#he's neat and a sweet bun I must protect

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.12

Queen of New Asgard

12/02/2020

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 9,737

Warnings: fluff, cute babies, talks of pregnancy, angst, Avengers shenanigans, talks of sex

A/N: So this one is a bit longer than the rest, I really wanted to make sure that this one was a lengthy treat. I didn’t want to split the chapter into two between getting to the Avengers and then actually meeting them and spending tie with them. I wanted to keep it together. I hope you all like it! I had a lot of fun with it, and mostly, I just really love Thor. I want him for myself. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on other sites or blogs!

REBLOGS are always welcome!

To say you’re a mess would be an understatement.

At least having Thor by your side gives you a small sense of stability, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re about to meet the Avengers.

Earth’s mightiest heroes.

People so famous that everyone knows their name. Even people in remote parts of the world know they exist.

The sensation of being pulled and gliding through the air in Thor’s arms as the Bifrost glow surrounds you both in your transport is nothing compared to the rolling of your stomach at the thought of saying or doing something stupid in front of Thor’s friends and comrades.

You hold him tighter, loving the way he feels in full armor. Only because it really drives home the fact that he could protect you from anything as opposed to being comfortable.

You’re dressed more simply though not at all casual. The outfit you’re wearing was shoved into your bag with two others in case of official events that might crop up during your honeymoon.

Because dinner with Thor’s teammates is supposed to be a relaxed event, you chose the most unimpressive of the three.

The bodice consists of a one-piece made of leather. Armor would be more accurate in describing it. Though bits of it have been dyed a dark yet also soft gray-purple, others, like the right breast piece and the strip that wraps down around your left side are a natural brown. Textured with a ridged design to compliment the thinner more boned design of the gray-purple section.

Around your waist and laced at the back is another a-symmetrical piece of that natural brown leather, but along the base of it is sewn a long flowing skirt made of a cotton voile base in navy and a sheer silk light blue making the effect of it together like shifting water.

The skirt is left open slightly on the right. If anyone pays really close attention, they’ll see the top of your thigh in the sway. Generally, the dress is appropriate and since this will technically be your first public outing with Thor, it was important you look the part.

Neither of you is wearing a crown. Not necessary really, if it isn’t an official ceremony or event, but you are wearing the large golden pin that Thor had made for you to put on the left breast of your sleeveless gown.

It’s the same interlaced arches that are on your swords with a crown that looks just like your wedding crown at the center where the arches connect.

It shines bright, brand new as it is, and is a symbol of your new status in the world.

A human Queen of Asgard.

It’s safe to say that your name is known from one corner of the Earth to the other which you only just realized when you were doing some research on the time it takes for a body to decompose in a demi-damp environment occasionally exposed to heat. You’d stumbled across a tabloid page with the headline How the New Queen of Asgard Bewitched the God of Thunder.

You hadn’t bothered to read the article because it was clear exactly what kind of reporting they were doing from the picture of you, which someone had pulled from the website of your old school, sitting on Thor’s chest with a photoshopped smirk and glowing red eyes.

There were a few others you read, most of them nice and from official news sources. All of them detailing your tragic childhood and your ascension to wealth. Then your birth ancestry was exposed making you a top candidate for Queen of the Asgardians and in one article for the New York Times, you recognized the pictures of your wedding as you and Thor stared at each other in all of your enamored glory.

Anyone with eyes can see that you love him and in those pictures, you can admit that it helps you feel a bit more secure in Thor’s love to see that he’s looking at you the exact same way. How can he look at you like that and not love you? Or at least be really fond of you?

As the air gets colder, mushy gray snow lining the streets below you, Thor’s body pulls up, preparing to stand as his speed slows.

You feel him step onto the pavement before you do, then slowly he lowers you, large hands so careful with you that you can’t help but look for his eye to see what he might be feeling.

His eyes are not on you though. They’re on the crowd that’s slowly begun to gather.

They’re giving you a wide berth, but they’re stopping to look, and some have pulled out their cell phones to take photos or record video.

You can hear whispers shift through the cold New York winter air, people leaning over to each other in excitement and curiosity. Much like the crowd back in New Asgard had when you’d driven by them to get to your dress fitting and the wedding parade.

You can’t really make out what they’re saying but Thor can, and he wraps his arm around your waist, turns you to face those that are nearest, and waves.

You follow his example and give them as kind a smile as you can, despite the sudden nerves eating at you.

Shit, do you have to say something? Are you expected to?

“Hello everyone. I know most of you have seen her in the papers and on the interwebs already, but this is my beautiful and lovely Queen. My wife, Y/N.” Thor declares, but even your name he caresses with the soft shift in his tone.

“Hello?” You don’t mean it to come out as a question, but it does.

Still, there are a few people that giggle at your reaction.

A sense of calm overcomes those watching, as if finally hearing you speak seems to have burst a bubble.

“Aw yew a pwincess?” A small hand tugs at your skirts and you turn to look down at an adorable little girl with smooth deep brown skin. Her hair is gathered in two small buns, tight braids keep it neat.

All you can really see are her big brown eyes, so wide and full of wonder.

You pull from Thor’s grasp and squat down to be on the toddler’s level. She can’t be more than three.

“She’s my Queen, little one.” Thor explains, squatting down beside you. “Queen of New Asgard. Isn’t she pretty?”

The little girl giggles and nods, then reaches up to touch your own hair which has also been braided, one long in the middle giving it a mohawk look, and several other small braids along the sides to keep it neat while flying.

At least that’s the bit that you remember from this morning.

Thor had pulled you out of bed at four o’clock, led you to a chair in the bathroom and then started messing with your hair. Of course, that sent you right back off to sleep but you remember asking him sleepily at some point why he was braiding your hair and he’d explained that it was to keep it from getting all messy while flying.

That’s the last thing you remember before he was suddenly kissing you awake and then your mind was busy with the delicious way he carried you back to bed and then heartbroken when he said you had only ten minutes more to sleep while he showered.

You’re so tired.

Smiling at the little girl, watching her own joy grow in her eyes gives you new energy and you take her hand and hold it in your two.

“It’s so lovely to meet you…?”

A woman hurries over from the crowd, voice frantic as she seems to have finally spotted her little escapee.

“RUBY!” The poor mother cries, hurrying to her daughter’s side.

“Ruby,” You repeat.

The little girl turns to look at her mother while you keep hold of her hand.

“Wook mama! A Ka-ween!” She giggles and her mother slows, hesitating now that she notices you and Thor.

“Holy shi-” Her mother says, “I’m so sorry.”

Hurrying forward, she takes hold of Ruby’s shoulders and pulls her close, not because she’s threatened by you two or anything. She must be shocked.

You let her hand go as it’s pulled gently, and Thor helps you stand back up. Once you’re standing, he reaches down to take hold of your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“It’s okay.” You shake your head, smiling at the woman as Ruby turns to hug her leg excitedly. “She’s very sweet.”

“She’s a troublemaker. That’s what she is.” The woman counters. “D-Do I have to curtsy or somethin’?”

“Not this time.” Thor tells her, “For having such an adorable child, we’ll give you the curtsy pass.”

He’s joking. Teasing the woman.

“Thor…” You nudge him and he chuckles, amused by you more than his joke. “What he means to say is, yes. Normally you would have to, but he knows I’m already nervous out of my mind so it’s okay.”

The woman looks around behind her, aware of the flashing camera phones and the videos they must be taking. So, she turns back to you and clumsily makes a curtsy.

Little Ruby sees her do it and then turns to you and does an even clumsier version of the same bow.

“Thank you.” You manage to say, voice almost completely deprived of volume from how nervous her attention makes you.

“Yes,” Thor agrees, suddenly serious. “Thank you. Both of you, for the warm New York welcome.”

“It was nothing.” The woman says, dipping down to pick up Ruby. “Say buh-bye, Ruby.”

As they walk away, Ruby twists in her mother’s arms to look over her shoulder at you and Thor and waves.

“Buh-bye!”

“Bye, Ruby.” You wave at her, smiling at her cuteness before you look up to meet Thor’s gaze.

“See, that wasn’t so terrible.” Thor gives you a squeeze. “Just our luck that it was an adorable child to greet you first.”

“She was so cute!” You gush, wishing you could take her home.

Maybe Thor sees the deep want in your own face because he leans in and presses his lips to your temple before resting them softly against your ear.

“Don’t worry, cherub. Soon we’ll have our own little one running around the palace.” He promises.

Even though he means it in an innocent way, the deep tone and intent in his voice is also very clear and if there weren’t a lot of people watching, you’d pull him down for a kiss.

He smirks down at you, almost like he knows that you picked up on that lusty vibe despite his words being sweet.

“You’re not playing fair.” You complain.

Thor chuckles then gives the crowd, which has grown quite a bit, another wave.

“Something to look forward to when we go home.” He reasons.

“Will we get to do everything you want with this crowd around us?” You give them a look and tuck yourself into Thor’s side a little more but wave all the same.

All these eyes on you. Watching you. Listening to every little thing you say?

“I’ll make it possible, cherub.” Thor assures you.

He twirls his hammer, a near replica of the one his sister destroyed before they arrived on Earth and takes a step towards the crowd with the look of someone about to make a speech.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you look at yourself, you still look like you. Still wearing the dress you’d pulled on in the morning. Braids still in place.

Thor is still in full uniform. Still holding his hammer. But as the two of you walk through the city, no one stops to look.

After you and Thor had ducked into that first shop—a bakery that had lured him in by the nose because apparently the breakfast you’d cooked him hadn’t been enough—and emerged freshly fed, none of the people who had stopped to watch you when you'd landed were looking at you as you passed them.

Some of them even looked right at you then away as if they didn’t recognize you.

“It’s magic.” Thor whispers in your ear.

He straightens up, watching you with an amused grin as understanding overcomes your face.

“A trick my mother taught me that Loki has helped me perfect. Would you like us to see what they do? Our clothes, I mean? We’ll still see each other.”

“Sure.” You nod, excited by the proximity of magic to yourself.

Thor gives you a nod. He twirls his hammer, held loose in his right hand and it turns into an umbrella.

His clothes are neat and somewhat formal. More of a business casual with dark pressed trousers, a thick black t-shirt made of a heavy and soft cotton blend. His jacket is coal gray, with just the slightest hint of brown.

You gasp lightly, stunned by the sight of him with two electric blue eyes. No sleek black and gold eyepatch. Just two pretty orbs that blink at the shock on your face.

“What, love?” He worries, reaching down to place his hand on your lower back as the two of you continue down the sidewalk.

“Your eyes.” You shake your head, speechless.

“Oh, yes. Well, it helps me blend in.”

His blonde hair is styled too, a smooth wave of the longer hair along the top of his head. Why is he so pretty?

Thor chuckles.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He teases, still looking forward.

“I’m staring,” You huff a laugh. “I’m sorry.”

But you give yourself a look and find yourself wearing a chic black pantsuit. More heavy cotton blend fabric from head to toe. It has that waterproof sheen though. Like if you spill something it’ll just roll off. Black long sleeve shirt with a higher than normal collar. It’s just a few inches short of being a turtleneck.

Over that you’re wearing a sleeveless wool trench coat with big black buttons and large pockets. The cut is feminine and left open since it’s cold but not too cold during the day with the sun streaming down.

It’ll be different tonight.

“We have these actual clothes waiting for us at the compound. I had them sent over when Stark told me that I’d be able to bring you for introductions. We can change in my room once we’re there, so we won’t be as constricted.” Thor takes your hand to his lips and gives it a kiss.

“You have a room at the compound? Isn’t it like a military base or something?” You wonder.

“Parts of it. There is a shooting range and a hangar with plenty of planes and jets. A pretty large garage with quite the selection of cars. Maybe we can go for a drive after dinner for some alone time?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, but you’re still trying to wrap your mind around bedrooms at the compound.

“Do some of the Avengers live on the compound?”

“Yes.” Thor nods, his attention pulled away from his suggestive expression. “Several of them do. Wanda lives there. Captain Rogers, Natasha, Vision, Samuel and Barnes live there now too. Stark has moved out to be with Pepper on some cabin they purchased together a year ago.

“Barton lives with his family, so he doesn’t stay at the compound. And of course, for me it has been a home away from home. The only other person that stays there but doesn’t live there permanently is Banner.

“After we arrived from our journey in space, he took to his lab and slept at the compound for nearly six months before he finally went home. He hasn’t come back to the compound since. Says he’s working on something, but he’s promised to be here for our dinner.” Thor assure you.

Sad to say that you can’t exactly be as excited as he is as the list of names, he just went through looms over you like a test you didn’t study for.

Suddenly he stops, and he waves over at another tall blonde man with storm blue eyes and what looks to be a full beard. His slightly outgrown blonde hair is pushed back, the tresses smooth and silky as he hurries towards you both, brown leather bomber jacket zipped shut over a pair of jeans.

“Oh, you’re dressed up.” He says, but you recognize him and as Thor stops, you find yourself gaping at Captain America. “Maybe I should have picked something nicer.”

“Not necessary. You and the rest of the team are friends.” He takes Captain America’s hand and shakes it before they both meet in a quick hug.

“It’s been too long.” Thor admits.

“Well, you’re a busy man now. King and all that.”

“H-How did you recognize us?” You stutter, focusing on the mystery before you instead of the fact that Captain America is standing right fucking there!

“I let him see us.” Thor explains. “The veil holds only for those I want to shield us from.”

“Oh.” You whisper, not intending to but you have no air in your lungs again.

Thor seems to read your frayed nerves because he reaches around to wrap his arm around your waist and offer you some support.

“Captain Rogers, this is my lovely and very nervous wife, Y/N Y/L/N. Queen of Asgard and if I’m honest, the love of my life.” Thor’s honest gushing, the way he sounds honest and so freaking sincere brings you back to yourself a little and with a squeeze from him, you relax.

“Steve, Thor. Please. I’m not Captain America anymore.” He says, almost as if it’s a reminder.

This confuses you because as far as you know, Steve Rogers is still Captain America.

“I read the e-mail.” Thor says, shaking his head. “I thought perhaps it was a joke.”

“Since when have I ever joked about something this serious?”

“I don’t know, I thought perhaps you might have-”

Steve Rogers turns to you, ignoring Thor for the moment as he holds his hand out and slowly you take it.

“I know I should probably bow, but we don’t want everyone knowing who I’m talking to so, is a handshake okay?”

“Of course!” You say breathlessly as he shakes your hand softly. His grip is firm, but you can tell he’s very aware of not hurting you.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” He begins, then leans in towards you and whispers, “Your Majesty.”

Both of you are left smiling while Thor’s eyes are narrowed at the two of you.

“How do you find married life? Has Thor gotten on your nerves yet?”

You can tell he’s joking because while he’s talking to you, he steals a quick side-eye at Thor to gauge his reaction.

“Not yet. But he does like to eat all of the bacon.” You whisper.

Steve makes a pained look, directing it at Thor, still holding your hand in that gentle handshake.

“That’s a big no-no.” Steve agrees.

“Right?” You press, enjoying the pout on Thor’s lips.

“Alright, Rogers, release my wife’s hand.” He reaches and takes your hand out of Steve’s forcefully, but you and Steve only chuckle.

Thor pulls your hand up against his chest and with his other arm still around your waist, he’s basically got you wrapped up in his arms.

“Come on, everyone’s waiting.” Steve laughs, moving towards a black luxury sedan.

Thor makes to move forward but you pull back, resisting because meeting Steve Rogers was already stressful enough.

Now you have to go meet the rest of them? Can’t you just call it quits now?

“Cherub?” Thor looks at you, the concern pouring from him so overwhelmingly sweet that you give in.

He wants this so badly. It’s so important to him. You’ll also have to do many things from here on out that will make you anxious and stressed.

Suck it up.

“I’m just nervous.” You tell him, as if he can’t already see it himself.

“Thor?” Steve calls from the driver’s side of the car. He’s got the door open, both arms resting against the top of the vehicle.

“A moment, Steve.” Thor says, and for some reason it gives Steve a curious look on his face.

It’s almost as if he’s not used to Thor calling him by his first name.

“You have nothing to be nervous about, my love. You’ve already met Rogers and he’s like one of those dogs with the long ears and the funny long howl when it comes to sensing when anything’s amiss. Clearly, he likes you. You’re perfection, Y/N. You have nothing to worry about.”

Thor’s gushing should make you feel better, and it does a little. But you’re about to meet so many people. All of them important to Thor. What if you say something that makes one of them angry? What if you and one of them—or all of them—just don’t mesh well?

“I just-I-I don’t want to, I don’t know, disappoint you?”

Thor’s face falls into complete adoration. His smile is soft but wide and so pleased. He takes a step towards you, reaching up with both hands to place them on the back of your head, just behind your ears.

“You’ve already made me so proud, cherub. You’re here, standing with your head held high, greeting the people of a foreign country with grace and kindness. You’ve made jokes with one of my closest comrades already. I have every faith that you will continue to outshine me.” He chuckles as you relax a little more. “Do you need a few minutes?”

You shake your head, reaching up to take hold of his wrists. “No.”

“Ready?”

“Yes,” you nod.

Thor slips his hands down, flicking them gently so that he can take hold of both your hands.

He pulls them to his lips and kisses them, never breaking eye contact.

He must lose concentration for his magic because as he kisses your knuckles, his two eyes turn into one as the eyepatch takes its place again.

His regular clothes turn back into his armor and your own dress shifts back into the more Asgardian appropriate attire.

“Uh, Thor?” Steve Rogers insists.

Thor looks at him and with a nod towards his body, Steve Rogers communicates the problem.

You look around and people are stopping their shopping and walking and going about their days to turn and look at the two Asgardian monarchs suddenly standing on the sidewalk in a sweet and affectionate embrace.

“Oops.” Thor smiles at them and gives them a wave while simultaneously taking hold of your hand.

You follow his lead and give them a regal wave and polite smile as he pulls you towards the car. Steve Rogers is already there, holding the back door open for you.

You get in and he shuts the door as Thor moves around to the other side and gets in too.

“You distracted me.” He accuses you, reaching around you to pinch your side.

You give a small scream of laughter then look at the watching crowd with a startled and embarrassed smile, but they’re pleased by the exchange. Some of them taking video and photos. Others just giggling and laughing along with you.

There are a few young women and men who even look envious. And honestly? Who wouldn’t?

You look and Thor and as he chuckles at your reaction to his teasing and the reaction of those watching as Steve Rogers pulls the car away from curb, you can understand their envy because Thor is beautiful and anyone, even if in the end they decide they don’t want to be with him, would be lucky to share in his love.

~~~~~~~~~~

You made Thor promise to keep his hands to himself and you’re already regretting it.

You feel like you’re going to pass out. It’s all wobbly on your legs.

Knees are buckling and you might go down any second.

Thor takes an inch in your direction, but you give him a frown and he clears his throat before going right back to the spot he’d been in.

Both of you stand in a long common room. There are two modern armchairs in a gray almost beige cotton fabric. Two long sofas in an orange sandstone color sit completely occupied.

On the sofa to the right sit two beautiful red heads. One has short shoulder-length hair with pale blonde tips. The other’s long locks in a deeper less vibrant red fall to the base of her shoulder blades.

The brighter red headed woman has a sharp face, with large bright green eyes and eyebrows that start somewhat full on the inner corners and slowly fade into much thinner lines.

They’re perfectly shaped for her face though it does give her a sterner look.

She’s wearing a plain black dress with capped sleeves and a plunging V neckline. Her shoes are simple black flats though, which she taps against the floor as she waits for you to speak. Black Widow is just as fearsome as she looks in the news.

The other woman is much younger, her youthful face round. Her eyes are a pretty soft brown, more inviting though still a little distrustful. This must be Wanda, the Scarlet Witch.

It’s like she’s analyzing every move you make.

Fuck.

Beside her sits a man with peachy skin, short blondish-reddish hair. He looks older than her, but still handsome.

Despite the appearance of his older age, he has hold of one of Wanda’s hands. Fingers intertwined.

They’re together.

Vision, your mind provides.

On the other sofa sits Steve, his eyes kind as he waits patiently for you to be ready. Beside him sits a handsome black man with an exhausted expression.

You can tell that it isn’t directed at you, but he looks tired. Just home from doing some Avengers work, maybe?

Beside him sits a middle-aged man with small streaks of gray at his temples. His face is kind, but he seems like he’s preoccupied. Like he’s got places to be or things to do.

He keeps wringing his hands slowly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he watches you.

On the far armchair is the man himself, Tony Stark. He looks every bit a king in his domain, just like Thor back home in New Asgard.

He owns the place—literally—and everyone knows it just by watching him sit there. He’s inquisitive about you, his mind clearly racing from the look in his eyes.

He’s the most analytical out of everyone. He keeps looking at you from head to toe, every shift in your stance, the way you hold your hands, or the fact that you’re looking each of them over and making your own conclusions catches his attention.

The last person in the room, and the only other one standing aside from you and Thor, is a tall beefy man with shortly cropped dark brown hair. He also looks tired, and he reaches up to rub his exhausted face with his shining black arm etched with golden veins that run through the sleek indestructible metal.

Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier. Though most people still call him that, from what Thor said in your prep when coming is that he’s been fixed?

No, that’s not the right way to phrase that. He’s not a dog. He’s been deprogrammed.

You don’t quite understand what that means, but you realized as Thor spoke that Hydra had done something to Bucky to make him do the things that he’d done. Like brainwashing, though you know nothing about how one gets brainwashed.

It made you sad, that someone would be that cruel and take from someone their identity and all the things that make them who they are. You heart aches for the former Winter Soldier and he gives you the tinies of smiles. Just a soft and subtle gesture of encouragement.

All eyes in the room are on you, and you’re freezing up so you appreciate the figurative extended hand.

When you speak, your voice trembles at first.

“I-It’s so…I’m s-so…”

They stir, sitting up straighter at the sound of your voice.

Get it together! You’re Queen of an entire fucking kingdom!

You clear your throat, and with a quick shallow breath you try again.

“I’m sorry, I’m a l-little nervous. I know how important you all are to Thor and I-I know this was sudden. We were both really sorry that you couldn’t come to the wedding but I’m so glad to meet you now. My name is Y/N, and I…I think that’s it?”

Turning to Thor, you find him smiling wide, singular eye bright. He’s proud and you can see it in the way he pulls his shoulders back and moves back towards you, slipping his arm around your waist.

Both of you are wearing the real versions of his illusion now minus the coats, formal King and Queen garb abandoned in his room.

Thor’s arm is a welcome warmth.

“That was wonderful, cherub.”

“Cherub?” A snarky voice teases, and both of you turn to look at Tony Stark.

“Leave them alone, Tony. I���ve heard some of the things you call Pepper when you think we aren’t listening.” The Black Widow, Natasha, cuts in.

“Like what?”

“Pudding-pop?”

“That’s a good one.” Thor observes. “Can I borrow it?”

“All y’all being really gross.” The new Captain America, Sam, points out.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have your own pudding-pop.” Bucky sighs, moving to the back of the sofa to lean both hands on the seat and look down at his friend.

“When’s the last time you had someone call you pudding-pop, Barnes?” Sam wonders, a clear attempt at a jab.

“Uh…1943? Just after I enlisted.” He answers, no sarcasm or embarrassment about that fact.

“You both need to get a life.” Natasha points out.

“You first.” Sam retorts.

Natasha fixes him with a look of confusion before getting up and moving towards Bucky. For a moment it looks as if she’s just going to pass right by him and into the kitchen behind him, but instead she slips her arm through his metal one and leans against him gently.

“I’ve got one. Don’t I, pudding-pop?”

The silence that follows is heavy but with building energy.

Then the room explodes with exclamations of, “What?!”

“When did this happen?!”

“How long have you two been a thing?”

“Why?!”

With their attention diverted, you relax, leaning into Thor’s embrace as Natasha catches your eye and gives you a quick subtle wink.

“I thought we were gonna wait?” You hear Bucky ask Natasha over the cacophony of voices demanding information, all of them on their feet again too except for Steve who is smiling and hiding it behind his hand.

Obviously he already knew, and it’s also obvious that Natasha revealed her relationship with Bucky for your benefit and to make meeting you the secondary event of this get together and while some women would be pissed that she’s gone and stolen your spotlight, you could not be more grateful.

~~~~~~~~~~

A metallic shoulder rubs against the side of your head and you lean away, gasping because you hadn’t expected the sensation.

You’re greeted with a metallic mask, similar to those of Tony Stark’s Iron Man helmet with slight variations around the mouth. The color is also brushed silver, the body white and red. It shifts to the side a little, away from you but it tips its head down in apology like an old 18th century gentleman.

“I’m sorry. Please, excuse me while I collect your empty plates.” The robot says.

“Sorry about the A.I., Cherub.” Tony says, then gives a quiet whistle. “Hey Bud, why don’t you take the night off?”

 Beside you, Thor chuckles at Tony’s new nickname for you. He’s done nothing but call you cherub since Thor did earlier in the night. It’s going to stick, or so Steve had promised.

The A.I. straightens up and puts the plates back down before moving off down the hall and out of sight.

“Bud?” Bruce Banner asks, who insisted you call him Bruce and drop the Doctor and the last name.

You have to keep reminding yourself to do so every time you talk to him. Because you can’t seem to remember, you’ve just chosen not to talk to him until you can.

Tony gets to his feet, moving around the table to lean over you, hand placed on his jacket to keep it from swinging against you.

“B.U.D.” He repeats, each letter on its own. “Buggy and Underdeveloped. I’m working on it. I’ve got their manners down. Jarvis quality though not as reliable. Vision is helping me work out the kinks.”

“I do what I can.” Vision says, Wanda reaching around to massage the back of his shoulders.

“You’ve made all the improvements. Tony had them calling us dickheads that one week before he asked for your help.”

“It was a typo!” Tony moves around to Natasha’s plate and piles it on top of yours, then Bucky’s who mutters a nervous thanks which Tony also mutters back a somewhat stiff approval.

You’re not given much time to notice their exchange before Thor’s hand finds your thigh under the table and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You smile at him, reaching down to take his hand. “Just surprised. I’ve never been around artificial intelligence of that caliber.”

“Don’t worry, Cherub. You’ll be used to it soon. You’ll be getting an upgrade at that pretty space cottage of yours pretty soon.” Tony says, grabbing a few glasses one at a time as he moves around the table.

“I’ll help you, Stark.” Thor suddenly says and releases your hand to move around the table and grab the other plates and glasses.

Why does he call him by his last name? Habit maybe?

“Thanks,” Tony nods.

“Space cottage?” You’re not sure what he means.

“Yeah, that big wooden house you all call a palace?” Tony clarifies.

“Oh,” Silly way to look at it. “There’s steel too.”

Tony smirks, “Well, I’ll be sending some people over to get a security system installed and an advanced satellite scanner to catch any movements that might come in from—up there. With this new threat that-”

Thor coughs loudly, dropping a glass that makes a terrible shattering glass sound against the black tabletop. Bucky catches the glass and holds it still then offers it up to him again.

Tony meets Thor’s singular eyed gaze who shakes his head minutely.

“-which I guess you’re not supposed to know? Whoops.” And with that he turns and leaves the room.

You look at Thor and find him watching you, then he quickly turns and follows Tony out of the room.

Whenever you’ve read in the past that someone sees red, you’d always suspected that it was metaphorical. However, you see red as your brain short circuits and all you can feel is a level rage.

The one thing you’d asked of Thor was that he won’t keep secrets from you and here is one, not even a week after your wedding!

“Don’t worry.” Natasha interjects, getting up from her seat. “When it’s worth knowing about, Thor will tell you. He just doesn’t want you to worry.”

Your frown only grows. You can’t seem to get your sudden temper flare under control.

“You’re upset.” Steve notices, getting up when everyone also starts to rise. “Why?”

You follow their example and get to your feet, pushing your chair under the table before following them into a smaller living room space just off the main common room while trying to quell your anger.

The living room is mostly white and gray with a long sectional that is full of red pillows.

“Because I’m Queen of New Asgard.” You point out, speaking a little more firmly than you mean to.

Steve gestures to the seat at the edge of the sectional and you take it, swallowing hard as you shove some of that upset down into your tummy so that you won’t lash out at the very nice people that Thor sees as family.

“You are.” Steve agrees. “No one would argue that you aren’t.”

Does he not get it?

“He might not want me to worry, but I have a responsibility to the people of New Asgard. If something is happening that might affect them, I need to know.” You cross your arms across your chest, huffing lightly and letting that be the peak of your temper.

You don’t want to fight with Thor here in front of everyone.

The reaction isn’t what you expect.

Sam, who is sitting on the floor at the bend in the sofa leaning against it as the weight of his sleepiness begins to take over, whistles.

Long and slow.

Bucky chuckles as Natasha settles beside him, her arms crossed across her chest as she leans back into his arm.

They don’t look together even if they are, just comfortable. Bucky’s arm curves a little more for her and is the only giveaway that there’s more between them than friendship.

She smirks. On the sofa beside you, Wanda leans forward to try and get a look at your pouting face, her red curtain of hair falling over her shoulder. Vision is standing by the TV looking at a collection of records to put on a turntable that sits ready and empty.

Dr. Ban-Bruce isn’t anywhere in sight.

Steve settles in beside Wanda but closer to Sam, leaving enough room for Vision to sit when he’s finished with the music.

“Thor said you had some bite.” Natasha shares, “Said something about you standing up for Loki? What’s that about?”

You feel your cheeks burn, neck too. With a shrug, you drop your arms and clutch at the fabric of your pants by your knees.

“Yeah, dude’s pretty psycho,” Sam adds.

“Sure, yeah, because a bunch of people dressing up in costumes and going around fighting crime and otherworldly forces are completely sane.”

Shit, did you seriously just say that?

There’s a beat of silence, then, “She sounds very sensible. Now that I’ve had some time with it, I think the cape might have been a touch too far.”

Everyone chuckles, and you turn to look at Vision who finally picks an album and slips it in place.

“Sorry,” You offer, hesitating a moment before you decide to explain yourself. “Loki has been nothing but kind to me. And calling him a psycho offends me. I know you all and the rest of the planet, have issues with him and what he did…so did I, but he’s trying. And he’s family now…like you all…so…”

Your words trail off as you turn to look for Thor, but you can still see him across the common room in the kitchen, exchanging hushed words with Tony and it’s starting to rile you up again. What’s coming? What’s so important that Thor has brought in the Avengers too?

“What did Thor call it?” Bucky asks Nat.

“Bite.” Steve tells him, “She’s got bite.”

“I’d say it’s more like a sting. But she’s right. I don’t think any of us here can judge someone by their past. At least I can’t.” Bucky nods.

“Or me,” Nat agrees.

“Or me,” Wanda smiles.

And then the music starts. Vision turns, hands behind his back as he also smiles at the general pleasantries.

“Taylor Swift?” Sam demands, “Really?”

Vision’s smile vanishes and he gives him nice wide eyes of surprise, “I’ve never heard this one before.”

“Excuse me.” You get up and move towards the kitchen, determined to get an explanation while the room behind you continues to argue the merits of Vision exploring different musical avenues.

“Whose album even is that?” Sam demands.

Steve clears his throat, “I think you should both get some sleep. I want a debrief first thing in the morning. I might not be Captain America anymore, but I’m still running this show.”

“Don’t try to change the subject, you’ve never accepted the boss mantle until now. Which other albums do you have in your room that you’re too afraid to share?” Nat adds.

“Hey, I have no shame in my musical taste.” Steve defends.

As you near the kitchen, the open spaces separated only by two large circular pillars and a sleek concrete counter island, you slow as their quiet conversation begins to reach your ears. It wasn’t necessarily that you’re trying to eavesdrop…but they’re not talking about what you expected them to be talking about. So, you freeze.

Too nervous to move, forward because what the hell? Or back, because they’ll no doubt hear your retreat.

Where’s the talk about threats to the kingdom and planet? No, you get a nice dose of fear and jealousy instead.

“You only knew her for a week before you married her?”

“It was arranged. All of you knew this. I explained it the last time we met.”

“I get that, but what-” You can hear the hesitation in Tony’s voice.

Despite the fact that he knows he probably shouldn’t bring it up, he throws his dishtowel on the counter and turns around to lean against it as Thor’s hands continue to sift through the dishes, washing them slowly. “What happened to Foster? Weren’t you two pretty hot and heavy? Last time you brought her here-”

“Jane has other priorities.” Thor cuts him off, clearly still hurt from his breakup with Jane.

You hate the sound in his voice. Why does he have to be so clearly heartbroken?

“That’s all I get?” Tony asks, waiting and leaning in a little closer to Thor.

“What else would you have me say? It was hard to leave her. And if I’m honest, I still find myself thinking about what life might have become if she’d been ready to settle down.”

What?

You take a step back, wanting to get away from this horrible conversation you wish you hadn’t accidentally run into. Retreat being heard be damned!

But then, “Cherub?”

It’s Tony, a smirk in his voice as he turns to help Thor dry the dishes he sets aside.

“She is my angel.” Thor smiles, just a teeny upturn at the corners of his lips as he steals a glance at Tony.

Your heart gives a painful clench at the love that you’ve been seeing in his eye pour through in his voice.

“A celestial creature sent to me by fate. I had no knowledge of the capacities of love. I’ve only ever found love as I found Jane’s. We were met by chance, and the attraction was clear and instant. Intention as well. With my cherub, things though they grew quickly, were harder to find. I had to look past my own melancholia to see that she was there waiting for me.”

“She does look like she’s completely lost it.” Tony nudges Thor aside because he’s taking so long and takes over the washing.

“I hope you mean lost her heart to me?”

“What else? Her mind? Though why anyone would agree to rule an entire country is beyond me.”

“She’s brave.” Thor boasts, body completely relaxed. “I’ve never known anyone with her courage. The first night of our engagement she demanded that I be honest with her, even if I decided to keep Jane as a mistress.”

Tony looks at him, eyebrow quirked as he asks a voiceless question.

“Which of course, is out of the question. I entertained the thought for a bit, I can’t deny it. At the very beginning as I was making my plans to go leave Jane, to end things permanently so that I could do right by Y/N and really try to make our marriage something lasting—I wanted to keep Jane at my side by any means necessary.

“Imagining a life without her was painful and I hate to admit that I had every intention in those last moments before I saw her to ask her to be with me even after I was married.” Thor confesses, sounding torn between guilt and desperation.

You remember seeing that desperation in him before he’d gone to see Jane.

Even after his proposal to you, even after those earth-moving kisses, he’d wanted to keep Jane at his side.

Of course, he did. You shouldn’t be surprised by that. He and Jane had shared so much before you came into the picture. Before you were forced in if you’re honest.

Still, it hurts, and you hate hearing it.

For a second time, you take a step back, wanting to leave.

But then, “What changed your mind?”

Thor sighs heavily, exasperated, exhausted by something.

He crosses his large arms across his chest, black shirt straining against his biceps and pecs. He’s so massive. Standing next to Tony only accentuates that fact.

“It took her two hours to make time to speak with me, and another three before she stopped explaining her work on energy spikes in some far East quadrant of space to let me even bring up the fact I was officially engaged to someone else.

“The only reason I was able to hold off for so long is that she would come and kiss me every twenty minutes to promise that she’d be done soon.”

You hate that.

“It was the waiting around after three months of having seen her last and six months since we’d been together. I just couldn’t stand the thought of that always being my life. As much as I loved her, I didn’t want to spend my marriage waiting for a woman when another had already assured me of her commitment to rule at my side as wife and Queen.”

“Is that the only reason you’re so into your Cherub? Because she obviously likes you?”

“No.” Thor shakes his head, “No, there are many things about Y/N that draw me to her. Most of them I’ve discovered since I made the choice to really let Jane go. When I came home that night, she was there to lure me back from the pit I’d crawled myself into by telling Jane goodbye.”

Tony stops washing to fix Thor with a knowing gaze. He scoffs then turns back to his washing.

“So, the sex is good, is what you’re saying?”

“The sex is very good. Incredibly good. I have no complaints about our physical chemistry. In fact, it’s better than with Jane or anyone else I’ve ever been with. I’m not sure what it is, but we are very well suited in the bedroom. She has such vigor, such desire. I am never in no doubt of her want of me. It’s so good that I almost didn’t want to bring her here because then I’d have to give up an entire day of having her to myself wrapped up in nothing but her bedsheets.”

“Alright, I think I get the picture.” Tony holds up one soapy hand to stop Thor’s bragging. “So, she sleeps with you and makes you feel better. Jane makes you wait, so you end it for good. Did you at least give her a proper goodbye?”

Thor is silent, and this time, you don’t want to know. You’ve already guessed and have been suspecting that this is very much the case, but you don’t want the confirmation.

If that’s what happened when he went to see Jane, you don’t want to know. Even if it happened before you two were married and really together, it happened when you were already in the picture and your heart was already being swayed.

Stepping out from behind the large round pillar, one hand resting against the smooth black curve, you watch Thor think about Tony’s question, tilting his head up to look across the room towards the living room space where the Avengers are now laughing about who the hell knows what.

He sees you and his face loses color.

“Thor?”

“What’s the matter?” He asks, a small bit of panic in his voice.

He moves towards you and you move towards him, meeting halfway.

“Did you hear?” He knows, probably because of whatever is on your face that’s making him panic.

His large hands are already pushing your numerous braids back, throwing them over your shoulders gently so that he can place his hands on your neck.

“Thor,” You repeat, this time getting a hold of yourself and reaching up to grab his wrists and pull his hands down away from your face. “What’s coming?”

This is why you’d come in here, and this is what you’ll insist on knowing. Fuck everything else they were talking about. You don’t want to know, and you don’t care what happened or what Thor felt before both of you exchanged vows.

“What?”

He seems stunned by the shift of topic, despite the agony that you’d momentarily been in. His voice even cracks a little, too shocked by the change.

“The new threat,” You clarify. “This new thing that we need satellites back home for? What is it? What’s happening? I know that you probably don’t want me to worry or want to protect me or maybe you’re still thinking of me as a civilian? But I’m Queen of our kingdom, Thor. If something is coming for us, I deserve to know. I need to know what’s coming if I’m going to help you protect our people. It’s my job and I can’t do it if you don’t let me.”

“Cherub’s got a point.” Tony adds, and claps Thor on the shoulder before gathering up a tray and makes his way out of the kitchen and towards the others with a bottle of beer for each of them.

“You’re right.” Thor nods, reaching to take your hands and he pulls them up to his lips kiss away the pain that he must have seen you feeling.

He seems to know though that you don’t want to focus on that and so he doesn’t bring it up.

You can tell he wants to though. He really wants to talk about what was just said in this kitchen.

“Yes, you’re right, you should know and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want you frightened or worried when you didn’t have to be, but you’re right. As Queen, you have every right to know what might be coming. But can’t we wait to talk about it until later? Tonight perhaps? When we’re alone?”

You don’t want to agree. You want to make demands of him and make him tell you everything right now. However, you also know that you’re a little angry about what you overheard and that’s probably why your pulse is pounding in your throat, heart ramming itself against your ribcage.

“Fine.” You huff then turn to move back into the living room.

“Hey,” He coaxes you back, voice low and deep so that the others won’t hear him.

He catches your wrist and pulls you back gently.

“Did you hear us? Because if you did, when I went to leave Jane I-”

“I don’t wanna know, Thor. If you slept with her, I don’t want to know.” You sigh, stomach clenching painfully. “You did what you have to do. It’s not like you and I fell in love in any kind of traditional way. We were forced together and now we’re married. I’m not stupid.”

“Of course you aren’t, and as true as all of that is, I don’t like the way you’re talking about it.” Thor agonizes, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer and further into the kitchen out of view of the others. “You’re acting as if I don’t love you, or as if it’s a farce. I love you, cherub. It happened quickly, but it is real.”

“I know that, Thor,” It’s nice to hear though, because you’re seriously feeling weak in the confidence you’d spent every night since your wedding building.

For a bit there, you’d believed wholeheartedly that Thor loves you. You still do…but the realities of Jane and how quickly he’d had to end that relationship with her because he had to marry you to give his people a Queen have been brought to light and ruptured the bubble of your new marital bliss.

It’s also suddenly very clear to you that he must still love Jane very much. Even if he loves you too. There’s no way he can move on this quickly.

“You don’t look like you do. You look sad and it’s putting knots in my stomach, love. Please don’t doubt me now.”

Fuck!

You lean forward, shoving your forehead against his wide chest. You wrap your arms around his waist and fist the back of his shirt as he brings his hands up to the sides of your head. You can feel his lips against your scalp, kissing against the large middle braid that goes down along the back of your head.

“This is so hard.” You admit, hating your jealousy.

“I wish I could take all of your strife.” He kisses your head again, an audible smack. “I’m sorry I’m the one making it for you.”

Both of you knew that this would be tricky.

“I swear to you, cherub, it’s only you. You are the only woman I want and the only being in the universe that I want to bear my children.” His words are full of truth and you look up at him to find that same honesty in his gaze.

It’s pained and sorrowful and you hate it.

“I shouldn’t have listened.” You pull yourself up against his body and push yourself up with puckered lips.

Eagerly he leans down to meet your lips with his own but he shifts his head to the side to deepen the peck you’d wanted to leave you in no doubt as to his devotion, or at the very least, his passion.

He leans down to wrap his arms around you and press you up against the side of the pillar.

“Thor…” You whisper when he pulls back to tilt his head the other way. “We’re guests here.”

The reminder cools him down and he places his hands on your hips instead while you tickle the hairs on the back of his neck.

“We should get back to your friends.”

Thor sighs heavily, hating this idea, but he knows you’re right.

He reaches up to take hold of the back of your neck, squeezing it possessively before he leans down to give you one more quick kiss.

“Tonight, I will leave you in no doubt as to my devotion and love. I promise.”

His declaration takes your breath away, and apparently Bruce’s too as he sputters a cough around his own beer as he freezes on the other side of the kitchen by the fridge where another large round pillar lines a different entrance opposite the side you’re both standing on.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Bruce says, reaching up to wipe at the beer dribble around his mouth.

Thor takes his hands back and you slip out from between him and the pillar then make your way back towards the living room feeling flushed.

As you walk back in, observing the room, Steve and Vision are currently playing an apparently rousing game of Connect Four on the floor while Nat and Bucky sit cuddled up on the far corner of the sectional, talking quietly but also giving the two battling on the floor the occasional glance.

Wanda is on her phone, typing away quickly with a beer held between her thighs. Sam is standing by the records, despite his previous griping, nodding his head as Taylor Swift’s 22 fills the space.

Tony is on his own phone, standing in the far corner of the room with a sappy smile on his own face which tells you he’s probably talking to his own wife, Pepper Potts, who couldn’t make it tonight due to a work engagement.

All of them have a beer around them or in hand, and as you make your way towards the bend in the sectional feeling a little like you’re intruding, just as your back hits the sofa a cold bottle meets your cheek.

You jump a little but turn to look and Tony holds out a sealed bottle for you.

“You okay with import? Or do you want domestic?” He asks, holding his phone to his shoulder, brows drawn together as he waits for your answer.

“This is fine, thanks.” You take the bottle and then give him a quick smile.

“Good, because then I’d have sent you down to get your own.” He assures you, but a voice from his phone calls his name and he hurries away again, phone pressed to his ear.

You look at the bottle of beer in your hands, wondering if the top is a twist but when you go to turn it the ridges hurt your hand and you stop instantly.

Just as you’re about to lean over and ask Bucky to open the bottle for you, the sectional dips beside you and heat envelops your shoulder and side as Thor sits right beside you.

“It sounds like excuses to me.” He says, looking at Bruce who sits down beside him with a bit more space allowed between them.

“It’s not an excuse,” Bruce insists. “I’m working on something that needs all of my concentration. I’ll come visit soon, I promise. I’m going to be coming with Tony for the security system installation so, I’ll get to see the palace then.”

“Thor?” You hold the bottle up for him and he takes it from you, kissing the side of your head before he simply flicks the top with his thumb and it flies off and falls right on Steve’s head.

“Hey,” He complains, but then gets distracted as Vision connects his four red chips.

“I win.” Vision declares.

“Damn,” Steve concedes. “You got me. Go again?”

Vision dumps the chips, and they start splitting them up.

“Here you are, cherub.” Thor hands you back your beer, and you take a quick drink before settling in against Thor’s side a bit more comfortably as he gives you a squeeze but continues to chat with Bruce.

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #a wife for thor #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fic #king!thor xyou #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #thor odinson x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #a wife for thor pt12

[sweetpickolwarrior]

The Three Times You Didn’t Want Them To Hear You, The One Time You Did (Part 3)

Established fic

Small!Brown!Female!Reader

Not too apparent but just letting you know in case.

Fic summary: You have been travelling with geralt and Jaskier for quite some time, you had always been told that your voice would take you places before you had no choice but to abandon your previous life. You still loved it though. This fic explores the times you let go and let yourself sing. We also explore your backstory and the developing relationship with your older and protective companions :)

PART 1 HERE PART 2 HERE

Chapter summary: Bit of a filler chapter, the wait was more so to plan out the rest of the story clearly. Y/N wants to repay geralt for his kindness and show Jaskier that she does not hate him, but has trouble with words and such. Further apologies for the wait... enjoy!

The fact that you had not been sober enough to truly appreciate the room that Geralt had decided to treat you with left you with a pang of guilt, but a wavering reluctance to bring up anything about that night lest he unnecessarily recall the sound of your voice. You don’t suppose he cared much, as far as you could pick out from that night, it wasn't something that mattered very much to him… but then why the room? The situation slightly baffled you. You much preferred going from contract to contract, tavern to tavern, losing yourself in the endeavours of your companions. You roamed the streets of this new, unusually pleasant town, the bustle of the morning bubbling through. Your mind turned to the small sack you had swaddled at the very bottom of your pack buried beneath your myriad of gatherings from your travels. A small, worn leather sack with a drawstring through the top, wrapped in an old sock that had outlived its original duty a few winters ago sat almost full, the weight of the coin inside at most an apple or two. You had kept it for emergencies, a few loaves of bread and some meat if rations had become sparse, a promise payment for a healer or mage, should one or more of you fall incapacitated while coin was low, an emergency room should the cold threaten to settle in someones bones too cosily, and should you feel the need to express gratitude to a generous but stoic witcher, apparently.

You wandered past a bakers stall, sweet pastries dusted with sugar beckoned, small honey dipped loaves with specks of lavender peeking through the golden slopes glinted in the morning light, puffy buns that had been baked with a clever twist in the top to result in a soft swirl sat in a neat row identical to the sweet fresh bread Jaskier had pressed into your palm earlier. You cringed at the thought of leaving so abruptly and didn't like all this coaxing going on, and hoped he would drop the subject so you could shove the topic down your tunic and carry on your simple shenanigans with the bard.

You strolled through, eyes on the dry dirt of the worn path through the centre, ladies walking with shawls wrapped tight around their shoulders gave you curt, tight-lipped greeting smiles as you passed through looking thoroughly disheveled. You had given up on dresses, petticoats, stockings and other such extraneous garments when tripping up on hems or sweating through layers upon layers had become more trouble than your chagrin had been worth. A tunic and breeches were sported now, along with unkempt, thick jet black hair. You tended to forget what a sight you would be to normal folks, constantly surrounded by the bard in his gaudy and intricate clothing (you still didn't know how he survived on the path) and a burly witcher clad almost always in armour and under that, similar garments to yourself. you supposed the three of you stuck out like an arrow between the eyes. Your mind flashed to what your mother may have said should she see you like this. It confused you for a moment, these memories suddenly deciding they were welcome in your conscious thoughts over the past few days. you stuffed the sudden pang of guilt and shame back into oblivion as your hands moved to your tangled mop, carding roughly through so you may find some semblance of being put together.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You tried hard not to cast your eyes down to your fingers, out of practice as they were. You tried to feel the sections, pick up more as you went, comb through soft with your fingers lest the ends get tangled, keep hold of the ribbon. Roach was being very patient with you. The fire warmed your back as you sat on your knees, tending to a horse who had decided to sit for you. You didn't know much of equine tendencies, but had heard that horses do not sit save for when it was going to rain. Your mind moved to days where your little troop had no choice but to trudge through hail, rain and thunder. She did not object and kept on wonderfully through these times and was rewarded with kisses and slips of dried fruit from you later on.

She had decided to understand what coaxing her to the floor with a brushing, soft words and rubs on her neck had meant that night and folded her legs, coming down with an impressive and somehow graceful thud. You supposed you couldn't know everything about everything and the clearest answer was that she’s just a very good girl. You relaxed as your fingers fell into a rhythm - right strand, left strand, ribbon, taking care to adjust the material so the nicer side was showing. “Expensive.” Geralt stated simply from behind. He was checking through his own pack, counting off vials of witcher potions and such. “Yes, well - an extra room must have cost.. and the food I didn’t touch” you focused on your hands, knowing Geralt was probably trying to avoid eye contact, too. After hearing a somewhat soft “hmm”, your attention returned to your fingers, having now grown a mind of their own. Roach’s auburn mane turned a dark coal in your minds eye, her soft huffs to small complaints of tugging too hard “hush now, or it won’t look nice” you barely whispered as her head jerked, it was an impossible task to try tie the hair of any child into a neat row, your sisters no exception. Your breath slowed as your mothers lullaby sat in between your lips, you tried to grasp the first note of the soft song.

Sisters? Here?

Your knees were cold and sore, kneeling on the ground so long, knobs of grass settling aches into your muscles; your hair unkempt and hastily scraped back, with a small leather tie, bumps hilling over your scalp that you had no care of. Your hands were dirty, grubby from foraging scraps of dry wood to keep warm through the night. Calloused from the past few years of plucking the string of your bow with arrows that reminded you with every swift hit that death was something permanent, immediate, inescapable. These hands were not the same ones that softly put braids in your sisters’ hair. These calluses were not the same ones that came from making music.

The first note of that bloody lullaby froze on your toungue.Best to stop trying to live in the past. Not that you were, trying that is. You wanted nothing more than those memories to keep sitting in the little box in your mind where they were meant to be. Happy, silent, unbothering. Instead they kept feeling the need to rise up, to pester you and drag you away, remind you that those days would never come back, that your whole life had vanished.

Well, this was your life now and different as it was, you needed to live in it. You pushed away the offending memories for the second time that day, focusing on finishing Roach’s mane.

Impeccable timing as always, Jaskier came strolling through after having washed everyone’s clothes in a nearby stream, no doubt a vein of the river you had found yourself in those few days ago. “Honestly, why do I bother? They're bound by fate to stink of ash and dirt anyway- I know! I could write a shanty about the smoked Witcher’s shirt - a real pub sway! Sometimes he smells of heroics and adventure! The whiff of a lady’s perfume often, but will always return to the ash of a trusty campfire” he leaned to put the folded pile down neatly. You were in awe of how these thoughts came running from your musical friend, you were convinced that he could write a song about watching clothes dry and still make it magnificent.

Ah. Exactly.

A dramatic gasp came from the bard, no doubt with a soft hand upon his chest. Your fingers tensed as you pat roach and tried to seem as nonchalant as possible.

"Now! Which one of you has been able to tie a bow so pretty all this time?”

You had laced the ribbon, as careful as you could to not disturb the strings, behind where they were pulled taut to the tuning pegs of Jaskier's lute, taking care that the tails would not brush against the front or impair his hands while playing. The ribbon you had bought was a soft lavender colour, embroidered with a deep violet, floral and feathery motifs weaving through the sleek fabric. You turned to see Jaskier caressing the fine fabric “I shall have to have an outfit made to go with this! Oh what a look that could be for the bardic competition this autumn! Simply revolutionary, a great stride forward in musical fashion! Bows woven through lutes, gods-” a theatrical palm to the forehead “How had I not thought of this before- and Roach! Oh! Exquisite, Y/N,” it seemed he had finally clocked onto the fact that this was your doing, both you and Geralt huffing amusedly as he was practically flying with excitement “I daresay Roach could be a fine show horse! Beautifully healthy and muscular, a shining coat, those deep glistening eyes- “She’s not a show horse” Geralt grumbled "I said could or rather might've been, had the twines of fate been wound a little looser.." You chuckled softly as your trusty bard rambled on into the night about how he knew a thing or two about show horses (being one in a past life, most likely) and you prepared your bedroll, smoothed it out with your hands and checked how close your damp clothes were to drying. When you reflected on Jaskier's words, you thought about how the warm and bitter smell of ash and smoke and fire made from Witcher magic was comforting to you. As you settled, you tried to smell other things, maybe someday you could smell half as well as a witcher if you trained hard enough. Ash, smoke.. the small burnt remnants of a meagre fish dinner, the distinctly horsey smell of Roach, the faintest traces of lavender lingering in your hair. You supposed you could try to hone in your hearing, too. You got comfortable, wriggling a little further in, catching a glimpse of the fine ribbon you had bought before closing your eyes...it was nice to see the splashes of the bright colour woven through your little group. You could first hear Jaskier mumbling on, the scratch of his quill onto the notebook he carried, the pops and snaps of the fire, the wind breathing contentedly through the leaves above, the last clinks of Geralt's potion bottles, then the slight crunch of careful steps in leather boots, his hands patting roach and hushed, almost inaudible whispers of him calling Roach his "pretty girl".

A/N : Hello, dears! I hope you've all been well and taking care of yourselves - I know it has been a tremendous wait. i've been planning the rest of the story out (i'm rly annoyingly particular about it) and lots of things have been a bit crazy the past two months. I hope this chapter isnt dissapointing given the wait but get ready for big angst, hurt/comfort and further progression of the story and characters in the next two chapters. I feel this filler was needed to transition into the next part of the story. I might change the description some as this story is not only about the fact that Y/N can sing, but also focuses on the way that changes her relationship with the boys.

More on the interactions of this night for the boys' POV in the next chapter probably x

I'm hoping the story is well fleshed out and flowing, and that its clear that singing is a great comfort and big part of Y/N's character. I hope its easy to immerse yourself and such. Again, its such a pleasure to receive likes and comments, and i'm very grateful to anyone who has read so far... be ready for great developments! As always, constructive criticism is welcome xxx Thanks gang!

Also yall thank my lil sister for helping me write this, she doesnt have an tumblr account so I cant tag her or anything but she super cool and rambling to her rly helps me organise my writing.

stay blessed!

tagged people:

@ladylizzieofdarbyshire i cannot find @sihxm i did try xxx

#the witcher (tv) #witcher #geralt #jaskier #geralt of rivia #reader #geralt x reader #jaskier x reader #platonic!jaskier x reader #platonic!geralt x reader #platonic geralt #platonic jaskier #mentor geralt #protective geralt #mentor jaskier #shy reader #reader has anxiety #developing friendships #tragic backstory gang #poc!reader #woc!reader #reader is brown #reader can sing #strap yourselves in for the next chapter gang

[allycryz]

FFXIV Write 9-27: Benthos

AU where WoL goes to Emet-Selch and the Tempest alone

Emet x WoL, rated T-ish for sensuality

Playing around with tenses and point of view, 1500ish words

--

You cry.

How could you not? You have fought for so long and walked so far, your travels spanning the Source and then the First. They ask so much of you; your enemies and your friends alike. Hydaelyn most of all, even as she takes and takes and refuses to speak.

You press the heels of your hands against your eyes in quick, angry motions as if you might erase the sight of them. As if your enemy and the one companion you have left did not witness them.

“This is your home, your city, your walls. You may go and do as you like, dress as you please, food shall appear when you want it. All I ask is that you come to me when the light becomes painful, so that I may ease your suffering.”

Your eyes blaze with the fire that has always lived in you. Dulled from the sundering, from the weight of your suffering. Mayhaps it is the light you have absorbed. Mayhaps it is the light in you that mirrors the soul you once were. The sun to thirteen wayward planets.

“What is your game, Emet-Selch?”

“Only what I offered and you accepted, my dear. I hoped you might contain the light...and your failure does not mean I have lost my interest in your well-being.” You flinch away from the gloved hand on your cheek. “My moving forward with my plans is practicality, not malice.”

“After what you’ve done-”

“What I’ve done? Perhaps I omitted a detail or too. But twas not I who played you for a puppet dancing upon his strings, on the chance you might fall for his farce. Twas not I who forced your friend’s hand to maintain the falsehoods.” You open your mouth and your intentions are guessed, headed off. “He is alive, I will tell you no more.”

You are furious and your grey-blue cheeks suffuse with indigo, just visible in the dim light of the room. It is late and it is dark here, as it no longer is on the First. I will miss the Darkness of course but we all must do things we dislike. I know better than most.

“Good night,” I tell you, leaving you. The door remains unlocked for where would you go?

--

The first harvest Mother took her on were faerie apples. Red, crisp, sweet-but-not-too-sweet. They were allowed to take a bag home along with Mother’s pay from the orchard owners. She had been no big help, young as she was. But that night, Mother gave her two gil coins to keep and save.

The first forage was for gil buns with their small, round caps and distinctive pungency. She was never to do this without Mother’s supervision. Too many mushrooms could be mistaken for these and you could get very sick or die. Mother was so emphatic that she touched no gil bun without an approving nod.

The first plant she found in Amaurot was a tree potted in a thick stone square. Its black, bare branches stretched towards where ocean depths had once bore down upon the sea floor. They fit into the metal and steel landscape. It was not a dwelling that was an extension of the natural world, not like the Ondo Cups.

Its pruned and ungreened limbs worked here. But this place...it was missing something. She didn’t know what. Only that when she looked at these inorganic plants lining the neat stone streets, she felt an absence.

She clinked as she walked. Her bedroom closet was full to bursting with clothes—tunics and leggings, long black robes, Ishgardian-style dresses that made her eyes burn with homesickness; and outfits like this with its top mimicking armor and its skirts split to allow movement. It would offer no protection if she had to fight but the illusion helped.

Her mail and weapon, of course, were nowhere to be found. Just like what nameless place she searched for, walking street by street, block by block, uncaring of the fire in her breast.

--

You gasp.

“One rule, I said. Come to me when it is painful.”

There is no point in waiting for you to give permission. We are far past that, with your blue-gray skin turning to marble and your golden eyes fading to colorlessness. With the clothing and jewelry you donned, it puts one in mind of Vauthry’s consorts. Perhaps the only beings who understood him in the end, even with their minds turned only to recognizing friend or food or host.

You slump against the alley wall and your breath is a pitiful, labored thing. Quieter and quieter, till you are yourself. All but the patch of stone-colored skin upon your knee. “Don’t do that again, lest I am unable to help.”

I have made it clear in my words and deeds since your arrival that I don’t plan on letting you transform. Not if I can help it. I wonder, if you believe me. You have always struggled with doubting me, as you did when you were whole and hale. There are so few connections between the you before me and the you I once knew. So little that I wonder at my feeling the same way.

Mayhaps I am lying after all, but only to myself. And mayhaps that is a lie as well, so I do not face that I have fallen for a sundered thing (albeit seven times rejoined) who is open where her whole self was not, who is brash where her whole self was measured.

“Where is…”

Your voice is hoarse. Your hands reach out and seize handfuls of my outer jacket, dragging me near with the clink of bracelets. Stripped of your martial trappings you are still a force to be reckoned with and even your tussle with the light has not taken the extravagant and lovely strength from your arms.

“Are you truly risking your health on him?”

Shock and dismay flood your face in turns and in those expressive eyes. I do not not know why until you speak. “I wasn’t...he wasn’t the one I was…”

“Oh hero…” And you flinch at the title. I cup your cheek and stand at my full height so I might murmur into your pointed ear. “Hero. No one would blame you for abandoning him.”

“I won’t.” Your grip on my robes go lax and you try to push me away. I press close enough to trap your hands between us and hook a finger through your layered golden necklace. Will you try to push me again and for real this time? “He does not deserve to die.”

“No one deserves to die, but you all do eventually. Or will, until my great work is complete.” When I press lips to your neck, your body cannot help but remember all the things I can do. Good, it will save me another bell of trying in vain to make my case. Your heart is noble but it is so much to a point reason cannot reach. Your body is always more amenable. “Was it a way out then? I would not advise it.”

“The garden!” You gasp and I cannot move, cannot breathe.

There are gardens in Amaurot. The Akademia thrives with facsimiles of Halmarut’s experiments. But that is not what you mean.

I know it is not what you mean.

“...Emet,” you breathe in lover’s cadence. The same caress of syllables from a week ago when I was in your bed and you had not gone to Eulmore for the last time. “What is it?”

“Nothing you should concern yourself with, my dear.” I roll my hips against you. “I’m more occupied with this compromising position you’ve put us in.”

This time you shove me away with actual strength and I remove my fingers from your necklace just in time. Your brow furrows and you stare at me, as if the whole of my secrets might be written upon my skin. But I am not like you, with your eyes that tell me everything before those dark lips might form words.

“Then don’t tell me,” you say. “I’ll find it out myself.”

I watch you stalk away. I hope you will find out. I fear that you will find out. And I wonder if the shade I imbued with too much of my heart will tell you, and if I should remove him or lead you to his side.

--

The first day was spent finding her way here, riddled with light and fearing she might perish in the Ondo caves, surrounded by deep sea creatures and flora who once evolved to survive the fathoms below, now thrust into a world of dry and air and danger.

The second day she wandered the city until she was found and healed; she wandered her way back to her rooms with more questions than answers.

On the third day, she found herself in front of the Bureau of the Architect. And something waited for her within, she could sense it. She put her hand on the door and pushed.

#ffxivwrite2021 #ally writes #nerys eluned #sorta #this is not an emet selch tag #emet-selch x wol #shadowbringers spoilers

[andypantsx3]

war paint | 5 | hot water

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

length: 27,765 words / 10 chapters

summary: Desperate times force you to disguise yourself and join the kingsguard. When a suspicious string of crimes strike the palace, however, Captain Katsuki Bakugou starts paying extra close attention. (spin off of in cinders)

tags: mulan AU, secret identity, romance, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, some violence, eventual smut

You laid low over the next few weeks, avoiding Captain Bakugou to the best of your ability.

You didn’t make eye contact during your drills, shifting behind Kaminari and Sero’s shoulders when you could. You kept to your bunkroom when you weren’t on duty, and ate quickly in the mess halls, leaving as soon as you were finished lest he come dine with his battalion. You left the palace grounds only to post your wages to your family, and hurried back quickly in case Bakugou came looking and found you gone.

You also steered clear of Nishimura and his idiot friend Hasumi, taking alternate routes when you saw them on the training grounds and saying nothing about the animals and bugs you continued to find in your sheets.

Your only relief was your continued patrols, especially when you were assigned to Sero or Kaminari. Kaminari in particular was good at getting you out of your funk, tripping over himself to make you laugh and forcing you to socialize with all his palace favorites like Hagakure the laundress or on one notable occasion, Ochako Uraraka, companion to the princess-to-be and wife of the prince’s trusted valet, Izuku Midoriya.

His favorite stop, however, continued to be Mina’s workrooms and you found yourself getting quite comfortable with her, relaxing into her bright and cheery presence. She kept you well entertained with easy humor and palace gossip.

“I heard Captain Bakugou told the prince he’ll have the thief in chains before the wedding,” Mina said one evening as you and Kaminari finished up your rounds. “But it’s hard to know where he’ll strike next. There’s no discernable pattern in the rooms he targets or the things he seems to take.”

“Wow, never thought anyone would be able to stump that guy,” Kaminari said, kicking his feet up on Mina's worktable. Mina growled, shoving his muddy boots off the bright fabrics. Kaminari overbalanced and only just managed to stop himself from face planting, grabbing her chair tightly.

He shot Mina a dirty look but continued. “Bakugou’s basically like a bloodhound. I thought for sure he would have sniffed the thief out by now.”

Mina sighed. “I know! And it’s giving the servants ideas now, too. One of them stole Lady Yaoyorozu’s best gown right out of the laundry rooms last Sunday. The housekeeper’s had a right time of it trying to track down the culprit.”

You thought back to your own patrol on Sunday, but it hadn’t taken you anywhere down near the laundry rooms. Nishimura and Hasumi’d been on that route and you wondered if the theft had occurred right under their noses, the pair of fucking idiots.

“If I were the thief,” Kaminari said, “I would steal an entire tray of those little cinnamon buns cook Rikido makes.”

You laughed. You had yet to try one, but from the way the other soldiers waxed poetic about them, you didn’t doubt they were worth stealing.

“Ooh, I would pilfer those sweet cakes he does,” Mina said longingly. She looked as though she was thinking wistfully of a long lost lover.

You thought to yourself. If you were any kind of thief, you’d steal money, most likely, to send back to your family. Or maybe something of the captain’s to burn. You wondered if he cared enough for anything that you could get him to beg you for it back. You quite liked the image of him on his knees before you...

A chuckle from Kaminari brought you out of your fantasy.

“Maybe we should take up a life of crime,” he said.

Mina eyed him. “Think of how fast Bakugou would figure you out and say that again. He’s the smartest person in this entire castle.”

Kaminari winced. “On second thought, protecting and serving is my passion. I’ve never so much as looked at a stolen pastry. If someone approached me with one I’d report them straight to the captain.”

You’d heard from Mina exactly how the prince’s future bride had bribed her way into the mid winter ball, so you weren’t buying it.

“In other news,” Mina said, “The new servants' baths are finished. You lot might get to try them! I heard they’re only waiting on an inspection from the steward to open. Hagakure said she already snuck in for a dip in the ladies’ baths and just about melted.”

Your interest piqued. You hadn’t had more than a rushed scrub down in weeks, and if the baths weren’t open yet, your chances of being disturbed were few.

“Where are they?” you asked, trying not to look as interested as you felt.

Mina described their location and dropped the tantalizing fact that they’d been built over a natural hot spring just south of the castle. Mentally, you could feel yourself rubbing your hands together with glee. Maybe tonight you could soak away all the stress from the past few weeks.

Kaminari yawned in disinterest. “No wonder you’ve got such a girly face, L/N. You’re basically as bad as Mina.”

You scoffed. “There is nothing wrong with being clean.”

He raised a golden eyebrow. “You even sound like Mina.”

Mina patted your arm sympathetically. “Denki was born to repel women, L/N, don’t hold it against him. A woman likes a well groomed man. Keep it up and you’ll have your share of ladies hanging off you when you grow up.”

You stifled a laugh. You certainly hoped not.

Kaminari, however, looked absolutely incensed and he bit out a retort at Mina, storming out of her office and bodily dragging you with him. You suppressed a smile and followed him through the rest of your rounds, trying to look appropriately chastened when he told you off for not defending him.

You felt lighter than you had in ages, though, and you looked forward to an evening spent in the baths.

Late that evening, hours after everyone went to bed, you crept out of the barracks and followed a worn path to the south of the castle. The baths proved tricky to find in the dark, but soon enough you stumbled upon the entrance. In case Hagakure was around for another illicit dip, you stuck to the men’s side, not wanting to explain to the laundress why her friend the soldier suddenly had sprouted a pair of breasts.

You lit a match and followed its light into the steamy heat of a dark room. You pressed it to a set of sconces set into the wall which, when lit, revealed an open pool sunk into the floor of the room. The light wasn’t enough to see the bottom of the spring by, but you could see steam curling off the surface of the water and you shivered in delight.

You quickly undressed, leaving your clothes and your breast bindings in a neat pile by the side of the pool, and climbed into the dark water. The heat instantly loosened your shoulders, and you could feel what must have been months of tight knots unraveling within your muscles.

You let out a sigh and sank in up to the top of your head, letting the water sluice over your shoulders and hair. You grabbed for your soap and washed down thoroughly, luxuriating in a feeling of total cleanliness that you hadn’t felt in months.

Then you let yourself float, feeling near ecstasy in every single nerve where the warm water touched your skin. The gentle lap of the water against the side of the pool and the steam curling up around your face lulled you into a stupor.

Until the scrape of a boot at the entrance reached your ears. Cussing, you ducked back down in the water, swimming over to press your chest up against the side of the pool, your heart beating frantically like a frightened rabbit.

Your stomach dropped when light caught on a lock of unruly blonde hair, and Captain Bakugou slipped into view.

“Interesting place for me to find a soldier who’s supposed to be in their bunk,” he said, smirking. His eyes were bright in the torch light.

You wanted to rush out of the baths and leap into your clothes, but you could only hold still in fear as he stepped closer. He looked like he’d come from his own bed, only wearing a loose linen shirt over a pair of soft breeches, his usual uniform conspicuously absent. You tried to ignore the peek of a well defined pectoral through the low collar of his nightshirt.

“Captain,” you said quickly, “I, um...I couldn’t sleep.”

He moved to the edge of the pool, staring down at you. “And you think that means you can just defy my orders, pretty boy?”

You flushed. “No, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

He looked you over, scarlet eyes running over your wet hair and shoulders. “You look awfully comfortable in there. Not gonna get out?”

Your heart shot into your throat. You couldn’t get out, not in front of him. Not if you didn’t want this whole charade to be ruined right here, right now. You didn’t know if Bakugou would knife a woman, but you didn’t want to take your chances and find out.

“I’m, um, embarrassed to, Captain,” you said by way of explanation. You stared at his boots, not daring to look up into his handsome face.

“Well aren’t you delicate, princess,” he quipped. His boots shifted and all of a sudden his face was in front of yours. You startled, shooting back from the rim of the pool, water sloshing loudly around you. You covered your chest protectively -- you didn’t know how well he could see in the low light of the torches but you didn’t want to test it.

A gleam of interest came into his eye and his gaze picked over you again. He looked disconcertingly curious, his head cocked to the side, like a wolf considering which part of the prey to tear into first.

To your horror, his hand moved to his shirt. Before you knew what he was doing, Bakugou grinned and pulled his nightshirt over his head. You had a glimpse of strong arms and a defined chest with a mouth watering set of abs before you panicked and whipped around, staring hard at the opposite wall.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice coming out high and squeaky.

“The fuck you think I’m doing, shrimp?” he asked. You heard the mortifying sound of his belt being undone and the scuff of his boots as he stepped out of them. “I’m testing something.”

“C-captain,” you said. “You’re not coming in here.”

You heard a low chuckle. “Don’t wanna share, princess?”

“Th-that’s not it!” you gasped, spine locking up as you heard his pants hit the ground. There was a slosh and water rushed over your back in a small wave. “Captain, this isn’t right.”

His rough voice was coming too near. “It’s a communal bath. We’re communally bathing. You some kind of pervert or something?”

You certainly felt like one if the way your eyes had tried to stay stuck to his chest was any indication. “And if I am?” you asked.

There was another low chuckle, this time right by your ear. “Awful shy for a pervert.”

You stood still, hardly daring to breathe. Your thoughts raced wildly from one topic to the next. What did he think he was doing? How were you going to get out of here without him figuring you out? If you pushed him, could you make it out of the baths before he caught you? If he caught you, what would he do?

A broad, hard chest pressed right against your back and your brain froze completely. You stopped breathing.

What was this? This was beyond teasing. What was the captain trying to accomplish?

“Still embarrassed?” he rumbled in your ear. A shiver went through you and your arms tightened around your chest, praying he couldn't see anything over your shoulder.

“This is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me,” you blurted. You tried to will your mind to disconnect from the nerve endings in your back. He was so, so warm.

He snorted, and there was a moment of hesitation before he sloshed away from you again. You sighed in relief as the heat of his body left your back. “Not counting you getting your ass kicked in the mess hall.”

Irritation flashed through and you would have rounded on him if you could have turned around. “I wasn’t getting my ass kicked.”

There was a splashing sound from behind you. “Oh, were you only pretending to be losing spectacularly?”

You clenched a fist under the water. “Look, why are you here?”

There was a beat of silence.

“You ain’t the only one who can’t sleep,” Bakugou admitted roughly, surprising you. You chanced a look at him over your shoulder, only to whip back around, shame-faced. Yep, his abs were still there.

“W-why can’t you sleep?” you asked for something to say, voice a little shaky. You cleared your throat.

“Why can’t you?” he asked.

You frowned. “I asked you first.”

He let out a low chuckle. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”

You could feel your cheeks heat, and you tamped down on an indignant so are you. A soldier didn’t talk to their commander that way, nor a peasant to a marquis.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me, princess,” Bakugou said. His voice sounded smug, like he knew what retort you were clamping down on.

You thought for a moment on what you could tell him. You couldn’t exactly admit to waking in the middle of the night to bathe without having your gender revealed. You could be vague, though, and still tell the truth.

“My family,” you said. “There were some things that, uh, led me to the kingsguard, and I was thinking about that.”

Bakugou seemed to accept that. “I was thinking about how I'll kill that thief nice and slow when I get my hands on him.”

You shivered despite the warm air of the bath house. The thought was unsurprising, but Bakugou being kept awake by it was. “You’re more bothered about this than I would have guessed.”

A loud, gusty sigh echoed from the other end of the spring. “They’re fucking with my territory. And they’re bothering the shit out of Shouto and his dumbfuck valet.”

“The prince?” you asked, surprised.

“He’s a...friend,” Bakugou admitted. You were somewhat shocked by the admission that Bakugou had anything like friends. You wondered what the prince was like, to be so unbothered by Bakugou’s rough manner. Or maybe Bakugou didn’t try his usual tack with a member of the royal family.

“I’ll kill anyone who fucks with him,” Bakugou growled quietly, “Or that green-headed little snot rag.”

You guessed he meant Midoriya, the valet. He sounded oddly protective for someone he called a name like snot rag. You wondered wildly if, despite the disturbing terms in which he spoke of them, he considered the prince and his valet something like family. It would explain why he was so bothered by the thief when he was normally so unflappable.

“I hope you find them,” you said, the sincerity in your voice surprising even you.

“Oh, I will,” he promised darkly. You shivered again.

A loud splashing from his end of the spring distracted you and you looked back over your shoulder, only get an eyeful of a very chiseled butt leaving the pool. You yelped, covering your eyes.

“What are you doing?” you gasped.

Another low chuckle reached your ears, along with the rustle of fabric. “Leaving. Didn’t you want that, princess?”

You took a breath. “Well--yes.”

There was more rustling. “I’ve had my fun with you,” he said, and you heard the scuff of his boots as he pulled them on again. “Don’t let me catch you out of your bunk again or I’m fucking discharging you.”

You nodded, heart beating wildly. Had you really gotten away with this? “Yes, sir,” you answered dutifully.

Bakugou let out another derisive snort. “Get to bed,” he said imperiously, and then he was gone.

You turned to stare after him, listening to the tread of his boots grow further away. Finally, as the sounded faded, your knees gave out and you sank back under the water, feeling horribly relieved, and yet more confused than you had ever been before.

You'd escaped, but...what the hell had just happened?

#bakugou x reader #fanfic #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki

[lilallama]

hello! i reaaaaally really reaaalllllyyyy love your writing! I'd like to know how both clubs would react to their beloved texting them? it could be anything you want! I trust your creative mind:D i hope you're doing well~(´∩｡• ᵕ •｡∩`)

[Thank you so much, cinnamon bun ❤ that makes me really happy ^^. I'm doing very good, I hope you do too. Hobis picture didn't fit on here (TT), so I will post it by itself. 💕🍑]

Hoseok

The young boy layed on his silk sheets, on his four thousand dollar mahogany bed, while drowning in the sounds of his best friend. On his phone he kept repeatedly playing the recordings of their calls. Hearing their voice felt like heaven to him, if he could he'd make them talk forever just so he could dwell in the sound of their voice. Suddenly his euphoria was interrupted by a notification.

Y/n 💕

Have you got the homework for today?

If yes, could you please tell me, thanks.

He sat up and put on his glasses. Yes, it really was Y/n. Although they consider him a best friend, Hoseok still cannot stop his heart from racing in his chest. He quickly typed an answer and jumped up to send them a picture of his finnished work.

Seokjin

With his soft black hair pulled back my a fluffy, pink headband and him wearing an evenly fluffy but white bathrobe, he sat in his private bathroom and applied his expensive skincare products. He hummed and sang a bit [I love you, Y/n~] before being interrupted by his phone notifying him that he got a message.

Prince/ss 👑

Have you got the homework for today?

If yes, could you please tell me, thanks.

He immediately threw his fifty dollar "protection and hydration, for a longer lasting youthful look" cream away and hurried to type back. Why should his love have to do homework, when he'll have one of his butlers do it for them. Silly Y/n.

Yoongi

The newest Rap music blasting in his ears, Yoongi hugged a photo of Y/n, his gorgeous [not yet] lover, to his chest. He dispises most of the new music. It's all money, sex and parties, none of which has anything to do with him. He's an anti social virgin, who has to work two part time jobs to be able to provide for himself and his alcoholic mother. But in that moment he didn't care. The sobs escaping his mouth got interrupted by a notification, no one ever texts him.

Angel 🎶

Have you got the homework for today?

If yes, could you please tell me, thanks.

His red, watery eyes widen. They actually wrote him. They noticed little, boring him. Without thinking he typed a response and made his way to give them what they asked for.

Namjoon

The sound of a pen scraping against paper, leavibg behing dark blue, inky lines that are formed into neat writings. As student council president, Namjoon made sure to set an example to everyone. Diligent, devoted, intelligent, responsible Namjoon. Just as the last sentence was brought to an end, a notification popped up on his phone. He was going to ignore the message, but then spotted the name of the sender.

Darling ❤

Have you got the homework for today?

If yes, could you please tell me, thanks.

His pen rolled out of his hand and hit the polished floor of his room. His love just texted him. They asked for his help! Is he dreaming? He must be. Oh, how he longed for such a moment. He can finally be useful to his darling.

Jimin

The music came to a stop and so did Jimin. He pushed his pink hair out of his sweaty face, while whiping some of the sweat away with his already soaked shirt. The white fabric sticking uncomfortably to his body as he tried to catch his breath. After all there's no time for breaks, he has to impress his baby with his skills! But before he could start the music again, his phone buzzed in his backpack. He walked across the practice room with an annoyed look on his face.

Baby 🥰

Have you got the homework for today?

If yes, could you please tell me, thanks.

Jimins vision went hazy for a second and he lost balance. Now on the floor, he still stared at the message. His face flushed even more than before while thinking about their cute face, distraught at having forgotten the homework. He smiled and took a picture of him winking, making sure to take it so they could see his sweaty shirt, stuck to his back in the mirror. He'll send you it once he gets home, until then how about you talk for a bit?

Taehyung

The artistic boy kept his eyes on the canvas before him. His apron had multiple dried up colour stains, while fresh paint coated his fingertips. Some of the paint got smushed on his face as he brushed his bangs aside, while sone of the paint also got stuck in his locks as he tied them into a small bun. He stepped back, the painted face of his love smiling back at him made him break out into a lovestruck boxy grin. But then his phone buzzed and his smile immediately disappeared.

God/dess 🌹

Have you got the homework for today?

If yes, could you please tell me, thanks.

With his mouth slightly agape, his almond eyes stared at the slightly stained screen. Was he imagining things, was his god/goddess really giving him the chance to serve them. After a few seconds he snapped out of it and hurried to grab his homework.

Jeongguk

In the dark of the night, Jeongguk slouched through the streets. He just got in a fight, boxed the guy so hard that he broke his nose, arm and maybe a rib, just to leave that pathetic, shaking pile of shit whimpering on the ground. As the streetlights softly shone down on him, illuminating his face, he received a message.

Spouse 💍

Have you got the homework for today?

If yes, could you please tell me, thanks.

He stopped in his tracks. A cold wind surrounded him, messing up his hair even more. A bright smile appeared on his face, revealing his bunny like teeth. After jumping around and twirling once or twice he stopped to reply. He couldn't repress the laugh that escaped his dry throat. Now he only has to hurry home!

Jennie

She was feasting with her parents at the gisnt dinner table, but they completely disregarded her existence, only having eyes for each other. She chuckled and cleared her throat, catching her parents attention who bashfully laughed along with her. Jennies parents are exactly how she wishes her future marriage to be. They started talking when her phone notified her of a message.

Y/nie 😘

Have you got the homework for today, girl?

If yes, could you please tell me, thanks.

Before her mother could scold her on her lack of etiquette, she squealed in a high pitched note, that her Y/n just texted her. Of course, her parents knew about you as well as her feelings for you, they were the exact same when they were younger. They sighed lovingly and huddled together while their daughter excitedly texted her love.

Jisoo

Just a few minutes ago, she was busy going through all her Y/n pictures that have she took these past months [5732, not counting her digital copies]. She was just brushing her silky black hair when her phone let out that obnoxious tone. Jisoo snapped around to her phone on her bed, her 20th one this month [her phone keeps running out of storage room from all her photos, yet she refuses to delete any. So she just gets a new one once her current runs out if storage]. She looked at the screen.

My Muse

Have you got the homework for today, girl?

If yes, could you please tell me, thanks.

As soon as she read these messages, her expression brightened. He brush was thrown into a corner of her big room, making a clack sound as it hit the tiles. In a matter of seconds she typed her answer and send you the homework, as you requested.

Chaeyoung

Soft, gentle fingers stoked the strings on a wooden guitar, filling the room with a sweet melody. An angelic voice joined the guitar play, creating a fairytale like song. As it slowly came to an end, the girl to whom that angelic voice belongs, leans over to her nightstand, grabbing her phone. With longing eyes she stared at the screen while muttering please under her breath. Just then, she received a text message.

My Lovely Y/n 😊

Have you got the homework for today, girl?

If yes, could you please tell me, thanks.

She jumped up, placing the guitar on her bed while dancing around. Her eyes, filled with love and adoration, focused on the text. She took a screenshot and replied while singing out of happiness.

Lisa

After she had finished her last pirouette for the day, she scated off the ice to remove her scates. The young girl sat on the cold bench, letting her hair out of her bun, to flow over her shoulders in smooth waves. While removing her skates, she received a notification on her phone.

Sweetheart 🌸

Have you got the homework for today, girl?

If yes, could you please tell me, thanks.

Lisa smiled as she exchanged her ice skates for a pair of warm boots and placed them back to where they belong. While texting her love, she walked out with poise and flipped her hair back. Of course her love would rely on her. She is the most trustworthy person after all.

#yandere bts #cooking club #yandere blackpink #newspaper club

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (11) || atz

He pulls you through the town, back to the harbor where you can see several ships docked in the piers. But to your surprise, Jongho doesn’t lead you back to the Treasure. Instead, he drags you to a small bakery selling pastries and sweets.

You turn to him confusedly. “Jongho-hyung, what are we doing here?”

“Pick three cakes.” He gestures at the shelves. The establishment is neat and well kept for a pirate town, and the cakes look rather high quality compared to the other shops you saw earlier. It must be expensive. But since he told you to do it, you obey.

The shop owner takes your pastries and puts them in a little paper bag. Then Jongho adds several more cakes to the order, until his arms are laden with bags of sweet treats.

“Let’s sit.” He tells you gruffly, pulling you to one of the tables outside and sitting you down. You continue staring at him in complete bewilderment even as he pulls out your pastry and sets it in front of you.

“Eat.”

Your mouth falls open. Then you lean forward, pressing a palm against Jongho’s forehead as you look into his eyes intently. “Jongho-hyung, are you experiencing any dizziness or discomfort?”

The maknae jerks back at the contact, face twisted in a confused scowl as he shakes his head. “What? No! What are you-”

“You need to be honest with me, Jongho-hyung.” You look into his eyes carefully, searching for wavering pupils or the like and your voice drops to a secretive whisper. “Have you been drinking without telling Seonghwa-hyung?”

“No! Why are you even asking me this? I'm not being weird!” Jongho yelps as he scoots back further from you, the sound of his chair dragging across the stone floor making both of you wince. “I'm not drunk! I’m not sick either!”

“Okay…” You continue to stare at him with worried eyes as you take a bite of your puff, the sweet taste of cream spreading over your tongue. The young battlemaster sighs.

“I just wanted to talk to you.” He glances away from you for a moment to collect his thoughts, before he opens his mouth to speak again.

“I don't hate you, okay?”

His words are mumbled under his breath, so you lean across the table to hear him more clearly.

“What?”

“I don't hate you!” He shouts, clearly embarrassed. His cheeks are tinged pink and you look at him in surprise.

“Shut up, kid!” One of the bakery’s patrons shouts at the two of you and you shy back into your chair, feeling your cheeks burning.

“Oh.” Is all you manage.

You’re a little shocked. With how he’d been treating you this while, you thought he’d hated you, loathed you, even. While you weren’t sure why, you had thought he had disliked you immensely.

“Wipe that dumb look from your face before I smack it off.” Jongho grunts, and you realise that your lips are pulled into a wide grin. Hurriedly, you try to hide your Cheshire Cat smile, but it’s impossible. “I mean it!”

Finally with much difficulty, you press your face into a poor attempt at a serious look, much to Jongho’s chagrin. He sighs, slapping a hand against his forehead.

“I’m just awkward with new people, okay?” You’ve never seen the young battlemaster this skittish. Even in battle, he’s always possessed some kind of quiet, silent self confidence, not an ounce of self doubt in him. “And I was always the youngest till you came along, so I’m not sure how I’m supposed to… take care of you.”

You’re oddly touched by this for a moment. This strong man, who can handle even the fiercest of enemies, awkward and shy… because he doesn’t know how to take care of you.

A giggle somehow manages to leave your mouth. “That’s cute.”

“What! No!” Jongho cries in horror, looking desperate now. “I’m not cute-” A disgusted glower paints his face as the last word passes his lips.

“Boy, shut up before I come over and shoot you myself!” The shopkeeper bellows from behind the counter, and Jongho slumps back into his seat, groaning in despair at your irrepressible smile.

“Forget I said anything.” His words are muffled against the table top.

The two of you sit in peace for a long moment. It’s silent, like how it was between the two of you before, but where there was discomfort, now there is a happy warmth that fills you from the inside. Maybe it is because you’ve lost your memories, but with every new person that you meet, they root and grow themselves in your heart.

“Jongho-hyung…” You suddenly speak up, breaking the silence you two had been enjoying. The young battlemaster raises an eyebrow as he looks over at you questioningly. “What song did you sing when I was tied to the mast?”

“Song?” He frowns, but you can see baby pink blossoming on his cheeks like cherry blossom petals. “I sing a lot. Do you remember the lyrics?”

You recite what you remember. “Born on the wrong side of the ocean…”

“Ahh.” A small, sad smile pulls at the corners of Jongho’s mouth, the look softening his serious expression as he glances towards the harbor. The sun has just begun to set, the rosy light casting Jongho in a halo of warm oranges and pastel pinks. “It’s an old song. My mother used to sing it to me when I was still a child.”

The look on his face is forlorn, a little happy, a little sad, a little wistful. His eyes seem to be looking at something so far away, gazing at some point in his past that you can’t see.

“Jongho-hyung… where is your mother?”

That snaps the maknae out of his thoughts, the smile falling from his face as he inhales deeply. “She’s dead now. Died of consumption a few years ago. Didn’t get the medicine she needed and left. She’s in a better place now.”

You blink once. “That’s sad.” The cream puff is finished off, and you lean back to look at Jongho. His gaze never leaves the ocean as he continues to speak.

“Dad died before she did. In a hurricane offshore. Never got to see a trace of him again except the smashed up remains of his boat.” He points to a piece of tattered white fabric he wears around his shoulders.  “This is from the wreckage.”

His voice is thick with emotion, but his face remains solidly strong. You feel something stirring in your chest, something that seems to want to swallow your lungs whole. You frown and touch your chest. Is there something wrong with you?

“But enough about my sad backstory. What’s over is over, and what’s left for me to do is move on.” Jongho’s voice doesn’t waver at all as he thumps his chest. “They live on in here. I’ll live well for the two of them and never shed a tear again. Can’t let them be worried about me.”

His smile returns, a genuine and powerful one this time. For a moment, you’re so lost in it that you can barely breathe. Jongho is the epitome of strong. Not just physically, but in the heart, and in every sense of the word.

“Anyway, what about you, stowaway?” He cocks his head as he shoves a meat stuffed bun into his mouth. You look confused for a moment. What past do you have to tell? “What’s with that necklace around your neck?”

Ah. Your fingers reach up to stroke the silver chain resting against your delicate collarbones. Your only link to your past, the last thread you have connecting you to who you were before.

“I don’t know.” You murmur softly, feeling a lump rise in your throat. “I woke up with it.”

“I know Hongjoong-hyung said you’re an amnesiac.” Jongho looks at you firmly, but curiosity brims behind his eyes. “But do you really remember… nothing?”

You close your eyes. For a second, white dances behind your eyelids, the sound of sea crashing against the shore filling your ears and rain touches your face.

Then a single, unblinking red eye looms into your mind.

Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes fly open. You can still see it, a monstrous thing, a dark, hulking shape in the depths that has been forever chasing you… following you…

You’re not sure how Jongho will react right now if you tell him you could hear the voice of a giant squid monster which was chasing the Treasure, so you merely hold your tongue and shake your head.

Jongho is silent for a moment.

Then suddenly he rises to his feet, abruptly grabbing you by the arm. You follow, a little stunned by his strange change in demeanor, and Jongho whirls to look at you with resolution carved into his face.

“You’ve got whipped cream on your nose.” The young battlemaster swipes the sweet smudge off with a finger and licks it off, to your horror.

“That’s disgusting, Jongho-hyung.” You scrunch up your nose, but you’re not sure why he’s suddenly so eager to do something. Jongho begins pulling you somewhere, much to your surprise.

“Where are we going?”

“When I first came to Tortuga, I had just lost my parents and joined the crew.” Jongho tells you earnestly, leading you down past the harbor to a more lively, darker part of town by the shore. Many street vendors and shopkeepers with makeshift booths line the wooden docks, all offering some sort of rare, exotic wares, but Jongho simply brushes past all of them without a second glance. “And by coincidence, I visited a fortune teller.”

“I didn’t peg you for the superstitious type, hyung.” Is all you say as you take in the new environment all around you. The place is a little shady, with suspicious characters slinking away at every turn and dark, hooded men crouching behind corners. But with one glance from Jongho and they scatter, clearly intimidated by the way his fingers inch for the handle of his cutlass.

You remember what Yunho had told you about Jongho just earlier this morning.

He’s a great fighter and he has strong protective instincts. You’re probably safer with him than in the sickbay.

“I’m not superstitious.” Jongho tries to defend himself, but sees the look on your face and sighs. “There’s something different about this fortune teller. I never believed magic existed till I met San-hyung… but this fortune teller has a similar aura I get from hyung.”

You immediately understand what he’s talking about. Your master has a pulse about him that you’ve always been able to feel, like the warmth emanating from the sun and a gentle pulse that draws people to him, a comforting softness.

You’ve never seen San use his ‘inner energy’, as he calls it, but the feeling you get from him is no lie.

“But why do you want me to come to a fortune teller, hyung?” Nerves and a deep sadness twist within you. “There’s no point in knowing what’s going to happen. If I can’t remember my past, what’s the point of looking at the future?”

Jongho then stops you in your tracks, placing his hands on your shoulders. His eyes are both gentle and earnest at the same time, searching yours and for a second you can’t look away.

“You may not have a past yet.” The grin on his face is wild, brimming with confidence. “But we sure as hell are going to be your future.”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #w; fanfiction #w; ot8 #w; pirate king

[vkapple]

Pandaria is famous for the beauty of its places. Clear fields, high waterfalls, perfect buildings, good alcohol. Indeed, the festivals in the Pandaren Empire are luxurious and mesmerizing. Bright fanfare, loud music — good atmosphere in which you can relax.

Masks were the highlight that evening. Whether they are made of paper, fabric or bamboo. Someone did not regret the wooden saucer, cutting out two holes for the eyes. She received her mask as a token of gratitude. A little work and perseverance. She helped the farmer, protected the merchant, brought medicine to the villager. A child came up to her. With a big smile and wide eyes, she held out a bamboo mask. A little sloppy, but made with great diligence and soul. The little pandaren asked to dress her for the festival. And the woman could not help but refuse. She now stands in this mask, wearing a simple green dress. Far from everyone. After tasting alcohol and dancing she wanted to get some fresh air. Take a break.

Behind her back is the joy of the inhabitants, beautiful music, bright atmosphere.

— Fascinating, isn't it? — A quiet voice sounded.

She looked around and saw blonde hair and a neat wood mask painted in various colors.

— Your voice is familiar to me — She smiled and nodded — How can I help?

— It looks like you liked this festival — He came closer and stood beside

— There are many festivals and celebrations in Stormwind, but this is the place where I am amazed at the beauty and simplicity of the pandaren cultures.

— Magic, isn't it? I am glad that I am here in peacetime and can contemplate their life.

�� I thought the King should always be in the castle and only watch his people from afar.

— Sometimes even the Kings need rest. Even if he's on the excuse of "learning about pandaren traditions" — He chuckled and rubbed his neck.

— I'm glad you can take a minute and relax.

They stood in silence for a while. He reached for his mask and ran his hand over it.

— I thought I looked simple enough on my way here. Calling me a lad and offering a drink. What gave me away?

— You’re bad at acting — she shrugged her shoulders — But I did recognize you not for this reason. Did you know that golden hair is very rare?

— Some people have this hair color, so I doubt your words.

— They are just light, but yours give off in gold, is it all about blood?

— S-should I take this a-as a compliment?"

— As you wish — she smiled.

While still touching the mask, he doubted at first, but eventually took it off.

— It's nice to relax for a while.

— Will they not look for you?

— Hopefully my disappearance isn’t noticed so quickly.

They stood side by side, elbows barely touching. Her mask only half covered her face. She was still smiling.

— What makes you happy?

— Nothing.

— Are you sure? You are smiling.

— I know

— Am I funny in your eyes?

— What made you think so? The King of Stormwind quietly went on foot alone into the depths of the city during the festival, where creatures of different races and opinions are located. I’m just smiling.

— Didn't you say earlier that the king spends too much time away from his people? I thought it was a good decision to be closer.

— I do not judge you. Looks like alcohol has clouded my mind and it played a trick on me. I just wanted to have a little fun for myself. Sorry.

— I-I think I should do this more often, worse and worse I distinguish sarcasm.

He waited for her to say something else, but she only let out a small laugh. He felt like a small child. He furrowed his brows.

— What? You are too serious. A little pampering won't hurt.

He wanted to say something else. Something serious that could dispel this situation. He just took a deep breath and relaxed. Wanted to watch. Stay close.

— If you wait a bit, then there will be fireworks. I'm sure it will be exciting.

— I saw them up close when I was a child. I still remember that moment — his hair, tied in a ponytail, flew in the wind

— I never liked fireworks. Noisy, not letting you sleep, too bright.

— But you are waiting for them.

— I just hope they will be different here.

The mask was still in his hand. He decided to examine it in detail.

— Apart from the fact that we are in an open area without an orchestra playing nearby, it looks more like a masquerade ball.

— And there are also beautiful luxurious dresses, many aristocrats and dances.

— Only small conditions and necessity.

— I am an ordinary person, I do not understand this — she shrugged her shoulders and turned to him — It suits you more.

— I received invitations as a teenager, but my dad believed that teaching the future king was a priority.— He put his mask on a small table nearby.

— You are the only heir. I guess that was the reason.

He looked at her.

Her mop of brown hair is braided into a tall, irregular bun. A bright, red, slightly rough mask covering half of her face makes her stand out despite her plain green dress. The smile faded from her face, she turned her gaze to the nature ahead of her. She looks so fragile from the outside. But she can be very emotional, brave. When the sword is in her hand, she waves it left and right to protect her life. Hands are always covered with calluses. Her look is always serious, sometimes frightened. But when there is no sword, she looks calm, happy, peaceful. Sometimes it seems to him that the war does not suit her. He wished she could leave the sword and never take it again. Bruises, cuts, bandages on her body. War does not give a choice and he understands this very well. Who knows what might happen to her. People return from the war either crippled or do not return at all.

— Would you like to go?

— What?

It must sound strange. She is a soldier and serves him body and soul. She saved his life. — Go to the ball?

— Yes.

He wanted her to be able to live a peaceful life at least most of the time. Maybe she must appear more often at festivals, drank in taverns, found friends. She is always sincere when she is not at a war.

— Isn't that for aristocrats? — She grimaced — Well, for politics, intrigue and stuff.

— You helped the Alliance enough to gain status. It would be nice for you to come there once.

He saw her dancing in Elwynn Forest to the song of the minstrel. This wasn’t a waltz, but it was the voice of her body, soul. Sincerely and freely. She may not be blue-blooded, but ...

— You would be beautiful there — escaped from him

The heart made a circle. He said it too unexpectedly. She turned sharply. He is sure that under the mask, there is pure amazement and shock in her eyes.

An image flashed in his head: She slowly descends the stairs. Her long hair ran down her back. Her neck and ears would have jewelry made of topaz to accentuate her eye color. A long coral dress that would have bared her shoulders. Her hands in short gloves were holding the railing. Her gaze would be calm, maybe even she was smiling. He would have held out his hand to accompany her beside her.

Or maybe he will dance with her.

But he guessed in reality she could hide in the shadows part of the time, dressed in a modest but pretty dress. Without stones and ornaments on it. She does not know etiquette, morality, rules.

And she knew it too.

— Anduin — she whispered softly

The girl looked into his eyes. Despite the unexpected announcement, he did not look away. His hand touched her fingers.

— I would like to see you there — he said it as warmly as possible.

She turned her body towards him, not brushing his hand away. She looked a little embarrassed.

— You know how to surprise — she tried to laugh, she tried to translate everything into a joke, but her head is spinning — I ... I don't know what to say. She lowered her gaze, her tight smile, her lips trembling, her breathing ragged. She's not scared.

— Looks like you should spend less time alone. I can still surprise you. He was also on the nerves, but his body did not tremble. He shifted hand from her fingers to her palm, and the other hand went up to touch her face, but stopped in mid—air.

— Do you propose your candidacy? Her hand turned to interlace her fingers with him. The other gingerly took the hand that had been left in the air halfway. — But I don't know etiquette

— I know — He whispered

— I can accidentally be rude — she thought a little

— I know — He smiled

The man touched her face, ran his hand over her cheek and moved her to the mask. The girl did not flinch. Her mask was fragile and the fastening of the mask snapped. The mask no longer held onto her face. He slowly took her off and saw her face. She did not look away and looked at him, completely trusting. He slowly approached her. The mask in his hands slipped off and quietly fell beside him. Her free hand touched his shoulder, ran up to his neck, and lifted up to his low tail, which is secured with a white silk ribbon. They unlocked their hands and the second reached out to the same place.

— Did you know that loose hair suits you?

She reached out and pull the ribbon. Now both of her hands were on his shoulders. He felt that the hair was scratching his nose, maybe tickling his neck. Both of his hands touched her face and dropped to her forearms.

He reached for her. She closed her eyes.

The noise disappeared, as if tens and hundreds of people were silent. A whistle hummed over them. Fireworks flashed in different colors. The bright light blazed, then faded. It didn't look like normal explosions. As if fireworks created forms, constellations, shimmering in different shades. They didn't see it. The kiss was sweet, she smelled of alcohol, although she drank it long ago and managed to sober up. He seemed to be drunk, although he did not drink alcohol for the whole evening and did not taste even a drop. They've lost track of time. They heard the rhythm of each other's heart.

They parted, breathing deeply and slowly. They were silent. He rested his head on her shoulder, inhaling her scent.

He closed his eyes and thought.

"Now my heart is yours"

She didn't move, but she fiddled with the ribbon with her fingertips. Her gaze ran around.

— The mask that you broke was made by a child. It's a pity — She tried to joke and break the silence.

— We missed the fireworks — He raised his head, peering into the sky, parrying — The mask is beautiful

— Was. Maybe there will still be fireworks — She was still looking down

They laughed together. We looked into each other's eyes.

— You like it?

— Wh-what? — He got nervous again and swallowed saliva.

— Hair. They are ruffled. It seems to me that they are beautiful.

— Yes, e-exactly — he started awkwardly — They are long, so I prefer making the tail.

— You’re losing a lot of opportunities

— You have long hair too, but you have it gathered.

— I can dissolve it — she reached for the bun and grabbed the hairpin. He chuckled earnestly. Her hair fell over her shoulders. The hairpin she was holding in her hand she put in the front pocket of his shirt.

— I should go back — He kissed her forehead

— I understand, but for some reason it seems to me that today everything will be good — she put her hand on his chest — But if you insist, can we walk a little? I can smell the food from here. I am paying tonight.

— That would be great. My health is your responsibility.

They took up their masks. He carefully put his back on. She did assess the damage to her mask.

— I think it can be repaired, not scary — She smiled

— Glad to hear that

They nodded to each other. She took his hand and led him towards the crowd.

They spent this evening and night together and became one.

But in the morning she did not see him.

#world of warcraft #imagines warcraft #love story #little story au

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Hi there! Just found your blog and I like it so far. Btw being Present Mics favorite student headcanons were amazing, as a bnha nerd may I request a part 2 where Mic meets readers parents and other stuff? Sorry if my English is bad.

A/N:Thank you so much for liking my blog and choosing to request, that means a whole lot! I got you with the Present Mic headcanons, please let me know if you want any more Present Mic stuff i’m here. I’m sorry this request took so long to come out, i was busy with a few thing please love me

-So i would feel this year would be a lot of fun, just like last year but the only difference being you are working harder towards your hero license and school is becoming much more difficult. This means that you have to up your game with your quirk skills and tactics while staying on top of your studies. You are stressed to say the least.

-Like i said previously present Mic knows when you are having a hard time, believe it or not he is quite attentive and super smart so he quickly asses the situation and realizes a few things. He sees you’re struggling with your quirk and school so he takes matters into his own hands.

-He offers to train you and offers extra help with school to you, he only wants to see you succeed even if that means sacrificing his free time.

-”oh- no no Mr.Hizashi that’s so sweet but i know you’re really busy-”

-”SHHHSHHSHSSJSJ Y/N I SHALL GET YOU THAT HERO LICENSE AND HELP YOU PICK UP YOUR GRADES EVEN IF THAT MEANS RISKING A FEW HOURS OF REST, I CANNOT LOSE TO YAGI AND DEKU- i-i- Mean icareaboutyourhealthandgradesandireallywannahelp”

-tHaT soCCer dAD rIvaLrY iS stiLl haPPeNinG 

-Everyday after school you guys meet up at the park or one of the training centers to train for a few hours

-”Now Y/N, breath in and when you breath out use that force to push your quirk-”

-Honestly you thought the training wouldn’t be as hard as it was (it’s Present Mic after all) but boi were you wrong

-”Get up off the ground Y/N, you’ve only been running for .3 seconds”

-”.3 SeCoNdS????? I DID THREE MILES NONSTOP YaMaDA!”

-” hUstLe y/NnNNnN”

-Aizawa comes to your trainings and observes bEcAusE hEs nOSeYy

-He actually helps out and help with things present might not have thought of or isn’t the best at

-This year your relationship with Present actually takes a deeper turn, you find yourself around him more often both in school and after school. You both learn more about each other's quirks and personalities a lot more.

-You thought you already knew a lot about him, given he was like an open book it seemed. But Hizashi is a much deeper and emotional person than you honestly thought and he truly had such a more serious, kindred spirited side to him

-Like sometimes when you guys are taking a break from training he will open up about his life at UA and how it was for him. He told you how he felt kind of odd and awkward and how that’s probably why he can relate to you so so much uwu

-”You know Y/N as much I am super bubbly and “overly confidant” , i still feel super out of place sometimes. I guess i always have it isn’t a new feeling, although I have Aizawa and the other teachers, sometimes I still feel...not understood? If that makes any sense?? But like I totally understand how you feel, and you are not alone...seriously. Thank you for being open to me and allowing me to teach and train you. Kind of makes me feel wanted and useful..haha-”

-iM sOft 

-He always thought of you as a little “sidekick” however recently he kind of looks at you as his own daughter and he’s really protective and fatherly over you. He’s more on top of you and making sure all your ducks are in a row. He’s not controlling or anything like that tho so don’t worry

-”Did you eat yet, Y/N?”

-”are you okay Y/N? You look exhausted.”

-”make sure you finish that report for class, okay? If you need any help let me know.”

-pRotEccS yOu fRom bOys

-If he sees a teacher kind of poking at you and making you feel uncomfortable or feel bad for being a “teacher's pet” he will immediately have them stop. He feels bad you have to get crap from him being a bit biased towards you

-You guys have a secret handshake

-HE’S STILL THE BIGGEST cRacK hEAd I swEar

-*crushes you in a hug* “MISS. AMERICAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WHAAATtattatSSSSSs UpPPPPPPPPPPPp”

-”YO Yo yO AMERiCaAAaAAAA HOw Is IT CrACkINGGGG”

-”YNNNNNNNNN AMErIcAAAA YoUU foRgoT yoUr lUnCH Box iN mY cLaSS *whispers* i put a donut in there for you”

-USES YOU FOR ENGLISH CONVERSATION EXAMPLES IN CLASS ALL THE TIME 

-HE EMBArASSES YOU SO MUCH ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY THIS DUDE NEEDS TO SIT TF DOWN AND LET YOU LIVE POOR GIRL

-It’s okay because he lets you skip class to pass out in the library after being exhausted from everything

-You take his weird sunglasses and strut around with them all the time

-”BlUghH I’m a rich fashion model. WAIT OMG HIZASHI ARE THESE CHILDREN SIZED GLASsES?!?!”

-EmaiLS yOU

-” ohiyo americAa,

It’s me MiC and iM waTchING tHat drAmaA you recommended to me and Im cRyING. Also i heard from the sleepy teacher that there may or may not be a pop quiz in his class on last weeks topic...Anyways I’ll see you tomorrow...unless...Nah just joking okay mic is out!

                                    -Hiz

                              sEnt fRom ToaSter oVeN”

-You get about ten of these things a week from him. help this poor man ;-;

-Made a few youtube videos with him

-He helped you pick out your hero name and outfit, you are so ready to be a hero i swear

-Once you do get your hero license..he is such big boi proud like he’s in tears, snot running out his nose, eyes all puffy and his voice is cracking. He even got you a little teddy bear with a little candy bag attached to it.

-”LOOK LOOOK MR.HIZASHIIIII LOOOK I GOT IT I FINALLY GOT IT THANK YOU SO SO MUCH HIZASHIII I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH THANK YOU”

-”See kiddo, i knew you could do it!”

-” Pfft all thanks to you!! Oh and Hey, Mr.Hizashi? My parent(s) are coming up this weekend to celebrate me getting my license. I was wondering if you would like to come to dinner? They’d like to personally thank you for helping me.”

-THIS MAN IS THE UTMOST HONORED LIKE LET ME TELL YOU HE SAYS YES IN A HEARTBEAT AND IS AT THE RESTAURANT ON LITERAL TIME

 -He somes in a very nice suit with his hair tied into a perfectly neat bun. And is thAT GLasses he’s wearing??????  (so cute omg)

-Him meeting your parent(s) was a pretty chill experience 

-”Mr.Hizashi, right? SO NIce to finally meet you and thank you for everything you have done for Y/N.”

-”Ah, it was my pleasure. And please, call me Yamada.”

-At first it was kind of awkward but once the conversation got going, you guys were there for hours

-and i mean HoURs

-”um excuse mE, wHen aRe yoU gUyS lIkE idk LEAVING???”

-Haha but no, the literal talk was just them hyping you up and how the waiter dramatically fell coming over to the table

-”yeS Y/N is such a great kid i can’t believe you raised such a strong and patient daughter”

-”Did he just trip and act like he didn’t just dropped our food on the ground??”

-”One time Y/N tripped and dropped her easy bake cookies and she didn’t even cry, that’s when we knew she was going to be a pro hero.”

-”did he step on the fries and up it on the plate and try to serve it to us???”

-Also your parent(s) grew up around the same time as Present so they had a lot to talk about and it was interesting learning about each other different childhoods and cultures.

-Your parent(s) seriously enjoyed Hizashi and they would love to talk to him again. Vise versa, it was a great time for Hizashi as well and prepare to hear about it the next time you see him.

-”Thank you Y/N for inviting me and allowing me to meet your parent(s) it was very nice getting to know them. Next time they come up, I must treat them out instead.”

BonUs

-Let’s just make up a different scenario where maybe your parents were kind of rude and not as nice and welcoming, both to you Yamada

-When you heard your parents were coming up to visit you in Japan, you were at first excited. You were still in this frenzy of like “wow i got my hero license” so you weren't thinking about it too much plus you were excited about being treated out to dinner and having your favorite teacher tag along. 

-Everything was great...that was until you started to think about it more and started to question was that such a great idea?? Let’s just say your parents aren’t the nicest people (person). For some reason it seems like they were never proud of you, no matter how well or bad you literally did. 

-Won a championship game? Eh good, but could be better

-4.00 GPA? That’s okay but thousand of kids get that, you have to do better.

-You want to be a pro hero?? Ha in your dreams, that kid next door has a better chance of becoming one than you do.

-You started to realise they were one of the biggest reasons you wanted to exchange to Japan so much. It was far away from them and super peaceful. You wanted to tell Present to not come, but he seemed so excited, and you wanted to tell him how dreaded your parents were. But you didn’t want him to worry and get others involved. So you just hoped and prayed that they would be nice? And everything was okay?

-Everything was okay...for the first five minutes. 

-Well everyone greeted each other and sat down to eat, then the condescending comments started to pour in.

-”Yeah, well I think Y/N will make a perfect Hero in the near future. She’s gotten a lot stronger with her quirk and-”

-”Pfft, let’s not get ahead of ourselves now, Although Y/N has gotten her License that doesn’t mean she’s hero material. We watched the sports festival and compared to the other students, she’s severely overshinned. I just don’t think a year or so of training can fix that. She has to do better.”

-For a second hizashi just sat there with his face utter disbelief. How could someone just say that about their child...in front of their child...so camly?

-He looked over towards your uncomfortable figure, your face was colored with complete dismay, He felt so sad and slightly angry. You didn’t look in a position to defend yourself so he started to speak up for you

-”I really hope the both of you are seriously joking.” he snapped back with a sassy firm tone in his voice which made you look towards the three adults

-”No we are not, Y/N is pretty average and for you to put in her head that she could possibly become a Pro? Haha I understand teachers are supposed to be supportive but like come on now, just be honest with yourself.”

-Hizashi slammed his hands against the table, gaining the attention of everyone in the restaurant, including yourself who was previously looking down to avoid confrontation.

-”How DARE you. Y/N is PERFECTLY  CAPABLE of becoming a hero, her quirk,skills, technique and intelligence is all was stronger than you can even imagine. Do not downgrade her just because you’re too idiotic and narrowminded to see that. She is the sweetest kid I have ever met and quite frankly the purest. Disgusting how you talk about your own child like that. AND IN FRONT OF HER?? Now with all due respect, I think you guys need to do a self reflection and change the wrongs you have within you. If you need any help i don't mind emailing you a list of things.”

-SKSKSKSKSKSKS WOT???? DID MR.HIZASHI THE ALWAYS HAPPY AND CRACKHEADY TEACHER JUST PUT YOUR PARENTS IN THEIR PLACE???? IN FRONT OF A WHOLE RESTURANT??? BEST. TEACHER. EVER.

-on you still wore an embarrassed kind or dismayed face and when Present say that. hE tHoUghT yOU wErE eIthER mAd oR sCaREd oF Him. cri

-In reality you were literally so joyful and happy. LIKE DUUUDEEE. MARRY ME LOLOL. Seriously you were super thankful that he did that for you. 

-He looked around and suddenly realised that all eyes were on him. Aww poor man felt so flustered he didn’t mean to make a fuss and disturb others, he was just so angry your parents were such a*ssholes. 

-He turned to you and bowed while simply muttering “I’m sorry Y/N”, then grabbed his coat and walked out.

-Without even thinking you jumped up and rushed out the door with him, leaving your dumbfounded parents at the restaurant

-”m-Mr.Hizashi wait up!”  you called out from behind the blonde haired man, he stopped in his tracks then pivoted in place to face you

-”y/n im very sorry to you and your family i didn’t mean any disrespect. I understand if you may not want to be around me any more or allow me to train you.”

-”ARE YOU SERIOUS THAT WAS EPIC LIKE SERIOUSLY THEY HAVE BEEN DOING THIS SINCE I CAn rEMEBER I SWEAR YOU ARE SO AWESOME MRHIZASHI THANK YOU THANK YOU LIKE YOU’RE THE DAD I ALWAYS WANTED I FREAKING LOVE YOU AND DID YOU SEE THEIR FACES HAHA BOOM I CAN'T BELIEVE IT TELL ME I-”

-cutting you off from your frenzy and gave you a big bear hug, “haha don’t ever let what they have said about you ever ring in your head...okay L/N? I belive in you and i know you are going to be fucking great.”

-”Really?” you smiled

-”HECK YEAHHHHH, AMERICAAAAAA” 

#bnha #bnha deku #bnha all might #BNHA Headcanons #bnha teachers #hizashi yamada x reader #hizashi yamada #yamada hizashi #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #mha x reader #mha #present mic #present mic x reader #bnha present mic #bnha aizawa #aizawa shouta #eraserhead #would include #dating #dating senarios #Headcanon #headcanons #headcannons #headcanon meme #present mic headcanon #oneshot #anime #amine hcs #deku

[afy2018]

A New Legend

Harsh wind swept through the air in loud gusts, kicking up clouds that rolled over the desert in a grainy fog. A human trudged alone through the cool air, a bag strapped across her chest and her face completely covered with goggles over her eyes. Her terrain coloured clothes whipped and flapped in the high winds. She stopped and tightened her belt for the fifth time that hour while her goggles got clouded over again. This planet was unforgiving but it was home for her, a decrepit haven for criminals and outcasts. No real names here, not even to trusted employers such as her own at the Tosche Station or Chalmun's Cantina. Sometimes she didn’t really even know her name. Better for her though, safety for an unlucky descendant of the Mandalorian Knight, Dorjander Kace.

Sara held her saber close to her heart, walking to Mos Eisley for work again. She came up to the residences on the outskirts of the town. Maybe she could get some food from Mick and Leo while she had time. They usually spent a lot of time in Mos Eisley, a secret home away from home for them. She wiped the sand from her goggles again as she neared the matmatas. She glanced at the house numbers, searching for the correct address before rapping on the wooden door marked 30. A large rugged man opened the door with a wide grin when he realized who was standing before him. He yanked her in by the collar.

“Where have you been?” Mick asked.

“Working,” she laughed, removing her goggles and mask.

“Luckily we don’t have to clean up after you,” Leo joked from the doorway. “Here for another refill?”

“And to catch up. I’m not that much of a freeloader,” Lance sighed pulling her hair back into a neat bun.

“You should really settle down, find a friend to share with while you’re working,” Mick suggested, searching for some older rations that had to go.

“Then I’d have to actually spend my money on food and shelter.”

“See, you really are a freeloader,” Snart confirmed with a side smirk. “So where are you coming from?”

“Jabba’s Palace.”

“Again?”

“He’s just needing someone to smuggle droid parts onto Tatooine from… Naboo, I think. I’ve just been going from here to his palace for the… fourth time. What have you been doing?”

“The usual. Stealing droids and fixing them before resell. Makes good money.”

“Here,” Mick cut in, holding a bag of food. “Some dewback jerky, hubba bread, and the rest of our womp rat soup -which I would eat first.” He nodded handing the bag to her.

“What would I do without you guys.”

“Get food from someone else, I would assume” Leo considered. “Now go on your merry little way, bother another bounty hunter.”

“Wait, come on, I haven’t seen you guys in months. How’s it going with Ray?”

“Great, really. Kind of weird,” he began.

“He means that he’s deep in love and doesn’t know how to act,” Mick explained with a playful nudge to the ribs.

“Okay, that’s enough. What about you and that guy. The rich boy?”

“Oliver? Nothing. I don’t see him. I moved on to this other girl, but she’s too busy with her family’s business to have any sort of relationship.”

“We should tell her,” Mick broke in.

His partner side-eyed him, “Why did you make it sound so ominous?”

“Tell me what?” Sara asked.

“There’s a large group of people who are getting together in secret trying to overthrow the Empire. You know, the Sith. They’ve been coming here to recruit as many people as they can. Apparently, there have been some older kids joining. We’ve been thinking of going as well.”

“I never would’ve thought that you’d be part of a rebellion.”

“I’m not usually serious, but life is only so long, Sara. We need to do something with it before we die. This is way bigger than us, bigger than everyone. It’s important,” Leo tried to convince her, crossing his arms and grabbing a medallion from his pocket. He glanced down at it and sighed before looking up at Sara. “Now, I know that you may not care, but by next month, Mick, Ray and I will be gone.”

“So this is goodbye?”

“Hopefully not, but maybe.”

Sara nodded and hugged Leo and Mick. “You guys have been like brothers to me. You saved me and brought me here. I’m so glad that I got to meet you two. Thank you.”

“I hope we see each other again, and that this isn’t really goodbye.”

Lance nodded and turned away. “I’ll think about it.”

“If you change your mind, they’re planning to come back by the end of the year.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “Well, I’m going to the cantina to get a drink, you wanna join?”

“Of course, but you’re buying.”

“My treat then.”

~

Music blared from the stage as the musicians in the corner livened up the dark room. Aliens of various races drank and talked at the bar, the table, or against the wall. People walked in and out, checking and stealing from one another as they passed by. It was shady and suspicious, but it was home for these people, she guessed. Maybe hold her belongings a bit closer. That’ll work, hopefully. The foreigner warily approached the bar, not that she really tried to fit in anyway. With her hair tied back in a tight bun, and in traditional garb to protect her skin. She rapped on the bar and waited for the bartender to turn around. He glanced at her, looking her up and down before nodding.

“Tatooine Sunset.”

He grunted in response and filled a glass with the sweet liquor. He slid it over to her, waiting for her to pay him before letting go of the glass.

“So what’s your name sweetie?” A young Rodian asked in his native tongue.

She smirked at the alien and chuckled “Yeah I’m too old for you, tyke.”

“Just tell me your name.”

“Ava.”

“Beautiful. I’m Greedo.”

“Well, Greedo, while I’d like to sit and chat, I don’t have a lot of time to… play,” she smiled. “Sorry.”

Greedo cocked his head to the side, turning away to a corner where a few other shady aliens sat. Ava watched him talk with his friends. She shook her head with a slight grin and went back to her drink. A hand roughly grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. The alien garbled at her in a foreign language that she couldn’t really comprehend. Ava turned back to her drink, finishing it in a swift tilt of the glass. A young humanoid alien tapped her on the shoulder.

“He doesn’t like you,” he explained.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized with a scoff.

He clutched her arm, yanking her back into the conversation. “I don’t like you either. Don't insult us,” he warned her, tightening his grip on her arm. “You just watch yourself. We're wanted men. I have a death sentence in twelve systems,” he bragged.

“I’ll be careful then,” she smirked in annoyance and turned away to end the conversation.

“You’ll be dead!” he hissed with a vicious grin.

Another human quickly walked between them. She pressed her hand against Ava’s shoulder to nudge her away. “This little one isn't worth the effort. Let me buy you something-”

The alien shoved the human into Ava and whipped out his blaster. Ava reached for the lightsaber at her hip. The blonde looked at her and put her hand over the weapon.

“You can’t use that here,” she warned her.

“No blasters! No blasters!” The bartender exclaimed.

The two aggressive aliens turned away and walked out of the bar. Ava turned to the blonde and smiled.

“Thank you.”

“It was nothing. You’re not the only tourist I’ve had to save. Tatooinians don’t really like… us. In fact, most people don’t trust us or anyone who wields a weapon such as yours. You have to be very careful,” she explained in a hushed tone. “So obviously you’re not from here. Where are you from?”

“Nowhere you know.”

“Try me.”

“Is that common here, bar fights?” Ava asked switching subjects.

“Of course. You’re most definitely not from here. Tatooine is a very shady place. People are always fighting. Honestly, I’d be suspicious if an hour went by without a fight,” Sara smiled. “Well, hey, if you’re not too busy, my friends and I are having a quick drink. Wanna join?”

“... Why not,” Ava nodded.

“Great,” Sara smiled, sliding back over to her friends. “This is Leo, Mick, and I’m Sara.”

“Hi, Ava,” she greeted them.

Leo smiled and drank from his tall glass, leaning against the bar. “So what brings you to Tatooine? Obviously not the weather or people.”

“Just a new adventure.”

“Well, you must live on the wild side then if this feels like an adventure and not just a death sentence.”

“Don’t mind his sarcasm, here, have this,” Sara offered, sliding her drink to Ava.

“What is this?”

“Bantha Blaster” she smiled.

“What does it taste like?”

“Sweet and fizzy,” Leo explained. “They drink it all the time.”

“I swear by it,” Lance grinned, leaning towards Ava as she ordered another drink.

Ava sniffed the drink; Endor, she thought, it reminded her of Endor. She inhaled and took a swig from the pink and green liquor. The bubbly concoction fizzed and popped on her tongue before a very sweet sugary sensation coated her taste buds. It burned at first, but then warmed her throat and became tart at the end. Ava coughed at first, and chuckled, shaking her head.

“A little strong?” Sara asked.

“Yeah, but good. It’s a very fun drink.” Ava smiled, covering her mouth. “So you’re from this area?”

“Not really. I’ve spent the past six years here, but I’m originally from a different planet.”

Leo leaned over to Sara, whispering to her. “You know, it’s great to see you head over heels. I haven’t seen you reveal this much since we met.”

“What are you talking about?”

He pulled back, turning to Mick. “I think we should go back home. We need to get packed.”

“Leo,” Sara called.

“I know, but we must go. See you ‘round, little canary,” he teased on his way out of the cantina.

“Mick!”

“Gotta go.”

Sara huffed as she watched her friends leave, shaking her head and downing the Bantha Brew. Ava also finished her drink and cleared her throat.

“Well, I’m glad that we had this time to talk. Sorry for driving your friends away-”

“Huh? Don’t worry about them, Leo’s just weird like that. You know, I can always show you around Mos Eisley if you have time.”

“Yeah, why not.”

After they escaped the cantina, Sara pulled off to an alley to her guest’s concern. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to out you for having that,” she gestured to her saber. So, how did you get your hands on such archaic tech?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You can’t hide it from me, I literally saw you almost whip that thing out in a Post-Empire Tatooine. This is their playground. Did you at least bring a blaster?”

“Yes, I guess it’s just a force of habit.”

“Was that a pun?”

“Huh, oh Force, ha, no,” she chuckled.

“You’re an intriguing sort, Aves, but you’ll be dead in ten minutes with that thing strapped to you.”

“Well, no offense, but I’m not going to hand this over to you.”

“I understand, just try not to reach for it unless you’re in deep trouble.”

“Now for that tour, you promised me?”

“Oh yeah, of course. Follow me.”

~

Hours seemed to pass in minutes to Ava, she had never met anyone like her. There was something about her, the mysterious way that she knew everyone and yet they never revealed her true name. Sara wasn’t offended by it and only laughed, responding with a variety of sarcastic phrases. She felt the end of this journey with her new companion nearing as the suns set, finally cooling the air again. Ava sat on the edge of a short wall dividing a stretch of road that was secluded from the main streets while Sara watched the citizens pass them by. The few people who did pass by seemed focused on other things like surviving or thriving in this city.

“You know, I really don’t know much about you, Little Canary,” Ava admitted.

Sara sat down next to her, shrugging, and looked her in the eye. “No need to. We don’t need to know everything to respect one another, just enough to understand.”

Sara turned to her and pursed her lips. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head before she fell to the ground. Ava rushed to her before feeling electricity stun her. Her body tensed as she dropped to the sandy ground. A pair of feet approached her before reaching down and pulling her up by the collar. A pair of pink eyes glared at her, their smile revealed a set of sharp teeth behind thin lips. It sighed and whispered something to someone behind them.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was dark - Lance thought as she woke up - pitch-black and empty. She heard the sound of shuffling feet nearby. Sara shifted to her knees, focusing the Force to her sight. It felt nearly impossible, years had passed, repressing her powers to stay alive, but in a moment like this, anything was game. She looked around the room, flickering between her force sight and the darkness that suffocated her. She spotted someone with her, crawling to the wall to get up. Their heart pounded in fear and familiar clanking meant that they were sporting a pair of handcuffs. Sara carefully got to her feet and neared them. She held out her hands, reaching for the other prisoner before making contact and clutching on to their shoulder.

“Who are you?” she whispered. “Ava?”

“Sharpe,” they responded. “I’m Ava Sharpe.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Good,” Sara nodded, her response more of a note to herself than to be comforting to Ava. She sat beside her, “Why do I recognize that name?”

“I’ve probably shown up for a bounty a few times.”

“That’s it! Wait, why? You seem like the kind of person who’d follow the rules to the T.”

“A prude?”

“... Kinda… yeah.”

“Most people say that,” Sharpe sighed. Gripping Sara’s hand, she continued, “I’m- I was- a guard for those who remained of the Jedi Order.”

“What’d you do?”

“I… abandoned my post and may have been spotted by the Empire. I’ve been trying to hide for a year now. Do you know where we are?”

“No, I can’t see a damn thing.”

“The last thing I saw was a scary looking guy. It had pink eyes and… waxy skin. There was this tentacle thing wrapped around his neck. He looked like a demon,” she almost shivered.

“What about his teeth?”

“Sharp, almost like a monster.”

“I think I know who it was. And with that, welcome to Jabba’s Palace,” Sara sighed.

Light began to flood from the ceiling. Sara shielded her eyes from the brightness and took a step in front of Ava. Once the pit was fully open, Sara looked up, meeting the smirk of Bib and Jabba as well as the prying eyes of other bounty hunters and guests.

She chuckled and shook her head, “Hey, Jabba! How ya doin’ buddy?”

“Lance, sa i fun gee cheekta down ya?” The Hutt asked with a bellowing laugh.

“He does remember my name,” Sara shrugged.

“Who is that?” Ava asked.

“That is Jabba the Hutt, these are his goons, and this is his pit.”

“His pit?”

“Greedo has doe bounty che cheekta.”

“Well, I found her fair and square, Greeds, I think she’s technically mine,” Sara charmed to no avail.

“You stole her!” he yelled down into the pit.

“Okay, fine, I’ll back off. Just give me a moment” Sara sighed, turning to Ava. “A moment, to meld.”

“Me-”

Sara swiftly grabbed Ava’s jaw in her hands and kissed her.

‘Ava, focus.’ A voice echoed in her head. ‘A monster will come out. We have our sabers, we can take it down.’

Sara pulled away, nodding to Ava. She twisted on her heels and shrugged to Jabba.

“Now what? You gonna help me out?”

Jabba let out another bellowing chortle and tapped Bib on the shoulder. The pale alien smiled and went out of view. A gate behind them raised with a deafening creak. Ava reached for Sara’s hand, grabbing her saber with the other. She switched it on, the two golden blades whirring and burning the dusty air. Sara let go of Ava’s hand and grabbed her double-sided saber and disconnected them before turning them on, a thin orange blade coming out of the one side and a blood red blade out of the other.

“What, did you steal those?” Ava asked as the monster stepped out.

“Only if illegal mining is stealing.”

“Practically the definition,” she joked with a side glance at her guide.

Sara got into a ready stance, a slightly familiar surge of focused adrenaline running in her blood. She felt her breathing slow and her sensitivity heighten, feeling the beast’s heartbeat pounding in her chest. A oneness with her ally who road the same aura as her. Ava whirled her staff in a neon blur, a flourish to intimidate as they stared down their opponent.

The monster roared and shook its head, the rolls of skin shifting and stretching with spikes poking through while its muscles flexed in anticipation.

Sara sprinted up to the monster, sliding under at the last moment to slice its leg. Ava pulled the beast close and held out her saber like a spear to stab it. It screamed and slapped her away, sending her across the pit and flat into a wall.

Lance slipped behind it, running up the wall and using the solid dirt to leap onto its back. She stuck her blade surely through the spine and slid down, red blood leaking and coagulating around the wound.

The beast shrieked again, collapsing to the ground and pawing at its assailants. Sara walked up to the face and forced her saber through their eye, watching it scream and writhe on the ground. Its final breath caught in the back of their throat.

“New record?!” she called up to Jabba, but the gawking group of hedonists was gone. Sara growled and ran to Ava, turning off the sabers and attaching them before holstering it and kneeling down to her. Although she wasn’t bleeding, she was still probably injured. “Ava, you okay?”

“Yeah,” she groaned while struggled she to sit up. Ava took her hand and stood up, leaning against Sara.

“Let’s get out of here,” Sara suggested and earned an exhausted nod.

They walked through the gate, a dark corridor greeting them until it suddenly lit up, leading a way to the stables. They could hear the distant calls of captive animals.

Ava straightened her back but continued to lean against Sara. “Why’d you kiss me?” she inquired. “Melding doesn’t even require touch.”

“I just… I thought…”

“I don’t mind, just wanted to know why.”

“Oh… it just felt right.”

“It felt right?”

“Look, I’m sorry if that’s not how you go, I just needed anything to get you off your mark.”

“I never said I didn't like it.”

“Well, it was implied.”

Ava grabbed Sara’s collar and pulled her close, kissing her gently. She slid her hand up her throat, tucking her fingers behind her ear before finishing their moment with a peck on the cheek.

“What was implied there?” Ava asked.

“That you are very interested,” she blushed, biting her lip. “We should go, come on.”

She took Ava’s hand and rushed down the long hallway to the open desert. Sharpe tugged on her shirt and pointed to a landspeeder.

“Quicker transport.”

“We may have gotten stuck here because of you, but I’m so glad we met,” Sara prodded while they sprinted to the vehicle.

“Did I at least make your day a bit more exciting?” Ava asked, limping behind Sara with a hand pressed against her ribs.

“Oh yes.”

Sara opened up the hatch, trying to hotwire the speeder as Ava climbed in. Grunting quickly filled the halls as twenty gamorreans ran down the hallway.

“Um, would you mind hurrying up, Sara?”

“Really, what seems to be the problem?” she sarcastically jibed.

“The guards.”

“I know,” Sara sighed, sitting up.

“What are you doing? Keep working!”

“It’s done.”

“Drive, they’re getting into some speeders.”

“Shit,” Sara cursed, starting up their land speeder.

“Go!”

“I know!” Sara yelled, speeding off. She grabbed her blaster and shoved it into Ava’s chest. “Take aim.”

Sharpe huffed and aimed the gun on the back of her headrest, shooting at a guard and knocking him off the bike. She aimed at another, getting the gas tank and watching it slow down and leak out in the sand. Ava pointed her blaster at another bike closing in on them. The guard shot at their speeder, catching the headrest, barely missing Ava’s shoulder. Ava force pushed the bike away, making it tumble away in the sand and blow up. She sat back down in her seat and regarded the dry terrain.

“Where are we going?”

“Mos Eisley, we need to meet up with Mick and Leo.”

“Why?”

“They’re leaving soon. So, I was thinking that maybe we can bum a ride.”

“Well, where are they going?”

“They’re joining the Rebel Alliance.”

“I’ve heard of them. Wait, they work closely with the Jedi.”

“Then we’ll protect you,” Sara promised, looking into Ava’s dark eyes. “I promise. You’re one of us now.”

“What do you think of the cause?”

“I’m game for anything that means I can escape this place. I’m past this point in my life.”

Sara brought her hand under Ava’s chin and pulled her in for a brief kiss before focusing back on the road.

“We pledge out property, our honor, and our lives.”

“Long live the Rebels.”

#legends of tomorrow #legends of tomorrow fanfic #Avalance #Ava Sharpe #Sara Lance #Lgbt #Fanfic #femslash #wlw #sfw #sfw fanfic #Jedi #grey jedi #gray jedi #star wars #starwars #au #star wars au

[eugenesmorphine]

Bar Fight // A Joe Liebgott Imagine

Tag List: @alienoresimagines

Warnings: Swearing, fighting

   As I worked at Camp Toccoa in order to get my Jump Wings, being the only woman was not as easy as I thought it would. I was placed within Easy Company, and most of the men seemed nice. In the beginning of me arriving at the camp, most of the men didn't really know what to think of me. They didn't talk to me all that much, and some of them pulled the sexism card where they would make jokes or poke fun when we were doing PT or doing obstacle courses. Though, as soon as they realized how I just wanted to do my part in the war like they did, and that I was just as dedicated as they were. They began to warm up to me. And soon they started welcoming me more and more through time. I was just as strong as the other men that filled this camp. I might be smaller than most men and I might be a woman, but I made sure it was known by all in Camp Toccoa that I was capable of anything. And my gender meant nothing. I wished to be treated the same. Of course, men from other companies didn't get that hint, or they simply didn't want to. Especially Dog Company. Who just loved to shout comments whenever they see me with the rest of Easy Company. Though, I tried to not let it get to me. They were just dumb, opinionated men that were just mad they couldn't get in my pants. That's all.

   I got close with all of Easy Company. They all became like my big brothers. Besides the point that it took about a month and a half for them to even to consider getting to know me. Though, later is better than never right? They all meant well, and it was funny how the protected me at times. Especially my close friend Joe Leibgott. Him and I got the closest out of everyone. Probably because both us soon to be Paratroopers were the more fired up and witty of the company. And that is basically how we became friends. He made a comment to me about being a woman and when I turned around and gave back the exact same energy, he gave me a slight shocked expression. But that led to a smile forming on his face which he then introduced himself. And from then on, our bond began to blossom. And now, Joe and I were inseparable. Two peas in a pod pretty much. 

  Joe was always there with me. And if someone was looking for me, they would just ask where Joe was. Or vice versa. The company knew about how close we were and often teased us about it. Saying that we might as well dated already. I would be lying if I said I didn't at least have a little feelings for Mr. Leibgott. I mean, with how close we have been for some time now, it isn't all that big of a surprise. I mean, have you seen the man? He was extremely attractive none the least. Though, when the guys made those jokes, I just laughed them off. Pushing the secret wishes that those jokes would become reality into the back of my head. There was no space for falling in love and getting into a relationship here. We are in the middle of a war! So I just kept the feelings to myself and no one else.

   Though, there was just one person that knew my feelings for Joseph. Mr. Denver Randleman. Or Bull. The rather large man was actually quite sweet and I would say my second best friend in the company. In which i told him everything. I mean, I also tell Joe everything, but I'm not trying to tell him my feelings. When I told Bull he wasn't really surprised, but in a way he was. All the time I just pushed the jokes aside and laughed them off. Never acting defensive or anything. And it seemed that I was just best friends with Joseph. Though, Bull, along with many other of the Easy Company men, believed that it would be just a matter of time until one of fell for one another. And it seems it would just so happen to be me. And on another note, I am much better at hiding my emotions than I thought. I knew Bull would never say anything. But, I knew he would tease me and poke fun when he got the chance. Especially behind Joe's back just to get me all flustered. It was okay though. I knew he meant no harm by it and it was just in good fun.

///

  Time passed, maybe about a few months or so. The companies had been jointed together in a large bar. We all were on our weekend passes. It was nice, were all in our dress green uniforms, looking nice. I wish I was given the pants like all the men had. I was given a form fitting pencil skirt and pair of black pumps along with my blazer and dress shirt. My hair done in neat curls instead of a tight bun. Blush, mascara, and red lipstick is what I chose for makeup. i felt nice and clean, and of course, the flirtatious comments from many men came from it but oh well. Most of the time, the men of Easy Company, especially Joe, shooed them off before I needed to step in. I didn't mind the guys doing that for me. It saved me the time and energy. Though, the men knew, if I ended up having to say something, it would be over for said person.

  After a couple hours of drinking and chatting about. Some men were dancing with dates they found within the bar, whilst I sat at the bar talking from a few men. I was a little sad in all honesty. As I looked out onto the dance floor, I wished I was being asked to dance by a certain somebody. And that certain some body was out on the other side of the bar, flirting with some blond haired girl. She wore a beautiful dress that I wished to wear instead of this uniform. The woman was stunning, and it definitely did a number on my self-esteem and confidence. I couldn't be upset though, Joseph Leibgott wasn't mine to keep, and it was clear he didn't reciprocate the emotions I felt towards him. So, there wasn't much to do but hurt in silence and drink.

  I kept glancing over at the two and each time it broke my heart even farther. Why was I doing this to myself? Why was I repeatedly looking over at the man I had strong feelings for sit and flirt with another woman? Watching him smirk and eye her up and down truly hurt the most. Especially when he led her onto the dance floor and he pulled the blonde close and wrap his hands around her hims tightly. I just continued watching in such pain. I just couldn't tear my eyes away. No one was around me, so I guess there was nothing better to do. I clutched my drink, tight enough I feared it would break. When I watched him put her forehead on hers and his hands traveled down her back and grab onto her bottom. That's when I just turned away quickly, tears coming to my eyes. I just needed to compose myself and I could probably excuse myself to just walk out of the bar and go do something else. Anything was better than watching Joe in that moment. 

  I took a few shaky breaths as I sipped my beer. Why was a drinking such a masculine drink? Why not something fruity and looked pretty when I would hold it in my head. I didn't have my nails done, it was a surprise that my hands were so clean like they were now. Now, I was getting trapped within my thoughts. I gulped as the poor self images bounced around my mind. What was wrong with me? Why didn't Joe choose me to dance with? I just sighed as I was able to force down the hard feeling in my throat and blink away the tears that sat in my eyes. I downed the rest of my drink and felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Bull. I gave him a weak smile and I watched his head turn to see Joe. I saw him close his eyes and sigh, shaking his head. He knew right away. Bull looked back at me, a sincere look rested on his features as his large hand rubbed my shoulder. 

  "I'm sorry darling," was all Bull said and I looked down. Letting out a sad chuckle. I took his hand in mine and removed it from my shoulder, placing it down on the bar. I looked up at him and I just nodded a little bit. I just placed some money on the counter for my drinks and began walking out. I turned my head to look at Bull for a moment.

  "It's alright Bull, I should've known it would be too good to be true. I mean, who would want just a grubby old female Paratrooper," I said sadly before turning back around. I went to walk out of the little dive bar. I didn't even look back at Joe, I didn't even say goodbye to anyone, I just wanted out of the damn bar. Though, nothing could be easy ever could it? Right as I went to step on the open door, I felt a grasp on my waist. I was turned right around and pulled into the hold of some random man from Dog Company. His face was familiar, but I didn't believe I personally knew the man. His voice wreaked of the stench of cheap whiskey, beer, and cigarettes. I felt a gag come up from my throat and I just kept it down by swallowing. I came him an awkward smile while trying to pry myself out of the man's grasp.

  "Aw come on baby, you must be desperate for some loving," The Paratrooper slurred. I cringed slightly at his odd words and I just couldn't figure out words to respond to it. So, instead I just kept trying to squirm away. Though, it only responded with the man's grip on my waist to get tighter. Now I was beginning to get frustrated. "Aw don't try to act all tough woman on me now sweets. You know you woman aren't all that tough so don't keep trying to lie yourself and others. Now, why don't you do what woman are made for and please the men," He said as he reached down and grabbed my ass, hard enough it would possibly leave a bruise. After the drunk finished his nonsense, I was fuming. I had already been more than upset before, and this pushed me over the edge. 

  I used all the force in my body and shove the man's hands off of my bottom and push him away. My face turned red with anger as my chest heaved. Hair fell in front of my face but I didn't bother moving it. I brought my hand up above my head and swung it. An extremely loud smack rang out throughout the small inside of the bar. I lowered my now stinging hand as I stared at the red faced man. I watched as his face snapped to the right harshly from the force I had slapped him. He brought his hand up to the now bright red hand print where I slapped his cheek. I felt the eyes of everyone on me. I just kept my focus on the man in front of me and breathed heavily. The anger still not leaving, seeming only to rise. I didn't even realize Joe pushing himself to the front of the ground in order to see what the commotion was.

  "Don't you ever touch me again like that you filthy hound! No wonder why you are in Dog Company! I might be a woman, but I will not be toyed with! I work just as hard as the rest of you men and probably harder since I constantly have to deal with the sexist bullshit you men are always throwing at me! And i am not going to just sit and let my friends protecting me anymore! I am a woman, and I am damn proud of it," I yelled. Stepping closer to the man and pointing my finger into his chest and backing him into a wall. The look on his face said it all. Though the look on his face quickly faded from shock into pure drunken rage. Though, I stood my ground.

  "You are just a little hussy that wanted to get with all the men. We have all heard the rumors of you sleeping around with all the men in your company you little skank! So don't blow a fuse when we see straight through you. The German's are going to eat your lunch," He spoke. His words slurred heavily as he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. With those words, the men of Easy rushed over to lay into the man for saying such comments. My face reddened even darker with such anger. The fact that there were rumors about me sleeping around was infuriating enough, and the fact he just kept going made me even angrier. Whilst the rest of easy Company laid into the man, I reached for an empty beer bottle, seeing an opening for me to hit the asshole right on top of his head perfectly.

  Right as I went to swing harshly down, I felt someone pick me up and quickly carry me out of the bar. I couldn't see or hear the person to identify them. So, I went into defense mode. Meaning, I started yelling for the random person to let me go as I thrashed my arms and legs about. I hit the person on top of their head and felt the point of my heel collide with what I was thinking was a shin. I heard a loud sound of someone yelling, "Ow, Aw shit!" and I felt them release me. The voice sounded oh so familiar. No other than Joseph Leibgott. I just stared at him, my chest heaved as I breathed heavily. His presence didn't make me feel any better as I retraced to the things I watched him do with that girl.

  "The hell was that for?!" He yelled, looking at me while he simultaneously rubbed both his a shin and head. He should've known better. I hate people coming up from behind me. And it was even worse when he decided to just hoist me up and carry me however far out of the bar. 

  "You know better to pull that shit Joseph!" I yelled, throwing my arms up. I tried to calm myself down and regulate my breathing. He sighed and nodded, looking down slightly. His arms fell to his sides as he looked at me. "And why the hell did you grab me?" I asked angrily. I wanted more than anything to smash that bottle over that sexist prick's head. It would've relieved so much built up anger and aggression. But nope, Joe just had to drag me away.

  "I couldn't let you smash that bottle over that asshole's head, it isn't like you," he spoke softly. I scoffed slightly. Was I really that good at hiding my true anger and true feelings. Did he really think that I was just going to let him say those things. I now realize that I should've began voicing my opinions and standing up for myself a long time ago. Now the person that was meant to be best friends with, seemed to not even really understand my emotions and everything going on. I looked at the ground and licked my bottom lip. My hands going on to my hips. 

  "You don't get it Joseph. I watch you get into petty fights over things smaller than what that guy said to me! He humiliated me! He deserved that bottle over his head! And let me guess, because I'm a woman, it just isn't in my nature to be as aggressive as to smash a fucking bottle over an asshole's head! Well, fucking news flash Joseph Leibgott, whether you men like it or not, I'm going to fight the German's with you men. I am just as strong and I'm a better soldier then most of the men here! So shut the fuck up with that lady like bullshit. I've been screamed at enough, crawled around in mud and pig guts and passed all my exams and such to become a soldier. Not some prissy military man thirsty broad like that blonde you were dancing with!" I yelled. All of my anger rushing out of my mouth. Leaving me breathing heavily and dropping my hands down at my sides. My left hand going through my now messy hair. And I left Joe utterly speechless. For once, he didn't have an immediate come back. He just sat there, eyes widened and mouth slightly agape like he was searching for words but he just couldn't seem find them.

  Soon, he composed himself and just stood there awkwardly. That's when tears came to my eyes and I felt my bottom lip quiver. A hard lump grew in the back of my throat as I struggled to push back the hot tears. I just looked at him and crossed my arms. How was he not saying anything? Surely he had something to say. 

  "Y/N, I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't mean to hurt or offend you," he spoke softly as he approached me. His face changed as soon as he realized the tears in my eyes. He walked closer and I just took a step back and shook my head slightly. I bit my bottom hard as I looked back up at him. That's when the tears began to slip down my cheeks slowly.

  "You didn't mean to? Just like you didn't mean to make me fall head over fucking heels for you," I said, not at all meaning to. Once I realized my words, I slapped my hand over my mouth and stared up at him. A red tint covered my face as the tears stopped for a second. I couldn't believe I had just let that just slip out of my mouth. I couldn't believe I let my emotions just take over like that. Joe just stared at me in shock, a dust of pink crawling up onto his pale skin. 

  "Y/N, I," He started, but I didn't even give him the chance to finish. I just turned and started walking away. I didn't want to hear the rejection full on. I just wanted to get back to Camp and forget it ever happened. It wasn't until when I heard Joe jog up to me and grab onto my arm and turn me around. "Y/N, come on," he spoke, trying to grab my attention. But I just didn't want to hear what I had silently feared from him for now months, nearly a year now. But, he grabbed a hold of my wrists and pulled me up, making me look at his face. Though, I was quick to speak.

  "Joe, save it. This is why I just want you to let me go back to Camp and we can never speak about it again. I saw you dancing with that blonde. I saw how you acted with her, how you touched her," I muttered, my gaze traveling else where. He looked at me, dumbfounded and shocked. I just stared back at him, waiting for some sort of response now.

  "I could give a shit about that Blonde Y/N! This entire time I've liked you, but you showed absolutely no signs of interest. Every time someone made a comment, there was no response, you just laughed it off. I only danced with that girl because I was 1. slightly drunk and 2. the fact that I saw so many other guys flirting with you and it hurt like hell! It hurt because I was being too much if a sissy to go up a flirt myself. God Y/N, ever since the first day I say you walk into the damn camp I wanted to get to know you. And as soon as I did I fell for you," he yelled. Clearly frustrated and upset at the same time. I sat there in shock, my mouth slightly agape as he released my wrists and just stared at me. In that moment I was done yelling, and I did something that I thought I would never do. But dreamed of doing for the absolute longest time.

  I stood up on my toes, grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him down to meet his chapped lips onto of mine. God, I never thought I would love the taste of cheap cigarettes and whiskey and beer on a man's lips than I did with Joe. It took him a second to render what I was doing. Though, when he did, he grabbed my waist, tightly but not harshly, and pulled my body closer to his. I smiled against his lips as he returned the kiss. God it was more than I ever wished for. I swear it was the best moment of my life so far. 

  After about a minute, yes a minute, we pulled away. I smiled up at him and tried catching my breath. "You have no idea how long I wanted to do that," I spoke, my words breathy. Joe just smiled down at me, also trying to catch his breath. He nodded slightly, bringing his right hand up to gentle cup my cheek whilst his right hand stayed on my waist firmly.

  "Oh god me too Y/N," he spoke excitedly. His smile not leaving his lips as he went and pressed his lips onto mine once more. My hands returned back to the sides of his face. This night started out as shit, and yeah, it might still be a little shitty. But hell, this right her, Joe's lips on mine. The thing I had been wishing and silently dreaming of for what seemed like ages now. It was finally happening.  

  What I didn't see was Bull leaning in the door way of the bar, smiling at the sight of Joseph and I kissing. It was something he was waiting for a while. Not the fact that Joe and I were kissing, just the fact that I was so happy. And he knew Joe would keep me happy.

  This night truly opened up something beautiful and opened up a piece of my future that I thought would never happen. Boy was the wait worth it. I was ready for anything to come my way now. I was truly at the highest point in my life in that moment. And it was only going up from there

#joe liebgott #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers #babe #bob imagine #imagines #askbox is open #imagine #the pacific imagine #buck compton #hbo war #hbo

[mybukz]

Fiction: The Devil Wears Sarong Kebaya by Peter Soh

I loathed the sweltering heat since small, but it didn’t stop people from coming here. The street in front of my house, Jalan Tun Tan Cheng Lock, seethed with tourists almost every day.

When I was a kid, I often waved to people taking respite from the scorching sun in the goh kaki of our house. They took in the colourful English tiles on the walls and touched the intricately carved window panels. They asked my amah, the maidservant of our house, the meaning of the word inscribed on the jee hoe hung above our main door. My amah, Muijie, who looked after me 24/7, found the tourists rude peeking into our house. She shooed them away in her Cantonese accent and shut the doors.

Only a handful of tourists interacted with me. Muijie would say nothing if I wasn’t crying, but she would give a disapproving look with her sharp eyes if the unwelcomed guests stayed at the five-foot way for too long. She always told me strangers carried germs and I shouldn’t play with them.

I was too young to understand what germs was and continued to play with anyone standing on the goh kaki. After all, no one in the house played with me. Muijie was no exemption, and I figured she had no position in our house as everyone in the house, including my doting mama, called her by her name, Mui Fong. Only mummy called her Muijie and she told me to address the same to show my respect. I learnt from mummy that ‘jie’ means ‘sister’ in Cantonese.

Whenever I cried, Muijie would assume mother figure even though maidservants like her had taken the vow of celibacy to not get married for the rest of their lives. She combed her hair into a neat bun just like mama’s except that she did not stick in flower garlands nor cucuk sanggul. She simply secured her chignon with a hairnet and hairpins.

Whenever she swore at the people who made me cry, I found her dramatic gestures amusing and I would stop crying and start laughing. Her manoeuvres combined cadences and actions. She would stomp out to the goh kaki in her wooden clogs, and left hand on waist, she pointed her white handkerchief and lashed out in a concoction of Cantonese and Malay patois I could never comprehend.

Except the word ‘babi’. I knew it meant ‘pork’ because mummy always cooked babi pongteh for me. Braised pork was among the few non-spicy dishes served in the house, and I had no idea why Muijie spat the word ‘babi’ to people.

“Who else can defy mama’s order to call the ponderous servant Muijie if you give birth not to a boy?” said Aunty Sarah, my tua ee, whenever mummy was in the living room overseeing me with Muijie. Aunty Sarah was mummy’s eldest sister and I could sense she didn’t like me because she never hugged me. But she said nothing and would play with me when mama was present. I deduced that those who wore their hair up were fierce.

Although our street was named after Tun Tan Cheng Lock whose ancestral house was at House 111, mama preferred its Dutch name, Heeren Street. ‘Heeren’ means ‘gentlemen’ and mama adored the Dutch word, for it served as a reminder to us, the baba nyonya, to always be gentle, soft-spoken, and cultured.

Fond of this name, mama’s father, my kong cho, bought this house and built his family here. Mama was born here, and unlike the Chinese ladies who stayed with the husband’s family after they got married, for the baba nyonya family it is the other way around. Hence, mama, mummy and her sisters, including Aunty Sarah, all stayed under the same roof even though they were all married.

Perhaps the house could no longer accommodate more ladies in the house that a male—which was me—was born to relieve the situation.

Mama showered me with toys, a gold anklet, and a jade-and-gold talisman that bore the image of a ferocious carp for warding off evil spirits. I had never seen any of my cousins wearing the same talisman. They wore small bronze cylinders with floral motif and less elaborate craftsmanship. My bib was a colourful cross-stitch sewn by mama while my cousins’ were plain pink fabric. The fabric of my Chinese New Year clothes were bought in Arab Street in Singapore and never from the merchant who sold fabric door to door. Mama never uttered a word when Muijie had to coax me to finish my food while mama didn’t hesitate to admonish my cousins for eating too slow.

“Go to your room to learn how to stitch. If you can’t stitch, how are you going to do beading next?” mama said crossly.

Though I was very much pampered by mama, I had never seen her smile. She always pulled a serious face and never spoke much. She either cooked in the kitchen or stayed in the room to look after me. I was never allowed to join my cousins or enter their rooms. She threatened to throw my toys away if I ever went near them, especially Aunty Sarah. And I never managed to go near them even when mummy wasn’t in the house. Muijie would carry me back to my room or bring me to the front hall to look at the crowd. She tailed after me all the time and she did whatever mummy would do: cook, clean the house and look after me—except scold me.

It wasn’t long before I knew I had to move out from the ancestral house. When mama passed away one morning, papa decided to bring mum and me to the United Kingdom for good. Papa didn’t bother to explain or maybe I was too small to understand when papa broached his decision. I just knew we were leaving after mama was laid to rest and Muijie was to stay in the house to take care of the remaining family.

I was only five when I left Heeren Street, thinking that the plane would fall if fat people were on board.

*

The façade of the house looked bleak and uninviting. Patches of mildew decorated the walls instead of English tiles. The two ring-shaped copper door handles had gone rusty and the gilded window panels were replaced with metal poles. The house looked out of place compared to the many boutique hotels, museums, and restaurants that lined the street.

“Are you sure this is the house?” I asked father.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You stayed here before.” Father wasn’t impressed with my question. He took a deep breath before knocking.

No one responded. Father knocked again. This time, louder.

“Coming!”

Though faint, the voice was familiar. And before I could figure who, the door swung open.

Though wrinkles embedded themselves in her forehead and her hair had turned white, I recognised her. She was still plump and her hair remained impeccably combed. The only difference was her white hair had made her black hairnet and hairpins visible. And she walked with a slower gait.

“Muijie!” mum called out.

Muijie stood at the entrance and squinted to inspect the lady in sarong kebaya. There was a tinge of awkwardness between us.

“Oh! Siu nai nai! Oh gosh, I barely recognise you! You never put on the sarong kebaya before this! You look so pretty, adui! This sarong was bought for you by mama, right? What brings you here? You have been gone for almost 20 years!”

Before any of us could speak, Muijie glanced at us and continued her babbling.

“This must be gu yeh! You did not change at all. You are always looking dashing in your business suit. Come, give me your jacket. I wash it for you. You must sweat a lot just now. The weather is getting hotter nowadays.”

Muijie moved to pick father’s dark blue jacket on his hand but I held her hands.

“Muijie,” I said.

She looked up at me. I shook my head, to forbid her from cleaning the jacket. It seemed she couldn’t make out who I was for a few seconds if not for the presence of father and mum.

“You are…Ben. No no, I shall call you siu yeh zai,” Her hands shook.

I nodded and smiled. “Yeah, I am Ben. How are you, Muijie?”

“I almost can’t recognise you. But I have a hunch it’s you. You have grown so tall and handsome like your father. How are you doing at what is that place? England? You must be speaking like one of those ang mo now. Wait wait wait. Baba speaks good English. I think they learn more from you. Am I right, siu yeh zai?”

Muijie couldn’t stop patting my arms and conjuring her own narrative of our life in the UK. It had been 20 years since mama passed away. I couldn’t blame her for her imagination because I couldn’t even remember much of the happenings in this house, let alone imagine the lives of those people staying here.

I only remembered there were lots of ladies in the house but only mother and Muijie were close to me. Mama rarely played with me as she was busy chewing sireh or playing cherki with her friends. She would buy me sweets and treat mother to colourful sarongs from Indonesia whenever she won the mahjong-like game. My cousins were always hiding in their room doing what mama instructed—stitching.

“Who are those people? I told you not to simply open the door. Can’t you understand my language? Macam babi!” berated a lady walking towards the door.

“Siu nai nai has come back, dai siu nai! They have come back from what is that country? Eng… England!”

In a white blouse and sarong, the lady looked like mama.

It was Aunty Sarah.

*

“What happened to the family plaque? Don’t you know it is a great shame to have the jee hoe taken down? And where are the rest of the family?”

“Look at who is speaking now.” Aunty Sarah jeered. “You are not the matriarch of this family but I am. I can do whatever I want. Nampak-nampak dah kurang ajair sekarang. Remember your rank in this house and don’t be rude.”

Even though our house in the UK was far from looking like those in Heeren Street, the jee hoe formed the spirits of the baba nyonya family. Even though we didn’t have one in our UK home, I learnt its importance quickly.

“Mo kasi jee hoe jato, is it?” was one of mother’s admonition whenever I misbehaved when young. It is a rhetorical question if one would like the family plaque to fall down. The jee hoe implies the family aspirations and beliefs and one should live up to its expectations and protect the family name at all costs. It was no wonder why mother questioned the whereabouts of the family’s jee hoe as it wasn’t hung at the entrance anymore.

“I sold it,” Aunty Sarah said evenly. “We needed the money.”

“What do you mean by you needed money? We willingly left the house so that you can take over the house willed to us. We did not take a single cent distributed to us. And chau works as well. Your husband’s salary is a bonus for your monthly expenses. What do you mean by you needed money?”

“Things changed. Just like who you are. You didn’t even put on the sarong kebaya when mother was alive. What did you say that time? What–nist? Feminist?” Aunty Sarah scoffed. “You thought you could change the world after reading some magazines. How ambitious. Look at you now. Back to this house again. And putting on an archaic costume.”

“That’s none of your business, ta chi,”

“Then why are you here?”

“UK may face lockdown due to the coronavirus outbreak,” father chimed in. “And since Ben has just graduated, we thought this is a good time to come back after all these years, to take a short break.”

Aunty Sarah didn’t look at father. She looked straight into mother’s eyes. “You think this is a resort?”

“This is our ancestral home. I was born here just like you. And I gave birth to my baby in this house too! And this was my house actually! Not yours!”

Mother couldn’t contain herself. She raised from the mother-of-pearl chair and gazed at mama’s portrait on the wall. I remembered seeing this photo at mama’s funeral. Mother told me that mama liked this photo because people could see her giant kerosang thoh. The brooch used for fastening her baju panjang was indeed spectacular. I could tell it was quite heavily encrusted with stones.

But nothing was heavier than two sisters estranged from each other.

*

This was my first time stepping into Muijie’s room. It was as simple as her black-and-white attire. Besides a bed and a wardrobe, she had only a small table with a mirror, some hairpins, and a bottle of what seemed to be hair oil to me.

“Is this all you have?” I gasped.

“Yes. I don’t need so many things. The only time I am here is when I go to bed.” Muijie was folding her blouses and pants.

“Can you stop working for a while? I have so many things to ask you.”

Muijie stopped folding. She took a deep breath and turned to me.

“Take this, siu yeh zai. This room is very hot.” Muijie passed me a fan from her bed. “What do you want to ask?”

I lowered my voice. “What happened to the people in this house? And why are you still here? Where are the other maids?”

Muijie looked at me with a helpless smile. I could tell life was not easy for the past two decades. She came all the way from Canton to Malaya by herself at 16 and worked for several families before joining ours as a veteran amah. Our household was impeccably clean and she could remember each and everyone’s names, birthdays, favourite foods, medical conditions, and their foibles. Mama doted on Muijie so much that she cleared the remaining debts of Muijie’s voyage to Malaya and Muijie in return stayed working for us until her final day. And no one could call her Muijie even though she was the majordomo in the house.

That was the deal from mama. Muijie accepted it with no qualms. After all, no amah could spend her final days in her master’s house as it was deemed to bring bad luck. It was uncharacteristic for an amah to be assured a place to work and die in. Muijie surrendered herself to the deal, even though this could mean that some maids would take advantage and abdicate their responsibility, and show no respect to her. Rather than having no food, Muijie gave up her dignity.

“They have left the house. They are working for other families now,” Muijie slowly coughed out the stories.

“And where are ee teoh? And other aunties, uncles and their kids?”

“Your other aunties have moved out from the house as well.”

“Why?”

“Ever since your mama passed away, no one wanted to keep up with the traditions in this household. They sold the furniture and those precious paraphernalia to the antique collectors and moved to Singapore. Except those in the front hall. Dai siu nai said we should keep a few in case anyone visits the house. But no one visits the house. Till now. Who wants to come to a house that looks like a ghost house? I keep scrubbing the mildew off the wall but they grow back quickly! Especially when it keeps raining for days!”

“Then where is ee teoh? He should be here with tua ee, isn’t it?”

Muijie looked at me.

“Where is he?” I pressed for an explanation.

“Look at you. Still the same. No one can stop you from getting what you want.”

“Stop teasing me, Muijie. Tell me where is ee teoh? Did he die already? I don’t see an additional plaque in the ancestral hall just now.”

Muijie snatched my fan and knocked my head. “Choy choy choy. Spit before you say anything again.”

“I am sorry. I am just curious. I don’t remember seeing him when I was small.”

“Tai gu yeh is a businessman and he rarely comes back. He was here during your mama’s funeral but I guess you were too young to remember.”

“Is he coming back anytime soon?”

“I doubt it.”

“Why?”

Uneasiness welled up in Muijie’s face. I could tell there was more than just business trips.

I leaned forward and looked at her, conveying it safe to unlock any secret.

“Tai gu yeh will never come back because…” she paused. Muijie took a deep breath and rattled on. “…because he has a baby with his mistress!”

The door swung open. Aunty Sarah had let her hair down, and she looked ghastly under the kerosene. She lurched and slapped Muijie with all her might.

“You are leaving the house by tomorrow morning, do you hear me?”

“I am sorry, tai siu nai. I am sorry! I won’t tell this to anyone anymore. No, no. I mean I don’t know about this. I don’t know where is tai gu yeh. Please, please don’t chase me away. I have nowhere to go. Please, tai siu nai. Please…”

Muijie cried and knelt for forgiveness. I remained rooted to the spot and didn’t know what to do. I didn’t dare to look at Aunty Sarah, to avoid confrontation. I sweated and wished she would go back to her room.

“You want to stay here?” Aunty Sarah sneered.

“Yes. Yes. I can do all you want. Please. Don’t chase me away.” Muijie couldn’t stop sobbing. Snot dripped with her tears.

“You can stay here if I die! I don’t want to see you tomorrow! Go away!”

Aunty Sarah kicked Muijie and left the room. Muijie muffled her cries, covering her mouth. I felt bad for her.

“Muijie, she won’t chase you away. You will be here. You are the best amah in this house. She won’t kick you out.” I tried my best to comfort Muijie but deep down, I was frightened to death. Mother is going to lambaste me for my tactlessness. Why am I digging my own shit hole?

*

Just a few more hours to 6a.m. but I couldn’t sleep. I had made a huge mistake and had jeopardised Muijie’s work. No, it was her life. She had lived here for 30 years and where she could go?

I was engulfed with remorse. Father and mother still had no idea what their good-for-nothing son had done. Mother was going to chastise me for breaking the family’s jee hoe this time.

I went down to check on Muijie. I wanted to make sure she was sleeping. I wanted to let her know I would do my best to rectify the situation and she should not worry.

Muijie wasn’t in her room. Did she leave the house already?

I opened her wardrobe—her clothes were still there.

She is definitely in the house. Maybe she is in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

I went to the kitchen but there was no sign of her.

Where could she be? Ah! She must be with Aunty Sarah to beg for forgiveness.

I headed to Aunty Sarah’s room and I was right. The kerosene was not put out yet. Someone was inside.

I was puzzled at the sight.

Muijie was sitting on someone and with a sarong in hand, she covered the nose and the mouth of someone on the bed. I couldn’t hear anything but I could now see Aunty Sarah struggling to push Muijie off her.

It wasn’t long before she stopped moving. I stood horrified and I had yet to process what I had witnessed.

“Now I can stay here,” was all I could glean before running back to my room, not caring what would happen next.

*

Peter Soh is an ambitious Malaysian writer whose stories are about darkness, pain, struggles, identity searching and what it means to be a human being. He made his publishing debut with his short story, ‘The Missing Tomb’ in the ‘Emerging Malaysian Writers 2018’ anthology and has unknowingly written six features about the baba nyonya in Penang Monthly. He is currently teaching First Language English and Sociology in Kingsley International School.

#malaysian fiction #Peter Soh #the devil wears sarong kabaya #malaysian literature

[sagara-megumi]

SasuSaku Month 2019 - Day 7: One of These Nights || [Fanfic] Family Ties - Chapter 3

Sorry for the really long delay this time. Beside some real-life circumstances, I was hit by a so much dreaded writer’s block. I had the images clear in my mind but at the moment to put them into words, I was incapable, and the little I wrote didn’t seem to make any sense. I hope that from now on, it’ll go smoothly.

As I said before, the SasuSaku Month ended but I’ll continue writing till I finish the story, since I have already written a good part of it. So, I hope you stick with me on this journey ^^

Title: Family Ties: Chapter 3

Rating: T/PG-13

Words: 4909

Notes: There’s a rollercoaster of feelings in this chapter, as well as a few scenes and different points of view. I hope it’s not confusing and everything fits together.

English isn’t my first language so if you spot any mistakes, please tell me. I hope that you enjoy it, and thank you for the notes and follows :)

.

CHAPTER 3

Akihiko sat down on the bed of the hotel room he had booked and looked through the enormous window in front of him that overlooked the city, lit with thousands of lights more than usual with the fast approach of Christmas. Almost three weeks had passed since that fateful night when Mikoto and he had decided to give themselves some time apart from each other so he could sort out his feelings, and finally, he had managed to make a decision.

It had been hard to assimilate everything she had told him, to think about what the best solution for all of them was because it was not just a matter of them as a couple any more, but also, of their children. Her youngest son was also a vampire and he would be living with them, and he had a daughter he had to protect at all costs. He needed to know that she would not be in danger, that she would have a normal life until the moment she decided to spread her wings and become independent. Also, he had many questions about her and her circumstances. He had tried to research about them but all he had found were legends and wild assumptions, overblown facts that made them monsters, and she was anything but that. Her face appeared in his mind, her sweet smiles, her words advising him when he was lost regarding his daughter, telling him the truth about her condition... He could not deny that he still loved her, maybe even more than before. He was just unable to imagine his life without her in it.

A knock took him out of his reverie and, after breathing deeply, he stood up and walked to the door. Upon seeing him, Mikoto smiled lightly, but he could see that behind that gesture, she was as apprehensive as he. She was wearing a thick anorak with a hood, trousers and low heel shoes. Her black hair was up in a neat bun, though some wisps of hair had scaped it, framing her slightly pale face. She had told him on the phone that she would meet him after the closing of the department store and seeing the time, it was clear that she had hurried to get there.

“I apologise for making you wait.”

He shook his head and stepped aside, and she entered the room, looking around as she unzipped her coat.

“How are you? he asked, clenching and relaxing his hands, trying to calm himself.

“I'm fine” she put the garment on a chair and turned, smiling softly at him. “And you?”

“I'm well, busy in the office, as always, especially with the New Year approaching.”

She nodded and laced her fingers in front of her.

“I hope you don't mind we're meeting here” he approached the table in the centre of the room. “At the beginning, I thought we could have dinner at a restaurant but...” he paused for a moment. “... I think what we have to talk about is not a topic to discuss in a public place.”

“I agree.”

He combed his hair with his fingers and looked at her, a wavering smile playing on his lips.

“I-I... There's so much I need to know that-”

Mikoto sat down on the bed, resting her hands on her lap and looked at him in the eyes.

“Ask me everything you must know or you're concerned about.”

He nodded and sat down on a chair.

“Maybe it'll take long...”

“Don't worry” her smile was soft. “We have time.”

.

“Sakura?” Akihiko knocked on the door the following morning, calling his daughter's name. “Can I come in?”

Upon hearing her answer, he opened the door and looked at her, smiling.  She was sitting at her desk, studying, bathed in the dim light of the early morning sun, dressed with comfortable dark grey cotton trousers and a thick beige turtleneck jumper, and he could not help a smile. She was so responsible and mature that sometimes, it seemed that she was the parent in the family instead of him. She should be the one falling in love, having a wonderful partner and enjoying going on dates. He did not even know if there was someone she fancied. In the beginning, he had thought that she would end up with Naruto, being so close and knowing each other so well, but she had closed that door the day she had returned home worried and in tears after he had confessed to her, fearing that she had lost her best friend forever. And except in that case, Sakura had never been too open with him regarding love, and he supposed it was the normal thing. After all, those were things that a girl shared with her mother. She had talked about singers, actors, gushing about them and even taking control of the television when one of them was on it, and even about one or two boys of her school but it had been clear to him that it had not been anything serious. He had never known if there had been someone she had fancied seriously at one point.

“Is something the matter, dad?”

She was looking at him with curiosity and he shook his head, scolding himself for spacing out so easily.

“Sorry...” he approached her and looked over her head. “So, how are you doing?”

“Well” she smiled and swung a bit in her swivel chair. “I finished studying the content of each subject a while ago and I've started reviewing the most difficult parts...” she paused for a moment and put a strand of hair, loose from her short ponytail, behind her ear. “To tell you the truth, I'm a bit restless since the exam date is approaching but I think I'll be fine...”

He nodded, putting his hands in the pockets of his trousers. She had talked about a few universities that she wanted to attend to, but none in particular, but that did not worry him too much. Opposite to other parents whose only aim was for their children to go to a prestigious college, he only wanted her to be happy studying to be a doctor, her wish since she was a child, and he had left the choice of place to her. As her homeroom teacher had assured him in their last meeting, with her academic record, she could aim for any of them.

“Anything else?” she tilted her head as a slow smile started to play on her lips. “Because I think your interest in my studies isn't the only thing that brought you here.”

He lowered his head briefly and tried to suppress a small smile. Nothing scaped his daughter’s intuition. He sat down on the bed and cleared his throat before starting.

“That's true...” he gazed at her. “Mikoto-san and I are going to get married...”

Feeling a slight oppression on the chest as a fleeting image of her mother crossed her mind, Sakura stared at her father for a moment. She swallowed. Finally, it was happening, and though she had been the one to encourage him and had had time to assimilate the idea, it still felt like a blow.

“Both of us had our big ceremonies so we've decided that the wedding will be very simple” he was saying when she recovered a bit. “We'll register our names and give a small party for our closest relatives and acquaintances.”

He was wringing his hands nervously and, as he looked at her, she could see hope and eagerness, and at the same time, a faint glint of insecurity, of fear, and she smiled, knowing that it was for her, because deep down he knew that she had hoped that his devotion for her mother would have lasted forever. And for that, and for putting her above everything else in his life, her affection for him could not be greater.

“I'm really glad for you, dad.”

He extended his hand to her and, looking a bit puzzled, she put hers in his palm.

“I want to assure you that I still love your mother, deeply, like the first day I met her” Sakura felt a knot in her throat and her eyes filled with tears. “Mikoto-san is not going to replace her in my heart or in this house...” he tightened his hold. “I know I'm being selfish, it's a bad time for changes with your exams so near-”

“Dad” she interrupted him softly, rubbing her eyes with her other hand. “Are you happy?

Akihiko gazed at her for a few seconds. She resembled her mother so much, and not only physically, and she was looking at him with so much love that in his mind he felt as if his first wife was paying him one last visit to give him her blessing. He brushed a lone tear which had fallen on his cheek and then, he smiled shyly.

“Yes, I am.”

She squeezed his hand and smiled sincerely.

“Then, that's all that matters.”

“Thank you, Sakura.”

They stayed like that for a while and then, breathing deeply, Akihiko spoke again.

“There's one more thing... We... don't want to wait too much and since Mikoto-san's apartment contract expires at the end of the year...” her heart raced in her chest. “She and her son will move in during the New Year holidays.”

Her mind tried to argue that it was too soon. She had barely had time to assume the situation and now, in two weeks, her tiny family would welcome two more members. However, her heart full of emotions shut its whispering voice. His happiness was above all. Her jaw trembled a bit and she clenched it instinctively, so her father would not realise.

“Th-That's fine” she chuckled briefly. “Though we have lots of things to do before that...”

Akihiko nodded and stood up, a relaxed expression softening his features. Sakura closed her eyes and exhaled, repeating to herself that it was for the best, repressing the urge to cry. There would be time for that later when she was alone. He was about to turn to leave the bedroom when he seemed to remember something. “By the way, do you have plans for the twenty-fourth? I know it's a special date...”

She laughed and shook her head.

“My friends were talking about having a party, but it'll probably be another day so the couples can spend their time together. I'll probably have a very nice rendezvous with my textbooks.”

“Well, then, I think I have a small surprise for you. We decided that it would be a good idea for the two families to have dinner together that day... I convinced Mikoto-san to have it here, at home.”

Sakura opened her eyes widely and turned her head, looking anxiously at the calendar on her wall, next to her desk.

“But that's next Saturday!” confused, he saw her take out a small notebook from one of the drawers. “And, there's so much to organise...”

“Sakura?”

She muttered something as she scribbled furiously on one of the pages and then, she looked at him, her eyes glinting determined.

“I'm sorry, dad, I know tomorrow is your day-off, but we need to clean the house.”

.

Mikoto examined her sons' faces and, deep inside, she sighed tiredly. She had not expected them to be exultant with the news she had just announced to them but at least, they could be tolerant with her decision. Itachi, the oldest, was regarding her calmly, none of his thoughts reflected in his sharp features. He was the one who looked the most like her ex-husband with his facial expression lines and his stern expression. Sasuke, however, resembled her. He had her big eyes and slightly round cheekbones, and his character was similar to hers too. At least, before. During his childhood, he had been cheerful, affectionate and sociable but at that moment, his furrowed brows, his lips pressed in a thin line and his disapproving pupils were the same as Uchiha Fugaku's every time they argued in the last years of their marriage.

“I'm not asking for your consent, just your understanding...” she breathed deeply and tightened her joined hands on her lap. “I know it's something difficult to accept, but...”

“I'm fine with it.”

Mikoto looked at her eldest son a bit perplexed, not really expecting that reply.

“But Itachi!” Sasuke intervened, breaking his silence. “He's a human! Humans are food, we don't marry them. The clan-”

“Sasuke” Mikoto replied calmly. “I don't belong to the clan anymore” her son frowned and looked aside. “I understand your position but you know that this has happened before, and not to outcasted members like me.

She saw him clench his jaw, as even he, being so young, knew that it was true. Despite all of them being brought up to feel superior and prideful of who they were and it was taboo to speak about the topic, there was a considerable number of them who had fallen in love with humans, leaving the clan voluntarily, and rumors about important members who still belonged to it and led a secret life with human partners. She knew that her wedding would cause an uproar, especially because Sasuke was the clan's head youngest son and he still lived with her.

“He's a good man, educated and kind” she smiled lightly. “He made sure I was the one making the decision, he wanted me to talk to you before answering. And he assured me that nothing would change if I refused his proposal” he still had his head low and she sighed. “I'm not asking you to love him or pretend to do it. I'm just asking you not to ignore or look down on him, to get on with him. I know that once you'll turn eighteen, you'll go back to live with your father but until then...”

Sasuke stayed silent a bit more. He was sincerely trying to feel even a bit happy for his mother. It had been a long time since he had seen her eyes spark like that, even though she had become serious the moment he had reacted to the news. However, he could not find it in himself and he was not one to feign his feelings. Since his parents had divorced when he was fourteen, deep inside he had hoped that someday, they could be together again and they both would return to the clan. It was their home, their family, their place. And, even though he had continued bound to it, being the youngest son of its leader, his mother had immersed herself in the human world with her work and her friends. And now, she was taking one more step into it by marrying a common man.

He looked at her. She was gazing at him, serious, determined. He had only seen that expression on her face a few times, the last one when she had decided to leave her old life behind and, as before, it would not matter what he said or complained about, he knew that she was going to do it.

“I understand” he mumbled.

Itachi had watched his brother's struggle with concern and for a moment, he had dreaded that he would say he wanted to live with their father. Since Sasuke had been a child, he had sought his recognition, being always in his older brother's shadow, and he had witnessed how he had strived to meet all expectations and overcome difficulties. He had tried to make his days more bearable spending as much time as possible with him, helping him or playing with him. However, after the divorce, and despite Sasuke still attending the same prestigious school and spending three days a week in the main house, things had become strained, being watched for the slightest mistake on his part. And now, their father was more demanding, sterner, probably for Sasuke's own good. However, he was still a child, his character was more sensitive, and he feared that one day, he would break. He needed to stay with their mother, at least until he finished school. And maybe the experience of living close to a human could do him good.

“Does he know?” he asked, crossing his arms. “I mean, about... us.”

“He does” both brothers looked at each other, disconcerted.

“And he still wants to marry you?” Itachi lifted his brows in a sceptical gesture. “He truly must be amazing. Not many humans are able to accept us so easily.”

“It hasn't been easy for him” Mikoto half-closed her eyes for a moment. “He had many questions and was a bit insecure, but he decided after we talked about it at long length. The only condition he has is to keep it a secret from his daughter.”

Their eyes widened, surprised.

“A daughter?” Sasuke blurted. “He has a daughter?”

“Yes. She's still in high school.”

“So” Itachi smiled to himself as he leant back in his seat. “We're having a sister...”

.

Three times a week, Sakura met her friends at lunchtime on the school rooftop and the coldest months, on the stairs which led to the highest floor. Otherwise, it was difficult that they could see each other during the morning, as she, Tenten and Neji were in a different year, and even more in the afternoon, between their club activities and the entrance exams.

As they all sat on the steps, talking excitedly about Christmas and other events, Sakura was glancing at her food pensively. She had decided that it was time to tell them about her father's wedding. It was just a matter of time that they heard about it and she preferred to be her the one to announce it.

“Sakura-chan, are you listening to me?”

Naruto brought her back to reality and Ino laughed lightly, her eyebrows lifted as if telling her that she was guessing what had her so distracted that day.

“Sorry, I have a lot in my mind today...” she picked up a piece of broccoli from her lunch box. “What were you saying?”

“It was about the football match this Saturday, we play against Morigaoka and we're so going to beat them. Sai promised that if I score seven times, he'll forget that I overslept this morning and missed the meeting we had...”

He laughed sheepishly and some of them sighed loudly. Only Hinata showed him some support by patting his hand softly, her cheeks red as apples.

“So, are you coming to cheer us?”

She swallowed and put her chopsticks down.

“I'm sorry, I can't.”

“Oh, come on!” he pouted. “Studying so much is going to melt your brain.”

“It's not that” she breathed deeply and lifted her head, regarding all her friends. “I have to tell you something.”

The seriousness in her voice made all of them become silent and turn their attention to her.

“I've waited to tell you because... well, it wasn't sure but now, it is... My father is remarrying.”

.

The day had been exhausting, but she had managed to finish organising and cooking before the time. Sakura looked at her reflection on the mirror once again, smoothing out her light blue dress carefully, making sure that the dark ribbon which fastened it at the back just below her chest was well tied. Then, she took a headband with a bow and tried it but she took it off immediately. One thing was to make a good impression and a very different one to look like a doll. She gathered her hair at the nape of her neck with one hand and turned, seeing it from different angles, but that did not convince her either.

“Sakura?” a knock on the door startled her. “It's almost eight. Are you ready?”

“Give me one more minute.”

She brushed her hair quickly and grabbed another headband with three navy blue roses whose seed was a small pearl. She applied some gloss on her lips and put a thin chain with a silver cross pendant around her neck, her father's present for her fifteenth birthday. After a last glance to the mirror, she went out of the room and ran down the stairs.

Before she had gone upstairs, she had set the table and in the middle, she had put a centrepiece she had made with poinsettia and holly and two golden coloured candles. It was Christmas Eve, after all.

As she checked once more that everything was in place and that the meal was almost ready, she found Akihiko fidgeting nervously with his tie as he looked at the clock on the kitchen wall.

“Here, let me” she said with a light laugh, straightening the knot and the neck of his shirt. “Everything will be fine” she said looking at him lovingly, letting her hands rest briefly on the lapels of his jacket.

The moment was broken by the chiming of the bell, and he breathed deeply, giving her daughter a last smile before going to the door. Sakura closed her eyes for a moment, pressing her lips, and then, followed him.

She was even more elegant and refined than she had imagined. Mikoto was wearing a dark grey coat under which Sakura could glimpse a dark red suit. Her features were delicate, enhanced by a light make-up, and her black hair was tied at the back of her nape with a beautiful hairclip.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Uchiha-san” she bowed formally, hoping her smile did not falter her at that moment, when her father introduced her.

“The pleasure is mine, and please, call me Mikoto” she answered her gesture with one of her own. “These are my sons, Itachi and Sasuke.”

As she was ready to bow again to the two men that would become her brothers, her gaze falling on them as Mikoto stepped aside, she felt her smile freeze on her lips.

In front her, next to a tall man with his long hair tied in a low ponytail, who smiled pleasantly at her, it was the person she had least expected to see in her house that night. As the boy of the train glanced at her, a knot suddenly closed her throat and her heart thundered in her chest. However, he showed no signs to recognise her.

“Sakura...?” her father murmured worriedly.

Her eyes widened and she swallowed, bowing a bit hastily.

“Nice to meet you.”

Her voice had trembled slightly and she berated herself for it. While she felt a hot blush burn her cheeks as the only word he uttered reached her ears in a low mumble, she breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. Even though her mind was racing confused, it was not the moment to feel giddy like a little girl but one to show she was a capable hostess and accompany her father in one of the most important moments of his life

'Remember what he thinks about fangirls... Remember how you usually behave on the train...'

Clenching her jaw, and with that thought in mind, Sakura straightened herself and, even though she still could feel flustered, she mustered the courage to smile politely and take Mikoto's coat, as Akihiko did the same with both men.

Her father invited them to step inside and, as Sasuke passed by her, she smelled his perfume, a soft scent which reminded her of the forest. He was very handsome dressed with a while shirt fastened with a zipper up to just below his collarbones and black jeans, a belt with a silver buckle tied around his waist.

“It should be forbidden to look so good in such simple clothes...”

.

“The food is delicious, Sakura-chan.”

“Thank you, Mikoto-san” she smiled over her glass of apple juice. “I'm really glad you're enjoying it.”

The dinner was going well. As they had taken their seats, Mikoto admiring the decoration of the table and the living room, where she had set some lanterns with candles inside on the sill of the big window in front of them, a Christmas tree near the sofa and fairy lights that highlighted certain spots of the room. As she started serving some light appetizers before the main course, the slightly tense atmosphere had started to relax gradually as Itachi broke the ice and asked some questions to Akihiko about his job, and she had admired the engagement ring that the woman wore on her left ring finger. A bit later, once the main course, roasted pork, had been served, their attention had gravitated to her and her school.

“Sakura-chan, Akihiko-san told me that you are taking your entrance exams in a few weeks... I'm sorry that our wedding is going to interfere with your studies.”

“Please, don't worry, Mikoto-san” she smiled. “I'm doing fine and it won't be a problem.”

“Then,” Itachi spoke and Sakura turned her attention to him. “She's older than Sasuke?”

“Really?”

“Yes, he's in second year of high school.”

The four of them looked at the young man briefly, and he moved uncomfortably, eating some vegetables. He had not said much during the meal, only answering when asked or agreeing. Sakura had not been very surprised by his attitude. During their brief encounters in the train, she had deduced he was not a very sociable person, always travelling alone and in his own world, cautious and keeping his distance when someone stood near here. And she supposed that being thrown in the maelstrom of their parents' engagement and marriage was being difficult for him too.

“Sasuke-kun” she called him, trying to hide her nervousness, and he glanced at her, leaving his glass on the table, his eyelids dropping a bit upon hearing the suffix attached to his name. “When were you born?”

He took a moment to reply and she swallowed hard, having the impression that in a way, she had offended him.

“July.”

She chuckled tensely and he turned his attention to his food without looking at anyone else or saying another word.

“I was born in March, so that makes me at least three months older than you.”

There was an awkward pause that Itachi filled immediately.

“It's a really short time but enough to be a year ahead at school” he picked up a small piece of meat with his fork. “A pity, Sasuke, you'll be the youngest child again.”

Sakura noticed him tighten his hold around the knife but no other reaction came from his brother's teasing.

“You'll have to be patient with him, Sakura-chan” Mikoto whispered as a small wistful smile appeared on her lips. “He's a good boy but...” she interrupted herself, doubtful about the words she should use, and then, shook her head. “Just give him a little time.”

She nodded and then, focused her attention on him again. He was talking to his brother about something, and her father was listening to them, a relaxed expression on his face. She supposed that, after so many years having only a daughter to talk to, having men in the house was refreshing for him. And, though Sakura felt a small pang of melancholy and jealousy, she also felt glad for her father. If Sasuke managed to open up to him, maybe he could become something akin to a son to him.

And, if she could forget the feelings that she had which made her heart skip a beat every time their eyes met and butterflies flutter in her stomach when his quiet words reached her ears, he could also become a brother to her.

TO BE CONTINUED

#Naruto #fanfic #ssm19 #ssm19d7 #sasusakumonth #Uchiha Sasuke #Haruno Sakura #SasuSaku #OTP

[hinabes]

Laba Congee’s Backstory

A story of unfortunate coincidences, retribution and playing god.

I. Harvest

The ritual bell swayed gently as its crisp ringing echoed through the evening’s waning sunlight.

The breeze of the late afternoon scattered the clouds as the dance was completed, I stood still on the altar as my Master Attendant behind the altar nodded at me.

I caught my breath, gently wiping off the drops of sweat across my brow.

Master Attendant drew his sleeves, informing the audience below the altar of the conclusion of the sacrificial ritual.

The silent crowd exploded in a display of applause and cheers.

I accompanied Master Attendant in stepping down from the altar as people carrying baskets laden with all sorts of fruits and vegetables gathered around.

“High Priest, these fruits were freshly picked by our family! They’re really sweet!”

“High Priest, these cabbages are from our farm, fresh as can be!”

“High Priest…”

“High Priest.”

Shoved into the center of the crowd, Master Attendant put on an extremely reassuring smile, patting the hair of a child who squeezed his way through the crowd.

“Thank you! You’re too kind! Your happiness and peace is the best gift you could give!”

I braced my Master Attendant, exhausted from the ritual processes, against myself and returned to our residence, offering him a pot of freshly brewed tea.

Master Attendant gently patted the back of my hand, gesturing for me to take a seat beside him.

“Laba Congee, take a break, come here and drink a cup with this old man.”

I nodded and seated myself by Master Attendant’s side. Holding the cup of tea with steam slowly rising from its surface, I let out a long sigh.

Master Attendant gave me a kind smile, his bony hand tucking my tousled hair behind my ear.

“It’s all thanks to you, Laba Congee, this old bag of bones would never be able to keep this up otherwise.”

“That can’t be true Master Attendant, you pray every day, sincerely presenting offerings to the heavens, of course you’d be granted good health!”

“You and your sweet talk, hurry up, it’s about time to distribute alms, can’t be late for that.”

“Right, I’ll take my leave now. Rest well, Master Attendant.”

I dashed out of the house, carrying the pots of porridge prepared by the kitchen with the helpers to the shed at the front of the residence, where the poor and homeless have queued up and were waiting patiently.

I filled bowls with porridge from the pots and handed them out to whoever came up, and our neighbors who were free put aside their idle work and came by to help distribute too.

A girl whose hair was tied up neatly with a pretty string came to my side, picked up a bowl and somewhat unsteadily handed it to a hunched-over elderly citizen.

I patted the top of her head and thanked her, but she said something unexpected.

“Thank you, Miss Laba Congee, isn’t that just how it is! Miss Laba Congee and Grandpa High Priest are such good samaritans and since you have such faith in Gods, God must be good too, anyone who doesn’t have faith must be a bad person!”

I was taken aback slightly, but seeing the clarity in the expression of her eyes, I couldn’t help patting her head.

“Does Aoi have faith in God?”

“Yup! He granted us a good harvest, put the clothes on our backs and the food on our plates.”

“That’s great, you gotta give your thanks to God, but those who don’t have faith in him aren’t necessarily bad people, you know.”

“Eh… Why is that?”

“Uh… Anyway, they’re not all bad people. That’s why, when Aoi meets people whose faith is in other gods, you have to respect them too.”

“... Okay. Aoi understands.”

II. Downhill

The turn of the dynasty passed like any other dawn and dusk.

The old emperor abdicated, and the first thing the new generation did once enthroned was deprive the religion officials and teachers of the state entrusted by the previous generation of their political rights.

Even though this was quite saddening to me, it was understandable.

After all, it’d be childish to leave everything up to the “voice of God”.

However, what followed was the people’s contempt towards religions.

The once highly-regarded high priest was now treated as a scam.

This was cruel to my master attendant, having spent his life praying for the prosperity of the country, of the people

With the passing of the devout elderly believers, the youths who once would have been chided into praying obediently had been released of their bindings and decided it was now their source of entertainment.

“Hahaha! Look at that old geezer! Playing house with those spells he’s chanting!”

“Haha! Yeah! Come on! We don’t respect those gods of yours, what of it! Get your gods to smite me! Bet you won’t!”

As the youths’ provoking increased, I braced my Master Attendant who was about to pass out and glared angrily at them.

“Religious or not, please do not make light of others’ beliefs and have some basic respect for the gods held in their hearts.”

The youths shrunk under my glare and the leader hummed and hawed as if to puff out his feathers.

“You… What are you glaring for! You’re frauds anyway! Scammed yourselves years and years worth of offerings! Our harvests are fine with or without you!”

“Th-That's right!”

“Fraud!”

“Fraud!”

I clenched my fist, glaring at the people spitting on the altar, making faces, showing not a penny of respect, and my brows knit in rage.

“Shoo off!”

Came a familiar voice.

Once a little girl all those years ago, Aoi, with her hair in a neat bun, had become a young woman taller than me.

With her hands on her hips, she chased away the people before me, then turned around to help me pick Master Attendant up and looked at us with worry.

“Miss Laba Congee… Pay them no mind, we know how much High Priest and Miss Laba Congee has done for us, I’ll escort you back.”

I braced Master Attendant on me all the way back to our residence, its past good condition gone.

“Miss Laba Congee… Why, why don’t they understand that, even if they don’t have faith, they shouldn’t make light of those that do?”

Aoi looked at my master attendant, still yet to have regained strength, with concern.

“They treat you like frauds, make fun of the gods and your beliefs. And to think everyone was so pious before…”

“They’ve… gone too far… Why can’t God just, help you… Weren’t those who made fun of God supposed to receive divine retribution… Why isn’t there retribution……”

Back then, I didn’t notice the pair of eyes of the ones on the bed behind me opening slowly, filled with rage and despair.

The gods were everything to Master Attendant, he couldn’t accept change and stayed home every day as if in a trance.

I didn’t know how to advise him and ended up just repeating the same procedures we always had day in, day out, like nothing ever changed.

III. “Divine Retribution”

Suddenly, one day, a mysterious disease made its way through the town, and doctors from all over were dumbfounded.

The illness spread fast, yet it took no lives, only leaving its victims in pain.

The disease was first found on two youths and had soon spread to everyone in the area.

Nobody was spared, be it children, the elderly, or the fit and healthy.

The few exceptions were Aoi, whose body wasn’t as strong as most men, and my aged master attendant.

Someone must have brought it up, and soon there were people who, just to give it a try, brought their children to Master Attendant’s residence.

Master Attendant wasn’t gentle like he’d always been, instead chided them and told them to kneel before the door an entire night, to atone to the gods they made light of.

Once the small pill was swallowed by the pale, sickly children, the effect was immediate. The unconscious children threw up mouthfuls and mouthfuls of a black liquid, and life returned to their cheeks immediately afterward.

Soon, the rumor was spread all throughout the town. Everyone suddenly “remembered” their respect towards the gods, and kneeled before Master Attendant’s residence in flocks.

The two fit youths turned out to be in the worst condition, and over the many days and nights under the sun and in the rain, they became incredibly frail.

Seeing my master attendant’s smug expression, I couldn’t help but frown.

Master Attendant was gentle and kind.

Even to those who had no faith, he sent his blessings.

He’d never have put on such an evil smirk before someone in pain.

The next moment, Master Attendant seemed to have noticed his change in demeanor as well and withdrew his hand with a flinch. Receiving gazes of gratitude from those who humiliated him previously, he handed them the divine medicine.

“Even though you’ve hurt others and disrespected God, you’re still young, you have the chance to change for the better. I hope that you’ll show basic respect to others’ beliefs even if you don’t have faith yourself in the future. May God protect you, my poor children…”

I could tell, as the youths hurriedly gulped down the medicine, they seemed to have been moved by Master Attendant’s speech…

In our eyes, God had always been benevolent and forgiving.

Previously, he would never have dealt out punishment over such petty matters.

I couldn’t find a cure in the medicinal books, and I didn’t know how Master Attendant managed to cure them.

As more and more people were cured, those of the town who lost faith reignited their loyalty and respect for God.

Even those who weren’t religious before now lowered their heads and became devotees to the heavens above.

An increase in followers should have been a good thing, but for some reason, I couldn’t shake the strange feeling of unease.

IV. “God”

The people regained their faith as they had personally seen the work of God.

To them, whenever they were in trouble, the gods will come to their aid if they pray earnestly.

Soon after, the town showed signs of deterioration.

Master Attendant, however, returned to the peaceful and kind demeanor he had before.

Though he often left his quarters late at night for a basement that was built some time I knew not.

In the dead of night, when not a star was visible.

Even the moon was obscured by thick clouds and not a ray of light passed through; it was as if a curtain was drawn on the town.

Aged and feeble, he left his room carefully and quietly as I looked on, hidden behind a pillar, finally getting the chance to see the basement he had been hiding from me.

Taking my first steps underground, I could smell the scent of strong, pungent drugs, as well as the faint bitterness of various herbs, enough to make one uncomfortable and agitated.

My brows creased as I headed deeper in as quietly as I could, to see my master attendant, who should have been sleeping at this hour, up and mixing something diligently at a desk.

My eyes couldn’t help but widen at the sight of the herbs outlawed long ago before him.

The next moment, I couldn’t control myself and dashed forward.

I gripped his hands tightly, but what was trembling wasn’t his hands, rather mine.

I lifted my head to see my master attendant, shocked at my sudden appearance.

“... Why are you here?”

Scrutinizing the basement, the various drugs, the strange recipes, I understood.

My master attendant, having calmed down, let out a sigh.

“Laba Congee, you knew, right?”

I nodded silently.

Between the pills he sneaked into the medicine box, the hidden mechanisms that started appearing in the temple, and the many other things, I couldn’t come up with an excuse for Master Attendant’s behavior anymore.

All that divine retribution, divine forgiveness stuff was no more than a show orchestrated by Master Attendant to accrue belief for the gods.

“Master Attendant, please stop this, it’s not too late.”

Master Attendant’s hand trembled as he fidgeted to escape my grasp, but I only gripped harder.

“Master Attendant, you haven’t killed anyone yet, so, let’s stop this before it’s too late, alright?”

“But, if I stopped, they’ll just forget about the gods again, forget their faith, they’ll just humiliate us, humiliate the gods again. What should I… what do I do…”

“Master Attendant, can faith cultivated like this really be called faith? Do you desire their respect for the gods, or yourself?”

Before long, tears were streaming down my face.

Through tear-filled eyes, I saw Master Attendant’s shoulders droop as he nodded, his entire body seeming to collapse.

“You… go back out… I need some space…”

The next day, Master Attendant straightened his back, stood before the unknowing people, and confessed to everything he’d done with brutal honesty.

The devout crowds fell apart instantly as the people went dead silent.

The following burst of shouting and cursing caused me, standing by Master Attendant’s side, to let out an unexpected sigh.

The people weren’t able to forgive my Master Attendant who poisoned everyone in the name of the gods.

Just as I thought we’d receive our well-deserved punishment for our mistakes, the two youths who once cursed at the gods stood between the crowd and us with arms spread out.

“Live and let live, if we weren’t so disrespectful back then, if we hadn’t made fun of their beliefs, why would High Priest have ended up in such a state. He’s willing to tell us the truth, and that’s enough, he’s an old man, just let him leave this place in peace.”

Seeing the youths who had once humiliated us before us now, my eyes brimmed with tears.

Thank you…… Thank you for keeping Master Attendant’s words with you all this time……

Aoi and the two youths escorted us out of the town. On the horse carriage, I looked back at their silhouettes waving at us, slowly disappearing on the horizon.

V. Laba Congee

Laba Congee’s master attendant was a highly regarded old priest.

Who had made a huge mistake.

With the dynasty’s turnover and the new emperor’s distaste for religion, the people stopped honoring gods.

This was still bearable for the old priest, but others’ humiliation of the gods was unacceptable.

He never forced others to have the same faith he did and would pray for their safety all the same, would send them his blessings all the same, but why couldn’t his god receive the same respect?

The resentment took root in him, and with the last straw, the dam broke.

The mysterious poison caused a plague to break out in the town and with the wool of panic pulled over the people’s eyes, being their savior, the old priest succeeded in having everyone kneeled before him in atonement towards the gods.

The old priest’s strange behavior was soon noticed by the clever Laba Congee, who used enlightening words to ignite his guilt.

Then, the old priest confessed to his sins before the people.

Unexpectedly, the enraged crowds remembered their disrespect towards the gods and their humiliation towards the old priest and settled down.

In the end, the old priest and Laba Congee left the town together.

After they left, the altars in the town that had been defaced were cleaned up and renovated.

Laba Congee and the old priest settled down in a small town extremely similar to their hometown.

Laba Congee was the same as always, using the little money she had to open up a soup kitchen, bringing bowls of sweet and fragrant porridge to the hungry.

After finishing a bowl of porridge, a hungry child wiped his mouth with a dirty sleeve and, with wide and bright eyes, asked.

“Miss, are you a god?”

Laba Congee blinked in confusion and squatted down.

“Why do you say that?”

“If you’re not a god, why would you be so kind as to give me food?”

“... We’re not gods, but we’re sent by God, he wanted us to share this food with you.”

“I want to thank this god! Where is he? Is it that old man?”

“No, God is always watching over us from above.”

“Then I’ll give him lots of offerings! Thank you, god!”

Seated by the soup kitchen, seeing the genuine earnest in the child’s eyes, a tear dripped from the old priest’s eye.

He seemed to have come to an understanding and put on a satisfied smile, but tears flowed down his cheeks non-stop.

Laba Congee stumbled over herself to wipe away the old priest’s tears and looked at her master attendant, who was suddenly crying, in confusion.

All the knots jumbled up in the old priest’s heart had been untied in a moment by the words of one child.

When the old priest passed away, he had lived a life considered long for humans.

At his deathbed, all around him were the followers he had gathered over years of good deeds, along with the child who had once earnestly given thanks to the heavens for just one bowl of porridge, who had become a father.

With a gratified look around, he sent them outside.

Sobbing softly as the old priest’s life flickered away, Laba Congee held the hand he stretched out to her.

“I once thought that just having faith was fine, but, they told me that a genuine belief meant so much more than a forced one. Being adamant in my beliefs, gave them an opening…”

With trembling hands, the old priest retrieved a letter from his pocket, enclosed in a black envelope.

“It’s them, that night, they found me.”

Laba Congee learned from him who he was bewitched by, and given the recipes.

It was a group of people in black cloaks, none of their faces discernable in the night.

Like devils, they bewitched the old priest, sending him down the wrong path.

Even knowing he was soon to leave this world, he spent much of his time after he realized his mistake to find their traces, to no avail. His unfinished business laid in the letterーsealed in the envelope of their “country”, that he didn’t get to deliver.

Taking on her last task from the old priest, Laba Congee denied his loved ones’ offers to stay around longer and set off on her own.

She knew not what she’d do once she found them, but she had a strong belief.

That she would not let those people bewitch others onto the wrong path.

She told many of her story so that they’d know the truth and prevent a rehash of the old priest’s mistake.

In her journey, Laba Congee encountered someone covered in blood and grime being overwhelmed by a flock of fallen angels. As the food soul was about to fall over, she reached out to pull them out from the constant barrage of fallen angels and ran.

Only when they were a long distance away did the person she escaped with talk.

“Why are you running, I can still fight them off.”

A slightly chilling female voice said, and Laba Congee stared at the slender and tall figure before her with shock, hand covering her mouth.

“You’re a g-girl!”

“...And I’m so sorry that my chest is so flat you couldn’t tell.”

“No no no no no I didn’t say anything about your chest!”

Laba Congee couldn’t hold in her laughter and handed her handkerchief to the other food soul, who was currently wiping her face with the back of her hand.

Toso sat before the bonfire with her jar of wine, eyes on the soft and gentle girl, and listened to her story of the group of people who brought with them misfortune.

Toso muttered under her breath a bit, before putting down her wine jar.

“They must be a group of ruthless people, let me accompany you on your journey.”

“Huh?”

“What ‘huh’, just take it as my repayment for you saving me. If you went alone, you’d be eaten alive by the fallen angels. Alright, that’s that, let’s sleep, long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Seeing Toso lie down back facing her and falling fast asleep quickly, Laba Congee was at a lost for a moment, before a soft giggle escaped her lips.

Unbeknownst to her, as she enjoyed a hard-earned moment of peace by the bonfire, the “country” she was looking for was on its way to destruction in a catastrophic disaster……

Notes

I think the last bit is about peking duck’s backstory...? There’s so many facets to this one event its great but also I can’t keep up lmao

You’ll see this tl ingame at some point.... in the future....hopefully not too far future...

Gonna do tteokbokki next i think, unless i get distracted

#food fantasy #translations #ff laba congee

[patricianandclerk]

May The Dread Wolf Take You

My Ask | My Ko-Fi | My Ao3 | Requests always welcome!

It was warm out in the Emerald Graves, but the Iron Bull didn’t think he’d ever seen Lavellan look so at ease. He was dressed in light Dalish armours, his feet in neat leather wraps, and for once, the hair was down and out of its bun, instead loose at the back of his neck with two braids holding it in place. He didn’t get to see all of the hair on display, outside of the bedroom, usually, and having it half-loose like this accentuated the vallaslin on his face.

It was nice.

The Vint muttered something under his breath in Tevene when he saw the Inquisitor come down to meet them, unbuckling the satchel from his belt as he came.

“I’ve been collecting shards,” he said. It wasn’t yet dawn, and Dorian and Solas had just come from Skyhold, trading places with Vivienne and Cassandra, who were keenly needed back up the mountain. They weren’t yet done in the Emerald Graves, though, still two more rifts to close up North, and more than that…

“You look well, lethallin,” Solas said, smiling. “This armour is new.”

“We met a Dalish merchant moving west,” Lavellan said. “Thought it would be nice to dress like a proper person for once. Vivienne has left in a huff, in retort.”

“I don’t know that she can leave without the huff,” Iron Bull murmured, and Lavellan smiled.

“You look good,” Dorian said. Bull didn’t miss the light catch in his tone, and he watched the Vint curiously, looking for a sign of something eager, maybe his usual flirtation, but for once it didn’t come. “I’ve never seen…” he trailed off.

“Get ready,” Lavellan said.

“Aren’t you full of energy?” Dorian asked, and there it was, back on his usual balance.

“Vim and vigour are my watchwords,” Lavellan replied, and turned to set the shards away.

“He was right, you know,” Bull murmured, coming up behind the elf as he set them in cotton packing, so that they could transport them a little easier when they were brought west to the Exalted Plains. “You are very energetic.”

“I’ve missed the forest,” Lavellan said, leaning back against Iron Bull’s chest, and Iron Bull slid his hands over his hips, bringing them up to press on his chest, feeling for his nipples under the light leather of the armour, and Lavellan sighed. “I know I won’t be able to dress like this when we go back to Skyhold.”

“I’d love to tell you you could,” Bull murmured, resting his chin on the elf’s head. “But I’d rather you walked around naked.”

“Yes, well,” Lavellan said, reaching back and cupping Iron Bull through his pants, making him hiss. “For two very different reasons, Bull, I won’t be doing either.”

“We’re ready!” came a call from Dorian. “Please don’t be having sex!”

“What if we’re quick?” Lavellan called back.

“How quick?” Dorian replied, and Bull slapped Lavellan’s ass. The sound rang out, and Lavellan let out a sharp little noise, but obediently moved out from the tent, and didn’t even reach back to rub the new sore spot, no matter how much it must hurt. “Oh, that quick!”

“No more play,” Solas said. “We have work to pursue.”

“Exactly,” Lavellan said.

He moved fast, in the Dalish clothes. It was easy to remember he’d been a hunter and a scout, even before the Conclave: he went up trees and stone outcrops like they were nothing, like it was just as easy as walking on the ground, and it was hot. That kind of speed and grace, it was pretty damned sexy.

“Scouts say there’s a rift up here,” Lavellan said, and pointed up the waterfall. It wasn’t a gigantic cliff, but it’d be a bit of a trek going around and up the overgrown, muddied path toward the summit, and yet Iron Bull could see the green glint reflected on the sky… “There’s a cave that leads through, from behind the waterfall. We needn’t even get wet, apparently.”

“And this cave, I presume, is full to the brim with arachnids of all sizes?” Dorian asked.

“It’s elven-built,” Solas murmured as they came toward the entrance, and his fingers glowed with light as he touched a stone face on the entrance to the path Lavellan had indicated, that seemed to lead up behind the waterfall. The rune on it glowered green. “A few hundred years old.”

He lit his hand up with fire, and they began to climb up the hill with him lighting the way. Bull brought up the rear, keeping Dorian and Lavellan between him and Solas. There were spiders, but not too many…

Iron Bull didn’t think he’d ever get used to all these ruins. All these things, abandoned, but still fit for purpose: here in this cave, they came across a place that had plainly been a camp once upon a time, with a stone fireplace that vented the smoke out through a few tunnels carved in the ceiling, with shelves carved right into the walls…

“They took all the statues,” Dorian murmured, looking to the few pedestals that were scattered about the room, empty.

“All but one,” Lavellan replied, smiling, and stepped toward the fireplace. In the very centre was a statue of a wolf, and Lavellan reached up, palms angled to cup its stone cheeks. He laughed, softly to himself. “This wasn’t here, originally.”

“How can you tell?” Dorian asked, falling to stand beside Lavellan’s shoulder.

“This is a statue of Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf,” Lavellan murmured. Still, he was smiling, still – it was fond. “He’s dangerous. We don’t worship him like we do any of the gods – he’s a mischievous spirit, more than mischievous, the Great Betrayer. His statue is never placed facing an encampment – he’s always stationed at the entrance, or facing out, to keep a watchful eye. A constant reminder to be wary.”

“You want to keep it?” Iron Bull asked. “You seem to like it an awful lot. Won’t be too heavy.”

Lavellan looked back at him, and smiled a little bit more widely. “No,” he said. “But thank you.”

“Could put it on your balcony,” Bull suggested. “Facing out.”

“Let’s move on,” Solas said. “Thoughts of exterior decorating should be put on hold, for now.”

--

It was a few weeks later, when they were back in Skyhold, that Iron Bull noted it again. They were in the tavern, and at the table, Blackwall, Varric, and Solas were playing a game of Diamondback with Krem. It was late in the night, and the tavern was pretty much empty except for them…

Lavellan was sitting beside the fire, a piece of wood in his lap, and he was carving, whittling. It was clumsy work, compared to Blackwall’s artistry, but when Blackwall had given him a few pointers, Lavellan had taken it patiently and attentively, like he took tutelage in anything. He liked to learn – that was something he and Bull had in common.

He’d have made a good Ben-Hassrath, if he was viddathari.

But then… He wouldn’t be him, Iron Bull supposed, if he was Ben-Hassrath – he wouldn’t be Dalish anymore, wouldn’t have his rebellion, his Dalish cleverness, his attitude…

“He walks on stealthy paws, wide and black and silent, and he comes right beside, oh yes, oh yes! Eyes gleaming, glittering, teeth a white glare, and he knows him, he knows him, Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf!” Cole was sitting beside Lavellan, his legs crossed beneath him, leaning forward and peering out from beneath his wide-brimmed hat, speaking softly. “But is he dangerous? No, no, he’s a friend, a friend! Not a friend forever, but a friend for today, tomorrow, until the end comes…”

Iron Bull glanced to the table. Solas was silent, his gaze focused on Cole, and Varric was looking up too, his expression curious.

“Is this your roundabout way of asking me a question?” Lavellan asked casually, his knife sliding smooth over the chunk of wood in his hand: the shavings he tossed into the fire.

“The wolf whispers and stalks the path ahead of him, clearing the way, but is he friend or foe?”

“He was both,” Lavellan said. “Neither. That’s his purpose.”

“You’ve met the Dread Wolf personally?” Solas asked, arching an eyebrow.

Lavellan laughed. “No! It was just a dream I had, when I was a child. Every now and then, I’d dream about him… It was the same every time, we’d be walking together through the woods. He’d protect me, but I’d protect him, too – from monsters, demons…”

“You trusted the Dread Wolf?” Solas asked.

“Yes and no,” Lavellan murmured. “I suppose it was those dreams that taught me you could trust without trusting all the way. Sometimes I’d wake up with his teeth on my throat… Other times, he’d lead me somewhere safe, show me something wonderful. I dreamt, once, of this palace made of crystal, and when I stepped inside it, it shined…”

He met Solas’ gaze. The elf was staring at him, apparently fascinated, and Lavellan’s lips parted: for a moment, he looked ashamed. “Sorry,” he said. Why ashamed, Iron Bull wondered? Did he really mean it, about the Dread Wolf being evil? “I know it’s… I was only a child, it was just childhood games, and dreams. It stopped by the time I was eleven or so.”

“You never told your Keeper?”

“My Keeper would have gone ballistic,” Lavellan said. “She’d have thought I was being led on by a demon.”

“You might have been,” Solas murmured, his voice serious. “Recurring dreams of that nature would make any Keeper worry.”

“No,” Cole said. “The memories are fresh and clean, sweet like summer tea – just dreams, just games.”

“You ever surprise me, lethallin,” Solas murmured. “Why don’t we deal you in?”

“You know what I just said about how trust only goes so far?” Lavellan asked, his lips quirked up at their edges. “I know better than to face you at Diamondback.”

“Wish I had his wisdom,” Krem muttered, and Iron Bull chuckled.

--

“Can I see the carving?” Iron Bull asked, and reached over where he was sprawled over Bull’s chest, pulling up the carving from the bedside table. It was almost done, and Iron Bull marvelled at the detail of it – it was a little clumsy, sure, but Lavellan had marked in the texture of the fur, the ears, even the paws had distinct toes. “He hasn’t got eyes. And his ears aren’t finished either, there’s no middle bit.”

“No eyes, no ears,” Lavellan murmured. “No nostrils, either. Not until tomorrow morning, where I put him facing outward, on the balcony.”

“You superstitious, huh?” Iron Bull asked.

“Just cautious,” Lavellan murmured, and set the carving aside so that he could pull Bull to kiss him.

--

“You want to know a secret?” Lavellan asked, sleepily, as he reclined on the pillows, fucked out, limbs sprawled wide, eyes half-closed, as Bull massaged his thighs, digging in for the knots of muscle he could find and soothing them away.

“Always, kadan,” Bull murmured.

“I still dream about him, sometimes,” Lavellan said. He sounded like he was dreaming already, drifting into sleep. “Still feels like he’s leading me somewhere.”

“Where to?” Bull asked.

“Out of the woods,” Lavellan said. “Or further in. You can never tell, with Fen’Harel.”

“How can you trust somebody while not trusting them?” Iron Bull asked.

Lavellan’s eyes opened, and he met Bull’s gaze. “Well, I suppose that’s the thing, Bull,” he murmured, tone rueful, expression serious. “You can’t.”

“Glad you realize that,” Bull murmured, and pulled Lavellan up to kiss him.

#as defined by dictionary #the iron bull #fen'harel #male lavellan #fanfic #dragon age

[zebraslovescupcakestoo]

You’ve got a friend in me.

My life is sometimes like news papers. Everyday is another issue... Mostly the ones you'd never believe it without solid evidence to back it up.

This is one of those times that would have been in front pages if we were found out...

Before who I've brought to my home, here's what happened earlier before this scene.

I was almost done with my shift of paroling one of the more peaceful streets. My kids are at one of their friends house for a weekend sleep overs, one of the privileges they only get if they're being good and done all of their homework for the whole week. My friend and my love, Sheba and Kitty, are having a girls night with things like watching that new show called 'I love Lucy.' So they'll be out late and I will have my moment of a peaceful evening if I have the chance...

Then I bumped into am odd character who came out from a bookstore. He had a blue suit, yellow pants and shirt, a pink tie and a ribbon on the blue fedora hat, and a light brown pair of shoes. He concealed his face with his hat a bit to avoid his face being recognized, but something tells me that I saw him before... He then noticed another odd character that I can tell he's from a mafia, judging from his stripped black suit attire and his smug look when he knew he found him.

Like any policemen would do, I had to protect the citizens, even if you don't know them well. I took out my badge to show him I'm mean serious business when I told him he's making the little guy uncomfortable. He may have been an average height, but with my size, he can easily picked me up with both hands. He was about to tell me off until he noticed his target has a present box with red ribbon on it. We both looked at him confused when he placed his hand on the present box's lid and opened it. It was a spring trap knock out glove!

His grasp let go of me and then I was dragged off by my victim now saviour to an empty alley way when we were far away and out of sight. As much as I wanted to thank him, I can't accept this kind of reckless act even if it was to save me. But just before I opened my mouth, his hat fell off and his iconic bangs fell off his sides and his unusual hair style had popped up. My hands clamped me up before any sounds escapes...

Even if I rarely read the magazines, I knew very well who he is....

And then we're here in my parole car in front of my house, just like at the beginning of this story I'm about to tell you.

“Is this your home? It looks so neat!” He said. “This is a great hideout for the moment! My hotel was a bit crowded with some reporters for another movie star actor. If you haven't offered me that chance, my visit cover would have been blown and ended both in the front pages of Chicago AND California. Bendy would probably made something mean out of it... May we go in now?” He then sounded like a kid who just made a new friend and... I felt like I'm a peasant that's gonna show an aristocrat my 'humble little home.'

I mean, what can you expect if your new 'friend' is the son of one of the most successful animator and he himself is one, apart he's one of the faces of Hollywood and one of the V.I.P list invitees must haves.

I'm talking about Mickey 'Mouse' Disney... THE Mickey 'Mouse' Disney. Right. Next. to. me.

And he's waiting at my door steps eagerly for me... almost like hell is in my state of mind. At the same time, my mind is asking me not why he's here in this windy city, but out of any other places we could have gone that's not too opened in public, why is my home the first thing on his mind?!

Anyways, I decided not to ponder much and let him in. I knew that my house is nothing like an upper class one with it's own bar, multiple bathrooms and a huge staircase that lead to probably Rapunzel’s tower. It's got family pictures, some decent furniture and just basic, average things in a normal home...

But that doesn't faze him. “This is sooooo interesting. Are these your kids? Do you have sweets? Sorry, I'm having a bit of a sweet tooth. Is your whole family here or not yet? I would love to meet them personally!” He sped talked while he looked with enthusiasm at all of my past and present family photos like he's never seen them before.

Like my kids, I think I need to settle him down a bit before he's gonna break something by accident with the way he's going.

“How about we talk more about it in the dinning room? Although the only sweets I have were peanut butter cookies that were made last night.” I had to tell him.

He wasn't mad like I would expect from someone with his reputation. “Oh no, it's fine! I used to eat my stash of Halloween candies all year round when I was little and they're still good even for a day! I love peanut butter anyways! Hey! That would gave me an idea on my next baking goods at my studio. I will take notes on that!”

Funny... I don't remember anything him being a baking type... then again, as a bookworm myself, you can't judge a book by it's cover.

As I passed over a plate full of those peanut butter cookies and a tall glass of milk, he munched down on one and said with a mouthful. “Yummers! I don't know you make these, except the recipe, but these are good!” Thankfully I've thought about having some napkins in case if we spill some. He then realized on his manners and quickly apologized as he used the napkins. “Oopsies! I'm so sorry. I totally forgot my manners. I was having constantly lunches with business men and stars that I was constantly keeping my appearances up. It can be really stressful, but I know that not exactly a good excuse. I'm really being rude, aren't I?” He sounded like he really didn't mean it on purpose.

“Oh, no, it's alright. When we're tired, we do sometimes have some tendencies to let our guards down without realizing and I can relate as a detective and a single parent-uncle.” I do my detective work half of my time and the rest is mostly on my kids and close family. Yeah, I can relate as much if I was woofing down my meals like I'm late or something.

He was surprised on that last part. “Single parent-uncle? What... happened?” He then showed some concern like other people would have done whenever I told them that. I knew that it's not something that I can dodge anytime, but at least it can give them some understanding.

Few stories later...

“I see... I'm sorry for what had happened to your older sister and your father. I shouldn't have asked something like that.” He sadly replied. “No, it's alright. Sometimes talking about it to someone who would lend an ear helps. It's nothing new to me whenever I met parents of my nephew's friends and some. I'm pretty much used to it.” I assured him. I've dealt with many things in life at an early age that it didn't bother me as much and I can tell he's not faking his iconic personality.

“To be fair, I too lost someone. My mother. She passed away when I was about a year younger than yours are... She might have died from an illness, but I know that feeling and what you've been going through at the time.” He said truthfully like from his heart.

“I appreciate your compassion, but we're alright now. We did had one of my uncles to come over to watch over us while I graduated and gone through the police academy training until I got the job and can financially support ourselves. I also had a few close friends who supported me as well, so it's not so bad when times get a bit rough at times. Really, we're doing great so far.” I assured him. I knew it's never easy in life, but I'm not interested to complain at every problem in my way and be over dramatic. If I want that, I'll go to one of the Broadway theaters.

It seems that I cheered him up a bit. “Well, at least you got them like I have mine. They looked similar to you and the other man from the older portraits, aren't they?” I nodded. “That's true. We mostly take from my father... except...”

“Except?” He tilted his head in curiosity. “They have emerald green eyes and I... I have my mother's eyes. They're a bit unique and I'm the only one who has them.” As much as I hate liars, I'm not even good as one. I was raised with honesty, unlike my cousin...

“Really? I think they looks so cool! I bet that golden color would make my big brother jealous!” Mickey complimented me. That IS a surprise for me. Nobody else had ever said that except my girl and friends... “Cool? Jealous? But... aren't they a bit.... odd?”

“No way! I think it's very unique and they do compliment your looks! I always think being different is a great trait. I mean, there's nothing wrong with wanting to be like everybody, but how do we stand apart if we want to be special? In a good way, of course.” He said with big sparkling eyes. I knew that he's known to be a positive person, but I didn't think he'd still be one when we're alone.

“I appreciate your compliment, but I've always been picked on because of these. It had died down as I grew older, but sometimes I get some odd glances at me.”

“That I can relate.” He took a sip from his cup of milk. “I used to be teased at my elementary school because I had natural curl buns.” He patted his right hair bun to imply.

“You? But didn't you used to be a child star? I remembered you in one of those cereal and juice commercials when I was younger. Many of my classmates would have begged their parents and have whatever you'd be having.” Normally, if I had someone in my class is somewhat similar to him, I'd be really impressed and wanted to try the same thing.

“Trust me, it's not that simple from my first experiences.” I raised an eyebrow at that. “From one side, in the commercials stand point, the products were either a hit or a miss. The cereals weren't as edible as it was, even with the milk and the last juice promotion that I tried, I ended up in a hospital for almost three days.” I gagged. I did had bad taste testing before, but I didn't expect someone like him to be any different. “Even if I DID had some success, there are still some who's still didn't like me. One time, there was a bunch of older kids ganged up and beat me. They even took my new drawing pad, colouring pencils and my new stuffed plush that my dad had gotten me.” I can see that he's not making this up as I heard this and felt a bit of anger from what happened to him at the time. “I'm... sorry. I didn't know you were that bullied at the time... Compared to mine, yours was so... worse.”

“Verbal or Physical, both are wrong. Yet, here we are.” He implied to both of us. “Me? I just pass on by along with some close friends and family. How did you ever do it?” I didn't think we'd have something in common. “Same as you. My brother was so mad when I arrived home to dad that day, he immediately knew who'd would do and got out the door. He came back two hours later with a bleeding nose and my stuff. What he did well... we did had to do explanations with the principals and we settled it peacefully. I promised.” I was surprised at that. His brother even got into to trouble for him?

Hey, that reminds me. I had to ask. “Your brother wouldn't be Oswald 'Lucky Rabbit' Disney? By any chance?”

From his expression, he looked like he was surprised from a birthday party. “You knew Ozzy! Where? How? And from who? I'm DYING to find out if people would know him as himself rather our family name or even me!” That attitude reminded me of my own when they're hyper for something... Normally, at a certain age they'd be more mature but then again, it could be a public image thing. Although, he seems he's being honest...

“Well... I've did occasionally picked up a magazine one time and er... I can only get so much on his interviews, clothing catalogs, his co-staring on a couple of movies including that movie 'Green Hornet,' his poster faces, his singing-!!!” I immediately clamped my mouth before I say another word. My face is probably red as a tomato and I think I might have creep him out. Please don't make a search warrant in my room for my memorabilia photos and clippings of him that I perfectly organized in a binder. Out of reach from my kids. Please.

“Why are you being shy for?” He seems that he's not bothered by the facts that I spoke. I stuttered a bit to make sense out of his unusual calm manor. “B-b-b-b-ut! Didn't I-i—i-I just... said something unpleasant?” I'm usually more mannered than this, what's wrong with me tonight? Overworked or is it because my guest is a celebrity? He shook his head. “No, I'm actually surprised that there IS someone who's a fan of him. Do you know what he used to respond to people who come up to him?” He then imitates his brother's voice and his cool and collected act. “Maximum of three questions. No betrayal. Immunity from prosecutions.” He then switched back to his self again. “It was one thing when I started out when they mentioned my dad, but whenever it was him, it's between him and me they wanted to know about more than himself.”

“I... I'm sorry. I thought he was pretty cool on his own.” I find he's more interesting to me...

“I'll be sure to let him know about it! He never shows it, but he really likes to be complimented!” He chuckles in content. I was a bit embarrassed, but I think I'm getting a bit warmed up around him. I can see why he's more likeable than what most people would have expected from a child star. He didn't mocked and look down at me, unlike a certain somebody I know.

I then felt a bit guilty for judging him a bit before. “I'm sorry...” He then tilted his head. “For what?”

“I... I thought you'd be more... well... I thought you'd be the opposite of what I expected. I don't like to judge too early, but I had a few experiences with wealthy types... I felt bad.” I admitted.

I was expecting an outburst but he was unexpectedly polite when he responded. “Don't worry about it. It happens all the time when I do interviews and charity parties. People would expect I'd be spoiled and rotten from what I was grown into, but I still kept my personality a positive one. I have a few close caring friends and family to thank for that.” I can safely say that he's not lying at all. He spoke the truth, ya reading, imaginary people from my mind!

“I'm glad you've understood and I appreciate your maturity. Not a lot of people at your age can be as mature as you can.”

“Trust me, I do act a bit silly at times, but my big brother usually helps me to keep my feet on the ground. He's one of the first to help me mature a bit, not just as a sibling instinct. I always did look up to him.”

I was surprised to hear that one from him. His personality and his brother's were a bit opposites of each others. “I know what you might be thinking! We both have WAY too many different personalities and stuff! Like our food interests for example! Me, I have a very high metabolism and I can eat almost anything. To be fair, I DO have to maintain a healthy diet so that I don't give a bad example to anyone especially the kids. My brother on the other hand, he's probably born without a sweet tooth. Even as a kid, he never really liked sweets except carrot baked goods. He's more on the health conscious side and he usually likes to make them home styled compared to high ends restaurants.” He said it in a detailed manner, smiling and thinking about him.

“He must be a much better chef than I am. I do occasionally cook, but I doubt I can achieved the same level as a five star chef.” I admitted another flaw about myself. “Oh, don't be! After hearing what you've been through, you're one of the admirable ones I wouldn't mind having a meal from! I'd be glad to help you out if ever we have another chance of encounter like this!” He beams his kindness from his signature smiles.

“I'm really thankful for your generosity. I wasn't asking for compliments..” I feel like I'm making a new friend since forever.

“I wished that... no, never mind.” He then suddenly felt sadden by something. I looked at what his eyes were diverted and I noticed that this morning news paper had a front page picture of Bendy. That's when it clicked in.

Again, I don't really follow on celebrity lifestyles, but I think anybody who lives around here or anywhere, KNEW that there's some 'unexplained' beefs with Bendy DeMon and Mickey Disney. I should have hid the papers away after I finished reading it... “I'm sorry! I should have thrown it away.” He puts his hand on mine when I reached it over. “No. It's alright. It's just between me and him.” He assured me forcing a small smile. I'd normally would have a thing or two to say about his 'true' character, but if it's gonna be public, I need hard evidence. ESPECIALLY in front of important figures like him.

“I knew he's always had hated me for many reasons, but I never knew how it all started... He wasn't like that when we first met as little as six... I remembered the first time we've visited here. I think it was some sort of a friendly visit of one animator director to another, but I did remembered him with his own cartoon plushie like I had mine we were both named after. I think we were a bit shy at each other at first.” He chuckled at that. “But after we both shared a big chocolate cupcake together, it was like we became friends. I think it was the only time he was really nice to me...” He sadly smiled.

I was a bit shocked. I can barely remembered what I did at that age, let alone Bendy HIMSELF being a 'nice' person. The only reason he can do charity works is so to keep the authorities out of his criminal business. Then again... the only information’s I got about him was that he was one of the elite five of the old Alfonso Mafia and the Leader of the New Alfonso mafia... His past is still a blur except for the Joey Drew Studio and it's history...

“I can still remember the times that I wanted to see him again, even when we're busy, I wanted to play with him. But after days came into years... I suddenly couldn't see him anymore. It was not until I was sixteen when I finally granted permission to visit here, with some exceptions.”

“Exceptions?” He nodded when I asked. “Yeah, I was given a few days, had to follow strict undercover rules and I had to bring someone I can trust. Last one was easy cause I had to bring my brother.” He playfully smiled on that.

“Upon arrival to the studio, it wasn't as well maintained as last time. At first I thought it was probably due to economic problems, but then I noticed that the owner wasn't the same one. It was his uncle who was running that place at the time... and I was in complete shock when I heard from him that our friend had ran away. We did our best to search him all over the city, but we never did.” He seems like he was deep in his thoughts. “It may be a bit cliche, but on the day we had to leave, I think I might have seen a glimpse of him from the taxi ride. It may have been a moment at a stop sign, but I think he was with someone who looks like Boris I believed he was named. Of course, it can be anyone...”

I really wanted to ask more about him and Bendy, but he seems like he's only having the fronts of his cruel personality...

“It wasn't until about two years back, when I heard about the 3rd Joey Drew Studio being re-opened and that I recognized that face too. I was so exited to meet him after all this time that I REALLY had to begged for a congratulation visit.”

“And... Then what happened?”

“Well... I was expecting like a warm welcome similar to what we had when we we're little. So upon arrival, I had to pick up one of the baked goods for a bakery with those chocolate cupcakes that we shared at that time...” He then went silent for a few seconds. “But he wasn't the same friend I used to know. When I arrived at his studio and we met face to face for the first time... He's changed. Not for the better. When I offered a package of the muffins so that we can share, he slapped them off and they all fell on the ground... That's nothing compared to what he told me on everything that had been wrong in his life and blames me on several things... It's not something that I want to discuss when it's ill mannered to speak about it... but they were hurtful. I'm still on to this day unknown on why he hated me so much.” I can tell he's holding more than sorrow in his eyes.

“Sorry, I didn't meant to bring an unpleasant subject.” He apologized. I need to think of a different subject. “How about your animations these days? You guys released a character based on your older brother from what I heard of.” He then lighten up a bit when I asked that. He told me an interesting story of the Lucky Rabbit and how he's actually returned to his Disney animation studio.

“...And that's how he returned to our studio.” He finished. “I can't believed that it happened at the party. I'm glad that Bendy didn't make more damage.” How did he even KNEW about it, I don't really cared much anymore. “I'm just glad that no one got hurt. My clothes can always be replaced, but I still stand on never selling or replacing that character to anyone.”

“That's one interesting decision for the future CEO of Disney Studios.” I smiled. He's not. Did I said something I shouldn't?

He noticed what I did. “I'm sorry. I knew you meant it as a compliment. But for me... I'm still not ready for such a position. Nothing like Bendy who's in charge of his own and we're the same age. Funny, eh?” He scratched his back head embarrassed.

“What? But I think your animations were pretty good! My kids loved them over Bendy's. Inky liked the new Oswald character and Winky still likes your cartoon counterpart character.” His cheeks were redden a bit “Aw, shucks! That's so nice of you guys! Even when there's more cartoon studios that does things differently from ours, that means a lot to us!”

He then finishes off the plate of cookies from the last one. “I always did love to draw. But I never had any intentions of taking over dad's studio until I was close to graduate. Many thought that I was coat tailing my way to the top and that I had it easy since I was his son.” He then took his last sip. “I don't wanna hear anyone telling me that ever again.” He glared down at his empty cup. “I wanted to prove that I'm capable of making beautiful animations without any influence from dad and I was just as competitive as any other artists I've met. I really took art classes seriously in my teens and I didn't stop until my wrists started to hurt so bad that I can barely use them for a few days... I know it may sound extremely ridiculous, but I wanted to prove that I'm capable of more than just a face of the family's business.”

“I can't say that I don't understand completely, but I do know that when I first started out, some people think I only did it because of my family were cops... My reasons was a bit cliche, but I really mean it when I wanted to protect the innocents.”

He smiled at that. “That's true. Which is why I wanted to be one of the bests, not just for bragging rights. I'm not gonna lie when I've applied to one of the strictest teacher when I wanted to challenged myself. The first lesson was so harsh that it took all of my strength NOT to cry in class. I did manage to understood on every single details not just for characters, but for the story settings, backgrounds, even choosing the colors were important! I do admit while I knew some things, there was somethings that I really needed if I wanted my animations to be a masterpiece apart from others one day.”

“Is that part of the reason why you're out here? Like, you're looking for something that you couldn't find back in California?” That would explain why he was out here, but couldn't he just ordered it?

“Actually, I was out here to meet an acquaintance of mine, which I wanted to respect his privacy to remain anonymous. I was stumbled upon that book shop I've come out by luck and greeted you and that thug guy. I guess today was a lucky day for both of us!” He sounded so optimistic when he knew that we almost got mugged earlier... I wished I can have some of his positive attitude sometimes so that life doesn't seemed so bad sometimes...

Wait! Speaking of earlier... What time is it? I glanced on the clock and realized at it was getting pretty late. “Oh, Ra! It's getting pretty late, even for you. I really need to drive you back to your hotel before anyone will report you missing. THEN they'll know you're here.” I got up and he did too while taking the plate and his glass. “Please, allow me.”

I was about to decline that he really didn't need to, but after passing me by, he really didn't mind putting away the dishes.

---Two weeks of newspapers later -----

Ever since that faithful encounter, I started to follow Mickey's lifestyle along with his brother's. Not just for gossips or anything alike, but I felt like I've understood him much better. I knew that I can't always relate to whatever it says on the interviews or headlines, but I do wanted to learn more about him, the REAL him and try to look from his perspectives.

I was having one of my rare day offs where the twins were again at a friend's house until evening and Kitty was out having her hair done. You know, the girl stuff. I was finishing the newspapers when I heard a knock on the door. I got up and went to see who it is, praying it's not someone that will tell me more unpleasant news than Bendy's 'special deliveries.'

Surprisingly, it was a delivery man who brought a special package for me. I was confused since I've never ordered anything or remembered to ordered something. When I had to sign the paper, I noticed a familiar logo and I then realized who really it was from.

Disney.

How? I wondered once the delivery guy was then on his way to his other deliveries. I decided to opened it up in my room in case of other unexpected arrivals came in and sees me with this. I carefully opened it up and as soon as I did, I saw two plushies. One was the cartoon Mickey and the other was cartoon Oswald. I noticed there was an enclosed envelope on top of them. I decided to read this one first. It said this following:

To my new friend, Felix.

I'm sorry that we didn't get the chance to talk more, but I wanted to say again thank you for what you did for me that day. I wanted to write that I've figured out your address by a stroke of luck when I noticed it on one of your letters that was out in the opened when you needed to get changed. I know that it may sounded that I might be too trusting, but I wanted to let you know that I wished to have a pen pal like you so that we can continue to talk more.

P.S. I've included a special card not only for the address, but also as a signature calling card if ever you needed help like you needed a new place to live for example. Ours will help pass our securities personnel without any fuss.

Write to you soon, pen pal!  Mickey Mouse Disney.

I was floored when he had written that. I was deeply touched, yet he really didn't have to do that! Public image or not, he is so kind. I looked at the stuffed toys again. I think they were meant for Inky and Winky respectively due to their colour preferences and characteristics.

This takes me back to when some of the people that were kind to us when we were having memorials at the funerals of when my uncles and aunts came for a visits with some gifts. I knew that they were being kind, but I don't want to spoil them too much.

Then again... I did needed a gift ideas for the twins birthday... but I felt like I'm cheating if I do!

I decided to put them in a safe place for now until I can decide later what I really should do with them. When I removed them, I noticed a picture frame-shaped covered over in a brown paper. I pealed off the first one and it was a stunning purple painting frame of a field of colorful pastel flowers on a hill and another. There was a forest on one side as to indicate it was from a natural side and it was painted in a nice sky blue color skies. I looked on the back to see it was for Kitty. I guess he remembered that detail, despite it was only once...

Guess we DO have another thing in common....

I then noticed another one like it underneath it. I set it aside to see that it is indeed another one, but this one is a different scene. This one had a black frame with the painting of the downtown streets of a city. It was around of an late night restaurant that had a waitress serving a man. It seems that it was taken from the outside of the restaurant cause I can see the streets and light on the side like I was standing out. I bet this is for Sheba... Yup. It's for Sheba.

If I never knew my friend, she wouldn't like the same taste as any other girls... Most of the time.

I then realized that there was one more item a the bottom. It may seems like another painted picture for me, possibly, but upon revealing it wasn't a painting. It was a photograph signed by Oswald! I immediately covered my free hand on my mouth to prevent my fan-boying squealing out! This is one of his best three piece suits and a super cool fedora that he wore in a magazine shoot for high brands. Oh my Anubis! He looks like Dean Martin and he signed 'To my fan, Felix. Oswald Disney.' He is just so.... AHHHHH! I never felt this happy in a long time! This is the coolest thing ever! None of my clippings of him can compare to this! Now for one final thing that was in here was a little card that was tucked to the frame. I opened it up to see that in case of emergency, they send their personal address along with all three Disney signatures from them like Mickey said it would. If ever I needed help...

I sighed in relief. It's been a while since anybody ever said that to me. I always did my best to stay strong, but it's a bit hard on my own sometimes. I'm very glad that I had a few close friends that helped me out in my hardest times before, now I felt like I have another friend that I can rely on if ever I needed an unexpected help in a sticky situation. I knew before that he was a famous person with a lot of benefits, but now I can see that there's more than his status and wealth from him. He's thoughtful, kind, generous and much more!

I decided to hid this back up note in a secret, safe place. I knew what he means and that he was being thoughtful, but I wanted to be a last resort of a thing. I hid it in a secret compartment from my violin case that I hid it very well from my nephews.

Long story short, they wanted to use one of my prized possessions other than playing music...

Speaking of the kids, they will arrive around supper and Kitty too. I think I'll prepare spaghetti and meatballs for tonight.

----Author’s notes------

I know that I’ve wrote a lot in Felix’s perspectives in my fanfics, but I just wanted to imagine possibilities of his close friends and future allies.

To start things off, I’ve had this theory before that Mickey is almost the exact counter-part of his animated cartoon character. He is optimistic and nice, but I was thinking that he also had that desire to be a bit more independent. Like he had that inferiority complex that because he was the son of Walt Disney, some people think he’s gonna have it easy and that he doesn’t need to do much. That would make him a bit more competitive and self improving on his animations. 

(PS: That is also one of the characteristics of a Scorpio! True story!) (He’s on the 19th of November, come on!)

The other Easter egg I wanted to throw in was the mention of The Green Hornet. It was originally from the black and white parts of a film back in the 40′s and then a colorful TV series in the 60′s. They then made a remake film back in 2011. Wink wink! Gadget ideas, Mars bar!

Also on a lighter note, if ever Mickey and Oswald wanted to do a song duo, they would be described as Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin. One that’s a hit and popular and the other smooth and calm. That’s the kind of combo vibes I’m getting from.

So at the end of this, I really hope to see new canon characters that are on the good guys side. I don’t have anything against the new bad guys and stuff, in fact I’m a Disney Villain fan too, but I just wanted to see a new GOOD GUY character one day or soon. Not just as an OC for his AU. *Cough* Mine for example *Cough*

BBTIM AU and Humanized Characters belongs to Marini4.

#bendy before the ink machine #bendy #Mickey Mouse #mickey #Felix The Cat #felix #oswald #oswald the lucky rabbit #humanized #AU #fanfiction #Marini4

[runephoenix6769]

Winter Schnee Head canon part 2 , younger years.

Winter Solstice. drabble, 

 Berdea Cid, (intro)

Fresh from being crowned the Atlesian fencing champion in 15 year and under category, with sash across her shoulder and trophy in hand, Winter Schnee had watched in slight confusion as her Father had berated her instructor of years, Violet.

He claimed her form had been sloppy, that she had taken too long vanquishing her opponents, what had he been paying for?

“But Father, I won!”  She had admonished, immediately regretting her momentary relapse in propriety as his eyes tightened and his mouth set into a grim line.

“That is neither here nor there. You missed opportunities and failed to take advantage of your opponent’s flaws!”

“But!” She began to protest.

“Enough!” He hissed, “Do I need to remind you that you are a representative of the Schnee Family name and shall behave as such! Now stand up straight!”

The hard edge to his voice had, like molten dust poured down her spine, made her instinctively correct her stance.

“Yes, Father.”

“You are a champion now! This is good for us.”

He had laid a firm hand on her shoulder and he had guided her towards the door and the waiting press, ever the proud parent, as the cameras had flashed and questions asked. The crowd had been far too big for a simple fencing tourney,

“What is next for you Miss Schnee?”

She hadn’t known what to say.

Her Father, ever used to the PR machine that surrounded the Family name, answered smoothly.

“Today, the eldest of my children,” He had pulled her to him, in an uncharacteristic one armed Fatherly hug, “Has done me proud. Never for a second did my faith in her winning today waver.”

The admission of approval had sparked something in her, if only she could savour this moment, somehow replicate it.

A journalist had pushed to the fore front,

“What do you say to those who stand opposed to your treatment of Faunus workers?”

Her Father had brushed off the comment with a chuckle,

“This is a sporting event, hardly a political rally. Now if you please, I would like to take my daughter home and celebrate our victory with the rest of the family!”

A shout came from the crowd,

“Murderer!”

He had remained composed as the crowd had jostled, the Schnee family security becoming tense,

“Now, now, I assure you, we at the Schnee Dust Company are doing all we can to save the lives of the trapped workers..”

The crowd had erupted, throwing projectiles and screaming obscenities. Winter and her Father had been ushered by their security into a nearby town car.

Once inside the car, his mood had soured. Pouring  a drink he had turned on the scroll, muttering about filthy animals as Lisa Lavender commented on the ruckus.

And just like that, Winter and her victory was forgotten.

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The family gathered round the long table in the cavernous dining hall. A rare occurrence but the occasion called for it as her younger sister with barely concealed excitement, waited as patiently as a 10 year old could on their birthday. 

Weiss’ and Whitleys eyes sparkled as the huge ornament cake, topped with an ballerina made of fondant on top, was wheeled into the room. The servants moved silently and Winter shivered, the fire in the monstrous hearth unable to heat the icy distance between her parents.

The candles on the cake lit, Weiss shifted excitedly in her seat, as Winter remained erect but eyes fixated on spot particular whorl in the cherry wood table. 

“Another glass of wine, Ma’am” 

Willow nodded, 

“Thankyou Klein.”

Jacques let out a scoff as the man servant began to decanter the Mistrali wine. 

Looking up at her sister, Winter offered a warm smile as the young girls eyes reflected the candle light a top the cake. If only she could keep her innocence a little longer. 

Her eyes darted to the side as she felt her mother,

“Jacques, I went to the office today.”

Winter held her breath, her heart thumping. As of late she had heard them arguing and the escalation to all out screaming matches, often resulting in her mother sobbing behind the doors of the conservatory had become more frequent. 

To her left, she felt her Father’s anger rolling off him like aura. 

“Oh really? Is that where you went?” He flippantly replied, “I assumed you had gone to meet the other useless socialite housewives.”

She felt her mother bristle. 

“I want you to reverse the new policies.”

Jacques let out a barking laugh. 

“Im serious Jacques. If my father was alive he would be appalled.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Winter witnessed as her fathers mustasch twitched at the corner in an evil smirk. 

Please, she thought, not today. Not on Weiss’ birthday. 

“Well, my dear, your father isnt here, is he! And I am the one out there making the decisions the company needs to in order to survive.”

“In the blood of those less fortunate?” Her mother spat. 

Weiss’ bottom lip began to tremble  and under the table Winter balled her fists. 

Her father preened, 

“It is how capitalism works my dear.” 

Willow took a languied sip of her wine and Winter could feel the brewing storm. Whitley kicked his little legs against the chair. She watched as her mothers features drew up and down, her eyes becoming sorrowful. 

Please dont do it, Winter once again internally begged. 

Fingering the stem of her glass, Willow fixed Jacques with an almost mournful look. 

“Did you ever love me?”

Winter’s heart clinched as she watched her Father, his stare as cold as the Atleasian tundra, as he steepled his hands, leaning forward on his elbows as he replied, with callous indifference, 

“I only married you for the company and the name.”

Winter let out the shaky breath she was holding, watching as her mother’s face crumpled. the servants remained in the shadows. The silence broken by the crackling of the fire, as Willows quaking fingers rose to her lips. Her Father gave a wicked smirk. Willow let out a racking sob as she in one movement got up, fleeing the room. 

The candles on the cake, flickered and died

Whitley let out a howling bellow, Weiss eyes brimming with unshed tears. 

“Oh for gods sake, will someone see to that.” Jacques roared. 

A servant stepped forward, Winter moved, brushing off the offered help. 

“It’s ok.” She scooped Whitley up on her arms, “I shall see to him.” Offering out her other hand, she encouraged. “Come Weiss.”

The little girl scooted off her chair as quickly as she could, clutching her sisters hand like a lifeline. 

Clasping it, She led her siblings out the room, noticing just how tiny and frail her younger sister’s hand felt in her own. God, had she ever been that tiny. 

Quickly, she carried her younger brother and sister to her own room, attempting to sooth them as they fretted. Klein appeared, offering his help which she gladly accepted. 

“They can sleep in here tonight, stay with them until they are settled, I shall be back shortly.”

Swiftly she made her way through the hallways to the east wing, approaching her mothers door with trepidation, the sobs reaching her ears from beyond. 

Steeling herself, she knocked before silently entering, only to be met with the room in disarry. Her mother’s usually neat bun coming undone, her pretty features bloated and ruddy. 

“Mama,” Winter began.

Her Mother drew her into a hug. The mixture of perfume and alcohol burnt the teenagers nose, and she squeezed her eyes together so as not to cry. 

“Promise me dear sweet Winter, you must get away. “ Her mother tenderly stroked her face, “Promise me, you shall find a way to leave.”

Winter sniffled 

“Yes Mama”

“He wont let you go so easily.”

“I know Mama.” 

She helped her already unsteady Mother into her bed. Tucking the sheets around her. Leaving a kiss on her forehead. 

She heard her Mother mumble drunkenly as she dimmed the lights. 

“I am sorry.”

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CONVO BETWEEN WINTER AND HER NEW SWORDS MASTER, BERDIA CID.  ROUGH WORK

“I want to learn how to fight!”

“And why do you want to learn?”

“I want to leave!”

“And where would you go pampered little Schnee?”

“Atlas! I want to go to Atlas academy!”

“They will not accept you on fencing tourneys alone!”

“Well, how do I get there?”

“You must show that can defeat the most terrifying creatures,”

“What?Grimm?”

“No, your name! It will be your greatest weapon and your greatest weakness.”

“Once you leave these walls , no one will stand for you.  No one shall protect you against those that mean you harm. You are hated. They will say.. ‘Look at her with her money and her name, that is the only reason why she is here’. You must prove that you are the best and nothing but the best, with or without your heritage.”

“Stay here, where you are safe,”

“No!!!”

“what would you do!”

“I am more than a name!”

“Show me!”

  Berdea tells her that the only way to get noticed and to be considered for entry into any academy is by competing at a tourney against other kids from signal and other junior academies..  Kids who had trained with aura, some unlocked semblances. Kids with other styles and weapons, on different terrain and environments.. 

All which Winter lacks.. But she is determined to tread this path. If not for own sake, then for that of her siblings. 

She begins to practise summoning..

If you would like Willows pov , feel free check out Willow Schnee Theory in the tags. 

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