#also drawing her fatter/more like my body better ^_^

[kiwiparfait]

the!!

#furry #fursona #my art #i am. slowly drawing her more animal everytime lol. #ALSO ive recently been very into leg warmers and found some cute ones i rlly wanna buy that are like. pastel stripe with star string pulls #so i was like. these are part of yuor design now... #also drawing her fatter/more like my body better ^_^ #somnia tag #oh god tumblr ate the image quality pls click

[iamdunn]

Miraculous Flash Forward part 2: Hei Mao

A Miraculous Fan-fic

Written By

AJ Dunn

Adrien went about his day grocery shopping and stocking his new home with personalized essentials. Something to make it more him and not as much Amelie, bless her heart fro trying. It had been nice having a mother even if it wasn’t his mother. Emelie remained in a coma in London. He had visited her everyday. It felt like he had finally healed from her loss only to have the wound ripped open again. The ache still seeped from his being as a dark shadow hung over him. Not only did he have to hide from the identity his father created for him, but also the bad publicity his father created as well. 

With groceries put away, and Plagg fed, Adrien set about finally unpacking his bags. He could hear the television turn on as Plagg scrolled through channels. News reports still talking about the capture of Hawk Moth even though it’s been two years. A report came on their air and he recognied Feliz’s voice. He hung his shirt and went downstairs to see. 

“I have been given full authority over the former Agreste Brand and we will be revitalizing this brand starting…” he stopped talking to the microphone at the podium to turn around. He was standing in front of the Agrest Building that Gabriel had built. Felix raised his hand as the blind covering the company name was removed and exposed the new name. 

“Graham De Vanily” 

“In honor of our beloved Emelie Graham De Vanily who was so terribly stolen away from us by the heinous villain Hawk Moth.” Felix’s fist clenched near his chest as he closed his eyes for a moment. Adrien was hurt hearing the words but Felix’s scheme was working. The crowd cheered. No one really knew exactly what happened to Adrien’s mother, but making her the face of this company’s new facelift, making her the victim in all of it, took the public's eye off of Adrien and showed the company’s sympathy for the victims rather than the villain. 

Camera flashed as Felix reopened his eyes. Reporters pushing forward with their demanding questions and microphones ready to accept his answers. 

“What about Adrien Agreste?”

“I’m sorry there is no Adrien Agreste.” Felix said sharply. It was what Adrien had asked him to do. 

“Then who was the model Gabriel used?” This was the part that Adrien knew Felix could handle. He watched as Felix threw on his best Adrien smile and scruffed his hair into the shaggy mane that was Adrien’s trade hair style. He was good. Adrien missed the antics of their childhood with his twin of a cousin. Adrien snorted a laugh then shook his head returning to his chores. 

“Is it dinner time yet?” Plagg complained. Adrien returned to the seating area. Plagg was still seated on his favorite armchair with a lump of cheese. It wasn’t Camembert but it seemed to satiate him enough. 

“You're right.” he smiled realizing how quickly the day went by. “Let’s go.” Adrien walked to the front door. Looking back at Plagg wondering why the little guy wasn’t moving. Plagg stared at him stupidly.

“You're not planning on taking the metro again,” Plagg complained. “When we can take the quicker route.”

“It’s still light outside, I can’t risk Cat Noir being seen by the public.” 

“He was seen last night by those guys?” 

“But who is going to believe a bunch of criminals?” Adrien realized he would have to think of something to maintain his own cover of darkness.

“But you're not even Cat Noir anymore.” Plagg reminded him. “Just change the appearance of your suit.”

“Wait,” Adrien walked back into the seating area. “I can do that?” 

“Kind of,” Plagg explained. “You will still be dressed in black, but you could… add a hoodie to cover your sunshine blond hair.” Plagg flew up and looked Adrien over. His tiny hand on his chin. “Maybe you could check out Marinettes’ website for some thoughts.” 

“But when I transform it automatically puts this design on me.” Adrien was confused. 

“It’s too basic,” Plagg complained. “Shadow Moth never wore a dress I can assure you but Mayura did. Polymouse looked nothing like Multimouse, and let’s face it, Luka was a way better holder for Sass than you.” Plagg was still sore about that one. Adrien thought about it. Sure a hoodie would help, but he didn’t want people to know there was A BLACK CAT superhero in Shanghai. 

“I’ll think about it. For now, we take the Metro.” He grabbed his coat and key then opened the door. 

Adrien got off the bus at the same stop as last night and went into the same store. This time he would grab something at random then head to the restaurant. He could smell something amazing coming from the restaurant down the street and it made him think of a seafood dish he had the last time they visited. Adrien found the seafood tanks in the back of the market and picked out 4 hairy crabs. 

“Cheng Sifu, I am here,” Adrien said as he entered the kitchen. He handed the bag with the four live crabs in it to Cheng. His eyes widened in excitement as if he had hoped for this.

“This is a very fortunate fateful food, Adrien.” He dropped the four crabs into the already boiling pot. “I started this broth earlier for another crab dish but these are much fatter and tastier.” Cheng proceeded to show Adrien how to prepare the broth and they worked quickly as the crab's shells turned bright red before they used a wire scoop to lift them from the pot. Cheng strained the broth from the pot setting it aside as they rinsed the crab in ice-cold water so they could deshell them. Cheng flung droplets of water from his fingers as he worked so quickly. Splattering Adrien on the face. Adrien laughed like a little kid seeing the playful grin on Sifu's face. 

“I give you Adrien Soup.” Cheng set a bowl down in front of Adrien. 

“De Vanily Soup.” Adrien corrected him. The steam rolled off the bowl as chunks of crab bobbed in the bowl. The red broth with vegetables floating sent an aroma into Adrien's face. He was proud to be able to know how to make this. Cheng played the accordion as Adrien scooped the soup into his mouth. He lost himself somewhere in the memory as he looked to his side smiling expecting to see Marinette laughing at her uncle. She wasn’t there. The smile drained from Adrien’s face as he looked back at Cheng. 

“We could call her.” Cheng set the accordion down then took a seat across from Adrien. He let his face fall back to his bowl as he continued to eat trying to regain his composure. He felt the burning in his eyes as the tears tried to well up but he swallowed them down with another bite of soup. 

“Best not.” He said then looked at his watch. “You know, the time difference.” He shrugged then lifted his empty bowl. They returned to the kitchen to clean up but the kitchen staff took his bowl and there was nothing more to do. “See you tomorrow Cheng Sifu.” Adrien gave him a quick wave then headed for the alleyway. It was very dark now as clouds were rolling in. Adrien thought about what Plagg had said earlier and imagined what his suit would look like with a hood. 

“Plagg claws out.” He said. Sure enough, as his suit covered his body from toe to head, a leather hood sprouted off the neck covering his head, his cat ears protruded from the top. It came down far enough over his eyes that while he could still see, it would make seeing his face that much harder. It was much different from the suit he wore as Aspik which completely covered his head, this one instead felt more modern and airy. He made his way back to Chao. 

“It will rain tonight, Xuesheng,” Chao said as Mao landed on the ground before him. “We will start with a few small lessons, but you will need to rest your Kwami.” Mao had to take a minute to take in what Chao had said.

“Rest my…” his breath caught in his lungs. “Kwami?” 

“You think me a fool? That I do not know what powers your ability.” Chao turned and headed into a side room of the temple. Mao followed him. There were many drawings on the walls, various characters that depicted magical beings. “Many believe them to be folklore. And to those who are not trained, they are.” Adrien sees a black cat adorned character from an ancient Chinese battle. “Many are taught here and sent to the guardian temple to become guardians. I was one of them.” Chao said.  

“You were a guardian?” Mao asked. 

“I was there when the temple was gobbled up by a sentimonster.” Chao turned to look at him. “It was you, and your partner that defeated it, and restored the temple.” 

Mao was shocked as he stood before his Sifu. Chao turned and walked deeper into the temple down a flight of stone stairs to a large room filled with various weaponry, sparring dummies and in the middle of the room a large sparring mat. Mirror lined the four walls surrounding the mat. The torch-style electric lighting illuminated the room in an orange glow. There was a small table in the corner with a plate of cheese and crackers.

“I assume Plagg still eats human-sized portions of cheese?” Chao asked. Mao chuckled. He was still nervous at the prospect of exposing his identity to anyone but Master Fu. “I assure you, it is safe here.” 

“Claws in.” He whispered. Plagg zipped out. His eyes exposing his shock as he found himself in a strange place. Until his eyes fell on the Sifu.

“Chao Sifu?” Plagg asked in surprise. He flew up to the old man gripping his face in his tiny hands. Chao chuckled at the action, bringing his hands to cup the Kwami.

“You seem… friendly.” Adrien felt a bit jealous as he watched his best friend warm up to a stranger.

“Plagg and I encountered much mischief.” He stared at the Kwami now sitting in his hands. “I was but a child when I went to the temple. I felt caged in. I did not want to be there.” he set Plagg down by the plate then brought his hands back together in front of himself. “Sometimes at night, Plagg and I would escape the temple and bound free through the mountains.” Adrien's jaw dropped as he heard the Sifu talk about his rebellious side. 

“Sounds like someone I know,” Adrien said acting innocent. 

“Cat Noir had plenty of freedom, while Adrien was locked in the best bedroom any teenage boy could want.” Plagg scoffed as he gobbled some cheese. 

“Oh, is that so?” Chao asked. 

“It’s a long story.” Adrien swung his arms in anticipation of his first lesson. 

“We shall start with some basic steps.” Chao led him to the center of the sparring mat after they kicked off their shoes. 

Adrien hurt so bad as he rolled out of bed the next morning. Not sure if he would be able to move. In the bathroom, he stripped out of his pajamas tossing them on the floor. He caught sight of his body in the ever-present mirrors that encircled the room. The main thing he hated about the bathroom. He was his own constant reminder of his father. 

“Hmm…” he mused in the mirror. “At least now I know what father would have looked like after taking a beating.” he chuckled. Plagg droned on something about being awake so early and not having anywhere to go. 

After soaking in the steaming hot jet stream tub Adrien sat on the couch with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He had to lower the eclectic blinds on the windows to prevent possible sighting of the mysterious floating creature even though they were up high enough that it was most likely not a concern. 

He opened his laptop and began searching through design pages looking for ideas for his Hei Mao suit. 

“Nothing,” Adrien said frustrated after a while. 

“What about Marinette. She could design something for you.” Plagg offered. Adrien shook his head, he wanted nothing more than to wear a Marinette design again. 

“I can’t talk to her Plagg.” Adrien groaned. 

“But Felix can, and if I remember right he is the CEO of a fashion company am I right?” Plagg was on to something. He picked up his cell phone and dialed up his cousin.

“Adrien to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” He sounded upset. 

“What is it, Felix?” Adrien’s question could wait. 

“I just got out of a meeting with public relations and they’re screaming for something to boost the community morale.” Adrien smiled. This was purrfect he thought.

“I think I can solve your problem and you can solve mine.” Adrien started. “Initiate a community-wide design competition. The theme is aged-up versions of Ladybug and Cat Noir in more… fitting attire.”

“It’s a competition?” Felix asked. “What would the reward be?” 

“How about the winner gets to spend an entire day or week as a Graham De Vanily designer and their design is featured in the catalog, as say a costume.” Adrien grinned. “I’ll be the final judge, a silent Judge.”

“How,” Felix started, his voice sounding confused. “Does this benefit you?” 

“Remember that girl, Marinette?” Adrien asked him. 

“How could I forget,” Felix remember the beautiful girl from the video sent to Adrien.

“She’s a designer and well, I really want a costume designed by her.” Adrien wasn’t entirely lying. 

“Let me guess, you want the Ladybug costume.” Felix scoffed. 

“Exactly, well one of each. But the winner will be the one who designs the best of each costume, it’s a two for the win.” Adrien’s face beamed and he was glad that Plagg was the only one who could see it. 

“I’ll put the word out,” Felix said coldly before hanging up the phone. 

It had been nearly a month since the announcement for the costume design went out. He watched Marinette’s webpage and even found Alya’s blog. They definitely knew about it and even commented that Marinette would be entering her designs in as well. Adrien was so excited. His body was getting more accustomed to the beatings dished out by Chao Sifu, and his cooking skills got better with Cheng Sifu. During the day he often went past the temple to watch Chao Sifu teaching classes to groups of younger kids. They seemed to be far too young to learn martial arts but he was also forced to participate in far more activities by the time he was their age. 

He spoke a number of different languages and played the piano. Adrien hadn’t touched one since he left his in his old bedroom. Felix said he wanted to move into the Agreste manor but felt uncomfortable with that idea given the current state of the public opinion regarding it. So he agreed to ensure the mansion was being maintained for when Adrien was ready to return to it. 

Adrien felt a little stalkerish as he checked Marinette’s social media accounts daily, followed Alya’s blog, and even yes. The Lady blog. Marinette got more beautiful as she grew up. He had been watching his friends from afar. Nino seemed to be doing good. He even found Luka’s page. He wondered why Marinette hadn’t mentioned anything on her pages about her boyfriend or husband. Luka seemed happily married as he bragged about various things his twins were doing, never posting pictures of them though, or his wife. 

Something tugged at Adrien’s heart as he scrolled through her pages. Juleka now served as her primary female model for her designs and even Luka joined in on occasion. He used to be Marinette’s model. As the contest date closed in, Adrien had to fight the urge to return to Paris for it. He wanted to be there, to witness Marinette winning. He knew her designs were going to be the winners. The days dredged by as Adrien maintained his covert agenda. His evening meals with Cheng Sifu, and his training with Chao Sifu. Two people that maintained his secrets. Even the grocery clerk aided him in his endeavors as she would help him pick out his fateful food items each day. 

“So, are you planning on being here for the judging?” Felix asked. 

“You know I can’t.” Adrien felt like his father, he had always had Nathalie walk around with the tablet showing him each of the designs. He didn’t even want to be that present. 

“I have an idea,” Felix said. “I’ll call you right back.” A few minutes passed when Adrien’s phone chimed on his duo to pick up a video call. He saw Felix standing in a mirror wearing a pair of clear lens glasses. The image was coming from a micro camera in the frames. “This way, You can hear and see everything and no one will be the wiser.” 

“How, can you hear me?” he asked. Felix reached up to the earpieces over both ears. 

“The speakers are her like with earbuds only they don’t go in the ear. I can’t see you though unless I look at my phone.”

“This is purrfect.” Adrien beamed. He saw his cousin groan dropping his shoulders.

“Did you just make a cat pun?”

“Yep.”

“Are you blushing?”

“Pawsibly.” 

“You’re encourageable.” Felix turned away from the mirror. He was in his suit at the Bourgeois Hotel. It was just like the one Chloe used to live in. 

“I know.” Adrien fought back the urge to say something cattish. 

“Goodbye, Adrien.” Despite his cold tone, Felix really did seem to enjoy their dynamics. He was the straight-laced one and Adrien, fun and playful. 

“Could you imagine Plagg?” Adrien slumped back in his chair. “If Felix was given this miraculous,” he said holding up his hand. A look of terror crossed Plagg’s face as if he was threatened to never be given cheese again. Adrien laughed. 

It was the day of the competition and Adrien watched as Felix straightened his tie. A chill running down his spine as he recalled how his father used to do it. Felix really was the younger version of his father. Sometimes he forgot that they had different fathers. Even though he looked nothing like his father, rather they both looked like Gabriel and Amelie. 

Adrien shook the feeling off his shoulders as he watched his cousin leave the bathroom. The venue was set up at the Graham De Vanily building in the showroom. There were tons of people scattered about the room with various changing stalls set up using temporary wall structures. Felix walked through the halls slowly inspecting each station. Two models to each one in a Cat Noir suit, the other in a Ladybug suit. The gender specification had been an explicit requirement for the event. 

Felix stopped by each inspecting the details and scoffed moving on to the next. Most of them were near replicas of the original suits. 

“Is there just one person here who didn’t copy the original design?” Felix fumed. 

“There,” Adrien said through the screen. He had to mirror his phone to the TV so he could get a better look at everything. His heart dropped when he recognized the old familiar midnight hair. It was no longer pulled into two down ponytails, instead, it was long and flowing. There was a bit of curl to it as it swayed back and forth with her movements. She was preparing her model already in costume. “I hope she’s not married,” he said before he realized his cousin could hear everything. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Felix said stepping up behind her. “What have you got for us this time.” He at least sounded pleasant. She spun around to face him. Adrien watched her face as it lit up in a bright red hue. 

“A..A... Adrien?” Adrien could feel heat welling up in her heart even though she was, once again mistaking Felix for him. The fact that she was still thinking about him and tripping over her words at the thought she was in his presence made him wish he had gone. 

“Felix, actually.” he took both of her hands in his looking down at them as he placed a kiss on each knuckle. “Adrien was a fool for letting a gem such as yourself slip through his fingers. Adrien fumed as his cousins’ obvious attempt to annoy him. Marinette’s cheeks returned to their normal hue as her face melted into sadness. Adrien’s heart broke for a minute. 

“Do you need a tissue, Adrien?” Plagg asked. Adrien ignored him so as to not expose him to Felix who could hear everything except the Kwami. 

“Show us what you have made for us.” Felix said. No one knew he was televising this for Adrien. Marinette explained in detail the design of this new Lady Noir Suit. It wasn’t all red as Ladybugs had been instead there was more black around the waist with a light red tulle skirting around the waist allowing for movement while offering a bit more coverage to the more sensitive areas. Another Tulle adornment lay over the breasts. 

“Exquisite Marinette,” Felix said.

“Ask about the signature stitching.” Adrien chimed in quickly. He was nearly biting at the bit as he watched his cousin explore every detail of the suit.

“Ah-hem. Um, show me your signature stitching.” He looked up at Marinette who suddenly blushed.

“How do you know about that?” Marinette shrieked. 

“Tell her Gabriel had made reference to it after other designs she had done.” Adrien threw in.

“I am the CEO of a fashion company, it is my job to know about that,” Felix smirked. Marinette pulled out another suit, it was designed for a man but she held up the collar piece showing the distinct gold embossed threading signing her name through the stitch. 

“You did that with each of these designs?” he mused then moved on to the Cat Noir suit. Adrien swallowed hard when he saw Luka wearing the Cat Noir Suit. He almost didn’t recognize him with the hood pulled nearly over his face. The Ears protruding through the hood even seemed to have a little fluff to them. The hood flowed down the back with fine red lines detailing the changes in the material. The extra padding around the soft spots was highly more with the deep red. Felix walked around Luka slowly inspecting every detain including the attached belt that held a baton. The extra-long belt that also served as Cat’s tail dangled down to the floor. Adrien wondered if his belt was actually longer now than it was when he was a teenager, he was much taller now. “Why is this red and not Neon green as his ring?” 

“This design is meant more for stealth. The red.” Marinette blushed. 

“Ah, she’s so cute.” Adrien didn’t mean to say that out loud. Felix snorted. 

“Who is Cat Noir without his Ladybug?” she finished. “I added more black to her’s to signify him on her so I thought I’d give him a piece of her.” Adrien felt warm at the thought. “As for the hood, Cat Noir has such bright hair, so this would provide him more stealth.” She scooped up the tail belt holding the end out for Felix to inspect. In fine detail along the edge of the belt was the customary Marinette signature. 

“Very good Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Felix again took her hands. He flipped them over and even rubbed his fingers along the back of her hands. “Lovely, sure you didn’t make these by hands these hands are far too nice to have labored so.” Ooh, that smooth talker. Adrien was standing now anger fumed on his face. Felix turned away and began walking to another stall. 

“Wait.” Marinette’s voice was small through the receiver. Felix turned around. Luka was holding her shoulders as she stood in front of him face Felix. She nearly shook as Adrien swore he saw a teardrop from her chin. “Can you tell him, if you see him…”

“What that you love him? I saw that video message you sent him. Was that your attempt to confess your feelings or just console a friend.” Felix seemed a bit harsh but Adrien bit back his words wondering what it was Marinette had said in the video.

“Tell him we miss him.” Ah there it was the fire in her eyes she was angry. “We miss our friend.” She turned away from Felix in a huff. Felix laughed.

“What are you doing Felix?” Adrien barked.

“Congratulations Marinette, I think you might just be our winner.” He scoffed then turned around. 

“I just had to see her fire up, oh Adrien,” Felix whispered. “I can see why she means so much to you.” Felix tapped a button on his phone and disconnected the call. Adrien had recorded the entire video call. He replayed the video showing Cat Noir’s suit. He memorized every detail. Mulling it over in his head before setting his phone down and calling on his transformation. 

He ran to the bathroom to examine his new suit. Every detail mimicked Marinette’s design. He suddenly realized and reached for his belt tail. It was longer. He studied the red stitching design and found it. Her signature was embedded into the magic suit he now wore. 

#miraculous fandom #miraculous chat noir #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #miraculous world #felix graham de vanily #miraculous adrien #adrien agreste

[queenofwerewolves]

Future Hope - chapter 1.5 - Practice Makes Perfect

Our heroes didnt get their powers and knew from night to day how to manage them, especially those who had physical changes to their body. Our soon-to-be heroes were all reunited in Maria's house, they had planed to spend the afternoon practing and exploring their new limits and abilities, all helping eitch other.

They decided since Griff had the biggest change, they would focus on him first. At the moment they were out in backyard, eitch one giving suggestions on what to begin first.

"Pick us all up at once with your new muscles!" Said Muffin excitedly. "That's still too light! Pick us all up plus Maria's car" Said Spike, chewing once again on a bubblegum.

"You all leave Hellride out of this!" Maria responded angrily. "That car was expensive as fuck and I refuse to go back to a life of Ubers!" She crossed her arms, indignified.

"You named your car?" Kip answered from high up a tree branch, as cats do. "I name all my belongings, what of it?" Maria answered. "And they're all cool names, too".

"Hellride? Really?" Spiked scoffed. "Because she rides fast as Hell! Look can we get back on track and find something for Griff to test his strenght?!" Maria answered nervously with a touch of embarrassment.

"Unless we find an Indiana Jones boulder for him to spin on his finger like a damn basketball we arent gonna get any damn progress!" Spike shouted back.

Maria sighed and shook her head. "I hate it when you have a point.." Griff nervously scratched the back of his head. "There must be something we can do.." He quietly mumbled out.

"I got it!" Muffin shouted, they all turned to face her. "I forgot Im a fairy! I can just poof something up!" She said excitedly. Everyone stared at her with either a confused or shocked look.

"..How... Do you FORGET that you're a fairy?!" Spike blurted out nervously. "You have fucking wings! How does one forget they have huge pink glittery wings?!"

Muffin just shrugged.

Maria smiled wide. "OK Muffin, give us something huge and heavy for Griff to use!" Muffin nodded and grabbed her wand which had a muffin on the tip. "Wand cook, beat and bake! Give us a big large and tasty cupcake!" She waved her wand and out appeared from a bunch of pink glittery smoke, a nearly two-story house tall chocolate cupcake.

"... Why a cupcake..?" Blink asked as she peeked behind her mask, in slight awe and wanting to secretly a bite out of it. "I can only make sweets!" Muffin said with a shy tone. "Im not a fighter like you guys, I only want to make people happy and eat candy!"

"That is certainly the biggest pastry I've ever seen! So large and beautiful, I bet tasty as well!" "Not to mention DIABETIC AS HELL!!! We could die from a heart attack eating that! Or worse, we could get fat! Even fatter! And become even uglier then we already are! This is too overwealming I need a nap!"

Rooko and Rooki suddenly spoke, almost taking everyone off guard on how their friend Rook is suddenly two split personalities now based on the Youtube character ENA, one is always happy while the other is always sad, and depending on the situation they can go Manic or Miserable.

"OK Griff, show us what you can do!" Maria shouted excitedly. Without missing a second, Griff bent over and gripped the edge of the massive cupcake, after struggling a bit he slowly but surely, lifted the entire thing over his head, smiling proudly.

His friends cheered and applauded proudly. Feeling satisfied, he dropped the cupcake and dusted the chocolate crumbs off his hands and fur. "Yokusei!" He shouted, and with a naruto-like smoke poof, he turned back to his human self. Maria ran and hugged him tightly, which Griff embraced and hugged back with a slight twirl.

"Griff you were amazing!!" Maria said with a proud tone, Griff slightly blushed pink at the small punk girl and her excitement. "Oh shucks, it was nothing.." He said with a shy tone.

"Well, and seems we concluded Griffin's training." Togekiss said as they took a sip of tea. "He jump twice as high as a two-story house, his punches and kicks can knock down brick walls and possibly more if we werent limited on objects to test it with, he can hear twice as much then a dog could with his ears, and his sense of smell is impecable. Truly Griff is a strong asset to our team."

"I can only train my powers at night.." Said Spooks, holding an umbrella to protect her from the sun, now that it injures her. "Muffin's power is only sweet making. Togekiss has exceptional I.Q and can see simulations in the future like Garnet in Steven Universe, along with their strong telekenisis, and Kip simply draws whatever she desires, whether alive or not and it becomes a reality... That means it's Rook's turn to show us what she can do" She finished.

"Wonderful! It's our time to shine!" "I-I-I not ready! Everyone's gonna laugh at us! I-I might piss myself in fear!" "Oh pull yourself together dear! Our friends wont laugh at us!" "How do we know that?! They're just waiting to correct us on a dumb mistake!!!"

Rook's body shook and twitched as her eyes turned to static, suddenly her entire eyes turned black with a blue iris, she turned Miserable.

"They're gonna laugh and point at our foolish selves, we're gonna be so embarrassed that we'll wish that the Earth will swallow us whole and just fucking kill us now!! Go ahead! Laugh at us and our misfortune!!!"

"ooh shit" Maria said. "can someone calm her down?"

Rook's eyes change to regular as her Miserable side went away. "No need my good Queen! We are completly fine! Now prepare to be dazzled as we show you all what we can do!" q

Rook pulled out a harry potter-like wooden wand, waved it around. "Bloom and Blossom and protect who I love! Rise my pretties, rise high and above!" Rooki shot an orange light at the grass, which made dozens of flowers bloom and grow around Spike and Blink.

"This is only one of my tricks! It's a shield that protects them from almost anything! My main weakness is fire, because while plants are beautiful, they are also sadly very, very flammable"

"Cool." Said Spike before using his bat to aggressivly hit the flowers and the vines aside so he and Blink could leave.

"M-M-My turn I guess!" Rook took hold of the wand and waved it in circles. "Razzle Dazzle Shine and Show, make their body move it low!" Rooko shot a blue light at Spooks, which made unwillingly and uncontrolably start dancing and as the spell said, make her go low.

"O-OH GOD SOMEONE MAKE IT STOP I DONT LIKE HOW MY BUTT IS MOVING THIS MUCH!!" She shouted in desperation as she made a split and moved it even lower.

"M-My deal is with music! I-It works as a way of distraction o-or hypnosis and it lasts for 30 minutes un-le-less I say otherwise! I-I know it's a sucky power!"

"OK COOL CAN I STOP DANCING PLEASE IM GETTING A CRAMP!!!" Yelled Spooks, practically begging. Rooko flicked her wand and Spooks fell on the ground, panting. "OH MY POOR HAMSTRINGS THEY ACHE!!" She yelled in utter pain, meanwhile Maria and Spike were absolutely losing it.

"O-OH GOD MY STOMACH HURTS-" Said Spike in between laughter.

"OK you guys cool it" Said Blink. "It's our turn to practice now. We're the only ones who use regular weapons." She said drawing her sword and positioning her mask back in place.

"O-OK! OK!" Maria said getting up, she pulled out a small staff and whipped it, making it stretch out wide into a full, large red and black scythe, with a rose print on the blade. Spike spun his bat and spat his gum out.

"So. Who's ass Im kicking first?" Said Spike. "Wait on second thought this might be unfair." Said Blink. "Me and Maria had blades while Spike has a bat, maybe we should-"

Before she could finish, Spike swung his bat and hit Blink sword, knocking it out of her hand before kicking her back at the ground. Blink fell back hard before she could even process what happen, dumbfounded but angry, she snarled. "Oh it's on now Motherfucker." She extended her hand and the sword flew back to her hand, as she charged towards Spike, who moved out of the way as soon as Blink swung her sword, which if he hadnt been for Maria's scythe, would have sliced her right up.

"Dude! Chill! This is a pratice!" Maria spoke as both of their blades were against eitch other. Blink hopped and flipped over her and landed on a tree branch, croutching like a ninja. She put her hands together and in a small puff of smoke and disappeared. Spike and Maria were back to back, ready to counterattack Blink, what they didnt expect was for her to attack from underground.

Buring up from the dirt, she got both of them off their feet and charged after Spike, who barely managed to regain his balance before his using bat his block Blink's sword. A back and forth of clash-clings-and-clangs between metal begun, one attacking the other but eitch blocking every attack again and again.

Spike ducked a sword slash and roundhouse kick Blink's leg, which was effective since she's practically a ninja. She backflipped back on her feet and kept attacking swiftly. But a sudden scythe blade cut in between them, stopping the fight.

"That's enough!!!" Maria shouted. "You both are gonna end up hurting yourselves or eitch other! im ending it now!!"

"Oh what the hell dude?!" Blink shouted indignified. "I was about to beat him!!" "Oh please." Answered Spike. "Was that the best you could do? Sakura could do a better job kicking my ass" He scoffed. They began to argue loudly, genuinely angry at eitch other.

"THAT"S ENOUGH!!!!" Maria shouted, making them, and everyone else look at her.

"It doesnt matter would win that fight! This was a practice and not a competition!! The point of us being a team and getting powers in the first place was for all of us to make the world a better place, but the only way that can happen is if all of us work together!! As a team!!!"

They stood in silence, listening to her talk and set them straight.

"As cheesy as that sounds, it's true!! We shouldnt fight eitch other like this, you're not just my friends, we're all friends with eitch other! We all go along well and we know that, that's why I got you all together, because no one can bond better in a team then all of us together!!!"

"... She's right." Togekiss added, walking towards them. "We all started as simple individuals with free time on a website, but we all shared common interests, we grew closer.. And suddenly like that, we all became friends.. A family, if you will."

"We take care of eitch other and look out for one another." Said Spooks.

"Just like how you all did for me.. When I almost died. Almost died because of the shit and violent world we live in." Maria said.. With a slight crack in her voice.

"You're bringing in the same violence that almost killed me.. So please.. Please stop fighting.. We're all in this together.. Right..?"

Spike and Blink dropped their weapons and hugged Maria, and everyone else joined in as well.

"You're right, we're sorry Queen." Said Spike. "We got overwhealmed and we didnt mean it. We wont fight again, because you're right." Added Blink.

"We only have eitch other in this world, and if we want to change it we have to stick together, just like you said." Spike said one more time.

"And we wont let you down.. We promise.." Griff finished, with everyone agreeing with what he said.

And so they stayed for a moment, embraced within eitch other in a group hug. A family isnt perfect, there will be disagreements, but a good bond will always overcome those disagreements, and that's what they had, a good bond.

A bond that's practically unbreakable and untaintable. A bond that will soon be ready, and fight together to make the world a better place.

A bond that will the world's Future Hope..

#Queen's Story #consider this a side chapter #it's small but significant for the characters

[bee-kathony]

positions ch. 2 “flowers in her hair” | Eloise & Phillip 

Chapter One

Phillip and Eloise find themselves in another arousing position

Phillip was in his study, large books open all around him. It was after dinner, and Eloise had gone to help the children prepare for bed. She knew she didn’t have to do that, as they had a perfectly suitable nanny that helped. But no matter what Phillip said, Eloise always did exactly what she wanted. He admired her for that among many other reasons.

They had four children now, their youngest Georgiana only being five months old. Eloise had shown just the same amount of love to Phillip’s first two children, Oliver and Amanda as she now did to her own flesh and blood. She was a wonderful mother, and Phillip reminded her of this nearly every day.

The first time Eloise had fallen pregnant, she had been so anxious about becoming a mother. She thought she wasn’t cut out for it, but he reminded her that she was already a mother to two very mischievous children.

“If you can handle the twins, then you can certainly handle a newborn baby,” Phillip laughed.

“It’s the taking care of the baby that I’m worried about,” Eloise sighed, lifting another biscuit to her lips. “I’ve taken care of my younger siblings enough times to know what needs to be done. But…”

“But…” Phillip slid his arm around her shoulders.

“What if I fail… at being a mother?” she sniffed, trying to hide her emotions.

Phillip gathered his pregnant wife into his arms, kissing her temple. “You won’t fail. God knows that if anyone has failed as a parent, then I deserve that claim. Just remember that you aren’t alone in this, Eloise.”

“I’m not, aren’t I?” She looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

“Never,” he kissed her lips softly.

Phillip had doubts of his own of course, as he was not exactly present in the first formative years of the twins’ lives. Rather than dwelling on what he could not change, Phillip focused on the future and making sure that their family was first above all else.

He was looking at his journals of pressed flowers now, trying to compile all his findings into a compendium of sorts. Writing a book about his passion for botany had been years in the making, and it was only until he met Eloise that he allowed himself to think it a real possibility.

The section on peas was almost complete, with drawings and diagrams of how he had finally bred them to grow fatter and plumper. He had come upon the key to it completely by accident. Phillip could pat himself on the back for his finds as much as he would like, but sometimes things just happened without any help from us.

Twirling a dried primrose between his fingers, Phillip was too engrossed in his work to notice that his wife had entered his study.

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat, a smirk on her lips as he lifted his gaze. “I knew you wouldn’t be in bed just yet.”

“Sorry,” Phillip blushed, and pushed back his chair to stand.

Eloise held out her hand, signaling for him to sit down.

“I want to see what you’re working on,” she smiled, her skirts lifting as she came around to his side of the desk and peered over his journals. “More of the pressed flowers?”

“Yes,” he slid his hand along her back. “Just trying to sort them out into which native country they belong to.”

“Fascinating,” Eloise trailed her fingers over a blue flower that he had just picked earlier that afternoon.

Reaching forward, he swiped the flower from under her fingers and turned her head to look at him.

“And which flower is this?” She asked.

“This is the Centaurea cyanus,” Phillip said, tucking the flower behind her left ear. “Otherwise known as a cornflower.”

“This shade is lovely,” Eloise remarked and then took a seat on Phillip’s thighs, leaning back against him. “Will you show me your favorite?”

“Certainly,” he smiled. Eloise tried very hard to be interested in his work, and he could tell that she genuinely was. Other times, of course, he could see her eyes glazing over as he talked of the differing properties between a plant grown in different type of soil.

“The ones I have laid out here are all wildflowers,” he took her hand and laid it atop a white cloth covered in blooms. “This is the caprifoliaceae or the honeysuckle. This is the—“

“Forget-me-not!” Eloise happily named the small light blue flower, grinning back at him.

“Yes,” he laughed, admiring the rosy hue to her cheeks. “The Myosotis.”

He continued to point out several different types of wildflowers, giving their scientific name and species. Botany was one of his greatest passions, and Phillip loved getting the chance to share that with his wife.

“Do you have a favorite flower?” Eloise asked, adjusting her position on his lap.

Phillip had many favorite flowers, in fact there was not one that he didn’t love. But his favorite was a flower he had only seen a handful of times in person, as they were not common in England.

“I do,” he nodded. Phillip slid one arm tightly around her waist, loving the feeling of her full weight on his thighs. “It’s called the protea neriifolia, and it’s more commonly found in South Africa.”

Phillip leaned forward, pressing Eloise gently into the desk. He searched through his journals until he found the sketch he had of the flower, done many years ago. It was usually a dark pink color, growing upwards from the stem. The petals almost favored a birds feathers, and they were just as soft.

“It’s an interesting one,” Eloise said, leaning closer to look. “I’ve never seen anything quite like that here.”

“A friend of mine from South Africa was visiting England a few years back, and he brought several of his native flowers. I had never seen something quite so strange, but also so lovely. The tips are usually black, which is odd for a flower,” he said, moving the hair that had fallen down her back.

“Does it have a meaning?” She asked. “Don’t most flowers have some sort of meaning?”

“They do,” Phillip smiled, and slid his other hand along her hip. He thought he saw Eloise give him a sly look as he squeezed her hip. “It means transformation, or courage.”

“Courage,” Eloise said, reaching back to cup his cheek. “That’s something you have a lot of.”

Phillip brought her face down to his, kissing her lips lightly.

In fact, he did have a lot of courage. Courage to overcome all the pain and loss he had suffered as well as the courage to allow himself to love again. He had never felt so complete than in this moment, holding his wife.

“I do love you,” he whispered, pressing his cheek against her back. Eloise touched his hand over her stomach, squeezing it tightly.

“And I love you.”

They sat in silence for awhile as Phillip cradled Eloise against him. She was soft and tender in his arms, and he quite frankly never wanted to let go. But Eloise was sitting on a particular body part, that had begun to come alive ever since she took her spot on his lap. As she squirmed, leaning forward to flip through his journals, Phillip couldn’t stop the groan that left his lips.

“Am I hurting you?” She looked over her shoulder at him. “You better say no.”

“No,” Phillip smiled, his hands curving over her hips and began to move down her thighs. “It’s not that.”

Eloise opened her mouth to ask him for further explanation, but his hands were gathering the material of her dress, exposing her legs to the cool air of the room.

“Oh,” she blushed furiously.

“Oh, indeed,” Phillip chuckled, kissing her shoulder.

“Should we go to the bedroom?” Eloise’s breathing was labored, a flush creeping up her neck.

“No,” Phillip growled, pulling up her dress to expose her thighs. “Like this.”

His hands moved along her bare thighs, feeling her smooth skin. He parted her thighs, letting them hang on either side of his. Eloise was open to him now, and she collapsed against his chest, biting her bottom lip in anticipation.

On many occasions, Phillip had gotten them into different positions. He loved how willing and adventurous Eloise was. She allowed him to fancy every fantasy and whim he had, as he also allowed her to do the same.

“I like to feel you like this,” Phillip said softly. One hand moved along her inner thigh, feeling her heat.

“I can certainly feel you as well,” Eloise wiggled her bottom, no doubt feeling his arousal pressed against her body.

Phillip stroked her thigh back and forth, teasing as he moved one finger closer to her center. Eloise’s breath caught as he pressed lightly against her slit. She was wet for him, and this only made him harder. His length throbbed against the tight constraints of his trousers.

Eloise reached down, squeezing his left hand in hers, and began to roll her hips, begging for more. Sliding a finger inside of her, Phillip groaned at the tight sensation. Since she was sitting on his lap, he couldn’t see what he was doing, but the lack of sight only heightened his senses.

“Oh Phillip,” Eloise panted, reaching one hand back to grip his head.

“I need to be inside of you, Eloise,” Phillip nipped at her shoulder, and then removed his finger, clutching at her waist as he lifted her up. She stayed lifted off his lap long enough for him to remove his hard length from his trousers.

Quickly, he pushed her dress up to her waist, exposing her bottom. With her legs parted, she was open and ready for him.

“I want to savor this,” Phillip groaned as he took himself in hand, pumping slowly. “But the sight of you is enough to make me come.”

“Don’t be gentle about it,” Eloise turned her head, meeting his gaze and smiling wickedly.

Phillip grabbed onto her hip, and positioned himself at her entrance. She fluttered around him, sighing as she sank down inch by inch. He was large, he knew this, but Eloise accommodated him perfectly.

Once he was snugly inside of her, Phillip snaked one arm around her waist, holding her tight. “It is heaven to be inside you,” he mumbled, hoping his words made sense and weren’t just breathy pants.”

“Move,” Eloise almost cried out, desperate to feel him against her walls. She leaned forward, placing both hands on the desk before her, and rocked her hips. Phillip kept one hand on her waist and the other on her hip. With every thrust, her buttocks bounced, slapping his thighs.

Phillip was unable to move as he desired, blocked by both the chair and the desk, but he bounced Eloise on his hard cock. She was slick, and slid down easily on him. As lovers, they knew the way of one another’s body, and had grown together over the years. Phillip slid one hand up her body, cupping her round breast, full and swollen from breastfeeding.

“Ah!” She cried out, and leaned against the desk, pressing her face to the cool wood. Her hands flattened, clutching at something to hold onto. As she moved, Phillip was able to rise, pushing back against the chair as he stood and readjusted inside of her.

“Eloise!” He pounded into her, looking down at the place of their joining. She stood now, her legs wide. “I want to fuck you every day,” he said without thinking about the vulgarity of his words. “Fuck you in every damn room of this house.”

“Please,” Eloise begged, reaching back to clutch at his arm as she moved onto his cock.

“Say it,” Phillip’s heart was racing and he knew he was close, but he would see to Eloise’s pleasure first.

“Say what?” She flushed.

Phillip stopped his movements slowing inside of her, his cock throbbing. He trailed one hand down her back, and settled it on her bottom, squeezing the tender flesh.

“Say you want me to fuck you.”

Normally, Phillip would not use this kind of language around a woman, but with Eloise, all sense of propriety and decorum flew out the window. Something about making love to her turned him into a carnal beast, desperate for her.

Eloise’s face was red, from his words and their movements. He thought she might not say it, but then she met his gaze, her lips parted, and Phillip groaned.

“I want you to fuck me,” she said softly, sounding embarrassed, but altogether aroused.

“With pleasure Eloise Crane,” Phillip bent over her body, pressing forward as he thrust into her. A second later, he felt her own fingers rubbing over her clit, and that’s when Phillip came, hard and fast, unable to wait a moment longer.

Eloise rubbed over her mound, her eyes tight shut as Phillip came. His movements slowed, but he kept thrusting until she cried out, and her body jerked underneath his.

His journals and flower pressings would have to be sorted again, as their love making had rearranged his desk.

Phillip pulled out of her, grabbing a spare handkerchief in his desk drawer to clean himself and Eloise up. Then he lifted her off of the desk and carried her into his arms, walking over to the divan on the opposite side of the room.

“Surely this would have been a much more comfortable place for what we just did,” Eloise blushed in his arms, her fingers stroking the hair at his nape.

“Yes,” Phillip agreed, smiling. “But not quite as much fun.”

Eloise sighed against his chest, and he was content to sit there all night, holding her in his arms. There was once a time in his life that Phillip thought he did not deserve love. But it was Eloise, his darling wife, that showed him he did. Not only did he deserve love, but he was capable of giving love right back.

#positions #phillip x eloise #sir phillip #to sir phillip with p*ssy #eloise bridgerton #phillip crane #bridgerton fic #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfic #philloise

[fictionalpositive]

Highschool lovers

This is my very first Jason Peter Todd fan fiction, I hope you enjoy it! 

Jason Peter Todd fanfiction 

Completed on 7th July 2020

6000+ words 

Set within the new 52. 

The characters and all it’s rights belong to DC comics. 

(Y/N) (L/N) smiled to herself, applying the red lipstick on her lips. Her sleek beige brown strands were brushed straight with brown contacts in her eyes. Letting a big huff she walked out from the toilet, she heard a group of boys laughing from the corner as a smile graced her lips. She skipped towards the boy who stood amongst his friends with his back that faced her.

Jason Peter Todd

With a red and blue jacket he had his hair slicked back with gel. She could see his shoulder shake as his laugh reached her ear. She slowly wrapped her arms around his waist to where the boy jumped slightly. He turned his head back.

“杰森， 为什么你很高兴吗?”(1) she whispered in his ear as she giggled digging her eyes into the crook of his nape. “艾， （名字）.”(2) he said, he turned, wrapping his arms around the small form of the young girl hugging him from his behind.

“你们说什么?” (3) She asked.

“Nothing serious,” he said, turning his body around as he wrapped his arms around her shoulder. “Bye.” Jason could hear the utters of disapproval coming behind him before they laughed while his shoulder was over her shoulder.

(1) Jason, why are you so happy?

(2) Oh, (Y/N)

(3) What were you guys talking about?

"What was that?" (Y/N) asked him before he shrugged his shoulders, a smirk on his face. “I was telling them how beautiful you were,” he said, poking her nose. “Were?” she questioned as he giggled. “My mistake, I was telling them ‘How beautiful you are,’ doll” The girl's cheek heated up at the bashful words. Her lips curved upwards, she wrapped her arms around his neck and connected their lips together in a silent kiss.

Oh, how much she loved this boy.

A chuckle erupted from Jason’s lips, "what was that?” he questioned.  

"You just seemed so kissable at the moment." Her eyes glimmered as she looked at him with her head tilted slightly downwards. The boy states silent, kissing her forehead. “I thought I looked kissable everyday,” he said running a finger through his hair brushing the long locks.

“Gosh, we need to cut this off Jason.” She groaned pulling at his mullet. “My parents want to meet you,” she whispered, tucking at the hair that framed his face.

“Does my hair look bad?” he questioned as he raised his brow, the corners of his lips quirked in a smirk directed at his lover. “I mean— you do… but it’s not appropriate for the gathering gala….” she answered touching his nape, drawing circles.

“I know,” he said, frowning as he held her chin up. “Are you scared they won’t accept me?”

She looked down.

Of course she was. What asian kid wouldn’t be.

“They’re just so judgy, I told them you weren’t Asian . . . and well . . . you know how that went.” Her words continued, “but they’re glad you’re a Wayne.” she stated happily as Jason only giggled in response.

Jason let out a giggle before he wrapped his arms around her sighing at the thought of the Gala.“Remind me why we have to go again?” Jason questioned slightly letting his cheeks puff a little at his lover. The girl only smiled giggling a little bit before kissing his nose. “It’s our last year of highschool Jay, I would love to tell my parents my dear boyfriend of 6 months.” she cooed slowly tracing her fingers up his cheeks.

“I would also love it if your parents were more accepting of me,” he whispered, kissing her nose making her let out a small gasp. (Y/N) giggled at his loving gesture.

“Now you’re just making me worry….” (Y/N) said teasingly.

“Don’t worry (Y/N), I was adopted by the fanciest man alive,” he reassured, jokingly pulling her close. “They’ll definitely like this good face in a black turtleneck and a grey suit.” he said chuckling at the way she blushed.

“Yeah, they’ll definitely like a makeover 杰森.”(4) She replied giggling tracing her hand over his hair. “But you’re fine just the way you are a jaybird,” she swooned.

“It’s never too late for a make out session after school,” he whispered before she smiled. “How about a quick one now,” she said before connecting their lips again. Running her hand through his hair before she pulled away.

“You better be at the gym afterschool (L/N).” he whispered before connecting their lips again in a chaste kiss. She giggled.

“I’ll be there Todd,” she said before leaving him to class.

“是的，可以啊爸爸，今天我走了, 我长胖了.”(5) (Y/N) told her father as he just agreed with what she had told him. She closed the phone hearing Jason mutter out in annoyance, “你不胖，你是苗条.”(6) She giggled but came to him, placing herself on his lap kissing him from above to where he complied. “我需要减肥,”(7) She whispered but he gripped her waist pulling her close. “You don’t know how beautiful your body is to me (Y/N),” he said kissing her neck. A light giggle escaped her lips.

“Ya whatever just shut up and kiss me.”

“Oh desperate I see?.”

“Jason...” she trailed. Her brows furrowed.

The boy chuckled before kissing her lips, “don’t worry, I’ll definitely satisfy you.”

(4) Jason

(5) Ya, Let me father, I’ll walk home, I’ve been getting fatter

(6) You’re not fat, you are slim

(7) I need to lose weight

(Y/N) smiled before she ducked her head to the boy under her. He trailed his hand on her sides, resting his fingers on the fold of her hips. Licked her bottom lip. (Y/N) let out a small whimper before he roamed her wet cavern. Both of their eyes closed with lips molded in a heated session. Her hands were tugging at his hair, her body buckled forward, desperately trying to pull him closer. His right hand released her hip moving towards her back, tracing heart patterns with his index finger as she smiled standing again and looking at him from above. Their bodies tangled together like a braided dance. He opened his eyes as the sight on top of him made his breath hitch.

The epiphany hit him. The jingle of bells drummed in his ear as his eyes couldn’t take off the face he had in front of him. (L/N) (Y/N) was absolutely beautiful. Her bright (e/c) was covered with the brown contact lenses and streaks of her natural (h/c) was starting to grow from her brown dyed hair. Her flushed face made his blood boil as he could feel his jaws weirdly feeling light, he clenched his teeth before diving into her neck. Trailing it with small peppery kisses. (Y/N) giggled before she smiled bringing his head back up to see her face.

“You’re all mine,” he growled between the kisses.

She pulled away, showing him her doe eyes as her lips gently curved.

“I’m all yours, Love.”

Love? A brazen move. He knew how much his lover knew he loved being called ‘Love’. The word that explicitly explains a passionate gleam of light between two people. The word he became fond of after completely falling for (Y/N) (L/N). Melting his heart and giving life to the butterflies in his stomach. Oh, how much he loved that pet name.

He stopped as he placed his head on the crook of her neck. Leaving it there. Before he found one spot that made her bend forward. Her lips eliciting a loud moan that escaped her mouth. He quickly placed his arms around her waist, holding onto her tightly.

“You belong to me (Y/N) (L/N).”

Leaving a red mark on her neck.

“Isn't that absurd? And now I’m not allowed to go patrol with him anymore," Jason whined at the girl.

(Y/N) watched as the droplets of water fell down his cheeks. His hair was framing his face in the most adorable way. She let out a chuckle before placing his jacket around her.

“You sure you wanna go by foot? I could always drop you with Alfred—” Jason was cut off by (Y/N) connecting their lips in a chaste kiss. “Don’t worry Jason, I’ll be fine.”

(Y/N) grazed his cheek with the feathery touch of her lip. "See you later, love." She said before rushing out the door of the MRT. With eyes wide as saucers his hand tickled his nose as he let out a small chuckle.

“I’m definitely lucky.” the words left like a small whisper before he looked back up at the phone in his hand. Seeing a message pop from the screen, he quickly unlocked it departing to meet Alfred at the entry of the station.

“Master Jason, I would like to stress that Master Bruce won’t be able to join your Gala tonight,” Alfred told the young child as Jason nodded silently thanking the Gods Bruce wasn’t going to come. “That’s alright Alfred!”

“Anyways up to your room Master Jason,” Jason nodded replying enthusiastically before going into his room. He stopped as his head peaked out from his door again. Eyes looking for the Wayne butler as he requested him a favor.

“Actually Alfred! Can you do my hair today?”

Alfred stopped turning back to look at the boy as he only smiled in return favoring the determination in Jason’s eyes before dramatically sighing and nodding replying to Jason. “I will be back shortly after I get your suit Master Jason.” He said, he turned around to get Jason’s suit.

Jason smiled before hopping into the shower to wash himself further than he had already done at school. Well, it would’ve been suspicious of him to not take a shower after going home like he always does in the manor. It was one of his salvations.

As he stepped out of the shower, He heard the click of his door resonate as eyes looked excitedly at the man standing in front of the door with a dark blue suit. “Oh, blue?” Jason asked slightly disappointed as he thought he was going to wear grey.

“This would make a better impression of you Master Jason, you do want to impress Miss (Y/N)’s parents now don’t you?” Alfred questioned as Jason only listened and nodded, while Alfred dressed him. “I would like to ask what do you find so endearing of Miss (Y/N) Master Jason?” Alfred curiously questioned before Jason just whipped his head back beaming at the man with his joyful expression.

“Everything! She’s amazing….” Jason sighed, closing his eyes and feeling Alfred smother the gel on his hair “Adorable, smart, diligent, self-aware, gorgeous…” Jason continues to sputter out compliments as Alfred only smiled at the lovesick boy he tended to in front of him.

“I see you are besotted with her Master Jason,” Alfred said smiling. Jason furrowed his brows at the word Alfred used, Besotted? What did that mean? He was sure he'd read that word somewhere in a book before, what did it mean again….

Then it clicked.

“Ya, definitely Alfred.” he replied before he heard his phone ring in the background. He took it and unlocked it to see the message you had sent him.

‘Can’t wait to see you tonight >v<’ it said.

He smiled replying back. ‘Me to.’ It was simple yet it put (Y/N)’s heart into a million flutters.

From the other side (Y/N) giggled at his reply, her mind racing with the thought of seeing Jason in a suit while he would hug her and kiss all over. Just the thought of Jason made her stomach flutter as she couldn’t tame the small laughs that came from her stomach. Though it went to an abrupt stop the moment her mother called out for her to go downstairs and check on the chef with the butler as she shouted back and happily leaving her phone on the counter.

Jason stepped out of the limo as Alfred had wished him good luck. Jason gulped before standing in front of the black and white house that belonged to his girlfriend. Sure it wasn’t as big as the mansion he had been living in the past few years but it was big and secured enough for him to know how rich your family was. “你是谁?” (8) the voice asked beside him as he smiled at the camera. “Jason Todd.” The sound of shuffling paper resonated within the microphone before eyes darting from the LED-screen in front of him back to the tablet that emitted more paper-like shuffle noises.

“你要什么?” (9)

“Gala.”

“好啊. ”(10)

(8) Who are you?

(9) (Y/N)

(10) ah, okay.

The large and tall wall that was supposedly a gate opened before the sound of creaking metal followed. The bright light in his eye diminished as Jason stepped forward, greeted by two dogs that barked, alerting the people of the stranger that had stepped foot within their territory. One was of the dog breed Kangal and the other of a pure albino breed of dogo argentino. They were both behind a glass cage that seemed to connect with the mansion. Eyes furing with hunger as their barks roared through the tunnel, both dogs running back inside the house as Jason’s brows furrowed.

Great, two passive-aggressive guard dogs…. his mind confused on the overpowered breeds of dogs (Y/N) had when she had a younger sister only of the age three.

“Jason!” that angelic voice called out to him. His eyes dilated at the sweet voice, his gaze quickly moved to the source looking straight ahead of him. The dress that flowed effortlessly in the wind, the white flower that garnished the side of her (h/c) hair and small pink flowers of different shades and sizes that embellished her dress’s side straps.

“(Y/N),” he called before lifting her up in his arms twirling her around like he hadn’t met her in such a long time. Eyes admiring the fear that glimmers as she held onto his shoulders tightly. “Jay! Put me down,” she said before Jason chuckled and placed her down.

“You look amazing (Y/N),” he whispered before pulling her close and kissing down her neck to where she giggled and pushed him off. “Stop, what if my parents see you kissing me,” she teased before he smiled and pecked her nose. “Then, they should know you’re in good hands.” His hands trailed to the back of her dress that had an open slit as she shivered. “God, Todd!” she whimpered out loud embarrassed as she hit his chest over and over again before an amusing laugh left his lips.

He kneeled on one knee before proceeding to let his hand out while the other was under his shirt. “Shall we, princess?” he asked before she stopped and giggled at his cute antics.

“We shall,” she replied before gracefully placing her hand on top of his, securing her hand on his as he clenched them before going in. A big smile on her face while his face was decorated with a crooked line.

Nervous wasn’t enough to explain the heart wrenching sweat Jason Peter Todd was feeling. He was sure he was in a cold sweat. Even the training by the almighty Batman couldn’t compare to how damp his hands were at the moment as the crooked look on his face showed exactly how jittery he was in front of the family who glared into him while his lover completely blunt of their glares chatted away with her dear cousin right next to him.

Though Jason tried his best to not be overwhelmed by the eyes that dug into the back of his head he couldn’t help but notice the way the females would stare into him with longing as he sweatdropped at the amount of attention he was getting, a little uncomfortable that he had all their attention but not yours.

He sighed, sipping the long glass of champagne in his hand before he annoyingly looked over at (Y/N) who was too endorsed with the conversation she had to even notice his eyes on hers. Jason looked around.

Smiling a little at the thought of his foster father, he was slightly surprised at the hand that fluttered on his shoulder. Turning around he was met with the eyes of hazel and blonde hair. “Glad I’m not the only non-asian here,” she listelessly said from her lips as the strands of pale yellow hair decorated her face complimented the way her cheeks rounded because of her smile.

“Haha, I wasn’t expecting another foreigner in the famous (L/N)’s Gala,” Jason said as he smiled and tilted his body to look at her. “Mary Maganda.” Her hands reached out towards Jason while he smiled and shook her hand. He replied,“Jason Todd.”

“Aren’t you a sexy hunk Jason,” she purred letting out a flirtatious wink as Jason chuckled but smirked in return. “Thank you,” he replied, winking back at her as they both let out long laughs from their flirtatious exchange. Jason rubbed his eyes as the girl placed her hand around his shoulder tracing his arm with her index slightly purring, Jason furrowed his brows slightly at the way she traced his arm. His hand flinched away from the contact as the girl looked at him confused but he just smiled.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Jason replied calmly, “Sorry, I have a girl—”

“He’s taken Mary.”

Jason whipped his eyes towards the direction of the voice, feeling lips grace his neck as the female beside him wrapped her fingers around his shoulder. “I can’t help but notice that you were touching what’s mine,” (Y/N) replied, slowly lifting her finger towards her hair as she smiled a happy grin.

“You know you should stay away from what’s mine,” (Y/N)’s breath tickled his neck as he beamed at the contact.

Finding her dominance and jealousy endearing. “Or, I’ll steal everything that’s yours.”

(Y/N) was one of the richest people in the country, in par to Bruce Wayne the billionaire, of course people feared her. Especially when the glint of red appeared in her eyes from when she would be mad or jealous. Her family were considered royalty. Being a tech company also meant she was a genius in the area, the way she could easily hack into their school computers wi-fi without them knowing and the way she had built her own artificial intelligence robot from a young age and being able to explain it without hesitation within the school science fair gave her the title of being the feared yet respected child of the (L/N)’s family. She was definitely not someone you could just mess with without getting away. Especially when she was the heir to the company, not even her brother could deny the fact that (Y/N) was much more educated in the ways of business and technology.

“Didn’t know he was taken (Y/N).” Mary let her hands raise in defeat as the foreign girl stepped back. Her eyes darted worriedly towards another man before she waved and went by.

“You didn’t have to do that, y’know,” Jason replied slightly taken aback by the way (Y/N) had overreacted. He could’ve easily done it himself for god’s sake that was just embarrassing, hiding behind his girlfriends shadow like he couldn’t fend for himself. It was as if she broke his pride with her sword, slit it down his throat, and made him do seppuku.

“I just didn’t like her with you...” she said, teasing him with her fingers as she touched the skin beneath her fingertips. “I know you can handle it by yourself but...” She stared at his eyes, “is it bad that a girl can get jealous too?” Jason let out a small sigh. His lover only looked delighted as she traced her fingers on his hand folding in between the cracks of his fingers before suggesting, “let’s go meet my parents Jay.”

Jason slightly gulped at what she said, his eyes looked worried as his hands started to profoundly get sweatier by the second. Nervously nodding, she let him drag her across the marbled floor of the ballroom before stopping in front of two people. One was a kind looking man with a big stature while the other was a thin woman in a big and elegant dress that complimented her wrinkles.  

Oh god, these were your parents… of course he knew them from the news and the posters set around Gotham but he never really bothered to notice how intimidatingly fancy they looked. Why was he baffled anyways? He was the son of Bruce Wayne for God’s sake! The richest man in Gotham.

“妈！爸！这是杰森！”(11) (Y/N) called out excited that Jason was finally going to meet her parents.

Jason slightly bowed while he shaked (Y/N)’s fathers’ hand. “你-您好（名字）的爸爸，” (12) Jason let out nervously as the man only laughed a little at his nervous voice before he turned to (Y/N)’s mother,“您好（名字）的妈妈，我是杰森。” (13)

“你是（名字）的男朋友？” (14) Her dad questioned. (Y/N) smiled leaning onto Jason’s shoulder before nodding her head furiously. Letting her dad know Jason was her boyfriend.

“I never imagined our (Y/N) being infatuated with a foreigner,” Her dad started as the woman beside him nodded and smiled at Jason. “But my, must I say, you are handsome young lad—just as (Y/N) said,” she told Jason as the warmth that crawled onto his cheek flushed (Y/N)’s cheeks as well.

“谢谢，”(15) Jason embarrassingly replied as her parents laughed.

(11) Mom! Dad! This is Jason!

(12) He-hello (Y/N)’s dad

(13) Hello (Y/N)’s mom, I am Jason

(14) This is (Y/N)’s boyfriend?

(15) Thank you

“It’s alright to use English with us Jason, We used to live in America a couple of years back,” (Y/N)’s mother said in a smile as Jason only chuckled. “I just thought you’d be more comfortable with Mandarin,” Jason said scratching his neck.

“Well, both are fine!” (Y/N)’s father exclaimed, hugging his loving wife.

“What are you planning to do in the future son?” (Y/N)’s father said as Jason slightly tensed at the question. This was the part he was worried of, Chinese parents and their expectations on their kids. He stopped as he felt (Y/N) tug at his hand slightly soothing him with her thumb as he smiled finally looking back and telling them what he had in mind.

“Probably branch out from my father’s company.”

“Ah, I see,” (Y/N)’s father replied timidly as Jason felt relieved for a moment before the atmosphere turned bright. Eyes are boring into Jason's green ones. Before the atmosphere was cut lightly by (Y/N)’s mother. “Go have fun with Jason now sweetie,” (Y/N)’s mother said taking her gently in her arms as she kissed her child’s forehead.

“Have fun then darling,” Her father said.

Taking Jason to the middle of the room she placed her arm around his neck as the music slowly started. The melody soothing into their ears as the illuminating feeling in his heart cherished his chest.

They moved, Jason leading the dance as he loved the look of the top of her head on his shoulder leaning in as they moved gently along with the rhythm of the music that made their feets move to the beat, the sound completely washed their thoughts of anything away as the lyrics resonated with their thoughts of each other. (Y/N) moved her head to look at him right in the eye again. That was when a smile Jason didn’t know he had started to hurt his cheeks. (Y/N) reached up to his face before tracing her thumb on his bottom right eye. Feeling the way the bump of his eye formed from his smile. Her giggles reached his ear as he could feel the sound of his heart drumming in his chest—held gently by her hands.  

“I love you,” Jason breathed out unconsciously before his smile shattered forming a nervous line as his eyes brightened. His cheeks flushed with warmth as his head tilted to look a way a little before he was stopped by her hands holding his face in place.

“As do I, Jason Todd.” she professed.

His heart stopped at the face she was making. Slitted eyes as her long lashes decorated the frame of her long eyes, brows beautifully thick, lips painted with one of the color of a dark cherry. He wondered whether people could see the same exact shape and color on his neck that she had kissed out of jealousy. The music stopped as they continued to dance with their own rhythm too hypnotized with each other's presence that even the appearance of the brother of the family wasn’t a sight to behold anymore.

Her gown twirled on the floor as their movements were accurate and defined, with a graceful step they stopped before giggling and (Y/N)’s head crashed onto his chest from the sudden embarrassed flash of realization that they were the only ones left dancing. Jason looked down at the girl in his hold. Before chuckling himself taking her hand as they both decided to hide from the eyes of the hungry predators that wanted to see their love unfold.

He knew this wasn’t the right time to tell her, but it was important. He wasn’t just going to leave her to utter confusion.

“(Y/N), I have something important I want to tell you,” he started out slowly as she hummed in the process.

“Tell me Jay,” she said slowly listening to the chattering in the crowd.

“I might not be able to see you for a while.”

“What do you mean?” (Y/N) replied.

“For about a couple of months?”

“What? Jason?” her confused demeanour  looked slightly angry as the feeling bubbles in her stomach. A couple of months? What did he mean by that? The once confused look on her face shifted into a sad look, eyebrows knitting upwards as her lips curved downwards, her eyes slitting at the look he was giving her. She was scared. She can’t be apart from Jason, he was her everything. She would have understood if it was a couple of days … but a couple of months? Now that’s absurd! Did he want to leave her? What was this about?

Is he disappointed in her? Just like how her parents were never impressed by her rewards and grades. Like she was never enough. A green feeling engulfed her chest before it started to pump and hurt like she was slowly drowning in her own pain. The look (Y/N) gave Jason made his chest clench. His big hands reached her face as they traced her cheeks before the other pulled her close by the waist to him. His lips let out intoxicating words that were meant to coax her with comfort as they also peppered her skin with sweet light pecks. His fingers and lips grazing her skin with warm hearts made (Y/N) let out a large whimper before she pulled him closer by his vest digging her face in his suit. Letting out the anxiety and insecurity she held close to her chest to protect herself from the hurtful words of her family that degraded her because of her sex. As if she could live to only marry a rich man without being able to provide for their finances herself. She deserved her title as the heiress ... Right? Her brother never really worked hard and he probably wouldn’t be able to accomplish the same thing even if he tried. But under it all, (Y/N) knew who the true heir to her company was … who else could take over the company if it wasn't her first blood-brother? She was a girl for god’s sake—who would even trust her?

Jason let her cry into him, soothing her sobs with the touch of his fingers, leading her closer into his chest.

He didn’t know why she suddenly started crying but he wasn’t going to let her cry on her own. How could he do that.

“D-don’t leave me Jay,” his heart clenched. What?

“Jay, please don’t leave me.”

He looked down at the way she cradled her arms in her other hand, how vulnerable she looked without her even looking at her face with teary eyes. God the effect she had on him even when she was broken to pieces, (Y/N) (L/N) will be the death of him. Though, he was silently dreading the consequences of his decision on the obligation he had to continue as the want for a parental figure in his life drove him further to madness. Sure Bruce was a good father, but he wanted to know more about his parents … or more accurately, he wanted to know the truth. He wanted to know the truth to his life. Jason Todd was always known to be the prideful Robin, different from the previous Dick Grayson. He was brash and brazen, a boy who followed the feel of his heart not his guts; those were just what made him. He had to quench his thirst no matter the consequences, nothing else could’ve mattered more to him at the moment. Though, (Y/N) was definitely one of the people that kept his inner-monster grounded.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry,” he hushly said as she listened to his apology before lifting her head towards him, the blush on her cheeks slightly faded but the beauty in her eyes remains the same.

“Don’t be….” (Y/N) whispered gently, placing her hand on his nape and standing on her toes. Her lips brushed his before Jason connected their lips together, the ecstatic happiness he felt when she finally stopped sobbing made released such a load of dopamine as if seeing her happy fueled him like a drug.

“I’ll be back, I promise—so don’t cry,” He caressed her cheeks gently, wiping the tears away, glad that (Y/N) didn’t need eye makeup to feel pretty, she would’ve cried more if she knew how much of a mess she had become on him. “I’m only going to find my biological mother.” He said as she nodded and left to wipe her eyes. She gave him a bright smile before kissing his cheek and leading them to the buffet.

Though Jason was conflicted inside, his mind was telling him to stay with (Y/N). But his guts were telling him something else, to not go. To stay. He closed his eyes inhaling the sweet scent of marshmallow that engulfed him. Putting him in a state of bliss.

“I really do love you,” Jason Todd mentioned without thinking.

“I love you very much Jason Todd.”

He felt his breath hitch. Hearing the reply form her lips. Her tongue let them out so sweetly he had the urge to just take her on the wall but refrained to do such unsightly things in front of such a big crowd.

God (Y/N) was really going to be the death of him.

“Yeah, I’m in Ethiopia (Y/N),” Jason said to his phone. She sighed at the relief of knowing Jason was fine and safe. “So the two other ones weren’t your mom?” She asked sitting on the bed trying to pick an outfit to go out and hang out with her friends.

“Guess so?” Jason questioned as he went to the hotel.

“Jason, don’t just act on impulse  okay...” (Y/N) said on the other side of the phone. Pulling her hair up in a ponytail leaving strands of hair to form her face. “I want you coming back to me safely Jaybird.”

“When have I haven’t?” Jason teased the way she scolded him.

(Y/N) frowned at his teasing as her hand clenched her sheets looking at herself in the mirror before biting her lips gently. Looking at the way she had once again smudged her lips because of her own anxiety, (Y/N) decided to take it all off. She took tissue and decided to rub it all over her lips before hissing to the phone making Jason worry.

“(Y/N) you okay?” she heard his worry over the phone before she chuckled to herself letting him know she was all right. Looking down and seeing the blood on her napkin. Finally tasting the iron that laid on her lips. SHe only continued to listen to Jason’s Adventure and promised gifts. (Y/N) laughed along with the melody of her heartbeat as they both got lost in the sound of each other’s voice losing time gently to the messages and adventures they had experienced the day without the other.

“AH, damn it.” Jason abruptly said, making (Y/N) confused of what had happened. “Bruce! I told you not to follow me!” Jason exclaimed through the phone making (Y/N) giggle and Bruce furrowed his brows.

“Bruce is there?” she questioned.

“Hello (Y/N).” Bruce said from the other side of the phone with his usual solemn but charismatic voice.

“Hello Mr.Wayne!” (Y/N) said before putting on her shoes and going in her car.

“How are you—”

“Stop talking to my girlfriend!” Jason cut Bruce off taking the phone from his hand before looking at the ground embarrassingly.

“Gotta go Jay,” (Y/N) said.

“Yup bye (Y/N)!”

“Goodbye (Y/N)—” The phone beeped in (Y/N)’s ear as she giggled.

“Guys!” (Y/N) exclaimed seeing her friends sitting on the starbucks table.

“(Y/N)?” A deep voice from the other side of the phone said as (Y/N) let out a sigh. Jason hadn’t picked up the phone for hours.

What was going on with them?

“Bruce?” (Y/N) questioned letting her voice trial as the man behind the phone only replied with a broken hum.

“Where is Jason?”

“I’m sorry (Y/N), he wouldn’t listen to me—”

You let out a laugh as the apology sounded wholesome to her in some way, of course Jason wouldn’t listen to Bruce, when had he ever? Well, being in the suits were an exception—it was for his own good, to listen to what his mentor had to tell him.  “We both know Jason isn’t an obedient person Bruce, you don’t need to remind me again—anyways where is he?”

Bruce let out a sigh before sobs started escaping silently from the other line of the phone.

“I’m sorry (Y/N)...” Bruce trailed.

With a confused expression (Y/N) furrowed her brows in front of the other side of the phone.

“I couldn’t protect him...” Bruce continued.

“W-what do you mean?”

(Y/N) couldn’t believe it.

Protect? Her Jason Todd…. From what?

“Jason didn’t make it….”

There was no way.

“Make what?”

“He didn’t survive the bomb … I’m sorry (Y/N).”

What?

“W-what?”

“Bruce, you better stop joking about death because it’s not funny—”

Bruce had to be joking.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), this isn’t a joke.”

(e/c) eyes dilated as she reached for the tips of the hand that was holding the phone. Her breathing was ragged as a dark feeling filled her mind. Water filling the corner of her eyes dropping from her left eye, slowly the other eye followed. Before both came down tinting her cheeks in a flutter of waves. She clenched her chest in a desperate way to claw at her aching part that couldn’t stop stabbing her with a knife. Loud wails of sobs allerted her bodyguard before he went into the room ready with a gun to face the threat but was met with a whimpering young girl on the floor of her bed. To which he had to call her parents to come home to check on her. In which they thanked him as the bodyguard walked out of the scene. The phone turned off in an instant, as (Y/N) hugged her knees to your chest. A car stopped in front of her mansion before her parents came rushing into the room confused of why she was crying only to stay silent and hug her and soothe her with their chinese lullaby.

Jason was gone.

He died.

He promised to come back to her.

He lied.

With heavy breathing she stood in her bed with only a robe on as the thundering sound of the rain reached her ears. The storm wallowed like she did on this day. Time had passed so quickly it had now been six years since the death of her lover as she sighed.

The knock from her balcony door, confused her. She moved towards the camera to see who it was. A man with a dirty leather jacket stood behind her door as his eyes dilated around the floor. Looking nervous. She noticed the red bat symbol on his chest as she sighed. Another member of the batfam came to give her presents on the day of Jason’s death. Typical.

She opened the door expecting to see a new person before the realization on her face hit her.

It was him…

But how?

“Well that’s kinda a long story...” the man trailed lifting his head to her face as she could feel the confusion fill her face.

“What is a long story?”

“You asked ‘but how’ (Y/N).”

God even his voice was the same  as tears started to stream down her face once again.

A fluttering feeling filled her heart as she held his face in her palm. The stubble on his face tickled the skin of her palm. His hand reached up to hold her own small one that was caressing his cheek. God did Jason miss the feeling.

“H-How?”

“I told you it’s a long story,” He joked as (Y/N) pulled him inside with his coat, closing the door and trapping him in between her hands. Leaning up to his face. “Wow, desperate as always I see,” Jason teased, making her let out a small giggle.

“Annoying as always Jaybird,” she breathed out before crashing their lips in a blissful touch.

Her other half was there, they were finally back together as a piece.

What else could she ask for?

Jason pulled slightly at her nape, his lips desperately trying to mould together with hers as her fingers trailed into his hair, messing it up while he started to lick her bottom lip asking for access. She complied, pushing her body into Jason desperately trying to get more of him. Jason’s hand tangled in her own hair before slowly letting the ribbon in his finger tug at the string that was long before completely letting it untie. He traced his finger on her stomach caressing the skin making her moan in ecstacy before she started to pull him closer by the jacket.

Jason pulled apart from her the string of saliva connecting their tongues before she stepped back. She tugged his leather jacket off of his shoulder as he continued to take off the bulky armor underneath the leather. (Y/N)’s lip quirked upwards as she walked back slightly further away, her body illuminated by the moon’s light as (Y/N) slowly slid the material of her bathrobe down her shoulders before completely taking it off, showing him the underwear she was wearing. She walked back pulling him close again in a quick peck.

“God how I missed you (Y/N),” he spoke softly, making her giggle at his affection. “You don’t know what I’ve been through, first I was in a grave, then I was—” Jason was cut off by soft lips that connected with him. As he closed his eyes and once again trailed his hand on her body.

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

There he knew that she was definitely going to be the cause of his second death. For she was what he wished to see before his first death. She was what he asked for in his grave. What he had screamed for when his hands held the green water. The driving factor of his need to be stronger.

The flame that he shared with her, the flame of love.

Her name was (Y/N) (L/N) and Jason knew that the girl in his arms was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his second chance of life with.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #dc #batman #x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #dc comics fanfic #jason todd oneshot #robin #robin x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #dc x y/n #dc x reader #first post #first fanfic

[ladyoutlier]

Here Today Gone Tomorrow

In which Aziraphale and Crowley are tasked with making a human.

[Read on AO3] | [Chapter 1]

Chapter 2: An Angel and Demon’s Offspring

Rain poured heavily on the shingled roof of the quaint little cottage Aziraphale and Crowley had miracled for themselves. It was a huge stand-out from the rest of Eden with its English aesthetic greatly contrasting the surrounding jungle. However, this was hardly a concern to either of them. Just because they had to take on the role of Adam and Eve didn’t mean that they had to live in the dirt like them. Both the angel and the demon had spent quite enough time doing that in the millennia before proper civilization occurred. And plus, the cottage reminded them of a time they were no longer in.

Crowley was sprawled out on the nice king-sized bed he had summoned for himself when Aziraphale entered the room carrying tea for the two of them. Crowley shuffled to one side of the bed, and Aziraphale sat down on the now vacant side. The angel handed him a cup.

“Quite the day. And here I thought nothing could outdo the past few ones in regards to exertion.“ A rather prominent frown developed onto Aziraphale’s face.

“Definitely makes the top ten of worst days.”

Rain plattered at the window. The two sipped their tea. Sitting inside they could almost pretend everything was normal. That they were in London, and the city was slowly falling asleep for the evening. That outside there were streets and people and Crowley’s Bentley was parked on the curb and that it was just another normal night for the both of them. Ah, but neither of them were good at fooling themselves, especially when the other was involved.

“Do you really think the Almighty has tasked us with bringing humanity into the world?” Aziraphale asked. “I don’t know about you, but I have absolutely no idea how to accomplish that.”

“We’ll figure it out as we go,” Crowley replied. “Try to miracle some clay into a person. If God hasn’t granted us the power to do that, well She’s got no one to blame except Herself for the lack of humans on the planet this go about.”

“Adam and Eve went about it a rather different way.”

“They were also human by default and thus had the proper genetics to accomplish that. Don’t think angel plus demon equals human.” Crowley tried desperately to avoid looking Aziraphale in the eyes which he was quite successful at because the angel too was avoiding his.

“Oh, um, I wasn’t suggesting that. I was merely speculating out loud.” Aziraphale took a long sip of tea which was strangely a lot more alcoholic now.

“Course. Just a conversation of what ifs. Nothing more.”

Another silence. The rain picked up. Not by a lot. Just enough to be noticable. A small rumble of thunder echoed from somewhere far away. The golden light inside the cottage was becoming very cosy. Aziraphale set his drink down on the nightstand and laid down as Crowley was.

“If we ever see the world the way it was again, I wouldn’t mind residing in a cottage like this. It would be a nice change of scenery from the bookshop,” the angel said rather dreamily. 

His alcohol/tea hybrid was taking effect much more quickly than anticipated as if it had divine influences to do so. God smiled to Herself as She sipped from Her wine glass.

“Mmhmm,” Crowley muttered, eyes rolling to see Aziraphale. Without his sunglasses on, it was quite difficult to not notice his added attention. “Yes, would be rather charming. I could see you enjoying the country life. Where would you want to go?”

“Not just me. I think I’d like you to be there too, Crowley.”

That was a brave, blunt remark that was most certainly pushed out of Aziraphale by his drink. That’s not to mean that he hadn’t meant it. He did. It would’ve just taken him a few more thousand years to say it on his own. Still, it was more than a surprise to Crowley. Now, who was going too fast?

“Oh, well, um, yes.” The demon’s eyes widened, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Where would we go then?”

“South Downs is quite lovely. Calming and natural like this. Does that mean you’d actually go with me? I know you’re fond of the city life.”

“Angel, if we ever get things back the way they were, I’d go to the moon and back with you. Might even do that anyway.”

Aziraphale’s blue eyes stared into Crowley’s golden ones. The soft, little smile on his lips was warm enough to melt a glacier. The demon was very glad he was already lying down. Strangely, this day didn’t seem so bad anymore.

“I’ll hold you to that. The moon and back,” Aziraphale replied. “Would be exciting to get off planet.”

“Personally,” Crowley said, flipping onto his back. “I think you’re plenty of excitement on your own.”

If the raindrops became a bit fatter after that, it was only because God was crying. It was a happy sort of cry one only has when their ship finally begins to properly sail. No more sandy reefs for the ship to get beached on. No more last minute trips to the dock. Just full on open sea sailing. Aziraphale and Crowley were finally on their way to be properly shipped, and God was glad.

*

The next morning, Aziraphale and Crowley found a fruit bowl filled to the brim with apples on their countertop. It was not something that either of them had put there, and neither of them were gullible enough to believe the other had. Crowley simply rolled his eyes, picked up the whole bowl, and tossed it out the kitchen window.

“Is he even trying?” Crowley asked, taking a seat at the small dining table at which Aziraphale was eating a pastry.

“Maybe his heart’s not in it. It’s hardly a passion project to do a job that has already been done.”

“Yeah, but I mean, live a little. Throw the apples into a pie or something. Try the poor old woman tactic from Snow White. Hastur really has no creativity.”

Aziraphale finished the last bite of his breakfast and wiped his face. “Yes, well, creativity is one of your best attributes, my dear.”

“‘S really not, but it is a useful one.” He leaned back in his chair. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Thought we’d try your turn clay into people plan as I don’t have any better ideas.”

“It’s not going to work.”

“Likely. But at least it’ll be fun. Similar to making a snowman.”

“Alright then. Let’s go have some fun.”

It was another beautiful day in Eden. A bit on the windy side, but other that that, absolutely lovely. A hundred thousand leaves rustled away in the trees above, and a million different species of birds sang serenades to each other. If one didn’t know just how barren and white Heaven was, one could easily be tricked into believing that Eden was it. Aziraphale and Crowley stood in front of a small riverbank.

“Angel,” Crowley said, freeing himself from the mud which was acting more like quicksand than wet dirt. “Don’t really feel like getting my hands dirty, and I think neither of us are ones for ruining good clothes. Can’t we just draw a face in the mud and be done with it?”

“Nonsense! This was your suggestion after all.”

“Was mostly a joke.”

“And we hardly need to use our hands.” The angel miracled a shovel into being. “Even if this is a rather fruitless endeavor, I still want to give it my all to, at the very least, let the Almighty know that we’re trying.”

Aziraphale began to dig up mud, stacking it into a rather messy column. It looked more like a monster from a cheesy 1950s American horror flick than a human, but the angel continued to work at it anyway. Seeing that Aziraphale was dedicated to this, Crowley grumbled to himself. There were a million other things he’d rather be doing, but all of them involved Aziraphale being there as well. He cocked his head to the side. Guess this is what they were doing today. He miracled himself a set of sculptor’s tools.

*

Their clothes had gotten more than a bit dirty by the time they were done. Mud and river water practically soaked them. Although both Aziraphale and Crowley had no need to sweat, they both felt like they had done quite a lot of it. But they had gotten their human sculpture done, and the time was hardly past noon.

The body of the sculpture was a bit pudgy but also rather lean, and looked neither obviously male or female as if the person could fall either way if they so chose. They stood shorter than both Aziraphale and Crowley, looking as though they were just coming of age. Their face had a rather contrasting mixture of features. A sharp jawline and cheekbones, but pouty lips and an upturned nose. Their hair was a fury of curls with wisps of straight locks thrown in. And their eyes remained a mystery, shut to the whole world.

If perhaps, the angel and demon had modeled their parts of the sculpture off one another, they certainly were silent about it. Still the resemblance to the both of them was extremely clear. The sculpture was a perfect blend of the two of them, and God definitely noticed. Mostly because She had begun to sober up.

“So what? On the count of three try to bring it to life? That really what we’re going to do?” Crowley asked.

“Well, yes,” Aziraphale admitted rather sheepishly. “Does sound silly when you put it like that.”

“Because it is silly. Would get us both thrown in the looney bin if society still existed.”

“Even if this doesn’t work—”

“Which it very likely isn’t.”

“—I’m still happy to have made this with you. Turned out rather well I think.”

“Just glad it turned out better than Warlock’s Year 1 arts and crafts projects.”

“I hope we would do better than a six-year-old.”

“Oh, your hopes are too high for us,” Crowley replied with a laugh.

“Are they? This may not be on Michelangelo’s level of quality, but he would hardly scoff at what we’ve done.”

“Eh, that’s true enough.”

“On three then?”

“Yeah. One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

The angel and the demon both thought incredibly hard about bringing the mud person in front of them to life. They threw their hands forward, commanding the sculpture to move, walk, breathe, anything. And with the power of Heaven and Hell combined, absolutely nothing happened which was entirely unsurprising.

“Can’t say we didn’t try. Up for lunch, angel?” Crowley asked, letting his arms fall back down to his sides.

“I can’t say I thought it would be this easy. Why don’t you head back, Crowley. Give me a moment and then we’ll have lunch.”

The demon shot him a quizzical look. He took a few steps backwards. A small smile flickered nervously on the corner of his mouth before quickly disappearing. “Alright, yeah. I’ll be back at the cottage.”

“I won’t be long.”

“Course. Take your time.”

Crowley strode off into the wilderness. Aziraphale watched him go until the plant life completely obscured him. The angel released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and approached the river. A fallen tree laid across it as a bridge. He merely crossed half of it and sat down, his feet dangling inches above the rushing water.

“Um, Lord,” he began. “I know my attempts to talk to You didn’t go too well last time. Found myself talking to Your secretary rather than Yourself. But given the circumstances, I thought I’d try again. I hope You don’t mind the less than professional air to the whole situation.”

Aziraphale waited for a reply, but got none. Still, God was listening.

“Ah, yes, well. Perhaps this whole sculpture idea was rather foolish. Not at all what You wanted from us. And I really do not want to inconvenience You, but I’m at a rather large loss for how to do what You wish.”

Again he left room for a reply from God without the need to.

“As much as I would love to be able to create a person with Crowley, I just don’t believe it is possible with the restraints You have given us. Only You can create a new being after all. Angels and demons, we can only influence them. Crowley and I would just quite like to be able to get back to our lives...”

Together. It was a word Aziraphale didn’t say out loud, but God heard it anyways. The entire riverbank became a bit warmer. The sun shone a bit brighter. The flora spruced up. All small changes one could easily miss. If one was not an angel, that is.

“I—I see. Yes, um, good talk. Thank you.” He stood up rather clumsily from the log. It was simply a miracle that he didn’t fall into the river (actually it was two, but God didn’t feel the need to let him know that).

As Aziraphale walked away to meet up with Crowley, God lifted the sculpture from the river bank and brought it into the ethereal plane with Her. She smiled at Her creations’ creation. Mimicry was the biggest form of flattery. She loved the human the angel and demon had made. Sure, it wasn’t alive, but care and love most certainly lived within it. God tucked its design away with everything else that had ever existed for safe keeping. Maybe there would come a day when She would need it.

Some of Crowley’s modern music led Aziraphale back to the cottage. The demon could not go a day without his tunes, and now with all of Eden to themselves, he could blast them at max volume without the irritation of bothered neighbors and passersby. Their annoyance wasn’t a problem to him. Rather it was their need to bug him about the volume that was. More tasking than the evil was worth.

As Aziraphale approached, “I Want To Break Free” by Queen played:

But life still goes on

I can't get used to living without, living without

Living without you by my side

I don't want to live alone, hey

God knows, got to make it on my own

Aziraphale found himself to the kitchen where Crowley was currently pouring two glasses of red wine. On the island sat a plate of sandwiches made of grilled steak, sauteed onions, and ciabatta bread.

“I don’t know about you,” Crowley said, handing the angel a glass. “But making a mud man really worked up an appetite.”

“Oh, Crowley, you made this?”

“No, I figured out how to make humans when you were gone, and one of them so happened to be a chef. Course I made this. Well, miracled it, but same thing.”

“That’s a real generous thing to do.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t go all mushy on me. We planned on lunch, and it wasn’t just going to show up itself. Kept me busy while waiting for you to catch up.” The demon picked up a sandwich a munched into it.

“Still, I very much appreciate it.”

Before Aziraphale could take a sandwich for himself, the front door swung open, and the familiar face of Archangel Gabriel walked in.

“I came down here to put a stop to the awful noise, but, uh, I see there’s a much bigger issue to address here,” he said, marching into the kitchen.

“Sandwich, Gabriel?” Crowley sneered, taking another bite of his.

“As if I’d take anything a demon offered me, much less gross matter.” The flame from his sword glowed rather brightly from his waist. “There’s an issue with the use of miracles down here. I mean, a whole house? Really? Where’s the justification for that?”

“It did rain last night,” Aziraphale replied.

“So? Don’t see me abusing miracles to get out of it. It’s only water. You’re supposed to be Adam and Eve. At what point did they live in a cottage that I missed?”

“You did say to make improvements, so we did.” Crowley flashed the Archangel a rather wide grin.

“Yes, improvements for the greater good. Not—” He closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath. “I don’t know why I’m arguing with a demon on this. Obviously this kind of behavior is expected from you.” He looked back to the angel. “I just thought there was something left of you, Aziraphale. Sure, you screwed up the End of the World, but there had to be a reason you haven’t Fallen yet. I’m starting to think that it’s just an oversight.”

“Oh, I’d back off real quick, Archangel.” Crowley swept around the island. “You’ll find I don’t put up with your pretentious bullshit the way Aziraphale does.”

“I think you’re forgetting who has a sword here and who doesn’t.” Gabriel chuckled, seemingly unfazed by Crowley’s threat.

“Oh, you can’t hurt us. In fact, I don’t think you have any authority to tell us to do anything. Your job is to guard the Eastern Gate. Not interfere with Adam and Eve.”

“Uh, yeah. Actually, this whole Earth thing might have to go on hold for now. Busy working real hard to get Micheal out of Hell.”

“Wait, Micheal’s in Hell?” Aziraphale asked.

“Thought your demon’s friend would’ve informed you on that after he so smugly informed me about it on the Wall. We are in negotiations right now. We both have people we’d like to see returned to their rightful side.”

“Like Beelzebub,” Crowley replied, leaning back against the island. His eyes remained rather narrowed behind his sunglasses.

“Our main negotiating point. Should really be an easy swap. Of course, when dealing with Hell everything gets complicated.”

“Oh yeah, sure everything’s so smooth Upstairs.”

“As if you have any clue, demon. You haven’t been up there in over 6000 years. Not sure I’d trust your memory.” Gabriel gave a squinty eyed smile. “You know what, both of you run amuck down here. Ruin it if you want. You’re the ones stuck down here. I’ve got a meeting I need to attend to in Heaven, so go wild. Just don’t blame me when the Almighty strikes you both down for your dismal performances.”

Without waiting for a reply, Gabriel left the cottage. A bright white light glowed from the front door and soon after faded, signalling that the Archangel was gone.

“Well, that was something,” Crowley said. “Sandwiches have probably gone cold, but there’s still plenty to have, angel.”

“Ah, yes, lunch,” Aziraphale replied, remembering exactly what they had been doing.

“Yeah, lunch. Couldn’t the bastard have at least waited half an hour before bothering us?”

“I think it was your music that drew him here.” The angel took a sandwich and bit into it. The center was still miraculously warm. God pretended not to notice that.

“Mental note: all it takes to piss off the Archangel Gabriel is loud music. Oh that’s a weakness he really shouldn’t have shown me.”

“I’m sure you’ll make good use of it, dear.”

“You bet I will.”

Aziraphale scoffed and smiled through a mouthful of lunch. It was a goofy look that made Crowley smile back. He was happy the angel was enjoying the food he had made even if it was little more than a snap of his fingers. This whole snippet of a domestic life was quite nice, and made the demon think back on last night’s conversation. Yes, if the world was ever restored, he’d like to live like this with Aziraphale. But in the meantime, this would do nicely.

[Chapter 3]

#Good Omens #Gomens #Ineffable Husbands #Good Omens fic #my writing

[mrneighbourlove]

Into the Dark and Unknown: Ch 2. Sweet Mother, Sweet Mother...

Malik was a one-man walking armour, filled with magic. He packed heavily, yet could carry lightly. Leere had a single brief case along with her usual traveling attire. She had a note book for study, and a dress in her suit case if a more formal occasion arises.

Together, the two said goodbyes and went to meet Bonegrinder back within the Hive.

"Bonegrinder is this way, follow me." Silver was the one to fetch them this time. The sisters were working and could not be disturbed in their laboratory. He tromped down one of the private tunnels which Bonegrinder used for his magic. Then he waited outside the doorway, not caring for the master's darker tastes. "He's in there."

Malik stayed behind Leere to make sure the Princess was flanked. He didn’t much trust the dog. Hell, he didn’t trust anyone, but at least the sisters and Red were just lustful. These others simply were murderous.

Bonegrinder's library of magic was, for lack of better word, morbid. There were multiple body parts of various species in jars on the shelves, potions from every back alley of the allied kingdoms, old textbooks thrown about the tables, and burning candles dripping wax on to the floor. The most eerie part of it all were the skulls hanging from the ceiling. Skulls of his kind and other Echidans.

Leere had a more uncomfortable frown, but otherwise didn’t mind. This was her life. Death was ever present.

Malik was once more glad to wear a helmet, able to hide his visible disgust and keep a steady voice. “Bonegrinder. We are here.”

"Hmm-hmm..." Bonegrinder was drawing on the stone wall with his finger. It was a mixture of blood and magic. Muttering under his breath, the Anagari made sure the symbols were correct and then slithered over to Malik first. "Your finger, please."

Malik took the glove off his left arm of flesh, presenting his hand for Bonegrinder to prick.

Without hesitating, Bonegrinder pricked the man's finger with one of his claws and then added the small drop of blood to the bowl. Then, he approached Leere.

"Sorry, tiny princess, but this old snake needs one drop of blood, please."

Leere was plenty use to letting her blood be pumped out. With a nod, she offered her hand.

Bonegrinder was a touch gentler with Leere's finger than Malik's. Once he had the blood, he started chanting in Echidnan. The ring of blood started to shine and then there was a loud hum. One by one, pieces of stone inside the ring started to vanish, revealing a portal. A pathway was before the three of them, leading to the Temple of Ruin where the Mother of the Monsters resided.

“A portal? Clever.” Malik watched closely. That would certainly save time traveling.

Grabbing his small bag, Bonegrinder was the first to slither through the portal. He gestured for Malik and Leere to follow him. Once everyone was safely through on the other side, he closed it with a snap of his fingers. The air in Omisha was fresh and crisp. There was nothing but jungle for miles on end.

"Mother is expecting us." Bonegrinder told Leere and Malik. "He sent her a message announcing our arrival. Mother is curious, wondering if you two are like the pretty blonde prince. However, Bonegrinder needs to educate you both on Echidnan 'manners' as you would call it."

Malik and Leere nodded to Bonegrinders instructions. The air was clear, almost no plague of industry in the sky. Leere almost wished she could explore the country’s landscape some mr

The road to the Temple of Ruin was actually quite beautiful. It was full of lush trees and blooming flowers. The actual temple was a different story. It was covered in vines, skeletons, and moss on the outside with a foreboding presence. Two massive vats of oil were burned outside the entrance. There were no need for guards or soldiers to protect the Mother who lived within.

"Only three simple rules for you to follow," Bonegrinder instructed as he led them inside the temple. "Firstly, you must bow when you see her and keep your gaze to the ground unless she gives you permission to stand. Don't give her the impression that you're arrogant. She won't like it." The temperature in the temple dropped suddenly, chilly and spine tingling. "Second, it is unwise to question her. She does not like it when others try to condescend her. If you have a question, ask permission to ask it." There were two large doors awaiting the trio and with a deep breath, the Anagari then pushed them open to reveal the grand hall. "Lastly, no matter how much you feel the urge, do. Not. Scream. Bite your tongue if you must. If you scream, and she senses fear from you... she will kill you."

Malik found the beauty of the area serene, up until he he saw the first bodies. Amongst one of them, he recognized a fatter uniform of a guardsmen of Al-Daida. It appeared the danger itself was true. But for what reason did his death come about? The change in air made him more angry than afraid. It made him feel like his old self. “Of course Bonegrinder. I’ve bowed in the presence of other monarchies before.”

Leere’s lips slightly cringed at the bodies and smell of oil. These people did not suffer quick deaths, she simply could tell at a glance. She gave Bonegrinder a light nod at his instructions. She hoped that coming her wouldn’t be a mistake.

The grand hall was not lit with torches. There was very little light at all. Then again, most monsters here could see in the dark so it was not necessary to have light. The only source was from a tiny stream in the roof. It illuminated only a small portion of the throne. Thick vines were swirled around the columns, stabilizing parts of broken stone. On all the walls, there were elaborate carvings, depicting stories across thousands of years. Yet, there was only one ruler during the centuries... the Mother. It seemed Bonegrinder was not lying when he said that the Mother of the Monsters was ancient, more so than him.

While there were no guards outside the walls, there were a few monsters lurking inside of the temple. Only their eyes were visible from the shadows. Growls, warbles, and trills exploded throughout the temple when Leere and Malik came into view. It was obvious that the visitors here were not exactly welcome. Humans, any humans, man, woman, or child, were seen as the enemy.

Stopping at the end of the pathway, Bonegrinder then placed on hand over his chest and outstretched the other arm, lowering his head. He said not one word, yet cleared his throat, urging Leere and Malik to do the same. She was there... in the dark.

Malik was the first to take a knee, giving a bow of his head.

Leere gave a more elegant bow, custom of her training of from Zelda. She could feel a deep presence in the darkness. They both could.

"Your little pets have manners, Modoc." A soothing voice echoed from the shadows. "You've trained them well."

"Thank you, Mother," Bonegrinder kept his position, not moving one muscle. "A princess of Hyrule and a commander seeks passageway."

"Where to?"

"One wishes to go to Malus."

"How unfortunate."

"The other wishes to explore customs here."

"Oh? Like the pretty blonde prince you brought to me once?" Then there was a laugh. "He was most amusing."

"He still is."

"And tell me, princess, commander..." Mother asked from the darkness, only her red eyes visible. "Why should I allow you to travel my home? Distress my children?"

"Don't move." Bonegrinder whispered to Leere and Malik. "She's moving."

“Yet your mother addresses us Bonegrinder.” Malik spoke calmly. He felt more at ease given his centuries around dark and ancient beings. There was something... eerily familiar about her presence resonating from the dark. “I am here to learn about your country. Many fear you. Rumours of terrifying monstrous needed to be eradicated. I for one, have found myself on the side of monsters. I wish to form my own opinion of you. I am a Lord of Hyrule now, not simply a commander anymore. I represent Hyrule’s ideals.”

"A talker, this one." There was movement behind them. Then in front. To one side, then the other. There was no way to keep track of where she was. "A lord who is interested in the affairs of monsters. Tell me, what if we wish to keep this story of fearsome, man-eating monsters alive? To protect ourselves?" The movement stopped and a question lingered. "And why should I trust you? Or even the princess for that matter?"

“Because having an ally in your corner is beneficial. A friend even. Hyrule could help you.” Malik kept his head down, his breathing steady.

Leere felt what she could only describe as a growing tick on her back being here. “I don’t believe in harming those who won’t bring harm to me.”

"You say this... but what about the other humans there? You truly cannot speak for all of them. After all," A whoosh of air brushed past the trio and suddenly there she was. Mother was far larger than Bonegrinder, even more so intimidating. Her body was not like Bonegrinder's, White's, or Blue's. She was not composed of a single type like the children. No, she was just like the sisters described... many. The legs of a centipede covered her scaled snake body until the exoskeleton of the scorpion tail came into view. On her back, crocodile flesh covered her skin for protection. Yet, her face was absolutely stunning. She was beautiful, with jet black hair cascading over her eight eyes... spider eyes and spider mandibles. "The humans always scream when they see me."

Malik and Leere both looked on in wonder. Both had seen so many horrors in their lives, so many Erdrich sights. Mother was a brand-new wonder. Her appearance was indeed monstrous, but she also held beauty in her appearance.  In short, she was pure Nature.

“You’re a marvel.” Leere spoke.

“... I’ve never seen anything like you.” Was what Malik responded with.

"... interesting." Mother then turned her attention to Bonegrinder. "I suppose you gave them a fair warning, didn't you?"

"... as best as he could, Mother. To describe you is trying to formulate new words."

"These two don't amuse me like the pretty prince, but are intriguing enough." Mother leaned down to look at Leere first. "A princess of Hyrule who hails from Malus..." Then she looked at Malik. "And an undead commander turned flesh." The Mother then simply plucked off Malik's helmet to get a better look at him. "Fascinating... from death to life."

Malik’s hair was short and bright red, his skin a light brown. He looked younger than even Ralnor. “I’ve lived longer than any man I know.”

"Not as long as me, little man." Mother then ran a clawed finger through his hair. "Hmm... you are right about this foreign queen. Her magic is old. Just a touch difference... more so benevolent than ours." Switching her gaze to Leere, those eight eyes blinked one by one, examining the princess. "Though you... you are seeped in dark magic like our kind, princess. You escaped from Malus... why go back to where there is nothing but death?" She chuckled lightly, flexing the mandibles. "Even the Mortuus know not to associate with us. If you wish to learn, why not pick up a book? Does Hyrule not have knowledge of the old creation of Dhakk?" She tilted her head. "The Destroyer God had many creations... Malus and Omisha were two of them."

Leere shook her head. “Hyrule has no history on such gods. So we have no history of Malus or Omisha.”

"Ah, so that's why you want to go." The Mother arrived at her own conclusion. "To seek the knowledge of the deities, to find out where your people come from, and how you all will ultimately play a role in Kaksa's grand plan." She outstretched her arms in a grand gesture. "To see if this prophecy will be fulfilled! After so many years, it will be a wonder to see what Kaksa's divine strategy will mean for us all." She then added, "Though it is strange to me, that humans know nothing of these old deities, our Maker, our Destroyer, and our Balance. Have they forgotten?"

Malik shook his head. “The only gods I give any mind to are the three Golden Goddesses, Hylia, And Demise. They held sway over my life, as well as the history of this world.”

Leere quickly interjected. “We’ve come to learn of other deities, yet we’ve never learned of a God of Destruction or Balance. Are they perhaps holding origin in Malus and Omisha Mother?”

"Spoken like a true human," Mother smiled, most eerily, showing all her rows of jagged teeth to Malik. "Those goddesses loved to cause mischief with humans and yet, the humans still pay tribute to her. How odd, causing so much strife with Hylia and Demise, and even pulling their child into the matter with them. Poor little thing, reincarnated every generation, just like them..." She sighed and then flicked her wrist to the walls around them. "If you wish for history, princess, it is written all over our walls. However, speaking of history..." Once more she leaned down to look at both Leere and Malik, "Modoc mentioned you have your tribute of goodwill... I am curious to see what humans will present to the Mother of the Monsters."

Both Leere and Malik shot a glance at Bonegrinder. They came to similar impressions that the Mother would ask them of a specific tribute. Not that they’d hold a gift.

Thinking quickly and wisely, Malik used his magic to conjure a specific helmet. A dark and worn helmet, he offered it to Mother. “This is headwear I was born into undeath with. It is a symbol of aggression, passion, hatred, but also protection and the beginning of a long shell to transform back into life. I offer this symbol to you.”

The Mother then gave a small laugh but took the helmet to inspect it.

"Ah, humans pay tribute with gifts... I was thinking more of the Echidnan way." The Mother traced a claw over the metal. "Echidnans pay tribute with the sharing of a memory. It deems whether you are worthy or not. Say to earn our trust. I assume Modoc did not elaborate on this."

"Mother, humans give gifts as tribute, please allow them to stick with this custom---"

Bonegrinder was not able to finish for Mother swatted him across the temple with her tail with a snarl.

"I did not ask for your opinion, Modoc. You'd do well to hold your tongue."

"How nice of you to agree." Mother then outstretched her hand. "Choose a memory you deem to show you are trustworthy. That will show me that you mean no harm to us. However, know if this is a plan to fool me, you will not leave this place... alive."

Bonegrinder groaned, shifting slightly from the pile of rubble. Mother's temper surely had not changed over the years. She still hated it when he spoke out of turn. Even though she knew he could not die due to his cursed magic, it did not mean Mother would hesitate to put him in his place.

"Ouch..." Bonegrinder reached up to notice a piece of his horn was missing. "... hm... he deserved that."

For Malik, he choice the memory of letting the ghost of Cipher go. Shortly after his son’s birth, he saw her one last time. She smiled bright for a ghost. Told him that his child was beautiful. The child that she always wanted. That she’d live in him, in Revan, and his future children. He told her that he loved her, and to go be at peace. She agreed, knowing that he finally found salvation.

When Leere gave a memory to share, she shared a darker memory. She was ready to kill herself after the War of Fire. She given a terrible fate to a squad of Hasai Elite in order to save the lives of countless innocents. That didn’t stop the fact she felt like a true monster. Maybe she was. Then with a knock at her door, she was given salvation in the form of her sister and mother. They reminded her on who she fought for. Who saw her as human and gave her chance for life. She viewed human connection as the greatest reward on the planet.

Mother's magic flowed through both Malik and Leere, allowing her to view the memory as if it were her own. She could feel their emotions, share their pain, and sense the joy or despair. It was an intimate experience, yet also provided knowledge. With this simple spell, Mother could understand the hearts of those foreign to her land, to view whether their intentions were malicious or benevolent. All eight of her eyes glowed a shade of purple before returning to the usual red. The Mother of the Monsters appeared to be perplexed but also intrigued.

"One memory of despair turned joy, and another of darkness to light..." Mother's centipede legs tapped against the flower in curiosity as she tried to gather her thoughts. "Personal, thoughtful, and life-changing experiences for both of you."

“We hope that you found them satisfactory.” Malik bowed his head again. He wondered what else this being would want.

"Satisfactory and intriguing." Mother admitted to the pair. "Modoc, you have brought me two very, very unique pets."

"Mmm-mmm." Bonegrinder was slowly slithering back to Leere and Malik. He was holding the piece of his broken horn and fixing his jaw back into place. "That they are, Mother."

"You do understand that this is simply passageway for *you*." Mother told the princess and commander. "Not to agree to terms of alliance. Humans are tricky, sneaky, and vile creatures who will stab others in the back as long as it is beneficial for them to do so. If your objective is an alliance, there will have to be much discussion..."

Malik rose his head to face her. “Then let me see what Al-Daida fears. Perhaps I can direct them away from you.”

"Al-Daida and their..." Mother released a loud snarl, enough for her spider mandibles to twitch. "Slave ring. Many, many times they have attempted to capture our young and sell them. And each and every time, we have eaten them." She then stated in an icy tone. "Only the foolish ones or desperate try."

Leere frowned. In her travels to Al-Daida herself, she was once cornered by slavers. Had it not been for friend, they might have taken her. “I’m sorry to hear that. May we meet your people? I’m sure your son would like to recover. And I would love to see more of your country.”

"Oh, princess, my people?" Mother tried to hide her amusement to no avail. "My children, my 'people' as you say, have been here the entire time. My beautiful darlings are shy, see... they prefer the dark." The Mother of the Monsters then said, almost endearingly, "Aren't you going to say hello, my pretty ones?"

Skittering. Tapping. Low warbles and growls echoed off the walls. There were eyes all around them, already any darkness left in the shadows. The glow of the irises outlined many monstrous faces. Rumors of the monsters being few were greatly exaggerated... there were... hundreds of them.

Leere nodded, feeling her leg suddenly start to fall asleep. “I see... may I stand and introduce myself?”

"You may," Mother nudged Leere with her large coils and then did the same to Malik. "While you have convinced me of your pure intentions, be warned. You will be watched. No matter if you think you're alone or not."

Leere smiled, looking at the eyes on her in the dark. “My name is Leere Dragmire. It’s a pleasure to meet all of you. Don’t be afraid to come closer if you wish.”

Malik gave Mother a bow and looked to Bonegrinder. He needed to know exactly what kind of monsters these were if he were to lay judgement on them.

"Be polite, old commander," Bonegrinder told Malik in hushed tones. "These are Mother's children, her precious ones..." The Anagari knew that Malik was not stupid. While Mother herself was formidable, there were always others at her side, even if it did not seem like it. Her most precious ones... her most dangerous ones, as the Anagari insinuated. "Deadly treasures..."

“Deadly indeed. I can feel that in the very air.” Malik kept an eye on Leere, unsure how she was able to keep her cool.

"Humans."

"Filthy humans."

"Why are they here?"

"Are there more?"

"Why did Mother allow this?"

"Bonegrinder is with them."

"Are they his pets?"

"At least the female is pretty."

"What is Mother thinking?"

"Are we to have humans here now?"

"What's going on, what's changing?"

"My precious ones, trust your mother..." The Mother of the Monsters soothed her children. "They are simply here to seek passage to Malus and to learn of us. No war, no fighting, no threat... after all, how can they be a threat if we could simply eat them?"

"True."

"Mother is right."

"No threat here."

"Humans are filthy but so easy to kill."

"We will watch them."

"Closely, closely."

At least now Malik had an idea of why the 'hive' was called thus so and why the sisters spoke nearly in unison.

"This here," Mother placed her large hands on Leere's shoulders. "Is a princess of Hyrule. She has been friends with your brother Modoc for a long, long time."

"Friends?"

"Odd, he usually eats them."

"Why spare this one?"

"Maybe she's a good fuck."

"He usually goes after tail anyway."

"And this here..." Mother then moved to Malik, noticing the hair standing on the back of his neck. She gave a little chuckle. "Is a lord of Hyrule. He and Modoc once fought, but as you can see that was a slight misunderstanding and all parties are forgiven. Won't you say 'hi', little lord?"

“Good afternoon. I am Lord Malik. A Gerudo.”

Leere felt a strong, positive reaction in her body she couldn’t explain as the Mother laid her hands on her shoulders. Good lord she was tall when she was so close. The comment of being merely a good fuck for Bonegrinder made her lips slightly frown, but those thoughts were almost immediately thrown out the longer Mother kept her hands on her.

"Gerudo! Ganondorf!"

"Demise!"

"Stories of old, it cannot be true."

"The Gerudo are dead, long gone."

"The Garai and Gerudo, twin tribes, still alive?"

"Perhaps, but perhaps not."

"True or not?"

"Looks it."

"Smells it."

"Yet, is not Ganondorf."

"Male, but not him."

"Magic has touched him."

"... Lorleidian magic."

"Ancient ones."

"Like us."

"Now, now, my children, excited are you?" Mother chuckled. "These are our guests for now, so no eating. We will see what they have to offer."

“Ganondorf is my cousin. And Demise... I suppose his curse was mine to help bear with Ganondorf.”

Leere kept her thoughts to herself, but shot Malik one little comment. “A life of hatred can run deep.”

The lord looked at her, narrowing his gaze. “Yes. It can.”

"Hatred is one thing, though fear and distrust is another." Mother then ordered Bonegrinder. "Take care of our guests, Modoc. I am curious to see whether or not they retain their pure intentions."

"Yes, Mother."

"And my precious ones, do make sure to control yourselves. The humans are not snacks."

“I know I look scrumptious, but I’m not for eating.” Leere hoped that they’d enjoy dry humour.

"I think the proper word to use is 'voluptuous', princess." Mother disappeared into the darkness once more behind her throne. "Be sure to return in the morning and I will answer questions you pose then."

Once she left, Bonegrinder led Leere and Malik out of the temple and gave a deep sigh of relief.

"That went as well as this old snake thought it would."

“The Mother was less monstrous then you lead me to believe... Modoc.” Malik spoke Bonegrinder’s true name with a hint of snark. Maybe it was a pet name. “I thought her child would be more respectful.”

Leere gave Malik a glare. “Well, Klinge, I think Modoc is a fine name.”

Bonegrinder growled loudly and leaned down right in Malik's face, showing his teeth.

"He. Is. Not. Her. Son." The Anagari was so agitated, his scales were flexing upward. "And he is not 'Modoc', he is Bonegrinder." He huffed and then turned to Leere. "This way, tiny princess. Omisha is not meant for guests, though he will find us suitable quarters."

Malik placed his helmet back over his head, tightening its straps. “Then we can agree on that our former names will not be used.”

Leere walked with Bonegrinder in silence for a while. “I’m sorry she hurt you.”

"That is Mother in a good mood, tiny princess." Bonegrinder used a touch of magic to reattach the broken piece of his horn. "Last time she was angry with him, he got this." He pointed to the large scar running all the way across his chest.

"Hers is harder to heal. She is of the darkness like him."

"That is Mother in a good mood, tiny princess." Bonegrinder used a touch of magic to reattach the broken piece of his horn. "Last time she was angry with him, he got this." He pointed to the large scar running all the way across his chest.

"Hers is harder to heal. She is of the darkness like him."

Her bare hand pressed against his chest. She tried to feel out the scar best she could, but it was old and run its course long ago. “Still doesn’t make it right. And you’re my friend, so don’t say I shouldn’t have to worry.”

Malik watched the two closely. Their relationship was rather curious, if not a bit disturbing. Leere always felt like an outsider to him. Hell, she was sometimes left out of most recent document royal family history, only to be corrected in a second draft. The ‘Princess’ was the one ‘child’ of Ganondorf he never connected with. Even Rinku he could respect and held history with. To shake his mind of his thoughts of her, he turned his attention to the wildlife. “I wonder how advanced this land is.”

"Hrm, Mother knows Bonegrinder cannot die but still finds ways to punish him if he makes her angry. That was the one time he had to tell her 'no'. She did not take it well." The Anagari led the two down a dirt pathway. Along the way, there were huge fields full of crops, several huts, and beautiful rivers. The land of Omisha was similar to farmland, untouched by the corruptions of mass civilization and pollution. "We have no use for the machines of Danjur, the electricity of Laybrynna, or the cities of Hyrule. Here, we use our magic for what we need, much like Lorleidi."

Leere grew excited, setting down her suit case. “Are any monsters eyes vulnerable to camera flash?”

"NO!" Bonegrinder did not mean to be so loud, but he gently pushed down Leere's hand holding said camera. "Sorry, tiny princess. Please do not take pictures unless given permission. My kind are not... too keen on the aspect’s technology holds. It's..." He tried to think of a better way to describe it, but could not. "It's human."

Malik only momentarily uncrossed his arms at Bonegrinder pushing Leere.

The Mortuus on the other hand was only surprised by the initial no.

“Understood.” She then brought out a sketch book and various pencils. “Surely art and documentation can’t be rude?”

"Heh, you might see a display of their vanity, tiny princess." The Anagari led the pair to an older hut on the outside of the village. There were many staring eyes of all species. It was evident that the Echidnans had somewhat of a humanoid appearance, but mixed with a certain monstrosity. Snake, spider, bird, lizard, crocodile, there were so many to be named, yet one similarity remained the same. Only Mother was a mixture. All of these were only part of one. "Especially the Tlanuhwa... the birds. They love showing off their beautiful feathers."

Leere immediately got to sketching. She detailed environments, the work of the hut, any inhabitants she could with her personal thoughts.

Malik meditated on the aura of the area. The air was fresh, yet he couldn’t shake the stares of all the inhabitants.

Bonegrinder noticed the stares and could hear the whispering. He was getting annoyed by the constant blather from the neighbors. All of them knew why he liked this spot; it was supposed to be quiet and private.

"'Take a look and then leave'," Bonegrinder snapped at the inhabitants in their own tongue, earning a jolt from the others. "'You're being rude by staring continuously and don't think that this old snake cannot hear you whispering!'"

Malik simply stared back into the overgrowth as Leere put her bags away. He wondered which one would be the first to show bravery by coming forward.

"Hrm... ignore them, they're curious. Most of them have never seen a human before." Bonegrinder explained to Leere and Malik. "While you tell your children stories of monsters under the bed and in the closet, we tell stories of humans kidnapping them in the middle of the night to make jewelry out of them. To them, you are both feared and thought of as simply that. A story." He was tired, it showed on his face. The visions, all of it had drained him so. "He will rest. If you need him, call. They know better than to disobey Mother."

It took nearly an hour until one of the Echidnans finally decided to approach the hut. Oddly enough, it was one of the smaller ones... a juvenile Tlanuhwa. Slowly, step by step, she approached.

Leere was resting her back against the hut walls sketching when she noticed. “Hello there.”

The Tlanuhwa did not know Leere's language but still stiffened when she spoke. She glanced back at her friends, poorly hiding in the brush. This was obviously a dare. Holding up a single talon, the Tlanuhwa released a series of words, sounding like a question. To translate the best she could, she held out one arm and then slowly touched it. She wanted permission to see if... humans were actually real.

Leere studied the little creature, getting a sense of what it wanted. It felt like it had the heart of a child. Bonegrinder and the Mother gave their word she would not be harmed. With a smile, she set her not book down, and put out a hand for the little one to come and touch her.

Hesitantly, the Tlanuhwa extended a talon and very carefully poked Leere's hand. With a surprised squawk, she nearly tripped over her feet, scuttling backwards. Chirping loudly and insistently, the juvenile was obviously portraying to her friends that this human was real and was not another illusion of Bonegrinder's to scare them away from his hut. Of course, her friends thought she was lying. Trilling exasperatedly, the Tlanuhwa slowly curled a talon around Leere's fingers and gestured for her to follow.

Leere did so, careful, but not sensing danger. Malik looked from the window to see her leave. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“I’ll call if I need assistance. Get some rest.”

"SQUAWK!" The Tlanuhwa's feathers shot up like a peacock on her head. She was startled, having forgotten about the second human. If the female was real, then the male had to be as well. The armor frightened her and she stood behind Leere. Only armored humans would try to hurt them from her parents told her. The ones without armor were usually skilled with magic or such, but it could easily be deflected. This human, Mother said she was good. She would trust Mother's words. But still, she remained cautious.

“Can’t you take the damned helmet off?”

“No. It’s part of who I am.”

Leere unconsciously petted the top of the Tlanuhwa’s head, her smooth skin massaging the feathers. “Then keep yourself in the hut.”

Tugging insistently on Leere's sleeve, the young Tlanuhwa pulled the woman over to her friends. The further away from the human in armor, the better. The others were interested, yet still on guard. One by one, they approached Leere and then took turns examining her. A male Talnuhwa groomed through her hair, looking for fleas or pests while fiddling with the locks. Another female curiously touched the nail polish on Leere's fingers. It was odd to have paint there, why was it not on her face? Then the smaller male simply sat there, tilting his head. Why did humans look so... pale? So weird? The male was different, but males and females were different so that was to be expected.

"Solani." The brave Tlanuhwa gestured to herself. "Solani." Then she pointed to Leere. She wanted her name.

“Nice meet you Solani. I am Leere. Leere.” She pointed at herself. It was rather cute letting these kids get a better look at her.

"Leeee... riii." Solani chirped the name and practiced a few times before getting it right. "Leere. Leere!" Then she pointed to the other female. "Sneha." Then to the two males. "Bhuv." The larger one. "Nirav." The smaller one. Solani then returned to Sneha. There was an obvious similarity between the two. "Bahan." Then she pointed to the two males once more. "Bhaee." Solani was trying to communicate that the female was her sister, yet the two males were brothers.

“Solani. Sheha. Both are Bahan. Sisters. Bhuv and Nirav. Bhaee. Or brothers. Nice to meet you all.”

The human learned fast! She seemed to understand. Now, for the next question. Gesturing toward the hut where the other human male was, Solani asked, "Leere. Bhaee?"

“Him? No. He’s...” Leere paused. Her mind went blank. The monster that could only kill. Who threw her in that asylum after killing her birth parents brutally in front of her. The man who single handily helped repress all memories of before she came to Hyrule. A man that when she gave it some thought, she did not like. “Malik is a protector.” That much was true. At least he watched out for her family.

There were confused faces at the last statement, but the group seemed to understand the shaking of head, indicating 'no'. Odd, Surely the two weren't mates. They did not smell of each other. Maybe these were simply companions. Yet, before anymore questions could be asked, a loud and angry screech caught all the childrens' attentions. Mama Tlanuhwa was not happy that the children had gotten so close to a human of all creatures. She furiously scolded them and then turned to Leere. She gave an shooing motion, and then pulled the children back to the direction of the huge nesting homes in the trees. Solani gave an apologetic look but had to follow her mother.

Leere wondered if they understood Common sign language. She shot Solani a ‘I hope to see you again’. Carefully, she stepped back away from the mother back to the hut. “No harm.”

The mother kept an eye on Leere while the children flew into the nest in the trees. While the males were not her chicks, she was still going to watch them. Releasing a loud, frustrated caw in Leere's direction, it was surely an insult. Then she zoomed into the tree home behind her daughters, still chiding them for getting so close.

Meanwhile, Bonegrinder heard the commotion and poked his head out of the hut.

"... Tlanuhwans are curious but very jittery." He told Leere, half asleep. "It is time to rest, tiny princess. Bonegrinder is very tired. Let's make a little less noise in the future, yes?"

“I merely got closer with some children. It’s there minds who will shape the future.” Leere looked mighty proud of herself. “They met their first genuinely good human.”

"Heh, children are indeed the most curious." Bonegrinder held the side of his head. For once, the Anagari looked... frail. His face said it all. While he could not die, the Anagari could still feel weak. "Come, tiny princess. Keep this old snake company while he dreams. Mother will expect us tomorrow and does not permit tardiness."

Leere nodded, curling up next to Bonegrinder. His body indeed felt more worn down, but he was still a magnet of warmth. “Just don’t try anything funny now that I know kids are right outside.” With her cheeky quip, Leere took a long nap.

With both of them asleep, Malik decided to silently leave the hut to examine his outer surroundings. He had grown curious about the inhabitants and wanted to see if he could learn more.

Malik looked up at the nest Leere got herself comfortable. His helmet made him look stone cold, the perfect lack of emotion. He wondered how deep these monsters feared humans? Would he have fitted into their society better as an undead? Walking to outside the temple ruins, he traced his hand along the stone. Ancient history fascinated him, but he wasn’t the type to seek it out.

There were various types of Echidnans in Omisha. Some were more so docile and others were aggressive. Others looked fearsome and a few were actually very beautiful. The closer Klinge arrived to the temple, the more spying eyes he had upon him. Each time he turned to look, the eyes would disappear into a shadow, behind tree leaves, or another statue. The Echidnans were curious but very cautious.

The Gerudo felt isolated. Unlike Leere, he wouldn’t remove his armour to make others feel comfortable. He wouldn’t compromise on his own safety and identity. The continued ducking of his attention boiled his agitation, until he finally spoke up about it. “Do any of you have courage to speak to me? Or you simply too afraid?”

Whispers. More whispering. No one stepped out of their hiding place. Humans were known as the 'things which go bump in the night' in Omisha. Finally, a massive goliath birdeater spider descended from the treetops by a thick piece of webbing. "I can smell my daughters on you, human." This one actually knew Hylian. No doubt, it was due to the efforts of Blue and White. The male-spider resembled the twins in some way. "And the old snake. I'm very curious how you convinced Bonegrinder to bring you here."

“The woman I travel with has a closer relationship with those arachnids than I. As for Bonegrinder, him and I have a professional understanding. I wonder, with people like you, what do you all have to fear from mere humans?”

"Ever have someone try to cage you and make you spin web for them with no food or water for days on end?"

“I’ve seen packs of Moblin’s violate woman they captured on raids. Any sentient group can be capable of terrible actions.” Malik tilted his head, getting a better angle of the spider. “Is Al-Daida where you get your only experience of humans from?”

"No, we've had dealings with those bulkhead from somewhere called Labyrinth and the steam lovers from Danny-Ur." The male Kokyangwuti still hung upside down but crossed his arms. "We saw our fair share of knights from High-Ruling at one time, looking for treasure and glory." He did not seem impressed. "While all species are capable of acts of violence, at least we Echidnans don't turn on each other like humans do."

“You’ve never experience war amongst your species? Or lashed out against one another? I find that hard to believe.”

"Would you lash out at your brother with hostility when someone like Mother would turn you inside out with a snap of her fingers?" He scoffed. "I think not."

“So, you simply don’t turn on each other because you have a stronger leader to keep you in check. That sounds very human to me.”

"Mother is far from human. Even with strong leaders, humans still hurt one another or love war." Kiume stated. "We fear Mother's magic, her connection to the deities, and her strength... but at the same time, she loves us, cares for us, and protects us. She doesn't use us."

“A ruler with all the power has no need for pawns, until they have an opponent that faces them. And do you strike those you love for speaking out of term? For thinking for themselves?”

"No, everyone has their own opinion. Some agree with Mother, others do not." Kiume stated. "She doesn't punish them for it. Though warns them if they leave Omisha, she cannot guarantee them protection. However, while they're here, they have to follow rules. Not just from here, but from every tribe. This keeps everyone safe."

“Safe from what? Humans too afraid to march into a country they don’t understand? What do you have to fear from cooperation with others?”

"Humans fear what they don't understand." Kiume was blunt with his statement. "We've attempted to make outreaches in the past which got us nowhere. To us, it's better to be feared by these humans to get them to leave us in peace. We've been safe for hundreds of years with no human armies penetrating our borders thanks to Mother." He then poked Klinge with a spider leg, not aggressively but interested. "Huh. So, you are real. Not one of those ghost messengers."

“I’m very real. If you fear humans so much, perhaps I can keep them out of you borders. And do so with monsters loyal to myself.”

Kiume actually snickered at the last statement. "Monsters of your own? You honestly think any Echidnan would blindly follow a human?"

“Moblins. Various reptilian tribes of Flos. Bublins. Stalfos. Darknut Jackal’s. Bokoblins.” Malik voice slowly turned from indifference to annoyance as he ticked each monster species loyal to him off. “I’ve spent centuries training and leading monsters. I have their fear and respect as a leader.”

"Oh, we know of those. Ganondorf's lackeys." Kiume snorted. "We'd eat them as a snack if they dared to try such a thing. It wouldn't be the first time that Ganondorf tried to take this land for his own."

“You sound rather elitist there.”

"Oh, we all are, human. At least, better than that tyrant who led those so-called monsters of yours." Kiume then asked, frank as could be. "Why are you here? Bonegrinder would not have brought you unless it was a really good reason to do so. Something about that prophecy of his that's so damn important."

“I don’t know of any prophecy.” Klinge slumped against the wall, looking out at over the horizon. “I was... curious. Al-Daida demanded that Hyrule supply warriors at your border. No one knows about your country. They all assume that you are blood thirsty savages. As someone who was a something of a monster myself, I sympathize with people jumping to conclusions. I want to make my own conclusion.”

"Hm. I think that's the first wise thing I've ever heard a human say." Kiume finally released his webbing and stood beside of the man. He was bigger than White or Blue in height and bulk, yet clearly older. A mandible was missing and he was coated in scars. It was evident that he did not lie about the encounter with Ganondorf's forces. "Though, I must admit, I do think this is the first time I've ever seen another male Gerudo besides Ganondorf."

“I’m sure I was a fluke when I was born. Now, I’m not sure if genetics are more favourable, or if the gods are no longer angry, but there’s been light increase in the male population.” Klinge eyed the spider up and down some more. “You’re certainly big creature. What is your name?”

"Kiume." He introduced himself to the human. "My girls are Morowa and Negasi. You might know them as Blue and White. They are the god-children of Mother. For some reason, my wife was really good friends with Mother when they were younger. She's taken care of them since their ma has passed when I could not."

“What has stopped you from being a father Kiume?”

"I tried to be there when I could and gave the girls all I could, yet we have to hunt, to patrol... sometimes, in order to provide for them, I had to be away for lengthy periods of times."

“Has this affected your relationship?”

"Not really. We live for hundreds of years, so there's always times to mend things. Still..." He sighed. "Doesn't make me feel less guilty."

Malik had a thought to himself and chuckled. “I suppose you see their criminal activities as simply weeding out humans, no?”

"... criminal activities?" Kiume appeared to be confused. "You mean the drugs? Are drugs not legal in Hyrule?"

“They are not.” Malik felt he had a good conversation on his hands. “Many poor people, that I try to help, find themselves attracted to Bonegrinders criminal hive. The twins create drugs that ruin their lives forever, hopelessly addicted. Did you know they work with a succubuss who makes people addicted to his sex rings?”

Kiume could not help it, he started laughing. "Oh, forgive my amusement, human, but you know drugs are a choice, yes? As is sex?" Kiume then pointed to himself. "Even I partake of a few hallucinogens sometimes, and I certainly do love a good mating." He added, "Humans have such narrowed views of drugs, sex, religion and politics. So black and white. There's no room for gray?"

“There’s always a choice. But human will shouldn’t be pushed towards vices. Those who feel they have nothing can have their wills more easily persuaded. For better or worse.”

"Perhaps that is why they go for the drugs or the sex. To feel." Kiume told the male. "I will not condone my daughters actions for making substances which can bring a momentary relief from the burdens of life. They also make several rare medicines as well. Bonegrinder knows them both, and knows they keep Mother informed." He then asked out of the blue. "Speaking of Mother, how did you convince her not the eat you?"

“With honesty.” Malik felt tired. “Maybe you should ask Leere knows about your daughters. I think I’ll return to my hut.”

"Oh, the tiny, pretty female? They do have a thing for petites like that." Kiume chuckled at Malik's expression. He was not going to let a human make him feel bad over the actions of his daughters. Blue and White did have flaws, yes, but they could hold no blame for humans too weak to say 'no'. "If Mother threatens to eat you in the future, just tell her you're all gristle. That might dissuade her attempt."

“She’d have a problem with that I’m sure.” He reached a hand out for Kiume to take it. “My name is Malik. Like your daughters, others know me as Klinge.”

"Malik... the Lorleidian queen's watchdog. Mother has spoken of you before, though I was not entirely sure you were him." Kiume stared at the hand. Slowly, he took it and then asked, "This is a human greeting... and I'm supposed to..."

Malik took the hand away, finding himself squeeze his metal arm into a fist. “Normally, you shake it. But I don’t take to being called a dog.”

"... but that is your title?" Kiume tilted his head. He genuinely did not know it was an insult. "Mother said that is what the prince relayed to her. I apologize if I said it incorrectly?"

“I was high commander of Hyrule. Zarazu’s friend. I am Lord of Hyrule now. And the Prince is a brat, so very much like his father. So please, don’t call me a mutt ever again.”

"Ah, the title has since changed now." Kiume understood... slightly. "A rise in position. So, Malik, Lord of Hyrule... do you need an escort back to your hut?"

“I am sure I can make my way back.” Malik pointed out towards West-North. “I’m becoming convinced Omisha is no threat to Hyrule. Tell me, should I worry of Malus?”

"Our kind is of no threat as long as your kind do not try to hurt us. We are peaceful beings who love our home and wish to remain without..." Kiume put it as politely as he could. "Intruders." Though he visibly stiffened at Malus. "Mother used her magic to make the mountain range impenetrable for a reason, Malik. We use the darker arts to better our lives. The Mortuus use it to cause pain and misery. They are fascinated with us monsters, but that does not mean they have not tried to tame us in more ways than one as well. If you and the female are determined to go there, I'd advise against it."

“I don’t know if I could change her mind.”

"Then do not change it, drag her back." Kiume was not exactly considerate in his suggestion. "Death would be better than what they do to those they capture."

“... I understand.”

"Reanimators... necromancers... they laugh at the goddess of death and she condemns them for it." Kiume still walked with Malik back to the hut, at least to show the prying eyes that this human was not dangerous... well, sort of. "Mother might allow you questions and courtesy but her magic protects that border between our land. I'd suggest not... tempting fate."

“Thank you for the council.” Malik entered the door to the hut, giving Kiume a slight wave. He learned much coming here. Would he learn something he wish he didn’t?

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/189943084351/into-the-dark-and-unknown-ch-1-seeking-passage

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/190443537461/into-the-dark-and-unknown-ch-3-test-of-will

#Crossover! #With #ridersoftheapocalypse #Mother #Enchidian #Bonegrinder #Klinge #Malik #Gerudo #Omisha #mortuus #Malus #Leere #Leere Dragmire

[helpinghanikan]

In the family

Avengers (and Matt Murdock) x Reader

Sum: Family business is good business, how you fit in is to be seen. 

AN: Mob au

Steve Rogers:    

           A single lamp was on in the corner of your living room. Steve had tried to stay up for you again.

           He’s sitting in the corner of the couch in his regular clothes. One leg up, head leaned back against the arm rest, one arm over his face, probably placed there after “shutting his eyes for a few seconds” that resulted in the nap.

           A drawing pad is open on his lap, pencil fallen from his hand and onto the floor. It was the pad you had bought him awhile ago, the big expensive kind. “I saw it on my way back,” You had said. “It was on sale,” you had said to get him to accept it. It was not, actually, on sale.

           He had been drawing the doorway next to your turned off TV. Door open, showing one corner of your bed and the bedroom’s wall paper. Using dark shadows on paper. Where the only outline in the door was that of the bed, everything outside the doorway was lighter, like he hadn’t focused on them as much.

           His art had started to take off around the same time you started with your “social club”. Less time spent together, more time with the drawing pads. Longer you were out the better the things you brought back. New TV, bed spread from a specialty store instead of the local Walmart, and more drawing pads.

           The one he used was closed gently. Placed on the coffee table without any noise.

           He was a very weird sleeper. Slept like the dead but a certain sound, high pitched or too loud, would send him bolted upwards. Things like walking on soft feet, or a fan running wouldn’t wake him up. Picking up his leg and placing it next to the other, next coming the couch blanket over his body.

           It’s best that he didn’t know about your little “club”. He loved you madly, enough to not ask questions, but also enough to worry. It’s best he didn’t know, it’s best that he just sleeps.

         Tony Stark:

           It’s easy to forget the danger that comes with your life. A lavish penthouse, drivers and constant respect from absolute strangers had a way of spoiling a person. That a gun had to be constantly strapped to your hip did little to change that.

           It’s not until his hands grips yours that you are reminded of that. A whisper into his ear, a slamming phone call or just glancing at a text and his hand is somewhere on your body. Shoulder, knee, ankle, and hands were always open for his hand to hold. Your entire life becoming a human stress ball for your husband.

           You only ever asked what was wrong when he comes in upset, then it’s up in the air towards the cause. His answer will always be sarcastic;

           “Having a bad day?” You would ask as he walked past.

           “No, it’s going great. Black mail is in now a-days, right?” That was the farthest he would explain it. Reaching for the closest part of you to him and groaning into the hand covering his face.

         Thor:

           You don’t know where he went, you don’t know what he was doing and, you didn’t want to know. What you do know is that he comes home late, that he is paid well, and that he loves you, no matter what.

           “Shoes…” You remind him.

           Thunk Thunk

           You had only been asleep a few minutes ago. Still half-awake, blinking slow while approaching Thor. In the walkway past your main entrance he mostly strips on the welcome mat. Shirt, pants, tie and, of course, shoes are bundle together and put into your arms. One long blink as he leans down and kisses your cheek.

           “Thank you,” He says, walking towards the shower before you yell at him about that too.

           Your hand grabs around the handle of the hammer left by the door. The one thing he kept forgetting, leaving that thing head down on the tiles, smear of red left behind you’d have to clean later.

           Clothes are tossed into the tub in passing. Trusty large bucket pulled from under the sink, dish soap taken out, bleach put in. A dangerous combination if they were to ever mix, but it was best to keep them together. “It’s just cleaning supplies, officer.” You would say when they’d finally appear with a warrant.

           On your knees in front of the tub it fills with freezing water. Dish soap poured in and you begin scrubbing. Be it from wanting to finish quickly or that your muscles weren’t alive yet, your pajama shirt would be soaked by the end of the cleaning session.

           Water is a candy-apple red by the time the stains are gone from the shirt. The pants were easier, given the black color. The shirt was the faintest pink from the water, that would be removed after a regular run through the washing machine. Where they both go after wringing them out and tossing them in.

           The hammer was another story, soaked in bleached, scrubbed with a tooth brush. Left in the sink to naturally dry and then to be placed back into the tool belt in the garage. When somebody asks why only your finger prints are on it, “because it’s mine, why else?”

           An alarm would sound in the wee hours of the morning for you to put it back before living hours. For now, though, you strip as Thor had. Tossing your wet clothes in with the others and starting it up. Thor had many white shirts and black pants, why were these so special?

           He’s just coming out of the shower a few seconds after you return to bed. Hair damp, muscles relaxed, a thick hand lays on your side under the covers. A kiss, just as sweet as the first, is placed on your temple. He smells like rain and copper.

           Not that you would know anything about that.

         Bucky Barnes:

            This young man before you is a dime a dozen. Although the “leader” of his little group, you wouldn’t be able to pick him out from the group as anything but a drone. He wasn’t exactly a skeleton like the other quivering street rats forced into your office. He was fatter, but still gangly none the less. Not that he was looking to you, looking over your shoulder the entire time.

           “So, was it an accident? Or are you just stupid?” you ask after a few seconds.

           He finally looks to you, only for a few seconds, then returning over your shoulder. “I didn’t- nothin’ was meant by it. We just- yeah, we just got drunk.”

           “So, you were confused.” You finished for him.

           He nods quickly as the boards creek under a walking weight somewhere behind you.

           “The Winter soldier” or “the white wolf” had a bigger reputation then you did. To very few he was Bucky. A man with a bloody past and one hell of a resume. This brought him into your payroll and eventually into your arms.

           “Yeah, we, uh, I’m sorry. We were drunk and, we’re so sorry.” At least now he was looking in your direction, with Bucky standing behind your chair.

           “You were drunk, so drunk that you picked a fight. Went into an alley and beat a twenty-two-year-old until his jaw broke.” Picking up a file and slapping it down for effect. It was actually filled with receipts from take out for tax reasons, but he didn’t need to know that. “So drunk that you left him there and weren’t even smart enough to try and get out of my territory.”

           The truth was Mikey, one of your boys with too big a mouth, had started the fight. But you’d have to deal with him later.

           He incredibly quiet at this point. Unsure where he’s supposed to stare, looking between you and Bucky just behind your chair.

           “I’m so sorry,” He tries again.

           “He has bills, a lot of bills now and I’m not putting that on his family.” You spat, opening your receipt file. “I’m putting that on you.” The file is slammed down again, hoping not to lose any of the receipts and get yelled at by your accountant.

           He’s staring right at you now.

           “Get your shit together, get the money together and everything is going to get a lot easier.” He’s nodding fast before you even finished your statement. “Bill will be in the mail, get out.”

           He practically runs from the room. Sam smirking as he followed him out, making sure the rat actually left your building.

           Your wolf’s hands go to your shoulders. Squeezing them softly, a soft kiss to the top of your head when there is no one there.

         Natasha Romanoff:

           That bitch, that absolute bitch.

           “I’m so sorry,” Were the words your ‘work friend’ had said in the office. Stepping into your space with false kindness, before dropping the bomb without a second thought.

           He had supposedly seen Nat at this high-end bar he moonlights at. You had every reason to ignore his accusation; he had only met her once, in the winter when you both wore heavy coats and hats, in a passing “hey,” before moving on. A far reach from the supposed get up Nat was wearing that night. The words “she was a little whore-ish looking” were used, the glare you gave sent him running back to his cubical.

           He was right though, that weekend there she was. Sitting on one of those too expensive stools, leaning against the bar with one arm. The other putting her hand on the knee of the man in front of her, she was looking at him with a Gatsby worthy look. The same she would give you, seeing it given to someone else, though. It was probably easier to be shot.

           In another lifetime you might have stormed in and started a scene. Instead the wound was too much. Sending you limping home to ignore her calls and text. You’d still be too hurt to read the paper some days later. Completely missing the man’s obituary.  

         Bruce Banner:

           They always go for the supposedly weakest member of the family. A few days the same car had been following you, more specifically he, Bruce didn’t notice. Even with your head looking back to it every few steps when you walked.

           You were preceptive, not sneaky.

           It wouldn’t be long before they’d try and contact him. That would come maybe a week after, when which ever branch of law enforcement on your ass figured out his schedule. He was on the street earlier then usual that day. Leaning forward into a car window that you unfortunately recognized. This slowed your walking to a complete stop; an exception were the one and two taking you between buildings. A horrible hiding spot if anyone were to actually be looking at you.

           He steps away from the car with half a smile. It’s the kind he does to replace frustration, laughing at something said by the people in the car. It pulls out from curb as you start half-walking, half-trotting towards your man. Your line of questions completely ignored as his hand takes yours.

           “Stark gonna help us with that vacation?” You asked over lunch.

           The “opportunity” those agents had offered Bruce were laced with reminders of his past. That of the anger which went out of control, the record he had to be upfront about at the beginning of your relationship and all that could easily go away.

           “He’s more then willing to, where he wants us to go may be… too much.” Bruce says, hidden behind a menu. Tony’s idea of laying low was a penthouse outside of the united state jurisdiction. “Rogers owes you a favor, though, right? Maybe he has an idea?”

           “That’d be too close to home, we need a more…exotic place to relax.” He offered. “Shuri loves me, her family has a place.”

           “That works, should I bring a bathing suit?” You had asked.

           You would both be gone from the radar within a week.

           T’Challa:

           The floor is so much more comfortable then the couch for reading. Back to the cushions and legs spread out, you don’t bother looking up when he enters the house.

           Call it fake or call it protection, T’challa’s personality changes depending who he is with. With outsiders he can considered cold, several are still under the impression he doesn’t even speak English. The family he was respectful, big brotherly with an unrestricted face. His inner circle and the jokes come out, more teasing to their boss and relaxed shoulders. With you, everything is gone.

           The entire world a weight he drops at the doorway. Calling out to you which you don’t bother responding to as he would find you no matter what.

           “How’d it go?” He sits on the couch next to you, your shoulders, naturally leaning into his legs.

           “It was very long, everyone was…yelling.” He’s tired, legs stretching out under the coffee table. Chest sliding farther down the couch with a groan. “It was done, though. Of course.”      

           A few seconds of silence as you finish the page your on, placing book mark and closing the binding. He doesn’t move from his spot on the couch, even when you placed the book on the coffee table and stood up. Staying in his relaxed position, only making a small noise when your warmth leaves his legs.

           He jerks slightly when you walk around the couch. Arm moving from his face to see you looking down at him. Your hands on either side of his head, scratching through his hair line, massaging his head. Humming is added when your thumbs rub over his eyebrows, gently across his eyelids and two fingers against his temples

           Although “Black Panther” was just his mob name, he did tend to act like a cat. Eyes closing softly, a groan in the deep of his throat, head moving to chase your hands when they move too far from their duty. If he were any more feline like he’d be purring.

           Pietro Maximoff:

           A club is a stupid place for a business meeting. It’s too loud, even in the private booths, and the over priced drinks just made the guy out as being a snob. Sent as Stark’s representative you had to play the game on the guy’s terms.

            It was why you were currently scanning over the banister. Looking for that little color flashing in the strobe lights.

           And there it is, silver tie hung loosely around his neck. Leaning against the bar, your cute lookout taking his break from scoping out the club. He catches your eye after looking upwards, a little head tilted upwards. Not a trap, we’re good.

           You give a head down, come up, need help.

           He’s smiling before disappearing into the crowd of moving bodies. You turn to the “clients” you were meeting. Stark had talked about expanding for awhile now. More into the school district (that many of the families own kids attended the school was just a coincidence) hence the yahoos you were forced to talk to.

           Two sons from old money sitting in the lounge chairs. A woman draping over the back of the elders brother, she not paying attention, around his neck, standing behind the chair like his cape.

           “Do you like the place?” Younger brother asks as you sit down.

           “It’s very bright. Nice and young, just as Boss had described the two of you.” Stark had actually used to words ‘freshly dropped from community college’ but yours were better. “A little young running this place, young to be as powerful as you both are.”

           They preened like birds at the compliment.

           “It wasn’t easy,” Oldest jokes and you all have a good life.

           Pietro was a quick little jack rabbit. The fastest runner in the family, which was how there was suddenly a glass in your face. Weight on one arm of your chair as he leans against you, putting the arm around your shoulders after you take the glass. Your arm around his waist. A new pretty thing to show off you were just as good as they were.

           The youngest twerks an eyebrow while the eldest squints.

           “Pretty young yourself to be here, why?” He asks.

           Tips of your fingers gently touch the small gap of skin between Pietro’s shirt and pants. “Boss wants some of your area, he’s more than willing-.”

           “He wants a piece of our shit?”

           “Just a piece, a small piece.” You say. “Are you even using it? Don’t you want money? Don’t you want a cut without doing any work?”

           Both brothers take a long drink from their glasses. Pietro takes the chance to take the glass from your hand. The arm candy with the tendency to steal, scandalous.

           “Why didn’t Stark come himself?” Oldest asks.

           “He’s so old, you really think he would like this place? It’d be the same as bringing your grandpa to the club.” You explain.

           “Jude,” Youngest says, gesturing for his brother to come.

           “We’ll be back.” Oldest says, following his brother to the off-side office. His cape following close behind, being sure to keep hold of his arm.

           Pietro gives your glass back after their gone. “So, I am just here for my looks?” He asks.

           “You love it,” You state, knocking your head back for the last of the drink.

         Peter Parker:

           For the two years you’ve known Peter you had no idea his statues. That the “prince of the family” was the same guy holding your hand and walking you home after school. That the black car following you down the street was nothing to be concerned about. Or the dark reason bullies had suddenly stopped bothering him.

           Like at most schools bullies were a problem that was “complicated” to deal with. Peter, unfortunately, was on the receiving end of quite of a bit of it. The same could be said about you, girls are more brutal then many are willing to admit. Both of you had your reasons not to tell anyone, the office was aware but what could they do? Excuses came from the secretaries about how horrible it was for the bullies and the sympathy you needed to feel for them.

           Thus, the side by side walking you did together. Hands going from swinging by your sides to interlocking fingers.

           Although you neve told your parents about the problems, Peter had the truth forced from him after coming home with a black eye.

           Peter was a bad liar, but great at keeping secrets. Had you never asked about the car suddenly dropping him off and picking him up everyday you wouldn’t have noticed the bullies. Noticed the red and blue casts around their arms, that they were completely avoiding Peter’s eye contact and even turned around at the sight of you.

           “My dads are really protective.” He said one day at lunch, that was the truth. “I don’t know what happened, though.” That was a lie.    

         Stephen Strange:

           Following basic directions were easier then most complained about.

           “More pressure, a lot of pressure.” He’d say.

           “Hold this back for me.” He’d say.

           “Sweetie, go wash up.” He’d order before you’d enter the room.

           In the end you were little more then a glorified nurse. One without any medical training but plenty of experience holding people down and handing over medical tools. The toughest made man would grab the hell out of your hand during stitches.

           Thor does this now, his face cringing into distortion. Holding your hand and focusing on you instead of the stitches being put into his leg. “Is it out yet?” he asks, with a groan.

           “You don’t remove a bullet,” Stephen says form the other end of the table. “Just patch it up,”

           Thor lets out a little “ah!” when the surgical needle goes through a thicker piece of his skin. Your hand pressing against his forehead to keep him from sitting up and seeing all the blood and a foreign object going through his skin several times. Doesn’t matter how tough he was, how much blood he sees on the regular, when it’s your own; there’s something different.

           “Stop whining.” Stephen says, wiping the disinfectant from the wound.

           After that it’s a few seconds of wrapping bandages around his calf. Pant leg pulled over and Stephen scoots over to look over his patient. Pulling the small pill bottle of golden “magic” he definitely did not create himself.

           “Wait till you get home, take a quarter, a quarter, of a spoon when you get home. If you do, don’t touch the butterflies, just don’t touch anything.” He warns, holding it out to him.

           “And there’s no refill, either.” You add. Stephen pointing to you for emphasis.

           “Thank you, Dr. Strange,” Thor says as though he hadn’t gotten the lecture a hundred times by now. He sits up on the table, smiling at you. “And nurse.”

           Neither of you had the legal license anymore. Not that it was needed to patch up bullets.

         Matt Murdock:

         “You been through the sports lately?” Officer something-face says on the other side of the table. He’s slouched in his chair, paper held in front of him as though hiding from the other side of the room. “I don’t read it myself all that much. Watch too much of it, I already know what they’re gonna say. It’s all gonna be wrong.”

           This was the tactic they were going with: good guy, nice cop, spends the first bit talking to you. Rope into a conversation, get you comfortable and get you to spill. When that didn’t work after awhile another cop would come in storming. Yelling at nice cop for being so nice and going on a rant hoping you’d interject. After that, a ping pong game of questions from both cops until you snap and say something.

           Now, the only thing you could do, was mentally prepare for it. Sitting there like a pouting toddler, arms crossed, refusing to look at him.

           “Where’s my lawyer?” You said the magic words an hour into your interrogation.

           “You know we’re not gonna be able to talk they arrive?” Nice cop says.

           “Stop talking,” the door slams open and your angel walks in. Hand out, sticking to the wall so he doesn’t run into the table during his march through the room. “Is my client under arrest, Officer? Has she been

           “And they arrive,” Nice cop says gathering his paper. “Mr. Murdock, where there’s blood you’re sure to follow, starting to think you might be a shark.”

           “Only if the blood is my client’s. Is she under arrest?” He asks, hand leaving the wall. Going instead to your shoulder, both as comfort and to acknowledge where you were.

           “There was a murder, with her MO.” Nice cop says.

           “I’m sorry, I was unaware she was convicted of murder.” Sarcasm, he was at the previous trials and arrests. Nothing was ever held against you.

           “You know all your clients are, Murdock.” Nice cop says, starting to become not-as nice cop. “This time, she wasn’t so careful.”

           “I wasn’t even there!” You almost yelled, toddler now throwing an almost tantrum in standing quickly.

           Matt’s fingers curl into your shoulder, practically slamming you back into the chair. Leaning into your space and whispering a soft, “Shut the fuck up.” Before standing straight.

           “Is she under arrest?” Matt asks again.

           “Not yet,” Not-as cop admits.

           “Then we’ll be seeing you.” His arm is around your forearm. Pulling you up from the chair.

           Matt, the man at the top of your don’s payroll, was smart enough to wait until you’re both outside to ask; “What did you do?”

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

Carol Danvers:

          Her hand is a constant reminder at any small bit of exposed skin. Sliding their way to what little space was between your shirt and pants. Gently past your hair to the back of your neck for a conversation. And now, even at a formal event, her too hot fingers rest on your forearm. Standing next to you but having yet to involve herself in the conversation.

           Her never leaving presence was supposed to be a threat. “Stay in your lane, do your job, pretty girl. Nothing will happen to you, Carol won’t let anything happen to you.” The big boss had said as the strong blonde stood close to you.

           It’s hard to see Carol as a threat when all she’s done is protect you. More then once her hand grabbed the wrist of someone ghosting over your backside. Getting close enough her fire breath whispered in your ear to not go with somebody or to get ready to duck, even just saying “take off your heels” and you keep the smile but lose the shoes.

           The smart part of you knows she a threat, but the reasonable part believes she may also be more.

#avengers x reader #avengers x you #Avengers #Daredevil #reader insert #natasha romanoff x reader #captain america x reader #thor x reader #matt murdock x you #peter parker x reader #t'challa x reader #black widow x reader #Black panther x reader #mob au #mafia au #dark avengers #bruce banner x reader #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #t'challa #Mention of murder #mob reader #eye candy #carol danvers #Carol danvers x reader #Captain Marvel x reader

[ineffablefool]

Some meditations on being a fat human being, in the era of Good Omens series fandom.  Not n//sf/w, really (hi my name is Jack I’m ace and supremely uninterested in sexytimes), but really personal and also long, so I’ll stick it behind a readmore.  I suppose if another fat human being had thoughts they wanted to tack on, they could reblog to do so, but I don’t expect this to be a particularly rebloggable thing.  Just thinkin’ out loud (via clickety fingies).

I have been... okay, more or less, with how my body looks, for a while.  (Minus all the things about it that make me get “she” and “her” and “ma’am” everywhere I go, with exactly three glorious exceptions in the ~4 years since I realized that those weren’t right.  That is a whole ‘nother bucket of bears.)  I’ve been on Tumblr over on my main account since 2013, and the entire time I’ve been immersing myself in fat positivity and in fat activism by wonderful accounts like ok2befat and bigfatscience and thisisthinprivilege.  So I’ve been basically okay. 

It sucks how hard it is to find clothing that I like which doesn’t completely exclude my particular set of proportions.  It sucks that my saint of a boss had to literally fight our HR department to change the company policy on flights for business, because the previous policy would have forced me to fly 18 hours in an economy-class seat much smaller than I am when I visit India in a couple months.  It sucks that my body is still the “oh, is this disgusting thing a dealbreaker for you” question on dating websites, and that it’s still the butt of every third Trump joke.  It sucks.  But I’ve gotten better over the years at the skill of seeing my body as not the problem, but an innocent bystander in everyone else’s bullshit.  Clothing and plane seats and humor don’t spring from the earth to be harvested and consumed raw.  People decide how to make them.  People can decide differently.

Anyway.  I’ve been pretty much okay with Body.  Body’s fine.  It’s a good pal.  It gets me where I need to be, and it lets me run around in little circles pretending to be an airplane when I’m bored.  I spend some time with it in partial states of undress now and then (I’m too much of a germaphobe to ever be a naturist, let’s put it that way), just so I can keep myself familiar with what it really looks like.  Y’know how the horror movie monster is really scary up until they actually show it?  Same thing, except fewer blood squibs.

But here’s all this Good Omens stuff.

A lot of the fandom has embraced the slight pudginess of Michael Sheen’s Aziraphale, and a lot of artists are putting that into their work.  And a blessed wonderful few aren’t stopping there.  They’re drawing Aziraphales that are more than just a tiny bit pudgy, sometimes that are just plain fat, unquestionably, not just “a little larger than the very thin rendition of Crowley” or “wearing a lot of layers” or “the clothes are just cut that way”.  Really, really adorable renditions of fat angels who are clearly loveable and clearly loved because look, the artist drew them together, Crowley is right there and he doesn’t have that look on his face by accident.

(There are book renditions floating around too where people have headcanoned a fatter Aziraphale, but I’m still talking miniseries right now.  Also, there are plenty of sort of... cartoony/stylized/silly renditions out there with fatter Aziraphales, but I’m not really talking about those either.  There’s a sort of area of artwork where the style or the scene being depicted is such that my brain is surprised when any of the characters is fat, because this is a pretty drawing of two people kissing or whatever and therefore obviously they have to both be thin.  Obviously.  Internalized fatphobia nonsense.  But that’s the kind of artwork I’m thinking when I type all these zillions of words.)

And that’s a choice, to say “I’m an artist and I’m going to draw this character who is worth being the recipient of a 6000-year-long love, and that character is fat, and that’s just how it is”.  And to keep doing it in one piece of art after the other.

speremint was the first artist I noticed doing this, drawing an Aziraphale who is loved by Crowley (the sacred apple tree art still cracks me up, poor Crowley) and who is definitely fat and who is adorable, and if you’ve read the notes on any of my fics you know that she singlehandedly changed how I picture my headcanon’d Aziraphale.  Then I discovered that dotstronaut and lonicera-caprifolium and toastedbuckwheat are out there too, giving me lovely art to shove into my eyeballs and extend my lifespan potentially indefinitely.  I bet there’s more I haven’t noticed yet.  I want there to be like a hundred more I haven’t noticed yet.

And this all ticks over into the second half of what’s apparently a manifesto at this point, boy it’s a good thing I’m a fast typist, which is the fact that in addition to being a fat human, I am also romantically and aesthetically attracted to fat humans.  It’s something I’ve pretty much literally had no opportunity to ever express, because in my Real Life I don’t really admit to having feelings per se and also I am... not the type of human who is the recipient of romantic thoughts from others.  Or who would ever act on my own unless the other party said something first.  (Which nobody ever has since 2006, you guys.  Supremely not the recipient of romance over here.)

So there’s this fandom environment where a fat character is being celebrated and loved, and I started writing fanfiction for the first time this century, and all of a sudden there’s a place for me to express feelings that I’ve been sitting on since I finally realized in about 2001 what it was about that one guy in high school that made me want to hug him, even though I also couldn’t stand his attitude.

Going through my fics from oldest to most recent, it is clear that I am getting more and more comfortable with that expression.  It’s getting ridiculous.  At this rate, in three weeks’ time I’m just going to be writing “Aziraphale is fat and beautiful and I just want to cuddle his belly forever” over and over again for five thousand words at a stretch.

But that means Brain is thinking a lot about how Aziraphale is fat, and beautiful, and perfect exactly how he is.  And then Brain looks down at Body and is like “hmm.  Same hat.  ineffablefool is fat too.  Therefore, [insert math lady meme here]”.  And I will be, like, “okay, so if Crowley were to put his hand on Aziraphale’s belly, what would that feel or look like?  How would his internal narration describe it?  Well, there’s a belly right here, let’s do some science.”  And then the thoughts that I start associating with the experience of my own body are completely good thoughts, all of them, because they’re going to be going in Crowley’s head.  And my written Crowley is never going to be anything other than madly in asexual romantic love with my written Aziraphale, and is never going to see him as anything other than perfect, physically, no matter what he looks like.

And it’s just being a really good positive feedback mechanism, I guess is the tl;dr version.  External validation (via art, via others’ fics, via comments on my own fics, btw if you’ve left any of those then you are also helping extend my lifespan, especially the people who come back to comment on each new story, yes I recognize you and I do a little happy dance every time a familiar name pops up, please rejoin me on Monday I’m going to post my dickwheelie letters fic) is all well and good.  But the mental loop of “own body can be used for realistic descriptions of a fat body -> descriptions based on own body are all lovingly positive -> own body is therefore described by self as lovingly positive” is... it’s nice, is what I’m saying.  It’s very nice.  Last week I expressed, out loud in a group of coworkers, my desire that something be more size-inclusive.  Do you even know how many deaths I would once have suffered rather than say something like that in mixed company.  But why shouldn’t I say it!  There’s nothing wrong with my being fat!  In fact, it’s within the realm of possibility to see it as a positive thing, so let’s just all admit that we have eyes and then move on!  Geez!

So those are some of my thoughts on being a fat human being, in the era of Good Omens series fandom.

now if I can just score a hot fat ace Ineffable Significant Other out of this fandom, I’ll be set

#ineffablefool original post #if you want to give me any bullshit on any of this then Please Don't #i am well acquainted with ignoring trolls on my non-GO account #and am equally capable of applying that skill over here #but if you don't have any bullshit or but-what-about-health or but-my-tax-dollars then i'd love to conversate #ineffablefool is on about fat bodies being lovely again #i don't know why i keep forgetting that tag it's a very important tag #ineffablefool does some Deep Thoughts

[mothergwendoline-blog]

My Kind of Healthy – Entry 1

Disclaimer: This is a staggeringly homo blog and I will not be offering definitions for the terms used because it would turn my journal entries into a dictionary. If you are unfamiliar with a term you will be able to find a definition online.

This blog contains discussion of suicide and depression. If this makes you feel unsafe, please leave.

 Fat Hides No Sins

 So I turned into a fat bitch. It happened so quickly. I used to be skinny, I used to be underweight but then depression hit me full force. A little background, I’m transgender and I went for full Facial Feminization Surgery in another country. Now, good people in the global trans community will often tell you not to pin all your hopes and dreams on surgery. Especially if you already have a mental illness, it is incredibly dangerous to your mental stability to hold expectations that things will radically improve. Things may get considerably better, they may get worse, or they may not get better at all. For me, it was the latter. As much as I tried not to hope, I had dreams that my ability to “pass” for female would miraculously improve, but they didn’t. Even in the good months after my recovery I would still be misgendered half of the time, about at the same rate as before my surgery to fix my face.

 There are a few reasons this may be the case, most significantly is that I am quite tall, flat chested and have a naturally deep voice. Even with the benefits of a natural looking feminine face, I was still mistaken for a man with considerable regularity. People noticed my femininity and assumed I was a gay man, a common phenomena for trans women. This was heartbreaking for me. Some trans folks are happy and content with not passing. You have your Alok Vaid-Menon’s and your Jacob Tobia’s, wonderful nonbinary folk who find meaning and identity in looking visibly trans. And there are even binary trans people who are content with not passing. I am not one of them, unfortunately. I wish I were but then again, the grass is always greener. But for whatever reason I am born with the condition of being trans, I am also saddled with the need to pass. I’m your stereotyped-to-shit, run of the mill, boring old binary trans woman replete with body dysphoria. I’m just a regular girl who wants to be seen as such, although unfortunately I have trans obstacles in my way. And for me, they are obstacles. There have been people who have encouraged me to embrace my obvious transness but for me it is not so simple. I don’t just want to pass, I need it to live my authentic and true self.

 Now, instead of doing the clever thing and seeing my FFS as one stepping stone in the much larger pursuit of transition happiness, I stopped caring about my body altogether. I drank heavily and regularly, took up vaping and most of all, I binge ate my way to obesity. Now I am severely overweight. My doctor has started to worry for my health, and so have I. A lot of my fat friends talk to me about internalized fatphobia, the societal shame we inherit about our fat bodies. They tell me I have this fatphobia materialized in my desire to be skinny again. After all, as they tell me, there is nothing wrong with being fat. And yes there is truth to this, there is nothing inherently immoral about anyone’s body, be you fat, skinny, average or uncommon weight. I believe this. However, fatness brings with it a form of androgyny. As I’ve gotten fatter I have been more consistently misgendered and this is something I need to remedy with fitness, exercise and weight loss. I have been told that “fat can hide a lot of sins for trans women” through providing us with bigger hips, breasts etc. Well this may be true for some trans women but not for me. Even though I have been on hormones for the better part of a decade, I still carry fat like a man. Huge stomach and arms, less added comfort for my hips, butt and breasts. So weight loss is a must for me. As far as I see it, losing fat to get back to my normal weight is as essential as going for breast augmentation and genital reconstructive surgery.

 So like too many fat bitches I’m making a blog. The key difference between me and most of my fat friends is, unlike them, I actually see fat as a bad problem and wish to remedy this. Obesity is unhealthy. Fatness is a lifestyle choice for some, sure, but not for me. My fatness is a symptom of my depression, and it is putting my wellbeing, physical and mental at serious risk. This blog is my place to post updates about my transition, specifically my journey to a fitter and healthier body. My goals are simple; I want to pass, I want to be fit and I want mental stability. I used to be skinny and fit and I’ll become that way again through hard, steady, constant work. And I can pass too, by paying the same attention to my overall physical wellbeing as I place on exercise and diet. As for mental health, I have depression, anxiety and psychosis; but through consistent medication and therapy I will manage my mental disorders and live a meaningful quality of life. Eventually my hope is to return to the sex industry as an escort. I miss escorting, it was good money and worked well with my life as a writer, allowing me to pick and choose my own hours around my creative work. But the sex industry is stuck in the 90s and you can’t make work as a fat tranny. Sure, there are some curvy cis women who make money in strip clubs or as escorts but they are an exception. I want to be skinny, to get fit and fuckable, I want to buy a pair of banging tits and have a flat stomach. And I want to make men pay to suck my tiny dick before I get rid of that too.

 I exercise six days a week, a mixture of cardio and weight training. I use the elliptical and cycle machines, and rotate my weights from day to day using a mixture of squats, leg press, reverse sit-ups and rows. This will likely change as I get fitter, but for now my main goal is to start building back the fitness I’ve lost. I also use time restricted eating, consuming food only between 11:00 am and 07:00 pm. And the food I eat is different now. No more junk food. No fast food, only dark chocolate (none of the fattier delicious milk chocolate), no candy or soda pop and all vegetarian. And no alcohol. I binge drank and ate my way to this obesity and I am now paying the price.

 My starting weight is 377.43 pounds

My original weight goal is 202.82 pounds

I have had FFS

My surgery goals are BA and GRS

 So join me, if you like, on my journey to a better trans self. The planet is hurtling at an alarming rate towards a climate change induced apocalypse. Most people my age (I am in my late twenties) cannot expect to live to an old age. As the planet dies, so too will human civilization crumble. This journal is as much a saga of my transition and fitness as it is a memoir of my final years on Earth. My plan is, once I have reached my original weight, obtained my surgeries and conquered my mental demons, to revel in my new body, enjoy the pleasures of youth and then end my life on the footsteps of our government who has so callously rejected the cry of nature in her death throes. I cannot yet say when my suicide will be, for I do not intend to be stopped, but I will make it known as the date draws closer. I have no desire to grow old and watch the end of the humanity I so love, rather I shall terminate my life at my peak and pass on with happy sentiments and an existence well spent.

 I encourage anyone reading this to consider the same. As society falls I fear we will see humans grow cruel and turn against each other. Ideally the poor will rise up and viciously devour the rich who have neglected us, but of this I cannot be certain. What I believe is that Suicide Hysteria will sweep the globe. We see it kindling in the memes of youth, gallows humor making light of suicide and depression. The next step is action. When we common people become fully aware that all is lost there will be nothing to lose. I suggested Suicide Carnivals, maddening, beautiful, loving revelry dancing the dance of death together. Direct your violence and hatred to those in power who mock and neglect us. To each other, show unconditional love and bask in the beauty of death as one people. Would you rather endure historically unprecedented suffering as the planet burns us alive, fresh water shortages, crop failure, sea level rise, war for arable land, poverty, famine and death? Or would you rather live gloriously, peacefully and embrace the end before the storm? With the global rise of right wing extremist hatred, it is certain those in power have abandoned us. Many of the masses are either too ignorant, stupid or cruel to realize the peril we face. Use what power you have to convert those around you to recognize the immediate danger threatening all life on Earth. And if this results in you joining me in suicide, so be it.

 Mother Gwendoline

#Apocalypse #Fat #Fatphobia #Fitness #Health #LGBT #LGBTQ #Lifestyle #Queer #Trans #Trans woman #Transgender #Transition #Weight loss

[freshfromthegraveyard]

Bullying.

Super random.

As a kid who was bullied less by other students and more so by teachers.

I was bullied for my brain not matching my exterior. Being an embassy brat, when I came to the US for school I often was and still act like a foreigner in my own country. But I am a blonde white girl. So this was never well received. Not grasping certain things was seen as an act, or attention seeking. If I had the nerve to correct a teacher on something about a country I lived in. I was shot down in a publicly humiliating manor to ensure I knew my place. If I looked like someone from that country I gurantee they would have actually opened up the floor for me to discuss my homeland.

When I did start gaining weight due to an emotional trigger. I did still for some reason always maintain confidence in other areas. Like I knew I was getting chubby and fatter. But was like meh, whatever I'm still smart, funny and can draw. Heck I'm still a beast in PE. Running sucks but I can still do other shit. So I wasn't always picked last. I still had friends. If my weight was mocked I kind of got it and was like yah I did get fat but I can loose it. I was always active so it was never hard to lose a lil chub. Sadly I did go way past chub into super fat town and man losing that shit was hard and daunting. Still was the same me no matter what school I went to. Still made friends.

The only people I got super offended by when they made fun of my weight was the teachers. Because again, your an Adult picking on a kid. That is a low blow a cheap shot. Remarkably my bad grades have nothing to do with being fat. I don't go home and be like oh donuts well no time for school work. I will always have a learning disability, and a massive sleep disorder. Meds do help. I hate being one of THOSE people who fall under the excuses department but it is like night and day. It is not as simple as stfu and pay attention. I even got mad at myself thinking I was dumb because of this. Like yup, those honors classes you take now are just because of the meds. Your actually an idiot. Why do you take those AND a special class, why do you still take your tests in the library or have to read in total silence? Your dumb that's why! So I went off my meds to prove a point. The point wound up being my grades dropped and everything was so much more of a struggle. The stress was awful. It was the stupidest thing I could have done to myself. But just in case other generations feel that learning disabilities are cop outs. Please know. They aren't. Infact some people get tested for adult learning disabilities and it changes their lives.

Anyway, on back to bullying.

At one school, when I was first gaining the weight. I still had friends. I was still given the frog eye because of my white girl forgienerism, thankfully at that time I was in a private school and the teachers did not bully me about it because new flash private schools get military brats. Though I always had to write papers on countries I hadn't been to. Good call actually.

But here is the kicker. Though my bullying did not really start until public schools. Again I cannot stress enough that what was done by teachers was far more damaging then anything some kid could say.

I did, possibly unlike some bullied.

I always noticed who else was bullied.

I'm an odd lil bird in that, while I could be entirely self absorbed and be all about me. I remember who and why other kids for bullied.

I bet most people will think since I got bullied for being plump I only root for body positivity of the plump sort. You couldn't be more wrong.

The ONE person who had it the worst at the private school, was a tall lanky girl. She wanted the same thing all us girls wanted. To be like the cool girls at the time. She was thin due to her incredible metabolism, and her height, she was shy, and due to being made stand out, only getting shier. She was one of the first people I remember talking on my first day of school other then Rosemary a girl who just was genuinely cute and nice. I've yet to meet a Rosemary who wasn't. I get a whisper from a fellow student not to talk to this thin girl too much. I'm like.....why? Their like, well she's just kind of strange. I'm like, I'm new, so logically I'm gonna be the resident strange kid for a while. But how is she strange exactly. She just seems quite. Their like exactly. I'm like, 11 and confused af. I'm like, wait why is being quite weird in a bad way? Before I could spit most of that out the teacher agree on my suggestion of being quite. Being a embassy brat, I had NO probably striking up new convos with perfect strangers. Ie kids at a school I just met. Before the hell that was HS. I was anything BUT shy. When you move around a lot you need to make friends fast. That and I was born not giving a shit and thinking I was the shit. Before the weight gain I assure you I was cute as hell with attitude to spare. So I was not entirely wrong.

I didn't let this why is silent bad thing go. I still talked to this mysterious thin girl. I sat with her at lunch. Prior to that I kept asking why her just being quite was bad. They said it just made them uncomfortable. I did ask the obvious of did it ever occur to you guys that you treating her weird makes her silent. Their like no she came that way. I couldn't argue because a lot of these kids did know eachother since kindergarten so ya know. They maybe right even if it is wrong. In case you have not guessed. Being raised an only kid, overseas you have bennies of being treated like an adult and being more logical then a kid the same age. Hence why I sound more adult in this story cuz I always was even if I still enjoyed childish endeavors *Like I still do*

Here is the heart breaker. The thin girl at lunch enjoyed my company. I made her laugh a lot that day and got her talking *novel concept when you reach out to someone* at the end of lunch though. She said, this was nice but ya know you shouldn't really hang around me the other kids will black ball you. I'm like yeah, I don't care. She's like no, you should. I appreciate it, but another group has tried and the other kids make life hard on them. I'm like well I extra don't care. I said your kind of in luck. I don't stay at schools very long so by the time they do that to me I will probably be moving. Plus being the new kid I will be resident weirdo for a while. I can play dumb for a long time and befriend the black balled.

I told her which, I don't get why. I said, being shy is the last reason someone should be pushed aside. Granted it took me a few times to get you to talk BUT I gotcha damnit *swearing in Catholic school woot* *at a whisper less woot*

So I made friends, with the very group she spoke of who had made efforts to friend her. I also was friends with other groups. Including 2 class clowns, 2 twin black girls who too me for forever to realize they were twins. I had one jerk kid who ironically was a pretty chubby dude to be so judgy about me being a chubby chick. But I still was friends with thin girl be damned. Needed a book shared in class and no one would share with her. ME! And don't be fooled our one class clown never had a homework buddy because surprise ppl thought he couldn't be serious. ME! I think the funniest thing that happened at that school was rainy day recess where class was divided up for games. Started up with normal dictionary teams. Then Okay Megan is really good at this, let's pair her with the one person who isn't. Okay still really good at this both drawing and guessing. Let's make the team's be class vs Megan. It's only fair. Sorry it still amuses me. My one glory day.

Back to bullying.

Though at the private school, bullying was far minimal. and kids really had to be imaginative. Since we all wore uniforms. Kids had to be like, well they make us laugh, but he's probably not serious about his hw. Woo. Wow. Lame. She's too quite. So lame. She's too smart. All of these are so damn lame. And let's face it none are bad qualities. Sorry the kid finds hw boring and is a quick whit. You actually have to be smart to be fast in humor. She's quite. So she's reserved and actually nice if you reach out. Your only too smart if you can't use your book sense.

Now, public school. Girl was made fun of for being too thin, having the nerve to go through puberty *ie acne* and also was very shy, if not stand offish, not dressing nice enough. If anything, id say she tried to look her worst regardless of what students said. I could go on about warning signs this child had. My mom caught them instantly. Did the school? NO

Turns out she was being molested by her stepdad. Like, srsly. My mom met her once and got it. Oy. So sad. I have a lot of guilt for not being able to communicate better with her though.

Anyway, another girl, got made fun of for having big boobs which she hated especially during PE. I don't blame her.

Yet another girl made fun of for being too thin. She was petite and had all brothers. So she was small and mean.

Another girl was shaped more like a guy and strong. She excelled in some PE sports but still made fun of.

Guys, same deal. If they had curly hair that's a pain to style. Chubby but not good at sports. And idky other kids care if you are good at grades or not? Like, we all have the same hw if you can spell congrats. Some ppl have dyslexia so ya know kindly fuck off.

Why does a grade make you popular or not?

It's odd to me. It's like, you need to get good grades but not TOO GOOD cuz then your too smart and it's also weird. Public school bullying. Lawd have mercy. Talk about a new level of awful.

Again, I was attacked publically by teachers. Who decided I was infact fat and stupid and somehow cheating at art?

I had art taken away from me as it was a distraction. Since I was bad at reading out loud all of my work was to be delivered in this fashion. I corrected a teacher on some foreign affairs, as he got locations, pronunciation, law, and well just a fucking lot wrong about a country I lived in for so long. I held myself back on so much but it was like he was getting everything confused with an entirely different country. For one thing he was still mentioning a city by it's old name. Like omg update

your book man!!! When I finally sad something he blew a stack and made sure everyone in the class was aware of how fat and ignorant I was.

When I told my parents. Boy did they come undone. At the parent teacher conference this same teacher said "if Megan would put down the donuts and study this wouldn't be an issue" yah my dad pinned him to a wall by his neck. Mind you this was after he had already

Made repeated digs at me, my family, and pretty much anything we could stand for. My parents also made the argument that if a student was a concert pianist or a ballet dancer. Would they take away their craft? No. So why take away my art? Both piano and ballet are considered art. Needless to say this battle of the teachers vs parents and all the horrible things they said and did was not over. Two shrinks were involved, and the state was called in. Their shrink and our shrink. The shrinks wound up agreeing and asked the state to come in for a learning disability test. Hence me first getting diagnosed. The shrinks also needed the teachers to understand something. They brought my mom in, since the one teacher now feared my father *not that my mom couldn't take him* the teachers sat down, the shrinks showed them pics of me thin and active and the dates. They show me chubby then thin again due to being an active kid. They then ask when my recent weight gain started. My mom didn't even hesitate she just took off her wig from cancer to reveal her bald head and said about when this happened. She said she was studying to finalize some culinary school work at a local college. She said she knows her daughter felt food was an emotional way to be close to her. My shrink said. Sometimes fat is better then too thin. You can lose fat. You can't undo the damages of too thin if bulimia sets in.

So you'd think the teachers would back off. Ha. No. That one male teacher persisted that everyone has problems and I needed to suck it up. I was now all of 12. He loved making fun of me. I also noticed, though I was his favorite to pick on. I was not alone. He hated anyone who could not read out loud flawlessly. He hated anyone who was not athletic and bragged about his triathlons to this day I get an eye tick around the word. Friend of mine was a solid A student. Read flawlessly outloud. But guess what she had some small kid pudge on her. The second her history teacher went into his class. There goes her straight As. She got a B- in his class. Never on tests with multiple choice, just written work and general performance. Ya know subjective stuff. Not shady at all. Mom got wind and had enough. She sat in his class one day. In my friends class no less. Not mine on purpose. She sat their and made fun of him the way he did us. She's like hey kids, I know this guy makes fun of all the students. Let's make fun of him the same way. Isn't he kind of short? Like really short. I met his wife, he must use a step ladder to kiss her. He's also bald. Notice how he only keeps pictures of himself in tight triathlon clothes or old pics with long hair. Think he's compensating for something?? Who keeps pics of themselves on their desk!?! My husband has his family. Self centered much?

And what's with those triathlons anyway?

We notice you hate fatties. Were you a fatty? Do you run from calories? Did a fatty break your heart? What is it? Why do you hate them So? She's like, actually, it doesn't matter. Whatever your problem is it should not be taken out on children. My mom continued. She's like, ya know why he picks on you kids. One your the only people smaller then him. Two he is to cowardly to stand up to other adults. My husband pinned him against a wall and his eyes nearly popped out of his head from terror. Yeah. All talk this little fart. He obviously was livid talking over her saying she can't do this, he's calling the cops for trespassing.

Apparently when she opened the room up to the kids to pick at him they had a bunch of weird shit they noticed he does. One kid said he's just jealous because everyone likes his wife as a teacher better. That's why he made her stay home with the kids or keep having a kid. She's like everyone liked her? Whole room was like best teacher award every year!

Lol this dude didn't speak for days he was just fuming. It got better when, guess what my mom met his wife and put on her best cute, sweet innocent lady routine. I remember walking to our truck, douche teacher behind me. *cuz of course I had to stay after in his class for some kind of punishment*

His wife was all smiles at my mom, looked over at him with such a look. My mom had an evil smile looking at him like. Checkmate mother fucker. I sat in the truck, waiting for her. Dressed daper. Smiling. She sets behind the wheel, we drive off. She's like well we tried the proper channels first. He made me play dirty but I assure you the war is over.

So, turns out, his wife was a loved teacher BECAUSE she had a lot of patience for her students and taught both standard and kids with learning disabilities. So to say she was understanding is an understatement. I mean, my mom didn't know this when speaking to her. It was actually a whim, when she saw her while waiting to pick me up and just got to talking.

Anyway, the point of this INSANELY long post.

Is as a kid that was not so much bullied by peers as much as by teachers. I also was not always bullied about my weight as much as just being considered an attention seeking liar THEN my intelligence and weight was thrown in for extra damage.

It is true, the book by its cover. I am still a foreigner in a American white girl body. I still have some wires crossed. I still don't know all customs or referrences. My spelling is bad. My accent isnt. Family was 2 people. My perspective is Global. Africa, Asia, an American Farm is my background.

Bullying, just cuz I got fat. Doesn't mean I didn't see the people who got made fun of for being too thin. Before I stopped struggling in school. I noticed kids got bullied for their grades. As if the school and parents are not going to add enough pressure. If you have a talent that is not a sport or a musical instrument. You are not of value. Which is funny in a society that worships actors and models. All of whom rarely look a thin like they look like now in school.

There have been a lot of school shootings over the years. I remember when Columbine happened.

Remember early on in my status of the thin girl? Regardless of people telling me again and again that I would be some social pyria for being nice to her. I still did it. Over and over. I did more to make myself look stupid then she ever could have. Nothing ever happened to me because of her. Even if it had. I wouldn't have cared. Because I had a friend in her. We would at least be weirdos together was my logic.

If you make the effort. More then once. Because some shells are really hard to crack. Because some people have been hurt a lot. At least you tried. In COLLEGE none the less. My roommate and I met quite possibly the most socially awkward creature alive. We tried repeatedly to make friends or at least make peace with this creature. To no damn ivale. Senior yr this person asked me why no one likes them. I told them that wasn't fair because we all have made efforts to involve them in groups, shinnangans, hang out, we even through JUST them a birthday party. We have all made the effort. It's a two way street. I said basically you want friends like robots. You want us to turn on when you want us and power down in an instant when you are done with us and offer nothing in return. You also cannot be rude to ppl and expect forgiveness when there is really no foundation or trust built. We can say honest things because we know that friend is a friend and is sincere and cares for our best interest. You tend to think blurting out something offensive saying no offensive it's just my opinion and smiling is some how okay. It's just awkward.

So in that particular occassion. 4 years. My friend and I, as well as others. Genuinely tried to make friends or something with this person. Some people just want or view friendship differently. They may find a perfect fit later who is not you. But DAMNIT you tried. With bullying I just want people to reach out.

And if you see someone IN THE PROCESS of being bullied. Get off your ass and intervene.

Believe it or not, confusion is a great tactic.

Say 3 ppl are picking on a kid at lunch in your school. You could approach and interupt. You do not have to get personal. If they pick on you next. Point that out. Like what tools they are that that is all they can do. Bring friends over to help break it up. Honestly when I say confusion is a great weapon I mean it. Make up gibberish and start talking like that. Speak another language the bullies won't know. Anything that will just frustrate them and make them leave. Essentially your goal is to not engage with them, be as annoying as possible and make them leave. Another strategy is to be as agreeable as possible, so sickeningly friendly that they also lose their momentum. Gauge your situation, the energy and see which would work best. They sound absurd but diffusing a situation is far better.

The key is, don't sit by and let someone suffer.

Don't join in. Also guess what. As juicey and fun as gossip seems especially in school. Guess what, it's usually lies and incredibly harmful. If you partake you are an accessory to bullying. Shocking I know.

Learning how stop gossip in it's tracks when you are young is a great life lesson.

Sadly you will run into gossip at all stages of life. So stopping it, ...as best you can. When your young. Can safe a life!

The thing about gossip. If people don't have good dirt on someone, they will make shit up. Movies like Mean Girls and Easy A point this out. I've heard gossip about myself or friends and some is almost laughable how ridiculous it is. But going up to someone and being like hey is it true this that or the other. Or treating them different all of a sudden. As if we also don't hear the whispers.

Gossip is just a form of bullying. So think about it as being an accessory to a crime. It is equally as serious. Like a crime, you have the power to stop it.

So many people talk of the mass shootings, what about the kids who are as young as 8 taking their own lives due to bullying.

I really cannot stress enough, to please, if you see someone being bullied. Help that victim in the moment. Step in, bring back up. Be confusing. Be nice. Be whatever it takes to save a life or lives.

Also it is clear the bullying is caused from something. Usually bullies are being bullied themselves or have some sort of problem.

I remember reading one story of a bully who came unhinged over the smallest thing. Would lie in wait and actually burned another child with scalding hot water. Now that story was a case for mental illness. Which brings me to a situation. If a person is a bully and being bullied by someone else. Like another sibling, a parent, or so forth. That is rough because really not everyone can afford counseling which is what that would require. Next if someone is displaying violence due to a mental illness that too would require counseling, psychiatric and possibly medication down the road. All expensive.

It's not fair that mental healthcare of any kind is a luxury. When no one chooses to have mental health issues. Most insurance companies only allow so many visits. Not nearly enough to scratch the surface of a garden much less the human mind. Plus if medication was involved, that is such an arguous process. Any mental health medication is a huge battle of trial and error and all medications take a while to get into your system. For one to be properly judged for mental health, has to be in your system long enough for you to have had your moods elevated. Essentially were you challenged at all in 6 months time? Did you have a reason to get angry, or be depressed. Anything to trigger mood swings to see how the medication altered your brains reaction.

I mean damn. That is a lot to wait for, and rarely does the first shoe fit.

After working in a local ER. I realized how sad, and how many holes are in our health care system. How long people have to wait to see anyone. How long for a room to become available. How short your treatment is.

At the same turn. When you come across none feeling bullies. The type they tell young kids to kill themselves. That hound them every day and night. Stalk them on any outlet they can find. Because they have nothing better to do then bring one person misery. When do they become accountable?

I do believe some bullies need help to stop the cycle. I also believe some have shown signs that they live a charmed life, are not bullied themselves and show no signs of a mental illness. They have admitted to just being board. *maybe the mental illness is in the path family ;>_>*

Anyway, for those few bullies that qualify. I just wonder if they should be held accountable for say a wrongful death. If the person they taunted or catfished killed themselves.

I often think that because bullying has no consequences that that is why it continues.

That if it had something truly scary to face. Maybe then kids would cut the shit.

We all know, those who have been bullied. That if you talk to an authority figure. Absolutely NOTHING happens. You still get bullied.

ladies. Hahaha isn't that rich?

And what of those rare occasions where those teachers where beaten by students on a gang like scene? What then?

Or in reverse in my situation? Where I was bullied for the majority of my life BY the faculty. Who do I turn to in a school and say, your staff is picking on me?

My last job had a bullying situation.

It was unbelievable to watch unfold. It wasn't even in my department per say. In the employee handbook it said they took bullying seriously. They had a senior staff member who was a out of control bully. She had great work history, but I guess her head got too big. She bullied everyone something awful and they lost countless people due to it. Here's the thing, while she did EVENTUALLY get fired for bullying. It took a while. A lot of new employees where very honest about why they were leaving. Many current employees made it known that all the reasons things never progressed or moral was low was bullying. Apparently this was brought up in staff meetings but went no where. It finally came to a head when they got a new boss on the floor, and a long time employee moved from one department down to that one. I guess her statement was more believable then that of new employees saying I'm leaving because I was bullying.

The thing that bothers me is. A why would a new employee lie? A new employee wants to fit in. They want to do there best. They have to learn the motion of the ocean real quick. They wanted that job. I doubt they wanted to leave that job so quickly. For one it never looks good on a resume. Do you know how defeating it is to be bullied that bad into leaving?

That is why I find it sad they did not listen to the previous statements. I understand that for a bullying case to stick. I guess they needed plenty of evidence. I know they certainly had it.

But in the case of schools. A friend of mine teachers whee toddlers. From babies to 3yr olds. And she has told me how early they start bullying.

Back to my statement on whether it's mental illness, they are being bullied elsewhere or if nothing at all is wrong. Are factors. Because listening to her. She has seen all three that young already and it's like wow if you can catch it that early. Again we could save lives on both sides of the situation.

Sorry random memory lane. Coupled with some random thoughts about current events.

#bullying #mass shooting #stop bullying #suicide #help #overseas #mental health #children #teens #young adults #gossip #don't be assholes #morel of the story

[pixelatedlenses]

2017 in Review

All questions originally made from here. I copied and didn’t change them, but wanted to answer them in my own post. 

2017 is about... two hours and fifty-five minutes from being done, and while I’m tired, I do want to stay up until the new year comes so I can drink some Hello Kitty kid’s champagne with my mom then pass out on the sofa bed.

So here’s a detailed review of my 2017. Below the cut since it’s quite a bit wordy.

1. What did you do in 2017 that you’d never done before?

This year, I tried Koto! My teacher for shamisen plays both instruments -koto and shami- so I decided to give it a try. No regrets: I absolutely love it and will be playing my first concert on 1/27. It’s really exciting and has inspired me to try my hand at a few other instruments.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

No and yes: I didn’t make resolutions, but I have made goals for next year that I truly plan to keep. All of them are completely for me: I’m really making 2018 about my care.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

No. I think not at least. A close friend got married though.

Wait, no! One of the ALTs got married and had a son: she lives in Tokyo now.

4, Did anyone close to you die?

Yes, a family friend at my church back home. It was quite sad, but I feel that she’s at peace right now. I, thankfully, think few others passed.

5. What countries did you visit?

Can I count Japan because… Japan. I am planning on going to South Korea in 2018 though!

6. What would you like to have in 2018 that you lacked in 2017?

Time and patience with myself. We’re working on both starting tomorrow. I would also like the ability to budget my time for me better.

7. What dates from 2017 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

July 25, 2017. It was the day that after an active four years of being in love with my best friend, she inadvertently gave me the courage to confess to her, only to find the feelings are mutual. It’s 9:39 p.m. on the last day of the year and I still can’t believe this happened.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Recontracting with my school, earning my TEFL, and going to therapy again. Also, really mastering riding my bike with two baskets: that’s a huge achievement in my book.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Not getting help before I needed it and letting others influence me too much.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

In August, I got food poisoning, in September, I caught a cold, and in October, I got strep throat. It was a....rough time for my body these last four months.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Honestly, my slow cooker, bamboo tableware, and my chromebook, all last quarter purchases!

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

My homestay students. They showed up for a week straight to afternoon lessons with me and ended up having the experience of a lifetime in Australia. I’m just so, so proud of them.

Shoutout to my supervisor too: she’s really come through for me even though we just met.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

Quite a few ALTs who are actin’ like we’re not twenty-something year old adults in charge of children and the man who spit on me.

14. Where did most of your money go?

New computer/chromebook, Yuri!! On ICE, books, and clothing.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

The re-release of the W.I.T.C.H. comics. I’m still hyped, enough that I keep listening to the playlist on repeat everyday.

16. What song will always remind you of 2017?

Echo feat. Gumi by Crusher-P

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: (a) happier or sadder? (b) thinner or fatter? (c ) richer or poorer?

Happier, thinner, and so-so on the cash.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Loving myself.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Being hard on myself and trying to change. I was incredibly critical of myself this year, and that… was not always good.

20. How did you spend Christmas?

With my mother in Japan and with my friend James in Tokyo. There was lots of FMA with the latter.

21. Did you fall in love in 2017?

All over again. I expect that in 2018, I’ll say the same about my precious partner. Once again, I’ll confess that I’m still in shock that someone is as into me as I am them, and also thinks I’m sexy. I feel immensely attractive.

22. What was your favorite TV program?

Shinya Shokudo, Super Sonico, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, and Blazing Transfer Students.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

No, and that’s a blessing I think.

24. What was the best book you read?

I really loved Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet by Becky Chambers and also Fran Wilde’s Updraft.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

REOL and Crusher-P. Shame that REOL is breaking up, but honestly, I love all three members so much.

26. What did you want and get?

I wanted to finally own lolita clothing, and I got my first outfit from indie label Lady Sloth. It’s a chocolate themed coordination, and let’s be honest: I look splendid.

27. What did you want and not get?

I really wanted to take the JLPT and I just didn’t have the chance. NExt year though.

28. What was your favorite film of this year?

It came late but I really did like the new FMA live action. Also, I really loved Koe no Katachi a lot.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I turned 25 this year and spent it with a 102 degree fever in bed. Next year, y’all.

I did, however, receive lots of drawing goods which means people listened to what I wanted. Rather pleased with that.

30. What one thing made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Discovering the joys of taking myself on a date. I am really good company

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2017?

Soft Librarian Chic

32. What kept you sane?

Hope and knowing that everything comes to an end in time.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

None really.

34. Who did you miss?

In no particular order: my mother, my friend-turned-partner, my dog, my father, and my sisters, who are really two of my best friends from childhood.

35. Who was the best new person you met?

Probably my supervisor and principal.

36. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2017.

I’ll give you a few, actually:

You can tell how much a person values by how they start a text conversation.

Nothing can prepare you for crying on a bus ride home.

Listen to a river: it’ll help you understand what to do next.

Sometimes, people who you give to will never care to give back. Stop giving to them once you realize that’s all our ever going to get. 

It’s not selfish to expect kindness in return for giving kindness.

37. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

So since I got big back into Italian comic series -and American animation series-  W.I.T.C.H., I want to share lyrics for what I found at the end of this year. It’s Taranee Cook’s imagine song, and really helped me when I was hurting a lot. Taranee is a character that really inspired me growing up and continues to now: though timid, bookish, and often the first to be considered weak, Taranee’s ability to overcome inspires me.

Let’s end the year with her image song “Fire”.

I often wonder what’s my purpose. I always would search deep inside. I found myself lost in the dark until the day that I let my light shine.

Each day I know I’m getting strong. The path is much clearer to me. Now I can with the world the gift that I have, for everyone, around me to see.

There’s a fire that burns deep inside. There’s a light that I use as my guide. I can put all my troubles behind me when I warm every heart with the fire that lies inside me.

#2k17 #thoughts #ablogwithaview #end of the year thoughts

[steamishot]

End of July

i think i’ll be starting my period sometime in the next 24 hours. my friend who i am synced with just started hers this morning. tomorrow, i am using a sick day to go to to dentist. my dentist is in san gabriel- a 20 minute drive east of my home. in the past, i would only take a half day, but then i thought, why am i stressing and rushing myself to go to work when i have all these sick hours. even more so when there’s not much pending at work. so, i plan on going to the dentist in the morning, having lunch in the area, then coming home and painting my living room and kitchen. my dad asked one of his home depot contacts to come work for us lol. i’ll be taping and painting along with him tomorrow so the job gets done faster. just came back from home depot earlier and bought two gallons of shiny luster paint- the same shade and sheen as my room. i also bought a darker grey to paint the borders for contrast. hopefully it looks good. a few weeks ago, our gallon full of coins got topped off. my mom would sit and individually package the coins into the sleeves banks provide whenever we wanted to exchange the coins for cash- this would take her nearly half a day. not sure why we never used coinstar before, but we finally did it. i learned that its an 11% fee if you exchange the coins for cash, but there is no fee when you exchange for a gift card. so, with one gallon full of coins, we got about $350 total- i put about half on a home depot gift card, and half on an amazon gift card. it was funny/so coincidental today that our total came out to be exactly 2 dollars less of our home depot gift card (my dad also had things to buy and we weren’t computing the costs).

events this past weekend: friend’s going away party. she received a scholarship from fullbright- which is a prestigious academic award to represent the US in international affairs. i didn’t realize how honorable it was til today and previously saw it as another “teach english abroad” opportunity. we ate at roe seafood in long beach. i thought the food was pretty bomb- i’d give it a 7/10. however, the more i ate of my scallop porcini pasta- the more water i had to drink. taste wise it was definitely there, but the cheese/carb combo was so damn heavy. i liked the group and it felt easy/natural to socialize (also because i was sitting in between my good friends b and s). in my last blog, i was venting about b, but i realize in the grand scheme of things- the little things i get annoyed by don’t matter. she continued to do the things i got ticked off by over text, but instead of getting irritated, i tried to teach myself to be loving and forgiving and think- she’s not me, i’m not her, don’t think that what i think is the “right” way of doing things is actually right. we had a nice time together that night. good vibes throughout. 

watched lion king with my mom, grandma, bro and wife. i went into the movie having low expectations due to what everyone else was saying, but i enjoyed it. the fact that we got to live through seeing the cartoon version in 1994 to seeing it full in CGI in 2019 is incredible. i love the storyline of lion king. the scene where mufasa dies always gets me. i had to hold back tears during the emotional parts of the movie lol. 

matt’s free time is decreasing and decreasing. he now has to work 6 days a week. he’s at work before i wake up, and still at work after i’m off work. on a GOOD day, he’ll only be at the hospital for about 13 hours, on a bad day, maybe 16 :(. he also has to study outside of work as they have monthly exams. saturday was his one day off during the week and it was kinda sad lol. he has one day to catch up on sleep and he’s too tired to do anything else. he tells me that he doesn’t have time to drink water at work, let alone use the restroom. his lunch consists of downing a soylent. his hospital is severely understaffed and he is doing nurses’ duties (drawing blood, patient care taking). he normally calls me right after he gets off work. i get to talk to him for about an hour or so, while he’s prepping dinner and eating. he then goes shower and gets ready to sleep and i get to see him again for a few minutes before he sleeps. i feel lucky that i’m the one he wants to talk to and see every day. i hope i brighten up his day, as he keeps saying he’s “dying” lol. when he didn’t match into a residency program, he was depressed. now that he’s in residency, it’s also depressing (but at least there is an end in sight). apparently the second and third year residents are super jaded and negative. i wouldn’t be surprised if he became like that in a year lol. on saturday, he called me right before i was going to shower. so i told him that i’ll call him back afterwards. as i got out of the shower, i saw a message from him saying - take your time, i’m gonna go shower too. so i took my time and started getting ready for the going away dinner. he called me 10-15 later and was like “you didn’t call me back!” there was something so satisfying about him being needy and clingy LOL. he’s naturally an independent cerebral person so i love it when he is needy. 

saturday night at like 1am, i got a random text from L asking me about relationship stuff. coincidentally, i couldn’t sleep cus your girl would have been dead asleep by 11 any other day. i’m happy that she felt comfortable enough to reach out to me and share her feelings. i learned that we both are perfectionistic, have unrealistically high expectations, and are quite sensitive. she cares a lot about how others/her friends perceive her relationship. she shared with me an instance where her bf came off a bit rude to her in front of her friends and she felt “very disappointed” in him. if i place myself in her shoes, i can understand why she felt hurt. and if its an reoccurring thing, then i’m sure the pain is stronger. however, being “very disappointed” in your partner for being human is stressful for both you and them because you set unrealistic standards for the relationship. she wasn’t able to let it go and gave the incident more attention than it needed. from hearing her story, i basically saw my problems in someone else. it makes me realize how silly and crazy i am sometimes in making mountains out of molehills. i used to think that it was good to have high standards for your partner, and i often felt disappointed by my last partner. i think it reflected more on myself than him- my needs weren’t being met, i wasn’t happy in the relationship, i stayed with an incompatible partner, etc. having “high” standards is only valuable if the standards are attainable and something that can be worked towards. 

i feel very happy with my current partner. being away from him for almost two months now has allowed me time to reflect on us and myself. i’m way more forgiving with the distance, and considerate about his new schedule and circumstance. in my last relationship, i started seeing the flaws around 8/9 month mark. and if i was smart and experienced enough, i would have realized those were dealbreakers (because in the end, i broke up with him for the same reasons). coming up on 9 months with matt, i feel secure and that our issues are small issues. we’re able to get along and have similar values and ideals. 

his words can sometimes come off harsh but i’ve gotten used to it and actually really appreciate him being honest and constructive with me. a week or so before he left, i was hanging out in his room. i forgot what we were talking about before but he said, “you would be much much prettier if you worked out. not that you don’t look good now, but you would look better if you worked out.” i was a little bothered by that at first, but realized he is 100% correct. i never paid attention to my body much before- but skinny fat is not a good look or feel. my bikini pics in hawaii were meh lol i was flabby, weak and out of shape. i started working out recently with dumbbells and find it so fun- more efficient work out than without any equipment. working out also helps my face maintain its shape. i realized in the past months my face started looking more bloated and fat. i’ve even received comments from two of my older friends - “you got fatter. but just in your face.” i was never mindful of how my diet and exercise routine affected how i looked. which is really dumb as a human lol. i kinda wish i was more athletic when i was younger because i’m almost just starting from scratch now. however, i am grateful that i was at least somewhat active (hiking here and there, walking, leisurely workouts) in the last few years. so, he helped me gain weight to be at a normal range (this is the heaviest i’ve been my whole life). now it’s my job to tone myself. i’ve been saying this for some time, but i’m getting more cognizant about fitness which will help the consistency. 

throughout our time together, he’s only lost his patience/raised his voice a little twice during arguments. the last time he did actually helped so much in putting me in my place. he is very smart and makes pretty good arguments sometimes haha. the last time, it made me realize that it’s better to nourish my relationship rather than bring drama into it. since then, i’ve thought twice about bringing up small issues that i can learn to let go. i love that he pushes and inspires me to be better and to be hardworking. and i’m glad i’m pretty receptive to his ideas. 

i read old conversations with my past partner today. it was super cringy. i come off as cold, inquisitive, and serious and he comes off as immature, emotional and uninterested in my thoughts. even reading through our messages now i felt the frustration i felt when i was talking to him then. i felt i was always trying to change him into the person i wanted him to become. i saw the potential but i didnt see the person he was. to me, he was gross, trashy and had many insecurities. the more separated i am from it, the more i am disgusted with myself for choosing that lol. however, i am grateful for what he taught me, which was what attracted me to him in the first place- how to be intimate emotionally and physically, how to talk about feelings, how to communicate, how to talk about more difficult subjects, how to bring up issues, how to understand what i’m feeling, etc. 

[talesofwight]

The Last Resort

((As I’ve had a week away from the computer and all things gaming-related really, I’ve had a lot of time to think about stories and stuff. And so I was really set on writing a little something out when I got back, and here it is! Took me a few hours. Sadly Tumblr doesn’t maintain the formatting I was trying to uphold. 

Also I guess a mild trigger warning for people that don’t wanna read violence and stuffs.

Still, it came out okay I think. Below the cut because I don’t wanna clog no dashes!))

'Hold 'er down!' Commanded a the highlander figure, garbed as a Captain of the Brass Blades in a voice almost as rough as the desert sands around them. 'Bloody bitch bites!' His nearby subordinate replied as he and another, both seemingly midlanders, struggled to hold a thrashing form down against the sun-baked dirt of Thanalan.

Brass Blades. The supposed peace keepers of the desertous region's city-state, Ul'dah. Corrupt and a mere shadow of what one who upholds the law should be. Here they were holding a squirming girl to the ground - couldn't have been a day past her sixteenth summer. Her clothes were shredded and her face was beaten and bloody, yet she railed against, and cursed at, the two men restraining her regardless.

The girl's resilience would've been impressive to the stranger in any other circumstance. He had a good view from the back of his chocobo - August. Typical. He thought bitterly to himself. As sad as it was to think, such things were not uncommon. She looked to be a refugee, likely had nothing to her name. Made her an easy target for a sick mind. Or three. He slowly drew the chocobo to a halt, the gesture prompted a curious 'kweh' from his steed. 'I'll be a moment.' He dismounted from the chocobo with a metallic clunk, his ash-grey plate armour glinting in the sun's rays, a long greatsword of wicked design hanging from his back, adding extra weight to the ensemble. He was slow to approach, fighting to keep the contempt from his face and voice as he called out. 'Surely this young one has committed a truly terrible deed to be handled so by you, three upstanding men of the Brass Blades, Ul'dah's protectors.' His words hung in the air as all three men suddenly ceased what they were doing and turned to look at the stranger, their expressions hidden behind the masked turbans they wore. Eventually, the captain strode forward a few steps, sizing up the sudden interrupter, spitting and placing a hand on the hilt of the scimitar which hung at his hip. 'Oh aye, that she has. Stole our good men's attention what they should've been giving to the patrol, ain't that right fellas?' The smugness practically dripped from him. 'Bloody whore, stop yer strugglin' if ye wanna leave here with yer life!' His subordinates had returned to holding the girl in place, the second mirroring the ugly words of the first. 'Away an' plough each other's arses, bastards!' The girl spat back. She had a fire in her. 'Right, well. As you can see, we've got the situation well in hand.' The captain picked up. 'Now why don't you get back on yer 'bo and be on yer way? Be a shame for a lone traveller to get killed by bandits, eh?' He grinned through his spindly moustache and soul patch, exposing crooked and rotten teeth. The stranger was still some few paces away, but he imagined they probably gave off quite the smell. 'That would be a shame. Though probably not quite so much as the three Blades that went out on patrol and were never seen from again.' He smiled dangerously back. 'Yer lookin' to start a fight, that it? Against the three o' us? Pah!' 'No.' 'So yer gonna leave?' 'No.' The captain stared on at him for several moments, only then freeing his sword from its sheath with a metallic hiss. 'Ah'm warnin' you, boy. Be off, or its yer head.' He sounded scared. Fear was just what he wanted. He raised a hand over his right shoulder, drawing his greatsword from his back with a far more menacing hiss, the blade tracing an arc in the air as it was brought into a readied position. 'Last chance!' The captain shouted. One of his two goons - the fatter of the two, he noted - stepped away from the girl and formed rank with his superior, drawing his own scimitar. Silence descended on the path once more, and off in the distance a wild bird soaring overhead let out a screeching cry. It all happened in a moment after that. The pair charged, bearing down upon the lone traveller. It was a decent strategy, but their movements were sluggish and slow. Probably already drunk. In that moment of their attack, the stranger remembed the age-old rule for fighting multiple opponents.

How do you kill a man on a battlefield? Cut through the man next to him.

And that is exactly what he did. Summoning to mind the anger at the sight he witnessed, he felt the surge of power flowing through his veins. It manifested as a black-blue flame that flowed from his chest to his sword arm, and into his weapon, causing the razor-sharp edge to take on a crespicule glow. He readied himself, and swung. The extended reach of his sword proved fiendishly effective as, it met the outer hip of the charging grunt. His steel flashed and cut through the chainmail armour as though it were paper. It tore through the man's chest in a diagonal direction, coming free at the shoulder, where it continued to travel. The look of shock and fear on the captain's face just barely had time to form before his head found itself hurtling through the air and landing with a wet thud, even before the two bodies had dropped, wetting the dry earth with two mixing pools of crimson. He exhaled a long breath, easing his stance though still bringing his sword back to the ready. Within a moment his cold, grey eyes had turned to look at the remaining Blade, struggling all the more to hold the kicking girl by his lonesome. Seeing that his comrades were soundly butchered, he exhibited the typical reaction. He reached for his belt and drew a knife, suddenly holding it to the girl's throat. 'D-don't come any closer, or else...!' He stammered. His hand was shaking. The girl stopped fighting suddenly, the look of anger fading to be replaced with fear. She looked helpless, and stared imploringly at the man who just killed two members of the law enforcement - their blood still dripping from the end of his sword. 'You're all alike. Always your last resort. Well I'm sorry to tell you this, but I'm not here for her. I'm here for you. Even if she dies, you'll still be feeling the sting of my six fulm-long blade stabbing through your entire body. Do whatever you feel will ease your passing into Thal's realm. You have ten seconds. Ten...' 'W-wait... wait, please!' 'Nine.' 'Don't-- don't do this!' 'Eight.' 'I've a wife at home!' 'Seven.' 'You're a bloody monster--' 'Six.' 'No better than you think of me!' 'Five.' 'I don't want to die!' 'Four.' There would never be another plead from the Blade's lips. Fear washed over him like a wave. His hands shook uncontrollably, his teeth chattered and sweat poured from behind his mask. He abruptly dropped the knife, let go of the girl and turned to run. He made it three steps before the stranger raised his hand, summoning to mind the fear he inspired in the Blade, the threw his right hand forward. A surge of spiked, chaotic red energy flowed down his arm to his palm, whereupon it expanded into a series of circular runes floating around the wrist. A flash emitted from the center of his palm as a ball of churning red spikes flew at the retreating guardsman. An ilm before contact could be made the ball detonated, sending a hail of jagged spikes into the back of the now-stopped figure, slumping forward onto the ground and showcasing the extensive needlework that the dark spell had wrought. All was silent again.

'...Th... thanks fer savin' me...' The girl spoke quietly. 'I did say I didn't do it for you. He looked down at her, slicing at the air with his sword in one hand, spraying what remained of two Blades' blood onto the ground. 'That said, I might've told a lie. Gets them every time, though. He grinned, and for all the wickedness in that grin, it did little to hide his fair looks, even despite the large scar marring his brow. 'At any rate, you should get out of here as soon as possible. I can give you a lift if need be. August is good to carry two.' He strode up to the still midly shocked child and offered a gauntleted hand. She regarded him with trace amounts of fear - such was normal. He had grown accustomed to being looked at like that. Though as the moments passed the fear gave way to a smile. A wide, toothy grin that fit her freckled face perfectly. 'Yer 'bo is named 'August'? You some kinda prissy bugger?' She laughed. 'Would you think any less of me if I said I was?' He responded, a trace of humour in his own voice. 'Well... I suppose I'd let ye off the hook for it, just this once. Circumstances bein' what they are and all.' She reached out and took the offered hand, easily being pulled to her feet. She was light. Probably malnourished. The rags she wore were loose-fitting, so it was difficult to say for certain. 'My thanks for that. I'm Rufus. And you are?' 'Krysta! Ye know ye just murdered three Blades, right Ser Rufus?' 'I suppose that's how it seems. Though those men forsook their right to be called protectors of the people the very instant they tried it on. Azeyma only knows whether you were the first victim...' 'So what're ye supposed to be? Some big, true protector o' the innocent?' 'Something along those lines. I just don't have a lot of love for people that abuse their station to commit crimes, thinking they are untouchable.' 'Yer the weirdest knight I ever thought I'd meet, Ser Rufus. Still... I'm glad you came.' He gave her a smile as he guided her around the still-warm corpses on the roadside and along to his loyally waiting chocobo. Met with a 'wark' of joy to be reunited, Rufus first helped Krysta climb into the saddle, then taking up August's reins and walking out before the feathery steed, leading him. 'Where is home for you, Krysta?' 'Well...' 'Nowhere to go?' She slowly shook her head. 'Ma and Da're both gone. Can't really do much by meself. I'll prolly have to end up a strumpet just so I can get a good meal...' He frowned to himself, glancing over his shoulder at the saddlebag, hanging at the chocobo's flank. They kept walking.

They soon found themselves on the outskirts of Ul'dah, stood before the Gates of Nald, just a short way from Stonesthrow - so aptly named. Krysta looked uneasily at the settlement from the saddle. '...I don't wanna live in squalor like that...' She mumbled. 'You won't have to.' He led the chocobo inside the gates, guiding it and the rider off to the left of the busy avenue to the chocobo stables. With a gesture and some light assistance, he brought Kysta down from the saddle. 'So... what'm I supposed  to do?' The child asked, looking nervously at the huge walls now encasing them. 'You'll see'. 'That... doesn't give me confidence...' He reached within the saddlebag before August was led off to be fed, brushed and watered, producing a handful of long, razor-sharp fangs from it. He bundled them into his arms and turned, beginning to walk the opposite way across the avenue with many an adventurer and citizen alike. 'Keep up! Don't want you getting lost!' He called, and Krysta came running up to his side. The image must've looked odd to others, but he paid them little mind and kept walking. Across the avenue, he bounded up the steps that led to the Quicksand - Ul'dah's branch of the Adventurer's Guild. Also a den of sin and other unsavoury sorts. Not the type he was interested in dealing with. The room was abuzz with many drinking, talking loudly, and others seemingly locked in eternal silence. It always puzzled him. A few steps more brought him to the counter where leves were given. The attendant behind the desk sized him up quizzically, and then let out a light gasp as load of fangs were dropped onto the tabletop, the clatter drawing some attention from nearby patrons ever so briefly. 'From those basilisks that were pushing in from Northern Thanalan.' Rufus spoke confidently. The attendant looked overwhelmed for a moment, scrambling to find the leveplate to confirm the reward. 'Ah! Yes, right here. 2000 gil. Who knows what havoc those monsters could've wrought if not for you?' 'We'll never know, I suppose.' He smiled and reached out to take the offered pouch. He then stepped away from the counter and turned to Krysta, curiously surveying the pouch in his hand. 'Well, 2000 gil is decent. A good start. Ul'dah has cheap accomodation, and plenty of places that you can work and pick up skills. Take this, and make good on it.' Krysta's eyes suddenly shone. They were large, and as the realisation sunk in, increasingly wet with tears. She let out a rough sob, one that belied a greater pain beneath, and reached out to take the bag in both hands, which trembled. 'Y-yer really... gonna help a nobody like me...?' She croaked, taking a breath to steady herself. 'No one is a nobody. We're not all born equal in this world and sometimes... well, it doesn't hurt to give someone a hand. So I'm helping you. Find a start for yourself. Make your parents proud. I know the feeling.' Krysta gingerly nodded, staring in silence at Rufus for a good few moments. 'I wanna help folk, just like ye helped me. An' I will! Just ye wait and see!' 'I look forward to it, Kysta. Take care.' 'And ye... Ser Rufus.' They both chuckled and parted ways then, he to retrieve his chocobo and set out wherever his fancy took him, and her, off to start a new life for herself. Whether he would ever meet Krysta again or not, he wasn't sure. Life has many devious twists and turns waiting for us all. But she seemed to be made of strong stuff. He was just glad that his gamble on the knife-wielding Blade's last resort was right.

#ffxiv #ic #story time #Rufus Wightman #hyur #midlander #DRK #tw: violence

[scribblelark]

The Summoning

I wrote this story for submission to the Death of All Things anthology that Zombies Need Brains is producing, but it wasn’t accepted, so I post it here instead. It’s nearly 5k words of mythology-inspired fantasy told from a Second Person PoV.

The summons has a distinctive drumbeat, like a steady heartbeat beneath the ritual chanting, and you shudder when the chant calls on your name, compelling you to manifest from Doaht, realm of the dead and the gods, to the upper world realm of the living. It's been at least a couple of hundred years by the count of mortals since last you were called and you would ignore them if you could, but they have every word of the chant exactly as it should be and to ignore the summons is impossible.

The rhythms of the chant and drum speed up, imparting a need for urgency to the summons, which you bitterly resent, but since you cannot ignore it, you manifest yourself where the blood has been spilled, where the chant names and binds you, where the drumbeats match your own heartbeat.

You look down from your perch atop a tree and see that there's only a small crowd of forty or so people awaiting you, and you spring lithely down from the tree to land with an earth-shaking thump that has nothing to do with the weight of your physical form. Most of the supplicants cower, then prostrate themselves on the ground, as they should. But one does not: a middle aged (insofar as you can discern ages on these mortals) man who reeks of borrowed power, stands firm in front of the others.

"Who dares summon me, Tethu, Guardian of the Dead?" you demand – you don't shout, your voice isn't even audible – it simply echoes in their minds. You regard the group before you – you have the ability to read and understand all language, whether written, spoken, or thought, and you can read the fear – abject terror in fact – that all but the man at the front, is subject to at your appearance, and you smile. Of course, a hawk's head doesn't really lend itself to smiling so the feelings of fear from the people in front of you increases.

"I summon you, Tethu, Guardian of the Dead," says the ringleader. "We demand – "

"Demand?" you say, in a tone of mild astonishment which nevertheless induces more dread in the group – one or two have involuntarily pissed themselves, you can smell it on them; three or four more have passed out in sheer fright.

The ringleader, Ahriman, swallows audibly. "We request – " he begins, moderating his tone, although his entire body is bristling with suppressed rage, which you quickly realise is his way of dealing with being frightened.

"What do you request?" you ask, your voice reverberating around the clearing, although a hawk has no vocal chords with which to speak.

Two more of the group pass out with quiet moans of despair.

"Power to destroy our enemies," says Ahriman. His mind is filled with images of a tribe that lives not too far away, a tribe which has richer, fatter lands for raising their herds and crops, and you discern that the other tribe are peaceful and wish only to coexist in harmony – the ringleader of this tribe, however, wants to destroy the other tribe in order to take over their lands in order to escape his tribe's hardscrabble life. He's riddled with jealousy, rage, fear, desire, and bloodlust.

If you had eyebrows, you'd raise them, but the hawk manifestation is working so well to terrify this group that you don't bother to change your appearance. You're still scanning the group and you notice, with some surprise, that there's a young woman at the back who, although scared, is less terrified than the others and, more importantly, is kneeling in a properly submissive pose, her palms flat on the ground before her, and her forehead touching a spot between her palms. You switch from the hawk-form to a human-form in a blink of an eye. This one intrigues you. Ahriman does not.

"No," you tell him, and with a flick of your fingers, you stop his heart in his chest. His body collapses to the ground, a look of pure astonishment on his face before it splats into the ordure on the forest floor.

You stalk across the clearing, and the supplicants moan and scuttle out of the way, those who are unconscious being dragged aside by those who are still awake.

You stop in front of the suppliant girl. "You interest me," you tell her, and draw her carefully to her feet. She keeps her head lowered, her gaze on your legs, or possibly something a little higher than your legs. You know how these mortals are led by their base instincts, and when you manifested, you didn't bother with clothing, so your interest in her is now quite obvious.

"Who are you?" you ask her.

"Seshet, Master Tethu."  

"And why are you here, Seshet? Do you seek the power to destroy your enemies?"

"No, Master Tethu." She whispers the words, but you can sense the truth of them. You can see into her mind, too, and know that Ahriman, the man you've just killed, had made this one his personal slave, doing things to her, or making her do things to him, that she found repugnant. You change your young male aspect to that of an older woman, dark-skinned like this one, and fully clothed; she gasps, startled, and her body trembles at the suddenness of the change.

"Show me to your friend," you command, but softly. "The one who is sick."

She doesn't speak, but you sense her fear that you will take her sick friend away to Doaht – you don't offer her false hope, but it's not your intention to take him to the realm of the dead unless you absolutely must, and that you won't know until you see him.

"Yes, Master Tethu." She turns swiftly and leads the way through the trees until the two of you reach a hut at the edge of the forest. Within the hut there is only one room, and on a pallet near the central fire pit, where a poor sort of fire is burning, lies a man about two decades older than the young woman. He is sick, burning with fever from a knife wound that's going bad, and it could easily be a mortal wound, but it doesn't have to be, not now you're here.

"You need to put more fuel on that fire," you tell the girl, Seshet.

She nods, then goes back outside, and you turn your attention back to the man. A bard, you discover when you look into his feverish mind. Corbenic. He'd taken the knife wound in his arm trying to protect Seshet from the late Ahriman, even though he knew he was no warrior like the dead man. You find yourself admiring Corbenic, though he was foolish to pit himself against the warrior. And you like Seshet – she has great strength of mind, great courage, and great compassion. She, not the dead man, would make a very suitable leader for her small tribe.

And you know just how to make sure that happens.

When Seshet returns with her arms full of twigs and small branches she glances fearfully at you, then at Corbenic's face, and you see the love she has for him in her mind – she has never mentioned it to him, believing the older man only sees her like a daughter, not as a potential lover, and you mentally shake your head at this foolishness since, below the fever and pain, you can sense his desire for her in his mind.

Once the fire is blazing, you make Seshet sit crosslegged in front of you at Corbenic's side, and she places her hands over the wound, then you place your hands over hers, your breasts pressing against her back as your arms encircle her body. You sense a spark of interest in her mind, and it intrigues you – you have had few dealings with mortals over the millennia, but you are aware that they tend to pair up male and female. This one, though, would mate with you as happily as with Corbenic.

You put those thoughts aside, and make Seshet repeat a low-voiced chant over and over as you draw the putrefaction from the wound and disperse it into the ether, casting it onto a breeze that takes it far away. You instruct Seshet on how to make a paste of herbs that will help the wound to heal more quickly, and also on how to bind Corbenic's wound more effectively. By the time the two of you have finished, the man's fever is already cooling, and she carefully trickles honey mead into his mouth, drop by slow drop, from a simple clay vessel.

She gives you a grateful smile once the last drop has gone, then shyly asks, "Master Tethu, will you dine with me?"

"I will," you say graciously; you have things to discuss with her.

The two of you eat a simple meal of pottage sprinkled with tiny shreds of meat and spicy seedpods that set your mouth aflame in a very pleasant manner. There are cups of honey mead to drink as well, and when you judge that Seshet is finally relaxed enough to be attentive, you suggest to her that she would make a far better leader of her tribe than the man you killed earlier.

"But I'm a woman," she says, clearly puzzled by the suggestion.

You frown at her. "Being a woman doesn't preclude you being a leader," you tell her.

She shakes her head. "No one would listen to me. I'm too young as well as being a woman. Why would the tribe's elders take me seriously? They are old men, considered wise by the rest of the tribe."

You smile wolfishly. "Why wouldn't they, when you're backed up by me?"

She gulps audibly, swallowing hard, and you sense a spark of hope in amongst the doubts and fears that crowd her mind. "Why would you support me?" she asks. "You are Tethu, Guardian of the Dead, a god. I am no one important. My people are unimportant."

"You're not important yet," you observe, and she shakes her head again. "How would it be if you became All-Mother, not only of your tribe, but of all the tribes around you? You could bring peace and prosperity to this whole region."

"How?" she whispers, half eager, half disbelieving.

"I will teach you what you need to know," you say, and you sense she needs time to think it over. You're not interested in making her your puppet, so forcing her into the role of All-Mother is not an option. You know that other Doaht dwellers enjoy controlling the mortals who summon them to manifest among them, but that's never been your style. As an occupation for a millennia-old immortal that sort of thing palls pretty quickly.

"You should sleep," you tell Seshet. "I will keep watch over Corbenic."

"Thank you," she says softly, and curls up on her pallet on the other side of the central fire pit. Within moments she's fast asleep and you understand this is the first opportunity for proper sleep that she's had since Corbenic was wounded.

As she sleeps you send dreams into her mind – thoughts and ideas about being the All-Mother, and what it would mean not only to her and Corbenic, but to her small tribe which is barely surviving. That bare survival is a part of the reason that Ahriman wanted power from you – but you saw no reason to help him start a war when his tribe's status is a reflection on his poor leadership skills. Guardian of the Dead you may be, but you see no reason to precipitate deaths needlessly.

# # # #

When Seshet awakens in the morning she looks thoroughly rested, yet also guilty, and you realise that her guilt comes from not having watched over Corbenic. That guilt vanishes speedily, however, when he awakes and looks up at her with a loving smile.

"Seshet," he says softly, and she sits down beside him with a thump; you're amused that she's completely forgotten about your presence for the moment, and you watch with interest as the pair talk in low voices, Seshet's hands are gentle and her expression tender as she checks the knife wound on Corbenic's arm, and it's after she's done that that she remembers you're there. She introduces you to Corbenic formally, and he looks startled by the presence of Tethu, Guardian of the Dead, in his hut, but he is properly grateful when Seshet tells him how you helped her deal with his wound.

"How can we repay you, Master Tethu?" he asks.

"By teaching your children, and your tribe's children to worship me," you say.

They both look bewildered by your words – unsurprisingly since the tribe has no children.

"Our children?" Corbenic asks, glancing sideways at Seshet, who immediately casts her eyes down, a blush just visible on her dark skin.

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Your children," you say firmly.

He reaches for Seshet's hand and she curls her fingers around his. "I didn't know," he whispers, and she shakes her head. "I thought you saw me as a father."

"And I thought you saw me as a daughter," she replies.

You clear your throat, and they startle, tearing their eyes from each other's faces, and give you their full attention again, though their hands remain joined.

"You need to broker a deal with the neighbouring tribe," you tell them. "The ones Ahriman wanted to make war on. You need to join the remnants of your tribe with theirs"

"But what can we offer them?" asks Corbenic doubtfully. "We are barely surviving. We have no skills to offer them that they do not themselves possess."

"At the moment, no, you don't. But soon you will." For a moment you enjoy the look of bewilderment on their faces at your enigmatic words, then you relent and explain. "You will share with them knowledge that I will give to you, and in that way, your tribe will enrich theirs."

"Knowledge?" Seshet asks, that spark in her mind again.

You nod. "Knowledge of medicine – herbs and healing lore," you elaborate when you realise that neither of them is familiar with the word 'medicine'. "Also writing."

"Writing?" Corbenic tries out the unfamiliar word and you smile, knowing that as a Bard he, in particular, is going to love the concept of writing.

"Writing," you say. "It's a means of recording the tales you sing and recite so that they can be passed on to others and need not be lost at the death of a Bard. I know many more tales than you, so I will share new ones with you, which you can write down, and share with other Bards from other tribes."

He looks positively stunned by the concept, as you knew he would be. "That – that sounds amazing," he whispers. "But why are you helping us? I thought Tethu, Guardian of the Dead, would care little or nothing for the living." He swallows hard, looking panic-stricken. "I mean no disrespect, Master Tethu. I fear my understanding of you is imperfect."

"Yes it is," you say, but gently, because it's not Corbenic's fault. You've left these mortals alone for a couple of centuries, it's not surprising that their knowledge of you has grown patchy and been corrupted during the passage of time.

"I care for the dead after they pass into the realm of Doaht," you tell them. "I help them on their journey to meet with Yneput, where their souls and hearts and deeds are weighed before the goddess of Justice and Truth. But I do not care to see people die. I am Tethu, Guardian of the Dead, not Tethu God of the Dead. I am not a bringer of Death, I am the caretaker of the dead."

They nod at you, and you smile, pleased that they understand.

# # # #

Over the next few weeks you remain among Seshet's people, teaching them. Being a god, you could, of course, just dump the new knowledge into their heads, but you resist that temptation, no matter how much some of the older ones struggle with the alien concept of writing. You know they will understand these new concepts better if they learn them rather than merely acquiring them, and understanding the concepts will allow them to teach them to others. If Seshet's tribe is to be worthy of joining the Hotephi, the neighbouring tribe, then they have to be able to teach others what they know. You are determined to see Seshet as All-Mother throughout this whole region of Aegypt – she will lead not only her own people, but all the other  tribes, into a golden age of peace and prosperity.

Seshet and Corbenic take to their new roles as leaders of the tribe with only a little opposition – the elders argue that Ahriman, for all his faults, was a mighty warrior, whereas Seshet is a woman and Corbenic a Bard, but you're on hand to ensure the opposition quickly sees the wisdom of allowing Seshet to become the tribe's Chief, despite the lack of precedent: it only takes one appearance of you in your powerful hawk form, and a reminder that the mighty warrior Ahriman had left them in the pitiful state in which the tribe currently finds itself – willing to make war on a peaceful neighbouring tribe in the hopes of stealing their lands, for the elders to agree to install Seshet as Chief.

As you live among them, teaching them, you learn more about Seshet and Corbenic. She's an orphan whose parents died of fever when she was a young child. She lived with one of the elders until she was 16, and deemed old enough to determine her own path. For the last five years she's looked after the tribe's bee hives, making honey – and honey mead – for the Basiri tribe.

As the tribe's Bard, Corbenic has spent most of the last few years travelling the length and breadth of the Black Lands, the fertile river on either side of the river, sharing his songs and poetry, and learning new songs and poems from other Bards he met in his journeying. His skin is much lighter than Seshet's and you learn that his mother comes from lands far to the north of Aegypt. He only returned to the Basiri from his most recent travels a couple of weeks ago, and had immediately seen that Ahriman was treating Seshet badly. He'd appealed to the elders to intervene, but they'd refused, so he'd confronted Ahriman himself, and suffered the consequences for his attempt to help Seshet.

It's perfectly obvious, not only to you, but to the rest of the tribe, how devoted to each other they are.

"Master Tethu?"

"Yes Seshet?" You're lounging near the fire pit one afternoon a few weeks after you first manifested, a goblet of honey mead in your hand, when Seshet comes in with Corbenic at her back.

"Corbenic and I have decided to wed, and we would like you to lead the ceremony."

You raise your eyebrows at them. "Not really my area," you say. "But I will ask Oohsaht, goddess of marriage and fertility to officiate. It's been a while since she attended a mortal wedding ceremony, I'm sure she'd be happy to help you out."

Seshet and Corbenic exchange a glance, and his arm wraps around her shoulders. "We'd be honoured, Master Tethu," he says.

You nod, swallow down the last of your honey mead, then get to your feet. "When do you want to be wed? Today?"

Seshet looks shocked, and Corbenic gives her a squeeze. "Three days?" he suggests.

"Three days it is, then," you say, and with only a brief flash of light to mark your passage, you leave them and return to Doaht.

You arrive in your own comfortable home, but without even a glance around, you head out in search of Oohsaht. You find her in her own home, lying in a huge tub of hot water. She flicks her eyebrows at the sight of you, and you realise that you're still in your older woman form. A blink of an eye later, you're in your young masculine form. Oohsaht looks you up and down in an obviously approving manner, then beckons.

"You can scrub my back, Tethu."

It's less a request than a command, but you don't mind that. You step over to the bathtub and reach for the soap and loofah. You're fairly sure that she has minions or acolytes - devotees, certainly - to do this sort of thing for her, but if pandering to her wishes in this regard is the way to persuade her to accede to the request you bring her, then you do not mind. Besides, it's a very nice back. And a very nice body that it's attached to. This is the first time you've seen Oohsaht completely naked and you find your own body reacting in a predictable manner as you rub soap into the ebony-dark skin beneath your hands.

"I haven't seen you for some time," she says once you've finished her back.

"I've been in the mortal realm," you tell her, and when she looks interested rather than bored, you proceed to tell her of the summoning, and its outcome.

"So what brings you to me?" she asks. "Did you get bored with the mortals?

You chuckle. Oohsaht has never had much interest in mortals, except in a few very specific instances where some exceptionally good looking man or gorgeous woman has caught her eye, and she has coupled with them, before she grew bored - though not without leaving them a reminder of their union: there are a double handful of demi-gods roaming the mortal realm thanks to Oohsaht.

"You enjoy mortal weddings, don’t you, 'Saht?" you ask.

"Of course," she says instantly.

"Come and preside over one in Aegypt for me?"

"Who is it? A mighty King? A beautiful Queen?"

"A Bard and his sweetheart," you say, and she flicks up her eyebrows again, lips pursing.

"Tell me."

You smirk and begin washing the rest of her as you detail the story of Seshet and Corbenic. She listens courteously as your hands work the soapy lather over her limbs and torso.

"Very well," she says as you finish your ministrations. "I'll come and preside over the mortals' wedding – as a special favour to you because you've been so good to me today."

"I'm always good to you, 'Saht," you assert.

She chuckles. "Yes you are, you're a very good boy in that regard."

"Boy," you groan. Of course, compared to her, you are a boy as she's at least a couple of millennia older than you.

Eventually she climbs out of the tub, and you help her to dry off, then wrap her in a magnificent golden robe, then she takes your hand and leads you through to a magnificent dining chamber where you feast and talk for hours. At her invitation, you stay the night with her. She's right that it's been a long time since you've been among your own kind, and you're quite sure that 'Saht has all manner of tricks to teach you - and you've always been a willing pupil.

# # # #

Three days later you and Oohsaht attend the wedding of Seshet and Corbenic, which isn't a grand affair compared to some mortal weddings, but is nevertheless an enjoyable occasion. Seshet looks nearly as magnificent as Oohsaht in an outfit supplied by the goddess for the purpose. Of course, Oohsaht is a good deal taller than Seshet (Oohsaht manifests as a very tall woman built on magnificent lines, and her ebony skin is so dark it shines in the candlelight), but that's a small matter to a goddess, and the cream and gold dress looks stunning on Seshet, whose skin is a few shades lighter than Oohsaht's. Corbenic looks smart in an outfit of cream trews and tunic which you'd provided for him, and the bridal pair are practically glowing with happiness.

Four days after their wedding Seshet and Corbenic travel to the Hotephi territory, in order to broker their deal. You accompany them, wearing your male aspect, but an older man this time because at this stage you don't want to antagonise the Hotephi: for your plan to work, everything has to be done in a peaceful and orderly fashion.

The meeting goes well, despite the Hotephi elders' initial surprise and confusion on learning that Seshet, not Corbenic, is the Chief of the Basiri tribe. Once that is out of the way, however, the negotiations progress in a very satisfactory fashion – the Hotephi are amazed and impressed at Corbenic's demonstration of writing and reading, and equally impressed with Seshet's recipes for a couple of new medicinal salves. The Hotephi are also suitably awed by the revelation of your identity – the idea that a god has been behind this scheme is startling, but they do not voice (or even think about) any objections to the proposed merging of the Hotephi and Basiri tribes, and they even agree that when the current Hotephi Chief, who is an old man, dies, Seshet will become Chief of the conjoined tribes.

As Seshet and Corbenic return to their people to break the good news, you can't help thinking that this a far more desirable outcome of being summoned by the late, unlamented Ahriman than the war he'd wanted. You can leave Seshet and Corbenic to get on with their lives secure in the knowledge that you won't be escorting dozens of dead Hotephi and Basiri through Doaht any time soon.

You do have a few qualms about whether the power will go to their heads, as it's apt to do with even the best of mortals, but you feel reasonably confident that you've chosen the new leaders of the Basiri tribe wisely. Only time will tell whether you made the right choice, and entertaining though this interlude has been, you're ready to return to your own home now.

# # # #

Twenty five years pass before you see Seshet and Corbenic again – you'd occasionally overflown (in the guise of a mighty hawk) the Black Lands, the region in which the Basiri-Hotephi tribe has been flourishing and expanding for a generation – just to see how everything was going, but you hadn't manifested there in a form they would recognise.

You're a little startled to see them both here in Doaht simultaneously – and you don't hesitate to greet them and find out how it is they've died together. You learn that the river had flooded, as it regularly did (which was what made that region so fertile), but this flood had been unexpectedly powerful, and the pair had been attempting to rescue some stranded people when their boat had been swept away, causing them to drown.

"I'm glad that you have thrived and lived happily since I saw you last," you tell them. "Four children, and a dozen grandchildren is a good legacy, quite apart from the expansion of the Basiri-Hotephi's lands. You have done excellent work and I am certain Yneput will judge your souls and hearts and deeds favourably. You may rest here and prepare yourselves for your journey through Doaht, and your meeting with Yneput. I will personally accompany you on that journey since you have fulfilled every hope that I entertained about you."

"Thank you, Master Tethu." You sense their gratitude and relief at your promise, and you lead them to your house intending to do your utmost to help them prepare. Yneput is mighty yet merciful, and you cannot doubt for one moment that she will not judge them favourably for all that they've done in the last quarter century. (Ahriman's heart and soul and deeds were, unsurprisingly, found wanting, and he did not survive his encounter with a demon, the Blood-drinker who comes from the slaughterhouse.) The fact that Seshet and Corbenic died trying to save lives will weigh favourably on Yneput's scales.

Your only regret, as you get Seshet and Corbenic settled for the evening, is that they are here so soon – you would have been happier to have waited quite a few years more before seeing them in Doaht. But done is done, and dead is dead. At least they have the favour of Tethu, Guardian of the Dead.

#Original Fiction #My Writing #Fiction Under 5k Words #Mythology

[ineffablefool]

I got an ask which I have decided to respond to anonymoosely, because I can.

I just read your post about Fat Aziraphale and how it made you feel better - I'm trying to use Aziraphale to convince my wife (also fat) that really, she's wonderfully friend- and wife-shaped and people find her pleasant to look at.

Oof.  This kind of situation is such a hard one to be in, for all parties concerned, because we’re all stewing in nigh-constant fatphobic garbage, and almost no fat person, no matter how good their self-esteem, can ignore that garbage 100% of the time.  So the person feels bad because they don’t look the way someone else decided they should look, and the people who care about them feel bad because, well, they care.  Just yuck all around.

I have Thoughts on this, and I figured I’d put ‘em on the blog.  They are not specific to asker, especially since asker didn’t ask for advice.  Asker can totally ignore me if they like, that’s fine.  But now the Thoughts will Live on the Blog.  Oh -- and I use “fat” as a neutral descriptor throughout all this.  Not “plus-sized” or “larger” or the o word which I hate with the blue-hot screaming fire of an oxyacetylene torch of rage.  Fat.  Simple term to contrast with thin in the same way tall contrasts with short.  I like simple.

(this gets exceptionally long without being the least bit organized)

Disclaimer, I am not an expert in anything except being me.  But that means I’m an expert in being a fat human, and one who ID’d as female for over 30 years and still gets read as female 99.44% of the time (women get hit harder with this crap), and one who has done a lot of thinking about this whole mess.  So maybe that will be useful to someone.

And I don’t know if this is ever a “convince” sort of thing.  I think it’s more a “come to realize, slowly, over time, with a lot of work and hopefully support”.  (Asks aren’t the best place to craft the very finest of language, so I know there’s a lot of wiggle room in the meaning of “convince” in the ask that spurred this post, but again, I’m taking this more general.  )  It’s very hard to show a fat person your inner understanding of them as a whole and wonderful and important human being. This is because we get so many little reinforcements, day in and day out, that being fat is inherently bad, and that we are inherently bad if we are fat.  It creates a narrative which hits us from almost every conceivable angle, and it can feel very, very convincing.  (Read this 2010 post by Ragen Chastain if you want to be sad.  I’m not saying her results are typical, because her work involves dealing with fatphobia, but I am saying that if any of us sat down to do this math, we are not likely to be happy about whatever result we do get.)

So it’s a bunch of little things needed to turn things around, and it’s over a period of potentially years, and it’s the fat person in question having both the willingness and the energy to put in a bunch of boring yucky work.

Positive representation is a huge part of it, though.  It builds a new narrative.  It gives examples of fat people accomplishing things, creating things, living and having fun and just actually being people.  Of fat people being loveable, and loved, although that’s not the most important part.  I focus on it in the Good Omens hyperfixation part of my life, because my hyperfixation is completely around a romantic Aziraphale/Crowley relationship, but being a valid romantic partner is not nearly as important as all that other stuff (hi my aro and ace people you are not forgotten).  And I’ve seen a bunch of posts by people talking about how Sheen’s Aziraphale, and the fandom response to the character, have helped with their own self-esteem -- because it’s the new narrative.  It’s not “this character is (barely, if you squint, but we’ll let it ride for a sec) fat, and therefore bad or the butt of a joke or less than the thinner characters”.  It’s “this character is fat and important and loved”.  Type of love is up for all of us to decide per Mr. Gaiman, but you don’t get to argue the love.  Aziraphale’s appearance has nothing to do with his value as a human-like entity.  He’s literally tied with Crowley for most important character, given that the show has been reframed from the book to both begin and end with our ineffable duo (plus the emphasis given by the Hard Times cold open).

Sharing that new narrative with the important fat person in one’s life can be one very small part of helping them unlearn the old narrative.  If it helps, I kinda not-officially-but-it-works-out-that-way curate fatter-versions-of-Aziraphale artwork in my fat positivity tag, along with all the other fat-positive stuff that runs through my blog.  (I don’t think there’s any fics in that tag besides mine, just commentary, but I can’t remember right now.)

Over on my other Tumblr account, I follow a bunch of fat-positive blogs, although I haven’t refreshed the list in a while (I just... don’t need it as much as I used to, which is fascinating, now that I think about it), and some of them have gone dormant.  But I can recommend, in no particular order, fuckyeahfatpositive, ok2befat, and fatqueerlove (assuming the person IDs as/is comfortable with the label “queer”) for the more affirmation side of things (though there’s some activism mixed in); and bigfatscience, the-exercist, and fatphobiabusters for the more activism side of things (debunking bad science and fatphobic myths; speaking out against fatphobia in medicine, legislation, reporting, and wherever else it shoves its ugly head out from its troll-cave). The Fat Nutritionist hasn’t updated in a year, but she still has lots of good stuff up. thisisthinprivilege is... hard to read, sometimes, and I think it’s better for after you’re energized and angry about the garbage you’ve been taught.

(If anyone gets through this ridiculously long post and knows of other good resources for that last paragraph, by the way, I’d love to hear about ‘em.)

But it takes the fat person actually seeking out the new narrative, and shoving fat-positive content and mindsets into their eyeballs and brainpan, for there to be a real change, I think.  And that’s the boring yucky work part.  A lot of people find that they can’t really pull their thoughts out of the old track and into the new one without getting some help from a therapist -- and therapists are great and there’s nothing wrong with going to therapy, I see a therapist every two weeks myself -- but therapy takes time and money and energy and a therapist you can actually work with.  Not everyone has all four of those things.

It’s also important to not draw any lines when trying to communicate to one’s important fat person that they are, in fact, important and worth whatever kind of love it is that one has for them.  No “you’re not actually that fat” (how will they feel if they gain more weight later?).  No “at least you’re healthy” (how will they feel if they become unhealthy?).  No “but you carry it well” or other variations on “at least you’re not one of the ugly ones” (how will they feel if their appearance changes later?).

If there’s a line, then your important fat person always has to be careful not to cross it.  Don’t imply to them that there is actually an appearance-related condition to your love for them, and they just luckily haven’t failed you yet.  If there actually is such a condition, maybe sit down and have a few deep thoughts with yourself.

Plus, speaking personally, I am “that fat”, and I’m not 100% healthy, and I carry it weird and am really-weird looking.  And I don’t appreciate being thrown under the bus so someone can tell someone else “at least you’re not one of those, you know, the fat people who aren’t valid and important human beings”.  So nobody ever do that.  Please.

Final words to my unhealthy, or really really fat, or weird-shaped or just plain ugly-by-current-common-standards fat people out there -- i got u fam.  You’re all valuable and important and I love you.  And you’re all doing, or going to do, amazing things, because doing amazing things has precisely jack to do with the amount or positioning of fat upon your very important and inherently worthy human self.

That’s all!  If you made it this far, then you get this link to a photo of a cute bearded dragon in a hat, if you’d like to click it.  I follow william-snekspeare on my other account and have commissioned him for artwork twice now and he is an absolute dear.

And I hope asker’s wife has a good body image day tomorrow.

#ineffablefool reply #ineffablefool does some Deep Thoughts #ineffablefool is on about fat bodies being lovely again #although less 'lovely' and more 'important' here because lbr physical attractiveness is RIDICULOUSLY overemphasized #ugly people are still important #everybody is important #unless they've done something with actual actions to override their importance with horribleness #the appearance of your physical form is not an action so there ya go