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ohmy-kiszka · 2 years ago

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Decide On Us | Chapter Four

Song: Maybe After He’s Gone - The Zombies

Warnings: depression, drinking, self hate

Disclaimer: I’m not by any means claiming Jake has a drinking problem. It’s just what fit best within the plot.

1.2k words

*This whole chapter is in Jake’s POV*

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You’re finally coming home after such a long tour. You can’t say you’re too excited to be coming home. You can’t stop thinking about how she told you the news. “James and I are back together.” In all honesty, you’d blanked out as she finished speaking, unable to hear the rest of what she had to say. It struck a nerve deep inside you. For the first time ever, she hurt you. When You stepped through the door of your apartment, You realized she was gone. Every bit of her stuff. Everything was just gone. It wasn’t a shock after the way you’d treated her, but you were only trying to protect your friendship. Now you two don’t even have that.

You find yourself aimlessly scrolling through your phone, trying to distract yourself from the absence of Y/N. I wonder how she’s doing? You haven’t spoken to her since a week ago on the phone. Was she really happy with James? You wanted to believe she wasn’t, that through some twist of fate she only held those feelings for you. But you knew you were only hurting yourself the more you thought of her. She’s back with James, she doesn’t want you around, she loves him, not you.

“Do you think it looks good?” She’s asks looking at you with puppy dog eyes finally revealing her prom dress. Honestly you’d never seen a sight more beautiful. She truly took your breath away. “Because if not, I still have time to look for another.” She huffs out afraid of what you might say to her. “You look so gorgeous, really.” You say looking at her in disbelief. You wish she could see herself the way you see her. “You’re weird Kiszka.” She chuckles out, making a blush appear on your face. She was going to prom with the guy she’d gushed to you about since freshman year. She was so excited, you loved seeing her so happy. You’d planned to ask her to prom but her crush had beaten you to it. You were okay with it though, seeing how happy the situation made her. You’d sacrifice anything to see her light up that way. Even if it meant now staying out of her life while you watch her marry another.

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Since tour’s been over, You haven’t had much to distract yourself from thinking of her. She was everything to you. Now she’s just gone. How were you ever gonna make up for what you did to her? You wish you could just run to her. But you can’t. You just can’t bring yourself to ruin the happiness she’s now found in James. You wish she’d found that happiness in you.

Your self loathing has become ridiculous, pathetic even. But you couldn’t help it. You just wanted her. You hide your feelings behind the glass of whiskey that frequents your lips now. The warm feeling of the liquid running down your throat always helps you to forget the issues so prominent in your life. You hadn’t been out of the house since you’d gotten here over a week ago, unless of course to make liquor store runs. Josh had tried to push you to come out with him and the boys a few times. but you politely declined, knowing it wouldn’t be the same without her.

Josh had no idea why you were acting this way. He didn’t even know what happened between you and Y/N. All you told Josh when she left tour was that she “just has business to attend to at home.” All josh knew is he needs to help his twin. Help him get through whatever the fuck he’s going through. Which is why he’s sitting on your sofa right now, trying to force the whiskey away from your lips, with pleading eyes that say you don’t need to fall back on alcohol to get you through this, I’m here for you.

“So Jake I’m just really, just, I’ve been worried about you. You haven’t been the same since Y/N went home from tour. So what the fuck happened? Because it’s obvious there’s more to it than some business she had to attend to at home.” Your twin says to you with hopeful eyes, hoping telling him the whole story would somehow snap you out of the depression you’re in. “Nothing happened.” You snap out at him bringing the drink back up to your lips, taking a long sip. “That’s a lie.” Josh states, popping his index finger up in the air. “Do you really wanna know?” You calmly ask him. “Yes!” He shouts almost frustrated at the fact you’re not spilling everything to him. After all, aside from Y/N, he was the only person you’d always tell everything to. “Well I can’t tell you.” You sternly voice back. “Okay then, be that way. Just know I’m here whenever you actually want to talk.” Josh says, standing up from his position on the couch, walking over to open the door. “I love you brother.” Josh reassures you as he steps out the door. Tears well up in both of your eyes. Why were you being so aggressive towards him? He’s done nothing to you. You just pull the alcohol back to your lips, hoping it’ll soothe the tears that now run freely down your face.

“You know, I love drinking too, but sometimes it’s not the answer.” Y/N said to you, trying not to be too pushy, she was only looking out for you and didn’t want it to come out the wrong way. She’d always cared for you and wanted what was best. She hung the moon in your sky. It was a few days after your breakup with your first long term girlfriend. Your girlfriend had told you she was tired of you always having time for your band but not having that time for her. She also brought up the fact that you spent way too much time with Y/N. As much as you didn’t wanna admit it, that was the truth, you were always working on music with your brothers, and if you weren’t doing that, you were spending time with Y/N. You just didn’t have time for the kind of relationship she wanted, so she decided to end things and “give you some time.” To think about the way you’d treated her. Since the breakup though, you find your peace at the bottom of the bottle. Y/N was trying to be there for you, but you’d push her away, because honestly, you were ashamed. Ashamed that she wanted to be there for you and do anything in her power to help but all you wanted was the burn of liquor down your throat. The way she brought up your drinking habits, knowing it was your escape, was so sweet and pure. She truly cared deep for you. It had made you want to be completely sober then and there. But, as always, it took time to break habits like that. She was just proud of the progress you’d made little by little, and that truly warmed your heart.

You finally pull the glass away from your lips, thinking hard back to how Y/N so kindly help you out of your hazy state before. You wanted to be better, if not for you, for her. You knew that if there was any flicker of hope Y/N would re-enter your life, you’d at least want to sober up, and be the best friend you could be for her.

A/N: the next chapter is the last in this series. I promise it will be much longer than this short chapter though. I just wanted to show a little bit of Jake’s perspective, I hope y’all enjoyed 🫶

Tag list ~ @jakesgrapejuice @theweightofjake @cyliegvf

#jake kiszka #greta van fleet #jake kiszka x reader #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fanfiction

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ahsarah-tano · 3 years ago

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what i think the bad batch has nightmares about

**angst warning, happy suffering >:)**

hunter: hunter’s nightmares consist of flashbacks from leaving crosshair behind on kamino, and he wakes up with guilt and remorse flowing through him. sure, crosshair tried to kill them, but it wasn’t his fault and he’s still their brother. the flashbacks then fade into him leaving everyone behind, losing them all. and there’s nothing he can do about it. there’s nobody to blame, aside from himself.

echo: echo has ptsd from his time as a separatist prisoner, so his nightmares contain flashbacks from his sacrifice at the citadel, the painful abuse and experiments, and the enclosed spaces of the chamber he was caged in. sometimes he dreams about fives and his time with the 501st or the domino squad, but then he wakes up and only feels pain. he still has such a strong attachment to something that now feels like never happened.

tech: the pressure and anxiety that tech pushes on himself to do his job correctly works its way into his nightmares. like hunter, he dreams that he fails everyone because he wasn’t quick enough or he miscalculated something or he messed up something else he was in charge of. he can’t live with himself doing something wrong. that’s not who he was trained to be. if he’s not the smart guy then who is he?

wrecker: wrecker had plenty of nightmares since kaller. ever since his inhibitor chip started to malfunction, he’s had visions of him actually carrying out the order, blindly killing his brothers and little sister, and being unable to stop himself. though he thought that after the chip was removed things would be better, he was dead wrong. if anything, it made it worse. everyone had forgiven wrecker for what happened. everyone except himself.

crosshair: on the inside, crosshair has felt that he was encaged, trapped, and alone since his brothers left him. he dreams at night of his brothers and his time with them on missions and as cadets. sometimes omega’s face flows into his mind. he wants to see them again. he wants to come home. he wants to scream at himself to wake the hell up. but all he can do is sit and sulk while his brain falls apart.

omega: omega has never been happier since she joined the bad batch, but she constantly wonders to herself if she’d made the right choice, leaving the only life she’d ever known. at night, she jumps awake in a cold sweat, nearly in tears from the vision of losing everybody. all her brothers, even crosshair, leaving her. she’d be left alone in a galaxy that she doesn’t know. she’d be left with nothing.

bonus!

rex: rex has had nightmares from gruesome missions all throughout the war, but the repeating one originating from order 66 will haunt him up to the battle of endor. it was the day that he truly lost everything. he sees the faces of all the dead, lifeless men whose helmets him and ahsoka had to remove. with that, he remembers all the brothers he’d lost. he thinks about cody. he screams at himself for not listening to fives’ warnings. he mourns his general who is most likely dead. all those men died and for what?

howzer: howzer fears the empire. he doesn’t regret his decision to stand up against it, but he fears his upcoming punishment, and what will happen to him, his brothers, and ryloth itself, along with the rest of the galaxy. he lies awake at night, pondering over the very same question that rex has: what was the point of all of this? he’d pledged his loyalty to the republic, which was now dead. if his loyalty lived on without it and was pledged to something else, wouldn’t that be considered treason?

gregor: gregor may seem like the happy-go-lucky, kind-of-loopy guy, but he barely sleeps at night. even after his amnesia healed, he sees his old life in his nightmares. he remembers the battle of sarrish. he remembers all the screams, all the blood, all the explosions pounding through his ears, against his skull. he remembers all of it. sometimes he wishes that he couldn’t remember like on abafar.

#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #my thoughts #angst #sad :(#hunter #arc trooper echo #tech #wrecker #crosshair #omega #captian rex #commando gregor #captain howzer

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cerastes · 4 years ago

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May I request a review of general coolness and awesome of the horses we saw during the event?

Right, Maria Nearl event!

I liked the event quite a lot, though I do feel like it dropped the ball at the end. That aside, I had a lot of fun the entire time!

First of all, the cast was wonderful. Maria is explicitly not a powerful or skilled fighter to any degree that matters in the frame of strength the story takes place in, being definitely more skilled than the average person and even the average nameless knight, but being woefully outclassed by practically anyone that has a name in the Major. A humble mechanic with a heart drenched in justice, Maria doesn’t even like to fight, and adheres to a knightly ideal and a duty she must fulfill instead to justify her participation in these commercialized bloodsports, which carries the narrative. She is joined by a lovable cast of rambunctious family and family friends, who serve as her mentors and support: Her aunt, who is more akin to an older sister-slash-maternal figure, Zofia, who we are immediately shown is so close to Maria that the moment Maria made a big decision (the participation in the Major) without confirming with Zofia first, she immediately chastised her, wondering why she did not consult with her beforehand. Aunt Zofia is her aunt only due to technicality, as she’s a lady-in-waiting (or, in other words, belongs to a branch family of the Nearl clan, and is actually only 5 years older than Maria) and, more importantly, a decorated, retired competition knight who earned enough in her career that she can live comfortably for the rest of her life, ironically far outstripping the main Nearl house in terms of wealth. There’s also Kowal, an old Ursus mechanic, engineer and smith who mentors Maria in the ways of the wrench, willing to pass his workshop to Maria with her as his successor any day of the week, who himself also used to be a squire to V, an old, retired knight of old who served as Grandpa Nearl’s peerless sharpshooter and who trained Zofia back in the day. Finally, we have Old Marcin, owner of the cast’s favorite hangout, a little bar where he and Maria mediate the infinite squabbles, fights, and arguments that Kowal, V, and occasionally Zofia spark between one another. The event does a great work of introducing the dynamic between these five characters as something extremely domestic and comfortable: You can tell these five are tight and that they have spent a long time together. It’s just another day in their low profile lives when, suddenly, Maria dons Margaret’s old armor and decides to take arms for the main Nearl house, which is currently on the brink of ruin and about to lose its knighthood and nobility titles.

And this decision, and everything this decision means, informs everything that happens afterwards: Zofia tells Maria that if she’s worried about being left homeless, then that’s just foolishness, since Zofia is absolutely 100% ok with Maria moving in with her. She’s loaded. They can live comfortably for the rest of their lives without a concern. Kowal, likewise, insists that Maria is a good enough mechanic that she can earn a living by doing that. But, see, it’s not about a livelihood for Maria, it’s about preserving that for which Margaret and Grandpa Nearl fought and stood for, it’s never about the wealth, it’s about the name, the principle, not the glory, the weight of ideals that blood was shed to nourish and maintain. Maria is not even sure if she’s doing the right thing, but she’s got to do something. Why? Look no further than Uncle Mlynar. A bitter man, a corporate slave, spitting bile at her niece and apologies at his bosses. And the fact that it is very clear that this guy can kick some serious ass -- we never see him without his trusty blade hanging on his hip and, at the end, tells Margaret to square the hell up -- makes it all the sadder: In any other context, Mlynar might be a knight’s knight, hell, Margaret herself says she respects him still, but the Mlynar we see now is an unimportant cog in the capitalist system, just another grunt apologizing to his phone every time his lips part, who gets in hot water just by making small talk because, whoops, your workload accumulated again, better get chop chopping. Mlynar is a very telling character, because he represents everything Maria resents about the current state of the Nearl family: Disgraced, meaningless, existing as an extension of other bigger conglomerates. He is what she wishes to never become, and what the Nearl house cannot be any longer, if she has any saying on the matter.

Maria is not a good fighter. This is important and delightful, because she wins not due to aptitude, strength, or experience, she instead uses her knowledge as a mechanic, her “pegasian sight” (what Grandpa uses to refer to Maria’s incredibly powerful investigative faculties, being able to analyze situations and catch even the smallest details quickly) and the sheer heft of her brass pair of metaphorical horse balls to pull through with clutch victory after clutch victory. Zofia trying to cram as much fundamentals as she can on Maria in as little time as possible so she can survive also helps a lot.

Maria’s victories earn her the possibility of sponsorships, which would, superficially, fix her problems: The main Nearl house would retain status, she’d get a Title, and she would not have to fight anymore. But, see, this is not the point of Maria’s fight. One might say “Maria should’ve just taken the sponsorships”, but that’s not the point of Maria’s fight. She is pushing back against this highly commercialized view on “knighthood”, just like Margaret before her did. Margaret had a clear intent and her passions made her act mostly in anger, as she makes no secret: She hates Kazimierz for what it has become. Maria’s intent is less clear, even to herself, but she’s very much aiming for the same thing, but instead of Margaret’s anger, Maria has her determination. To have taken any sponsorship would have superficially kept the Nearl house afloat, but Maria is not looking to keep the house alone afloat, she’s looking to keep the house and the ideals in which it was built afloat. It goes beyond mere status.

In a world as bleak as Arknights’ and specially Kazimierz, Maria is no doubt naive to the point of frustration... But it is that which we call naive that makes a knight’s knight: Chivalry forged from ideals, sacrifice’s blunt borne from beliefs. The easy way out would’ve ultimately doomed her story, hence why she did not just move in with Zofia, hence why she did not just succeed Kowal and accept his workshop, hence why did not accept a sponsorship: It never was about that.

The very first event of the game, Grani’s Treasure, takes place in Kazimierz as well, but in the isolated outskirts, and we see hard-working, honest people, inhabitants of a nice little scenic hamlet. Now, we see what Kazimierz really looks like: A sprawling megalopolis of neon and concrete where the system shamelessly feeds on whoever sticks out their neck. The contrast couldn’t be harsher, and any hell is upheld by its demons: Czarny was a fascinating character, in that he very clearly held a lot of influence and power... And was extremely replaceable. The moment he messed up badly enough, he was instantly replaced by just whoever the hell picked up the phone next. It’s chilling. One puppet performed poorly? Irrelevant, there’s an endless supply who’ll take his place, provided enough fear and funds. Fear and money. The two currencies of Kazimierz. When a shadow council can just appoint you as the next Spokesman just on basis of you having picked up a phone without any real background check beyond “the previous Spokesman likely intended for this next sack of meat to pick up his phone in case he messed up”, well, congratulations, you’ve crafted a terrifying capitalist hellscape. No wonder Margaret hates Kazimierz so much, given the rot brewing in its underbelly and upper echelons.

And to all this, I have to say: It’s lovely. I loved the world building, implicit and explicit, I loved the cast, I love the themes explored and how characters were used to juxtapose these.

I feel it kinda drops the ball at the end by just... Not having a conclusion? It just sort of ends, which is very weird because events tend to be good at concluding themselves. I assumed we’d get some post-Challenge stages cutscenes to tie everything up like in the past but... No, not really, it didn’t happen. Margaret swoops in, the sisters perform the Ultimate Kamehameha on the Sarkazian Knights, and then it sort of ends one brief talk later. It needed a bigger epilogue, for sure. But this doesn’t ruin the event or anything, just a bit of a weak ending, everything else is still delightful and I loved it very much.

So yeah! The horses sure were wonderful!

#whiskas does stuff #arknights #maria nearl #arknights lore post

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dianapana · 3 years ago

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SH Day 13- Dating Apps AU

Something a bit shorter today, ngl i'm very tired, today was a long rough day, but I still don't really wanna miss a day if I can help it. I'm unsure however if i'll be able to post tomorrow and Sunday due to family stuff, but we shall see. ~Love, Dia

Rated T, Modern AU, OOC

@sasuhinamonth

She’s the kind of person that brings her laptop to my bar for free wi-fi while wearing sweat pants despite it being the weekend and super crowded. The kind of person that brings her own sandwich and hot tea, rather than order them from me. I’ve never seen her with her hair down or any make-up on unless she had a date, and no matter what she brought her dates to my bar because I was her safety net. All she had to do was order a rum and coke and I’d make the date disappear.

Hinata appeared out of thin air one day a few months ago. In the beginning, I just thought she was another pretty face in the crowd. I took a liking to her early on and figured she’d be another girl in whose pants I’ll get when I’m bored, maybe something with a bit more duration like a friends-with-benefits sort of situation. But that never happened, because even when we were talking there was always a wall between us, her eyes were most of the time glued to her laptop. It used to annoy me but I’ve grown used to it.

I wouldn’t have minded had she been a workaholic, but she uses her laptop for dating sites, always looking for someone. Her dates never go well no matter how hard she looked. More often than not the guys look nothing like their pictures, or most of their pictures were groups and it was ini mini miny moe between which of the dudes she was actually talking to. Other times they look like the picture but act nothing like they did online, in text they were nice and considerate and in reality, they are rude and close-minded.

“Why is it so hard to find a decent guy?”

She always whines to me, while sipping tea from her pink mug, I’ve moved past explaining to her that this was a café, that she should order her drinks and food here rather than bring them. I think about her question and wonder if I enter her category of ‘decent guys’ I wouldn’t be surprised if I didn’t really make the cut, just like I’ve seen her billion dates she too was there to witness a few hook-ups, a few girls slapping me, and even me dumping girls whose names I had forgotten.

“Maybe you’re not looking in the right place”

“Right…What online dating site do you use Sasuke?”

We help eye contact for a moment and then both of us rolled our eyes. I knew she was joking; I have never used a dating app or site or anything and in my opinion, maybe she’d be a little luckier if she looked around herself in real life, of course when I say this, I mean myself. I’d be lying if I said her constant rejection didn’t intrigue me, but that’s not the only thing that somehow pulls me towards her. I find her day-to-day attire charming, her endless search for love a little idealistic. I got so used to seeing her every day that whenever it is past 1 p.m. and she isn’t here in her pj pants sitting on one of the stools I worry. Hinata actually lives in the building right next door so I often go and check on her. I also found the reason why she comes to the café, her apartment building has no wifi, according to her and most young people that’s a crime, but the price is only half of what she’d pay anywhere else in Konoha so, some sacrifices need to be made.

“Do you think I should stop looking for a while?”

She asks that after each disastrous date. If I’m being honest the more time passes the less I enjoy seeing her waltz around looking all dolled up, holding onto the arm of some random guy that by the end of the night turns out to be a creep. Usually, I answer her question by quoting some random rom-coms that she watches whenever she’s not updating her profiles on dating sites. But today something’s different, her laptop is absent, and her hair is down, but the mug and pj pants were present as usual. It’s a strange combination of both versions of her that I know. The lack of laptop tells me she has made up her mind to take a break, which I am happy about, but she needs some validation that her choice is correct so I say. “Maybe”

Hinata replies with a nod. She looks oddly out of place without typing and staring at the screen. It seems like she doesn’t know what to do with her hands or where to let her eye wander. I know I might regret my net words but I say them nonetheless.

“Maybe it’s time you rise your head from that screen and actually look around, maybe you’ll find someone to your liking” I of course secretly hope that person will be me. Her eyes move and she looks straight at my face for what feels like the first time. I know that’s not a fact but something in her gaze looks different today so I offer her one of my famous smirks. My eyes almost pop out of my head when she slightly blushes, I want to poke fun at her ask her if she finally came around to the idea of me, but that would ruin things. I need to be more than a date.

#sasuhina #sasuhina month #sasuhina month 2021 #sasuhinamonth #sasuhinamonth2021 #shmonth #shmonth2021 #hinata #sasuke #susake uchiha #uchiha #hinata hyuuga #hyuuga #sasuhina facfic #fanfic #fanfiction #dia story #diawrites

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fell-into-silence · 3 years ago

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I wonder, what does the pizza at the megaplex taste like? I know there were clues they recycled most of it. Chica seems to like it but that’s because it’s chica she’s programmed that way. Freddy doesn’t need food so he doesn’t eat it. Not sure about Roxy and Monty tho.

Hey @blueinvader ! Hmm that’s a good question-probably not so great considering they probably did recycle the pizza and used ‘not real meat’ as a topping besides pepperoni. Chica would literally eat anything that’s remotely considered food or edible again because of her programming and how she always was about eating and related activities (baking with the cupcake etc). Technically all of them don’t need food to function, it’s more like whether they want to because they were playing with a child and pretended to eat to put up a facade that they ‘could’ or that they were alive. Monty would play along for kids to like him more and Chicka would cause she literally just loves to eat. Roxy would be self conscious of looking messy or gross so she’d pass either way-she wouldn’t like people watching her eat even if she could. And like you said Freddy wouldn’t feel the need to because he knows he doesn’t need to.

However, if Freddy could he’d probably really like a hamburger n cheese pizza (with American cheese, tomato sauce, hamburger and onions) or a steak n cheese style pizza (I figure freddy is the type of guy to like fusions of flavors and foods). Chica likes everything and anything I doubt she’d dislike anything since she literally binges through garbage XD but if I had to choose for her pepperoni is an all time classic she’d enjoy. Uhhh Monty would probably like Hawaiian style or a shrimp/char boiled clam pizza (I’m thinking more southern is his style) which he’d defend tooth and nail and insist that it’s delicious while going aggro because the others tease him about it. Roxanne is a wolf (literally and figuratively speaking) so she’d probably favor the meat lovers pizza (with REAL meat not fake) but eat it in private or take her time not to scarf it all down because heck she could eat an entire pizza by herself-and make Chica proud. Bonnie would love the all veggie pizza on the flip side (though he wouldn’t be opposed to eating meat) with a white sauce. Gregory wouldn’t be picky (all things considered) but he would generally like the same thing Freddy does-like father like son you know? Haha but he’d probably really like taco pizzas if I had to guess something specific (cause who don’t like tacos c’mon).

Uhh for fun if I had to guess for Sun he’d like cheese with extra cheese cause he’s silly and would love the pull of stringy cheese and would love to make kids laugh while he gets all messy with them. Moon would probably be that person to like mushrooms and olives and a bit of everything since you’d get a taste of all the things you like about pizza without the stress of deciding on one.

In my au verse the food would actually get surprisingly tastier-at first before Gregory the company had spent more money on the actual mall than the quality of its food or products, but after the big boom in customers after the whole our robots are actually alive reveal and Gregory becoming a bigger part of the performers lives things gradually got better. You can’t sacrifice quality for the sake of quantity (money wise), it won’t matter how fancy the place is if there isn’t a reason for people to want to come back-making better tasting food and merchandise will benefit the megaplex in the long run than in the moment. So with Gregory being a taste tester and walking advertisement the popularity and profit for Fazbear entertainment would skyrocket!

#fnaf security breach #fnaf sb ask #blueinvader #tranquil answers #the glamrocks #glamrock freddy #sb gregory #shooting stars au reference #shooting stars headcanon #shooting stars au

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quietmyfearswith · 4 years ago

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setting off ; stucky x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count — 2,463 words

summary — in which steve and bucky get the happy ending they deserve with their best doll.

warnings — implied smut, fluff, talks of starting a family, no curse word i think?

pairing — stucky x fem!reader

a/n — pretty self-indulgent lol,, feedback is appreciated and asks/messages are open!

tagging — @la-cey @pedropcl @iloveshawnieboi @isysen

masterlist | series masterlist | join my taglist (please follow the rules)

“Can someone at least give me a hint of where we’re going?” Y/N whined for what would be the fifth time in the last hour. She had been asleep for the first three hours of their travel, but now that she woke up she struggled to return to slumber so instead she ate some snacks as she begged her two boyfriends to give her a faint clue of where they were going.

Steve was currently driving to their destination; he was exceeding about five kilometers the stated speed limit, which was enough evidence that he was excited to reach the end of their trip. Thankfully, the pick-up truck they bought allowed two more passengers beside the driver in the front so she was sandwiched in between the two super soldiers.

“It’s not a surprise if we tell you where we’re headed, doll,” Bucky swatted her thigh playfully, before gulping down the rest of his water bottle. “It still would be,” She argued as she swatted his thigh too, “You can tell me the location of where we’re and I still would be surprised with the actual place we’re gonna be staying at.”

Pissed with her logic, his metal fingers tickled her sides, causing her to attempt pushing his hand away, giggling as she squirmed further into Steve’s side. “Stevie! He’s being mean to me again!”

“Knock it off, you two!” Steve scolded them, chuckling to himself when they settled down immediately and both pouted at him. “Are you sure you’re our boyfriends and not our babysitter?” Bucky giggled at her comment, even pecked her cheek to show how proud he was of her remark.

The former Captain America playfully rolled his eyes as he sighed, “And here I was pulling up to our destination when I should have gone here alone and not show you the present we got you.” Upon registering his words, she sat up straight and twisted left and right as she excitedly asked, “Your present? What did you get me? Please give me a clue! Please, please, please!”

Bucky laughed at her pumped up state, bopping her nose he assured her, “Well the only clue we’ll give is that we looked and searched hard for this gift of yours — we knew you had to have the best one.” Pouting and nose scrunching up in confusion, she turned to Steve and before she could even speak, he was already saying, “What Buck said is true, we hope you like our present.”

Pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek — she wanted to kiss his lips but didn’t want to distract him from driving — then a short, teasing kiss on Bucky’s lips she reassured them, “You both know I will always appreciate whatever it is you give me.”

Covering her eyes with his flesh hand, the former Winter Soldier smirked, “Well the only way to find out is when you see it. Keep your eyes closed for a while okay?” She whined but was quickly being shushed, “We’re pulling in now and you’re about to see your present!”

Once she felt the car come to a stop, she clawed at the hand that was shielding her from seeing her present as she thought she was permitted to look at it. But as she was being guided out of the truck with the hand still covering her eyes, she felt that maybe it still wasn’t the cue for her to see it.

“Okay stand there, are you alright?” Steve asked after guiding her to stand at a certain angle. “I’m fine, Steve! Now show me already! I’m getting impatient,” She was about to beg their ears off until Bucky slid his hand out of her eyes and she gasped out upon seeing the house. “Here you go, doll. Our brand new home.”

Her eyes became glossy as tears were peeking out, as she turned over to them and choked out, “A lake house?” Steve nodded, wiping the tears off her eyes before they got the chance to spill and kissed her lips, “Yes, doll. Your dream lake house.”

“We chose a secluded one so that way no one can complain when we’re too loud at night,” Bucky’s cocky reply was short-lived since Steve hit his arm which only made their girl laugh and hug them both. The two took her tight hug as a sign that she loved it. Removing himself early from the hug, Steve called, “Come on now! We still need to show you around the house!”

With every step she took, she clung onto each of her boyfriends’ hands tightly. The white coat of the house made her feel even more serene. Having multiple levels, she wondered about how many rooms there were, “How many floors and rooms are there? There seems to be way too many.”

“Five rooms, excluding the game and theater room that is. And there are two stories plus the basement.” Steve recalled as he opened the front door, the sight of the living room immediately greeted her. Soft couches, neat fireplace, and bookshelves beside a vinyl player greeted her. Sitting down on one of the seats, she giggled when the mattress was soft enough that it almost engulfed her completely, “I love this so much!”

Bucky picked her up and hoisted her over his shoulder, “Wait ‘til you see the kitchen!” Placing her back to stand on her toes, he showed her how they fulfilled her dream kitchen of having two refrigerators, two ovens topped with an incredible gas stove, as well as a spacious countertop for when she baked and cooked for them. Smiling, she hugged Bucky and kissed his bearded cheek, “I love it so much! ‘M gonna stay here all the time now.”

Perking up at her statement, Steve smirked as he offered his arm for her to hold on to, “May I show you my favorite part of the house?” Finding it silly with how fancy he was being, she tangled an arm around his, while her other arm stretched out for Bucky to hold on to and his bionic hand laced with hers, “I’d love to see it, Mr. Rogers.”

Opening the black, wooden door, she was shown the master bedroom with a bed large enough to accommodate the three of them. “You cheeky bubba! The bedroom?!” She laughed as she plopped herself down on the soft mattress.

You’d think despite them being centenarians they would be stiff and boring, but the way they jumped in the bed and tickled her sides or rubbed their beards on her neck to elicit even more giggles from her suggested that they were more lively than you would suspect.

“Stop! I concede,” The last word was prolonged into a squeal with the way they were attacking her gently. Taking mercy on her, they stopped as they laid beside her, an arm draped over her figure as they traced her skin with their fingertips.

“I love it,” She spoke, filling the tranquil silence, “Thank you so much for this. I love you both so much.” Bucky cleared his throat and kissed her tricep, “Well this was something we hoped you’d love. And something we wanted to give you, as a thank you.”

Both super soldiers agreed not to mention the little part he slipped up; Steve smacked his flesh hand and groaned a bit. “As a thank you?” She sat up as her eyes shifted over between the two men. They followed her as they sat down too and explained to her, “Buck and I have come to realize how much you have sacrifice for us.”

“The way you stood up for me when the whole Accords happened,” Bucky continued and recalled how she stopped their airport battle when she stopped them upon uncovering the truth and seizing Zemo for discovering his plans. “You fought and stood up for me when everyone else was convinced I was the bad guy.”

Her hand caressed his cheek — her touch had cured him of his terrible association with physical contact. Images of when HYDRA treated him horribly in Bucky’s own time vanished from his mind every time he physically came in contact with someone thanks to her gentle handling of him and her incredible patience. He nuzzled his cheek into her palm, she was about to speak until Steve spoke up, “When we said that we wanted to step down from being Avengers, it was because of you.”

“Me?” This shook her to her core. She knew about their exhaustion with all the fighting that they had to do in order to save the world — everytime they needed to be patched up and taken care of, she’d done all that for them without complaints. But never did she imagine they would quit being part of the team for her, “I’m so sorry if I made it feel like you have to do all this for me.”

Sensing her panicked state, they both calmed her down as Steve rubbed her thighs while Bucky massaged her shoulders to settle her squirming body, “It’s not like that, doll. I should have been clearer with what I meant.”

Managing to relax, she looked up at Steve with her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, encouraging him to speak his mind, “Buck and I talked about how tired we are. All this fighting — even though they all were for a good cause, of course — has started to take a toll on us. Not just physically, but emotionally as well,” He cleared his throat as he felt himself beginning to tear up, “It was evident that we badly needed an exit from this lifestyle that was forced upon us.”

“But we somehow got a hint that maybe there would be no way out for us,” Bucky continued when Steve stared at him to go on, Y/N too followed his gaze and looked at him, “That maybe it was set in stone that our fate would be to fight in battle forever.” Her heart clenched and fell into pieces at that thought. “What a cruel fate that would be, love,” She sympathized.

“Then you came along,” Steve resumed with a smile on his lips, “We now found a reason to keep going and fighting. Because we wanted you to live safely and feely.” She thought that what he said would be impossible to top off with the way her heart was beating wildly against her chest, lips pursing as she pouted in adoration. But Bucky wasn’t going to let anyone — not even Steve — outdo him so he pressed a kiss on the top of her head as he spoke sincerely, “We wanted to give you the life you deserve. A life far from danger and uncertainty. So we bought this secluded lake house — giving us the chance to be ourselves and do whatever we want.”

What Bucky said was a close runner up to Steve’s words and she couldn't help but coo at their word as she tried her best to wrap her smaller arms around their hulking figures, “I love you both! So so so so much! I’m incredibly blessed to have the two of you in my life!” Wanting to snap out of their dreamy state, Steve clapped his hands, “Well how about we prepare our lunch.”

Excited at the thought of preparing a meal in her new kitchen, Y/N jumped off the bed with a smile as she scurried off to the kitchen, “I’m gonna make us some sandwiches!” As the two two super soldiers looked at each other after both taking note of how excited their girl was they both thought of the same thing — they made the right and best decision.

After munching down the delicious turkey avocado sandwich with chipotle mayonnaise, they all retired to the deck; both Steve and Bucky were lounging around on one of their chaise lounge chairs as they were clad in their swim shorts while Y/N swam around for a bit on the clear, warm water.

“I can get used to always swimming,” She stated once she reached the top of the pool’s ladder and walked towards them, sitting down on Steve’s lap as she drank some of the iced tea they had prepared. “I, on the other hand, know that I can get used to seeing you in your swimsuit,” Bucky wolf whistled as he openly gawked at her bikini-clad figure.

Despite being with them for quite a few years now and getting used to Bucky’s playful behavior, she still gets bashful when she’s on the receiving end of Bucky’s silver tongue. She clicked her tongue at him as an attempt to weakly silence him, “Bucky Barnes! You and your silver tongue; someday I will catch you off guard the way you do to me.”

Steve decided to join in but unfortunately it didn’t help her cause, “Oh doll, I love you but we all know you get flustered even at the mere thought of flirting at us.” His arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he placed a kiss on her shoulder, as if he was comforting her; which Bucky found amusing as he chuckled. She hit Steve's shoulder as she scowled at Bucky, the two then decided to end their playful banter against their girl.

Upon being signalled to pull his chair closer to where Steve was sat, Y/N played with Bucky's metal fingers as she laid her head on her other boyfriend’s chest, “I love you both. Really, I do,” She lifted her head to kiss Steve’s slightly chapped lips deeply before muttering, “I love you, Steve.” To which he said the same without missing a beat.

“I love you, Bucky,” She declared before leaning over to kiss his lips with the same passion and vigour. “Can’t wait for this new chapter that’s waiting for us,” She sighed out, blissed and content.

Steve’s warm palm caressed her stomach as he spoke with hope, “Who knows? Maybe we can start our family now.” She knew it was something he wanted — even way back in the 40’s he was already hopeful for a family of his own. Bucky, however, always wanting to spite and retort Steve just for the sake of it quickly countered, “Or maybe just adopt a bunch of dogs so the house isn’t too quiet.”

Y/N laughed when both her boyfriends stuck their tongue out and made silly faces to tease each other even more; breaking up their fight, she turned to them and reassured them, “No matter what lies ahead, I know we all can agree that we will venture it together.” And the silence laced with the content smiles they had on their faces gave her the confirmation that indeed, they will go through it all together.

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shivasdarknight · 2 years ago

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what was your WoL’s love interest’s first impression of them? What about the second time they met? How long was it between their meeting and their first date? First kiss?

THIS IS GENUINELY SO FUNNY WHEN YOU LOOK AT THEN VS NOW BUT LIKE

Ooohh god I’m just going to break it down by partner in chronological order of meeting them, and hitting every point with each person.

Which means first up is:

Estinien

Surkukteni is a canon dragoon, so she and Estinien met first. And genuinely the funniest out of these, because he didn’t think much of her and the absolute most was she was obnoxious. There is an 8 year age difference between them - 24 vs 32 in ARR - and it’s a 30yo guy dealing with a plucky, obnoxious and power hungry 20-something. But it wasn’t just that it was a 20-something, Surkukteni’s canon has two potential candidates for that title: Lillith, as well! It was really unsure who would get the eye, so the two worked together and he just saw them as sort of a joint headache.

But the more it became clear that the Eye chose Surkukteni, the more it forced them to deal with each other. A few times during the timeline of DRG30-50, Surkukteni actually tried to reach out to him a few times because despite having her own allies in the other eventual Warriors of Light, she’s without many connections and really wayward. Her allies are Eorzeans, she’s Othardian. So even if it was yet another Eorzean, she still wanted to at least try to make that connection - especially because if she could make it a good one, she’d at least have someone powerful in Ishgard that wouldn’t go after her the way the See went after the Orl. He’s one of the first people she even tells about her auri nature, as this was when she was running around in that hyuran glamour of hers. And I have a fic about that exact exchange! But basically, it was just the start of a slow building friendship and rivalry that took a while to figure out the back and forth with.

So with that in mind, the timespan between first meeting and first date (technically) was almost five years. None of this happened until Post-Shadowbringers. Part of that is because they had a major falling out in Heavensward because of how he is during that, and they didn’t reconcile until the DRG70 quests in Stormblood, but at that point they were already in a friends-with-benefits arrangement! They didn’t start properly seeing each other until literally right before the Seat of Sacrifice. First kiss was during Stormblood, so two-three years, something like that. And that was a drunk kiss while traveling together which....also happened to be their first time because fucking oops. That’s a draft I’m working on, so I’m just going to leave it at that.

But I need you to understand that since DRG50, Estinien has had major feelings for Surkukteni. The whole fucking time. So even though it took them until Stormblood to get touchy-feely, and Post-Shadowbringers to get feelsy - he had it bad the whole time. And he was in major denial over it because this was the first time he’d had strong feelings for a woman as he’s really masc-leaning and had only ever been interested in men prior to that. Traveling together helped nothing, and he just wound up completely head over heels and a fucking mess. Yet, he refused to say anything unless she said something first due to the severe trauma she has around this kind of thing. So, he resolved himself to stay quiet until she confessed in 5.3.

Ysayle

This one’s also funny because they started off as enemies. Truly, a wonderful enemies-to-lovers outcome. It’s the canon stuff of course, but Ysayle was always kind of intrigued by the Warriors of Light - Surkukteni, especially. Part of this is because Ysayle knew about the tragedy of the Orl tribe and wondered why a Xaela would willingly ally herself not only with the Eorzean Alliance, but the See as well? And so far as to become an Azure Dragoon? It was curious to say the least, but it did leave her extremely interested - especially after the confrontation at Akh Afah. But she’d be lying if she denied the fact that her interest came from the fact that Surkukteni was and still remains a very vocal supporter of the Eorzean tribes and frequently took matters into her own hands when it concerned the fair treatment of the many peoples of Aldenard, and were it not for her affiliation with Ishgard, Ysayle got the (correct) idea that the two would be aligned ideologically and was interested in swaying her to her side.

And that actually happens. Not just in this heretic AU I have (lmfao i love that one), but once the two re-meet during Heavensward! The more the two talked, the closer they got - and more and more of Ysayle’s suspicions were correct, but she also found herself quickly falling for Surkukteni. They were history buffs and deeply invested in what was right - a strong morality even in spite of forces that’d try to stop them. Ysayle found herself falling for Surkukteni - her voice, her mannerisms, her convictions - and was really hoping to convince her to abandon her plight with the Alliance and Ishgard to work with her.

And then 3.0 happened.

It wasn’t until the end of 5.3 that the two were reunited, feelings left unspoken. For Ysayle, it was a perilous recovery process. For Surkukteni, it was four years of grieving and heartache. And wouldn’t you know it, I wrote about this reunion :) Their first kiss technically happens in a dream during Shadowbringers, but their first in person kiss is right after that reunion scene in Mor Dhona - which is outlined in that fic. And immediately after is technically their first date - Surkukteni showing Ysayle around Kugane - which is another draft I’m working on. The two were inevitably going to be together though, because they’re literally soulmates who are destined to run into each other one way or another and fall for each other - yet they’re the first cycle in many years to break the trend of tragedy they were immersed in, and just barely.

Aymeric

I genuinely think he’s the most normal out of the bunch, and that alone is very funny to me considering the circumstances. When the two first met, this was during Post-ARR and post “Surkukteni discarding the hyuran glamour now that no one could touch her”. He’d heard about her from Estinien and obvious word about the defacto leader of the Warriors of Light, but to meet her during political talks was surprising, to say the least. He could see the cockiness and pridefulness Estinien had described, yet he didn’t expect her to be intimidatingly quiet - that is, until the matter of the tribes came up and she immediately interrupted Alphinaud to assert her position on the matter. Needless to say, Aymeric was extremely intrigued and excited to see what would come of this. Working with her felt like an inevitability - as a Warrior of Light, and Azure Dragoon - but the true circumstances would eventually morph.

Their meetings were mostly professional at first, but he soon discovered that she was the one to take up the mantle of the new Dark Knight. But he also knew that if he played his hand too soon, she’d get skittish and stop trusting him. So began the long game of a back and forth through vague, cryptic letters to ascertain a working relationship where Surkukteni would act as a hitman for him - dealing with problematic Temple Knights that had time and time again evaded punishment for their awful behavior despite his repeated orders to have something done with them thanks to meddling down the chain of command. ...And transphobes. She killed a lot of transphobes for him.

I’d say their “second meeting” is not so much literal second, but when he properly invites her to his house to discuss the job in more frank detail in person. And now that she was honest with herself - and importantly, alone - it gave him a better idea of who she was and that just was all the more enticing and exciting. Not necessarily enticing in a sexual way, just the prospect of working with someone such as her and getting to know her as layer after layer of nonsense decorum was peeled off and he got to see her for herself. The dry wit, the sarcasm, an intelligence she kept reined in from too many folks belittling her. It was definitely a newfound respect that was earned, and the absolute beginnings of feelings he’d develop later.

Their first kiss would happen soon after he confessed, but it wasn’t really a nice one. Him confessing right after his attempted assassination and Ysayle’s seeming death set Surkukteni into a panic attack - as she was convinced she was cursed to have bad things happen to those she cared about. To be with Aymeric, she felt, was to sentence him to a fate similar to Ysayle’s. While she did show that she reciprocated his feelings - hence the kiss - it was more begging him to give her time to think on it and sort through her issues. She didn’t want to be with him considering how fucked up she was, and wanted time to work on herself before committing to anything. And to his credit, Aymeric was very graceful in letting her have the time that she needed. The two still met up to talk and do stuff together - that undercurrent of mutual feelings coloring everything - and....well, maybe stuff happens, but it’s not until 5.4 that they actually get together. And that also ropes in him and Estinien, so that’s fun. She’s definitely ripped him out of the office countless times before they were together as sort-of dates, but it was nothing super official as they didn’t want to risk hurting her again and reopening that trauma.

Venat

And this one’s funny because it’s totally backwards in the XIV game timeline. So Surkukteni meeting Venat for the first time isn’t the first time Venat’s met Surkukteni. So let’s just start with Elpis.

Beyond the fact it’s just Elpis, there were many things that struck Venat about Surkukteni upon meeting her - most notably, how much Surkukteni was like her then-partner, Charon. There was that fire, there was that passion - yet it tempered less in the sardonic fashion like Charon, and more tempered from repeated hurt. Even through all the turmoil that was clearly held within her, Venat still found it fascinating that Surkukteni kept going. More fascinating to find out that Surkukteni was Charon, just them reincarnated.

And then, everything. Venat - as Hydaelyn - watched for thousands of years as Charon’s soul (and Khione’s, by the way - her other lover) reincarnated over, and over, and over again - each time meeting worse and worse fates. The tipping point, truly, was Allag when they were known as Ammut, and Khione was known as Macchi. To watch those two suffer at the hands of the Empire, executed so cruelly by Ammut’s brother, Amon (worse: Charon and Hermes were siblings), it spurred Venat to do something the next time around. She kept the souls of them both with her for 3,000 years until the anger that fueled them finally died down, letting them reincarnate into Surkukteni and Ysayle. And it was then that it struck Venat that things would only grow worse - as this was the woman she’d met all those years ago, who carried such terrible burdens and grief. And even though Charon’s soul was split in twain - into Surkukteni and Katsuro - Venat would still do what she could to protect them and Khione. Thus, Surkukteni and Ysayle had her traveler’s sigil placed upon them in an attempt to keep the both of them safe (Katsuro got his by accident, as he and Surkukteni are Literally two halves of the same person).

It’s only until after Endwalker while Venat is slowly recovering from everything - as her soul was fucked nearly beyond repair, placed into an auracite, and had a body built around it by the Great Work alchemists - that the two actually pursue anything. There is a lot of reconciling the fact that Surkukteni is not Charon - as much as Venat misses them - but among the first things they do is something Surkukteni promised her during their fight: to personally show her around the world she fought so hard to protect. That gap between 6.0 and 6.1 is mostly that, as they’re both recovering from 6.0 and need a break. And it’s during this that things begin to build between Surkukteni and Venat - and Ysayle! - and they establish a relationship based on the present and not who they were formerly. First kiss? 6.2. Venat went to see the group off as they headed to the Void and gave Surkukteni a conjured scythe for her to use while in there (as this is the start of her shift to RPR). Completely taken aback and unsure how to thank her with words, Surkukteni surprises everyone - including Venat - by grabbing her and kissing her deeply. Estinien and Y’shtola don’t let her live that down.

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lisinfleur · 4 years ago

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Shelter

The request:

Author’s Notes | I took the chance for Day Felice’s new album and wrote it while listening to their song Shelter, if you guys want to listen to it while reading as well. I hope you guys enjoy it! (And the song too haha). Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | Viking Age AU, requested by anon. Words | 1878 ⁑ Warnings: Mentions to child abuse and abandonment. Wounds, blood, and some angst.

His chariot noise was always something that would help his mind to ease after any kind of arguing. And with his wife, it wasn't different. This morning he’d left after a huge discussion with her.

Why was Y/N so worried about a slave child?

Ivar insisted several times she should just forget the thing and let it go. It wasn't their responsibility! And more: by taking leftovers and water for that child every night, she was only making the little thing's suffering longer!

"It would be dead already if it wasn't for you, feeding it every night!" he remembered trying to insist.

But Y/N's was stone-headed! Every single night, there was his queen, dressing her cloak and leaving his castle - once a former church - to visit the thing that now wasn't moving places, of course.

Someone was feeding it, helping it, all the time! Why would it be stupid and leave it behind?

Ivar was getting used to passing by that child every day as if the girl was some kind of door or local decoration. But not for his wife. Not his Y/N and her heart blessed by Frigg.

She was a natural mother. He knew that! It was one of the reasons he chose her the love Y/N would show for any child she could have around.

But when she came with that stupid idea, it went too far for him.

"I'm going to take her home."

A thing.

A useless thing that wouldn't serve not even as a slave, so thin it was.

They've discussed it for hours. Ivar screamed at Y/N she was insane, perhaps touched by some local spirit. Y/N yelled he was an insensitive motherfucker who could fuck himself out of her room if he thought she would let a child starve to death on her door.

As always, their love was intense but also was their anger. And whenever they would yell at each other, one of them would end up hurt.

This time, it was her.

"I don't fucking care about what you think! It's cattle, Y/N! Cattle die! And that's it! I won't spend my supplies with a thing that can barely give anything back to us!"

Or maybe not.

Perhaps... It was him.

"Fine then. Let us guide her to the woods and leave her to the wolves, Ivar. Isn't it what we do with useless things? Oh, wait... Wasn't it what your father did to you?"

Their words would always hurt each other deeper than they wanted to hurt. Their hearts would regret the words said at the moment they’d left their mouths.

But this time, her words forced his eyes to look out of his chariot. And Ivar stopped it by the street near where that thing was sitting, observing. Trying to understand why his wife was trying so hard to save that starving child.

Why was she comparing them as if there was anything in common between him and a Saxon abandoned child?

It was early in the morning. He watched as the little girl unwrapped the leftovers his wife had given to her the last night. At first, Ivar thought the little hungry thing would, of course, eat everything without care. But he watched with surprise as she fractioned the little portion, eating a quarter of it and saving the rest for later.

It was an intelligent move... She wasn’t a wild animal, after all.

That would be a cold day. Ivar observed as the little one looked up to the sky. The sun was born behind some heavy clouds - probably some rain would be coming at night.

He watched as the little thing looked around, smartly stealing a barrel from the trash of a nearby store, checking on its wooden pieces to place it properly as a shelter. She was young and thin enough to fit into it. It would serve for the night and maybe keep her warm.

The owner of the store, so as some people who were passing by, pushed her here or there, complaining about her attempts to move between them. And Ivar watched as the little girl looked up from the ground to the bigger people around her, fearlessly.

She wasn't such a defenseless little thing as he thought she was.

In fact, she was pretty smarter than he thought a Saxon child could be, hiding her barrel between the mead barrels of the same store, covering its problems with some mud, so the owner wouldn't see it wasn't one of his barrels.

She wouldn't have her shelter for the night thrown away or broken before she could use it.

Ivar lost track of the time he spent there, watching the girl moving here and there, gathering stones and mud to imitate the shop owner's way of stocking his barrels and preserving hers.

But the important matters of the town had to be more important than his arguing with his wife, and with this, Ivar moved away from that place.

His mind wondered if that was the reason why his wife was so sure he and that child had something in common.

The little girl was a fighter like he was someday, indeed. She was fighting her way to keep herself alive and, perhaps, his precious Y/N was right, and death wasn't exactly the fate that child had in this world.

Ivar tried to get himself occupied during the day. But the truth was that his mind never stopped lingering over Y/N's words, passing over and over the things he had seen that morning.

When the night was threatening to come, the sky broke in water as he thought it would. But curiosity dragged him away from the path to his home.

Ivar wanted to see if the little girl's plan had gone right and what was his surprise when he found the little one sitting away from the store under the heavy rain, with nothing but a rag to cover herself and wounds everywhere.

The barrel she'd tried so hard to protect was shattered near the store's trash, and a fence was placed by the owner around his barrels with some spikes near the place she was sitting before. It was preventing her from having coverage under his roof, even from the outside.

That angered Ivar a little. He'd seen her hard work! And, in the end, her plan had failed. She was clearly beaten and wet from her head to her toes anyway.

However, his eyes caught something he wasn't expecting.

After eating the last piece of what his wife had given to her, the little girl extended the leather over a hole he watched her carve with her bare hands on the ground. Treated, the leather started to catch water and fill itself, becoming a bag into the hole. The little girl caught the bag before it could lose its content, tied the leather with a strand of her ragged trousers, and created a canteen from where she started drinking the rainwater, relieving her thirst.

She was beaten down, defeated. Yet, she didn't give up. She didn't lay her pride down. And found herself a way to turn that rain into a chance for her to survive one more day.

There was determination in her eyes.

That little thing wasn't being sustained by his wife's crumbs. No. She was fighting to the limit of her strength to survive.

Like he'd done someday...

Ivar's eyes filled with surprise when he could see himself in that little girl's wounds, dragging himself through the mud when everyone thought he would never move.

Standing, when everyone was expecting his legs to break and let him fall.

She was a fighter. And, maybe, Y/N was right. Perhaps it wasn't about a Saxon child or a useless slave. Perhaps the gods were showing him they've chosen that little thing, to give her a chance, to reward her for the fight she was putting on for her life.

"Get in," Ivar's voice sounded.

The little thin thing lifted her eyes to see the mighty Viking looking at her from the chariot everyone from her people was taught to fear. Her wounded little body could barely reach the top of its wheels when she got up to look at Ivar.

Her eyes into his, instigating even more the curiosity he was starting to have about that little Saxon thing.

How fierce would she be if raised under his roof?

But the little thing didn't get up on his chariot at once. Instead, she lowered herself, gathering more stones with her muddy and wounded hands.

"I said get in! Don't you see you'll end up dying under this rain?" Ivar complained, annoyed he was standing under such heavy and cold waters for a thing that dared to turn her back on him, carving the floor and placing the stones in a way the rain wouldn't destroy her little monument. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I must do it, sir," she mumbled.

Ivar could recognize a small stone monument in that little girl's construction. His people were used to rising those little towers to pray for the gods or place small sacrifices and offers.

Was Y/N teaching her about the gods?

"Why?" he asked as she tried to climb up on his chariot, struggling a little with the height and her wounded knees.

"It is for the lady who comes here every day," she mumbled. "I promised if I ever was to leave, I would leave one of these for her, so she would know I'm not dead."

For his wife.

She was leaving a stone monument for Y/N, so she wouldn't be worried...

"I don't know where you're taking me, king Ivar," she said, showing she knew who he was. "But I don't want her to be sad."

Ivar's heart ached. There was indeed something in common between him and that child. But not only the fact that both of them were survivors.

She didn't want his wife to be hurt.

And so didn't he.

"Cover yourself," he said, throwing his warm cloak around her.

It covered her like a blanket in which she rolled herself, nestling with a grateful smile.

"She was right," the little girl mumbled as Ivar started to ride his horses.

"What?" he asked, and she repeated, smiling at him.

"The lady was right." She said. "The gods were watching me. Maybe I passed their test."

Y/N was definitely teaching that girl. And Ivar sighed, looking at the road.

Perhaps it was a test for himself as well. Or Skuld just had decided to use him as a feather to write that little girl's fate differently.

"Skuld," he said, catching her eyes. "We shall name you Skuld. To honor the god that wrote your fate like this."

"Skuld," she tried.

Pronouncing it perfectly.

"Sounds strong... I like it!"

What a petulant little thing, Ivar thought. As if she had any choice on how things would be from now on. A giggle filled Ivar's mouth.

Y/N was right and he would remember apologising after coming home that night.

The little girl wasn’t a useless thing. And he had to admit.

She was like him, after all.

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justanotherpersonsuniverse · 3 years ago

Text

Demon Alya: Ladybug learns the truth

“Hold on a minute,” said Alya as she scrutinized the billiard-ball sized object on the bed in front of her. It glowed with several different shades of purple that swirled around each other just slightly faster than was comfortable to look at. “This is a very difficult case.”

Sitting next to her on the bed, Juleka stifled a giggle. “What’s your prognosis, Dr. Alya? Am I going to make it?”

Alya grinned at that. “Your soul looks mostly fine,” she said. Her tail flicked in pleasure; Alya liked it when her ‘cult’ — or, as she had learned to think of them, her friends — were doing well, and Juleka was one of the closest friends she had. Alya’s wings fluttered a little too, creating a slight breeze which blew a few strands of hair into Juleka’s face. Juleka blew them back with a mock-grimace while Alya chuckled and then continued. “No blemishes or spots that I can see. Just a little agitation. And as for what might cause that…” An idea came to her. “Are you planning on asking Rose out later?”

Juleka blushed, her skin reddening to the point where it almost matched Alya’s devilishly-red hue, and the colors in Juleka’s soul began swirling even faster. “Maybe,” she admitted. “I’ve been, um, trying to build up the courage for a week or so, but it’s hard.” Her hair drooped over her face, and this time she didn’t try to push it back. “She’s so amazing,” Juleka went on. “And I’m—“

“Also amazing,” Alya cut in. “And I’m not just saying that because you’re the best high priestess ever. I know that Rose likes girls who are kind, compassionate, wise, and have a strong moral code—and you’re four for four. Forget that prohibition against angels dating humans; if you ask her out, I’m certain she’ll say yes.”

Juleka smiled a little, but she said, “Everything you say makes sense, but I just have trouble making myself believe it. It’s hard to feel it, you know?”

“Yeah,” said Alya, thinking about one of her other friends. She’d been hanging out at Marinette’s house a couple hours ago, listening to the girl excitedly detail the pastries she was going to make for a charity bake sale, and she’d found herself wondering once again if she could risk revealing her true identity. It would be so easy to let her demonic veil fall and show Marinette her true form, and surely Marinette was kind enough and non-judgmental enough that she’d be able to see past the horns, wings, flickering tail…

But if she wasn’t, if Marinette panicked at learning that Alya was a literal demon from Hell, then the friendship would be over. And Alya couldn’t risk that. Even if Marinette didn’t do anything else (like call Ladybug to banish Alya back to Hell for the next few eons), Alya would be devastated to go through her time on Earth without being able to call on her best friend. And so Alya had once again decided the risk wasn’t worth it, no matter how much she yearned to be able to tell Marinette about her true self.

But even if she couldn’t solve her own problem, she was sure she could help her High Priestess. “Let me try,” said Alya as she cupped Juleka’s soul in her hands. “I think I can calm your soul enough that you can at least ask Rose without panicking halfway through.”

“Thanks,” said Juleka with gratitude in her voice. Alya could tell that she’d been worried about losing her nerve at the worst moment.

Alya focused on Juleka’s soul, reaching out with her demonic senses until she could feel Juleka’s love-fueled agitation. Then she began to exert her will on it. “Yield to me,” she chanted in quiet Latin. “You who have entrusted me with your soul, yield and let me calm you…”

After a few minutes, the colors in Juleka’s soul slowed down a little, and Juleka took a breath. “I feel better,” she said as a smile crept across her face. “Seriously. Thanks.”

“No problem,” said Alya as she continued to focus on Juleka’s soul to make sure no traces of agitation could remain and screw things up for her later.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Juleka said. “You told me that demons usually use their soul-influencing powers to torment the people whose souls they take, as part of their torture. You know, like making them fanatically loyal and ready to sacrifice everything else for their demon, or driving them into fits of rage, or things like that. But you use your powers to make me and the other people in your cult feel better and be more functional. Do you have different powers than other demons? Could other demons act like you if they wanted?”

“They could; my powers aren’t unique to me,” said Alya as she inspected Juleka’s soul again and noted that it was now in perfect order. “After all, any of the things I’ve done for you guys could be used to hurt someone. Take right now: I just calmed you down, and that’s good, but another demon could calm the soul of a soldier to mellow him out so much he couldn’t be roused to defend his position, resulting in the bad guys overrunning it. Or look at yesterday. Aurore was still feeling a grudge against Mireille for beating her to get that TV job, and she asked me to help her get over it so she didn’t get angry whenever Mireille was on TV. I was able to use my influence over her to make her more forgiving and remove that blemish in her soul, and everything was fine. But another demon could do the same thing on a judge so that judge decided to ‘forgive’ criminals and release them, even knowing they were going to commit more crimes.”

Juleka inclined her head. “I see. But I guess most demons stick to the more obvious types of harmful influence? Making people angry, or greedy, or things like that?”

“Yeah,” said Alya. “The seven deadlies are classics for a reason. They usually work for tempting and damning people, and they don’t require a lot of knowledge—make a human really angry and he’ll usually commit a sin. So they’re useful for demons who aren’t interested in humans, the ones who just want to bag their quota of souls and go back to Hell.” She grimaced. “But those demons are idiots. And the idea of squishing all humans down to being a bunch of angry, greedy jerks is just… it’s ridiculous.” She shook her head. “I mean, I was taught otherwise and I even believed that at first when I showed up here, but that crumbled as soon as I met actual people.”

“Specifically, Marinette,” Juleka noted.

Alya blushed a little, but said, “Not just her. So many of the humans I’ve met are amazing, and I’d rather help you be the best humans you can be than turn you all into a bunch of psycho cultists. Yes, there’s humans who are already awful, and I’ve got no problem yanking their souls and doing all the traditional devil stuff to them. You guys heard what I did to that exorcist who tried to banish me, I’m sure. But corrupting someone like you, or Mylene, or Alix… taking away what makes you girls unique so you can become yet another generically-terrible person… that would just be wrong, no matter what my bosses say.” She paused. “If you girls are in my cult, if I’ve got your souls, I want to use that to help you. Not torment you.”

“Well, you’re a pretty amazing demon yourself,” Juleka said. “And we appreciate that.”

Alya beamed at that. “I do try,” she said in a faux-haughty voice. “And as long as my high priestess continues to supply me with regular deliveries of Dupain-Cheng pastries and anime to watch, I’m sure I shall continue.”

Juleka laughed, then stilled herself while Alya picked up her soul and gently pressed it against her chest. After a moment the soul slid in through Juleka’s shirt and body, and Juleka gasped slightly at the now-recognizable (but, somehow, never totally familiar) feeling of suddenly being more ‘herself.’ Once her soul was back inside her, she let out a happy breath and said, “I really do feel calmer now. Thank you so much, Alya. I think I can ask Rose out without panicking.”

“Well, if you need any help, you know who to call.” Alya hopped off the bed and stretched, her wings flaring out and her tail flicking backwards to poke Juleka’s nose. Juleka giggled and playfully flicked at it, and it recoiled for a moment only to dart in and begin tickling her under her chin. Juleka quickly dissolved into helpless laughter.

Alya glanced back and smirked for a moment before laughing herself, and it took a moment before either of the two girls could stop. Then Juleka managed to get up, a silly grin still on her face. “I’ll look over the souls,” she said as she motioned to the large shelf where Alya kept the now-considerable number of souls from her ‘cult.’ “See if anyone has any new blemishes or spots.”

“Just don’t mix them up,” Alya said. “I remember the last time my little sisters got in here and put them all out of order, and then when Mylene needed her soul back for the day so she could go to church, she accidentally got Chloe’s soul and spent the whole service calling the priest ‘ridiculous’ because he kept asking for donations to buy fancy artwork for the church but wouldn’t commit to using any of the funds for actual charitable causes.”

“I won’t,” said Juleka. She went over to the shelf and began looking at the souls. First was Chloe’s, which was yellow and orange and vaguely spiky (though the spikes were gradually shrinking as Alya and the others worked to bring the prickly girl out of her shell). Then came Alix’s, which was pink and almost vibrating with energy, to the point where it actually bounced if dropped or tossed against a wall. (Alya knew this because Alix had idly tried to dribble her soul one day, and it had bounced around the room until it bonked Alya in the head, at which point Alya had instituted a no-dribbling-souls policy). Next was Nino’s, a gentle blue ball in a comfy little doll bed and had tiny headphones playing Nino’s favorite music. And so on, down the line.

While Juleka looked over the souls, Alya gathered up a few dishes and went to put them in the kitchen. Technically, it was the job of her cult to do any chores that she needed done — and it was Juleka’s job to manage the cult and make sure that happened — but Alya didn’t feel comfortable making them do that. Besides, Marlena would get mad, and—demon powers or not—Alya knew better than to disobey her.

Alya entered the kitchen as she idly whistled a tune she’d heard on the radio. Her little sisters were over at Nino’s house, which meant that there should have been nobody in the house who didn’t know that she was a demon, which meant she didn’t need to bother with her veil. As such, she was in her full demonic appearance, with red skin, horns, wings, cloven feet, and a flickering tail as she rinsed off the dishes.

And then, when she turned around, she saw Ladybug staring at her.

For a few moments Alya didn’t believe it. Then her mind almost crashed as she realized what was going on — that one of the superheroes, someone who wielded the power of the kwami and was more than capable of banishing her to Hell for half an eternity, knew her true nature — and scrambled to find a way out of it. But none came to mind. Ladybug was staring at her, Alya Cesaire, in her demonic form.

A half dozen potential options for escape flitted through Alya’s mind, but none survived a second of scrutiny. Ladybug was fast, strong, fiendishly clever, and she could summon magic objects which always somehow managed to be whatever she needed to catch her quarry. Then Alya thought if there were any possible ways to fight Ladybug and win — if she could throw Hellfire, or Whisper distractions, or draw on her cult — only to dismiss those ideas too. This was Ladybug. She couldn’t win a fight against her. And besides, even if she somehow did, that would leave Paris defenseless against Hawkmoth. It would leave her cult—her friends—without protection from that lunatic.

And so Alya didn’t run or fight. She just lowered her head and whispered, “Please don’t banish me…”

“I wasn’t going to banish you,” said Ladybug.

Alya blinked. “You weren’t?”

Ladybug shook her head. “If I was, I wouldn’t have waited for you to notice me,” she pointed out. “I’d have zapped you from a neighboring rooftop.” A slight smile appeared on her face. “You’ve fought alongside me for how long, Alya, and you think I’d give someone a free shot?”

Despite everything, Alya couldn’t help giggling. “No, you don’t usually subscribe to the ‘that akuma needs to have a fair chance of killing me or else it’s not honorable’ school of thought. You’re more about wanting to win.”

“Damn right,” said Ladybug, which made Alya smile a little more. Ladybug returned a smile of her own, though it quickly faded. “So no, I’m not here to banish you. But I do want to talk to you. I need to know what you’re doing in Paris. And if you’ve…” She took a breath. “If you’ve done anything that, as a hero, I would need to correct.”

Alya nodded, but then something occurred to her. “You don’t seem surprised that I’m, uh, who I am,” she said. “How long have you known?”

“About two weeks,” Ladybug said. “Do you remember how Mayor Bourgeois signed that law to bulldoze that forest preserve and put up a shopping mall?”

“Yeah,” Alya said.

“I knew that a local girl named Mylene cared a lot about saving the park, and I was worried that she might get akumatized once Bourgeois crushed her hopes,” said Ladybug. “I went to her and found her just in time to see one of Hawkmoth’s butterflies touch that pin in her hair. Before she actually got akumatized, though, I could see her trying to fight it off. And I could… sense, I guess… something helping her. Something was trying to keep her calm and urge her to fight off Hawkmoth’s promises.

“Whatever was helping her, it was able to keep her from giving in for long enough that I was able to get to her, smash the pin, and purify the akuma.” Ladybug shrugged. “She thanked me and said she felt better, but I could tell she was still a little tense, and that whatever was helping her was still influencing her. So I tried to follow that magic, and it led me to your apartment, where I looked in through the window to see… well, to see you, looking like that, holding a lilttle rainbow-colored ball and chanting something at it.”

Alya frowned as she thought back. “Wait a minute,” she said after a moment. “Two weeks ago, right? I remember. I was home when I saw her soul begin flashing red and vibrating, like something was attacking it. So I tried to calm it down.” Then, despite everything, a tiny smile spread across her face. “You’re saying I stopped her from being akumatized?” she said. “I didn’t even realize that was happening, but… I’m glad I was able to help.”

Ladybug nodded. “You did. But Alya, I need to know why. I talked to my kwami afterwards and she said this isn’t normal for demons; they don’t usually stop destruction in the human world unless there’s some ulterior motive. But you did stop her. So: why?”

Alya hesitated. “I mean, Mylene’s one of mine, you know? She’s in my cult and she’s my friend. I have to look out for her. I don’t usually like messing with my cult’s souls without their permission, but if one of them’s about to self-destruct, I can’t just sit back and let that happen.”

“Why not?” pressed Ladybug. “Isn’t that why demons come to Earth? To lead humans astray, get them to sin, and ultimately take their souls to Hell?”

Alya’s mouth opened but no sound came out.

“Alya,” Ladybug repeated. “This is important. If there’s some weird demonic plot going on, then as the protector of Paris, I need to be aware of it so I can derail it.”

“I know, but… I don’t want you to think less of me,” said Alya softly. “You’re an amazing hero and a good friend.”

Ladybug smiled a little at that, then went to Alya’s side. “I don’t want to think less of you either,” she said. “And I promise you, whatever I think, it’s not going to be influenced by your species. So just be honest with me, Alya. Tell me everything.”

Alya paused, again torn. But she finally said, “Okay. I will.”

The two girls sat at the kitchen table and then Alya said, “When I first came to Earth, it was exactly like you said. My job was to collect souls and that’s all I cared about. I figured I’d just find people, tempt them, grab their souls, and move on. That’s what most demons do.”

“So what changed?” Ladybug asked.

Alya blushed a little. “You might think this is stupid, but I met someone. This girl in my class. Her name’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Ladybug froze, though Alya didn’t understand why. She was pretty sure Ladybug knew Marinette; after all, Marinette had used the Mouse Miraculous once, which presumably meant Ladybug had given it to her. Then Ladybug shook her head. “What about Marinette?” she asked.

“She was so kind to me,” Alya said. “I was new to the human world, I didn’t have any friends or connections, but as soon as I got to school—that was my cover, I was a local student—she befriended me and helped me fit in. And… look, I know humans are nice to each other a lot, but in Hell, that never happens. Everyone’s always out for themselves. The only reason someone down there would help me is so I would owe them a debt or a favor. But Marinette was just so compassionate, so kind, and she genuinely didn’t care about being paid back.” Alya smiled a little dreamily. “She was amazing. And she made me want to… to be different.”

“Different how?” Ladybug asked, still seeming slightly stunned.

Alya shrugged. “She’s the kind of person who can… inspire people to live up to her example, I guess. At least, she inspired me that way. I loved her kindness, the way she so obviously cared for me and for others without worrying about herself, and I found that I wanted to be like that too. I wanted to keep feeling the way I felt when Marinette was kind to me, or when I was kind to her. And also, the idea of doing the standard demon thing, of using twisted magic to warp some innocent person into committing a heinous sin so I could seize their soul… it didn’t feel right anymore. It felt awful. Cruel. I couldn’t bear to be like that, not after having experienced real human kindness.”

“So m—Marinette’s kindness helped convince a demon to stop tempting people?” Ladybug asked.

“Yeah,” said Alya with a little chuckle. “Seriously, if you haven’t met her, you should. I think you two would be amazing friends.” Then Alya paused. “But, um, it wasn’t just Marinette. I don’t want to sound like a stalker or something. I made other human friends too and they also helped me be better.”

Ladybug seemed to shake herself, as if breaking out of a stupor. “So you don’t take souls for your bosses?” she asked.

“I do,” Alya admitted. “But only people who have already committed serious sins. Criminals and the like, especially the ones the police haven’t caught yet. I get their souls so I can fulfill my quota and stay up here on Earth, and I don’t mess with them too much. Mostly I just influence them so they won’t work with Hawkmoth by making them too despondent to respond to his summons, or too paranoid to trust his promises, or other things like that.”

Ladybug blinked. “Wait, that’s you?” she asked. “So that’s why Hawkmoth never worked with felons and why he’s just picking random people who happen to get mad one day! I would have figured they’d be the most likely to join him! That makes a lot more sense than my prior theory.”

“What was your prior theory?” Alya asked.

“That Hawkmoth is an idiot,” Ladybug said.

Alya couldn’t help giggling at that. “Well, he did summon Mr. Pigeon dozens of times, so that wasn’t a bad theory,” she joked. “The man is not as smart as he thinks.”

“Nope,” Ladybug agreed. “Seriously, I mean, the guy has total control over the powers he gives people, and yet half of them are useless. What was Reflektra even supposed to do? Make us look ridiculous while we kicked his butt? How does that help him?”

Both girls laughed before Ladybug brought the conversation back around. “If you’re really just targeting people who have already committed serious crimes—and making sure they don’t commit more—then that’s one thing,” she said. “But I do know you’re collecting the souls of others as well, like Mylene. Why is that?”

“To make sure other demons don’t get them,” Alya said. “I’m not the only one here. And I can’t tell you who the other demons are—literally, I’m under a demonic geas that will set me on fire if I say their names to someone who doesn't already know them—but I can tell you they’re a lot worse than me. The other demons have no problem at all with warping innocent people into Hellbound monsters. But if I get the souls of my friends first, the other demons can’t lay their claws on them.”

“Hmm.” Ladybug gave Alya a long look. “I imagine you had to trick these friends into losing their souls at first.”

“Yes,” Alya admitted. “Some made deals—Mylene wanted me to resurrect her pet ferret, for instance--but others, like Alix, lost bets or fell into a minor temptation I set up. I didn’t love doing that, but if I hadn’t, they’d be in the clutches of a far worse demon.” She shuddered at the thought of what Lila would have done.

“Now that they know the truth,” Ladybug went on, “If these friends wanted their souls back so they could leave your cult, would you let them?”

Alya hesitated. “It hasn’t come up,” she admitted. “They aren’t hurt by losing their souls, except that they can’t go into churches or do a couple other ‘holy’ things. And I don’t use my power over their souls to make them worse. I try to help them when they ask for help, instead.”

“Even so,” Ladybug went on. “If Mylene went to you tomorrow and said she wants out, what would you do?”

Alya was tempted to just lie and say that of course she’d return Mylene’s soul, but she had a feeling Ladybug would be able to sense that. So instead she tried to give the question as much thought as she could to come up with her honest response. “I’d be worried about her, and I’d try to convince her otherwise,” she said. “But if Mylene was adamant, I’d give her soul back. Some demons treat their cults like slaves or prisoners, but I can’t do that.”

“Because Marinette would disapprove?” Ladybug asked.

“Not just that,” Alya said. “Maybe for the first few days after I met her, but I’ve moved past that. My ‘cult’ are my friends and I wouldn’t keep them against their will.” She let out a breath. “But again, it hasn’t come up. Honestly, I think they like knowing that if something goes really wrong and they become upset or angry, there’s someone looking out for them who can calm or polish their souls. Especially Chloe. Her mother is… not great, and Chloe has panic attacks when she’s around. She was really happy when I said I could monitor her soul and try to soothe it when her mother came to visit.”

Ladybug carefully considered that. “You wouldn’t mind if I didn’t just take your word for it, right?” she asked.

“I can give you a list of the people in the cult,” Alya said. “You can ask them for yourself. Plus my high priestess Juleka; I don’t keep her soul on my shelf, since she’s got both warlock and paladin powers to defend it with—long story—but she'd be happy to talk to you about what I'm like.”

“Thanks,” Ladybug said.

The two were silent for a moment, and then Alya asked, “So… what now?”

“Well, now I need to talk to your cultists,” Ladybug said. “But assuming they verify what you said… I don’t see anything here that I’d need to banish you for. As far as I can tell, you really are trying to be a good a friend, and you’re doing a good job of it too. As long as you don’t take any innocent souls, and you don’t do anything abusive to your friends in your 'cult,' I don’t need to get involved.”

Alya felt a wave of relief rush through her. “Thank the Devil,” she breathed. “I’m glad.”

Ladybug smiled. “Out of curiosity, is being banished that bad?” she asked. “My kwami said it’s not permanent and you could come back once the spell wore off.”

“That could take centuries,” Alya said. “All the humans I knew would be dead by then. I couldn’t bear to lose them, especially Marinette.”

“Maybe you could see her after she dies,” Ladybug noted. “Her soul has to go somewhere, right?”

“It won’t go to where I’m from,” said Alya at once. “Seriously, I peaked at her soul once when I was sleeping over at her house and…” She smiled wistfully. “It was so incredibly pure… the purest I’d seen. No, she’s Heaven-bound for sure, and I won’t be able to see her once she dies because I’m not allowed up there. So I just… I want to make as much of my time on Earth with her, and all my other friends, as I can.”

Once again, Ladybug didn’t seem to know how to respond for some reason. Alya, though, thought of something else she really needed to say. “Speaking of Marinette,” she said. “I… look, I loved having the chance to help you fight Hawkmoth as Rena Rouge. I’d give anything to be able to do that again. But if you can’t trust me because of… of this…” She gestured at her horns and tail. “If you need a replacement, I’d suggest you look at her. The girl’s heart is so pure I can’t imagine Hawkmoth ever corrupting her, and not only is she strong, but she’s incredibly clever. Trust me, she’d be a great hero.”

Ladybug’s cheeks colored slightly. “Thank—I mean, I’m sure she’d thank you if she’d heard that,” she said. “But like I said, unless I learn that something you told me wasn’t true, I don’t see any reason to take your powers away from you. I’m happy to have your help in the battle against Hawkmoth. In more ways than one, apparently.” She smiled. “In fact, once you give me the list of the people whose souls you have, if I learn that one of them is getting upset or is likely to get mad about something, I hope it’s okay if I text you and ask you to check on their souls.”

“Of course,” said Alya at once. “Anytime you need.”

Ladybug nodded. “You’re a good friend, Alya,” she said. Then she turned on her heel before pausing. “Ah, one more question. You said you took your friend’s souls to protect them. Why not Marinette’s? You don’t have her soul, right?”

“No, I don’t,” said Alya. “I thought about it, because I know there’s other demons who would love nothing more than to corrupt someone as pure as her. But I…” She hesitated. “If I took her soul, she’d know what I really am. And I can’t bear the thought of her rejecting my friendship over that. She’s… she means a lot to me.”

“I see,” said Ladybug. “Well, I won’t spill your secret, but I’d encourage you to tell her. I know her pretty well, and trust me: she might surprise you.”

Alya smiled, though inwardly she wasn’t sure if even Marinette could be that tolerant. Still, though, Ladybug’s word had a lot of weight. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said at last. “And I’ll also keep a close eye on Marinette. I might not have her soul, but if I see demons moving to attack her I’ll do everything I can to hold them off. And I’ve got my paladin/warlock high priestess to help, plus this angel I know. We should be able to keep her safe.”

“An angel?” Ladybug repeated.

Alya grinned. “Yeah. I know demons and angels aren’t supposed to get along, but this one’s cool.”

“I don’t suppose Marinette influenced her too?” Ladybug said in a teasing voice.

“Marinette seems to influence everyone for the better,” Alya said. “Marinette will never know it, but yes, I think the angel is happy to know her too.”

“Why won’t Marinette know it?” Ladybug asked. “Are angels not allowed to reveal themselves?”

“It’s more that they only do so if they’re smiting an evildoer, or if they need to save a human from temptation,” Alya said. But Marinette’s so pure that she’s not really in any danger of that, so I don’t think she’ll be getting any angelic intervention unless she spontaneously gets tempted to rob a bank or something.” She giggled. “Which really isn’t like her.”

Ladybug laughed too, though she seemed slightly disappointed for some reason. “I need to get going,” she said. “I’ll see you later, Alya. Thanks again for all that you do.”

Alya waved as Ladybug launched herself back out the window. Then, feeling a bit overwhelmed, she went back to her room to tell Juleka everything.

——

The next day, Alya found herself invited to the Dupain-Cheng bakery. “Hey, girl!” said Alya as she walked inside. “What’s up?”

“Alya!” Marinette said. She ran over and exchanged hugs with her best friend. “I just came up with some new pastries and I wanted you to be the first to try them!”

“Anytime!” said Alya. “What’cha got?”

Marinette took a few pastries off the shelf. “This one here is a Mexican chocolate cake,” she said. “I remember you saying you liked the spicier pastries, so I made it with a little cayenne pepper. Please, try it!”

Alya bit into the cake and grinned as the fiery sweet flavor danced over her tongue. “This is really good,” she said. “Seriously. And—“

“Oh, there’s also this other one,” said Marinette suddenly. She took down a donut. “I wanted to get back to my roots a little,” she said. “But I also wanted to make something you’d like. So this is a cinnamon donut with green and red chilis, the sort you find in Hunan cuisine.” She handed it over. “What do you think?”

Alya tried the donut and gasped, because it was possibly the best thing she’d ever tasted. The sweetness matched the peppers perfectly. “This is amazing,” she said. “Damn, girl, you know how to bake. Although, I thought you said you guys weren’t working too hard on developing spicy pastries because your parents didn’t think they’d sell well?”

“I’m going to prove Maman wrong about that,” said Marinette firmly. “Because people who enjoy spicier deserts should be able to get treats they love, just like anyone else. I’ll make spicy treats that are so good they sell just as well as everything else we’ve got.”

Alya blushed. Marinette really was one of the kindest people around, she thought.

“Besides,” Marinette went on, “even if these didn’t sell, it’d still be worth making some for you. After all, you’re my best friend.” She moved closer to Alya. “You’re an amazing person and a wonderful friend,” she went on. “I don’t think anything could drive us apart.” She gave Alya a quick hug. “Maybe I don’t tell you that enough, but it’s true.”

“Um.” Alya wondered if Ladybug had maybe hinted to Marinette about some of the conversation they had. “Right back at’cha,” she said. “I think you’re a great friend too.”

Marinette smiled.

Alya hesitated, on the verge of asking Marinette to go somewhere private so she could remove her demon veil… but she still didn’t feel quite confident enough. Someday, she thought. But not just then. “If I”m so great,” she said, “maybe you could let me have a few more of these?”

“Have the whole tray!” Marinette chirped. “But one thing in response: the concentration of chilis is slightly different in each one, so I need you to rank them. That way I know which one is the best one!”

“You’ve got it!” Alya grinned and reached for another donut. She was truly blessed, she thought, to have a friend like Marinette.

——

Later that evening, Marinette was in her room with Tikki, trying to relax after a long day of helping her parents in the bakery.

“I’m just saying, Tikki,” Marinette said quietly, though her voice was light and she was clearly joking. Well, mostly joking. “It would just be one bank. I might get to see an angel, and then I could give the money right back!!”

“No, Marinette,” said Tikki in a stern voice.

“It could be a bank owned by bad people!” Marinette went on. “It—“

“No, Marinette,” Tikki repeated.

Marinette smiled softly. “I guess you’re right. But I hope I get to meet that angel anyways.” She blushed. “I can’t believe that I convinced a demon to be good.”

“You’re a very special person, Marinette,” said Tikki.

Marinette grinned before settling back on her bed. The idea of having helped to make Alya the amazing, compassionate warrior for good that she was… well, it was stunning. It made her feel really good.

Of course, as Alya had explained, there might be such a thing as being too good. “What if it wasn’t a bank, but it was just some jerk like XY?” Marinette asked.

“Marinette!” Tikki complained before tossing a pillow at her. “No sinning just to meet an angel!”

Marinette giggled. “I know,” she said. “Still, it’s fun to dream.”

Across the neighborhood, Alya was also dreaming. “Someday,” she promised herself as she thought of telling Marinette the truth. “I promise.”

“Hey, Alya,” called Juleka from across the room. “We’re about to start the show. You want in?”

“Sure!” Alya said. She scurried to the couch and slid down between Juleka and Mylene. And then she settled back to watch the show with some of her best friends in the world.

-------

AW THAT WAS WONDERFUL

I loved that thank you!

Just imagining this is how the akuma charms are made, via Alya being a smart cookie and smart soul user. That was just so delightful

#submission #demon alya au

34 notes · View notes

alottanothing · 3 years ago

Text

Kismet

Summary: Evie prepares a meal for the stranger who helped her and finds herself more than a little smitten.

Previous Part: Hope

Word Count: 5707

Warnings: Language

Tag List: @ramilicious, @txmel, @edteche2, @gloriousdarkangelsworld, @diasimar, @xmxisxforxmaybe (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: Okay, I almost didn't get this up today because I was up most of the night sewing kilts for Highland Weekend at the Ohio Renfiare. BUT I stayed awake and did my final read-through, so this should be mostly okay. I skipped a couple steps in my editing to get this up on time but I think, for the most part, it's okay. If you see a grammatical booboo, just ignore it, I'll get in here sometime this week with my other two editing steps and find it, then repost this. Capisce? Okay, cool...now. I hope you enjoy it, I also hope my trying to phonetically write Mer's accent doesn't get too annoying. I know you really shouldn't write accents, but I think it helps add to the characters. And I do try to keep it to a minimum so it doesn't get annoying. Thanks for the love the first part received last month! I know waiting so long between updates is a bit sad after weekly updates with LtR. But life is busy right now and once a month is all can guarantee.

Jonny did not know how to keep a house.

In fact, Jonny did not know how to do much more than drink, argue, and get into fights. He was nothing but a thorn in Evie's side—never mind how much she needed him for a place to lay her head. A necessary thorn was still a thorn. Given the opportunity, she would rip it out as soon as she could and dress the wound promptly so she was finally able to heal better. She stayed only because she had no other choice. And every time Jonny raised his voice or stumbled in reeking of alcohol and red-faced, Evie could hear her best friend's warning in her head. Cynthia had begged her not to go with him, but she hadn't listened.

Oh, how she wished she had.

Luckily, Jonny wasn't the kind of man who liked to stay home which eased the ache of the ever-present thorn in her side. Whatever money he did have, he spent out on the town—the town being New Orleans. Like Evie, Jonny had been born and raised in the Big Apple, the noise and the chaos was part of him. As such, he hadn't taken to the quiet suburban life Bridge City offered as well as Evie. She liked the quiet, easy flow of the sleepy town. Her housemate loathed his new home. He thrived in disarray, thus, he found a group of like-minded young men to run amok with in the neighboring metropolis every chance he got.

If Jonny had been any sort of amicable company, the notion of him leaving most every night to wreak havoc several miles away would have been upsetting. Thankfully, his penchant for city life meant a good portion of Evie's days were spent out from under Jonny's tyranny. The hours he was gone were blissful and calm, and she relished in them. Whether she was creating art or tending to chores around the old house, Evie didn't care as long as Jonny wasn't there—never mind how lonely the routine often was.

Evie had never gotten the chance to meet Jonny's maternal grandmother, though she suspected she would have liked to. Unlike her grandson, she seemed like any other sweet elderly woman judging by the furnishings she'd left behind. There were dozens of lace doilies, and table cloths with soft patterns, decretive china even, but it was the plethora of photos the old woman kept that told Evie she'd carried a kindly heart. All of them were kept in pristine albums or intricate frames; they were the only barbles that seemed to have been cleaned or dusted with any regularity which spoke of how much she must have treasured them. Evie loved those tiny trinkets and black and white memories. It didn't matter that they were not her legacy of family heirlooms to keep, she adored them anyway.

She couldn't count the number of times she'd replaced a broken frame that had fallen victim to Jonny's drunken belligerence or scrubbed tirelessly at a stain he'd left on the patterned tablecloths. It proved to be a hefty undertaking, but dwelling in the fantasies of someone else's history let her forget the grief of her own. She was willing to sacrifice a little elbow grease if it allowed her mind to roam away from the shadow that never really seemed to vanish.

For all the effort Evie put in on the interior, the cottage held little in the way of curb appeal. The porch was sunken in the middle, the paint was peeling off in chunks, and the yard was mostly weeds. Worst, however, was the screen door which squeaked so loudly, every dog in the neighborhood howled in protest every time someone crossed the threshold. The outside needed love that Evie simply didn't have the energy to lend. Despite the grit, however, the foundations were sturdy enough that she didn't worry. The cottage proved to be stronger than she looked—a feat Evie felt she had in common with the old house. And while it was a swell enough place to rest her head, it never truly felt like home. Home was somewhere safe, and as long as Jonny lived under that roof she wasn't safe. Not really.

Fortunately, Jonny wasn't home when Evie returned after her run-in with Mr. Shelton—Mer, she corrected herself with a hint of a giddy smile. Without her housemate there, her evening promised to be hopeful instead of lonely, and she wasted no time in figuring out what to make for dinner.

With her red pumps replaced by her worn-in slippers and her blue checkered apron secured around her waist, she set a pot of water to boil and dialed the phone conveniently located in the kitchen. Every evening she called her sister-in-law to pass the time and keep up on unimportant gossip back home; this time, however, Evie was excited to finally have some good news to share.

"You got the job, didn't you?" Cynthia Clarke asked on the other end, sounding hopeful. "I knew you would."

Evie grinned, still amazed how the sound of Cyn's voice always seemed to settle some of the ever-present anxieties buzzing in her head. She missed her friend so much.

"I didn't even say yes."

"Did you or did you not get the job?" Cynthia pressed.

"I did," Evie confirmed and her smile grew hearing her friend cheer on the other end of the phone.

"See! I knew it." Cynthia said. "My gut feeling is always right."

Evie rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly.

"I think I'm gonna like working there too, so that's good." she mused as she stood at the stove, eyeing the pot of water she’d set to boil.

"That's so great, Ev. I'm so proud of you." Cynthia paused before continuing. "So, what are you up to tonight? Avoiding Jonny?"

"Sorta," Evie nodded even though she knew her friend wouldn't see.

As she continued to watch her cooking pot of water she told Cynthia all about her trouble with Jonny's car and the man who'd been so kind to help her.

"Wait. You invited the stranger over who fixed the car?" Concern was heavy in Cyn's voice, and Evie half expected a lecture to follow.

Despite knowing each other since childhood, Cynthia had taken on the role of her protector since Evie's family was no longer in the picture. The war had claimed Evie's father, and brother—although they'd never found her brother, Jimmy after he disappeared behind enemy lines. Evie never lost hope that Jimmy would one day be found, Cynthia though, was certain her husband was never coming home. After Cyn’s brother, Charlie, died at Normandy Cynthia had difficulty believing anyone was going to make it home. As for Evie's mother, losing a child and her husband to the war was too much for her tender heart and she passed not long after. Ever since, Cynthia was overcome with the need to act as Evie's guardian.

"He wouldn't let me pay him," Evie explained. "So I'm making him dinner—it seemed like the least I could do."

"I suppose…." Cynthia didn't sound convinced, if anything she sounded slightly irritated there was no quick way for her to argue the logic. "Just be careful, Evie. You don't know this guy—he could be another Jonny Doyle. Or worse."

"He's not," Evie said quickly. She wanted nothing more than to tell her friend all about how benevolent Mer was, but she decided against it. Cynthia would only argue that point somehow.

A long pause followed, and Evie wedged the receiver between her ear and shoulder so her hands were free to work on the meal.

"So, what are you cooking?" This time, there was a hint of jest in her friend's tone when she spoke.

The art of cooking was one creative outlet that Evie struggled with, second only to music. In her youth, her mother did all the cooking—it was a passion of her mother's—thus Evie had done little more than watch in wonder as her mother whipped up meal after meal effortlessly. Breakfast she the meal she was probably best at, apple pies too, but anything beyond that Evie required a step by step guide to prepare. And even then she lacked confidence. Thankfully, when she'd fled south, she remembered to grab her mother's cookbook. It was a cumbersome tome with yellowed pages and notes scribbled into the margins: a piece of art itself cultivated over years of collecting recipe after recipe starting the moment her mother stepped off the boat that brought her from Ireland. And like a witch and her spellbook, Evie depended on it.

"Spaghetti with garlic bread," Evie admitted feeling as though the meal lacked a certain something.

Pasta was something she knew held a low degree of difficulty when it came to preparing. Surely she couldn't mess up pasta.

“Mmm, I can almost smell it,” Cynthia said.

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously,” Cyn replied. “You’re mom’s spaghetti recipe was always my favorite.”

A doleful smile pulled at the corners of her lips, thinking back to her mother happily cooking in the kitchen as she sang a Celtic tune. It seemed strange that those moments would never again play out, instead they’d become bittersweet memories Evie could only relive in her mind.

“Mine too,” she murmured, suddenly missing her family.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Evie’s mind roamed the dregs of her grief before blinking back into reality and the hope of something happy to come.

“I need to go, Cyn,” Evie told her friend with a sigh. “I don’t want to burn the garlic bread.”

Cynthia chuckled and said her goodbye, only after making Evie promise to call her in the morning to let her know how everything went.

With her second hand restored after hanging up, Evelyn reached for her mother’s cookbook to give the steps another look over to ensure she had done everything and added every herb and ingredient she was supposed to. She’d followed everything perfectly, even factoring in the little notes scribbled into the margins left there by her mother—those she smiled at fondly and traced the fading ink with her fingers. Everything was as it should be. Even so, without a taste, Evie knew the sauce she had prepared would never be as savory as what her mother made so effortlessly.

“You were the artist in the kitchen, Ma,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll stick to paper and canvas.”

For the smallest of a moment Evie thought she would hear the warmth of her mother’s laugh, and when it never came she sighed again, trying not to dwell on the shadows behind her. What mattered was the light ahead.

Despite her lack of confidence, the meal came together without any severe hiccups. The noodles were not overcooked, the sauce was a complementing mix of savory and sweet (though, as she had guessed after a tiny taste, was not nearly as good as her mother's) and the garlic bread was nicely golden. A small tingle of pride manifested in the form of a surprised, but satisfied, smile as she surveyed the dinner before her.

“Not bad, Ev,” she told herself, knowing her mother would have been delighted.

With the cooking done, Evie threw a glance over her shoulder to the clock mounted on the wall, triggering a surge of anxiety to bubble in her gut. Stranger, perhaps, was the amount of excitement coursing through her veins. It was as though all of her happiness was riding on whether or not she would see Merriell again. None of it made sense; the man was little more than a stranger. The coupling of nerves and delight was not a feeling that put her ill at ease, however. She trusted it. And it was that peculiar sensation that seemed to fuel her movements.

With a few minutes to spare, Evie wandered into the small bathroom to freshen up. She made sure her hair was still pinned the way she liked—up and pretty. Her make-up was holding up nicely despite the heat; all she needed was a fresh layer of lipstick to complete the illusion of a put-together young lady. It wasn't often she wore a dress with heels and a face of cosmetics—she liked to when the opportunity arose, but she was just as comfortable in a pair of old overalls and smudges of charcoal on her face.

Just as she wiggled back into her red pumps—discarding her worn-in house slippers with a couple of calculated kicks—a knock on the door signaled Merriells arrival. Immediately a grin curled onto Evie's lips and her heart began to pound an anxious-excited rhythm. A blush threatened to color her cheeks to give away the torrid muscle beating in her chest—her ever yearning heart already making leaps and bounds for a man she had known for mere hours.

Don't be ridiculous—she warned herself taking in a deep breath to curb the eagerness coursing in her veins. Untying her apron, she tossed it along with her discarded slippers and went to answer the door, taking one last deep breath to steady the fervor in her heart.

Merriell had changed and showered. The sweet bouquet of his shampoo coupled invitingly with the musk of the aftershave he'd chosen, making it difficult for Evie to keep from soaking in the scent he carried. His curls were still somewhat damp—too much moisture in the air to keep the heat from drying them on his way over—though they fought to spring back into their previous fluff. The grease-covered, jeans he'd been wearing had been replaced by a nice pair of tan slacks, and the buttoned shirt he wore was a soft shade of green that made his eyes glitter a deeper emerald as he stood under the glow of the porch light. All Evie could do was stare—utterly beguiled—every rational thought in her head lost to her.

Mer smirked, amused by her ogling. "Hiya."

Evie blinked, coming back to reality, suddenly feeling foolish, and uttered a nervous "hi" before swinging her arm to invite him inside.

"Come in."

Merriell's smile grew as he crossed the threshold, inhaling deeply. "Mm, smells tasty in here."

He gently forced a bottle into her hands as he passed on his way to investigate the savory smells in the kitchen.

"I wasn' sho what ya was makin', but I figured wine usually goes with anythin'."

"Oh, thank you." Evie glanced at the label, unable to read the French words printed there. "You didn't have to bring anything."

"I know," Mer shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to make a good impression."

There was something almost boyish when he smiled then—cheeks coloring pink ever-so-slightly—that made him even more of a mystery. One Evie was eager to solve.

"Well," she said placing the bottle on the kitchen table. "It should go perfectly with dinner."

His expression lost a hint of its boyish charm as it grew into a look of delight.

"Make yourself at home," Evie gestured vaguely between the table and the sofa in the living room as she ventured to the cabinet where the stemware was kept.

She placed two crystal glasses on the table along with the wine and retraced her steps to fetch some of the nicer china Jonny's grandmother had kept. Mer watched her, his gaze, gentle and attentive, and a little bit yearning as she methodically sat the table.

"Need help with anythin'?" he asked finally.

"Nope," She replied with a smile. "Everything is almost ready."

The hearty red sauce on the stove was beginning to boil again which told her it was hot enough to serve, and Evie eyed the pot with scrutiny, praying silently her attempt at cooking would go over well.

"I'll pour us a glass then," Mer announced.

"Great, lemme…" Evie spun to fish for the corkscrew in the drawer of misfit utensils, finding it, only to turn to see Merriell holding his lighter against the neck of the dark bottle just below the cork.

Before she could ask, a loud pop sounded, causing her to jump as the cork went flying.

"Oh my goodness!" she laughed, a little surprised, a little impressed. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Mer shrugged, a sly expression on his features, and left her question unanswered.

"How much ya want?" He held the open bottle over the top of her glass, waiting patiently.

"Enough," she said, tossing him a coy smirk without really meaning to.

He bit his lower lip as he smiled, chuckling under his breath when he poured a generous glass of red wine for each of them. She thanked him as he took his seat and grabbed his plate to dish out their dinner.

"How much pasta would you like?"

Mer's face lit with charm and mischief as he turned to face her.

"Enough," he grinned.

The expression on his face was playful, his smirk devious and amused by his own response and his cheekiness settled warmly in Evie's stomach. Not only did she revel in it, but she also played into his whimsy and scooped as much spaghetti into his plate as she could before coupling it with the savory sauce and a slice of bread.

Despite being only strangers, the atmosphere that bloomed that evening was not marked by any hint of bashfulness, instead, it was relaxed and amiable. Warmth that Evie had longed to dwell in again—that unrefutable kindness she'd lost with the passing of her family—flowed uninhibited from the man sitting adjacent to her. His conversation was cautious but still jovial and genuine. It was the first time since running south Evie could recall what life felt like without grief and fear weighing upon her. Merriell was a stranger, but she felt safe with him. Jonny had never made her feel that way.

"So," Evie spoke as she twirled the last bit of pasta with her fork. "What is it you do, Mr. Shelton?"

Mer cast her a look of disapproval—no doubt in retaliation to being addressed so formally—before his features softened back into a neutral, yet somehow still amused side smirk.

"Nothin' too excitin'," he stated vaguely. "The odd jobs are what I like ta do the most—like fixin' ya car this aftah noon."

Without really meaning to, Evie leaned forward, resting her elbow and chin on the table, utterly enchanted by the beautiful stranger at her table.

"You like to get your hands dirty, huh? Fixing things?" she was entirely too intrigued with the thought of what he could do with his hands.

He shrugged, suddenly modest after a foray of playfully arrogant smirks and glances. It made him abruptly twice as charming.

"I've always had a knack for it, I guess." Merriell finished the food on his plate with the help of his remaining garlic bread to mop up the sauce still left on his dish.

"What about you?" he asked after chewing. "Ya workin' anywhere?"

All at once, a proud smile lit up Evie's face. After all the excitement of seeing Merriell again, she'd almost forgotten about her good news.

"Actually, I just got a job today—the general store downtown, Southern Comfort."

Mer's face lit up too, "Birdie's place?"

"Yeah, you know it?" Of course, he knows it! She thought, Bridge City's population was slightly less than the number of people who lived in a single district back home in New York. Everyone knew everyone else.

"Sho do—I was practically raised there…ole Birdie's like a second mothah to me."

"Really?" Evie found a great deal of comfort in that notion. In fact the more she thought on it, the more she realized how similar the old woman and Mer were; they radiated the same magnetism and sincerity.

"Mmhm," he nodded, his eyes focusing elsewhere as the veil of memories danced across the contours of his features. "My mama used ta work there…once upon a time…"

"Does she still work there?"

Merriell's face lost a hit of its levity and he swallowed as though to fight off the onslaught of sudden emotion threatening to cast a shadow onto his expression.

"No…" he said softly. "She—uh—she died, about a year ago."

Shit!

Abruptly, sick knots twisted into Evie's stomach, feeling callous, but understanding of the quiet misery he hid under layers of charm and arrogance.

"Merriell, I'm…I'm sorry—I didn't mean…"

He met her eyes and cast her a quick smile—doleful, but enough to ease the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"It's okay," he reassured her, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a good gulp before changing the subject. "Birdie's great—you'll enjoy workin' for her."

"I hope so…" Evie said softly, still too embarrassed to meet Mer's glance longer than a second or two.

For the first time all night the atmosphere they shared felt cumbersome—perhaps more melancholy—than she'd wanted it to get. Evie sat, worrying her bottom lip, her fingers toying with a loose thread in the table cloth as she stole quick glances through her lashes in Mer's direction.

He was nursing the alcohol in his glass with the same sadness she'd caught plaguing him as he sat at the bar hours ago. And while Evie was eager to know if his grief stemmed only from the loss of his mother, or perhaps more, Merriell was still too much of a stranger to warrant such questions. It didn't matter how easy it was to be near him, she had not earned the right to know his narrative.

A soft sigh broke past her lips as she fought to find a way to properly allay the gloom that was quickly ruining an otherwise wonderful evening. It wasn't until her eyes found their desert sitting on the counter, waiting to save the day, that she perked up.

"Got any room for apple pie?" Evie asked with a hesitant smile. She hoped he wanted to stay long enough to have a slice, though she would not have blamed him for wanting to leave.

Immediately Mer perked up too, the shadows on his features retreating with the promise of something sweet.

"I was countin' on it—seems as how you promised a slice earlier," he said with a boyish grin.

When she stood, he did too, helping clear away their dinner plates, and letting them soak in the sink to be washed later. Evie cut them each a slice of apple pie and the delight on Mer’s face made her smile too seeing him lick his lips as his grin continued to grow. Catching that flash of his tongue was like a bolt of hot lightning striking her without warning; a blush rose so quickly on her cheeks Evie had to look away to keep the blunder a secret. Thankfully, the pie was more than enough to hold Merriell’s attention away from her.

“Mmmm… Almost looks too good to eat,” he said ogling the desert in front of him.

When Evie chanced a look his way, the expression on his face caused her to chuckle, “‘oughta be, I made one for my pa every year for his birthday since I was nine. It’s probably the only thing I have any confidence in making in the kitchen.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Mer quipped as he loaded his fork with as much pie as he could.

The moment he took a bite, his brows creased, and eyes closed as he chewed painfully slow. Those few seconds were like agony. Evie’s heart was pounding in her chest with so much anticipation she feared she might faint as she watched him sample the only thing she could actually make that was worth a damn.

“Fuck me, if that ain’t the best apple pie I’ve evah had the pleasure of tasting.”

A somewhat nervous, but relieved chuckle sounded in the back of Evelyn’s throat as she watched Merriell shovel a larger bite of pie into his mouth.

“Mmm… Yep. God damn delightful.”

“Stop,” Evie said sheepishly, suddenly afraid he was overselling his reaction to keep from hurting her feelings.

“No,” he wiped his mouth and leaned across the table to meet her gaze with a sincere expression that stole away all the doubt writhing in her stomach.

“I mean it. If I wasn’t so full of pasta, I’d eat that whole damn pie right now.”

“Well,” Evie grinned softly, trying not to let her blush color her cheeks too obviously. “Thank you. And you’re welcome to take the rest of it when you go.”

Excitement took form on his face with a smirk that was sweet but roguish all at once—a sort of debonair charm that amplified his magnetism—as if his bright eyes dark curls and razor-sharp jaw did not make him alluring enough already. Again she had to look away knowing the pink in her cheeks would be too strong to combat.

“Imma have ta take ya up on that offah. An’ I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout you every time I cut me a slice.”

That blush was unstoppable; her heart was suddenly so smitten, it felt as though butterflies were fluttering merrily in her stomach. She felt weightless with warmth and hope swelling in her bosom, fearing any slight breeze would carry her off. It was ridiculous how at ease Evie felt sitting there eating pie with a complete stranger. The conversation had been easy all night; even when it had delved into less savory topics he still made her feel comfortable. Evelyn had forgotten what it was like to be in the company of a man who wasn’t easy to anger, who was genuine and kind and wanted only to live in the moment.

For a time the whimsy of the atmosphere faded as the warmth in her heart ached, suddenly missing her brother James and Cynthia's brother Charlie. Both of them were good men, kind and genuine—like Merriell—but they had been swallowed by the rages of war. Brave young men were lost forever, while a man like Jonny Doyle was still alive How was that fair?

No matter how pleasant her thoughts could be, they always fell back to the grief that plagued her. She sighed, deeply, pushing those intrusive memories back into the depths of her mind so she could find joy once more in the moment with a kind stranger.

When Merrill finished his plate he made a beeline for the sink full of soaking dishes.

“Oh, no,” she said jumping to her feet. “I can do those.”

Merriell, however, shook his head. “Uh-uh, you did the cookin’, I can do the cleanin’.”

When Evie tried to argue, Mer simply shook his head, his grin amused but determined as he kept scrubbing the dirty dishes.

“Let me help at least,” she suggested. “I’ll dry and put them away.”

Before he could protest, she snatched the freshly rinsed dish from his hand and began wiping away the droplets of water clinging to the porcelain surface, throwing him a smug smirk that made him chuckle.

“Alright,“ he smirked.

She watched him for a moment not really paying attention to her task as he scrubbed the old plates clean, overcome with a blissful vision of peaceful domesticity. It made her stomach fill to the brim with whimsy and her heart was fluttering again; had this stranger bewitched her already? Or did what she feel bubbling lightly in her gut like a seltzer stem from an end to her loneliness—even if it was only for a few hours? Evelyn didn’t know. Nevertheless, she was intrigued with a profound feeling and she wanted to dwell in it for as long as she could.

Occasionally as he would hand a freshly washed dish her way, his calloused fingertips would brush against her skin, igniting a spark she didn’t know how to react to. It was more than an amicable tingle racing from the tips of her fingers right to her heart. And each time they touched, Merriell would cast her a gentle smile that held nothing more than his inherent charm and magnetism. She wondered if he felt it too, or if her need for companionship was playing a dirty trick on her.

When the dishes were all back in their usual places—the night drawing to a close—Evelyn realized she was not ready to say farewell to her Beautiful Stranger. She longed to stay up all night just chatting with him, she did not care about what, Evelyn only wanted to stay encompassed a while longer in the blissful warmth he brought into her life. Once he was gone, all she would be able to do was stay up and ponder the significance of those little touches and the sparks they brought.

Thankfully, Merriell lingered on the old rickety porch, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his plate of leftover pie, seeming to stall their inevitable departure.

“Well,” he said with a grin. “Thank you for invitin’ a stranger ovah for dinna.” He paused, glancing at the leftover pie in his hand. “Can’t recall ever having a better plate of pasta, an’ nothin’ evah gonna beat this pie.”

Evie quickly looked at her feet to hide another blush.

“It was the least I could do,” she told him before looking back to meet his eyes. “You have no idea how much of a savior you were this afternoon…”

A glint of concern flashed in his eye, his brows beginning to crease as his unspoken question lingered between them.

She thought about telling him—telling him how Jonny was nothing more than a throne in her side, and how much she cherished Merriells company—but Mer was still a stranger. It wasn’t right to unload so much onto someone she’d only known for a few hours.

Before Mer could offer any reply, the sound of screeching tires stole all their focus as an old wagon pulled along the curb—narrowly missing a collision with the mailbox. The rowdy passengers were laughing and shouting loud enough even before the door opened to let Jonny stumble out. He staggered on drunk feet and screamed a handful of profanities to his buddies in the car which made them all roar with laughter.

It was only after the wagon full of hooligans pulled away that Jonny began to stagger towards the house, and it was exactly then that Evie’s fluttering heart became consumed with panic.

She and Mer watched him cross the yard, unseen, both frozen: Evie in fear and Merriell in confusion. Jonny’s intoxication level inhibited him from taking notice of them until he was at the base of the steps leading onto the porch. Immediately, his eyes narrowed and he frowned.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Jonny, this is Mr. Merriell Shelton,” Evie said quickly, willing her voice not to shake.

The Doyle’s were not known for their hospitality, nor were they known to trust most people. Especially strangers.

“He helped me this afternoon with a bit of trouble I was having,” she explained vaguely, hoping to thwart any more suspicion. “I made him dinner to say thank you—he’s just about to leave.”

Jonny eyed Merriell, seizing him up as best he could through drunken lenses. Mer stood his ground, eyeing him back with a subtle intensity that never so much as cracked under Jonny’s scrutiny.

Finally, being the better man, Mer held out his hand in a friendly manner, “nice ta meet ya.”

Jonny cast a prolonged glare at Merriell's open hand, his brows furrowed and part of his lip hiked up in a sort of snarl. Instead of returning the kind gesture, Jonny made a show of spitting at his feet before tossing his heavy leer at Evelyn.

"Evie, do not invite any more strangers into my house. I don't care if they are dying." He shoved past them both, purposely bumping Mer's shoulder (most likely in hopes to start something) muttering as he went: "I don't trust any of these filthy southerners."

Shock sent Evie's jaw slack; this time the redness in her cheeks was a symptom of embarrassment instead of infatuation. She should have known Jonny would say something rude and uncouth. Without another thought, she grabbed Mer by his sleeve and pulled him across the lawn until they stood next to his truck parked along the curb.

"I am so sorry about him," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at Jonny's house, ashamed and angry.

Mer shrugged as he placed his partially eaten pie in the passenger seat through the open window before fixing his hands in his front pockets.

"Ya boyfriend's a bit of an asshole."

"He is not my boyfriend," Evie corrected vehemently. "I don't think he knows that though. I'm just staying here until I can figure some things out."

Merriell was quiet a moment, nodding silently. It seemed as though he was taking his time processing the whole situation. There was compassion on his face and behind his eyes, but it was guarded somehow. Evie caught it though and she was grateful when he didn't ask the questions plainly forming in his mind.

"Well," he said finally, his tone light as one corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. "Since he ain't ya othah half, I feel more inclined ta leave ya with this…"

Gently, Merriell caressed her upper arm as he leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek. He let his lips linger slightly longer than was common for such an act, that all at once wove a new hopefulness into her heart.

"Dinna was swell," he added as he pulled away, his smile somehow more charming than it had been all night. "Hope I see ya again, Evie."

"Me too," she murmured.

Evie watched as he got in his truck to leave, her hand held to the cheek he'd graced with his kiss. And when he drove away, it took everything inside of her to keep from running after him.

#Beautiful Stranger Series #Merriell Shelton x Original Character #Merriell Shelton #Snafu Shelton #HBO War #The Pacific #The Pacific Fanfiction #Rami Malek Fanfiction

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thr-333 · 3 years ago

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I got this request story idea where quirkless deku doesn't want to be a hero anymore because of bullying that he got from bakugou and wrong saying that he got from all might. So deku decides is a backpacker, travelling around the world experiencing cultures, food, quirks!!! He has even a YouTube account where talk about his travels, meet new people and talk about their quirks.

Here you go @sweetizukufan its set in nz like you wanted :D

Ochako flopped onto her bed and groaned into a pillow. She didn’t have the right to complain, she knew that. She had been one of thousands of applicants to pass the entrance exam and for the past three years her classmates had been training just as hard as she had. And truthfully she didn’t want to complain. It was her final year at UA. It was only a matter of months until she was officially a hero her dream since a child and she was excited for it!

That didn't change the fact Aizawa had upped their training the last few months. The days got longer the work harder and quite frankly it left her with virtually zero free time. Whenever she tried voicing her thoughts she’d be met by her well meaning, but overly enthusiastic classmates encouraging her to keep her head up.

She was! That didn’t mean she had to go through hellish training with a wide smile on her face.

“Ugh,” Ochako rolled over as it got hard to breath with the pillow smothering her. She really did need to get some sleep before waking up at five in the bloody morning tomorrow when she hit the gym. But honestly at this point if she didn’t do something to break up the monotony of training, eating and sleeping she was going to lose it.

She blindly grabbed for her phone. The school had funded getting her a newer model than her old flip phone since that had been a hindrance when she started internships. She was provided with the industry standard which her friends had tested by throwing it out a window, where it hit Bakugou’s head, and was promptly exploded then stomped on. The thing came out of it without a scratch.

She brought up youtube, it’s not like she had any games, let alone time to play them. It was probably a bad sign she had forgotten what channels she liked. With little other option she started scrolling trending with only a small amount of hesitance. She flicked past everything that was clearly clickbait, too childish or both.

Something caught her eye and Ochako back-pedalled to take a look. It looked like some sort of vlogging channel ‘ARRIVING IN NEW ZEALAND! Auckland sky tower!!!’ was written across the screen. Even with all the caps she didn’t really see how that could be clickbait. Maybe the guy was just excited, she would like to get a holiday like that after all. The image had him smiling at the camera sitting down and below him was nothing, nothing but a street far below. Ochako was embarrassed to say her first thought was that he had some sort of floating quirk before realising he was literally sitting on a window. In her defence she had a float quirk.

Partly embarrassed she clicked on the video why not live her traveling dreams vicariously through a stranger? She used to watch her fair share of travel videos, although those were mostly in tropical places so she could research where to take her parents.

The video started with a shot looking over the wing of a plane, a montage of it starting to land. Ochako was vaguely concerned when all she could see was water out the window but just before touch down the tarmac came into view so it wasn't a surprise crash landing. The camera cut off after a few more seconds panning across the airport as the plane pulled in. The music started to fade out as the shot cut to the same guy as before.

“Hey guys Midoriya here again, just got off an eleven hour flight,” He had no right to look so cheerful at that Ochako had never been on a plane but it didn’t look particularly fun, “And let me tell you I was not prepared for the ordeal that is security here,”

Midoriya’s smile faltered a bit, looking sheepish. He was walking with the camera just outside the airport, people milling around in the background paying him no mind.

“I had no idea it would be that tough, I had an apple I got on the plane in my bag and I thought that would be alright, I got it on the plane after all!” Midoriya didn’t look upset or angry but he was blushing madly. Ochako cracked a smile at that now that she looked closer he was probably about her age, “But no, I swear I thought they were going to arrest me! They started interrogating me, I had to stutter out that I got it on the plane, but that didn’t stop them they gave me a lecture about protecting the environment and declaring food, luckily I got off without a fine, I think it’s because I looked terrified, because I was,”

Midoriya chuckled rubbing his neck, there was a bang and he looked wideyed to the side the camera shook slightly then cut to another shot the setting slightly off from where it was showing a bit of greenery growing at the air port.

“Sorry dropped my bag,” Ochako giggled at that a bit, more that he had decided to keep that in the video than anything else, “So I thought that was the end of it, but apparently not, they started asking questions about my shoes, ‘have you visited any farms?’ ‘have you worn them hiking at any point?’ stuff like that, so that was a bit of a problem because these are my only pair of shoes in this country and I’m pretty sure they’re gonna incinerate that apple,”

A little graphic of a cartoon apple on fire popped up along with a pair of shoes. A speech bubble followed saying ‘save yourself!’ as the apple’s little chibi face screwed up.

“I promised them that no, I haven’t by the way I wouldn’t lie about this stuff the environment here is super cool and unique I couldn’t live with myself if my dirty shoes killed a forest,” The graphic was gone by now and Midoriya was walking through the airport, “But I handed over all the snacks I had in my bag, even if they were ok to bring in the country I was too anxious to risk it, that seemed to appease the border security and I got away with my shoes in tact, my snacks sacrifice will not be in vain,”

Ochako was tempted to laugh but if someone set fire to her snacks or sweets there would be hell to pay.

“Anyway now I’m hungry and have some time before my hotels check in,” Midoriya beamed at the camera, “So I’m gonna do something I’ve wanted to since planning this trip,”

On that mysterious note the video cut to another montage as Midoriya got into a taxi. Ochako let herself enjoy the sights that rolled out the window. She wished she had a computer to watch this on instead of squinting for details on her phone's screen. The montage went onto show the outside of a store then going inside to pan over all the baked goods inside. It was a smorgasbord that stoked Ochako’s envy.

“Here we are,” Midoriya sat at a table just outside the store a few bags laid out in front of him, “These sorts of bakeries are everywhere in New Zealand, I didn’t look for anywhere specific just one walking distance to my hotel room, and here we are!”

Midoriya took something from a bag showing it to the camera to make out the golden crust of a pie. Going torturously in detail as he ripped it open for the audience's benefit. Steam rose and mince flowed out, surprising Ochako as she thought it would be sweet. Breaking it open made a mess as Midoriya was forced to drop the piping hot pastry. The filling pooled across the bag it had come in making the whole thing look sloppy.

“I think my friend would kill me if she saw me do that, Gemma don’t watch this video,” Midoriya warned to late, “She’s the one who told me I had to try a pie, I have a few flavours here but lets start with the basic one, mince!”

Midoriya had some difficulty eating it now that it had fallen apart but managed and his eyes lit up.

“It’s really good, the pastry is flaky and buttery it works really well with the savoury mince the two together make a really satisfying bite, but I guess it would be better if I didn’t destroy it first,” Midoriya said sheepishly, “I won’t do that for the rest of them, promise,”

Midroiya took another bite from the pie before showing off the next one.

“This is Gemma’s favourite Butter Chicken, and trust me it smells so good!” Midoriya, the tease took a bite. Ochako had to wonder what she did to deserve this, “Wow I like this one way better, not that the other one was bad!” Midoriya hurriedly said.

He showed the inside to the camera, a rich looking butter chicken inside.

“It’s really flavourful so you don’t need any sauce that and the texture of the chicken and curry are really complimented by the pie crust,” Izuku took another bite as he talked, “I guess it’s kinda like if Butter Chicken was wrapped up in Nan so there's no way it wouldn’t be good,”

Midoriya talked more as he ate that pie and a steak and cheese one he had brought talking about both until Ochako’s mouth was salivating.

“That’s not nearly all the pie options, but I’ll be touring across New Zealand so this can be an ongoing adventure, now desert!” Midoriya brought out a long bun full of cream, it had a dollop of jam on the top and so much icing sugar Ochako feared for his health. Midoriya however ignored those fears and took a bite anyway, “The buns really soft and the area that the cream’s touched it is just the best texture ever,”

He smiled and there was cream and powder on his cheeks Ochako just knew was going to haunt her until he wiped it off.

“This entire thing is just, ‘ok how can we make this as soft as possible,” Midoriya commented getting closer to the middle of the bun where the bit of jam was, “The raspberry, I think? Jam is really good at breaking up the flavour half way through, now I can eat the rest of it,” Midoriya grinned as he finished it off. He started walking around again waiting for his check in to arrive. That didn't seem to bother him as he pointed out things on the street as he walked.

As he did, Ochako saw someone blatantly jump over the street instead of waiting for the lights. There was another person in the background who casually strolled across the side of a building, feet sticking to it somehow. While people would use their quirks on the street all the time they were usually less obvious about it as police would sometimes call them out and it did depend quirk to quirk. Midoriya zoomed in on a few of these people before it focused on him smiling as he walked.

“New Zealands got pretty cool laws around quirk usage,” He explained, clearly having done his research, enthusiastically by the looks of it, “You have to go through some basic training to prove you can control your quirk, at least so you wont hurt anyone after that you get a license and your free to use your quirk, like I island,” That Ochako thought was cool part of her training had pointed out that some situations heroes were called in for weren't always villain attacks but some public quirk usage gone south, “It’s pretty easy to get by the sounds of it but that does all depend on what your quirk may be,”

The shot cut a bit, Ochako assumed he had rambled on about that for a bit and decided to cut that part.

“In terms of heroes from what I’ve researched the police handle most of that, they’re trained in their quirks kinda like hero schools back in Japan but starting at university not highschool,” That made sense Ochako supposed, and they’d probably have more time to master their quirks too, “There’s a few heroes sure, they’re like a branch of the police department and I think there's a departmental separation between rescue and combat heroes,”

Was she privately pleased he had listed rescue heroes first? Yes, yes she was.

“But honestly there aren’t many, they seem more like the people you call in for really big stuff going on, or international relations, it makes sense the population of New Zealand isn’t all that big,” Midoriya rounded the corner someone made a peace sign at the camera before moving on, “Almost half the population is here in Auckland and the whole country hasn’t reached the five million mark yet, thats crazy to me considering Japan’s population is in the hundred million range and it’s only slightly bigger than New Zealand,”

That did seem insane to Ochako, not sure to be smug about that fact or not.

“So that's probably why heroes are less of a thing here but that doesn't mean it’s all not still really cool,” Midoriya was beaming at the camera, his positivity and enthusiasm practically punching her through the screen, “I’ve rambled enough, it’s about check in time I’ll show you guys where I’ll be staying,”

Midoriya gave a quick tour of his hotel room. It wasn't much, more of a backpackers than anything.

“It’s not big I know but I’ll only be staying here for a few days to explore Auckland then I’m off traveling so a large place wasn't really a worry,” Midoriya flopped down on the bed, bouncing slightly as he hit the mattress, “I’m gonna take a nap because I am exhausted,” His tone betrayed nothing, “But stick around because I’ve got a surprise this afternoon- well I probably put it in the title anyway so it’s not a surprise but it’s still going to be cool, See ya,” Midoriya saluted the camera and it faded to black for a few seconds.

When it came back to light it was an image looking up at a tall tower circling around it and entering the building next to it. There was a continuous shot that was sped up as he walked through the line entering an elevator which literally had a glass floor.

“Wo-” The camera was pointed down at Midoriya's shoes as he hesitated to stand on the glass patch. His foot made contact before he quickly stepped back, “Nope, no, nope,”

Ochako laughed and sank back into her bed. The elevators opened and there was a shot of large windows showing the expanse of the city. The footage sped up as Midoriya did a clean circle around the tower showing it was a loop to give a 360 degree view of Auckland. It was pretty with rolling hills and she could see forests at the edge of it. Honestly it was small compared to the cities she was used to but that made sense given what Midoriya had said earlier.

“Look at this,” The footage went back to normal speed as Midoriya focused on a chart comparing the heights of different towers, “It’s half as tall as the sky tree,”

And that was given the giant antenna on the top.

“Come check this out it’s pretty cool,” Midoriya walked down the steps until he was right next to the window, a few steps more and he came to a patch in the floor that was just glass like the elevator. Midoriya noticeably stood back from it, “It says here that the glass is just as thick and strong on the floor, so reasonably logically,” Ochako snorted, “It should be just the same as walking on the floor… they say that but…”

Midoriya switched the camera around to focus on him, looking a bit pale.

“This might shock you but I’m not really a fan of heights,” He shuddered and shook himself out, “Alright I can do this,”

What followed was a frankly painful process that Ochako couldn't help but laugh at. Midoriya would approach the glass before backing off. He set the camera up on the railing so it looked down enough that she could see the glass and street below. Midoriya tried a bunch of stuff like walking up without looking down. That didn't work and he backed out several meters before he had even reached the glass thinking he was standing on it. He tried to sit down and scoot onto it but couldn't manage more than sitting far from the edge and putting his feet on it. Ochako started howling with laughter when a kid came by running up and jumping on the glass while Midoriya looked on with fear like they were mad.

Midoriya at least had a humor about it. 2D sketches drawn over the video to help exaggerate his struggle and the entire thing filmed rather comically.

Ochako was beginning to believe he had photoshopped the image earlier before he grabbed the camera taking a deep shuddering breath.

“I can do this, I promise I can do this,” He sat down and shuffled back cringing all the way. Ochako found herself strangely proud as Midoriya actually made it onto the glass. He was white knuckled reaching up to hold the railing. He smiled shakily at the camera before turning into a more genuine look of triumph. That was until he quickly rolled off it jumping to his feet and scurrying away, “There! Done! I did it!”

He was smiling brightly now and Ochako couldn't deny she was proud of him. She had struggled herself with heights something she was forced to get over to use her quirk so she knew just how hard that can be.

“Gosh I hope that's easier than what I’m about to do,” Midoriya spun around to show a different window wires running outside and inside a countdown that was about to hit one. It did and there was a blur outside Ochako belatedly realised it was a person. Oh no.

“Now I’m not going to do that but I am going to do something pretty cool,” Ochako blew a sigh of relief but also wanted to hit him for scaring her like that. Under no circumstances should he be jumping off buildings.

They lapsed into another montage Midoriya going back downstairs. This time he had the courage to put a foot on the window in the elevator. Downstairs he went into another area donning a coat and sort of jumpsuit before layering harnesses over the top. He went up an elevator with a few other people this time. They stepped out into another room Midoriya carefully keeping the window out of frame to keep the grand reveal. Their harnesses got latched on and secured to a railing. Once everything was safe the doors pushed open revealing Auckland city, this time not hidden behind glass.

Midoriya skipped over the likely long process of gaining the courage to go outside cutting instead to him smiling with the city at his back and wind whipping through his hair.

“Welcome to the top!” Midoriya yelled over the wind, the audio quality was bad but that was understandable. She felt worse for Midoriya who was smiling through the fear, “It’s really cold and windy up here and I’m scared!”

“Just go back down you idiot,” Ochako huffed fondly as he kept shouting to be heard over the wind.

“I’m kinda afraid of dropping my camera honestly,” Midoriya laughed but she couldn't hear it, instead he pointed in to a few specific spots across the city, “See those hills? Most of those are actually remnants of volcanoes, you see Aucklands kinda built on top of a giant pit of Magma,”

Midoriya quickly grabbed back onto the railing, slowly shuffling along the sky walk, higher than he had been inside.

“Luckily the volcanoes in this area are dormant, cause if one in this area erupts there's a pretty good chance like 50 more are gonna follow,”

Midoriya stayed up there for a little longer pointing out interesting things in the distance. Ochako could safely say she was glad when he cut back to the bottom of the sky tower. His hair was windswept and cheeks red from windchill. Ochako didn't even need to check the comments to know most of them were gushing about how cute he was.

“That was… terrifying, but I’m glad I did it, who thinks I should try skydiving next?” Midoriya grinned, before his face dropped and paled again, “God please no that was a joke,”

Ochako giggled relaxing back in bed again after the tension of the skywalk Midoriya had been leaking through the screen dissipated.

“Anyway I’m just gonna go lie down for a while until some friends of mine get here, then we’ve got one more surprise,” Ochako hoped he hadn’t changed his mind and was going to jump off the building after all, she didn’t want to see him have a literal heart attack.

The video cut to Midoriya smiling at the camera again. He had a lot more color to him now and his hair was somewhat tamed. In his defence he had apparently got off and 11 hour flight then walked around 300 meters in the air it was allowed to be messy.

“So the person meeting me is Gemma, I mentioned her earlier, and a few other friends but their camera shy so you probably wont see them,” Midoriya was bouncing in place gaze constantly drifting away from the camera, “This is our first time meeting in person so I’m kinda excited kinda dreading if this has all just been some elaborate joke and I’m about to get stood up or worse,”

“Who hurt you and who do I need to kill?” Uraraka whispered, fully prepared to throw down the gauntlet for a youtuber she had only just discovered.

Luckily for them Gemma and his other not seen friends were spared her wrath. The camera shot was from far away so she couldn't hear or see anything in detail but it clearly showed the two running up to hug each other Midoriya pulling back to excitedly chat. Gemma matched his enthusiasm, sparkles trailing her arms as she made wide sweeping gestures.

“Here everyone say hi to Gemma,” The shot changed to frame the two of them, Gemma waving the motion sending more glittering sparkles falling from her hand and landing on Midoriya’s shoulder.

“Oh no-” Gemma stepped back to look at Midoriya the front of his shirt was covered in lingering sparkles along with his face and hair. Midoriya looked down at himself a little shocked as Gemma covered her face groaning into her hands, “I’m so sorry, I swear they fade out,”

She scrubbed her hands down her face, unaffected as her whole body shone lightly with subtle sparkles.

“I love it,” Midoriya grinned, twirling a bit to show there was a band of sparkles across his back from where her arms must have come around him. He was quite a bit shorter than her so his face also looked like someone had blown glitter in it, it just made his smile all the more dazzling.

“So you know where we’re going for dinner?” Gemma was looking at the camera but clearly asking Izuku.

“Up the tower again!” Midoriya beamed and really him plus sparkles was too unfair a combination.

This time in the elevator Gemma stood proudly on the window as Midoriya yelled at her.

“Are you crazy?!”

“Crazy you say?” At that Gemma jumped up and Midoriya let out an unholy screech as the elevator shuddered, she laughed but it was teasing not cruel. Ochako could make out the vague reflection of someone patting Midoriya on the shoulder and another person's arm came into frame to swat at Gemma.

When they reached the top Midoriya did not focus too much on the view, already having shown it. They stepped into a nicely decorated restaurant, but what was interesting was when Midoriya demonstrated that it was slowly spinning so the patrons could enjoy the view without leaving their table.

“Do you think they could speed it up?” Gemma asked, she was sitting next to Midoriya, both had their backs to the window so Ochako had a clear shot of it.

“Like a dangerous merry go round?” Midoriya questioned, the sparkles still clung to his cheeks and eyelashes.

“Exactly!” Gemma gave him finger guns, that matched her real guns. She may be sparkly but without the coat Ochako could now see she was ripped, “Also the dangerous is redundant,”

“What kind of merry go rounds-” Midoriya cut himself off as a waiter walked by, “... anyway I don’t think thats a good idea, given that the points to you know, eat,”

“Thats just what makes it more fun,” Gemma waved off.

“Uh-huh,” Midoriya raised an eyebrow skeptically before turning to the camera, “Hope you guys don’t mind but I wont be doing much food reviewing this dinner, I’ll show it off but-”

“This is a night for us to celebrate, later losers,” Gemma saluted, Midoriya squeaked telling her off before cutting the video off. Ochako laughed glad for Midoriya that his nerves had been wrong.

As promised he showed a few shots of some fancy looking food. Ochako wondered how much she would have to save up for her and her parents to eat there, not as much as the flights of course… hopefully.

The camera placed on the table showed the scenery slowly revolving outside, getting darker and lights turning on as the sun set. By the time they were getting up to leave it was fully dark outside and Midoriya spared a moment to linger on a shot of Auckland at night.

“Izuku don’t forget your bag,” Gemma called as she shrugged on her jacket, also glittery.

“Thank-” The camera whirled around to where the bag should be. There was a slight ridge dividing the circle of the restaurant that spun and a ledges lining the outside where all the supporting beams were, “Oh sh-”

The camera started shaking as Midoriya ran through the restaurant. The shot switching to another camera that caught Midoriya as he ran the other way almost bowling over a waiter and profusely apologising. All the while you could hear Gemma and several others laughing off screen.

“Oh? Look what we have here,” Gemma moved the camera to focus on a spot as the restaurant turned around, a bag coming into view that Gemma scooped up. It was probably Midoriya's seeing as it had a couple of All Might pins and Ochako wasn’t sure how popular he was internationally.

Gemma set up the camera to focus on the opposite direction Midoriya ran. It caught the moment he came around the other side, still staring worriedly at the window. Gemma whistled sharply gaining a few glares but a relieved look from Midoriya as she held up his bag.

They left the restaurant with a few apologies at the other patrons for being loud. When the camera switched it was back on Midoriya but Ochako caught a glimpse of Gemma shimmering in the background waiting around.

“Alright that's all for today,” Midoriya smiled, Ochako stomped down the slight disappointment resolving check out his other videos from his easiness and confidence on screen Midoriya must have been at this awhile, “I’m going to be touring all over the country so stay tuned for the series, I haven't showed you nearly how beautiful New Zealand is, I hope I can make it down to the south island too cause they have some really pretty scenery, for now I’m going back to the hotel and crashing hard, see ya!”

The video signed off to the end cards a recommended video and link to Gemma’s apparent channel that looked like some sort of fitness channel with how she was lifting weights in it. Ochako promised herself to check it out.

For now she subscribed to Midoriya’s channel checking the time to see if she could squeeze in another before going to bed. She was feeling like she could get away with it. The change in pace revitalising in a way. But really she attributed that to Midoriya’s natural cheer and charisma. Somewhere in there she had allowed herself to relax and get swept up in this dorky kids mundane adventure. It was exactly the kind of thing she wanted her parents to experience one day.

This was exactly what she had become a hero for, and now graduation was within her grasp. She just had to push a little more and then she would be out in the world able to do some good for her family and everyone else.

Ochako smiled at the screen, resolving to get some sleep and maybe she could squeeze in another video tomorrow morning. Before she turned off her phone Ochako glanced at the channel's name, snorting to herself. It was perfect.

Green Bean and Bags

#my hero academia #my hero academia au #mha #bnha #asks #ask request #asks welcome

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kannra21 · 4 years ago

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Sniperhaul fanfic

ˡᵐᵃᵒ ᶦ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᶦᵉᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶦ'ᵐ ᵈᵒᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᶦˢ

Overhoe finally broke out of Tartarus after a very long time. However, he couldn't have done it without the help of a certain villain mistress. 😏 Who's she and why did she choose to help this terrible (x2) man? Find out bellow.

characters: overhaul (chisaki kai) x sniper lady

word count: 3k

warnings: angst, past memories, handless overhaul, hurt, comfort, gangs, yakuza, just girl taking care of her mans

notes: I'd like to thank the person responsible for proofreading this work bc I'm supposed to keep their identity a secret. 😎 Thank you once again! And of course, the manga and characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi. @meefal you were excited to see the final product so here you go, hope you like it. 🖤

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Overhaul couldn't remember how long he'd been there, he'd lost count weeks ago. The only thing he knew was that he was in "Tartarus", a prison located 5km off the coast of the Mainland. It may function like a conventional prison, but in reality, those who're deemed a severe threat toward the safety of the nation were locked up and monitored closely, regardless of whether their sentence has been decided on yet. The facility was divided into 6 levels, where the potential threat level of criminals was deemed "higher" the further underground you go. It's a prison where, once you enter, there's no chance of leaving.

He sat there in his cell, B10 being the lowest level in solitary confinement. It was too cold for his head to function and too dark for his eyes to see, with the small window above the prison doors being his only source of light. There was also an opening where prisoners received their meals, but considering that he lost his hands, the guards could easily enter without worrying too much for their well-being. They'd leave whatever they offered that day and give him a disgusted look before locking the doors after themselves. He couldn't see his reflection nor touch his face, he probably looked like crap by now. His skin was itching and he felt disoriented from all the germs occupying this space, it's been a while since he's gone out for some fresh air.

He was practically Quirkless and yet they locked him out in the worst, most dreadful place the isolation block had to offer. He couldn't even feed himself properly, he couldn't do anything by himself whatsoever. But there was only one thing left to him; he spent days and days thinking about pops, Chrono, yakuza and everything he could have if it weren't for those stupid heroes-- no, if it weren't for his plan that so grandiosely failed. It made him feel miserable, desperate even, and with grief soon followed acceptance. It was all his fault, and he needed to live with this burden for the rest of his life. Because of him, pops is still handicapped to the bed somewhere, wherever the heroes might have taken him.

He stood up and started beating the cell with his leg, curing his frustrations. He didn't know why he was doing it, it was irrational and he's hurting himself unnecessarily, but for some reason it made him feel lighter. At least he could transfer some of his inner pain to the outside world. Other criminals laughed at his patheticness, especially since they knew why the guards were allowed to enter his cell. They shouted that it was impossible to escape, but he wasn't trying to. He knew that it was useless a long time ago.

Midnight came and all the prisoners mostly fell asleep. Overhaul, however, couldn't sleep a wink. Because of the dark room he spent most of his days in, he lost his sense of time so he was pacing around, deep in thought. He couldn't dream of anything nice anyways.

"Can't fall asleep either?" a feminine voice could be heard from the other side. Wait. They allowed women here? What could she have possibly done to deserve such punishment?

He leaned his back on the doors and slid down to the floor, trying to find the right words.

"Yes." he sighed, enthusiasm lacking in his voice "But it's not like I need you to talk about my problems."

"Hm, whatever. Go beat your head against the bars. Fall unconscious, loser."

The man snorted, which might as well be his first time he ever did that.

"Well, this certainly sounds effective. It's not like I have anything to lose anyways."

"Hey." the tone of her voice was earnest, and it aroused further questions in his jumbled up head.

"What?"

"We're going to get out of here."

Is she being serious now? "Really? Because as far as I know, we're locked out here for good. We don't even know the severity of our sentences. They can do whatever they want with us."

"Not quite. You know that they're being supervised by 'The Hearts and Mind' party offshoots. They can’t do a thing to us as long as they have their heads to the pikes."

This might be true, but he didn't believe in anything the government's been telling them lately. It's only a matter of time before they switch their plans and play by their own rules, because stabbing people in the back was the only thing they've ever been good at.

"How did you end up here?"

Oh the long-awaited question. She wondered when he'd ask.

"It's not like I need you to talk about my problems."

He smiled, he liked this vicious side of hers. But he also realized that she could be nice as well because if that wasn't the case, she wouldn't spread promises of the escape. At least that's what he thought.

"Sorry about that."

"It's okay. We've all been here for a very long time, now weren't we? We lose our cool and act like total assholes."

"Direct and straight to the point I see." his deadpan voice could be heard from the other side of the bars.

"'Been raised this way, for the better or worse." it didn't sound like she was bragging, yet it felt like she was just talking about herself, honest and confident, to cover up what she felt was wrong. The incoming topic which she'd rather avoid.

The villainess didn't want to open up about her past, so she just answered his question.

"I killed people beyond counting, following AFO's orders. He always wished to become the world's greatest demon lord and thus promised us enormous change in the hero society. So in order to achieve that, he needed his underlings. And that's how I ended up here."

"You were loyal till the end."

"You know what they say; there can be no progress nor achievement without certain sacrifice."

Wise beyond her years and just as sad. He wondered how her face looked like, how the world's been treating her.

"I had my own sacrifices as well."

"Do you regret them?"

...

"I do."

Now it was her turn to snort "Really? And I thought that people situated this low couldn't have regrets. You remember what they said about us. 'Beasts in human clothing', 'Simply dreadful beings'."

He felt insulted, maybe the things she said were true but it's not like he was anything similar to these pigs he shared the same air with, unfortunately.

"I regret hurting the person important to me. The old man who once took me in when I was very young. He was the infamous boss of Shie Hassaikai."

Something clicked in her, it's such a small world they're living in, "Yakuza? I know you guys. We used to trade with you back in the days."

"Todou Gang?"

"You said it."

"But... you were a force to be reckoned with. One day you just collapsed and not a single trace could be found. According to certain sources, there was no way anyone could determine the exact cause of your downfall. So what happened?"

"I killed them all."

...

"AFO told me to kill them to prove my loyalty to him and, of course, to make sure that there was no one I could turn to other than himself."

For some questionable reasons, and he didn't dare to admit that it was empathy he felt towards a random stranger and a former gang member he shared some history with, Overhaul wanted to fill the silence that lingered between them. Perhaps, because he felt guilty for making her reveal more than what she initially intended.

"I used pops' niece, a 6-year-old girl who had an extraordinary Quirk; it allowed her to rewind a person's body back to a certain state. That means she could put a body back to before it was injured or before the person even developed a Quirk. With that, I wanted to create a Quirk-erasing drug to get rid of the Quirk society altogether and to make sure that yakuza could rise once again. I cut her skin every day to take blood samples and to test her regenerative abilities. However, pops didn't approve of it, so I handicapped him to the bed and planned on waking him up the moment I realized my plan, to make him proud of the achievement. Unfortunately, it didn't play out as I wanted and I never reached him."

The silence followed and the woman wore a disheartening smile on her face. It's not the answer she expected, she didn't ask for another sad story from another messed up person she's met in her life. But the intentions were pure and for her, it was good enough.

"We both fought for something only to lose it all, huh?" she laughed, but it was prominent in her tone that it was bittersweet.

"At least you're brought here in one piece."

"At least you can still revive your parent."

Were they comforting each other? Were they jealous of each other? Were they wallowing in self-pity? They couldn't tell. The only thing they certainly could was the embarrassment they felt from the moment they realized that some of the prisoners were eavesdropping and making fun of their vulnerabilities. See? That's what they hated the most about opening up about themselves; they were worried about their feelings being perceived as a joke. The only way to protect themselves was to rise up the walls and never let anyone get closer, except they didn't regret exchanging a word or two, as long as it was the two of them.

The next day, 8:34PM Mainland-side entrance, the guardians of 'The Bronze Gate' announced a code red security lockdown. Panic and shouting could be heard from across the hall and the security alarm announced the potential danger.

"Close any and all passageways on each floor. All workers are to enforce strict measures to maintain order."

"The surveillance system is down! It seems like we've been hit by some sort of EMP attack!"

Static waves were spreading around the metal frames and the prison doors of the isolation block unlocked. Overhaul could hear the commotion outside and the villains leaving their cells in a hurry, but as much as he tried, he couldn't push the heavy doors open.

"3 seconds until we're back online- wait... What the... With the system down we can't monitor the inside!"

"Nice, 3 seconds be damned." he beat the door with his legs, pushed the surface with his shoulders, leaned all of his weight on the godforsaken thing just so it could finally open. Nothing. It seems like he lost a couple of pounds during his stay here. He couldn't believe his eyes, this couldn't be happening to him. After all this time of patient waiting and hoping to meet pops once again, it turns out he'd be the only one still trapped and all because he didn't have any hands. He panicked, he really couldn't decide on what to do next. But then he remembered-

"Go beat your head against the bars, loser."

That's it! This might be his only chance to escape! He didn't have much time left though, he could hear the shooting nearby so he definitely needed to hurry.

"The system won't come back on!! The ones in solitary confinement are breaking out!! Inside!"

"Control unit's on site!! Execute lockdown in the isolation block!"

"Follow procedure! If even one of them steps a foot outside their cell-"

"Fire!! Open fire!!"

Muscular threw whatever he could find in this messed up place back at them, excitement prominent in his big smile "You ain't gonna kill me with those puny toys! So how about you show me the exit already?!"

Other villains were joining him, still overwhelmed by the sudden freedom they've been given "Dammit... After all that time..."

"Meat..." Moonfish mumbled as he cut his opponents with his blade-like teeth.

The villain lady joined them in the run, still carefully examining her surroundings in case they were tricked into something, "The system isn't responding to my Quirk. 'Guess Tartarus really is falling."

As she was running down the corridor, she could hear beating noises coming from one of the doors. It sounded dull so the person must have been using their head.

"Eh, don't tell me the idiot actually listened to my advice. He must be desperate."

She came to the doors and turned the circular lock in a hurry. She really didn't want to stay in this place any longer, but she couldn't leave him behind either. It's not like she could use him for anything since he was basically handless and Quirkless so why was she doing it? She didn't have an answer. Maybe it was their talk from the other day, maybe because they were both gang members with a history, maybe because of her regrets and her wish to do something right for once. Or maybe because she was just this kind. Nah, this couldn't be it, she never did anything in her life that didn't require a certain purpose. She cast her heart aside a long time ago and did what was necessary for the accomplishment of the mission. It would be weird if she suddenly started using her heart again, now wouldn't it? She was AFO's personal assassin, there was simply no way.

He came out of the room with eyes wide in puzzlement. He was finally free and ready to find pops so he could possibly revive him and try to fix things as much as he could.

They looked at each other for the first time. They never said it aloud, godforbid, but they liked the other's eyes. And perhaps the eyes were a window to a person's soul, their broken souls, tormented by the life's temptations. They were still so young, probably in their twenties, and yet they looked older at the same time. Maybe because of the seriousness in their faces, their stronger stance, the way they defied their fate. They were destined to fall apart, no one would argue with it, but circumstances drove them to take action and rise from the bottomless chasm. And now they had each other.

"We need to get out of here," she stated and pulled him by the sleeve that hung loosely from his shoulder. They escaped Tartarus and raided a small shop near the coast to change clothes and to mingle into the public unnoticed. She quickly picked out a dress and threw herself at work while Overhaul was still standing by the shop display, looking out for the potential intruders.

He couldn't erase the thought of this being some sort of a really weird first date; the girl coming out of the stall and the guy examining her looks. He shook his head, he never had this kind of thoughts in his entire life. He needed to pull himself together.

The bob-hair came out and adjusted the ammo on her utility belt. He looked at her from the corner and she was stunning; intimidating with a tad bit of femininity in design. He stood there and watched how good it fit her curvy form. The thoughts wandering in his head sounded so wrong, terribly wrong. He needed to bring himself to stop.

"Oh right, I almost forgot." she took a shirt off the shelf and came to him, showing him the garment in her hands "You need a little help, right?"

"Sure.'' his voice was small and he stood still while she undid his buttons. Maybe from the outside he looked completely calm, but from the inside he was a complete mess. He looked at her face and wondered if she knew, the kind of effect she's having on him. She raised her head and he looked to the side, there's no way he could look her in the eyes at this point. He hoped she didn't notice.

"You like this one, don't you?" she asked, filling the awkward silence.

"Looks don't matter, the most important thing is to change and avoid getting caught." She looked annoyed. Great. He wanted to shove his head though the wall. Wait… Why was he thinking that?

"I choose the clothes I like. It makes me feel better in my skin."

"You look good in it."

She looked at him surprised and he quickly corrected himself "the dress looks good."

"Sure." she trailed off and put the new shirt over his shoulders. She could feel his muscles tensing. This was probably because of the cool air, she assured herself.

"Why did you break me out of Tartarus? It's not like I could be of any use to you."

She buttoned up his shirt and fixed the wrinkled parts on the garment, hand accidentally brushing over the left side of his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

Well... that was a surprise.

"I thought that maybe you could be of some use to the demon lord. Not Quirk-wise, but you may offer a valuable set of information. Something that the demon lord would appreciate greatly." she could feel it slowing down and her heart dropped just as much.

"But also because I... liked you."

He looked at her incredulously and she smiled. She pinched him to bring him out of the trance and he complained. "Don't be awkward, say something."

"I like you too... I, this is my first time I ever said this to anyone. It's weird."

She slapped him gently on the shoulder and he reached to take it but, yea, no hands.

"What the hell?"

"You're the one who's weird. But I guess that I like you this way." she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek "Ew, you should definitely shave though. No doubt about it."

The former yakuza boss swore; he'll never understand women. But for some reason he couldn't deny that he was particularly drawn to this one. He wondered if pops would approve of her.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #overhaul #chisaki kai #sniperhaul #shie hassaikai #ch 311 #bnha spoilers #bnha fic #crack ship #parody

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