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flooffybits · 3 years

Text

Important

Idol: Wong Kahei (Loona)

marshmallow: Since there's still no Vivi scenario 👀 how bout a fluff one where during idol room the host (d*ni and c*ni) were joking around saying that the 13th member is the ugliest and dumb and didn't have her any chance of answering when they play a guessing game. Basically treating her badly then the others. So after the show Vivi notice she's been feeling down for a couple of weeks and not really acting like how she use to so Vivi comforts her with other members🥺💜

A/n: finally my first Vivi request, done. also i hate d and c for various reasons that i cannot discuss or else i just might not write anymore

☕buy me a coffee☕

You were used to hate comments thrown your way.

You were used to fans comparing you to the other members.

You were used to people still questioning why you were added in the Loona lineup.

They’ve stopped bothering you after a while, your members making sure that you didn’t believe the things other people said and assured you that you were just as important to the group as any of them,

However, you were not used to being publicly humiliated, and on live television, no less. So when Coni had made the careless comment about how you may not even give your team a chance at winning, you that was already enough to knock your excitement down, given that you had been looking forward to spending time with your members during your visit to Idol Room.

“Y/n.” Doni had called for your attention and you look up, blinking by the suddenness as he addressed you. “What are you in charge of?” He questioned and you felt a little bit more relieved with the question. “Well, all the members are good at everything. So we just sometimes switch on who takes the lead.” You explain and he nodded his head.

“So that means you stay at the back?” He joked, the two hosts soon cracking and you smile awkwardly with all the cameras rolling whilst your members looked a little surprised by the comment. “With so many members, I feel bad that you’re always overshadowed by their beauty and talents.” Coni then added and that had caused you to press your lips together in a thin line whilst Sooyoung looked a bit offended with what he was insinuating.

But you didn’t want to cause a scene, so you went along with it and chuckled lightly. “I guess so. My members are all really pretty and talented.” You miss the way Haseul glances at you, worry in her eyes, and Hyejoo silently glaring at the two hosts.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure a bit more practice and then you can reach your members’ level. Plus, you still have a lot to learn, your Korean is still barely understandable.” That had caused you to bite the inside of your cheek, deflating as they had addressed one of your worries when you first came to Korea.

It was no secret that you were insecure about yourself, especially with your communication skills, but the way the pair had blatantly called you out for it had only boosted that insecurity.

Your members couldn’t speak up, knowing that it wasn’t a good idea to make a scene, but luckily Hyunjin had been subtle with her attack, her face blank as she watched the two hosts.

“Y/n’s pronunciations are actually really good. She works really hard just so she makes sure that it’s easy for both her and the people she talks to.” Doni nodded his head in agreement. “Diligence is one of an idol’s key traits. Have more of it.”

They weren’t expecting the rebuttal, but Heejin had visibly grown uncomfortable and Yeojin shuffled closer to you when they were starting to realize how you were becoming more and more the target of the duo’s harshness.

Chaewon’s brows raised at the audacity they had to publicly shame you, but held her mouth shut when Jinsoul placed a hand on the small of her back.

They tolerated the rest of the show for the sake of the group’s image, but every comment thrown your way made them all increasingly upset, though you’re good with keeping up a façade just to keep the peace within the room for your members.

The pair made you feel more and more isolated as the show progressed. And while you did your best to participate, they seemed to make it a point that they weren’t at all interested in you being there. Throughout the whole segment, you could stay on your seat and watched as your members slowly began to be immersed in the games they had prepared.

Eventually, you had stopped trying and merely smiled, opting to be the spectator the hosts expected you to be, and merely clapped and congratulated your members when they had gotten an answer right.

In the end, you were just thankful that they had forgotten about you. It was better than being degraded and being the butt of the joke.

But as you left the set that day, you couldn’t say that you had the same level of energy compared to when you had arrived.

And no one could really blame you.

Right as the episode had aired, you made it a point to stay off of social media and threw yourself into work despite not really having to do so. The girls wondered and worried with you constantly heading to the company to practice, but no one seemed to have the capability of bringing it up or calling you out, not when you looked you were just about ready to fall apart at any given second.

Kahei could only watch as the days passed, hoping that you could recover and bounce back because she hates seeing you so down. She’s used to seeing you running around the dorm, running away from Jiwoo’s affectionate assaults or trying to get Jungeun to lighten up whenever she started scolding someone.

In the end, Jungeun and Sooyoung calls for majority of their attention, both looking unpleased as the girls came into the living room, minus you, Heejin, and Jinsoul due to your schedules.

“We need to talk.” Sooyoung announces while she grabs her phone from the table. “Is this about the laundry again?” Hyejoo groans, not wanting another lecture after the last time her pillow exploded in it, but the two older girls shook their heads, and the girls could see that this was a more serious topic.

“It’s about Y/n.”

Kahei stiffens and her hands clutch at the pillow resting against her lap before Haseul placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We know that she hasn’t been well.” Hyunjin muttered, frowning when she remembers how you’ve resorted to avoiding some of them now.

Jungeun taps on the blue bird icon before twitter popped up. She turns the device around to show the group what her and her fellow leader wanted to address.

ApologizeToY/n was under the trending topics and the sight of it made all the girls frown before they saw Orbits commenting about Coni and Doni’s clear and explicit mistreatment of you during the show and how uncomfortable you’ve been throughout it.

“This is everywhere and I doubt Y/n hasn’t seen it, either.” Chaewon sighed while slumping in her seat, arms crossed as she scuffed her slippers against the floor and Yerim pouted as she scanned through the tags.

“Can I just say how I hated how they treated her?” Hyejoo speaks up, and honestly, no one could blame her. They all felt the same thing, so it wasn’t something they could hold against her.

Kahei pulls her pillow close to her chest, her mind replaying the hesitant look on your face whenever you were all together. You didn’t have to tell her, but she could see the insecurity in your eyes every time she would see you looking at everyone.

It was as though you were silently comparing yourself to them.

“Is there something we can do?” Haseul asks, hoping for any suggestions that would help ease the situation, but no one can think of anything at that moment and Kahei looks up at the leader with her lips pressed together. “Would you mind if I talk to her first?”

The girls know that there was something that was going on between you and the eldest member. Though neither of you have confirmed anything, they knew that Kahei’s affections for you were on a far more different level compared to the way she would take care of the rest of the members.

So, without arguments, the girls agreed, whisking Jinsoul and Heejin away when the three of you arrive after a long day and Kahei thinks that it’s the best time as any, now that you were alone in your room with everyone preparing whatever it was they decided would help cheer you up.

“Y/n?”

The call of your name is enough to make you roll over on your side, spotting the older girl peeking inside your room with a small smile gracing her lips. She knows that you’re tired, but she doesn’t want to keep seeing you look so down.

“Unnie, what’s up?” You try to casually ask, sitting up in bed and indicating for her to come in, which she does without hesitation, quietly shutting the door behind her before she had walked over to your bed and took the space you made for her to sit next to you.

Her embrace is something you easily welcome, the tension leaving your body, even just for that moment when you lean against her. You let out a deep breath and she squeezes your shoulders before a kiss was placed atop your head.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” She whispers softly and you immediately frown at the implication. Of course the girls could pick up on your withering state. They made it their personal mission to look after you ever since you arrived.

“I know you won’t say anything first, so I’ll be the one to do it.” Kahei cuts you off from thinking further as she speaks. “What they told you back at the Idol Room, it’s not true, okay?”

She shifts so that she’s looking at your face, one hand cupping your jaw so that you can’t look at anything but her because she needs you to listen to her instead of your thoughts.

“You’re an amazing singer, Y/n. Frankly, you’re perfectly fine the way you are and I hate how you’re letting these two people who know nothing about you make you feel like you’re not worth being here when you are.” Her voice is firm as she speaks, making sure to get her message across because she knows that you’re often too stubborn to believe them when they compliment you.

“We’re young and our career is only just beginning, so there will always be room for improvement. Plus, we’re both not from Korea, so of course not everything will be as easy for us as it is for the others, but has that ever let you down before?”

She doesn’t let you answer when she continues, not once breaking eye contact. “Everyone is here to help us. We’re a team for a reason. While we won’t always excel, we’re always going to wait for each other because that’s what a team - what a family does. So please, stop thinking that you’re worth less than anyone here because you’re just as important.”

Her voice grows softer after each word when she ends her sentence and you’re incredibly calmed by it as she brushes her thumb gently against your cheek when her forehead lightly bumps against yours.

“You don’t know understand how much it hurts to see you like this and all I want to do is take that pain and doubt away.” She murmurs and you shut your eyes, basking in the warmth that she had so easily provided before feeling soft lips pressing against your forehead.

You both stay like that for a while, just cuddling on your bed with her fingers combing through your hair. She doesn’t probe you on how you’re feeling, but seeing that you weren’t frowning nor were your shoulders slumped made her feel that you were a little bit better compared to before.

It’s when her phone vibrates with a text from Haseul that Kahei looks away from you and her brows pinch together when she sees it.

Why would the leader have to text her when she was just outside?

everything’s ready!

Confused, Kahei forgot that the girls were all getting something ready for you in the living room. So with a quick okay, the older girl gives you a small nudge before she’s nodding to the door. “The girls are calling for us.”

You don’t say anything, but the confusion is clear on your face as Kahei takes your hand and leads you outside, a smile on her face when she intertwines her fingers with yours just as you spot the rest of your group huddled together and you can’t help cracking a smile at how comedic they all looked.

Sooyoung looked awkward as she offered you a smile, Jungeun standing next to her, looking as though she had just finished scolding the younger girls who were trying their best to keep the snacks on the table while, for some reason, their own favorites kept disappearing, only for Hyunjin to place them back.

Heejin was silently counting everything to make sure that they had enough, only to restart every time Hyunjin would put the stolen snacks away and ensuing the pair to start arguing whilst Yeojin finished another one of her bead rings and Haseul just shook her head as Jinsoul tried to bite back her laughter while telling Jiwoo to keep her voice down.

“What are you doing?” You ask, an amused lilt to your tone as you properly assessed your members while Kahei grins and shakes her head, mimicking your leader when everyone snaps their attention to the two of you.

“It’s movie night!” Yerim happily announces while she’s trying to keep the remote away from Hyejoo’s hands and the latter grumbles. “I want to pick the movie!” She exclaimed, but Chaewon plucked the remote from Yerim’s hands, an already opened snack in her other hand. “We should ask Y/n what she wants to watch.”

“But unnie!” The second youngest was already staring at you with her puppy eyes that she often uses on you when she wants you siding with her and you smile softly before pulling Kahei to join everyone else in the living room.

Haseul slips next to the older girl, smiling when she sees the look the other sends you as you accept the bead ring Yeojin offers whilst trying to control the other two maknaes.

“Things went well, I hope?” The leader questions and Kahei hums with a fond smile playing at her lips. “I guess so.” She replies, seeing that you were slowly reverting back to your cheerful self when Heejin and Jiwoo join in on the pile you’ve all ended up in when Hyejoo tried stealing the remote again.

There’s laughter echoing in the dorm, add Jungeun’s slight screeching and Sooyoung’s scolding, but Haseul bumps her shoulders with Kahei while everyone is busy doing their own thing and finally picking a movie to watch. “So, have you both properly talked about it or...?”

Kahei stares at you when Jiwoo and Jinsoul begin to press kisses on your face, Yeojin coming in right after, and she smiles a little to herself. “Not yet, but we’re getting there.”

And honestly, that was enough for her as she soon took the spot next to you once given the chance and her arm loops with yours before she’s laying her head on your shoulder.

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capcarolsdanver · 3 years

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A Christmas Carol

Summary: You’re left with the disappointing fact that you will likely be spending yet another Christmas without your girlfriend, Carol Danvers. Your friends offer you support, but all you really need right now is your girlfriend to return from space to be with you for your favourite holiday. Can you count on a Christmas miracle? Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader A/N: Well... it’s not quite Christmas still, but I severely underestimated how busy I would be over the holidays, so please enjoy this late Christmas fic! Feedback is always appreciated so please let me know what you think! Please do not repost any of my writing anywhere else without my permission.

The annual Avengers Christmas get together is in full swing, and your eyes sweep out across the room to all of your closest friends around you. Of course, everyone’s having a great time, and the open space of the large party hall at Avenger HQ is full of laughter and joyous chatter amongst the guests.

Thor, who still doesn’t exactly understand Christmas, just seems happy to get to spend time with his favourite people. He brought along a generous supply of Asgardian alcohol for those who have what would be classified as a very high tolerance to alcohol, so as expected everyone is in a very joyous mood.

You yourself had found a spot on one of the couches surrounding a small table and had barely moved the whole night, feeling more in the mood to spectate in the festivities rather than participate this year.

Not to say that you’re sitting on your own in some miserable slump, because you are genuinely trying to enjoy everybody’s company, but you can’t deny the Carol-sized void that is particularly evident anywhere you go. Especially during the holidays.

As if to emphasise it, Steve, who’s sitting opposite you from across the small table, catches your eye.

“So, Y/N. When’s your lady coming home?”

He asks you kindly, with a warm smile, as Steve always does. Despite this, you can’t help it when your own smile falters and everyone sitting in your immediate proximity grows quiet, regarding you with sympathy.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Steve rushes to say when he seems to realise his mistake.

“No, don’t be,” you’re quick to reassure. “I knew what I was getting into when I started dating Carol. I can’t exactly expect space crime to conveniently stop in time for the holidays, can I?”

You choose not to bring up that this will be the third Christmas in a row that you have to spend without Carol, but you still feel the pity practically radiating from every person in the group.

“Okay, who else thinks it’s time for shots?” Sam yells loud enough to be heard over the music by everyone, and the group seems to loudly agree. You remind yourself to thank Sam later for successfully shifting everyone’s attention from you.

Everyone scrambles to each grab a shot. You remain seated on the couch, and moments later Nat takes her own spot on the couch next to you and presses a shot glass into your hands just in time for everybody to simultaneously start counting down from 3.

Somewhere between shouting and cheering, everyone downs their shots, and you all seem to collectively wince. You and Nat both grimace at the burn of the alcohol and it manages to get a chuckle from you.

Nat drops her shot glass on the table before she turns to face you again.

“So. Real talk,” she raises an eyebrow as if warning you not to try to back away from the conversation. “When did you last speak to Carol?”

“A couple weeks ago,” you admit, sighing. “She left on some mission about a month ago. But you know how it is when she’s working up there. It’s so hard for either of us to contact the other.”

Nat smiles sadly. “I’m sorry.” She pats your knee and you shrug at her, though you feel like you’re able to let your guard down a bit now that everyone else in preoccupied.

“Yeah, it sucks,” you let out, feeling Carol’s absence hit you all over again. Your eyes fill with tears that threaten to spill over.

Unexpectedly, and uncharacteristically, Nat pulls you into a hug. You give yourself little time to think about her rare show of affection before you gratefully wrap your arms around her and rest your chin on her shoulder.

“Did she tell you how long the mission might last?”

You shake her head. “No, she just said she might not be able to contact me until she was done.”

“Okay, I think you need another drink,” Nat says, releasing you from her arms. “I’ll be back.”

You quickly wipe at your eyes at the chance of any rogue tears that managed to fall and smile at her before she stands up and heads towards the bar.

————————

On the morning of Christmas Eve, you wake up with a start to some kind of commotion going from somewhere outside the room. You quickly survey your surroundings, remembering that you had decided the previous night to just stay at Avengers HQ after the party, like almost everyone else had. You’re in your old room that you used to live in before you and Carol had moved out together.

The commotion that had woken you up appears to still be going on if the shouting from somewhere outside your closed door is any indiction, so you begrudgingly get up to go investigate.

You follow the loud intrusion of sound into the kitchen, where you aren’t all that surprised to find Bucky and Sam shouting and gesturing wildly at one another.

“Dude, don’t lie. You literally stole my pop tart straight from my plate!” Bucky looks livid. Opposite him, Sam throws his arms out away from his body, matching Bucky’s outrage.

“You have no proof, you moron.”

“Why do I need proof when there was no one else around? It couldn’t have been anyone else.”

You continue watching their exchange, entirely unsurprised that they are blowing up over something as small as a pop tart. You’re half considering just heating another pop tart to shut them up when Nat leans on the wall next to you, taking a sip from her steaming mug of coffee while her eyes also land on the boys.

“Bet you’re glad you don’t wake up to this kind of thing everyday in that fancy apartment of yours, huh?”

“You can say that again,” you laugh. Though, of course, you probably do prefer waking up to these regular early morning antics from the boys than to the empty silence of your apartment whenever Carol isn’t there with you.

“You’re still coming with us to look at Christmas lights tonight, right?”

To be honest, you’d completely forgotten about Steve’s plan for you all to go on some Christmas light trail that night, and although Christmas is generally your favourite holiday, you find yourself not really in the mood to celebrate it this year.

But then again, anything to take your mind off of Carol’s absence sounds appealing to you right now.

“You bet.”

————————

You trail the group, looking around you at all the incredible Christmas displays people have decorated their homes with. There was absolutely no denying how beautiful the entire street is, but as much as you try you just can’t seem to get out of your own head.

Steve’s leading the group and you can hear them all excitedly chatting, pointing out particularly well decorated houses, but you’re content to linger towards the back of the group and take everything in on your own. You know you’re lacking the Christmas spirit needed to participate with them right now, anyway.

A solid hand is suddenly falling around your shoulders, successfully shaking you from whatever broody train of thought you were on as you almost jump out of your skin. Your head snaps to the person you were now attached to, seeing Thor’s wide smile. He tugs you closer to him in an almost brotherly fashion.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is,” you manage, after your heart beat finally slows back down to a normal rate again.

“Ah, you’re yet to hear from Carol, I presume?” Thor asks. You’ve gotta give him credit. As much as he’s completely enthralled by the Christmas lights surrounding you, Thor can still pick up on your solemn mood with remarkable ease.

“You presume correctly.”

You see Thor hesitate for only a moment before he speaks. “Might I offer a few words, Y/N?”

“Sure,” you say, sighing. What could you lose from hearing what he has to say? Plus, the Asgardian usually provided you with some pretty solid advice.

“Please give Carol a little patience. I know firsthand how difficult it can be to communicate with you all while I’m not here.” You soften at Thor’s words, not even aware of how tense your body was. “You all are my family. And it hurts when I’m unable to talk to any of you whenever I’d like,” he explains. “So, please just remember that Carol is likely just as anxious to speak with you as well.”

“Right,” you say more to yourself. Thor’s words somehow do make you feel some kind of comfort in the fact that Carol wasn’t choosing to go so long without talking to you. Not that you thought she was, but the reassurance helps.

Thor squeezes your shoulder in comfort and loosens his grip from around your shoulders, but before he can leave your side again you grab his arm.

“Thank you, Thor,” you say sincerely, and he gives you an understanding smile before leaving you to your own thoughts again.

At some point a little later, Steve seems to notice from his spot at the front of the pack that you’re still lagging behind, because he drops his pace to fall into step with you.

“Are you having a good night, Y/N?”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you smile. As distracted as you’ve been, it’s hard to miss how much fun the others in your group are having. “Thanks for organising this, Steve.”

He returns your smile and nods. “Well, for most of us, we’re all we’ve got. I figured it was time to start making some traditions of our own.”

“Well I like that sound of that,” you say. You really do appreciate everything Steve does for every single one of you, and he was right. You are family. Personally, if it weren’t for the Avengers, you would have no one else. You know the same applies for many of you, the man you were currently talking to included.

“Hey, listen,” Steve says in a considerably more careful tone. “I wanted to apologise again for bringing up Carol last night.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” you reassure him, shaking your head.

“I know, but-” He shrugs. “I just feel bad about bringing her up when we were supposed to be getting into the Christmas spirit last night. I mean, what is this, your second Christmas without Carol?”

“My third, actually,” you mutter, clearing your throat and dropping your eyes to the pavement in front of you.

“Shit, here I go again,” he curses, watching you. “I’m sorry.”

“Steve, stop apologising,” you say firmly. “Seriously, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

You take a scan of your surroundings. The street sign catches your eye and you realise you’re only a few blocks away from your apartment, which sounds like an awfully appealing place to be right now. You were exhausted from your previous late night, plus, what little Christmas spirit you did have has been all but spent this far into the Christmas light trail.

“Oh, you know what? We’re pretty close to my apartment. I think I might call it a night.”

Steve’s eyes widen and his features settle into a look of guilt. “You aren’t going to come back to HQ with the rest of us?”

“Nah, I think I just want to head home. I’m pretty tired.”

“Oh man, I totally ruined your night, didn’t I?” Steve shakes his head at himself, his look of guilt deepening even further. “I can’t believe I brought Carol up again.”

You interrupt Steve’s inevitable continued apologies before he can even start.

“Steve, no. My brain was never going to turn off tonight, anyway. It wouldn’t matter if none of you mentioned Carol the entire day, I still would have thought of her.”

Steve looks fairly unconvinced, still clearly internally scolding himself. Though you notice his features soften and eventually he nods.

“Do you need someone to walk with you?”

“I’ll be fine. It’s really not far at all.”

“Alright,” he hesitantly agrees. “But we’ll see you in the morning to exchange gifts and everything, right?”

“Right,” you laugh. “Hey, do me a favour and let everyone else know I left early. Nat would never let me leave a group activity early if I told her I wanted to.”

“No problem,” Steve laughs.

You give his forearm a quick squeeze in thanks, waving to him before you make your way towards your apartment.

————————

You’ve barely even made it a block before your phone starts ringing. You fish it out from your pocket, assuming that it’s Nat, calling to berate you for leaving the group early. Without even checking the caller ID, you answer.

“I don’t want to hear it, I’m not coming back,” you say, not leaving opportunity for the person on the other line to get a word in first.

“Coming back to where?”

The voice on the other line is not Nat. In fact, it’s the last voice you were expecting to hear tonight.

“Carol?!” You practically squeal into the phone, stopping dead in your tracks.

“Hey, baby,” she says and you instantly melt, having gone weeks without hearing her voice.

“Oh my god. Hi,” you greet back, feeling like you could burst into tears at any given minute.

“You okay there?” You can practically hear her smirk and the image of it in your mind makes you smile.

“Yeah, I just can’t believe I’m hearing your voice right now.”

“Well you better believe it, babe, because it’s definitely happening.”

Your brain finally recovers from the shock enough to ask a vital question. “Wait, does this mean your mission is over?”

“Mmhm,” she confirms. “Finished a couple days ago, actually, but this is the first chance I’ve had to be able to call you.”

You can’t help the sudden hopefulness that you feel. If the mission ended a couple of days ago and she was already on her way back to Earth, then it was entirely possible that she could be back within the next day.

You let out a deep breath, your emotions almost getting the best of you. With your mind racing a million miles a minute, you subconsciously start taking some more steps forward. The snow beneath your feet crunches slightly with every step you take.

“Where are you?” She asks curiously, and you assume she’s heard the sounds of your footsteps.

“Uh, I’m on my way to the apartment.”

“Wait, you’re walking to the apartment? Alone?!”

“Hey, I can handle myself,” you chuckle. “I am an Avenger, remember? Besides, I’m only a couple of blocks away.”

“Oh yeah?” Her voices lilts slightly. “Why are you even walking the streets at night, anyway?”

“How do you know it’s nighttime? Doesn’t everywhere look like night in space?” You can’t help but tease and Carol laughs.

“Well, is it nighttime?”

“…Yes,” you admit. “But that’s nothing more than a lucky guess.”

“Uh huh,” Carol replies, and you can hear her smirk through the phone again. The things you would do to see that smirk in person at this moment…

“Anyway,” you interrupt your own train of thought. “I was with everyone up until a few minutes ago. We were out looking at lights.”

“Lights? What kind of lights are so special that you’ve gotta go out in a group to go look at them?”

You’re left dumbstruck for a moment. She surely hasn’t forgotten what time of year it is, has she? You’d only reminded her about a month ago, and she knows how much you love the holiday. You assumed she would have remembered.

“We were looking at Christmas lights,” you clarify.

“Oh. Well now it makes sense,” you laughs. “Isn’t it a little too soon to be looking at Christmas lights, though?”

You’re hit with the fact that she’s actually forgotten what time of year it is. You try to shake off the sudden disappointment, though you’re a little too aware that if she has forgotten the date then she likely hasn’t begun her journey back to Earth just yet either. Which means another Carol-less Christmas for you once more.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” you eventually mutter into the phone.

“It is?” She sounds vaguely surprised at your clarification. “Huh. I guess it’s pretty easy to lose track of time up here.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

“So you’re heading back to the apartment?” She continues on as if you hadn’t just revealed to her that your favourite holiday is mere hours away. You can’t exactly be mad at her, though. As she said, it’s easy to lose track of time while she’s doing important work up in space. “Why not HQ with everyone else?”

“I just felt like being home, I guess,” you explain. “I wasn’t in the Christmas spirit and we were pretty close to the apartment, so I decided to head home early.”

You hear Carol hum in acknowledgement as you use your keycard to get into your apartment building. You start up the flight of stairs leading to your apartment.

“So, when do you think you’ll be back?” You can’t help but ask. Realistically, you have known for weeks that Carol likely wouldn’t make it back in time for Christmas. Though, with Christmas Day only a few hours away, and your short-lived hopes of her returning any day now, the disappointment of her not being here is fresh once again.

“Soon,” Carol says vaguely and you frown.

“Soon? That could mean anything,” you complain. “Don’t you have at least some idea of when you’ll be back?” You can’t help the slight bite to your tone, the frustration of everything seemingly growing by the minute.

You fumble with your keys, your current conversation leaving you preoccupied enough to struggle with the basic task of locating the correct key on your keychain to grant you entrance into your apartment.

“I don’t know, babe,” you hear Carol say and you finally unlock the door, pushing it open and walking into your apartment, slamming the door shut behind you. “Why don’t you tell me?”

Her voice sounds suddenly different, louder, and you twist around on the spot until you’re facing your living room.

You gasp when you see her. Carol is standing beside your Christmas tree. Her eyes are on you and she still has her phone pressed to her ear. The only thing that rivals the bright lights of the tree is her wide grin, bright enough to light up the room all on its own.

Your wide eyes refuse to blink as you look back at her. You’re suddenly all out of words.

You watch as Carol takes one step closer, and then another, until she’s closing the distance between the two of you. The closer she gets to you, the softer her smile grows.

“You’re here,” you whisper into your phone. Carol lowers her own phone, coming to a stop directly in front of you.

“I’m here,” she returns, her own voice barely above a whisper too.

“Hi,” you say dumbly and Carol smiles adoringly at you. She gently takes your phone from your hand and drops it down onto your couch along with her own.

“Hi.”

Before you know what you’re doing, you abruptly tackle her in a tight hug. If she weren’t Captain Marvel you might have been worried about her balance, but she remains steady, wrapping you up in her strong arms.

Without even realising it, tears are spilling out of your eyes and running down your cheeks, and you let out a deep breath you weren’t even aware you were holding, pressing your face into Carol’s neck and breathing in her scent. You feel the lightest you’ve felt in months.

Carol hears your sniffling and takes a step back to look at you. She keeps ahold of your sides.

“You okay?”

“Are you kidding?” You choke out a laugh amidst your tears. “I’m more than okay, Carol. What are you even doing here?”

You still can’t believe your eyes. You can’t believe that the love of your life is standing right in front of you when only moments ago you still believed that she was in outer space.

“What, you really thought I’d let you spend another Christmas without me? It’s your favourite holiday, you know?” She lets go of her hold on your left side to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “You know how much it killed me having to miss the last two Christmases with you.”

You shake your head in disbelief, completely in awe of the woman in front of you.

“I love you so much, Carol.”

“I love you too.” She barely has time to get the words out before your mouth is pressed against hers in a kiss that’s long overdue. You only pull back for a moment when your smile literally grows too big to continue kissing Carol. You both break into laughter, giddy at the joy of finally being together again.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You say the words that repeat over and over in your mind. Carol’s intense gaze regards you and she smiles at you sweetly.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas, Carol,” you reply before your lips are meeting hers again.

————————

The next morning, you wake up to the sound of Christmas carols playing from the living room and the smell of fresh coffee drifting in through your open bedroom door. You can hear Carol softly singing along to the music, and you smile sleepily.

Nat was right. You’ve never been more glad to wake up to the sounds of your apartment than you are right now.

#carol danvers imagine #captain marvel imagine #brie larson imagine #carol danvers x reader #captain marvel x reader #brie larson x reader #mcu imagine #carol danvers #captain marvel #avengers #mcu #mine #fic

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brook-182 · 3 years

Text

A Poisoned Chalice

Chapter 1

As soon as Warriors saw the army-sized horde of monsters he knew it was going to be a long day. The Links had been travelling together for months and the packs of monsters they had encountered during that time were less than half the mob they currently faced. They had covered the forest in this Hyrule fairly easily, only a few stray bokoblins bothering them. Yet the minute they stepped out into the vast openness of the prairie they were spotted and surrounded by swarms of monsters that had been a trademark feature in his Hyrule ever since the war.

“What even are these numbers? I’ve never seen monster camps this big, even in my Hyrule,” Wild gawked.

“It’s just our luck,” Legend grunted as he clashed swords with a moblin that towered over the grumbling hero. “As soon as we finally make it out of those goddess-damned woods we get attacked. I’m willing to bet someone’s getting nicked today. We've been far too safe for far too long.”

“Ah, always the optimist,” Warriors retorted after he impaled a chuchu, a wave of gelatinous blue gunk spreading over the grass at his feet. “Can you at least try to be positive for once?”

“Easy for you to say, Captain,” the veteran shot back. “You’re used to mobs like these.”

Legend wasn’t necessarily wrong, but even Warriors hadn’t expected to be ambushed like this in a foreign land.

The battle raged from noon to dusk but, unbelievably, contrary to Legend’s pessimistic prediction nobody was seriously hurt. But even with everyone righteously exhausted, Twilight, their current Hyrule’s patron, noted that there was a village nearby where the Links could spend the night instead of camping out and restock on supplies in the morning.

Without further delay, the group made their way to the village.

So with the day’s events behind him and the safety of an inn to revel in, the captain dragged his feet through the hall and stumbled into the small room he would share with Legend and Sky. After doing the bare minimum of taking off his armour and kicking off his boots he flopped onto the bed, thoroughly worn-out.

“I know you’re tired, but don’t you want to get more comfortable?” Sky asked, noticing Warriors’ less-than-cosy position. The hero simply grumbled in reply as he sat up and took off his tunic, launching it to the far side of the room before he fell back onto his pillow and closed his eyes. Sky sighed. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

Warrior slept like a rock the minute his head hit the pillow. The bed was comfortable and warm, and the room was dark; the perfect atmosphere for a peaceful sleep. However, no matter how many people Warriors knew were with him, his rest was not without dreams.

~~~

He was seated in the palace dining room for some reason, an elaborate feast spread out on the grand wooden table before him. He wouldn’t have thought it that strange if he wasn’t the only person in the room, however. Well, he and a figure he could feel staring at him from behind his back. The captain turned around to see who was standing there and found the figure to be shrouded in heavy shadows.

They stalked closer, the darkness following them as they walked. The faceless shadow silently set a large platter of food from the feast in front of the knight. He was about to refuse the meal when his hand unconsciously picked an apple off the plate and he greedily devoured it, seemingly much to the satisfaction of the figure, who was eager to pile more food onto the plate. Again Warriors began eating against his will.

The food seemed endless, an abundant cornucopia of fresh fruit, stews, meat and vegetables.

After consuming many helpings of food Warriors was deterred by his full stomach and stopped his ravenous feasting. The figure, now next to him, lifted a spoon full of stew to his lips but the captain refused it. “I don’t want to eat anymore.” The shadow simply urged the utensil closer until Warriors had no choice but to open his mouth to protest. “I don’t-”

He almost choked as the spoon was shoved forcefully into his mouth, the offender leaving no room for protests. He wasn't sure how he could tell that the figure was growing impatient by his squirming, but he was no longer a willing participant in this feast. He reached his hand out to try and stop another onslaught of food when he found that his hands were firmly bonded to the armrests of his chair. His legs as well were bound to the floor.

“What is this? What did you do to me?” the captain said, glancing up from his bonds to look the figure in the eyes, except he was no longer there. Replacing the shadow was a man he hadn’t seen in nearly six years. “Thomas? I don’t understand. You’re supposed to be-”

“Dead? Gone? Forgotten in the middle of a nowhere region?” Thomas laughed. “Glad to disappoint you.”

“They sent you to Faron.”

“And yet here I am, willing and eager to give you the best treatment a hero could receive. Now, you must be hungry after saving the world and all. Come on, open up!”

Another spoonful of food was messily shoved into Warriors’ gawking mouth. When he recovered after nearly choking on whatever nasty concoction was shoved into his mouth- at this point he wasn’t even sure it was food- he struggled vainly against the chains securing him. He was too afraid to argue, too afraid that he would get another mouthful of whatever Thomas was feeding him. He felt sick, his stomach too full and the meal too vile to keep down.

“Aw, are you feeling unwell, Captain? That’s too bad, I almost feel sorry for what I’m about to do.”

Without warning, Thomas pried open the captain’s mouth. Warriors jaw was clamped like a vice but somehow Thomas had the otherworldly strength of Ganondorf himself and was able to separate his lips without effort. The captain saw him reach for a chalice on the table behind him. The cup was filled with a sour-smelling liquid that’s colour and fragrance reminded him too much of wine to be something else.

“Sto-” Warriors started to cry but a mouthful of alcohol followed his plea. He hastily gulped the liquid and tried to beg again, trying and failing to stop Thomas from continuing this torture. When the chalice was empty and he got a chance to breathe, the effort making his stomach hurt, he asked, “why are you doing this?”

Thomas laughed lowly, his deep voice echoing on the cavernous walls. “Why do you think I should?”

As Warriors was about to reply a feeling of weightlessness overtook him and before he was able to process his surroundings he was in a new setting entirely.

The training grounds of the castle were not an odd sight for a soldier of Hyrule, but the sheer number of training dummies left without partners to train was startling. There were over one hundred wooden dummies and nobody besides him in the courtyard.

He heard a voice on the balcony, a feminine voice like water trickling in a cavern, a quiet echo carrying her soft words. “You know what to do, Link.” It was Zelda.

The master sword was in his hand. He felt his grip on the blade tighten. He was afraid, but of what he was uncertain. He held up his sword, his grip loosening as he made a practised jab at the wooden dummy that suddenly emerged before him. The blade slid straight through the chest of a soldier that hadn’t been standing there before. Warriors jumped back, shocked and horrified by what he had just done. He recognised the face, he knew the person he had just killed!

“Don’t stop,” he heard and turned sharply to the sound of general Impa’s voice. She was calm as she took in the scene before her, and Warriors wasn’t sure if she’d witnessed the same thing he had. He reluctantly shook off his anxiety and brought his sword down on another inanimate dummy. But he was convinced this must have been a strange hallucination or test as the once-wooden figure once again turned to the flesh of a soldier he recognised. He gasped and nearly dropped his weapon when the soldier fell dead to the ground.

“Don’t just stand there! Attack them!” That was Cia! Why was she there?

He didn’t have time to think about that though as he cut and sliced dummy after dummy- soldier after soldier- killing them almost instantly, blood and gore carpeting the once clean courtyard floor.

“Do it!”

“Cut it down!”

“Fight for your kingdom!”

“Do the right thing!” They cheered as he single-handedly reduced the numbers to a mere handful.

He was shaking as he made the final attack on the last still soldier. The captain sank to the ground with a strangled cry along with the body of the man he had just slaughtered, unwilling to look the three spectators in the eyes. He was crying, feeling unbearably guilty for what he had just done. Why did he not stop? He knew every single one of the people he just killed, but he hadn’t stopped. He couldn’t hold back his sob as he looked at the dead eyes of the man before him. He shared a room with this soldier. His name was Neil. He ate with him, fought with him, and finally killed him. He wanted to scream, he wanted to attack whoever was responsible for this rampage, but he only had himself to blame.

He felt the familiar taste of bile before he was startled by the feeling of hands wrapping around his throat.

What was happening?!

Warrior woke with a start, the leftover emotions from his dream prominent on his face. He was shaking. He felt sick to his stomach. He gagged and jumped to his feet, looking for the bucket of drinking water Legend had collected for the room. He threw the water out, not caring about the soaked wood under his feet and knelt in front of the bucket. He heaved and retched until he felt his abs ache. He couldn't even remember half of his dream yet he was still terrified of whatever had caused this reaction. He couldn't make himself go back to sleep. Through the adrenalin, he still felt so tired but he would rather keel over than reimagine whatever nightmares his mind had conjured up.

Warrior took several deep breaths, but he couldn’t control the flow of tears streaming down his cheeks. He choked on a sob, trying to stay quiet for his companions’ sakes. But it seemed Legend had already woken up to the sound of his retching.

"What's wrong?" Legend asked groggily, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he shifted in his bed. "I heard someone being sick." He looked around the dark room and spotted Warriors on the floor. "Pretty boy? Are you okay?"

Warriors bristled at the nickname but let it roll off his back. After debating on how to answer the question he decided that lying to Legend wouldn’t get him anywhere since the vet would simply just pry an answer out of him anyway. He couldn’t give Legend the whole truth though, even if he wanted to. “I’m fine,” he said shakily, exhaustion still thick in his voice. “Just a bad dream. Go back to sleep.”

“That must have been some dream if you’re losing your lunch over it.” Warriors didn't have the will to comment on Legend's statement. Instead, he kept silent, his mind already swimming with vague images of his dream. Legend rolled his eyes so far back he looked possessed. “Well, I don’t know about you but I can’t sleep in the same room with a bucket of puke. I’ll come with you to throw it out but I’m not touching that,” he said and Warriors almost heard the genuine concern in his voice.

“How generous,” he huffed but accepted the company nonetheless. “Just don’t make a big deal out of this,” he said. As he stood he felt his pants cling to his legs and noticed with annoyance that the water he threw out of the bucket was all over the floor and his trousers. “Great,” he muttered.

“Better change those pants. There’s a chill in the air and we don’t need you getting more sick than you just were.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Yeah, yeah, just cool it. Now come on, you look like you need some air.”

After a quick change of clothes, Warriors followed Legend outside. Sky- by some divine miracle- was still fast asleep so they quietly shut the door behind them.

They were silent as they walked through the corridor and down the stairs, nobody willing to make small talk or ask questions. But Warriors could feel Legend’s eyes on him, looking for any reason or excuse to bring up what had happened in the room. Finally when they reached the outside Legend spoke.

“I’ll take care of this,” he said, scrunching his face and gesturing to the gross bucket the knight was carrying. “Just go back to bed.”

“But you said-” the captain started to argue, but he was promptly cut off by Legend’s exasperated response.

“I know what I said, just go before I make a scene.”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“Did you not hear me?” the veteran screeched and Warriors couldn’t hold back a snort. He held up his hands placatingly and went back inside to the room. He eyed his bed for a long moment before deciding that pretending to sleep was probably the only way to get Legend off his back for now. He got under the blankets and closed his eyes, trying his hardest to look convincingly at peace while his mind was still racing with fear and guilt.

About half an hour later he heard the door creak open. He could hear Legend speaking muffled nonsense as he got into the bed next to him. Warriors did his best to even out his breathing to fool the veteran. There was a brief pause. He could feel Legend’s eyes burning a hole in his skull before he heard an audible huff and the sound of a body hitting a soft mattress.

He was about to celebrate his successful hoodwink when he heard the vet mutter, “go to sleep.”

He wished it was that easy.

A gigantic thank you to @autumnalchemist for being my beta❤❤ Much appreciated, friend😊

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #warriors angst #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #lu fanfic #please enjoy #angst #this has been in my wips for many months #apologies

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gofancyninjaworld · 3 years

Text

OPM Manga Chapter 139 Review: Abyss

Story: Unexpected Blast

Perspective matters. From our perspective last chapter, the hole that should be a hole is full of a curled up figure. We start the chapter with Flashy Flash, Saitama and Manako trying to make sense of something in the blackness. Try as Manako might, she can bring no light to bear on whatever’s out there. They’re interrupted in their investigations by a voice. This voice invites them to touch the cube and let it grant them their wishes... if it wants... like the world’s worst genie.

For more see under the cut! This is a long one!

Before they can consider the terms the infernal cube is offering, what happens but your regular rip in spacetime that just so happens to deposit the much-mentioned but never seen hero, Blast? He grabs the cube, spins it on a finger and off it vanishes into another dimension, along with the outraged shrieks of the being who wasn’t finished tempting Saitama’s little troupe. Blast is nice enough to take them to the surface, although not before explaining that time is running slow in the hole. So don’t expect Flashy Flash and Saitama anytime soon.

...I must confess I’m distracted by Flashy Flash’s ass and heels.

Anyway, back to the now. Directly on the heels of Orochi being cast down, we watch the heroes who weren’t part of the monster-bashing festival acting as the rearguard, but mostly spectating. Well, Child Emperor isn’t spectating -- he’s deep in a personal crisis from having erroneously excluded Genos and Bang from participating and wants Zombieman to take over command. As Sweetmask pooh-poohs the idea, Zombieman demurs, pointing out that the boy’s ability to admit error and seek to understand make for the capacity to improve.

AND THEN! FATALITY! Zombieman shoves Child Emperor out of the way just in time to catch the fireballs of Homeless Emperor, ugh.

The rearguard is under attack, but unfortunately no help is forthcoming as everyone else is transfixed (metaphorically) by Tatsumaki transfixing (literally) Orochi using the former Subterranean city as a skewer. It drives Orochi into the earth, twisting and smearing him as it goes, until he finally expires in front of an altar where there’s a mural depicting a suspiciously Orochi-like figure receiving sacrifices. Gee, I wonder what that means? Orochi dying where he was born, always sweet.

Well, the scumtastic monsters collectively known as the cadre are finally bubbling up to the surface. They’ve conveniently waited until their boss has taken the punishment and tired out the really big scary heroes they don’t want to tangle with. This is going to get nasty.

Meta: Evil Space Lawyers and other beasts

You didn’t read the small print

I don’t know the anon who wrote to me to point out that the confiscation that ‘God’ spoke of is exactly the same as the word used when He took away Homeless Emperor’s powers and that it’s a legal term He used. Evil Space Lawyer indeed. Setting up and executing unilateral contracts without notice.

We don’t know much about God yet, but so far, the people who we do know He’s ‘helped’ have been exceptionally homicidal freaks acting out of a deep-seated hatred of humanity who’ve been all too willing to use their powers to inflict sickening harm on the world.

Keep spoiling his fun, Blast!

You know, I’m pleased to meet the coolest uncle in the world, Blast, but honestly, there isn’t much *to* him. At least, not yet. Sure he’s cool. It’s great to see that Blast really is an exceptional hero who can spoil ‘God’s’ fun -- at least better than he can kill off giant monsters. Yes, it’s neat to see that he has a means to get around to the unlikeliest of places. Yes, it’s nice to look at his eyes and realise that Blue is telling no more than the truth (characters in OPM usually are). But okay, and? So? I’m sure that he’ll be back, and when he is, we’ll have more reason to care.

I do enjoy the detail of showing how he’s been ageing over time through the discrepancies between characters’ memories of him and how he is in the present day.

Sitch really was just telling the truth when he said that Blast was someone who wouldn’t be ordered around. I’m not wondering either at Sekingar saying that Blast is semi-retired and only a handful of executives can get hold of him. It all fits.

I freaking love that the various jack-in-the-box reveals are being destroyed and turned into more organic story-telling. ONE has the space, he may as well, as it also clears the way to do deeper storytelling about both the OPM world and its denizens.

Sit down, be humble

Man, the small but interesting changes between how Flashy Flash’s Very Bad No Good Day unfolded in the webcomic and the manga continue to amuse me. He’s been buried in an undignified position and dug out by a pair of clowns. His beloved Instakill has been murdered by a hyperactive midget with a twitchy index finger. And now the worst thing of all, not feeling like he’s the fastest thing on the planet has happened now once, but TWICE.

Heh, I wonder who Flashy Flash will take his wounded ninja pride out on.

Oh, the humanity!

Parentification is when a child is pressed into the role of taking on adult responsibilities to make up for unreliable adults. It’s been a big problem that Child Emperor has been struggling with and I was both heartbroken and hopeful to see Child Emperor admit that the impossible position he was in was, in fact, impossible. I wouldn’t call his decisions bad -- under the circumstances, with no one by him to advise, they were the best decisions he could make. The outcome of the decision was just very unhelpful.

I was more than a little sad when the upshot of Zombieman’s kind words boiled down to Child Emperor still being left carrying the can.

Speaking of humanity, it’s a gimme for web comic readers that Amai Mask is speaking without turning his head to look at Zombieman. So far, he’s been able to hide his shame from everyone, that he’s turning into a real monster. But for how much longer?

In passing

Fun little thing. As Manako lights up the world, just look at Flashy Flash’s body:

A second fun thing: Child Emperor’s memory of Genos being a mix of actual observation -- the lack of spikes -- and what he preferred to remember. Choosing not to remember that he was naked, good boy!

Btw, between Flashy Flash, Saitama, and Blast, that’s three of the four known cape-wearing heroes in one room. Nice!

#OPM #meta #long #review #Blast #Saitama #Flashy Flash #Child Emperor #Zombieman #Amai Mask #'God'#the mystery of the cube has an answer #and it's good to meet the character Blast behind the mystique

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lov3nerdstuff · 3 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.34}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 3.3k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

As was to be expected, they didn't come across anyone on their way back down to the ground level, where they parted ways to see matters through more quickly now. Snape went ahead to get Robin's belongings from the office and then proceeded to his rooms already, perhaps starting on the parchments if there was time. Robin meanwhile went into the opposite direction for now, to collect the girls from the astronomy tower and return them to their dorm. They'd been up in the cold long enough at this point, and she also needed them to confirm her alibi that wasn't quite what they thought tomorrow morning. Everything else would look suspicious.

"You've got twenty seconds before I'm up there, so better hide what you don't want me to see." She called up the stairs in advance to ascending them, after she'd locked the door to the tower behind herself, just to give the girls a fair warning and evade the possibility of having to scold them. Then she made her quick way up the tower and soon was met by four innocently smiling faces. Four, because obviously Jorien had somehow managed to find her way to this little gathering as well once she'd been done with her work.

Surprised, Robin quirked an eyebrow at the girl in question. "How did you get up here?"

"I told McGonagall that you'd sent us all up here to do something important for you, and she let me know that the door would be locked and how to open it." Jorien shrugged easily, but with a bright smile up at Robin. "Now you're not the only one anymore who knows how to open classrooms."

"Congratulations." Robin huffed in irony, and obvious amusement over the girl's excitement. Then again… when she'd first learned the spell herself, she had been quite excited as well. It didn't matter now, she had an alibi to construct. "Either way, I'm back now, so you won't have to hold watch anymore. Thank you though, all of you, for helping me."

"You're most welcome. It was our pleasure, and I'm sure the boys will freak out when they hear about all this tomorrow!" Cas grinned in an instant, but still none of the girls made any move to get up.

"C'mon then, we should all be heading back down into the dungeons. It's nearing one o'clock if I'm not mistaken, and I don't want to be responsible for any casualties tonight." Robin added on after a moment of having all four girls grinning at her with too much mischief on their faces.

"Actually…" Cas started innocently, and Robin already knew this wasn't going to end well for her. "We were hoping that you'd play a round of truth or dare with us. We were just in the middle of that when you came back, and it's a Saturday after all. Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"Guys…" Robin sighed in nigh defeat when all four girls looked up at her with desperately hopeful expressions. "Another time, okay? I really don't have the energy nor the mindset for that right now."

"Oh, but we've been waiting for you to come back and sit with us all night!" Cas whined, making the best puppy dog eyes she was capable of. "You'll be gone soon and then we can't have any girl nights at all anymore, not with you at least, and you've never even had a real one! Pleaseeee…"

"Cas…"

"Please Robin, it's not even that late… And you're done with your challenge now, aren't you? Surely you have ten minutes to play a game with us before you go on to do whatever important thing you have going on this time." Melissa picked right up where Cas had stopped, much to Robin's dismay.

"We don't want to hold you up long, really…" Lisa added more carefully. "But we've all really been hoping that you would play a round with us at least."

"We have so little time left with you still here at school." Cas took over the argument again, still looking at Robin almost reproachfully. "You deserve some fun memories! We all do, together…"

When nobody else made an attempt to add any more words of protest, Robin closed her eyes for a second to fight the urge to cry out in frustration. Gods, didn't they understand that she had more important things to do than to play a stupid little game?! Of course they didn't… how could they after all? All they knew was that she was their friend, and that she spent ridiculously little time with them nonetheless. They really did deserve better than yet another adult in their lives who kept on choosing other, more important things over them. Robin had seen enough of that behaviour in her own parents to know how much it could hurt. Perhaps that's why she couldn't make herself say no now.

"Fine." She said instead, more tersely than intended, but it would have to do. "Ten minutes will be alright." With that she dropped down on the blanket they had spread on the ground, and elegantly crossed her legs underneath her while keeping her eyes on the girls around her.

"Alright, if we just have ten minutes then we will have to change the rules a little." Cas was quick to clap her hands with a gleeful smile. "The four of us take turns asking Robin questions, and if you don't want to or can't answer one, then we all have to answer a question of yours in return. Would that be amenable?"

"I honestly don't care." Robin sighed, but her indifference passed by the girls unnoticed. "You have ten minutes, and in those I will comply with anything you make me do. After that however you will return to the dorms with me without protest."

"Agreed." Cas grinned, and Melissa and Lisa nodded eagerly in return. Only Jorien currently seemed to prefer spectating over participating, but Robin let her be, in the knowledge that she would oblige without protest either way.

"Go on then, ask me all you please." Robin said, keeping her back straight and her hands calmly clasped in her lap. "Not that you couldn't do that at any other point as well, but since you obviously prefer this game format, get started then."

For the first few minutes, the girls asked only questions Robin had no problems answering. She didn't deem her answers particularly interesting, but the girls seemed quite content with their game, so she kept on patiently obliging to their every inquiry. It wasn't terrible, but certainly holding her up longer than she had time for currently. Snape wouldn't be all too concerned by her delay, seeing as she'd already told him when they'd parted that the girls most likely wouldn't be brought back down into the dungeons without a discussion. The problem was rather that she currently couldn't focus on much but the sheets of parchment down in the dungeons that likely held the answers to her future.

"Next question!" Cas announced with mischievous grandeur, then turned to her right. "Melissa's turn, isn't it?"

The girl nodded, then thought for a second, and finally smiled broadly. Obviously the topics were about to change from easy to hard now. "Do you have a crush on someone?"

"No."

"Are you currently in a romantic relationship?" Cas asked, obviously based on her prior knowledge and the previous question, and Robin would have glared at her if she hadn't been too tired to.

"Yes." She simply said instead, keeping her facades neutral as ever. Cas, Melissa and Lisa seemed to be rather taken aback by the honest reply in an instant, while Jorien however merely gave Robin a very subtle smile. The girl definitely knew way more than she had told anyone, and Robin was honestly glad for that.

"What is one thing you love, and one thing you don't like about your boyfriend?" Lisa was next to ask, and her question took Robin a few seconds to think about, and even longer not to cringe over. Somehow, the term 'boyfriend' seemed terribly inappropriate to her ears.

"I love who he is. And I don't like that nobody actually knows who he is. In every sense of the statement." She finally replied, which made the three girls frown, but they didn't get to dwell on it.

"Have you ever committed a crime, and if yes, was it by muggle or wizarding standards of legality?" Jorien asked before anyone else could comment on Robin's previous answer.

"Yes." Robin didn't even need to think about the answer to that one. "And both." Again, jaws dropped and eyes went wide.

"What crimes did you commit?" It was Melissa's turn again, and she went straight on with Jorien's clever diversion. "If it's too many, name a muggle one and a magical one."

"A muggle one would be breaking into a gym on multiple occasions. A magical one would be messing with time."

"Have you ever stripped for anyone?" Of course it was Cas again who had to ask a question that was so vague and intimate it would've made Robin blush if it wasn't for her facades.

"Specify." She returned instead, in an attempt to thereby make things better somehow.

"Have you ever willingly undressed for another person who's not you?"

"Specify."

"Gods, Robin, what's so hard to understand about that?! Have you ever taken off your clothes so that another person could look at your body?"

"Yes. And you probably have as well, in the infirmary, at some point." Robin replied neutrally, and Cas only rolled her eyes but went with the vague answer nonetheless.

"What was your first kiss like?" Lisa was next, and that question wasn't even too bad, in Robin's opinion.

"Nerve-wracking. Intimidating. Unexpected." She couldn't help smiling at the memory at last, facades or not. "But also breathtaking, magical, perfect… everything I'd never dared dream about."

"Awww…" Both Cas and Melissa sighed, while Lisa smiled and Jorien smirked. Somehow it surprised Robin that neither Cas nor Jorien, who both certainly knew at this point who her first kiss had been, seemed to care about that fact in the slightest. Obviously there was still hope for bringing them into the same place at some distant point in the future.

"What's the most awkward situation you've ever had at home? With your family, I mean." Jorien's question was next, and while Robin knew that it was only an innocent attempt at changing the theme of conversation to safer territories again, the topic brought a lump to her throat nonetheless. She hadn't thought about her parents in a while now… but perhaps it was time to prove to herself that she was over it indeed.

"My parents invited strangers to live in my room while kicking me out of the house, and when I didn't leave immediately, their guests called me a useless greedy whore, to which my parents said absolutely nothing. During the last dinner before I left, they said that traveling alone with S...someone would result in people assuming I was dishonored, to which I merely replied that it was bold of them to assume that I had any honour left in the first place. That was rather awkward." She explained with a shrug, and unsurprisingly it was all four girls who stared at her incredulously now. Wasn't that something other families did too? No? Well damn.

"They… they just kicked you out of your home?" Lisa ironically was the first to ask in a quiet voice, and Robin immediately felt terrible for spoiling everyone's fun with her story. She'd just meant to answer honestly… Not such a good idea, as it seemed.

"Yeah, well, no, I mean yes they did, but then we all agreed that it would be best if I left and earned my own money." She explained, as if that would make anything better and not worse. Good job, idiot.

"How awful! How old were you?" Melissa went on, as both Cas and Jorien obviously knew better than to ask at this point.

"Seventeen. It all happened just at the beginning of last summer, actually." Again Robin answered truthfully, but more thought through this time. "It really wasn't as bad as it sounds now, that wasn't the point of the story. I just wanted to say the dinner was rather awkward from that point on."

"Right…" Jorien said slowly, then once more was the first to catch on to the desperately needed change of topic. "Next question! We've got one more minute of Robin's ten, so let's do one more round, yes?"

The other girls nodded, then Melissa once more made the start. "It's odd that nobody's asked you this before, but who is your boyfriend anyway?"

"I'm not going to answer that." Robin replied in a surprising ease, as just another fact that she didn't even have to think about. "If I'm not mistaken, that means I get to ask you guys a question now?"

"Yep."

"Alright…" Robin sighed, and the first idea she had was already a decent one, even if it ran at the risk of confusing the girls. "If you had to describe Professor Morgan with one word, which would it be?"

"Handsome." Melissa was the first to blurt out, cheeks tinting red to a degree that was visible even in the very limited light.

"Charming." Cas added next, without even a hint of such embarrassment.

"Nice." Lisa shrugged. "Not quite as much as some other people, but still… He's one of the nicest professors around the castle, to me at least."

"Enigmatic." Jorien finally concluded the round. "I have absolutely no idea who that man really is. I like him, but his ambiguity is odd sometimes."

All girls nodded in accordance with Jorien's statement, but also the previous three descriptors seemed to fall upon common agreement. Robin was both content and unsettled by this development. They really did like him, but except for the strange ambiguity, Robin's perception of Morgan was nothing like theirs. Interesting, from a somewhat objective kind of viewpoint.

"Great, so now I'm next!" Cas announced, and broke Robin out of her pondering. "What's the most intimate thing you've ever done with someone?"

Robin inwardly rolled her eyes, but kept up her neutrality on the outside no less. She might just give them her newfound truth, even if they wouldn't understand it. "Looking into someone's mind and having them look into mine at the same time. I think it's the most intimate you can get with someone, by allowing them to see absolutely everything of you, see exactly who you are without any facades or defenses. To be one for a while, exactly the way you are. And being loved just the same, if not all the more."

"That sounds amazing." Jorien commented quietly, with a serene smile that was nothing of what Robin had expected.

"That sounds boring as hell!" Cas rolled her eyes, which in return was exactly what Robin had expected. "Don't you have any spicy stories?"

"That's not what you asked for, and it's not your turn to ask anyway." Robin gave Cas a pointed look and a humoured smile. Sometimes the imprecision of Cas' language use was a saving grace. Thank the gods the girl hadn't asked for Robin's most erotic experience, because then Robin would've seriously considered jumping off the astronomy tower before she'd turn into a flustered mess. Not that there would've been much to share in that regard anyway, at least not in a way the girls would understand. As of the current moment, Robin's relationship hadn't been on that kind of… physical level just yet. Not because they didn't want to, gods no, but the time had never been quite right for it. Too many late nights working, too many early mornings and other problems, other people, other concerns. Besides, they weren't the kind of people to rush things, especially not when any form of intimacy was new to either of them in the first place.

"Exactly, it's my turn to ask now." Lisa's words came as the next saving grace to Robin's thoughts. Or… something of the sort, at least. "What's one thing that Cas and Jorien know about you but Melissa and I don't?"

"That I was stabbed last summer and almost died from severe blood loss."

"Wait, really?!"

"Yes." Robin replied with a sigh under her breath, and her two roommates nodded in accordance. This at least was a somewhat easy topic to talk about by now… it simply was a fact that wouldn't harm anyone anymore.

"My turn!" Jorien announced before anyone could make a big deal out of it, and once more Robin was more than glad for the girl's brilliant intuition. "What's one thing you wish will happen in your more distant future?"

That was a nice one, actually, and a small smile graced Robin's lips in return. Perhaps she could end this silly game on good terms with the girls after all. "I wish that some day in the future, when certain things are different, everyone I care about will be able to sit at the same table happily. That also includes you guys, just so you know."

"Aww, that's sweet." Cas smiled happily, and the others seemed equally content with the answer. Thank goodness.

"Now, I answered all of your questions and played along nicely." Robin said, then rose up to her feet even as her muscles protested in stiffness from the cold. Bloody hell, she should've cast a heating charm before coming here… At least, other than her, the girls were all wrapped up in their warmest clothes. "Let's get you back down to the dungeons."

"So, you aren't coming to the dorms with us?" Melissa asked, while the five of them made their way down the staircase at last.

"No. I still have something very important to see to, and that really can't wait any longer." Robin sighed as she locked the door to the tower back up behind them, then ushered the girls on into the direction of the dungeons. From now on it wasn't unlikely that Morgan might return, and she wanted to be safe in Snape's quarters before that happened.

They made their way down the stairs and through the corridors the same way they always did, with Cas entertaining the entire group and Robin following silently behind them. To her luck, Robin remembered to say goodnight earlier than she had to, to conceal just where she was heading, but she still let the girls walk a good bit ahead before she herself went on to take a detour to her own destination. Better safe than sorry, after all. Mere minutes later nonetheless, she finally arrived in front of the door to her safest haven, and let herself in like she did so often. What first greeted her on the inside after locking back up behind herself was a welcoming wave of the fire's warmth and golden glow, followed immediately by the sight of papers strewn everywhere across the floor. Most surprising however was the fact that Snape was sitting right among them, knees bent and arms propped up on them while he stared off into the flames with an empty expression. Robin froze in her spot immediately, and her eyes remained fixed on him while everything within her squeezed together with a start.

"I'm going to die, am I not?"

______________________________

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pinky-the-elephant-room · 4 years

Text

Auctum

AN: I swear my blog isn’t an All Might blog, I just love him a lot ok?

Warning: Explicit smut between All Might and Fem reader. Oral sex. Mutual pining and jealousy.

Prompt: Pro hero are auctioned off to lucky bidders for a date.

☆☆☆☆------------

Y/N nervously chewed and picked at the skin on her lips. She watched as the excited crescendo of crowd noises riveted in the festive atmosphere. Were they really about to do this? She spared a hesitant glance at the muscular hero besides her. All Might looked majestic, cool, and collected, everything that the symbol of peace represented. But Y/N knew better. She worked with him for decades, she could spot the beads of sweats and the way his fingers shook from sheer nerves.

“We can do this. This is for a good cause. Cheer up, All Might!” she weakly croaked. Well, that was just pathetic. All Might seemed to visibly shrink into himself. “Besides, this is for the underprivileged kids! They need your help.” Now that did the job because All Might stood up taller and clenched his fist.

“You’re right just like any villain. I can defeat any obstacles thrown my way.” he wholeheartedly cheered. Suddenly high-pitched screams erupted in the auditorium as swarming women noticed All Might standing there. “Except for maybe this.” He gulped.

Y/N felt bad, she really did. When the local youth charities asked for All Might’s participation, she thought that they would ask All Might to come in, sign a few autographs, and pose a few times as he donated a generous amount of yen. But NO.That wasn’t what they had in mind. What they had in mind was to auction All Might out for a date. So, here he was donating time to become an eligible bachelor and accompany a lovely lady on a date.

Y/N couldn’t help but joke. “Hey, maybe now you will have the time to finally date just like everyone else.”

However, it completely backfired on her as Y/N felt the fit of jealousy bubble in her. She waited years for All Might to notice her, year after year, day by day until all the hope had seeped out and left nothing but bitterness. Still her stubbornness couldn’t leave the one person who needed her support more than ever. Especially after her brother separated himself from All Might after delivering the grim foresight of his death. Yes, she was Sir Nighteye’s sister. Only a year younger with a quirk of psychometry, the ability to know the past and present of an individual by touch. Truly they were the two prodigy sidekicks that helped All Might create the dynasty and legacy he had today. Her nii-san would support All Might with strategies on the battlefield, while she did the heavy duty of managing Might tower and creating a trustworthy support system for All Might. Her duties even now were more managerial than battlefield related.

Even as her relationship with her nii-san deteriorated due to Y/N refusing to come work for him, she still continued to do her best in supporting All Might. All the while hoping and praying that the flame for All Might would finally breathe its’ last breath.

Y/N clenched her fist and forced herself to chuckle at her joke.

“Maybe I’ll participate too just so I can get the day for you to finish your paperwork.”

All Might sheepishly agreed and rubbed his neck. “I’ll do anything to escape this.”

An auction manager approached the two and directed All Might towards the auditorium as it was about to begin. Y/N watched as All Might walked away and made her way to the seating area like all other spectators. She hesitated when a volunteer handed her a number paddle but took it and sat near the corner of the stage. Y/N watched as dozens of pro heroes were auctioned away at hefty donations. Hell, even a wild wild pussycat member participated. Finally, the main event was revealed as everyone erupted into pandemonium when All Might stepped onto center stage in his hero garb. The auctioneer banged their gavel and requested everyone to settle down. Y/N watched in stupefied confusion as the fast rate of donations built from 100,000 yen to 340,000 yen. She even tried to raise her paddle a few times to be drowned out by the massive amount of people outbidding her.

“The bid to beat now is 450,000 yen. Anyone else? Going once- “the auctioneer called out before Y/N interrupted.

“500,000 yen!” Y/N yelled out as she stood up.

All Might swiveled his head towards the familiar voice and was stunned to see Y/N in her dignified pencil skirt and suit waving around her paddle.

Y/N felt her heart thud when she made eye contact with All Might, seeing the shock in his face she gave him a small smile. It took a minute, but he returned it before facing back to the audience.

However, just as she made the bid, she lost it quickly as others steadily started outbidding her. Y/N could only watch in a panic as the money started climbing higher and higher more than whatever was lying around in her bank account.

She watched in devastation as the final bid that won was “106,080,000.00 yen” from a pudgy older housewife who excitedly jumped up and down in celebration of her win. The auctioneer thanked everyone for their generous donations and stated the Pro heroes would shortly make their way to their intended dates.

Y/N got up from her seat and returned her paddle to go find All Might before he went on his date. He stood around in the back of the auditorium, talking to fellow pro heroes.

She apologized for the interruption with a bow and said, “sorry All Might I couldn’t rescue you but, in my defense, you don’t pay me enough.”

All Might waved his hands around frantically. “It’s fine I’m just happy that you even bothered to help. It probably won’t be that bad. She seems like a nice enough lady. Besides I heard she’s already married so she’s just a fan who wanted the opportunity to meet me.”

Y/N’s jealousy was replaced with amusement as she watched the mentioned boisterous older lady interrupt their conversation and whisk All Might away for their date.

“Right now?” All Might said as his gigantic self was dragged away by a woman half his size.

“No time like the present, All Might-sama.” the lady giggled.

She watched All Might be dragged out until she could no longer see them. Y/N sighed and checked the time. It was barely 6 PM, plenty of time for her to head back to Might tower and finish up any lingering work so she wouldn’t have to work during the weekends. Nobody spared her a glance as she left the auction and hailed a taxi back to Might tower.

Y/N stretched as her sore neck got the respite, she needed from hours of bending and pouring over mundane paperwork. She checked the time on her smartphone, and it displayed 11 PM in neon lights. She cracked her knuckles, getting immense satisfaction from the loud cracks. Just as she was about to get up and photocopy a case file, a knock on her office door interrupted.

“Come in!” she called out.

In came the emaciated form of All Might in a baggy shirt and jeans.

Y/N just stared at him in surprise not expecting him to visit Might Tower at this time especially after the no doubt exhausting date.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming here.” Toshinori gave a weak chuckle and a small bow of his head.

“Forgive me. I had to leave my date because I was running out of time. I left saying that I had a heroic emergency, but I can’t do any hero work in this form so I thought I would finally help you catch up on that paperwork.”

Y/N shook her head. “Any company helping with paperwork is welcome in my office. No need to apologize.”

She looked him over, examining him for exhaustion. “But are you sure you should be here? Maybe you should get some rest.”

“Iie, I’m fine just mentally exhausted from listening about different luxury brands of shoes.”

Y/N giggled, the mental image of All Might carrying shopping bags while the older woman shopped was mind boggling.

Y/N brought out the immediate files she needed his signature on and offered him a chair at her desk. The two of them continued their work in comfortable silence, talking occasionally about routine topics.

“Y/N, can I ask you a question?” Y/N hummed an affirmative under her breathe as she skimmed through files.

“W-why.. Why didn’t you leave with Sir Nighteye when you had the chance all those years ago?”

Y/N stunned out of her mind as she wasn’t expecting that question, put her file down and faced Toshinori.

Looking him straight in his cerulean, blue eyes she said, “because you were at the brink of death with no hope. I couldn’t leave you when you clearly needed support. Besides the argument was between you and nii-san, it didn’t involve me, so I wasn’t going to leave you behind.”

“Thank you for your support. These past years with my injury have taken a toll, but I’ve only made it this far because of your help. I really appreciate it Y/N-chan.”

Toshinori opened his mouth to say something more but hesitated and then continued to fuss with the paperwork in front of him. Y/N looked at him in confusion and waited for him to say more, but he continued to sign the various files in front of him.

“It’s not a problem. It’s my job as a sidekick.”

She shrugged, letting it go and figured if he had more to say then he would do so on his own time. The two of them tag teamed for a while, shifting around various paperwork getting more done in 2 hours than she had in weeks. Finally seeing the clock hit 1 AM, she decided to have mercy on All Might.

“I think this is a good dent on the pile of paperwork Might tower has. I’ll have to kidnap you one of these days and make you do this again,” Y/N said as she packed away the files in the cabinet. Just as she was getting ready to close for the night, Toshinori asked, “why did you really bid for me today?”

Y/N was lost for words, not expecting another question to leave her speechless. “O-oh, you know for fun? It’s not like I was expecting an actual date out of it.”

Toshinori sent her a small smile that gave her heart palpitations. “I wouldn’t have minded going on a date with you.”

Y/N stepped back hesitatingly. “Don’t say that to me. Don’t give me hope.”

“Hope for what?” He stepped closer towards her.

“I’ve wanted for so long and you’ve never…” Y/N couldn’t finish that sentence as she looked everywhere but at Toshinori.

“I have to go. I have an early morning tomorrow…. And I have to go- “she stepped around him in a hurry to be anywhere in this room, to be talking to anyone about anything except for this. Just as she was about to pass, an arm grabbed her and pulled Y/N back.

She almost stopped breathing due to the close proximity of her and Toshinori’s face. She could see the gauntness of his gentle face and the brilliant shine of his blue eyes. He brought a hand to softly brush against her cheek before pulling her in. Her breath hitched as finally their lips connected. They stood there just lip locking; eyes open not knowing what to do. Y/N finally getting over her shock, grabbed Toshinori by his shoulders and pulled him in closer. She closed her eyes as she slowly responded and savored the taste of him. Getting the reaction he sought, Toshinori grabbed her hips and tilted his head sideways to get the perfect angle. She granted him entry to her mouth and groaned in appreciation as he took his time to explore every inch. The two kissed for what seemed like hours, Y/N slowly moving backwards as she responded to his dance of licks and swirls with her tongue.

She eventually collided with the desk as Toshinori trapped her against it.

“All this time I thought there couldn’t be anything. But if I don’t try, then it’ll be a missed opportunity I regret for the rest of my life,” he said as he kissed her again.

Caging her body with his thin but tall frame, he grabbed her neck as he continued to plunge into her mouth and devouring her harder and faster. A need for oxygen left her lightheaded and she pulled away, that didn’t deter him from moving to her neck and leaving a trail of hot kisses. Finding a spot, he liked, he bit it gently before sucking deeply and leaving a mark on her body. Y/N panting harshly, couldn’t keep from squirming in place as the ministrations sent tingles straight down to her pussy. She could feel the wetness in between her thighs that was building up, and a particular harsh bite to her neck caused her walls to twitch. Y/N couldn’t stand it anymore, so she grabbed his hands and placed it on her center. She watched as his eyes widened knowing that he could feel the effect he had on her. Grabbing her thighs and hips he made her sit back on the table. Slowly, he rolled up her gray pencil skirt until he flipped it over on her stomach. Toshinori always wondered what she had under that skirt and now he was going to find out. She had on a plain, cream panty that he quickly discarded on the floor. He slowly circled her lips, feeling the moisture gush out of her. He groaned feeling her so turned on by him in a matter of minutes was doing wonders for his insecurities. Toshinori slowly inserted his pointer finger, letting her get used to its size before giving short thrusts. He added a second finger that he thrusted in tandem together. Y/N could barely keep herself together as she couldn’t believe what they were doing on her desk. Toshinori removed his fingers and tasted the fluids covering his fingers. The salty, tangy taste instead changed his mind to getting his appetite sated by her only.

Maneuvering her by grabbing her hips to his eye level, he laid his tongue flat as he caressed her pussy with it. Letting out a moan and feeling his eyes roll back, he held her tight as he made a meal out of her. Y/N underneath thrashed helplessly as she felt his warm tongue imitate what his dick could do. Sucking lightly at her clit, he inserted his finger back in as he set a languid pace. Y/N decided that she needed a just a bit more to reach her pleasure, hurriedly unbuttoning her blouse so that she could push her bra cups down. Feeling her vaginal walls constrict around his finger, she circled her nipples till they stood at attention before she rolled them in her hands. Toshinori licking up the last of moisture near her opening, lightly bit her clit which overwhelmed her as Y/N arched off the table. He continued to thrust helping her prolong her pleasure, he waited till she calmed before removing his fingers and holding her down tightly. Y/N looked at him in confusion in the haze of her pleasure as to why he was holding her down when she came already. She finally realized why when he dove his face back into her center and resumed eating her newly released fluids like a starving man. Y/N twitched uncontrollably as her vagina reacted to the extra stimulus, she tried to push him off, but he held her steady.

“Oh god, Toshi please stop. I’m begging,” she sobbed as her eyes watered from the intense pleasure. Nothing she did deterred him; her second orgasm engulfed the remnants of her first one as she spiraled out of control.

Y/N started seeing visions of a young Toshinori being introduced to an even younger Y/N. She saw him being enamored by her. She saw him watch her as she grew up, year after year, pining for a girl who was his sidekick’s sister. She saw how he had convinced himself to let her go to keep her safe, even more determined after his injury. But the older he got, the less convinced he was of his convictions. Y/N couldn’t help the tears as they came pouring down her face. She sobbed out the relief, knowing that he really did love her just like she did him.

Toshinori finished up, giving her final kitten licks before letting go of her hips. He straightened up to find Y/N just sobbing her heart out. Giving her kisses on her head, he tried to frantically calm her down.

“I’m sorry my quirk it activated while I was..-“

Toshinori shushed her with a quick kiss to her lips.

He asked as he interlocked their fingers together and pressed a kissed to it. “It’s ok what did you find out?”

“That we were both idiots yearning for each other,” she said as she hiccupped while trying to calm down.

“I guess I have a lot to make up for, don’t I?”

Y/N chuckled and agreed.

“Yes, but do you think you can start at my apartment? This desk isn’t that comfortable.”

Toshinori hopped off of her and they straightened their disheveled selves to look presentable before continuing their enjoyable night till the break of dawn in the comfort of Y/N’s bed.

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capricornus-rex · 3 years

Text

A Shadow of What You Used to Be (1)

Chapter 1: A Child Can Dream | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker

Requested by Anon

Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.

Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling

A/N: I AM SO HAPPY TO BE BACK! Our house is clean, power and wifi is back on, and we’re slowly getting back on our feet now! ❤ It was a tough 2 weeks, but we survived. My neighborhood is getting back on its own feet as well. We just need more time in flushing out whatever trace of the flood remains. Thank you so much to @glxy-otter and @someoneovertherainboww for sending me lots of love & support! It really made me smile 💜🥺

Also in AO3

Previous: Prelude | Next: Part 2 | Masterlist

2 of ?

The garage was filled with the same perpetual noise. For a seven-year-old, this is no suitable place for a child—but this is the normal she grew up in.

“Hurry up with that chassis!” barked a male Twi’lek with orange skin in Huttese.

The girl answered, in the same dialect, “Can’t you see that this thing is twice my size, Pelug!?”

“You’re lucky you’re faster than those pit droids, otherwise, I would’ve put you in concessionaire duty!”

A pair of hazel eyes shot a piercing look at the humanoid, a scowl forming in her eyebrows.

The orange Twi’lek’s pair of lekku wagged along with his finger pointed at the girl, his threat didn’t scare her as much as he wanted to—though it’s common knowledge that concessionaire duty was the worst, one is essentially demoted if put there. But she thinks she’s proved herself highly unlikely of being in that position.

Not receiving help—not expecting to either—she hauled up the chassis on a crate while shooing the doddering pit droids. When the path was clear, the hatch had already been opened—thanks to those little ones—to screw in the part before the big race. The speakers crackled and echoed across the entire garage, reminding us that the participants have less than thirty minutes before the racers are required to bring their rides on the starting block.

“Irele,” Pelug called in Basic, but immediately went back to speaking Huttese. “You got tiny hands, hold this open for me while I close off the hydraulic seals.”

Irele obeyed. She had a few seconds of relaxing her fingers one seal after the other.

After the tech work, their contender—a male Togruta named Gelesh with uneven lekku—hopped onto his podracer. A few switches and clicks, the Brazen Bullet roared to life—lights flickered across the entire dashboard, the engines belched, and the turbines thrummed.

“Hey, if Sebulba fights dirty—”

“I’ll fight filthier!” he cuts Irele off laughing, but she let it pass. The exchange was somewhat tradition for both of them.

The speakers in the garage crackled again, startling many who are inside, and the croaky announcer prompted the racers to prepare at the starting block; in less than a second, a second translates everything to Huttese. The announcer was the two-headed sentient of species she still doesn’t know the name of.

Gelesh’s entourage—including Irele—strolled out of the garage and made for the exit. The Tatooine sunlight abruptly blazed its rays over their heads, luckily, they were wearing headgear. Gelesh was confident although the nervousness was somehow getting to him, the girl can sort of sense it—along with a few more emotions that she didn’t want to point out to make it worse for him.

“Hey, Gel?”

“Yeah, Irele?”

“Relax.”

That took a load off of his chest, his lips stretched to a friendly grin, he pulled himself together first and then his goggles next. To each racer, they followed the instructions as the two-headed sentient said so. All the technicians began scrambling back to their pit stop when the mufflers have fired up. Little Irele went further into their pit stop, crawling through spaces that only she can enter; she then scaled a spire with makeshift handholds she herself installed until she could reach a ledge on the spire that apparently supported one of the spectator boxes.

The seven-year-old was small enough to seat herself on such a narrow edge; from there, she has as good as a view of the spectators in the towers and stands. If the crowd was already rowdy before the racers lined up on the block, the noise got wilder and louder that perhaps one can hear it all the way to Mos Pelgo. Each podracer had their characteristic noise for each action: ignition, acceleration, compressor activation, and what have you—Irele can identify the Brazen Bullet and its every sound with her eyes closed.

“Alright, racers, rev up those engines because we start in five…”

A collective of podracers engine noises rung and rumbled the circuit. Three seconds in, their ignition sent dust clouds flying over the heads of the poor people in the bottom row of the stands. The people in the bleachers joined the countdown, and so did Irele as she kept her eye on the single podracer whose body plates are forged with bronzium.

“ONE!!”

One by one, the vehicles zipped past—their noises abrupt like the firing of a blaster, the mufflers thunderous as they pulled the accelerators—some of the audience members had the hems of their clothes flying to the direction of the podracers, nonetheless arousing their secondhand adrenaline.

Irele’s little heart went with Brazen Bullet speeding right in the lead, the bronzium finish of the vehicle were fleeting specks of light over her glossy, hazel eyes. She scaled the spire some more until she could sneak a peek on one of the watchers’ tablets to see who’s in the lead and dead last. For everytime Gelesh completed the lap, Irele could almost feel her heels floating, as if she was the one driving the pod and feeling the exact velocity, the thrill, the sheer focus—driving one was a dream, though her mother forbade her, begged her even not to try it, but said so with a softness that compels Irele to obey, despite her desires.

Everyone had their eyes on the rising star, Gelesh, who was also leaving Sebulba in the dust. Hot on his heels, the Dug desperately cranked every possible lever his hind legs could grab on—in the hopes of catching up to the Togruta. The Dug, unwilling to accept defeat after the destruction of his streak by the victory of that one human boy years ago.

That boy was Anakin Skywalker.

Irele had heard stories of him: how he defeated the Dug despite all odds, and snagged the top place in the race, and how he was an underdog in everyone’s eyes. She wondered if they might have been friends somehow, given their mutual penchant for podracing albeit preferring different aspects.

“This is it, people! This is the last lap of the circuit—Gelesh Odibra and Sebulba are practically neck-and-neck! Who will cross the finish line first!? They’re all so close now!! It’s Gelesh!! No, it’s Sebulba!!”

The sentient argues with its Huttese-speaking head, looping what the Basic-speaking head kept saying in a continuous effort in riling up the crowd. Irele was literally on the edge of the tier when the Brazen Bullet and Sebulba’s podracer were within view. A twin-trail of sand, clouding the tail-ends of the podracers approach the starting line—with the third light blinking green, eager for the victor to zoom through it.

It was all such a blur. The crowd cheered, nonetheless, believing that their eyes didn’t deceive them and that they saw their contender stay ahead of the other by a hair. Not long after, a scuffle was developing when two differing spectators argued on whose champion went through the finish line first. Irele spotted it across from where she sat, but she didn’t watch the scuffle for long; she turned her attention to the announcer’s tower.

“Wow, did you see how close that was! Everything was such a blur I’m not even sure if I saw it right!”

The second head agreed, speaking in Huttese, in the same enthusiasm as the Basic-speaking one.

To finally calm the crowd, and settle it once and for all, the sentient clicks a pattern of buttons on their control panel to project a snapshot of the two racers at the finish line—determining who was closest to the line. Showing images from all angles, it’s clear that the Brazen Bullet’s nose was basically under the sensors of the light—thus triggering all three lights to indicate that a racer has completed the circuit.

“I don’t believe it! This is Gelesh’s third win in the streak—cementing his record just right above Sebulba’s!”

By the hum of a gong echoing across the circuit, a large portion of the crowd jumped and roared in a united cheer—ribbons and petals of sorts flew in congratulation, showering the youthful Togruta in his victory. He hopped out of his podracer, his entourage comes sprinting out of their pit stop with Irele at the tail just getting down from her perch.

“GELESH, YOU DID IT!” squealed the girl, sprinting and shouldering her way to his view.

A host hands over a trophy to Gelesh who then let Irele—perched on his broad shoulder—hold the other side of the trophy. People have gotten out of their seats to surround the defending champion. They chanted his name, the rest of the spectators showered him with flowers, petals, and ribbons.

Every victory was wonderful for Irele. Perhaps, it equaled to the exact same thrill as driving her own podrace. This went on for two more years, and in those next years, they enjoyed the sport—win or lose.

–

24 BBY

It seemed that the garage manager was feeling gracious today. The Rodian boss let Irele go home earlier than her normal shift, in which the girl celebrated with a grin whose ends pierced her plump cheeks, a squeaking cheer as she scrambles to put away her things, and a sprint that sent the dust floating behind her heels.

Irele didn’t head home right away, she went the other direction—towards the junkshop where her mother worked, employed by the blue, pungent Toydarian, Watto. The chimes rang as she burst through the door, startling the creature—who hoped it was a customer, but much to his chagrin, it was only the girl, and so he returns to his chair with a groan.

“Where’s Mom?”

“Over there,” Watto lazily pointed and croaked with his native accent running thick in his voice.

“Mommy?”

Shmi paused at the workbench to meet her daughter, “Irele? You’re out early.”

Irele threw herself into Shmi’s arms, embracing her as tight as her scrawny arms can, “Yeah, Selek let me out early today. Good thing he did!”

Her mother simply smiled, perhaps too overwhelmed by her daughter’s energy.

“You didn’t forget, did you?”

That somehow jolted Shmi enough for her realize that she had caught herself spacing out. She shook her head and mouthed the word “no,” she saw the concerned expression in Irele’s face and took her daughter by the shoulders.

“No, darling, I didn’t forget,” she pursed a sweet smile and tapped the tip of Irele’s nose with her forefinger. “How could I forget my promise to you?”

Irele’s eyes lit up, the sihght of it delighted her mother. Shmi then finished up whatever work she’s been busying herself with before getting off of work. Mother and child strolled out of the junkshop, Irele trottd off happily while keeping her hand clasped in Shmi’s—who was walking in her normal pace, with a few occasional tugs from the child because of her prancing.

By the time they got home, Irele impatiently put her things away in her room, got washed, and eagerly waited for Shmi to join her in the kitchen. The promise was that they were going to cook something together—a house favorite of Irele: Shmi’s own, delicious recipe. They had saved enough from their wages separately, and in total, they had enough to buy ingredient for a hearty, full supper consisting of meat, a medley of mushrooms and vegetables, and fruits and pallies for dessert.

They could only do this once for their individual pay was rather low.

All of this is a celebration of Irele turning eight.

A simple celebration with fulfilling food on the table, with no one else but her mother and herself, in the coziness of their cottage—to Irele, it was wonderful. And perfect.

It was everything she could ever ask for.

–

Months after their promised celebration, Irele had been seeing a man with sandy brown hair and a scraggly stubble. Maybe once or twice, she saw him clean-shaven. She always saw him frequenting Watto’s shop, either to buy or play Sabacc—but oftentimes, the latter in which Watto had a questionable win record. One should not be surprised if the blue Toydarian won through his swindler’s methods.

This man was Cliegg Lars.

Apparently, Shmi had caught the eye of Cliegg, as he frequented the junkshop in search of parts mostly for speeders and other machines he uses. Despite being a child, Lars’s feelings did not escape the insightful Irele; in her opinion, he’d been coming over to the shop a little too often for someone who kept fixing speeders. Although, she cannot be certain if his motives are true; it’s still a lead nonetheless. Even she had drawn attention to herself from the man, shying away from his gruff yet friendly hello’s, and then curiously watching him deal with Watto whilst hiding behind walls.

It wasn’t long until Cliegg began to fall for Shmi, rooting from their day-to-day interactions with one another whenever he would stop by. He pretended that he doesn’t feel Irele tailing them, but he didn’t let that bother him—she’s a child after all, he thought.

Shmi presently being a mother with a daughter in tow didn’t trouble Cliegg. A man of ethics—a rare trait in this lawless ball of sand—he could not imagine buying off Shmi from Watto, but then leaving the child to the Toydarian. Fortunately for Lars, it was evident that Watto’s gambling—with a not-so-impressive track record to boot—had gradually collapsed his business. Little by little, Watto’s wares had either been disposed of or been sold to the lowest possible price in the hopes of keeping the business up. When there was nothing else to profit from, Watto would be forced to sell his remaining property—the mother and child slaves. Cliegg took it from there.

From a certain point of view, his proposition of buying Shmi and Irele intrigued the Toydarian.

“How much you gunna pay fo meh two slaves, eh?” rasped Watto, irreparably pronouncing “slaves” as slehvz in his thick, native Toydarian accent.

“I can pay you twenty thousand each,” Cliegg bobbed his head for the dramatics, pretending to be pensive. “I’ll pawn off my X-class landspeeder to pay them.”

A single holodisk produced a projection of the item in question. The speeder—brand new and in its prime, only seven months old—was an interesting wager in and of itself. The rusty-reddish paint job would stand out in the desert, whether up close or in the horizon, sunlight would bounce off on the sheen of the thrusters’ metallic sections. Truly a shiny new toy.

Cliegg could have sworn he heard the clinking of credits when Watto’s eyes lit up with greedy intrigue.

Good, that’s gotten his attention. Thought the man.

Watto hovered himself closer to the projection, his flimsy wings struggled to carry his weight as they flapped erratically, and rubbed his fleshy chin at the same time. To the flying sentient, it wasn’t a bad deal, at least for Lars’s expense in his mind—the ratio of the trade somewhat balances out: Lars wants two things from him, thus he wagers something in the same worth.

“You must think me a fool, Watto,” Cliegg noted the perhaps long silence of Watto examining the images. “To pay you the price of a single landspeeder for two slaves.”

The Toydarian chuckled, then gestured defensively, “No, no. I don’t that, Lars, meh friend. In fact, this is quite an int’resting investment.” His emphasis on the word “investment” made him enunciate the S into a harsh, buzzing Z.

Perhaps, it is in the nature of every Toydarian to call anything an investment—even a gamble on a card game. There aren’t many of Watto’s kind here in Tatooine, but that is the only impression Cliegg can pick up from Watto for his opinion on the species. Not having any of the suspense, the man tried to broke the deal until they can shake on it. Watto came so far as making an event out of it, but Lars insisted to refrain from the grandeur, to which his beneficiary gave in.

They finally shook on it. The two males were clueless that Irele had been eavesdropping on their exchange. It was a bad habit that Shmi had gently reprimanded her of, but just this once, she had never been invested in someone else’s conversation—only because the subject was their freedom at stake, and it was this stranger who dared to go through this length of settling an agreement with their current slaver. Irele’s mind was in a whirl—would he be a kinder slaver than Watto? More generous or more cruel? With their conversation going on what felt like hours, she had resorted to sitting on the floor, her back against the wall as she listened in on their voices.

The girl heard the door chimes followed by the silence, then she scrambled to her feet when she heard the flapping of Watto’s wings grow louder and disappeared as quietly as she could.

Two days later after that agreement had been set in stone, today’s the fateful day: Shmi finds out only now that she and Irele had been sold to Cliegg Lars. When Watto announced that he’s sold them together to this man, understandably, the woman was taken aback from her lack of prior knowledge, and she had every right to be surprised. Her daughter, on the other hand, feigned it—her false silence fit in with the mood of the room.

Shmi and Irele Skywalker watched the pouch of credits transfer from Cliegg’s hand to Watto’s, signifying that they now belong to Cliegg Lars.

“Take them,” Watto says, although somberly. He hovers in place as he watches Shmi and Irele join Cliegg out of the shop.

“I wish you good luck on your business, Watto,” Lars bade, however, it felt backhanded.

At the entrance of the junkshop awaited a pair of eopies—tall, quadrupedal animals that served as mounts for people and carriers of cargo—handled by a Jawa that Cliegg hired for a few hours.

“I’m sorry if I couldn’t give you two a more comfortable ride to your new home,” there was a sincerity in Lars’s voice, warm and genuine, something that Shmi nor Irele had not heard for a long time.

“It’s fine,” Shmi stuttered while trying to be polite. “I’m more used with the mount than speeders.”

“Ah, well, where you’re living—you’ll get used to it, but I’ll let you do it in your own pace.”

With a simple waving gesture from Cliegg, the Jawa hauled the animal pair then coaxed both to go down on their knees—level enough so the humans can hop on their backs. Each eopie grunted when they felt more weight on themselves; Shmi and Irele shared one saddle, Lars took the lead from town to their new home.

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calenheniel · 4 years

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Queen of the Ashes, a frozen fanfic | Part VII

Frozen | Alternate Universe | Hans x Elsa | Romance, Drama | T+

They meet as children, each with a secret. Plagued by tragedy, their paths cross again many years later, and their secrets are unraveled.

Follow updates: #QueenoftheAshesFrozen

Read below, or find links to AO3/FF.Net/Wattpad on my Tumblr.

Author’s Note: I see recovery from any kind of trauma as one step forward, two steps back - and I envision Elsa's recovery in the same sense. I'm not making her regress or retreat purely for plot reasons, or to throw up false obstacles for drama. It's very much, in my mind, a natural, human reaction to resist change, especially when it comes all of a sudden.

I have many, many other thoughts and ramblings I would love to share with you all about the writing process for this fic, but I'm saving it for the end. I want you all to form your own impressions and ideas of what's happening before I tell you mine.

»»————-　❈　————-««

VII.

The queen was swept up in a procession of meetings with various delegations for the rest of the evening into the following morning, with hardly a second to breathe between bows and curtsies to people she hoped she would never see again.

As her steward announced each successive appointment to her, she avoided making eye contact with him, keeping her expression cool and indecipherable.

By the time she was able to slot in a brief return to her room to regroup, he informed her that she was expected in the courtyard for an afternoon of lawn games with her guests. She met the news with a deep and unbroken sigh, half-tempted to call off the rest of the week’s events and remain secluded in her room, undisturbed. But in the warmth of the sunbeams as they washed over her bedsheets, recalling her conversation with the prince from the day before, the queen yielded to her obligations.

She was welcomed with polite bows and smiles when she arrived outside, and she returned the gestures with her usual vague pleasantries, observing her surroundings. Large spaces had been demarcated in the grass for games of bocce and kubb, with some others she did not recognize introduced by the foreign visitors.

“Your Majesty,” a man in fine dress bowed before her, gesturing to one such game, “would you do us the honor of playing a round of croquet?”

She followed the direction of his arm to where several noblemen and women were bent over with wooden mallets, trying to strike colorful balls through arched posts, and suppressed an eyeroll.

“Perhaps later,” she answered with a forced smile.

Others soon followed his example – from the Netherlands, Germany, Portugal, Spain, and Weselton (the last of which she had never even heard of until that week, when its Duke had proposed a trade agreement so outrageously unfavorable to her country that the man had almost been laughed out of a meeting with her council) – but she rebuffed each in turn, her eyes seeking out the prince.

She found him standing alone, a few feet from where the princess played horseshoes with the French ambassador and his wife, the game surrounded by a circle of onlookers. They applauded and cheered as she hooked one shoe after the other onto the stake.

“It’s all in the hand-eye coordination,” the younger woman remarked as they released a collective “ooh” at her success in the latest match, and she curtsied to her opponents with a grin.

Seeing her older sister approaching them, she waved at her. “Elsa! Will you play a round?”

The queen’s smile wavered for a moment. “I’ll sit this one out, Anna,” she said, “since it looks like many of our guests would like a go at playing against you.”

The crowd laughed at her comment, but the princess frowned. The queen drew closer to her, murmuring: “I have to speak with Hans. I hope you don’t mind.”

The princess’s frown converted into a wide, bright smile. “Of course not,” she whispered, though her pitch was higher from excitement. She winked. “Go get ‘im, sis.”

The queen refrained from rolling her eyes as she stepped away from the participants, raising her voice so that everyone could hear her again. “I’ll be rooting for you, and praying that the rest of you don’t get defeated too badly.”

The ambassador and his wife chuckled along with the other competitors, watching as the queen left the game area. The princess coughed to refocus their attention, and announced with a grin:

“All right, so who’s the next victim?”

This challenge drew their interest away from the queen, who slipped out to the back until she was standing next to the prince. Their proximity did not go entirely unnoticed, as she noted a haughty scoff from the neglected Duke of Weselton in her direction, but her thoughts did not linger on it.

The prince smirked. “What did you say to Anna?”

“Nothing that should concern you,” she replied, though without any particular rancor. She kept her eyes focused on the game, but could not make out much between the huddled bodies of the spectators. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to know that I should never quarrel with your sister,” he quipped as the princess scored another perfect ringer. “She has the aim of a hungry hawk.”

“The squawk of one as well,” the queen observed as her sister shrieked with glee at her victory.

The prince stifled a laugh. “You surprise me, Elsa,” he said, smiling at her sharp glance. “Not because you’re capable of making a joke, obviously. Rather…” He paused, looking down at her, and then back at the game. “You’re standing quite close to me, right now.”

She reddened. “And? What of it?”

“I just thought… never mind. It doesn’t matter.” He glanced at her hands. “Are those gloves new? I don’t remember you wearing them before.”

Her blush spread until it touched every corner of her face, her hands knitting together in front of her. “I was busy, and forgot to have mine washed.” She looked down at them, her nose wrinkling at the pure white fabric. “These were my mother’s.”

His brow softened at the comment. “I used to have a pair like that. They’re well-crafted.”

“Right. Back when you used to wear gloves,” she remarked.

A strange smile flitted across his lips. “Yes, back when I used to do that.”

She shot him a cautious, but curious, look. “You’ve never told me why you stopped wearing them.”

He shrugged. “I only wore them before because my father told me I had to. But once he died, I didn’t see the point in it anymore.” He simpered at her. “It seems to bother you that my hands are bare.”

Her nose scrunched. “I’m just not used to it, that’s all. And besides—you used to be very attached to yours. I wouldn’t have guessed that you were wearing them just because someone told you to.”

His smile slipped. “I learned the hard way what would happen if I didn’t behave, from an early age.”

She stared at him for a while, her hands glued together with discomfort at the plain and cold answer. “I see,” she said, and fell back into silence, sensing the sensitivity of the subject.

Don’t feel.

Her stomach constricted at the thought, and she suddenly turned to him.

“Walk me out of here.”

The prince blinked, but bowed his head in acquiescence. “Where to, my Queen?”

She frowned at the intimate form of address. “There’s an archway leading out of here onto another, smaller courtyard in the northeast corner,” she replied, nodding in that direction.

His eyes widened. “Are you sure? The path there goes right through the center of the games, and everyone will—”

“Yes,” she interrupted. “I won’t ask again, Hans. Now offer me your arm.”

After a moment of hesitation, he did as commanded, and she looped her hand through until it rested atop his forearm. He led her away from the games area with calm, confident strides, the crowds of spectators parting for them in waves as they passed.

The queen ignored each new look of astonishment and gasp—including the grave expression of concern from her steward. She held her chin high and kept her expression indifferent as they finally reached the archway, though she could not keep her hand from gripping his arm until her fingertips turned white.

Once they had passed through it and were protected by the surrounding stone walls, she exhaled through her nose, her features relaxing. The inner courtyard was quieter and grayer than the main quad, the only hint of color coming from the trees planted on either side of stone benches and the blue, cloudless skies above them.

“Elsa,” the prince said and glanced at her hand, still clutching his arm.

She removed it with flushed cheeks, turning her back to him as she made her way towards one of the benches.

He joined her after a moment, looking at the entryway to check for prying eyes. Finding none, he turned his gaze to her, somewhat uneasy.

“What’s wrong?”

She sighed, closing her eyes, and then leaned back until it rested gently against the stone wall behind her. “I’m tired of being told what I can and can’t do. I didn’t want to think about it, for once.”

“Did something happen?”

Her eyes reopened to shoot a glare at him. “You ask as if you don’t know.”

He leaned back, copying her. “Are you saying this is my doing?”

“No—and yes,” she replied, crossing her arms. Her forehead wrinkled at seeing the white gloves upon her biceps. “I suppose your impertinence inspired something in me.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, earning another glare from her, and his eyes darkened. “I’m happy to be of some use to you.”

Her blush deepened. “It’s an inconvenience,” she snapped. “I can’t be like this. Not in my position.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am queen, now, and I can’t just do whatever I want, whenever I want, like Anna. I can’t storm out of official dinners, or refuse meetings with ambassadors, or—”

“Walk away from games held in your honor, and be seen alone with dishonorable gentlemen?”

She grew quiet at his interjection, and his look became more serious. “I’m aware how much my public reputation plays on your mind, and theirs, so it’s impossible for me to put into words how much I have appreciated your hospitality in allowing me to stay for so long.” He held out a hand to her. “So thank you.”

She stared at it for a time before she finally relaxed her hand, placing it in his palm. His thumb pressed the top of her hand, slightly pulling down the fabric of the glove upon it.

He continued to pull on it after she offered no initial resistance, until the covering had come off completely, and her bare skin was once again touching his. He raised her hand closer to his face, as if to kiss the top of it; but when she noticed the scars from the rose thorns still embedded along his fingers, she jerked her hand from his, and looked away.

“None of this is for you.”

“I know,” he acknowledged. “I wouldn’t think that for a second.”

“Then don’t look so pleased,” she said, her look skeptical, and relaxed back against the wall again. She eyed his hand after a beat. “Does it hurt?”

He held it up, inspecting the red lines along his skin. “Not really. I’ve had worse.”

“From roses?” she mused.

He wore a hollow smile at the question. “No. Not from roses, Elsa.”

An awkward silence settled on the pair for a time, the noises from the games echoing faintly from beyond the tall border wall that separated them from the main lawn.

At length, the prince spoke. “You said something strange yesterday, in the garden.”

She frowned. “What?”

“It was before I pricked my hand. You kept saying over and over again, ‘conceal, don’t feel,’” he recounted in a careful way, “and it was hard to hear you properly after that, but I think it ended with—”

“Don’t let it show,” she murmured, and he blinked in surprise.

“Yes, that was it.” His brow furrowed. “What is that?”

The queen was quiet for a minute, her hands – one gloved, the other bare – gripping the fabric of her dress. Her fingers twitched along a seam.

“It was something my father taught me to say whenever I felt like I was losing control,” she said, pushing out each word with effort. “We used to recite it together, when I was a child. It still brings me some comfort to say it.”

“It brings you… comfort?”

The incredulity in the prince’s voice forced her gaze to meet his, a glower working its way into her features.

“Why do you sound so confused?”

“Because it’s—it’s…” He scoffed, shaking his head. “What in the world was he thinking, saying that to a child? Telling you ‘don’t feel, don’t let it show’?” He repeated the mantra with bewilderment. “To think of the hurt he inflicted on his own daughter in doing so—”

“Hurt? You don’t know what you’re talking about, Hans,” she snapped. “My father loved me, and tried to help me—”

“‘In his own way’—wasn’t that how you put it before?” he interrupted, earning a scowl from her. “And what kind of help was that, Elsa? Covering your hands, keeping you locked away, and giving you empty words to say over and over again until you’d grown to fear and despise your own power? Until you’d shut out everyone, including Anna?”

“You talk as if my father were a uniquely cruel and horrible man, but what of your own?” Her scowl twisted on her lips. “To abandon his youngest son to the malice of his older brothers for so many years, their brutality unchecked and unpunished? What kind of ‘love’ is that?”

“None at all,” he agreed, taking her aback. “But that’s the difference between us, Elsa: I don’t pretend otherwise. I don’t know what my life would’ve been like had he chosen to be a better, kinder man, because he didn’t make that choice. I’ve had to live with the consequences of that, for better or worse. And so have you, with your parents’ choices.”

She was silent after that, and her hands and shoulders visibly trembled when she next spoke.

“They loved me,” she whispered. “I know it.”

“Maybe they did,” he said in a gentler way, “but love… isn’t always good.”

Her voice was hoarse when she addressed him, her eyes tinged red. She wiped any trace of tears from her face.

“What are you saying, Hans?”

He paused to take in the tree branches that hung above them, their leaves long and narrow. “These are apple trees, aren’t they?” he asked, not looking to her for confirmation. He plucked a fruit from the branch, holding it up at eye level for closer examination. “Fine things, apples, when they’re ripe like this. Beautiful, even—your mouth waters just looking at it, thinking about how sweet or tart it might be. But then…”

He turned the fruit in his hand, revealing a small hole in the opposite side. “You see something like this, and even though you want to take a bite out of it, you think, ‘well, I’d better just check.’ So you take out a knife and cut it open,” he said, and dug both of his thumbs into the side where the hole was. “And what do you find?”

She watched as if possessed, and her eyes widened when the apple came apart easily under his ministrations. “Nothing but a rotten, brown core,” he continued, a sigh escaping his lips as he gazed into the fruit’s ruined interior. “The handiwork of a hungry worm, no doubt.”

The queen pulled herself out of her trance, shaking her head, and glared at him.

“And so what? ‘Love is like an apple’? I’ve had enough of your insipid analogies,” she said, rising from her seat. She reached to grab her other glove from his side of the bench, but as she did, he placed his hand on hers, holding her there.

Their noses were nearly touching, and his breath was hot against her cheek. “I know that the memories of your parents are precious to you,” he murmured, his grasp soft, “and I don’t mean to deny you them. I only ask you to question what happened—to ask yourself what good it did you to be kept inside all these years, separated from your sister. And all because of what? You hurt her once, when you didn’t know any better,” he said, “and they made you pay for it, for every moment after. But you shouldn’t have to anymore.”

The juice from the putrid core of the apple oozed out from his fingers onto the back of her hand, and she grimaced, the sensation causing her skin to go cold.

When the prince released her, her lip quivered, and she pressed the other glove to her chest. “It’s not that simple. They were trying to protect me, and Anna.”

“And themselves,” the prince countered, and retrieved a handkerchief from his coat pocket to wipe his hands. “But that’s acting out of fear, not love. You know that.” He laid the used cloth across his lap, and then leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees, looking up at her.

Her breath was visible against the air, her mouth contorting as she tried to respond. “I—”

The sound of footsteps caused both of their heads to swivel towards the entryway, and the queen’s eyes shined with alarm. “Anna,” she whispered, and ran to the entrance, bracing herself against the stone wall as she peered around it.

She caught sight of the hem of the princess’s dress as it stole away back to the main lawn, her breath stopping in her chest as she whipped back around, pressing herself against the wall. Her body began to quake, wisps and curls of ice spidering out along the walls and the ground below from her fingers and feet.

“Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let it show,” she said, shutting her eyes, “conceal, don’t feel, don’t let it—”

“Elsa, stop.”

The ice shattered into pieces as her eyes reopened, finding the prince mere inches from her, her hands clasped in his. She gasped at how hot they felt, and at how tightly he held onto her despite the cold.

Her breath came in short bursts as she tried to gather her wits. “Hans, she saw us, and who knows what she heard.” Her eyes darted back to the entrance, widening with anxiety. “Perhaps there were others, too, that we didn’t notice.”

“There weren’t—I would’ve seen them,” he said, and pressed her hands to reassure her. “Anna didn’t hear anything. She was probably just dropping by to see if her ‘scheme’ was working—nothing more.”

“How can you be sure?” Her breathing was still disjointed, and tears welled in her eyes. “If she found out about my powers, or about her stolen memories, just when we’re starting to get along, I… I couldn’t bear it.” She released a half-formed sob, and pushed him away. “I can’t lose her again.”

“Elsa…” the prince began, but she shook her head.

“I need to go,” she said, and left, ignoring the long look from the prince behind her.

»» —— ««

She returned to her quarters that afternoon with no explanation or parting gesture to her guests, who watched her brisk retreat from the games back into the castle in huddles of hushed voices.

Their whispers and stares seemed to follow her even as she laid upon her bed, curled into a ball, and she swallowed the tears that threatened to spill. Nonetheless, though she had long since deposited her mother’s gloves atop her dresser, her magic remained contained by the memory of the prince’s hands on hers—which she presently sunk into her mattress, hiding from view.

Just as her heartbeat had begun to slow down again, her cheek nestled comfortably against her pillow, a knock on her door roused her from her waking sleep.

“What is it?”

“It’s me,” her sister’s voice answered, soft but insistent. “Can we talk?”

The queen sat up in alarm, staring at the door. “I—I’m very tired, Anna,” she stammered. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

She heard a sigh on the other side of the door. “I’m worried about you. You looked so upset when you left.”

Her expression relaxed at the reply, though there was still some caution in her gait as she rose from her bed and approached the door, placing a hand against it.

“You’re right,” she admitted. “I was upset.”

“…was it because of Hans?”

She opened the door just far enough to come face to face with her sister, taking the younger woman by surprise. “I think you know the answer to that,” she drawled, “since you were watching us.”

The princess cowered with embarrassment. “I really didn’t see much, I swear. You two were gone for a while, so I was wondering what happened, is all.”

The queen’s look was suspicious, but a little more patient than before. “Right. Well, I—yes, he upset me,” she conceded, and paused. “I don’t feel like myself when I’m with him.”

“What do you mean?”

Her brow crinkled. “He annoys me, and makes me say and do and think about things that I wouldn’t, normally.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” the princess asked with a half-grin.

The queen’s frown returned. “Yes. I know you may feel otherwise, but I don’t think his influence is a good thing. Not for me, anyway—and probably not for you, either.”

“What are you talking about?” The princess retorted, and planted her hands firmly on her hips. “I don’t know what he did or said to you tonight, but I’ve spent enough time with Hans to know that he really cares for us, Elsa—especially you.” Her brow rose. “But someone probably gave you ‘the talk’ about him, right?”

At the queen’s silence, she continued: “In my case it was Gerda, so I guess you got Kai. He probably told you the same things she told me: ‘he’s suspicious, he’s after the crown, blah blah blah.’ Even Ambassador Dubois lectured me about it, but it was in French, so I missed almost everything except ‘ce n'est pas un homme bon,’ which means—”

“I know what it means, Anna. I used to take French, too.”

“Yes, I know,” the princess said, waving away the interruption. “Anyway, as I was saying: I’ve heard the same stuff from just about everyone, and I’ve seen the way they look at me and him together, and how they looked at you two today. As if we haven’t asked him about the fires and the rumors—it was practically the first question out of my mouth on the night of your coronation!”

The queen stepped back, blinking. “You… asked him about that?”

“Of course!” the princess exclaimed, though she still managed to keep her voice at a hushed volume. “You think I’d let him get within an inch of you if I thought he was some kind of criminal on the run? I made sure to vet him, the same way you’d do for me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “But Kai, Gerda, and those fancy nobles we’ve been hosting at court the past couple weeks? They don’t know him like we do, and they haven’t even tried to get to know him, so they still assume the worst. But I can promise you that he’s a good apple, Elsa.” The princess’s gaze grew more hopeful. “You can see that too, can’t you? Even if it’s just a little bit?”

Her older sister made no reply for a while, disconcerted by the analogy, and then answered.

“Sometimes, yes. But…”

“But what?”

She closed her eyes. “I don’t feel as though I know him very well at all. Not compared to the way you say you do.”

The princess crossed her arms. “Then what’s missing for you?”

The queen looked down at her uncovered hands, her fingers still thrumming from his warmth—and still slightly sticky from the decaying apple’s residue that he had dripped onto them.

Her eyes tightened. “I don’t know, exactly. It’s just a feeling.”

“Well, he’s almost at the end of his two weeks here,” her sister remarked, “so if you don’t figure that ‘feeling’ out soon, there’s a chance you never will.”

The queen’s pulse quickened at the reminder. “Has it been that long already?”

“Yes,” the princess replied, and added with a slight smile: “Are you considering letting him stay for longer?”

Her sister blushed, and raised her chin. “No, I’m not.”

The princess’s grin twitched. “If you say so. But I know a certain prince who’d be very happy if you were.”

“Anna,” the queen warned, and the younger woman made a gesture of surrender.

“I’m just saying—it might be nice.”

“For him, maybe. But I can’t be responsible for the well-being and happiness of a stranger. Neither of us can.”

The princess smiled sadly as she regarded the queen, reaching up a hand to touch her shoulder—and then retracting it before it could land, holding it against her heart.

“I’m not asking you to be ‘responsible’ for him or his feelings,” she said, her head bowed. “I’m just asking you to consider what it would be like if you listened to your own, for once.”

The queen stared at her sister for a long time, unable to form a reply, and swallowed.

“I think that it’s time for you to go, Anna.”

Her sister frowned. “That’s it? You’re just sending me away, like I’m a child?”

“No,” the queen replied, growing taller. “I’m asking you to leave.”

The princess’s spine twisted up to match her sister’s posture, and she shot her an unhappy look. “Fine. Then I’m leaving. Goodbye, Elsa.”

The queen said nothing in return, watching as her sister turned tail and stomped back through the hall to her own bedroom.

She sighed as she closed her door again, plodding over to her wardrobe and pulling out another dress. She laid it neatly on the bed before undoing the bodice of the one she had been wearing until then.

As it dropped to the floor, however, she began to notice a strange mixture of smells waft up to her nose – iron, rot, and sweat – and her gaze was drawn to the gloves she had used that day and the other pair from the day before, still unwashed, laying atop one another on her dresser.

The stench caused her to gag as she gripped the side of the wardrobe, trying to collect herself. Covering her mouth with one hand, she carefully picked up the offending objects between her index finger and thumb of the other, and dropped them into the washbasin on the opposite side of the room.

The gloves floated on the surface, and on instinct she submerged her own hands into the water with them. She rubbed her palms together vigorously, scrubbing off the remnants of the apple, hearing the prince’s voice in her head with every twist of her fingers.

You hurt her once, when you didn’t know any better—and they made you pay for it.

Her jaw clenched at the memory, scrubbing harder, and she did not notice the water growing colder.

For every moment after.

By the time she was ready to withdraw her hands, she found them stuck in place; frowning, she looked down into the bowl, and gulped.

The water was frozen.

#helsa #QueenoftheAshesFrozen #frozen #frozen fanfiction

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clodbatlet · 3 years

Text

Chet Chester?!

Chet Chester had crazy eyes.

That was the first thing Sol Fitzroy thought when he saw him. There he was on the field, making what was supposed to be a soccer game into pure chaos. The ball was his—it had been his the entire time, and anyone who dared to approach was promptly kicked in the shins. His teammates had long given up and most of them had retreated to the corner, where they watched him play a one-man game unhappily. The other team was equally miserable, not the least because some were already sporting bruises from where he'd elbowed and kicked them. Some looked pleadingly at the referee for help, but even he was averting his eyes from the scene.

It was an absolute farce of a game. It was also the first game Sol found interesting in his life.

He was there not by choice, but because it was good to keep up appearances. When your parents owned the fourth largest food conglomerate in the nation, you had to have a public face. It was showing school spirit, supporting the community, and most importantly, made for a great public image. The Fitzroy heir, watching a soccer game like all the other kids his age. His parents would like that. It would be good for business, less so for Sol—heavens knew he wasn't the participative sort. Things stopped being fun a long time ago, even if this game was proving to be different.

The other spectators were beginning to leave, but Sol leaned forward and kept his eyes on Chet. As horrible as he was being, there was something magnetic about his every move. From his footwork, Sol could tell he was an undeniably good player, even if there were no limits to how he terrorized the field.

He probably read the rulebook then threw it out, Sol thought. It was a funny mental image.

At this point, everyone had given up trying to approach Chet. This seemed to suit him perfectly, and there was a savage, unbridled glee on his face as he kicked the ball. Effortlessly, or perhaps because of his ruthless efforts, he scored again and again. No one was even tracking his goals anymore, but he kept going until time ran out. As the referee announced his victory, the glint in his eye was chilling.

In the post-game rush, Chet stood alone on the field. His teammates kept their distance from him, some already leaving, but he seemed not to care. After all, it had been a one-man game.

As Chet wiped the sweat on his face with his shirt, Sol found himself looking for a very different reason. His face felt warm but what could he say? It must've been the sun.

Chet looked over, saw him staring, and smiled.

---

Chet Chester was a cheating bastard.

Sol should've known the soccer game wasn't a one-time thing. It was almost laughable to expect someone who played so underhandedly to be docile in everything else.

Sometimes the school had a bad habit of posting rankings after an exam, mostly to shame the low scorers. It was an unfortunate side effect of being in a private school that was as ruthless as it was exclusive. Sol always scored last, or at least in the bottom, but he was unpopular enough that it was fine. No one expected him to get good grades so it wasn't a surprise when he didn't. Besides, with how much money his parents threw at the school, he always passed in the end. And as long as did, he didn't care where he was on a list.

This time though, he couldn't help but check the rankings, not for his name but Chet's. It was near the top.

"Nice, huh?"

Next to him, Chet was speaking to a friend of his. He sounded smug, like he was talking about a victory he didn't deserve.

His friend laughed. "I have no idea how you do it, man. You're always sleeping in class, it's crazy."

Chet looped one arm around his shoulders, said something about being a sleeping genius, and dragged his friend away.

At first, Sol thought he was simply smart. Then he saw the slip of paper in his pocket. It dawned on him, and he wondered how much the cheat sheet had cost. Did he buy it from another student, maybe an upper-year looking for a quick buck? Or was it a teacher that let him take it? Some teachers were more lenient than others, if you knew who to ask. There were tricks to this trade and it wasn't like Sol hadn't tried himself. But no matter what he did, he always got caught and those were terrible conversations to have with his parents. Sol swallowed and grimaced—there was something to be said about the irony of paying your way through school and still failing.

There was smart enough to study and then there was smart enough not to get caught. If Chet was the latter, then Sol was neither.

---

Chet Chester was also observant.

"You've been watching me," he said one day from behind Sol.

It caught Sol by surprise. He didn't realize Chet had noticed and besides, right now he wasn't watching him at all. Instead, he'd been looking at the sunset through the chain-link fence that bordered their school. It was a good way to pass the time, and Sol had been there for a while, not wanting to go home just yet. His parents always worked late anyway. He looked at Chet, with his face illuminated in orange, and decided he'd rather watch him.

Still, what was he supposed to say now? He didn't want to say the wrong thing.

There was one thing Sol always said that worked no matter the situation. With his parents, his teachers, his so-called friends who were only there for his wallet—it was the fastest way to get them to give up on you.

"I don't know."

After all, it wasn't like being a blockhead got you anywhere in life.

Chet smiled. "Sure you don't," he said, a pleasant lilt to his voice. He cocked his head. "I'm smarter than I look, you know. And it seems you are too."

Well, that was new. Sol had never heard anyone say that before. Chet was gambling on him, placing his bets on Sol—or at least, on his estimation of him. It was the stupidest thing anyone could do. Except for his parents, Sol didn't think he had anything going for him. He'd always felt empty, like a hollow shell of a person, lacking something important that everyone else had. Even Chet had it, the spark of life that made his eyes shine. And yet, Chet wanted to know him. Sol was oddly touched.

But he still didn't know what to say. So rather than saying anything, he looked down at his feet. Silence had become the best option.

Chet's smile only grew. There was a feral edge to it, one that Sol couldn't take his eyes away from. Chet stepped forward and they were close now, close enough for Sol to feel warm.

The air was still cold, and the heat of Sol's face felt like rebellion. He swallowed, watching Chet carefully. He was speaking again.

"Why don't we be friends?"

With that, Chet extended a hand, all smiles and friendliness, but all Sol could see was the calculating look in his eye. He was judging him, Sol realized. Waiting for a response, to see if Sol measured up to whatever ideal he had of him. Sol was used to this and he was even more used to letting people down afterwards. But somehow, Sol didn't want to let Chet down.

This was a terrible decision but Sol didn't care. Wrinkling the sleeve of his perfectly ironed uniform, he took Chet's hand and shook. Just once but that was enough.

"Okay."

#writeblr #writers of tumblr #short story #short fiction #character study #chet chester #sol fitzroy #writing

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ronninoir · 4 years

Text

Can I Steal You for a Second? CH8

Summary: Adrien is forced to participate in a new dating show, but becomes more excited when Ladybug says she’ll participate as her civilian self.

AKA: AU where Adrien doesn’t know Marinette, the superheroes are 22 and Gabriel is mean and ruthless but not Hawkmoth.

Read on AO3

Start from the beginning Chp 1 on AO3

Chapter 8

Getting ready for the second half of the date was a breeze. Marinette had been feeling so confident and beautiful earlier that it just carried on into the second half of the evening. She was brought food into a room where she was getting ready and had to stuff her face in between styling her hair and putting on her make-up. When Marinette thought of dates, she thought of going out to eat and chatting over a meal and possibly sharing a dessert and fighting with the boy over who was going to pay, but instead her first date with Adrien consisted of a fashion show, eating in her dressing room and sharing the boy with 8 other girls.

She was ready right as all of the other girls were and she had to admit, they all looked amazing. Marinette’s confidence began to ebb as the excitement of the fashion show died down and reality that she would have very little time to talk to Adrien set in. Getting to talk to him at all will be exciting, but she was still nervous. Alya briefed her on the low-down of group dates before she left and they usually involve fighting for time and any sort of drama that can ensue from putting so many girls in one place.

They arrived at a gorgeous hotel (not Chloe’s Father’s, thank goodness) not long after the loaded into the van. There, a meeting area in a wing of the hotel was set up for them. They would be allowed to sit and be pulled away to chat with Adrien one at a time. The main area they were sitting in was beautifully decorated and had a rose on a dish sitting on the table. The girls were told not to leave this area unless they were asked or needed to go to the bathroom, etc. They were all handed drinks, and Marinette got a glass of white wine since they wouldn’t let her drink water this early in the evening.

They waited for about 15 minutes for Adrien to walk in. Marinette sipped her wine while everyone else chatted about how the date had went and strategizing about what they were going to talk about with Adrien. Marinette wasn’t too worried. She had spent many hours just chatting with Adrien, only while he was Chat Noir. If the conversation ever came to a lull, she would be able to figure something out.

Marinette heard a gasp and looked up to see Adrien entering. He looked stunning in his tailored slacks and green button down that brought out the color of his eyes. Some of the girls giggled excitedly as he got closer and he smiled at them all.

“Hey ladies! Today was so much fun. I really enjoyed being a spectator on a runway, rather than a performer.” More giggles from the girls. “You guys did an amazing job and I was reminded of just how beautiful you all are. I can’t wait to talk with all of you tonight and dive in deeper with our relationships.” He paused and made eye contact with all of the girls before his eyes landed on Marinette. “Marinette, can I steal you for a second?”

Marinette couldn’t help the blush that spread on her face. “Of course,” She stood up and followed him from the group. She could feel their eyes on her as she walked, but honestly, she couldn’t bring herself to care much with Adrien by her side.

“How are you doing tonight?” He started, shooting Marinette a smile that made her heart flutter.

“It’s been pretty good so far. I will say I’m not a fan of eating in my dressing room, but I guess I’ll have to make do.” She gave a light laugh and Adrien joined in. It felt wonderful to hear him laugh, like a breath of fresh air after being underwater for a couple of minutes.

“Sadly, if you choose to stay you’ll have to get used to it.” Adrien had led her to a couch that was giving out the illusion of privacy. But nothing was actually private here with the cameras lurking around. Adrien had Marinette sit first, like the gentleman he was, then he sat next to her, making sure to sit what could be considered an appropriate distance. Marinette thought he was too far away. “At least you only have to do it once a week. Between modeling and this, I feel like I only eat my meals in dressing rooms.”

Marinette frowned at that. She’d heard Chat say that his home life wasn’t great. Once she had found out he was Adrien, she just assumed that he ate with Gabriel, his father just didn’t talk to him much over meals. The thought of her kitty eating meals alone all the time broke her heart. “Well then when this is all over, I’ll have to take you to a restaurant and show you how normal people eat meals,” Marinette said firmly.

Adrien’s eyes lit up. “You mean that?”

“Win or lose, I promise. Cross my heart.” She took her finger and crossed it over her heart, just to show that she was serious.

“Wow, thank you Marinette. That means so much to me.” He gave her hand a little squeeze and she intertwined her fingers with his. Their hands fit together so naturally and it sent electricity up Marinette’s arm. “I actually wanted to let you know how impressed I was with you today at the fashion show. Not only did you look amazing up there, but you handled losing very well. I don’t know if any of the other girls could have done what you did with such grace.” She blushed under his words as he continued, “Anyway, I wanted to thank you for your reaction. Awarding the winner could have gone really poorly and you helped it go really well.”

Marinette was beaming under his praise. She had channeled her inner Ladybug on the catwalk today, much preferring to be the designer watching from the sidelines than the actual model. She had been happy for Gabrielle, and in Marinette’s opinion, she wore the final dress better than she did for sure. She appreciated that Adrien noticed her even though she didn’t win, it meant that he saw her even through the crowd.

“That’s really kind of you, Adrien, but you don’t have to thank me for being nice. That’s something that everyone should do naturally.”

“If that were true, Ladybug and Chat Noir would be out of a job. There wouldn’t be anyone for Hawkmoth to akumatize.” He gave a soft chuckle before his face grew suddenly serious. “Speaking of that, I have a question for you.” Marinette nodded, and he continued, “Is there a particular reason that Chloe Bourgeois doesn’t like you?”

Marinette sighed. As much as she was expecting it, she was still hoping that this topic wouldn’t come up in her conversation with Adrien. She had decided that being honest was the best possible way to deal with this and hopefully making it go away.

“She went to school with me when I was younger. She was in my class for 7 years in a row and she became my bully. No matter what I did, she picked on me, made fun of me, and drew attention to my mistakes in front of everyone. It wasn’t until I got older that I started standing up to her. I could never figure out why, but she never apologized for it and I never confronted her for a reason. I was hoping that she would drop whatever problem she had with me when we left high school, but she just took to subtle comments on social media and casual digs when we passed each other in the street.” Adrien’s jaw was dropped and Marinette wanted to stop, but Adrien needed to know what she had said to her today. “She even brought some of that anger with her today. Right before the fashion show started, she pulled me aside, tore me down and told me that I wouldn’t ever be able to get you, as if you were some prize to be won.” Marinette scoffed and shook her head. Her Kitty was worth more than a trophy to her. When she made eye contact with Adrien, she gave him a small smile, “She is actually the reason I picked my evening gown dress. She had said that I could never pull off that dress, so I decided to prove her wrong.”

Adrien looked shocked and she wished she could say something to make this easier on him. He took her hands and looked at her so intensely, Marinette thought she would shrink, but she stood her ground. “Marinette, I am so so sorry for the way that Chloe treated you, today, in school and every day in between. She is one of my oldest friends and she has always been kind to me. I never realized that she wasn’t the kindest to the other people she interacted with.” He shook his head and he suddenly wouldn’t look at her in the eyes. “I saw the way she treated the employees at the hotel and I should have known that would translate to her classmates.”

“You never know everything about a person until you live a day in their shoes.” Marinette responded, placing her other hand on his shoulder. She yearned to touch his cheek, but she didn’t want to frighten him. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“You’re right,” He sighed, his eyes briefly meeting hers. When he looked back up at her, he had a sly smile on his lips that reminded her of something Chat would wear when he was going to do something crazy. She lowered her hand to her lap as he leaned in to whisper, “Well then I guess I have Chloe to thank for that jaw-dropping dress.”

Marinette’s blush returned once again and she ducked her head, trying to hide the color. His hand gently touched her chin and lifted her head towards him. She automatically leaned closer to him, craving more of his kisses, though she knew that he had to be the one to initiate it. When their lips did touch, she had to stop herself from sighing. She had been dreaming about doing this again since Sunday night. His lips were soft and gentle, not asking too much of her. When they broke apart, she smiled and rested her forehead on his.

“I really like you, Adrien,” She blurted out. The heat returned to her cheeks as his smile grew at her statement.

“I really like you too, Marinette. Thank you for everything today.” He leaned back and stood up, offering her a hand to stand with him. She took it gratefully and he shifted their hands to where his arm was wrapped around hers while still having his fingers entwined in hers. They started walking back to where the other girls were gathered.

“Thank you, Adrien, for everything. We should do it again sometime,” She shot him a bright smile and he laughed.

“We really should.”

----------------------------------------------------

The rest of the night was anticlimactic compared to her kiss with Adrien. She found out through the grapevine that he had ended up kissing Gabrielle, Camille, Hanna, and Juliette before the end of the night. At least she got to be the first one, but the thought of Adrien kissing 4 other girls tonight made her shiver. She had to keep reminding herself that this was exactly what she had signed up for, but it still sucked.

The only major drama that had come up involved Gabrielle. Pauline was upset at how much time Gabrielle got to spend with Adrien even though she had some time already after she won the fashion show earlier in the date. Gabrielle argued that she had barely spent any time with him after the show and that she needed to “mind her own business instead of sticking her nose into other’s relationship with Adrien.” Marinette had caught the end of the fight on her way back from the bathroom and was glad she had missed the majority of the shouting. Most of the other girls had scattered when the yelling started in order to avoid being dragged into this. Marinette found Hanna and Juliette hiding behind a wall right next to where the two girls were staring daggers at each other.

“I heard the yelling, are they almost done yet? Adrien should be giving away the group date rose soon and we can go home and sleeeeeep,” Marinette asked pitifully as she rested her head on Hanna’s shoulder. This elicited a giggle from both girls and Marinette smiled knowing that she had dissolved some of the tension the others had created.

“They should be.” Juliette replied while peeking around the corner. “I heard that the producers wanted to keep these emotions as high as possible for when Adrien gave out the group date rose to make it seem more heated on film.” Sure enough, as soon as Juliette had said that, a group of producers came around shuffling the girls into the main room with Gabrielle and Pauline, who were still very clearly mad, although a silence surrounded them.

Almost as soon as the other girls were seated on the couches, Adrien walked into the room. Marinette noticed that almost every single girl sat up straighter and their smiles became brighter when he walked in. Some of the smiles seemed more forced and fake than others, but Marinette couldn’t help but be bothered by how “showy” this whole part of the date felt.

Adrien inserted himself on the couch in between Valentine and Alice and addressed the girls as a group, “Thank you so much for tonight. It was so refreshing to be able to just talk to all of you with minimal distractions.” Marinette took that to mean that he had heard of the fight, but had decided not to do anything about it just yet. She was worried he would let this slide and would send the message that fighting and drama was okay within the house. That would only bring more problems. “The group date rose tonight is going to someone who was brutally honest with me and wasn’t afraid to hold anything back, even if it could stir up problems.” Adrien leaned across the table and grabbed the rose, and Marinette took a quick peek at his toned muscles as he stretched. Running around rooftops had done him good in the muscle department, just as Marinette was extra toned from her constant rooftop runs. Adrien sat back down with the rose and turned towards Marinette. “That being said, Marinette, will you accept this rose?”

Marinette blushed, once again, she just couldn’t catch a break with him tonight, as she gave a nod. He reached over and gave her a hug before sitting back down on the couch. He looked up at one of the producers, a question unspoken in his eyes.

The producer nodded and stepped forward. “Thank you, ladies, that was a wonderful take. Go ahead and take a quick moment to interview with our crew, 3 girls per camera, and then we’ll send you guys back to the mansion.”

Marinette stood up with the other girls and waited her turn to give Adrien a hug goodbye. He whispered a quick, “Thank you for your honesty, Marinette. It means so much to me,” before giving her a quick squeeze and moving onto the next girl. She snagged a camera crew, hoping to get the interview over with quickly so she could sleep.

“How did you feel going into the cocktail party tonight? Be sure to restate the question and pretend it’s the beginning of the night.”

“Coming into the cocktail party tonight, I am just excited to see Adrien again. I felt so confident and beautiful doing the fashion show that I feel like I’m coming in on such a high. I really hope that this amazing day continues with a good conversation with Adrien.”

“Great response. What did you think of Chloe Bourgeois coming up in your conversation with Adrien this evening?”

“I knew Adrien was going to ask about Chloe. From the moment we entered Gabriel and saw her, I knew I would have to tell Adrien about my relationship with her. It’s an important part of my history that I want him to know, especially since Chloe is a friend of his.”

“What do you think about being Adrien’s first kiss?”

Marinette broke her composure and blanched. How in the world did they know about the fact that she, as Ladybug, was Adrien’s first kiss? She decided to play dumb rather than incriminate herself further. “What do you mean?”

“You were Adrien’s first kiss on the show, and as far as the public knows, his first kiss ever. How does that make you feel? How was he?”

She sighed and let her whole body relax. These people didn’t know that she was Ladybug or know of the pair’s other kisses. She gave a gentle smile, which she hoped would come off as shy rather then conceited and began to lie, “I honestly didn’t know but I’m honored that he chose me to be the first.” That was true, she just felt that a couple of days ago. “And considering he hasn’t done much kissing before tonight, he was surprisingly wonderful at it.”

“How did finding out that he kissed 4 other girls tonight as well make you feel?”

“Finding out that Adrien had kissed 4 other girls tonight made my skin crawl. I just—” She paused, wondering how real she wanted to be with the camera. She decided to just be honest and hope that if it isn’t interesting enough they won’t put it in the show. “I hate that he’s dating the other girls as well. I know it’s part of the process, but I like Adrien enough to want to keep him for myself.”

One of the producers cleared his throat and whispered to the man behind the camera. “Sorry, Marinette, we are going to need you to redo that. Instead of saying the word “process” say “journey,” okay?” Marinette gave them a blank look to which they responded, “It’s a rule. We don’t call the show a ‘process’ because that makes it sound cynical. We call it a ‘journey’ so it sounds more optimistic.”

At that, she nodded obediently. “Can you remind me of what I said?”

“Yeah, it started with ‘I hate that he’s dating the other girls as well. I know it’s part of the journey, but I don’t want to share Adrien.’”

Marinette nodded and made the change they had asked of her. It was weird that she had to edit her own words, but she could try to remember to not say “process” and instead say “journey.” That way, she shouldn’t have to do that again.

----------------------------------------------------

Adrien collapsed onto his bed with an exasperated sigh.

“Who knew dating 9 girls at once could be so exhausting?” Adrien asked his pillow. Sadly, the only response he received was from Plagg.

“Why didn’t you address the fight the girls had?” Plagg asked, flying close to Adrien’s head. He shifted on the bed so he could see his kwami better.

“Why do you care?”

“Because not dealing with conflict quickly after it happens can cause more problems later on.” Plagg replied matter-of-factly.

“And you know this because....?”

“Listen here, kid. I’ve been around for thousands of years. I’ve seen a lot and I’ve dealt with a lot of petty problems. Why do you think that the 100 Years War got started? Over a small fight that was left to stew and grew into something big.”

“Wait, didn’t the English try to take over France? That doesn’t seem like a small thing.”

“That’s what the public knows of. It actually started because the French king didn’t think that the English were ruling their country correctly and he made a snide comment. It grew from there.”

“That’s not true,” Adrien countered, sitting up in his bed.

“Kid,” Plagg started, putting a paw up to stop Adrien from talking. “I know what I’m talking about. So, shut up and listen for a bit.” Adrien nodded to show his compliance. “You need to address this problem. Ask the girls why they were upset, get both sides of their stories, if you can explain what you saw/thought/heard. From there you need to calm both girls down and help them to find some sort of solution that both can accept.”

Adrien was speechless as Plagg flew away to his stash of Camembert. When he brought a piece back to the bed, Adrien didn’t even have it in him to shoo him away. He let the advice Plagg gave him swim around in his head. He knew that putting 22 girls to live with each other for a long amount of time was going to cause problems, he just didn’t know it would happen so soon. He needs to ready and next time, he can solve a fight like this quicker.

“Plagg?” The god gave a slight hum to show he was listening. “What can I do to fix the problem from tonight?”

Plagg swallowed his Camembert and then flew up to Adrien’s face. “You’re going to have to wait until the cocktail party on Saturday. Hopefully this will blow over, but if it comes up again, you have to address it.”

“Thank you, Plagg. I really appreciate that you care.” Adrien changed into his pajamas and began getting ready for bed.

“Anytime, kid. Someone’s got to be in your corner through all this.”

Soon Adrien heard Plagg’s snores and he ended up tossing and turning all night, thinking about what Plagg said and what other crazy things this show had in store for him.

----------------------------------------------------

The rest of the week was boring, and yet slightly entertaining. Because she had her date early in the week, she spent the rest of the week distracting herself before the cocktail party later on. She was required to attend the other two date card readings, which thankfully happened on the same day, just at different times. Lucie ended up with the one-on-one for this week. Everyone else would be going on a second group date, except Ines, Sophia and Lily, who were left dateless. Marinette spent some time comforting them, especially when Lila said something along the lines of, “He didn’t choose you because he doesn’t like you which means you’re going home.”

Once everyone was calm, Marinette entertained herself. Lucie was going on her date first, so most of the other girls were left in the house. Marinette was going to stay in her room and sketch in order to avoid all of the potential drama. However, Hanna found her and dragged her downstairs to the kitchen which was filled with laughing and happy-shouting. All of the girls had gathered and were receiving “cooking lessons” from Lila, who had claimed to be an amazing cook.

The kitchen was a mess and everyone was laughing at their lame attempts of whatever Lila was trying to get them to make. When Hanna walked in with Marinette, she announced, “Don’t worry guys! Marinette’s parents own a bakery! She can teach us how to make something!” The other girls applauded and made sounds of their general approval as she was pushed to the front of the group. Lila was not amused and sulked to the back of the room with her arms crossed over her chest, refusing to participate.

“Ooh! Can you teach us how to make macarons? I’ve always wanted to know how! Please?” One of the girls called out. Marinette couldn’t tell who had said it, but the other girls picked up her plea and Marinette was forced to agree.

2 hours later (the others were slow and messy learners, plus they had to clean up the kitchen from Lila’s cooking disaster) the girls were all munching on their own macarons and chatting with the others about how much fun that all was. Marinette was sitting with Ines and Marie when she had a realization. The girls were laughing about something Marie had did that ended up with her covered in flour head-to-toe. Of course, Marinette had multiple stories like that, and as she listened to their small group cackle about one she had shared, she realized that she didn’t hate these girls. If they were put in the same class at school or forced to meet in some other way besides this show, they would probably all be friends.

The thought made Marinette reevaluate how she had been spending her days. Sure, she needed to be able to escape in case an akuma came by, but how in the world could she survive her time in the mansion if she didn’t at least try to get along with the other girls?

For the rest of the week, she stayed in the main meeting area. She ended up playing Monopoly, Clue (which she was actually good at), Twister, and even swept the crowd during a game of Poker. She got her fingernails painted by Lily and her toes painted by Constance. She laughed and smiled and actually enjoyed herself. Before she knew it, Friday was here and the girls were chatting about the cocktail party and rose ceremony the next day. Lucie had walked away from her one-on-one with a rose, and Sasha got one from the second group date.

The tension in the mansion rose as the cocktail party grew closer. Marinette did laundry and cleaned both her bedroom and the bathroom she was assigned to distract herself. Finally, she settled into bed early and began writing a letter to Alya. If she could finish it before Sunday, she could deliver it to Alya’s window without her knowing.

As she was writing, Mathilde came into the room. Marinette had tried to have conversations with her, but she never seemed interested. She started to get ready for bed, but instead of taking off her make-up, she started to reapply.

“Hey, umm, Mathilde? Do you mind if I ask what you’re doing?” Marinette asked hesitantly from the bed.

“I’m obviously getting ready for bed.” Mathilde stated flatly.

“Then why are you putting more make-up on?”

Mathilde turned away from her make-up mirror and rolled her eyes at Marinette. “Well, tomorrow is a rose ceremony, and I want to make sure that I am ready for the cameras in the morning. This way, when I get woken up, I already look beautiful.” Marinette shrugged and let her be. She thought her reasoning was flawed, but decided to ignore it.

When Saturday morning came, Mathilde wasn’t the only one who had prepared themselves for an early morning. Multiple other girls had make-up on as Marinette watched them stumble out of bed. She tried to sleep late, but apparently, she was the only one in the house with that mindset. The overall noise of 21 girls moving and interacting and getting ready was too much for Marinette as she slipped out of bed and started getting ready.

The cocktail party wouldn’t start until 7 tonight, just like on the first night, but even before lunch the girls were getting ready. Marinette spent the morning in the main room like she had all week, but no one was in the mood to enjoy any sort of conversation. The only girls who were as calm as Marinette were Lucie and Sasha. Finally, Marinette couldn’t handle it. She snuck up to her room, locked the door with a note that said “Napping, will be awake by 4:30” for Mathilde, and transformed.

Marinette was very particular about not roaming Paris during the day time as Ladybug unless there was an akuma, but she had to break the rules today. She secretly hoped that Adrien as Chat Noir would show up as well, but after running around the city, taking pictures with fans, and even running into Alya and recording something for the Ladyblog, she saw no Chat. She went back to the mansion and gave Tikki a chance to recharge and unlocked the door right as 4:30 hit. She busied herself with getting ready as all of the other girls began to do the same.

When 7 o’clock came around, the girls were gathered in one of the couch areas, awaiting someone to appear and officially start the cocktail party. One of producers showed up and addressed the gathered group.

“Okay ladies, Adrien will be here in about 30 minutes. What we need from you now is kind of like a group discussion. I have some questions that I am going to have one girl ask the group, then you guys can take turns answering. If you have an answer, speak up so we can hear you and please be respectful while the others are talking.”

The group discussion was super boring. The girls talked about how their opinions on the dates were, what bothered them, how excited they are for time with Adrien tonight, etc. Marinette just wanted to get the whole thing over with.

Once the questions were finished and without warning, Adrien walked in the room. All of the girls squealed and awed and were just generally excited to see him.

“Hello, ladies.” Adrien walked in beaming, and the girls began standing as he got closer. He was smartly dressed in a fitted suit and maroon tie. He looked handsome, although Marinette knew she wouldn’t be spending much time with him since she already had a rose.

“You all look amazing tonight, I’m glad you’ve taken to the Gabriel wardrobe well.” He paused and a couple of girls giggled and played with their dresses, but most were giving their full attention to Adrien. “I don’t know about all of you, but I’ve had a pretty amazing week this week. I’m excited to see how all of our conversations go tonight, and I know not everyone here had a date, and for that I want to apologize. I can’t wait to talk to all of you tonight though, and I look forward to all of the conversations. So, cheers to tonight!” He raised a glass that had magically appeared in his hand and the girls all gave a little cheer.

Lily was the first one to swoop in as she grabbed Adrien’s arm and walked out of the room. Marinette had pretty much decided to stay out of the other girls’ way and to just let them talk. At the end, she was going to say hi, give him a hug, and let him be. But until then, she got to be bored.

Tikki was roaming the house, but kept an eye on Marinette just in case. When a producer’s phone started going off with an akuma alert, Tikki was the one to notice. She quickly found Marinette, who pretended to feel faint. Hanna and Juliette helped her to her room and told her to lay down until the rose ceremony so she didn’t faint on camera. She locked the door, and transformed for the second time that day.

Y’all this virus has us pumping some chapters out, expect chapter nine in the next couple days!

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list

@momor3202

@legendaryneckjudgestudent

@discoveringmiraculouswriters

@adrianarfox

@veroocasanova

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

Text

AU where someone, anyone, shows up to comfort Dick after the TWO canon times someone burns down Haly’s Circus, his childhood home - just to hurt him. First Blockbuster, and then Joker, in the New 52. Like....Dick already lost it once, when he was taken away from it as a child, but how debilitating must it have been to lose it a second time, and know it only happened because of his connection to it?

On a somewhat similar note, my nonexistent kingdom that I’ve already given away like a dozen times in posts like this, for fic that has one of the Batfamily freaking TALK to Dick about the revelation of his family’s history with the Court of Owls. I’m not talking about fic where he’s abducted by the Court or turned into a Talon - just purely having a conversation with him about the psychological and emotional impact of finding out that he thought he had no biological family left, but turns out, he’s got an immortal great grandfather who’s an assassin for a secret society and who has intended Dick to follow in his footsteps since before he was born.

Like, imagine what that revelation has to do to a person, ESPECIALLY someone like Dick, for whom his independence is so fundamental and important to him as a person. Who, thematically, is a character who routinely has his agency violated in all manner of ways, not just sexually, but in how his world was upended after his parents’ died and he wasn’t allowed to stay in comfortable and familiar environs, or how he was fired from being Robin and had very little control over his own legacy at times. Or the many, MANY times he’s been brainwashed or controlled by villains, the way he so often has to put aside what he wants to do or be or what’s important to him to be what others need, like when he became Batman while Bruce was lost in time. Or the way villains tend not to target him directly, but rather everyone around him, not just Blockbuster but the Court, Joker, Deathstroke, and more have all followed this pattern, resulting in the frequent loss of friends, casual acquaintances, his various homes, his entire city....

My point being, Dick doesn’t often have memorable physical traumas to point to as proof of what he’s been through over the years, as even the ones he does have, like his two times being shot in the head, tend to get glossed over and moved past. But that’s also largely because the vast majority of his traumas and tragedies are intangible, attacks on his agency and his choices, his freedom to be in control of his own life.

Which of course, translates directly into WHY he’s so stubborn about things, and why he’s so volatile when he feels his choices are being limited or not respected, and so fiercely protective of his right to be his own person, outside of just who he is as Bruce’s son, partner, leader of the Titans, etc. He doubles down whenever he has the opportunity to make his own choices at all, because of how rarely that’s even been possible for him throughout his life, and how much he expects and takes it for granted that his choices will come under attack and people are going to once again try and take away his ability to decide what he does.

Because that is the pattern in his life. The one that repeats most consistently.

So imagine what an opportunity the Court of Owls is, just to have Dick’s family really GET this about him. Because often, given how stubborn and impassioned they all are, they wind up on the opposite side of Dick in arguments about his choices, and so even in relatively minor disagreements....they’re poised to be defensive about their own stances, and why they feel the way they do about his various choices. But Dick’s forceful denial and resistance to his biological great-grandfather’s agenda for him...how it affects him, what a blow it is to him for the specific reasons it is - that the very idea of his life’s path having been predetermined by someone else is an attack on who he fundamentally is at his core....its an ideal opportunity for them to understand, to view objectively, as spectators rather than active participants....that its NEVER been about them. Its never been about Dick coming into conflict with them on these matters because of something he does or doesn’t feel about these various members of his family of choice. It was always going to happen, no matter WHO it was in opposition to him, because this is JUST WHO DICK IS.

He NEEDS that independence, that freedom to be his own person, that ability to sometimes put distance between himself and anyone else, whether the Titans or Bruce or Kory or Babs....and to be able to say I am still me, I am not defined by who I am in those settings or those dynamics....I am the person I am because of ME....to be able to say, to know, to believe...that he is still his own person, not just the sum of what Bruce and various other important figures in his life WANT him to be.

And this, I think, is at the heart of so many of Dick’s conflicts with his friends and family, because they look at him being stubborn over something they don’t see as that big of a deal....not realizing he looks at it and sees just one more attempt in a long, LONG string of them, to get him to fit into someone else’s mold, fall in line with someone else’s expectations or desires for him.

And Cobb and the Court of Owls are like...the ULTIMATE embodiment of that. The reappearance of biological family in Dick’s life, long after he’d thought that an impossibility....but bringing with him nothing BUT expectations, agendas and plans for Dick, whether he wants them or not....and he very much does not.

Imagine the impact this must have on someone who lost his first family when he was so young. There was SO MUCH he likely never got a chance to know. All the questions he must have had for them over the years, about his parents, their parents, their family history....just some basic connection to where they came from, where he came from. The kind of things his parents might have been waiting to tell him when he was older, because they’re not always good stories, just...

To have closed the door on that part of his life, no doubt thinking it was for good, because there was nothing more to be learned about all of that....and then surprise, surprise - here it comes swinging wide open, an ancestor whose son was the literal birth of the Grayson family name.....as William specifically picked that name for his son when he gave him to Haly’s Circus a hundred years ago.

Here’s someone who has all the answers Dick might ever have wanted to ask, who is that direct connection to his family history and past.....but whose very existence is a catch-22, because he comes with all these strings attached...strings that Dick absolutely does not want attached to him, no matter what Cobb could offer him in return.

This is a huge emotional upheaval, no doubt. A shock to the system that upends so much Dick’s long implicitly believed about his family and his place in the world....and I’ve never seen anything actually delving into what effect this and this alone would have had on his psyche.

There’s such rich potential for his family to reach out to him in the wake of his learning all this and reaffirm for him just WHY they are his family in ways Cobb could never be....as long as they themselves use the opportunity to reaffirm how important it is to Dick to even HAVE family, a support system, that lets him just....be.

That values him for who HE wants to be, rather than how well or not he’s living up to their intentions for him. Vowing never to be the kind of family Dick’s last biological family has proven to be....people who would throw away everything Dick is, everything Dick has made of himself, by his own choice....in order to prioritize instead, what they think he should be.

Like, centering this particular plot or character arc as the crux of a fic about Dick’s family of choice gathering around him to shore up whatever damage the reveal of Dick’s biological family does to him.....that has SO MUCH POTENTIAL to cement a new understanding between Dick and the rest of the Batfamily as to WHY he’s the way he is, and why certain things are so important to him....if they’re just written showing a willingness to accept this and understand that....they don’t always HAVE to understand his choices in order to just....be supportive and trust in his decisions and his reasons for prioritizing the way he does.

I do think due to the....idk, ‘shiny’ factor of the Talons and that aspect of the Court of Owls storyline, its easy to overlook a lot of the other angles inherent in the larger concept. But IMO the reveal of Dick’s secret family history and Cobb and the Court’s intentions for him alone is a psychological treasure trove of potential character development, insight, angst and more.

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aurmgoldau · 4 years

Text

The Fox and the Cat - pt 2

It was settled: Ignitia would up against Li in one round fight.

“Is it really okay?” Li fidgeted. They had five minutes preparation before the fight started. “And why they agree for this …?”

“The bartender is the owner and the one responsible for this place,” Anya replied, lowered her voice. “This place runs an illegal event and she, of course, wants to keep it a secret with all cost. We accidentally discovered her secret. She will certainly want to make sure we shut our mouth, right?”

Li nodded.

“I told her we won’t spill the beans. We’re students and we’re gonna get into trouble if words come out about we visited this place.”

Li nodded again.

“But,” Anya took a glance at Ignitia who stood across them, “there’s no guarantee Ignitia will forget about the incident today. So, I asked the bartender what will settle the problem between us? Will a round of fight with Ignitia do?”

“They agree?”

“Ignitia agreed. A few others encouraged her to accept. She isn’t too well-liked, apparently. Some people want to see her lost.”

“She’s glaring at us ….”

“Yeah. Scary. I wonder what’s her day job.”

“It’s a different ‘scary’ than when Mom is angry.”

“Obviously.”

“Fighters! Get into your position!”

Li took a deep breath. She bit her lip and looked at Anya again.

“I’ll take care of these.” Anya patted Li’s folded vest and scarf. Li was told to leave them out. Accessories and trinkets should be removed to ensure a fair fight. “Your bracelet too.”

The bracelet was the most important one.

“Knock her out when I signal you to do so,” Anya reminded Li.

“Okay.”

The rules were simple enough and similar to any sparring Li had. No weapon, no Semblance. Hitting body area below abdomen was BIG NO. No poking eyes, no clawing, no biting. Punch only, no kicking.

Sometimes Li wondered whether the “no clawing” and “no biting” were emphasized when one of the participants was a Faunus or not. Humans could claw and bite too.

Li ignored Ignitia’s growl and gesture. She focused her attention to the referee.

“And … BEGIN!” The referee step aside.

Ignitia growled and grinned. As expected, she didn’t immediately attack Li.

“Think you can win, scaredy cat? You might win when you’re up against men, perhaps, since they are distracted by your body, huh?”

A year ago, the trick would work and Li would be upset or hesitated. Now, it was different. Nothing could waver Li whenever she was in her “armed and ready” state (not always “armed”, though). Li’s mentor in Haven Academy and one of her mother’s friends trained Li really hard for this.

And, Anya had told Li to leave the “taunt and insult business” for her. Whatever that meant--

“You know what most people think about your body, Miss Ignitia? They are confused why you have asses as your chin and breast.”

Oh my God.

Anya’s voice was loud enough to be heard by everyone in the arena. The crowd went quiet, either they were shocked or afraid that Anya had crossed the line too far.

Li noticed how Ignitia’s expression had changed. She would punch Anya to pulp. Definitely.

“Just ….” Li felt really bad for Ignitia. “Just don’t listen to her ….”

“Need a younger kid to tell you to calm down, champion?” Anya laughed. “How adorable.”

Now Li really wondered how could Mei who was well-planned, well-prepared, well-organized, and well-mannered work together with Anya? Just … how?

“I … I think you should ignore her …,” Li said again. Anya, please don’t say anything.

Anya did not say anything.

Ignitia, however, was already furious and triggered.

“SHUT! UP!”

Li blocked the incoming punch with both arms. That punch was even harder than before. Li stepped back. She blocked the second punch and moved closer to Ignitia to push her back.

Ignitia was heavy. Li didn’t apply enough power to push her. Her defense opened for a split second and Ignitia used it to land a clear hit on Li’s ribs.

The crowd cheered. Ignitia pushed forward. Li parried Ignitia’s left hook and countered with a quick jab. Ignitia didn’t back down. She retaliated with another blow.

Li strafed to her left. Ignitia missed. Seeing a chance, Li leapt forward. She landed another hit, this time on Ignitia’s jaw.

Someone from the crowd shouted. Li didn’t hear it clearly, but it was for her. Something about “get serious”.

Li could get even more serious than this, but Anya told her not to wrap up the fight too soon.

Ignitia surprised Li with her change of target.

Instead of trying to hit Li’s head, Ignitia aimed for her ribs and waist. Li maneuvered around the small arena, so far didn’t get hit. She had to refrain herself from countering with a kick. Kicking wasn’t allowed.

Li stole a glance at Anya. Not yet. A bit longer.

“Oof!”

The crowd broke into another cheers. Li stumbled onto one of the hay bales. That last punch hit her stomach. Clear and hard. Li coughed and winced.

“Hey, you okay?” That was Anya asking.

Li nodded.

“Finish her off if you don’t think you can hold any longer.”

“I’m okay. Really.”

Arslan Atlan, Li’s mentor in Haven Academy had hit her harder than this. Li had been through quite some fights and each of them made her both tougher and stronger.

Ignitia wasn’t close enough to any fights against Beringels. Maybe if Li played around before defeating the gorilla Grimms, it would be close enough.

Filled to the brim with confidence, Ignitia’s attack became more intense. She kept closing her distance and barraged Li with punches. If Li’s guess was right, Ignitia tried to wear Li down and knock her out with a finishing blow.

Li put some distance with Ignitia again.

“Take a break, kid?” Ignitia panted. “Well, you deserve it for enduring the fight for this long.”

Li looked at Anya. The pink-haired girl shrugged and snapped her fingers.

That was the signal.

Li put her stance again and walked closer to Ignitia. The woman noticed the change of pace and braced herself.

It was a few milliseconds late. Apparently, Ignitia was the one who wore herself down and lowered her guard.

Once Li got Ignitia in her range, she launched her punch. Unlike her previous attacks, Li put more strength in this one. Her fist landed on Ignitia’s lower jaw. It wasn’t a bone-shattering one like Li did on the Grimms, but it had enough power to incapacitate Ignitia. The woman’s body tumbled and collapsed on a hay bale.

The underground arena went silent. The referee rushed to check on Ignitia’s condition. She started counting to ten and Ignitia stayed still, not moving beside breathing.

Li wasn’t too focused when the referee announced her as the winner. Instead of cheers, she heard polite claps from the spectators.

Anya winked when Li looked at her. And there, she put her “foxy grin” again.

***

“Let’s go somewhere before we return to Patch. You like fish and seafood, right?”

Li and Anya had left the Industrial District and arrived safely at the friendlier Commercial District. It was around two o’clock in the afternoon. Li usually had her lunch around twelve or one, but she wasn’t too hungry after that … “workout” in Amazon’s Den.

“Any kind of seafood.” Li nodded. “Fish included.”

“How about having ‘sushi date’? The two of us.” Anya chuckled. “My treat. Let’s celebrate your first win in the underground arena.”

“Sushi is … expensive.”

“Well ….” Anya took her wallet and showed it to Li. There were a lot of Lien cards. “Betting all of my money on you was the best decision.”

“You—what?” Li gaped. “You—sorry—what?”

“They think it’s fun to open a bet on your fight against Ignitia.” Anya shrugged. “Your odds was high and I’m confident you’re going to win, so, of course, I put all my money on you.”

Li had totally no idea what to say. Too many wrong things happened. “Wrong” in Li’s judgement, at least. First, the fight and second, the betting.

However, the “sushi date” was a good thing. Li had been curious about sushi restaurant. She could find affordable packaged sushi in store, but most of them used processed fish meat. There were a lot of sushi restaurants in Mistral, since the food came from that region, but Li hadn’t had any chance to visit any. Besides, she was the only one who were fond of sushi in the team.

Apparently, eating sushi was new for Anya. It was amusing to watch her try to figure out things when Li knew everything about sushi thanks to her grandma.

“Your hand trembles.” Li couldn’t help not smirking at the scene.

“Oh, shut up. I don’t need your comment.” Anya tried to pick sushi with chopsticks for the third time. “I’m doing my best here.”

“Eating sushi with chopsticks isn’t an obligation.” Li took another plate from the conveyor belt in front of her.

“It isn’t?”

“Using your hand is perfectly acceptable.”

“But the sauce?”

“You just need to dip them, not drown them. Granma said so.”

Anya’s sushi slipped miserably into her sauce plate. Li couldn’t hold her laugh any longer.

“Here.” Li borrowed Anya’s chopsticks. She salvaged most of the drowned sushi to empty plate. “You shouldn’t dip the rice side, by the way. When soaked with the sauce, the rice will fall apart.”

“So, instead … how should I do it?”

It didn’t take too much time for Li to teach Anya the basics of eating sushi properly. It was quite fun too, teaching people. No wonder Li’s grandma taught her a lot of things from Mistral culture, from table manners to cloth pattern symbolism.

“Mei made the same mistakes like you, by the way.” Li poured more sauce in her plate.

“Really? I thought she knew all kinds of table manners from all around Remnant.”

“She doesn’t know as much as I do about Mistral.”

“That’s a surprise.”

Li nodded. “And … I was wondering when we were at the bar, about how could you get along with Mei. Both of you are too different.”

“Most of the time, I make sure I know what she thinks and she knows whatever I think.” Anya chuckled. “Mei scolded me a lot too, you know. For being too reckless or too chaotic.”

“I think you’re getting along because both of you like to learn new things,” Li said.

Anya sipped her cold tea. “Hmm … now that you mention it. Maybe? We both have our own need to know as many things as possible.” Anya gently poked her sushi. “Though, we’re on an entirely different level. Like, Mei is the tuna sushi and I’m the egg sushi.”

Li took the egg sushi passed in front of her. “Have you tried the egg one?”

“You said they are for the last.”

“Yeah, but try it.”

Anya almost picked the sushi using chopsticks again, but then she remembered and picked it with her hand. She looked surprised after the first bite.

“It isn’t like any fried egg,” Anya said.

“Better than fried egg,” Li emphasized.

“Yeah ….” Anya took another bite. “It’s really soft and sweet.”

“Do you know it’s layered? Look.”

“Oh! It is! I didn’t notice!”

“Maybe you’re right to compare yourself with sushi. Both Mei and you have different … complexities? Different background, different purposes. But both are good in their own way, I think.”

“I never thought of it that way.” Anya nodded and ate another sushi. “That’s a good point.”

Li paused. She never had this kind of conversation with her mother, Yang, her teammates, her grandparents, or Mei. This was the first time. And even though it was unusual to use food as a way to put ideas and thoughts, it worked. Li kinda liked this conversation. It let her discover things without punching or being punched.

“Aah, now I know why Mei complained about you growing up.” Anya suddenly laughed.

“She isn’t taller than me anymore,” Li sighed. “Even with her shoes on, I’m still taller than her.”

“It’s not just your height. You’re stronger, more confident, and the way you stepped between me and Ignitia back then is something the small Li won’t do.”

“Well … things happened. I guess.” Li’s cat ears flattened on her head. “Mei doesn’t like it.”

“She will have to accept it eventually.” Anya took another squid sushi.

“Anya, do you know squid has high cholesterol amount?”

“I … I don’t.”

“No, don’t put it back on the belt.” Li took the plate from Anya’s hand. “I’ll have one. Don’t take another squid.”

“Thanks.” Anya grinned. “See? You’ve grown up. I think seeing you grown up is too shocking for Mei. Someone she usually protects has become someone who can protect her. It’s not just about the height difference.”

“Really?” Li was relieved to hear that.

“That’s what I thought. If that’s not the case, let me convince Mei to believe that way.”

“There’s no way you can do that.”

“Who knows?” Anya grinned and took out her Scroll. “I’m in the mood to tease her now. Do you think she’ll make a fuss if I send her our pic together?”

“She will.” Li smiled.

“Great. Let’s do it.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #anya lyre #li belladonna #rwby oc #rwby au

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thisheartofminex · 5 years

Text

adrenaline rush : one

She makes it all of five steps before there’s a hand gently clasping around her right wrist. Instinct has Phe pulling away from the owner of the rather large hand, it fits around her wrist too easily. Her head turns so quickly she’s not sure that she didn’t whip them with her hair.

When she sees it’s Harry, her heart rate doesn’t go down but instead continues to pump at a mile a minute.

“Yes?” Phe asks, trying to sound like she wasn’t spooked by him at all. Hates giving off any other impression that she was cool, calm, and collected.

“What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.”

“Which historical region of Greece includes the capital, Athens?”

Phe’s not really paying attention to the pub quiz as much as she normally would have, considering she enjoyed it when her friends made comments about how bright she was (although they were said in a teasing matter it stroked her ego nevertheless). But tonight, she wasn’t feeling like her usual self. The Shamrock wasn’t a pub that she would choose to frequent in her spare time, especially because she knew that it was her brothers' friends and associates local. Phe was under no influence of the type of people that flocked to her brother like a child to a sweet shop, and it was made clear to her a long time ago that she was to keep those people at an arm's length.

So, to say she was a little on the edge tonight would be accurate. She’d only come because there was a promise of leaving right after the quiz but where they’d go after would depend on if they won or not. Before she left, they’d all go to Adam’s after whatever house party they’d been at and carry on with their night there. But Adam’s parents had sold their house and moved to Wales seven months ago and quite frankly nobody else’s place, or parent's, could even compare.

“G’wan Phe, you should know this one.”

Zayn gives her a nudge to her arm, softly encouraging her to participate. One glance at his face and she knows exactly what he’s thinking. He can see she’s not being her normal self and he knows that she didn’t want to come here. He’s the one who promised they’d shoot off after the quiz, with a promise of getting a McFlurry after.

“What’s the question?” She chirps at Natalie, moving to place her elbows on the table across from Adam’s. Her mother’s mantra of ‘elbows of the table’ echo’s through her head briefly but she ignores it, focusing on answering Natalie’s question as Adam rolls his eyes at her. It was typically the three of them that banded together and won quiz night, since if one of them missing and the success rate dropped significantly, no matter who else was there. The others like to tease them about it, but they laughed it off and drank the winning booze.

Taking a swig of her drink, she makes eye contact with Lauren, who gestures in the direction of the door leading upstairs. Phe knows exactly what she’s getting at and nods, making sure to leave her jacket on the chair next to Zayn, in hopes of nobody trying to steal her spot.

On their way back down from the toilet, they bump into a friend of Ronan’s, Kieran, who coincidentally happened to be leaving the toilets the same time as them and takes it upon himself to come sit with their circle of friends. He’s telling them about some sort of low-key boxing match that’s happening in town tonight, in a couple hours to be precise.

“Is Ronan here?” She asks, looking in the direction Kieran came from. He’s holding a fresh pint in his hand, with it almost spilling over the edge. Phe makes sure not to be in range of it as she starts walking back to the table.

“No, he’s already at the fight with Jimmy and Fat Boy. We’re gonna go meet up with them in ‘bout half hour though.”

“Meet who?” Zayn asks as the girls take their places from before and Kieran pulls a chair up for himself. He starts telling Zayn about the local match, telling him that it’s so and so’s cousin up against somebody else’s nephew. Adam starts to join in the conversation, all three of them discussing it amongst them whilst Phe, Natalie, and Lauren work on the last three quiz questions.

When the boys go outside for a smoke it’s announced that cheez is the winning team, with a total of twenty correct answers out of thirty. The group win a free bottle of wine and Lauren’s the one who goes to the bar to collect it with their sheet of answers. Natalie and Phe are discussing if it’d even worth sharing the prize or if one of them should take it home, since they did most of the work, as per usual.

It’s Kieran’s loud voice that startles them out of their conversation as he announces that they’re all going to see this boxing match. Phe just looks to Zayn to gauge his reaction but instead of dismissing it and reassuring her with one look, she’s moderately surprised when he comes to the defense of the man besides him.

“Why not? Pretty dead here, might as well.”

That’s unlike Zayn, Phe thinks. The Zayn she knows would go grab a six-piece chicken nugget meal from McDonald’s before going home and smoking a spliff in bed. Zayn didn’t do clubbing, although he had been quite a few times between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one, when Phe wasn’t even legally allowed to drink, let alone drive. Since then he’d got into a routine of going to work, coming home with the occasional pub visit here and there. On an especially exciting week, he’d join Phe and Natalie for lunch on a Tuesday. Maybe even see his other friends on the weekend.

Lauren comes back from the bar, carrying their prize in both hands proudly before she’s asked if she’d wish to go and see this fight. With her agreement, it seems settled that the five of them are now joining her brothers' friends in their abnormal Wednesday night. Typical of Ronan and his friends to be doing reckless things without much thought put behind it. Phe wasn’t one to shy away from most things but even she had to question that it was a little shady that some unofficial boxing match was taking place in the middle of the week.

Before she knows it, they’re being joined by two men she recognizes from her elder brothers' school friends and they’re being squished into a mini bus. With her and Lauren being the smallest, the candy floss pink head of hers ends up practically sitting in an Adam’s lap and Phe’s able to squish between them and Zayn.

They arrive at some shifty looking warehouse type after being in the van roughly twenty-five minutes, since the roads were rather clear. Phe has a rough idea of where she is but isn’t too sure, makes a point of finding Ronan and sticking to his side for the remainder of the night (unless he was with a girl – then she’d keep her distance enough, since last time she saw Ronan out with a girl he ended up snapping at her for being there, as if she were some stupid teenager). Hopefully they’d make it home early enough not to wake their parents.

It must have been getting on a bit when they turned up, since the place seemed to be harboring more people than she expected. Phe notices a very distinct vibe immediately, with the air smelling of cheap beer and sweaty bodies. Clearly the spectators had been here quite some time before they showed up, for the floor was sticky enough to indicate they had been. So, when Natalie says she’s getting a call from her boyfriend (he lived a good forty-five-minute drive on a good day), Phe says she’ll join her outside.

“Don’t be long you two, it’s ‘bout to be startin’ soon, yeah?” Kieran tells the pair enthusiastically, with a smile and a wink from Zayn as they promise so come find them in ten minutes give or take.

“Not want anything from the bar?” Nat asks her, to which Phe tells her that she’s not really feeling that shit booze vibe tonight. The girls laugh in agreement, standing to the left of the double doors outside. As her friend lifts the phone to her ear, Phe makes herself busy by pulling out a cig and lighting it up. She doesn’t want to eavesdrop on their conversation so stands with her back leant against the brick wall, not looking in Nat’s direction in hopes of giving her some privacy.

There’s a small group stood just a few feet away from the pair, consisting of three guys and two blonde girls. The girls seem to be pretty cozied up with the men they’re stood closest to, both leaning towards them as a source of heat presumably, by the way they're dressed. Phe can understand, it’d been almost twenty-five degree’s today, so a dress was an obvious choice. Although, everyone seems to forget that once the sun gets down it’s still eligible to reach at least fifteen degrees, so Phe made sure to bring her denim jacket. Since it had so many pockets, it’d also made bringing a bag to quiz night seem pointless.

The third man, unlike the other two, smartly chose to wear a long sleeve CK jumper. He’s stood with his side profile to her, holding a plastic cup full of beer in his right hand, which seems to have a couple of rings on. Phe tries her best not to stare too much in the group's direction, but she can’t help but people watch. They seem to be happy to joke between one another, although she can tell that the two girls are regretting their choice of no jacket. So are the guys, probably damning their t shirts.

Phe hears Natalie say something along the lines of ‘train station’ and she glances over at her friend, who’s stood facing the ugly brick wall that she’s leant against, taking drags of her cigarette lazily. Not five seconds after the phone conversation’s coming to an end.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna spend the night at Aaron’s.” She tells her friend, “the train stations literally just ‘round the corner and he’s gonna pick me up from his station.”

Phe asks again if everything’s alright, to which Nat assures her that it is but she wasn’t really feeling like staying in this dungy warehouse too longer, would rather spend the night at her boyfriend’s. The next train is in ten minutes, so Phe offers to walk her to the station. Natalie’s lucky because the train station was a ten-minute walk down the road and she just makes it on time, giving her friend a hug goodbye and a promise of a text when she was safe.

When she makes it back, she spots Zayn stood outside, chatting with the group outside from a distance. Brown eyes spot her and shout a thanks in their direction before turning his attention towards her, reaching out to grab her arm gently.

“Where you run off to, huh? It’s startin!” He says, gorgeous face frowning softly, “Where’s Nat gone?”

Phe lets him know the situation, as he puts his arm around her shoulders and guides her towards where the rest of their group are sat inside. One glance back behind her and she makes eye contact with the dark-haired man in the jumper. She expects him to divert his eyes, ashamed for being caught staring, but if anything, he does the opposite. Has the nerve to drop his left eye into a wink as he takes a swig from his cup of what she presumes is cider.

Phe doesn’t falter once, just gives him a once over before looking inside, seeing the overhead lights have dimmed significantly. The small crowd, if you could even call it that since there were maximum of fifty people, had turned their attention towards the center where a boxing ring seemed to be conveniently placed.

Her stomach does a summer salt when she see’s this, and when she see’s the two men in the middle. Especially when she clocks on that they both seem to lack the proper fighting equipment for the sport, supporting bare knuckles.

Oh Ronan, she can’t help but think to herself when the first punch is thrown.

There weren’t much these days that she didn’t expect her brother to have some part in. She understood he liked to have his hand in somebody’s pie, whether it was good for him or not. Especially when it came to the drug kind.

But this? This was new, even for him. Glancing over at said elder brother, stood next to his new ‘friend’, she can only hope that this was only a mild fascination for the sport. There was only so much that their parents could handle, too, and she didn’t want them having to worry about him more than they already did.

Phe tries, she really does, but when the second match starts, she can feel her patience running thin. The girl attached to Ronan’s side was getting on her nerves, from the way she was shooting dirty looks in Phe and Lauren’s direction, to the way she kept batting her real mink eyelash extensions up at her brother. She’d sobered up a while ago, whilst they were in the cab over since she’d only had a couple of drinks at The Shamrock, so the house music overhead was only jumbling her thoughts up.

She makes sure to let Lauren know that she’s just going to the toilet, shooting a wink up at Zayn as he looks at her brush past him. She knows him like the back of her hand and could speak to one another with just a look. Natalie was also like that, she’d known her for almost as long as she knew Zayn, since he was originally her brothers' friend first.

In the toilets, it’s not so loud and allows Phe a moment to herself to think. She thinks about work tomorrow and how thankful she was that she had a later start. Even goes as far to check the time, 10:18, and calculate how much longer they’d be here and how many hours of sleep she’d be able to get.

Taking the time to wipe her hands dry, she throws the paper towels into the nearby bin before giving her auburn locks a quick smooth down. When she makes her way back to her friends and brother, it’s clear that it’s some sort of half time, probably to give the crowd time to go buy more drinks. Phe’s blue eyes land on the broad back stood talking to not only Zayn, but Ronan and his friends too. Lauren doesn’t seem to be particularly listening, from the way she’s stood, but the men seems to be very interested in what he’s saying.

“Phe-” Zayn starts as his hazel eyes lock with hers, Lauren perking up also, “stayin’ at mine tonight, yeah?” He puts his arm around her shoulders, guiding her to stand facing Lauren, not the strange man.

But she gets a glance up at him, and recognizes him from the guy outside in the CK jumper. Pink lips are parted as he seems to be saying something to Ronan, too quiet for her to hear even though she’s less than three feet away. Sure, the spectators around them had quieted down since there wasn’t currently two guys trying to kill each other in the ring, but they were making enough noise for her have to strain just to her the two people closest to her.

“Who’s that?” Instead of acknowledging Zayn’s question, or Lauren’s unsure look, she makes sure to not stare too hard and just does a small nod in the man's direction to indicate who’s she’s asking about.

“Harry, a mate of Ronan’s.” He whispers back, removing his arm from her small frame before repeating his previous question.

She just nods, sneaking a glance towards Harry again, only for his eyes to wander down to her. A small smirk appears on his lips as jade green eyes look her up and down, body turning ever so slightly in her direction. Phe thinks he’s about to say something but his attention is taken away by a familiar blond from before. Said blond whispers something in Harry’s ear, who just nods and utters a ‘see you later’ to the men stood around him, dares to throw a wink in Phe’s direction, then makes his way towards where she assumes the fighters are waiting.

For a moment she’s a little thrown off by the handsome stranger, from his brown curls seeming to be effortless styled off of his face, to the air of confidence that he gave off. Not to mention the wink? Some part of her is saying that they’ve met before, but they can’t have even as much as glanced at each other, otherwise she’d remember.

Phe could tell he was the type of man that you can’t forget about, wouldn’t let you forget about. From the peeks of tattoos at his collarbones she could tell that he was the type who could ruin a girl's life without a second thought.

It was almost as if that wink was some sort of promise.

***

After the last fight ended, everyone was quick to leave and continue their night somewhere else. Nobody seemed too keen on sticking around since the bar wasn’t open for much longer after the bell rang and the winner’s name was called out. So, since Lauren had to use the toilet, herself and Zayn chose to wait inside for her instead of risk being bulldozed over, whilst the rest made their way outside for a smoke.

They’d open the all two fire escape doors, which helped a little, but also not really. By the time Lauren comes out, pink hair visible from a mile away, it’s cleared out enough to Phe’s liking.

The three of them step outside, Phe wanting to say a goodnight to her brother before they all head off to Zayn’s for the night. Lauren’s folks are out of town this week, seeing some relative’s, so she’s crashing along with Phe. They’d most likely end up sharing Zayn’s bed together, with him either on the sofa or in bed with his roommate, Niall, depending on if he was home and what mood he was in. The Irishman had declined coming along tonight because he wasn’t feeling too ill and didn’t want to make himself any worse.

Lauren spotted Ronan first, pointing him out to Phe. He was stood with the girl from earlier, thinks her names Ava but doesn’t remember being formally introduced to her, who’s stood as if they were joined at the hip. Kieran’s talking to him, cigarette in hand matching her brother’s, whilst the girl just leans against him like a human post.

Phe manages to say goodbye and goodnight to her brother whilst ignoring his ‘friend’ completely. Even goes as far to say a bye to Kieran, before she’s making her way over to where Zayn and Lauren are stood waiting besides an uber that just pulled up.

When she sees it’s Harry, her heartrate doesn’t go down but instead continues to pump at a mile a minute.

“Yes?” Phe asks, trying to sound like she wasn’t spooked by him at all. Hates giving off any other impression that she was cool, calm, and collected.

“What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.” Very aware of his hand still holding her arm, she glances down at where they’re connected. Green eyes follow and let go, making sure to brush her fingers as they do. Phe expects him to backdown at her brashness but he just smiles.

“Your Thorns sister, ain’t you?” He doesn’t move, continues to stand in her circle of space without a care in the world. Even places his hands in the front pocket of his jeans, which are jet black and have holes in at the knees, like her own.

“Whatever gave it away.” She says dryly, dark brows raising slightly as she takes a glance in her brothers' direction.

Although he chose to keep his hair cropped short, you could still tell that he was a natural ginger, albeit a darker shade than her own. The freckles on his nose gave it away, too. Ronan had been the lucky one who was blessed with a light dusting of them paired with the ability to tan nicely. Whereas Phe had been cursed to be fair skinned forever, with the absence of any prominent freckles.

“I’m Harry.” He holds his hand out between them this time, letting Phe get a good look at the Rolex on his wrist. Her father always said that watches weren’t for telling the time, but simply just for show.

“Phe.”

“Phe.” He repeats, almost satisfyingly, like a child finally getting the answer they’d been dying to know. Since she’d barely placed her hand in his, she’d expected his hand not to engulf her hand so easily. A quick glance down at their still connected hands and Harry starts to let go, making sure his fingers brush the length of hers.

“You’re slipping through my fingers.”

At first, she doesn’t realise that he’s making a joke, albeit a rather poor one, and can just about manage a blink in his direction through her confusion. It’s only when he sends her another wink paired with a little wave of his fingers as he walks off does it click in her head.

With an eye roll and a sigh she makes her way over to her friends.

#1dff #1dff au #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #au #thisheartofminex #gang au #dark #ar #one direction fanfic #one direction fanfiction #one direction imagine #harry styles au

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lovehotelreservation · 5 years

Text

My Dirty Little Shame - The Disgrace and The Incompetent [2/?]

Summary: A Stand User. A villain.

No matter how you were classified as, in the eyes of Abbacchio and Aizawa, you were someone in dire need of discipline by their hand.

And after all that had transpired between you and the two of them, your punishment couldn’t come sooner enough.

Rating: PG-13 [Rating will go up]

Pairing: Abbacchio/Reader/Aizawa

[Next Chapter]

YEEHAW EVERYONE I HAVE RETURNED WITH A NEW UPDATE!!!

Thanks so much to everyone who expressed their interest in the first chapter of this new piece! With Part 5's anime having ended already while BNHA's new season begins tomorrow!!! I wanted to return to this fic, as there's still much I wanted to share with this work! Especially LEWDZ

Anyway, as always, I hope you enjoy!

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Just where the hell was Narancia?

Scowling, Abbacchio reached up to adjust the police cap atop his head. Though he wasn't wearing his usual eccentrically revealing gothic robes, he was still sweltering within Tokyo's humid summer in the police uniform that he was currently wearing. With his black lipstick scrubbed off and his silken, ivory locks tied up in a bun, he was much more presentable--and unrecognizable--in appearance.

It had been a busy week.

Abbacchio had much on his mind, going from caring little about the upcoming Summer Olympics--save for the bit of country pride that would arise if Italy won gold--to jetting off on the next flight to Tokyo as soon as he was given approval.

Namely on how he planned on devastating you the moment he managed to track you down.

Though, he still had to be considerate of why he was allowed to go on what was essentially a revenge trip in the first place.

This office was just so damn golden.

And floral.

And Moschino.

"While Abbacchio had come to see Giorno as a close friend, a trusted ally, and a respected don, there was something so gaudy and tryhard about the young boss's office space that made him want to start smoking and use the coffee table bonsai tree as an ashtray. And, indeed, he was doing just that, a lit cigarette perched between his fingers.

Though, with Giorno sitting at his desk just before the royal blue velvet sofa that Abbacchio was lounging upon, he was at least respectful enough to tap the ashes onto the designated tray.

"--While I'm well aware of where Passione must stand in terms of global affairs, Mr. Polnareff has been a great friend and ally, and I feel that assisting the Speedwagon Foundation would be in our best interest," Giorno remarked, his chin resting upon his steepled fingers, all while his eyes trailed over the array of documents currently displayed on his desk. He reached down to sift through the file dedicated to Koori and the recent attack on the Olympic village, retrieving a picture of the ice skater to show to Abbacchio, his eyes narrowing with resolve.

"After all, we need to make sure Ghiaccio gets captured at last so we can stop La Squadra from spreading out their influence abroad."

Reclined fully back against the sofa, Abbacchio allowed for a haze of grey smoke to escape his lips. "...I'm well aware." His position was familiar, reminiscent of those warm, idyllic afternoons spent with you. Your head on his lap, affectionate eyes staring sweetly up at him while your fingers teasingly trailed along his chest.

Up until he had enough, seizing your wrist before splaying you upon the couch and smothering your lips with smokey kisses.

His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, knowing that if he were to even glance at the photo, he was going to destroy something. While Ghiaccio was always an especially irritating sight that caused sore eyes, Abbacchio's fury came from the connection that the two of you had together.

How your arms wrapped so snuggly around Ghiaccio's neck, one of your eyes fluttering shut in a wink before you disappeared from his life.

Seeing Abbacchio's averted stare, Giorno closed his eyes, a light chuckle escaping him as he slipped the photo back to its file. "Of course." His attention shifted over to another file, one which bore the seal of Japan's Hero Public Safety Commission. "...Still, to better our chances, the Speedwagon Foundation is requesting that we join together with the Heroes Association during the Olympics--"

Abbacchio glanced down.

Giorno's bonsai tree really was looking deficient in cigarette ashes.

Following his gaze and how his hands took hold of his cigarette, Giorno only proceeded to sigh, "I understand that it's already requesting much of you to assist with international affairs, Abbacchio. However, from what I could see, while Narancia will surely be needed, only you and Eraserhead will find the greatest success together since the two of you had similar encounters--"

Abrupt and unceremonious, Abbacchio was suddenly on his feet. His hand lowered, flicking ash to its designated tray. A respectful manner in contrast to the glare in his eyes--still less volatile than from when he saw Giorno as a hapless new recruit instead of the reliable don that he was today.

"Tch--I don't need anyone's help. I've got no reason to work with a so-called Hero who couldn't even do his job right," Abbacchio nearly spat out just before he turned to make his leave, his eyes facing forward to the future he was willing to claw his way towards.

The future he saw was you bound in chains, whether in an Italian prison cell, or locked away in his bedroom.

And though Giorno expected more or less for this mission debriefing to end as it did, he still couldn't help but smile as Abbacchio added,

"Revenge will see me through."

However, while Abbacchio's vengeance could match that of the sun, his eyes couldn't withstand the intense brightness of summer. Reaching for the front of his uniform, he retrieved the rather unfortunate pair of non-Gucci shades that had been provided by the Speedwagon Foundation for his disguise, slipping them on with displeasure.

He peered around the crowd of excited spectators in hopes of catching a glimpse of Narancia. However, in this age of Quirks, to find a scrawny Italian 20-something dressed in an orange Supreme hoodie and a purple Moschino skort proved to be annoyingly difficult.

While Abbacchio was to patrol around the arena for when Ghiaccio would take the Olympic stage, Narancia was supposed to be doing recon around the premises, seeking out all possible escape routes that the gangster-turned-athlete could utilize. It took a great deal of either courage, stupidity, or courageous stupidity for Ghiaccio to have even resurfaced in the public eye to such a degree.

Though, as Abbacchio could reason, by what he was aware of La Squadra, he wouldn't have been surprised if this was in relation to whatever business relationship that was struck up with the yakuza in exchange for hosting him in Japan.

That and pride.

So much.

Goddamn.

Pride.

Contemplating as to why Ghiaccio made his return--along with, more importantly, why you showed yourself once again--Abbacchio prepared to do another patrol around the arena's premises.

Up until he caught a glimpse of a young man running by the stands, his Supreme fanny pack--worn diagonally across his chest--bounced slightly against his front with each hurried step.

With the flash of orange and purple, Abbacchio snorted under his breath.

There was only one person that scrawny who could dress that ugly.

Still, there had to be some reason that Narancia was too busy running about to report back. With that in mind, Abbacchio proceeded to trail after him, right as a Bakugou Katsuki was introduced to the crowd.

While Abbacchio made his way past stands of a different nature from what he was used to, a lone Aizawa was in one of the overseeing VIP rooms, staring out towards the grand obstacle course below where athletes would demonstrate the power of their Quirks. His eyes shifted over to the clock that was hanging on the wall towards his right, his eyebrows furrowing as he let out a displeased hum.

Just where the hell was Midoriya?

With the Olympics set to begin soon, Midoriya should have returned from his run-through of the entire Coliseum space. Having completed his studies and graduated from UA High, he had finally set out to accomplish his dreams of being a professional hero.

While balancing on top of his own participation in the Olympic games, he was tasked with assisting his former teacher, as per the request of Toshinori. Given the international connections regarding this mission, he near pleaded to be able to help out and broaden the scope of his experience.

Though Midoriya looked to be all too eager to take on his new role, Aizawa could only look towards this mission with burning vengeance and bitter longing.

A sight that he could only and truly gaze at by the work of his upgraded goggles.

This office was just too damn bright.

Calmly sitting at one of the many chairs by a conference table, Aizawa was tempted to already slip on the modified pair of goggles that were laid across the sleek oak surface.

A specially designed pair from the Speedwagon Foundation, the international organization that dealt with a certain subset of people who had Quirk-like abilities.

They weren't Heroes by any means.

Rather, as the Speedwagon Foundation referred to them, they were Stand users.

Truly the one crucial point that separated Quirk from Stand was that the former could be seen by all while the latter was only able to be seen by those who also possessed the same power

At least for the most part.

After all, with the goggles that the Speedwagon Foundation had prepared just for him, he would now be able to see any Stand, no matter the user.

And now Aizawa--a Pro Hero who dealt with countless villains--was standing in one of the offices at the Speedwagon Foundation's temporary headquarters: a grand naval vessel that was docked off the coast of Morioh.

The task of hunting down not one but two Stand users was now officially on his shoulders, at the request of the two individuals sitting across from him.

To the left was a familiar face: lead detective for the Ghiaccio/Koori case and representative for both the police force and the Olympic Committee, Naomasa.

On the right was a stranger with a near unsettlingly familiar voice: a fortune teller and one of the top agents for the Speedwagon Foundation, Mohammed Avdol. A man of Egyptian descent, he carried himself ever so calm and reserved with the occasional hearty chuckle. Though, his outfit was bold with vibrant red cotton robes and big, ornate golden jewelry adorning his body. If Aizawa were to so much as close his eyes whenever Avdol spoke, he would have most certainly believed that a calm but prideful Toshinori was in the room.

While not surprising, somehow the world's Number One Hero was involved in this whole ordeal, as well. And despite his logical dismissals, he still felt the beginnings of sparks of vengeance and the pangs of jealousy, the thought of you looking towards a close friend with the same desire you once showed to him.

"--thus, after reviewing the footage from All Might's agency, we have concluded that it is without doubt that Trouble Maker was seen on the premises, posing as part of the cleaning staff," Naomasa noted while presenting security camera stills. "However, considering her insistence on gaining access to Toshi's office, suspicion obviously arose, but she disappeared before she could be confronted."

Sure enough, disguise and all, you could be seen going about your 'duties'. While Aizawa was irritated thinking over what your intentions were, he was even more annoyed--albeit at himself--over how cute you looked in your work uniform.

Trouble Maker.

Apparently that was a familiar name amongst the yakuza, of a tempting siren who was not to be trifled with.

A simple but fitting title for you, even if earlier recollections of the time spent together were much more tender and sweet.

Perhaps now he would finally know just what caused that betrayal which had him scouring for revenge.

"For this to happen just mere weeks before the incident at the Olympic village..." Avdol trailed off, his eyes--once closed with contemplation--opening while his arms remained folded over his chest. "...I'm certain that whatever scheme is going on will most certainly involve Ghiaccio's appearance at the Olympics, whether by sabotage in favor of the yakuza or fleeing the country."

Aizawa reached for the goggles on the table, already rising from his seat. "Regardless, their intentions don't matter. I'll see to it that they are apprehended and brought to justice."

While Naomasa looked to be a bit flabbergasted at how fiercely determined Aizawa was, Avdol held a hand up, motioning for him to sit back down. "It is a relief to see that your resolve lives up to your reputation, Aizawa. However, while I trust you fully to take on this task, facing off against a Stand user is still much too different than facing against a villain."

"Believe me, I have experience with facing against Stands."

There was venom on Aizawa's tongue, a taste made even more bitter when a memory of your cheerful smile crossed his mind. One that was offered to him while he was struggling to so much as sit up from the concrete ground, just moments before you made your escape in the back of a van, the sight of you drawing Ghiaccio close to your chest before the backdoor shut.

Though Avdol's expression looked to be more sympathetic, he remained firm, all while his hand rested over a file that was dated nearly 7 years ago, of which was noted with a simple but resounding 'Mission Failed'. "We would still prefer you partner up with a Stand user, Aizawa, especially since one is on this mission as well." With a nod, he urged, "You should work alongside him. Though he does align himself with Passione, he is to be trusted and his experience would--"

"To work with the Italian mafia?" Aizawa interjected, his eyes narrowing while his tone struggled to remain neutral. "Pardon for what I must ask, Mr. Avdol, but are you out of your mind?" He near slammed his hand against his chest as he went on, lips curling into a snarl as emotions of both heated vengeance and a lingering heartache quickly resurfaced, "The responsibility for this matter falls onto me, and I will make sure this nuisance finally comes to an end with that woman in handcuffs."

Alarmed, Naomasa quickly turned towards Avdol, preparing to apologize for Aizawa's outburst. However, the Speedwagon Foundation representative looked to be calm, his eyes closing before pleasantly remarking, "I see this side to your reputation rings true as well."

Before Aizawa could get another word out, Naomasa immediately stepped in, his hands up in a gesture to calm down, "I understand that this mission has personal context for you, Aizawa. However, the success of this mission is of absolute importance." His expression becoming concerned, he added, "While it is imperative that Koori gets apprehended and whatever yakuza connections he has are revealed, Trouble Maker is a wholly different matter, especially if All Might gets involved."

While still tense, the more rational side of Aizawa struggled to reign him back in, that there was no place for his emotions during a mission debriefing of all things. “I agree that we should investigate further into why she took post at his office. However, I don't--" Recalling how perfectly you fit into his arms while he whisked you away to the bedroom came to mind. "--see how a Stand-- how a Quirk like hers would be that effective against him."

Naomasa quickly sifted through another folder, drawing out a summary report with a compilation of security camera stills at the bottom. Skimming over the details, he remarked, "It was said that during her time at All Might's office, Trouble Maker was asking about more..." Glancing up at Aizawa, he started to look flustered. "...personal questions regarding him. Gossip basically. But from what we know of the volatile and influential power that Trouble Maker's Stand has, if used against All Might then--"

"Shouta! The jig is that the world can't know that All Might fucks!"

Avdol jumped slightly in his seat.

Naomasa covered his face with his hands.

Aizawa readied his scarf.

Closing the door behind him before stepping into the debriefing room--having been out to go use the restroom but was lost after the third winding turn back--a grinning Hizashi proceeded to rub the back of his head while bowing 45 degrees out of respect. "Oh! Sorry! Sorry!"

Cupping his mouth with one hand, he loudly whispered, "The world can't know that All Might fuc--"

The rest of the mission debriefing took much longer than expected.

His expression looking utterly irritated upon recollection, Aizawa reached for his goggles, his grip on them turning into a clench.

At the very least, with Hizashi acting as one of the official Olympic sports commentators, there would always be eyes on Ghiaccio once he took to the field, which was to be soon. He received notice that Ghiaccio was to engage in the Quirk obstacle course, the very same one that he knew Bakugou was to compete in as well.

However, right as he heard the beginnings of the Italian national anthem, Aizawa glanced down towards the stands, only to see a familiar mass of green dashing by.

There was Midoriya.

And he looked to be pursuing something.

Aizawa tensed.

Could it be...?

While logic and rationality would have made him think to contact Midoriya first, emotions had him rushing out of the room in pursuit.

As Midoriya was one to seek after danger to handle it on his own, for him to not report back as ordered spoke volumes.

It wasn't long before Aizawa was rushing out the south gate of the Olympic Coliseum, whereupon he caught up to Midoriya, who had since stopped in his tracks.

At the same time, Abbacchio had just finally gotten hold of Narancia, who also came to a still at the south gate.

Abbacchio grabbed onto his shoulder, "Oi, Narancia--!"

Aizawa seized for the back of Midoriya's collar. "Midoriya, just where have you--?"

Both paused upon hearing an irritatingly familiar inflection.

Abbacchio and Aizawa looked up from their respective partners, soon facing one another, eye to eye.

A disgraced cop who had since fallen to the influence of the mafia.

An incompetent excuse of a hero who had seen better days.

Their eyes narrowed towards one another in a harsh glare.

However, before either could speak up, they heard the delighted cries of,

"Ayy, Signore Midoriya! Any luck on your end?"

"Ahh! Narancia-san! Not yet, but I hope your search has been productive!"

The two greeted one another with a wave.

Alarmed, Abbacchio and Aizawa were quick to utter out a near united, "What?!"

It was then that, at last, Narancia and Midoriya had turned to face their respective superiors.

And all Abbacchio and Aizawa could see was red.

Namely, an achingly familiar shade of rouge that was present on their respective partners' cheeks as a kissmark.

"Ahh Abbacchio! There you are!" Narancia beamed excitedly while his arms folded behind his head, "My bad, but I was helping a pretty tourist who said she was looking for her baby boy!"

"Ai- Ai-Aizawa-sensei!" Midoriya stuttered out in a fluster while quickly wiping the kissmark away. "I'm so sorry! While I was canvassing the area, a distressed woman approached me and said she was looking for her kitten!"

The words that were uttered out struck at the two.

Baby boy.

Kitten.

You were here.

#leone abbacchio #aizawa shouta #jjba #bnha #reader insert #My Dirty Little Shame #Fic #management will return in a queue minutes

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gendrya-gift-exchange · 4 years

Text

Prompts for the Gendrya Gift Exchange have been assigned to creators. The Open Prompt List is now available for the third part of the event.

The prompt list has been updated with some new concepts for you to use to create whatever kind of fanwork you feel like making. Prompts that have been requested for the exchange have been removed to avoid a prompt being filled by more than one creator.

Anyone is welcome to use these ideas, but please credit the Gendrya Gift Exchange for the prompt. We’ll happily share works created around these concepts, just tag @gendrya-gift-exchange so we can reblog them. You’re welcome to post works based on these ideas at any time, you don’t have to wait for the posting period for the event.

Happy Creating!

Short Prompts

Stranded in the middle of nowhere

Attempting to throw a baby shower

Arya teaches Gendry to swim

Arya and Gendry are tricked into going to karaoke against their will

Laser tag: adrenaline, dark corners, and shooting people… but in a fun way!

Arya and Gendry visit a haunted house attraction at a theme park

A series of text conversations about a lost item of clothing

Gendry and Arya are moving in together, but moving day doesn’t go as planned

Gendry and Arya take the kids to visit Uncle Hot Pie

The Stark siblings sit Arya down to ask her whether she and Gendry are really ‘just friends’

Arya gets herself into more trouble than she can handle. She calls Gendry to help.

Dialogue Prompts

“Stop biting. You can’t leave any marks.”

“Why do I let you talk me into these things?”

“Huh. I was sure that would work.”

“I’d really rather have this conversation when we’re both sober.”

“I’ve never seen anything quite as beautiful as when [he/she] broke that guy’s nose.”

“I’m not a thief, I’m just really good at acquiring things that aren’t mine.

“We’re your family and we love you. No matter what.”

“Of course I’m in love with [him/her] but [he/she] can’t know that.”

“No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.”

“Maybe this is what I deserve.”

“There was so much blood.”

“I’m not leaving until I know you’re safe.”

“This war doesn’t end when the fighting stops.”

“I am the son of a king who forgot my name.”

“We only have one chance. Don’t miss.” “I never miss.”

“I’d kill a thousand men before I let them take you from me again.”

Concept Prompts

Cops and Robbers Arya is a thief who steals from the rich and gives to the poor. Gendry is the cop/detective trying to put a stop to her ‘crimes’.

Winterfell Abbey Lord Stark and his family reside at Winterfell Abbey, ancestral home of the Earl of the North. When Gendry arrives to be the new chauffeur, the youngest Stark daughter takes a liking to him, despite their difference in status. (Based on Downton Abbey)

Room at the Inn Gendry is trying to help Arya get home to her family. Along the way they find a small inn they can stay at, but the owners clearly frown upon renting a room to an unwed couple. So, they pretend to be married for the night, and try to put on a convincing display for the innkeepers. (Based on a scene from the movie Leap Year)

Stark Family Circus Gendry has just been hired as a backstage crew member for the Winterfell Circus, owned and run but the Stark family for three generations. The small but feisty tightrope walker gets his attention.

Lifeguard Gendry is a lifeguard at the local pool. Every morning, Arya comes to swim laps before anyone else gets there. Gendry has no one to watch but her.

Con Artists Arya and Gendry make a great team when they’re pulling off a con, but neither of them can be sure if their romance is real, or if they’re being played.

First Date When their eldest daughter is going on her first ever date, Arya and Gendry are reminded of what happened on their own first date, and how they finally ended up together.

Bachelorette Arya Stark comes from a well known family, so her relationships and breakups have always been splashed across the tabloids. She agreed to be the next bachelorette in the hopes of having some control over the publicity about her dating life this time around. She wasn’t expecting to meet a contestant like Gendry.

Fake Death Arya has to fake her death for a while to escape the people who are after her. Her family knows the truth, and they’re worried about how Gendry is handling it, and how he’ll react when he finds out she’s still alive.

Werewolf Gendry has just been bitten by a werewolf, and Arya is tending to his wounds. They both know what this means for him. If they can’t find a cure within a month, he’ll turn at the next full moon.

Spectator Neither Arya nor Gendry are willing to give up control in the bedroom. When they can’t agree on whose turn it is to be in charge, they decide to ask someone else to watch while calling the shots for them.

Unfair Bet Gendry and Arya meet at a party. Arya’s friends bet her she can’t seduce Gendry within a month. Gendry’s friends bet him he can’t hold off sleeping with Arya for a month. Neither of them realise their friends are in on the bets together, pitting them against each other.

Quotes

The king now lies on a bed of stone, without a crown, without a home Caitlin Miller

Death is the only god who comes when you call Roger Zelazny

Have we not lips to kiss with, hearts to love, and eyes to see Oscar Wilde

If they stand behind you, protect them If they stand beside you, respect them If they stand in front of you, watch their back But if they stand against you, show them no mercy Unknown

Got nowhere to be ‘cause the world don’t know where we are Say Love – James TW

We don’t own our heavens now We only own our hell And if you don’t know that by now Then you don’t know me that well Buy the Stars – Marina and the Diamonds

Holiday Prompts

Every year, Arya and Gendry try to embarrass each other by giving inappropriate/suggestive gifts

Arya and Gendry have both been roped in to participating in the local community holiday pageant

Gendry doesn’t have any family to spend the holidays with, so Arya brings him back to Winterfell. Arya’s never brought anyone home, and the Starks aren’t convinced that they’re just friends.

Secret Sansa Sansa organises a Secret Santa exchange for all the Stark siblings and their friends. She decides to rig the draw so that Arya and Gendry pull each other’s names, in the hopes that they might finally realise their feelings for each other. She recruits others to help with her plan.

Southern Holiday Everyone’s taking a trip to Australia (or Sothoryos) for the holidays. Unfortunately they all seem to have forgotten that in that part of the world, the holiday season is in the middle of summer. Some of them find interesting ways to cope with the heat, and some of them… don’t.

#gendrya gift exchange #GGE19 #gendrya #arya x gendry #fic exchange #fan work exchange #fan exchange #fan art #fanfic #gendrya fanfic #gendrya fanart #gendrya art #gendrya fic #gendrya fanfiction

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