instead.

My first experience actually reading femslash was Rizzles fics on ff.net. I honestly have no idea how I found it bc at the time I couldn’t have told you what fandom was, or that tumblr existed. The only thing I remember knowing about fanfic was that if you said you read fanfic people assumed you were reading about weird sex about characters and would laugh at you. Honestly I might have only found fanfics bc glee was really big at the same time and I was probably hearing people talk about ships and fanfic even if I don’t remember it now. Either way I found it lol. And I read A Lot of rizzoli and isles fics.

And it helped. Towards the end of high school was when it really started to dawn on me that I might like girls and I didn’t have words for it, I didn’t know there was a community, and there certainly wasn’t people I was willing to ask.

Reading femslash was like opening a door. Suddenly I was being introduced to the same kind of cheesy romance writing I was already reading. I was being introduced to the idea of two women going on dates. Having healthy relationships. Having unhealthy relationships. Soft sex. Rough sex. Falling in love. Getting married. Having kids. And it really started to solidify that I liked women.

Up until that point the idea of being gay scared the fuck out of me bc what I knew was so limited, to me being gay = being alone. It meant I wasn’t allowed to have any of those things and I really resisted that.

Reading femslash was a big part of changing that perspective. It made me comfortable enough to tell a girl at 19 I had a crush on her. It helped me feel like it was okay to tell people I wasn’t straight when I went to university. It prompted me to search out more gay media when I went to university. I started to watch glee again. I watched DEBS, and Imagine Me and You, and Saving Face, and Gray Matters, and Bloomington, and Kissing Jessica Stein, and Loving Annabelle. Basically I went through the LGBT section of Netflix in a year.

A friend introduced me to tumblr and told me there was a big gay community. I followed some cool people and aesthetic blogs but honestly I still wasn’t quite finding it.

Then I watched The 100 while it was in season 2 in my last year of university. Completely unaware of Clarke and Lexa. I became obsessed lol. They kissed on screen and it was like a switch went off. I don’t know why it was that show instead of anything else I had been watching that spurred me on. But it did. I started looking up accounts on tumblr and following people and reading so so so much fanfic. I had started to find that vast community on tumblr my friend mentioned and started sending people asks and saw people actually answering asks, and posting their art and their writing. It encouraged me to try writing again, and ask a couple people if they would read stuff I posted.

And then supergirl came out and I was soooo excited for it that I started to try mimicking accounts I saw in the clexa fandom. I figured out how to make gifsets, and I liveblogged, and my friend told me to make a side fandom blog or she’d unfollow me lmao. Which I also didn’t know people did. I started this blog just before season 2 happened and it made for the perfect storm. I already had a small following, I was making content (even if it wasn’t great), and Lena got introduced. And suddenly I REALLY discovered how vast the gay community is bc it was suddenly knocking at my door. It was also a big BIG learning curve.

I was reading people’s fanfics and looking at their fanart. I was seeing depictions of different sexualities. And how two characters can be interpreted in such vastly different ways. I was being shown perspectives I hadn’t seen before, some that made me stop and go. Oh. It helped me identify my first label, and then also taught me labels can change, and mine did. I wasn’t just reading fics about two women in a relationship, I was opening fics and seeing me. I saw a piece of fanart of Butch Kara and thought, she looks like me. And then I started to see people writing about butch Kara and commenting about butch Kara and it wasn’t just, she looks like me. It became she looks like me, and that is desirable. And that gave me confidence. I stopped shaving, my wardrobe has started to change, I started buying things I wanted to wear not that I thought I should wear. I learned I wanted people to see me and think I was handsome or attractive before they thought I pretty or cute lol

Writing femslash has a different kind of self reflection. I like to think I have started to notice when I project things on to characters, and think about why those things are important to me. Or why I get defensive over certain headcanons. All things that have made me step back and look at my own sexuality and gender identity. Which honestly I’m still figuring out and is still changing, but I’ve learned that’s okay too (fanfic has also normalized that for me lol)

Art is meant to make you feel things, think about things. I don’t think fanfic or fanart is any different. Sometimes it is just meant to make you feel you horny and sometimes it makes you reflect on whether or not you might be butch. Personally I think it’s very cool that it’s so powerful

#no clue what to tag this #y'all getting a big dose of me today #this took me forever to wrangle up in my head and write #but short answer #yes femslash has definitely helped me navigate my sexuality and gender #answered #Anonymous

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pinky-the-elephant-room · 4 years

Text

Restart

AN: Ok so I’ve been gone for a while but I’ve hit a milestone in my followers and I decided to write one for my original anime hubby. He’s an oldie but a classic. Everyone loves Kakashi-sensei. Anyway It’s a long one so I hope you enjoy!

Warning: Implied smut but fairly SFW.

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Everyone has read the Fanfiction, and everyone has read the stories. Someone mysteriously dies and gets reborn in a new world. Only to train and become a badass before eventually getting their favorite character to fall in love with them. All while changing the story to prevent people, they’ve never met from dying. It was a wish fulfilment story and it works as entertainment. But real life is so much more difficult than anyone realizes.

Because in the end the person I was before never really changed even when I was reborn into a world of ninjas.

My first memory that I can clearly remember is eating ice cream outside my parent’s farm. I was born in a mundane village a few miles from Konoha. Ice cream was a rare summer treat that my parents occasionally indulged me and my five siblings in. It was on this rice farm where I spent the first five years of my childhood. I went to a civilian school that taught me to write and read before spending the rest of my days helping my family. I remembered nothing from my previous life. Just flashbacks and deja vus that left reminiscent feelings lurking in the back of my mind. Kanji was unexpectedly hard for me versus my sibling who picked it up with ease. Yet, when I finally grasped the language, I kept journals of writings not knowing that it was a passion resembling my former self. I also never understood my connection with cats. I was known as the resident cat girl that went around picking up stray cats to bring back to our farm. And the cats formed a bond, only tolerating me and hissing at everyone else who dared to approach them.

The peaceful years unfortunately didn’t last. Over the years war and bandits took a toll on our quiet town and maintaining a farm was no longer profitable. So, my parents made the decision to sell off their land and move to Konoha. Though, my parents were apprehensive, me and my sibling were ecstatic at living in a shinobi village. Everyone knew of shinobis, the legends surrounding them. Tales of bravery, heartache, and loyalty, it fascinated the residents of the village.

We moved into Konoha early August just before winter arrived and were citizens after 3 months. The process was short due to our lack of shinobi lineage and arriving from a civilian farm town. It was in Konoha that I really got my first exposure to what shinobis actually were. Seeing them jump off the roofs while my father tended his produce stall was mesmerizing. Playing ninja with the rest of the kids and constantly being surrounded by the hype eventually got to the point where I wanted to become a ninja myself. Along with two of my younger siblings, I begged my parents to attend the academy. They eventually relented when they realized the village offered funding for civilian children to attend. I was the only one out of my siblings to pass the entrance exam. I was the only one physically fit enough where they thought I had potential. when I left for that first day, it led to some tantrums and pouting from my siblings who didn’t make it. They eventually overcame their jealousy. They loved to hear about each and every new jutsu that I learned.

It was at the academy when I first saw him. It was him who destroyed my delusions and awakened my suppressed memories. It was Itachi Uchiha. Yet, despite his young age he kept up with the rest of his older classmates. He was only 5 years old, a prodigy amongst prodigies. When I saw his cherub, cute face for the first time, it gave me a headache. It started off as a numbing sensation on the side of my head. I collapsed on my bed from the exhaustion, closing my eyes because the blurred vision made the pain that much worse. I slept off my headache for the rest of the day. And all my previous memories were unlocked.

I was a boring human being. A lazy person who had a multitude of mental issues that barely survived off my paycheck. Got married to an equally mundane individual and by the time we were 30, the passion had worn off. We never got divorced, too afraid of dating again and leaving our two children without each other. The only happiness that kept me grounded was my writing and my hobbies. Growing up I loved anime and lessened as I grew up with more and more responsibility. But Naruto was my childhood and coping mechanism when I got bullied. And out of Naruto was my favorite character, Itachi Uchiha.

I don’t think I need to explain why anyone likes Itachi. From his tragic background and his love for his younger brother. Once as a naïve girl, I wanted to find someone like him or at least wished for a brother who loved his younger siblings like he did. And now somehow those desires came true. Because he sat only 3 rows away. Coupled with my new body’s memories of admiration for the young boy and along with my love and knowledge of what he was going to do in the future, made me yearn for him.

Not in a weird, sexual way. After all, I was still only 8 and he 5, but I wanted to be his friend. I wanted to be his confidant and most of all I wanted to save him.

When I spotted him alone at a lunch break, I decided to go introduce myself. This was going to be the new beginning of a friendship and hopefully more down the lane.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves before approaching the quiet boy.

“Hello, are you Itachi-kun? Nice to meet you! I’m L/N Y/N and I sit behind you,” I cheerfully said and waved at him excitedly.

He blinked slowly and stared at me for a few minutes.

“Yes…. Nice to meet you too,” he uttered.

He stared at me for a few more minutes, making the situation more and more awkward. I let out a nervous chuckle and shuffled my feet at his intense gaze.

Itachi raised his eyebrow as if asking if I wanted anything else.

“Well I-“ I began, but was interrupted by a loud screech.

A boy collided with Itachi and knocked him over. The two tussled for a few minutes, the unknown boy laughing gleefully. While Itachi just sighed and dodged his rambunctious friend.

“Oy! Itachi, did you bring an extra bento that Mikoto-sama prepared?” The boy looked up and I stopped breathing.

It was a clearly healthy and alive, Shisui Uchiha. After a few minutes as the boys conversed, Shisui finally noticed me standing awkwardly in front of them.

He looked at me curiously and asked, “who are you?”

“That’s just my classmate. Anyway, Shisui I have my bento over there. Come,” the solemn boy said. The two boys then left while I just watched wide eyed.

Ok, so the first introduction didn’t go as I planned but I tried multiple times. However, each attempt was just as awkward as the first as I stammered and squirmed in front of Itachi’s inquisitive gaze. Apparently, my inept skills at talking to boys had somehow labeled me as a fangirl, I overheard the young boy tell his cousin.

Once after class, I watched a pretty Izumi clutch a content Itachi as he conversed with Shisui. The three Uchiha unaware of the turmoil in my heart as they went home for the day happily. I realized that day Itachi didn’t have a place for me. This world had no place for me because I was never meant to be here. This story wasn’t mine and it was never going to be.

I never tried again to attempt a conversation, too embarrassed by being called a fangirl. Before I knew it, the year was over and Itachi had graduated early along with his talented cousin. Farther away from my reach than ever, I again realized the difference between myself and the genius. I was still stuck in the academy at 9 years old with my peers. Most of all I knew in the depths of my heart that I couldn’t save him from his fate. Reality was much more bitter than anyone realized.

As for me I finally graduated on my birthday and my parents took us all out for yakitori at a restaurant. I was still going to try my hardest to be the best shinobi I possibly could be. At least if I couldn’t save Itachi and the Uchiha from the inevitable, which I doubt most people in my place could.

Unfortunately for me, my hardest didn’t amount to much. My sensei was a young impatient Genma who ironically had a toothpick in his mouth instead of a senbon. Let me summarize it for you, my team failed. Miserably. I stood there in horror, watching as my hopes and dreams for the future dissolved right in front of me. I rushed after Genma, pleading, and begging for another chance. Even resorting to full on ugly crying while he stood looking painfully uncomfortable.

“Please! I just wanna make a difference!” I begged as tears dripped down my face.

He sighed. “Fine! Just please stop crying. You’re embarrassing yourself and me.”

Genma recommended me for the Genin corps. It wasn’t where I wanted to be, but I also didn’t want to go back to academy. I figured if I spent a year on the corps, I could eventually find myself a Genin team before advancing onto Chunin.

However, once again what actually happened was far from my expectation. I didn’t spend a year or 2 years. I spent 7 years on the Genin corps. S-E-V-E-N. Years. I even spent a year on a Genin team when I was 13 only to realize my potential compared to my peers was very low. Don’t get me wrong my reincarnated body was ten times healthier and in shape than my previous coach potato one. I could barely run a mile in my previous life whereas now I could run 3 miles. However, that achievement paled in comparison to the average ninja. No matter what I did, whether it was taijutsu, genjutsu, or even ninjutsu was dull compared to everyone else. My punches lacked force, I didn’t have enough chakra for the higher level jutsus, and I couldn’t even tell the difference between a basic genjutsu to a complicated one.

Basically, I sucked, so I stuck to Genin corps. For the money of course, it paid pretty well in comparison to civilian jobs. I bought an apartment at 15 and I was able to provide for myself. But the crushing truth took a toll on my mental health. I just spend the time where I wasn’t working in my bed. I barely had energy to feed myself. I didn’t snap out of until I got straightened out by my mother.

“Y/N! When was the last time you took a bath or had a proper night sleep?!” Okasan yelled when she made an impromptu visit to my apartment.

I shrugged and took a bite of my rice ball that Okasan so nicely prepared for me.

“Look, I know being a ninja was your goal. But not everything in life works out. And not everyone has to be a shinobi to have a good life!” she said as her eyes softened.

“But what else am I supposed to do? I’ve been training to be a shinobi since I was 8 years old and none of the other jobs pay so generously,” I replied dully.

Okasan reached over and patted my hand. “Well, you don’t have to quit being a Genin just yet. Try new things or figure what else you want to do before you retire. Hell, when was the last time you had a hobby? You don’t even write like you use to.”

I considered it, maybe I could take up calligraphy or start writing again like I used to. I haven’t written anything down since I made Genin.

“Alright, I’ll think about it. But I’m not promising anything,” I grumbled.

“As long as you snap out of this funk and start taking care of yourself is all I ask for, Y/N” Okasan said with a soft smile.

It took a while after that conversation, but little by little I started to put in effort again. I cut my shaggy hair into an acceptable style, showered every day, and ate my meals on time. I even adopted a little stray off the streets that made itself home in my small apartment. One night coming home after my late shift, I stopped by a bookstore to buy a sturdy journal. I started off by journaling my daily life before letting my creative mind drift. In my previous life, I was a self-published erotica writer that basically did it for fun. Maybe it was something I could attempt again.

There were many drafts before I settled on a topic that I felt passionate about. In the Elemental nations, they idealized a woman who waited. Just take the bestselling Icha Icha novel for example, it involved a ninja who abandoned his wife because he was scared his enemies would target her. He spent the entire novel hoeing his way through the countries, only to realize he was still in love with his wife. The wife, who by the way, spent years celibate and faithfully waiting for her husband. That novel made me infuriatingly mad because it highlighted the double standards of the world I was born in so well. Hell, even in the future Sakura and Hinata would waste their lives, faithfully waiting on the men they love to reciprocate their feelings.

So, for my novel I decided to juxtapose those stereotypes by writing a novel about a woman named Sayaka whose boyfriend would break up with her, unknowing she was pregnant with his child. She spends her life trying to provide for her child, only for him to be kidnapped because he had a rare keikei genkai. She hires a local mercenary (Mahiro) except he’s not interested in her money but rather her. The rest of the plot was not decided yet, but I would see where it goes and plan accordingly.

The more I wrote the better I felt and the disappointment that was my career no longer felt like a death sentence. Without a laptop or anything to help me write, I had to resort to buying a used typewriter. Still I would rush home each day, excited to write another chapter. Or to get lost in the filthy world of the mercenary and desperate mother. There weren’t a lot of people I could trust to edit so I spent months editing and reediting until I had the best version of my novel. And then when I was done, I had no idea what to do with it. Did I really want to become an erotica author in this world? As violent as it was, the Elemental nations were still conservative regarding sexuality. There were many female readers who loved Icha Icha but didn’t show it in public because it was seen as a dirty book for old men. After much deliberation, I decided to contact publishing agencies that weren’t affiliated with Icha Icha.

Waiting for their responses took months and many rejections before my novel was picked up by a small agency that mostly published Nonfiction. The agency would send an editor to talk about contracts and the novel itself to Konoha. So, by my 18th birthday, I was anxiously awaiting where else fate would take me.

The editor and I had decided on a family restaurant to meet up and I dressed in my best clothes to give off the optimum impression. I really wanted this to work out for me. For once.

It didn’t take long before a harried young man in a suit came in and looked around anxiously.

“Nino-san! Over here!” I called out and waved my hand to get his attention.

He looked at me in surprise and sat down across from me.

“Uh, hello. Excuse me can you tell when Y/N-san will arrive? I’m kind of on a deadline.”

I looked at him weirdly. “Um, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you,” I said cautiously.

He stuttered wildly, blushing as he pointed at me. “B-be serious! No way are you her! You’re way too young to be writing such a – “

“Filthy, dirty novel?” I finished wryly.

He shook his head vigorously. “No! I meant such a hardcore erotica! I-I’m so sorry that came out wrong.”

I just laughed. “It’s ok. I’m a shinobi, we age faster than we look due to the trauma.”

We spent the next hour talking about the novel itself and how it would be promoted.

“So, Y/N-san. Our agency usually doesn’t deal with erotica. But your novel has a good chance to sell well if someone promoted it correctly. We want this to be known as the Icha Icha for women.”

I felt my eyebrows furrow. “Isn’t that a little presumptuous? Won’t I just get hate if I don’t live up to the expectations?”

The man let out a chuckle. “That’s true but I don’t think most people will be disappointed by it. Besides it’s very important for new authors to get their name out there. Maybe for future sequels we can tone it down, but for the first one we want to start off with a bang! Any publicity is better than none,” he reasoned.

Realizing the editor might have a point, I agreed and signed a contract with the publishing agency. The novel was due to be out December which is 6 months from now on. For the first time in a while I had achieved my goals. I had managed something without it going terribly wrong.

I got a small sum of money when I signed the contract, but I really wouldn’t be to collect royalties until the book was published. So, for the rest of my time I diligently did my job as a Genin by delivering messages and other nonsense jobs that were left over. As I avoided the shinobi bars that were filled with accomplished Chunins and Jounins, I promised myself that I would never again be embarrassed to walk these streets again. For the past few years, I had kept my eyes down as I walked through the villages as I got older and older, yet I still remained a Genin.

‘Please no more. Give me something to be proud of.’ I begged in my mind. Even if it meant a trashy porn, I was so low on self-esteem, anything would be worthwhile.

Luckily for me, it seemed like 18 years of bad karma was finally going to be turned around as the date to publish my novel got closer and closer. The agency hadn’t lied, they promoted my novel almost aggressively. Every bookstore had huge advertisement declaring the next big hit. Though, I had giggled almost manically when I saw the book’s cover for the first time. It reminded me of the many trashy novels from my previous life with the man’s shirtless abs on display with a beautiful woman clinging. However, for my novel it was obviously a rogue shinobi with his chest on display as a young girl clutched his biceps. Scarlet Heart series was the name I had chosen, and it stood out on the erotic cover. I saw many curious women fluttering around the display, almost shy in showing their interest. I even saw a man pulling away his pregnant wife as she read the synopsis, muttering angrily to himself.

When the launch of the book occurred, I holed myself in my apartment. I tried to relax and keep myself busy so I wouldn’t be too occupied with the reactions. I even took an entire week off from my usual work, feigning sickness in my family. I hung out with my oldest brother and his newborn son, trying to reacquaint myself with the siblings that I had long neglected.

I met up later with my editor to discuss how the book was faring, hopefully it did decent enough that I could have reason to continue my story. We met up at the same restaurant as before and Nino gave me a brilliant smile that quelled my fears.

“Y/N-san, your book’s sales did amazing in Konoha followed by Iwa and Kumo. The marketing towards women paid off because most of the sales came from women in their 20s to 40s. Heck, there were even a substantial amount from men who were curious. I think you should definitely continue this series. Do you have an idea where you’re going to take the story?” he gushed with excitement.

I sighed with relief, “I’m glad. I was so worried about the response I didn’t even go near any bookstores! As for sequels I have an inkling. I still have to work out everything, but I want to introduce Sayaka’s ex-boyfriend and maybe dabble in a proper love triangle.”

Nino-san nodded and said, “you should be careful how you write that triangle though. Some love triangles can get tedious and annoying, but it does play its part well in keeping the audience’s interest.”

Nino-san and I eagerly discussed the future for Scarlet Heart. I felt a flutter in my heart, knowing that for the first in forever I had something to look forward to.

Time Skip~ 1-year Kakashi POV:

Really with everything he had endured in his life, you would think the world would be willing to give him a break, right? Nope!

Most think it started with Obito’s death, but he thought it started with his father’s suicide that really began the downward spiral. Nevertheless, after his teammate’s death, he and Rin had rushed into a presumably “relationship”. But really it was a way to keep her close, so he didn’t lose anyone else. They never even kissed though he knew Rin desperately wanted to do all the things that couples do. But he remained closed off in those four months before she was killed. By him no less.

Afterwards included him coping with his trauma by joining Anbu (and for a short while Root). His sensei became Hokage; but even he would pass away along with his wife, leaving behind a tiny blond sacrifice for the village to turn their resentment against.

But he was getting ahead himself months before Rin’s death Jiraiya-sama had approached him with a gift.

Jiraiya gave him an exaggerated wink and giggled. “Here gaki. You’re so depressed that Minato and Kushina keep thinking they might have to stage an intervention. But what you need is a distraction and I have just the thing!”

He had handed over a book with a bright red cover before hopping roof to roof all the while laughing obnoxiously.

He took it with a surge of curiosity, emotions he hadn’t felt in a while since Obito tragically passed away (AKA crushed by a boulder, but he digresses).

That started his love, well more like obsession, with the Icha Icha series. First, he was revolted and ashamed, eager to find the Sannin and perhaps show him the effectiveness of his Chidori. But over time his curiosity couldn’t be contained, and he finished the naughty book in two days. He noticed how when he was occupied with the book, he hadn’t once thought of Obito and everything that was wrong with his life. Of course, he had a girlfriend then so he couldn’t risk being seen with the book outside of his humble apartment. But a year after Rin’s death, he ventured out with his hobby. The reactions of the general public had amused him beyond belief and a strange sense of vindictive righteousness set upon seeing his Anbu kohais’ reactions.

The reactions only encouraged him to read everywhere and anywhere. He even managed to piss off Gai once as the incensed man ran away to do a 100 more laps around the village. It didn’t last long before he reappeared to challenge Kakashi once more, but Kakashi appreciated the brief reprieve.

Anyway, the point of this rather tragic flashback wasn’t to gain sympathy for himself, but to showcase the real injustice that occurred at his tender age of 25. His beloved Icha Icha had a rival apparently. Which was bullshit, obviously. He wasn’t blind to the errors of the pornographic novel. The plot was simple, characters were paper-thin, and as more novels debuted in the series, the more apparent the similarities between each novel became. But the series was fast moving, the sex was incredibly detailed and arousing, and the series was frankly addicting. Once someone became a fan, it was impossible not to reach for the next one.

So, when he heard about this supposed series that was going to rival Icha Icha, he had scoffed and rolled his eyes. Many contenders claimed the same thing before they faded off into oblivion when everyone realized the superiority of Icha Icha. The first four months of the series’ debut he made it his mission to ignore all the hype and kept rereading his collection. After all, when the next issue of Icha Icha released, everyone would forget the hype of this wannabe.

Unfortunately, the world never adheres to his expectations and loves to fuck him over every chance it got. Kakashi, once again, had failed another Genin team because Hokage-sama thought he had potential as a sensei. He must have been smoking that pipe too much lately. The rest of his fellow Jounin invited him to a bar where he reluctantly agreed and was dragged off by Asuma.

They settled in and ordered some drinks, while Kakashi read his book, half listening to the conversation around him.

“I’m telling you this book is really good. I know people say it’s for women, but it’s so much more than that.” Kurenai persuaded Genma who just looked skeptical.

“Even Asuma liked it!” She pointed to the smoker who just looked embarrassed at the sudden attention.

Asuma cleared his voice a couple times. “Well, it’s not that bad at all. It kept me busy for a couple of hours for a few days.”

Kurenai rolled her eyes at him. “He loved it. He told me he did.”

Kakashi’s interest peaked and he lowered his book down.

“Wait, are you talking about that new series that everyone’s losing their minds over?”

Kurenai’s eyes lit up and she looked eager rather than the calm, collected Jounin she usually was.

“Yeah, you read it Kakashi? I never thought for once you would put down that trash and try something else.”

Kakashi felt his ire rise and his single visible eyesmiled at the red eyed kunoichi.

“Why Kurenai doesn’t that book also have porn in it? Doesn’t that mean you read trash too?”

Kurenai’s cheeks heated up. “Well, it does but it’s also about a betrayed woman who learns to love again and honestly it’s much more nuanced than whatever Icha Icha achieved in its six sequels.”

Kakashi felt his eyebrows rise. He highly doubted that, but he couldn’t help but add in.

“And how do you know what’s in Icha Icha?”

The blush on Kurenai’s face deepened. “I might have read it but only because Anko forced me to. To ‘loosen’ up or whatever that means.”

Their fellow Jounin chuckled as Kurenai tossed back a drink as she tried to cool her overheated face.

The conversation moved on mercifully for the embarrassed woman, but Kakashi also lost his interest and he returned to the passage where Misaki was educating her lover on the preciseness of oral sex.

Kakashi hoped that would be the last time he ever heard of that book. But again, the hype for this novel continued. He spotted more women with erotica in their hands than he ever did in his lifetime. Even kunoichi seemed to have lost their minds as the book was the hot topic no matter where he went. Even the Hokage’s secretary was seen reading the porn while she was on the job. He was sick and tired of hearing about this supposedly incredible book. Kakashi just wanted to read his book in peace can’t the village go back to a time where it wasn’t consumed by porn?

Kakashi sighed as another day passed and yet another Genin team failed. When will Hokage-sama finally get the message he just wasn’t cut out for teaching? He sighed with relief as he flipped the entrance banner of Ichikaru Ramen and sat down on one of the stools.

“Just a miso ramen. Thanks,” he called out tiredly. Kakashi looked around the restaurant and was surprised to see another person at the other end. He barely noticed her; her chakra presence wasn’t much. She was just in a plain white t shirt and some pants. A civilian he guessed. Kakashi turned back when his order was placed in front of him. He stealthily looked around the restaurant and saw no one was paying attention to him. He pulled down his mask and started eating his meal. It was nice not to eat in big gulps for once lest someone saw his face.

When he was halfway through his meal, he heard the sound of someone turning pages and muttering. He turned around to see his neighbor writing in her book and she seemed to be fairly frustrated. Just as Kakashi was about to turn around and mind his business, he noticed that the book was the infamous Scarlet Hearts. He internally groaned. Really? Just how bad was his luck?

“Is the book any good?” He called out to the young girl.

Oh, damn why was he getting her attention? Abort! Abort! This day didn’t consist of making polite conversations with a civvie.

Just as he was about to maybe perform a last minute shunshin, the girl looked up at him and stared at him in surprise.

He felt nervous when she just kept staring at him for a while. Did she recognize him as the “friend killer” and infamous “copycat ninja”?

“Uh- Hello?” He waved his hands in front of her face.

The girl looked startled and flushed. “Oh, sorry. I got lost in thought. What was your question again?”

Kakashi pointed at her book and asked, “the book, is it as good as the hype says it is?”

She just seemed even more startled by the fact that he was asking about her book. “W-well, I’m not sure about other people’s opinions. But it’s worth reading just for curiosity’s sake. I found it pretty good.”

Kakashi stared at the awful book, wishing he could set it on fire just by glaring at it. “See, I don’t see why people are comparing it to Icha Icha. It can’t possibly be that good!”

“I kind of have to agree on that. The marketing really didn’t do it justice,” the girl muttered.

Kakashi tilted his head towards the younger girl and sent a relaxed smile her way. “Ah, thank you. Finally, someone who understands.”

The girl shook her head. “I meant trying to compare the two books wasn’t a good idea. They’re two different books, the only thing they have in common is that they both have explicit scenes.”

Seeing the confused look on his face, the girl further elaborated. “Icha Icha is intended for a one type of audience and it does its job well. There’s nothing wrong with that after all it has an ardent fan in you. But I feel like Scarlet Heart can be enjoyed by any mature individual. And for me what’s the most important thing is that it portrays its women realistically. Icha Icha is based off this fantasy, ideal type of woman who doesn’t have any drama of her own and goes around solving the male character’s issues. Or she’s a passive victim in the overall story for the hero to win over. This heroine in Scarlet Heart is cynical, hard to get to know due to her past. The male character is a typical chauvinistic guy who thinks he can have anyone he wants. But over time as they get to know each other the layers fall apart to show two lonely people who’ve been waiting for someone to connect to.”

Kakashi looked at the girl critically who sent a tentative smile to him after her long explanation. Her features were quite plain and at first glance she wasn’t anything exceptional to look at. But her smile lit up her entire face. He thought over her words, no one had ever explained the book quite like that. But then again, he never gave them the time to explain either. Perhaps, he was wrong to do so.

“Here maybe you would like to form an opinion yourself and see if it holds up,” she said as she handed over her own copy of Scarlet Heart.

He grabbed it from her grip, touching her soft hands by accident, quickly pulling away. “Are you sure? Weren’t you writing in it earlier?”

With a cute prominent blush, she replied, “it’s fine I bought that paperback copy to write in. I have another one at home. You can keep it. If we meet again tell me what you thought of it.”

Kakashi nodded and put the book with his Icha Icha in the weapon pouch on his hip.

“Mah, I’m sure we will. By the way what’s your name? After all, when I see you next time, I have to thank the person who will put up with my complaints.”

“Oh, I’m L/N Y/N. Nice to meet you,” she said with another bright grin aimed his way.

Ignoring the unconscious shivers that erupted on his body, he returned it with another one of his patent fake smiles.

“Hatake Kakashi. Nice to meet you as well, Y/N-san.”

The conversation died a few minutes later and he paid for his meal before leaving for his lonesome apartment. Maybe today the lonely dwelling won’t be so bad to deal with, what with new reading material the night might just pass by really quickly.

Return to Reader’s POV

You know when I began my porn writing journey in the Naruto world, I never for a second thought I would attract Kakashi’s attention. I mean I knew he read porn, but I honestly thought he would stay attached to Icha Icha forever. In the anime, he still read the book even years after Jiraiya’s death, so it just goes to show how much of a devoted fan he was.

When I met him accidently in Ichikaru Ramen, I was in a state of shock. I’m pretty sure he thought I was just another weird fangirl. ‘Just like Itachi.’ I couldn’t help but think.

But him asking about my novel and actually pouting about the attention it gained made me giggle even hours later. Still giving away the novel I was rereading to spot mistakes and plot holes was bold. I genuinely hoped he liked the novel; it would be a huge compliment if I managed to change his perspective. I know I wasn’t ever going to change his mind about Icha Icha, but he had plenty of money to support both series. I probably wasn’t ever going to see him again, but it was nice to interact with a canon character for once without entirely embarrassing myself.

I shook off the excitement from interacting with the scarecrow sensei and tried to focus on brainstorming my second novel. The love triangle was going to become much more integral in this part and I was going have to work extra hard to make readers sympathize and like Shoutaro. Because many of my readers were already enamored with the hotheaded, flirtatious mercenary with a heart of gold, Mahiro. The best way to build the triangle was to showcase pros and cons of both men. Thereby making the triangle stronger and give readers something to root for. While there would be only one man who would get the girl, I wanted readers to feel conflicted between the two men. However, to keep the choice from happening out of nowhere, I also had to hint throughout the novel why Mahiro and Sayaka was the best choice. So, by the third novel when Sayaka made her choice, it wouldn’t seem like it happened out of nowhere. Indeed, the sequel was harder to write than the first one because I had high expectations to overcome this time. Brainstorming even took longer than normal. Though, it was challenging, I decided needed a break and took a trip to the markets to finally restock my empty fridge.

Slowly I made my way through the vegetable stalls and tried to pick out the ripest ones. Most people usually tried to barter the prices. However, since the massive royalties I had more money than I knew what to do with and so I paid the full amount at each stall. Most of the produce stalls were run by elderly couples and they needed the money for their livelihood.

I bowed to an obasan and thanked her when she gave a few extra tomatoes after I paid.

“You know most people would try to barter the prices down to a fair price,” a deep voice interrupted just as I was about to walk away.

I jumped and almost dropped my produce. A steady hand gripped my hips and set me right. I looked up to the masked, silver haired Jounin. I blushed, feeling his strong hands on my body. His single eye widened a bit before he relaxed and let go of me.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Y-yes, thank you. Hatake-san,” I stuttered and bowed my head.

“Ma, no need to call me Hatake-san. That makes me feel older than people think I am.” He said as he waved off my gratitude.

“Hai, K-kakashi-san then. What are you doing here? No offense but I didn’t realize that elite shinobis had time to shop and cook for themselves.”

It was true from what I heard. All elite shinobi, especially men, rarely cooked for themselves relying on easy to make or restaurants meals to get them through the day. Some even ate rations to forgo meals in a rush.

Kakashi raised his eyebrow at me. “Well, I was actually looking for you. I’ve finished the book you loaned me after a week. It’s only right to return it.”

I shook my head. “It’s alright. I told you to keep it didn’t I?”

I felt my head get hit lightly by something. I looked up to see it was my paperback novel. When did he pull that out? Did he have it on him all this time and I didn’t noticed it until now?

“You’re quite stubborn, aren’t you? Let’s just say I needed an excuse to find my partner in crime and tell her my opinion of the book.”

I sighed, realizing that I couldn’t get away from his rant that he will no doubt tell me with relish on how much he hated the book.

“Alright, but I have to put my groceries away.” I said lifting my bags.

“It’s fine. As long as it isn’t milk or meat it wouldn’t be spoiled for a few hours. Come on, I’ll treat you to some dango.” He walked away slightly slouched and relaxed with his hands in his pockets.

I looked after him helplessly, hesitating on whether I should follow or not.

“You better follow him, jou-chan. He’s quite handsome,” the obasan said as she helped another customer. A few giggles slipped out from the customer and I felt my cheeks go hot from embarrassment. I bowed and thanked the elderly lady again before following the Jounin.

I caught up to him in no time, we both walked silently before we came onto the small stand that was selling the sweet.

Kakashi told me to take a seat on a bench nearby as he grabbed the sweets. I put down my groceries near me as I waited for my companion to return.

He came back with two skewers of dango and handed me one while he held onto the other one.

“So, what did you think of the novel?” I asked as I took a bite of the dango.

“I hate it to admit it but it’s good. Not better than Icha Icha of course, but it’s better than some of the others that tried to ride the coattails of Icha Icha.”

I felt a burst of butterflies inside my stomach and I leaned forward eagerly. “Really?!! What did you like it about it specifically?”

He seemed amused at my enthusiasm. “Ah, well I liked how the author built up the romance. They didn’t have sex right away, but when they did it made sense-“

I felt my heartbeat increase and my ears felt hot when I heard the word sex come out of Kakashi’s mouth. How did I ever not know how nice his deep voice was? I bet he would be really good at dirty talk—Ahh, nononono. That was not a good topic to think about while you’re talking to the man. I bit my lip to concentrate on what Kakashi was trying to tell me.

“And I like how the female characters made smart decisions and acted cautiously instead of getting kidnapped all the time. It made them seem like real people instead of plot conveniences.” He finished with an eyesmile.

I returned his smile, liking that he appreciated the portrayal of the female characters. Some of the detractors apparently didn’t like the more rounded characters and felt they should just be used as sauce instead of being the main dish.

“Do you prefer the woman in Scarlet Hearts or Icha Icha?” I asked playfully.

He narrowed his eyes at my tone. “Weeeell, the women in Icha Icha are much more beautiful, but the women in Scarlet Heart are more attainable than the ones in Icha Icha.”

I let out a laugh. “That’s nice to hear. But I’m pretty sure that Sayaka isn’t a real person. Sorry, Kakashi-san.”

He let out a disappointed sigh. “I guess I will have to safeguard my heart until I can find someone close to her then.”

I snorted knowing Kakashi would remain single even at the end of the series where everyone was getting married and having kids.

“What? You think it’s hopeless?”

I just sent him an innocent smile and said,” I have no idea what you’re talking about Kakashi-san.”

Me and Kakashi stayed for a few more minutes before I decided to head home. Kakashi stuck close to me, telling me he would keep me company until I arrived. He looked surprise at the neighborhood I was living in. The small apartment I was previously inhabited was now upgraded to an upscale three-bedroom apartment. It was a safe neighborhood that was occupied by wealthy merchants and high-ranking shinobis. I ignored his reaction and continued to walk toward my apartment.

When I had trouble trying to juggle my groceries and trying to grab my keys from my purse, Kakashi stepped in to grab my bags. I thanked him and opened the door. He casually walked in and left the bags in the kitchen at my directions.

“Would you like some tea? I think some tea would be good with the sweets we just had.” Kakashi just nodded in agreement as he looked around my apartment. The tiny stray who I adopted became a giant, fluffy monster who was now sniffing Kakashi’s feet and rubbing against his legs.

I giggled and left to make some iced sencha green tea. I tried not to let my excitement that THE Hatake Kakashi was standing in my living room, distract me from being a good host. I filled the glass with tea and dropped some ice cubes in it before putting it on a tray and bringing it out to the living room.

“Kakashi-san? Here’s your tea,” I called out happily and looking up to see Kakashi’s back.

I furrowed my eyebrows when he didn’t respond. “Kakashi-san?” He was still turned around and looking at something.

I put the tray down on a coffee table and approached the unresponsive Jounin. I looked down to see papers in his hand and felt my face pale drastically.

“A-ahhh! That’s not for your eyes!” I laughed hysterically and snatched my papers from his hands. I quickly took all my notes and notebooks which I brainstormed in and dropped them off in my bedroom. With a head full of excuses as to why I had Scarlet Heart’s sequel on the sofa, I made my way back to Kakashi.

“You’re the author of Scarlet Heart?”Was the first thing he asked when he saw my face. I felt my face heat up.

“U-um, no! That was just me amateurly writing as to what I think will happen in the future!”

He shot me a serious look. “Do you think I’m stupid? That was the first chapter all neatly written down. And the character profiles of future characters like her ex-boyfriend are all filled out accurately. Plus, you’re a single young girl that’s living in such a rich neighborhood which many people can’t afford unless they have some serious cash. Cash from a recently released erotica maybe?”

His intense gaze made me sweat profusely and I couldn’t hold eye contact for more than a minute.

“Yes. Yes, I’m the author of Scarlet Hearts.” I whispered, looking at the ground.

I quickly gazed back at him when I heard a snort. Kakashi gave me an incredulous look.

“I can’t believe it. Even though I saw it with my own eyes. You’re so young! How old are you, 16?”

I pouted, puffing out my cheeks. “I’m 19! Besides you’re a shinobi what does age even matter? You’re a legal adult when you’re a Genin!”

Kakashi let out a chuckle and softly patted my head. “I know that but you’re a civilian so it’s different.”

I bit my lips deciding whether to tell him I was actually a former Genin corps. Deciding I didn’t need the genius looking at me in pity, I didn’t correct him.

“Well, now that you know. Please keep this a secret, ok? I just want to live in anonymity and write my books. Hence the pen name.”

Kakashi agreed and messed with my hair some more.

“You got it, Y/N-chan.” I blushed at the added chan in my name.

He downed his iced tea in a hurry when an Anbu appeared at the window with a mission for him. I watched with amazement as Kakashi disappeared with a shunshin and then scowled heavily looking at all the leaves on the floor of my apartment.

“Note to self. Do not let elite shinobi shunshin in and out of my apartment,” I grumbled to myself as I swept up.

Kakashi’s POV 2

You know how once you find out something about someone it changes how you look at them. He was now intensely curious about Y/N. He figured she was a normal innocent girl, but boy was he wrong about everything. How was he supposed to know that the sex scenes that had him riveted to the point that he took a shower to calm himself before he resumed reading was written by a cherub slip of a girl? After his discovery Kakashi was unable to leave her alone. He frequently took time out of day when he wasn’t on a mission or training his helpless cute team (he had a team now!!), he was spending time with Y/N. It was kind of weird at first after all he went out of his way to avoid human contact, but in this case, he wanted to know what made her tick. All her favorite things and her habits. Kakashi wanted to know what made her sad or what made her be flushed with happiness.

Most of all he wanted to know how she came up with all the scenarios in her novel. But even he knew that if he asked her bluntly, she would no doubt kick him out of her apartment and refuse to speak to him again. It also didn’t help that his imagination went wild each time he saw her. All those scenarios would inappropriately pop up in his head and she would star in all of them. The blush on her face gave him a good idea on how she would look with her eyes dilated and with him on top. Whenever that happened the excitement coursing through would become prominent and he had to take a few breaths to calm him down. Imagining Gai in a bikini always did the trick for him.

Kakashi, after months of speculation, came to one conclusion as why Y/N was so fascinating. He wanted her. He wanted her in a way that men who were attracted to women did. In a way that meant commitment and all the mushy feelings. He groaned at that idea, Kakashi so didn’t want to act like Minato-sensei whenever he was around his hot-headed wife.

He could just ignore the feelings; he was quite good at ignoring all the turmoil inside of him. But his crisis shinobi therapist said he could no longer do that. He had to solve his lingering issues if he wanted to move forward with his life like his survivor’s guilt and his unresolved issues with his dead father. So that meant he had to make it obvious to Y/N that he liked her. Should he shout his youthful love on the top of the Hokage mountain at early in the morning like Gai would do? Kakashi chuckled at the novel idea. Ok, he was trying to get her to date him not run away from him. Luckily for him, fate decided to not be a bitch this time and give Y/N a nudge.

Kakashi was inside of her apartment like he usually was nowadays with her round monster of a cat on his lap. He absentmindedly patted the feline as he purred away like no one’s business. His ninken weren’t happy with him lately, but they will have to put up with it because Y/N was going to be around him for a long time if he had anything to say about it. He looked at Y/N who was hard at work on her second novel, typing away at the machine she called a typewriter. No matter what Kakashi did today, he wasn’t able to get her attention. She was intensely focused on the sex scenes apparently, which was a shame. Because he was right here, and she could be doing much more than just imagining it.

A mischievous idea popped into his head.

“So, Y/N-chan,” he called out.

She responded with a distracted “hm”.

“Do those explicit parts have any truth to them?”

That got the attention of Y/N and she turned around with a confused look.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean most people write about what they know. So, I’m asking if you have attempted anything from the books you write?”

Kakashi had pride within himself for the many ways he made Y/N blush. But the flush on her cheeks, ears, and her neck had no rival with the way her eyes seem to swirl with embarrassment.

“Kakashi-kun! I-I-. You can’t just ask that!”

“It’s true though. Everyone does research for their novels. Especially Jiraiya-sama,” he stated nonchalantly despite his eyes beaming with amusement.

She pressed her hands against her overwhelmingly hot cheeks.

“I’m not like that Sannin! I’ve never had sex before! I’m still a virgin. I just write whatever pops into my head,” she mumbled out.

Kakashi got up and made his way to Y/N. He leaned into her face as Y/N tried to scramble back, trying to get some space in between them.

“Y/N, if you ever need inspiration for your book. I’m right here and I’m happy to volunteer for such a good cause,” he said cheekily.

Her eyes widened and she gaped at him. She blinked several times as if she couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth.

Kakashi touched her cheeks, breaking her out of the stupor she was in. As he stroked her soft skin with one hand, the other pulled down his mask to reveal his face.

Y/N let out a squeak and gazed hungrily at his exposed face. Kakashi never considered what people thought of his face honestly but her reaction was gratifying.

He leaned in even closer and her eyes fluttered closed at his proximity. Knowing she was anticipating as much he was, Kakashi wasted no time in connecting their lips. She tasted heavenly and she let out a moan when he gently nipped at her bottom lip. He’s kissed plenty of willing partners, but none excited him the way she did. Her scent and the way her breath hitched when he brought her into his embrace intoxicated him further. It was obvious from the way she was responding; Y/n didn’t have a lot of experience. But he held her face gently and slowly swirled his tongue around hers, guiding her through what might be her first kiss. When she got the hang of it, Kakashi removed his hands from her face to her hips. Not wasting another moment, he gripped her ass tightly and appreciated the thickness he had been admiring for a while. She was an eager little thing and greedy. Every time they separated for a breather; she came back with more intensity than before. It’s like he awakened something, and she was willing to take whatever she could get. Unfortunately for Y/N, he didn’t just want to spend his time kissing. No, he wanted to inspire a very, very naughty section that would light the imagination of every woman in Konoha.

Kakashi pecked her pink, swollen lips one time before removing himself. She looked earnestly at him, trying to reconnect.

“How about you and I head to your room. And I could show you the benefits of a chapter on oral sex,” he huskily whispered.

Apparently, Y/N didn’t need further prompting because she dragged him into her room and swiftly closed the door.

Kakashi spent the rest of the night fulfilling his promising words. And when the second novel of Scarlet Hearts came out, chapter 13 became infamous amongst all. And all the practitioners of oral sex cursed the author because they could not live up to the fantasy that chapter inspired.

#kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi x reader #naruto fanfiction #naruto x reader #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi imagines #kakashi hakate #naruto

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lindberghtm · 3 years

Text

* . desirée lindbergh was spotted in the fashion district adorning prada platform chelsea boots , with some airpod pros on . they’re most likely listening to you know i'm no good by amy winehouse . you may know them as @desi or as that aisha potter lookalike . their twenty first birthday just passed . while living in the upper east side , they’ve gained a bit of a reputation . they’re known to be duplicitous but on the other hand reliable . wonder if they’ll be the next person to hit the headlines . ( cis female / she/her + c / 21+ / she/her ) .

hey !!!!!! i was planning on coming thru with a cool intro to establish myself as a ~ cool ~ person , but covid has absolutely ✨ decimated ✨ my social skills so ,,,,,,, this is what im left with . anywho hi i’m c ( short for clown tbfh ) , im 21+ , from the rainy ole’ pnw , & i use she / her pronouns . i was in wealthy like , , , , AGES ago & tbh i’ve been missing it real bad lately so here i am with a brand new bitch , , , , , ms . desi lindbergh 🖤 i just finished reading the girl with the dragon tattoo so you’ll find elements from that novel in my biography like the names , & the general ‘ company comes first ‘ & ‘ no one gets a divorce in this family ’ attitudes . but hennyway here’s a pinterest board , & my discord is 𝐌 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁#1264 ( the best tiktok song imo ) . my bio is rambly but there are stats at the top , personality & wanted connections ( inc . this sideblog w wanted plots ) at the bottom ! xoxo

* . stats .

full name : desirée ‘ desi ’ charlotte lindbergh - montenegro

age : twenty - two

gender : cis female

pronouns : she / her

pob ; current home : london , england ; current residence in tribeca .

family : henrik lindbergh ( 80 , deceased , ceo of lindbergh corporation ) ; miriam montenegro ( 46 , lives in the upper east side & london , supermodel turned vindictive widow ) ; no siblings or pets .

birthday : september 2 , 1998 ; virgo sun , taurus moon , cancer rising .

career : heiress / model / daddy’s credit card swiper .

drinking / drugs / smoking : yes / no / occasionally .

physical : aisha potter fc , dark brown mid - length hair , dark brown eyes , no tattoos , two ear lobe piercings in each ear , 5 ′ 6 ″ .

* . character biography .

1998 : miriam montenegro , an english model coming from a humble background , made it big when she was scouted for runway shows , eventually making her way to being a household name . by the age of twenty five , she’d found love ( or , financial comfort , rather ) with the fifty nine year old henrik lindbergh , a swedish business magnate whose involvement in global industrialization spanned far wider than the european economy . the relationship took the world by surprise , miriam’s friends being far more involved in pop culture than an aged man . while she claims it was love , the world had already made up its mind on her motive — money .

the pair got married six months after they initially became involved , & desi was born a year after . her father , the product of the ‘ silent generation ‘ , was of the impression that children should be seen , not heard , an outdated idea that her mother was comfortable abiding by . desirée , by association , quickly became accustomed to the spotlight , the interest in the uncommon relationship between miriam & henrik only growing after the birth of their sole child . desi grew up a prop , a toy for her mother to dress up in matching outfits & parade on the global stage , before stepping behind closed doors & forgetting about the child entirely . this led to desi being raised almost exclusively by nannies , her mother more interested in savouring the last of her youth & her father too busy with his international duties . originally based in london , the family moved to new york when desirée was starting her schooling to be closer to the hustle & bustle of american life .

2017 : desirée is graduating high school a year early after having been sent to institut auf dem rosenberg , a swiss private school that prides itself on being highly exclusive∫ˆ highly expensive . the name was a selling point for her father , but more importantly she would be safe & out of the way on another continent while her parents bickered ceaselessly . desirée found herself to be nothing special at rosenberg , her identity having been formed on the idea that public exposure equated to popularity ; without the constant public eye while at school , desi found a freedom & lightness she hadn’t before experienced . she could be real , & have real friends , & not be putting on a fake smile to allude an air of comfort . most of all , she could get away from her spiteful mother , who , once desi hit puberty , saw her as a threat to her own beauty , success , & public popularity . being sent to private school was the best thing to happen to desi & her mother’s relationship .

after graduating , desirée moved back to new york city , moving back into the expansive upper east side apartment , & being sure to move into a room on the opposite side of the home from her parents . being thrust back into the spotlight , a ‘ homecoming ‘ of sorts that her mother capitalized on , desi fell into a depression . she feared leaving the ��house , she feared that people would only want to be her friend in order to access the family’s wealth ( a seed of an idea planted in her father at the age of twelve , when she was told there was to be no dating unless their family’s net worth was over 500 million ) . soon enough , though , desi made the choice to get in contact with her mother’s rival modeling agency , inquiring about the possibility about modeling . they , of course , welcomed the legacy with open arms ; her mother , however , decided that this deceipt would not be tolerated under her roof , & kicked desi out as soon as she’d heard . desi called her father crying , explaining the situation over the phone , who immediately created a separate bank account of her own for desi , secretly hidden away in an overseas bank to avoid her mother finding out . the account held far more than desirée needed , but it was her father who enabled her to get back on her feet , find her own home , & start a career for herself .

2020 : desirée hardly speaks to her mother , though they keep up the public illusion that they are as close as a mother - daughter duo can be . her father though , now 80 years old , was actually close with desi , the two catching up daily & him celebrating her accomplishments she believed were self - earned . in october , though , she received a phone call from her father’s attorney , mr. berger , who informed her that henrik was in the hospital in critical condition after a heart attack . she flew to stockholm , where her father had been taking care of business items , & realized that it was time to say her goodbyes . her father & her played chess , talked about her childhood , & reconciled on any old issues . he passed away three days after she’d arrived . seeming as if he’d been able to tell something horrible was coming , henrik had updated his will a matter of weeks before the heart attack , naming desiree as the sole inheritor of all his assets & belongings . except , of course , her mother , who inherited a whopping five dollars from her husband . this was , mr . berger explained to desi , so that miriam could not claim that she had accidentally been left out , & was entitled to more of his estate .

if this wasn’t enough , the press soon released that interntional business mogul henrik lindbergh had passed away , & the companies he owned were now owned by a twenty one year old model who had never truly worked one day in her life . to make matters worse , her mother quickly played the victim , launching a multitude of lawsuits against her own daughter for defamation & coercing her father to leave her mother out of it . berger quickly chose desirée’s side , though he couldn’t become her personal attorney out of conflict of interest with the executing of the will . as the accounts lie in limbo during the legal battle , desi is relying solely on the secret account her father made her in switzerland ; if her mother knew , she would try to go after it , as well .

2021 : desirée has layed low over the last few months , her mother continuing her public display of heartache as the widow . desi can be said to be two - faced due to her sweet disposition one day & her cold attitude the next . in reality , she is normally kind & thoughtful , giving the benefit of the doubt to those two wrong her , but lately she has become more withdrawn , secretive , & volatile . she was recently photographed in a restaurant , crying on the phone with her head in her hand , something she would never normally allow to happen . overall , though , she doesn't want to speak publicly about the legal battle because she considers it a delicate matter & wants to take the high road . because of this , she puts on a face that she's happy , has done her mourning , & intentionally does things to make it seem like life is normal , like making appearances at events about new york city & being spotted hanging out with friends . only a very small handful in her inner circle notice the immense stress she's under because she's good at managing it , & doesn't want to be pitied .

* . personality .

personality wise , she is quite bubbly , thoughtful , dependable , observant , calm , & chooses her words carefully . on the other hand , she can be very hot & cold , self - isolating , two - faced , & tells blatant lies when she ought not to , & denies vehemently when others call her on her bs . she’s the type to remember someone saying they like something , in passing , then suddenly she shows up with that exact thing when she sees them next . her love language is definitely gifts & acts of service . considers herself a good advice giver but won’t take any advice others give her . kind of an air head , in that she can get so wrapped up in her own world that she forgets that others aren’t just npc’s in her life sfjklsd . can get overwhelmed easily , & retracts back into herself & isolates in her apartment for days on end , pampering herself with huge shopping sprees , overpriced face masks , & too much champagne . her way to deal with problems is to pretend they’re not there until eventually they go away 🤡

the world knows the bulk of the lindbergh - montenegro affair , as its known in the media , thanks to her mother taking interviews left & right to allude to her being snubbed by her own daughter . desi pretends that it does not bother her , that justice will be served & that legality will prevail over her mother’s cries , but the weight of the affair is taking a toll on her .

* . wanted plots .

click here for sideblog with wanted plots !

best friend / ride or die : someone desi’s been friends with for YEARS , knows all her family’s bs , prob has called her mother a b*tch to her face dflkjsdkl . literally the nicole to her paris , the lorelai to her rory .

squad : a group of friends who go clubbing every saturday & get brunch & gossip the next morning , have shady nicknames in their gc , have designated ‘ roles ’ in the friend group ( mom friend , the cr*ckhead , the wingperson , etc . ) , go on trips together , have the wildest birthday parties , etc . please !!

first love : this would’ve been in their teens , a summer fling that she fell hard for & who her father didn’t approve of bc he’s business - minded first . they tried to do long distance when she went back to school in the fall , but it didn’t work out & now they’re either on good terms & have sweet memories of that time , or one is still kinda salty how things ended .

bad influence : encourages desi to get the stick out of her *ss , & when she hangs out with them , they tend to go overboard on whatever the entertainment of the night may be .

friends to lovers / slow - burn romance : they’re friends first , but there’s been undeniable romantic tension between the two of them ( imagine pope towards kiara in obx ) , & their friends can pick up on it . they’ve never acted on it , worried of ruining the friendship , but they’re always a lil disappointed when the other goes home with or gets involved with someone else , but are ultimately there to pick up the pieces afterwards .

enemies / mutual dislike : maybe someone whose family her father screwed in business , their parents could have been friends before desi’s mom turned on them somehow , they think desi thinks she’s queen of the world , etc . let’s plan it out hehe

cheating : oop ! i love the angst , so gimme someone who either a ) cheated on desi , or b ) they think she cheated on them due to some tabloid article , rumor around town she was seen with someone , etc . their relationship was prob rocky as fuck , toxic , & lacked trust & communication . just a total shit show tbh .

that’s all i can think of now dskljfkl please feel free to reach out over tumblr msgs or on discord !

#wealthyhq:intro #excited 2 be here 🖤

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withabackpackandcamera · 3 years

Photo

July 5th, 2021

Day 10: Meeting Up With A Friend Before A Sprint To The Finish Line

This morning, because my parents had an earlier flight home than we did, we woke up to drop them off at the airport before coming back home to finish some last minute laundry, packing, and cleaning up. The only real thing on our last day’s schedule was a meet-up with Kristin Julia Erlingsdottir (pronounced “Christine” in Iceland), a pediatric resident in Iceland who I met 4.5 years ago when we were both medical students doing rotations at Landspitali. Even though we didn’t rotate together at Landspitali, we met each other in the cafeteria through other students who went to school in Slovakia with Kristin and since then, we have kept in touch via Instagram. So the plan this morning was to grab a quick breakfast with Kristin before flying home.

Because Minh didn’t want to join for breakfast, he ended up doing his own thing for an hour or two while Cynthia and I went out to meet with Kristin at a cafe nearby. Along the way to the cafe, because we wanted to load up on yummy pastries to take home from Sandholt, I dropped Cynthia off to buy them while I went on ahead to Grai Kotturinn, a cafe down the street, to meet with Kristin first. But before I left, we learned that Sandholt wasn’t selling any almond croissants today. So sad. But I did get a chance to take a look at and pick out the pastries I was interested in trying, with Cynthia eventually settling for a cranberry scone, two cinnamon rolls, a brown sugar roll with cream cheese, and a pain au raisin. That’ll probably do the trick.

So after I left Cynthia, I walked over to Grai Kotturinn, a cafe that Kristin had suggested nearby, to meet up with her after her night shift at the hospital. I was very grateful to Kristin for making time to meet up with us despite her busy residency schedule, and I was glad that I could actually fit her into my tight schedule as well. Anyhow, once I approached the cafe, I recognized her standing outside in her stylish all-black outfit and greeted her. It was so nice to see her again after all these years, even though we weren’t best buds but just quick friends from a brief time together.

Because there was a line at Grai Kotturinn, we stood outside for a bit and started catching up about our individual lives in medicine in our respective countries while waiting for Cynthia to join up. Before long, Cynthia had arrived but the line hadn’t really budged. Because of how tight we were on time and how I didn’t want to make Kristin take too much time out of her morning waiting in line for food, we pivoted and changed course with regards to where to eat. Because both Grai Kotturinn and Sandholt had waits due to the recent influx of tourists, Kristin suggested that we drive over to a spot further from downtown called Kaffihús Vesturbæjar to skip the lines. We agreed, and she drove us over to Kaffihús Vesturbæjar for breakfast.

We arrived at Kaffihús Vesturbæjar pretty early so their lunch menu wasn’t yet available. So, despite all the great suggestions that Kristin had on food options, we ended up having to choose some breakfast items from their simple breakfast menu, with me and Cynthia ordering a ham and cheese croissant to go with our pain au raisin we bought from Sandholt earlier. The cafe meet-up wasn’t really about eating so much as it was about finding a comfy place to catch up and share stories. And even though the food at Kaffihús Vesturbæjar was OK, the cafe was the perfect place to sit and chat for a little less than two hours. And Cynthia and I had a terrific time chatting with Kristin and learning more about her life before and during residency (like how she grew up briefly in Oklahoma, how she was sort of out of place as a returning Icelander once she was back in Reykjavik, about her doctor boo, how her pediatric residency has been, and about traveling, education, Icelanders, real estate, tourism). We also enjoyed sharing our stories with her too and I could tell that she really enjoyed the company. It was really great to find yet another opportunity to catch up with a local friend. Trips are always so much better when you can do something like that. Thank you again Kristin for making time after a busy night shift to meet up with us!

Before we knew it, we were running tight on time because of how much fun we were having with Kristin at Kaffihús Vesturbæjar . Luckily, we saved some time when Kristin offered to drop us off at home. Once we were home, we thanked her and said our goodbyes. With Minh already home and relatively ready to go, Cynthia and I quickly finished packing our stuff before loading all of it into the car. After one last sweep of the flat, we left for one more quick visit to downtown for last minute souvenirs. Cynthia and I ran through downtown looking for things we thought we might want to buy but eventually decided not to buy anything at all. So we hurried back to the car where Minh was waiting and headed for the airport. It was nice to get a last jog in through Reykjavik before flying out!

Once we were close to the airport, we made a pit stop at the grocery store where we had previously stopped on the first day to buy some chocolates for friends. Then we stopped by Subway to buy some subs for the long trip home before driving to Blue Car Rental to drop off our rental. Funny enough, we ran into Will and Mary again at Blue Car Rental and shared stories about our respective trips while walking over together to the departures terminal. Once we were in line (it was a very long check-in line at Icelandair because of all the Americans heading home after the long weekend), we had this awkward “see-you-every-few-minutes” situation with Will and Mary because of where we were positioned relative to them in line. So we didn’t get to catch up much after that. After chowing down on our food and getting through the line, security, and passport control, we finally made it to our gate, where we waited longer than expected to finally board our long flight home.

Iceland, it was great seeing you again. And it was great finally introducing you to my parents and Cynthia. I’m not sure when I’ll get to see you, your beautiful landscapes, and your nice people again but when the time comes, I’ll be excited to come back for my fourth visit. Till then! Takk takk!

5 Things I Learned/Observed Today:

1. It takes a lot of years to finish a pediatric residency in Iceland. Per Kristin, you can only do two years of training in Iceland (after one required internship year) before having to apply to pediatric programs outside of the country to complete your five years of pediatrics training (six years including the one internship year). The reason why pediatrics residents have to leave Iceland for their last three years is because the program is small and because the hospitals in Iceland see such small volumes of kids that residents don’t get enough exposure to be properly trained. Therefore, they have to get more exposure in other countries in other programs. For example, most people, if good enough, will go to Sweden to continue their training or they can go to a different Nordic country. Surprisingly, the Iceland peds program has a partnership with a Connecticut pediatrics program and they send one or two students a year there.

2. In the Icelandic pediatric program, when you’re working nights, as Kristin was doing, you work the pediatric wards as well as the NICU (there is no PICU at Landspitali). Luckily, the ED has their own resident so they don’t have to cover that at the same time. Very fortunate.

3. Interestingly enough, pediatric illness in Iceland came about very late this year as a result of the COVID pandemic and restrictions that came with it. For example, from what Kristin saw, RSV cases peaked in June instead of way earlier in the year in winter. And they had zero cases of the flu (though I’m not sure if that was just among kids or among both kids and adults). And pediatric gastroenteritis was only starting to appear in early July, which is a bit delayed as well. I’m sure public health and epidemiology data from this COVID period will be fascinating to look back at and study in every country.

4. Here in Iceland, people are primarily vaccinated with AstraZeneca, Pfizer, and Janssen vaccines. And unlike the case in America, most people in Iceland are itching to get their vaccinations and are ready to run up when their name is randomly drawn. Additionally, it sounds like Icelanders have vaccine envy of others. That’s crazy and so good! And the great thing about all of this is that around 80% of the country is at least partially vaccinated against COVID, which is the best percentage among all EU related countries. Good for you, Iceland! Keep up the great work!

5. At this time in Iceland, the government is pushing Icelanders to buy homes instead of renting. To incentivize people to buy, banks and other financial institutions are offering ridiculously low interest rates for home loans with rates at a historic low. And people have been able to borrow significant amounts of money for their home. For example, Kristin was able to get a loan with a really low interest rate that covers 95% of the cost of the home. Her flat is a 2-bedroom apartment located in downtown Reykjavik (close to where Sveinn lives). Cost: 53 million Icelandic krona (around $420k). That’s insane! Especially compared to the hellish housing market in Los Angeles. I wish it was that cheap in Los Angeles...

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hournites · 4 years

Text

Maxed Out

Hournite semi-smut fic? Yeah. Okay.

Summary: Beth asks Rick to turn over his hourglass in bed. Calamity ensues.

~.~

Beth trailed her fingers over Rick’s chest, unbuttoning his breezy summer shirt. His muscles were more defined than the last time she did this. She didn’t need Chuck to notice the build he’d put on over the last few weeks during training. Beth wasn’t complaining.

He tilted his head back, watching her as he settled against her yellow decorative pillows. “You act as if you’ve never undressed me before.”

Beth met his gaze with a shy smile. “Every time is still exciting,” she admitted.

Beth had no reason to be embarrassed. She loved the slow stripping tease of removing all his layers to get to her boyfriend’s skin. Besides, if it didn’t feel that way, should she even be doing it?

Rick chuckled and kissed her, chaste for their compromised position. The dark hum of the dim lamp in the corner, the way the bed creaked under their weight when she leaned down to continue making out. They were sounds Beth grew familiar with, in bed with her boyfriend. Rick lifted his head to remove the hourglass around his neck. Beth stopped him abruptly, her hand over his.

“Have you ever wondered…” she trailed off. He frowned.

“Have I ever wondered what?”

Beth flushed, looking aside to stare at her old wallpaper. There used to be butterfly decals, but she decided she outgrew them suddenly last summer and peeled them all off. She sort of missed them now. One was never too old for butterflies.

“Beth?” He brushed her thigh, breaking her out that thought bubble.

“Hmm?”

She bit her thumb, eyes darkening when she took him in again, loose, pliant, ready to have her whichever way she wanted. Oh right.

Perhaps any way, really.

She let it out all in one breath. “Do you ever think about flipping this over when you're with me?”

His silence was terrible. Beth withdrew her hand. She was still straddled over his lap but this was awkward now, she should get off him.

“...Yes.”

Beth sucked in a whole lot of air and just sort of kept it in until her lungs were on fire. Sure, she asked but she wasn’t prepared for his answer.

His hands went to her hips. “I’ve thought of it a lot.”

Beth shifted a bit. “You’ve never brought it up.”

He gave her a knowing look. “Because it’s a terrible idea? A really really terrible idea.” Though by how torn he looked and sounded, it didn’t seem like he meant that at all.

“We haven’t trained since Saturday,” she reminded him. She kissed him again, slow, teasingly, breaking away right when he wanted more. “We don’t have anything JSA to do until next week.”

“I know,” Rick groaned, tightening his grip. “God, I know. I want to.”

A slow smile spread over Beth’s face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said. He started to laugh softly when she played with the chain around his neck, like he couldn’t believe they were seriously entertaining the thought. “Beth. Beth, sweetheart. We really shouldn’t.”

Beth knew that. Every logical part of her brain knew that. It didn’t stop her from wanting to.

She flexed, placing her soft hands on his chest to hover over him as his eyes went wide and dark, taking her in. She was still in her shorts and shirt, but really those should come off soon too. Beth was in a really interesting type of mood. A Rick Tyler mood. Only with him did she ever feel this way.

“I say we should.”

The sentence came out breathlessly. She’s already feeling the zing of anticipation.

God, she wanted it. She wanted the hour of his unlimited strength. She wanted to see him pick her up effortlessly, she wanted him to pin her somewhere, hold her up without breaking a sweat. She wanted the way his ego boosted when he was powered up. She loved Rick with all her heart, but right now she was dying for the touch of Hourman.

The kiss she gave to enunciate her bold claim had Rick gripping onto the back of her neck, groaning. Beth leaned back again before they got too involved, toying with the hem of her shirt as Rick, weak and dishevelled, cursed under his breath. She liked it when he did that. Not the swear words exactly but the fact she made him utter them.

“What would you want me to do?”

“So that’s a yes?!”

“I didn’t say that,” he warned, chuckling at her eager impatience. She grabbed his hourglass again. Rick covered her hand over it. Beth wasn’t going to turn it without his permission, it wasn’t her object and it wasn’t her decision. But she couldn’t seem to put her hand anywhere else at the moment. And she desperately hoped she could get him to join her on the dark side.

“I’m just curious. What do you want, Beth?"

Beth’s eyes slid over to the wall again.

Rick followed her gaze. His jaw dropped. “You want— there?”

Beth nodded, flushing.

Rick flipped the glass over without hesitation. “You should’ve said that before.”

~.~

Rick pulled Beth flush against his chest. He cocked an eyebrow, hiking her higher up so she could wrap her legs around his hip. “You like this?” he teased, nipping at her ear. “You’re fucking beautiful, Beth.”

She whimpered, arching her back against her missing butterfly decals, aching for Rick to stop running his mouth and just do what she’d been pleading him for.

“You’re so light,” he whispered, picking her up again to carry her around the room just because he can.

“You’re so strong,” she marvelled. “Don’t break any of my furniture!” It would be impossible to explain to her father. He’d been away on a business trip for a few days now, but no matter how long he was on the road, she knew there’d be no way she could hide a broken chair or bed from him.

Rick huffed, rolling his eyes before slamming her back against the wall just to prove that he won’t. Her pictures of Courtney and Yolanda on her wall shook in their frames, but she could tell he was using only a fraction of his strength, or else they would’ve shattered.

“We’ve got fifty-five minutes.” His voice was low and sexy, a rumble deep in his throat that she could feel the vibrations of as he mouthed at her jaw and neck. She whimpered again, mind racing, trying to catalogue his every word, every touch, every move for, well—scientific research—intellectual curiosity—a very important personal project for Beth. He slipped his other hand behind her back and under her shirt to unclasp her bra. “I’m not wasting a second of it.”

“Then don’t.” She wanted Rick so badly she could hardly breathe. “I want you in me.”

Rick paused to look at her, taken aback. Her eyes widened and her pulse skyrocketed, worried she went too far. She never was one to talk like that but neither was he. What if he didn’t want to do this anymore? What if he was having second thoughts? But Rick didn’t give her the opportunity to panic any further, pulling her leg back up when it slipped from his waist. His grip was unshakable, steady, relaxed even like he knew exactly what he was doing, and that unreadable expression morphed into a smirk.

“How much do you like this top?”

“I— What?”

“Let me rephrase that,” he murmured. His fingers wandered up the black buttons of her simple floral shirt, unbuttoning one to access the dark valley hiding underneath. “How much would you mind if this is the last time you could wear this?”

Oh. He wanted to rip it off her. Everything Beth could ever feel for Rick liquified southward in slow, syrupy pulses. She squirmed against him, suffering. Her boyfriend destroying her inventory from Forever 21 really shouldn’t be so hot.

“Not very much,” she managed out and the sound of the fabric tearing echoed in the quiet room immediately after, the cool exposure and Rick’s warm palms handling the new expansion of skin drove Beth insane. “Not my bra! Bras are expensive.”

The kiss he gave in reply was filthy, but he listened and he raised her up again so she could shimmy out of it, letting it drop to the floor.

Another hard press that made her bookshelf shake beside them had Beth reeling, begging for more. She clung to his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, already overheated. And this was just the beginning. Beth knocked her head back against the wall when his hand snaked up past her thigh, tugging at the waistband of her shorts, knowing she was doomed. She was wet and shaking and so ready.

“Rick,” she begged with a gasping breath, unable to wait any longer. “Please .”

“I got you…” he promised, voice deep and rasped. He kissed her again. “I love you.”

This was Beth’s smartest idea yet.

~.~

Courtney leaned against her staff, taking in the damage. Trees upon trees upon trees fallen over themselves. It would take forever to climb through it.

Yolanda jumped over the first dead trunk on all fours. “It looks like Grundy had a temper tantrum.”

Beth listened, folding her arms over her chest. This mission took them all by surprise. It had been days, weeks even since they had to suit up. ISA went quiet. There hadn’t been any danger in quite some time. This was worrying. She leaned into Rick’s side. Her mind flitted away from the forest or the potential lair hidden behind all the forestial destruction. Last night took up every spare thought.

They were good together. They were always good together. But last night was something out of her locked up compartment of fantasies. The way he held her, the way he looked at her. Rick was gentle and sweet and considerate with his touch on her when they made love, and Beth adored him for it. But making love was not what happened yesterday during that hour.

Rick fucked her.

They fucked until the sand timed out, her legs wobbled, knees buckling after he put her down and every lucid thought in her brain fizzled out like smoke. He carried her to bed, and brushed the sweat from her forehead, whispering praises in her ear, telling her how much he loved her. Making sure he never hurt her, letting her curl against him until the world stopped spinning and she could gain her breath again. Even now, she could only think of Rick. The way he made her feel. The way he moaned out her name. He was strong and exuberantly confident with himself in a weird way Beth could never grow tired of. That hourglass was magical.

She shook her head, tilting her head to tune into the debate in front of her. JSA was important. This was important, Beth knew that. She tried to tell herself this.

It was kind of hopeless. Really, she wanted to drag Rick by the hand right out of this forest and go back home to bed.

“Beth?” Pat asked. “Why don’t you ask Chuck if this is worth the effort. Maybe there was just a wind storm and we missed it.”

“But that cryptic note,” Courtney said. “There’s no way that’s not something.”

Rick was awfully silent. Beth tugged on his sleeve and looked up to check if he was alright. He met her gaze and his eyes went soft with a hint of heat.

I want to get out of here too, he didn’t have to say.

It was especially bad with that hourglass around his neck right now. Just sitting there. Taunting her. A teasing visual memory of last night. Rick looked down at what she was staring at. A red blotch crept up behind the mask on his face.

She relished not being the only one of the two of them disastrously turned on.

“Beth? Beth???”

She snapped her eyes to the team and mumbled a quick apology. Right. They wanted her to use Chuck to see if there was anything worthwhile behind those trees. She tapped on her goggles, picking the right setting. Not X-Ray or Night Vision. Maybe infrared.

She squinted at the looming box figure in her magnified sight. “What do you think that is Chuck? A hideout? There’s only one story. It looks like it’s centred by an underground basement.”

“Gee. An underground hideaway. Never heard that before.” Pat shared an annoyed look with the JSA.

"You’re quite right, Beth. It seems there are several heat signatures underneath the roots of the decayed birch trees and foliage. My guess is an underground hanger, an off branch location perhaps for the regrouping of the ISA."

They all groaned.

“Thanks, Chuck.”

“So we have to get there.”

“That’s gonna take all day,” Courtney groaned. Her staff complained too, lifting her off the ground to survey the distance from the start of the forest to the nearest clearing. “Yeah, it goes on for miles. Maybe we could fly over with the Staff and STRIPE.”

“A big robot and you in the sky? Pretty sure they’ll see that, Court.”

“Yeah, we need to do recon from the ground.”

They all turned to Rick.

“What?” he snapped at their stares.

“How do you feel about being a lumberjack?” Yolanda asked. “Throwing away all the trees?”

Rick tensed, and so did Beth.

“That’s stupid,” he said. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Why not?” Courtney frowned.

“Uh.” He shared a panicky look with Beth, who stared at him back, stumped. “I pulled a muscle. Don’t want to.”

That’s what he came up with!?

“You know what,” Beth said hastily, putting a hand on his arm, “Rick’s not feeling well.” She flashed a grin at her friends. “Let’s do this another day, I’ll take him home—Bye!”

Courtney flew over on her staff, blocking their way when they turned around to leave. She crossed her arms over her crop top.

“Rick always said he doesn’t feel that kind of stuff when the hourglass is turned over because of his adrenaline rush.”

“Um. Well, now I do.” He continued to walk away.

Chuck went silent in her ear. Like he knew exactly what was going on but didn’t want to comment. And thank god, for that. Beth’s palms broke out into a sweat under her gloves. This was so embarrassing, she thought she might pass out.

What was she going to say? Heyyyyy guys! Actually, we can’t do any type of heavy lifting today, nope! Oh? Why, you ask? No big deal really, my boyfriend just decided to use his superpower to do dirty, dirty things to me while I screamed into his shoulder ha ha ha funny, right!?

Heat flared up to her face, Beth couldn’t make eye contact with anyone. She put one of her gloved hands over her cheek and kept her gaze on the weird twigs on the ground. She needed water. She needed a bath of ice. Where was Icicle Jr when she needed him? Getting blasted with frost would be better than this.

“Rick,” Pat snapped. “Stop fooling around. Turn the hourglass. Now.”

“No,” he said stubbornly, batting away Yolanda’s swat at his glass.

“Why are you being so weird?” Yolanda hissed. “You think you’re the only one with things to do? My brother has a piano recital in a few hours. We all want to go back home.”

She glared at Beth like she was mad at her for not talking sense into Rick herself. Like it was a chore to be the one that had to do it. “Beth, c’mon, what’s wrong with you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with us!” Beth said, hearing the way her voice pitched an octave higher than it was supposed to.

“Rick. Turn the glass over!” Pat said, increasing the volume of his voice modifier for extra emphasis—not really extra menace, he couldn’t scare them anymore. Not that he didn’t try.

“I can’t,” Rick gritted out through his teeth. He ran a hand through his hair, even more flustered than before.

Beth covered her ears, starting to hyperventilate as they all began to argue. This was her fault. This was her fault!

She pestered Rick into using his strength and now they couldn’t do their jobs and they were going to end up revealing their sex lives in explicit detail in front of Courtney’s dad. She whined, hiding her face into Rick’s suit, unable to bear her mortification.

His hands wrapped around her tight, which was her briefest solace of this embarrassing nightmare.

Yolanda stared at them, narrowing her eyes. She jumped off one of the trees and circled the couple to Rick’s chagrin, who was now staring up at the sky, looking extremely uncomfortable. Beth closed her eyes and nuzzled her head further against his chest. She wasn’t even horny anymore.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Courtney echoed, tilting her head to the side. “We haven’t had a JSA mission in like, forever so—“

“I can’t!” Rick nudged Beth to the side so he could flip over his hourglass to show them. Beth watched as it did nothing. The sand just stayed there in the top half like a fixed, broken toy. “I told you, I can’t!”

Yolanda gasped, finally putting two and two together. “Beth Chapel, you didn’t!”

“We did!” Beth admitted miserably against Rick.

“What?” Courtney was unable to follow along. She whipped her head at Yolanda. “What did they do??”

Yolanda began to laugh. She covered her mouth and turned around, walking away to lean against a spared tree. “Don’t make me tell them, because I won’t.”

The hiss and metallic clanging of the STRIPE head unlocking echoed through the forest. Pat’s seat raised. He looked between the two with his brows furrowed. Suddenly, understanding dawned in his eyes. He swore under his breath as his face twisted in a complicated combination of shock, horror and disgust. “You’ve gotta be kidding me, Rick!”

Rick stiffened his jaw. “If we were kidding do you really think we’d be having this conversation?”

“What conversation!?” Courtney shrieked.

“We’re sorry!”

“Sorry about what!?!” Courtney tugged at her hair, stressed out, looking at the JSA for answers. “Pat?!! They’re sorry about what?”

“Not now, Court—” Pat warned. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it."

“Ugh!” Courtney landed on the cracked ground and stomped off to sulk with her staff. "This is now how teamwork works!"

Yolanda lifted an eyebrow, shrugging as she cleaned some leaves from her claws. She sat at the base of a standing trunk, knees pulled up to her chest as though she knew they weren't going anywhere for a while. “I mean, was it at least good?” she asked with a tiny wicked smirk after a stretch of awkward silence.

“Yes,” Beth mumbled hotly. Her cheeks burned.

Pat glared down at them from his towering height in STRIPE, the ultimate patented look of parental disappointment etched upon his face.

“Are you two out of your minds?!” he yelled, trying to guilt-trip them further into the valley of shame Beth decided she now permanently lived in. “You could’ve risked your lives—What if we were ambushed right now? You’re a man with no hour—You could've died!”

Yolanda snorted from off to the side and even Beth had to bit her lip to keep in a smile at how silly that sounded.

“—What on earth did you think you were doing?”

“Uh,” Rick looked down at Beth. She looked up. They shared a funny look, an almost laugh. His eyes lit up when their eyes met and she let out a giggle. “....Having really good sex?”

Pat grimaced, regretting that he asked.

Courtney’s head shot up. “You used the hourglass to have sex?”

Beth smacked his shoulder. “Rick!”

Rick smirked, far too pleased with himself for their situation right now. “Look, we learned our lesson. We’re not doing it again.”

“You’re damn right, you aren’t!”

Courtney couldn’t stop staring at Beth, utterly baffled. “How would you even—Why would you want to do that?”

Beth opened her mouth to reply, but Pat held up a robot hand, stopping them from continuing.

“Nevermind that,” he said pointedly. “Court, let’s go home. We’ll reconvene tomorrow.”

Yolanda dusted the dirt and soil from her suit silently to follow Court and the stomping robot back down the trail.

“I have nothing to say to you Richard,” she sniffed, then gave Beth a fist bump, leaning to say something in her ear. “We’ll talk later.”

Beth looked at Wildcat, wide-eyed and gulped. “...Okay."

And then they were alone.

“So…” Beth said after a moment of them standing there in the bushes like two idiotic teens who just screwed up a very important superhero mission because of their screwing. She looked at one of the silver maple trunks that looked securely fixed upon the others and hopped on top of it, sitting down. She took her gloves off and stuffed them in one of her many Dr. Mid-Nite pockets. “That was the most embarrassing moment of my life.”

“Yep.” Rick put his hands on the back of his head, elbows out as he began to pace, walking the distance between the only two trees left standing. His cape rustled against the dead leaves. A black squirrel stared at them from a foot away. Beth didn’t blame him, they looked like quite a sight.

Her goggles came back to life.

"Lack of judgment happens to the best of enhanced and metahumans in their first few years in the field, Beth. Do not beat yourselves up so hard. Rick is young and impulsive, and you have a curious mind. Perhaps this learning experience served to put your wonderings at ease."

“Thanks, Chuck,” she said softly, but somehow his words were not as comforting as they usually were. “But it wasn’t Rick's impulse. It was my fault. I knew we shouldn’t have. Rick was the one that told me not to.”

“You make it sound like it wasn’t me who turned it over.”

Beth shrugged. “You wouldn’t have if I hadn’t brought it up.”

Rick threw his head back and laughed. The squirrel startled, scurrying away.

“What?”

He walked over and held her chin, stroking her cheek with his covered thumb. “You underestimate how much I think about having my way with you.”

Beth’s heart stuttered in her chest. She blinked up at him from beneath her eyelashes. “Do I?”

Rick’s boyish smirk shined through the Hourman mask. “You really liked it, huh?”

She nodded. “I really did.”

He pressed his lips against hers and she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing back hungrily, knocking his hood off his head so she could reach up and fist his hair. She’d been wanting to do this ever since he put his stupid glass back around his neck after school. She leaned back against the logs, and Rick climbed over her, pulling off her mask so he could kiss the skin of her neck.

"While this is all well and good, Beth, need I remind you there is an unconfirmed ISA base, not even an acre away, and you have removed integral pieces of your costumes crucial to conceal your identities?"

Beth pushed Rick away to yank off her goggles from their perch on her head, blushing madly. “Chuck!”

Rick ran a hand over his face and groaned, stepping away. “He’s right,” he said and pulled up his hood. “The damn computer’s right.” He reached onto the ground where Beth’s mask fell and tugged it over her hair and face. “We can’t afford two JSA screw-ups in one day. Pat would kill us.”

It was true. They had to stop now before things spiralled and they ended up captured by new ISA members in the middle of Samuel McKelvie, Nebraska.

“No more hourglass in bed,” Rick told her sternly, giving her a hand to haul her up from the trees.

Beth let out a sad sigh. “No more hourglass in bed.”

She grabbed Chuck and repositioned him over her eyes, then reached back to hold Rick’s hand again. They walked through the forest back where they came, listening to Chuck’s directions when they got lost a few times. The walk back was nice, relaxing. Beth felt the tension leak from her shoulders, content to simply chat and walk around with Rick.

So they’d had their moment of wild times and reckless behaviour, and as much as she enjoyed it, Beth loved soft, quiet moments with her boyfriend too. Cuddling together after missions, going out for movies and drives, being gentle and sweet when they’re intimate without worrying about breaking anything...

Now she knew, both were possible, whenever they wanted it. Just without the help of magical strength-inducing hourglasses to boost stamina along the way.

She still kind of wanted it, though. She peeked up at him with a new idea.

“Rick…?”

“Yeah?”

“If a mission ever ends early with time still left over…”

Rick stopped in his tracks.

Beth continued walking, only turning her head over her shoulder to pull Chuck off her face and wink at her dumbstruck boyfriend.

“...Then I wouldn’t say no to that.”

#stargirl #hournite #hournites fic #Beth Chapel #Rick Tyler #smut

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