#to the person in the replies: YES!! you have full permission to draw him!! thank you for asking in the first place that’s so sweet of you!!

[rowrowronnie]

anyone remember that pyro is a robot headcanon? yeah um erm i also remembered that and also sorta maybe mightve gotten carried away a little bit.. tee hee..

#fanart #art #doodle #tf2 #tf2 fanart #team fortress 2 #tf2 scout #comic #tf2 engineer #tf2 spy #tf2 soldier #its so funny because it didnt even cross my mind until i was drawing (GET READY FOR CRINGE)… #..scout with bunny ears.. ANYWAYS AHEM. i was like. hey. what if. what if those ears. were like. apart of a helmet. #and then i spiraled #hashtag real #hopefully this comic makes sense i stayed up to do this not realizing the time i am so eepy #this is probably also a blue headcanon i headcanon blu engie is medic levels of unhinged <3 #to the person in the replies: YES!! you have full permission to draw him!! thank you for asking in the first place that’s so sweet of you!! #but anyways sorry for not replying! this is my side account that i’ve turned into a main account #and my main account still has the Mark of cringe past (old fanart) so i’m trying to keep them apart lol #scoutbot

[whumpy-writings]

Fed and Watered

Masterlist

The story of 023, aka Henri, and Aldon continues. @thecyrulik asked if Henri's life was going to get better, so here is some comfort and fluff for poor Henri. This post is also dedicated to @whumpsy-daisy , 023's number 1 fan!

CW: Vampires, slavery, dehumanization, anxiety, starvation, disordered eating, mention of past physical and mental abuse, nudity (non-explicit/non-sexual), scars, (and fluff, I promise)

The last thing he remembered was Master telling him to breathe. Now the ground beneath him was soft.. No. Not the ground. A bed. Henri’s eyes flew open in a panic. Humans weren’t allowed on beds. He rolled to the side, falling off the bed and onto the wooden floor. Oof. He rubbed his sore nose, wincing. Henri looked around the room. It was large with dark wooden furniture giving it a sense of finery. The walls were lined with red tapestries which depicted various scenes from folklore.

Henri’s eyes stopped when they reached a small table. On the table was a bowl, and he could see the steam rising from it. Terror swept through him. Master had said it would be a couple days but apparently had changed his mind. Henri crawled over so he could clearly be seen from the door and knelt, heart pounding. Breathe, he told himself. In... out...in...out. His mind started to wander. This was his life, all he was was a meal for his betters. But sometimes… sometimes he still wished for more. He tried to push those thoughts away but they always came back, sneaking into the corners of his mind that weren’t completely dark. Thoughts of a life without fear. A life without pain. He jumped as the door opened, heart in his throat. Master stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders almost filling the entire frame. Master’s eyes fell on Henri, and Henri had to suppress the urge to flinch. A frown.

“You don’t need to do that here, Henri, you can stand up.” Henri rushed to get to his feet, a wave of dizziness hitting him. Next thing he knew, Master was next to him, grabbing his arm so he wouldn’t fall to the floor.

“Careful there.” Master glanced over to the table with the soup, a crease on his brow. “Why haven’t you eaten, Henri? You must be starving.” Henri looked from the soup to Master and back again, confused. He wasn’t allowed to eat yet. Henri tipped his head to the side, exposing his neck for Master.

“No, I don’t want that,” Master said quickly.

Henri let out a sob. He was so hungry, but he couldn’t eat yet. “Please Master, please I’m so hungry and I can’t eat until you have.”

…

Aldon froze, shocked. He had never heard of such a thing. “Was that your old Master’s rule?”

“Yes sir.” Aldon considered this, horror building in his stomach.

“How often did your Master feed?” he asked.

“Usually about three times a week, sir,” Henri replied quietly.

Aldon gaped. No wonder the human was so weak. Humans needed to eat at least once every day, much more often than vampires. Aldon took a deep breath, thinking of what to say.

“Here there is a different rule. I need you to be healthy, and eating three times a week is not going to accomplish that. You’re to eat everyday, whether or not it’s a feeding day. Anytime you’re hungry, let me know and I’ll get you some food.”

Henri looked at him in shock, big blue eyes huge. Then he started to cry. “Thank you for your kindness, Master.”

Aldon’s heart broke a little at being thanked for granting the bare minimum for survival. “Of course, Henri. Now why don’t you eat your soup? I’m going to go draw a bath for you.”

…

The soup was heavenly. It was warm, with potatoes and carrots and onions. There was a slice of bread too, which filled his mouth with yeasty deliciousness. Henri savored each bite. When he was done he leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. He was full. He hadn’t been full in… he didn’t even know how long.

...

Aldon felt the bath water. Not too hot, not too cold. He turned off the tap, drying his hands on the nearby towel. Time to get Henri. Aldon walked down the hall, gently rapping on the door before poking his head in. “The bath is all ready. Did you eat?”

Henri nodded vigorously, a ghost of a smile on his pale face. “Yes Master, Thank you Master.” He got out of the chair, hesitating for an instance. “Master…” he said, face going white, “I’m sorry for using the furniture without permission. Please forgive me.”

Aldon took a calming breath. Henri’s old master was certifiably, undeniably, an awful person. “No need to apologize Henri, you are allowed to use any of the furniture that you want.”

The relief was apparent on Henri’s face.“Thank you, Master.”

Aldon turned around hurriedly so Henri would not see the rage on his face. The ways some people treated their humans were just despicable.

“Come on Henri, let’s get you cleaned up.” Henri followed Aldon down the hall to the bathroom. It was small, with a white clawfoot tub and floors and walls covered in white ceramic tiles. This was one of the few houses in this part of the city that had the luxury of running water. Aldon turned back to Henri, only to find the man already undressed, pants on the floor. Aldon turned away immediately, cheeks burning.

“Is something the matter, Master?” Henri asked, voice filled with uncertainty and a tinge of fear

.

“No, I just was going to give you privacy to change. You’re allowed privacy here,” he quickly added.

“Oh,” a pause. “Thank you, Master,” Henri said quietly.

“You can climb in the tub now.” Aldon averted his eyes as Henri climbed in, then turned to the human sitting in the tub, bubbles up to his chest. “Would you like help bathing, or will you be able to do it on your own?” he asked carefully.

Henri considered this for a moment. “I would like a bit of help with my back and my hair, if you would be willing to. This hair is… a mess.” he said, gesturing to the greasy blond mop on his head.

“I can definitely help you with that.” Aldon knelt down next to the tub and picked up a cloth. He could hear Henri’s elevated breathing and could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. “You’re okay Henri, how about we take a couple breaths?” Aldon led Henri through a couple rounds of deep breathing, until the human had calmed down.

“I’m sorry Master,” Henri said, staring down at the water, regret thick in his voice.

“Hey,” Aldon said, reaching out and taking Henri’s chin in his hand, gently making him look up at him. Henri’s blue eyes sparkled, threatening to spill tears. “I know this has been a big change for you. Anybody would be nervous in your place. I’m really proud of how well you’re doing.”

Henri blushed. “Thank you, Master.” he said.

“Of course, Henri,” Aldon said, picking up his cloth and dipping it in the water. He started to gently rub his back. Aldon pressed his lips together. Every single rib and vertebra was visible, creating deep ridges in the skin. Henri was covered in dirt and the water quickly starting to take on a brownish hue. Aldon paused when he glanced at Henri’s neck. There was a scar there, two actually. They were parallel to each other, running from the base of his skull all the way to the collarbone. Almost as if… someone had dragged their fangs down his neck. Aldon pursed his lips, fingers lingering on the scar. Henri froze, beneath his touch. “Henri, who did this to you?”

Henri didn’t respond for a second, and Aldon started to worry that maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it. Then finally Henri said, “Mas… Old Master” A pause. “I… I tried to run away.” Aldon cocked an eyebrow at that. Henri continued in a rush. “I know I shouldn’t have, that I should have been grateful for his protection. I didn’t make it far. This,” his fingers went to the scars, lightly tracing them “was my punishment. He wanted to make sure I knew who I belonged to. I’ll never try to run away from you, Master. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Aldon couldn’t see Henri’s face, but he could hear the sadness in his voice. Anger bubbled to the surface. How dare someone do that to another creature? Aldon pushed his feelings down. He would deal with it later.

“Thank you for telling me that, Henri.” There was silence for a while, Aldon moving on to Henri’s hair. It was matted with dirt and grease, tangled into knots. Aldon worked his fingers into the knots, slowly loosening them. After a while of working, he noticed that Henri was much more relaxed, his breathing steady. He smiled to himself. “Well, I think I’m done. Can you rinse your hair for me?”

Henri nodded, ducking quickly under the water. When he came up he was smiling. “Thank you, Master. That was wonderful.”

Aldon gave a quick nod, not trusting his voice. He cleared his throat. “You can finish up, and then get changed. There are some clothes for you on the table.” Henri nodded. Aldon left the room, quietly shutting the door behind them. Then he leaned back against it, head tilted back, and smiled.

Tag list: @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whump-cravings @thecyrulik @neverthelass @michelleswhumpyreblogs @whumpsy-daisy

#aldon the vampire #henri the human #vampire caretaker #recovering whumpee #vampire whump #whumpblr #pet whump #comfort #fluff #vampires tw #slavery tw #dehumanization tw #scars tw #disordered eating tw #starvation tw #anxiety tw #physical abuse tw #mental abuse tw #nudity tw

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter Ten

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it’s all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared, for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au ??? (at this point idek) angst, fluff, slice of life etc ?? word count :: 4k author note :: haha.... wowww it's been long since i last updated. honestly my physical and mental health have just been horrible... that's about it, i lost a lot of motivation but if you're still reading i am very thankful and i will try to deliver the story well. i tried my best but writing whilst sick is very tiresome :-) tags :: @patience-is-here​ , @chwlogy​ , @a--nonymousse​ , @imkumichan​ 

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Keeping yourself cooped up within Levi's estate and never daring to step a foot outside should have been what you had done. Blackmailing him to keep you confined within the walls of your bedroom would be much better compared to the problem you have to resolve now. Perhaps if you had done so you wouldn't have collided face first into this muddle.

Jean fiddles with the ends of his button up, he doesn't take the chance to glance up at any of his superiors. He's either much too embarrassed or has nothing noteworthy to start off with.

Erwin chooses to call the shots seeing as neither you or the Viscount by your side wish to begin.

"You both understand why we're here. Correct me if I'm wrong?" The Commander looks between you, Jean and your unfortunate excuse of a husband. Suddenly it looks as if the gears and cogs in Jean's brain move without warning.

Offering a demure nod you expect for him to follow in your footsteps and do the same only he stands there looking between you and Levi.

"Wait...The two of you are? A couple?" Stunned isn't the word, Jean's completely flabbergasted.

"If you figured that out this late, I do not understand why Erwin sees you remotely fit for my team." Levi's beyond insulted at the fact he's only just understood the situation.

Jean, now more intimidated than ever before straightens his back and coughs clumsily, "Sorry." He murmurs chestnut eyes making contact with the hardwood floors.

The Commander's laced hands sit atop his desk, elegant fingers moving similar to honey on a spoon. He sighs not out of fatigue but pride. Whatever plan he's come up with has to be decent at the very least, his body language is telling you that much.

"We have a number of possibilities we can choose from. We owe that pleasure to Mr Kirstein here." Erwin offers him an almost cynical smile, you can't help but gulp thinking about how this is essentially your fault. With all the constant training sessions and team building tasks it makes sense for Jean to have completely forgot about your unspoken rule. Solely blaming him is incorrect.

Raising your arm above your head to intervene you make it known that you're aware of Levi shooting you a look of warning by returning it. It's best he knows you don't care for anyone's opinion let alone his.

"Permission to speak Commander?"

Your request is agreed to immediately with the wave of  Erwin's hand.

"It's my fault for not reminding Jean. I'll take the blame, I hadn't even told him the full story concerning me and Levi."

Levi doesn't enjoy your defense in the slightest. "I don't expect my wife to fling herself at other men and allow for them to snoop around gathering the details of our personal lives."

Scoffing you shield yourself with your arms over your chest.

"Oh dear husband. If you want to get personal do tell me where my family is?" It's an inside joke only Levi will be able to understand.

"If you call those people family your standards are disgustingly low."

"Maybe that explains why I settled for you."

Again, other's opinions are not at the forefront of your priority list. Regardless it's quite enjoyable pushing Levi further into a corner with that sentence. You see the internal struggle play out within him. Jaw clenched, hands balled together. He doesn't have an appropriate response

Jean bursts out unable to hold it in any longer, chest trembling with every quake of laughter that ripples through him you have to shove him with your elbow. For a Viscount his etiquette sure is nonexistent.

"My word, the two of you sound like..."

Levi stares at him most probably expecting something along the lines of "An old married couple."

But, no. It's nothing anyone in the room expects. That includes you.

"It's as if you're unhappy with each other..."

Not a noise is made after that. Jean isn't mistaken, your heart is miserable. You've never had many relationships to begin with, whether it be familial, romantic or platonic and for someone such as your husband to treat you the way he does - it feels futile having to navigate around the complexities. Even if he isn't really your husband it's disappointing to reflect on your marriage so suddenly.

Feeling your face droop a little you bite your bottom lip with your teeth. Hearing the truth from someone you barely expect to hear it from has an effect on you.

You're so caught up analyzing everything it takes you a minute to even register Levi grumbling and lunging forward pilfering the collar of Jean's shirt.

"Every day you prove to be more and more pathetic than I expect." Levi turns to look at you after that. His stare bores into you but he doesn't come off threatening, you assume his last remark is directed solely at Jean.

When he turns back only glaring at Jean now with even more tenacity than before. He's ready to snap but Erwin has clearly had enough of the unwanted altercation in his office.

"Enough. The both of you. This is most bothersome." At the Commander's orders Levi is silenced although it takes all of his resolve to do so.

Finally bothering you take a good look at Jean. He's calm in an incredibly out of character way.

Is this not the man who trembled in his boots the first time he and Levi came into contact? It's almost as if he seems pleased with himself for drawing out such a reaction from his Captain.

Erwin shuffles through stacks of paperwork on his desk. The man needs an assistant at this point. You doubt you could find anything in that haphazard pile. Edges of crumpled paper poke out uncomfortably and Erwin becomes increasingly annoyed when he can't locate what it is he's looking for.

Just as you're about to ask if he requires any assistance it seems he's found what he's been looking for, that's if his eyes are any indication of the relief he feels.

"This." He holds up the paper, all eyes in the room are trained on it. "Under normal circumstances would not have to become an option."

"But these aren't normal circumstances?" Jean's thoughtless question is irksome when the answer is so obviously staring him down in the face.

Nonetheless Erwin nods incapable of losing his cool over something so minor.

"Sign to confirm to my proposition."

The document he places onto the desk isn't what you imagine, you can practically feel the dread climb up your throat once you're done scanning it. Jean's full name placed right next to yours in bold lettering has your stomach lurching. You don't have to read the rest to understand the new circumstances you've landed into.

To make matters worse Erwin places two rings down right in front of the both of you.

A pot of boiling hot water is what you've been thrown in.

Are you supposed to be some sort of replacement for potatoes? What's Jean in this scenario? Carrots?

"It is troublesome to have the two of you put on an act to be involved with one another but I see it as our safest option." Erwin notices your parted lips and slacked jaw. "You need not worry this isn't a marriage contract, you're simply acting."

There's no path out of this pot, you and Jean will simply have to deal with the prospect of being boiled alive.

Ah, you forgot to mention who would act as the hot water but you're sure the suspect is obvious.

Even right now Levi's fury radiates off of him, it's unclear if he was given the details of the Commander's plan beforehand but if his furrowed brow and pursed lips are indicators of the truth he must have had no idea.

Your suspicions are confirmed to be correct once Levi reaches forward plucking the paper away, it just so happens he's snatched it away the very moment Jean leans in to get a closer look at it.

"I was never informed of this."

Erwin gives him a guarded smile. "Do you have any jurisdiction over what I think is best?" Is his freezing reply.

"Yes. When it concerns my wife and another man - Correction. I meant boy."

Jean's taken aback by the subtle jab and shamefacedly shoves his hands into his pockets.

You watch the scene go down with a perplexed look the entire time. Levi's frustration seems to be legitimate yet he has no logical reason for it to ever be present in the first place. Unless he has a plan which outperforms the one you've just been given he's doing this all for nothing.

"I assure you your wife is in safe hands so long as you stop interfering."

Levi's about to bark back until he catches your confusion. He's become aware of your tilted head and telling expression and only then does he silence himself permanently not before sighing deeply, muttering an expletive under his breath.

 "I’ll sign it.” That seems to be Jean’s indirect way of asking what your choice will be.

“I... will too.” Is your hesitant reply.

Levi only becomes avoidant after that. Half way through Erwin explaining how you and Jean have to look believable Levi just ups and leaves without a word. Perhaps you've hurt his pride but for what he's done to you it's a small price to pay and so you do nothing to make amends. He has no reason to feel uncomfortable, you aren't really his wife, you're essentially strangers. Does he even know your favourite colour? Your favourite food? Your favourite pastime?  

You doubt he does.

Jean and you are rather successful with your act. It feels pleasant having him brush your hair out of your face occasionally or lovingly place a hand on your forehead to check if you've come down with a fever. He laces his fingers with yours when others are around and when they aren't he lets the act go. It's satisfying having a cooperative partner.

Naturally Jean is still a tease, even now he makes the odd suggestive comment or two in passing but you can't say you hate it. In fact it excites you to think of a response that borders the edge of teasing and simple fun between friends.

The increasing openness between the two of you is enough for the cadets to deduce that he's most probably the noble man you wed in secrecy.

It's only been a few days since yours and Jean's newfound behaviour, thankfully you haven't been flooded with questions just yet. The higher ups sit nearby during breakfast, lunch and dinner keeping watch over the cadets. It leaves you able to eat and drink without having to handle the constant inquiring of your comrades.

However, you aren't as lucky today. A meeting's taking place and after yours and Jean's convincing act Erwin deems it safe enough to leave you unattended for a short while.

Of course it doesn't go according to plan because when you're involved when does anything ever go according to plan?

The cadets are flocked around your table at dinner as soon as they notice they've been left to their own devices. The opportunity to sit down without everyone invading your space is barely provided to you. Krista is sat to your right leaning into you rather animatedly, Annie has made herself at home sat across you which in itself is completely out of character and slightly unnerving, Annie never and you repeat never concerns herself with you.

"Why did you and Jean hide it?" Armin hovers over your shoulder as per usual. He can't be blamed for naturally being inquisitive and it does give you the opportunity to lay out the foundations of your plan. Now's your time to muster up one of your rehearsed responses.

"It would interfere with work." You respond immediately wanting to appear natural. Pondering on an answer for too long would raise suspicions.

Armin makes a sound of approval and shuffles into the seat next to Krista, that is until Ymir can be overheard telling him to move if he knows what's best for him.

"I have a question." Says a voice across the table, you don't have to look at the blonde parallel to you to know it's her.

For once Annie’s initiated a conversation with you, she’s not particularly great at keeping her intentions discreet. Maybe she doesn’t care if you can tell what she’s up to? But if that’s the case her plan isn’t all that foolproof, there's no way you're to let any details slip away.

Sharply inhaling waiting for what it is she has to say you find that her sentence never comes. Instead she shakes her head and murmurs a "Never mind.". You don't even have the time to ask her to stick around, she's already rose from her seat taking her unfinished plate of food with her, you let her go assuming she feels unwell.

"So how'd you two meet? Jean already told me earlier but I'd like to hear your side." Reiner's taken Annie's empty seat and his gaze is unwavering. The trap they've set up is a clever one. Surveying the hall for Bertholdt you know he has to be observing too. The two never operate alone.

You suddenly hate Reiner. For whatever reason he and his trio are endlessly obsessed with you, they've caught onto something that's for sure but you don't know what it is and now they've completely ensnared you with a backhanded trick. There's no way out of this, you have no idea what it is Jean said to Reiner, the chances of you providing the exact same answer are slim to none.

"My memory is really fuzzy, I don't think Jean gave off much of a first impression so I've forgot." Your horrible excuse doesn't fly by, everyone simultaneously narrows their eyes in disbelief. What you've said isn't convincing at all.

Husband and Wife yet you've forgot how the two of you met?

Fidgeting with the ring adorning your finger the cool metal isn't doing a great job at alleviating the pressure of the situation.

"Jean said the two of you hit it off almost instantly. Who's being dishonest?"

Reiner's either lying to catch you out or he's saying the God honest truth and right now all you can do is hope and pray for a miracle to sweep you off your feet. Mikasa and Jean still aren't within view. At this point you're hoping for Levi to save you, it doesn't matter how so long as you escape unscathed.

"Hey, I think we're just making her anxious with all the questions." Armin is quick to side with you, deep down you know he only does so due to the respect he holds for his Commander. You thank the Heaven's for Erwin's admirable smile and commendable leadership, it seems to be the only reason Armin believes you and Jean.

"Or she's lying." Reiner's resting his head in one of his palms, he's still boring holes right into your frame.

Your eye twitches, this is all unnecessary and uncalled for, whatever it is Reiner wants out of you it better be worthwhile.

He still eggs you on. "You walked out of the Captain's quarters. I saw you."

Standing up and leaning forward you plant your feet to the ground as firmly as you can you.

"And if she did what's it to you?"

Fighting the urge to sigh in relief you've never been happier to hear Jean's voice but something's off. His breathing sounds heavy - like he fought his way to get inside. Turning only then do you notice Mikasa standing by him. She looks equally as exhausted. There's been some sort of a struggle.

"You think it was funny getting Annie to guard the door?" He heaves and runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

"And you think hiding secrets from the rest of us is any better?" Reiner's adamant there's information that the both of you are hiding, he's not wrong but that doesn't change that he's challenging you unprovoked without a reasonable motive.

"We're hiding nothing." Unlike you Jean is sure of his words, he's confident speaking up and he seems to be able to pull off the role of a protective husband perfectly.

“I came out of the Captain’s quarters because he had access to hot water. He said I could use his shower. That’s all it was.”

Reiner quirks an eyebrow upwards and is pleased with your answer. God you’ve said something incriminating haven’t you? It's not incriminating per se but it's without doubt malleable and easy to twist.

“Jean, you were okay with your wife doing that at the dead of night?” Reiner's still leading the interrogation.

“I was the one who suggested it.”

“I don’t believe you’re a couple." If it were Reiner who said that you wouldn't care much, after all it's pretty clear he never believed it but to your displeasure it isn't him who's spoken. Ymir's lopsided grin is all knowing and you're beginning to lose your footing in this argument any second now if any more people start to side against you.

If Ymir disagrees that almost certainly means Krista has her qualms about you too, you've observed beforehand that Ymir tends to speak for Krista on occasion. This happens to be one of those times.

Krista timidly raises her hand and Ymir gives her an approving nod encouraging her to speak.

"I don't like the conflict going on but it is suspicious..."

"Why have I only ever seen you two hold hands?" She asks.

Ymir slings her arm over Krista's shoulder affectionately. "Yeah, I tell Krista I'll marry her every day of the week."

Mikasa mumbles something unintelligible, Ymir gives her a look of warning but Mikasa doesn't seem to care. Instead she repeats what she has to say loud and clear.

"Stick to only speaking when Krista is involved."

Krista holds Ymir by her arm so she doesn't get up, she knows how she gets when she's been provoked. Even if Krista has her suspicions it isn't worth Ymir gaining a permanent penalty point on her record.

Thankfully Armin cuts in. "There's no solid evidence to show they're lying and even if they are the Commander's most probably told them to. Don't you think there's a reason? Leave it be if that's the case. I trust him with our lives."

"We have a right to know." Annie's returned and insists to keep this back and forth going.

Just as you're about to fire back Jean takes a hold of your waist, you look down and seeing his large hands planted securely around your frame has your stomach bubbling with anticipation.

"What are you— "

And then he kisses you, he doesn't ask and instinctively your arms move to whack his chest but you stop yourself in time. You realize it's for the sake of your plan not falling through and so you gently place your hands on his shoulders attempting to ground yourself. It becomes increasingly difficult when you sink deeper into the kiss than you'd like to admit. Blood rushes to the tips of your ears and the thumping of your heartbeat makes it difficult to articulate any thoughts, all you really know is that you like this, whatever this is.

Jean's hands don't feel like they were made to rest against your back, they feel slightly out of place as if he's a key and you're an unmatched lock. In spite of that the circles he comfortingly rubs into the sides of your waist are appreciated, you almost forget you're in a room full of people until you're flooded by cold air.

You've been dragged off of Jean and something in the pit of your stomach has you wishing Levi isn't responsible for the interruption.

To your relief it's just Hange, they're glowing in mischief, the grin on their face shows they aren't mad. They might even find this entertaining.

"Well I be damned... maybe they weren't bluffing?" Connie's been persuaded by the looks of it and Krista's busy whispering to Ymir, you hear the faint sound of the word "Romantic" escape her lips, she's equally as convinced as Connie.

Hange smacks your back light-heartedly and looks to the door for a second. "We leave ya' both for a while and you decide to give everyone a show?"

Erwin's stood by the doorway with a humorous smile playing at his lips, Levi however is anything but amused, he glares at you with murderous eyes, he looks like he's ready to end your life then and there but you know he won't dare do so and for a second you feel braver than you ever have before. Without much thought you grab onto Jean's forearm.

"Me and my husband will get going now!" You allow your gaze to loiter when you get to Reiner. He grunts an apology and you're oh so tempted to ask him to repeat himself but you'd rather not instigate anything.

With that said and done you and Jean leave after giving the performance of your lives.

Slowly but gradually the sky outside becomes dark.

The will to sleep left your body long ago. It's by pure luck that you even manage to catch three hours of rest. Training is the only available distraction and dying out in battle isn't favourable by any means, your boredom may as well be used resourcefully - Strapping yourself up in your ODM gear is the best option.

A quarter way through your warm up you can sense a presence behind you, the leaves rustle and the wind feels noticeably quieter. You'd bother to turn around to see who's intruded but Levi's snuck close enough for you to be able to smell his perfume from where you're stood.

"Feel disrespected? Embarrassed even?" You jab at him knowing it'll rile him up, you don't face him not wanting to give him the pleasure of seeing your face.

"Watch your mouth." he warns sharply.

Rolling your eyes you go about your business, it stays that way for a few minutes. All the while Levi stares at you darting from tree to tree, his scrutinizing gaze scalding you repeatedly.

"Y/N!" He yells at the top of his lungs.

For some unknown reason you automatically stop and lower yourself to the ground

"I have something to tell you." Comes his tense follow up. A finger of his latches onto one of the leather straps on your back.

You can't believe he's still denying the undeniable.

"You can wait till tomorrow. I'll be going to bed."

Levi doesn't seem to care for your cold response and proceeds with no warning.

"I'm jealous." His voice shakes. The grip he has on your harness doesn't let up. With your back turned to him you're still somehow able to detect the very obvious crack of pain.

Levi, jealous?

Gritting your teeth together you feel deceived.

How much longer will you have to tolerate Levi's push and pull?

“May I ask, what he is to you, my love?”

Your breathing grows heavy, tensing up you're completely shocked by the term of endearment that falls from his lips. You haven't heard it for so long, Levi sounds eerily different.

You hate to admit it but a flicker of foolish hope lights in your chest.

"Levi why would you ask— "

"Why don't you call me Lev anymore?" He whispers sounding strangled. You can't take it anymore and hesitantly look his way.

His eyes are filled with tears "I'm sorry my love, I don't know what went wrong." you falter for a second not knowing what to think.

At that moment the flicker becomes a flame.

The man who stands right before you is meant to be dead, never to be seen again. By all accounts this should be impossible, but Lev has always been a fighter.

Bitterness stings your heart, the wounds you've collected are still fresh but despite your body's protests you don't flinch when he gently takes a hold of your wrist, bringing it closer to his mouth.

"Lev...? Is that really you...?" You ask desperately.

The warm kiss he presses against your pulse point provides you with the answer you've been longing for.

#levi #levi ackerman #leviiattacks #aot #snk #attack on titan levi #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #levi x y/n #levi x reader #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #duke levi #levi smut #levi fluff #levi angst #levi fanfiction #levi ackerman imagines #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman headcanons #aot imagines #levi ackerman fanfic

[holycow99]

石田お寿司 12/9/21 stream translation Part 1

This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.

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I: Hello. Can you hear me? Good night. (t/n: He’s replying to a comment.) You can hear me? Hello. Welcome.

I: My tone sounds great today, ***-kun? (t/n: OP commented that his tone sounds great.) Of course I’ll be excited in the beginning of the stream. But only in the beginning.

C: Your voice somehow sounds young.

I: It’s because I just slept.

*Typing on twitter

I: I finally did it. This is a simultaneous worldwide stream. Do you understand it? Ah, I’m so tired. I’m tired of sleeping.

I: I’ll be drinking my coffee. Itadakimasu.

I: It was a long vacation, wasn’t it? When was the last time you guys heard from me? On September…Well, it doesn’t matter.

I: I don’t have anything particular to do for this stream. I just felt like it.

C: I’ve been listening to your streams repeatedly during holiday.

I: Thank you.

C: We last heard from you at the end of August.

I: I see. Thanks.

C: Thank you for your hard work on the manuscript!

I: I did the rough sketches first. I was brainstorming.

*Someone commented on Animal Rap.

I: Animal rap? I actually wanna try this. Actually, I’ve done recording for one video, but won’t it be scary if suddenly in the middle of the stream, animal rap video is uploaded. Without saying anything, suddenly there’s a new animal rap video being uploaded. Won’t it be scary stream?

(t/n: I’m not sure if the translations for this part is correct. He said something more but I haven’t reached this level of Japanese understanding skill. Forgive me.)

C: Animal rap itself is scary, so it’s okay.

I: What a hilarious thing to say. Are you actually afraid of animal then?

C: Have you got vaccinated?

I: Nope, since I’ve been locked up in my house. I want to though. I want to get injected a lot. Around 10 times.

C: Sensei, did you read Berserk chapter 364?

I: Is it the final chapter?

Y****: Let’s inject the head.

I: Nice one, Y****. Well, since Y**** is an introvert at school, he must be a non-popular kid. Because he doesn’t have any friends, he can’t wait to meet me. Is it like that? Hahahaha.

I: I’m not even aware of the things happening around me. I don’t even know when the exhibition in Osaka will open. I want you guys to tell me about me.

C: I’m aiming to be a mangaka, but having someone that can be a mentor for me to learn from is better, as expected?

I: I don’t think so. It depends. In some degree, it’s better to do it by yourself. If you really wanna write a manga and you wanna create an environment that allows you to do so, if there’s a chance to be an assistant, I think it’s better for you to grab it. Because you’re still not familiar with how these things work. I think it’s better to be an assistant first. You don’t have to be one for a long time though.

C: I want to diet. Where should I start?

I: Record your weight. Measure your weight and record it in calendar. Doing that makes you feel conscious about your weight. You’ll probably can lose weight that way.

C: Are you still eating oatmeal?

I: I’ve been eating Onigiri only. 

C: I wanna change job, but I’m anxious to because of the economic situation. Please encourage me!

I: It’s better for you to change job, since you said you wanted to. I think everyone is anxious. There’s no one who isn’t.

C: I’m happy that the JJ illustration that you posted on twitter will be made into goods!

I: Yeah, without my permission. Hahaha. When the illustration was made into goods without my permission, I was like “Eh? This is…”. I’ll stop talking about this. Hahaha. I won’t talk about this.

*Someone commented about Kingdom exhibition.

I: I wanna go to the Kingdom exhibition.

I: What I said just now (about JJ illustration) was a lie. Please forget about it. Are there companies like that? Of course not. I was just joking. If that’s the case, then anybody can freely turn my illustrations into goods. Though there’s a person who sent me the PugMax t-shirt.

C: I wanted to be a mangaka when I was small. As I got older, I only immersed myself in the real world. I’ll be a civil servant starting from next year. I don’t have the courage to challenge myself, so I want to give my unconditional support to those who are.

I: I don’t know how old you are, but you can still draw even if you become a civil servant. Just draw one if you really want to.

C: You have to collect royalty.

I: I do get royalty. I get 5 yen in total.

C: How old will you be this year?

I: 250,000 years old.

C: How are you?

I: Like usual. But I made progress on the manuscript, so I’m relieved. I kinda forgot how to draw it.

C: I thought you were in your 30s.

I: Nope, I’m far older.

C: You haven’t started game streaming?

I: I’m haven’t decided yet for today.

*People were discussing about his age.

I: Doesn’t matter how old I am.

C: Do you prefer women with long hair or short hair?

I: Short hair.

*People commented about Heavy Rain.

I: Oh, you want to see me playing Heavy Rain? I’m okay with that. I’m okay with playing games or anything. I’ll be a yes-man for today. Everyone’s yes-man & toy, Ishida Osushi.

*Someone commented about Animal Rap again.

I: I wanted to say something about this. I’ve done the animal rap video. I only upload videos I’ve received from the animal themselves, not me. But I was afraid to upload it, so I refrained from doing so. I wanna try uploading the video while streaming. That’s what I wanted to say. Well, it doesn’t really matter. I just upload it after I finish streaming. I don’t understand the need to upload the video and streaming at the same time.

(t/n: He said something more, but again, info on Animal rap is hard for me to decipher. I’m really sorry.)

C: What did you watch recently?

I: Movies.

C: There were people who got scared by the fact that Ishida Sui raps.

I: No, you’re wrong. Ishida Sui doesn’t rap. Ishida Sui doesn’t do streaming as well.

C: Do mangakas have the chance to meet women?

I: It depends on the person. The ones who’re locked up in the house won’t. But…That’s right. You might if the workplace has mixed genders. You also have the chance to meet people during party or some sort. I’ll always be at the corner every time I go to parties. It’d be nice if the party was fun and the staffs could enjoy themselves. I also said that I went to parties to take a break, but I hated it.

C: You’re not going to parties?

I: Nope, I won’t. The company doesn’t hold them as well because of the current situation.  Even if I did, I wouldn’t know what to do. I don’t really eat the food, and introducing myself to people is tiresome.

I: S****** is here.

S******: Ishida Osushi can become a pro mangaka.

I: I’m aiming for it.

C: Fukuoka suits you, sensei.

I: Somehow, I feel grateful. It’s like you’re telling me that it’s okay for me to live in Kyushu.

(t/n: Kyushu is an island where Fukuoka is located.)

C: Sir Osushi, what do you think of Sir Sui?

I: I have a murderous intent towards him.

C: Does the thumbnail hold any meaning?

I: It does. Look forward to it.

C: Being a streamer suits you (Osushi) better than being a mangaka.

I: Hahaha.

C: The drawings of Neji (JJ character) by Ms. Towada were wonderful!

I: That’s right. Neji drawn by Ms. Towada. I want you guys to tell me something like this. I want you guys to tell me about my current situation. Things like, “would you retweet this?”, “This is JJ’s…”, “The CD’s also…”. Let me change my twitter account. First is Ms. Towada, right? Let’s retweet Ms. Towada’s tweets. I thought of drawing something like this. She drew quite a lot. She drew him more than me. I feel bad having her to draw it. I feel grateful rather than feeling bad. She drew a lot of them. Yonaga’s illustration looks nice. I see… There’s like an incomplete rough drawing. I thought of copying and drawing that illustration. I’ll just retweet this. Tell me what should I retweet next.

C: Is Ms.Towada doing well as well?

I: I talked to her a few days ago.

I: Do read Fool Night.

C: Do you like Aespa? (t/n: Aespa is a kpop girl group. Ishida had drawn one of the members.)

I: The girl caught my attention. I thought she was beautiful.

*Someone commented about his illustration of Ano-chan. (t/n: Ano-chan is a Japanese singer. Ishida had come to her radio programme once, and he did the album cover for her latest album.)

I: Ano-chan! What happened to that? Have you seen the album cover? It’s already out?

*Someone commented about Fool Night.

I: The world in Fool Night is super amazing. It was quite a while ago, the person in charge of the Superior magazine watched one of my streams and asked me if I could write some comments. I was like “Don’t tell me that!” (referring to watching his stream). I hate being seen. But then, I was like “whatever.” I usually turned it down, but I just wrote for this one.

*Someone commented about Wooma (t/n: an illustrator.)

I: Who’s Wooma? Let me check it.

C: Sensei, I’m a good child. So, is it okay for me to sleep?

I: Yes, of course.

C: Sensei, do you smoke?

I: No.

I: Ah, Wooma is the illustrator for the song ‘Usseewa’. Sorry for the lack of knowledge.

C: Do you watch Christopher Nolan’s works?

I: I’m not that familiar with movies, but I may or may not watch it. I’ve been getting into movies lately. I searched for the movies Takahashi Kunimitsu told me about. You tend to watch anything when you’re obsessed with movies, right? I was also obsessed with history for a while after I learned how fun it was from Takahashi Kunimitsu. I’ve been reading 2-3 books on history a day lately.

C: Until what time are you gonna stream?

I: Today is infinite as well. We have another 12 minutes left. Haha. I’ll keep on streaming today. I won’t end the stream today. It may end tomorrow. (t/n: He definitely kept his words.)

C: Sensei, do you like itzy? (t/n: Itzy is another kpop girl group, and Ishida had also drawn one of the members.)

I: Yes.

I: Tomorrow is a holiday? There are people who are not working tomorrow.

C: What are you drinking?

I: Coffee.

C: You only need another 800 people to reach 30,000 subscribers.

I: Yeah. It’s gonna reach 30,000. I have to make an appreciation stream or video for 30,000 subscribers. A lot of youtubers are doing this, so I have to do it too. I wanna do it. Feels like a youtuber. Isn’t it fun? I wonder what should I do for it? What would be fun? Let’s go with this concern first. I get lost if I don’t go one-by-one. It’s one of my bad habits.

*They’re planning on what Ishida should do when he reaches 30,000 subscribers.

C: Show your nails.

I: I don’t do manicure.

C: Heavy Rain.

I: Wanna play Heavy Rain as well.

C: Please let us hear your sneeze.

I: There is such person sometimes. Creepy.

C: Why don’t you play Ghosts n Goblins for now?

I: After the stream, I felt like playing the game. They had something like magical clock, though I forgot the name. The one that double the speed of the game. I really wanted to play that, honestly. Though, it wasn’t suitable for streaming. I thought of playing it in my own time. I really like that kind of games.

C: Will you sing when you reach 30,000?

I: During the previous silent stream, Queen Bee’s song was playing. Those who watched may know. I thought of appearing for a moment and sing and then end the stream. I wouldn’t do it, but I just thought about it. At that time, I wanted to try having just an illustration stream.

C: I’m waiting for an autograph session after the Corona ends.

I: The pandemic probably won’t end for at least 2-3 years.

*Someone wanted him to sing Gaston’s song.

I: Gaston. Singing, huh? Hahaha, why am I having second thoughts? I thought I’m okay with anything.

C: how about a karaoke battle?

I: Karaoke battle, huh?

C: Do you have any piercings?

I: I’m not wearing one right now, but I do have it. (t/n: I didn’t expect him to have a piercing. He’s really different than what I imagined a mangaka to be. XD)

C: I’m hoping for JJ’s song covers!

I: JJ? JJ’s songs are difficult. It was super hard during the time I did the covers. Seriously, when I heard it back…The cover for the opening theme was scary. I thought my singing ability had increased since I recorded this one the last. A few months ago, I listened to it after a long time, it was…what should I call it? A sutra, no, a curse. Me and JJ’s opening theme. I forgot the title of the song. Jack and something. There were parts in the songs where the female and male characters had to harmonise. To convey that part, I had to cover the song multiple times. I multiplied into 7 people, since I had to record as Kisa as well. When I was recording Kisa’s part, the other version of me at the back, probably Kai, was harmonising with me. I was told to deepen my voice by Mr.Kasama. So embarrassing. The voice was really low. I was drawn by Mr. Kasama’s voice. His voice was really good when he said ‘Broccoli’ for the cm.

*Ishida imitating Mr. Kasama.

I: It’s cooler than this.

*Imitating him once again.

I: I was like “So cool!”

C: Invite the animals that appeared in Animal rap as guests.

I: That’s a good idea. But what would the guests be doing? It’s absolutely hard to do that. It’s hard to invite the animals because of corona.

C: The title is “Jack & Jeanne of Quartz”.

I: Right. Thank you.

C: Won’t you invite Hanae?

I: I won’t. That’s impossible. (t/n: I want to see him playing horror games with Hanae Natsuki.)

Part 2

#ishida sui #tokyo ghoul #jack jeanne #choujin x #chojin x #ishida sushi channel

[writingdayandnight]

Line Without a Hook - Rafael Barba Imagine

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader (Fem. Pronouns) 

Word Count: 2650

A/N: Inspiration struck, perhaps a little OOC. Will probably go back later and edit. Just a little treat for everyone who misses Barba like I do. 

10:56 PM.

There was not a doubt in Rafael’s mind that he would not be home until after midnight. This case had been excruciating--brutal, really. Everyone had been pushed to their breaking point. Blood, sweat, and tears were poured into this case.

And here Rafael was with a pen cap fastened between his teeth, struggling to write an opening argument. It all seemed trivial. That words had the power to make or break a month’s worth of hard work. And that all he could think about was going home to his partner. 

He wouldn’t allow himself the privilege of a break until he finished his opening and prepped the summations, which was always his least favorite part. Tying everything together with a neat bow seemed to minimize the effort put into seeking justice. But it was his strong suit. There wasn’t a jury he couldn’t convince if given enough leeway during summations. 

His mind wandered yet again, back to the person that was waiting for him. He knew she would still be waiting for him when he got home, undoubtedly doing work of her own. She found solace in the quiet of the night. She would sit at the dining table with papers scattered across the surface, highlighters uncapped, lukewarm tea cooling unforgotten. 

Then there were her expressions. A furrowed brow while drafting a proposal. A lip bite accompanied by pensive tapping on the table. Her head slowly moving to the beat of the music that was playing from the speaker in the corner of the room. An exasperated sigh escaping as she typed another after-hours email. All of these things were the tiny details that Rafael loved noticing, learning, anticipating.

Finally, Rafael caved and placed a long-awaited phone call.

“Raf,” she answered, voice as tender as kiss goodbye.

“Cariño,” he replied, feeling a million times better just knowing she was on the opposite end of the line.

“When will you be home?” He could hear her trying to hide a yawn behind the scenes.

“Not any time soon.”

“Rafael, please take care of yourself,” she pleaded, yet it was to no avail. She knew this.

“I have to finish this prep, Cariño.” He could hear her eyes roll from across the line, “I bet you’re still doing work, too.”

“That’s none of your business,” she retorted, with a guilty shift in energy. 

“Take care of yourself,” he repeated, “I’ll be home soon. Don’t wait up.” 

“I love you.”

His heart grew full, “I love you more.”

Rafael ended the call, reclining in his leather chair. He had been overcome by love, both for his partner and for the way his life had been going lately. Despite the monstrosities he witnessed at work, everything had been going well. Even then, he enjoyed working with his coworkers; they acted as a support system, making the job a little more bearable. 

Then there was his love life. For once, everything was going right. He felt loved, supported, and capable of doing the same for his partner. It had been too long since he had that privilege. He knew too well the outcomes of a loveless life and he was trying desperately to escape them. Deep down, he understood that he didn’t deserve that. 

But there were times where he thought he didn’t deserve the love he had stumbled into. Never in a million years would he have thought that he would have fallen in love with the girl from the bar. 

The rain had finally let up outside, encouraging a few stragglers to clear the bar. Rafael remained, nursing a scotch on the rocks, muttering to himself about the news on the television overhead. It was a bunch of nonsense about the news anchor he and the SVU squad had just charged. He couldn’t listen much longer. 

A gust of wind hit as the door to Forlini’s opened; it sent shivers down Rafael’s back. Inquisitively, Rafael turned to see the person who just waltzed into the bar. Much to his surprise, it was a beautiful woman. He smirked and returned to his drink, secretly hoping that she would find her way to the bar.

She did just that, taking a seat two stools down from Rafael. He continued to watch the television, discreetly listening to her conversation with the bartender. Small talk. Nothing more, nothing less. Aside from her order--a vodka cranberry. 

“Will you get a load of this idiot?” She chirped, scoffing at the story of the news anchor. Her head was tilted in Rafael’s direction. 

He took a moment to answer, pausing to make sure she was directing her remarks towards him. 

“He’s surely a handful,” Rafael replied. 

Just then, his face appeared on the television screen. They had played his interview on the courthouse steps. He had been ambushed by the press, and even though he delivered better than most, it was not his best work. He silently thanked the Lord that the sound was off.

“Is that you?” She asked, spinning in her seat to face Rafael.

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s a shame, you look better in person,” she tisked, taking another sip of her drink.

Rafael couldn’t respond out of awe. No, that wasn’t the right word. He couldn’t respond because he was flustered. That was a first. 

“Sorry, it’s the vodka talking,” she retracted, making a face that suggested she was embarrassed. 

“No, I’m flattered. It’s not everyday the pretty girl at the bar tells me how attractive I look while sulking alone.”

“This is your version of sulking? Sitting at a bar surrounded by a bunch of people?”

“Perhaps,” he smirked, “Rafael,” he offered his hand.

“Y/N.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“I was named after a comic book character, please don’t give my parents that kind of credit,” she laughed. It was contagious, infecting Rafael with an affliction that could not be easily cured. Not without an exchange of numbers and a couple of dates.

The memories of their first meeting flooded Rafael’s mind. It further distracted him from the task at hand. But how could he not think of the most impactful night of his life? Screw graduating from law school or getting promoted; nothing could top falling in love with Y/N. 

Nothing could top her love. From the little notes she dropped in Rafael’s briefcase to the silent support she offered when Rafael was not strong enough to ask for it. That’s when his mind wandered even farther, thinking back to the night he decided he was in love with Y/N. 

Rafael sat on the couch in a near-catatonic state. He couldn’t muster enough energy to move. His mind kept circling back to the horrors he had witnessed over the past 24 hours. In his ten years, never once had a case hit him this hard. It just cemented the callousness of man, something he had been trying to deny for so long. There was no such thing as a good person.

There was a knock at the door, a sound that should have startled him. Instead he was too lost in thought to react. He simply got up from the couch and headed to the door, only to be greeted by Y/N on the other side. 

“Rafael,” she mused, before noticing the hurt behind his eyes, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She invited herself in, dropping her overnight bag by the door. Concern washed over her.

Rafael tried to speak but no words came out. He couldn’t find the right thing to say. His choices were to expose Y/N to the horrors of his job or simply keep it bottled up. His choice was the latter; he couldn’t bear the thought of unloading this grief on her. 

“Raf, please talk to me,” she quietly pleaded. 

He did not respond. Instead, he made his way to the couch, taking a seat in the same spot he had been sulking in for the past three hours. 

Y/N followed without command. She rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping her hands gently around his arm. She placed a kiss on his cheek. It made Rafael’s heart jump, yet he still remained silent. 

But that didn’t deter Y/N. She remained glued to his side, occasionally laying a gentle kiss on him or drawing circles on his bicep. She didn’t push; she knew better than that. Still, just her presence brought Rafael to his knees. 

After an hour or so, Rafael could feel her heartbeat slow. He could see her eyes fluttering shut from the corners of his. 

“I love you,” he whispered, hoping that she wouldn’t hear. Rafael felt guilty saying those words for the first time in such a terrible state. 

“I love you more,” she replied, drifting into a slumber in his arms. 

Rafael knew this could never be true. 

The hands on the clock seemed to turn at an unprecedented pace, yet Rafael had gotten little done. It all seemed pointless. There had to be more to life than this. Hours spent in some poorly-lit office drinking dirt flavored coffee, waiting for his mind to stop running a marathon so he could focus. Watching people suffer everyday for some little bit of justice. Doubting the existence of good in the world with every passing moment. 

But the thing he couldn’t stand was being away from the love of his life. For such a pointless endeavor. It was pointless, but it wasn’t what he wanted. Not anymore. Not with the prospect of love sitting right in front of him. In that moment, he decided to be the most spontaneous he had ever been. 

He whipped open the bottom left drawer of his desk, pulled out a copy of his resignation letter, signed it, and placed it in the mailbox of his boss. He grabbed his jacket, briefcase, and cellphone before practically running to the lobby of Hogan Place. By a stroke of sheer luck, a taxi had been idling outside. Rafael got into the taxi without hesitation--or permission--and called out the address to the apartment he had shared with Y/N. Getting to their front door was his only objective. 

As he settled into the taxi, he reached inside of his briefcase and felt a small item lodged at the bottom. Rafael quizzically pulled it out, determining that it was cube-shaped. As it was illuminated by the passing streetlights, he recognized it instantly. And that’s where he decided to make the best decision of his life. 

“Mami, are you going to be okay if I’m gone for two weeks on vacation?” Rafael asked, changing a lightbulb in his mother’s apartment. 

It was a Saturday which meant it was his day to do chores around his mother’s apartment, with much reluctance on behalf of Lucia, while Y/N went through her laminated chore checklist back at their apartment. Rafael had come straight from his office, totally forgetting his to-dos. Until Y/N reminded him--a pretty common occurrence. 

“I promise, Mijo,” she said, taking his hand and guiding him down the step stool, “I’m just happy you’re taking time off.”

“Me too,” he sighed, a wave of bliss flooding his mind as he thought of going to Greece with Y/N. He’s dreamt of her sunburnt cheeks and wine-stained lips since the moment he bought the tickets. 

“It seems like an awfully romantic vacation. Have you thought about asking yet?” Lucia hinted, pointing to her ring finger. 

Rafael didn’t want to say ‘yes.’ He didn’t want to let her know that he had been planning it since their six-month anniversary. He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with the woman he loved. 

“I’ve considered it,” he teased, “but Greece is too cliche. She wouldn’t appreciate it.”

“You underestimate her, Rafi. She loves you.” 

“And I love her. More than anything.” 

Lucia scoffed, furrowing her brow in disgust.

“Besides you, Mami,” he sang, pulling her in for a hug,

While in Rafael’s arms, Lucia slyly removed a small box from her pocket and slipped it into Rafael’s briefcase. It was his grandmother’s ring, the one she always talked about leaving for him. The one she made sure to mention everyday she was sick. Lucia would never forget something that important. 

Rafael grabbed his belongings with haste, basically throwing $50 at the cab driver, telling him to keep the tip. He slammed the door behind him, jogging to the apartment elevators. He was too lost in thought to greet the doorman or the security guard at the front desk. He was focused on one thing and one thing only.

The elevator couldn’t come fast enough--Rafael tapped his foot anxiously, cursing the damned thing. As soon as it opened, he pushed the 8th floor button at least ten times. He felt a rush of nausea, excitement, fear run over him. The elevator dinged and Rafael ran, rummaging through his pockets for his keys. 

He opened the door as fast as he could, revealing Y/N calmly making a cup of tea in the kitchen. Lamplight illuminated the living room. Her laptop was opened to a document, purple and yellow sticky notes scattered on the table. 2000s Pop Hits playing in the background. He had captured her in her natural element; he was witnessing the essence of Y/N.

“Baby, it’s midnight,” he spoke, calmer than he had been all day. 

“I know, but I was in the zone. I thought you wouldn’t be home tonight,” she answered, walking over to place a kiss on his lips, before strolling back to the kitchen to stop the whistling kettle. 

Rafael’s heart was beating out of his chest. His hands were shaking, mind racing. This was it. This felt right.

“Y/N?” 

“What’s up, babe?” She gently blew on her tea to cool it down. 

“I quit my job today.” 

Y/N almost did a spit, “I’m sorry, what?” She exclaimed.

“I couldn’t do it anymore. It broke me, Y/N.” He sighed, walking to her side, “There are better things in life than case briefs and court.”

Y/N was shocked but supportive, “Well, I’m glad you’re finally free. Why don’t you get ready for bed and sleep for the first time in a decade?” She laughed, placing her hand on his shoulder. 

“There’s one more thing,” Rafael said, reaching into his pocket and for the emerald box that housed his grandmother’s ring, 

Rafael expected the words to escape him; he hadn’t prepared anything in the taxi. These weren’t summations, he needed guidance.

But that didn’t stop him. 

“Y/N, you made me realize that I don’t want to live my life circling the drain and going through the motions. You have brought color to my black and white life. The joy you bring me everyday is immeasurable. Every second I spend away from you makes me feel like the world is ending. I can’t live without you, Y/N. That’s why I’m asking you-” Rafael began to bend his knee before Y/N cut him off.

“Yes! You don’t even have to ask. Yes, yes, yes!” She exclaimed, a tear already sliding down her cheek.

Rafael pulled out his grandmother’s golden ring from the box and slipped it on Y/N’s finger with extra care, as if she was made of glass. Tears had formed in his eyes as well, seeing the ring that reminded him so much of the other most important lady in his life. The most romantic person he had ever met. 

“I love you, Y/N. I wish I could have given you a better proposal, but I couldn’t wait,” he chuckled, once again admiring how well the ring hugged her fingers. 

“If you waited any longer, I was going to ask you,” she laughed, kissing him again and again. “Let’s go to bed,” she whispered, placing a kiss on Rafael’s neck.

#rafael barba imagine #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #barba #loml #imagine #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu imagine #law and order special victims unit imagine

[dreabbles]

twinkletoes

giyushino modern au where giyuu is a ballerino, and shinobu finds him interesting

shinobu is very much attracted to this ballerino named tomioka giyuu—she just doesn’t know to what extent

shinobu thinks her attraction is entirely science and anatomy-based: she likes the way giyuu’s muscles are shaped, she likes how they flow so smoothly with the music (”like the peaceful flow of water!” mitsuri once compared), she likes the way his veins protrude from his arm—and list goes on.

she does admit, however, that she finds his face aesthetically pleasing as well. she claims that it’s hard to ignore, really. not everyone has such deep blue eyes that draw her in.

because she’s friends with mitsuri, a costume designer for the ballet company giyuu is in, shinobu gets mitsuri’s extra free tickets to every show. of course, out of gratitude for her friend, shinobu attends each one.

being the best friend that she is, mitsuri tries to indulge shinobu with more than just the front-seat of the auditorium and attempts to give shinobu backstage access to meet the ballerino, but shinobu often declines, lest she come off as creepy and stalker-ish. shinobu claims she’s fine with watching from the audience.

shinobu does, however, sometimes linger a bit longer after the curtain call when the actors are out to meet some audience members, but stays away and decides against introducing herself (she’s seen him decline all conversations, save from the woman who looks to be a family member, and this orange-haired friend with a scar on his face).

mitsuri does her best (she also can’t believe her friend is that dense)

aside from tickets, and the possibility of a backstage visit, mitsuri deliberately dresses shinobu in eye-catching outfits during each show shinobu attends. it serves its purpose for the most part, just not for the person it’s intended for.

mitsuri has offered to directly introduce the two. the conversation happened like this:

“hang out at the lobby for a few minutes after the show. i’m sure i can find time to introduce you.”

“don’t bother; i’m not that desperate. i’m fine with admiring his muscles from afar. though it would be nice to have a closer examination. do you think he’d let me examine him?”

“maybe? you’ll only know if you ask.”

“do you think he’d be willing to donate some blood at our clinic? i want to see how easy those veins are to poke.”

“...you’re absolutely sure you don’t want me to introduce you?”

“yes. i’ve watched him a few times after his shows. he gets flocked by so many women and absolutely hates it. his expression is a lot harder and less happy compared to when he’s mingling with his friends.”

“you’re honestly already at the point where you notice the changes in his expression. are you sure you aren’t crushing on him?

“of course i’m sure.”

“okay then.”

but, of course, mitsuri has other ways of getting them to meet—if not at his workplace, then maybe at hers.

mitsuri takes a leap and invites the company to a blood donation drive, all of whom agree. (the invitation is mostly for giyuu, but he doesn’t have to know that...not that she expects him to turn up. he never shows up for what the young ones call “company bonding affairs”.)

surprisingly, giyuu shows up. he brings along his relative (mitsuri confirms her to be the sister) and his orange-haired friend.

of course, it has to be shinobu to draw his blood (this, mitsuri claims, is completely coincidental)

shinobu actually expected for giyuu to be quiet, but not this quiet. he responds only when he’s spoken to and speak just enough words—not too little, and never too much. it irks her slightly that he’s so disinterested in the whole donation process, but she decides to keep talking to him regardless.

just as she also expected, the needle enters his veins easily and the blood flows as smooth as his dancing. she tells him she’d be back when the bag is full and leaves to attend to other patients.

she doesn’t realize that his eyes have locked onto her, following her but never letting his gaze stray lower than her hips (he already did once earlier during the brief orientation and is very aware of how those jeans fit her legs and her bottom).

giyuu is slightly upset that it isn’t her who attends to him when the bag is full. only slightly. 

so he chooses to linger. no, he didn’t choose to do so. he just so happened to linger, even telling his sister and friend to go on home without him. (they give him a secret smile each, as though they’d expected him to do something like this.)

mitsuri notices all of this happening, of course

by the end of the shift, shinobu is quite sweaty from walking around to attend to patients and from bringing supplies to and from the cargo vehicles. luckily, mitsuri always has an extra change of clothes in her car for emergencies like this.

the dress misturi lends is slightly too short and slightly too low for shinobu’s liking that shinobu is torn between either pulling the hem down or pulling the neckline up. either action help in nothing to help hide the skin she isn’t used to showing.

just when shinobu decides she’d rather just wear her sweat-soaked polo shirt and jeans, someone extends a jacket towards her. “wrap this around your waist,” says the low voice. shinobu blinks. 

apparently giyuu can speak more than just three words at a time. she’s pleasantly surprised.

then he speaks again, “do you want to get something to eat with me?”

everyone else would later tell them that this was their first date, though they both claim it isn’t

they end up eating dinner somewhere somewhat fancy because it’s the closest to where they’re standing, and shinobu has no more energy to walk too far. (giyuu did offer to carry her, though she declined his invitation.)

though it’s mostly shinobu who does the talking, giyuu does give more reactions to her than she’s ever seen in the whole year she’s watched him.

she catches him off-guard when she compliments his dimples. “they’re really cute,” she says, poking into one of them, and he blushes at her actions.

he catches her off-guard, too, when he tells her, “thank you for always coming to my shows.” that he knew she was in the audience is the last thing she expects.

shinobu nearly drops her utensils when he starts leading the conversation.

everybody say, “thank you, mitsuri”

“you’ve seen me?” shinobu asks, to which giyuu nonchalantly replies, “you’re hard to miss. not everyone’s as pretty as you.”

her heart flutters ever so slightly and shinobu admits that she might have actually developed a tiny, tiny crush on this man. 

shinobu learns that his orange-haired friend’s name is sabito, when giyuu tells her that, “sabito mentioned i should talk to you but i never got the chance. you were always gone when everyone else cleared away. i wasn’t sure where else to look.”

to add to that: “if i knew you and kanroji were good friends, i’d probably have accepted more of her invitations earlier. the other dancers said you’d often be invited, too. i could’ve gotten to know you earlier.”

and to top it all off, he fixes her sleeve that has started to fall off her shoulder. shinobu feels her skin burn under his touch.

when shinobu goes to sleep that evening, it is no longer just giyuu’s muscles on her mind, but also the smile he sent her when they parted

the “date” goes on with casual flirting from both his side and hers. he brushes the bangs from her eyes as she eats, while she wipes the corner of his mouth when he does.

it’s too early for the night to end, so they opt for ice cream. they share a waffle cup with a single spoon.

shinobu has heard enough good stuff about giyuu. topped with her own observations, she concludes that he’s a trustworthy person, so she allows him to drive her home. (mitsuri stowed away much earlier and left shinobu with a midnight commute as the only other option to get home.)

before she alights from the car, giyuu clears his throat and, like a gentleman, asks something shinobu would normally not agree with upon her first meeting with a stranger: “can i kiss you goodnight?”

giyuu meant for it to be a peck on the cheek, but when she leans in with her lips presented for him, he has no other choice but to take them.

they start dating, of course, to fill in the blanks. after all, with how long they’ve been admiring each other from afar, they feel like they’ve already know each other for a while.

three months later, they become official, and shinobu is given explicit permission to examine the muscles she once admired only from the stage.

#giyushino #giyuu x shinobu #tomioka giyuu #giyuu tomioka #kochou shinobu #shinobu kochou

[januaryisnotanartist]

Consent Card

Liu Sang has a question to ask Wu Xie, an important request to make before it might ever actually matter.

Ships: KanSang (background/established), Wu Xie/Liu Sang (future/theoretical)

Genre: light whump, tragic backstory (Worship False Idols backstory), pre-sex pollen?, consent is the sexiest of all things

Warnings: Discussions of non-consensual sex, mentions of past non-consensual sex, discussions of Sex Pollen induced Dub-Con sex-or-die, coarse language.

Word Count: 1,327

-

Wu Xie was alone in a nice, sunny room of the Wushanju, he'd been spending the morning translating some old texts that had found their way to his shop. He was just thinking about taking a break when a light knock sounded at the door of the room.

Looking up, Wu Xie smiled. Liu Sang gave him a little wave in response and waited until Wu Xie gestured for him to enter before he actually stepped into the room.

“Liu Sang,” Wu Xie put his pen down and pushed his work away a little, giving the strangely nervous looking Liu Sang his full attention.

“Wu Xie,” Liu Sang greeted him, hands fidgeting with the zipper on his jacket. “Is now a bad time?”

“No, I was just about to take a break anyway, is everything okay?”

Liu Sang shrugged, and his mouth opened and closed slightly several times like he was choosing and discarding things to say. He shifted his weight repeatedly, and Wu Xie held up a hand in a 'wait a second' gesture. Wu Xie left his chair for a few seconds to drag a spare stool over for Liu Sang to sit on.

When they were both sitting, Wu Xie asked, “is it that hard to say?”

“Would you have sex with me?” Horror filled Liu Sang's face before Wu Xie could even register what had been said, and the younger man held up his hands even as he drew back into himself with a loud “No!” His face was scrunched like he was preparing to be hit, or to cry.

“I...” Wu Xie wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he waited for Liu Sang to explain himself.

Liu Sang slowly calmed down from his state of horror, though he was looking anywhere but Wu Xie.

After a long few moments, Liu Sang pushed his glasses more firmly back up his nose, his face flushed with embarrassed red. He mumbled “I should have brought Kan Jian for this conversation,” and Wu Xie couldn't help himself.

“Is this about a threesome?”

The abject horror and disgust on Liu Sang's face cleared that question up very quickly.

Liu Sang tugged at his jacket, fishing frantically through the pockets until he pulled out a card wallet. He opened it and flipped through the cards with shaking fingers, finally drawing out a thin white card and shoving it at Wu Xie, his face somehow even redder than before.

Wu Xie felt a headache starting from how hard his eyebrows were furrowed, because it looked like Liu Sang was one 'boo' away from crying, and Liu Sang wasn’t the type to cry easily.

He looked down at the card he'd been handed.

In the instance of being psychologically impaired by substances, if my life can only be saved by the act of Sexual Intercourse, I, Liu Sang, give prior and previously agreed upon consent for the act to ONLY the following people:

1) Kan Jian

Wu Xie's eyebrows unfurrowed and made for his hairline. “So...”

“I don't know if Pangzi was joking about the sex pollen the other night, but Kan Jian and I were talking,” Liu Sang started speaking quickly, like he was scared he'd lose the words if he didn't get them out in time. “There's a lot of weird shit that goes on in, and comes out of, tombs, and since meeting you I've seen some things I would have said couldn't have existed, so we thought, if it is real, what would happen if one of us were affected by it.”

Wu Xie did his best to keep up as Liu Sang spoke, the younger man's hands fiddling with the card wallet with almost manic energy.

“So you two decided that just in case, you'd get mutually informed consent for emergency life saving sex?”

Liu Sang nodded, “yes, because it's important. It's one thing to say 'these are the people I'd let fuck me rather than die,' but what if you aren't comfortable having sex with me? Because the whole 'the victim will die otherwise' removes your ability to consent properly, any consent given under those circumstances would be... suspect at best, it's under duress.”

Wu Xie hummed lightly as he considered it, looking over Liu Sang's anxious form.

“Are you sure you'd be okay with me having life saving sex with you? You didn't want to ask Xiaoge first?” Wu Xie regretted his attempt at teasing as Liu Sang flinched again, looking for a few too many seconds like he wanted to vomit.

“I...” Liu Sang was back to looking like he was about to cry, and Wu Xie felt like an asshole.

“I'm sorry, that was inappropriate, I just... I know you like Xiaoge a lot, and I know he'd give consent for you, so I'm wondering why it looks like I'm the second person you've asked.”

“Because you are.” Liu Sang's breath was shaky, but after a long pause he continued.

“I don't know how many of the rumours you've heard about me, but most of them... have some truth to them. When I was very young, Ouxiang saved me from some bad people. It... it wasn't the purpose of him being there, just a side effect, but he's... the idea of him in my head is very... the opposite of sex.”

Wu Xie felt like he wanted to be sick as the implications sunk in.

“I... don't feel super comfortable with the idea of sex, I mean, I like it with Kan Jian, and I like that he doesn't assume that me saying yes once means he always has permission, I had a boyfriend before Kan Jian and he... he didn't feel like he needed to ask, or that he needed to respect when I said no...”

Wu Xie made a mental note to find out the ex-boyfriend’s name and if he was still alive.

He used Liu Sang's pause to ask, “so who's after me on the list of people to ask?”

“No one,” Liu Sang replied, “for me, right now, it's Kan Jian, and maybe you, and then I'd rather just die.”

Wu Xie felt both honoured and horrified by the responsibility and trust being handed to him. 

“Liu Sang, if it comes down to it, I consent to live saving sex with you to save your life.”

Liu Sang let out a sigh of relief and relaxed, and Wu Xie was alarmed to realise just how tense and wound up Liu Sang had gotten.

“Thank you,” Liu Sang held out one hand, still slightly trembling, and it took a second for Wu Xie to remember he was still holding Liu Sang's consent card and hand it back. As the card was put back in the wallet, Wu Xie's brain snagged on part of their conversation.

“Hang on, when you say you 'like it with Kan Jian' and ‘boyfriend before Kan Jian’ ...”

Liu Sang looked at Wu Xie, his face slipping into an expression that made it clear he thought Wu Xie was some kind of dumbass.

“Kan Jian and I have been dating for ages now, our one year anniversary is literally two month away.”

“Why didn't I know about this?” Wu Xie felt affronted, how could they not have told him.

Liu Sang rolled his eyes and stood, dragging his stool back to it's previous place, “you've seen us hanging off each other, we are constantly clingy, what part of that was confusing for you? And yes, Kan Jian and I also spoke about who other than each other we'd give...” Liu Sang wrinkled his nose in distaste, “'live saving sex' consent to.”

Wu Xie watched as Liu Sang left, another little wave in place of a verbal 'goodbye'.

Did everyone else know those two had been dating? Wu Xie had to call Pangzi.

#dmbj #tltr #lost tomb reboot #reunion: the sound of the providence #liu sang #wu xie #i don't know if i should tag this as: #kansang #fics from the tomb #this isn't what i planned to write today #sad boi hours for liu sang again #why do I keep hurting him this way? #should I have saved this for whumptober?

[lyranova]

Leon and Alistar

Hi guys! So here’s Part 1 of a co-op fic of mine and @thoughtfullyrainynightmare ! We had to split it into 2 parts because it was so long 😅! Anyway hope you all enjoy~! Also this isn’t edited very well my apologies!

Word Count: 3,034

Taglist: @eme-eleff @jovialnoise @simpingforthisonedeer @succulentsunrise

Warnings: None

———

Clouds floated through the blue sky as people started gathering at the training grounds of Magic Knights' headquarters. New squad members had been admitted to the squads once more this year, but for most of them it was a day off.

However, that wasn't the case for these knights, who had been off on the evaluation day, since their parents had admitted them to the squad even without partaking into the exam. And this training took place for the purpose of bringing together the next generation of potential squad captains, or those who'd otherwise most likely end up in prominent roles in the kingdom.

The young knights were no strangers to each other; having passed each other by because of their parents' relationships, but this would be the first day of properly training together. Training and building towards a a more unionized generation of Magic Knights, where the robe you wore wouldn't be a stigma, creating "us or them" mentality within the knight ranks.

The Wizard King and Magic Knight Captains considered it one step closer to realizing their dreams of making one unified society. Alistar Vangeance, son of the Golden Dawn’s Captain, was the first to arrive at the Magic Knights HQ for this ‘bonding’ exercise. He admittedly thought it was a good idea, but he was a little hesitant as he didn’t know much about the other children except for Hikari. He leaned against one of the walls in the room as he watched the other children enter one by one, the Captains were all seated in the gallery above so they could get a bird’s eye view of the exercise.

“ Hm I wonder why the Vermillion kids are?” Hikari asked suddenly, making Alistar look at her. All the other children were there except for them.

“ Maybe they’re just running late?” He shrugged simply before the doors opened to reveal the Vermillion twins. Leonidas and Cyraleona.

“ Sorry we’re late, we got held up in the city, it won’t happen again.” Leonidas promised as his sister nodded in agreement. Fuegoleon sat down in his seat quickly as well.

Alistar admittedly had only met the two in passing and was usually very polite. As the orange haired young man walked past him Alistar nodded politely.

“ Leonidas.” The young man turned and nodded politely as well.

“ Alistar.”

Cyraleona quirked an eyebrow at her brother. He was keeping it civil, but there was something about the exchange that seemed tense, more so than usually. It was supposed to be about building better relations, but instead it seemed, at that moment, more as if both of them being prepared to defend their family honour.

"Hikari,"" she acknowledge with a smile while glancing at the raven haired girl next to Alistair, in the hopes of gently nudging her brother.

"Hi," Hikari greeted back. "Nice day, isn't it? Training is much more fun when it's not pouring down."

"Yes," Leonidas agreed with a small nod, glancing at Hikari and giving her a polite smile.

"Indeed," Alistair agreed as well, doing the same.

A moment of silence hung in the air as the grown-ups talked amongst themselves on the balcony; probably going through the day's agenda.

"I wonder what will be in store for the day," Hikari pondered out loud. "I can't imagine we'll be sparring for the whole day."

Alistar shrugged as he also looked up toward the adults. He was sure they probably had more planned then just fighting, especially since they kept calling it a ‘bonding’ experience. He noticed the Vermillion twins doing the same.

“ I would like to think it’ll be more than training. But who knows with our parents, especially since they do like to surprise us every now and then with something unexpected.” He chuckled and Hikari nodded.

“ They’ll probably have us start out with sparring and maybe even have us go out on a mock mission or something to test our skills as a team.” Cyrleona said softly as she turned to look back at the small group. Leonidas nodded.

“ That would be the smartest move, pair up two people to spar against one another and then make them have to work together.” Alistar placed a hand thoughtfully under his chin.

“ You sound like you know a lot more about this than you’re letting on.” Alistar meant it to come off as a joke, but it came out more like a serious statement. He watched Leonidas’s eyes narrow a bit before Hikari sighed beside him.

“ Well if that’s the case I hope I’m not paired up with you Alistar,” Hikari said quickly changing the subject. “ As your bodyguard I’m meant to protect you, not hurt you.”

As Alistar went to open his mouth to reply he watched as all the adults stood at the balconies edge and faced their children

"Listen up you brats," Yami was the first to speak up as he let his gaze travel around the room freely, but still looking at Hikari fondly for a brief second. "We have a full day planned ahead for you, so listen first and ask questions second."

Charlotte glanced at him from the corner of her eye, clearly disagreeing with his choice of words. But. He had always been like that, and though he was much more gentle around their kids, he hadn't changed the way he spoke to other's kids.

"Thank you Yami," William smiled at him. "I believe we all know why where here, so we can skip right through to the events of the day. You can probably guess that our aim isn't to only have you train in combat, but also grow in other areas of life."

Hikari could see a faint smirk pass over Alistair's lips as his father spoke the word 'grow'. But the moment only lasted for a fraction of a second, and no one else had noticed.

"You will begin the day by sparring in pairs, and to avoid our personal opinions on who should train with whom, we'll be drawing lots for the pairs," Fuegoleon continued. "And after you have sparred, you'll be partaking on a treasure hunt with your peer."

"A treasure hunt?" Cyra mumbled to herself. Her voice was full of surprise and spoken with a delicate tone, one that no one but the four of them could most likely hear.

“ Now,” Charlotte began as she stepped forward with a small goblet full of lots with the childrens names on them. One by one the Captain’s pulled out the names written on them. Alistar partially hoped he would be training with Hikari, but a small piece of his heart protested; he didn’t want to fight her, ever. Because that meant he could possibly hurt her.

“ Alistar Vangeance,” Yami suddenly announced as he looked at the lot with the white haired boy’s name on it. He hoped beyond hope the next lot would be Hikari’s, but his hopes were dashed when Yami read. “ Leonidas Vermillion.”

The two teens looked at each other with wide eyes as did the young girls. None had been expecting that. Alistar couldn’t even remember what Leonidas’s affinity was and Leonidas happened to be thinking the same thing.

Leonidas and Alistar quickly looked up towards the adults and saw the looks on their father’s faces; there was no way out of this.

“ Which leaves Hikari and Cyraleona as the last pair, we’ll be calling your names randomly to start the sparring matches.” William announced and the kids went off in their pairs. Hikari looked at Alistar apologetically and quickly mouthed ‘you’ll be ok!’ before going off with Cyraleona.

“ Well you were right; our parents do like to surprise us.” Leonidas told him before walking away and Alistar nodded in agreement before following after him to a nearby corner where they stood somewhat uncomfortably next to each other as they watched the other kids spar when their names were being called.

They walked up to the training grounds, standing on opposite side of the arena and looking at each other. Alistair took out his grimoire, leaving Leon wonder if he should do the same.

‘I've just finished crafting it, and I've been fine until now... But mom always says that I shouldn't rely on more simple spells at all times.’ He thought to himself, seeing Alistair frown.

‘Why isn't he taking out his grimoire? He does intend to use spells, right?’ His gaze shifted for a moment to the adults who hadn't yet given them permission to start the battle.

At the side of the field, Cyraleona couldn't help but lean a bit forward, while trying to keep herself otherwise composed. Leonidas hadn't yet shown her his grimoire, and he had used a good while in the process of making it in the first place. Thus, she couldn't help but feel the flicker of excitement of probably seeing him fight with it for the first time.

‘No... I think I can manifest it during the battle if need be. Because your grimoire is your lifeline, right? Any attacks to it would mean certain death, right? Because Cloverians' life is connected into their grimoires while for Theans it's a manifestation of their powers, right? And I'm both, so I can't say for certain.’ He took a deep breath and set his mind to the task.

"Oy-oy Vermillion. What's up with your boy?" Yami asked on the balcony. "He's not taking out his grimoire."

"It's something he gets from his mother's side," Fue only commented. "I can't say that I agree with it, but it's his choice to make."

William frowned at Fuegoleon’s comment but didn’t say anything, he just turned to look back at the battle. Alistar looked calm and relaxed, but those that knew him knew better; he was anticipating his attack. Possibly even trying to guess what the young Vermillions first move would be.

“ You may begin!” Nozel shouted suddenly just as Alistar tilted his head curiously.

‘Let’s see what you’ve got, Vermillion.’ He instantly flipped through the pages of his grimoire as he finally landed on a spell. He smiled slightly before it disappeared, this would probably be his safest bet to try since he didn’t know what magic to use.

“ World Plant Creation Magic; Ice-Plant’s entanglement!” He watched as the fire resistant plant began to spring up from the floor and tried to wrap around Leonidas.

The boys began to dodge and maneuver around the arena as they cast offensive and defensive spells at one another. Hikari watched with a smirk on her face; he was giving Alistar a run for his money, the only one she had seen ever give him this much of a challenge was herself.

‘Come on Alistar you’ve got this! Push past your limits!’ She cheered internally, she wanted her best friend to succeed.

“ Your sons doing a very fine job Fuegoleon.” William complimanted, Fuego smiled and nodded.

“ As is yours. We raised two very capable mages I think.” Fuego said as his son sent another spell towards the young Vangeance

"Burning Sun Magic; Sunrays!" He called out while shooting scorching rays at Alistair.

‘Damn it! I can't win like this. This isn't Thea so I don't have a nearly endless pool of mana from which to draw. He's going to run out of mana too if we keep this up, but then it'll be a question of which runs out first. And relying on the 'chance' that it'd be him, would be just bad tactics.’ He took the moment he had while Alistair was dodging his attack to collect his mana, and manifest his grimoire before him.

"Hm?" Yami hummed while leaning closer. "He's creating a grimoire?"

"'Creating' wouldn't be the correct term to use here," Fuegoleon commented. "He has had his grimoire for a few months now, but for some reason he refuses to use it."

William glance at Fuegoleon, unsure of how to feel because of the explanation. But if Leonidas indeed refused to use his grimoire freely then that must've meant that Alistair had forced him to do so. And that could be counted as a compliment, right?

Leon collected mana, as if waves of pure energy collecting in his hands. And as soon as it had formed into a shape of a book, he let the pages flutter open as he called out: "Burning Sun magic; Heat wave!"

The arena became flooded with scorching, burning mana, while Leon spoke out: "I might not be able to burn your plants. But they can still wilt, right? And even if your magic won't, the 'you' can get dehydrated, right?"

‘This is my safest bet. I might not be able to hit him, but if he can't get far enough from my spell's reach, then he has to go all out and maybe, maybe exhaust himself.’ Leonidas thought.

———

Alistar and Leonidas stood there listening as the Captain’s explained the Treasure hunt. Both had fainted from excessive mana use, which was somewhat embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as Hikari chewing Alistar out for it in front of everyone, while Cyraleona had gently scolded her twin. Fuego and William both shook their heads in disapproval, but their battle ending in a draw meant two things; one, that they were evenly matched, and two they both still had a lot to learn.

“ Now the rules are simple; each team has a map and a compass, you are not allowed to use mapping spells as not every mage has one. You have 2 hours to find the treasure, if no one finds it then it will be a draw.” Vangeance explained quickly.

“ Your time begins now.” Fugeo announced and each team went off in different directions.

Alistar glanced over at Leonidas as they went off in the direction the compass led them, he gave Leonidas the compass while he held the map. They walked silently for the most part, saying a few coordinates here and there.

“ What does this thing even look like?” He muttered and the orange haired male shrugged.

“ Like a box I assume.” Leonidas muttered as well, both were feeling a little defeated at their sparring match, but maybe if they found the treasure before anyone else would make up for it. Alistar for sure wanted to find it before Hikari, they had made a small bet that the losing team would have to do whatever the winning team asked for an entire day.

"I really thought that they would have had something more... intellectually stimulating in store for us...." Alistair muttered to himself as they continued forward.

"Yeah..." Leonidas agreed. "Something more than travel an X amount of miles to a given distance and dig up a box would have been nice."

"If it even is a box," Alistair frowned while looking at the map in his hand.

"What else could it possibly be? It has to be something small enough for us to carry, right?" Leonidas shrugged again while looking at the white haired male.

"That's true," Alistair admitted. "But the girls went to the opposite direction, so we aren't competing for the same treasure. That has to mean something."

They shared a glance as they both thought about what it could possibly mean while a silence settled into the air.

"How far is it supposed to be?" Leonidas asked after a while of pondering.

"Well, given how much we've moved during this time, I'd say half an hour more," Alistair commented.

"You think it could be a dungeon, or is it an open area?" Leonidas asked, wanting to have a better idea of what they'd be instore for.

"I don't think it really qualifies as a dungeon, but there might be a structure nearby it."

“ Hm,” Alistar looked around before he started walking again. “ they would want it to be concealed but not too concealed where we can’t find it.” He muttered looking around.

“ How about that building over there? It looks like the perfect spot.” Leonidas pointed toward a small, half standing building in the distance. It was in an open area but behind it stood dark woods, an ambush could easily be inside. The two boys quickly made their way towards it slowly.

“ Be cautious; we don’t know what we’re in for.” Alistar said and the orange haired boy nodded in agreement, Alistar and Leonidas stood still for a few moments. Both trying to sense if there was mana inside the building.

“ It’s faint, but it’s there.” Leonidas said as he looked towards the white haired boy who nodded.

“ Yeah, someone’s in there. But it feels like one person so I think we can take them.” Alistar said thoughtfully before the two boys rushed in and saw...nothing?

“ Hm this is odd, why do we feel mana but there isn’t a single person here?” Leonidas mused as he looked around, Alistar shrugged as he walked to the center of the room where the “treasure” sat.

“ Well, this is anticlimatic.” Alistar chuckled. “ I was hoping it would be something *more* then just a box-.” He didn’t get to finish his sentence as they were attacked suddenly by people in bandits robes.

“ Ah I should’ve know; our parents wouldn’t make getting the treasure that easy.” Leonidas chuckled as he and Alistar began to fight off the “bandits”.

Luckily it was the two of them against three, and since they knew it to be a fake fight, the battle didn't take long. And, as suspected, the "bandits" turned out to be members of their parents' squads. ‘Too easy’ Alistair and Leon thought to themselves.

They were able to grab the box, which was a simple wooden one, seemingly nothing much on it. There was only a faint glow of mana from it, almost as if long forgotten, dormant mana.

"Should we still see what's inside of it?" Leon thought out loud.

Alistair turned his head for a moment before shrugging. "Well it's not against the rules, so suppose there's no harm in it."

The two halted their steps to inspect the box. The lock of it didn't pose any problems to them, so it didn't take long for the two of them to crack open the lid to reveal... an image of a red herring.

———

Part 2 will be posted shortly! Thank you guys for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

#black clover fanfic #oc fanfic #oc; alistar #oc; leonidas #leonidas is not my oc #oc; hikari #hikari is not my oc #oc; cyraleona #cyraleona is not my oc #william vangeance #fuegoleon vermillion

[tinyboxxtink]

"Reunion" A Sam Gardener/Paige Hardaway "Fix It" One Shot *Atypical*

Alright, I should have been working on my series but ya'll I finished ATypical last night and I was FUMING. Actually I still am fuming. So fuming I had to write a "fix it" fic for the ending of the Sam and Page story. It will NOT end at the Olive Garden. I refuse to believe that.

So I spent all day writing this. I don't care if anyone likes or agrees with it, this was for me. In my heart this is how they ended up. Okay? Okay.

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

“My my my, Sammy you are lookin’ FLY!” Zahid stepped back and admired his work. Sam had reluctantly let him pick out his outfit for tonight. He felt very uncomfortable in the soft cotton t-shirt NOT the regular cotton t-shirt, distressed jeans NOT regular and non-holy, and an unbuttoned dark blue flannel, NOT a normal polo. But he wanted to look a certain way for tonight, something he thought she’d like. He needed tonight to go perfectly, and not because his atypical brain needed it to. His heart needed it to.

“Thank you Zahid, I’m very uncomfortable. That’s how I know I look good to other people,” Sam nodded.

“So true,” Zahid nodded. “Now are you sure you don’t want me to come with you tonight? Be your wing man?”

“No,” He shook his head as he studied himself in the full length mirror. “I need to do do this on my own, no birds necessary,”

“That’s my Sammy Sam,” Zahid beamed. “Always so literal,”

“Well, I’ll see you after the party ends. Probably before,”

“Unless things go well..” Zahid wiggled his eyebrows.

“If they go according to plan I will still come back home, you know this is the one of the only three places I can spend the night. The other two being my childhood home and Antarctica,”

“Yes I do know that,” Zahid nodded. “I am so proud of you for spending two months in that popsicle freezer, by the way,”

“I didn’t see one popsicle while I was in Antarctica, but I appreciate your praise Zahid,”

“Anytime, Sam. Permission to hug?”

“Permission granted. I’d normally say no in fear of wrinkling my clothes, but I’m pretty sure they’re already as wrinkled as they can be,” Sam raised his arms, gesturing to the crinkled flannel and jeans.

“Alright, well go and get her man!” Zahid wrapped Sam in a huge, tight hug.

“I hope so,” Sam nodded before walking out the door and down to his car that he could legally drive now.

-----------

When he arrived at the school, he parked and went inside, He glanced down at the invitation he needed to enter the party:

“REUNITE WITH YOUR FELLOW OWLS! 5 YEAR REUNION FOR THE CLASS OF 2019!”

He couldn’t believe it had been five years since he had walked down these halls. It seemed to go by so fast; from going to Antarctica to graduating from Denton to getting a job at the aquarium as a vendor selling his drawings of Stumpy and the other marine life. He would even take long term commissions or draw guests right there on the spot. He didn’t like doing those so much though.

He approached the table apprehensively, hoping he wouldn’t be met with any of his tormentors from high school. But to his absolute relief and delight, there to greet him was the very person he had come to see. Her blonde hair was missing it’s usual blue streak, but other than that she looked exactly like he had remembered her: Beautiful.

“Sam!!” Her eyes lit up when she saw him walking up. She ran around the table and met him before he even reached it. She almost went for a huge hug, but she wasn’t sure if they were still in that stage where he trusted her enough to do so without permission.

But to her absolute shock, Sam opened his arms and welcomed her embrace unprompted. Tears lined her eyes as she hugged him as tightly as she could.

"Hello Paige," He simply stated as she had her arms around him. Suddenly she was catching something she’d also never thought would happen

“Sam, are you wearing cologne?” She asked him softly in his ear, not wanting to let him go just yet.

“Yes,” He nodded as he pulled back just a little to face her, but still his arms around her. He usually hated soft touch or holding of any kind, but with Paige everything was different.

“But you hate foreign smells, especially on your body,” Paige blinked in disbelief while also mentally noting that Sam was not letting her out of his grip.

“Yes, I do,” He nodded again. “But I read that this cologne produces pheromones for the female human,”

“Sam!” Paige blushed, biting her lip and looking at the floor. “Why would you need that?”

“For the ladies obviously, buddy,” Sam used his line for lying, dropping his arms around her. He couldn’t focus on more than one social skill at a time. “You look very nice tonight by the way, Paige,” He added the compliment to complete the lie.

“Oh,” Paige’s voice fell a little soft and disappointed, but Sam was unable to detect it.

“Are you done with your duties? I’d have some things I’d like to discuss with you,” Sam gestured to the table where two other women were taking “tickets’”.

“Absolutely!” Paige replied over excitedly. “I’ll just tell them I’m taking my break,”

“I don’t want to break anything, Paige. I’d just like to talk,” Sam said in a distressed tone. He didn’t want Paige to think he was going to attack her.

“Oh no no no Sam,” She laughed nervously. She missed how literal Sam was. “I meant a rest from work,”

“Oh, right,” Sam shook his head nervously, picking at his fingers. He should have known that, he knew what a break was. Paige just made his thoughts foggy.

“Shall we?” Paige pointed down the hall. Sam nodded and followed her into an empty classroom where they could talk uninterrupted. She pulled up a chair at a desk while Sam did the same, then she realized where they were.

“Oh my goodness,” She whispered.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” She waved her hands dismissively. “Not at all Sam. It’s just--” She paused and looked around. “Do you know where we are?”

Same studied the room for a moment, when his eyes caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower.

“We’re in the French Classroom, where I brought you your penguin necklace so you'd be my girlfriend again, and then you kissed me for the first time,” He informed her matter of factly, but with a small smile, a thing he never did for anyone else.

“Yes,” She nodded with a small smile while her cheeks turned red.

“That was a very good day,” Sam nodded while recalling the memory. He would never admit it to anyone, but that was his first kiss.

“Yes, yes it was,” Paige nodded as well.

“That relates to what I’d like to discuss with you, Paige,”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” He nodded while looking at the floor. He was extremely nervous to do this, but he wanted to do it now before he lost his nerve.

“Well, I guess first of all I should ask-- do you have a boyfriend right now?”

“Sam!” She blushed even more; she forgot how blunt and honest Sam was, straight to the point.

“That’s not yes or no,” He stared at her.

“It’s...complicated,” She played with her hair nervously.

“How is it complicated? You either have a boyfriend or you don’t,” Sam was confused.

“Well the short answer is no, I don’t,”

“Okay then,” He started to continue his line of questioning, but Paige put her hands up.

“Wait wait,” She stopped him, trying not to laugh at his eagerness. “Don’t you want to know the long answer?”

“Not really, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me,” Sam shrugged.

“Yes I am,” She agreed as she took a deep breath to explain her story. Sam was not looking forward to a long story, but he loved hearing Paige talk. Also he could block her out at any time if he got bored with her words.

“Well, while I was working in Georgia my managers realized what a great foreman I would make,”

“How can you be four men?” Sam asked quizzically.

“No no,” She giggled. “A FORE-MAN, Sam. It basically means I tell people what to do at the building sites,”

“Oh,” Sam shook his head in understanding. “Well you are good at bossing people around,”

“Thank you,” She half laughed. “So, I moved up and up and now I’m a manager myself,”

“I thought you hated being a manager," Sam's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "That's why you used your magic birds to quit Spud E"s,"

"I did hate it there," She chuckled as she remembered that day. "But just because it was at Spud E's. You can hate or love something depending on your happiness in doing it,"

"Oh," Sam just nodded, even though he didn't understand it.

"Anyway, so while I was working my way up the ladder, I met this guy Daniel," Paige's voice lowered as she said his name, she saw Sam's face turn to distress.

"Oh," Sam looked at the floor. "So Daniel is your complicated boyfriend,"

"No no no!" She wanted to take Sam's eyes to make him look up at her but she didn't want to make him more upset.

"No, we did date for a while. And then last week, after I got the invitation for this thing, Daniel took me to dinner," Paige paused, not wanting to push him further emotionally by saying the next thing.

"And he asked me to marry him," She said softly. To her surprise Sam's head popped back up with an even more distressed face.

"So you don't have a boyfriend you have a husband,"

"No!," She once again started going for his hands instinctively to comfort someone, but she knew it was different with Sam. Everything was different with Sam.

"Sam, will you let me get through the whole story before you ask questions, please?" She knew she had to flat out ask him to follow social cues.

"Yes," He nodded.

"Okay," she put her hands in her lap to finish her story.

"When he asked me to marry him, I sat there and I thought about it. For a long time. And I thought back to that afternoon when I got the invitation to come here. I was so excited to come,"

"You do love it here," Sam nodded. Paige gave him a look. "What? You said no questions, That was an observation."

"Right," she nodded her head with a laugh. "Well, then I realized I was more excited about coming back here than I was about the prospect of marrying him,"

"Oh." Sam simply replied while looking at the floor once again. Paige wondered if he understood what she was trying to tell him. Finally after several seconds, he raised his head and looked her in the eyes.

"Paige, now may I ask you a question?"

"Yes Sam," she nodded.

"Good," he nodded looking back at the floor. He wanted to pick the right words, he knew he had only one chance at this. He was so lost in his head he didn't realize how long the awkward pause was lasting.

"Um Sam," Paige's voice knocked him out of his thoughts.

"Right," He nodded, rubbing his sweating hands together.

"Paige," He took a deep breath. "Did you say no to marrying Daniel because the archaic institution of marriage disgusts you, or did you say no because you didn't want to spend the rest of your life with him?"

Paige's smile grew bigger at the question. He did understand what she was saying.

"I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with him." She smiled.

"Good." He nodded, making Paige softly giggle. He didn't hide his thoughts, that's for sure.

"Paige may I ask another question?"

"Yes, Sam,"

"Good." He nodded. This was it, the big question. If he could survive 54 days in Antarctica, he could survive this.

"Paige, would you say yes to marrying someone if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with that person"

"Yes Sam," she nodded with tears in her eyes. "If the right person asked me, I would definitely say yes"

"Paige," he didn't form the statement as a question this time, the one time she was hoping for a question.

"Yes, Sam?" She asked with a very anxious tone, tears threatening to fall down either way this went.

Once again he looked at the ground, furiously picking at a loose stand in the flannel sleeve. She debated whether to say something this time, she could tell he was thinking very hard about something and she didn't want to throw him off. Finally, he looked up once again with the lightest hint of wet pupils.

"....I'm the right person" He said with a very matter of fact tone. He didn't ask, he spoke it as if it was the truest fact in the whole world. He was never absolutely sure of anything, but this one exception.

Paige couldn't hold it any longer, happy tears dripped her face. To her surprise Sam was holding his hands out for her to take. The one other time this happened their love story was ending. She had said that day that maybe someday, they would pick up where they left off. And that day was here.

She gently placed her hands in Sam's as closed his fingers so they intertwined with hers. She looked at him with the same look of love she had when they parted.

"I think you're the right person too," She answered him with a tear filled smile.

To her delight his face lit up with overwhelming happiness, something very rare for him. Even better, he pulled her up out of her seat with his hands still holding hers and kissed her.

It was very softly at first like she was accustomed to given his apprehension with displays of affection, but to her continual shock that evening she suddenly felt his lips press harder against hers, the hardest they'd ever been in fact.

The surprises continued when his mouth ever so slightly, and his tongue traced the very littlest bit of the inside of her lip.

She went as slow as she could, following his lead. She absolutely did not want to ruin this for either of them, and she knew what a huge and probably terrifying event this was for him.

Sam slipped his tongue into Paige's mouth little bit by bit, as slow as Edison's movements. But as he felt the roof of her mouth against his tongue, he began to panic at the thought of the germs they were trading right now. His instincts wanted to abruptly push her away from him, but he couldn't do that to Paige.

Instead he removed his tongue and his mouth away from her, quickly but as gently as his neurosis would allow. To his relief, Paige was smiling from the encounter.

"Wow, Sam that was--" She tried to find the words. That kiss they had just shared was even more intimate than any time they made love.

"That was amazing,"

"I practiced that from a video I saw on YouTube," He smiled proudly. "And Zahid,"

"Zahid?!" Paige almost laughed at his last statement. "You practiced kissing on Zahid?"

"What?! No?" Sam made a disgusted face. "I'm not Casey, or Magic and Sphen,"

"Who are Magic and Sphen?" Paige asked curiously.

"Gay penguins," Sam informed her.

"Of course," she shook her head with a soft laugh. She had missed his affection for penguins.

"Anyway Zahid just showed me how, with his girlfriend Honey," Sam continued.

"You know we don't have to talk about how you learned it, Sam," She laughed awkwardly. "I'm just curious, did you--- did you practice that for girls in general, or me?"

"You, of course," Sam replied in an obvious tone.

"I've never wanted any other girl's germs in my mouth, but for you I wanted to make an exception. I read that physical affection is important in a relationship, and if we're going to be in one for the rest of our lives I thought I should learn more,"

"Oh that's so sweet!" Paige grinned.

"Yes, I know." Sam nodded proudly once more. "If we both brush our teeth profusely and use the strong mouthwash we can try it again,"

"Oh, well that should be--" Paige started to respond but Sam was busy opening the backpack he brought everywhere.

He soon pulled out two toothbrushes still in the package along with unopened bottles of mouthwash and toothpaste.

"Oh you meant right now," Paige laughed in amusement.

"Of course right now, we're going to be together for a long time, we should start practicing now," He shook his head in an obvious manner.

"Sound logic," She agreed.

"Wait, I almost forgot something Paige," He went back into his backpack. He was so focused on getting through the proposal he forgot the best part.

"Oh?" She tried looking where he was rummaging.

"Yes," he finally pulled out a sparkling rock from the backpack and stood up.

"This is a rock from Stumpy's tank. I work there now. Not in her tank, but the aquarium." He explained.

"Oh thats--"

"Paige, can you wait to ask questions until I finish my story?" He mimicked her question to him like a parrot.

"I--" Paige started to correct him by saying she was making a comment not asking a question, but she thought better of it. "Yes Sam,"

"Good," he shook his head in approval.

"Like I was saying, this is a rock from Stumpy's tank. I made sure it was one none of the penguins would miss, but was also very shiny and pretty." He explained as he presented the rock. She just nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"When a male penguin wants to mate with a female penguin, he searches and searches for the perfect pebble to present the female. I didn't have time to find the "perfect' one, and its not a pebble its a rock--," Sam noticed Paige's start to make the face she'd make when he was over informing her.

"Anyway," He dismissed the rest of his penguins fact buzzing in his head. He was already on the ground when he pulled out the toothbrushes and the rock, but he knew there was a specific way you had to be on the ground to ask this question.

He moved one leg so he was kneeling on one knee. He presented the rock more towards Paige, who was crying once again. Sam had to remind himself that people cried when they were happy as well as being sad, especially females. So he didn't have to worry if she was sad.

"Would you accept this rock?" He asked nervously.

He didn't know why he was nervous she had already said she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, but this gesture meant even more to him, given that penguins were his favorite thing. Next to Paige.

"Of course I will Sam," she nodded happily as she took the rock from him.

"Oh also," He pulled a small diamond ring from his pants pocket and held it out to her.

"My mom said its better to give a girl this so they can wear it, but diamonds aren't a rock," He laughed to himself like it was the craziest thing in the world to give a girl a silly mineral opposed to a sturdy rock.

"Oh my god," Paige softly whispered as he slipped the ring on her finger.

He had told his mother he was going to ask her to marry him. He had planned this ahead of time, even though he had no idea what she would say. He loved her so much, and she truly loved him as much in return.

Finally done with everything he had planned to do, Sam got back up off his knees and gave Paige a small peck on the lips.

"I love you, Paige," He smiled.

He had practiced saying those words longer than he had practiced kissing. He started saying it in the mirror at first, then saying it to his mom, then his dad, then Casey.

He had always felt the emotion for them, he just never felt the need to announce it. But he knew it was important to hear for neurotypicals, especially Paige.

When he had said he was in love with her before the lock in, she had needed several minutes to process it. He hoped she wouldn't need minutes processing this, he wanted to practice kissing again.

To his relief she only took about 30 seconds to accept that she wasn't dreaming or hallucinating, he had actually said the words out loud to her for the very first time.

"I love you too, Sam," She kept crying from happiness as he gently kissed her once again.

And they did indeed spend the rest of their lives together, just like penguins.

#sam and paige #saige #sage #sam gardner #paige hardaway #atypical #fix it fic #i love them so much #jenna boyd #keir gilchrist

[chasingforeverandaday]

Can I ask for #23 from the fluff writing prompts please? “I’d rather live in the woods with you than in a mansion with some (boy/girl/person) I barely know.” I mean, it’s just screaming gendrya at me! Thank you!

Well, how does some Regency era AU sound? This one ended up a full on one shot, because I fell down a rabbit hole real fast. Also I got to write Robb, which was super fun because I never write Robb. He may be a bit out of character, but I feel like if any of the Stark siblings would understand Arya’s conflict of love and duty, it would absolutely be Robb.

half agony, half hope

There are times that Gendry Waters thinks his life would be so much simpler if he’d ever actually learned how to say no to Miss Arya Stark, sister to the Lord of Winterfell. He can stall her in her impulsivities yes, or can sometimes talk her around to his point of view on a matter, but straight up denying her when she looks up at him with those big grey eyes and the pout he always wishes to kiss from her lips?

Stronger men than him would capitulate without question.

Stronger men have.

So when she barges into his smithy one June morning, he steels himself for whatever new (potentially scandalous) misadventure she has in mind for them. But the stricken look on her face as she quietly requests that he close up early and meet her in his personal quarters ignites a panic in his belly, and he hustles the other customers out as quickly as he can after she leaves.

Door locked and forge cooled for the day, he hurries through washing up and finds her in his rooms, pacing back and forth in front of the hearth. He can see the exact moment she notices his presence, as her head whips around to his and her face crumples. Terror seizes in his veins and he crosses the room in two strides to pull her into his arms.

She doesn’t fight him, just lets herself be held for a moment before wrapping her arms around his waist so tightly he thinks she’ll never let go. A shudder passes through her slim frame, then one hand reaches up to bend his neck downwards, her mouth seeking his.

Gods know he’d be happy to kiss her forever, but something must have shaken Arya badly for her to show up unannounced and ask him to abandon his work. Pulling away to lean his forehead against hers, he asks, “Love, what’s wrong?

A tiny voice he’s never associated with Arya Stark whispers, “How quickly can you be ready to leave?”

“What?” Utterly bewildered, he pushes her back farther so he can read her face, but she just burrows her face into his neck, clinging onto him like a limpet. Cautiously, he moves them to his narrow bed, sitting on the edge as she falls into his lap, all the while never letting him go.

She looks up at him then, eyes a little harder, a little more sure as she takes his hands in hers. “Run away with me. Gendry, please, we need to go, and it needs to be as soon as possible.”

“I don’t understand, I thought we had more time, that I had more time to…” Prove myself worthy of you, let myself learn to let you go, something, anything but be forced to watch you choose between me and your family.

“My mother’s invited suitors from houses Frey, Dayne, and Arryn to Winterfell, and I heard her tell Robb earlier that she won’t be letting me reject all of them.” Turning away as she speaks, Arya curls into him more, making herself look even smaller if that were even possible. “She intends to have me wedded and bedded by the end of the summer, seems to think it will curb my more unladylike tendencies.”

“Arya, you’re only twenty two for gods’ sake. She can hardly be that desperate to be putting you on the shelf already!” Almost as an afterthought, he mumbles into her hair, “And I like your unladylike tendencies.”

A sad smile on her face, Arya cups his cheek with her palm as she stays seated in his lap. “I know you do. I think she just wants me to be someone else’s problem now. Besides, all my siblings but Rickon have made good matches and are married. But what my mother said isn’t the important part.”

There’s a subtle shift in her voice as she draws herself fully upright, the pain replaced by something a little more hopeful. She’s finally looking at him again, her grey eyes searching his.

“Because Robb…” she took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders before looking him straight in the eye. “Robb told her he thought I should have more of a choice. He said that yes, I should marry, but that it didn’t have to be one of them. He told her that none of them would make me happy, and that I should marry a man who made me smile, not grimace every time I looked at him.”

Rubbing a hand up and down her back, Gendry cannot help but wonder, “That’s good, even I know that’s a good thing, but why…?”

“Because Robb walked out of his study and found me standing there, pale as a ghost I’m sure. He took me back to my room, and he told me that he thought I shouldn’t be forced to marry a man I didn’t love.” One of her hands comes to rest over his heart, fluttering rapidly at her touch. “Somehow, he knew about you and me, because then he told me he’d been thinking about commissioning you for some ironwork around the estate, and perhaps I could go to town to speak with you about it, since neither he nor Bran could do so today.”

The pieces fall together, and a little of Arya’s hope finds a home with Gendry. “So you think he’s giving us his blessing, and we’re running away.”

“I know he is, he just can’t come out and say it because of who he is.” Threading her fingers through his own, Arya holds their clasped hands together like a talisman, pressing a light kiss to the back of his before looking up with a smile. “We’re going to Gretna Green, and we’re going to get married like we’ve wanted to for three years, and then I’m going to actually learn how to keep a house and run your smithy, and we’re going to be happy, Gendry, so incredibly happy.”

“Aye, in our tiny little home with two rooms and no grand paintings or pianos or anything fancy like what you have up at Winterfell.” He knows that Arya says she has no care for those things, but he needs to remind her of the difference in their standing, just one last time before they make this choice that will alter their lives forever.

“Stupid boy,” she giggles, poking him in the nose with the first true grin he’s seen on her face this afternoon, “I’d rather live in the woods with you than in a manor with some person I barely know. I mean, ideally we live somewhere with a forge for you, but as long as you’re with me, I’m hardly going to be picky.”

Bending down, Gendry allows himself to brush a quick kiss to her lips, a promise made without words. “Give me a few days, so I can finish up my orders and get everything ready so I can leave. Just don’t say yes to any other proposals, and we’ll be saying our vows in a fortnight.”

-/-/-

A sennight later, as she prepares her horse for the journey as surreptitiously as she can, the stable door creaks open. Terrified that it will be that one stablehand who always tells her mother when she leaves the estate without asking permission, Arya hides in the shadows of Nymeria’s stall, peeking out into the center aisle into the hazy, pre-dawn light.

It’s Robb, carefully shutting the door behind him. He walks straight up to her hiding place and holds out his hand to her, a small smirk on his face. “Come out sister, we’ve not much time to waste.”

Slowly, she leads Nymeria out of the stall, fingers tightly gripping her reins. Her brother looks older than she’s ever seen him before. He looks like a lord in a way he never has before, one with the world weighing on his shoulders. But then her eyes meet his, and he smiles at her, and Robb is her big brother once more.

Dropping Nym’s reins, Arya throws herself into his arms, trusting that he will catch her implicitly. She’ll miss this, she thinks, having a brother she knows she can depend on.

When they finally pull away, Robb reaches up to wipe a tear she hadn’t even noticed from her eye. “There now, this won’t be the last time we see each other, little sister. Besides, one would think you’d be happier to be heading off on such a grand adventure with your blacksmith.”

Laughing wetly, she replied, “I am, trust me, I am anxious to start our lives together, I just…” here she shrugged, fidgeting her hands as she tried to gather the words to express herself. “This is the last time I’ll be in Winterfell as Arya Stark, or maybe ever if Mother reacts the way I think she will when she finds out. I’ll miss it here, even when Gendry and I have a new home. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

“You’ll always have a home here, for as long as I’m the lord. Probably after too, as you and I both know you’re Little Ned’s favorite auntie. But I think you’ll be far happier living wherever you and your husband end up than you would locked up in a London townhouse with whatever ponce our Mother has handpicked for you.” The disgusted face he made at his own words made her smile again, which she knew was exactly why he’d done so in the first place.

Serious again, Robb placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze as he said, “I’ve grown to love Jeyne, I have, but I’ve never looked at her the way your Mr. Waters looks at you, or you look at him, and neither has Sansa’s husband. You’re incandescently happy whenever you’re near him, and I can always tell when you haven’t spoken to him in days because you’re so quiet, like you’re holding in all of your thoughts until you can share them with him.”

He sighed before continuing in a soft tone, “If you hadn’t found him, hadn’t fallen in love, then I would try to arrange a marriage for you that could lead to your overall happiness in life. But you did. You fell in love years ago, and I’m glad that at least one of us gets to experience that joy in this lifetime.”

Moving to hold her hand in his left, he reached with his right into the breast pocket of his coat and pulled out an envelope. “This is the information for the accounts I’ve had set up in your name in London.” He placed it in her hand and looked her square in the eyes. “You may not be marrying with a proper trousseau, but this way you won’t be entering this marriage without your dowry. You don’t need to worry about Mother’s reaction either, I’ll take care of it. Jon will meet you in Scotland, I’ve already sent him an express explaining everything.”

Shocked at all the things he had thought of and put in place for her, Arya could only manage to sob, “Robby, I…” before hugging him again.

Her brother pulled her close once more, placing a kiss on her brow before pulling away. “I love you, and I’m sorry I cannot do more. Be happy, Arya. Be happy and one day when we’re old and grey, you’ll tell me stories of all your adventures with the man I know you love and the adorable little children I’m sure you’ll have. Now go, the tasks I set for James cannot take much longer, and you have quite the ride ahead of you.”

With that, Robb helped her onto her horse and led her outside as the sun rose. After he let her go, Arya pushed Nymeria into a trot, determined to make her way to the closed smithy before the people of Wintertown fully awoke. She only let herself look back once, barely able to see the figure of her brother as he waved her off into her future.

#gendrya #writing prompt #my writing #regency au

[lilacivories]

caught red-handed

characters: Diego, Klaus, Allison

pairing(s): none

summary: Diego and Allison catch Klaus going through Allison’s things again and decide that a suitable punishment is in order

word count: 1979

––––––––––––––––

When Diego passed by Allison’s room, what he didn’t expect to hear was thumping, shuffling, and swearing in a voice that definitely wasn’t his sister’s.

His curiosity successfully piqued, Diego backtracked.

Of course, the villain in question was Klaus, who was squirming around in Allison’s closet like a fish out of water. From the looks of it, he was struggling to detach one of the skirts from its hanger. Among the cursing, Diego was able to hear some mutterings, presumably towards Ben.

“You’re gonna tear it if you keep pulling like that, y’know.”

Klaus yelped and spun his head around, his hands remaining on the hanger. “Diego!” he said with a grin. “What a surprise! Oh, and what a prize I’ve found here. Won’t you give me a hand, oh dearest brother?”

Diego moved closer, wondering what could possibly be hindering him (besides the height of the clothing rack, which was honestly ridiculous). It was only then that he saw what looked like a pair of handcuffs attached to the clothing rack that had Klaus’s wrists in their grip, hidden between two of the skirts Klaus had been attempting to pilfer.

Diego couldn’t help but smirk. “What in the hell did you do to yourself?”

“It wasn’t me!” Klaus insisted. “Allison must’ve set up some damn booby trap and now I’m stuck!” He pulled again on the cuffs, but they held fast, and effectively kept his arms restrained above his head. “Diego, help me!”

“I dunno, man,” Diego shrugged, unable to wipe the smile from his face, “you kinda deserve it. Allison did tell you to stay away from her stuff.” He took another look at his brother. “Are you already wearing one of her skirts?”

Klaus shimmied his hips so that the knee-length skirt swung around invitingly. “Yeah, but she’s loaded! She can afford a million of these, and I’m out here having to steal to get by in the fashion world! It’s a capitalist scheme, is what it is!”

“I don’t think you’re in the position to be making claims like that.”

Klaus kicked a leg out at him. “Oh, shut up and let me out of here.”

Thanks to years of practice, Diego deftly caught the offending leg and held it by the ankle. “You’re also not in the position to be threatening the only person who can help you right now.” Klaus was only wearing socks, so it certainly wouldn’t have hurt Diego in any case, but the idea of tormenting his brother was always on the table.

“No no no!” Klaus struggled to break Diego’s grip in vain. “Let go! Ben, he-elp!” The last word broke off as a squeal when Diego squeezed the spot just above his knee over and over.

“This is almost too easy,” Diego gloated over the laughter pouring out of his brother. “I’m barely doing anything to you!”

“Shut up!” Klaus struggled for footing on the one leg he had at his disposal, and that combined with his high-pitched laugh and scrunched nose had Diego laughing, too.

“Looks like my idea was a success.”

Diego dropped Klaus’s leg at the voice from behind him. Allison was standing in the doorway, eyebrow cocked and arms crossed, looking very pleased with herself.

Feeling a bit abashed at having been caught, Diego cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I’m kind of impressed, they’re holding really well. Where did you get them?”

Allison walked in to stand beside Number 2, sparing Klaus an amused glance as she replied. “I told Pogo that a certain someone was sneaking into my room and going through my personal things. He seemed particularly interested in catching...” She looked pointedly at Klaus, “...whoever it is, so he and Mom made those for me to attach to the inside of my closet. Pretty hi-tech, huh?”

Klaus took the opportunity to try and weasel his way out of the prison of his own making. “Allison! Please, save me! All I wanted was to bond with you over our mutual love of fashion, and Diego’s been torturing me!”

Diego and Allison caught each other’s eye. “Is that so?” Allison asked.

“Yes, it’s been just awful! You’ve got to get me out of here!”

Allison feigned innocence. “What was he doing that was so awful?”

Diego almost laughed at the sight of Klaus, strung up and helpless, open and close his mouth like a gaping fish at the question. “What?” he finally squeaked.

“What was Diego doing to you?”

It was always a pleasure to see Klaus at a loss for words, and this time was no exception. All he could answer, after a short silence, was: “Nothing!”

“Nothing?” Allison asked. She took a step towards him; the click of her heels on the floor was intimidating all on its own. “So if Diego wasn’t doing anything, that means that...you lied to me.”

“I– I– I mean–”

“And it means,” she continued, “that you have not yet been properly punished for going through my things without permission.” Her smile was pure evil. “So I think that this calls for a double punishment. Don’t you, Diego?”

Diego’s grin matched hers. “Couldn’t agree more.”

“W-wait, we can talk about this– Nonono, not that!”

Diego looked over to find what had Klaus so riled up and panicky. He was thrilled to find that the source of his brother’s fears were Allison’s long, pristine yellow nails that she was hovering dangerously over his bare sides.

“Looks like your crop top backfired this time, bro,” Diego chuckled, giving him a warning prod at his ribs, which Klaus shrieked at.

Allison considered this. “Or maybe he’s exactly where he wants to be.” Then she grinned at Klaus. “Any last words?”

“Yes, I’d like to exact my right to filibuster–”

The moment Allison’s nails touched down on his sides, he was gone; he threw his head back and laughed his heart out. Her technique was gentle and slow– yet unrelenting, following Klaus’s desperate twisting with ease.

“I didn’t know you’d like my nails so much!” she taunted. Klaus responded with a loud snort when she dragged her nails over where his sides met his lower back and tickled there. “Oh my god– Diego, you gotta look at him.”

Diego left his position from behind their victim, where he had been pinching his upper ribs, to see what she was talking about.

“Oh my god. You’re blushing?”

Klaus, still laughing, shook his head. It was too late, however, as it was very clear to everyone that his ears and cheeks were a glaring pink that only grew darker with the attention.

“He definitely is.”

“Shuhut the hell uhup!” Klaus insisted. “You’re so meaheahean!”

“Ooo.” Diego clucked and shook his head. “And we were even thinking of letting you off easy.” He considered it, and then decided to go for the kill. “Say, Allison, I think you could put those nails of yours to good use right...here.” He gave Klaus’s belly a poke.

The reaction from both was immediate. Allison’s eyes filled with a maniacal energy that neither of them had ever seen before; she flexed her fingers at Klaus in warning, letting that one action do all of the talking for her.

Klaus, on the other hand, was begging, as if for his life. He thrashed in his bonds, tried to back up as much as possible with his legs, but one push from Diego behind him brought him right back to square one.

“Nonononono, Allison, wait, don’t– wait! Ahallison, this isn’t fair! Do you want a new skirt, I can do that! I just need some time– AAH!”

He couldn’t have been more vulnerable to her every move. Her long nails touched down on the soft skin of his belly and dragged themselves up to his ribs, then all the way back down and around. Allison looked very proud of herself indeed when she discovered that spidering her nails into his belly had Klaus caught between hiccuping, snorting (which he seemed to get bashful about, because he turned a new shade of pink every time he did so), and cackling hysterically.

Diego, meanwhile, had found a home at that horrible, awful spot under his arms just above the tops of his ribs, and dug into it with vigor. Klaus’s writhing was sometimes so vehement that he had to duck out of the way, but he always came back to it because he knew how much it wrecked his poor brother.

After some time, they gave him a break.

“So,” Allison prompted, “are you sorry?”

Klaus, to his credit, recovered faster than expected, and after a minute was able to respond, “You know I can’t apologize for art.”

Allison quirked an eyebrow at him. “Would you like to apologize for breaking and entering?”

Klaus considered this. “Well, really, you never close your door, so in a way, it’s kind of your fault!”

Diego scoffed. “You’re really asking for it this time, huh?”

“I’m just saying, I think she should be okay with sharing if she’s not even gonna shut her door all the way!”

Allison was finished listening, however. She put an arm around Klaus’s waist; her oversensitive brother jumped, and was already biting back a smile as she effectively kept him from wriggling away.

“That was the wrong answer,” she said. Then, with just her pointer finger, she started drawing maddening little circles around his navel, occasionally moving to tickle inside of it before returning to the outer edge.

Klaus pretty much went ballistic at this, writhing so much in her grasp that Diego had to step in and attempt to keep him still while she continued.

“Oh my god,” Allison laughed. “You are actually the most ticklish person on the entire planet.”

“Nohohoho!” Klaus wailed. “Dohon’t! Stohohop it!”

“Don’t stop?” Diego teased, and gave his sides a few squeezes where he was holding him still.

“Pleaheahease!”

“Please don’t stop,” Allison corrected. “Good to see he’s finally learning some manners, at least.” With her free hand, she spidered her nails on the underside of his belly, at the oversensitive strip of skin between his hips; she and Diego both laughed at the full-body thrash Klaus did that looked like more like a weird dance move than anything else.

“Okay! Okay!” Klaus cried. “I’m– I’m sahaharry!”

His sister only continued, putting on a faux-confused look. “I don’t think I know that word. Do you, Diego?”

“Can’t say I do.”

Klaus shook his head wildly. “Nahahaa! I cahan’t! I can’t! I cahahan’t!”

At long last, the two relented.

“So, what was that you said before, Klaus?” Allison prompted.

Klaus panted, still giggling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I swear I’m sorry!”

“Damn,” Diego chuckled. “I think you actually broke him. I’ve never heard him apologize before.”

Allison made a show of blowing on her nails. “These bad boys never fail.”

Diego checked on their victim, who seemed to be loopy with unending giggles. “You alright there, man?”

“That...was wild.”

“Oh!” Allison jumped up. “I just remembered one other thing that drove him wild when we were kids.”

Without so much as a warning, Allison blew a big, silly raspberry into Klaus’s ribs. Klaus snorted and shrieked and kicked his legs, and then it was over.

Allison pulled a remote control from her jacket pocket and pressed a button; the cuffs released Klaus, who would have collapsed on the floor if not for Diego standing by to catch him and help ease him to lie down on the bed.

“You had that the entire time?” Klaus demanded, though it wasn’t a very serious inquiry with his absurd smile.

She shrugged. “Of course I did. I just needed to remind you who’s in charge here.”

Klaus swore and fell back on the bed. He couldn’t wait to see if he could find anything else in Allison’s closet in a few days.

#tua #mine #klaus #ticklish!klaus #diego #allison #2 #3 #4

[foxghost]

Joyful Reunion, Chapter 20

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 1, Chapter 6 (part 1)

“In the whole wide world, is there seriously no one who can kill Li Jianhong?”

Mu Kuangda lets out a long, long sigh, with the masked Chang Liujun standing behind him.

The great general Zhao Kui is standing across from Mu Kuangda. Zhao Kui is dressed like a literati scholar today, and he’s in the study practising calligraphy. Wu Du, standing at his side, does not speak a word.

“It’s not that they can’t kill him,” Zhao Kui replies, “It’s that they’re not permitted to kill him. Wu Du, Chang Liujun, Zheng Yan, as well as that Nameless One are all bound by the Zhenshanhe. As long as that sword is in Li Jianhong’s hands, then they cannot raise arms against him.”

Zhao Kui’s calligraphy is robust and decisive, each stroke spilling onto the paper like a rainstorm wrapping around countless blades.

“Since Nayantuo died,” Zhao Kuai says in a low tone, “it’s been difficult to find another who can rival Li Jianhong.”

“No matter how strong he is, he’s only human,” Mu Kuangda postulates, “And if he’s human, he has weaknesses. If he has a plan for everything and believes everything is going according to his plan, then there has to be some variable in those plans.”

Zhao Kui says, “Perhaps the Nameless One is his variable. That man first betrayed his teacher, then massacred his entire school — even now there’s been no explanation as to why. I already had him tracked down based on what Wu Du told me. He’s from the end of the Xianbei mountain range, and when Li Jianhong went on the run he also stayed there for a short while.”

Mu Kuangda brings a teacup to his lips, and after taking one sip he turns to look outside at the gallery. “I’m quite at the end of my rope when it comes to him — I can only leave it in your hands, General.”

“Aside from that, I remember there is someone still,” Zhao Kui puts down his brush, “who may be able to fight against Li Jianhong.”

Zhao Kui turns to Mu Kuangda. “But I’m in no position to hire him, so I can only leave it in your hands, Chancellor.”

Mu Kuangda looks pensive, but says nothing.

“When Master Wangbei was heavily wounded by Nayantuo, he passed the Duanchenyuan to Kongming.” Zhao Kui continues, “Master Wangbei had another disciple junior to Kongming who studied Buddhism without shaving his head. Later, he betrayed his sect and took Duanchenyuan with him.”

“Well we can’t count on Wu Du or Chang Liujun.” Zhao Kui heaves a sigh. “To them it’s permissible to kill anyone under the sun aside from Li Jianhong; he is the only exception”

“As for the Nameless One, he must be coming here on an important mission. The Mongolians have declared war on Liao; if things proceed as I expect them to, in a few months when war breaks out all over the place, Li Jianhong will definitely show himself.”

For a long time, Mu Kuangda stays silent, not saying a word.

The Mongolians are marching south and their advance party has already captured Huchang. From the bureaucracy to the common folk, the Liao populace are thus alarmed. Refugees swarm toward Shangjing. By the fifteenth of the sixth month, there were already near thirty-thousand people gathered outside the capital of Shangjing. Li Jianhong takes the highways with Duan Ling on horseback all the way to the city gates.

“Who’s there?!” The guard at the gate says, “Show your documents! We need to search you!”

Li Jianhong turns the horse’s head and whistles toward the top of the city walls. Cai Wen, charged with the city’s defence, spots them, and sends someone down to open a side door, letting the two of them in.

“Thank him,” Li Jianhong tells Duan Ling. From his perch on horseback Duan Ling cups one hand in another at Cai Wei, and Cai Wen returns the salute. Presumably, he’s too busy with work to come ask the two of them when they left the city and what business they had outside.

Though it’s only been a scant few days since they’ve been gone, by the time they get home, Duan Ling feels as though a lifetime had gone by. Since the moment he stepped out of the house that night to rescue Batu, he had involuntarily stepped onto an epic, momentous path — in a single night he has become part of the Southern Chen imperial clan, his father has somehow turned out to be the foremost warrior of the border, the Han god of war … and now with the sudden change in Southern Chen’s situation, Li Jianhong had no other option but to wander far from home, and the two of them must depend on no one else but each other.

After coming upon such a radical change to his life, everything that has happened before now feels unfamiliar. Lang Junxia’s secrecy, his father’s arrival — all of it has an explanation now

There is much you must accomplish in the future.

A lot of what he didn’t understand before, all at once he understands entirely.

In the corridor he sits beneath the eaves, staring blankly into the courtyard.

“Dad.”

“Hey, son.” On the other hand, Li Jianhong is acting the same as he ever was as he waters Duan Ling’s flowerbed with a water pot.

Duan Ling doesn’t say anything. Once Li Jianhong finishes watering the plants, he draws more water from the well, gets the rice steaming, and cuts up a fish next to the well as he makes a meal for Duan Ling.

This startling change has come too rapidly and too suddenly; Duan Ling has no idea what he should be doing with himself. He stares at Li Jianhong’s back, feeling as though the man Master Kongming, Lang Junxia, and the Madam of Viburnum knows of is somehow not the same one as his father. It’s just like a dream.

While Li Jianhong is shaving off fish scales he even takes the time to look back at Duan Ling. “Hungry? Food will be ready soon. Half an hour.”

“Dad,” Duan Ling says, “what should I be doing right now?”

Li Jianhong looks at him blankly for a heartbeat, then he starts to smile. He carries the fish into the kitchen, and Duan Ling chases after him, watching Li Jianhong from behind as he heats up the oil in the wok.

“You can do whatever you want,” Li Jianhong offers casually, “All those old grievances are your dad’s problems. In no way are they your fetters.”

“Your problems are my problems. What does a prince have to do?”

Li Jianhong makes Duan Ling step back a bit, and stands between him and the wok so the sputtering oil won’t splash onto him. He slides the fish down into the oil by the wok’s edge, and with a light splutter a mouthwatering fragrance fills the air.

“Your fourth uncle doesn’t have an heir yet,” Li Jianhong says offhandedly, “Even if he does, the future throne of Southern Chen is still going to be yours. You’re not a prince. You’re the emperor.”

Duan Ling stares at him speechlessly.

Liu Jianhong taps the edge of the wok with the back of his hand, and the pan-fried fish spins in the wok. Then Li Jianhong flicks it with a finger and jolts the fish into a flip. Now the golden side is facing up as it sizzles in the oil.

“When you study, you’re learning how to be an emperor.” Li Jianhong says with a smile, “it’ll save you from running around like a chicken with its head cut off when you take the throne. Do you remember what the great ancestor said?”

“Governing a large country …” Duan Ling is staring the fish inside the wok, “is like simmering a side dish.”2

“Exactly.” Li Jianhong says in deadly earnestness, “Looks like studying is useful after all.”

“But I don’t know how to do anything.”

Li Jianhong adds half a ladle of water, tosses in green onions, ginger, garlic, and throws a lid on it. He wipes his hands. “If you don’t know then learn. Your majesty, grab a bowl, it’s time to eat!”

Li Jianhong picks up Duan Ling sideways and drops him off outside the main hall. Duan Ling goes to set the table.

“When you have free time you can think about what you want to do once you become the emperor,” Li Jianhong says this to Duan Ling seriously during dinner.

Duan Ling nods, nonplussed. Li Jianhong bids him, “Before everything is done and dusted, just think about it to yourself — no need to tell anyone lest they get jealous. After all, of most everyone, nine out of ten of them can’t become an emperor.”

Duan Ling bursts out laughing. Sure, that’s true, but it just feels like such a remote thing. That night, Li Jianhong sits in the corridor beneath the eaves, arms wrapped around his knees as he watches the stars, while Duan Ling does some reading in preparation for the fast approaching exam. Little by little, he falls asleep while sprawled on the desk. Li Jianhong picks him up carefully, brings him back inside, and the two fall asleep on the same bed.

“A scholar mustn’t be anything but firm and persistent …”

The weather grows gradually hotter. Duan Ling recites the words of Zengzi3, and he cannot help himself from glancing at Li Jianhong, who’s reading a book next to him.

Li Jianhong cuts in sedately, “… for his responsibilities are great and his road is long.”

“For his responsibilities are great and his road is long.” Duan Ling recites along.

His head is full of questions. His father is all by himself, and the only person he can order around is Lang Junxia. Southern Chen has hundreds of thousands of soldiers and its territories are vast. With nothing but his identity as an imperial kin, how is he supposed to take it all back?

“Dad,” Duan Ling asks, “do you know Yelü Dashi?”

“I know him. He’s always pretending he doesn’t know me.”

Duan Ling looks at him questioningly.

Li Jianhong derides, “It’s for the same reason why when one person beats up another, the one who got beat up always tries to avoid him.”

Duan Ling stares at him silently for a bit. “Then will he come after you?” He has been thinking a lot in the past little while, and he realises that his father’s identity is rather sensitive. Once he’s on his own, his enemies will probably come calling.

“He won’t. We used to be his enemy, but not anymore. Yelü Dashi is an extraordinarily cunning man, and he’s always trimmed his sails with the wind. And besides, he has no idea I’m here.”

“Then what do we do about the south?”

“I’ve been considering that lately.” Li Jianhong thinks quietly to himself for a moment before saying, “Basically I just have to borrow troops, make alliances, cozy up to Liao, and resist the Mongolians. If Yelü Dashi would lend me ten thousand men it’d be a cinch to take down Zhao Kui.”

“Would he lend you troops?”

“Now that’s something worth thinking about, and that’s exactly what I’ve been thinking about. How do I give him a reason that he has no choice but to accept. I was talking to Batu’s dad that day about this very arrangement. I told him to deploy his troops to Yubiguan, that way Southern Chen’s army can’t make it up here, and Shangjing will have no choice but to ask for reinforcements from the southwest road.”

“And just like with Batu, leave me here as a hostage …”

“No way.” Li Jianhong’s expression darkens, and his tone turns sombre and cold. “You cannot say that again. In your eyes, is that the kind of man your dad is?”

Duan Ling can only nod then to indicate that he won’t say it again, and sneaking glances at Li Jianhong soon afterwards, he finds him looking a little bit angry. So he goes over and tries to smooth things out. Li Jianhong turns around and folds Duan Ling to himself with one arm. He says simply, “Yelü Dashi must not be allowed to find out who you are.”

Duan Ling hums in agreement. Li Jianhong says, “If anything changes, dad will discuss it with you. You don’t have to worry about these things.”

Duan Ling nods, and leans back in Li Jianhong’s lap to read and prepare for his exams, while Li Jianhong stares intently at a yellowed old map on the desk. On the map is the vast territory of the north, stretching south past Yubiguan all the way down to the Huai River, and it has a massive character written on it — Liao.

For days on end, Li Jianhong is pondering over this, while the day of Duan LIng’s examinations fast approaches. Speaking of which, oddly enough Duan Ling feels as though he’s grown up overnight; he seems to no longer care about all the other things he was so fond of doing before, and no longer clamours about wanting to go play. His life seems to have more important things in it, waiting for him.

This must be fate, isn’t it? He’s beginning to develop another sort of new, and intense sentiment about his father — his worship of his father has gone from a formless idea to a feeling that even though his father is his, he’s also responsible for many other people, a responsibility that cannot be shirked. Perhaps this is exactly what the headmaster meant when he spoke of benevolent rule. And this way of the benevolent rule belongs to both Duan Ling and his father.

Little by little, he begins to avoid bothering Li Jianhong, trying his best not to interrupt when Li Jianhong spends long periods of time lost in thought. Summer is here, and the call of cicadas is a constant thing; Shangjing’s summer days are dry and cool, with a fresh scent that lingers.

Today, Duan Ling walks through the corridor with a bundle over his shoulder, and turning towards the parlour where Li Jianhong is having tea, he says, “Dad, I’m heading to the entrance exam.”

Li Jianhong watches him from the parlour, his gaze is remarkably complicated but filled with a sense of warmth.

“You’ve grown,” Li Jianhong says.

Standing in the brightly-lit courtyard, Duan Ling bathes in the rays of the summer sun. He should be glad, but he doesn’t know why when he hears his father say that it makes him feel a little bit sad.

“But dad likes the way you are right now very much.” Li Jianhong rises with a smile. “Let’s go.”

Duan Ling wasn’t going to let Li Jianhong waste any energy on him, but Li Jianhong has never forgotten. Everything is already packed, waiting near at hand. He sets down the teacup now and picks up the bundle, to head to Biyong College with Duan Ling for his exams.

This is the first time Duan Ling has ever taken an exam, and above all else he feels a bit nervous. But Li Jianhong is telling him, “Don’t worry. If you don’t get in, then all dad has to do is spend some money to get you in for fun.”

Duan Ling starts to laugh, and that nervousness feels lighter. Biyong College is already overflowing with students coming here to take the exam, noisily talking amongst each other. Li Jianhong finds a seat and makes him sit down. Then he says quietly, “Dad will wait for you on that tree outside.”

A heartbeat of silence passes before Duan Ling says, “You should go home.” He’s feeling rather embarrassed, though the inside of Biyong College is quite crowded and no one has taken notice of them.

Li Jianhong sets the table for him with paper and brush. “You’ll have the opportunity to handle many grand occasions yet. Just write whatever you feel like. You don’t need to prove yourself with this sheet of paper. Dad believes in you. No need to take this too seriously.”

Duan Ling suddenly understands what Li Jianhong means and nods back at him. Mastering the literary and martial skills is for the sake of benefiting the imperial family, and since he is part of the imperial family, what’s there for him to worry about? What Li Jianhong probably means is that he needn’t put in too much effort, lest he stands out and draws too much attention to himself.

Li Jianhong gives Duan Ling a thumbs up, then he turns, and goes outside.

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

From Laozi’s Tao Te Ching. ↩︎

Zenzi was a student of Confucius. ↩︎

#queued #相見歡 #fei tian ye xiang #joyful reunion #xiang jian huan #fox translates things

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 2.2}

*Severus Snape x OC*

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

General warnings: professor x student (however no underage romance), blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.2k

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

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Robin ended up in front of his office even before breakfast was over. She hadn't been in the mood for sitting with anyone, and stuffing her face with enough toast and tea to last the day had taken no more than ten minutes. Thus she stood frozen in front of the wooden door with a deep frown, wondering if he was the kind of person who got mad over people being too early. He probably was… thus she sat down on the ground, leaning against the wall across from the door to wait another ten or fifteen minutes. Since he had so kindly let her know the previous night that she wouldn't be out of detention quite possibly until after dinner, she had actually put on a thick turtleneck jumper over her usual long sleeves. The dungeons were quite cold, especially now that it was nearing December, and even though she loved the place more than quite possibly any other inside the castle, she didn't want to be chilly the entire day. She frowned to herself suddenly, as the idea entered her mind that Professor Snape might be wearing so many layers of fabric all the time because he was down here all day, every day. He must feel quite cold in winter… Robin wondered if he preferred cold weather to warm weather just like she did, too.

"When will you learn to just knock?"

Robin startled at the all too familiar voice, and had to put her head all the way back into her neck to look up at him while seated on the ground like this. "Professor Snape! I… I didn't hear you coming…"

"Obviously." He sighed. "Get up, we have a lot of work to do."

Robin did as she was told and followed him into the office, still feeling incredibly small next to him even though she was standing straight now. Had she always been this short…? Well, duh… obviously. Robin cringed inwardly as she realized that she was picking up on his speech patterns now as well. Then again, it happened with everyone she actually wanted to get along with, no matter if peers, teachers or strangers.

"What exactly is it that one does in detention, sir?" She asked then, to give herself a change of topic as well.

He let out a small snort in return, then cleared his throat in a vain attempt to cover up for it somehow. "This isn't detention, Miss Mitchell."

"But you said-"

"And now I say that it is not." He glared at her for a moment, then pointed her towards her usual chair. "If someone ends up asking about it however, it very much is."

"So detention is our cover story." Robin concluded as she sat down and watched with surprise as he for once got his own chair out from behind his desk to place it directly across from hers, without the table in the way. "But for what exactly?"

"You came to me with a solution for your own problem already at hand last night, and while your means may have turned out to be unsuitable for the purpose, I intend to supply you with a more appropriate one. Do you understand?"

Damn, why did he always have to say things in the most complicated way possible?! Let's see… she had come with a solution… ah! "So… you're saying that you liked my idea to find some kind of thing that would counteract his spell?"

"I wouldn't quite go as far as to say 'liked', but generally, yes."

"And since you said there is no book or potion that can help me… we're talking about an act here?"

"No. We are talking about occlumency." His voice was harsh, and Robin immediately felt like she had done something wrong. However seeing as her face fell, his tone strayed back into neutral territory. "I will try to teach you to resist the external penetration of the mind. A day does not nearly suffice to learn, leave alone master this rare and difficult skill, but seeing as Professor Morgan isn't the most… accomplished wizard, maybe the basics will do for now."

Robin's eyes widened in honest surprise, astonishment and an overwhelming gratitude she couldn't even begin to express. A chance was all she could've hoped for, and here he was giving fuel to that hope. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me. It is hard work to learn, and it certainly is going to be painful." He grumbled, but Robin didn't care. "It is nothing a second year student should even consider knowing about."

"And yet here we are…" Robin replied under her breath, but Snape ignored her and sat up straighter while keeping his gaze solely on her own.

"I understand your issues to lie with Professor Morgan rather than the magic itself, is that correct?" Once Robin nodded with an admittedly insecure frown, he continued. "In order to learn the art of occlumency, I will have to break into your mind, and you will try to resist. Do you understand that this is a serious invasion of your privacy?"

"Yes." She said, a little croaked, while trying to swallow down the lump in her throat. There was nothing she had to hide that he didn't already know about, really, there was no reason to be nervous. Only stupid childhood memories, fear and anxiety. Surely nothing he hadn't seen in other students before.

"Would you still like to proceed?"

"Yes." This time her reply came with more determination, and it indeed mirrored her sentiment. He was asking her permission for this, even though she had already once said that she wanted his help. He might not seem like the nicest or most trustworthy person to anyone else in the school or on the entire planet even, but if Robin trusted anyone in that moment, it was Severus Snape. "I want to learn this, professor, really. So just go ahead."

Without wasting any more time, he obviously quite gladly ignored the entire previous conversation and went straight into the topic. "I want you to clear your mind of every thought, every emotion, every memory. Keep your mind clear at all times, and do not. lose. focus." Once Robin nodded, he continued. "Closing your eyes should make it easier for a start. A direct gaze will make it easier for your opponent to enter your mind." Again, Robin nodded and closed her eyes like she had been instructed. "Prepare yourself, Miss Mitchell. This is not going to be pleasant."

Robin focused on keeping her mind blank, but how does one go about thinking not to think?! Was that even possible? Did it-

A startled gasp escaped her lips at the highly unpleasant, if not straight out torturous feeling of someone stabbing her conscience with a million needles, digging deeper and deeper into her brain. She let out a small cry, fingernails digging into the arms of her chair while her eyes remained squeezed shut in agony. In an instant the feeling was gone, leaving her breathless and confused.

"I told you it was painful." He said almost a little apologetically, but then his voice and expression shifted back to scolding. "And I told you to focus! Not to wail in fear and think about the nature of thinking!"

"Yes, sir…"

"Emotions are a weakness, a backdoor for people to use and manipulate you. Allow them to see your weakness and they will use it against you until your very demise. Protect your emotions. Shut them off." He explained entirely factually, before turning into command mode again. "Try again. And please, if that is not entirely impossible for you, focus!"

With a small nod Robin closed her eyes once more and took a deep breath. He was right, of course he was… she had to shut it all off. She had to try again. And again. And again.

… … …

They had been at it for hours already, and Robin hadn't gotten the least bit closer to accomplishing anything at all. She however did know now why Professor Snape had been so very insistent on her getting rest… this entire thing was beyond exhausting, and had she not been so very insistent on both learning the skill and not disappointing him, she would've given up before lunchtime.

Now however, an hour after dinner would've ended, she was still at it, and still trying to learn anything at all about bloody occlumency. Snape was scolding her half of the time and trying not to smack her the other half, and Robin could tell that he was growing increasingly impatient with her. Honestly, she couldn't even blame him for it. Her emotions and thoughts were all over the place, and the more worried she got about upsetting him, the worse she did in keeping him out of her mind. If he saw any of her worries and insecurities, he did remarkably well at not showing any reaction to it though.

"Come on, Mitchell! Are you even trying to resist?!" He snapped at her then, once again drawing her out of her thoughts.

"I am trying, sir!" Robin almost whined, fighting the tears in her eyes as she replied. "But the harder I try, the more difficult it gets…" It really was bloody ironic to think that the more she tried to suppress her emotions, the more desperately they came spilling out indeed. What the hell was she doing wrong?!

"I've seen muggles do better at this than you do…" He muttered more to himself than to her, fiddling with his sleeves in obvious frustration, and Robin thought she had never seen someone so young looking so old before. And it all was only her fault.

"I'm sorry…" She breathed as she looked down at her hands in her lap, still fighting the tears in her eyes in vain. He really didn't need to see even more of her being pathetically emotional.

"Don't be sorry. Be better." He replied in a surprisingly quiet voice that held no more scolding than Robin's did, and as twisted as it was, she knew that he was trying to encourage her. In his own weird way.

"I will." Robin said then, nodding her head to herself as if to make herself believe her own words. "Just… give me two minutes."

She needed reason, logic, a line to stand on to work from there. Reason… he certainly wouldn't tell her to be better if he didn't deem her capable of it. If he truly believed her to be as big of a dunderhead as he said he did, why would he still be here with her? Why would he spend his precious time on a goddamn weekend to teach her a skill she only needed because she was scared of another professor? He really must believe that she could do it. Maybe… it was time she started believing it for herself as well.

He had told her this morning to shut off her emotions, but her emotions had always run deeper than her mind's command. She couldn't simply shut them off, they were far too powerful for that. But she could do what she always did when they became too much: build a wall between her emotions and her reason. Separate her active mind from its core. That only left her mind to stay clear of superficial feelings and thoughts.

Feeling nothing, on the surface, was like feeling numb, wasn't it? And numbness she had a lot of experience with indeed. So instead of trying to feel nothing on the outside, to suppress what she did feel, Robin focused on the feeling of numbness she had grown more accustomed to ever since the start of term. Numbness was facts. Numbness was functioning without emotions

"Ready." She said, then released a slow and deliberate breath while closing her eyes, and waited for the needles in her brain to make her scream. But all she felt was a little prickle in the back of her head.

Mildly irritated, she opened her eyes to see if maybe he had stopped trying in the first place, but she only was met with the same intense gaze she had seen so many times before. The needles in her mind stung a little harder as she kept her eyes wide open, and she could tell that he saw her irritation. The question why it didn't hurt. Before she could help herself, she thought a quiet 'hello', even if only to test if it would work. The prickle in her mind stopped immediately, but Snape kept staring at her in surprise now.

"Was that… better?" Robin asked wearily as she dropped her internal wall, and the concern came right back. It hadn't hurt as much as before… but maybe she was growing numb to the pain too, and he would finally give up on her now.

"What did you do?" He asked in return, without answering her question in the first place.

"Uh, it's… I-I disconnected my brain from my emotions?" That sounded more like a suggestion than an answer, and thus she went on. "It's, uh… it's what I do when I feel too much, or when I don't want people to see how I truly feel. I know you said to shut off my emotions, and I really tried all day to do just that, but no matter what I did, I just… couldn't. So I tried it in my own way for once. If it didn't work, I'll stop, just tell me-"

"Do it again."

Robin barely had time to repeat her process of consciously disconnecting her actively processing brain from her emotions, memories and everything that made up her personality, before she felt the needles in her mind again. Or more precisely, a faint tingling in her brain. It wasn't all too unpleasant though, only little more than the very mild headache she got from focusing on keeping her wall up anyway, and thus Robin simply looked back at Professor Snape in the same manner as he was looking at her.

"Try thinking of an imagined scenario." He commanded then, focused but not menacing, and Robin followed his order immediately.

She thought of herself leaving the office, and walking up the spiral staircase, down the hallway past the many doors and towards the kitchen. She didn't really know what it looked like in there, so she made up a kitchen in her head, and how she snagged a piece of chocolate cake from a fridge. Then she dropped the scenario and focused back on the outside world, letting him see that she wondered what he was thinking now. The tingling in her mind stopped, but Robin found it difficult to shut off her numbness quite yet, so she simply stared at Snape while waiting for him to speak up first. He seemed to be doing the same however, and for a few minutes they both stared at each other in complete silence.

"Did you seriously have to imagine stealing chocolate cake?" He finally asked. "Or was that a memory?"

"I was feeling hungry. And I don't even know what the kitchen here looks like."

"Curious."

"Why?"

"Because I have known the real kitchens for a long time and yet did not doubt yours to be equally real."

"Is that good?"

"That would depend on the point of view. If one does consider your apparent talent for the subject to be 'good', then yes, that is good."

Robin's heart skipped a beat, and slowly her mind pieced itself back together in its normal ways. "I… I have a talent for it now?! You said literally five minutes ago that I was the biggest failure you had ever seen!"

Snape rolled his eyes and gave her a glare in feigned annoyance. "That was before you suddenly developed the ability to perfectly shield off entire parts of your mind!"

Robin's eyes widened at that and she found herself rather incredulous of what he was saying. "I actually shut you out completely?!"

"That you did."

"Wow…" She frowned to herself at first, then at him. "I don't know if that is even possible, but couldn't you simply try harder?"

Professor Snape scoffed at her remark, and rolled his eyes yet again. "Believe me, Miss Mitchell, what you did right there is all you will need to shut Professor Morgan out entirely."

"But…" Robin started, and only as he rose an eyebrow in question she allowed herself to continue. "I would like to know the limit of what you call 'talent'. Consider it practice, if you will. I just can't imagine that I could keep you out if you really tried to get into my mind, you know… I've only been able to do it twice, and you said it's a difficult skill to learn. I just can't imagine that I would be any good at it now, after a mere day of failing almost the entire time."

"Pride didn't suit you, Mitchell, but neither does exaggerated humbleness. But if you wish to test the limits, we will. It should be good practice indeed." With that he motioned for her to get ready, and sat up pin-straight.

The more Robin did this process of disconnection, consciously now instead of just by chance, the easier it became to do. More so than before, she focused on making her mind a mere mirror, a blank reflecting surface, before she looked Snape right back in the eye and nodded once. The feeling that followed was already a lot more intense, and Robin tensed up in return, which only worsened the unpleasant feeling inside her head.

"Relax, but focus." He reminded her as well, and Robin tried to consciously drop all stress from her body and mind. It lessened the discomfort for a moment, but he was quick to counter and soon Robin had to close her eyes to keep her barrier intact. It continued for roughly a minute, before finally she relented in both mental and physical exhaustion, causing him to come crashing into her brain like a bullet through rotten wood. The very moment he crossed her breaking point however, he stopped in an instant.

"Was that any good? Or did you not have to try at all?" Robin asked after a minute of silence, breathing a little more heavily than she would like in order to calm her heart and mind back down.

"Some would even say remarkably good." He mused, before he got up at last and moved his chair back to its rightful spot behind the desk. "I almost had to make an actual effort."

Robin scoffed, rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smirking nonetheless at his antics. "So you really think I'm good enough to keep Morgan out of my head?"

"Certainly." He sat back down, and folded his hands on the desk.

"Thank you." Robin gave him a smile, even if an exhausted one. "Really, I… You looked into my head, I'm sure you know how grateful I am."

"In fact, I do. Otherwise I would hardly have put up with you all day." He said absolutely neutrally, but upon Robin's slightly indignant look, the barely-even-there smirk just wouldn't stay off his face.

"I thought you did because you can't stand Professor Morgan either." She mused innocently, biting her bottom lip while her eyebrows rose. If he messed with her, she felt prone to return the favor.

The hard expression was back on his face in a second however, making it clear that the joking was over. "Do not believe for a moment that you know me or my intentions, Mitchell. I am obliged to take care of my students, however I would strongly advise you not to confuse my professional actions for my personal interests."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to appear disrespectful." Robin apologized immediately, even if she didn't entirely believe his words. He didn't seem to believe them either, but it was one of the many things Robin knew better than to address by now. It was none of her business, after all. "Anyway, I'm very grateful for your help."

"Officially this never happened, Miss Mitchell, and you have never heard a word about occlumency."

"Of course. I had an absolutely dreadful day in detention today, counting beetle eyes and unicorn hairs, should anyone ask." Robin lied with an innocent smile. "And you scolded me the entire time for not paying enough attention."

"Good." The underlying amusement returned to his face, and Robin felt pleased with herself immediately. Somehow, she preferred to see him happy, or as close as he could get to that anyway.

"Still, thank you for today's 'detention'."

"You had the idea, made the plan and sought a course to action by yourself. And as it turned out, you also discovered your own way to acquire a new skill by yourself." He raised an eyebrow at her in mock-confusion. "I had absolutely no part in this."

"Of course not, sir." Robin bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from smiling. "I promise."

"Indeed, I merely caused you pain and made you forego dinner." With an almost bored looking expression, he got out a piece of parchment and wrote down something in that spidery cursive Robin actually quite enjoyed looking at by now. It had an oddly pleasant aesthetic, and just enough sense of familiarity to be comforting. Then he folded the paper three times and handed it to her. "You should find out what the kitchens look like. Ask the house elves to make you whatever you would like."

"But sir, it's two hours past curfew…"

"Hence the note. Whoever tries to stop you will have to answer to me from now on. I do not wish to be bothered every time you happen to be out past curfew."

"Thank you, sir." Robin finally had to smile again. "Would you… like anything from the kitchens?"

"Don't try to be kind to me, Miss Mitchell, it's not worth your efforts." He replied surprisingly coldly, and picked up another empty piece of parchment. "That would be all."

"Well, I'm sure you will hear about tomorrow's outcomes before I get to tell you myself…" Robin's smile reduced to a crooked one. "Whatever happens, I will deny that you had any part in it."

"Hmm."

"Goodnight, professor."

"Good luck, Miss Mitchell."

With a small but sincere smile, Robin closed the office door behind herself and breathed in the cool air of the hallway. Well, who knew that detention could last well over twelve hours? But then again, it never had been detention in the first place. It had been something much more valuable. When this morning she had been but a bloody damsel in distress, she now was fairly decent at the basics of occlumency. One couldn't really expect more of a day's worth of practice.

With an almost happy sigh, Robin made her way up the staircase and down the hallways. Walking around the dark castle after curfew was way more fun than she had expected, especially considering that she had even been explicitly told to do so. It really was odd… whenever she knew Professor Snape to be on her side, there was barely anything that could stop her. He might not see it like that in return, but Robin considered him to be her biggest ally. Her only ally, actually, but a great one nonetheless. She only wished that there was anything she could help him with in return, for once.

Just as she rounded the next corner and crossed into the kitchens' hallway, she almost literally ran into Professor McGonagall. Who else would be patrolling tonight, huh? It wasn't really that Robin didn't like the transfiguration professor, but ever since the incidents of last March, there had been a mutual distrust between them, an air of unease and insecurity at least on Robin's part. She couldn't tell if the professor liked or despised her at all.

"Miss Mitchell! Why am I not at all surprised to see you wandering the corridors past curfew yet again?" The professor sighed, and put her hands on her hips in resignation. "What is your excuse this time?"

"Detention." Robin shrugged, and handed her professor the folded piece of parchment without another word.

McGonagall shot her a frowning glance, then read over the note in silence while her lips however formed the words as she read nonetheless. Robin still didn't understand a word, but it made her curious. Only once her professor had reached the end of the note, she looked at Robin with wide eyes, then at the note, back at Robin, and finally folded the paper and handed it back to Robin with a strange look on her face. Without another word, she stepped around Robin and continued her patrol without wasting another word on her or the incident.

Robin looked at the note in her hand with a frown, then over her shoulder, at the professor slowly vanishing in the distant darkness, and back down the hallway to the kitchen. Odd… but she was still in need of something to eat, and thus she made her way into the kitchen at last. It was nothing like she had imagined it to look like, not worse nor better though. A little more crowded with house elves, perhaps, but also very nice for a functional room almost nobody ever got to see.

"How may we help you, Miss?" One of them asked as soon as Robin closed the door behind herself quietly and stepped further into the large room.

"Uh, good evening." Robin gave them a small smile, which they reluctantly returned. "I was told I could find something to eat up here."

"Oh, certainly, Miss!" Came the immediate reply. "What would you like to have?"

"Do you have chocolate cake?" Robin asked with a hopeful expression on her face, and the house elves seemed fairly amused at her question, however not in a condescending kind of way.

"Certainly, Miss. Is that what you would like to have?"

"Yes, please. That would be very kind of you." She gave them another smile, and some of them giggled self-consciously in return.

"May I ask you a question, Miss?" A female elf asked, while a general commotion arose all throughout the kitchen.

"Of course!"

"What makes you come here so late in the evening? We rarely have students coming to the kitchen, leave alone at this time of night!" The elf asked curiously, and one of her peers nudged her in the side in return, but she kept looking up at Robin.

"Oh, you see, I was with Professor Snape until now. In detention, I mean." She shrugged, and sat down on one of the tiny chairs while waiting for her sweet dinner to be prepared. She actually felt quite guilty for just waiting around… "Is there anything I can do to, uh, help you? Or… do anything for you in return?"

"No, Miss, it's our pleasure to serve you."

"If you say so…" Robin sighed reluctantly, and waited for the remainder of the preparations in silence. When at last a small but beautiful chocolate cake was placed in front of her, her eyes lit up in immediate excitement. "Thank you so much, it's just perfect!"

And while the house elves giggled or grumbled once more and went to clean up after themselves, Robin happily cut off and dug into a piece of her cake. She had about three quarters of it (seeing as it really was a fairly small cake) before she felt filled up at last, and absolutely ready to just fall into bed. However she also couldn't really resist the idea that plopped into her head, and smiled to herself as she turned to one of the house elves once more. "Excuse me, is it true that you can teleport anything in Hogwarts from one place to another?"

"Yes, Miss! It's how we serve your meals every day."

"So… If I politely asked you to send this piece of chocolate cake to Professor Snape, could you do that for me?"

"Certainly! Is that what you would like, Miss?"

"I would like that very much indeed." Robin grinned, and with a snap of the elf's fingers, the cake disappeared right in front of her eyes.

"There you go, consider it done."

"Thank you, I really appreciate that." She smiled down at him happily, before turning to the rest of them and bidding her goodnight to them all, which was followed by even more giggles and grumbles.

On her way back to her dorm, Robin ran into Professor McGonagall once more, but the teacher merely nodded at Robin once in acknowledgement before moving along. Odd… Robin once again wondered what Snape had written on that note. Once she was in her room and had gotten ready for bed as quietly as she could to not wake up the other girl –even if they would most definitely deserve it–, she finally decided to give in to her curiosity. Casting a quiet lumos under her covers, she slowly unfolded the parchment to avoid noise. She really wasn't supposed to read this… but her curiosity was stronger than her wish to follow nonsensical rules. The short and to the point note only contained one single sentence:

‘I hereby give Miss Robin Mitchell the permanent permission to freely move around the castle at any time she sees fit. - Professor Severus Snape’

Again, Robin couldn't help but smile. He really must trust her if he allowed her to break curfew… but then again, he had spent hours looking into her head today. He hadn't seen everything, not even close to it, but obviously it had sufficed to know that she wouldn't ever abuse the little trust he put in her now. Was he even allowed to do such a thing as allowing her to walk around at will? Professor McGonagall at least hadn't questioned it, and she was deputy headmistress… maybe it was just fine, then.

Robin folded the note back together to how it had been and then even smaller, before storing it away in her locket as well. Who knew when a permit such as this might come in handy? She definitely didn't want to lose it, even if only as a reminder of today's 'detention'. As she placed her wand on her nightstand and laid down under her covers in darkness at last, she realized that today might just have been the first time in over two years that she had continuously been around the same person for a longer period of time without the desperate wish to escape and be by herself. Funny, in over twelve hours she hadn't even once thought that his company bothered her… And even funnier was that the one person she didn't feel bothered by was also the one person that bothered absolutely everyone else.

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[dettiot]

Fic: Go With Your Heart 1/6

Go With Your Heart Author: dettiot Rating: T Summary:  When the Jedi choose not to train Anakin Skywalker, it sets him on a different path. Thanks to Obi-Wan Kenobi and Queen Amidala, Anakin and his mother come to Naboo to live in freedom. And when his path crosses with Senator Amidala, his life changes again. Notes: This fic has been such an amazing challenge for myself! Writing something so canon divergent and really exploring the changes in Anakin's personality has been really interesting and hard, and I'm really glad I got this chance! I'm really thankful to the anidalaweek Tumblr for sponsoring this event and to my beta frostbitsky.This first chapter helps set up the story. Starting in chapter 2, you'll start seeing the amazing gifs created by queenaryastark in the chapters and on my Tumblr posts of each chapter.

Also available on AO3!

XXX

Anakin: Will I ever see you again? Shmi: What does your heart tell you?

Anakin: I don't know if I'll ever see her again, I wanted to say goodbye. Queen Amidala: We will tell her for you. We are sure her heart goes with you.

XXX The Jedi Temple was full of beautiful, contemplative places like the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Yet tonight, as the sun set on Coruscant, Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn’t there. He was standing on one of the small balconies on an upper level of the Temple, looking out at the view as his mind reeled.

The Council had decided Anakin Skywalker would not be trained as a Jedi. 

He still didn’t understand how the Council made such a decision. To turn their backs on Anakin . . and on Master Qui-Gon. His master had believed so much in Anakin. His last thoughts were about the boy, asking Obi-Wan to train him. 

If Master Windu or Master Yoda or any other Jedi had asked him to take on a Padawan, Obi-Wan would have refused. What business did he have teaching anyone? An Initiate who hadn’t been selected as a Padawan? A Padawan still at twenty-five, only judged ready so that Master Qui-Gon could take on Anakin as a Padawan learner? 

Yet it had been his master to ask Obi-Wan to take this duty, so there had been no question of not accepting. 

But since the Council had refused permission, how could he hope to live up to his master’s dying request? Not to mention what to do with Anakin? 

Obi-Wan gazed up at the darkening skies, searching for answers. He had tried to meditate, but his thoughts were too tangled for him to find peace and direction from the Force. 

So it was up to him to find the answers. 

As he looked at the skies, the deepening twilight overlaid with the yellow haze from the lights of Coruscant, he wondered: if not for all the light pollution, might he see the stars? 

Might he be able to see Mandalore from here? 

As much as he tried to persuade himself that Anakin would settle in well on Mandalore, that Satine would keep an eye on him and would probably arrange for Anakin’s mother to be freed and brought to Mandalore as well, Obi-Wan didn’t think it would be the right choice for Anakin. He would learn too much aggression and violence, drawing upon his innate fear and anger. Until all his kindness and goodness was snuffed out. 

The only reason Obi-Wan was even considering Mandalore was because it would allow him to visit the planet. To see Anakin . . . and Satine. 

Drawing in a deep breath, Obi-Wan let go of the idea of sending a little boy to a politically-unstable planet simply because Anakin’s presence might let him see the woman he--

No, there was a better option. For Anakin, for his mother . . . and for Obi-Wan. 

He turned away from the view and headed inside the Temple, walking slowly to the long-range communications suite. Once he had access to a holotransmitter, he sat down and prepared what he wanted to say, then opened a channel. 

Within a few moments, the person he was waiting for appeared before him, dressed elaborately as always--well, not as always, Obi-Wan admitted. 

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing his head. “Thank you for allowing me to speak with you.” 

“Of course, Master Kenobi,” Queen Amidala of Naboo said. “We have been making arrangements for the victory celebration and for the ceremony honoring Master Qui-Gon’s sacrifice. I understood you would be returning to Naboo for those events.” 

“I will,” Obi-Wan said, feeling his heart clench at the queen’s monotone voice, talking so plainly about his master’s sacrifice. 

Something flickered in the Queen’s eyes, and when she spoke again, it was in the voice he remembered Padmé using. 

“I am very sorry for your loss, Obi-Wan,” she said softly. “How may I help?” 

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Thank you, Your Highness. I . . . the Council has decided not to train Anakin.” 

The Queen frowned. “An unfortunate decision.” 

As much as he agreed with her, he would not second-guess the Council to an outsider. “This means that Anakin is somewhat . . . displaced. His freedom papers have been filed and his slave transmitter is deactivated, yet it is unlikely he could simply return to his mother on Tatooine.” 

Lifting her head, the Queen said, “Anakin can come and live here on Naboo. And I will make arrangements to free his mother. It is the least I can do, for the assistance Anakin and Shmi provided to me while I was on Tatooine. Not to mention what Naboo owes to Anakin for destroying the droid control ship.”

A weight he hadn’t realized existed was lifted from his shoulders by the Queen’s words. Obi-Wan smiled slightly and nodded. “Thank you, Your Highness. I am very grateful to you.” 

The smile on the Queen’s face was small, but no less warm. “I am grateful to you for alerting me to Anakin’s plight. I will send my Captain of the Guard to Tatooine immediately. Once Shmi is freed, she will be brought here to Naboo.” 

“If I might suggest, Your Highness,” Obi-Wan said, his mind turning, “I believe Anakin would prefer to be with his mother when they both arrive on Naboo. We can meet your captain in Mos Espa and then arrange everything. That way, Anakin and his mother would have time together before the upheaval of starting over on a new planet.” 

“A wise recommendation,” the Queen said, inclining her head. “Very well. I will transmit Captain Panaka’s comm frequency to you, and you can make the arrangements to meet in Mos Espa.” 

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Obi-Wan replied. “I will see you on Naboo upon our arrival.” 

The Queen nodded. “I look forward to it. Please tell Anakin I hope he and his mother will like living on Naboo.” 

“I will,” Obi-Wan said, ending the call. 

And with that done, he leaned back in his chair and drew in a breath, feeling like he could sleep for a week and meditate for another week. 

But before he could rest, he would need to talk to Anakin. 

XXX

It took a few hours for Obi-Wan to contact Captain Panaka and arrange their schedules. Once that was done, he went in search of Anakin. 

The boy was not in Obi-Wan’s quarters or in the dining hall. That meant he was likely either in one of the hangars, investigating whatever ship he could get close to, or poking around with droids. 

Reaching out with his senses, it took Obi-Wan only a few moments to find the boy. 

He was in the main hangar. 

Setting off, Obi-Wan moved through the corridors of the Temple, wondering what Anakin was feeling and thinking. Hoping he could find a way to break the news to Anakin without hurting him too much. 

Perhaps the news of his mother being freed, of the two of them getting to live on a beautiful planet like Naboo, would help ease the sting. And certainly the Queen would watch out for Anakin, helping him get the support he needed. 

Yes, this was all for the best. Even if he felt a tugging from the Force, a whisper of ‘what if?’ swirling in his mind. A ‘what if’ that spiraled in a million directions from this moment, creating so many different paths.

Once inside, he quickly spotted Anakin, taking in one of the Delta 7s.

As he got closer, he heard Anakin peppering questions at the maintenance tech, who looked relieved when he saw Obi-Wan. 

“Sir, this boy--”

“Yes, it’s all right,” Obi-Wan reassured the tech before looking at Anakin. “Anakin, we need to talk.”

The light dimmed in Anakin’s face, his shoulders slumping. Obi-Wan felt himself panic and quickly crouched in front of him. “What’s wrong, Anakin?” he asked, fearing that he--and Anakin--already knew. 

“I . . . I know I’m not gonna stay,” Anakin said, swallowing audibly. “Can I--can I just go back to my mom and forget all about this?”

“Anakin, I’m afraid you are right,” Obi-Wan said, doing his best to sound and act gentle. “But there are some matters I’d like to discuss with you. Would you please come with me? Someplace a bit nicer than this hangar?”

Anakin frowned, his thoughts practically visible on his face. For a flying-mad boy, no place was nicer than the hangar. But when Obi-Wan held his hand out to him, Anakin took it and allowed himself to be led away. 

Obi-Wan took him to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, searching for a quiet area to sit with Anakin. In a small nook near a fountain, Obi-Wan took a seat on the grass and patted the ground beside him. 

“What’s all this stuff?” Anakin asked, pointing at the grass. 

“It’s called grass. On many planets, it’s as common as sand is on Tatooine,” Obi-Wan said. “Come, sit down.”

He still looked a bit hesitant, but he sank down, pulling his legs in against his chest.  

When Obi-Wan looked at Anakin, he saw a sad, scared little boy. He found himself remembering his words to Qui-Gon, about how Anakin was dangerous, and wondered how he could have been so wrong. 

“How did you guess that you weren’t staying, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, curious about his insight. 

“I just . . . I felt it,” Anakin said glumly. “They don’t want me here.”

“Well, you are right,” Obi-Wan admitted. “The Council has decided not to train you, Anakin. I’m very sorry. And--and I think they’re wrong. I . . . I told Master Yoda I was willing to leave the Order to train you, if that was what you wanted.”

Anakin’s eyes widened. “What? No! You can’t leave, Obi-Wan!”

“Why not?” 

“‘Cause--’cause you’re really good at all this stuff,” Anakin said. “You killed the guy that killed Master Qui-Gon, and he was the best Jedi ever. So you’re gonna be even better.”

Master Yoda often rhapsodized about children and their minds. How clearly they saw everything. As his cheeks flushed, Obi-Wan could understand what the Jedi grandmaster meant. 

“That’s very kind of you, Anakin, but--but putting aside me, what do you want?” Obi-Wan asked. 

Anakin went silent, hugging his knees closer to his chest. Then, in a very small voice, he said, “I want my mom.”

“More than being a Jedi? More than freeing slaves?” Obi-Wan asked, wanting Anakin to truly think about this decision, instead of just reacting from his emotions.

“More than anything,” Anakin said, looking up at him. His eyes were very blue and very determined. “She needs me.”

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a small smile. “I’m glad to hear that, Anakin. I have a plan I’d like to share with you. The Queen of Naboo has invited you to come and live there, under her protection.”

Those big blue eyes blinked, then Anakin surged to his feet. “Padmé wants me to live with her?!? Wahoo!” 

It was all Obi-Wan could do not to bury his face in his hands. What was he just thinking about Anakin not being that dangerous? 

“That’s not exactly what’s going to happen, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, grasping Anakin’s sleeve. “Sit down and let me explain it to you.”

“I’m not gonna live with Padmé?” Anakin sounded almost heartbroken, which . . . which was just ridiculous. Nine-year-olds couldn’t have their heart broken, could they?

“I spoke with the Queen and you’ll live on Naboo. I’m sure she’ll arrange for you to have a home, credits, and other supplies,” Obi-Wan said. “In addition . . . your mother will be coming with you so you can live together on Naboo.”

Anakin stared at Obi-Wan, his mouth hanging open. He was as still as a statue and Obi-Wan rushed on to finish laying out the plan. 

“I will take you to Tatooine, where we’ll meet Captain Panaka and arrange for your mother to be freed. Then the two of you will have time together on the shuttle to Naboo, before the Queen welcomes you to the planet.”

“Mom . . . Mom is going to be free, too?” Anakin said, still staring at Obi-Wan.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, his insides tied up in knots. “It was the Queen’s idea. She said she hopes you both like living on Naboo.”

The boy jumped to his feet and threw his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck, hugging him tightly. “Of course we’re gonna like it! Naboo is, like, the best planet in the whole galaxy!”

Obi-Wan breathed out a soft chuckle and patted Anakin’s back. “I’m glad you like my plan.”

Pulling back, Anakin beamed at Obi-Wan. “Of course it was your plan. Like I said, you’re gonna be the best Jedi ever.”

Before Obi-Wan could tell Anakin that there was no need for such flattery, he was asking questions, the words tumbling out of him. When would they leave? What kind of ship were they taking? Could he fly it for some of the time? Were they really going to be able to free his mom, since Watto wouldn’t sell her before? How long would it take them to get to Tatooine? How long would it take to get to Naboo from Tatooine?

Finally managing to get a word in edgewise, Obi-Wan said, “We’re going to leave just as soon as I’ve packed a few things. So we’ll just need to stop by our quarters and then we can go.”

Anakin reached out and took Obi-Wan’s hand, pulling him up with surprising strength. “Let’s move!”

There was so much vitality and life in Anakin. Obi-Wan found himself wishing he felt like that. Instead of feeling tired and numb like he did whenever Anakin wasn’t around. 

But Anakin had made his choice. Being with his mother, living on Naboo--it would be good for him. And it was his choice--perhaps the first choice he had ever gotten to make in his life. 

That was what mattered most.

XXX

Quarsh Panaka, Captain of the Royal Naboo Security Forces, was well aware that few planets could approach Naboo for beauty. But as blessed as Naboo was in resources, the planet he was standing on now was cursed by its lack. 

Because on Tatooine, the only resource seemed to be sand. 

Accompanied by the Queen’s lead handmaiden, Panaka had landed in Mos Espa a few hours ago. Already, all manner of individuals had noticed their presence and attempted to con, cheat or threaten him. 

In a way, it was refreshing. By his nature and by his training, Panaka was suspicious of anyone and everyone. So seeing people act so cravenly, seeking only to satisfy their self-interest? At least it made his job easy. 

“So this is Tatooine. Padmé didn’t exaggerate: this place is horrible.” 

With a rueful smile, Panaka turned to Sabé. “I suppose her experiences here weren’t the easiest. But this is a simple operation. Meet up with the Jedi and the boy, buy the boy’s mother, and then back home.”

Sabé looked a touch doubtful. “Padmé said that Master Qui-Gon tried to free Anakin’s mother, but her owner wouldn’t allow it.”

“Her Highness has ordered me to pay any price for Shmi Skywalker,” Panaka reassured her. “We’ll manage it.”

Nodding, Sabé reached up to secure the hair blown into her face by a gust of wind. “Is it a sandstorm?” she asked. 

“No--the Jedi is arriving,” Panaka said, pointing to a small craft landing in the bay next to theirs. “Right on time, too.”

Within a few moments, the ramp for the ship lowered and a small, sandy-haired boy dashed out of the ship, followed by a young man in Jedi robes. 

“Hi!” Anakin said brightly. “Captain Panaka, right?”

“That’s right,” Panaka said, eyeing the reason for all this work. “Nice to see you again, Anakin.”

He looked up and nodded to the Jedi. “Master Kenobi. You remember Sabé, the Queen’s handmaiden.”

Kenobi looked at Sabé, a corner of his mouth quirking upwards. “I do remember Sabé, although it’s nice to meet her as herself.”

Sabé grinned impishly then shrugged her shoulders. “I take the Queen’s safety very seriously. Almost as seriously as Captain Panaka.”

“It was you being the Queen when Padmé was being herself, right?” Anakin asked. Panaka looked around for any eavesdroppers, feeling fortunate that Skywalker didn’t have one of those booming child voices. 

“That’s right,” Sabé said, crouching in front of him. “Now, how about you show us to your mother’s house, so we can tell her the good news?”

With a wide smile, Anakin grabbed Sabé’s hand and led her out of the docking bay, chattering away. That left Panaka to bring up the rear with Kenobi. 

“Kid seems okay with not being a Jedi,” Panaka commented after a few minutes of silence. 

“For now,” Kenobi said, his hands folded into the sleeves of his robes. “Eventually, though, he might change his mind. But at least he’ll have his mother with him.”

Panaka nodded. “And y’know. Kids are resilient. So they say.”

Kenobi nodded, seemingly not interested in further conversation. Panaka didn’t take it personally. Jedi, like royalty, were their own class with their own quirks. You couldn’t take anything they did as a reflection of what they actually thought or felt. 

As they walked towards Shmi Skywalker’s house, Panaka found himself watching Anakin. The boy was . . . odd. He pulled Sabé back from the street just before an old, clanking speeder came whizzing past. It would have hit Sabé if she had been crossing. 

Of course, Skywalker knew his hometown, knew what to expect. And he probably heard the speeder coming. But still--it was odd. 

He still didn’t know if he liked Queen Amidala putting out so much to save one woman and her son. Of course, even his paranoid mind could see the Skywalkers’ initial meeting with the Queen was pure chance. But still--what if it backfired on the Queen?

Ah, well. He’d be there if it did backfire. Besides, Anakin Skywalker had something about him. Odd, yeah, but also . . . interesting. 

Panaka found himself wondering what was going to happen to the kid once he and his mom arrived on Naboo. But he thought it was going to work out okay. 

XXX

Part of her wished she didn’t need to make a formal welcome for Anakin and Shmi Skywalker. She would like to greet them more casually, as Padmé instead of Queen Amidala. 

But the reason she had been allowed to free Anakin’s mother through an outlay of not just her own personal funds, but a portion of Naboo’s revenues, was to honor the Hero of Naboo. So there had to be publicity and ceremony for the occasion. 

Flanked by her handmaidens in pale lilac gowns, Padmé stood in the reception room of the Royal Palace, dressed in a heavy, deep purple gown. She fought the urge to fidget as they waited for the arrival of Captain Panaka, Sabé and the Skywalkers, feeling curious about how Anakin was doing. 

He must be disappointed about not being trained as a Jedi. In truth, Padmé was also disappointed. It made her think the Jedi were as broken as the Republic was. Perhaps it was naïve of her to think so, to have such a dim view of the Jedi after they made one decision she hadn’t agreed with. But then, Naboo elected teenagers to the throne and sought the guidance of children due to their innocent wisdom. 

And she didn’t think having a lack of faith in the Jedi was foolish. It seemed wise. Especially right now. 

After what felt like an eternity, the doors of the reception room opened, the holocamera drones capturing every moment of the procession. Captain Panaka was the first in the room, followed by Sabé and then Master Kenobi, looking every inch the Jedi. And there was Anakin, clutching Shmi’s hand and beaming at everyone he made eye contact with. 

But Padmé thought his smile grew a bit bigger when he saw her. 

Shmi looked overwhelmed and kept smoothing her hair, but her smile was the same gentle, kind one Padmé had seen on Tatooine. 

Padmé waited for Anakin and Shmi to reach her, then spoke in her Queen Amidala voice. “Anakin Skywalker, Shmi Skywalker, welcome to Naboo. In recognition of your assistance to ourselves and the people of Naboo, you are now citizens of this planet, with all entitled rights and privileges. It is the least we can do to honor your service and sacrifice.”

As planned, Padmé bowed, followed by her handmaidens. Jar-Jar Binks, the Gungan representative who had stayed blessedly silent until then, let out a cheer that rocked the room. 

Master Kenobi leaned forward and spoke softly to Anakin and then Shmi, obviously prompting them. Shmi said quietly, in a voice filled with gratitude, “Thank you, my lady.” 

But Anakin wasn’t content with a simple thank you. He dashed forward and kneeled in front of Padmé. “Thank you, Your Highness, and I promise, I’ll do everything I can to protect you and Naboo!” 

A wave of amused chuckles rang out, but Padmé wanted to honor Anakin’s sweet response. “We have every confidence in you, Anakin Skywalker.”

He rose with a wide smile on his face, looking at her with stars in his eyes, and Padmé couldn’t help smiling back. 

With that, the formal ceremony was over and the holocameras were switched off. The reception room emptied out a bit, with most of the guests exiting through the doors into the gardens for refreshments. 

Left alone with the Skywalkers and Master Kenobi, Padmé gave Sabé a smile of welcome, glad to have her back by her side. Then she stepped over to Shmi and Anakin. “I hope the ceremony wasn’t too overwhelming,” she said to Shmi. 

“Sabé prepared us on our trip,” Shmi said, still smoothing back her hair. “It’s so kind of you, Your Highness. All that you’ve done for Anakin and I . . .” 

“I was happy to help when Master Kenobi informed me the Jedi would not be training Anakin,” Padmé said, meaning it with all her heart. 

Shmi’s eyes darkened slightly, then she looked down at Anakin. “Ani, why don’t you go have some food? You could also get me some water, if you don’t mind.” 

“Mom, I’ll be good,” Anakin protested. 

She smiled gently at her son, but spoke firmly. “I know you will be. Go along.” 

“I’ll go with Anakin if he’d like the company,” Master Kenobi said, stepping forward. 

Anakin still looked torn, but then he allowed Obi-Wan to escort him out to the gardens. 

Padmé waited until they were both out of earshot, then looked at Shmi. The older woman took a deep breath. “Your Highness, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you. For myself and for Ani.” 

Stepping forward, Padmé took Shmi’s hands, feeling the rough skin and calluses. “You can thank me by being happy. By raising Anakin in freedom and by living a life without hardship.” 

Shmi’s eyes glistened, but she held back her tears. “How, though? I . . . I have so few skills . . .” 

“You’re a wonderful mother. That’s a very important skill,” Padmé said. “You remind me of my mother, so I know you’ll be fine. And you’ll have Sabé to help you--she’ll be with you to get you settled in Moenia, which is her hometown.” 

“Oh,” Shmi said, looking surprised. “Really?” 

Padmé nodded and gestured to her handmaiden. “Sabé will tell you more. But first--anything you or Anakin need, you will have.” She gently squeezed Shmi’s hands. “Anakin is a Hero of Naboo. He’s already made us proud, even before he became a Nabooian. I know you and Anakin will keep making us proud.” 

As Padmé hoped, her words seemed to reassure Shmi. Her face relaxed and she squeezed Padmé’s hands back. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t seem to find the words. So she just smiled at Padmé, a smile that reminded her of Anakin’s. 

With a smile of her own, Padmé stepped back. “I’ll let you and Sabé discuss the arrangements she’s made so far.” 

At this moment, Eirtaé quietly said to Padmé, “Your Highness, you have your weekly meeting with Governor Bibble and the other planetary leaders.”

“Thank you, Eirtaé,” Padmé said, holding back her sigh. She wished she could say goodbye to Anakin, but hopefully that would happen before the Skywalkers left for Moenia. 

After all, the Skywalkers were now under her protection, like all the other citizens of Naboo. She wanted to do her duty to them. 

So Padmé left the reception room, heading to the throne room, mentally preparing for all the responsibilities awaiting her. 

XXX

The planet of Naboo was like something out of a dream. She had lived on several different planets, but none of them could compare to Naboo. The lakes, the grasslands, the gently rolling hills . . . 

Watching Anakin explore the gardens, his eyes lighting up with every new discovery--this was the kind of life she had always wanted for him. The life she thought he might have with the Jedi. 

Shmi was worried about Anakin. How would he feel once the novelty of this new life faded? Would he always want that other life, a life with the Jedi? Would he look to the stars, like he did on Tatooine, and feel like his place was among them? 

But perhaps it would be different. Her daring, impulsive, bright boy could stay with her now. She could watch him grow up, could help him with his struggles. Maybe that would be enough. 

And maybe she was just being a worrywart, Shmi silently conceded with a smile. 

“Mom, Mom!” Anakin came running up to her and grabbed her hand. “You gotta come feel the grass! It’s so cool and so soft! Not like sand at all.” 

“All right, Ani, I’m coming,” she said with a soft laugh. 

Her son pulled her over to a far corner of the garden, where a stretch of grass was surrounded by flowering bushes and tall trees. The soft chirping of birds and the hum of insects were the only sounds. It was all so peaceful and serene. Like nothing bad could ever happen here. 

Of course, she knew that only a short time ago, a great battle had been fought here. But still . . . this planet was so quiet. 

Anakin flopped down on the grass and grinned up at her. She sank down beside him, reaching out to run her fingertips over the grass. As he had promised, it was soft and cool--so comfortable to sit upon. 

She smiled and reached out to stroke his hair, which was just as soft as the grass. “Are you happy, Ani?” 

He nodded eagerly. “I’m so glad you’re here, Mom.” His expression dimmed and he moved closer to her. “I hated to leave you behind. It . . . it didn’t feel right.” 

“I know, Ani,” she said, still stroking his hair. “But you know, some day, you’ll need to leave me. When you want to go to school, or when you get married, or if you go off-planet . . .” 

“None of that’s gonna happen for years,” Anakin said. “Besides, I’m gonna marry Padmé, so we’ll be staying here.” 

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he turned bright red and rolled over, hiding his face against the grass. Shmi ignored the grass stains his clothes were acquiring and rested her hand on his back. 

“I mean . . . I’m not really gonna marry her, I know,” Anakin said, his voice muffled against the grass. “But--but she’s so nice, Mom. And really smart.”

“Padmé is a wonderful person. The fact that you like her means you are very smart, Ani,” Shmi said, smiling softly at his back. “I like her, too. And I’m very grateful for everything she’s done for us.” 

Anakin rolled over enough to look at her. “Yeah?” 

Shmi nodded. “Yes. We’re going to have a little house in a town called Moenia. Padmé is sending Sabé with us, to help us get used to Naboo and introduce us to people there. Moenia is where Sabé grew up.” 

“Wait, we’re not staying here in Theed?” Anakin asked, sitting up. “Why not?” 

“Padmé thought we would like it better in Moenia,” Shmi said. “If we stayed here in Theed, Sabé explained, we’d get followed by holocameras and bothered by reporters. And that would make it harder for us to get used to our new life.”

His eyebrows drew together. “But I want to live in Theed.” 

“Ani,” Shmi said gently, “just because we’re going to be living in Moenia, that doesn’t mean you won’t be able to visit Theed and see Padmé.”

There was a stubborn cast to his expression, but Shmi could feel the emotions churning inside her son. This reaction wasn’t only about not seeing Padmé. She reached out and pulled him close to her, thankful that he was still small enough to cuddle against her. 

“Moenia is a new place for both of us. We won’t know anyone, we don’t know much about life on Naboo, and it’ll be very scary for both of us,” she said softly. “But I’m also excited. We get to learn so much, Ani. You’re going to go to school for the first time. I’m going to find a job and make credits I’ll get to keep, for the first time in my life.” 

Closing her eyes, Shmi rested her face against Anakin’s sun-bright hair. “Do you remember what I told you before you left Tatooine?” 

Anakin’s voice was soft against her shoulder. “That I can’t stop change any more than I can stop the suns from setting.” 

“That’s right,” she said, feeling the pride swell within her. “And now, we won’t be facing change alone. We’ll have each other.” 

“I love you, Ani,” she said softly. 

Suddenly, his arms were wrapped tightly around her neck. “I love you, too, Mom,” he said, his voice so fierce and determined. “As long as we have each other, we’ll be okay.” 

“Of course we’ll be okay,” she said, hugging him back. 

In this moment, Shmi Skywalker truly believed they would be okay. It wasn’t like her to be so optimistic--she would describe herself as pragmatic or realistic--but all of her most secret dreams and wishes had come true. She and Ani were safe and free, on a planet with no war and little crime, under the protection of the planet’s leader. 

No, they would be better than okay--they would be happy. Just as Padmé wanted for them.

Just as Shmi wanted, too. 

End, Chapter 1

#anidala #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #star wars #my fic #varykinovember #go with your heart

[a-libra-writes]

Salt & Snow - Chapter 2

Ships: Ned Stark x Reader, Brandon Stark x Reader

Summary: House Caspian’s only daughter returns to Winterfell, with her family in tow. She’s delighted to see her friends again, but with the end of the visit comes very startling news.

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Only two weeks passed before Y/N got her first letter from Lyanna. It was a long one, full of enthusiasm and clumsy penmanship, asking after Y/N, her family and full of questions about Ramsgate and their keep, Whitetide. Why are your lands called Ramsgate? Are there lots of goats when you move away from the sea? How big is Whitetide? Is it really right on top of the beach?

Y/N eagerly wrote back, and her mother gave her the idea to include some seashells, a starfish and a sand dollar, all little treasures that Y/N collected on her many walks on the beach. She couldn’t wait for Lyanna’s response, asking the guard who watched for deliveries every day if there was something for her. Lady Talia finally had to ask her to leave the poor man alone.

But the next correspondence was by raven, of all things, a little message with a cute drawing of a direwolf and a big thank you from Lyanna and Benjen. The maester handed it to her parents with great confusion, and they in turn blinked at it before giving it to Y/N. She gladly kept it safe in her sketchbook.

The next letter detailed the great scolding Lyanna received for using one of Winterfell’s ravens. She worried her mother wouldn’t let her send any letters at all, but instead she was forced to stay inside for two weeks helping Nan knit and practicing her penmanship with the maester. Y/N giggled at the thought, and made a point to compliment Lyanna’s handwriting. She could already imagine the girl’s grimace and cramped hand.

The letters became a staple in the next year. It was towards the end of the ninth moon when Lyanna sent an especially long one. Y/N read it halfway before she was jumping on top of her bed in excitement.

She ran down the steps, nearly crashing into a washerwoman and narrowly avoiding a guard. Lady Talia frowned at her daughter arriving in the great hall in such a breathless flurry. “Y/N, you’ll trip over your skirts and break open your head if you carry on like that —”

“Mother! Are we going back to Winterfell?”

Lady Talia almost dropped baby Rickard. She recovered herself and sighed. “Oh, it was supposed to be a surprise! Did your father tell you?”

“No, Lyanna did!” Y/N waved the letter at her mother, too fast for the woman to actually look at it’s contents. “When are we going? Is it soon? Is it tomorrow?”

“Yes, soon, sweetling. Think about what things you want to pack. It will be a long stay, so bring all your dresses and some books.”

Y/N almost didn’t hear her. She was buzzing. How long was a long stay? How soon was soon? She would’ve asked a dozen more questions if her mother hadn’t shooed her out.

Two maids helped her pack. Y/N expected to use the small wooden trunk she and Willam shared last time. It was colorfully painted and had manta rays carved into the sides, so she especially liked it. Instead, the maids brought in two large trunks, the ones grown-up ladies used to transport their fine gowns and furs. She gaped at all the space on the inside, and how finely it was lined. A whole person could fit in there, or at least both her and Willam!

She already pulled dresses from the armoire — it was easy, she only had so many — but the maid was taking everything out of her closet, even her long winter socks that probably didn’t fit anymore. The other maid was neatly stacking all of her books.

“Oh, um, I was only taking four,” Y/N said to her.

The maid smiled. “You’ll want all of them, milady.”

No, I only wanted four, Y/N thought, but the maids listened to her lady mother, not her. It would be useless to argue with them. If the men who packed up the carts complained about the weight of her trunks, she’d know what to tell them.

At dinner, her father asked, “All excited for the trip, little ray?” and he was delighted with his daughter’s enthusiastic response. She hadn’t noticed her mother looking less excited, but Lady Talia still gave Y/N a smile when she looked her way.

“I’m going too!” Willam declared, as if he worried he was going to be left behind. Lord Gareth tousled his hair and promised he could ride along with the knights and guards.

Seeing Winterfell for the second time was just like the first;  breathtaking and no less a marvel. It was still hard to believe that a castle that big existed, and it was so close to Ramsgate, and she had a friend waiting inside. She was buzzing to get out of the carriage and just run up to the gates herself, but her mother was far less permissive than her uncle. She fretted over Y/N’s hair and tried to smooth her dress as they rode through the gate, and Y/N used every fiber of self-control not to squirm away. Her mother’s eyes said she was not in the mood to be disobeyed.

Finally, finally, the carriage door opened. Before the Winterfell guard could even greet her, she was flying down the steps.

Y/N heard her mother calling, but she pretended not to hear. The cold, saltless air blew through her hair, and she took a deep breath. It smelled like the dirt of the yard, the savory smoke from the kitchens and the distant pine of the forests. She only had a few moments to take it all in before the wind was thrown right out of her lungs.

Y/N choked as arms were thrown around her. She very nearly teetered over, the only thing stopped her was Lyanna yanking her back. The girl had a frightening grip. “Y/N! You’re here! It’s been forever!”

“I-I am!” Y/N coughed. “My mother is here this time, and Willam is back, and I have some things for you, and —”

“Lyanna, unhand the poor girl.” Lady Stark’s voice was familiar, but her appearance was a surprise again. Y/N realized she’d somewhat forgotten what the Lady looked like, but she remembered the pretty, long hair and grey eyes. “Y/N, it’s good to see you again, sweetling.”

Y/N was able to do a proper curtsy once she was unhanded, but she still felt a little dizzy. “Thank you for having me again, Lady Stark.”

“Where’s your lady mother, and lord father? Goodness, did you run ahead of them?” Lady Stark shook her head, but she didn’t seem truly upset. Had she always been so pale, though? Y/N couldn’t recall, and her friend easily took her attention away.

“Y/N, we have some new horses! You haven’t seen them yet, they’re so pretty. I’ve gotten to ride them already.” Lyanna just realized something. “Mother, can I show her?”

Y/N was expecting Lady Stark to put up a fuss, as her mother might have, but the woman looked too tired. She simply nodded and waved the two girls away. Y/N wondered if it was truly okay, even as Lyanna pulled on her hand. Y/N went along, figuring she’d see her parents and the Lord and Lady Stark at dinner tonight, anyhow. She could do her proper courtesies then.

To Lyanna’s disappointment, the new horses she was so proud of had been taken out on a hunt, so the next stop was the library of Winterfell, which surprised Y/N. She hadn’t taken Lyanna for the type to read these huge, dusty things, but it wasn’t a huge or dusty book that Lyanna pulled out. There was an old chest at the bottom of one of the bookshelves, and when she opened it, a collection of rolled-up parchment was inside. 

Y/N’s nose wrinkled at the smell. “Are we allowed to look at these?”

“They’re here for the Starks.” Lyanna replied. Y/N felt like her friend could have unrolled the old parchment a little neater.

Lyanna set two heavy inkpots in either side of the parchment to keep it from rolling back. The beautiful drawings unfurled before her, and Y/N realized it was a stylistic, detailed map of Westeros. She gasped in delight. “Oh, it’s so pretty!”

The linework was so fine and detailed, each little mountain, tree and even tiny ships on waves were drawn out. She immediately looked for Ramsgate, and it saddened her that the Caspian ray was not there. It was still the merman of Manderly. This must have been a very old map, then.

“Your manta ray isn’t here!” Lyanna realized it as well, perhaps for the first time. “Hmph. They should update these dusty old things.”

“I don’t think that’s possible ... It’s still beautiful.” Y/N said. She sat in the chair with Lyanna; it was so wide, both of them could sit in it with just a little discomfort. Lyanna was skinny for her age, but she was already taller than Y/N. Y/N could swear they were the same height last year. “I love how they painted Winterfell. There’s even direwolves around it, and look here, each castle has its Godswood drawn, too. You can even see some of the Godswoods in the Southern castles, but they’re not as good as the one in Winterfell.”

Lyanna was proud of that. She pointed out some of her favorite parts of the map: The kraken encircling the Iron Islands, the collection of trouts running down Riverrun, the beautiful flowers and crops that covered most of the Reach. She and Y/N shivered as they saw the detailed flayed man of the Boltons, and they admired the horses of the Ryswells.

Lyanna pointed toward the Vale, where the Eyrie was drawn in splendid detail, its white, blue and dark grey ink only slightly faded. A beautiful sky-blue falcon perched on top of it. She tapped it with her finger and sighed. “Ned’s here.”

Y/N didn’t quite understand. She floated her own finger above the parchment, tracing from Winterfell all the way to the Eyrie. “But why? It’s so far away,” She said. “It takes days to get from Whitetide to Winterfell, and only if the weather is good. That’s what my father said.”

“I don’t know.” Lyanna crossed her arms. “I didn’t want him to go. He didn’t, either! But mother and father said it was important for young lords to learn … whatever they said. Hmph. Why couldn’t our maester just teach him?”

“And Brandon is the oldest. Shouldn’t he learn all the important things?”

“He should! He’s thick as an aurochs, though. That doesn’t mean I want him to go away to a big, stupid mountain, too. Even if he deserves it.” Lyanna huffed. “Ned writes sometimes, but letters take too long to go up and down the Eyrie, he said so. He said you have to take a donkey to go up, or ride in a basket of turnips!”

“A basket…?”

“They use a rope to pull you up, like getting water from the well.”

That didn’t seem right, but Y/N didn’t know anything about the Eyrie. Lyanna continued with a huff. “The last letter he sent was all about some lord he’s friends with, a boy named Robert. He’s a Baratheon from Storm’s End. He’s the first son of that house, so why did Ned have to go?”

Y/N knew where Storm’s End was. She was familiar with most coastal cities and keeps, like Oldtown and Lannisport, and Storm’s End was no different. It’s two great walls that looked like big drums, her Uncle said, and she was delighted to see it painted just as he described. There was a rearing black stag sitting atop it, and it was just as far from the Eyrie as the direwolf was.

“It must be very sad to be so far from home,” Y/N said. She couldn’t imagine.

Lyanna frowned. “Ned should come home so I don’t have to hear about stupid Robert anymore.”

“Who’s Robert?”

The sudden voice made Y/N yelp and jump almost a foot in the air, and that reaction made Lyanna fall right out of the chair and onto the floor. She scrambled back to her feet. “Benjen! Don’t sneak up on people!”

“It’s not my fault you don’t pay attention. Who’s Robert?”

“The boy from Ned’s letter, remember? We read it together!”

“Are you allowed to take these maps out?” Benjen asked.

“Ugh, we’re done with it, anyway. You really do sneak around like a shadowcat.” Lyanna removed the inkpots and Y/N took charge of carefully rolling the map. Maybe I can look at it later? The pictures are so pretty … Even if it doesn’t have a manta ray.

“I’m bored.” Benjen said. He clearly expected his sister and Y/N to do something about it.

“We can play a game?” Y/N offered. She watched with some concern as Lyanna closed the trunk and tried to shove it back on the shelves. She couldn’t remember if that’s how it looked when they found it.

After much discussion and debate, hide and seek was declared the game of choice… with some rules. Lyanna made it very clear that they were only hiding inside the living area of the keep, and only in rooms they were allowed inside, and only in rooms with no adults. She looked directly to Benjen as she said all of this. Lyanna was declared “it”, and Benjen wasted little time in grabbing Y/N’s sleeve when she began counting.

“Where should I hide?” Y/N asked. “I don’t know the castle. I could get lost.”

“Just keep going down that hall until you see a big window, and choose any of those rooms,” Benjen pointed. “There’s lots of tables to hide under. Oh, if you find a blue yarn ball anywhere, that’s Nan’s. Tell her I didn’t take it.”

Before Y/N could question that, Benjen shoved her in the direction of the long hallway and went scurrying off. Y/N could only faintly hear Lyanna counting in the library, so she hurried, trying to decide which room to dart into. Lyanna would expect her to hide in one of these rooms. After all, Benjen went somewhere else, somewhere that was actually difficult to find.

She noticed one of the rooms was being occupied. The door was closed, but there was light and warmth coming from under it. Y/N suddenly felt she was intruding, so she walked carefully past it. The voices from inside were feminine, and very familiar. She stopped suddenly when she heard her mother’s familiar laugh.

Her mother’s voice drifted behind the wooden door. Y/N leaned against the door, assuming she’d hear her brother or father, but instead there was another lady’s voice. Lady Stark. They were probably doing needlework by the hearth. She was ready to move on, but she heard her name.

“Y/N is a very dear girl, I think she’ll be happy …”

I’ll be what? Y/N pressed her ear against the wood. She remembered the keyhole, and while it was too small to peek, she could put her ear to it.

“You cannot consider the offer,” That was Lady Stark’s voice that sounded so stern, like when she scolded her children. “You musn’t, Talia.”

“I told Gareth about it, but he said …”

“ … Men are foolish about these things, you shall not …”

It was hard to catch the conversation, and Y/N worried about leaning on the door too hard - it might creak - but her curiosity was burning a hole in her. She couldn’t help but pick up several morsels as  she listened in.

“If they think … my only daughter …”

“… We could always … She’s young, but a good child …”

“… It was supposed to be in a few years, Lyarra …”

A pair of hands grasped Y/N’s shoulders, and she screamed as Lyanna tackled her. “YOU’RE IT!”

There was exclamations and the sound of something breaking inside. Lady Stark swung the door open and was greeted to two girls sprawled on the floor. They were promptly dragged inside and forced to sit and participate in the needlework that the two women were doing. Y/N glanced at both Lady Stark and her mother, both peeved, both not picking up whatever conversation they were having earlier … because it was about her.

Y/N tried to focus on threading the needle. I heard my name, there’s no mistaking it. Am I in trouble?

Thirty minutes into the forced needlework, Lyanna gasped and realized they were supposed to find Benjen. Lady Stark sharply told her to sit. Benjen walked past the open doorway a few minutes later anyway, tying some blue yarn into complicated knots. He stuck his tongue out at Lyanna while his mother’s head was down, and Y/N pulled back Lyanna’s arm to keep her from tossing her embroidery hoop.

Y/N enjoyed an entire week at Winterfell, and she didn’t have a moment without the Stark children. Lyanna was an almost constant presence, of course. They had lessons in the day and ate together in the evening, and at night they even shared a room. They’d whisper and chatter under the furs until one of them finally fell asleep, usually Y/N. Benjen often joined in their more lively activities, and even Brandon would come along now and again, although it was usually just to annoy them. He fancied himself an important “man” of fourteen, and didn’t think much of silly girls.

Lyanna didn’t want Y/N to leave, so she tried not to think about how short a week really was. She hated having to waste time doing embroidery and staying inside, even if Y/N made such beautiful drawings on her canvas, and even if she was a surprisingly elegant dancer at her young age.

It was the seventh day, and Lyanna and Y/N groggily went through their morning routine. The septa helped them lace their clothes and braid their hair. Y/N looked over at her chest, still open and … empty?

“Septa Alys, where are my things?” She asked with some concern.

The septa was not terribly old. She had a sweet disposition and was more prone to wringing her hands instead of scolding whenever Lyanna acted up. “They were put away yesterday, dear. Did you not notice?”

“But why? I’m leaving today.”

Septa Alys was more occupied with Lyanna’s hair. “You’ll have to ask your lady mother and lord father, dear.”

“Maybe the servants were mistaken? I’ll help you put it back.” Lyanna offered, but she didn’t sound happy about it. Now that she was properly awake, she was sullen. She spent most of the previous night sulking.

Septa Alys helped Y/N secure the pearl and silver string in her hair, complimenting how lovely it looked with her pretty hair. Y/N didn’t completely hear her. She walked down the hall with Lyanna, who let out another sigh.

“We can still write,” Y/N said. She wasn’t happy, either, but she didn’t want their last day to be so gloomy. “I’ll send you things again, too.”

Thankfully, Lyanna was willing to be cheered. “I want to send you things too, but we don’t have seashells or anything like that here… I’ll think of something. I’ll send you blue rose petals! You wanted to paint them, right?”

“Oh, yes, I’d love that. Weirwood leaves, too. The ones at your Godswood are so big!”

The girls fell into an easy chatter as they entered the great hall for breakfast. The four parents were there, as Y/N expected, but there was no food on the table - they weren’t even sitting yet. Brandon, Benjen and Willam were nowhere to be seen, nor was Ser Roderick or the maester or any of the other staff that were slowly becoming familiar. Lyanna sensed the strangeness, too.

“Mother, what’s going on?” She asked.

“Girls, we have something important to tell you.” Lady Stark beckoned them. She didn’t look as tired this morning, in fact, she seemed like she was trying to keep from smiling too much. Y/N instantly looked to her mother, who was beaming, and her father, who had a smile with tension behind it. Lord Stark looked thoroughly amused.

“Y/N, do you like it here?” Her mother asked.

Y/N thought it was a silly question, and not what it seemed, but she didn’t know how to answer. “Yes, I like Winterfell very much.”

It was Lord Stark’s voice that boomed, and Y/N didn’t expect it. She startled a little. “Would you like to stay here for a longer time, little Y/N?”

She looked to Lyanna, who was just as confused, then to the parents again. “For how much longer, my lord?”

“Well,” Her mother tried to sound excited, but she was using the same voice she reserved for carefully explaining something to Willam, especially after he was about to cry about something. “Until you’re a woman grown, Y/N. In Winterfell you’ll learn to be a proper lady and wife, doing the same lessons as Lyanna. You’ll be like sisters.”

“Sisters?” Lyanna gaped.

“She’ll live with us for a few years, not as a guest, but as family.” Lady Stark said to her daughter. She didn’t speak to them like they were Willam. “You have heard that Ned is fostering in the Eyrie? It is like that, my dear.”

“Oh.”

She couldn’t believe it. Y/N was struck with absolute disbelief, like she was still walking around in a dream and she’d wake to Lyanna’s arm hitting her in the face again. Happiness hit her, excitement, but also nervousness, and then —

“But - Willam is not staying? Mother and father aren’t …?”

“Just you, little ray,” Her father finally spoke. He bent down to her level, still in light armor in spite of the early hour. “With Lady Stark and the septa, you can get a proper education here. You’re our only daughter, and we want you to be taken care of.”

He sounded sad, and his eyes didn’t meet her’s completely, but he took her hand. Y/N felt like she shouldn’t be excited anymore. Could her family not take care of her? Was baby Rickard really so fussy, was Willam really so much more important?

No, Willam might foster in a few years, too, but not here. He’ll be a page or a squire. It’s an important thing for lords to do, especially first-born ... Mother and Father must expect a lot from me ... 

Even if they had another daughter, Y/N was the oldest by far. She was always responsible for Willam, and she’d already helped plenty with baby Rickard. Her septa and maester were also often pleased with how she progressed in her lessons. A sense of duty and pride filled Y/N, combined with all the other swirling emotions. She’d miss her family very much, but her mother had told her many times about the duties of a grown lady. Wasn’t this part of that?

She felt Lyanna take her hand and squeeze it. Y/N could have been sent anywhere else in the North, or like Ned, far away to some mountain keep — to a place where she had no friends, and no familiar faces.

It must have been very hard for him, Y/N thought suddenly, but she shook those thoughts free when she realized everyone wanted a reaction from her. She nodded, looking toward her father first, because addressing everyone felt frightening. She might start crying.

“I’m very happy,” She said, hoping she sounded as such. She wasn’t sure how she felt; too many emotions were buzzing about and not staying still. “I’ll miss you, and mother, and my brothers … will you still visit? Can I visit?”

“Of course! Especially during the harvest season and the melees.” Lord Stark said.

Her mother added, “You’ll write me weekly, I want to read about all the things you’re doing. Time will pass before you know it.”

“It will be so nice to have lessons with you!” Lyanna blurted. Y/N was surprised how still and quiet she was being up until now. “It’s fine enough with Benjen, but he doesn’t do the lady things I have to. Oh! Mother, will we still share a room?”

“Yes, especially when winter comes, it will be too cold —”

The situation had fully sunk into Lyanna’s mind, and now she couldn’t stop. “You could have a horse of your own! Can you ride? No, you told me, so you’ll learn! I’ll teach you! We can watch the fighters spar, and we can walk in the Godswood, and sometimes when father goes to Winter Town —”

“Lyanna.”

She was hardly discouraged by her mother’s sharp tone. Y/N noticed her father looked much happier, and he kissed her brow before standing back up.

“Let’s break our fast, then!” Lord Stark went to his old friend and slapped his back. “I’ll call the rest in, the Others know where Brandon ran off to, though. Lyarra, where’s that son of your’s?”

“Your son is in the yard, swinging that new sword about. Sit beside us on the dais, sweetling.” Lady Stark patted Y/N on the head as she walked past her. Y/N’s mother smiled approvingly, and pulled her soft braid forward. The pearl glinted in the morning light.

“I’ll send you many more things, so you don’t feel so homesick, little ray.” She said. Then she turned to Lyanna. “It will be nice to have a sister for once, won’t it?”

“Yes, thank the gods.” Lyanna said bluntly, and the adults laughed to themselves, even Lady Stark, who was failing to look embarrassed. While the servants poured in to serve the food, and men at arms entered, and finally Benjen, Brandon and Willam, Y/N was quiet. She filled her plate, but much of it was untouched. Her stomach and her chest were fluttering at the same time, and if maybe one of them would settle, she could eat something more.

Lyanna was excited, too excited, enough to make Y/N feel uneasy. Her parents and Lyanna’s parents were pleased, her friend was delighted, the various members of Winterfell expressed their well-wishes.

Winterfell is big and beautiful, and Lyanna is my very best friend, and her brothers are nice, too. Lady Stark, Lord Stark, the maester, Septa Alys… No one has been unkind to me.

Y/N wanted to excuse herself. The hall was noisy, so she could have slipped away, if only they weren’t on the dais. Benjen was beside her, and he leaned in so their shoulders touched. “What’s the matter?”

She glanced up at his big, wondering eyes, and quickly said, “Nothing.”

Very little escaped Benjen, she knew. He was a year younger, but sometimes Y/N felt like he was older - only sometimes, when he wasn’t teasing them or playing a stupid prank. “It’s okay to be unhappy.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what to make of that statement. “I’m not. I like it here. … I’ll just miss home sometimes, I think.”

“It’d be strange to not miss home, right?” Benjen said. “You said you can’t smell the sea here.”

Y/N deflated. Now she truly wanted to cry, but she held it in, and touched her pearl. There were no pearls in Winterfell, no seashells, no sunsets making the water glitter, no giant ships with their billowing sails. There was no smell of salt or sound of waves.

“I’m sorry,” Benjen said quickly. He touched her hand where she left it, under the table, and squeezed her fingers. It was much gentler than the way Lyanna grasped it. “We should go to Whitetide one day.”

“You’d want to go?”

“I’ve never seen the ocean or a manta ray. Not even a ship.” Benjen looked on the other side of Y/N, where Lyanna was sitting. “Lyanna! Let’s go to Ramsgate.”

“What? When?” She stared at Y/N, as if that was who gave the suggestion.

“Um, some day,” Y/N said. “Maybe some day soon. Our castle isn’t big as Winterfell, or Lord Manderly’s keep, but I’ll show you the  beach and the ships.”

She smiled as she thought of that. She could already see Lyanna building sand castles and getting completely dirty, and Benjen would sneak behind her and dump sand down her tunic. Brandon could come, too. He’d watch the ships with her uncle, or even board one, because he was a lordling and a man now. Maybe, somehow, Ned could come, too. She wondered what he’d like to do on the beach. Perhaps he’d just watch the waves hit the rocks, but that was fine in and of itself - because at night, you could see the stars the sailors navigated with. Y/N knew almost all of them.

This is what she said to Lyanna and Benjen, who listened with rapt attention. As she thought, Lyanna loved the idea of sandcastles, but she wanted to feel the waves crash against her legs, too. Benjen wanted to see a ‘tide pool’, and the little crabs that sat inside them - Y/N couldn’t imagine why he wanted to catch one of the mean things. Even Brandon overheard them, and chimed in. He couldn’t hide his own curiosity as he asked questions about House Caspian’s flagship.

When she returned to Lyanna’s room, her trunk had been stowed away somewhere, and her clothes were in Lyanna’s armoire. Her books were on a small shelf, and her other few belongings were with them. I need to ask mother and father to send my paints. She cared more about that than her cloak and riding boots.

It wasn’t long after that her parents and Willam had to leave for Whitetide. As Y/N expected, Willam cried. She hugged him and promised he could visit, or maybe she’d visit, and she’d write letters, although that meant nothing to him. Sometimes he was more like baby Rickard than Benjen. Still, she was glad her little brother had so much affection for her, and she ended up crying herself as she hugged her mother and father. It pained her that she couldn’t give a proper goodbye to Uncle Cole.

All of the Starks and Y/N watched as the carriage, horses and few men-at-arms disappeared. Eventually Lord and Lady Stark returned to the castle, but the children stayed by her side. Lyanna was holding her hand, Benjen slightly leaned on her other side, and behind her was Brandon’s strong presence. He was already so much taller than any of them.

Y/N thought her tears would have dried eventually, but they kept silently falling. She got tired of rubbing at her face with her sleeves, and she was glad no one was bringing attention to it, even if it was making Lyanna sniff at rub at her own eyes.

Y/N felt Brandon’s hand on her head, and while the gesture would normally annoy her, he wasn’t trying to tease her this time. As she looked up at him, Brandon almost looked sad.

“Manta rays shouldn’t be away from the sea for so long,” He said. “So you’ll have to be a wolf for now.”

“She’s too nice and pretty to be a she-wolf,” Benjen said.

Lyanna quickly asked, “What does that make me?”

“It won’t be for long.” Brandon said. Y/N couldn’t help but notice that for once, he seemed unsure with his words. He was usually so self-assured. The lordling gently touched her hair, where the pearl was tied in. “You’ll always have that to remember.”

Y/N looked down at the iridescent pearl, and while the silver glinted prettily in the sunlight, the pearl’s beauty was something else. It was a little bigger than  her thumb. It wouldn’t be her only pearl, but it was her first, and her father did away with several before finding this one for her. It was almost a perfect sphere, almost.

Brandon seemed done with sentiment for the day. He didn’t wait for an answer as he turned away. “I’m going to practice. Lyanna, your face is going to stick like that if you keep making a stupid face.”

“Your face is already stuck with stupid, Bran!” Lyanna retorted hotly, then added, “And use your sword like a sword when you practice today, yesterday you flailed it like a reed!”

Y/N laughed as she rubbed the last of the tears from her eyes. Benjen said, “There’s some snow up on the walls, want to make snowballs?”

“Yes, and throw them!”

“At what?” Y/N asked. “Each other? Our dresses will get wet.”

“So we’ll throw them at someone not in a dress.” Lyanna looked at Brandon’s retreating figure pointedly. She pulled up her skirt to her calves, always the one who had to get a head start, even if it wasn’t a race. “Come on! I know the fastest way!”

#game of thrones x reader #ned stark x reader #game of thrones imagines #ned stark #salt & snow #libra fics

[offbrandmercyplates]

I should put a title here but I don't know what to put AAA

Tumblr User invader-amethyst: *Has a Greek Gods AU headcanon*

Emmibee: “Hey fic writers, feel free to write—”

Me: *Throws self into the computer screen Super Mario 64 style* I’VE BEEN SUMMONED.

So, yep! invader-amethyst sent in an ask with a Greek Gods AU idea, and Emmibee gave it a stamp of approval. Thus, I wrote. This one actually took a few tries to get started, but I think I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. See you at the bottom!

 ***

The Unseen One’s Lesson on Loneliness

The Underworld, for the most part, was made up of stone tunnels and caverns that were bathed a deep blue by the numerous crystals on the walls and ceilings. The entrances to these tunnels and caverns often shifted around, by their own will or the will of their king, which created an infinite combination of paths to wander and explore. Condensation would drip from stalactites into little puddles that never grew or shrank, and the drips and drops echoed throughout the Underworld in a way that soothed some and unnerved most. The goddess of spring was part of the former.

Kore was currently sitting in a cavern with a floor of damp, loamy soil. It had been the first gift given to her by the god of death in person, rather than secretly left for her to discover.

She enjoyed feeling the soil with her hands, watching it fall between her fingers and smooth over her palms. She was, admittedly, a bit indecisive, and had yet to choose what she would grow in this new garden first. Since food was ample in the Underworld, flowers seemed to be the best option, but which flowers should she grow first? Should she start small, with some bushes of roses? Something thematically appropriate to the setting, like some branches of belladonna? So many choices, but which would be just right?

Hence why she was simply enjoying the sensation of dirt on her skin; damp enough to form a shape when pressed, but dry enough not to stick.

A slight tickling sensation on her smallest finger, buried under the soil, made her lift her gaze to see a pale, wriggling string crawl its way across the dirt. A worm friend!

Kore flipped onto her stomach and gently patted the worm. Mm, yes. This was some good soil her husband got her if there were worm friends to find.

The little worm stilled at her touch. Its back end lifted and made what looked like a “come here” gesture before it disappeared under the dirt.

Curious, Kore carefully dug a hole around the worm until she found a small, dead plant. She cradled it in her hands. It was a limp, vine-like stem with wrinkly brown tubes clustered along it. There were no roots, suggesting it had been plucked before being buried there.

Kore smiled. Here was her answer.

She closed her eyes and felt energy, warmth, and light pulse into the plant, which she lowered to the ground so it could take root. She let it stand on its own once it had the strength, and she could hear the soft crinkle of petals regaining their vigor.

She opened her eyes and admired the clusters of red tube-shaped flowers on the bush. It wasn’t very big at all, especially in this huge cavern, but the fiery red blossoms seemed to glow like a real fire in the cool darkness. “Erica flowers,” she said. Then, calling over her shoulder: “In the language of flowers, they mean ‘loneliness’. I don’t suppose you knew that, did you?”

There was a clattering sound, like a rock balanced on a stalagmite had been knocked over suddenly. Then Hades was standing next to her. “How did you know I was here?”

“I always know when you’re here,” she replied, tapping the blooms and watching them bounce slightly at her touch.

“I was wearing my Helm of Darkness. Not even a god can sense me when I wear it.”

“Good thing I’m a goddess, then, eh?”

“Kore…” he stopped himself, and she looked up to see him worrying at the handle of his golden staff.

“It’s okay,” she grinned up at him. “I like it when you call me by my name.”

He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. She patted the ground beside her, and after a moment, he carefully lowered himself next to her. “The flowers of loneliness…” he hummed to himself.

“Why was it down here?” Kore asked.

“…I was out one day,” he replied, “working on the surface, when I came across a bushel much like this one. My… knowledge of flowers is limited, so flowers shaped like these were strange. I felt a strong draw to them, so I took a branch-full, only to remember too late that I can’t touch most living things. It died in my hand.” He stared hard at the flowers. “The flowers of loneliness,” he repeated. “I suppose it makes some sense.”

“What does?”

“We are alone when we die. A fitting end for a flower meant to symbolize this truth.”

Kore frowned. “Well…” she paused a moment. “I don’t know about that. Look at how many of them there are.” She took his boney hand and guided it to the cluster of red. “You can’t really say they’re alone when they’re bunched together like this. And even when you touched them, they all went together.” His fingertip brushed a blossom, and it didn’t wither. “So they might feel lonely, but they’re not actually as alone as they think they are.” Her hand closed around his and she looked into his eye sockets. “They’re not alone.”

The thrumming echo of dripping water rang in the silence as they looked at each other. Eye sockets, one closed and one wide open, stared into a pair of eyes full of life. His jaw bone was slightly slack, and her smile was warm and gentle.

After a moment, her smile turned a little mischievous. “So… why were you wearing your Helm of Darkness?”

Hades’ skull flushed. “I-it’s not strange for me to have it!”

“In your own territory?”

“I—! Well—! It… may be a habit at this point… when I watch you… it’s not creepy!”

“It isn’t,” Kore laughed. “It just means you’re shy.”

“The god of death is not shy!”

“The god of death is, however, someone who talks about himself in the third person.”

“That means the god of death knows that he’s important.”

The goddess of spring leaned lightly against her husband. “That, he is.”

“Strange woman.” He took a stronger hold of her hand.

“Stubborn old man.” She bumped his shoulder with her head.

***

A major inspiration for the flower I chose for this story came from the second Black Butler Musical, which featured a deep theme about Erica flowers and the loneliness of death. Erica flowers are also called heaths (which are different from but related to heather flowers), and after multiple Google searches, it seems the “fire heath” is the color that means loneliness. Most Erica flowers are white, purple, or pink, but those colors are generally more positive (purple does often mean solitude, though).

Roses, as we know, mean love, which would be perfect for Kore and Hades being in love (and married-ish?); and belladonnas are also called deadly nightshade, which is why it would have been thematic to the setting of the Underworld.

Kore calls Hades her husband, but I’m not actually sure if they’re married in our human sense of the term. Would they have an official “tying of the knot” or would it be more like just something they agree on that’s acknowledged by all the gods?

Where are all the spirits in the Underworld? … Ssh…

*points at the worm* WORM FRIEND! WORM FRIEND!

I originally wanted to include this somewhere in the story, but I imagine that Hades found the Erica flower the day before he saw Kore for the first time. Perfect timing!

Speaking of Hades and Kore, Hades would usually wear his Helm of Darkness when watching Kore from the shadows, and even though she’s bound to the Underworld now, the habit of feeling unseen is hard to break (he’s called the Unseen One for a reason, after all.) How is Kore able to sense him, even when most gods wouldn’t be able to? Perhaps something deeply entwines their souls, deeper than the magic of the helm.

Alright, I think those were the major things I wanted to say. With Ms. Emmibee’s permission, I’ll be posting this to my AO3 and FFN accounts soon. Thanks to invader-amethyst for sending out the spark for this story, and of course to Ms. Emmibee for coming up with this whole AU (and the AUs within that AU). I’ll see you around. Until then!

~~~~~

AAAAA I love this so much!!!!!!

1) I love how you always put meanings into the flowers!!

2) They’re definitely married in some sense; probably had a small, private ceremony with just them and some officiant. Or do gods need an officiant? They pretty much ARE the highest authority.

3) WORM FRIEND

4) I feel like Gaster is just going to be awkward no matter what universe he’s in. Sweet awkward man.

5) Please do post it! I can’t wait to see it!!!!!

Many thanks again for this wonderful story!!!

#OBMPfanfic #yours the author #also i love the 'stubborn old man' bit #so lovely #submission #greek gods au